It seemed as if fate had resolved to make Gibraltar the gathering-place of those with whom Herbert Larkins was destined to be most closely concerned. Not long after the rencontre with his best friends, the Larkins’, the news came that General Prioleau had been appointed to the command of the Infantry Brigade upon the Rock. Before the year was out, the former colonel of the Duke’s Own arrived with his wife and little Edith, now fast growing into a beautiful and attractive girl.

It was not long before Herbert saw her, and had an opportunity of noticing the change.

[220]

General Prioleau, like many others of his rank, had a strong affection for his old corps, a sort of sneaking regard which, although it did him all honour, led him to wish that he still commanded it, and to act very much as if he did. He was not the first general officer who, entrusted with the charge of several battalions, narrowed his interest to the one in which he had himself served. To dry-nurse the Duke’s Own on field days, to take an active share in its interior economy, to watch over its mess and all that appertained to the credit of the regiment, and generally to be as intimately associated with it as though he were still its colonel, were delights he could not forego. He was continually sending for Colonel Diggle to talk matters over, an interference which the great Cavendish resented, but was prohibited from protesting[221] against, by the rules of the service. Mrs. Diggle was not, and took full advantage of her exemption from the restrictions of military etiquette, to the extent of soundly abusing the general upon every occasion. Not that General Prioleau much cared. He did not command Mrs. Cavendish-Diggle, and directly he had made her acquaintance in her new character, he was heartily glad that he did not.

The general also visited the barracks of his old regiment repeatedly, on one excuse or another, but always with the avowed and really sincere intention of doing it a good turn. Now it was the reappropriation of quarters. Now the examination of drainage. Now the inspection of the married quarters or the canteen. Edith almost invariably accompanied him. She was in her element out here upon the Rock. The[222] r?le she now played was even more delightful than that of daughter of the regiment. There was much more importance and more movement in it. More variety too, and more power. Instead of knowing one regiment only, she now knew half a dozen. The circle of her acquaintance widened, and her military knowledge, such as it was. But her heart was with her first love always—the Duke’s Own. When the general inspected the old regiment, she stayed by his side through it all. They made her go in to lunch, much to quiet Mrs. Prioleau’s indignation when she heard of it; she sat on her pony close by the general, and, to judge by her remarks, seemed to take an active part in the whole proceedings. She kept up a running fire of comments.

‘There’s Mr. Wheeler; why, he’s getting quite old. And the sergeant-major,[223] he’s gray; why do they keep him so long, father? He must be past his work before this. And Colonel Diggle—is he a good colonel, father? I don’t think so. Well, as you say, perhaps I’m not a judge of colonels, but I am of gentlemen, and I don’t call him a gentleman—not a real gentleman—do you?’

‘My dear,’ the general said reprovingly, ‘you are a little too fast. Please remember—’

‘He’s not a gentleman according to my ideas. There are lots of better gentlemen in the ranks—why,’ almost with a shriek, ‘there’s my friend the learned pig—I mean the learned orderly. And, father, look! do look! They’ve made him a colour-sergeant—already!’

But her father was not attending.

‘Be good enough to form open column,[224] pile arms, and lay out kits,’ he was saying to Colonel Diggle, which man?uvre satisfactorily carried out, the general continued his inspection on foot, accompanied by his daughter, who tripped along, holding up her habit, nodding to old friends as she went along, and so deeply interested in holdalls, tins of blacking, and pairs of socks, that you might have thought kit inspection was the one joy of her life.

‘I am very glad to see you’ve got on so quickly,’ she said gravely to young Colour-Sergeant Larkins, as she touched him on the arm with her whip by way of emphasis. ‘You promised well, and I am pleased to think I was not disappointed,’ went on the young personage, with the air of a queen-regnant reviewing her troops.

It was a gracious sight, and one no man—an impressionable young sergeant like[225] Larkins least of all—was likely to forget. The trim figure in its snow-white habit, the pretty bright face and its framework of light curls, surmounted with a coquettish little white hat; the air with which she pointed with her whip to his chevrons and the bright colours surmounting them, as she tripped daintily along. Never before or afterwards did Edith Prioleau seem more bewitching, and Herbert Larkins felt that he could lay down his life for her then and there.

Perhaps he talked a little more about her than he need have done when he next visited the cottage near the Moorish Castle. The Larkins’ house had come to be quite his home, and he went there whenever he was off duty and could spare time. Life upon the Rock was a little monotonous for all below the rank of officer, and Herbert[226] was thankful that he had friends in the place. The narrow limits of the fortress, beyond which none but the commissioned may pass except on rare occasions, and then only by special permission, forbade any great variety of amusement or much change of scene. The rank and file rung the changes upon guard-house and drinking shop; when the first was done with for a time they identified themselves with the other. After twenty-four hours on Ragged Staff or New Mole, at Landport, Waterport, or the North Front, there was an especial sweetness for the soldier in ‘black strap’ or ‘partridge eye’—variations of the local wine; while for the fireproof head which craved for the strongest stimulants, there was the aguardiente, or burning water, a title this engaging but curiously potent liquid richly deserved. For the sergeants,[227] in whom steadiness and sobriety were indispensable traits, these delights were forbidden, and they had but little relaxation after they had completed their day’s routine, including the preparation of small returns, the responsibilities of minor commands, beyond a stroll upon the Alameda when the band played, or the perusal of the newspapers in the mess.

Herbert was more fortunate. Fond of books, Major Greathed supplied him with plenty, mainly of professional character, for although still in subordinate grades, soldiering was becoming more and more to our hero’s taste, and he was eager to qualify for higher charges should it ever be his good fortune to rise. But it was greater pleasure to him still to talk at the cottage over what he had read; to pour forth to his mother, as he still called her, his ambitious[228] yearnings, to express with ............