“Well, sargint. Good evening to ye, sargint.”
“I’ve been looking for you all day, that I have,” said the sergeant.
“What, me!” said my new master, in astonishment.
“Well, I was told to look out for the finest young fellow in the place, and that’s about the same thing.”
The lad chuckled at this vastly, and then said,—
“And what might ye be wanting me for, gineral, at all at all?”
“Faith, Patrick,” said the sergeant, adopting the Irish brogue as if he had been a native, “to give yez a message from the Quane, just.”
“The Quane!” shouted the Irishman.
“Sure, no other. She wants your help, my lad.”
“And she shall have it, bless her! What can I do at all?”