"
The man shook his head, and without answering went on unpacking his
master's portmanteau. They were at the Hummums Hotel, in Covent
Garden, and had arrived half an hour before by the evening train,
having come overland from Marseilles.
Two years' soldiering had greatly altered George Lechmere. He had
lost the heavy step caused by tramping over ploughed fields, and
was a well set-up, alert and smart-looking soldier; and although
now in civilian clothes--for his master had bought him out of the
service when he sent in his own papers--no one could avoid seeing
that he had served, for in addition to the military carriage there
was the evidence of two deep scars on his face, the handiwork of
the mutineers' sabres on the day when he had stood over his master
surrounded by rebel horse. His complexion was deeply bronzed by the
sun, and there was that steady but watchful expression in his eyes
that is characteristic of men who have gone through long and
dangerous service.
"I shall stay two or three days in town," Major Mallett said. "I
must get an entire refit before I go down. You had better come
round with me to the tailor's tomorrow, the first thing after
breakfast.
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