put my foot over the mat, there was Cousin Edie, just the same as ever,
staring at me with those wild eyes of hers. For a moment she did not
recognise me, but when she did she just took three steps forward and
sprang at me, with her two arms round my neck.

"Oh, my dear old Jock," she cried, "how fine you look in a red coat!"

"Yes, I am a soldier now, Edie," said I, very stiffly; for as I looked
at her pretty face, I seemed to see behind it that other face which had
looked up to the morning sky on the Belgium battle-field.

"Fancy that!" she cried. "What are you, then, Jock? A general?
A captain?"

"No, I am a private."

"What! Not one of the common people who carry guns?"

"Yes, I carry a gun."

"Oh, that is not nearly so interesting," said she. And she went back to
the sofa from which she had risen. It was a wonderful room, all silk
and velvet and shiny things, and I felt inclined to go back to give my
boots another rub. As Edie sat down again, I saw that she was all in
black, and so I knew that she had heard of de Lissac's death.

"I am glad to see that you know all," said I, for I am a clumsy hand at
breaking things. "He said that you were to keep whatever was in the
boxes, and that Antoine had the keys."