The trooper holding Hallam's horse: sat his own saddle, wrapped to the eyes in his heavy overcoat, long lance with its drooping pennon slanting stiffly athwart the wintry wilderness of stars. "Soldier!" she called gently from the porch. "Stable, blanket, and feed; then come back to the kitchen, and there will be a good hot dinner waiting." The cavalryman slowly turned his head at the sound of her voice. And, as he made no movement to obey: "There is the stable over there," she said, pointing across the frozen field. "Follow that gate path. There's a lantern in the barn." An orderly, passing, added: "Come on, lancer. I'm going to the barn myself;" and very slowly the trooper turned both tired horses and walked them away into the darkness. When she returned to the table there was considerable laughter over a story chat Hallam had been telling. He jumped up, seated Ailsa, hovered over her for a second with just a suspicion of proprietary air which made her blush uncomfortably. Talking had become general, but everybody noted it, and Letty's eyes grew wide and velvety, and the blood was making her cheeks and lips very pink. Dr. West said: "The new regiment on Pine Knob was recruited from the Bowery. I happened to be with Kemp, their surgeon, when sick call sounded, and I never saw such a line of impudent, ruffianly malingerers as filed before Kemp. One, I am convinced, had deliberately shot off his trigger finger; but it couldn't be proven, and he'll get his discharge. Another, a big, hulking brute, all jaw and no forehead, came up and looked insolently at Kemp. "Kemp said: 'Well, what's the matter with you?' "'Aw,' said the soldier, with a leer, 'I've got de lapsy-palls, and I wanter go to de horspittle, I do.' "I never saw such a mad man as Kemp was. "'So you've got the lapsy-palls, have you?' "'Bet yer boots, I have.' "'_And_ you want to go to the hospital?' "Aw--w'ats der matter wit youse, Doc.?' "And Kemp gave him a bang on the eye with his fist, and another on the nose, and then began to hit him so quickly that the fellow reeled, about, yelling for mercy. "'Sure cure for the lapsy-palls,' said Kemp; and, turning his glare on the rest of the shivering line: 'Anybody else got 'em?' he asked briskly. "At that a dozen big brutes sneaked out of the line and hurriedly decamped; and I don't think that disease is going to be popular in that regiment." A shout of laughter greeted the story. All present had seen too many instances of malingering not to appreciate Surgeon Kemp's cure for a disease which never existed. A plum pudding was brought on and set afire. Ailsa poured the burning sauce over and over it. Dr. Hammond got up and threw some more pine logs on the fire. Huge shadows rose up and danced in the ruddy light, as the candles burned lower. Then Dr. West began another story, but was checked by the appearance of a hospital steward: "Davis, Ward A, No. 3, is very bad, sir." "Going?" "Yes, sir."