avely.

"Oh, G. W.!" cried the Mother, holding her hands toward him from where
she stood, the tears raining down from her bright eyes. "Oh, G. W., you
brave child, I did not know you were so _very_ small!"

G. W. had never seen such a vision of loveliness as the lady was; but he
was afraid of her.

"How can I help kissing you, you blessed child!" she went on, coming
close.

Kissing him! G. W. glanced about wildly.

The lady's eyes filled up with bright tears anew. "No, I will not kiss
you, G. W. Of course not. You see I do not know very well just what it
is safe to do with such small-sized heroes as you and Jack!"

She turned to the Boy, who had stood motionless, looking on. "Jack," she
said, "it _is_ our G. W., Daddy's body-guard."

Jack came forward. There was a suggestion of lace and curls about him
perhaps, but his face gave G. W. a feeling of firm ground under his feet
at last.

"Hello!" said Jack, and held out a plump white hand.

"Hello!" G. W. replied, and laid his thin brown fingers slowly in the
other's grasp.

The moment while Jack stood by the little soldier's bed was long enough
for the two boys to eye each other well.

Jack spoke first. "You saved my father, G. W.,--you are a brick!
Whatever I've got, you can have half of it."

"Did you see dat hoss by de do'?" said G. W., after a moment. "Dat hoss
is mine! You--can--take--de fust ride! An' dis is my tent, my Colonel
give it to me, an' dis an' all dat I'se got b'longs ter you half!"

Then they smiled broadly into each other's faces, forgetting the
onlookers.

"We're going to be just like brothers," whispered Jack Austin. That was
the thought that floated through the dusky little bodyguard's dreams
that night as he slept in the little tent beside the Colonel's.

And the Mother's words to the Colonel mingled with Jack's: "The boys'll
have a good time!"

And the tall light-house on the Point blazed out its message to the
sailors upon the sea, "All's well! All's well!" And to the brave
soldier-boys sleeping within its shadow it sent down soft rays of light
that breathed, "All's well! All's well!"

On his cot poor weak little G. W., waking in the moonlight, smiled and
sighed with content, then smiled again.

XII.

A HISTORY-EVENING AT OAKWOOD.

"G. W., stand up in front of me, and answer!"

G. W. took position and looked unflinchingly into the eyes of his
Colonel.

The rapturous life at Montauk was a thing of the past--the