He did not see a fat babu approach the
general's bungalow from the direction of the bazaar. The babu
salaamed profoundly, but Kirby's eyes were fixed on the road ahead,
and his thoughts were already deep in the future. He saw nothing
except the road, until he took the last corner into barracks on one
wheel, and drew up a minute later in front of the bachelor quarters
that had sheltered him for the past four years.
* * * * *
"Pack! Campaign kit! One trunk!" he ordered his servant. "Orderly!"
An orderly ran in from outside.
"Tell Major Brammle and Captain Warrington to come to me!"
It took ten minutes to find Warrington, since every job was his, and
nearly every responsibility, until his colonel should take charge of
a paraded, perfect regiment, and lead it away to its fate. He came at
last, however, and on the run, and Brammle with him.
"Orders changed!" said Kirby. "March at noon! Man'll be here this
morning to take charge of officers' effects. Better have things ready
for him and full instructions. One trunk allowed each officer. Two
chargers."
"Destination, sir?" asked Brammle.
"Not disclosed!"
"Where do we entrain?" asked Warrington.
"We march out of Delhi. Entrain later, at a place appointed on the
road."
Warrington began to hum to himself and to be utterly, consciously
happy.
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