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Updated: June 29, 2025
She was quite fearless not with dash, but with the steady fearlessness that comes from an ever-present sense of duty, which is the best. She was kind and tender, but she was a little absent. In spirit she was nursing at Capoo; with us she was only in the body. When Charlie Thurkow heard that she had gone into ward number four, he displayed a sudden, singular anger.
Just hold the candle a little closer, will you, please? Thanks yes he is quite dead." We passed on to the next bed. "It is both his duty and his inclination to take care of himself," I said as we went going back with her in the spirit to Capoo. "How do you know it is his inclination?" she asked guardedly. And I knew that I was on the right path.
Can you not see that that is the only thing that can save me from going to Capoo or going mad?" I laid aside my pen, and looked up into her face, which she made no pretence of hiding from me. And I saw that it was as she said. "You can go to work at once," I said, "under Mrs. Martin, in ward number four." When she had left me I did not go on filling in the list from the notes in my pocket-book.
No strategist, but a leader who could be trusted with his country's honour. Upright, honourable, honest, brave and it had come to this. It had come to his sitting shamefaced before a poor unknown sawbones not daring to look him in the face. His duty was plain enough. Charlie Thurkow's turn had come. Charlie Thurkow must be sent to Capoo by his father's orders.
I went towards him, and he, recognizing me, handed me a note which he extracted from the folds of his turban. I opened the paper and read it by the light of the moon. My heart gave a leap in my throat. It was from Fitz. News at last from Capoo. "We have got it under," he wrote. "I am coming down to help you. Shall be with you almost as soon as the bearer."
Some one must go up to Capoo to fight a hopeless fight and die. And old Fitz God bless him! was asking to go. In reply I laughed. "Not if I can help it. The fortune of war is the same for all." Fitz tugged at his moustache and looked gravely at me. "It is hard on the old man," he said. "It is more than you can expect." "Much," I answered. "I gave up expecting justice some years ago.
There was a certain sense of companionship in the thought, though my knowledge and experience told me that our chances of meeting again were very small indeed. We had not heard from Capoo. The conclusion was obvious: they had no one to send. Elsie Matheson soon became a splendid nurse.
"Any news?" she would whisper to me as we went round the beds together; and I knew that she meant Capoo. Capoo was all the world for her. It is strange how some little unknown spot on the earth will rise up and come into our lives never to leave the memory again. "Nothing," I replied with a melancholy regularity.
I fell to wasting time instead. So it was Fitz. I was not surprised, but I was very pleased. I was not surprised, because I have usually found that the better sort of woman has as keen a scent for the good men as we have. And I thought of old Fitz the best man I ever served with fighting up at Capoo all alone, while I fought down in the valley.
If the decision rested with Miss Matheson, which of these two men would she send to Capoo? Perhaps I looked rather too keenly into her face, for she turned suddenly away and drew the gauzy wrap she had thrown over her evening dress more closely round her throat, for the passages were cold.
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