"'It's mutual,' says I. 'And if you've quite done posing won't you step ashore and let us consummate our joy? A sweet stretch of sand, and a lovely light.'
"Pon my soul for a moment I thought he would. Then,
"'I can't to-day, bad cess to it,' says he. 'Tell you the truth I'm in the devil's own hurry. Got an interview with his Sacred Majesty, our noble Emperor, whom may Heaven preserve, at twelve noon to-morrow. And if I don't keep it, I stand to lose a lot o little things—my head among em. I'm in disgrace, you see—always have been from a child!'
"He lifts his sword to his lips, quite the play-actor.
"'But here's to our next merry meeting, sir.'
"'And may it be soon, Monsieur le Poseur,' says I, answering his salute.
"And it's proved sooner than either of us expected. There's he: here'm
I. One side this wall the first light cavalryman in Europe, 'tother—
Harry Joy, ex-Captain of British infantry. Now we've got to see which
is the better man."
He squared his shoulders.
Whoever else might find the situation unsatisfactory it was not Parson
Joy.