But everybody we met I was introduced to as Sarah.
"Awfully sorry," said Langrish, after the fourth or fifth offence. "I've such a bad memory for names.--Well kicked, sir."
This exclamation was addressed, not to me, but to a senior who had just appeared on the scene, and was kicking about the practice football with a friend prior to a match which was evidently due.
It was a splendid kick, and the author of it was a splendid fellow-- brawny of limb and light of foot, with fair hair and clear blue eyes--as one might picture one of the Norsemen of the story-books. You could see by the way he moved, and the spirit he put even into this practice kicking, that he was a sportsman every inch of him; and his good-natured laugh, as he exchanged greetings with this and that arriving friend, proclaimed him, even before you heard him speak, as good a gentleman as he was an athlete.
"Redwood's in form to-day," said some one. "We'd better stop and see the play."
"Is that Redwood, the captain?" inquired I, in an awestruck way, of Warminster.
"Rather," was the reply, in a tone of pride which convinced me that Low Heath was proud of its chief, even though he had the misfortune to be a day boy.
Just then Redwood turned and waved his hand to somebody near us.
"Don't you see him beckoning? Look alive, or you'll catch it."
I could hardly believe it; and yet everybody near looked round at me in apparent wonder at my delay.
Perhaps Redwood had heard something about me from Tempest and wanted to--
"Go on," said Trimble, giving me a shove. "If he wants to stick you in the Fifteen, tell him it's not good enough."
"Look sharp," called the others, encouragingly, as I started to obey the summons.
By this time Redwood was strolling our way. Mahomet, thought I, is coming to the mountain. So, to save him trouble, I trotted up to meet him.
At first he didn't notice me. Then when I said, "Did you want me?" he stared me over from head to foot as a Newfoundland dog would inspect a pug. It was on the whole a benevolent stare, not unmingled with humour; especially when the cheers of my late comrades called his attention to my ingenuous blushes.
"I didn't," said he; "but you'll do, if you don't mind. Cut home to my house. Number 3, Bridge Street, and ask them to send my leather belt. Look alive, there's a good chap."