LIBRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 DR. HERBERT FINGARETTE 
 U.C.S.B.
 
 (y: 
 
 ^^/?- i_;^;?^ ^ti^2.c>e^'
 
 CHARLES O'MALLEY 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES LEVER. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY PHIZ. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I.. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 1904.
 
 University Press: 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.
 
 ' '^ LJBKARY 
 
 4 88 'f UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 (152, 
 
 ^' I TO THE 
 
 MOST NOBLE THE MARQUESS OF DOURO, 
 
 M.P., D.C.L., ETC., ETC. 
 
 Mt Dear Lord, — 
 
 The imperfect attempt to picture forth some scenes of the most 
 brilliant period of my country's history might naturally suggest their 
 dedication to the son of him who gave that era its glory. I feel, how- 
 ever, in the weakness of the effort, the presumption of such a thought, 
 and would simply ask of you to accept these volumes as a souvenir of 
 many delightful hours passed long since in your society, and a testi- 
 mony of the deep pride with which I regard the honor of your 
 friendship. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Lord, with every respect and esteem. 
 
 Yours, most sincerely, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 Beussels, November, 1841.
 
 A WORD OF EXPLANATION. 
 
 Kind Public, — 
 
 Having so lately taken my leave of the stage, in a 
 farewell benefit, It is but fitting that I should explain the 
 circumstances which once more bring me before you, — that 
 I may not appear intrusive, where 1 have met with but too 
 much indulgence. 
 
 A blushing debutant — entre nous, the most impudent 
 Irishman that ever swaggered down Sackville Street — has 
 requested me to present him to your acquaintance. He has 
 every ambition to be a favorite with you ; but says — God 
 forgive him — he is too bashful for the foot-lights. 
 
 He has remarked — as, doubtless, many others have done 
 — upon what very slight grounds, and with what slender pre- 
 tension, my Confessions have met with favor at the hands of 
 the press and the pubHc ; and the idea has occurred to him to 
 indite his own. Had his determination ended here, I should 
 have nothing to object to ; but unfortunately, he expects 
 me to become his editor, and in some sort responsible for 
 the faults of his production. I have wasted much eloquence 
 and more breath in assuring him that I was no tried favorite 
 of the public, who dared take liberties with them ; that the 
 small rag of reputation I enjoyed, was a very scanty cover- 
 ing for my own nakedness ; that the plank which swam with 
 one, would most inevitably sink with two ; and lastly, that 
 the indulgence so often bestowed upon a first effort is as 
 frequently converted into censure on the older offender.
 
 Vi A WORD or EXPLANATION. 
 
 My arguments have, however, totally failed, and he remains 
 obdurate and unmoved. Under these circumstances I have 
 yielded ; and as, happily for me, the short and pithy direc- 
 tion to the river Thames, in the Critic, " to keep between its 
 banks," has been imitated by my friend, I find all that is 
 required of me is to write my name upon the title and go 
 in peace. Such, he informs me, is modern editorship. 
 
 In conclusion, I would beg, that if the debt he now incurs 
 at your hands remain unpaid, you would kindly bear in 
 mind that your remedy lies against the drawer of the bill 
 and not against its mere humble iudorser, 
 
 HARRY LORREQUER 
 Brussels, March, 1840.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The success of Hany Lorrequer was the reason for 
 writing Charles O'Malley. That I myself was in no wise 
 prepared for the favor the public bestowed on my first 
 attempt is easily enough understood. The ease with which 
 I strung my stories together, — aud in reality the Confes- 
 sions of Harry Lorrequer are little other than a note-book of 
 absurd and laughable incidents, — led me to believe that I 
 could draw on this vein of composition without any limit 
 whatever. I felt, or thought I felt, an inexhaustible store 
 of fun and buoyancy within me, and I began to have a 
 misty, half-confused impression that Englishmen generally 
 labored under a sad-colored temperament., took depressing 
 views of life, and were proportionately grateful to any one 
 who would rally them even passingly out of their despon- 
 dency, and give them a laugh without much trouble for 
 going in search of it. 
 
 When I set to work to write Charles O'Malley I was, as I 
 have ever been, very low with fortune, and the success of a 
 new venture was pretty much as eventful to me as the turn of 
 the right color at rouge-et-noir. At the same time I had 
 then an amount of spring in my temperament, and a power 
 of enjoying life which I can honestly say I never found sur- 
 passed. The world had for me all the interest of an admir- 
 able comedy, in which the part allotted myself, if not a high 
 or a foreground one, was eminently suited to my taste, and 
 brought me, besides, sufficiently often on the stage to enable 
 me to follow all the fortunes of the piece. Brussels, where 
 I was then living, was adorned at the period by a most
 
 Vlil PREFACE. 
 
 agreeable English society. Some leaders of the fashionable 
 world of London had come there to refit and recruit, both in 
 body and estate. There were several pleasant and a great 
 number of pretty people among them ; and so far as I could 
 judge, the fashionable dramas of Belgrave Square and its 
 vicinity were being performed in the Rue Royale and the Bou- 
 levard de Waterloo with very considerable success. There 
 were dinners, balls, dejeftners, and picnics in the Bois de 
 Cambre, excursions to Waterloo, and select little parties to 
 Bois-f ort, — a charming little resort in the forest whose in- 
 tense cockneyism became perfectly inoffensive as being in a 
 foreign land, and remote from the invasion of home-bred 
 vulgarity. I mention all these things to show the adjuncts 
 by which I was aided, and the rattle of gayety by which I 
 was, as it were, " accompanied," when 1 next tried my 
 voice. 
 
 The soldier element tinctured strongly our society, and 1 
 will say most agreeably. Among those whom I remember 
 best were several old Peninsulars. Lord Combermere was 
 of this number, and another of our set was an officer who 
 accompanied, if indeed he did not command, the first boat 
 party who crossed the Douro. It is needless to say how I 
 cultivated a society so full of all the storied details I was 
 eager to obtain, and how generously disposed were they to 
 give me all the information I needed. On topography espe- 
 cially were they valuable to me, and with such good result 
 that I have been more than once complimented on the accu- 
 racy of my descriptions of places which I have never seen and 
 whose features I have derived entirely from the narratives 
 of my friends. 
 
 When, therefore, my publishers asked me could I write a 
 story in the Lorrequer vein, in which active service and 
 military adventure could figure more prominently than mere 
 civilian life, and where the achievements of a British army 
 might form the staple of the narrative, — when this question 
 was propounded me, I was ready to reply : Not one, but fifty. 
 Do not mistake me, and suppose that any overweening con- 
 fidence in my literary powers would have emboldened me to 
 make this reply ; my whole strength lay in the fact that I
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 could not recognize anything like literary effort in the matter. 
 If the world would only condescend to read that which I 
 wrote precisely as I was in the habit of talking, nothing 
 could be easier than for me to occupy them. Not alone was 
 it very easy to me, but it was intensely interesting and amus- 
 ing to myself, to be so engaged. 
 
 The success of Harry Lorrequer had been freely wafted 
 across the German ocean, but even in its mildest accents it 
 was very intoxicating incense to me ; and I set to work on 
 my second book with a thrill of hope as regards the world's 
 favor which — and it is no small thing to say it — I can yet 
 recall. 
 
 I can recall, too, and I am afraid more vividly still, some 
 of the difficulties of my task when I endeavored to form 
 anything like an accurate or precise idea of some campaign- 
 ing incident or some passage of arms from the narratives of 
 two distinct and separate " eye-witnesses." What mistrust 
 I conceived for all eye-witnesses from my own brief expe- 
 rience of their testimonies ! What an impulse did it lend me 
 to study the nature and the temperament of narrator, as 
 Indicative of the peculiar coloring he might lend his narra- 
 tive ; and how it taught me to know the force of the French 
 epigram that has declared how it was entirely the alternating 
 popularity of Marshal Soult that decided whether he won or 
 lost the battle of Toulouse. 
 
 While, however, I was sifting these evidences, and sepa- 
 rating, as well as I might, the wheat from the chaff, I was in 
 a measure training myself for what, without my then know- 
 ing it, was to become my career in life. This was not there- 
 fore altogether without a certain degree of labor, but so light 
 and pleasant withal, so full of picturesque peeps at charac- 
 ter and humorous views of human nature, that it would 
 be the very rankest ingratitude of me if I did not own that 
 I gained all my earlier experiences of the world in very 
 pleasant company, — highly enjoyable at the time, and with 
 matter for charming souvenirs long after. 
 
 That certain traits of my acquaintances found themselves 
 embodied in some of the characters of this story I do not 
 seek to deny. The principal of natural selection adapts
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 itself to novels as to Nature, and it would have demanded an 
 effort above my strength to have disabused myself at the 
 desk of all the impressions of the dinner-table, and to have 
 forgotten features which interested or amused me. 
 
 One of the personages of my tale I drew, however, with 
 very little aid from fancy. I would go so far as to say that 
 I took him from the life, if my memory did not confront me 
 with the lamentable inferiority of my picture to the great 
 original it was meant to portray. 
 
 With the exception of the quality of courage, I never met 
 a man who contained within himself so many of the traits of 
 Falstaff as the individual who furnished me with Major 
 Monsoon. But the major — I must call him so, though that 
 rank was far beneath his own — was a man of unquestion- 
 able bravery. His powers as a story-teller were to my think- 
 ing unrivalled ; the peculiar reflections on life which he 
 would passingly introduce, the wise apothegms, were after a 
 moralit}' essentially of his own invention. Then he would in- 
 dulge in the unsparing exhibition of himself in situations such 
 as other men would never have confessed to, all blended up 
 with a racy enjoyment of life, dashed occasionally with sor- 
 row that our tenure of it was short of patiiarchal. All 
 these, accompanied by a face redolent of intense humor, and 
 a voice whose modulations were managed with the skill of a 
 consummate artist, — all these, I say, were above me to 
 convey ; nor mdeed as I re-read any of the adventures in 
 which he figures, am I other than ashamed at the weakness 
 of my drawing and the poverty of my coloring. 
 
 That I had a better claim to personify him than is always 
 the lot of a novelist ; that I possessed, so to say, a vested 
 interest in his life and adventures, — I will relate a little 
 incident in proof ; and my accuracy, if necessary, can be 
 attested by another actor in the scene, who yet survives. 
 
 I was living a bachelor life at Brussels, my family being at 
 Ostende for the bathing, during the summer of 1840. The 
 city was comparatively empty, — all the so-called society 
 being absent at the various spas or baths of Germany. One 
 member of the British Legation, who remained at his posttc 
 represent the mission, and myself, making common cause oi
 
 PREFACE. ^1 
 
 our desolation and ennui, spent much of our time together, 
 and dined t^te-cl-tete every day. 
 
 It chanced that one evening, as we were hastening through 
 the park on our way to dinner, we espied the major — for as 
 major I must speak of him — lounging along with that half- 
 careless, half-observant air we had both of us remarked as 
 indicating a desire to be somebody's, anybody's guest, rather 
 than surrender himself to the homeliness of domestic fare. 
 
 " There 's that confounded old Monsoon," cried my diplo- 
 matic friend. "It's all up if he sees us, and I can't endure 
 him." 
 
 Now, I must remark that my friend, though very far from 
 insensible to the humoristic side of the major's character, 
 was not always in the vein to enjoy it ; and when so indis- 
 posed he could invest the object of his dislike with some- 
 thing little short of antipathy. "Promise me," said he, as 
 Monsoon came towards us, — "promise me, you'll not ask 
 him to dinner." Before T could make any reply, the major 
 was shaking a hand of either of us, and rapturously expatiat- 
 ing over his good luck at meeting us. " Mrs. M.," said he, 
 " has got a dreary party of old ladies to dine with her, and 
 I have come out here to find some pleasant fellow to join 
 me, and take our mutton-chop together." 
 
 " "We 're behind our time, Major," said my friend, " sorry 
 to leave you so abruptly, but must push on. Eh, Lorrequer," 
 added he, to evoke corroboration on my part. 
 
 " Harry says nothing of the kind," replied Monsoon, " he 
 says, or he 's going to say, ' Major, I have a nice bit of dinner 
 waiting for me at home, enough for two, will feed three, or if 
 there be a short-coming, nothing easier than to eke out the 
 deficiency b}' another bottle of Moulton ; come along with 
 us then. Monsoon, and we shall be all the merrier for your 
 company.' " 
 
 Repeating his last words, " Come along. Monsoon," etc., 
 I passed my arm within his, and away we went. For a 
 moment my friend tried to get free and leave me, but I held 
 him fast and carried him along in spite of himself. He was, 
 however, so chagrined and provoked that till the moment we 
 reached my door he never uttered a word, nor paid the slight-
 
 XU PREFACE. 
 
 est attention to Monsoon, who talked away in a vein that 
 occasionally made gravity all but impossible. 
 
 Our dinner proceeded drearily enough, the diplomatist's 
 stiffness never relaxed for a moment, and my own awkward- 
 ness damped all my attempts at conversation. Not so, how- 
 ever. Monsoon, he ate heartily, approved of everything, and 
 pronounced my wine to be exquisite. He gave us a perfect 
 discourse on sherry and Spanish wines in general, told us 
 the secret of the Amontillado flavor, and explained that 
 process of browning by boiling down wine which some are 
 so fond of in England. At last, seeing perhaps that the 
 protection had little charm for us, with his accustomed tact, 
 he diverged into anecdote. " I was once fortunate enough," 
 said he, " to fall upon some of that choice sherry from the 
 St. Lucas Luentas which is always reserved for royalty. It 
 was a pale wine, delicious in the drinking, and leaving no 
 more flavor in the mouth than a faint dryness that seemed 
 to say, another glass. Shall I tell you how I came by it?" 
 And scarcely pausing for reply, he told the story of having 
 robbed his own convoy, and stolen the wine he was in charge 
 of for safe conveyance. 
 
 I wish I could give any, even the weakest idea of how he 
 narrated that incident, — the struggle that he portrayed be- 
 tween duty and temptation, and the apologetic tone of his 
 voice in which he explained that the frame of mind that 
 succeeds to any yielding to seductive influences, is often, in 
 the main, more profitable to a man than is the vain-glorious 
 sense of having resisted a temptation. " Meekness is the 
 mother of all the virtues," said he, " and there is no being 
 meek without frailty." The story, told as he told it, was too 
 much for the diplomatist's gravity, he resisted all signs of 
 attention as long as he was able, and at last fairly roared 
 out with laughter. 
 
 As soon as I myself recovered from the effects of his 
 drollery, I said, " Major, I have a proposition to make 
 you. Let me tell the story in print, and I'll give you five 
 naps." 
 
 " Are 3'ou serious, Harry ? " asked he. " Is this on honor ?" 
 
 *' On honor, assuredly," I replied.
 
 PREFACE. Xiu 
 
 *' Let me have the money down, on the nail, and I'll give 
 you leave to have me and my whole life, every adventure 
 that ever befell me, ay, and if you like, every moral reflec- 
 tion that my experiences have suggested." 
 
 " Done ! " cried I, " I agree." 
 
 " Not so fast," cried the diplomatist, " we must make a 
 protocol of this ; the high contracting parties must know 
 what they give and what they receive. 1 '11 draw out the 
 treaty." 
 
 He did so at full length on a sheet of that solemn blue- 
 tinted paper, so dedicated to despatch purposes ; he duly set 
 fourth the concession and the consideration. We each signed 
 the document ; he witnessed and sealed it ; and Monsoon 
 pocketed my five napoleons, filling a bumper to any success 
 the bargain might bring me, and of which I have never had 
 reason to express deep disappointment. 
 
 This document, along with my university degree, my com- 
 mission in a militia regiment, and a vast amount of letters 
 very interesting to me, was seized by the Austrian authori- 
 ties on the way from Como to Florence, in the August of 
 1847, being deemed part of a treasonable correspondence, — 
 probably purposely allegorical in form, — and never restored 
 to me, I fairly own that I 'd give all the rest willingly to 
 repossess myself of the Monsoon treaty, not a little for the 
 sake of that quaint old autograph, faintly shaken by the 
 quiet laugh with which he wrote it. 
 
 That I did not entirely fail in giving my major some 
 faint resemblance to the great original from whom I copied 
 him, I may mention that he was speedily recognized in print 
 by the Marquis of Londonderry, the well-known Sir Charles 
 Stuart of the Peninsular campaign. " I know that fellow 
 well," said he, " he once sent me a challenge, and I had to 
 make him a very humble apology. The occasion was this : I 
 had been out with a single aide-de-camp to make a reeonnois- 
 sance in front of Victor's division ; and to avoid attracting 
 any notice, we covered over our uniform with two common 
 gray overcoats which reached to the feet, and effectually 
 concealed our rank as officers. Scarcely, however, had we 
 topped a hill which commanded the view of the French,
 
 XIV PREFACE. 
 
 than a shower of shells flew over and around us. Amazed 
 to think how we could have been so quickly noticed, I looked 
 around me, and discovered, quite close in my rear, your 
 friend Monsoon with what he called his staff, — a popinjay 
 set of rascals dressed out in green and gold, and with more 
 plumes and feathers than the general staff ever boasted. 
 Carried away by momentary passion at the failure of my 
 reconnoissance, I burst out with some insolent allusion to 
 the harlequin assembly which had drawn the French fire 
 upon us. Monsoon saluted me respectfully, and retired 
 without a word ; but I had scarcely reached my quarters 
 when a ' friend* of his waited on me with a message, a very 
 categorical message it was, too, ' it must be a meeting or an 
 ample apology.' I made the apology, a most full one, for 
 the major was right, and I had not a fraction of reason to 
 sustain me in my conduct, and we have been the best of 
 friends ever since." 
 
 I myself had heard the incident before this from Mon- 
 soon, but told among other adventures whose exact veracity 
 I was rather disposed to question, and did not therefore 
 accord it all the faith that was its due ', and I admit that the 
 accidental corroboration of this oue event very often served 
 to puzzle me afterwards, when 1 listened to stories in which 
 the major seemed a second Munchausen, but might, like in 
 this of the duel, have been among the truest and most 
 matter-of-fact of historians. May the reader be not less 
 embarrassed than myself, is my sincere, if not very courte- 
 ous, prayer. 
 
 I have no doubt myself, that often in recounting some 
 strange incident, — a personal experience it always was, — 
 he was himself more amused by the credulity of the hearers, 
 and the amount of interest he could excite in them, than 
 were they by the story. He possessed the true narrative 
 gusto, and there was a marvellous instinct in the way in which 
 he would vary a tale to suit the tastes of an audience ; while 
 his moralizings were almost certain to take the tone of a 
 humoristic quiz on the company. 
 
 Though fully aware that I was availing myself of the 
 contract that delivered him into my hands, and dining with
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 me two or three days a week, he never lapsed into any 
 allusion to his appearance in print ; and the story had been 
 already some weeks published before he asked me to lend 
 him " that last thing — he forgot the name of it — I was 
 writing." 
 
 Of Frank Webber I have said, in a former notice, that he 
 was one of my earliest friends, my chum in college, and in 
 the very chambers where I have located Charles O'Malley, 
 in Old Trinity. He was a man of the highest order of abili- 
 ties, and with a memory that never forgot, but ruined and 
 run to seed by the idleness that came of a discursive, uncer- 
 tain temperament. Capable of anything, he spent his youth 
 in follies and eccentricities ; every one of which, however, 
 gave indications of a mind inexhaustible in resources, and 
 abounding in devices and contrivances that none other but 
 himself would have thought of. Poor fellow, he died young ; 
 and perhaps it is better it should have been so. Had he 
 lived to a later day, he would most probably have been found 
 a foremost leader of Feuianism ; and from what I knew of 
 him, I can say he would have been a more dangerous enemy 
 to English rule than any of those dealers in the petty larceny 
 of rebellion we have lately seen among us. 
 
 I have said that of Mickey Free I had not one but one 
 thousand types. Indeed, I am not quite sure that in my 
 last visit to Dublin, I did not chance on a living specimen 
 of the " Free" family, much readier in repartee, quicker with 
 an apropos, and droller in illustration than my own Mickey. 
 This fellow was " boots" at a great hotel in Sackville Street ; 
 and I owe him more amusement and some heartier laughs 
 than it has been always my fortune to enjoy in a party of 
 wits. His criticisms on my sketches of Irish character were 
 about the shrewdest and the best I ever listened to ; and 
 that I am not bribed to this by any flattery, I may remark 
 that they were more often severe than complimentary, 
 and that he hit every blunder of image, every mistake in 
 figure, of my peasant characters, with an acuteness and 
 correctness which made me very grateful to know that his 
 daily occupations were limited to blacking boots, and not 
 polishing off authors.
 
 xvi PREFACE. 
 
 I believe I have now done with my confessions, except I 
 should like to own that this story was the means of accord- 
 ing me a more heartfelt glow of satisfaction, a more gratify- 
 ing sense of pride, than anything I ever have or ever shall 
 write, and in this wise. My brother, at that time the rector 
 of an Irish parish, once forwarded to me a letter from a lady 
 unknown to him, but who had heard he was the brother of 
 *' Harry Lorrequer," and who addressed him not knowing 
 where a letter might be directed to myself. The letter was 
 the grateful expression, of a mother, who said, " I am the 
 widow of a field officer, and with an only son, for whom I 
 obtained a presentation to Woolwich ; but seeing in my boy's 
 nature certain traits of nervousness and timidity which in- 
 duced me to hesitate on embarking him in the career of a 
 soldier, I became very unhappy and uncertain which course 
 to decide on. 
 
 " While in this state of uncertainty, I chanced to make 
 him a birthday present of ' Charles O'Malley,' the reading 
 of which seemed to act like a charm on his whole character, 
 inspiring him with a passion for movement and adventure, 
 and spiriting him to an eager desire for a military life. See- 
 ing that this was no passing enthusiasm, but a decided and 
 determined bent, I accepted the cadetship for him ; and his 
 career has been not alone distinguished as a student, but 
 one which has marked him out for an almost hare-brained 
 courage, and for a dash and heroism that give high promise 
 for his future. 
 
 " Thank your brother for me," wrote she, " a mother's 
 thanks for the welfare of an only son ; and say how I wish 
 that my best wishes for him and his could recompense him 
 for what I owe him." 
 
 I humbly hope that it may not be imputed to me as un- 
 pardonable vanity, — the recording of this incident. It gave 
 me an intense pleasure when I heard it ; and now, as I look 
 back on it, it invests this story for myself with an interest 
 which nothing else that I have written can afford me. 
 
 I have now but to repeat what I have declared in former 
 editions, my sincere gratitude for the favor the public still 
 continues to bestow on me, — a favor which probably asso-
 
 PREFACE. xvu 
 
 ciates the memory of this book with whatever I have since 
 done successfully, and compels me to remember that to the 
 popularity of " Charles O'Malley " I am indebted for a great 
 share of that kindliness in criticism, and that geniality in 
 judgment, which — for more than a quarter of a century — 
 my countrymen have graciously bestowed on their faithful 
 friend and servant, 
 
 CHARLES LEVER. 
 
 Trieste, 1872.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. Daly's Club-house 1 
 
 11. The Escape 7 
 
 III. Mr. Blake 13 
 
 IV. The Hunt 22 
 
 V. The Drawing-room 30 
 
 VI. The Dinner 34 
 
 VII. The Flight from Gurt-na-Morra 46 
 
 VIII. The Duel 55 
 
 IX. The Return 63 
 
 X. The Election 68 
 
 XI. An Adventure 78 
 
 XII. Mickey Free 84 
 
 XIII. The Journey 96 
 
 XIV. Dublin . . 107 
 
 XV. Captain Power 116 
 
 XVI. The Vice-provost 129 
 
 XVII. Trinity College. — A Lecture 135 
 
 XVIII. The Invitation.— The Wager 143 
 
 XIX. The Ball 147 
 
 XX. The Last Night in Trinity 162 
 
 XXL The Phienix Park 172 
 
 XXIL The Road 181 
 
 XXIIL Cork 188 
 
 XXIV. The Adjutant's Dinner 195 
 
 XXV. The Entanglement 199 
 
 XXVI. The Preparation 205 
 
 XXVIL The Supper 211 
 
 XXVIII. The Voyage 221 
 
 XXIX. The Adjutant's Story. — Life in Derry . . . 229 
 
 XXX. Fred Power's Adventure in Philipstown . . 240
 
 XX 
 
 Chapter 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 XL. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 XLIIL 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 XLVL 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 L. 
 
 LI. 
 
 LII. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 LV. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Lvn. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 LX. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 LXVL 
 
 liXVIL 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 The Voyage Continued 252 
 
 Mr. Sparks's Story 257 
 
 The Skipper 267 
 
 The Land 284 
 
 Major Monsoon 289 
 
 The Landing 300 
 
 Lisbon 312 
 
 The Rua Nuova 318 
 
 The Villa 325 
 
 The Dinner 329 
 
 The Route 333 
 
 The Farewell 336 
 
 The March 342 
 
 The Bivouac 351 
 
 The Douro 361 
 
 The Morning 372 
 
 The Review 377 
 
 The Quarrel 383 
 
 The Route Continued 389 
 
 The Watch-fire 393 
 
 The March 402 
 
 The Page 406 
 
 Alvas 413 
 
 The Supper 419 
 
 The Legion 426 
 
 The Departure 429 
 
 Cuesta 440 
 
 The Letter 443 
 
 Major O'Shaughnessy 447 
 
 Preliminaries 451 
 
 All Right 454 
 
 The Duel 457 
 
 News from Galway 463 
 
 An Adventure with Sir Arthur 470 
 
 Talavera 474 
 
 Night after Talavera 481 
 
 The Outpost 485
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 Volume One. 
 
 lEtrl^inQS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 The Sunk Fence , . . . Frontispiece 
 
 The Last Xight in Trinity 171 
 
 Charles pops the Question 219 
 
 The Picnic 266 
 
 Mr. Free making free 424 
 
 miustrations in X\^t STeit. 
 
 Mr. Blake's Dressing-Room 35 
 
 The Election 71 
 
 Mr. Crow well plucked 105 
 
 Frank Webber at his Studies Ill 
 
 Miss Judy Macan 153 
 
 The Adjutant's After-dinner Ride 238 
 
 The Rival Flunkies 249 
 
 Major Monsson and Donna ^Iaria 309 
 
 The Salutation 359 
 
 A Touch at Leap-Frog with Xapoleon 404 
 
 ]\Iajor Monsson trying to charge 415 
 
 Mr. Free's Song 437 
 
 The Coat of Mail 461
 
 CHARLES O'MALLEY, 
 
 THE IRISH DRAGOON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 daly's club-house. 
 
 The rain was dashing in torrents against the window- 
 panes, and the wind sweeping in heavy and fitful gusts 
 along the dreary and deserted streets, as a party of three 
 persons sat over their wine, in that stately old pile which 
 once formed the resort of the Irish Members, in College 
 Green, Dublin, and went by the name of Daly's Club- 
 House. The clatter of falling tiles and chimney-pots, the 
 jarring of the window-frames, and howling of the storm 
 without seemed little to affect the spirits of those within 
 as they drew closer to a blazing fire before which stood a 
 small table covered with the remains of a dessert, and an 
 abundant supply of bottles, whose characteristic length of 
 neck indicated the rarest wines of France and Germany; 
 while the portly magnum of claret — the wine par excel- 
 lence of every Irish gentleman of the day — passed rapidly 
 from hand to hand, the conversation did not languish, and 
 many a deep and hearty laugh followed the stories which 
 every now and then were told, as some reminiscence of 
 early days was recalled, or some trait of a former com- 
 panion remembered. 
 
 One of the party, however, was apparently engrossed by 
 other thoughts than those of the mirth and merriment 
 around ; for in the midst of all he would turn suddenly 
 from the others, and devote himself to a number of scat- 
 tered sheets of paper, upon which he had written some 
 
 VOL. I. — 1
 
 2 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 lines, but whose crossed and blotted sentences attested how 
 little success had waited upon his literary labors. This 
 individual was a short, plethoric-looking, white-haired man 
 of about fifty, with a deep, round voice, and a chuckling, 
 smothering laugh, which, whenever he indulged, not only 
 shook his own ample person, but generally created a petty 
 earthquake on every side of him. For the present, I shall 
 not stop to particularize him more closely ; but when I add 
 that the person in question was a well-known member of 
 the Irish House of Commons, whose acute understanding 
 and practical good sense were veiled under an affected and 
 well-dissembled habit of blundering that did far more for 
 his party than the most violent and pointed attacks of his 
 more accurate associates, some of my readers may antici- 
 pate me in pronouncing him to be Sir Harry Boyle. Upon 
 his left sat a figure the most unlike him possible. He was 
 a tall, thin, bony man, with a bolt-upright air and a most 
 saturnine expression ; his eyes were covered by a deep green 
 shade, which fell far over his face, but failed to conceal 
 a blue scar that crossing his cheek ended in the angle of 
 his mouth, and imparted to that feature, when he spoke, 
 an apparently abortive attempt to extend towards his eye- 
 brow ; his upper lip was covered with a grizzly and ill- 
 trimmed mustache, which added much to the ferocity of 
 his look, while a thin and pointed beard on his chin gave 
 an apparent length to the whole face that completed its 
 rueful character. His dress was a single-breasted, tightly 
 buttoned frock, in one button-hole of Avhich a yellow rib- 
 bon was fastened, the decoration of a foreign service, which 
 conferred upon its wearer the title of count; and though 
 Billy Considine, as he was familiarly called by his friends, 
 was a thorough Irishman in all his feelings and affections, 
 yet he had no objection to the designation he had gained 
 in the Austrian army. The Count was certainly no beauty, 
 but somehow, very few men of his day had a fancy for tell- 
 ing him. so. A deadlier hand and a steadier eye never cov- 
 ered his man in the Phoenix ; and though he never had 
 a seat in the House, he was always regarded as one of 
 the government party, who more than once had damped 
 the ardor of an opposition member by the very significant
 
 DALY'S CLUB-HOUSE, 3 
 
 threat of " setting Billy at him." The third figure of the 
 group was a large, powerfully built, and handsome man, 
 older than either of the others, but not betraying in his 
 voice or carriage any touch of time. He was attired in the 
 green coat and buff vest which formed the livery of the 
 club ; and in his tall, ample forehead, clear, well-set eye, 
 and still handsome mouth, bore evidence that no great flat- 
 tery was necessary at the time which called Godfrey O'Mal- 
 ley the handsomest man in Ireland. 
 
 " Upon my conscience," said Sir Harry, throwing down 
 his pen with an air of ill-temper, *' I can make nothing of 
 it ! I have got into such an infernal habit of making bulls, 
 that I can't write sense when I want it ! " 
 
 " Come, come," said O'Malley, " try again, my dear fellow. 
 If you can't succeed, I 'm sure Billy and I have no chance." 
 
 " AVhat have you written ? Let us see," said Considine, 
 drawing the paper towards him, and holding it to the light. 
 " Why, what the devil is all this ? You have made him 
 * drop down dead after dinner of a lingering illness brought 
 on by the debate of yesterday.' " 
 
 " Oh, impossible ! " 
 
 " Well, read it yourself ; there it is. And, as if to make 
 the thing less credible, you talk of his 'Bill for the Better 
 Recovery of Small Debts.' I'm sure, O'Malley, your last 
 moments were not employed in that manner." 
 
 " Come, now," said Sir Harry, " I '11 set all to rights with 
 a postscript. *Any one who questions the above statement 
 is politely requested to call on Mr. Considine, 16 Kildare 
 Street, who will feel happy to afford him every satisfac- 
 tion upon Mr. O'Malley's decease, or upon miscellaneous 
 matters.' " 
 
 " Worse and worse," said O'Malley. "Killing another man 
 will never persuade the world that I 'm dead." 
 
 " But we '11 wake you, and have a glorious funeral." 
 
 " And if any man doubt the statement, I '11 call him out," 
 said the Count. 
 
 " Or, better still," said Sir Harry, " O'Malley has his action 
 at law for defamation." 
 
 " I see I '11 never get down to Galway at this rate," said 
 O'Malley ; " and as the new election takes place on Tuesday
 
 4 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 week, time presses. There are more writs flying after me 
 this instant than for all the government boroughs." 
 
 "And there will be fewer returns, I fear," said Sir Harry. 
 
 "Who is the chief creditor ? " asked the Count. 
 
 " Old Stapleton, the attorney in Fleet Street, has most of 
 the mortgages." 
 
 " Nothing to be done with him in this way ? " said Con- 
 sidine, balancing the corkscrew like a hair trigger. 
 
 " No chance of it." 
 
 " May be," said Sir Harry, " he might come to terms if I 
 were to call and say, 'You are anxious to close accounts, 
 as your death has just taken place.' You know what I 
 mean." 
 
 " I fear so should he, were you to say so. No, no, Boyle, 
 just try a plain, straightforward paragraph about my death ; 
 we '11 have it in Falkner's paper to-morrow. On Friday the 
 funeral can take place, and, with the blessing o' God, I '11 
 come to life on Saturday at Athlone, in time to canvass the 
 market." 
 
 " I think it would n't be bad if your ghost were to appear 
 to old Timins the tanner, in Naas, on your way down. You 
 know he arrested you once before." 
 
 " I prefer a night's sleep," said O'Malley. " But come, 
 finish the squib for the paper." 
 
 " Stay a little," said Sir Harry, musing ; " it just strikes 
 me that if ever the matter gets out I may be in some con- 
 founded scrape. Who knows if it is not a breach of privi- 
 lege to report the death of a member ? And to tell you 
 truth, I dread the Sergeant and the Speaker's warrant with 
 a very lively fear." 
 
 " Why, when did you make his acquaintance ? " said the 
 Count. 
 
 " Is it possible you never heard of Boyle's committal ? " 
 said O'Malley. " You svirely must have been abroad at the 
 time. But it 's not too late to tell it yet. 
 
 " Well, it 's about tAVO years since old Townsend brought 
 in his Enlistment Bill, and the whole country was scoured 
 for all our voters, who were scattered here and there, never 
 anticipating another call of the House, and supposing that 
 the session was just over. Among others, up came our friend
 
 DALY'S CLUB-HOUSE. 5 
 
 Harry, here, and the night he arrived they made him a 'Monk 
 of the Screw,' and very soon made him forget his senatorial 
 dignities. On the evening after his reaching town, the bill 
 ■was brought in, and at two in the morning the division took 
 place, — a vote was of too much consequence not to look 
 after it closely, — and a Castle messenger was in waiting 
 in Exchequer Street, who, when the debate was closing, put 
 Harry, with three others, into a coach, and brought them 
 down to the House. Unfortunately, however, they mistook 
 their friends, voted against the bill, and amidst the loud- 
 est cheering of the opposition, the government party were 
 defeated. The rage of the ministers knew no bounds, and 
 looks of defiance and even threats were exchanged between 
 the ministers and the deserters. Amidst all this poor Harry 
 fell fast asleep and' dreamed that he was once more in 
 Exchequer Street, presiding among the monks, and mixing 
 another tumbler. At length he awoke and looked about 
 him. The clerk was just at the instant reading out, in his 
 usual routine manner, a clause of the new bill, and the 
 remainder of the House was in dead silence. Harry looked 
 again around on every side, wondering where was the hot 
 water, and what had become of the whiskey bottle, and 
 above all, why the company were so extremely dull and un- 
 genial. At length, with a half-shake, he roused up a little, 
 and giving a look of unequivocal contempt on every side, 
 called out, * Upon my soul, you 're pleasant companions ; 
 but I '11 give you a chant to enliven you ! ' So saying, he 
 cleared his throat with a couple of short coughs, and struck 
 up, with the voice of a Stentor, the following verse of a pop- 
 ular ballad : — 
 
 * And they nibbled away, both night and day, 
 
 Like mice in a round of Glo'ster ; 
 Great rogues they were all, both great and small, 
 From Flood to Leslie Foster. 
 Great rogues all. 
 
 Chorus, boys ! ' If he was not joined by the voices of his 
 friends in the song, it was probably because such a roar of 
 laughing never was heard since the walls were roofed over. 
 The whole House rose in a mass, and my friend Harry was
 
 6 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 hurried over the benches by the sergeant-at-arms, and left 
 for three weeks in Newgate to practise his melody." 
 
 "All true," said Sir Harry; "and worse luck to them for 
 not liking music. But come, now, will this do ? ' It is our 
 melancholy duty to announce the death of Godfrey O'Mal- 
 ley, Esq., late member for the county of Galway, which took 
 place on Friday evening, at Daly's Club-House. This es- 
 teemed gentleman's family — one of the oldest in Ireland, 
 and among whom it was hereditary not to have any chil- 
 dren — ' " 
 
 Here a bvirst of laughter from Considine and O'Malley 
 interrupted the reader, who with the greatest difficulty could 
 be persuaded that he was again bulling it. 
 
 " The devil fly away with it," said he ; "I '11 never suc- 
 ceed." 
 
 " Never mind," said O'Malley, " the first part will do ad- 
 mirably ; and let us now turn our attention to other matters," 
 
 A fresh magnum was called for, and over its inspiring con- 
 tents all the details of the funeral were planned ; and as the 
 clock struck four the party separated for the nighty well sat- 
 isfied with the result of their labors.
 
 CHAPTEK n. 
 
 THE ESCAPE. 
 
 When the dissolution of Parliament was announced the 
 following morning in Dublin, its interest in certain circles 
 was manifestly increased by the fact that Godfrey O'Malley 
 Avas at last open to arrest ; for as in olden times certain 
 gifted individuals possessed some happy immunity against 
 death by fire or sword, so the worthy O'Malley seemed to 
 enjoy a no less valuable privilege, and for many a year 
 had passed among the myrmidons of the law as writ-proof. 
 Now, however, the charm seemed to have yielded ; and pretty 
 much with the same feeling as a storming party may be sup- 
 posed to experience on the day that a breach is reported as 
 practicable, did the honest attorneys retained in the various 
 suits against him rally round each other that morning in the 
 Four Courts. 
 
 Bonds, mortgages, post-obits, promissory notes — in fact, 
 every imaginable species of invention for raising the O'Mal- 
 ley exchequer for the preceding thirty years — were handed 
 about on all sides, suggesting to the mind of an uninterested 
 observer the notion that had the aforesaid O'Malley been an 
 independent and absolute monarch, instead of merely being 
 the member for Galway, the kingdom over whose destinies 
 he had been called to preside would have suffered not a lit- 
 tle from a depreciated currency and an extravagant issue of 
 paper. Be that as it might, one thing was clear, — the whole 
 estates of the family could not possibly pay one fourth of 
 the debt ; and the only question was one which occasionally 
 arises at a scanty dinner on a mail-coach road, — who was 
 to be the lucky individual to carve the joint, where so many 
 were sure to go off hungry ? 
 
 It was now a trial of address between these various and 
 highly gifted gentlemen who should first pounce upon the 
 victim ; and when the skill of their caste is taken into con- 
 sideration, who will doubt that every feasible expedient for
 
 8 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 securing him was resorted to ? While writs were struck 
 against him in Dublin, emissaries were despatched to the 
 various surrounding (bounties to procure others in the event 
 of his escape. Ne exeats were sworn, and water-bailiffs en- 
 gaged to follow him on the high seas ; and as the great 
 Nassau balloon did not exist in those days, no imaginable 
 mode of escape appeared possible, and bets were offered at 
 long odds that within tAventy-four hours the late member 
 would be enjoying his otium mem dignitate in his Majesty's 
 jail of Newgate. 
 
 Expectation was at the highest, confidence hourly increas- 
 ing, success all but certain, when in the midst of all this 
 high-bounding hope the dreadful rumor spread that O'Mal- 
 ley was no more. One had seen it just five minutes before 
 in the evening edition of Falkner's paper ; another heard it 
 in the courts ; a third overheard the Chief-Justice stating it 
 to the Master of the Rolls ; and lastly, a breathless witness 
 arrived from College Green with the news that Daly's Club- 
 House was shut up, and the shutters closed. To describe 
 the consternation the intelligence caused on every side is 
 impossible ; nothing in history equals it, — except, perhaps, 
 the entrance of the French army into Moscow, deserted and 
 forsaken by its former inhabitants. While terror and dis- 
 may, therefore, spread amidst that wide and respectable body 
 who formed O'Malley's creditors, the preparations for his 
 funeral were going on with every rapidity. Relays of horses 
 were ordered at every stage of the journey, and it was an- 
 nounced that, in testimony of his worth, a large party of his 
 friends were to accompany his remains to Portumna Abbey, 
 — a test much more indicative of resistance in the event of 
 any attempt to arrest the body, than of anything like rever- 
 ence for their departed friend. 
 
 Such was the state of matters in Dublin when a letter 
 reached me one morning at O'Malley Castle, whose con- 
 tents will at once explain the writer's intention, and also 
 serve to introduce my unworthy self to my reader. It ran 
 thus : — 
 
 Daly's, about eight in the evening. 
 
 Dear Charley, — Your uncle Godfrey, whose debts (Gwl pardon 
 him !) are more ni;merous than the hairs of his wig, was obliged to
 
 THE ESCAPE. 9 
 
 die here last nigbt. We did the thing for him completely ; and all 
 doubts as to the reality of the event are silenced by the circumstantial 
 detail of the newspaper, " that he was confined six weeks to his bed 
 from a cold he caught, ten days ago, while on guard." Repeat this ; 
 for it is better we had all the same story till he comes to life again, 
 which, may be, will not take place before Tuesday or Wednesday. At 
 the same time, canvass the county for him, and say he '11 be with his 
 friends next week, and up in Woodford and the Scariff barony. Say 
 he died a true Catholic ; it will serve him on the hustings. Meet vts 
 in Athlone on Saturday, and bring your uncle's mare with you. He 
 says he 'd rather ride home. And tell Father Mac Shane to have a 
 bit of dinner ready about four o'clock, for the corpse can get nothing 
 after he leaves Mountmellick. No more now, from 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 Harry Boyle, 
 To Charles O'Malley, Esq., 
 O'jMalley Castle, Galway. 
 
 When this not over-clear document reached me I was the 
 sole inhabitant of O'Malley Castle, — a very ruinous pile of 
 incongruous masonry, that stood in a wild and dreary part 
 of the county of Galway, bordering on the Shannon. On 
 every side stretched the property of my uncle, or at least 
 what had once been so ; and indeed, so numerous were its 
 present claimants that he would have been a subtle lawyer 
 who could have pronounced upon the rightful owner. The 
 demesne around the castle contained some well-grown and 
 handsome timber, and as the soil was undulating and fer- 
 tile, presented many features of beauty ; beyond it, all was 
 sterile, bleak, and barren. Long tracts of brown heath-clad 
 mountain or not less unprofitable valleys of tall and waving 
 fern were all that the eye could discern, except where the 
 broad Shannon, exyjanding into a tranquil and glassy lake, 
 lay still and motionless beneath the dark mountains, a few 
 islands, with some ruined churches and a round tower, alone 
 breaking the dreary waste of water. 
 
 Here it was that I passed my infancy and my youth ; and 
 here I now stood, at the age of seventeen, quite unconscious 
 that the world contained aught fairer and brighter than that 
 gloomy valley with its rugged frame of mountains. 
 
 When a mere child, I was left an orphan to the care of
 
 10 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 my worthy uncle. My father, whose extravagance had well 
 sustained the family reputation, had squandered a large and 
 handsome property in contesting elections for his native 
 county, and in keeping up that system of unlimited hospi- 
 tality for which Ireland in general, and Galway more espe- 
 cially, was renowned. The result was, as might be expected, 
 ruin and beggary. He died, leaving every one of his estates 
 encumbered with heavy debts, and the only legacy he left to 
 his brother was a boy four years of age, entreating him with 
 his last breath, " Be anything you like to him, Godfrey, but 
 a father, or at least such a one as I have proved." 
 
 Godfrey O'Malley some short time previous had lost his 
 wife, and when this new trust was committed to him he re- 
 solved never to remarry, but to rear me up as his own child 
 and the inheritor of his estates. How weighty and onerous 
 an obligation this latter might prove, the reader can form 
 some idea. The intention was, however, a kind one ; and to 
 do my uncle justice, he loved me with all the affection of a 
 warm and open heart. 
 
 From my earliest years his whole anxiety was to fit me for 
 the part of a country gentleman, as he regarded that char- 
 acter, — namely, I rode boldly with fox-hounds ; I was about 
 the best shot within twenty miles of us ; I could swim the 
 Shannon at Holy Island ; I drove four-in-hand better than 
 the coachman himself ; and from finding a hare to hooking 
 a salmon, my equal could not be found from Killaloe to 
 Banagher. These were the staple of my endowments. Be- 
 sides which, the parish priest had taught me a little Latin, 
 a little French, a little geometry, and a great deal of the 
 life and opinions of Saint Jago, who presided over a holy 
 well in the neighborhood, and was held in very considerable 
 repute. 
 
 When I add to this portraiture of my accomplishments 
 that I was nearly six feet high, with more than a common 
 share of activity and strength for my years, and no incon- 
 siderable portion of good looks, I have finished my sketch, 
 and stand before my reader. 
 
 It is now time I should return to Sir Harry's letter, which 
 so completely bewildered me that, but for the assistance of 
 Father Roach, I should have been totally unable to make
 
 THE ESCAPE. H 
 
 out the writer's intentions. By his advice, I immediately set 
 out for Athlone, where, when I arrived, I found my uncle ad- 
 dressing the mob from the top of the hearse, and recounting 
 his miraculous escapes as a new claim upon their gratitude. 
 
 " There was nothing else for it, boys ; the Dublin people 
 insisted on my being their member, and besieged the club- 
 house. I refused ; they threatened. I grew obstinate ; they 
 furious. ' I '11 die first,' said I. * Galway or nothing ! ' " 
 
 " Hurrah ! " from the mob. " O'Malley forever ! " 
 
 " And ye see, I kept my word, boys, — I did die ; I died 
 that evening at a quarter past eight. There, read it for your- 
 selves ; there 's the paper. Was waked and carried out, and 
 here I am after all, ready to die in earnest for you, but never 
 to desert you." 
 
 The cheers here were deafening, and my uncle was car- 
 ried through the market down to the mayor's house, who, 
 being a friend of the opposite party, was complimented with 
 three groans ; then up the Mall to the chapel, beside which 
 Father Mac Shane resided. He was then suffered to touch 
 the earth once more ; when, having shaken hands with all 
 of his constituency within reach, he entered the house, to 
 partake of the kindest welcome and best reception the good 
 priest could afford him. 
 
 My uncle's progress homeward was a triumph. The real 
 secret of his escape had somehow come out, and his popu- 
 larity rose to a white heat. "An' it's little O'Malley cares 
 for the law, — bad luck to it ; it 's himself can laugh at 
 judge and jury. Arrest him ? Nabocklish ! Catch a weasel 
 asleep ! " etc. Such were the encomiums that greeted him as 
 he passed on towards home ; while shouts of joy and blazing 
 bonfires attested that his success was regarded as a national 
 triumph. 
 
 The west has certainly its strong features of identity. 
 Had my uncle possessed the claims of the immortal How- 
 ard ; had he united in his person all the attributes which 
 confer a lasting and an ennobling fame upon humanity, — 
 he might have passed on unnoticed and unobserved ; but 
 for the man that had duped a judge and escaped the sheriff, 
 nothing was sufficiently flattering to mark their approba- 
 tion. The success of the exploit was twofold ; the news
 
 12 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 spread far and near, and the very story canvassed the county 
 better than Billy Davern himself, the Athlone attorney. 
 
 This was the prospect now before us ; and however little 
 my readers may sympathize with my taste, I must honestly 
 avow that I looked forward to it with a most delighted feel- 
 ing. O'jNIalley Castle was to be the centre of operations, 
 and filled with my uncle's supporters ; while I, a mere strip- 
 ling, and usually treated as a boy, was to be intrusted with 
 an important mission, and sent off to canvass a distant rela- 
 tion, with whom my uncle was not upon terms, and who 
 might possibly be approachable by a younger branch of the 
 family, with whom he had never any collision.
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 MB. BLAKE. 
 
 Nothing but the exigency of the case could ever have 
 persuaded my uncle to stoop to the humiliation of canvass- 
 ing the individual to whom I was now about to proceed as 
 envoy-extraordinary, with full powers to make any or every 
 amende, provided only his interest and that of his follow- 
 ers should be thereby secured to the O'Malley cause. The 
 evening before I set out was devoted to giving me all the 
 necessary instructions how I was to proceed, and what diffi- 
 culties I was to avoid. 
 
 " Say your uncle 's in high feather with the government 
 party," said Sir Harry, " and that he only votes against them 
 as a ruse de guerre, as the French call it." 
 
 " Insist upon it that I am sure of the election without 
 him ; but that for family reasons he should not stand aloof 
 from me ; that people are talking of it in the country." 
 
 "And drop a hint," said Considine, "that O'Malley is 
 greatly improved in his shooting." 
 
 " And don't get drunk too early in the evening, for Phil 
 Blake has beautiful claret," said another. 
 
 "And be sure you don't make love to the red-headed 
 girls," added a third ; " lie has four of them, each more 
 sinfully ugly than the other." 
 
 " You '11 be playing whist, too," said Boyle j " and never 
 mind losing a few pounds. Mrs. B., long life to her, has a 
 playful way of turning the king." 
 
 " Charley will do it all well," said my uncle ; " leave him 
 alone. And now let us have in the supper." 
 
 It was only on the following morning, as the tandem 
 came round to the door, that I began to feel the importance 
 of my mission, and certain misgivings came over me as to 
 my ability to fulfil it. Mr. Blake and his family, though 
 estranged from my uncle for several years past, had been
 
 14 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 always most kind and good-natured to me ; and although I 
 could not, with propriety, have cultivated any close inti- 
 macy with them, I had every reason to suppose that they 
 entertained towards me nothing but sentiments of good- 
 will. The head of the family was a Galway squire of the 
 oldest and most genuine stock, a great sportsman, a negli- 
 gent farmer, and most careless father; he looked upon a 
 fox as an infinitely more precious part of the creation than 
 a French governess, and thought that riding well with 
 hounds was a far better gift than all the learning of a 
 Porson. His daughters were after his own heart, — the best- 
 tempered, least-educated, most high-spirited, gay, dashing, 
 ugly girls in the county, ready to ride over a four-foot 
 paling without a saddle, and to dance the "Wind that 
 shakes the barley " for four consecutive hours, against all 
 the officers that their hard fate, and the Horse Guards, 
 ever condemned to Galway. 
 
 The mamma was only remarkable for her liking for 
 whist, and her invariable good fortune thereat, — a circum- 
 stance the world were agreed in ascribing less to the blind 
 goddess than her own natural endowments. 
 
 Lastly, the heir of the house was a stripling of about my 
 own age, whose accomplishments were limited to selling 
 spavined and broken-winded horses to the infantry officers, 
 playing a safe game at billiards, and acting as jackal-general 
 to his sisters at balls, providing them with a sufficiency 
 of partners, and making a strong fight for a place at the 
 supper-table for his mother. These fraternal and filial 
 traits, more honored at home than abroad, had made Mr. 
 Matthew Blake a rather well-known individual in the 
 neighborhood where he lived. 
 
 Though Mr. Blake's property was ample, and strange to 
 say for his county, unencumbered, the whole air and ap- 
 pearance of his house and grounds betrayed anything rather 
 than a sufficiency of means. The gate lodge was a miser- 
 able mud-hovel with a thatched and falling roof ; the gate 
 itself, a wooden contrivance, one half of which was boarded 
 and the other railed ; the avenue was covered with weeds, 
 and deep with ruts ; and the clumps of young plantation, 
 which had been planted and fenced with care, were now
 
 ME. BLAKE. 15 
 
 open to the cattle, and either totally uprooted or denuded of 
 their bark and dying. The lawn, a handsome one of some 
 forty acres, had been devoted to an exercise-ground for 
 training horses, and was cut up by their feet beyond all 
 semblance of its original destination; and the house itself, 
 a large and venerable structure of above a century old, dis- 
 played every variety of contrivance, as well as the usual 
 one of glass, to exclude the weather. The hall-door hung 
 by a single hinge, and required three persons each morning 
 and evening to open and shut it ; the remainder of the day 
 it lay pensively open ; the steps which led to it were bi-oken 
 and falling; and the whole aspect of things without was 
 ruinous in the extreme. Within, matters were somewhat 
 better, for though the furniture was old, and none of it 
 clean, yet an appearance of comfort was evident ; and the 
 large grate, blazing with its pile of red-hot turf, the deep- 
 cushioned chairs, the old black mahogany dinner-table, and 
 the soft carpet, albeit deep with dust, were not to be de- 
 spised on a winter's evening, after a hard day's run with 
 the "Blazers." Here it was, however, that Mr. Philip 
 Blake had dispensed his hospitalities for above fifty years, 
 and his father before him ; and here, with a retinue of ser- 
 vants as gaudies and ill-ordered as all about them, was he 
 accustomed to invite all that the county possessed of rank 
 and wealth, among which the officers quartered in his 
 neighborhood were never neglected, the Miss Blakes hav- 
 ing as decided a taste for the army as any young ladies of 
 the west of Ireland; and while the Galway squire, with 
 his cords and tops, was detailing the latest news from Bal- 
 linasloe in one corner, the dandy from St. James's Street 
 might be seen displaying more arts of seductive flattery in 
 another than his most accurate insouciane would permit him 
 to practise in the elegant salons of London or Paris, and 
 the same man who would have "cut his brother," for a sol- 
 ecism of dress or equipage, in Bond Street, was now to be 
 seen quietly domesticated, eating family dinners, rolling 
 silk for the young ladies, going down the middle in a 
 country dance, and even descending to the indignity of 
 long whist at " tenpenny " points, with only the miserable 
 consolation that the company were not honest.
 
 16 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 It was upon a clear frosty morning, when a bright blue 
 sky and a sharp but bracing air seem to exercise upon the 
 feelings a sense no less pleasurable than the balmiest 
 breeze and warmest sun of summer, that I whipped my 
 leader short round, and entered the precincts of " Gurt-na 
 Morra." As I proceeded along the avenue, I was struck by 
 the slight traces of repairs here and there evident, — a gate 
 or two that formerly had been parallel to the horizon had 
 been raised to the perpendicular ; some ineffectual efforts 
 at paint were also perceptible upon the palings ; and, in 
 short, everything seemed to have undergone a kind of 
 attempt at improvement. 
 
 When I reached the door, instead of being surrounded, as 
 of old, by a tribe of menials frieze-coated, bare-headed, and 
 bare-legged, my presence was announced by a tremendous 
 ringing of bells from the hands of an old functionary in a 
 very formidable livery, who peeped at me through the hall- 
 window, and whom, with the greatest difficulty, I recog- 
 nized as my quondam acquaintance, the butler. His wig 
 alone would have graced a king's^ counsel ; and the high 
 collar of his coat, and the stiff pillory of his cravat denoted 
 an eternal adieu to so humble a vocation as drawing a cork. 
 Before I had time for any conjecture as to the altered cir- 
 cumstances about, the activity of my friend at the bell had 
 surrounded me with " four others worse than himself," at 
 least they were exactly similarly attired; and probably 
 from the novelty of their costume, and the restraints of so 
 unusual a thing as dress, were as perfectly unable to assist 
 themselves or others as the Court of Aldermen would be 
 were they to rig out in plate armor of the fourteenth cen- 
 tury. How much longer I might have gone on conjectur- 
 ing the reasons for the masquerade around, I cannot say ; 
 but my servant, an Irish disciple of my uncle's, whispered 
 in my ear, " It 's a red-breeches day, Master Charles, — 
 they'll have the hoith of company in the house." From 
 the phrase, it needed little explanation to inform me that 
 it was one of those occasions on which Mr. Blake attired 
 all the hangers-on of his house in livery, and that great 
 preparations were in progress for a more than usually 
 splendid reception.
 
 MR. BLAIvE. IT 
 
 In the next moment I was ushered into the breakfast- 
 room, where a party of above a dozen persons were most 
 gayly enjoying all the good cheer for which the house had 
 a well-deserved repute. After the usual shaking of hands 
 and hearty greetings were over, I was introduced in all 
 form to Sir George Dashwood, a tall and singularly hand- 
 some man of about fifty, with an undress military frocJi 
 and ribbon. His reception of me was somewhat strange ; 
 for as they mentioned my relationship to Godfre}^ O'Malley, 
 he smiled slightly, and whispered something to Mr. Blake, 
 who replied, " Oh, no, no ; not the least. A mere boy ; 
 and besides — " What he added I lost, for at that moment 
 Nora Blake was presenting me to Miss Dashwood. 
 
 If the sweetest blue eyes that ever beamed beneath a 
 forehead of snowy whiteness, over which dark brown and 
 waving hair fell less in curls than masses of locky rich- 
 ness, could only have known what wild work they were 
 making of my poor heart. Miss Dashwood, I trust, would 
 have looked at her teacup or her muffin rather than at me, 
 as she actually did on that fatal morning. If I were to 
 judge from her costume, she had only just arrived, and 
 the morning air had left upon her cheek a bloom that con- 
 tributed greatly to the effect of her lovely countenance. 
 Although very young, her form had all the roundness of 
 womanhood ; while her gay and sprightly manner indicated 
 all the sans gene which only very young girls possess, and 
 which, when tempered with perfect good taste, and accom- 
 panied by beauty and no small share of talent, forms an 
 irresistible power of attraction. 
 
 Beside her sat a tall, handsome man of about five-and- 
 thirty or perhaps forty years of age, with a most soldierly 
 air, who as I was presented to him scarcely turned his 
 head, and gave me a half-nod of very unequivocal coldness. 
 There are moments in life in which the heart is, as it were, 
 laid bare to any chance or casual impression with a won- 
 drous sensibility of pleasure or its opposite. This to me 
 was one of those ; and as I turned from the lovely girl, 
 who had received me with a marked courtesy, to the cold 
 air and repelling hauteur of the dark-browed captain, the 
 blood rushed throbbing to my forehead ; and as I walked to 
 
 VOL. I. — 2
 
 18 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 my place at the table, I eagerly sought his eye, to return 
 him a look of defiance and disdain, proud and contemjituous 
 as his own. Captain Haniniersley, however, never took fur- 
 ther notice of me, but continued to recount, for the amuse- 
 ment of those about him, several excellent stories of his 
 military career, which, I confess, were heard with every test 
 of delight by all save me. One thing galled me particu- 
 larly, — and how easy is it, when you have begun by dis- 
 liking a person, to supply food for your antipathy, — all 
 his allusions to his military life were coupled with half- 
 hinted and ill-concealed sneers at civilians of every kind, 
 as though every man not a soldier were absolutely unfit 
 for common intercourse with the world, still more for any 
 favorable reception in ladies' society. 
 
 The young ladies of the family were a well-chosen au- 
 ditory, for their admiration of the army extended from 
 the Life Guards to the Veteran Battalion, the Sappers and 
 Miners included ; and as Miss Dash wood was the daugh- 
 ter of a soldier, she of course coincided in many of, if not 
 all, his opinions. I turned towards my neighbor, a Clare 
 gentleman, and tried to engage him in conversation, but 
 he was breathlessly attending to the captain. On my left 
 sat Matthew Blake, whose eyes were firmly riveted upon the 
 same person, and who heard his marvels wdth an interest 
 scarcely inferior to that of his sisters. Annoyed and in 
 ill-temper, I ate my breakfast in silence, and resolved that 
 the first moment I could obtain a hearing from Mr. Blake 
 I would open my negotiation, and take my leave at once 
 of Gurt-na-Morra. 
 
 We all assembled in a large room, called by courtesy the 
 library, when breakfast was over ; and then it was that Mr. 
 Blake, taking me aside, whispered, " Charley, it 's right I 
 should inform you that Sir George Dashwood there is the 
 Commander of the Forces, and is come down here at this 
 moment to — " What for, or how it should concern me, I 
 was not to learn ; for at that critical instant my informant's 
 attention was called off by Captain Hammersley asking if 
 the hounds were to hunt that day. 
 
 " My friend Charley here is the best authority upon that 
 matter," said Mr. Blake, turning towards me.
 
 MR. BLAKE. 19 
 
 " They are to try the Priest's meadows," said I, with an 
 air of some importance ; "but if your guests desire a day's 
 sport, I'll send word over to Brackely to bring the dogs 
 over here, and we are sure to find a fox in your cover." 
 
 " Oh, then, by all means," said the captain, turning 
 towards Mr. Blake, and addressing himself to him, — " by 
 all means ; and Miss Dashwood, I 'm sure, would like to 
 see the hounds throw off." 
 
 Whatever chagrin the first part of his speech caused 
 me, the latter set my heart a-throbbing ; and I hastened 
 from the room to despatch a messenger to the huntsman 
 to come over to Gurt-na-Morra, and also another to O'Mal- 
 ley Castle to bring my best horse and my riding equip- 
 ments as quickly as possible. 
 
 " Matthew, who is this captain ? " said I, as young Blake 
 met me in the hall. 
 
 "Oh, he is the aide-de-camp of General Dashwood. A 
 nice fellow, is n't he ? " 
 
 " I don't know what you may think," said I, " but I take 
 him for the most impertinent, impudent, supercilious — " 
 
 The rest of my civil speech was cut short by the appear- 
 ance of the very individual in question, who, with his hands 
 in his pockets and a cigar in his mouth, sauntered forth 
 down the steps, taking no more notice of Matthew Blake 
 and myself than the two fox-terriers that followed at his 
 heels. 
 
 However anxious I might be to open negotiations on the 
 subject of my mission, for the present the thing was impos- 
 sible ; for I found that Sir George Dashwood was closeted 
 closely with Mr. Blake, and resolved to wait till evening, 
 when chance might afford me the opportunity I desired. 
 
 As the ladies had retired to dress for the hunt, and as 
 I felt no peculiar desire to ally myself with the unsocial 
 captain, I accompanied Matthew to the stable to look after 
 the cattle, and make preparations for the coming sport. 
 
 " There 's Captain Hammersley's mare," said jNIatthew, as 
 he pointed out a highly bred but powerful English hunter. 
 " She came last night ; for as he expected some sport, he 
 sent his horses from Dublin on purpose. The others will 
 be here to-day."
 
 20 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "What is his regiment ?" said I, with an appearance of 
 carelessness, but in reality feeling curious to know if the 
 captain was a cavalry or infantry officer. 
 
 " The — th Light Dragoons," 
 
 " You never saw him ride ? " said I. 
 
 " Never ; but his groom there says he leads the way in 
 his own country." 
 
 " And where may that be ? " 
 
 " In Leicestershire, no less," said Matthew. 
 
 " Does he know Galway ? " 
 
 " Never was in it before. It 's only this minute he asked 
 Moses Daly if the ox-fences were high here." 
 
 " Ox-fences ! Then he does not know what a wall is ? " 
 
 " Devil a bit ; but we '11 teach him." 
 
 " That we will," said I, with as bitter a resolution to im- 
 part the instruction as ever schoolmaster did to whip Latin 
 grammar into one of the great unbreeched. 
 
 "But I had better send the horses down to the Mill," 
 said Matthew ; " we '11 draw that cover first." 
 
 So saying, he turned towards the stable, while I saun- 
 tered alone towards the road by which I expected the 
 huntsman. I had not walked half a mile before I heard 
 the yelping of the dogs, and a little farther on I saw old 
 Brackely coming along at a brisk trot, cutting the hounds 
 on each side, and calling after the stragglers. 
 
 " Did you see my horse on the road, Brackely ? " said I. 
 
 " I did, Misther Charles ; and troth, I 'm sorry to see him. 
 Sure yerself knows better than to take out the Badger, the 
 best steeple-chaser in Ireland, in such a country as this, — 
 nothing but awkward stone-fences, and not a foot of sure 
 ground in the whole of it." 
 
 " I know it well, Brackely ; but I have my reasons for it." 
 
 " Well, may be you have ; what cover will your honor try 
 first ? " 
 
 " They talk of the Mill," said I ; « but I 'd much rather 
 try Morran-a^Gowl." 
 
 " Morran-a-Gowl ! Do you want to break your neck 
 entirely ? " 
 
 " No, Brackely, not mine." 
 
 " Whose, then, alannah ? "
 
 MR. BLAKE. 21 
 
 " An English captain's, the devil fly away with him ! 
 He 's come down here to-day, and from all I can see is 
 a most impudent fellow ; so, Brackely — " 
 
 " I understand. Well, leave it to me ; and though I don't 
 Like the only deer-park wall on the hill, we '11 try it this 
 morning with the blessing. I '11 take him down by Wood- 
 ford, over the Devil's Mouth, — it 's eighteen foot wide this 
 minute with the late rains, — into the four callows ; then 
 over the stone-walls, down to Dangan ; then take a short 
 cast up the hill, blow him a bit, and give him the park wall 
 at the top. You must come in then fresh, and give him 
 the whole run home over Sleibhmich. The Badger knows 
 it all, and takes the road always in a fly, — a mighty dis- 
 tressing thing for the horse that follows, more particularly 
 if he does not understand a stony country. Well, if he 
 lives through this, give him the sunk fence and the stone 
 wall at Mr. Blake's clover-field, for the hounds will run into 
 the fox about there ; and though we never ride that leap 
 since INIr. Malone broke his neck at it, last October, yet 
 upon an occasion like this, and for the honor of Gal way — " 
 
 " To be sure, Brackely ; and here 's a guinea for you, and 
 now trot on towards the house. They must not see us to- 
 gether, or they might suspect something. But, Brackely," 
 said I, calling out after him, " if he rides at all fair, what 's 
 to be done ? " 
 
 " Troth, then, myself does n't know. There is nothing so 
 bad west of Athlone. Have ye a great spite again him ? " 
 
 " I have," said I, fiercely. 
 
 " Could ye coax a fight out of him ? " 
 
 " That 's true," said I ; " and now ride on as fast as you 
 can." 
 
 Brackely's last words imparted a lightness to my heart 
 and my step, and I strode along a very different man from 
 what I had left the house half an hour previously.
 
 CHAPTEK ly. 
 
 THE HUNT. 
 
 Although we had not the advantages of a southerly wind 
 and cloudy sky, the day towards noon became strongly over- 
 cast, and promised to afford us good scenting weather ; and as 
 we assembled at the meet, mutual congratulations were ex- 
 changed upon the improved appearance of the day. Young 
 Blake had provided Miss Dash wood with a quiet and well- 
 trained horse, and his sisters were all mounted as usual upon 
 their own animals, giving to our turnout quite a gay and 
 lively aspect. I myself came to cover upon a hackney, hav- 
 ing sent Badger with a groom, and longed ardently for the 
 moment when, casting the skin of my great-coat and over- 
 alls, I should appear before the world in my well-appointed 
 "cords and tops." Captain Hammersley had not as yet 
 made his appearance, and many conjectures were afloat as 
 to whether " he might have missed the road, or changed his 
 mind," or "forgot all about it," as Miss Dash wood hinted. 
 
 " Who, pray, pitched upon this cover ? " said Caroline 
 Blake, as she looked with a practised eye over the country 
 on either side. 
 
 " There is no chance of a fox late in the day at the Mill," 
 said the huntsman, inventing a lie for the occasion. 
 
 " Then of course you never intend us to see much of the 
 sport ; for after you break cover, you are entirely lost to us." 
 
 "I thought you always followed the hounds," said Miss 
 Dashwood, timidly. 
 
 " Oh, to be sure we do, in any common country, but here 
 it is out of the question ; the fences are too large for any 
 one, and if I am not mistaken, these gentlemen will not 
 ride far over this. There, look yonder, where the river 
 is rushing down the hill : that stream, widening as it ad- 
 vances, crosses the cover nearly midway, — well, they must 
 clear that ; and then you may see these walls of large loose
 
 THE HUNT. 23 
 
 stones nearly five feet in height. That is the usual course 
 the fox takes, unless he heads towards the hills and goes 
 towards Dangan, and then there 's an end of it ; for the 
 deer-park wall is usually a pull up to every one except, 
 perhaps, to our friend Charley yonder, Avho has tried his 
 fortune against drowning more than once there." 
 
 "Look, here he comes," said Matthew Blake, "and look- 
 ing splendidly too, — a little too much in flesh perhaps, if 
 anything." 
 
 " Captain Hammersley ! " said the four Miss Blakes, in a 
 breath. " Where is he ? " 
 
 " No ; it 's the Badger I 'm speaking of," said Matthew, 
 laughing, and pointing ■with his finger towards a corner of 
 the field where my servant was leisurely throwing down a 
 wall about two feet high to let him pass. 
 
 " Oh, how handsome ! What a charger for a dragoon ! " 
 said Miss Dashwood. 
 
 Any other mode of praising my steed would have been 
 much more acceptable. The word " dragoon " was a thorn in 
 my tenderest part that rankled and lacerated at every stir. 
 In a moment I was in the saddle, and scarcely seated when 
 at once all the mauvais honte of boyhood left me, and I felt 
 every inch a man. I often look back to that moment of 
 my life, and comparing it with similar ones, cannot help 
 acknowledging how purely is the self-possession which so 
 often wins success the result of some slight and trivial 
 association. My confidence in my horsemanship suggested 
 moral courage of a very different kind ; and I felt that 
 Charles O'Malley curveting upon a thorough-bred, and the 
 same man ambling upon a shelty, were tAvo and very dis- 
 similar individuals. 
 
 "No chance of the captain," said Matthew, who had re- 
 turned from a reconnaissance upon the road ; " and after all 
 it 's a pity, for the day is getting quite favorable." 
 
 While the young ladies formed pickets to look out for the 
 gallant milltaire, I seized the opportunity of prosecuting my 
 acquaintance with Miss Dashwood, and even in the few 
 and passing observations that fell from her, learned how 
 very different an order of being she was from all I had 
 hitherto seen of country belles. A mixture of courtesy with
 
 24 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 naivete; a wish to please, with a certain feminine gentle- 
 ness, that always flatters a man, and still more a boy that 
 fain would be one, — gained momentarily more and more 
 upon me, and put me also on my mettle to prove to my fair 
 companion that I was not altogether a mere uncultivated 
 and unthinking creature, like the remainder of those about 
 me. 
 
 " Here he is at last," said Helen Blake, as she cantered 
 across a field waving her handkerchief as a signal to the 
 captain, who was now seen approaching at a brisk trot. 
 
 As he came along, a small fence intervened ; he pressed 
 his horse a little, and as he kissed hands to the fair 
 Helen, cleared it in a bound, and was in an instant in the 
 midst of us. 
 
 " He sits his horse like a man, Misther Charles," said 
 the old huntsman ; " troth, we must give him the worst 
 bit of it." 
 
 Captain Hammersley was, despite all the critical acumen 
 with which I canvassed him, the very beau-ideal of a gentle- 
 man rider ; indeed, although a very heavy man, his power- 
 ful English thorough-bred, showing not less bone than blood, 
 took away all semblance of overweight ; his saddle was 
 well fitting and well placed, as also was his large and broad- 
 reined snaffle ; his own costume of black coat, leathers, and 
 tops was in perfect keeping, and even to his heavy-handled 
 hunting-whip I could find nothing to cavil at. As he rode 
 up he paid his respects to the ladies in his usual free and 
 easy manner, expressed some surprise, but no regret, at 
 hearing that he was late, and never deigning any notice of 
 Matthew or myself, took his place beside Miss Dashwood, 
 with whom he conversed in a low undertone. 
 
 " There they go ! " said Matthew, as five or six dogs, with 
 their heads up, ran yelping along a furrow, then stopped, 
 howled again, and once more set off together. In an in- 
 stant all was commotion in the little valley below us. The 
 huntsman, with his hand to his mouth, was calling off the 
 stragglers, and the whipper-in followed up the leading dogs 
 with the rest of the pack. " They 've found ! They 're 
 away ! " said Matthew ; and as he spoke a yell burst from 
 the valley, and in an instant the whole pack were off at full
 
 THE HUNT. 25 
 
 speed. Eather more intent that moment upon showing off 
 my horsemanship than anything else, I dasliecl spurs into 
 Badger's sides, and turned liim towards a rasping ditch be- 
 fore me ; over we went, hurling down behind us a rotten 
 bank of clay and small stones, showing how little safety 
 there had been in topping instead of clearing it at a bound. 
 Before I was well-seated again the captain was beside me. 
 " jSTow for it, then," said I ; and away we went. What 
 might be the nature of his feelings I cannot pretend to 
 state, but my own were a strange melange of wild, boyish 
 enthusiasm, revenge, and recklessness. For my own neck 
 I cared little, — nothing ; and as I led the way by half a 
 length, I muttered to myself, " Let him follow me fairly 
 this day, and I ask no more." 
 
 The dogs had got somewhat the start of us ; and as they 
 were in full cry, and going fast, we were a little behind. A 
 thought therefore struck me that, by appearing to take a 
 short cut upon the hounds, I should come down upon the 
 river where its breadth Avas greatest, and thus, at one coup, 
 might try my friend's mettle and his horse's performance at 
 the same time. On we went, our speed increasing, till the 
 roar of the river we were now approaching was plainly 
 audible. I looked half around, and now perceived the 
 captain was standing in his stirrups, as if to obtain a vicAV 
 of what was before him ; otherwise his countenance was 
 calm and unmoved, and not a muscle betrayed that he was 
 not cantering on a parade. I fixed myself firmly in my 
 seat, shook my horse a little together, and with a shout 
 whose import every Galway hunter well knows rushed 
 him at the river. I saw the Avater dashing among the large 
 stones ; I heard it splash ; I felt a bound like the ricochet of 
 a shot ; and we were over, but so narrowly that the bank 
 had yielded beneath his hind legs, and it needed a bold 
 effort of the noble animal to regain his footing. Scarcely 
 was he once more firm, when Hammersley flew by me, 
 taking the lead, and sitting quietly in his saddle, as if 
 racing. I know of little in my after-life like the agony of 
 that moment ; for although I was far, very far, from wishing 
 real ill to him, yet I would gladly have broken my leg or 
 my arm if he could not have been able to follow me. And
 
 26 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 now, there lie was, actually a length and a half in advance ! 
 and worse than all. Miss Dashwood must have witnessed 
 the whole, and doubtless his leap over the river was better 
 and bolder than mine. One consolation yet remained, and 
 while I whispered it to myself I felt comforted again. 
 " His is an English mare. They understand these leaps ; 
 but what can he make of a Galway wall ? " The question 
 was soon to be solved. Before us, about three fields, were 
 the hounds still in full cry ; a large stone-wall lay between, 
 and to it we both directed our course together. " Ha ! " 
 thought I, " he is floored at last," as I perceived that the 
 captain held his course rather more in hand, and suffered 
 me to lead. " Now, then, for it ! " So saying, I rode at the 
 largest part I could find, well knowing that Badger's powers 
 were here in their element. One spring, one plunge, and 
 away we were, galloping along at the other side. Not so 
 the captain ; his horse had refused the fence, and he was 
 now taking a circuit of the field for another trial of it. 
 
 " Pounded, by Jove ! " said I, as I turned round in my 
 saddle to observe him. Once more she came at it, and 
 once more balked, rearing up, at the same time, almost 
 so as to fall backward. 
 
 My triumph was complete ; and I again was about to 
 follow the hounds, when, throwing a look back, I saw 
 Hammersley clearing the wall in a most splendid manner, 
 and taking a stretch of at least thirteen feet beyond it. 
 Once more he was on my flanks, and the contest renewed. 
 Whatever might be the sentiments of the riders (mine I 
 confess to), between the horses it now became a tremendous 
 struggle. The English mare, though evidently superior in 
 stride and strength, was slightly overweighted, and had 
 not, besides, that cat-like activity an Irish horse possesses ; 
 so that the advantages and disadvantages on either side 
 were about equalized. For about half an hour now the 
 pace was awful. We rode side by side, taking our leaps 
 at exactly the same instant, and not four feet apart. The 
 hounds were still considerably in advance, and were heading 
 towards the Shannon, when suddenly the fox doubled, took 
 the hillside, and made for Dangan. "Now, then, comes the 
 trial of strength/' I said, half aloud, as I threw my eye up a
 
 THE HUNT. 27 
 
 steep and rugged mountain, covered with wild furze and tall 
 heath, around the crest of which ran, in a zigzag direction, 
 a broken and dilapidated wall, once the enclosure of a deer 
 park. This wall, which varied from four to six feet in 
 height, was of solid masonry, and would, in the most 
 favorable ground, have been a bold leap. Here, at the 
 summit of a mountain, with not a yard of footing, it was 
 absolutely desperation. 
 
 By the time that we reached the foot of the hill, the fox, 
 followed closely by the hounds, had passed through a breach 
 in the wall ; while Matthew Blake, with the huntsmen and 
 whipper-in, was riding along in search of a gap to lead the 
 horses through. Before I put spurs to Badger to face the 
 hill, I turned one look towards Hammersley. There was a 
 slight curl, half-smile, half-sneer, upon his lip that actually 
 maddened me, and had a precipice yawned beneath my feet, 
 I should have dashed at it after that. The ascent was so 
 steep that I was obliged to take the hill in a slanting direc- 
 tion ; and even thus, the loose footing rendered it dangerous 
 in the extreme. 
 
 At length I reached the crest, where the wall, more than 
 five feet in height, stood frowning above and seeming to 
 defy me. I turned my horse full round, so that his very 
 chest almost touched the stones, and with a bold cut of the 
 whip and a loud halloo, the gallant animal rose, as if rearing, 
 pawed for an instant to regain his balance, and then, with a 
 frightful struggle, fell backwards, and rolled from top to 
 bottom of the hill, carrying me along with him ; the last 
 object that crossed my sight, as I lay bruised and motion- 
 less, being the captain as he took the wall in a flying leap, 
 and disappeared at the other side. After a few scrambling 
 efforts to rise, Badger regained his legs and stood beside 
 me ; but such was the shock and concussion of my fall that 
 all the objects around seemed wavering and floating before 
 me, while showers of bright sparks fell in myriads before 
 my eyes. I tried to rise, but fell back helpless. Cold 
 perspiration broke over my forehead, and I fainted. From 
 that moment I can remember nothing, till I felt myself 
 galloping along at full speed upon a level table-land, with 
 the hounds about three fields in advance, Hammersley rid-
 
 28 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 ing foremost, and taking all his leaps coolly as ever. As I 
 swayed to either side upon my saddle, from weakness, I was 
 lost to all thought or recollection, save a flickering memory 
 of some plan of vengeance, which still urged me forward. 
 The chase had now lasted above an hour, and both hounds 
 and horses began to feel the pace at which they were going. 
 As for me, I rode mechanically ; I neither knew nor cared 
 for the dangers before me. My eye rested on but one 
 object ; my whole being was concentrated upon one vague 
 and undefined sense of revenge. At this instant the hunts- 
 man came alongside of me. 
 
 " Are you hurted, Misther Charles ? Did you fall ? 
 Your cheek is all blood, and your coat is torn in two ; and, 
 Mother o' God ! his boot is ground to powder ; he does not 
 hear me ! Oh, pull up ! pull up, for the love of the Virgin ! 
 There 's the clover-field and the sunk fence before you, and 
 you '11 be killed on the spot ! " 
 
 " Where ? " cried I, with the cry of a madman. " Where 's 
 the clover-field ; where 's the sunk fence ? Ha ! I see it ; I 
 see it now." 
 
 So saying, I dashed the rowels into my horse's flanks, 
 and in an instant was beyond the reach of the poor fellow's 
 remonstances. Another moment I was beside the captain. 
 He turned round as I came up ; the same smile was upon 
 his mouth ; I could have struck him. About three hun- 
 dred yards before us lay the sunk fence ; its breadth was 
 about twenty feet, and a wall of close brickwork formed its 
 face. Over this the hounds were now clambering ; some 
 succeeded in crossing, but by far the greater number fell 
 back, howling, into the ditch. 
 
 I turned towards Hammersley. He was standing high in 
 his stirrups, and as he looked towards the yawning fence, 
 down which the dogs were tumbling in masses, I thought 
 (perhaps it was but a thought) that his cheek was paler. 
 I looked again ; he was pulling at his horse. Ha ! it was 
 true then ; he Avould not face it. I turned round in my 
 saddle, looked him full in the face, and as I pointed with 
 my whip to the leap, called out in a voice hoarse with pas- 
 sion, " Come on ! " I saw no more. All objects were lost to 
 me from that moment. When next my senses cleared, I was
 
 THE HUXT. 29 
 
 standing amidst the dogs, where they had just killed. Badger 
 stood blown and trembling beside me, his head drooping and 
 his flanks gored with spur-marks. I looked about, but all 
 consciousness of the past had fled ; the concussion of my 
 fall had shaken my intellect, and I was like one but half- 
 awake. One glimpse, short and fleeting, of what was taking 
 place shot through my brain, as old Brackely whispered to 
 me, " By my soul, ye did for the captain there." I turned 
 a vague look upon him, and my eyes fell upon the figure of a 
 man that lay stretched and bleeding upon a door before me. 
 His pale face was crossed with a purple stream of blood 
 that trickled from a wound beside his eyebrow ; his arms 
 lay motionless and heavily at either side. I knew him not. 
 A loud report of a pistol aroused me from my stupor ; I 
 looked back. I saw a crowd that broke suddenly asunder 
 and fled right and left. I heard a heavy crash upon the 
 ground ; I pointed with my finger, for I could not utter a 
 word. 
 
 "It is the English mare, yer honor; she was a beauty 
 this morning, but she 's broke her shoulder-bone and both 
 her legs, and it was best to put her out of pain."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE DRAWING-ROOM. 
 
 On the fourtli day following the adventure detailed in 
 the last chapter, I made my appearance in the drawing- 
 room, my cheek well blanched by copious bleeding, and 
 my step tottering and uncertain. On entering the room, I 
 looked about in vain for some one who might give me an 
 insight into the occurrences of the four preceding days ; but 
 no one was to be met with. The ladies, I learned, were out 
 riding ; Matthew was buying a new setter, Mr. Blake was 
 canvassing, and Captain Hammersley was in bed. Where 
 was Miss Dash wood ? — in her room; and Sir George? — 
 he was with Mr. Blake. 
 
 "What ! Canvassing, too ? " 
 
 "Troth, that same was possible," was the intelligent 
 reply of the old butler, at which I could not help smiling. 
 I sat down, therefore, in the easiest chair I could find, and 
 unfolding the county paj^er, resoh^ed upon learning how 
 matters were going on in the political world. But some- 
 how, whether the editor was not brilliant or the fire Avas 
 hot or that my own dreams were pleasanter to indulge in 
 than his fancies, I fell sound asleep. 
 
 How differently is the mind attuned to the active, busy 
 world of thought and action when awakened from sleep by 
 any. sudden and rude summons to arise and be stirring, and 
 Avhen called into existence by the sweet and silvery notes 
 of softest music stealing over the senses, and while they 
 impart awakening thoughts of bliss and beauty, scarcely 
 dissipating the dreamy influence of slumber ! Such was my 
 first thought, as, with closed lids, the thrilling chords of a 
 harp broke upon my sleep and aroused me to a feeling of 
 unutterable pleasure. I turned gently round in my chair 
 and beheld Miss Dashwood. She was seated in a recess of 
 an old-fashioned window ; the pale yellow glow of a wintry
 
 THE DRAWING-ROOM. 31 
 
 sun at evening fell upon her beautiful hair, and tinged 
 it with such a light as I have often since then seen in 
 Eembrandt's pictures ; her head leaned upon the harp, and 
 as she struck its chords at random, I saw that her mind was 
 far away from all around her. As I looked, she suddenly 
 started from her leaning attitude, and parting back her 
 curls from her brow, she preluded a few chords, and then 
 sighed forth, rather than sang, that most beautiful of 
 Moore's melodies, — 
 
 " She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps." 
 
 Never before had such pathos, such deep utterance of feel- 
 ing, met my astonished sense ; I listened breathlessly as 
 the tears fell one by one down my cheek ; my bosom 
 heaved and fell ; and when she ceased, I hid my head 
 between my hands and sobbed aloud. In an instant, she 
 was beside me, and placing her hand upon my shoulder, 
 said, — 
 
 " Poor dear boy, I never suspected you of being there, or 
 I should not have sung that mournful air." 
 
 I started and looked up ; and from what I know not, but 
 she suddenly crimsoned to her very forehead, while she 
 added in a less assured tone, — 
 
 " I hope, Mr. O'Malley, that you are much better ; and I 
 trust there is no imprudence in your being here." 
 
 " For the latter, I shall not answer," said I, with a sickly 
 smile ; " but already I feel your music has done me service." 
 
 " Then let me sing more for you." 
 
 "If I am to have a choice, I should say. Sit down, and 
 let me hear you talk to me. My illness and the doctor 
 together have made wild work of my poor brain ; but if 
 you will talk to me — " 
 
 " Well, then, what shall it be about ? Shall I tell you a 
 fairy tale ? " 
 
 " I need it not ; I feel I am in one this instant." 
 
 " Well, then, what say you to a legend ; for I am rich 
 in my stores of them ? " 
 
 " The O'Malleys have their chronicles, wild and barbarous 
 enough without the aid of Thor and Woden."
 
 32 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " Tlien, shall we cliat of every-day matters ? Should you 
 like to hear how the election and the canvass go on ? " 
 
 " Yes ; of all things." 
 
 "Well, then, most favorably. Two baronies, with most 
 unspeakable names, have declared for us, and confidence is 
 rapidly increasing among our party. This I learned, by 
 chance, yesterday ; for papa never permits us to know 
 anything of these matters, — not even the names of the 
 candidates." 
 
 " Well, that was the very point I was coming to ; for the 
 government were about to send down some one just as I 
 left home, and I am most anxious to learn who it is." 
 
 " Then am I utterly valueless ; for I really can't say what 
 party the government espouses, and only know of our own." 
 
 " Quite enough for me that you wish it success," said I, 
 gallantly. " Perhaps you can tell me if my uncle has heard 
 of my accident ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; but somehow he has not been here himself, 
 but sent a friend, — a Mr. Considine, I think ; a very strange 
 person he seemed. He demanded to see papa, and it seems, 
 asked him if your misfortune had been a thing of his con- 
 trivance, and whether lie was ready to explain his conduct 
 about it ; and, in fact, I believe he is mad." 
 
 "Heaven confound him!" I muttered between my teeth. 
 
 " And then he wished to have an interview with Captain 
 Hammersley. However, he is too ill ; but as the doctor 
 hoped he might be down-stairs in a week, Mr. Considine 
 kindly hinted that he should Avait." 
 
 " Ohj then, do tell me how is the captain." 
 
 " Very much bruised, very much disfigured, they say," 
 said she, half smiling ; " but not so much hurt in body as 
 in mind." 
 
 " As how, may I ask ? " said I, with an appearance of 
 innocence. 
 
 " I don't exactly understand it ; but it would appear that 
 there was something like rivalry among you gentlemen 
 chasseurs on that luckless morning, and that while you 
 paid the penalty of a broken head, he was destined to lose 
 his horse and break his arm." 
 
 " I certainly am sorry, — most sincerely sorry for any
 
 THE DRAWING-ROOM. 33 
 
 share I might have had in the catastrophe ; and my greatest 
 regret, I confess, arises from the fact that I should cause 
 you unhappiness." 
 
 " Me ? Fray explain." 
 
 " Why, as Captain Hammersley — " 
 
 " Mr. O'Malley, you are too young now to make me sus- 
 pect you have an intention to offend; but I caution you, 
 never repeat this." 
 
 I saw that I had transgressed, but how, I most honestly 
 confess, I could not guess ; for though I certainly was the 
 senior of my fair companion in years, I was most lament- 
 ably her junior in tact and discretion. 
 
 The gray dusk of evening had long fallen as we con- 
 tinued to chat together beside the blazing wood embers, — 
 she evidently amusing herself with the original notions 
 of an untutored, unlettered boy, and I drinking deep those 
 draughts of love that nerved my heart through many a 
 breach and battlefield. 
 
 Our colloquy was at length interrupted by the entrance 
 of Sir George, who shook me most cordially by the hand, 
 and made the kindest inquiries about my health. 
 
 " They tell me you are to be a lawyer. Mr. O'Malley," 
 said he ; '' and if so, I must advise you to take better care of 
 your headpiece." 
 
 " A lawyer, Papa ; oh dear me ! I should never have 
 thought of his being anything so stupid." 
 
 " Why, silly girl, what would you have a man be ? " 
 
 " A dragoon, to be sure, Papa," said the fond girl, as she 
 pressed her arm around his manly figure, and looked up in 
 his face with an expression of mingled pride an i affection. 
 
 That word sealed my destiny. 
 
 VOL. 1. — 3
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 When I retired to my room to dress for dinner, I found 
 my servant waiting with a note from my uncle, to wliich, 
 he informed me, the messenger expected an answer. 
 
 I broke the seal and read : — 
 
 Dkar Charley, — Do not lose a moment in securing old Blake, 
 — if you have not already done so, — as information has just reached 
 me that the government party has promised a cornetcy to young 
 Matthew if he can bring over his father. And these are the people 
 I have been voting with — a few private cases excepted — for thirty 
 odd years ! 
 
 I am very sorry for your accident. Considine informs me that it 
 will need explanation at a later period. He has been in Athlone 
 since Tuesday, in hopes to catch the new candidate on his way down, 
 and get him into a little jsrivate quarrel before the day ; if he suc- 
 ceed, it will save the county much expense, and conduce greatly to 
 the peace and happiness of all parties. But " these things," as Father 
 Roach says, " are in the hands of Providence." You must also per- 
 suade old Blake to write a few lines to Simon ^lallock, about the 
 Coolnamuck mortgage. We can give him no satisfaction at present, 
 at least such as he looks for ; and don't be philandei'ing any longer 
 where you are, when your healtli permits a change of quarters. 
 Your aflectionate uncle, 
 
 Godfrey O'Malley. 
 
 P. S. I have just heard from Considine. He was out this morn- 
 ing and shot a fellow in the knee ; but finds that after all he was 
 not the candidate, but a tourist that v/as writing a book about 
 Connemara. 
 
 P. S. No. 2. Bear the mortgage in nund, for old Mallock is a 
 spiteful fellow, and has a grudge against me, since I horsewhipped 
 his son in Banagher. Oh, the world, the world ! G. O'M. 
 
 Until I read this very clear epistle to the end, I had no 
 very precise conception how completely I had forgotten all
 
 THE DESTNEE. 35 
 
 my uncle's interests, and neglected all his injunctions. 
 Already five days had elapsed, and I had not as much as 
 mooted the question to Mr. Blake, and probably all this 
 time my uncle was calculating on the thing as concluded ; 
 but, with one hole in my head and some half-dozen in my 
 heart, my memory Avas none of the best. 
 
 Snatching up the letter, therefore, I resolved to lose no 
 more time, and proceeded at once to Mr. Blake's room, 
 expecting that I should, as the event proved, find him 
 engaged in the very laborious duty of making his toilet. 
 
 
 " Come in, Charley," said he, as I tapped gently at the 
 door. " It 's only Charley, my darling. Mrs. B. won't 
 mind you." 
 
 " Not the least in life," responded Mrs. B., disposing at 
 the same time a pair of her husband's corduroys tippet 
 fashion across her ample shoulders, which before were dis- 
 played in the plenitude and breadth of coloring we find
 
 36 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 in a Eubens. " Sit down, Charley, and tell us what 's the 
 matter." 
 
 As until this moment I was in perfect ignorance of the 
 Adam-and-Eve-like simplicity in which the private econ- 
 omy of Mr. Blake's household was conducted, I would have 
 gladly retired from what I found to be a mutual terri- 
 tory^ of dressing-room had not Mr. Blake's injvinctions been 
 issued somewhat like an order to remain. 
 
 " It 's only a letter, sir," said I, stuttering, " from my 
 uncle about the election. He says that as his majorit}^ is 
 now certain, he should feel better pleased in going to the 
 poll with all the family, you know, sir, along with him. He 
 wishes me just to sound your intentions, — to make out 
 how you feel disposed towards him ; and — and, faith, as 
 I am but a poor diplomatist, I thought the best way was 
 to come straight to the point and tell you so." 
 
 " I perceive," said Mr. Blake, giving his chin at the mo- 
 ment an awful gash with the razor, — "I perceive ; go on." 
 
 "Well, sir, I have little more to say. My uncle knows 
 what influence you have in Scariff, and expects you '11 do 
 what you can there." 
 
 " Anything more ? " said Blake, with a very dry and quiz- 
 zical expression I did n't half like, — " anything more ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; you are to write a line to old Mallock." 
 
 " I understand ; about Coolnamuck, is n't it ? " 
 
 " Exactly ; I believe that 's all." 
 
 " Well, now, Charley, you may go down-stairs, and we '11 
 talk it over after dinner." 
 
 " Yes, Charley dear, go down, for I 'm going to draw on 
 my stockings," said the fair Mrs. Blake, with a look of very 
 modest consciousness. 
 
 When I had left the room I could n't help muttering a 
 " Thank God ! " for the success of a mission I more than 
 once feared for, and hastened to despatch a note to my 
 uncle, assuring him of the Blake interest, and adding that 
 for propriety's sake I should defer my departure for a day 
 or two longer. 
 
 This done, with a heart lightened of its load and in high 
 spirits at my cleverness, I descended to the drawing-room. 
 Here a very large party were already assembled, and at
 
 THE DINNER. 37 
 
 every opening of the door a new relay of Blakes, Burkes, 
 and Bodkins was introduced. In the absence of the host, 
 Sir George Dashwood was "making the agreeable" to the 
 guests, and shook hands with every new arrival with all 
 the warmth and cordiality of old friendship. While thus 
 he inquired for various absent individuals, and asked most 
 affectionately for sundry aunts and uncles not forthcoming, 
 a slight incident occurred which by its ludicrous turn served 
 to shorten the long half-hour before dinner. An individual 
 of the party, a Mr. Blake, had, from certain peculiarities of 
 face, obtained in his boyhood the sobriquet of " Shave-the- 
 wind." This hatchet-like conformation had grown with his 
 growth, and perpetuated upon him a nickname by which 
 alone was he ever spoken of among his friends and acquaint- 
 ances ; the only difference being that as he came to man's 
 estate, brevity, that soul of wit, had curtailed the epithet to 
 mere " Shave." Now, Sir George had been hearing frequent 
 reference made to him always by this name, heard him ever 
 so addressed, and perceived him to reply to it ; so that when 
 he was himself asked by some one what sport he had found 
 that day among the woodcocks, he answered at once, with 
 a bow of very grateful acknowledgment, " Excellent, indeed ; 
 but entirely owing to where I was placed in the copse. Had 
 it not been for Mr. Shave there — " 
 
 I need not say that the remainder of his speech, being 
 heard on all sides, became one universal shout of laughter, 
 in which, to do him justice, the excellent Shave himself 
 heartily joined. Scarcely were the sounds of mirth lulled 
 into an apparent calm, when the door opened and the host 
 and hostess appeared. Mrs. Blake advanced in all the plen- 
 itude of her charms, arrayed in crimson satin, sorely in- 
 jured in its freshness by a patch of grease upon the front 
 about the same size and shape as the continent of Europe 
 in Arrowsmith's Atlas. A swan's-down tippet covered her 
 shoulders ; massive bracelets ornamented her wrists ; while 
 from her ears descended two Irish diamond ear-rings, rival- 
 ling in magnitude and value the glass pendants of a lustre. 
 Her reception of her guests made ample amends, in warmth 
 and cordiality, for any deficiency of elegance ; and as she 
 disposed her ample proportions upon the sofa, and looked
 
 38 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 around upon tlie company, she appeared the very imper- 
 sonation of hospitality, 
 
 After several openings and shuttings of the drawing-room 
 door, accompanied by the appearance of old Simon the but- 
 ler, who counted the party at least five times before he was 
 certain that the score was correct, dinner was at length an- 
 nounced. Now came a moment of difficulty, and one which, 
 as testing Mr. Blake's tact, he would gladly have seen de- 
 volve upon some other shoulders ; for he well knew that 
 the marshalling a room full of mandarins, blue, green, and 
 yellow, was ''cakes and gingerbread" to ushering a Gal- 
 way party in to dinner. 
 
 First, then, was Mr. Miles Bodkin, whose grandfather 
 would have been a lord if Cromwell had not hanged him 
 one fine morning. Then Mrs. ]\Iosey Blake's first husband 
 was promised the title of Kilmaciid if it was ever restored; 
 whereas Mrs. French of Knocktumnor's mother was then 
 at law for a title. And lastly, Mrs. Joe Burke was fourth 
 cousin to Lord Clanricarde, as is or will be every Burke 
 from this to the day of judgment. Now, luckily for her 
 prospects, the lord was alive ; and Mr. Blake, remembering 
 a very sage adage about " dead lions," etc., solved the diffi- 
 culty at once by gracefully tucking the lady under his arm 
 and leading the way. The others soon followed, the priest 
 of Portumna and my unworthy self bringing up the rear. 
 
 AVhen, many a year afterwards, the hard ground of a 
 mountain bivouac, with its pitiful portion of pickled cork- 
 tree yclept mess-beef, and that pyroligneous aquafortis they 
 call corn-brandy have been my hard fare, I often looked 
 back to that day's dinner with a most heart-yearning sensa- 
 tion, — a turbot as big as the Waterloo shield, a sirloin 
 that seemed cut from the sides of a rhinoceros, a sauce-boali 
 that contained an oyster-bed. There was a turkey, which 
 singly would have formed the main army of a French din- 
 ner, doing mere outpost duty, flanked by a picket of ham 
 and a detached squadron of chickens carefully ambushed 
 in a forest of greens ; potatoes, not disguised a la ^nmtre 
 cChotel and tortured to resemble bad macaroni, but piled 
 like shot in an ordnance-yard, were posted at different 
 quarters ; while massive decanters of port and sherry stood
 
 THE DINNER. 39 
 
 proudly lap like standard bearers amidst the goodly array, 
 Tliis was none of your austere "great dinners," where a 
 cold and chilling plateau of artificial nonsense cuts off one- 
 half of the table from intercourse with the other ; when 
 whispered sentences constitute the conversation, and all 
 the friendly recognition of wine-drinking, which renews 
 acquaintance and cements an intimacy, is replaced by the 
 ceremonious filling of your glass by a lackey ; where smiles 
 go current in lieu of kind speeches, and epigram and smart- 
 ness form the substitute for the broad jest and merry story. 
 Far from it. Here the company ate, drank, talked, laughed, 
 
 — did all but sing, and certainly enjoyed themselves hear- 
 tily. As for me, I was little more than a listener ; and 
 such was the crash of plates, the jingle of glasses, and the 
 clatter of voices, that fragments only of what Avas passing 
 around reached me, giving to the conversation of the party 
 a character occasionally somewhat incongruous. Thus such 
 sentences as the following ran foul of each other every 
 instant : — 
 
 " Ko better land in Galway " — " where could you find 
 such facilities " — " for shooting Mr. Jones on his way 
 home " — " the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but 
 the truth " — " kiss " — '' jSIiss Blake, she 's the girl with 
 a foot and ankle" — "Daly has never had wool on his 
 sheep " — " how could he " — " what does he pay for the 
 mountain " — " four and tenpence a yard " — " not a penny 
 less " — " all the cabbage-stalks and potato-skins " — " with 
 some bog stuff through it " — " that 's the thing to " — 
 " make soup, with a red herring in it instead of salt " 
 
 — " and when he proposed for my niece, ma'am, says 
 he " — " mix a strong tumbler, and I'll make a shake- 
 down for you on the floor " — " and may the Lord have 
 mercy on your soul " — " and now, down the middle and 
 up again " — " Captain Magan, my dear, he is the man " — 
 " to shave a pig properly " — " it 's not money I 'm looking- 
 for, says he, the girl of my heart " — " if she had not a wind- 
 gall and two spavins " — "I 'd have given her the rights of 
 the church, of coorse," said Father Koach, bringing up the 
 rear of this ill-assorted jargon. 
 
 Such were the scattered links of conversation I was
 
 40 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 condemned to listen to, till a general rise on the part of 
 the ladies left us alone to discuss our wine and enter in 
 good earnest upon the more serious duties of the evening. 
 
 Scarcely was the door closed when one of the company, 
 seizing the bell-rope, said, " With your leave, Blake, we '11 
 have the ' dew ' now." 
 
 " Good claret, — no better," said another ; " but it sits 
 mighty cold on the stomach." 
 
 " There 's nothing like the groceries, after all, — eh, Sir 
 George ? " said an old Galway squire to the English gen- 
 eral, who acceded to the fact, which he understood in a very 
 different sense. 
 
 "Oh, punch, you are my darlin'," hummed another, as a 
 large, square, half-gallon decanter of whiskey was placed 
 on the table, the various decanters of wine being now igno- 
 miniously sent down to the end of the board without any 
 evidence of regret on any face save Sir George Dashwood's, 
 who mixed his tumbler with a very rebellious conscience. 
 
 Whatever were the noise and clamor of the company 
 before, they were nothing to what now ensued. As one 
 party were discussing the approaching contest, another 
 was planning a steeple-chase, while two individiials, unhap- 
 pily removed from each other the entire length of the table, 
 were what is called " challenging each other's effects " in a 
 very remarkable manner, — the process so styled being an 
 exchange of property, when each party, setting an imag- 
 inary value upon some article, barters it for another, the 
 amount of boot paid and received being determined by a 
 third person, who is the umpire. Thus a gold breast-pin 
 was swopped, as the phrase is, against a horse ; then a pair 
 of boots, then a Kerry bull, etc., — every imaginable species 
 of property coming into the market. Sometimes, as mat- 
 ters of very dubious value turned up, great laughter was 
 the result. In this very national pastime, a Mr. Miles 
 Bodkin, a noted fire-eater of the west, was a great pro- 
 ficient ; and it is said he once so completely succeeded in 
 despoiling an uninitiated hand, that after winning in suc- 
 cession his horse, gig, harness, etc., he proceeded seriatim 
 to his watch, ring, clothes, and portmanteau, and actually 
 concluded by winning all he possessed, and kindly lent him
 
 THE DIXNER. 41 
 
 a card-cloth to cover him on his way to the hotel. His 
 success on the present occasion Avas considerable, and his 
 spirits proportionate. The decanter had thrice been replen- 
 ished, and the flushed faces and thickened utterance of the 
 guests evinced that from the cold properties of the claret 
 there was but little to dread. As for Mr. Bodkin, his man- 
 ner was incapable of any higher flight, when \inder the 
 influence of whiskey, than what it evinced on common 
 occasions ; and as he sat at the end of the table fronting 
 Mr. Blake, he assumed all the dignity of the ruler of the 
 feast, with an energy no one seemed disposed to question. 
 In answer to some observations of Sir George, he was led 
 into something like an oration upon the peculiar excellences 
 of his native country, which ended in a declaration that 
 there was nothing like Galway. 
 
 " Why don't you give us a song, Miles ? And may be 
 the general would learn more from it than all your speech- 
 making." 
 
 " To be sure," cried the several voices together, — "to be 
 sure ; let us hear the ' Man for Galway ' ! " 
 
 Sir George having joined most warmly in the request, 
 Mr. Bodkin filled up his glass to the brim, bespoke a chorus 
 to his chant, and clearing his voice with a deep hem, began 
 the following ditty, to the air which Moore has since ren- 
 dered immortal by the beautiful song, " Wreath the BoavI," 
 etc. And, although the words are well known in the 
 west, for the information of less-favored regions, I here 
 transcribe — 
 
 THE MAN FOR GALWAY. 
 
 To drink a toast, 
 A proctor roast, 
 
 Or bailiff as the case is ; 
 To kiss your wife, 
 Or take your life 
 
 At ten or fifteen paces ; 
 To keep game-cocks, to hunt the fox, 
 
 To drink in punch the Solway, , 
 
 With debts galore, but fun far more, — 
 
 Oh, that 's " the man for Galway." 
 
 Chorus : With debts, etc.
 
 42 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 The King of Oude 
 Is mighty proud, 
 
 And so were onst the Caysars ; 
 But ould Giles Eyre 
 Would make them stare, 
 
 Av he had them with the Blazers. 
 To the devil I fling — ould Runjeet Sing, 
 
 He 's only a prince in a small way. 
 And knows nothing at all of a six-foot wall ; 
 
 Oh, he 'd never " do for Gal way." 
 
 Chorus : With debts, etc. 
 
