ENLISTED.
Edgar had found but little difficulty in getting out from the house. He
had timed himself so as to arrive at the station just before the train
left for Gloucester, and taking his ticket, had slipped into an empty
carriage. At Gloucester there was half an hour to wait before the
up-train came in. This time he got into a carriage with several other
people. He did not want to spend the night thinking, and as long as his
fellow-passengers talked he resolutely kept his attention fixed on what
they were saying. Then when one after the other composed themselves for
a sleep, he sat with his eyes closed, thinking over his school-days. He
had already, while he lay tossing on his bed, thought over the
revelation he had heard from every point of view. He had exhausted the
subject, and would not allow his thoughts to return to it.
He now fought the football match of the Greenites over again in fancy.
It seemed to him that it was an event that had taken place a long time
back, quite in the dim distance, and he was wondering vaguely over this
when he too fell asleep, and did not wake up until the train arrived at
Paddington. It was with a feeling of satisfaction that he stepped out on
to the platform. Now there was something to do. It was too early yet to
see about lodgings. He went to a little coffee-house that was already
open for the use of the workmen, had some breakfast there, and then
walked about for two or three hours until London was astir, leaving his
things at the coffee-house. Then he went to a pawnbroker's and pawned
his watch and chain. Then, having fetched his things from the
coffee-house, he went into the Edgware Road and took an omnibus down to
Victoria and then walked on across Vauxhall Bridge, and set to work to
look for lodgings.
He was not long in finding a bed-room to let, and here he installed
himself. He was convinced Captain Clinton would have a vigilant search
made for him, but he thought that he was now fairly safe, however sharp
the detectives might be in their hunt for him. He felt deeply the sorrow
there would be at home, for he knew that up to now he and Rupert had
been loved equally, and that even the discovery that he had had no right
to the care and kindness he had received would make no great difference
in their feeling towards him. Had the change of children been really the
result of accident, he would not have acted as he had done.
He himself had had no hand in the fraud, but were he to accept anything
now from Captain Clinton he felt that he would be an accessary to it.
Had not his mother, his own mother, proposed that he should take part in
the plot, that he should go on deceiving them, and even that he should
rob Rupert altogether of his inheritance? It was too horrible to think
of. There was nothing for it that he could see but for him to go out
utterly from their lives, and to fight his way alone until he could, at
any rate, show them that he needed nothing and would accept nothing. He
was dimly conscious himself that he was acting unkindly and unfairly to
them, and that after all they had done for him they had a right to have
a say as to his future; but at present his pride was too hurt, he was
too sore and humiliated to listen to the whisper of conscience, and his
sole thought was to hide himself and to make his own way in the world.
Lest his resolution should be shaken he carefully abstained from a
perusal of the papers, lest his eye might fall upon an advertisement
begging him to return. His mind was made up that he would enlist. He
knew that at present he could not do so as a private, but he thought
that he might be accepted as a trumpeter. He thought it probable that
they would guess that such was his intention, and would have given a
description of him at the recruiting offices. It was for this reason
that he determined to live as long as he could upon his money before
trying to enlist, as if some time elapsed he would be less likely to be
recognized as answering the description that might be given by Captain
Clinton than if he made the attempt at once. From Vauxhall he often
crossed to Westminster, and soon struck up an acquaintance with some of
the recruiting sergeants.
"Want to enlist, eh?" one of them said.
"I am thinking of entering as a trumpeter."
"Well, you might do that. There are plenty of younger lads than you are
trumpeters in the cavalry. I will look at the list and see what
regiments have vacancies; but I doubt whether they will take you without
a letter from your father saying that you are enlisting with his
consent."
"I have no father that I know of," Edgar said.
"Well, then, it is likely they will want a certificate from a clergyman
or your schoolmaster as to character; and I expect," the sergeant said
shrewdly, "you would have a difficulty in getting such a paper."
Edgar nodded.
"Well, lad, if you have quite made up your mind about it, my advice
would be, do not try here. In London they are a lot more particular than
they are down in the country, and I should say you are a good deal more
likely to rub through at Aldershot or Canterbury than you would be here.
They are more particular here. You see, they have no great interest in
filling up the ranks of a regiment, while when you go to the regiment
itself, the doctors and officers and all of them like seeing it up to
its full strength, so their interest is to pass a recruit if they can. I
have known scores and hundreds of men rejected here tramp down to
Aldershot, or take the train if they had money enough in their pockets
to pay the fare, and get passed without a shadow of difficulty."
