"Peterday," said the Sergeant removing his gaze from the wall with a jerk, "on the twenty-fifth instant we shall be—without a roof to cover us, and—all my doing. Peterday—what have you to say about it?"
"Say, messmate,—why that you and me, honouring, and respecting two ladies as deserves to be honoured, and respected, ain't going to let such a small thing as this here cottage come betwixt us, and our honouring and respecting of them two ladies. If, therefore, we are due to quit this anchorage, why then it's all hands to the windlass with a heave yo ho, and merrily! say I. Messmate,—my fist!" Hereupon, with a very jerky movement indeed, the Sergeant reached out his remaining arm, and the soldier and the sailor shook hands very solemnly over the muffins (already vastly diminished in number) with a grip that spoke much.
"Peterday,—you have lifted a load off my heart—I thank ye comrade,—and spoke like a true soldier. Peterday—the muffins!"
So now the Sergeant, himself once more, fell to in turn, and they ate, and drank, and laughed, and talked, until the shrimps were all gone, and the muffins were things of the past.
And now, declining all Bellew's offers of assistance, the soldier and the sailor began washing, and drying, and putting away their crockery, each in his characteristic manner,—the Sergeant very careful and exact, while the sailor juggled cups and saucers with the sure-handed deftness that seems peculiar to nautical fingers.
"Yes, Peterday," said the Sergeant, hanging each cup upon its appointed nail, and setting each saucer solicitously in the space reserved for it on the small dresser, "since you have took our marching orders as you have took 'em, I am quite reconciled to parting with these here snug quarters, barring only—a book-shelf, and a cup-board."
"Cupboard!" returned Peterday with a snort of disdain, "why there never was such a ill-contrived, lubberly cupboard as that, in all the world; you can't get at it unless you lay over to port,—on account o' the clothes-press, and then hard a starboard,—on account o' the dresser,—and then it being in the darkest corner—"
"True Peterday, but then I'm used to it, and use is everything as you know,—I can lay my hand upon anything—in a minute—watch me!" Saying which, the Sergeant squeezed himself between the press and the dresser, opened the cupboard, and took thence several articles which he named, each in order.
"A pair o' jack-boots,—two brushes,—blacking,—and a burnisher." Having set these down, one by one, upon the dresser, he wheeled, and addressed himself to Bellew, as follows:
"Mr. Bellew, sir,—this evening being the anniversary of a certain—event, sir, I will ask you—to excuse me—while I make the necessary preparations—to honour this anniversary—as is ever my custom." As he ended, he dropped the two brushes, the blacking, and the burnisher inside the legs of the boots, picked them up with a sweep of the arm, and, turning short round, strode out into the little garden.