"Evildoers," says he, sternly, "must command no sympathy."
"'Tis a hard name, sir," I says.
"Truth, madam, is not a courtier."
"Ah, no!" I sighed, and added insinuatingly, "but I have never read the history of the ill-fated Mary of Scotland without costing myself a tear."
"Had I been the executioner," says the Captain, grimly, "there had been no bungling at the lopping of her lovely, wicked head."
"My dear Captain, you are perfectly convinced of that?" And I searched the harsh man terribly with my eyes.
He lowered his own a point, and coughed to cover his confusion. I had now to tell the Captain of the Corporal's misfortune. While in the act of doing this, I kept a lookout for his anger, but except for the most delicate little smile that seemed to go crawling round his jaw, his face was as simple and inscrutable as ever.
"I think, madam," says he, "that I should praise the address you have displayed. For the second time you have outwitted his Majesty the King. But, pray, madam, be careful of the third. The third time is generally crucial."
"Do I discover a warning or a threat in this, sir?" I pleasantly inquired.
"Only the expression of an honest admiration," says the Captain, whose kind smile on this occasion appeared to be dancing round his teeth.
