The two lads parted then, for Tom swung away in the direction of the playground, leaving Ted staring blankly after him; and there he stood for full five minutes, until, his eyes blinded with pain, he could see no longer, and then he turned away and hid his face upon his arm against a friendly sheltering wall. [Illustration: Hid his face upon his arm against a friendly sheltering wall] But by-and-by his jealousy of Jack Green began to wear away. Perhaps, after all, he argued, Tom only wanted to hide his trouble. Tom was a big lad, and was even more ashamed than Ted of being betrayed into weeping and such-like exhibitions of weakness. So, by the time they turned in for the night--the last night--Ted had forgotten the pain of the afternoon. "Tom," said he, going over to his chum’s bed, which was next to his, "Tom, I’ve come to talk to you." "Yes," whispered Tom in reply. The lights were all out then, and most of the boys were fast asleep, so big Tom drew his chum’s head down to his, and put his arm round his neck. "It’s the last night, Tom," said Ted in a strangled voice. "Yes," said Tom, in a whisper. "We’ve been chums for three years and more," Ted went on, "and we’ve never been out of friends yet. P’raps I shall get an exchange to your reg’ment yet." "Or me to yours," answered Tom eagerly. "I shan’t have no chum now," Ted went on, taking no notice of Tom’s words. "You’ll have Jack Green," said Tom. "Yes, there’ll be Jack Green, but he ain’t you," Ted answered mournfully. "He’ll never be my chum like you was, Tom; but if ever I’ve a chance of doing him a good turn, I will, ’cause _you_ liked him." "Will you, Ted?" eagerly. "Yes, I will," answered Ted steadily. "And, Tom, it’s our last time together to-night--we mayn’t ever get together again." "I know," sighed Tom. "I wish," Ted said hesitatingly--"oh, Tom," with a sorrowful catch in his voice and a great gulp in his throat, "I--I--do wish you’d kiss me--just once." And so Tom Boynton put his other arm around his chum’s neck, and the two lads, who had been friends for three years, held one another for a minute in a close embrace; an instant later Ted Petres tore himself away and sprang into his bed, dragging the clothes over his head, and burying his face in the pillow in a vain attempt to stifle his sobs. And before another day had gone over their heads they had parted, to meet again--when--and where? PART II Seven years had gone by. A fierce and scorching sun shone down with glaring radiance upon long stretches of arid and sandy country, covered sparsely with coarse rank grass and brushwood--the country which is called the Soudan; the country where so many brilliant lives ended, sacrificed in the cause of a crusade as hopeless as the crusade of the children--who sought to win Heaven with glory where the flower of the nations had failed--sacrificed to the death in the too late attempt to succour a gallant soldier, the noble victim of an ignoble policy.