“Well, some message came down from the castle, that’s all I know of, but they’re rigging up the platform on the square, so it looks like some show or other.”
Phil groaned dismally, and went to his barrack-room to smarten himself up, hoping that this new “show” could have nothing to do with himself.
But he was disappointed. The whole battalion fell in, carrying the colours, and having been duly formed up in review order and inspected, they stood at ease, wondering what was coming, and looking with curious eyes at the group of privileged sightseers who had already assembled, and at the red-carpeted platform which had been placed on the opposite side of the square.
Suddenly a movement was noticed amidst the crowd outside the gates; they opened up, and a minute later two royal carriages swept in past the guard-room.
All eyes were turned towards them, till a hoarse “Battalion, attention. Royal salute. Present arms!” was given by the colonel, and as one man the regiment went through the movement, colours and officers’ swords dropped simultaneously, and a royal personage, dressed in full uniform, was driven up to the centre, where, the carriage having stopped, he descended, and returned the salute.
Then followed a minute inspection, during which Phil’s heart beat tumultuously against his ribs. Afterwards, with colours in air and the band playing, the regiment marched past in column—a sight worth going many miles to see—and finally drew up in quarter column and faced inwards towards the platform.
“Corporal Western!” the colonel cried.
Phil started and flushed crimson. Then, recovering his composure, he stepped from the ranks, and, marching forward, halted a few paces in front of the platform.
“Officers, non-commissioned officers, and men,” commenced the royal personage who had reviewed them, stepping forward, “it has given me great pleasure to come here to-day and witness the fine way in which you have marched, and the smart, soldierly appearance you present. You have fully upheld the traditions of the regiment to which you belong. I have now another pleasant duty. One of your number performed a gallant act yesterday. He was then a private, and is now a corporal. He has won his promotion by bravery, as every soldier desires to do, and as a mark of the Queen’s gratitude for saving the life of a distinguished guest, and in order that he may never forget this day, I now present Corporal Western with this watch and chain, and I feel sure he will always prize it. It comes from his Queen. May it one day be carried in the fob of an officer!”
Bewildered, and scarcely knowing whether he stood on his head or his heels, Phil took the watch handed to him and returned to the ranks. In a dream he heard the regiment answer the colonel’s call for cheers as the royal officer stepped into his carriage, and in the same condition he stood, whilst his comrades tore off their bearskins, and, hoisting them on their bayonets, shouted cheers at him for his gallantry.