CHAPTER XIV.
RONALD IS OFFERED A COMMISSION.
As soon as Mary Armstrong reached the hospital, the trooper who hadaccompanied her took her to the surgeon's quarters. The officer, onhearing that a lady wished to speak to him, at once came out.
"I am Mary Armstrong," the girl said as she slipped down from the horse."I think my father is here, wounded. He came up in the waggons the daybefore yesterday, I believe."
"Oh yes, he is here, Miss Armstrong. I had him put in one of theofficers' wards that is otherwise empty at present."
"How is he, doctor?"
"Well, I am sorry to say that just at present he is very ill. The woundsare not, I hope, likely to prove fatal, though undoubtedly they are veryserious; but he is in a state of high fever--in fact, he is delirious,principally, I think, owing to his anxiety about you, at least so Igathered from the officer who brought him in, for he was alreadydelirious when he arrived here."
"I can go to him, I hope?"
"Certainly you can, Miss Armstrong. Your presence is likely to soothehim. The ward will be entirely at your disposal. I congratulate you mostheartily upon getting out of the hands of the Kaffirs. Mr. Nolan told usof the gallant attempt which a sergeant of the Cape Mounted Rifles wasgoing to make to rescue you; but I don't think that any one thought hehad the shadow of a chance of success."
"He succeeded, doctor, as you see; but he was wounded to-day just as wewere in sight of the town. They are bringing him here. Will you kindlylet me know when he comes in and how he is?"
"I will let you know at once, Miss Armstrong; and now I will take you toyour father."
One of the hospital orderlies was standing by the bedside of Mr.Armstrong as his daughter and the surgeon entered. The patient wastalking loudly.
"I tell you I will go. They have carried off Mary. I saw them do it andcould not help her, but I will go now."
Mary walked to the bedside and bent down and kissed her father.
"I am here, father, by your side. I have got away from them, and here Iam to nurse you."
The patient ceased talking and a quieter expression came over his face.Mary took his hand in hers and quietly stroked it.
"That's right, Mary," he murmured; "are the bars of the cattle kraal up?See that all the shutters are closed, we cannot be too careful, youknow."
"I will see to it all, father," she said, cheerfully; "now try to go tosleep."
A few more words passed from the wounded man's lips, and then he layquiet with closed eyes.
"That is excellent, Miss Armstrong," the surgeon said; "theconsciousness that you are with him has, you see, soothed him at once.If he moves, get him to drink a little of this lemonade, and I will sendyou in some medicine for him shortly."
"How are the wounds, doctor?"
"Oh, I think the wounds will do," the surgeon replied; "so far as I cantell, the assegai has just missed the top of the lung by a hair'sbreadth. Two inches lower and it would have been fatal. As for thewounds in the legs, I don't anticipate much trouble with them. They havemissed both bones and arteries and are really nothing but flesh wounds,and after the active, healthy life your father has been living, I do notthink we need be uneasy about them."
In half an hour the surgeon looked in again.
"Sergeant Blunt has arrived," he said. "You can set your mind at easeabout him; it is a nasty gash, but of no real importance whatever. Ihave drawn the edges together and sewn them up; he is quite in goodspirits, and laughed and said that a wound in the back could scarcely becalled an honourable scar. I can assure you that in ten days or so hewill be about again."
"Would you mind telling him," Mary asked, "that I would come to see himat once, but my father is holding my hand so tight that I could not drawit away without rousing him?"
"I will tell him," the surgeon said. "Oh, here is the orderly with yourmedicine as well as your father's."
The orderly brought in a tray with a bowl of beef tea and a glass ofwine. "You will take both these, if you please, Miss Armstrong, and Iwill have the other bed placed by the side of your father, so that youcan lie down with him holding your hand. You are looking terribly paleand tired, and I do not want you on my hands too."
The tray was placed upon the table within Mary's reach, and the surgeonstood by and saw that she drank the wine and beef tea. He and theorderly then moved the other couch to the side of Mr. Armstrong's bed,and arranged it so that Mary could lie down with her hand still in herfather's.
"Now," he said, "I recommend you to go off to sleep soon. I am happy tosay that your father is sleeping naturally, and it may be hours beforehe wakes. When he does so, he will be sure to move and wake you, and thesight of you will, if he is sensible, as I expect he will be, go a longway towards his cure."
Captain Twentyman, when he returned in the afternoon from areconnaissance that he had been making with a portion of the troop,called at once to see Ronald, but was told that he was sound asleep, andso left word that he would come again in the morning.
