Those that passed and repassed us were mostly artillery and infantry, and surely in all the world before there never were such regiments as those--with the paint worn off their cannon, and their clothes soiled, yet with an air about them of successful plunderers, confident to the last degree of arrogance in their own efficiency--not at all like British regiments, nor like any others that I ever saw.

It was Ranjoor Singh who drew my attention to the fact that regiments passing us in one direction would often pass us again on their way back, sometimes within the day.
"As shuttles in a loom!" said he.

"As long as they can do that they can fight on a dozen fronts." His words set me wondering so that I did not answer him.

He was speaking through our carriage window and I stared out beyond him at a train-load of troops on the far side of the station.
"One comes to us," said I.I was watching a German sergeant, who had dragged his belongings from that train and was crossing toward us.
"Aye!" said Ranjoor Singh, so that I knew now there had been purpose in his visit.

"Beware of him." Then he unlocked the carriage door and waited for the German.