In spite of the unremitting work, of the daily cannonade, of illness and hardship, life on the Rock had not been unpleasant to the O’Hallorans.  Although many of the officers’ wives had, at one time or another, taken advantage of ships sailing from the port to return home ­or rather, to endeavour to do so, for a considerable number of the vessels that left were captured by the Spaniards, before getting through the Straits ­there still remained sufficient for agreeable society; and the O’Hallorans’ was, more than any other house, the general meeting place.

From its position in the hollow, it was sheltered from the fire of all the shore batteries ­whose long distance shots searched all the lower parts of the Rock ­while the resources of the establishment enabled the O’Hallorans to afford an open-handed hospitality that would have been wholly beyond the means of others.  They had long since given up selling any of their produce, distributing all their surplus eggs among families where there was illness, or sending them up to the hospitals; and doing the same with their chickens, and vegetables.  The greatest care was bestowed upon the poultry, fresh broods being constantly raised, so that they could kill eight or ten couple a week, and still keep up their stock to its full strength.  Thus, with gatherings two evenings a week at their own house, and usually as many at the houses of their friends; while Captain O’Halloran and Bob frequently dined at the mess of their own, or other regiments, the time passed pleasantly.

While Carrie was fully occupied with the care of the house, and a general superintendence of what they called their farm; Bob was never at a loss for amusement.  There was always something to see, some fresh work being executed, some fresh development in the defences; while he was on terms of friendship with almost every officer in the garrison.  It was two years and a half since he had come out, and he was now eighteen.  His constant intercourse with people older than himself, and with the officers of the garrison, together with the exceptional position in which he found himself, made him in some respects seem older than he was; but he still retained his liveliness, and love of fun.  His spirits never flagged, and he was a general favourite with all who knew him.

On the 19th of August, a boat with a flag of truce brought in a complimentary letter from the Duc de Crillon to the governor, informing him of the arrival of the Comte D’Artois and the Duc de Bourbon in his camp, and sending him a present of ice, fruit, partridges, and other delicacies.  The governor returned a letter in similar complimentary terms, thanking the Duke for his letter and the presents; but declining with thanks the supplies that had been offered, saying that he never received, for himself, anything beyond what was common to the garrison.

The sailors of the ships of war now pitched tents ashore, for their use when they should be ordered to land to take part in the defence; and the heavy guns were, for the most part, moved down from the upper batteries to the sea lines.  Day after day passed, the bombardment being constantly expected; but the damage inflicted, by fire, on the enemy’s works by our carcasses delayed the attack.

On the 8th of September a tremendous fire was suddenly opened, with red hot shot and carcasses, upon the enemy’s works.  The Mahon Battery was burned, while the San Carlos and San Marten Batteries were so damaged that they had almost to be rebuilt.  The enemy, as on previous occasions, showed extreme bravery in their efforts to extinguish the fire and to repair damages; and it was afterwards known that the French troops, alone, had a hundred and forty killed and wounded.  The damage done probably convinced the Duc de Crillon that no advantage could be hoped for by trying further to increase his works and, at half past five next morning, a volley of sixty shells was fired by their mortar batteries, followed by the discharge of one hundred and seventy pieces of heavy artillery.

This tremendous fire was kept up for some time, while nine line-of-battle ships, supported by fifteen gun and mortar boats, passed to and fro along the sea face, pouring in their fire upon us.  At nightfall the enemy’s guns ceased firing, but their mortars kept up their shell fire all night.  The next day the ships of war renewed their attack, as did the land batteries.  In the course of the day the Brilliant and Porcupine frigates were scuttled by the navy, alongside the New Mole, and their crews landed.

On the following day the enemy’s fire was principally directed against the barrier and chevaux de frise in front of the land port and, in the afternoon, these barriers and palisades were all in flames; and the troops at that end of the Rock got under arms, in case an attack should be made.

On the morning of the 12th the combined fleets of France and Spain, consisting of thirty-eight men-of-war, three frigates, and a number of smaller craft, sailed into the bay and anchored near Algeciras.  Their fleet now consisted of forty-seven men-of-war, ten battering ships ­considered invincible, and carrying two hundred and twelve guns ­and innumerable frigates and small ships of war; while on the land side were batteries mounting two hundred heavy guns, and an army of forty thousand men.  Tremendous odds, indeed, against a fortress whose garrison consisted of seven thousand effective men, including the Marine Brigade.