The news of Sergeant Blunt's desperate attempt to rescue three whitewomen who had been carried off by the Kaffirs had, when reported byLieutenant Nolan, been the subject of much talk in the camp. Every oneadmitted that it was a breach of discipline thus to leave the party ofwhich he was in command when upon special service, but no one seriouslyblamed him for this. Admiration for the daring action and regret for theloss of so brave a soldier, for none thought that there was theslightest chance of ever seeing him again, overpowered all otherfeelings. Mr. Nolan stated that the sergeant had told him that one ofthe three women was the daughter of the wounded man he had brought inwith him, and that he had known her and her father before, and it wasgenerally agreed that there must have been something more than mereacquaintance in the case to induce the sergeant to undertake such adesperate enterprise. Great interest was therefore excited when, uponthe return of Lieutenant Daniels' party, it became known that he hadfallen in with Sergeant Blunt and a young lady, and that the sergeantwas severely wounded. All sorts of questions were asked the lieutenant.
"Ten to one she's pretty, Daniels," a young subaltern said.
"She is pretty, Mellor," another broke in; "I caught a glimpse of her,and she is as pretty a girl as I have seen in the colony, though, ofcourse, she is looking utterly worn out."
"He is a gentleman," another officer, who had just come up, said. "Ihave been talking to Nolan, and he tells me that Sergeant Blunt spoke ofher as a lady, and said that her father had served in the army andfought as a young ensign at Waterloo."
"Mr. Armstrong is a gentleman," Lieutenant Daniels said. "He had a farmon the Kabousie River, that is where Blunt got to know him. He had thereputation of being a wealthy man. Blunt was in command of a party whocame up and saved them when they were attacked by the Kaffirs onChristmas Day. So this is the second time he has rescued the younglady."
"I hope Mr. Armstrong isn't going to be a stern father, and spoil thewhole romance of the business," young Mellor laughed. "One of yourtroopers, Daniels, however brave a fellow, can hardly be considered as agood match for an heiress."
"Blunt is as much a gentleman as I am," Lieutenant Daniels said,quietly. "I know nothing whatever of his history or what his real nameis, for I expect that Blunt is only a _nom-de-guerre_, but I do knowthat he is a gentleman, and I am sure he has served as an officer. Morethan that I do not want to know, unless he chooses to tell me himself. Isuppose he got into some scrape or other at home; but I wouldn't mindmaking a heavy bet that, whatever it was, it was nothing dishonourable."
"But how did he get her away from the Kaffirs? It seems almost animpossibility. I asked the head man of the Fingoes, who was with him,"another said, "but he had already got three parts drunk, so I did notget much out of him; but as far as I could make out, they carried heroff from Macomo's kraal in the heart of the Amatolas."
"Oh, come now, that seems altogether absurd," two or three of theofficers standing round laughed, and Mellor said, "Orpheus going down tofetch Eurydice
back from Hades would have had an easy task of it incomparison."
"I am glad to see that you have not forgotten your classical learning,Mellor," one of the older officers said, "but certainly, of the two, Iwould rather undertake the task of Orpheus, who was pretty decentlytreated after all, than go to Macomo's kraal to fetch back a lady-love.Well, I suppose we shall hear about it to-morrow, but I can hardlybelieve this story to be true. The natives are such liars there's nobelieving what they say."
The next morning, after breakfast, Captain Twentyman and LieutenantDaniels walked across to the hospital. They first saw the surgeon.
"Well, doctor, how is my sergeant?"
"On the high way to recovery," the surgeon said, cheerfully. "Of course,the wound will be a fortnight, perhaps three weeks, before it is healedup sufficiently for him to return to duty, but otherwise there isnothing the matter with him. A long night's rest has pulled him roundcompletely. He is a little weak from loss of blood; but there is no harmin that. There is, I think, no fear whatever of fever or othercomplications. It is simply a question of the wound healing up."
"And the colonist--Armstrong his name is, I think, whose daughter wascarried away--how is he going on?"
"Much better. His daughter's presence at once calmed his delirium, andthis morning, when he woke after a good night's sleep, he was conscious,and will now, I think, do well. He is very weak, but that does notmatter, and he is perfectly content, lying there holding his daughter'shand. He has asked no questions as to how she got back again, and, ofcourse, I have told her not to allude to the subject, and to check himat once if he does so. The poor girl looks all the better for hernight's rest. She was a wan-looking creature when she arrived yesterdaymorning, but is fifty per cent. better already, and with another day ortwo's rest, and the comfort of seeing her father going on well, she willsoon get her colour and tone back again."
"I suppose we can go up and see Blunt, and hear about his adventures?"
"Oh, yes, talking will do him no harm. I will come with you, for I wastoo busy this morning, when I went my rounds, to have any conversationwith him except as to his wound."
"My inquiries are partly personal and partly official," CaptainTwentyman said. "Colonel Somerset asked me this morning to see Blunt,and gather any information as to the Kaffirs' positions that might beuseful. I went yesterday evening to question the Fingo head man who wentwith him, but he and all his men were as drunk as pigs. I hear that whenthey first arrived they said they had carried the girl off from Macomo'skraal, but of course there must be some mistake; they never could haveventured into the heart of the Amatolas and come out alive."
The three officers proceeded together to the ward in which Ronald waslying.
"Well, sergeant, how do you feel yourself?" Captain Twentyman asked.
"Oh, I am all right, sir," Ronald answered cheerfully. "My back smarts abit, of course, but that is nothing. I hope I shall be in the saddleagain before long--at any rate before the advance is made."
"I hope so, Blunt. And now, if you feel up to telling it, I want to hearabout your adventure. Colonel Somerset asked me to inquire, as it willthrow some light on the numbers and position of the Kaffirs; besides,the whole camp is wanting to know how you succeeded in getting MissArmstrong out of the hands of the Kaffirs. I can assure you that thereis nothing else talked about."
"There is nothing much to talk about, as far as I am concerned, sir,"Ronald said. "It was the Fingoes' doing altogether, and they could havemanaged as well, indeed better, without me."
"Except that they would not have done it, unless you had been withthem."
"No, perhaps not," Ronald admitted. "I was lucky enough down at PortElizabeth to fish out the son of Kreta, the head man of the party, whohad been washed off his feet in the surf; and it was out of gratitudefor that that he followed me."
"Yes, we heard about that business from Mr. Nolan, and although youspeak lightly of it, it was, he tells us, a very gallant affair indeed.But now as to this other matter."
"In the first place, Captain Twentyman, I admit that going off as I didwas a great breach of duty. I can only say that I shall be willing,cheerfully, to submit to any penalty the colonel may think fit toinflict. I had no right whatever to leave my detachment on what wasreally private business; but even if I had been certain that I shouldhave been shot as a deserter on my return to the regiment, I should nothave hesitated in acting as I did."
"We all understand your feelings, Blunt," Captain Twentyman said,kindly, "and you have no need to make yourself uneasy on that score. Topunish a man for acting as you have done would be as bad as the seastory of the captain who flogged a seaman, who jumped overboard to savea comrade, for leaving the ship without orders. Now for your story: allwe have heard is that your Fingo says you carried off the young ladyfrom Macomo's kraal, but, of course, that is not believed."
"It is quite true, nevertheless," Ronald said. "Well, this is how itwas, sir," and he gave a full account of the whole adventure.
"Well, I congratulate you most heartily," Captain Twentyman said when hefinished; "it is really a wonderful adventure--a most gallant businessindeed, and the whole corps, officers and men, will be proud of it."
"I should be glad, sir, if there could be some reward given to Kreta andhis men; as you will have seen from my story, any credit that there isin the matter is certainly their due."
"I will see to that," the officer replied. "The Fingo desires are,happily, easily satisfied; a good rifle, a few cows, and a barrel ofwhisky make up his ideal of happiness. I think I can promise you theyshall have all these."
In the afternoon, Mr. Armstrong again dropped off to a quiet sleep. Thistime he was not holding his daughter's hand, and as soon as she saw thathe was fairly off she stole out of the room, and finding the surgeon,asked if he would take her up to the ward where Sergeant Blunt waslying.
"Yes, I shall be happy to take you up at once, Miss Armstrong.Everything is tidy just at present, for I have had a message fromColonel Somerset that he and the General are coming round the wards. Idon't suppose they will be here for half an hour, so you can come up atonce."
The sick men in the wards were surprised when the surgeon entered,accompanied by a young lady. She passed shyly along between the rows ofbeds until she reached that of Ronald. She put her hand in his, but fora moment was unable to speak. Ronald saw her agitation, and saidcheerfully: "I am heartily glad, Miss Armstrong, to hear from the doctorsuch a good account of your father. As for me, I shall not be in hishands many days. I told you it was a mere scratch, and I believe that agood-sized piece of sticking-plaster was all that was wanted."
