"There's thousands of women that'd ride out mad to meet him," said
Soolsby carefully; "women that likes to see an Englishman that's done his
duty--ay, women and men, that'd ride hard to welcome him back from the
grave. Her ladyship's as good a patriot as any," he added, watching the
Duchess out of the corners of his eyes, his face turned to the desert.

The Duchess looked at him quizzically, and was satisfied with her
scrutiny. "You're a man of sense," she replied brusquely, and gathered
up her skirts. "Find me a horse or a donkey, and I'll go too," she added
whimsically. "Patriotism is such a nice sentiment."

For David and Lacey the morning had broken upon a new earth. Whatever of
toil and tribulation the future held in store, this day marked a step
forward in the work to which David had set his life. A way had been
cloven through the bloody palisades of barbarism, and though the dark
races might seek to hold back the forces which drain the fens, and build
the bridges, and make the desert blossom as the rose, which give liberty
and preserve life, the good end was sure and near, whatever of rebellion
and disorder and treachery intervened. This was the larger, graver
issue; but they felt a spring in the blood, and their hearts were
leaping, because of the thought that soon they would clasp hands again
with all from which they had been exiled.

"Say, Saadat, think of it: a bed with four feet, and linen sheets, and
sleeping till any time in the morning, and, If you please, sir,
breakfast's on the table.' Say, it's great, and we're in it!"

David smiled. "Thee did very well, friend, without such luxuries. Thee
is not skin and bone."