Fire was low down behind the eyes at present. They were quick to scan and take summary of their object, as the young man felt while observing for himself. Height and build of body were such as might be expected in the brother of Lady Charlotte and from the tales of his prowess. Weyburn had a glance back at Cuper's boys listening to the tales. The soldier-lord's manner was courteously military--that of an established superior indifferent to the deferential attitude he must needs enact. His curt nick of the head, for a response to the visitor's formal salutation, signified the requisite acknowledgment, like a city creditor's busy stroke of the type-stamp receipt upon payment. The ceremony over, he pitched a bugle voice to fit the contracted area: "I hear from Mr. Abner that you have made acquaintance with Olmer. Good hunting country there." "Lady Charlotte kindly gave me a mount, my lord." "I knew your father by name--Colonel Sidney Weyburn. You lost him at Toulouse. We were in the Peninsula; I was at Talavera with him. Bad day for our cavalry." "Our officers were young at their work then." "They taught the Emperor's troops to respect a charge of English horse. It was teaching their fox to set traps for them." Lord Ormont indicated a chair. He stood. "The French had good cavalry leaders," Weyburn said, for cover to a continued study of the face, "Montbrun, yes: Murat, Lassalle, Bessieres. Under the Emperor they had." "You think them not at home in the saddle, my lord?" "Frenchmen have nerves; horses are nerves. They pile excitement too high. When cool, they're among the best. None of them had head for command of all the arms." "One might say the same of Seidlitz and Ziethen?" "Of Ziethen. Seidlitz had a wider grasp, I suppose." He pursed his month, pondering. "No; and in the Austrian service, too; generals of cavalry are left to whistle for an independent command. There's a jealousy of our branch!" The injured warrior frowned and hummed. He spoke his thought mildly: "Jealousy of the name of soldier in this country! Out of the service, is the place to recommend. I'd have advised a son of mine to train for a jockey rather than enter it. We deal with that to-morrow, in my papers. You come to me? Mr. Abner has arranged the terms? So I see you at ten in the morning. I am glad to meet a young man--Englishman--who takes an interest in the service." Weyburn fancied the hearing of a step; he heard the whispering dress. It passed him; a lady went to the armchair. She took her seat, as she had moved, with sedateness, the exchange of a toneless word with my lord. She was a brune. He saw that when he rose to do homage. Lord Ormont resumed: "Some are born to it, must be soldiers; and in peace they are snubbed by the heads; in war they are abused by the country. They don't understand in England how to treat an army; how to make one either!