On the 19th of June General Eliott, accompanied by several of his officers, paid a visit to the Spanish lines to congratulate General Mendoza, who commanded there, on the promotion that he had just received.  The visit lasted but a short time, and it was remarked that the Spanish officer seemed ill at ease.  Scarcely had the party returned to Gibraltar than a Swedish frigate entered the bay, having on board Mr. Logie, H.M.  Consul in Barbary, who had come across in her from Tangier.  He reported that a Swedish brig had put in there.  She reported that she had fallen in with the French fleet, of twenty-eight sail of the line, off Cape Finisterre; and that they were waiting there to be joined by the Spanish fleet, from Cadiz.

The news caused great excitement; but it was scarcely believed, for the Spanish general had given the most amicable assurances to the governor.  On the 21st, however, the Spaniards, at their lines across the neutral ground, refused to permit the mail to pass; and a formal notification was sent in that intercourse between Gibraltar and Spain would no longer be permitted.  This put an end to all doubt, and discussion.  War must have been declared between Spain and England, or such a step would never have been taken.

In fact, although the garrison did not learn it until some time later, the Spanish ambassador in London had presented what was virtually a declaration of war, on the 16th.  A messenger had been sent off on the same day from Madrid, ordering the cessation of intercourse with Gibraltar and, had he not been detained by accident on the road, he might have arrived during General Eliott’s visit to the Spanish lines; a fact of which Mendoza had been doubtless forewarned, and which would account for his embarrassment at the governor’s call.

Captain O’Halloran brought the news home, when he returned from parade.

“Get ready your sandbags, Carrie; examine your stock of provisions; prepare a store of lint, and plaster.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Gerald?”

“It is war, Carrie.  The Dons have refused to accept our mail, and have cut off all intercourse with the mainland.”

Carrie turned a little pale.  She had never really thought that the talk meant anything, or that the Spaniards could be really intending to declare war, without having any ground for quarrel with England.

“And does it really mean war, Gerald?”

“There is no doubt about it.  The Spaniards are going to fight and, as their army can’t swim across the Bay of Biscay, I take it it is here they mean to attack us.  Faith, we are going to have some divarshun, at last.”

“Divarshun!  You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Gerald.”

“Well, my dear, what have I come into the army for?  To march about for four hours a day in a stiff stock, and powder and pigtail and a cocked hat, and a red coat?  Not a bit of it.  Didn’t I enter the army to fight?  And here have I been, without a chance of smelling powder, for the last ten years.  It is the best news I have had since you told me that you were ready and willing to become Mrs. O’Halloran.”

“And to think that we have got Bob out here with us!” his wife said, without taking any notice of the last words.  “What will uncle say?”

“Faith, and it makes mighty little difference what he says, Carrie, seeing that he is altogether beyond shouting distance.

“As for Bob, he will be just delighted.  Why, he has been working till his brain must all be in a muddle; and it is the best thing in the world for him, or he would be mixing up the Spaniards and the Romans, and the x’s and y’s and the tangents, and all the other things into a regular jumble ­and it is a nice business that would have been.  It is the best thing in the world for him, always supposing that he don’t get his growth stopped, for want of victuals.”

“You don’t mean, really and seriously, Gerald, that we are likely to be short of food?”

“And that is exactly what I do mean.  You may be sure that the Dons know, mighty well, that they have no chance of taking the place on the land side.  They might just as well lay out their trenches against the moon.  It is just starvation that they are going to try; and when they get the eighteen French sail of the line that Mr. Logie brought news of, and a score or so of Spanish men-of-war in the bay, you will see that it is likely you won’t get your mutton and your butter and vegetables very regularly across from Tangier.”

“Well, it is very serious, Gerald.”

“Very serious, Carrie.”

“I don’t see anything to laugh at at all, Gerald.”

“I didn’t know that I was laughing.”

“You were looking as if you wanted to laugh, which is just as bad.  I suppose there is nothing to be done, Gerald?”

