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Dick feared the passing of the minutes which would bring back the chaplain, and yet every minute seemed an eternity. The conflict ravaged his very soul. Was he to take the chance offered him by the strangest trick of Destiny, or remain and die like a rat caught in a trap? 'Mas'r Dick. The door was quietly opened. The old groom's hand fell on his arm and drew him firmly outwards.
I beg your pardon, Ellen give me that pencil. I'll sign my own name I'll witness this myself! There's a regimental chaplain with our command if we can't find a preacher left in Charlottesville." "Orderly!" I called, with a gesture asking permission of my superior. "Yes, orderly," he finished for me, "get ready to ride to town. We have an errand there."
The man on whose breast shone the cross of Saint Louis bowed his head, and at a sign of Count Boisberthelot two sailors went down to the gun-deck, and presently returned bringing the hammock-shroud, the two sailors were accompanied by the ship's chaplain, who since the departure had been engaged in saying prayers in the officers' quarters.
"How the lad has grown!" said the captain, tears of pride starting into his eyes, in spite of a very manful resolution to appear composed and soldier-like. "I was about to remark that myself, captain," observed the chaplain. "I do think Mr. Robert has got to his full six feet every inch as tall as you are yourself, my good sir." "That is he, Woods and taller in one sense.
Well, I was mindful of your counsel, and did not flog him, nor let my chaplain do so, though I know the good man's fingers itched to be at him; but I reasoned with him on the harm he was doing me, and would you believe it, the poor lad burst into tears, and implored me to give him something to do, to save him from his own spirit.
As there were no signs or indications of any enemy in the town, and everything around was so quiet and sleepy, I couldn't understand what these ominous preparations meant. Happening to notice the old chaplain a short distance in the rear of our company, I slipped out of ranks, and walked back to him for the purpose of getting a pointer, if possible.
There is, of course, a Chaplain in the Establishment: a Reverend "M. Deschamps;" who preaches to them all, in French no doubt. Friedrich never hears Deschamps: Friedrich is always over at Ruppin on Sundays; and there "himself reads a sermon to the Garrison," as part of the day's duties.
There was a rumbling of heavy carts somewhere beyond the village, a crack or two of a whip, the barking of a dog. Then they turned again and went up to the house. It was the chaplain who was late this evening for supper. The others waited a few minutes by the fire, but there was no sign of him.
As he thought well of the young men who left his drawing-room by ten o'clock, so he placed in a higher estimate those who attended chapel regularly, especially if they got there in proper time. There was no regular chaplain, but the ministers of the different denominations who had churches in the village undertook, by turns, to perform a month's service.
Be my chaplain, and tell me." This question I could not answer: I had no words. It seemed as if she thought I had answered it. "Very right, my child. We should acknowledge God merciful, but not always for us comprehensible. We should accept our own lot, whatever it be, and try to render happy that of others. Should we not? Well, to-morrow I will begin by trying to make you happy.
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