CHAPTER XXIVV.C.Two months later a little party were lunching together in a hotel on one of the Ægean islands. Mr. Forester was there; Isaac Copri and his son; Tomlinson, promoted lieutenant, and enjoying a week's leave; and Frank. The last had his right arm in a sling."Yes," the elder Kopri was saying, "Mirza Aga's carpet is now on its way to London. I contrived to get it shipped at Athens, and it is on the bill of lading of the steamshipEirene, that left the Peiraeus a week ago.""Splendid!" said Frank. "I must find out where Wonckhaus is imprisoned, and let him know. His fury will be my revenge.... I hope you didn't wait long for me at Gallipoli.""I waited until I gave up all hope of seeing you again. We searched the ruins of Benidin's house, Joseph and I, for traces of you, and stayed in the port two or three days in case you should appear. Then we heard that the massacres had broken out, and we escaped to Dedeagatch, just in time.""How did you get your wounds, sir?" asked Joseph."Oh! I was just potted in a gully."Tomlinson laughed."Strictly true, but hopelessly inadequate," he said. "It was like this.""Dry up, Tommy; it's an old story now.""All the better, like this port.""Well, bottle it up, then.""I should like to hear the full story, Mr. Tomlinson," said Mr. Forester. "Frank has told me little more than the bare fact.""There you are, Frank. You want uncorking. Well, when Frank came back to the peninsula I didn't see him for a while. He was interpreting; a soft job, by all accounts, for the Turkish prisoners are very reticent. But the battery on Sari Bair began to be very troublesome, and our fliers couldn't locate it. Frank offered to have a shot, and crept up the gully one night, in rags borrowed from a prisoner; you wouldn't have known him. He spotted the guns overlaid with scrub near that sepulchre of his, reported next morning, and offered to go up again and set light to the hollow tree, as a beacon for our gunners. If that didn't deserve the D.S.O.--well, I know what Anzac thinks.""Cut it short, man. I knew the place, and if the Turks had seen me they'd have taken me for a ghost and skedaddled.""The fellow who potted you didn't take you for a ghost, anyway. He went up, sir, with a lot of pills in his pocket--small incendiary bombs, you know; fired the tree and the brushwood round, and made a fine old blaze, by the light of which somebody gave him two bullets in the arm as he was running down the gully. Our guns got the range in a few minutes--and we've had no more trouble from that particular battery. I tell you, all Anzac was mad with delight, and carried Frank round the camp cheering like----""Have you seen this?" interrupted an officer at the next table. "I couldn't help overhearing."He handed Frank a copy of theTimes, pointing to a paragraph half-way down a column headed "New V.C.'s." Frank looked, flushed, and passed the paper silently to his father."Read it out, sir," cried Tomlinson.Mr. Forester rubbed his glasses, and had some trouble in clearing his throat. He mumbled a word or two, then, more distinctly, read:"For signal bravery in volunteering twice to locate an enemy battery, and enabling our naval guns to destroy it ... had already shown conspicuous proofs of courage and resource.""And that's all they say about it!" Tomlinson exclaimed. "Is it D.S.O., sir?""It appears to be V.C.," said Mr. Forester."Hurray!" cried Tomlinson, flinging up his cap. "That's news to carry back to Anzac."At this moment, from somewhere outside came the strains of a band."Ah! It couldn't have come in more pat," added Tomlinson.The officers stood at the salute as the band played "God save the King."THE ENDPRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY AND SONS, LTD.,BRUNSWICK STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E., AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.* * * * * * * *HERBERT STRANG'S WAR STORIESFIGHTING WITH FRENCH: A TALE OF THE NEW ARMY.A HERO OF LIÉGE: A STORY OF THE GREAT WAR.SULTAN JIM: A STORY OF GERMAN AGGRESSION.THE AIR SCOUT: A STORY OF HOME DEFENCE.THE AIR PATROL: A STORY OF THE NORTH-WEST FRONTIER.ROB THE RANGER: A STORY OF THE GREAT FIGHT FOR CANADA.ONE OF CLIVE'S HEROES: A STORY OF THE GREAT FIGHT FOR INDIA.BARCLAY OF THE GUIDES: A STORY OF THE INDIAN MUTINY.THE ADVENTURES OF HARRY ROCHESTER: A STORY OF MARLBOROUGH'S CAMPAIGNS.BOYS OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE: A STORY OF THE PENINSULAR WAR.KOBO: A STORY OF THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR.BROWN OF MOUKDEN: A STORY OF THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR.*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKFRANK FORESTER***
CHAPTER XXIV
V.C.
