“One word I have to say and no more. I have letters from London; all has been communicated to the King and the Duke of York, who have both approved of all I have said and done.... All is now ready the moment the wind is easterly. You may write when you think fit, as I shall leave directions about my letters.” This was not the end of the matter. But before telling the rest, a few words about Roy are needful. * * * * * For Roy was entering on his first campaign. He was full of delight at the prospect. During months past a passionate craving to be sent against the enemy had pervaded the English Army, and Roy was behind no one in this desire. Alike by inheritance and by early training, his instincts were all soldierly; and that was an age to call forth patriotism in the dullest nature. But Roy was by no means dull. To be ordered, when barely eighteen, to the seat of war—to serve under Moore himself—this indeed was a fulfilment of Roy’s utmost longings. “You’ll write to me sometimes, won’t you?” pleaded Molly, clinging tearfully to him, when he came to say good-bye. “And don’t be taken prisoner again.” “Trust me for that!” laughed Roy. “I’ve had a taste already of French prisons. Take care of yourself, Molly; and don’t let Polly lose heart.” “See, Roy, I have made this little case for you. It has paper and pen and pencil in it, and a tiny ink-bottle. And you can put it into such a little corner, or into your pocket. I want you to keep a journal of all that happens—ever so few words at a time. And perhaps you might send me a sheet now and then, when it is full.” “All right. I don’t mind if I do. Not a bad notion, on the whole. You’re a good little sister. No man ever had a better.” Roy arrived at Portsmouth while Sir John Moore was still there, and before he had given over the command to Burrard. It was always his way to see, and personally to influence, the young officers placed under his command, and though he was not to be at the head of affairs, he would still have control of his own Division. Moore did not leave nearly so much to unassisted Nature as a good many generals of the day were content to do. Roy, being aware of this, was not astonished to be early summoned to his presence, and punctually at the hour named he reached Sir John’s lodgings. Others were there when he entered, but Roy saw little clearly besides this princely soldier, with whose fame for many a long year all Britain had been ringing, whose name on Ivor’s lips had been from Roy’s infancy the very embodiment of all that was noble and true.