"Killed in the rifle-pits while he was potting the Russians. There's hardly anybody left that was here when you was here sir, 'cept some of us men. You going home, sir?"
"As quick as I can, Jones. Here's a guinea for old times' sake. Good-bye!" And he went soberly on, feeling himself a stranger in a strange place and as one risen from the dead.
They got a lift on the railway, and Jim hardly knew Balaclava, so little of the old was left--just as in the camp up above. But he tumbled up against Captain Jolly almost at once, and then his difficulties were over.
"Take you?" cried the jovial master. "Take you all the way home if you like. My charter's up and I'm to get back as quick as the weather'll let me. Taking a cargo of broken pieces to Scutari, and then straight for Liverpool. Right! We'll find room for you all if we have to sleep in the bilge. Your servant, madam, and yours, miss! Glad to get away from all the noise and nastiness, I'll be bound. Come on board any time you like, Mr. Carron. Shipboard's a sight cleaner and more comfortable than any place you'll find ashore." And Jim felt happier than he had done for very many months back.
[CHAPTER LXVIII]
HOME AGAIN
D. McLean snatched half an hour to say good-bye as they were weighing anchor. And among other things he happened to ask Jim:
"Have you sent word home that you're coming? I don't believe in surprises."
"No, I haven't. I'm only learning to write, you see."
"Tell me what you want to say and I'll telegraph it from here."