"I would rather not enlist for the next month or two," Edgar said;
"there might be somebody asking after me."
"If you will take my advice, lad, you will go back to your friends.
There are many young fellows run away from home, but most of them are
precious sorry for it afterwards."
"I am not likely to be sorry for it, sergeant, and if I am I shall not
go back. Do you think I could find anyone who would give me lessons on
the trumpet?"
"I should say that there would not be any difficulty about that. There
is nothing you cannot have in London if you have got money to pay for
it. If you were to go up to the Albany Barracks and get hold of the
trumpet-major, he would tell you who would teach you. He would not do it
himself, I daresay, but some of the trumpeters would be glad to give you
an hour a day if you can pay for it. Of course it would save you a lot
of trouble afterwards if you could sound the trumpet before you joined."
Edgar took the advice, and found a trumpeter in the Blues who agreed to
go out with him for an hour every day on to Primrose Hill, and there
teach him to sound the trumpet. He accordingly gave up his room at
Vauxhall, and moved across to the north side of Regent's Park. For six
weeks he worked for an hour a day with his instructor, who, upon his
depositing a pound with him as a guarantee for its return, borrowed a
trumpet for him, and with this Edgar would start of a morning, and
walking seven or eight miles into the country, spend hours in eliciting
the most mournful and startling sounds from the instrument.
At the end of the six weeks his money was nearly gone, although he had
lived most economically, and accordingly, after returning the trumpet to
his instructor, who, although he had been by no means chary of abuse
while the lessons were going on, now admitted that he had got on
first-rate, he went down to Aldershot, where his friend the recruiting
sergeant had told him that they were short of a trumpeter or two in the
1st Hussars.
It was as well that Edgar had allowed the two months to pass before
endeavouring to enlist, for after a month had been vainly spent in the
search for him, Rupert had suggested to his father that although too
young to enlist in the ranks Edgar might have tried to go in as a
trumpeter, and inquiries had been made at all the recruiting depôts
whether a lad answering to his description had so enlisted. The sergeant
had given him a note to a sergeant of his acquaintance in the Hussars.
"I put it pretty strong, young un," his friend had said when he gave him
the note; "mind you stick to what I say."
The sergeant had indeed--incited partly perhaps by a liking for the lad,
partly by a desire to return an equivalent for the sovereign with which
Edgar had presented him--drawn somewhat upon his imagination. "I have
known the young chap for a very long time," he said; "his father and
mother died years ago, and though I am no relation to him he looks upon
me as his guardian as it were. He has learned the trumpet a bit, and
will soon be able to sound all the calls. He will make a smart young
soldier, and will, I expect, take his place in the ranks as soon as he
is old enough. Do the best you can for him, and keep an eye on him."
"I will take you round to the trumpet-major," the sergeant said; "he had
better go with you to the adjutant. You know what Sergeant M'Bride says
in this letter?"
"No, I don't know exactly what he says. He told me he would introduce me
to you, and that you would, he was sure, do your best to put me
through."
"Well, you had better hear what he does say. It is always awkward to
have misunderstandings. He says you have lost your father and mother;
you understand that?"
"That's right," Edgar said quietly.
"And that he has known you for a very long time?"
Edgar nodded.
"It seems to me a very long time," he added.
"And that though he is no actual relation of yours he considers he
stands in the light of your guardian. That is important, you know."
"I will remember that," Edgar said. "There is certainly no one as far as
I know who has a better right than Sergeant M'Bride to advise me, or
give me permission to enlist."
"Well, you stick to that and you are all right. Now, come along."
"I wonder who the young chap is," the sergeant said to himself as they
crossed the barrack yard. "As to what M'Bride said, we know all about
that; I have been on the recruiting staff myself. But I think the young
un was speaking the truth. He has lost his father and mother, he has
known M'Bride for some time, and he has got no one who has any right to
interfere with him. Rum, too. The boy is a gentleman all over, though he
has rigged himself out in those clothes. Well, we are short of
trumpeters, and I don't suppose the adjutant will inquire very closely."
The trumpet-major was quite willing to do his share of the business. He
was glad to fill up one of the vacancies, especially as it seemed that
the new-comer would soon be able to take his place in the ranks; and
after asking a few questions he went across with him to the adjutant.
