"I wish you would not go out like that. . . . I'll make you some cocoa. . . ."
Tietjens said:
"I can't keep the men waiting while I dress. . . . I'm as strong as a horse. . . ."
He was out amongst the bitterness, the mist, and the moongleams on three thousand rifle barrels, and the voices. . . . He was seeing the Germans pour through a thin line, and his heart was leaden. . . . A tall, graceful man swam up against him and said, through his nose, like an American:
"There has been a railway accident, due to the French strikers. The draft is put back till three pip emma the day after to-morrow, sir."
Tietjens exclaimed:
"It isn't countermanded?" breathlessly.
The Canadian sergeant-major said:
"No, sir. . . . A railway accident. . . . Sabotage by the French, they say. . . . Four Glamorganshire sergeants, all nineteen-fourteen men, killed, sir, going home on leave. But the draft is not cancelled. . . ." Tietjens said:
"Thank God!"
The slim Canadian with his educated voice said:
"You're thanking God, sir, for what's very much to our detriment. Our draft was ordered for Salonika till this morning. The sergeant in charge of draft returns showed me the name Salonika scored off in his draft roster. Sergeant-Major Cowley had got hold of the wrong story. Now it's going up the line. The other would have been a full two months' more life for us."
The man's rather slow voice seemed to continue for a long time. As it went on Tietjens felt the sunlight
