The Soldier rose and strolled over to the window. For a while he leaned against the open frame, smoking quietly, and hardly conscious of the argument which had started in the room behind him. The power of the stage as a pulpit was an evergreen with the Celebrated Actor, and he felt in no mood for a discussion on the matter. The youngster, Hugh Dawnay, was filling his mind, and also Tommy, that morning. He’d helped the vet. put the little terrier under, with a dose of prussic acid, and after it was over the two men had stared at one another, and then looked away, as is the manner of men who are feeling deeply. "I hate it, more and more each time," said the vet., gruffly. "Poor little chap!" "It’s worse than a man," snapped the General. "A dog trusts a fellow so—so infernally. Damn that young Parker!" With which explosion he had blown his nose loudly and stalked off for a long walk. At length he pitched his cigarette away and turned back into the room. And at that moment, very clear and distinct from somewhere in the garden, there came a low whistle. "Hush! you fellows, listen!" The argument ceased at his abrupt words, and the two men stared at him, as he stood motionless half-way between the table and the window. "Did you hear that whistle?" "Personally, I did not," remarked the Actor, "but at the moment I was engrossed in other matters. A vulgar habit—whistling—but not, I regret to say, uncommon." "There’s someone in the garden," said the General. "I thought I saw something move earlier, and just then I heard a whistle most distinctly." "My dear man," said the Actor, with a beneficent wave of his shapely hand, "are there not maidservants in the house? I fear that soldiering destroys romance." The Soldier grunted. "Perhaps you’re right. My mind was busy with other things. I think I’ll take a stroll outside, too, for a bit. Give me a hail when you’ve finished your discussion." He moved once more towards the window, only to pause on the threshold. "Why, Hugh, my dear lad," he said, quietly, "it’s good to see you again. Come in." And the Celebrated Actor and the Eminent Divine, looking up quickly at his words, saw a man standing outside on the path, whose face was the face of one into whose soul the iron had entered. For a moment or two Hugh Dawnay hesitated. Then, with the faintest perceptible shrug of his shoulders, he stepped into the room. He glanced at each man in turn; then his eyes came back to the Soldier’s face and rested there. "Good evening, General." His voice was quite expressionless. "I must apologize for intruding like this." "Apologize!" The Soldier smiled at him. "What the devil is there to apologize about? I’m just amazingly glad to see you. Do you know the Bishop of Sussex and Mr. Trayne?"