“Boy, life’s a big campaigning ground, where every man is under orders from a general he doesn’t even see. Sometimes it’s his good luck to march shoulder to shoulder with a friend for a bit, even to fight shoulder to shoulder with him. But an order may come suddenly, and the one marches off to some other place where he is wanted, or where promotion is quicker. Old and young, rich and poor, gentle and simple, we’re all under orders, boy, and if at the last, when the fight is done, there’s a comrade beside us to close our eyes and hold our hand for the last time—well, the great general has been merciful, that’s all.”
He paused for a moment, then sat down on the window seat and shaded his eyes with his hand.
“If it should happen that you have to go out into the great world now, as you surely must go some day—well, I’d be a poor fellow, and a bad friend, and no true soldier, if I held you back. It may not happen now, but—if it does”—he looked up quickly and smiled at the boy—“we sha’n’t be the worse friends, Comethup, and we sha’n’t forget each other—shall we?”
Comethup’s heart was almost too full to reply, but he gasped out, “No, sir,” and the captain got up with a smile.
“That’s well, boy. Now, I suppose your aunt will be expecting you, and you’d better go back to her. Please let me know what she proposes you should do, and when you are to leave us, if you go at all.”
Comethup saluted gravely and went out of the house with a heavy heart. At the inn he found his aunt impatiently walking up and down her sitting room; she stopped as he entered and addressed him by name, although he had not spoken.
“Well, Comethup, settled it with the captain, eh?”
“I’ve had dinner with him,” replied Comethup evasively.
“Ah—and talked about me the whole time, I’ll warrant! Well, I’m sure I don’t mind, and you don’t either of you know enough of me to say any harm.”
“I do assure you, aunt,” said Comethup, “that the captain spoke most highly of you.”