"What, and be the mock of the Duchy?--after all our pride! I fancy I
see you going over to Troy and asking Browne for the loan of his
band. 'Hullo!' he'd say, 'I thought you never had such a thing as a
funeral over at Looe!' I can hear the fellow chuckle. But I wish
something could be done, all the same. A trifle of pomp would draw
folks' attention off our disappointment."

Captain Pond sighed and rose from the gun; for the bugle was sounding
from the upper battery.

"Fall in, gentlemen, if you please!" he shouted. His politeness in
addressing his Company might be envied even by the "Blues."

The Doctor formed them up and told them off along the sea-wall, as if
for inspection. "Or-der arms!" "Fix bayonets!" "Shoul-der arms!"
Then with a glance of inquiry at his Captain, who had fallen into a
brown study, "Rear rank, take open order!"

"No, no," interposed the Captain, waking up and taking a guess at the
sun's altitude in the grey heavens. "We're late this morning: better
march 'em up to the battery at once."

Then, quickly re-forming them, he gave the word, "By the left!
Quick march!" and the Die-hards swung steadily up the hill towards
the platform where the four nine-pounders grinned defiance to the
ships of France.

As a matter of fact, this battery stood out of reach of harm, with
the compensating disadvantage of being able to inflict none.