Tales from Blackwood Volume Ii Part 10

"Say no more. I see that you women are all alike. These confounded scarlet coats"--

"Are remarkably becoming; and really I am not sure that in one of them--if it were particularly well made--you might not look almost as well as Roper."

"I have half a mind to turn postman."

"Not a bad idea for a man of letters. But why don't you hunt?"

"I dislike riding."

"You stupid creature! Edith never will marry you: so you may just as well abandon the idea at once."

So ended my conference with my cousin. I had made it a rule, however, never to believe above one half of what Miss Mary Muggerland said; and, upon the whole, I am inclined to think that was a most liberal allowance of credulity. A young lady is not always the safest depositary of such secrets, or the wisest and most sound adviser. A little spice of spite is usually intermingled with her counsels; and I doubt whether in one case out of ten they sincerely wish success to their simple and confiding clients. On one point, however, I was inclined to think her right. Edith certainly had a decided military bias.

I begin to hold the doctrine that there is more in judicial astrology than most people are inclined to admit. To what other mysterious fount than the stars can we trace that extraordinary principle which regulates men in the choice of their different professions? Take half-a-dozen lads of the same standing and calibre; give them the same education; inculcate them with the same doctrines; teach them the identical catechism; and yet you will find that in this matter of profession there is not the slightest cohesion among them. Had I been born under the influence of Mars, I too might have been a dragoon--as it was, Saturn, my planetary G.o.dfather, had devoted me to the law, and here I stood a discomfited concocter of processes, and a botcher of deeds and t.i.tles.

Pondering these things deeply, I made my way to the Parliament-House, then in the full hum attendant upon the close of the Session. The usual groups of the briefless were gathered around the stoves. As I happened to have a paper in my hand, I was instantly a.s.sailed by half-a-dozen unemployed advocates.

"Hallo, M'Whirter, my fine fellow--d'ye want a counsel? Set you down cheap at a condescendence," cried Mr Anthony Whaup, a tall barrister of considerable facetiousness.

"I say, M'Whirter, is it a _semiplena_? Hand it over to Randolph; he has lots of experience in that line."

"Get out, you heretical humbug! Never mind these fellows, George. Tip, and I'm your man," said Randolph.

"Can anybody tell me who is pleading before the Second Division just now?" asked a youth, looking rather white in the gills.

"Old Windla.s.s. He's good for three quarters of an hour at least, and then the judges have to give their opinions."

"I'm devilish glad to hear it. I think I shall bolt. This seems a fine afternoon. Who's for Musselburgh?"

"I can't go to-day," said Whaup. "I was tempted yesterday with a s.h.i.+lling, and sold myself."

"Who is the unfortunate purchaser?"

"Tom Hargate, crimp-general to the yeomanry."

"I'm delighted to hear it, old fellow! We have been wanting you for two years back in the corps. 'Gad! won't we have fun when we go into quarters. I say, M'Whirter--why don't you become a yeoman?"

I started at the suggestion, which, strange to say, had never crossed my mind before. There was a way then open to me--a method left by which I might satisfy, without compromising my professional character, the scruples of Edith, and become a member of the military service without abandoning the pen. The man that hesitates is lost.

"I don't know," I replied. "I think I should rather like it. It seems a pretty uniform."

"Pretty!" said Randolph. "By the Lord Harry, it's the splashest affair possible! I'll tell you what, M'Whirter, I'll back you in the yeoman's jacket and pantaloons against the Apollo Belvidere."

"It is regular Queen's service, isn't it?"

"Of course it is. Only we have no flogging."

"That's no great disadvantage. Well, upon my word, I have a great mind"----

"Then, by Jove, there goes the very man! Hallo--Hargate, I say--Tom Hargate!"

"What's the row?"

"Here's a new recruit for you. George M'Whirter, W.S. Book him down, and credit me with the bounty money."

"The Edinburgh squadron, of course," said Hargate, presenting me with a s.h.i.+lling.

"Don't be in a hurry," said one of my friends. "There are better lancers than the Templars. The Dalmahoy die, but they never surrender!"

"Barnton _a la rescousse_!" cried another.

"No douking in the Dalkeith!" observed a third.

"Nonsense, boys! you are confounding him. M'Whirter and Anthony Whaup shall charge side by side, and woe betide the insurgent who crosses their path!" said Randolph. "So the sooner you look after your equipments the better."

