The door opened and Major Murgatroyd, second in command of the famous
Blankshires, came in.
"Come in," said Colonel Blowhard.
The Major saluted impressively, and the Colonel rose and returned his salute with the politeness typical of the British Army.
"You wished to see me, Colonel?"
"I did, Major." They saluted each other again. "A secret document of enormous importance," went on the Colonel, "has just reached me from the War Office. It concerns the Regiment, the dear old Regiment." Both men saluted, and the Colonel went on hoarsely, "Were the news in this document to become public property before its time, nothing could avert the defeat of England in the present world-wide cataclysm."
"Is it as important as that, Colonel?" said the Major, even more hoarsely if anything.
"It is, Major."
The Major's voice sank to a whisper.
"What would not Hindenburg give to see it," he muttered.
"Ay," said the Colonel. "I say that to myself day and night: 'What not what—what would what—' Well, I say it to myself day and night. For this reason, Major, I have decided to entrust the news to no one but yourself. Our Officers are good lads and a credit to the dear old Regiment"—they saluted as before—"but in a matter of this sort one cannot be too discreet."