"You are eating nothing, Halket," said the Englishman, cheerily, looking
back.

"I am not hungry now," he said. After a while he took out his red
handkerchief, and emptied carefully into it the contents of the plate; and
tied it up into a bundle. He set it beside him on the ground, and again
lay on his elbow.

"You won't come nearer to the fire, Halket?' asked the Englishman.

"No, thank you, the night is warm."

After a while Peter Halket took out from his belt a small hunting knife
with a rough wooden handle. A small flat stone lay near him, and he passed
the blade slowly up and down on it, now and then taking it up, and feeling
the edge with his finger. After a while he put it back in his belt, and
rose slowly, taking up his small bundle and walked away to the tent.

"He's had a pretty stiff day," said the Colonial. "I expect he's glad
enough to turn in."

Then all the men round the fire chatted freely over his concerns. Would
the Captain stick to his word tomorrow? Was Halket going to do it? Had
the Captain any right to tell one man off for the work, instead of letting
them fire a volley? One man said he would do it gladly in Halket's place,
if told off; why had he made such a fool of himself? So they chatted till
nine o'clock, when the Englishman and Colonial left to turn in. They found
Halket asleep, close to the side of the tent, with his face turned to the
canvas. And they lay down quietly that they might not disturb him.