When
Sir John saw me with my thirty lads marching in fine order, all
fired with the little sport of battle--for to me it was all real,
and our sham fights often saw broken heads and bruised shoulders--he
stamped his cane upon the ground, and said in a big voice, 'Well
done! well done! For that you shall have a hundred pounds next
birthday, and as fine a suit of scarlet as you please, and a sword
from London too.'
"Then he came to me and caught me by both shoulders. 'But alack,
alack! there needs some blood and flesh here, Robert Moray,' said
he. 'You have more heart than muscle.'
"This was true. I had ever been more eager than my strength--thank
God, that day is gone!--and sometimes, after Latin and the drill of
my Lightfoots, as I called them, I could have cried for weakness
and weariness, had I been a girl and not a proud lad. And Sir John
kept his word, liking me better from that day forth, and coming
now and again to see me at the school,--though he was much abroad
in France--giving many a pound to my Lightfoots, who were no worse
soldiers for that. His eye ran us over sharply, and his head nodded,
as we marched past him; and once I heard him say, 'If they had had
but ten years each on their heads, my Prince!'
"About this time my father died--that is, when I was fourteen years
old.
Pages:
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115