"What's this I hear about trouble with the French women?
Have they begun a revolution ?" "That elephant, Gaspard Roussillon, came back into town last night," said Hamilton sulkily.
"Well, he went out again, didn't he ?" "Yes, but--" "Stepped on somebody's toe first, eh ?" "The guard tried to capture him, and that girl of his wounded Lieutenant Barlow in the neck with a sword.

Roussillon fought like a tiger and the men swear that the devil himself appeared on the scene to help the Frenchman out." "Moral: Be generous in your dealings with Frenchmen and Frenchwomen and so get the devil on your side." "I've got the girl a prisoner, and I swear to you that I'll have her shot this time if--" "Why not shoot her yourself?
You oughtn't to shirk a dirty job like that and force it upon your men." Hamilton laughed and elevated his shoulders as if to shake off an annoying load.

Just then a young officer with a white bandage around his neck entered and saluted.

He was a small, soft-haired, blue-eyed man of reckless bearing, with marks of dissipation sharply cut into his face.

He saluted, smiling self-consciously.
"Well, Barlow," said Hamilton, "the kitten scratched you, did she ?" "Yes, slightly, and I don't think I've been treated fairly in the matter, sir." "How so ?" "I stood the brunt and now Captain Farnsworth gets the prize." He twisted his mouth in mock expression of maudlin disappointment.