Terrington's voice came upon the scene like the call of a bugle. There was help in it and scorn and energy and command, and, behind if, unconquerable will and eyes that saw. The men dragged themselves to their feet, and straightened themselves to match its clear direction. Order after order rang out, like the voice of a ship's captain shortening sail, quick, certain, vivid with necessity, but cool as the dew. The heaps of men became ranks that took shape and moved. Rifles rose on end, blankets were slung between them, and slowly the crescent camp came into being, which should offer least resistance to and most shelter from a storm. The little hospital leanto was enlarged, the worst cases were brought in and treated, and then laid for warmth one upon the other at the end of it. For close on three hours Terrington's labour never ceased for a second, and the camp lived upon his voice. He did not leave it till he had seen every man with some covering over him, and some food to eat; not, indeed, till maternally, he had tucked them all into bed. Then, hoarse with shouting and drunk with fatigue, he staggered back to the little green tent. Rose turned her head as he entered, but the eyes were strange to him. He kneeled down beside her, dried the snow from his hand, and laid the back of it upon her cheek. Her skin was gray and mortally cold. "I'm dying," she whispered. He felt her hands, which were blue and lifeless, and with no flutter of a pulse. The air in the little tent was a long way below the freezing-point, and it was quite evident that she was slowly sinking into the torpor from which she never could be roused. He chafed her hands, but no heat came to them; she merely turned from him with a weary gesture to be left alone. Then he pressed her palms against the talc of the lantern, but the flickering candle seemed to give out no warmth. Then, suddenly, a thought struck him with the fierce hazard of despair. He gazed at her in doubt for a moment, then he got up, dusted the flakes of snow from his riding-breeches and drew off his long boots. Rose turned her head away from him on the pillow with a sigh and closed her eyes. She was slipping happily away from him into the land of shadows. Terrington took off his greatcoat and spread it over her. Then he lifted the wraps that covered her, and lying down upon the mattress slowly drew them over himself as well. She turned again, childishly fretful at being disturbed. Running a finger down the buttons of his patrol, Terrington raised himself, and taking her in his arms drew her under him, spreading his body upon hers.