Colonel barked:

"Why? Teetotaller?"

"No, sir. But I've eaten nothing since lunch, and a glass of whisky
might make me drunk."

Colonel Hullocher might have offered George some food to accompany the
whisky, but he did not. He had already done a marvel; a miracle was not
to be expected. He looked at George and George looked at him.

"No doubt you're right. Good night."

"Good night, sir." George saluted and marched off.

VIII

He prepared to turn in. The process was the simplest in the world. He
had only to wrap a pair of blankets round his soaked clothes, and,
holding them in place with one hand, creep under the shelter. There were
four shelters. The Major had a small one, nearest the trunk of the tree,
and the others were double shelters, to hold two officers apiece. He
glanced about. The invisible camp was silent and still, save for a
couple of lieutenants who were walking to and fro like young ducks in
the heavy rain. Faint fires here and there in the distance showed how
the troops were spread over the Downs. Heaven and earth were equally
mysterious and inscrutable. He inserted himself cautiously into the
aperture of the shelter, where Resmith already lay asleep, and, having
pushed back his cap, arranged his right arm for a pillow. The clammy
ground had been covered with dry horse-litter. As soon as he was settled
the noise of the rain ceaselessly pattering on the waterproof became
important. He could feel the chill of the wind on his feet, which, with
Resmith's, projected beyond the shelter. The conditions were certainly
astounding. Yet, despite extreme fatigue, he was not depressed. On the
contrary he was well satisfied. He had accomplished something. He had
been challenged, and had accepted the challenge, and had won. The
demeanour of the mess when he got back to the camp clearly indicated
that he had acquired prestige. He was the man who had organized an
exhaustive search for the convoy and had found the convoy in the pitchy
blackness. He was the man who had saved the unit from an undeserved
shame. The mess had greeted him with warm food. Perhaps he had been
lucky--the hazard of a lighted cigarette in the darkness! Yes, but luck
was in everything. The credit was his, and men duly gave it to him, and
he took it. He thought almost kindly of Colonel Hullocher, against whom
he had measured himself. The result of the match was a draw, but he had
provided the efficient bully with matter for reflection. Aft