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Here, on the night of the 30th, I met Colonel McNeill's regiment of Texas horse, numbering two hundred and fifty men, of whom fifty were without arms; and the following morning Colonel Herbert came in, with a hundred and twenty-five of his three hundred and fifty men unarmed. These were a part of Green's command, and the first reënforcements received.
It would be impossible for this gentleman to disguise himself so. "For a moment Marmont seemed no less puzzled than we. Then he broke out laughing again. "'Ah! of course; that will have been Captain McNeill's servant the poor fellow who was killed, he added more gravely. 'I am told, sir, that this servant shared and furthered most of your adventures?
"You might as well whistle down the draught-pipe of hell! If they're just up there for a row, there'll be whisky in camp; and you can bet McNeill's got some of 'em instructed on YOUR account. They'll kill you, sure!" "I agree with you it's risky," replied Orde. "I'm scared; I'm willing to admit it. But I don't see what else to do.
"He was achin' for it turrible achin' for it an' he would not be denied!" said Sergeant William Connor, of the Berkshire Regiment, in the sergeants' mess at Suakim, two nights before the attack on McNeill's zeriba at Tofrik. "Serve 'im right. Janders was too bloomin' suddint," skirled Henry Withers of the Sick Horse Depot from the bottom of the table.
He watched her anxiety with sympathy, and in a way became her confidant. His tender heart, which never could resist suffering, was deeply touched at sight of her distress. Finally McNeill's letters ceased altogether; and then Anne confided to Lincoln something which McNeill had told her before he left, and which until now she had kept secret, namely, that his name was not McNeill but McNamar.
"Boys," said he, "how game are you to get Charlie's money back and then some?" "Try us," returned big Tim. "This game's at McNeill's, and McNeill's is a tough hole," warned Orde. "Maybe everything will go peaceful, and maybe not. And you boys that go with me have got to keep sober.
"No," argued Newmark, "I want to go in with you." "It's dangerous," explained Orde. "You're likely to get slugged." "I can stand it if you can," returned Newmark. "I doubt it," said Orde grimly. "However, it's your funeral. Come on, if you want to." McNeill's lower story was given over entirely to drinking. A bar ran down all one side of the room. Dozens of little tables occupied the floor.
The wonderful work he is doing in this world is only a part of the plan, for in the ages to come he expects to show forth the manysidedness of his grace and reveal to us the depth of his love to us in Christ. John McNeill's friend had an eagle which he had reared in the farm yard with the ordinary fowl that lived there.
The truth is, it was the fault of the Intelligence Department that nearly wrecked us, and it was McNeill's prudence and our pluck that saved us, and yet these quill-drivers at home bah!" The soldier rose in hot indignation and strode from the room. "He's a wee thing roosed!" remarked Sutherland, with a good-humoured yet slightly cynical grin. "But guid-nicht to ye, ma man.
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