"What fur why?" whimpered Blob.
"Teach you!" cried the Parson. "Want some more, eh? Then behave yourself. I'm sick o your nonsense."
He reached up to the rafter.
"Eat and sleep—that's the whole duty of man just at present. Blob, take Piper his rations, and ask him to forgive an old soldier who's a bit short in the temper in action—and do the same yourself, my boy. Here, Kit."
They snatched a hasty meal.
Outside the dusk was falling.
The Parson brushed the crumbs off his cravat.
"And now will you take first watch, or shall I?"
"I will, sir. I don't feel like sleep."
"Very well. Wake me when the moon dips behind the Downs, or earlier if there's a sign of the soldiers."