"Oh, heaven help him! " says she, clasping her hands and looking up—she was close in front of me, and she looked most lovely to be sure; " he is not sufficiently recovered, not strong enough for such strife I"
"If you had seen him, miss," I told her, "as I saw him when he volunteered, you would have known that his spirit is strong enough for any strife. It will bear his body, miss, to wherever duty calls him. It will always bear him to an honorable life, or a brave death."
"Heaven bless you I " says she, touching my arm. "I know it. Heaven bless you!"
Mrs. Belltott surprised me by trembling and saying nothing. They were still standing looking toward the sea and listening after the relief had come round. It continuing very dark, I asked to be allowed to take them back. Miss Maryon thanked me, and put her arm in mine, and T did take them back. I have now got to make a confession that will appear singular. After I had left them, I laid myself down on my face on the bench, and cried for the first time since I had frightened birds as a boy at Snorridge Bottom, to think what a poor, ignorant, low-placed, private soldier I was.
It was only for half a minute or so. A man can't at all times be quite master of himself, and it was only for half a minute or so. Then I up and went to my hut, and turned into my hammock, and fell asleep with wet eye-lashes, and a sore, sore heart. Just as I had often done when I was a child, and had been worse used than usual.
I slept (as a child under those circumstances might) very sound, and yet very sore at heart all through my sleep. I was awoke by the words, "He is a determined man." I had sprung out of my hammock, and had seized my fire-lock, and was standing on the ground, saying the word myself, " He is a determined man." But the curiosity of my state was, that I seemed to be repeating them after somebody, and to have been wonderfully startled by healing them.
As soon as I came to myself, I went out of the hut, and away to where the guard was. Charker challenged:
"Who goes there?"
"A friend."
"Not Gill?" says he, as he shouldered his piece.
"Gill," says I.
