, recovering himself and
grasping the passive hand of the young soldier with enthusiasm, though
he could not help smiling at his obvious embarrassment, "you seem to
have been raised up to be our rescuer!"
"I hope I have been raised up for something even more satisfactory than
that," thought Miles, but he did not say so! What he did say--in a
stammering fashion--was to the effect that he hoped he might be called
on to--to--render many more such trifling services--no--he did not quite
mean that, but _if_ they should ever again be in danger, he hoped they
would call on him to--to--that is--
"But I hope sincerely," he added, changing the subject abruptly, "that
you are not hurt, Miss Drew?"
"Oh dear no; only a little frightened. But, father, are you sure that
_you_ are not hurt?"
"Quite sure; only a little sprain, I think, or twist in my right ankle.
The attack was so sudden, you see, that in the hurry to meet it my foot
turned over. Give me your arm, my young friend. There; it will be all
right in a few minutes. How you tremble, Marion! Your nerves have
received a greater shock than you imagine, and a lame man is but a poor
support. Give her your other arm, Mr Miles. You are stout enough to
support us both."
Stout enough to support them both! Ay, at that moment Miles felt stout
enough to support the entire world, like Atlas, on his own broad
shoulders! With a blush, that the moon generously refused to reveal,
Marion laid her hand lightly on the soldier's arm. It was much too
light a touch, and did not distribute with fairness the weight of his
burden, for the old gentleman hung heavily on the other arm. Mr Drew
walked very slowly, and with evident pain, for the twist of the ankle
had been much more severe than he at first imagined.
"You will come in and sup with us," said Mr Drew, on at last reaching
the hotel door.
"Impossible. I am exceedingly sorry, but my time has almost expired.
Indeed, I fear it has expired already, and duty comes before everything
else. Your daughter taught me that lesson, sir, on board ship!"
"Oh you hypocrite!" remarked his familiar and plain-spoken internal
friend; "where was this grand sense of duty when you left home in a rage
without `by your leave' to father or mother?" Miles could make no
reply. He had a tendency to silence when this friend spoke, and
returned to barracks in a pensive mood, just in time, as Armstrong said,
to save his bacon.
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