Gil the Gunner

Gil the Gunner
or, The Youngest Officer in the East
by George Manville Fenn.
CHAPTER ONE.
"You're another."
"So are you."
"I am, am I?"
"Yes; a cocky overbearing bully. You want your comb cut, Gil
Vincent."
"Cut it, then, you miserable humbug. Take that." Crack--thud!
My fist went home on Morton's cheek, and almost simultaneously his
flew out and struck me in the ribs. Crack--thud! Morton's return
sounding like an echo of my blow.
There was a buzz of excitement. Coats flew off; two of our fellows
eagerly pressed forward to act as seconds; my shirt-sleeves were rolled
up over my thin arms, and in another instant we two fellow-pupils were
squaring at each other, and I was gathering myself up to deliver as hard
a blow as I could when--
"Stop! halt!" came in a sharp harsh voice, and General Crucie, with the
great scar upon his white forehead looking red and inflamed as it
always did when he was angry, strode up, thumped down his thick
malacca cane, so that the ferule went into the grass and it stood alone,
while he looked from one to the other fiercely.

"Upon my word!" he cried. "Very pretty! Two gentlemen flying at each
others' throats like a couple of street boys. A regular blackguardly fight.
I'm ashamed of you, gentlemen. What does it all mean?"
"Well, sir, it was like this," began Hendry, my second.
"Silence, sir! I will not hear a word. I pretty well know what it all
means. You, Vincent, as usual; that nasty overbearing temper of yours
again. Is it utterly impossible for you to live in unity with your
fellow-students?"
"No, sir; not if they would let me be, and not fasten quarrels on me," I
cried in an ill-used tone.
"Stuff, sir! rubbish, sir! nonsense, sir!" cried the general. "I know you
better than you know yourself; and, mark my words, you will never
succeed in your profession until you learn to behave like a gentleman.
How can you expect to command men if you cannot command yourself.
There, I'll hear no more, for I'm sure you have been in the wrong."
The general pointed in so unmistakable a manner that I walked off with
my uniform jacket half on, slowly thrusting my arm into the vacant
sleeve, and thinking bitterly, with my head bent and my forehead
wrinkled up like that of an old man.
I was not long in reaching my little room, a favourite one amongst our
fellows; and as I shut myself in, and locked the door, my conscience
reproached me with certain passages in the past which led to my having
that room, when a fellow-student gave way in my favour, and I don't
think it was from kindly feeling towards me.
"I'm a miserable, unhappy wretch," I said, as I threw myself in a chair
which resented the rough usage by creaking violently and threatening
to break one leg. "Nobody likes me. I'm always getting into trouble,
and every one will be glad when I am gone to Calcutta, Madras, or
Bombay."
I sat scowling down at the floor, thinking of how the others made

friends and were regular companions, while I was almost avoided--at
any rate, not sought out.
"Is it all my fault?" I thought; and that day I had a very long think as I
wondered why I was so different from other fellows of my age. I
believed I was affectionate, for I felt very miserable when I saw my
father off with his regiment four years before, and he sailed for the
Madras Presidency, and I went back home with my mind made up to
work hard at my studies; to look well after my mother and Grace; and
always to be a gentleman in every act and thought.
And as I sat there in the silence of my own room, I asked myself
whether I had done exactly as my father had wished.
"I might have worked harder," I owned. "I might have been more of a
gentleman. But I did try."
Then I began thinking that I had given my mother a good deal of
trouble before she and Grace went out to join my father at Madras.
"But mamma did not mind," I said to myself, for nothing could have
been more loving than our parting, when I was so miserable at being
left that I felt as if everything were at an end.
"The fellows don't understand me," I said at last. "And now if I try to
be extra civil to any one of them, they all laugh and think I mean
something--want to borrow money, or get another favour."
This had been at the bottom of the quarrel that morning, and as I sat
there thinking, I grew