“Well, yes, I should go down to the town, and lay in a store of things that will keep.  You see, if nothing comes of it we should not be losers.  The regiment is likely to be here three or four years, so we should lose nothing by laying in a big stock of wine, and so on; while, if there is a siege, you will see everything will go up to ten times its ordinary price.  That room through ours is not used for anything, and we might turn that into a storeroom.

“I don’t mean that there is any hurry about it, today; but we ought certainly to lay in as large a store as we can, of things that will keep.  Some things we may get cheaper, in a short time, than we can now.  A lot of the Jew and native traders will be leaving, if they see there is really going to be a siege; for you see, the town is quite open to the guns of batteries, on the other side of the neutral ground.

“It was a mighty piece of luck we got this house.  You see that rising ground behind will shelter us from shot.  They may blaze away as much as they like, as far as we are concerned.

“Ah!  There is Bob, coming out of his room with the professor.”

“Well, take him out and tell him, Gerald.  I want to sit down, and think.  My head feels quite in a whirl.”

Bob was, of course, greatly surprised at the news; and the professor, himself, was a good deal excited.

“We have been living here for three hundred years,” he said, “my fathers and grandfathers.  When the English came and took this place ­seventy-five years ago ­my grandfather became a British subject, like all who remained here.  My father, who was then but a boy, has told me that he remembers the great siege, and how the cannons roared night and day.  It was in the year when I was born that the Spaniards attacked the Rock again; and a shell exploded in the house, and nearly killed us all.  I was born a British subject, and shall do my duty in what way I can, if the place is attacked.  They call us Rock scorpions.  Well, they shall see we can live under fire, and will do our best to sting, if they put their finger on us.  Ha, ha!”

“The little man is quite excited,” Captain O’Halloran said, as the professor turned away, and marched off at a brisk pace towards his home.  “It is rather hard on these Rock people.  Of course, as he says, they are British subjects, and were born so.  Still, you see, in race and language they are still Spaniards; and their sympathies must be divided, at any rate at present.  When the shot and shell come whistling into the town, and knocking their houses about their ears, they will become a good deal more decided in their opinions than they can be, now.

“Come along, Bob, and let us get all the news.  I came off as soon as I heard that our communication with Spain was cut off, and therefore it was certain war was declared.  There will be lots of orders out, soon.  It is a busy time we shall have of it, for the next month or two.”

There were many officers in the anteroom when they entered.

“Any fresh news?” Captain O’Halloran asked.

“Lots of it, O’Halloran.  All the Irish officers of the garrison are to be formed into an outlying force, to occupy the neutral ground.  It is thought their appearance will be sufficient to terrify the Spaniards.”

“Get out with you, Grant!  If they were to take us at all, it would be because they knew that we were the boys to do the fighting.”

“And the drinking, O’Halloran,” another young officer put in.

“And the talking,” said another.

“Now, drop it, boys, and be serious.  What is the news, really?”

“There is a council of war going on, at the governor’s, O’Halloran.  Boyd, of course, and De la Motte, Colonel Green, the admiral, Mr. Logie, and two or three others.  They say the governor has been gradually getting extra stores across from Tangier, ever since there was first a talk about this business; and of course that is the most important question, at present.  I hear that Green and the Engineers have been marking out places for new batteries, for the last month; and I suppose fatigue work is going to be the order of the day.  It is too bad of them choosing this time of the year to begin, for it will be awfully hot work.

“Everyone is wondering what will become of the officers who are living out with their families, at San Roque and the other villages across the Spanish lines; and besides, there are a lot of officers away on leave, in the interior.  Of course they won’t take them prisoners.  That would be a dirty trick.  But it is likely enough they may ship them straight back to England, instead of letting them return here.

“Well, it is lucky that we have got a pretty strong garrison.  We have just been adding up the last field state.  These are the figures ­officers, noncommissioned officers, and men ­artillery, 485; 12th Regiment, 599; 39th, 586; 56th, 587; 58th, 605; 72nd, 1046; the Hanoverian Brigade ­of Hardenberg’s, Reden’s, and De la Motte’s regiments ­1352; and 122 Engineers under Colonel Green - which makes up, altogether, 5382 officers and men.

