“Mean, sir?” I said, feeling quite as excited as himself. “Well, sir, if you ask me, I say that if it was in time of peace and quiet, it would only mean that it was a bit of his black— I beg your pardon, captain,” I says, stopping short, for, you see, it was quite time.
“Go on, Smith,” he said quietly.
“His black impudence, sir.”
“But, as it is not in time of peace and quiet, Smith?” he said, looking me through and through.
“Well, sir,” I said, “I don’t want to croak, nor for other people to believe what I say; but it seems to me that that black fellow’s kicking out of the ranks means a good deal; and I take it that he is excited with the news that he has somehow got hold of—news that is getting into his head like so much green ’rack. I’ve thought of it some little time now, sir; and—it strikes me that if, instead of our short company being Englishmen, they were all Chunder Chows, before to-morrow morning, begging your pardon, Captain Dyer and Lieutenant Leigh would have said ‘Right wheel’ for the last time.”
“And the women and children!” he muttered softly: but I heard him.
He did not speak then for quite half a minute, when he turned to me with a pleasant smile.
“But you see, though, Smith,” he said, “our short company is made up of different stuff; and therefore there’s some hope for us yet; but—Ah, Leigh, did you hear what he said?”
“Yes,” said the lieutenant, who had been standing at the door for a few moments, scowling at us both.
“Well, what do you think?” said Captain Dyer.