the twenty-fifth
instant,--we march out--bag and baggage--horse, foot, and artillery,--we
evacuate our position--in face of superior force,--for good and
all, comrade."

"Is that so, shipmate?"

"It's rough on you, Peterday--it's hard on you, I'll admit, but things
were said, comrade--relative to--business troubles of one as we both
respect, Peterday,--things was said as called for--beer down the
neck,--and running out into the road, comrade. But it's rough on you,
Peterday seeing as you--like the Hussars at Assuan--was never engaged,
so to speak."

"Aye, aye, Shipmate, that does ketch me,--all aback, shipmate. Why Lord!
I'd give a pound,--two pound--ah, ten!--just to have been astarn of him
wi' a rope's end,--though--come to think of it I'd ha' preferred a
capstan-bar."

"Peterday," said the Sergeant removing his gaze from the wall with a
jerk, "on the twenty-fifth instant we shall be--without a roof to cover
us, and--all my doing. Peterday--what have you to say about it?"

"Say, messmate,--why that you and me, honouring, and respecting two
ladies as deserves to be honoured, and respected, ain't going to let
such a small thing as this here cottage come betwixt us, and our
honouring and respecting of them two ladies. If, therefore, we are due
to quit this anchorage, why then it's all hands to the windlass with a
heave yo ho, and merrily! say I. Messmate,--my fist!" Hereupon, with a
very jerky movement indeed, the Sergeant reached out his remaining arm,
and the soldier and the sailor shook hands very solemnly over the
muffins (already vastly diminished in number) with a grip that
spoke much.

"Peterday,--you have lifted a load off my heart--I thank ye
comrade,--and spoke like a true soldier. Peterday--the muffins!"

So now the Sergeant, himself once more, fell to in turn, and they ate,
and drank, and laughed, and talked, until the shrimps were all gone, and
the muffins were things of the past.

And now, declining all Bellew's offers of assistance, the soldier and
the sailor began washing, and drying, and putting away their crockery,
each in his characteristic manner,--the Sergeant very careful and exact,
while the sailor juggled cups and saucers with the sure-handed deftness
that seems peculiar to nautical fingers.

"Yes, Peterday," said the Sergeant, hanging each cup upon its appointed
nail, and setting each saucer solicitously in the space reserved for it
on the small dresser, "since you have took our marc