"I shall go to Germany with you, Colonel Preston, as a private trooper, and I care little if I never come back again." "And you positively refuse this commission?" "From an unknown donor, yes, colonel." "Well, 'tis puzzling, but you know your own affairs best. I have the reputation of being the most eccentric old fellow in the service; henceforth you shall enjoy the reputation of being the most eccentric young one." Old Preston gave me a kind of nod, as if to intimate that the interview was over, and resumed a conference with the farrier-sergeant concerning the re-shoeing of all the horses prior to embarkation, while I strolled forth into the barrack-yard to ponder over what had passed. The news of this interview rapidly spread, and I was speedily joined by Tom Kirkton. "By Jove!" he exclaimed, "I like your spirit, Gauntlet; yet this seems to me--and it would have seemed to poor Jack, had he been here--the very acme of petulance and folly." Selfishness and ambition struggled with pride. I was silent, for it seemed to me that never again might such a chance of being raised to my proper position occur to me, and already I half repented having scorned or refused the proffered gift, without inquiry. It was not too late to retract! I made one pace towards the orderly-room, but pride resumed its power, and I turned away. "It must be the act of my cousin, Aurora Gauntlet," said I, "for I have not a relative on earth that I know of, Tom, but her." "Does it not occur to you, most sapient sir, that your cousin might find it easier and more convenient to forget you--to ignore rather than to remember you, and do her utmost to be your friend?" "True, Tom, but you cannot feel as I feel in this matter." "And then, of course, it is not every dragoon who carries in his valise a diploma of baronetcy." "These last words of yours, Kirkton, have cured me even of regret," said I, bitterly. "Then I am sorry that they passed my lips. 'Oons man, why not make love to her?--there are worse matches in this world than a young and handsome cousin." These words provoked only an angry smile, and the trumpet sounding for stable duty cut short the interview by hurrying us to look after the wants of our respective steeds. So, according to my desire, Colonel Preston wrote to the agents, and the money was returned; but in the next War Office Gazette how great was the surprise of my comrades and myself when we read the following announcement-- "_Scots Greys, Light Troop_.--Lieut. Sholto Douglas to be captain, _vice_ Lindsay, killed in action; Cornet James Keith to be Lieut., _vice_ Douglas, promoted; Sir Basil Gauntlet, Bart., to be cornet, _vice_ Keith." "Sir Basil Gauntlet, _Baronet_!" Had a loaded bomb of the greatest size exploded in the centre of the mess-room table it could scarcely have created so much speculation as this remarkable gazette did among the officers of his Majesty's Second Dragoons, of whom I thus found myself one.