Little Mildred filled a sherry-glass with the brandy and thrust it
over to the man. He drank, and the tune rose louder, and he
straightened himself yet more. Then he put out his long-taloned
hands to a piece of plate opposite and fingered it lovingly. There
was a mystery connected with that piece of plate, in the shape of
a spring which converted what was a seven-branched candlestick,
three springs on each side and one in the middle, into a sort of
wheel-spoke candelabrum. He found the spring, pressed it, and
laughed weakly. He rose from his chair and inspected a picture on
the wall, then moved on to another picture, the mess watching him
without a word. When he came to the mantelpiece he shook his head
and seemed distressed. A piece of plate representing a mounted
hussar in full uniform caught his eye. He pointed to it, and then
to the mantelpiece with inquiry in his eyes.

"What is it - Oh, what is it?" said little Mildred. Then as a
mother might speak to a child, "That is a horse. Yes, a horse."

Very slowly came the answer in a thick, passionless guttural-"
Yes, I - have seen. But - where is the horse?"

You could have heard the hearts of the mess beating as the men
drew back to give the stranger full room in his wanderings. There
was no question of calling the guard.

Again he spoke - very slowly, "Where is our horse?"

There is but one horse in the White Hussars, and his portrait
hangs outside the door of the mess-room. He is the piebald drum-
horse, the king of the regimental band, that served the regiment