She saw that this group consisted of a surgeon, a chaplain and a nurse. Presently the chaplain knelt by the bed, and began to pray in a low tone, audible only to the patient on the bed, and the people who stood around it.
In a few minutes the chaplain arose, stood silently by the patient for awhile, and then, with the surgeon, left the ward. And the nurse drew the sheet up over the face of the dead.
And though all passed so quietly, Elfie knew that a soldier’s soul had departed.
Some twenty minutes passed away, and then four men came in at the lower door, with a bier, upon which they placed the mattress with the dead man, and carried him out.
And all this was accomplished silently, without disturbing the other patients in the ward.
The nurse, when her duties to the dead were done, came softly stepping up to Elfie’s side.
“Some poor fellow has gone to his rest. Who was it?” inquired Elfie.
“Poor young Carnes, the boy in whom Miss Rosenthal was so much interested. We have been expecting his death for many days. And now he is gone. He passed away perfectly conscious and perfectly resigned. And he left his love, and his little pocket testament to Miss Rosenthal,” said the nurse. And then she went her way to her other duties.
Tears stood in Elfie’s eyes.
“And yet he is only one among thousands and thousands who have perished like him, in the flower of their youth. Oh, this war! this war!” she sighed.