Soldiers of the Queen Part 27

Jack threw down his money. "Third, Melchester!" he said, and so crossed the Rubicon.

Very few changes had taken place in the little city during the four years which had elapsed since he last visited it. Here and there a house had been modernized, or a new shop-front erected, but in the neighbourhood of the school no alterations seemed to have been made.

He strolled past it in the dusk, and paused to look in through the gates: the boys had not yet returned, and the quadrangle was dark and deserted. He thought of the night when he and Rosher had climbed in by way of the headmaster's garden, and forced an entry into the house through the bathroom window. It seemed a hards.h.i.+p then to be obliged to be in by a certain time, yet it was preferable to having no resting-place to claim as one's own.

A few minutes later he halted again, this time outside the well-remembered cookshop. "Duster's" was exactly the same as it always had been, except for the fact that, it being holiday time, the display of delicacies in the window was not quite so large as usual. Jack smiled as there flashed across his mind the memory of the literary society's supper; the faces of the sprightly Tinkleby, Preston the bowler, "Guzzling Jimmy," and a host of others, rose before him in the deepening twilight. They had been good comrades together once; most of them had probably made a fair start by this time in various walks of life. He wondered if they remembered him, and what they would say if they knew what he was doing, and whether any of them would care what became of him. No, he had only himself to please now, and if he preferred soldiering to office-work, what was there to hinder him from taking the s.h.i.+lling?

There was no particular hurry. He pa.s.sed the night at a small temperance hotel, and next morning, after a plain breakfast, started out for a stroll into the country. He had written a note to his father before leaving Padbury merely stating his intention, and giving no address. There was nothing more to be done but to enjoy himself as a free man before making application to the nearest recruiting sergeant.

He pa.s.sed the barracks where the 1st Battalion of the Royal Blanks.h.i.+re Regiment was quartered, and thought how often he and Valentine had lingered there, listening to the bugle-calls, and watching the drill instructors at work in the square with their awkward squads. Just inside the gate the guard were falling in, preparatory to the arrival of the relief, and something in their smart appearance, and in the very clank of their rifle-b.u.t.ts upon the flagstones, stirred his heart; yes, that was the calling he meant to follow.

He strode off along the Hornalby road, whistling a lively tune, and conjuring up bright mental pictures of the life before him. He might not have Valentine's luck, but he would make up for it in other ways.

The path was steep and rough, no doubt, but in treading it scores of brave men had won honour and renown; and with courage and determination, there was no reason why he should not do the same. It was a man's life, and here there was certainly more chance of distinguis.h.i.+ng oneself than in a manufacturer's office.

With these and other thoughts of a similar nature occupying his mind, Jack tramped on gaily enough in the bright suns.h.i.+ne. Suddenly, however, he stopped dead in the middle of the road. He had come in sight of a wayside inn, the Black Horse, and the thought struck him that he was within two miles of Brenlands.

All unbidden, a host of recollections came rus.h.i.+ng upon him. The last time he had walked from Melchester along this road was the afternoon on which he brought back the silver locket for Queen Mab. What if the pony-carriage should suddenly turn the corner? and yet, why should he be afraid to meet her? He was doing nothing to be ashamed of, and the recollection of the stolen watch never entered his head. He would have given anything to have gone on and seen her again--to have had one more kind smile and loving word. "My own boy Jack!" Would he ever hear her say that again?

He turned on his heel, and began the return journey with a gloomy look of discontent upon his face. His castles in the air had vanished: what was there that made a soldier's life attractive but the right to go about in a red coat like a barrel-organ monkey? For two pins he would abandon the project, and go back to Padbury.

This impression, however, was not destined to last very long. As he approached the barracks he noticed a small crowd of idlers collecting near a gateway, and at the same instant the silence was broken by the sound of a drum. He knew what it was--the regiment had been out drilling on the neighbouring common, and was on its way home.

He hurried forward to watch the soldiers as they pa.s.sed.

Boom! boom! boom!--boom! boom! boom! With a glorious crash the bra.s.s instruments burst out with the tune. Jack knew it well, and his heart danced to it as the band marched out into the road.

