And lo! to Redmond it seemed that the stern, intolerant, recklessly-handsome countenance he looked upon bore a striking resemblance to the face of Yorke.
CHAPTER IV
Burn'd Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire,
And shook his very frame for ire,
And—"This to me!" he said,—
MARMION
Early on the morrow it came to pass that Sergeant Slavin, cooking breakfast for all hands, heard Yorke's voice uplifted in song, as that worthy made his leisurely toilet. He shot a slightly bilious glance at Redmond, who, "Morning Stables" finished, lounged nearby.
"Hear um?" he snorted enviously. "Singin'! singin'!—forever singin'!—eyah! sich nonsince, tu."
But, to George, who possessed a musical ear, the ringing tenor sounded rather airily and sweetly—
"Hark! hark! the lark at Heaven's Gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs—"
"Fwhat yez know 'bout that?" Slavin forked viciously at the bacon he was frying. "Blarney my sowl! an' him not up for 'Shtables' at all! . . ."
"With ev'rything that pretty is:— My lady sweet, arise! arise! My lady sweet, arise!"
"My lady shweet!"—Slavin snorted unutterable things.