about Robert White who I am sorry to say
was brought into the military hospital the
other day dangerously wounded. He lingered
three days and was perfectly conscious up to
the last. I never saw a braver or more patient
lad. He told me all about your goodness to
him, and his devotion to a little nephew of
yours was most touching. His name was always
on his lips. He asked me to tell you the
circumstances of his death, and added, 'She
will tell Master Roy, I have tried to do my
duty. And I will be waiting now in heaven to
welcome him. I would have liked to be his servant,
but God wants me, and God comes first.'
I heard from his sergeant the details of the
engagement. A small party of them--White
among them--had been ordered to go and
take a certain mountain pass, and their officer
in command was shot just before they reached
it. I wish I could give you the account in the
sergeant's own words as he told it me. I will
try. 'We were marching up in single file, for
the pass was a very narrow one. Through
the clefts round it, we saw projecting the enemy's
bayonets and spears, and we knew it
was certain death for the first one in our
ranks. I led the men, and I tell you, Mum, it
was a cold-blooded way of meeting one's
death, worse than in the fiercest battle fighting
shoulder to shoulder! I pulled myself together,
tried to say a prayer and marched on,
wondering where I should be the next minute,
when suddenly before I knew where I was,
Corporal White had placed himself in front of
me. "You are not ready, sergeant," he said;
"I am, let me take your place." It wasn't time
to stand arguing, but I tell you I felt queer
when I saw the lad stretched for dead under
my feet. We had a sharp skirmish, but we
drove the enemy back, and the first one I
went to look for was White.'
"The sergeant told me this with a sob in
his voice; he added that for months he had
ridiculed White for his religion and tried to
drive it out of him. But he came every morning
to the hospital, and I saw him on his knees
by White's bedside, offering up a prayer that
he might be made a different man.
"And now I must try to give you more details
about White himself. I asked him if I
could do anything for him the last day he was
alive and then he asked me to write to you.
He kept the photo of your little nephew under
his pillow, and more than once he murmured--'God
first, the Queen next, and then Master
Roy--I'll be a faithful servant if I can!'
Toward evening I saw he was sinking. I said
'Are you comfortable, corporal?' and he looked
up with such a radiant smile: 'Safe in the
arms of Jesus,' he murmured, and those were
his last words. From what I have heard from
those who knew him out here, I gather that
his life was a singularly pure and upright one,
and that young as he was he had influenced
more than one careless drinking man to turn
over a new leaf, and be the same as he was. I
am forwarding his Bible and small belongings
by this mail.
"Believe me, dear madam,
"Yours faithfully,
"ROSE SMITH--Sister in Charge."
Roy listened to this with breathless interest, his eyes shining through
his tears.
"Oh, Dudley, how splendid! oh, Rob, you have been a brave soldier, but I
shall never, never see you again!"
Down went the little head and a torrent of tears burst forth; whilst
Dudley laying his curly head against his cousin's joined him in his
weeping. One more letter remained to be read and this was the major's--
"DEAR MISS BERTRAM:
"Having heard from you that one of
my men was a protégé of yours, I take the
opportunity of saying a word for the poor
young fellow. He has been an exemplary
character since he came into the regiment, and
has, I hear, been a general favorite from his
extreme good nature, in spite of being a religious
lad. His influence was felt by all his
comrades who came in contact with him, and
I feel we have lost a smart and promising soldier.
The sister in the hospital tells me she is
writing particulars of his death. My sergeant
is very much cut up over it.
"With kind regards,
"Believe me, yours truly,
"W.A. ALDRIDGE--Major."
"And that's all," said Dudley, mournfully; "why, I can't believe Rob is
dead--we never knew he was ill."
Roy took up the letter, and read through Rob's again. Then he looked
across the blue ocean in front of him.
"Just read me that bit of the nurse's letter of the fight, Dudley. Can't
you think of him marching up to the enemy?"
Dudley read the desired bit, and then with a deep drawn breath Roy said:
"He acted out the song of the drummer boys, didn't he? He marched on to
meet his death like they did. I wonder how it felt. Could you have put
yourself in front of the sergeant, Dudley?"
