But the weeks rolled by without change, save that Dick felt himself quite at home in the troop, and was able to hold his own with the rest.

He had more than once asked Wyatt if there was any fresh news, invariably to receive a shake of the head and the reply:

“One never knows.”

Sergeant Stubbs had reported his pupil as having passed well through the riding-school routine; and this was the principal thing he had to master, for he had come out from college a trained soldier, and his year in a company of foot artillery had prepared him well for his new appointment.

“I shall be glad when we get away from this constant drilling,” said Dick one morning, with a yawn. “I don’t think I want to fight, but I should like for us to be going to some of the big cities, so that one could see the rajahs with their grand show and jewellery. I’ve been out here in India all this time, and seen so little. I say, Wyatt, that was all nonsense about our being ordered up-country.”

“Perhaps so; one never knows. You’ll see enough some day if you wait patiently,” continued Wyatt; “and after you’ve seen a rajah sitting like a figure of Buddha, dressed up in muslins and cloth of gold, and flashing with diamonds, in his howdah, you’ll think what a stupid old woman he looks, and be ready to bless your stars that you weren’t born a rajah or nawab or gaikwar out here, but an English gentleman, which, after all, is the finest title under the sun.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Dick slowly; “there’s something very attractive in show.”

“Can’t be very comfortable to be going about dressed like a woman.”

“I shouldn’t dislike one of their jewelled swords.”

“Tchah! Our service-blade is worth a hundred of them. Why, there’s no grip to them; and as to the jewels, they must be always getting knocked out of the settings. All very well to have under a glass case. I say, did you hear about your friend the Black Diamond?”

“Bob Hanson? Yes,” said Dick gloomily. “I was in hopes that he was turning over a new leaf.”

“Not he.”

“It’s having leave to go out in the native quarters and getting that abominable arrack. That dose of cells ought to set him right again. Let’s see; he was out again this morning, wasn’t he?”

“Oh, yes,” said Wyatt derisively; “he was out again last night. Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard? Heard what?”

“Oh, of course: you went with Hulton to the Forty-fifth mess last night, and wouldn’t know.”

“Know what?” said Dick impatiently. “I never did know any one so slow at telling a story. Is this one?”

“Gently, young fireworks,” said Wyatt coolly, “and I’ll tell you. Black Bob was to have been out this morning, sober and wise after his last escapade. But he must have had some spirits smuggled in through his cell window, I expect; for, instead of waiting patiently, he must let the stuff get into his head; then he watches his chance, and after knocking at his cell and getting the sentry to open, knocks him down, and makes a bolt of it.”

“Oh, the fool, the fool!” cried Dick angrily.

“Good boy,” said Wyatt: “strong, but just. That’s just what he is.”

“But has he broken barracks?”

“Not he, my dear boy. The sentry objected to being knocked down, so he sat up and fired his carbine.”

“He hasn’t shot the man?”

“Not he. I dare say he felt savage. Being knocked down hurts a fellow; but, with all his blackguardism, the boys like Black Bob because of the way in which he can fight. Lots of them know how he stands by them in a scrimmage. The sentry only fired his carbine; then the sentry at the gate fired and turned out the guard, and my lord was caught.”

“Did he go buck quietly to the cell?” asked Dick.

“Did he do what?” cried Wyatt, bursting into a roar of laughter. “You should go and look at the guards’ uniforms. Tattered, dear boy, tattered. The leg of one fellow’s overalls was torn right up from bottom to top, another had his jacket dragged off, and two men have got pairs of the most beautiful black eyes you can imagine.”

“Tut, tut, tut!” ejaculated Dick.

“Oh, yes, he went very quietly back to the cells, but they had to sit on him first, three of the lads, for about half-an-hour till he cooled down; and then they had to give him the frog’s march—four of them to carry him like on springs, while four more marched alongside, ready to jump on the frog if he tried to hop.”

“I never saw that done,” said Dick; “they each take a wrist or an ankle, don’t they?”

“That’s it, Dicky, and turn him face downward; and its wonderful how a fellow like that can kick out just like a frog, and drive the bearers here and there. But they got him back safe to his cell, and pitched him in. He’s a beauty! Aren’t you proud of him?”

“It’s disgraceful!” cried Dick angrily. “Did he hurt the men much?”

“Can’t give fellows black eyes without hurting ’em,” replied Wyatt, swinging his big legs about as he sat on the table; “but the boys don’t bear him any malice for that. What they don’t like is having their uniforms damaged.”

“What will happen now?”

“Master Bob will have to take the heroic remedy reserved for bad boys.”

