was one thousand and eighty strong, and Bobby belonged to them; for was he not a subaltern of the Line—the whole Line and nothing but the Line—as the tramp of two thousand one hundred and sixty sturdy ammunition boots attested? He would not have changed places with Deighton of the Horse Battery, whirling by in a pillar of cloud to a chorus of "Strong right! Strong left!" or Hogan-Yale of the White Hussars, leading his squadron for all it was worth with the price of horse-shoes thrown in; or "Tick" Boileau, trying to live up to his fierce blue and gold turban, while the wasps of the Bengal Cavalry stretched to a gallop in the wake of the long, lollopping Walers of the White Hussars.
They fought through the clear cool day, and Bobby felt a little thrill run down his spine when he heard the tinkle-tinkle-tinkle of the empty cartridge-cases hopping from the breech-blocks after the roar of the volleys; for he knew that he should live to hear that sound in action. The review ended in a glorious chase across the open. Batteries thundering after Cavalry to the huge disgust of the White Hussars, and the Tyneside Tail Twisters hunting a Sikh Regiment, till the lean, lathy Sikhs panted with exhaustion. Bobby was dusty and dripping long before noon, but his enthusiasm was merely focussed—not diminished.
He returned to sit at the feet of Revere, his "skipper," that is to say, the Captain of his Company, and to be instructed in the dark art and mystery of managing men, which is a very large part of the Profession of Arms.
"If you haven't a gift that way," said Revere between his puffs of his cheroot, "you'll never be able to get the hang of it, but remember, Bobby, 't isn't the best drill, though drill is nearly everything that howks a Regiment through Hell and out on the other side. It's the man who knows how to handle men—goat-men, swine-men, dog-men, and so on."
"Dormer, for instance," said Bobby, "I think he comes under the head of fool-men. He mopes like a sick-owl.'
"That's where you make your mistake, my son. Dormer isn't a fool yet, but he's a dashed, dirty soldier, and his Room
