Gil the Gunner: The Youngest Officer in the EastFenn, George Manville
General
Gil the Gunner: The Youngest Officer in the East
Fenn, George Manville
Great Britain. Army -- Colonial forces -- India -- Juvenile fiction; Young men -- Juvenile fiction
"No; I could not, unless it was by the command of those whose commission
I hold."
"Wait. Think about it," he said gravely, as he rose with an impatient
gesture, and a heavy frown upon his brow.
But it passed off quickly, and he turned and offered me his hand.
"Good-bye," he said quietly. "I am not angry; I like you the more. If
you had said `yes' quickly, and been dazzled by the thoughts of becoming
a great officer, with show, and grand horses, and attendants, I should
have shrunk within myself, and said, `You are wrong. He is only mean
and vain like others. He is not worthy of your trust.' I know now that
you are worthy, and you must come to me and be more than friend--my
brother and chief counsellor. For I mean to be great among my people
here, and raise up a grand nation from those who have been trampled down
so long. This is a mighty country, Vincent, and should be ruled over by
one who can make himself great."
He shook hands and left the shelter of the tree, while as he stepped out
into the sunshine the man who had been holding his horse ran forward
quickly as if he had been on the watch, and the rajah mounted and rode
away, the trampling I heard directly after telling my educated ears that
he must have a pretty good escort after all.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.
I went back to my tent directly after, glad to lie down and think of my
position, and to try and work out some course to follow when the rajah
came back, as I felt convinced he would in a very few days.
I felt that he must like me. His manners proved that; but the liking
might be very shallow, while beneath it all the reasons--the true
reasons--were very deep.
This, then, was why he had brought me here, and had me so carefully
nursed back to life. It was because I was young, and could easily weld
myself into the life of those about me, and with my knowledge, and
whatever adaptability and knowledge I possessed as a gunner, I was to be
henceforth devoted to his service--to use his expression--to make him
strong.
I don't think I was vain, for my thoughts had agreed here, as I said to
myself that I was clever as an artilleryman. No, it was not vanity, for
I was strong in my drill, for the simple reason that I was ready to ride
anywhere at anything, when I joined, and because I was so devoted to my
profession, and thoroughly gloried in keeping those with whom I had to
do perfect in every evolution they had to perform.
And as I lay there--a mere boy, suddenly called upon to undertake such a
tremendous task, I calmly said to myself--
"Yes; I suppose I could drill up a lot of his men, who can ride, into
decent gunners in time; and it would be very pleasant to be a great man,
and the rajah's favourite; but it is impossible. I could not undertake
it. I should deserve to have the lace stripped from my uniform before
all the men, and then to be kicked out of the service.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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