"I am thinking," observed Willy, "that your way with the Jacobins was not much like Colonel Outram's way with the Bheels. There may be a better mode of subduing our enemies than riding them down or cutting them to pieces."
Louis coloured and looked at Mr. Presgrave, who smiled. "How much better to win one foe by kindness, than to slay ten thousand with the sword! How different would the feelings of Outram have been, had he stood as a conqueror on the hills of Candeish, with his victorious sword red with blood, and his enemies dead and dying around him, to what they must have been when he glanced along their ranks, and thought from what he had raised them by his courage and his mercy!"
"And I have heard mamma say that he narrowly escaped a death by poison," said Tom.
"How was that? How was that?" cried the rest.
"An injured, helpless widow had been falsely accused and thrown into prison, that her cruel enemy might take possession of the property that was her right. There was but one thing in the way of the bad man's success—the justice and generous spirit of a Briton, and that Briton was Colonel Outram! The widow's oppressor hated the man who stood between him and his prey; twice was the life of her protector attempted, but—"
"God watched over the safety of the brave and just man," said Mrs. Gore.
"Well, I do not wish to be a conqueror," observed little Willy, "but I should like to feel, when I left the earth, that some one was the happier for my having been in it!"
