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This was an undercutting blow at those who insisted on the belief in witchcraft as an essential of Christian faith; and Wagstaffe, moreover, made good his case. His second argument was one which no less needed to be emphasized. Coincidence, he believed, accounts for a great deal of the inexplicable in witchcraft narratives.
A tall figure loomed against the starlit sky, and Captain Wagstaffe, who had been out in the trench, spoke quickly to Major Kemp: "I thing we had better get to our places, sir. Some criminal has cut my alarm-cord!"
"We shall do better this time," said Major Wagstaffe to Bobby Little, as they stood watching the battalion assemble, in workmanlike fashion, for a route-march. "There are just one or two little points which had not occurred to us then. We have grasped them now, I think." "Such as?"
"The whole Division," explains Captain Wagstaffe to Bobby Little, "should be able to get up into some sort of formation about the Bosche third line before any real fighting begins; so it does not very much matter whether we start first or fiftieth in the procession." Captain Wagstaffe showed himself an accurate prophet. We move on.
She adored Marcia, and indeed all the family. Lady Coryston called her "Miss Wagstaffe" but to the others, sons and daughter, she was only "Waggin." There were very few things about the Coryston family she did not know; but her discretion was absolute. As she saw Marcia running down-stairs her face lit up. "My dear, what a lovely gown! and how sweet you look!"
He crouched low, for a terrific bombardment was in progress, and shells were almost grazing the parapet. Presently he was joined by a slim young officer similarly disguised. It was the Commander of "A" Company. Wagstaffe placed his head close to Bobby's left ear, and shouted through the cloth "We shan't feel this gas much. They're letting it off higher up the line. Look!"
The one topic of conversation at present is Charlie Chaplin." "Who is Charlie Chaplin?" inquired several voices. Wagstaffe shook his head. "I haven't the faintest idea," he said. "All I know is that you can't go anywhere in London without running up against him. He is It. The mention of his name in a revue is greeted with thunders of applause.
Possibly he was interested in Wagstaffe's unusual expansiveness: possibly he hoped to steer the conversation away from the topic of V.A.D.'s possibly towards it. You never know. "Well," said Wagstaffe, "we are all going to understand one another a great deal better after this war." "Who? Labour and Capital, and so on?" "'Labour and Capital' is a meaningless and misleading expression, Bobby.
Many grey figures began to climb up the face of Fosse Eight, where apparently there was none to say them nay. "We shall have a cheery walk back, I don't think!" murmured Wagstaffe. He was right. Presently a withering fire was opened from the summit of the Fosse, which soon began to take effect in the exiguous and ill-protected trench.
We shall win all right. Well, I am off to the Mess. See you later, everybody!" "Meanwhile," inquired Wagstaffe, as the party settled down again, "what is brewing here! I haven't seen the adjutant yet." "You'll see him soon enough," replied Blaikie grimly. He glanced over his shoulder towards the four civilian card-players.
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