"I thought for the moment--and you not shaved this morning--" "The fellow had hold of the stick all the while.

I'll do him that credit.

He had hold of the stick, but at the wrong end.

I've been working it out, and 'tis plain (excuse me) as the nose on your face.
The moment you see 'Napoleon' with the numbers under him--" "Eh?
Then it _is_ the French!" Again the Major bounced up from his chair.
"The French?
Yes, of course--but, excuse me--" "_What_ numbers ?" The Major's voice shook, though he bravely tried to control it.
"Six hundred--" "Good Lord! _Where_ ?" "-- And sixty and six.

In Revelation thirteen, eighteen--I thought you knew!" went on the Vicar reproachfully, as his friend dropped back upon his chair, and, resting an elbow on the table, shaded his eyes and their emotion.