It's about
your future, Sandy. I've been talking it over with Mr. Moseley, and he
is confident--"
Suddenly Sandy rose and stood by the table.
"Don't be making any more plans for me," he said desperately; "I've
made up me mind to enlist."
"Enlist! In the army?"
"Yes; I've got to get away. I must go so far that I can't come back;
and, judge--I want to go to-morrow!"
"Is it money matters?"
A long silence followed--of the kind that ripens confidence. Presently
Sandy lifted his haggard eyes: "It's nothing I'm ashamed of, judge; ye
must take me word for that. It's like taking the heart out of me body
to go, but I've made up me mind. Nothing on earth can change me
purpose; I enlist on the morrow."
The judge looked at him long and earnestly over his glasses, then he
asked in calm, judicial tones: "Is her answer final?"
Sandy started from his chair. How finite intelligence could have
discovered the innermost secret of his soul seemed little short of
miraculous. But the relief of being able to pour out his feelings
mastered all other considerations.
"Oh, sir, there was never a question. Like the angel she is, she let
me be near her so long as I held my peace; but, fool that I am, I
break me promise again and again.
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