"Dinna fash yer thoomb, Adam, aboot that business," said Dick. "Ye deserved to hae been drummed oot o’ the regiment--I mean the kirk--no’ your kirk nor mine, but the kirk o’ a’ honest and sensible folk, gif ye had swithered aboot that bird. I hae had a crack wi’ the cratur, and it’s jist extraordinar’ sensible like--sae crouse and canty, it wad be like murder tae thraw a neck like that! In fac’, a bird is mair than a bird, I consider, when it can speak and sing yon way." "Thank ye, Corporal," said Adam. "It’s some glamour has come ower the minister," said Dick, "just like what cam’ ower oor Colonel, when he made us charge twa thousand at Busaco, and had, in coorse, tae fa’ back on his supports in disgrace--no’ jist in disgrace, for we never cam’ tae that, nor never wull, I hope--but in confusion!" "God’s wull be done, auld comrade!" replied Adam; "but it’s His wull, I think, that I maun fa’ on the field, and if so, I’m no’ feared--na, na! Like a guid sodger, I wad like tae endure hardness." "Ye’re speakin’ ower muckle," interrupted Dick, "and wearyin’ yersel’." "I maun hae my say oot, Corporal, afore the forlorn hope marches," continued the Sergeant; "and as I was remarkin’, and because I dinna want tae be interrupted wi’ the affairs o’ this life, so as to please Him wha has ca’d me to be a sodger--I maun mak’ my last wull and testament noo or never, and I trust you, Dick, mair than a’ the lawyers and law papers i’ the worl’, tae see’t carried oot." And he held out a feverish hand to the Corporal, who gave it a responsive squeeze. "Ye see, Corporal," said the Sergeant, "I hae nae fortun’ to leave; but I hae laid by something for my Katie--and what _she_ has been tae me, God alane kens!" He paused. "And then there’s wee Mary, that I luve amaist as weel as my Charlie; and then there’s the bird. Na, Corporal, dinna blame me for speakin’ aboot the bird! The Apostle, when aboot to be offered up, spak’ aboot his cloak, and nae dead cloak was ever dearer to him than the leevin’ bird is tae me, because it was, as ye ken, dear tae the wee fallow that was my ain flesh and bluid, wha’s waiting for me. Duve ye mind Charlie?" "Mind Charlie!" exclaimed the Corporal. "Wait awee, Adam!" and he drew out an old pocket-book from his breast-pocket, from which he took a bit of paper, and, unfolding it, held up a lock of silken hair. The Sergeant suddenly seized the relic and kissed it, and then returned it to the Corporal, who, without saying a word, restored it to its old place of safety. But Dick now began to see that the Sergeant seemed to be rather excited, and no longer able to talk in his usual slow and measured manner, and so he said to him-- "Wait till the morn, Adam, and we’ll put a’ richt to yer satisfaction."