Henriette and Helen were left to follow, as the vicar and his wife took possession of Phil.
"Oh, we've heard all about it from Henriette!" said Mrs. Sanford. "And—and I must confess that what I particularly liked was the way that you knocked that beast of a Prussian down."
"Yes," said the vicar, stiffening out of his usual stoop and stopping. "But what was it? I am very curious. Er—I boxed a little myself when I was young. Just a straight lead with the right?"
"No," said Phil, turning and holding up his finger at Henriette. "I've a bone to pick with you for telling!"
"Later!" she smiled back.
"If not a straight lead with the right, what was it?" persisted the vicar.
"An upper cut to the jaw!" Phil murmured awkwardly.
"Very effectual, always!" replied the vicar. "Now, he was standing about like this, and you ducked like this to let his blow by?"
"My dear, this is positively shocking!" gasped his wife, mindful that they were in the village street at the time.
"Then you gave it to him like this——" and there the vicar of Truckleford brought his fist up in correct fashion and pressed it against the correct section of Phil's physiognomy. "Exactly!" he concluded, chuckling. "I remember once I used it in a little row—before I had taken orders, my dear, before I had taken orders!"