"Now, boys, tell the men to smoke a couple of pipes, and then to lie down
to sleep. In the morning each man can put as much tobacco into his
knapsack and pockets as they will hold, and when we halt they can give
some of it away to regiments that have not been as lucky as themselves."
The men sat down in the highest state of satisfaction. Boxes of cigars
were broken open, and in a couple of minutes almost every man and officer
in the regiment had one alight in his mouth. There were few, however, who
got beyond one cigar; the warmth of the place after their long march in
the snow speedily had its effect, and in half an hour silence reigned in
the factory, save for a murmur of voices in one of the lower rooms where
the officers were located.
"O'Grady, you are a broth of a boy," the colonel said. "The men have
scarce had a smoke for the last week, and it will do them a world of good.
We have got them all under one roof, and there is no fear that anyone will
want to get out, and they will fall in in the morning as fresh as paint.
Half an hour before bugle-call three or four of you had best turn out with
a dozen men, and roll up enough barrels from the vaults to give them the
drink promised to them, before starting. Who will volunteer?"
Half a dozen officers at once offered to go, and a captain and three
lieutenants were told off for the work.
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