reared in a stern and more northern school, but he had learned long
since that a love of innocent pleasure was no sign of effeminacy or
corruption.

"Good to look on, isn't it, Harry?" said St. Clair.

"Yes, and good to hear, too."

"Come with me into this little dip, and I'll show you another sight
that's good to see."

There was a low ridge on their right, crested with tall trees and
dropping down abruptly on the other side. A little distance on rose
another low ridge, but between the two was a snug and grassy bowl,
and within the bowl, sitting on the dry grass, with a chessboard between
them, were Colonel Leonidas Talbot and Lieutenant-Colonel Hector
St. Hilaire. They were absorbed so deeply in their game that they did
not notice the boys on the crest of the bank looking over at them.

Colonel Leonidas Talbot and Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire had
not changed a particle--to the eyes, at least--in a year and a half of
campaigning and tremendous battles. They may have been a little leaner
and a little thinner, but they were lean and thin men, anyhow. Their
uniforms, although faded and worn, were neat and clean, and as each sat
on a fragment of log, while the board rested on a stump between, they
were able to maintain their dignity.

It was Colonel Talbot's move. His hand rested on the red king and he
pondered long. Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire waited without a sign of
impatience. He would take just as long a time with his knight or bishop,