st,
hen-hearted, he met with little, indeed I may say no sympathy on account of
his complaints, but rather with contempt; for there was not a man in our
whole regiment, save himself, that did not hate cowardice with his whole
heart, and despise it with his whole soul. Whether he actually was
suffering from bodily pain, in addition to the pain of his spirit, or not,
it is not for me to judge. The doctor came to the rear to see him, and he
said that Mr Barlowman certainly was in a state of high fever, that would
render him incapable of being of much service. But I thought that he made
the declaration in an ironical sort of tone; and whether it was a fever of
fear, of spiritual torment, or of bodily torment, he did not tell. One
thing is certain, the one frequently begets the other.

The words of the doctor gave a sort of license to bold Jonathan Barlowman,
and his moaning and his groaning, his writhing and complaining, increased.
He began to fall behind, and now stood fumbling with his pinching shoes, or
bent himself double with his hands across his breast, sighing piteously,
and shedding tears in abundance. At length we lost sight and hearing of
him, and we imagined that he had turned back, or peradventure, lain down by
the way; but there was no time for us to return to seek him, nor yet to
look after one man, when, belike a hundred thousand French had landed.

Well, it was about an hour after the final disappearance of Jonathan, that
a stranger joined our ranks in his stead. He took his place close by my
side. He carried a firelock over his shoulder, and was dressed in a
greatcoat; but so far as I could judge from his appearance in the dark, I
suspected him to be a very young man. I could not get a word out of him,
save that in answer to a question--"Are ye Mr Barlowman's substitute?"

And he answered--"Yes."

Beyond that one word, I could not get him to open his mouth. However, I
afterwards ascertained that the youth overtook Jonathan, while he was
writhing in agony upon the road, and declaring aloud that he would give any
money, from ten to a hundred guineas, for a substitute, besides his arms
and accoutrements. The young man leaped at the proposal, or rather at a
part of it, for he said he would take no money, but that the other should
give him his arms, ammunition, and such like, and he would be his
substitute. Jonathan joyfully accepted the conditions; but whether or not
his pains and groanings left him, when rel