you the fellow's heroic deeds, and then you'll never spot him. I met him
first in South Africa. He saved my life twice. Once he carried me nearly
a mile under fire, and got wounded in the process. Another time he sat
all night under fire holding a fellow's artery. Since then he has been
knocking about in odd corners, doing splendid things in the dark, as it
were, for he is horribly modest. The last I heard of him was from my
friend Captain Raglan. He travelled on Raglan's ship from Calcutta, One
night in the Mediterranean something went wrong in the engine-room. Two
of the boat's engineers were badly scalded. They managed to get away,
but a wretched stoker was too hurt to escape, and this fellow--this hero
of mine--went down into a perfect inferno and got him out. Not only
that, he went back afterwards with one of the engineers to direct him,
and worked like a bull till the mischief was put right. There was danger
of an explosion every moment, but he never lost his nerve for an
instant. When it was over everyone concerned was sworn to secrecy, and
not a passenger on board that boat knew what had actually taken place.
As I said before, he is not the sort of chap anyone would credit with
that sort of heroism. I shan't tell you what he is like in other
respects."

"I probably know," said Molly. "I came home on Captain Raglan's ship in
the autumn."

"What! You were on board?" exclaimed Bertie. "What a rum go! You will
meet one or two old friends, then. And the hero is probably known to you
already, though I'm sure you have never taken him for such."

"Oh, you're quite wrong!" laughed Molly. "I have known him and detected
his splendid qualities for quite a long while. He is nice, isn't he? I
am glad he is coming."