“Now then, off with that coat, sir,” said Burr major, as he began rolling up his shirt over his thin white arms. “I’m not going to wait all day. The bell will ring for dinner directly. Hold my clothes, one of you; I don’t want them dirty.”
I saw Mercer set his teeth as he pulled off his jacket and vest, and he pitched them both into the big bin, looking very stubborn and determined the while.
“Here, Dicksee, you come and second me, I’ll second you afterward. You new boy, you’d better second old Senna. Pah! how physicky he smells!”
I had the vaguest notions of what I had to do, but I imitated Dicksee as well as I could, as the boys stood on one side breathless with excitement, and Burr major and Mercer faced each other with their fists clenched.
Then there was a due amount of sparring, followed by a few blows given and taken, and Burr major drew back and sat down on Dicksee’s knee, Mercer taking his place on mine.
“Did he hurt you much?” I whispered.
“Horrid,” was whispered back, “and I can’t half get to hit at him.”
Then some one shouted, and they fought again, with the result that my blood seemed to boil as poor Mercer came staggering back.
“Had enough?” said Burr major in lofty tones.
For answer Mercer flew at him, and there was another long, fierce round, which seemed to consist in Mercer’s adversary driving him about the place, knocking him about just as much as he liked, and ending by sending him staggering back, so that he would have fallen all in a heap had I not caught him in my arms.