In the Track of the Troops | Page 5

it had
been any other than my wedding dress, which--but--well, it's of no use
regretting now; and you know, Jeff, I would not have checked you for
worlds, because I knew you were being led in the right way, though, in
my folly, I sometimes wished that the way had been a little further
removed from smoke and smells. But, after all, you were very careful,
dear boy--wonderfully so, for your years, and your little accidents did
not give me much pain beyond the day of their occurrence. The
poisoning of the cat, to be sure, was sad, though unavoidable, and so
was the destruction by fire of the cook's hair; but the flooding of the
house, after the repairs you executed on the great cistern, and the
blowing out of the laundry window at the time the clothes-boiler was
cracked, with other trifles of that sort, were--"
The remainder of my mother's speech was cut short by a clattering of
hoofs.
Next moment my sister Bella came round the corner of the house at full
gallop, her fresh face beaming with the exercise, and her golden hair
streaming in the breeze.

She pulled up, leaped off her pony, and ran into the room. As she did so,
I observed a tall, soldierly man appear in the avenue, advancing with
rapid strides. Well did I know his grave, handsome face.
"Here comes Nicholas!" said I, turning round; but Bella had fled.
I observed that my friend, instead of coming straight to the room from
the window of which my mother and I had saluted him, turned sharp
off to the library.
I was running to the door to welcome him, when my mother called me
back. I turned and looked at her. She smiled. So did I. Without uttering
a word we both sat down to finish our breakfast.
"Ah! Jeff," said my mother, with a little sigh, "how I wish you would
fall in love with some one!"
"Fall in love, mother! What nonsense! How could I? No doubt there are
plenty loveable girls, and there is one charming little--well, no
matter--"
At that moment Nicholas entered the room, heartily saluted my mother,
and cut short our conversation.
CHAPTER TWO.
IS STILL MORE EXPLOSIVE THAN THE FIRST.
Much to my surprise, I found that neither Nicholas Naranovitsch nor
Bella nor my mother would consent to witness my experiments with
dynamite that day.
As my old chum approached to greet me on the lawn before breakfast
the day following, I could not help admiring his fine, tall, athletic
figure. I don't know how it is, but I have always felt, somehow, as if I
looked up at him, although we were both exactly the same height--six
feet one without our boots. I suppose it must have been owing to his
standing so erect, while I slouched a little. Perhaps my looking up to

him mentally had something to do with it.
"You'll come to-day, won't you?" I said, referring to the experiments.
"Of course I will, old boy; but," he added, with a smile, "only on one
condition."
"What may that be?"
"That you don't bother Bella with minute details."
Of course I promised not to say a word unless asked for explanations,
and after breakfast we all went to a part of the grounds which I wished
to bring under cultivation. It was at that time encumbered with several
large trees, old roots, and a number of boulders.
"Come along with us, Lancey," I said to the groom, who was also my
laboratory assistant, and whom I met in the stable-yard, the scene of his
memorable blowing-up. "I am about to try the effect of an explosive,
and wish you to understand the details."
"Yes, sir," replied Lancey, with a respectful touch of his cap; "I must
say, sir, if you'll allow me, I never knowed any one like you, sir, for
goin' into details except one, and that one--"
"Ah, yes, I know, that was your friend the Scotch boy," said I,
interrupting; but Lancey was a privileged servant, and would not be
interrupted.
"Yes, sir," he resumed, "the Scotch boy Sandy. We was at school
together in Edinburgh, where I got the most o' my edication, and I
never did see such a boy, sir, for goin' into--"
"Yes, yes, Lancey, I know; but I haven't time to talk about him just now.
We are going to the bit of waste ground in the hollow; follow us there."
I was obliged to cut him short, because this Scotch hero of his was a
subject on which he could not resist dilating on the slightest
encouragement.

Arrived at the waste ground, we met the manager of a neighbouring
mine, who was deeply learned in everything connected with blasting.
"I have brought