"Na, na, Corporal!" replied Adam, "I never like pittin’ aff--no’ a fecht even. What ought to be dune, should be dune when it can--sae listen to me:--Ye’ll help Katie tae gaither her siller and gear thegither--it’s no muckle atweel!--and see that she and Mary, wi’ the bird, are pit in a bit hoose near yersel’. They can fen’ on what I’ll lea’ them, wi’ their ain wark tae help. Ye’ll stan’ their freen’--I ken, I ken ye wull! And oh, man, when ye hear folk abuse me, dinna say a word in my defence! Let gowans grow frae my grave, and birds sing ower’t, and God’s sun shine on’t, but let nae angry word, against even an enemy, ever be heard frae’t, or be conneckit wi’ my memory." Dick was silent. He felt too much to speak. The Sergeant continued--"Gie a’ my boots and shoon tae Jock Hall. Katie wull tell ye aboot him." After a pause, he said--"I ask forgiveness o’ the minister, if I hae wranged him in ignorance. But as to Smellie----" and the Sergeant turned his head away. "The heart, Corporal," he added, "is hard! I’m no’ fit for that yet. God forgie me! but I canna wi’oot hypocrisy say----" "I’ll no’ let ye speak another word, Adam!" said Dick. "Trust me as to yer will. I’ll be faithfu’ unto death!" and he drew himself up, and saluted the Sergeant, soldier fashion. There was not a bit of the consciously dramatic in this; but he wished to accept the trust given him in due form, as became a soldier receiving important orders from a dying friend. Adam did not like to confess it; but he was so wearied that he could speak no more without pain, and so thanking the Corporal, he turned round to sleep. CHAPTER XXIII CORPORAL DICK AT THE MANSE Adam had received his pension-paper, which required to be signed by the parish minister, as certifying that the claimant was in life. Dick was glad of this opportunity of calling upon the minister to obtain for his friend the required signature. He was known to Mr. Porteous, who had met him once before in Adam’s house, and had attacked him rather sharply on his Haldanite principles, the sect being, as he alleged, an uncalled-for opposition to the regular parish clergy. A short walk brought Dick to the manse. After a few words of greeting he presented the Sergeant’s paper. Mr. Porteous inquired, with rather a sceptical expression on his countenance-- "Is Mr. Mercer really unwell, and unable to come?" "I have told you the truth, sir," was the Corporal’s dignified and short reply. Mr. Porteous asked what was wrong with him? The Corporal replied that he did not know, but that he was feverish, he thought, and was certainly confined to bed.