It's the
silences
that hurt.
Kipling - Poems
The clank of bayonets being
unfixed made Dick's nostrils quiver.
"Let's get nearer. They're in column, aren't they? "
"Yes. How did you know? "
"Felt it. Oh, my men! --my beautiful men! " He edged forward as though he
could see. "I could draw those chaps once. Who'll draw 'em now? "
"They'll move off in a minute. Don't jump when the band begins. "
"Huh! I'm not a new charger.
It's the silences that hurt. Nearer,
Torp! --nearer! Oh, my God, what wouldn't I give to see 'em for a
minute! --one half-minute! "
He could hear the armed life almost within reach of him, could hear the
slings tighten across the bandsman's chest as he heaved the big drum
from the ground.
"Sticks crossed above his head," whispered Torpenhow.
"I know. I know! Who should know if I don't? H'sh! "
The drum-sticks fell with a boom, and the men swung forward to the crash
of the band. Dick felt the wind of the massed movement in his face,
heard the maddening tramp of feet and the friction of the pouches on the
belts. The big drum pounded out the tune. It was a music-hall refrain
that made a perfect quickstep--
"He must be a man of decent height,
He must be a man of weight,
He must come home on a Saturday night
In a thoroughly sober state;
He must know how to love me,
And he must know how to kiss;
And if he's enough to keep us both
I can't refuse him bliss. "
"What's the matter?
unfixed made Dick's nostrils quiver.
"Let's get nearer. They're in column, aren't they? "
"Yes. How did you know? "
"Felt it. Oh, my men! --my beautiful men! " He edged forward as though he
could see. "I could draw those chaps once. Who'll draw 'em now? "
"They'll move off in a minute. Don't jump when the band begins. "
"Huh! I'm not a new charger.
It's the silences that hurt. Nearer,
Torp! --nearer! Oh, my God, what wouldn't I give to see 'em for a
minute! --one half-minute! "
He could hear the armed life almost within reach of him, could hear the
slings tighten across the bandsman's chest as he heaved the big drum
from the ground.
"Sticks crossed above his head," whispered Torpenhow.
"I know. I know! Who should know if I don't? H'sh! "
The drum-sticks fell with a boom, and the men swung forward to the crash
of the band. Dick felt the wind of the massed movement in his face,
heard the maddening tramp of feet and the friction of the pouches on the
belts. The big drum pounded out the tune. It was a music-hall refrain
that made a perfect quickstep--
"He must be a man of decent height,
He must be a man of weight,
He must come home on a Saturday night
In a thoroughly sober state;
He must know how to love me,
And he must know how to kiss;
And if he's enough to keep us both
I can't refuse him bliss. "
"What's the matter?