 Ye think the Blakes 
 Are no " great shakes ;" 
 
 They 're all his blood relations. 
 And the Bodkins sneeze 
 At the grim Chinese, 
 
 For they come from the Phenaycians. 
 So fill the brim, and here 's to him 
 
 Who 'd drink in punch the Solway, 
 With debts galore, but fun far more, — 
 
 Oh, that 's " the man for Galway." 
 
 Chorus : With debts, etc. 
 
 I much fear that the reception of this very classic ode 
 would not be as favorable in general companies as it was 
 on the occasion I first heard it ; for certainly the applause 
 was almost deafening, and even Sir George, the defects of 
 whose English education left some of the allusions out 
 of his reach, was highly amused, and laughed heartily. 
 
 The conversation once more reverted to the election ; and 
 although I was too far from those who seemed best informed 
 on the matter to hear much, I could catch enough to discover 
 that the feeling Avas a confident one. This was gratifying 
 to me, as I had some scruples about my so long neglecting 
 my uncle's cause. 
 
 " We have Scariff to a man," said Bodkin. 
 
 "And Mosey 's tenantry," said another. " I swear, though 
 there 's not a freehold registered on the estate, that they '11 
 vote, every mother's son of them, or devil a stone of the 
 court-house they '11 leave standing on another." 
 
 " And may the Lord look to the returning officer ! " said 
 a third, throwing up his eyes.
 
 THE DINNER. 43 
 
 « Mosey's tenantry are droll boys ; and like their landlord, 
 more by token, they never pay any rent." 
 
 " And what for should n't they vote ? " said a dry-looking 
 little old fellow in a red waistcoat ; " when I was the dead 
 agent — " 
 
 " The dead agent ! " interrupted Sir George, with a start. 
 
 " Just so," said the old fellow, pulling down his spectacles 
 h-om his forehead, and casting a half-angry look at Sir 
 George, for what he had suspected to be a doubt of his 
 veracity. 
 
 <' The general does not know, may be, what that is," said 
 some one. 
 
 " You have just anticipated me," said Sir George ; " I 
 really am in most profound ignorance." 
 
 "It is the dead agent," says Mr. Blake, "who always 
 provides substitutes for any voters that may have died 
 since the last election. A very important fact in statistics 
 may thus be gathered from the poll-books of this county, 
 which proves it to be the healthiest part of Europe, — a 
 freeholder has not died in it for the last fifty years." 
 
 " The ' Kiltopher boys ' won't come this time ; they say 
 there 's no use trying to vote when so many were transported 
 last assizes for perjury." 
 
 " They 're poor-spirited creatures," said another. 
 
 " Not they, — they are as decent boys as any we have ; 
 they 're willing to wreck the town for fifty shillings' worth 
 of spirits. Besides, if they don't vote for the county, they 
 will for the borough." 
 
 This declaration seemed to restore these interesting indi- 
 viduals to favor ; and now all attention was turned towards 
 Bodkin, who was detailing the plan of a grand attack upon 
 the polling-booths, to be headed by himself. By this time, 
 all the prudence and guardedness of the party had given way ; 
 whiskey was in the ascendant, and every bold stroke of elec- 
 tion policy, every cunning artifice, every ingenious device, 
 was detailed and applauded in a manner which proved that 
 self-respect was not the inevitable gift of "mountain dew." 
 
 The mirth and fun grew momentarily more boisterous, 
 and ^liles Bodkin, who had twice before been prevented 
 proposing some toast by a telegraphic signal from the other
 
 44 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 end of the table, now swore that nothing should prevent 
 him any longer, and rising with a smoking tumbler in his 
 hand, delivered himself as follows : — 
 
 " No, no, Phil Blake, ye need n't be winkin' at me that 
 way ; it 's little I care for the spawn of the ould serpent. 
 [Here great cheers greeted the speaker, in which, without 
 well knowing why, I heartily joined.] I 'm going to give a 
 toast, boys, — a real good toast, none of your sentimental 
 things about wall-flowers or the vernal equinox, or that kind 
 of thing, but a sensible, patriotic, manly, intrepid toast, — 
 a toast you must drink in the most universal, laborious, 
 and awful manner : do ye see now ? [Loud cheers.] If 
 any man of you here present does n't drain this toast to 
 the bottom [here the speaker looked fixedly at me, as 
 did the rest of the company] — then, by the great gun 
 of Athlone, I '11 make him eat the decanter, glass-stopper 
 and all, for the good of his digestion : d'ye see now ? " 
 
 The cheering at this mild determination prevented my 
 hearing what followed ; but the peroration consisted in a 
 very glowing eulogy upon some person unknown, and 
 a speedy return to him as member for Galway. Amidst 
 all the noise and tumult at this critical moment, nearly 
 every eye at the table was turned upon me ; and as I con- 
 cluded that they had been drinking my uncle's health, I 
 thundered away at the mahogany with all my energy. At 
 length the hip-hipping over, and comparative quiet restored, 
 I rose from my seat to return thanks ; but, strange enough. 
 Sir George Dashwood did so likewise. And there we both 
 stood, amidst an uproar that might well have shaken the 
 courage of more practised orators ; while from every side 
 came cries of "Hear, hear!" — "Go on, Sir George!" — 
 " Speak out, General ! " — " Sit down, Charley ! " — '" Con- 
 found the boy ! " — " Knock the legs from under him ! " etc. 
 Not understanding why Sir George should interfere with 
 what I regarded as my peculiar duty, I resolved not to give 
 way, and avowed this determination in no very equivocal 
 terms. " In that case," said the general, " I am to suppose 
 tliat the young gentleman moves an amendment to your 
 proposition ; and as the etiquette is in his favor, I yield." 
 Here he resumed his place amidst a most terrific scene of
 
 THE DIXXER. 45 
 
 noise and tumult, while several humane proposals as to my 
 treatment were made around me, and a kind suggestion 
 thrown out to break my neck by a near neighbor. Mr. 
 Blake at length prevailed upon the party to hear what I 
 had to say, — for he was certain I should not detain them 
 above a minute. The commotion having in some measure 
 subsided, I began : " Gentlemen, as the adopted son of the 
 worthy man whose health you have just drunk — " Heaven 
 knows how I should have continued ; but here my eloquence 
 was met by such a roar of laughing as I never before listened 
 to. From one end of the board to the other it was one con- 
 tinued shout, and went on, too, as if all the spare lungs of 
 the party had been kept in reserve for the occasion. I 
 turned from one to the other ; I tried to smile, and seemed 
 to participate in the joke, but failed ; I frowned ; I looked 
 savagely about where I could see enough to turn my wrath 
 thitherward, — and, as it chanced, not in vain ; for Mr. Miles 
 Bodkin, with an intuitive perception of my wishes, most 
 suddenly ceased his mirth, and assuming a look of froAvning 
 defiance that had done him good service upon many former 
 occasions, rose and said : — 
 
 " Well, sir, I hope you 're proud of yourself. You 've 
 made a nice beginning of it, and a pretty story you '11 have 
 for your uncle. But if you 'd like to break the news by 
 a letter the general will have great pleasure in franking it 
 for you ; for, by the rock -of Cashel, we '11 carry him in 
 against all the O'Malley's that ever cheated the sheriff." 
 
 Scarcely were the words uttered, when I seized my wine- 
 glass, and hurled it with all my force at his head; so 
 sudden was the act, and so true the aim, that Mr. Bodkin 
 measured his length upon the floor ere his friends could 
 appreciate his late eloquent effusion. The scene now be- 
 came terrific ; for though the redoubted Miles was hors-de- 
 combat, his friends made a tremendous rush at, and would 
 infallibly have succeeded in capturing me, had not Blake and 
 four or five others interposed. Amidst a desperate struggle, 
 which lasted for some minutes, I was torn from the spot, 
 carried bodily up-stairs, and pitched headlong into my own 
 room ; where, having doubly locked the door on the outside, 
 they left me to my own cool and not over-agreeable reflections.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM GURT-NA-MORRA. 
 
 It was by one of those sudden and inexplicable revul- 
 sions which occasionally restore to sense and intellect the 
 maniac of years standing, that I was no sooner left alone 
 in my chamber than I became perfectly sober. The fumes 
 of the wine — and I had drunk deeply — were dissipated at 
 once ; my head, which but a moment before was half wild 
 with excitement, was now cool, calm, and collected ; and 
 stranger than all, I, Avho had only an hour since entered 
 the dining-room with all the unsuspecting freshness of boy- 
 hood, became, by a mighty bound, a man, — a man in all 
 my feelings of responsibility, a man who, repelling an in- 
 sult by an outrage, had resolved to stake his life upon the 
 chance. In an instant a new era in life had opened before 
 me ; the light-headed gayety which fearlessness and youth 
 impart was replaced by one absorbing thought, -^ one all- 
 engrossing, all-pervading impression, that if I did not 
 follow up my quarrel with Bodkin, I was dishonored and 
 disgraced, my little knowledge of such matters not being 
 sufficient to assure me that I was now the aggressor, and 
 that any further steps in the affair should come from his 
 side. 
 
 So thoroughly did my own griefs occupy me, that I had 
 no thought for the disappointment my poor uncle was des- 
 tined to meet with in hearing that the Blake interest was 
 lost to him, and the former breach between the families 
 irreparably widened by the events of the evening. Escape 
 was my lirst thought ; but how to accomplish it ? The 
 door, a solid one of Irish oak, doubly locked and bolted, 
 defied all my eiforts to break it open ; the window was at 
 least five-and-twenty feet from the ground, and not a tree 
 near to swing into. I shouted, I called aloud, I opened the 
 sash, and tried if any one outside were within hearing ; but
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM GURT-NA-MORRA. 47 
 
 in vain. Weary and exhausted, I sat down upon my bed 
 and ruminated over my fortunes. Vengeance — quick, en- 
 tire, decisive vengeance — I thirsted and panted for ; and 
 every moment I lived under the insult inflicted on me 
 seemed an age of torturing and maddening agony. 1 rose 
 "with a leap ; a thought had just occurred to me. I drew 
 the bed towards the window, and fastening the sheet to one 
 of the posts with a firm knot, I twisted it into a rope, and 
 let myself dowu to within about twelve feet of the ground, 
 when I let go my hold, and dropped upon the grass be- 
 neath safe and uninjured. A thin, misty rain was falling, 
 and I now perceived, for the first time, that in my haste I 
 had forgotten my hat ; this thought, however, gave me little 
 uneasiness, and I took my way towards the stable, resolv- 
 ing, if I could, to saddle my horse and get off before any 
 intimation of my escape reached the family. 
 
 When I gained the yard, all was quiet and deserted ; the 
 servants were doubtless enjoying themselves beloAV stairs, 
 and 1 met no one on the Avay. I entered the stable, 
 threw the saddle upon " Badger," and before five minutes 
 from my descent from the window, was galloping towards 
 O'Malley Castle at a pace that defied pursuit, had any one 
 thought of it. 
 
 It was about five o'clock on a dark, wintry morning as I 
 led my horse through the well-known defiles of out-houses 
 and stables which formed the long line of offices to my 
 uncle's house. As yet no one was stirring ; and as I wished 
 to have my arrival a secret from the family, after providing 
 for the wants of my gallant gray, I lifted the latch of the 
 kitchen-door — no other fastening being ever thought neces- 
 sary, even at night — and gently groped my way towards 
 the stairs ; all was perfectly still, and the silence now re- 
 called me to reflection as to what course I should pursue. 
 It was all-important that my uncle should know nothing of 
 my quarrel, otherwise he would inevitably make it his own, 
 and by treating me like a boy in the matter, give the whole 
 affair the very turn I most dreaded. Then, as to Sir Harry 
 Boyle, he would most certainly turn the whole thing into 
 ridicule, make a good story, perhaps a song out of it, and 
 laugh at my notions of demanding satisfaction. Considine,
 
 48 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 I knew, was my man ; but then he was at Athlone, — at 
 least so my uncle's letter mentioned. Perhaps he might 
 have returned ; if not, to Athlone I should set off at once. 
 So resolving, I stole noiselessly up-stairs, and reached the 
 door of the count's chamber ; I opened it gently and en- 
 tered ; and though my step was almost imperceptible to 
 myself, it was quite sufficient to alarm the watchful occu- 
 pant of the room, who, springing up in his bed, demanded 
 gruffly, '' Who 's there ? " 
 
 ''Charles, sir," said I, shutting the door carefully, and 
 approaching his bedside. " Charles O'Malley, sir. I 'm 
 come to have a bit of your advice ; and as the affair won't 
 keep, I have been obliged to disturb you." 
 
 " Never mind, Charley," said the count ; " sit down, 
 there 's a chair somewhere near the bed, — have you 
 found it ? There ! Well now, what is it ? What news 
 of Blake ? " 
 
 "Very bad; no worse. But it is not exactly that I came 
 about ; I 've got into a scraj^e, sir." 
 
 " Eun off with one of the daughters," said Considine. 
 "By jingo, I knew what those artful devils would be 
 after." 
 
 " Not so bad as that," said I, laughing. " It 's just a row, 
 a kind of squabble ; something tliat must come — " 
 
 " Ay, ay," said the count, brightening up ; " say you so, 
 Charley ? Begad, the young ones will beat us all out of 
 the field. Who is it with, — not old Blake himself; how 
 was it ? Tell me all." 
 
 I immediately detailed the whole events of the preceding 
 chapter, as well as his frequent interruptions would permit, 
 and concluded by asking what farther step was now to be 
 taken, as I was resolved the matter should be concluded 
 before it came to my uncle's ears. 
 
 "There you are all right; quite correct, my boy. But 
 there are many points I should have wished otherwise in 
 the conduct of the affair hitherto." 
 
 Conceiving that he was displeased at my petulance and 
 boldness, I was about to commence a kind of defence, when 
 he added, — 
 
 " Because, you see," said he, assuming an oracular tone
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM GURT-NA-MORRA. 49 
 
 of voice, " tlirowing a wine-glass, with or without wine, in 
 a man's face is merely, as you may observe, a mark of 
 denial and displeasiire at some observation he may have 
 made, — not in anywise intended to injure him, further than 
 in the wound to his honor at being so insulted, for which, 
 of course, he must subsequently call you out. Whereas, 
 Charley, in the present case, the view I take is different ; 
 the expression of Mr. Bodkin, as regards your uncle, was 
 insulting to a degree, — gratuitously offensive, — and war- 
 ranting a blow. Therefore, my boy, you should, under such 
 circumstances, have preferred aiming at him with a decan- 
 ter : a cut-glass decanter, well aimed and low, I have seen 
 do effective service. However, as you remark it was your 
 first thing of the kind, I am pleased with you — very much 
 pleased with you. Now, then, for the next step." So say- 
 ing, he arose from his bed, and striking a light with a tin* 
 der-box, proceeded to dress himself as leisurely as if for a 
 dinner party, talking all the while. 
 
 " I will just take Godfrey's tax -cart and the roan mare 
 on to Meelish, pvit them up at the little inn, — it is not 
 above a mile from Bodkin's ; and I '11 go over and settle 
 the thing for you. You must stay quiet till I come back, 
 and not leave the house on any account. I 've got a case 
 of old broad barrels there that will answer you beautifully ; 
 if you were anything of a shot, I 'd give you my own cross 
 handles, but they 'd only spoil your shooting." 
 
 " I can hit a wine-glass in the stem at fifteen paces," 
 said I, rather nettled at the disparaging tone in which he 
 spoke of my performance, 
 
 " I don't care sixpence for that ; the wine-glass had nr> 
 pistol in his hand. Take the old German, then ; see now, 
 hold your pistol thus, — no finger on the guard there, these 
 two on the trigger. They are not hair-triggers ; drop the 
 muzzle a bit ; bend your elbow a trifle more ; sight your 
 man outside your arm, — outside, mind, — and take him in 
 the hip, and if anywhere higher, no matter." 
 
 By this time the count had completed his toilet, and 
 taking the small mahogony box which contained his peace- 
 makers under his arm, led the way towards the stables. 
 When we reached the yard, the only person stirring there
 
 50 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 was a kind of half-witted boy, who, being about the house, 
 was employed to run of messages from the servants, walk 
 a stranger's horse, or to do any of the many petty services 
 that regular domestics contrive always to devolve upon 
 some adopted subordinate. He was seated upon a stone 
 step formerly used for mounting, and though the day was 
 scarcely breaking, and the weather severe and piercing, 
 the poor fellow was singing an Irish song, in a low mo- 
 notonous tone, as he chafed a curb chain between his hands 
 with some sand. As we came near he started up, and as 
 he pulled off his cap to salute us, gave a sharp and piercing 
 glance at the count, then at me, then once more upon my 
 companion, from whom his eyes were turned to the brass- 
 bound box beneath his arm, — when, as if seized with a 
 sudden impulse, he started on his feet, and set off towards 
 the house with the speed of a greyhound, not, however, 
 before Considine's practised eye had anticipated his plan ; 
 for throwing down the pistol-case, he dashed after him, 
 and in an instant had seized him by the collar. 
 
 " It won't do, Patsey," said the count ; " you can't double 
 on me." 
 
 *' Oh, Count, darlin', Mister Considine avick, don't do it, 
 don't now," said the poor fellow, falling on his knees, and 
 blubbering like an infant. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, j^ou villain, or I '11 cut it out of your 
 head," said Considine. 
 
 "And so I will; but don't do it, don't for the love of — " 
 
 " Don't do what, you whimpering scoundrel ? What does 
 he think I '11 do ? " 
 
 " Don't I know very well what you 're after, what you 're 
 always after too ? Oh, wirra, wirra ! " Here he wrung his 
 hands, and swayed himself backwards and forwards, a true 
 picture of Irish grief. 
 
 " I '11 stop his blubbering," said Considine, opening the 
 box and taking out a pistol, which he cocked leisurely, 
 and pointed at the poor fellow's head; "another syllable 
 now, and I '11 scatter your brains upon that pavement." 
 
 " And do, and divil thank you ; sure, it 's your trade." 
 
 The coolness of the reply threw us both off our guard so 
 completely that we burst out into a hearty fit of laughing.
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM GURT-NA-MORRA. 51 
 
 "Come, come," said the count, at last, "this will never 
 do; if he goes on this way, we'll have the whole house 
 about us. Come, then, harness the roan mare ; and here 's 
 half a crown for you." 
 
 "I wouldn't touch the best piece in your purse," said 
 the poor boy ; " sure it 's blood-money, no less." 
 
 The words were scarcely spoken, when Considine seized 
 him by the collar with one hand, and by the wrist with the 
 other, and carried him over the yard to the stable, where, 
 kicking open the door, he threw him on a heap of stones, 
 adding, " If you stir now, I '11 break every bone in your 
 body ; " a threat that seemed certainly considerably in- 
 creased in its terrors, from the rough gripe he had already 
 experienced, for the lad rolled himself up like a ball, and 
 sobbed as if his heart were breaking. 
 
 Very feAV minutes sufficed us now to harness the mare in 
 the tax-cart, and when all was ready, Considine seized the 
 whip, and locking the stable-door upon Patsey, was about 
 to get up, when a sudden thought struck him. " Charley," 
 said he, "that fellow will find some means to give the 
 alarm ; we must take him with us." So saying, he opened 
 the door, and taking the poor fellow by the collar, flung 
 him at my feet in the tax-cart. 
 
 We had already lost some time, and the roan mare was 
 put to her fastest speed to make up for it. Our pace be- 
 came, accordingly, a sharp one ; and as the road was bad, 
 and the tax-cart no " patent inaudible," neither of us spoke. 
 To me this was a great relief. The events of the last few 
 days had given them the semblance of years, and all the 
 reflection I could muster was little enough to make any- 
 thing out of the chaotic mass, — love, mischief, and misfor- 
 tune, — in which I had been involved since my leaving 
 O'Malley Castle. 
 
 " Here we are, Charley," said Considine, drawing up 
 short at the door of a little country ale-house, or, in Irish 
 parlance, shebeen, which stood at the meeting of four bleak 
 roads, in a wild and barren moimtain tract beside the 
 Shannon. " Here we are, my boy ! Jump out and let us be 
 stirring. 
 
 " Here, Patsey, my man," said the count, unravelling the
 
 52 ■ CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 prostrate and doubly knotted figure at oar feet; ''lend a 
 hand, Patsey." Much to my astonishment, he obeyed the 
 summons with alacrity, and proceeded to unharness the 
 mare with tlie greatest despatch. My attention was, liow- 
 ever, soon turned from him to my own more immediate 
 concerns, and I followed my companion into the house. 
 
 "Joe," said the count to the host, "is Mr. Bodkin up at 
 the house this morning ? " 
 
 " He 's just passed this way, sir, with Mr. Malowney of 
 Tillnamuck, in the gig, on their way from Mr. Blake's. 
 They stopped here to order horses to go over to O'Malley 
 Castle, and the gossoon is gone to look for a pair." 
 
 "All right," said Considine, and added, in a whisper, 
 "we 've done it well, Charley, to be beforehand, or the gov- 
 ernor would have found it all out and taken the affair into 
 his own hands. Now all you have to do is to stay quietly 
 here till I come back, which will not be above an hour at 
 farthest. Joe, send me the pony ; keep an eye on Patsey, 
 that he does n't play us a trick. The short way to Mr. 
 Bodkin^s is through Scariff. Ay, I know it well ; good-by, 
 Charley. By the Lord, we '11 pepper him ! " 
 
 These were the last words of the worthy count as he 
 closed the door behind him, and left me to my own not 
 very agreeable reflections. Independently of my youth and 
 perfect ignorance of the world, which left me unable to 
 form any correct judgment on my conduct, I knew that I 
 had taken a great deal of wine, and was highly excited 
 when my unhappy collision with Mr. Bodkin occurred. 
 Whether, then, I had been betrayed into anything which 
 could fairly have provoked his insulting retort or not, I 
 could not remember ; and now my most afflicting thought 
 was, what opinion might be entertained of me by those at 
 Blake's table ; and above all, what Miss Dashwood herself 
 would think, and what narrative of the occurrence would 
 reach her. The great effort of my last few days had been 
 to stand well in her estimation, to appear something better 
 in feeling, something higher in principle, than the rude and 
 unpolished squirearchy about me ; and now here was the 
 end of it ! What would she, what could she, think, but 
 that I was the same punch-drinking, rowing, quarrelling
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM GURT-NA-MORRA. 53 
 
 bumpkin as those whom I had so lately been carefully en- 
 deavoring to separate myself from ? How I hated myself 
 for the excess to which passion had betrayed me, and how 
 I detested my opponent as the cause of all my present 
 misery. " How very differently," thought I, '' her friend 
 the captain would have conducted himself. His quiet and 
 gentlemanly manner wovdd have done fully as much to 
 wipe out any insult on his honor as I could do, and after 
 all, would neither have disturbed the harmony of a dinner- 
 table, nor made himself, as I shuddered to think I had, a 
 subject of rebuke, if not of ridicule." These harassing, 
 torturing reflections continued to press on me, and I paced 
 the room with my hands clasped and the perspiration upon 
 my brow. " One thing is certain, — I can never see her 
 again," thought I ; " this disgraceful business must, in 
 some shape or other, become known to her, and all I have 
 been saying these last three days rise up in judgment 
 against this one act, and stamp me an impostor ! I that 
 decried — nay, derided — our false notion of honor. Would 
 that Considine were come ! What can keep him now ? " 
 I walked to the door ; a boy belonging to the house was 
 walking the roan before the door. " What had, then, become 
 of Pat ? " I inquired ; but no one could tell. He had dis- 
 appeared shortly after our arrival, and had not been seen 
 afterwards. My own thoughts were, hoAvever, too engross- 
 ing to permit me to think more of this circumstance, and 
 I turned again to enter the house, when I saw Considine 
 advancing up the road at the full speed of his pony. 
 
 "Out with the mare, Charley! Be alive, my boy! — all's 
 settled." So saying, he sprang from the pony and pro- 
 ceeded to harness the roan with the greatest haste, in- 
 forming me in broken sentences, as he went on with all the 
 arrangements. 
 
 " We are to cross the bridge of Portumna. They won the 
 ground, and it seems Bodkin likes the spot ; he shot Peyton 
 there three years ago. Worse luck now, Charley, you 
 know ; by all the rule of chance, he can't expect the same 
 thing twice, — never four by honors in two deals. Did n't 
 say that, though. A sweet meadow, I know it well ; small 
 hillocks, like molehills, all over it. Caught him at break-
 
 54 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 fast ; I don't tliink lie expected the message to come from 
 us, but said it was a very polite attention, — and so it was, 
 you know." 
 
 So he continued to ramble on as we once more took our 
 seats in the tax-cart and set out for the ground. 
 
 " What are you thinking of, Charley ? " said the count, 
 as I kept silent for some minutes. 
 
 " I 'm thinking, sir, if I. were to kill him, what I must do 
 after." 
 
 " Eight, my boy ; nothing like that, but I '11 settle all 
 for you. Upon my conscience, if it was n't for the chance 
 of his getting into a,nother quarrel and spoiling the elec- 
 tion, I 'd go back for Godfrey ; he 'd like to see you break 
 ground so prettily. And you say you 're no shot ? " 
 
 "Never could do anything with the pistol to speak of, 
 sir," said I, remembering his rebuke of the morning. 
 
 " I don't mind that. You 've a good eye ; never take it off 
 him after you 're on the ground, — follow him everywhere. 
 Poor Callaghan, that 's gone, shot his man always that way. 
 He had a way of looking without winking that was very 
 fatal at a short distance ; a very good thing to learn, 
 Charley, when you have a little spare time." 
 
 Half-an-hour's sharp driving brought us to the river side, 
 where a boat had been provided by Considine to ferry us 
 over. It was now about eight o'clock, and a heavy, gloomy 
 morning. Much rain had fallen overnight, and the dark 
 and lowering atmosphere seemed charged with more. The 
 mountains looked twice their real size, and all the shadows 
 were increased to an enormous extent. A very killing kind 
 of light it was, as the count remarked.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 As the boatmen pulled in towards the shore we per- 
 ceived, a few hundred yards off, a group of persons standing, 
 whom we soon recognized as our opponents. '' Charley," said 
 the count, grasping my arm tightly, as I stood up to spring 
 on the land, — " Charley, although you are only a boy, as I 
 may say, I have no fear for your courage ; but still more 
 than that is needful here. This Bodkin is a noted duellist, 
 and will try to shake your nerve. Now, mind that you take 
 everything that happens quite with an air of indifference ; 
 don't let him think that he has any advantage over you, 
 and you ^11 see how the tables will be turned in your 
 favor." 
 
 "Trust to me. Count" said I ; "I'll not disgrace you." 
 
 He pressed my hand tightly, and I thought that I dis- 
 cerned something like a slight twitch about the corners of 
 his grim mouth, as if some sudden and painful thought had 
 shot across his mind ; but in a moment he was calm, and 
 stern-looking as ever. 
 
 " Twenty minutes late, Mr. Considine," said a short, red- 
 faced little man, with a military frock and foraging cap, as 
 he held out his watch in evidence. 
 
 "I can only say, Captain Malowney, that we lost no 
 time since we parted. We had some difficulty in finding 
 a boat ; but in any case, we are here now, and that, I opine, 
 is the important part of the matter." 
 
 "Quite right, — very just indeed. Will you present me 
 to your young friend. Very proud to make your acquain- 
 tance, sir; your uncle and I met more than once in this 
 kind of way. I was out with him in '92, — was it ? no, I 
 think it was '93, — when he shot Harry Burgoyne, who, 
 by-the-bye, was called the crack shot of our mess ; but, 
 begad, your uncle knocked his pistol hand to shivers,
 
 56 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 saying, in his dry way, 'He must try the left hand this 
 morning.' Count, a little this side, if you please." 
 
 While Considine and the captain walked a few paces 
 apart from where I stood, I had leisure to observe my 
 antagonist, who stood among a group of his friends, talk- 
 ing and laughing away in great spirits. As the tone they 
 spoke in was not of the lowest, I could catch much of their 
 conversation at the distance I was from them. They were 
 discussing the last occasion that Bodkin had visited this 
 spot, and talking of the fatal event Avhich happened then. 
 
 " Poor devil," said Bodkin, " it was n't his fault ; but 
 you see some of the — th had been showing white feathers 
 before that, and he was obliged to go out. In fact, the 
 colonel himself said, ' Fight, or leave the corps.' Well, out 
 he came ; it was a cold morning in February, with a frost 
 the night before going off in a thin rain. Well, it seems he 
 had the consumption or something of that sort, with a 
 great cough and spitting of blood, and this weather made 
 him worse; and he was very weak when he came to the 
 ground. Now, the moment I got a glimpse of him, I said 
 to myself, ' He 's pluck enough, but as nervous as a lady ; ' 
 for his eye wandered all about, and his mouth was con- 
 stantly twitching. ' Take off your great-coat, Ned,' said 
 one of his people, when they were going to put him up ; 
 * take it off, man.' He seemed to hesitate for an instant, 
 when Michael Blake remarked, ' Arrah, let him alone ; 
 it 's his mother makes him wear it, for the cold he has.' 
 They all began to laugh at this ; but I kept my eye upon 
 him, and I saw that his cheek grew quite livid and a 
 kind of gray color, and his eyes iilled up. 'I have you 
 now,' said I to myself, and I shot him through the lung." 
 
 " And this poor felloAv," thouglit I, " was the only son of 
 a widowed mother." I walked from the spot to avoid hear- 
 ing further, and felt, as I did so, something like a spirit of 
 vengeance rising within me, for the fate of one so untimely 
 cut off. 
 
 " Here we are, all ready," said Malowney, springing over 
 a small fence into the adjoining iield. " Take your ground, 
 gentlemen." 
 
 Considine took my arm and walked forward. " Charley,"
 
 THE DUEL. 57 
 
 said he, " I am to give the signal ; I '11 drop my glove Avhen 
 you are to fire, but don't look at me at all. I '11 manage to 
 catch Bodkin's eye ; and do you watch him steadily, and fire 
 when he does." 
 
 " I think that the ground we are leaving behind us is 
 rather better," said some one. 
 
 " So it is," said Bodkin ; " but it jnight be troublesome to 
 carry the young gentleman down that way, — here all is fair 
 and easy." 
 
 The next instant we were placed ; and I well remember 
 the first thought that struck me was, that there could be 
 no chance of either of ns escaping. 
 
 " jSTow then," said the count, " I '11 walk twelve paces, turn 
 and drop this glove ; at which signal you fire, and together 
 mind. The man who reserves his shot falls by my hand." 
 This very summary denunciation seemed to meet general 
 approbation, and the count strutted forth. Notwithstand- 
 ing the advice of my friend, I could not help turning my 
 eyes from Bodkin to watch the retiring figure of the count. 
 At length he stopped ; a second or two elapsed ; he 
 wheeled rapidly round, and let fall the glove. My eye 
 glanced towards my opponent ; I raised my pistol and fired. 
 My hat turned half round upon my head, and Bodkin fell 
 motionless to the earth. I saw the people around me rush 
 forward ; I caught two or three glances thrown at me with 
 an expression of revengeful passion ; I felt some one grasp 
 me round the waist, and hurry me from the spot ; and it was 
 at least ten minutes after, as we were skimming the sur- 
 face of the broad Shamion, before I could well collect my 
 scattered faculties to remember all that was passing, as 
 Considine, pointing to the two bullet-holes in my hat, re- 
 marked, " Sharp practice, Charley ; it was the overcharge 
 saved you." 
 
 " Is he killed, sir ? " I asked. 
 
 " Not quite, I believe, but as good. You took him just 
 above the hip." 
 
 " Can he recover ? " said I, with a voice tremulous from 
 agitation, which I vainly endeavored to conceal from my 
 companion. 
 
 " Not if the doctor can help it," said Considine ; " for
 
 58 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 the fool keeps poking about for the ball. But now let 's 
 think of the next step, — you '11 have to leave this, and at 
 once, too." 
 
 Little more passed between us. As we rowed towards 
 the shore, Considine was following up his reflections, and 
 I had mine, — alas ! too many and too bitter to escape 
 from. 
 
 As we neared the land a strange spectacle caught our 
 eye. For a considerable distance along the coast crowds 
 of country people were assembled, who, forming in groups 
 and breaking into parties of two and three, were evidently 
 watching with great anxiety what was taking place at the 
 opposite side. Now, the distance was at least a mile, and 
 therefore any part of the transaction which had been enact- 
 ing there must have been quite beyond their view. While 
 I was wondering at this, Considine cried out suddenly, "Too 
 infamous, by Jove ! We 're murdered men ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " said I. 
 
 " Don't you see that ? " said he, pointing to something 
 black which floated from a pole at the opposite side of the 
 river. 
 
 " Yes ; what is it ? " 
 
 " It 's his coat they 've put upon an oar to show the peo- 
 ple he 's killed, — that 's all. Every man here 's his tenant ; 
 and look — there ! They 're not giving us much doubt as 
 to their intention." 
 
 Here a tremendous yell burst forth from the mass of 
 people along the shore, which rising to a terrific cry sunk 
 gradually down to a low wailing, then rose and fell again 
 several times as the Irish death-cry filled the air and rose 
 to Heaven, as if imploring vengeance on a murderer. 
 
 The appalling influence of the keen, as it is called, had 
 been familiar to me from my infancy; but it needed the 
 awful situation I was placed in to consummate its horrors. 
 It was at once my accusation and my doom. I knew well 
 — none better — the vengeful character of the Irish peas- 
 ant of the west, and that my death was certain I had no 
 doubt. The very crime that sat upon my heart quailed its 
 courage and unnerved my arm. As the boatmen looked 
 from us towards the shore and again at our faces, they,
 
 THE DUEL. 59 
 
 as if instinctively, lay upon their oars, and waited for our 
 decision as to what course to pursue. 
 
 " Eig the spritsail, my boys," said Considine, " and let 
 her head lie up the river ; and be alive, for I see they 're 
 bailing a boat below the little reef there, and will be after 
 us in no time." 
 
 The poor fellows, who, although strangers to us, sympa- 
 thizing in what they perceived to be our imminent danger, 
 stepped the light spar which acted as mast, and shook out 
 their scanty rag of canvas in a minute. Considine mean- 
 while went aft, and steadying her head with an oar, held 
 the small craft up to the wind till she lay completely over, 
 and as she rushed through the water, ran dipping her gun- 
 wale through the white foam. 
 
 " Where can we make without tacking, boys ? " inquired 
 the count. 
 
 " If it blows on as fresh, sir, we '11 run you ashore within 
 half a mile of the Castle." 
 
 " Put an oar to leeward," said Considine, " and keep her 
 up more to the wind, and I promise you, my lads, you 
 will not go home fresh and fasting if you land us where 
 you say." 
 
 " Here they come," said the other boatman, as he pointed 
 back with his finger towards a large yawl which shot sud- 
 denly from the shore, with six sturdy fellows pulling at their 
 oars, while three or four others were endeavoring to get up 
 their rigging, which appeared tangled and confused at the 
 bottom of the boat ; the white splash of water which fell 
 each moment beside her showing that the process of bail- 
 ing was still continued. 
 
 " Ah, then, may I never — av it is n't the ould 'Dolphin' 
 they have launched for the cruise," said one of our fellows. 
 
 " What 's the ' Dolphin,' then ? " 
 
 " An ould boat of the Lord's [Lord Clanricarde's] that 
 did n't see water, except when it rained, these four years, 
 and is sun-cracked from stem to stern." 
 
 " She can sail, however," said Considine, who watched 
 with a painful anxiety the rapidity of her course through 
 the water. 
 
 "Nabocklish, she was a smuggler's jolly-boat, and well
 
 60 CmVRLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 used to it. Look how tliey 're pulling, God pardon them, 
 but they 're in no blessed humor this morning." 
 
 " Lay out upon your oars, boys ; the wind 's failing us," 
 cried the count, as the sail flapped lazily against the mast. 
 
 " It 's no use, yer honor," said the elder. " We '11 be 
 only breaking our hearts to no purj^ose. They're sure to 
 catch us." 
 
 " Do as I bade you, at all events. What 's that ahead of 
 us there ? " 
 
 " The Oat Eock, sir. A vessel with grain struck there and 
 went down with all aboard, four years last Avinter. There 's 
 no channel between it and the shore, — all sunk rocks, every 
 inch of it. There 's the breeze." 
 
 The canvas fell over as he spoke, and the little craft lay 
 down to it till the foaming water bubbled over her lee bow. 
 
 " Keep her head up, sir ; higher — higher still." 
 
 But Considine little heeded the direction, steering straight 
 for the narrow channel the man alluded to. 
 
 " Tear and ages, but you 're going right for the cloch na 
 quirka ! " 
 
 " Arrah, an' the devil a taste I '11 be drowned for your 
 devarsion ! " said the other, springing up. 
 
 " Sit down there, and be still," roared Considine, as he 
 drew a pistol from the case at his feet, " if you don't want 
 some leaden ballast to keep you so ! Here, Charley, take 
 this, and if that fellow stirs hand or foot — you under- 
 stand me." 
 
 The two men sat sulkily in the bottom of the boat, which 
 now was actually flying through the water. Considine's 
 object was a clear one. He saw that in sailing we were 
 greatly overmatched, and that our only chance lay in reach- 
 ing the narrow and dangerous channel between Oat Rock 
 and the shore, by which we should distance the pursuit, the 
 long reef of rocks that ran out beyond requiring a wide 
 berth to escape from. Nothing but the danger behind us 
 could warrant so rash a daring. The whole channel was 
 dotted with patches of white and breaking foam, — the sure 
 evidence of the mischief beneath, — while here and there a 
 dash of spurting spray flew up from the dark water, where 
 some cleft rock lay hid below the flood. Escape seemed im-
 
 THE DUEL. 61 
 
 possible ; but who would not have preferred even so slender 
 a chance with so frightful an alternative behind him ? As 
 if to add terror to the scene, Considine had scarcely turned 
 the boat ahead of the channel when a tremendous black- 
 ness spread over all around, the thunder pealed forth, and 
 amidst the crashing of the hail and the bright glare of light- 
 ning a squall struck us and laid us nearly keel uppermost 
 for several minutes. I well remember we ruslied through 
 the dark and blackened water, our little craft more than 
 half filled, the oars floating off to leeward, and we ourselves 
 kneeling on the bottom planks for safety. Koll after roll 
 of loud thunder broke, as it were, just above our heads ; 
 while in the swift dashing rain that seemed to hiss around 
 us every object was hidden, and even the other boat was 
 lost to our view. The two poor fellows — I shall never 
 forget their expression. One, a devout Catholic, had placed 
 a little leaden image of a saint before him in the bow, and 
 implored its intercession with a torturing agony of suspense 
 that wrung my very heart. The other, apparently less alive 
 to such consolations as his Church afforded, remained with 
 his hands clasped, his mouth compressed, his brows knitted, 
 and his dark eyes bent upon me with the fierce hatred of a 
 deadly enemy ; his eyes were sunken and bloodshot, and all 
 told of some dreadful conflict within. The wild ferocity of 
 his look fascinated my gaze, and amidst all the terrors of the 
 scene I could not look from him. As I gazed, a second and 
 more awful squall struck the boat ; the mast went over, and 
 with a loud report like a pistol-shot smashed at the thwart 
 and fell over, trailing the sail along the milky sea behind 
 us. Meanwhile the water rushed clean over us, and the 
 boat seemed settling. At this dreadful moment the sailor's 
 eye was bent upon me, his lips parted, and he muttered, as 
 if to himself, "This it is to go to sea with a murderer." 
 Oh, God ! the agony of that moment ! the heartfelt and 
 accusing conscience that I was judged and doomed ! that 
 the brand of Cain was upon my brow ! that my fellow-men 
 Lad ceased forever to regard me as a brother ! that I was 
 an outcast and a wanderer forever ! I bent forward till 
 my forehead fell upon my knees, and I wept. Meanwhile 
 the boat flew through the water, and Considine, who alone
 
 62 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 among us seemed not to lose his presence of mind, cut away 
 the mast and sent it overboard. The storm began now to 
 abate ; and as the black mass of cloud broke from around 
 us we beheld the other boat, also dismasted, far behind us, 
 while all on board of her were employed in bailing out the 
 water with which she seemed almost sinking. The curtain 
 of mist that had hidden us from each other no sooner broke 
 than they ceased their labors for a moment, and looking 
 towards us, burst forth into a yell so wild, so savage, so 
 dreadful, my very heart quailed as its cadence fell upon 
 my ear. 
 
 " Safe, my boy," said Considine, clapping me on the 
 shoulder, as he steered the boat forth from its narrow path 
 of danger, and once more reached the broad Shannon, — 
 " safe, Charley ; though we 've had a brush for it." In a 
 minvite more we reached the land, and drawing our gallant 
 little craft on shore, set out for O'Malley Castle.
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 O'Malley Castle lay about four miles from the spot we 
 landed at, and thither accordingly we bent our steps with- 
 out loss of time. We had not, however, proceeded far, 
 when, before us on the road, we perceived a mixed assem- 
 blage of horse and foot, hurrying along at a tremendous 
 rate. The mob, which consisted of some hundred country 
 people, were armed with sticks, scythes, and pitchforks, 
 and although not preserving any very military aspect in 
 their order of march, were still a force quite formidable 
 enough to make us call a halt, and deliberate upon what we 
 were to do. 
 
 " They 've outflanked us, Charley," said Considine ; " how- 
 ever, all is not yet lost. But see, they 've got sight of us ; 
 here they come." 
 
 At these words, the vast mass before us came pouring 
 along, splashing the mud on every side, and huzzaing like so 
 many Indians. In the front ran a bare-legged boy, waving 
 his cap to encourage the rest, who followed him at about 
 fifty yards behind. 
 
 " Leave that fellow for me," said the count, coolly ex- 
 amining the lock of his pistol ; " I '11 pick him out, and 
 load again in time for his friends' arrival. Charley, is that 
 a gentleman I see far back in the crowd ? Yes, to be sure it 
 is ? He 's on a large horse — now he 's pressing forward ; 
 so let — no — oh — ay, it 's Godfrey O'Malley himself, and 
 these are our own people." Scarcely were the words out 
 when a tremendous cheer arose from the multitude, who, 
 recognizing us at the same instant, sprang from their horses 
 and ran forward to welcome us. Among the foremost was 
 the scarecrow leader, whom I at once perceived as poor 
 Patsey, who, escaping in the morning, had returned at full 
 speed to O'Malley Castle, and raised the whole country to
 
 64 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 my rescue. Before I could address one word to my faith- 
 ful followers I was in my uncle's arms. 
 
 " Safe, my boy, quite safe ? " 
 
 "Quite safe, sir." 
 
 "No scratch anywhere ? " 
 
 " Nothing but a hat the worse, sir," said I, showing the 
 two bullet-holes in my headpiece. 
 
 His lip quivered as he turned and whispered something 
 into Considine's ear, which I heard not ; but the count's re- 
 ply was, " Devil a bit, as cool as you see him this minute." 
 
 " And Bodkin, what of him ? " 
 
 " This day's work 's his last," said Considine ; " the ball 
 entered here. But come along, Godfrey ; Charley 's new at 
 this kind of thing, and we had better discuss matters in 
 the house." 
 
 Half-an-hour's brisk trot — for we were soon supplied 
 with horses — brought us back to the Castle, much to the 
 disappointment of our cortege, who had been promised a 
 scrimmage, and went back in very ill-humor at the breach 
 of contract. 
 
 The breakfast-room, as we entered, was filled with my 
 uncle's supporters, all busily engaged over poll-books and 
 booth tallies, in preparation for the eventful day of battle. 
 These, however, were immediately thrown aside to hasten 
 round me and inquire all the details of my duel. Considine, 
 happily for me, however, assumed all the dignity of an 
 historian, and recounted the events of the morning so much 
 to my honor and glory, that I, who only a little before felt 
 crushed and bowed down by the misery of my late duel, 
 began, amidst the warm congratulations and eulogiums 
 about me, to think I was no small hero, and in fact, some- 
 thing very much resembling "the man for Gal way." To this 
 feeling a circumstance that followed assisted in contribut- 
 ing. While we were eagerly discussing the various results 
 likely to arise from the meeting, a horse galloped rapidly 
 to the door and a loud voice called out, " I can't get off, but 
 tell him to come here." We rushed out and beheld Captain 
 Malowney, Mr. Bodkin's second, covered with mud from 
 head to foot, and his horse reeking with foam and sweat. 
 " I am hurrying on to Athlone for another doctor ; but I 've
 
 THE RETUEN. 65 
 
 called to tell you that the wound is not supposed to be mor- 
 tal, — he may recover yet." Without waiting for another 
 word, he dashed spurs into his nag and rattled down the 
 avenue at full gallop. Mr. Bodkin's dearest friend on earth 
 could not have received the intelligence with more delight ; 
 and I now began to listen to the congratulations of my 
 friends with a more tranquil spirit. My uncle, too, seemed 
 much relieved by the information, and heard with great 
 good temper my narrative of the few days at Gurt-na-Morra. 
 " So then," said he, as I concluded, "my opponent is at least 
 a gentleman ; that is a comfort." 
 
 " Sir George Dashwood," said I, " from all I have seen, 
 is a remarkably nice person, and I am certain you will meet 
 with only the fair and legitimate opposition of an opposing 
 candidate in him, — no mean or unmanly subterfuge." 
 
 " All right, Charley. Well, now, your affair of this morn- 
 ing must keep you quiet for a few days, come what will ; 
 by Monday next, when the election takes place, Bodkin's 
 fate will be pretty clear, one way or the other, and if mat- 
 ters go well, you can come into town ; otherwise, I have 
 arranged with Considine to take you over to the Continent 
 for a year or so ; but we '11 discuss all this in the evening. 
 Now I must start on a canvass. Boyle expects to meet 
 you at dinner to-day ; he is coming from Athlone on pur- 
 pose. Now, good-by ! " 
 
 When my uncle had gone, I sank into a chair and fell 
 into a musing fit over all the changes a few hours had 
 wrought in me. From a mere boy whose most serious 
 employment was stocking the house with game or inspect- 
 ing the kennel, I had sprung at once into man's estate, was 
 complimented for my coolness, praised for ray prowess, 
 lauded for my discretion, by those who were my seniors 
 by nearly half a century ; talked to in a tone of confidential 
 intimacy by my uncle, and, in a word, treated in all respects 
 as an equal, — and such was all the work of a few hours. 
 But so it is ; the eras in life are separated by a narrow 
 boundary, — some trifling accident, some casual rencontre 
 impels us across the Rubicon, and we pass from infancy 
 to youth, from youth to manhood, from manhood to age, 
 less by the slow and imperceptible step of time than by 
 
 VOL. I, — 5
 
 66 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 some one decisive act or passion which, occurring at a 
 critical moment, elicits a long latent feeling, and impresses 
 our existence with a color that tinges us for many a long 
 year. As for me, I had cut the tie which bound me to the 
 careless gayety of boyhood with a rude gash. In three 
 short days I had fallen deeply, desperately in love, and had 
 wounded, if not killed, an antagonist in a duel. As I medi- 
 tated on these things, I was aroused by the noise of horses' 
 feet in the yard beneath. I opened the window and beheld 
 no less a person than Captain Hammersley. He was hand- 
 ing a card to a servant, which he was accompanying by a 
 verbal message ; the impression of something like hostility 
 on the part of the captain had never left my mind, and 1 
 hastened down-stairs just in time to catch him as he turned 
 from the door. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. O'Malley ! " said he, in a most courteous tone. 
 " They told me you were not at home." 
 
 I apologized for the blunder, and begged of him to alight 
 and come in. 
 
 " I thank you very much, but, in fact, my hours are now 
 numbered here. I have just received an order to join my 
 regiment ; we have been ordered for service, and Sir George 
 has most kindly permitted my giving up my staff appoint- 
 ment. I could not, however, leave the country without 
 shaking hands with you. I owe you a lesson in horseman- 
 ship, and I 'm only sorry that we are not to have another 
 day together." 
 
 " Then you are going out to the Peninsula ? " said I. 
 
 "Why, we hope so ; the commander-in-chief, they say, is 
 in great want of cavalry, and we scarcely less in want of 
 something to do. I 'm sorry you are not coming with 
 us." 
 
 " Would to Heaven I were ! " said I, with an earnestness 
 that almost made my brain start. 
 
 « Then, why not ? " 
 
 ''Unfortunately, I am peculiarly situated. My worthy 
 uncle, who is all to me in this world, would be quite alone 
 if I were to leave him ; and although he has never said so, 
 I know he dreads the possibility of my suggesting such a 
 thing to him : so that, between his fears and mine, the mat-
 
 THE RETURN. 67 
 
 ter is never broached by either party, nor do I think ever 
 can be." 
 
 " Devilish liard — but I believe you are right ; something, 
 however, may turn up yet to alter his mind, and if so, and 
 if you do take to dragooning, don't forget George Hammers- 
 ley will be always most delighted to meet you ; and so 
 good-by, O'Malley, good-by." 
 
 He turned his horse's head and was already some paces 
 off, when he returned to my side, and in a lower tone of 
 voice said, — 
 
 "I ought to mention to you that there has been much 
 discussion on your affair at Blake's table, and only one 
 opinion on the matter among all parties, — that you acted 
 perfectly right. Sir George Dashwood, — no mean judge of 
 such things, — quite approves of your conduct, and, I believe, 
 wishes you to know as much ; and now, once more, good-by."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE ELECTION. 
 
 The important morning at length arrived, and as I looked 
 from my bed-room window at daybreak, the crowd of car- 
 riages of all sorts and shapes decorated with banners and 
 placards ; the incessant bustle ; the hurrying hither and 
 thither ; the cheering as each new detachment of voters 
 came up, mounted on jaunting-cars, or on horses whose 
 whole caparison consisted in a straw rope for a bridle, 
 and a saddle of the same frail material, — all informed me 
 that the election day was come. I lost no further time, but 
 proceeded to dress with all possible despatch. When I 
 appeared in the breakfast-room, it was already filled with 
 some seventy or eighty persons of all ranks and ages, 
 mingled confusedly together, and enjoying the hospitable 
 fare of my uncle's house, while they discussed all the de- 
 tails and prospects of the election. In the hall, the li- 
 brary, the large drawing-room, too, similar parties were also 
 assembled, and as newcomers arrived, the servants were 
 busy in preparing tables before the door and up the large 
 terrace that ran the entire length of the building. Nothing 
 could be more amusing than the incongruous mixture of 
 the guests, who, with every variety of eatable that chance 
 or inclination provided, were thus thrown into close con- 
 tact, having only this in common, — the success of the cause 
 they were engaged in. Here was the old Gal way squire, 
 with an ancestry that reached to Noah, sitting side by 
 side with the poor cotter, whose whole earthly possession 
 was what, in Irish phrase, is called a " potato garden," — 
 meaning the exactly smallest possible patch of ground out 
 of which a very Indian-rubber conscience could presume to 
 vote. Here sat the old simple-minded, farmer-like man, in 
 close conversation with a little white-foreheaded, keen-eyed 
 personage, in a black coat and eye-glass, — a flash attorney
 
 THE ELECTION, 69 
 
 from Dublin, learned in flaws of the registry, and deep in 
 the subtleties of election law. There was an Athlone horse- 
 dealer, whose habitual daily practices in imposing the halt, 
 the lame, and the blind upon the unsuspecting, for beasts 
 of blood and mettle, well qualified him for the trickery of 
 a county contest. Then there were scores of squireen gen- 
 try, easily recognized on common occasions by a green coat, 
 brass buttons, dirty cords, and dirtier top-boots, a lash- 
 whip, and a half-bred fox-hound ; but now, fresh-washed 
 for the day, they presented something the appearance of a 
 swell mob, adjusted to the meridian of Galway. A mass of 
 frieze-coated, brow-faced, bullet-headed peasantry filled up 
 the large spaces, dotted here and there with a sleek, roguish- 
 eyed priest, or some low electioneering agent detailing, 
 for the amusement of the company, some of those cunning 
 practices of former times which if known to the proper 
 authorities would in all likelihood cause the talented nar- 
 rator to be improving the soil of Sidney, or fishing on the 
 banks of the Swan river; while at the head and foot of 
 each table sat some personal friend of my uncle, whose 
 ready tongue, and still readier pistol, made him a personage 
 of some consequence, not more to his own people than to 
 the enemy. While of such material were the company, the 
 fare before them was no less varied : here some rubicund 
 squire was deep in amalgamating the contents of a venison 
 pasty with some of Sneyd's oldest claret 5 his neighbor, less 
 ambitious, and less erudite in such matters, was devouring 
 rashers of bacon, with liberal potations of potteen ; some 
 pale-cheeked scion of the law, with all the dust of the Four 
 Courts in his throat, was sipping his humble beverage of 
 black tea beside four sturdy cattle-dealers from Ballinasloe, 
 who were discussing hot whiskey punch and spoleaion 
 (boiled beef) at the very primitive hour of eight in the 
 morning. Amidst the clank of decanters, the crash of knives 
 and plates, and the jingling of glasses, the laughter and 
 voices of the guests were audibly increasing ; and the various 
 modes of " running a buck " (Anglice, substituting a vote), 
 or hunting a badger, were talked over on all sides, while 
 the price of a veal (a calf), or a voter, was disputed with alJ 
 the energy of debate.
 
 70 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Kefusing many an offered place, I went througli the dif- 
 ferent rooms in search of Considine, to whom circumstances 
 of late had somehow greatly attached me. 
 
 " Here, Charley," cried a voice I was very familiar with, 
 — " here 's a place I 've been keeping for you." 
 
 " Ah, Sir Harry, how do you do ? Any of that grouse- 
 pie to spare ? " 
 
 "Abundance, my boy; but I'm afraid I can't say as 
 much for the liquor. I have been shouting for claret this 
 half-hour in vain, — do get us some nutriment down here, 
 and the Lord will reward you. What a pity it is," he 
 added, in a lower tone, to his neighbor — " what a pity a 
 quart-bottle won't hold a quart ; but I '11 bring it before 
 the House one of these days." That he kept his word in 
 this respect, a motion on the books of the Honorable House 
 will bear me witness. 
 
 " Is this it ? " said he, turning towards a farmer-like old 
 man, who had put some question to him across the table ; 
 "is it the apple-pie you '11 have ? " 
 
 " Many thanks to your honor, — I 'd like it, av it was 
 wholesome." 
 
 " And why should n't it be wholesome ? " said Sir 
 Harry. 
 
 "Troth, then, myself does not know; but my father, I 
 heerd tell, died of an apple-plexy, and I 'm afeerd of 
 it." 
 
 I at length found Considine, and learned that, as a very 
 good account of Bodkin had arrived, there was no reason 
 why I should not proceed to the hustings; but I was 
 secretly charged not to take any prominent part in the 
 day's proceedings. My uncle I only saw for an instant, — 
 he begged me to be careful, avoid all scrapes, and not to 
 quit Considine. It was past ten o'clock when our formid- 
 able procession got under way, and headed towards the town 
 of Galway. The road was, for miles, crowded with our fol- 
 lowers ; banners flying and music playing, we presented 
 something of the spectacle of a very ragged army on its 
 march. At every cross-road a mountain-path reinforcement 
 awaited us, and as we wended along, our numbers were 
 momentarily increasing; here and there along the line,
 
 THE ELECTION. 
 
 71 
 
 some energetic and not over-sober adherent was regaling 
 his auditory with a speech in laudation of the O'Malleys 
 since the days of Moses, and more than one priest was 
 heard threatening the terrors of his Church in aid of a 
 cause to whose success he was pledged and bound. I rode 
 beside the count, who, surrounded by a group of choice 
 spirits, recounted the various happy inventions by which 
 he had, on divers occasions, substituted a personal quarrel 
 
 for a contest. Boyle also contributed his share of election 
 
 anecdote, and one incident he related, which, I remember, 
 
 amused me much at the time. 
 
 "Do you remember Billy Calvert, that came down to 
 
 contest Kilkenny ? " inquired Sir Harry. 
 
 " What, ever forget him ! " said Considine, " with his 
 
 well-powdered wig and his hessians. There never was 
 
 his equal for lace ruffles and rings." 
 
 " You never heard, may be, how he lost the election ? " 
 " He resigned, I believe, or something of that sort." 
 "No, no," said another} "he never came forward at alL
 
 72 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 There 's some secret in it ; for Tom Butler was elected with- 
 out a contest." 
 
 " Jack, I '11 tell you how it happened. I was on my way 
 up from Cork, having finished my own business, and just 
 carried the day, not without a push for it. When we 
 reached, — Lady Mary was with me, — when we reached 
 Kilkenny, the night before the election, I was not ten 
 minutes in town till Butler heard of it, and sent off 
 express to see me ; I was at my dinner when the messen- 
 ger came, and promised to go over when I'd done. But 
 faith, Tom did n't wait, but came rushing up-stairs himself, 
 and dashed into the room in the greatest hurry. 
 
 " ' Harry,' says he, ' I 'm done for ; the corporation of free 
 smiths, that were always above bribery, having voted for 
 myself and my father before, for four pounds ten a man, 
 won't come forward under six guineas and whiskey. Calvert 
 has the money ; they know it. The devil a farthing we 
 have ; and we 've been paying all our fellows that can't 
 read in Hennesy's notes, and you know the bank 's broke 
 this three weeks.' 
 
 " On he went, giving me a most disastrous picture of his 
 cause, and concluded by asking if I could suggest anything 
 under the circumstances. 
 
 " ' You could n't get a decent mob and clear the poll ? ' 
 
 " ' I am afraid not,' said he, despondingly. 
 
 " ' Then I don't see what 's to be done, if you can't pick a 
 fight with himself. Will he go out ? ' 
 
 '^ ' Lord knows ! They say he 's so afraid of that, that it 
 has prevented him coming down till the very day. But he 
 is arrived now; he came in the evening, and is stopping 
 at Walsh's in Patrick Street.' 
 
 " ' Then I '11 see what can be done,' said I. 
 
 " ' Is that Calvert, the little man that blushes when the 
 Lady-Lieutenant speaks to him ? ' said Lady Mary. 
 
 " ' The very man.' 
 
 " ' Would it be of any use to you if he could not come on 
 the hustings to-morrow ? ' said she, again. 
 
 " ' 'T would gain us the day. Half the voters don't believe 
 he 's here at all, and his chief agent cheated all the people 
 on the last election; and if Calvert didn't appear, he
 
 THE ELECTION. 73 
 
 wouldn't have ten votes to register. But why do you 
 ask?' 
 
 " ' Why, that, if you like, I '11 bet you a pair of diamond 
 ear-rings he sha' n't show.' 
 
 " ' Done ! ' said Butler. * And I promise a necklace into 
 the bargain, if you win ; but I 'm afraid you 're only quiz- 
 zing me.' 
 
 " ' Here 's my hand on it,' said she. ' And now let 's talk 
 of something else.' 
 
 "As Lady Mary never asked my assistance, and as 1 
 knew she was very well able to perform whatever she 
 undertook, you may be sure I gave myself very little 
 trouble about the whole affair ; and when they came, I 
 went off to breakfast with Tom's committee, not knowing 
 anything that was to be done. 
 
 "Calvert had given orders that he was to be called at 
 eight o'clock, and so a few minutes before that time a gentle 
 knock came to the door. 
 
 "'Come in,' said he, thinking it was the waiter, and 
 covering himself up in the clothes ; for he was the most 
 bashful creature ever was seen, — ' come in.' 
 
 " The door opened, and what was his horror to find that 
 a lady entered in her dressing-gown, her hair on her shoul- 
 ders, very much tossed and dishevelled. The moment she 
 came in, she closed the door and locked it, and then sat 
 leisurely down upon a chair. 
 
 " Billy's teeth chattered, and his limbs trembled ; for this 
 was an adventure of a very novel kind for him. At last he 
 took courage to speak. 
 
 " ' I am afraid, madam,' said he, ' that you are under some 
 unhappy mistake, and that you suppose this chamber is — ' 
 
 " ' Mr. Calvert's,' said the lady, with a solemn voice, ' is 
 it not ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, madam, I am that person.' 
 
 " ' Thank God ! ' said the lady, with a very impressive 
 tone. ' Here I am safe.' 
 
 " Billy grew very much puzzled at these words ; but 
 hoping that by his silence the lady would proceed to some 
 explanation, he said no more. She, however, seemed to 
 think that nothing further was necessary, and sat still and
 
 74 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 motionless, with her hands before her and her eyes fixed on 
 Billy. 
 
 " * You seem to forget me, sir ? ' said she, with a faint 
 smile. 
 
 " ' I do, indeed, madam ; the half-light, the novelty of 
 your costume, and the strangeness of the circumstance alto- 
 gether must plead for me, if I appear rude enough.' 
 
 " ' I am Lady Mary Boyle,' said she. 
 
 " ' I do remember you, madam ; but may I ask — ' 
 
 " ' Yes, yes ; I know what you would ask. You would 
 say, Why are you here ? How comes it that you have so 
 far outstepped the propriety of which your whole life is 
 an example, that alone, at such a time, you appear in the 
 chamber of a man whose character for gallantry — ' 
 
 " ' Oh, indeed — indeed, my lady, nothing of the kind ! ' 
 
 " * Ah, alas ! poor defenceless women learn, too late, how 
 constantly associated is the retiring modesty which decries, 
 with the pleasing powers which ensure success — ' 
 
 " Here she sobbed, Billy blushed, and the clock struck nine. 
 
 " ' May I then beg, madam — ' 
 
 " ' Yes, yes, you shall hear it all ; but my poor scattered 
 faculties will not be the clearer by your hurrying me. You 
 know, perhaps,' continued she, 'that my maiden name was 
 Rogers ? ' He of the blankets bowed, and she resumed, 
 * It is now eighteen years since, that a young, unsuspecting, 
 fond creature, reared in all the care and fondness of doting 
 parents, tempted her first step in life, and trusted her fate 
 to another's keeping. I am that unhappy person ; the other, 
 that monster in human guise that smiled but to betray, that 
 won but to ruin and destroy, is he whom you know as Sir 
 Harry Boyle.' 
 
 " Here she sobbed for some minutes, wiped her eyes, and 
 resumed her narrative. Beginning at the period of her mar- 
 riage, she detailed a number of circumstances in which poor 
 Calvert, in all his anxiety to come aufond at matters, could 
 never perceive bore upon the question in any way ; but as 
 she recounted them all with great force and precision, en- 
 treating him to bear in mind certain circumstances to which 
 she should recur by and by, his attention was kept on the 
 stretch, and it was only when the clock struck ten that he
 
 THE ELECTION. 75 
 
 was fully aware how his moruing was passing, and what 
 surmises his absence might originate. 
 
 " ' May I interrupt you for a moment, dear madam ? Was 
 it nine or ten o'clock which struck last ? ' 
 
 " ' How should I know ? ' said she, frantically. ' What 
 are hours and minutes to her who has passed long years 
 of misery ? ' 
 
 " ' Very true, very true,' replied he, timidly, and rather 
 fearing for the intellect of his fair companion. 
 
 She continued. The narrative, however, so far from be- 
 coming clearer, grew gradually more confused and intricate ; 
 and as frequent references were made by the lady to some 
 previous statement, Calvert was more than once rebuked for 
 forgetfulness and inattention, where in reality nothing less 
 than short-hand could have borne him through. 
 
 " ' Was it in '93 I said that Sir Harry left me at Tuam ? ' 
 
 " * Upon my life, madam, I am afraid to aver ; but it 
 strikes me — ' 
 
 " * Gracious powers ! and this is he whom I fondly trusted 
 to make the depository of my woes ! Cruel, cruel man ! ' 
 
 " Here she sobbed considerably for several minutes, and 
 spoke not. A loud cheer of ' Butler forever ! ' from the mob 
 without now burst upon their hearing, and recalled poor 
 Calvert at once to the thought that the hours were speed- 
 ing fast and no prospect of the everlasting tale coming to 
 an end. 
 
 " ' I am deeply, most deeply grieved, my dear madam,' 
 said the little man, sitting up in a pyramid of blankets ; 
 'but hours, minutes, are most precious to me this morn- 
 ing, I am about to be proposed as member for Kilkenny.' 
 
 "At these words the lady straightened her figure out, 
 threw her arms at either side, and burst into a fit of laugh- 
 ter which poor Calvert knew at once to be hysterics. Here 
 was a pretty situation ! The bell-rope lay against the oppo- 
 site wall ; and even if it did not, would he be exactly war- 
 ranted in pulling it ? 
 
 " ' May the devil and all his angels take Sir Harry Boyle 
 and his whole connection to the fifth generation ! ' \^as his 
 sincere prayer as he sat like a Chinese juggler under his 
 canopy.
 
 76 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " At length the violence of the paroxysm seemed to sub- 
 side ; the sobs became less frequent, the kicking less forci- 
 ble, and the lady's eyes closed, and she appeared to have 
 fallen asleep. 
 
 <•' ' Now is the moment,' said Billy. ' If I could only get 
 as far as my dressing-gown.' So saying, he worked him- 
 self down noiselessly to the foot of his bed, looked fixedly 
 at the fallen lids of the sleeping lady, and essayed one leg 
 from the blanket. ' Now or never,' said he, pushing aside 
 the curtain and preparing for a spring. One more look he 
 east at his companion, and then leaped forth ; but just as 
 he lit upon the floor she again roused herself, screaming 
 with horror. Billy fell upon the bed, and rolling himself 
 in the bedclothes, vowed never to rise again till she was 
 out of the visible horizon. 
 
 " ' What is all this ? What do you mean, sir ? ' said the 
 lady, reddening with indignation. 
 
 " ' Nothing, upon my soul, madam ; it was only my dress- 
 ing-gown.' 
 
 " ' Your dressing-gown ! ' said she, with an emphasis worthy 
 of Siddons ; ' a likely story for Sir Harry to believe, sir ! Fie, 
 fie, sir ! ' 
 
 " This last allusion seemed a settler ; for the luckless Cal- 
 vert heaved a profound sigh, and sunk down as if all hope 
 had left him. * Butler forever ! ' roared the mob. ' Calvert 
 forever!' cried a boy's voice from without. 'Three groans 
 for the runaway ! ' answered this announcement ; and a very 
 tender inquiry of, ' Where is he ? ' was raised by some hun- 
 dred mouths. 
 
 " ' Madam,' said the almost frantic listener, — ' madam, I 
 must get up ! I must dress ! I beg of you to permit me ! ' 
 
 " ' I have nothing to refuse, sir. Alas, disdain has long 
 been my only portion ! Get up, if you will.' 
 
 " ' But,' said the astonished man, who was well-nigh de- 
 ranged at the coolness of this reply, — ' but how am I to do 
 so if you sit there ? ' 
 
 " ' Sorry for any inconvenience I may cause you ; but in 
 the crowded state of the hotel I hope you see the impro- 
 priety of my walking about the passages in this costume ? ' 
 
 " ' And, great God ! madam, why did you come out in it ? '
 
 THE ELECTION. 77 
 
 "A cheer from the mob prevented her reply being au- 
 dible. One o'clock tolled out from the great bell of the 
 cathedral. 
 
 " ' There 's one o'clock, as I live ! ' 
 
 " ^ I heard it,' said the lady. 
 
 "' The shouts are increasing. What is that I hear ? "But- 
 ler is in ! " Gracious mercy ! is the election over ? ' 
 
 " The lady stepped to the window, drew aside the curtain, 
 and said, * Indeed, it would appear so. The mob are cheer- 
 ing Mr. Butler.' A deafening shout burst from the street. 
 ' Perhaps you 'd like to see the fun, so I '11 not detain you 
 any longer. So, good-by, Mr. Calvert ; and as your break- 
 fast will be cold, in all likelihood, come down to No. 4, for 
 Sir Harry 's a late man, and will be glad to see you.' "
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE. 
 
 As thus we lightened the road with chatting, the increas- 
 ing concourse of people, and the greater throng of carriages 
 that filled the road, announced that we had nearly reached 
 our destination. 
 
 " Considine," said my uncle, riding up to where we were, 
 "I have just got a few lines from Davern. It seems Bod- 
 kin's people are afraid to come in ; they know what they 
 must expect, and if so, more than half of that barony is 
 lost to our opponent." 
 
 " Then he has no chance whatever." 
 
 " He never had, in my opinion," said Sir Harry. 
 
 " We '11 see soon," said my uncle, cheerfully, and rode to 
 the post. 
 
 The remainder of the way was occupied in discussing the 
 various possibilities of the election, into which I was re- 
 joiced to find that defeat never entered. 
 
 In the goodly days I speak of, a county contest was a very 
 different thing indeed from the tame and insipid farce tliat 
 now passes under that name : where a briefless barrister, 
 bullied by both sides, sits as assessor ; a few drunken 
 voters, a radical O'Connellite grocer, a demagogue priest, a 
 deputy grand-purple-something from the Trinity College 
 lodge, with some half-dozen followers, shouting, "To the 
 Devil with Peel ! " or " Down with Dens ! " form the whole 
 corp-de-ballet. No, no ; in the times I refer to the voters 
 were some thousands in number, and the adverse parties 
 took the field, far less dependent for success upon previous 
 pledge or promise made tliem than upon the actual strata- 
 gem of the day. Each went forth, like a general to battle, 
 surrounded by a numerous and well-chosen staff, — one party 
 of friends, acting as commissariat, attended to the victual- 
 ling of the voters, that they obtained a due, or rather undue
 
 AN ADVENTURE. 79 
 
 allowance of liquor, and came properly drunk to the poll ; 
 others, again, broke into skirmishing parties, and scattered 
 over the country, cut off the enemy's supplies, breaking down 
 their post-chaises, upsetting their jaunting-cars, stealing 
 their poll-books, and kidnapping their agents. Then there 
 were secret-service people, bribing the enemy and enticing 
 them to desert ; and lastly, there was a species of sapper- 
 and-miner force, who invented false documents, denied the 
 identity of the opposite party's people, and when hard 
 pushed, provided persons who took bribes from the enemy, 
 and gave evidence afterwards on a petition. Amidst all these 
 encounters of wit and ingenuity, the personal friends of the 
 candidate formed a species of rifle brigade, picking out the 
 enemy's officers, and doing sore damage to their tactics by 
 shooting a proposer or wounding a seconder, — a considerable 
 portion of every leading agent's fee being intended as com- 
 pensation for the duels he might, could, would, should, or 
 ought to fight during the election. Such, in brief, was a 
 contest in the olden time. And when it is taken into con- 
 sideration that it usually lasted a fortnight or three weeks ; 
 that a considerable military force was always engaged (for 
 our Irish law permits this), and which, when nothing press- 
 ing was doing, was regularly assailed by both parties ; that 
 far more dependence was placed in a bludgeon than a pistol ; 
 and that the man who registered a vote without a cracked 
 pate was regarded as a kind of natural phenomenon, — some 
 faint idea may be formed how much such a scene must have 
 contributed to the peace of the county, and the happiness 
 and welfare of all concerned in it. 
 
 As we rode along, a loud cheer from a road that ran par- 
 allel to the one we were pursuing attracted our attention, 
 and we perceived that the cortege of the opposite party was 
 hastening on to the hustings. I could distinguish the 
 Blake girls on horseback among a crowd of officers in 
 undress, and saw something like a bonnet in the carriage- 
 and-four which headed the procession, and which I jiidged 
 to be that of Sir George Dashwood. My heart beat strongly 
 as I strained my eyes to see if Miss Dashwood was there ; 
 but I could not discern her, and it was with a sense of relief 
 that I reflected on the possibility of our not meeting under
 
 80 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 circumstances wherein our feelings and interests were so 
 completely opposed. While I was engaged in making this 
 survey, I had accidentally dropped behind my companions ; 
 my eyes were firmly fixed upon that carriage, and in the 
 faint hope that it contained the object of all my wishes, I 
 forgot everything else. At length the cortege entered the 
 town, and passing beneath a heavy stone gateway, was lost 
 to my view. I was still lost in revery, when an under- 
 agent of my uncle's rode up. 
 
 " Oh, Master Charles ! " said he, " what's to be done ? 
 They 've forgotten Mr. Holmes at Woodford, and we 
 have n't a carriage, chaise, or even a car left to send for 
 him." 
 
 " Have you told Mr. Considine ? " inquired I. 
 
 "And sure you know yourself how little Mr. Considine 
 thinks of a lawyer. It 's small comfort he 'd give me if I 
 went to tell him. If it was a case of pistols or a bullet 
 mould he 'd ride back the whole way himself for them." 
 
 " Try Sir Harry Boyle, then." 
 
 " He 's making a speech this minute before the court- 
 house." 
 
 This had sufficed to show me how far behind my com- 
 panions I had been loitering, when a cheer from the distant 
 road again turned my eyes in that direction ; it was the 
 Dashwood carriage returning after leaving Sir George at 
 the hustings. The head of the britska, before thrown open, 
 was now closed, and I could not make out if any one were 
 inside. 
 
 " Devil a doubt of it," said the agent, in answer to some 
 question of a farmer who rode beside him ; "will you stand 
 to me ? " 
 
 " Troth, to be sure I will." 
 
 "Here goes, then," said he, gathering up his reins and 
 turning his horse towards the fence at the roadside ; " fol- 
 low me now, boys." 
 
 The order was well obeyed ; for when he had cleared the 
 ditch, a dozen stout country fellows, well mounted, were 
 beside him. Away they went, at a hunting pace, taking 
 every leap before them, and heading towards the road 
 before us.
 
 AN ADVENTURE. 81 
 
 Without thinking further of the matter, I was laughing 
 at the droll effect the line of frieze coats presented as they 
 rode side by side over the stone-walls, when an observation 
 near me aroused my attention. 
 
 "Ah, then, av they know anything of Tim Finucane, 
 they '11 give it up peaceably ; it 's little he 'd think of taking 
 the coach from under the judge himself." 
 
 " What are they about, boys ? " said I. 
 
 " Goin' to take the chaise-and-four forninst ye, yer 
 honor," said the man. 
 
 I waited not to hear more, but darting spurs into my 
 horse's sides, cleared the fence in one bound. My horse, a 
 strong-knit half-breed, was as fast as a racer for a short dis- 
 tance ; so that when the agent and his party had come up 
 with the carriage, I was only a few hundred yards behind. 
 I shouted out with all my might, but they either heard not 
 or heeded not, for scarcely was the first man over the fence 
 into the road when the postilion on the leader was felled to 
 the ground, and his place supplied by his slayer ; the boy 
 on the wheeler shared the same fate, and in an instant, so 
 well managed was the attack, the carriage was in possession 
 of the assailants. Four stout fellows had climbed into the 
 box and the rumble, and six others were climbing to the 
 interior, regardless of the aid of steps. By this time 
 the Dashwood party had got the alarm, and returned in full 
 force, not, however, before the other had laid whip to the 
 horses and set out in full gallop ; and now commenced the 
 most terrific race I ever witnessed. 
 
 The four carriage-horses, which were the property of Sir 
 George, were English thorough-breds of great value, and, 
 totally unaccustomed to the treatment they experienced, 
 dashed forward at a pace that threatened annihilation to 
 the carriage at every bound. The pursuers, though well 
 mounted, were speedily distanced, but followed at a pace 
 that in the end was certain to overtake the carriage. As 
 for myself, I rode on beside the road at the full speed of 
 my horse, shouting, cursing, imploring, execrating, and be- 
 seeching at turns, but all in vain ; the yells and shouts of 
 the pursuers and pursued drowned all other sounds, except 
 when the thundering crash of the horses' feet rose above all. ' 
 
 VOL. I. — 6
 
 82 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 The road, like most western Irisli roads until the present 
 century, lay straight as an arrow for miles, regardless of 
 every opposing barrier, and in the instance in question, 
 crossed a mountain at its very highest point. Towards this 
 pinnacle the pace had been tremendous ; but owing to the 
 higher breeding of the cattle, the carriage party had still 
 the advance, and when they reached the top they proclaimed 
 the victory by a cheer of triumph and derision. The car- 
 riage disappeared beneath the crest of the mountain, and 
 the pursuers halted as if disposed to relinquish the chase. 
 
 " Come on, boys ; never give up," cried I, springing over 
 into the road, and heading the party to which by every right 
 I was opposed. 
 
 It was no time for deliberation, and they followed me 
 with a hearty cheer that convinced me I was unknown. 
 The next instant we were on the mountain top, and beheld 
 the carriage half way down beneath us, still galloping at 
 full stretch. 
 
 " We have them now," said a voice behind me ; " they '11 
 never turn Lurra Bridge, if we only press on." 
 
 The speaker was right ; the road at the mountain foot 
 turned at a perfect riglit angle, and then crossed a lofty 
 one-arched bridge over a mountain torrent that ran deep 
 and boisterously beneath. On we went, gaining at every 
 stride ; for the fellows who rode postilion well knew what 
 was before them, and slackened their pace to secure a safe 
 turning. A yell of victory arose from the pursuers, but was 
 answered by the others with a cheer of defiance. The space 
 was now scarcely two hundred yards between us, when the 
 head of the britska was flung down, and a figure that I at 
 once recognized as the redoubted Tim Finucane, one of the 
 boldest and most reckless fellows in the county, was seen 
 standing on the seat, holding, — gracious Heavens ! it was 
 true, — holding in his arms the apparently lifeless figure of 
 Miss Dashwood. 
 
 " Hold in ! " shouted the ruffian, with a voice that rose 
 high above all the other sounds. " Hold in ! or by the 
 Eternal, I '11 throw her, body and bones, into the Lurra 
 Gash ! " for such was the torrent called that boiled and 
 foamed a few yards before us.
 
 AN ADVENTURE. »o 
 
 He had by tliis time got firmly planted on the hind seat, 
 and held the drooping form on one arm with all the ease of 
 a giant's grasp. 
 
 " For the love of God ! " said I, " pull up. I know him 
 well ; he '11 do it to a certainty if you press on." 
 
 '•'And we know you, too," said a ruffianly fellow, with a 
 dark v>'hisker meeting beneath his chin, " and have some 
 scores to settle ere we part — " 
 
 But I heard no more. With one tremendous effort I 
 dashed my horse forward. The carriage turned an angle of 
 the road, for an instant was out of sight, another moment I 
 was behind it. 
 
 " Stop ! " I shouted, with a last effort, but in vain. The 
 horses, maddened and infuriated, sprang forward, and heed- 
 less of all efforts to turn them the leaders sprang over the 
 low parapet of the bridge, and hanging for a second by the 
 traces, fell with a crash into the swollen torrent beneath. 
 By this time I was beside the carriage. Finucane had now 
 clambered to the box, and regardless of the death and ruin 
 around, bent upon his murderous object, he lifted the light 
 and girlish form above his head, bent backwards as if to 
 give greater impulse to his effort, when, twining my lash 
 around my wrist, I levelled my heavy and loaded hunting- 
 whip at his head. The weighted ball of lead struck him 
 exactly beneath his hat; he stnggered, his hands relaxed, 
 and he fell lifeless to the ground ; the same instant I was 
 felled to the earth by a blow from behind, and saw no more.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MICKEY FREE. 
 
 Nearly three weeks followed the event I have just 
 narrated ere I again was restored to consciousness. The 
 blow by Avhich I was felled — from what hand coming it 
 was never after discovered — had brought on concussion 
 of the brain, and for several days my life was despaired of. 
 As by slow steps I advanced towards recovery, I learned 
 from Considine that Miss Dashwood, whose life was saved 
 by my interference, had testified, in the warmest manner, her 
 gratitude, and that Sir George had, up to the period of his 
 leaving the country, never omitted a single day to ride over 
 and inquire for me. 
 
 "You know, of course," said the count, supposing such 
 news was the most likely to interest me, — "you know we 
 beat them ? " 
 
 "No. Pray tell me all. They 've not let me hear anything 
 hitherto." 
 
 " One day finished the whole affair. We polled man for 
 man till past two o'clock, when our fellows lost all patience 
 and beat their tallies out of the town. The police came up, 
 but they beat the police ; then they got soldiers, but, begad, 
 they were too strong for them, too. Sir George witnessed 
 it all, and knowing besides how little chance he had of 
 success, deemed it best to give in ; so that a little before 
 five o'clock he resigned. I must say no man could behave 
 better. He came across the hustings and shook hands with 
 Godfrey ; and as the news of the scrimmage with his daugh- 
 ter had just arrived, said that he was sorry his prospect of 
 success had not been greater, that in resigning he might 
 testify how deeply he felt the debt the O'Malleys had laid 
 him under." 
 
 " And my uncle, how did he receive his advances ? "
 
 MICKEY FREE, 85 
 
 "Like his own honest self, — grasped his hand firmly ; and 
 upon my soul, I think he was half sorry that he gained the 
 day. Do you know, he took a mighty fancy to that blue- 
 eyed daughter of the old general's. Faith, Charley, if he 
 was some twenty years younger, I would not say but — 
 Come, come, I did n't mean to hurt your feelings ; but I 
 have been staying here too long, I'll send u]3 Mickey 
 to sit with you. Mind and don't be talking too much to 
 him," ^ 
 
 So saying, the worthy count left the room fully impressed 
 that in hinting at the possibility of my uncle's marrying 
 again, he had said something to ruffle my temper. 
 
 For the next two or three weeks my life was one of the 
 most tiresome monotony. Strict injunctions had been given 
 by the doctors to avoid exciting me ; and consequently, 
 every one that came in walked on tiptoe, spoke in whispers, 
 and left me in five minutes, Reading was absolutely for- 
 bidden ; and with a sombre half-light to sit in, and chicken 
 broth to support nature, I dragged out as dreary an exist- 
 ence as any gentleman west of Athlone. 
 
 Whenever my uncle or Considine were not in the room, 
 my companion was my own servant, Michael, or as he was 
 better known, " Mickey Free," Now, had Mickey been left 
 to his own free and unrestricted devices, the time would not 
 have hung so heavily ; for among Mike's manifold gifts he 
 was possessed of a very great flow of gossiping conversation. 
 He knew all that was doing in the county, and never was 
 barren in his information wherever his imagination could 
 come into play. Mickey was the best hurler in the barony, 
 no mean performer on the violin, could dance the national 
 bolero of " Tatter Jack Walsh " in a way that charmed more 
 than one soft heart beneath a red woolsey bodice, and had, 
 withal, the peculiar free-and-easy devil-may-care kind of off- 
 hand Irish way that never deserted him in the midst of his 
 wiliest and most subtle moments, giving to a very deep and 
 cunning fellow all the apparent frankness and openness of a 
 country lad. 
 
 He had attached himself to me as a kind of sporting 
 companion ; and growing daily more and more useful, had 
 been gradually admitted to the honors of the kitchen and
 
 86 • CHARLES 0'jVIi\.LLEY. 
 
 the prerogatives of cast clothes, without ever having been 
 actually engaged as a servant ; and while thus no warrant 
 officer, as, in fact, he discharged all his duties well and 
 punctually, was rated among the ship's company, though 
 no one could say at what precise period he changed his 
 caterpillar existence and became the gay butterfly with 
 cords and tops, a striped vest, and a most knowing jerry 
 hat who stalked about the stable-yard and bullied the 
 helpers. Such was Mike. He had made his fortune, such 
 as it was, and had a most becoming pride in the fact that 
 he made himself indispensable to an establishment which, 
 before he entered it, never knew the want of him. As 
 for me, he was everything to me. Mike informed me what 
 horse was Avrong, why the chestnut mare could n't go out, 
 and why the black horse could. He knew the arrival of 
 a new covey of partridge quicker than the " Morning Post " 
 does of a noble family from the Continent, and could tell 
 their whereabouts twice as accurately. But his talents took 
 a wider range than field sports afford, and he was the faith- 
 ful chronicler of every wake, station, wedding, or christen- 
 ing for miles round ; and as I took no small pleasure in 
 those very national pastimes, the information was of great 
 value to me. To conclude this brief sketch, Mike was a 
 devout Catholic in the same sense that he was enthusiastic 
 about anything, — that is, he believed and obeyed exactly as 
 far as suited his own peculiar notions of comfort and happi- 
 ness. Beyond that, his scepticism stepped in and saved him 
 from inconvenience ; and though he might have been some- 
 what puzzled to reduce his faith to a rubric, still it answered 
 his purpose, and that was all he wanted. Such, in short, 
 was my valet, Mickey Free, and who, had not heavy injunc- 
 tions been laid on him as to silence and discretion, would 
 well have lightened my weary hours. 
 
 "Ah, then, Misther Charles!" said he, with a half- 
 suppressed yawn at the long period of probation his tongue 
 had been undergoing in silence, — " ah, then, but ye were 
 mighty near it ! " 
 
 " Near what ? " said I. 
 
 " Faith, then, myself does n't well know. Some say it 's 
 purgathory ; but it 's hard to tell."
 
 MICKEY FREE. 87 
 
 "I thought you were too good a Catholic, Mickey, to 
 show any doubts on the matter ? " 
 
 " May be I am ; may be I ain't," was the cautious reply. 
 
 " Would n't Father lioach explain any of your difficulties 
 for you, if you went over to him ? " 
 
 " Faix, it 's little I 'd mind his explainings." 
 
 " And why not ? " 
 
 "Easy enough. If you ax ould Miles there, without, what 
 does he be doing with all the powther and shot, would n't he 
 tell you he 's shooting the rooks, and the magpies, and some 
 other varmint ? But myself knows he sells it to Widow 
 Casey, at two-and-fourpence a pound ; so belikes, Father 
 Roach may be shooting away at the poor souls in purga- 
 thory, that all this time are enjoying the hoith of fine 
 living in heaven, ye understand." 
 
 " And you think that 's the way of it, Mickey ? " 
 
 " Troth, it 's likely. Anyhow, I know its not the place 
 they make it o\it." 
 
 " Why, how do you mean ? " 
 
 ''Well, then, I'll tell you, Misther Charles; but you 
 must not be saying anything about it afther, for I don't 
 like to talk about these kind of things." 
 
 Having pledged myself to the requisite silence and 
 secrecy, Mickey began : — 
 
 " jNIay be you heard tell of the way my father, rest his 
 soul wherever he is, came to his end. Well, I need n't mind 
 particulars, but, in short, he was murdered in Ballinasloe 
 one night, when he was baitin' the whole town with a 
 blackthorn stick he had ; more by token, a piece of a scythe 
 was stuck at the end of it, — a nate weapon, and one he was 
 mighty partial to ; but those murdering thieves, the cattle- 
 dealers, that never cared for diversion of any kind, fell on 
 him and broke his skull. 
 
 " Well, we had a very agreeable wake, and plenty of the 
 best of everything, and to spare, and I thought it was all 
 over; but somehow, though I paid Father Eoach fifteen 
 shillings, and made him mighty drunk, he always gave me 
 a black look wherever I met him, and when I took off my 
 hat, he 'd turn away his head displeased like. 
 
 " ' Murder and ages,' says I, ' what 's this for ? ' But as
 
 88 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 I 've a light heart, I bore up, and did n't think more about 
 it. One day, however, I was coming home from Athlone 
 market, by myself on the road, when Father Roach over- 
 took me. 'Devil a one a me 'ill take any notice of you 
 now,' says I, ' and we '11 see what '11 come out of it.' So 
 the priest rid up and looked me straight in the face. 
 
 " ' Mickey,' says he, — ' Mickey.' 
 
 " 'Father,' says I. 
 
 " ' Is it that way you salute your clargy,' says he, ' with 
 your caubeen on your head ? ' 
 
 " ' Faix,' says I, ' it 's little ye mind whether it 's an or 
 aff ; for you never take the trouble to say, " By your leave," 
 or '' Damn your soul ! " or any other politeness when we 
 meet.' 
 
 '' ' You 're an ungrateful creature,' says he ; ' and if you 
 only knew, you'd be trembling in your skin before me, 
 this minute.' 
 
 " ' Devil a tremble,' says I, ' after walking six miles this 
 way.' 
 
 " ' You 're an obstinate, hard-hearted sinner,' says he ; 
 ' and it 's no use in telling you.' 
 
 " ' Telling me what ? ' says I ; for I was getting curious 
 to make out what he meant. 
 
 "'Mickey,' says he, changing his voice, and putting his 
 head down close to me, — ' Mickey, I saw your father last 
 night.' 
 
 " ' The saints be merciful to us ! ' said I, ' did ye ? ' 
 
 " ' I did,' says he. 
 
 " ' Tear an ages,' says I, ' did he tell you what he did 
 with the new corduroys he bought in the fair ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh, then, you are a could-hearted creature ! ' says he, 
 ' and I '11 not lose time with you.' With that he was going 
 to ride away, when I took hold of the bridle. 
 
 " ' Father, darling,' says I, ' God pardon me, but them 
 breeches is goin' between me an' my night's rest ; but tell 
 me about my father ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh, then, he 's in a melancholy state ! ' 
 
 " ' Whereabouts is he ? ' says I. 
 
 " ' In purgathory,' says he ; ' but he won't be there long.' 
 
 " ' Well,' says I, ' that 's a comfort, anyhow.'
 
 MICKEY FREE. 89 
 
 " ' I am glad you think so,' says he ; ' but there 's more of 
 the other opinion.' 
 
 « ' What 's that ? ' says I. 
 
 " ' That hell 's worse.' 
 
 " ' Oh, melia-murther ! ' says I, ' is that it ? ' 
 
 " ' Ay, that 's it.' 
 
 " Well, I was so terrified and frightened, I said nothing 
 for some time, but trotted along beside the priest's horse. 
 
 " ' Father,' says I, ' how long will it be before they send 
 him where you know ? ' 
 
 *' ' It will not be long now,' says he, * for they 're tired 
 entirely with him ; they 've no peace night or day,' says he. 
 * Mickey, your father is a mighty hard man.' 
 
 " ' True for you. Father Roach,' says I to myself ; ' av he 
 had only the ould stick with the scythe in it, I wish them 
 joy of his company.' 
 
 '' '■ Mickey,' says he, ' I see you 're grieved, and I don't 
 wonder ; sure, it 's a great disgrace to a decent family.' 
 
 " * Troth, it is,' says I ; ' but my father always liked low 
 company. Could nothing be done for him now. Father 
 Eoach ? ' says I, looking up in the priest's face. 
 
 " < I 'm greatly afraid, Mickey, he was a bad man, a very 
 bad man.' 
 
 " * And ye think he '11 go there ? ' says I. 
 
 " ' Indeed, Mickey, I have my fears.' 
 
 " ' Upon my conscience,' says I, ' I believe you 're right ; 
 he was always a restless crayture.' 
 
 " ' But it does n't depind on him,' says the priest, crossly. 
 
 " ' And, then, who then ? ' says I. 
 
 " ' Upon yourself, Mickey Free,' says he, ' God pardon 
 you for it, too ! ' 
 
 '* ' Upon me ? ' says I. 
 
 " ' Troth, no less,' says he ; ' how many Masses was said 
 for your father's soul ; how many Aves ; how many 
 Paters ? Answer me.' 
 
 " ' Devil a one of me knows ! — may be twenty.' 
 
 " ' Twenty, twenty ! — no, nor one.' 
 
 " ' And why not ? ' says I ; ' what for would n't you be 
 helping a poor crayture out of trouble, when it would n't 
 cost you more nor a handful of prayers ? '
 
 90 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' Mickey, I see,' says he, in a solemn tone, 'you 're worse 
 nor a haythen ; but ye could n't be other, ye never come to 
 yer duties.' 
 
 " ' Well, Father,' says I, cooking very penitent, '■ how many 
 Masses would get him out ? ' 
 
 " ' Now you talk like a sensible man,' says he. * Now, 
 Mickey, I 've hopes for you. Let me see,' here he went 
 countin' upon his fingers, and numberin' to himself for five 
 minutes. 'Mickey/ says he, 'I've a batch coming out on 
 Tuesday week, and if you were to make great exertions, 
 perhaps your father could come with them ; that is, av they 
 have made no objections.' 
 
 " * And what for would they ? ' says I ; ' he was always 
 the hoith of company, and av singing 's allowed in them 
 parts — ' 
 
 " ' God forgive you, Mickey, but yer in a benighted state,' 
 says he, sighing. 
 
 " ' Well,' says I, ' how '11 we get him out on Tuesday week ? 
 For that 's bringing things to a focus.' 
 
 " ' Two Masses in the morning, fastin',' says Father Roach, 
 half aloud, 'is two, and two in the afternoon is four, and 
 two at vespers is six,' says he ; ' six Masses a day for nine 
 days is close by sixty Masses, — say sixty,' says he ; ' and 
 they '11 cost you — mind, Mickey, and don't be telling it 
 again, for it 's only to yourself I 'd make them so cheap — 
 a matter of three pounds.' 
 
 " ' Three pounds ! ' says I ; ' be-gorra ye might as well ax 
 me to give you the rock of Cashel.' 
 
 " ' I 'm sorry for ye, Mickey,' says he, gatherin' up the 
 reins to ride off, — ' I 'm sorry for ye ; and the time will 
 come when the neglect of your poor father will be a sore 
 stroke agin yourself.' 
 
 " ' Wait a bit, your reverence,' says I, — ' wait a bit. 
 Would forty shillings get him out ? ' 
 
 " ' Av course it would n't,' says he. 
 
 " ' May be,' says I, coaxing, — ' may be, av you said that his 
 son was a poor boy that lived by his indhustry, and the 
 times was bad — ' 
 
 " ' Not the least use,' says he. 
 
 " ' Arrah, but it 's hard-hearted they are,' thinks I. ' Well,
 
 MICKEY FREE. 91 
 
 see now, I '11 give you the money, but I can't afford it all at 
 onst ; but I '11 pay five shillings a week. Will that do ? ' 
 
 " ' I '11 do my endayvors,' says Father Roach ; ' and I '11 
 speak to them to treat him peaceably in the meantime.' 
 
 " ' Long life to yer reverence, and do. Well, here now, 
 liere's five hogs to begin with; and, musha, but I never 
 thought I 'd be spending my loose change that way.' 
 
 " Father Roach put the six tinpinnies in the pocket of 
 his black leather breeches, said something in Latin, bid me 
 good-morning, and rode off. 
 
 " Well, to make my story short, I worked late and early 
 to pay the five shillings a week, and I did do it for three 
 weeks regular ; then I brought four and fourpence ; then it 
 came down to one and tenpence halfpenny, then ninepence, 
 and at last I had nothing at all to bring. 
 
 '"Mickey Free,' says the priest, 'ye must stir yourself. 
 Your father is mighty displeased at the way you 've been 
 doing of late ; and av ye kept yer word, he 'd be near out 
 by this time.' 
 
 " ' Troth,' says I, ' it 's a very expensive place.' 
 
 " ' By coorse it is,' says he ; ' sure all the quality of the 
 land 's there. But, Mickey, my man, with a little exertion, 
 your father's business is done. What are you jingling in 
 your pocket there ? ' 
 
 '"It's ten shillings, your reverence, I have to buy seed 
 potatoes.' 
 
 " ' Hand it here, my son. Is n't it better your father 
 would be enjoying himself in paradise, than if ye were to 
 have all the potatoes in Ireland ? ' 
 
 " 'And how do ye know,' says I, 'he 's so near out ? ' 
 
 " ' How do I know, — how do I know, is it ? Did n't I see 
 him ? ' 
 
 " ' See him ! Tear an ages, was you down there again ? ' 
 
 " ' I was,' says he ; ' I was down there for three quarters 
 of an hour yesterday evening, getting out Luke Kennedy's 
 mother. Decent people the Kennedy's ; never spared 
 expense.' 
 
 " ' And ye seen my father ? ' says I. 
 
 " ' I did,' says he ; ' he had an ould flannel waistcoat on, 
 and a pipe sticking out of the pocket av it.'
 
 92 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' That 's him,' says I. ' Had he a hairy cap ? ' 
 
 " ' I did n't mind the cap,' says he ; ' but av coorse he 
 would n't have it on his head in that place.' 
 
 " ' Thrue for you,' says I. ' Did he speak to you ? ' 
 
 " ' He did,' says Father Roach ; ' he sj)oke very hard 
 about the way he was treated down there ; that they was 
 always jibin' and jeerin' him about drmk, and fightin', and 
 the course he led up here, and that it was a queer thing, for 
 the matter of ten shillings, he was to be kept there so long.' 
 
 " ' Well,' says I, taking out the ten shillings and counting 
 it with one hand, ' we must do our best, anyhow ; and ye 
 think this '11 get him out surely ? ' 
 
 " ' I know it will,' says he ; ' for when Luke's mother was 
 leaving the place, and yer father saw the door open, he 
 made a rush at it, and, be-gorra, before it was shut he got 
 his head and one shoulder outside av it, — so that, ye see, a 
 thrifle more '11 do it.' 
 
 " ' Faix, and yer reverence,' says I, ' you 've lightened my 
 heart this morning.' And I put my money back again in 
 my pocket. 
 
 " ' Why, what do you mean ? ' says he, growing very red, 
 for he was angry. 
 
 "'Just this,' says I, 'that I've saved my money; for av 
 it was my father you seen, and that he got his head and one 
 shoulder outside the door, oh, then, by the powers ! ' says I, 
 'the devil a jail or jailer from hell to Connaught id hould 
 him. So, Father Eoach, I wish you the top of the morning.' 
 And I went away laughing ; and from that day to this I 
 never heard more of purgathory ; and ye see, Master 
 Charles, I think I was right." 
 
 Scarcely had Mike concluded when my door was suddenly 
 burst open, and Sir Harry Boyle, without assuming any of 
 his usual precautions respecting silence and quiet, rushed 
 into the room, a broad grin upon his honest features, and 
 his eyes twinkling in a way that evidently showed me some- 
 thing had occurred to amuse him. 
 
 " By Jove, Charley, I must n't keep it from you ; it 's too 
 good a thing not to tell you. Do you remember that very 
 essenced young gentleman who accompanied Sir George 
 Dashwood from Dublin, as a kind of electioneering friend ? "
 
 MICKEY FREE. 93 
 
 " Do you mean Mr. Prettyman ? " 
 
 " The very man ; he was, you are aware, an under-secretary 
 in some government department. Well, it seems that he 
 had come down among us poor savages as much from motives 
 of learned research and scientific inquiry, as though we had 
 been South Sea Islanders ; report had gifted us humble 
 Galwayans with some very peculiar traits, and this gifted 
 individual resolved to record them. Whether the election 
 week might have sufficed his appetite for wonders I know 
 not ; but he was peaceably taking his departure from the 
 west on Saturday last, when Phil Macnamara met him, and 
 pressed him to dine that day with a few friends at his house. 
 You know Phil ; so that when I tell you Sam Burke, of 
 Greenmount, and Roger Doolan were of 'the party, I need 
 not say that the English traveller was not left to his own 
 unassisted imagination for his facts. Such anecdotes of our 
 habits and customs as they erammed him with, it would 
 appear, never were heard before ; nothing was too hot or 
 too heavy for the luckless cockney, who, when not sipping 
 his claret, was faithfully recording in his tablet the mems. 
 for a very brilliant and very original work on Ireland. 
 
 " * Fine country, splendid country ; glorious people, — 
 gifted, brave, intelligent, but not happy, — alas ! Mr. Mac- 
 namara, not happy. But we don't know you, gentlemen, — 
 we don't indeed, — at the other side of the Channel. Our 
 notions regarding you are far, very far from just.' 
 
 " ' I hope and trust,' said old Burke, ' you '11 help them 
 to a better understanding ere long.' 
 
 " ' Such, my dear sir, will be the proudest task of my life. 
 The facts I have heard here this evening have made so pro- 
 found an impression upon me that I burn for the moment 
 when I can make them known to the world at large. To 
 think — just to think that a portion of this beautiful island 
 should be steeped in poverty ; that the people not only live 
 upon the mere potatoes, but are absolutely obliged to wear 
 the skins for raiment, as Mr. Doolan has just mentioned 
 to me ! ' 
 
 " ' Which accounts for our cultivation of lumpers,' added 
 Mr. Doolan, ' they being the largest species of the root, and 
 best adapted for wearing apparel.'
 
 94 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' I should deem myself culpable — indeed I should — 
 did I not inform my countrymen upon the real condition of 
 this great country.' 
 
 " ' Why, after 3' our great opportunities for judging,' said 
 Phil, 'you ought to speak out. You've seen us in a way, I 
 may fairly affirm, few Englishmen have, and heard more.' 
 
 "'That's it, — that's the very thing, Mr. Macnamara. 
 I 've looked at you more closely ; I 've watched you more 
 narrowly ; I 've witnessed what the French call your vie 
 iiitime.' ^ 
 
 "'Begad you have,' said old Burke, with a grin, 'and 
 profited by it to the utmost.' 
 
 " ' I 've been a spectator of your election contests ; I 've 
 partaken of your hospitality ; I 've witnessed your popular 
 and national sports ; I 've been present at your weddings, 
 your fairs, your wakes ; but no, — I was forgetting, — I 
 never saw a wake.' 
 
 " ' jSTever saw a wake ? ' repeated each of the company 
 in turn, as though the gentleman was uttering a sentiment 
 of very dubious veracity. 
 
 " ' Kever,' said Mr, Prettyman, rather abashed at this 
 proof of his incapacity to instruct his English friends upon 
 ali matters of Irish interest, 
 
 " ' Well, then,' said Macnamara, ' with a blessing, we '11 
 show you one. Lord forbid that we should n't do the hon- 
 ors of our poor country to an intelligent foreigner when 
 he 's good enough to come among us.' 
 
 " ' Peter,' said he, turning to the servant behind him, 
 ' who 's dead hereabouts ? ' 
 
 " ' Sorra one, yer honor. Since the scrimmage at Por- 
 tumna the place is peaceable.' 
 
 " ' Who died lately in the neighborhood ? ' 
 
 " ' The widow Macbride, yer honor.' 
 
 " ' Could n't they take her up again, Peter ? My friend 
 here never saw a wake.' 
 
 " ' I 'm afeered not ; for it was the boys roasted her, and 
 she would n't be a decent corpse for to show a stranger,' 
 said Peter, in a whisper, 
 
 " Mr, Prettyman shuddered at these peaceful indications 
 of the neighborhood, and said nothing.
 
 MiCIvEY FREE. 95 
 
 " ' "Well, then, Peter, tell Jimmy Divine to take the old 
 musket in my bedroom, and go over to the Clunagh bog, 
 — he can't go wrong. There 's twelve families there that 
 never pay a halfpenny rent; and ichen it's done, let him 
 give notice to the neighborhood, and we '11 have a rousing 
 wake.' 
 
 " * You don't mean, Mr. Macnamara, — you don't mean 
 to say — ' stammered out the cockney, with a face like a 
 gliost. 
 
 " ' I only mean to say,' said Phil, laughing, ' that you 're 
 keeping the decanter very long at your right hand.' 
 
 " Burke contrived to interpose before the Englishman 
 could ask any explanation of what he had just heard, — 
 and for some minutes he could only wait in impatient 
 anxiety, — when a loud report of a gun close beside the 
 house attracted the attention of the guests. The next mo- 
 ment old Peter entered, his face radiant with smiles. 
 
 " ' Well, what 's that ? ' said Macnamara. 
 
 " ' 'T was Jimmy, yer honor. As the evening was rainy, 
 he said he 'd take one of the neighbors ; and he had n't to 
 go far, for Andy Moore was going home, and he brought 
 him down at once.' 
 
 " ' Did he shoot him ? ' said Mr. Prettyman, while cold 
 perspiration broke over his forehead. ' Did he murder the 
 man ? ' 
 
 " ' Sorra murder,' said Peter, disdainfully. ' But why 
 should n't he shoot him when the master bid him ? ' 
 
 " I need n't tell you more, Charley ; but in ten minutes 
 after, feigning some excuse to leave the room, the terri- 
 fied cockney took flight, and offering twenty guineas for a 
 horse to convey him to Athlone, he left Galway, fully con- 
 vinced that they don't yet know us on the other side of 
 the Channel."
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE JOURNEY. 
 
 The election concluded, the turmoil and excitement of 
 the contest over, all was fast resuming its accustomed 
 routine around us, when one morning my uncle informed 
 me that I was at length to leave my native county and 
 enter upon the great world as a student of Trinity College, 
 Dublin. Although long since in expectation of this event- 
 ful change, it was with no slight feeling of emotion I con- 
 templated the step which, removing me at once from all my 
 early friends and associations, was to surround me with new 
 companions and new influences, and place before me very 
 different objects of ambition from those I had hitherto been 
 regarding. 
 
