Again I nodded assent. "D'ye know
what became ov 'im?"

"He was missing on the field," I replied.

"'E's dead," said the man.

Then he described to me the last moments of my friend. It appeared
that Creedan and this man fell together on the field, Creedan shot
through the abdomen; this man, through the shoulder. An officer came
along and offered Creedan a mouthful of water, but he refused, saying
he was all in, but that he wanted to send a message to his chum, and
this is the message he gave to the man who had threatened to punch my
head:

"Tell Irvine the anchor holds!"

I was moved, of course, by the recital of this story; so was the man
who told it.

"What in 'ell did 'e mean by th' anchor 'oldin'?" the man asked.

"Old man," I said, "I had been trying for a long time to lead Creedan
to a religious life, and the story you tell is the only evidence that
I ever had that he took me seriously."

The man looked as if he were going to weep, and in a quivering voice
he asked if I could help him. He was going home to marry a maiden in
Kent whom he described as "a pure good girl." He felt unworthy, for he
was a gambler and a periodical drunkard, and he thought that if a man
like Creedan could be helped, he could.

I struck the iron while it was hot, and said: "There is a good deal to
be done for you, but you have to do it yourself! If you've got the
grit in you to face these fellows and make a confession of religion
right here and now, I will guarantee to you that you'll land on the
shores of England a new man."

He looked at me for a moment with a stern, hard face, then he said:

"By God, I'll do it!" There was no profanity in this assertion. It was
the strongest way he could put it; and we dropped on our knees on the
deck and began to pray. In a minute or two half a dozen others joined
us. Then it seemed as if everybody around us was on his knees; and
then, when I felt the atmosphere of the crowd and the reverence of it,
I called on others to pray; half a dozen others responded, and then
this man, above the roar of the wind through the sails and the
creaking of the boats' davits, prayed to God to make him a new man.

Creedan had been drafted from the ship in a detachment for the front,
and when we met on the desert, we entered into a compact which
stipulated that if either of us fell on the field of battle, the
survivor was to take charge of the deceased's effects, and visit his
people.

The arrival of the