And who can tell if at times like these the power of the Nazarene does not pass on to those who go fearlessly forth to minister in the face of death! It would not be so strange if he had passed over innumerable battle-fields and so anointed those who had come to succor that their task was made easier and their burden at least bearable. There was no shelter for any of them that night. They worked in the open, and volunteers came from the ranks to do what they could. The surgeons would have scorned them, but the nurse mustered in a score or more to keep the fires under the kettles burning, to hold supplies and lanterns, to make coffee when the sterilizing basins could be surrendered for the purpose; and she showed those with pocket-knives how to cut away the blood-soaked clothing. Caked with mud herself and desperately hungry, she dressed and comforted as she went. The scene was ghastly--Verestchagin might have painted it--but Sheila saw none of it. It was for her a time exalted, even for those she helped to die. There was no sting in this death. As she passed on and on in the darkness the space about her seemed filled with the shadowy forms of those whom God was mustering out, peacefully, gloriously waiting His command to march into a land of full promise. So acutely did she feel this that a prayer rose to her lips and stayed there, mute, half through the night, that some time she might be given the chance to make this clear for those who mourned at home, to make them feel that death, here, held no sting. In the midst of it Sheila felt a heavy hand laid on her arm, and turned to look into the face of the commander. "Are you the nurse I ordered back two days ago?" "I believe so." "Who ordered you back again?" "No one." "How did you come?" The girl laughed softly. She could not resist the memory of that flight. "Engine went wrong and I--beat it. Don't blame the driver; he did his best to obey orders. I joined the division last night and came on with my chief." "So there's no use in ordering you back?" "None in the least--that is, not so long as the boys are coming in like this." "How long can you stand it?" "As long as they can, sir." And then without rhyme or reason tears sprang into the nurse's eyes, to her great mortification and terror. That would probably finish her; a woman who cried had no place at the front, and the general would dismiss her promptly and with scorn. But he did not. The hand that had touched her arm reached out and gripped her hand. She caught a whimsical smile brushing his lips in the dark. "Good night. When you want your discharge, I'll sign it." He went as swiftly and silently as he had come. The nurse turned back to her work with a sigh of relief. The regiment was hers officially now.