rive away your present fear of yourself, at the
very least."

"How can I do it, Captain?"

"I shall give you one more test."

"Do anything you wish, Captain; only don't propose anything that would
confirm my fear."

"Look at me--now. I am going to count three--understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"When I say 'three,' you will determine to continue in your present
state of mind--"

"No, no, Captain; I can't do that!"

"Why, you've been doing nothing else for the last hour, man! But allow
me to finish. You are going to determine to remain as you are, or you
will determine to conquer your fears. Now, reflect before I begin."

There was a pause.

"Ready!" said the Captain; "hold your teeth together. When I say three,
you act--and act for life or death--ONE--TWO--"

If he ever said three, I did not hear it; at the word "two" all my fears
were gone.

"Well, my friend, how is it now?" he asked gently, even hesitatingly.

"Captain," said; "I am your grateful servant. I shall do my duty."

"I knew, sir, that your will was only sleeping; you must excuse me for
employing a disagreeable device in order to arouse it. If I may make a
suggestion, I would now beg, while you are in the vein, that you will
encourage henceforth, the companionship of the men."

"It will be a pleasure to do so, hereafter, Captain."

"And I am delighted with this little episode, sir," said he; "I am
sincerely glad that the thought of confiding in me presented itself to
your mind, since the result seems so wholesome."

"Good night, Captain," said I.

But he did not let me leave without thus having reasserted his character
as my commander.

"Go back and get all the sleep you can; you will have need for all your
physical strength to-morrow--and after."

I was almost happy.

XXV

IN THE GREAT BATTLE

"If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
Thou'lt not believe thy deeds; but I'll report it."
--SHAKESPEARE.

It is said that a word may change a life. Actually? No, not of itself;
the life which is changed must be ready for the word, else we were
creatures dominated by our surroundings.

I had been a fragment,--a sort of moral flotsam cast up by an unknown
sea,--and I had found a rude harbour in Company H. If I touched a larger
world, it was only through the medium of the company in its relations to
that world. I had formed some attachments,--ties which have lasted
through life t