"I believe he died shortly afterwards. Well! well! Kill or cure! Kill or cure!"
The widow flashed her white shoulders in an elaborate shudder.
"Talking of kill or cure," exclaimed the Major, jumping up, "did I ever repeat my tale of the Hessian captain?"
"Probably," said Mr. Moon mildly.
"What do you mean, sir?"
"You are somewhat inclined to repetition, sir."
Mrs. Courteen hurriedly assured Major Tarry that she for one had positively never heard it.
"He did not say 'have you heard my story, ma'am,' the Justice went on in the calm voice of despair. "He said 'have I repeated it?' I merely remarked that he probably has—dozens of times!"—Mr. Moon burst out in the nearest approach to a passionate enunciation that he ever attained.
"I vow you do him an injustice. Pray tell us the story, Major," and the widow tapped the sword-arm of the infuriated soldier three times. The painted chicken-skin fell with so persuasive a touch that the Apple sank to its normal position and, having turned his back on Mr. Moon, the Major began his tale.
"Well, Madam, you must know that in the year ... but before I tell this story, I should like to give you some idea of the disposition of his Majesty's forces."