As
I understand it, your Highlander fires his piece from a good distance,
throws it away, and then rushes to the attack. If the enemy stands, he
catches the bayonet of the man in front of him in his leather shield,
where it sticks, and so has him at mercy, and through you go like a knife
through a cheese."
"That's just how it's done, Colonel," said Charles merrily.
"Well, sir, that's just how it wouldn't be done if I was in command
against you."
There was neither eating nor drinking going on now, except that the
Prince poured out his third glass of brandy. Everybody was intent on the
dialogue. Ogilvie, his hand clasping his wife's under the skirt of the
napery, looked so intently at the Colonel that his face was like a figure
in a Euclid book.
"How would you stop it, sir?"
It was Mr. Secretary who spoke, for Charles was sipping at his brandy.
"We're all friends here?" said the Colonel brusquely.
"All loyal to the last drop of our blood," replied Mr. Secretary fervently.
"I dare say," was the Colonel's dry comment, "but it's much more
important at times to be loyal to the last wag of your tongue.
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