The latter looked at Edgar critically.
"Smart young fellow," he said to himself. "Got into some scrape at home,
I suppose, and run away. Of course he has some got-up lie ready. Well,
sergeant, what is it?"
"Lad wishes to enlist as a trumpeter, sir. Here is a letter from his
next friend, Sergeant M'Bride of the 18th Hussars. Lad's father and
mother dead. M'Bride stands in place of guardian."
"A likely story," the adjutant muttered to himself. "What is your name,
lad?"
"I enlist as Edward Smith," Edgar said, "age sixteen."
"Parents dead?"
"I lost them when I was a child, sir."
"Who were they?"
"My father was a sergeant in the 30th Foot, sir."
The adjutant was watching him narrowly.
"Either he is telling the truth," he said to himself, "or he is one of
the calmest young liars I have ever come across."
"And there is no one who has any legal right to control you or to object
to your enlisting?"
"No one, sir."
"You cannot play, I suppose?"
"I have been learning the trumpet for some little time, sir, and can
sound a few of the calls."
"Well, I suppose that will do, sergeant. You had better take him across
to the doctor. If he passes him put him up for the night, and bring him
here to-morrow at twelve o'clock to be sworn in."
"Rather a tough case that," he said to himself as the trumpet-major left
with the young recruit. "There is not a doubt the boy is lying, and yet
I could have declared he was speaking the truth. Of course he may be the
son of a non-commissioned officer, and have been brought up and educated
by someone. He looks a gentleman all over, and speaks like one. Well, it
is no business of mine;" and the adjutant gave the matter no further
thought.
The next day Edgar was sworn in. The colonel, hearing from the adjutant
that he had questioned the boy, and that there was no impediment to his
enlisting, passed him without a remark, and Edgar was at once taken to
the regimental tailor and measured for his uniform, and half an hour
later was marched out with four or five of the other trumpeters beyond
the confines of the camp, and was there set to work at the calls. His
work was by no means light. He was at once sent into the riding-school,
and he found it a very different thing to satisfy the riding-master and
his sergeants than it had been to learn to sit a horse at home. However,
his previous practice in that way rendered the work much easier for him
than it would otherwise have been, and he was not very long in passing
out from the squad of recruits. Then he had two or three hours a day of
practice with the trumpet, an hour a day at gymnastics, and in the
afternoon two hours of school. The last item was, however, but child's
play, and as soon as the instructor saw that the lad could without
difficulty take a first-class, he employed him in aiding to teach
others.
The evening was the only time he had to himself; then, if he chose to
take the trouble to dress, he could go out into the town or stroll
through the camp or take a walk. If disinclined for this there was the
cavalry canteen, with a large concert-room attached, where
entertainments were given by music-hall singers brought down from
London. The trumpeters and bandsmen had a barrack-room to themselves.
Edgar, who had a healthy appetite, found the food of a very different
description to that to which he had been accustomed. Although up at six
o'clock in the morning, even in the winter, as it was, there was nothing
to eat until eight. Then there was a mug of a weak fluid called tea, and
an allowance of bread. The dinner, which was at one, consisted of an
amount of meat scarcely sufficient for a growing boy; for although had
the allowance consisted entirely of flesh, it would have been ample, it
was so largely reduced by the amount of bone and fat that the meat was
reduced to a minimum. However, when eked out with potatoes and bread it
sufficed well enough.
Tea at six consisted, like breakfast, of a mug of tea and bread. Edgar
found, however, that the Spartan breakfasts and teas could be
supplemented by additions purchased at the canteen. Here pennyworths of
butter, cheese, bacon, an egg, a herring, and many similar luxuries were
obtainable, and two pence of his pay was invariably spent on breakfast,
a penny sufficing for the addition to his tea.
He found that he soon got on well with his comrades. It was like going
to a fresh school. There was at first a good deal of rough chaff, but as
soon as it was found that he could take this good-temperedly, and that
if pushed beyond a fair limit he was not only ready to fight but was
able to use his fists with much more science than any of the other
trumpeters, he was soon left alone, and indeed became a favourite with
the bandsmen. Two months after he joined he was appointed to a troop. He
found, however, that he did not have to accompany them generally on
parade. The regiment, like all others at home, was very short of its
complement of horses, and only one trumpeter to each squadron was
mounted. Edgar, however, cared little for this. He considered his first
two years' work as merely a probation which had to be gone through
before he could take his place in the ranks as a trooper.
