The call had been answered, and these silent forms of England's sons were speeding through the night in the direction of danger, at the bidding of a nation in peril.
My cigarette was finished, and I was becoming sleepy. I turned over to settle myself comfortably, and turning my eyes in the direction of the companionway, I saw the tubby figure of an officer standing near the rail, immaculately dressed, and in strange contrast to his surroundings.
It was Septimus D'Arcy, immaculate and indifferent. Septimus was at war; but Septimus was still in Bond Street.
CHAPTER V[ToC]
GOING UP THE LINE
PERFIDIOUS GANG-PLANKS. D'ARCY STRANDED. GUIDES WHO CANNOT GUIDE. A HEATED ARGUMENT
Next morning we were disturbed early, and rolled up our kits ready for disembarkation.