"You haven't thought me unkind for not coming to see you before, Ihope," the girl said; "but I have not been able till now to leave myfather's room for a moment."
"I quite understood that, Miss Armstrong, and indeed there was nooccasion for you to come to me at all. It would have been quite timeenough when I was up and about again. I only wish that it was likelythat Mr. Armstrong would be on his feet as soon as I shall."
"Oh, he is going on very well," Mary said. "I consider that you havesaved his life as well as mine. I feel sure it is only having me withhim again that has made such a change in him as has taken place sinceyesterday. The doctor says so, too. I have not told him yet how it hasall come about, but I hope ere very long he may be able to thank you forboth of us."
"You thanked me more than enough yesterday, Miss Armstrong, and I am notgoing to listen to any more of it. As far as I can see, you could nothave done me any greater service than by giving me the opportunity youhave. Every one seems disposed to take quite a ridiculous view of thematter, and I may look forward to getting a troop-sergeantship whenthere is a vacancy."
The girl shook her head. She was too much in earnest even to pretend totake a light view of the matter. Just at that moment there was atrampling of horses outside, and the sharp sound of the sentriespresenting arms.
"Here is the General," Ronald said, with a smile, "and although I don't
wish to hurry you away, Miss Armstrong, I think you had better go backto your father. I don't know whether the Chief would approve of ladyvisitors in the hospital."
"Good-bye," the girl said, giving him her hand. "You won't let me thankyou, but you know."
"I know," Ronald replied. "Good-bye"
She looked round for the surgeon, who had, after taking her up toRonald, moved away for a short distance, but he was gone, having hurriedoff to meet the General below, and with a last nod to Ronald, she leftthe ward. She passed out through the door into the courtyard just as thegroup of officers were entering.
"That is Miss Armstrong," the surgeon said, as she passed out.
"What, the girl who was rescued?" Colonel Somerset said; "a very pretty,ladylike-looking young woman. I am not surprised, now that I see her, atthis desperate exploit of my sergeant."
"No, indeed," the General said, smiling. "It's curious, colonel, whatmen will do for a pretty face. Those other two poor creatures who werecarried off were both murdered, and I don't suppose their deaths havegreatly distressed this young fellow one way or the other. No doubt hewould have been glad to rescue them; but I imagine that their deathshave not in any way caused him to regard his mission as a failure. Isuppose that it's human nature, colonel."
Colonel Somerset laughed.
"You and I would have seen the matter in the same light when we wereyoungsters, General."
The officers went through the wards, stopping several times to speak afew words to the patients.
"So this is the deserter," Colonel Somerset said, with some assumedsternness, as they stopped by Ronald's bedside. "Well, sir, we have hada good many of those black rascals desert from our ranks, but you arethe first white soldier who has deserted since the war began. Of course,you expect a drumhead court-martial and shooting as soon as the doctorlets you out of his hands."
Ronald saw that the old colonel was not in earnest.
"It was very bad, colonel," he said, "and I can only throw myself onyour mercy."
"You have done well, my lad--very well," the colonel said, laying hishand on his shoulder. "There are some occasions when even military lawsgive place to questions of humanity, and this was essentially one ofthem. You are a fine fellow, sir; and I am proud that you belong to mycorps."
The General, who had stopped behind speaking to another patient, nowcame up.
"You have done a very gallant action, Sergeant Blunt," he said. "CaptainTwentyman has reported the circumstances to me; but when you are out ofhospital you must come to head-quarters and tell me your own story. Willyou see to this, Colonel Somerset?"
"Certainly, sir. I will send him over, or rather bring him over to you,as soon as he's about, for I should like to hear the whole story also."
In ten days Ronald Mervyn was on his feet again, although not yet fitfor duty; the wound had healed rapidly, but the surgeon said it would beat least another fortnight before he would be fit for active service. Assoon as he was able to go out and sit on the benches in the hospitalyard, many of his comrades came to see him, and there was a warmth andearnestness in their congratulations which showed that short as his timehad been in the corps, he was thoroughly popular with them. SergeantMenzies was particularly hearty in his greeting.
"I knew you were the right sort, Harry Blunt, as soon as I set eyes uponyou," he said; "but I did not expect you were going to cut us all out sosoon."
"How is my horse, sergeant?"
"Oh, he's none the worse for it, I think. He has been taking walkingexercise, and his stiffness is wearing off fast. I think he misses youvery much, and he wouldn't take his food the first day or two. He hasgot over it now, but I know he longs to hear your voice again."
