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Phantom Regiment; or, Stories of "Ours"

<h3> CHAPTER III. JACK SLINGSBY. </h3> The killing of the Spanish lieutenant revived among our diplomatic people the ever-rankling quarrel about the contrabandistas, and the captain-general of Andalusia wrote an angry letter to the governor of Gibraltar, remonstrating with him on the conduct of the officer in charge of the battery at the Mole Fort, in daring to fire upon a Spanish government cruiser, and requesting that the said Don Ricardo Ramble should be given up to the Spanish authorities to be sent to the galleys at Barcelona probably, or to be otherwise disposed of. This absurd demand, however, the old general commanding waived politely; but the correspondence was prolonged until the military secretary became bored to death on the subject, and lost all patience at the very mention of it. Now as the Queen of Spain designates herself sovereign lady of Gibraltar, and as the alcalde of San Roque, a little town which has sprung up within the last hundred and fifty years, still styles himself in all official documents Alcalde of San Roque and of Gibraltar, and holder of supreme authority therein, the tone assumed by the capitan-general, who was on a visit to Jaen, was pompous, high, and mighty; for no explanation we could give in writing could make the irritable old Castilian hidalgo see that the lieutenant of the guarda costa had been in the wrong. One evening, on entering the mess-room, I was startled by Colonel Morton acquainting me that by directions just arrived from the Foreign Secretary he had been requested to send the two officers who were on guard in the new Mole Fort into Spain. "Without hostage or guarantee—the devil!" said I, shrugging my shoulders; "and to whom?" "To this obstinate old bore by habit, and boar by nature, the captain-general." "As prisoners, colonel?" cried Slingsby, with an astounded air from the other end of the table, and pausing with his hand on a wine decanter; "you don't mean to say as prisoners?" "Prisoners—not at all; how could you think of such a thing?" said the colonel, laughing, for he was a hearty old soldier, at whose name stood P.W. and K.H., and C.B. in Hart's Army List; "you go merely to explain the late affair in person; and it is the more necessary for you both to go as the two aides-de-camp of the governor are on the sick list. It is only a ride of some seventy or eighty miles into Spain—wish 't were I who had the duty to do." "And where does the captain-general live?" "At Seville, to which place he is now returning from Jaen." "Ah, indeed, Seville," said I, reviving, as I filled my glass with Moselle, and Slingsby stuck his glass in his remarkably knowing eye. "You'll take good horses; but be careful of rogues, raterillos, and footpads by the way. I can lend you a pair of pistols with spring bayonets." "Thank you, colonel, I have my revolver," said I, laughing. "What! you smile, Ramble?" said the colonel; "and believe me to have the bandittiphobia; but I know Spain well, having marched over every foot of the Peninsula under Lord Lyndedoch, and fought my way from the Black Horse Square at Lisbon to the banks of the Nive, so I know pretty well, that in peace as in war armed desperadoes, whose hands are against all men, are, as a certain traveller says, 'the very weeds of the Spanish soil.' Right well do I know the land of Los Espagnols as we used to call them in the old fighting 5th Hussars. I was in the cavalry then, and had I not grown stiff in the joints, and lost all relish for adventures by day, fleas by night, and the resinous taste of vino out of a skin at all times, I would have saved you the trouble of the journey and gone myself; but my instructions from home say that Captain Ramble and Lieutenant Slingsby must go, so there is the end of it. Major, Mr. Vice, another bottle of wine to drink 'bon voyage' to Ramble and Slingsby." "With all my heart; sergeant Slopper, a fresh allowance of wine," said the major. "Wish I were going with you," said Shafton, the captain of our light company; "a ride to Seville! the very name of the place conjures up a sunny vision of orange trees and glowing grapes, of black mantillas and taper ancles, and different duty from trenching in the Crimea as we might have been, and ought to have been by this time." "Aye," quoth M'Leechy the doctor, who although married (as he knew to his cost) was dining that day with the mess; "and a pleasant change after our dull routine of garrison life, during which we have, as 'Punch' says— "Contentedly eat ration beefs and muttons,     Contentedly drank ration rums and waters; Darned our own socks, and sewed our own buttons,     Fried in summer, and froze in winter quarters." "A fine upon the doctor," said Shafton; "colonel, Mr. Vice, gentlemen, he vilely satirises Her Majesty's service, a bottle of champagne from the doctor." "You will remember us all most affectionately to Donna Dominga and to the bewitching Paulina—you will see them of course," said some one from the foot of the table. "The doctor must prepare some of the rarest specimens of those remarkable cacti with which he subdued the heart of the plump widow," said Slingsby, taking up the chorus of banter, "and have them ready by to-morrow; we start to-morrow, I