“No, no,” I said, “but if I enlist now on your side, will you join me in a siege afterwards?”
“Siege? what the deuce? Why don’t you speak plain, sir?”
“Well,” I said, “I mean about—about—a certain young lady at the Priory, you know.”
“Confound your thick head, sir. Why, if you had had an ounce of brains, you could have seen what I meant, and—”
“Bang, bang!” from the wood.
“Forward,” shouted my uncle, and crossing a small open field, we entered the Spinney.
Now, if I were to say that I was brave, the assertion would be a fib, for I possess but few of the qualifications for making a good soldier; but all the same, as we pushed our way in that night amongst the thick hazel stubs, I felt a sort of tingly sensation in my arm, which made me grasp my weapon more tightly, and feel as if I wished there was something to hit.
“Keep your eyes well open, Dick,” whispered my uncle, “and if you come across a tall thin squinting rascal with his nose on one side, mind, that’s Ruddle’s. Fell him to the ground in an instant, sir. No mercy: capture him as you love me, and if you do take the scoundrel, you shall have another cool thousand down on your wedding morning.”
“And if I don’t?” I whispered.
“Hold your tongue, you dog, and don’t talk nonsense.”