"Will you tell off the dam battalion, Sir?" shouted the Colonel at the enrapt supplicant.
Whether Captain Trebizondi is a Mohammedan I am not certain, but, if so, he may have remembered words of the Prophet to the effect that it is essential to trust in Allah absolutely, and expedient to tie up your camel yourself, none the less. Captain Trebizondi was trusting in Allah perchance—but he had not tied up his camel; he had not learnt his drill.
And when Colonel Dearman personally and pointedly appealed to him in the matter of the battalion's telling-off, he turned round and faced it and said—
"Ah—battalion—er—" in a very friendly and persuasive voice.
Then a drill corporal took it upon him to bawl Number One as Captain Trebizondi should have done, some one shouted Number Two from "B" Company, the colour-sergeant of "C" bawled Number Three and then, with ready wit, the Captains of "D," "E," and "F" caught up the idea, and the thing was done.
So far so good.
And the Colonel returned to his first venture and again announced to the battalion that it would advance in succession and in fours from the left of companies.
It bore the news with equanimity and Captain Trebizondi visibly brightened at the idea of leaving the spot on which he had suffered and sweated—but he took no steps in the matter personally.
He tried to scratch his leg through his gaiter.
"'A' Company going this evening?" inquired the General. "Wouldn't hurry you, y'know, but—I dine at nine."