"
"That I must," said Jock; "it would be shabby and sneaking not."
"Oh, Jock," cried Armine, joyfully, "then it will all be right any
way;" and he raised his face and kissed his brother. "You promise,
Jock. Please promise."
"Promise what? That if He will save us out of this, I'll take a new
line, and be as good as I know how, and—-"
Armine took the word, whether consciously or not: "And manfully to
fight under His banner, and continue Christ's faithful soldiers and
servants unto our lives' end. Amen!"
"Amen," Jock said, after him.
After that, Jock found that the child was repeating the Creed, and
said it after him, the meanings thrilling through him as they had
never done before. Next followed lines of "Rock of Ages," and for
some time longer there was a drowsy murmur of sacred words, but there
was no eliciting a direct reply any more; and with dull constern-
ation, Jock knew that the fatal torpor could no longer be broken, and
was almost irritated that all the words he caught were such happy,
peaceful ones. The very last were, "Inside angels' wings, all white
down."
The child seemed almost comfortable-—certainly not suffering like
himself, bruised and strained, with sharp twinges rending his damaged
foot; his limbs cramped, and sensible of the acute misery of the
cold, and the full horror of their position; but as long as he could
shake even an unconscious murmur from his brother, it seemed like
happiness compared with the utter desolation after the last whisper
had died away, and he was left intolerably alone under the solid
impenetrable shroud that enveloped him, and the senseless form he
held on his breast.
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