With Rifle and Bayonet: A Story of the Boer War

A minute later a dapper little man, with clean-shaven face, jumped from a trap which had just driven up, and Dr Hanly rushed forward to shake Jack by the hand.

“My dear old boy,” he cried excitedly, roused for once out of his usual placidness, “how glad I am to meet you! What a monster you have grown, and what a name you have made for yourself! Dear, dear! and it seems only yesterday that you went off with a thigh done up in plaster and as stiff as a ramrod, and here you are returning a little weak after your illness, but a man, every inch of you, and with a lovely lady by your side. Lucky dog! Introduce me. Miss Eileen, I shall take the liberty of an old man and a very old friend of Jack’s, and shall give you a kiss. You are a lucky girl, let me tell you, for amongst all our plucky lads there is only one Jack Somerton. Well, there is Mrs Somerton calling us, and – ’pon my word, here is old Banks.”

It was indeed a splendid welcome. No sooner had one shaken Jack by the hand than someone else appeared; a gardener, a groom who had seen some service, and now there was fat old Banks, who had been reinstated, waddling up, beads of perspiration on his smiling face, and his hair almost standing on end with excitement.

“Master Jack, it’s just going to be like old times again,” he murmured, and then shook his hand violently and coughed loudly to get rid of the big lump he felt sticking in his throat.

A home-coming after a long separation is the greatest of joys, and Jack’s was indeed a happy one. Everyone seemed to have a kind word for him, and, what he appreciated far more, a welcome for Eileen Russel.

At home, then, happy and contented, we will leave him, anxiously watching the doings of his comrades out in Africa, and patiently waiting for that day when Eileen should become his wife.

And, meanwhile, his days were fully occupied. Invitations poured in upon him to dine with the gentry round about, and many a time was Jack compelled against his will to narrate his doings with the gallant British troops. And chief of all those tales, the one most appreciated, was that describing the defence of Caesar’s Camp in Ladysmith, and how he had stood there shoulder to shoulder with the Highlanders and riflemen, keeping the Boers at bay “With Rifle and Bayonet.”

The End