Draw Swords! Part 13

"Donkeys do go," said the captain dryly; "they've a pace of their own."

"Oh, yes," said d.i.c.k; "but old Thistle used to go after the pack like a greyhound. He was thin-legged and light, and he could jump like a buck; and when a hedge was too big he'd scramble up the bank, squeeze through, leap down, and be off again. We used to go over and through places which plenty of the gentlemen on their big hunters wouldn't tackle. It used to be capital fun."

"Ever have any falls?" said Wyatt.

"Oh, lots; but I never used to get much hurt. I didn't mind. Old Thistle came down with me once in a ditch, and rolled over me. He broke my arm, though."

"Father mend it?"

"Oh, yes; it soon grew together again. When I was bigger I had a pony; but he was never so fast as the donkey, and couldn't keep up so long."

"Indeed?"

"Nothing like it. That donkey would keep up to the end of a long run, and when it was over, and his saddle was off, he'd just have a roll and be ready to go on again."

"After the pony came a horse, I suppose," said the captain.

"I never had one of my own, but my father had a large practice and had to go very long distances. He always kept three horses, and I could have one of them whenever I liked. I used to ride round with him to visit his patients. He never cared about riding then. He had all the accidents to attend that happened at the hunt."

"How was it you didn't turn doctor?" said Hulton.

"Wanted to be a soldier," said d.i.c.k shortly. "I used to want to have a commission in the cavalry; but my father said he had no interest to get me a commission, and I must go to the Company's college at Addis...o...b.., and fight my way up so as to get into the horse brigade."

"And you were a lucky fellow to get appointed so soon."

"Yes; but my father knew Sir George Hemsworth, and he promised to help me if I could show a good set of testimonials from Addis...o...b..."

"And I suppose you did?" said Captain Hulton.

"I don't know," replied d.i.c.k quietly. "I tried all I could; but I was dreadfully disappointed to find I had to go into the foot artillery first."

"Thought you ought to have been appointed to the command of a troop of horse right off--eh?" said the captain.

d.i.c.k shook his head.

"I wasn't quite so stupid as that, sir," he said quietly.

"No, that you wouldn't be, Darrell," said the captain, smiling. "Well, I'll tell you something. We were dreadfully disappointed when we found Sir George had interested himself in your being appointed to our crack troop, and Wyatt, there, said it was an abominable shame for some pampered sc.r.a.p of a boy to be put into an important place, when hundreds of clever, experienced officers would have been glad to have such a feather in their caps."

"Here I say--gently!" cried Wyatt, who had sat at the table staring. "I didn't say that it was you."

"Was it?"

"Of course it was."

"Ah, yes, you're right--I did," said the captain coolly; "but you agreed to it."

"Yes, I agreed to it all."

"But we think differently, Darrell, now we have found out what sort of a fellow you are; and I'm speaking for old Wyatt here and myself when I tell you frankly that we're very glad you've joined us, and may it be many, many years before we part."

"Oh, thank you, Captain Hulton," cried d.i.c.k warmly. "You've made me feel that I--yes, that I--I--I can't say any more."

"n.o.body wants you to, my lad," said the captain warmly. "We want acts, not words. You've done a thing to-day that has won over every man in the troop, and henceforth you'll feel, I hope, that you are among friends."

"I do!" cried d.i.c.k warmly.

"You mustn't mind Wyatt. He's a queer fellow, but he means well."

"Here, I say--gently!" cried the gentleman named: but the captain went on as if no one had spoken:

"He's big and old, but he's a mere boy--not a bit older in brains than you are: but if you keep him in his place, I dare say you two will be able to get on together."

"I say, I'm not going to stand this!" cried Wyatt.

He took his friend's bantering remarks so seriously that d.i.c.k burst out laughing, making the lieutenant look annoyed for the moment; but by degrees a smile began to dawn upon his face.

"He sees the joke at last," cried Captain Hulton. Then gravely: "Look here Wyatt; I want to talk to you about that ugly business.--It will not interest you, Darrell. It is something which occurred before you joined--court-martial."

d.i.c.k took this as a hint that the matter was private, and he turned to converse with the next officer at the table--a sub-lieutenant in the detachment of foot artillery, very little older than himself.

CHAPTER TEN.

HIS MONKEY UP.

The preliminaries were soon settled, and d.i.c.k was seizing every opportunity to, as he said, "go round to the stables and have a look at my horse."

But "my" horse was far from perfect, and no one knew it better than the young officer himself.

He was a keen, observant fellow, and it did not take him long to notice that Burnouse was gentle with one of the late Captain Morrison's syces, while the sight of the other was enough to make the animal roll back his eyes and bare his teeth.

Wyatt, big and old as he was, to fully justify Captain Hulton's words that he was quite a boy still, showed it by attaching himself thoroughly to his young brother-officer, treating him just as if he were of the same age.

"I used to find it so dull, d.i.c.k," he said once in confidence, "before you came. Hulton's a splendid chap, and I quite love him like a brother, but he's such a serious old c.o.c.k. No fun in him for a companion. You and I are going to get on together, you know."

"I hope so," said d.i.c.k; "only I'm precious young, Mr Wyatt."

"_Mr_. Wyatt! Look here, young fellow, drop that; we're brother-officers. You're young, but you'll soon get over that. A fellow who can ride as you do, and drop into your place in the troop, with the men looking as proud of you and as smiling whenever you come on parade as if you were the very fellow they'd ride after anywhere, needn't talk about being young. Age has nothing to do with a man being a smart soldier. Look here; we're all glad you've joined, and there's an end of it."

But there was no end of Wyatt; he was always after his new brother-officer, and thoroughly enjoyed going with him to the stables to have a look at Burnouse, who, to do him justice, thoroughly hated him, and would not let him go near.

"Look here, Wyatt," said d.i.c.k one morning.

"I'm looking, old chap. What is it? He seems as fit as he can be, and as nasty-tempered as ever."

"Yes; that's what I wanted you to notice. Did you see him show his teeth then at Dondy Lal?"