He had become acquainted with him many years before upon the prairies of America, near the Rocky Mountains.

The Baron had rescued him from Indians, by whom he had been entrapped, and the two friends had wandered far over those regions, enduring perils, fighting enemies, and roughing it in general.

This rough life had made each one's better nature visible to the other, and had led to the formation of a friendship full of mutual appreciation of the other's best qualities.

Now it is just possible that if they had not known one another, Hawbury might have thought the Baron a boor, and the Baron might have called Hawbury a "thundering snob;" but as it was, the possible boor and the possible snob each thought the other one of the finest fellows in the world.
"But you're not a Roman Catholic," said Hawbury, as the Baron explained his position among the Zouaves.
"What's the odds?
All's fish that comes to their net.

To get an office in the Church may require a profession of faith, but we're not so particular in the army.