“Oh, Lom!” cried Mercer excitedly. “But when are they coming down?”
“They are down. Didn’t you see?”
“No, I didn’t see.”
“They were in the carpet-bag,” I cried. “Oh, do let’s look!”
“No, not to-day, my lads. They’re all right, and if you like to get up to-morrow morning and come to me at five o’clock, I’ll give you your first lesson. Now I must go and report myself to the Doctor, or he’ll be drumming me out of the regiment for not doing my work.”
He saluted us and marched off, while we went round to the back and made our way to the stables and up into the loft, for Mercer to have a peep at the ferret, which tried hard to get out. Then, closing the slate down close, he spun round, cut a caper, struck an attitude, and began sparring and dancing round me in the most absurd manner.
“Oh, only wait!” he cried, pausing to take breath. “I do feel so glad! But, I say, we mustn’t have that ferret there. I know. I’ll put it in the bin, watering-pot and all, or it’ll either get out, or some of the boys’ll come and look, and let it go.”
“But you haven’t got the key.”
“I forgot. I didn’t get it from old Magg, again. Let’s go and find him. No, it’s all right. He has put it in the padlock.”
The bin was thrown open; but the pot was not placed therein, for Mercer remembered a box with a lid, which, as he expressed it, lived in there, and it was emptied and brought forth.