parish o' Drumlie, and a' that are in't! I'll turn sodjier, and march to Low Germanie'--and sae, sir, I am here." Finding that he was wearying me, and that I was somewhat inclined to sleep, Dandy left me for the purpose of foraging for more vivres against the time of dinner, as he had a mortal aversion to having recourse to Corporal Spürrledter's basins of growte. CHAPTER XXIII ERNESTINE AND GABRIELLE. Two days' nursing at the hands of these charming girls made me almost well, and fit for service. The contusion on my head no longer gave me any pain; the scar closed, and grew hourly less under the soothing application of some essence or lotion which they applied to it; and they were both so kind as to bring their work--for they were very industrious--into my room, where they sat, one on each side of my bed, and sewed, embroidered, read, or chatted with me. There was something sufficiently pleasing, and perplexing too, in being thus placed between two such beautiful young women--one with dark hair and large orient eyes; the other, with mild blue orbs and soft bright curls; both animated, laughing, brilliant, and full of wit and vivacity. To say the least of it, my position was very enviable. Ernestine was dark, and tall and stately. Gabrielle was less so, but fair and blooming; ever smiling save when some recollection floated through her mind. Then she cast down her timid blue eyes and sighed. Ernestine wore her long black hair, parted smoothly over her open brow, in broad and heavy braids. Gabrielle permitted hers to float in loose ringlets, which displayed to the utmost advantage their bright golden colour. Ernestine's deep dark eyes had usually a quiet and thoughtful expression; her sister's, though less attractive, possessed more vivacity. Ernestine had more pride, Gabrielle more frankness; and I know of no picture more beautiful than was presented by these two motherless sisters, whose home was the camp, when Gabrielle rested her fair head, with its shower of golden curls, upon the budding bosom and snowy shoulder of her more thoughtful, more contemplative, and more matron-like sister; their attitudes were so full of grace and affection. Ernestine had the fire, the step, the glance, the dark eyes, and the dignity of Spain.