For years back that toast had been drunk, that prayer uttered in just those simple words, and Linforth was wont to gaze round the walls on the portraits of the famous generals who had looked to these barracks and to this mess-room as their home.

They, too, had heard that prayer, and, carrying it in their hearts, without parade or needless speech had gone forth, each in his turn, and laboured unsparingly.
But never had Linforth been so moved as he was tonight.

He choked in his throat as he drank.

For his turn to go forth had at the last come to him.
And in all humility of spirit he sent up a prayer on his own account, that he might not fail--and again that he might not fail.
He sat down and told his companions the good news, and rejoiced at their congratulations.

But he slipped away to his own quarters very quietly as soon as the Colonel rose, and sat late by himself.
There was one, he knew very well, to whom the glad tidings would be a heavy blow--but he could not--no, not even for her sake--stand aside.
For this opportunity he had lived, training alike his body and mind against its coming.