Alas! that long years of peace should have rusted administrative machinery!  That so many of these and other brave men should be sacrificed before the year was out for want of food, fuel, and clothing—­the commonest supplies.

There seemed little need to improve a military machine so perfect at all its points.  But the fastidious eye of Colonel Blythe, who commanded the Royal Picts, saw many blemishes in his regiment, and he was determined to make the most of the time still intervening before embarkation.  Parades were perpetual; for the inspection of arms and accoutrements, for developing manual dexterity, and efficiency in drill.  Still he was not satisfied.

“We must have a new sergeant-major,” said the old martinet to his adjutant in the orderly-room.

The post was vacant for the moment through the promotion of its late holder to be quartermaster.

“Yes, sir; the sooner the better.  The difficulty is to choose.”

“I have been thinking it over, Smallfield, and have decided to promote Hyde.  Send for him.”

Colour-sergeant Hyde, erect, self-possessed—­a pattern soldier in appearance and propriety—­presently marched in and stood respectfully at “attention” before his superior.

“Sergeant Hyde!” said the colonel, abruptly, “I am going to make you a sergeant-major.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Hyde, saluting; “I had rather not take it.”

“Heavens above!” cried the colonel, fiercely.  He was of the old school, and used expletives freely.  “You must be an idiot!”

“I am sensible, sir, of the honour you would do me, but—­”

“Nonsense, man!  I insist.  I must have you.”

“No, sir,” said Hyde, firmly, “I must decline the honour.”

“Was there ever such an extraordinary fellow?  Why, man alive! it will reinstate you—­”

“I must beg, sir,” said Hyde, hastily interrupting, and looking with intention towards the adjutant.

“Yes, yes!  I understand,” said the colonel.  “Leave us, Mr. Smallfield; I wish to speak to Sergeant Hyde alone.”

“You have my secret, Colonel Blythe,” said Hyde, when the adjutant had left the room, “but I have your promise.”

“I was near forgetting it, I confess; but I was so upset, so put out, at your cursed obstinacy.  Why will you persist in keeping in the background?  Accept this promotion, and you shall have a commission before the year is out.”

“I do not want a commission; I am perfectly happy as I am.”

“Was there ever such a pig-headed fellow?  Come, Hyde, be persuaded.”  The colonel got up from his seat and walked round to where the sergeant stood, still erect and motionless.  “Come, Rupert, old comrade, old friend,” and he put his hand affectionately on the sergeant’s shoulder.

The muscles of the sergeant’s face worked visibly.

“It’s no use, Blythe; I am dead to the world.  I have no desire to rise.”