‘Ah!’ retorted Ephraim drily. ‘Waal, I’m put hyar tew think on to-day. What d’ye want?’
‘What do I want, you fool?’ replied the man angrily. ‘Why, I want to pass, of course. Shoulder arms.’
‘Who air yew orderin’ about?’ snapped Ephraim. ‘And yew keep a civil tongue in yewr head, mister. Don’t yew be so ready tew call names.’
‘Well, I didn’t mean that,’ said the stranger, wishful to conciliate him. ‘I was anxious to pass, that is all. I am sorry. Let me pass, please, for I am in a hurry.’
‘Hurry or no hurry,’ returned Ephraim stolidly, ‘ye don’t pass hyar. Go back, or I’ll run ye through.’
He looked so fierce as he said it, that the stranger actually did recoil a pace or two. But he recovered himself instantly, and said smoothly:
‘Look here, my good friend, what is your objection to letting me pass? I gave you the word.’
‘But yew gave me the wrong one to start with,’ answered Ephraim, glowering at him.
The stranger bit his lip. He saw he had made a mistake, and, in endeavouring to explain it, he appeared to offend the sentry still further.
‘I said it in jest—to try you—to see if you were a smart fellow,’ he said, with a little laugh.