Be that as it may, she accompanied the 42nd in their different expeditions, and proved herself a skilful nurse in hospital, a fearless leader on the field of battle. Wherever her husband went she followed, watching over his safety, and threatening to avenge him if he fell. There is reason to believe that, like other veterans, she came at length to love fighting for its own sake, and that anxiety for the safety of her husband was only a cloak to justify her presence amid the wild excitement of the battle-field. On one occasion, before the commencement of an attack, the officer in command, being anxious to expose her husband to as little danger as possible, left him in charge of the men’s knapsacks, which they had thrown aside before rushing up the hill. He remained at his post, but his wife, borne along by an irresistible impulse, rushed forward at the head of the attacking columns, and cheered them on to victory. No man could refuse to follow where a woman led the way. Three redoubts were carried in rapid succession, and just as the officer was giving orders to charge the fourth and last, he was suddenly tapped on the shoulder. On turning round he beheld his friend, the female warrior, with her clothes tucked up to her knees, and the proud expression of victory in her lace. Seizing his hand, and shaking it heartily, she exclaimed, “Well done, my Highland lad! See how the brigands scamper, like so many deer! Come,” she continued, “let us drive them from yonder hill.” Her advice was acted on, and the success of the Highlanders was complete. When the fighting was over, friend and foe shared alike in her sympathies. Her skilful hand, like the spear of Achilles, could heal the wounds it had made.