"
"I wish," said Jones, "it was possible to decide this matter
to-night: now you have mentioned it to me, I shall not be able to
rest."
"Oh, never think of it," returned the other: "a few days will make
no difference. The wounds of honour are not like those in your body:
they suffer nothing by the delay of cure. It will be altogether as
well for you to receive satisfaction a week hence as now."
"But suppose," says Jones, "I should grow worse, and die of the
consequences of my present wound?"
"Then your honour," answered the lieutenant, "will require no
reparation at all. I myself will do justice to your character, and
testify to the world your intention to have acted properly, if you had
recovered."
"Still," replied Jones, "I am concerned at the delay. I am almost
afraid to mention it to you who are a soldier; but though I have
been a very wild young fellow, still in my most serious moments, and
at the bottom, I am really a Christian."
"So am I too, I assure you," said the officer; "and so zealous a
one, that I was pleased with you at dinner for taking up the cause
of your religion; and I am a little offended with you now, young
gentleman, that you should express a fear of declaring your faith
before any one."
"But how terrible must it be," cries Jones, "to any one who is
really a Christian, to cherish malice in his breast, in opposition
to the command of Him who hath expressly forbid it? How can I bear
to do this on a sick-bed? Or how shall I make up my account, with such
an article as this in my bosom against me?"
"Why, I believe there is such a command," cries the lieutenant; "but
a man of honour can't keep it.
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