“Oh, some of your bandsmen have stringed instruments, Rockley.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” cried the Major. “What is it to be, Mr Linnell? We can give you anything. Why not get up a quintette, and let Matt Bray there take the drum, and charming Sir Harry Payne the cymbals?”
“Play something, Dick,” said Colonel Mellersh quietly.
“Yes, of course,” said the young man. “Will you help me?”
“Oh, if you like,” said the Colonel. “Rockley, ask your men to lend us a couple of instruments.”
“Really, my dear fellow, we haven’t a lute in the regiment.”
“I suppose not,” said the Colonel dryly. “A couple of violins will do. Here, my man, ask for a violin and viola.”
The military servant saluted and went out, and to fill up the time Major Rockley proposed a toast.
“With bumpers, gentlemen. A toast that every man will drink. Are you ready?”
There was a jingle of glasses, the gurgle of wine, and then a scattered volley of “Yes!”