CHAPTER VIII

PISTOL PRACTICE

"You are a rum fellow, Wyatt," one of the captains of the depôt of his

regiment said to Frank a fortnight after he joined.

"How am I rum?"

"Why, about that Russian fellow. I never heard of a young cornet

setting-to to work like a nigger, when there is no occasion in the world

for him to do so."

"There is no absolute occasion perhaps, but you see Russian may be very

useful some day."

"Well, yes, and so might any other out-of-the-way language."

"It is an off-chance, no doubt; still it is better to be doing something

that may turn out useful than to be walking up and down the High Street

or playing billiards. I don't spend much time over it now, for there is

a good deal to do in learning one's work, but when I once get out of the

hands of the drill-sergeant and the riding-master I shall have a lot of

time to myself, and shall be very glad to occupy some of it in getting

up Russian."

"Of course it is your own business and not mine, Wyatt; but I am afraid

you won't find things very pleasant if you take a line of your own and

don't go with the rest."

"I have no wish not to go with the rest," Frank protested. "When there

is anything to be done, whether it is hunting or any sort of sport, I

shall certainly take my share in it; but don't you think yourself,

Captain Lister, that it is much better for a fellow to spend part of his

time reasonably than in lounging about, or in playing billiards or

cards?"

"I don't say that it isn't better, Wyatt, but that is hardly the

question. Many things may be better than others, but if a fellow doesn't

go with the run he gets himself disliked, and has a very hard time of

it."

"I used to hear a good deal of the same thing when I was at school,"

Frank said quietly, "but I don't think I was disliked for sticking to

work sometimes, when other fellows were playing. Surely when one is from

morning till night with other men, it can matter to no one but himself

if he gives two or three hours a day to work."

"It does not matter to anyone, Wyatt. I am quite willing to grant it,

but for all that, I am afraid, if you stick to it, you will have to put

up with a great deal of chaff, and not always of a good-natured kind."

"I can put up with any amount of chaff," Frank replied; "I mean chaff in

its proper sense. Anything that goes beyond that, I shall, I hope, be

able to meet as it deserves. Perhaps it would be better if I were to

take half an hour a day off my Russian studies and to spend that time in

the pistol-gallery."

Captain Lister looked at him earnestly. "I think you will do,

youngster," he said approvingly, "that is the right spirit. There is a

lot of rough fun and larking in a regiment, and the man that goes

through it best, is he who can take a joke good-temperedly as long as it

does not go beyond the bounds of moderation, but who is ready to resent

any wilful insult: but I think you would be very wise to do as you say.

Half an hour in a pistol-gallery every day is likely to be of vastly

more use to you than any amount of Russian. The reputation that a man is

a crack shot with a pistol will do more than anything in the world to

keep him out of quarrels. Here at the depôt at any rate, where the

fellows are for the most part young, it would certainly save you a good

deal of annoyance if it were known that, although not by any means a

quarrelsome fellow, you were determined to put up with nothing beyond

good-humoured jokes. Well, lad, I don't want to interfere with your

hobby, only I advise you not to ride it too hard, at any rate at first.

When the men all know you and get to like you, and see that, apart from

this fancy of yours, you are an all-round good fellow, as I can see you

are, they will let you go your own way. At any rate, as captain of your

troop, I will do all I can to make things pleasant for you, but don't

forget about the pistol practice. At a depôt like this, where there are

half a dozen regiments represented, you will meet with a larger

proportion of disagreeable men than you would in your own ante-room. You

see, if colonels have such men, they are glad enough to rid the regiment

of them by leaving them at the depôt, and any serious trouble is more

likely to come from one of them than from anyone in your own regiment."

"I will take your advice, certainly," Frank said; "the more so that the

time spent in learning to be a good shot with a pistol will be most

useful in a campaign, even if there is no occasion ever to put it to the

test when at home."

"There is a gunsmith in St. Margaret's Street. It is a small shop, but

the man, Woodall is his name, has got a long shed that he uses as a

pistol-gallery, a quarter of a mile out beyond the gate. He is an

admirable shot himself as well as an excellent workman, and you can't do

better than go to him. Tell him that you want to become a good shot with

the pistol, and are willing to pay for lessons. If he takes you in hand

it won't be long before he turns you out as a fair shot, whether you

ever get beyond that depends on nerve and eye, and I should think that

you have no lack of either."

