"I hope you are a true prophet," said Kavanagh, cheerily. "But now, how about this silver watch?"

He chose a good strong one, with a chain to match, and handed over the gold, Mr Balance giving him twenty-five pounds besides.

"I say! This is too much!" cried Kavanagh. "It only cost forty pounds when new."

"And is worth thirty-five now," said the watchmaker. "I shall make a good profit out of the bargain, I a.s.sure you."

Kavanagh pocketed his new watch, held out his hand, which the old man grasped, across the counter, and walked away murmuring, "Good old chap!"

It was still early in the afternoon, so to complete all his business at once he walked back to the chambers, took his sword, which he had not parted with, packed it up in brown paper, and directed it to Tom Strachan. Then he wrote this letter:--

"Dear Tom,--When I joined the Militia I hoped that it was a stepping- stone to the Line, so I would not have a tailor's sword, but indulged in the expensive luxury of a good one. Accept it, old fellow, with all sorts of congratulations and good wishes. 'The property of a gentleman, having no further use for it,' eh? I must poke my way to fame with a bayonet, if I am to get there, instead of carving it with a sword. Thank your people for their kindness to me.--Yours, etcetera."

"By-the-by," he soliloquised, when he had stuck and directed this epistle, "I have not sent in the resignation of my commission yet." And he took half a sheet of foolscap and wrote out the formal notice to the Adjutant of the 4th Blankshire at once. Then he said, "There is nothing else, I think, but to post the letters and send the sword off by rail; and then go in for new experiences."

It was a good bit of a new experience for him to carry a parcel through the streets of London, and book it himself, but in his present costume he did not mind doing it one bit. Indeed, he felt quite light-hearted; knowing the worst was much better than the anxiety of the past few weeks. And then there was another matter. Having been used to a good allowance, and possessing naturally somewhat fastidious tastes, he had not been very economical, though, as he hated the idea of debt, and would rather have blacked shoes for a livelihood than have imposed on his generous G.o.dfather and guardian, he had not fallen into actually extravagant habits.

When Mr Burke died, and the will was not forthcoming, and he was thus placed face to face with actual impending poverty, Kavanagh had the sense, the manliness, and the honesty, to do violence to his tastes and feelings, by guarding against all unnecessary expenditure. But to a free-handed and generous disposition this is a very hard task; and when the end came, and he cast up his accounts, he found to his dismay that he owed more than the balance of his allowance, the last sum paid to him, would cover.

It was not much, and would not have been pressed for, but Kavanagh, though rather weak about his personal appearance, had a pound of manly pride to an ounce of girlish vanity, and would sooner have gone in rags than owed money to a tailor. The money he had obtained that afternoon would entirely clear him from every liability, and leave him with a few pounds in his pocket; and this relief made him quite light-hearted, in spite of the final tumble of his house of cards.

The question was--where to dine. He knew lots of restaurants and chop- houses, but even in the most humble of the latter, where the floor was saw-dusted, his present costume would excite remark. He had from boyhood been particular about his dress, and his collars and waistcoats had incited some of his friends to call him a dandy, so his scruples may have been exaggerated.

At last he saw several better-cla.s.s artisans go into an eating-house in Oxford Street, and following them he did very well. The table-cloth was stained with brown circles from the porter pots, and was otherwise dirty; the forks were pewter, and there were no napkins; but the meat was as good as you would get anywhere, so were the vegetables, the beer also; and the cost was about half that of the most homely chop-houses he had hitherto patronised.

His dinner done, it was about the time when the theatres were opening, so he went to the gallery door of one of the princ.i.p.al of them, and after waiting a little while, amongst the good-humoured crowd, he surged upstairs with them--many stairs they were, and steep--and got a good place close to the chandelier. The warmth and light from it were rather too obtrusive, but did not prevent his taking an interest in the performance, which was shared by his neighbours in the most intense and hearty fashion. The women sobbed at the pathetic parts, while the men set their teeth and turned white when the villain temporarily got the best of it, and both s.e.xes roared with delight over the comic scenes.

Likewise, all sucked oranges; therefore Kavanagh purchased and sucked an orange, and ingratiated himself with his female neighbours by politely offering them that fruit!

And between the acts, when the young men in the stalls, in their white ties, and white kid gloves, and nicely parted hair, stood up and languidly surveyed the house through their opera-gla.s.ses, Kavanagh had a sardonic amus.e.m.e.nt in the recollection as he thought that a fortnight before he had sat in that fourth stall in the third row, in evening dress, with a gardenia in his b.u.t.ton-hole, and had similarly inspected the inferior beings around him. Froggy Barton occupied that seat to- night. Kavanagh took a squeeze at his orange, and thought he could hit Froggy with the skin. But of course he refrained from trying. Only he did look so sleek! "What much wiser people we are than the swells!"

Kavanagh thought. "We enjoy ourselves without being ashamed of it, and we endure crowding and semi-suffocation without getting ill-tempered!"

But he soon had enough of it, in spite of his philosophy, and after the second fall of the curtain was glad to get into the fresh air.

When he reached the Temple he found Royce expecting him, and directly he entered he got up and shook him by the hand.

