half-formed girl, resumed their tales and toss-potting with
unconcern.

Miller Loveday had fraternized with half the soldiers in the camp
since their arrival, and the effect of this upon his party was
striking--both chromatically and otherwise. Those among the guests
who first attracted the eye were the sergeants and sergeant-majors
of Loveday's regiment, fine hearty men, who sat facing the candles,
entirely resigned to physical comfort. Then there were other
non-commissioned officers, a German, two Hungarians, and a Swede,
from the foreign hussars--young men with a look of sadness on their
faces, as if they did not much like serving so far from home. All
of them spoke English fairly well. Old age was represented by Simon
Burden the pensioner, and the shady side of fifty by Corporal
Tullidge, his friend and neighbour, who was hard of hearing, and sat
with his hat on over a red cotton handkerchief that was wound
several times round his head. These two veterans were employed as
watchers at the neighbouring beacon, which had lately been erected
by the Lord-Lieutenant for firing whenever the descent on the coast
should be made. They lived in a little hut on the hill, close by
the heap of faggots; but to-night they had found deputies to watch
in their stead.

On a lower plane of experience and qualifications came neighbour
James Comfort, of the Volunteers, a soldier by courtesy, but a
blacksmith by rights; also William Tremlett and Anthony
Cripplestraw, of the local forces. The two latter men of war were
dressed merely as villagers, and looked upon the regulars from a
humble position in the background. The remainder of the party was
made up of a neighbouring dairyman or two, and their wives, invited