“As Hamlet’s ghost said when he was takin’ a night-walk to cool his-self,” interposed Simkin.
“It wasna his ghost; it was his faither’s ghost,” cried Sutherland; “an’ I’m no’ sure that—”
“Howld yer tongues, both o’ ye!” cried Flynn; “sure the loss o’ yer helmets is beginning to tell on yer heads already. What can the line be I see in the distance over there? I do belaive it’s another o’ thim broad rivers that seem to cut up this land all into stripes.”
“Why, it’s the canal, man,” cried Moses Pyne, who was more or less enthusiastic about all the sights and scenes they were passing. “Don’t ye see the ships?”
“Sure enough, you’re right, Moses, as ye ginerally are whin you’re not wrong. There’s some ships comin’ wan way, an’ some goin’ the other. Och! but he is a great jainius that Frenchman as tied the two says togither—Lips—Lisps—what is it they calls him? I’ve clane forgot.”
“Lesseps,” said Miles, as he gazed with unusual interest on this wonderful highway of nations.
The troops reached Suez after a ten hours’ journey, the distance being about 230 miles. Our hero made the acquaintance here of a private of marines named Stevenson, with whom he afterwards served in the Soudan, and with whom he became very friendly, not only because their spirits were sympathetic, but because, having been brought up in the same part of England, they had similar memories and associations in regard to “home.” Only those who have wandered long and far from their native land can understand the attractive influence that arises between men who meet abroad, and find that they can chat about the same places and persons in the “old country.”
It was Saturday when the troops arrived at Suez, and the heavy dew that fell rendered the night bitterly cold, and felt to be so all the more because of the intense heat of the day. Sunday began with “rousing out” at six, breakfast at seven, parade at eight, and “divine service” thereafter. As there was no clergyman at the place at the time, the duty was performed by one of the officers. Doubtless among the officers there are men who not only can “read prayers” well, but who have the spirit of prayer in them. That such, however, is not always the case may be gathered from the remark of one of the men upon this occasion.
“W’y, you know, Tom,” said this rather severe critic to his comrade confidentially, “there’s one advantage in fast readin’, that it gets the business soon over, which is some sort o’ comfort to fellows that has got to attend whether they like it or not, hot or cold, fresh or tired, unless dooty prevents. But the hofficer that did dooty to-day seemed to me to ’ave made a wager to read the prayers against time, an’ that can do no good at all to any one, you know. Far better, in my opinion, to ’ave no service at all. No wonder men won’t listen. Why, it’s a mockery—that’s what it is.”
A walk round Suez with Armstrong and Stevenson till tattoo at 9:30 finished the day, and convinced Miles and his friends that the sooner they bade adieu to that place the better for all of them.