When ex-Colonel Dearman heard any reference to this mystery he roared with laughter—­but it was the Last Muster of the fine and far-famed Gungapur Fusiliers, as such.

The Corps was disbanded forthwith and re-formed on a different basis (of quality instead of quantity) with Lieutenant-Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison, promoted, in command—­he having caught the keen eye of that splendid soldier and gentleman Lieutenant-General Sir Arthur Barnet, K.C.V.O., K.C.S.I. (G.O.C., XVIth Division), as being the very man for the job of re-organizing the Corps, and making it worth its capitation-grant.

“If I could get Captain Malet-Marsac as Adjutant and a Sergeant-Major of whom I know (used to be at Duri—­man named Lawrence-Smith) I’d undertake to show you something, Sir, in a year or two,” said Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison.

“Malet-Marsac you can certainly have,” replied Sir Arthur Barnet.  “I’ll speak to your new Brigadier.  If you can find your Lawrence-Smith we’ll see what can be done.” ...

And Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison wrote to Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith of the Duri Volunteer Rifles to know if he would like a transfer upon advantageous terms, and got no reply.

As it happened, Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison, in very different guise, had seen Sergeant Lawrence-Smith extricate and withdraw his officerless company from the tightest of tight places (on the Border) in a manner that moved him to large admiration.  It had been a case of “and even the ranks of Tuscany” on the part of Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Ilderim Dost Mahommed....  Later he had encountered him and Captain Malet-Marsac at Duri.

Sec. 3.  SERGEANT-MAJOR LAWRENCE-SMITH.

Mrs. Pat Dearman was sceptical.

“Do you mean to tell me that you, a man of science, an eminent medical man, and a soldier, believe in the supernatural?”

“Well, you see, I’m ‘Oirish’ and therefore unaccountable,” replied Colonel Jackson (of the Royal Army Medical Corps), fine doctor, fine scholar, and fine gentleman.

“And you believe in haunted houses and ghosts and things, do you? Well!”

The salted-almond dish was empty, and Mrs. Dearman accused her other neighbour, Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison.  Having already prepared to meet and rebut the charge of greediness he made passes over the vessel and it was replenished.

“Supernatural!” said she.

“Most,” said he.

She prudently removed the dish to the far side of her plate—­and Colonel Jackson emptied it.

Not having prepared to meet the request to replenish the store a second time, it was useless for Mr. Ross-Ellison to make more passes when commanded so to do.

“The usual end of the ‘supernatural,’” observed Mrs. Dearman with contempt.

“Most usual,” said he.

“More than ‘most,’” corrected Mrs. Dearman.  “It is the invariable end of it, I believe.  Just humbug and rubbish.  It is either an invention, pure and simple, or else it is perfectly explicable.  Don’t you think so, Colonel Jackson?”