“Thank you! Very nicely played. Good-night.”
The window squeaked, was then closed loudly, and whispering “Come along!” the lieutenant was in full retreat towards the gate, while Dick was choking in his endeavour to smother his laughter.
“Coppers!” groaned the lieutenant; “that must have been quite a shilling’s worth of halfpence wrapped up in paper. They hit me on the top of the head.”
“And burst and scattered over the grass,” whispered Dick, trying to be serious.
“Yes, Smithson; and if I had had no cap the consequences might have been serious.”
“Were you hurt, sir?”
“More mentally than bodily, Smithson,” sighed the lieutenant.
“But how could the lady make such a mistake as to think we—you were a travelling musician?”
“The lady?” cried the lieutenant angrily. “How can you be so absurd, Smithson! it was her prim old aunt!”
There was no more said on the way back to the barracks, much to Dick’s satisfaction, for he felt that if the lieutenant spoke he would be compelled to burst out with a roar of laughter in his face.