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if the bell had
not rung at the moment, and, "Now, then, take your seats!" put an end
to the controversy.
Another minute, and Miles Milton was seated opposite the two soldiers,
rushing towards our great southern seaport at the rate of forty miles an
hour.
CHAPTER TWO.
SHOWS SOME OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF THE FALSE STEP,
AND INTRODUCES THE READER TO PECULIAR COMPANY.
Our hero soon discovered that the sergeant was an old campaigner,
having been out in Egypt at the beginning of the war, and fought at the
famous battle of Tel-el-Kebir.
In his grave and undemonstrative way and quiet voice, this man related
some of his experiences, so as not only to gain the attention of his
companion in arms, but to fascinate all who chanced to be within
earshot of him--not the least interested among whom, of course, was
our friend Miles.
As the sergeant continued to expatiate on those incidents of the war
which had come under his own observation, three points impressed
themselves on our hero: first, that the sergeant was evidently a man of
serious, if not religious, spirit; second, that while he gave all due credit
to his comrades for their bravery in action, he dwelt chiefly on those
incidents which brought out the higher qualities of the men, such as

uncomplaining endurance, forbearance, etcetera, and he never boasted
of having given "a thorough licking" to the Egyptians, nor spoke
disparagingly of the native troops; lastly, that he seemed to lay himself
out with a special view to the unflagging entertainment of his young
comrade.
The reason for this last purpose he learned during a short halt at one of
the stations. Seeing the sergeant standing alone there, Miles, after
accosting him with the inevitable references to the state of the weather,
remarked that his comrade seemed to be almost too young for the rough
work of soldiering.
"Yes, he is young enough, but older than he looks," answered the
sergeant. "Poor lad! I'm sorry for him."
"Indeed! He does not seem to me a fit subject for pity. Young, strong,
handsome, intelligent, he seems pretty well furnished to begin the battle
of life--especially in the army."
"`Things are not what they seem,'" returned the soldier, regarding his
young questioner with something between a compassionate and an
amused look. "`All is not gold that glitters.' Soldiering is not made up
of brass bands, swords, and red coats!"
"Having read a good deal of history I am well aware of that," retorted
Miles, who was somewhat offended by the implication contained in the
sergeant's remarks.
"Well, then, you see," continued the sergeant, "all the advantages that
you have mentioned, and which my comrade certainly possesses, weigh
nothing with him at all just now, because this sudden call to the wars
separates him from his poor young wife."
"Wife!" exclaimed Miles; "why, he seems to me little more than a
boy-- except in size, and perhaps in gravity."
"He is over twenty, and, as to gravity--well, most young fellows would
be grave enough if they had to leave a pretty young wife after six

months of wedded life. You see, he married without leave, and so, even
if it were a time of peace, his wife would not be recognised by the
service. In wartime he must of course leave her behind him. It has been
a hard job to prevent him from deserting, and now it's all I can do to
divert his attention from his sorrow by stirring him up with tales of the
recent wars."
At this point the inexorable bell rang, doors were banged, whistles
sounded, and the journey was resumed.
Arrived at Portsmouth, Miles was quickly involved in the bustle of the
platform. He had made up his mind to have some private conversation
with the sergeant as to the possibility of entering her Majesty's service
as a private soldier, and was on the point of accompanying his military
travelling companions into the comparative quiet of the street when a
porter touched his cap--
"Any luggage, sir?"
"Luggage?--a--no--no luggage!"
It was the first moment since leaving home that the thought of luggage
had entered into his brain! That thought naturally aroused other
thoughts, such as lodgings, food, friends, funds, and the like. On
turning to the spot where his military companions had stood, he
discovered that they were gone. Running to the nearest door-way he
found it to be the wrong one, and before he found the right one and
reached the street the two soldiers had vanished from the scene.
"You seem to be a stranger here, sir. Can I direct you?" said an
insinuating voice at his elbow.
The speaker was an elderly man of shabby-genteel appearance and
polite address. Miles did not quite like the look of him.