Brownsmiths Boy - A Romance in a Garden - Page 240/241

It was a bitter night, and the tiny bit of fire that we had ventured to

make in the hole we had scooped underground hardly kept the chill from

our half-frozen limbs. Food was not plentiful, luxuries we had none,

and in place of the dashing-looking artillerymen in blue and gold people

are accustomed to see on parade, anyone who had looked upon us would

have seen a set of mud-stained, ragged scarecrows, blackened with

powder, grim looking, but hard and full of fight.

I was seated on an upturned barrel, hugging my sheepskin-lined greatcoat

closer to me, and drawing it down over my high boots, as I made room for

a couple of my wet, shivering men, and I felt ashamed to be the owner of

so warm a coat as I looked at their well-worn service covering, when my

sergeant put in his head and said: "Captain of the company of foot, sir, would be glad if you could give

him a taste of the fire and a drop of brandy; he's half dead with the

cold."

"Bring him in," I said; and I waited, thinking about home and the old

garden at Isleworth and then of that at Hampton; I didn't know why, but

I did. And then I was thinking to myself that it was a good job that we

had the stern, manly feeling to comfort us of our hard work being our

duty, when I heard the slush, slush, slush, slush, sound of feet

coming along the trenches, and then my sergeant said: "You'll have to stoop very low to get in, sir, but you'll find it warm

and dry. The lieutenant's inside."

"Yes, come in," I said; and my men drew back to let the fresh corner get

a bit of the fire.

"It's awfully kind of you," he said, as he knelt down, took off his

dripping gloves, and held his blue fingers to the flame. "What a night!

It isn't fit for a dog to be out in. 'Pon my soul, gunner, I feel

ashamed to come in and get shelter, and leave my poor boys in the

trench."

"Get a good warm then, and let's thaw and dry one of them at a time.

I'm going to turn out soon."

"Sorry for you," he said. "Brandy--thanks. It's worth anything a night

like this. I've got some cigars in my breast-pocket, as soon as my

fingers will let me get at them."

He had taken off his shako, and the light shone full upon his face,

which I recognised directly, though he did not know me, as he looked up

and said again: "It's awfully kind of you, gunner."

"Oh! it's nothing," I said, "Captain Dalton--Philip Dalton, is it not?"

"Yes," he said; "you know me?"