Henri did so, and saw, though he could not read, an inscription in the old Slavonic tongue.
"That is, translated literally, 'Not us! not us! but His Name!' In your French Bible—the same which I use also—the verse reads thus:—'Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory.'"
"Beautiful!" said Henri; and as he gave back the medal, he looked with interest at the brilliant young Guardsman, who spoke in such a simple, manly, unaffected way of God's Word and Providence.
"To-morrow the Czar leaves this," said Ivan, replacing his medal. "We of the Chevalier Guard go also, of course."
Henri's cry of distress made all the sick men in the ward raise their heads.
"What is the matter?" Ivan asked compassionately.
"The Emperor is going!" Henri said, or rather sobbed, for so weak was he that he could not restrain his tears.
"You need not be afraid that will change anything, my poor friend. He has made arrangements for the safety and the comfort of all the prisoners. Henceforth they will want for nothing."
"I was not afraid of wanting food or shelter," Henri said. "But, M. le Garde, when I lay in that horrible prison, dying in black despair, it was his voice called me back from the gates of the grave, and showed me what the mercy of God was like. I would give half the little life left in me to hear that voice yet once again." After a pause he added, with an effort to control himself, "Still, he stayed among us longer than we could have dared to hope. Is he going home now?"
Ivan shook his head. "His work is not half done yet; nor ours," he said.
"What will you fight for now?" asked Henri with a sad smile. "For vengeance?"
"For peace," returned Ivan. "Shall I tell you what the