 My destiny had been long ago decided. The army had 
 had its share of the family, who brought little more back with 
 them from the wars than a short allowance of members and 
 shattered constitutions ; the navy had prdved, on more than 
 one occasion, that the fate of the O'Malleys did not incline 
 to hanging ; so that, in Irish estimation, but one alternative 
 remained, and that was the bar. Besides, as my uncle re- 
 marked, with great truth and foresight, "Charley will be 
 tolerably independent of the public, at all events ; for even 
 if they never send him a brief, there 's law enough in the 
 family to last his time," — a rather novel reason, by-the-bye, 
 for making a man a lawyer, and which induced Sir Harry, 
 with his usual clearness, to observe to me : — 
 
 " Upon my conscience, boy, you are in luck. If there had 
 been a Bible in the house, I firmly believe he 'd have made 
 you a parson." 
 
 Considine alone, of all my uncle's advisers, did not concur 
 in this determination respecting me. He set forth, with an 
 eloquence that certainly converted me, that my head was 
 better calculated for bearing hard knocks than unravelling
 
 THE JOURNEY. 97 
 
 knotty points, that a shako would become it infinitely better 
 than a wig; and declared, roundly, that a boy who began so 
 well and had such very pretty notions about shooting Av^as 
 positively thrown away in the Four Courts. My uncle, 
 however, was firm, and as old Sir Harry suj)ported him, the 
 day was decided against us, Considine murmuring as he left 
 the room something that did not seem quite a brilliant an- 
 ticipation of the success awaiting me in my legal career. 
 As for myself, though only a silent spectator of the debate, 
 all my wishes were with the count. From my earliest boy- 
 hood a military life had been my strongest desire ; the roll 
 of the drum, and the shrill fife that played through the little 
 village, with its ragged troop of recruits following, had 
 charms for me I cannot describe ; and had a choice been 
 allowed me, I would infinitely rather have been a sergeant 
 in the dragoons than one of his Majesty's learned in the 
 law. If, then, such had been the cherished feeling of many 
 a year, how much more strongly were my aspirations 
 heightened by the events of the last few days. The tone 
 of superiority 1 had witnessed in Hammersley, whose con- 
 duct to me at parting had placed him high in my esteem ; 
 the quiet contempt of civilians implied in a thousand sly 
 ways ; the exalted estimate of his own profession, — at once 
 ■wounded my pride and stimulated my ambition ; and lastly, 
 more than all, the avowed preference that Lucy Dashwood 
 evinced for a military life, were stronger allies than my 
 own conviction needed to make me long for the army. So 
 completely did the thought possess me that I felt, if I were 
 not a soldier, I cared not what became of me. Life had no 
 other object of ambition for me than military renown, no 
 other success for which I cared to struggle, or would value 
 when obtained. " Aut Ccesar aut nullus,''^ thought I ; and 
 when my uncle determined T should be a lawyer, I neither 
 murmured nor objected, but hugged myself in the prophecy 
 of Considine that hinted pretty broadly, " the devil a stu- 
 pider fellow ever opened a brief ; but he 'd have made a 
 slashing light dragoon." 
 
 The preliminaries were not long in arranging. It was 
 settled that I should be immediately despatched to Dublin 
 to the care of Dr. Mooney, then a junior fellow in the Uni- 
 
 VOL. I. — 7
 
 98 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 versity, who would take me into his especial charge ; while 
 Sir Harry was to furnish me with a letter to his old friend, 
 Doctor Barret, whose advice and assistance he estimated at 
 a very high price. Provided with such documents I was 
 informed that the gates of knowledge were more than half 
 ajar for me, without an effort upon my part. One only 
 portion of all the arrangements I heard with anything 
 like pleasure ; it was decided that my man Mickey was 
 to accompany me to Dublin, and remain with me during 
 my stay. 
 
 It was upon a clear, sharp morning in January, of the 
 year 18 — , that I took my place upon the box-seat of the 
 old Galway mail and set out on my journey. My heart 
 was depressed, and my spirits were miserably low. I had 
 all that feeling of sadness which leave-taking inspires, and 
 no sustaining prospect to cheer me in the distance. For 
 the first time in my life, I had seen a tear glisten in my 
 poor uncle's eye, and heard his voice falter as he said, 
 " Farewell ! " Notwithstanding the difference of age, we 
 had been perfectly companions together ; and as I thought 
 now over all the thousand kindnesses and affectionate in- 
 
 r 
 
 stances of his love I had received, my heart gave way, and 
 the tears coursed slowly down my cheeks. I turned to give 
 one last look at the tall chimneys and the old woods, my 
 earliest friends ; but a turn of the road had shut out the 
 prospect, and thus I took my leave of Galway. 
 
 My friend Mickey, who sat behind with the guard, par- 
 ticipated but little in my feelings of regret. The potatoes 
 in the metropolis could scarcely be as wet as the lumpers in 
 Scariff ; he had heard that whiskey was not dearer, and 
 looked forward to the other delights of the capital with a 
 longing heart. Meanwhile, resolved that no portion of his 
 career should be lost, he was lightening the road by anec- 
 dote and song, and held an audience of four people, a very 
 crusty-looking old guard included, in roars of laughter. 
 Mike had contrived, with his usual savoir faire, to make 
 himself very agreeable to an extremely pretty-looking 
 country girl, around whose waist he had most lovingly 
 passed his arm under pretence of keeping her from falling, 
 and to whom, in the midst of all his attentions to the party
 
 THE JOmiNEF. 99 
 
 at large, he devoted himself considerably, pressing his suit 
 with all the aid of his native minstrelsy. 
 
 " Houkl me tight, Miss Matilda, dear." 
 
 "My name's Mary Brady, av ye plase." 
 
 "Ay, and I do plase. 
 
 ' Oh, Mary Bra<lj% you are my darlin', 
 You are my looking-glass from night till morning ; 
 I 'd rayther have ye without one farthen, 
 Nor Shusey Gallagher and her house and garden.' 
 
 May I never av I would n't then ; and ye need n't be 
 laughing. 
 
 " Is his honor at home ? " 
 
 This speech was addressed to a gaping country fellow 
 that leaned on his spade to see the coach pass. 
 
 " Is his honor at home ? I 've something for him from 
 Mr. Davern." 
 
 iMickey well knew that few western gentlemen were with- 
 out constant intercourse with the Athlone attorney. The 
 poor countryman accordingly hastened through the fence 
 and pursued the coach with all speed for above a mile, Mike 
 pretending all the time to be in the greatest anxiety for his 
 overtaking them, vmtil at last, as he stopped in despair, a 
 hearty roar of laughter told him that, in Mickey's parlance, 
 he was " sould." 
 
 " Taste it, my dear ; devil a harm it '11 do ye. It never 
 paid the king sixpence." 
 
 Here he filled a little horn vessel from a black bottle he 
 carried, accompanying the action with a song, the air to 
 which, if any of my readers feel disposed to sing it, I may 
 observe, bore a resemblance to the well-known, " A Fig for 
 Saint Denis of France." 
 
 POTTEEX, GOOD LUCK TO YE, DEAR. 
 
 Av I was a monarch in state, 
 Like Romulus or Julius Caysar, 
 
 With the best of fine victuals to eat, 
 And drink like great Nebuchadnezzar,
 
 100 CHARLES 0'MAI.LEY. 
 
 A rasher of bacon I 'd have, 
 
 And jiotatoes the finest was seen, sir, 
 And lor drink, it 's no tdaret I 'd crave, 
 
 But a keg of ould Mullens's potteeii, sir, 
 
 With the smell of the smoke on it still. 
 
 They talk of the Romans of ould. 
 
 Whom they say in their own times was frisky; 
 But trust me, to keep out the cowld. 
 
 The Romans at home here like whiskey. 
 Sure it warms both the head and the heart, 
 
 It 's the soul of all readin' and writin'; 
 It teaches both science and art. 
 
 And disposes for love or for fightin'. 
 
 Oh, potteen, good luck to ye, dear. 
 
 This very classic production, and the black bottle which 
 accompanied it, completely established the singer's pre-em- 
 inence in the company ; and I heard sundry sounds resem- 
 bling drinking, with frequent good wishes to the provider of 
 the feast, — " Long life to ye, Mr. Free," " Your health and 
 inclinations, Mr. Free," etc. ; to which Mr. Free responded 
 by drinking those of the company, " av they were vartuous." 
 The amicable relations thiis happily established promised a 
 very lasting reign, and would doubtless have enjoyed such, 
 had not a slight incident occurred which for a brief season 
 interrupted them. At the village where we stopped to break- 
 fast, three very venerable figures presented themselves for 
 places in the inside^ of the coach; they were habited in 
 black coats, breeches, and gaiters, wore hats of a very eccle- 
 siastic breadth in their brim, and had altogether the peculiar 
 air and bearing which distinguishes their calling, being no 
 less than three Roman Catholic prelates on their way to 
 Dublin to attend a convocation. While INIickey and his 
 friends, Avith the ready tact which every low Irishman pos- 
 sesses, immediately perceived who and Avhat these worship- 
 ful individuals were, another traveller who had just assumed 
 his place on the outside participated but little in the feel- 
 ings of reverence so manifestly displayed, but gave a sneer 
 of a very ominous kind as the skirt of the last black coat 
 disappeared within the coach. This latter individual was a
 
 THE JOURKEY. 101 
 
 short, thick-set, bandy-legged man of about fifty, with an 
 enormous nose, which, whatever its habitual coloring, on the 
 morning in question was of a brilliant purple. He wore a 
 blue coat with bright buttons, upon which some letters were 
 inscribed ; and around his neck was fastened a ribbon of the 
 same color, to which a medal was attached. This he dis- 
 played with something of ostentation whenever an opportu- 
 nity occurred, and seemed altogether a person who possessed 
 a most satisfactory impression of his own importance. In 
 fact, had not this feeling been participated in by others, Mr. 
 Billy Crow would never have been deputed by No. 13,476 to 
 carry their warrant down to the west country, and establish 
 the nucleus of an Orange Lodge in the town of Foxleigh ; 
 such being, in brief, the reason why he, a very well known 
 manufacturer of " leather continuations " in Dublin, had 
 ventured upon the perilous journey from which he was now 
 returning. Billy was going on his way to town rejoicing, 
 for he had had most brilliant success : the brethren had 
 feasted and feted him ; he had made several splendid ora- 
 tions, with the usual number of prophecies about the speedy 
 downfall of Eomanism, the inevitable return of Protestant 
 ascendancy, the pleasing prospect that with increased effort 
 and improved organization they should soon be able to have 
 everything their own way, and clear the Green Isle of the 
 horrible vermin Saint Patrick forgot when banishing the 
 others; and that if Daniel O'Connell (whom might the Lord 
 confound !) could only be hanged, and Sir Harcourt Lees 
 made Primate of all Ireland, there were still some hopes of 
 peace and prosperity to the country. 
 
 Mr. Crow had no sooner assumed his place upon the coach 
 than he saw that he was in the camp of the enemy. Hap- 
 pily for all parties, indeed, in Ireland, political differences 
 have so completely stamped the externals of each party that 
 he must be a man of small penetration who cannot, in the 
 first five minutes he is thrown among strangers, calculate 
 with considerable certainty whether it will be more condu- 
 cive to his happiness to sing, '• Croppies Lie Down," or " The 
 Battle of Eoss." As for Billy Crow, long life to him ! you 
 might as well attempt to pass a turkey upon IVI. Audubon 
 for a giraffe, as endeavor to impose a Papist upon him for a 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNTVER?!TTY OF C.atjfoRNIA 
 SANTA BARBARA
 
 102 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 true follower of King William. He could have given you 
 more generic distinctions to guide you in the decision than 
 ever did Cuvier to designate an antediluvian mammoth ; so 
 that no sooner had he seated himself upon the coach than 
 he buttoned up his great-coat, stuck his hands firmly in his 
 side-pockets, pursed up his lips, and looked altogether like 
 a man that, feeling himself out of his element, resolves to 
 " bide his time " in patience until chance may throw him 
 among more congenial associates. Mickey Free, who was 
 himself no mean proficient in reading a character, at one 
 glance saw his man, and began hammering his brains to see 
 if he could not overreach him. The small portmanteau 
 which contained Billy's wardrobe bore the conspicuous an- 
 nouncement of his name ; and as Mickey could read, this was 
 one important step already gained. 
 
 He accordingly took the first opportunity of seating him- 
 self beside him, and opened the conversation by some very 
 polite observation upon the other's wearing apparel, which 
 is always in the west considered a piece of very courteous 
 attention. By degrees the dialogue prospered, and Mickey 
 began to make some very important revelations about him- 
 self and his master, imtimating that the " state of the 
 country " was such that a man of his way of thinking had 
 no peace or quiet in it. 
 
 " That 's him there, forenent ye," said Mickey, " and a 
 better Protestant never hated Mass. Ye understand." 
 
 " What ! " said Billy, unbuttoning the collar of his coat 
 to get a fairer view at his companion ; " why, I thought 
 you were — " 
 
 Here he made some resemblance of the usual manner of 
 blessing oneself. 
 
 " Me, devil a more nor yourself, Mr. Crow." 
 
 " Why, do you know me, too ? " 
 
 " Troth, more knows you than you think." 
 
 Billy looked very much puzzled at all this ; at last he 
 said, — 
 
 " And ye tell me that your master there 's the right 
 sort ? " 
 
 ''Thrue blue," said Mike, with a wink, "and so is his 
 uncles."
 
 THE JOURNEY. 103 
 
 " And where are they, when they are at home ? " 
 
 "In Galway, no less ; but they're here now." 
 
 "•Where ? " 
 
 " Here." 
 
 At these words he gave a knock of his heel to the coach, 
 as if to intimate their "whereabouts." 
 
 " You don't mean in the coach, do ye ? " 
 
 "To be sure I do; and troth you can't know much of 
 the west, av ye don't know the three Mr. Trenches of 
 Tally bash ! — them 's they." 
 
 " You don't say so ? " 
 
 " Faix, but I do." 
 
 " May I never drink the 12th of July if I did n't think 
 they were priests." 
 
 " Priests ! " said Mickey, in a roar of laughter, — " priests ! " 
 
 " Just priests ! " 
 
 " Be-gorra, though, ye had better keep that to yourself ; 
 for they 're not the men to have that same said to them." 
 
 " Of course I would n't offend them," said Mr. Crow ; 
 " faith, it 's not me would cast reflections upon such real 
 out-and-outers as they are. And where are they going 
 now ? " 
 
 " To Dublin straight ; there 's to be a grand lodge next 
 week. But sure Mr. Crow knows better than me." 
 
 Billy after this became silent. A moody revery seemed 
 to steal over him ; and he was evidently displeased with 
 himself for his want of tact in not discovering the three 
 Mr. Trenches of Tallybash, though he only caught sight of 
 their backs. 
 
 Mickey Free interrupted not the frame of mind in which 
 he saw conviction was slowly working its way, but by 
 gently humming in an undertone the loyal melody of 
 "Croppies Lie Down," fanned the flame he had so dexter- 
 ously kindled. At length they reached the small town of 
 Kinnegad. While the coach changed horses, Mr. Crow lost 
 not a moment in descending from the top, and rushing into 
 the little inn, disappeared for a few moments. When he 
 again issued forth, he carried a smoking tumbler of whiskey 
 punch, which he continued to stir with a spoon. As he 
 approached the coach-door he tapped gently with his
 
 104 CHARLES O'MALLEY 
 
 knuckles ; upon wliicli the reverend prelate of Marouia, or 
 Mesopotamia, I forget which, inquired what he wanted. 
 
 "I ask your pardon, gentlemen," said Billy, "but I 
 thought 1 'd make bold to ask you to take something warm 
 this cold day." 
 
 " Many thanks, my good friend ; but we never do," said 
 a bland voice from within. 
 
 " I understand," said Billy, with a sly wink ; " but there 
 are circumstances now and then, — and one might for the 
 honor of the cause, you know. Just put it to your lips, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 " Excuse me," said a very rosy-cheeked little prelate, 
 "but nothing stronger than water — " 
 
 " Botheration," thought Billy, as he regarded the speak- 
 er's nose. " But I thought," said he, aloud, " that you 
 would not refuse this." 
 
 Here he made a peculiar manifestation in the air, which, 
 whatever respect and reverence it might carry to the honest 
 brethren of 13,476, seemed only to increase the wonder and 
 astonishment of the bishops. 
 
 " What does he mean ? " said one. 
 
 " Is he mad ? " said another. 
 
 " Tear and ages," said Mr. Crow, getting quite impatient 
 at the slowness of his friends' perception, — " tear and 
 ages, I'm one of yourselves." 
 
 " One of us," said the three in chorus, — " one of us ? " 
 
 " Ay, to be sure," here he took a long pull at the punch, 
 — " to be sure I am ; here 's ' No surrender,' your souls ! 
 whoop — " a loud yell accompanying the toast as he drank 
 it. 
 
 " Do you mean to insult us ? " said Father P . 
 
 " Guard, take the fellow." 
 
 " Are we to be outraged in this manner ? " chorussed the 
 priests. 
 
 " ' July the 1st, in Oldbridge town,' " sang Billy, " and 
 here it is, ' The glorious, pious, and immortal memory of 
 the great and good — ' " 
 
 " Guard ! Where is the guard ? " 
 
 " ' And good King William, that saved us from 
 Popery — ' "
 
 THE JOURNEY. 
 
 105 
 
 " Coachman ! Guard ! " screamed Father — — . 
 
 " ' Brass money — ' " 
 
 " Policeman ! policeman ! " shouted the priests. 
 
 " ' Brass money and wooden shoes ; ' devil may care who 
 hears me ! " said Billy, who, supposing that the three Mr, 
 Trenches were skulking the avowal of their principles, re- 
 solved to assert the pre-eminence of the great cause single- 
 handed and alone. 
 
 " ' Here 's the Pope in the pillory, and the Devil pelting 
 him with priests.' " 
 
 At these words a kick from behind apprised the loyal 
 champion that a very ragged auditory, who for some time 
 past had not well understood the gist of his eloquence, had 
 at length comprehended enough to be angry. Ce n^est que 
 le premier pas qui coute, certainly, in an Irish row. "The 
 merest urchin may light the train ; one handful of mud 
 often ignites a shindy that ends in a most bloody battle."
 
 106 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 And here, no sooner did the vis-a-tergo impel Billy forward 
 than a severe rap of a closed fist in the eye drove him back, 
 and in one instant he became the centre to a periphery of 
 kicks, cuffs, pullings, and haulings that left the poor 
 deputy-grand not only orange, but blue. 
 
 He fought manfully, but numbers carried the day ; and 
 wlien the coach drove off, which it did at last without him, 
 the last thing visible to the outsides was the figure of Mr. 
 Crow, — whose hat, minus the crown, had been driven over 
 his head down upon his neck, where it remained like a dress 
 cravat, — buffeting a mob of ragged vagabonds who had so 
 completely metamorphosed the unfortunate man with mud 
 and bruises that a committee of the grand lodge might 
 actually have been unable to identify him. 
 
 As for Mickey and his friends behind, their mirth knew 
 no bounds ; and except the respectable insides, there was 
 not an individual about the coach who ceased to think of 
 and laugh at the incident till we arrived in Dublin and 
 drew up at the Hibernian in Dawson Street.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 DUBLIN. 
 
 No sooner had I arrived in Dublin than my first care was 
 to present myself to Dr. Mooney, by whom I was received 
 in the most cordial manner. In fact, in my utter igno- 
 rance of such persons, I had imagined a college fellow to 
 be a character necessarily severe and unbending ; and as 
 the only two very great people I had ever seen in my life 
 were the Archbishop of Tuam and the chief-baron when on 
 circuit, I pictured to myself that a university fellow was, 
 in all probability, a cross between the two, and feared him 
 accordingly. 
 
 The doctor read over my uncle's letter attentively, invited 
 me to partake of his breakfast, and then entered upon some- 
 thing like an account of the life before me ; for which Sir 
 Harry Boyle had, however, in some degree prepared me. 
 
 ''Your uncle, I find, wishes you to live in college, — perhaps 
 it is better, too, — so that I must look out for chambers for 
 you. Let me see : it will be rather diificult, just now, to 
 find them." Here he fell for some moments into a musing 
 fit, and merely muttered a few broken sentences, as : " To be 
 sure, if other chambers could be had — but then — and after 
 all, perhaps, as he is young — besides. Prank will certainly 
 be expelled before long, and then he will have them all to 
 himself. I say, O'Malley, I believe I must quarter you for 
 the present with a rather wild companion ; but as your uncle 
 says you 're a prudent fellow," — here he smiled very much, 
 as if my uncle had not said any such thing, — " why, you 
 must only take the better care of yourself until we can 
 make some better arrangement. My pupil, Frank Webber, 
 is at this moment in want of a ' chum,' as the phrase is, — his 
 last three having only been domesticated with him for as 
 many weeks ; so that until we find you a more quiet resting- 
 place, you may take up your abode with him."
 
 108 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 During breakfast, the doctor proceeded to inform me that 
 my destined companion was a young man of excellent family 
 and good fortune who, with very considerable talents and 
 acquirements, preferred a life of rackety and careless dissi- 
 pation to prospects of great success in public life, which his 
 connection and family might have secured for him. That he. 
 had been originally entered at Oxford, which he was obliged 
 to leave ; then tried Cambridge, from which he escaped 
 expulsion by being rusticated, — that is, having incurred a 
 sentence of temporary banishment ; and lastly, was endeav- 
 oring, with what he himself believed to be a total reforma- 
 tion, to stumble on to a degree in the " silent sister." 
 
 "This is his third year," said the doctor, "and he is only 
 a freshman, having lost every examination, with abilities 
 enough to sweep the university of its prizes. But come 
 over now, and I '11 present you to him." 
 
 I followed him down-stairs, across the court to an angle 
 of the old square where, up the first floor left, to use the 
 college direction, stood the name of Mr. Webber, a large 
 No. 2 being conspicuously painted in the middle of the door 
 and not over it, as is usually the custom. As we reached 
 the spot, the observations of my companion were lost to me 
 in the tremendous noise and uproar that resounded from 
 within. It seemed as if a number of people were fighting 
 pretty much as a banditti in a melodrama do, with consid- 
 erable more of confusion than requisite ; a fiddle and a 
 French horn also lent their assistance to shouts and cries 
 which, to say the best, were not exactly the aids to study I 
 expected in such a place. 
 
 Three times was the bell pulled with a vigor that threat- 
 ened its downfall, when at last, as the jingle of "it rose above 
 all other noises, suddenly all became hushed and still ; a 
 momentary pause succeeded, and the door was opened by 
 a very respectable looking servant who, recognizing the 
 doctor, at once introduced us into the apartment where 
 Mr. Webber was sitting. 
 
 In a large and very handsomely furnished room, where 
 Brussels carpeting and softly cushioned sofas contrasted 
 strangely with the meagre and comfortless chambers of the 
 doctor, sat a young man at a small breakfast-table beside
 
 DUBLIN. 109 
 
 the fire. He was attired in a silk dressing-gown and black 
 velvet slipi^ers, and supported his forehead upon a hand of 
 most lady-like whiteness, whose fingers were absolutely 
 covered with rings of great beauty and price. His long 
 silky brown hair fell in rich profusion upon the back of 
 his neck and over his arm, and the whole air and attitude 
 was one which a painter might have copied. So intent was 
 he upon the volume before him that he never raised his 
 head at our approach, but continued to read aloud, totally 
 unaware of our presence. 
 
 " Dr. Mooney, sir," said the servant. 
 
 " Ton dapamei/ bominos, pr-osephe, crmie Agamemnon,^' 
 repeated the student, in an ecstasy, and not paying the 
 slightest attention to the announcement. 
 
 " Dr. Mooney, sir," repeated the servant, in a louder tone, 
 while the doctor looked around on every side for an expla- 
 nation of the late uproar, with a face of the most puzzled 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Be dakiown para thina dolekosJcion enlcos^^ said Mr. 
 Webber, finishing a cup of coffee at a draught. 
 
 " Well, Webber, hard at work I see," said the doctor. 
 
 " Ah, Doctor, I beg pardon ! Have j'ou been long here ? " 
 said the most soft and insinuating voice, while the speaker 
 passed his taper fingers across his brow, as if to dissipate 
 the traces of deep thought and study. 
 
 While the doctor presented me to my future companion, 
 I could perceive, in the restless and searching look he threw 
 around, that the fracas he had so lately heard was still an 
 unexplained and vexata questio in his mind. 
 
 " May I offer you a cup of coffee, IVIr. O'Malley ? " said 
 the youth, with an air of almost timid bashfulness. " The 
 doctor, I know, breakfasts at a very early hour."' 
 
 " I say, Webber," said the doctor, who could no longer 
 restrain his curiosity, '' what an awful row I heard here as 
 I came up to the door. I thought Bedlam was broke loose. 
 What could it have been ? " 
 
 "Ah, you heard it too, sir," said Mr. Webber, smiling 
 most benignly. 
 
 " Hear it ? To be sure T did. O'Malley and I could not 
 hear ourselves talking with the uproar."
 
 110 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, it is very provoking ; but then, what 's to 
 be done ? One can't complain, under the circumstances." 
 
 " Why, what do you mean ? " said Mooney, anxiously. 
 
 " Nothing, sir ; nothing. I 'd much rather you 'd. not ask 
 me-f for after all, I '11 change my chambers." 
 
 " But why ? Explain this at once. I insist upon it." 
 
 " Can I depend upon the discretion of your you.ng 
 friend ? " said Mr. Webber, gravely. 
 
 "Perfectly," said the doctor, now wound up to the great- 
 est anxiety to learn a secret. 
 
 "And you'll promise not to mention the thing except 
 among your friends ? " 
 
 " I do," said the doctor. 
 
 "Well, then," said he, in a low and confident whisper, 
 "it's the dean." 
 
 " The dean ! " said Mooney, with a start. " The dean ! 
 Why, how can it be the dean ? " 
 
 " Too true," said Mr. Webber, making a sign of drinking, 
 — " too true, Doctor. And then, the moment he is so, he 
 begins smashing the furniture. Never was anything heard 
 like it. As for me, as I am now become a reading man, I 
 must go elsewhere." 
 
 Now, it so chanced that the worthy dean, who nlbeit a 
 man of most abstemious habits, possessed a nose which, in 
 color and development; was a most unfortunate witness to 
 call to character, and as Mooney heard Webber narrate cir- 
 cumstantially the frightful excesses of the great functionary, 
 I saw that something like conviction was stealing over him. 
 
 " You '11, of course, never speak of this except to your 
 most intimate friends," said Webber. 
 
 "Of course not," said the doctor, as he shook his hand 
 warmly, and prepared to leave the room. " O'jMalley, I 
 leave you here," said he ; " Webber and you can talk over 
 your arrangements." 
 
 Webber followed the doctor to the door, whispered some- 
 thing in his ear, to which the other replied, " Very well, I 
 will write; but if your father sends the money, I must 
 insist — " The rest was lost in protestations and profes- 
 sions of the most fervent kind, amidst which the door was 
 shut, and Mr. Webber returned to the room.
 
 DUBLIN. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Short as was the interspace from the door without to the 
 room within, it was still ample enough to effect a very- 
 thorough and remarkable change in the whole external 
 appeai'ance of Mr. Frank Webber; for scarcely had the 
 oaken panel shut out the doctor, when he appeared no 
 longer the shy, timid, and silvery-toned gentleman of five 
 minutes before, but dashing boldly forward, he seized a 
 k^y-bugle that lay hid beneath a sofa-cushion and blew a 
 tremendous blast. 
 
 "Come forth, ye demons of the lower world," said he, 
 drawing a cloth from a large table, and discovering the 
 figures of three young men coiled up beneath. "Come 
 forth, and fear not, most timorous freshmen that ye are," 
 said he, unlocking a pantry, and liberating two others. 
 "Gentlemen, let me introduce to your acquaintance Mr. 
 O'Malley. My chum, gentlemen. Mr. O'Malley, that is 
 Harry Nesbitt, who has been in college since the days of 
 old Perpendicular, and numbers more cautions than any
 
 112 CHARLES O'MAXLEY. 
 
 man who ever had his name on the books. Here is my 
 particular friend, Cecil Cavendish, the only man who could 
 ever devil kidneys. Captain Power, Mr. O'Malley, a dash- 
 ing dragoon, as you see ; aide-de-camp to his Excellency the 
 Lord Lieutenant, and love-maker-general to Merrion Square 
 West. These," said he, pointing to the late denizens of the 
 pantry, ''are jibs whose names are neither known to the 
 proctor nor the police-office ; but with due regard to their 
 education and morals, we don't despair." 
 
 "By no means," said Power; "but come, let us resume 
 our game." At these words he took a folio atlas of maps 
 from a small table, and displayed beneath a pack of cards, 
 dealt as if for whist. The two gentlemen to whom I was 
 introduced by name returned to their places ; the unknown 
 two put on their boxing gloves, and all resumed the hilarity 
 which Dr. Mooney's advent had so suddenly interrupted. 
 
 " Where 's Moore ? " said Webber, as he once more seated 
 himself at his breakfast. 
 
 " Making a spatch-cock, sir," said the servant. 
 
 At the same instant, a little, dapper, jovial-looking per- 
 sonage appeared w^ith the dish in question. 
 
 "Mr. O'Malley, Mr. Moore, the gentleman who, by re- 
 peated remonstrances to the board, has succeeded in getting 
 eatable food for the inhabitants of this penitentiary, and has 
 the honored reputation of reforming the commons of college. " 
 
 " Anything to Godfrey O'Malley, may I ask, sir ? " said 
 Moore. 
 
 " His nephew," I replied. 
 
 " Which of you winged the gentleman the other day for 
 not passing the decanter, or something of that sort ? " 
 
 " If you mean the affair with Mr. Bodkin, it was I." 
 
 " Glorious, that ; begad, I thought you were one of us. I 
 say. Power, it was he pinked Bodkin." 
 
 " Ah, indeed," said Power, not turning his head from his 
 game , " a pretty shot, I heard, — two by honors, — and hit 
 him fairly, — the odd trick. Hammersley mentioned the 
 thing to me." 
 
 " Oh, is he in town ? " said I. 
 
 " No ; he sailed for Portsmouth yesterday. He is to join 
 the 11th — game. I say, Webber, you 've lost the rubber."
 
 DUBLIN. 113 
 
 " Double or quit, and a dinner at Dunleary," said Webber. 
 " We must show O'Malley, — confound the Mister ! — some- 
 thing of the place." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 The whist was resumed ; the boxers, now refreshed by a 
 leg of the spatch-cock, returned to their gloves ; Mr. Moore 
 took up his violin ; Mr. Webber his French horn ; and I was 
 left the only unemployed man in the company. 
 
 " I say, Power, you 'd better bring the drag over here for 
 us ; we can all go down together." 
 
 " I must inform you," said Cavendish, " that, thanks to 
 your philanthropic efforts of last night, the passage from 
 Grafton Street to Stephen's Green is impracticable." A 
 tremendous roar of laughter followed this announcement ; 
 and though at the time the cause was unknown to me, I may 
 as well mention it here, as I subsequently learned it from 
 my companions. 
 
 Among the many peculiar tastes which distinguished Mr. 
 Francis Webber was an extraordinary fancy for street- 
 begging. He had, over and over, won large sums upon his 
 success in that difficult walk ; and so perfect were his dis- 
 guises, — both of dress, voice, and manner, — that he actually 
 at one time succeeded in obtaining charity from his very op- 
 ponent in the Avager. He wrote ballads with the greatest 
 facility, and sang them with infinite pathos and humor ; and 
 the old woman at the corner of College Green was certain of 
 an audience when the severity of the night would leave all 
 other minstrelsy deserted. As these feats of jonglerie 
 usually terminated in a row, it was a most amusing part of 
 the transaction to see the singer's part taken by the mob 
 against the college men, who, growing impatient to carry him 
 off to supper somewhere, would invariably be obliged to 
 have a fight for the booty. 
 
 Now it chanced that a few evenings before, Mr. Webber 
 was returning with a pocket well lined with copper from a 
 musical reunion he had held at the corner of York Street, 
 when the idea struck him to stop at the end of Grafton 
 Street, where a huge stone grating at that time exhibited — 
 perhaps it exhibits still — the descent to one of the great 
 main sewers of the city.
 
 114 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 The light was shining brightly from a pastrycook's shop, 
 and showed the large bars of stone between which the muddy 
 water was rushing rapidly down and plashing iu the torrent 
 that ran boisterously several feet beneath. 
 
 To stop in the street of any crowded city is, under any 
 circumstances, an invitation to others to do likewise which 
 is rarely unaccepted ; but when in addition to this you 
 stand fixedly in one spot and regard with stern intensity 
 any object near you, the chances are ten to one that you 
 have several companions in your curiosity before a minute 
 expires. 
 
 Now, Webber, who had at first stood still without any 
 peculiar thought in view, no sooner perceived that he was 
 joined by others than the idea of making something out of 
 it immediately occurred to him. 
 
 " What is it, agra ? " inquired an old woman, very much 
 in his own style of dress, pulling at the hood of his cloak. 
 
 " And can't you see for yourself, darling ? " replied he, 
 sharply, as he knelt down and looked most intensely at the 
 sewer. 
 
 " Are ye long there, avick ? " inquired he of an imaginary 
 individual below, and then waiting as if for a reply, said, 
 " Two hours ! Blessed Virgin, he 's two hours in the 
 drain ! " 
 
 By this time the crowd had reached entirely across the 
 street, and the crushing and squeezing to get near the im- 
 portant spot was awful. 
 
 " Where did he come from ? " '' Who is he ? " " How 
 did he get there ? " were questions on every side ; and va- 
 rious surmises were afloat till Webber, rising from his knees, 
 said, in a mysterious whisper, to those nearest him, " He 's 
 made his escape to-night out o' Newgate by the big drain, 
 and lost his way ; he was looking for the Lilfey, and took 
 the wrong turn." 
 
 To an Irish mob what appeal could equal this ? A cul- 
 prit at any time has his claim upon their sympathy ; but let 
 him be caught in the very act of cheating the authorities 
 and evading the law, and his popularity knows no bounds. 
 Webber knew this well, and as the mob thickened around 
 him sustained an imaginary conversation that Savage Landor
 
 DUBLIN. 115 
 
 might have envied, imparting now and then such hints con- 
 cerning the runaway as raised their interest to the highest 
 pitch, and fifty different versions were related on all sides, 
 — of the crime he was guilty of, the sentence that was passed 
 on him, and the day he was to suffer. 
 
 " Do you see the light, dear ? " said Webber, as some 
 ingeniously benevolent individual had lowered down a can- 
 dle with a string, — " do ye see the light ? Oh, he 's fainted, 
 the creature ! " A cry of horror burst forth from the crowd 
 at these words, followed by a universal shout of, ''Break 
 open the street." 
 
 Pickaxes, shovels, spades, and crowbars seemed absolutely 
 the walking accompaniments of the crowd, so suddenly did 
 they appear upon the field of action ; and the work of exhu- 
 mation was begun with a vigor that speedily covered nearly 
 half of the street with mud and paving-stones. Parties re- 
 lieved each other at the task, and ere half an hour a hole 
 capable of containing a mail-coach was yawning in one of 
 the most frequented thoroughfares of Dublin. Meanwhile, 
 as no appearance of the culprit could be had, dreadful con- 
 jectures as to his fate began to gain ground. By tliis time 
 the authorities had received intimation of what was going 
 forward, and attempted to disperse the crowd ; but Webber, 
 who still continued to conduct the prosecution, called on 
 them to resist the police and save the poor creature. And 
 now began a most terrific fray : the stones, forming a ready 
 weapon, were hurled at the unprepared constables, who on 
 their side fought manfully, but against superior numbers ; 
 so that at last it was only by the aid of a military force the 
 mob could be dispersed, and a riot which had assumed a 
 very serious character got under. Meanwhile Webber had 
 reached his chambers, changed his costume, and was relating 
 over a supper-table the narrative of his philanthropy to a 
 very admiring circle of his friends. 
 
 Such was my chum, Frank Webber; and as this was the 
 first anecdote I had heard of him, I relate it here that my 
 readers may be in possession of the grounds upon which my 
 opinion of that celebrated character was founded, while yet 
 our acquaintance was in its infancy.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CAPTAIN POWKB. 
 
 Within a few weeks after my arrival in town I had be- 
 come a matriculated student of the university, and the 
 possessor of chambers within its walls in conjunction with 
 the sage and prudent gentleman I have introduced to my 
 readers in the last chapter. Had my intentions on entering 
 college been of the most studious and regular kind, the com- 
 panion into whose society I was then immediately thrown 
 would have quickly dissipated them. He voted morning 
 chapels a bore, Greek lectures a humbug, examinations a 
 farce, and pronounced the statute-book, with its attendant 
 train of fines and punishment, an " unclean thing." With 
 all my country habits and predilections fresh upon me, that 
 I was an easily-won disciple to his code need not be won- 
 dered at ; and indeed ere many days had passed over, my 
 thorough indifference to all college rules and regulations 
 had given me a high place in the esteem of Webber and his 
 friends. As for myself, I was most agreeably surprised to 
 find that what I had looked forward to as a very melancholy 
 banishment, was likely to prove a most agreeable sojourn. 
 Under Webber's directions there was no hour of the day 
 that hung heavily upon our hands. We rose about eleven 
 and breakfasted, after which succeeded fencing, sparring, 
 billiards, or tennis in the park ; about three, got on horse- 
 back, and either cantered in the Phoenix or about the squares 
 till visiting time ; after which, made our calls, and then 
 dressed for dinner, which we never thought of taking at com- 
 mons, but had it from Morrison's, — we both being reported 
 sick in the dean's list, and thereby exempt from the routine 
 fare of the fellows' table. In the evening our occupations 
 became still more pressing ; there were balls, suppers, Avhist 
 parties, rows at the theatre, shindies in the street, devilled 
 drumsticks at Hayes's, select oyster parties at the Carling-
 
 CAPTAIN POWER. 117 
 
 ford. — in fact, every known method of remaining up all night, 
 and appearing both pale and penitent the following morning. 
 
 Webber had a large acquaintance in Dublin, and soon 
 made me known to them all. Among others, the officers of 
 the — th Light Dragoons, in which regiment Power was cap- 
 tain, were his particular friends ; and we had frequent invi- 
 tations to dine at their mess. There it was first that military 
 life presented itself to me in its most attractive possible 
 form, and heightened the passion I had already so strongly 
 conceived for the army. Power, above all others, took my 
 fancy. He was a gay, dashing-looking, handsome fellow of 
 about eight-and-twenty, who had already seen some service, 
 having joined while his regiment was in Portugal ; was in 
 heart and soul a soldier ; and had that species of pride and 
 enthusiasm in all that regarded a military career that forms 
 no small part of the charm in the character of a young 
 officer. 
 
 I sat near him the second day we dined at the mess, and 
 was much pleased at many slight attentions in his manner 
 towards me. 
 
 " I called on you to-day, Mr. O'lMalley," said he, " in com- 
 pany with a friend who is most anxious to see you." 
 
 " Indeed," said I, " I did not hear of it." 
 
 " We left no cards, either of us, as we were determined to 
 make you out on another day; my companion has most 
 urgent reasons for seeing you. I see you are puzzled," said 
 he ; " and although I promised to keep his secret, I must 
 blab. It was Sir George Dashwood was with me ; he told 
 us of your most romantic adventure in the west, — and faith 
 there is no doubt you saved the lady's life." 
 
 " Was she worth the trouble of it ? " said the old major, 
 whose conjugal experiences imparted a very crusty tone to 
 the question. 
 
 " I think," said I, " I need only tell her name to convince 
 you of it." 
 
 " Here 's a bumper to her," said Power, filling his glass ; 
 "and every true man will follow my example." 
 
 When the hip-hipping which followed the toast was over, 
 I found myself enjoying no small share of the attention of 
 the party as the deliverer of Lucy Dashwood.
 
 118 CHARLES O'M^VLLEY. 
 
 " Sir George is cudgelling liis brain to show his gratitude 
 to you," said Power. 
 
 "What a pity, for the sake of his peace of mind, that 
 you 're not in the army," said another ; " it 's so easy to show 
 a man a delicate regard by a quick promotion." 
 
 " A devil of a pity for his own sake, too," said Power, 
 again ; " they 're going to make a lawyer of as strapping a 
 fellow as ever carried a sabretasche." 
 
 " A lawyer ! " cried out half a dozen together, pretty much 
 with the same tone and emphasis as though he had said a 
 twopenny postman ; " the devil they are." 
 
 " Cut the service at once ; you '11 get no promotion in it," 
 said the colonel ; " a fellow with a black eye like you would 
 look much better at the head of a squadron than of a string 
 of witnesses. Trust me, you 'd shine more in conducting 
 a picket than a prosecution." 
 
 " But if I can't ? " said I. 
 
 "Then take my plan," said Power, "and make it cut 
 you.'' 
 
 "Yours ? " said two or three in a breath, — "yours ? " 
 
 " Ay, mine ; did you never know that I was bred to the 
 bar? Come, come, if it was only for O'Malley's use and 
 benefit, as we say in the parchments, I must tell you the 
 story." 
 
 The claret was pushed briskly round, chairs drawn up to 
 fill any vacant spaces, and Power began his story. 
 
 "As I am not over long-winded, don't be scared at my 
 beginning my history somewhat far back. I began life that 
 most unlucky of all earthly contrivances for supplying casu- 
 alties in case anything may befall the heir of the house, — a 
 species of domestic jury-mast, only lugged out in a gale of 
 wind, — a younger son. My brother Tom, a thick-skulled, 
 pudding-headed dog, that had no taste for anything save his 
 dinner, took it into his wise head one morning that he would 
 go into the army, and although I had been originally des- 
 tined for a soldier, no sooner was his choice made than all 
 regard for my taste and inclination was forgotten ; and as 
 the family interest was only enough for one, it was decided 
 that I should be put in what is called a 'learned profession,' 
 and let push my fortune. ' Take your choice, Dick,' said my
 
 CAPTAIN POWER. 119 
 
 father, with a most benign smile, — 'take your choice, boy: 
 will you be a lawyer, a parson, or a doctor ? ' 
 
 " Had he said, ' Will you be put in the stocks, the pil- 
 lory, or publicly whipped ? ' I could not have looked more 
 blank than at the question. 
 
 " As a decent Protestant, he should have grudged me to 
 the Church ; as a philanthropist, he might have scrupled at 
 making me a physician ; but as he had lost deeply by law- 
 suits, there looked something very like a lurking malice in 
 sending me to the bar. Now, so far, I concurred with him ; 
 for having no gift for enduring either sermons or senna, I 
 thought I 'd make a bad administrator of either, and as I 
 was ever regarded in the family as rather of a shrewd and 
 quick turn, with a very natural taste for roguery, I began 
 to believe he was right, and that Nature intended me for 
 the circuit. 
 
 "From the hour my vocation was pronounced, it had 
 been happy for the family that they could have got rid 
 of me. A certain ambition to rise in my profession laid 
 hold on me, and I meditated all day and night how I was 
 to get on. Every trick, every subtle invention to cheat the 
 enemy that I could read of, I treasured up carefully, being 
 fully impressed with the notion that roguery meant law, 
 and equity was only another name for odd and even. 
 
 " My days were spent haranguing special juries of house- 
 maids and laundresses, cross-examining the cook, charging 
 the under-butler, and passing sentence of death upon the 
 pantry boy, who, I may add, was invariably hanged when 
 the court rose. 
 
 " If the mutton were overdone, or the turkey burned, I 
 drew up an indictment against old Margaret, and against 
 the' kitchen-maid as accomplice, and the family hungered 
 while I harangued ; and, in fact, into such disrepute did I 
 bring the legal profession, by the score of annoj^ance of 
 which I made it the vehicle, that my father got a kind 
 of holy horror of law courts, judges, and crown solicitors, 
 and absented himself from the assizes the same year, for 
 which, being a high sheriff, he paid a penalty of five hun- 
 dred pounds. 
 
 " The next day I was sent off in disgrace to Dublin to
 
 120 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 begin my career in college, and eat the usual quartos and 
 folios of beef and mutton which qualify a man for the 
 woolsack. 
 
 "Years rolled over, in which, after an ineffectual effort 
 to get through college, the only examination I ever got 
 being a jubilee for the king's birthday, I was at length 
 called to the Irish bar, and saluted by my friends as Coun- 
 sellor Power. The whole thing was so like a joke to me 
 that it kept me in laughter for three terms ; and in fact 
 it was the best thing could happen me, for I had nothing 
 else to do. The hall of the Four Courts was a very pleas- 
 ant lounge ; plenty of agreeable fellows that never earned 
 sixpence or were likely to do so. Then the circuits were 
 so many country excursions, that supplied fun of one kind 
 or other, but no profit. As for me, I was what was called 
 a good junior. I knew how to look after the waiters, to 
 inspect the decanting of the wine and the airing of the 
 claret, and was always attentive to the father of the cir- 
 cuit, — the crossest old villain that ever was a king's coun- 
 sel. These eminent qualities, and my being able to sing 
 a song in honor of our own bar, were recommendations 
 enough to make me a favorite, and I was one. 
 
 "Now, the reputation I obtained was pleasant enough 
 at first, but I began to wonder that I never got a brief. 
 Somehow, if it rained civil bills or declarations, devil a 
 one would fall upon my head ; and it seemed as if the 
 only object I had in life was to accompany the circuit, 
 a kind of deputy-assistant commissary-general, never ex- 
 pected to come into action. To be sure, I was not alone 
 in misfortune ; there were several promising youths, who 
 cut great figures in Trinity, in the same predicament, the 
 only difference being, that they attributed to jealousy what 
 I suspected was forgetfulness, for I don't think a single 
 attorney in Dublin kneAv one of us. 
 
 "' Two years passed over, and then I walked the hall with 
 a bag filled with newspapers to look like briefs, and was 
 regularly called by two or three criers from one court to 
 the other. It never took. Even when I used to seduce a 
 country friend to visit the courts, and get him into an ani- 
 mated conversation in a corner between two pillars, devil
 
 CAPTAIN PO^VER. 121 
 
 a one would believe him to be a client, and I was fairly- 
 nonplussed. 
 
 " ' How is a man ever to distinguish himself in such a 
 walk as this ? ' was my eternal question to myself every 
 morning, as I put on my wig, * My face is as well known 
 here as Lord Manners's.' Every one says, ' How are you, 
 Dick ? ' * How goes it, Power ? ' But except Holmes, that 
 said one morning as he passed me, ' Eh, always busy ? ' no 
 one alludes to the possibility of my having anything to do. 
 
 " * If I could only get a footing,' thought I, ' Lord, how 
 I 'd astonish them ! As the song says : — 
 
 " Perhaps a recruit 
 Might chance to shoo 
 
 Great General Buonaparte." 
 
 So,' said I to myself, ' I '11 make these halls ring for it some 
 day or other, if the occasion ever present itself.' But, faith, 
 it seemed as if some cunning solicitor overheard me and 
 told his associates, for they avoided me like a leprosy. The 
 home circuit I had adopted for some time past, for the very 
 palpable reason that being near town it was least costly, 
 and it had all the advantages of any other for me in getting 
 me nothing to do. Well, one morning we were in Philips- 
 town ; I was lying awake in bed, thinking how long it would 
 be before I 'd sum up resolution to cut the bar, where cer- 
 tainly my prospects were not the most cheering, when some 
 one tapped gently at my door. 
 
 " ' Come in,' said I. 
 
 " The waiter opened gently, and held out his hand with 
 a large roll of paper tied round with a piece of red tape. 
 
 " ' Counsellor,' said he, * handsel.' 
 
 " ' What do you mean ? ' said I, jumping out of bed. 
 * What is it, you villain ? ' 
 
 " ' A brief.' 
 
 " * A brief. So I see ; but it 's for Counsellor Kinshella, 
 below stairs.' That was the first name written on it. 
 
 '' ' Bethershin,' said he, ' Mr. M'Grath bid me give it to 
 you carefully.' 
 
 ''By this time I had opened the envelope and read my 
 own name at full length as junior counsel in the impor'
 
 122 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 tant case of Monaghan v. M'Shean, to be tried in tlie Eecord 
 Court at Ballinasloe. ' That will do/ said I, flinging it on 
 the bed with a careless air, as if it were a very every-day 
 matter with me. 
 
 " '■ But Counsellor, darlin', give us a thrifle to dhrink your 
 health with your first cause, and the Lord send you plenty 
 of them ! ' 
 
 " ' My first,' said I, with a smile of most ineffable com- 
 passion at his simplicity ; ' I 'm worn out with them. Do 
 you know, Peter, I was thinking seriously of leaving the 
 bar, when you came into the room ? Upon my conscience, 
 it 's in earnest I am.' 
 
 " Peter believed me, I think, for I saw him give a very 
 peculiar look as he pocketed his half-crown and left the 
 room. 
 
 " The door was scarcely closed when I gave way to the 
 free transport of my ecstasy ; there it lay at last, the long 
 looked-for, long wished-for object of all my happiness, and 
 though I well knew that a junior counsel has about as much 
 to do in the conducting of a case as a rusty handspike has 
 in a naval engagement, yet I suffered not such thoughts to 
 mar the current of my happiness. There was my name in 
 conjunction with the two mighty leaders on the circuit ; and 
 though they each pocketed a hundred, I doubt very much if 
 they received their briefs with one half the satisfaction. 
 My joy at length a little subdued, I opened the roll of 
 paper and began carefully to peruse about fifty pages of 
 narrative regarding a watercourse that once had turned a 
 mill ; but, from some reasons doubtless known to itself or 
 its friends, would do so no longer, and thus set two respect- 
 able neighbors at loggerheads, and involved them in a 
 record that had been now heard three several times. 
 
 " Quite forgetting the subordinate part I was destined to 
 fill, I opened the case in a most flowery oration, in which 
 I descanted upon the benefits accruing to mankind from 
 water-communication since the days of Noah ; remarking 
 upon the antiquity of mills, and especially of millers, and 
 consumed half an hour in a preamble of generalities that I 
 hoped would make a very consideral)le impression upon the 
 court. Just at the critical moment when I was about to
 
 CAPTAIN PG^^^:K. 123 
 
 enter more particularly into the case, three or four of the 
 great unbriefed came rattling into my room, and broke in 
 upon the oration. 
 
 " ' I say, Power,' said one, ' come and have an hour's 
 skating on the canal ; the courts are tilled, and we sha' n't 
 be missed.' 
 
 " ' Skate, my dear friend,' said I, in a most dolorous tone, 
 *out of the question ; see, I am chained to a devilish knotty 
 case with Kinshella and Mills.' 
 
 " ' Confound your humbugging,' said another, ' that may 
 do very well in Dublin for the attorneys, but not with us.' 
 
 " ' I don't well understand you,' I replied ; ' there is the 
 brief. Hennesy expects me to report upon it this evening, 
 and I am so hurried.' 
 
 " Here a very chorus of laughing broke forth, in which, 
 after several vain efforts to resist, I was forced to join, and 
 kept it up with the others. 
 
 " When our mirth was over, my friends scrutinized the 
 red-tape-tied packet, and pronounced it a real brief, with a 
 degree of surprise that certainly augured little for their 
 familiarity with such objects of natural history. 
 
 " When they had left the room, I leisurely examined the 
 all-important document, spreading it out before me upon 
 the table, and surveying it as a newly-anointed sovereign 
 might be supposed to contemplate a map of his dominions. 
 
 " 'At last,' said I to myself, — 'at last, and here is the 
 footstep to the woolsack.' For more than an hour I sat 
 motionless, my eyes fixed upon the outspread paper, lost 
 in a very maze of revery. The ambition which disappoint- 
 ments had crushed, and delay had chilled, came suddenly 
 back, and all my day-dreams of legal success, my cherished 
 aspirations after silk gowns and patents of precedence, 
 rushed once more upon me, and I was resolved to do or die. 
 Alas, a very little reflection sliowed me that the latter was 
 perfectly practicable ; but that, as a junior counsel, live 
 minutes of very common-place recitation was all my prov- 
 ince, 'and with the main business of the day I had about 
 as much to do as the call-boy of a playhouse has with the 
 success of a tragedy. 
 
 " ' My Lord, this is an action brought by Timothy Hig-
 
 124 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 gin/ etc., and down I go, no more to be remembered and 
 thought of than if I had never existed. How different it 
 would be if I were the leader ! Zounds, how I would 
 worry the witnesses, browbeat the evidence, cajole the jury, 
 and soften the judges ! If the Lord were, in His mercy, to 
 remove old IVIills and Kinshella before Tuesday, who knows 
 but my fortune might be made ? This supposition once 
 started, set me speculating upon all the possible chances 
 that might cut off two king's counsel in three days, and 
 left me fairly convinced that my own elevation was certain, 
 were they only removed from my path. 
 
 " For two whole days the thought never left my mind ; 
 and on the evening of the second day, I sat moodily over 
 my pint of port, in the Clonbrock Arms, with my friend 
 Timothy Casey, Captain in the North Cork Militia, for my 
 companion. 
 
 " ' Dick,' said Tim, * take off your wine, man. When does 
 this confounded trial come on ? ' 
 
 " ' To-morrow,' said I, with a deep groan. 
 
 " ' Well, well, and if it does, Avhat matter ? ' he said ; 
 'you '11 do well enough, never be afraid.' 
 
 " ' Alas ! ' said I, ' you don't understand the cause of my 
 depression.' I here entered upon an account of my sorrows, 
 which lasted for above an hour, and only concluded just as 
 a tremendous noise in the street without announced an 
 arrival. For several minutes such was the excitement in 
 the house, such running hither and thither, such confusion, 
 and such hubbub, that we could not make out who had 
 arrived. 
 
 " At last a door opened quite near us, and we saw the 
 waiter assisting a very portly -looking gentleman off with his 
 great-coat, assuring him the while that if he would only 
 walk into the coffee-room for ten minutes, the fire in his 
 apartment should be got ready. The stranger accordingly 
 entered and seated himself at the fireplace, having never 
 noticed that Casey and myself, the only persons there, 
 were in the room. 
 
 " 'I say, Phil, who is he ?' inqiiired. Casey of the waiter. 
 
 " ' Counsellor Mills, Captain,' said the waiter, and left the 
 room.
 
 CAPTAIN POWER. 125 
 
 " * That 's your friend,' said Casey. 
 
 "*I see,' said I; 'and I wish with all my heart he was 
 at home with his pretty wife, in Leeson Street.' 
 
 " ' Is she good-looking ? ' inquired Tiiru 
 
 " ' Devil a better,' said I ; ' and he 's as jealous as old 
 Nick.' 
 
 " ' Hem,' said Tim, ' mind your cue, and I '11 give him a 
 start.' Here he suddenly changed his whispering tone for 
 one in a louder key, and resumed : ' I say. Power, it will 
 make some work for ;you lawyers. But who can she be ? 
 that 's the question.' Here he took a much crumpled letter 
 from his pocket, and pretended to read : ' " A great sensa- 
 tion was created in the neighborhood of JVIerrion Square, 
 yesterday, by the sudden disappearance from her house 
 
 of the handsome Mrs. ." Confound it ! — what 's the 
 
 name ? What a hand he writes ! Hill, or Miles, or some- 
 thing like that, — " the lady of an eminent barrister, now on 
 circuit. The gay Lothario is, they say, the Hon. George 
 
 ." ' I was so thunderstruck at the rashness of the 
 
 stroke, I could say nothing ; while the old gentleman 
 started as if he had sat down on a pin. Casey, meanwhile, 
 went on. 
 
 " ' Hell and fury ! ' said the king's counsel, rushing over, 
 ' what is it you 're saying ? ' 
 
 " * You appear warm, old gentleman,' said Casey, putting 
 up the letter and rising from the table. 
 
 "'Show me that letter! — show me that infernal letter, 
 sir, this instant ! ' 
 
 " ' Show you my letter,' said Casey ; ' cool, that, anyhow. 
 You are certainly a good one.' 
 
 " ' Do you know me, sir ? Answer me that,' said the 
 lawyer, bursting with passion. 
 
 " * Not at present,' said Tim, quietly ; ' but I hope to do 
 so in the morning in explanation of your language and con- 
 duct.' A tremendous ringing of the bell here summoned 
 the waiter to the room. 
 
 "" ' Who is that — ' inquired the lawyer. The epithet he 
 judged it safe to leave unsaid, as he pointed to my friend 
 Casey. 
 
 " * Captain Casey, sir, the commanding ofi8.cer here.'
 
 126 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' Just so,' said Casey. * And very inucli at your service 
 any hour after five in the morning.' 
 
 " * Tlien you refuse, sir, to explain tlae paragraph I have 
 just heard you read ? ' 
 
 " ' Well done, old gentleman ; so you have been listening 
 to a private conversation I held with my friend here. In 
 that case we had better retire to our room.' So saying, he 
 ordered the waiter to send a fresh bottle and glasses to No. 
 14, and taking my arm, very politely wished Mr. Mills good- 
 night, and left the coffee-room. 
 
 " Before we had reached the top of the stairs the house was 
 once more in commotion. The new arrival had ordered out 
 fresh horses, and was hurrying every one in his impatience 
 to get away. In ten minutes the chaise rolled off from the 
 door ; and Casey, putting his head out of the window, wished 
 him a pleasant journey ; while turning to me, he said, — 
 
 " * There 's one of them out of the way for you, if we are 
 even obliged to fight the other.' 
 
 " The port was soon despatched, and with it went all the 
 scruples of conscience I had at first felt for the cruel ruse 
 we had just practised. Scarcely was the other bottle called 
 for when we heard the landlord calling out in a stentorian 
 voice, — 
 
 " ' Two horses for Goran Bridge to meet Counsellor 
 Kinshella.' 
 
 " ' That 's the other fellow ? ' said Casey. 
 
 " ' It is,' said I. 
 
 "'Then we must be stirring,' said he. 'Waiter, chaise 
 and pair in five minutes, — d'ye hear ? Power, my boy, I 
 don't Avant you ; stay here and study your brief. It 's 
 little trouble Counsellor Kinshella will give you in the 
 morning.' 
 
 "All he would tell me of his plans was that he didn't 
 mean any serious bodily harm to the counsellor, but that 
 certainly he was not likely to be heard of for twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 " ' Meanwhile, Power, go in and win, my boy,' said he ; 
 * such another walk over may never occur.' 
 
 "I must not make my story longer. The next morning 
 the great record of ]\Ionaghau v. M'Shean was called on.;
 
 CAPTAIN POWER. 127 
 
 and as the senior counsel were not present, the attorney 
 wished a postponement. I, however, was firni ; told the 
 court I was quite prepared, and with such an air of assur- 
 ance that I actually puzzled the attorney. The case was 
 accordingly opened by me in a very brilliant speech, and 
 the witnesses called ; but such was my unlucky ignorance 
 of the whole matter that I actually broke down the testi- 
 mony of our own, and fought like a Trojan for the credit 
 and character of the perjurers against us ! The judge 
 rubbed his eyes ; the jury looked amazed ; and the whole 
 bar laughed outright. However, on I went, blundering, 
 floundering, and foundering at every step ; and at half-past 
 four, amidst the greatest and most uproarious mirth of the 
 whole court, heard the jury deliver a verdict against us, just 
 as old Kinshella rushed into the court covered with mud 
 and spattered with clay. He had been sent for twenty miles 
 to make a will for Mr. Daly, of Daly's IVIount, who was sup- 
 posed to be at the point of death, but who, on his arrival, 
 threatened to shoot him for causing an alarm to his family 
 by such an imputation. 
 
 " The rest is soon told. They moved for a new trial, and 
 I moved out of the profession. I cut the bar, for it cut me. 
 I joined the gallant 14th as a volunteer ; and here I am with- 
 out a single regret, I must confess, that I did n't succeed in 
 the great record of Monaghan v. M'Shean." 
 
 Once more the claret Avent briskly round, and while we 
 canvassed Power's story, many an anecdote of military life 
 was told, as every instant increased the charm of that career 
 I longed for. 
 
 "Another cooper, Major," said Power. 
 
 "With all my heart," said the rosy little officer, as he 
 touched the bell behind him ; " and now let 's have a 
 song." 
 
 " Yes, Power," said three or four together ; " let us have 
 *The Irish Dragoon,' if it's only to convert your friend 
 0':.[alley there." 
 
 " Here goes, then," said Dick, taking off a bumper as he 
 began the following chant to the air of " Love is the Soul of 
 a gay Irishman" : —
 
 128 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 THE IRISH DRAGOON. 
 
 Oh, love is the soul of an Irish dragoon 
 In battle, in bivouac, or in saloon. 
 
 From the tip of his spur to his bright sabretasche. 
 With his soldierly gait and his bearing so high. 
 His gay laughing look and his light speaking eye, 
 He frowns at his rival, he ogles his wench, 
 He springs in his saddle and chasses the French, 
 
 With his jingling spur and his bright sabretasche. 
 
 His spirits are high, and he little knows care. 
 Whether sipping his claret or charging a square, 
 
 With his jingling spur and his bright sabretasche. 
 As ready to sing or to skirmish he 's found. 
 To take off his wine or to take up his ground ; 
 When the bugle may call him, how little he fears 
 To charge forth in column and beat the Mounseers, 
 
 With his jingling spur and his bright sabretasche. 
 
 When the battle is over, he gayly rides back 
 To cheer every soul in the night bivouac, 
 
 With his jingling spur and his Ijright sabretasche. 
 Oh, there you may see him in full glory crowned, 
 As he sits 'midst his friends on the hardly won ground, 
 And hear with what feeling the toast he will give, 
 As he drinks to the land where all Irishmen live. 
 
 With his jingling spur and his bright sabretasche. 
 
 It was late when we broke up ; but among all the recol- 
 lections of that pleasant evening none clung to me so forci- 
 bly, none sank so deeply in my heart, as the gay and careless 
 tone of Power's manly voice ; and as I fell asleep towards 
 morning, the Avords of " The Irish Dragoon " were floating 
 through my mind and followed me in my dreams.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE VICE-PROVOST. 
 
 I HAD now been for some weeks a resident within the 
 walls of the university, and yet had never presented my 
 letter of introduction to Dr. Barret. Somehow, my thoughts 
 and occupations had left nie little leisure to reflect upon my 
 college course, and I had not felt the necessity suggested 
 by ray friend Sir Harry, of having a supporter in the very 
 learned and gifted individual to whom I was accredited. 
 How long I might have continued in this state of indiffer- 
 ence it is hard to say, when chance brought about my 
 acquaintance with the doctor. 
 
 Were I not inditing a true history in this narrative of 
 my life, to the events and characters of which so many are 
 living witnesses, I should certainly fear to attempt anything 
 like a description of this very remarkable man ; so liable 
 would any sketch, however faint and imperfect, be to the 
 accusation of caricature, when all was so singular and so 
 eccentric. 
 
 Dr. Barret was, at the time I speak of, close upon seventy 
 years of age, scarcely five feet in height, and even that 
 diminutive stature lessened by a stoop. His face was thin, 
 pointed, and russet-colored ; his nose so aquiline as nearly 
 to meet his projecting chin, and his small gray eyes, red and 
 bleary, peered beneath his well-worn cap with a glance of 
 mingled fear and suspicion. His dress was a suit of the 
 rustiest black, threadbare, and patched in several places, 
 while a pair of large brown leather slippers, far too big for 
 his feet, imparted a sliding motion to his walk that added 
 an air of indescribable meanness to his appearance ; a gown 
 that had been worn for twenty years, browned and coated 
 with the learned dust of the Fagel, covered his rusty habil- 
 iments, and completed the equipments of a figiu-e that it 
 was somewhat difl&cult for the young student to recognize 
 
 TOL. I. — 9
 
 130 CHAKLES 0'MAI.LEY. 
 
 as the vice-provost of the university. Such was he in 
 externals. Within, a greater or more profound scliolar 
 never graced the walls of the college ; a distinguished 
 Grecian, learned in all the refinements of a hundred dia- 
 lects ; a deep Orientalist, cunning in all the varieties of 
 Eastern languages, and able to reason with a Moonshee, or 
 chat with a Persian ambassador. With a mind that never 
 ceased acquiring, he possessed a memory ridiculous for its 
 retentiveness, even of trifles ; no character in history, no 
 event in chronology was unknown to him, and he was re- 
 ferred to by his contemporaries for information in doubtful 
 and disputed cases, as men consult a lexicon or dictionary. 
 With an intellect thus stored with deep and far-sought 
 knowledge, in the affairs of the world he was a child. With- 
 out the walls of the college, for above forty years, he had 
 not ventured half as many times, and knew absolutely 
 nothing of the busy, active world that fussed and fumed so 
 near him ; his farthest excursion was to the Bank of Ireland, 
 to which he made occasional visits to fund the ample income 
 of his office, and add to the wealth which already had 
 acquired for him a well-merited repute of being the richest 
 man in college. 
 
 His little intercourse with the world had left him, in all 
 his habits and manners, in every respect exactly as when 
 he entered college nearly half a century before ; and as he 
 had literally risen from the ranks in the university, all the 
 peculiarities of voice, accent, and pronunciation which dis- 
 tinguished him as a youth, adhered to him in old age. This 
 was singular enough, and formed a very ludicrous contrast 
 with the learned and deep-read tone of his conversation; 
 but another peculiarity, still more striking, belonged to him. 
 When he became a felloAv, he was obliged, by the rules of 
 the college, to take holy orders as a sine qua non to his 
 holding his fellowship. This he did, as he would have as- 
 sumed a red hood or blue one, as bachelor of laws or doctor 
 of medicine, and thought no more of it; but frequently, 
 in his moments of passionate excitement, the venerable 
 character with which he was invested was quite forgotten, 
 and he would utter some sudden and terrific oath, more 
 productive of mirth to his auditors than was seemly, and
 
 THE VICE-PROVOST. 131 
 
 for which, once spoken, the poor doctor felt the greatest 
 shame and contrition. These oaths were no less singular 
 ""than forcible ; and many a trick was practised, and many a 
 plan devised, that the learned vice-provost might be 
 entrapped into his favorite exclamation of, "May the 
 devil admire me ! " which no place or presence could 
 restrain. 
 
 My servant, Mike, who had not been long in making 
 himself acquainted with all the originals about him, was the 
 cause of my first meeting the doctor, before whom I received 
 a summons to appear on the very serious charge of treating 
 with disrespect the heads of the college. 
 
 The circumstances were shortly these : Mike had, among 
 the other gossip of the place, heard frequent tales of the 
 immense wealth and great parsimony of the doctor, and of 
 his anxiety to amass money on all occasions, and the avidity 
 with which even the smallest trifle was added to his gains. 
 He accordingly resolved to amuse himself at the expense of 
 this trait, and proceeded thus. Boring a hole in a half- 
 penny, he attached a long string to it, and having dropped 
 it on the doctor's step stationed himself on the opposite side 
 of the court, concealed from view by the angle of the Com- 
 mons' wall. He Avaited patiently for the chapel bell, at the 
 first toll of which the door opened, and the doctor issued 
 forth. Scarcely was his foot upon the step, when he saw 
 the piece of money, and as quickly stooped to seize it ; but 
 just as his finger had nearly touched it, it evaded his grasp 
 and slowly retreated. He tried again, but with the like 
 success. At last, thinking he had miscalculated the dis- 
 tance, he knelt leisurely down, and put forth his hand, but 
 lo ! it again escaped him ; on which, slowly rising from his 
 posture, he shambled on towards the chapel, where, meeting 
 the senior lecturer at the door, he cried out, " H — to my 
 soul. Wall, but I saw the halfpenny walk away ! " 
 
 For the sake of the grave character whom he addressed, 
 I need not recount how such a speech was received ; suffice 
 it to say, that Mike had been seen by a college porter, who 
 reported him as my servant. 
 
 I was in the very act of relating the anecdote to a large 
 party at breakfast in my rooms, when a summons arrived,
 
 132 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 requiring my immediate attendance at the board, then sit- 
 ting in solemn conclave at the examination hall. 
 
 I accordingly assumed my academic costume as speedily 
 as possible, and escorted by that most august functionary, 
 Mr. M'Alister, presented myself before the seniors. 
 
 The members of the board, with the provost at their 
 head, were seated at a long oak table covered with books, 
 papers, etc., and from the silence they maintained as I 
 walked up the hall, I augured that a very solemn scene 
 was before me. 
 
 " Mr. O'Malley," said the dean, reading my name from a 
 paper he held in his hand, " you have been summoned here 
 at the desire of the vice-provost, whose questions you will 
 reply to." 
 
 I bowed. A silence of a few minutes followed, when, at 
 length, the learned doctor, hitching up his nether garments 
 with both hands, put his old and bleary eyes close to my 
 face, while he croaked out, with an accent that no hackney- 
 coachman could have exceeded in vulgarity, — 
 
 " Eh, O'Malley, you 're qiiartus, I believe ; a'n't you ? " 
 
 " I believe not. I think I am the only person of that 
 name now on the books." 
 
 " That 's thrue ; but there were three O'Malleys before 
 you. Godfrey O'Malley, that construed Calve Neroni to 
 Nero the Calvinist, — ha ! ha ! ha ! — was cautioned in 
 1788." 
 
 •' My uncle, I believe, sir." 
 
 " More than likely, from what I hear of you, — Ex 
 uno, etc. I see your name every day on the punish- 
 ment roll. Late hours, never at chapel, seldom at monr- 
 ing lecture. Here ye are, sixteen shillings, wearing a red 
 coat." 
 
 " Never knew any harm in that. Doctor." 
 
 " Ay, but d' ye see me, now ? ' Grave raiment,' says the 
 statute. And then, ye keep numerous beasts of prey, dan- 
 gerous in their habits, and unseemly to behold." 
 
 " A bull terrier, sir, and two game-cocks, are, I assure 
 you, the only animals in my household." 
 
 " Well, I '11 fine you for it." 
 
 "I believe, Doctor," said the dean, interrupting in an
 
 THE VICE-PROVOST. 133 
 
 undertone, "that you cannot impose a penalty in this 
 matter." 
 
 ''Ay, but I can. * Singing-birds,' says the statute, 'are 
 forbidden within the wall.' 
 
 " And then, ye dazzled my eyes at Commons with a bit 
 of looking-glass, on Friday. I saw you. May the devil ! — 
 ahem ! As I was saying, that 's casting reflections on the 
 heads of the college ; and your servant it was, Michaelis 
 Liber, Mickey Free, — may the flames of ! — ahem 1 — an 
 insolent varlet ! called me a sweep." 
 
 " You, Doctor ; impossible ! " said I, with pretended 
 horror. 
 
 " Ay, but d' ye see me, now ? It 's thrue, for I looked 
 about me at the time, and there was n't another sweep in 
 the place but myself. Hell to ! — I mean — God forgive me 
 for swearing ! but I '11 fine you a pound for this." 
 
 As I saw the doctor was getting on at such a pace, I re- 
 solved, notwithstanding the august presence of the board, to 
 try the efficacy of Sir Harry's letter of introduction, which 
 I had taken in my pocket in the event of its being wanted. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, if the time be an unsuitable one ; 
 but may I take the opportunity of presenting this letter to 
 you ? " 
 
 " Ha ! I know the hand — Boyle's. Boyle secundus. Hem, 
 ha, ay ! ' ]My young friend ; and assist him by your advice.' 
 To be sure ! Oh, of course. Eh, tell me, young man, did 
 Boyle say nothing to you about the copy of Erasmus, bound 
 in vellum, that I sold him in Trinity term, 1782 ? " 
 
 " I rather think not, sir," said I, doubtfully. 
 
 "^Yell, then, he might. He owes me two-and-fourpence 
 of the balance." 
 
 " Oh, I beg pardon, sir ; I now remember he desired me 
 to repay you that sum ; but he had just sealed the letter 
 when he recollected it." 
 
 "Better late than never," said the doctor, smiling gra- 
 ciously. " Where 's the money ? Ay ! half-a-crown. I 
 have n't twopence — never mind. Go away, 5'oiing man ; 
 the case is dismissed. Vehementer rriiror qxiare hue venistl. 
 You 're more fit for anything than a college life. Keep 
 good hours ; mind the terms ; and dismiss Michaelis LiJjer.
 
 134 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Ha, ha, ha ! May the devil ! — hem ! — that is do — " So 
 saying, the little doctor's hand pushed me from the hall, 
 his mind evidently relieved of all the griefs from which 
 he had been suffering, by the recovery of his long-lost 
 two-and-four-pence. 
 
 Such was my first and last interview with the vice- 
 provost, and it made an impression upon me that all the 
 intervening years have neither dimmed nor erased.
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 TRINITY COLLEGE. A LECTUKE. 
 
 I HAD not been many weeks a resident of Old Trinity 
 ere the flattering reputation my chum, Mr. Francis Webber, 
 had acquired, extended also to myself; and by universal 
 consent, we were acknowledged the most riotous, ill-con- 
 ducted, disorderly men on the books of the university. 
 Were the lamps of the squares extinguished, and the col- 
 lege left in total darkness, we were summoned before the 
 dean; was the vice-provost serenaded with a chorus of 
 trombones and French horns, to our taste in music was 
 the attention ascribed ; did a sudden alarm of fire disturb 
 the congregation at morning chapel, Messrs. Webber and 
 O'Malley were brought before the board, — and I must do 
 them the justice to say that the most trifling circumstantial 
 evidence was ever sufficient to bring a conviction. Reading 
 men avoided the building where we resided as they would 
 have done the plague. Our doors, like those of a certain clas- 
 sic precinct commemorated by a Latin writer, lay open night 
 and day, while mustached dragoons, knowingly dressed 
 four-in-hand men, fox-hunters in pink, issuing forth to the 
 Dubber or returning splashed from a run with the Kildare 
 hounds, were everlastingly seen passing and repassing. 
 Within, the noise and confusion resembled rather the mess- 
 room of a regiment towards eleven at night tlian the cham- 
 bers of a college student ; while, with the double object 
 of affecting to be in ill-health, and to avoid the reflections 
 that daylight occasionally inspires, the shutters were never 
 opened, but lamps and candles kept always burning. Such 
 was Xo. 2, Old Square, in the goodly days I write of. All 
 the terrors of fines and punishments fell scathless on the 
 head of my worthy chum. In fact, like a well-known politi- 
 cal character, whose pleasure and amusement it has been 
 for some years past to drive through acts of Parliament 
 and deride the powers of the law, so did Mr. Webber tread
 
 136 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 his way, serpenting through the statute-book, ever grazing, 
 but rarely trespassing upon some forbidden ground which 
 might involve the great punishment of expulsion. So 
 expert, too, had he become in his special pleadings, so 
 dexterous in the laAv of the university, that it was no easy 
 matter to bring crime home to him ; and even when this 
 was done, his pleas of mitigation rarely failed of success. 
 
 There was a sweetness of demeanor, a mild, subdued tone 
 about him, that constantly puzzled the worthy heads of the 
 college how the accusations ever brought against him could 
 be founded on truth ; that the pale, delicate-looking student, 
 whose harsh, hacking cough terrified the hearers, could be 
 the boisterous performer upon a key-bugle, or the terrific 
 assailant of watchmen, was something too absurd for belief. 
 And when Mv. Webber, Avith his hand upon his heart, and 
 in his most dulcet accents, assured them that the hours he 
 was not engaged in reading for the medal were passed in 
 the soothing society of a few select and intimate friends of 
 literary tastes and refined minds, who, knowing the delicacy 
 of his health, — here he would cough, — were kind enough to 
 sit up with him for an hour or so in the evening, the delu- 
 sion was perfect ; and the story of the dean's riotous habits 
 having got abroad, the charge was usually suppressed. 
 
 Like most idle men, Webber never had a moment to spare. 
 Except read, there was nothing he did not do ; training a 
 hack for a race in the Phosnix, arranging a rowing-match, 
 getting up a mock duel between two white-feather acquaint- 
 ances, were his almost daily avocations. Besides that, he 
 was at the head of many organized societies, instituted for 
 various benevolent purposes. One was called " The Asso- 
 ciation for Discountenancing W^atchmen ; " another, " The 
 Board of Works," whose object was principally devoted to 
 the embellishment of the university, in which, to do them 
 justice, their labors were unceasing, and what Avith the 
 assistance of some black paint, a ladder, and a few pounds 
 of gunpowder, they certainly contrived to effect many im- 
 portant changes. Upon an examination morning, some 
 hundred luckless *'jibs" might be seen perambulating the 
 courts, in the vain effort to discover their tutors' chambers, 
 the names havincr undergone an alteration that left all trace
 
 TRINITY COLLEGE. — A LECTURE. 137 
 
 of their original proprietors unattainable : Doctor Francis 
 Mooney having become Doctor Full Moon ; Doctor Hare 
 being, by the change of two letters, Doctor Ape ; Eonmey 
 Eobinsou, Komulus and Eemus, etc. While, upon occasions 
 like these, there could be but little doubt of ^Master Frank's 
 intentions, upon many others, so subtle were his inventions, 
 so well-contrived his plots, it became a matter of consider- 
 able difficulty to say whether the mishap which befell some 
 luckless acquaintance were the result of design or mere 
 accident ; and not unfrequently well-disposed individuals 
 were found condoling witli " Poor Frank " upon his igno- 
 rance of some college rule or etiquette, his breach of which 
 had been long and deliberately planned. Of this latter 
 description was a circumstance which occurred about this 
 time, and which some who may throw an eye over these 
 pages will perliaps remember. 
 
 The dean, having heard (and, indeed, the preparations 
 were not intended to secure secrecy) that Webber destined 
 to entertain a party of his friends at dinner on a certain 
 day, sent a peremptory order for his appearance at Com- 
 mons, his name being erased from tlie sick list, and a pretty 
 strong hint conveyed to him that any evasion upon his part 
 would be certainly followed by an inquiry into the real 
 reasons for his absence. What was to be done ? That was 
 the very day he had destined for his dinner. To be sure, 
 the majority of his guests were college men, who would 
 understand the difficulty at once ; but still there were some 
 others, officers of the 14th, with whom he was constantly 
 dining, and whom he could not so easily put off. The affair 
 was difficult, but still Webber was the man for a difiiculty ; 
 in fact, he rather liked one. A very brief consideration 
 accordingly sufficed, and he sat down and wrote to his 
 friends at the Eoyal Barracks thus : — 
 
 Saturday. 
 
 Dear Power, — I have a better plan for Tuesday than that I 
 had proposed. Lunch here at tliree (we '11 call it dinner), in the hall 
 with the great guns. I can't say much for the grub; but the com- 
 pany — glorious ! After that we '11 start for Lucan in the drag ; take 
 our coffee, strawberries, etc., and return to No. 2 for supper at ten. 
 Advertise your fellows of this change, and believe me. 
 
 Most unchangeably yours, Frank Webber.
 
 138 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Accordingly, as three o'clock struck, six dasLing-looking 
 light dragoons were seen slowly sauntering up the middle 
 of the dining-hall, escorted by Webber, who, in full academic 
 costume, was leisurely ciceroning his friends, and expati- 
 ating upon the excellences of the very remarkable portraits 
 which graced the walls. 
 
 The porters looked on with some surprise at the singular 
 ' hour selected for sight-seeing ; but what was their astonish- 
 ment to find that the party, having arrived at the end of the 
 hall, instead of turning back again, very composedly un- 
 buckled their belts, and having disposed of their sabres in 
 a corner, took their places at the Fellows' table, and sat 
 down amidst the collective wisdom of Greek lecturers and 
 Regius professors, as though they had been mere mortals 
 like themselves. 
 
 Scarcely was the long Latin grace concluded, when Web- 
 ber, leaning forward, enjoined his friends, in a veiy audible 
 whisper, that if they intended to dine no time was to be 
 lost. 
 
 "We have but little ceremony here, gentlemen, and all 
 we ask is a fair start," said he, as he drew over the soup, 
 and proceeded to help himself. 
 
 The advice was not thrown away ; for each man, with an 
 alacrity a campaign usually teaches, made himself master 
 of some neighboring dish, a very quick interchange of good 
 things speedily following the appropriation. It was in vain 
 that the senior lecturer looked aghast, that the professor 
 of astronomy frowned. The whole table, indeed, were thun- 
 derstruck, even to the poor vice-provost himself, who, albeit 
 given to the comforts of the table, could not lift a morsel to 
 his mouth, but muttered between his teeth, "May the devil 
 admire me, but they 're dragoons ! " The first shock of sur- 
 prise over, the porters proceeded to inform them that ex- 
 cept Fellows of the University or Fellow-commoners, none 
 were admitted to the table. Webber however assured them 
 that it was a mistake, there being nothing in the statute 
 to exclude the 14th Light Dragoons, as he was prepared to 
 prove. Meanwhile dinner proceeded. Power and his party 
 performing with great self-satisfaction upon the sirloins and 
 saddles about them, regretting only, from time to time, that
 
 TRINITY COLLEGE. — A LECTUEE. 139 
 
 there was a most unaccountable absence of wine, and suggest- 
 ing the propriety of napkins whenever they should dine there 
 again. Whatever chagrin these unexpected guests caused 
 among their entertainers of the upper table, in the lower 
 part of the hall the laughter was loud and unceasing ; and 
 long before the hour concluded, the Fellows took their de- 
 parture, leaving to Master Frank Webber the task of doing 
 the honors alone and unassisted. When summoned before 
 the board for the offence on the following morning, Webber 
 excused himself by throwing the blame upon his friends, 
 with whom, he said, nothing short of a personal quarrel — 
 a thing for a reading man not to be thought of — could 
 have prevented intruding in the manner related. Nothing 
 less than his tact could have saved him on this occasion, 
 and at last he carried the day ; while by an act of the board 
 the 14tli Light Dragoons were pronounced the most insolent 
 corps in the service. 
 
 An adventure of his, however, got wind about this time, 
 and served to enlighten many persons as to his real charac- 
 ter, who had hitherto been most lenient in their expressions 
 about him. Our worthy tutor, with a zeal for our welfare 
 far more praiseworthy than successful, was in the habit of 
 summoning to his chambers, on certain mornings of the 
 week, his various pupils, whom he lectured in the books for 
 the approaching examinations. Now, as these seances were 
 held at six o'clock in winter as well as summer, in a cold 
 fireless chamber, — the lecturer lying snug amidst his blank- 
 ets, while we stood shivering around the walls, — the ardor 
 of learning must indeed have proved strong that prompted 
 a regular attendance. As to Frank, he would have as soon 
 thought of attending chapel as of presenting himself on 
 such an occasion. Not so with me. I had not yet grown 
 hackneyed enough to fly in the face of authority, and I fre- 
 quently left the whist-table, or broke off in a song, to hurry 
 over to the doctor's chambers and spout Homer and Hesiod. 
 I suffered on in patience, till at last the bore became so 
 insupportable that I told my sorrows to my friend, who lis- 
 tened to me out, and promised me succor. 
 
 It so chanced that upon some evening in each week Dr. 
 Mooney was in the habit of visiting some friends who re-
 
 140 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 sided a short distance from town, and spending the night 
 at their house. He, of course, did not lecture the follow- 
 ing morning, — a paper placard, announcing no lecture, 
 being affixed to the door on such occasions. Frank waited 
 patiently till he perceived the doctor affixing this announce- 
 ment upon liis door one evening ; and no sooner had he left 
 the college than he withdrew the paper and departed. 
 
 On the next morning he rose early, and concealing him- 
 self on the staircase, waited the arrival of the venerable 
 damsel who acted as servant to the doctor. No sooner had 
 she opened the door and groped her way into the sitting- 
 room than Frank crept forward, and stealing gently into 
 the bedroom, sprang into the bed and wrapped himself up 
 in the blankets. The great bell boomed forth at six o'clock, 
 and soon after the sounds of the feet were heard upon the 
 stairs. One by one they came along, and gradually the room 
 was filled with cold and shivering wretches, more than half 
 asleep, and trying to arouse themselves into an approach to 
 attention. 
 
 " Who 's there ? " said Frank, mimicking the doctor's 
 voice, as he yawned three or four times in succession and 
 turned in the bed. 
 
 " CoUisson, O'Malley, Nesbitt," etc., said a number of 
 voices, anxious to have all the merit such a penance could 
 confer. 
 
 " Where 's Webber ? " 
 
 " Absent, sir," chorussed the whole party. 
 
 " Sorry for it," said the mock doctor. " Webber is a 
 man of first-rate capacity ; and were he only to apply, I 
 am not certain to what eminence his abilities might raise 
 him. Come, Collisson, any three angles of a triangle are 
 equal to — are equal to — what are they equal to ? " Here 
 he yawned as though he would dislocate his jaw. 
 
 "Any three angles of a triangle are equal to two right 
 angles," said Collisson, in the usual sing-song tone of a 
 freshman. 
 
 As he proceeded to prove the proposition, his monoto- 
 nous tone seemed to have lulled the doctor into a doze, 
 for in a few minutes a deep, long-drawn snore announced 
 from the closed curtains that he listened no longer. After
 
 TRINITY COLLEGE. —A LECTURE. 141 
 
 a little time, however, a short snort from the sleeper awoke 
 him suddenly, and he called out, "Go on, I'm waiting. 
 Do you think I can arouse at this hour of the morning for 
 nothing but to listen to your bungling ? Can no one give 
 me a free translation of the passage ? " 
 
 This digression from mathematics to classics did not sur- 
 prise the hearers, though it somewhat confused them, no one 
 being precisely aware what the line in question might be. 
 
 " Try it, Nesbitt, — you, O'Malley. Silent all ? Eeally 
 this is too bad ! " An indistinct muttering here from the 
 crowd was followed by an announcement from the doctor 
 that the speaker Avas an ass, and his head a turnip ! " Xot 
 one of you capable of translating a chorus from Euripides, 
 — ' Ou, ou, papai, papai,' etc. ; which, after all, means no 
 more than, ' Oh, whilleleu, murder, why did you die I ' etc. 
 What are you laughing at, gentlemen ? May I ask, does 
 it become a set of ignorant, ill-informed savages — yes, 
 savages, I repeat the word — to behave in this manner ? 
 Webber is the only man I have with common intellect, — 
 the only man among you capable of distinguishing himself. 
 But as for you, I '11 bring you before the board ; I '11 write 
 to your friends ; I '11 stop your college indulgences ; I '11 
 confine you to the walls ; I '11 be damned, eh — " 
 
 This lapse confused him. He stammered, stuttered, en- 
 deavored to recover himself ; but by this time we had 
 approached the bed, just at the moment when Master 
 Frank, well knowing what he might expect if detected, 
 had bolted from the blankets and rushed from the room. 
 In an instant we were in pursuit ; but he regained his 
 chambers, and double-locked the door before we could over- 
 take him, leaving us to ponder over the insolent tirade we 
 had so patiently submitted to. 
 
 That morning the affair got wind all over college. As for 
 us, we were scarcely so much laughed at as the doctor ; the 
 world wisely remembering, if such were the nature of our 
 morning's orisons, we might nearly as profitably have re- 
 mained snug in our quarters. 
 
 Such was our life in Old Trinity ; and strange enough it 
 is that one should feel tempted to the confession, but I really 
 must acknowledge these were, after all, happy times, and I
 
 142 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 look back upon them -with mingled pleasure and sadness. 
 The noble lord who so pathetically lamented that the devil 
 ■was not so strong in him as he used to be forty years before, 
 has an echo in my regrets that the student is not as 
 young in me as when these scenes were enacting of which 
 I write.
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 THE INVITATION. THE WAGER. 
 
 I WAS sitting at breakfast with Webber, a few mornings 
 after the mess dinner I have spoken of, when Power came 
 in hastily. 
 
 " Ha, the very man ! " said he. " I say, O'Malley, here 's 
 an invitation for you from Sir George, to dine on Friday. 
 He desired me to say a thousand civil things about his not 
 having made you out, regrets that he was not at home when 
 you called yesterday, and all that. By Jove, I know nothing 
 like the favor you stand in ; and as for Miss Dashwood, faith! 
 the fair Lucy blushed, and tore her glove in most approved 
 style, when the old general began his laudation of you." 
 
 " Pooh, nonsense," said I ; " that silly affair in the west." 
 
 " Oh, very probably ; there 's reason the less for you look- 
 ing so excessively conscious. But I must tell you, in all 
 fairness, that you have no chance ; nothing short of a dra- 
 goon will go down." 
 
 " Be assured," said I, somewhat nettled, " my pretensions 
 do not aspire to the fair Miss Dashwood." 
 
 " Tant tnieiix et tant pis, mo?i cher. I wish to Heaven 
 mine did ; and, by Saint Patrick, if I only played the knight- 
 errant half as gallantly as yourself, I would not relinquish 
 my claims to the Secretary at War himself." 
 
 " What the devil brought the old general down to your 
 wild regions ? " inquired Webber. 
 
 " To contest the county." 
 
 "A bright thought, truly. When a man was looking for 
 a seat, why not try a place where the law is occasionally 
 heard of?" 
 
 " I 'm sure I can give you no information on that head ; 
 nor have I ever heard how Sir George came to learn that 
 such a place as Galway existed." 
 
 "I believe I can enlighten you," said Power. "Lady 
 Dashwood — rest her soul ! — came west of the Shannon ;
 
 144 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 she had a large property somewhere in Mayo, and owned 
 some hundred acres of swamp, with some thousand starving 
 tenantry thereupon, that people dignified as an estate in Con- 
 naught. This first suggested to him the notion of setting 
 up for the county, probably supposing that the people Avho 
 never paid in rent might like to do so in gratitude. How 
 he was undeceived, O'Malley there can inform us. Indeed, 
 I believe the worthy general, who was confoundedly hard 
 up when he married, expected to have got a great fortune, 
 and little anticipated the three chancery suits he succeeded 
 to, nor the fourteen rent-charges to his wife's relatives that 
 made up the bulk of the dower. It was an unlucky hit for 
 him when he fell in with the old ' maid ' at Bath ; and had 
 she lived, he must have gone to the colonies. But the Lord 
 took her one day, and Major Dashwood was himself again. 
 The Duke of York, the story goes, saw him at Hounslow 
 during a review, was much struck with his air and appear- 
 ance, made some inquiries, found him to be of excellent 
 family and irreproachable conduct, made him an aide-de- 
 camp, and, in fact, made his fortune. I do not believe that, 
 while doing so kind, he could by possibility have done a 
 more popular thing. Every man in the army rejoiced at 
 his good fortune ; so that, after all, though he has had some 
 hard rubs, he has come well through, the only vestige of his 
 unfortunate matrimonial connection being a correspondence 
 kept up by a maiden sister of his late wife's with him. She 
 insists upon claiming the ties of kindred upon about twenty 
 family eras during the year, when she regularly writes a 
 most loving and ill-spelled epistle, containing the latest 
 information from Mayo, with all particulars of the Macan 
 family, of which she is a worthy member. To her constant 
 hints of the acceptable nature of certain small remittances, 
 the poor general is never inattentive ; but to the pleasing 
 prospect of a visit in the flesh from Miss Judy Macan, the 
 good man is dead. In fact, nothing short of being broke by 
 general court-martial could complete his sensations of horror 
 at such a stroke of fortune ; and I am not certain, if choice 
 were allowed him, that he would not prefer the latter." 
 
 " Then he has never yet seen her ? " said Webber. 
 
 " Never," replied Power j " and he hopes to leave Ireland
 
 THE INVITATION — THE WAGER. 145 
 
 without that blessing, the prospect of which, however remote 
 and unlikely, has, I know well, more than once terrilied him 
 since his arrival." 
 
 "I say, Power, and has your worthy general sent me a 
 card for his ball ? " 
 
 " Not through me, Master Frank." 
 
 "Well, now, I call that devilish shabby, do you know. 
 He asks O'Malley there from my chambers, and never no- 
 tices the other man, the superior in the firm. Eh, O'Malley, 
 what say you ? " 
 
 " Why, I did n't know you were acquainted." 
 
 " And who said we were ? It was his fault, though, en- 
 tirely, that we were not. I am, as I have ever been, the 
 most easy fellow in the world on that score, never give 
 myself airs to military people, endure anything, everything, 
 and you see the result ; hard, ain't it ? " 
 
 " But, Webber, Sir George must really be excused in this 
 matter. He has a daughter, a most attractive, lovely daugh- 
 ter, just at that budding, unsuspecting age when the heart 
 is most susceptible of impressions ; and where, let me ask, 
 could she run such a risk as in the chance of a casual meet- 
 ing with the redoubted lady-killer. Master Frank Webber ? 
 If he has not sought you out, then here be his apology." 
 
 " A very strong case, certainly," said Frank ; " but, still, 
 had he confided his critical position to my honor ana secrecy, 
 he might have depended on me ; now, having taken the other 
 line — " 
 
 " Well, what then ? " 
 
 " Why, he must abide the consequences. I '11 make fierce 
 love to Louisa ; is n't that the name ? " 
 
 " Lucy, so please you." 
 
 " Well, be it so, — to Lucy, — talk the little girl into a 
 most deplorable attachment for me." 
 
 " But, how, may I ask, and when ? " 
 
 " I '11 begin at the ball, man." 
 
 " Why, I thought you said you were not going ? " 
 
 " There you mistake seriously. I merely said that I had 
 not been invited." 
 
 "Then, of course," said I, "Webber, you can't think of 
 going, in any case, on my account." 
 
 VOL. I. — 10
 
 146 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " My very dear friend, I go entirely upon my own. T not 
 only shall go, but I intend to have most particular notice 
 and attention paid me. I shall be prime favorite with Sir 
 George, kiss Lucy — " 
 
 " Come, come, this is too strong." 
 
 " What do you beh I don't ? There, now, I '11 give you a 
 pony apiece, I do. Do you say done ? " 
 
 " That you kiss Miss Dashwood, and are not kicked down- 
 stairs for your pains ; are those the terms of the wager ? " 
 inquired Power. 
 
 " With all my heart. That I kiss Miss Dashwood, and 
 am not kicked down-stairs for my pains." 
 
 "Then, I say, done." 
 
 "And with you, too, O'Malley ? " 
 
 " I thank you," said I, coldly ; " I am not disposed to make 
 such a return for Sir George Dashwood's hospitality as to 
 make an insult to his family the subject of a bet." 
 
 " Why, man, what are you dreaming of ? Miss Dashwood 
 will not refuse my chaste salute. Come, Power, I '11 give 
 you the other pony." 
 
 " Agreed," said he. " At the same time, understand me 
 distinctly, that I hold myself perfectly eligible to winning 
 the wager by my own interference ; for if you do kiss her, 
 by Jove ! I '11 perform the remainder of the compact." 
 
 " So I understand the agreement," said Webber, arranging 
 his curls before the looking-glass. " Well, now, who 's for 
 Howth ? The drag will be here in half an hour." 
 
 "Not I," said Power; "I must return to the barracks." 
 
 "Nor I," said I, "for I shall take this opportunity of 
 leaving my card at Sir George Dashwood's." 
 
 " I have won my fifty, however," said Power, as we walked 
 out in the courts. 
 
 "I am not quite certain — " 
 
 " Why, the devil, he would not risk a broken neck for that 
 sum ; besides, if he did, he loses the bet." 
 
 " He 's a devilish keen fellow." 
 
 " Let him be. In any case I am determined to be on my 
 guard here." 
 
 So chatting, we strolled along to the Koyal Hospital, when, 
 having dropped my pasteboard, I returned to the college.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE BALL. 
 
 I HAVE often dressed for a storming party with less of 
 trepidation than I felt on the evening of Sir George Dash- 
 wood's ball. Since the eventful day of the election I had 
 never seen Miss Dashwood ; therefore, as to what precise 
 position I miglit occupy in her favor was a matter of great 
 doubt in my mind, and great import to my happiness. That 
 I myself loved her, was a matter of which all the badinage 
 of my friends regarding her made me painfully conscious ; 
 but that, in our relative positions, such an attachment was 
 all but hopeless, I could not disguise from myself. Young 
 as I was, I well knew to what a heritage of debt, lawsuit, 
 and difficulty I was born to succeed. In my own resources 
 and means of advancement I had no confidence whatever, 
 had even the profession to which I was destined been more 
 of my choice. I daily felt that it demanded greater exer- 
 tions, if not far greater abilities, than I could command, to 
 make success at all likely ; and then, even if such a result 
 were in store, years, at least, must elapse before it could 
 happen ; and where would she then be, and where should I ? 
 Where the ardent affection I now felt and gloried in, — per- 
 haps all the more for its desperate hopelessness, — when the 
 sanguine and buoyant spirit to combat with difficulties which 
 youth suggests, and which, later, manhood refuses, should 
 have passed away ? And even if all these survived the toil 
 and labor of anxious days and painful nights, what of her ? 
 Alas, I now reflected that, although only of my own age, 
 her manner to me had taken all that tone of superiority and 
 patronage which an elder assumes towards one younger, and 
 which, in the spirit of protection it proceeds upon, essen- 
 tially bars up every inlet to a dearer or warmer feeling, — 
 at least, when the lady plays the former part. "What, 
 then, is to be done ? " thought I. " Forget her ? — but how ?
 
 148 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 How shall I renounce all my plans, and unweave the web of 
 life I have been spreading around me for many a day, with- 
 out that one golden thread that lent it more than half its 
 brilliancy and all its attraction ? But then the alternative 
 is even worse, if I encourage expectations and nurture hopes 
 never to be realized. Well, we meet to-night, after a long 
 and eventful absence ; let my future fate be ruled by the 
 results of this meeting. If Lucy Dashwood does care for 
 me, if I can detect in her manner enough to show me that 
 my affection may meet a return, the whole effort of my life 
 shall be to make her mine ; if not, if my own feelings be all 
 that I have to depend upon to extort a reciprocal affec- 
 tion, then shall I take my last look of her, and with it the 
 first and brightest dream of happiness my life has hitherto 
 presented." 
 
 It need not be wondered at if the brilliant coup d'cell of 
 the ball-room, as I entered, struck me with astonishment, 
 accustomed as I had hitherto been to nothing more magnifi- 
 cent than an evening party of squires and their squiresses 
 or the annual garrison ball at the barracks. The glare of 
 wax-lights, the well-furnished saloons, the glitter of uni- 
 forms, and the blaze of plumed and jewelled dames, with 
 the clang of military music, was a species of enchanted 
 atmosphere which, breathing for the first time, rarely fails 
 to intoxicate. Never before had I seen so much beauty. 
 Lovely faces, dressed in all the seductive flattery of smiles, 
 were on every side ; and as I walked from room to room, 
 I felt how much more fatal to a man's peace and heart's 
 ease the Avhispered words and silent glances of those fair 
 damsels, than all the loud gayety and boisterous freedom 
 of our country belles, who sought to take the heart by 
 storm and escalade. 
 
 As yet I had seen neither Sir George nor his daughter, 
 and while I looked on every side for Lucy Dashwood, 
 it was with a beating and anxious heart I longed to see 
 how she would bear comparison with the blaze of beauty 
 around. 
 
 Just at this moment a very gorgeously dressed hussar 
 stepped from a doorway beside me, as if to make a passage
 
 THE BALL. 149 
 
 for some one, and the next moment slie appeared leaning 
 upon the arm of another lady. One look was all that I had 
 •'time for, when she recognized me. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. O'Malley, how happy — has Sir George — has 
 my father seen you ? " 
 
 "I have only arrived this moment; I trust he is quite 
 well ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, thank you — " 
 
 " I beg your pardon with all humility. Miss Dashwood," 
 said the hussar, in a tone of the most knightly courtesy, 
 "but they are waiting for us." 
 
 '* But, Captain Fortescue, you must excuse me one mo- 
 ment more. Mr. Lechmere, will you do me the kindness 
 to hnd out Sir George ? Mr. O'Malley — Mr. Lechmere." 
 Here she said something in French to her companion, but 
 so rapidly that I could not detect what it was, but merely 
 heard the reply, " Fas mal ! " — which, as the lady con- 
 tinued to canvass me most deliberately through her eye- 
 glass, I supposed referred to me. "And now, Captain 
 Fortescue — " And with a look of most courteous kind- 
 ness to me she disappeared in the crowd. 
 
 The gentleman to whose guidance I was entrusted was 
 one of the aides-de-camp, and was not long in finding Sir 
 George. Xo sooner had the good old general heard my 
 name, than he held out both his hands and shook mine 
 most heartily, 
 
 "At last, O'Malley; at last I am able to thank you for 
 the greatest service ever man rendered me. He saved 
 Lucy, my Lord ; rescued her under circumstances where 
 anything short of his courage and determination must have 
 cost her her life." 
 
 "Ah, very pretty indeed," said a stiff old gentleman 
 addressed, as he bowed a most superbly powdered scalp be- 
 fore me ; "most happy to make your acquaintance." 
 
 " Who is he ? " added he, in nearly as loud a tone to Sir 
 George. 
 
 "Mr. O'Malley, of O'Malley Castle." 
 
 " True, I forgot ; why is he not in uniform ? " 
 
 " Because, unfortunately, my Lord, we don't own him j 
 he 's not in the army."
 
 150 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! thought he was." 
 
 " You dauce, O'Malley, I suppose ? I 'm sure you 'd 
 rather be over there than hearing all my protestations of 
 gratitude, sincere and heartfelt as they really are." 
 
 '' Lechmere, introduce my friend, Mr. O'Malley ; get him 
 a partner." 
 
 I had not followed my new acquaintance many steps, 
 Avhen Power came up to me. "I say, Charley," cried he, 
 " I have been tormented to death by half the ladies in the 
 room to present you to them, and have been in quest of you 
 this half-hour. Your brilliant exploit in savage land has 
 made you a regular preux chevalier ; and if you don't trade 
 on that adventure to your most lasting profit, you deserve 
 to be — a lawyer. Come along here ! Lady INIuckleman, 
 the adjutant-general's lady and chief, has four Scotch 
 daughters you are to dance with ; then I am to introduce 
 you in all form to the Dean of Something's niece, — she is a 
 good-looking girl, and has two livings in a safe county. 
 Then there 's the town-major's wife ; and, in fact, I have 
 several engagements from this to supper-time." 
 
 " A thousand thanks for all your kindness in prospective, 
 but I think, perhaps, it were right I should ask ]Miss 
 Dashwood to dance, if only as a matter of form, — you 
 understand ? " 
 
 " And if Miss Dashwood should say, ' With pleasure, 
 sir,' only as a matter of form, — you understand ? " said a 
 silvery voice beside me. I turned, and saw Lucy Dash- 
 wood, who, having overheard my free-and-easy suggestion, 
 replied to me in this manner. 
 
 I here blundered out my excuses. What I said, and what 
 I did not say, I do not now remember ; but certainly, it 
 was her turn now to blush, and her arm trembled within 
 mine as I led her to the top of the room. In the little 
 opportunity which our quadrille presented for conversa- 
 tion, I could not help remarking that, after the surprise of 
 her first meeting with me, Miss Dashwood's manner be- 
 came gradually more and more reserved, and that there 
 was an evident struggle between her wish to appear grate- 
 ful for what had occurred, with a sense of the necessity of 
 not incurring a greater degree of intimacy. Such was my
 
 THE BALL. 151 
 
 impression, at least, and such the condusion I drew 
 from a certain quiet tone in her manner that went fur- 
 ther to wound my feelings and mar my happiness than 
 any other line of conduct towards me could possibly have 
 effected. 
 
 Our quadrille over, I was about to conduct her to a 
 seat, when Sir George came hurriedly up, his face greatly 
 flushed, and betraying every semblance of high excitement. 
 
 " Dear Papa, has anything occurred ? Pray what is it ? " 
 inquired she. 
 
 He smiled faintly, and replied, " Nothing very serious, my 
 dear, that I should alarm you in this way ; but certainly, 
 a more disagreeable contretemps could scarcely occur." 
 
 " Do tell me : what can it be ? " 
 
 "Kead this," said he, presenting a very dirty-looking 
 note which bore the mark of a red wafer most infernally 
 plain upon its outside. 
 
 Miss Dashwood unfolded the billet, and after a moment's 
 silence, instead of participating, as he expected, in her fath- 
 er's feeling of distress, burst out a-laughing, while she said : 
 " Why, really. Papa, I do not see why this should put you 
 out much, after all. Aunt may be somewhat of a character, 
 as her note evinces, but after a few days — " 
 
 " Xonsense, child ; there 's nothing in this world I have 
 such a dread of as that confounded woman, — and to come 
 at such a time." 
 