“That is strong enough for anything, but it would have been better if there had been five hundred more artillerymen; but I suppose they will be able to lend us some sailors, to help work the heavy guns.

“They will turn you into a powder monkey, Repton.”

“I don’t care what they turn me into,” Bob said, “so long as I can do something.”

“I think it is likely,” Captain O’Halloran said gravely, “that all women and children will be turned out of the place, before fighting begins; except, of course, wives and children of officers.”

There was a general laugh, at Bob.

“Well,” he said quietly, “it will lessen the ranks of the subalterns, for there must be a considerable number who are not many months older than I am.  I am just sixteen, and I know there are some not older than that.”

This was a fact, for commissions were ­in those days ­given in the army to mere lads, and the ensigns were often no older than midshipmen.

Late in the afternoon, a procession of carts was seen crossing the neutral ground, from the Spanish lines; and it was soon seen that these were the English officers and merchants from San Roque, and the other villages.  They had, that morning, received peremptory orders to leave before sunset.  Some were fortunate enough to be able to hire carts, to bring in their effects; but several were compelled, from want of carriage, to leave everything behind them.

The guards had all been reinforced, at the northern batteries; pickets had been stationed across the neutral ground; the guard, at the work known as the Devil’s Tower, were warned to be specially on the alert; and the artillery in the battery, on the rock above it, were to hold themselves in readiness to open fire upon the enemy, should they be perceived advancing towards it.

It was considered improbable, in the extreme, that the enemy would attack until a great force had been collected; but it was possible that a body of troops might have been collected secretly, somewhere in the neighbourhood, and that an attempt would be made to capture the place by surprise, before the garrison might be supposed to be taking precautions against attack.

The next morning orders were issued, and large working parties were told off to go on with the work of strengthening the fortifications; and notice was issued that all empty hogsheads and casks in the town would be bought, by the military authorities.  These were to be filled with earth, and to take the places of fascines, for which there were no materials available on the Rock.  Parties of men rolled or carried these up to the heights.  Other parties collected earth, and piled it to be carried up in sacks on the back of mules ­there being no earth, on the rocks where the batteries would be established ­a fact which added very largely to the difficulties of the Engineers.

On the 24th the Childers, sloop of war, brought in two prizes from the west; one of which, an American, she had captured in the midst of the Spanish fleet.  Some of the Spanish men-of-war had made threatening demonstrations, as if to prevent the sloop from interfering with her; but they had not fired a gun, and it was supposed that they had not received orders to commence hostilities.  Two English frigates had been watching the fleet; and it was supposed to be on its way to join the French fleet, off Cape Finisterre.

The Spaniards were seen, now, to be at work dragging down guns from San Roque to arm their two forts ­Saint Philip and Saint Barbara ­which stood at the extremities of their lines - Saint Philip on the bay, and Saint Barbara upon the seashore, on the eastern side of the neutral side.  In time of peace, only a few guns were mounted in these batteries.

Admiral Duff moved the men-of-war under his command, consisting of the Panther ­of sixty guns ­three frigates, and a sloop, from their usual anchorage off the Water Port ­where they were exposed to the fire of the enemy’s forts ­to the New Mole, more to the southward.

Bob would have liked to be out all day, watching the busy preparations, and listening to the talk of the natives; who were greatly alarmed at the prospect of the siege, knowing that the guns from the Spanish forts, and especially from Fort Saint Philip, could throw their shot and shell into the town.  But Captain O’Halloran agreed with his wife that it was much better he should continue his lessons with Don Diaz, of a morning; for that it would be absurd for him to be standing about in the sun, the whole day.  The evening lessons were, however, discontinued from the first; as Dr. Burke had his hands full in superintending the preparations making, at the hospitals, for the reception of large numbers of wounded.

