CHAPTER V.
Mr. VALIANT _summoned. His will. His last words._
Then, said he, "I am going to my Father's.... My Sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my Pilgrimage, and my Courage and Skill to him that can get it." ... And as he went down deeper, he said, "Grave, where is thy Victory?"
So he passed over, and all the Trumpets sounded for him on the other side.
BUNYAN'S _Pilgrim's, Progress_.
Coming out of a hospital-tent, at headquarters, the surgeon cannonadedagainst, and rebounded from, another officer; a sallow man, not young,with a face worn more by ungentle experiences than by age; with wearyeyes that kept their own counsel, iron gray hair, and a moustache thatwas as if a raven had laid its wing across his lips and sealed them.
"Well?"
"Beg pardon, Major. Didn't see you. Oh, compound fracture and bruises,but it's all right. He'll pull through."
"Thank GOD."
It was probably an involuntary expression, for prayer and praise werenot much in the Major's line, as a jerk of the surgeon's head wouldhave betrayed to an observer. He was a bright little man, with hisfeelings showing all over him, but with gallantry and contempt ofdeath enough for both sides of his profession; who took a cool head, awhite handkerchief and a case of instruments, where other men wenthot-blooded with weapons, and who was the biggest gossip, male orfemale, of the regiment. Not even the Major's taciturnity daunted him.
"Didn't think he'd as much pluck about him as he has. He'll do allright if he doesn't fret himself into a fever about poor Jackanapes."
"Whom are you talking about?" asked the Major hoarsely.
"Young Johnson. He--"
"What about Jackanapes?"
"Don't you know? Sad business. Rode back for Johnson, and brought himin; but, monstrous ill-luck, hit as they rode. Left lung--"
"Will he recover?"
"No. Sad business." "What a frame--what limbs--what health--and whatgood looks? Finest young fellow--"
"Where is he?"
"In his own tent," said the surgeon sadly.
The Major wheeled and left him.
* * * * *
"Can I do anything else for you?"
"Nothing, thank you. Except--Major! I wish I could get you toappreciate Johnson."
"This is not an easy moment, Jackanapes."
"Let me tell you, sir--_he_ never will--that if he could have drivenme from him, he would be lying yonder at this moment, and I should besafe and sound."
The Major laid his hand over his mouth, as if to keep back a wish hewould have been ashamed to utter.
"I've known old Tony from a child. He's a fool on impulse, a good manand a gentleman in principle. And he acts on principle, which it's notevery--some water, please! Thank you, sir. It's very hot, and yetone's feet get uncommonly cold. Oh, thank you, thank you. He's nofire-eater, but he has a trained conscience and a tender heart, andhe'll do his duty when a braver and more selfish man might fail you.But he wants encouragement; and when I'm gone--"
"He shall have encouragement. You have my word for it. Can I donothing else?"
"Yes, Major. A favor."
"Thank you, Jackanapes."
"Be Lollo's master, and love him as well as you can. He's used to it."
"Wouldn't you rather Johnson had him?"
The blue eyes twinkled in spite of mortal pain.
"Tony _rides_ on principle, Major. His legs are bolsters, and will beto the end of the chapter. I couldn't insult dear Lollo, but if youdon't care--"
"Whilst I live--which will be longer than I desire or deserve--Lolloshall want nothing, but--you. I have too little tenderness for--mydear boy, you're faint. Can you spare me for a moment?"
"No, stay--Major!"
"What? What?"
"My head drifts so--if you wouldn't mind."
"Yes! Yes!"
"Say a prayer by me. Out loud please, I am getting deaf."
"My dearest Jackanapes--my dear boy--"
"One of the Church Prayers--Parade Service, you know--"
"I see. But the fact is--GOD forgive me, Jackanapes--I'm a verydifferent sort of fellow to some of you youngsters. Look here, let mefetch--"
But Jackanapes' hand was in his, and it wouldn't let go.
There was a brief and bitter silence.
"'Pon my soul I can only remember the little one at the end."
"Please," whispered Jackanapes.
Pressed by the conviction that what little he could do it was his dutyto do, the Major--kneeling--bared his head, and spoke loudly, clearly,and very reverently--
"The Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ--"
Jackanapes moved his left hand to his right one, which still held theMajor's--
"--The love of GOD."
And with that--Jackanapes died.
CHAPTER VI.
"Und so ist der blaue Himmel groesser als jedes Gewoelk darin, und dauerhafter dazu."
JEAN PAUL RICHTER.
