This, however, was not the case, for when the fight was over, his wound, although dangerous, was not supposed to be fatal, and he went into hospital on returning to Suakim. He was a Blue Light, and his temperance habits told in his favour. So did his religion, for the calm equanimity with which he submitted to the will of God, and bore his sufferings, went far to assist the doctor in grappling with his wound. But his religion did more than that, for when he thought of the heaven that awaited him, if he should die, and of being "for ever with the Lord," his heart was filled with joy; and joy not only "does not kill,"--it is absolutely a source of life. In the sergeant's case it formed an important factor in restoring him to partial health. One evening, some time after the battle of McNeill's zereba, Sutherland and Gaspard Redgrave were seated beside the sergeant's bed--cheering him up a bit, as they said--and chatting about the details of the recent fight. Once or twice the sergeant had tried to lead the conversation to religious subjects, but without success, for neither Sutherland nor Gaspard were seriously disposed, and both fought shy of such matters. "Well, it's very kind of you to come an' cheer me up, lads," said Hardy at last; "and I hope I may live to do the same for you, if either of you ever gets knocked over. Now, I want each of you to do me a favour. Will you promise?" "Of course we will," said Gaspard quickly. "If we can," said the more cautious Scot. "Well, then, Gaspard, will you sing me a song? I think it would do me good." "With the greatest pleasure," answered the soldier; "but," he added, looking round doubtfully, "I don't know how they might like it here." "They'll not object; besides, you can sing low. You've got the knack of singin' soft--better than any man I ever heard." "Well, what shall it be?" returned the gratified Gaspard. "One of Sankey's hymns," said the sergeant, with the remotest semblance of a twinkle in his eye, as he took a small hymn-book from under his pillow and gave it to his friend. Gaspard did not seem to relish the idea of singing hymns, but he had often heard the Blue Lights sing them, and could not plead ignorance of the tunes; besides, being a man of his word, he would not refuse to fulfil his promise. "Sing Number 68, `Shall we gather at the river?' I'm very fond of that hymn." In a sweet, soft, mellow voice, that charmed all who were within hearing, Gaspard began the hymn, and when he had finished there was heard more than one "Amen" and "Thank God" from the neighbouring beds. "Yes, comrades, we shall gather there," said the sergeant, after a brief pause, "for the same Almighty Saviour who saved _me_ died for _you_ as well. I ain't used to wettin' my cheeks, as _you_ know, lads, but I s'pose my wound has weakened me a bit! Now Sutherland, the favour I have to ask of--"