Читать книгу Private Selby - Edgar Wallace - Страница 11

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THE recruiting office at Woolwich is situated in the Artillery Barracks. Was it fortunate or unfortunate for Dick Selby that the carrying out of structural alterations necessitated the removal of the recruiting officer, with his scales, his standard, stethoscope, dot card, and the like, to the Red Barracks?

Walking up and down outside the office, he was at one time distinctly under the impression that the occurrence was unfortunate. For from a score of windows solemn eyes were regarding him. The sentry, standing at ease before the guard-room, surveyed him with an air of possession, and over the whitened panes of the guard-room window helmeted men kept watch.

Worst of all, Bill Blake and "Long" Long hovered round him incessantly, and in the background, like an obese ghost, flitted Shorty.

On one pretext or another these three massed and repassed with splendid nonchalance, yet flinging scraps of advice and comfort as they passed.

"Had your bath?" said Private Blake, stooping to tie a convenient bootlace; and Dick nodded.

"Had a good breakfast?"

"Yes."

Evidently satisfied that outwardly and inwardly he was prepared for the ordeal, Bill passed on.

Later came Long.

"Don't let 'em put you in the cavalry," he whispered, "nor artillery neither—say 'Rochesters' very plain."

Dick gave a sign of assent.

"Don't let 'em put you off—say 'Rochesters'!"

Shorty, with apprehensive glances to left and right, came with the same advice.

"Tell 'em," he said, in a hoarse, confidential growl, "that you've a brother in the Rochesters. Say he's in the first battalion, an' that you want to serve with him."

Dick began to have some doubts. Was it such a difficult matter to obtain admission to the Army? He had come with no misgivings on the subject. His health was good, and he prided himself upon his education. Subconsciously, he was aware of a sense of condescension towards military men and things. That the Brown Lady should want him to enlist was a remarkable thing; he had not dreamt of acting contrary to her wishes—still, it was remarkable. He brought, therefore, to his attestation, a spirit of superiority, and the mere suggestion that perhaps the Army was not anxious to receive him, set him momentarily in a panic.

He was no snob; his philosophy, crude as it was, admitted even soldiers to equality. He was wrong-viewed and his perspective was a little askew. In the world in which he had lived soldiers were rather looked down upon. His landlady had a son whose portrait adorned a wall of the parlour—a snub-nosed, vacant-faced boy, who parted his hair in the middle, and wore the uniform of the Royal West Kent Regiment. Vaguely, this portrait, with its everlasting smirk and its cheap gold frame, had represented the Army in his mind. He had had visions of line upon line of scarlet-coated, snub-nosed boys gazing vacantly at nothing, and answering to the name of Fred.

"They'll try to kid you that we're full."

Long was back again, his voice sunk to a croak.

"If they ask you to go to the Buffs, say that you'd rather wait till the Rochesters are open."

Yes, this was the Army in a new light. A profession difficult to enter, it would appear. The recruiting officers were conspiring together to keep him from the Rochesters—all this was suggested.

A voice called him—a sharp, metallic, passionless voice, and at the command in it, in the significance of its peremptory tone, he shivered a little.

"Selby!"

He went into the ante-room, bare of furniture, save for two chairs and a table on trestles. A bright fire burnt in a big grate, and there was a folded army blanket in lieu of a hearthrug.

"Strip!" said his director. This man was in blue, with faded red facings. He had on his right arm three crooked stripes and a little red cross. Dick gathered that this was the medical staff man, and that he was a corporal or something. He watched the boy strip. Then he led him through a door to a smaller room. There were two tables covered with documents, a weighing-machine, an instrument for gauging height, a basin of water with soap and towel, and divers other things that the new recruit did not at first see.

A smartly dressed officer rose as he entered, and came to him. He tapped him scientifically, applied a dangling stethoscope to his breast and back, measured him, and weighed him.

Then there was sight-testing, and a hopping on one leg across the room.

The officer went back to his table.

"All right," was his only comment; and Dick went out to resume his clothing.

