Soldiers of the Queen Part 37

For Jack he cherishes the fondest regard and deepest admiration, which he never hesitates to express in such words as these:--

"Aw, yes, sir! he's what I call the right sort, is Master Jack. He don't turn his back on an old c.u.mred, as some would. I 'member the day he bought himself out. 'Well, good-bye,' says I--'we've been soldierin' together a good time, and in some queer places; but now you're goin' back to be a gen'leman again, and I suppose we shan't see each other never no more.' 'I should be a precious poor gen'leman if I ever forgot you, Joe,' says he; 'you stood by me when I first came to barracks, and some day I hope I shall be able to do something for you in return.' And so he did, for he kept writin' to me, and when my time was up he got me this place. Look here, sir, the day he come to enlist the corporal at the gate says to him, 'We ought to make a general of such a fine chap as you;' and you take my word for it, that's just what they would have made of him, if he'd only stopped long enough!"

Of Barbara something might be said, but that something is for the present supposed to be a secret. Jack, who, like the average boy, always seemed to have a knack of finding out things that were intended to be kept private, knows more than he ought about this matter; and bringing out a handful of coppers at the table, and representing them to be the whole of his savings, declares that he will be "dead broke"

should any unforeseen circ.u.mstance necessitate his purchasing a wedding present. Whereupon his cousin blushes, and puts her fingers in her ears, and says, "I can't hear," but listens all the time.

Of Raymond Fosberton, perhaps the less said the better. His name has come very near being mentioned in a court of law, for forging his father's signature to a cheque, and is therefore seldom mentioned among his friends. One thing, however, might be told concerning his last visit to Brenlands.

A year after that eventful Christmas in Egypt, Jack was sitting before the fire in Queen Mab's parlour, when Raymond was announced, and shown into the room. He was dressed, as usual, in good though rather flashy clothes; but in spite of this, he looked cheap and common, and his general appearance gave one the impression of dirt wrapped up in silver paper. The moment he saw Jack a spiteful look came into his face, and he took no pains to conceal the old dislike and hatred with which he still regarded the latter.

"Hallo! so you've turned up again. I thought you'd soon get sick of soldiering; too much hard work to suit your book, I expect."

"No; I left it because I had a chance of something better. Aunt Mabel's out; will you wait till she comes back?"

Jack had seen more of the world since the day when he had knocked the visitor into the laurel bush; and could now realize that Queen Mab had spoken the truth when she said that punching heads was not always the most satisfactory kind of revenge. He had a score to settle with Raymond; but he regarded the latter now as a pitiful fellow not worth quarrelling with, and he hesitated, half-minded to let the matter drop without mentioning what was on his mind.

Fosberton mistook the meaning of the other's averted glance. He thought himself master of the situation, and, like a fool, having, figuratively speaking, been given enough rope, he promptly proceeded to hang himself.

"You've been lying low for a precious long time," he continued, maliciously. "Why didn't you come here before? You've been asked often enough!"

"I had my own reasons for stopping away."

"You didn't like to come back after the bother about that watch, I suppose?"

Jack let him run on. "That was partly it," he answered.

"Well, then," continued Raymond, with a sneer, "you made a great mistake bolting like that; you gave yourself away completely."

"I don't understand you," returned the other, with a sharper ring in his voice. "D'you mean to charge me again with having stolen the watch?"

"Pooh! I daresay you know what's become of it."

"Yes," answered Jack calmly, at the same time fixing the other with a steady stare, "I _do_ know what's become of it: at the present moment it's in its case in that cupboard there. Shall I show it you?"

The answer was so strange and unexpected that Raymond started; the meaning look in his cousin's eyes warned him that he was treading on dangerous ground. He had, however, gone too far to let the matter drop suddenly without any attempt to brazen out the situation.

"Humph!" he said; "I suppose you put it back yourself."

"I was the means of its being brought back. I found it in the pocket of an officer named Lawson who was killed in Egypt."

The withering tone and scornful curl of the lip was on the other side now. The visitor was fully aware of it, and winced as though he had been cut with a whip.

"Mr. Lawson had been stationed with the regiment at Melchester, and I happen to know how the watch came into his possession."

Raymond saw that he had rushed into a pitfall of his own making--he was entirely in his opponent's hands--and like the mean cur he was, immediately began to sue for forgiveness and terms of peace.

"Hus.h.!.+" he cried, glancing at the door. "Don't say any more, the servants might hear. I'm very sorry I did it, but you know how it was; I was pushed for money, I say, you haven't told any one, have you?"

"No. Uncle John and Aunt Mabel know; though I don't think you need fear that they will let it go any further."

"That's all right," continued Raymond, in a snivelling tone. "I was badgered for money, and I really couldn't help it. I've been sorry enough since. I don't think I'll wait any longer, I'm in rather a hurry. Well, good-bye. And look here, old chap--I'm afraid I treated you rather badly; but well let bygones be bygones. I don't want it to get to the governor's ears, so you won't mention it, will you?"

Jack cast a contemptuous glance at the proffered hand, and put his own behind his back.

"No; I won't tell any one," he answered shortly, then turned on his heel, and that was his revenge.

And now the only person remaining of whom a last word might be said at parting, is our hero himself.

It was a balmy evening in that eternal summer that seemed to reign at Brenlands; and he and Queen Mab were walking slowly round the green lawn, while the swallows went wheeling to and fro overhead.

Fastened to her bunch of trinkets next the locket was a silver coin--the enlisting s.h.i.+lling, which Jack had never parted with since he first received it on that memorable morning at the Melchester barracks.

"Yes," said Aunt Mabel, "it was Queen Victoria's once, but now it's mine!"

"Well, I think I earned it," he answered, laughing.

"Perhaps you'd like to go and earn another?"

"No; I'm too happy where I am. Uncle John is awfully good to me. He couldn't be kinder if I were his own son."

"So you're content at last to stay at home and take what's given you?"

"Yes; I think I've settled down at last. Dear old Val said that the lane would turn some time, and so it has. My luck's changed."

"I think I'd put it down to something better than that," said Queen Mab, smiling. "Perhaps it is not all luck, but a little of yourself that has changed."

Jack laughed again, but made no attempt to deny the truth of the suggestion. Possibly he felt that what she said was right, and that not only in his surroundings, but also in his own heart, had come at last the long lane's turning.

THE END.

Nelson's Books for Boys.

_The Books below are specially suitable for Boys, and a better selection of well-written, attractively-bound, and beautifully-ill.u.s.trated Gift and Prize Books cannot be found. The list may be selected from with the greatest confidence, the imprint of Messrs. Nelson being a guarantee of wholesomeness as well as of interest and general good quality. For further selections see under Ballantyne, Kingston, Nelson's "Royal" Libraries, etc._

_Many Ill.u.s.trated in Colours._

"CAPTAIN SWING." Harold Avery.

HOSTAGE FOR A KINGDOM. F. B. Forester.

FIRELOCK AND STEEL. Harold Avery.

A CAPTIVE OF THE CORSAIRS. John Finnemore.

THE DUFFER. Warren Bell.

A KING'S COMRADE. C. W. Whistler.