CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
HOW I MADE A LONG JOURNEY, AND REACHED THE HAPPIEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE.
One morning, in the autumn of the same year, a small cluster of men standing on the deck of the troopship "Lizard," as she tumbled lazily forward over the waves, descried in the far horizon before them a dim low line of blue.

My master was one of this cluster, and having recovered from the depression which had afflicted both his spirits and his stomach during the early part of the voyage, now celebrated the "discovery of India" with a cry so outlandish, and other manifestations of joy so extravagant (one of which was pitching one of the sergeants' caps overboard) that he was instantly summoned before the officer in command, and ordered to remain below for the next twelve hours.

This was, I need hardly say, a disappointment to both of us.
All day long we heard overhead the crowding of footsteps, the clanking of chains, and the banging about of baggage.

The men were paraded on deck and one or two servants down where we were were very busy polishing the officers' swords.

Altogether it looked as if we were not intended to remain an hour longer in Bombay than was necessary before marching to the front.