One day, as he sat by the window, he asked the nurse if she knew what became of the coat he wore on the day when he was wounded.
"Oh, yes, Captain," she replied, "I took care of it and put it away; if you wish to have it, I will fetch it for you."
"Thank you," said Hubert, "I should like to have it now." And the nurse went immediately to find it.
In a very few minutes the nurse returned, and, as she unfolded the coat, she said, "I fear it is very dirty, though these stains will be from the blood; I saw them when I folded it up, but I thought it best to take care of it, for I know soldiers generally prize the coat they were wounded in; I have sent many a one home to England to the friends of those who have died—you will, I hope, be able to take your own."
"I hope so, nurse, though it will be some time yet before I can go;" and then he began to examine the coat, and turned it over to find the pocket in the inside of the left breast: he found it, and there too was all that remained of his "torn Bible." Pale as his cheek was from pain and sickness, a deeper pallor came over it as he drew out the Bible, and the cover of it met his eye. What was the meaning of the small round hole he saw? All the truth flashed upon his mind at once; he knew what it meant; and the cold perspiration stood out upon his forehead, as, with nervous hand, he turned over leaf by leaf until he came to a small bullet. It was not large, but sufficient to have destroyed life if it had penetrated his heart; and as he cast it upon the floor, he clasped the torn Bible to his bosom, and bent his head low over his mother's last gift—that despised and neglected treasure.
The nurse had seen all that Hubert did upon receiving his coat; she saw him draw the book from the pocket, tremble as he opened it, and then cast the bullet upon the floor; but she would have taken but little notice of all that, if she had not seen his head droop as though something deeply troubled him.
"Come, Captain," she said, "that book makes you think sad things; come, sir, keep up your spirits, and give me the book to keep till you are stronger."
"Don't touch it; leave it with me," said Hubert, pushing back her hand; "I am strong enough—go away."
"No, Captain, I must not go away; you are not strong enough to bear any excitement; it would just throw you back again, after all our care of you. Think, sir, of getting well, not about that coat and book—I wish I had not brought them to you. I dare say when you see that coat all stained with blood and torn, you think about the narrow escape you have had: but cheer up, Captain, and don't think about it now."
"Look here," said Hubert, pointing to the cover of the book, "see what saved my life;" and then he relieved his heart by telling her all about that book; and as she listened she sat down upon a low chair before him, and, poor sympathizing one, she forgot, while her own tears fell as she heard the story he told, that she had, only a few minutes before, chided him for his sadness.