‘I am saying, Polson,’ said the General, encountering the Sergeant halfway along the deck, ‘that it’s unluckier for an old fellow to get bowled over than it is for a young one. You may be as fit as a fiddle again in a month or two, and may have your fill of fighting for Queen and country; but I have done my last day’s work, and that is a weary thing to think of.’ ‘Last day’s fighting, sir?’ said Polson, ‘but not the last day’s work. There’s a heap to be done for the old country yet, and I hope that Irene’s dream may come true and that you may go into the House of Commons and give those beggars at the War Office their proper fodder.’ ‘That is the business of a younger man than I am,’ said the General, ‘and I doubt if there’s any mending in that direction. I have been at the game now, off and on, for something like forty years, and I know we have the best fighting stuff in the world at our command, but the Department have always made it their business to cripple it and starve it, and leave it naked and hungry. I’ve seen it in Spain, and in the Low Countries, and I’ve dragged out three years of it in the old Mahratta country, and it has always been the same. I suppose it always will be until we learn that it is as necessary to have a soldier to look after things at home as it is to have a soldier leading in the field. When we get you home again, my lad, well run you for the Southern Division of the county and you shall talk to ‘em across the floor of the House of Commons.’ The three men reached the bows of the good boat and turned, and there was De Blacquaire before them with a weather-beaten servant holding him by the elbow and piloting him along the deck. He saluted in passing, and the General laid a hand upon his shoulder. ‘I should like half an hour with you this morning,’ he said, ‘if you can spare the time to come into my stateroom for a talk.’ ‘I am at your service now, sir,’ said De Blacquaire. ‘Shall we go down?’ asked the General. ‘One tires easily still, and this May wind gets into an old man’s head like wine.’ ‘And into a young man’s, too,’ said De Blacquaire. ‘I am half tipsy with it, and shall be glad to get into shelter.’ ‘We’ll see you at breakfast, Polson,’ said the General, ‘and until then, good-bye.’ The two men reached the General’s cabin and sat down together. ‘When we touched at Corfu,’ said the General, ‘I found a letter from my London agents--I’d like you to see it, and I shall be glad if you can confirm its contents, or at least a part of them.’ De Blacquaire took the proffered letter and read: