“Officer!” cried Jerry, who was boiling over with hysterical excitement; “he deserves to have his uniform stripped off his back. Gentleman! as borrowed money on bills, and forged Sir Richard’s name; said he didn’t; and made the poor feller go off, leave everything, and come here and ’list.”
“You are too excited, my man,” said the colonel. “If all this is true—”
“True, sir? Bring me face to face with him—no: don’t; for if he’s killed that poor dear lad, I shall be hung for him as sure as I’m a man.”
“Brigley,” said the colonel, “you will be brought face to face with Sir Mark—”
“Mark—no Sir,” cried Jerry hotly.
“Silence, man. You will be brought face to face with the officer you accuse. Meanwhile, you do not leave the barracks. You are under arrest.”
“No, sir; pray, sir—Colonel, don’t say that. Let me go and see him,” cried Jerry, with the tears now streaming down his cheeks. “Mr Lacey, sir, say a word for me to the colonel. I must go to Sir Richard. If you shut me up—I can’t help it, even if you shoot me for it—I shall desert.”
“Silence, sir!”
“I beg pardon, sir,” said Lacey; “the man is over-excited. I will be answerable for him, if you will let him come with me.”
The colonel nodded his consent.