“Yes, sir, of course,” I said confusedly.

“But that’s all right, my boy. Your father authorised me in his last letters to see that you had a proper military outfit, and draw upon him; so you need be under no apprehension. You will have to run the colonel up a pretty good bill; so be careful not to get superfluous things. By the way, there’s a letter for you. Have you got it?”

“No, sir,” I said; “I’ve been in my room. I’ll go and—”

“No, no; sit still,” said the general, ringing. “I’ll have it brought here.”

He told the servant to fetch the letter, and sat chatting pleasantly till the man returned with an old-fashioned-looking missive, ornamented with a great red seal.

“From my uncle, sir!” I said excitedly.

“Well, open and read it, boy. It may be more news.”

I opened the letter with trembling fingers, and read as follows:—

“119, Queen’s Square,—

“May 8th, 18—.

“Dear Nephew,—

“I hear that you have your commission. I stirred up some old friends. You go out with the next draft. Be a good boy, act like a gentleman, and keep up the honour of your family. You’ll find it very hot. I did when I was out there. Don’t eat too much, and don’t drink, or you’ll come home with a bad liver, like your affectionate uncle,

“Joseph Vincent.

“Gilbert Vincent, Esq.

“P.S.—I mean Lieutenant Vincent. Don’t come to see me, for I’m off to-night to Carlsbad to drink rusty waters instead of port. Remember me to your father and mother, if you meet them, and Miss Grace. By the way, boy, you’ll want some clothes and a sword. I’ve told Ferries and Harquars to honour your cheques up to two hundred and fifty pounds, so that you need not draw on your father. You don’t deserve it, because you have such a bad temper; but if ever you can get promoted into the Horse Artillery, I’ll buy you a horse. Mind and get an Arab; they suit the country. I always rode one; but not in your break-neck way. I tried to get them to let you have a commission in the horse, but they wouldn’t stand it. Said it was a feather in a man’s cap to get that; so look sharp and grow, and make yourself fit to wear that feather. You’ll get it if you deserve it. I’ll see that you do. My postscript is longer than my letter. So with compliments to General Crucie, I am, etc.”

I handed the letter to the general, who read it through and nodded.