“This way!”
Chapter Sixteen.
“You meant it, then?”
For one moment Richard flinched, and thought of making a run for it; the next he was following the man.
“Why not?” he muttered. “I may as well, if they want me to. Why not play for my living now?”
The next minute, with the feeling of shrinking gone, he was standing in the mess-room, in one corner of which, partially hidden by a screen and some palms, was the band, while close to him, leaning back in his chair, was a fine, florid-looking, grey officer, evidently the colonel or major of the regiment, while the rest of the officers had resumed their places, and the dinner was going on.
“Well, sir,” said the elderly, florid officer, with assumed sternness, as he fixed the lad with his keen grey eyes, “what have you to say for yourself? How are you come here and interrupt the most brilliant player in my band?”
There was a roar of laughter from all present, and Richard was conscious of a sharp face belonging to a bandsman peering between the palm-leaves.