Chapter 7:  Venloo.

Upon the 5th dragoons being, with the others lying with it in camp at Breda, ordered up to join the main army at Nimeguen, Rupert was, to his great delight, declared to be sufficiently advanced in his knowledge of drill to take his place regularly in the ranks; and Hugh and the other recruits also fell into their places in the various troops among which they were divided, Hugh being, at Rupert’s request, told off to Captain Lauriston’s troop.  With drums beating and colours flying, the column from Breda marched into the allied camp at Duckenberg in front of Nimeguen, where the troops crowded out to greet this valuable addition of eight infantry regiments and three of cavalry.

Scarcely were the tents pitched than Rupert heard himself heartily saluted, and looking round, saw his friends Lord Fairholm and Sir John Loveday, who being already in camp had at once sought him out.

“By my faith, Master Holliday, the three months have done wonders for you; you look every inch a soldier,” Lord Fairholm said.

“His very moustache is beginning to show,” Sir John Loveday said, laughing.

Rupert joined in the laugh, for in truth he had that very morning looked anxiously in a glass, and had tried in vain to persuade himself that the down on his upper lip showed any signs of thickening or growing.

“Well, and how many unfortunate English, Dutch, and Germans have you dispatched since we saw you?”

“Oh, please hush,” Rupert said anxiously.  “No one knows that I have any idea of fencing, or that I have ever drawn a sword before I went through my course of the broadsword here.  I would not on any account that any one thought I was a quarrelsome swordster.  You know I really am not, and it has been purely my misfortune that I have been thrust into these things.”

“And you have never told any of your comrades that you have killed your man?  Or that Dalboy proclaimed you in his salle to be one of the finest blades in Europe?”

“No, indeed,” Rupert said.  “Why should I, Sir John?”

“Well, all I can say is, Rupert, I admire your modesty as much as your skill.  There are few fellows of your age, or of mine either, but would hector a little on the strength of such a reputation.  I think that I myself should cock my hat, and point my moustache a little more fiercely, if I knew that I was the cock of the whole walk.”

Rupert smiled.  “I don’t think you would, Sir John, especially if you were as young as I am.  I know I have heard my tutor say that the fellow who is really cock of a school, is generally one of the quietest and best-tempered fellows going.  Not that I mean,” he added hastily, as his companions both laughed, “that I am cock, or that I am a quiet or very good-tempered fellow.  I only meant that I was not quarrelsome, and have indeed put up more than once with practical jokings which I might have resented had I not known how skillful with the sword I am, and that in this campaign I shall have plenty of opportunities of showing that I am no coward.”