to accept and wear the Iron Cross. A similar decision had already been conveyed to me privately by Lord Granville's private secretary as regarded the Legion of Honour; and, of course, equally applied to the Bavarian Order of St Michael. There were others in the same position as myself, and on August 12 Mr Eastwick, M.P., raised the question in the House of Commons on the motion that the House go into Committee of Supply, and moved that the orders be so revised as to admit of British subjects accepting and wearing foreign decorations given as rewards for services rendered to the sick and wounded in the field during war under the Convention of Geneva, when such services have been performed with the permission of H.M. Government. Lord Enfield, Under Secretary of Foreign Affairs, opposed the motion, which was supported by Sir John Pakington, Colonel Anson, and others. On the division Mr Eastwick's amendment was carried by a majority of one; but before the amendment could be put as a substantive motion, Mr Gladstone interposed, and said he must take the sense of the House again, as he objected to a representation being made to the Crown on an isolated point of the Regulations: and on the amendment being put as an original motion, it was defeated by a majority of eleven, five of those who had voted in its favour turning round and voting the other way, and two abstaining. At a following sitting Mr Gladstone undertook that the Foreign Secretary should look carefully into the matter and see whether the rules could be modified to the public advantage. But of course nothing was ever done, and permission was never given me to accept or wear the orders. our Long before this debate I had received, through Ambassador to Germany, the Bavarian Order of St Michael; within a fortnight of the debate I received the Iron Cross, with a document from Prince Pless direct from the German Military attaché in London; and on September 25, I received the Cross of an Officer of the Legion of Honour and the Brevet direct from the Grand Chancelier of the Order. It was not till eight years later that I received from the German Ambassador in London the Diploma of the Iron Cross signed by the Emperor William. I was not to be allowed to wear the decorations. I felt it rather keenly at the time, for I knew I had done really good service in a national capacity in aid of the Powers who wished to show their gratitude to my country. But as I grew older all feeling of rancour died out, and the decorations, together with the bronze cross of the French Société de Secours, and the cross of an Honorary Associate of our own Order of St John, made up rather a pretty little case to balance the case of French orders purchased on the field of Gravelotte. (To be continued.) CUVÉE RESERVÉE; OR, THE WIDOW'S CRUSE. BY "OLE LUK-OIE." "And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape THE sentry leaned over the bridge and hissed between his teeth. A man standing underneath, attired in nothing but a grey shirt, looked up. "Jest tell the corporal of the guard to come up here a minute, will you?" "Carn't you do it? Me feet are bare, old son," was the pro test. "No; I don't want to whistle, and I've got me eye on something." The semi-nude one picked his way grumbling along the rock, among scraps of iron and stones, and disappeared behind the nearest pier. The sentry shaded his eyes with his bandaged hand and again stood at gaze, looking steadily towards the south. The day was brilliant with true South African brilliancy, and the scene was one of cheerfulness almost amounting to gaiety. From the soft blue of the sky and the deeper blue and violet of the fantastically shaped hills all round-which looked as if they had been cut out of tin, so well defined were their edges in the clear atmosphere-right across the intervening stretch of yellow veldt and green bush to the river, was one giant pattern of subVOL. CLXXXV.-NO. MCXIX. -The Rubaiyat. now dued colour. The air had been cleared by the slight local shower which had fallen during the night, and heavy storms towards Basutoland had swollen the spruit and converted the chain of almost stagnant pools of the day before into the eightfoot torrent which was flowing-as befitted a tributary of the mighty Orange-red and turgid. At the point where the bridge crossed it, the stream curved in a horseshoe bend to the south. On the south bank, on the outside of the curve, the flood had reached the soil and was fretting it away in great lumps, which fell periodically and with sudden splash; on the other side, the water lapped over the slope of sheet rock, picking up pieces of paper, straw, and the thousand and one oddments of a camp and workshop, which danced about merrily till they were drawn into the current and whisked down - stream. In the shade underneath the undamaged part of the bridge, where the rock was still uncovered, débris of wood - shavings and scrapiron showed what had been the carpenter's and smith's shops during the reconstruction. At these spots the word "TIMMERWINKEL" and "SMEDERIJ" had D been painted in foot - high letters on the smooth rock by some wag of the erstwhile workers possessed of a knowledge of the official language across the border. On the pier itself, where there was no trace of bar or even liquor store, the words "GOED KOOP WINKEL -WHO SAYS A COOLER?" in emerald green, bore witness that the artist possessed the gentle gift of satire as well as that of tongues. The detachment, the tents of whose camp could be seen close by on the north, was placed at this spot in order to guard a recently repaired railway bridge not far from the border of Cape Colony; but beyond the stacked rifles underneath and the armed sentry on top there were no conspicuous signs of war. The little force, including officers,-all, in fact, except the guard,-were taking advantage of the Godsent water. It was an opportunity not to be missed. Some, like boys, were wallowing about in the flood with merry din and splashing; others were squatting at the water's edge, busy beating out their "grey-back shirts on the stones. The sentry stood on top of the end girder, where the old bridge ended and the trestles began. It was the highest point above the veldt for some three miles, and had the disadvantage of conspicuousness; but this was not of much importance, for the bridge itself was visible above the surrounding bushes for many hundreds of yards. It needed no figure in khaki standing on top to announce the presence of a British force. Brightly as the whole scene was coloured, its brilliance seemed to culminate at the sentry. Near his feet the dull chocolate hue of the