“Well, so said, so done. You know that old elm in the beech-wood? I dug a grave at the foot of it, and managed to kick and roll the affair into the grave, then I took up my Kit, carried her home, and by the time I pegged out the letter to Bob, I saw day breakin'. So I made paces for Beccles, knocked up old Harris, and gave him the letter for Bob. By eight o'clock I was arrested—”
At this point the 5.15 recall-bell rang out, and there was falling into line.
The next time that they had speech together, Hogarth said: “And were you such a clown, Fred Bates, as to imperil your life for a paltry thousand pounds?”
“Paltry thousand pounds?” answered Bates, surprised: “Hark at this! Didn't I peril my life ten times more in Egypt for a bob a day? I tell you I was certain in my own mind of getting out in a few weeks!”
“Well, what happened to prevent you?”
“Only this: Bob died on the troop-ship coming home; that's all”.
“But you could write old Harris to open your letter to Bob, and act on it, or else hand it over to your father”.
“My word, but haven't I wrote? Old 'Arris is either dead and buried, or gorn away, or somethin'. I've waited a year and nine months—good God! and no answer yet”.
“Poor Fred! I could weep blood for you. Believe in God!”
“More Devil than God about Colmoor, it strikes me”.