rds upon them, and die in the noxious
lyddite fumes dispersed by bursting shells.

The variegated crowd cheered as the Staff dismounted at the white-painted
iron gates of the railed-in Hospital grounds. It was not the acclamation
of admiration, it was the cheer expectant. They wanted to know what the
Officer in Command was going to do? Intolerable suspense racked them.
Wherever it was known that he would be, there they followed at this
juncture--solid masses of humanity, bored with innumerable ear-holes, and
enamelled with patient, glittering, expectant eyes. His own keen, kindly
glance swept over them as he touched his grey felt hat in acknowledgment
of their dubious greeting, that half-hearted but well-meant cheer. He read
the mute question written upon all the faces. Part of his answer to the
interrogation was standing in the Railway-yard, but they would have to
wait a little while longer yet--just a little longer. He whistled his
pleasant melodious little tune as the porter hurried to open the gates.

One pair of pale, rather ugly eyes in the crowd were illumined with pure
hero-worship. "That's 'im," explained their owner, nudging a big man in
shabby white drill, who was shouldering a deliberate way through the
press.

"The Colonel--and ain't 'e a Regular Oner! Them along of 'im--with the red
shoulder-straps and brown leather leggin's, they're cav'l'ry Orficers o'
the Staff, they are. An' them others in khaki with puttees--syme as wot
I've got on--they're the Medical Swells. Military Saw-boneses--twig? You
can tell 'em, when you're near enough, by the bronze badges with a serpint
climbin' up a stick inside a wreath, wot they 'ave on the fronts o' their
caps an' on their jacket-collars, an' the instrument-cases wot they
carries in their bres' pockets. I'm a bit in the know about these things,
being a sort of Service man meself."

Thus delicately did W. Keyse invite comment. Splendid additions had
certainly been made to the martial outfit of the previous day. The tweed
Norfolk had been replaced by a khaki jacket, evidently second-hand, and
obligingly taken in by the lady of the boarding-house. A Corporal's
stripe, purchased from a trooper of the B.S.A., who, as the consequence of
over-indulgence in liquor and language, had one to sell, had been sewn
upon the sleeve. The original owner had charged an extra tikkie for doing
it, and it burned the arm that bore it like a vaccination-pustule on the
fifth day.

"