CHAPTER XIV.
THE BATTLE OF THE BLACK SHEDS.
This much being settled, the army of Windy Standard advanced upon theenemy's entrenchments.
Prissy was the only soldier in the force with any religiousconvictions of a practical kind. On this occasion she actually wantedto send a mission to the foe with an offer of peace, on condition oftheir giving up Donald to his rightful owners. She instanced as anexample of the kind of thing she meant, the verses about turning theother cheek. But General Napoleon had his answer ready.
"Well," he said, "that's all right. That's in the Bible, so I s'poseyou have got to believe it. But I was looking at it last Sunday insermon time, and it doesn't say what you are to do _after_ you turnthe other cheek. So yesterday I tried it on Tommy Pratt to see how itworked, and he hit me on the other cheek like winking, and made myeyes water. So then I took off my coat, and, Jove!--didn't I just givehim Billy-O! Texts aren't so bad. They are mostly all right, if youonly read on a bit!"
"But," said Prissy, "perhaps you forgot that a soft answer turnethaway wrath?"
"Don't, nother," contradicted Sir Toady Lion, whose pronunciation of"wrath" and "horse" was identical, and who persistently misunderstoodthe Scriptural statement which Janet Sheepshanks had once made himlearn without explanation. "Tried soft answer on big horse in thefarm-yard, yesterday, and he didn't turn away a little bit, but comedright on, and tried to eat me _all_ up!"
Toady Lion always had at least one word in italics in each sentence.
Prissy looked towards her ally and fellow-private for assistance.
"Love your----" suggested Sammy, giving her a new cue. Prissy thankedhim with a look.
"Well," she said, "at least you won't deny that it says in the NewTestament that you are to love your enemies!"
"I don't yike the New Test'ment," commented Toady Lion in his shrillhigh pipe, which cuts through all other conversation as easily as asharp knife cleaves a bar of soap; "ain't never nobody killed dead inthe New Test'ment!"
"Hush, Arthur George," said Prissy in a shocked voice, "you must notspeak like that about the New Testament. It says 'Love your enemies!''Do good to them that hate you!' Now then!"
Hugh John turned away with a disgusted look on his face.
"Oh," he said, "of course, if you were to go on like that, there wouldnever be any soldiers, nor bloody wars, nor nothing nice!"
Which of course would be absurd.
* * * * *
During this discussion the two Generals of Division had been whollysilent. To them the New Testament was considerably outside the sphereof practical politics. Peter Greg indeed had one which he had got fromhis mother on his birthday with his name on the first page; and Mike,who was of the contrary persuasion as to the advisability ofcirculating the Written Word in the vulgar tongue, could alwaysprovoke a fight by threatening to burn it, to which Peter Greginvariably replied by a hasty and ungenerous expression of hope as tothe future welfare of the head of the Catholic religion.
But all this was purely academical discussion. Neither of them knewnor cared one jot about the matter. Prissy alone was genuinelydistressed, and so affected was she that two big tears of woe trickleddown her cheeks. These she wiped off with her pinafore, turning awayher eyes so that Hugh John might not see them. There was, however, nogreat danger of this, for that warrior preoccupied himself withshouting "Right-left, Right-left," as if he were materially assistingthe success of the expedition by doing so.
At the entrance to the pastures tenanted by butcher Donnan, the armydivided into its two divisions under their several commanders. TheCommander-in-Chief placed himself between the wings as a centraldivision all by himself. It was Peter Greg who first reached the door,and with his stout cudgel knocked off the padlock. He had alreadyentered in triumph, and was about to be followed by his soldiery, whena loud shout was heard from the edge of the park.
"Here they are--go at them! Give them fits, boys! We'll learn them tocome sneaking into our field."
And over the stone dikes, from the direction of the town of Edam, camean overpowering force of the enemy led by Nipper Donnan. They seemedto arrive from all parts at once, and with sticks and stones theyadvanced upon the slender array of the forces of Windy Standard. Theirrude language, their threatening gestures, and their loud shoutsintimidated but did not daunt the assailants. Field-Marshal NapoleonSmith called on his men to do or die; and everyone resolved that thatwas just what they were there for--all except Prissy, who promptlypulled up her skirts and went down the meadow towards thestepping-stones like a jenny-spinner driven by the wind, and Sir ToadyLion, who, finding an opening in the hedge about his size in holes,crept quietly through and was immediately followed by Caesar, the"potwalloping" Newfoundland pup.
The struggle which raged around those who remained staunch to thecolours was grim and deadly. General-Field-Marshal Napoleon Smiththrew himself into the thickest of the fray, and the cry, "A Smith forMerry England," alternated with the ringing "Scotland for ever!" whichhad so often carried terror into the hearts of the foe. Prince MichaelO'Donowitch performed prodigies of valour, and personally "downed"three of the enemy with his national weapon. Peter Greg fought apitched battle with Nipper Donnan, in which double-jointed words wereas freely used as tightly clenched fists. Cissy Carter "progged" atleast half-a-dozen of the enemy with her pike, before it was wrestedfrom her by the united efforts of several town lads who were not goingto stand being punched by a girl. Sammy Carter stood well out of theheady fray, and contented himself with stinging up the enemy with hisvengeful catapult till they howled again.
"THE BATTLE OF THE BLACK SHEDS."]
But the struggle of the many against the few, the strong against theweak, could only end in one way. In ten minutes the forces of law anddisorder were scattered to the four quarters of heaven, and thestandard that had streamed so rarely on the braes of Edam was in thehands of the exulting foe.
Prince Michael was wounded on the nose to the effusion of blood,General Peter Greg was a fugitive with a price on his head, and, mostterrible of all--Field-Marshal Napoleon Smith was taken prisoner.
* * * * *
But Sir Toady Lion was neither among the slain, nor yet among thewounded or the captives. What then of Toady Lion?