three
chatted a little.

George, who had accompanied Captain Resmith into the background,
murmured to him, as cautiously as a convict talking at exercise:

"He's got his knife into me."

"Who?"

"The Colonel."

"Don't you know why?"

"No. I was specially recommended to him."

"Well, that's one reason, isn't it? But there was a difficulty between
him and the Major as to when you should come. The old man got the better
of him--always does. But he's a good officer."

"Who?"

"Hullocher. Shut up."

These two had reached familiarity with the swiftness characteristic of
martial life.

During the brief colloquy Resmith had sat very upright on his horse, the
chin slightly lifted, the head quite still, even the lips scarcely
moving to articulate. Colonel Hullocher seemed now to be approaching. It
was a false alarm. The Colonel and his Adjutant pranced off. After a
long time, and at a considerable distance, could just be heard the voice
of the Colonel ordering the Brigade to move. But No. 2 Battery did not
stir for another long period. Suddenly, amid a devolution of orders, No.
2 Battery moved. The Major, attended by his trumpeter, and followed by
the Battery staff of range-takers, director-men, telephonists, and the
serjeant-major, inaugurated a sinuous procession into the uneven,
rutted track leading to the side-road. Then the guns one by one wheeled
to the right, the horses' hoofs stamping into the damp ground as they
turned, and became part of the procession. Then the quartermaster and
other N.C.O.'s and men joined; and last were Captain Resmith, attended
by _his_ trumpeter, and George. Resmith looked over his shoulder at the
Third Battery which surged behind. There were nearly two hundred men and
over a hundred and fifty horses and many vehicles in the Battery. The
Major was far out of sight, and the tail of the column was equally out
of sight in the rear, for the total length of Major Craim's cavalcade
exceeded a mile; and of the Brigade three miles, and two other similar
Brigades somewhere in the region of Wimbledon were participating in the
grand Divisional trek.

Captain Resmith cantered ahead to a bend in the track, and anxiously
watched a gun-team take the sharp curve, which was also a sharp slope.
The impression of superb, dangerous physical power was tremendous. The
distended nostrils of horses, the gliding of their muscles under the
glossy skin, the muffled thud of their hoofs in the loose soil, th