"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 virtue had so often derived its encouragement and wrongdoing its reproof? Was this the figure the ladies of Troy had been wont to follow with all but idolatrous gaze? Nay, who was this man—unshaven, unkempt, unbewigged, smeared with mud from head to foot, and from scalp to jaw with commingling bloodstains? The Major groaned incredulous, horrified; gazed, shuddered, and groaned again.
"Mind you," said Mr. Sturge reassuringly, "I'm not calling the truth of your story into question for a moment. But under the circumstances you'll allow it was a trifle stiff."
"It is true to the last particular," insisted the Major, recovering his dignity.
"But come, now! Without a penny in your pocket, or so much as a scrap of paper to identify you, you'll admit it was stiff? Look here," he went on with a change of tone, slipping his arm amicably within the Major's, "I've an idea. Comrades in adversity, you know, and all that sort of thing. I've taken a liking to you, and can do you a good turn. Drop that yarn of yours—'yarn,' seafaring expression; odd how one catches the colour, so to speak. Drop that yarn of yours. You're one of us, understand? The Captain'll believe that; indeed, he believes it already—called you a damned low-comedy man in my hearing. Very well; soon as we anchor off Spithead, he outs with a boat and lands us ashore. I have his solemn promise. Leave me to square that bos'n fellow—Jope, or whatever he calls himself—and the job's as good as done."
"And do you seriously propose," interrupted the Major, folding his arms, "that I should pass myself off for a play-actor? Never, sir; never!"
"Why not?" asked Mr. Sturge easily.
"I forbear, sir, to wound your feelings by explaining why your suggestion is repugnant to me. Let it suffice that I detest deceit, subterfuge, equivocation; or, if that suffice not, let me ask if you do not propose, on reaching shore, to institute legal proceedings against this petty tyrant?"
"Probably."
"Why, then, and how much more reparation does he not owe me, a Justice of the Peace? Nay, sir, he shall pay me damages for this kidnapping; but he has not stopped short there. He has used language to me which can only be wiped out in blood. My first business on stepping ashore will be to seek someone through whom I can convey my demand for satisfaction. With what face, think you, could I present this cartel if my own behaviour had been other than correct?"