"That is right. I am glad you are growing so wise and sensible. It is useless to regret the past. They had their reign. They are conquered, and all is at an end." I crushed the paper in my pocket with almost feverish joy. "And now," he continued, "I hope that a brighter and better day is rising for my land." I looked at him, and saw that his face was lighted up, and that he was in thorough earnest. "But we'll talk about that another time, Gil," he said. I stared at this familiar usage of my name, and he smiled. "Yes, Gil," he said; "my friend Gil, who will be my counsellor, and help me to rule over my people with strength and justice." "But--" "No, no," he said; "don't speak yet. You are going to decide hastily, and a great judge is slow, and thinks much before he speaks. We were talking about your dress. I did think of taking you back with me to my city." "No, no," I cried excitedly, and completely thrown off my guard; "not yet." I felt that I had made a mistake, for I saw his eyes flash, and a curious watchful look in his face. "Very well," he said; "there is no need for haste. You find that you are steadily growing strong up here?" "Yes; fast," I replied. "It is cooler than it would be in a town." "Quite right. Then I will not hurry you away to-day. Perhaps to-morrow. Let us talk about your dress. I want you to help me think out a suitable uniform for my gun regiment. Not like yours. It is too hot and wearisome for the men. The helmet is too heavy, and shines too much. What do you think of a little steel cap, something like mine, with a white puggaree round it, and a little plume in front?" "It would be excellent," I said. He looked pleased. "Then a white tunic, with gold binding across the chest. Light, not heavy, like yours." "That would be quite right," I said. "And then they shall wear boots like your men. They are heavy, but a man rides so much better in boots." "Yes; you are quite correct," I said eagerly. "It gives him firmness in the saddle, and he never notices their weight. The tunic, too, should be fairly loose and light, so that the men have perfect freedom for their arms. Our lads were too tightly trussed up, and stiff. A man wants to be so that every muscle is free to play." "Quite right," he said; and in imagination I saw a troop of men uniformed as he proposed, and thought how admirably suited the dress would be. "Then, for their arms," he continued, "a long light lance, without pennon." "Nonsense!" I cried. "They must not carry lances." "Well, then," he continued, "short guns--carbines." "No, no," I said impetuously, for he had led me on so that I was thoroughly interested. "The carbine would only be in the men's way." "Ah! What, then--pistol?" "No," I said; "artillerymen want no pistols. They have their guns, which can deal with their enemies a mile away." "Then you would not give them any arms but the cannon?" "Yes," I cried, "certainly; swords."