Fiction > Serialisations > London, 1896-1897 - St. Ives > Volume 13

ST. IVES. 417
a " naturalised " one, having, as Mr. Romaine put it, a stake in the country, not
to speak of a growing interest in its game-laws and the local administration of
justice. In short, here was a situation to tickle a casuist. It did not, I may say,
tickle me in the least, hut played the mischief with my peace. If you, my friends,
having weighed the pro and contra, would have counselled inaction, possibly,
allowing for the hebetude de foyer and the fact • that Flora was soon to become
a mother, you might have predicted it. At any rate I sat still and read the
newspapers ; and on the top of them came a letter from Ronald announcing that
the 4-th had their marching, or rather their sailing, orders, and that within a week
his boat would rock by the pier of Leith to convey him and his comrades to join
the Duke of Wellington's forces in the Low Countries. Forthwith nothing would
suit my dear girl but we must post to Edinburgh to bid him farewell — in a chariot,
this time, with a box-seat for her maid and Mr. Rowley. We reached Swanston
in time for Ronald to spend the eve of his departure with us at the Cottage ; and
very gallant the boy looked in his scarlet uniform, which he wore for the ladies'
benefit, and which (God forgive us men !) they properly bedewed with their tears.
Early next morning we drove over to the city, and drew up in the thick of the
crowd gathered at the foot of the Castle Hill to see the 4-th march out. We had
waited half an hour, perhaps, when we heard two thumps of a drum, and the
first notes of the regimental quick-step sounded within the walls ; the sentry at
the outer gate stepped back and presented arms, and the ponderous archway grew
bright with the red coats and brazen instruments of the band. The farewells on
their side had been said ; and the inexorable tramp, tramp upon the drawbridge
was the burthen of their answer to the waving handkerchiefs, the huzzas of the
citizens, the cries of the women. On they came, and in the first rank, behind the
band, rode Major Chevenix. He saw us, flushed a little, and gravely saluted. I
never liked the man ; but will admit he made a fine figure there. And I pitied
him a little ; for while his eyes rested on Flora, hers wandered to the rear of the
third company, where Ensign Ronald Gilchrist marched beside the tattered colours,
with chin held up and a high colour on his young cheeks, and a lip that quivered
as he passed us.
" God bless you, Ronald ! "
" Left wheel ! " — The band and the Major riding behind it swung round the
corner into North Bridge Street ; the rear rank and the adjutant behind it passed
up the Lawn Market. Our driver was touching up his horses to follow, when
Flora's hand stole into mine. And I turned from my own conflicting thoughts to
comfort her.
Written by
A. T. Quiller Couch,
after Robert Louis Stevenson's notes.
Vol. XIII.— No. 55. 27