A Gallant Grenadier: A Tale of the Crimean War Read online

  CHAPTER THREE.

  OUT INTO THE WORLD.

  Letters did not travel so rapidly in the year 1850 as nowadays, and thefact that a week elapsed between the despatch of Mr Ebden's note andits receipt at the vicarage at Riddington was not a matter to lead toabuse of the postal authorities; for the town in which Mr Western livedwas somewhat remote, and well away from the main line, and epistleswhich were addressed to its residents usually lay for a day or more at apost-office twenty miles away, from which they were removed at mosttwice a week. However, arrive the letter did at last, and Mr Western,gloomier and more severe if possible than ever, sat in his study readingit for the second time.

  "Look at that," he said icily, tossing it across to Joe, who stood inhis favourite position, leaning against the mantel-piece, with his handsbeneath the tails of his coat.

  "Humph! The young rascal!" Joe exclaimed with a chuckle, as soon as hehad glanced through it. "Got himself into trouble, and his master too.Young donkey! Mischievous young donkey, that's what he is, Edward; andnow he won't have a penny to bless himself with till his share of thestatue is paid for." Then aside to himself he muttered as he helpedhimself to snuff: "Humph! Must send him a tip. A few shillings arealways welcome to a school-boy."

  Mr Western stared gloomily at the fire and kept silent for a minute ormore. Then, bringing his hand down heavily upon the table, he exclaimedfretfully: "The boy worries me. What makes him wish to play thesepranks? I have done my best, and so has your sister. He has hadwarning enough, and surely ought to keep out of these troubles. Ibelieve he is wilfully mischievous, yes wilfully mischievous, and a badboy at heart, and I will have no more to do with him. I will give himone more start, and leave him to make his way in the world as best hecan. If he fails then he must look to himself, and thank himself alonefor the trouble he has fallen into."

  Joe started and looked uneasily at his brother-in-law.

  "Nonsense, Edward! Nonsense!" he said sharply. "I cannot make you out;and, to be perfectly candid, you are as much a mystery to me as the ladseems to be to you. Cannot you understand that he is simply full ofspirit, and though, no doubt, he is sorry afterwards for the pranks heplays, yet they are the result of thoughtlessness and an abundance ofgood health and animal spirits? Bless my life! where would England havebeen but for lads of his nature? A sunny, cheerful lad he is, and Itell you plainly you do him an injustice when you say he is bad atheart. Look at the letter again. Doesn't Mr Ebden admit that he ownedup like a gentleman? What more do you want? Would you have the boy agirl?"

  Joe snorted indignantly, and blew his nose so violently that Mr Westernstarted.

  "The misunderstanding is not on my side," he retorted. "I who havewatched him all these years should know; and it is you, Joseph, who havehelped to ruin him. You have egged him on, and now, when he should bequiet and steady, he is simply unmanageable. But we will not wrangleabout the matter. Philip shall leave Mr Ebden's house at the end ofthis term, and shall take a position as clerk in the office of a friendof mine. After that he must look to himself, for I will have no more todo with him."

  "Then I tell you the lad will not submit to your proposal," Joe saidhotly. "He is too free and easy to love one of your offices, and is notthe one to sit down tamely and have his spirit broken by long hours ofmonotonous drudgery, paid for at a rate which would disgust the averageworkman. But I will say nothing to dissuade him, though, mark my words,he will disappoint you again; and then, if he is thrown on the world, Iwill look after him. It is not for me, Edward, to remind you of yourresponsibilities to Phil. You took him from the gutter, as I have oftenheard you say, and it is your duty to bear with him, however troublesomehe may be. When he reaches man's age he will be well able to look tohimself, but till then he is a boy, just as thoughtless andhigh-spirited as I was, and his pranks should not be treated as thedeeds of a criminal.

