Blue Lights | Page 6

In the
circumstances, however, and with a strangely desolate feeling of
loneliness creeping over him, he did not see his way to reject a civil
offer.

"Thank you. I am indeed a stranger, and happen to have neither friend
nor acquaintance in the town, so if you can put me in the way of
finding a respectable lodging--a--a cheap one, you will greatly oblige
me."
"With pleasure," said the man, "if you will accompany--"
"Stay, don't trouble yourself to show me the way," interrupted Miles;
"just name a house and the street, that will--"
"No trouble at all, sir," said the man. "I happen to be going in the
direction of the docks, and know of excellent as well as cheap lodgings
there."
Making no further objection, Miles followed his new friend into the
street. For some time, the crowd being considerable and noisy, they
walked in silence.
At the time we write of, Portsmouth was ringing with martial music
and preparations for war.
At all times the red-coats and the blue-jackets are prominent in the
streets of that seaport; for almost the whole of our army passes through
it at one period or another, either in going to or returning from "foreign
parts." But at this time there was the additional bustle resulting from
the Egyptian war. Exceptional activity prevailed in its yards, and hurry
in its streets. Recruits, recently enlisted, flocked into it from all quarters,
while on its jetties were frequently landed the sad fruits of war in the
form of wounded men.
"Have you ever been in Portsmouth before?" asked the shabby-genteel
man, on reaching a part of the town which was more open and less
crowded.
"Never. I had no idea it was so large and bustling," said Miles.
"The crowding and bustling is largely increased just now, of course, in
consequence of the war in Egypt," returned the man. "Troops are

constantly embarking, and others returning. It is a noble service! Men
start in thousands from this port young, hearty, healthy, and full of
spirit; they return--those of them who return at all--sickly, broken-down,
and with no spirit at all except what they soon get poured into them by
the publicans. Yes; commend me to the service of my Queen and
country!"
There was a sneering tone in the man's voice which fired his
companion's easily roused indignation.
"Mind what you say about our Queen while in my company," said
Miles sternly, stopping short and looking the man full in the face. "I am
a loyal subject, and will listen to nothing said in disparagement of the
Queen or of her Majesty's forces."
"Bless you, sir," said the man quickly, "I'm a loyal subject myself, and
wouldn't for the world say a word against her Majesty. No more would
I disparage her troops; but, after all, the army ain't perfect, you know.
Even you must admit that, sir. With all its noble qualities there's room
for improvement."
There was such an air of sincerity--or at least of assumed humility--in
the man's tone and manner that Miles felt it unjustifiable to retain his
indignation. At the same time, he could not all at once repress it, and
was hesitating whether to fling off from the man or to forgive him,
when the sound of many voices, and of feet tramping in regular time,
struck his ear and diverted his attention. Next moment the head of a
regiment, accompanied by a crowd of juvenile admirers, swept round
the corner of the street. At the same instant a forest of bayonets
gleamed upon the youth's vision, and a brass band burst with crashing
grandeur upon his ear, sending a quiver of enthusiasm into the deepest
recesses of his soul, and stirring the very marrow in his bones!
Miles stood entranced until the regiment had passed, and the martial
strains were softened by distance; then he looked up and perceived that
his shabby companion was regarding him with a peculiar smile.
"I think you've a notion of being a soldier," he said, with a smile.

"Where is that regiment going?" asked Miles, instead of answering the
question.
"To barracks at present; to Egypt in a few days. There'll be more
followin' it before long."
It was a distracting as well as an exciting walk that Miles had through
the town, for at every turn he passed couples or groups of soldiers, or
sailors, or marines, and innumerable questions sprang into and jostled
each other in his mind, while, at the same moment, his thoughts and
feelings were busy with his present circumstances and future prospects.
The distraction was increased by the remarks and comments of his
guide, and he would fain have got rid of him; but good-feeling, as well
as common-sense, forbade his casting him off without sufficient
reason.
Presently