him, whether his
fate was really preferable in leaving his own rough coffin unoccupied
behind him there. Lieutenant (I think Edward) Uthwart, as being the
younger of the two offenders, 'by the mercy of the court' had his
sentence commuted to dismissal from the army with disgrace. A
colour-sergeant then advanced with the former officer's sword, a
remarkably fine one, which he thereupon snapped in sunder over the
prisoner's head as he knelt. After this the prisoner's regimental coat
was handed forward and put upon him, the epaulettes and buttons being
then torn off and flung to a distance. This part of [238] such
sentences is almost invariably spared; but, I suppose through
unavoidable haste, was on the present occasion somewhat rudely carried
out. I shall never forget the expression of this man's countenance,
though I have seen many sad things in the course of my profession. He
had the sort of good looks which always rivet attention, and in most
minds friendly interest; and now, amid all his pain and bewilderment,
bore a look of humility and submission as he underwent those
extraordinary details of his punishment, which touched me very oddly
with a sort of desire (I cannot otherwise express it) to share his lot,
to be actually in his place for a moment. Yet, alas! --no! say rather
Thank Heaven! the nearest approach to that look I have seen has been on
the face of those whom I have known from circumstances to be almost
incapable at the time of any feeling whatever. I would have offered
him pecuniary aid, supposing he needed it, but it was impossible. I
went on with the regiment, leaving the poor wretch to shift for
himself, Heaven knows how, the state of the country being what it is.
He might join the enemy!"

What money Uthwart had about him had in fact passed that morning into
the hands of his guards. To tell what followed would be to accompany
him on a roundabout and really aimless journey, the details of which he
could never afterwards recall. See him lingering for morsels [239] of
food at some shattered farmstead, or assisted by others almost as
wretched as himself, sometimes without his asking. In his worn
military dress he seems a part of the ruin under which he creeps for a
night's rest as darkness comes on. He actually came round again to the
scene of his disgrace, of the execution; looked in vain for the precise
spot where he had knelt; then, almost envying him who lay there, for
the unmarked grave