Bob did not so much mind this, for he had ceased to regard the time spent with the professor as lessons.  After he had once mastered the conjugation of the verbs, and had learned an extensive vocabulary by heart, books had been laid aside, altogether; and the three hours with the professor had, for the last two months, been spent simply in conversation.  They were no longer indoors, but sat in the garden on the shady side of the house; or, when the sky happened to be clouded and the morning was cool, walked together out to Europa Point; and would sit down there, looking over the sea, but always talking.  Sometimes it was history ­Roman, English, or Spanish ­sometimes Bob’s schooldays and life in London, sometimes general subjects.  It mattered little what they talked about, so that the conversation was kept up.

Sometimes, when it was found that topics failed them, the professor would give Bob a Spanish book to glance through, and its subject would serve as a theme for talk on, the following day; and as it was five months since the lad had landed, he was now able to speak in Spanish almost as fluently as in English.  As he had learnt almost entirely by ear, and any word mispronounced had had to be gone over, again and again, until Don Diaz was perfectly satisfied, his accent was excellent; and the professor had told him, a few days before the breaking out of the war, that in another month or two he should discontinue his lessons.

“It would be well for you to have one or two mornings a week, to keep up your accent.  You can find plenty of practice talking to the people.  I see you are good at making friends, and are ready to talk to labourers at work, to boys, to the market women, and to anyone you come across; but their accent is bad, and it would be well for you to keep on with me.  But you speak, at present, much better Spanish than the people here and, if you were dressed up as a young Spaniard, you might go about Spain without anyone suspecting you to be English.”

Indeed, by the professor’s method of teaching ­assisted by a natural aptitude, and three hours’ daily conversation, for five months ­Bob had made surprising progress, especially as he had supplemented his lesson by continually talking Spanish with Manola, with the Spanish woman and children living below them, and with everyone he could get to talk to.

He had seen little of Jim, since the trouble began; as leave was, for the most part, stopped ­the ships of war being in readiness to proceed to sea, at a moment’s notice, to engage an enemy, or to protect merchantmen coming in from the attacks of the Spanish ships and gunboats, across at Algeciras.

Bob generally got up at five o’clock, now, and went out for two or three hours before breakfast; for the heat had become too great for exercise, during the day.  He greatly missed the market, for it had given him much amusement to watch the groups of peasant women ­with their baskets of eggs, fowls, vegetables, oranges, and fruit of various kinds ­bargaining with the townspeople, and joking and laughing with the soldiers.  The streets were now almost deserted, and many of the little traders in vegetables and fruit had closed their shops.  The fishermen, however, still carried on their work, and obtained a ready sale for their catch.  There had, indeed, been a much greater demand than usual for fish, owing to the falling off in the fruit and vegetable supplies.

The cessation of trade was already beginning to tell upon the poorer part of the population; but employment was found for all willing to labour either at collecting earth for the batteries, or out on the neutral ground ­where three hundred of them were employed by the Engineers in levelling sand hummocks, and other inequalities in the ground, that might afford any shelter to an enemy creeping up to assault the gates by the waterside.

Dr. Burke came in with Captain O’Halloran to dinner, ten days after the gates had been closed.

“You are quite a stranger, Teddy,” Mrs. O’Halloran said.

“I am that,” he replied; “but you are going to be bothered with me again, now; we have got everything in apple pie order, and are ready to take half the garrison under our charge.  There has been lots to do.  All the medical stores have been overhauled, and lists made out and sent home of everything that can be required ­medicines and comforts, and lint and bandages, and splints and wooden legs; and goodness knows what, besides.  We hope they will be out in the first convoy.

“There is a privateer going to sail, tomorrow; so if you want to send letters home, or to order anything to be sent out to you, you had better take the opportunity.  Have you got everything you want, for the next two or three years?”

“Two or three years!” Carrie repeated, in tones of alarm.  “You mean two or three months.”

“Indeed, and I don’t.  If the French and the Dons have made up their mind to take this place, and once set to fairly to do it, they are bound to stick to it for a bit.  I should say you ought to provide for three years.”

“But that is downright nonsense, Teddy.  Why, in three months there ought to be a fleet here that would drive all the French and Spaniards away.”

