Fergus Hume

The Red Window Fergus Hume

"Hullo, Gore!" The young soldier stopped, started, colored with annoyance, and with a surprised expression turned to look on the other soldier who had addressed him. After a moment's scrutiny of the stranger's genial smile he extended his hand with pleased recognition. "Conniston," said he, "I thought you were in America." "So I am; so don't call me Conniston at the pitch of your voice, old boy. His lordship of that name is camping on Californian slopes for a big game shoot. The warrior who stands before you is Dick West of the -- Lancers, the old Come-to-the-Fronts. And what are you doing as an Imperial Yeoman, Gore?" "Not that name," said the other, with an anxious glance around. "Like yourself, I don't want to be known." "Oh! So you are sailing under false colors also?" "Against my will, Conniston-I mean West. I am Corporal Bernard." "Hum!" said Lord Conniston, with an approving nod. "You have kept your Christian name, I see." "It is all that remains of my old life," replied Gore, bitterly. "But your title, Conniston?" "Has disappeared," said the lancer, good-humoredly, "until I can make enough money to gild it." "Do you hope to do that on a private's pay?" West shrugged his shoulders. "I hope to fight my way during the war to a general's rank. With that and a V. C., an old castle and an older title, I may catch a dollar heiress by the time the Boers give in."