"Why do you hesitate?"
"Because I did not think--" I stopped in time.
"I know, I know," said he, hastily; "and you must pardon me; but did you
not urge me on?"
"I confess it, Captain; and you have done me good."
"Of course, Jones, you know that I did not expect you to accept my
offer, which, after all, was merely imaginary. Now, can you not see that
what you fear is men's opinions rather than danger? You are not
intimidated at the prospect of battle."
"I fear that I shall be," said I.
"And yet, when I propose to keep you out of battle, your indignation
seems no less natural to yourself than it does to me."
"Is not that in keeping with what I have said about my fears?"
"Oblige me by explaining."
"I fear to show you my fear. Do I not refuse your offer for the purpose
of concealing my fear?"
"And to conceal your imaginary fears, you accept the possibility--the
strong possibility--of death," said he, gravely.
"Yes," I replied; "I do now, while death seems far, but what I shall do
when it is near is not sure."
"You are very stubborn," said the Captain, in a stern voice, assuming
again the relation of an officer.
"I do not mean it that way, Captain."
"You have determined to consider yourself a coward, or at least to
cherish fear; and no suggestion I can make seems to touch you."
"I wish I could banish fear," said I.
"Well, sir, determine to do it. Instead of exerting your will to make
yourself miserable, use it for a better purpose."
"How can a man will? How can he know that his resolution will not weaken
in the time of trial?"
"It is by willing to do what comes next that a man can again will and
will more. Can you not determine that you will do what you are ordered
to do? Doubtless we shall march, to-morrow; have you not decided that
you will march with us?"
"I had not thought of so simple a thing. Of course, Captain, I expect
to march."
"And if the march brings us upon the battlefield, do you not know that
you will march to the battlefield?"
"I expect to go into battle, of course, Captain. If I did not, I should
have no fear of myself."
"Have as great fear of yourself as you wish. Do you intend to run away
when we get into battle?"
"I have no such intention; but when the time comes, I may not be able to
have any intention at all."
"At what point in the action do you expect to weaken?"
"How can I have any expectation at all? I am simply untried, and fear
the test."
"You _can_ determine that you will act the man," said he. Then, kindly:
"I have no fears that you will do otherwise, but"--and here his voice
again became stern--"the determination will rid you of your present
fears. Exert your will, and this nightmare will go."
"Can a man will to do an unknown thing in the future?"
"_You_ can. You can drive away your present fear of yourself, at the
very least."
"How can I do it, Captain?"
"I shall give you one more test."
"Do anything you wish, Captain; only don't propose anything that would
confirm my fear."
"Look at me--now. I am going to count three--understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"When I say 'three,' you will determine to continue in your present
state of mind--"
"No, no, Captain; I can't do that!"
"Why, you've been doing nothing else for the last hour, man! But allow
me to finish. You are going to determine to remain as you are, or you
will determine to conquer your fears. Now, reflect before I begin."
There was a pause.
"Ready!" said the Captain; "hold your teeth together. When I say three,
you act--and act for life or death--ONE--TWO--"
If he ever said three, I did not hear it; at the word "two" all my fears
were gone.
"Well, my friend, how is it now?" he asked gently, even hesitatingly.
"Captain," said; "I am your grateful servant. I shall do my duty."
"I knew, sir, that your will was only sleeping; you must excuse me for
employing a disagreeable device in order to arouse it. If I may make a
suggestion, I would now beg, while you are in the vein, that you will
encourage henceforth, the companionship of the men."
"It will be a pleasure to do so, hereafter, Captain."
"And I am delighted with this little episode, sir," said he; "I am
sincerely glad that the thought of confiding in me presented itself to
your mind, since the result seems so wholesome."
"Good night, Captain," said I.
But he did not let me leave without thus having reasserted his character
as my commander.
"Go back and get all the sleep you can; you will have need for all your
physical strength to-morrow--and after."