The door of the chamber was pushed in a little, and to Gilian’s mouth his heart rose up at the manifestation, for what was this with no footstep on the wooden stair? About him he felt of a sudden cold airs waft, and the door ajar with no one entering glued his gaze upon its panels. The others in the room had not perceived it. Miss Mary, grown of a sudden plain and old, looked up in the Cornal’s face, craving there for something for the ease of sorrow, as if he that had wandered so far and seen the Enemy so often and so ugly had some secret to share with her whereby this ancient trouble could be marred. There she found no consolation. No magician but only the brother looked over an untidy scarf and a limp high collar at the delirious man in bed. The Paymaster stood at the window frowning out upon the street; MacGibbon coughed in short dry jerky coughs, patted with a bony hand upon the coverlet, turned his head away. A stillness that was like a swoon came over all. “Is that you, mother?” It was the General who broke the quiet, and his eyes were on his sister. A flush had fallen like a sunset on his face, his eyes were very clear and full, and, with his shaven cheeks, he might in the mitigate light of the chamber have been a lad new waked from an unpleasant dream. His sister put her head upon the pillow beside him and an arm about his shoulders. “Oh, Dugald, Dugald!” said she, “it is not mother yet, but only Mary.” And the bedstead shook with the stress of her grief. “Mary, is it?” said he, shutting his eyes again. “What are you laughing at? I was not up there at all; I never saw her to-day, upon my word; I was just giving Black George an exercise no further than the Boshang Gate.... I’m saying, though, you need not let on about it to Colin... Colin, Colin, Colin, I wish we were home; the leaf must be fine and green upon Dunchuach.... They’re over the river at Aldea Tajarda, and we push on to Cieudada.... What’s that, Mackay? let go the girl! And you the Highland gentleman! _Lo sien--sien--siento mucho, Senora_.” “I am at your shoulder, Dugald, do you not know me?” asked the Cornal, gently putting his sister aside. His brother looked and smiled again, but did not seem to see him. “What was her name? and I’ll send her my love and duty, for, man, between us, I was fond of her,... There was a song she had: The Rover went a-roving far upon the foreign seas, Oh, hail to thee, my dear, and fare-ye-weel. Only it was in the Gaelic she sung it” His voice, that was very weak and thin now, cracked, and no sound came though his lips moved. Miss Mary took a cup and wet his lips. He seemed to think it a Communion, for again he shut his eyes, and “God,” said he, “I am a sinful man to be sitting at Thy tables, but Thou knowest the soldier’s trade, the soldier’s sacrifice, and Thou art ready to forgive.”