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Thurston, I. T. (Ida Treadwell), 1848-1918

"The Bishop's Shadow"

Faithful and loyal even unto death? Ah
yes, Theodore pledged himself anew to such service in the watches of
that night.
Nevertheless, the letter had brought to the boy a fresh
disappointment, for it informed him that the bishop had been ill ever
since he left the city, and that it had been decided that he should
remain away until October.
"Five months longer before I can see him," Theodore thought
sorrowfully, yet he could not grieve as he had done before. It almost
seemed as if he could feel the bishop's hand actually resting upon his
head, and see the kind eyes looking down into his. The boy had not
been so happy since he left the bishop's house as he was on this night
when he had expected to be so lonely and miserable.
"Oh if Nan only knew, how glad she would be," he thought more than
once.
He slept at last with the letter clutched tightly in his hand, and his
fingers had not loosed their hold when he awoke the next morning, nor
had the joy died out of his heart. His thoughts were very busy as he
dressed, and suddenly he stopped short, with one shoe on and the other
in his hand.
"That's it!" he cried aloud. "That's what the bishop meant that
Sunday! 'Ye are not your own. Ye are bought with a price.' The great
Captain's bought me for one of His soldiers, an' I've got to do what
He says.


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