  "He got into mischief at Riddington High School, and you were asked toremove him, not only that the discipline of the school might not suffer,but also for the sake of the lad himself. By separating him from somehigh-spirited companions there was a better chance that they and hemight settle down and become more sober, and the headmaster fullyrealised it. But why on that account you should send him to a schoolspecially set aside for incorrigible lads passed my comprehension, and,as you will remember, did not meet with my approval. As a matter offact Mr Ebden is a clever man, and took to leading and encouraging Philinstead of driving him. And now, merely because the foolish youngfellow is dragged into another piece of mischief--innocent, clean-mindedmischief, mind you--you would punish him severely, and possibly ruin hisfuture by placing him in a position in which all his energies will becramped, and from which he can scarcely hope to rise. I call it ashort-sighted policy, and most unfair treatment of the boy."

  Joe once more dipped into his snuff-box, blew his nose loudly, and then,seeing that his brother-in-law did not intend to reply, sniffed loudlyand stumped out of the room. A month later, when the end of the termarrived, Phil did not return to Riddington for the holidays, but insteadtook his box to a dingy lodging in the heart of the city, andstraightway set to work at his new duties.

  Mr Western had written a cold and reproving letter to him, warning himthat this was the last he could do for him; while Joe had sent him a fewcharacteristic lines telling him to do his best, and never to forgetthat he had one good friend in the world.

  Determined to get on well if possible, Phil was most assiduous in hisduties at the office, and took pains to master the writing put beforehim. His employer he saw little of, but whenever they met he wasgreeted politely, so that he had no cause to find fault in thatdirection. But lack of friends and lack of outdoor exercise soon toldupon him. He lost his healthy looks and became pale and listless, forin those days cycling was not in vogue, and it was seldom that a cityclerk was able to shake the soot and dirt of the streets from him andget into the country.

  "This won't do," thought Phil one evening as, chained to his desk onaccount of unusual business, he drove his pen till the figures wereblurred and his fingers cramped. "If this is the life before me I hadrather be a soldier or a sailor and earn my shilling a day, and a littleadventure. Fellows have often told me that a steady young soldier isbound to rise, and if he works hard and has a little education, may evenreach to commissioned rank. That takes years, of course, but supposingit took ten I should be better off than after spending the same time inthis office. Larking has been here fifteen years, and look what he is!"

  Phil raised his eyes from his work and stared thoughtfully at a bent andprematurely-aged man who sat on his right. "Yes, I'd sooner see theworld and run the risk of losing my life in some far-off country thanlive to grow up like that," he mused pityingly. "At any rate I'll goand have a chat with Sergeant-major Williams."

  The latter was a veteran of the Foot Guards, who had long ago earned apension, and now lived with his wife on the same landing as Phil.

  "Tired of your job, lad, are you?" he remarked, when Phil entered hisroom that night, saying that he had come for a chat and some advice."Well, now, I'm not greatly surprised; though, mind you, there's many apoor starving chap as would only be too glad to step into your shoes.What chance has a youngster in the army, you ask? Every chance, sir;every chance. Look at me"--and the old soldier stood upright on thehearth-rug and threw out his chest, thereby showing the row of medalspinned to his waistcoat. "I was your age, my lad, when I first 'listed,and when I had got my uniform and stood on parade for the first time,trying to look as though I knew all about it, with my chest somewhereclose to my back and my stomach showing well in front, why, thesergeant-major came along, and I thought to myself he must be thecolonel, and miles and miles above me. I never guessed I'd reach hisrank some day; but I did, sure enough, and steady, honest work, andbeing sober, was what lifted me there. But you've got education, andthat's the pull. I had to teach myself, and a precious grind it was;but with you it's different, and if you only keep out
of scrapes you'recertain to go up."

  "But I'm always in trouble and scrapes of one sort or another; at leastI was at school!" exclaimed Phil.

