'What is up, old fellow?' asked Cecil, who had been observing him narrowly; 'you seem as if you had something on your mind--something cheery too. Are you about to quit this work as not very remunerative?' 'That I shall no doubt do in time, if some Turkish bullet does not knock me on the head,' replied Pelham, as he carefully selected a fresh cigar; 'but I have something in my mind--whether cheery or not, I cannot say; but finish your meal--fill your glass again, and then we'll have a talk about it.' While Cecil satisfied an appetite the result of much recent exposure and exercise, Stanley produced a worn, frayed and very tattered copy of the Times--a copy that was now a month or two old. 'By Jove! when I look upon this paper, "how the old time comes o'er me," as Claud Melnotte says,' exclaimed Stanley; 'and Regent Street, the Row, the clubs with their bow-windows, the parks, the coaching meet, the collar days at Buckingham Palace--the bank guard, pocketing the guinea and punishing the port, the West End--how London, one and all, with its beauties, comforts and luxuries appear in mental procession, making one long to leave Servia and Servian affairs to the care of the devil; for the lark is over--the game played out; I for one have had enough of it, and home is now the place for me!' Cecil sighed. He had no--_home_! 'To what is all this the preface?' he asked. 'To nothing; it is only the expression of my own thoughts; but there is a notice in the _War Office Gazette_ here--where the deuce--oh, here it is. I have heard you speak, more than once, quite incidentally, of the Cameronians.' 'Likely enough--I knew some of them--once.' Cecil winced as he spoke, for Stanley was eyeing him keenly, and then said: 'Look here, old fellow, do you know anything of this--this name--Pelham and I have been puzzling our brains over the announcement.' Cecil took the paper and gave a violent start, with a half suppressed exclamation, as he read: 'CAMERONIANS--The name of the officer, the proceedings of the court-martial on whom were cancelled, and who was re-gazetted to this regiment in last week's _Gazette_, is Captain Cecil Falconer Montgomerie--not Captain Cecil Falconer, as formerly.' 'Montgomerie--what can this mean!' said Cecil almost involuntarily, and feeling intensely perplexed. He was, beyond all description, startled too, while a great rush of joy and hope mingled in his heart, with the surprise that possessed him. The notice--the cancelled proceedings of the court-martial, and the name evidently referred to himself, but whence came this addition--the surname of Montgomerie? Stanley was watching him silently. Was all this the clue to much apparent mental suffering, that Pelham and himself had suspected and seen? Was this the explanation of much in his manner that seemed reserved and curt, when 'the service' was spoken of, though they both suspected shrewdly that he had been in it--was 'an army man?'