“Only a little.”
“Well, it’s a noble game; and I may have the pleasure of letting you beat me some time. War is like chess; it’s a great game. I like to see a well-planned battle, and even to take a part in it. But these little affairs, where everything depends on brute force, are my particular abomination. There is no science about them—no strategy—no chance to flank, or do any other smart thing.”
“Here comes the major; he didn’t catch his man,” said Somers, as the “fighting man” was seen galloping towards them.
“He’s a prudent man,” replied the regular, hardly betraying the contempt he felt for this particular volunteer.
“He’s a Maryland man.”
“So am I,” promptly returned Captain Barkwood, as though he feared that something might be said against the bravery of the men of his state. “I was born and brought up not ten miles from the spot where we now stand.”
“Why didn’t you follow me?” demanded the major, in a reproachful tone, as he reined in his panting steed.
“We had got enough of it,” answered the regular.
“We might have brought them down if you had joined me in the pursuit.”
“We might, if you had stuck by us in the fight,” said Somers, with a gentle smile, to break the force of the rebuke.