"I’m Charlie’s bairn!" exclaimed the starling.
"Dinna tell me, Adam, tae kill the bird! It’s no’ me, but you, should do sic wark. Ye’re a man and a sodger, and it was you teached him, and got us into this trouble."
"Sae be’t!" said the Sergeant. "I’ve done mair bluidy jobs in my day, and needna fear tae spill, for the sake o’ peace, the wee drap bluid o’ the puir h airmless thing. What way wid ye like it kilt?"
"Ye should ken best yersel’, gudeman; killin’ is no woman’s wark," said Katie, in a low voice, as she turned her head away and looked at the wall.
"Aweel then, since ye leave it to me," replied Adam, "I’ll gie him a sodger’s death. It’s the maist honourable, and the bit mannie deserves a’ honour frae our hands, for he has done his duty pleasantly, in fair and foul, in simmer and winter, to us baith, and tae----Never heed--I’ll shoot him at dawn o’ day, afore he begins whistlin’ for his breakfast; and he’ll be buried decently. You and Mr. Porteous will no’ be bothered wi’ him lang. Sae as that’s settled and determined, we may gang to the kirk wi’ a guid conscience."
"What’s your hurry, Adam?" asked Katie, in a half-peevish tone of voice. "Sit doon and let a body speak."
"I’m jist thinking," said Katie, "that ye’ll maybe no’ get onybody to gie ye a gun for sic a cruel job; and if ye did, the noise sae early in the morning wad frichten folk, and mak’ an awfu’ clash amang neeboors, and luik dreadfu’ daft in an elder."
"Jock Hall has a gun I could get. But noo that I think o’t, Jock himsel’ will do the job, for he’s fit for onything, and up tae everything except what’s guid. I’ll send him Charlie and the cage in the morning, afore ye rise; sae keep your mind easy," said the Sergeant, carelessly.
"I wadna trust Charlie into Jock Hall’s power--the cruel ne’er-do-weel that he is! Na, na; whatever has to be done maun be done decently by yersel’, gudeman," protested Katie.
"Ye said, gudewife, to Mr. Porteous," replied Adam, "that ye kent I wad do onything to please him and to gie satisfaction for this misfortun’, as ye ca’ed it; and sin’ you and him agree that the bird is to be kilt, I suppose I maun kill him to please ye baith; I see but ae way left o’ finishing him."
"Doonricht cruelty," suggested Katie, "to thraw the neck o’ a wee thing like that! Fie on ye, gudeman! Ye’re no like yersel’ the day."