“Thank you, sir, for the lunch,” said the sergeant, smiling; and he gave the lad another admiring look—one that took him in from top to toe, while his eyes seemed to speak the thoughts of his heart. “What a smart young officer he’d make! Shouldn’t I like the job of drilling him into shape!”
“Oh, we will begin at the bottom, sir, and search to the top.”
“But suppose there are Frenchmen here,” said Waller, laughing, “why, they might be getting away into the woods while you are talking!”
“Not they, sir,” said the man, with a cunning smile. “I have got a man at each door as sentry, and two more on vedette back and front. Not much fear of that.”
“But suppose they make a bolt, like the rabbits do in the forest,” said Waller.
“Bad for them if they did, sir,” replied the sergeant, rather sternly. “My men can shoot.”
Waller whistled softly.
“Oh, ho!” he said; and he tapped the barrel of the sergeant’s musket with his knuckles. “Loaded?”
The man gave him a quiet nod.
“Go on, then; search away, and get it done. You have been in the dining-room, I see.”