"If you had been the sergeant, I could," was the prompt reply.
"But the sergeant hadn't been kind to him. Oh, Rob, Rob."
"Don't cry so, old chap, you'll make yourself ill. He's happy now.
Don't you think we'd better be going in?"
But Roy would not leave the beach till the tea bell sounded, and then he
crept in with such a white, weary face that kind Mrs. Hawthorn put him
straight to bed, and stayed with him listening to his trouble till tired
out and exhausted he fell asleep. When Dudley came to bed he found him
clutching the letters tight in one hand, and muttering in his sleep,
"God first, the Queen next, and then Master Roy!"
Once in the night he was roused by Roy's grasping hold of his
bedclothes.
"Dudley, are you asleep?"
"No," was the sleepy answer, "aren't you well?"
"Yes, but I can't sleep. Tell me, was it my fault? Did I send Rob to his
death? I wanted him to go. Did I make him go?"
"Of course you didn't," and Dudley now was wide-awake. "He wanted to go
first, and you didn't like it, don't you remember?"
"Yes, I think he liked going; but if he hadn't heard that song perhaps
he would never have gone, he would never have wanted to be a soldier."
"He did a lot of good out there. I don't think he will be sorry now."
Roy settled down to sleep again comforted; but for the next few days he
seemed quite unable to give his mind to his lessons, and after some
correspondence with Miss Bertram, it was arranged that he and Dudley
should go home from Saturday to Monday. It was a sad home-coming, and
when Roy saw Rob's Bible his grief burst out afresh. The pages showed
how much they had been studied, but no verse was more marked than the
one Roy had given him. "Endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus
Christ."
On Sunday evening the boys paid a visit to old Principle. They had been
talking about Rob, when Roy said wistfully,
"Rob used his opportunity when he got it, didn't he? I expect he didn't
know what a hero he was. I wonder if I shall ever get one come to me. I
should like to do something great for God, and great for my country. I
shall never give up wishing for a great opportunity to come to me!"
Then old Principle spoke, and his tone was very solemn:
"'Tis not I that will make you proud and uplifted, laddie, but you have
been given the grandest opportunity that ever a poor mortal could be
given, and you've taken it and made use of it, thank the Lord!"
Both boys gazed up at him with open eyes and mouths.
Dudley said after a minute's thought:
"We've both had some little opportunities, and Roy has had the biggest.
He saved me from drowning, and he went into the cave to fetch you!"
"Those weren't proper opportunities," muttered Roy in scorn, "they
aren't worth remembering; not after what Rob has done."
"Yes, the opportunity I'm talking of was a grander one than them, though
old Principle can't forget he owes his life perhaps to both of you boys'
thought of him. 'Tis what the Lord Himself left His throne in heaven
for," the old man proceeded in the same solemn tones; "'tis the one
thing, the only thing we're told brings joy to the happy ones above; nay
to the Almighty Himself, and 'tis wonderful that He will let us have the
part in it we do!"
"What do you mean?" questioned Roy awed and puzzled by old Principle's
manner.
"I mean this, laddie, you had an opportunity of leading an ignorant soul
to the feet of his Saviour; of enlisting a soldier not only in the
Queen's service but in the service of the King of Kings; of being the
means of filling an empty barren soul with a flood of light and
gladness; and of sending out a missionary in the midst of ungodliness
and vice, to turn many from the error of their ways. Is it not a greater
honor to help to save a soul from destruction, than bring glory to
yourself by some feat of physical strength or skill? Thank the Lord on
your knees to-night, that He sent you the opportunity you were always
hankering after; and thank Him He gave you the grace to seize hold of
it, and make use of it for His Glory, not your own!"
Old Principle's burst of eloquence almost startled the boys, and they
received it in silence; but later on, as they were walking home in the
cool of the evening Roy linked his arm in Dudley's and said softly--
"I see it all now. My broken leg and everything. It was when I was too
weak to go out with you, that Rob and I used to talk over these things."
And Dudley replied, with an emphatic nod, "Yes, though you didn't know
it, Rob was your big opportunity."
FINIS.