rm. 'I say, I can't carry
you now,' I said; 'for God's sake, buck up.' He opened his eyes, and I
prevented him from falling. 'I think I can stand,' he said, and as he
spoke a bullet got him in the neck, and his blood splashed over my face.
He gave a gasp and died."

James finished, and his mother and Mary wiped the tears from their eyes.
Mrs. Clibborn turned to her husband.

"Reggie, I'm sure the Larchers are not a county family."

"There was a sapper of that name whom we met at Simla once, my dear,"
replied the Colonel.

"I thought I'd heard it before," said Mrs. Clibborn, with an air of
triumph, as though she'd found out a very difficult puzzle. "Had he a
red moustache?"

"Have you heard from the young man's people, Captain Parsons?" asked
Mrs. Jackson.

"I had a letter from Mrs. Larcher, the boy's mother, asking me to go
over and see her."

"She must be very grateful to you, Jamie."

"Why? She has no reason to be."

"You did all you could to save him."

"It would have been better if I'd left him alone. Don't you see that if
he had remained where he was he might have been alive now. He would have
been taken prisoner and sent to Pretoria, but that is better than
rotting on the veldt. He was killed because I tried to save him."

"There are worse things than death," said Colonel Parsons. "I have often
thought that those fellows who surrendered did the braver thing. It is
easy to stand and be shot down, but to hoist the white flag so as to
save the lives of the men under one--that requires courage."

"It is a sort of courage which seemed not uncommon," answered James,
drily. "And they had a fairly pleasant time in Pretoria. Eventually, I
believe, wars will be quite bloodless; rival armies will perambulate,
and whenever one side has got into a good position, the other will
surrender wholesale. Campaigns will be conducted like manoeuvres, and
the special correspondents will decide which lot has won."

"If they were surrounded and couldn't escape, it would have been wicked
not to hoist the white flag," said Mrs. Jackson.

"I daresay you know more about it than I," replied James.

But the Vicar's lady insisted:

"If you were so placed that on one hand was certain death for yourself
and all your men, and on the other hand surrender, which would you
chose?"

"One can never tell; and in those matters it is wiser not to boast.
Certain death is an awful thing, but our fathers preferred it to
surrender."

"