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The one bore the name of William Halket, a young man, who, eight or nine years before he became of much interest either to himself or any other body, was what in our day is called an Arab of the City a poor street boy, who didn't know who his father was, though, as for his mother, he knew her by a pretty sharp experience, insomuch as she took from him every penny he made by holding horses, and gave him more cuffs than cakes in return.
One man said he would do it gladly in Halket's place, if told off; why had he made such a fool of himself? So they chatted till nine o'clock, when the Englishman and Colonial left to turn in. They found Halket asleep, close to the side of the tent, with his face turned to the canvas. And they lay down quietly that they might not disturb him.
Nor was the opportunity lost by Halket, who, unable to understand how she should have called herself Mary Brown, began, in the obscure light of the room, to scrutinize her form and features; and in doing this, he went upon the presumption that this second Mary Brown only carried the name of the first; but as he looked he began to detect features which riveted his eyes; where the reagent was so sharp and penetrating, the analysis was rapid it was also hopeful it was also fearful.
A curious warmth and gladness stole over Peter Halket as he knelt; it was as, when a little child, his mother folded him to her: he saw nothing more about him but a soft bright light. Yet in it he heard a voice cry, "Because thou hast loved mercy and hated oppression " When Trooper Peter Halket raised himself, he saw the figure of the stranger passing from him.
My mother died, and I came here to work as she wrought ay, fifty years ago, and my reward has been the puir boon o' the parish bread; ay, and waur than a' the rest, blindness." "Mary!" said Halket, as he took her emaciated hand into his, scarcely less emaciated, and divested of the genial warmth. The words carried the old sound, and she started and shook.
The men of the two regiments became mixed together; and in a short time the entire force, except the Virginians and the troops left with Halket, were massed in several dense bodies within a small space of ground, facing some one way and some another, and all alike exposed without shelter to the bullets that pelted them like hail.
Sir Peter Halket, with the Forty-Fourth, was to march with the first division; Lieutenant-Colonel Burton with the independent companies, provincials, and artillery, was to form the second; and Colonel Dunbar, with the Forty-Eighth, the third. I confess that when I had become acquainted with these orders, they seemed to me most soldier-like.
He would build a large house in the West End of London, the biggest that had ever been seen, and another in the country, and they should never work any more. Peter Halket sat as one turned into stone, staring into the fire.
But forget this never, whatever his choice may be; that there is laid on him a burden that is laid not on others all space is open to him, and his choice is infinite and if he falls beneath it, let men weep rather than curse, for he was born a Son of God." There was silence again. Then Peter Halket clasped his arms about the stranger's feet. "My master," he cried, "I dare not take that message.
Of course if it comes to souls, my mother's the best person I've ever seen. But what does it help her? She's got to stand washing clothes for those stuck-up nincompoops of fine ladies! Wait till I've got money! It'll be somebody else then, who " "Peter Halket," said the stranger, "who is the greatest; he who serves or he who is served?"
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