He was still twitching, and tears were
slipping down his cheeks from under his closed lids; but he no longer
made that dreadful gasping sound, and there was a beautiful expression
on his mouth,--so sweet and patient. "I've not been a soldier 'faithful,
true, and bold,'" he said sadly, "but a miserable coward. Ah! how we
must weary God with our grumblings and complainings, our broken
resolutions and weaknesses. I prayed with all my heart and strength for
Phil, that he might be saved from that crowd. And now that God has
granted my prayer, I bewail His way of doing it. I was willing then to
say, 'At any cost to myself,' and here I am shrinking from the share He
has given me! dreading the pain and loneliness. A faithless soldier,
Jack,--not worthy to be called a soldier."
"Oh! not faithless," I put in eagerly; "indeed, Fee, you're _not_
faithless. Even if you do shrink from this--this trouble--it's only
just here between us; you are going to be brave over it,--you know
you are. _Going_ to be! why, Fee, I think you _are_ the _bravest_ boy!
the truest, noblest--" I had to stop; that lump was just swelling up
in my throat.
"No," Fee said mournfully, drawing his breath in as Kathie does hers
sometimes when she's been crying for a long while; "no, Jack, I'm not
really brave,--not yet! I'm going to bear this only because I
must--because I _can't_ escape it.
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