Chapter 1. In The Garrison Garden
_ CHAPTER I. IN THE GARRISON GARDEN
"Archelaus," said the Commandant, "where did you get those trousers?" Sergeant Archelaus, who, as he dug in the neglected garden, had been exposing a great quantity of back-view (for he was a long man), straightened himself up, faced about, and, grounding his long-handled spade as it were a musket, stood with palms crossed over the top of it.
"Off the Lord Proprietor," he answered.
The Commandant, seated on a bench under the veronica hedge, a few yards higher up the slope, laid down his book, took off his spectacles, wiped them, and replaced them very deliberately.
"The Lord Proprietor? I do not understand--" His face had reddened a little, as it usually did at mention of the Lord Proprietor.
"Made me a present of ‘em," explained Sergeant Archelaus, curtly. "You don‘t mean to say you haven‘t noticed ‘em till this minute?"
The Commandant put the question aside. "The Lord Proprietor has no right to be

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