“I don’t think the beggar _will_ throw us over,” replied the subaltern. “I suppose I’d better get them under arms before daybreak; the nights are infernally dark, though, in this beastly country, but my fellows all turn out smartest now when they’ve no light.” “Before daybreak, certainly,” replied “Old Swipes”; “no whist _here_, Kettering, to keep us up very late. Well,” he added, resuming his directions to his subaltern, “we’ll have the detachment under arms by four. Take Sergeant Macintosh and the best of the ‘flankers’ to form an advanced guard. Bid him make every yard of ground good, particularly where there’s _bush_; but on no account to fire unless he’s attacked. We’ll advance in column of sections--_mind that_--they’re handier that way for the ground; and Harry--where’s Harry?” “Here, sir!” said a voice, and a pale, sickly-looking boy, apparently about seventeen years of age, emerged from under the cloaks and blankets in the corner, where he had been lying half asleep, and thoroughly exhausted with the hardships of a life which it requires the constitution of manhood to undergo. Poor Harry! with what sickening eagerness his mother, the clergyman’s widow, grasps at the daily paper, when the African mail is due. How she shudders to see the great black capitals, with “Important News from the Cape!” What a hero his sisters think Harry! and how mamma alone turns pale at the very name of war, and prays for him night and morning on her knees till the pale face and wasted form of her darling stand betwixt her and her Maker. And Harry, too, thinks sometimes of his mother; but oh! how different is the child’s divided affection from the all-engrossing tenderness of the mother’s love! The boy is fond of “soldiering,” and his heart swells as “Old Swipes” gives him his orders in a paternal tone of kindness. “Harry, I shall entrust you with the rear-guard, and you must keep up your communications with the sergeant’s guard I shall leave here. He will probably be relieved by the Rifles, and you can then join us in the front. If they don’t show before twelve o’clock, fall back here; pack up the baggage, right-about-face, and join ‘the levies,’ they’re exactly five miles in our rear; if you’re in difficulties, ask Sergeant File what is best to be done, only don’t club ’em, my boy, as you did at Limerick.” “Well, sir,” said the handsome lieutenant, “we’ve all got our orders now, except Kettering; what are we to do with him?” “Give him some supper first,” replied the jolly commandant; “but how to get him back I don’t know; we’ve had a fine stud of oxen for the last ten days, but as for a horse, I have not seen one since I left Cape Town.” “We’re doing nothing at head-quarters, sir,” exclaimed Charlie, with flashing eyes; “will you allow me to join the attack to-morrow, with your people?”