"Sir, those who have undergone such years as I have, frequently do so."
In truth, I looked older than my age. My figure was tall, well formed and developed, while my face had a matured expression, and somewhat resolute aspect, especially about the eyes. Colonel Preston, though a stern man, and a strict disciplinarian, felt a deep interest and pride in his regiment, and thus he narrowly examined every recruit before passing him into the ranks, and every man's name and character there, were graven on his memory.
"I like both your spirit and bearing, boy," said he. "Sixty years ago, I was a poor and penniless lad, so I e'en became a private trooper in the Scots Greys, and behold me now! I am Lieutenant-Colonel of the regiment, and hope, please God, to die a General, and go to my grave under a salute of cannon. Ere long, my lads," he continued to me, and several other recruits, who had just been ushered into the Orderly room, "we must all be in France or Germany, and there we shall find what the fortune of war has in store for us. Remember that the sword of a brave man is always sharp, but that of a coward for ever wants grinding! Stand by me, my lads, and I shall never fail you, and in me you see a living example of the reward that may await sobriety, steadiness, and a strict obedience to orders. Put Basil Gauntlet into Captain Lindsay's troop; attach the rest to Captain Cunninghame's. The tailor and the roughrider will soon make dragoons of them all."
I was conducted to my billet. Fortunately it was in the same tavern where Kirkton and Charters were quartered, and with them I shared the first instalment of my pay, which at that time was small enough, when a cornet had but a half-crown per diem, and a lieutenant-colonel of Dragoons only eight shillings and six-pence!
My bounty-money was soon dissipated, for under pretence of fraternising with me, or teaching me many matters that might be useful, several of those rogues who are usually known in barracks as "old soldiers," or "knowing ones," stuck close to me and to the other recruits, so long as our cash lasted.
The next day saw me arrayed in full uniform. The largest mirror in the tavern (it measured only six inches each way) by no means afforded me sufficient scope for the admiration of my own person in this new attire; though I could view it, when reflected at full length, in the shop-windows, while passing along the streets, into which I at once issued, as Kirkton said, "to exhibit my war-paint."
In those days—this was in the year before we fought at Minden—the Greys wore double-breasted scarlet coats, lined with blue, having slit sleeves; long slashed pockets were in each skirt, and a white worsted aiguilette dangled from the right shoulder. We wore long jack-boots, and tall grenadier caps, with the Scottish Thistle and circle of St. Andrew in front. Our cloaks were scarlet lined with blue shalloon, and in front they had rows of large flat buttons set two and two, on white frogs, or loops of braid. On our collars we wore a grenade in memory that at its formation, a portion of the regiment had been armed with that formidable weapon, the same as the Scots Horse Grenadier Guards.
Everywhere the proud motto of the corps met my eye; on the standards and kettledrums, on our caps, carbines, and pistol-barrels, and on the blades of our long straight broadswords, I read the words—
SECOND TO NONE!
That short sentence seemed full of haughty spirit; it gave me a new life, and fired my heart with lofty inspirations. I repeated it, dreamed and pondered over it, and as our departure for the seat of war was daily looked for, I longed for active service, and for the peril and adventure ever consequent thereto.