The column reached the city of Abu Klea in the evening, and then, parched and choked with thirst after the heat and toil and fierce excitement of the past night and day, all enjoyed the supreme luxury of the cold water from the fifty springs or more that bubbled in the Wady. Round these, men, horses, and camels gathered to quench their thirst, that amounted to agony, by deep and repeated draughts, while fires were lighted and a meal prepared. Next followed the battle of Gubat and the futile expedition of Sir Charles Wilson, both of which are somewhat apart from our story. The death of Colonel Burnaby, of the Blues, created a profound sensation in London society, where he was a great favourite; but there were many more than he to sorrow for. Skene's fall made a deep impression among the Staffordshire, as he was greatly beloved by the soldiers. 'Poor Malcolm--killed at last!' said Roland, when the tidings came up the river to the bivouac at Hamdab. He should never see his brown, dark eyes again; feel the firm clasp of his friendly hand, or hear his cheery voice say--'Well, Roland--old fellow!' 'But it may be my turn next,' thought he. 'Poor Malcolm!' said Jack Elliot; 'I have known him nurse the sick, bury the dead, sit for hours playing with a soldier's ailing child, and once he swam a mile and more to save a poor dog from drowning. And as he spoke, sometimes a tearless sob shook Elliot's sturdy frame, and Roland knew that with his friend Malcolm 'All was ended now--the hope, the fear, and the sorrow; All the aching of the heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing; All the dull, deep pain and constant anguish of patience-- His love and his life had ended together!' CHAPTER LIII A HOMEWARD GLANCE. The action of one human being on another, by subtle means, it has been said, is as effective as the action of light on the air: that under the influence of Hawkey Sharpe and certain new circumstances, Annot Drummond had visibly deteriorated already. Her high-flown ideas and undoubtedly better breeding had caused her to experience many a shock when in the daily and hourly society of her husband, with all his vulgar and horsey ways, and he was certainly far below that young lady's high-pitched expectations and her love of externals. Her life at Earlshaugh had at first been getting quite like a story, she thought, and a perplexingly interesting story, too, with the high game she had to play for--a game in manoeuvres worthy of Machiavelli himself. Annot, we know, was not tall; but her slight figure was prettily rounded. She carried herself well, though too quick and impulsive in her movements for real dignity, and as Maude had said, she never could conceive her at the head of a household, or taking a place in society. Now, as the wife of 'a cad' like Hawkey Sharpe, the latter was not to be thought of.