"Went for them with the bayonet, sir; didn’t wait for them to come to us, but attacked. They couldn’t stick it, and went."
Bradford whistled, his face grown suddenly disapproving.
"Gad, but that was a risky thing to do, Graeme, why, you had but a hundred men."
"And you charged them with that. You’re a very lucky officer, Graeme, that’s all I can say. Still, it turned out all right, though I’m hanged if I can understand how. And now for breakfast, we’ll draw the Rutlands, I think, Godwin," and Bradford, humming a tune, walked gaily away.
"And that’s just one of those things you never will understand," muttered Hector, looking after him. "They don’t teach that at the Staff College. Oh, Godwin, I didn’t see you. Do you want me?"
"I do, rather," answered the long-nosed man, and then was silent, staring at Hector until he grew restive.
"I should like to say, Graeme," replied Godwin, still staring, "that I consider you one of the pluckiest officers I’ve ever met."
"You—you mean that charge, sir?" said Hector, his face lighting up.
"I don’t mean anything of the kind," was the unexpected answer. "I am alluding to the information you brought in last night, and on which we—providentially acted."
"Oh yes, you do, and so did I all the time, and that’s what I mean when I say you’re the pluckiest man I’ve ever met. And on that pluck I congratulate you, Graeme, only, if I were you, I shouldn’t try it again, it mightn’t come off a second time, you see. About that charge of yours, though, that’s a different matter, and, speaking unofficially, of course, I say do _that_ again; by _that_ I mean attack whenever and wherever you can." He stopped, looked at Graeme, and burst out laughing. Then suddenly holding out his hand, wrung Hector’s in its clammy grasp, and hurried away, leaving the other staring after him.
Laden with trophies, bright-faced and triumphant, the column started on its way back to civilisation, and in ten days’ time, to the strains of the local band, sent forward to meet it, was marching proudly through the poplar-lined street of Gethsemane. This town is inhabited mostly by Colonial Dutch, whose loyalty or the reverse rose or fell according as the fortunes of war inclined to one or the other contending party.