"It’s time to gang to the kirk, gudewife," he remarked, although, from the bells having stopped ringing, and from the agitated state of his wife’s feelings, he more than suspected that, for the first time during many years, he would be obliged to absent himself from morning worship--a fact which would form another subject of conversation for his watchful and thoughtful neighbours. "Hoo can we gang to the kirk, Adam, wi’ this on our conscience?" muttered Katie. "I hae naething on _my_ conscience, Katie, to disturb it," said her husband; "and I’m sorry if onything I hae done should disturb yours. What can I do to lighten ’t?" Katie was silent. "If ye mean," said the Sergeant, "that the bird should be killed, by a’ means let it be done. I’ll do onything to please _you_, though Mr. Porteous has, in my opinion, nae richt whatever to insist on my doin’t to please _him_; for _he_ kens naething aboot the cratur. But if you, that kens as weel as me a’ the bird has been to us baith, but speak the word, the deed will be allooed by me. I’ll never say no." "Do yer duty, Adam!" said his wife. "That is, my duty to _you_, mind, for I owe it to nane else I ken o’. But that duty shall be done--so ye’ve my full leave and leeberty tae kill the bird. Here he is! Tak’ him oot o’ the cage, and finish him. I’ll no interfere, nor even look on, cost what it may." And the Sergeant took down the cage, and held it near his wife. But she said nothing, and did nothing. "I’m Charlie’s bairn!" exclaimed the starling. "Dinna tell me, Adam, tae kill the bird! It’s no’ me, but you, should do sic wark. Ye’re a man and a sodger, and it was you teached him, and got us into this trouble." "Sae be’t!" said the Sergeant. "I’ve done mair bluidy jobs in my day, and needna fear tae spill, for the sake o’ peace, the wee drap bluid o’ the puir h airmless thing. What way wid ye like it kilt?" "Ye should ken best yersel’, gudeman; killin’ is no woman’s wark," said Katie, in a low voice, as she turned her head away and looked at the wall. "Aweel then, since ye leave it to me," replied Adam, "I’ll gie him a sodger’s death. It’s the maist honourable, and the bit mannie deserves a’ honour frae our hands, for he has done his duty pleasantly, in fair and foul, in simmer and winter, to us baith, and tae----Never heed--I’ll shoot him at dawn o’ day, afore he begins whistlin’ for his breakfast; and he’ll be buried decently. You and Mr. Porteous will no’ be bothered wi’ him lang. Sae as that’s settled and determined, we may gang to the kirk wi’ a guid conscience." Adam rose, as if to enter his bedroom. "What’s your hurry, Adam?" asked Katie, in a half-peevish tone of voice. "Sit doon and let a body speak." The Sergeant resumed his seat.