"I hope not," Frank said, with a smile. "At any rate I will see him this

afternoon."

"Put on your cap at once, and I will go down with you," Captain Lister

said; "and mind, I think if I were you I should say nothing about it at

the depôt until he tells you that he has done with you. Knowing that

the man is a learner might have just the opposite effect of hearing that

he is a crack shot."

In a quarter of an hour they arrived at the gunsmith's. "Woodall,"

Captain Lister said, "my friend, Mr. Wyatt, who has lately joined, has a

fancy for becoming a first-rate pistol shot."

"He couldn't have a more useful fancy, Captain Lister. My idea is, that

every cavalry-man--trooper as well as officer--should be a dead shot

with a pistol. The sword is all very well, and I don't say it is not a

useful weapon, but a regiment that could shoot--really shoot well--would

be a match for any three French regiments, though they were Boney's

best."'

"He wants you take him in hand yourself, Woodall, if you can spare the

time to do so; of course, he is ready to pay you for your time and

trouble, and would meet you at any hour you like to name in the

afternoon at your shed."

"All right, sir. It is a rum thing to me that, while every officer is

ready to take any pains to learn the sword exercise, they seem to think

that pistol-shooting comes by nature, and that, even on horseback, in

the middle of the confusion of a charge, you have only got to point your

pistol and bring down your man. The thing is downright ridiculous! It

will be a pleasure to teach you, Mr. Wyatt. I should say, from your

look, you are likely to turn out a first-rate shot."

"It won't be for want of trying if I don't," Frank replied.

"If you will take my advice, sir, you will learn to shoot with both

hands. For a civilian who never wants to use a pistol except in a duel,

the right hand is all that is necessary, but for a cavalry-man, the left

is the useful hand. You see an officer always carries his sword in his

right hand, and if he has got to shift it to his left before he can use

his pistol, he could never use it at all, if hard pressed in a fight.

Another thing is, that the left side is the weak side of a horseman.

His sword is all right in defending him if attacked on the right, but if

he is attacked on the left he is fighting under a big disadvantage. He

has much more difficulty in guarding himself on that side, and he has

nothing like the same reach for striking as he has on the other."

"That is quite true, now I come to think of it," Frank said; "though I

never gave it a thought before. Yes, I see that the left hand is the

most useful one, and I will practice with that as well as with the

other. Well, what hour will suit you?"

"It don't make much difference to me, sir; the evenings are getting

longer; you can see well enough until five."

"Well, then, shall we say half-past four?"

"Half-past four will suit very well, Mr. Wyatt. It is four o'clock now,

so if you like to take your first lesson to-day I will meet you at the

shed in half an hour. You cannot miss the place, it is on the right side

of the road and stands by itself, and there is my name over the door."

"Thank you; I will be there," Frank replied.

"I may as well come with you, Wyatt," Captain Lister said. "I will fire

a few shots myself, for I have had no practice for the last two years,

and I have a fancy to see what I can do with my left hand. I have never

tried with it, and I quite agree with Woodall that it is the left hand

that a cavalry-man should use."

Frank was a good deal surprised at first to see how much more difficult

it was to hit a mark, even at the distance of twelve paces, than he

imagined that it would be. Woodall would not allow him to take aim.

"You will never get a chance to do that, Mr. Wyatt, in a fight; you have

got to whip out your pistol, to throw up your arm and fire. It has got

to be done by instinct rather than by aim. It is all very well to aim

when you are on your feet and standing perfectly steady, but on a horse

half-mad with excitement, and perhaps going at a gallop, you could no

more hold your arm steady on a mark than you could fly. Put down the

pistol for a time. Now you know, sir, when you point at a thing with

your first finger extended, however quickly you do it, you will be there

or thereabout, and it is the same thing if you have got a pistol in your

hand. You see that black patch on the wall to the right of the target.

