The truth flashed upon the veteran. Yes, the boy he loved had gone before him into danger. He no longer hesitated, or lost any time in getting leave to report himself to the commander of the battery.
"What can you do?" was the hurried question put to him, as he stood in the thick powder-smoke, calmly asking for work.
Just then, a gunner was taken off his feet by a cannon-ball.
"I can take this fellow's place, sir," said the old man, grimly.
"Take it!" replied the officer.
The wounded sailor was borne away, and the old drummer, springing to the howitzer, assisted in working it until, its ammunition exhausted, the battery was ordered to withdraw.
During the severest part of the action Mr. Sinjin had observed a person in citizen's dress, with his coat off, briskly handling the cannon-balls. Their work done, he turned to speak with him.
"You are a friend of my young drummer boy, I believe," said the old man.
"Yes, and a friend of all his friends!" cordially answered the white-sleeved civilian.
"You can preach well, and fight well," said the veteran, his eyes gleaming with stern pride.