For some days past Bob had been engaged, with their landlord and some hired labourers, in bringing in earth and filling up the lower rooms four feet deep, in order to render the cellars bomb proof.  Some beds and furniture were taken below, so that Carrie, the servants, and the Spanish family could retire there, in case the enemy’s shells fell thickly round the house.

It was noticed as a curious incident that, just as the combined fleet entered the bay an eagle, after circling round it, perched for a few minutes upon the summit of the flag post, on the highest point of the Rock; an omen of victory which would have been considered decisive, by the Romans, and which did, in fact, help to raise the spirits and confidence of the garrison.

On the morning of the 13th the enemy’s battering ships got under way, with a gentle breeze from the northwest and, at a little past nine o’clock anchored, in admirable order, in line of the sea face.  The nearest was about nine hundred yards from the King’s Bastion, the most distant being about eleven hundred yards.  Not a shot was fired before the enemy anchored, and then the whole of the batteries that commanded them opened fire, to which the battering ships and the artillery in their lines at once replied.

Bob was standing on the roof of the house, with his sister.

“What a magnificent sight, Carrie!” he exclaimed.  “It is well worth all the waiting, to be here to see it.”

“It is terrible!” Carrie said.  “It is like one great roar of thunder.  How awfully the men must be suffering, in the batteries!”

“I don’t suppose it is as bad as it looks,” Bob said.  “At any rate, you needn’t be uneasy about Gerald.  All the troops except those working the guns are in shelter, and won’t be called out unless the enemy attempt to land.

“I wonder their fleet don’t come across, to help their batteries.  I suppose they are afraid of the carcasses, and red hot shot.

“Well, there is one comfort, Carrie - none of their shot are coming this way.  Their floating batteries, evidently, are firing only at our batteries by the water.  As to the others, we know that we are safe enough from them though, certainly, the shot do make a most unpleasant noise as they fly overhead.

“I wish there was a little more wind, to blow away the smoke, so that we could see what effect our fire is having on those hulks.  I shouldn’t think that we had begun with red hot shot, yet.  It takes three hours to get them hot enough.  As far as I can see, whenever the wind blows the smoke away a little, our shot and shell roll off the roofs and sides, without doing any damage to speak of.”

About noon the enemy’s mortar boats and ketches attempted to come across, and assist their battering ships; but the wind had changed and had worked round to the southwest, blowing a smart breeze and bringing in a heavy swell, so that they were prevented from taking part in the action.  Our own gunboats were hindered, by the same cause, from putting out and opening a flanking fire upon the battering ships.

The northern batteries, by the water, suffered heavily from the fire of the Spanish lines; which took them in flank and, indeed, some of the batteries in reverse, causing many casualties.  The Artillery, however, refused to let their attention be diverted from the battering ships.

By two o’clock the furnaces had heated the shot in all the batteries and, although some of them had been firing these missiles for upwards of an hour, it was not until two that their use became general.  Soon afterwards ­when the wind cleared away the smoke from the ships ­men could be seen on their sloping roofs, directing streams of water from the pumps upon small wreaths of smoke that curled up, here and there.  Up to this time, the defenders had begun to fear that the craft were indeed as invulnerable as the Spaniards believed them to be; but these evidences that the red hot shot were doing their work greatly roused their spirits, and cheers frequently rose, as the men toiled at their heavy guns.

As the afternoon went on, the smoke from the upper part of the Spanish admiral’s flagship rose more and more thickly and, although numbers of men continued to bring up and throw water over the roof ­working with extraordinary bravery, in spite of the hail of projectiles poured upon them ­it was clear that the fire was making steady progress.

Bob had, long before this, gone down to the works by the sea face ­where considerable bodies of troops were lying, in the bombproof casemates, in readiness for action if called upon ­and from time to time he went out with Captain O’Halloran, and other officers, to see how matters were going on.