  "Yes, I dare say you was, and a precious baby you would be if you hadn'tbeen; but that sort of thing don't go down in the army. Discipline'sdiscipline, and so long as you remember that, and the fact that you'refilling a man's place and are no longer a school-boy, you're all right.Play your larks in the barrack-room as much as you like, and no one willmind; but never give cheek back to a non-commissioned officer as ordersyou to stop. It's mighty trying at times, I know. Some young chap ashas just been made a corporal gets beyond himself, and pitches into you.Grin and bear it is what you've got to do, and that's discipline, andit's minding that will help you to get on."

  "Then you think I shall do well to enlist?" asked Phil.

  "Do well? Of course you will. Why, I'd sooner pick rags than be at thework you're at," answered the sergeant-major. "How much do you earn aweek, my lad, if it isn't a rude question?"

  "Ten shillings, and extra if I'm kept overtime," said Phil.

  "Then you'll be no worse off in the army," exclaimed the old soldier."A shilling a day, less washing, and your extra messing, is what you'llhave, and it won't be long before you're receiving corporal's pay. Nowthink it over, lad. I've no wish to persuade you; but if you decide to'list for the army, I'll put you in the way of joining the finestregiment in the world."

  Phil thanked the sergeant-major, and retired to bed, only to lie awakethinking the matter over. By the following morning he had quite made uphis mind to be a soldier, and went in to see his friend.

  "Look here, sir," the latter exclaimed, flourishing a morning paper,"you've made up your mind to leave that musty office and join the army,but you're barely seventeen yet, you say. Now, I've something topropose, and something to show you. Before you 'list try what it's liketo rough it amongst rough men and earn your own living. Here's anadvertisement asking for hands in a kind of private zoo. I know theshow, and a friend of mine, an old soldier like myself, is office-man,and keeps the books. Take a job there for a few months and see how youlike the life, and then, if roughing it suits you, join the army. Eventhen you'll be too young; but you're big and strong, and a few monthswon't make a great deal of difference."

  "But I know nothing about animals," said Phil doubtfully. "I've riddena horse occasionally, and always had a dog when possible. What does theadvertisement say? Surely far more experience than I have had iswanted?"

  "Here you are, sir. Read it, and judge for yourself. It's as fine anoffer, and as good an opportunity for you to see what life is in therough, as you could wish for."

  Phil took the paper and read:

  _Wanted, a few hands in a large private menagerie. Applicants must beyoung and active, prepared to make themselves useful in any way, andmust not object to travelling_.

  Then it concluded by giving the address, which was in the suburbs ofLondon.

  "Well, what do you make of it?" asked the old soldier, who had watchedhis face closely all the time.

  "It certainly reads in a most inviting manner," Phil repliedhesitatingly; "but still I scarcely think it would suit me, for I reallyhave had no experience to teach me how to make myself useful. I shouldbe a raw hand who was always in the way, and should be dismissed beforea week had passed."

  "You've no need to worry about that, I can assure you, sir," thesergeant-major answered encouragingly. "My friend will see that youhave a fair chance given you, and I'll wager that a fortnight will setyou on your feet and make you as knowing as those who've been working ayear and longer with the firm. Mind you, though, I've scarcely morethan an idea what is really required. Anyone can make himself useful ifshown the way, but there must be a lot of work that's difficult andp'r'aps dangerous. One thing I've learnt from Timms, and that is, thatanimals has to be taken by road to various parties, and that means kindof camp or gipsy life at times. Now look you here, my lad. Just you goright off, read the 'vertisement again, and then think the matter over.It don't do to jump into these affairs, for you might find it a case of`out of the frying-pan into the fire'. There's the place; top of thecentre column. Come back this evening and tell me what you have decidedon."

  Phil did as the old soldier suggested. He took the paper to the office,and during the day thought the matter out, finally deciding to make theplunge and find out for himself what roughing it really meant.

  "After all," he mused, as he absently traced lines and figures on theblotting-paper, "I shall be in just the position I might have occupiedhad not Father taken me from home. My mother was a poor widow, and longago I should have had to earn my living and help to keep her too. I'lldo it. I cannot put up with this office life. A few years later itmight be different, but now it stifles me."

