CHAPTER V. Mr. VALIANT _summoned. His will. His last words._ Then, said he, "I am going to my Father's.... My Sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my Pilgrimage, and my Courage and Skill to him that can get it." ... And as he went down deeper, he said, "Grave, where is thy Victory?" So he passed over, and all the Trumpets sounded for him on the other side. BUNYAN'S _Pilgrim's, Progress_. [Illustration] Coming out of a hospital-tent, at headquarters, the surgeon cannonaded against, and rebounded from, another officer; a sallow man, not young, with a face worn more by ungentle experiences than by age; with weary eyes that kept their own counsel, iron gray hair, and a moustache that was as if a raven had laid its wing across his lips and sealed them. "Well?" "Beg pardon, Major. Didn't see you. Oh, compound fracture and bruises, but it's all right. He'll pull through." "Thank GOD." It was probably an involuntary expression, for prayer and praise were not much in the Major's line, as a jerk of the surgeon's head would have betrayed to an observer. He was a bright little man, with his feelings showing all over him, but with gallantry and contempt of death enough for both sides of his profession; who took a cool head, a white handkerchief and a case of instruments, where other men went hot-blooded with weapons, and who was the biggest gossip, male or female, of the regiment. Not even the Major's taciturnity daunted him. "Didn't think he'd as much pluck about him as he has. He'll do all right if he doesn't fret himself into a fever about poor Jackanapes." "Whom are you talking about?" asked the Major hoarsely. "Young Johnson. He--" "What about Jackanapes?" "Don't you know? Sad business. Rode back for Johnson, and brought him in; but, monstrous ill-luck, hit as they rode. Left lung--" "Will he recover?" "No. Sad business." "What a frame--what limbs--what health--and what good looks? Finest young fellow--" "Where is he?" "In his own tent," said the surgeon sadly. The Major wheeled and left him. * * * * * "Can I do anything else for you?" "Nothing, thank you. Except--Major! I wish I could get you to appreciate Johnson." "This is not an easy moment, Jackanapes." "Let me tell you, sir--_he_ never will--that if he could have driven me from him, he would be lying yonder at this moment, and I should be safe and sound." The Major laid his hand over his mouth, as if to keep back a wish he would have been ashamed to utter.