"Mayhap sir, though if so be rogues were same rogues I should ha' knowed same, though to be sure 'twere a darkish night and they were masked. Howsobe, my Lord Medhurst pinked one of 'em, his point was prettily bloodied."
"Are you armed, Zeb?"
"Nought to speak of, sir."
"What have you?"
"A sword sir, and a brace o' travelling-pistols as chanced to lay handy which, with your honour's, maketh four shot, two swords and a bagnet."
"Lord, Zeb, we're not going up against a troop!" said the Major, smiling in the dark, "and why the bayonet?"
"'Tis the one I used for to carry when we were on outpost duty at night, sir—the one as I had shortened for the purpose, your honour. You'll mind as there's nought like a short, stiff bagnet when 'tis a case o' silence. And as for a troop you ha'n't forgot the time as we routed that company o' Bavarian troopers, you and me, sir, thereby proving the advantages o' the element o' surprise?"
"Aye, those were desperate times, Zebedee."
"Mighty different to these, sir."
"Aye, truly, truly!" said the Major, gently.