When Helmar got outside he could scarcely refrain from shouting for joy. The very first engagement he had been in, it seemed, he had distinguished himself and received the Colonel's congratulations. It seemed too good to be true. And yet the Colonel had said it himself. "Bah!" he muttered, "I did no more than the others did—yes, but very likely they got praised too."
He anxiously hurried back, wondering what the morrow would bring forth. Evidently luck was coming his way.
CHAPTER XIV
THE REGIMENTAL COOK
The sun had long risen when George awoke from his heavy, dreamless slumber. Tired nature had at last demanded and received her share of the healing balm of sleep. The day had been exciting, and eventful; and though the nervous strain had been great, it was long before his busy brain allowed him to get to sleep. When it did, however, it was hours before his body was sufficiently refreshed to begin the new day.
The sun was pouring down with scorching intensity when he sprang from his blankets; the heat of the atmosphere was like that of an oven, and he flung back the fastenings of the doorway and plunged his head into a bucket of water that stood ready to hand. Thoroughly refreshed and cooled with his dip, he set out in search of breakfast, his thoughts running wild over the events of the preceding day, as he made his way down the lines towards the cook-house.
As he hurried along he was astonished at the number of men who paused in their work to take notice of him. As a matter of fact, he was scarcely known to any one, except the officers with whom he came into contact in his work, and yet he was greeted like an old friend by nearly every one he came across. It was some time before he began to realize that, in some way, the events of yesterday had brought this about.