“I am thankful, sir.”
“Then show it, my lad. Take what comes, like a man; do the best you can for everybody, and leave the rest.”
“I’ll try, sir.”
“Try! nonsense! I know you already, my lad, better than you know yourself. You’ll do it naturally without trying.”
They sat here in that golden glow of shelter for some time in silence, watching their patients and the glittering sea, broken every now and then by the splash of a fish.
“Do you think Mr Morgan will get better, sir?” whispered Mark at last.
“Certainly I do. Why shouldn’t he? A strong healthy man with his wound waiting to heal as soon as he could have rest and proper sleep. What we have gone through was enough to give us all fever, so no wonder a wounded man is so bad. I expected that your father would give up.”
“But he has not, sir.”
“No; mind has kept him from breaking down. He has all the responsibility, you see. You must try and grow up just such a man, my lad.”
There was again a silence, broken at last by the major.