Now turn your back to it. Now, when I give the word, turn on your heels,

and the moment your eye catches that patch throw up your arm with your

forefinger extended and point to it. When you get it up there, hold it

as steady as you can. Now, sir!"

Frank did as he was ordered.

"Now, sir, look along your arm. You see you are pointing very nearly at

the centre of the patch. You are just a little high. Now try it with

your left. There, you see, you are not quite so accurate this time--you

are six inches to the left of the patch, and nearly a foot high.

Remember that it's always better to aim a little low than a little high,

for the tendency of the hand in the act of pulling the trigger is to

raise the muzzle. Now, sir, try that half a dozen times, using the hands

alternately. Very good! Now take this empty pistol--no, don't hold it

like that! Not one man in twenty, ay, not one in a hundred, holds a

pistol right, they always want to get the first finger on the trigger.

Now, you want the first finger to point with, the second finger is quite

as good to pull with, in fact better, for going straight, as it does,

with the arm, there is less tendency to throw up the muzzle. Now take it

like this; you see my forefinger lies along in the line of the barrel,

that is the really important point. Get into the way of always grasping

your pistol so that the first finger is in an exact line with the

barrel, then, you see, just as your finger naturally follows your eye

and points at the spot, so your pistol must be in the same line. It is

best to have the middle and third fingers both on the trigger, and the

little finger and thumb alone grasping the butt.

"You will find that a little difficult at first, but you will soon get

accustomed to it, and your little finger will rapidly gain strength,

and, you see, the hold of your first finger along the barrel helps the

other two to steady it. By having the middle and third fingers both on

the trigger, you give a pressure rather than a pull to it, and they will

soon come to give that pressure at the very moment when the first finger

gets on the mark aimed at. Now try it half a dozen times with the pistol

unloaded, and after pressing the trigger keep your hand and arm in as

nearly the same position, so as to see if it is pointing truly at the

mark. Very good! Now try with the left hand. There, you see, that hand

is not so accustomed to its work, and though you might have hit the

target, I doubt if either of the shots would have struck the inner

circle. Now we will try with the pistol loaded."

Six shots were fired alternately with the right and left hand. Those of

the former were all within a few inches of the bull's-eye, while none of

the others went wide of the outside.

"Very good, indeed," the gunsmith said. "I don't hesitate to say that in

a very short time you will become a fair shot, and at the end of three

months, if you practise regularly, a first-class one. Your hand is very

steady, your eye true, and you have plenty of nerve. Now, sir, I should

advise you to keep that unloaded pistol in the drawer of your table, and

whenever you have nothing else to do, spend five minutes in taking quick

aims at marks on the wall, using your hands alternately. Now, Captain

Lister, will you try a few shots?"

Taking a steady aim, Captain Lister put his bullets almost every time

into the bull's-eye, but, to Frank's surprise, when he came to try

quick firing in the way he had himself done, the captain's shooting was

much less accurate than his own.

"It is a question of eye," the gunsmith said next day, when Frank was

alone with him. "You see Captain Lister's shooting was fair when he took

a steady aim, but directly he came to fire as he would in action, and

that without the disturbing influences of excitement and of the motion

of his horse, he was nowhere. He did not even once hit the target in

firing with his left hand. He would certainly have missed his man and

would have got cut down a moment later, and even with his right hand his

shooting was very wild."

Captain Lister himself was evidently disconcerted at finding how useless

his target practice would be to him in the field, and, two or three

times in the next week, went with Frank to practise. He improved with

his right hand, but did not seem to obtain any accuracy in firing with

his left, while Frank, at the end of a month, came to shoot as well with

one hand as with the other.

Frank worked steadily at Russian, and although he found it extremely

difficult at first, soon began to make progress under his teacher, who

took the greatest pains with him. He soon got over the good-tempered

chaff of the subalterns of his detachment, who, finding that he was at

other times always ready to join in anything going on, and was wholly

unruffled by their jokes, soon gave it up. They agreed among themselves

that he was a queer fellow, and allowed him to go his own way without

interference. At the end of three months he was discharged from drill

and riding school, and had thenceforth a great deal more time on his

hands, and was able to devote three hours of a morning and two of an

afternoon to Russian.

