“So Macklin went an’ got it, an’ the B. S. M. had ’is glass with the rest. Then they argued whether mess servants an’ non-combatants was entitled to chalk the guns (’Ammick _versus_ Mosse). After a bit, ’Ammick as C. O. give ’imself best, an’ me an’ Macklin was severely admonished for trespassin’ on combatants’ rights, an’ the B. S. M. was warned that if we repeated the offence ’e could deal with us summ’rily. He ’ad some glasses o’ port an’ went out quite ’appy. Then my turn come, while Macklin was gettin’ them their tea; an’ one thing leadin’ to another, ’Ammick put me through all the Janeite Degrees, you might say. ’Never ’ad such a doin’ in my life.” “Yes, but what did you tell ’em?” said Anthony. “I can’t ever _think_ my lies quick enough when I’m for it.” “No need to lie. I told ’em that the back-side view o’ the Skoda, when she was run up, put Lady De Bugg into my ’ead. They gave me right there, but they said I was wrong about General Tilney. ’Cordin’ to them, our Navy twelve-inch ought to ’ave been christened Miss Bates. I said the same idea ’ad crossed my mind, till I’d seen the General’s groovin’. Then I felt it had to be the General or nothin’. But they give me full marks for the Reverend Collins--our Nine-point-two.” “An’ you fed ’em _that_ sort o’ talk?” Anthony’s fox-coloured eyebrows climbed almost into his hair. “While I was assistin’ Macklin to get tea--yes. Seein’ it was an examination, I wanted to do ’im credit as a Janeite.” “An’--an’ what did they say?” “They said it was ’ighly creditable to us both. I don’t drink, so they give me about a hundred fags.” “Gawd! What a Circus you must ’ave been,” was Anthony’s gasping comment. “It _was_ a ’appy little Group. I wouldn’t ’a changed with any other.” Humberstall sighed heavily as he helped Anthony slide back the organ-panel. We all admired it in silence, while Anthony repocketed his secret polishing mixture, which lived in a tin tobacco-box. I had neglected my work for listening to Humberstall. Anthony reached out quietly and took over a Secretary’s Jewel and a rag. Humberstall studied his reflection in the glossy wood. “Almost,” he said critically, holding his head to one side. “Not with an Army. You could with a Safety, though,” said Anthony. And, indeed, as Brother Burges had foretold, one might have shaved in it with comfort. “Did you ever run across any of ’em afterwards, any time?” Anthony asked presently. “Not so many of ’em left to run after, now. With the ’Eavies it’s mostly neck or nothin’. We copped it. In the neck. In due time.” “Well, _you_ come out of it all right.” Anthony spoke both stoutly and soothingly; but Humberstall would not be comforted.