‘There’s a door in the ground,’ said David, being jumped about by the pike. ‘It’s either water or light, but I can’t remember which.’ ‘I’ve had enough water for the present,’ said the Brigadier-General, shaking himself like a dog. He began with his head, and shook all down his body, and finished up with his sword. There was a good deal of conversation going on in the ranks, and David determined to show himself an iron disciplinarian when the pike had finished bouncing him about. He kept tripping up in his sword, and his cocked hat, which he knew he had on his head, kept coming forward over his eyes, and rows on rows of medals jingled on his breast. The pike, of which he was resolved not to let go, had dragged him away into the flower-bed, and every now and then a bell jingled from the sleeping flowers. ‘Oh, do let go,’ said a whisper near him. ‘I’m not a pike at all. How can you be so silly? I’m Miss Muffet’s spider, and I was just skating along over the water, when that stupid spur caught me. I’m keeping her waiting, and I hate keeping a lady waiting.’ David let go at once, and he heard the spider canter away. At the same moment a stream of light shot up from the door in the ground, and putting his cocked-hat straight, he marched back to the guard of honour, with his baton, on the end of which fluttered his handkerchief, over his shoulder. He certainly had sailor-trousers on, but he was so covered with medals that he could not see what sort of coat he was wearing. It buttoned close round his neck, and he had an awful fear that it was the coat he had worn when errand-boy to the Bank. But there was no time to attend to that now, for his guard of honour were all yawning and looking bored, and his Brigadier-General was saluting, propping his elbow up with the other hand. ‘If it will please your Grace to inspect the guard of honour,’ he said, ‘we can get to work on the plan of campaign, for there isn’t a moment to waste!’ ‘Attention!’ said David. The Brigadier-General poked him in the side. ‘They are at attention,’ he whispered. ‘I must have much more attention than that,’ said David, beginning his inspection. ‘What’s this man doing with a toasting fork instead of a rifle, for instance?’ ‘If you please, your Grace, I was cooking sausages for your Grace’s supper, when I was ordered out, and I hadn’t time to put down my toasting fork nor nothing. It’s cruel hard if a poor soldier——’ ‘Silence in the ranks!’ said David. [Illustration: Field-Marshal David inspects his guard of honour]