Sitting beside the captain, Comethup would have leisure, in the dim
light of the place, to examine the old man's hands as they were folded
calmly over his prayer-book on his lap. The child often wondered how
they could ever have held a sword, and how many people the captain,
in his days of war, had killed; the hands were so soft and white, and
their touch on his own small fingers or on his shoulder had always been
so light and gentle, that it seemed impossible that they could have
been made for any stronger deeds. Comethup was always more desperately
fond of the captain on Sundays than on any other days; partly because
the captain, in his best black coat, and with his hat off, looked so
very small and old and gray and lonely in the big pew, and partly
because Comethup was so passionately grateful to him--perfect old
gentleman that he was--for his kindly patronage of so very small and
insignificant a person as himself. He was quite proud to be seen
walking with the captain out of church, and holding his hand; he
reflected with pardonable vanity more than once that there were very
few people in the world, at least as far as he knew it, who were
privileged to go to church every Sunday with so great a warrior.
The pew behind that in which the captain and Comethup sat was usually
unoccupied; but on one particular Sunday a little commotion was caused
in the quiet old church by the entry of two people into it. They
came late, after the service had commenced, and they made some noise
in getting into their seats. Comethup saw heads turned, and people
whisper among themselves. He would greatly have liked to look round,
as others were doing; he was consumed with curiosity. But the captain
was looking straight in front of him, and even frowning a little, and
Comethup had to do the same.
Comethup came to the conclusion, before the service was ended, that the
newcomers behind them, whoever they might be, had not been taught how
to behave properly in church. One of them, who seemed to be a man, gave
the responses in a very loud key, and sometimes very carelessly quite
in the wrong places; he breathed very heavily--Comethup was almost
persuaded, but that it seemed so terrible, that he snored--during the
sermon; and some one else in the pew moved about a great deal, and
dropped books, and kicked and shuffled with his feet. The captain
grew more and more stern and frowning as the service went on, so that
Comethup was quite afraid at last to look at him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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