ing the former with avidity, for he was
feverishly thirsty, but the first mouthful of food seemed as if it would
choke him, and he took no more.

Half an hour later he had another cup of tea, for his thirst seemed
greater, and after that he went and wandered about the town, finding
most rest in the shade of the great ruined Castle Keep, where the
jackdaws sailed round, and cawed at him as if they were old friends from
Primchilsea who recognised him and called out to their companions that
he was below.

"What should he do," he thought; "what should he do?" For his plan had
been completely checked, and in the most unexpected way.

He was sick at heart and faint in body, but his spirit was not crushed.
He had laid his hand to the plough, and if a hundred good-tempered
well-meaning fat sergeants came or gave their advice he could not look
back. No; he must sleep at Ratcham that night, and make for Quitnesbury
in the morning. There was a cavalry depot there; and if he failed
again, he could go on to Ranstone.

"There must be regiments where they would take me," he muttered, as he
walked back toward the town in the pleasant sunny evening; and, as if
attracted by the place, he made his way again towards the barracks,
thinking of the fat sergeant, and in his utter loneliness feeling a
yearning to meet him again for a friendly chat, if it were possible.

"What did they call him--Lambert?" thought Richard. "Absurd! That was
only banter on the part of his companions. I wonder whether I shall
ever see him again!"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

IN PIPE-CLAYDOM.

There was still none of the pageant and display of a military life
visible to Richard as he re-entered the great gateway, before which a
sentry in white flannel jacket and forage cap was marching to and fro
with a bayonet in his hand, ready to give a glance at the lad and then
turn upon his heels and march away.

The lad walked forward as if he had business there, and went on,
wondering what the stout sergeant's name was, but not liking to stop and
ask. Then on straight across the great dreary barrack yard, surrounded
on all sides by bare-looking buildings, full of open windows, at one of
which he saw a pair of folded arms and the top of a closely-cropped
head, the owner thereof being evidently asleep. At another window there
was a pair of boot-soles, and at another a man, in shirt and trousers,
seated sidewise upon the sill, with his knees drawn up so as to form