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His Big Opportunity

<h2>XVII</h2> ROY'S BIG OPPORTUNITY "Roy, Mrs. Hawthorn wants you. She has got some letters for you." Dudley came up excitedly to Roy, directly after dinner was over one Saturday afternoon. "And I say," he continued; "bring them out and let us go down to the beach to read them together. The tide will be out till the evening." Roy hastened off, and wondered at Mrs. Hawthorn's grave look. "Your aunt has sent me some letters to give you, Roy. She has only just received them herself. They are about your friend in India." "From Rob?" said Roy, with sparkling eyes. "Oh, I thought he never would write. How jolly! And I see his writing, that's my letter." He held out his hand eagerly but Mrs. Hawthorn laid her hand on his shoulder gently. "Yes, that was a letter he wrote to you before the fighting. Your aunt has heard since—from a nurse who nursed him." Something in her tone frightened Roy. "Has he been wounded? He is well again, isn't he?" "He is quite well now," she said, in a hushed voice. For a minute Roy gazed at her, with horror and doubt dawning in his dark eyes, then snatching the letters out of her hand he rushed out of the room; and seizing hold of Dudley in the hall he exclaimed almost frantically: "Dudley, something awful has happened to Rob, let us get away from the house and read these letters." He held them tightly in his hand, and would not let Dudley take them from his grasp, till they reached the beach. Then sitting down and leaning against an old weather-beaten rock, Roy, with trembling fingers, first unfolded Rob's letter to himself. "MY DEAR MASTER ROY: "We are going up to the mountains to-morrow to fight. The men say it will be stiff work, driving an old chief from his stronghold. Some of them don't like it, but I am ready. I am a better writer now, I hope, so want to tell you what I never have yet. I do thank you with all my heart for being so kind to a homeless lad and taking him in and giving him a happy home. And I thank you much more for teaching him to read and write and giving up your playtime to get him on. But if I was to thank you for a hundred years, I couldn't thank you enough for telling me about my Saviour and showing me the way to heaven. Every word you ever said is sticking to me. I mind all our talks, and if I may have had some rough times in trying to serve God first, I have been as happy as a king. And I have found that the Lord has kept me through the worst times, and I love Him with all my heart. When I get to heaven I shall be able to thank you proper. I do feel thankful to you and Master Dudley. And now good-bye and God bless you. "Your faithful ROB forever." Roy read this through. "He's all right, Dudley. What did she mean? Why did she look so funny?" Dudley shook his head. "I don't know, read what Aunt Judy says." Roy spread out his aunt's letter, and read it in unfaltering tones to the end. "MY POOR DEAR LITTLE JONATHAN: "If granny were not really very unwell I should have come straight off to soften the blow to you, but I send the letters which I have just received, and I have asked Mrs. Hawthorn to explain them to you. You must be comforted by knowing that our dear Rob has proved himself a hero and died a hero's death. I know you would like to see the nurse's letter written from the hospital, and I also send you one from the major of his regiment who used to know me years ago. I know you will be a brave boy and bear this trouble like a man. Tell Dudley to write to me by the first post to tell me you have got the letters safely. "Your loving aunt, "JULIA BERTRAM." The letter dropped from Roy's grasp, and he flung himself down on the beach face foremost. Dudley sat staring out at the sea without speaking. The blow had fallen so heavily, and so unexpectedly, that speech was not forthcoming. At last Roy looked up. "You read the other letters to me, Dudley," he said, in a choked voice. And Dudley, with a good deal of hesitation and effort interrupted by tears, read out as follows: "DEAR MADAM: "I have been asked to write to you about Robert White who I am sorry to say was brought into the military hospital the other day dangerously wounded. He lingered three days and was perfectly conscious up to the last. I never saw a braver or more patient lad. He told me all about your goodness to him, and his devotion to a little nephew of yours was most touching. His name was always on his lips. He asked me to tell you the circumstances of his death, and added, 'She will tell Master Roy, I have tried to do my duty. And I will be waiting now in heaven to welcome him. I would have liked to be his servant, but God wants me, and God comes first.' I heard from his sergeant the details of the engagement. A small party of them—White among them—had been ordered to go and take a certain mountain pass, and their officer in command was shot just before they reached it. I wish I could give you the account in the sergeant's own words as he told it me. I will try. 'We were marching up in single file, for the pass was a very narrow one. Through the clefts round it, we saw projecting the enemy's bayonets and spears, and we knew it was certain death for the first one in our ranks. I led the men, and I tell you, Mum, it was a cold-blooded way of meeting one's death, worse than in the fiercest battle fighting shoulder to shoulder! I pulled myself together, tried to say a prayer and marched on, wondering where I should be the next minute, when suddenly before I knew where I was, Corporal White had placed himself in front of me. "You are not ready, sergeant," he said; "I am, let me take your place." It wasn't time to stand arguing, but I tell you I felt queer when I saw the lad stretched for dead under my feet. We had a sharp skirmish, but we drove the enemy back, and the first one I went to look for was White.' "The sergeant told me this with a sob in his voice; he added that for months he had ridiculed White for his religion and tried to drive it out of him. But he came every morning to the hospital, and I saw him on his knees by White's bedside, offering up a prayer that he might be made a different man. "And now I must try to give you more details about White himself. I asked him if I could do anything for him the last day he was alive and then he asked me to write to you. He kept the photo of your little nephew under his pillow, and more than once he murmured—'God first, the Queen next, and then Master Roy—I'll be a faithful servant if I can!' Toward evening I saw he was sinking. I said 'Are you comfortable, corporal?' and he looked up with such a radiant smile: 'Safe in the arms of Jesus,' he