Colonel Dearman's face flushed a rich dark purple. His eyes protruded till they resembled those of a crab. His red hair appeared to flame like very fire. His lips twitched and he gasped for breath. Could he believe his ears. "_Let the Major carry on as it is getting late_!" Let him step into the breach "as it is getting late!" Let the more competent, though junior, officer take over the command "as it is getting late". Ho!--likewise Ha! This aged roué, this miserable wine-bibbing co-respondent, with his tremulous hand and boiled eye, thought that Colonel Dearman did not know his drill, did he? Wanted the wretched and incompetent Pinto to carry on, did he?--as it was getting late. Good! Ha! Likewise Ho! "Let Pinto carry on as it was getting late!" Very well! _If it cost Colonel Dearman every penny he had in the world he would have his revenge on the insolent scoundrel_. He might think he could insult Colonel Dearman's wife with impunity, he might think himself entitled to cast ridicule on Colonel Dearman's Corps--but "let the Major carry on as it is getting late!" By God that was too much!--That was the last straw that breaks the camel's heart--and Colonel Dearman would have his revenge or lose life, honour, and wealth in the attempt. _Ha_! and, moreover, _Ho_! The Colonel knew his battalion-drill by heart and backwards. Was it _his_ fault that his officers were fools and his men damn-fools? Major Pinto swallowed hard, blinked hard, and breathed hard. Like the Lady of Shallott he felt that the curse had come upon him. "Battalion will advance. Quick march," he shouted, as a safe beginning. But the Sergeant-Major had by this time fully explained to the sweating Captain Trebizondi that he should have given the order "Form fours. Left. Right wheel. Quick march," when the Colonel had announced that the battalion would advance "in succession from the left of companies". Like lightning he now hurled forth the orders. "Form fours. Left. Right wheel. Quick march.", and the battalion was soon under way with one company in column of fours and the remaining five companies in line.... Time cures all troubles, and in time "A" Company was pushed and pulled back into line again. The incident pleased Major Pinto as it wasted the fleeting minutes and gave him a chance to give the only other order of which he was sure. "That was _oll_ wrong," said he. "We will now, however, oll advance as 'A' Company did. The arder will be 'Battalion will advance. In succession, advance in fours from the right of companees.' Thenn each officer commanding companees will give the arder 'Form fours. Right. Left wheel. Quick march' one after _thee_ other." And the Major gave the order. To the surprise of every living soul upon the parade-ground the manoeuvre was correctly executed and the battalion moved off in column of fours. And it kept on moving. And moving. For Major Pinto had come to the end of his tether.