Mr. Porteous stood beside the Sergeant’s bed, and Katie said to her husband, bending over him-- "This is the minister, Adam, come tae see you, my bonnie man." "God bless you and give you his peace!" said Mr. Porteous, in a low voice, drawing near the bed as Katie retired from it. The Sergeant opened his eyes, and slowly turned his head, breathing hard, and gazing with a vacant stare at his pastor. "Do you know me, Adam?" asked the minister. The Sergeant gave the military salute and replied, "We are all ready, Captain! Lead! we follow! and, please God, to victory!" He was evidently in the "current of the heady fight", and in his delirious dreams fancied that he was once more one of a forlorn hope about to advance to the horrors of the breach of a beleaguered city, or to mount the ladder to scale its walls. Closing his eyes and clasping his hands, he added with a solemn voice, "And now, my God, enable me to do my duty! I put my trust in Thee! If I die, remember my mother. Amen. Advance, men! Up! Steady!" The minister did not move or speak for a few seconds, and then said, "It is peace, my friend, not war. It is your own minister who is speaking to you." Suddenly the Sergeant started and looked upward with an open, excited eye, as if he saw something. A smile played over his features. Then in a tone of voice tremulous with emotion, and with his arms stretched upwards as if towards some object, he said, "My boy--my darling! You there! Oh, yes, I’m coming to you. Quick, comrades! Up!" A moment’s silence, and then if possible a steadier gaze, with a look of rapture. "Oh, my wee Charlie! I hear ye! Is the starling leevin’? Ay, ay--that it is! I didna kill’t! Hoo could ye think that? It was dear to you, my pet, an’----" Then covering his face with his hands he said, "Oh! whatna licht is that? I canna thole’t, it’s sae bricht! It’s like the Son o’ Man!" He fell back exhausted into what seemed an almost unconscious state. "He’s gane--he’s gane!" exclaimed Katie. "He’s no’ gane! gie him the brandy!" said Jock, as he slipped rapidly into the room from the kitchen; for Jock was too anxious to be far away. In an instant he had measured out the prescribed quantity of brandy and milk in a spoon, and, lifting the Sergeant’s head, he said, "Tak’ it, and drink the king’s health. The day is oors!" The Sergeant obeyed as if he was a child; and then whispering to Katie, Jock said, "The Doctor telt ye, wumman, to keep him quaet; tak’ care what ye’re aboot!" and then he slipped again out of the room. The Sergeant returned to his old state of quiet repose.