Sometimes, too, Mary Armstrong would come out and sit for a time withRonald. Her father was progressing favourably, and though stillextremely weak, was in a fair way towards recovery.
"Will you come in to see father?" Mary said one morning; "he knows allabout it now; but it was only when he came round just now that thedoctor gave leave for him to see you."
"I shall be very glad to see him," Ronald said, rising. "I own that whenI saw him last I entertained very slight hopes I should ever meet himalive again."
"He is still very weak," the girl said, "and the doctor says he is notto be allowed to talk much."
"I will only pay a short visit, but it will be a great pleasure to me tosee him; I have always felt his kindness to me."
"Father is kind to every one," the girl said, simply. "In this instancehis kindness has been returned a hundred-fold."
By this time they had reached the door of the ward.
"Here is Mr. Blunt come to see you, father. Now you know what the doctorsaid; you are not to excite yourself, and not to talk too much, and ifyou are not good, I shall take him away."
"I am glad to see you are better, Mr. Armstrong," Ronald said, as hewent up to the bed, and took the thin hand in his own.
"God bless you, my boy," the wounded man replied; "it is to you I owe myrecovery, for had you not brought Mary back to me, I should be a deadman now, and would have been glad of it."
"I am very glad, Mr. Armstrong, to have been able to be of service toyour daughter and to you; but do not let us talk about it now; I am surethat you cannot do so without agitating yourself, and the great point atpresent with us all is for you to be up and about again. Do your woundshurt you much?"
"Not much; and yours, Blunt?"
"Oh, mine is a mere nothing," Ronald said, cheerfully, "it's healing upfast, and except when I forget all about it, and move sharply, Iscarcely feel it. I feel something like the proverbial man who swallowedthe poker, and have to keep myself as stiff as if I were on inspection.This ward is nice and cool, much cooler than they are upstairs. Ofcourse the verandah outside shades you. You will find it very pleasantthere when you are strong enough to get up. I am afraid that by thattime I shall be off, for the troops are all on their march up from thecoast, and in another ten days we expect to begin operations inearnest."
"I don't think the doctor ought to let you go," Mary Armstrong said."You have done quite your share, I am sure."
"I hope my share in finishing up with these scoundrels will be a gooddeal larger yet," Ronald laughed. "My share has principally beencreeping and hiding, except just in that last brush, and there, if Imistake not, your share was as large as mine. I only fired three shots,and I think I heard your pistol go four times."
"Yes, it is dreadful to think of now," the girl said; "but somehow itdidn't seem so at the time. I feel shocked now when I recall it."
"There's nothing to be shocked at, Miss Armstrong; it was our lives ortheirs; and if your hand had not been steady, and your aim true, weshould neither of us be here talking over the matter now. But I think myvisit has been long enough. I will come in again, Mr. Armstrong,to-morrow, and I hope each day to find you more and more able to takeyour share in the talk."
In another ten days Ronald rejoined his troop, and the next day receivedan order to be ready at four o'clock to accompany Colonel Somerset tothe General's.
"Now, sergeant, take a seat," the General said, "and tell me the fullstory of your adventures."
Ronald again repeated his story. When he had done, the General remarked:
"Your report more than bears out what I heard from Captain Twentyman. Ihave already talked the matter over with Colonel Somerset, and as weconsider that such an action should be signally rewarded, ColonelSomerset will at once apply for a commission for you in your own corps,or if you would prefer it, I will apply for a commission for you in oneof the line regiments. I may say that the application under suchcircumstances would certainly be acceded to."
"I am deeply obliged to you for your kindness, sir, and to you, ColonelSomerset; but I regret to say that, with all respect, I must declineboth offers."
"Decline a commission!" the General said in surprise. "Why, I shouldhave thought that it was just the thing that you would have liked--adashing young fellow like you, and on the eve of
serious operations. Ican hardly understand you."
Ronald was silent for a moment.
"My reason for declining it, sir, is a purely personal one. Nothingwould have given me greater pleasure than a commission so bestowed, butthere are circumstances that absolutely prevent my mingling in thesociety of gentlemen. The name I go by is not my true one, and over myown name there is so terrible a shadow resting that so long as it isthere--and I have little hope of its ever being cleared off--I mustremain as I am."
Both officers remained silent a moment.
"You are sure you are not exaggerating the case, Blunt?" ColonelSomerset said after a pause. "I cannot believe that this cloud of whichyou speak can have arisen from any act of yours, and it would be a pityindeed were you to allow any family matter to weigh upon you thus."
