‘I heard them calling out the name, and it sounded so queer that I thought I’d have a look at you. How you’ve grown! But tell me all about yourself. Quick, lad. I want to hear, and the mother she--’ ‘She’s all right and well, I hope,’ Herbert asked, as soon as he could put in a word. ‘Let’s go to her at once. How comes it I’ve never seen you before?’ ‘Only landed from Malta on transfer last week, myself, the missus, and three of the bairns, that’s how it was. But come along, come to the mother at once; she’ll be crazy with delight when she sees you, and so will all the rest.’ CHAPTER XII. REVELATIONS. The Larkins family had taken up their residence in a small cottage on the road to the Moorish Castle. Larkins _père_ was now principal barrack-sergeant, and as such was entitled to fairly good quarters. He had aged considerably since our first acquaintance with him. His hair was grizzled, his gait was stiff as though his ankle-joints were affected by innumerable barrack inspections, and his eyes were weak from constant search for nail-holes or other barrack damages, or the continuous appraisement of fair wear and tear. Mrs. Larkins had also changed appreciably. She was still buxom, however, and her voice had lost none of its shrill power when she was aroused. This was more seldom than of yore. Her children were no longer the trial they had once been. The two eldest boys were out in the world; Sennacherib was in the band of a regiment at Malta, and Rechab was at the same place on board a man-of-war. Two younger ones, Ascanius and Leonora, were still at home, and so was Jemima Ann, familiarly called Mimie, now a blooming maiden of nineteen, with a soft voice, a sweet face, and eyes bright enough to give the heart-ache to half the young fellows of the place. The old sergeant preceded Herbert into the cottage, to prepare his wife for a surprise. ‘Some one I know, Jonadab? Some one I’ve not seen these years? A colour-sergeant in the Duke’s Own? What are you driving at? I know no colour-sergeants; for the matter of that none of the Duke’s Own,’ Herbert heard her say as she came to the door. The moment she set eyes upon her visitor she started and shook all over. She seemed dazed, and could frame no word of speech. Then all at once she gave way, and taking Herbert’s hands in hers, drew him towards her, kissing him again and again, while tears of joy ran down her cheeks. ‘What, Hercules, boy! My boy, my own sweet boy! This is a sight for sore eyes. Where have you dropped from, and in this dress? Come in, boy, come in and tell us all your news.’ And Herbert was led into the house. Mimie came shyly forward when she was called to add her welcome to the brother she had almost forgotten. But she offered him her cheek quite naturally, and received a sister’s salute, which, nevertheless, sent the warm blood tingling through her veins. ‘You are a sister to be proud of,’ said Herbert. ‘What a beauty you have grown!’