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VC -- A Chronicle of Castle Barfield and of the Crimea

Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 3588    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

-there were still certain things to learn, and the button stick, and the flat and chain burnish, and the pots of chrome yellow, and blacking, and pipeclay, were just as strang

unious Irish nobleman, who enlisted on the same day wit

hop together with a hurried

y pulled on his trous

said he, 'of m

said Polson, 'and you have a

g in that which makes either a man or a sweep of the commander. Polson was all alert, eager to teach what he knew to the slow and loutish squad before him; but on that first morning of his wearing the Queen's cloth, keen as he was upon his own business, he could

ons, and with a lustrous silk hat cocked over one eyebrow, was his father. John Jervase came into barracks, as he had gone everywhere throughout his life, with a magnificent i

to Colonel Stacey, and Colonel Stacey was

t a hundred people to his net, 'that the regiment has its marching orders, and I can quit

' said the Colonel. 'The re

d in the army, and it's been his hope also. We've had a quarrel, sir, and I don't mind confessing that it is my fault. The lad's a good lad.' His voice began to tremble. 'But he's throwing his life away for a freak. I've bo

nd struck a blow upon the door, which wa

ed into the examination of a heap of papers which lay before him. Jervase nursed his silk hat in both hands and waited, listening t

lf; and the minutes went slowly by until Colonel Stacey's batman

, gathering his papers in his hand

tter upon the table, 'is a notice from the London agents that his commission is bought and paid for. There's my cheque for a thousand pounds, and if that isn't good enou

son to the father, and bac

e that this is much of an affair of mine. I

italist, driver of men, was not in the least like himself that morning, and his hands trembled s

thy or forgiveness. 'Look here, Polly, I've had about a week of it, and I can't stand it any longer.

id figure in front of him. Pol-son stared out of t

e in the Black Sea. I've made a deposit with Stubbs, his lawyer, of no less than fifty thousand pounds, my lad. That's been a shake, I tell you. I've had a good deal o' trouble to raise

ll Polson stood like a s

credit, so that come what may he isn't likely to suffer. If De Blaequaire carries the case on when h

as doom. To the father's eye he had never looked so manly and handsome as he did at this moment, and what with fatherly

your papers, to have your commission, and go out like a gentleman. I've brought a portmanteau with me in the carriage, with everything you'll actua

nely moved: but the boy still stood there, stari

e right, my lad, but it wasn't so much my fault as you might fancy. There was a leak between that mine of old General Airey's and your Uncle James's when I went into partnership

silence for the first time. 'It's bad enough as

give me. Now there's two thousand pound on this here table, and there's the letter from your agents; and

on was profoundly sorry for him; but there was a sick whirl in the lad's mind which robbed him of any clear power of thought and seemed indeed to deaden feeling itself. Only he knew

son with what I am now, I said to myself, "I'll make my lad a gentleman." I sent you to Rugby, and I sent you to Oxford, and I never stinted

see that you make things worse with every word you speak? Isn't it enough for me to

olly. You can't deny me! You're a-going out to the war, Polly, and you might never come back again. And think of me-think of your poor old father sittin' at home, and sayin' to himself, "I sent my son away with a broken heart and ashamed of his own father, and he wouldn't touch my hand before he went to his own death, and he wouldn't say one forgiving word to me, and I murdered him, and I b

ithin half an hour the regiment would be on the march, and already the red-coated, brass-helmeted men, shining from hea

he wet eyes and the breaking voice, 'it's take it or leave it. There's

son, 'that you're making it

in a different humour, Polly. Here's your agent's letter. Are you a-going to take your commission, and fight in a gentlem

as I am,'

the commission chucked into the gutter. Now here's a cheque for a thousand pound as

Polson, 'to have any

ere's the commission chucked, and there's the check too dirty for you to look at.

'I shall have no want of

he dared, but he feared the loss of his own manhood if he once began to pardon, and perhaps he was severer to himself than to the old man who begged for his forgiveness. 'There's the 'and,' said Jervase, weeping openly. 'He won't touch that. There's the commission only waiting for him to sign, and he won't touch that. There's a cheque for a thousand pound as would send him to

iberately tore it into pieces. He took up his own cheque and tore that into pieces also. He patted the pile of notes together and p

the barrack gate, and formed up in a solid cube. There was a crowd outside in the streets, and from it rose a noise of cheering. There was silence in the room except for those child-like, unrestrained sobs which shook John Jervase; and even these quiet

Jervase, or are you to be le

nswered. 'But I hope that I may get m

el, 'and another ship follows that da

Polson, and the Colon

the bright bay with the three white stockings, and cantered to the front. The hoarse, commanding voice pealed out the word, the band crashed into a new marching tune, and the regiment began to move forward, like a

and feel as you're an honest man all the same. And Polly, if you're going out as a private soldier you'll want money. It isn't as if an untravelled man was talkin' to you. I know the

,' said Polson, 'or I s

lean money. I'll swear it on my Bibl

ok his son by both s

Polly, look

stening,

me dead. Outside that salt mine, I've been an honest man. You won't believe it, but I have. I saw a chance of making money elsewhere, and I wanted a start, and

all to be ashamed of? I've done one; and I've been bowled out at it! There's men that does hundreds, Polly, and are never bowled out at all! I'll tell you what. It ain't me having been dishonourable as stands between us. It's your own pride, Polly. It's a good pride. It's wh

, and struck his own clenched fist upon his breast three several times. Then he tur

you're a father, with your only son a-going to the wars without a penny in his pocket, and hating you too much to take what you can give him. Then you'll feel what

y hand and wrung it h

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