"Hist, hist; he'll be after hearing you," he said, in the same tone as
before; "but come on now."
He turned and led the way across the bog. I leaped when I saw him leap,
and kept directly in his footsteps, and often the ground quaked as I
passed, or moved up and down like a raft at sea. As we moved on, the
water got up to my ankles; then over them. I thought that Pat had lost
his way, but he kept on without stopping or turning to one side or the
other. The water got deeper and deeper, indeed there seemed to be
nothing but water around; then once more it began to shoal, and at last
I found that we were walking on dry ground, but still of a very boggy
nature. At last we were in something like a path, with peat-holes on
either side. It was quite dark before we reached the heath or dry
ground I was looking for. Pat even then, I found, kept away from the
road I was to have taken. After going a little way I thought that I saw
some figures through the gloom. Pat thought so too, for he pulled at my
coat-sleeve, and whispered to me to crouch down. I did so for some
time, and then again we pushed on. Pat led the way till we got into a
road I knew, leading direct to my quarters. He then told me to hurry
on, and before I had time to put my hand in my pockets to give him some
money, he was off.
At muster-roll that evening, one of our men, Jackson, did not answer to
his name. He had been sent in the direction I had gone. The next
morning he did not appear. A party, of which I formed one, was sent out
to look for him. Not far from some bushes, with a hole behind them,--a
place made for an ambush,--we came upon some blood in the road. We
hunted about. There were the marks of men's feet at the edge of the
road. After hunting some time, one of our men cried out, "Here he is!"
There, in a hole, half covered with water, lay our comrade. At first it
was thought that he might have fallen in, but two dark marks by the side
of his head showed where a brace of slugs had entered it. I felt sure
that they had been intended for me. It seemed as if I had wronged him.
Poor fellow! we bore him sadly homeward. I judged it right to tell my
captain what I knew of the matter, and a warrant was issued for the
apprehension of Shane McDermot. Parties were sent out to search for
him, but he was not to be found. There were plenty among the country
people to help him. The only thing some of them seemed to think that he
had done wrong was, that he had shot the wrong man. Kathleen was
thankful that I had escaped, but glad to be rid of Shane. It was not
likely that he would venture back to the neighbourhood while we were
there.
After some time, my company was ordered back to head-quarters, to be
relieved by another. Kathleen bade me tell Marshall that she remained
faithful to him, and loving as ever.
I gave the message to Marshall. It raised his spirits, and yet he could
scarcely believe that so pretty a girl, and one in some respects so
superior to himself, should care for a poor soldier. However I told him
that it was a good reason why he should attend to his duties more
strictly, and try to obtain promotion to be able to support her. The
wife of even a non-commissioned officer has a hard time of it; of a man,
still worse; but worst off of all is the wife of one who marries without
leave.
On getting back, I found a notice posted that all men wishing to go on
"furlough" must send in their names to the captains of companies at
once. I sent in mine, as I had saved enough pay for my expenses, and
through the kindness of the sergeant-major and adjutant obtained a
furlough for six weeks, to proceed from Cork to B-- in the county of
E--, and took my passage in the steamer to London. We had a fine view
of the coast from the Land's End in Cornwall, to the North Foreland in
Kent.
Landing in London, I went to an inn, breakfasted, cleaned myself so as
to look as smart as I could, and set off home. How different I felt now
to what I did leaving home a year ago. I opened the door and looked in.
They were all at dinner. What cries of delight and shrieks and
laughter there were, though my sisters vowed they scarcely knew me, I
had grown so stout and manly. I was made heartily welcome, and had a
very happy time of it. I went to see my old friends at the barracks; I
was welcomed by them too, but many had been sent off to India.
I must be moving on though with my story. After spending a happy five
weeks at home, I returned to Cork at the proper time. I was rather
vexed to find the morning after, that all men returned off furlough were
to fall in for recruit drill. However, as I was the youngest of any of
them, I had no reason to complain. I thought, "I'll just show that I
don't require it;" so I pulled myself together, and was dismissed
recruit drill next day.
Soon after this I gained what it had been my hope from the first to
get--that is, promotion,--and was made lance-corporal. I wished that
Marshall could have got the same, for Kathleen's sake, but he was not so
fortunate. The difference was this,--I had a taste for soldiering, born
with me perhaps: he had not.
I was soon after sent off on detachment duty to Spike Island, in the
Cove of Cork or Queenstown Harbour. Our duty was to guard a prison full
of convicts, not the pleasantest in the world, though I well knew that
there wasn't a man within those walls who did not richly deserve his
lot. I only wish that evil-disposed men knew better than they do what
it is to be shut up in a place of the sort; they would take some pains
to gain an honest livelihood rather than run the risk of being sent
there.
The harbour is a very beautiful one, surrounded almost by high hills,
many of them well wooded, and so is the whole way up to Cork. While I
was there a new batch of convicts came in; among them I saw a face I
felt sure I knew. It was that of Shane Mcdermot. He cast a look of
surprise at me, as much as to say, "Why, I thought that I had shot you."
I could not exchange words with him; but the more I watched his
countenance, the more certain I was that it was him. I concluded that
he had committed a crime in another part of the country, and had been
convicted, and sent on here. There he was, and there I hoped, for the
sake of my friends, he would remain.
I was not sorry when we were ordered back to head-quarters. Soon
afterwards the regiment went to Dublin, where we were stationed,
scattered about in different barracks, and doing garrison duty for two
years or more. During that time I again went on furlough. If I had
been proud of appearing at home before, I was prouder still now to
return as a non-commissioned officer, and I felt pretty sure that as I
had gained one step I should gain another. I was heartily welcomed, but
somehow or other that second going home was not equal to the first,
three years before. Many changes had taken place among my friends: some
had gone away, some were dead, some married. Still I was very happy,
but I had an idea that it might be a long time before I should go back
to the old place.
On my return to Dublin I had to go on recruit drill for a day, as
before, when the sergeant-major gave me and others a hint, which we
wisely took, to have our hair cut for the next parade. For another year
after this we were kept here on garrison duty, with some pretty hard
field-days in the Phoenix Park, and the usual marchings out in winter.