Ah! if she only could have known, what might she not have said to him! Had she said enough? Had she done her duty?--her utmost? Had she pressed Christ and His salvation on him as she ought to have done? Where was Philip now? "Oh, that _had!_ how sad a passage 'tis!"[19] Oh, that _might have been!_ how much sadder! Edward and Harry came in and stood by her. "Can either of you tell me anything more?" she faltered, her eyes riveted on the calm, fixed, white face which would never tell anything more to her. "I can," answered Harry Passmore, softly. "I heard his last words." "O Harry, tell me!" pleaded Celia. "I was stationed just opposite," he said, "and it was my regiment that received the charge. A shot killed the horse of the officer in command, and he too fell. I knew not whether he had received injury himself, and I was so much struck by his youth and bravery that I pressed forward to aid him. But as soon as I saw his face, I found that the shot had struck more than the horse. At this moment my adjutant spoke to me, calling me 'Colonel Passmore.' When he heard that, he saith from where he lay, 'Are you Harry Passmore of Ashcliffe?' 'Yes,' I said, wondering that he could know me. 'You are Celia's brother, then,' quoth he, with the ghost of a smile, 'and so am I. Take this to her. The address is on the fly-leaf.' I was so amazed that I could but utter, 'Are you Philip Ingram?' 'I am,' he saith, his breathing now very quick and short. 'Tell my mother gently. Take care of Celia.' His voice now failed him, and I bent my head close that I might hear anything more. I heard only as if he whispered to himself, 'The uttermost!' Then came a long sobbing sigh, and then all was over." "God forbid that we should limit that uttermost!" murmured Edward, softly. "O Edward!" sobbed his sister, "do you think he is safe?" "My sister," he replied, very gently, "can I tell you more than God does? 'To the uttermost'[20] and 'he that believeth.'[21] But if you had known Philip as I knew him, you would feel with me that something must have happened to him, which had made an immense difference between what he was and is. I cannot think that something anything short of the redeeming love of Christ. God knows, dear, what are the boundaries of His uttermost. I can scarce think they are closer than our uttermosts." "Yet outside the fold is outside," said Celia, falteringly.