"
"I can't, for the life of me, I can't!"
"Why, my good fellow, come to think of it, you should not complain,
of all others, since it gives you promotion and the command of our
brave boys."
A look of deep reproach was the only answer he received to this
remark.
"Forgive me, Ferdinand, forgive me, I did but jest," he continued,
quickly, as he again grasped the hand of his comrade between his
own.
"Say no more, Lorenzo. Is there aught I can do for you before we
march?"
"Nothing."
"No little boon-no service you would like to trust to a friend and
comrade?"
"My papers are all arranged and addressed to you, with directions
how I should like to have them disposed of. There is nothing else,
Ferdinand."
"It will be my melancholy pleasure to follow your wishes
implicitly," was the reply.
"Thank you, Ferdinand."
"Is that all?"
"All."
"Then we must at once away."
"One moment-stay, Ferdinand; tell my poor boys who act the
executioners, those of the first file, to fire low-at my heart,
Ferdinand! You will remember?"
"Alas! yes," said his comrade, turning suddenly away from the
prisoner.
"And tell them, Ferdinand, that I most heartily and sincerely
forgive them for the part they are called upon to play in this day's
drama.
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