He caught himself up, with a blush that gave his honest round face a very boyish air.
"About what?"
"I wasn't to say, sir."
"Oh well, cut off and fetch the water! Been fighting any Spaniards lately, Wilkes?"
"No such luck, sir. Spaniards or French, it's all one to me, and what I want to know is—"
Jack smiled and shut the window.
When he entered the mess-room he found the officers of his regiment already seated, Colonel Beckwith being at the head of the table.
"Hullo!" exclaimed Smith, who was opposite the door. His exclamation drew all eyes towards Jack, and as he passed down the table to take the place made for him beside Pomeroy, the subalterns rapped knives and glasses on the unstained deal, and gave a rousing welcome to the wanderer.
"Of all the lucky beggars!" said Pomeroy in Jack's ear, when the general greetings had subsided. "And I can't even punch your head!"
"You're welcome to try," retorted Jack, "but allow me to get some dinner first. I've had nothing but pucheros and gaspachos for days past, and there are heavy arrears to make up."