OFF TO THE WARS.
Next morning there was much stir and commotion in the South Barracks,
where "lay" the Royal Picts--to use a soldier's phrase. The few words
let drop by General Wilders, and overheard by Sergeant McKay, had been
verified. "The route had come," and the regiment was under orders to
join the expeditionary army in the East.
A splendid body, standing eight hundred strong on parade: strong,
stalwart fellows, all of them, bronzed and bearded, admirably
appointed, perfectly drilled--one of many such magnificent battalions,
the flower of the British army, worthily maintaining the reputation of
the finest infantry in the world.
Alas! that long years of peace should have rusted administrative
machinery! That so many of these and other brave men should be
sacrificed before the year was out for want of food, fuel, and
clothing--the commonest supplies.
There seemed little need to improve a military machine so perfect at
all its points. But the fastidious eye of Colonel Blythe, who
commanded the Royal Picts, saw many blemishes in his regiment, and he
was determined to make the most of the time still intervening before
embarkation. Parades were perpetual; for the inspection of arms and
accoutrements, for developing manual dexterity, and efficiency in
drill. Still he was not satisfied.
"We must have a new sergeant-major," said the old martinet to his
adjutant in the orderly-room.
The post was vacant for the moment through the promotion of its late
holder to be quartermaster.
"Yes, sir; the sooner the better. The difficulty is to choose."
"I have been thinking it over, Smallfield, and have decided to promote
Hyde. Send for him."
Colour-sergeant Hyde, erect, self-possessed--a pattern soldier in
appearance and propriety--presently marched in and stood respectfully
at "attention" before his superior.
"Sergeant Hyde!" said the colonel, abruptly, "I am going to make you a
sergeant-major."
"Thank you, sir," said Hyde, saluting; "I had rather not take it."
"Heavens above!" cried the colonel, fiercely. He was of the old
school, and used expletives freely. "You must be an idiot!"
"I am sensible, sir, of the honour you would do me, but--"
"Nonsense, man! I insist. I must have you."
"No, sir," said Hyde, firmly, "I must decline the honour."
"Was there ever such an extraordinary fellow? Why, man alive! it will
reinstate you--"
"I must beg, sir," said Hyde, hastily interrupting, and looking with
intention towards the adjutant.
"Yes, yes! I understand," said the colonel. "Leave us, Mr. Smallfield;
I wish to speak to Sergeant Hyde alone."
"You have my secret, Colonel Blythe," said Hyde, when the adjutant had
left the room, "but I have your promise."
"I was near forgetting it, I confess; but I was so upset, so put out,
at your cursed obstinacy. Why will you persist in keeping in the
background? Accept this promotion, and you shall have a commission
before the year is out."
"I do not want a commission; I am perfectly happy as I am."
"Was there ever such a pig-headed fellow? Come, Hyde, be persuaded."
The colonel got up from his seat and walked round to where the
sergeant stood, still erect and motionless. "Come, Rupert, old
comrade, old friend," and he put his hand affectionately on the
sergeant's shoulder.
The muscles of the sergeant's face worked visibly.
"It's no use, Blythe; I am dead to the world. I have no desire to
rise."
"But it's so aggravating; it puts me in such a hole," said the
colonel, striding up and down the office. "You're just the man we
want--superior in every way. You would hold your own so well with the
other non-commissioned officers. I do wish--Where am I to find
another?"
"I can tell you, if you will listen to my advice."
"Yes? Speak out."
"Young McKay; he would make an excellent sergeant-major."
"I know him--a smart, sensible, intelligent young fellow. But has he
ballast--education?"
"He is better born than you or me, colonel. A lad of excellent parts
and first-rate education. Bring him on, and he will do you and the
regiment credit yet."
The colonel sat down again at his desk, and seemed lost in thought.
"I must ask Smallfield. Call in the adjutant, will you?" he added, in
a voice that implied their conventional relations as superior officer
and sergeant were resumed.
Half an hour later McKay was standing in Hyde's place, receiving the
same offer, but accepting, although diffidently.
"I am not fit for the post, sir," he protested.
"That's my affair. I have selected you for reasons of my own, and the
responsibility is mine."
"I will try my best, sir; that is all I can say."
"It's quite enough. Do your best, and you will satisfy me."
"I can't think why he chose me," confided Stanislas to his friend
Hyde, later on, in the sergeants' mess.
"Can't you?" replied his friend, drily. "It's a case of hidden merit
receiving its right reward."
