Graeme opened them in turn. The first ran:
"Lost half my force and all guns. Enemy's losses enormous; shall hold on here till all is over. Done my best.—Roy."
Hector's face was unmoved as he read. He opened the second:
"General Roy dead. All lost.—Maddox, Captain."
"Just where you're out, my friend," muttered Hector; "it's all won now."
"What does he say, sir?" asked Godwin.
"Nothing much. He's done what I wanted. Michael's had his bellyful."
"Wh—what are those, sir?" came suddenly from Glover, staring towards the west. "They're wearing our uniform, but ... God!"
Together Graeme and Godwin looked towards the spot at which the boy was pointing, and saw far away to the left a scattered band emerging from the trees. A band of fugitives they were, seemingly, some thousand in all, without order or semblance of order. Over their heads shells were bursting, and clouds of dust were flying up around their feet; but, unheeding, they slowly toiled on, till at last they were hidden from view behind the left of the ridge upon which the three stood watching.
"It—it's Roy's force," stammered Godwin, "all that's left of twenty thousand men."