Kirby whipped his horse and took the drive that led to his quarters at a speed there was no overhauling. He wanted to be alone. But his senior major had forestalled him and was waiting by his outer door. "Oh, hallo, Brammle. Yes, come in." "Is it peace, Jehu?" asked Brammle. "War. We'll be the first to go. No, no route yet--likely to get it any minute." "I'll bet, then. Bet you it's Bombay--a P. and O.--Red Sea and Marseilles! Oh, who wouldn't be light cavalry? First-class all the way, first aboard, and first crack at 'em! Any orders, sir?" "Yes. Take charge. I'm going out, and Warrington's going with me. Don't know how long we'll be gone. If anybody asks for me, tell him I'll be back soon. Tell the men." "Somebody's told 'em--listen!" "Tell 'em that whoever misbehaves from now forward will be left behind. Give 'em my definite promise on that point!" "Anything else, sir?" "No." "Then see you later." "See you later." The major went away, and Kirby turned to his adjutant. "Go and order the closed shay, Warrington. Pick a driver who won't talk. Have some grub sent in here to me, and join me at it in half an hour; say fifteen minutes later. I've some things to see to." Kirby wanted very much to be alone. The less actual contact a colonel has with his men, and the more he has with his officers, the better--as a rule; but it does not pay to think in the presence of either. Officers and men alike should know him as a man-who-has-thought, a man in whose voice is neither doubt nor hesitation. Thirty minutes later Warrington found him just emerging from a brown study. "India's all roots-in-the-air an' dancin'!" he remarked cheerfully. "There was a babu sittin' by the barrack gate who offers to eat a German a day, as long as we'll catch 'em for him. He's the same man that was tryin' for a job as clerk the other day." "Fat man?" "Very." "Uh-h-h! No credentials--bad hat! Send him packing?" "The guard did." Food was laid on a small table by a silent servant who had eyes in the back of his head and ears that would have caught and analyzed the lightest whisper; but the colonel and his adjutant ate hurriedly in silence, and the only thing remarkable that the servant was able to report to the regiment afterward was that both drank only water. Since all Sikhs are supposed to be abstainers from strong drink, that was accepted as a favorable omen. The shay arrived on time to the second. It was the only closed carriage the regiment owned--a heavy C-springed landau thing, taken over from the previous mess. The colonel peered through outer darkness at the box seat, but the driver did not look toward him; all he could see was that there was only one man on the box. "Where to?" asked Warrington. "The club." Warrington jumped in after him, and the driver sent his pair straining at the traces as if they had a gun behind them. Three hundred yards beyond the barrack wall Colonel Kirby knelt on the front seat and poked the driver from behind.