“Yes, sir! in whisperings and mutterings! But you know how sharp my ears are, sir! and I used them and heard enough to feel sure that the great Monck’s band are what they call disinfected.”
“Disaffected, you mean, my boy.”
“Well, sir, disaffected, if that means that they have taken a misliking to their commander.”
“It means something of the sort, if it is true, Hay,” said his colonel.
They strolled on, and passed through a broken gate into the old garden, where they came upon Wing, standing among the bushes, and gazing in a meditative manner upon a bunch of pale, autumn roses he had just gathered.
“A penny for your thoughts, my boy,” said Colonel Rosenthal, kindly.
“They are not worth the penny, sir. I was only thinking of these pale roses trying to bloom in the frosty air; how like they are to human hopes trying still to keep alive in the midst of cold and killing disappointment and despair.”
“The roses will bloom again in spring, and hope revive again in heaven, Wing,” said Colonel Rosenthal, laying his hand kindly on the boy’s head.
After that the three strolled on together for a while and then separated, each going his own way.
At noon Colonel Rosenthal, according to his promise, returned to the house, to report himself. He went straight to his quarters, where he found Wing and Hay also waiting; and where they were soon after joined by Captain Bannister.