"Thank you," Magnus answered, standing up again, "I think they will."
He watched the boat as it went on over the dimpling water, then changed his place a little, and began on a new end of his thoughts. This girl had "never guessed he was that sort."
Maybe she was only telling society fibs, but Magnus would not let himself off so. For what reason had he ever given her to think him a Christian? Where had his colours been, in all these walks and talks and meetings? Up his sleeve, in hiding?
"But I cannot flaunt them in people's faces," Magnus pleaded for himself.
No, and no more did the flag its stars and stripes; only waved them joyously overhead.
He had been ready to say that the constant frolic with the gay crowd was not good for him, but how about his side of the influence? Had he ever tried talking sense to girls whom he condemned for talking only nonsense? "Ye are the salt of the earth," but salt refreshes, stimulates, purifies; how far had he been like that? Without being priggish, without setting up for a preacher, could he not show in every way that the service of Christ was better than all else, and the knowledge of Him the most joyful thing in all this world? "Ye are my witnesses," said the Lord Jesus; and what sort of testimony did Cadet Magnus Kindred give from day to day? No matter how other men did, what had he done?
The final outcome of all these cogitations was a letter.
"Camp Golightly,
"July —, 18—."My Dear Mother:
"I don't see why you don't come East and look after your boy. How do you know what he is about here? Better come and see whether you want him home on furlough; that is, if that time ever comes, which I don't believe it will. Three, six, well nigh eight months yet before it will even be 'One hundred days to June.' Besides, they may find me in January, and then, instead of going home, I should go as straight to the Antipodes as if they'd shot me out of a catapult."
"Don't be uneasy; I'm not skinned more than twice a day on an average; skins grow fast here, and skinning is nothing when you get used to it. So the eels say. And I'm sure to take daddy's scalp when we get back to barracks. Not much of a possession, either, I must own."
"Do you realise, ma'am, that your son is that much detested and overworked and maligned being a yearling Corporal?—wearing chevrons, and sporting dignity enough for three Major-Generals? Come and see me drill the plebs; best fun you ever saw in your life—when you aren't one of 'em."
"But now, mother, this is serious. Do bring up our three girls respectably, so that when they come here for first-class camp, they'll know how to behave. But first of all, you've got to come yourself and brush me up. Buy your ticket for West Point, stop at Garrisons, cross in the ferryboat, and take the omnibus up the hill. Look out both sides all the way up; and the minute you see a grey uniform throw up his cap, get out. I suppose I might run it down the hill, but then if I get in con. and couldn't see you all the time you were here, it wouldn't pay. And Towser'd be sure to be round with his patent magnifiers."
"So I'll go to the edge of limits, and as you don't know where that is, look out. If you get lost, I'll put Towser on the track and he'll know where you are before you know it yourself. I wonder the Phil. Department don't set him to work on the lost Pleiad."
"Heigh-ho! I wish you were here this minute—with your bag full of gingercakes. I was on guard last night, and had nothing to eat but those old cast-iron sandwiches. So we put 'em in the reveille gun and they went off that way. Love to the girls. Don't bring 'em this time, but come yourself."
"Your (very) third class Corporal,
Charlemagne Kindred."
"I enclose a picture of myself which you may like to see."