presume, colonel." "As early as you please," said Morton. "We shall have some glorious fun in Seville—eh, Ramble? You'll envy us, gentlemen." "If the captain-general does not garotte you," snarled the doctor; "or treat you as Don Ramon Cabrera, the Conde de Morella, treated the husband of Donna Dominga." "But for that gentle sigh, doctor, I would have considered you quite a bear," said Slingsby, "but pass the wine, M'Leechy." "If you find Seville dull," retorted the doctor, "you had better play the same little prank you played at Kilkenny when you were in the Sixth." "What did he do when in the Sixth?" inquired a dozen voices at once. "What did he not do you should ask," continued the doctor, while Jack smiled faintly and filled up his glass. "Once when we marched into Kilkenny we found there had been a quarrel between the Rapparees of the district and the first battalion of Scots Royals. It was in the time of high Repeal enthusiasm, and nothing was thought of but an Irish Republic, so the people looked darkly at the redcoats. Now Slingsby had never been in Ireland before, and as he received over the barrack-guard from one of the Royals, with bayonets fixed and drum beating, he asked how the inhabitants liked the troops. "'Ill enough,' answered the Royal, 'since we shot some of them in a tithe business near Roscrea: they have been as cold as charity, and the devil a dinner or ball have we had since last muster day, and you be here till you are mouldy without seeing such a thing as a waltz or white kids—ices and fowl, trifle and champagne.' "Whereupon Mr. Jack Slingsby, being an Englishman, and knowing no better, believed he might play pranks upon the Irish; and seating himself in his quarters next day, he assumed his pen and dispatched the following card to every house in the town:— "'Lieutenant Slingsby, of H.M.'s 6th Foot, presents his compliments to the ladies of Kilkenny, and takes the earliest opportunity of announcing his arrival. He begs to inform them that he can play whist, casino, and every game on cards known in Christendom; that he flirts to admiration, and can polk, waltz, and dance the varsovienne ditto, that generally he can accommodate himself to every whim-wham of the charming sex, and is always to be heard of at his residence in the infantry barracks.' "Among others he rashly sent one of these precious circulars to Mrs. Towler, the wife—I beg her pardon—the lady of the major-general of the district, who wickedly handed it to her husband at breakfast; so poor Jack's production brought him before a general court-martial. It went very hard with him, for the irascible general deemed that his wife and her ten highly-eligible daughters were grossly insulted; but our hero escaped with a reprimand, and the colonel was directed to watch his conduct in future, but he became thereafter the lion of Kilkenny and Carlow to boot, and all the district from Roscrea to Clonmel. After that, an evening party without Jack, would have been like a bell without a clapper." "But the general never forgave me for that prank," said Jack, good-humouredly; "and he was always on the watch for me afterwards." "You remember how nearly he had you booked for another court-martial on a race day?" "And how nicely I outflanked and outwitted him! It was the day of the principal races; I had a horse to run, and more than half the regiment had made a heavy book on him, and a great amount of paper was expected to change owners on the issue. The lord-lieutenant was to be there, and I was all anxiety to be present at the race, when, as the devil or the adjutant would have it, I found myself in orders the day before—orders for guard! Everybody was going to the course, and not a soul for love or money would take my duty; so with a heavy heart I paraded in the morning; and as the time for the start drew near I saw all our fellows bowl out of barracks in drags and cars attired in sporting mufti and in high spirits. Then came old General Towler, commanding the district, in his blue frogged coat, and with the sabre which he had wielded at the passage of the Bidassoa, Mrs. General Towler, several Misses Towler, all demoiselles of mature age, and the A.D.C. Horatio Towler, captain of a regiment which he never saw, for he wisely preferred his mamma's drawing-room in Kilkenny to broiling on Cape Coast. They all scampered out, then the barrack gates were shut, and all became very quiet and still. "No sound stirred in the empty parade-yard, for no one was abroad; the sun was scorching and the sentinels stood in their boxes. I thought of the buzz, the glitter, the fun and frolic, the cold fowl, the iced champagne, the brandy and soda-water, the flirtation on the roof of a drag, on the rumble or the dickey—all the excitement and enthusiasm of the races, and more than all, I imagined how my nag would look when the exulting grooms drew his cloths off, the jockey in blue and white colours, and fancy painted him scouring like a whirlwind round the smooth green course, and beating Flying Dutchman, Lady Fanny, Albert, and all the rest of them hollow. As the time of the start drew nigh, my excitement and longing increased, but I knew too well the danger of absenting myself from a guard. I knew, moreover, that old Towler, who spent half his life in laying traps for subalterns (ensigns being