Ch. 17 - The Colonel - Page 2

as young wife and
gray-haired mother forgot their duty for a moment in tender thoughts
of the absent. Only a moment, for in came an attendant with a
troubled face, and an important young surgeon with the well-worn
little case under his arm.

"Bartlett 's dying, marm: could you come and see to him?" says the
man to Mrs. Amory.

"We have got to amputate Porter's arm this morning, and he won't
consent unless you are with him. You will come, of course?" added
the surgeon to Christie, having tried and found her a woman with no
"confounded nerves" to impair her usefulness.

So matron and nurse go back to their duty, and dying Bartlett and
suffering Porter are all the more tenderly served for that wasted
minute.

Like David, Christie had enlisted for the war, and in the two years
that followed, she saw all sorts of service; for Mrs. Amory had
influence, and her right-hand woman, after a few months'
apprenticeship, was ready for any post. The gray gown and comforting
face were known in many hospitals, seen on crowded transports, among
the ambulances at the front, invalid cars, relief tents, and food
depots up and down the land, and many men went out of life like
tired children holding the hand that did its work so well.

David meanwhile was doing his part manfully, not only in some of the
great battles of those years, but among the hardships, temptations,
and sacrifices of a soldiers' life. Spite of his Quaker ancestors,
he was a good fighter, and, better still, a magnanimous enemy,
hating slavery, but not the slave-holder, and often spared the
master while he saved the chattel. He was soon promoted, and might
have risen rapidly, but was content to remain as captain of his
company; for his men loved him, and he was prouder of his influence
over them than of any decoration he could win.

His was the sort of courage that keeps a man faithful to death, and
though he made no brilliant charge, uttered few protestations of
loyalty, and was never heard to "damn the rebs," his comrades felt
that his brave example had often kept them steady till a forlorn
hope turned into a victory, knew that all the wealth of the world
could not bribe him from his duty, and learned of him to treat with
respect an enemy as brave and less fortunate than themselves. A
noble nature soon takes its proper rank and exerts its purifying
influence, and Private Sterling won confidence, affection, and
respect, long before promotion came; for, though he had tended his
flowers like a woman and loved his books like a student, he now
proved that he could also do his duty and keep his honor stainless
as a soldier and a gentleman.

He and Christie met as often as the