Two months later a little party were lunching together in a hotel on one of the Ægean islands. Mr. Forester was there; Isaac Copri and his son; Tomlinson, promoted lieutenant, and enjoying a week's leave; and Frank. The last had his right arm in a sling.
"Yes," the elder Kopri was saying, "Mirza Aga's carpet is now on its way to London. I contrived to get it shipped at Athens, and it is on the bill of lading of the steamshipEirene, that left the Peiraeus a week ago."
"Splendid!" said Frank. "I must find out where Wonckhaus is imprisoned, and let him know. His fury will be my revenge.... I hope you didn't wait long for me at Gallipoli."
"I waited until I gave up all hope of seeing you again. We searched the ruins of Benidin's house, Joseph and I, for traces of you, and stayed in the port two or three days in case you should appear. Then we heard that the massacres had broken out, and we escaped to Dedeagatch, just in time."
"How did you get your wounds, sir?" asked Joseph.
"Oh! I was just potted in a gully."
Tomlinson laughed.
"Strictly true, but hopelessly inadequate," he said. "It was like this."
"Dry up, Tommy; it's an old story now."
"All the better, like this port."
"Well, bottle it up, then."
"I should like to hear the full story, Mr. Tomlinson," said Mr. Forester. "Frank has told me little more than the bare fact."
"There you are, Frank. You want uncorking. Well, when Frank came back to the peninsula I didn't see him for a while. He was interpreting; a soft job, by all accounts, for the Turkish prisoners are very reticent. But the battery on Sari Bair began to be very troublesome, and our fliers couldn't locate it. Frank offered to have a shot, and crept up the gully one night, in rags borrowed from a prisoner; you wouldn't have known him. He spotted the guns overlaid with scrub near that sepulchre of his, reported next morning, and offered to go up again and set light to the hollow tree, as a beacon for our gunners. If that didn't deserve the D.S.O.--well, I know what Anzac thinks."
"Cut it short, man. I knew the place, and if the Turks had seen me they'd have taken me for a ghost and skedaddled."
"The fellow who potted you didn't take you for a ghost, anyway. He went up, sir, with a lot of pills in his pocket--small incendiary bombs, you know; fired the tree and the brushwood round, and made a fine old blaze, by the light of which somebody gave him two bullets in the arm as he was running down the gully. Our guns got the range in a few minutes--and we've had no more trouble from that particular battery. I tell you, all Anzac was mad with delight, and carried Frank round the camp cheering like----"
"Have you seen this?" interrupted an officer at the next table. "I couldn't help overhearing."
He handed Frank a copy of theTimes, pointing to a paragraph half-way down a column headed "New V.C.'s." Frank looked, flushed, and passed the paper silently to his father.
"Read it out, sir," cried Tomlinson.
Mr. Forester rubbed his glasses, and had some trouble in clearing his throat. He mumbled a word or two, then, more distinctly, read:
"For signal bravery in volunteering twice to locate an enemy battery, and enabling our naval guns to destroy it ... had already shown conspicuous proofs of courage and resource."
"And that's all they say about it!" Tomlinson exclaimed. "Is it D.S.O., sir?"
"It appears to be V.C.," said Mr. Forester.
"Hurray!" cried Tomlinson, flinging up his cap. "That's news to carry back to Anzac."
At this moment, from somewhere outside came the strains of a band.
"Ah! It couldn't have come in more pat," added Tomlinson.
The officers stood at the salute as the band played "God save the King."
THE END
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY AND SONS, LTD.,BRUNSWICK STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E., AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.
* * * * * * * *
HERBERT STRANG'S WAR STORIES
FIGHTING WITH FRENCH: A TALE OF THE NEW ARMY.
A HERO OF LIÉGE: A STORY OF THE GREAT WAR.
SULTAN JIM: A STORY OF GERMAN AGGRESSION.
THE AIR SCOUT: A STORY OF HOME DEFENCE.
THE AIR PATROL: A STORY OF THE NORTH-WEST FRONTIER.
ROB THE RANGER: A STORY OF THE GREAT FIGHT FOR CANADA.
ONE OF CLIVE'S HEROES: A STORY OF THE GREAT FIGHT FOR INDIA.
BARCLAY OF THE GUIDES: A STORY OF THE INDIAN MUTINY.
THE ADVENTURES OF HARRY ROCHESTER: A STORY OF MARLBOROUGH'S CAMPAIGNS.
BOYS OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE: A STORY OF THE PENINSULAR WAR.
KOBO: A STORY OF THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR.
BROWN OF MOUKDEN: A STORY OF THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR.
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKFRANK FORESTER***