"Really don't know. _À la belle étoile_, I suppose. That horrid man that's ordering the men about won't let us have our boxes. We shall take cold. I have nothing but this shawl." Just then the Colonel presented himself: "I am very sorry," he said, with some bitterness, "that my house should be burnt down, if the accident has caused you any inconvenience. Mrs. Stanburne is come to offer you some accommodation at Wenderholme Cottage." Lady Brabazon was going to make a speech of condolence, but the Colonel prevented it by adding, "Pray excuse me--I ought to be amongst the men;" and bowing very deferentially, he disappeared. John Stanburne left Eureton in command, and worked himself as a volunteer amongst the water-carriers within the building. The reaction from his despair about Edith made his other misfortunes light, and he worked with a cheerfulness and courage that did good to the men about him. "This is hot work," he said to one of the volunteers; "have none of the men had any thing to drink?" "Thank you, sir, we are doing pretty well for that. We take a little water from the buckets now and then." "And the other fellows who are removing the furniture?" "It must be dry work for them, sir." On this the Colonel said he could be more useful elsewhere, and went to find out his old butler. This was very easy, since the Adjutant knew where every one was posted. The Colonel, with a small party of trustworthy sober fellows, went down into the cellar, and returned with some dozens of bottled ale and other liquids. He made it his business to distribute refreshment amongst the men, giving the glass always with his own hand, and never without some kind expression of his personal gratitude for the exertions they had made. He took this office upon himself simply because he "thought the men must be thirsty," as he expressed it; but the deepest policy could not have suggested a better thing to do. It brought him into personal contact with every volunteer about the place, and in the most graceful way.