“The king!” answered the soldier, gruffly. “What would my captain say? Long before the king could hear of it, the drummer’s cane would make acquaintance with my back.”
“Pooh! the captain’s not here to see you. Out with your pipe, man. I’ll tell no tales.”
“Look here, you rascal!” cried the soldier, in an angry tone, “I half suspect you’re some fellow who wants to get me into trouble. Now, if that’s so, you had better be off before worse comes of it; for if you say any more, I’ll give you a cuff you won’t like.”
“I’d like to see you try it,” said the other, with a laugh.
The soldier’s only reply was a blow which sent the stranger’s battered old hat flying into the air, while he himself staggered back several paces.
“Very good,” said he, recovering himself, and speaking in quite a different tone. “You’ll hear of this to-morrow, my man, and get what you deserve, never fear. Goodnight to you.”
He stooped as he spoke, and picking up something from the ground, vanished into the darkness.
The sudden change in his unknown visitor’s tone and manner, and his parting threat, caused some uneasiness to Baum. He began to fear that he had insulted an officer of high rank—a colonel at the very least, perhaps even a general.
“However,” thought he, “he doesn’t know my name, that’s one comfort; and he won’t find it very easy to describe the spot where I was posted, seeing that the night is so dark.”
But the next moment he gave a terrible start, for he had just missed his tobacco-pouch, which usually hung at his belt; and he remembered having seen the stranger pick up something as he went off. It must have been the pouch, and his name was upon it in full.