The whole thing would have been a job of the worst kind had Herbert been less worthy. But he had really developed into an excellent soldier, smart, personable, and thoroughly well up in his work. He had his drill-book at his fingers’ ends, and could handle a squad as well as any man in the corps. He had learnt by heart all the details of interior economy, and was fully competent to take the charge and payment of a company, or to do credit to his regiment in any position in which he might be placed. All this Mr. Wheeler was forced to admit; and although he cherished a grudge against Herbert on account of what had passed, he so loved a good soldier that he could not bear malice long. Colour-Sergeant Larkins was indeed fast becoming a very prominent person in the corps. Some backbiting and no little jealousy existed, no doubt, but he was the sort of man to soon outgrow and outlive such feelings. There was much in his manner and address to make him generally popular. His bright face, his cheerful voice, his manly straightforward ways, commended him of themselves. But he had other claims to the suffrages of his fellows. His old skill in games had not deserted him, and soldiers are very like schoolboys in their admiration and respect for personal prowess. The Duke’s Own eleven, thanks to Herbert’s batting and bowling, won every match always at the North Front. His brother sergeants felt lucky if they could secure him for a hand of fives. In all other gymnastic exercises he came equally well to the front. At the garrison athletic sports, which presently came off, as they always do, upon the racecourse at the North Front, he carried everything before him, to the intense gratification of his comrades in the corps. The name of Sergeant Larkins was indeed on every lip that day. All the world of Gibraltar was present. His Excellency the Governor came in state, so did the general, second in command, and officers of all grades with their wives; crowds of soldiers of all the regiments in garrison were there, and all cheered Herbert to the echo as he carried off the hurdle-race in magnificent style. As for the Duke’s Own, a lot of them, frantic with delight, got him on their shoulders, and were carrying him about in triumph, when some one came up, and with a hurried nervous manner, said, ‘Sergeant Larkins; where’s Sergeant Larkins?’ ‘Who wants him?’ said a dozen voices, thinking perhaps the governor had asked him to dinner, or the Queen had sent to make him a general on the spot. ‘An old friend. The oldest he’s got, I think he’ll say, when he sees me and hears my name.’ His enthusiastic supporters dropped Herbert, who came forward to speak to the inquirer. ‘It’s himself, himself, by all that’s holy! Hercules Albert, don’t you remember me?’ cried the man, as he seized both Herbert’s hands, shaking them furiously, and seeming to wish to hug him in his arms. It was the old Sergeant Larkins, his stepfather, for whom he had so long searched in vain.