thoughts are rising in my mind? Is it thou who hast shown me, all the
way I have been drawn to meet this man, the blessings of the altered
time? Is it thou who hast sent thy stricken mother to me, to stay my
angry hand? Is it from thee the whisper comes, that this man did his
duty as thou didst,--and as I did, through thy guidance, which has wholly
saved me here on earth,--and that he did no more?"

He sat down, with his head buried in his hands, and, when he rose up,
made the second strong resolution of his life,--that neither to the
French officer, nor to the mother of his departed friend, nor to any
soul, while either of the two was living, would he breathe what only he
knew. And when he touched that French officer's glass with his own, that
day at dinner, he secretly forgave him in the name of the Divine Forgiver
of injuries.

* * * * *

Here I ended my story as the first Poor Traveller. But, if I had told it
now, I could have added that the time has since come when the son of
Major Richard Doubledick, and the son of that French officer, friends as
their fathers were before them, fought side by side in one cause, with
their respective nations, like long-divided brothers whom the better
times have brought together, fast united.




CHAPTER III--THE ROAD