he troupe, I
suppose? Comic Irishman and that sort of thing, hey?"

"I assure you, sir--"

"And I assure _you_, sir, that if you come the funny dog over me,
I'll have you up to the gratings in two shakes of a duck's tail, and
tickle your funny ribs with three dozen of the best. Understand?"
The Captain paused, trembling with rage. "Understand, hey, you
'--' little barnstorming son of a '--'? Made a mistake, have I?
Cut your capers at my expense, would you, you little baldheaded runt?
By '--' if you pull another face at me, sir, you shall caper off the
yardarm, sir; on a string, sir; high as Haman, sir! I hope, sir,"
wound up Captain Crang, recovering his calm, "that on this point, at
any rate, I have left no room for misunderstanding."

It will excite no wonder that Mr. Sturge found the Major somewhat
irresponsive to his own jubilant mood.

"I should soon get used to this life," he repeated. "There's a
spirit in it--a breeziness, I may call it--which is positively
infectious. You don't find it so?"

"I do not," the Major confessed.

Mr. Sturge pointed his toe and seemed about to execute the first
steps of a hornpipe, but checked himself.

"Rough tongue, the Captain's?" he queried.

The Major swallowed a lump in his throat but did not answer.

"Hasty temper. Under the circumstances, we may make some little
excuse, perhaps."

"I prefer not to discuss it. The man has insulted me."

"His bark is worse than his bite, I find," said Mr. Sturge
complacently. "And, after all, the moment you chose was not
precisely opportune--was it, now?"

"I am not used, sir, to have my word doubted by any man."

"Well, but--appearances considered--you pitched it pretty strong, eh?
Local magnate, and that sort of thing . . . it _did_ seem like taking
advantage of his condition."

"Advantage? Appearances? What do you mean, sir?"

The Major turned resentfully, and at the same instant recollected
that he wore no wig. He blushed, His hand went up to his scalp.

"Makes a difference," said Mr. Sturge. "Allow me." He drew from the
breast of his shirt a small pocket mirror. "I carry it always.
Useful--tittivate myself--in the wings."

"The wings?" echoed the Major dully, taking the glass. He gazed into
it and started back with a cry.

What an image was there confronting him! Was this the face of Troy's
Chief Magistrate? (forgive the blank verse). Were these the
features--was this the aspect--from which virtu