"No, sir. But—well, I was thinking of the time when I was a youngster—I mean when I was about five years of age. You may have heard my story, sir?"
The Major nodded sympathetically.
"We all knew it," he said gravely. "We believe that you were sent home, and that some rascal had a reason for disposing of you. Some day, never fear, the mystery will be cleared up. Wicked tricks like that fail very often."
"Then I was thinking of that time, and I swear that this town, or a very similar one, is familiar to me. I think I can, very vaguely, remember my mother and father, and certainly I can recollect the house. When I am able to walk I shall search for it."
"Then you will have little time," came the prompt answer, "for soldiers have to put their private business aside, my boy, and you will be no exception. His Majesty and the Honourable Company, otherwise John Company, will require your services. In fact they need them now. You must get well as rapidly as possible."
Owen and Jack both expressed astonishment, for they had heard no rumour of expected or impending trouble. But then they had only been ashore a very few hours.
"The news is old here," said the Major, as he lit a cheroot. "There's war before us, boys, and a fine thing it will be too. It will give you both an insight into Indian character, and will make men and soldiers of you far sooner than would the peace régime, with its drills and manœuvres, its dances and its picnics."
Owen looked somewhat disconsolately down at his leg, and then up at the Major.
"The sergeant told me that war brought a soldier's chance," he said. "Whom are we to fight, Major, and when and where?"