"_Mon Dieu!_ you've had hard luck! Weil, I must get on or our lively red-legs won't leave a stick in Sebastopol. We've been doing all we could to get in, and now my orders are to let no one in on any account. Adieu!" And they went off at a clanking gallop to make up for lost time. Jim set off again in gloomy spirits for British Head-quarters on the other side of the Balaclava road. Jack gone! His father gone! George Herapath and Ralph Harben gone. His little world seemed devastated. He wondered if any of the home folk were left. Gracie--Good God!--suppose Gracie were dead! And Charles Eager, and Sir Denzil! In six months anything might have happened to any or all of them. Tatia was the only fairly cheerful member of the party. To her it was like heaven to be out of that dreadful prison-house below. She had grown so used to the smell of gunpowder that the keen sweet air intoxicated her with delight. Her mother was very weary with the long walk; and as for Greski, his thigh was giving him pain, and the only thing he wanted now was to sit down and rest it. Except for the sentries and a few underlings, British Head-quarters was deserted like the rest of the camp. All the world was down at the front, watching the end of Sebastopol. So they sat on a bench in the sunshine, and waited for some one to turn up. The first to come was McLean, the young doctor with whom Jim had crossed to Constantinople on the _Carnbrea_. He was looking older, but well and cheerful. "Hello!" he cried, as soon as his eyes lighted on Jim. "It's good to set eyes on some one alive that one knew six months ago. Where have you been all this time? I see you've suffered too"--with a glance at the empty sleeve. "Been in Sebastopol for last nine months. Glad to get out." "About as glad as we are to get in. Going home, I suppose?" "Just as quick as I can. Come to report myself, but there's no one to report to." "All at the front, I suppose. It's a great day this. We're shipping off loads of sick men as fast as we can fit them for the voyage. Our old friend Jolly's in Balaclava Bay. He'd be delighted to take you, I know, if you can fix matters up quickly here." "Things any better than they used to be?" "Oh, we're all learning by experience. Even the red-tape isn't as red as it used to be; it's not much more than pink now. We've got everything we need for the sick, anyway, and that's something. By the way, there was a man here inquiring for you a short time ago--came out on purpose, I believe, and brought a shipload of just the things we were needing most." "Oh? Who was that?" "A lean-faced chap--a parson, and better than most. What was his name now?--Earnest--Eager? that was it--Charles Eager." "Eager? The dear old chap! Just like him! How long since?" "Oh, months--four or five at least. Here's the Chief!"--as a thin, quiet-looking man with a tired face rode up with a couple of aides, saluted the little party, and went inside.