Darby drove fast along the narrow bumpy roads, drawing a distinct breath of relief when he saw Barty and the hounds demurely still upon a hill and quite a crowd of people waiting.
There was a lack of smartness about the assemblage. Mrs. O'Gorman from the Bank had only half clipped her stout roan. She said that it seemed wrong to turn out a horse just the same as one would in peace times. There were no new habits and half the familiar faces were gone. Mr. Hefferty, the local dealer, who generally had a string out—at least four horses, shaven and tidied and gingered until their tails stood out as banners, and every semblance of a good point was emphasized—now had only one, a light whity grey with big feet, an animal which would have to be dyed if it ever went on active service.
Someone who had seen a paper was immediately surrounded. How was it? What was the news? Good or bad?
These were the days when people hoped that war could not go on, that it would end suddenly and dramatically because it was too huge to endure; when everyone forgot that its very hugeness would keep it going until money and men failed.
Old Captain Moore, who was fiercely anxious to do something, was even explaining to people at what point our troops would enter Berlin. He had been there twice on a Cook's tour, and he meant to go for another directly there was peace. He had even written about his ticket. Mr. O'Gorman was concerned as to the choice of prisons for the Kaiser and personally blamed that excitable Emperor for the feverish price of oats.
"Spoiling even what's left to us over here!" he said. "Hope they'll give him black bread when they shut him up."
A thousand places for victory were discussed and argued over. Everything was hopeful and nothing ominous of defeat or even of check. Antwerp, after all, was only part of unfortunate Belgium, and its fall made the air clearer.
The communiqués were things to be hung over, relied on, and devoured. People believed then that every word from Berlin was an invention.
Then the small field turned its thoughts from war and looked at the hounds.
"Any more adventures, Barty?" Darby asked softly.