Forty-five.' Scots
regiments, sir, a' the warld ower, hae had the best o't for fechtin',
marchin', or glory. See them at the auld grand wars o' Sweden wi'
Gus-tavus, was there ever the like o' them? Or in your ain country,
whaure's the bate o' the Gairde Ecossay, as they ca't?"

He spoke with such a zest, he seemed to fire with such a martial glow,
that Montaiglon began to fancy that this amusing grotesque, who in
stature came no higher than his waist, might have seen some service as
sutler or groom in a campaigning regiment.

"_Ma foi!_" he exclaimed, with his surprise restrained from the most
delicate considerations for the little man's feelings; "have you been in
the wars?"

It was manifestly a home-thrust to Mungo. He had risen, in his moment
of braggadocio, and was standing over the fish with a horn-hilted
gutting-knife in his hands, that were sanguine with his occupation, and
he had, in the excess of his feeling, made a flourish of the knife,
as if it were a dagger, when Montaiglon's query checked him. He was
a bubble burst, his backbone--that braced him to the tension of a
cuirassier of guards--melted into air, into thin air, and a ludicrous
limpness came on him, while his eye fell, and confusion showed about his
mouth.

"In the wars!" he repeated. "Weel--no jist a'thegether what ye micht
call i' the wars--though in a mainner o' speakin', gey near't. I had an
uncle oot wi' Balmerina; ye may hae heard tell o'm, a man o' tremendous
valour, as was generally al-ooed--Dugald Boyd, by my faither's side.
There's been naethin' but sogers in oor family since the be-ginnin'
o' time, and mony ane o' them's deid and dusty in foreign lands. It it
hadnae been for the want o' a half inch or thereby in the height o'
my heels "--here he stood upon his toes--"I wad hae been in the airmy
mysel'. It's the only employ for a man o' spunk, and there's spunk in
Mungo Boyd, mind I'm tellin' ye!"

"It is the most obvious thing in the world, good Mungo," said
Montaiglon, smiling. "You eviscerate fish with the gusto of a
gladiator."

And then an odd thing happened to relieve Mungo's embarrassment and end
incontinent his garrulity. Floating on the air round the bulge of the
turret came a strain of song in a woman's voice, not powerful, but
rich and sweet, young in its accent, the words inaudible but the air
startling to Count Victor, who heard no more than half a bar before
he had realised that it was the unfinished melody of the noc