SOLDIERS OF THE TRUE BLUE.
The schoolroom was very daintily arranged; there were flowers on the
mantelpiece and on a little table, near which an arm-chair had been
placed for Uncle Peter. On the table were some sheets of foolscap
paper, a bottle of ink, pen, blotting-paper, &c. Just as the children
entered, the door was opened and Uncle Peter himself came in. He
generally wore a smiling face, but now he looked grave and determined.
He walked across the room with, as Nan expressed it, his most military
step. He stopped when he came opposite the children, and bowed gravely
to them, and then sat down in the chair.
“It is too exciting for anything!” thought Kitty. “How is he going to
begin? I am sure he has made all his plans. I can judge that by his
face; it is the sort of face which makes me thrill and want to do
anything in the world for him.”
Miss Roy had taken her place with the children. She looked grave and
earnest, too, and Augusta for a wild moment wished she was out of it.
Then the Captain raised his eyes. He had been arranging the paper
before him, and trying the pen to see if it would write smoothly. Now
he began to address the little group in front of him.
“I have been thinking over our scheme,” he said in his most pleasant
voice; “and if you are all determined, I want you to take, not an oath
to me—nothing of that sort—but to take a promise, by which you will
be enrolled. The regiment in which you will be members we will call
the Royal True Blue. I am its captain, general, or what you will; and,
as far as possible, the rules which will guide your conduct will be
much the same rules as a real regiment which serve our King would
have. Loyalty will be its motto. There are three ways in which the
soldiers can serve in the Royal True Blue. They can serve by keen
attention to intellectual matters, by keen attention to physical
matters, and by keen attention to morals.”
Miss Roy nodded her head as each of these remarks fell from the
Captain’s lips.
“I quite agree with you,” she said; and then she coloured slightly.
The Captain looked at her and gave a smile.
“There will be,” he said, “different grades, of course; month by month
the soldiers will rise to higher and higher responsibilities. There
will be an orderly-book, in which Miss Roy, in my absence, must write
down the events of every day truthfully, exactly as they occur to her.
Neglect of the different heads under which the soldiers serve will
merit punishment; careful attention to these details will merit
rewards. I shall visit the soldiers’ camp at least every month, have a
consultation with Miss Roy, who will be my sergeant, and measure out
my rewards and punishments accordingly. I should like this scheme to
continue until the end of the summer holidays, when to the victorious
soldier I will award, if she deserves it, something similar to the
Victoria Cross. It will be a cross made of silver, tied with blue
ribbon, and will be as far as possible an imitation of the cross which
her late beloved Majesty gave to her most distinguished soldiers.
Perhaps you all understand what alone wins a Victoria Cross? It is
given ‘for valour’—for valour, as a rule, in the field of battle.
Now, as you are all soldiers you must have a field of battle. Your
battlefield is in this house; wherever you are together, whether you
are in the country or in town; in your school; in your own rooms, when
you lie down and when you rise up: at all times you soldiers of the
Royal True Blue will be in the battlefield, and doubtless a time for
valour will arrive—when one of you will endanger herself for the sake
of another. It is possible that none of these soldiers will win the
Royal Cross, but I mean to hold it out as an incentive—the very best
I can give. And now, children, I have lectured enough; will you each
in turn come forward and make the necessary promise?”
“Oh, this is dreadful!” said Augusta; she squeezed Nan’s hand in her
excitement. “I—I do not think I can.”
“But I can,” said Nan. “I can; I mean to.”
“What is it, Augusta—are you frightened?” said the Captain. “Oh,
come! you promised to join; do not draw back now. You do not know what
a world of good it will do you. This scheme means bracing; it means a
strong effort to do the right. Come! if you live in this house you
will have a dull time if you are not a soldier.”
“All right,” said Augusta; “but I will not be the first to take the
promise.”
“Then you shall be the first, Kitty,” said the Captain; “that is only
right, for it is your scheme.”
Kitty rose from her chair and came forward. Captain Richmond had some
small pieces of blue ribbon fastened with silver mottoes. He held one
of these up, and Kitty approached. He took her hand, looked solemnly
into her eyes, and said:
“Are you willing to serve in the Royal True Blue as a soldier of the
King of Heaven? Are you willing to obey the rules of the regiment, to
be loyal and true, to shun what is deceitful and wrong? Are you
willing?”
“Yes,” said Kitty.
Then the Captain bent forward and kissed her.
“This is our seal of consecration,” he said; “and here is your motto.
Wear it openly when you like, or when you do not care to show it to
the world keep it safely hidden, but never lose it. On the day it is
taken from you you are disgraced; you lose this ribbon as a soldier
loses his sword—only by public disgrace.”
Kitty went back to her seat trembling and with tears in her eyes. The
same promise was exacted from the others, and then Captain Richmond
looked at the four.
“I am very proud of my battalion,” he said, “and I think you will all
do well, soldiers of the Royal True Blue. Now, I want to give you a
few directions. There are three distinct paths in which the soldiers
must walk. First, there is the path of intellect. Now, that means
great attention to your lessons at school; it means diligent reading.
