We stood shivering, the rain making pools at our feet that spread and became one.

So I made the men mark time and abused them roundly for being slack about it, they grumbling greatly because our prisoner was marched away to shelter, whereas we must stand without.
I bullied them as much as I dared, and we stamped the road into a veritable quagmire, as builders tread mud for making sun-dried bricks, so that when three-quarters of an hour had passed and a man came running back with a message from Ranjoor Singh there was a little warmth in us.

I did not need to use force to get the column started.
"Come!" said the trooper.

"There is food, and shelter, and who knows what else!" So we went best foot first along the road, feeling less than half as hungry and not weak at all, now that we knew food was almost within reach.

Truly a man's desires are the vainest part of him.