“Well, if you say there ought to be, there ought,” the doctor said, “but where is it to come from?  I was talking to some of the naval men, yesterday; and they all say it will be a long business, if the French and Spanish are in earnest.  The French navy is as strong as ours, and the Spaniards have got nearly as many ships as the French.  We have got to protect our coasts and our trade, to convoy the East Indian fleets, and to be doing something all over the world; and they doubt whether it would be possible to get together a fleet that could hope to defeat the French and Spanish navies, combined.

“Well, have you been laying in stores, Mrs. O’Halloran?”

“Yes, we have bought two sacks of flour, and fifty pounds of sugar; ten pounds of tea, and a good many other things.”

“If you will take my advice,” the doctor said earnestly, “you will lay in five times as much.  Say ten sacks of flour, two hundred-weight of sugar, and everything else in proportion.  Those sort of things haven’t got up in price, yet; but you will see, everything will rise as soon as the blockade begins in earnest.”

“No, the prices of those things have not gone up much; but fruit is three times the price it was, a fortnight ago, and chickens and eggs are double, and vegetables are hardly to be bought.”

“That is the worst of it,” the doctor said.  “It’s the vegetables that I am thinking of.”

“Well, we can do without vegetables,” Mrs. O’Halloran laughed, “as long as we have plenty of bread.”

“It is just that you can’t do.  You see, we shall be cut off from Tangier ­maybe tomorrow, maybe a fortnight hence ­but we shall be cut off.  A ship may run in sometimes, at night, but you can’t count upon that; and it is salt meat that we are going to live upon and, if you live on salt meat, you have got to have vegetables or fruit to keep you in health.

“Now, I tell you what I should do, Gerald, and I am not joking with you.  In the first place, I would make an arrangement with the people downstairs, and I would hire their garden from them.  I don’t suppose they would want much for it, for they make no use of it, except to grow a few flowers.  Then I would go down the town, and I would buy up all the chickens I could get.  There are plenty of them to be picked up, if you look about for them, for most of the people who have got a bit of ground keep a few fowls.  Get a hundred of them, if you can, and turn them into the garden.  Buy up twenty sacks, if you like, of damaged biscuits.  You can get them for an old song.  The commissariat have been clearing out their stores, and there are a lot of damaged biscuits to be sold, by auction, tomorrow.  You would get twenty sacks for a few shillings.

“That way you will get a good supply of eggs, if the siege lasts ever so long; and you can fence off a bit of the garden, and raise fowls there.  That will give you a supply of fresh meat, and any eggs and poultry you can’t eat yourselves you can sell for big prices.  You could get a chicken, three weeks ago, at threepence.  Never mind if you have to pay a shilling for them, now; they will be worth five shillings, before long.

“If you can rent another bit of garden, anywhere near, I would take it.  If not, I would hire three or four men to collect earth, and bring it up here.  This is a good, big place; I suppose it is thirty feet by sixty.  Well, I would just leave a path from the door, there, up to this end; and a spare place, here, for your chairs; and I would cover the rest of it with earth, nine inches or a foot deep; and I would plant vegetables.”

“Do you mane we are to grow cabbages here, Teddy?” Captain O’Halloran asked, with a burst of laughter.

“No, I wouldn’t grow cabbages.  I would just grow mustard, and cress, and radishes.  If you eat plenty of them, they will keep off scurvy; and all you don’t want for yourselves, I will guarantee you will be able to sell at any price you like to ask for them and, if nobody else will buy them, the hospitals will.  They would be the saving of many a man’s life.”

“But they would want watering,” Captain O’Halloran said, more seriously, for he saw how much the doctor was in earnest.

“They will that.  You will have no difficulty in hiring a man to bring up water, and to tend to them and to look after the fowls.  Men will be glad enough to work for next to nothing.

“I tell you, Gerald, if I wasn’t in the service, I should hire every bit of land I could lay hands on, and employ as many labourers as it required; and I should look to be a rich man, before the end of the siege.  I was speaking to the chief surgeon today about it; and he is going to put the convalescents to work, on a bit of spare ground there is at the back of the hospital, and to plant vegetables.