He found his pay sufficient for his needs. Although he had in the old
days been in the habit of drinking beer, he had made a resolution to
abstain from it altogether on joining the regiment. He determined to
gain his stripes at the earliest possible opportunity, and knew well
enough, from what he had heard Captain Clinton say, that drink was the
curse of the army, and that men, although naturally sober and steady,
were sometimes led into it, and thereby lost all chance of ever rising.
He had never smoked, and it was no privation to him to abstain from
tobacco, and he had therefore the whole of his pay, after the usual
deduction for stoppages, at his disposal for food, and had always a
little in his pocket to lend to any comrade who had the bad luck to be
put on heavy stoppages by the loss of some of his necessaries.
In this respect he himself suffered somewhat heavily at first.
Accustomed at school to leave his things carelessly about without the
slightest doubt as to their safety, he was astonished and shocked to
find that a very much laxer code of morality prevailed in the army, and
that any necessaries left about instantly disappeared. The first week
after joining he lost nearly half the articles that had been served out
to him, and was for some months on heavy stoppages of pay to replace
them. The lesson, however, had its effect, and he quickly learnt to keep
a sharp look-out over his things. He was soon dismissed from school,
obtaining his first-class at the examination, which took place two
months after he joined, and this gave him time to attend the
fencing-school, and to give more time to gymnastics.
When once accustomed to his work he found his life an easy and pleasant
one, and had far more time at his disposal than had been the case at
school. He resolutely avoided dwelling on the past, and whenever he
found himself thinking of what had so long been home, he took up a book,
or went out for a walk, or engaged in some occupation that served to
distract his thoughts. He missed the games. Football was occasionally
played, but there was no observance of rules, and after trying it once
or twice he gave it up in disgust. He often joined in a game at fives,
and practised running and jumping, so as to be able to take part in the
regimental sports in the spring.
When Easter had passed and the weather became bright and pleasant he
often took long walks alone, for it was seldom he could find anyone
willing to accompany him. He had learnt drawing at Cheltenham, and as he
found that it would be useful for him when he obtained the rank of a
non-commissioned officer to make sketches and maps to send in with
reports of any country reconnoitred, he accustomed himself to do this on
his walks, jotting down the features of the country, noticing the spots
where roads came in, the width of the bridges across the canals and the
nature of their banks, and taking sketches of what appeared to him
positions that would be occupied to check a pursuing force, or to be
taken up by an advanced one.
At this time, too, he joined a class for signalling, and found it highly
interesting, and before the end of the summer could send a message or
read one with flags or flash-lights. As soon as the summer really began
he took to cricket, and here he speedily attracted the attention of the
officers. He had been the best bowler in the second eleven, and would
have been in the first the next season at Cheltenham. But it was some
little time before his proficiency as a bowler became known, although
it was soon seen that his batting was far above the average.
"That youngster handles his bat well, Moffat," one of the lieutenants
said to the captain, who was the most energetic cricketer among the
officers, and who with one or two of the sergeants generally made up the
team when the regimental eleven played against that of another corps.
"Yes, he plays in good form, doesn't he? Who is the young fellow at the
wicket now, sergeant?"
"He is trumpeter of D troop, sir. He only joined three months ago, but
he could play a bit when he came, and got posted to a troop before two
others who joined four or five months before him."
"The man who is bowling now is not up to much, sergeant. Suppose you
take the ball for an over or two; I should like to see how that young
fellow would stand up to your bowling."
The sergeant, who was one of the regimental bowlers, took the ball.
Edgar, who had been driving the previous bowler in all directions, at
once played carefully, and for an over or two contented himself with
blocking the balls, then one came a little wide and he cut it to leg for
four.
Captain Moffat took off his coat and waistcoat and took the end facing
the sergeant, and began to bowl some slow twisting balls, that were in
strong contrast to the fast delivery of the sergeant. Edgar felt now
that he was being tried, and played very cautiously. There were no runs
to be made off such bowling until the bowler became careless or tired.
At last a ball came rather farther than usual. Edgar stepped out to meet
it, and drove it nearly straight forward and scored four, and it was not
until his score ran up to thirty that he was at last caught.
"You will do, Smith," Captain Moffat said approvingly. "Where did you
learn to play cricket?"
"I learned at school, sir."
