He proceeded on his way more leisurely, overtaking, despite his lack of speed, another man who was walking still more slowly in the shade of the hedge.
"Fine day, Halibut," he said, briskly; "fine day."
"Beautiful," said the other, making no attempt to keep pace with him.
"Country wants rain, though," cried the Major over his shoulder.
Halibut assented, and walking slowly on, wondered vaguely what gaudy color it was that had attracted his eye. It dawned on him at length that it must be the Major's tie, and he suddenly quickened his pace, by no means reassured as the man of war also quickened his.
"Halloa, Brill!" he cried. "Half a moment."
The Major stopped and waited for his friend; Halibut eyed the tie uneasily—it was fearfully and wonderfully made—but said nothing.
"Well?" said the Major, somewhat sharply.
"Oh—I was going to ask you, Brill—Confound it! I've forgotten what I was going to say now. I daresay I shall soon think of it. You're not in a hurry?"
"Well, I am, rather," said Brill. "Fact is— Is my hat on straight, Halibut?"