“But are we to let that brother of mine insult his majesty’s troops?”
“We can afford to treat it with contempt,” said Scarlett, solemnly, though Nat’s words and allusions made him feel disposed to laugh.
“But I want to treat it to a big leathering, Master Scar. Here, sir, mayn’t I ride after him and fetch him off his horse?”
“No; certainly not.”
“But, Master Scar, what could your father be thinking of? Here had we got three of the ugliest Philistines in Coombeland in our hand, and we’ve let ’em go to blight and freeze and blast everything. What could Sir Godfrey be thinking about?”
“Nat.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know what is a soldier’s first duty?”
“To fight, sir.”
“No: to obey orders.”