"No, sir, I do not. I merely ask you to relieve me from the dreadful task of being my comrade's executioner."
"Then I'll be d—d if I do!" said the military tyrant.
"You had better, sir, for your own sake," replied M'Intyre.
"What, sir! Do you threaten me?" exclaimed Colonel Maberly, in an outrageous passion.
"Oh no, sir," replied M'Intyre, with an air of affected respect; but it was one in which some deep mysterious meaning might have been discovered. "Will you absolve me from this duty?"
"No, sir; I will not," replied Colonel Maberly, turning on his heel, and cutting the conference short by walking away.
"Your blood be upon your own head, you cruel, merciless man!" muttered M'Intyre, as he looked after Colonel Maberly, himself continuing to stand the while in the spot where the latter had left him.
M'Intyre soon after returned to his quarters, and was seen calmly and silently preparing his arms for the dreadful duty which they were about to be called on to perform. In making these preparations, he was observed to be particularly careful that everything should be in the most serviceable condition. He fitted several flints to his piece, snapping each repeatedly, before being satisfied with its efficiency, and was even at the pains to dry and pulverise a small quantity of powder for priming, to insure a more certain explosion than could be counted on in its original state of grittiness.
In the meantime, the hour of execution approached, and at length arrived. The entire regiment was drawn out to witness the example which was about to be made of the consequences that attended such departures from duty as M'Leod's misconduct involved. Being formed in military order, and the prisoner placed in a conspicuous yet secure position, the whole were marched off, to the music of fife and muffled drum, to a level piece of ground at the distance of about a quarter of a mile from the quarters occupied by the regiment. M'Leod's conduct on this trying occasion was in perfect keeping with his general character. It was calm, firm, and manly. His step was steady and dignified; and his whole bearing bespoke at once a resigned and undaunted spirit. Yet it might not, nay, it certainly would not, have been so, had he known that the comrade of his bosom was to be one of his executioners. This, however, had been mercifully concealed from him. It was all his fellow-soldiers could do for him; but, to a man, had they all anxiously and carefully kept from him the appalling secret; for they knew it would have unnerved him in the hour of trial—in the hour of death.
All unconscious, therefore, of the additional misery with which the cruel order of his commanding officer was yet to visit him, M'Leod marched undauntedly on to his doom. His mien was erect, his eye calm and composed, and a slight paleness of countenance alone bore testimony to his consciousness of the awful situation in which he was placed. On reaching the locality intended for the scene of execution, the corps was formed into three sides of a square. In the centre of that which was vacant, the prisoner was placed; and, at the distance of about twenty yards further in the square, stood the firing party. On the left of these, and between them and the prisoner, stood Colonel Maberly, who, in consequence of having seen some very marked symptoms of disgust with his severity in the corps, had determined on presiding at the execution in person.