Part 32 (1/2)
In the British trench there was impatience and anxiety. The men waiting to go forward, if necessary, to support the raiders, crouched at the fire-step, muttering. Wally, sick with suspense, peered forward beside the Colonel, who had come in person to see the result of the raid.
”I believe they've missed their way altogether,” muttered the Colonel angrily. ”There should hove been shots long ago. It isn't like Linton. Dawn will be here soon, and the whole lot will be scuppered.”
He wheeled at a sudden commotion beyond him in the trench. ”Silence there! What's that?”
”That” was Jim Linton and his warriors, very muddy, but otherwise undamaged. They dropped into the trench quietly, those who came first turning to receive heavy objects from those yet on top. Last of all Jim hopped down.
”Hullo, Wal!” he whispered. ”Got 'em.”
”Got 'em!” said the Colonel sternly. ”What? Where have you been, sir?”
”I beg your pardon, sir--I didn't know you were there,” Jim said, rather horrified. It is not given to every subaltern to call his commanding officer ”Wal,” when that is not his name. ”I have the guns, sir.”
”You have--_what_?”
”The Boche--I mean, the enemy, machine-guns. We brought them back, sir.”
”You brought them back!” The Colonel leaned against the wall of the trench and began to laugh helplessly. ”And your men?”
”All here, sir. We brought the ammunition, too,” said Jim mildly.
”It seemed a pity to waste it!”
Which things, being told in high places, brought Jim a mention in despatches, and, shortly afterwards, confirmation of his acting rank.
It would be difficult to find fitting words to tell of the effect of this matter upon a certain grizzled gentleman and a very young lady who, when the information reached them were studying patent manures in a morning-room in a house in Surrey.
”He's--why,” gasped Norah incredulously--”he's actually Captain Linton!”
”I suppose he is,” said her father. ”Doesn't it sound ridiculous!”
”I don't think it's ridiculous at all,” said Norah warmly. ”He deserved it. I think it sounds simply beautiful!”
”Do you know,” said her father, somewhat embarra.s.sed--”I really believe I agree with you!” He laughed. ”Captain Linton!”
”Captain Linton!” reiterated Norah. ”Our old Jimmy!” She swept the table clear. ”Oh, Daddy, bother the fertilizers for to-night--I'm going to write to Billabong!”
”But it isn't mail-day to-morrow,” protested her father mildly.
”No,” said Norah. ”But I'll explode if I don't tell Brownie!”
”And will the Captain be coming 'ome soon, Miss Norah?” inquired Allenby, a little later. The household had waxed ecstatic over the news.
”The Captain?” Norah echoed. ”Oh, how nice of you, Allenby! It does sound jolly!”
”Miss de Lisle wishes to know, miss. The news 'as induced 'er to invent a special cake.”
”We'll have to send it to the poor Captain, I'm afraid,” said Norah, dimpling. ”Dear me, I haven't told Mrs. Hunt! I must fly!” She dropped her pen, and fled to the cottage--to find her father there before her.
”I might have known you couldn't wait to tell,” said Norah, laughing.