"Well, you can't help admiring the nerve of the chap," he muttered, half to himself. "Forcing his way on to the Rock—why, he might as well put his head in a cannon's mouth."
"I haven't time to admire," the general said shortly. "Thing to do is to act."
"Quite right. Nineteen-seven, eh? Um" He paused before the portrait of a young woman in a Gainsborough hat and with a sparkling piquant face. "By George, General, why not try him on Lady Evelyn? There's a fair test for you, now !"
"You mean Craigen's wife?" The general looked up at the portrait quizzically. "Skeleton's bones. Bishop."
"Right; but no man who ever saw her could forget. I know I never can. Poor Craigen!"
"Good idea, though," the older man acquiesced. "We'll trip him on Lady Evelyn."
Jaimihr Khan appeared at the double doors. "The general sahib's orderly," he announced. The young subaltern entered and saluted.
"That young man, General Crandall, the one Sergeant Crosby was to escort out of the lines to Algeciras"
"Well, what of him? He's gone, I hope."
