"It's all nonsense, George," he said. "A man of his talents and experience, a born leader of men——"
"I doubt if you shift him," I answered. "He's committed to it—like thousands of others who are burying themselves in the ranks because they can't wait for commissions."
"He must outgrow that phase," said my uncle impatiently.
When O'Rane called on me some weeks later in a private's uniform, he would hardly discuss the subject. Morris was now in a Yeomanry regiment, and the purpose of the visit was to ask me to accept power of attorney in his absence, realize the scanty remaining assets of the firm, and arrange what terms I could with the creditors—at best an extension of time, at worst a scheme of composition. I had the books examined soon afterwards by an accountant, and with every allowance for moratorium and the "act of God or of the King's enemies" a deficit of £15,000 would have to be faced within two months.
"Bertrand's very keen to get you a job where you'll be less wasted than at present," I said, when our business was done.
"He still seems to think I want to come back," he commented scornfully.
"You're one and thirty, Raney, and in full possession of your powers, as you told us at Chepstow a few weeks ago."
"A good deal's happened since then, George," he answered, offering me his hand. "Look here, I must get back to camp. I'll say good-bye now——"
"I shall see you before you go out," I said.
He shook his head.