As he spoke he literally charged at the constable, who was now leaning backwards a little out of his perpendicular, and came heavily in contact with him, forcing the man to make a snatch at one of the rounds to save himself from falling.
The next moment the top of the ladder began to glide sideways, describing an arc as it rustled through the ivy. The mounting soldier, feeling it go, made a jump to alight upon his feet, but, not having time to properly judge his distance, he came down upon the constable instead, and there followed a short scuffle, out of which Waller was the first to gain his feet, to turn savagely upon the heavy, sitting man, and exclaim, amidst roars of laughter:
“Why did you do that?”
“Yes,” shouted the gardener; “I saw him pull it over. Just look here, Master Waller! Here’s my beautiful new ladder snapped in two!”
It was a fact. There lay the pieces; and the soldier, whose face had flushed with rage, but who was not hurt, now joined in the laughter of those around, while the constable still sat looking piteously about, as if for the sympathy that did not come.
The sergeant was the next to speak; as he bent over and held out his hand.
“Well, you have done it now, master,” he said. “I shouldn’t have thought an old chap like you would get playing a trick like that.”
“Oh!” groaned Gusset, looking at him piteously. “Help me, please! I think there’s something broke!”
“Not there,” said the sergeant cheerily. “You wouldn’t break; you are too soft and inji-rubbery, old chap. Here, you two, set him on his pins again. I am very sorry. Mr Froy, sir, about this ladder, but you see it wasn’t my men’s fault.”
“No, of course not,” said Waller. “They couldn’t help it. Blundering up against the ladder like that! It looks as if he had been drinking.”