adored Carmelita was insulted and assaulted.… What had he done? This meant death or penal servitude from the General Court Martial at Oran. He had lost her in the moment of winning her, and he dropped his hands as the Sergeant flew at him with the sword-bayonet poised to strike. No—he would fight.… He would make his get-away.… He would skin out and Carmelita should join him.… He would fight… Too late! … The bayonet was at his throat.… Crash! … Good old Johnny! … That had been a near call. As the maddened Legros was in the act to thrust, Legionary John Bull had struck him on the side of the head with all his strength, sending him staggering, and had leapt upon him to secure the bayonet as they went crashing to the ground. As they struggled, Legionary Rupert set his foot heavily on the Sergeant's wrist and wrenched the bayonet from his hand.
The problem of Sir Montague Merline's future was settled and the hour for Reginald Rupert's desertion had struck.
An ominous growl had rumbled round the room at the brutal words and action of the detested Legros, and an audible gasp of consternation had followed the Bucking Bronco's blow. Sacré Dieu! Here were doings of which ignorance would be bliss—and there was a rush to the door, headed by Messieurs Malvin, Borges, Hirsch and Bauer.
Several Legionaries, as though rooted to the spot by a fearful fascination, or by the hope of seeing Legros share the fate of Rivoli, had stood their ground until John Bull struck him and Rupert snatched the bayonet as though to kill him. Then, with two excep-
