"Ah, well, 'tis certain he hath crossed River Somme,'" quoted Private Graham Alderhame formerly of the Shakesperian Repertoire Company and now a humble foot-slogging Tommy in a noted Line Regiment. "Well, if this is across the Somme I don't think much of it. Another ten miles by motor-bus, I suppose, and then something in the way of grub. Got a cigarette on you, dear boy?"
Private Ralph Setley, who seven months previously had been a bank-clerk in a busy provincial town, placed his rifle against a pile of equipment that was serenely resting in the mud, and fumbled for a packet of smokes. Then, having handed one of the contents to his chum, he struck a match.
The light flickered upon the honest, deeply tanned features of a typical British lad of about nineteen or twenty. In spite of a day of extreme discomfort in the over-crowded horse-box which the French Government placed at the disposal of Allied troops, his eyes twinkled with the excitement of the moment. At last he was within sound of the guns, and more, the chance of meeting a Hun was within measurable distance.
Having lighted Alderhame's cigarette and his own, Setley was about to throw the vilely sulphurous match to the ground when another voice interposed:
"Hold hard, chum. Let's have a light."
Ralph was about to comply with the request when a hand shot out and sent the still flaring match flying through the air.
"What's that for, George?" asked the disappointed applicant for a light, with mingled truculence and resentment.
"'Cause 'tain't for no good; third chap as 'as a light from the same match allus goes West—honest fact," replied Ginger Anderson, a short, wiry man, who, according to his attestation papers, used to be a gamekeeper, although others of his platoon swore that he had been convicted three times for poaching.
"Listen!" exclaimed Alderhame, placing a hand on Setley's shoulder.
A short distance along the double line of waiting Tommies a hungry Kentish man was endeavouring to persuade an ancient paysanne to sell some eggs. Judging by the man's injured tone his efforts were not meeting with success.