“What do you mean?”

“Pussy,” said Wyatt, twisting his abundant moustache.

“The cat? Flogging?”

“That’s it, and serve the beggar right. And if that does no good, we shall have to make him a present of his uniform and his liberty after a pleasant little musical ceremony, but his buttons and facings will be cut and stripped off. Don’t like it, though. Looks so bad before the native troops. I’d rather they put him out of his misery at once.”

“What! shoot him?” cried Dick, with a look of horror.

“Yes; the poor beggar’s irretrievably bad. It would be a soldier’s death. Better for him than letting him go on disgracing himself, his corps, and the position of the British army out here.”

“It’s very, very horrible,” said Dick sadly.

“So it is, dear boy; but what can we do? As I’ve told you before, he has been let off no end of times. Ah, there goes Hulton to have Master Bob haled up before him. Ta-ta.”

Dick waited anxiously for the result of the military, magisterial examination of the previous night’s incident, and in due time he encountered Wyatt again.

“Well?” he said anxiously.

Wyatt laughed.

“Oh, they’re giving him another trial.”

“They’re not going to flog?”

“No. Double allowance of cells, and the doctor is to take him in hand. The poor beggar must be a bit off his head, I suppose. Diachylon says, though, he’s as right as any man in the troop.”

“Who’s he?” asked Dick wonderingly.

“Old Sticking-plaster—the doctor. So Bob’s got off again. Bread and water. Not savoury fare. The water’s so bad.”

An hour later Dick encountered the sergeant striding along, making the wind whistle with his big silver-mounted riding-whip, while his spurs jingled loudly.

He halted and saluted as Dick drew near.

“Heard about Black Bob, I suppose, sir?” he said.

“Yes, Stubbs; it’s a bad business.”

“Bad isn’t the word for it, sir. Wish to goodness he’d desert.”

“What? Why, his punishment would be ten times worse,” cried Dick.

“Yes, sir,” said the sergeant, twisting up his fierce mustachios; “much worse.”

“Then why do you wish that?”

“Well, sir, between you and me, you can’t punish a man till you catch him.”

“No; but he would be sure to be caught.”

“India’s a big place, sir,” said the sergeant.

“Of course it is, but no English soldier could hide himself without being caught sooner or later.”

“Depends upon them as is looking for him, sir.”

“What? Oh, I see, you mean that the men wouldn’t try to find him.”

“That’s it, sir. I believe the boys would all go blind when they went after him, and come back time after time to report that they hadn’t seen him.”

“They wouldn’t find him, then?”

“That’s it, sir; and the officers wouldn’t say anything. They don’t want to punish the men.”

“Of course not, unless they are obliged.”

“Of course, sir. They want the whole of the troop to shine as bright as their helmets and buttons before the people here. It’s our character that carries everything. You’ve seen, sir, how the authorities, from the Governor-general downward, encourage the officers and men in their sports as well as the fighting, pig-sticking, hunting, and tiger-shooting, and the rest of it. They like the native princes and the people to think that there’s no one like an Englishman, and that makes ’em contented with being ruled over by us. There’s a tiger killing the poor women and children about a village, and the Hindu chaps run away. English officer hears of it, and he gets up a hunt. Perhaps he rides on an elephant; perhaps he walks the brute down, and shoots him. Don’t matter what it is, we’re there—the best riders and the most daring over everything; while, when it comes to one of our little wars, and a rajah brags that he’s going to drive us out of the country, he collects his thousands, and comes to drive us; and the general laughs, sends a hundred or so of us, and we drive him. ’Tain’t brag, sir; we do it. We’ve done it again and again, and before long you’ll be seeing for yourself.”

“Ah!” cried Dick eagerly. “Then you’ve heard news?”

“Only rumbles, sir. There’s a storm brewing somewhere, but it hasn’t broke. But you may make sure of one thing; that sooner or later we shall have one: so, if I was you, I’d give orders to the armourer to grind my sword up to the finest edge and point.”

Dick nodded, and looked thoughtful.

“That’s a thing, sir, that we neglect, and the natives don’t. An Indian’s proud of his sword, and gets it made of the finest steel. Why, a man might almost shave with some of the tulwars they wear. I think Government ought to see that we have as good, but it don’t.”

“Where do you think the war will be, Stubbs?” said Dick.

“Don’t know, sir. Haven’t an idea. I only feel that there really is something coming.”

“With real fights instead of sham, Stubbs?”

“That’s it, sir; and that’s why I want to see you carrying sword that isn’t all show.”