forgotten. I shall never forget you, Serge, as long as
I live."

"Shan't you, boy?" said the man, smiling sadly. "Well, thank ye. I
don't think you will. I like that, boy, for you never seemed like a
young master to me. I'm old and ugly, while you're young and handsome,
but somehow we have always seemed to be companions like, and whatever
you wanted me to do I always did."

"Yes, that you did, Serge," cried Marcus, laughing.

"I don't see nothing to laugh at, boy," said the old soldier, bitterly,
as he half drew Marcus' blade from its scabbard, and then thrust it
fiercely back with a sharp snap.

"No, but I do," said Marcus, "sad as all this is. It seems so droll."

"What does?" cried the man, fiercely.

"For you to talk about being old and ugly--you, such a big, strong,
manly fellow as you are. Why, you are everything that a man ought to
be."

"What!" cried the old soldier, gazing wonderingly at the boy, a puzzled
look in his eyes as if he was in doubt whether the words to which he
listened were mocking him.

"Why, look at you! Look at your arms and legs, and the way in which you
step out, and then your strength! The way in which you lift heavy
things! Do you remember that day when you took hold of me by the belt
and lifted me up, to hold me out at arm's length for ever so long when I
was in a passion and tried to hit you, and the more I raged the more you
held me out, and laughed, till I came round and thought how stupid I was
to attack such a giant as you, when I was only a poor feeble boy?"

"Nay, nay, you were never a poor feeble boy, but always a fine, sturdy
little chap, and strong for your years, from the very first. That was
partly my training, that was, and the way I made you feed. Don't you
remember how I told you that it was always a soldier's duty to be able
to fast, to eat well when he had the chance, and go without well when he
hadn't, and rest his teeth?"

"Oh, yes, I recollect you told me it was the way to grow up strong and
hearty, and that some day I should be like you."

"Well, wasn't that true enough? Only it takes time. And so you thought
I was quite a giant, did you?"

"Yes, and so I do now. Old and worn out! What stuff! Why, Serge, I
have always longed and prayed that I might grow up into a big, strong,
fine-looking man like you."

"Thank you, my lad," said the man, sadly, and with the beaming smile
that had come upon his face dying out, to leave it cold and dull