"But if there is to be a little bit o' cut and thrust work to-night, your honour, 'tis as well to be prepared."
"You think old Betty is to be relied on, Zeb?"
"Aye sir, I do."
"None the less I'm glad my lady Carlyon knoweth nought o' the matter, 'tis best, I think, to keep it from her—at least until we are sure, moreover 'tis like enough she—" the Major paused to rub his chin dubiously, "'tis very like she would only——"
"Laugh, your honour?"
"Hum!" said the Major.
"Lord sir, but she's a woundy fine spirit!" exclaimed the Sergeant.
"True, Zeb, very true!" The Major nodded. "Yet I would she were a thought less venturesome and—ah—contrary at times as 'twere, Zeb——"
"Contrairy, sir? Lord love me, there you have it! Woman is a contrairy sect, 'tis born in 'em! Look at Mrs. Agatha, contrairiness ain't no word for same!"
"How so, Zeb?"