Not till the last button was fastened, and he stood in some temerity before the sergeant again, did he learn the verdict.

"You've passed," said the sergeant. "You will appear before the colonel this afternoon. Go out and get some lunch."

Then he remembered something. "What regiment are you enlisting in, Selby?"

"Rochesters, sergeant," said Dick promptly.

The sergeant looked dubious.

"You are big enough for the cavalry," he said.

"I'd rather—much rather " Dick stammered.

"Rather go into the infantry, eh?"

Dick nodded.

"I think you're wise," said the sergeant, and Dick felt that he had a friend in the enemy's camp. He walked through the barrack gates with fine unconcern, but as he came near to the station, he quickened his steps, for he was on his way to meet the Brown Lady.

She had accompanied him that morning from London, ostensibly to cheer and support him while he underwent his ordeal. But not a cheerful or encouraging word had come from her. They had made the journey in silence, and Dick, stealing a glance at her now and then, had felt disturbed in mind. She had been crying, he thought, and when for some part of the way they had been in the carriage alone, he had longed to take possession of the slim little hand lying on her lap, but had not dared. His one comforting thought on leaving her was that they were to meet again as soon as his examination should be over.

"You've passed, Dick," she said rather than asked. "Then you must come and give me some lunch—or let me give you some."

I believe they ate their first meal together in silence.

If this were love-making, if this, indeed, were courtship, surely there never was a stranger one.

After lunch he went with her to the station and put her into the London train.

"Dick," she whispered, as she leaned out of the carriage, "you will be seeing the colonel this afternoon. Dick, you mustn't disappoint me, you are all I have got now."

The train was beginning to move, but he still kept the little brown-gloved hand tightly in his.

"And you are all I have got," he echoed stupidly.

That was all he could bring his lips to say, but the look of worship in his eyes must have satisfied his "O.C.," for she smiled faintly.

"Stand back, there," shouted the guard.

The Brown Lady sank back into her seat and Dick stood with bared head as the train glided out of the station.

On his return to the barracks, Dick had to wait outside an orderly-room for the greater part of an hour, and when he was summoned to the colonel's room he found two officers there. The elder man, with a breast that blazed with medal ribbons, was seated; the younger stood by his side. They were talking as he was ushered in.

"Very sad—very, very sad," said the older man, and shook his head. Then he looked at Dick absently.

"This is the man who wishes to enlist in Ours, sir," said the young officer, and the colonel regarded him with interest.

He picked up a plainly bound book and handed it to the wondering youth. Dick thought that this was a piece of absent-mindedness, and glanced at the title.

"The Bible," he read.

"Very sad," continued the colonel—"committed suicide in his cell, did he? To think that he once commanded this battalion!"

The words were not intended for Dick's ear, but suddenly it flashed upon him that the officers were speaking of the Brown Lady's father.

In a moment the meaning of her sadness, her silence was explained; and he stood shocked and dazed.

He had not looked at a paper that morning and he cursed himself for his negligence. She had been in trouble and he had offered her no sympathy: she had been silent and he had not understood her silence.

Her face rose before his mind and he looked with shrinking for a hint of reproach in the grey eyes. But there was none. Instead, they seemed to shine with hope for the future. Her words came back to him: "Dick, you mustn't disappoint me, you are all I have left now."

"And I will not disappoint you," Dick vowed to her mentally. "Whatever you demand of me—that I will pay."

And as he stood there by the table, Bible in hand, he felt himself to be entering upon a new inheritance of personal power that he had never known before. He felt at this moment of insight that the Brown Lady was more himself than himself, and he yielded himself unreservedly to her guiding influence.

Then he became aware that the colonel had risen and had removed his cap. He began to speak, and, as in a dream, Dick listened.

"You, Richard Selby, swear allegiance to His Majesty, his heirs and successors, that you will be a true and obedient servant to His Majesty, his heirs and successors, and to the generals and officers set over you by His Majesty the King, so help you God."

"So help me God," said Dick solemnly, and kissed the book.