--thrust--parry. Two. Cut--thrust--parry.
Shunt Now from the word of command, right through. Sword exercise.
Prep--air! Prove distance--go! Shun! Pursuin' practice I Prep--_air!_
Go! Shun! That's all right, sir. Ever been in the service before, young
feller?'

'No,' said Polson. 'I always meant to join, and I thought I'd get ready
as far as I could.'

'Now look here, my lad,' said the Sergeant. 'You've been through the
mill before, you have. You're a deserter, you know, that's what you
are.'

Polson laughed. He had thought never to laugh again, but the accusation
tickled him.

'I beg your pardon, Captain Volnay,' he said, saluting in officer's
fashion--the only way he had been taught; 'but perhaps you will speak up
for me.'

'Deserter?' said Volnay. 'Rubbish! Known the man for years. Always keen
on the service, and got ready for it. Jervase.' 'Yes, sir.'

'You're a pretty good shot, I gather?' 'Thank you, sir.'

'Any instruction in musketry?' 'Pretty fair, sir.'

'Put him through his facings, Sergeant, in the riding school at four
o'clock this afternoon. I'll be there. You hear, Jervase?'

'Yes, sir.'

At this juncture the Sergeant surprised a wink from Volnay, which that
young gentleman supposed to have been unseen, and he fell a-thinking.
The result of his cogitation was rapid and conclusive. The young man who
knew the minutiae of his trade of soldier, and had an officer's trick
of salute, and was on winking terms with the wealthiest man in the
regiment, was a person to be made up to, and to be made up to in the
least transparent way.

'We're awfully short-handed, sir,' said the Sergeant, touching his
forage cap to Volnay. 'We might utilise this man as a drill, sir, if
you'll permit me to suggest such a thing. I could get on twice as fast,
sir, if I'd half the squad to deal with.'

'Very well,' said Volnay. 'I'll see the adjutant about that.'

And the raw recruit was drilling his barrack-room comrades before he
or they had fitted on a uniform, and his ringing 'Carry--so!' or
'Ground--oh!' sounded through the square as imperiously as any in those
first busy days.

'You're a (conventional) wonder, you are,' said the drill instructor at
the close of the second day. 'You've got the powers that be behind you,
and you'll be one of _us_ in a month or two. Promotion's quick when the
word comes for blood and rust and mud and oil.'

CHAPTER VIII

If Polson had not to be taught how to ride, how to han