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Old Aleck came in, and walked to where the Sergeant slept, wrapped close in that white frosted coverlet which man wears but once. He stood for a moment silent, his fingers numbly clasped. Private Gellatly spoke softly: "Angels betide me, it's little we knew the great of him till he wint away; the pride, and the law and the love of him."

Her face, that is, such of it as could be seen above the cloak and under the cap, was full in the light. Enough was seen, however, to call forth, in addition to Corporal Galna's good- night, the exclamation," Well, I'm blowed!" As Jen vanished into the night a moment after, she heard a voice calling not Corporal Galna's "Sergeant Gellatly, Sergeant Gellatly!"

But he was found that morning; and when Private Gellatly, with a warm hand, touching the glove of "iron and ice" that, indeed, now said: "Sergeant Fones, you are promoted, God help you!" he gave no sign. Motionless, stern, erect, he sat there upon his horse, beside a stunted larch tree. The broncho seemed to understand, for he did not stir, and had not done so for hours; they could tell that.

A moment, and she was at his horse's head. Another, and her warm hand clasped the pale, moist, and wrinkled one which hung by the horse's neck. His coat at the shoulder was stained with blood, and there was a handkerchief about his head. This this was Sergeant Tom Gellatly! She looked up at Pierre, an agony of inquiry in her eyes, and pointing mutely to the wounded man.

But if the gods were angry at the Indian, why should Sergeant Gellatly only sway to and fro, and now laugh recklessly, and now fall sleepily forward on the neck of his horse; while the Indian rode straight, and neither wavered nor wandered in mind, but at last slipped from his horse and walked beside the other?

The Sergeant had caught him wild and independent, had brought him in, broken him, and taught him obedience. They understood each other; perhaps they loved each other. But about that even Private Gellatly had views in common with the general sentiment as to the character of Sergeant Fones.

W. Stewart Rose's faithful and affectionate attendant, furnished Scott with some hints for his picture of Davie Gellatly in Waverley. Mr. Lockhart tells us that Hinves was more than forty years in Mr. Rose's service; he had been a bookbinder by trade and a preacher among the Methodists.

The last I saw of them, on a recent visit to the north, was at a dinner-party in the house of my old friend Gellatly Macbride; and after we had, in classic phrase, "rejoined the ladies," I had an opportunity to overhear Flora conversing with another married woman on the much canvassed matter of a husband's tobacco. "O yes!" said she; "I only allow Mr. Nicholson four cigars a day.

When Sergeant Gellatly appeared in court at the trial he refused to bear witness against Little Hammer. "D' ye think does wan av y' think that I'll speak a word agin the man haythen or no haythen that pulled me out of me tomb and put me betune the barrack quilts?

Three good friends, two good friends Vive la compagnie!" What did it mean? Private Gellatly was cousin to Idaho Jack, and Idaho Jack disliked Pretty Pierre, though he had been one of the gang. The cousins had seen each other lately, and Private Gellatly had had a talk with the man who was ha'sh. It may be that others besides Pierre had an idea of what it meant.