"I am proud of you, sir!" he said. "You are worthy of your illustrious ancestors. You are maintaining the best traditions of Bannerhall."
"Pleased is too mild an expression. I am rejoiced. It is the proudest moment of my life." He stepped away from the pillar, straightened his shoulders, and gazed benignantly on his grandson. "Not that I especially desire," he added after a moment, "that you should be subjected to the hazards and the hardships of a soldier's life. That goes without saying. But it is the hazards and the hardships he faces that make the soldier a hero. Death itself has no terrors for the patriotic brave. '_Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori._'"
His eyes wandered away into some alluring distance and his thought into the fields of memory, and for a moment he was silent. Nor did Pen speak. He felt that the occasion was too momentous, the event too sacred to be spoiled by unnecessary words from him.
It was the colonel who at last broke the silence.
"It is not an opportune time," he said, "to speak of the past. But, as to the future, you may rest in confidence. While you are absent your mother shall be looked after. Her every want shall be supplied. It will be my delight to attend to the matter personally."
Swift tears sprang to Pen's eyes. Surely the beautiful, the tender side of life was again turning toward him. It was with difficulty that he was able sufficiently to control his voice to reply:
"Thank you, grandfather! You are very good to us."
"Do not mention it! How about your own wants? Have you money sufficient to carry you to your destination?"
"Thank you! I have all the money I need."
"Very well. I shall communicate with you later, and see that you lack nothing for your comfort. Will you kindly send me your address when you are permanently located in your training camp?"
Pen glanced at his watch and saw that he had but a few minutes left in which to catch his train.
"I'm sorry, grandfather," he said, "but when I met you I was just starting for the station to take my train north; and now, if I don't hurry, I'll get left."
He held out his hand and the old man grasped it anew.
"Penfield, my boy;" his voice was firm and brave as he spoke. "Penfield, my boy, quit yourself like the man that you are! Remember whose blood courses in your veins! Remember that you are an American citizen and be proud of it. Farewell!"