ant an' keep in dem limits--but if
yo' does _not_ come back frum dat front, I doan' think I can face dem
two up Norf! I'd jes' feel dat I hadn't done been no body-guard--fo de
Lawd, Colonel Austin, doan't ask me ter face de Boy an' his Mother
'thout you! I ain't goin' ebber ter forget what you don teach me, an'
I'se nebber goin' ter shame yer while I lib, but I can't go 'thout you
to dem--de Lawd knows I can't."

"Under those circumstances I'll be obliged to come back, G. W."
Something choked the soldier's voice. Then bending down he kissed the
boy's dusky brow, as often he had kissed the white one of his own little
son.

"God bless you, comrade!" he whispered. "You've lightened many a burden
for us all since you came among us. I trust you and I may be spared to
meet again."

Then G. W. saw the tall form of the best friend he had on earth pass out
of the tent, and fade away into the confusion and unreality of the
moonlit night.

VII.

THE BATTLE ON THE HILL-TOP.

A strange atmosphere hung over the camp, an air of expectant waiting.
The sick men tossed upon their beds bewailing their inability to be up
and doing, and calling feverishly for "news!" But no news came; nothing
to break the dismal monotony.

Everybody utilized G. W. The cook taught him to cook, and the nurses
made him useful. The sick men smiled up at him as their only diversion.
It was well for the boy that his days were filled with labor, and that
he was too utterly weary at night to stay awake long. His dreams were
filled far oftener than his waking thoughts with visions of the Colonel.
His dreams were always happy ones--then the Colonel appeared well and
jolly as G. W. had first known him. The little fellow hailed bed-time as
the release from wretchedness.

"Now, then!" he would say to himself, as his lids grew heavy, "now I'se
goin' ter see my Colonel Austin!" Sometimes he would laugh aloud in his
sleep, so very jolly was he, but there was no one to hear the sound in
the empty tent. Little G. W. had no folks now. His only good-night was
the bugle-call, "All lights out!"

But in the trenches at the front a brave man always included G. W. in
his loving thoughts of home and dear ones; and up North the Mother and
the Boy ended their evening prayer, "God bless Daddy and G. W. Keep them
safe and bring them home to us very soon!"

No one questioned G. W.'s goings and comings. If any thought was given,
it was that he was probably obeying or