"Alf. Insultin her and me. Met him just along back there in Meads by the Ship."
"Go easy, Caspar," said the Colonel quietly. "I remember that left-handed punch of yours of old. It's a good punch too; but keep it for the enemies of your country."
Ernie was hugging a big biscuit-box under his arm.
"What you got there?" asked the other.
Ernie grinned a thought sheepishly.
"It's Joe's birthday," he said. "We are having a bit of a do under the cliff."
He hovered a moment as though about to impart a confidence to the other; and then disappeared down the little track to the beach beneath at the trot, his shoulders back, and heels digging in, carrying a slither of chalk with him.
"'Come into my parlour,' said the spider to the fly," muttered the Colonel as he turned into Undercliff. "Poor fly!"