“Now will you tell us the very bravest thing that you ever saw any soldier do?” demanded Roy, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

Colonel Manning looked at his little auditor rather thoughtfully.

“I’ve seen a good many brave deeds done,” he said, slowly; “but one stands out in my memory above and beyond them all.”

“Oh, do tell us.”

“It was quite a young lad, a recruit that came to join our regiment when we were in Malta.  He was a fair, curly-headed boy, and seemed quite frightened at the rough life and ways of his comrades.  I happened to be orderly officer one evening, and was going my rounds, when I passed one of the barrack-rooms just before lights were out.  It was in a low building and the windows were open.  The men were noisy, and the first thing I heard was a volley of oaths from one of the oldest soldiers there.  The corporal in charge instead of reproving him, was joining in, and there was a great dispute between a lot of them about some small matter, when this young chap stood up with a flush on his cheeks.  ‘Comrades,’ he cried; ’would any of you allow your mother to be called evil names in the barrack-room?’ His voice rang put so clearly that there was a hush at once, and they turned to him in wonder.  ’You know you wouldn’t,’ he went on; ’and you are ill-treating the name of One who is dearer and nearer to me than any mother—­the best Friend I’ve got.  I tell you, I won’t allow you to do it while I am in the room!’ I remember as I stood there and heard him, and saw the men utterly abashed before the boy, I felt he had a courage that none of us could equal.”

“Is that all?” asked Dudley, with disappointment in his tone.

“Did the men stop swearing?” asked Roy.

“As far as I can remember, they did.  The corporal rebuked them, and lights were put out, but that boy was braver than many a hero on the battlefield.”

The boys’ faces fell.

“But that was not what we call a brave deed,” said Roy, at length.  “Of course it was splendid of him, but it wouldn’t get him the Victoria Cross.”

“No, only a crown of everlasting life, and a word of commendation from the King of Kings,” said the colonel, in a strangely quiet voice; but Roy’s expressive little face kindled at once, and he said no more.  They went into the dining-room to lunch soon, and the boys were too busy enjoying the good things before them to talk much to their elders.  After it was over General Newton sent them out for a run in the garden.  And then when they came in, he asked them if they would like to come upstairs to his old picture gallery.

“I am going to take my friend up, and you can come, too.”

The boys were delighted; they had often heard of this gallery, but had never been in it as General Newton kept it locked up, and very rarely opened it.

“I have some gems amongst the portraits,” he said to Colonel Manning as he unlocked a door in the passage, and led them into a long dusky corridor; “I will pull up the blinds and then we shall see.  They are mostly ancestors, but one or two are by master hands, and two or three royal personages are amongst them.”