"Sergeant, Boer War, sir. I fought at the siege of Ladysmith and a dozen other engagements." "I thought the Boer War was a million years ago," said Marion Black. "Very nearly, miss," said Johnson with a dry chuckle. "Welcome to the ranks, Sergeant Johnson," said Alec Talbot. I started to say something, but suddenly was very weary, so instead I went to sleep. CHAPTER III Ten days later they took off the bandages. The doctor had changed them and examined my eyes a number of times, but always in what was to me total darkness; I believe he used some sort of queer light, infra-red or black or what-have-you. I'm not up on these medical and scientific gadgets. The last layer of gauze came off. Nothing happened. The world to me was all a pinkish-red blurring. "I can't see," I said. "John! I can't see!" "Neither can I when my eyes are closed," said Marion, with a nervous choked laugh. So I opened my eyes. I saw a tall straight old man, a one-armed chap, a young fellow in dark glasses, a rather stuffy-looking retired colonel, a middle-aged physician with a worried face, and a girl as radiant as a spring morning. "Greetings," I said unsteadily. "Greetings, little army. Don't look so scared." Alec Talbot grinned and Marion gulped with relief, Colonel Bedford clapped me hard on the shoulder, muttering something that was probably "Stout fella!" Geoff Exeter said, "You can see, Will? Your eyes are all right?" "I think so. Yes, there isn't anything but a little fuzziness around the edges." "That may be the result of the long spell of darkness," said John Baringer, fussing about professionally. "Well, let's get out and test the old orbs," said I, throwing off the covers. John pushed me back into the pillow. "Not for a day or two. You've got to regain your strength. Been in bed a long time." I raged, but it did no good. It was three mornings later when at last I was allowed to leave the old castle--it belonged to Geoff Exeter's family, by the way, Geoff's father being old Lord Joseph Exeter--and go into town, with Colonel Bedford at the wheel of my Jaguar. We averaged a wild and impetuous thirty-two miles per hour all the way there. The Colonel was a driver of the old, the very old, school, and obviously wished that the sleek little sports car were a two-wheeled tonga. As for me, I fidgeted and mumbled and longed to get behind the wheel myself; I had once clocked the two-seater at a hundred and fourteen m.p.h., and when she was forced to creep along like this, both she and I were unhappy. However, my job was to observe, and so I contained my impatience perforce. * * * * * We circled the village and came in from the opposite end. No one knew we were staying at the long-deserted Exeter Castle, and we meant to keep it that way. It was a priceless hideaway, an excellent G.H.Q. for our planned insurgence.