"I’m jist thinking," said Katie, "that ye’ll maybe no’ get onybody to gie ye a gun for sic a cruel job; and if ye did, the noise sae early in the morning wad frichten folk, and mak’ an awfu’ clash amang neeboors, and luik dreadfu’ daft in an elder." "Jock Hall has a gun I could get. But noo that I think o’t, Jock himsel’ will do the job, for he’s fit for onything, and up tae everything except what’s guid. I’ll send him Charlie and the cage in the morning, afore ye rise; sae keep your mind easy," said the Sergeant, carelessly. "I wadna trust Charlie into Jock Hall’s power--the cruel ne’er-do-weel that he is! Na, na; whatever has to be done maun be done decently by yersel’, gudeman," protested Katie. "Ye said, gudewife, to Mr. Porteous," replied Adam, "that ye kent I wad do onything to please him and to gie satisfaction for this misfortun’, as ye ca’ed it; and sin’ you and him agree that the bird is to be kilt, I suppose I maun kill him to please ye baith; I see but ae way left o’ finishing him." "What way is that?" asked Katie. "To thraw his bit neck." "Doonricht cruelty," suggested Katie, "to thraw the neck o’ a wee thing like that! Fie on ye, gudeman! Ye’re no like yersel’ the day." "It’s the _only_ way left, unless we burn him; so I’ll no’ argue mair about it. There’s nae use o’ pittin’ ’t aff ony langer; the better day, the better deed. Sae here goes! It will be a’ ower wi’ him in a minute; and syne ye’ll get peace----" The Sergeant rose and placed the cage on a table near the window where the bird was accustomed to be fed. Charlie, in expectation of receiving food, was in a high state of excitement, and seemed anxious to please his master by repeating all his lessons as rapidly and correctly as possible. The Sergeant rolled up his white shirt-sleeves, to keep them from being soiled by the work in which he was about to be engaged. Being thus prepared, he opened the door of the cage, thrust in his hand, and seized the bird, saying, "Bid fareweel to yer mistress, my wee Charlie." Katie sprang from her chair, and with a loud voice commanded the Sergeant to "haud his han’ and let the bird alane!" "What’s wrang?" asked the Sergeant, as he shut the door of the cage and went towards his wife, who again sank back in her chair, and covered hef eyes with her pocket-handkerchief. "Oh, Adam!" she said, "I’m a waik, waik woman. My nerves are a’ gane; my head and heart are baith sair. A kind o’ glamour, a temptation has come ower me, and I dinna ken what’s richt or what’s wrang. I wuss I may be forgie’n if I’m wrang, for the heart I ken is deceitfu’ aboon a’ things and desperately wicked:--but, richt or wrang, neither by you nor by ony ither body can I let that bird be kilt! I canna thole’t! for I just thocht e’enoo that I seed plainly afore me our ain wee bairn that’s awa’--an’ oh, Adam!----"