had struck boldly and
mercilessly. There are widows and orphans in England who must curse me
because I am the cause that their husbands are dead, and that their
fathers are rotting on the hills of India. If I had acted like a savage,
like a brute-beast, like a butcher, all those men would have been alive
to-day. I was merciful, and I was met with treachery; I was
long-suffering, and they thought me weak; I was forgiving, and they
laughed at me."

Mrs. Parsons put her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"You must try to forget it, Richmond," she said. "It's over, and it
can't be helped now. You acted like a God-fearing man; your conscience
is clear of evil intent. What is the judgment of man beside the judgment
of God? If you have received insult and humiliation at the hands of man,
God will repay you an hundredfold, for you acted as his servant. And I
believe in you, Richmond; and I'm proud of what you did."

"I have always tried to act like a Christian and a gentleman, Frances."

At night he would continually dream of those days of confusion and
mortal anxiety. He would imagine he was again making that horrible
retreat, cheering his men, doing all he could to retrieve the disaster;
but aware that ruin only awaited him, conscious that the most ignorant
sepoy in his command thought him incapable and mad. He saw the look in
the eyes of the officers under him, their bitter contempt, their anger
because he forced them to retire before the enemy; and because, instead
of honour and glory, they had earned only ridicule. His limbs shook and
he sweated with agony as he recalled the interview with his chief:
"You're only fit to be a damned missionary," and the last contemptuous
words, "I shan't want you any more. You can send in your papers."

But human sorrow is like water in an earthen pot. Little by little
Colonel Parsons forgot his misery; he had turned it over in his mind so
often that at last he grew confused. It became then only a deep wound
partly healed, scarring over; and he began to take an interest in the
affairs of the life surrounding him. He could read his paper without
every word stabbing him by some chance association; and there is nothing
like the daily and thorough perusal of a newspaper for dulling a man's
brain. He pottered about his garden gossiping with the gardener; made
little alterations in the house--bricks and mortar are like an anodyne;
he collected stamps; played bezique with his wife; and finally,