"True," he said, briefly, running his right hand up and down the sleeve of his left arm "but—"
"And it probably won't be any worse than what we'll have to face to-morrow or next day," said Bennett, as Stewart paused. "He hasn't been sociable and over decent to us, but we'll call on him and wish him luck. Come along, boys!"
The group laughed a little. "All right," they said.
Stewart followed them up to Trevelyan's quarters.
After all, why should he feel it so! It was Trevelyan's one chance to redeem himself with the regiment and turn the tide of popularity in his favor. Fate was not as cruel as she seemed. And Trevelyan bore a charmed life. And he knew Trevelyan could do it. Trevelyan would do it—well! Trevelyan might have failed in the shaping of the details of life this last year, but in the supreme hour—
For Stewart remembered the climb down the turret tower and the mad scaling of the crags in Scotland, and the storm and the white fury of the waters near the American fort, and the desperate swim, and the child who had done these things because of what he would one day do as a man.
The little subaltern banged on Trevelyan's door.
VI.
Trevelyan, still standing over the spot on the floor, raised his eyes and looked vaguely in the direction of the sound. He remained silent.
The little subaltern banged again, and Trevelyan heard the echo of voices.