 " When does she speak of paying her visit ? " 
 
 "I knew you had not read the note," said 'Sir George, 
 hastily ; " she 's coming here to-night, — is on her way this 
 instant, perhaps. What is to be done ? If she forces her 
 way in here, I shall go deranged outright ; O'Malley, my 
 boy, read this note, and you will not feel surprised if I 
 appear in the humor you see me." 
 
 I took the billet from the hands of Miss Dashwood, and 
 read as follows : — 
 
 Dear Brother, — When this reaches your hand, I '11 not be far 
 off. 1 'm on my way up to town, to lie under Dr. Dease for the ould 
 complaint. Cowley mistakes my case entirely ; he says it 's nothing 
 but religion and wind. Father Magrath, who understands a good
 
 152 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 deal about females, thinks otherwise ; but God knows who 's right 
 Expect me to tea, and, with love to Lucy, 
 
 Believe me, yours in haste, 
 
 Judith Macan. 
 
 Let the sheets be well aired in my room ; and if you have a spare 
 bed, perhaps we could prevail upon Father Magrath to stop too. 
 
 I scarcely could contain my laughter till I got to the end 
 of tins very free-and-easy epistle ; when at last I burst forth 
 in a hearty fit, in which I was joined by Miss Dashwood. 
 
 From the account Power had given me in the morning, I 
 had no difficulty in guessing that the waiter was the muiden 
 sister of the late Lady Dashwood ; and for whose relation- 
 ship Sir George had ever testified the greatest dread, even 
 at the distance of two hundred miles ; and for whom, in any 
 nearer intimacy, he was in no wise prepared. 
 
 " I say, Lucy," said he, " there 's only one thing to be 
 done : if this horrid woman does arrive, let her be shown 
 to her room ; and for the few days of her stay in town, 
 we '11 neither see nor be seen by any one." 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, Sir George was turning away 
 to give the necessary instructions, when the door of the 
 drawing-room was flung open, and the servant announced, 
 in his loudest voice, " Miss Macan." Never shall I forget 
 the poor general's look of horror as the words reached him ; 
 for as yet, he was too far to catch even a glimpse of its 
 fair owner. As for me, I was already so much interested 
 in seeing what she was like, that I made my way through 
 the crowed tow^ards the door. It is no common occurrence 
 that can distract the various occupations of a crowded ball- 
 room, where, amidst the crash of music and the din of con- 
 versation, goes on the soft, low voice of insinuating flattery, 
 or the light flirtation of a first acquaintance ; every clique, 
 every coterie, every little group of three or four has its own 
 separate and private interests, forming a little world of its 
 ow^i, and caring for and heeding nothing that goes on 
 around ; and even when some striking character or illus- 
 trious personage makes his entree, the attention he attracts 
 is so momentary, that the buzz of conversation is scarcely, 
 if at all, interrupted, and the business of pleasure continues
 
 THE BALL. 
 
 153 
 
 to flow on. Not so now, however. No sooner liad the ser- 
 vant pronounced the magical name of Miss Macan, than all 
 seemed to stand still. The spell thus exercised over the 
 luckless general seemed to have extended to his company ; 
 for it was with difficulty that any one could continue his 
 train of conversation, while every eye was directed towards 
 the door. About two steps in advance of the servant, who 
 still stood door in hand, was a tall, elderly lady, dressed in 
 an antique brocade silk, with enormous flowers gaudily em- 
 
 broidered upon it. Her hair was powdered and turned back 
 in the fashion of fifty years before ; while her high-pointed 
 and heeled shoes completed a costume that had not been 
 seen for nearly a century. Her short, skinny arms were 
 bare and partly covered by a falling flower of old point lace, 
 while on her hands she wore black silk mittens ; a pair of 
 green spectacles scarcely dimmed the lustre of a most pierc- 
 ing pair of eyes, to whose effect a very palpable touch of 
 rouge on the cheeks certainly added brilliancy. There 
 stood this most singular apparition, holding before her 
 a fan about the size of a modern tea-tray ; while at each
 
 154 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 repetition of her name by the servant, she cnrtesied 
 deeply, bestowing the while upon the gay crowd before her 
 a very curious look of maidenly modesty at her solitary 
 and unprotected position. 
 
 As no one had ever heard of the fair Judith, save one or 
 two of Sir George's most intimate friends, the greater part 
 of the company were disposed to regard Miss Macan as 
 some one who had mistaken the character of the invitation, 
 and had come in a fancy dress. But this delusion was but 
 momentary, as Sir George, armed with the courage of de- 
 spair, forced his way through the crowd, and taking her 
 hand affectionately, l)id her welcome to Dublin. The fair 
 Judy, at this, threw her arms about his neck, and saluted 
 him with a hearty smack that was heard all over the room, 
 
 "Where's Lucy, Brother? Let me embrace my little 
 darling," said the lady, in an accent that told more of 
 Miss Macan than a three-volume biography could have 
 done. " There she is, I 'm sure ; kiss me, my honey." 
 
 This office Miss Dashwood performed with an effort at 
 courtesy really admirable ; while, taking her aunt's arm, 
 she led her to a sofa. 
 
 It needed all the poor general's tact to get over the 
 sensation of this most malapropos addition to his party ; 
 but by degrees the various groups renewed their occupa- 
 tions, although many a smile, and more than one sarcastic 
 glance at the sofa, betrayed that the maiden aunt had not 
 escaped criticism. 
 
 Power, whose propensity for fun very considerably out- 
 stripped his sense of decorum to his commanding officer, 
 had already made his way towards Miss Dashwood, and suc- 
 ceeded in obtaining a formal introduction to IVIiss Macan. 
 
 "I hope you will do me the favor to dance next set with 
 me. Miss Macan ? " 
 
 " Really, Captain, it 's very polite of you, but you must 
 excuse me. I was never anything great in quadrilles ; but 
 if a reel or a jig — " 
 
 "Oh, dear Aunt, don't think of it, I beg of you." 
 
 " Or even Sir Roger de Coverley," resumed Miss Macan. 
 
 " I assure you, quite equally impossible." 
 
 " Then I 'm certain you waltz," said Power.
 
 THE B^\J.L. 355 
 
 « What do you take me for, young man ? I hope I know 
 better. I wish Father Magrath heard you ask me that 
 question, and for all your laced jacket — " 
 
 " Dearest Aunt, Captain Power did n't mean to offend you; 
 I 'm certain he — " 
 
 "Well, why did he dare to [sob, sob'] — did he see any- 
 thing light about me, that he \_sob, sob, sob] — oh, dear ! oh, 
 dear ! is it for this I came up from my little peaceful place 
 in the west [sob, sob, sob] ? — General, George, dear ; Lucy, 
 my love, I 'm taken bad. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! is there any 
 whiskey negus ? " 
 
 Whatever sympathy Miss Macau's sufferings might have 
 excited in the crowd about her before, this last question 
 totally routed them, and a most hearty lit of laughter broke 
 forth from more than one of the b3"standers. 
 
 At length, however, she was comforted, and her pacifica- 
 tion completely effected by Sir George setting her down to 
 a whist-table. From this moment I lost sight of her for 
 above two hours. Meanwhile I had little opportunity of 
 following up my intimacy with Miss Dashwood, and as I 
 rather suspected that, on more than one occasion, she seemed 
 to avoid our meeting, I took especial care on my part, to 
 spare her the annoyance. 
 
 For one instant only had I any opportunity of addressing 
 her, and then there was such an evident embarrassment in 
 her manner that I readily perceived how she felt circum- 
 stanced, and that the sense of gratitude to one whose further 
 advances she might have feared, rendered her constrained 
 and aAvkward. " Too true," said I, " she avoids me. My 
 being here is only a source of discomfort and pain to her ; 
 therefore, I '11 take my leave, and whatever it may cost me, 
 never to return." With this intention, resolving to wish 
 Sir George a very good night, I sought him out for some 
 minutes. At length I saw him in a corner, conversing with 
 the old nobleman to whom he had presented me early in the 
 evening. 
 
 " True, upon my honor, Sir George," said he ; "I saw it 
 myself, and she did it just as dexterously as the oldest 
 blackleg in Paris." 
 
 " Why, you don't mean to say that she cheated ? "
 
 li>6 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "Yes, but I do, though, — turned the ace every time. 
 Lady Herbert said to me, * Very extraordinary it is, — four 
 by honors again.' So I looked, and then I perceived it, — a 
 very old trick it is ; but she did it beautifully. What 's her 
 name ? " 
 
 " Some western name ; I forget it," said the poor general, 
 ready to die with shame. 
 
 " Clever old woman, vsry ! " said the old lord, taking a 
 pinch of snuff ; " but revokes too often." 
 
 Supper was announced at this critical moment, and before 
 I had further thought of my determination to escape. I felt 
 myself hurried along in the crowd towards the staircase. 
 The party immediately in front of me were Power and Miss 
 Macan, who now appeared reconciled, and certainly testified 
 most openly their mutual feelings of good-will. 
 
 "I say, Charley," whispered Power, as I came along, "it 
 is capital fiin, — never met anything equal to her; but the 
 poor general will never live through it, and I 'm certain of 
 ten day's arrest for this night's proceeding." 
 
 " Any news of Webber ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I fancy I can tell something of him ; for I heard 
 of some one presenting himself, and being refused the entree, 
 so that Master Frank has lost his money. Sit near us, I 
 pray you, at supper. We must take care of the dear aunt 
 for the niece's sake, eh ? " 
 
 Not seeing the force of this reasoning, I soon separated 
 myself from them, and secured a corner at a side-table. 
 Every supper on such an occasion as this is the same scene 
 of solid white muslin, faded flowers, flushed faces, torn 
 gloves, blushes, blanc-mange, cold chicken, jelly, sponge 
 cakes, spooney young gentlemen doing the attentive, and 
 watchful mammas calculating what precise degree of pro- 
 pinquity in the crush is safe or seasonable for their daugh- 
 ters to the mustached and unmarrying lovers beside them. 
 There are always the same set of gratified elders, like the 
 benchers in King's Inn, marched up to the head of the table, 
 to eat, drink, and be happy, removed from the more pro- 
 fane looks and soft speeches of the younger part of the 
 creation. Then there are the hoi polloi of outcasts, younger 
 sons of younger brothers, tutors, governesses, portionless
 
 THE BALL. 157 
 
 cousins, and curates, all formed in phalanx round the side- 
 tables, whose primitive habits and simple tastes are evinced 
 by their a'l eating off the same plate and drinking from 
 nearly the same wine-glass, — too happy if some better-off 
 acquaintance at the long table invites them to " wine," 
 though the ceremony on their part is limited to the panto- 
 mime of drinking. To this miserable tiers etat I belonged, 
 and bore my fate with unconcern ; for, alas, my spirits were 
 depressed and my heart heavy. Lucy's treatment of me 
 was every moment before me, contrasted with her gay and 
 courteous demeanor to all save myself, and I longed for the 
 moment to get away. 
 
 Never had I seen her looking so beautif id ; her brilliant 
 eyes were lit with pleasure, and her smile was enchantment 
 itself. What would I not have given for one moment's ex- 
 planation, as I took my leave forever ! — one brief avowal of 
 my unalterable, devoted love ; for which I sought not nor 
 expected return, but merely that 1 might not be forgotten. 
 
 Such were my thoughts, when a dialogue quite near me 
 aroused me from my revery. I was not long in detecting 
 the speakers, who, with their backs turned to us, were 
 seated at the great table discussing a very liberal allowance 
 of pigeon-pie, a flask of champagne standing between them. 
 
 " Don't now ! don't I tell ye ; it 's little ye know Galway, 
 or ye wouldn't think to make up to me, squeezing my 
 foot." 
 
 " Upon my soul, you 're an angel, a regular angel. I never 
 saw a woman suit my fancy before." 
 
 "Oh, behave now. Father Magrath says — " 
 
 "Who's he?" 
 
 " The priest ; no less." 
 
 " Oh, confound him ! " 
 
 " Confound Father Magrath, young man ? " 
 
 " Well, then, Judy, don't be angry ; I only meant that a 
 dragoon knows rather more of these matters than a priest." 
 
 " Well, then, I 'm not so sure of that. But anyhow, I 'd 
 have you to remember it ain't a Widow Malone you have 
 beside you." 
 
 " Xever heard of the lady," said Power. 
 
 " Sure, it 's a song, — poor creature, — it 's a song they
 
 158 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 made about her in the North Cork, when they were quartered 
 down in our county." 
 
 " I wish to Heaven you 'd sing it." 
 
 " What will you give me, then, if I do ? " 
 
 " Anything, — everything ; my heart, my life." 
 
 " I would n't give a trauneen for all of them. Give me 
 that old green ring on your finger, then." 
 
 " It 's yours," said Power, placing it gracefully upon Miss 
 Macau's finger ; " and now for your promise." 
 
 " May be my brother might not like it." 
 
 " He 'd be delighted," said Power ; " he dotes on music." 
 
 "Does he now?" 
 
 " On my honor, he does." 
 
 " Well, mind you get up a good chorus, for the song has 
 one, and here it is." 
 
 " Miss Macau's song ! " said Power, tapping the table with 
 his knife. 
 
 " Miss Macau's song ! " was re-echoed on all sides ; and 
 before the luckless general could interfere, she had begun. 
 How to explain the air I know not, for I never heard its 
 name ; but at the end of each verse a species of echo fol- 
 lowed the last word that rendered it irresistibly ridiculous. 
 
 THE WIDOW MALONE. 
 
 Did ye hear of the Widow Malone, 
 
 Ohonel 
 
 Who lived in the town of Athlone, 
 
 Alone ? 
 
 Oh, she melted the hearts 
 
 Of the swains in them parts, 
 
 So lovely the Widow Malone, 
 
 Ohone! 
 
 So lovely the Widow Malone. 
 
 Of lovers she had a full score, 
 
 Or more ; 
 
 And fortunes they all had galore, 
 
 In store ; 
 
 From the minister down 
 
 To the clerk of the crown,
 
 THE BALL. 159 
 
 All were courting the Widow Malone, 
 
 Oh one! 
 All were courting the Widow Malone. 
 
 But so modest was Mrs. Malone, 
 
 'T was known 
 
 No one ever could see her alone, 
 
 Ohone ! 
 
 Let them ogle an<I sigh, 
 
 They could ne'er catch her eye, 
 
 So bashful the Widow Malone, 
 
 Ohone ! 
 
 So bashful the Widow Malone. 
 
 Till one Mister O'Brien from Clare, 
 
 How quare ! 
 
 It 's little for blushin' they care 
 
 Down there ; 
 
 Put his arm round her waist, 
 
 Gave ten kisses at laste, 
 
 " Oh," says he, " you 're my Molly Malone, 
 
 My own ; 
 
 Oh," says he, " you 're my Molly Malone." 
 
 And the widow they all thought so shy, 
 
 My eye ! 
 
 Ne'er thought of a simper or sigh, 
 
 For why ? 
 
 But " Lucius," says she, 
 
 " Since you 've made now so free, 
 
 You may marr}^ your Mary ^lalone, 
 
 Ohone ! 
 
 You may marry your Mary Malone." 
 
 There 's a moral contained in my song. 
 
 Not wrong; 
 
 And one comfort it 's not very long, 
 
 But strong ; 
 
 If for widows you die, 
 
 Larn to kiss, not to sicjh. 
 
 For they 're all like sweet Mistress Malone, 
 
 Ohone ! 
 
 Oh, they 're very like Mistress Malone. 
 
 Never did song create such a sensation as Miss Macan's ; 
 and certainly her desires as to the chorus were followed to
 
 160 CHARLES O'MAXLEY. 
 
 the letter, for "The Widow Malone, ohone!" resounded 
 from oue end of the table to the other, amidst one universal 
 shout of laughter. None could resist the ludicrous effect of 
 her melody ; and even poor Sir George, sinking under the 
 disgrace of his relationship, which she had contrived to 
 make public by frequent allusions to her '' dear brother the 
 general," yielded at last, and joined in the mirth around 
 him. 
 
 " I insist upon a copy of ' The Widow,' Miss Macan," said 
 Power. 
 
 " To be sure ; give me a call to-morrow, — let me see, — 
 about two. Father Magrath won't be at home," said she, 
 with a coquettish look.- 
 
 " Where, pray, may I pay my respects ? " 
 
 " No. 22 South Anne Street, — very respectable lodgings. 
 I '11 write the address in your pocket-book." 
 
 Power produced a card and pencil, while Miss Macan 
 wrote a few lines, saying, as she handed it : — 
 
 " There, now, don't read it here before the people ; they '11 
 think it mighty indelicate in me to make an appointment." 
 
 Power pocketed the card, and the next minute Miss 
 Macau's carriage was announced. 
 
 Sir George Dashwood, who little flattered himself that his 
 fair guest had any intention of departure, became now most 
 considerately attentive, reminded her of the necessity of 
 muffling against the night air, hoped she would escape cold, 
 and wished her a most cordial good-night, with a promise 
 of seeiu'g her early the following day. 
 
 Notwithstanding Power's ambition to engross the atten- 
 tion of the lady, Sir George himself saw her to her carriage, 
 and only returned to the room as a group was collecting 
 around the gallant captain, to whom he was relating some 
 capital traits of his late conquest, — for such he dreamed 
 she was. 
 
 " Doubt it who will," said he, " she has invited me to call 
 on her to-morrow, written her address on my card, told me 
 the hour she is certain of being alone. See here ! " At these 
 words he pulled forth the card, and handed it to Lechmere. 
 
 Scarcely were the eyes of the other thrown upon the writ- 
 ing, when he said, "So, this is n't it. Power."
 
 THE BALL. 161 
 
 "To be sure it is, man," said Power. "Anne Street is 
 devilish seedy, but that 's the quarter." 
 
 " Wliy, confound it, man!" said the other; "there's not 
 a word of that here." 
 
 " Read it out," said Power. " Proclaim aloud my victory." 
 
 Thus urged, Lechmere read : — 
 
 Dear P., — 
 
 Please pay to my credit, — and soon, mark ye ! — the two ponies 
 lost this evening. I have done myself the pleasure of enjoying your 
 ball, kissed the lady, quizzed the papa, and walked into the cunning 
 Fred Power. Yours, 
 
 Frank Webber. 
 
 " The Widow Malone, ohone I " is at your service. 
 
 Had a thunderbolt fallen at his feet, his astonishment 
 could not have equalled the result of this revelation. He 
 stamped, swore, raved, laughed, and almost went deranged. 
 The joke was soon spread through the room, and from Sir 
 George to poor Lucy, now covered with blushes at her part 
 in the transaction, all was laughter and astonishment. 
 
 " Who is he ? That is the question," said Sir George, who, 
 with all the ridicule of the affair hanging over him, felt no 
 common relief at the discovery of the imposition. 
 
 "A friend of O'Malley's," said Power, delighted, in his 
 defeat, to involve another with himself. 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the general, regarding me with a look of 
 a very mingled cast. 
 
 " Quite true, sir," said T, replying to the accusation that 
 his manner implied ; " but equally so, that I neither knew 
 of his plot nor recognized him when here." 
 
 " I am perfectly sure of it, my boy," said the general ; 
 " and, after all, it was an excellent joke, — carried a little 
 too far, it 's true ; eh, Lucy ? " 
 
 But Lucy either heard not, or affected not to hear ; and 
 after some little further assurance that he felt not the least 
 annoyed, the general turned to converse with some other 
 friends ; while I, burning with indignation against Webber, 
 took a cold farewell of Miss Dashwood, and retired. 
 
 VOL. I. — 11
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE L^ST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 
 
 How I might have met Master Webber after his imper- 
 sonation of Miss Macan, I cannot possibly figure to myself. 
 Fortunately, indeed, for all parties, he left town early the 
 next morning ; and it was some weeks ere he returned. In 
 the meanwhile I became a daily visitor at the general's, 
 dined there usually three or four times a week, rode out with 
 Lucy constantly, and accompanied her every evening either 
 to the theatre or into society. Sir George, possibly from 
 my youth, seemed to pay little attention to an intimacy 
 which he perceived every hour growing closer, and fre- 
 quently gave his daughter into my charge in our morning 
 excursions on horseback. As for me, my happiness was all 
 but perfect. I loved, and already began to hope that I was 
 not regarded with indifference ; for although Lucy's manner 
 never absolutely evinced any decided preference towards 
 me, yet many slight and casual circumstances served to show 
 me that my attentions to her were neither unnoticed nor un- 
 cared for. Among the many gay and dashing companions 
 of our rides, I remarked that, however anxious for such a 
 distinction, none ever seemed to make any way in her good 
 graces ; and I had already gone far in my self-dece})tion 
 that I was destined for good fortune, when a circumstance 
 which occurred one morning at length served to Open my 
 eyes to the truth, and blast by one fatal breath the whole 
 harvest of my hopes. 
 
 We were about to set out one morning on a long ride, 
 when Sir George's presence was reqiiired by the arrival of 
 an officer who had been sent from the Horse Guards on 
 official business. After half an hour's delay. Colonel Cam- 
 eron, the officer in question, was introduced, and entered 
 into conversation with our party. He had only landed in 
 England from the Peninsula a few days before, and had
 
 THE LAST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 163 
 
 abundant information of the stirring events enacting there. 
 At the conclusion of an anecdote, — I forget what, — he 
 turned suddenly round to Miss Dashwood, Avho was stand- 
 ing beside me, and said in a low voice : — 
 
 "And now, Miss Dashwood, I am reminded of a com- 
 mission I promised a very old brother officer to perform. 
 Can I have one moment's conversation with you in the 
 window ? " 
 
 As he spoke, I perceived that he crumpled beneath his 
 glove something like a letter. 
 
 " To me ? " said Lucy, with a look of surprise that sadly 
 puzzled me whether to ascribe it to coquetry or innocence, 
 — "to me?" 
 
 "To you," said the colonel, bowing; "and I am sadly 
 deceived by my friend Hammersley — " 
 
 " Captain Hammersley ? " said she, blushing deeply as 
 she spoke. 
 
 I heard no more. She turned towards the window with 
 the coL)nel, and all I saw was that he handed her a letter, 
 which, having hastily broken open and thrown her eyes 
 over, she grew at first deadly pale, then red, and while her 
 eyes filled with tears, I heard her say, " How like him ! 
 How truly generous this is ! " I listened for no more ; my 
 brain was wheeling round and my senses reeling. I turned 
 and left the room ; in another moment I was on my horse, 
 galloping from the spot, despair, in all its blackness, in my 
 heart, and in my broken-hearted misery, wishing for death. 
 
 I was miles away from Dublin ere I remembered well 
 what had occurred, and even then not over clearly. The 
 fact that Lucy Dashwood, whom I imagined to be my own 
 in heart, loved another, was all that I really knew. That 
 one thought was all my mind was capable of, and in it my 
 misery, my wretchedness were centred. 
 
 Of all the grief my life has known, I have had no moments 
 like the long hours of that dreary night. My sorrow, in 
 turn, took every shape and assumed every guise. Now I 
 remembered how the Dashwoods had courted my intimacy 
 and encouraged my visits, — how Lucy herself had evinced 
 in a thousand ways that she felt a preference for me. I 
 called to mind the many unequivocal proofs I had given
 
 164 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 her that my feeling at least was no common one ; and yet, 
 how had she sported with my affections, and jested with 
 my happiness ! That she loved Hammersley I had now a 
 palpable proof. That this affection must have been mutual, 
 and prosecuted at the very moment I was not only pro- 
 fessing my own love for her, but actually receiving all but 
 an avowal of its return, — oh, it was too, too base ! and in 
 my deepest heart I cursed my folly, and vowed never to 
 see her more. 
 
 It was late on the next day ere I retraced my steps 
 towards town, my heart sad and heavy, careless what be- 
 came of me for the future, and pondering whether I should 
 not at once give up my college career and return to my 
 uncle. When I reached my chambers, all was silent and 
 comfortless ; Webber had not returned ; my servant was 
 from home ; and I felt myself more than ever wretched 
 in the solitude of what had been so oft the scene of noisy 
 and festive gayety. I sat some hours in a half-musing 
 state, every sad depressing thought that blighted hopes can 
 conjure up rising in turn before me. A loud knocking at 
 the door at length aroused me. I got up and opened it. 
 No one was there. I looked around as well as the coming 
 gloom of evening would permit, but saw nothing. I lis- 
 tened, and heard, at some distance off, my friend Power's 
 manly voice as he sang, — 
 
 " Oh, love is the soul of an Irish dragoon! " 
 
 I hallooed out, " Power ! " 
 
 " Eh, O'Malley, is that you ? " inquired he. " Why, then, 
 it seems it required some deliberation whether you opened 
 your door or not. Why, man, you can have no great gift of 
 prophecy, or you would n't have kept me so long there." 
 
 " And have you been so ? " 
 
 *• Only twenty minutes ; for as T saw the key in the lock, 
 I had determined to succeed if noise would do it." 
 
 " How strange ! I never heard it." 
 
 " Glorious sleeper you must be ; but come, my dear fel- 
 low, you don't appear altogether awake yet." 
 
 " I have not been quite well these few days." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! The Dashwoods thought there must have
 
 THE LAST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 165 
 
 been something of that kind the matter by your brisk re- 
 treat. They sent me after you yesterday ; but wherever 
 you went, Heaven knows. I never could come up with you ; 
 so that your great news has been keeping these twenty-four 
 hours longer than need be." 
 
 " I am not aware what you allude to." 
 
 " Well, you are not over likely to be the wiser when you 
 hear it, if you can assume no more intelligent look than 
 that. Why, man, there 's great luck in store for you." 
 
 " As how, pray ? Come, Power, out with it ; though I 
 can't pledge myself to feel half as grateful for my good 
 fortune as I should do. What is it ? " 
 
 " You know Cameron ? " 
 
 " I have seen him," said I, reddening. 
 
 "Well, old Camy, as we used to call him, has brought 
 over, among his other news, your gazette." 
 
 " My gazette ! What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Confound your uncommon stupidity this evening ! I 
 mean, man, that you are one of us, — gazetted to the 14th 
 Light, — the best fellows for love, war, and whiskey that 
 ever sported a sabretasche. 
 
 ' Oh, love is the soul of an Irish dragoon ! ' 
 
 By Jove, I am as delighted to have rescued you from the 
 black harness of the King's Bench as though you had been 
 a prisoner there ! Know, then, friend Charley, that on 
 Wednesday we proceed to Fermoy, join some score of gal- 
 lant fellows, — all food for powdei^, — and, with the aid of 
 a rotten transport and the stormy winds that blow, will be 
 bronzing our beautiful faces in Portugal before the month 's 
 out. But come, now, let 's see about supper. Some of ours 
 are coming over here at eleven, and I promised them a 
 devilled bone ; and as it 's your last night among these 
 classic precincts, let us have a shindy of it." 
 
 While I despatched Mike to Morrison's to provide sup- 
 per, I heard from Power that Sir George Dashwood had 
 interested himself so strongly for me that I had obtained 
 my cornetcy in the 14th ; that, fearful lest any disappoint- 
 ment might arise, he had never mentioned the matter to 
 me, but that he had previously obtained my uncle's promise
 
 166 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 to concur in the arrangement if his negotiation succeeded. 
 It had so done, and now the long-sought-for object of many 
 days was within my grasp. But, alas, the circumstance 
 which lent it all its fascinations was a vanished dream ; 
 and "what but two days before had rendered my happiness 
 perfect, I listened to listlessly and almost without interest. 
 Indeed, my first impulse at finding that I owed my pro- 
 motion to Sir George was to return a positive refusal of 
 the cornetcy ; but then I remembered how deeply such con- 
 duct would hurt my poor uncle, to whom I never could give 
 an adequate explanation. So I heard Power in silence to 
 the end, thanked him sincerely for his own good-natured 
 kindness in the matter, which already, by the interest he 
 had taken in me, went far to heal the wounds that my own 
 solitary musings were deepening in my heart. At eighteen, 
 fortunately, consolations are attainable that become more 
 difficult at eight-and-twenty, and impossible at eight-and- 
 thirty. 
 
 While Power continued to dilate upon the delights of a 
 soldier's life — a theme which many a boyish dream had 
 long since made hallowed to my thoughts — I gradually 
 felt my enthusiasm rising, and a certain throbbing at my 
 heart betrayed to me that, sad and dispirited as I felt, 
 there was still within that buoyant spirit which youth pos- 
 sesses as its privilege, and which answers to the call of 
 enterprise as the war-horse to the trumpet. That a career 
 worthy of manhood, great, glorious, and inspiriting, opened 
 before me, coming so soon after the late downfall of ray 
 hopes, Avas in itself a source of such true pleasure that ere 
 long I listened to my friend, and heard his narrative with 
 breathless interest. A lingering sense of pique, too, had 
 its share in all this. I longed to come forward in some 
 manly and dashing part, where my youth might not be 
 ever remembered against me, and when, having brought 
 myself to the test, I might no longer be looked upon and 
 treated as a boy. 
 
 We were joined at length by the other officers of the 
 14th, and, to the number of twelve, sat down to supper. 
 
 It was to be my last night in Old Trinity, and we resolved 
 that the farewell should be a solemn one. Mansfield, one
 
 THE LAST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 167 
 
 of the wildest young fellows in the regiment, had vowed 
 that the leave-taking should be commemorated by some very 
 decisive and open expressions of our feelings, and had al- 
 ready made some progress in arrangements for blowing up 
 the great bell, which had more than once obtruded upon 
 our morning convivialities; but he was overruled by his 
 more discreet associates, and we at length assumed our 
 places at table, in the midst of which stood a hecatomb of 
 all my college equipments, cap, gown, bands, etc. A funeral 
 pile of classics was arrayed upon the hearth, surmounted by 
 my " Book on the Cellar," and a puuishment-roU waved its 
 length, like a banner, over the doomed heroes of Greece and 
 Rome. 
 
 It is seldom that any very determined attempt to be gay 
 par excellence has a perfect success, but certainly upon this 
 evening ours had. Songs, good stories, speeches, toasts, 
 high visions of the campaign before us, the wild excitement 
 which such a meeting cannot be free from, gradually, as the 
 wine passed from hand to hand, seized upon all, and about 
 four in the morning, such was the uproar we caused, and so 
 terrific the noise of our proceedings, that the accumulated 
 force of porters, sent one by one to demand admission, was 
 now a formidable body at the door, and Mike at last came 
 in to assure us that the bursar, — the most dread official of all 
 collegians, — was without, and insisted, with a threat of his- 
 heaviest displeasure in case of refusal, that the door should 
 be opened. 
 
 A committee of the whole house immediately sat upon 
 the question ; and it was at length resolved, nemine contror 
 dicetite, that the request should be complied with. A fresh 
 bowl of punch, in honor of our expected guest, was imme- 
 diately concocted, a new broil put on the gridiron, and 
 having seated ourselves with as great a semblance of de- 
 corum as four bottles a man admits of, Curtis the junior 
 captain, being most drunk, was deputed to receive the bursar 
 at the door, and introduce him to our august presence. 
 
 Mike's instructions were, that immediately on Dr. Stone 
 the bursar entering, the door was to be slammed to, and 
 none of his followers admitted. This done, the doctor waa 
 to be ushered in and left to our polite attentions.
 
 168 CHARLES O'JVIALLEY. 
 
 A fresh thundering from without scarcely left time for 
 further deliberation ; and at last Curtis moved towards the 
 door in execution of his mission. 
 
 " Is there any one there ? " said Mike, in a tone of most 
 unsophisticated innocence, to a rapping that, having lasted 
 three quarters of an hour, threatened now to break in the 
 panel. '* Is there any one there ? " 
 
 " Open the door this instant, — the senior bursar desires 
 you, — this instant." 
 
 " Sure it 's night, and we 're all in bed," said Mike. 
 
 " Mr. Webber, Mr. O'Malley," said the bursar, now boil- 
 ing with indignation, " I summon you, in the name of the 
 board, to admit me." 
 
 " Let the gemman in," hiccoughed Curtis ; and at the same 
 instant the heavy bars were withdrawn, and the door opened, 
 but so sparingly as with difficulty to permit the passage of 
 the burly figure of the bursar. 
 
 Forcing his way through, and regardless of what became 
 of the rest, he pushed on vigorously through the ante- 
 chamber, and before Curtis could perform his functions of 
 usher, stood in the midst of us. What were his feelings at 
 the scene before him. Heaven knows. The number of figures 
 in uniform at once betrayed how little his jurisdiction 
 extended to the great mass of the company, and he imme- 
 diately turned towards me. 
 
 "Mr. Webber — " 
 
 " O'Malley, if you please, Mr. Bursar," said I, bowing with 
 most ceremonious politeness. 
 
 " No matter, sir ; arcades amho, I believe." 
 
 "Both archdeacons," said Melville, translating, with a 
 look of withering contempt upon the speaker. 
 
 The doctor continued, addressing me, — 
 
 " May I ask, sir, if you believe yourself possessed of any 
 privilege for converting this university into a common 
 tavern ? " 
 
 " I wish to Heaven he did," said Curtis ; " capital tap your 
 old commons Avould make." 
 
 "Eeall}^, Mr. Bursar," replied I, modestly, "I had begun 
 to flatter myself that our little innocent gayety had inspired 
 you with the idea of joining our party."
 
 THE LAST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 169 
 
 " I humbly move that the old cove in the gown do take 
 the chair," sang out one. " All who are of this opinion say, 
 * Ay.' " A perfect yell of ayes followed this. " All who 
 are of the contrary say, ' iSTo.' The ayes have it." 
 
 Before the luckless doctor had a moment for thought, his 
 legs were lifted from under him, and he was jerked, rather 
 than placed, upon a chair, and put sitting upon the table. 
 
 "Mr. O'Malley, your expulsion within twenty -four 
 hours — " 
 
 " Hip, hip, hurra, hurra, hurra ! " drowned the rest, while 
 Power, taking off the doctor's cap, replaced it by a foraging 
 cap, very much to the amusement of the party. 
 
 "There is no penalty the law permits of that I shall 
 not — " 
 
 " Help the doctor," said Melville, placing a glass of 
 punch in his unconscious hand. 
 
 " Now for a ' Viva la Compagnie ! ' " said Telford, seating 
 himself at the piano, and playing the first bars of that well- 
 known air, to which, in our meetings, we were accustomed 
 to improvise a doggerel in turn. 
 
 " I drink to the graces, Law, Physic, Divinity, 
 
 Viva la Compagnie ! 
 And here's to the worthy old Bursar of Trinity, 
 
 Viva la Compagnie ! " 
 
 "Viva, viva la va!" etc., were chorussed with a shout 
 that shook the old walls, while PoAver took up the strain : 
 
 "Though with lace caps and gowns they look so like asses, 
 
 Viva la Compagnie ! 
 They 'd rather have punch than the springs of Parnassus, 
 
 Viva la Compagnie ! 
 What a nose the old gentleman has, by the way, 
 
 Viva la Compagnie ! 
 Since he smelt out the Devil from Botany Bay,^ 
 
 Viva la Compagnie ! '* 
 
 Words cannot give even the faintest idea of the poor 
 bursar's feelings while these demoniacal orgies were enact- 
 
 ^ Botany Bay was the slang name given by college men to a new square 
 rather remotely situated from the remainder of the college.
 
 170 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 ing around him. Held fast in his chair by Lechmere and 
 another, he glowered on the riotous mob around like a 
 maniac, and astonishment that sucli liberties could be taken 
 with one in his situation seemed to have surpassed even his 
 rage and resentment; and every now and then a stray 
 thought would flash across his mind that we were mad, — 
 a sentiment which, unfortunately, our conduct was but too 
 well calculated to inspire. 
 
 " So you 're the morning lecturer, old gentleman, and have 
 just dropi^ed in here in the way of business ; pleasant life 
 you must have of it," said Casey, now by far the most tipsy 
 man present. 
 
 "If you think, Mr. O'Malley, that the events of this 
 evening are to end here — " 
 
 " Very far from it. Doctor," said Power ; " I '11 draw up a 
 little account of the affair for ' Saunders.' They shall hear 
 of it in every corner and nook of the kingdom." 
 
 "The bursar of Trinity shall be a proverb for a good 
 fellow that loveth his lush," hiccoughed out Fegan. 
 
 "And if you believe that such conduct is academical," 
 said the doctor, with a withering sneer. 
 
 " Perhaps not," lisped Melville, tightening his belt ; " but 
 it 's devilish convivial, — eh, Doctor ? " 
 
 " Is that like him ? " said JMoreton, producing a caricature 
 which he had just sketched. 
 
 "Capital, — very good, — perfect. M'Cleary shall have 
 it in his window by noon to-day," said Power. 
 
 At this instant some of the combustibles disposed among 
 the rejected habiliments of my late vocation caught lire, 
 and squibs, crackers, and detonating shots went off on all 
 sides. The bursar, who had not been deaf to several hints 
 and friendly suggestions about setting lire to him, blowing 
 him up, etc., with one vigorous spring burst from his antago- 
 nists, and clearing the table at a bound, reached the floor. 
 Before he could be seized, he had gained the door, opened 
 it, and was away. We gave chase, yelling like so many 
 devils. But wine and punch, songs and speeches, had done 
 their work, and more than one among the pursuers measured 
 his length upon the pavement ; while the terrified bursar, 
 with the speed of terror, held on his way, and gained his
 
 ^i4-:&^yC(ZJ^ /n^aA^^y^Z^ ^^yy^i^n^c/i^ 
 
 ^
 
 THE LAST NIGHT' IN TRINITY. 171 
 
 chambers by about twenty yards in advance of Power and 
 Melville, whose pursuit only ended when the oaken panel 
 of the door shut tliem out from their victim. One loud 
 cheer beneath his window served for our farewell to our 
 friend, and we returned to my rooms. By this time a regi- 
 ment of those classic functionaries ycleped porters had 
 assembled around the door, and seemed bent upon giving 
 battle in honor of their maltreated ruler; but Power ex- 
 plained to them, in a neat speech replete with Latin quota- 
 tions, that their cause was a weak one, that we were more 
 than their match, and finally proposed to them to finish the 
 punch-bowl, to which we were really incompetent, — a mo- 
 tion that met immediate acceptance ; and old Duncan, with 
 his helmet in one hand and a goblet in the other, wished me 
 many happy days and every luck in this life as I stepped 
 from the massive archway, and took my last farewell of Old 
 Trinity. 
 
 Should any kind reader feel interested as to the ulterior 
 course assumed by the bursar, I have only to say that the 
 terrors of the " Board " were never fulminated against me, 
 harmless and innocent as I should have esteemed them. 
 The threat of giving publicity to the entire proceedings by 
 the papers, and the dread of figuring in a sixpenny carica- 
 ture in M'Cleary's window, were too much for the worthy 
 doctor, and he took the wiser course under the circum- 
 stances, and held his peace about the matter. I, too, have 
 done so for many a year, and only now recall the scene 
 among the wild transactions of early days and boyish follies.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE PHfENIX PARK. 
 
 What a glorious thing it is when our first waking 
 thoughts not only dispel some dark, depressing dream, but 
 arouse us to the consciousness of a new and bright career 
 suddenly opening before us, buoyant in hope, rich in promise 
 for the future ! Life has nothing better than this. The 
 bold spring by which the mind clears the depth that sepa- 
 rates misery from happiness is ecstasy itself ; and then what 
 a world of bright visions come teeming before us, — what 
 plans we form ; what promises we make to ourselves in 
 our own hearts ; how prolific is the dullest imagination ; 
 how excursive the tamest fancy, at such a moment ! In a 
 few short and fleeting seconds, the events of a whole life are 
 planned and pictured before us. Dreams of happiness and 
 visions of bliss, of which all our after-years are insufficient 
 to eradicate the prestige, come in myriads about us ; and 
 from that narrow aperture through which this new hope 
 pierces into our heart, a flood of light is poured that illu- 
 mines our path to the very verge of the grave. How many 
 a success in after-days is reckoned but as one step in 
 that ladder of ambition some boyish review has framed, 
 perhaps, after all, destined to be the first and only one ! 
 With what triumph we hail some goal attained, some object 
 of our wishes gained, less for its present benefit, than as the 
 accomplishment of some youthful prophecy, when picturing 
 to our hearts all that we would have in life, we whispered 
 within us the flattery of success. 
 
 Who is there who has not had some such moment ; and 
 who would exchange it, Avith all the delusive and deceptive 
 influences by which it comes surrounded, for the greatest 
 actual happiness he has partaken of? Alas, alas, it is 
 only in the boundless expanse of such imaginations, unreal 
 and fictitious as they are, that we are truly blessed ! Our
 
 THE PHCENIX PARK. 173 
 
 choicest blessings in life come even so associated with some 
 sources of care tliat the cup of enjoyment is not pure but 
 dregged in bitterness. 
 
 To such a world of bright anticipation did I awake on the 
 morning after the events I have detailed in the last chapter. 
 The first thing my eyes fell upon was an official letter from 
 the Horse Guards : — 
 
 ** The commander of the forces desires that Mr. O'AEalley will report 
 himself, immediately on the receipt of this letter, at the headt.|uarter8 
 of the regiment to which he is gazetted." 
 
 Few and simple as the lines were, how brimful of pleasure 
 they sounded to my ears. The regiment to which I was 
 gazetted ! And so I was a soldier at last ! The first wish 
 of my boyhood was then really accomplished. And my 
 uncle, what will he say ; what will he think ? 
 
 " A letter, sir, by the post," said Mike, at the moment. 
 
 I seized it eagerly ; it came from home, but was in Con- 
 sidine's handwriting. How my heart failed me as I turned 
 to look at the seal. '' Thank God ! " said I, aloud, on per- 
 ceiving that it was a red one. I now tore it open and 
 read : — 
 
 My dear Charley, — Godfrey, being laid up with the gout, has 
 desired me to write to you by this day's post. Your appointment to 
 the 14th, notwithstanding all his prejudices about the army, has 
 given him sincere pleasure. I believe, between ourselves, that your 
 collecje career, of which he has heard something, convinced him that 
 your forte did not lie in the classics ; you know I said so always, but 
 nobody minded me. Your new prospects are all that your best friends 
 could wish for j'ou : you begin early ; your corps is a crack one ; you 
 are ordered for service. What could you have more ? 
 
 Your uncle hopes, if you can get a few days' leave, that you will 
 come down here before you join, and I hope so too ; for he is unu- 
 sually low-spirited, and talks about his never seeing you again, and 
 all that sort of thing. 
 
 I have written to Merivale, your colonel, on this subject, as well 
 as generally on your behalf. We were comets together forty years 
 ago. A strict fellow you '11 find him, but a trump on service. If 
 you can't manage the leave, write a long letter home at all events. 
 And so, God bless you, and all success ! 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 W. CONSIDINB,
 
 174 CHARLES O'MAXLEY. 
 
 I had thought of writing you a long letter of advice for your new 
 career ; and, indeed, half accomplished one. After all, however, I 
 oan tell you little that your own good sense will not teach you as you 
 go on ; and experience is ever better than precept. I know of but 
 one rule in life which admits of scarcely any exception, and having 
 followed it upwards of sixty years, approve of it only tlie more : 
 Never quarrel when you can help it; but meet any man, — your 
 tailor, your hairdresser, — if he wishes to have you out. 
 
 W. C. 
 
 I had scarcely come to the end of this very characteristic 
 epistle, when two more letters were placed upon my table. 
 One was from Sir George Dashwood, inviting me to dinner 
 to meet some of my " brother officers." How my heart beat 
 at the ex])ression. The other was a short note, marked 
 "Private," from my late tutor, Dr. Mooney, saying, "that 
 if I made a suitable apology to the bursar for the late affair 
 at my room, he might probably be induced to abandon any 
 further step ; otherwise — " then followed innumerable 
 threats about fine, penalties, expulsion, etc., that fell most 
 harmlessly upon my ears. I accepted the invitation ; de- 
 clined the apology ; and having ordered my horse, cantered 
 off to the barracks to consult my friend Power as to all the 
 minor details of my career. 
 
 As the dinner hour grew near, my thoughts became again 
 fixed upon Miss Dashwood ; and a thousand misgivings 
 crossed my mind as to whether I should have nerve enough 
 to meet her, without disclosing in my manner the altered 
 state of my feelings ; a possibility which I now dreaded 
 fully as much as I had longed some days before to avow my 
 affection for her, however slight its prospect of return. All 
 my valiant resolves and well-contrived plans for appearing 
 unmoved and indifferent in her presence, with which I 
 stored my mind while dressing and when on the way to 
 dinner, were, however, needless, for it was a party exclu- 
 sively of men ; and as the coffee was served in the dining- 
 room, no move was made to the drawing-room by any of 
 the company. "Quite as well as it is ! " was my muttered 
 opinion, as I got into my cab at the door. " All is at an end 
 as regards me in her esteem, and I must not spend my days 
 sighing for a young lady that cares for another." Very rea-
 
 TPIE PHCENIX PARK. 175 
 
 sonable, very proper resolutions these ; but, alas ! I went 
 liome to bed, only to think half the night long of the fair 
 Lucy, and dream of her the remainder of it. 
 
 When morning dawned my first thought was. Shall I see 
 her once more ? Shall I leave her forever thus abruptly ? 
 Or, rather, shall I not unburden my bosom of its secret, 
 confess my love, and say farewell ? I felt such a course 
 much more in unison with my wishes than the day before ; 
 and as Power had told me that before a week we should 
 present ourselves at Fermoy, I knew that no time was to be 
 lost. 
 
 My determination was taken. I ordered my horse, and 
 early as it was, rode out to the Royal Hospital. My heart 
 beat so strongly as I rode up to the door that I half resolved 
 to return. I rang the bell. Sir George was in town. Miss 
 Dashwood had just gone, five minutes before, to spend some 
 days at Carton. "It is fate !" thought I as I turned from 
 the spot and walked slowly beside my horse towards Dublin. 
 
 In the few days that intervened before my leaving town, 
 my time was occupied from morning to night ; the various 
 details of my uniform, outfit, etc., were undertaken for me 
 by Power. My horses were sent for to Gal way ; and I my- 
 self, with innumerable persons to see, and a mass of busi- 
 ness to transact, contrived at least three times a day to 
 ride out to the Eoyal Hospital, always to make some trifling 
 inquiry for Sir George, and always to hear repeated that 
 Miss Dashwood had not returned. 
 
 Thus passed five of my last six days in Dublin ; and as 
 the morning of the last opened, it was with a sorrowing 
 spirit that I felt my hour of departure approach without 
 one only opportunity of seeing Lucy, even to say good-by. 
 
 While Mike Avas packing in one corner, and I in another 
 was concluding a long letter to my poor uncle, my door 
 opened and Webber entered. 
 
 " Eh, O'Malley, I 'm only in time to say adieu, it seems. 
 To my surprise this morning I found you had cut the 
 * Silent Sister.' I feared I should be too late to catch one 
 glimpse of you ere you started for the wars." 
 
 "You are quite right, Master Frank, and I scarcely 
 expected to have seen you. Your last brilliant achieve-
 
 176 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 ment at Sir George's very nearly involved me in a serious 
 scrape." 
 
 " A mere trifle. How confoundedly silly Power must 
 have looked, eh ? Should like so much to have seen his 
 face. He booked up next day, — very proper fellow. By- 
 the-bye, O'Malley, I rather like the little girl ; she is 
 decidedly pretty, and her foot, — did you remark her foot ? 
 — capital." 
 
 " Yes, she 's very good-looking," said I, carelessly. 
 
 " I 'm thinking of cultivating her a little," said Webber, 
 pulling up his cravat and adjusting his hair at the glass. 
 " She 's spoiled by all the tinsel vaporing of her hussar and 
 aide-de-camp acquaintances; but something may be done 
 for her, eh ? " 
 
 " With your most able assistance and kind intentions." 
 
 " That 's what I mean exactly. Sorry you 're going, — 
 devilish sorry. You served out Stone gloriously : perhaps 
 it 's as well, though, — you know they 'd have expelled you ; 
 but still something might turn up. Soldiering is a bad style 
 of thing, eh ? How the old general did take his sister-in- 
 law's presence to heart ! But he must forgive and forget, 
 for I am going to be very great friends with him and 
 Lucy. Where are you going now ? " 
 
 " I am about to try a new horse before troops," said I. 
 " He 's stanch enough with the cry of the fox-pack in his 
 ears ; but I don't know how he '11 stand a peal of artillery." 
 
 " Well, come along," said Webber ; " I '11 ride with you." 
 So saying, we mounted and set off to the Park, where two 
 regiments of cavalry and some horse a.rtillery were ordered 
 for inspection. 
 
 The review was over when we reached the exercising 
 ground, and we slowly walked our horses towards the end 
 of the Park, intending to return to Dublin by the road. We 
 had not proceeded far, when, some hundred yards in ad- 
 vance, we perceived an officer riding with a lady, followed 
 by an orderly dragoon. 
 
 " There he goes," said Webber ; " I wonder if he 'd ask 
 me to dinner, if I were to throw myself in his way ? " 
 
 " Who do you mean ? " said I. 
 
 " Sir George Dashwood, to be sure, and, la voila, Miss
 
 THE PHCEXIX PARK. 177 
 
 Lucy. The little darling rides well, too ; how squarely she 
 sits her horse. O'Malley, I 've a weakness there ; upon my 
 soul I have." 
 
 " Very possible," said I ; " I am aware of another friend 
 of mine participating in the sentiment." 
 
 " One Charles O'Malley, of his Majesty's — " 
 
 " Nonsense, man ; no, no. I mean a very different person, 
 and, for all I can see, with some reason to hope for success." 
 
 " Oh, as to that, we flatter ourselves the thing does not 
 present any very considerable difficulties." 
 
 " As how, pray ? " 
 
 "Why, of course, like all such matters, a very decisive 
 determination to be, to do, and to suffer, as Lindley Murray 
 says, carries the day. Tell her she 's an angel every day 
 for three weeks. She may laugh a little at first, but she '11 
 believe it in the end. Tell her that you have not the 
 slightest prospect of obtaining her affections, but still per- 
 sist in loving her. That, finally, you must die from the 
 effects of despair, etc., but rather like the notion of it than 
 otherwise. That you know she has no fortune ; that you 
 have n't a sixpence ; and who should marry, if people whose 
 position in the world was similar did not ? " 
 
 " But halt ; pray, how are you to get time and place for 
 all such interesting conversations ? " 
 
 " Time and place ! Good Heavens, what a question ! Is 
 not every hour of the twenty -four the fittest ? Is not every 
 place the most suitable ? A sudden pause in the organ of 
 St. Patrick's did, it is true, catch me once in a declaration 
 of love, but the choir came in to my aid and drowned the 
 lady's answer. My dear O'Malley, what could prevent you 
 this instant, if you are so disposed, from doing the amiable 
 to the darling Lucy there ? " 
 
 " With the father for an umpire in case we disagreed,'* 
 said I. 
 
 " Not at all. I should soon get rid of him." 
 
 " Impossible, my dear friend." 
 
 " Come now, just for the sake of convincing your obsti- 
 nacy. If you like to say good-by to the little girl without 
 a witness, I '11 take off the he-dragon." 
 
 " You don't mean — " 
 
 VOL. I. — 12
 
 178 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "I do, man; I do mean it." So saying, he drew a crim- 
 son silk handkerchief from his pocket, and fastened it 
 round his waist like an ofl&cer's sash. This done, and tell- 
 ing me to keep in their wake for some mhiutes, he turned 
 from me, and was soon concealed by a copse of white-thorn 
 near us. 
 
 I had not gone above a hundred yards farther when I 
 heard Sir George's voice calling for the orderly. I looked 
 and saw Webber at a considerable distance in front, curvet- 
 ting and playing all species of antics. The distance be- 
 tween the general and myself was now so short that I 
 overheard the following dialogue with his sentry : — 
 
 " He 's not in uniform, then ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; he has a round hat." 
 
 " A round hat ! " 
 
 "His sash — " 
 
 " A sword and sash. This is too bad. I 'm determined 
 to find him out." 
 
 " How d' ye do. General ? " cried Webber, as he rode 
 towards the trees. 
 
 " Stop, sir ! " shouted Sir George. 
 
 " Good-day, Sir George," replied Webber, retiring. 
 
 "Stay where you are, Lucy," said the general as, dash- 
 ing spurs into his horse, he sprang forward at a gallop, 
 incensed beyond endurance that his most strict orders 
 should be so openly and insultingly transgressed. 
 
 Webber led on to a deep hollow, where the road passed 
 between two smooth slopes, covered with furze-trees, and 
 from which it emerged afterwards in the thickest and most 
 intricate part of the Park. Sir George dashed boldly 
 after, and in less than half a minute both were lost to 
 my view, leaving me in breathless amazement at Master 
 Frank's ingenuity, and some puzzle as to my own future 
 movements. 
 
 " Now then, or never ! " said I, as I pushed boldly for- 
 ward, and in an instant was alongside of Miss Dashwood. 
 
 Her astonishment at seeing me so suddenly increased the 
 confusion from which I felt myself suffering, and for some 
 minutes I could scarcely speak. At last I plucked up cour- 
 age a little, and said : —
 
 THE PHCENIX PARK. 179 
 
 "Miss Dash wood, I have looked most anxiously, for the 
 last four days, for the moment which chance has now given 
 me. I wished, before I parted forever with those to whom 
 I owe already so much, that I should at least speak my 
 gratitude ere I said good-by." 
 
 " But when do you think of going ? " 
 
 "To-morrow. Captain Power, under whose command I 
 am, has received orders to embark immediately for 
 Portugal." 
 
 I thought — perhaps it was but a thought — that her cheek 
 grew somewhat paler as I spoke ; but she remained silent ; 
 and I, scarcely knowing what I had said, or whether I had 
 finished, spoke not either. 
 
 "Papa, I'm sure, is not aware," said she, after a long 
 pause, " of your intention of leaving so soon, for only last 
 night he spoke of some letters he meant to give you to 
 some friends in the Peninsula; besides, I know," here she 
 smiled faintly, — "that he destined some excellent advice 
 for your ears, as to your new path in life, for he has an im- 
 mense opinion of the value of such to a young officer." 
 
 "I am, indeed, most grateful to Sir George, and truly 
 never did any one stand more in need of counsel than I 
 do." This was said half musingly, and not intended to be 
 heard. 
 
 "Then, pray, consult papa," said she, eagerly; "he is 
 much attached to you, and will, I am certain, do all in his 
 power — " 
 
 " Alas ! I fear not. Miss Dashwood." 
 
 "Wliy, what can you mean. Has anything so serious 
 occurred ? " 
 
 " No, no ; I 'm but misleading you, and exciting your sym-' 
 pathy with false pretences. Should I tell you all the truth, 
 you would not pardon, perhaps not hear me." 
 
 " You have, indeed, puzzled me ; but if there is anything 
 in which my father — " 
 
 " Less him than his daughter," said I, fixing my eyes full 
 upon her as I spoke. " Yes, Lucy, I feel I must confess it, 
 cost what it may ; I love you. Stay, hear me out ; I know 
 the fruitlessness, the utter despair, that awaits such a senti- 
 ment. My own heart tells me that I am not, cannot be,
 
 180 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 loved in retiirn ; yet would I rather cherish in its core my 
 affection, slighted and unblessed, such as it is, than own 
 another heart, I ask for nothing, I hope for nothing; I 
 merely entreat that, for my truth, I may meet belief, and 
 for my heart's worship of her whom alone I can love, com- 
 passion. 'I see that you at least pity me. Nay, one word 
 more ; I have one favor more to ask, — it is my last, my only 
 one. Do not, when time and distance may have separated 
 us, perhaps forever, think that the expressions I now use 
 are prompted by a mere sudden ebullition of boyish feeling ; 
 do not attribute to the circumstance of my youth alone the 
 warmth of the attachment I profess, — for I swear to you, by 
 every hope that I have, that in my heart of hearts my love 
 to you is the source and spring of every action in my life, 
 of every aspiration in my heart ; and when I cease to love 
 you, I shall cease to feel. 
 
 " And now, farewell, — farewell forever ! " I pressed her 
 hand to my lips, gave one long, last look, turned my horse 
 rapidly away, and ere a minute was far out of sight of where 
 I had left her.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE ROAD. 
 
 Power was detained in town by some orders from the 
 adjutant-general, so that I started for Cork the next morn- 
 ing with no other companion than my servant Mike. For 
 the first few stages upon the road, my own thoughts suffi- 
 ciently occupied me to render me insensible or indifferent to 
 all else. My opening career, the prospects my new life as 
 a soldier held out, my hopes of distinction, my love of Lucy 
 with all its train of doubts and fears, passed in review before 
 me, and I took no note of time till far past noon. I now 
 looked to the back part of the coach, where Mike's voice had 
 been, as usual, in the ascendant for some time, and perceived 
 that he was surrounded by an eager auditory of four raw 
 recruits, who, under the care of a sergeant, were proceeding 
 to Cork to be enrolled in their regiment. The sergeant, 
 whose minutes of wakefulness were only those when the 
 coach stopped to change horses, and when he got down to 
 mix a " summat hot," paid little attention to his followers, 
 leaving them perfectly free in all their movements, to listen 
 to Mike's eloquence and profit by his suggestions, should 
 they deem fit. Master Michael's services to his new ac- 
 quaintances, I began to perceive, were not exactly of the 
 same nature as Dibdin is reported to have rendered to our 
 navy in the late war. Far from it. His theme was no con- 
 temptuous disdain for danger; no patriotic enthusiasm to 
 fight for home and country ; no proud consciousness of British 
 valor, mingled with the appropriate hatred of our mutual ene- 
 mies, — on the contrary, Mike's eloquence was enlisted for the 
 defendant. He detailed, and in no unimpressive way either, 
 the hardships of a soldier's life, — its dangers, its vicissi- 
 tudes, its chances, its possible penalties, its inevitably small 
 rewards ; and, in fact, so completely did he work on the feel- 
 ings of his hearers that I perceived more than one glance
 
 182 CHARLES O'M^VLLEY. 
 
 exchanged between the victims tliat certainly betokened any- 
 thing save the resolve to iight for King George. It was at 
 the close of a long and most powerful appeal upon the supe- 
 riority of any other line in life, petty larceny and small 
 felony inclusive, that he concluded with the following 
 quotation : — 
 
 '* Thrue for* ye, boys ! 
 
 ' With your red scarlet coat, 
 You 're as proud as a goat, 
 
 And your long cap and feather.' 
 
 But, by the piper that played before Moses ! it 's more 
 whipping nor gingerbread is going on among them, av ye 
 knew but all, and heerd the misfortune that happened to 
 my father." 
 
 " And was he a sodger ? " inquired one. 
 
 *' Troth was he, more sorrow to him ; and was n't he a'most 
 whipped one day for doing what he was bid '? " 
 
 " Musha, but that was hard ! "' 
 
 " To be sure it was hard ; but f aix, when my father seen 
 that they didn't know their own minds, he thought, any- 
 how, he knew his, so he ran away, — and devil a bit of him 
 they ever cotch afther. May be ye might like to hear the 
 story ; and there 's instruction in it for yez, too." 
 
 A general request to this end being preferred by the com- 
 pany, Mike took a shrewd look at the sergeant, to be sure 
 that he was still sleeping, settled his coat comfortably across 
 his knees, and began : — 
 
 *' Well, it 's a good many years ago my father 'listed in 
 the North Cork, just to oblige Mr. Barry, the landlord there. 
 * For,' says he, ' Phil,' says he, ' it 's not a soldier ye '11 be at 
 all, but my own man, to brush my clothes and go errands, 
 and the like o' that ; and the king, long life to him ! will 
 help to pay ye for your trouble. Ye understand me ? ' 
 Well, my father agreed, and Mr. Barry was as good as his 
 word. Never a guard did my father mount, nor as much as 
 a drill had he, nor a roll-call, nor anything at all, save and 
 except wait on the captain, his master, just as pleasant as 
 need be, and no inconvenience in life. 
 
 " Well, for three years this went on as I am telling, and
 
 THE ROAD. ' 183 
 
 the regiment was ordered down to Bantry, because of a re- 
 port that the ' boys ' was rising down there ; and the second 
 evening there was a night party patrolling with Captain 
 Barry for six hours in the rain, and the captain, God be 
 marciful to him ! tuk could and died. More by token, they 
 said it was drink, but my father says it was n't : ' for,' says 
 he, 'after he tuk eight tumblers comfortable,' my father 
 mixed the ninth, and the captain waived his hand this way, 
 as much as to say he 'd have no more. ' Is it that ye mean ? ' 
 says my father ; and the captain nodded. ' Musha, but it 's 
 sorry I am,' says my father, ' to see you this way ; for ye 
 must be bad entirely to leave off in the beginning of the 
 evening.' And thrue for him, the captain was dead in the 
 morning. 
 
 " A sorrowful day it was for my father when he died. It 
 was the finest place in the world ; little to do, plenty of di- 
 varsion, and a kind man he was, — when he was drunk. 
 Well, then, when the captain was buried and all was over, 
 my father hoped they 'd be for letting him away, as he said, 
 ' Sure, I 'm no use in life to anybody, save the man that 's 
 gone, for his ways are all I know, and I never was a sodger.' 
 But, upon my conscience, they had other thoughts in their 
 heads, for they ordered him into the ranks to be drilled just 
 like the recruits they took the day before. 
 
 "'Musha, is n't th^s hard ? ' said my father. ' Here I am, 
 an ould vitrin that ought to be discharged on a pension with 
 two-and-sixpence a day, obliged to go capering about the bar- 
 rack-yard, practising the goose-step, or some other nonsense 
 not becoming my age nor my habits.' But so it was. Well, 
 this went on for some time, and sure, if they were hard on 
 my father, had n't he his revenge ; for he nigh broke their 
 hearts with his stupidity. Oh, nothing in life could equal 
 him ! Devil a thing, no matter how easy, he could learn at 
 all ; and so far from caring for being in confinement, it was 
 that he liked best. Every sergeant in the regiment had a 
 trial of him, but all to no good ; and he seemed striving so 
 hard to learn all the while that they were loath to punish 
 him, the ould rogue ! 
 
 " This was going on for some time, when, one day, news 
 came in that a body of the rebels, as they called them, was
 
 184 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 coming down from the Gap of Mulnavick to storm the town 
 and burn all before them. The whole regiment was of coorse 
 under arms, and great preparations was made for a battle. 
 Meanwhile patrols were ordered to scour the roads, and sen- 
 tries posted at every turn of the way and every rising ground 
 to give warning when the boys came in sight ; and my father 
 was placed at the Bridge of Drumsnag, in the wildest and 
 bleakest part of the whole country, with nothing but furze 
 mountains on every side, and a straight road going over the 
 top of them. 
 
 " ' This is pleasant,' says my father, as soon as they left 
 him there alone by himself, with no human creature to speak 
 to, nor a whiskey-shop within ten miles of him ; ' cowld com- 
 fort,' says he, ' on a winter's day ; and faix, but I have a 
 mind to give ye the slip.' 
 
 " Well, he put his gun down on the bridge, and he lit his 
 pipe, and he sat down under an ould tree and began to rumi- 
 nate upon his affairs. 
 
 " ' Oh, then, it 's wishing it well I am,' says he, ' for sodger- 
 ing ; and bad luck to the hammer that struck the shilling 
 that 'listed me, that's all,' for he was mighty low in his 
 heart. 
 
 "Just then a noise came rattling down near him. He 
 listened, and before he could get on his legs, down comes 
 the general, ould Cohoon, with an orderly after him. 
 
 " * Who goes there ? ' says my father. 
 
 " ' The round,' says the general, looking about all the time 
 to see where was the sentry, for my father was snug under 
 the tree. 
 
 " ' What round ? ' says my father, 
 
 " ' The grand round,' says the general, more puzzled than 
 afore. 
 
 " ' Pass on, grand round, and God save you kindly ! ' says 
 my father, putting his pipe in his movith again, for he thought 
 all was over. 
 
 " ' D — n yoiir soul, where are you ? ' says the general, for 
 sorrow bit of my father could he see yet. 
 
 " ' It 's here I am,' says he, ' and a cowld place I have of 
 it; and if it was n't for the pipe I 'd be lost entirely.' 
 
 " The words was n't well out of his mouth when the gen-
 
 THE ROAD. 185 
 
 eral began laughing, till ye 'd think he 'd fall off his horse ; 
 and the dragoon behind him — more by token, they say it 
 wasn't right for him — laughed as loud as himself. 
 
 "'Yer a droll sentry/ says the general, as soon as he 
 could speak. 
 
 '•' ' Be-gorra, it 's little fun there 's left in me,' says my 
 father, ' with this drilling, and parading, and blackguarding 
 about the roads all night.' 
 
 " * And is this the way you salute your officer ? ' says the 
 general. 
 
 " ' Just so,' says my father ; ' devil a more politeness ever 
 they taught me.' 
 
 " ' What regiment do you belong to ? ' says the general. 
 
 " ' The North Cork, bad luck to them ! ' says my father, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " ' They ought to be proud of ye/ says the general. 
 
 "'I'm sorry for it,' says my father, sorrowfully, 'for 
 may be they '11 keep me the longer.' 
 
 "'Well, my good fellow,' says the general, 'I haven't 
 more time to waste here ; but let me teach you something 
 before I go. Whenever your officer passes, it's your duty 
 to present to him.' 
 
 " ' Arrah, it 's jokin' ye are,' says my father. 
 
 " * No, I 'm in earnest,' says he, ' as ye might learn, to 
 your cost, if I brought you to a court-martial.' 
 
 " ' Well, there 's no knowing,' says my father, ' what 
 they 'd be up to ; but sure, if that 's all, I '11 do it, with all 
 " the veins," whenever yer coming this way again.' 
 
 " The general began to laugh again here ; but said, — 
 
 " ' I 'm coming back in the evening,' says he, ' and mind 
 you don't forget your respect to your officer.' 
 
 " ' Never fear, sir,' says my father ; ' and many thanks to 
 you for your kindness for telling me.' 
 
 " Away went the general, and the orderly after him, and 
 in ten minutes they were out of sight. 
 
 " The night was falling fast, and one half of the moun- 
 tain was quite dark already, when my father began to think 
 they were forgetting him entirely. He looked one way, and 
 he looked another, but sorra bit of a sergeant's guard was 
 coming to relieve him. There he was, fresh and fasting,
 
 186 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 and dare n't go for the bare life. 'I'll give yon a quarter 
 of an hour more,' says my father, ' till the light leaves that 
 rock up there ; after that,' says he, ' by the Mass ! I '11 be 
 off, aA' it cost me what it may.' 
 
 " Well, sure enough, his courage was not needed this 
 time ; for what did he see at the same moment but a 
 shadow of something coming down the road opposite the 
 bridge. He looked again ; and then he made out the gen- 
 eral himself, that was walking his horse down the steep 
 part of the mountain, followed by the orderly. My father 
 immediately took up his musket off the wall, settled his 
 belts, shook the ashes out of his pipe and put it into his 
 pocket, making himself as smart and neat-looking as he 
 could be, determining, when ould Cohoon came up, to ask 
 him for leave to go home, at least for the night. Well, by 
 this time the general was turning a sharp part of the cliff 
 that looks down upon the bridge, from where you might 
 look five miles round on every side. ' He sees me,' says my 
 father ; ' but I '11 be just as quick as himself.' No sooner 
 said than done ; for coming forward to the parapet of 
 the bridge, he up with his musket to his shoulder, and 
 presented it straight at the general. It was n't well there, 
 when the officer pulled up his horse quite short, and 
 shouted oiTt, ' Sentry ! sentry ! ' 
 
 " ' Anan ? ' says my father, still covering him. 
 
 "'Down with your musket you rascal. Don't you see it's 
 the grand round ? ' 
 
 " ' To be sure I do,' says my father, never changing for a 
 minute. 
 
 " ' The ruffian will shoot me,' says the general. 
 
 " ' Devil a fear,' says my father, ' av it does n't go off of 
 itself.' 
 
 " ' ^Yh.a.t do you mean by that, you villian ? ' says the 
 general, scarcely able to speak with fright, for every turn 
 he gave on his horse, my father followed with the gun, — 
 * what do you mean ? ' 
 
 " ' Sure, ain't I presenting ? ' says my father. ' Blood 
 an ages ! do you want me to lire next ? ' 
 
 " With that the general drew a pistol from his holster, 
 and took deliberate aim at my father ; and there they both
 
 THE ROAD. 187 
 
 stood for five minutes, looking at each other, the orderly all 
 the while breaking his heart laughing behind a rock ; for, 
 ye see, the general knew av he retreated that my father 
 might fire on jDurpose, and av he came on, that he might 
 fire by chance, — and sorra bit he knew what was best to be 
 done. 
 
 "'Are ye going to pass the evening up there, grand 
 round ? ' says my father ; ' for it 's tired I 'm getting 
 houldin' this so long.' 
 
 " ' Fort arms ! ' shouted the general, as if on parade. 
 
 " ' Sure I can't, till yer past,' says my father, angrily ; 
 * and my hands trembling already.' 
 
 " ' By Heavens ! I shall be shot,' says the general. 
 
 " ' Be-gorra, it 's what I 'm afraid of,' says my father ; 
 and the words was n't out of his mouth before off went the 
 musket, bang ! — and down fell the general, smack on the 
 ground, senseless. Well the orderly ran out at this, and 
 took him up and examined his wound ; but it was n't a 
 wound at all, only the wadding of the gun. For my father 
 — God be kind to him ! — ye see, could do nothing right ; 
 and so he bit off the wrong end of the cartridge when he 
 put it in the gun, and, by reason, there was no bullet in it. 
 Well, from that day after they never got a sight of him ; 
 for the instant that the general dropped, he sprang over 
 the bridge-wall and got away ; and what, between living in 
 a lime-kiln for two months, eating nothing but blackberries 
 and sloes, and other disguises, he never returned to the 
 army, but ever after took to a civil situation, and driv a 
 hearse for many years." 
 
 How far Mike's narrative might have contributed to the 
 support of his theory, I am unable to pronounce ; for his 
 auditory were, at some distance from Cork, made to descend 
 from their lofty position and join a larger body of recruits, 
 all proceeding to the same destination, under a strong 
 escort of infantry. For ourselves, we reached the "beau- 
 tiful city" in due time, and took up our quarters at the 
 Old George Hotel.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 CORK. 
 
 The undress rehearsal of a new piece, with its dirty- 
 booted actors, its cloaked and hooded actresses en iKipillote, 
 bears about the same relation to the gala, wax-lit, and be- 
 spangled ballet, as the raw young gentleman of yesterday 
 to the epauletted, belted, and sabretasched dragoon, whose 
 transformation is due to a few hours of head-quarters, and 
 a few interviews with the adjutant. 
 
 So, at least, I felt it ; and it was with a very perfect con- 
 currence in his Majesty's taste in a uniform, and a most 
 entire approval of the regimental tailor, that I strutted 
 down George's Street a few days after my arrival in Cork. 
 The transports had not as yet come round; there was a 
 great doubt of their doing so for a week or so longer ; 
 and I found myself as the dashing cornet, the centre of a 
 thousand polite attentions and most kind civilities. 
 
 The officer under whose orders I was placed for the time 
 was a great friend of Sir George Dashwood's, and paid me, 
 in consequence, much attention. Major Dairy mple had 
 been on the staff from the commencement of his military 
 career, had served in the commissariat for some time, 
 was much on foreign stations ; but never, by any of the 
 many casualties of his life, had he seen what could be called 
 service. His ideas of the soldier's profession were, there- 
 fore, what might almost be as readily picked up by a com- 
 mission in the battle-axe guards, as one in his Majesty's 
 Fiftieth. He was now a species of district paymaster, 
 employed in a thousand ways, either inspecting recruits, 
 examining accounts, revising sick certificates, or receiving 
 contracts for mess beef. Whether the nature of his mani- 
 fold occupations had enlarged the sphere of his talents and 
 ambition, or whether the abilities had suggested the variety 
 of his duties, I know not, but truly the major was a man of
 
 CORK. 189 
 
 all work. No sooner did a young ensign join his regiment 
 at Cork, than Major Dairy mple's card was left at his 
 quarters ; the next day came the major himself; the third 
 brought an invitation to dinner ; on the fourth he was told 
 to drop in, in the evening ; and from thenceforward, he 
 was the ami de la maison, in company with numerous others 
 as newly-fledged and inexperienced as himself. 
 
 One singular feature of the society at the house was that 
 although the major was as well known as the flag on Spike 
 Island, yet somehow, no ofiicer above the rank of an ensign 
 was ever to be met with there. It was not that he had not 
 a large acquaintance ; in fact, the " How are you, Major ? " 
 *' How goes it, Dalrymple ? " that kept everlastingly going 
 on as he walked the streets, proved the reverse ; but strange 
 enough, his predilections leaned towards the newly gazetted, 
 far before the bronzed and seared campaigners who had seen 
 the world, and knew more about it. The reasons for this 
 line of conduct were twofold. In the first place, there was 
 not an article of outfit, from a stock to a sword-belt, that he 
 could not and did not supply to the young officer, — from the 
 gorget of the infantry to the shako of the grenadier, all came 
 within his province ; not that he actually kept a viagasln of 
 these articles, but he had so completely interwoven his in- 
 terests with those of numerous shopkeepers in Cork that he 
 rarely entered a shop over whose door Dalrymple & Co. 
 might not have figured on the sign-board. His stables were 
 filled with a perfect infirmary of superanuated chargers, fat- 
 tened and conditioned up to a miracle, and groomed to per- 
 fection. He could get you — only you — about three dozen 
 of sherry to take out with you as sea-store ; he knew of such 
 a servant ; he chanced upon such a camp-furniture yester- 
 day in his w'alks ; in fact, why want for anything ? His re- 
 sources were inexhaustible ; his kindness unbounded. 
 
 Then money was no object, — hang it, you could pay when 
 you liked; what signified it? In other words, a bill at 
 thirty-one days, cashed and discounted by a friend of the 
 major's, would always do. While such were the unlimited 
 advantages his acquaintance conferred, the sphere of his 
 benefits took another range. The major had two daughters ; 
 Matilda and Fanny were as well known in the army as Lord
 
 190 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Fitzroy Somerset, or Picton, from the Isle of Wight to Hali- 
 fax, from Cape Coast to Chatham, from Belfast to the Ber- 
 mudas. Where was the subaltern who had not knelt at the 
 shrine of one or the other, if not of both, and vowed eternal 
 love until a change of quarters ? In plain words, the major's 
 solicitude for the service was such, that, not content with 
 providing the young officer with all the necessary outfit of 
 his profession, he longed also to supply him with a comforter 
 for his woes, a charmer for his solitary hours, in the person 
 of one of his amiable daughters. Unluckily, however, the 
 necessity for a wife is not enforced by " general orders," as 
 is the cut of your coat, or the length of your sabre ; conse- 
 quently, the major's success in the home department of his 
 diplomacy was not destined for the same happy results that 
 awaited it when engaged about drill trousers and camp ket- 
 tles, and the Misses Dalrymple remained misses through 
 every clime and every campaign. And yet, why was it so ? 
 It is hard to say. What would men have ? Matilda was a 
 dark-haired, dark-eyed, romantic-looking girl, with a tall 
 figure and a slender waist, with more poetry in her head 
 than would have turned any ordinary brain; always un- 
 happy, in need of consolation, never meeting with the kin- 
 dred spirit that understood her, destined to walk the world 
 alone, her fair thoughts smothered in the recesses of her own 
 heart. Devilish hard to stand this, when you began in a 
 kind of platonic friendship on both sides. More than one 
 poor fellow nearly succumbed, particularly when she came 
 to quote Cowley, and told him, with tears in her eyes, — 
 
 '' There are hearts that live and love alone," etc. 
 
 I 'm assured that this coup-de-grace rarely failed in being 
 followed by a downright avowal of open love, which, some- 
 how, what between the route coming, what Avith waiting for 
 leave from home, etc., never got further than a most tender 
 scene, and exchange of love tokens ; and, in fact, such be- 
 came so often the termination, that Power swears Matty 
 had to make a firm resolve about cutting off any more 
 hair, fearing a premature baldness during the recruiting 
 season.
 
 CORK. 191 
 
 Kow, Fanny had selected another arm of the service. 
 Her hair was fair ; her eyes blue, laughing, languishing, — 
 mischief-loving Blue, with long lashes, and a look in them 
 that was wont to leave its impression rather longer than you 
 exactly knew of ; then, her figure was petite, but perfect ; 
 her feet Canova might have copied; and her hand was a 
 study for Titian ; her voice, too, was soft and musical, but 
 full of that galete de cceur that never fails to charm. While 
 her sister's style was il li&nseroso, hers was V allegro ; every 
 imaginable thing, place, or person supplied food for her 
 mirth, and her sister's lovers all came in for their share. 
 She hunted with Smith Barry's hounds ; she yachted with 
 the Cove Club ; she coursed, practised at a mark with a 
 pistol, and played chicken hazard with all the cavalry, — for, 
 let it be remarked as a physiological fact, Matilda's admirers 
 were almost invariably taken from the infantry, while 
 Fanny's adorers were as regularly dragoons. Whether the 
 former be the romantic arm of the service, and the latter be 
 more adapted to dull realities, or whether the phenomenon 
 had any other explanation, I leave to the curious. Now, 
 this arrangement, proceeding upon that principle which has 
 wrought such wonders in Manchester and Sheffield, — the 
 division of labor, — was a most wise and equitable one, each 
 having her one separate and distinct field of action, in- 
 terference was impossible ; not but that when, as in the 
 present instance, cavalry was in the ascendant, Fanny would 
 willingly spare a dragoon or two to her sister, who likewise 
 would repay the debt when occasion offered. 
 
 The mamma — for it is time I should say something of 
 the head of the family — was an excessively fat, coarse- 
 looking, dark-skinned personage, of some fifty years, with a 
 voice like a boatswain in a quinsy. Heaven can tell, per- 
 haps, why the worthy major allied his fortunes with hers, 
 for she was evidently of a very inferior rank in society, 
 could never have been aught than downright ugly, and I 
 never heard that she brought him any money. " Spoiled 
 five," the national amusement of her age and sex in Cork, 
 scandal, the changes in the army list, the failures in specu- 
 lation of her luckless husband, the forlorn fortunes of the 
 girls, her daughters, kept her in occupation, and her days
 
 192 CHARLES O'MAXLEY. 
 
 were passed in one perpetual, unceasing current of dissatis- 
 faction and ill-temper with all around, that formed a heavy 
 counterpoise to the fascinations of the young ladies. The 
 repeated jiltings to which they had been subject had blunted 
 any delicacy upon the score of their marriage ; and if the 
 newly-introduced cornet or ensign was not coming forward, 
 as became him, at the end of the requisite number of days, 
 he was sure of receiving a very palpable admonition from 
 Mrs. Dalrymple. Hints, at first dimly shadowed, that Ma- 
 tilda was not in spirits this morning ; that Fanny, poor child, 
 had a headache, — directed especially at the culprit in ques- 
 tion, — grew gradually into those little motherly fondnesses 
 in mamma, that, like the fascination of the rattlesnake, only 
 lure on to ruin. The doomed man was pressed to dinner 
 when all others were permitted to take their leave ; he was 
 treated like one of the family, God help him ! After dinner, 
 the major would keep him an hour over his wine, discussing 
 the misery of an ill-assorted marriage ; detailing his own 
 happiness in marrying a woman like the Tonga Islander I 
 have mentioned ; hinting that girls should be brought up, 
 not only to become companions to their husbands, but with 
 ideas fitting their station ; if his auditor were a military 
 man, that none but an old officer (like him) could know how 
 to educate girls (like his) ; and that feeling he possessed 
 two such treasures, his whole aim in life was to guard and 
 keep them, — a difficult task, when proposals of the most 
 flattering kind were coming constantly before him. Then 
 followed a fresh bottle, during which the major would con- 
 sult his young friend upon a very delicate affair, — no less 
 than a proposition for the hand of Miss Matilda, or Fanny, 
 whichever he was supposed to be soft upon. This was gen- 
 erally a cou2)-de-maitre ; should he still resist, he was handed 
 over to Mrs. Dalrymple, with a strong indictment against 
 him, and rarely did he escape a heavy sentence. !N"ow, is it 
 not strange that two really pretty girls, with fully enough 
 of amiable and pleasing qualities to have excited the atten- 
 tion and won the affections of many a man, should have 
 gone on for years, — for, alas ! they did so in every climate, 
 under every sun, — to waste their sweetness in this misera- 
 ble career of intrigue and man-trap, and yet nothing come
 
 CORK. 193 
 
 of it ? But so it was. The first question a newly -landed 
 regiment was asked, if coming from where they resided, 
 was, " Well, how are the girls ? " " Oh, gloriously. Matty 
 is there." " Ah, indeed ! poor thing." •' Has Fan sported a 
 new habit ? " " Is it the old gray with the hussar braiding ? 
 Confound it, that was seedy when I saw them in Corfu. 
 And Mother Dal as fat and vulgar as ever ? " *' Dawson of 
 ours was the last, and was called up for sentence when we 
 were ordered away; of course, he bolted," etc. Such was 
 the invariable style of question and answer concerning them ; 
 and although some few, either from good feeling or fas- 
 tidiousness, relished but little the mode in which it had 
 become habitual to treat them, I grieve to say that, gen- 
 erally, they were pronounced fair game for every species of 
 flirtation and love-making without any " intentions " for the 
 future. I should not have trespassed so far upon my read- 
 ers' patience, were I not, in recounting these traits of my 
 friends above, narrating matters of history. How many are 
 there who may cast their eyes upon these pages, that will 
 say, " Poor Matilda ! I knew her at Gibraltar. Little Fanny 
 was the life and soul of us all in Quebec." 
 
 " Mr. O'Malley," said the adjutant, as I presented myself 
 in the afternoon of my arrival in Cork to a short, punchy, 
 little red-fa,ced gentleman, in a short jacket and ducks, "you 
 are, I perceive, appointed to the 14th; you will have the 
 goodness to appear on parade to-morrow morning. The 
 
 riding-school hours are . The morning drill is ; 
 
 evening drill . Mr. Minchin, you are a 14th man, I 
 
 believe ? No, I beg pardon ! a carbineer ; but no matter. 
 Mr. O'Malley, Mr. Minchin; Captain Dounie, Mr. O'Malley. 
 You '11 dine with us to-day, and to-morrow you shall be en- 
 tered at the mess." 
 
 " Yours are at Santarem, I believe ? " said an old, weather- 
 beaten looking officer with one arm. 
 
 " I 'm ashamed to say, I know nothing whatever of them ; 
 I received my gazette unexpectedly enough." 
 
 " Ever in Cork before, Mr. O'Malley ? '"' 
 
 "Never," said I. 
 
 " Glorious place," lisped a white-eyelashed, knocker-kneed 
 ensign ; " splendid gals, eh ? " 
 
 VOL. 1. — 13
 
 194 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "Ah, Brunton," said Minchin, "you may boast a little; 
 but we poor devils — " 
 
 " Know the Dais ? " said the hero of the lisp, addressing 
 me. 
 
 " I have n't that honor," I replied, scarcely able to guess 
 whether what he alluded to were objects of the picturesque 
 or a private family. 
 
 " Introduce him, then, at once," said the adjutant ; " we '11 
 all go in the evening. What will the old squaw think ? " 
 
 "Not I," said Minchin. " She wrote to the Duke of York 
 about my helping Matilda at supper, and not having any 
 honorable intentions afterwards." 
 
 " We dine at ' The George ' to-day, Mr. O'Malley, sharp 
 seven. Until then — " 
 
 So saying, the little man bustled back to his accounts, and 
 I took my leave with the rest, to stroll about the town till 
 dinner-time.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE adjutant's DINNER. 
 
 The adjutant's dinner was as professional an affair as 
 need be, A circuit or a learned society could not have 
 been more exclusively devoted to their own separate and 
 immediate topics than were we. Pipeclay in all its vari- 
 eties came on the tapis ; the last regulation cap, the new 
 button, the promotions, the general orders, the colonel and 
 the colonel's wife, stoppages, and the mess fund were all 
 well and ably discussed ; and strange enough, while the 
 conversation took this wide range, not a chance allusion, 
 not one stray hint ever wandered to the brave fellows who 
 were covering the army with glory in the Peninsula, nor 
 one souvenir of him that was even then enjoying a fame as 
 a leader second to none in Europe. This surprised me not 
 a little at the time ; but I have since that learned how little 
 interest the real services of an army possess for the ears 
 of certain officials, who, stationed at home quarters, pass 
 their inglorious lives in the details of drill, parade, mess- 
 room gossip, and barrack scandal. Such, in fact, were the 
 dons of the present dinner. We had a commissary-general, 
 an inspecting brigade-major of something, a physician to 
 the forces, the adjutant himself, and Major Dairy mple ; the 
 hoi polloi consisting of the raw ensign, a newly-fledged cor- 
 net (Mr. Sparks), and myself. 
 
 The commissary told some very pointless stories about 
 his own department; the doctor read a dissertation upon 
 Walcheren fever ; the adjutant got very stupidly tipsy ; and 
 Major Dalrymple succeeded in engaging the three juniors 
 of the party to tea, having previously pledged us to pur- 
 chase nothing whatever of outfit without his advice, he 
 well knowing (which he did) how young fellows like us 
 were cheated, and resolving to be a father to us (which he 
 certainly tried to be).
 
 196 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 As we rose from the table, about ten o'clock, I felt how 
 soon a few such dinners would succeed in disenchanting 
 me of all my military illusions ; for, young as I was, I saw 
 that the commissary was a vulgar bore, the doctor a hum- 
 bug, the adjutant a sot, and the major himself I greatly 
 suspected to be an old rogue. 
 
 '' You are coming with us. Sparks ? " said Major Dal- 
 rymple, as he took me by one arm and the ensign by the 
 other. " We are going to have a little tea with the ladies ; 
 not five minutes' walk." 
 
 " Most happy, sir," said JNIr. Sparks, with a very flattered 
 expression of countenance. 
 
 " O'Malley, you know Sparks, and Burton too." 
 
 This served for a species of triple introduction, at which 
 we all bowed, simpered, and bowed again. We were very 
 happy to have the pleasure, etc, 
 
 " How pleasant to get away from these fellows ! " said 
 the major, "they are so uncommonly prosy! That com- 
 missary, with his mess beef, and old Pritchard, with black 
 doses and rigors, — nothing so insufferable ! Besides, in 
 reality, a young officer never needs all that nonsense. A 
 little medicine chest — I '11 get you one each to-morrow for 
 five pounds — no, five pounds ten — the same thing — that 
 will see you all through the Peninsula. Eemind me of it in 
 the morning." This we all promised to do, and the major 
 resumed : " I say, Sparks, you 've got a real prize in that 
 gray horse, — such a trooper as he is ! O'Malley, you '11 be 
 wanting something of that kind, if we can find it for you." 
 
 " Many thanks. Major ; but my cattle are on the way here 
 already. I 've only three horses, but I think they are toler- 
 ably good ones." 
 
 The major now turned to Burton and said something in 
 a low tone, to which the other replied, " Well, if you say 
 so, I'll get ib; but it's devilish dear." 
 
 " Dear, my young friend ! Cheap, dog cheap." 
 
 " Only think, O'Malley, a whole brass bed, camp-stool, 
 basin-stand, all complete, for sixty pounds ! If it was not 
 that a widow was disposing of it in great distress, one hun- 
 dred could not buy it. Here we are ; come along, — no cere- 
 mony. Mind the two steps ; that 's it. Mrs. Dalrymple,
 
 THE ADJUTANT'S DINNER. 197 
 
 Mr. 0']\ralley ; ^Er. Sparks, Mr. Burton, my daughters. Is 
 tea over, girls ? " 
 
 " Wliy, Papa, it 's nearly eleven o'clock," said Fanny, as 
 slie rose to ring the bell, displaying in so doing the least 
 possible portion of a very well-turned ankle. 
 
 Miss Matilda Dal laid down her book, but seemingly lost 
 in abstraction, did not deign to look at us. Mrs. Dalrymple, 
 however, did the honors with much politeness, and having 
 by a few adroit and well-put queries ascertained everything 
 concerning our rank and position, seemed perfectly satisfied 
 that our intrusion was justifiable. 
 
 While my confrere, Mr. Sparks, was undergoing his exam- 
 ination I had time to look at the ladies, whom I was much 
 surprised at finding so very well looking ; and as the ensign 
 had opened a conversation with Fanny, I approached my 
 chair towards the other, and having carelessly turned over 
 the leaves of the book she had been reading, drew her on to 
 talk of it. As my acquaintance with young ladies hitherto 
 had been limited to those who had " no soul," I felt some 
 difficulty at first in keeping up with the exalted tone of 
 my fair companion, but by letting her take the lead for 
 some time, I got to know more of the ground. We went 
 on tolerably together, every moment increasing my stock of 
 technicals, which were all that was needed to sustain the 
 conversation. How often have I found the same plan suc- 
 ceed, whether discussing a question of law or medicine, 
 with a learned professor of either ! or, what is still more 
 difficult, canvassing the merits of a preacher or a doctrine 
 with a serious young lady, whose " blessed privileges " were 
 at first a little puzzling to comprehend. 
 
 I so contrived it, too, that Miss Matilda should seem as 
 much to be making a convert to her views as to have found 
 a person capable of sympathizing with her ; and thus, long 
 before the little supper, with which it was the major's prac- 
 tice to regale his friends every evening, made its appear- 
 ance, we had established a perfect understanding together, 
 — a circumstance that, a bystander might have remarked, 
 was productive of a more widely diffused satisfaction than 
 I could have myself seen any just cause for. Mr. Burton 
 was also progressing, as the Yankees say, with the sister ;
 
 198 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Sparks had booked himself as purchaser of military stores 
 enough to make the campaign of the whole globe ; and we 
 were thus all evidently fulfilling our various vocations, and 
 affording perfect satisfaction to our entertainers. 
 
 Then came the spatch-cock, and the sandwiches, and the 
 negus, which Fanny first mixed for papa, and subsequently, 
 with some little pressing, for Mr. Burton ; Matilda the 
 romantic assisted me ; Sparks helped himself. Then we 
 laughed, and told stories ; pressed Sparks to sing, which, 
 as he declined, we only pressed the more. How, invari- 
 ably, by-the-bye, is it the custom to show one's appreciation 
 of anything like a butt by pressing him for a song ! The 
 major was in great spirits ; told us anecdotes of his early 
 life in India, and how he once contracted to supply the 
 troops with milk, and made a purchase, in consequence, 
 of some score of cattle, which turned out to be bullocks. 
 Matilda recited some lines from Pope in my ear. Fanny 
 challenged Burton to a rowing match. Sparks listened to 
 all around him, and Mrs. Dalrymple mixed a very little 
 weak punch, which Dr. Lucas had recommended to her to 
 take the last thing at night, — Nodes coenceque, etc. Say 
 what you will, these were very jovial little reunions. The 
 girls were decidedly very pretty. We were in high favor ; 
 and when we took leave at the door, witli a very cordial 
 shake hands, it was with no arrlere pensee we promised to 
 see them in the morning.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE ENTANGLEMENT. 
 
 When we think for a moment over all the toils, all the 
 anxieties, all the fevered excitement of a grande passion, 
 it is not a little singular that love should so frequently be 
 elicited by a state of mere idleness ; and yet nothing, after 
 all, is so predisposing a cause as this. Where is the man 
 between eighteen and eight-and-thirty — might I not say 
 forty — who, without any very pressing duns, and having 
 no taste for strong liquor and rouge-et-noir, can possibly 
 lounge through the long hours of his day without at least 
 fancying himself in love ? The thousand little occupations 
 it suggests become a necessity of existence ; its very wor- 
 ries are like the wholesome opposition that purifies and 
 strengthens the frame of a free state. Then, what is there 
 half so sweet as the reflective flattery which results from 
 our appreciation of an object who in return deems us the 
 ne plus ultra of perfection ? There it is, in fact ; that con- 
 founded bump of self-esteem does it all, and has more 
 imprudent matches to answer for than all the occipital 
 protuberances that ever scared poor Harriet Martineau. 
 
 Xow, to apply my moralizing. I very soon, to use the 
 mess phrase, got " devilish spooney " about the " Dais." 
 The morning drill, the riding-school, and the parade were 
 all most fervently consigned to a certain military char- 
 acter that shall be nameless, as detaining me from some 
 appointment made the evening before ; for as I supped 
 there each night, a party of one kind or another was always 
 planned for the day following. Sometimes we had a boat- 
 ing excursion to Cove, sometimes a picnic at Foaty ; now a 
 rowing party to Glanmire, or a ride, at which I furnished 
 the cavalry. These doings were all under my especial direc- 
 tion, and I thus became speedily the organ of the Dalrym- 
 ple family ; and the simple phrase, " It was Mr. O'Malley's
 
 200 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 arrangement," " Mr. O'Malley wished it," was like the 3Ioi 
 le roi of Louis XIV. 
 
 Though all this while we continued to carry on most 
 pleasantly, Mrs. Dalrymple, I could perceive, did not en- 
 tirely sympathize with our projects of amusement. As an 
 experienced engineer might feel when watching the course 
 of some storming projectile — some brilliant congreve — 
 flying over a besieged fortress, yet never touching the walls 
 nor harming the inhabitants, so she looked on at all these 
 demonstrations of attack with no small impatience, and 
 wondered when would the breach be reported practicable. 
 Another puzzle also contributed its share of anxiety, — 
 which of the girls was it ? To be sure, he spent three 
 hours every morning with Fanny ; but then, he never left 
 Matilda the whole evening. He had given his miniature 
 to one ; a locket with his hair was a present to the sister. 
 The major thinks he saw his arm round Matilda's waist 
 in the garden ; the housemaid swears she saw him kiss 
 Fanny in the pantry. Matilda smiles when we talk of his 
 name with her sister's ; Fanny laughs outright, and says, 
 " Poor Matilda ! the man never dreamed of her." This is 
 becoming uncomfortable. The major must ask his inten- 
 tions. It is certainly one or the other ; but then, we have 
 a right to know which. Such was a very condensed view 
 of Mrs. Dalrymple's reflections on tliis important topic, — 
 a view taken with her usual tact and clear-sightedness. 
 
 Matters were in this state when Power at length arrived 
 in Cork, to take command of our detachment and make the 
 final preparations for our departure. I had been, as usual, 
 spending the evening at the major's, and had just reached my 
 quarters, when I found my friend sitting at my fire, smoking 
 his cigar and solacing himself with a little brandy-and-water. 
 
 " At last," said he, as I entered, — " at last ! Why, where 
 the deuce have you been till this hour, — past two o'clock ? 
 There is no ball, no assembly going on, eh ? " 
 
 " No," said I, half blushing at the eagerness of the in- 
 quiry; "I've been spending the evening Avith a friend." 
 
 " Spending the evening ! Say, rather, the night ! Why, 
 confound you, man, what is there in Cork to keep you out 
 of bed till near three ? "
 
 THE ENTANGLEMENT. 201 
 
 "Well, if you must know, I have been supping at a 
 Major Dahyniple's, — a devilish good fellow, with two 
 such daughters ! " 
 
 ^' Ahem ! " said Power, shutting one eye knowingly, and 
 giving a look like a Yorkshire horse-dealer. " Go on." 
 
 " Why, what do you mean ? " 
 
 " Go on ; continue." 
 
 " I 've finished ; I 've nothing more to tell." 
 
 " So, they 're here, are they ? " said he, reflectingly. 
 
 " Wlio ? " said I. 
 
 " Matilda and Fanny, to be sure." 
 
 " Why, you know them, then ? " 
 
 " I should think I do." 
 
 " Where have you met them ? " 
 
 " Where have I not ? When I was in the Rifles they 
 were quartered at Zante. Matilda was just then coming it 
 rather strong with Villiers, of ours, a regular greenhorn. 
 Fanny, also, nearly did for Harry Nesbitt, by riding a 
 hurdle race. Then they left for Gibraltar, in the year, — 
 what year was it ? " 
 
 " Come, come," said I, " this is a humbug ; the girls are 
 quite young; you just have heard their names." 
 
 "Well, perhaps so; only tell me which is your peculiar 
 "weakness, as they say in the west, and may be I '11 convince 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, as to that," said I, laughing, " I 'm not very far gone 
 on either side." 
 
 " Then, Matilda, probably, has not tried you with Cowley, 
 eh ? — you look a little pink — ' There are hearts that live 
 and love alone.' Oh, poor fellow, you 've got it ! By Jove, 
 how you 've been coming it, though, in ten days ! She ought 
 not to have got to that for a month, at least; and how like 
 a young one it was, to be caught by the poetry. Oh, Master 
 Charley, I thought that the steeple-chaser might have done 
 most with your Galway heart, — the girl in the gray habit, 
 that sings ' Moddirederoo,' ought to have been the prize ! 
 Halt ! by Saint George, but that tickles you also ! Why, 
 zounds, if I go on, probably, at this rate, I '11 find a tender 
 spot occupied by the ' black lady ' herself." 
 
 It was no use concealing, or attempting to conceal, any
 
 202 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 thing from my inquisitive friend ; so I mixed my grog, and 
 opened my whole heart ; told how I had been conducting 
 myself for the entire preceding fortnight ; and when I con- 
 cluded, sat silently awaiting Power's verdict, as though a 
 jury were about to pronounce upon my life. 
 
 " Have you ever written ? " 
 
 " Never ; except, perhaps, a few lines with tickets for the 
 theatre, or something of that kind." 
 
 " Have you copies of your correspondence ? " 
 
 " Of course not. Why, what do you mean ? " 
 
 *' Has Mrs. Dal ever been present ; or, as the French say, 
 has she assisted at any of your tender interviews with the 
 young ladies ? " 
 
 " I 'm not aware that one kisses a girl before mamma." 
 
 " I 'm not speaking of that ; I merely allude to an ordi- 
 nary flirtation." 
 
 " Oh, I suppose she has seen me attentive." 
 
 " Very awkward, indeed ! There is only one point in 
 your favor ; for as your attentions were not decided, and as 
 the law does not, as yet, permit polygamy — " 
 
 " Come, come, you know I never thought of marrying." 
 
 " Ah, but they did." 
 
 " Not a bit of it." 
 
 "Ay, but they did. What do you wager but that the 
 major asks your intentions, as he calls it, the moment he 
 hears the transport has arrived ? " 
 
 " By Jove ! now you remind me, he asked this evening, 
 when he could have a few minutes' private conversation with 
 me to-morrow, and I thought it was about some confounded 
 military chest or sea-store, or one of his infernal contrivances 
 that he every day assures me are indispensable ; though, if 
 every oificer had only as much baggage as I have got, under 
 his directions, it would take two armies, at least, to carry 
 the effects of the lighting one." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said he, starting upon his legs ; " what a 
 burst you 've made of it ! " So saying, he began in a nasal 
 twang, — 
 
 " I publish the banns of marriage between Charles O'Mal- 
 ley, late of his Majesty's 14th Dragoons, and — Dalrymple, 
 spinster, of this city — "
 
 THE ENTANGLEMENT. 203 
 
 " I '11 be hanged if you do, though," said I, seeing pretty 
 clearly, by this time, something of the estimation my friends 
 were held in. " Come, Power, pull me through, like a good 
 fellow, — pull me through, without doing anything to hurt 
 the girls' feelings." 
 
 " Well, we '11 see about it," said he, — " we '11 see about it 
 in the morning ; but, at the same time, let me assure you, 
 the affair is not so easy as you may at first blush suppose. 
 These worthy people have been so often 'done' — to use 
 the cant phrase — before, that scarcely a i-use remains un- 
 tried. It is of no use pleading that your family won't con- 
 sent; that your prospects are null ; that you are ordered for 
 India ; that you are engaged elsewhere ; that you have 
 nothing but your pay ; that you are too young or too old, — 
 all such reasons, good and valid with any other family, will 
 avail you little here. Neither will it serve your cause that 
 you may be warranted by a doctor as subject to periodical 
 fits of insanity ; monomaniacal tendencies to cut somebody's 
 throat, etc. Bless your heart, man, they have a soul above 
 such littlenesses ! They care nothing for consent of friends, 
 means, age, health, climate, prospects, or temper. Firmly 
 believing matrimony to be a lottery, they are not super- 
 stitious about the number they pitch upon ; provided only 
 that they get a ticket, they are content." 
 
 " Then it strikes me, if what you say is correct, that I 
 have no earthly chance of escape, except some kind friend 
 will undertake to shoot me." 
 
 " That has been also tried." 
 
 " Why, how do you mean ? " 
 
 " A mock duel, got up at mess, — we had one at Malta. 
 Poor Tickers was the hero of that affair. It was right well 
 planned, too. One of the letters was suffered, by mere acci- 
 dent, to fall into Mrs. Dai's hands, and she was quite pre- 
 pared for the event when he was reported shot the next 
 morning. Then the young lady, of course, whether she 
 cared or not, was obliged to be perfectly unconcerned, lest 
 the story of engaged affections might get wind and spoil 
 another market. The thing went on admirably, till one 
 day, some few months later, they saw, in a confounded 
 army-list, that the late George Vickers was promoted to the
 
 204 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 18th Dragoons, so that the trick was discovered, and is, of 
 course, stale at present." 
 
 " Then could I not have a wife already, and a large family 
 of interesting babies ? " 
 
 " No go, — only swell the damages, when they come to 
 prosecute. Besides, your age and looks forbid the assump- 
 tion of such a fact. No, no ; we must go deeper to work." 
 
 "But where shall we go?" said I, impatiently; "for 
 it appears to me these good people have been treated to 
 every trick and subterfuge that ever ingenuity suggested." 
 
 " Come, 1 think I have it ; but it will need a little more 
 reflection. So, now, let us to bed. I '11 give you the result 
 of my lucubrations at breakfast ; and, if I mistake not, we 
 may get you through this without any ill-consequences. 
 Good-night, then, old boy ; and now dream away of your 
 lady-love till our next meeting."
 
 CHAPTEK XXVI. 
 
 THE PREPARATION. 
 
 To prevent needless repetitions in my story, I shall not 
 record here the conversation which passed between my 
 friend Power and myself on the morning following at break- 
 fast. Suffice it to say, that the plan proposed by him for 
 my rescue was one I agreed to adopt, reserving to myself, in 
 case of failure, a j^is aller of which I knew not the mean- 
 ing, but of whose efficacy Power assured me I need not 
 doubt. 
 
 "If all fail," said he, — "if every bridge break down 
 beneath you, and no road of escape be left, Avhy, then, I 
 believe you must have recourse to another alternative. Still 
 I should wish to avoid it, if possible, and I put it to you, 
 in honor, not to employ it unless as a last expedient. You 
 promise me this ? " 
 
 " Of course," said I, with great anxiety for the dread final 
 measure. " What is it ? " 
 
 He paused, smiled dubiously, and resumed, — 
 
 " And, after all, — but, to be sure, there will not be need 
 for it, — the other plan will do, — must do. Come, come, 
 O'Malley, the admiralty say that nothing encourages drown- 
 ing in the navy like a life-buoy. The men have such a 
 prospect of being picked up that they don't mind falling 
 overboard; so, if I give you this life-preserver of mine, 
 you '11 not swim an inch. Is it not so, eh ? " 
 
 " Far from it," said I. " I shall feel in honor bound to 
 exert myself the more, because I now see how much it costs 
 you to part with it." 
 
 " Well, then, hear it. When everything fails ; when all 
 your resources are exhausted ; when you have totally lost 
 your memory, in fact, and your ingenuity in excuses say, — 
 but mind, Charley, not till then, — say that you must consult 
 your friend, Captain Power, of the 14th ; that 's all."
 
 206 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " And is tliis it ? " said I, quite disappointed at the lame 
 and impotent conclusion to all the high-sounding exordium ; 
 " is this all ? " 
 
 " Yes," said he, " that is all. But stop, Charley ; is not 
 that the major crossing the street there ? Yes, to be sure 
 it is ; and, by Jove ! he has got on the old braided frock this 
 morning. Had you not told me one word of your critical 
 position, I should have guessed there was something in the 
 wind from that. That same vestment has caused many a 
 stout heart to tremble that never quailed before a shot or 
 shell." 
 
 " How can that be ? I should like to hear." 
 
