particular locality into which he had
penetrated--though well enough acquainted with the main thoroughfares of
the city--his only care was to put as many intricate streets and lanes
as possible between himself and the detectives. This was soon done, and
thereafter, turning into a darkish passage, he got rid of the paint-pot
and borrowed costume.

Fortunately he had thrust his own soft helmet-shaped cap into his breast
at the time he put on the billycock, and was thus enabled to issue from
the dark passage very much like his former self, with the exception of a
few spots of whitewash, which were soon removed.

Feeling now pretty safe, our hero walked a considerable distance through
the unknown parts of the city, before he ventured to inquire the way to
thoroughfares with which he was familiar. Once in these, he proceeded
at a smart pace to one of the railway stations, intending to leave town,
though as yet he had formed no definite plan of action. In truth, his
mind was much troubled and confused by the action of his conscience, for
when the thought of leaving home and entering the army as a private
soldier, against his father's wishes, crossed his mind, Conscience
faithfully shook his head; and when softer feelings prevailed, and the
question arose irresistibly, "Shall I return home?" the same faithful
friend whispered, "Yes."

In a state of indecision, Miles found himself borne along by a human
stream to the booking-office. Immediately in front of him were two
soldiers,--one a sergeant, and the other a private of the line.

Both were tall handsome men, straight as arrows, and with that air of
self-sufficient power which is as far removed from arrogance as it is
from cowardice, and is by no means an uncommon feature in men of the
British army.

Miles felt a strong, unaccountable attraction towards the young private.
He had not yet heard his voice nor encountered his eye; indeed, being
behind him, he had only seen his side-face, and as the expression on it
was that of stern gravity, the attractive power could not have lain in
that. It might have lain in the youthful look of the lad, for albeit a
goodly man in person, he was almost a boy in countenance, being
apparently not yet twenty years of age.

Miles was at last roused to the necessity for prompt and decisive action
by the voice of the sergeant saying in tones of authority--

"Portsmouth--third--two--single."

"That's the way to go it, lobster!" remark