"I have never thought that the colonel noticed me, or distinguished me
from any of the other sergeants," said Stanislas.
"Probably your good qualities were pointed out to him," replied Hyde,
still in the same tone. "Or your fine friends and relations have used
their influence."
"It is little likely; and, as I tell you, I don't understand it in the
least."
"Leave it so. No doubt you will find out some day. In the meantime do
justice to your recommendation, whoever gave it. You have got your
foot on the ladder now, but no one can help you to climb; that must
depend upon your own exertions."
"Yes, but you can help me, Hyde, with your advice, encouragement,
support. I am very young to be put up so high, and over men of
standing and experience like yourself."
"You will have no more loyal subordinate than me, Sergeant-major
McKay. Come to me whenever you are in trouble or doubt. I will do all
I can, you may depend. I like you, boy, and that's enough said."
The old sergeant seized McKay's hand, shook it warmly, and then
abruptly quitted the room.
Stanislas was eager to tell this pleasing news of his promotion to
Mariquita; but she was the last person to hear it, notwithstanding.
McKay entered at once upon his new duties, and they kept him close
from morning till night. A good sergeant-major allows himself no
leisure. He is the first on parade, the last to leave it. He is
perpetually on the move; now inspecting guards and pickets, now
superintending drills, while all day long he has his eye upon the
conduct of the non-commissioned officers, and the demeanour and dress
of the private men.
There was no time to hang about the tobacconist's shop in Bombardier
Lane, waiting furtively for a chance of seeing Mariquita alone. They
kept their eye upon her, too; and when at last he tore himself away
from his new and absorbing duties he paid two or three visits to the
place before he could speak to her.
Mariquita received him coldly--distantly.
They were standing, as usual, on each side of the low fence at the end
of the garden.
"What's wrong, little star? How have I offended you?"
"I wonder that you trouble to come here at all, Don Stanislas. It's
more than a week since I you."
"I have been so busy. My new duties: they have made me, you know--"
"Throw that bone to some other dog," interrupted Mariquita, abruptly.
"I am to be no longer deceived by your pretended duties. I know the
truth: you prefer some other girl."
"Mariquita!" protested McKay.
"I have heard all. Do not try to deny it. She is tall and fair; one of
your compatriots. You were seen together."
"Where, pray? Who has told you this nonsense?"
"At Waterport. Benito saw you."
McKay laughed merrily.
"I see it all. Why, you foolish, jealous Mariquita, that was my
general's wife--a great lady. I was attending and following her about
like a lackey. I would not dare to lift my eyes to her even if I
wished, which is certainly not the case."
Mariquita was beginning to relent. Her big eyes filled with tear, and
she said in a broken voice, as though this quarrel with her lover had
pained her greatly--
"Oh, oily-tongued! if only I could believe you!"
"Why, of course it's true. Surely you would not let that villain
Benito make mischief between us? But, there; time is too precious to
waste in silly squabbles. I can't stay long; I can't tell when I shall
come again."
"Is your love beginning to cool, Stanislas? If so, we had better part
before--"
"Listen, dearest," interrupted McKay; "I have good news for you," and
he told her of his unexpected promotion, and of the excellent
prospects it held forth.
"I am nearly certain to win a commission before very long. Now that we
are going to the war--"
"The war!" Mariquita's face turned ghastly white; she put her hand
upon her heart, and was on the point of falling to the ground when
McKay vaulted lightly over the fence and saved her by putting his arm
round her waist.
"Idiot that I was to blurt it out like that, after thinking all the
week how best to break the news! Mariquita! Mariquita! speak to me, I
implore you!"
But the poor child was too much overcome to reply, and he led her,
dazed and half-fainting, to a little seat near the house, where, with
soft caresses and endearing words, he sought to restore her to
herself.
"The war!" she said, at length. "It has come, then, the terrible news
that I have so dreaded. We are to part, and I shall never, never see
you again."
"What nonsense, Mariquita! Be brave! Remember you are to be a
soldier's wife. Be brave, I say."
"They will kill you! Oh! if they only dared, I would be revenged!"
"Bravo, my pet! that is the proper spirit. You would fight the
Russians, wouldn't you?"
"I would do anything, Stanislas, to help you, to shield you from harm. Why
can't I go with you? Who knows! I might save you. I, a weak, helpless girl,
would be strong if you were in danger. I am ready, Stanislas, to sacrifice
my life for yours."
Greatly touched by the deep devotion displayed by these sweet words,
McKay bent his head and kissed her on the lips.
