‘Ye see, sir, and my leddy, he was little better nor a laddie, and fowk ’at sair needs company, like Francie, misses company ower sair. Men’s no able--_some_ men, my leddy--to tak coonsel wi’ their ain herts, as women whiles learns to du. And sae, whan he cam oot o’ the fricht, he was ower sair upon himsel for bein i’ the fricht. For it seems to me there’s no shame in bein frichtit, sae lang as ye dinna serve and obey the fricht, but trust in him ’at sees, and du what ye hae to du. Naebody ’at kenned Francie as I did, cud ever believe he faun’ mair fear in ’s hert nor was lawfu’ and rizzonable--sae lang, that is, as he was in his richt min’: ayont that nane but his maker can jeedge him. I dinna mean Francie was a pettern, but, sir, he was no cooard--and that I ken, for I’m no cooard mysel, please God to keep me as he’s made me. But the laddie--the man, I suld say--he’s no to be persuaudit oot o’ the fancy o’ his ain cooardice; and I dinna believe he’ll ever win oot o’ ’t wantin the testimony o’ his fellow-officers, wha o’ them may be left to grant the same. And I canna but think, gien ye’ll excuse me, sir, that, for his father’s sake, it wud be a gracious ac’ to tak him intil the queen’s service, and lat him haud on fechtin for ’s country, whaurever it may please her mejesty to want him.--Oot whaur he was afore micht be best for him--I dinna ken. It wad be to put his country’s seal upo’ their word.’ ‘Surely, Miss Barclay, you wouldn’t set the poor lad in the forefront of danger again!’ said lady Macintosh. ‘I wud that, my lady! I canna but think the airmy, savin for this misadventur--gien there be ony sic thing as misadventur--hed a fair chance o’ makin a man o’ Francie; and whiles I canna help doobtin gien onything less ’ill ever restore him til himsel but restorin him til ’s former position. It wud ony gait gie him the best chance o’ shawin til himsel ’at there wasna a hair o’ the cooard upon him.’ ‘But,’ said sir Haco, ‘would her majesty be justified in taking the risk involved? Would it not be to peril many for a doubtful good to one?’ Kirsty was silent for a moment, with downcast eyes. ‘I’m answert, sir--as to that p’int,’ she said, looking up. ‘For my part,’ said lady Macintosh, ‘I can’t help thinking that the love of a good woman like yourself must do more for the poor fellow than the approval of all the soldiers in the world.--Pardon me, Haco.’ ‘Indeed, my lady, you’re perfectly right!’ returned her husband with a smile. But lady Macintosh hardly heard him, so startled, almost so frightened was she at the indignation instantly on Kirsty’s countenance. ‘Putna things intil ony heid, my leddy, ’at the hert wud never put there. It wad be an ill fulfillin o’ my father’s duty til his auld colonel, no to say his auld freen’, to coontenance sic a notion!’