“Have a glass of claret,” I said.
He sat down and poured himself off half a tumbler-full. Then it struck him that he owed me some return for my hospitality.
“My name,” he said, “is Bland. I was with Roberts’ column in the Orange Free State.”
“Ah!” I said. “A war correspondent.”
“I did the Greek War, too,” he said. “A poor affair, very. Looks to me as if you were going to do better here. But it’s a curious situation.”
“Very,” I said, “and most unpleasant.”
“From my point of view,” said Bland, “it’s most interesting. The usual thing is for one army to clear out of a town before the other comes in or else to surrender after a regular siege. But here—”
“I’m afraid,” I said, “that our proceedings are frightfully irregular.”
“None the worse for that,” said Bland kindly. “But they are a bit peculiar. I’ve read up quite a lot of military history and I don’t recollect a single case in which two hostile armies patrolled the streets of the same city without firing a shot at one another. By the way, have you been out?”
“Not since this afternoon,” I said.