The horses were pulling at the grass, or roving about with a quick, sharp clank of the hobbles, the man on duty gliding ghostlike among them, speaking to one or another lest they should fear him in the silence. All seemed well with the tired beasts, so the "picket" strolled back to the dying fire, drank a little tea, lit his pipe, and stood thinking. His body seemed gigantic against the light, his face borrowed something of satanic dignity from the glare, the light glimmered upon the points of his harness, while he kicked lazily the backs of smouldering logs till the flames leaped up again. Poor Blackguard! His thoughts were bitter that night; memories of the innocent-seeming child he had grown to love, and still trusted lovingly, until under the girl's frank laugh he had seen the woman's flirting. She was a woman—playing fast and loose—Miss Violet the Vixen, irresponsible. The Blackguard's heart was too great for her understanding, a wonderful spirit of passionate tenderness, compassionate forgiveness, and large tolerance. The surface of him was all humour and quaint devilry, the depth of him hid much love and curious wisdom. She had tried to play with him the game of cat and mouse; so, smiling inly at her mistake, he had gone away, sending no word or giving any sign. When the cat wanted her mouse again, when she longed for him and could not do without him, she would send him a sign. If not—the Blackguard sighed over his pipe.
Perhaps he had been good through these summer months to no purpose; a lot of genuine religion had very likely, it seemed, been wasted, desperate efforts after wealth and respectability all thrown away. In that case, a couple of weeks hence, when his five years expired, he would spend the money he had made and saved in giving the "boys" a lively night or two, then re-enlist and be as bad as he pleased. But yet, if she would send a sign.
He looked up, hearing the crackle of a twig.
"Halt—who goes there?" he cried.
"All right!" came a shaky voice out of the darkness.
"Advance, and be recognised!"
"Eh?"
"Advance, or I fire!"
"Oh, give us a rest."
These were the war challenges, and the Blackguard had only used them to scare an evident stranger who did not know enough to say "Friend."