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.
"Then I'll get a move on!" he said, starting to hurry out.
"Everything's ready, but—"
"Wait a minute!" commanded Kirby; and Warrington remained in the room after Brammle had left it.
"You haven't said anything to anybody, of course, about that incident last night?"
"No, sir."
"Then she has!"
Warrington whistled.
"Are you sure she has?"
"Quite. I've just had proof of it!"
"Makes a fellow reverence the sex!" swore Warrington.
"It'll be forgotten by the time we're back in India," said Kirby solemnly. "Remember to keep absolutely silent about it. The best way to help others forget it is to forget it yourself. Not one word now to anybody, even under provocation!"
"Not a word, sir!"
"All right. Go and attend to business!"
What "attending to business" meant nobody can guess who has not been in at the breaking up of quarters at short notice. Everything was ready, as Warrington had boasted, but even an automobile may "stall" for a time in the hands of the best chauffeur, and a regiment contains as many separate human equations as it has men in its ranks.
The amount of personal possessions that had to be jettisoned, or left to the tender mercies of a perfunctory agent, would have wrung groans from any one but soldiers. The last minute details that seemed to be nobody's job, and that, therefore, all fell to Warrington because somebody had to see to them, were beyond the imagination of any but an adjutant, and not even Warrington's imagination proved quite equal to the task.
"We're ready, sir!" he reported at last to Kirby. "We're paraded and waiting. Brammle's inspected 'em, and I've done ditto. There are only thirteen thousand details left undone that I can't think of, and not one of 'em's important enough to keep us waitin'!"
So Kirby rode out on parade and took the regiment's salute. There was nobody to see them off. There were not even women to wail by the barrack gate, for they marched away at dinner-time and official lies had been distributed where they would do most good.
