A sentry came to attention as they passed in, sloped arms, and saluted.
Peter stared at him.

"You ought to take the salute, padre," said Jenks; "you're senior to me, you know." They passed down a regular street of huts, most of which had little patches of garden before them in which the green of some early spring flowers was already showing, and stopped before the orderly-room.

Jenks said he would look in and see if "the skipper" were inside, and in a second or two came out with a red-faced, cheerful-looking man, whom he introduced as Captain Harold.

With them was a tall young Scots officer in a kilt, whom Peter learned was Lieutenant Mackay of their mess.
"Glad to see you, padre," said Harold.

"Our last man wasn't up to much, and Jenks says you're a sport.