The Carlisle independent., 1915-07-22
CHAPTER Vl-Continued.

Pitehoune, whose eyes had followed the cat out of sight. sprang upon his master and seemed quite ready for the new departure.
 T shall at least have you" Sabron said. Tt will be your first campaign. We shall have some famous runs and l shall introduce you to a camel and make you acquainted with several donkeys, not to speak of the historic Arab steeds. You will see. my friend. that there are other animals besides yourself in creation"
 A telegram for mon capitaine.' Brunei came in with the blue envelope which Sabron tore open.
 You will take with you neither horses nor dogs.
 It was an order from the minister of war, just such a one as was sent to some halfdozen other young officers. all of whom, no doubt, felt more or less discomfited
 Sabron twisted the telegram. put it in the fireplace and lighted his ciga- rette with it. watching Pitchoune who, finding himself a comfortable corner in the armchair. had settled down for a nap
 So" nodded the young man aloud. T shall not even have Pitchoune"
 He smoked, musing Tn the rigid dis cipline of his soldiers life he was used to obedience. His softened eyes, how ever, and his nervous fingers as they pulled at his mustache, showed that the command had touched him.
 What shall I do with you, old fel- low?"
 Although Sabron's voice was low, the dog, whose head was down upon his paws, turned his bright brown eyes on his master with so much con- fdence and affection that it completed the work. Sabron walked across the floor, smoking, the spurs on his heels clanking, the light shining on his bril- liant boots and on his uniform. He was splendid-lookiRg man with race and breeding, and he combined with his masculine force the gentleness of a woman
 
 thought All that the chiefs consider is the soldier-not the man-even the companionship of my dog is denied me What do they think I am going to do out there in the long eastern evenings" He reflected. What does the world expect an uneompanfoned wanderer to do?" There are many 1Fd d. them. the better
 A letter for Monsieur le Capitaine" Brunei returned with a note which he presented stifly, and Pftchoune, who chose in his little brain to imagine Brunei an intruder, sprang from the chair like lightning. rushed at the servant, seized the leg of his panta- looms and began to worry them, growl- ing, Brunei regarding him with adnra- tion. Sabron had not thought aloud the last words of the telegram, which he had used to light his cigarette.
 Nor will 1t be necessary to take a personal servant The indigenes are capable performances.
 As he took the letter from Brunet's salver he said eurtly:
 T am ordered to Algiers and l shall not take horses nor Pitchoune"
 The dog, at mention of his name, set Brunet's leg free and stood quiet, his head lifted.
 Nor you either, mon brave Bru- net" Sabron put his hand on his servants shoulder, the first familiarity he had ever shown a man who served him with devotion, and who would have given his life to save his mas ter's. Those" said the officer curtly, are the orders from headquarters, and the least said about them the better"
 The ruddy cheek of the servant turned pale. He mechanically touched his forehead
 "Bien, mon Capitaine," he mur- roured, with little catch in his voice. He stood at attention, then wheeled and without being dismissed, stalked out of the room.
 Pitchoune did not follow. He re- mained immoyable like little dog cut from bronze; he understood-wh shall say-how much of the converse, tion? Sabron threw away his ciga- rette, then read his letter by the man. tlepiece, leaning his arm upon it. He read slowly. He had broken the seal slowly. It was the first letter he had ever seen in this handwriting. It was written in French and ran thus:
 N 1r+ 1rfgh fo efr you if you will come to us for a little musicale tomorrow afternoon. We hope you will be free, and I hope. she added, that you will bring Pitchoune. Not that