am said
that he had all he could possibly wish for, and so the matter ended for
the moment. But when he came home, and found Henry with all his plans
changed, and not knowing how to set about making a career for himself,
the baron von Alten's words flashed into his mind.

'You were always fond of soldiering,' he said to Henry one day, 'and I
believe you could describe the battles I have fought in almost as well
as I could. If the baron can give me a commission for you, will you take
it? I am sure you would make a splendid soldier.'

Henry's eyes beamed. Somehow he had never thought of that. At the
Charterhouse he had been laughed at for his love of books, and called
the 'Phlos.'--short for 'Philosopher'--by the boys. He had always, too,
been very religious, and after his mother's death (which occurred when
he was about fourteen) had gathered four of his special friends round
him once or twice a week in the big dormitory where they all slept, in
order that they might read the Bible together. Yet there was in Havelock
much of the spirit of the old crusader and of his enemy, the follower of
Mahomet the prophet, and though, unlike them, he did not deal out death
as the punishment of a rejected faith, still he positively delighted in
fighting, and indeed looked on it as a sacred duty.

So the commission was obtained, and Henry, now second lieutenant in the
Rifle Brigade, then called the 95th, was sent to Shorncliffe, and
captain Harry Smith was his senior officer. The Boer war has made us
very well acquainted with the name of this gentleman, for in after years
it was given to the town of Harrismith in South Africa, while his wife's
has become immortal in 'Ladysmith.'

* * * * *

Young Havelock, who was still under twenty-one, made fast friends with
his captain, and listened eagerly to all he could tell of the Punjaub,
where Smith had seen much of service. How he longed to take part in such
deeds! But his turn was slow in coming, and for eight years he remained
inactive in England, while the nation was recovering as best it could
from the strain of the Peninsular War. Most of his messmates grumbled
and fretted at having 'nothing to do,' but this was never Havelock's
way, for if he could not 'do' what he wanted, he did something else. The
young man, only five feet six inches in height, with the long face and
eyes which looked as if they saw things that were hidden from other
people, spent hi