Bill was seized, and hustled round behind the oak, and kept there till he promised to be quiet.
“But when are we going to begin?” asked Jack.
“Be quick,” said Luke.
“War! war!” shouted half a dozen, kicking up their heels.
“Hold your noise,” said Ted, cuffing one of his followers. “Can’t you see we’re getting on as fast as we can. Bevis, where are we going to fight?”
“In the Plain,” said Bevis. “That’s the best place.”
“Plenty of room for a big battle,” said Ted. “O, you’ve got it on the map, I see.”
The Plain was the great pasture beside the New Sea, where Bevis and Mark bathed and ran about in the sunshine. It was some seventy or eighty acres in extent, a splendid battle-field.
“We’re not going to march,” said Mark, taking something on himself as lieutenant.
“We’re not going to march,” said Bevis. “But I did not tell you to say so; I mean we are not going to march the thousand miles, Ted; we will suppose that.”