This contingency, however, did not happen, for within a minute or so he and the two boys were out on the parade; the party being further increased by the presence of Rover, who had been lurking in the passage and followed them out unobserved. Not a bark or a gambol betrayed that he was after them, until the Captain on turning round suddenly saw him in their rear, close up to Bob’s heels.
“Hullo!” he exclaimed; “I can’t have that dog with us. Rover is a very fine fellow and a brave animal too; but, he’s somewhat skittish as yesterday’s proceedings at the railway-station showed me. I don’t want to get into any more scrapes with him, such as knocking down harmless old women—she was a tartar, though, by Jove! Besides, I may have to go into the dockyard, and they do not allow dogs in there.”
“Don’t they?” asked Bob, catching hold of Rover’s collar and preparing to take him back to the house. “Not even if they’re well-behaved?”
“No, my boy, they draw the line at puppies! I mean those jackanapes of midshipmen and sub-lieutenants, as they call mates now, with their dandified airs. In my time, the reefers weren’t half so conceited and didn’t try to turn themselves into land swabs as they do now-a-days,” said the Captain grimly, he being, like most sailors of the old school, a thorough believer in the times gone by. “But, go back now, and take that rascal of a dog in. Dick and I will wait for you at the corner.”
Rover did not like this arrangement at all, but he had to submit to the force of circumstances; so, Bob disposing of him within doors and closing the outside gate as well for additional precaution, all presently made a fresh start for their destination.
While crossing Southsea Common, the boys were delighted with the sight of the soldiers of the garrison mustered for brigade drill, the troops marching and wheeling and countermarching to the music of the bands, which played such inspiriting airs that even the old Captain could not help keeping step, his trusty malacca coming down with a thump on the springy turf, in time with the rub-a-dub-dub of the drums.
Bob had seen a regiment or two before in London, at parades in front of the Horse Guards, or when reviewed on a small scale in Hyde Park; but, never previously, had he witnessed so many battalions marshalled together in all the pomp of war as now—the men formed up in double columns of companies, with the sunlight glinting on the bayonets of their sloped rifles and their legs looking like those of gigantic centipedes as they stepped forward in changing ground to the left, first the red stripe showing on one trouser-leg and then only the dark cloth of the other.
“How funny they look!” exclaimed Bob, lost in admiration as he took note of these little details, not a thing escaping him, the hoarse commands of the officers, the galloping to and fro of mounted aides-de-camp and ‘orderlies,’ the tooting bugle-calls, each in turn attracting his attention. “All move as if they were one man!”
“Aye, they march well, my boy,” replied the Captain, taking advantage of the opportunity to point a moral lesson. “But, recollect it’s all owing to discipline and obedience to orders!”
Beyond the troops, the blue sea could be seen reflecting the hue of the cloudless sky overhead, its surface dotted here and there with the white sail of some yacht or other, passing between Cowes and Spithead, or beating out into the Channel in the distance; while, in the more immediate foreground, anchored abreast of one of the harbour forts, was a modern ironclad man-of-war.