Cassell's Magazine, vol. 53, no. 1

Marie

I lifted the pistol, and the bullet that had been meant for Marie’s brain scattered that of the first of them

'But,' I added slowly, 'if you like, when I am a bit stronger I’ll shoot you a match for her'

'Are you the little Allan Quatermain who is coming to learn French with me?' she asked in Dutch

On up the slope they came in long, wavering lines

So we gave over love-making and turned our attention to war