Jackanapes' death was sad news for the Goose Green, a sorrow justlyqualified by honorable pride in his gallantry and devotion. Only theCobbler dissented, but that was his way. He said he saw nothing in itbut foolhardiness and vain-glory. They might both have been killed,as easy as not, and then where would ye have been? A man's life was aman's life, and one life was as good as another. No one would catchhim throwing his away. And, for that matter, Mrs. Johnson could sparea child a great deal better than Miss Jessamine.
But the parson preached Jackanapes' funeral sermon on the text,"Whosoever will save his life shall lose it; and whosoever will losehis life for My sake shall find it;" and all the village went and weptto hear him.
Nor did Miss Jessamine see her loss from the Cobbler's point of view.On the contrary, Mrs. Johnson said she never to her dying day shouldforget how, when she went to condole with her, the old lady cameforward, with gentle-womanly self-control, and kissed her, and thankedGOD that her dear nephew's effort had been blessed with success, andthat this sad war had made no gap in her friend's large and happy homecircle.
"But she's a noble, unselfish woman," sobbed Mrs. Johnson, "and shetaught Jackanapes to be the same, and that's how it is that my Tonyhas been spared to me. And it must be sheer goodness in MissJessamine, for what can she know of a mother's feelings? And I'm suremost people seem to think that if you've a large family you don't knowone from another any more than they do, and that a lot of children arelike a lot of store-apples, if one's taken it won't be missed."
Lollo--the first Lollo, the Gipsy's Lollo--very aged, draws MissJessamine's bath-chair slowly up and down the Goose Green in thesunshine.
The Ex-postman walks beside him, which Lollo tolerates to the level ofhis shoulder. If the Postman advances any nearer to his head, Lolloquickens his pace, and were the Postman to persist in the injudiciousattempt, there is, as Miss Jessamine says, no knowing what mighthappen.
In the opinion of the Goose Green, Miss Jessamine has borne hertroubles "wonderfully." Indeed, to-day, some of the less delicate andless intimate of those who see everything from the upper windows, say(well behind her back) that "the old lady seems quite lively with hermilitary beaux again."
The meaning of this is, that Captain Johnson is leaning over one sideof her chair, whilst by the other bends a brother officer who isstaying with him, and who has manifested an extraordinary interest inLollo. He bends lower and lower, and Miss Jessamine calls to thePostman to request Lollo to be kind enough to stop, whilst she isfumbling for something which always hangs by her side, and has gotentangled with her spectacles.
It is a two-penny trumpet, bought years ago in the village fair, andover it she and Captain Johnson tell, as best they can, between them,the story of Jackanapes' ride across the Goose Green; and how he wonLollo--the Gipsy's Lollo--the racer Lollo--dear Lollo--faithfulLollo--Lollo the never vanquished--Lollo the tender servant of his oldmistress. And Lollo's ears twitch at every mention of his name.
Their hearer
does not speak, but he never moves his eyes from thetrumpet, and when the tale is told, he lifts Miss Jessamine's hand andpresses his heavy black moustache in silence to her trembling fingers.
The sun, setting gently to his rest, embroiders the sombre foliage ofthe oak-tree with threads of gold. The Grey Goose is sensible of anatmosphere of repose, and puts up one leg for the night. The grassglows with a more vivid green, and, in answer to a ringing call fromTony, his sisters, fluttering over the daisies in pale-hued muslins,come out of their ever-open door, like pretty pigeons form a dovecote.
And, if the good gossips' eyes do not deceive them, all the MissJohnsons, and both the officers, go wandering off into the lanes,where bryony wreaths still twine about the brambles.
* * * * *
A sorrowful story, and ending badly?
Nay, Jackanapes, for the end is not yet.
A life wasted that might have been useful?
Men who have died for men, in all ages, forgive the thought!
There is a heritage of heroic example and noble obligation, notreckoned in the Wealth of Nations, but essential to a nation's life;the contempt of which, in any people, may, not slowly, mean even itscommercial fall. Very sweet are the uses of prosperity, the harvestsof peace and progress, the fostering sunshine of health and happiness,and length of days in the land.
But there be things--oh, sons of what has deserved the name of GreatBritain, forget it not!--"the good of" which and "the use of" whichare beyond all calculation of worldly goods and earthly uses; thingssuch as Love, and Honor, and the Soul of Man, which cannot be boughtwith a price, and which do not die with death. And they who would fainlive happily EVER after, should not leave these things out of thelessons of their lives.
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