“Not this morning, Lomax,” cried Mercer.
“Going for a walk, then?”
“Only as far as here,” I replied, looking at him merrily.
“Eh? What? Why, hallo!” he cried. “I didn’t know. They said you were under punishment for something, but I didn’t know what. Why, yes: both of you. Look at your eyes. You’ve been fighting!”
I nodded, and Mercer laughed.
“We’ve come to tell you all about it.”
Lomax drove his spade down into the ground and left it standing in the bed.
“Here, come along,” he cried excitedly, and he led the way into the lodge, placed chairs for us, and re-lit his pipe, before standing smoking with his back to the fire. “Now then,” he cried, “let’s have it.”
We described our encounter, and the old soldier laughed and chuckled with satisfaction.
“Yes, that’s it,” he cried, as we came to an end, first one and then the other carrying on the thread of the narration to the conclusion. “That’s science; that is just the same as with a well-drilled regiment, which can beat a mob of fifty times its size. Well, I’m glad you won, and were such good pupils. Shows you remembered all I taught you. Now take my advice, both of you. Don’t you fight again till you are regularly obliged.”