"Something—er—touched me I think Zeb!"
"Touched you, sir! Zounds, here's but you and me, your honour!"
"Strange!" mused the Major, rubbing his chin, "very strange, Zeb, I must ha' dreamed it, though I distinctly felt——" He leaned forward suddenly and picked up from the desk before him a half-opened moss rosebud. With this in his fingers he turned towards the open casement behind the Sergeant's chair and beheld a face, all roguish witchery and laughter, and two white hands held out to him.
"Help me in, John—help me in!" she commanded. In an instant the Major was across the room, had clasped those slender hands and my lady, mounting the low sill, stood a moment framed in the heavy moulding of the long window, a very picture of vigorous young womanhood; then leaping lightly down with flashing vision of dainty feet and ankles, she crossed to where the Sergeant stood, very erect and upright, and setting her two hands upon his broad shoulders, smiled up at him radiant-eyed.
"Sergeant Zebedee," said she, "dear Sergeant Zebedee you must be vastly strong to have carried my brother so far. Stoop down!"
Wondering, the Sergeant obeyed and immediately felt the pressure of two warm, soft lips on his smooth-shaven cheek; whereupon he flushed, blinked and stood at attention. "Did you like it, Sergeant?" she enquired.
"My lady, all I can say is—mam I—I did, your ladyship."
"Then stoop again, Sergeant!" With an apologetic glance towards the Major he obeyed and my lady kissed his other cheek. Then she turned and looked at the Major with glistening eyes. "O!" she cried, "I am come overflowing with gratitude to you all for my dear brother's sake. I owe you his life—but for you he—he would be——" Her deep bosom swelled and she bowed her head. "Charles is very—very dear to me and—you saved him to me. O pray, John, may I see Mrs. Agatha?"
Here, at a sign from the Major, Sergeant Zebedee strode from the room shutting the door carefully behind him: and as it closed they were in each other's arms.
"Jack!" she murmured. "My noble John!"