"Humphries! Humphries, man!" cried the Corporal.
The Marquis opened his tired eyes, heavily, smiling.
"Got me—some way. Sorry—Corp'l!" he whispered, his voice trailing away.
"Marquis!" said Corporal Savage. The little man had a tiger's heart but his face was twitching.
The grey-green pallor of death was on the Marquis' face.
"It was dead—or alive—dead—or—Corp! Tell the Chief—tell him—I—I——"
The Corporal understood.
"I'll tell him, old scout!"
The Marquis smiled again; and then again came silence and the rough crowd took off their hats....
Constable Humphries—the Hon. Charles Percival Humphries Hardisty—heart-smasher, poet, waster, gallant gentleman—had kept his compact.