“‘No!’ sez Crook, an’ the Tyrone laughed.
“‘Thin fwhat the divil have ye done?’
“‘Disthroyed ut,’ sez Crook, an’ he took us on, but not before Toomey that was in the Tyrone sez aloud, his voice somewhere in his stummick: ‘Fwhat in the name av misfortune does this parrit widout a tail mane by shtoppin’ the road av his betthers?’
“The Staff Orf’cer wint blue, an’ Toomey makes him pink by changin’ to the voice av a minowderin’ woman an’ sayin’: ‘Come an’ kiss me, Major dear, for me husband’s at the wars an’ I’m all alone at the Depot.’
“The Staff Orf’cer wint away, an’ I cud see Crook’s shoulthers shakin’.
“His Corp’ril checks Toomey. ‘Lave me alone,’ sez Toomey, widout a wink. ‘I was his batman before he was married an’ he knows fwhat I mane, av you don’t. There’s nothin’ like livin’ in the hoight av society.’ D’you remimber that, Orth’ris!”
“Hi do. Toomey, ’e died in ’orspital, next week it was, ’cause I bought ’arf his kit; an’ I remember after that”—
“GUARRD, TURN OUT!”
The Relief had come; it was four o’clock. “I’ll catch a kyart for you, sorr,” said Mulvaney, diving hastily into his accoutrements. “Come up to the top av the Fort an’ we’ll pershue our invistigations into M’Grath’s shtable.” The relieved Guard strolled round the main bastion on its way to the swimming-bath, and Learoyd grew almost talkative. Ortheris looked into the Fort ditch and across the plain. “Ho! it’s weary waitin’ for Ma-ary!” he hummed; “but I’d like to kill some more bloomin’ Paythans before my time’s up. War! Bloody war! North, East, South, and West.”
“Amen,” said Learoyd, slowly.