her figure in china,
the figure of a man in a red coat with a hooked nose and two curves of
black whisker on his cheeks, underneath which was written WELLINGTON.

"Aye," said old Sally, triumphantly, "that was the boy to give Boney
what vor. And now here's the wreaths, my dears, tied with the family
colours, blue and white. I've a had they ribbins forty years, ever
since the great election, when Bracefort was head of the poll, your
grandfather that was. And now you'm going to catch the old Billy Pitt,
I reckon; dear, dear, to think that the horse should still be here and
the captain gone."

"But the Lieutenant's come back," said the Corporal. "Colonel
Fitzdenys, I should say, whom I mind as the captain's lieutenant; come
back only yesterday safe and sound from the Injies."

"That's well," said Sally, "for a fine brave gentleman he is, as never
passes me without a kind word. But don't 'ee go yet for a minute, my
dears," and she hobbled away to a large glass bottle, took out two
sticks of toffee, such as she sold to the village boys for a halfpenny
a piece, and gave them to Dick and Elsie.

The children took them gratefully, for it was little sweet stuff that
children got in those days; and old Sally watched them as they went up
the road, each of them breaking off a large piece for the Corporal.

They had not long been gone when a new and strange figure suddenly
bounded into the road from the bank at the side. It was that of a
young man who seemed to be about five and twenty, short in stature and
slight in figure, and dressed in a long skirted coat, breeches and
gaiters, which were all alike full of rents and patches. He wore no
hat, but his head was so thickly covered by a shock of brown hair that
he did not seem to want one. His face was brown and sunburnt and
partly covered by a fair downy beard, which, though not thick, added to
his wild and untidy appearance; and his eyes were very large, grey and
vacant. He sprang down from the bank as though he had lived there all
his life, like a rabbit, and then moved on towards the village at a
strange shambling pace, straying from side to side of the road and
waving his arms meaninglessly. Suddenly he stopped, and pulling a
squirrel out of his pocket began to play with it, cooing and whistling
to it as it ran over his arms, and chirping when it stopped and threw
its tail over its back. The two seemed to be the very best of friends,
and after playing for some tim