"Tell our young gent 'ow you lost your 'and, Corp."
But hereupon the Corporal frowned, shuffled his feet, stroked his trim whiskers with his hook, and finally addressed Barnabas.
"I aren't much of a talker, sir,—and it aren't much of a story, but if you so wish—"
"I do so wish," said Barnabas heartily.
"Why, very good, sir!" Saying which the Corporal sat up, squared his mighty shoulders, coughed, and began:
"It was when they Cuirassiers broke our square at Quatre-bras, sir,—fine fellows those Cuirassiers! They rode into us, through us, over us,—the square was tottering, and it was 'the colors—rally!' Ah, sir! the colors means the life or death of a square at such times. And just then, when horses was a-trampling us and the air full o' the flash o' French steel, just then I see our colors dip and sway, and down they went. But still it's 'the colors—rally!' and there's no colors to rally to; and all the time the square is being cut to pieces. But I, being nearest, caught up the colors in this here left hand," here the Corporal raised his gleaming hook, "but a Cuirassier, 'e caught them too, and there's him at one end o' the staff and me at t'other, pulling and hauling, and then—all at once he'd got 'em. And because why? Because I hadn't got no left 'and to 'old with. But I'd got my right, and in my right was 'Brown Bess' there," and the Corporal pointed to the long musket in the corner. "My bayonet was gone, and there weren't no time to reload, so—I used the butt. Then I picked up the colors again and 'eld 'em high over my head, for the smoke were pretty thick, and, 'To the colors,' I shouted,' Rally, lads, rally!' And oh, by the Lord, sir,—to hear our lads cheer! And so the square formed up again—what was left of it—formed up close and true round me and the colors, and the last thing I mind was the cheering. Ah! they was fine fellows, they Cuirassiers!"
"So that vere the end o' the Corp's soldiering!" nodded Mr. Shrig.
"Yes," sighed the Corporal, "a one-handed soldier ain't much good, ye see, sir."
"So they—throwed 'im out!" snarled Mr. Shrig.
"Now Jarsper," smiled the giant, shaking his head. "Why so 'ard on the sarvice? They give me m' stripe."