Penhallow, lazily at ease, planned to spend Christmas
day with Tom McGregor or Roland Blake. The orders of a too energetic
Colonel of his own Corps summarily disposed of his anticipated leisure.
The tired and disgusted Captain dismounted at evening, and limping gave
his horse to Josiah.
"What you done to Hoodoo, Master John? He's lame--and you too."
Without answering John Penhallow turned to greet Tom McGregor. "Happy
Christmas, Tom."
"You don't look very happy, John, nor that poor beast of yours. But I am
glad to have caught you at last." The faraway thunder of the siege
mortars was heard as he spoke. "Nice Christmas carol that! Have you been
to-day in the graveyards you call trenches?"
"No, I was not on duty. I meant to ride over to your hospital to have a
home-talk and exchange grumbles, but just as I mounted Colonel Swift
stopped with a smartly dressed aide-de-camp. I saluted. He said, 'I was
looking for an engineer off duty. Have the kindness to ride with me.'"
"By George! Tom, he was so polite that I felt sure we were on some
unpleasant errand. I was as civil, and said, 'With pleasure.' A nice
Christmas celebration! Well, I have been in the saddle all day. It rained
and froze to sleet on the snow, and the horses slipped and slid most
unpleasantly.
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