In sheltered places behind the batteries, some of the surgeons were at work; temporarily binding up the wounds of artillerymen struck with shell, or splinters; after which they were carried, by stretcher parties of the infantry, up to the hospitals.  Dr. Burke was thus engaged, in the battery where his regiment was stationed.  He had, since the first bombardment commenced, ceased to complain of the want of opportunities for exercising himself in his professional work; and had been indefatigable in his attendance on the wounded.  Among them he was an immense favourite.  He had a word, and a joke, for every man who came under his hands; while his confident manner and cheery talk kept up the spirits of the men.  He was, too, a very skilful operator; and many of the poor fellows in hospital had urgently requested that, if they must lose a limb, it should be under the hands of Dr. Burke.

“It is much better to make men laugh, than to make them cry,” he would say to Bob.  “It is half the battle gained, when you can keep up a patient’s spirit.  It is wonderful how some of them stand pain.  The hard work they have been doing is all in their favour.”

Bob several times went out to him, and assisted him as far as he could, by handing him bandages, sponges, etc.

“You ought to have been an assistant, from the beginning, Bob,” he said.  “By this time you would have been quite a decent surgeon ­only you have a silly way of turning pale.  There, hand me that bandage.

“All right, my man!  We will have you patched up in no time.

“No, I don’t think you can go back to your gun again.  You will have to eat and drink a bit, and make fresh blood, before you will be much use at a thirty-two pounder again.

“What is this ­a scalp wound?  Splinter of a shell, eh?  Well, it is lucky for you, lad, that you have been hardening your skull a bit, before you enlisted.  A few clips from a blackthorn are capital preparation.  I don’t think you will come to much harm.  You are not more hurt than you would be in a good, lively faction fight.

“There, you had better put down that sponge, Bob, and go into the casemate, for a bit.  You are getting white again.

“I think we are over the worst now; for if, as you tell me, the smoke is beginning to come up from some of those floating batteries, their fire will soon slacken a bit.  As long as they keep out the shot, those defences of theirs are first rate but, as soon as the shot begin to embed themselves in the roof, they are worse than nothing ­for they can neither dig out the shot, nor get at them with the water.  Once establish a fire, and it is pretty sure to spread.”

Bob was glad to get back again into the bombproof casemates; for there was comparative quiet while, outside, the constant roar of the guns, the howl of shot, the explosion of shell, and the crash of masonry created a din that was almost bewildering.

Presently a cheer was heard in the battery, and Bob went out to see what it was; and returned with the news that the ship next to the Spanish admiral’s was also smoking, in several places.  As the afternoon went on, confusion was apparent on board several of the battering ships and, by the evening, their fire had slackened considerably.  Before eight o’clock it had almost entirely ceased, except from one or two ships to the northward of the line which, being somewhat farther from the shore, had suffered less than the others.

At sunset the Artillery in our batteries were relieved ­the Naval Brigade taking their place ­and the fire was continued, without relaxation.  As soon as it became dark, rockets were fired by several of the battering ships.  These were answered by the Spanish men-of-war, and many boats rowed across to the floating batteries.  By ten o’clock the flames began to burst out from the admiral’s battering ship and, by midnight, she was completely in flames.  The light assisted our gunners ­who were able to lay their cannon with as much accuracy as during the daytime ­and the whole Rock was illuminated by the flames.  These presently burst out, vigorously, from the next ship and, between three and four o’clock, points of light appeared upon six of the other hulks.

At three o’clock Brigadier Curtis ­who commanded the Naval Brigade encamped at Europa Point ­finding that the sea had gone down, manned the gunboats and, rowing out for some distance, opened a heavy flanking fire upon the battering ships; compelling the boats that were lying in shelter behind them to retire.  As the day broke he captured two of the enemy’s launches and, finding from the prisoners that there were still numbers of men on board the hulks, rowed out to rescue them.  While he was employed at this work, at five o’clock, one of the battering ships to the northward blew up, with a tremendous explosion and, a quarter of an hour later, another in the centre of the line also blew up.  The wreck was scattered over a wide extent of water.

One of the gunboats was sunk, and another seriously injured; and the Brigadier, fearing other explosions, ordered the boats to draw off towards the town.  On the way, however, he visited two of the other burning ships; and rescued some more of those left behind ­landing, in all, nine officers, two priests, and three hundred and thirty-four soldiers and seamen.  Besides these, one officer and eleven Frenchmen had floated ashore, the evening before, on the shattered fragments of a launch.

