With Rifle and Bayonet: A Story of the Boer War. Brereton Frederick Sadleir
the narrowest parts with an accuracy which was wonderful; while tall, powerful-looking policemen stood in the thick of it all, and with a wave of a hand arrested the flow in one direction, while a flood of omnibuses and carriages swept by in the other.
“Fine fellows, aren’t they!” exclaimed Dr Hanly. “And many of them are old soldiers too. I really do not think there is another force in the world that equals them. They are well-trained and disciplined; polite and obliging, especially to country-cousins like ourselves, and with a power which is simply wonderful. I have never seen its equal, though I have known of many attempts to copy. In Paris, for instance, the policeman’s efforts to control the traffic, and make a street-crossing comparatively safe, are simply ludicrous.”
Ten minutes later the cab drew up at the hotel, and their baggage was carried in.
“Now, Jack, you can do as you like for the next hour,” cried the doctor. “I have letters to write, and so will go to my room. You had better get on a bus and go as far as you can in the time. I should advise your taking one which runs through the Strand and on past Charing Cross and Westminster. But wherever you go you will find it interesting.”
Jack had never gone alone through the streets of London before, but he was quite old enough to take care of himself, and having selected a bus, with the words “Strand, Charing Cross, and Victoria” painted on the side, he boarded it while it was running at a respectable pace, just as every boy likes to do, and seated himself in the garden-seat on top, just behind the driver.
“Afternoon, sir!” the latter, a jolly, red-faced individual, exclaimed.
“Good afternoon!” Jack replied. “I’m up in town for the second time in my life, and if you can tell me the names of the various buildings we pass, I shall be much obliged to you.”
“Ah, then you ain’t the first gentleman from the country as I’ve taken round!” answered the busman, grinning with pleasure, for, seated for many hours during the day on his box, an occasional chat came as a treat, which relieved the monotony.
“Well now, sir, that there building’s the Law Courts, and a fine place it is too; and under that funny-looking arch on t’other side is the Temple, where all these lawyer chaps has their lodgings and their church.”
As they drove through the Strand the driver showed him the various theatres, and finally pointed to the National Gallery across Trafalgar Square.
“That’s where all the best pictures go to, sir,” he said, “and if yer was to pass along on the right of it you’d see the sodger-sergeants a-walking up and down a-looking for recruits. And a fine bag they are making nowadays. What with old Kruger and the Transvaal Boers there’s likely to be trouble coming, and that’s what draws recruits. When there’s a chance of active service the young chaps comes up in scores. Funny, ain’t it, when yer think of other countries where pretty well every man has to join the army, whether he likes or not; while here, in free England, it’s left to choice, and no one need belong who doesn’t like!
“Do yer know who it is who’s perched up yonder a-looking down towards Westminster?” he continued, nodding to the Nelson Monument.
“Yes, that’s Nelson, of course,” answered Jack. “I’ve been here once before, I remember, to see the square and the fountains playing.”
“Nelson it is, right enough, sir, but he ain’t the only chap as perches himself up there. There’s a lot of chaps stands on the stonework below at times and spouts to the crowd. Agitators or something of the sort they calls ’em. At any rate they’re fellers as has got too long tongues in their mouths, I should think. Then it’s round that moniment that Englishmen gathers when there’s a row abroad, so as to let everybody know what they thinks about the matter. Ah! Trafalgar Square’s a useful sort of place, if it ain’t so very nice to look at.”
The omnibus now turned down Parliament Street, swept past Whitehall and the Horse Guards, and finally drew up at Westminster.
With a cheery “Thank you, and good-bye” to the genial driver, Jack jumped off and walked towards Westminster Bridge, where he stopped for a quarter of an hour or more, looking at the swarm of vehicles crossing, and at the panting tugs and the lazy barges floating on the river. Then he walked along the Embankment, back into the Strand, and so returned to his hotel.
“Well, Jack, to-morrow we will have a good run round the place,” exclaimed the doctor as they finished their dinner, “and after that we must find rooms for you somewhere, and introduce you to the crammer. As regards the rooms, I think it will be a good plan for you to board with someone. It is very lonely for a lad of your age in lodgings by himself, as I remember well, for I spent four years of that kind of life when I was a student. To-night, if you are not too tired, we will go to some place of amusement; a theatre for choice.”
Accordingly they went to Drury Lane, and thoroughly enjoyed the piece and the wonders of modern stage scenery.
On the following day they went to various other places, and in the evening looked up an old friend of the doctor’s, a barrister, who lived near Victoria Station.
“Look here, Jackson,” said Dr Hanly as soon as he had introduced his young friend, “I am on the look-out for rooms for this lad. He is to go to a crammer’s and work up for the army. The next examination takes place in about six months, and, if possible, I want to get him into some comfortable place where he will not be too much alone.”
“Why not try this house, then?” answered Mr Jackson. “I have been here for five years now, and have found it comfortable and reasonable. The people who run the place are most respectable, in fact they are gentlefolks who have been compelled to let rooms owing to reduced circumstances. I have two rooms, and so have Clarke and another man. I know there are two more vacant ones, for Franklin left for India last week. We generally breakfast and dine with the Eltons (the people who let the rooms), and we usually lunch outside.”
“What do you say, Jack?” asked the doctor. “You are the one chiefly concerned.”
“It seems to be just the very thing, Doctor,” Jack answered. “It is close to the address of the crammer, and therefore suitable in that way. Could we look at the rooms now, and come to a decision?”
Accordingly the vacant accommodation was inspected, and at once engaged. A week later Jack had quite settled down, the doctor had returned home, and work at the crammer’s had begun.
Jack enjoyed the life. The allowance which he was entitled to draw was a comfortable one, which enabled him to meet all his current expenses and still find something in his pocket with which to pay for amusements. His work usually kept him engaged from ten in the morning till four in the afternoon, and every night except Saturday and Sunday he did a couple of hours’ reading.
Between tea-time and dinner-time he generally went for a long walk, as to a boy of his habits constant exercise was essential. Sometimes he would make his way along the Embankment and on past Chelsea, for the river always had an attraction for him; while at other times he would go in the opposite direction.
One Saturday evening, just after dark, he was slowly returning towards Victoria, when a shrill whistle suddenly sounded in front of him, followed by a loud shout. Rain was pouring down at the time, so that the streets were practically deserted, while on the Embankment there was not a soul about.
Again the shrill whistle sounded, followed by a shout, this time less loud and decidedly muffled.
Jack’s suspicions were at once aroused, and, dropping his umbrella, he took to his heels and ran along the pavement. A few yards farther on scuffling and the sound of heavy blows reached his ears, while, almost at the same moment, a flickering gas lamp cast a feeble light across the damp pavement, showing the base of Cleopatra’s Needle, close to which was a group of struggling figures.
A minute later Jack had reached the spot, to find that four roughs had set upon two well-dressed gentlemen, one a man of some forty years of age, while the younger was no older than himself.
As Jack reached them the latter was leaning half-stunned against the stonework, where he had been knocked by a staggering blow, while at his feet rolled a police whistle with which he had