I do not mean that kind of slippery reading which goes on when one is
thinking of a hundred things at the same time: I do not mean the
reading of silly novels. I mean the reading of good books,
stimulating, with nice thoughts in them. There is nothing to my mind
like the life of a soldier, and there is nothing more splendid than to
read accounts of what brave soldiers have done; and as you five are
now soldiers, you might, during the months that you servo under me,
read as many books about soldiers as possible. I can furnish you with
a list. I believe such reading will do you a lot of good. This, of
course, is not a command of mine; it is a suggestion which you may
like to carry out. In the orderly-book there will be careful reports of
your transgressions in intellectual respects; the number of bad marks
at school, the getting down to the bottom of your form, lateness also
in attending your different classes, will all mean marks against you.
On the other hand, diligence in learning, briskness and anxiety to
excel, will mean good marks. I will explain the marks to my sergeant,
Miss Roy, presently. So much for intellect. Now we come to the
physical part of the scheme. I believe very strongly in physical
exercise. I do not mean the sort of exercise which tires one to
death—over-cycling, for instance, or playing lawn-tennis too
long—but I do mean steady exercise every day; and part of your duties
will be your drill. I will speak to Mrs. Richmond, and she will get a
real army sergeant to come here daily to drill you. You will feel as
you are marching, and turning from right to left, and going through
the different manœuvres that you are real soldiers, and it will do
you a world of good. Other exercise ought also to be taken, and under
this head I would advocate early rising. I would also advocate order
and neatness. Each day ought to be planned out, and there ought to be
very little time for idling, for a real soldier in the enemy’s country
has to be on the alert morning, noon, and night. He ought never to be
away from his post; he ought to watch for the approach of the enemy at
every corner, at every unexpected point. We now come to the third
head, which surely is the most important of all, for in my regiment,
the Royal True Blue, I want to have soldiers worthy of the name: a
coward would be detestable to me; a liar could not be borne. I want my
soldiers to be straight, to be upright, to be honourable; I want them
to walk in the middle of the road.”
“Oh! oh!” suddenly came from Nan’s lips.
The Captain gave her a long, penetrating glance. She coloured, and
dropped her head.
“It can be done,” he said, “but it is not specially easy; and I hope
it will be done. And now, surely we have had enough morality and
enough solemn talk even for the soldiers of the True Blue. I propose
an entertainment this evening. I have consulted with your mother, and
she gives me leave to take you all to the theatre—yes, every single
one of you—to see a fine play about a soldier and how he acted under
difficulties.”
The wild delight of the children at this last announcement can be
better understood than explained. Captain Richmond knew what he was
about; he knew that the eager young minds had gone through sufficient
strain. The girls rushed off to their rooms, and the Captain and Miss
Roy were alone.
“It is very good of you to join this,” he said, turning to the
governess.
“I like it,” she replied. “Whether the children can stand this
somewhat severe discipline remains to be proved.”
“I believe they can; they have all character,” replied the Captain. “I
shall be deeply interested to know how this experiment progresses. I
will give you your orderly-book to-morrow, and explain to you how the
marks are to be put down. There is only one thing, however, Miss
Roy—there must be no favouritism; you must be as strict and as severe
with your favourite, Kitty, as you are with Augusta, whom I do not
think you much care about.”
“I do not,” replied Miss Roy. “I do not understand her. She is popular
with most people; Mrs. Richmond is very much attached to her, and Kitty
and Nora are fond of her.”
“But Nan is not,” said the Captain.
“No,” replied Miss Roy; “Nan is afraid of her.”
“I have seen that from the first,” replied Captain Richmond; “and, to
tell you the truth, in planning my rules I thought a good deal both of
Nancy and Augusta. This thing will try them both pretty stoutly; I
have no doubt that in the end all will be well. And now, one more word
in your ear: I do not think I ever met a dearer little girl than Nancy
Esterleigh.”
“She is a sweet child,” replied Miss Roy; “and she was very, very
happy with us before Augusta came.”
The children, now all dressed for their evening’s entertainment, came
into the room. Captain Richmond had ordered a carriage; it was now at
the door, and the happy party, including Miss Roy, started off for
their evening’s pleasure.
In the play a soldier received the Victoria Cross. He was one who had
been snubbed and looked down upon, and always shoved into the cold: he
had been overlooked when others were promoted; when others were
ordered to the front, he was expected to stay behind in England; the
girl he loved was given to a man over his head. Everything seemed to
be against him, but never once through all these trying circumstances
did he lose his brightness, his freshness, his courage. He had a gay
and cheerful word for each comrade and for each friend, and in the end
his chance came: he managed to get to the front—how, it does not
matter; he rescued another at the risk of his own life—how, does not
matter either; the thing that matters is that he received that
decoration of all others the most thrilling, the most ennobling, the
Cross of the Order of Victoria.
Nan’s little face turned white with excitement as she watched the
progress of the play; and at last, when the happy soldier was
decorated for valour in the field, she burst into tears.
Captain Richmond took her hand, and bent and whispered to her:
“Odds against, but he won,” was his remark. “Cheer up, Nancy; you too
can win.”
“Even if the odds are against me?” she whispered back.
“Ah! of course. Look well to the front, soldier of the True Blue.”