"Come, that is good. That was well said. You understand too, I see, Molly. I e'en thought it must be so—you, a British Colonel's daughter! And you'll both bid me God-speed. And when Napoleon is beaten, and old England is again in safety, I'll come back, and be grannie's home-boy once more. Eh, ma'am?"
"Yes, yes, Jack; yes, my dear boy." Mrs. Fairbank did her best to control her voice, and as usual when agitated she knitted at railway speed. "You will do your duty, Jack. I am sure of it. And General Moore will be a good friend to you."
"But now I have somewhat else to show you all, in return for Molly's poetry," observed Jack in cheerful tones, anxious to prevent a breakdown on the part of his grandmother. "What do you think it may be, Molly? Guess, all of you. Must I tell? Well, 'tis nought less than two letters about our Hero, which his mother let me see. They are writ some four years since to the General's father, Dr. Moore; the one from Sir Ralph Abercrombie, and the other from Sir Robert Brownrigg, who was secretary to the Duke of York, and Adjutant-General. Nay, these are not the originals, for I can assure you 'twould be no easy task to get them out of Mrs. Moore's keeping. But she permitted me to take copies of the same, and they are here. The engagement spoken of was that on the second of October, in 1799, between the English and the French in Holland; and General Moore was wounded early in the action, but nevertheless he fought on until wounded a second time. These, to his father afterwards, both make mention of his wounds. Shall I read?"
"Pray do so, my dear Jack," said Mrs. Fairbank; and, "O do, Jack!" entreated Polly.
Jack obeyed.
"'Headquarters. Zuper Sluys, Holland. October 4th, 1799.
"'My dear Sir—I cannot suffer the accompanying letter from my dear friend, your son, to go to you, without assuring you that the wounds he has received are attended with no danger. Mr. Knight, the Duke's surgeon, attends him, and gives hope of his speedy recovery. The wound in his thigh he received early in the action, but it did not prevent him from continuing his exertions for two hours afterwards, when a wound in his face obliged him to leave the field. It is through the cheek, and I understand has not wounded the bone. His conduct in the serious action of the 2nd, which perhaps may be ranked among the most obstinately contested battles that have been fought this war, has raised him, if possible, higher than he before stood in the estimation of this army. Everyone admires and loves him; and you may boast of having as your son the most amiable man and the best General in the British service; this is a universal opinion, and does not proceed from my partiality alone.
"'God bless you, my dear Sir. I hope in a few days to have it in my power to tell you that considerable progress is made in Moore's cure; and believe me, with great respect and regard,
"'Very faithfully yours,
"'Robert Brownrigg.'"
Jack paused, and repeated thoughtfully, "'Everyone admires and loves him—the most amiable man and the best General in the British service!' Yet by nature his is no easy temper, ma'am; of that his mother could assure me. She said that her son—ever the best of sons to her—gave her in his boyhood many an anxious hour, by reason of his hot and impulsive moods, and his readiness to fight. But listen now to the letter of Sir Ralph himself—