And at the same moment he saw Chrysos Lacy. There was no time for explanations; clearly she was too frightened to stir; so he quietly picked her up on his advance to the rear-front, carrying her in the first-aid style approved by the H. B. M. medical staff, and scaled the five-bar fence as no barrier had ever been scaled at Aldershot or Olympia by any warrior in khaki or scarlet tunic. "Th-thank you," said Chrysos, unwinding her arms from the baronet's neck as the bull came trotting up on the other side of the fence and bellowed at them. Not the slightest atom of fright remained, only a wild-rose tint in her cheeks. She considered the bull, absently, patted a tendril of hair into symmetry; but the breeze loosened it again, and she let it blow across her cheek. "We should have been in South Africa together," said Sir Charles. "We manœuvre beautifully as a unit." [Illustration: "'And it is to be your last breakfast.'"] The girl laughed, then spying more wild strawberries--the quest of which had beguiled her into hostile territory--dropped on her knees and began to explore. The berries were big and ripe--huge drops of crimson honey hanging heavily, five to a stalk. The meadow-grass was red with them, and Sir Charles, without more ado, got down on all-fours and started to gather them with all the serious and thorough determination characteristic of that warrior. "You're not to eat any, yet," said Chrysos. "Of course not; they're for your breakfast I take it," he said. "For yours." He straightened up on his knees: "For mine?" "Certainly." "You didn't go wandering afield at this hour to pick wild strawberries for _my_ breakfast!" he said incredulously. "Yes, I did," said the girl; and continued exploring, parting the high grass-stems to feel for and detach some berry-loaded stem. "Do you know," he said, returning to his labours, "that I am quite overcome by your thought of me?" "Why? We are friends.... And it is to be your last breakfast." There was not the slightest tremor in her voice, but her pretty face was carefully turned away so that if there was to be anything to notice in the features he could not notice it. "I'll miss you a lot," he said. "And I you, Sir Charles." "You'll be over, I suppose." "I suppose so." "That will be jolly," he said, sitting back on his heels to rest, and to watch her--to find pleasure in her youth and beauty as she moved gracefully amid the fragrant grasses, one little sun-tanned hand clasping a great bouquet of the crimson fruit which nodded heavily amid tufts of trefoil leaves. In the barred shadow of the pasture-fence they rested from their exertions, she rearranging their bouquets of berries and tying them fast with grass-stems. "It has been a pleasant comradeship," he said. "Yes." "You have found it so, too?" "Yes."