The Colonel laughed, his whole body shaking.
'Well, your next orders should be more to your liking, anyway.'
'Why?'
'My dear chap—he was all ready to make you the scapegoat. Suddenly you succeed in doing what he thought was impossible. He'll make sure he gets the credit in London— that's the prerogative of a Commander-in-Chief. But he'll be .anxious to make sure that no one saw through his little scheme. And in case you had any suspicions you can be sure he'll give you new orders that'll leave you happy—and grate full'
'I hope you're right, sir.'
'Well, I suppose we'd better be getting up the hill to tell Sir Jason his Golden Fleece is safe from moths and freebooters.'
'I was wondering------'
'I have the letter here,' Wilson interrupted, opening a drawer. 'She's well and still staying with us. I don't think she's had a proper night's sleep, worrying and fretting, but the minute your armada was sighted I sent word to her.'
He slid the letter across to Ramage who looked at it nervously.
'I should open it,' Wilson said banteringly offering him a paper-knife, 'it won't explode.'