The combatants appeared to be waiting “for something to turn up;” for, while the Grace was running down the channel and coming to anchor, no movement was made by either of them. The array did not at present indicate the bloody encounter I had feared, and had labored to prevent; but it was plain enough that something would result from the situation. They would not be likely to face each other all day without doing some mischief. I could see Waddie Wimpleton, in his chapeau, white plume, and gold lace, promenading up and down his lines; and, though I could not hear him, I knew very well what big things he was saying. “Well, what’s to be done?” said Major Toppleton, when the Grace had come to anchor. “If I were you, sir, I would tell our boys to go back into their camp,” I replied. “What! and let the Wimpleton students have it all their own way! Not if I know myself,” added the major, indignant even at the suggestion. “Our boys have hired the island, and it belongs to them. They shall stay there!” The major was as crazy as the colonel had been, and as neither was willing to sacrifice anything, I could not see how the fight was to be avoided. Of course none of us had any influence with the invaders, and we could not induce them to retire from the island. “Can’t you think of any way to get the Wimpleton boys off, Wolf?” asked the major, impatiently; and I saw that my services were not required as a peacemaker, but rather as an active belligerent. “I don’t see any way now, sir,” I replied; “but I may think of something by and by.” “By and by! They may kill each other before you make up your mind,” sneered the great man. “I will go on shore.” I pulled up the boat for him, and rowed him to the landing-place. I walked up the slope with him, in order to obtain a better view of the situation. It had already occurred to me that a diversion in the rear of the Wimpletonians might compel them to retire; but, as I was somewhat fearful that such a step would make them more desperate, and hasten the conflict, I did not deem it prudent to suggest the idea. We were within a few rods of the Toppleton line, when Major Tommy discovered us. Whether he was ashamed of his inaction, or fearful that his father would interfere with the pastime he had laid out, I do not know; but our coming evidently had some influence upon him, for he immediately commenced yelling as though the battle was to be fought with loud words. “Attention--battalion!” said he, flourishing his sword. “Charge bayonets!” “Stop a minute, Tommy!” called Major Toppleton, senior. “Forward--march!” added Major Tommy, regardless of his father’s interference. “Hold on a minute, Tommy!” repeated his father. “I want to see you.” “Forward--march!” screamed the little major, desperately. “Now give them fits! Don’t mind a scratch! Drive them before you!” “Charge bayonets!” cried Major Waddie, on the other side; and it was clear enough that he did not intend to run away.