While the boats in the navy were thus endeavouring to save their foes, the land batteries ­which had ceased firing on the previous evening ­again opened on the garrison; but as, from some of the camps, the boats could be perceived at their humane work, orders were despatched to the batteries to cease fire; and a dead silence succeeded the din that had gone on for nearly twenty-four hours.

Of the six battering ships still in flames, three blew up before eleven o’clock.  The other three burned to the water’s edge ­the magazines having been drowned, by the Spaniards, before they left the ships in their boats.  The garrison hoped that the two remaining battering ships might be saved, to be sent home as trophies of the victory but, about noon, one of them suddenly burst into flames, and presently blew up.  The other was examined by the men-of-war boats, and found to be so injured that she could not be saved.  She was accordingly set fire to, and also destroyed.  Thus, the whole of the ten vessels, that were considered by their constructors to be invincible, were destroyed.

The loss of the enemy, in killed and prisoners, was estimated at two thousand; while the casualties of the garrison were astonishingly small, consisting only of one officer and fifteen non-commissioned officers and men killed, and five officers and sixty-three men wounded.  Very little damage was done to the works.  It is supposed that the smoke enveloping the vessels prevented accurate aim.  The chief object of the attack was to silence the King’s Bastion and, upon this, two of the largest ships concentrated their fire; while the rest endeavoured to effect a breach in the wall between that battery, and the battery next to it.

The enemy had three hundred heavy cannon engaged, while the garrison had a hundred and six cannon and mortars.  The distance at which the batteries were moored from the shore was greatly in favour of the efforts of our artillery; as the range was almost point blank, and the guns did not require to be elevated.  Thus, the necessity for using two wads between the powder and the red-hot balls was obviated, and the gunners were able to fire much more rapidly than they would otherwise have done.  The number of the Spanish soldiers on board the battery ships was 5260, in addition to the sailors required to work the ships.

Great activity was manifested, by the Spaniards, on the day following the failure of their bombardment; and large numbers of men were employed in bringing up fresh ammunition to their batteries.  Many of the men-of-war also got under way.  Major Harcourt, Doctor Burke, and two or three other officers stood watching the movements from the O’Hallorans’ terrace.

“I should have thought that they had had enough of it,” Doctor Burke said.  “If those battering ships couldn’t withstand our fire, what chance would their men-of-war have?

“See!  They are just as busy on the land side, and the 71st has been ordered to send down extra guards to the land port.  I should have thought they had given it up, as a bad job, this time.”

“I have no doubt they have given it up, doctor,” Major Harcourt said; “but they are not likely to say so, just yet.  After all the preparations that have been made; and the certainty expressed, about our capture, by the allied armies and navies of France and Spain; and having two or three royal princes down here, to grace the victory; you don’t suppose they are going to acknowledge to the world that they are beaten.  I should have thought you would have known human nature better than that, doctor.

“You will see De Crillon will send a pompous report of the affair; saying that the battering ships were found, owing to faults in their construction, to be of far less utility than had been expected and that, therefore, they had been burned.  They had, however, inflicted enormous loss upon the garrison and defences; and the siege would now be taken up by the army and fleet, and vigorously pushed to a successful termination.

“That will be the sort of thing, I would bet a month’s pay.  The last thing a Spanish commander will confess is that he is beaten; and I think it likely enough that they will carry on the siege for months, yet, so as to keep up appearances.  In fact, committed as they are to it, I don’t see how they can give it up, without making themselves the laughingstock of Europe.  But, now that they find they have no chance of getting the object for which they went to war, I fancy you will see, before very long, they will begin to negotiate for peace.”

The major’s anticipations were verified.  For some time the siege was carried on with considerable vigour ­from a thousand to twelve hundred shots being fired, daily, into the fortress.  Their works on the neutral ground were pushed forward; and an attempt was made, at night, to blow out a portion of the face of the Rock, by placing powder in a cave ­but the attempt was detected.

The position of the garrison became more comfortable after a British fleet arrived, with two more regiments and a large convoy of merchantmen; but nothing of any importance took place till, on the 2d of February, 1782, the Duc de Crillon sent in to say that the preliminaries of a general peace had been signed, by Great Britain, France, and Spain and, three days later, the blockade at sea was discontinued, and the port of Gibraltar again open.

Bob Repton, however, was not present at the concluding scenes of the great drama.  Satisfied, after the failure of the bombardment, that there would be no more serious fighting, and that the interest of the siege was at an end; he took advantage of the arrival of the Antelope in the bay, a few days after the engagement, to return in her to England.  He had now been two years and eight months on the Rock, and felt that he ought to go home, to take his place with his uncle.

He had benefited greatly by his stay in Gibraltar.  He had acquired the Spanish language thoroughly and, in other respects, had carried on his studies under the direction of Doctor Burke; and had employed much of his leisure time with instructive reading.  Mixing so much with the officers of the garrison, he had acquired a good manner and address.  He had been present at the most memorable siege of the times, and had gained the credit of having ­though but a volunteer ­his name twice placed in general orders for good services.  He had landed a school boy; he was now a well-built young fellow, of medium height and powerful frame; but he had retained his boyish, frank good humour, and his love of fun.

“I trust that we shall be back in England, before long,” his sister said to him.  “Everyone expects that Spain will make peace, before many months are over, and it is likely that the regiments who have gone through the hardships of the siege will soon be relieved; so I hope that, in a year or two, we may be ordered home again.”

There was a great deal of regret expressed, when it was known that Bob Repton was going home; for he had always been ready to do any acts of kindness in his power ­especially to children, of whom he was very fond ­and it was not forgotten that his daring enterprise, in going out alone to fetch in fruit, had saved many of their lives.  Amy Harcourt’s eyes were very red, when he went up to say goodbye to her and her mother, an hour before he sailed; and the farewells were spoken with quivering lips.

The Antelope evaded the enemy’s cruisers near the Rock, and made a quick passage to England, without adventure.  She had made two or three good prizes, up the Spanish coast, before she put into Gibraltar on her way home.  Captain Lockett, therefore, did not go out of his way to look for more.

On arriving at Portsmouth, Bob at once went up to London by coach.  He had no lack of clothes, having purchased the effects of an officer, of nearly his own build and stature, who had been killed a short time before.  On alighting from the coach he walked to Philpot Lane, and went straight into the counting house.  His old acquaintance, Jack Medlin, was sitting on the stool his father had formerly occupied; and Bob was greatly amused at the air of gravity on his face.

“Do you wish to see Mr. Bale, or Mr. Medlin, sir?” he asked, “Or can I take your orders?”

“You are a capital imitator of your father, Jack,” Bob said, as he brought his hand down heavily on the shoulder of the young clerk; who stared at him in astonishment.

“Why, it is Bob ­I mean, Mr. Repton!” he exclaimed.

“It’s Bob Repton, Jack, sure enough; and glad I am to see you.  Why, it is nearly three years since we met; and we have both altered a good bit, since then.

“Well, is my uncle in?”

“No, he is out, at present; but my father is in the inner office.”

Bob strode into the inner office, and greeted Mr. Medlin as heartily as he had done his son; and Mr. Medlin, for the first time since he had entered Philpot Lane, as a boy, forgot that he was within the sacred precincts of the city and, for at least ten minutes, laughed and talked as freely and unrestrainedly as if he had been out at Highgate.

“Your uncle will be delighted to see you back,” he said.  “He is for ever talking about you; and there wasn’t a prouder man in the city of London than he was, when the despatches were published and your name appeared, twice, as having rendered great service.  He became a little afraid, at one time, that you might take to soldiering, altogether.  But I told him that I thought there was no fear of that.  After you had once refused to take a midshipman’s berth ­with its prospect of getting away from school ­I did not think it likely that you would be tempted, now.”

“No; the General told Captain O’Halloran that he would get me a commission, if I liked; but I had not the least ambition that way.  I have had a fine opportunity of seeing war, and have had a jolly time of it; and now I am quite ready to settle down, here.”

Mr. Bale was delighted, on his return, to find Bob.  It was just the hour for closing, and he insisted upon Mr. Medlin stopping to take supper with him.  Bob had written, whenever there was an opportunity of sending letters; but many of these had never come to hand, and there was much to tell, and talk about.

“Well, I am thoroughly satisfied with the success of our experiment, Mr. Medlin,” Mr. Bale said, next day.  “Bob has turned out exactly what I hoped he would ­a fine young fellow, and a gentleman.  He has excellent manners, and yet there is nothing foppish, or affected about him.”

