Gil the Gunner | Page 3

George Manville Fenn
sharply, "that's it; you have not got on badly with your studies. From every professor I have had the same report, that your papers are excellent. That's where it is. You were nearly at the head of the list in the artillery, and it was only just that you should be appointed. But, all the same, you dog, you've influential people at your back. That old uncle the director. I hope one of these days both services will give their promotions and appointments by merit alone."
"Then you think it unjust, sir, that one so young as I am should get his commission?" I said warmly.
"No, I do not, Vincent. Don't be so peppery. What a temper you have, sir. You must master that. I think, in this instance, the interest has been well exercised. I have had plenty of inquiries about you, and I've been obliged to speak well of you always."
I coloured a little.
"You're too young, but they want officers badly, and you'll soon get older, and I have no doubt will make a good soldier, if you command your temper. You ought to have been in the engineers, though."
"Oh no, sir," I said eagerly. "I want to be a gunner. Is the commission for the Horse Artillery?"
He laughed and took snuff.
"Why, you conceited young greenhorn!" he said good-humouredly. "Has all the teaching of the Honourable the East India Company's profession been so poor here at Brandscombe, that you have not learned that it is quite a promotion to get into the Horse Brigade. That they are picked men from the foot--men full of dash--who can afford to keep the best of horses, and who are ready to ride at anything."
"My uncle would let me have any horses I want, sir," I said; "and I can ride."
"Like a gentleman in the park," he said contemptuously.
"No, sir," I said warmly. "My father is a splendid horseman, and I've hunted a great deal. Why, he used to put me on a pony when I was only six, and whenever I was at home he made me hunt with him, and go straight across country."
"Humph! Wonder he did not break your neck!"
"Oh no, sir," I replied; "but I have broken my arm, and had some falls."
"Ah, well; be content with your commission in the foot. Some day, perhaps, you may get into the horse, especially if you ride well, and have some interest to back you up. Well, I congratulate you, Vincent, my lad, and I am well satisfied with your progress."
"Satisfied, sir?" I said, as I recalled the scolding of an hour earlier.
"Oh yes, on the whole, my boy. You've got the makings of a good soldier in you. Little too fond of fighting. Ought to be in your favour, eh? But it isn't. A good officer never fights if he can help it; but when he does, why, of course, he fights skilfully, and lets the enemy know that he is in earnest. But seriously, Vincent, you have one great failing."
"More than one, sir, I'm afraid," I said dolefully.
"Never mind the others; perhaps they'll cure themselves. But you must keep a strict watch over that temper of yours, eh?"
"Yes, sir," I said penitently; "I have a horrible temper."
"A temper, Vincent, not a horrible temper. And I don't know that you need regret it so long as you learn to subdue it. Tight-curb, that's all. Make a better soldier of you. It means spirit and decision, properly schooled. Oh, you'll do, boy. I should like to turn out another hundred of you."
I stared at him in surprise, for I had been working under my military tutor always troubled by the impression that I was the most troublesome pupil he had, and that I was getting on worse than any fellow there.
"I mean it, boy," he said, smiling and taking another tiny pinch of snuff. "Well, Vincent, my lad, I congratulate you. An hour ago you were my student and pupil; this despatch tells me that you are now my brother-officer. So good speed to you, and God bless you!"
His eyes looked a little moist as he shook hands with me warmly, and, though my own eyes felt a little misty from emotion, a cloud seemed to pass from them, and I began to realise that I had been fancying all kinds of things which were not true.
"Sit down, my dear lad, and let's have a bit of a chat," continued the general. "This is a short notice."
"Short, sir?" I said wonderingly.
"Oh yes; very. You are to go out in the Jumna on the twenty-ninth. There's just three weeks for preparation and the good-byes."
"So soon, sir?" I cried excitedly.
"Yes, so soon. There's a Captain Brace going out in charge of a draft of men from Warley--recruits, of course. You go under his
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