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THE REAL SOLDIER
'YOUR FATE BE UPON YOUR OWN HEAD'
your fate be upon your own head." And he strode out of the hall gnashing and grinding his teeth in the most terrible manner, only stopping to pick up the sandwich which he had thrown down in his outburst of passion.
'When the door had slammed to with terrific force behind him there was a great silence in the hall, and we all looked at one another with scared faces. Soon every one arose from the table, and silently left the banqueting-hall to prepare for the fight which we now knew would come on the morrow.
'Try as I would, I could not sleep for thinking of
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