"I did not see the list till six," he said, "and then I came to chambers in hopes of finding you, and getting you to come out somewhere. You have not been moping, I hope."

"Moping! Not a bit of it," replied Kavanagh. "I am not going to cry 'I take a licking!' because Fortune has caught me a couple of facers without a return. I have been to the theatre, and enjoyed myself vastly, I a.s.sure you."

"To the theatre! You; in that dress!" exclaimed Royce.

"Oh, I went to the gallery. I have accepted the situation."

"Come and sit down and light a pipe," said Royce. "I won't bore you with unavailing regrets. Tell me what you are going to do, and if I can help you at all."

"Thank you; I have thought it probable I should fail, and have debated with myself deliberately what course is best to adopt. I have come to a conclusion, and no one can help me. My first thought was that if I failed to be an officer I would be a private, and the more I have thought it over the more convinced I have become that that would suit me better than anything else. I have never learned a trade, so I could not be a skilled artisan, and a soldier's life would suit me better than that of an ordinary day labourer, whose work requires no head-piece. As for spending my days in an office, a warehouse, or a shop, it would be like going to prison for me. In short, I am going to enlist, and have also determined on the branch of the service which is to reap the benefit."

"Cavalry, I suppose; Lancers, Dragoons, or Hussars?"

"Neither. I fixed on that arm at first; the uniform attracted me; the sword is a n.o.ble weapon; and to ride is pleasanter than to walk. But these advantages are more than counterbalanced by the lot of accoutrements a horse soldier has to clean, and the fact that at the end of a day's march he has to attend to his horse before he can look after himself."

"A great many gentlemen's sons go into the Artillery."

"I have settled upon the Infantry, and intend to-morrow morning to offer my invaluable services to the Foot Guards. You look surprised."

"Well, yes," said Royce. "To tell the truth I fancied that you would be anxious to get to India; there is more chance, you know, of promotion that way."

"I have thought out that. But, to tell the truth, unless there were a prospect of active service I should prefer to remain in England, for this sole reason. I do not give up all hope of that will turning up, and if it should, I want to be in the way of getting early information, and looking after my interests."

Royce sat in silent thought for a little while, and then said--

"I see what you mean, and upon my word I do not know how to advise you better."

And after a little more chat they went to bed.

Next morning, when Kavanagh was dressed, he turned to his bath with a sad conviction that his morning ablutions must in future be of a much less satisfactory nature, and he sighed, for this went more home to him than almost anything. "Ta, ta, tub!" he said, as he closed the door.

He found Royce already in the sitting-room making the tea, and they breakfasted together.

When the meal was over, Kavanagh rose and said--

"By-the-by, there is my gun; it is a full-choke, and a remarkably good killer if one only holds it straight. It was a present, and I did not like to sell it. Will you have it as a memorial from a fellow to whom you have been uncommonly kind? Good-bye, and thank you for all."

"Good-bye," said Royce, in a voice which he had a difficulty to keep steady. "I hope luck will turn for you soon; but I feel sure it will.

And if you have forgotten anything, or I can do anything for you, mind you come to me, or write if I am out of town. Good-bye again."

Kavanagh wrung his old captain's hand and hurried down-stairs, leaving him with a ball in his throat and moisture very near his eyes.

"Thank goodness that is over!" he murmured, as he left the Temple. "Now for the barracks."

Instead of offering himself to one of the outside recruiters, he went straight to the Orderly Room, and told a sergeant waiting outside that he wished to join. So he was brought before the Adjutant almost at once. He stood six feet in his stockings, and measured forty-one inches round the chest, so there was no difficulty about his acceptance. They jumped at him like a trout at a May fly.

He gave his real name, Reginald Kavanagh. "If I were ashamed of what I am doing, I would not do it," he reasoned. And besides, he wished to be traced with the greatest possible ease should the missing will be found.

Of course the life at first was extremely hard, and the companionship of some of his comrades very distasteful to him, but he took care not to show it. And others were as good fellows as ever stepped, and with them he made friends.

The fact of his knowing his drill thoroughly made matters easier for him, and he soon learned how to clean his arms and accoutrements, make his bed, and so forth. And by dint of unhesitating obedience to orders, even when foolish, and never answering or arguing with superiors, he got a good name without subserviency.

CHAPTER NINE.

THE ARMY OF HICKS PASHA.

It may have seemed to you that Harry Forsyth took the death of the Egyptian soldier rather callously, seeing that he was not used to such scenes, and that he ought to have been a little more impressed. But you see he had resided in Egypt, and been some way up the Nile before; and in hot countries people not only live a good deal, but die a good deal, in the open air, so that he had seen human bodies; and more than once, in the course of his journeys, he had come upon one such lying much as you will see that of a dog on the mud of a tidal river at home at low water.

It is astonishing how soon we grow hardened to such spectacles. And then, unless he has become exceptionally cosmopolitan, a Briton finds it very difficult to reckon an African, or even an Asiatic, as _quite_ a human being. Of course he knows that he is so, just as much as himself.

He knows, and perhaps vehemently a.s.serts, if necessary, that even the lowest type of negro is a man and a brother, and not a connecting link between man and monkey. But he cannot _manage_ to feel that he is of the same value as a European, or to look upon his corpse with a similar awe.