"Very well," said the lieutenant. "Get back to your company now—or all that's left of it"; and as the two rascals hurried away he looked from Bob to Dennis, and said, with a laugh of immense relief in the words of Galileo of old, "All right, you beggars, 'but it moves for all that!'"
CHAPTER XXII
The Row in the Restaurant
"Stand down, Reedshires! File off by your right!" And the shattered remnant of that fine battalion groped its way along a broken communication trench to the rear, as a fresh battalion from the reserves took over the trench they had won at such terrible cost.
They carried Bob Dashwood with them, and Dennis stumbled along like one in a dream; back past the shell-torn wood, through the village, or rather, the village heaps, and so to the rear, where they were to go into billets until the drafts should bring them up to fighting strength again.
It was a toilsome march, and the little band seemed strangely insignificant as it passed other eager battalions hurrying up into the firing line, all eleven hundred strong, some even more.
One of these came swinging by, singing a lusty chorus: "We're here—because we're here—because we're here—because we're here!" etc., and a voice called out, "What cheer, mateys—who are you?"