“You’re welcome, my lad,” said he in the cheeriest voice, “and you are not a day older than I was when I joined, and you are from the old country, too. Well, I wish ’twas in my power to do something for you for your people’s sake and for your own; but, you see, since the new formation of the Irish army of King James in the French service many Irish gentlemen who had served as officers at home in the Williamite wars, have been reduced; some even to the rank of privates, and not a few are in my regiment in that category, and it would be invidious of me were I to put a youth like you above them; but, courage mon camarade, there are stirring times before us, and Dillon’s regiment is sure to be found where the bullets fall thickest and where ranks are thinned, and a gentleman is sure of promotion if he be put beyond caring for it.”
Here the colonel paused for a second, and looking full in my eyes, added, “if he win his spurs.”
I confess I was a little disappointed. I had hoped that, backed up as I was by my family connections and my letters of recommendation, I would have obtained the post of ensign. The colonel doubtless noticed my disappointment.
“You were in camp last night?” he said.
“Yes, colonel.”
“With whom did you stay?”
“In Sergeant O’Kelly’s tent,” I replied.
“Sergeant O’Kelly!” he exclaimed. “By right of service and of valour, since he came to France, he should be captain. He was one in Ireland; he has not grumbled at his reduction.”
I felt the rebuke.
“I shall be glad to serve under him, colonel,” I said.