“I was asking down the town yesterday and I found that, at Blount’s store, you can get as much vegetable seed as you like.  You lay in a stock, today, of mustard and cress and radish.  Don’t be afraid of the expense ­get twenty pounds of each of them.  You will be always able to sell what you don’t want, at ten times the price you give for it now.  If you can get a piece more garden ground, take it at any price and raise other vegetables; but keep the top of the house here for what I tell you.

“Well, I said nine inches deep of earth; that is more than necessary.  Four and a half will do for the radishes, and two is enough for the mustard and cress.  That will grow on a blanket ­it is really only water that it wants.”

“What do you think, Carrie?” Captain O’Halloran asked.

“Well, Gerald, if you really believe the siege is going to last like that, I should think that it would be really worth while to do what Teddy Burke advises.  Of course, you will be too busy to look after things, but Bob might do so.”

“Of course I would,” Bob broke in.  “It will give me something to do.”

“Well, we will set about it at once, then.  I will speak to the man downstairs.  You know he has got two or three horses and traps down in the town, and lets them to people driving out across the lines; but of course he has nothing to do, now, and I should think that he would be glad enough to arrange to look after the fowls and the things up here.

“The garden is a good size.  I don’t think anything could get out through that prickly pear hedge but, anyhow, any gaps there are can be stopped up with stakes.  I think it is a really good idea and, if I can get a couple of hundred fowls, I will.  I should think there was plenty of room for them, in the garden.  I will set up as a poultry merchant.”

“You might do worse, Gerald.  I will bet you a gallon of whisky they will be selling at ten shillings a couple, before this business is over; and there is no reason in the world why you should not turn an honest penny ­it will be a novelty to you.”

“Well, I will go down the town, at once,” Gerald said, “and get the seeds and the extra stores you advise, Teddy; and tomorrow I will go to the commissariat sale, and buy a ton or two of those damaged biscuits.  We will take another room from them, downstairs, as a storeroom for that and the eggs; and I will get a carpenter to come up and put a fence, and make some runs and a bit of a shelter for the sitting hens, and the chickens.  Bob shall do the purchasing.

“You had better get a boy with a big basket to go with you, Bob; and go round to the cottages, to buy up fowls.  Mind, don’t let them sell you nothing but cocks ­one to every seven or eight hens is quite enough; and don’t let them foist off old hens on you ­the younger they are, the better.  I should say that, at first, you had better take Manola with you, if Carrie can spare her; then you won’t get taken in, and you will soon learn to tell the difference between an old hen and a young chicken.”

“When you are buying the seed, O’Halloran,” said Dr. Burke, “you would do well to get a few cucumbers, and melons, and pumpkins.  They will grow on the roof, splendidly.  And you can plant them near the parapet, where they will grow down over the sides, so they won’t take up much room; and you can pick them with a ladder.  The pumpkin is a good vegetable, and the fowls will thank you for a bit to pick, when you can spare one.  They will all want manure, but you get plenty of that, from the fowl yard.”

“Why, Teddy, there seems no end to your knowledge,” Mrs. O’Halloran said.  “First of all, you turn out to be a schoolmaster; and now you are a gardener, and poultry raiser.  And to think I never gave you credit for knowing anything, except medicine.”

“You haven’t got to the bottom of it yet, Mrs. O’Halloran.  My head is just stored with knowledge, only it isn’t always that I have a chance of making it useful.  I would be just the fellow to be cast on a desert island.  There is no saying what I wouldn’t do towards making myself comfortable there.

“But I do know about scurvy, for I made a voyage in a whaler, before I got His Majesty’s commission to kill and slay in the army; and I know how necessary vegetables are.  I only wish we had known what the Spaniards were up to, a month since.  We would have got a cargo of oranges and lemons.  They would have been worth their weight in silver.”

“But they wouldn’t have kept, Teddy.”

