"Now, Norcliff, what the devil is up?" interrupted Studhome, getting fresh glasses the while, and pushing the cigar-box towards me. "Nothing wrong with your troop, eh?" said our lieutenant-colonel, lowering his eyebrows. "No, colonel—a personal matter has brought me here," I replied, while they, perceiving that I was pale and agitated, exchanged glances of inquiry. "We shall soon be off, Norcliff," said the colonel; "Travers and others have disposed of their spare horses; Scriven has sent his stud to Tattersall’s; the drag we shall leave here with the depôt. Wilford’s yacht rides at Cowes with the symbolical broom at her masthead. I have been changing the dismounted men every three days, so that, come what may, all shall be perfect lancers when the complete mount arrives; and we have had the horses inspected once in each week by the veterinary surgeon, to ascertain whether there is among them any contagious disease, as that, you know, would play the deuce with us on service. Dragoons without horses (poor Beverley foresaw not the horrors awaiting the cavalry before Sebastopol) would be like rifles without locks. I also wish the corps to be supplied with water-decks,[*] but cannot get them; and now, Norcliff, that you have drawn breath, empty your glass, and say in what manner we can assist you." [*] A piece of painted canvas, to cover the saddle, bridle, and girths of a cavalry horse, and sometimes pegged to the ground. The name of the corps was usually painted on the outside; and when the trooper was mounted for service, the deck was strapped over his portmanteau. "You shall hear, colonel," said I, taking his proffered hand; "I sought Studhome to obtain his advice, as my oldest and one of my most valued friends in the regiment, and I shall gladly avail myself of yours, under the pledge of secrecy, as the name of a lady is concerned in what I shall have the honour to relate to you." "Ah," said the colonel, throwing open his frogged surtout, and half closing his eyes, as he lounged on two chairs, with the air of one who waits and listens, "this prologue bodes something unpleasant." Beverley’s voice and manner were slightly affected, but withal were very pleasing. He was, as I have said elsewhere, a very handsome man, of middle age, with a keen dark grey eye, and close crisp hair, somewhat of a drawler in speech, but well and powerfully built, broad-shouldered, lean-flanked, and a good average dragoon officer. Under excitement his features and bearing changed; he became brief and rapid; his lips became decided, though his very black moustache concealed them. I related succinctly the story of Miss Auriol, and the slanders concerning me circulated in Maidstone—slanders of which Studhome was quite cognizant; I adverted to my engagement with Lady Louisa, and detailed the trap I had fallen into, and the use Berkeley had made of it, adding that I had resolved to parade him—to call him out, and had told him so, face to face.