Men had to be examined as to their physical fitness for rough work in the field; kits had to be looked to, new boots issued, and a hundred-and-one points attended to. Then there were good-byes to be said, for many of those fine, brave lads, the last they would ever have an opportunity of saying, for the Crimea was to claim them, and the deep-trodden mire and mud of the heights round Sebastopol was destined to form a covering for thousands--thousands, alas! of England's bravest soldiers. And the Queen--God bless her!--she too must take leave of her Guards, and wish them a safe return. Ah! it was a grand time, and books on Russian were forgotten in the whirl Phil had too many other things to think about. True, he had few friends to part with, and in that he was to be congratulated, for partings are ever painful; but he had hosts of duties to carry out, and his services in the office of the orderly-room were daily in requisition. "I never see such a time," grumbled Tony disgustedly. "I never get a word with yer now, young un. You're stuck in that office or on some other job all day and every day. I for one shall be jolly glad when we're off, and then I expect every one of us will be precious sorry for a time. The Guards makes a fine show on parade, but aboard a ship, about the size of one of these here barrack-rooms, they'll have to be squeezed like herrings, and then if it blows won't there be a scene! I remember I went for a week in a fishing-boat once, and spent about as miserable a time as I ever did. Lor', how jolly ill and wretched I was!" "Yes, I expect it will take a little time to get our sea-legs, Tony," Phil replied cheerily; "but once the Bay of Biscay is passed we ought to have fine weather, I'm told, and then we shall enjoy it. As to never seeing me, the job is now practically finished. To-morrow the Queen reviews us, and on the twenty-eighth we sail from Southampton. That's only a few days away. Then hurrah for Russia and a campaign!" How loyal every one of those stalwart Guardsmen felt as he stood paraded before Queen Victoria on that eventful day. How he fixed his eyes on that figure standing on the balcony of Buckingham Palace, and swore silently that he would fight and die if need be for her and for the country she ruled. Gone, in the excitement and fervour of the moment, was all thought of coming misery and privation. Gone all fear of death or injury by cannon-shot or bullet. Before them was the Queen, and beyond them, far across the sea, the Russian enemy. Ere they returned they would humble the Czar's pride, or perish in the attempt.