"I must have these things!" she said quietly. "My men are dying for lack of them."
The under-official stammered and turned pale; he did not wish to disobey her, but—it meant a court-martial for him if he disobeyed the rules of the service.
"You shall have no blame," said the Lady-in-Chief. "I take the entire responsibility upon myself. Open the door!"
The door was opened, and in a few moments the sick men had the stimulants for lack of which they were sinking into exhaustion.
When Miss Nightingale arrived at Scutari, the death rate in the Barrack Hospital was sixty per cent; within a few months it was reduced to one per cent; and this, under heaven, was accomplished by her and her devoted band of nurses. Do you wonder that she was called "The Angel of the Crimea?"
[CHAPTER XI.]
THE LADY WITH THE LAMP.
Whene'er a noble deed is wrought,[5]
Whene'er is spoken a noble thought,
Our hearts, in glad surprise,
To higher levels rise.
The tidal wave of deeper souls
Into our inmost being rolls,
And lifts us unawares
Out of all meaner cares.