e her a deucedly better husband than I should have done. I
never liked Bathurst, but I expect it was because he was a better fellow
than most of us--that was at school, you know--and of course I did not
take to him at Deennugghur. No one could have taken to a man there who
could not stand fire. But you say he has got over that, so that is all
right. Anyhow, I have no doubt he will make her happy. Tell her I am
glad, Doctor. I thought at one time--but that is no odds now. I am glad
you are out of it, too.'

"And then he rambled on about shooting Sepoys, and did not say anything
more coherently until late that night. I was sitting by him; he had been
unconscious for some time, and he opened his eyes suddenly and said,
'Tell them both I am glad,' and those were the last words he spoke."

"He was a brave soldier, a fine fellow in many ways," Bathurst said; "if
he had been brought up differently he would, with all his gifts, have
been a grand fellow, but I fancy he never got any home training. Well,
I am glad he didn't die as we supposed, without a friend beside him, on
his way to Lucknow, and that he fell after doing his duty to the women
and children there."

Wilson refused to go home after the loss of his arm, and as soon as he
recovered was appointed to one of the Sikh regiments, and took part in
the final conquest of Lucknow two months after the fight at Cawnpore.
A fortnight after the conclusion of that terrible struggle Sir Colin
Campbell announced to Bathurst that amongst the dispatches that he
had received from home that morning was a Gazette, in which his name
appeared among those to whom the Victoria Cross had been granted.

"I congratulate you heartily, Mr. Bathurst," the old officer said: "I
have had the pleasure of speaking in the highest terms of the bravery
you displayed in carrying my message through heavy fire a score of times
during the late operations."

Great as the honor of the Victoria Cross always is, to Bathurst it was
much more than to other men. It was his rehabilitation. He need never
fear now that his courage would be questioned, and the report that he
had before left the army because he lacked courage would be forever
silenced now that he could write V. C. after his name. The pleasure
of Dr. Wade and Wilson was scarcely less than his own. The latter's
regiment had suffered very heavily in the struggle at Lucknow, and he
came out of it a captain, having escaped without a wound.

A week late