he think he'd find me?"
"Wiv the 'osses, sir."
A look of gratification crossed Stafford's face. He was well known in
the army as one who looked after his horses and his men. "And what made
you think I was at the hospital, Jigger?"
"Becos you'd been to the 'osses, sir."
"Did you tell the General's orderly that?"
"No, your gryce--no, sir," he added quickly, and a flush of
self-reproach came to his face, for he prided himself on being a real
disciplinarian, a disciple of the correct thing. "I thought I'd like
'im to see our 'osses, an' 'ow you done 'em, an' I'd find you as quick
as 'e could, wiv a bit to the good p'r'aps."
Stafford smiled. "Off you go, then. Find that orderly. Say, Colonel
Stafford's compliments to the General Commanding and he will report
himself at once. See that you get it straight, trumpeter."
Jigger would rather die than not get it straight, and his salute made
that quite plain.
"It's made a man of him, anyhow," Stafford said to himself, as he
watched the swiftly disappearing figure. "He's as straight as a nail,
body and mind--poor little devil.... How far away it all seems!"
A quarter of an hour later he was standing beside the troop-train which
he had seen labouring to its goal. It was carrying the old regiment of
the General Officer Commanding, who had sent Stafford to its Colonel
with an important message. As the two officers stood together watching
the troops detrain and make order out of the chaos of baggage and
equipment, Stafford's attention was drawn to a woman some little
distance away, giving directions about her impedimenta.
"Who is the lady?" he asked, while in his mind was a sensible stir of
recognition.
"Ah, there's something like the real thing!" his companion replied.
"She is doing a capital bit of work. She and Lady Tynemouth have got a
hospital-ship down at Durban. She's come to link it up better with the
camp. It's Rudyard Byng's wife. They're both at it out here."
"Who comes there!" Stafford had exclaimed a moment before with a sense
of premonition.
Jasmine had come.
He drew back in the shadow as she turned round towards them.
"To the Stay Awhile--right!" he heard a private say in response to her
directions.
He saw her face, but not clearly. He had glimpse of a Jasmine not so
daintily pretty as of old, not so much of a dresden-china shepherdess;
but with the face of a woman who, watching the world with understanding
eyes, and living with an un
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