"Till you speak a little more civilly," replied Richard, quietly. "Perhaps not till you have found out what I am made of."
Nevers bit his lip at this reply. Perhaps he was conscious that he ought not to have used the remark, or he might have reported the contumacy of the recruit to the assistant in charge of the room.
"We will try again," continued Nevers. "Right—face."
The result was no better than before; for Richard was so offended at the manner of the instructor that he determined not to obey.
"Well, Grant, you won't get round till the first day of January. You are a perfect dough-head," said Nevers, the last remark being in a low tone, though it was distinctly heard by the subject of it.
"All right," muttered Richard. "If you have found out what my head is made of, I will show you, by and by, what my fist is made of."
"Ready when you are," replied Nevers, dropping his voice so that the assistant teacher could not hear him. "Now, about—face;" and he explained the movement, and went through with it himself.
Richard, having made up his mind what to do when the occasion offered, did not deem it necessary to carry his resistance any farther at present. Besides, he was very desirous of learning the drill, that he might join the company. His "about face," therefore, was unexceptionable.
"Very well, Grant," said the drill master, in a satirical tone, and with a patronizing air.
"Your praise and your censure are all the same to me. Spare me both, if you please," replied Richard, with a dignity becoming the male heir of Woodville.