“Oh, Ted’s altogether too modest,” said Paterson. “In reality he’s the actual commander here, and General Barnard takes orders from him.”
“Oh, that’s it, is it?” Dorricot replied. “Well, look here, come to my tent as soon as we’ve settled down. I want to have a talk with you.”
The Sirmur Battalion passed within the lines, and General Barnard himself came out to welcome them.
“Get something to eat sharp!” he exhorted Major Reid. “Sorry you’re dead beat, but we may have to turn out at any moment.”
Luckily this was not necessary, as the expected attack did not come off, and the tired Gurkhas were granted a few hours’ well-earned rest. Soon after they had settled down our two ensigns paid the promised visit to Lieutenant Dorricot, and fought their battles over again, talking and laughing over their several adventures, interrupting, contradicting, and agreeing with one another as they discussed the situation and the causes that had combined to bring it about.
The elder cousin was full of a natural curiosity concerning Jim’s engagement, soon persuading the ensign—and in truth it was no difficult matter—to give his opinion of Miss Woodburn, her accomplishments and attractions.
“Hullo!” interrupted Charlie, as the boy waxed particularly eloquent on the subject. “You’re sure it’s Russell Major who’s in love, and not Russell Minimus.”
Ted blushed, laughed outright, and sought to change the subject; but Charlie was determined to extract further information relating to his cousin’s love affairs—a matter on which he was conventionally facetious.
“So you really think that old Jim’s done well—eh, young Solomon?” Dorricot resumed after a few moments’ reflection.
“I tell you he’s a jolly lucky chap!” declared the ensign emphatically. “Jolly lucky, I should say. You should just have seen her when she whipped her pistol out as soon as that beggar had knifed me in the bazar!”