what
will be the end of that day!"

"And what matters the end if we do our duty to the last?" spoke
Lord Howe, lifting his bright young face and throwing back his head
with a gesture that his friends knew well. "A man can but die once.
For my part, I only ask to die sword in hand and face to the foe,
doing my duty to my country, my heart at peace with God. That is
the spirit with which we soldiers must go into battle. We are sent
there by our country; we fight for her. If need be we die for her.
Can we ask a nobler death? For myself I do not. Let it come to me
at Ticonderoga, or wherever Providence wills, I will not shrink or
fear. Give me only the power to die doing my duty, and I ask no
more."

There was a beautiful light in his great hazel eyes, a sweet smile
hovered round his lips. Fritz, looking at him, seemed to see
something in his face which he had scarcely noted before--a depth,
a serenity, a beauty quite apart from the dashing gallantry of look
and bearing which was his most salient characteristic.

Into the eyes of Mrs. Schuyler there had sprung sudden tears. She
went over to the young man and laid a hand upon his head.

"Thank God that our soldiers still go into battle in that spirit;
that they make their peace with Him before they draw sword upon
their fellow men. A soldier's life is a strange paradox; yet God,
who is the God of battles as well as Prince of Peace, knows and
understands. He will bless the righteous cause, though He may call
to rest many a gallant soldier, and still in death many an ardent
young heart. But however mysteriously He works, we are instruments
in His hands. Let us strive to be worthy of that honour, and then
we shall know that we are helping to bring nearer His kingdom upon
earth, which, when once set up, shall bring in a reign of peace,
where war shall be no more."

"Amen, with all my heart!" quoth Lord Howe, and there was a light
in his eyes which bespoke that, soldier though he was to his
fingertips, he was no stranger to the hope of the eternal peace
which the Lord alone can give.

Mrs. Schuyler was not a demonstrative woman in daily life; but when
her guest rose to say goodnight upon this last evening, she kissed
him as a mother might, and he kissed her back with words of tender
gratitude and affection.

And so the night fell upon the town of Albany--the night before the
march to Ticonderoga.

Chapter 4: Ticonderoga.

A joyous farewell to friends at Alban