‘Never mind! We’ll soon find him.’
The first man they saw was the commandant. He was looking well that day—the picture of a powerful mandarin. The old ladies got a little nervous. They wondered whether the ‘com.’ was a fierce sergeant-major or a regimental policeman. He was so impressive! But they tackled him.
‘Can you tell me where to find the rector? I want to see my son,’ said the mater.
‘I’m afraid, madam, there’s no rector here,’ the old man said with a smile on his face.
‘Oh, well, the manager, or whatever you call him. I really don’t know the right terms.’
‘Well, I’m the commandant.’
‘Then you must be the head-master.’
‘Exactly!’ The colonel blinked. He loathed these civilian terms.
‘My boy’s name is John Brown.’