“You, landlord,” quoth Captain Panter, seating himself and stretching dusty legs, “bring me a bottle o’ burgundy—now, at once! And as for the rest o’ ye, I’ll let you know I’m Panter o’ the Third and not to be gammoned by a tale o’ cock and bull!”
The wine being brought, Captain Panter filled and drank thirstily while the place rang and reverberated with the tread of heavy feet and thuds of musket-butts that marked the searchers’ activity.
“O John,” said Sir Hector, after some while, “wull ye harken tae yon noble heroes! Is it no a graund thing tae be a sojer?”
At this, the Captain set down his glass with a bang. Quoth he:
“I’ll thank ye to leave my profession alone!”
“I will that!” answered Sir Hector. “I’ve no’ juist hankered tae be a catchpoll, y’ ken.”
“Catch——” the Captain choked.
“Poll!” added Sir Hector. “Catchpoll, laddie——”
“By all the devils!” exclaimed the Captain, rising, but at this moment Ensign Page re-entered, dusty and dishevelled.