In the instant hush which followed, I observed irrelevantly that our brief feasting had made a horrid mess of what not half an hour before had seemed food for the gods!
Then the Colonel looked up with a grim conscious smile which fitted ill with the fragrant lantern-lit garden behind him.
"The route has come, gentlemen, we start to-morrow at noon."
He checked a quick start to their feet on the part of some of the youngsters by addressing himself to me:
"But as everything has been cut and dry for some days we needn't spoil sport yet awhile. There's time for a dance or two."
"In that case I'll go on," I replied, "and with greater will than ever."
Somehow it never struck me what was likely to happen, seeing that young Bertram was junior subaltern and in addition the pride of his fellows, until I heard the calls for "our speaker" to return thanks. He had been sitting, of course, next to the Paris frock, and beside him had been the Adjutant, looking, I had noticed, as if he thought he ought to be in young Bertram's place. I wish to God he had been.
They both rose at the same moment; the Adjutant to work, no doubt--for, pushing his chair back, he left the table; young Bertram to his task of responding.
I saw at once that he knew his fate. I think he had that instant been told of it by the Adjutant: and perhaps in a way it was wiser and kinder to tell him before--so to speak--he gave himself away.
He stood for an appreciable time as if dazed, then pulling himself together, spoke steadily, if a trifle artificially.