Brumpton rolled his eyes about, but stood still. "I would not do that, man; you can't see behind you. Are you aware that the back seams of your jacket are opening out?" "No, sir, but they will do it." "Then why the dickens don't you train and get rid of some of that superfluous fat? There, you can't stop on parade. Go and get your jacket mended." Poor Brumpton's face changed as he turned to go, but before he had gone far the colonel cried: "Stop! There, go on with your duty, sir.--Poor fellow," he muttered, "I can't be hard upon him. But he is so disgustingly fat; eh, Lacey?" "Yes, he is fat," said the lieutenant, thoughtfully. "Poor beggar! it would be rough upon him on service if we had to run. I mean retreat, sir!" "The 205th will never be in such a position, sir," said the colonel stiffly. "Run, indeed! The 205th run!" "I beg your pardon, sir," said the lieutenant, whose face was now almost as red as his uniform. "Granted, Mr Lacey; but, for goodness' sake, don't you ever let me hear you say a word again about running." "Not forward, sir?" "Oh, yes; that, of course." The long morning's evolutions were gone through, the band went to the front, and the regiment was marched back to barracks; and that same afternoon, as Dick sat alone in the reading-room, copying a band-part for Wilkins, there was a panting noise close behind him, and Brumpton's thick, rich voice exclaimed: "Oh, there you are! I've been looking for you everywhere. How are you, Smithson?" "Quite well," said Dick, smiling in the non-commissioned officer's face. "Don't--don't do that," said Brumpton, sharply. "Don't do what, Mr Brumpton?" "Laugh at a man." "You don't think I was laughing at you?" said Dick, gravely. "No, no--of course not. You wouldn't, my lad. But, my word! how you are growing, Smithson! It's the drilling. You have altered since you came." "Have I?" "Wonderfully, my lad--wonderfully! Men showed up well this morning," he continued, seating himself. "Capitally," said Dick. "Couldn't hear what the colonel said, could you?" "Every word." "But you couldn't see, could you?" said the sergeant, appealingly. "Oh, yes; two great slits, with the stuffing coming out." Brumpton groaned. "I say, why don't you make the tailor take all the padding away?" cried Dick. "I did beg and pray of him to, but he wouldn't. He said it would spoil my figure, and I should look fuller and fatter. Oh, dear! I never thought, after working as I have in the regiment, that I should live to be laughed at like this!" "Oh, don't mind that. I couldn't help laughing, too, Mr Brumpton. It did look rather comic." "To you, my lad--to you; but it's death to me! I shall be turned out of the regiment on a pension. Me going out on a pension at my time of life! But it must come." "Don't let it," said Dick. "You're a young man yet." "Yes; six-and-thirty, Smithson--that's all." "Well, will you let me speak plainly, Mr Brumpton?"