"
He paused, standing erect and tense, staring out into the blinding
sunlight. Then suddenly, like the swift kindling of a flame, his
attitude changed. He flung up his hands with a wild gesture.
"No, I'm damned!" he cried violently. "I'm damned if they shall! They
are my men--the men I made. I've taught 'em every blessed thing they
know. I've taught 'em to reverence the old flag, and I'm damned if I'll
see them betrayed! You can go back to the Chief, and tell him so! Tell
him they're British subjects, staunch to the backbone! Why, they can
even sing the first verse of the National Anthem! You'll hear them at
it to-night before they turn in. They always do. It's a sort of evening
hymn to them. Oh, Monty, Monty, what cursed trick will our fellows think
of next, I wonder? Are we men, or are we reptiles, we English? And we
boast--we boast of our national honour!"
He broke off, breathing short and hard, as a man desperately near to
collapse, and leaned his head on his arm against the rough wall as if in
shame.
Herne glanced at him once or twice before replying.
"You see," he said at length, speaking somewhat laboriously, "what we've
got to do is to obey orders.
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