line on his lips. "Ah, mon camarade," he answered huskily, "it is in
action--that is much; it is for France, that is more to me--everything.
They would not let me serve France in Paris, but I die for her in New
Caledonia. I have lived six-and-twenty years. I have loved the world.
Many men have been kind, and once there was a woman--and I shall see her
soon, quite soon. It is strange. The eyes will become blind, and then
they will open, and--ah!" His fingers closed convulsively on those of
Blake Shorland. When the ghastly tremor, the deadly corrosions of the
poisoned spear passed he said: "So--so! It is the end. C'est bien,
c'est bien!"

All round them the fight raged, and French soldiers were repeating
English bravery in the Soudan.

"It is not against a great enemy, but it is good," said the wounded man
as he heard the conquering cries of a handful of soldiers punishing ten
times their numbers. "You remember Prince Eugene and the assegais?"

"I remember."

"Our Houses were enemies, but we were friends, he and I. And so, and so,
you see, it is the same for both."

Again the teeth of the devouring poison fastened on him, and, when it
left him, a grey pallor had settled upon the face.

Blake Shorland said to him gently: "How do you feel about it all?"

As if in gentle protest the head moved slightly. "All's well, all's
well," the low voice said.