"Ten forty-five about, your honour,"
"Then we've no need for hurry. And egad Zeb, it sounds a wild story!"
"It do so, sir, cock and bullish as you might say."
"To abduct my lady, Zeb!"
"On Saturday night next as ever was, your honour."
"And this is Friday night!" said the Major thoughtfully.
"Which do give us good time to circumvent enemy's manoover."
"How many of the rogues will be there, think you?"
"Can't say for sure, sir. 'Twas three on 'em as ambushed me t'other night."
"Why as to that Zeb, as to that I imagine you brought that drubbing on yourself by your somewhat frequent and indiscriminate—er—pewter-play as 'twere."