"Ah! well, they taught you that well if they taught you nothing else.
You go on practising, and I will give you a chance to play for the
regiment the first time that there is a vacancy."
Two or three matches were played before the chance came. Then Sergeant
Stokes, the bowler, hurt his hand the day before they were going to play
the Rifle Brigade, which was considered the strongest team in camp.
"This is an unlucky business, sergeant," Captain Moffat said to him as
they were talking over next day's play. "I thought if we had luck we
might make a good fight with the Rifles. Bowling is never our strongest
point, and now you are out of it we shall make a very poor show. Are
there any of the men outside the eleven who show any bowling talent?"
The sergeant shook his head.
"Not one of them, sir. I hoped Corporal Holland would have made a
bowler, but he seems to have gone off rather than come on. No; we must
trust to the bowlers we have got. There are four or five of them who are
not bad, though except yourself, sir, there is nothing, so to speak, to
depend on."
"You cannot depend on me, sergeant; there is no certainty about my
bowling. Sometimes I do pretty fairly, at other times I get hit all over
the field. No; my proper place is wicket-keeping. I should never leave
that if we had two or three bowlers we could depend upon. Well, we must
go in for run making.
"I do not think that we can do better than put on that young trumpeter
till you can play again. I have watched him several times at practice,
and he always keeps his wickets up well, and hits freely whenever he
gets a chance."
"Very well, sir. I will warn him that he will be wanted to-morrow. There
can be no harm in trying him for once anyhow."
There was some little surprise among the men who played cricket at
hearing that Trumpeter Smith was to play in the eleven against the
Rifles, and some little grumbling among those who had hoped to be the
next choice. However, all agreed that he was a very likely youngster.
The Hussars won the toss, and went in first. The bowling of the Rifles
was deadly, and the ten wickets fell for fifty-two runs. Edgar was the
last to go in, and did not receive a single ball, his partner succumbing
to the very first ball bowled after Edgar had gone out to the wicket.
Then the Rifles went in, and the loss of the Hussars' fast bowler soon
made itself felt. Two of the best bats of the Rifles were at the wicket,
and in spite of several changes of bowling, seventy-four runs were
scored without a separation being made. Captain Moffat looked round the
field despairingly. He had tried all the men on whom he had any
dependence. His own bowling had been very severely punished, and he had
retired when thirty runs had been scored and was reluctant to take the
ball again. As he was standing undecided after an over in which twelve
runs had been scored, his eye fell on Edgar as he ran lightly across to
take up his place on the opposite side.
"Smith!" Edgar ran up to him. "Do you bowl at all?"
"I have not bowled this season, sir, but I used to bowl pretty fairly."
"Very well, then, take the ball at this end after the next over. I am
going to try Smith at this end," he said to the young lieutenant who was
long-stop.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, there is one thing, he cannot make a
worse mess of it than we are making already."
When the over was concluded, Edgar took the ball. The year that had
elapsed since he had last played, and the gymnastics and hard exercise,
had strengthened his muscles greatly, and as he tossed the ball from
hand to hand while the field took their places he felt that he was more
master of it than he had been before. He had then been a remarkably fast
bowler for his age, and would have been in the eleven had it not
happened that it already possessed three unusually good bowlers.
The first ball he sent up was a comparatively slow one; he wanted to
try his hand. It was dead on the wicket, and was blocked; then he drew
his breath, and sent the next ball in with all his force. A shout rose
from the Hussars as two of the wickets went flying into the air. Another
player came out, but at the fourth ball of the over his middle stump was
levelled.
"What do you think of that, Langley?" Captain Moffat asked the long-stop
as they walked together to the other end. "We have found a treasure. He
bowls about as fast as any one I have ever seen, and every ball is dead
on the wicket."
"He is first-class," the lieutenant, who was an old Etonian, said. "I
wonder where he learnt to play cricket?"
The wickets fell fast, and the innings concluded for 98, Edgar taking
seven wickets for twelve runs. Captain Moffat put him in third in the
second innings, and he scored twenty-four before he was caught out, the
total score of the innings amounting to 126. The Rifles had therefore
eighty-one runs to get to win. They only succeeded in making
seventy-six, eight of them being either bowled out by Edgar or caught
off his bowling. After this he took his place regularly in the Hussar
team, and it was generally acknowledged that it was owing to his bowling
that the regiment that season stood at the head of the Aldershot teams.