The three were standing in a group by themselves, and Herbert’s busy and skilful pencil was rapidly sketching outlines of the mountains and views of the harbour as they successively presented themselves, with the new and curious forms of the boats and vessels around them.

‘I envy you that talent, Herbert,’ said Dalton; ‘how valuable it would be to me, who feel that I shall so lack occupation that the time will often hang heavy on my hands; and how gratifying to those we love to send them even scraps of scenes in which we live and move!’

‘Nay, Philip, you have never tried to use your pencil; I would have given you fifty lessons while we have been on board, but you have never expressed the wish. Here is Charles, who is already a tolerable proficient, and who sketches with most meritorious perseverance.’

‘It is well for him, Herbert; it will help to keep him from vicious and corrupt society, and on his return to our dear England, you will both have the pleasure of comparing your graphic notes, and talking over these beautiful scenes together. But with me it is different: I feel even now that yonder glorious land will be my grave, that the name of Philip Dalton will live only for a while, and that some fatal shot or deadly fever will free me from this earthly existence.’

‘Nonsense, Philip!’ cried both at once; ‘why should you be so gloomy amidst so bright and joyous a scene? As for me,’ continued Balfour, ‘I intend to defy bullet-shots and jungle-fevers, to become a major or a colonel at least, to serve my time out here, and then go home and marry some one. I don’t intend to get bilious or brown or ugly, but to keep my own tolerable looks for ten years at all events. That bright land is an earnest to me of success; and as it now smiles upon us a hearty welcome, so do I feel my spirits rise within me proportionately. Why should I forbid them?’

‘Ay, why should you, Charles?’ said Dalton; ‘I would that mine were as light as yours, but they are not so, nor ever have been; and I am thankful too for this, for I have been led to think more deeply of serious matters than I otherwise should have done, and thus in some degree to prepare for the change which must soon come to me. Your career will, I hope, be very different, and I trust that your own bright hopes will be fulfilled; but remember, that though the sky and land are bright and fair, fairer than our England, yet death strikes many more of our race here than there, and that we have to encounter dangers in the field—active and brave enemies—so that we had need to be prepared whenever the blow comes, either by a shot upon the battle-field, or by the slower but equally fatal disease. Is it not so, Herbert?’

‘It is, Philip; and yet I would not allow, were I you, such dismal phantasies and thoughts to possess me. Surely, when God has thrown around us such beauties as these, our hearts should bid us rejoice, and enjoy them as they are sent, and we ought not to think gloomily upon the future, which may lead us insensibly into discontent and repining. Let us only continue this our unreserved and sincere friendship, whatever may be our position, and I feel confident that we possess in it the elements of much happiness, perhaps of mutual assistance in many difficulties.’

‘With all my heart and soul I promise it, Herbert,’ cried Dalton, and he was followed with equal enthusiasm by Balfour. ‘There will arise many adverse parties in the regiment, I foresee, but we need know none; singly, we might be obliged to belong to one or other—united, we may be thought singular, but we are safe, and I for one am ready to brave all obloquy on this score in your society.’

‘Then we are agreed, Philip,’ said Herbert; ‘if it be possible we will live together; it will take some time perhaps to arrange this, but if it can be done, are you willing?’

‘Perfectly.’