Indeed, Mostyn admitted that he was happier in the Soudan than he had been in England.
He had fluttered the dovecots of the West End with tolerable success, and might have 'bagged an heiress,' as he phrased it; but high stakes at his club, bets on every possible thing; a bad book on the Derby, ditto on the Oaks; unpaid accounts—St. John's Wood and 'going to the devil on all fours,' marred his chances; then his gouty old governor had come down upon him with his 'cut-you-off-with-a-shilling face;' and Dick thought he was well out of all his troubles, and had only the Arabs to face in the Soudan.
Next day the regiment was inspected and highly complimented by Lord Wolseley, as 'the first to come up with the boats,' adding, 'I know you will do credit to the county you are named after and to the character you have won. I am proud to have such a battalion on service with me.'
This ceremony was scarcely over and the soldiers' dinner drum been beaten as a summons once more to bully-beef and hard biscuits, when a few boats brought up a detachment that marched at once into camp, where crowds gathered round them, as newcomers, to hear the last news from the rear, as letters were becoming scarce and newspapers just then still more so.
A tall officer who was in command, with his canvas haversack, water-bottle, revolver-case, and jack-knife dangling about him, and whose new fighting suit of gray contrasted with the tattered attire of Roland and others, came towards them with impatient strides.
CHAPTER L.
THE START FOR KHARTOUM.
'Elliot, can this be Jack Elliot?' exclaimed Dick Mostyn as he screwed an eyeglass into his left eye. 'By Jove, he looks as if he had a bad toothache! What's up, Jack—lost your heart to some fair Cairene on the Shoubrah road—eh?'
'Jack Elliot it is!' said Roland, as the officer in question, after 'handing over' his detachment, made his way to the quarters of the South Staffordshire, 'you are just in time to go up the river with us. We are on the eve of starting for Khartoum.'
'At last!'