"'Twas in the merry month of May, When bees from flower to flower did hum, Soldiers through the town marched gay, The village flew to the sound of the drum!"

Jack drew back into the hedge to watch as the regiment went by.

"March at ease!" The sunlight flashed as the arms were sloped, and glittered on bright blades as the officers returned their swords. Not a detail escaped his eager observation; the swing of the rifle-barrels, the crisp tramp of the marching feet, even the c.h.i.n.k of the chain bridles as the horses of the mounted officers shook their heads, all seemed to touch answering chords in his inmost heart, and awaken there the old love and longing for a soldier's life.

"The tailor he got off his knees, And to the ranks did boldly come: He said he ne'er would sit at ease, But go with the rest, and follow the drum!"

Jack hesitated no longer, but hurried back to pick up the few belongings he had left at the hotel, determined to put his project into execution without further delay.

CHAPTER XV.

THE QUEEN'S s.h.i.+LLING.

"If he had called out, 'Here I am,' it would have been all right; but he was too proud to cry out for help while he wore a uniform."--_The Brave Tin Soldier_.

There was no more hesitation or uncertainty about his movements now, and before he knew it, Jack found himself once more back at the barracks. The corporal on "gate duty," who, for want of something better to do, had been chastising his own leg with a "swagger cane,"

ceased in the performance of this self-imposed penance, and shot a significant glance at the stranger.

"Looking out for any one?" he inquired, by way of opening up a conversation.

"No," answered Jack; "the fact is, I've come to enlist. D'you think you could make a soldier of me?"

"Well, at any rate, I should say you were big enough," answered the corporal briskly. "Why, we ought to make a general of a smart young fellow like you, in less than no time!"

This seemed a promising commencement; but the adjutant, in front of whom Jack was conducted after undergoing a preliminary examination as to his height, chest measurement, and strength of eyesight, did not appear to be of quite so sanguine a temperament as the non-commissioned officer.

He eyed the would-be recruit with no very favourable expression on his face, as he prepared to take down the answers to the questions on the attestation paper.

"Name?"

"John Fenleigh."

"Is that a _nom de guerre_?"

"No, sir, it's my real name."

"Humph! So you speak French?"

Jack coloured slightly.

"No, sir--that is, I learned some at school."

The officer looked up, and laid his quill pen down on the table.

"Look here, my good fellow," he said, "it's not my business to ask what brings you here, but one thing I should like to know: how long do you expect you are going to remain in the army--a week, or six months?"

"The full time, I hope, sir."

"Are your parents living? And do they know of the step you're taking?"

"My father is living. I told him what I meant to do before I left home."

"Well," returned the officer, once more dipping his quill in the ink, "if you change your mind before to-morrow, you'll have to pay a sovereign; after that, it'll cost you ten pounds!"

The paper was filled up, and our hero received the historical s.h.i.+lling, which he slipped into his waistcoat pocket, having previously determined never to part with that particular coin, unless he were obliged. He was then conducted to the hospital, and there examined by the medical officer; his eyesight being once more tested by his having to count a number of white dots on a piece of black paper displayed on the opposite side of the room, each eye being covered alternately.

Having pa.s.sed satisfactorily through this ordeal, he was informed that he could not be sworn in before the following day, when he must present himself at the orderly room at eleven o'clock. Until that time he was free to do as he pleased; and being still in the possession of the greater portion of his previous week's salary, he chose to sleep another night at the hotel, and so spent the remainder of the day wandering about the streets of Melchester.

On the following morning, at the appointed hour, he returned to the barracks, and after some little delay, was brought into the presence of the commanding officer, where he was duly "sworn in," and signed his name to the declaration of allegiance.

"You'll join C Company," said the sergeant-major. "Just take him across, orderly, and show him the room."

With feelings very much akin to those of the "new boy" arriving for the first time at a big boarding-school, our hero followed his guide across the square, up a flight of stairs, and down a long corridor, amid a good deal of noise and bustle. The bugle had not long since sounded "Come to the cook-house door," and the dinner orderlies were hurrying back with the supply of rations for their respective rooms.