"Perhaps. One hesitates to accuse the boy of anything more than thoughtlessness."
"If he wished to serve his country," began John, warmly.
Warde smiled. "Yes, yes," he assented. "Let us believe that, John; but there has been too much cheap excitement."
Dark days followed. Who will ever forget Stormberg and Magersfontein? A pall seemed to hang over the kingdom. Ladysmith remained in the grip of the invader; the Boers were not yet driven out of Natal. Meantime Cæsar had reached Sir Redvers Buller. A letter to his father, describing the few incidents of the voyage out, and his arrival in South Africa, was sent on to John and received by him on the 1st of February. "John will understand," said Cæsar, in a postscript, "that I have little time for writing." But John did not understand. He wrote regularly to Desmond; no answer came in return.
At the end of the Christmas holidays John returned to Harrow. He was now Head of his House, and very nearly Head of the School. The weeks went by slowly. Soon, he and a few others would travel to Oxford for their examination; there would be the strenuous excitement of competition, and the final announcement of success or failure. To all this John told himself that he was lukewarm. Nothing seemed to matter since he had lost sight of Cæsar's face, since the train whirled his friend out of his life. But he worked hard, so hard that the Head Master bade him beware of a breakdown.
The hour of triumph came. John had gratified his own and Warde's ambition; he was a Scholar of Christ Church. And this well-earned success seemed to draw something in his heart. The congratulations, the warm hand-clasps, the generous joy of schoolfellows not as fortunate, restored his moral circulation. A whole holiday was granted in honour of his success at Oxford. He told himself that now he would take things easy and enjoy himself. The clouds in South Africa were lifting, everybody said the glorious end was in sight. And so far Desmond had escaped wounds and sickness. He had received a commission in Beauregard's Irregular Horse; in the five days' action about Spion Kop he behaved with conspicuous gallantry. Scaife, having obtained his billet of Galloper, was with a General under Lord Methuen.
On the last Monday but one in the term, John was entering the Manor just before lock-up, when a Sixth Form boy from another house passed him, running.
"Have you heard about poor Scaife?" he called out.