SECOND OFFICER [looking towards the headquarter tent]
By this time they must nearly have dotted down
The methods of our master-stroke to-morrow:
I have no clear conception of its plan,
Even in its leading lines. What is decided?
FIRST OFFICER
There are outshaping three supreme attacks,
As I decipher. Graham’s on the left,
To compass which he crosses the Zadorra,
And turns the enemy’s right. On our right, Hill
Will start at once to storm the Puebla crests.
The Chief himself, with us here in the centre,
Will lead on by the bridges Tres-Puentes
Over the ridge there, and the Mendoza bridge
A little further up.—That’s roughly it;
But much and wide discretionary power
Is left the generals all.
[The officers walk away, and the stillness increases, so the
conversation at the hussars’ bivouac, a few yards further back,
becomes noticeable.]
SERGEANT YOUNG[19]
I wonder, I wonder how Stourcastle is looking this summer night, and
all the old folks there!
SECOND HUSSAR
You was born there, I think I’ve heard ye say, Sergeant?
SERGEANT YOUNG
I was. And though I ought not to say it, as father and mother are
living there still, ’tis a dull place at times. Now Budmouth-Regis
was exactly to my taste when we were there with the Court that
summer, and the King and Queen a-wambling about among us like the
most everyday old man and woman you ever see. Yes, there was plenty
going on, and only a pretty step from home. Altogether we had a
fine time!
THIRD HUSSAR
You walked with a girl there for some weeks, Sergeant, if my memory
serves?
SERGEANT YOUNG
I did. And a pretty girl ’a was. But nothing came on’t. A month
afore we struck camp she married a tallow-chandler’s dipper of Little
Nicholas Lane. I was a good deal upset about it at the time. But
one gets over things!
SECOND HUSSAR
’Twas a low taste in the hussy, come to that.—Howsomever, I agree
about Budmouth. I never had pleasanter times than when we lay there.
You had a song on it, Sergeant, in them days, if I don’t mistake?
SERGEANT YOUNG
I had; and have still. ’Twas made up when we left by our bandmaster
that used to conduct in front of Gloucester Lodge at the King’s Mess
every afternoon.
[The Sergeant is silent for a minute, then suddenly bursts into
melody.]
SONG “BUDMOUTH DEARS”
I
When we lay where Budmouth Beach is,
O, the girls were fresh as peaches,
With their tall and tossing figures and their eyes of blue
and brown!
And our hearts would ache with longing
As we paced from our sing-songing,
With a smart CLINK! CLINK! up the Esplanade and down