Between the hills the flood of the great river poured along unchecked, until where in the very foreground the grey-green bluff of Martlaer's Rock thrust itself out athwart the stream; bringing it with one sharp turn to its very narrowest and deepest part. For a little distance then, in front of Magnus, the river ran east and west--along the Rock; then took another short turn, and went racing south; the lovely "Shaw-na-taw-ty," that "flows toward the midday." Between the river and the homesick boy lay only the broken hillside and the silent guns. There were no human voices, either, but a chance medley of sweet sounds from other throats. Song sparrows in their rollicking glee, with the homespun twitter of a chipping sparrow, giving her brood their first outing. Robins kept up their changing chorus; crows cawed; among the distant trees you could hear the thrush bells now and then. The indescribable sighs and murmurs and trills of the summer wind, the soft touches of the mighty river along its banks, filled every moment of unappropriated time. Magnus forgot everything, as he looked and listened. June threw her warm spell over him, and for the minute again he was content. "Yes, that can't be beat," remarked his neighbour in grey, who had been watching him closely. "Look at it all you want to; now is a good time." "I think every time is good, for such a view," Magnus said, facing round. "When do you report?" asked the other abruptly. "To-morrow." Magnus answered the question, perceiving the next instant that again he was noted as a candidate. "Well, next week, if you are here, you'll find some other hills lying round promiscuous, and you won't think quite so much about these." "How did you know I was to report at all?" The cadet laughed. "No mistaking a candidate," he said. "You have the real all-overish look about you. And no need to huff up at it, either. I've been there myself, so I know." "Do you like it here?" said Magnus, the flush cooling down. "Fair to middling. When I'm up in math., keep out of Con., and don't get skinned too often." This was high Dutch to Magnus. But he was at the age when pertinent questions are far harder to ask than the impertinent; and nothing would have made him show his ignorance. He went back to the last subject. "You say you know, because you've been a candidate yourself; but who tells all these girls?" "Oh, the girls!" said the cadet. "Yes, there's a good many girls here; and what some of 'em don't know, and don't do, wouldn't fill a collar-box. Even Crinkem's head could hold it." "Who is Crinkem?" "My respected classmate. Absolutely worried along so far, and gone on furlough. Nobody can guess how he did it, either. Who are you?" "Charlemagne Kindred." The cadet gave a long, "Whew!" "Is that all you have for week days?" he asked. "Not quite," said Magnus, smiling in spite of himself. "They call me Magnus, at home."