encamped on the
opposite shore, and is preparing to attack."

Half an hour afterward Mrs. Thorndyke came anxiously to the door of the
study. Hearing cheerful voices within, she knocked, and was bidden to
enter.

Her first glance was at little David's face. To her surprise, she saw
there neither fear nor nervousness, only an excited shining of the eyes
and an unusual flushing of the cheeks. The boy rose to meet her.

"I'm ready, mammy," he announced in his childish treble. "Uncle Arthur
says I've got a chance to prove I'm a soldier's son and a Thorndyke, and
I'm going to do it. The enemy's encamped over in the hospital, and I'm
going to move on his works to-day. I'm going over with my staff. This is
Corporal Thorndyke, and Colonel Chester Thorndyke and Captain Stephen
Thorndyke and Lieutenant Stuart Thorndyke are my staff. And the corporal
has promised that they'll go with me in uniform. I'm going to wear my
uniform, too--may I?"

The oddness of the question, made in a tone which dropped suddenly and
significantly from the proud address of the officer to the humble
request of the subaltern, brought a very tender smile to Mrs.
Thorndyke's lips, as she gave her brother a grateful glance. "Yes," she
said, "I think you certainly ought to wear your uniform. I'll get it
ready."

"I may be taken prisoner over there," the little soldier pursued, "but
if I do, Uncle Ar--the corporal says that's the fortunes of war, and I
must take it as it comes."

Downstairs, presently, David, under a flag of truce, met the opposing
general and his staff. The bluff-looking Englishman with the kind manner
made an excellent general, David thought.

They detained him only a half-hour, but when he left them it was with
the understanding that his army should move forward at once and attack
upon the morrow. It seemed a bit unusual, not to say unmilitary, to
David, to arrange such matters so thoroughly with the enemy, but his
corporal assured him that under certain conditions the thing was done.

There being no other part of the "Charge" that would fit, David said
over to himself a great many times on the way to the hospital the
opening lines:

"Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward.
All in th' valley of Death
Rode th' six hundred...."

As he went up the hospital steps, tap-tapping on his crutches because he
would not let anybody carry him, the situation seemed to him much
better. He stopped upon the top