“But you did not fear.”

“May I ask if you do not regard fear as the feeling caused by a knowledge of danger?”

“I know, Captain,—­I don’t know how I know it,—­but I know that a man may fear and yet do his duty; but there are other men, and I am afraid that I am one of them, who fear and who fail in duty.”

“I congratulate you, sir; I wish all our men would fear to fail in duty,” said he; “we should have an invincible army in such case.  An army consisting, without exception, of such men, could not be broken.  It is those who flee, those who fail in duty, that cause disorganization.  The touch of the elbow is good for the weak, I think, sir; but for the man who will do his duty such dependence should not be taught.  Good men, instructed to depend on comrades will be demoralized when comrades forsake them.  Our method of battle ought to be changed.  Our ranks should be more open.  Many reasons might be urged for that change, but the one we are now considering is enough.  The close line makes good men depend on weak men; when the weak fail, the strong feel a loss which is not really a loss but rather an advantage, if they could but see it so.  Every man in the army ought to be taught to do his whole duty regardless of what others do.  Those who cannot be so taught ought not to fight, sir; there are other duties more suited to them.”

“And I fear that my case is just such a one,” I said.

“There is fear and fear,” said he; “how would you like for me to test you now?”

“To test me?”

“Yes; I can make you a proposition that will test your courage.”  His voice had become stern.

I hesitated.  What was he going to do?  I could not imagine.  But I felt that to reject his offer would be to accept fully the position into which my fears were working to thrust me.

“Do it, Captain,” said I; “make it.  I want to be relieved of this suspense.”

“No matter what danger you run?  Is danger better than suspense concerning danger?”

I reflected again.  At last I brought up all my nerve and replied, “Yes, Captain, danger is better than fear.”

“Why did you hesitate?  Was it through fear?”

“Yes,” said I; “but not entirely through fear; I doubted that I had the right to incur danger uselessly.”

“And how did you settle that?”

“I settle that by trusting to you, Captain.”

He laughed; then he said:  “The test that I shall give you may depress you, but I am sure that you are going to be as good a soldier as Company H can boast of having.  Lieutenant Rhett, only yesterday, remarked that you were the best-drilled man in the company, and showed astonishment that a raw recruit, in less than two weeks, should gain such a standing.  I thought it advisable to say to him that your education had included some military training, and he was satisfied.”  The Captain had dropped his official manner.  “It is clear to me, Jones, that you are more nearly a veteran than any of us.  I know that you have been in danger and have been wounded, and your uniform, which you were wearing then, showed signs of the very hardest service.  I have little doubt, sir, that you have already seen battle more than once.”