"Yes, sir," replied a muffled voice—"very nearly."
"In that case," I continued, with great heartiness, "we can get away almost immediately. I am expecting our relief here in five minutes."
I babbled on a little longer, to give him time to recover. Presently he turned upon me, and spoke. His face was flushed—absurdly like his mother's when something had roused her chivalrous indignation.
"Uncle Alan, it's a rotten shame! I had a wonderful scheme all mapped out! It was in Orders, too! We had marked down all sorts of cushy spots for sniping Boche machine guns from. I had an aeroplane map of our sector, with Thiepval, and Beaumont Hamel, and everything! Now, my poor chaps are all sent back to their companies, where they will be treated like dirt; and—I am given a job as assistant office boy!"
It is impossible to furnish adequate comfort to a man who has been deprived unexpectedly of his first independent command. I merely patted Roy's shoulder, and said gruffly—
"Discipline, Discipline, Discipline, lad! That's the only thing that matters!"
Roy sat up at once. He was a soldier, through and through.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said. "I am afraid I was mixing up Major Laing with Uncle Alan! That wasn't the game, was it? My error! It shan't occur again." He smiled resolutely. "I think everything is in order now. Shall I hand these files over to the Orderly-room sergeant?"
"Righto!" I said. "Was that a despatch rider I saw at the door just now?"
"Yes—from Brigade Headquarters. He left two messages."