"Shut up, Titi," yelled Piatte once more. "Where was I? Oh, I know," he went on. "Titi had by this time knocked his man down, and without asking for our bill, we pick up our swords and bolt like mad. As we get out, the chap I had chucked out of the window has just regained his feet, and he hollers 'Murder! Murder!' He was a corporal, and 'twas a bad case. The landlord had been hollering 'Murder!' the whole time; but, d'ye see, the place stands all by itself, and only the three chaps I spoke of heard him. We hadn't gone a hundred yards before we see all the Piou-pious rush out of the pub and make for us like mad. We hadn't been such fools as to cut towards the town, so when we saw them after us we made off across country, and, as luck would have it, they didn't chivy us far. But we'd given them too good a dressing to be up to much. All the same, we ran for another mile, and then we sat down and had a good laugh. Then Titi, he says, 'It's all very fine, but I don't like it; that ere d----d Corporal'll be bad for our health: we must rig up an alleyby.' So to rig up his blooming alleyby, he says, 'Let's go down to the river, and first of all let's have a swill!'--we were pretty bloody and dirty, you bet--'and then we'll go to a bloke I know who's got a boat, and then we'll get back to the town, and make out as how we've come from the North Road, and we've been in the forest, and you got your helmet smashed bird's-nesting.' And so we did. By a roundabout way we got to the river and had a wash; we soon found Titi's bloke, and he took us over in his boat. 'Give us a hind-wheel,' says Titi, and he hands it over to the boat chap. 'Mind you,' says Titi, 'you've seen no Dragoons to-day.' 'Mum's the word,' he says back, and he pulls off and throws a line into the water quite innocent like. We ran towards the forest until we hit the road, and then we walked quietly down towards the town. On the way we meets Lieutenant Granford riding; he stops and says, 'What's the matter with your helmet?' 'Oh, sir,' I says, 'I tried to get a rook's nest, and nearly broke my neck.' 'Well,' says the Lieutenant--he's a good sort, you know--'you'll have to pay for it; but bird's-nesting is a better occupation than getting drunk.' 'Yes, sir,' says Titi, 'we don't mean to liquor any more!' 'I'm glad to hear it,' says the Lieutenant, and he canters off.