It was pretty to see the grey and white figures coming out from the dusky shadows among the trees, and crossing to the tents. Some at a quick run, others slowly, as under protest: here and there one very lingeringly, with many a backward look and farewell word, to some white-robed vision that shewed angelic in the uncertain light. Meanwhile, the racket of drum and fife filled all the air, rattling up and down the company streets. The crowd scattered, the band tramped off; and still here and there a tardy cadet came hurrying in, but only in time to get a cold "late" or "absence." "Oh, it _is_ such fun to make them run!" said one fair creature delightedly. "I just kept Mr. Dunkirk fooling along after the first drum; and there he goes, for all he is worth." "Too late?" queried a quiet lady in a dark dress. "Not too late to get to bed," said Miss Saucy. "They won't make him walk post to-night, poor boy. But he'll be on the black list to-morrow." "Then you won't have him to walk with on Saturday," said another girl. "Have somebody else, _ma chère_. One gets tired of the same man too often. If I didn't trip him up now and then I should die of a surfeit of honey, and never have a chance at treacle and lumps of sugar." "But do you mean to say," said the lady in black, "do you really mean to say that you get these young men into difficulty _wilfully_? That _you_ are responsible for their being late?" "Well, I do everything wilfully," said the girl--"and I am never responsible for anything. So I don't know how you'll fix it." "I shall tell the Commandant to-morrow!" said the lady excitedly. "No good." said the girl. "He can't skin me--and he _will_ skin him. It don't hurt much: _he_ don't care. Says he don't." "He ought to care!" "Very likely he ought," said Miss Saucy. "Oh, he's not absolute perfection--won't be canonised till he's dead, I dare say." XI ON GUARD Twelve small strokes on the tinkling bell; Midnight comes, and all is well! --_Culprit Fay._ Yes, with the new uniform came also new work, as Magnus had been warned. Guard duty put in its claim, and the plebs were promoted to walk post, and to learn what upper classmen could do to make that duty unpleasant. "Jumping plebs" went on with variations. "Crawling" seems to be the favourite word now, but probably the thing itself is not much slower than it was of yore. The first night on guard was a never-to-be-forgotten thing to Magnus Kindred. It was a quiet night enough, so far as disturbances went, for this time the tide of mischief seemed to set in some other direction. But that only left the power of the night itself unchecked. So still, so solemn, so sweet, and yet with such a bitter flavour. Strange beyond description, and beautiful past all telling.