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 Tis an ugsome bit of road!" said the Corporal, looking round him.

"The pistols?"

"Primed and loaded, your honour."

"After all, Bunting, a little skirmish would be no bad sport—eh?—especially to an old soldier like you."

"Augh, baugh! 'tis no pleasant work, fighting, without pay, at least; 'tis not like love and eating, your honour, the better for being, what they calls, 'gratis!

"Yet I have heard you talk of the pleasure of fighting; not for pay, Bunting, but for your King and Country!"

"Augh! and that's when I wanted to cheat the poor creturs at Grassdale, your honour; don't take the liberty to talk stuff to my master!"

They continued thus to beguile the way, till Walter again sank into a reverie, while the Corporal, who began more and more to dislike the