He died like a soldier--but not as the soldiers die in pictures.

He sank off his horse so limp, and so like an animal with its death wound, and gasped so weakly, 'I'm killed--take care of my body,' that when we covered his face and bore him away, we could not realize we were carrying a man's body.

And now, my dear, if I should go as these men go, I have neither kith nor kin to mourn me--only you, and you must not mourn, for I shall be near you always and always, without sign or token, and when you feel my presence near, know that it is real, and not a seeming.

For the great force of life that moves events in this world has but one symbol, but one vital manifestation, and that is love, and when a soul is touched with that, it is immortal." But Martin Culpepper, with his dancing plumes, saw things in another light.

Perhaps we always see things in another light when forty years have passed over them.