“What do I mean? Why, to make you take off that coat of armour on the spot. Well, no, I can’t do that, because you aren’t got nothing else to wear. Well, never mind; you must go as you are.”
“Oh yes, Serge, never mind about the armour; I’ll go as I am. But gather your things together—that bundle of yours.”
“How did you know I’d got a bundle?” said the old soldier, suspiciously.
“I have seen you carrying it day after day.”
“What! You’ve seen me day after day?”
“Oh yes. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I have often seen you right in front.”
“Worse and worse!” cried the old soldier, angrily. “That shows what a bad heart you’ve got, boy. You’ve come sneaking along after me to find the way, and never dared to show your face.”
“I did dare!” cried the boy, indignantly. “But I only saw your back. I didn’t know it was you.”
“Oh, you didn’t know it was me?” growled Serge. “Well, that don’t make it quite so bad. But you knew it was me that you came to help?”
“No.”