"I say, M'Whirter, is it a _semiplena_? Hand it over to Randolph; he has lots of experience in that line." "Get out, you heretical humbug! Never mind these fellows, George. Tip, and I'm your man," said Randolph. "Can anybody tell me who is pleading before the Second Division just now?" asked a youth, looking rather white in the gills. "Old Windlass. He's good for three quarters of an hour at least, and then the judges have to give their opinions." "I'm devilish glad to hear it. I think I shall bolt. This seems a fine afternoon. Who's for Musselburgh?" "I can't go to-day," said Whaup. "I was tempted yesterday with a shilling, and sold myself." "Who is the unfortunate purchaser?" "Tom Hargate, crimp-general to the yeomanry." "I'm delighted to hear it, old fellow! We have been wanting you for two years back in the corps. 'Gad! won't we have fun when we go into quarters. I say, M'Whirter--why don't you become a yeoman?" I started at the suggestion, which, strange to say, had never crossed my mind before. There was a way then open to me--a method left by which I might satisfy, without compromising my professional character, the scruples of Edith, and become a member of the military service without abandoning the pen. The man that hesitates is lost. "I don't know," I replied. "I think I should rather like it. It seems a pretty uniform." "Pretty!" said Randolph. "By the Lord Harry, it's the splashest affair possible! I'll tell you what, M'Whirter, I'll back you in the yeoman's jacket and pantaloons against the Apollo Belvidere." "It is regular Queen's service, isn't it?" "Of course it is. Only we have no flogging." "That's no great disadvantage. Well, upon my word, I have a great mind"---- "Then, by Jove, there goes the very man! Hallo--Hargate, I say--Tom Hargate!" "What's the row?" "Here's a new recruit for you. George M'Whirter, W.S. Book him down, and credit me with the bounty money." "The Edinburgh squadron, of course," said Hargate, presenting me with a shilling. "Don't be in a hurry," said one of my friends. "There are better lancers than the Templars. The Dalmahoy die, but they never surrender!" "Barnton _à la rescousse_!" cried another. "No douking in the Dalkeith!" observed a third. "Nonsense, boys! you are confounding him. M'Whirter and Anthony Whaup shall charge side by side, and woe betide the insurgent who crosses their path!" said Randolph. "So the sooner you look after your equipments the better." In this identical manner was I enrolled as a full private in the Edinburgh squadron of the Mid-Lothian Yeomanry Cavalry. CHAPTER II.