ironwork was relieved by the gaudy colour of a freshly rivetted patch, which glistened in its recent coat of red-lead. Across this his shadow fell-a purple bar. There was nothing brilliant about the faded khaki of the uniform or the tanned face; but the blue of the sky was outrivalled by that of the bandage on his left hand. Many a squalid scene in South Africa indeed owed its only relief-in an artistic sense-to the universal veldt - sore and its alembroth-gauze dressing. Yes, the sentry was the centre of the colour scheme; but he was not the centre of interest,to himself at least, for he continued to peer towards the south with a perturbed expression. Very soon another soldier hurried across the bridge, each step ringing out on the iron slats of the narrow four-foot way. Climbing up alongside the watcher, and incautiously placing his hands on the halfdried paint, he arrived at the top with smeared uniform and vermilion palms, and around him the atmosphere of gaiety and peace was instantaneously dissipated! He finally concluded by addressing the sentry 66 'Well, what is it now? Some more blarsted ostriches? "No," replied the soldier,who seemed sensitive on the point,-in a ruffled tone, "it ain't. It's mounted men and waggons or guns. See that flat kopje? Well, under the hump at the end, jest to the left of the-one-twothree-fourth telegraph post." "By gum! Y're right, it ain't birds this time. That's a big cloud of dust. There's a crowd of men under that, I lay." There was indeed at the point indicated a thick column of yellow dust which gleamed in the sunlight: the rain of the night before had been slight. At this range the watchers could not know that, caught under the last waggon of the approaching force, where the escort did not notice it, was a dead bush. Nothing better calculated to exaggerate the size of a force seen from afar than this improvised broom could have been devised. At a distance the result might have made a brigadier pause and think. It must be explained that these events occurred at a kaleidoscopic period of the war when no post knew what to expect. At one hour a solitary rider or a convoy of remounts, practically without escort, might appear; the next it might be a prowling commando. The detachment at the river was one of the "Thaba Nchu Thrusters," an irregular unit in which things were done first and reported— or not-afterwards. Very, very rarely did matters take the officially proper channel, usually a tortuous one, badly buoyed and lighted even for the regular. In this case the corporal did not call a sergeant for his opinion, and no sergeant, after inspection, called upon an officer for his. The N.C.O. on the spot was satisfied that a large force was approaching, arms and the men were close at hand, and the captain had only recently lectured them on the importance of accepting responsibility and not taking chances. It was enough. "Let her go, Gallagher!" he muttered, and, placing his first and little finger between his lips, he gave a "butcher's whistle" three times. The effect was electrical. Within a minute Michael Angelo's celebrated cartoon of soldiers surprised while bathing was reproduced with "Upto-date Effects." There was a shouting, splashing, and scurry, a hasty scramble for shirts, boots, and bandoliers, then a mob of men, some nude, many bootless, but all armed, ran to their various alarm posts. All knew their positions, and within three minutes there was hardly a man visible except those on the bridge. The commandant and the second-in-command, the latter with a lathered chin, rushed coatless from a tent and joined the little group on the top of the bridge-now swollen to three by the addition of a corpulent sergeant. With the precipitancy of youth-they were subalterns the officers scrambled up quickly. It was not until they had both placed their hands well on to the redlead patch that the sergeant turned round and thoughtfully remarked "Beg pardon, sir- that's wet paint there.' Once again there was some little unpleasantness on that girder-top. When things had quieted down a bit, it was, according to the custom of the service, the sergeant and not the corporal, nor of course the private, who proceeded to explain the cause of alarm. Unfortunately for formality, besides having begun badly, the sergeant had not himself had time to discover exactly where the danger lay. Thus, vagueness in facts was added to nervousness in demeanour. Throwing routine overboard, the commandant one Lieutenant Wolfe-cut him short and asked generally— "Come, come. Who's seen what and where?" Like one man corporal and sentry started off to elucidate the situation; but the former's tone caused the private to drop out of the race and leave the last word with his senior. Glasses were brought to bear on the dust-cloud, now strangely shrunk in size. "Umph!" said Wolfe after a steady stare. "That's only a waggon or two, and I never saw burghers, even a commando, come along a track with all that song and dance." "No more Boers than we are," curtly echoed the secondin-command, Lieutenant John Orle, as he put down his glasses. Being called out for nothing in the middle of a shave does not lead to unnecessary suavity. Without more ado Wolfe pulled out a whistle and blew loudly. Like so many meer kats half a hundred men popped up in all directions and turned towards the bridge. Carry on," he shouted, waving his arm; and the garrison left their lairs, and, with many scowls at the sentry, proceeded back to pile arms. The commandant turned to the man who had caused the trouble "What the deuce d'you mean, Corporal Dockery? I don't call that much dust." "Well, sir, the captain said we were to take no chances, an' me an' Riley here thought it was a large body. There don't seem to be so much dust now, but two minutes ago there was quite a lot. Riley saw it as well as me." There was now more hesitation in coming forward on the corporal's part than there had been. appeared to rely somewhat on the junior for corroboration. He "Yes," replied that luckless man eagerly, thus drawing fire on himself, "it ain't nothing now to what it was." "Oh rats!" was the unsympathetic reply. "You were not born yesterday, and you know as well as I do that Boers don't show themselves like that. You won't be popular if you play this game often, and I daresay we'll be having some men touched up by the sun after this damfool business," and the speaker looked wrathfully at his hands as if for signs of the disease. The sergeant and corporal had both gradually edged away into the background during this speech, and, for whomsoever the reproof was intended, it was the sentry who got it. |