Commandant Rattier looked, nodded, and smiled. For a sailor, people were apt to consider him taciturn--at first; but they soon discovered that his was a taciturnity which spoke. His brown eyes could gleam with many lights which were whimsically expressive. A little sidelong jerk of his neatly trimmed beard told more than many elaborated sentences. Reputations had tottered and scandals had been abashed before a single gesture of his neatly gloved hands. For the moment his nod suggested content, anticipation, and unruffled good humor. A minute later surprise overcame his reticence. Half a dozen dull, half-muffled explosions throbbed in the distant jungle of broom and wild olive. The commandant's eyebrows rose in arcs of amazement. "Do they then shoot the boar as well as impale it?" he asked. Aylmer smiled. "The beaters," he explained. "They are driving towards the plain behind the marsh. They are firing blank charges." The Frenchman gave a little laugh. "In all these matters you must remember that I am of an ignorance the most profound. And my impudence, also, must appear to you colossal. I am to allow myself to charge with a spear--I, who, till to-day, have never seen a wild pig save, perhaps, as bacon!" Aylmer dropped the reins upon the mare's neck, lifted his hand, and wiped his forehead. "All things must have a beginning, my friend," he said. "You have the sailor's eye and, no doubt, the sailor's steady hand. And, above all, you ride--as sailors do not always ride. I have every reason to believe that I shall be proud of you before the day is out." Rattier lifted his shoulders with a little shrug. He did not speak, but he left the impression that he deprecated this point of view, found the arguments futile, and disposed of the question finally. The attention of the riders was suddenly drawn elsewhere. A couple of men emerged into view from behind a clump of argans. They held two horses by the bridles. One of them signalled with outstretched hand. As Aylmer reined in the mare almost upon her haunches the man dropped his hand, relinquished the horse he held into the care of his companion, and approached. He made a dignified gesture of welcome and pointed to a basket on the ground. "Sid' Anstruther sends breakfast, Sidi. They drive the bush beyond the hill and the marsh. If you will refresh yourselves here you will avoid climbing the hill to the camp. You can then take these horses and join the spears who wait at the tongue of the jungle in the plain." Aylmer slid to the ground. "It is well thought of, Absalaam," he said, and turned to explain matters to his companion. The Moor beckoned forward his underling, who quickly tethered the fresh horses to a broom stump and then led away the other two in the direction of the tents which gleamed white upon the slope a mile or so above them. Absalaam, meanwhile, was deftly setting out the meal in the shadow of the argan branches.