Jesu, Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy Bosom fly; While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high; Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past, Safe into the haven guide, O receive my soul at last. "Ay, that's it, that's it," said the Scotchman, "it's a hymn I dinna ken, but it goes to the heart of things. Man, can ye recite to me the twenty-third Psalm?" "Nay," replied Tom, "I forget which it is." "That's because you were born and reared in a godless country," replied the Scotchman. "No Scottish lad ever forgets the twenty-third Psalm, especially those who canna thole the paraphrases. 'The Lord is my Shepherd,' surely ye ken that, Tom?" "Ay," replied Tom eagerly, "I know that." Then the two lads recited the psalm together: "_The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want._ "_He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside still waters._ "_He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His Name's sake._ "_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me._" "Stop there!" said the Scotchman. "That's eno'. It's a' there, Tom; that's why I'm not afraid now. I'm in the valley of the shadow of death, but I dinna fear: the Lord is wi' me, and He's gotten hold of my hand." "You must go now," said the nurse, coming up, "the doctor says you must not stay any longer." "Good-bye," said the Scotchman, with a smile, "it's a' richt; you'll tell my mither, won't you?" "Ay, I will," said Tom. "And--and Tom," said the Scotchman almost eagerly, "although I shall be dead, I shall be near you, and mebbe---- Ay, but we shall meet in a better world, Tom. It's a' richt." As Tom passed through the room where the sick and wounded men lay, he noticed that they looked towards him longingly, wonderingly. The atmosphere of the place seemed charged with something sacred. At that moment Tom knew the meaning of the word Sacrament. The next day the Scotchman died. The nurse was with him to the very last, and just before he breathed his last breath he lifted his eyes to her with a smile. "It's a' richt, nurse," he said, "what my mither taught me was true down to the very foundations." "Ay, it was grand, it was grand!" said Tom Pollard when he heard the news. "It doesn't seem like death at all, it was just victory, victory!" After that Tom did his work with a new light in his eyes. It seemed as though his visit to the Scotchman had removed the last remaining cloud which had hung in the sky of his faith. CHAPTER VIII "Yes," said Colonel Blount to Major Blundell, "there's treachery around; we may as well face it." "A man must be as blind as a bat not to see that," was the Major's reply, "but where is it?"