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Updated: May 20, 2025
"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."
But I wish you were in the 205th with all my heart." "And in your company? I could valet you just as I used to." "Nonsense! I'm not in any company; and for me to have a servant would be impossible as well as absurd." "Well, I can't see as it would be absurd, because you, being a gent, ought to have your servant. But, to come back to my being in your regiment ain't there no way of managing it?"
Jerry coughed and then began: "The Late Fire at the Barracks. We understand that Lieutenant Sir Mark Frayne, of the 310th, has presented Smithson, the gallant young bandsman of the 205th Fusiliers, with a handsome cheque as a memento of his prowess daring the catastrophe after the military ball was nearly over. Smithson, we are glad to say, is convalescent."
I see 205th, from the Town Barracks. You have got hold of my name, my lad." "Got hold of your name!" exclaimed Richard, angrily. "There, no more of that. I tell you I can bear this no longer. It is time we came to an understanding." "My good fellow, have you been drinking?" said Mark, with a forced laugh; "or is it a touch of sunstroke?
At last, though, there was peace, and the officers of the 205th gathered in the mess-room to partake of a cup of coffee and a cigar before seeking their beds, as, utterly fagged out, they sat for some time talking over the events of the evening. "Well, gentlemen," said the colonel, at last, "I hope you are satisfied with our ball." "Satisfied!" cried the major.
The bandsmen, too, were collecting, like the men of the regiment, in full review order; for that day there was to be a march out to meet the 310th, now on its way to take up quarters in the High Barracks, and the band of the 205th were to play them in through the town to their new quarters.
"Dick Smithson, 205th Band," replied the young man, unable to keep from enjoying the state of puzzledom in which his ex-servant was plunged. "But I don't know no Dick Smithson; and how you you you! Oh, lor'!" Jerry had suddenly turned ghastly, reeled, and caught at the lamp-post close at hand. "Hush! Quiet!" cried Dick, in an excited whisper. "Don't make a scene!" "S'Richard!" gasped Jerry.
"But I'm young, and I shall grow," said Richard, hurriedly. "Then go home and grow bigger and wiser, my lad; and if you still want to join the service, come and ask for me, Sergeant Price, 205th Fusiliers, and I'll talk to you." "Only he might be at the Cape," said another of the sergeants, smiling.
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