But at this moment the tender scene was abruptly ended by the shrill,
strident tones of La Zandunga's voice.
"So I have caught you, shameless girl, philandering again with this
rascally red-coat. May he die in a dog-kennel! Here, in my very house!
But, I promise you, it is for the last time. _Hola!_ Benito! Pedro!
help!" and, screaming wildly, the old crone tore Mariquita from
McKay's side and dragged her into the house.
The young sergeant, eager to protect his love from ill-usage, would
have followed, but he was confronted by Benito, who now stood in the
doorway, black and menacing, with a great two-edged Albacete knife in
his hand.
"Stand back, miscreant, hated Englishman, or I will stab you to the
heart."
Nothing daunted by the threat, McKay advanced boldly on Benito; with
one hand he caught his would-be assailant by the throat; with the
other the wrist that was lifted to strike. A few seconds more, and
Benito had measured his length on the ground, while his murderous
weapon had passed into the possession of McKay.
Having thus disposed of one opponent, McKay met a second, in the
person of Tio Pedro, who, slower in his movements, had also come out
in answer to his wife's appeal.
"Who are you that dares to intrude here?" asked Pedro, roughly. "I
will complain to the town major, and have you punished for this."
"Look to yourself, rather!" replied McKay, hotly. "I stand too high to
fear your threats. But you, thief and smuggler, I will bring the
police upon you and your accomplice, who has just tried to murder me
with his knife."
Tio Pedro turned ghastly pale at the sergeant-major's words. He had
evidently no wish for a domiciliary visit, and would have been glad to
be well rid of McKay.
"Let him be! Let him be!" he said, attempting to pacify Benito, who,
smarting from his recent overthrow, seemed ready to renew the
struggle. "Let him be! It is all a mistake. The gentleman has
explained his business here, and nothing more need be said."
"Nothing more!" hissed Benito, between his teeth. "Not when he has
insulted me--struck me! Nothing more! We shall have to settle accounts
together, he and I. Look to yourself Señor Englishman. There is no
bond that does not some day run out; no debt that is never paid."
McKay disdained to notice these threats, and, after waiting a little
longer in the hope of again seeing Mariquita, he left the house.
It was his misfortune, however, not to get speech with her again
before his departure. The few short days intervening before
embarkation were full of anxiety for him, and incessant, almost
wearisome, activity. He had made himself one moment of leisure, and
visited Bombardier Lane, but without result. Mariquita was invisible,
and McKay was compelled to abandon all hope of bidding his dear one
good-bye.
But he was not denied one last look at the girl of his heart. As the
regiment, headed by all the bands of the garrison, marched gaily down
to the New Mole, where the transport-ship awaited it, an excited
throng of spectators lined the way. Colonel Blythe headed his
regiment, of course, and close behind him, according to regulation,
marched the young sergeant-major, in brave apparel, holding his head
high, proudly conscious of his honourable position. The colonel and
the sergeant-major were the first men down the New Mole stairs; and as
they passed McKay heard his name uttered with a half-scream.
He looked round hastily, and there saw Mariquita, with white, scared
face and streaming eyes.
What could he do? It was his duty to march on unconscious, insensible
to emotion. But this was more than mortal man could do. He paused,
lingering irresolutely, when the colonel noticed his agitation, and
quickly guessed the exact state of the case.
"'The girl I left behind me,' eh, sergeant-major? Well, fall out for a
minute or two, if you like"--and, with this kindly and considerate
permission, McKay took Mariquita aside to make his last _adieux_.
"_Adios! vida mia_" [good-bye, my life], he was saying, when the poor
girl almost fainted in his arms.
He looked round, greatly perplexed, and happily his eye fell upon
Sergeant Hyde.
"Here, Hyde," he said, "take charge of this dear girl."
"What! sergeant-major, have you been caught in the toils of one of
these bright-eyed damsels? It is well we have got the route. They are
dangerous cattle, these women; and, if you let them, will hang like a
mill-stone round a soldier's neck."
"Pshaw! man, don't moralise. This girl is my heart's choice. Please
Heaven I may return to console her for present sorrow. But I can't
wait. Help me: I can trust you. See Mariquita safely back to her home,
and then join us on board."
"I shall be taken up as a deserter."
"Nonsense! I will see to that with the adjutant. We do not sail for
two hours at least; you will have plenty of time."
Sergeant Hyde, although unwillingly, accepted the trust, and thus met
Mariquita for the first time.