"No, it ain't, gal."

"Oh, yes, uncle, surely!"

The old corporal knocked his stick irritably upon
the ground. "I tell ye it ain't, gal. I asked
parson."

"Well, what did he say?"

"He said there was to be a last fight. He even
gave it a name, he did. The battle of Arm--Arm----"

"Armageddon."

"Aye, that's the name parson said. I 'specs the
Third Guards'll be there. And the Dook--the Dook'll
have a word to say."

An elderly, grey-whiskered gentleman had been
walking down the street, glancing up at the
numbers of the houses. Now as his eyes fell upon the
old man, he came straight for him.

"Hullo!" said he; "perhaps you are Gregory
Brewster?"

"My name, sir," answered the veteran.

"You are the same Brewster, as I understand, who