He was delighted with his master, whom he came to esteem highly, finding

him a most intelligent companion as well as an unwearied teacher.

Strelinski, indeed, would have been glad to have devoted twelve hours a

day instead of five, could Frank have afforded the time. He was a very

different man now to what he was when he had first called at Sir Robert

Wilson's lodgings. He looked well and happy; his cheeks had filled out,

and he carried himself well; he dressed with scrupulous care, and when

Frank had no engagement with his comrades, the Pole accompanied him on

long rides on his spare charger, he having been accustomed to riding

from his childhood. From him Frank learned a great deal of the state of

things in Poland and Russia, and gained a considerable insight into

European politics, besides picking up a more intimate colloquial

knowledge of Russian than he gained at his lessons. Of an evening Frank

not unfrequently went to parties in the town. The gallant deeds of our

troops in Spain had raised the military to great popularity throughout

the country, and the houses of all the principal inhabitants of

Canterbury were hospitably opened to officers of the garrison.

Many of the young men preferred billiards and cards in the mess-room,

but Frank, who declined to play billiards, and had not acquired

sufficient skill at cards to take a hand at whist, was very glad to

accept these invitations. He specially enjoyed going to the houses of

the clergy in the precincts of the cathedral; most of them were very

musical, and Frank, who had never heard much music at Weymouth, enjoyed

intensely the old English glees, madrigals, and catches performed with a

perfection that at that time would have been hard to meet with except in

cathedral towns.

After three months the gunmaker no longer accompanied Frank to his

shooting-gallery.

"It would be robbing you to go on with you any longer, Mr. Wyatt. When a

man can turn round, fire on the instant and hit a penny nine times out

of ten at a distance of twelve paces, there is no one can teach him

anything more. You have the best eye of any gentleman I ever came

across, and in the twenty years that I have been here I have had

hundreds of officers at this gallery, many of them considered crack

shots. But I should go on practising, if I were you, especially with

your left hand. It is not quite so good as the right yet, although very

nearly so. I will come down once a week or so and throw up a ball to you

or spin a penny in the air; there is nothing like getting to hit a

moving object. In the meantime you can go on practising at that plummet

swinging from the string. You can do that as well by yourself as if I

were with you, for when you once set it going it will keep on for five

minutes. It is not so good as throwing up a penny, because it makes a

regular curve; but shooting, as you do, with your back to it, and so not

able to tell where it will be when you turn round, that don't so much

matter."

"What is the best shooting you ever heard of?"

"The best shot I ever heard tell of was Major Rathmines. He could hit a

penny thrown up into the air nineteen times out of twenty."

"Well, I will go on practising until I can do that," Frank said. "If a

thing is worth doing it is worth doing well."

"And you will do it, Mr. Wyatt; there is nothing you could not do with

practice."

"There is one thing I wish you would do for me--that figure you have got

painted as a target is ridiculous. I wish you would get some one who has

an idea of painting to do another figure. I want it painted, not

standing square to me, but sideways, as a man stands when he fights a

duel. I want it drawn with the arm up, just in the same position that a

man would stand in firing. I hope I shall never be called upon to fight

a duel. I think it is a detestable practice; but unfortunately it is so

common that no one can calculate on keeping out of it--especially in the

army."

"Well, sir, you need not be afraid of fighting a duel, for you fire so

mighty quick that you would be certain of getting in the first shot,

and if you got first shot there would be an end of it."

"Yes, but that would be simple murder--neither more nor less, whatever

people might call it--and I doubt whether, accustomed as I am to fire

instantly the moment I catch sight of a thing, that I could help hitting

a man in the head. Now what I want to become accustomed to is to fire at

the hand. I should never forgive myself if I killed a man. But if ever I

did go out with a notorious duellist who forced the duel upon me, I

should like to stop his shooting for the rest of his life. So I want to

be able to hit his hand to a certainty. Of course the hand is an easy

enough mark, and by getting accustomed to the height and the exact

position it would be in, I should get to hit it without fail."

"A very good idea, sir. The hand is not much of a mark when holding a

pistol, still it is a good bit bigger than a penny piece, and you would

soon get to hit it just as certainly."