Ronald shook his head. "It is a matter in which I am personallyconcerned, sir, and I do not in any way exaggerate it. I repeat, I mustremain in my present position."
"If it must be so, it must," the General said, "though I am heartilysorry. At least you will have the satisfaction of seeing your name inGeneral Orders this evening for an act of distinguished bravery."
"Thank you, sir," and Ronald, seeing the conversation was at an end,saluted to the two officers, went out, and rode back to his quarters.
The town was full of troops now, for the regiments that had beendespatched from England had nearly all arrived upon the spot, and theoperations against the Kaffirs in the Amatolas were to begin at once.Some of the troops, including two squadrons of the Rifles, were to marchnext morning.
Ronald went about his duties till evening, and then turned out to walkto the hospital. As he passed through the streets, he saw a group roundone of the Rifles, who had just come out from a drinking shop, and wasengaged in a fierce altercation with a Fingo. The man was evidently theworse for liquor, and Ronald went up to him and put his hand on hisshoulder.
"You had better go off to the barracks at once," he said, sharply; "youwill be getting into trouble if you stay here."
The man turned savagely round.
"Oh, it's you, Sergeant Blunt? Hadn't you better attend to your ownbusiness? I am not committing any crime here. I haven't been murderingwomen, or anything of that sort."
Ronald started back as if struck. The significance of the tone in whichthe man spoke showed him that these were no random words, but a shaftdeliberately aimed. In a moment he was cool again.
"If you do not return to the barracks at once," he said, sternly, "Iwill fetch a corporal's guard and put you in the cells."
The man hesitated a moment, and then muttering to himself, reeled offtowards the barracks. Had the blow come a month before, Ronald Mervynwould have felt it more, for absorbed in his active work, on horsebackthe greater portion of his time, the remembrance of the past had becomeblunted, and the present had occupied all his thoughts. It was onlyoccasionally that he had looked back to the days when he was CaptainMervyn, of the Borderers. But from the hour he had brought MaryArmstrong safely back to her father, the past had been constantly in hismind because it clashed with the present.
Before, Ronald Mervyn and Harry Blunt had almost seemed to be twoexistences, unconnected with each other; now, the fact of theiridentity had been constantly in his thoughts. The question he had beenasking himself over and over again was whether there could be apermanent separation between them, whether he could hope to get rid ofhis connection with Ronald Mervyn, and to continue to the end of thechapter as Harry Blunt. He had told himself long before that he couldnot do so, that sooner or later he should certainly be recognised; andalthough he had tried to believe that he could pass through life withoutmeeting any one familiar with his face, he had been obliged to admitthat this was next to impossible.
Had he been merely a country gentleman, known only to the people withina limited range of distance, it would have been different; but anofficer who has served ten years in the army has innumerableacquaintances. Every move he makes brings him in contact with men ofother regiments, and his circle goes on constantly widening until itembraces no small portion of the officers of the army. Then everysoldier who had passed through his regiment while he had been in itwould know his face; and, go where he would, he knew that he would berunning constant risks of detection. More than one of the regiments thathad now arrived at King Williamstown had been quartered with him at onestation or another, and there were a score of men who would recognisehim instantly did he come among them in the dress of an officer. Thisunexpected recognition, therefore, by a trooper in his own corps, didnot come upon him with so sudden a shock as it would have done a monthpreviously.
"I knew it must come," he said to himself bitterly "and that it mightcome at any moment. Still it is a shock. Who is this man, I wonder? Itseemed to me, when he first came up, that I had some faint remembranceof his face, though where, I have not the least idea. It was not in theregiment, for he knows nothing of drill or military habits. Of course,if he had been a deserter, he would have pretended ignorance, but onecan always tell by little things whether a man has served, and I am surethat this fellow has not. I suppose he comes from somewhere down home.
"Well, it can't be helped. Fortunately, I have won a good name beforethis discovery is made, and am likely to reap the benefit of what doubtthere may be. When a man shows that he has a fair amount of pluck, hiscomrades are slow to credit him with bad qualities. On the whole,perhaps it is well that it should have come on this evening of all whenI had quite made up my mind as to my course, for it strengthens me in mydecision as to what I ought to do. It is hard to throw away happiness,but this shows how rightly I decided. Nothing will shake me now. Poorlittle girl! it is hard for her, harder by far than for me. However, itis best that she should know it now, than learn it when too late."