"Then you have been a soldier longer than I've been born," said Frank. "How glad your mother will be to see you! I think I should run all the way; I would not stop at all till I got home."
"But could you run, Frank, if you were as lame as I am?"
"No, sir, I could not; but then I would ride—I would never stop anywhere until I got home."
"But if you were in pain what would you do?"
"Oh, I would not mind it at all; soldiers ought never to mind pain. When Charley wheeled the big barrow over my feet I did not cry, though he hurt me dreadfully, because I am going to be a soldier. But that is grandfather calling me. Good bye, sir."
In an instant the boy was gone; and Hubert, bending forward, looked out along the side pathway down which he had run. He watched him until he was out of sight, and then his thoughts turned upon himself. Why was he contented in tarrying there? How was it that he felt no spirit to hurry onward? He looked up at the sky; the clouds were breaking, and the sun shone brightly.
"Oh that I were at home," he uttered, "and all the past forgiven! How can I face it?" But no good thought came into his mind to help him in his difficulty; and he sat for some time gazing vacantly into the garden.
"Yes, little Frank," he suddenly exclaimed, "they will be glad to see me; I'll not stay here." And taking his stick in his hand, he drew his cloak around him, and went into the house. The good people were somewhat unwilling to part with their visitor, but Hubert was determined to go; and, as he parted with the kind people, they were astonished to see him kiss little Frank, and then to hear him say—
"Good bye, Frank. I'm not going to stop any more till I get home. Learn to read your Bible; and I hope you will make a good soldier."
The old landlord felt honoured at the notice Hubert had taken of his grandson, and as he removed his own little old black hat from his head, he turned to the child, and said—