130 The Light That Failed “I know,” he said very gravely. “I was always glad that you left it out.” “T left it out because Nilghai taught me what the Germany army learned then, and what Schmidt taught their cavalry. I don’t know German. What is it? “Take care of the time and the dressing will take care of itself.’ I must ride my own line to my own beat, old man.” “Tempe ist richtung. You've learned your lesson well,” said the Nilghai. “He must go alone. He speaks truth, Torp.” “Maybe I’m as wrong as I can be — hideously wrong. I must find that out for myself, as I have to think things out for myself, but I daren’t turn my head to dress by the next man. It hurts me a great deal more than you know not to be able to go, but I cannot, that’s all. I must do my own work and live my own life in my own way, because I’m responsible for both. Only don’t think I frivol about it, Torp. I have my own matches and sulfur, and I’ll make my own hell, thanks.” There was an uncomfortable pause. Then Torpenhow said blandly, “What did the Governor of North Carolina say to the Governor of South Carolina?” “Excellent notion. It zs a long time between drinks. There are the makings of a very fine prig in you, Dick,” said the Nilghai. “T’ve liberated my mind, estimable Binkie, with the feathers in his mouth.” Dick picked up the still indignant one and shook him tenderly. “You're tied up in a sack and made to run about blind, Binkie-wee, without any reason, and it has hurt your little feelings. Never mind. Sic volo, sic jubeo, stet pro ratione voluntas, and don’t sneeze in my eye because I talk Latin. Goodnight.” He went out of the room. “That’s distinctly one for you,” said the Nilghai. “I told you it was hopeless to meddle with him. He’s not