“No, not for long; but we would have squeezed them, and put sugar into the juice, and bottled it off.  If the general had consulted me, that is what he would have been after, instead of seeing about salt meat and biscuits.  We shall get plenty of them, from ships that run in ­I have no fear of that ­but it is the acids will be wanting.”

As soon as dinner was over, Captain O’Halloran went downstairs; and had no difficulty in arranging, with the man below, for the entire use of his garden.  An inspection was made of the hedge, and the man agreed to close up all gaps that fowls could possibly creep through.  He was also quite willing to let off a room for storage, and his wife undertook to superintend the management of the young broods, and sitting hens.  Having arranged this, Captain O’Halloran went down into the town to make his purchases.

A quarter of an hour later Bob started with Manola, carrying a large basket, and both were much amused at their errand.  Going among the cottages scattered over the hill above the town, they had no difficulty in obtaining chickens and fowls ­the former at about five pence apiece, the latter at seven pence ­such prices being more than double the usual rates.  Manola’s basket was soon full and, while she was taking her purchases back to the house, Bob hired two boys with baskets and, before evening, nearly a hundred fowls were running in the garden.

The next day Bob was considered sufficiently experienced to undertake the business alone and, in two more days, the entire number of two hundred had been made up.  Three of the natives had been engaged in collecting baskets of earth among the rocks and, in a week, the terrace was converted into a garden ready for the seeds.  As yet vegetables, although very dear, had not risen to famine prices; for although the town had depended chiefly upon the produce of the mainland, many of the natives had grown small patches of vegetables in their gardens for their own use, and these they now disposed of at prices that were highly satisfactory to themselves.

O’Halloran’s farm ­as they called it, as soon as they heard, from him, what he was doing ­became quite a joke in the regiment; but several of the other married officers, who had similar facilities for keeping fowls, adopted the idea to some extent, and started with a score or so of fowls.

“I wonder you didn’t think of pigs, O’Halloran,” one of the captains said, laughing, as they were talking over the farm in the mess anteroom; “pigs and potatoes.  The idea of you and Burke, both from the sod, starting a farm; and not thinking, first, of the two chief national products.”

“There is not room for praties, Sinclair; and as for pigs, there are many reasons against it.  In the first place, I doubt whether I could buy any.  In the second, there isn’t room for them.  In the third, what should I give them to keep them alive?  In the fourth, pigs are illigant bastes but, in a hot country like this, I should not care for a stye of them under my drawing room window.  In the fifth ­”

“That will do, that will do, O’Halloran.  We give way.  We allow that you could not keep pigs, but it is a pity.”

“It is that, Sinclair.  There is nothing would please me better than to see a score of nice little pigs, with a nate stye, and a magazine of food big enough to keep them, say, for a year.”

“Three months, O’Halloran, would be ample.”

“Well, we shall see, Sinclair.  Teddy Burke says three years, but I do hope it is not going to be as long as that.”

“Begorra!” another Irish officer, Captain O’Moore, exclaimed; “if it is three years we are going to be here, we had best be killed and buried at once.  I have been all the morning in the Queen’s Battery, where my company has been slaving like haythens, with the sun coming down as if it would fry your brain in your skull pan; and if that is to go on, day after day, for three years, I should be dead in a month!”

“That is nothing, O’Moore.  If the siege goes on, they say the officers will have to help at the work.”

“I shall protest against it.  There is not a word in the articles of war about officers working.  I am willing enough to be shot by the Spaniards, but not to be killed by inches.  No, sir, there is not an O’Moore ever did a stroke of work, since the flood; and I am not going to demean myself by beginning.

“What are you laughing at, young Repton?”

“I was only wondering, Captain O’Moore, how your ancestors got through the flood.  Unless, indeed, Noah was an O’Moore.”

“There is reason to believe that he was,” the captain said, seriously.  “It must have been that, if he hadn’t a boat of his own, or found a mountain that the water didn’t cover.  I have got the tree of the family at home; and an old gentleman who was learned in these things came to the house, when I was a boy; and I remember right well that he said to my father, after reckoning them up, that the first of the house must have had a place there in Ireland well-nigh a thousand years before Adam.

