So Thora read the letter. It contained a vivid description of the taking of a certain small battery, which was pouring death and destruction on the little British company, who had gone as a forlorn hope to silence its fire. They were picked volunteers and they were led by Boris Ragnor. He had made a breach in its defences and carried his men over the cannon to victory. At the last moment he was shot in the throat and received a deadly wound in the side, as he tore from the hands of the Ensign the flag of his regiment, wrote Vedder. I saw the fight between the men. I was carrying water to the wounded on the hillside. I, and several others, rushed to the side of Boris. He held the flag so tightly that no hand could remove it, and we carried it with him to the hospital. For two days he remained there, then he was carefully removed to my house, not very far away, and now he has not only one of Miss Nightingale's nurses always with him but also myself. As for Sunna, she hardly ever leaves him. He talks constantly of thee and his father and sister. He sends all his undying love, and if indeed these wounds mean his death, he is dying gloriously and happily, trusting God implicitly, and loving even his enemies--a thing Adam Vedder cannot understand. He found out before he was twenty years old that loving his enemies was beyond his power and that nothing could make him forgive them. Our dear Boris! Oh, Rahal! Rahal! Poor stricken mother! God comfort thee, and tell thyself every minute "My boy has won a glorious death and he is going the way of all flesh, honoured and loved by all who ever knew him." Thy true friend, ADAM VEDDER. [Illustration: He made a breach in its defences and carried his men over cannon to victory.] This letter upset all other considerations, and when Ian came downstairs at the dinner hour, he found no one interested enough in his case to take it up with the proper sense of its importance. Ragnor was steeped in silent grief. Rahal had shut up her sorrow behind dry eyes and a closed mouth. The Bishop had taken the seat next to Thora. He felt as if no one had missed or even thought of him. And such conversation as there was related entirely to the war. Thora smiled at him across the table, but he was not pleased at Thora being able to smile; and he only returned the courtesy with a doleful shake of the head. After dinner Ian said something about going to see McLeod, and then the Bishop interfered--"No, Ian," he replied, "I want you to walk as far as the cathedral with me. Will you do that?" "With pleasure, sir." "Then let us be going, while there is yet a little sunshine." The cathedral doors stood open, but there was no one present except a very old woman, who at their approach rose from her knees and painfully walked away. The Bishop altered his course, so as to greet her--"Good afternoon, Sister Odd! Art thou suffering yet?"