murmured, and those were his last words. From what I have heard from those who knew him out here, I gather that his life was a singularly pure and upright one, and that young as he was he had influenced more than one careless drinking man to turn over a new leaf, and be the same as he was. I am forwarding his Bible and small belongings by this mail. "Believe me, dear madam, "Yours faithfully, "ROSE SMITH—Sister in Charge." Roy listened to this with breathless interest, his eyes shining through his tears. "Oh, Dudley, how splendid! oh, Rob, you have been a brave soldier, but I shall never, never see you again!" Down went the little head and a torrent of tears burst forth; whilst Dudley laying his curly head against his cousin's joined him in his weeping. One more letter remained to be read and this was the major's— "DEAR MISS BERTRAM: "Having heard from you that one of my men was a protégé of yours, I take the opportunity of saying a word for the poor young fellow. He has been an exemplary character since he came into the regiment, and has, I hear, been a general favorite from his extreme good nature, in spite of being a religious lad. His influence was felt by all his comrades who came in contact with him, and I feel we have lost a smart and promising soldier. The sister in the hospital tells me she is writing particulars of his death. My sergeant is very much cut up over it. "With kind regards, "Believe me, yours truly, "W.A. ALDRIDGE—Major." "And that's all," said Dudley, mournfully; "why, I can't believe Rob is dead—we never knew he was ill." Roy took up the letter, and read through Rob's again. Then he looked across the blue ocean in front of him. "Just read me that bit of the nurse's letter of the fight, Dudley. Can't you think of him marching up to the enemy?" Dudley read the desired bit, and then with a deep drawn breath Roy said: "He acted out the song of the drummer boys, didn't he? He marched on to meet his death like they did. I wonder how it felt. Could you have put yourself in front of the sergeant, Dudley?" "If you had been the sergeant, I could," was the prompt reply. "But the sergeant hadn't been kind to him. Oh, Rob, Rob." "Don't cry so, old chap, you'll make yourself ill. He's happy now. Don't you think we'd better be going in?" But Roy would not leave the beach till the tea bell sounded, and then he crept in with such a white, weary face that kind Mrs. Hawthorn put him straight to bed, and stayed with him listening to his trouble till tired out and exhausted he fell asleep. When Dudley came to bed he found him clutching the letters tight in one hand, and muttering in his sleep, "God first, the Queen next, and then Master Roy!" Once in the night he was roused by Roy's grasping hold of his bedclothes. "Dudley, are you asleep?" "No," was the sleepy answer, "aren't you well?" "Yes, but I can't sleep. Tell me, was it my fault? Did I send Rob to his death? I wanted him to go. Did I make him go?" "Of course you didn't," and Dudley now was wide-awake. "He wanted to go first, and you didn't like it, don't you remember?" "Yes, I think he liked going; but if he hadn't heard that song perhaps he would never have gone, he would never have wanted to be a soldier." "He did a lot of good out there. I don't think he will be sorry now." Roy settled down to sleep again comforted; but for the next few days he seemed quite unable to give his mind to his lessons, and after some correspondence with Miss Bertram, it was arranged that he and Dudley should go home from Saturday to Monday. It was a sad home-coming, and when Roy saw Rob's Bible his grief burst out afresh. The pages showed how much they had been studied, but no verse was more marked than the one Roy had given him. "Endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ." On Sunday evening the boys paid a visit to old Principle. They had been talking about Rob, when Roy said wistfully, "Rob used his opportunity when he got it, didn't he? I expect he didn't know what a hero he was. I wonder if I shall ever get one come to me. I should like to do something great for God, and great for my country. I shall never give up wishing for a great opportunity to come to me!" Then old Principle spoke, and his tone was very solemn: "'Tis not I that will make you proud and uplifted, laddie, but you have been given the grandest opportunity that ever a poor mortal could be given, and you've taken it and made use of it, thank the Lord!" Both boys gazed up at him with open eyes and mouths. Dudley said after a minute's thought: "We've both had some little opportunities, and Roy has had the biggest. He saved me from drowning, and he went into the cave to fetch you!" "Those weren't proper opportunities," muttered Roy in scorn, "they aren't worth remembering; not after what Rob has done." "Yes, the opportunity I'm talking of was a grander one than them, though old Principle can't forget he owes his life perhaps to both of you boys' thought of him. 'Tis what the Lord Himself left His throne in heaven for," the old man proceeded in the same solemn tones; "'tis the one thing, the only thing we're told brings joy to the happy ones above; nay to the Almighty Himself, and 'tis wonderful that He will let us have the part in it we do!" "What do you mean?" questioned Roy awed and puzzled by old Principle's manner. "I mean this, laddie, you had an opportunity of leading an ignorant soul to the feet of his Saviour; of enlisting a soldier not only in the Queen's service but in the service of the King of Kings; of being the means of filling an empty barren soul with a flood of light and gladness; and of sending out a missionary in the midst of ungodliness and vice, to turn many from the error of their ways. Is it not a greater honor to help to save a soul from destruction, than bring glory to yourself by some feat of physical strength or skill? Thank the Lord on your knees to-night, that He sent you the opportunity you were always hankering after; and thank Him He gave you the grace to seize hold of it, and make use of it for His Glory, not your own!" Old Principle's burst of eloquence almost startled the boys, and they received it in silence; but later on, as they were walking home in the cool of the evening Roy linked his arm in Dudley's and said softly— "I see it all now. My broken leg and everything. It was when I was too weak to go out with you, that Rob and I used to talk over these things." And Dudley replied, with an emphatic nod, "Yes, though you didn't know it, Rob was your big opportunity." <hr style="width: 65%;"> <h2>FINIS.</h2> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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