For the next three months Frank fired fifty shots a day--twenty-five

with each hand--and at the end of that time could hit a penny thrown up

by Woodall, eighteen times out of twenty.

"That is good enough," he said; "now I shall only practise once a week,

to keep my hand in."

Frank had not been without an incentive to gain exceptional proficiency

with a pistol. Although he got on very well with his comrades of his own

depôt, there was a captain of a lancer regiment who had not unfrequently

taxed his patience to its farthest limit. The man was a noted duellist,

and was known to be a dead shot. On the strength of this, he was in the

habit of making remarks so offensive, that they would have at once been

taken up, if uttered by anyone else in barracks. For the last two months

he had made a special butt of a young cornet, who had recently joined

the depôt of the Dragoons. He was a pleasant lad, with plenty of spirit

and pluck, but he had a slight impediment in his speech, although when

giving the word of command he never hesitated. It was this defect that

was the object of Captain Marshall's ill-natured remarks. The lad tried

to laugh them off and to ignore the offensiveness of the tone, but he

felt them deeply, and confided to Frank--to whom he had specially

taken--that he could not stand it much longer.

"I never used a pistol in my life until you advised me the other day to

take some lessons from Woodall, and of course he would put a bullet

through my head; but I can't help that. As it is, everyone must think me

a coward for standing it, and at any rate I can show them that I am not

that."

"Don't you mind, Wilmington," Frank said one day, "and don't make a fool

of yourself. You put up with it a little longer, and something may occur

to put a stop to it. He may go away on leave, or he may get a hint that

he had better retire from the service. I have heard that it is likely

enough that he will get a hint the next time he has an affair of this

sort. The last two were with civilians, and I believe that is the reason

why so few accept our invitations to mess; but I fancy if he gets into

trouble again with one of ourselves he will have to go."

"Well, I will try to go on a little longer if you say so, Wyatt, but--"

"There are no 'buts' in it, Wilmington. You must give me your word of

honour that you will go on as you have done. Don't be afraid of anyone

thinking you a coward. There is no cowardice in refusing to fight a man

who is so much your superior in skill that it would be nothing short of

suicide in standing up against him. I have a private reason for

believing that it won't last long."

"In that case I will give you my word of honour, Frank."

A week later there was an unusually large party at mess, the depôts were

very strong, and some forty officers sat down; and it being a guest

night, four or five civilians were present. Dinner went on without

incident until one of the mess waiters asked Wilmington whether he would

take sirloin of beef or goose. He replied, "B-b-b-b-beef." There

happened to be a slight lull in the conversation at the moment, and

Wilmington's effort to get the word out made him raise his voice so that

it was generally heard.

"Waiter," Captain Marshall said loudly, "bring me some g-g-g-g-goose."

Wilmington's face flushed and then turned deadly pale. He looked

appealingly at Frank, who was sitting next to him. The latter whispered,

"Remember your word of honour. Get up and leave the room." There was a

dead hush from those present as the young cornet rose and left the room,

and then a low murmur of indignation. Captain Marshall looked round

searchingly, as if to pick out one of those who had thus shown signs of

resentment. But directly the door closed upon Wilmington, Frank rose to

his feet.

"I wish, Mr. President," he said in a clear, steady voice, "to ask you,

whether a man who, relying upon his skill with the pistol, wantonly

insults another, is not a blackguard and unfit for the society of

gentlemen?"

Had a thunderbolt fallen in the room those present could not have been

more surprised. Some of Frank's comrades knew that he often went to

Woodall's shooting-gallery to practise with the pistol, but they had no

idea that he had attained any great skill in its use, and their

impression when he spoke was that he must have gone out of his mind thus

publicly to insult Marshall. The latter was at least as much astonished

as anyone else. He started as if struck with a blow, and then, leaning

across the table, he said in a low voice to Frank, who was sitting just

opposite to him:

"Of course, you are prepared to answer to me for this, Mr. Wyatt?"

"Certainly," Frank said carelessly; "and at any time you please."

There was a strange hush in the dining-room until the cloth was removed.

