Jack paused on the threshold of the door and gazed with interest for the first time at a barrack-room.
CHAPTER V.
A BARRACK-ROOM SQUABBLE.
RANGED on one side of the room were eight iron bedsteads, the bedding being rolled up and strapped round to keep it neat during the daytime. Down the centre of the room, resting on iron trestles, were several long deal boards, scrubbed very white, forming a table; on each side of the table were forms.
The occupants of the room were variously engaged. Two young fellows at one end of the room were engaged in a bout with the boxing-gloves; another was sitting at the table writing a letter; a fourth was engaged burnishing a sword-scabbard, other parts of his kit lying round him; a fifth lad was pipeclaying a pair of gauntlets; while seated at a window, dressed in shirt and overalls only, was the eldest of the party, a short, stout young man, smoking a clay-pipe and talking to a comrade.
Over the beds hung each man’s sword and belts, and on a shelf above these were the lance-caps in their oilskin cases, and the clothes neatly folded, surmounting the sheepskin and the blue shabracks which covered the saddles when the regiment was in review order.
Jack was not long taking in these details; but before he had done so the various occupants of the room had desisted from their occupations and fixed their eyes upon him.
‘Why, it’s Sergeant Barrymore’s pup!’ said the young fellow with the pipe. ‘Come here, kid, and let’s have a look at you.’
This was said in a sneering manner, and Jack took an instinctive dislike to the speaker.
‘Run away from school, or has yer mammy been spanking you?’ he added.
‘Neither,’ said Jack simply. ‘I have become a soldier of my own free will.’