"Aye, my lad, and when I hung up my sword after nearly fifty years, it broke my heart. I am very old, look at me. I'm ninety-five! I was born in the year of our Lord 1818, when people talked of Waterloo, and Bony was on St. Helena! When I first arrived, a 'Griffin' as they called us then, I met an officer who had known Clive—think of it! He told me, he seemed silent and morose, it was his last spell out here, and he was full of trouble and disappointment—the man who won India!"
"He put an end to himself, did he not?"
"Yes, in his house in Berkeley Square, with a penknife. I've seen great things in my day, but if I related them, people would say I was in my dotage, and I have no witnesses now to bear me out; I just sit here and look out over the plains that never change, and think of all the fine comrades I had, and their lives and deaths, and wonder if we will ever fall in together again? Well, I'll know before long—I may get the route any day! I'm just waiting for death."
Mallender hastened to turn the old man's mind to a more cheerful subject, and said:
"You must have seen a lot of service, sir?"
"Yes," and he touched his medals. "I put these on to do you honour. I only wear 'em Sundays, and Mrs. Beamish she got out her fine brooch. Here, you see, Moodkee—Aliwal—Rangoon—Pegu—and the Mutiny medals, I was all through that," he paused, and looked fixedly before him.
"Yes, I marched up to Delhi, with the first Madras Regiment, and I was in the first Brigade, under McNeil. McNeil was a hard man; hard on himself, as well as others; the forced marches were terrible; and in those days we wore shakos—no pith helmets then! At most of our halts, we had a firing-party, and left a couple or more graves. I served at the Siege of Delhi—I saw Cawnpore, when one hundred and sixty-five women and children were in the well. I—Well, young man, for all our sakes, native and British, those times are best forgotten. Afterwards, I served in Afghanistan, and was recommended for the Cross, but the Brigadier knew I was hard up, and I took a sum of money, and sold my glory, to pay bazaar bills."
"But surely, sir, you have had good appointments?"
"Oh, yes, after a time I had fine billets; but I was always up to my neck in debt, and half my pay went to the soucars. I was like a man in a quicksand, the more I struggled, the deeper I went. Well, now I want to hear from one who has been on the spot, what is going on at head-quarters at home? Tell me about the Army—begad, it's only a handful,—this brand-new Army of the day. I read, and I'm read to, but I want to hear by word of mouth."
The old officer then proceeded to put his companion—who patiently submitted—to a severe, not to say drastic, examination on the subject of the new guns, new regulations, and drill; the uniform, soldiers' kit, the benefit, or otherwise, of Royal Commissions; particulars of the new signalling, and airships. He listened as to a fairy-tale, when Mallender described a field instrument that can tap, or interrupt a telegraph message—as well as telephone!