  Many a wiseacre might shake his head at Phil's cogitations, and moreemphatically still at his determination to abandon a certain livelihoodfor an extremely uncertain one. "Do not think of leaving the office,"some would say, "till a better place offers itself"; or "Remain whereyou are till you are thoroughly acquainted with business life, and cancommand a higher salary." Certainly the majority would be stronglyagainst his applying for the post proposed by the sergeant-major.

  But deep in Phil's heart was a desire to show his adoptive parents thathe had profited by their kindness, and was able to work his way up inthe world. He knew that by leaving his present place he would giveoccasion for more disappointment; but then, after many a chat withothers similarly situated, and being, for all his spirits, a thoughtfulyoung fellow who looked to the future, he came to the conclusion thathere he had no opportunity of rising. He knew that whenever a vacancyin some business house did occur there were plenty asking for it, and heknew, too, that without means at their disposal those who were selectedhad prospects none too brilliant. Many did rise undoubtedly from theoffice-stool to the armchair of the manager. But how many? Why shouldthat good fortune come his way? No, in an office he felt like a canaryin a cage; therefore he determined to forsake the life and seek one withmore of the open air about it, and a spice of danger and hardship thrownin. Who could say that luck would not come his way? If it did, perhapsit would give him just that necessary heave which would enable him toset foot upon the first rung of the ladder which leads upward to honourand glory, and a position of standing in the world.

  It was a brilliant prospect, and it must be admitted that Phil builtmany castles in the air. Yet for all that, once he had descended to_terra firma_, he plainly acknowledged to himself that plenty of hardwork, plenty of rough and tumble, and no doubt a share of privation andhardship, must be faced before the height of his ambition could bereached.

  "I've read the advertisement through," he said that evening, when oncemore seated in front of the sergeant-major, "and if you will introduceme to your friend I will apply for one of the vacant places. First ofall, though, I should like to hear whether they will have me, and then Iwill give my present employer notice."

  "Shake hands on it, lad! I'm glad you've decided, and I'll be hanged ifyou won't make a splendid workman, and one of these days as fine asoldier as ever stepped. Here's wishing you the best of luck. Nowwe'll go off to Timms right away and see what he has to say."

  Accordingly the two started off, and in due time reached a big buildingin which the menagerie had its home. Phil was introduced to Timms, asfine an old soldier as the sergeant-major, and was greatly relieved tohear that his services would be accepted at fifteen shillings a week.

  "Come in a week, when your notice is up," Timms said pleasantly, "andyour job will be waiting for you. You'll look after the horses atfirst, and perhaps we'll give you one of the cages later on. You'llwant rough clothes and strong boots, and, for sleeping, a couple ofthick rugs. Get a bag to hold your kit, and that will do for yourpillow as well. Set your mind easy, Williams. I'll look after the ladand see that he comes to no harm."

  That day week Phil left the office on the expiration o
f his notice,having meanwhile written to Mr Western and to Joe. Then he returned tohis room, packed the few valuables he possessed, and a couple of changesof clothing in a waterproof bag, and with this under one arm, and a rollof coarse blankets under the other, set out for the menagerie.

  "That you, youngster?" Timms asked cheerily. "'Pon my word I hardlyexpected you. Some fellows back out of a job like this at the lastmoment. But come along and I'll show you where you will sleep, and whowill be your mate. He's a good fellow, and will show you the ropes."

  Passing outside the building, Timms led the way to a large yard at theback in which was an assortment of the caravans which usually accompanya circus.

  "Jim!" he shouted. "Here, Jim, your new mate's arrived. Show himround."

  A jovial and dirty face, with a two-days' growth of beard upon it, wasthrust out of a wagon, and a voice called out: "Come right in here,mate. Glad to see yer. Bring your togs along."