his peculiar aversion), was daily furnished with a card, whereon were written the names of the officers on garrison duty, and he had seen me on guard as he passed out. The barracks are so empty, I'll never be missed, thought I, and may steal to the course in the crowd. So, as the distance was short, I hurried off on foot and in full uniform just as I had paraded for duty, with my sword, white belt, and shako. Lost amid the wilderness of tents, stalls, thimblers, and rolypoly men, carriages, gigs, cars, and vehicles of every kind, I reached the grand stand, or rather its vicinity, and was eagerly looking about for my horse as the bell had rung at the starting-point, and the race had begun long since, when I heard a tremendous cheer, and saw my own jockey borne past me, shoulder high. Blue and white had won! In my excitement and confusion I forgot all about my uniform, and was pushing, jostling, and fighting my way through the delighted mob, when the basilisk expression of two fierce grey eyes that peered from under their shaggy brows arrested me. "Heavens and earth! I was close to the carriage of old General Towler, and there he sat, sullen as Jove upon his throne of thunder clouds, scanning me and his card,—the fatal detail card, alternately. "'I am done for!' was my first thought; 'I have won the race, but lost my commission; he has nailed me at last!' and my heart sunk, as I thought of the too probable consequences of a second court-martial. "'To the barracks,' I heard him say imperiously, and I knew in a moment that he was deliberately driving off to turn out the main guard, and thus to prove me absent therefrom. I felt that I was lost—that my commission, the pride of my heart, was gone; and had not a happy thought seized me, I should not have been here to night. Just as the carriage turned round, I sprang up behind it, and stood there unseen, but stooping low, because the roof was open. "'You're sure it is that impertinent fellow, Slingsby, of the Sixth?' said Mrs. Towler, with a smile of malicious satisfaction. "'Sure as you are beside me, my love,' growled the general; 'bad example to the soldiers—very! subversive of all discipline—I'll smash him now—absent from guard—a general court-martial——' "'A saucy jackanapes,' said Miss Towler. "'Gross dereliction of duty!' "'He was most impertinent to Maria at the last ball,' said Mrs. Towler. "'Violation of the articles of war,' growled the Major General; 'but here we are close on the barracks—now we shall have him!' "'Guard turn out!' cried the sentry, presenting arms, and facing his post. "'Stop, coachman,' cried the general, as the carriage, with wheels flashing and its steaming bays at full gallop, dashed up to the guard house, where they reared back on their haunches, as the guard formed line, opened ranks, and the drum gave the single customary ruffle, just as I dropped unseen from the foot-board behind, drew my sword, and took my place coolly at the head of my men. "'Sergeant,' roared the general; 'where's the officer of the guard—where's that infernal—where is Mr. Slingsby?' "'Here, general,' said the astonished noncommissioned officer. "'I am here, sir,' said I, haughtily lowering the point of my sword. "'Here—you!' he exclaimed with a glance of astonishment and perplexity, as he fumbled with his confounded detail card; 'what the deuce—I thought—that will do, however; guard, turn in, sir; coachman, drive on!' "And the carriage, with the general and all his daughters, with their fringed parasols, rolled away. Old Towler never discovered how I circumvented him, though he assured his son, the aide-de-camp, that he could have made his affidavit on seeing me at the races, and in ten minutes after found me at the head of my guard more than two miles distant." Next day Slingsby and I left the garrison on our mission to Seville. He accompanied me with some reluctance, for he disliked the Spaniards, having been frequently among them, and being one who possessed a strange facility for getting into all kinds of scrapes and broils. Before starting we received from the military secretary all the papers connected with the affair of the guarda costa; and, what was of more importance to us, we received from the paymaster a necessary portion of "the soul of Pedro Garcias," and taking with us only our undress uniform and grey great-coats, our swords and revolvers (for one might as well travel without brains as without arms in Spain; besides, Fabrique de Urquija, a devil of a fellow, haunted the Sierra de Ronda), a valise with six shirts each, a box of cubas, and a John Murray, we crossed the isthmus, passed through the Spanish lines about an hour after the morning gun was fired, and with the gorgeous sunrise of a beautiful Spanish day took the wild and lonely road into Andalusia, with well-filled purses, good nags under us, light hearts and thoughtless heads, and in such a frame of mind, that, in pursuit of adventure, we would have faced anything, from a black beetle to a mad bull. I thought of Donna Paulina (when did I not think of her?) and as the strong ramparts of Gibraltar lessened in our rear, I hummed "Pues por bisarte Minguillo," her coquettish little song of "The Kiss." Poor Paulina! <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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