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Updated: May 28, 2025
Ayling since her husband's death; she knew that he was in India; they had renewed the friendship when he returned to England a short time ago. Ah, it was probable, then, that she knew very little about any attachments Mr. Ayling might have had? Here Mr. Burke shifted his position, coughed slightly, and said: "I ask you these questions, Mrs.
Think of the rush to crawl under the counter! It might be a Headquarters? We might get Von Kluck or Rupy of Bavaria, splitting a half litre together. We shall earn Military Crosses over this, my boy," concluded the imaginative youth. "Wow, wow!" "The worst of indirect fire," mused the less gifted Ayling, "is that you never can tell whether you have hit your target or not.
Ayling told him. "They are behind you, sirr." "I was just goin' to say, sir," chanted the guide, making one last effort to redeem his prestige, "as 'ow " "Party," commanded Ayling, "about turn!" Having received details of the route from the friendly Cameron, he scrambled out of the trench and crawled along to what was now the head of the procession. A plaintive voice followed him.
Then suddenly, as if she saw the utter hopelessness of making them understand, she seemed with a gesture to give up abstractions and obscurities and to find in the depth of her mother's heart the final simple words: "Don't you see?" she said. "I hadn't thought how my being there at the same inn with Mr. Ayling would look and then, all at once, it came over me.
"That's right, sirr," assented Dunshie politely. "Are you a professional?" "No exactly that, sirr," was the modest reply. "You just make a hobby of it?" "Just that, sirr." "Have you had much experience?" "No that much." "But you feel capable of taking on the job?" "I do, sirr." "You seem quite eager about it." "Yes, sirr," said Dunshie, with gusto. A sudden thought occurred to Ayling.
"Well, sir, if we'd come by the way I " Ayling took a deep breath, and though conscious of the presence of formidable competitors, was about to make the best of an officer's vocabulary, when a kilted figure loomed out of the darkness. "Hallo! Who are you?" inquired Ayling. "This iss the Camerons' trenches, sirr," replied a polite West Highland voice. "What trenches wass you seeking?"
"Oh, I just climbed up on the top of the parapet and sat there for a bit," says Bobby Little modestly. "They were all right after that." "Had you any excitement, Ayling?" asks Kemp. "I hear rumours that you had two casualties." "Yes," says Ayling. "Four of us went out patrolling in front of the trench " "Who?" "Myself, two men, and old Sergeant Carfrae." "Carfrae?" Wagstaffe laughs.
"Nothing unless the enemy succeed in working right down here; in which case we shall take our turn of getting it in the neck or giving it! I fancy old Ayling and his popgun will have a word to say, if he can find a nice straight bit of trench. All we can do for the present is to keep a sharp look-out in front. I have no doubt they will attack in force when the right moment comes."
"Seems familiar " He shook his head. "You don't recall a Mr. Ayling twenty-five or thirty years ago?" "Ayling, sir? I recall there was a member of that name.... You're not Mr. Ayling, sir?" "We're not very flattering, either of us, it seems. But then, privilege of the aged, I suppose." "Beg pardon, sir. I'm sorry I ought to remember you." "We're wearing masks, Chedsey, you and I."
"That old fire-eater? I remember him at Paardeberg. You were lucky to get back alive. Proceed, my son!" "We went out," continues Ayling, "and patrolled." "How?" "Well, there you rather have me. I have always been a bit foggy as to what a patrol really does what risks it takes, and so on. However, Carfrae had no doubts on the subject whatever.
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