Mr. Blagg consigned these refreshments to a region where the former at least might be more appreciated. "You kerry that bag inter the drorin'-room, will yer?" he said. "There may be one or two articles in there to take my fancy. 'Ere! 'Old 'ard!" he broke off suddenly, "What the blankety blank are you a-doin' of?"
This apostrophe was addressed, however, not to his host, who was doing nothing whatever, but to the unseen owner of a pair of khaki-clad arms which had just pinioned him from behind. During the rough-and-tumble conflict that followed Mr. Plapp discreetly left the room, returning after a brief absence to find the soldier kneeling on Mr. Blagg's chest.
"Good!" he said encouragingly; "you won't have to keep him down long. Help is at hand."
"Why don't you give it me, then?" said the soldier, on whom the strain was evidently beginning to tell.
"Because, my friend," explained Mr. Plapp, "if I did I should be acting against my conscience."
"You 'ear 'im, matey?" panted Mr. Blagg. "'E's agin you, 'e is. Agin all military-ism. So why the blinkin' blazes do you come buttin' in to defend them as don't approve o' bein' defended?"
"Blowed if I know!" was the reply. "'Abit, I expect. Lay still, will you?" But Mr. Blagg, being exceptionally muscular, struggled with such violence that the issue seemed very doubtful indeed till Louisa rushed in to the rescue and, disregarding her employer's protests, succeeded in getting hold of the revolver.
"It was lucky for you," remarked Mr. Plapp, after Mr. Blagg had been forcibly removed by a couple of constables, "that I had the presence of mind to telephone to the police station. I really thought once or twice that that dreadful man would have got the better of you."
"And no thanks to you if he didn't," grunted the soldier. "I notice that, if your conscience goes against lighting yourself, it don't object to calling in others to fight for you."