“You must mind and work hard for your probationary,” said Hostler. “You’ll find you’ve plenty to do; and it’s no child’s play, I can tell you.”

I thanked, him for his advice, and remarked that, having passed my first examination, I hoped I should not break down at the next.

I only once again entered Mr Hostler’s establishment from that day, but the remembrance of the misery I endured there, of the false system of teaching (or rather cramming, for he did not teach) he adopted in his school, of the whalebone and cane arguments he used to convince boys of the advantages of learning their Euclid, is still fresh in my memory; and even now the worst nightmare I can suffer from, is that I am again a boy at Hostler’s, and have failed in my Euclid.

One of the greatest defects at the Academy in former times was the impossibility of ever being alone. We were usually four in each barrack-room; we were marched about by squads, divisions, or classes; we dined, breakfasted, and had tea at squads; we were in classes from thirty to forty for study. At night we could never be alone; the snoring or turning of another cadet in the room disturbed one. Now there are some natures so affected by external influences that they are never thoroughly themselves unless they are entirely alone. Such individuals are never known in their real characters, for before others they are unconsciously actors. Men who appear idlers before the world, mere loungers on society, are not unusually when alone the deepest thinkers or the hardest workers; and to such, solitude is an essential. To many, therefore, especially to those who wished to work hard, it was a great drawback being penned up night and day with companions whose tastes not unfrequently were anything but congenial.

In spite of the hard life I led at the Academy, and the amount of fagging and bullying I had to go through, the time passed quickly; there was a novelty in everything, which was very attractive. As I advanced in my drill, and joined the squad of other “last-joined,” there was a secret pleasure in feeling I was a soldier, that a splendid career was open before me if I could only manage to pass my examinations, and that when I became an officer my career might be most favourable. I made but little progress, however, in my studies; the hard work I had gone through in order to pass, and the varied scenes and events I was daily passing through, gave me a kind of mental indigestion, and I found it very hard work to learn. Although I had passed into the Academy, I could not get over the idea that it was to a certain extent a bit of good luck that I had done so, and I believed I was somehow less gifted with a capacity for learning mathematics than were other boys, and I began to have doubts and fears whether I should pass my probationary examination, especially considering the impossibility there was in working out of academy hours.

I had, after the first two months, got accustomed, to a great extent, to the fagging and bullying. Snipson still continued my greatest tormentor, and had it not have been for him I should not have led so hard a life as I did, for Holms was often very kind, and gave me hints as to what I ought to do under various circumstances. He used also to stop Snipson from bullying me whenever he found him doing so. I consequently looked on Holms as a great friend, and should probably have passed my half-year tolerably had not a circumstance happened which considerably affected my comfort and deprived me of the society and protection of Holms.

It happened that Snipson had great difficulty in getting out of the second academy, as he was very bad in mathematics. In order, therefore, that he might work of a night, he asked Holms if he would allow him to keep up lights. I was not aware at the time I heard this request made by Snipson, and agreed to by Holms, of the risk the latter ran of severe punishment in case of detection; but as it was agreed to, that lights were to be kept up, I was called upon to assist at the preparatory arrangements.

Between the outside window and the room in which I lived there were iron bars arranged in diamond-shape; between these and the window there was a space of a few inches; between these bars a regimental cloak was carefully drawn and so spread out that from the inside of the room no ray of light could be seen coming through any little chink left by the cloak not being properly arranged. To fill up this space in a satisfactory manner four cloaks were required, which, having been placed between the window and the bars, a careful inspection was made, and matters being considered satisfactory, candles were lighted, the door locked, and Snipson commenced his studies.

Holms had gone to bed soon after the cloaks were arranged, but Snipson made me sit up, as he said he should require me to help take down the cloaks when he was tired of working; so I sat up and tried to read, but my eyes gradually closed, and more than once I fell asleep. Snipson, however, took care to wake me by tapping me on the head with a book, and thus we passed the time till about twelve o’clock.

It happened that, on the particular night in question, the officer on duty had been dining at mess, and, on returning to his quarters in the Academy, saw a slight speck of light coming from the window of our room, where a flaw had occurred by one of the cloaks slightly slipping. On coming close to the window he found that lights were being kept up, and that he had discovered the delinquents. From the officers’ quarters to those of the cadets there was a passage which might be passed through of a night. By this passage the officer entered the division, and came to our door, which he tried, and found fastened.