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Updated: June 18, 2025
The men did not let the opportunity slip by without giving vent to a lot of criticism. The Subaltern's ears tingled at the remarks that he heard. Never in his life had he felt so ridiculous. Luckily, another similar incident relieved the situation, shortly afterwards. During a few minutes' halt, a cow near the road stood gazing, with that apathetic interest peculiar to cows, at the thirsty men.
There was a considerable delay before two of the platoons appeared at the rallying point. The men did not come in a body but by driblets. He began to get nervous about the other two Subalterns, and in a few minutes went to see what had happened to them. "Lord bless you, sir, 'e's all right," said a man in answer to the Subaltern's inquiry. "We wouldn't let no harm come to 'im."
The sound of a step outside made Peter Pegg throw himself quickly down in a pile of the crushed leaves, burying his face in his hands, while Archie began to walk slowly up and down, conscious the while, through the shutting out of the morning light, that their guard had come up to the side of their prison and looked in, before going back to the sheltering tree, where he squatted down, to watch carelessly the coming of the elephants, one of which made for the hole, and was in the act of thrusting its trunk through, when it was charged by its big companion, the Rajah, who uttered a fierce squeal and drove the intruder away, before inserting his own trunk as usual, making no scruple about taking his customary refreshment from Archie's hand, having during the past few days grown accustomed to the subaltern's presence, and ending by giving the lad a few of the friendly touches that he was in the habit of bestowing upon Peter Pegg.
A keen observer might have said that a shade of disappointment crossed his fine, full-bearded face as he heard the subaltern's voice, but no sign of it appeared in his tone when he spoke. "Mr. Davies, just take this glass and see what you make of that smoke off yonder. The sun is getting low and it baffles me somewhat."
"Coppy," shouted Wee Willie Winkie, reining up outside that subaltern's bungalow early one morning "I want to see you, Coppy!" "Come in, young 'un," returned Coppy, who was at early breakfast in the midst of his dogs. "What mischief have you been getting into now?" Wee Willie Winkie had done nothing notoriously bad for three days, and so stood on a pinnacle of virtue.
Maroilles, a suburb of Landrécies, was passed, and an hour later a big railway junction. The march seemed to be directed on Mauberge, but a digression was made to the north-west, and finally a halt was called at a tiny village called Harignes. The Subaltern's men were billeted in a large barn opening on to an orchard.
The words had hardly passed the subaltern's lips when he felt a sudden snatch and a wallow in the water as if Peter had stepped out of his depth; but the lad recovered himself directly and stood firm, panting. "All right, sir," he whispered. "Bay'nets!"
Peregrine's generous heart was wrung with anguish, when he understood that this young gentleman, who was the only son of a distinguished officer, had carried arms for the space of five years, without being able to obtain a subaltern's commission, though he always had behaved with remarkable regularity and spirit, and, acquired the friendship and esteem of all the officers under whom he had served.
'His pay is a matter of importance to him. You are aware of the smallness of a subaltern's pay. 'I, said the General, 'I say I feel my poor half-pay, having always been a working soldier myself, very important, I was saying, very important to me! 'Why did you retire? Her interest in him seemed promising.
Full in the open space in the center, by the whist tables, the Senior Subaltern's terrier was hunting for fleas. I remember all this as clearly as though a photograph were in my hand. I remember the look of horror on the Senior Subaltern's face. It was rather like seeing a man hanged; but much more interesting.
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