"Surely you have not forgotten it all, my dear fellow--Mary--the
fire--your splendid rescue!"

"Ah!" cried George, "and you have been keeping that in mind all this
time?"

"Not a doubt of that. As I have just said, and repeat, we can never
forget it. From that day you became the dearest friend of our family,
if you will let us call you so."

"Let you! Heaven knows I am more than delighted to be so. We are no
longer silly schoolboys to fight for the merest trifle."

The reconciliation between the old rivals was complete, and the two
boys chatted long together.

"But you are in a cavalry regiment, I see," remarked George presently,
"and a lieutenant. I understood from my father's letter that you had
joined a line regiment with an ensign's commission."

"So I did, my boy; but there are queer turns of fortune in war, and
one of them came to me--only a week or two since, it was." And the
lieutenant laughed pleasantly.

"Tell me how it was," said George, eagerly.

"It is like singing my own praises, Fairburn," the young officer went
on, "but here goes. I'll put it in a score of words. All last year I
went as Ensign Blackett, seeing bits of service here, there, and
everywhere--at Bonn, on the Rhine, then at Huy, and again at