Forgiveness was freely granted, and unalterable love
breathed in every line. With a relieved and thankful heart he went on
reading, when he was arrested by a sudden summons of his company to fall
in. Grasping his rifle he ran out with the rest.

"What is it?" he whispered to a sergeant, as he took his place in the
ranks. "Osman again?"

"No, he's too sly a fox to show face in the day-time. It's a steamer
coming with troops aboard. We're goin' down to receive them, I
believe."

Soon after, the overworked garrison had the immense satisfaction and
excitement of bidding welcome to reinforcements with a stirring British
cheer.

These formed only the advance-guard. For some time after that troops
were landed at Suakim every day. Among them the 15th Sikhs, a splendid
body of men, with grand physique and fierce aspect, like men who "meant
business." Then came the Coldstream Guards, the Scots and the Grenadier
Guards, closely followed by the Engineers and Hospital and Transport
Corps, the Shropshire Regiment, and many others. The desire of these
fresh troops to meet the enemy was naturally strong, and the earnest
hope of every one was that they would soon sally forth and "have a go,"
as Corporal Flynn expressed it, "at Osman Digna on his own ground."

Poor Corporal Flynn! His days of soldiering were nearly over!

Whether it was the excess of strong feeling raised in the poor fellow's
breast by the news of the grand and unexpected legacy, or the excitement
caused by the arrival of so many splendid troops and the prospect of
immediate action--or all put together--we cannot say, but certain it is
that the corporal fell sick, and when the doctors examined the men with
a view to decide who should march to the front, and who should remain to
guard the town, he was pronounced unfit for active service. Worse than
that, he was reported to have entered upon that journey from which no
traveller returns.

But poor Flynn would not admit it, though he grew weaker from day to
day. At last it was reported that he was dying, and Sergeant Hardy got
leave to go off to the hospital ship to see him, and convey to him many
a kind message from his sorrowful comrades, who felt that the regiment
could ill spare his lively, humorous spirit.

The sergeant found him the picture of death, and almost too weak to
speak.

"My dear fellow," said Hardy, sitting down by his cot and gently taking
his hand, "I'm sorry to see you like this.