The Colonel’s eyes suddenly brightened, and he raised his thin figure in the chair, and his eyes saw into another world.
“Hear the music,” he said. “The band plays very well to-day; it is playing a fine march for the dress parade. Give me my sword.”
Uncle Cesar reached up and took the sword from where it hung over the mantel, and put it gently in the Colonel’s wasted hand. With his feeble strength, the old man drew it half out of its scabbard, and looked at it.
“It is bright,” he said. “There has never been a stain upon it. Here comes the Commanding Officer. Turn out the guard.”
Uncle Cesar, who knew what was at hand, answered reverently:
“Yes, ole Marse. The guard is turnin’ out.”
Then, raising the sword to the salute, the gallant old Colonel heard the last order to fall in, and met, face to face humbly, but without fear and in perfect peace, the Great Commander.
Transcriber’s Note: