Paddy looked more astonished than ever.
“Sure it’s your honour’s own.”
“It was once, but it’s yours now. But I’ll give you a ten-pound note for him and a gold watch besides if you’ll let me have him back.”
Imagine Paddy’s astonishment.
“Sure Duck Downie says it’s not worth thirty shillings—”
“Who cares for Duck Downie?” shouted Charlie, pulling out his purse. “Here’s the money, and if you come to Lieutenant Newcome’s tent when you are off duty you shall have the watch.”
And so saying, and not waiting for another word, he darted off, with me still in his hands, leaving Paddy fairly stupefied with amazement, and with only presence of mind enough left to pick up his rifle and make a royal salute to the retreating form of my first and last and dearest master.