Oh! how to go on meaning it!"
"That's the thing," said Cecil. "I mean it fast enough at home, and
when my mother talks to me and I look at my brothers' graves, but it
all gets swept away at Eton. It won't now, though, if you are
different, Brownlow. I never liked any fellow like you I knew you
were best, even when you were worst. So if you go in for doing
right, I shan't care for anyone else—-not even Cressham and Bulford."
"If they choose to make asses of themselves they must," said Jock.
"It will be a bore, but one mustn't mind things. I say, Evelyn,
suppose we make that promise of Armine's over again together now."
"It is only the engagement we made when we were sworn into Christ's
army at our baptism," said the much more fully instructed Cecil.
"We always were bound by it."
"Yes, but we knew nothing about it then, and we really mean it now,"
said Jock. "If we do it for ourselves together, it will put us on
our honour to each other, and to Christ our Captain, and that's what
we want. Lay hold of my hand."
The two boys, with clasped hands, and grave, steadfast eyes, with one
voice, repeated together—-
"We, John Lucas Brownlow and Cecil Fitzroy Evelyn, promise with all
our hearts manfully to fight under Christ's banner, and continue His
faithful soldiers and servants to our lives' end.
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