Gil the Gunner Part 8

I was kept waiting for some little time before an orderly bade me follow him, and directly after, I found myself in the presence of four stern-looking officers, who began to question me severely, one beginning as soon as another ceased.

I suppose my replies were satisfactory, all being on technical matters connected with field-gunnery, but what it all meant, unless I was to be promoted, I could not tell.

At last the officer who seemed to be the head, turned to me.

"Look here, Lieutenant Vincent," he said; "this sharp examination is due to the fact that some pressure has been brought to bear, to have you transferred to the horse artillery."

I turned scarlet with excitement. "Well, sir, we naturally resent this, as we are proud of our horse service, and do not want some lout with interest to back him, foisted upon us. It would be degrading, but I tell you frankly that we are favourably impressed."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"We have carefully gone into your antecedents. We find that you are the son of a distinguished officer in the Queen's service; that your career at Brands...o...b.. was excellent, and we learn nothing but good of you in connection with your year's work here."

I bowed.

"Of course, we push you forward reluctantly, for it is a great honour to such a youth as you are. Why, you will be the youngest officer in the horse artillery."

"I am young, sir," I said, humbly, but with my heart beating fast.

"And there is another thing before this is settled. What about riding?"

"I can ride anything, sir," I said eagerly.

"Indeed!"

"I have hunted a great deal at home."

"Ah, well, I suppose we must give way, and I hope you will prove worthy of your promotion to so gallant a corps. By the way, you know Captain Brace?"

"Oh yes, sir," I replied.

"Yes; he speaks very highly of you. So you shall go on probation with his troop at Rambagh."

I tried to speak, but no words came.

"Which means, Mr Vincent," said another of the old officers, "that if you prove yourself a soldier of spirit you will stay."

I hardly knew what followed, and soon after I was dismissed, to go and find Brace, who welcomed me with outstretched hands.

"I am very glad, Vincent," he said, "very glad indeed. Come along with me, and I'll introduce you to Major Lacey, and the other officers of your new corps."

CHAPTER SIX.

"You miserable, ugly, lazy n.i.g.g.e.r, take that, and that, and that."

There was the sound of blows at each _that_, and then a volley of abuse as I neared the officers' quarters, and every word and blow came through the open windows.

"Confound you! do you think I keep you to do nothing but sleep? I'll have my horses look better than any one else's, and they look worse,"

came clearly; and there were more blows, while a group of white-clothed syces, two of whom held horses, looked at one another, and I saw that their faces wore a troubled aspect, as they whispered as soon as the English sentry on guard by the gateway turned his back to march steadily in the shade to the end of his beat, but as soon as he faced round they stood like bronze statues.

Then came more blows, and it was evident to me that the trouble, or whatever it might be, was taking place in the quarters to which I had been directed; but I wanted to make sure, and I turned out of my way to meet the sentry, who halted and saluted as I drew near.

"Which are Lieutenant Barton's quarters?" I said.

"Straight in front, sir. Through that door where the horses stand."

"Is there something the matter?"

The man grinned. "Lieutenant's licking his syce, sir, for being dirty."

"Oh!" I said; and I was about to turn away, when the man said respectfully--

"Beg pardon, sir; you don't know me again."

"No," I said, looking at the man in a puzzled way. "Yes, of course; you are Denny. I did not expect to find you here. How are you?"

"Nicely, sir, thank ye. I was picked with two more to enter this troop.

Very glad, sir, you are appointed to it."

"Thank you, Denny," I said. "It is pleasant to see the same faces."

"Beg pardon, sir," continued the man eagerly. "I oughtn't to talk like this, perhaps, but I got a letter from London yesterday, and she's all right, and ain't no worse for being pretty nigh drowned; and she said if ever I see the young gent as saved her life, as she'd always pray for him that he might live long and die happy."

"Oh, don't talk about it, Denny," I said hastily. "Thank you. That door where the syces are with the horses?"

"Don't stand sulking there, you black-looking scoundrel. It won't do with me; I'll cut it out of you."

There was the sound of more blows, and then, as I nearly reached the doorway, where the native servants made way respectfully, I heard what was evidently the final blow, and the words, "Now get out."

Directly after, a tall native in white came out, with his face convulsed and the blood streaming down one cheek from a cut on the left temple, and staining his white cotton garment; but as he came upon me, his countenance suddenly grew unnaturally calm, and he drew up on one side and saluted, as if nothing was the matter, though I could see that he was trembling like a leaf.

Discipline had already taught me that I had no right to interfere with the actions of my superior officers, but human nature had made me already resent the way in which overbearing Englishmen bullied and ill-used the patient, long-suffering natives; and as I had heard the sounds of abuse and blows coming across the compound, a curious sensation of shame and annoyance made me feel hot and uncomfortable; and now as I came suddenly face to face with the good-looking, dark-faced man, with his bleeding temple, I hurriedly drew out a clean white handkerchief, doubled it into a bandage, and signing to the man to bend down, tied it tightly, bandage fashion, over what was a very severe cut.

The man shrank from me for a moment, as if my action repelled him, but the next he had crossed his hands humbly over his breast, and bent forward.

The act on my part was very quickly done, and then he raised his head, and his eyes met mine with a look that I could not read, but I could see that his lips were quivering, and the side of his head left uncovered was full of lines.

The next moment I had remembered that I was an officer, and drew myself up stiffly.

"Is Lieutenant Barton in his rooms?" I said, in what I meant to be sharp, authoritative tones.

"Yes; what do you want?" came out through the window; and I stepped forward, catching one peculiar look from the injured man again, and noticing that the other syces salaamed to me as I pa.s.sed out of the glare of sunshine, into the comparative darkness of a mat-hung pa.s.sage, and from thence into a comfortable room well-furnished with cane chairs, gay Indian rugs, and curtains, and with a light table, on which stood a cigar-box, a bottle or two, and gla.s.ses. Between them lay a stout, silver-topped malacca cane, evidently the instrument with which the native groom had been chastised.

But the princ.i.p.al object in the room was a fair-haired, supercilious-looking young man of seven or eight and twenty, in the lightest of pyjamas, and with a scarlet sash about his waist.

He was lolling back in a reclining-chair as I entered, and he wrinkled his face, half-closing his eyes, and drawing his heavy moustache close up under his nose in a very unpleasant way, as he stared at me.