 " Why, my dear boy, that 's his explanation coat, as we 
 called it at Gibraltar. He was never known to wear it 
 except when asking some poor fellow's ' intentions.' He 
 would no more think of sporting it as an every-day affair, 
 than the chief -justice would go cock-shooting in his black 
 cap and ermine. Come, he is bound for your quarters, and 
 as it will not answer our plans to let him see you now, you 
 had better hasten down-stairs, and get round by the back 
 way into George's Street, and you '11 be at his house before 
 he can return." 
 
 Following Power's directions, I seized my foraging-cap 
 and got clear out of the premises before the major had 
 reached them. It was exactly noon as I sounded my loud 
 and now well-known summons at the major's knocker. The 
 door was quickly opened ; but instead of dashing up-stairs, 
 four steps at a time, as was my wont, to the drawing-room, 
 I turned short into the dingy-looking little parlor on the 
 right, and desired Matthew, the venerable servitor of the 
 house, to say that I wished particularly to see IVIrs. Dal- 
 rymple for a few minutes, if the hour were not inconvenient. 
 
 There was something perhaps of excitement in my man- 
 ner, some flurry in my look, or some trepidation in my 
 voice, or perhaps it was the unusual hour, or the still 
 more remarkable circumstance of my not going at once to 
 the drawing-room, tliat raised some doubts in Matthew's 
 mind as to the object of my visit; and instead of at once 
 complying with my request to inform Mrs. Dalrymple that 
 I was there, he cautiously closed the door, and taking a
 
 THE PREPARATION. 207 
 
 quick but satisfactory glance round the apartment to assure 
 himself that we were alone, he placed his back against it 
 and heaved a deep sigh. 
 
 We were both perfectly silent : I in total amazement at 
 what the old man could possibly mean ; he, following up 
 the train of his own thoughts, comprehended little or nothing 
 of my surprise, and evidently was so engrossed by his re- 
 flections that he had neither ears nor eyes for aught around 
 him. There was a most singular semi-comic expression in 
 the old withered face that nearly made me laugh at first ; 
 but as I continued to look steadily at it, I perceived that, 
 despite the long-worn wrinkles that low Irish drollery and 
 fun had furrowed around the angles of his mouth, the real 
 character of his look was one of sorrowful compassion. 
 
 Doubtless, my readers have read many interesting nar- 
 ratives wherein the unconscious traveller in some remote 
 land has been warned of a plan to murder him, by some mere 
 passing wink, a look, a sign, which some one, less steeped 
 in crime, less hardened in iniquity than his fellows, has 
 ventured for his rescue. Sometimes, according to the taste 
 of the narrator, the interesting individual is an old woman, 
 sometimes a young one, sometimes a black-bearded bandit, 
 sometimes a child ; and not unfrequently, a dog is humane 
 enough to do this service. One thing, however, never varies, 
 — be the agent biped or quadruped, dumb or speechful, young 
 or old, the stranger invariably takes the hint, and gets off 
 scott free for his sharjoness. This never-var^'ing trick on 
 the doomed man, I had often been sceptical enough to sus- 
 pect ; however, I had not been many minutes a spectator of 
 the old man's countenance, when I most thoroughly recanted 
 my errors, and acknowledged myself wrong. If ever the 
 look of a man conveyed a warning, his did ; but there was 
 more in it than even that, — there was a tone of sad and 
 pitiful compassion, such as an old gray-bearded rat might 
 be supposed to put on at seeing a young and inexperienced 
 one opening the hinge of an iron trap, to try its efficacy 
 upon his neck. Many a little occasion had presented 
 itself, during my intimacy with the family, of doing Mat- 
 thew some small services, of making him some trifling 
 presents; so that, when he assumed before me the ges-
 
 208 CHARLES O'lVLVLLEY. 
 
 ture and look I have mentioned, I was not long in decipher- 
 ing his intentions. 
 
 "Matthew!" screamed a sharp voice which I recognized 
 at once for that of Mrs. Dalrymple. " Matthew ! Where is 
 the old fool ? " 
 
 But Matthew heard not, or heeded not. 
 
 " Matthew ! Matthew ! I say." 
 
 "I'm comin', ma'am," said he, with a sigh, as, opening 
 the parlor-door(, he turned upon me one look of such import 
 that only the circumstances of my story can explain its 
 force, or my reader's own ingenious imagination can 
 supply. 
 
 "Never fear, my good old friend," said I, grasping his 
 hand warmly, and leaving a guinea in the palm, — " never 
 fear." 
 
 " God grant it, sir ! " said he, setting on his wig in prepa- 
 ration for his appearance in the drawing-room. 
 
 " Matthew ! The old wretch ! " 
 
 "Mr. O'Malley," said the often-called jNfatthew, as open- 
 ing the door, he announced me unexpectedly among the 
 ladies there assembled, who, not hearing of my approach, 
 were evidently not a little surprised and astonished. 
 
 Had I been really the enamored swain that the Dal- 
 rymple family were willing to believe, I half suspect that 
 the prospect before me might have cured me of my passion, 
 A round bullet-head, papillote, with the " Cork Observer," 
 where still-born babes and maids-of-all-work were descanted 
 upon in very legible type, was now the substitute for the 
 classic front and Italian ringlets of la belle Matilda ; while 
 the chaste Fanny herself, whose feet had been a fortune 
 for a statuary, was, in the most slatternly and slipshod 
 attire, pacing the room in a towering rage, at some thing, 
 place, or person, unknoAvn (to me). If the ballet-master at 
 the Academie could only learn to get his imps, demons, 
 angels, and goblins " off " half as rapidly as the two young 
 ladies retreated on my being announced, I answer for the 
 piece so brought out having a run for half the season. Be- 
 fore my eyes had regained their position parallel to the 
 plane of the horizon, they were gone, and I found myself 
 alone with Mrs. Dalrymple. Now, she stood her ground
 
 THE PREPARATION. 209 
 
 partly to cover the retreat of the main body, partly, too, 
 because — representing the baggage wagons, ammunition 
 stores, hospital, staff, etc. — her retirement from the field 
 demanded more time and circumspection than the light 
 brigade. 
 
 Let not my readers suppose that the mei'e Dairy mple was 
 so perfectly faultless in costume that her remaining was a 
 matter of actual indifference ; far from it. She evidently 
 had a struggle for it ; but a sense of duty decided her, and 
 as Ney doggedly held back to cover the retreating forces on 
 the march from Moscow, so did she resolutely lurk behind 
 till the last flutter of the last petticoat assured her that the 
 fugitives were safe. Then did she hesitate for a moment 
 what course to take ; but as I assumed my chair beside 
 her, she composedly sat down, and crossing her hands be- 
 fore her, waited for an explanation of this ill-timed visit. 
 
 Had the Horse Guards, in the plenitude of their power 
 and the perfection of their taste, ordained that the 79th 
 and 42d Regiments should in future, in lieu of their 
 respective tartans, wear flannel kilts and black worsted 
 hose, I could readily have fallen into the error of mistak- 
 ing Mrs. Dalrymple for a field officer in the new regulation 
 dress ; the philabeg finding no mean representation in a 
 capacious pincushion that hung down from her girdle, 
 while a pair of shears, not scissors, corresponded to the 
 dirk. After several inelfectual efforts on her part to make 
 her vestment (I know not its fitting designation) cover 
 more of her legs than its length could possibly effect, and 
 after some most bland smiles and half blushes at dishahUle, 
 etc., were over, and that I had apologized most humbly for 
 the unusually early hour of my call, I proceeded to open 
 my negotiations, and unfurl my banner for the fray. 
 
 " The old ' Racehorse ' has arrived at last," said I, with a 
 half-sigh, "and I believe that we shall not obtain a very 
 long time for our leave-taking ; so that, trespassing upon 
 your very great kindness, I have ventured upon an early 
 call." 
 
 " The ' Racehorse,' surely can't sail to-morrow," said Mrs. 
 Dalrymple, whose experience of such matters made her a 
 very competent judge ; '•' her stores — " 
 
 VOL. I. — 14
 
 210 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " Are taken in already," said I ; " and an order from the 
 Horse Guards commands us to embark in twenty-four 
 hours ; so that, in fact, we scarcely have time to look about 
 us." 
 
 *' Have you seen the major ? " inquired Mrs. Dalrymple, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Not to-day," I replied, carelessly ; " but, of course, 
 during the morning we are sure to meet. I have many 
 thanks yet to give him for all his most kind attentions." 
 
 " I know he is most anxious to see you," said Mrs. Dal- 
 rymple, with a very peculiar emphasis, and evidently desir- 
 ing that I should inquire the reasons of this anxiety. I, 
 however, most heroically forbore indulging my curiosity, 
 and added that I should endeavor to find him on my way to 
 the barracks ; and then, hastily looking at my watch, I pro- 
 nounced it a full hour later than it really was, and promis- 
 ing to spend the evening — my last evening — with them, I 
 took my leave and hurried away, in no small flurry to be 
 once more out of reach of Mrs. Dalrymple's fire, which I 
 every moment expected to open upon me.
 
 CHAPTEE XXVII. 
 
 THE SUPPER. 
 
 Power and I dined together tete-a-ttte at the hotel, and 
 sat chatting over my adventures with the Dalrymples till 
 nearly nine o'clock. 
 
 " Come, Charley," said he, at length, " I see your eye 
 wandering very often towards the timepiece ; another bum- 
 per, and I '11 let you off. What shall it be ? " 
 
 "What you like," said I, upon whom a share of three 
 bottles of strong claret had already made a very satisfac- 
 tory impression. 
 
 "Then champagne for the coup-de-grace. Nothing like 
 your vin mousseux for a critical moment, — every bubble 
 that rises sparkling to the surface prompts some bright 
 thought, or elicits some brilliant idea, that would only have 
 been drowned in your more sober fluids. Here 's to the girl 
 you love, whoever she be." 
 
 " To her bright eyes, then, be it," said I, clearing off a 
 brimming goblet of nearly half the bottle, while my friend 
 Power seemed multiplied into any given number of gentle- 
 men standing amidst something like a glass manufactory of 
 decanters. 
 
 " I hope you feel steady enough for this business," said 
 my friend, examining me closely with the candle. 
 
 " I 'm an archdeacon," muttered I, with one eye involun- 
 tarily closing. 
 ■ " You '11 not let them double on you ! " 
 
 " Trust me, old boy," said I, endeavoring to look knowing. 
 
 " I think you '11 do," said he, " so now march. I '11 wait 
 for you here, and we '11 go on board together ; for old Bloater 
 the skipper says he '11 certainly weigh by daybreak." 
 
 " Till then," said I, as opening the door, I proceeded very 
 cautiously to descend the stairs, affecting all the time con-
 
 212 CHARLES O'M ALLEY, 
 
 siderable nonchalance, and endeavoring, as well as my thick- 
 ened utterance would permit, to hum : — 
 
 " Oh, love is the soul of au Irish dragoon." 
 
 If I was not in the most perfect possession of my faculties 
 in the house, the change to the open air certainly but little 
 contributed to their restoration ; and I scarcely felt myself 
 in the street when my brain became absolutely one whirl of 
 maddened and confused excitement. Time and space are 
 nothing to a man thus enlightened, and so they appeared to 
 me J scarcely a second had elapsed when I found myself 
 standing in the Dalrymples' drawing-room. 
 
 If a few hours had done much to metamorphose me, certes, 
 they had done something for my fair friends also ; anything 
 more unlike what they appeared in the morning can scarcely 
 be imagined. Matilda in black, with her hair in heavy ma- 
 donna bands upon her fair cheek, now paler even than usual, 
 never seemed so handsome ; while Fanny, in a light-blue 
 dress, with blue flowers in her hair, and a blue sash, looked 
 the most lovely piece of coquetry ever man set his eyes 
 upon. The old major, too, was smartened up, and put into 
 an old regimental coat that he had worn during the siege 
 of Gibraltar ; and lastly, Mrs. Dalrymple herself was attired 
 in a very imposing costume that made her, to my not over- 
 accurate judgment, look very like an elderly bishop in a 
 flame-colored cassock. Sparks was the only stranger, and 
 wore upon his countenance, as I entered, a look of very 
 considerable embarrassment that even my thick-sightedness 
 could not fail of detecting. 
 
 ParUz-moi de Vamitie, my friends. Talk to me of the 
 warm embrace of your earliest friend, after years of al> 
 sence ; the cordial and heartfelt shake hands of your old 
 school companion, when in after years, a chance meeting 
 has brought you together, and you have had time and oppor- 
 tunity for becoming distinguished and in repute, and are 
 rather a good hit to be known to than otherwise ; of the 
 close grip you give your second when he comes up to say, 
 that the gentleman with the loaded detonator opposite won't 
 fire, that he feels he 's in the wrong. Any or all of these
 
 THE SUPPER. 213 
 
 together, very effective and powerful though they be, are 
 light in the balance when compared with the two-handed 
 compression you receive from the gentleman that expects 
 you to marry one of his daughters. 
 
 " My dear O'Malley, how goes it ? Thought you 'd never 
 come," said he, still holding me fast and looking me full 
 in the face, to calculate the extent to which my potations 
 rendered his flattery feasible. 
 
 ''Hurried to death with preparations, I suppose," said 
 Mrs. Dalrymple, smiling blandly. ''Fanny dear, some tea 
 for him." 
 
 " Oh, Mamma, he does not like all that sugar ; surely not," 
 said she, looking up with a most sweet expression, as though 
 to say, " I at least know his tastes." 
 
 " I believed you were going without seeing us," whispered 
 Matilda, with a very glassy look about the corner of her 
 eyes. 
 
 Eloquence was not just then my forte, so that I con- 
 tented myself with a very intelligible look at Fanny, and a 
 tender squeeze of JSIatilda's hand, as I seated myself at the 
 table. 
 
 Scarcely had I placed myself at the tea-table, with Matilda 
 beside and Fanny opposite me, each vying with the other in 
 their delicate and kind attentions, when I totally forgot all 
 my poor friend Power's injunctions and directions for my 
 management. It is true, I remembered that there was a 
 scrape of some kind or other to be got out of, and one 
 requiring some dexterity, too ; but what or with whom I 
 could not for the life of me determine. What the wine had 
 begun, the bright eyes completed ; and amidst the witchcraft 
 of silky tresses and sweet looks, I lost all my reflection, till 
 the impression of an impending difficulty remained fixed in 
 my mind, and I tortured my poor, weak, and erring intellect 
 to detect it. At last, and by a mere chance, my eyes fell 
 upon Sparks ; and by what mechanism I contrived it, I 
 know not, but I immediately saddled him with the whole 
 of my annoyances, and attributed to him and to his fault 
 any embarrassment I labored under. 
 
 The physiological reason of the fact I 'm very ignorant 
 of, but for the truth and frequency I can well vouch, that
 
 214 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 there are certain people, certain faces, certain voices, cer- 
 tain whiskers, legs, waistcoats, and guard-chains, that inevi- 
 tably produce the most striking effects upon the brain of a 
 gentleman already excited by wine, and not exactly cogni- 
 zant of his own peculiar fallacies. 
 
 These effects are not produced merely among those who 
 are quarrelsome in their cups, for I call the whole 14th to 
 witness that I am not such ; but to any person so disguised, 
 the inoffensiveness of the object is no security on the other 
 hand, — for I once knew an eight-day clock kicked down a 
 barrack stairs by an old Scotch major, because he thought 
 it was laughing at him. To this source alone, whatever it 
 be, can I attribute the feeling of rising indignation with 
 which I contemplated the luckless cornet, who, seated at 
 the fire, unnoticed and uncared for, seemed a very unworthy 
 object to vent anger or ill-temper upon. 
 
 "Mr. Sparks, I fear," said I, endeavoring at the time to 
 call up a look of very sovereign contempt, — " Mr. Sparks, 
 I fear, regards my visit here in the light of an intrusion." 
 
 Had poor Mr. Sparks been told to proceed incontinently 
 up the chimney before him, he could not have looked more 
 aghast. Reply was quite out of his power. So sudden and 
 unexpectedly was this charge of mine made that he could 
 only stare vacantly from one to the other ; while I, warming 
 with my subject, and perhaps — but I '11 not swear it — 
 stimulated by a gentle pressure from a soft hand near me, 
 continued : — 
 
 " If he thinks for one moment that my attentions in this 
 family are in any way to be questioned by him, I can only 
 say — " 
 
 " My dear O'Malley, my dear boy ! " said the major, with 
 the look of a father-in-law in his eye. 
 
 " The spirit of an officer and a gentleman spoke there," 
 said Mrs. Dalrymple, now carried beyond all prudence by 
 the hope that my attack might arouse my dormant friend 
 into a counter-declaration ; nothing, however, was further 
 from poor Sparks, who began to think he had been uncon- 
 sciously drinking tea with five lunatics. 
 
 " If he supposes," said I, rising from my chair, " that his 
 Bilence will pass with me as any palliation — "
 
 THE SUPPER. 215 
 
 " Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! there will be a duel. Papa, dear, 
 why don't you speak to Mr. O'Malley ? " 
 
 "There now, O'Malley, sit down. Don't you see he is 
 quite in error ? " 
 
 " Then let him say so," said I, fiercely. 
 
 " Ah, yes, to be sure," said Fanny. " Do say it ; say any- 
 thing he likes, Mr. Sparks." 
 
 " I must say," said Mrs. Dalrymple, " however sorry I may 
 feel in my own house to condemn any one, that Mr. Sparks 
 is very much in the wrong." 
 
 Poor Sparks looked like a man in a dream. 
 
 " If he will tell Charles, — Mr. O'Malley, I mean," said 
 Matilda, blushing scarlet, "that he meant nothing by what 
 he said — " 
 
 " But I never spoke, never opened my lips ! " cried out 
 the wretched man, at length suflB.ciently recovered to defend 
 himself. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Sparks ! " 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Sparks!" 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Sparks ! " chorussed the three ladies. 
 
 While the old major brought up the rear with an " Oh, 
 Sparks, I must say — " 
 
 " Then, by all the saints in the calendar, I must be mad," 
 said he ; " but if I have said anything to offend you, O'Malley, 
 I am sincerely sorry for it." 
 
 " That will do, sir," said I, with a look of royal condescen- 
 sion at the amende I considered as somewhat late in coming, 
 and resumed my seat. 
 
 This little intermezzo, it might be supposed, was rather 
 calculated to interrupt the harmon}^ of our evening. Not so, 
 however. I had apparently acquitted myself like a hero, 
 and was evidently in a white heat, in which I could be fash- 
 ioned into any shape. Sparks was humbled so far that he 
 would probably feel it a relief to make any proposition ; so 
 that by our opposite courses we had both arrived at a point 
 at which all the dexterity and address of the family had 
 been long since aiming without success. Conversation then 
 resumed its flow, and in a few minutes every trace of our 
 late fracas had disappeared. 
 
 By degrees I felt myself more and more disposed to turn
 
 216 CHAKLES O'M^iLLEY. 
 
 my attention towards Matilda, and dropping my voice into 
 a lower tone, opened a flirtation of a most determined kind 
 Fanny had, meanwhile, assumed a place beside Sparks, and 
 by the muttered tones that passed between them, I could 
 plainly perceive they were similarly occupied. The major 
 took up the " Southern Reporter," of which he appeared deep 
 in the contemplation, while Mrs. Dal herself buried her 
 head in her embroidery and neither heard nor saw anything 
 around her. 
 
 I know, unfortunately, but very little what passed between 
 myself and my fair companion ; I can only say that when 
 supper was announced at twelve (an hour later than usual), 
 I was sitting upon the sofa with my arm round her waist, 
 my cheek so close that already her lovely tresses brushed my 
 forehead, and her breath fanned my burning brow. 
 
 " Supper, at last," said the major, with a loud voice, to 
 arouse us from our trance of happiness without taking any 
 mean opportunity of looking unobserved. " Supper, Sparks, 
 O'Malley ; come now, it will be some time before we all meet 
 this way again." 
 
 " Perhaps not so long, after all," said I, knowingly. 
 
 " Very likely not," echoed Sparks, in the same key. 
 
 " I 've proposed for Fanny," said he, whispering in my 
 ear. 
 
 " jNIatilda 's mine," replied I, with the look of an emperor. 
 
 "A word with you, Major," said Sparks, his eye flashing 
 with enthusiasm, and his cheek scarlet. " One word, — I '11 
 not detain you." 
 
 They withdrew into a corner for a few seconds, during 
 which Mrs. Dalrymple amused herself by wondering what 
 the secret could be, why Mr. Sparks could n't tell her, and 
 Fanny meanwhile pretended to look for something at a side 
 table, and never turned her head round. 
 
 " Then give me your hand," said the major, as he shook 
 Sparks's with a warmth of whose sincerity there could be no 
 question. " Bess, my love," said he, addressing his wife. 
 The remainder was lost in a whisper ; but whatever it was, 
 it evidently redounded to Sparks's credit, for the next 
 moment a repetition of the hand-shaking took place, and 
 Sparks looked the happiest of men.
 
 THE SUPPER. 217 
 
 "A mon tour,'' thought I, "now," as I touched the major's 
 arm, and led him towards the window. What I said may be 
 one day matter for Major Dairy mple's memoirs, if he ever 
 writes them ; but for my part I have not the least idea. I 
 only know that while I was yet speaking he called over Mrs. 
 Dal, who, in a frenzy of joy, seized me in her arms and em- 
 braced me. After which, I kissed her, shook hands with the 
 major, kissed Matilda's hand, and laughed prodigiously, as 
 though I had done something confoundedly droll, — a senti- 
 ment evidently participated in by Sparks, Avho laughed too, 
 as did the others ; and a merrier, happier party never sat 
 down to supper. 
 
 " Make your company pleased with themselves," says Mr. 
 Walker, in his Orir/inal work upon dinner-giving, "and 
 everything goes on well." Xow, Major Dalrymple, without 
 having read the authority in question, probably because it 
 was not written at the time, understood the principle fully 
 as well as the police-magistrate, and certainly was a proficient 
 in the practice of it. 
 
 To be sure, he possessed one grand requisite for success, — . 
 he seemed most perfectly happy himself. There was that 
 air degag4. about him which, when an old man puts it on 
 among his juniors, is so very attractive. Then the ladies, too, 
 were evidently well pleased ; and the usually austere mamma 
 had relaxed her "rigid front" into a smile in which any 
 habitue of the house could have read our fate. 
 
 We ate, we drank, we ogled, smiled, squeezed hands be- 
 neath the table, and, in fact, so pleasant a party had rarely 
 assembled round the major's mahogany. As for me, I made 
 a full disclosure of the most burning love, backed by a re- 
 solve to marry my fair neighbor, and settle upon her a con- 
 siderably larger part of my native county than I had ever 
 even rode over. Sparks, on the other side, had opened his 
 fire more cautiously, but whether taking courage from my 
 boldness, or perceiving with envy the greater estimation I 
 was held in, was now going the pace fully as fast as myself, 
 and had commenced explanations of his intentions with re- 
 gard to Fanny that evidently satisfied her friends. Mean- 
 while the wine was passing very freely, and the hints half 
 uttered an hour before began now to be more openly spoken 
 and canvassed.
 
 218 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Sparks and I hob-nobbed across tlie table and looked un- 
 speakable things at each other ; the girls held down their 
 heads ; Mrs. Dal wiped her eyes ; and the major pronounced 
 himself the happiest father in Europe. 
 
 It was now wearing late, or rather early; some gray 
 streaks of dubious light were faintly forcing their way 
 through the half-closed curtains, and the dread thought of 
 parting first presented itself. A cavalry trumpet, too, at 
 this moment sounded a call that aroused us from our trance 
 of pleasure, and warned us that our moments were few. A 
 dead silence crept over all ; the solemn feeling which leave- 
 taking ever inspires was uppermost, and none spoke. The 
 major was the first to break it. 
 
 " O'Malley, my friend, and you, Mr. Sparks ; I must have 
 a word with you, boys, before we part." 
 
 "Here let it be, then. Major," said I, holding his arm as 
 he turned to leave the room, — " here, now ; we are all so 
 deeply interested, no place is so fit." 
 
 "Well, then," said the major, "as you desire it, now that 
 I 'm to regard you both in the light of my sons-in-law, — 
 at least, as pledged to become so, — it is only fair as 
 respects — " 
 
 " I see, — I understand perfectly," interrupted I, whose 
 passion for conducting the w^hole affair myself was gradu- 
 ally gaining on me. " "What you mean is, that we should 
 make known our intentions before some mutual friends ere 
 we part ; eh. Sparks ? eh, Major ? " 
 
 " Right, my boy, — right on every point." 
 
 " Well, then, I thought of all that ; and if you '11 just send 
 your servant over to my quarters for our captain, — he 's the 
 fittest person, you know, at such a time — " 
 
 " How considerate ! " said Mrs. Dalrymple. 
 
 " How perfectly just his idea is ! " said the major. 
 
 " We '11 then, in his presence, avow our present and un- 
 alterable determination as regards your fair daughters ; and 
 as the time is sliort — " 
 
 Here I turned towards Matilda, who placed her arm within 
 mine ; Sparks possessed himself of Fanny's hand, while the 
 major and his wife consulted for a few seconds. 
 
 " Well, O'Malley, all you propose is perfect. Now, then, 
 for the captain. Who shall he inquire for ? "
 
 r^X r -^ /^^y 4.^f^y^if;,,^^!^,!ii^^^n^ya'^
 
 THE SUPPER. 219 
 
 "Oh, an old friend of yours," said I, jocularly ; "you'll 
 be glad to see him." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said all together. 
 
 " Oh, yes, quite a surprise, I '11 warrant it." 
 
 " Who can it be ? Who on earth is it ? " 
 
 " You can't guess," added I, with a very knowing look. 
 " Knew you at Corfu ; a very intimate friend, indeed, if he 
 tell the ^truth." 
 
 A look of something like embarrassment passed around 
 the circle at these words, while I, wishing to end the mystery, 
 resumed : — 
 
 " Come, then, who can be so proper for all parties, at a 
 moment like this, as our mutual friend Captain Power ? " 
 
 Had a shell fallen into the cold grouse pie in the midst of 
 us, scattering death and destruction on every side, the effect 
 could scarcely have been more frightful than that my last 
 words produced. Mrs. Dalrymple fell with a sough upon 
 the floor, motionless as a corpse ; Fanny threw herself, 
 screaming, ujjon a sofa ; Matilda went off into strong hys- 
 terics upon the hearth-rug ; while the major, after giving 
 me a look a maniac might have envied, rushed from the 
 room in search of his pistols with a most terrific oath to 
 shoot somebody, whether Sparks or myself, or both of us, 
 on his return, I cannot say. Fanny's sobs and Matilda's 
 cries, assisted by a drumming process by Mrs. Dai's heels 
 upon the floor, made a most infernal concert and effectually 
 prevented anything like thought or reflection; and in all 
 probability so overwhelmed Avas I at the sudden catastrophe 
 I had so innocently caused, I should have waited in due 
 patience for the major's return, had not Sparks seized my 
 arm, and cried out, — 
 
 " Run for it, O'Malley ; cut like fun, my boy, or we 're 
 done for." 
 
 "Run; why? What for? Where?" said I, stupefied 
 by the scene before me. 
 
 " Here he is ! " called out Sparks, as throwing up the 
 window, he sprang out upon the stone sill, and leaped into 
 the street. I followed mechanically, and jumped after him, 
 just as the major had reached the window. A ball whizzed 
 by me, that soon determined my further movements ; so,
 
 220 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 putting on all speed, I flew down the street, turned the 
 corner, and regained the hotel breathless and without a hat, 
 while Sparks arrived a moment later, pale as a ghost, and 
 trembling like an aspen-leaf. 
 
 " Safe, by Jove ! " said Sparks, throwing himself into a 
 chair, and panting for breath. 
 
 " Safe, at last," said I, without well knowing why or for 
 what. 
 
 *' You 've had a sharp run of it, apparently," said Power, 
 coolly, and without any curiosity as to the cause ; *' and now, 
 let us on board ; there goes the trumpet again. The skipper 
 is a surly old fellow, and we must not lose his tide for him." 
 So saying, he proceeded to collect his cloaks, cane, etc., and 
 get ready for departure.
 
 CHAPTEK XXVIII. 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 When I awoke from the long, sound sleep which suc- 
 ceeded my last adventure, I had some difficulty in remem- 
 bering where I was or how I had come there. From my 
 narrow berth I looked out upon the now empty cabin, and 
 at length some misty and confused sense of my situation 
 crept slowly over me. I opened the little shutter beside 
 me and looked out. The bold headlands of the southern 
 coast were frowning in sullen and dark masses about a couple 
 of miles distant, and I perceived that we were going fast 
 through the water, which was beautifully calm and still. I 
 now looked at my watch ; it was past eight o'clock ; and as 
 it must evidently be evening, from the appearance of the 
 sky, I felt that I had slept soundly for above twelve hours. 
 
 In the hurry of departure the cabin had not been set to 
 rights, and there lay every species of lumber and luggage 
 in all imaginable confusion. Trunks, gun-cases, baskets of 
 eggs, umbrellas, hampers of sea-store, cloaks, foraging-caps, 
 maps, and sword-belts were scattered on every side, — while 
 the debris of a dinner, not over-remarkable for its propriety 
 in table equipage, added to the ludicrous effect. The heavy 
 tramp of a foot overhead denoted the step of some one tak- 
 ing his short walk of exercise ; while the rough voice of the 
 skipper, as he gave the word to " Go about ! " all convinced 
 me that we were at last under way, and off to " the 
 wars." 
 
 The confusion our last evening on shore produced in my 
 brain was such that every effort I made to remember any- 
 thing about it only increased my difficulty, and I felt myself 
 in a web so tangled and inextricable that all endeavor to 
 escape free was impossible. Sometimes I thought that I 
 had really married Matilda Dalrymple ; then, I supposed 
 that the father had called me out, and wounded me in a
 
 222 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 duel ; and finally, I had some confused notion about a quar- 
 rel with Sparks, but what for, when, and how it ended, I 
 knew not. How tremendously tipsy I must have been ! was 
 the only conclusion I could draw from all these conflicting 
 doubts ; and after all, it was the only thing like fact that 
 beamed upon my mind. How I had come on board and 
 reached my berth was a matter I reserved for future in- 
 quiry, resolving that about the real history of my last 
 night on shore I would ask no questions, if others were 
 equally disposed to let it pass in silence. 
 
 I next began to wonder if Mike had looked after all my 
 luggage, trunks, etc., and whether he himself had been for- 
 gotten in our hasty departure. About this latter point I 
 was not destined for much doubt ; for a well-known voice, 
 from the foot of the companion-ladder, at once proclaimed 
 my faithful follower, and evidenced his feelings at his 
 departure from his home and country. 
 
 Mr. Free was, at the time I mention, gathered up like a 
 ball oppos'^e a small, low window that looked upon the 
 bluff headlands now fast becoming dim and misty as the 
 night approached. He was apparently in low spirits, and 
 hummed in a species of low, droning voice, the following 
 ballad, at the end of each verse of which came an Irish 
 chorus which, to the erudite in such matters, will suggest 
 the air of Moddirederoo : — 
 
 MICKEY FREE'S LAMENT. 
 
 Then fare ye well, ould Erin dear ; 
 
 To part, my heart does acbe well : 
 From Carrickfergus to Cape Clear, 
 
 I '11 never see your equal. 
 And though to foreign parts we 're bound. 
 
 Where cannibals may ate us, 
 We '11 ne'er forget the holy ground 
 
 Of potteen and potatoes. 
 
 Moddirederoo aroo, aroo, etc. 
 
 When good Saint Patrick banished frogs. 
 And shook them from his garment. 
 
 He never thought \A-e 'd f^o abroad. 
 To live upon such varmint ;
 
 THE VOYAGE. 223 
 
 Nor quit the land where whiskey grew 
 
 To wear King George's button, 
 Take vinegar for mountain dew, 
 
 And toads for mountain mutton. 
 
 Moddirederoo aroo, aroo, etc. 
 
 "I say, Mike, stop that confounded keen, and tell me 
 where are we ? " 
 
 *' Off the ould head of Kinsale, sir." 
 
 " Where is Captain Power ? " 
 
 *' Smoking a cigar on deck, with the captain, sir." 
 
 « And Mr. Sparks ? " 
 
 " Mighty sick in his own state-room. Oh, but it 's him- 
 self has enough of glory — bad luck to it ! — by this time. 
 He 'd make your heart break to look at him." 
 
 " Wlio have you got on board besides ? " 
 
 " The adjutant 's here, sir ; and an old gentleman they 
 call the major." 
 
 " Not Major Dalrymple ? " said I, starting up with terror 
 at the thought, " eh, Mike ? " 
 
 "iSTo, sir, another major; his name is Mulroon, or Mun- 
 doon, or something like that." 
 
 " Monsoon, you son of a lumper potato," cried out a surly, 
 gruff voice from a berth opposite. " Monsoon. Who 's at 
 the other side ? " 
 
 "Mr. O'Malley, 14th," said I, by way of introduction. 
 
 " My service to you, then," said the voice. " Going to 
 join your regiment ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and you, are you bound on a similar errand ? " 
 
 " No, Heaven be praised ! I 'm attached to the com- 
 missariat, and only going to Lisbon. Have you had any 
 dinner ? " 
 
 " Not a morsel ; have you ? " 
 
 " No more than yourself ; but I always lie by for three or 
 four days this way, till I get used to the confoimded rock- 
 ing and pitching, and with a little grog and some sleep, 
 get over the time gayly enough. Steward, another tumbler 
 like the last ; there — very good — that will do. Your good 
 health, Mr. — what was it you said ? " 
 
 "O'Malley."
 
 224 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "O'Malley — your good health! Good-uight." And so 
 ended our brief colloquy, and in a few minutes more, a 
 very decisive snore pronounced my friend to be fulfilling his 
 precept for killing the hours. 
 
 I now made the effort to emancipate myself from my 
 crib, and at last succeeded in getting on the floor, where, 
 after one chassez at a small looking-glass opposite, followed 
 by a very impetuous rush at a little brass stove, in which I 
 was interrupted by a trunk and laid prostrate, I finally got 
 my clothes on, and made my way to the deck. Little at- 
 tuned as was my mind at the moment to admire anything 
 like scenery, it was impossible to be unmoved by the mag- 
 nificent prospect before me. It was a beautiful evening in 
 summer; the sun had set above an hour before, leaving 
 behind him in the west one vast arch of rich and burnished 
 gold, stretching along the whole horizon, and tipping all the 
 summits of the heavy rolling sea, as it rolled on, unbroken 
 by foam or ripple, in vast moving mountains, from the far 
 coast of Labrador. We were already in blue water, though 
 the bold cliffs that were to form our departing point were 
 but a few miles to leeward. There lay the lofty bluff of 
 Old Ivinsale, whose crest, overhanging, peered from a sum- 
 mit of some hundred feet into the deep Avater that swept its 
 rocky base, many a tangled lichen and straggling bough 
 trailing in the flood beneath. Here and there upon the 
 coast a twinkling gleam proclaimed the hut of the fisher- 
 man, whose swift hookers had more than once sliot by us 
 and disappeared in a moment. The wind, which began 
 to fall at sunset, freshened as the moon rose ; and the good 
 ship, bending to the breeze, lay gently over, and rushed 
 through the waters with a sound of gladness. I was alone 
 upon the deck. Power and the captain, whom I expected 
 to have found, had disappeared somehow, and I was, after 
 all, not sorry to be left to my own reflections uninterrupted. 
 
 jVIy thoughts turned once more to my home, — to my 
 first, my best, earliest friend, whose hearth I had rendered 
 lonely and desolate, and my heart sank within me as I 
 remembered it. How deeply I reproached myself for the 
 selfish impetuosity with Avhich I had ever followed any rising 
 fancy, any new and sudden desire, and never thought of
 
 THE VOYAGE. 225 
 
 him whose every hope was in, whose every wish was for 
 me. Alas ! alas, my poor uncle! how gladly would I re:^;ign 
 every prospect my soldier's life may hold, out, with all its 
 glittering promise, and. all the flattery of success, to be once 
 more beside you ; to feel your warm and. manly grasp ; to 
 see your smile ; to hear your voice ; to be again where all 
 our best feelings are born and. nurtured, our cares assuaged, 
 our joys more joyed in, and our griefs more wept, — at 
 home ! These very words have more music to my ears than 
 all the softest strains that ever siren sung. They bring us 
 back to all we have loved, by ties that are never felt but 
 through such simple associations. And in the earlier mem- 
 ories called up, our childish feelings come back once more 
 to visit us like better spirits, as we walk amidst the dreary 
 desolation that years of care and uneasiness have spread 
 around us. 
 
 Wretched must he be who ne'er has felt such bliss ; and 
 thrice happy he who, feeling it, knows that still there lives 
 for him that same early home, with all its loved inmates, 
 its every dear and devoted object waiting his coming and 
 longing for his approach. 
 
 Such were my thoughts as I stood gazing at the bold line 
 of coast now gradually growing more and more dim while 
 evening fell, and we continued to stand farther out to sea. 
 So absorbed was I all this time in my reflections, that I 
 never heard the voices which now suddenly burst upon my 
 ears quite close beside me. I turned, and saw for the first 
 time that at the end of the quarter-deck stood what is 
 called a roundhouse, a small cabin, from which the sounds 
 in question proceeded. I walked gently forward and peeped 
 in, and certainly anything more in contrast with my late 
 revery need not be conceived. There sat the skipper, a 
 bluff, round-faced, jolly-looking little tar, mixing a bowl of 
 punch at a table, at which sat my friend Power, the adjutant, 
 and a tall, meagre-looking Scotchman, whom I once met in 
 Cork, and heard that he was the doctor of some infantry regi- 
 ment. Two or three black bottles, a paper of cigars, and a 
 tallow candle were all the table equipage ; but certainly the 
 party seemed not to want for spirits and fun, to jvidge from 
 the hearty bursts of laughing that every moment pealed 
 
 VOL. I. — 15
 
 226 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 forth, and shook the little building that held them. Power, 
 as usual with him, seemed to be taking the lead, and was 
 evidently amusing himself with the peculiarities of his 
 companions. 
 
 " Come, Adjutant, fill up ; here 's to the campaign before 
 us. We, at least, have nothing but pleasure in the anticipa- 
 tion ; no lovely wife behind ; no charming babes to fret and 
 be fretted for, eh ? " 
 
 "Vara true," said the doctor, who was mated with a 
 tartavy " ye maun have less regrets at leaving hame ; but a 
 married man is no' entirely denied his aiu consolations." 
 
 " Good sense in that," said the skipper ; " a wide berth 
 and plenty of sea room are not bad things now and then." 
 
 " Is that your experience also ? " said Power, with a 
 knowing look. " Come, come. Adjutant, we 're not so ill off, 
 you see ; but, by Jove, I can't imagine how it is a man ever 
 comes to thirty without having at least one wife, — without 
 counting his colonial possessions of course." 
 
 " Yes," said the adjutant, with a sigh, as he drained his 
 glass to the bottom. " It is devilish strange, — woman, 
 lovely woman ! " Here he filled and drank again, as though 
 he had been proposing a toast for his own peculiar drinking. 
 
 " I say, now," resumed Power, catching at once that there 
 was something working in his mind, — "I say, now, how hap- 
 pened it that you, a right good-looking, soldier-like fellow, 
 that always made his way among the fair ones, with that 
 confounded roguish eye and slippery tongue, — how the 
 deuce did it come to pass that you never married ? " 
 
 " I 've been more than once on the verge of it," said the 
 adjutant, smiling blandly at the flattery. 
 
 "And nae bad notion yours just to stay there," said the 
 doctor, with a very peculiar contortion of countenance. 
 
 " No pleasing you, no contenting a fellow like you," said 
 Power, returning to the charge ; " that 's the thing ; you get 
 a certain ascendancy; you have a kind of success that 
 renders you, as the French say, tete montee, and you think 
 no woman rich enough or good-looking enough or big 
 enough." 
 
 "No ; by Jove you 're wrong," said the adjutant, swallow- 
 ing the bait, hook and all, — " quite wrong there ; for some-
 
 THE VOYAGE. 227 
 
 how, all my life, I was decidedly susceptible. Not that I 
 cared much for your blushing sixteen, or budding beauties 
 in white muslin, fresh from a back-board and a governess ; 
 no, my taste inclined rather to the more sober charms of two 
 or three-and-thirty, the emhonjioint, a good foot and ankle, a 
 sensible breadth about the shoulders — " 
 
 " Somewhat Dutch-like, I take it," said the skipper, puff- 
 ing out a volume of smoke ; " a little bluff in the bows, and 
 great stowage, eh " 
 
 " You leaned then towards the widows ? " said Power. 
 
 " Exactly ; I confess, a widow always was my weakness. 
 There was something I ever liked in the notion of a woman 
 who had got over all the awkward girlishness of early years, 
 and had that self-possession which habit and knowledge of 
 the world confer, and knew enough of herself to understand 
 what she really wished, and where she would really go." 
 
 "Like the trade winds," puffed the skipper. 
 
 " Then, as regards fortune, they have a decided superiority 
 over the spinster class. I defy any man breathing, — let 
 him be half police-magistrate, half chancellor, — to find out 
 the figure of a young lady's dower. On your first intro- 
 duction to the house, some kind friend whispers, * Go it, old 
 boy ; forty thousand, not a penny less.' A few weeks later, 
 as the siege progresses, a maiden aunt, disposed to puffing, 
 comes down to twenty ; this diminishes again one half, but 
 then 'the money is in bank stock, hard Three-and-a-Half.' 
 You go a little farther, and as you sit one day over your 
 wine with papa, he certainly promulgates the fact that his 
 daughter has five thousand pounds, two of which turn out 
 to be in Mexican bonds, and three in an Irish mortgage." 
 
 " Happy for you," interrupted Power, " that it be not in 
 Galway, where a proposal to foreclose would be a signal for 
 your being called out and shot without benefit of clergy." 
 
 "Bad luck to it, for Galwaj^," said the adjutant. "I was 
 nearly taken in there once to marry a girl that her brother- 
 in-law swore had eight hundred a year ; and it came out 
 afterwards that so she had, but it was for one year only ; 
 and he challenged me for doubting his word too." 
 
 " There 's an old formula for finding out an Irish fortune," 
 says Power, "worth all the algebra they ever taught in
 
 228 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Trinity. Take the half of the assumed sum, and divide it 
 by three ; the quotient will be a flattering representative of 
 the figure sought for." 
 
 " Not in the north," said the adjutant, firmly, — " not in 
 the north, Power. They are all well off there. There 's a 
 race of canny, thrifty, half-Scotch niggers, — your pardon. 
 Doctor, they are all Irish, — lineu-weaving, Presbyterian, 
 yarn-factoring, long-nosed, hard-drinking fellows, that lay 
 by rather a snug thing now and then. Do you know, I was 
 very near it once in the north. I 've half a mind to tell you 
 the story ; though, perhaps, you '11 laugh at me." 
 
 The whole party at once protested that nothing could 
 induce them to deviate so widely from the line of propriety ; 
 and the skipper having mixed a fresh bowl and filled all the 
 glasses round, the cigars were lighted, and the adjutant 
 began.
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 THE adjutant's STORY. — LIFE IN" DERRT. 
 
 ''It is now about eight, may be ten, years since we were 
 ordered to march from Belfast and take up our quarters in 
 Londonderry. We had not been more than a few weeks 
 altogether in Ulster when the order came ; and as we had 
 been, for the preceding two years, doing duty in the south 
 and west, we concluded that the island was tolerably the 
 same in all parts. We opened our campaign in the maiden 
 city exactly as we had been doing with ' unparalleled suc- 
 cess ' in Cashel, Fermoy, Tuam, etc., — that is to say, we 
 announced garrison balls and private theatricals ; offered a 
 cup to be run for in steeple-chase ; turned out a four-in-hand 
 drag, with mottled grays ; and brought over two Deal boats 
 to challenge the north." 
 
 " The 18th found the place stupid," said his companions. 
 
 " To be sure, they did ; slow fellows like them must find 
 any place stupid. No dinners ; but they gave none. No 
 fun ; but they had none in themselves. In fact, we knew 
 better ; we understood how the thing was to be done, and 
 resolved that, as a mine of rich ore lay unworked, it was 
 reserved for us to produce the shining metal that others, 
 less discerning, had failed to discover. Little we knew of 
 the matter ; never was there a blunder like ours. Were 
 you ever in Derry ? " 
 
 " Never," said the three listeners. 
 
 " Well, then, let me inform you that the place has its own 
 peculiar features. In the first place, all the large towns in 
 the south and west have, besides the country neighborhood 
 that surrounds them, a certain sprinkling of gentlefolk, who, 
 though with small fortunes and not much usage of the world, 
 are still a great accession to society, and make up the blank 
 which, even in the most thickly peopled country, would be 
 sadly felt without them. Now, in Derry, there is none of
 
 230 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 this. After the great guns — and, 2:>er Baccho ! what great 
 guns they are ! — you have nothing but the men engaged in 
 commerce, — sharp, clever, shrewd, well-informed fellows ; 
 they are deep in flax-seed, cunning in molasses, and not to 
 be excelled in all that pertains to coffee, sassafras, cinna- 
 mon, gum, oakum, and elephants' teeth. The place is a rich 
 one, and the spirit of commerce is felt throughout it. No- 
 thing is cared for, nothing is talked of, nothing alluded to, 
 that does not bear upon this ; and, in fact, if you have n't a 
 venture in Smyrna figs, Memel timber, Dutch dolls, or some 
 such commodity, you are absolutely nothing, and might as 
 well be at a ball with a cork leg, or go deaf to the opera. 
 
 " Now, when I 've told thus much, I leave you to guess 
 what impression our triumphal entry into the city produced. 
 Instead of the admiring crowds that awaited us elsewhere, 
 as we marched gayly into quarters, here Ave saw nothing 
 but grave, sober-looking, and, I confess it, intelligent-looking 
 faces, that scrutinized our appearance closely enough, but 
 evidently with no great approval and less enthusiasm. The 
 men passed on hurriedly to the counting-houses and wharves ; 
 the Avomen, Avith almost as little interest, peeped at us from 
 the Avindows, and walked aAvay again. Oh, how we wished 
 for Galway, glorious Gahvay, that paradise of the infantry 
 that lies west of the Shannon ! Little we knew, as Ave 
 ordered the band, in lively anticipation of the gayeties 
 before us, to strike up 'Payne's first set,' that, to the ears 
 of the fair listeners in Ship Quay Street, the rumble of a 
 sugar hogshead or the crank of a Aveighing crane Avere more 
 delightful music." 
 
 " By Jove ! " interrupted Power, " you are quite right. 
 Women are strongly imitative in their tastes. The loA^ely 
 Italian, Avhose very costume is a natural following of a 
 Eaphael, is no more like the pretty Liverpool damsel than 
 Genoa is to Glasnevin ; and yet Avhat the deuce have they, 
 dear souls, with their feet upon a soft carpet and their eyes 
 upon the pages of Scott or Byron, to do with all the cotton 
 or dimity that ever Avas i)rinted ? But let us not repine ; 
 that very plastic character is our greatest blessing." 
 
 " I 'm not so sure that it ahvays exists," said the doctor, 
 dubiously, as though his OAvn experience pointed otherwise.
 
 THE ADJUTANT'S STORY. — LIFE IN DERRY. 231 
 
 "Well, go ahead!" said the skipper, who evidently dis- 
 liked the digressioa thus interrupting the adjutant's 
 story. 
 
 " Well, we marched along, looking right and left at the 
 pretty faces — and there were plenty of them, too — that a 
 momentary curiosity drew to the windows ; but although we 
 smiled and ogled and leered as only a newly arrived regi- 
 ment can smile, ogle, or leer, by all that 's provoking we 
 might as well have wasted our blandishments upon the 
 Presbyterian meeting-house, that frowned upon us with its 
 high-pitched roof and round windows. 
 
 " ' Droll people, these,' said one ; ' Eayther rum ones,' 
 cried another ; ' The black north, by Jove ! ' said a third : 
 and so we went along to the barracks, somewhat displeased 
 to think that, though the 18th were slow, they might have 
 met their match. 
 
 "Disappointed, as we undoubtedly felt, at the little 
 enthusiasm that marked our entree, we still resolved to 
 persist in our original plan, and accordingly, early the fol- 
 lowing morning, announced our intention of giving amateur 
 theatricals. The mayor, who called upon our colonel, was 
 the first to learn this, and received the information with 
 pretty much the same kind of look the Archbishop of Can- 
 terbury might be supposed to assume if requested by a 
 a friend to ride ' a Derby.' The incredulous expression of 
 the poor man's face, as he turned from one of us to the 
 other, evidently canvassing in his mind whether we might 
 not, by some special dispensation of Providence, be all 
 insane, I shall never forget. 
 
 " His visit was a very short one ; whether concluding 
 that we were not quite safe company, or whether our noti- 
 fication was too much for his nerves, I know not. 
 
 "We were not to be balked, however. Our plans for 
 gayety, long planned and conned over, were soon announced 
 in all form ; and though we made efforts almost super- 
 human in the cause, our plays were performed to empty 
 benches, our balls were unattended, our picnic invitations 
 politely declined, and, in a word, all our advances treated 
 with a cold and chilling politeness that plainly said, 
 * We '11 none of you.'
 
 232 CHARLES 0'j\LVLLEY. 
 
 "Each day brought some new discomfiture, and as we 
 met at mess, instead of having, as heretofore, some prospect 
 of pleasure and amusement to chat over, it was only to talk 
 gloomily over our miserable failures, and lament the dreary 
 quarters that our fates had doomed us to. 
 
 " Some months wore on in this fashion, and at length — 
 what will not time do ? — we began, by degrees, to forget our 
 woes. Some of us took to late hours and brandy-and-water ; 
 others got sentimental, and wrote journals and novels and 
 poetry ; some made acquaintances among the townspeople, 
 and cut in to a quiet rubber to pass the evening ; while 
 another detachment, among which I was, got up a little 
 love affair to while away the tedious hours, and cheat the 
 lazy sun. 
 
 " I have already said something of my taste in beauty : 
 now, Mrs. Boggs was exactly the stj'le of woman I fancied. 
 She was a widow; she had black eyes, — not your jet-black, 
 sparkling, Dutch-doll eyes, that roll about and twinkle, but 
 mean nothing ; no, hers had a soft, subdued, downcast, 
 pensive look about them, and were fully as melting a pair 
 of orbs as any blue eyes you ever looked at. 
 
 " Then, she had a short upper lip, and sweet teeth ; by 
 Jove, they were pearls ! and she showed them too, pretty 
 often. Her figure was well-rounded, plump, and what the 
 French call nette. To complete all, her instep and ankle 
 were unexceptional; and lastly, her jointure was seven 
 hundred pounds per annum, with a trifle of eight thousand 
 more that the late lamented Boggs bequeathed, when, after 
 four months of uninterrupted bliss, he left Derry for an- 
 other world. 
 
 "When chance first threw me in the way of the fair 
 widow, some casual coincidence of opinion happened to 
 raise me in her estimation, and I soon afterwards received 
 an invitation to a small evening party at her house, to 
 which I alone of the regiment was asked. 
 
 " I shall not weary you with the details of my intimacy ; 
 it is enough that I tell you I fell desperately in love. I 
 began by visiting twice or thrice a week, and in less than 
 two months, spent every morning at her house, and rarely 
 left it till the ' Roast beef ' announced mess.
 
 THE ADJUTANT'S STORY. — LIFE IN DERRY. 233 
 
 " I soon discovered the widow's cue ; she was serious. 
 Now, I had conducted all manner of flirtations in my pre- 
 vious life ; timid young ladies, manly young ladies, musical, 
 artistical, poetical, and hysterical, — bless you, I knew them 
 all by heart ; but never before had I to deal with a serious 
 one, and a widow to boot. The case was a trying one. For 
 some weeks it was all very up-hill work ; all the red shot of 
 warm affection I used to pour in on other occasions was of 
 no use here. The language of love, in which I was no mean 
 proficient, availed me not. Compliments and flattery, those 
 rare skirmishers before the engagement, were denied me ; 
 and I verily think that a tender squeeze of the hand would 
 have cost me my dismissal. 
 
 " ' How very slow, all this ! ' thought I, as, at the end 
 of two months siege, I still found myself seated in the 
 trenches, and not a single breach in the fortress ; ' but, to 
 be sure, it 's the way they have in the north, and one must 
 be patient.' 
 
 " While thus I was in no very sanguine frame of mind as 
 to my prospects, in reality my progress was very consider- 
 able. Having become a member of Mr. M'Phun's congre- 
 gation, I was gradually rising in the estimation of the 
 widow and her friends, whom my constant attendance at 
 meeting, and my very serious demeanor had' so far im- 
 pressed that very grave deliberation was held whether I 
 should not be made an elder at the next brevet. 
 
 *'If the widow Boggs had not been a very lovely and 
 wealthy widow; had she not possessed the eyes, lips, 
 hips, ankles, and jointure aforesaid, — I honestly avow that 
 neither the charms of that sweet man Mr. M'Phun's elo- 
 quence, nor even the flattering distinction in store for me, 
 would have induced me to prolong my suit. However, I 
 was not going to despair when in sight of land. The Avidow 
 was evidently softened. A little time longer, and the most 
 scrupulous moralist, the most rigid advocate for employing 
 time wisely, could not have objected to my daily system of 
 courtship. I was none of your sighing, dying, ogling, hand- 
 squeezing, waist-pressing, oath-swearing, everlasting-adoring 
 affairs, with an interchange of rings and lockets ; not a bit 
 of it. It was confoundedly like a controversial meeting at
 
 234 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 the Eotnndo, and I myself had a far greater resemblance 
 to Father Tom Maguire than a gay Lothario. 
 
 " After all, when mess-time came, when the ' Roast beef ' 
 played, and we assembled at dinner, and the soup and fish 
 had gone round, with two glasses of sherry in, my spirits 
 rallied, and a very jolly evening consoled me for all my 
 fatigues and exertions, and supplied me with energy for 
 the morrow ; for, let me observe here, that I only made 
 love before dinner. The evenings I reserved for myself, 
 assuring Mrs. Boggs that my regimental duties required 
 all my time after mess hour, in which I was perfectly 
 correct : for at six we dined ; at seven I opened the claret 
 No. 1 ; at eight I had uncorked my second bottle ; by half- 
 past eight I was returning to the sherry ; and at ten, punc- 
 tual to the moment, I was repairing to my quarters on the 
 back of my servant, Tim Daly, who had carried me safely 
 for eight years, without a single mistake, as the fox-hunters 
 say. This was a wa}^ we had in the — tli. Every man was 
 carried away from mess, some sooner, some later. I was 
 always an early riser, and went betimes. 
 
 " Now, although I had very abundant proof, from circum- 
 stantial evidence, that I was nightly removed from the 
 mess-room to my bed in the mode I mention, it would have 
 puzzled me sorely to prove the fact in any direct way ; in- 
 asmuch as by half-past nine, as the clock chimed, and Tim 
 entered to take me, I was vei-y innocent of all that was 
 going on, and except a certain vague sense of regret at 
 leaving the decanter, felt nothing whatever. 
 
 "It so chanced — what mere trifles are we ruled by in 
 our destiny! — that just as my suit with the widow had 
 assumed its most favorable footing, old General Hinks, that 
 commanded the district, announced his coming over to 
 inspect our regiment. Over he came accordingly, and to 
 be sure, we had a day of it. We were paraded for six mor- 
 tal hours ; then we were marching and countermarching, 
 moving into line, back again into column, now forming 
 open column, then into square ; till at last, we began to 
 think that the old general was like the Flying Dutchman, 
 and was probably condemned to keep on drilling us to the 
 day of judgment. To be sure, he enlivened the proceeding
 
 THE ADJUTANT'S STOKY. — LIFE Df DERRY. 235 
 
 to me by pronouncing the regiment tlie worst-drilled and 
 appointed corps in the service, and the adjutant (me !) the 
 stupidest dunderhead — these were his words — he had 
 ever met with. 
 
 "'Never mind,' thought I; *a few days more, and it's 
 little I '11 care for the eighteen manoeuvres. It 's small 
 trouble your eyes right or your left, shoulders forward, 
 will give me. I '11 sell out, and with the Widow Boggs 
 and seven hundred a year, — but no matter.' 
 
 " This confounded inspection lasted till half-past five in 
 the afternoon ; so that our mess was delayed a full hour in 
 consequence, and it was past seven as we sat down to 
 dinner. Our faces were grim enough as we met together 
 at first ; but what will not a good dinner and good wine do 
 for the surliest party ? By eight o'clock we began to feel 
 somewhat more convivially disposed ; and before nine, the 
 decanters were performing a quick-step round the table, in 
 a fashion very exhilarating and very jovial to look at. 
 
 "*No flinching to-night,' said the senior major. 'We've 
 had a severe day ; let us also have a merry evening.' 
 
 " ' By Jove ! Ormond,' cried another, ' we must not leave 
 this to-night. Confound the old humbugs and their musty 
 whist party ; throw them over.' 
 
 "'I say. Adjutant,' said Forbes, addressing me, 'you've 
 nothing particular to say to the fair widow this evening ? 
 You '11 not bolt, I hope ? ' 
 
 " ' That he sha' n't,' said one near me ; ' he must make up 
 for his absence to-morrow, for to-night we all stand fast.' 
 
 " ' Besides,' said another, ' she 's at meeting by this. Old 
 — what-d'ye-call-him ? — is at fourteenthly before now.' 
 
 " ' A note for you, sir,' said the mess waiter, presenting 
 me with a rose-colored three-cornered billet. It was from 
 la chere Boggs herself, and ran thus : — 
 
 Dear Sir, — Mr. M'Phun and a few friends are coming to tea at 
 my house after meeting ; perhaps you will also favor us with your 
 company. Yours truly, 
 
 Eliza Boggs. 
 
 "What was to be done? Quit the mess; leave a jolly 
 party just at the jolliest moment; exchange Lafitte and
 
 236 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 red hermitage for a soiree of elders, presided over by that 
 sweet man, Mr. M'Phun ! It was too bad ! — but then, how 
 much was in the scale ! What would the widow say if 
 I declined ? What would she think ? I well knew that 
 the invitation meant nothing less than a full-dress parade 
 of me before her friends, and that to decline was perhaps 
 to forfeit all my hopes in that quarter forever. 
 
 " ' Any answer, sir ? ' said the waiter. 
 
 " * Yes,' said I, in a half-whisper, ' I '11 go, — tell the 
 servant, I '11 go.' 
 
 *' At this moment my tender epistle was subtracted from 
 before me, and ere I had turned round, had made the tour 
 of half the table. I never perceived the circumstance, 
 however, and filling my glass, professed my resolve to sit 
 to the last, with a mental reserve to take my departure 
 at the very first opportunity. Ormond and the paymaster 
 quitted the room for a moment, as if to give orders for 
 a broil at twelve, and now all seemed to promise a very 
 convivial and well-sustained party for the night. 
 
 '' 'Is that all arranged? ' inquired the major, as Ormond 
 entered. 
 
 " * All right,' said he ; ' and now let us have a bumper and 
 a song. Adjutant, old boy, give us a chant.' 
 
 " ' What shall it be, then ? ' inquired I, anxious to cover 
 my intended retreat by any appearance of joviality. 
 
 " ' Give us — 
 
 *' When I was in the Fusiliers 
 Some fourteen years ago." * 
 
 " * No, no ; confound it ! I 've heard nothing else since 
 I joined the regiment. Let us have the " Paymaster's 
 Daughter." ' 
 
 " ' Ah ! that 's pathetic ; I like that,' lisped a young ensign. 
 
 '"If I 'm to have a vote,' grunted out the senior major, 
 'I pronounce for "West India Quarters." ' 
 
 "'Yes, yes,' said half-a-dozen voices together; 'let's 
 have "West India Quarters." Come, give him a glass of 
 sherry, and let him begin.' 
 
 "I had scarcely finished off my glass, and cleared my 
 throat for my song, when the clock on the chimney-piece
 
 THE ADJUTANT'S STORY. — LIFE IN DERRY. 237 
 
 chimed half-past nine, and the same instant I felt a heavy 
 hand fall upon my shoulder. I turned and beheld my 
 servant Tim. This, as I have already mentioned, was the 
 hour at which Tim was in the habit of taking me home to 
 *my quarters ; and though we had dined an hour later, he 
 took no notice of the circumstance, but true to his custom, 
 he was behind my chair. A very cursory glance at my 
 * familiar ' was quite sufficient to show me that we had some- 
 how changed sides ; for Tim, who was habitually the most 
 sober of mankind, was, on the present occasion, exceed- 
 ingly drunk, while I, a fvdl hour before that consummation, 
 was perfectly sober. 
 
 *' 'What d' ye want, sir ? ' inquired I, with something of 
 severity in my manner. 
 
 " ' Come home,' said Tim, with a hiccough that set the 
 whole table in a roar. 
 
 " 'Leave the room this instant,' said I, feeling wrath at 
 being thus made a butt of for his offences. ' Leave the room, 
 or I '11 kick you out of it.' Now, this, let me add in a 
 parenthesis, was somewhat of a boast, for Tim was six feet 
 three, and strong in proportion, and when in liquor, fearless 
 as a tiger. 
 
 " ' You '11 kick me out of the room, eh, will you ? Try, 
 only try it, that 's all.' Here a new roar of laughter burst 
 forth, while Tim, again placing an enormous paw upon my 
 shoulder, continued, ' Don't be sitting there, making a baste 
 of yourself, when you 've got enough. Don't you see you 're 
 drunk ? ' 
 
 " I sprang to my legs on this, and made a rush to the fire- 
 place to secure the poker ; but Tim was beforehand with me, 
 and seizing me by the waist with both hands, flung me across 
 his shoulders as though I were a baby, saying, at the same 
 time, ' I '11 take you away at half-past eight to-morrow, av 
 you 're as rampageous again.' I kicked, I plunged, I swore, 
 I threatened, I even begged and implored to be set down ; 
 but whether my voice was lost in the uproar around me, or 
 that Tim only regarded my denunciations in the light of 
 cursing, I know not, but he carried me bodily down the 
 stairs, steadying himself by one hand on the banisters, while 
 with the other he held me as in a vice. I had but one con-
 
 238 
 
 CIIAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 solation all tliis while ; it was this, that as my quarters lay 
 immediately behind the mess-room, Tim's excursion would 
 soon come to an end, and I should be free once more ; but 
 guess my terror to find that the drunken scoundrel, instead 
 of going as usual to the left, turned short to the right hand,* 
 and marched boldly into Ship Quay Street. Every window 
 in the mess-room was filled with our fellows, absolutely 
 shouting Avith laughter. * Go it Tim ! That 's the fellow ! 
 Hold him tight ! Never let go ! ' cried a dozen voices ; while 
 
 Ijiiflu 1 1'hij^ , III' 
 
 lldh 
 
 r,l'l!lil|i ]h 
 
 i^- r"ffl.3^4^fe , it' 
 
 the wretch, with the tenacity of drunkenness, gripped me 
 still harder, and took his way down the middle of the 
 street. 
 
 " It was a beautiful evening in July, a soft summer night, 
 as I made this pleasing excursion down the most frequented 
 thoroughfare in the maiden city, my struggles every moment 
 exciting roars of laughter from an increasing crowd of spec- 
 tators, who seemed scarcely less amused than puzzled at the 
 exhibition. In the midst of a torrent of imprecations against 
 my torturer, a loud noise attracted me. I turned my head,
 
 THE ADJUTANT'S STOKY. — LITE IN DERRY. 239 
 
 and saw, — horror of horrors ! — the door of the meeting- 
 house just flung open, and the congregation issuing forth en 
 masse. Is it any wonder if I remember no more ? There I 
 was, the chosen one of the widow Boggs, the elder elect, 
 the favored friend and admired associate of Mr. M'Phun, 
 taking an airing on a summer's evening on the back of a 
 drunken Irishman. Oh, tlie thought was horrible ! and cer- 
 tainly the short and pithy epithets by which I was charac- 
 terized in the crowd, neither improved my temper nor 
 assuaged my wrath, and I feel bound to confess that my 
 own language was neither serious nor becoming. Tim, how- 
 ever, cared little for all this, and pursued the even tenor of 
 his way through the whole crowd, nor stopped till, having 
 made half the circuit of the wall, he deposited me safe at 
 my own door, adding, as he set me down, ' Oh, av you 're as 
 throublesome every evening, it 's a wheelbarrow I '11 be 
 obleeged to bring for you ! ' 
 
 " The next day I obtained a short leave of absence, and ere 
 a fortnight expired, exchanged into the — th, preferring Hal- 
 ifax itself to the ridicule that awaited me in Londonderry."
 
 CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 FEED power's ADVENTURE IN PHILTPSTOWN. 
 
 The lazy hours of the long summer day crept slowly over. 
 The sea, unbroken by foam or ripple, shone like a broad blue 
 mirror, reflecting here and there some fleecy patches of snow- 
 white cloud as they stood unmoved in the sky. The good 
 ship rocked to and fro with a heavy and lumbering motion, 
 the cordage rattled, the bulkheads creaked, the sails flapped 
 lazily against the masts, the very sea-gulls seemed to sleep 
 as they rested on the long swell that bore them along, and 
 everything in sea and sky bespoke the calm. No sailor trod 
 the deck ; no watch was stirring ; the very tiller ropes were 
 deserted ; and as they traversed backwards and forwards 
 with every roll of the vessel, told that we had no steerage- 
 way, and lay a mere log upon the water. 
 
 I sat alone in the bow, and fell into a musing fit upon the 
 past and the future. How happily for us is it ordained that 
 in the most stirring existences there are every here and there 
 such little resting-spots of reflection, from which, as from 
 some eminence, we look back upon the road we have been 
 treading in life, and cast a wistful glance at the dark vista 
 before us ! When first we set out upon our worldly pil- 
 grimage, these are indeed precious moments, when with 
 buoyant heart and spirit high, believing all things, trusting 
 all things, our very youth comes back to us, reflected from 
 every object we meet ; and like Narcissus, we are but wor- 
 shipping our own image in the water. As we go on in life, 
 the cares, the anxieties, and the business of the world en- 
 gross us more and more, and such moments become fewer 
 and shorter. Many a i3right dream has been dissolved, 
 many a fairy vision replaced, by some dark reality ; blighted 
 hopes, false friendships have gradually worn callous the 
 heart once alive to every gentle feeling, and time begins to 
 tell upon us, — yet still, as the well-remembered melody to 
 which we listened with delight in infancy brings to our
 
 FRED POWER'S ADVENTURE IN PHn^IPSTOWN. 241 
 
 mature age a touch of early years, so will the very associa- 
 tion of these happy moments recur to us in our revery, and 
 make us young again in thought. Then it is that, as we 
 look back upon our worldly career, we become convinced 
 how truly is the child the father of the man, how frequently 
 are the projects of our manhood the fruit of some boyish 
 predilection ; and that in tlie emulative ardor that stirs the 
 schoolboy's heart, we may read the prestige of tnat high 
 daring that makes a hero of its possessor. 
 
 These moments, too, are scarcely more pleasurable than 
 they are salutary to us. Disengaged for the time from every 
 worldly anxiety, we pass in review before our own selves, 
 and in the solitude of our own hearts are we judged. That 
 still small voice of conscience, unheard and unlistened to 
 amidst the din and bustle of life, speaks audibly to us now; 
 and while chastened on one side by regrets, we are sustained 
 on the other by some approving thought , and with many a 
 sorrow for the past, and many a promise for the future, we 
 begin to feel " how good it is for us to be here." 
 
 The evening wore later ; the red sun sank down upon the 
 sea, growing larger and larger ; the long line of mellow gold 
 that sheeted along the distant horizon grew first of a dark 
 ruddy tinge, then paler and paler, till it became almost gray ; 
 a single star shone faintly in the east, and darkness soon 
 set in. With night came the wind, for almost imperceptibly 
 the sails swelled slowly out, a slight rustle at the bow fol- 
 lowed, the ship lay gently over, and we were once more in 
 motion. It struck four bells ; some casual resemblance in 
 the sound of the old pendulum that marked the hour at my 
 uncle's house startled me so that I actually knew not where 
 I was. With lightning speed my once home rose up before 
 me with its happy hearts ; the old familiar faces were there ; 
 the gay laugh was in my ears ; there sat my dear old uncle, 
 as with bright eye and mellow voice he looked a very wel- 
 come to his guests ; there Boyle ; there Considine ; there 
 the grim-visaged portraits that graced the old walls whose 
 black oak wainscot stood in broad light and shadow, as the 
 blazing turf fire shone upon it ; there was my own place, 
 now vacant ; methought my uncle's eye was turned towards 
 it and that I heard him say, " My poor boy ! I wonder where 
 
 VOL. I. — 16
 
 242 CHARLES O'jMALLEY. 
 
 is he now ! " My heart swelled, my chest heaved, the 
 tears coursed slowly down my cheeks, as I asked myself, 
 " Shall I ever see them more ? " Oh, how little, how very 
 little to us are the accustomed blessings of our life till some 
 change has robbed us of them, and how dear are they when 
 lost to us ! My uncle's dark foreboding that we should 
 never meet again on earth, came for the first time forcibly 
 to my mind, and my heart was full to bursting. What could 
 repay me for the agony of that moment as I thought of him, 
 my first, my best, my only friend, whom I had deserted ? 
 And how gladly would I have resigned my bright day-dawn 
 of ambition to be once more beside his chair, to hear his 
 voice, to see his smile, to feel his love for me ! A loud 
 laugh from the cabin roused me from my sad, depressing 
 revery, and at the same instant Mike's well-known voice in- 
 formed me that the captain was looking for me everywhere, 
 as supper was on the table. Little as I felt disposed to join 
 the party at such a moment, as I knew there was no escap- 
 ing Power, I resolved to make the best of matters ; so after 
 a few minutes I followed Mickey down the companion and 
 entered the cabin. 
 
 The scene before me was certainly not calculated to per- 
 petuate depressing thoughts. At the head of a rude old- 
 fashioned table, upon which figured several black bottles 
 and various ill-looking drinking vessels of ever}'- shape and 
 material, sat Fred Power ; on his right was placed the skip- 
 per, on his left the doctor, — the bronzed, merry -looking, 
 weather-beaten features of the one contrasting ludicrously 
 with the pale, ascetic, acute-looking expression of the other. 
 Sparks, more than half-drunk, with the mark of a red-hot 
 cigar upon his nether lip, was lower down; while Major 
 IMonsoon, to preserve the symmetry of the party, had pro- 
 truded his head, surmounted by a huge red niglitcap, from 
 the berth opposite, and held out his goblet to be replenished 
 from the punch-bowl. 
 
 "Welcome, thrice welcome, thou man of Galway!" cried 
 out Power, as he pointed to a seat, and pushed a wine-glass 
 toAvards me. " Just in time, too, to pronounce upon a new 
 brewery. Taste that ; a little more of the lemon you would 
 say, perhaps ? Well, I agree with you. Rum and brandy,
 
 FRED POWER'S ADVENTURE IN PHILIPSTOWN. 243 
 
 glenlivet and guava jelly, limes, green tea, and a slight sus- 
 picion of preserved ginger, — nothing else, upon honor, — 
 and the most simple mixture for the cure, the radical cure, 
 of blue devils and debt I know of ; eh, Doctor ? You advise 
 it yourself, to be taken before bed-time ; nothing inflamma- 
 tory in it, nothing pugnacious ; . a mere circulation of the 
 better juices and more genial spirits of the marly clay, 
 without arousing any of the baser passions ; whiskey is the 
 devil for that." 
 
 " I canna say that I dinna like whiskey toddy," said the 
 doctor ; "in the cauld winter nights it's no sae bad." 
 
 "Ah, that's it," said Power; "there 's the pull you 
 Scotch have upon us poor Patlanders, — cool, calculating, 
 long-headed fellows, you only come up to the mark after 
 fifteen tumblers ; whereas we hot-brained devils, with a 
 blood at 212 degrees of Fahrenheit and a high-pressure 
 engine of good spirits always ready for an explosion, we go 
 clean mad when tipsy ; not but I am fully convinced that a 
 mad Irishman is worth two sane people of any other country 
 under heaven." 
 
 " If you mean by that insin — insin — sinuation to imply 
 any disrespect to the English," stuttered out Sparks, " I am 
 bound to say that I for one, and the doctor, I am sure, for 
 another — " 
 
 " Xa, na," interrupted the doctor, " ye mauna coont upon 
 me ; I 'm no disposed to fetch ower our liquor." 
 
 "Then, Major Monsoon, I'm certain — " 
 
 " Are ye, faitli ? " said the major, with a grin ; " blessed are 
 they who expect nothing, — of which number you are not, 
 — for most decidedly you shall be disappointed." 
 
 " jSTever mind. Sparks, take the whole fight to your own 
 proper self, and do battle like a man; and here I stand, 
 ready at all arms to prove my position, — that we drink 
 better, sing better, court better, fight better, and make 
 better punch than every John Bull, from Berwick to the 
 Land's End." 
 
 Sparks, however, who seemed not exactly sure how far 
 his antagonist was disposed to quiz, relapsed into a half- 
 tipsy expression of contemptuous silence, and sipped his 
 liquor without reply.
 
 244 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "Yes," said Power, after a pause, "bad luck to it for 
 whiskey ; it nearly got me broke once, and poor Tom 
 O'Reilly of the 5th, too, the best-tempered fellow in the 
 service. We were as near it as touch and go ; and all for 
 some confounded Loughrea spirits that we believed to be 
 perfectly innocent, and used to swill away freely without 
 suspicion of any kind." 
 
 " Let 's hear the story," said I, " by all means." 
 
 " It 's not a long one," said Power, " so I don't care if I 
 tell it ; and besides, if I make a clean breast of my own sins, 
 I '11 insist upon Monsoon's telling you afterwards how he 
 stocked his cellar in Cadiz. Eh, Major ; there 's worse tipple 
 than the King of Spain's sherry ? " 
 
 "You shall judge for yourself, old boy," said Monsoon, 
 good-humoredly ; " and as for the narrative, it is equally at 
 your service. Of course it goes no further. The commander- 
 in-chief, long life to him ! is a glorious fellow ; but he has 
 no more idea of a joke than the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 and it might chance to reach him." 
 
 " Recount, and fear not ! " cried Power ; " we are discreet 
 as the worshipful company of apothecaries." 
 
 " But you forget you are to lead the way." 
 
 "Here goes, then," said the jolly captain; "not that the 
 story has any merit in it, but the moral is beautiful. 
 
 " Ireland, to be sure, is a beautiful country ; but somehow 
 it would prove a very dull one to be quartered in, if it were 
 not that the people seem to have a natural taste for the 
 army. From the belle of Merrion Square down to the inn- 
 keeper's daughter in Tralee, the loveliest part of the creation 
 seem to have a perfect appreciation of our high acquire- 
 ments and advantages ; and in no other part of the globe, 
 the Tonga Islands included, is a red-coat more in favor. To 
 be sure, they would be very ungrateful if it were not the 
 case ; for we, upon our side, leave no stone unturned to 
 make ourselves agreeable. We ride, drink, play, and make 
 love to the ladies from Fairhead to Killarney, in a way 
 greatly calculated to render us popular ; and as far as mak- 
 ing the time pass pleasantly, we are the boys for the ' great- 
 est happiness ' principle. I repeat it ; we deserve our 
 popularity. Wliich of us does not get head and ears in
 
 FRED POWER'S ADVENTURE IN PHILIPSTOWN. 245 
 
 debt with garrison balls and steeple-chases, picnics, regattas, 
 and the thousand-and-one inventions to get rid of one's spare 
 cash, — so called for being so sparingly dealt out by our 
 governors ? Now and then, too, when all else fails, we take 
 a newly-joined ensign and make him marry some pretty but 
 penniless lass in a country town, just to show the rest that 
 we are not joking, but have serious ideas of matrimony in 
 the midst of all our flirtations. If it were all like this, the 
 Green Isle would be a paradise ; but unluckily every now 
 and then one is condemned to some infernal place where 
 there is neither a pretty face nor tight ankle, where the 
 priest himself is not a good fellow, and long, ill-paved, 
 straggling streets, filled on market days with booths of 
 striped calico and soapy cheese, is the only promenade, 
 and a ruinous barrack, with mouldy walls and a tumbling 
 chimney, the only quarters. 
 
 " In vain, on your return from your morning stroll or 
 afternoon canter, you look on the chimney-piece for a shower 
 of visiting-cards and pink notes of invitation ; in vain you 
 ask your servant. Has any one called. Alas, your only 
 visitor has been the ganger, to demand a party to assist in 
 still-hunting amidst that interesting class of the population 
 ■who, having nothing to eat, are engaged in devising drink, 
 and care as much for the life of a red-coat as you do for 
 that of a crow or a curlew. This may seem overdrawn ; 
 but I would ask you. Were you ever for your sins quartered 
 in that capital city of the Bog of Allen they call Philips- 
 town ? Oh, but it is a romantic spot ! They tell us some- 
 where that much of the expression of the human face 
 divine depends upon the objects which constantly surround 
 us. Thus the inhabitants of mountain districts imbibe, as 
 it were, a certain bold and daring character of expression 
 from the scenery, very different from the placid and monot- 
 onous look of those who dwell in plains and valleys ; and 
 I can certainly credit the theory in this instance, for every 
 man, woman, and child you meet has a brown, baked, scruffy, 
 turf-like face, that fully satisfies you that if Adam were 
 formed of clay the Philipstown people were worse treated 
 and only made of bog mould. 
 
 "Well, one fine morning poor Tom and myself were
 
 246 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 marched off from Birr, where one might 'live and love 
 forever/ to take up our quarters at this sweet spot. Little 
 we knew of Philipstown ; and like my friend the adjutant 
 there, when he laid siege to Derry, we made our entree with 
 all the pomp we could muster, and though we had no band, 
 our drums and fifes did duty for it ; and we brushed along 
 through turf-creels and wicker-baskets of new brogues that 
 obstructed the street till we reached the barrack, — the only 
 testimony of admiration we met with being, I feel bound to 
 admit, from a ragged urchin of ten years, who, with a wattle 
 in his hand, imitated me as I marched along, and when I 
 cried halt, took his leave of us by dexterously fixing his 
 thumb to the side of his nose and outstretching his fingers, 
 as if thus to convey a very strong hint that we were not 
 half so fine fellows as we thought ourselves. Well, four 
 mortal summer months of hot sun and cloudless sky went 
 over, and still we lingered in that vile village, the everlast- 
 ing monotony of our days being marked by the same brief 
 morning drill, the same blue-legged chicken dinner, the 
 same smoky Loughrea whiskey, and the same evening stroll 
 along the canal bank to watch for the Dublin packet-boat, 
 with its never-varying cargo of cattle-dealers, priests, and 
 peelers on their way to the west country, as though the 
 demand for such colonial productions in these parts was 
 insatiable. This was pleasant, you will say ; but what was 
 to be done ? We had nothing else. Now, nothing saps a 
 man's temper like ennui. The cranky, peevish people one 
 meets with would be excellent folk, if they only had some- 
 thing to do. As for us, I '11 venture to say two men more 
 disposed to go pleasantly down the current of life it were 
 hard to meet with ; and yet, such was the consequence of 
 these confounded four months' sequestration from all other 
 society, we became sour and cross-grained, everlastingly dis- 
 puting about trifles, and continually arguing about matters 
 which neither were interested in, nor, indeed, knew any- 
 thing about. There were, it is true, few topics to discuss ; 
 newspapers we never saw ; sporting there was none, — but 
 then, the drill, the return of duty, the probable chances 
 of our being ordered for service, were all daily subjects to 
 be talked over, and usually with considerable asperity and
 
 FRED POWER'S ADVENTURE IN PHELIPSTOWN. 247 
 
 bitterness. One point, however, always served us when 
 hard pushed for a bone of contention ; and which, be^un 
 by a mere accident at first, gradually increased to a sore 
 and peevish subject, and finally led to the consequences 
 which I have hinted at in the beginning. This was no less 
 than the respective merits of our mutual servants ; each 
 everlastingly indulging in a tirade against the other for 
 awkwardness, incivility, unhandiness, — charges, I am bound 
 to confess, most amply proved on either side. 
 
 " 'Well, I am sure, O'Reilly, if you can stand that fellow, 
 it's no affair of mine ; but such an ungainly savage I never 
 met,' I would say. 
 
 " To which he would reply, ' Bad enough he is, certainly ; 
 but, by Jove ! Avhen I only think of your Hottentot, I feel 
 grateful for Avhat I 've got.' 
 
 "Then ensued a discussion, Avith attack, rejoinder, charge, 
 and recrimination till we retired for the night, wearied with 
 our exertions, and not a little ashamed of ourselves at bot- 
 tom for our absurd warmth and excitement. In the morn- 
 ing the matter would be rigidly avoided by each party until 
 some chance occasion had brought it on the tapis, when hos- 
 tilities would be immediately renewed, and carried on with 
 the same vigor, to end as before. 
 
 "In this agreeable state of matters we sat one warm 
 summer evening before the mess-room, under the shade of 
 a canvas awning, discussing, by way of refrigerant, our 
 eighth tumbler of whiskey punch. We had, as usual, been 
 jarring away about everything under heaven. A lately 
 arrived post-chaise, with an old, stiff-looking gentleman 
 in a queue, had formed a kind of ' godsend ' for debate, as 
 to who he was, whither he was going, whether he really 
 had intended to spend the night there, or that he only put 
 up because the chaise was broken ; each, as was customary, 
 maintaining his own opinion with an obstinacy we have 
 often since laughed at, though, at the time, we had few 
 mirthful thoughts about the matter. 
 
 "As the debate w^axed warm, O'Reilly asserted that he 
 positively knew the individual in question to be a United 
 Irishman, travelling with instructions from the French gov- 
 ernment ; while I laughed him to scorn by swearing that
 
 248 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 he was the rector of Tyrrell's Pass, that I knew him well, 
 and, moreover, that he was the worst preacher in Ireland. 
 Singular enough it was that all this while the disputed 
 identity was himself standing coolly at the inn window, 
 with his snuff-box in his hand, leisurely surveying us as we 
 sat, appearing, at least, to take a very lively interest in our 
 debate. 
 
 " ' Come, now,' said O'Reilly, ' there 's only one way to 
 conclude this, and make you pay for your obstinacy. What 
 will you bet that he 's the rector of Tyrrell's Pass ? ' 
 
 " ' What odds will you take that he 's Wolfe Tone ? ' 
 inquired I, sneeringly. 
 
 " ' Five to one against the rector,' said he, exultingly. 
 
 " ' An elephant's molar to a toothpick against Wolfe 
 Tone,' cried I. 
 
 " ' Ten pounds even that I 'm nearer the mark than you,' 
 said Tom, with a smash of his list upon the table. 
 
 " ' Done,' said I, — ' done. But how are we to decide the 
 wager ? ' 
 
 " ' That 's soon done,' said he. At the same instant he 
 sprang to his legs and called out : ' Pat, I say, Pat, I want 
 you to present my respects to — ' 
 
 " ' No, no, I bar that ; no ex parte statements. Here, 
 Jem, do you simply tell that — ' 
 
 " ' That fellow can't deliver a message. Do come here, 
 Pat. Just beg of — ' 
 
 " ' He '11 blunder it, the confounded fool ; so, Jem, do 
 you go.' 
 
 " The two individuals thus addressed were just in the act 
 of conveying a tray of glasses and a spiced round of beef for 
 supper into the mess-room ; and as I may remark that they 
 fully entered into the feelings of jealousy their respective 
 masters professed, each eyed the other with a look of very 
 unequivocal dislike. 
 
 " ' Arrah ! you need n't be pushing me that way,' said 
 Pat, 'an' the round o' beef in my hands.' 
 
 " ' Devil's luck to ye, it 's the glasses you '11 be breaking 
 with your awkward elbow ! ' 
 
 " ' Then, why don't ye leave the way ? Ain't I your 
 suparior ? '
 
 FRED POWER'S ADVENTURE IN PHILIPSTOWN. 249 
 
 " ' Ain't I the captain's own man ? ' 
 
 " ' Ay, and if you war. Don't I belong to his betters ? 
 Is n't my master the two liftenants ? ' 
 
 " This, strange as it may sound, was so far true, as I held 
 a commission in an African corps, with my lieutenancy in 
 the 5th. 
 
 " ' Be-gorra, av he was six — There now, you done it ! ' 
 
 '■At the same moment, a tremendous crash took place 
 and the large dish fell in a thousand pieces on the pave- 
 
 ^~"i,^w% 
 
 ment, while the spiced round rolled pensively down the 
 yard. 
 
 " Scarcely was the noise heard when, with one vigorous 
 kick, the tray of glasses was sent spinning into the air, and 
 the next moment the disputants were engaged in bloody 
 battle. It was at this moment that our attention was first 
 drawn towards them, and I need not say with what feelings 
 of interest we looked on. 
 
 " ' Hit him, Pat — there, Jem, under the guard ! That 's 
 it — go in ! Well done, left hand I By Jove ! that was a
 
 250 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 facer ! His eye 's closed — he 's down I Not a bit of it — 
 how do you like that ? Unfair, unfair ! No such thing ! 
 I say it was ! Not at all — I deny it ! ' 
 
 "By this time we had approached the combatants, each 
 man patting his own fellow on the back, and encouraging 
 him by the most lavish promises. Now it was, but in what 
 way I never could exactly tell, that I threw out my right 
 hand to stop a blow that I saw coming rather too near me, 
 when, by some unhappy mischance, my doubled fist lighted 
 upon Tom O'Reilly's nose. Before I could express my sin- 
 cere regret for the accident, the blow was returned with 
 double force, and the next moment we were at it harder 
 than the others. After five minutes' sharp work, we both 
 stopped for breath, and incontinently burst out a-laughing. 
 There was Tom, with a nose as large as three, a huge cheek 
 on one side, and the whole head swinging round like a har- 
 lequin's ; while I, with one eye closed, and the other like a 
 half-shut cockle-shell, looked scarcely less rueful. We had 
 not much time for mirth, for at the same instant a sharp, 
 full voice called out close beside us • — 
 
 *' ' To your quarters, sirs. I put you both under arrest, 
 from which you are not to be released until the sentence of 
 a court-martial decide if conduct such as this becomes officers 
 and gentlemen.' 
 
 " I looked round, and saw the old fellow in the queue, 
 
 "'Wolfe Tone, by all that's unlucky!' said I, with an 
 attempt at a smile. 
 
 " ' The rector of Tyrrell's Pass,' cried out Tom, with a 
 snuffle ; ' the worst preacher in Ireland — eh, Fred ? ' 
 
 "We had not much time for further commentaries upon 
 our friend, for he at once opened his frock coat, and dis- 
 played to our horrified gaze the uniform of a general officer. 
 
 " * Yes, sir, General Johnson, if you will allow me to 
 present him to your acquaintance ; and now, guard, turn 
 out.' 
 
 "In a few minutes more the orders were issued, and poor 
 Tom and myself found ourselves fast confined to our quar- 
 ters, with a sentinel at the door, and the pleasant prospect 
 that, in the space of about ten days, we should be broke, and 
 dismissed the service ; which verdict, as the general order
 
 FRED POWER'S ADVEXTURE IN PHILIPSTOWN. 251 
 
 would say, the commander of the forces has been graciously 
 pleased to approve. 
 
 '* However, when morning came the old general, who was 
 really a trump, inquired a little further into the matter, saw 
 it was partly accidental, and after a severe reprimand, and 
 a caution about Loughrea whiskey after the sixth tumbler, 
 released us from arrest, and forgave the whole aifair."
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE VOYAGE CONTINUED. 
 
 Ugh, what a miserable thing is a voyage ! Here we 
 are now eight days at sea, the eternal sameness of all 
 around growing every hour less supportable. Sea and sky 
 are beautiful things when seen from the dark woods and 
 waving meadows on shore ; but their picturesque effect 
 is sadly marred from want of contrast. Besides that, tlie 
 " tot/Jours pork," with crystals of salt as long as your wife's 
 fingers ; the potatoes that seemed varnished in French pol- 
 ish ; the tea seasoned with geological specimens from the 
 basin of London, ycleped maple sugar ; and the butter — 
 ye gods, the butter ! But why enumerate these smaller 
 features of discomfort and omit the more glaring ones ? — 
 the utter selfishness which blue water suggests, as inev- 
 itably as the cold fit follows the ague. The good fellow 
 that shares his knapsack or his last guinea on land, here 
 forages out the best corner to hang his hammock ; jockej^s 
 yoit into a comfortless crib, where the uncalked deck-butt 
 filters every rain from heaven on your head ; votes you 
 the corner at dinner, not only that he may place you with 
 your back to the thorough-draught of the gangway ladder, 
 but that he may eat, drink, and lie down before you have 
 even begun to feel the qualmishness that the dinner of a 
 troop-ship is well calculated to suggest ; cuts his pencil 
 with your best razor ; wears your shirts, as washing is 
 scarce ; and winds up all by having a good story of you 
 every evening for the edification of the other "sharp gen- 
 tlemen," who, being too wide awake to be humbugged them- 
 selves, enjoy his success prodigiously. This, gentle reader, 
 is neither confession nor avowal of mine. The passage I 
 have here presented to you I have taken from the journal 
 of my brother officer, Mr. Sparks, who, when not otherwise 
 occupied, usually employed his time in committing to paper
 
 THE VOYAGE CONTINUED. 253 
 
 liis thoughts upon men, manners, and things at sea in gen- 
 eral ; though, sooth to say, his was not an idle life. Being 
 voted by unanimous consent "a junior," he was condemned 
 to offices that the veriest fag in Eton or Harrow had re- 
 belled against. In the morning, under the pseudonym of 
 Mrs. Sparks, he presided at breakfast, having previously 
 made tea, coifee, and chocolate for the whole cabin, besides 
 boiling about twenty eggs at various degrees of hardness ; 
 he was under heavy recognizances to provide a plate of 
 buttered toast of very alarming magnitude, fried ham, kid- 
 neys, etc., to no end. Later on, when others sauntered 
 about the deck, vainly endeavoring to fix their attention 
 upon a novel or a review, the poor cornet might be seen 
 with a white apron tucked gracefully round his spare pro- 
 portions, whipping eggs for pancakes, or, with upturned 
 shirt-sleeves, fashioning dough for a pudding. As the day 
 waned, the cook's galley became his haunt, where, exposed 
 to a roasting fire, he inspected the details of a cuisine; for 
 which, whatever his demerits, he was sure of an ample 
 remuneration in abuse at dinner. Then came the dinner 
 itself, that dread ordeal, where nothing was praised and 
 everything censured. This was followed by the punch- 
 making, where the tastes of six different and differing in- 
 dividuals were to be exclusively consulted in the self-same 
 beverage ; and lastly, the supper at night, when Sparkle, 
 as he was familiarly called, towards evening grown quite 
 exhausted, became the subject of unmitigated wrath and 
 most unmeasured reprobation. 
 
 " I say. Sparks, it 's getting late. The spatch-cock, old 
 boy. Don't be slumbering." 
 
 " By-the-bye, Sparkle, what a mess you made of that pea- 
 soup to-day ! By Jove, I never felt so ill in my life ! " 
 
 " iSTa, na ; it was na the soup. It was something he pit 
 in the punch, that 's burning me ever since I tuk it. Ou, 
 man, but ye 're an awfu' creture wi' vittals ! " 
 
 " He '11 improve, Doctor ; he '11 improve. Don't discourage 
 him ; the boy 's young. Be alive now, there. Where 's the 
 toast ? — confound you, where 's the toast ? " 
 
 " There, Sparks, you like a drumstick, I know. Must n't 
 muzzle the ox, eh ? Scripture for you, old boy. Eat away j
 
 254 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 hang the expense. Hand him over the jug. Emr»ty — eh, 
 Charley ? Come, Sparkle, bear a hand ; the liquor 's out." 
 
 " But won't you let me eat ? " 
 
 '• Eat ! Heavens, what a fellow for eating ! By George, 
 such an appetite is clean against the articles of war ! Come, 
 man, it 's drink we 're thinking of. There 's the rum, sugar, 
 limes ; see to the hot water. Well, Skipper, how are we get- 
 ting on ? " 
 
 " Lying our course ; eight knots off the log. Pass the 
 rum. Why, Mister Sparks ! " 
 
 '< Eh, Sparks, what 's this ? " 
 
 *' Sparks, my man, confound it ! " 
 
 And then, omnes chorussing " Sparks ! " in every key of 
 the gamut, the luckless fellow would be obliged to jump 
 up from his meagre fare and set to work at a fresh brewage 
 of punch for the others. The bowl and the glasses filled, 
 by some little management on Power's part our friend the 
 cornet would be drawn out, as the phrase is, into some con- 
 fession of his early years, which seemed to have been exclu- 
 sively spent in love-making, — devotion to the fair being 
 as integral a portion of his character as tij^pling was of the 
 worthy major's. 
 
 Like most men who pass their lives in over-studious efforts 
 to please, — however ungallant the confession be, — the ami- 
 able Sparks had had little success. His love, if not, as it 
 generally happened, totally unrequited, was invariably the 
 source of some awkward catastrophe, there being no imagin- 
 able error he had not at some time or other fallen into, nor 
 any conceivable mischance to which he had not been exposed. 
 Inconsolable widows, attached wives, fond mothers, newly- 
 married brides, engaged young ladies were by some contre- 
 temps continually the subject of his attachments ; and the 
 least mishap which followed the avowal of his passion was 
 to be heartily laughed at and obliged to leave the neighbor- 
 hood. Duels, apologies, actions at law, compensations, etc., 
 were of e very-day occurrence, and to such an extent, too, 
 that any man blessed with a smaller bump upon the occi- 
 put would eventually have long since abandoned the pur- 
 suit, and taken to some less expensive pleasure. But poor 
 Sparks, in the true spirit of a martyr, only gloried the
 
 THE VOYAGE CONTINUED. 255 
 
 more, the more he suffered ; and like the worthy man who 
 continued to purchase tickets in the lottery for thirty years, 
 with nothing but a succession of blanks, he ever imagined 
 that Fortune was only trying his patience, and had some 
 cool forty thousand pounds of happiness waiting his perse- 
 verance in the end. Whether this prize ever did turn up in 
 the course of years, I am unable to say ; but certainly, up to 
 the period of his history I now speak of, all had been as 
 gloomy and unrequiting as need be. Power, who knew some- 
 thing of every man's adventures, was aware of so much of 
 poor Sparks's career, and usually contrived to lay a trap 
 for a confession that generally served to amuse us during 
 an evening, — as much, I acknowledge, from the manner of 
 the recital as anything contained in the story. There was 
 a species of serious matter-of-fact simplicity in his detail 
 of the most ridiculous scenes that left you convinced that 
 his bearing upon the affair in question must have greatly 
 heightened the absurdity, — nothing, however comic or droll 
 in itself, ever exciting in him the least approach to a smile. 
 He sat with his large light-blue eyes, light hair, long upper 
 lip, and retreating chin, lisping out an account of an adven- 
 ture, with a look of Liston about him that was inconceivably 
 amusing. 
 
 " Come, Sparks," said Power, "I claim a promise you made 
 me the other night, on condition we let you off making the 
 oyster-patties at ten o'clock ; you can't forget what I mean." 
 Here the captain knowingly touched the tip of his ear, at 
 which signal the cornet colored slightly, and drank off his 
 wine in a hurried, confused way. " He promised to tell us, 
 Major, how he lost the tip of his left ear. I have myself 
 heard hints of the circumstance, but would much rather 
 hear Sparks's own version of it." 
 
 " Another love story," said the doctor, with a grin, " I '11 
 be bound." 
 
 " Shot off in a duel ? " said I, inquiringly. " Close work, 
 too." 
 
 "'No such thing," replied Power ; "but Sparks will en- 
 lighten you. It is, without exception, the most touching 
 and beautiful thing I ever heard. As a simple story, it 
 beats the 'Vicar of Wakefield' to sticks."
 
 256 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " You don't say so ? " said poor Sparks, blushing. 
 
 " Ay, tliat I do ; and maintain it, too. I 'd rather be the 
 hero of that little adventure, and be able to recount it as 
 you do, — for, mark me, that 's no small part of the effect, 
 — than I 'd be full colonel of the regiment. Well, I am 
 sure I always thought it affecting. But, somehow, my dear 
 friend, you don't know your powers ; you have that within 
 you would make the fortune of half the periodicals going. 
 Ask Monsoon or O'Malley there if I did not say so at break- 
 fast, when you were grilling the old hen, — which, by-the- 
 bye, let me remark, was not one of your chefs-d^ceuvre.^^ 
 
 " A tougher beastie I never put a tooth in." 
 
 " But the story, the story," said I. 
 
 " Yes," said Power, with a tone of command, " the story, 
 Sparks." 
 
 " Well, if you really think it worth telling, as I have 
 always felt it a very remarkable incident, here goes."
 
 CHAPTEE XXXII. 
 
 MR. SPARKS'S STORY. 
 
 "I SAT at breakfast one beautiful morning at the Goat 
 Inn at Barmouth, looking out of a window upon the lovely 
 vale of Barmouth, with its tall trees and brown trout-stream 
 struggling through the woods, then turning to take a view 
 of the calm sea, that, speckled over with white-sailed fishing- 
 boats, stretched away in the distance. The eggs were fresh ; 
 the trout newly caught ; the cream delicious. Before me lay 
 the 'Plwdwddlwn Advertiser,' which, among the fashion- 
 able arrivals at the seaside, set forth Mr. Sparks, nephew 
 of Sir Toby Sparks, of Manchester, — a paragraph, by the 
 way, I always inserted. The English are naturally an aris- 
 tocratic people, and set a due value upon a title." 
 
 "A very just observation," remarked Power, seriously, 
 while Sparks continued. 
 
 " However, as far as any result from the announcement, 
 I might as well have spared myself the trouble, for not a 
 single person called. Not one solitary invitation to dinner, 
 not a picnic, not a breakfast, no, nor even a tea-party, was 
 heard of. Barmouth, at the time I speak of, was just in 
 that transition state at which the caterpillar may be im- 
 agined, when, having abandoned his reptile habits, he still 
 has not succeeded in becoming a butterfly. In fact, it had 
 ceased to be a fishing village, but had not arrived at the 
 dignity of a watering-place. Now, I know nothing as bad 
 as this. You have not, on one hand, the quiet retirement 
 of a little peaceful hamlet, with its humble dwellings and 
 cheap pleasures, nor have you the gay and animated tableau 
 of fashion in miniature, on the other ; but you have noise, 
 din, bustle, confusion, beautiful scenery and lovely points 
 of view marred and ruined by vulgar associations. Every 
 bold rock and jutting promontory has its citizen occupants ; 
 every sandy cove or tide-washed bay has its myriads of 
 
 VOL. I. — 17
 
 258 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 squalling babes and red baize-clad bathing women, — those 
 veritable descendants of the nymphs of old. Pink para- 
 sols, donkey-carts, baskets of bread-and-butter, reticules, 
 guides to Barmouth, specimens of ore, fragments of gyp- 
 sum meet you at every step, and destroy every illusion of 
 the picturesque. 
 
 " ' I shall leave this,' thought I. ' My dreams, my long- 
 cherished dreams of romantic walks upon the sea-shore, of 
 evening strolls by moonlight, through dell and dingle, are 
 reduced to a short promenade through an alley of bathing- 
 boxes, amidst a screaming population of nursery-maids and 
 sick children, with a thorough-bass of " Fresh shrimps ! " 
 discordant enough to frighten the very fish from the shores. 
 There is no peace, no quiet, no romance, no poetry, no love.' 
 Alas, that most of all was wanting ! For, after all, what is 
 it which lights up the heart, save the flame of a mutual 
 attachment ? What gilds the fair stream of life, save the 
 bright ray of warm affection ? What — " 
 
 " In a word," said Power, " it is the sugar in the punch- 
 bowl of our existence. Percje^ Sparks ; push on." 
 
 " I was not long in making up my mind. I called for my 
 bill ; I packed my clothes ; I ordered post-horses ; I was 
 ready to start ; one item in the bill alone detained me. The 
 frequent occurrence of the enigmatical word 'crw,' following 
 my servant's name, demanded an explanation, which I was 
 in the act of receiving, when a chaise-and-four drove rapidly 
 up to the house. In a moment the blinds were drawn up, 
 and such a head appeared at the window ! Let me pause 
 for one moment to drink in the remembrance of that lovely 
 being, — eyes where heaven's own blue seemed concentrated 
 were shaded by long, deep lashes of the darkest brown ; a 
 brow fair, noble, and expansive, at each side of which 
 masses of dark-brown hair waved half in ringlets, half in 
 loose falling bands, shadowing her pale and downy cheek, 
 where one faint rosebud tinge seemed lingering ; lips 
 slightly parted, as though to speak, gave to the features 
 all the play of animation which completed this intellectual 
 character, and made up — " 
 
 "What I should say was a devilish pretty girl," inter- 
 rupted Power.
 
 MR. SPARKS'S STORY. 259 
 
 "Back the widow against her at long odds, any day," 
 murmured the adjutant. 
 
 " She was an angel ! an angel I " cried Sparks with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " So was the widow, if you go to that," said the adjutant, 
 hastily. 
 
 " And so is Matilda Dalrymple," said Power, with a sly 
 look at me. " We are all honorable men ; eh, Charley ? " 
 
 " Go ahead with the story," said the skipper ; " 1 'm 
 beginning to feel an interest in it." 
 
 " ' Isabella,' said a man's voice, as a large, well-dressed 
 personage assisted her to alight, — ' Isabella, love, you must 
 take a little rest here before we proceed farther.' 
 
 " ' I think she had better, sir,' said a matronly-looking 
 woman, with a plaid cloak and a black bonnet. 
 
 " They disappeared within the house, and I was left alone. 
 The bright dream was past: she was there no longer; but 
 in my heart her image lived, and I almost felt she was 
 before me. I thought I heard her voice, I saw her move ; my 
 limbs trembled ; my hands tingled ; I rang the bell, ordered 
 my trunks back again to No. 5, and as I sank upon the sofa, 
 murmured to myself, ' This is indeed love at first sight.' " 
 
 " How devilish sudden it was," said the skipper. 
 
 " Exactly like camp fever," responded the doctor. " One 
 moment ye are vara well ; the next ye are seized wi' a kind 
 of shivering ; then comes a kind of mandering, dandering, 
 travelling a'overness." 
 
 " D — the camp fever," interrupted Power. 
 
 " Well, as I observed, I fell in love ; and here let me take 
 the opportunity of observing that all that we are in the 
 habit of hearing about single or only attachments is mere 
 nonsense. No man is so capable of feeling deeply as he who 
 is in the daily practice of it. Love, like everything else in 
 this world, demands a species of cultivation. The mere 
 t}'ro in an affair of the heart thinks he has exhausted all 
 its pleasures and pains ; but only he who has made it his 
 daily study for years, familiarizing his mind with every 
 phase of the passion, can properly or adequately appre- 
 ciate it. Thus, the more you love, the better you love ; the 
 more frequently has your heart yielded — "
 
 260 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " It 's vara like the mucous membrane," said the doctor. 
 
 " I '11 break your neck with tlie decanter if you interrupt 
 him again ! " exclaimed Power. 
 
 " For days I scarcely ever left the house," resumed Sparks, 
 " watching to catch one glance of the lovely Isabella. My 
 farthest excursion was to the little garden of the inn, where 
 I used to set every imaginable species of snare, in the event 
 of her venturing to walk there. One day I would leave a 
 volume of poetry •, another, a copy of Paul and Virginia 
 with a marked page ; sometimes my guitar, with a broad, 
 blue ribbon, would hang pensively from a tree, — but, alas ! 
 all in vain ; she never appeared. At length I took courage 
 to ask the waiter about her. For some minutes he could 
 not comprehend what I meant ; but, at last, discovering 
 my object, he cried out, ' Oh, No. 8, sir ; it is No. 8 you 
 mean ? ' 
 
 " ' It may be,' said I. ' What of her, then ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh, sir, she 's gone these three days.' 
 
 " ' Gone ! ' said I, with a groan. 
 
