“You seem to be tireless, Campbell,” de Lisle said, when it one day happened that all three were together at headquarters.  “I feel as if I had not a whole bone in my body; as I have not had a whole night in bed for the last six days, I can hardly keep my eyes open, while you, who have been doing as much as we have, are going about as actively as if you had had nothing to do for a week.”

“I have the advantage of riding so much lighter than you do,” Hector said; “weight tells both on horse and rider, and when the horse is tired his pace soon adds to the weariness of his rider.  If we had had to do this work when we first left Paris, I have no doubt that I should have felt it, but the journey here has been a fine preparation.  Another thing is, that every morning I take a dip in the first mountain stream I come to, and that does one almost as much good as a night’s sleep.”

De Lisle shivered.  “It may do good, Campbell, but I would not jump into one of these icy streams for anything.  It makes one shudder to think of it.”

“I always had a swim in the Seine every morning when it was not closed by ice,” Hector said.  “I was told that there was nothing braced one up and made one so hardy as that; and I certainly found that even in the coldest weather I never felt the need of a cloak.”

“Well, I don’t deny that it may be a good custom, and if all Scotchmen do it, it may account for their hardiness; but I like comfort when I can get it.”

“But it is not comfort to be always in the saddle, and to feel so sleepy that you fancy that at any moment you may fall off.  Even if a dip in snow water is, to those unaccustomed to it, somewhat sharp, it is better than having to struggle against sleep for hours.”

“Well, possibly I may try the experiment some day when I feel that I must either lie down by the roadside and sleep or take a dip, but until I feel like breaking down altogether I shall postpone the experiment.”

Turenne several times spoke approvingly to Hector.  On one occasion, when the lad presented himself on being told that an aide-de-camp was required to carry a message, Turenne said to him:  “But it is not your turn, Campbell; de Lisle and Chavigny both returned some hours ago, while it is not an hour since you came in.”

“They are both asleep, general,” Campbell said; “they have been thirty-six hours in the saddle.”

“But you have been more than that, Campbell?”

“But I do not feel it, sir,” he said.  “I am perfectly fresh and ready to go on.  I was a little tired when I came in, but I have taken a swim in the river, and am now at your service.”

Turenne hesitated.  “You see, sir,” Hector went on, “being of light weight the horse does not feel it as he does that of a heavier man, his pace continues light and elastic, and his spirit good, and that makes all the difference to the fatigue of his rider.  After two days’ rest my horses are perfectly ready for another long day’s work, while those of Chavigny and de Lisle start heavily, not having recovered from their fatigue.”