  Phil scrambled up the steep steps and into the wagon, where, havinggrasped the hand extended to him, he looked round with some curiosity,noticing with much interest the two neat little bunks, one above theother, at the farther end, the diminutive table close to onered-curtained window, and the stove on the other side, filled with papershavings of all colours, and gold tinsel, with its chimney ofbrightly-polished brass.

  "Queer little house, mate, ain't it?" sang out the man who went by thename of Jim, busying himself with a pot of hot water and a shaving-brushand soap.

  "Yes, I've never been in a van of this sort before," said Phil. "Itlooks comfortable, and at any rate must be a good shelter on wetnights."

  "That it is, mate, and you'll find it so precious soon. We start atdaylight to-morrow on a long trip to the south, and I tell yer it'smighty pleasant to know as there's a warm fire, and a dry bed to getinto, when the water's coming down in buckets, and the wind's that coldit freezes yer to the marrer."

  Phil noted every little article in the van, and listened to the scrape,scrape of the razor as Jim removed his bristles. When this operationwas completed, Jim took him round the horses, and having initiated himinto the mysterious duties of a stableman, invited him back to the wagonto tea.

  "Timms and I sleep here," he remarked, with his pipe firmly clenchedbetween his teeth, "and you'll put your rugs down on the floor. We'llmess together, and you'll find that five bob a week joined to our twofives will feed us well and leave the rest in our pockets. The otherchaps has their own messes. I'll take yer round to see them soon.They're a queer lot; some has been sailors and soldiers, and someanything at all. Others has been at this game all their lives. You'lllearn to know them all in a few days, and I'll give yer a hint--keepclear of the rowdy ones. They soon gets the sack, for the boss is veryparticular, and won't have no drinking and such like goings-on.

  "Now about your job. What do you know of animals, and what class areyer on top of a horse what ain't 'xactly a camel?"

  "I am sorry to say I am hopelessly ignorant of the first," Philanswered. "I've ridden horses often, and can manage to keep in mysaddle as a rule, but cannot boast that I am a good horseman."

  "Oh, you'll do! besides, I can see you're willing to learn and has gotthe grit to stick to things that might bother others of your sort.You're to be my mate, and for a time, at any rate, we shall be on themove. The gent who runs this business keeps five and six such vans asthis moving most of the year, besides the cages, of course, whichfollow.

  "You see, agents in furrin parts collects lions and every sort of animaldown to snakes, and sends them to England. No sooner does the ship comealongside the river dock than some of us are there with cages, mountedon wheels and drawn by horses. We unload the animals, slip 'em into thecage, and bring them here. A day or two later, perhaps a week, or evenas long after as a month, someone wants one or other of them beasts, andarranges to buy him from the guv'nor. Then in he goes into thetravelling-cage again, and off we take him to wherever he's beenordered. Of course there's railroads nowadays; but they are riskythings at any time, and the wild beasts we deal in catch cold, and fallsick so easy that it's been found cheaper and safer to take 'em by road.And a very pleasant life it is, to be sure. With two of us on thebeat, and drawing our own house, we're as comfortable as chaps couldwish for. Every day there's something different to look at and askquestions about, and every evening, when yer pull up on some waysidepiece of ground and start to water and feed the animals, there's newscenery and new people around yer, the last always ready to be civil andpolite. Yes, it's a free, easy life, with plenty of change and movementto make yer work come pleasant and light. You'll like it, lad. By theway--what's yer name? Ah, Philip Western! Well, Phil, I've told yerpretty nigh all I can think about. Timms and me start early to-morrow,as I told yer, so turn in soon to-night. We'll teach yer all yer wantto know while on the road, and if yer only keeps yer eyes open you'llsoon get a hold on the work." Jim nodded pleasantly, and having invitedPhil to sit down for a short time and rest himself, he ran down thesteps of the van and went to complete his daily work.

