we reach
London town. From the ownership of broad moorland and large steading they
will come down to own no more of earth than six foot by two."

"They will be dying as brave gentlemen should," she said, softly, her
voice full of tears.

"And if I am one of them?" I asked, making a more home thrust.

The girl stood there tall, slim, pallid, head thrown back, the pulse in
the white curved throat beating fast.

"Oh Kenneth, you will not be," she cried piteously.

"But if I am?"

"Please, Kenneth?" Her low voice implored me to desist; so too the deep
billowing breasts and melting eyes.

"The fighting will be sharp and our losses heavy. It's his death many a
man is going to, Aileen."

"Yes, and if you will be believing me, Kenneth, the harder part iss for
those of us who cannot fight but must wear away the long days and mirk
nights at home. At the least I am thinking so whatever. The long live day
we sit, and can do nothing but wait and wait. After every fight will not
some mother be crooning the coronach for her dear son? Every glen will
have its wailing wife and its fatherless bairns. And there will be the
lovers too for whom there iss the driech wait, forby (besides) that maybe
their dearest will be lying under the rowans with their een steekit (eyes
fixed) in death."

"There are some of us who have neither mother, wife, nor lover. Will there
be none to spare a tear for us if we fall?"

"Indeed, and there will, but"--a wan little smile broke through the film
of gathering tears--"we will be waiting till they are needed, and we will
be praying that the evil day may never come."

"I'm hoping that myself," I told her, smiling, "but hope never turns aside
the leaden bullet."

"Prayers may," she answered quickly, the shy lids lifting from the blue
eyes bravely to meet my look, "and you will never be wanting (lacking)
mine, my friend." Then with the quick change of mood that was so
characteristic of her, she added: "But I will be the poor friend, to fash
(bother) you with all these clavers (idle talk) when I should be
heartening you. You are glad to be going, are you not?"

All the romance and uplift of our cause thrilled through me.

"By God, yes! When my King calls I go."

Her eyes shone on me, tender, wistful, proud.

"And that's the true word, Kenneth. It goes to the heart of your friend."

"To hear you say that rewards me a hundred times, dear."

I rose to go. She asked, "Must you be leaving already?