“I hope we may soon be sent on service,” said he, exultingly.
“You may have service sooner than you dream of,” said Inverawe, going on to gather the remainder of the contents of his packet. “Grant writes me here, that in consequence of the turn which matters are taking in America, he hopes every day for the arrival of an order for the regiment to embark. George, you and I must lose no time in making up our kitts, for we must join the corps with all manner of expedition.”
The parting between Inverawe and his lady was tender and touching. Donald bid his father farewell with less appearance of regret than his known affection for him would have led any one to have anticipated. There was even a certain smile of triumph on his countenance as he saw them depart. But his mother was too much overwhelmed by her own feelings, to notice any thing regarding those of her son.
The meeting between Inverawe and his old brother officers was naturally a joyous one, and nothing could be more delightful than the warmth of the reception he met with from his long-tried friend Colonel Grant, now the commanding-officer of the corps.
“My dear fellow, Inverawe!” said he, cordially shaking him by the hand, “This happy circumstance of having got you amongst us again, is even more gratifying to me than my own promotion, and yet, let me tell you, the peculiar circumstances attending that were gratifying enough.”
“I need not assure you that the news of it were most gratifying to me,” replied Inverawe. “It doubled the happiness I felt, in getting the majority, to find that I was to serve under so old and so much valued a friend. But to what particular circumstances do you allude?”
“When the step was opened to me, by the promotion of Colonel Campbell to the command of the fifty-fourth regiment,” replied Colonel Grant, in a trembling voice, and with the tears beginning to swell in his eyes, “I was not a little surprised, and, as you will readily believe, pleased also, to be waited on by a deputation from the non-commissioned officers and privates of the corps, to make offer to me of a purse containing the sum necessary to purchase the lieutenant-colonelcy, which they had subscribed among themselves, and proposed to present to me, with the selfish view, as the noble fellows declared to me, of securing to themselves as commanding-officer a man whom they all so much loved and respected! Campbell!—Inverawe!” continued he, with his voice faultering still more from the swelling of his emotions, “I can never forget this, were I to live to the age of Methuselah—I can never deserve it all—but—but—phsaw! my heart is too full to give utterance to my feelings—and I must e’en play the woman.”
“Noble fellows indeed!” cried Inverawe, fully sympathizing with him in all he felt; “but by my faith they looked at the matter in its true light, when moved by selfish considerations, they were led so to act—for they well knew that you would be as a father to them.”
“I shall ever be as a father to them whilst it pleases God to spare me,” said the Colonel warmly, “and if ever I desert them while life remains, may I be blown from the mouth of a cannon!”
“What was the result of this matter then?” demanded Inverawe.