The guests, under one excuse or another, took their departure almost

immediately after the king's health had been drunk; the officers talked

in low tones together, and very soon rose from the table.

"Will you act for me, Captain Lister?" Frank said, going up to him

quietly.

"Certainly, lad; but this is a horrible business. If it had been merely

an ordinary quarrel the colonel would have interfered to stop it, but

after what you said before us all, and with strangers present too, I am

afraid it must go on. You must be mad, lad. I have not seen you shoot

since that first evening when we went down, and two or three times

shortly afterwards. Woodall told me that you were getting on well; but

however well you may have got on, you can be no match with a pistol for

a man like Marshall; and you may be sure he won't spare you after so

public an affront."

"I must take my chance," Frank said quietly. He had himself begged the

gunmaker to say little to anyone about his shooting. "Come across to my

quarters. I suppose he will be sending over there at once."

They had just taken their seats when there was a hurried knock on the

door, and Wilmington came in, pale and agitated.

"This cannot go on, Wyatt!" he exclaimed. "You put me on my word of

honour and then take it up yourself. Don't you see that I am hopelessly

disgraced in letting you be Marshall's victim for what he said of me. I

shall go to him and insist upon my right to take the matter up myself."

"Sit down a minute, Wilmington, and be reasonable. If I get shot you

can, if you like, go out and get shot next day. But I don't mean to get

shot. There is one broad distinction between you and me--you can't

shoot, and I can. Marshall could kill you without the slightest risk to

himself, and I flatter myself that if I chose to do so, I could kill him

with the same certainty. I shall not choose to do so. I don't want the

blood of any man--not even of a ruffian like this--to rest upon my head.

I shall simply prevent him from ever fighting another duel."

Captain Lister and the young cornet gazed at Frank as if they doubted

his sanity.

"Do you quite know what you are saying, lad?" the former said kindly,

after a pause. "You don't look as if you had been taking anything before

dinner, and we know that you are always abstemious at mess; still you

are talking strangely."

"I daresay you think so," Frank replied with a smile. "You fancy the

excitement of this quarrel has a little turned my head. But it has not

done so. In the first place, I have learnt to be so quick in firing that

I am sure to get first shot."

"Yes, you might do that, lad," Captain Lister said sadly; "but it would

be the very worst thing you could do. With a hurried shot like that it

would be ten to one you missed him, and then he would quietly shoot you

down."

"Not only shall I not miss him," Frank replied, "but I will lay you any

wager you like that I will carry off his trigger-finger, and probably

the second and third. Feel my hand. You see I am perfectly cool--as cool

as I shall be to-morrow--and I do not think there is anything wild about

my eye. It is simply as I say: I am a first-rate shot--probably as much

better than Marshall as he is better than Wilmington. Ah, here is his

man! Please arrange it for to-morrow morning, if possible. The sooner it

is over the better."

Captain Lister nodded and went out. He returned in a quarter of an hour.

"It is to come off to-morrow," he said, "at six o'clock. It is to be in

the field outside the wall, on the other side of the town. I have told

my man to have the dogcart ready at half-past five. It did not take us

long to arrange matters. His second is Rankin, of his regiment; and I

don't think he liked the job at all. He began by saying:

"'I am afraid, Captain Lister, that there is no chance of our arranging

this unhappy business. Nothing short of a public apology, and the

acknowledgment that Mr. Wyatt was in liquor when he uttered the words

will satisfy my principal, and I had great difficulty in bringing him

even to assent to that.'

"I said that you had not the most remote idea of making any apology

whatever. Therefore, we had only to arrange the preliminaries of a

meeting.

"This was soon done. I could see that the young fellow was very much cut

up over the affair, and that he had undertaken to act for Marshall

because he was afraid to refuse. It did not take us five minutes

altogether. I looked in at the doctor's after we separated, to ask him

to go with us.

"'It is none of my aid you are likely to want, Captain Lister,' he said,

'and I protest against the whole affair; it is nothing short of

cold-blooded murder. Still, of course, I will go.'

"And now, lad, let us hear something more about your shooting."

