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Updated: May 1, 2025
His trim beard and moustache had been white for years, but he had always been a hale man up to his work a fine soldier but not a great leader. There was a vein of indolence in Brigadier-General Thurkow's nature which had the same effect on his career as that caused by barnacles round a ship's keel. This inherent indolence was a steady drag on the man's life.
She was leaning over him, and I could see that she was kissing him. And I knew that she did not love him. I kicked against the chair purposely. Elsie turned and looked towards me, with her hand still resting on Charlie Thurkow's forehead. She beckoned me to go to them, and I saw at once that he was much weaker. She was stroking his hair gently.
No strategist, but a leader who could be trusted with his country's honour. Upright, honourable, honest, brave and it had come to this. It had come to his sitting shamefaced before a poor unknown sawbones not daring to look him in the face. His duty was plain enough. Charlie Thurkow's turn had come. Charlie Thurkow must be sent to Capoo by his father's orders.
"You will wake me if you want me?" "Yes." "Wake me when. . . the change comes." "Yes." In a few moments I was asleep. I do not know what woke me up. It seemed to be very late. All the sounds of barrack life were hushed. The moon was just up. I rose to my feet and turned to the open window. But there I stopped. Elsie was kneeling by Charlie Thurkow's bed.
Thurkow was junior. This might prove to be Thurkow's opportunity, or the other thing. We all knew that he would be willing enough to go; nay, he would be eager. But Thurkow's father was in command, which made all the difference. While we were thinking over these things an orderly appeared at the mess-room door. "Brigadier would like to see you, sir," he said to me.
This was a brain that could think for the rest. There was more than one man's life wrapped up in Charlie Thurkow's. One can never tell. My time might come at any moment, and the help we had sent for could not reach us for another fortnight. Charlie said nothing. He thanked me at intervals for some little service rendered, and nearly all the time his eyes were fixed upon the clock.
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