for the shore under Gunner's Meadow.'

"Then my father pulled for the shore, and ran his boat in under
Gunner's Meadow. And they stepped out, all three, and walked up to
the meadow. By the gate the drummer halted and began his tattoo
again, looking out towards the darkness over the sea.

"And while the drum beat, and my father held his breath, there came
up out of the sea and the darkness a troop of many men, horse and
foot, and formed up among the graves; and others rose out of the
graves and formed up--drowned Marines with bleached faces, and pale
Hussars riding their horses, all lean and shadowy. There was no
clatter of hoofs or accoutrements, my father said, but a soft sound
all the while, like the beating of a bird's wing, and a black shadow
lying like a pool about the feet of all. The drummer stood upon a
little knoll just inside the gate, and beside him the tall trumpeter,
with hand on hip, watching them gather; and behind them both my
father, clinging to the gate. When no more came, the drummer stopped
playing, and said, 'Call the roll.'

"Then the trumpeter stepped towards the end man of the rank and
called, 'Troop-Sergeant-Major Thomas Irons!' and the man in a thin
voice answered 'Here!'

"'Troop-Sergeant-Major Thomas Irons, how is it with you?'

"The man answered, 'How should it be with me? When I was young, I
betrayed a girl; and when I was grown, I betrayed a friend; and for
these things I must pay. But I died as a man ought. God save the
King!'