"It is just as I told you, Captain Lister. I suppose I have an unusually

good eye and steady hand, and have a sort of natural aptitude for

shooting. Woodall said that he considered me as good a shot as any man

in the country, if not better. I am afraid we mustn't fire a pistol

here, or I think I could convince you."

"No, we mustn't fire in barracks at this time of the evening, Wyatt. But

if you are as good as that, the prospects are better than I thought they

were. What can you do, lad?"

"I can hit a penny spun up into the air eighteen times out of twenty

with my right hand, and sixteen or seventeen with my left."

"Is that so? Well, that ought to be good enough for anything," Lister

said. "It sounds almost miraculous. Now, let us have a look at your

pistols, lad."

"They are all right," Frank said. "I was using them this afternoon, and

cleaned them when I came back."

"And you really mean to aim at his hand?"

Frank nodded.

"Well, of course, if you go a little high or a little low you will still

have him; but if you go an inch or two wide you may miss him altogether.

I would much rather, lad, that you aimed at the body. The fellow has

never shown mercy to anyone, and there is no reason why you should show

mercy to him."

"Don't be afraid of my missing him." And Frank spoke so confidently that

his hearers felt satisfied he must at least have some good foundation

for his faith in his skill.

"Well, I think you had better turn in now, Wyatt. Will you come across

and have a cup of coffee with me before you start?"

"Thank you. Will you mind sending your servant across to call me at a

quarter to five? I am not at all good at waking myself."

"All right, lad; I don't think I am likely to get much sleep."

"Don't say much to the others when you go out," Frank said. "You can

tell them that, from what I say, it won't be such a one-sided affair as

they seem to think."

"All right. I will tell them as much as that, for they are in such a

state of mind about it that it would be kind to give them a little

consolation."

"By the way, Captain Lister, do I go out in uniform or in mufti?"

"In mufti, lad. Put on a gray or dark-coloured suit. Gray is the best;

but, above all, don't take a coat with conspicuous buttons or anything

to catch the eye, that would be a fatal mistake. Good night, lad; I

shall turn in in better spirits than I expected to do."

Wilmington did not speak, but grasped Frank's hand warmly.

"Don't come out to-morrow," Frank said.

"I couldn't," the lad replied in a broken voice, "but I shall see you

before you start."

"The major will come on with the doctor," Captain Lister said, as, after

taking their coffee next morning, they went out to the trap standing at

the door. Frank looked round the barrack yard, but no one was about. "I

sent them all away before you came, Wyatt. The lads all looked so

woebegone that I put it to them whether they considered that the sight

of their faces was likely to improve your nerve. As to young Wilmington,

he was like a ghost. I had almost to threaten to put him under arrest

before I could persuade him to go without seeing you. No one will be

there but the major. He told me that he considered it his duty to

represent the regiment, but he quite approved of all the others staying

away. He said the fewer there were present at an infamous business like

this the better. By the way, I made a condition with Rankin that you

were to be placed back to back, and neither was to move until the signal

was given; and I insisted that this should be by pistol shot, as

otherwise you could not both see the signal equally well. I said that

this was fairer than for you to stand face to face, and would increase

the chances of the affair not being a fatal one."

"Thank you, Lister. I was wondering whether you had made that condition,

for if we stood ready to fire he might draw his trigger before I did,

and things might go quite differently to what I had decided on. A bad

marksman might hold his fire, but Marshall would rely so implicitly on

his skill that he would be sure to try and get first shot; for if I

fired first and missed, he would know that the feeling against him if he

shot me down afterwards would be very strong."

"Now jump up, lad; I will take the reins. All right."

The soldier servant standing at the head of the horse released the hold

of the reins, swung himself up behind as the horse started and they

drove out through the barracks gates, followed by the eyes of all

Frank's comrades who, as soon as they heard the sound of the wheels, ran

to their windows or doors to take, as they believed, their last look at

him. They had, indeed, obtained slight consolation from the words with

which Captain Lister had sent them off to their quarters--"Keep up your

spirits, lads. There is many a slip between the cup and the lip, and I

have strong hopes that the affair is not going to turn out as bad as you

fancy."

Through Russian Snows: A Story of Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow · 第 8 / 16 章