When the grade of sous-officier gave him authority over
them, they obeyed him implicitly because they knew that his sympathies
were with them at all times, and that he would be the last to check
their gayety, or to punish their harmless indiscretions.
The warlike Roumis had always had a proud tenderness for their
"Bel-a-faire-peur," and a certain wondering respect for him; but they
would not have adored him to a man, as they did, unless they had known
that they might laugh without restraint before him, and confide any
dilemma to him--sure of aid, if aid were in his power.
The laughter, the work, and the clatter of conflicting tongues were at
their height; Cecil sat, now listening, now losing himself in thought,
while he gave the last touch to the carvings before him. They were a set
of chessmen which it had taken him years to find materials for and to
perfect; the white men were in ivory, the black in walnut, and were two
opposing squadrons of French troops and of mounted Arabs. Beautifully
carved, with every detail of costume rigid to truth, they were his
masterpiece, though they had only been taken up at any odd ten minutes
that had happened to be unoccupied during the last three or four years.
The chessmen had been about with him in so many places and under canvas
so long, from the time that he chipped out their first Zouave pawn, as
he lay in the broiling heat of Oran prostrate by a dry brook's stony
channel, that he scarcely cared to part with them, and had refused
to let Rake offer them for sale, with all the rest of the carvings.
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