if to warn him against arousing the others. When he had
finished there was silence. It was not Ruth's way to plunge into reply.

"Come," she whispered presently, "I am going to tell the bees. Hans
Brickman told me to-night that 'tis no fancy, but a true thing, that the
bees will leave a hive if death come unless they are told by a member of
the family. The bee-folk are overwise, I know, and I mean to take no
chances of their leaving. With the British at hand, honey is not to be
despised. Come."

Andy followed, wondering, but biding Ruth's time. She was a strange girl
in all her ways.

Without speaking, the two went through the little garden and paused
before the row of neat hives. Then Ruth bent before the first.

"Sam's dead!" she whispered, "but do not fear. We need you, so do not
leave the hive." From hive to hive she went, quite seriously repeating
the sentence in soft murmurings. Andy stood and looked, the moonlight
showing him pale and intent. At last the deed was done, and Ruth came
back to him and laid her firm, brown hand upon his shoulder. She was a
trifle taller than he, so she bent to speak.

"Not even your mother knows you as I do, Andy," she said. "She thinks a
lame leg can cripple a brave soul; but it cannot! Why, even being a girl
could not keep me back if I saw my chance, and I tell you, Andy, your
lameness may serve you well. I have been thinking of that. I do not
believe God ever wastes anything. He can use lame boys and--even girls.
Sam was not wasted. The call made him brave and good. He was coming home
a new creature just because he had heard. When I saw him lying dead,
shot by those lurking cowards, something grew in me here,"--she touched
her breast. "I have not shed one tear, but I loved him as well as the
others. Somehow I knew that since he had been called, it was because he
had a work to do, and since he is gone I mean to be ready to do his
work. Andy, I am as strong as a boy, but--" here her eyes sought his--"I
am a girl for all that, but you and I together, Andy, can do Sam's
work!" The young voice shook with excitement.

"I, Ruth? Ah! do not shame me." Andy's eyes fell before the shining
face.

"Shame you, Andy? I shame you--I who have loved you next best to Sam!
Come. Father has gone to bed, there will be time before mother returns.
I want you to see Sam."

With bated breath the two entered the living-room of the cottage. The
place had been made sacred to the young hero who was