“Now, Pete,” growled Smithers, for the first notes of the bugle-call rang out.
“All right. Give us my rifle, comrade. I’m off.” Catching the rifle from the mahout’s hand, he followed Smithers at the double; but he contrived to give one glance back at the magnificent beast upon which he had been mounted, with a strange feeling of longing for his lost seat.
Chapter Eleven.
Full Review Order.
“Ah, there you are, Knowle!” cried the Resident, bustling up to the Major, who was marching slowly towards the parade-ground in full uniform, carrying his sword under the left arm.
“Yes, here I am. Look all right?”
“Oh yes, yes,” said the Resident impatiently.
“Don’t show any spots, do I?”