The messenger soon returned, a few questions were put to them and answered; a couple of sentries were posted with loaded muskets at the entrance to the bush-path leading to the fort; a man was detailed to keep watch upon the two prisoners; the watch-fire was bountifully replenished with brushwood; and then the camp sank gradually into a state of repose.
Then again the question arose in Gaunt’s mind. In what manner could he best set about the task of preparing his child to meet death unflinchingly? Whilst he was painfully grappling with the problem Percy himself afforded his father an opening of which the latter at once gladly availed himself. Stirring uneasily, and with a sobbing sigh seeming to recover his recollection of where he was and what had happened to him, the little fellow looked up and asked shudderingly:
“What will the Malays do to us, father?—will they kill us?”
“That is as God wills, dear boy,” answered Gaunt with an affected cheerfulness which he was very far from feeling.
“They may or they may not, I cannot tell. But if they do you will not be sorry to die with father, will you?”
“I—I—don’t know,” answered the little fellow, looking terrified. “Will it hurt us?”
“Oh, no,” answered Gaunt, “not at all—nothing, that is, worth thinking or troubling about. It will very soon be over; and then—then, dear boy, when we come to ourselves again, we shall find that, hand in hand, you know, we are going up, and up, and up, higher and higher, toward heaven. And very soon we shall see the glorious light shining upon the jewelled walls of the heavenly city, the New Jerusalem. And as we draw near we shall see the pearly gates unfold to admit us, and God’s holy angels coming to meet us, clad in their white robes. And we shall hear the first sweet sounds of the celestial music. And as we enter in at the gates we shall meet all those dear ones who have gone before us. Dear grandpa, whom you never saw, my precious one, but about whom, you know, I have told you so many pretty stories—he will be there to welcome us; and—”
“Oh, that will be nice!” exclaimed the child with kindling eyes. He meditated for a moment, and then, looking up, he asked eagerly: “When are we going, father?”
“Oh, very soon now, dear,” answered Gaunt, “very soon—perhaps in two or three hours’ time. We can wait patiently until then, can we not?”
“Yes,” answered Percy in a perfectly contented tone of voice. And the father was inwardly congratulating himself upon the ease with which his difficult task had been accomplished—though he of course felt that it would be absolutely necessary to keep the child in that frame of mind by constant conversation until the arrival of the supreme moment—when the little fellow looked up and with sudden anxiety asked: