“What other men,” I asked, “are able to turn out?”
“Please, sir,” replied he, “that’s what they wished me to speak to you about. There’s five of them as says they can come down whenever you please, sir, only if they had a few buttons, and some needles and thread.”
“Which five are they?” said I.
“There’s the Lancashire man, sir,” he answered, “and there’s Sandwich Sam, and Cockney, and the Parson, them four. And there’s Teakettle Tom, he says he thinks he could come, only he hasn’t not got no breeches.”
“Very good,” said I; “go into the house, and take some refreshment, while we see what the village can supply. To-morrow morning you can bring the men down.”
The Padre having instituted an inquiry in the village to meet the requisition for military stores, we sat down to dinner. All the articles required were soon forthcoming; so, having allowed the Sergeant a little time for rest and refreshment, I directed Francisco to take the things, and to go back with the Sergeant to the convent.
Dinner concluded, we were leaving the house, when I was surprised to find Sergeant Pegden seated in the porch.
“Why, Sergeant,” said I, “will you take anything more to eat or to drink? I fear you have overtaxed your strength.”
“Nothing more, thank’e, sir,” said the Sergeant. “Much obliged to you for all favours. Only please, sir, I’m waiting for that Sandwich Sam. I brought him down with me from the hospital; only when we got into the village he hung behind, because he said he wasn’t regimental.”
“Well,” said I, “bring him down in the morning with the rest, as tidy as you can turn them out. When you get back to the hospital, you will probably find he is there before you. By the by, Pegden, I suppose you know all about those two Spaniards up there.”