In this identical manner was I enrolled as a full private in the Edinburgh squadron of the Mid-Lothian Yeomanry Cavalry.

CHAPTER II.

I confess that a thrill of considerable exultation pervaded my frame, as I beheld one morning on my dressing-table a parcel which conscience whispered to me contained the masterpiece of Buckmaster. With palpitating hand I cut the cord, undid the brown paper foldings, and feasted my eyes in a trance of ecstasy upon the pantaloons, all gorgeous with the red stripe; upon the jacket glittering with its galaxy of b.u.t.tons, and the polished glory of the shoulder-scales. Not hurriedly, but with a protracted sense of keen enjoyment, I cased myself in the military sh.e.l.l, slung on the pouch-belt, buckled the sabre, and finally adjusted the magnificent helmet on my brows. I looked into the mirror, and scarcely could recognise the counterpart of Mars which confronted me.

"'Od's scimitars!" cried I, unsheathing my Bilboa, and dealing, with a reckless disregard to expense, a terrific cut at the bed-post--"Let me catch any fellow saying that the yeomanry is not a const.i.tutional force!"

And so I strode into the breakfast-room, where my old housekeeper was adjusting the materials for the matutinal meal.

"Lord save us a'!" cried Nelly, dropping in her astonishment a platter of finnans upon the floor--"Lord save us a', and keep us frae the sin o'

bluid-shed! Dear-a-me, Maister George, can that really be you! Hae ye turned offisher, and are ye gaun oot to fecht!"

"To be sure, Nelly. I have joined the yeomanry, and we shall turn out next week. How do you like the uniform?"

"Dinna speak to me o' unicorns! I'm auld enough to mind the days o' that bluidy murderin' villain Bonyparty, wha was loot loose upon huz, as a scourge and a tribulation for the backslidings o' a sinfu' land: and, wae's me! mony a mither that parted frae her son, maybe as bonny, or a hantle bonnier than yoursel', had sair een, and a broken heart, when she heard that her laddie was streekit cauld and stiff on the weary field o'

Waterloo! Na--for gudeness sake, dinna draw yer swurd or I'll swarff! O, pit it aff--pit it aff, Maister George--There's a dear bairn, bide at hame, and dinna gang ye a sodgerin'! Think o' the mither that lo'es ye, forbye yer twa aunties. Wad ye bring doun their hairs--I canna ca' them a' grey, for Miss Kirsty's is as red as a lobster--in sorrow to the grave?"

"Why, you old fool, what are you thinking of? We are not going out to fight--merely for exercise."

"Waur and waur! Can ye no tak' yer yexerceese at hame, or doun at the Links wi' golf, or gang awa' to the fis.h.i.+n'? Wadna that be better than stravagin' through the streets, wi' a lang swurd harlin' ahint ye, and consortin' wi' deboshed dragoons, and drinkin' the haill nicht, and rinnin' wud after the la.s.ses? And if ye're no gaun out to fecht, what's the use o' ye? Are ye gaun to turn anither Claverse, and burn and hang puir folk like the wicked and bluid-thirsty troopers lang syne?

Yexerceese indeed! I wonder, Maister George, ye're no just ashamed o'

yoursel'!"

"Hold your tongue, you old fool, and bring the tea-pot."

"Fule! 'Deed I'm maybe just an auld fule to gang on clattering that gate, for I never kent ye tak' gude advice sin' ye were a wean. Aweel!

He that will to Cupar maun to Cupar. Ye'se hae it a' yer ain way; but maybe we'll see some day sune, when ye're carried hame on a shutter wi'

a broken leg, or a stab in the wame, or a bullet in the harns, whilk o'

us twa is the greater fule!"

"Confound that woman!" thought I, as I pensively b.u.t.tered my roll. "What with her Cameronian nonsense and her prophecies, she is enough to disband a regiment."

And, to say the truth, her last hint about a broken leg was not altogether foreign to my own apprehensions. I had recollected of late, with no slight uneasiness, that for this sort of service a horse was quite as indispensable as a man; and, as already hinted, I had more than doubts as to my own equestrian capabilities. However, I comforted myself with the reflection, that out of the fifty or sixty yeomen whom I knew, not one had ever sustained any serious injury; and I resolved, as a further precaution against accident, to purvey me the very quietest horse that could be found anywhere. Steadiness, I have always understood, is the characteristic feature of the British cavalry.