 " ' Yes, sir ; she left this early on Tuesday with the same 
 old gentleman and the old woman in a chaise-and-four. 
 They ordered horses at Dolgelly to meet them ; but I don't 
 know which road they took afterwards,' 
 
 " I fell back on my chair unable to speak. Here was I 
 enacting Eomeo for three mortal daj's to a mere company 
 of Welsh Avaiters and chamber-maids, sighing, serenading, 
 reciting, attitudinizing, rose-plucking, soliloquizing, half- 
 suiciding, and all for the edification of a set of savages, 
 with about as much civilization as their own goats. 
 
 " ' The bill,' cned I, in a voice of thunder ; ' my bill this 
 instant.' 
 
 " I had been imposed upon shamefully, grossly imposed 
 upon, and would not remain another hour in the house. 
 Such were my feelings at least, and so thinking, I sent 
 for my servant, abused him for not having my clothes 
 ready packed. He replied ; I reiterated, and as my temper 
 mounted, vented every imaginable epithet upon his head, 
 and concluded by paying him his wages and sending him 
 about his business. In one hour more I was upon tlie 
 road.
 
 MR. SPARKS'S STORY, 261 
 
 " ' Wliat road, sir,' said the postilion, as he mounted into 
 the saddle. 
 
 " ' To the devil, if you please,' said I, throwing myself 
 back in the carriage. 
 
 " ' Very well, sir,' replied the boy, putting spurs to his 
 horse. 
 
 " That evening I arrived in Bedgellert. 
 
 " The little humble inn of Bedgellert, with its thatched 
 roof and earthen floor, was a most welcome sight to me, 
 after eleven hours' travelling on a broiling July day. Be- 
 hind the very house itself rose the mighty Snowdon, tower- 
 ing high above the other mountains, whose lofty peaks were 
 lost amidst the clouds ; before me was the narrow valley — " 
 
 " Wake me up when he 's under way again," said the 
 skipper, yawning fearfully. 
 
 " Go on, Sparks," said Power, encouragingly ; " I was 
 never more interested in my life ; eh, O'Malley ? " 
 
 " Quite thrilling," responded I, and Sparks resumed. 
 
 "Three weeks did I loiter about that sweet spot, my 
 mind filled with images of the past and dreams of the 
 future, my fishing-rod my only companion. Not, indeed, 
 that I ever caught anything ; for, somehow, my tackle was 
 always getting foul of some willow-tree or water-lily, and 
 at last, I gave up even the pretence of whipping the 
 streams. Well, one day — I remember it as well as though 
 it were but yesterday, it was the 4th of August — I had 
 set off upon an excursion to Llanberris. I had crossed 
 Snowdon early, and reached the little lake on the opposite 
 side by breakfast time. There I sat down near the ruined 
 tower of Dolbadern, and opening my knapsack, made a 
 hearty meal. I have ever been a day-dreamer ; and there 
 are few things I like better than to lie, upon some hot and 
 sunny day, in the tall grass beneath the shade of some deep 
 boughs, with running water murmuring near, hearing the 
 summer bee buzzing monotonously, and in the distance, the 
 clear, sharp tinkle of the sheep-bell. In such a place, at 
 such a time, one's fancy strays playfully, like some happy 
 child, and none but pleasant thoughts present themselves. 
 Fatigued by my long walk, and overcome by heat, I fell 
 asleep. How long I lay there I cannot tell, but the deep
 
 262 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 shadows were half way down the tall mountain when I 
 awoke. A sound had startled me ; I thought I heard a 
 voice speaking close to me. I looked up, and for some 
 seconds I could not believe that I was not dreaming. Be- 
 side me, within a few paces, stood Isabella, the beautiful 
 vision that I had seen at Barmouth, but far, a thousand 
 times, more beautiful. She was dressed in something like 
 a peasant's dress, and wore the round hat which, in Wales 
 at least, seems to suit the character of the female face so 
 Avell ; her long and waving ringlets fell carelessly upon her 
 shoulders, and her cheek flushed from walking. Before I 
 had a moment's notice to recover my roving thought, she 
 spoke ; her voice was full and round, but soft and thrilling, 
 as she said, — 
 
 "*I beg pardon, sir, for having disturbed you uncon- 
 sciously ; but, having done so, may I request you will assist 
 me to fill this pitcher with water ? ' 
 
 "She pointed at the same time to a small stream which 
 trickled down a fissure in the rock, and formed a little well 
 of clear water beneath. I bowed deeply, and murmuring 
 something, I know not what, took the pitcher from her 
 hand, and scaling the rocky cliff, mounted to the clear 
 source above, where having filled the vessel, I descended. 
 When I reached the ground beneath, I discovered that she 
 was joined by another person whom, in an instant, I recog- 
 nized to be the old gentleman I had seen with her at Bar- 
 mouth, and who in the most courteous manner apologized 
 for the trouble I had been caused, and informed me that a 
 party of his friends were enjoying a little picnic quite near, 
 and invited me to make one of them. 
 
 " I need not say that I accepted the invitation, nor that 
 with delight I seized the opportunity of forming an ac- 
 quaintance with Isabella, who, I must confess, upon her 
 part showed no disinclination to the prospect of my joining 
 the party. 
 
 " After a few minutes' walking, we came to a small rocky 
 point which projected for some distance into the lake, and 
 offered a view for several miles of the vale of Llanberris. 
 Upon this lovely spot we found the party assembled ; they 
 consisted of about fourteen or fifteen persons, all busily
 
 MR. SPARKS'S STORY. 263 
 
 engaged in the arrangement of a very excellent cold dinner, 
 each individual having some peculiar province allotted to 
 him or her, to be performed by their own hands. Thus, 
 one elderly gentlemen was whipping cream under a chest- 
 nut-tree, while a very fashionably-dressed young man was 
 washing radishes in the lake ; an old lady with spectacles 
 was frying salmon over a wood-lire, opposite to a shoi't, 
 pursy man with a bald head and drab shorts, deep in the 
 mystery of a chicken salad, from which he never lifted his 
 eyes when I came up. It was thus I found how the fair 
 Isabella's lot had been cast, as a drawer of water ; she, 
 with the others, contributing her share of exertion for the 
 common good. The old gentleman who accompanied her 
 seemed the only unoccupied person, and appeared to be 
 regarded as the ruler of the feast ; at least, they all called 
 him general, and implicitly followed every suggestion he 
 threw out. He was a man of a certain grave and quiet 
 manner, blended with a degree of mild good-nature and 
 courtesy, that struck me much at first, and gained greatly 
 on me, even in the few minutes I conversed with him as 
 we came along. Just before he presented me to his friends, 
 he gently touched my .arm, and drawing me aside, whis- 
 pered in my ear : — 
 
 " ' Don't be surprised at anything you may hear to-day 
 here ; for I must inform you this is a kind of club, as I 
 may call it, where every one assumes a certain character, 
 and IS bound to sustain it under a penalty. We have these 
 little meetings every now and then; and as strangers are 
 never present, I feel some explanation necessary, that you 
 may be able to enjoy the thing, — you understand ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh, perfectly,' said I, overjoyed at the novelty of the 
 scene, and anticipating much pleasure from my chance 
 meeting with such very original characters. 
 
 " * Mr. Sparks, Mrs. Winterbottom. Allow me to present 
 Mr. Sparks.' 
 
 " ' Any news from Batavia, young gentleman ? ' said the 
 sallow old lady addressed. ' How is coffee ! ' 
 
 "The general passed on, introducing me rapidly as he 
 went. 
 
 "'Mr. Doolittle, Mr. Sparks.'
 
 2G4 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' All, how do you do, old boy ? ' said Mr. Doolittle ; ' sit 
 down beside me. We have forty thousand acres of pickled 
 cabbage spoiling for want of a little vinegar.' 
 
 " ' Fie, fie, Mr. Doolittle,' said the general, and passed on 
 to another. 
 
 " ' Mr. Sparks, Captain Crosstree.' 
 
 " ' Ah, Sparks, Sparks ! son of old Blazes ! ha, ha, ha ! ' and 
 the captain fell back into an immoderate fit of laughter. 
 
 " ' Le Rio est servl/ saidthe thin meagre figure in nan- 
 keens, bowing, cap in hand, before the general ; and ac- 
 cordingly, we all assumed our places upon the grass. 
 
 " ' Say it again ! Say it again, and I '11 plunge this dagger 
 in your heart ! ' said a hollow voice, tremulous with agita- 
 tion and rage, close beside me. I turned my head, and 
 saw an old gentleman with a wart on his nose, sitting 
 opposite a meat-pie, which he was contemplating with a 
 look of fiery indignation. Before I could witness the sequel 
 of the scene, I felt a soft hand pressed upon mine. I 
 turned. It was Isabella herself, who, looking at me with 
 an expression I shall never forget, said : — 
 
 " ' Don't mind yjoor Faddy ; he never hurts any one.' 
 
 " Meanwhile the business of dinner went on raj^idly. The 
 servants, of whom enormous numbers were now present, 
 ran hither and thither; and duck, ham, pigeon-pie, cold 
 veal, apple tarts, cheese, pickled salmon, melon, and rice 
 pudding, flourished on every side. As for me, whatever I 
 might have gleaned from the conversation around under 
 other circumstances, I was too much occupied with Isabella 
 to think of any one else. My suit — for such it was — pro- 
 gressed rapidly. There was evidently something favorable 
 in the circumstances we last met under; for her manner 
 had all the warmth and cordiality of old friendship. It is 
 true that, more than once, I caught the general's eye fixed 
 upon us with anything but an expression of pleasure, and 
 I thought that Isabella blushed and seemed confused also. 
 ' What care I ? ' however, was my reflection ; * ray views are 
 honorable ; and the nephew and heir of Sir Toby Sparks — ' 
 Just in the very act of making this reflection, the old man 
 in the shorts hit me in the eye with a roasted apple, calling 
 out at the moment: —
 
 MR. SPARKS'S STORY. 265 
 
 " ' When did you join, thou child of the pale-faces ? ' 
 
 " ' Mr. Murdocks ! ' cried the general, in a voice of thun- 
 der ; and the little man hung down his head, and spoke not. 
 
 "*A word with you, young gentleman,' said a fat old 
 lady, pinching my arm above the elbow. 
 
 *' < Never mind her,' said Isabella, smiling ; ' poor dear 
 old Dorking, she thinks she 's an hour-glass. How droll, 
 is n't it ? ' 
 
 "■ ' Young man, have you any feelings of humanity ? ' 
 inquired the old lady, with tears in her eyes as she spoke ; 
 ' will you, dare you assist a fellow-creature under my sad 
 circumstances ? ' 
 
 " ' What can I do for you, Madam ? ' said I, really feeling 
 for her distress. 
 
 "'Just like a good dear soul, just turn me up, for I'm 
 nearly run out.' 
 
 " Isabella burst out a laughing at the strange request, — 
 an excess which, I confess, I was unable myself to repress ; 
 upon which the old lady, putting on a frown of the most 
 ominous blackness, said: — 
 
 " ' You may laugh, Madam ; but first before you ridicule 
 the misfortunes of others, ask yourself are you, too, free 
 from infirmity ? When did you see the ace of spades, 
 Madam ? Answer me that.' 
 
 " Isabella became suddenly pale as death ; her very lips 
 blanched, and her voice, almost inaudible, muttered : — 
 
 '' ' Am I, then, deceived ? Is not this he ? ' So saying, 
 she placed her hand upon my shoulder. 
 
 " ' That the ace of spades ? ' exclaimed the old lady, with 
 a sneer, — ' that the ace of spades ! ' 
 
 " ' Are you, or are you not, sir ? ' said Isabella, fixing her 
 deep and languid eyes upon me. ' Answer me, as you are 
 honest ; are you the ace of spades ? ' 
 
 " ' He is the King of Tuscarora. Look at his war paint!' 
 cried an elderly gentleman, putting a streak of mustard 
 across my nose and cheek. 
 
 " ' Then am I deceived,' said Isabella. And flying at me,_ 
 she plucked a handful of hair out of my whiskers. 
 
 " ' Cuckoo, cuckoo ! ' shouted one ; ' Bow - wow - wow ! ' 
 roared ajiother; 'Phiz!' went a third; and in an instant.
 
 266 CHARLES O'xMALLEY. 
 
 sucli a scene of commotion and riot ensued. Plates, dishes, 
 knives, forks, and decanters flew right and left ; every one 
 pitched into his neighbor with the most fearful cries, and 
 hell itself seemed broke loose. The hour-glass and the 
 Moulah of Oude had got me down and were pummelling me 
 to death, when a short, thickset man came on all fours slap 
 down upon them shouting out, ' Way, make way for the 
 royal Bengal tiger ! ' at which they both fled like lightning, 
 leaving me to the encounter single-handed. Fortunately, 
 however, this was not of very long duration, for some well- 
 disposed Christians pulled him from off me ; not, however, 
 before he had seized me in his grasp, and bitten off a portion 
 of my left ear, leaving me, as you see, thus mutilated for 
 the rest of my days." 
 
 '' What an extraordinary club," broke in the doctor. 
 
 " Club, sir, club ! it was a lunatic asylum. The general 
 was no other than the famous Dr. Andrew Moorville, that 
 had the great madhouse at Bangor, and who was in the habit 
 of giving his patients every now and then a kind of country 
 party ; it being one remarkable feature of their malady that 
 when one takes to his peculiar flight, whatever it be, the 
 others immediately take the hint and go off at score. Hence 
 my agreeable adventure : the Bengal tiger being a Liverpool 
 merchant, and the most vivacious madman in England; 
 "while the hour-glass and the Moulah were both on an 
 experimental tour to see whether they should not be pro- 
 nounced totally incurable for life." 
 
 '^ And Isabella ? " inquired Power. 
 
 "Ah, poor Isabella had been driven mad by a card-playing 
 aunt at Bath, and was in fact the most hopeless case there. 
 The last words I heard her speak confirmed my mournful 
 impression of her case, — 
 
 " ' Yes,' said she, as they removed her to her carriage, ' I 
 must, indeed, have but a weak intellect, when I could have 
 taken the nephew of a Manchester cotton-spinner, with a 
 face like a printed calico, for a trump card, and the best in 
 the pack ! ' "■ 
 
 Poor Sparks uttered these last words with a faltering 
 accent, and finishing his glass at one draught withdrew 
 Vv^ithout wishing us good-night.

 
 CHAPTEE XXXIII. 
 
 THE SKIPPER. 
 
 In such like gossipings passed our days away, for our 
 voyage itself had nothing of adventure or incident to break 
 its dull monotony ; save some few hours of calm, we had 
 been steadily following our seaward track with a fair breeze, 
 and the long pennant pointed ever to the land Avhere our 
 ardent expectations were hurrying before it. 
 
 The latest accounts which had reached us from the Penin- 
 sula told that our regiment was almost daily engaged ; and 
 we burned with impatience to share with the others the 
 glory they were reaping. Power, who had seen service, felt 
 less on this score than we who had not " fleshed our maiden 
 swords ; " but even he sometimes gave way, and when the 
 wind fell toward sunset, he would break out into some ex- 
 clamation of discontent, half fearing we should be too late. 
 " For," said he, " if we go on in this way the regiment will 
 be relieved and ordered home before we reach it." 
 
 "Keverfear, my boys, you'll have enough of it. Both 
 sides like the work too well to give in ; they 've got a 
 capital ground and plenty of spare time," said the major. 
 
 " Only to think," cried Power, " that we should be lounging 
 away our idle hours when these gallant fellows are in the 
 saddle late and early. It is too bad ; eh, O'Malley ? You '11 
 not be pleased to go back with the polish on your sabre ? 
 What will Lucy Dashwood say ? " 
 
 This was the first allusion Power had ever made to her, 
 and I became red to the very forehead. 
 
 " By-the-bye," added he, " I have a letter for Hammers- 
 ley, which should rather have been entrusted to your 
 keeping." 
 
 At these words I felt cold as death, while he continued : — 
 
 " Poor fellow ! certainly he is most desperately smitten ; 
 for, mark me, when a man at his age takes the malady, it
 
 268 CHARLES O'^IALLEY. 
 
 is forty times as severe as witli a younger fellow, like you. 
 But then, to be sure, he began at the wrong end in the 
 matter ; why commenoe with papa ? When a man has his 
 own consent for liking a girl, he must»be a contemptible 
 fellow if he can't get her ; and as to anything else being 
 wanting, I don't understand it. But the moment you begin 
 by influencing the heads of the house, good-by to your 
 chances with the dear thing herself, if she have any spirit 
 whatever. It is, in fact, calling on her to surrender with- 
 out the honors of war ; and what girl would stand that ? " 
 
 '* It 's vara true," said the doctor ; " there 's a strong speerit 
 of opposition in the sex, from physiological causes." 
 
 " Curse your physiology, old Galen ; what you call oppo- 
 sition, is that piquant resistance to oppression that makes 
 half the charm of the sex. It is with them — with rever- 
 ence be it spoken — as with horses : the dull, heavy-shoul- 
 dered ones, that bore away with the bit in their teeth, 
 never caring whether you are pulling to the right or to 
 the left, are worth nothing ; the real luxury is in the 
 management of your arching-necked curvetter, springing 
 from side to side with every motion of your wrist, madly 
 bounding at restraint, yet, to the practised hand, held in 
 check with a silk tread. Eh, Skipper, am I not right ? " 
 
 "Well, I can't say I've had much to do with horse-beasts, 
 but I believe you 're not far wrong. The lively craft that 
 answers the helm quick, goes round well in stays, luffs up 
 close within a point or two, when you want her, is always 
 a good sea-boat, even though she pitches and rolls a bit ; 
 but the heavy lugger that never knows whether your helm 
 is up or down, whether she 's off the wind or on it, is only 
 fit for firewood, — you can do nothing with a ship or a 
 woman if she has n't got steerage way on her." 
 
 " Come, Skipper, we 've all been telling our stories ; let 
 us hear one of yours ? " 
 
 " My yarn won't come so well after your sky-scrapers of 
 love and courting and all that. But if 3'ou like to hear what 
 happened to me once, I have no objection to tell you. 
 
 " I often think how little we know what 's going to hap- 
 pen to us any minute of our lives. To-day we have the 
 breeze fair in our favor, we are going seven knots, stud-
 
 THE SKITPER. 269 
 
 ding-sails set, smooth water, and plenty of sea-room ; to- 
 morrow the wind freshens to half a gale, the sea gets up, 
 a rocky coast is seen from the lee bow, and may be — to 
 add to all — we spring a leak forward ; but then, after all, 
 bad as it looks, mayhap, we rub through even this, and 
 with the next day, the prospect is as bright and cheering 
 as ever. You '11 perhaps ask me what has all this moraliz- 
 ing to do with women and ships at sea? Nothing at all 
 with them, except that I was a going to say, that when mat- 
 ters look worst, very often the best is in store for us, and 
 we should never say strike when there is a timber together. 
 Now for my story : — 
 
 " It 's about four years ago, I was strolling one evening 
 down the side of the harbor at Cove, with my hands in my 
 pocket, having nothing to do, nor no prospect of it, for my 
 last ship had been wrecked off the Bermudas, and nearly 
 all the crew lost ; and somehow, when a man is in misfor- 
 tune, the underwriters won't have him at no price. Well, 
 there I was, looking about me at the craft that lay on every 
 side waiting for a fair wind to run down channel. All was 
 active and busy ; every one getting his vessel ship-shape 
 and tidy, — tarring, painting, mending sails, stretching new 
 bunting, and getting in sea-store ; boats were plying on 
 every side, signals flying, guns firing from the men-of-war, 
 and everything was lively as might be, — all but me. There 
 I was, like an old water-logged timber ship, never moving 
 a spar, but looking for all the world as though I were a 
 settling fast to go down stern foremost : may be as how I 
 had no objection to that same ; but that 's neither here nor 
 there. Well, I sat down on the fluke of an anchor, and 
 began a thinking if it was n't better to go before the mast 
 than live on that way. Just before me, where I sat down, 
 there was an old schooner that lay moored in the same 
 place for as long as I could remember. She Avas there when 
 I was a boy, and never looked a bit the fresher nor newer 
 as long as I recollected ; her old bluff bows, her high poop, 
 her round stern, her flush deck, all Dutch-like, I knew 
 them well, and many a time I delighted to think what 
 queer kind of a chap he was that first set her on the 
 stocks, and pondered in what trade she ever could have
 
 270 CHARLES O'JIALLEY. 
 
 been. All the sailors about the port used to call her 
 Noah's Ark, and swear she Avas the identical craft that he 
 stowed away all the wild beasts in during the rainy season. 
 Be that as it might, since I fell into misfortune, I got to 
 feel a liking for the old schooner; she was like an old 
 friend ; she never changed to me, fair weather or foul ; 
 there she was, just the same as thirty years before, when 
 all the world were forgetting and steering wide away from 
 me. Every morning I used to go down to the harbor and 
 have a look at her, just to see that all was right ai^d nothing 
 stirred ; and if it blew very hard at night, I 'd get up and 
 go down to look how she weathered it, just as if I was at 
 sea in her. Now and then I 'd get some of the watermen to 
 row me aboard of her, and leave me there for a few hours ; 
 when I used to be quite ha])py walking the deck, holding 
 the old worm-eaten wheel, looking out ahead, and going 
 down below, just as though I was in command of her. Day 
 after day this habit grew on me, and at last my whole life 
 was spent in watching her and looking after her, — there 
 was something so much alike in our fortunes, that I always 
 thought of her. Like myself, she had had her da}^ of life 
 and activity ; we had both braved the storm and the breeze ; 
 her shattered bulwarks and worn cutwater attested that she 
 had, like myself, not escaped her calamities. We both had 
 survived our dangers, to be neglected and forgotten, and to 
 lie rotting on the stream of life till the crumbling hand of 
 Time should break us up, timber by timber. Is it any won- 
 der if I loved the old craft ; nor if by any chance the idle 
 boys would venture aboard of her to play and amuse them- 
 selves that I hallooed them away; or when a newl}- -arrived 
 ship, not caring for the old boat, would run foul of her, and 
 carry away some spar or piece of running rigging, I would 
 suddenly call out to them to sheer off and not damage us ? 
 By degrees, they came all to notice this ; and I found that 
 they thought me out of my senses, and many a trick was 
 played off upon old Noah, for that was the name the sailors 
 gave me. 
 
 "Well, this evening, as I was saying, I sat upon the fluke 
 of the anchor, waiting for a chance boat to put me aboard. 
 It was past sunset, the tide was ebbing, and the old craft
 
 THE SKIPPER. 271 
 
 was surging to the fast current that ran by with a short, 
 impatient jerk, as though she were well weary, and wished 
 to be at rest ; her loose stays creaked mournfully, and as 
 she yaAved over, the sea ran from many a breach in her 
 worn sides, like blood trickling from a wound. * Ay, ay,' 
 thought I, ' the hour is not far off ; another stiff gale, and 
 all that remains of you will be found high and dry upon 
 the shore.' My heart was very heavy as I thought of this ; 
 for in my loneliness, the old Ark — though that was not 
 her name, as I '11 tell you presently — was all the compan- 
 ion I had. I 've heard of a poor prisoner who, for many 
 and many years, watched a spider that wove his web within 
 his window, and never lost sight of him from morning till 
 night ; and somehow, I can believe it well. The heart will 
 cling to something, and if it has no living object to press 
 to, it will find a lifeless one, — it can no more stand alone 
 than the shrouds can without the mast. The evening wore 
 on, as I was thinking thus ; the moon shone out, but no 
 boat came, and I was just determining to go home again 
 for the night, when I saw two men standing on the steps 
 of the wharf below me, and looking straight at the Ark. 
 Now, I must tell you I always felt uneasy when any one 
 came to look at her ; for I began to fear that some ship- 
 owner or other would buy her to break up, though, except 
 the copper fastenings, there was little of any value about 
 her. Now, the moment I saAV the two figures stop short, 
 and point to her, I said to myself, ' Ah, my old girl, so 
 they won't even let the blue water finish you, but they must 
 set their carpenters and dockyard people to work upon you.' 
 This thought grieved me more and more. Had a stiff sou'- 
 Avester laid her over, I should have felt it more natural, for 
 her sand was run out ; but just as this passed through my 
 mind, I heard a voice from one of the persons, that I at 
 once knew to be the port admiral's : — 
 
 " ' Well, Dawkins,' said he to the other, ' if you think 
 she '11 hold together, I 'm sure I 've no objection. I don't 
 like the job, I confess; but still the Admiralty must be 
 obeyed.' 
 
 " ' Oh, my lord,' said the other, ' she 's the very thing ; 
 she 's a rakish-looking craft, and will do admirabl}'. Any
 
 2i2 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 repair we want, a few days will effect ; secrecy is the great 
 thing.' 
 
 " ' Yes,' said the admiral, after a pause, ' as you observed, 
 secrecy is the great thing.' 
 
 " ' Ho ! ho ! ' thought I, ' there 's something in the wind 
 here ; ' so I laid myself out upon the anchor-stock, to listen 
 better, unobserved. 
 
 " ' We must find a crew for her, give her a few carronades, 
 make her as ship-shape as we can, and if the skipper — ' 
 
 " ' Ay, but there is the real difficulty,' said the admiral, 
 hastily ; ' where are we to find a fellow that will suit us ? 
 We can't every day find a man willing to jeopardize him- 
 self in such a cause as this, even though the reward be a 
 great one.' 
 
 i( ' Very true, my lord ; but I don't think there is any 
 necessity for our explaining to him the exact nature of 
 the service.' 
 
 " ' Come, come, Dawkins, you can't mean that you '11 lead 
 a poor fellow into such a scrape blindfolded ? ' 
 
 " ' Why, my lord, you never think it requisite to give 
 a plan of your cruise to yovir ship's crew before clearing 
 out of harbor.' 
 
 " ' This may be perfectly just, but I don't like it,' said 
 the admiral. 
 
 " ' In that case, my lord, you are imparting the secrets 
 of the Admiralty to a party who may betray the whole 
 plot.' 
 
 " ' I wish, with all my soul, they 'd given the order to 
 any one else,' said the admiral, with a sigh ; and for a few 
 moments neither spoke a word. 
 
 " ' Well, then, Dawkins, I believe there is nothing for it 
 but what you say; meanwhile, let the repairs be got in 
 hand, and see after a crew.' 
 
 " ' Oh, as to that,' said the other, ' there are plenty of 
 scoundrels in the fleet here fit for nothing else. Any 
 fellow who has been thrice up for punishment in six 
 months, we '11 draft on board of her ; the fellows who have 
 only been once to the gangway, we '11 make the officers.' 
 
 " ' A pleasant ship's company,' thought I, * if the Devil 
 would only take the command.'
 
 THE SKITPER. 273 
 
 " ' And with a skipper proportionate to their merit/ said 
 Dawkins. 
 
 " ' Begad, I '11 wish the French joy of them,' said the 
 admiral. 
 
 " ' Ho, ho ! ' thonght I, ' I 've found you out at last ; so 
 this is a secret expedition. I see it all ; they 're fitting her 
 out as a fire-ship, and going to send her slap m among 
 the French fleet at Brest. Well,' thought I, * even that 's 
 better; that, at least, is a glorious end, though the poor 
 fellows have no chance of escape.' 
 
 " ' Now, then,' said the admiral, * to-morrow you '11 look 
 out for the fellow to take the command. He must be a 
 smart seaman, a bold fellow, too, otherwise the ruffianly 
 crew will be too much for him ; he may bid high, we '11 
 come to his price.' 
 
 " 'So you may,' thought I, 'when you're buying his life.' 
 
 " ' I hope sincerely,' continued the admiral, ' that we may 
 light upon some one without wife or child ; I never could 
 forgive myself — ' 
 
 "'Never fear, my lord,' said the other; 'my care shall 
 be to pitch upon one whose loss no one would feel ; some 
 one without friend or home, Avho, setting his life for nought, 
 cares less for the gain than the very recklessness of the 
 adventure.' 
 
 " ' That 's me,' said I, springing up from the anchor-stock, 
 and springing between them ; ' I 'm that man.' 
 
 " Had the very Devil himself appeared at the moment, 
 I doubt if they would have been more scared. The admiral 
 started a pace or two backwards, while Dawkins, the first 
 surprise over, seized me by the collar, and held me fast. 
 
 " ' Who are you, scoundrel, and what brings you here ? ' 
 said he, in a voice hoarse with passion. 
 
 " ' I 'm old Noah,' said I ; for somehow, I had been called 
 by no other name for so long, I never thought of my real 
 one. 
 
 " ' Noah ! ' said the admiral, — 'Noah ! Well, but Noah, 
 what were you doing here at this time of night ? ' 
 
 " ' I was a watching the Ark, my lord,' said I, bowing, as 
 I took off my hat. 
 
 " ' I 've heard of this fellow before, my lord,' said Daw- 
 
 VOL. I. — 18
 
 274 CHARLES O'JIALLEY. 
 
 kins ; ' he 's a poor lunatic that is always wandering about 
 the harbor, and, I believe, has no harm in him.' 
 
 " ' Yes, but he has been listening, doubtless, to our con- 
 versation,' said the admiral. ' Eh, have you heard all we 
 have been saying ? ' 
 
 " ' Every word of it, my lord.' 
 
 " At this the admiral and Dawkins looked steadfastly 
 at each other for some minutes, but neither spoke ; at last 
 Dawkins said, ' Well, Noah, I 've been told yon are a man 
 to be depended on ; may we rely upon your not repeating 
 anything you overheard this evening, — at least, for a year 
 to come ? ' 
 
 " ' You may,' said I. 
 
 "'But, Dawkins,' said the admiral, in a half- whisper, 'if 
 the poor fellow be mad ? ' 
 
 " ' My lord,' said I, boldly, ' I am not mad. Misfortune 
 and calamity I have had enough of to make me so ; but, 
 thank God, my brain has been tougher than my poor heart. 
 I was once the part-owner and commander of a goodly craft, 
 that swept the sea, if not with a broad pennon at her mast- 
 head, with as light a spirit as ever lived beneath one. I was 
 rich, I had a home and a child ; I am now poor, houseless, 
 childless, friendless, and an outcast. If in my solitary 
 wretchedness I have loved to look upon that old bark, it is 
 because its fortune seemed like my own. It had outlived 
 all that needed or cared for it. For this reason have they 
 thought me mad, though there are those, and not few either, 
 who can well bear testimony if stain or reproach lie at my 
 door, and if I can be reproached with aught save bad luck. 
 I have heard by chance what you have said this night. I 
 know that you are fitting out a secret expedition ; I know 
 its dangers, its inevitable dangers, and I here offer myself 
 to lead it. I ask no reward; I look for no price. Alas, 
 Avho is left to me for Avhom I could labor now ? Give me 
 but the opportunity to end my days with honor on board the 
 old craft, Avhere my heart still clings ; give me but that. 
 Well, if you will not do so much, let me serve among the 
 crew ; put me before the mast. My lord, you '11 not refuse 
 this. It is an old man asks; one whose gray hairs have 
 floated many a year ago before the breeze.'
 
 THE SKIPPER 275 
 
 " ' My poor fellow, you know not what you ask ; this is no 
 common case of danger.' 
 
 '* ' I know it all, my lord ; I have heard it all.' 
 " ' Dawkins, what is to be done here ? ' inquired the 
 admiral. 
 
 " ' I say, friend/ inquired Dawkins, laying his hand upon 
 my arm, ' what is your real name ? Are you he who com- 
 manded the " Dwarf " privateer in the Isle of France ? ' 
 '' ' The same/' 
 
 " ' Then you are known to Lord Collingwood ? ' 
 " ' He knows me well, and can speak to my character.' 
 " 'What he says of himself is all true, my lord.' 
 " ' True,' said I, ' true ! You did not doubt it, did you ? ' 
 " 'We,' said the admiral, ' must speak together again. Be 
 here to-morrow night at this hour ; keep your own counsel of 
 what has passed, and now good-night.' So saying, the ad- 
 miral took Dawkins by the arm and returned slowly towards 
 the town, leaving me where I stood, meditating on this 
 singular meeting and its possible consequences. 
 
 " The whole of the following day was passed by me in a 
 state of feverish excitement which I cannot describe ; this 
 strange adventure breaking in so suddenly upon the dull 
 monotony of my daily existence had so aroused and stimu- 
 lated me that I could neither rest nor eat. How I longed 
 for night to come ; for sometimes, as the day wore later, I 
 began to fear that the whole scene of my meeting with the 
 admiral had been merely some excited dream of a tortured 
 and fretted mind ; and as I stood examining the ground 
 where I believed the interview to have occurred, I en- 
 deavored to recall the position of different objects as they 
 stood around, to corroborate my own failing remembrance. 
 
 '' At last the evening closed in ; but unlike the preceding 
 one, the sky was covered with masses of dark and watery 
 cloud that drifted hurriedly across ; the air felt heavy and 
 thick, and unnaturally still and calm ; the water of the har- 
 bor looked of a dull, leaden hue, and all the vessels seemed 
 larger than they were, and stood out from the landscape 
 more clearly than usual ; now and then a low rumbling noise 
 was heard, somewhat alike in sound, but far too faint for 
 distant thunder, while occasionally the boats and smaller
 
 276 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 craft rocked to and fro, as though some ground swell stirred 
 them without breaking the languid surface of the sea above. 
 
 "A few drops of thick, heavy rain fell just as the dark- 
 ness came on, and then all felt still and calm as before. I 
 sat upon the anchor-stock, my eyes fixed upon the old Ark, 
 until gradually her outline grew fainter and fainter against 
 the dark sky, and her black hull could scarcely be distin- 
 guished from the water beneath. I felt that I was looking 
 towards her ; for long after I had lost sight of the tall mast 
 and high-pitched bowsprit, I feared to turn away my head 
 lest I should lose the place where she lay. 
 
 " The time went slowly on, and although in reality I had 
 not been long there, I felt as if years themselves had passed 
 over my head. Since I had come there my mind brooded 
 over all the misfortunes of my life ; as I contrasted its 
 outset, briglit with hope and rich in promise, with the sad 
 reality, my heart grew heavy and my chest heaved pain- 
 fully. So sunk was I in my reflections, so lost in thouglit, 
 that I never knew that the storm had broken loose, and that 
 the heavy rain was falling m torrents. The very ground, 
 parched with long drought, smoked as it pattered upon it ; 
 while the low, wailing cry of the sea-gull, mingled with the 
 deep growl of far-off thunder, told that the night was a fear- 
 ful one for those at sea. Wet through and sliivering, I sat 
 still, now listening amidst the noise of the hurricane and tlie 
 creaking of the cordage for any footstep to approach, and 
 noAv relapsing back into half-despairing dread that my 
 heated brain alone had conjured up the scene of the day 
 before. Such were my dreary reflections when a loud crash 
 aboard the schooner told me that some old spar had given 
 way. I strained my eyes through the dark to see what had 
 happened, but in vain ; the black vapor, thick with falling 
 rain, obscured everything, and all was hid from view. I 
 could hear that she Avorked violently as the waves beat 
 against her worn sides, and that her iron cable creaked as 
 she pitched to the breaking sea. The wind was momentarily 
 increasing, and I began to fear lest I should have taken my 
 last look at the old craft, when my attention was called off 
 by hearing a loud voice cry out, ' Halloo there ! Where are 
 you ? '
 
 THE SKIPPER. 2<t 
 
 "'Ay, ay, sir, I'm here.' In a moment the admiral and 
 his friend were beside me. 
 
 r « < What a night ! ' exclaimed the admiral, as he shook the 
 rain from the heavy boat-cloak and cowered in beneath some 
 tall blocks of granite near. ' I began half to hope that you 
 might not have been here, my poor fellow,' said the admiral ; 
 ' it 's a dreadful time for one so poorly clad for a storm. I 
 say, Dawkins, let him have a pull at your flask.' The 
 brandy rallied me a little, and I felt that it cheered my 
 drooping courage. 
 
 " ' This is not a time nor is it a place for much parley,' 
 said the admiral, ' so that we must even make short work of 
 it. Since we met here last night I have satisfied myself 
 that you are to be trusted, that your character and reputar 
 tion have nothing heavier against them than misfortune, 
 which certainly, if I have been rightly informed, has been 
 largely dealt out to you. Now, then, I am willing to accept 
 of your offer of service if you are still of the same mind as 
 when you made it, and if you are willing to undertake what 
 we have to do without any question and inquiry as to points 
 on which we must not and dare not inform you. Whatever 
 you may have overheard last night may or may not have 
 put you in possession of our secret. If the former, your 
 determination can be made at once ; if the latter, you have 
 only to decide whether you are ready to go blindfolded in 
 the business.' 
 
 " ' I am ready, my lord,' said I. 
 
 " ' You perhaps are then a^vare what is the nature of the 
 service ? ' 
 
 " ' I know it not,' said I. ' All that I heard, sir, leads me 
 to suppose it one of danger, but that 's all.' 
 
 " ' I think, my lord,' said Dawkins, ' that no more need 
 now be said. Cupples is ready to engage, we are equally so 
 to accept ; the thing is pressing. When can you sail ? ' 
 
 " ' To-night,' said I, ' if you will.' 
 
 " ' Eeally, Dawkins,' said the admiral, * I don't see why — ' 
 
 "'jNly lord, I beg of you,' said the other, interrupting, 
 'let me now complete the arrangement. This is the plan,' 
 said he, turning towards me as he spoke : ' As soon as that 
 old craft can be got ready for sea, or some other if she be
 
 278 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 not worth it, you will sail from tliis port with a strong 
 crew, well armed and supplied with ammunition. Your 
 destination is Malta, your object to deliver to the admiral 
 stationed there the despatches with which you will be en- 
 trusted ; they contain information of immense importance, 
 which for certain reasons cannot be sent through a ship of 
 war, but must be forwarded by a vessel that may not attract 
 peculiar notice. If you be attacked, your orders are to resist ; 
 if you be taken, on no account destroy the papers, for the 
 French vessel can scarcely escape capture from our frigates, 
 and it is of great consequence these papers should remain. 
 Such is a brief sketch of our plan ; the details can be made 
 known to you hereafter.' 
 
 " ' I am quite ready, my lord. I ask for no terms ; I make 
 no stipulations. If the result be favorable it will be time 
 enough to speak of that. When am I to sail ? ' 
 
 " As I spoke, the admiral turned suddenly round and said 
 something in a whisper to Dawkins, who appeared to over- 
 rule it, whatever it might be, and finally brought him over 
 to his own opinion. 
 
 '"Come, Cupples,' said Dawkins, 'the affair is now set- 
 tled ; to-morrow a boat will be in waiting for you opposite 
 Spike Island to convey you on board the " Semiramis," where 
 every step in the whole business shall be explained to you ; 
 meanwhile you have only to keep your own counsel and 
 trust the secret to no one.' 
 
 " ' Yes, Cupples,' said the admiral, ' we rely upon you for 
 that, so good-night.' As he spoke he placed within my 
 hands a crumpled note for ten pounds, and squeezing my 
 fingers, departed. 
 
 " My yarn is spinning out to a far greater length than I 
 intended, so I '11 try and shorten it a bit. The next day I 
 went aboard the ' Semiramis,' where, when I appeared upon 
 the quarter-deck, I found myself an object of some interest. 
 The report that I was the man about to command the 'Brian,'' 
 — that was the real name of the old craft, — had caused 
 some curiosity among the officers, and they all spoke to me 
 with great courtesy. After waiting a short time I was or- 
 dered to go below, where the admiral, his flag-captain, Daw- 
 kins, and the others were seated. They repeated at greater
 
 THE SIOPPER. ^<i> 
 
 length the conversation of the night before, and finally 
 decided that I was to sail in three weeks ; for although the 
 old schooner was sadly damaged, they had lost no time, but 
 had her already high in dock, with two hundred ship-car- 
 penters at work upon her. 
 
 " I do not shorten sail here to tell you what reports were 
 circulated about Cove as to my extraordinaiy change in cir- 
 cumstances, nor how I bore my altered fortunes. It is 
 enough if I say that in less than three weeks I weighed 
 anchor and stood out to sea one beautiful morning in autumn, 
 and set out upon my expedition. 
 
 " I have already told you something of the craft. Let me 
 complete the picture by informing you that before twenty- 
 four hours passed over I discovered that so ungainly, so 
 awkward, so unmanageable a vessel never put to sea. In 
 light winds she scarcely stirred or moved, as if she were 
 waterlogged ; if it came to blow upon the quarter, she fell 
 off from her helm at a fearful rate ; in wearing, she endan- 
 gered every spar she had ; and when you put her in stays, 
 when half round she would fall back and nearly carry away 
 every stitch of canvas with the shock. If the ship was bad, 
 the crew was ten times worse. What Dawkins said turned 
 out to be literally true. Every ill-conducted, disorderly 
 fellow who had been up the gangway once a week or so, 
 every unreclaimed landsman of bad character and no sea- 
 manship, was sent on board of us : and in fact, except that 
 there was scarcely any discipline and no restraint, we ap- 
 peared like a floating penitentiary of convicted felons. 
 
 So long as we ran down channel with a slack sea and fair 
 wind, so long all went on tolerably well ; to be sure they 
 only kept watch when they were tired below, when they 
 came up, reeled about the deck, did all just as they pleased, 
 and treated me with no manner of respect. After some vain 
 efforts to repress their excesses, — vain, for I had but one 
 to second me, — I appeared to take no notice of their mis- 
 conduct, and contented myself with waiting for the time 
 when, my dreary voyage over, I should quit the command 
 and part company with such associates forever. At last, 
 however, it came on to blow, and the night we passed the 
 Lizard was indeed a fearful one. As morning broke, a sea
 
 280 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 running mountains higli, a wind strong from the northwest, 
 was hurrying the old craft along at a rate I believed impos- 
 sible. I shall not stop to recount the frightful scenes of 
 anarchy, confusion, drunkenness, and insubordination which 
 our crew exhibited, — the recollection is too bad already, 
 and I would spare you and myself the recital ; but on the 
 fourtli day from the setting in of the gale, as we entered the 
 Bay of Biscay, some one aloft descried a strange sail to 
 windward bearing down as if in pursuit of us. Scarcely 
 did the news reach the deck when, bad as it was before, 
 matters became now ten times worse, some resolving to give 
 themselves up if the chase happened to be French, and vow- 
 ing that before surrendering the spirit-room should be 
 forced, and every man let drink as he pleased. Others 
 proposed if there were anything like equality in the force, 
 to attack, and convert the captured vessel, if they succeeded, 
 into a slaver, and sail at once for Africa. Some were for 
 blowing up the old 'Brian' with all on board; and in fact 
 every counsel that drunkenness, insanity, and crime com- 
 bined could suggest was offered and descanted on. Mean- 
 while the chase gained rapidly upon us, and before noon we 
 discovered her to be a French letter-of-marque with four 
 guns and a long brass swivel upon the poop deck. As for 
 us, every sheet of canvas we could crowd was crammed on, 
 but in vain. And as we labored through the heavy sea, our 
 riotous crew grew every moment worse, and sitting down 
 sulkily in groups upon the deck, declared that, come what 
 miglit, they would neither work the ship nor light her ; that 
 they had been sent to sea in a rotten craft merely to effect 
 their destruction ; and that they cared little for the disgrace 
 of a flag they detested. Half furious with the taunting sar- 
 casm I heard on every side, and nearly mad from passion, 
 and bewildered, my first impulse was to run among them 
 with my drawn cutlass, and ere I fell their victim, take 
 heavy vengeance upon the ringleaders, when suddenly a 
 sliarp booming noise came thundering along, and a round 
 shot went flying over our heads. 
 
 " ' Down with the ensign ; strike at once ! ' cried eight or 
 ten voices together, as the ball whizzed through the rigging. 
 Anticipating this, and resolving, whatever might happen,
 
 THE SKIPPER. 281 
 
 to fight her to the last, I had made the mate, a stanch- 
 hearted, resolute fellow, to make fast the signal sailyard 
 aloft, so that it was impossible for any one on deck to 
 lower the bunting. Bang ! went another gun ; and before 
 the smoke cleared away, a third, which, truer in its aim than 
 the rest, went clean through the lower part of our mainsail. 
 
 " ' Steady, then, boys, and clear for action,' said the mate. 
 ' She 's a French smuggling craft that will sheer off when we 
 show fight, so that we must not fire a shot till she comes 
 alongside.' 
 
 " ' And harkee, lads,' said I, taking up the tone of encour- 
 agement he spoke with, ' if we take her, I promise to claim 
 nothing of the prize. Whatever we capture you shall divide 
 among yourselves.' 
 
 " 'It 's very easy to divide what we never had,' said one ; 
 ' Nearly as easy as to give it,' cried another ; ' I '11 never 
 light match or draw cutlass in the cause,' said a third. 
 
 " ' Surrender ! ' ' Strike the flag ! ' ' Down with the colors ! ' 
 roared several voices together. 
 
 "By this time the Frenchman was close up, and ranging 
 his long gun to sweep our decks ; his crew were quite per- 
 ceptible, — about twenty bronzed, stout-looking fellows, 
 stripped to the waist, and carrying pistols in broad flat 
 belts slung over the shoulder. 
 
 " ' Come, my lads,' said I, raising my voice, as I drew a 
 pistol from my side and cocked it, ' our time is short now ; 
 I may as well tell you that the first shot that strikes us 
 amidship blows up the whole craft and every man on board. 
 We are nothing less than a fireship, destined for Brest har- 
 bor to blow up the French fleet. If you are willing to make 
 an effort for your lives, follow me ! ' 
 
 " The men looked aghast. Whatever recklessness crime 
 and drunkenness had given them, the awful feeling of in- 
 evitable death at once repelled. Short as was the time for 
 reflection, they felt that there were many circumstances to 
 encourage the assertion, — the nature of the vessel, her riot- 
 ous, disorderly crew, the secret nature of the service, all 
 confirmed it, — and they answered with a shout of despairing 
 vengeance, ' We '11 board her ; lead us on ! ' As the cry rose 
 up, the long swivel from the chase rang sharply in our ears.
 
 2S2 CHARLES O'M.VLLEY. 
 
 and a tremendous discharge of grape flew through our 
 rigging. None of our men, however, fell ; and animated 
 now with the desire for battle, they sprang to the binnacle, 
 and seized their arms. 
 
 " In an instant the whole deck became a scene of excited 
 bustle ; and scarcely was the ammunition dealt out, and the 
 boarding party drawn up, when the Frenchman broached to 
 and lashed his bowsprit to our own. 
 
 " One terrific yell burst from our fellows as they sprang 
 from the rigging and the poop upon the astonished French- 
 men, who thought that the victory was already their own ; 
 with death and ruin behind, their only hope before, they 
 dashed forward like madmen to the fray. 
 
 " The conflict was bloody and terrific, though not a long 
 one. Nearly equal in number, but far superior in personal 
 strength, and stimulated by their sense of danger, our fel- 
 lows rushed onward, carrying all before them to the quarter- 
 deck. Here the Frenchmen rallied, and for some minutes 
 had rather the advantage, until the mate, turning one of 
 their guns against them, prepared to sweep them down in a 
 mass. Then it was that they ceased their fire and cried out 
 for quarter, — all save their captain, a short, thick-set fel- 
 low, with a grizzly beard and mustache, who, seeing his 
 men fall back, turned on them one glance of scowling indig- 
 nation, and rushing forward, clove our boatswain to the 
 deck with one blow. Before the example could have been 
 followed, he lay a bloody corpse upon the deck ; while our 
 people, roused to madness by the loss of a favorite among 
 the men, dashed impetuously forward, and dealing death 
 on every side, left not one man living among their unresist- 
 ing enemies. My story is soon told now. We brought our 
 prize safe into Malta, which we reached in five days. In 
 less than a week our men were drafted into different men- 
 of-war on the station. I was appointed a warrant officer in 
 the ' Sheerwater,' forty-four guns ; and as the admiral 
 opened the despatch, the only words he spoke puzzled me 
 for many a day after. 
 
 " ' You have accomplished your orders too well,' said he ; 
 'that privateer is but a poor compensation for the whole 
 French navy.' "
 
 THE SKIPPER.. 283 
 
 "Well," inquired Power, ''and did you never hear the 
 meaning of the words ? " 
 
 " Yes," said he ; " many years after I found out that our 
 despatches were false ones, intended to have fallen into the 
 hands of the French and mislead them as to Lord Nelson's 
 fleet, which at that time was cruising to the southward 
 to catch them. This, of course, explained what fate was 
 destined for us, — a French prison, if not deatli ; and after 
 all, either was fully good enough for the crew that sailed in 
 the old ' Brian.' "
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE LAND. 
 
 It was late wheu we separated for the night, and the 
 morning was already far advanced ere I awoke ; the mo- 
 notonous tramp overhead showed me that the others were 
 stirring, and I gently moved the shutter of the narrow 
 window beside me to look out. 
 
 The sea, slightly rippled upon its surface, shone like a 
 plate of fretted gold, — not a wave, not a breaker appeared ; 
 but the rushing sound close by showed that we were moving 
 fast through the water. 
 
 " Always calm hereabouts," said a gruff voice on deck, 
 which I soon recognized as the skipper's ; " no sea 
 whatever." 
 
 " I can make nothing of it," cried out Power, from the 
 forepart of the vessel. " It appears to me all cloud." 
 
 " No, no, sir, believe me ; it 's no fog-bank, that large dark 
 mass to leeward there, — that 's Cintra." 
 
 " Land ! " cried I, springing up, and rushing upon deck ; 
 " where. Skipper, — where is the land ? " 
 
 "I say, Charley," said Power, "I hope you mean to adopt 
 a little more clothing on reaching Lisbon ; for though the 
 climate is a warm one — " 
 
 ''Never mind, O'^Ialley," said the major, "the Portuguese 
 will only be flattered by the attention, if you land as you 
 are." 
 
 "Why, how so?" 
 
 " Surely, you remember what the niggers said when they 
 saw the 79th Highlanders landing at St. Lucie. They had 
 never seen a Scotch regiment before, and were consequently 
 somewhat puzzled at the costume ; till at last, one more cun- 
 ning than the rest explained it by saying : ' They are in such 
 a hurry to kill the poor black men that they came away 
 without their breeches.' "
 
 THE LAXD. 285 
 
 "Now, what say you ?" cried the skipper, as he pointed 
 with his telescope to a dark-blue mass in the distance ; " see 
 there ! " 
 
 "Ah, true enough ; that 's Cintra ! " 
 
 "Then we shall probably be in the Tagus Kiver before 
 morning ? " 
 
 "Before midnight, if the wind holds," said the skipper. 
 
 We breakfasted on deck beneath an awning. The vessel 
 scarcely seemed to move as she cut her way through the 
 calm water. 
 
 The misty outline of the coast grew gradually more 
 defined, and at length the blue mountains could be seen ; 
 at first but dimly, but as the day wore on, their many- 
 colored hues shone forth, and patches of green verdure, 
 dotted with sheep or sheltered by dark foliage, met the 
 eye. The bulwarks were crowded with anxious faces ; each 
 looked pointedly towards the shore, and many a stout heart 
 beat high, as the land drew near, fated to cover with its 
 earth more than one among us. 
 
 "And that's Portingale, Mister Charles," said a voice 
 behind me. I turned and saw my man Mike, as with anx- 
 ious joy, he fixed his eyes upon the shore. 
 
 " They tell me it 's a beautiful place, with wine for nothing 
 and spirits for less. Is n't it a pity they won't be raisonable 
 and make peace with us ? " 
 
 " Why, my good fellow, we are excellent friends ; it 's the 
 French who want to beat us all." 
 
 " Upon my conscience, that 's not right. There 's an ould 
 saying in Connaught, ' It 's not fair for one to fall upon 
 twenty.' Sergeant Haggarty says that I '11 see none of the 
 divarsion at all." 
 
 " I don't well understand — " 
 
 " He does be telling me that, as I 'm onlj^ your f ootboy, 
 he '11 send me away to the rear, where there 's nothing but 
 wounded and wagons and women." 
 
 " I believe the sergeant is right there ; but after all, 
 Mike, it 's a safe place." 
 
 "Ah, then, musha for the safety! I don't think much 
 of it. Sure, they might circumvint us. And av it was n't 
 displazing to you, I 'd rather list."
 
 286 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 *^ Well, I 've no objection, Mickey. Would you like to 
 join my regiment ? " 
 
 " By coorse, your honor. I 'd like to be near yourself ; 
 bekase, too, if anything happens to you, — the Lord be betune 
 us and harm," here he crossed himself piously, — " sure, 
 I 'd like to be able to tell the master how you died ; and 
 sure, there 's Mr. Considine — God pardon him ! He '11 be 
 beating my brains out av I could n't explain it all." 
 
 " Well, Mike, I '11 speak to some of my friends here about 
 you, and we '11 settle it all properly. Here 's the doctor." 
 
 " Arrah, Mr. Charles, don't mind him. He 's a poor 
 crayture entirely. Devil a thing he knows." 
 
 " Why, what do you mean, man ? He 's physician to the 
 forces." 
 
 " Oh, be-gorra, and so he may be ! " said Mike, with a 
 toss of his head. " Those army docthers is n't worth their 
 salt. It 's thruth I 'm telling you. Sure, did n't he come 
 to see me when I was sick below in the hould ? 
 
 " ' How do you feel ? ' says he. 
 
 " * Terribly dliry in the mouth,' says I. 
 
 " ' But your bones,' says he ; ' how 's them ? ' 
 
 " 'As if cripples was kicking me,' says i. 
 
 "Well, with that he wint away, and brought back two 
 powders. 
 
 " ' Take them,' says he, ' and you '11 be cured in no time.' 
 
 " ' What 's them ? ' says I. 
 
 " ' They 're ematics,' says he. 
 
 " 'Blood and ages ! ' says I, 'are they ? ' 
 
 " 'Devil a lie,' says he ; 'take them immediately.' 
 
 " And I tuk them ; and would you believe me. Mister 
 Charles ? — it 's thruth I 'm telling you, — devil a one o' 
 them would stay on ray stomach. So you see what a doc- 
 ther he is ! " 
 
 I could not help smiling at Mike's ideas of medicine, as I 
 turned away to talk to the major, who was busily engaged 
 beside me. His occupation consisted in furbishing up a 
 very tarnished and faded uniform, whose white seams and 
 threadbare lace betokened many years of service. 
 
 " Getting up our traps, you see, O'Malley," said he, as he 
 looked Avith no small pride at the faded glories of his old
 
 THE LAXD. 2S7 
 
 vestment. "Astonish them at Lisbon, we flatter ourselves. 
 I say, Power, what a bad style of dress they 've got into 
 latterly, with their tight waist and strapped trousers ; no- 
 thing free, nothing easy, nothing degage about it. When in 
 a campaign, a man ought to be able to stow prog for twenty- 
 four hours about his person, and no one the Aviser. A very 
 good rule, I assure you, though it sometimes leads to awk- 
 ward results. At Vimeira, I got into a sad scrape that way. 
 Old Sir Harry, that commanded there, sent for the sick 
 return. I was at dinner when the orderly came, so I packed 
 up the eatables about me, and rode off. Just, however, as I 
 came up to the quarters, my horse stumbled and threw me 
 slap on my head. 
 
 " ' Is he killed ? ' said Sir Harry. 
 
 " ' Only stunned, your Excellency,' said some one. 
 
 " ' Then he '11 come to, I suppose. Look for the papers 
 in his pocket.' 
 
 " So they turned me on my back, and plunged a hand into 
 my side-pocket ; but, the devil take it ! they pulled out a 
 roast hen. Well, the laugh was scarcely over at this, when 
 another fellow dived into my coat behind, and lugged out 
 three sausages ; and so they went on, till the ground was 
 covered with ham, pigeon-pie, veal, kidney, and potatoes ; 
 and the only thing like a paper was a mess-roll of the 4th, 
 with a droll song about Sir Harry written in pencil on the 
 back of it. Devil of a bad affair for me ! I was nearly 
 broke for it ; but they only reprimanded me a little, and I 
 was afterwards attached to the victualling department." 
 
 What an anxious thing is the last day of a voyage ! How 
 slowly creep the hours, teeming with memories of the past 
 and expectations of the future ! 
 
 Every plan, every well-devised expedient to cheat the 
 long and weary days is at once abandoned ; the chess-board 
 and the new novel are alike forgotten, and the very quarter- 
 deck walk, with its merry gossip and careless chit-chat, be- 
 comes distasteful. One blue and misty mountain, one faint 
 outline of the far-off shore, has dispelled all thought of 
 these ; and with straining eye and anxious heart, we watch 
 for land. 
 
 As the day wears on apace, the excitement increases ; the
 
 288 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 faint and shadowy forms of distant objects grow gradually 
 clearer. Where before some tall and misty mountain peak 
 was seen, we now descry patches of deepest blue and som- 
 bre olive ; the mellow corn and the waving woods, the vil- 
 lage spire and the lowly cot, come out of the landscape ; 
 and like some well-remembered voice, they speak of home. 
 The objects we have seen, the sounds we have heard a hun- 
 dred times before without interest, become to us now things 
 that stir the heart. 
 
 For a time the Inight glare of the noonday sun dazzles 
 the view and renders indistinct the ])rospect ; but as even- 
 ing falls, once more is all fair and bright and rich before us. 
 Eocked by the long and rolling swell, I lay beside the bow- 
 sprit, watching the shore-birds that came to rest upon the 
 rigging, or following some long and tangled seaweed as it 
 floated by ; my thoughts now wandering back to the brown 
 hills and the broad river of my early home, now straying off 
 in dreary fancies of the future. 
 
 How flat and unprofitable does all ambition seem at such 
 moments as these ; how valueless, how poor, in our estima- 
 tion, those worldly distinctions we have so often longed and 
 thirsted for, as with lowly heart and simple spirit we watch 
 each humble cottage, weaving to ourselves some story of its 
 inmates as we pass ! 
 
 The night at length closed in, but it was a bright and 
 starry one, lending to the landscape a hue of sombre shadow, 
 while the outlines of the objects were still sharp and distinct 
 as before. One solitary star twinkled near the horizon. I 
 watched it as, at intervals disappearing, it would again 
 shine out, marking the calm sea with a tall pillar of light. 
 
 "Come down, Mr. O'Malley," cried the skipper's well- 
 known voice, — "come down below and join us in a parting 
 glass ; that 's the Lisbon light to leeward, and before two 
 hours we drop our anchor in the Tagus."
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 MAJOR MONSOON. 
 
 Of my travelling companions I have already told my 
 readers something. Power is now an old acquaintance ; to 
 Sparks I have already presented them ; of the adjutant they 
 are not entirely ignorant ; and it therefore only remains for 
 me to introduce to their notice Major Monsoon. I should 
 have some scruple for the digression which this occasions 
 in my narrative, were it not that with the worthy major 
 I was destined to meet subsequently ; and indeed served 
 under his orders for some months in the Peninsula. When 
 Major ^lonsoon had entered the army or in what precise 
 capacity, I never yet met the man who could tell. There 
 were traditionary accounts of his having served in the East 
 Indies and in Canada in times long past. His own peculiar 
 reminiscences extended to nearly every regiment in the ser- 
 vice, "horse, foot, and dragoons." There was not a clime he 
 had not basked in ; not an engagement he had not witnessed. 
 His memory, or, if you will, his invention, was never at 
 fault ; and from the siege of Seringapatam to the battle 
 of Corunna he was perfect. Besides this, he possessed a 
 mind retentive of even the most trifling details of his pro- 
 fession, — from the formation of a regiment to the introduc- 
 tion of a new button, from the laying down of a parallel to 
 the price of a camp-kettle, he knew it all. To be sure, he 
 had served in the commissary-general's department for a 
 number of years, and nothing instils such habits as this. 
 
 "The commissaries are to the army what the special 
 pleaders are te the bar," observed my friend Power, — "dry 
 dogs, not over creditable on the whole, bu.t devilish useful." 
 
 The major had begun life a two-bottle man ; but by a 
 studious cultivation of his natural gifts, and a steady deter- 
 mination to succeed, he had, at the time I knew him, attained 
 to his fifth. It need not be wondered at, then, that hia 
 
 VOL. I. — 19
 
 290 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 countenance bore some traces of his habits. It was of a 
 deep sunset-purple, which, becoming tropical, at the tip of 
 the nose verged almost upon a plum-color ; his mouth was 
 large, thick-lipped, and good-humored ; his voice rich, mel- 
 low, and racy, and contributed, with the aid of a certain dry, 
 chuckling laugh, greatly to increase the effect of the stories 
 which he was ever ready to recount ; and as they most fre- 
 quently bore in some degree against some of what he called 
 his little failings, they were ever well received, no man 
 being so popular with the world as he who flatters its 
 vanity at his own expense. To do this the major was 
 ever ready, but at no time more so than when the evening 
 wore late, and the last bottle of his series seemed to imply 
 that any caution regarding the nature of his communication 
 was perfectly unnecessary. Indeed, from the commence- 
 ment of his evening to the close, he seemed to pass through 
 a number of mental changes, all in a manner preparing him 
 for this final consummation, when he confessed anything 
 and everything ; and so well regulated had these stages 
 become, that a friend droj)ping in upon him suddenly could 
 at once pronounce from the tone of his conversation on 
 what precise bottle the major was then engaged. 
 
 Thus, in the outset he was gastronomic, — discussed the 
 dinner from the soup to the Stilton ; criticised the cutlets ; 
 pronounced upon the merits of the mutton ; and threw out 
 certain vague hints that he would one day astonish the 
 world by a little volume upon cookery. 
 
 With bottle No. 2 he took leave of the cuisine, and opened 
 his battery upon the wine. Bordeaux, Burgundy, hock, and 
 hermitage, all passed in review before him, — their flavor 
 discussed, their treatment descanted upon, their virtues 
 extolled ; from humble port to imperial tokay, he was 
 thorovighly conversant with all, and not a vintage escaped 
 as to when the sun had suffered eclipse, or when a comet 
 had wagged his tail over it. 
 
 With No. 3 he became pipeclay, — talked army list and 
 eighteen manoeuvres, lamented the various changes in equip- 
 ments which modern innovation had introduced, and feared 
 the loss of pigtails might sap the militaiy spirit of the 
 nation.
 
 MAJOR MONSOON. 291 
 
 With Xo. 4 his anecdotic powers came into play, — he re- 
 counted various incidents of the war with his own individual 
 adventures and experience, told with an honest naivete that 
 proved personal vanity ; indeed, self-respect never marred 
 the interest of the narrative, besides, as he had ever re- 
 garded a campaign something in the light of a foray, and 
 esteemed war as little else than a pillage excursion, his 
 sentiments were singularly amusing. 
 
 With his last bottle, those feelings that seemed inevitably 
 connected with whatever is last appeared to steal over him, 
 — a tinge of sadness for pleasures fast passing and nearly 
 passed, a kind of retrospective glance at the fallacy of all 
 our earthly enjoyments, insensibly suggesting moral and 
 edifying reflections, led him by degrees to confess that he 
 was not quite satisfied with himself, though " not very bad 
 for a commissary ; " and finally, as the decanter waxed low, 
 he would interlard his meditations by passages of Scripture, 
 singularly perverted by his misconception from their true 
 meaning, and alternately throwing out prospects of censure 
 or approval. Such was jMajor Monsoon ; and to conclude 
 in his own words this brief sketch, he '' wou.ld have been an 
 excellent officer if Providence had not made him such a 
 confounded, drunken, old scoundrel." 
 
 " Now, then, for the King of Spain's story. Out with it, 
 old boy ; we are all good men and true here," cried Power, 
 as we sloAvly came along upon the tide up the Tagus, " so 
 you 've nothing to fear." 
 
 " Upon my life," replied the major, " I don't half like the 
 tone of our conversation. There is a certain freedom young 
 men affect now a-days regarding morals that is not at all to 
 my taste. When I was five or six and twenty — " 
 
 " You were the greatest scamp in the service," cried 
 Power, 
 
 " Pie, fie, Fred. If I was a little wild or so," — here the 
 major's eyes twinkled maliciously, — '' it was the ladies that 
 spoiled me ; I was always something of a favorite, just like 
 our friend Sparks there, Not that we fared very much 
 alike in our little adventures ; for somehow, I believe I was 
 generally in fault in most of mine, as many a good man and 
 many an excellent man has been before." Here his voice
 
 292 CHARLES O'MALLEY 
 
 dropped into a moralizing key, as he added, " David, you 
 know, did n't behave well to old Uriah. Upon my life he 
 did not, and he was a very respectable man." 
 
 " The King of Spain's sherry ! the sherry ! " cried I, 
 fearing thai the major's digression might lose us a good 
 story. 
 
 "You shall not have a drop of it," replied the major. 
 
 "But the story. Major, the story!" 
 
 " Nor the story, either." 
 
 " What," said Power, " will you break faith with us ? " 
 
 '' There 's none to be kept with reprobates like you. Fill 
 my glass." 
 
 " Hold there ! stop ! " cried Power. "Not a spoonful till 
 he redeems his pledge." 
 
 "Well, then, if you must have a story, — for most as- 
 suredly I must drink, — I have no objection to give you a 
 leaf from my early reminiscences ; and in compliment to 
 Sparks there, my tale shall be of love." 
 
 " I dinna like to lose the king's story. I hae my thoughts 
 it was na a bad ane." 
 
 "Nor I neither. Doctor; but — " 
 
 " Come, come, you shall have that too, the first night we 
 meet in a bivouac, and as I fear the time may not be very 
 far distant, don't be impatient ; besides a love-story — " 
 
 "Quite true," said Power, "a love-story claims prece- 
 dence ; 2)lace aux davies. There 's a bumper for you, old 
 wickedness ; so go along." 
 
 The major cleared otf his glass, refilled it, sipped twice, 
 and ogled it as though he would have no peculiar objection 
 to sip once more, took a long pinch of snuff from a box 
 nearly as long as, anti something the shape of a child's 
 coffin, looked around to see that Ave were all attention, and 
 thus began ; — 
 
 " When I have been in a moralizing mood, as I very fre- 
 quently am about this hour in the morning, I have often felt 
 surprised by what little, trivial, and insignificant circum- 
 stances our lot in life seems to be cast ; I mean especially 
 as regards the fair sex. You are prospering, as it were, to- 
 day ; to-morrow a new cut of your whiskers, a novel tie of 
 3'our cravat, mars your destiny and spoils your future,
 
 MAJOR MONSOON. 293 
 
 varium et mutahlle, as Horace has it. On the other hand, 
 some equally slight circumstance will do what all your 
 ingenuity may have failed to effect. I knew a fellow who 
 married the greatest fortune in Bath, from the mere habit 
 he had of squeezing one's hand. The lady in question 
 thought it particular, looked conscious, and all that ; he 
 followed up the blow ; and, in a word, they were married 
 in a week. So a friend of mine, who could not help wink- 
 ing his left eye, once opened a flirtation with a lively widow 
 which cost him a special license and a settlement. In fact 
 you are never safe. They are like the guerillas, and they 
 pick you oft' when you least expect it, and when you think 
 there is nothing to fear. Therefore, as young fellows begin- 
 ning life, I would caution you. On this head you can never 
 be too circumspect. Do you know, I was once nearly caught 
 by so slight a habit as sitting thus, with my legs across." 
 
 Here the major rested his right foot on his left knee, in 
 illustration, and continued : — 
 
 "We were quartered in Jamaica. I had not long joined, 
 and was about as raw a young gentleman as you could see ; 
 the only very clear ideas in my head being that we were 
 monstrous fine fellows in the 50th, and that the planters' 
 daughters were deplorably in love with us. Not that I was 
 much wrong on either side. For brandy-and-water, sangaree, 
 Manilla cigars, and the ladies of color, I 'd have backed the 
 corps against the service. Proof was, of eighteen only two 
 ever left the island ; for what with the seductions of the 
 coffee plantations, the sugar canes, the new rum, tlie brown 
 skins, the rainy season, and the yellow fever, most of us 
 settled there. 
 
 " It 's very hard to leave the West Indies if once you 've 
 been quartered there." 
 
 " So I have heard," said Power. 
 
 " In fine, if you don't knock under to the climate, you 
 become soon totally unfit for living anywhere else. Pre- 
 served ginger, yams, flannel jackets, and grog won't bear 
 exportation; and the free-and-easy chuck under the chin, 
 cherishing, waist-pressing kind of way we get with the ladies 
 would be quite misunderstood in less favored regions, and 
 lead to very unpleasant consequences.
 
 294 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "It is a curious fact how much climate has to do with 
 love-making. In our cold country the progress is lamentably 
 slow. Fogs, east winds, sleet, storms, and cutting March 
 weather nip many a budding flirtation ; whereas warm, 
 sunny days and bright moonlight nights, with genial air and 
 balmy zephyrs, open the heart like the cup of a camelia, and 
 let us drink in the soft dew of — " 
 
 " Devilish poetical, that," said Power, evolving a long blue 
 line of smoke from the corner of his mouth. 
 
 "Isn't it, though?" said the major, smiling graciously. 
 " 'Pon my life, I thought so myself. Where was I ? " 
 
 " Out of my latitude altogether," said the poor skipper, 
 who often found it hard to follow the thread of a story. 
 
 " Yes, I remember. I was remarking that sangaree and 
 calipash, mangoes and guava jelly, dispose the heart to love, 
 and so they do. I was not more than six weeks in Jamaica 
 when I felt it myself. Now, it was a very dangerous 
 symptom, if you had it strong in you, for this reason. Our 
 colonel, the most cross-grained old crabstick that ever 
 breathed, happened himself to be taken in when young, and 
 resolving, like the fox who lost his tail and said it was not 
 the fashion to wear one, to pretend he did the thing for fun, 
 determined to make every fellow marry upon the slightest 
 provocation. Begad, you might as well enter a powder mag- 
 azine with a branch of candles in your hand, as go into 
 society in the island with a leaning towards the fair sex. 
 Very hard this was for me particularly ; for like poor Sparks 
 there, my weakness was ever for the petticoats. I had, 
 besides, no petty, contemptible prejudices as to nation, habits, 
 language, color, or complexion ; black, brown, or fair, from 
 the Muscovite to the Malabar, from the voluptuous embon- 
 jiomt of the adjutant's widow, — don't be angry old boy, — 
 to the fairy form of Isabella herself, I loved them all round. 
 But were I to give a preference anywhere I should certainly 
 do so to the West Indians, if it were only for the sake of 
 the planters' daughters. I say it fearlessly, these colonies 
 are the brightest jewels m the crown. Let 's drink their 
 health, for I 'm as husky as a lime-kiln." 
 
 This ceremony being performed with suitable enthusiasm, 
 the major cried out, " Another cheer for Polly Hackett, the
 
 MAJOR MONSOON. 295 
 
 sweetest girl in Jamaica. By Jove, Power, if you only saw 
 her as I did five and forty years ago, with eyes black as jet, 
 twinkling, ogling, leering, teasing, and imploring, all at 
 once, do you mind, and a mouthful of downright pearls pout- 
 ing and smiling at you, why, man, you 'd have proposed for 
 her in the first half-hour, and shot yourself the next, when 
 she refused you. She was, indeed, a perfect little beauty, 
 rayther dark, to be sure, — a little upon the rosewood tinge, 
 but beautifully polished, and a very nice piece of furniture 
 for a cottage orne, as the French call it. Alas, alas, how 
 these vanities do catch hold of us ! My recollections have 
 made me quite feverish and thirsty. Is there any cold punch 
 in the bowl ? Thank you, O'Malley, that will do, — merely to 
 touch my lips. Well, well, it 's all past and gone now ; but 
 I was very fond of Polly Hackett, and she was of me. We 
 used to take our little evening walks together through the 
 coffee plantation : very romantic little strolls they were, she 
 in white muslin with a blue sash and blue shoes ; I in a 
 flannel jacket and trousers, straw hat and cravat, a Virginia 
 cigar as long as a walking-stick in my mouth, puffing and 
 courting between times ; then we 'd take a turn to the 
 refining-house, look in at the big boilers, quiz the niggers, 
 and come back to Twangberry Moss to supper, where old 
 Hackett, the father, sported a glorious table at eleven 
 o'clock. Great feeding it was ; you were always sure of a 
 preserved monkey, a baked land-crab, or some such delicacy. 
 And such Madeira ; it makes me dry to think of it. 
 
 " Talk of West India slavery, indeed. It 's the only land 
 of liberty. There is nothing to compare with the perfect 
 free-and-easy, devil-may-care-kin d-of-a-take-yourself way that 
 every one has there. If it would be any peculiar comfort 
 for you to sit in the saddle of mutton, and put your legs in 
 a soup tureen at dinner, there would be found very few to 
 object to it. There is no nonsense of any kind about 
 etiquette. You eat, drink, and are merry, or, if you prefer, 
 are sad ; just as you please. You may wear uniform, or you 
 may not, it 's your own affair ; and consequently, it may be 
 imagined how insensibly such privileges gain upon one, and 
 how very reluctant we become ever to resign or abandon 
 them.
 
 296 CHARLES O'xMALLEY. 
 
 "I was the man to appreciate it all. Tlie whole course 
 of proceeding seemed to have been invented for my peculiar 
 convenience, and not a man in tlie island enjoyed a more 
 luxurious existence than myself, not knowing all the while 
 how dearly I was destined to pay for my little comforts. 
 Among my plenary after-dinner indulgences I had contracted 
 an inveterate habit of sitting cross-legged, as I showed you. 
 Now, this was become a perfect necessity of existence to me. 
 I could have dispensed with cheese, Avith my glass of port, 
 my pickled mango, my olive, my anchovy toast, my nutshell 
 of cura9oa, but not my favorite lounge. You may smile ; 
 but I 've read of a man who could never dance except in a 
 room with an old hair-brush. Now, I 'm certain my stomach 
 would not digest if my legs were perpendicular. I don't 
 mean to defend the thing. The attitude was not graceful, 
 it was not imposing; but it suited me somehow, and I 
 liked it. 
 
 " From what I have already mentioned, you may suppose 
 that West India habits exercised but little control over my 
 favorite practice, which I indulged in every evening of my 
 life. Well, one day old Hackett gave us a great blow-out, 
 — a dinner of two-and-twenty souls ; six days' notice ; turtle 
 from St. Lucie, guinea-fowl, claret of the year forty, Madeira 
 a discretion, and all that. Very well done the whole thing ; 
 nothing wrong, nothing wanting. As for me, I was in great 
 feather. I took Polly in to dinner, greatly to the discom- 
 fiture of old Belson, our major, who was making up in that 
 quarter ; for you must know, she was an only daughter, and 
 had a very nice thing of it in molasses and niggers. The 
 papa preferred the major, but Polly looked sweetly upon 
 me. Well, down we went, and really a most excellent feed 
 we had. Now, I must mention here that Polly had a favor- 
 ite Blenheim spaniel the old fellow detested ; it was always 
 tripping him up and snarling at him, — for it was, except to 
 herself, a beast of rather vicious inclinations. With a true 
 Jamaica taste, it was her pleasure to bring the animal always 
 into the dinner-room, where, if papa discovered him, there 
 was sure to be a row. Servants sent in one direction to 
 hunt him out, others endeavoring to hide him, and so on ; in 
 fact, a tremendous hubbub always followed his introduction
 
 MAJOR MONSOON. 297 
 
 and accompanied his exit, upon which, occasions I invariably 
 exercised my gallantry by protecting the beast, although I 
 hated him like the devil all the time. 
 
 "To return to our dinner. After two mortal hours of 
 hard eating, the pace began to slacken, and as evening 
 closed in, a sense of peaceful repose seemed to descend 
 upon our labors. Pastels shed an aromatic vapor through 
 the room. The well-iced decanters went with measured 
 pace along ; conversation, subdued to the meridian of after- 
 dinner comfort, just murmured ; the open jalousies dis- 
 played upon the broad veranda the orange-tree in full 
 blossom, slightly stirring with the cool sea-breeze." 
 
 "And the piece of white muslin beside you, what of 
 her ? '• 
 
 " Looked twenty times more bewitching than ever. Well, 
 it was just the hour when, opening the last two buttons of 
 your white waistcoat (remember we were in Jamaica), you 
 stretch your legs to tlie full extent, throw your arm care- 
 lessly over the back of your chair, look contemplatively 
 towards the ceiling, and wonder, within yourself, why it is 
 not all ' after dinner ' in this same world of ours. Such, at 
 least, were my reflections as I assumed my attitude of 
 supreme comfort, and inwardly ejaculated a health to 
 Sneyd and Barton. Just at this moment I heard Polly's 
 voice gently whisper, — 
 
 " ' Is n't he a love ? Is n't he a darling ? ' 
 
 " ^ Zounds ! ' thought I, as a pang of jealousy shot 
 through my heart, ' is it the major she means ? ' For old 
 Belson, with his bag wig and rouged cheeks, was seated on 
 the other side of her. 
 
 " ' What a dear thing it is ! ' said Polly. 
 
 " ' Worse and worse,' said I ; ' it must be him.' 
 
 " ' I do so love his muzzy face.' 
 
 " ' It is him ! ' said I, throwing off a bumper, and almost 
 boiling over with passion at the moment. 
 
 " ' I wish I could take one look at him,' said she, laying 
 down her head as she spoke. 
 
 " The major whispered something in her ear, to which 
 she replied, — 
 
 " ' Oh, I dare not ; papa will see me at once.'
 
 298 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' Don't be afraid, Madam/ said I, fiercely ; ' your father 
 perfectly approves of your taste.' 
 
 " ' Are you sure of it ? ' said she, giving nie such a look. 
 
 "'I know it,' said I, struggling violently with my 
 agitation. 
 
 "The major leaned over as if to touch her hand beneath 
 the cloth. I almost sprang from my chair, when Polly, in 
 her sweetest accents, said, — 
 
 " ' You must be patient, dear thing, or you may be found 
 out, and then there will be such a piece of work. Though 
 I 'm sure. Major, you would not betray me.' The major 
 smiled till he cracked the paint upon his cheeks. ' And I 
 am sure that Mr. Monsoon — ' 
 
 " ' You may rely upon me,' said I, half sneeringly. 
 
 "The major and I exchanged glances of defiance, while 
 Polly continued, — 
 
 " ' Now, come, don't be restless. You are very comfort- 
 able there. Is n't he. Major ? ' The major smiled again 
 more graciously than before, as he added, — 
 
 " ' May I take a look ? ' 
 
 "'Just one peep, then, no more !' said she, coquettishly ; 
 ' poor dear Wowski is so timid.' 
 
 " Scarcely had these words borne balm and comfort to 
 my heart, — for I now knew that to the dog, and not to my 
 rival, were all the flattering expressions applied, — when a 
 slight scream from Polly, and a tremendous oath from the 
 major, raised me from my dream of happiness. 
 
 " ' Take your foot doAvn, sir. Mr. Monsoon, how could 
 you do so ? ' cried Polly. 
 
 " ' What the devil, sir, do you mean ? ' shouted the 
 major. 
 
 " ' Oh, I shall die of shame,' sobbed she. 
 
 " ' I '11 shoot him like a riddle,' muttered old Belson. 
 
 " By this time the whole table had got at the story, and 
 such peals of laughter, mingled with suggestions for my 
 personal maltreatment, I never heard. All my attempts at 
 explanation were in vain. I was not listened to, much less 
 believed ; and the old colonel finished the scene by ordering 
 me to my quarters, in a voice I shall never forget, the 
 whole room being, at the time I made my exit, one scene
 
 MAJOR MOXSOON. 299 
 
 of tumultuous laughter from one end to the other. Jamaica 
 after this became too hot for me. The story was repeated 
 on every side ; for, it seems, I had been sitting with my 
 foot on Polly's lap ; but so occupied was I with my jealous 
 vigilance of the major I was not aware of the fact until she 
 herself discovered it. 
 
 " I need not say how the following morning brought with 
 it every possible offer of amende upon my part ; anything 
 from a written apology to a proposition to marry the lady 
 I was ready for, and how the matter might have ended I 
 know not ; for in the middle of the negotiations, we were 
 ordered off to Halifax where, be assured, I abandoned my 
 Oriental attitude for many a long day after."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE LANDING. 
 
 What a contrast to the dull monotony of our life at sea 
 did the scene present which awaited us on landing in Lis- 
 bon. The whole quay was crowded with hundreds of people 
 eagerly watching the vessel which bore from her mast the 
 broad ensign of Britain. Dark-featured, swarthy, mus- 
 tached faces, with red caps rakishly set on one side, 
 mingled with the Saxon faces and fair-haired natives of our 
 own country. Men-of-war boats plied unceasingly to and 
 fro across the tranquil river, some slender reefer in the 
 stern-sheets, while behind him trailed the red pennon of 
 some " tall admiral." 
 
 The din and clamor of a mighty city mingled with the 
 far-off sounds of military music ; and in the vistas of the 
 opening street, masses of troops might be seen in marching 
 order ; and all betokened the near approach of war. 
 
 Our anchor had scarcely been dropped, when an eight-oar 
 gig, with a midshipman steering, came alongside. 
 
 " Ship ahoy, there ! You 've troops on board ? " 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 Before the answer could be spoken, he was on the deck. 
 
 " May I ask," said he, touching his cap slightly, " who is 
 the officer in command of the detachment ? " 
 
 " Captain Power ; very much at your service," said Fred, 
 returning the salute. 
 
 " Bear- Admiral Sir Edward Douglas requests that you 
 will do him the favor to come on board immediately, and 
 bring your despatches with you." 
 
 " I 'm quite ready," said Power, as he placed his papers 
 in his sabretasche; "but first tell us what's doing here. 
 Anything new lately ? " 
 
 "I have heard nothing, except of some affair with the 
 Portuguese, — they 've been drubbed again ; but our people
 
 THE LANDING. 301 
 
 have not been engaged. I say, we had better get under 
 way ; there 's our first lieutenant with his telescope up ; 
 he 's looking straight at us. So, come along. Good-evening, 
 gentlemen." And in another moment the sharp craft was 
 cutting the clear water, while Power gayly waved us a 
 good-by. 
 
 "Who's for shore?" said the skipper, as half-a-dozen 
 boats swarmed around the side, or held on by their boat- 
 hooks to the rigging. 
 
 " Who is not ? " said Monsoon, Avho now appeared in his 
 old blue frock covered with tarnished braiding, and a 
 cocked hat that might have roofed a pagoda. " Who is not, 
 my old boy ? Is not every man among us delighted with 
 the prospect of fresh prog, cool wine, and a bed somewhat 
 longer than four feet six ? I say, O'Malley ! Sparks ! 
 Where 's the adjutant ? Ah, there he is ! We '11 not mind 
 the doctor, — he 's a very jovial little fellow, but a damned 
 bore, entre nous; and we '11 have a cosy little supper at the 
 Rue di Toledo. I know the place well. Whew, now ! Get 
 away, boy. Sit steady, Sparks ; she 's only a cockleshell. 
 There ; that 's the Plaza de la Regna, — there, to the left. 
 There 's the great cathedral, — you can't see it now. An- 
 other seventy-four ! Why there 's a whole fleet here ! I 
 wish old Power joy of his afternoon with old Douglas." . 
 
 " Do you know him then. Major ? " 
 
 '•' Do I ? — I should rather think I do. He was going to 
 put me in irons here in this river once. A great shame it 
 was ; but I '11 tell you the story another time. There, 
 gently now ; that 's it. Thank God ! once more upon land. 
 How I do hate a ship ; upon my life, a sauce-boat is the 
 only boat endurable in this world.". 
 
 We edged our way with difficulty through the dense 
 crowd, and at last reached the Plaza. Here the numbers 
 were still greater, but of a different class : several pretty 
 and well-dressed women, with their dark eyes twinkling 
 above their black mantillas as they held them across their 
 faces, watched with an intense curiosity one of the streets 
 that opened upon the square. 
 
 In a few moments the band of a regiment was heard, and 
 very shortly after the regular tramp of troops followed, as
 
 302 CHARLES O'JklALLEY. 
 
 the Eiglity-seveuth marclied. into the Plaza, and formed a 
 line. 
 
 The music ceased ; the drums rolled along the line ; and 
 the next moment all was still. It was really an inspiriting 
 sight to one whose heart was interested in the career, to 
 see those gallant fellows, as, with their bronzed faces and 
 stalwart frames, they stood motionless as a rock. As I 
 continued to look, the band marched into the middle of 
 the square, and struck up, " Garryowen." Scarcely was the 
 first part played, when a tremendous cheer burst from the 
 troop-ship in the river. The welcome notes had reached 
 the poor fellows there ; the well-known sounds that told 
 of home and country met their ears ; and the loud cry of 
 recognition bespoke their hearts' fulness. 
 
 " There they go. Your wild countrymen have heard their 
 Ranz des vaches, it seems. Lord ! how they frightened the 
 poor Portuguese ; look how they 're running ! " 
 
 Such was actually the case. The loud cheer uttered from 
 the river was taken up by others straggling on shore, and 
 one universal shout betokened that fully one-third of the 
 red-coats around came from the dear island, and in their 
 enthusiasm had terrified the natives to no small extent. 
 
 "Is not that Ferguson there!" cried the major, as an 
 officer passed us with his arm in a sling. " I say, Joe — 
 Ferguson ! oh, knew it was ! " 
 
 " Monsoon, my hearty, how goes it ? — only just arrived, 
 I see. Delighted to meet you out here once more. Why, 
 we 've been as dull as a veteran battalion without you. 
 These your friends ? Pray present me." The ceremony of 
 introduction over, the major invited Ferguson to join our 
 party at supper. "No, not to-night. Major," said he, "you 
 must be my guests this evening. My quarters are not five 
 minutes' walk from this ; I shall not promise you very 
 luxurious fare." 
 
 " A carbonade with olives, a roast duck, a bowl of bishop, 
 and, if you will, a few bottles of Burgundy," said the major; 
 " don't put yourself out for us, — soldier's fare, eh ? " 
 
 I could not help smiling at the naive notion of simplicity 
 so cunningly suggested by old Monsoon. As I followed the 
 party through the streets, my step was light, my heart not
 
 THE LANDING. 303 
 
 less so; for what sensations are more delightful than those 
 of landing after a voyage ? The escape from the durance vile 
 of shipboard, with its monotonous days and dreary nights, 
 its ill-regulated appointments, its cramped accommodation, 
 its uncertain duration, its eternal round of unchanging 
 amusements, for the freedom of the shore, with a land 
 breeze, and a firm footing to tread upon ; and certainly, not 
 least of all, the sight of that brightest part of creation, 
 whose soft eyes and tight ankles are, perhaps, the greatest 
 of all imaginable pleasures to him who has been the dweller 
 on blue water for several weeks long. 
 
 "Here we are," cried out Ferguson, as we stopped at the 
 door of a large and handsome house. We follow up a spa- 
 cious stair into an ample room, sparingly, but not uncom- 
 fortably furnished: plans of sieges, maps of the seat of 
 war, pistols, sabres, and belts decorated the white walls, 
 and a few books and a stray army list betokened the habits 
 of the occupant. 
 
 While Ferguson disappeared to make some preparations 
 for supper, Monsoon commenced a congratulation to the 
 party upon the good fortune that had befallen them. " Cap- 
 ital fellow is Joe ; never without something good, and a 
 rare one to pass the bottle. Oh, here he comes. Be alive 
 there. Sparks, take a corner of the cloth ; how deliciously 
 juicy that ham looks. Pass the Madeira down there ; what 's 
 under that cover, — stewed kidneys ? " While Monsoon 
 went on thus we took our places at the table, and set to with 
 an appetite which only a newly-landed traveller ever knows. 
 
 " Another spoonful of the gravy ? Thank you. And so 
 they say we 've not been faring over well latterly ? " said 
 the major. 
 
 " Not a word of truth in the report. Our people have not 
 been engaged. The only thing lately was a smart brush 
 we had at the Tamega. Poor Patrick, a countryman of 
 ours, and myself were serving with the Portuguese bri- 
 gade, when Laborde drove us back upon the town and actu- 
 ally routed us. The Portuguese general, caring little for 
 anything save his own safety, was making at once for the 
 mountains when Patrick called upon his battalion to face 
 about and charge ; and nobly they did it, too. Down they
 
 304 CHARLES O'lM ALLEY. 
 
 came upon tlie advancing masses of the French, and liter- 
 ally hurled them back upon the main body. The other 
 regiments, seeing this gallant stand, wheeled about and 
 poured in a volley, and then, fixing bayonets, stormed a 
 little mount beside the hedge, which commanded the whole 
 suburb of Villa Eeal. The French, who soon recovered 
 their order, now prepared for a second attack, and came 
 on in two dense columns, when Patrick, who had little 
 confidence in the steadiness of his people for any length- 
 ened resistance, resolved upon once more charging with the 
 bayonet. The order was scarcely given when the French 
 were upon us, their flank defended by some of La Houssaye's 
 heavy dragoons. For an instant the conflict was doubtful, 
 until poor Patrick fell mortally wounded upon the parapet ; 
 when the men, no longer hearing his bold cheer, nor seeing 
 his noble figure in the advance, turned and fled, pell-mell, 
 back upon the town. As for me, blocked up amidst the mass, 
 I was cut down from the shoulder to the elbow by a young 
 fellow of about sixteen, who galloped about like a schoolboy 
 on a holiday. The wound was only dangerous from the loss 
 of blood, and so I contrived to reach Amacante without 
 much difficulty ; from whence, with three or four others, I 
 was ordered here until fit for service." 
 
 '* But what news from our own head-quarters ? " in- 
 quired I. 
 
 "All imaginable kind of rumors are afloat. Some say 
 that Craddock is retiring ; others, that a part of the army 
 is in motion upon Caldas." 
 
 "Then we are not going to have a very long sojourn here, 
 after all, eh, Major ? Donna Maria de Tormes will be incon- 
 solable. By-the-bye, their house is just opposite us. Have 
 you never heard Monsoon mention his friends there ? " 
 
 " Come, come, Joe, how can you be so foolish ? " 
 
 "But, Major, my dear friend, what signifies your mod- 
 esty ? There is not a man in the service does not know it, 
 save those in the last gazette." 
 
 " Indeed, Joe, I am very angry with you." 
 
 " Well, then, by Jove ! I must tell it, myself ; though, 
 faith, lads, you lose not a little for want of Monsoon's 
 tact in the narrative."
 
 THE LANDING. 305 
 
 *' Anything is better that trusting to such a biographer," 
 cried the major ; *' so here goes : — 
 
 "When I was acting commissary-general to the Portu- 
 guese forces some few years ago, I obtained great experi- 
 ence of the habits of the people ; for though naturally of an 
 unsuspecting temperament myself, I generally contrive to 
 pick out the little foibles of my associates, even upon a 
 short acquaintance. Now, my appointment pleased me very 
 much on this score, — it gave me little opportunities of ex- 
 amining the world. 'The greatest study of mankind is 
 man,' — Sparks would say woman, but no matter. 
 
 " Xow, I soon discovered that our ancient and very excel- 
 lent allies, the Portuguese, with a beautiful climate, deli- 
 cious wines, and very delightful wives and daughters, were 
 the most infernal rogues and scoundrels ever met with. 
 ' Make yourself thoroughly acquainted with the leading 
 features of the natives,' said old Sir Harry to me in a 
 despatch from head-quarters ; and, faith, it was not diffi- 
 cult, — such open, palpable, undisguised rascals never were 
 heard of. I thought I knew a thing or two myself, when I 
 landed ; but, Lord love you ! I was a babe, I was an infant 
 in swaddling clothes, compared with them ; and they hum- 
 bugged me, — ay, me ! — till I began to suspect that I was 
 only walking in my sleep. 
 
 " ' Why, IVIonsoon,' said the general, * they told me you 
 were a sharp fellow, and yet the people here seem to work 
 round you every day. This will never do. You must 
 brighten up a little or I shall be obliged to send you 
 back.' 
 
 "'General,' said I, 'they used to call me no fool in 
 England ; but, somehow, here — ' 
 
 " ' I understand,' said he ; ' you don't know the Portu- 
 guese •, there 's but one way with them, — strike quickly, 
 and strike home. Never give them time for roguery, — for 
 if they have a moment's reflection, they '11 cheat the devil 
 himself; but when yoa see the plot working, come slap 
 down and decide the thing your own way.' 
 
 "Well, now, there never was anything so true as this 
 advice, and for the eighteen months I acted upon it, I 
 never knew it to fail. 
 VOL. I. — 20
 
 306 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " * I want a thousand measures of wheat.' 
 
 " * Senhor Excellenza, the crops have been miserably- 
 deficient, and ' 
 
 "■ ' Sergeant-major/ I would say, ' these poor people have 
 no corn ; it 's a wine country, — let them make uj) the rations 
 that way.' 
 
 " The wheat came in that evening. 
 
 " ' One hundred and twenty bullocks wanted for the re- 
 serve.' 
 
 " ' The cattle are all up the mountains.' 
 
 "'Let the alcalde catch them before night or I'll catch 
 him.'' 
 
 " Lord bless you ! I had beef enough to feed the Penin- 
 sula. And in this way, while the forces were eating short 
 allowance and half rations elsewhere, our brigade were 
 plump as aldermen. 
 
 " When we lay in Andalusia this was easy enough. What 
 a country, to be sure ! Such vineyards, such gardens, such 
 delicious valleys, waving with corn and fat with olives ; 
 actually, it seemed a kind of dispensation of Providence to 
 make war in. There was everything you could desire ; and 
 then, the people, like all your wealthy ones, were so timid, 
 and so easily frightened, you could get what you pleased 
 out of them by a little terror. My scouts managed this 
 very well. 
 
 " ' He is coming,' they would say, ' after to-morrow.' 
 
 " ' Madre de Dlos ! ' 
 
 " ' I hope he won't burn the village.' 
 
 " ' Questos Infernales Ingleses ! how wicked they are.' 
 
 '■'■ ' You 'd better try what a sack of moidores or doubloons 
 might do with him ; he may refuse them, but make the 
 effort.' 
 
 "Ha!" said the major, with a long-drawn sigh, "those 
 were pleasant times ; alas, that they should ever come to 
 an end ! Well, among the old hidalgos I met there was one 
 Don Emanuel Selvio de Tormes, an awful okl miser, rich as 
 Croesus, and suspicious as the arch-iiend himself. Lord, 
 how I melted him down ! I quartered two squadrons of 
 horse and a troop of flying artillery upon him. How the 
 fellows did eat ! Such a consumption of wines was never
 
 THE LAXDING. 307 
 
 heard of ; and as they began to slacken a little, I took care 
 to replace them by fresh arrivals, — fellows from the moun- 
 tains, cagadores they call them. At last, my friend Don 
 Emanuel could stand it no longer, and he sent me a diplo- 
 matic envoy to negotiate terms, which, upon the whole, 
 I must say, were fair enough ; and in a few days after, 
 the cagadores were withdrawn, and I took up my quarters 
 at the chateau. I have had various chances and changes in 
 this wicked world, but I am free to confess that I never 
 passed a more agreeable time than the seven weeks I spent 
 there. Don Emanuel, when properly managed, became a 
 very pleasant little fellow ; Donna Maria, his wife, was 
 a sweet creature. You need not be winking that way. 
 Upon my life she was : rather fat, to be sure, and her age 
 something verging upon the fifties; but she had such eyes, 
 black as sloes, and luscious as ripe grapes ; and she was 
 always smiling and ogling, and looking so sweet. Con- 
 found me, if 1 think she was n't the most enchanting being 
 in this world, with about ten thousand pounds' worth of 
 jewels upon hei lingers and in hei ears. I have her before 
 me at this Instant, as she used to sit in the little arbor in 
 the garden, with a Manilla cigar in her mouth, and a little 
 brandy-and-water — qidte weak, you know — beside her. 
 
 " ' Ah, General,' she used to say — she always called me 
 general — 'what a glorious career yours is! A soldier is 
 indeed a man.' 
 
 ''Then she would look at poor Emanuel, who used to 
 sit in a corner, holding his hand to his face, for hours, 
 calculating interest and cent per cent, till he fell asleep. 
 
 "oSTow, he labored under a very singular malady, — not 
 that 1 ever knew it at the time, — a kind of luxation of the 
 lower jaw, which, when it came on, happened somehow to 
 press upon some vital nerve or other, and left him perfectly 
 paralyzed till it was restored to its proper place. In fact, 
 during the time the agony lasted, he was like one in a 
 trance ; for though he could see and hear, he could neither 
 speak nor move, and looked as if he had done with both for 
 many a day to come. 
 
 " Well, as I was saying, I knew nothing of all this till a 
 slight circumstance made it known to me. I was seated
 
 308 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 one eveumg in the little arbor I mentioned, with Donna 
 Maria. There was a little table before us covered with 
 wines and fruits, a dish of olives, some Castile oranges, and 
 a fresh pine. I remember it well : my eye roved over the 
 little dessert set out in old-fashioned, rich silver dishes, 
 then turned towards the lady herself, with rings and 
 brooches, earrings and chains enough to reward one for 
 sacking a town ; and I said to myself, ' jMonsoon, Monsoon, 
 this is better than long marches in the Pyrenees, with a 
 cork-tree for a bed-curtain, and wet grass for a mattress. 
 How pleasantly one might jog on in this world with this 
 little country-house for his abode, and Donna Maria for a 
 companion ! ' 
 
 " I tasted the port ; it was delicious. Now, I knew very 
 little Portuguese, but I made some effort to ask if there was 
 much of it in the cellar. 
 
 " She smiled, and said, ' Oh, yes.' 
 
 " ' What a luxurious life one might lead here ! ' thought 
 I; 'and after all, perhaps Providence might remove Don 
 Emanuel.' 
 
 " I finished the bottle as I thus meditated. The next 
 was, if possible, more crusty. 
 
 " ' This is a delicious retreat,' said I, soliloquizing. 
 
 " Donna Maria seemed to know what was passing in my 
 mind, for she smiled, too. 
 
 " ' Yes,' said I, in broken Portuguese, ' one ought to be 
 very happy here, Donna Maria.' 
 
 " She blushed, and I continued ; — 
 
 "'What can one want for more in this life? All the 
 charms that rendered Paradise what it was ' — I took her 
 hand here — ' and made Adam blessed.' 
 
 " ' Ah, General ! ' said she, with a sigh, ' you are such a 
 flatterer.' 
 
 "'Who could flatter,' said I, with enthusiasm, 'when 
 there are not words enough to express what he feels ? ' 
 This was true, for my Portuguese was fast failing me, 
 'But if I ever was happy, it is now.' 
 
 "I took another pull at the port. 
 
 "'If I only thought,' said I, 'that my presence here 
 was not thought unwelcome — '
 
 THE LANDING. 
 
 309 
 
 "Tie, General,' said she, 'how could you say such a 
 thing ? ' 
 
 " ' If I only thought I was not hated,' said I, tremblingly. 
 
 " ' Oh ! ' said she, again. 
 
 " * Despised.' 
 
 « ' Oh ! ' 
 
 " ' Loathed.' 
 
 "She pressed my hand, I kissed hers; she hurriedly 
 snatched it from me, and pointed towards a lime-tree near. 
 
 beneath which, in the cool enjoyment of his cigar, sat the 
 spare and detested figure of Don Emanuel. 
 
 " ' Yes,' thought I, ' there he is, — the only bar to my good 
 fortune ; were it not for him, I should not be long before I 
 became possessor of this excellent old chateau, with a most 
 indiscretionary power over the cellar. Don INIauricius Mon- 
 soon would speedily assume his place among the grandees 
 of Portugal.' 
 
 '*I know not how long my revery lasted, nor, indeed, 
 how the evening passed ; but I remember well the moon 
 was up, and a sky, bright with a thousand stars was shin- 
 ing, as I sat beside the fair Donna Maria, endeavoring, with
 
 310 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 such Portuguese as it had pleased fate to bestow on me, to 
 instruct her touching my warlilie services and deeds of arms. 
 The fourtli bottle of port was ebbing beneath my eloquence, 
 as responsively her heart beat, when I heard a slight rustle 
 in the branches near. I looked, and, Heavens, what a sight 
 did I behold ! There was little Don Emanuel stretched 
 apon the grass with his mouth wide open, his face pale as 
 death, his arms stretched out at either side, and his legs 
 stiffened straight out. I ran over and asked if he were 
 ill, but no answer came. I lifted up an arm, but it fell 
 heavily upon the ground as I let it go ; the leg did likewise. 
 I touched his nose ; it was cold. 
 
 " ' Hollo,' thought I, ' is it so ? This comes of mixing 
 water with your sherry. I saw where it would end.' 
 
 " Now, upon my life ! I felt sorry for the little felloAV ; 
 but somehow, one gets so familiarized with this sort of 
 thing in a campaign that one only half feels in a case 
 like this. 
 
 " ' Yes/ said I, ' man is but grass ; but I for one must 
 make hay when the sun shines. Now for the Donna Maria,' 
 — for the poor thing was asleep in the arbor all this while. 
 
 " ' Donna,' said I, shaking her by the elbow, — * Donna, 
 don't be shocked at what I 'm going to say.' 
 
 " ' Ah, General,' said she, with a sigh, ' say no more ; I 
 must not listen to you.' 
 
 " ' You don't know that,' said I, with a knowing look, — 
 'you don't know that.' 
 
 " ' Why, what can you mean ? ' 
 
 " ' The little fellow is done for.' For tho port was work- 
 ing strong now, and destroyed all my fine sensibility. ' Yes, 
 Donna,' said I, ' you are free,' — here I threw myself upon 
 my knees, — ' free to make me the happiest of commissaries 
 and the jolliest grandee of Portugal that ever — ' 
 
 " ' But Don Emamiel ? ' 
 
 " ' Eun out, dry, empty,' inverting a finished decanter to 
 typify my words as I spoke. 
 
 " ' He is not dead ? ' said she, with a scream. 
 
 " ' Even so,' said I, with a hiccough ! ' ordered for service 
 in a better world, where there are neither inspections nor 
 arrears.'
 
 THE LANDING. 311 
 
 " Before the words were well out, she sprang from the 
 bench and rushed over to the spot where the little don 
 lay. What she said or did I know not, but the next mo- 
 ment he sat bolt upright on the grass, and as he held his 
 jaw with one hand and supported himself on the other, 
 vented such a torrent of abuse and insult at me, that, for 
 want of Portuguese enough to reply, I rejoined in English, 
 in which I swore pretty roundly for five minutes. Mean- 
 while the donna had summoned the servants, who removed 
 Don Emanuel to the house, where on my return I found 
 my luggage displayed before the door, Avith a civil hint to 
 deploy in orderly time and take ground elsewhere. 
 
 " In a few days, however, his anger cooled down, and I 
 received a polite note from Donna Maria, that the don at 
 length began to understand the joke, and begged that I 
 would return to the chateau, and that he would expect me 
 at dinner the same day." 
 
 " With which, of course, you complied ? " 
 
 " Which of course I did. Forgive your enemies, my dear 
 boy, — it is only Christian-like ; and really, we lived very 
 happily ever after. The donna was a mighty clever woman, 
 and a dear good soul besides." 
 
 It was late when the major concluded his story ; so after 
 wishing Ferguson a good-night, we took our leave, and re- 
 tired for the night to our quarters.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 LISBON. 
 
 The tramp of horses' feet and the sound of voices be- 
 neath my window roused me from a deep sleep. I sprang 
 up and drew aside tlie curtain. What a strange confusion 
 beset me as I looked forth ! Before me lay a broad and 
 tranquil river whose opposite shore, deeply wooded and 
 studded with villas and cottages, rose abruptly from the 
 water's edge ; vessels of war lay tranquilly in the stream, 
 their pennants trailing in the tide. The loud boom of a 
 morning gun rolled along the surface, awaking a hundred 
 echoes as it passed, and the lazy smoke rested for some 
 minutes on the glassy water as it blended with the thin 
 air of the morning. 
 
 " Where am I ? " was my first question to myself, as I 
 continued to look from side to side, unable* to collect my, 
 scattered senses. 
 
 One word suflficed to recall me to myself, as I heard 
 Power's voice, from without, call out, " Charley ! O'Mal- 
 ley, I say ! Come down here ! " 
 
 I hurriedly threw on my clothes and went to the door. 
 
