“And brave as a lion,” shouted little Joseph, from behind the shelter of his grandmother’s garments. “Hurra! so he is! They made him a corporal the first thing they did. By-and-by he’s going to be a lieutenant. Then, won’t we live! Well, I reckon not; oh, no!” responded the larger boy. “Robert! Robert!” said the sister, in gentle reproof. “I couldn’t help it, Anna; can’t for the life of me. Beg the gentleman’s pardon all the same, though.” “Don’t ask pardons of me. I rather like it, my fine fellow,” answered Savage. “But there has been a great battle; I hope no bad news has reached you!” “I do not know. That is what makes us so anxious. If I could but see a paper.” “Go and get one this moment,” said Savage, thrusting some currency into Robert’s hand. The boy darted off like an arrow; they could hardly hear his feet touch the stairs. Directly he came back again, breathless and pale, with the paper open in his hand, which he searched eagerly for news. “They have been in the midst of it,” he cried. “The regiment is all cut up; but I don’t see his name in the list. Dear, how I wish the paper would hold still. Anna, you try.” The girl held out her hand, but it shook like an aspen leaf; and Savage took the paper. “What is your father’s name?” he inquired. “Robert Burns.” “I’m named after him, I am,” cried Robert, with an outburst of pride. Savage ran his eyes hastily down the list of killed. The old woman left her chair and crept toward him, white and still; while little Joseph crept after, forgetting his hunger in the general interest. No one spoke; there was not a full breath drawn. Savage looked up from the paper, and saw those wild, questioning eyes, those white faces, turned upon him with an intensity that made his heart swell. “His name is not here,” he said. Dry sobs broke from the women; but Robert shouted out, “Glory! glory!” And little Joseph laughed, clapping his pale hands. “But the wounded,” whispered Anna; “look there.” “All right, so far,” answered Savage, running his eyes rapidly down the list. “There is no Burns here.” The old woman dropped into her chair, and gathering little Joseph to her bosom, covered his face with gentle kisses; while Robert half strangled his sister with caresses, and shook hands vigorously with Mr. Savage, who was rather astonished to find his eyes full of tears, which threw the whole room into a haze. “Don’t forget to come in the morning,” he said, turning toward the door. “Of course I wont,” answered the boy, following his new friend into the passage; “but that yellow chap, will he let me in?” “Come and see. But, Robert, I say, you and I must be friends—fast friends, you know.” “Yes, when we know each other through and through. But I’m in charge here when father’s gone, and haven’t much time for anything else. Good-by, sir; I’ll be on hand in the morning.”