As the men disengaged the stiffened hand something slipped from the waistcoat to the ground.

The corporal picked it up and handed it to his officer.

It was a sealed packet.

The officer received it with the carelessness which long experience of these pathetic missives from the dying to their living relations had induced, and dropped it in the pocket of his tunic, with the half-dozen others that he had picked up that morning, and moved on with the detail.

A little further on they halted, in the attitude of attention, as a mounted officer appeared, riding slowly down the line.
There was something more than the habitual respect of their superior in their faces as he came forward.