 " Well, Charley, I 've been put in harness rather sooner 
 than I expected. Here 's old Douglas has been sitting up 
 all night writing despatches ; and I must hasten on to 
 headquarters without a moment's delay. There 's work be- 
 fore us, that 's certain ; but when, where, and how, of that 
 I know nothing. You may expect the route every moment ; 
 the French are still advancing. Meanwhile I have a couple 
 of commissions for you to execute. Pirst, here 's a packet 
 for Hammersley ; you are sure to meet him with the regi- 
 ment in a day or two. I have some scruples about asking 
 you this ; but, confound it ! you 're too sensible a fellow to 
 care — " Here he hesitated ; and as I colored to the eyes, 
 for some minutes he seemed uncertain how to proceed. At
 
 LISBON. 313 
 
 length, recovering himself, he went on : " Now for the other. 
 This is a most loving epistle from a poor devil of a mid- 
 shipman, written last night by a tallow candle, in the cock- 
 pit, containing vows of eternal adoration and a lock of hair. 
 I promised faithfully to deliver it myself ; for the * Thun- 
 derer ' sails for Gibraltar next tide, and he cannot go ashore 
 for an instant. However, as Sir Arthur's billet may be of 
 more importance than the reefer's, I must intrust its safe 
 keeping to your hands. Now, then, don't look so devilish 
 sleepy, but seem to understand what I am saying. This 
 is the address : ' La Senhora Inez da Silviero, Rua Nuova, 
 opposite the barber's.' You '11 not neglect it. So now, my 
 dear boy, till our next meeting, adios ! " 
 
 " Stop ! For Heaven's sake, not so fast, I pray ! Where 's 
 the street ? " 
 
 " The Rua Nuova. Remember Figaro, my boy. Cinque 
 perruche.^^ 
 
 " But Avhat am I to do ? " 
 
 " To do ! What a question ! Anything ; everything. Be 
 a good diplomate. Speak of the torturing agony of the lover, 
 for which I can vouch. The boy is only fifteen. Swear that 
 he is to return in a month, first lieutenant of the ' Thunder 
 Bomb,' with intentions that even Madame Dalrymple would 
 approve." 
 
 " What nonsense," said I, blushing to the eyes. 
 
 " And if that suffice not, I know of but one resource." 
 
 " Which is ? " 
 
 " Make love to her yourself. Ay, even so. Don't look 
 so confoundedly vinegar ; the girl, I hear, is a devilish 
 pretty one, the house pleasant, and I sincerely wish I 
 could exchange duties with you, leaving you to make your 
 bows to his Excellency the C. 0. F., and myself free to 
 make mine to La Senhora. And now, push along, old 
 red cap." 
 
 So saying, he made a significant cut of his whip at 
 the Portuguese guide, and in another moment was out of 
 sight. 
 
 My first thought was one of regret at Power's departure. 
 For some time past we had been inseparable companions ; 
 and notwithstanding the reckless and wild gayety of his
 
 314 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 conduct, I liad ever found him ready to assist me in every 
 difficulty, and that with an address and dexterity a more 
 calculating adviser might not have possessed. I was now 
 utterly alone ; for though Monsoon and the adjutant were 
 still in Lisbon, as was also Sparks, I never could make 
 intimates of them. 
 
 I ate my breakfast with a heavy heart, my solitary posi- 
 tion again suggesting thoughts of home and kindred. Just 
 at this moment my eyes fell upon the packet destined for 
 Hammersley; I took it up and weighed it in my hand. 
 "Alas!" thought I, "how much of my destiny may lie 
 within that envelope ! How fatally may my after-life be 
 influenced by it ! " It felt heavy as though there was 
 something besides letters. True, too true ; there was a 
 picture, Lucy's portrait ! The cold drops of perspiration 
 stood upon my forehead as my fingers traced the outline 
 of a mmiature-case in the parcel. I became deadly weak, 
 and sank, half-fainting, upon a chair. And such is the 
 end of my first dream of happiness ! How have I duped, 
 how have I deceived myself ! For, alas, though Lucy had 
 never responded to my proffered vows of affection, yet had 
 I ever nurtured in my heart a secret hope that I was not 
 altogether uncared for. Every look she had given me, 
 every word she had spoken, the tone of her voice, her step, 
 her every gesture, were before me, all confirming my delu- 
 sion, and yet, — I could bear no more, and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 The loud call of a cavalry trumpet aroused me. 
 
 How long I had passed in this state of despondency I 
 knew not ; but it was long past noon when I rallied myself. 
 My charger was already awaiting me ; and a second blast 
 of the trumpet told that the inspection in the Plaza was 
 about to commence. 
 
 As I continued to dress, I gradually rallied from my 
 depressing thoughts ; and ere I belted my sabretasche, the 
 current of my ideas had turned from their train of sadness 
 to one of hardihood and daring. Lucy Dashwood had 
 treated me like a wilful schoolboy. Mayhap, I may prove 
 myself as gallant a soldier as even him she has preferred 
 before me.
 
 LISBON. 315 
 
 A third sound of the trumpet cut short my reflections, 
 and I sprang into the saddle, and hastened towards the 
 Plaza. As I dashed along the streets, my horse, maddened 
 with the impulse that stirred my own heart, curvetted and 
 plunged unceasingly. As I reached the Pla.za, the crowd 
 became dense, and I was obliged to pull up. The sound of 
 the music, the parade, the tramp of the infantry, and the 
 neighing of the horses, were, however, too much for my 
 mettlesome steed, and he became nearly unmanageable ; 
 he plunged fearfully, and twice reared as though he would 
 have fallen back. As I scattered the foot passengers right 
 and left with terror, my eye fell upon one lovely girl, who, 
 tearing herself from her companion, rushed wildly towards 
 an 'open doorway for shelter; suddenly, however, changing 
 her intention, she came forward a few paces, and then, as 
 if overcome by fear, stood stock-still, her hands clasped 
 upon her bosom, her eyes upturned, her features deadly 
 pale, while her knees seemed bending beneath her. Never 
 did I behold a more beautiful object. Her dark hair had 
 fallen loose upon her shoulder, and she stood the very 
 ideal of the "Madonna Supplicating." My glance was 
 short as a lightning flash ; for the same instant my horse 
 swerved, and dashed forward right at the place where she 
 was standing. One terrific cry rose from the crowd, who 
 saw her danger. Beside her stood a muleteer who had 
 drawn up his mule and cart close beside the footway for 
 safety ; she made one effort to reach it, but her outstretched 
 arms alone moved, and paralyzed by terror, she sank motion- 
 less upon the pavement. There was but one course open to 
 me now ; so collecting myself for the effort, I threw my 
 horse upon his haunches, and then, dashing the spurs into 
 his flanks, breasted him at the mule cart. With one spring 
 he rose, and cleared it at a bound, while the very air rang 
 with the acclamations of the multitude, and a thousand 
 bravos saluted me as I alighted upon the opposite side. 
 
 "Well done, O'Malley !" sang out the little adjutant, as 
 I flew past and pulled up in the middle of the Plaza. 
 
 " Something devilish like Galway in that leap," said a 
 very musical voice beside me ; and at the same instant a 
 tall, soldier-like man, in an undress dragoon frock, touched
 
 316 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 his cap, and said, " A 14th man, I perceive, sir. May I 
 introduce myself? Major O'Shaughnessy." 
 
 I bowed, and shook the major's proffered hand, while he 
 continued, — 
 
 " Old Monsoon mentioned your name to us this morning. 
 You came out together, if I mistake not ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but somehow, I 've missed the major since my 
 landing." 
 
 " Oh, you '11 see him presently ; he '11 be on parade. By- 
 the-bye, he wishes particularly to meet you. We dine to- 
 day at the ' Quai de Soderi,' and if you 're not engaged — ■ 
 Yes, this is the person," said he, turning at the moment 
 towards a servant, who, with a card in his hand, seemed to 
 search for some one in the crowd. 
 
 The man approached, and handed it to me. 
 
 "What can this mean?" said I. "Don Emanuel de 
 Blacas y Silviero, Eua Nuova." 
 
 " Why, that 's the great Portuguese contractor, the in- 
 tendant of half the army, the richest fellow in Lisbon. 
 Have you known him long ? " 
 
 " Never heard of him till now." 
 
 " By Jove, you 're in luck ! No man gives such dinners ; 
 he has such a cellar ! I '11 wager a fifty it was his daughter 
 you took in the flying leap a while ago. I hear she is a 
 beautiful creature." 
 
 " Yes," thought I, " that must be it ; and yet, strange 
 enough, I think the name and address are familiar to me." 
 
 " Ten to one, you 've heard Monsoon speak of liim ; he 's 
 most intimate there. But here comes the major." 
 
 And as he spoke, the illustrious commissary came for- 
 ward holding a vast bundle of papers in one hand, and his 
 snuff-box in the other, followed by a long string of clerks, 
 contractors, assistant-surgeons, paymasters, etc., all eagerly 
 pressing forward to be heard. 
 
 " It 's quite impossible ; I can't do it to-day. Victualling 
 and physicking are very good things, but must be done in 
 season. I have been up all night at the accounts, — have n't 
 I, O'Malley ? " here he winked at me most significant!}^ ; 
 "and then I have the forage and stoppage fund to look 
 through ['we dine at six, sharp,' said he, sotto voce], which
 
 LISBON. 317 
 
 will leave me without one minute unoccupied for the next 
 twenty-four hours. Look to your toggery this evening ; I 've 
 something in my eye for you, O'Malley." 
 
 '' Officers unattached to their several corps will fall into 
 the middle of the Plaza," said a deep voice among the crowd ; 
 and in obedience to the order I rode forward and placed 
 myself with a number of others, apparently newly joined, in 
 the open square. A short, gray-haired old colonel, with a 
 dark, eagle look, proceeded to inspect us, reading from a 
 paper as he came along, — 
 
 "j\Ir. Hepton, 6th Foot; comrhission bearing date 11th 
 January ; drilled, proceed to Ovar, and join his regiment. 
 
 " Mr. Gronow, Fusilier Guards, remains with the depot. 
 
 "Captain Mortimer, 1st Dragoons, appointed aide-de- 
 camp to the general commanding the cavalry brigade. 
 
 " Mr. Sparks, — where is Mr. Sparks ? Mr. Sparks absent 
 from parade ; make a note of it. 
 
 " Mr. O'Malley, 14th Light Dragoons. Mr. O'Malley, — 
 oh, I remember ! I have received a letter from Sir George 
 Da^hwood concerning you. You will hold yourself in readi- 
 ness to march. Your friends desire that before you may 
 obtain any staff appointment, you should have the opportu- 
 nity of seeing some service. Am I to understand such is 
 your wish ? " 
 
 " IMost certainly." 
 
 "May I have the pleasure of your company at dinner 
 to-day ? " 
 
 " I regret that I have already accepted an invitation to 
 dine with Major Monsoon." 
 
 " With Major Monsoon ? Ah, indeed ! Perhaps it might 
 be as well I should mention, — but no matter. I wish you 
 good-morning." 
 
 So saying, the little colonel rode off, leaving me to sup- 
 pose that my dinner engagement had not raised me in his 
 estimation, though why, I could not exactly determine.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVITI. 
 
 THE KUA NUOVA. 
 
 Our dinner was a long and uninteresting one, and as I 
 found that the major was likely to prefer his seat as chair- 
 man of the party to the seductions of ladies' society, I took 
 the first opportunity of escaping and left the room. 
 
 It was a rich moonlight night as I found myself in the 
 street. My way, which led along the banks of the Tagus, 
 was almost as light as in daytime, and crowded with walking 
 parties, who sauntered carelessly along in the enjoyment of 
 the cool, refreshing night-air. On inquiring, I discovered 
 that the Rua Nuova was at the extremity of the city ; but 
 as the road led along by the river I did not regret the dis- 
 tance, but walked on with increasing pleasure at the charms 
 of so heavenly a climate and country. 
 
 After three quarters of an hour's walk, the streets became 
 by degrees less and less crowded. A solitary party passed 
 me now and then ; the buzz of distant voices succeeded to 
 the gay laughter and merry tones of the passing groups, and 
 at length my own footsteps alone awoke the echoes along 
 the deserted pathway. I stopped every now and then to 
 gaze upon the tranquil river, whose eddies were circling in 
 the pale silver of the moonlight. I listened with attentive 
 ear as the night breeze wafted to me the far-off sounds of 
 a guitar, and the deep tones of some lover's serenade ; 
 while again the tender warbling of the nightingale came 
 borne across the stream on a wind rich with the odor of the 
 orange-tree. 
 
 As thus I lingered on my way the time stole on, and it 
 was near midnight ere I had roused myself from the revery 
 surrounding objects had throAvn about me. I stopped sud- 
 denly, and for some minutes I struggled with myself to dis- 
 cover if T was really awake. As I walked along, lost in my 
 reflections, I had entered a little garden beside the river.
 
 THE RUA NUOVA. 319 
 
 Fragrant plants and lovely flowers bloomed on every side ; 
 the orange, the camelia, the cactus, and the rich laurel of 
 Portugal were blending their green and golden hues around 
 me, while the very air was filled with delicious music. 
 " Was it a dream ? Could such ecstasy be real ? " I asked 
 myself, as the rich notes swelled upwards in their strength, 
 and sank in soft cadence to tones of melting harmony ; now 
 bursting forth in the full force of gladness, the voices blended 
 together in one stream of mellow music, and suddenly ceas- 
 ing, the soft but thrilling shake of a female voice rose upon 
 the air, and in its plaintive beauty stirred the very heart. 
 The proud tramp of martial music succeeded to the low wail- 
 ing cry of agony ; then came the crash of battle, the clang 
 of steel ; the thunder of the fight rolled on in all its majesty, 
 increasing in its maddening excitement till it ended in one 
 loud shout of victory. 
 
 All was still ; not a breath moved, not a leaf stirred, and 
 again was I relapsing into my dreamy scepticism, when 
 again the notes swelled upwards in concert. But now their 
 accents were changed, and in low, subdued tones, faintly 
 and slowly uttered, the prayer of thanksgiving rose to 
 Heaven and spoke their gratefulness. I almost fell upon 
 my knees, and already the tears filled my eyes as I drank 
 in the sounds. My heart was full to bursting, and even 
 now as I write it my pulse throbs as I remember the hymn 
 of the Abencerrages. 
 
 When I rallied from my trance of excited pleasure, my 
 first thought was, where was I, and how came I there ? 
 Before I could resolve my doubts upon the question, my at- 
 tention was turned in another direction, for close beside me 
 the branches moved forward, and a pair of arms were thrown 
 around my neck, while a delicious voice cried out in an 
 accent of childish delight, '' Trovadof" At the same in- 
 stant a lovely head sank upon my shoulder, covering it with 
 tresses of long brown hair. The arms pressed me still 
 more closely, till I felt her very heart beating against my 
 side. 
 
 " Mio fradre,''' said a soft, trembling voice, as her fingers 
 played in my hair and patted my temples. 
 
 What a situation mine ! I well knew that some mistaken
 
 320 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 identity had been the cause, but still I could not repress my 
 inclination to return the embrace, as I pressed my lips upon 
 the fair forehead that leaned upon my bosom ; at the same 
 moment she threw back her head, as if to look me more 
 fully in the face. One glance sufficed ; blushing deeply over 
 her cheeks and neck, she sprang from my arms, and uttering 
 a faint cry, staggered against a tree. In an instant I saw 
 it was the lovely girl I had met in the morning ; and with- 
 out losing a second I poured out apologies for my intrusion 
 with all the eloquence I was master of, till she suddenly 
 interrupted me by asking if I spoke French. Scarcely had 
 I recommenced my excuses in that language, when a third 
 party appeared upon the stage. This was a short, elderly 
 man, in a green uniform, with several decorations upon his 
 breast, and a cocked hat with a most flowing plume m his 
 right hand. 
 
 " May I beg to know whom I have the honor of receiving? " 
 inquired he, in very excellent English, as he advanced with 
 a look of very ceremonious and distant politeness. 
 
 I immediately explained that, presuming upon the card 
 which his servant had presented me, I had resolved on pay- 
 ing my respects when a mistake had led me accidentally 
 into his garden. 
 
 My apologies had not come to an end when he folded me 
 in his arms and overwhelmed me with thanks, at the same 
 time saying a few words in Portuguese to his daughter. She 
 stooped down, and taking my hand gently within her own, 
 touched it with her lips. 
 
 This piece of touching courtesy, — which I afterwards 
 found meant little or nothing, — affected me deeply at the 
 time, and I felt the blood rush to my face and forehead, half 
 in pride, half in a sense of shame. My confusion was, how- 
 ever, of short duration ; for taking my arm, the old gentle- 
 man led me along a few paces, and turning round a small 
 clump of olives, entered a little summer-house. Here a 
 considerable party were assembled, which for their pictur- 
 esque effect could scarcely have been better managed on the 
 stage. 
 
 Beneath the mild lustre of a large lamp of stained glass, 
 half hid in the overhanging boughs, was spread a table cov-
 
 THE RUA NUOVA. 321 
 
 ered -with vessels of gold and silver plate of gorgeous rich- 
 ness ; drinking cups and goblets of antique pattern slione 
 among cups of Sevres china or Venetian glass ; delicious 
 fruit, looking a thousand times more tempting for being 
 contained in baskets of silver foliage, peeped from amidst 
 a profusion of fresh flowers, whose odor was continually 
 shed around by a slight jet d'eau that played among tlie 
 leaves. Around upon the grass, seated upon cushions or 
 reclining on Genoa carpets, were several beautiful girls in 
 most becoming costumes, their dark locks and darker eyes 
 speaking of " the soft South," while their expressive gestures 
 and animated looks betokened a race whose temperament is 
 glowing as their clime. There were several men also, the 
 greater number of Avhom appeared in uniform, ■ — bronzed, 
 soldier-like fellows, who had the jaunty air and easy car- 
 riage of their calling, — among whom was one Englishman, 
 or at least so I guessed from his wearing the uniform of a 
 heavy dragoon regiment. 
 
 " This is my daughter's /e^e," said Don Emanuel, as he 
 ushered me into the assembly, — " her birthday ; a sad day 
 it might have been for us had it not been for your courage 
 and forethought." So saying, he commenced a recital of my 
 adventure to the bystanders, who overwhelmed me with 
 civil speeches and a shower of soft looks that completed the 
 fascination of the fairy scene. JMeanwhile the fair Inez had 
 made room for me beside her, and I found myself at once 
 the lion of the party, each vying with her neighbor who 
 should show me most attention. La Senhora herself directing 
 her conversation exclusively to me, — a circumstance which, 
 considering the awkwardness of our first meeting, I felt no 
 small surprise at, and which led me, somewhat maliciously I 
 confess, to make a half allusion to it, feeling some interest 
 in ascertaining for whom the flattering reception was really 
 intended. 
 
 "I thought you were Charles," said she, blushing, in 
 answer to my question. 
 
 " And you are right," said I ; " I am Charles." 
 
 "Nay, but I meant my Charles." 
 
 There was something of touching softness in the tone of 
 these few words that made me half wish I were her Charles. 
 VOL. I, — 21
 
 322 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Whether my look evinced as much or not, I cannot tell, but 
 she speedily added, — 
 
 " He is my brother ; he is a captain in the cagadores, and 
 I expected him here this evening. Some one saw a figure 
 pass the gate and conceal himself in the trees, and I was 
 sure it was he." 
 
 " What a disappointment ! " said I. 
 
 " Yes ; was it not ? " said she, hurriedly ; and then, as if 
 remembering how ungracious was the speech, she blushed 
 more deeply and hung down her head. 
 
 Just at this moment, as I looked up, I caught the eye of 
 the English officer fixed steadfastly upon me. He was a 
 tall, fine-looking fellow, of about two or three and thirty, , 
 with marked and handsome features, which, however, con- 
 veyed an expression of something sneering and sinister that 
 struck me the moment I saw him. His glass was fixed in 
 his eye, and I perceived that he regarded us both with a look 
 of no common interest. My attention did not, however, 
 dwell long upon the circumstance, for Don Emanuel, coming 
 behind my shoulder, asked me if I would not take out his 
 daughter in the bolero they were just forming. 
 
 To my shame I was obliged to confess that I had not even 
 seen the dance ; and while I continued to express my resolve 
 to correct the errors of my education, the Englishman came 
 up and asked the senhora to be his partner. This put the 
 very keystone upon my annoyance, and I half turned angrily 
 away from the spot, when I heard her decline his invitation, 
 and avow her determination not to dance. 
 
 There was something which pleased me so much at this 
 refusal, that I could not help turning upon her a look of 
 most grateful acknowledgment ; but as I did so, I once more 
 encountered the gaze of the Englishman, whose knitted 
 brows and compressed lips were bent upon me in a man- 
 ner there was no mistaking. This was neither the fitting 
 time nor place to seek any explanation of the circumstance, 
 so, wisely resolving to wait a better occasion, I turned away 
 and resumed my attentions towards my fair companion. 
 
 " Then you don't care for the bolero ? " said I, as she 
 reseated herself upon the grass. 
 
 " Oh, I delight in it ! " said she, enthusiastically.
 
 THE RUA NUOVA. 323 
 
 " But you refused to dance ? " 
 
 She hesitated, bhished, tried to mutter something, and 
 was silent. 
 
 " I had determined to learn it," said I, half jestingly ; 
 " but if you will not dance with me — " 
 
 '' Yes ; that I will, — indeed I will." 
 
 "But you declined my countryman. Is it because he is 
 inexpert ? " 
 
 The senhora hesitated, looked confused for some minutes ; 
 at length, coloring slightly, she said : " I have already made 
 one rude speech to you this evening ; I fear lest I should 
 make a second. Tell me, is Captain Trevyllian your friend ? " 
 
 " If you mean that gentleman yonder, I never saw him 
 before." 
 
 " Nor heard of him ? " 
 
 " Nor that either. We are total strangers to each other." 
 
 "Well, then, I may confess it. I do not like him. ]\ry 
 father prefers him to any one else, invites him here daily, 
 and, in fact, instals him as his first favorite. But still, I 
 cannot like him ; and yet I have done my best to do so." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said I, pointedly. " What are his chief de- 
 merits ? Is he not agreeable ? Is he not clever ? " 
 
 "Oh, on the contrary, most agreeable, fascinating, I 
 should say, in conversation ; has travelled, seen a great 
 deal of the world, is very accomplished, and has distin- 
 gxiished himself on several occasions. He wears, as you 
 see, a Portuguese order." 
 
 " And with all that — " 
 
 " And with all that, I cannot bear him. He is a duellist, 
 a notorious duellist. My brother, too, knows more of him, 
 and avoids him. But let us not speak further. I see his 
 eyes are again fixed on us ; and somehow, I fear him, with- 
 out well knowing wherefore." 
 
 A movement among the party, shawls and mantillas 
 were sought for on all sides ; aud the preparations for 
 leave-taking appeared general. Before, however, I had 
 time to express my thanks for my hospitable reception, 
 the guests had assembled in a circle around the senhora, 
 and toasting her with a parting bumper, they commenced 
 in concert a little Portuguese song of farewell, each verse
 
 324 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 concluding with a good-night, which, as they separated and 
 held their way homewards, might now and then be heard 
 rising upon the breeze and wafting their last thoughts back 
 to her. The concluding verse, which struck me much, I 
 have essayed to translate. It ran somehow thus : — 
 
 " The morning breezes chill 
 Now close our joyous scene, 
 And yet we linger still, 
 
 Where we 've so happy been. 
 How blest were it to live 
 
 With hearts like ours so light, 
 And only part to give 
 
 One long and last good-night ! 
 Good-night!" 
 
 With many an invitation to renew my visit, most kindly 
 preferred by Don Emanuel and warmly seconded^ by his 
 daughter, I, too, wished my good-uight and turned my 
 steps homeward.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 THE VILLA. 
 
 The first object which presented itself to my eye the next 
 morning was the midshipman's packet intrusted to my care 
 by Power. I turned it over to read the address more care- 
 fully, and what was my surprise to find that the name was 
 that of my fair friend Donna Inez. 
 
 " This certainly thickens the plot," thought I. " And so 
 I have now fallen upon the real Simon Pure, and the reefer 
 has had the good fortune to distance the dragoon. Well, 
 thus far, I cannot say that I regret it. Now, however, for 
 the parade, and then for the villa." 
 
 "I say, O'Malley," cried out Monsoon, as I appeared on 
 the Plaza, "I have accepted an invitation for you to-day. 
 We dine across the river. Be at my quarters a little before 
 six, and we '11 go together." 
 
 I should rather have declined the invitation ; but not 
 well knowing why, and having no ready excuse, acceded, 
 and promised to be punctual. 
 
 "You were at Don Emanuel's last night. I heard of 
 you ! " 
 
 " Yes ; I spent a most delightful evening." 
 
 " That 's your ground, my boy. A million of moidores, 
 and such a campagna in Valencia. A better thing than the 
 Dalrymple affair. Don't blush. I know it all. But stay ; 
 here they come." 
 
 As he spoke, the general commanding, with a numerous 
 staff, rode forward. As they passed, I recognized a face 
 which I had certainly seen before, and in a moment remem- 
 bered it was that of the dragoon of the evening before. 
 He passed quite close, and fixing his eyes steadfastly on 
 me, evinced no sign of recognition. 
 
 The parade lasted above two hours ; and it was with a 
 feeling of impatience I mounted a fresh horse to canter out
 
 326 CHARLES O'JMALLEY. 
 
 to the villa. When I arrived, the servant informed me that 
 Don Emanuel Avas in the city, but that the senhora was in 
 the garden, offering, at the same time, to escort me. De- 
 clining this honor, I intrusted my horse to his keeping and 
 took my way towards the arbor where last I had seen her. 
 
 I had not walked many paces, when the sound of a guitar 
 struck on my ear. I listened. It was the senhora's voice. 
 She was singing a Venetian canzonetta in a low, soft, war- 
 bling tone, as one lost in a revery ; as though the music 
 Avas a mere accompaniment to some pleasant thought. I 
 peeped through the dense leaves, and there she sat upon a 
 low garden seat, an open book on the rustic table before 
 her, beside her, embroidery, which seemed only lately 
 abandoned. As I looked, she placed her guitar upon the 
 ground and began to play with a small spaniel that seemed 
 to have waited with impatience for some testimony of favor. 
 A moment more, and she grew weary of this ; then, heaving 
 a long but gentle sigh, leaned back upon her chair and 
 seemed lost in thought. I now had ample time to regard 
 her, and certainly never beheld anything more lovely. 
 There was a character of classic beauty, and her brow, 
 though fair and ample, was still strongly marked upon the 
 temples ; the eyes, being deep and squarely set, imparted a 
 look of intensity to her features which their own softness 
 subdued ; while the short upper lip, which trembled with 
 every passing thought, spoke of a nature tender and im- 
 pressionable, and yet impassioned. Her foot and ankle 
 peeped from beneath her dark robe, and certainly nothing 
 could be more faultless ; while her hand, fair as marble, 
 blue-veined and dimpled, played amidst the long tresses of 
 her hair, that, as if in the wantonness of beauty, fell care- 
 lessly upon her shoulders. 
 
 It was some time before I could tear myself away from 
 the fascination of so much beauty, and it needed no com- 
 mon effort to leave the spot. As I made a short detour in 
 the garden before approaching the arbor, she saw me as I 
 came forward, and kissing her hand gayly, made room for 
 me beside her. 
 
 "I have been fortunate in finding you alone, Senhora," 
 said I, as I seated myself by her side, " for I am the bearer
 
 THE VILLA. 327 
 
 of a letter to you. How far it may interest you, I kuow 
 not, but to the writer's feelings I am bound to testify." 
 
 " A letter to me ? You jest, surely ? " 
 
 " That I am in earnest, this will show," said I, producing 
 the packet. 
 
 She took it from my hands, turned it about and about, 
 examined the seal ; while, half doubtingly, she said : — 
 
 " The name is mine ; but still — " 
 
 " You fear to open it ; is it not so ? But after all, you 
 need not be surprised if it 's from Howard ; that 's his name, 
 I think." 
 
 " Howard ! from little Howard ! " exclaimed she, enthu- 
 siastically ; and tearing open the letter, she pressed it to 
 her lips, her eyes sparkling with pleasure and her cheek 
 glowing as she read. I watched her as she ran rapidly over 
 the lines ; and I confess that, more than once, a pang of 
 discontent shot through my heart that the midshipman's 
 letter could call up such interest, — not that I was in love 
 with her myself, but yet, I know not how it was, I had 
 fancied her affections unengaged ; and without asking my- 
 self wherefore, I wished as much. 
 
 " Poor dear boy ! " said she, as she came to the end. 
 
 How these few and simple words sank into my heart, as 
 I remembered how they had once been uttered to myself, 
 and in perhaps no very dissimilar circumstances. 
 
 " But where is the souvenir he speaks of ? " said she. 
 
 " The souvenir. I 'm not aware — " 
 
 "Oh, I hope you've not lost the lock of hair he sent me !" 
 
 I was quite dumfounded at this, and could not remember 
 whether I had received it from Power or not, so answered, 
 at random, — 
 
 " Yes ; I must have left it on my table." 
 
 " Promise me, then, to bring it to-morrow with you ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said I, with something of pique in my man- 
 ner. " If I find such a means of making my visit an agree- 
 able one, I shall certainly not omit it." 
 
 "You are quite right," said she, either not noticing or 
 not caring for the tone of my reply. " You will, indeed, be 
 a welcome messenger. Do you know, he was one of my 
 levers ? "
 
 328 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " One of tliem, indeed ! Then pray how many do you 
 number at this moment ? " 
 
 '' Whab a question ; as if I could possibly count them ! 
 Besides, there are so many absent, — some on leave, some 
 deserters, perhaps, — that I might be reckoning among my 
 troops, but who, possibly, form part of the forces of the 
 enemy. Do you know little Howard ? " 
 
 " I cannot say that we are personally acquainted, but I 
 am enabled through the inedium of a friend to say that his 
 sentiments are not strange to me. Besides, I have really 
 pledged myself to support the prayer of his petition." 
 
 " How very good of you ! For which reason you 've 
 forgotten, if not lost, the lock of hair." 
 
 "That you shall have to-morrow," said I, pressing my 
 hand solemnly to my heart, 
 
 " Well, then, don't forget it. But hush ; here comes 
 Captain Trevyllian. So you say Lisbon really pleases 
 you ? " said she, in a tone of voice totally changed, as 
 the dragoon of the preceding evening approached. 
 
 " Mr. O'Malley, Captain Trevyllian." 
 
 We bowed stiffly and haughtily to each other, as two men 
 salute who are unavoidably obliged to bow, with every wish 
 on either side to avoid acquaintance. So, at least, I con- 
 strued his bow ; so I certainly intended my own. 
 
 It requires no common tact to give conversation the 
 appearance of unconstraint and ease when it is evident 
 that each person opposite is laboring under excited feel- 
 ings ; so that, notwithstanding the senhora's efforts to engage 
 our attention by the commonplaces of the day, we remained 
 almost silent, and after a few observations of no interest, 
 took our several leaves. Here again a new source of awk- 
 wardness arose ; for as we walked together towards the 
 house, where our horses stood, neither party seemed dis- 
 posed to speak. 
 
 *' You are probably returning to Lisbon ? " said he, coldly. 
 
 I assented by a bow ; upon which, drawing his bridle 
 within his arm, he bowed once more, and turned away in 
 an opposite direction ; while I, glad to be relieved of an 
 unsouglit-for companionship, returned alone to the town.
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE DINNEK. 
 
 It was with no peculiar pleasure that I dressed for our 
 dinner party. Major O'Shaughnessy, our host, was one of 
 that class of my countrymen I cared least for, — a riotous, 
 good-natured, noisy, loud-swearing, punch-drinking western ; 
 full of stories of impossible fox hunts, and unimaginable 
 duels, which all were acted either by himself or some mem- 
 ber of his family. The company consisted of the adjutant, 
 Monsoon, Ferguson, Trevyllian, and some eight or ten 
 officers with whom I was acquainted. As is usual on such 
 occasions, the wine circulated freely, and amidst the din and 
 clamor of excited conversation, the fumes of Burgundy, and 
 the vapor of cigar smoke, we most of us became speedily 
 mystified. As for me, my evil destiny would have it that I 
 was placed exactly opposite Trevyllian, with whom upon 
 more than one occasion I happened to differ in opinion, and 
 the question was in itself some trivial and unimportant one ; 
 yet the tone which he assumed, and of which, I too could 
 not divest myself in reply, boded anything rather than an 
 amicable feeling between us. The noise and turmoil about 
 prevented the others remarking the circumstance ; but I 
 could perceive in his manner what I deemed a studied deter- 
 mination to promote a quarrel, while I felt within myself a 
 most unchristian-like desire to indulge his fancy. 
 
 "Worse fellows at passing the bottle than Trevyllian and 
 O'Malley there I have rarely sojourned with," cried the 
 major ; " look if they have n't got eight decanters between 
 them, and here we are in a state of African thirst." 
 
 *' How can you expect him to think of thirst when such 
 perfumed billets as that come showering upon him ? " said 
 the adjutant, alluding to a rose-colored epistle a servant had 
 placed within my hands. 
 
 " Eight miles of a stone-wall country in fifteen minutes, 
 — devil a lie in it !" said O'Shaughnessy, striking the table
 
 330 CHi\.ELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 with his clinched fist; "show me the man would deny 
 it." 
 
 " Why, my dear fellow — " 
 
 *' Don't be dearing me. Is it ' no ' you '11 be saying me ? " 
 
 " Listen, now ; there 's O'Eeilly, there — " 
 
 <' Where is he ? " 
 
 " He 's under the table." 
 
 " Well, it 's the same thing. His mother had a fox — bad 
 luck to you, don't scald me with the jug — his mother had 
 a fox-cover in Shinrohan." 
 
 When O'Shaughnessy had got thus far in his narrative, 
 I had the opportunity of opening my note, which merely 
 contained the following words : " Come to the ball at the 
 Casino, and bring the Cadeau you promised." 
 
 I had scarcely read this over once, when a roar of laughter 
 at something said attracted my attention. I looked up, and 
 perceived Trevyllian's eyes bent upon me with the fierce- 
 ness of a tiger ; the veins in his forehead were swollen and 
 distorted, and the whole expression of his face betokened 
 rage and passion. Resolved no longer to submit to such 
 evident determination to insult, I was rising from my place 
 at table, when, as if anticipating my intention, he pushed 
 back his chair and left the room. Fearful of attracting atten- 
 tion by immediately following him, I affected to join in the 
 conversation around me, while my temples throbbed, and 
 my hands tingled with impatience to get away. 
 
 "Poor M'Manus," said O'Shaughnessy, "rest his soul! 
 he 'd have puzzled the bench of bishops for hard words. 
 Upon my conscience, I believe he spent his mornings look- 
 ing for them in the Old Testament. Sure ye might have 
 heard what happened to him at Banagher, when he com- 
 manded the Kilkennys, — ye never heard the story ? Well, 
 then, ye shall. Push the sherry along first, though, — old 
 Monsoon there always keeps it lingering beside his left arm. 
 
 " Well, when Peter was lieutenant-colonel of the Kil- 
 kennys, — who, I may remark, e?i passant, as the French 
 say, were the seediest-looking devils in the whole service, — 
 he never let them alone from morning till night, drilling and 
 ])ipe-claying and polishing them up. 'Nothing will make 
 soldiers of you,' said Peter , ' but, by the rock of Cashel !
 
 THE DINNER. 331 
 
 I '11 keep you as clean as a new musket ! ' Now, poor Peter 
 himself was not a very warlike figure, — lie measured five 
 feet one in his tallest boots ; but certainly if Nature denied 
 him length of stature, she compensated for it in another 
 way, by giving him a taste of the longest words in the 
 language. An extra syllable or so in a word was always a 
 strong recommendation ; and whenever he could not find one 
 to his mind, he 'd take some quaint, outlandish one that more 
 than once led to very awkward results. Well, the regiment 
 was one day draAvn up for parade in the town of Banagher, 
 and as M'Manus came down the lines he stopped opposite 
 one of the men whose face, hands, and accoutrements ex- 
 hibited a most woeful contempt of his orders. The fellow 
 looked more like a turf-stack than a light-company man. 
 
 " ' Stand out, sir ! ' cried M'Manus, in a boiling passion. 
 ' Sergeant O'Toole, inspect this individual.' Now, the 
 sergeant was rather a favorite with Mac ; for he always 
 pretended to understand his phraseology, and in consequence 
 was pronounced by the colonel a very superior man for his 
 station in life. ' Sergeant,' said he, ' we shall make an ex- 
 emplary illustration of our system here.' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' said the sergeant, sorely puzzled at the mean- 
 ing of what he spoke. 
 
 "'Bear him to the Shannon, and lave him there.' This 
 he said in a kind of Coriolanus tone, with a toss of his 
 head and a wave of his right arm, — signs, whenever he made 
 them, incontestibly showing that further parley was out of 
 the question, and that he had summed up and charged the 
 jury for good and all. 
 
 " ' Lave him in the river ? ' said O'Toole, his eyes starting 
 from the sockets, and his whole face working in strong 
 anxiety ; * is it lave him in the river yer honor means ? ' 
 
 " * I have spoken,' said the little man, bending an ominous 
 frown upon the sergeant, which, whatever construction he 
 may have put upon his words, there was no mistaking. 
 
 " ' Well, well, av it 's God's will he 's drowned, it will not 
 be on my head,' says O'Toole, as he marched the fellow away 
 between two rank and file. 
 
 " The parade was nearly over, when Mac happened to see 
 the sergeant coming up all splashed with water and looking 
 quite tired.
 
 332 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' Have you obeyed my orders ? ' said he. 
 
 " ' Yes, yer honor ; and tough work we had of it, for he 
 struggled hard/ 
 
 " * And where is he now ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh, troth, he 's there safe. Divil a fear he '11 get out.' 
 
 " ' Where ? ' said Mac. 
 
 " 'In the river, yer honor.' 
 
 " ' What have you done, you scoundrel ? ' 
 
 " * Did n't I do as you bid me ? ' says he ; ' did n't I throw 
 him in and lave [leave] him there ? ' 
 
 " And faith so they did ; and if he was n't a good swim- 
 mer and got over to Moystown, there 's little doubt but he 'd 
 have been drowned, and all because Peter M'Manus could 
 not express himself like a Christian." 
 
 In the laughter which followed O'Shaughnessy's story I 
 took the opportunity of making my escape from the party, 
 and succeeded in gaining the street unobserved. Though 
 the note I had just read was not signed, I had no doubt 
 from whom it came ; so I hastened at once to my quarters, 
 to make search for the lock of Ned Howard's hair to which 
 the senhora alluded. What was my mortification, however, 
 to discover that no such thing could be found anywhere. 
 I searched all my drawers ; I tossed about my papers and 
 letters ; I hunted every likely, every unlikely spot I could 
 think of, but in vain, — now cursing my carelessness for 
 having lost it, now swearing most solemnly to myself that 
 I never could have received it. What was to be done ? It 
 was already late ; my only thought was how to replace it. 
 If I only knew the color, any other lock of hair would, doubt- 
 less, do just as well. The chances were, as Howard was 
 young and an Englishman, that his hair was light ; light- 
 brown, probably, something like my own. Of course it was ; 
 why did n't that thought occur to me before ? How stupid I 
 was. So saying, I seized a pair of scissors, and cut a long 
 lock beside my temple ; this in a calm moment I might have 
 hesitated about. " Yes," thought I, " she '11 never discover 
 the cheat; and besides, I do feel, — I know not exactly 
 why, — rather gratified to tliink that I shall have left this 
 souvenir behind me, even though it call up other recollec- 
 tions than of me." So tliinking, I wrapped my cloak about 
 me and hastened towards the Casino.
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 THE ROUTE. 
 
 I HAD scarcely gone a hundred yards from my quarters 
 when a great tramp of horses' feet attracted my attention. 
 I stopped to listen, and soon heard the jingle of dragoon 
 accoutrements, as the noise came near. The night was dark 
 but perfectly still ; and before I stood many minutes I 
 heard the tones of a voice which I well knew could belong 
 to but one, and that Fred Power. 
 
 " Fred Power ! " said I, shouting at the same time at the 
 top of my voice, — " Power ! " 
 
 " Ah, Charley, is that you ? Come along to the adjutant- 
 general's quarters. I'm charged with some Important 
 despatches, and can't stop till 1 've delivered them. Come 
 along, I 've glorious news for you ! " So saying, he dashed 
 spurs to his horse, and followed by two mounted dragoons, 
 galloped past. Power's few and hurried words had so 
 excited my curiosity that I turned at once to follow him, 
 questioning myself, as I walked along, to what he could 
 possibly allude. He knew of my attachment to Lucy Dash- 
 wood, — could he mean anything of her ? But what could 
 I expect there ; by what flattery could I picture to myself 
 any chance of success in that quarter ; and yet, what other 
 news could I care for or value than what bore upon her fate 
 upon whom my own depended ? Thus ruminating, I reached 
 the door of the spacious building in which the adjutant- 
 general had taken up his abode, and soon found myself 
 among a crowd of persons whom the rumor of some impor- 
 tant event had assembled there, though no one could tell 
 what had occurred. Before many minutes the door opened, 
 and Power came out ; bowing hurriedly to a few, and whis- 
 pering a word or two as he passed down the steps, he seized 
 me by the arm and led me across the street. " Charley," 
 said he, "the curtain's rising; the piece is about to begin; 
 a new commander-in-chief is sent out, — Sir Arthur Wellesley,
 
 334 CHARLES O'M^VLLEY. 
 
 my boy, the finest fellow in England is to lead us on, and 
 we march to-morrow. There 's news for you ! " A raw boy, 
 unread, uninformed as I was, I knew but little of his career 
 whose name had even then shed such lustre upon our army ; 
 but the buoyant tone of Power as he spoke, the kmdling 
 energy of his voice roused me, and I felt every inch a soldier. 
 As I grasped his hand in delightful enthusiasm I lost all 
 memory of my disappointment, and in the beating throb 
 that shook my head, I felt how deeply slept the ardor of 
 military glory that first led me from my home to see a 
 battle-field. 
 
 " There goes the news ! " said Frederick, pointing as he 
 spoke to a rocket that shot up into the sky, and as it broke 
 into ten thousand stars, illuminated the broad stream where 
 the ships of war lay darkly resting. In another moment 
 the whole air shone with similar fires, while the deep roll 
 of the drum sounded along the silent streets, and the city 
 so lately sunk in sleep became, as if by magic, thronged 
 with crowds of people; the sharp clang of the cavalry 
 trumpet blended with the gay carol of the light-infantry 
 bugle, and the heavy tramp of the march was heard in the 
 distance. All was excitement, all bustle ; but in the joyous 
 tone of every voice was spoken the longing anxiety to 
 meet the enemy. The gay, reckless tone of an Irish song 
 would occasionally reach us, as some Connaught Ranger 
 r>r some 78th man passed, his knapsack on his back ; or 
 the low monotonous pibroch of the Highlander, swelling 
 into a war-cry, as some kilted corps drew up their ranks 
 together. We turned to regain our quarters, when at the 
 corner of a street we came suddenly upon a merry party 
 seated around a table before a little inn ; a large street lamp, 
 unhung for the occasion, had been placed in the midst of 
 them, and showed us the figures of several soldiers in un- 
 dress ; at the end, and raised a little above his compeers, 
 sat one whom, by the unfair proportion he assumed of the 
 conversation, not less than by the musical intonation of his 
 voice, I soon recognized as my man, Mickey Free. 
 
 " I '11 be hanged if that 's not your fellow there, Charley," 
 said Power, as he came to a dead stop a few yards off. 
 ''What an impertinent varlet he is; only to think of him 
 there, presiding among a set of fellows that have fought all
 
 THE ROUTE. 335 
 
 the battles in the Peninsular war. At this moment I '11 be 
 hanged if he is not going to sing." 
 
 Here a tremendous thumping upon the table announced 
 the fact, and after a few preliminary observations from 
 Mike, illustrative of his respect to the service in which he 
 had so often distinguished himself, he began, to the air of 
 the '' Young May Moon," a ditty of which I only recollect 
 the following verses : — 
 
 " The pickets are fast retreating, boys, 
 The last tattoo is beating, boys, 
 So let every man 
 Finish his can, 
 And drink to our next merry meeting, boys. 
 
 " The colonel so gayly prancing, boys, 
 Has a wonderful trick of advancing, boyg, 
 When he sings out so large, 
 * Fix bayonets and charge 1 ' 
 He sets all the Frenchmen a-dancing, boys, 
 
 " Let Mounseer look ever so big, my boys, 
 Who cares for fighting a iig, my boys ? 
 
 When we play ' Garryowen,* 
 
 He 'd rather go home ; 
 For somehow, he 's no taste for a jig, my boys." 
 
 This admirable lyric seemed to have perfect success, if 
 one were only to judge from the thundering of voices, 
 hands, and drinking vessels which followed ; while a ven- 
 erable, gray-haired sergeant rose to propose Mr. Free's 
 health, and speedy promotion to him. 
 
 We stood for several minutes in admiration of the 
 party, when the loud roll of the drums beating to arms 
 awakened us to the thought that our moments were 
 numbered. 
 
 " Good-night, Charley ! " said Power, as he shook my 
 hand warmly, " good-night ! It will be your last night 
 under a curtain for some months to come ; make the most 
 of it. Adieu ! " 
 
 So saying, we parted ; he to his quarters, and I to all the 
 confusion of my baggage, which lay in most admired 
 disorder about my room.
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE FAREWELL. 
 
 The preparations for the march occupied me till near 
 morning ; and, indeed, had I been disposed to sleep, the din 
 and clamor of the world without would have totally pre- 
 vented it. Before daybreak the advanced guard was already 
 in motion, and some squadrons of heavy cavalry had begun 
 their march. 
 
 I looked around my now dismantled room as one does 
 usually for the last time ere leaving, and bethought me if 
 I had not forgotten anything. Apparently all was remem- 
 bered ; but stay, — what is this ? To be sure, how forgetful 
 I had become ! It was the packet I destined for Donna 
 Inez, and which, in the confusion of the night before, I had 
 omitted to bring to the Casino. 
 
 I immediately despatched Mike to the commissary with 
 my higgage and orders to ascertain when we were ex- 
 pected to march. He soon returned with the intelligence 
 that our corps was not to move before noon , so that 
 I had yet some hours to spare and make my adieux to the 
 senhora. 
 
 I cannot exactly explain the reason, but I certainly did 
 bestow a more than common attention upon my toilet that 
 morning. The senhora was nothing to me. It is true she 
 had, as she lately most candidly informed me, a score of 
 admirers, among whom I was not even reckoned ; she was 
 evidently a coquette whose greatest pleasure was to sport 
 and amuse herse^.f with the passions she excited in others. 
 And even if she were not, — if her heart were to !^e won 
 to-morrow, — what claim, what right, had I to seek it ? My 
 affections were already pledged ; promised, it is true, to one 
 who gave nothing in return, and who, perhaps, even loved 
 another. Ah, there was the rub ; that one confounded 
 suspicion, lurking in the rear, chilled my courage and 
 wounded ray spirit.
 
 THE FAREWELL. 337 
 
 If there be anything more disheartening to an Irishman, 
 in his little affaires de cmur, than another, it is the sense of 
 rivalry. The obstinacy of fathers, the ill-will of mothers, 
 the coldness, the indifference of the lovely object herself, — 
 obstacles though they be, — he has tact, spirit, and perse- 
 verance to overcome them. But when a more successful 
 candidate for the fair presents himself; when the eye that 
 remains downcast at lils suit, lights up with animation at 
 another's coming ; when the features whose cold and chill- 
 ing apathy to him have blended in one smile of welcome to 
 another, — it is all up with him; he sees the game lost, and 
 chrows his cards upon the table. And yet, why is this ? 
 "Why is it that he whose birthright it would seem to be san- 
 guine when others despond, to be confident when all else 
 are hopeless, — should find his courage fail him here ? The 
 reason is simply — But, in good sooth, I am ashamed to 
 confess it ! 
 
 Having jogged on so far with my reader, in all the sober 
 seriousness which the matter-of-fact material of these me- 
 moirs demands, I fear lest a seeming paradox may cause me 
 to lose my good name for veracity ; and that while merely 
 maintaining a national trait of my country, I may appear to 
 be asserting some unheard-of and absurd proposition, — so 
 far have mere vulgar prejudices gone to sap our character 
 as a people. 
 
 The reason, then, is this, — for I have gone too far to 
 retreat, — the Irishman is essentially bashful. Well, laugh 
 if you wish, for I conclude that, by this time, you have 
 given way to a most immoderate excess of risibility , but 
 still, when you have perfectly recovered your composure, 
 '. beg to repeat, — the Irishman is essentially a bashful 
 man ! 
 
 Do not for a moment fancy that I would by this imply 
 that in any new or unexpected situation, that from any 
 unforeseen conjuncture of events, the Irishman would 
 feel confused or abashed, more than any other, — far from 
 it. The cold and habitual reserve of the Englishman, the 
 studied caution of the North Tweeder himself, would 
 exhibit far stronger evidences of awkwardness in such 
 circumstances as these. But on the other hand, when
 
 338 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 measuring his capacity, his means of success, his probabili- 
 ties of being preferred, with those of the natives of any 
 otlier country, I back the Irishman against the workl for 
 distrust of his own powers, for an under-estimate of his real 
 merits, — in one word, for his bashf ulness. But let us return 
 to Donna Inez. 
 
 As I rode up to the villa, I found the family assembled at 
 breakfast. Several officers were also present, among whom 
 I was not sorry to recognize my friend IVIonsoon. 
 
 " Ah, Charley ! " cried he, as T seated myself beside him, 
 " Avhat a pity all our fun is so soon to have an end ! Here 's 
 this confounded Soult won't be quiet and peaceable ; but he 
 must march upon Oporto, and Heaven knows where besides, 
 just as we were really beginning to enjoy life ! I had got 
 such a contract for blankets ! And now they 've ordered me 
 to join Beresford's corps in the mountains ; and you," 
 here he dropped his voice, — *' and you were getting on so 
 devilish well in this quarter ; upon my life, I think you 'd 
 have carried the day. Old Don Emanuel — you know he 's a 
 friend of mine — likes you very much. And then, there 's 
 Sparks — " 
 
 ''Ay, IMajor, what of him? I have not seen him for 
 some days." 
 
 '' Why, they 've been frightening the poor devil out of his 
 life, O'Shaughnessy and a set of them. They tried him by 
 court-martial yesterday, and sentenced him to mount guard 
 witli a wooden sword and a shooting jacket, which he did. 
 Old Colbourne, it seems, saw him ; and faith, there would 
 be the devil to pay if the route had not come ! Some of 
 them would certainly have got a long leave to see their 
 friends." 
 
 " Why is not the senhora here. Major ? I don't see her 
 at tabla." 
 
 " A cold, a sore throat, a wet-feet affair of last night, I 
 believe. Pass that cold pie down here. Sherry, if you 
 please. You did n't see Power to-day ? " 
 
 " No : we parted late last night ; I have not been to bed." 
 
 " Very bad preparation for a march ; take some burned 
 brandy in your coffee." 
 
 " Then you don't think the senhora will appear ? "
 
 THE FAREWELL. 330 
 
 "Very unlikely. But stay, you know her room, — the 
 small drawing-room that looks out upon the flower-garden ; 
 she usually passes the morning there. Leap the little 
 wooden paling round the corner, and the chances are ten 
 to one you find her." 
 
 I saw from the occupied air of Don Antonio that there 
 Avas little fear of interruption on his part; so taking an 
 early moment to escape unobserved, I rose and left the 
 room. When I sprang over the oak fence, I found myself 
 in a delicious little garden, where roses, grown to a height 
 never seen in our colder climate, formed a deep bower of 
 rich blossom. 
 
 The major was right. The senhora was in the room, and 
 in one moment I was beside her. 
 
 " Nothing but my fears of not bidding you farewell could 
 palliate my thus intruding. Donna Inez ; but as we are 
 ordered away — " 
 
 ''' When ? Kot so soon, surely ? " 
 
 '' Even so ; to-day, this very hour. But you see that even 
 in the hurry of departure, I have not forgotten my trust ; 
 this is the packet I promised you." 
 
 So saying, I placed the paper with the lock of hair within 
 her hand, and bending downwards, pressed my lips upon 
 her taper fingers. She hurriedly snatched her hand away, 
 and tearing open the enclosure, took out the lock. She 
 looked steadily for a moment at it, then at me, and again at 
 it, and at length, bursting into a fit of laughing, threw 
 herself upon a chair in a very ecstasy of mirth. 
 
 " Why, you don't mean to impose this auburn ringlet upon 
 me for one of poor Howard's jetty curls ? What downrigiit 
 folly to think of it ! And then, with how little taste the 
 deception was practised, — upon your very temples, too ! 
 One comfort is, you are utterly spoiled by it." 
 
 Here she again relapsed into a fit of laughter, leaving me 
 perfectly puzzled what to think of her, as she resumed : — 
 
 "Well, tell me now, am I to reckon this as a pledge of 
 your own allegiance, or am I still to believe it to be Edward 
 Howard's ? Speak, and truly." 
 
 "Of my own, most certainly," said I, "if it will be 
 accepted."
 
 340 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " Why, after such treachery, perhaps it ought not ; but 
 still, as you have already done yourself such injury, and 
 look so very silly, withal — " 
 
 "That you are even resolved to give me cause to look 
 more so," added I. 
 
 "Exactly," said she, "for here, now, I reinstate you 
 among my true and faithful admirers. Kneel down, Sir 
 Knight — in token of which you will wear this scarf — " 
 
 A sudden start which the donna gave at these words 
 brought me to my feet. She was pale as death and 
 trembling. 
 
 " What means this ? " said I. " What has happened ? " 
 
 She pointed with her finger towards the garden ; but 
 though her lips moved, no voice came forth, I sprang 
 through the open window ; I rushed into the copse, the 
 only one which might afford concealment for a figure, but 
 no one was there. After a few minutes' vain endeavor to 
 discover any trace of an intruder, I returned to the cham- 
 ber. The donna was there still, but how changed; her 
 gayety and animation were gone, her pale cheek and trem- 
 bling lip bespoke fear and suffering, and her cold hand lay 
 heavily beside her. 
 
 " I thought — perhaps it was merely fancy — but I thought 
 I saw Trevyllian beside the window." 
 
 " Impossible ! " said I. " I have searched every walk and 
 alley. It was nothing but imagination, — believe me, no 
 more. There, be assured ; think no more of it." 
 
 While I endeavored thus to reassure her, I was very far 
 from feeling perfectly at ease myself; the whole bearing 
 and conduct of this man had inspired me with a growing 
 dislike of him, and I felt already half-convinced that he had 
 established himself as a spy upon my actions. 
 
 "Then you really believe I was mistaken?" said the 
 donna, as she placed her hand within mine. 
 
 " Of course I do ; but speak no more of it. You must not 
 forget how few my moments are here. Already I have 
 heard the tramp of horses without. Ah ! there they are. 
 In a moment more I shall be missed ; so, once more, fairest 
 Inez — Nay, I beg pardon if I have dared to call you 
 thus ; but think, if it be the first it may also be the last 
 time I shall ever speak it."
 
 THE FAEEWELL. 341 
 
 Her head gently drooped, as I said these words, till it sank 
 upon my shouldei", her long and heavy hair falling upon my 
 neck and across my bosom. I felt her heart almost beat 
 against my side ; I muttered some words, I know not what ; 
 I felt them like a prayer ; I pressed her cold forehead to my 
 lips, rushed from the room, cleared the fence at a spring, 
 and was far upon the road to Lisbon ere I could sufficiently 
 collect my senses to know whither I was going. Of little 
 else was I conscious ; my mind was full to bursting ; and in 
 the confusion of my excited brain, fiction and reality were 
 so inextricably mingled as to defy every endeavor at dis- 
 crimination. But little time had I for reflection. As I 
 reached the city, the brigade to which I was attached was 
 already under arms, and Mike impatiently waiting my arrival 
 with the horses.
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 THE MARCH. 
 
 What a strange spectacle did the road to Oliveira present 
 upon the morning of the 7th of May ! A hurried or incau- 
 tious observer might, at first sight, have pronounced the long 
 line of troops which wended their way through the valley 
 as the remains of a broken and routed army, had not the 
 ardent expression and bright eye that beamed on every side 
 assured him that men who looked thus could not be beaten 
 ones. Horse, foot, baggage, artillery, dismounted dragoons, 
 even the pale and scarcely recovered inhabitants of the hos- 
 pital, might have been seen hurrying on ; for the order, 
 " Forward ! " had been given at Lisbon, and those whose 
 wounds did not permit their joining, were more pitied for 
 their loss than its cause. , More than one officer was seen at 
 the head of his troop with an arm in a sling, or a bandaged 
 forehead ; while among the men similar evidences of devo- 
 tion were not unfrequent. As for me, long years and many 
 reverses have not obliterated, scarcely blunted, the impres- 
 sion that sight made on me. The splendid spectacle of a 
 review had often excited and delighted me, but here there 
 Avas the glorious reality of war, — the bronzed faces, the 
 worn uniforms, the well-tattered flags, the roll of the heavy 
 guns mingling with the wild pibroch of the Highlander, or 
 scarcely less wild recklessness of the Irish quick-step ; while 
 the long line of cavalry, their helmets and accoutrements 
 sliining in the morning sun, brought back one's boyish 
 dreams of joust and tournament, and made the heart beat 
 high with chivalrous enthusiasm. 
 
 " Yes," said I, half aloud, " this is indeed a realization of 
 what I longed and thirsted for," the clang of the music and 
 the tramp of the cavalry responding to my throbbing pulses 
 as we moved along.
 
 TIIE MARCH. 343 
 
 " Close up, there ; trot ! " cried out a deep and manly 
 voice ; and immediately a general oflScer rode by, followed 
 by an aide-de-camp. 
 
 " There goes Cotton," said Power. " You may feel easy 
 in your mind now, Charley ; there 's some work before 
 us." 
 
 " You have not heard our destination ? " said I. 
 
 "Nothing is known for certain yet. The report goes, that 
 Soult is advancing upon Oporto ; and the chances are. Sir 
 Arthur intends to hasten on to its relief. Our fellows are 
 at Ovar, with General Murray." 
 
 "I say, Charley, old Monsoon is in a devil of a flurry. 
 He expected to have been peaceably settled down in Lisbon 
 for the next six months, and he has received orders to set 
 out for Beresford's headquarters immediately; and from 
 what I hear, they have no idle time." 
 
 " "Well, Sparks, how goes it, man ? Better fun this than 
 the cook's galley, eh ? " 
 
 "Why, do you know, these hurried movements put me 
 out confoundedly. I found Lisbon very interesting, — the 
 little I could see of it last night." 
 
 "Ah, my dear fellow, think of the lovely Andalusian 
 lasses with their brown transparent skins and liquid eyes. 
 Why, you 'd have been over head and ears in love in twenty- 
 four hours more, had we stayed." 
 
 " Are they really so pretty ? " 
 
 " Pretty ! downright lovely, man. Why, they have a way 
 of looking at you, over their fans, — just one glance, short 
 and fleeting, but so melting, by Jove — Then their walk, 
 — if it be not profane to call that springing, elastic gesture 
 by such a name, — why, it 's regular witchcraft. Sparks, 
 my man, I tremble for you. Do you know, by-the-bye, that 
 same pace of theirs is a devilish hard thing to learn. I 
 never could come it; and yet, somehow, I was formerly 
 rather a crack fellow at a ballet. Old Alberto used to select 
 me for a, -pas de zii^hyr among a host ; but there 's a kind of 
 a hop and a slide and a spring, — in fact you must have 
 been wearing petticoats for eighteen years, and have an 
 Andalusian instep and an india-rubber sole to your foot, 
 or it 's no use trying it. How I used to make them laugh
 
 344 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 at the old San Josef convent, formerly, by my efforts in the 
 cause ! " 
 
 " Why, how did it ever occur to you to practise it ? " 
 
 " Many a man's legs have saved his head, Charley, and I 
 put it to mine to do a similar office for me." 
 
 " True ; but I never heard of a man that performed a pas 
 seul before the enemy." 
 
 " Not exactly ; but still you 're not very wide of the mark. 
 If you '11 only Avait till Ave reach Pontalegue, I '11 tell you 
 the story ; not that it 's worth the delay, but talking at this 
 brisk pace I don't admire." 
 
 " You leave a detachment here. Captain Power," said an 
 aide-de-camp, riding hastily up ; " and General Cotton re- 
 quests you will send a subaltern and tAvo sergeants forward 
 towards Berar to reconnoitre the pass. Franchesca's cavalry 
 are reported in that quarter." So speaking, he dashed spurs 
 to his horse, and Avas out of sight in an instant. 
 
 PoAver, at the same moment, wheeled to the rear, from 
 Avhich he returned in an instant, accompanied by three Avell- 
 mounted light dragoons. '' Sparks," said he, '* now for an 
 occasion of distinguishing yourself. You heard the order, 
 lose no time ; and as your horse is an able one, and fresh, 
 lose not a second, but forward." 
 
 No sooner Avas Sparks despatched on what it was evident 
 he felt to be anything but a pleasant duty, than I turned 
 toAvards PoAver, and said, Avith some tinge of disappointment 
 in the tone, " Well, if you really felt there Avas anything 
 worth doing there, I flattered myself that — " 
 
 " Speak out man. That I should have sent you, eh ? Is 
 it not so ? " 
 
 " Yes, you 've hit it," 
 
 "Well, Charley, my peace is easily made on this head. 
 Why, I selected Sparks simply to spare yoii one of the most 
 un])leasant duties that can be imposed upon a man ; a duty 
 Avhich, let him discharge it to the uttermost, Avill ncA^er be 
 acknowledged, and the slightest failure in which Avill be re- 
 membered for many a day against him, besides the pleasant 
 and very probable prospect of being selected as a bull's eye 
 for a French rifle, or carried off a prisoner ; eh, Charley ? 
 There 's no glory iu that; devil a ray of it ! Come, come, old
 
 THE MARCH. 345 
 
 fellow, Fred Power 's not the man to keep his friend out of 
 the melee, if only anything can be made by being in it. Poor 
 Sparks, I 'd swear, is as little satisfied with the arrangement 
 as yourself, if one knew but all." 
 
 " I say. Power," said a tall, dashing-looking man of about 
 five-and-forty, with a Portuguese order on his breast, — "I 
 say, Power, dine with us at the halt." 
 
 " With pleasure, if I may bring my young friend here." 
 
 " Of course ; pray introduce us." 
 
 " Major Hixley; Mr. O'Malley, — a 14th man, Hixley." 
 
 " Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. O'Malley. 
 Knew a famous fellow in Ireland of your name, a certain 
 Godfrey O'^NIalley, member for some county or other." 
 
 " My uncle," said I, blushing deeply, with a pleasurable 
 feeling at even this slight praise of my oldest friend. 
 
 " Your uncle ! give me your hand. By Jove, his nephew 
 has a right to good treatment at my hands ; he saved my life 
 in the year '98. And how is old Godfrey ? " 
 
 " Quite well, when I left him some months ago ; a little 
 gout, now and then." 
 
 " To be sure he has, no man deserves it better ; but it 's a 
 gentlemanlike gout that merely jogs his memory in the 
 morning of the good wine he has drank over night. By-the- 
 bye, what became of a friend of his, a devilish eccentric 
 fellow who held a command in the Austrian service ? " 
 
 " Oh, Considine, the count ? " 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " As eccentric as ever ; I left him on a visit with my uncle. 
 And Boyle, — did you know Sir Harry Boyle ? " 
 
 '' To be sure I did ; shall I ever forget him, and his capital 
 blunders, that kept me laughing the whole time I spent in 
 Ireland ? I was in the house when he concluded a panegyric 
 upon a friend, by calling him, ' the father to the poor, and 
 uncle to Lord Donoughmore.' " 
 
 " He was the only man who could render by a bull what 
 it was impossible to convey more correctly," said Power. 
 " You 've heard of his duel with Dick Toler ? " 
 
 " Xever ; let 's hear it." 
 
 " It was a bull from beginning to end. Boyle took it into 
 his head that Dick was a person with whom he had a serious
 
 o46 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 row ill Cork. Dick, on the other hand, mistook Boyle for 
 old Caples, whom he had been pursuing with horse-whipping 
 intentions for some months. They met in Kildare Street 
 Club, and very little colloquy satisfied them that they were 
 right in their conjectures, each party being so eagerly ready 
 to meet the views of the other. It never was a difficult 
 matter to find a friend in Dublin ; and to do them justice, 
 Irish seconds, generally speaking, are perfectly free from 
 any imputation upon the score of mere delay. Ko men have 
 less impertinent curiosity as to the cause of the quarrel ; 
 wisely supposing that the principals know their own affairs 
 best, they cautiously abstain from indulging any prying 
 spirit, but proceed to discharge their functions as best they 
 may. Accordingly, Sir Harry and Dick were ' set up,' as 
 the phrase is, at twelve paces, and to use Boyle's own words, 
 for I have heard him relate the story, — 
 
 "We blazed away, sir, for three rounds. I put two in 
 his hat and one in his neckcloth ; his shots went all through 
 the skirt of my coat. 
 
 " ' AVe '11 spend the day here,' says Considine, ' at this 
 rate. Could n't you put them closer ? ' 
 
 " ' And give us a little more time in the word,' says I. 
 
 « ' Exactly,' said Dick. 
 
 " Well, they moved us forward two paces, and set to load- 
 ing the pistols again. 
 
 " By this time we were so near that we had full opportu- 
 nity to scan each other's faces. Well, sir, I stared at him, 
 and he at me. 
 
 "'What!' said I. 
 
 "'Eh!' said he. 
 
 " ' How 's this ? ' said I. 
 
 " ' You 'rs not Billy Caples ? ' said he. 
 
 " ' Devil a bit ! ' said I, * nor I don't think you are Archy 
 Devine ; ' and faith, sir, so it appeared, we were fighting 
 away all the morning for nothing ; for, somehow, it turned 
 out it was neither of us ! " 
 
 What amused me most in this anecdote was the hearing it 
 at such a time and place. That poor Sir Harry's eccentrici- 
 ties should turn up for discussion on a marcli in Portugal 
 was singular enough ; but after all, life is full of such iu-
 
 THE MARCH. 347 
 
 congruous accidents. I remember once supping with King 
 Calzoo on the Bhie Mountains, in Jamaica. By way of en- 
 tertaining his guests, some English officers, he ordered one 
 of his suite to sing. We were of course pleased at the 
 opportunity of hearing an Indian war-chant, with a skull 
 and thigh-bone accompaniment ; but what was our astonish- 
 ment to hear the Indian, — a ferocious-looking dog, with an 
 awful scalp-lock, and two streaks of red paint across his 
 chest, — clear his voice well for a few seconds, and then 
 begin, without discomposing a muscle of his gravity, " The 
 Laird of Cockpen ! " I need not say that the " Great Raccoon " 
 was a Dumfries man who had quitted Scotland forty years 
 before, and with characteristic prosperity had attained his 
 present rank in a foreign service. 
 
 " Halt ! halt ! " cried a deep-toned, manly voice in the 
 leading column, and the word was repeated from mouth 
 to mouth to the rear. 
 
 We dismounted, and picketing our horses beneath the 
 broad-leaved foliage of the cork-trees, stretched ourselves 
 out at full length upon the grass, while our messmen pre- 
 pared the dinner. Our party at first consisted of Hixley, 
 Power, the adjutant, and myself ; but our number was soon 
 increased by three officers of the 6th Foot, about to join 
 their regiment. 
 
 " Barring the ladies, God bless them ! " said Power, " there 
 are no such picnics as campaigning presents. The charms of 
 scenery are greatly enhanced by their coming unexpectedly 
 on you. Your chance good fortune in the prog has an in- 
 terest that no ham-and-cold-chicken affair, prepared by yonr 
 servants beforehand, and got ready with a degree of fuss 
 and worry that converts the whole party into an assembly 
 of cooks, can ever afford ; and lastly, the excitement that 
 this same life of ours is never without, gives a zest — " 
 
 " There you 've hit it," cried Hixley ; " it 's that same feel- 
 ing of uncertainty that those who meet now may ever do so 
 again, full as it is of sorrowful reflection, that still teaches 
 us, as Ave become inured to war, to economize our pleasures, 
 and be happy when we may. Your health, O'Malley, and 
 your uncle Godfrey's too." 
 
 " A little more of the pastry."
 
 348 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " What a capital guinea fowl this is ! " 
 
 " Tliat 's some of old Monsoon's particular port." 
 
 " Pass it round here. Keally this is pleasant." 
 
 " My blessing on the man wlio left that vista yonder ! 
 See what a glorious valley stretches out there, undulating 
 in its richness ; and look at those dark trees, where just one 
 streak of soft sunlight is kissing their tops, giving them 
 one chaste good-night — " 
 
 " Well done. Power ! " 
 
 " Confound you, you 've pulled me short, and I was about 
 becoming downright pastoral. Apropos of kissing, I under- 
 stand Sir Arthur won't allow the convents to be occupied 
 by troops." 
 
 " And apropos of convents," said I, " let 's hear your story ; 
 you promised it a while ago." 
 
 *•' My dear Charley, it 's far too early in the evening for a 
 story. I should rather indulge my poetic fancies here, under 
 the shade of melancholy boughs ; and besides, I am not half 
 screwed up yet." 
 
 " Come, Adjutant, let's have a song." 
 
 " I '11 sing you a Portuguese serenade when the next bot- 
 tle comes in. What capital port ! Have you much of it ? " 
 
 " Only three dozen. We got it late last night ; forged an 
 order from the commanding officer and sent it up to old 
 jMonsoon, — ' for hospital use.' He gave it with a tear in 
 his eye, saying, as the sergeant marched away, ' Only think 
 of svich wine for fellows that may be in the next world 
 before morning ! It 's a downright sin ! ' " 
 
 " I say. Power, there 's something going on there." 
 
 At this instant the trumpet sounded "boot and saddle," 
 and like one man the whole mass rose up, when the scene, 
 late so tranquil, became one of excited bustle and confusion. 
 An aide-de-camp galloped past towards the river, followed 
 by two orderly sergeants ; and the next moment Sparks rode 
 up, his whole equipment giving evidence of a hurried ride, 
 while his cheek was deadly pale and haggard. 
 
 Power presented to him a goblet of sherry, which, having 
 emptied at a draught, he drew a long breath, and said, " They 
 are coming, — coming in force ! " 
 
 " Who are coming ? " said Power. " Take time, man, and 
 collect yourself."
 
 THE MARCH. 349 
 
 " The French ! I saw them a devilish deal closer than I 
 liked. They wounded one of the orderlies and took the other 
 prisoner." 
 
 " Forward ! " said a hoarse voice in the front. " March ! 
 trot ! " And before we could obtain any further information 
 from Sparks, whose faculties seemed to have received a ter- 
 rific shock, we were once more in the saddle, and moving at 
 a brisk pace onward. 
 
 Sparks had barely time to tell us that a large body of 
 French cavalry occupied the pass of Berar, when he was 
 sent for by General Cotton to finish his report. 
 
 " How frightened the fellow is ! " said Hixley. 
 
 " I don't think the worse of poor Sparks for all that," 
 said Power. " He saw those fellows for the first time, and 
 no bird's-eye view of them either." 
 
 " Then we are in for a skirmish, at least," said I. 
 
 " It would appear not, from that," said Hixley, pointing 
 to the head of the column, which, leaving the high road upon 
 the left, entered the forest by a deep cleft that opened upon 
 a valley traversed by a broad river. 
 
 " That looks very like taking up a position, though," said 
 Power. 
 
 " Look, — look down yonder ! " cried Hixley, pointing to 
 a dip in the plain beside the river. '' Is there not a cavalry 
 picket there ? " 
 
 " Eight, by Jove ! I say, Fitzroy," said Power to an aide- 
 de-camp as he passed, " what 's going on ? " 
 
 " Soult has carried Oporto," cried he, " and Franchesca's 
 cavalry have escaped." 
 
 " And who are these fellows in the valley ? " 
 
 " Our own people coming up." 
 
 In less than half an hour's brisk trotting we reached the 
 stream, the banks of which were occupied by two cavalry 
 regiments advancing to the main army ; and what was my 
 delight to find that one of them was our own corps, the 
 l-Ith Light Dragoons ! 
 
 " Hurra ! " cried Power, waving his cap as he came up. 
 " How are you, Sedgewick ? Baker, my hearty, how goes 
 it ? How is Hampton and the colonel ? " 
 
 In an instant we were surrounded by our brother officers,
 
 t350 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 wlio all sliook me cordially by the hand, and welcomed me 
 to the regiment with most gratifying warmth. 
 
 *' One of us," said Power, with a knowing look, as he intro- 
 duced me ; and the freemasonry of these few words secured 
 me a hearty greeting. 
 
 " Halt ! halt ! Dismount ! " sounded again from front to 
 rear ; and in a few minutes we were once more stretched 
 upon the grass, beneath the deep and mellow moonlight, 
 while the bright stream ran placidly beside us, reflecting 
 on its calm surface the varied groups as they lounged or 
 sat around the blazing fires of the bivouac.
 
 CHAPTER XLIV.. 
 
 THE BIVOUAC. 
 
 When- I contrasted the gay and lively tone of the con- 
 versation which ran on around our bivouac fire, with the 
 dry monotony and prosaic tediousness of my first military 
 dinner at Cork, I felt how much the spirit and adventure 
 of a soldier's life can impart of chivalrous enthusiasm to 
 even the dullest and least susceptible. I saw even many 
 who under common circumstances would have possessed no 
 interest nor excited any curiosity, but now, connected as 
 they were with the great events occurring around them, 
 absolutely became heroes ; and it was with a strange, wild 
 throbbing of excitement I listened to the details of move- 
 ments and marches, whose objects I knew not, but in which 
 tlie magical words, Corunna, Yimeira, were mixed up, and 
 gave to the circumstances an interest of the highest char- 
 acter. How proud, too, I felt to be the companion-in-arms 
 of such fellows ! Here they sat, the tried and proved sol- 
 diers of a hundred fights, treating me as their brother and 
 their equal. Who need wonder if I felt a sense of excited 
 pleasure ? Had I needed such a stimulant, that night be- 
 neath the cork-trees had been enough to arouse a passion 
 for the army in my heart, and an irrepressible determination 
 to seek for a soldier's glory. 
 
 " Fourteenth ! " called out a voice from the wood behind ; 
 and in a moment after, the aide-de-camp appeared with a 
 mounted orderly. 
 
 " Colonel Merivale ? " said he, touching his cap to the 
 stalwart, soldier-like figure before him. 
 
 The colonel bowed. 
 
 *^ Sir Stapleton Cotton desires me to request that at an 
 early hoiir to-morrow you will occupy the pass, and cover 
 the march of the troops. It is his wish that all the rein- 
 forcements should arrive at Oporto by noon. I need scarcely 
 add that we expect to be engaged with the enemy."
 
 352 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 These few words were spoken hurriedly, and again sa- 
 luting our party, he turned his horse's head and continued 
 liis way towards the rear. 
 
 " There 's news for you, Charley," said Power, slapping me 
 on the shoulder. " Lucy Dashwood or Westminster Abbey ! " 
 
 " The regiment was never in finer condition, that 's cer- 
 tain," said the colonel, "and most eager for a brush with 
 the enemy." 
 
 " How your old friend, the count, would have liked this 
 work ! " said Hixley. " Gallant fellow he was." 
 
 " Come," cried Power, " here 's a fresh bowl coming. Let 's 
 drink the ladies, wherever they be ; we most of us have some 
 soft spot on that score." 
 
 " Yes," said the adjutant, singing, — 
 
 " Here's to the maiden of lihTshing fifteen ; 
 Here 's to the damsel tliat 's merry; 
 Here 's to the flaunting extravagant quean — " 
 
 "And," sang Power, interrupting, — 
 
 " Here 's to the ' Widow of Derry.' " 
 
 " Come, come, Fred, no more quizzing on that score. It 's 
 the only thing ever gives me a distaste to the service, — the 
 souvenir of that adventure. When I reflect what I might 
 have been, and think what I am ; when I contrast a Brus- 
 sels carpet wdth wet grass, silk hangings with a canvas tent, 
 Sneyd's claret with ration brandy, and Sir Arthur for a 
 Commander-in-Chief vice Boggs, a widow — " 
 
 " Stop there ! " cried Hixley. " Without disparaging the 
 fair widow, there 's nothing beats campaigning, after all. 
 Eh, Pred ? " 
 
 "And to prove it," said the colonel, "Power Avill sing us 
 a song." 
 
 Power took his pencil from his pocket, and placing the 
 back of a letter across his shako, commenced inditing his 
 lyric, saying, as he did so, " I 'm your man in five minutes. 
 Just fill my glass in the mean time." 
 
 " That fellow beats Dibdin hollow," whispered the adju- 
 tant. " I '11 be hanged if he '11 not knock you off a song like 
 li^fhtning."
 
 THE BIVOUAC. 353 
 
 " I understand," said Hixley, " they have some intention 
 at the Horse Guards of having all the general orders set 
 to popular tunes, and sung at every mess in the service. 
 You've heard that, I suppose, Sparks?" 
 
 " I confess I had not before." 
 
 " It will certainly come very hard upon the subalterns," 
 continued Hixley, with much gravity. "They'll have to 
 brush up their sol mi fas. All the solos are to be their 
 part." 
 
 " What rhymes with slaughter ? " said Power. 
 
 " Brandy-and-water," said the adjutant. 
 
 " ]^ow, then," said Power, " are you all ready ? " 
 
 " Ready." 
 
 " You must chorus, mind ; and mark me, take care you 
 give the hip-hip-hurra well, as that 's the whole force of the 
 chant. Take the time from me. Now for it. Air, * Garry- 
 owen/ with spirit, but not too quick. 
 
 " Now that we 've pledged each eye of blue, 
 And every maiden fair and true, 
 And our green island home, — to you 
 
 The ocean's wave' adorning, 
 Let 's give one Hip-hip-hip-hurra ! 
 And drink e'en to the coming day, 
 When, S(]^uadron square, 
 We '11 all be there, 
 To meet the French in the morning. 
 
 ** May his bright laurels never fade, 
 Who leads our fighting fifth brigade, 
 Those lads so true in heart and blade, 
 
 And famed for danger scorning. 
 So join me in one Hip-hurra ! 
 And drink e'en to the coming day, 
 When, squadron square, 
 We '11 all be there. 
 To meet the French in the morning. 
 
 " And when with years and honors crowTied, 
 You sit some homeward hearth around, 
 And hear no more the stirring sound 
 
 That spoke the trumpet's warning, 
 VOL. I. — 23
 
 354 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 You '11 fill and drink, one Hip-hurra! 
 And pledge the niemory of the day, 
 
 When, squadron square, 
 
 They all were there. 
 To meet the French in the morning." 
 
 " Gloriously done, Fred ! " cried Hixley. " If I ever get 
 my deserts in this world, I'll make you Laureate to the 
 Forces, with a hogshead of your own native whiskey for 
 every victory of the army." 
 
 " A devilish good chant," said Merivale, " but the air sur- 
 passes anything I ever heard, — thoroughly Irish, I take it." 
 
 " Irish ! upon my conscience, I believe you ! " shouted 
 O'Shaughnessy, with an energy of voice and manner that 
 created a heai-ty laugh on all sides. " It 's few people ever 
 mistook it for a Venetian melody. Hand over the punch, — 
 the sherry, I mean. When I was in the Clare militia, we 
 always went in to dinner to ' Tatter Jack Walsh,' a sweet 
 air, and had ' Garryowen' for a quick-step. Ould M'Manus, 
 when he got the regiment, wanted to change : he said, they 
 were damned vulgar tunes, and wanted to have ' Rule Bri- 
 tannia,' or the * Hundredth Psalm ; ' biit we would not stand 
 it ; there would have been a mutiny in the corps." 
 
 "The same fellow, was n't he, that you told the story of, 
 the other evening, in Lisbon? " said I. 
 
 " The same. Well, what a character he was ! As pom 
 pons and conceited a little fellow as ever you met with; 
 and then, he was so bullied by his wife, he always came 
 down to revenge it on the regiment. She was a fine, showy, 
 vulgar woman, with a most cherishing affection for all the 
 good things in this life, except her huslsand, whom she 
 certainly held in due contempt. ' Ye little crayture,' she 'd 
 say to him with a sneer, * it ill becomes you to drink and 
 sing, and be making a man of yourself. If you were like 
 O'Shaughnessy there, six foot three in his stockings — ' 
 Well, well, it looks like boasting ; but no matter. Here 's 
 her health, anyway." 
 
 " I knew you were tender in that quarter," said Power, 
 " I heard it when quartered in Limerick." 
 
 "May be you heard, too, how I paid off Mac, when he 
 came down on a visit to that county ? "
 
 THE BIVOUAC. 355 
 
 ** Never : let 's hear it now." 
 
 '' Ay, O'Shauglinessy, now 's your time ; tlie fire 's a good 
 one, the night fine, and liquor plenty." 
 
 " 1 'm convanient,'" said O'Shaughnessy, as depositing his 
 enormous legs on each side of the burning fagots, and 
 placing a bottle between his knees he began his story : — 
 
 " It was a cold rainy night in January, in the year '98, I 
 took my place in the Limerick mail, to go down for a few 
 days to the west country. As the waiter of the Hibernian 
 came to the door with a lantern, I just caught a glimpse of 
 the other insides ; none of whom were known to me, except 
 Colonel M'Manus, that I met once in a boarding-house in 
 Molesworth Street. I did not, at the time, think him a 
 very agreeable companion ; but when morning broke, and. 
 we began to pay our respects to each other in the coach, 
 I leaned over, and said, 'I hope you're well, Colonel 
 M'Manus,' just by way of civility like. He did n't hear me 
 at first ; so that I said it again, a little louder. 
 
 " I wish you saw the look he gave me ; he drew himself 
 up to the height of his cotton umbrella, put his chin inside 
 his cravat, pursed up his dry, shrivelled lips, and with a 
 voice he meant to be awful, replied : — 
 
 "'You appear to have the advantage of me.' 
 
 " ' Upon my conscience, you 're right,' said I, looking 
 down at myself, and then over at him, at which the other 
 travellers burst out a laughing, — ' I think there 's few will 
 dispute that point.' When the laugh was over, I resumed, 
 — for I was determined not to let him off so easily. ' Sure 
 I met you at Mrs. Cayle's,' said I ; ' and, by the same token, 
 it was a Friday, I remember it well, — may be you did n't 
 pitch into the salt cod ? I hope it did n't disagree with 
 you?' 
 
 "'I beg to repeat, sir, that you are under a mistake,' 
 said he. 
 
 " ' May be so, indeed,' said I. ' May be you 're not Colonel 
 M'Manus at all ; ma^" be you was n't in a passion for losing 
 seven-and-sixpence at loo with Mrs. Moriarty ; may be you 
 did n't break the lamp in the hall with your umbrella, pre- 
 tending you touched it with your head, and was n't within 
 three foot of it ; may be Counsellor Brady was n't going to
 
 356 CHARLES O'M.ULLEY, 
 
 I^ut you in the ,box of the Foundling Hospital, if you 
 would n't behave quietly in the streets — ' 
 
 " Well, with this the others lau,':^hed so heartily, that I 
 could not go on ; and the next stage the bold colonel got 
 outside Avith the guard and never came in till we reached 
 Limerick. I '11 never forget his face, as he got down at 
 Swinburne's Hotel. * Good-by, Colonel,' said I ; but he 
 would n't take the least notice of my politeness, but wdth a 
 frown of utter defiance, he turned on his heel and walked 
 away. 
 
 " ' I have n't done with you yet,' says I ; and, faith, I 
 kept my word. 
 
 ''I hadn't gone ten yards down the street, when I met 
 my old friend Darby 0' Grady. 
 
 " ' Shaugh, my boy,' says he, — he called me that way for 
 shortness, — ' dine with me to-day at Mosey's ; a green 
 goose and gooseberries ; six to a minute.' 
 
 " * Who have you ? ' says I. 
 
 " ' Tom Keane and the Wallers, a counsellor or two, and 
 one M'Manus, from Dublin.' 
 
 " ' The colonel ? ' 
 
 " ' The same,' said he. 
 
 " ' I 'm there. Darby ! ' said I ; ' but mind, you never saw 
 me before.' 
 
 " ' What ? ' said he. 
 
 " ' You never set eyes on me before ; mind that.' 
 
 " ' I understand,' said Darby, with a wink ; and we parted. 
 
 " I certainly was never very particular about dressing for 
 dinner, but on this day I spent a considerable time at my 
 toilet ; and when I looked in my glass at its completion, 
 was well satisfied that I had done myself justice. A waist- 
 coat of brown rabbit-skin with flaps, a red worsted com- 
 forter round my neck, an old gray shooting-jacket with a 
 brown patch on the arm, corduroys, and leather gaiters, with 
 a tremendous oak cudgel in my hand, made me a most j^re- 
 sentable figure for a dinner party. 
 
 " ' Will I do. Darby ? ' says I, as he came into my room 
 before dinner. 
 
 " *If it 's for robbing the mail you are,' says he, 'nothing 
 could be better. Your father would n't know you 1 '
 
 THE BIVOUAC. 357 
 
 '^ 'Would I be the better of a wig ? ' 
 
 " ' Leave your bair alone,' said be. ' It 's painting tbe 
 lily to alter it.' 
 
 " ' Well, God's will be done,' says I, ' so come now.' 
 
 "Well, just as tbe clock struck six I saw tbe colonel 
 coming out of bis room, in a suit of most accurate sable, 
 stockings, and pumps. Down-stairs be went, and I beard 
 tbe waiter announce bim. 
 
 " ' Now 's my time/ tbougbt I, as I followed slowly 
 after. 
 
 " Wben I reached tbe door I beard several voices within, 
 among which I recognized some ladies. Darby bad not told 
 me about them. ' But no matter,' said I ; ' it 's all as well ; ' 
 so I gave a gentle tap at the door with my knuckles. 
 
 " ' Come in,' said Darby. 
 
 " I opened tbe door slowly, and putting in only my bead 
 and shoulders took a cautious look round tbe room. 
 
 " ' I beg pardon, gentlemen,' said I, ' but I was only look- 
 ing for one Colonel M'Manus, and as he is not here — ' 
 
 "'Pray walk in, sir,' said O'Grady, with a polite bow. 
 ' Colonel M'Manus is here. There 's no intrusion whatever. 
 I say. Colonel,' said he turning round, ' a gentleman here 
 desires to — ' 
 
 " ' Never mind it now,' said I, as I stepped cautiously 
 into the room, ' he 's going to dinner ; another time will do 
 just as well.' 
 
 " ' Pray come in ! ' 
 
 " * I could not think of intruding — ' 
 
 " ' I must protest,' said M'Manus, coloring up, ' that I 
 cannot understand this gentleman's visit.' 
 
 " 'It is a little affair I have to settle with him,' said I, 
 Avith a fierce look that I saw produced its effect. 
 
 " ' Then perhaps you would do me tbe very great favor 
 to join bim at dinner,' said O'Grady. 'An}^ friend of 
 Colonel M'Manus — ' 
 
 " ' You are really too good,' said I ; ' but as an utter 
 stranger — ' 
 
 " ' Never think of that for a moment. My friend's friend, 
 as the adage says.' 
 
 " ' Upon my conscience, a good saying,' said I, ' but you
 
 358 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 see there 's another difficulty. I 've ordered a chop and 
 potatoes vip in No. 5.' 
 
 " < Let that be no obstacle,' said O'Grady. ' The waiter 
 shall put it in my bill ; if you will only do me the pleasure.' 
 
 " ' You 're a trump,' said I. ' What 's your name ? ' 
 
 " ' O'Grady, at your service.' 
 
 " ' Any relation of the counsellor ? ' said I. ' They 're all 
 one family, the O'Gradys. I 'm Mr. O'Shaughnessy, from 
 Enuis ; won't you introduce me to the ladies ? ' 
 
 "While the ceremony of presentation was going on I 
 caught one glance at M'Manus, and had hard work not to 
 roar out laughing. Such an expression of surprise, amaze- 
 ment, indignation, rage, and misery never was mixed up in 
 one face before. Speak he could not ; and I saw that, ex- 
 cept for myself, he had neither eyes, ears, nor senses for 
 anything around him. Just at this moment dinner was 
 announced, and in we went. I never was in such spirits in 
 my life ; the trick upon M'Manus had succeeded perfectly ; 
 he believed in his heart that I had never met O'Grady in my 
 life before, and that upon the faith of our friendship, I had 
 received my invitation. As for me, I spared him but little. 
 I kept up a running fire of droll stories, had the ladies in 
 fits of laughing, made everlasting allusions to the colonel ; 
 and, in a word, ere the soup had disappeared, except him- 
 self, the company was entirely with me. 
 
 " ' O'Grady,' said I, * forgive the freedom, but I feel as if 
 we were old acquaintances.' 
 
 " ' As Colonel M'Manus's friend,' said he, ' you can take 
 no liberty here to which you are not perfectly welcome.' 
 
 " ' Just what I expected,' said I. ' Mac and I,' — I wish 
 you saw his face when I called him Mac, — ' jVIac and I 
 were schoolfellows five-and-thirty years ago ; though he 
 forgets me, I don't forget him, — to be sure it would be hard 
 for me. I 'm just thinking of the day Bishop Oulahan 
 came over to visit the college. Mac was coming in at the 
 door of the refectory as the bishop was going out. " Take 
 off your caubeen, you young scoundrel, and kneel down for 
 his reverence to bless you," said one of the masters, giving 
 his hat a blow at the same moment that sent it flying to 
 the other end of the room, and with it, about twenty ripe
 
 THE BIVOUAC. 
 
 559 
 
 pears that Mac had just stolen in the orchard, and had in 
 his hat. I wish you only saw the bishop ; and Mac him- 
 self, he was a picture. Well, well, you forget it all now, 
 but I remember it as if it was only yesterday. Any cham- 
 pagne, Mr. O'Grady ? I 'm mighty dry.' 
 
 " * Of course,' said Darby. ' Waiter, some champagne 
 here.' 
 
 " ' Ah, it 's himself was the boy for every kind of fun 
 
 and devilment, quiet and demure as he looks over there. 
 Mac, your health. It 's not every day of the week we get 
 champagne.' 
 
 " He laid down his knife and fork as I said this ; his face 
 and temples grew deep purple ; his eyes started as if they 
 would spring from his head ; and he put both his hands to 
 his forehead, as if trying to assure himself that it was not 
 some horrid dream. 
 
 '••'A little slice more of the turkey,' said I, 'and then,
 
 S60 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 O'Grady, I '11 try your hock. It 's a wine I 'm miglity fond 
 of, and so is INIac there. Oh, it 's seldom, to tell you the 
 truth, it troubles us. There, fill up the glass ; that 's it. 
 Here now, Darby, — that 's your name, I think, — you '11 not 
 think I 'm taking a liberty in giving a toast ? Here then, 
 I '11 give M'Manus's health, with all the honors ; though 
 it 's early yet, to be sure, but we '11 do it again, by-and-by, 
 when the whiskey comes. Here 's M'Manus's good health ; 
 and though his wife, they say, does not treat him well, and 
 keeps him down — ' 
 
 "The roar of laughing that interrupted me here was 
 produced by the expression of poor Mac's face. He had 
 started up from the table, and leaning with both his hands 
 upon it, stared round upon the company like a maniac, — 
 his mouth and eyes wide open, and his hair actually brist- 
 ling with amazement. Thus he remained for a full minute, 
 gasping like a fish in a landing-net. It seemed a hard 
 struggle for him to believe he was not deranged. At last 
 his eyes fell upon me ; he uttered a deeji groan, and with a 
 voice tremulous with rage, thundered out, — 
 
 " ' The scoundrel ! I never saw him before.' 
 
 " He rushed from the room, and gained the street. Be- 
 fore our roar of laughter was over he had secured post- 
 horses, and was galloping towards Ennis at the top speed 
 of his cattle, 
 
 " He exchanged at once into the line ; but they say that he 
 caught a glimpse of my name in the army list, and sold out 
 the next morning ; be that as it may, we never met since." 
 
 I have related O'Shaughnessy's story here, rather from the 
 memory I have of how we all laughed at it at the time, than 
 from any feeling as to its real desert ; but when I think of 
 the voice, look, accent, and gesture of the narrator, I can 
 scarcely keep myself from again giving way to laughter.
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 THE DOURO. 
 
 Xk\'er did the morning break more beautifully than on 
 the 12th of May, 1809. Huge masses of fog-like vapor had 
 succeeded to the starry, cloudless night, but one by one, 
 they moved onwards towards the sea, disclosing as they 
 passed long tracts of lovely country, bathed in a rich 
 golden glow. The broad Douro, with its transparent cur- 
 rent, shone out like a bright-colored ribbon, meandering 
 through the deep garment of fairest green ; the darkly 
 shadowed mountains which closed the background loomed 
 even larger than they were ; while their summits were 
 tipped with the yellow glory of the morning. The air 
 was calm and still, and the very smoke that arose from the 
 peasant's cot labored as it ascended through the perfumed 
 air, and save the ripple of the stream, all was silent as the 
 grave. 
 
 The squadron of the 14th, with which I was, had diverged 
 from the road beside the river, and to obtain a shorter path, 
 had entered the skirts of a dark pine wood ; our pace was 
 a sharp one ; an orderly had been already despatched to 
 hasten our arrival, and we pressed on at a brisk trot. In 
 less than an hour we reached the verge of the wood, and 
 as we rode out upon the plain, what a spectacle met our 
 eyes ! Before us, in a narrow valley separated from the 
 river by a low ridge, were picketed three cavalry regi- 
 ments ; their noiseless gestures and perfect stillness be- 
 speaking at once that they were intended for a surprise 
 party. Farther down the stream, and upon the opposite 
 side, rose the massive towers and tall spires of Oporto, 
 displaying from their summits the broad ensign of France ; 
 while far as the eye could reach, the broad dark masses of 
 troops might be seen ; the intervals between their columns 
 glittering with the bright equipments of their cavalry,
 
 3G2 CHARLES O'aiALLEY. 
 
 whose steel caps and lances were sparkling in the sun- 
 beams. The bivouac hres were still smouldering, and mark- 
 ing where some part of the army had passed the night ; for 
 early as it was, it was evident that their position had been 
 changed ; and even now, the heavy masses of dark infantry 
 might be seen moving from place to place, while the long 
 line of the road to Vallonga was marked with a vast cloud 
 of dust. The Frencli drum and the light infantry bugle 
 told, from time to time, that orders were passing among the 
 troops ; while the glittering uniform of a staff officer, as he 
 galloped from the town, bespoke the note of preparation. 
 
 " Dismount ! Steady ; quietly, my lads," said the colonel, 
 as he alighted upon the grass. '' Let the men have their 
 breakfast." 
 
 The little amphitheatre we occupied hid us entirely from 
 all observation on the part of the enemy, but equally so 
 excluded us from perceiving their movements. It may 
 readily be supposed then, with what impatience we waited 
 here, while the din and clangor of the French force, as 
 they marched and countermarched so near us, were clearly 
 audible. The orders were, however, strict that none should 
 approach the bank of the river, and we lay anxiously 
 awaiting the moment when this inactivity should cease. 
 More than one orderly had arrived among us, bearing de- 
 spatches from headquarters ; but where our main body 
 was, or what the nature of the orders, no one could guess. 
 As for me, my excitement was at its height, and I could 
 not speak for the very tension of my nerves. The officers 
 stood in little groups of two and three, whispering anx- 
 iously together ; but all I could collect was, that Soult had 
 already begun his retreat upon Amarante, and that, with 
 the broad stream of the Douro between us, he defied our 
 pi;rsnit. 
 
 "Well, Charley," said Power, laying his arm upon my 
 shoulder, "the French have given us the slip this time; 
 they are already in march, and even if we dared force a 
 passage in the face of such an enemy, it seems there is 
 not a boat to be found. I have just seen Hammersley." 
 
 " Indeed ! Where is he ? " said I. 
 
 " He 's gone back to Villa de Conde ; he asked after you
 
 THE DOURO. 363 
 
 most particularly. Don't blush, man ; I 'd rather back your 
 chance than his, notwithstanding the long letter that Lucy 
 sends him. Poor fellow, he has been badly wounded, but, 
 it seems, declines going back to England." 
 
 "Captain Power," said an orderly, touching his cap, 
 " General Murray desires to see you." 
 
 Power hastened away, but returned in a few moments. 
 
 " I say, Charley, there 's something in the wind here. 
 I have just been ordered to try where the stream is ford- 
 able. I've mentioned your name to the general, and I 
 think you '11 be sent for soon. Good-by." 
 
 I buckled on my sword, and looking to my girths, stood 
 watching the groups iaround me ; when suddenly a dragoon 
 pulled his horse short up, and asked a man near me if Mr. 
 O'Malley was there. 
 
 " Yes ; I am he." 
 
 "Orders from General Murray, sir," said the man, and 
 rode off at a canter. 
 
 I opened and saw that the despatch was addressed to 
 Sir Arthur Wellesley, with the mere words, " With haste ! " 
 on the envelope. 
 
 Xow, which way to turn I knew not ; so springing into the 
 saddle, I galloped to where Colonel Me ri vale was standing 
 talking to the colonel of a heavy dragoon regiment. 
 
 " ]\Iay I ask, sir, by which road I am to proceed with 
 this despatch ? " 
 
 " Along the river, sir," said the heavy , a large dark- 
 browed man, with a most forbidding look. " You '11 soon 
 see the troops ; you 'd better stir yourself, sir, or Sir Arthur 
 is not very likely to be pleased with you." 
 
 "Without venturing a reply to what I felt a somewhat 
 unnecessary taunt, I dashed spurs into my horse, and 
 turned towards the river. I had not gained the bank 
 above a minute, when the loud ringing of a rifle struck 
 upon my ear ; bang went another, and another. I hurried 
 on, however, at the top of my speed, thinking only of my 
 mission and its pressing haste. As I turned an angle of 
 the stream, the vast column of the British came in sight, 
 and scarcely had my eye rested upon them when my horse 
 staggered forwards, plunged twice with his head nearly to
 
 3G4 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 the earth, and then, rearing madly up, fell backwards to 
 the ground. Crushed and bruised as I felt by my fall, 
 I was soon aroused to the necessity of exertion ; for as 
 I disengaged myself from the poor beast, I discovered he 
 had been killed by a bullet in the counter ; and scarcely 
 had I recovered my legs when a shot struck my shako and 
 grazed my temples. I quickly threw myself to the ground, 
 and creeping on for some yards, reached at last some rising 
 ground, from which I rolled gently downwards into a little 
 declivity, sheltered by the bank from the French fire. 
 
 When I arrived at headquarters, I was dreadfully 
 fatigued and heated ; but resolving not to rest till I had 
 delivered my despatches, I hastened towards the convent of 
 La Sierra, where I was told the commander-in-chief was. 
 
 As I came into the court of the convent, filled with gen- 
 eral officers and people of the staff, I was turning to ask 
 how I should proceed, when Hixley caught my eye. 
 
 '' Well, O'Malley, what brings you here ? " 
 
 "Despatches from General Murray." 
 
 " Indeed ; oh, follow me." 
 
 He hurried me rapidly through the buzzing crowd, and 
 ascending a large gloomy stair, introduced me into a room, 
 where about a dozen persons in uniform were writing at 
 a long deal table. 
 
 " Captain Gordon," said he, addressing one of them, 
 " despatches requiring immediate attention have just been 
 brought by this officer," 
 
 Before the sentence was finished the door opened, and a 
 short, slight man, in a gray undress coat, with a white 
 cravat and a cocked hat, entered. The dead silence that 
 ensued was not necessary to assure me that he was one in 
 authority, — the look of command his bold, stern features 
 presented ; the sharp, piercing eye, the compressed lip, the 
 impressive expression of the whole face, told plainly that he 
 was one who held equally himself and othejrs in mastery. 
 
 "Send General Sherbroke here," said he to an aide-de- 
 camp. " Let the light brigade march into position ; " and 
 then turning suddenly to me, "Whose despatches are 
 these ? " 
 
 " General Murray's, sir."
 
 THE DOURO. 365 
 
 I needed no more than that look to assure me that this 
 was he of whom I had heard so much, and of whom the 
 world was still to hear so much more. 
 
 He opened them quickly, and glancing his eye across the 
 contents, crushed the paper in his hand. Just as he did so, 
 a spot of blood upon the envelope attracted his attention. 
 
 " How 's this, — are you wounded ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; my horse was killed — " 
 
 " Very well, sir ; join your brigade. But stay, I shall 
 have orders for you. Well, Waters, what news ? " 
 
 This question was addressed to an officer in a staff uni- 
 form, who entered at the moment, followed by the short 
 and bulky figure of a monk, his shaven crown and large 
 cassock strongly contrasting with the gorgeous glitter of 
 the costumes around him. 
 
 " I say, who have we here ? " 
 
 " The Prior of Amarante, sir," replied Waters, " who has 
 just come over. We have already, by his aid, secured 
 three large barges — " 
 
 " Let the artillery take up position in the convent at 
 once," said Sir Arthur, interrupting. ''The boats will be 
 brought round to the small creek beneath the orchard. 
 You, sir," turning to me, "will convey to General Mur- 
 ray — but you appear weak. You, Gordon, will desire 
 IVIurray to effect a crossing at Avintas with the Germans 
 and the 14th. Sherbroke's division will occupy the Villa 
 Nuova. What number of men can that seminary take ? " 
 
 " From three to four hundred, sir. The padre mentions 
 that all the vigilance of the enemy is limited to the river 
 below the town." 
 
 "I perceive it," was the short reply of Sir Arthur, as 
 placing his hands carelessly behind his back, he walked 
 towards the window, and looked out upon the river. 
 
 All was still as death in the chamber ; not a lip mur- 
 mured. The feeling of respect for him in whose presence 
 we were standing checked every thought of utterance ; 
 while the stupendous gravity of the events before us en- 
 grossed every mind and occupied every heart. I was stand- 
 ing near the window ; the effect of my fall had stunned me 
 for a time, but I was gradually recovering, and watched
 
 366 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 with a thrilling heart the scene before me. Great and 
 absorbing as was my interest in what was passing witliont, 
 it was nothing compared with what I felt as I looked at 
 him upon whom our destiny was then hanging. I had 
 ample time to scan his features and canvass their every 
 lineament. Never before did I look upon such perfect 
 impassibility ; the cold, determined expression was crossed 
 by no show of passion or impatience. All was rigid and 
 motionless, and whatever might have been the workings of 
 the spirit within, certainly no external sign betrayed them ; 
 and yet what a moment for him must that have been ! 
 Before him, separated by a deep and rapid river, lay the 
 conquering legions of France, led on by one second alone 
 to him whose very name had been the prestige of victory. 
 Unprovided with every regular means of transport, in the 
 broad glare of day, in open defiance of their serried ranks 
 and tliundering artillery, he dared the deed. What must 
 have been his confidence in the soldiers he commanded! 
 What must have been his reliance upon his own genius ! 
 As such thoughts rushed through my mind, the door 
 opened and an officer entered hastih^, and whisj)ering a 
 few words to Colonel Waters, left the room. 
 
 " One boat is already brought up to the crossing-place, 
 and entirely concealed by the wall of the orchard." 
 
 " Let the men cross," was the brief reply. 
 
 No other word was sj^oken as, turning from the window, 
 he closed his telescope, and followed by all the others, 
 descended to the courtyard. 
 
 This simple order was enough ; an officer with a company 
 of the Buffs embarked, and thus began the passage of the 
 Douro. 
 
 So engrossed was I in my vigilant observation of our 
 leader, that I would gladly have remained at the convent, 
 when I received an order to join my brigade, to which a 
 detachment of artillery was already proceeding. 
 
 As I reached Avintas all was in motion. The cavalry 
 was in readiness beside the river ; but as yet no boats had 
 been discovered, and such was the impatience of the men 
 to cross, it was with difficulty they were prevented trying 
 the passage by swimming, when suddenly Power appeared
 
 THE DOURO. 367 
 
 followed by several fishermen. Three or four small skiffs 
 had been found, half sunk in mud, among the rushes, and 
 with such frail assistance we commenced to cross. 
 
 " There will be something to write home to Galway soon, 
 Charley, or I 'm terribly mistaken," said Fred, as he sprang 
 into the boat beside me. "■ Was I not a true prophet when 
 I told you ' We 'd meet the French in the morning ? ' " 
 
 " They 're at it already," said Hixley, as a wreath of blue 
 smoke floated across the stream below us, and the loud boom 
 of a large gun resounded through the air. 
 
