“Ah,” said McMahon, “it’s been an expensive afternoon for me; but I don’t grudge it. Those poor fellows wanted a smoke and a rest badly. Besides, I’ve had a very pleasant time, pleasant and peaceful.”
He strolled round to the far side of the tree and took a look at the men who lay stretched out. One of the officers, a boy of untiring energy, complained that he was bored.
“I say, McMahon, can’t I get up and go back to the mess? What’s the good of my lying here all the afternoon?”
“You’ll lie there,” said McMahon severely, “until you get orders to go. And it may be a long time before you do. In fact, you won’t be able to stir till the padre comes, and I haven’t the least idea where he is, I doubt if he’s out with us at all to-day.”
“What the dickens has the padre got to do with it?” said the officer.
“You’ll find that out in time. For the present you’ve nothing to do but lie still.”
“But hang it all—— I say, McMahon, can’t you finish off and let me go?”
“I?” said McMahon. “I’ve finished with you long ago. There’s nothing more for me to do. The next man to take you in hand is the padre.”
The orderly stood at his elbow while he spoke. He seemed a little nervous and agitated.
“Beg pardon, sir,” he said. “The Colonel’s just coming, sir. He and the General. He’s drove up in the General’s car; and I’m afraid they’re both coming here, sir.”