"Tead—tead as a herring, too—Got pless us!"
The count still breathed, but a ball had passed through his breast, beating into the wound a portion of his cuirass and buff coat; thus he suffered the most excruciating agony. But as I still hoped he might live, I desired the Highlanders to cross their fatal muskets, and with their plaids laid over the barrels, to form a temporary bier, on which we conveyed him, groaning heavily and bleeding profusely, to the out-guard, where M'Coll of that Ilk commanded, and from thence to the sconce, where the regiment received me as one who had indeed returned from the dead; for Ian and all the officers had most respectable knots of black crape on their sword-hilts and left arms, in honour of my memory. Even the standard poles had the same grim livery, which was very gratifying to me; as men have seldom an opportunity of beholding the respect paid to their memory when defunct.
"Tell me, Ian," said I, when the congratulations had a little subsided; "has Ernestine heard the rumour of my death?"
"She believes you to be a prisoner in Kiel."
"And these confounded badges of crape—for whom does she believe they are worn?"
"For the Duke of Pomerania, as I told her."
"But old Bagislaus IV. is not dead."
"It matters not—his name was the first that occurred to me."
"Ah! pray, Ian, go—or send some one to say that I am safe—that I am here, and in a few minutes will be by her side."
"Dioul! why not go yourself?"