The King's Own Borderers: A Military Romance, Volume 2 (of 3)Grant, James
General
The King's Own Borderers: A Military Romance, Volume 2 (of 3)
Grant, James
Soldiers -- Fiction
Often he turned to wave a farewell to Askerne, whose erect and
soldier-like figure was lessening in the distance, as he walked back
to Portalegre. At last, a turn of the road, where it wound suddenly
between some olive groves, hid him entirely; and, for the first time,
an emotion of utter loneliness came over Quentin's heart as he
hastened towards the darkening hills.
CHAPTER XII.
ANXIOUS FRIENDS.
"Oh, Leolyn, be obstinately just;
Indulge no passion and deceive no trust.
Let never man be bold enough to say,
Thus, and no farther, shall my passion stray;
The first crime past compels us into more,
And guilt grows _fate_, which was but _choice_ before."
AARON HILL.
The third day and the fourth passed away at Portalegre; on the fifth
and sixth, Major Middleton and others, who felt a friendly interest
in Quentin Kennedy, began to surmise, when they met on the morning or
evening parade, or in each other's billets, or so forth, that it was
time now he had reported his return, and the good or bad success of
his journey, to the colonel and general commanding the division.
Other days passed; it was whispered about from staff-office officials
that ere long the division would leave Portalegre, as the whole army
was about to advance against the enemy; and then Captain Askerne,
Monkton, Buckle, the adjutant, and others, became doubly anxious
about the lad, and were interested as much as men could be under
their circumstances, when human life is deemed of so little value as
it is when on active service and before an enemy.
As for Warriston of the 94th, not being under the immediate command
of Colonel Crawford, he openly and bitterly inveighed against "the
iniquity of having sacrificed a mere youth in such a manner," and
threatened "to bring the matter prominently before Sir John Moore,"
who commanded the forces in Portugal.
"He has, perhaps, gone over to the enemy--a despatch is sometimes
well paid for," said Cosmo, in his sneering manner, when some of
these remarks reached him on parade, one morning.
"Impossible, my dear sir--impossible!" said Middleton, testily, while
spurring and reining in his horse; "I know the lad as if he were my
own son, and feel assured that he is the soul of honour; that he was
all ardour for the service, and that he would die rather than
disgrace himself."
"Indeed--ah-aw--you think so?" drawled Cosmo, with his glass in his
sinister eye, as he surveyed the major with a glance of somewhat
mingled cast.
"I do, colonel," was the emphatic rejoinder.
"He has disappeared at all events--a dubious phrase. If the fellow
has not levanted to the Duke of Dalmatia with General Hope's
despatch, may his heart not have failed him? may he not have shown
the white feather? Better men than he, among the Belem Rangers, have
done so ere now."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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