The Queen's Scarlet - Part 29
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Part 29

Then there were fetes in the neighbourhood, b.a.l.l.s given, and twice over the band was required at a public dinner.

The lessons given to Lieutenant Lacey were continued, and that officer certainly improved; but he did not evince the slightest desire to repeat the serenade, not even alluding to it when d.i.c.k visited his rooms.

There were times, of course, when a fit of low spirits would set d.i.c.k dreaming a little about what might have been, but he soon dismissed thoughts of the past; and in all the months since he had left Mr Draycott's no single sc.r.a.p of news reached his ears, neither was it sought.

"I have no past," he would say to himself, as he forced himself energetically into every duty and every sport encouraged by the colonel.

Before long it was a settled thing that he must be one of the best eleven when cricket was in the way, and when the season came round he played as good a part at football.

The officers always had a friendly nod for him, and on one occasion the colonel spoke to him after a solo, praising him highly.

"But, do you know, Smithson," he said, "I am half-sorry that you are not in the ranks. Music is a delightful thing; but for a young man, like you, a bandsman in a line regiment is only a bandsman, after all. I think you might do better, though I should be sorry for you to leave the band. Think it over, my lad; I should like to see you get on."

d.i.c.k did think it over, for he was aware, by his clothes, that he had altered greatly since that afternoon when the sergeant looked at him and laughed.

"I can't be too short and slight now."

But he hesitated. There had never been any need for him to be disenchanted with regard to imaginative pictures of a soldier's life; but, all the same, he could not help, after his months of experience, shrinking from taking to a life in the ranks, with its many monotonous drills.

Still, he thought it over, and wondered how long it would be before he rose to corporal, and was then promoted to sergeant and colour-sergeant.

Lastly, was there the slightest possibility for a young man like himself to gain a commission? He always came to the same conclusion. He might: but he was far more likely to fail; and he did not know that he wished to be an officer now. In fact, he shuddered at the thoughts which followed.

Meanwhile the time went on, with the feeling always upon him that the colonel might ask him whether he had come to any decision. But that officer never spoke; for the simple reason that the words, uttered after dinner, when he was in a good humour, were entirely forgotten, and as if they had never been uttered.

One day upon parade, and away upon the Common, when the band was drawn up on one side after playing, during a march past, there was a little scene with one of d.i.c.k's friends--the man whose acquaintance he had first made and whose good feeling he still retained.

"Here, sergeant," shouted the colonel; and Brumpton doubled up to him, halted, and stood fast, conscious that officers and men were on the grin. "Look here, Brumpton, this really will not do. Confound you, sir! you're making the regiment a laughing-stock."

"Very sorry, sir--try to do my duty."

"Yes, yes," cried the colonel. "You are a capital sergeant; but look at you this morning!"

Brumpton rolled his eyes about, but stood still.

"I would not do that, man; you can't see behind you. Are you aware that the back seams of your jacket are opening out?"

"No, sir, but they will do it."

"Then why the d.i.c.kens don't you train and get rid of some of that superfluous fat? There, you can't stop on parade. Go and get your jacket mended."

Poor Brumpton's face changed as he turned to go, but before he had gone far the colonel cried:

"Stop! There, go on with your duty, sir.--Poor fellow," he muttered, "I can't be hard upon him. But he is so disgustingly fat; eh, Lacey?"

"Yes, he is fat," said the lieutenant, thoughtfully. "Poor beggar! it would be rough upon him on service if we had to run. I mean retreat, sir!"

"The 205th will never be in such a position, sir," said the colonel stiffly. "Run, indeed! The 205th run!"

"I beg your pardon, sir," said the lieutenant, whose face was now almost as red as his uniform.

"Granted, Mr Lacey; but, for goodness' sake, don't you ever let me hear you say a word again about running."

"Not forward, sir?"

"Oh, yes; that, of course."

The long morning's evolutions were gone through, the band went to the front, and the regiment was marched back to barracks; and that same afternoon, as d.i.c.k sat alone in the reading-room, copying a band-part for Wilkins, there was a panting noise close behind him, and Brumpton's thick, rich voice exclaimed:

"Oh, there you are! I've been looking for you everywhere. How are you, Smithson?"

"Quite well," said d.i.c.k, smiling in the non-commissioned officer's face.

"Don't--don't do that," said Brumpton, sharply.

"Don't do what, Mr Brumpton?"

"Laugh at a man."

"You don't think I was laughing at you?" said d.i.c.k, gravely.

"No, no--of course not. You wouldn't, my lad. But, my word! how you are growing, Smithson! It's the drilling. You have altered since you came."

"Have I?"

"Wonderfully, my lad--wonderfully! Men showed up well this morning," he continued, seating himself.

"Capitally," said d.i.c.k.

"Couldn't hear what the colonel said, could you?"

"Every word."

"But you couldn't see, could you?" said the sergeant, appealingly.

"Oh, yes; two great slits, with the stuffing coming out."

Brumpton groaned.

"I say, why don't you make the tailor take all the padding away?" cried d.i.c.k.

"I did beg and pray of him to, but he wouldn't. He said it would spoil my figure, and I should look fuller and fatter. Oh, dear! I never thought, after working as I have in the regiment, that I should live to be laughed at like this!"

"Oh, don't mind that. I couldn't help laughing, too, Mr Brumpton. It did look rather comic."

"To you, my lad--to you; but it's death to me! I shall be turned out of the regiment on a pension. Me going out on a pension at my time of life! But it must come."

"Don't let it," said d.i.c.k. "You're a young man yet."