“I don’t think my father quite liked it but, for the life of me, I couldn’t see why.  It was just what I should expect from the O’Moores.  Didn’t they give kings to Ireland, for generations?  And what should they want to be doing, out among those rivers in the East, when there was Ireland, ready to receive them?”

Captain O’Moore spoke so seriously that Bob did not venture to laugh, but listened with an air of gravity equal to that of the officer.

“You will kill me altogether, Phelim!” Captain O’Halloran exclaimed; amid a great shout of laughter, in which all the others joined.

The O’Moore looked round, speechless with indignation.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “I shall expect satisfaction for this insult.  The word of an O’Moore has never been doubted.

“Captain O’Halloran, my friend will call upon you, first.”

“He may call as often as he likes, O’Moore, and I shall be happy to converse with any friend of yours but, at present, that is all the satisfaction you will get out of me.  Duelling is strictly forbidden on the Rock, and there is no getting across the Spanish lines to fight ­unless, indeed, you can persuade the governor to send out a flag of truce with us.  So we must let the matter rest, till the siege is over; and then, if both of us are alive, and you have the same mind, we will talk about it.”

“I think, O’Moore,” Dr. Burke, who had entered the room two or three minutes before, said persuasively, “you will see that you are the last man who ought to maintain that the first of your race lived here, as far back as Adam.  You see, we are all direct descendants of Adam ­I mean, all the rest of us.”

“No doubt you are,” Captain O’Moore said, stiffly.

“And one has just as much right as another to claim that he is the heir, in a direct line.”

“I suppose so, Burke,” the officer said, “though, for the life of me, I can’t see what you are driving at.”

“What I mean is this.  Suppose Adam and the O’Moore started at the same time, one in Ireland and the other in Eden; and they had an equal number of children, as was likely enough.  Half the people in the world would be descendants of Adam, and the other half of the O’Moore and, you see, instead of your being the O’Moore ­the genuine descendant, in the direct line, from the first of the family ­half the world would have an equal claim to the title.”

Captain O’Moore reflected for a minute or two.

“You are right, Dr. Burke,” he said.  “I never saw it in that light.  It is clear enough that you are right, and that the less we say about the O’Moores before the first Irish king of that name, the better.  There must have been some mistake about that tree I spoke of.

“Captain O’Halloran, I apologize.  I was wrong.”

The two officers shook hands, and peace was restored; but Captain O’Moore was evidently a good deal puzzled, and mortified, by the problem the doctor had set before him and, after remaining silent for some time, evidently in deep thought, he left the room.  Some of the others watched him from the window, until he had entered the door of his own quarters; and then there was a general shout of laughter.

“The O’Moore will be the death of me!” Teddy Burke exclaimed, as he threw himself back in a chair, exhausted.  “He is one of the best fellows going, but you can lead him on into anything.  I don’t suppose he ever gave a thought to the O’Moores, anywhere further back than those kings.  He had a vague idea that they must have been going on, simply because it must have seemed to him that a world without an O’Moore in it would be necessarily imperfect.  It was Bob Repton’s questions, as to what they were doing at the time of the flood, that brought him suddenly up; then he didn’t hesitate for a moment in taking them back to Adam, or before him.  Just on the ancestry of the O’Moores, Phelim has got a tile a little loose; but on all other points, he is as sensible as anyone in the regiment.”

“I wonder you didn’t add, ‘and that is not saying much,’ doctor,” one of the lieutenants said.

“I may have thought it, youngster; but you see, I must have made exceptions in favour of myself and the colonel, so I held my tongue.  The fact that we are all here, under a sun hot enough to cook a beefsteak; and that for the next two or three years we are going to have to work like niggers, and to be shot at by the Spaniards, and to be pretty well ­if not quite ­starved, speaks for itself as to the amount of sense we have got between us.

“There go the drums!  Now, gentlemen, you have got the pleasure of a couple of hours’ drill before you, and I am due at the hospital.”