One name in the list of casualties made him start. It was that of his old friend and neighbour, Colonel John Warrender of Ardgour, who fell, sword in hand, when leading the Corsican Rangers to a victorious bayonet charge against the 61st Demi-brigade. "Oh, what a heart-stroke this is for his poor wife, Winny!" he exclaimed. "And Flora--poor little Flora, their daughter," added Lady Rohallion, with her eyes full of tears. "She is too young to know fully the calamity that has befallen her. Order the carriage, Andrews; we'll drive up the glen to Ardgour in an hour after this." "Poor Mrs. Warrender!--she did so love her husband, and had sore misgivings that they were parting for the last time." "A sad morning this will be for her, indeed!" said Lord Rohallion, laying the gazette upon the breakfast-table and gazing into the clear, bright fire, full of thought, as the battle of Alexandria seemed to come in fancy before his practised eye. "Now Rohallion, bethink you, if circumstances had been reversed," said she, laying a hand caressingly on his neck, "and if she had been reading your name in that paper, what my feelings would have been." "The carriage would be ordered at Ardgour instead of Rohallion," said the old Lord, with an affectionate smile; "they may need me yet--but egad! I am now, perhaps, better pleased that the brigade was refused me. Warrender gone--poor Jack! and Abercrombie, too--I knew him when in command of the 69th." "He died on board the flagship, my lord," said Andrews, who, in virtue of his years and peculiar position, ventured to gratify his irrepressible curiosity, by taking up the paper, to skim it at his master's back; "they landed and formed line in the water, bayonets fixed and colours flying," he continued, with a nervous voice and kindling eye; "28th and 42nd--Foot Guards and Royal Scots--I think I see them all--whoop! d--n it--why weren't _we_ there?--I beg pardon, my lady," he added, in some confusion, as he proceeded in haste to remove the breakfast equipage, stumping vigorously on his left leg--in which he received a bullet at Saratoga--as he hurried away to order the carriage for the proposed visit of condolence, to which we need not invite the reader. The treaty of Amiens which followed soon after the Egyptian campaign brought about a peace for fourteen months, and during that time, Lord Rohallion wrote repeatedly to our Ambassador at Paris concerning the little protégé who had now found a home in Carrick; but at a period when all the powers of Europe were only, as it were, taking breath and gathering strength for a greater and more deadly contest, such a trivial matter as the fate of a shipwrecked boy could gain but little attention. His lordship's letters remained unanswered, and by the 18th of May, 1803, Britain and France again drew the sword, which was never to be sheathed save on the plains of Waterloo.