The ordeal was soon passed; for, as Wyatt said, “One doesn’t like to be interfering with the men in their easy times. But what do you think of our lads, Darrell?”
“Splendid!” cried the boy enthusiastically. “You’re right; they are picked men.”
“Yes, they are,” said Wyatt.—“Eh, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir. I often wish we could ride into Hyde Park with them on a review day. I think we could make the Londoners give us a cheer. Beg pardon, sir, but some of ’em seemed to like the look of Mr Darrell here.”
“Think so?”
“Yes, sir; set some of ’em thinking, as it did me!”
“Set you thinking?” said Wyatt.
“Yes, sir; about when we were young as he is, sir. Hah! it’s a good many years since, though.—When will you be ready to begin, sir?” he added quickly, for he detected a look of annoyance at the turn the conversation was taking.
“To-morrow morning?” said Dick sharply. “Will that do?”
“Yes, sir; the sooner the better. Riding-school half-an-hour after reveille, please. Like to see the riding-school, sir?”