"Humph, Mr. Fieldsend," Marlborough began, when he had glanced over
the contents of the short epistle. "You are a lucky young fellow to
have got Sir George's good word. But where is the lad he speaks
of--Fairburn, I see?"
"Just outside, your Grace," was the reply, and at a nod the lieutenant
fetched George in.
The Duke scanned the boy's ruddy face and took note of his sturdy
figure.
"My lad," he began, "you have begun early. Do you know what request
Sir George makes in this note?"
"No, sir--my Lord Duke," George stammered in reply, his knees almost
shaking under him.
"He recommends you for a commission as ensign," the Duke said quietly,
the boy standing almost open-mouthed. "We will give you a short trial
first, for as yet we don't know you. No doubt we soon shall." And the
great man smiled.
He rapped smartly on the table and an aide-de-camp entered the tent,
saluting.
"Here, Mr. Blackett," Marlborough gave the order, "take this lad to
your captain, who will see that he is enrolled in your company."
The next moment George Fairburn was shaking the other hard by the
hand, the astonishment on both sides too great to admit of a word
between them.
CHAPTER VII
BLENHEIM
"Now I can thank you, my dear Fairburn! We shall never forget it!"
were the first words Blackett uttered, and he pressed George's hand
once more in his warm grip.
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