"Yet you got out in the draft."
"I knew my drill. It's a long story."
"It must be! You've been bribing the sergeants, or somebody; but I don't blame you for that. Try to keep the nipple covered," said the zealous officer, returning the piece. "Why the devil did you choose my regiment?" whispered Ralph.
"It was the night the news came of the Alma—and—I hoped you were killed!"
"No wonder." Ralph chuckled harshly.
"It was one to me; but I couldn't help it, and I felt in every other battle it would be the same. So I enlisted that night."
"To make sure, eh?" sneered Ralph.
"To run your risks!" said Denis through his teeth. "The chances are that one of us will go back. The chances are less that we both will!"
The rain took up the whispering for the next few seconds.
"I see!" said Ralph at length. "The latest thing in duels! Well, my congratulations must keep till next round." And he marched on nonchalantly enough, with a final chuckle for Denis's salute; but the note was neither so harsh nor so spontaneous as before; and Denis was left to glory in his last words, to regret them, and yet to glory in them again.