"... grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore—
* * * * *
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
He then slithered down again, and stood once more on the floor.
"I'm sorry, sir, if I look a bit down," answered Godwin, forcing a smile, "but I've just been round those divisions, and it's been rather a depressing experience. Honestly, sir, I believe that once the retreat begins half of them will be off, and if the enemy have good cavalry they'll cut them down like sheep."
"So much the better, teach them not to run in the future; there's nothing like practical experience. But see here, take this and read," throwing over his recent work as he spoke, "look sharp, those fellows will be here in a minute."
Godwin took the papers, and read as directed. Half-way through the first page he stopped, and glanced up at the other, with a startled look.
"It's not to be retreat, then?"
"It is not, Old Un; attack I will and must, till the sawdust's out of me. But look here, those Napoleons are beginning to arrive. This will explain quicker." He walked over to the blackboard, uncovered it, and stood watching Godwin's face as he looked. "Got it, Old Un, I see," he said, after a pause.
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, take those papers with you and read them later; you will find it all fully laid down there, numbers and everything. Your job will be to get the main army in position by three a.m. to-morrow morning. There are only three roads, so, to avoid jostling, some of the divisions will have to move across country. You had better have compass-bearings taken at once."
"And about Roy and Fellowes, sir?"