He was still debating the point as the relief marched away, when all doubts were set at rest by hearing a very young lady, a child, in fact (it was Edith Prioleau), say laughingly, and with the accents of Stratford-le-Bow, as she touched the corporal on the arm with her fan,
‘En bien, Caporal Larkins, comment vous portez-vous?’
To which the corporal replied, with a smile,
‘Très bien, mademoiselle. Et vous?’
There could be no mistake. Look, name, voice, all were the same. What a curious fatality! In the same regiment as his son—the true heir and the false serving side by side. Should he tell Ernest? Then Sir Rupert, pondering much, came to the conclusion that it would be best to keep his own counsel, but resolved to put, if possible, a watch upon the young man.
[CHAPTER X.]
MUTINY IN THE RANKS.
There was great grief in the Duke’s Own. Colonel Prioleau was about to leave the regiment. He had commanded it for a number of years, and would have liked to have gone on commanding it to the end of the chapter, but promotion to the rank of general was fast approaching him, and he felt that he must ‘realise’ at least a part of his cash. Colonels of regiments in old days served for about tenpence a-day. The rest of their pay barely represented the interest upon the capital sum they had sunk in purchasing their rank. By exchanging to half-pay before promotion, a regimental lieutenant-colonel was able to pull a few thousands out of the fire; and this Colonel Prioleau did.
There was great grief in the regiment at his approaching retirement. It was not so much on account of his personal qualities, although these—more particularly his easy-going laissez aller system—had long gained him great popularity, but because the command was to pass into the hands of one who was not, as the saying is, a ‘Duke’s Own man.’ Major Byfield had exchanged into the corps some few years previously, very much against the will of the regiment. Not that there was anything against him. Appearances were indeed in his favour. He was a quiet gentlemanly little person, with that slightly apologetic manner, and hesitating air, which often earn a man appreciation from his fellows, because they indicate a tacit acknowledgment of his inferiority. Major Byfield showed himself still more nervous and undecided on joining the Duke’s Own. Although as a field officer his position was assured, and entitled him to considerable deference from all, he seldom claimed it or asserted himself more than he could help. His brother officers tolerated him, and were civil to him when they saw him, which was not often; but they yielded him no respect, and suffered him to interfere very little in the discipline and management of the corps. What could he know about the Duke’s Own, or its regimental ‘system?’ He had come from the 130th which, it was well known, had a very different ‘system,’ although both were, in fact, ruled by the Queen’s Regulations, and should have been governed on precisely the same lines. There is a good deal of mystery made and much stress laid upon the ‘system’ in force in a regiment. No doubt in many minor details there is a marked difference, but the broad outlines are, or ought to be, the same. But it is a favourite dogma, especially with officers in whom esprit de corps is strong, that no one can understand this system unless he has been trained in a regiment and assimilated it with his earliest ideas. So when the major spoke even in a whisper, or made the faintest hint of a suggestion, he was pooh-poohed and put down. Diggle, his fellow, although junior field officer, quietly said that it was all nonsense, that Byfield misunderstood the situation, that he had better wait till he had longer experience in the regiment before he presumed to put forward his views.