"Yes," she acknowledged simply, "but he's dead." The lieutenant laid his ungloved hand softly on her shoulder, his blue eyes moist with aroused feeling.
"Never mind, little girl," he said, with boyish sympathy.

"I knew Gillis, and, now the sergeant has spoken, I remember you quite well.
Thought all the time your face was familiar, but could n't quite decide where I had seen you before.

So poor old Gillis has gone, and you are left all alone in the world! Well, he was an old soldier, could not have hoped to live much longer anyway, and would rather go fighting at the end.

We 'll take you back with us to Bethune, and the ladies of the garrison will look after you." The recumbent figure lying a few yards away half lifted itself upon one elbow, and Hampton's face, white and haggard, stared uncertainly across the open space.

For an instant his gaze dwelt upon the crossed sabres shielding the gilded "7" on the front of the lieutenant's scouting hat, then settled upon the face of the girl.