“I had no fear of that, with Bob, Mr. Bale; and indeed, Gibraltar during the siege must have been a bad school for anyone to learn that sort of thing.  Military men may amuse themselves with follies of that kind, when they have nothing better to do; but it is thrown aside, and their best qualities come out, when they have such work to do as they have had there.

“Yes, I agree with you, sir.  The experiment has turned out capitally; and your nephew is, in every respect, a far better man than he would have been, if he had been kept mewed up here these three years.  He is a young fellow that anyone ­I don’t care who he is ­might feel proud of.”

So Bob took up his duties in the office, and his only complaint there was that he could hardly find enough to do.  Mr. Bale had relaxed his close attention to the business, since he had taken Mr. Medlin into the firm; but as that gentleman was perfectly capable of carrying it on, single handed, Bob’s share of it was easy enough.  It was not long before he complained to his uncle that he really did not find enough to do.

“Well, Bob, you shall come down with me to a place I have bought, out by Chislehurst.  It is a tidy little estate.  I bought it a year ago.  It is a nice distance from town ­just a pleasant ride, or drive, up.  I am thinking of moving my establishment down there, altogether; and as you will have it some day, I should like your opinion of it.  It isn’t quite ready, yet.  I have been having it thoroughly done up, but the men will be out in a week or two.”

Bob was greatly pleased with the house, which was a fine one, and very pleasantly situated, in large grounds.

“There are seventy or eighty acres of land,” Mr. Bale said.  “They are let to a farmer, at present.  He only has them by the year; and I think it will be an amusement to you to take them in hand, and look after them yourself.  I know a good many people living about here, and I have no doubt we shall have quite as much society as we care for.”

Another month and they were established at Chislehurst, and Bob found the life there very pleasant.  He generally drove his uncle up to town in the morning; getting to the office at ten o’clock, and leaving it at five in the afternoon.  On his return home there was the garden to see about, and the stables.  Very often his uncle brought a city friend or two home with him, for the night; and they soon had a large circle of acquaintances in the neighbourhood.

“I should like you to marry young, Bob,” Mr. Bale said to him one day.  “I did not marry young; and so, you see, I have never married at all; and have wasted my life shockingly, in consequence.  When you are ready to marry, I am ready to give you the means.  Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t forget it, sir,” Bob said, smiling; “and I will try to meet your wishes.”

Mr. Bale looked at him sharply.  Carrie’s letters were long and chatty; and it may be that Mr. Bale had gleaned, from them, some notion of an idea that Carrie and Mrs. Harcourt had in their heads.

Three years later Mr. Bale remarked, as they were driving home: 

“By the way, Bob, I was glad to see, in the paper today, that the 58th is ordered home.”

“Is it, sir?” Bob asked, eagerly.  “I have not looked at the paper today.  I am glad to hear that.  I thought it wouldn’t be long.  But there is never any saying ­they might have been sent somewhere else, instead of being sent home.”

“I hope they will be quartered somewhere within reach,” Mr. Bale said.  “If they are stationed at Cork, or some outlandish place in Ireland, they might almost as well be at Gibraltar, for anything we shall see of them.”

“Oh, we can manage to run over to Cork, uncle.”

“There will be no occasion to do that, Bob.  Captain O’Halloran will be getting leave, soon after he comes over, and then he can bring Carrie here.”

And he smiled slily to himself.

“He mayn’t be able to get leave for some time,” Bob said.  “I think, uncle, I shall run over, directly they arrive.”

“Perhaps the firm won’t be able to spare you,” Mr. Bale remarked.

“It is my opinion the firm would get on just as well, without me, or an indefinite time, uncle.”

“Not at all, Bob.  Mr. Medlin was saying, only a few days ago, that you do quite your share of the work; and that he generally leaves it to you, now, to see country customers when I am out, and thinks the change has been an advantage to the business.  However, if the regiment does go to Ireland ­as is likely enough ­I suppose we must manage to spare you.”

It was indeed soon known that the 58th were, in the first place, to be disembarked at Cork and, one day, Mr. Bale came into the office.

