Give you good night, sir." And by drawing back a pace he signified his wish to close the door and be quit of them.
"We thought," faltered the young officer, "that--that perchance you would assist us by--" "Assist you!" roared Crispin, with a fine assumption of anger.

"Assist you take a man?
Sink me, sir, I would have you know I am a soldier, not a tipstaff!" The ensign's cheeks grew crimson under the sting of that veiled insult.
"There are some, Sir Crispin, that have yet another name for you." "Like enough--when I am not by," sneered Crispin.

"The world is full of foul tongues in craven heads.

But, sirs, the night air is chill and you are come inopportunely, for, as you'll perceive, I was at play.

Haply you'll suffer me to close the door." "A moment, Sir Crispin.