He hung in the doorway of
Torpenhow's room when the latter was packing and asked innumerable questions
about the coming campaign, till Torpenhow began to feel annoyed.
"You're a secretive animal, Dickie, and you consume your own smoke, don't you?"
he said on the last evening.
"I--I suppose so. By the way, how long do you think this war will last?"
"Days, weeks, or months. One can never tell. It may go on for years."
"I wish I were going."
"Good Heavens! You're the most unaccountable creature! Hasn't it occurred to
you that you're going to be married--thanks to me?"
"Of course, yes. I'm going to be married--so I am. Going to be married. I'm
awfully grateful to you. Haven't I told you that?"
"You might be going to be hanged by the look of you," said Torpenhow.
And the next day Torpenhow bade him good-bye and left him to the loneliness he
had so much desired.
CHAPTER XIV
Yet at the last, ere our spearmen had found him,
Yet at the last, ere a sword-thrust could save,
Yet at the last, with his masters around him,
He of the Faith spoke as master to slave;
Yet at the last, tho' the Kafirs had maimed him,
Broken by bondage and wrecked by the reiver,--
Yet at the last, tho' the darkness had claimed him,
He called upon Allah and died a believer.
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