“A Bible!” said the Captain to himself. “This is growing serious.” But he carried the great quarto silently and placed it on the table. It was a very large volume, full of magnificent engravings, which were the sole cause and explanation of its finding a place in Mr. Randolph’s library. He put it on the table and watched Daisy curiously, who disregarding all the pictures turned over the leaves hurriedly, till near the end of the book; then stopped, put her little finger under some words, and turned to him. The Captain looked and read—over the little finger—
“Thou therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.”
It gave the Captain a very odd feeling. He stopped and read it two or three times over.
“But Daisy!”—he said.
“What, Capt. Drummond?”
“What has this to do with what we were talking about?”
“Would you please shut this up and put it away, first?”
The Captain obeyed, and as he turned from the bookshelves Daisy took his hand again, and drew him, child-fashion, out of the house and through the shrubbery. He let her alone till she had brought him to a shady spot, where under the thick growth of magnificent trees a rustic seat stood, in full view of the distant mountains and the river.
“Where is my answer, Daisy?” he said, as she let go his hand and seated herself.
“What was your question, Capt. Drummond?”
“Now you are playing hide and seek with me. What have those words you shewed me,—what have they to do with our yesterday’s conversation?”
“I would like to know,” said Daisy slowly, “what it means, to be a good soldier?”
“Why?”
“I think I have told you,” she said.
She said it with the most unmoved simplicity. The Captain could not imagine what made him feel uncomfortable. He whistled.
“Daisy, you are incomprehensible!” he exclaimed, and catching hold of her hand, he began a race down towards the river. Such a race as they had taken the day before. Through shade and through sun, down grassy steeps and up again, flying among the trees as if some one were after them, the Captain ran; and Daisy was pulled along with him. At the edge of the woods which crowned the river bank, he stopped and looked at Daisy who was all flushed and sparkling with exertion and merriment.
“Sit down there!” said he, putting her on the bank and throwing himself beside her. “Now you look as you ought to look!”
“I don’t think mamma would think so,” said Daisy panting and laughing.
“Yes, she would. Now tell me—do you call yourself a soldier?”
“I don’t know whether there can be such little soldiers,” said Daisy. “If there can be, I am.”
“And what fighting do you expect to do, little one?”
“I don’t know,” said Daisy. “Not very well.”
“What enemies are you going to face?”