  "Of course all this is very different from office life," mused Phil,looking round, and still finding many little things in the quainttravelling house to interest and amuse him, "I can see that any kind ofwork is expected of me, and I must not be afraid of dirtying my hands.A few months at this will show me whether or not I shall like the army,for I remember the sergeant-major told me that there too the men havenumerous fatigues to do, cleaning barracks and quarters, carrying coal,and a hundred-and-one other things. Yes, I've come to rough it, andI'll do my utmost to prove useful. It seems, too, that this travellingwith wild beasts is very much liked by the other men. It will be funnyto be constantly on the move, and constantly seeing fresh places. Well,I think I shall like it. It will be what I have hankered after--anopen-air life,--and since Jim is to be my companion I feel sure I shallbe happy, for he looks an excellent fellow."

  Indeed, though outwardly rough, Jim was a sterling good fellow, with akind heart beating beneath his weather-stained jacket. Already he hadtaken a liking to Phil, and seeing that he was altogether different fromthe new hands usually employed, and moreover having heard something ofhis story from Timms, he determined to look after his charge and makelife as pleasant for him as possible.

  That evening the three who were to be companions supped at a littlecoffee-stall standing close outside the menagerie, and, having returnedto the van, indulged in a chat before turning-in. Then Jim and the oldsoldier Timms climbed into their bunks, while Phil spread his blanketson the floor, and with his kit-bag beneath his head soon fell asleep, tobe wakened, however, every now and again by the roaring of a big Africanlion, which had arrived two days before, and was caged close at hand.

  Day had scarcely dawned when Jim turned over in his bunk, yawned loudly,and, sitting up with a start, consulted a silver watch, of theproportions of a turnip, which dangled from the arched roof of the van."Five o'clock, and not a soul stirring!" he cried. "Up, up yer get, allof yer. Look lively now, or else we'll be moving before we've had amorning meal."

  "What! Time for breakfast! Hullo, where am I?" cried Phil, sitting upwith a start and staring round in bewilderment. Then the truth dawnedupon him, and, throwing off his blankets, he rose to his feet.

  "What orders, Jim?" he asked.

  "Come along with me, Phil. That's the orders. Timms'll see to thebreakfast, while you and me looks to the horses."

  Hurriedly throwing on their coats--for they had discarded nothing morewhen they turned in on the previous night--they ran down the steps tothe stables, where they found other men at work busily grooming theiranimals. Instructed by Jim, Phil started with a brush upon the smoothcoat of a fine draught horse which was to form one of their team. Fromthat he went to another, while Jim looked to the other two. That donethe animals were fed, and while Phil returned to the van Jim went to seethat the lion they were to transport was safely caged and fed inpreparation for the journey.

  Meanwhile Timms
had not been idle. As Phil reached the van he emergedfrom a doorway opposite, bearing a kettle, from the spout of which acloud of steam was puffing. Already he had placed a rough folding-tableon the ground, and now he proceeded to infuse the tea. Then he divedinto the van, to reappear immediately with plates and knives and enoughcups and saucers. Ten minutes later Jim had returned, and, sittingdown, the three hastily swallowed thick slices of bread and butter,washing them down with cups of steaming tea.

  "That'll keep us quiet for a few hours, I reckon," exclaimed Jim,jumping to his feet and hastily filling a pipe in preparation for amorning smoke. "Now, young un, you and me'll slip off and harness thehorses, while our mate cleans up the breakfast things."

  Half an hour later two fine horses had been yoked to the van, whileanother pair had been harnessed to the large boxed-in cage on wheels,which enclosed the magnificent animal they were to transport. A sack ofcorn was placed on the van, and a large joint of horse-flesh hungbeneath, and then, fully prepared for the journey, the gates were thrownopen, and with nodded adieus from the other hands they issued from theyard and took the road for Brighton, Jim driving the horses in the van,with Phil by his side, while Timms went in front in charge of the lion.Trundling over the London cobbles they crossed one of the bridges, andbefore very long were out of the great city and enjoying to the full thesunshine and sweet breath of the country.