The Hero

th an earnest manner and no sense of humour, quite excellent in a rather unpleasant way; they resembled one another like peas, but none knew whether

that they never shrank from this duty. They were neither well-educated, nor experienced, nor tactful; but blissfully ignorant of these defects, they shepherded their flock with little moral barks, and gave them, rather self-consciously, a good example in the difficult way to eternal life. They

d to the living of Little Primpton while James w

aking hands, "that I hoped you were properly grateful

at her a litt

e had of discussing matters whic

like a short prayer offered up ne

ldn't a

y to thank your Maker for your safe return, and I

aid James, "because we don't want to express

to the spiritual direction of the Vicar and his wife, they had not thought it quite right to decline the proposal. Mrs. Jackson glan

; and he was able to look upon Jamie's prowess-the prowess of an infantryman-from superior heights. He was a great authority upon war, and could tell anyone what were the mistakes in South Africa, and how they might have been avoided; likewise he

ttle Primpton without us," he said

ibborn miss

s," she told her husband, plaintively. "They'r

only infantry," agre

that now she used them unconsciously. Whether ordering meat from the butcher or discussing parochial matters with Mr. Jackson, Mrs. Clibborn's tone and manner were such that she might have been saying the most tender things. She had been very popular in the service, because she was th

t James, quite speechless, her head on one side a

y, and every word sounded like a caress. Then she looked at James again in silent ecstasy. "Colonel P

ll you look

pliments to Mrs. Clibborn; otherwise she grew

how her really

kiss you, James. M

's mother, who didn't appr

assumed a seraphic expression while

n," she murmured to t

propriate attitude-coy, Madonna-like, resigned, as the circumstances might require.

, how beautiful

ne can insinuate himself among the most pious; for soup at middle-day is one of his most dangerous wiles, and it i

esently she looked at him with the melancholy s

us how you won your V

been, notwithstanding, too tactful to ask; but they were wil

oking forward to i

re's anything to t

king at him with happy eyes, a

saw the shortest account in the papers, and

rm of me to tell you about it?

iends here,"

added, making sheep

't refus

ibborn, with a doleful glance. "I

ad been one of her methods in flirtation, covering all excesses under a maternal aspect. She must have told hundreds of young office

ng I did," said James, at last,

eless," said the Vi

a moment, but proc

o save the life of a sub wh

me the salt?" sa

look as near irritation as

re's a good boy,"

y to him alone. The others did not care how much they hurt him so long as they

fair hair and blue eyes, who looked quite absurdly youn

. Clibborn, "I've never heard the

said Mary, with

he'd taken a sort of fancy to me. He was such a nice, bright boy, so enthusiastic and simple.

c smile on her lips, and a fixed

mind that,' I said, and I laughed. 'The first time we most of us do funk it. For five minutes or so you just have to cling on to your eyelashes to prevent yourself from running away, and then you feel all right, and you think it's rather sport.' 'I've got a sort of pres

the hands of Him who has power to turn the bul

re, and there was nothing to fire at but the naked rocks. We had to retire-we couldn't do anything else; and presently I found that poor Larcher had been wounded. Well, I thought he couldn't be left where he was, so I went back for him. I asked him if he could move. 'No,' he said, 'I think I'm hurt in the leg.' I knelt down and bandaged him up as well as I could. He was simply bleeding like a pig; and meanwhile brother Boer potted at us for all he was worth. 'How d'you feel?' I asked. 'Bit dicky; but comfortable. I didn't funk it, did I?' 'No, of course not, you j

ary wiped the tears from their eyes.

the Larchers are n

me whom we met at Simla once,

, with an air of triumph, as though she'd found out

ung man's people, Captain P

cher, the boy's mother, askin

ery grateful t

has no rea

you could t

e he was he might have been alive now. He would have been taken prisoner and sent to Pretori

e fellows who surrendered did the braver thing. It is easy to stand and be shot down, but

ly, I believe, wars will be quite bloodless; rival armies will perambulate, and whenever one side has got into a good position, the ot

cape, it would have been wicked not to h

more about it than

car's lady

ain death for yourself and all your men, and on

wiser not to boast. Certain death is an awful th

ble!" said Ma

to man, in the old way. Ah, life seemed worth living then! One day, I remember, they'd been giving it us awfully hot all the morning, and we'd lost frightfully. At last we rushed their position, and, by Jove, we let 'em

had forgotten where he was, and his father's voice ca

vengeance. I hope I did my duty, but I never forgot that my enemy was a fellow-creature. I never felt joy at killing, but pain and grief. War is in

ual on both sides; in every question there is about as much to be said on either part, and in

't both b

generally six to one and

man, think the Boers were justified?" ask

s la

r nation, and they have been beaten; it is only natural that sympathy should be with them. It was with the French for the same reason, after the Franco-Prussian War. But we, who were fighting, couldn't think of sentiment; to us it was really a matter of life and death, I was intere

at him with surprise, even with cons

. The object of war is not to do glorious actions, but to win. Other things being equ

Mary. "The only excuse for war is that it brings out the nobl

nt. War in one way and another is at the very root of life. War is not conducted only by fire and sword; it is in all nature, it is the condition of existence for all created things. Even the wild flowers in the meadow wage war, and they wage it more rut

said Mary. "Have y

ave broken the spirit of mankind. The general in battle now is afraid to strike because men may be killed. Sometimes it is worth while to lose men. When we become soldiers, we know that we cease to be human beings, and are merely the instrumen

ain unspoken. His father, in pity and in humanity, had committed just such a fatal mistake, and trying tender-heartedly to save life had brought about death and disaster. He would

ed on James with horror and pain; he looked like some hunted animal, te

ght James. "How can I

noses. James looked at his father. He wanted to show how bitterly he regretted the pain he had caused, but knew not what to say

the school children were without, to welcome Ca