emotion, "cut in two with a tulwar in a skirmish with hill tribes, he turned to me"
"After being cut in two?" interrupted the younger lady.
"He turned to me," said the major inflexibly, "and putting his hand in mine, he said, with his last breath, 'Toby'—that was what he always called me—'Toby,' he said, 'I have a' Your husband was his brother, I think you said, ma'am?"
"No, it was Mr. Scully's uncle who went into the army."
"Ah, quite so. 'I have a nephew in England,' he said, 'who is very dear to me. He is married to a charming woman. Search out the young couple, Toby. Guard over them. Protict them!' Those were his last words, madam. Next moment his sowl had fled. When I heard your name casually mintioned I could not feel satisfied in me mind until I had come across and ascertained if you were the lady in question."
Now, this narrative not only surprised the widow, which was not unnatural, seeing that it was entirely an invention of the old soldier's, but it appealed to her weakest point. The father of the deceased Scully had been of plebeian origin, so that the discovery in the family of a real major-general—albeit he was dead—was a famous windfall, for the widow had social ambitions which hitherto she had never been able to gratify. Hence she smiled sweetly at the veteran in a way which stimulated him to further flights of mendacity.
"Sure he and I were like brothers," he said. "He was a man that any one might well be proud to know. Commander-in-chief said to me once, 'Clutterbuck,' says he, 'I don't know what we'd do if we had a European war. I've no one I can rely on,' says he. 'There's Scully,' says I. 'Right,' says he, 'Scully would be our man.' He was terribly cut up when this occurred. 'Here's a blow to the British army!' he remarked, as he looked down at him where he lay with a bullet through his head—he did, madam, be Jove!"
