Such was Tom at that time, but the war had
"brought him out." He had rushed into the ranks, shouldered a musket,
and fought bravely. So much I knew--and I was soon to hear how he had
come to be Stuart's aid.
The supper was charming. The young girls waited on us with mock
submission and delighted smiles. Tom and I had fallen to the lot of a
little princess with golden ringlets; and Miss Katy Dare--that was her
name--acquitted herself marvellously. We supped as though we expected
to eat nothing for the next week--and then having finished, we rose,
and waited in turn on the fair waiters.
Behind every chair now stood an officer in uniform.
Bright eyes, rosy cheeks, jewelled hands, glossy curls--there was the
picture, my dear reader, which we beheld as we "waited" at that magical
supper near Buckland. When we wrapped our capes around us, and fell
asleep on the floor, the little maidens still laughed in our dreams![1]
[Footnote 1: A real incident.]
XVI.
AN HONEST FOP.
Stuart moved again at dawn. The scene of the preceding evening had
passed away like a dream. We were in the saddle, and advancing.
Riding beside Lieutenant Tom Herbert, I conversed with that worthy, and
found the tedious march beguiled by his gay and insouciant talk.
His "record" was simple.
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