Sir Francis looked at me for a moment, half sadly, with an expression on his face which I scarcely understood. Then he sighed.
"I have brought you news, Hugh," he said slowly.
"News!" I repeated; and then a sudden light flashed in upon me. "Tell me quick," I cried. "You have been with Lord Cannington?"
My grandfather nodded.
"I left him only a quarter of an hour ago, at Whitehall, and came down here as fast as a hansom could bring me. The 17th, 19th, and 21st are ordered out. 'Twill be in to-night's Gazette."
I could have shouted, done any mad thing, in my great joy. But I sat quite still in my chair, grasping its sides, and struggling to conceal my excitement.
"Thank God!" I murmured fervently, "this is what I have prayed for. I am sick of playing at being a soldier, of lounging about here, whilst he—others—were in such mortal peril."
He sat looking at me, nodding his head slowly.
"He! others! Ah, well. But I have more news for you, Hugh. Who do you think is appointed to the colonelcy of the 18th?"
"Utterson? Haigh?"