atter part of the journey had
to be done on foot by those who could walk, and on stretchers by those
who could not.

Oh! it was pitiful to see those battered, sunburnt, bloodless young men,
with deep lines of suffering on their faces, aged before their time, and
the mere wrecks of what they once were. Men who had gone to that region
strong, active, ruddy, enthusiastic, and who, after a few months,
returned thus feeble and shattered--some irreparably so; others with
perhaps years of joyless life before them; a few with the unmistakable
stamp of death already on their brows.

There were about forty altogether. Some, as we have said, were carried
from the vessel, and not one of the forlorn band could get on without
the assistance of their fresh comrades from England.

One tall, deep-chested young soldier, who must have been a splendid
specimen of manhood when he landed in Egypt, was supported on one side
by Miles, and on the other by Stevenson.

"Halt a moment," said the invalid, in a weak voice and with an
apologetic smile. "I--I can't get along quite as fast as I used to."

His trembling legs and bowed back did not require the tongue or the
large sunken eyes to confirm that obvious truth.

"Poor fellow!" said Miles--with difficulty, owing to the lump in his
throat--"you ought to have had a stretcher. Here, sit down a bit on
this stone. Have you been wounded?"

"Ay," returned the man with a look of quiet resignation that seemed to
have become habitual to him, "I have been wounded, but not by spear or
bullet. It's the climate that has done for me. I used to think that
nothing under the sun could quell me, but the Lord has seen fit to bring
down my pride in that matter. At the same time, it's only fair to say
that He has also raised me up, and given me greater blessings than He
has taken away. They told me in Portsmouth that He would, and it has
come true."

"At the Institute?" asked Stevenson, eagerly.

"Ay--the Soldiers' Institute," answered the invalid.

"God bless you!" returned the marine, grasping his hand. "It was there
I was brought to God myself. Cheer up, brother! You'll soon be in
hospital, where good food an' physic an' nursing will bring you round,
may-hap, an' make you as ship-shape as ever."

"It may be so, if He wills it so," returned the trooper softly; "but I
have a little book called `Our Warfare,' and a letter from the
`Soldier's Friend' in my pocket, which has done me more good