Garry became nervously garrulous. Never once meeting Sean's eyes, he
aimed his remarks higher up the table, and that bronze cross suspended
on the ribbon of shot purple silk that bumped against his chest each
time he leaned forward gave a weight to his opinions that was evident
in the attention they received from the officers of general rank.
The food was excellent. Rock lobster that had run the gauntlet EJJ@_
of Boer blockade from the Cape, plump young pheasant, venison, four
assorted sauces-even the quality of the champagne had improved.
But Sean ate little, instead he gave permanent employment to the wine
steward who hovered behind his chair.
'And so,' said Garrick as he selected a cigar from the cedar wood box
that was offered him,
'I cannot see hostilities continuing another three months at the
outside.
'I agree with you, sir,' Major Peterson nodded. 'We'll be back in
London for the season.
'Poppycock! ' Sean made his first contribution to the discussion.
It was a word he had learned only recently-but he Red it.
Besides, there were ladies present.
Peterson's face charmeleoned to a creditable match with the scarlet of
his dress coat, Acheson started to smile then changed his mind, Candy
wriggled in anticipation for she had reached the edge of boredom, and a
chilly stillness fell over that area of the table.
'I beg your pardon?' Garry looked at him for the first time.
'Poppycock,' Sean repeated, and the wine steward stepped forward to
cascade champagne into the crystal bowl of his glass, an operation
which he had repeated at least a dozen times during the course of the
evening-but this time it commanded the attention of the entire
company.
'You don't agree with me?' Garry challenged.
'No. 'Why not?'
'Because there are still eighteen thousand Boers in the field, because
they are still an organized army, because not once have they had a
decisive defeat inflicted on them-but mainly because of the character
of these eighteen thousand that are left. ' 'You don't-' Garry's voice
was petulant, but Acheson interrupted smoothly. 'Excuse me, Colonel
Courtney.' Then he turned to Sean. 'I believe you know these people-'
he hesitated and then went on, 'you are even related through marriage.
' 'My brother-in-law leads the Wynberg, commando,'
Sean affirmed. The old boy knew more of his past then he suspected
must have made a few inquiries. Sean was flattered and the harshness
gone from his voice.
'What, in your opinion, will be their course of action from now on?'
Acheson pursued the subject and Sean tasted his champagne while he
considered his reply.
'They will scatter, break up into their traditional fighting units, the
commando. ' Acheson nodded, from his position on the General Staff he
knew this had already happened.
'In so doing they will avoid the necessity of dragging a supply column
with them. Once the rainy season begins these small units will find
