But Jerry Blazes had not the faintest intention of passing a
dangerous murderer. He was, as his adoring Battery swore long and
fervently, without knowledge of fear, and they were surely the
best judges, for Jerry Blazes, it was notorious, had done his
possible to kill a man each time the Battery went out.

He walked towards Simmons, with the intention of rushing him and
knocking him down.

"Don't make me do it, Sir," said Simmons; "I ain't got nothing
ag'in' you. Ah! you would?" - the Major broke into a run - "Take
that, then!"

The Major dropped with a bullet through his shoulder, and Simmons
stood over him. He had lost the satisfaction of killing Losson in
the desired way: but here was a helpless body to his hand. Should
he slip in another cartridge, and blow off the head, or with the
butt smash in the white face? He stopped to consider, and a cry
went up from the far side of the parade-ground: "He's killed Jerry
Blazes!" But in the shelter of the well-pillars Simmons was safe,
except when he stepped out to fire. "I'll blow yer 'andsome 'ead
off, Jerry Blazes," said Simmons reflectively. "Six and three is
nine an' one is ten, an' that leaves me another nineteen, an' one
for myself" He tugged at the string of the second packet of
ammunition. Corporal Slane crawled out of the shadow of a bank
into the moonlight.

"I see you!" said Simmons. "Come a bit furder on an' I'll do for
you."