"To the bandmaster," cried Jerry, "to have it out with him. My hands won't feel like gloves!"

"Stop where you are!" growled the sergeant. "Never mind Wilkins. You don't want to get in a row. Do you want to strike your officer?"

"Officer!" cried Jerry, excitedly; "officer! I don't call that combination of a thing an officer!"

"You be quiet," said Brumpton. "We've said enough as it is."

"No, sir, we ain't! and, soldier or no soldier, I'm a man, and not going to have things like that spoken about my comrade--and such a comrade as him!"

"Be quiet, I tell you!" said Brumpton; and the man's tone and manner made Jerry forget that he was so pincushion-like in appearance. "I don't want you to get in trouble, too!"

"And I don't want to get in trouble," said Jerry; "but I don't call it manly for a lot of fellows who knew d.i.c.k Smithson to be a reg'lar gent to the backbone to stand there and hear that mean little wax-match of a man, without saying a word or sticking up for him!"

"Who said n.o.body stuck up for him?" said Brumpton.

"You never said anyone did!"

"Well, they did!" said Brumpton.

"Oh, that's better! What did they say?"

"As soon as he spoke like that, a lot of the men began to hiss."

"Hiss!" cried Jerry, contemptuously; "why, a goose on Clapham Common could do that!"

"And then," continued Brumpton, "Wilkins began to blink over his music-stand, looking as red in the face as his uniform. 'Who was that?'

he says--'who was it that dared to make that noise?'"

"And then no one spoke," sneered Jerry. "Hissed! I'd ha' punched his head. Bandmaster, indeed!--I'd ha' been the bandmaster's master that time!"

"Wrong, Jerry Brigley!" cried Brumpton. "Someone did speak, others did not; but I'll answer for everyone, I spoke out."

"Bravo!" cried Jerry. "What did you say, sergeant?"

"I said it was a blackguardly, cowardly thing to say behind a man's back."

"Yes; and what then?" cried Jerry, breathlessly.

"Then? Oh, he turned upon me and let me have it, while I took no notice, feeling as I did that I ought to have known better; and the quieter I was the more he went on giving it me, and threatening and getting more and more savage, till he roused me at last."

"How? What did he say?"

"Well, there is one thing that makes me wild, and he did it. I stood there holding the bombardon, letting him go on, till all at once he told me that I was no more good in my company and I had come sneaking to the band to try and get taken on there, but that I was of no use at all, and he'd soon put a stop to my practising with the men; and that I was--"

Brumpton stopped, and wiped his face again.

"Well, let's have it!" cried Jerry, excitedly.

"He said that I was a fat, idiotic porpoise; and that did it."

"Did what?" cried Jerry.

"I'd got that big bombardon upside down in my hands, and, before I knew it, I'd brought it down on his bald head, just as if it was an extinguisher."

"And put him out!" said Jerry.

"Well, he put me out then, anyhow."

"And what did he say, then."

"Oh, he didn't say any more," replied Brumpton. "But I'm sorry I did it, and there'll be a big row."

"Mind shaking hands with me, sergeant?"

"No, my lad--not a bit."

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jerry after the operation. "That was a real honest English grip, and I wish d.i.c.k Smithson had been there to hear you take his part. He'll never come back now!"

"He will," said the sergeant, drily.

"Not he. Never show his face here again."

"No! We will show it for him, poor lad. Ah! it was a very mad thing to do; and, if the truth was known, not the first mad thing Smithson's done."

"Right," said Jerry.

"Look here, Jerry Brigley, you haven't been a soldier long enough to know how sharp the police are in tracking deserters. It don't take very long to send word all over the country that a man--described--has left his regiment."

"I dunno so much about that," said Jerry.

"Well, I do!" replied Brumpton. "Say the police here telegraph to twenty stations round, and each of those twenty stations wire to twenty, and each of those to another twenty, it don't take long, at that rate, to send all over the country. You mark my words: the bobbies won't be long before they put their hands on his shoulder and bring him back."

"Just as if he had stole something!" groaned Jerry.

"So he has," said the sergeant; "a smart, clever young man; and his clothes and all belonging to the Queen."

"But maybe he'll send the toggery back," pleaded Jerry.

"They don't want the clothes; they want the man!"

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

"TOO LATE! TOO LATE!"

It was about ten o'clock that evening, after the officers had left the mess-room, that one of the subalterns sauntered up to Lacey's quarters, where he found the latter waiting for his guests.

"Cigarette?" said Lacey.