He walked for two miles deep in thought, and then coming to a shady bank
took a seat upon an inviting piece of turf and lit his pipe. The heat
and the drowsy hum of bees made him nod; his pipe hung from the corner of
his mouth, and his eyes closed.

He opened them at the sound of approaching footsteps, and, feeling in his
pocket for matches, gazed lazily at the intruder. He saw a tall man
carrying a small bundle over his shoulder, and in the erect carriage, the
keen eyes, and bronzed face had little difficulty in detecting the old
soldier.

The stranger stopped as he reached the seated boatswain and eyed him
pleasantly.

"Got a pipe o' baccy, mate?" he inquired.

The boatswain handed him the small metal box in which he kept that
luxury.

"Lobster, ain't you?" he said, affably.

The tall man nodded. "Was," he replied. "Now I'm my own commander-in-
chief."

"Padding it?" suggested the boatswain, taking the box from him and
refilling his pipe.

The other nodded, and with the air of one disposed to conversation
dropped his bundle in the ditch and took a seat beside him. "I've got