Karl got rid of a fourteen-pound sigh, which sounded like the bursting of a
lyddite shell. Then he slipped his hand under his pillow and drew forth a
flask of "Dop." "Drink to her," he said. "To whom?" I asked, falling in
with the humour of the man. "To the girl I love," he muttered like a
schoolboy. "Which one, Karl?" I asked, and I laughed as I spoke. He
snatched the brandy from my hand, lifted the flask to his lips, and drank
deeply. Then again his mighty laugh ran through the hospital ward. "Which
one?" he said; "why, all of them, God bless them. But the maid that is
nearest is always the dearest." "Shut up, you Goth," I said, "and tell me
about Dowling, for some day I shall write the story, and I would like to
hear it from the lips of one of his enemies." The Swede lay back upon his
pillow, stroking the golden horns of hair that fell each side of his mouth,
and I noticed that the lips which a little time before had been smiling
into the face of the nurse were now hard set and stern. So I could have
imagined him standing by the side of his gun, or rushing headlong on to our
ranks. A man with a mouth like that could not flinch in the hour of peril
if he tried, for his jaw had the Kitchener grip, the antithesis of the
parrot pout of the dandy, or the flabby fulness of the fool.

"It was in the fore part of the day," he said at length. "We had been
posted snugly overnight on both sides of two ranges of kopjes, for we knew
that your fellows were going to attempt a reconnaissance next day. How did
we know? you ask. Well, comrade, ask no questions of that kind, and I'll
tell you no lies. The truth I won't tell you."

But we knew, and we were ready. We were disappointed when we saw the force,
for we had expected something much bigger, and had made arrangements for a
larger capture. It was only a troop of Australian Horse that came our way,
and 'the little devil' was riding at their head. We bided our time, hoping
that he might be followed by more men, and, above all, we expected and