“Yes, unless you want to take charge of the boat.”
“I'd rather not, sir, if you please. How long before she sails?”
“About three hours. Have you anything to do?”
“I should like to visit the R. A. M. C. hospital. I should also like to phone the American hospital at Etaples.”
“Very well, you can easily do both. I will run you up in my car, if you care to wait a few moments until I put through some little matters here. Then if you will be good enough to join me at breakfast, I can drive you up afterwards to the hospital. This is my car. I think you had better step in and sit down; you look rather used up.”
“Will you allow me to speak to some of the men first, sir?”
“Oh, certainly. Do anything you like. There are your men.”
As Barry moved along the line of men drawn up on the platform, he was followed by a rising murmur of admiration, until, as he reached a group of officers at the end, a little Tommy, an English cockney, lifting high his rifle, sang out:
“Naow then, lads, 'ere's to our O. D,” adding after the cheers, “'e's a bit ov ol raa-ght, 'e is!”
“Men,” said Barry, “I thank you for your cheers, but I thank you more for your splendid behaviour night before last. It was beyond praise. You couldn't save all your comrades, but you would willingly have given your lives to save them. That's the true spirit of the Empire. It's the spirit of Humanity. It's the spirit of God. If I were a combatant officer—”