“I have just seen your friend Lockett, Bob; I mean the younger one.  He commands the Antelope now, you know.  His uncle has retired, and bought a place near Southampton, and settled down there.  Young Lockett came up from Portsmouth by the night coach.  He put in at Gibraltar on his way home, and the 58th were to embark three days after he left.  So if you want to meet them when they arrive at Cork, you had better lose no time; but start by the night coach for Bristol, and cross in the packet from there.”

It was a month before Bob returned.  The evening that he did so, he said to his uncle: 

“I think, uncle, you said that you were anxious that I should marry young.”

“That is so, Bob,” Mr. Bale said, gravely.

“Well, uncle, I have been doing my best to carry out your wishes.”

“You don’t mean to say, Bob,” Mr. Bale said, in affected alarm, “that you are going to marry a soldier’s daughter?”

“Well, yes, sir,” Bob said, a little taken aback; “but I don’t know how you guessed it.  It is a young lady I knew in Gibraltar.”

“What, Bob!  Not that girl who went running about with you, dressed up as a boy?”

As this was a portion of his adventures upon which Bob had been altogether reticent, he sat for a moment, confounded.

“Don’t be ashamed of it, Bob,” Mr. Bale said, with a smile, laying his hand kindly on his shoulder.  “Your sister Carrie is an excellent young woman, and it is not difficult to read her thoughts in her letters.  Of course, she told me about your adventure with Miss Harcourt, and she has mentioned her a good many times, since; and it did not need a great deal of discernment to see what Carrie’s opinion was regarding the young lady.  Carrie has her weak points ­as, for example, when she took up with that wild Irishman ­but she has plenty of good sense; and I am sure, by the way she wrote about this Miss Harcourt, that she must be a very charming girl; and I think, Bob, I have been looking forward almost as much, to the regiment coming home, as you have.

“Regarding you as I do, as my son, there is nothing I should like so much as having a bright, pretty daughter-in-law; so you have my hearty consent and approval, even before you ask for it.

“And you found her very nice, Bob ­eh?”

“Very nice, sir,” Bob said, smiling.

“And very pretty, Bob?”

“Very pretty, sir.  I never thought that she would have grown up so pretty.”

“And her head has not been turned by the compliments that she has, of course, received?”

“I don’t think so, sir.  She said her mind has been made up, ever since I brought her back to Gibraltar; so you see, the compliments did not go for much.”

“Well, Bob, I will write to Major Harcourt.  I shall hand you over this place, altogether, and settle down in my old quarters in Philpot Lane.”

“No, no, sir,” Bob said.

“But I say yes, Bob.  I shall keep a room here, and I dare say I shall often use it.  But I have been rather like a fish out of water, since I came here, and shall be well content to fall into my old ways again; knowing that, if I want any change, and bright society, I can come down here.  If I find I am restless there ­which is not likely ­I can buy a little place, and settle down beside you.  As I told you long ago, I am a rich man ­I have been doing nothing but save money, all my life ­and though, as I then said, I should like you to carry on the firm, after I am gone; there will, as far as money goes, be no occasion for you to do so.”

Two months later the three members of the firm went over to Cork, and there a gay wedding was celebrated; and when, at the termination of the honeymoon, Bob returned to Chislehurst, he found Captain O’Halloran and Carrie established there on a month’s leave and, a day or two later, the party was increased by the arrival of Doctor Burke.

Mr. Bale lived for twenty years after Bob’s marriage; the last fifteen of which were passed in a little place he bought, adjoining that of the Reptons and, before he died, he saw four grandchildren ­as he called them ­fast growing up.

General and Mrs. Harcourt also settled down in the neighbourhood, to be near their only daughter, a few years before Mr. Bale’s death.

Doctor Burke remained with the regiment for some years, and then bought a practice in Dublin but, to the end of his life, he paid a visit every three or four years to his former pupil.

Captain O’Halloran obtained the rank of colonel but, losing an arm at the capture of Martinique, in 1794, he retired from the army and settled at Woolwich ­where Carrie was within easy reach of Chislehurst ­having his pension, and a comfortable income which Mr. Bale settled upon Carrie.  At Mr. Bale’s death, it was found that he had left his house at Chislehurst to Carrie; and she and her husband accordingly established themselves there.

Bob, to the end of his life, declared that ­although in all things he had been an exceptionally happy, and fortunate man ­the most fortunate occurrence that ever happened to him was that he should have taken part in the famous Siege of Gibraltar.