VC -- A Chronicle of Castle Barfield and of the Crimea

was impossible to intercept him, and the snick of the bolt in the lo

e, hastily assumed these stouter garments, and having encased his legs in a pair of strong leather leggings, he opened his bedroom door, blew out his candle, and went swiftly down the stairs into the hall. There the wreckage-of an hour or two ago was all piled together in one corner, but groping among

rd nothing but the insane noises of the night. Suddenly, he drew the door towards him violently, and it closed with a slam and a snap. He was outside, and the thing he had purposed was accomplished. He had said good-bye to th

try-side for a mile or two, and he found the path with ease and certainty, and ploughed along it as surely as if it had been broad daylight, though the night was black as a wolf's mouth. The bitter wind and driving rain were welcome to his hot eyes and scalded face, and he walked with a swift resolution until he had reached the spot from which in dayligh

ame, on the very words he meant to use in telling Irene that he loved her. Only an hour or two since every thought was ful

to character. It was a boy who dreamed the happy dreams of that evening; it was a man wh

ar spaces in the sky out of which the stars began to shine keen and clear. The storm was over by the time when, after two hours of brisk walking, he had reached his journey's end, and found himself before the long bleak wall of the cavalry barracks of the great Midland town. He had a long spell of waiting before him, and seating himself on a hewn stone at the side of the barrack gate he filled and lit his pipe, and p

Wake

hurry-a hurry-

e! Wake

the inmates of which have been disturbed, and a little while later the bugl

that a

n to the

horses and give

you don

nel shal

e punished the

with a carbine tucked beneath his arm and began to pace up and down

ruiting here

man answered. 'Do

on n

oom,' the sentry told him. 'Go through

ped about it, the baby might be anybody's child-a Duke's, or a ploughman's. But the livery of its unfortunate estate marks and stamps it at once and gives it the social caste and cachet it is doomed to wear. But it is not so when time has developed character, and a change of garb does not work an actual transformation in the gro

t he had been betrayed into a sign of respect for one who was willin

ait there till the or

down quietly and waited. Uniformed men came and went, and nobody took heed of h

this

ant turned on him. 'Take your cap off, and walk into that room.' Polson obeyed again, and found himself

join, sir,' sai

and rose to his feet

ase! What are y

Queen's shilling, Vol

ther asked. 'Go outside, Sergeant. I want to

old schoolfellow, and old Oxford comrade. It had not occurred to him to think what regiment was quartered in Birmingham at

ld fellow, are you?'

olson, 'I'm q

h and just as little as you want to. But before you take a ste

hinking I have need for, and I've made

amongst your own set; but a gentleman ranker is certain to have a hell of a time. He has all the non-coms on to him out of jealousy; and he's bullied and browbeaten beyond endurance. As for the mere rough side

I shan't be the first to try it, and I dare

ertinence on your part to call me "old chap" in half an hour's time, and you mustn't do it. When you catch sight of me, it'll be your business to stand up as stiff as a

' Polson answered, 'I'v

wilful will. You haven't been getting

done nothing that I have

w with th

es

ivate soldier's life is a dog's life for a m

I've quite made up my mind, and all the ta

such as recruiting sergeants were wont to pin in the hats of their recruits. And Polson, toying wi

the cap and rising to his

formally enlisted, and to answer a rigmarole of questions, and be examined by the

h as little waste of time as possible, for, to tell you the truth, I want that

like you to take me into your confidence, because I might be of some use. I'm stinking rich, you know

have made any scruple about saying so. I can't talk about i

olnay asked. 'There's no get

,' Polson answered, 'an

n a quarter of an hour's time, and I'll put you through. You needn't scruple about taking it: you can pay me back, f

though they had but a slight knowledge of each other, had found time to develop a savage dislike on either side. De Blacquaire was a man with an exasperatingly cold and supercilious fashion of speech. He was a band-box dandy, and went scented like a lady. Polson had once threatened him with a horse-whip, and the Major had withdrawn from the conflict not because he had any want of physical courage, but solely because he was too much of a fine gentleman to brawl. He had never forgotten or forgiven the

icking drawl. 'You've mad

I'll ram it down your throat, and

t position, Private Jervase.' He turned away and, with the whip he carried in his hand, struck a resounding

ty, if you pleas

hose ribbons, my man,'

riend Popinjay,' said Polson.

listed, Volnay?'

e what terms you're on, I shall advise him very strongly

e minutes. You'd be a handsome chap in your own way, Major, if it were not for that silly sneer you're pleased to carry about with you. But I warn you that, under

is he, Volnay?' said De Blacq

ay. 'A very old

r Varna to-morrow, and I don't suppose that I shall meet the gentleman again. I want a

a quarter of an h

ad left the room, 'I'm devilish glad you're going, De Blacquaire, and the whole regi

ions as to name, age, and employment. Was he married? No. Was he an apprentice? No. Had he ever at any time offered himself for Her Majesty's service, and been refused? No. Had he ever been tried for any criminal offence? No. Then here was the Queen's shilling, and he was enlisted to serve Her Maje

irty pounds; but we shall be off to Varna in a week or two, and the Queen won't spare a man she has once laid han