 Then came a deafening shout, followed by a rattling volley 
 of small arms, gradually swelling into a hot sustained fire, 
 through which the cannon pealed at intervals. Several large 
 meadows lay along the river-side, where our brigade was 
 drawn up as the detachments landed from the boats ; and 
 here, although nearly a league distant from the town, we 
 now heard the din and crash of battle, which increased every 
 moment. The cannonade from the Sierra convent, which at 
 first was merely the fire of single guns, now thundered away in 
 one long roll, amidst which the sounds of falling walls and 
 crashing roofs were mingled. It was evident to us, from the 
 continual fire kept up, that the landing had been effected ; 
 while the swelling tide of musketry told that fresh troops 
 were momentarily coming up. 
 
 In less than twenty minutes our brigade was formed, and 
 we now only waited for two light four-pounders to be landed, 
 when an officer galloped up in haste, and called out, — 
 
 " The French are in retreat ! " and pointing at the same 
 moment to the Vallonga road, we saw a long line of smoke 
 and dust leading from the town, through which, as we 
 gazed, the colors of the enemy might be seen as they defiled, 
 while the unbroken lines of the wagons and heavy baggage 
 proved that it was no partial movement, but the army itself 
 retreating. 
 
 " Fourteenth, threes about ! close up ! trot ! " called out the 
 loud and manly voice of our leader, and the heavy tramp of 
 our squadrons shook the very ground as we advanced towards 
 the road to Vallonga. 
 
 As we came on, the scene became one of overwhelming 
 excitement ; the masses of the enemy that poured unceas-
 
 o6S CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 ingly from the town could now be distinguished more 
 clearly ; and amidst all the crash of gun-carriages and 
 caissons, the voices of the staff officers rose high as they 
 liurried along the retreating battalions. A troop of flying 
 artillery galloped forth at top speed, and wheeling their guns 
 into position with the speed of lightning, prepared, by a 
 flaidving fire, to cover the retiring column. The gunners 
 sprang from their seats, the guns were already unlimbered, 
 when Sir George Murray, riding up at our left, called 
 out, — 
 
 " Forward ! close up ! Charge ! " 
 
 The word was scarcely spoken when the loud cheer an- 
 swered the welcome sound, and the same instant the long 
 line of shining helmets passed with the speed of a whirl- 
 wind ; the pace increased at every stride, the ranks grew 
 closer, and like the dread force of some mighty engine we 
 fell upon the foe. I have felt all the glorious enthusiasm 
 of a fox-hunt, when the loud cry of the hounds, answered 
 by the cheer of the joyous huntsman, stirred the very heart 
 within, but never till now did I know how far higher the 
 excitement reaches, when man to man, sabre to sabre, arm 
 to arm, we ride forward to the battle-field. On we went, 
 the loud shout of "Forward!" still ringing in our ears. 
 One broken, irregular discharge from the French guns shook 
 the head of our advancing column, but stayed us not as we 
 galloped madly on. 
 
 I remember no more. The din, the smoke, the crash, the 
 cry for quarter, mingled with the shout of victory, the flying 
 enemy, the agonizing shrieks of the wounded, — all are co'~ 
 mingled in my mind, but leave no trace of clearness or c 
 nection between them; and it was only when the colum. 
 wheeled to reform behind the advancing squadrons, that I 
 awoke from my trance of maddening excitement, and per- 
 ceived that we had carried the position and cut off the guns 
 of the enemy. 
 
 "Well done, 14th!" said an old gray-headed colonel, as 
 he rode along our line, — " gallantly done, lads ! " The 
 blood trickled from a sabre cut on his temple, along his 
 cheek, as he spoke ; but he either knew it not or heeded 
 it not.
 
 THE DOURO. 369 
 
 " There go the Germans ! " said Power, pointing to the 
 remainder of our brigade, as tliey charged furiously upon 
 the French infantry, and rode them down in masses. 
 
 Our guns came up at this time, and a plunging fire was 
 opened upon the thick and retreating ranks of the enemy. 
 The carnage must have been terrific, for the long breaches 
 in their lines showed where the squadrons of the cavalry 
 had passed, or the most destructive tide of the artillery had 
 swept through them. The speed of the flying columns grew 
 momentarily more ; the road became blocked up, too, by 
 broken carriages and wounded ; and to add to their discom- 
 fiture, a damaging fire now opened from the town upon the 
 retreating column, while the brigade of Guards and the 29th 
 pressed hotly on their rear. 
 
 The scene was now beyond anything maddening in its 
 interest. From the walls of Oporto the English infantry 
 poured forth in pursuit, while the whole river was covered 
 with boats as they still continued to cross over. The ar- 
 tillery thundered from the Sierra to protect the landing, for 
 it was even still contested in places ; and the cavalry, charg- 
 ing in flank, swept the broken ranks and bore down upon 
 the squares. 
 
 It was now, when the full tide of victory ran highest in 
 our favor, that we were ordered to retire from the road. 
 Column after column passed before ns, unmolested and 
 unassailed, and not even a cannon-shot arrested their steps. 
 
 Some unaccountable timidity of our leader directed this 
 movement ; and while before our very eyes the gallant in- 
 fantry were charging the retiring columns, we remained still 
 and inactive. 
 
 How little did the sense of praise we had already won 
 repay us for the shame and indignation we experienced at 
 this moment, as with burning cheek and compressed lip we 
 watched the retreating files. " What can he mean ? " '' Is 
 there not some mistake ? " " Are we never to charge ? " 
 "were the muttered questions around, as a staff officer gal- 
 loped up with the order to take ground still farther back, 
 and nearer to the river. 
 
 The word was scarcely spoken when a young officer, in 
 the uniform of a general, dashed impetuously up ; he held 
 VOL. I. — 24
 
 370 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 his plumed cap high, above his head, as he called out, " 14th, 
 follow me ! Left face ! wheel ! charge ! " 
 
 So, with the word, we were upon them. The French rear- 
 guard was at this moment at the narrowest part of the road, 
 Avhich opened by a bridge upon a large open space ; so that, 
 forming with a narrow front and favored by a declivity in 
 the ground, we actually rode them down. Twice the French 
 formed, and twice were they broken. Meanwhile the car- 
 nage Avas dreadful on both sides, our fellows dashing madly 
 forward where the ranks were thickest, the enemy resisting 
 with the stubborn courage of men fighting for their last spot 
 of ground. So impetuous was the charge of our squadrons, 
 that we stopped not till, piercing the dense column of the 
 retreating mass, we reached the open ground beyond. Here 
 we wheeled and prepared once more to meet them, when 
 suddenly some squadrons of cuirassiers debouched from the 
 road, and supported by a field-piece, showed front against 
 us. This was the :noment that the remainder of our brigade 
 should have come to our aid, but not a man appeared. How- 
 ever, there was not an instant to be lost ; already the plunging 
 fire of the four-pounder had swept through our files, and 
 every moment increased our danger. 
 
 " Once more, my lads, forward ! " cried out our gallant 
 leader. Sir Charles Stewart, as waving his sabre, he dashed 
 into the thickest of the fray. 
 
 So sudden was our charge that we were upon them before 
 they were prepared. And here ensued a terrific struggle ; 
 for as the cavalry of the enemy gave way before us, we came 
 upon the close ranks of the infantry at half-pistol distance, 
 who poured a withering volley into us as we approached. 
 But what could arrest the sweeping torrent of our brave 
 fellows, though every moment falling in numbers ? 
 
 Harvey, our major, lost his arm near the shoulder. 
 Scarcely an officer was not wounded. Power received a 
 deep sabre-cut in the cheek from an aide-de-camp of General 
 Foy, in return for a wound he gave the general ; while I, in 
 my endeavor to save General Laborde when unhorsed, was 
 cut down through the helmet, and so stunned that I remem- 
 bered no more around me. I kept my saddle, it is true, but 
 I lost every sense of consciousness, my first glimmering of
 
 THE DOURO. 371 
 
 reason coming to my aid as I lay upon the river bank and 
 felt my faithful follower Mike bathing my temples with 
 water, as he kept up a running fire of lamentations for my 
 being murthered so young. 
 
 " Are you better, Mister Charles ? Spake to me, alanah ! 
 Say that you 're not kilt, darling ; do now. Oh, wirra ! 
 what '11 I ever say to the master ? and you doing so beauti- 
 ful ! Would n't he give the best baste in his stable to be 
 looking at you to-day ? There, take a sup ; it 's only water. 
 Bad luck to them, but it 's hard work beatin' them. They 're 
 only gone now. That 's right ; now you 're coming to." 
 
 " Where am I, Mike ? " 
 
 " It 's here you are, darling, resting yourself." 
 
 " Well, Charley, my poor fellow, you 've got sore bones, 
 too," cried Power, as, his face swathed in bandages and cov- 
 ered with blood, he lay down on the grass beside me. " It 
 was a gallant thing while it lasted, but has cos.t us dearly. 
 Poor Hixley — " 
 
 *' What of him ? " said I, anxiously. 
 
 " Poor fellow, he has seen his last battle-field ! He fell 
 across me as we came out upon the road. I lifted him up in 
 my arms and bore him along above fifty yards ; but he was 
 stone dead. Not a sigh, not a word escaped him ; shot 
 through the forehead." As he spoke, his lips trembled, and 
 his voice sank to a mere whisper at the last words : " You 
 remember what he said last night. Poor fellow, he was 
 every inch a soldier." 
 
 Such was his epitaph. 
 
 I turned my head towards the scene of our late encounter. 
 Some dismounted guns and broken wagons alone marked the 
 spot ; while far in the distance, the dust of the retreating 
 columns showed the beaten enemy as they hurried towards 
 the frontiers of Spain.
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 THE MORNING. 
 
 There are few sadder things in life than the day after a 
 battle. The high-beating hope, the bounding spirits, have 
 passed away, and in their stead comes the depressing reac- 
 tion by which every overwrought excitement is followed. 
 With far different eyes do we look upon the compact ranks 
 and glistening files, — 
 
 With helm arrayed, 
 And lance and blade, 
 And plume in the gay wind dancing I 
 
 and upon the cold and barren heath, whose only memory of 
 the past is the blood-stained turf, a mangled corpse, the 
 broken gun, the shattered wall, the well-trodden earth 
 where columns stood, the cut-up ground where cavalry had 
 charged, — these are the sad relics of all the chivalry of 
 yesterday. 
 
 The morning which followed the battle of the Douro was 
 one of the most beautiful I ever remember. There was that 
 kind of freshness and elasticity in the air which certain days 
 possess, and communicate by some magic their properties to 
 ourselves. The thrush was singing gayly out from every 
 grove and wooded dell ; the very river had a sound of glad- 
 ness as it rippled on against its sedgy banks ; the foliage, 
 too, sparkled in the fresh dcAV, as in its robes of holiday, and 
 all looked bright and happy. 
 
 We were picketed near the river, upon a gently rising 
 ground, from which the view extended for miles in every 
 direction. Above us, the stream came winding down amidst 
 broad and fertile fields of tall grass and waving corn, backed 
 by deep and mellow woods, which were lost to the view
 
 THE MORNING. S"3 
 
 upon the distant hills ; below, the river, widening as it went, 
 pursued a straighter course, or turned with bolder curves, 
 till, passing beneath the town, it spread into a large sheet of 
 glassy water as it opened to the sea. The sun was just rising 
 as I looked upon this glorious scene, and already the tall 
 spires of Oporto were tipped with a bright rosy hue, while 
 the massive towers and dark walls threw their lengthened 
 shadows far across the plain. 
 
 The fires of the bivouac still burned, but all slept around 
 them. Not a sound was heard save the tramp of a patrol 
 or the short, quick cry of the sentry. I sat lost in medita- 
 tion, or rather in that state of dreamy tlioughtfulness in 
 which the past and present are combined, and the absent are 
 alike before us as are the things we look upon. 
 
 One moment I felt as though I were describing to my 
 uncle the battle of the day before, pointing out where we 
 stood, and how we charged; then again I was at home, be- 
 side the broad, bleak Shannon, and the brown hills of Scariff. 
 I watched with beating heart the tall Sierra, where our path 
 lay for the future, and then turned my thoughts to him whose 
 name was so soon to be received in England with a nation^s 
 pride and gratitude, and panted for a soldier's glory. 
 
 As thus I followed every rising fancy, I heard a step 
 approach ; it was a figure muffled in a cavalry cloak, which 
 I soon perceived to be Power. 
 
 "Charley ! " said he, in a half-whisper, "get up and come 
 with me. You are aware of the general order, that while 
 in pursuit of an enemy, all military honors to the dead are 
 forbidden ; but we wish to place our poor comrade in the 
 earth before we leave." 
 
 I followed down a little path, through a grove of tall 
 beech-trees, that opened upon a little grassy terrace beside 
 the river. A stunted olive-tree stood by itself in the midst, 
 and there I found five of our brother officers standing, 
 wrapped in their wide cloaks. As we pressed each other's 
 hands, not a word was spoken. Each heart was full ; and 
 hard features that never quailed before the foe were now 
 shaken with the convulsive spasm of agony or compressed 
 with stern determination to seem calm. 
 
 A cavalry helmet and a large blue cloak lay upon the
 
 374 ^ CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 grass. The narrow grave was already dug beside it ; and 
 in the deathlike stillness around, the service for the dead 
 was read. The last words were over. We stooped and 
 placed the corpse, wrapped up in the broad mantle, in the 
 earth ; we replaced the mould, and stood silently around 
 the spot. The trumpet of our regiment at this moment 
 sounded the call ; its clear notes rang sharply through the 
 thin air, — it was the soldier's requiem ! and we turned 
 away without speaking, and returned to our quarters. 
 
 I had never known poor Hixley till a day or two before ; 
 but, somehow, my grief for him was deep and heartfelt. It 
 was not that his frank and manly bearing, his bold and 
 military air, had gained upon me, No ; these were indeed 
 qualities to attract and delight me, but he had obtained a 
 stronger and faster hold upon my affections, — he spoke to 
 me of home. 
 
 Of all the ties that bind us to the chance acquaintances 
 we meet with in life, what can equal this one ? What a 
 claim upon your love has he who can, by some passing 
 word, some fast-flitting thought, bring back the days of 
 your youth ! What interest can he not excite by some 
 anecdote of your boyish days, some well-remembered trait 
 of youthful daring, or early enterprise I Many a year of 
 sunshine and of storm have passed above my head ; I have 
 not been withoiat my moments of gratified pride and re- 
 warded ambition; but my heart has never I'esponded so 
 fully, so thankfully, so proudly to these, such as they were, 
 as to the simple, touching words of one who knew my early 
 home, and loved its inmates, 
 
 " Well, Fitzroy, what news ? " inquired I, roused from 
 my musing, as an aide-de-camp galloped up at full speed, 
 
 " Tell Merivale to get the regiment under arms at once. 
 Sir Arthur Wellesley will be here in less than half an hour. 
 You may look for the route immediately. Where are the 
 Germans quartered ? " 
 
 " Lower down ; beside that grove of beech-trees, next the 
 river," 
 
 Scarcely was my reply spoken, when he dashed spurs into 
 his horse, and was soon out of sight. Meanwhile the plain 
 beneath me presented an animated and splendid spectacle.
 
 THE MOKNING. 375 
 
 The different corps were falling into position to the enliv- 
 ening sounds of their quick-step, the trumpets of the cawilry 
 rang loudly through the valley, and the clatter of sabres 
 and sabre tasches joined with the hollow tramp of the 
 horses, as the squadron came up. 
 
 I had not a moment to lose ; so hastening back to my 
 quarters, I found Mike waiting with my horse. 
 
 " Captain Power 's before you, sir," said he, " and you '11 
 have to make haste. The regiments are under arms 
 already." 
 
 From the little mound where I stood, I could see the 
 long line of cavalry as they deployed into the plain, followed 
 by the horse artillery, which brought up the rear. 
 
 " This looks like a march," thought I, as I pressed forward 
 to join my companions. 
 
 I had not advanced above a hundred yards through a nar- 
 row ravine when the measured tread of infantry fell upon 
 my ears. I pulled up to slacken my pace, just as the head 
 of a column turned round the angle of the road, and came 
 in view. The tall caps of a grenadier company was the 
 first thing I beheld, as they came on without roll of drum 
 and sound of fife. I watched with a soldier's pride the 
 manly bearing and gallant step of the dense mass as they 
 defiled before me. I was struck no less by them than by a 
 certain look of a steady but sombre cast which each man 
 wore. 
 
 " What can this mean ? " thought I. 
 
 My first impression was, that a military execution was 
 about to take place, the next moment solved my doubt ; for 
 as the last files of the grenadiers wheeled round, a dense 
 mass behind came in sight, whose unarmed hands, and 
 downcast air, at once bespoke them prisoners-of-war. 
 
 What a sad sight it was ! There was the old and weather- 
 beaten grenadier, erect in frame and firm in step, his gray 
 mustache scarcely concealing the scowl that curled his lip, 
 side by side with the young and daring conscript, even yet 
 a mere boy ; their march was regular, their gaze steadfast, 
 — no look of flinching courage there. On they came, a long 
 unbroken line. They looked not less proudly than their 
 captors around them. As I looked with heavy heart upon
 
 376 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 them, my attention was attracted to one who marched alone 
 behind the rest. He was a middle-sized but handsome 
 yonth of some eighteen years at most ; his light helmet 
 and waving plume bespoke him a chasseur a cheval, and I 
 could plainly perceive, in his careless half-saucy air, how 
 indignantly he felt the position to which the fate of war 
 had reduced him. He caught my eyes fixed upon him, and 
 for an instant turned upon me a gaze of open and palpable 
 defiance, drawing himself up to his full height, and crossing 
 his arms upon his breast ; but probably perceiving in my 
 look more of interest than of triumph, his countenance sud- 
 denly changed, a deep blush suffused his cheek, his eye 
 beamed with a softened and kindly expression, and carry- 
 ing his hand to his helmet, he saluted me, saying, in a voice 
 of singular sweetness, — 
 
 " Je vous soiihaite un meilleur sort, camarade." 
 I bowed, and muttering something in return, was about 
 to make some inquiry concerning him, when the loud call 
 of the trumpet rang through the valley, and apprised me 
 that, in my interest for the prisoners, I had forgotten all 
 else, and was probably incurring censure for my absence.
 
 CHAPTEK XLVII. 
 
 THE KEVIEW. 
 
 When" I joined the group of my brother officers, who 
 stood gayly chatting and laughing together before our lines, 
 I was much surprised — nay almost shocked — to find how 
 little seeming impression had been made upon them by the 
 sad duty we had performed that morning. 
 
 When last we met, each eye w^as downcast, each heart 
 was full. — sorrow for him we had lost from among us for- 
 ever, mingling with the awful sense of our own uncertain 
 tenure here, had laid its impress on each brow ; but now, 
 scarcely an hour elapsed, and all were cheerful and elated. 
 The last shovelful of earth upon the grave seemed to have 
 buried both the dead and the mourning. And such is war, 
 and such the temperament it forms ! Events so strikingly 
 opposite in their character and influences succeed so rapidly 
 one upon another that the mind is kept in one Avhirl of 
 excitement, and at length accustoms itself to change with 
 every phase of circumstances ; and between joy and grief, 
 hope and despondency, enthusiasm and depression, there is 
 neither breadth nor interval, — they follow each other as 
 naturally as morning succeeds to night. 
 
 I had not much time for such reflections ; scarcely had I 
 saluted the officers about me, when the loud prolonged roll 
 of the drums along the line of infantry in the valley, fol- 
 lowed by the sharp clatter of muskets as they were raised 
 to the shoulder, announced the troops were under arms, and 
 the review begun. 
 
 " Have you seen the general order this morning. Power ? " 
 inquired an old officer beside me. 
 
 " No ; they say, however, that ours are mentioned." 
 
 " Harvey is going on favorably," cried a young cornet, as 
 he galloped up to our party. 
 
 " Take ground to the left ! " sung out the clear voice of 
 the colonel, as he rode along in front. "Fourteenth, I am
 
 oiS CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 happy to inform you that your conduct has met approval 
 in the highest quarter. I have just received the general 
 orders, in which this occurs : — 
 
 " ' The timely passage of the Douro, and subsequent 
 
 MOVEMENTS UPON THE ENEMy's FLANK, BY LlEUTENANT- 
 
 General Sherbroke, with the Guards and 29th Kegi- 
 ment, and the bravery of the two squadrons of the 
 14th Light Dragoons, under the command of Major 
 Harvey, and led by the Honorable Brigadier-General 
 Charles Stewart, obtained the Victory' — Mark that, 
 my lads ! obtained the victory — ' which has contributed 
 so much to the honor of the troops on this day.' " 
 
 The words were hardly spoken, when a tremendous cheer 
 burst from the whole line at once. 
 
 " Steady, Fourteenth ! steady, lads ! " said the gallant 
 old colonel, as he raised his hand gently; ''the staff is 
 approaching." 
 
 At the same moment, the white plumes appeared, rising 
 above the brow of the hill. On tliey came, glittering in all 
 the splendor of aiguillettes and orders ; all save one. He 
 rode foremost, upon a small, compact, black horse ; his dress, 
 a plain gray frock fastened at the waist by a red sash ; his 
 cocked hat alone bespoke, in its plume, the general officer. 
 He galloped rapidly on till he came to the centre of the 
 line ; then turning short round, he scanned the ranks from 
 end to end with an eagle glance. 
 
 " Colonel Merivale, you have made known to your regi- 
 ment my opinion of them, as expressed in general orders ? " 
 
 The colonel bowed low in acquiescence. 
 
 " Fitzroy, you have got the memorandum, I hope ? " 
 
 The aide-de-camp here presented to Sir Arthur a slip of 
 paper, which he continued to regard attentively for some 
 minutes. 
 
 '' Captain Powel, — Power, I mean. Captain Power ! " 
 
 Power rode out from the line. 
 
 " Your very distinguished conduct yesterday has been re- 
 ported to me. I shall have sincere pleasure in forwarding 
 your name for the vacant majority. 
 
 "You have forgotten, Colonel Merivale, to send in the 
 name of the officer who saved General Laborde's life."
 
 THE REVIEW. 379 
 
 <• I believe I have mentioned it, Sir Arthur," said the 
 colonel : " Mr. O'Malley." 
 
 " True, I beg pardon ; so you have — Mr. O'Malley ; a 
 very young officer indeed, — ha, an Irishman ! The south 
 of Ireland, eh ? " 
 
 " No, sir, the west." 
 
 ^' Oh, yes ! Well, Mr. O'Malley, you are promoted. You 
 have the lieutenancy in your own regiment. By-the-bye, 
 Merivale," here his voice changed into a half-laughing tone, 
 " ere I forget it, pray let me beg of you to look into this 
 honest fellow's claim ; he has given me no peace the entire 
 morning." 
 
 As he spoke, I turned my eyes in the direction he pointed, 
 and to my utter consternation, beheld my man Mickey Free 
 standing among the staff, the position he occupied, and the 
 presence he stood in, having no more perceptible effect 
 upon his nerves than if he were assisting at an Irish wake ; 
 but so completely was I overwhelmed with shame at the 
 moment, that the staff were already far down the lines ere 
 I recovered my self-possession, to which, certainly, I was in 
 some degree recalled by Master Mike's addressing me in a 
 somewhat imploring voice : — 
 
 " Arrah, spake for me, Master Charles, alanah ; sure they 
 might do something for me now, av it was only to make me 
 a ganger." 
 
 Mickey's ideas of promotion, thus insinuatingly put for- 
 Avard, threw the whole party around us into one burst of 
 laughter. 
 
 " I have him down there," said he, pointing, as he spoke, 
 to a thick grove of cork-trees at a little distance. 
 
 " Who have you got there, Mike ? " inquired Power. 
 
 " Devil a one o' me knows his name," replied he ; " may be 
 it 's Bony himself." 
 
 " And how do you know he 's there still ? " 
 
 " How do I know, is it ? Did n't I tie him last night ? " 
 
 Curiosity to find out what Mickey could possibly allude 
 to, induced Power and myself to follow him down the slope 
 to the clump of trees I have mentioned. As we came near, 
 the very distinct denunciations that issued from the thicket 
 proved pretty clearly the nature of the affair. It was
 
 380 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 nothing less than a French officer of cavalry that Mike 
 had unhorsed in the melee, and wishing, probably, to pre- 
 serve some testimony of his prowess, had made prisoner, and 
 tied fast to a cork-tree, the preceding evening. 
 
 ^^ Sacrehleu ! " said the poor Frenchman, as we approached, 
 "ce sont des sauvages .' " 
 
 "Av it's making your sowl ye are," said Mike, "you're 
 right ; for may be they won't let me keep you alive." 
 
 Mike's idea of a tame prisoner threw me into a fit of 
 laughing, while Power asked, — 
 
 '' And what do you want to do with him, Mickey ? " 
 
 "The sorra one o' me knows, for he spakes no dacent 
 tongue. Thighum thu," said he, addressing the prisoner, 
 with a poke in the ribs at the same moment. " But sure, 
 Master Charles, he might tache me French." 
 
 There was something so irresistibly ludicrous in his tone 
 and look as he said these words, that both Power and my- 
 self absolutely roared with laughter. We began, however, 
 to feel not a little ashamed of our position in the business, 
 and explained to the Frenchman that our worthy country- 
 man had but little experience in the usages of war, while 
 we proceeded to unbind him and liberate him from his mis- 
 erable bondage. 
 
 " It 's letting him loose, you are. Captain ? Master 
 Charles, take care. Be-gorra, av you had as much trouble 
 in catching him as I had, you 'd think twice about letting 
 him out. Listen to me, now," here he placed his closed fist 
 within an inch of the poor prisoner's nose, — " listen to 
 me ! Av you say peas, by the morteal, I '11 not lave a whole 
 bone in your skin." 
 
 With some difficulty we persuaded Mike that his conduct, 
 so far from leading to his promotion, might, if known in 
 another quarter, procure him an acquaintance with the 
 provost-marshal ; a fact which, it was plain to perceive, gave 
 him but a very poor impression of military gratitude. 
 
 "Oh, then, if they were in swarms foment me, devil 
 receave the prisoner I '11 take again ! " 
 
 So saying, he slowly returned to the regiment ; wliile 
 Power and I, having conducted the Frenchman to the rear, 
 cantered towards the town to learn the news of the day.
 
 THE REVIEW. 381 
 
 The city on that day presented a most singular aspect. 
 The streets, filled with the town's-people and the soldiery, 
 were decorated with flags and garlands ; the cafes were 
 crowded with merry groups, and the sounds of music and 
 laughter resounded on all sides. The houses seemed to be 
 quite inadequate to afford accommodation to the numerous 
 guests ; and in consequence, bullock cars and forage wagons 
 were converted into temporary hotels, and many a jovial 
 party were collected in both. Military music, church bells, 
 drinking choruses, were all commingled in the din and tur- 
 moil ; processions in honor of " Our Lady of Succor " were 
 jammed up among bacchanalian orgies, and their very chant 
 half drowned in the cries of the wounded as they passed 
 on to the hospitals. With difficulty we pushed our way 
 through the dense mob, as we turned our steps towards the 
 seminary. We both felt naturally curious to see the place 
 where our first detachment landed, and to examine the 
 opportunities of defence it presented. The building itself 
 was a large and irregular one of an oblong form, surrounded 
 by a high wall of solid masonry, the only entrance being by 
 a heavy iron gate. 
 
 At this spot the battle appeared to have raged with vio- 
 lence ; one side of the massive gate was torn from its hinges 
 and lay flat upon the ground ; the walls were breached in 
 many places ; and pieces of torn uniforms, broken bayonets, 
 and bruised shakos attested that the conflict was a close 
 one. The seminary itself was in a falling state ; the roof, 
 from which Paget had given his orders, and where he was 
 wounded, had fallen in. The French cannon had fissured 
 the building from top to bottom, and it seemed only await- 
 ing the slightest impulse to crumble into ruin. When we 
 regarded the spot, and examined the narrow doorway which, 
 opening upon a flight of a few steps to the river, admitted 
 our first party, we could not help feeling struck anew with 
 the gallantry of that mere handful of brave fellows who 
 thus threw themselves amidst the overwhelming legions of 
 the enemy, and at once, without waiting for a single rein- 
 forcement, opened a fire upon their ranks. Bold as the 
 enterprise unquestionably was, we still felt with what con- 
 summate judgment it had been planned; a bend of the river
 
 382 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 concealed entirely the passage of the troops, the guns of the 
 Sierras covered their landing and completely swept one ap- 
 proach to the seminary. The French, being thus obliged to 
 attack by the gate, were compelled to make a considerable 
 detour before they reached it, all of which gave time for our 
 divisions to cross ; while the brigade of Guards, under Gen- 
 eral Sherbroke, profiting by the confusion, passed the river 
 below the town, and took the enemy unexpectedly in the 
 rear. 
 
 Brief as was the struggle within the town, it must have 
 been a terrific one. The artillery were firing at musket 
 range ; cavalry and infantry were fighting hand to hand in 
 narrow streets, a destructive musketry pouring all the while 
 from windows and house-tops. 
 
 At the Amarante gate, where the French defiled, the 
 carnage was also great. Their light artillery unlimbered 
 some guns here to cover the columns as they deployed, 
 but Murray's cavalry having carried these, the flank of 
 the infantry became entirely exposed to the galling fire 
 of small-arms from the seminary, and the far more de- 
 structive shower of grape that poured unceasingly from 
 the Sierra. 
 
 Our brigade did the rest ; and in less than one hour from 
 the landing of the first man, the French were in full retreat 
 upon Vallonga. 
 
 "A glorious thing, Charley," said Power, after a pause, 
 " and a proud souvenir for hereafter." 
 
 A truth I felt deeply at the time, and one my heart 
 responds to not less fully as I am writing.
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 THE QUARREL. 
 
 On the evening of the 12th, orders were received for the 
 German brigade and three squadrons of our regiment to 
 pursue tlie French upon the Terracinthe road by daybreak 
 on the following morning. 
 
 I was busily occupied in my preparations for a hurried 
 march when Mike came up to say that an officer desired to 
 speak with me ; and the moment after Captain Hammersley 
 appeared. A sudden flush colored his pale and sickly feat- 
 ures, as he held out his hand and said, — 
 
 "I 've come to wish you joy, O'Malley. I just this instant 
 heard of your promotion. I am sincerely glad of it ; pray 
 tell me the whole affair." 
 
 "That is the very thing I am unable to do. I have some 
 very vague, indistinct remembrance of warding off a sabre- 
 cut from the head of a wounded and unhorsed officer in the 
 melee of yesterday, but more I know not. In fact, it was 
 my first duty under fire. I 've a tolerably clear recollection 
 of all the events of the morning, but the word ' Charge ! ' 
 once given, I remember very little more. But you, where 
 have you been ? How have we not met before ? " 
 
 " I 've exchanged into a heavy dragoon regiment, and am 
 now employed upon the staff." 
 
 " You are aware that I have letters for you ? " 
 
 "Power hinted, I think, something of the kind. I saw 
 him very hurriedly." 
 
 These words were spoken with an effort at nonchalance 
 that evidently cost him much. 
 
 As for me, my agitation was scarcely less, as fumbling for 
 some seconds in my portmanteau, I drew forth the long des- 
 tined packet. As I placed it in his hands, he grew deadly 
 pale, and a slight spasmodic twitch in his upper lip bespoke 
 some unnatural struggle. He broke the seal suddenly, and
 
 384 CHARLES O'MyVLLEY. 
 
 as lie did so, tlie morocco case of a miniature fell upon the 
 ground ; his eyes ran rapidly across the letter ; the livid 
 color of his lips as the blood forced itself to them added to 
 the corpse-like hue of his countenance. 
 
 "You, probably, are aware of the contents of this letter, 
 Mr. O'Malley," said he, in an altered voice, whose tones, 
 half in anger, half in suppressed irony, cut to my very 
 heart. 
 
 " I am in complete ignorance of them," said I, calmly. 
 
 " Indeed, sir ! " replied he, with a sarcastic curl of his 
 mouth as he spoke. " Then, perhaps, you will tell me, too, 
 that your very success is a secret to you — " 
 
 " I 'm really not aware — " 
 
 " You think, probably, sir, that the pastime is an amusing 
 one, to interfere where the affections of others are concerned. 
 I 've heard of you, sir. Your conduct at Lisbon is known to 
 me ; and though Captain Trevyllian may bear — " 
 
 " Stop, Captain Hammersley ! " said I, with a tremendous 
 effort to be calm, — " stop ! You have said enough, quite 
 enough, to convince me of what your object was in seeking 
 me hero to-day. You shall not be disappointed. I trust 
 that assurance will save you from any further display of 
 temper." 
 
 "I thank you, most humbly I thank you for the quick- 
 ness of your apprehension ; and I shall now take my leave. 
 Good-evening, Mr. O'Malley. I wish you much joy ; you 
 have my very fullest congratulations upon all your good 
 fortune." 
 
 The sneering emphasis the last words were spoken with 
 remained fixed in my mind long after he took his depart- 
 ure ; and, indeed, so completely did the whole seem like a 
 dream to me that were it not for the fragments of the 
 miniature that lay upon the ground where he had crushed 
 them with his heel, I could scarcely credit myself that I 
 was awake. 
 
 My first impulse was to seek Power, upon whose judgment 
 and discretion I could with confidence rely. 
 
 I had not long to Avait ; for scarcely had I thrown my 
 cloak around me, when he rode up. He had just seen 
 Hammersley, and learned something of our interview.
 
 THE QUARREL. 385 
 
 "AVhy, Charley, my dear fellow, what is this? How 
 have you treated poor Hanimersley ? " 
 
 " Treated him ! Say, ratlier, how has he treated me I " 
 
 I here entered into a short but accurate account of our 
 meeting, during which Power listened with great compos- 
 ure ; while I could perceive, from the questions he asked, 
 that some very different impression had been previously 
 made upon his mind. 
 
 " And this was all that passed ? " 
 
 '' All." 
 
 "But what of the business at Lisbon ?" 
 
 "I don't understand." 
 
 " Why, he speaks, — he has heard some foolish account 
 of your having made some ridiculous speech there about 
 your successful rivalry of him in Ireland. Lucy Dash wood, 
 I suppose, is referred to. Some one has been good-natured 
 enough to repeat the thing to him." 
 
 " But it never occurred. I never did." 
 
 " Are you sure, Charley ? " 
 
 " I am sure. I know I never did." 
 
 " The poor fellow ! He has been duped. Come, Charley, 
 you must not take it ill. Poor Hanimersley has never re- 
 covered a sabre-wound he received some months since upon 
 the head ; his intellect is really affected by it. Leave it 
 all to me. Promise not to leave your quarters till I return, 
 and I '11 put everything right again." 
 
 I gave the required pledge ; while Power, springing into 
 the saddle, left me to my own reflections. 
 
 My frame of mind as PoAver left me was by no means an 
 enviable one. A quarrel is rarely a happy incident in a 
 man's life, still less is it so when the difference arises with 
 one we are disposed to like and respect. Such was Hani- 
 mersley. His manly, straightforward character had won 
 my esteem and regard, and it was with no common scrutiny 
 I taxed my memory to think what could have given rise to 
 the impression he labored under of my having injured him. 
 His chance mention of Trevyllian suggested to me some 
 suspicion that his dislike of me, wherefore arising I knew 
 not, might have its share in the matter ; and in this state 
 of doubt and uncertainty I paced impatiently up and down, 
 VOL. I — 25
 
 386 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 anxiously "watching for Power's return in the hope of at 
 length getting some real insight into the difficulty. 
 
 My patience was fast ebbing, Power had been absent above 
 an hour, and no appearance of him could I detect, when 
 suddenly the tramp of a horse came rapidly up the hill, I 
 looked out and saw a rider coming forward at a very fast 
 pace. Before I had time for even a guess as to who it was, 
 he drew up, and I recognized Captain Trevyllian. There 
 was a certain look of easy impertinence and half-smiling 
 satisfaction about his features I had never seen before, as 
 he touched his cap in salute, and said, — 
 
 " May I have the honor of a few words' conversation with 
 you ? " 
 
 I bowed silently, while he dismounted, and passing his 
 bridle beneath his arm, walked on beside me. 
 
 " My friend Captain Hammersley has commissioned me 
 to wait upon yon about this unpleasant affair — " 
 
 " I beg pardon for the interruption, Captain Trevyllian, 
 but as I have yet to learn to what you or your friend alludes, 
 perhaps it may facilitate matters if you will explicitly state 
 your meaning." 
 
 He grew crimson on the cheek as I said this, while, with 
 a voice perfectly unmoved, he continued, — 
 
 " I am not sufficiently in my friend's confidence to know 
 the whole of the affair in question, nor have I his per- 
 mission to enter into any of it, he probably presuming, as I 
 certainly did myself, that your sense of honor would have 
 deemed fiirther parley and discussion both unnecessary and 
 unseasonable." 
 
 " In fact, then, if I understand, it is expected that I should 
 meet Captain Hammersley for some reason unknown — " 
 
 " He certainly desires a meeting with you," was the dry 
 reply. 
 
 "And as certainly I shall not give it, before understand-, 
 ing upon what grounds." 
 
 " And such I am to report as your answer ? " said he, 
 looking at me at the moment with an expression of ill- 
 repressed triumph as he spoke. 
 
 There was something in these few words, as well as in the 
 tone in which they were spoken, that sunk deeply in my
 
 THE QUAKREL. 387 
 
 heart. Was it that by some trick of diplomacy he was 
 endeavoring to compromise my honor and character ? Was 
 it possible that my refusal might be construed into any 
 other than the real cause ? I was too young, too inex- 
 perienced in the world to decide the question for myself, 
 and no time was allowed me to seek another's counsel. 
 What a trying moment was that for me ; my temples 
 throbbed, my heart beat almost audibly, and I stood afraid 
 to speak ; dreading on the one hand lest my compliance might 
 involve me in an act to embitter my life forever, and fearful 
 on the other, that my refusal might be reported as a trait 
 of cowardice. 
 
 He saw, he read my difficulty at a glance, and with a smile 
 of most supercilious expression, repeated coolly his former 
 question. In an instant all thought of Hammersley was 
 forgotten. I remembered no more. I saw him before me, 
 he Avho had, since my first meeting, continually contrived to 
 pass some inappreciable slight upon me. My eyes flashed, 
 my hands tingled with ill-repressed rage, as I said, — 
 
 " With Captain Hammersley I am conscious of no quarrel, 
 nor have I ever shown by any act or look an intention to 
 provoke one. Indeed, such demonstrations are not always 
 successful ; there are persons most rigidly scrupulous for a 
 friend's honor, little disposed to guard their own." 
 
 '' You mistake," said he, interrupting me, as I spoke these 
 words with a look as insulting as I could make it, — " you 
 mistake. I have sworn a solemn oath never to send a 
 challenge." 
 
 The emphasis upon the word " send," explained fully his 
 meaning, when I said, — 
 
 " But you will not decline — " 
 
 " Most certainly not," said he, again interrupting, while 
 with sparkling eye and elated look he drew himself up to 
 his full height. " Your friend is — " 
 
 " Captain Power ; and yours — " 
 
 " Sir Harry Beaufort. I may observe that, as the troops 
 are in marching order, the matter had better not be 
 delayed." 
 
 " There shall be none on my part." 
 
 " Xor mine ! " said he, as with a low bow and a look of
 
 388 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 most ineffable triuinpli, he sprang into his saddle ; then, 
 " Au revoir, Mr. O'Malley," said he, gathering up his reins. 
 "Beaufort is on the staff, and quartered at Oporto." So 
 saying, he cantered easily down the slope^ and once more I 
 was alone.
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 THE ROUTE CONTINUED. 
 
 I WAS leisurely examining my pistols, — poor Considine's 
 last present to me on leaving home, — when an orderly 
 sergeant rode up, and delivered into my hands the following 
 order : — 
 
 Lieutenant O'Malley will hold himself in immediate readiness to 
 proceed on a particular service. By order of his Excellency the 
 Commander of the Forces. 
 
 [Signed] S. Gordon, Military Secretary. 
 
 " What can this mean ? " thought I. " It is not possible 
 that any rumor of my intended meeting could have got 
 abroad, and that my present destination could be intended 
 as a punishment ? " 
 
 I walked hurriedly to the door of the little hut which 
 formed my quarters ; below me in the plain, all was activity 
 and preparation, the infantry were drawn up in marching 
 order, baggage wagons, ordnance stores, and artillery seemed 
 all in active preparation, and some cavalry squadrons might 
 be already seen with forage allowances behind the saddle, as 
 if only waiting the order to set out. I strained my eyes to 
 see if Power was coming, but no horseman approached in 
 the direction. I stood, and I hesitated whether I should 
 not rather seek him at once, than continue to wait on in my 
 present uncertainty ; but then, what if I should miss him ? 
 And I had pledged myself to remain till he returned. 
 
 While I deliberated thus with myself, weighing the various 
 chances for and against each plan, I saw two mounted 
 officers coming towards me at a brisk trot. As they came 
 nearer, I recognized one as my colonel, the other was an 
 officer of the staff. 
 
 Supposing that their mission had some relation to the 
 order I had so lately received, and which until now I had
 
 390 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 forgotten, I hastily returned and ordered Mike io my 
 presence. 
 
 " How are the horses, Mike ? " said I. 
 
 " Never better, sir. Badger was wounded slightly by a 
 spent shot in the counter, but he 's never the worse this 
 morning, and the black horse is capering like a filly." 
 
 " Get ready my pack, feed the cattle, and be prepared to 
 set out at a moment's warning," 
 
 " Good advice, O'Malley," said the colonel, as he over- 
 heard the last direction to my servant. " I hope the nags 
 are in condition ? " 
 
 " Why yes, sir, I believe they are." 
 
 " All the better ; you 've a sharp ride before you. Mean- 
 while let me introduce my friend ; Captain Beaumont, Mr. 
 O'Malley. I think we had better be seated." 
 
 '' These are your instructions, Mr. O'Malley," said Captain 
 Beaumont, unfolding a map as he spoke. '' You will pro- 
 ceed from this with half a troop of our regiment by forced 
 marches towards the frontier, passing through the town of 
 Calenco and Guarda and the Estrella pass. On arriving at 
 the headquarters of the Lusitanian Legion, which you will 
 find there, you are to put yourself under the orders of Major 
 Monsoon, commanding that force. Any Portuguese cavalry 
 he may have with him will be attached to yours and under 
 your command ; your rank for the time being that of captain. 
 You will, as far as possible, acquaint yourself with the 
 habits and capabilities of the native cavalry, and make such 
 report as you judge necessary thereupon to his Excellency 
 the commander of the forces. I think it only fair to add 
 that you are indebted to my friend Colonel Merivale for 
 the very flattering position thus opened to your skill and 
 enterprise." 
 
 "My daar Colonel, let me assure you — " 
 
 " Not a word, my boy. I knew the thing would suit you, 
 and I am sure I can count upon your not disappointing my 
 expectations of you. Sir Arthur perfectly remembers your 
 name. He only asked two questions, — 
 
 " ' Is he well mounted ? ' 
 
 " ' Admirably,' was my answer. 
 
 " ' Can you depend upon his promptitude ? '
 
 THE ROUTE CONTINUED. 391 
 
 "'He '11 leave in half an hour.' 
 
 " So you see, O'Malley, I have already pledged myself for 
 you. And now I must say adieu ; the regiments are about 
 to take up a more advanced position, so good-by. I hope 
 you '11 have a pleasant time of it till we meet again." 
 
 " It is now twelve o'clock, Mr. O'Malley," said Beaumont ; 
 " we may rely upon your immediate departure. Your writ- 
 ten instructions and despatches will be here within a quarter 
 of an hour." 
 
 I muttered something, — what, I cannot remember ; I 
 bowed my thanks to my worthy colonel, shook his hand 
 warmly, and saw him ride down the hill and disappear in 
 the crowd of soldiery beneath, before I could recall my 
 faculties and think over my situation. 
 
 Then all at once did the full difficulty of my position break 
 upon me. If I accepted my present employment 1 must 
 certainly fail in my engagement to Trevyllian. But I had 
 already pledged myself to its acceptance. What was to be 
 done ? No time was left for deliberation. The very 
 minutes I should have spent in preparation were fast pass- 
 ing. Would that Power might appear ! Alas, he came not ! 
 My state of doubt and uncertainty increased every moment ; 
 I saw nothing but ruin before me, even at a moment when 
 fortune promised most fairly for the future, and opened a 
 field of enterprise my heart had so often and so ardently 
 desired. Nothing was left me but to hasten to Colonel 
 Merivale and decline my appointment ; to do so was to pre- 
 judice my character in his estimation forever, for I dared 
 not allege my reasons, and in all probability my conduct 
 might require my leaving the army. 
 
 "Be it so, then," said I, in an accent of despair; "the 
 die is cast." 
 
 I ordered my horse round ; I wrote a few words to PoAver 
 to explain my absence should he come while I was away, 
 and leaped into the saddle. As I reached the plain my pace 
 became a gallop, and I pressed my horse with all the im- 
 patience my heart was burning with. I dashed along the 
 lines towards Oporto, neither hearing nor seeing aught 
 around me, when suddenly the clank of cavalry accoutre- 
 ments behind induced me to turn my head, and I perceived
 
 392 CHARLES O'jVIALLEY. 
 
 an orderly dragoon at full gallop in pursuit. I pulled up 
 till he came alongside. 
 
 ** Lieutenant O'Malley, sir/' said the man, saluting, "these 
 despatches are for you." 
 
 I took them hurriedly, and was about to continue my 
 route, when the attitude of the dragoon arrested my atten- 
 tion. He had reined in his horse to the side of the narrow 
 causeway, and holding him still and steadily, sat motionless 
 as a statue. I looked behind and saw the whole staff ap- 
 proaching at a brisk trot. Before I had a moment for 
 thought tliey were beside me. 
 
 " Ah, O'Malley," cried Merivale, " you have your orders ; 
 don't wait ; his Excellency is coming up." 
 
 " Get along, I advise you," said another, '- or you '11 catch 
 it, as some of us have done this morning." 
 
 "All is right, Charley; you can go in safety," said a 
 whispering voice, as Power passed in a sharp canter. 
 
 That one sentence was enough ; my heart bounded like a 
 deer, my cheek beamed with the glow of delighted pleasure, 
 I closed my spurs upon my gallant gray and dashed across 
 the plain. 
 
 When I arrived at my quarters the men were drawn up 
 in waiting, and provided with rations for three days' march ; 
 Mike was also prepared for the road, and nothing more 
 remained to delay me. 
 
 "Captain Power has been here, sir, and left a note." 
 
 I took it and thrust it hastily into my sabretasche. I 
 knew from the few words he had spoken that my present 
 step involved me in no ill consequences ; so giving the woi d 
 to wheel into column, I rode to the front and set out upon 
 my march to Alcantara.
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 THE WATCH-FIRE. 
 
 There are few things so inspiriting to a young soldier 
 as the being employed with a separate command ; the picket 
 and outpost duty have a charm for him no other portion 
 of his career possesses. The field seems open for indi- 
 vidual boldness and heroism ; success, if obtained, must 
 redound to his own credit ; and what can equal, in its 
 spirit-stirring enthusiasm, that first moment when we 
 become in any way the arbiter of our own fortunes ? 
 
 Such were my happy thoughts, as with a proud and 
 elated heart I set forth upon my march. The notice the 
 commander-in-chief had bestowed upon me had already 
 done much ; it had raised me in my own estimation, and 
 implanted within me a longing desire for further distinc- 
 tion. I thought, too, of those far, far away, who were 
 yet to hear of my successes. 
 
 I fancied to myself how they would severally receive 
 the news. My poor uncle, with tearful eye and quivering 
 lip, was before me, as I saw him read the despatch, then 
 wipe his glasses, and read on, till at last, with one long- 
 drawn breath, his manly voice, tremulous with emotion, 
 would break forth : " My boy ! my own Charley ! " Then 
 I pictured Considine, with port erect and stern features, 
 listening silently ; not a syllable, not a motion betraying 
 that he felt interested in my fate, till as if impatient, at 
 length he would break in : "I knew it, — I said so ; and 
 yet you thought to make him a lawyer ! " And then old 
 Sir Harry, his warm heart glowing with pleasure, and his 
 good-humored face beaming with happiness, how many 
 a blunder he would make in retailing the news, and how 
 many a hearty laugh his version of it would give rise to ! 
 
 I passed in review before me the old servants, as they 
 lingered in the room to hear the story. Poor old Matthew,
 
 394 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 the butler, fumbling with his corkscrew to gain a little 
 time ; then looking in my uncle's face, half entreatingly, 
 as he asked : " Any news of Master Charles, sir, from 
 the wars ? " 
 
 While thus my mind wandered back to the scenes and 
 faces of my early home, I feared to ask myself how she 
 would feel to whom my heart was now turning. Too 
 deeply did I know how poor my chances were in that 
 quarter to nourish hope, and yet I could not bring myself 
 to abandon it altogether. Hamraersley's strange conduct 
 suggested to me that he, at least, could not be my rival ; 
 while I plainly perceived that he regarded me as his. 
 There was a mystery in all this I could not fathom, and 
 I ardently longed for my next meeting with Power, to 
 learn the nature of his interview, and also in what manner 
 the affair had been arranged. 
 
 Such were my passing thoughts as I pressed forward. 
 My men, picked no less for themselves than their horses, 
 came rapidly along ; and ere evening, we had accomplished 
 twelve leagues of our journey. 
 
 The country through which we journeyed, though wild 
 and romantic in its character, was singularly rich and fertile, 
 — cultivation reaching to the very summits of the rugged 
 mountains, and patches of wheat and Indian corn peeping 
 amidst masses of granite rock and tangled brushwood. The 
 vine and the olive grew wild on every side ; while the orange 
 and the arbutus, loading the air with perfume, were 
 mingled with prickly pear-trees and variegated hollies. 
 We followed no regular track, but cantered along over hill 
 and valley, through forest and prairie, now in long file 
 through some tall field of waving corn, now in open order 
 upon some level plain, — our Portuguese guide riding a 
 little in advance of us, upon a jet-black mule, carolling 
 merrily some wild Gallician melody as he went. 
 
 As the sun was setting, we arrived beside a little stream 
 that flowing along a rocky bed, skirted a vast forest of tall 
 cork-trees. Here we called a halt, and picketing our horses, 
 proceeded to make our arrangements for a bivouac. 
 
 Never do I remember a more lovely night. The watch- 
 fires sent up a delicious odor from the perfumed shrubs;
 
 THE WATCH-FIRE. 395 
 
 while the glassy water reflected on its still surface the 
 starry sky that, unshadowed and unclouded, stretched 
 above us. I wrapped myself in my trooper's mantle, and 
 lay down beneath a tree, — but not to sleep. There was 
 a something so exciting, and withal so tranquillizing, that 
 I had no thought of slumber, but fell into a musing revery. 
 There was a character of adventure in my position that 
 charmed me much. My men were gathered in little 
 groups beside the fires ; some sunk in slumber, others 
 sat smoking silently, or chatting, in a low undertone, of 
 some bygone scene of battle or bivouac ; here and there 
 were picketed the horses ; the heavy panoply and piled 
 carbines flickering in the red glare of the watch-fires, 
 which ever and anon threw a flitting glow upon the stern 
 and swarthy faces of my bold troopers. Upon the trees 
 around, sabres and helmets, holsters and cross-belts, were 
 hung like armorial bearings in some antique hall, the dark 
 foliage spreading its heavy shadow around us. Farther off, 
 upon a little rocky ledge, the erect figure of the sentry, 
 with his short carbine resting in the hollow of his arm, 
 was seen slowly pacing in measured tread, or standing for 
 a moment silently, as he looked upon the fair and tranquil 
 sky, — his thoughts doubtless far, far away, beyond the 
 sea, to some humble home, where, — 
 
 " The hum of the spreading sycamore, 
 That grew beside his cottage door," 
 
 was again in his ears, while the merry laugh of his children 
 stirred his bold heart. It was a Salvator-Rosa scene, and 
 brought me back in fa,ncy to the bandit legends I had read 
 in boyhood. By the uncertain light of the wood embers 
 I endeavored to sketch the group that lay before me. 
 
 The night wore on. One by one the soldiers stretched 
 themselves to sleep, and all was still. As the hours rolled 
 by a drowsy feeling crept gradually over me. I placed 
 my pistols by my side, and having replenished the fire by 
 some fresh logs, disposed myself comfortably before it. 
 
 It was during that half-dreamy state that intervenes 
 between waking and sleep that a rustling sound of the
 
 396 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 branches behind attracted my attention. The air was too 
 calm to attribute this to the wind, so I listened for some 
 minutes ; but sleep, too long deferred, was over-powerful, 
 and my head sank upon my grassy pillow, and I was soon 
 sound asleep. How long I remained thus, I know not ; 
 but I awoke suddenly. I fancied some one had shaken 
 me rudely by the shoulder ; but yet all was tranquil. 
 My men were sleeping soundly as I saw them last. The 
 fires were becoming low, and a gray streak in the sky, as 
 well as a sharp cold feeling of the air, betokened the 
 approach of day. Once more I heaped some dry branches 
 togethei', and was again about to stretch myself to rest, 
 when I felt a hand upon m}' shoulder. I turned quickly 
 round, and by the imperfect light of the fire, saw the figure 
 of a man standing motionless beside me ; his head was 
 bare, and his hair fell in long curls upon his shoulders ; 
 one hand was pressed upon his bosom, and with the other 
 he motioned me to silence. My first impression was that 
 our party were surprised by some French patrol ; but as 
 I looked again, I recognized, to my amazement, that the 
 individual before me was the young French officer I had 
 seen that morning a prisoner beside the Douro. 
 
 " How came you here ? " said I, m a low voice, to him 
 in French. 
 
 " Escaped ; one of my own men threw himself between 
 me and the sentry ; I swam the Douro, received a musket- 
 ball through my arm, lost my shako, and here I am ! " 
 
 " You are aware you are again a prisoner ? " 
 
 " If you desire it, of course I am," said he, in a voice full 
 of feeling that made my very heart creep. "I thought 
 you were a party of Lorge's Dragoons, scouring the countiy 
 for forage ; tracked you the entire day, and have only now 
 come up with you." 
 
 The poor fellow, who had neither eaten nor drunk since 
 daybreak, wounded and footsore, had accomplished twelve 
 leagues of a march only once more to fall into the hands 
 of his enemies. His years could scarcely have numbered 
 nineteen ; his countenance was singularly prepossessing ; 
 and though bleeding and torn, with tattered uniform, and 
 without a covering to his head, there was no mistaking for
 
 THE WATCH-FIRE. 397 
 
 a moment that he was of gentle blood. Xoiselessly and 
 cautiously I made him sit down beside the fire, while I 
 .spread before him the sparing remnant of my last night's 
 supper, and shared my solitary bottle of sherry with him. 
 
 From the moment he spoke, I never entertained a 
 thought of making him a prisoner ; but as I knew not how 
 far I was culpable in permitting, if not actually facilitating, 
 his escape, I resolved to keep the circumstance a secret 
 from my party, and if possible, get him away before 
 daybreak. 
 
 No sooner did he learn my intentions regarding him, 
 than in an instant all memory of his past misfortune, all 
 thoughts of his present destitute condition, seemed to have 
 fled; and while I dressed his wound and bound up his 
 shattered arm, he chattered away as unconcernedly about 
 the past and the future as though seated beside the fire of 
 his own bivouac, and surrounded by his own brother 
 officers. 
 
 " You took us by surprise the other day," said he. " Our 
 marshal looked for the attack from the mouth of the river ; 
 we received information that your ships were expected 
 there. In any case, our retreat was an orderly one, and 
 must have been effected with slight loss." 
 
 I smiled at the self-complacency of this reasoning, but 
 did not contradict him. 
 
 "Your loss must indeed have been great; your men 
 crossed under the fire of a whole battery." 
 
 "Not exactly," said I; "our first party were quietly 
 stationed in Oporto before you knew anything about it." 
 
 "Ah, sacre Dieu ! Treachery ! " cried he, striking his 
 forehead with his clinched fist. 
 
 " Not so ; mere daring, — nothing more. But come, tell 
 me something of your own adventures. How were you 
 taken ? " 
 
 " Simply thus, — I was sent to the rear with orders to 
 the artillery to cut their traces, and leave the guns ; and 
 when coming back, my horse grew tired in the heavy 
 ground, and I was spurring him to the utmost, when one 
 of your heavy dragoons — an officer, too — dashed at me, 
 and actually rode me down, horse and all. I lay for some
 
 398 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 time bruised by the fall, when an infantry soldier passing 
 by seized me by the collar, and brought me to the rear. 
 No matter, howevei-, here I am now. You will not give 
 me up ; and perhaps I may one day live to rej)ay the 
 kindness." 
 
 " You have not long joined ? " 
 
 " It was my first battle ; my epaulettes were very smart 
 things yesterday, though they do look a little passes to-day. 
 You are advancing, I suppose ? " 
 
 I smiled without answering this question. 
 
 " Ah, I see you don't wish to speak. Kever mind, your 
 discretion is thrown away upon me ; for if I rejoined my 
 regiment to-morrow, I should have forgotten all you told 
 me, — all but your great kindness." These last words he 
 spoke, bowing slightly his head, and coloring as he said 
 them. 
 
 " You are a dragoon, I think ? " said I, endeavoring to 
 change the topic. 
 
 " I was, two days ago, chasseur a cheval, a sous-lieutenant, 
 in the regiment of my father, the General St. Croix." 
 
 " The name is familiar to me," I replied, " and I am 
 sincerely happy to be in a position to serve the son of so 
 distinguished an officer." 
 
 " The son of so distinguished an officer is most deeply 
 obliged, but wishes with all his heart and soul he had 
 never sought glory under such very excellent auspices. 
 You look surprised, mon cher ; but let me tell you, my 
 military ardor is considerably abated in the last three 
 days. Hunger, thirst, imprisonment, and this " — lifting his 
 wounded limb as he spoke — " are sharp lessons in so short 
 a campaign, and for one too, whose life hitherto had much 
 more of ease than adventure to boast of. Shall I tell you 
 how I became a soldier ? " 
 
 " By all means ; give me your glass first ; and now, with 
 a fresh log to the fire, I 'm your man." 
 
 " But stay ; before I begin, look to this." 
 
 The blood was flowing rapidly from his wound, which 
 with some difficulty I succeeded in stanching. He drank 
 off his wine hastily, held out his glass to be refilled, and 
 then began his story.
 
 THE WATCH-FIRE. 399 
 
 " You have never seen the Emperor ? " 
 
 *' Never." 
 
 " Sacrebleu ! What a man he is ! I 'd rather stand under 
 the fire of your grenadiers, than meet his eye. When in 
 a passion, he does not say much, it is true ; but what he 
 does, comes with a kind of hissing, rushing sound, while 
 the very fire seems to kindle in his look. I have him be- 
 fore me this instant, and though you will confess that my 
 present condition has nothing very pleasing in it, I should 
 be sorry indeed to change it for the last time I stood in 
 his presence. . 
 
 " Two months ago I sported the gay light-blue and silver 
 of a page to the Emperor, and certainly, what with balls, 
 bonbons, flirtation, gossip, and champagne suppers, led a 
 very gay, reckless, and indolent life of it. Somehow, — 
 I may tell you more accurately at another period, if we 
 ever meet, — I got myself into disgrace, and as a punish- 
 ment, was ordered to absent myself from the Tuileries, 
 and retire for some weeks to Fontainebleau. Siberia to a 
 Kussian would scarcely be a heavier infliction than was 
 this banishment to me. There was no court, no levee, no 
 military parade, no ball, no opera. A small household of 
 the Emperor's chosen servants quietly kept house there. 
 The gloomy walls re-echoed to no music ; the dark alleys 
 of the dreary garden seemed the very impersonation of 
 solitude and decay. Nothing broke the dull monotony of 
 the tiresome day, except when occasionally, near sunset, 
 the clash of the guard would be heard turning out, and 
 the clank of presenting arms, followed by the roll of a 
 heavy carriage into the gloomy courtyard. One lamp, 
 shining like a star, in a small chamber on the second floor, 
 would remain till near foi;r, sometimes five o'clock in the 
 morning. The same sounds of the guard and the same 
 dull roll of the carriage would break the stillness of the 
 early morning ; and the Emperor — for it was he — would 
 be on his road back to Paris. 
 
 " We never saw him, — I say we, for like myself some 
 half-dozen others were also there, expiating their follies by 
 a life of cheerless ennui. 
 
 " It was upon a calm evening in April, we sat together
 
 400 CHARLES 0':\rALLEY. 
 
 chatting over the various misdeeds which had consigned us 
 to exile, when some one proposed, by way of passing the 
 time, that we should visit the small flower-garden that was 
 parted off from the rest, and reserved for the Emperor alone. 
 It was already beyond the hour he usually came ; besides 
 that, even should he arrive, there was abundant time to get 
 back before he could possibly reach it. The garden we had 
 often seen, but there was something in the fact that our 
 going there was a transgression that so pleased us all that 
 we agreed at once and set forth. For above an hour we 
 loitered about the lonely and deserted walks, where already 
 the Emperor's foot-tracks had worn a marked pathway, when 
 we grew weary and were about to return, just as one of the 
 party suggested, half in ridicule of the sanctity of the spot, 
 that we should have a game of leap-frog ere we left it. The 
 idea pleased us and was at once adopted. Our plan was 
 this, — each person stationed himself in some by -walk or 
 alley, and waited till the other, whose turn it was, came and 
 leaped over him; so that, besides the activity displayed, 
 there was a knowledge of the locale necessary ; for to any 
 one passed over a forfeit was to be paid. Our game began 
 at once, and certainly I doubt if ever those green alleys and 
 shady groves rang to such hearty laughter. Here would be 
 seen a couple rolling over together on the grass ; there some 
 luckless wight counting out his pocket-money to pay his 
 penalty. The hours passed quietly over, and the moon 
 rose, and at last it came to my turn to make the tour of 
 the garden. As I was supposed to know all its intricacies 
 better than the rest, a longer time was given for them to 
 conceal themselves ; at length the word was given, and I 
 started. 
 
 "Anxious to acquit myself well, I hurried along at top 
 speed, but guess my surprise to discover that nowhere could 
 I find one of my companions. Down one walk I scampered, 
 up another, across a third, but all was still and silent ; not 
 a sound, not a breath, could I detect. There was still one 
 part of the garden unexplored ; it was a small open space 
 before a little pond which usually contained the gold fish 
 the Emperor was so fond of. Thither I bent my steps, and 
 had not gone far when in the pale moonlight I saw, at
 
 THE WATCH-FIRE. 401 
 
 ifength, one of my companions waiting patiently for my 
 coming, his head bent forward and his shoulders rounded. 
 Anxious to repay him for my own disappointment, I crept 
 silently forward on tiptoe till quite near him, when, rushing 
 madly ou, I sprang upon his back ; just, however, as I rose 
 to leap over, he raised his head, and, staggered by the im- 
 pulse of my spring, he was thrown forward, and after an 
 ineffectual effort to keep his legs fell fiat upon his face in 
 the grass. Bursting with laughter, I fell over him on the 
 ground, and was turning to assist him, when suddenly he 
 sprang .upon his feet, and — horror of horrors! — it was 
 Napoleon himself; his usually pale features were purple 
 with rage, but not a Avord, not a syllable escaped him. 
 
 " ' Qui etes vous ? ' said he, at length. 
 
 " ' St. Croix, Sire,' said I, still kneeling before him, while 
 my very heart leaped into my mouth. 
 
 " ' St. Croix ! toujours St. Croix ! Come here ; approach 
 me,' cried he, in a voice of stifled passion. 
 
 " I rose ; but before I could take a step forward he sprang 
 at me, and tearing off my epaulettes trampled them beneath 
 his feet, and then he shouted out, rather than spoke, the 
 word ' Allez ! ' 
 
 " I did not wait for a second intimation, but clearing the 
 paling at a spring, was many a mile from Fontainebleau 
 before daybreak." 
 
 VOL. I. — 2€
 
 CHAPTER LL 
 
 THE MARCH. 
 
 Twice the revell sounded; the horses champed impa- 
 tiently their heavy bits ; my men stood waiting for the 
 order to mount, ere I coukl arouse myself from the deep 
 sleep I had fallen into. The young Frenchman and his 
 story were in my dreams, and when I awoke, his figure, as 
 he lay sleeping beside the wood embers, was the first object 
 I perceived. There he lay, to all seeming as forgetful of 
 his fate as though he still inhabited the gorgeous halls and 
 gilded saloons of the Tuileries ; his pale and handsome 
 features wore even a placid smile as, doubtless, some dream 
 of other days flitted across him ; his long hair waved in 
 luxurious curls upon his neck, and his light-brown mus- 
 tache, slightly curled at the top, gave to his mild and youth- 
 ful features an air of saucy fierte that heightened their 
 effect. A narrow blue ribbon which he wore round his 
 throat gently peeped from his open bosom. I could not 
 resist the curiosity I felt to see what it meant, and drawing 
 it softly forth, I perceived that a small miniature was at- 
 tached to it. It was beautifully painted, and surrounded 
 with brilliants of some value. One glance showed me, — 
 for I had seen more than one engraving before of her, — 
 that it was the portrait of the Empress Josephine. Poor 
 boy ! he doubtless was a favorite at court ; indeed, every- 
 thing in his air and manner bespoke him such. I gently 
 replaced the precious locket and turned from the spot to 
 think over what was best to be done for him. Knowing the 
 vindictive feeling of the Portuguese towards their invaders, 
 I feared to take Pietro, our guide, into my confidence. I 
 accordingly summoned my man Mike to my aid, who, with 
 all his country's readiness, soon found out an expedient. 
 It was to pretend to Pietro that the prisoner was merely an 
 English officer who had made his escape from the French
 
 THE MARCH. 403 
 
 army, in whicli, against his will, he had been serving for 
 some time. 
 
 This plan succeeded perfectly; and when St. Croix, 
 mounted upon one of my led horses, set out upon his 
 march beside me, none was more profuse of his attentions 
 than the dark-brown guide whose hatred of a Frenchman 
 was beyond belief. 
 
 By thus giving him safe conduct through Portugal, I 
 knew that when we reached the frontier he could easily 
 manage to come up with some part of Marshal Victor's 
 force, the advanced guard of which lay on the left bank of 
 the Tagus. 
 
 To me the companionship was the greatest boon ; the gay 
 and buoyant spirit that no reverse of fortune, no untoward 
 event, could subdue, lightened many an hour of the journey ; 
 and though at times the gasconading tone of the Frenchman 
 would peep through, there was still such a fund of good- 
 tempered raillery in all he said that it was impossible to 
 feel angry with him. His implicit faith in the Emperor's 
 invincibility also amused me. Of the unbounded confidence 
 of the nation in general, and the army particularly, in Na- 
 poleon, I had till then no conception. It was not that in the 
 profound skill and immense resources of the general they 
 trusted, but they actually regarded him as one placed above 
 all the common accidents of fortune, and revered him as 
 something more than human. 
 
 " 11 viendra et puis — " was the continued exclamation of 
 the young Frenchman. Any notion of our successfully re- 
 sisting the overwhelming might of the Emperor, he would 
 have laughed to scorn, and so I let him go on prophesying 
 our future misfortunes till the time when, driven back upon 
 Lisbon, we should be compelled to evacuate the Peninsula, 
 and under favor of a convention be permitted to return to 
 England. All this was sufficiently ridiculous, coming from 
 a youth of nineteen, wounded, in misery, a prisoner ; but 
 further experience of his nation has shown me that St. 
 Croix was not the exception, but the rule. The conviction 
 in the ultimate success of their ^rmy, whatever be the 
 merely momentary mishap, is the one present thought of 
 a Frenchman ; a victory with them is a conquest ; a defeat,
 
 404 
 
 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 — if they are by any chance driven to acknowledge one, — 
 a fatalite. 
 
 I was too young a man, and still more, too young a soldier, 
 to bear with this absurd affectation of superiority as I ought, 
 and consequently was glad to wander, whenever I could, 
 from the contested point of our national superiority to other 
 topics. St. Croix, although young, had seen much of the 
 world as a page in the splendid court of tlie Tuileries ; the 
 scenes passing before his eyes were calculated to make a 
 
 .-^ja; 
 
 strong impression ; and by many an anecdote of his former 
 life, he lightened the road as we passed along. 
 
 '* You promised, by-the-bye, to tell me of your banishment. 
 How did that occur, St. Croix ? " 
 
 " Ah, par Dleu / that was an unfortunate affair for me ; 
 then began all my misliaps. But for that, I should never 
 have been sent to rontaine])leau ; never have played leap- 
 frog with the Emperor; never have been sent a soldier into 
 Spain. True," said he, laughing, " I should never have had
 
 THE MARCH. 405 
 
 the happiness of your acquaintance. But still, I 'd much 
 rather have met you first in the Place des Victoires than in 
 the Estrella Mountains." 
 
 " Who knows ? " said I ; " perhaps your good genius pre- 
 vailed in all this." 
 
 " Perhaps," said he, interrupting me ; " that 's exactly 
 what the Empress said, — she was my godmother, — ' Jules 
 will be a Marechal de France yet.' But certainly, it must 
 be confessed, I have made a bad beginning. However, you 
 wish to hear of ray disgrace at court. Allans done. But 
 had we not better wait for a halt ? " 
 
 "Agreed," said I; "and so let us now press forward."
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 THE PAGE. 
 
 Under the deep shade of some tall trees, sheltered from 
 the noonday sun, we lay down to rest ourselves and enjoy a 
 most patriarchal dinner, — some dry biscuits, a few bunches 
 of grapes, and a little weak wine, savoring more of the 
 borachio-skin than the vine-juice, were all we boasted; yet 
 they were not ungrateful at such a time and place. 
 
 " Whose health did you pledge then ? " inquired St. 
 Croix, with a half-malicious smile, as I raised the glass 
 silently to my lips. 
 
 I blushed deeply, and looked confused. 
 
 " A ses beux yeux ! whoever she be," said he, gayly tossing 
 off his wine ; " and now, if you feel disposed, I '11 tell you 
 my story. In good truth, it is not worth relating, but it 
 may serve to set you asleep, at all events. 
 
 " I have already told you I was a page. Alas, the im- 
 pressions you may feel of that functionary, from having 
 seen Cherubino, give but a faint notion of him when per- 
 taining to the household of the Emperor Napoleon. 
 
 " The farfallone amoroso basked in the soft smiles and 
 sunny looks of the Countess Almaviva ; we met but the cold, 
 impassive look of Talleyrand, the piercing and penetrating 
 stare of Savary, or the ambiguous smile, half menace, half 
 mockery, of ]\Ionsieur Fouch^. While on service, our days 
 were passed in the antechamber, beside the salle d^audience 
 of the Emperor, reclining against the closed door, watching 
 attentively for the gentle tinkle of the little bell which sum- 
 moned us to open for the exit of some haughty diplomate, or 
 the entree of some redoubted general. Thus passed we the 
 weary hours ; the illustrious visitors by whom we were sur- 
 rounded had no novelty, consequently no attraction for us, 
 and the names already historical were but household words 
 with us.
 
 THE PAGE. 407 
 
 " We often remarked, too, the proud, and distant bearing 
 the Emperor assumed towards those of his generals who 
 had been liis former companions-in-arms. Whatever famil- 
 iarity or freedom may have existed in the campaign or in 
 the battle-field, the air of the Tuileries certainly chilled it. 
 I have often heard that the ceremonious observances and 
 rigid etiquette of the old Bourbon court were far prefer- 
 able to the stern reserve and unbending stiffness of the 
 imperial one. 
 
 '^ The antechamber is but the reflection of the reception- 
 room ; and whatever be the whims, the caprices, the little- 
 ness of the Great Man, they are speedily assumed by his 
 inferiors, and the dark temper of one casts a lowering 
 shadow on every menial by whom he is surrounded. 
 
 " As for us, we were certainly not long in catching some- 
 what of the spirit of the Emperor ; and I doubt much if 
 the impertinence of the waiting-room was not more dreaded 
 and detested than the abrupt speech and searching look of 
 Napoleon himself. 
 
 "What a malicious pleasure have I not felt in arrest- 
 ing the step of M. de Talleyrand, as he approached the Em- 
 peror's closet ! With what easy insolence have I lisped out, 
 * Pardon, Monsieur, but his Majesty cannot receive you,' or 
 'Monsieur le Due, his Majesty has given no orders for your 
 admission.' How amusing it was to watch the baffled look 
 of each, as he retired once more to his place among the 
 crowd, the wily diplomate covering his chagrin with a prac- 
 tised smile, while the stern marshal would blush to his very 
 eyes with indignation ! This was the great pleasure our 
 position afforded us, and with a boyish spirit of mischief, 
 we cultivated it to perfection, and became at last the very 
 horror and detestation of all who frequented the levees ; 
 and the ambassador whose fearless voice was heard among 
 the councils of kings became soft and conciliating in his 
 approaches to us ; and the hardy general who would have 
 charged upon a brigade of artillery was timid as a girl in 
 addressing us a mere question. 
 
 " Among the amiable class thus characterized I was most 
 conspicuous, preserving cautiously a tone of civility that 
 left nothing openly to complain of. I assumed an indif-
 
 408 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 ference and impartiality of manner that no exigency of 
 affairs, no pressing haste, could discompose or disturb ; 
 and my bow of recognition to Soult or Massena was as 
 coolly measured as my monosyllabic answer was accurately 
 conned over. 
 
 " Upon ordinary occasions the Emperor at the close of 
 each person's audience rang his little bell for the admission 
 of the next in order as they arrived in the waiting-room ; 
 yet when anything important was under consideration, a 
 list was given us m the morning of the names to be pre- 
 sented in rotation, which no casual circumstance was ever 
 suffered to interfere with. 
 
 " It is now about four months since, one fine morning, 
 such a list was placed within my hands. His Majesty was 
 just then occupied with an inquiry into the naval force of 
 the kingdom ; and as I cast my eyes carelessly over the 
 names, I read little el^ than Vice-Admiral So-and-so, Com- 
 mander Such-a-one, and Chef d'Escardron Such-another, and 
 the levee presented accordingly, instead of its usual bril- 
 liant array of gorgeous uniform and aiguilletted marshals, 
 the simple blue-and-gold of the naval service. 
 
 " The marine was not in high favor with the Emperor ; 
 and truly, my reception of these unfrequent visitors was 
 anything but flattering. The early part of the morning 
 was, as usual, occupied by the audience of the Minister of 
 Police, and the Due de Bassano, who evidently, from the 
 length of time they remained, had matter of importance to 
 communicate. Meanwhile the antechamber filled rapidly, 
 and before noon was actually crowded. It was just at this 
 moment that the folding-door slowly opened, and a figure 
 entered, such as I had never before seen in our brilliant 
 saloon. He was a man of five or six and fifty, short, thick- 
 set, and strongly built, with a bronzed and weather-beaten 
 face, and a broad open forehead deeply scarred with a sabre- 
 cut ; a shaggy gray mustache curled over and concealed 
 his mouth, while eyebrows of the same color sliaded his 
 dark and piercing eyes. His dress was a coarse cut of blue 
 cloth such as the fishermen wear in Bretagne, fastened at 
 the waist by a broad belt of black leather, from which hung 
 a short-bladed cutlass j his loose trousers, of the same ma*
 
 THE PAGE. 409 
 
 terial, were turned up at the ankles to show a pair of strong 
 legs coarsely cased in blue stockings and thick-soled shoes. 
 A broad-leaved oil-skin hat was held in one hand, and the 
 other stuck carelessly in his pocket, as he entered. He 
 came in with a careless air, and familiarly saluting one or 
 two officers in the room, he sat himself down near the door, 
 appearing lost in his own reflections. 
 
 " ' Who can you be, my worthy friend ? ' was my ques- 
 tion to myself as I surveyed this singular apparition. At 
 the same time, casting my eyes down the list, I perceived 
 that several pilots of the coast of Havre, Calais, and Bou- 
 logne had been summoned to Paris to give some information 
 upon the soundings and depth of water along the shore. 
 
 " 'Ha,' thought I, ' I have it. The good man has mistaken 
 his place, and instead of remaining without, has walked 
 boldly forward to the antechamber,' 
 
 " There was something so strange and so original in the 
 grim look of the old fellow, as he sat there alone, that I 
 suffered him to remain quietly in his delusion, rather than 
 order him back to the waiting-room without ; besides, I 
 perceived that a kind of sensation was created among 
 the others by his appearance there, which amused me 
 greatly. 
 
 " As the day wore on, the officers formed into little groups 
 of three or four, chatting together in an undertone, — all 
 save the old pilot. He had taken a huge tobacco-box from 
 his capacious breast-pocket, and inserting an immense piece 
 of the bitter weed in his mouth, began to chew it as leisurely 
 as though he were walking the quarter-deck. The cool 
 insouciance of such a proceeding amused me much, and I 
 resolved to draw him out a little. His strong, broad Ike- 
 ton features, his deep voice, his dry, blunt manner, were all 
 in admirable keeping Avith his exterior. 
 
 " 'Par Dieu, my lad,' said he, after chatting some time, 
 ' had you not better tell the Emperor that I am waiting ? 
 It's now past noon, and I must eat something.' 
 
 " 'Have a little patience/ said I ; 'his Majesty is going 
 to invite you to dinner.' 
 
 " ' Be it so,' said he, gravely ; ' provided the hour be an 
 early one, I 'm his man.'
 
 410 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " With difficulty did I keep down my laughter as he said 
 this, and continued. 
 
 " ' So y©u know the Emperor already, it seems ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, that I do ! I remember him when he was no higher 
 than yourself.' 
 
 " ' How delighted he '11 be to find you here ! I hope you 
 have brought up some of your family with you, as the Em- 
 peror would be so flattered by it ? ' 
 
 " ' No, I 've left them at home. This place don't suit us 
 over well. We have plenty to do besides spending our time 
 and money among all you fine folks here.' 
 
 " ' And not a bad life of it, either,' added I, ' fishing for 
 cod and herrings, — stripping a \vreck now and then,' 
 
 " He stared at me, as I said this, like a tiger on the spring, 
 but spoke not a word. 
 
 " ' And how many young sea-wolves may you have in your 
 den at home ? ' 
 
 " ' Six ; and all of them able to carry you with one hand, 
 at arm's length.' 
 
 " ' I have no doubt. I shall certainly not test their abil- 
 ity. But you yourself, — how do you like the capital ? ' 
 
 " ' Not over well ; and I '11 tell you why — ' 
 
 " As he said this the door of the audience-chamber opened, 
 and the Emperor appeared. His eyes flashed fire as he looked 
 hurriedly around the room. 
 
 " * Who is in waiting here ? ' 
 
 " ' I am, please your Majesty,' said I, bowing deeply, as I 
 started from my seat. 
 
 " ' And where is the Admiral Truguet ? Why was he not 
 admitted ? ' 
 
 "'Not present, your Majesty,' said I, trembling with 
 fear. 
 
 " ' Hold there, young fellow ; not so fast. Here he is.' 
 
 "'Ah, Truguet, mon ami/' cried the Emperor, placing 
 both hands on the old fellow's shoulders, 'how long have 
 you been in waiting ? ' 
 
 " ' Two hours and a half,' said he, producing in evidence a 
 watch like a saucer. 
 
 " ' What, two hours and a half, and I not know it ! ' 
 
 " ' No matter; I am always happy to serve your Majesty.
 
 THE PAGE. 411 
 
 But if that fine fellow had not told me that you were going 
 to ask me to dinner — ' 
 
 " ' He ! He said so, did he ? ' said Napoleon, turning on 
 me a glance like a wild beast. ' Yes, Truguet, so I am ; you 
 shall dine with me to-day. And you, sir,' said he, dropping 
 his voice to a whisper, as he came closer towards me, — 
 ' and you have dared to speak thus ? Call in a guard there. 
 Capitaine, put this person under arrest ; he is disgraced. 
 He is no longer page of the palace. Out of my presence ! 
 away, sir ! ' 
 
 " The room wheeled round ; my legs tottered ; my senses 
 reeled ; and I saw no more. 
 
 " Three weeks' bread and water in St. Pelagie, however, 
 brought me to my recollection ; and at last ray kind, my 
 more than kind friend, the Empress, obtained my pardon, 
 and sent me to Fontainebleau, till the Emperor should forget 
 all about it. How I contrived again to refresh his memory 
 I have already told you ; and certainly you will acknowl- 
 edge that I have not been fortunate in my interviews with 
 Napoleon." 
 
 I am conscious how much St. Croix's story loses in my 
 telling. The simple expressions, the grace of the narrative, 
 were its charm ; and these, alas ! I can neither translate nor 
 imitate, no more than I can convey the strange mixture of 
 deep feeling and levity, shrewdness and simplicity, that con- 
 stituted the manner of the narrator. 
 
 With many a story of his courtly career he amused me 
 as we trotted along ; when, towards nightfall of the third 
 day, a peasant informed us that a body of French cavalry 
 occupied the convent of San Cristoval, about three leagues 
 off. The opportunity of his return to his own army pleased 
 him far less than I expected. He heard, without any show 
 of satisfaction, that the time of his liberation had arrived ; 
 and when the moment of leave-taking drew near, he became 
 deeply affected. 
 
 ■ ^^ Eh, hien, Charles," said he, smiling sadly through his 
 dimmed and tearful eyes. ''You've been a kind friend 
 to me. Is the time never to come when I can repay 
 you ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; we '11 meet again, be assured of it. Mean-
 
 412 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 while there is one way you can more than repay anything 
 I have done for you." 
 
 " Oh, name it at once ! " 
 
 " Many a brave fellow of ours is now, and doubtless many 
 more Avill be, prisoners with your army in this war. When- 
 ever, therefore, your lot brings you in contact with such — " 
 
 " They shall be my brothers," said he, sj^ringing towards 
 me and throwing his arms round my neck. "Adieu, adieu ! " 
 With that he rushed from the spot, and before I could speak 
 again, was mounted upon the peasant's horse and waving his 
 hand to me in farewell. 
 
 I looked after him as he rode at a fast gallop down the 
 slope of the green mountain, the noise of the horse's feet 
 echoing along the silent plain. I turned at length to leave 
 the spot, and then perceived for the first time that when 
 taking his farewell of me he had hung around my neck his 
 miniature of the Empress. Poor boy ! How sorrowful I felt 
 thus to rob him of what he had held so dear ! How gladly 
 would I have overtaken him to restore it ! It was the only 
 keepsake he possessed ; and knowing that I would not accept 
 it if offered, he took this way of compelling me to keep it. 
 
 Through the long hours of the summer's night I thought 
 of him ; and when at last I slept, towards morning, my first 
 thought on waking was of the solitary day before me. The 
 miles no longer slipped imperceptibly along ; no longer did 
 the noon and night seem fast to follow. Alas, that one 
 should grow old ! The very sorrows of our early years have 
 something soft and touching in them. Arising less from 
 deep wrong than slight mischances, the grief they cause 
 comes ever with an alloy of pleasant thoughts, telling of 
 the tender past, and amidst the tears called up, forming some 
 bright rainbow of future hope. 
 
 Poor St. Croix had already won greatly upon me, and I 
 felt lonely and desolate when he departed.
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 ALVAS. 
 
 XoTHiNG of incident marked our fartlier progress to- 
 wards the frontier of Spain, and at length we reached the 
 small town of Alvas. It was past sunset as we arrived, 
 and instead of the usual quiet and repose of a little village, 
 we found the streets crowded with people, on horseback 
 and on foot ; mules, bullocks, carts, and wagons blocked 
 up the way, and the oaths of the drivers and the screaming 
 of Avomen and children resounded on all sides. 
 
 With what little Spanish I possessed I questioned some 
 of those near me, and learned, in reply, that a dreadful 
 engagement had taken place that day between the advanced 
 guard of the French, under Victor, and the Lusitanian 
 legion ; that the Portuguese troops had been beaten and 
 completely routed, losing all their artillery and baggage ; 
 that the French were rapidly advancing, and expected 
 hourl}^ to arrive at Alvas, in consequence of which the 
 terror-stricken inhabitants were packing up their posses- 
 sions and hurrying away. 
 
 Here, then, was a point of considerable difficulty for me 
 at once. My instructions had never provided for such a 
 conjuncture, and I was totally unable to determine what was 
 best to be done ; both my men and their horses were com- 
 pletely tired by a march of fourteen leagues, and had a 
 pressing need of some rest ; on every side of me the prepa- 
 rations for flight were proceeding with all the speed that 
 fear inspires ; and to my urgent request for some informa- 
 tion as to food and shelter, I could obtain no other reply 
 than muttered menaces of the fate before me if I remained, 
 and exaggerated accounts of French cruelty. 
 
 Amidst all this bustle and confusion a tremendous fall 
 of heavy rain set in, which at once determined me, come
 
 414 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 what might, to house my party, and provide forage for our 
 horses. 
 
 As we pushed our way slowly through the encumbered 
 streets, looking on every side for some appearance of a 
 village inn, a tremendous shout rose in our rear, and a rush 
 of the people towards us induced us to suppose that the 
 French were upon us. For some minutes the din and up- 
 roar were terrific, — the clatter of horses' feet, the braying 
 of trumpets, the yelling of the mob, all mingling in one 
 frightful concert. 
 
 I formed my men in close column, and waited steadily 
 for the attack, resolving, if possible, to charge through the 
 advancing files, — any retreat through the crowded and 
 blocked-up thoroughfares being totally out of the question. 
 The rain was falling in such torrents that nothing could be 
 seen a few yards off, when suddenly a pause of a few 
 seconds occurred, and from the clash of accoutrements, 
 and the hoarse tones of a loud voice, I judged that the 
 body of men before us were forming for attack. 
 
 Resolving, therefore, to take them by surprise, I gave the 
 word to charge, and spurring our jaded cattle, onward we 
 dashed. The mob fled right and left from us as we came 
 on ; and through the dense mist we could just perceive a 
 body of cavalry before us. 
 
 In an instant we were among them ; down they w^ent on 
 every side, men and horses rolling pell-mell over each 
 other ; not a blow, not a shot striking us as we pressed on. 
 Never did I witness such total consternation ; some threw 
 themselves from their horses, and fled towards the houses ; 
 others turned and tried to fall back, but the increasing 
 pressure from behind held them, and finally succeeded in 
 blocking us up among them. 
 
 It was just at this critical moment that a sudden gleam 
 of light from a window fell \ipon the disordered mass, and 
 to my astonishment, I need not say to my delight, I 
 perceived that they were Portuguese troops. Before I had 
 well time to halt my party, my convictions were pretty 
 well strengthened by hearing a well-known voice in the 
 rear of the mass call out, — 
 
 " Charge, ye devils ! charge, will ye ? Illustrious Hidal-
 
 ALVAS. 
 
 415 
 
 gos ! cut tliem down ; los infidelos, sacrificados los ! Scatter 
 them like chaff ! " 
 
 One roar of laughter was my only answer to this ener- 
 getic appeal for my destruction, and the moment after 
 the dry features and pleasant face of old Monsoon beamed 
 on me by the light of a pine-torch he carried in his right 
 hand. 
 
 "Are they prisoners? Have they surrendered ? " inquired 
 he. riding up. " It is well for them ; we 'd have made 
 
 mince-meat of them otherwise ; now they shall be well 
 treated, and ransomed if they prefer." 
 
 " Gracios excellenze ! " said I, in a feigned voice. 
 
 "Give up your sword," said the major, in an undertone. 
 "You behaved gallantly, but you fought against invin- 
 cibles. Lord love them ! but they are the most terrified 
 invincibles." 
 
 I nearly burst aloud at this.
 
 416 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " It was a close thing which of us ran first," muttered 
 ihe major, as he turned to give some directions to an aide- 
 de-camp. ^' Ask them who they are," said he, in Spanish. 
 
 By tliis time I came close alongside of him, and placing 
 my mouth close to his ear, holloed out, — 
 
 " Monsoon, old fellow, how goes the King of Spain's 
 sherry ? " 
 
 " Eh, what ! Why, upon my life, and so it is, — 
 Charley, my boy, so it 's you, is it ? Egad, how good ; and 
 we were so near being the death of you ! My poor fellow, 
 how came you here ? " 
 
 A few words of explanation sufficed to inform the major 
 why we were there, and still more to comfort him with the 
 assurance tliat he had not been charging the general's staff, 
 and the commander-in-cliief himself. 
 
 " Upon my life, you gave me a great start ; though as 
 long as I thought you were French, it was very well." 
 
 " True, Major, but certainly the invincibles were merci- 
 ful as they were strong." 
 
 " They were tired, Charley, nothing more ; why, lad, 
 we 've been fighting since daybreak, — beat Victor at six 
 o'clock, drove him back behind the Tagus ; took a cold 
 dinner, and had at him again in the afternoon. Lord love 
 you ! we 've immortalized ourselves. But you must never 
 speak of this little business here ; it tells devilish ill for 
 the discipline of your fellows, upon my life it does." 
 
 This was rather an original turn to give the transaction, 
 but I did not oppose; and thus chatting, we entered the 
 little inn, where, confidence once restored, some semblance 
 of comfort already appeared. 
 
 "And so you 're come to reinforce us ?" said Monsoon ; 
 "there was never anything more opportune, — though we 
 surprised ourselves to-day with valor, I don't think we could 
 persevere." 
 
 " Yes, Major, the appointment gave me sincere pleasure ; 
 I greatly desired to see a little service under your orders. 
 Shall I present you with my despatches ? " 
 
 " Not now, Charley, — not now, my lad. Supper is the 
 first thing at this moment ; besides, now that you remind 
 me, I must send off a despatch myself. Upon my life, it 's
 
 ALVAS. 417 
 
 a great piece of fortune that you 're here ; you shall be 
 secretary at war, and write it for me. Here now — how 
 lucky that I thought of it, to be sure ! And it was just a 
 mere chance ; one has so many things — " Muttering such 
 broken, disjointed sentences, the major opened a large port- 
 folio with writing materials, which he displayed before me 
 as he rubbed his hands with satisfaction, and said, " Write 
 away, lad." 
 
 " But, my dear Major, you forget ; I was not in the action. 
 You must describe ; I can only follow you." 
 
 *' Begin then thus : — 
 
 Headquarters, Alvas, June 26. 
 Your Excellency, — Having learned from Don Alphonzo Xavi- 
 ero da Minto, an officer upon my personal staff — 
 
 *• Luckily sober at that moment — " 
 
 That the advanced guard of the eighth corps of the French 
 army — 
 
 " Stay, though, was it the eighth ? Upon my life, I 'm 
 not quite clear as to that ; blot the word a little and go 
 on — " 
 
 That the — corps, under Marshal Yictor, had commenced a for- 
 ward movement towards Alcantara, I immediately ordered a flank 
 movement of the light infantry regiment to cover the bridge over the 
 Tagus. After breakfast — 
 
 " I 'm afraid, Major, that is not precise enough." 
 "Well—" 
 
 About eleven o'clock, the French skirmishers attacked, and drove 
 in our pickets that were posted in front of our position, and follow- 
 ing rapidly up with cavalry, they took a few prisoners, and killed old 
 Alphonzo, — he ran like a man, they say, but they caught him in 
 the rear. 
 
 " You need n't put that in, if you don't like." 
 
 I now directed a charge of the cavalry brigade, under Don 
 Asturias Y'Hajos, that cut them up in fine style. Our artillery, 
 posted on the heights, mowing away at their columns like fun. 
 
 Victor did n't like this, and got into a wood, when we all went 
 to dinner ; it was about two o'clock then. 
 
 After dinner, the Portuguese light corps, under Silva da Onorha, 
 having made an attack upon the enemy's left, without my orders, 
 VOL. I. — 27
 
 418 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 got devilish well trounced, and served them right ; but coming up 
 to their assistance, with the heavy brigade of guns, and the cavalry, 
 we drove back the French, and took several prisoners, none of whom 
 we put to death. 
 
 " Dash that — Sir Arthur likes respect for the usages of 
 war. Lord, how dry I 'in getting ! " 
 
 Tlie French were soon seen to retire their heavy guns, and 
 speedily afterwards retreated. We pursued them for some time, but 
 they showed fight ; and as it was getting dark, I drew off my forces, 
 and came here to supper. Your Excellency will perceive, by the 
 enclosed return, that our loss has been considerable. 
 
 I send this despatch by Don Emanuel Forgales, whose services — 
 
 "I back him for mutton hash with onions against the 
 whole regiment — " 
 
 — have been of the most distinguished nature, and beg to recom- 
 mend him to your Excellency's favor. 
 I have the honor, etc. 
 
 "Is it finished, Charley ? Egad, I'm glad of it, for here 
 comes supper." 
 
 The door opened as he spoke, and displayed a tempting 
 tray of smoking viands, flanked by several bottles, — an 
 officer of the major's staff accompanied it, and showed, by 
 his attentions to the etiquette of the table and the proper 
 arrangement of the meal, that his functions in his superior's 
 household were more than military. 
 
 We were speedily joined by two others in rich uniform, 
 whose names I now forget, but to whom the major presented 
 me in all form, — introducino: me, as well as I could inter- 
 pret his Spanish, as his most illustrious ally and friend Don 
 Carlos O'Malley.
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 THE SUPPER. 
 
 I HAVE often partaken of more luxurious cookery and 
 rarer "wiues; but never do I remember enjoying a mure 
 welcome supper than on this occasion. 
 
 Our Portuguese guests left us soon, and the major and 
 myself were once more tete-a-tete beside a cheerful fire ; a 
 well-chosen array of bottles guaranteeing that for some time 
 at least no necessity of leave-taking should arise from any 
 deficiency of wine. 
 
 " That sherry is very near the thing, Charley ; a little, a 
 very little sharp, but the after-taste perfect. And now, my 
 boy, how have you been doing since we parted ? " 
 
 "Xot so badly, Major. 1 have already got a step in pro- 
 motion. The affair at the Douro gave me a lieutenancy." 
 
 "I wish you joy with all my heart. I '11 call you captain 
 always while you 're with me. Upon my life I will. Why, 
 man, they style me your Excellency here. Bless your heart, 
 we are great folk among the Portuguese, and no bad service, 
 after all." 
 
 " 1 should think not, Major. You seem to have always 
 made a good thing of it." 
 
 " Xo, Charley ; no, my boy. They overlook us greatly in 
 general orders and despatches. Had the brilliant action of 
 to-day been fought by the British — But no matter, they 
 may behave well in England, after all ; and when I 'm 
 called to the Upper House as Baron Monsoon of the Tagus, 
 — is that better than Lord Alcantara ? " 
 
 " I prefer the latter." 
 
 " Well, then, I '11 have it. Lord ! what a treaty I '11 move 
 for with Portugal, to let us have wine cheap. Wine, you 
 know, as Pavid says, gives us a pleasant countenance ; and 
 oil, — I forget what oil does. Pass over the decanter. And
 
 420 CHARLES O'JVIALLEY. 
 
 how is Sir Arthur, Charley ? A fine fellow, but sadly 
 deficient in the knowledge of supplies. Never would have 
 made any character in the coniniissariat. Bless your heart, 
 he pays for everything here as if he were in Cheapside." 
 
 " How absurd, to be sure ! " 
 
 " Is n't it, though ? That was not my way, when I was 
 commissary-general about a year or two ago. To be sure, 
 how I did puzzle them ! They tried to audit my accounts, 
 and what do you think I did ? I brought them in three 
 thousand pounds in my debt. They never tried on that 
 game any more. ' No, no,' said the Junta, * Beresford and 
 Monsoon are great men, and must be treated with respect ! ' 
 Do you think we 'd let them search our pockets ? But 
 the rogues doubled on us after all; they sent us to the 
 northward, — a poor country — " 
 
 ''So that, except a little commonplace pillage of the 
 convents and nunneries, you had little or nothing ? " 
 
 "Exactly so; and then I got a great shock about that 
 time that affected my spirits for a considerable while." 
 
 " Indeed, Major, some illness ? " 
 
 " No, I Avas quite well ; but — Lord, how thirsty it makes 
 me to think of it ; my throat is absolutely parched — I was 
 near being hanged ! " 
 
 " Hanged ! " 
 
 " Yes, Upon my life it 's true, — very horrible, ain't it ? 
 It had a great effect upon my nervous system ; and they 
 never thought of any little jiension to me as a recompense 
 for my sufferings." 
 
 " And who was barbarous enough to think of such a thing, 
 Major ? " 
 
 " Sir Arthur Wellesley himself, — none other, Charley ? " 
 
 " Oh, it was a mistake, Major, or a joke." 
 
 " It was devilish near being a practical one, though. I '11 
 tell you how it occurred. After the battle of Vimeira, the 
 brigade to which I was attached had their headquarters at 
 San Pietro, a large convent where all the church plate for 
 miles around was stored up for safety. A sergeant's 
 guard was accordingly stationed over the refectory, and 
 every precaution taken to prevent pillage, Sir Arthur him- 
 self having given particular orders on the subject. Well,
 
 THE SUPPER. 421 
 
 somehow, — I never could find out how, — but in leaving 
 the place, all the wagons of our brigade had got some 
 trifling articles of small value scattered, as it might be, 
 among their stores, — gold cups, silver candlesticks. Virgin 
 Marys, ivory crucifixes, saints' eyes set in topazes, and 
 martyrs' toes in silver filagree, and a hundred other similar 
 things. 
 
 " One of these confounded bullock-cars broke down just 
 at the angle of the road where the commander-in-chief was 
 standing with his staff to watch the troops defile, and out 
 rolled, among bread rations and salt beef, a whole avalanche 
 of precious relics and church ornaments. Every one stood 
 aghast ! Never was there such a misfortune. No one en- 
 deavored to repair the mishaj), but all looked on in terrified 
 amazement as to what was to follow. 
 
 "'Who has the command of this detachment?' shouted 
 out Sir Arthur, in a voice that made more than one of us 
 tremble. 
 
 "'Monsoon, your Excellency, — Major Monsoon, of the 
 Portuguese brigade.' 
 
 " ' The d — d old rogue, I know him ! ' Upon my life 
 that ^s what he said. ' Hang him up on the spot,' pointing 
 with his finger as he spoke ; ' we shall see if this practice 
 cannot be put a stop to.' And with these words he rode 
 leisurely away, as if he had been merely ordering dinner for 
 a small party. 
 
 " When I came up to the place the halberts were fixed, 
 and Gronow, with a company of the Fusiliers, under arms 
 beside them. 
 
 '"Devilish sorry for it. Major,' said he; 'It's confound- 
 edly unpleasant ; but can't be helped. We 've got orders to 
 see you hanged.' 
 
 "Faith, it was just so he said it, tapping his snuff-box as 
 he spoke, and looking carelessly about him. Now, had it 
 not been for the fixed halberts and the provost-marshal, I 'd 
 not have believed him ; but one glance at them, and another 
 at the bullock-cart with all the holy images, told me at once 
 what had happened. 
 
 '"He only means to frighten me a little ? Is n't that all, 
 Gronow ? ' cried I, in a supplicating voice.
 
 422 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 ("Yerj possibly, Major/ said lie ; ' but I must execute my 
 orders,' 
 
 " ' You '11 surely not — ' Before I could finish, up came 
 Dan Mackinnon, cantering smartly. 
 
 " ' Going to hang old Monsoon, eh, Gronow ? What fun ! ' 
 
 " ' Ain't it, though,' said I, half blubbering. 
 
 *' ' Well, if you 're a good Catholic, you may have your 
 choice of a saint, for, by Jupiter, there's a strong muster of 
 them here.' This cruel allusion was made in reference 
 to the gold and silver effigies that lay scattered about the 
 highway. 
 
 -' ' Dan,' said I, in a whisper, * intercede for me. Do, 
 like a good, kind fellow. You have influence with Sir 
 Arthur.' 
 
 " ' You old siuner,' said he, ' it 's useless.' 
 
 " ' Dan, I '11 forgive you the fifteen pounds.' 
 
 " ' That 3'ou owe me,' said Dan, laughing. 
 
 " ' Who '11 ever be the father to you I have been ? 
 Who '11 mix your punch with burned Madeira, when I 'm 
 gone ? ' said I. 
 
 " ' Well, really, I am sorry for you. Monsoon. I say, 
 Gronow, don't tuck him up for a few minutes ; I '11 speak 
 for the old villain, and if I succeed, I'll wave my handker- 
 chief.' 
 
 "Well, away went Dan at a full gallop. Gronow sat 
 down on a bank, and I fidgeted about in no very enviable 
 frame of mind, the confounded provost-marshal eying me all 
 the while. 
 
 " * I can only give you five minutes more. Major,' said 
 Gronow, placing his watch beside him on the grass. I tried 
 to pray a little, and said three or four of Solomon's proverbs, 
 when he again called out : ' There, you see it won't do ! 
 Sir Arthur is shaking his head.' 
 
 " ' What 's that waving yonder ? ' 
 
 "'The colors of the" 6th Foot. Come, Major, ofE with 
 your stock.' 
 
 " ' Where is Dan now ; what is he doing ? ' — for I could 
 see nothing myself. 
 
 " ' He 's riding beside Sir Arthur. They all seem 
 lausrhincr.'
 
 THE SUPPER. 423 
 
 " ' God forgive them ! what an awful retrospect this will 
 prove to some of them.' 
 
 " ' Time 's up ! " said Gronow, jumping up, and replacing 
 his watch in his pocket. 
 
 " ' Provost-Marshal, be quick now — ' 
 
 " ' Eh ! what 's that ? — there, I see it waving ! There 's 
 a shout too ! ' 
 
 " ' Ay, by Jove ! so it is ; well, you 're saved this time. 
 Major; that's the signal.' 
 
 " So saying, Gronow formed his fellows in line and re- 
 sumed his march quite coolly, leaving me alone on the 
 roadside to meditate over martial law and my pernicious 
 taste for relics. 
 
 " Well, Charley, this gave me a great shock, and I think, 
 too, it must have had a great effect upon Sir Arthur him- 
 self; but, upon my life, he has wonderful nerves. I met 
 him one day afterwards at dinner in Lisbon ; he looked at 
 me very hard for a few seconds : * Eh, Monsoon ! Major 
 Monsoon, I think?' 
 
 " ' Yes, your Excellency,' said I, briefly ; thinking how 
 painful it must be for him to meet me. 
 
 " ' Thought I had hanged you, — know I intended it, — no 
 matter. A glass of wine with you ? ' 
 
 " Upon my life, that was all ; how easily some people 
 can forgive themselves ! But Charley, my hearty, we are 
 getting on slowly with the tipple ; are they all empty ? So 
 thej^ are ! Let us make a sortie on the cellar ; bring a candle 
 with you, and come along." 
 
 We had scarcely proceeded a few steps from the door, 
 when a most vociferous sound of mirth, arising from a 
 neighboring apartment, arrested our progress. 
 
 "Are the dons so convivial, Major ?" said I, as a hearty 
 burst of laughter broke forth at the moment. 
 
 " Upon my life, they surprise me ; I begin to fear they 
 have taken some of our wine." 
 
 We now perceived that "the sounds of merriment came 
 from the kitchen, which opened upon a little courtyard. 
 Into this we crept stealthily, and approaching noiselessly 
 to the window, obtained a peep at the scene within. 
 
 Around a blazing fire, over which hung by a chain a
 
 424 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 massive iron pot, sat a goodly party of some half-dozen 
 people. One group lay in dark shadow ; but the others were 
 brilliantly lighted up by the cheerful blaze, and showed us 
 a portly Dominican friar, with a beard down to his waist, 
 a buxom, dark-eyed girl of some eighteen years, and be- 
 tween the two, most comfortably leaning back, with an 
 arm round each, no less a person than my trusty man 
 Mickey Free. 
 
 It was evident, from the alternate motion of his head, 
 that liis attentions were evenly divided between the church 
 and the fair sex ; although, to confess the truth, they 
 seemed much more favorably received by the latter than 
 the former, — a brown earthen flagon appearing to absorb 
 all the worthy monk's thoughts that he could spare from 
 the contemplation of heavenly objects. 
 
 " Mary, my darlin,' don't be looking at me that way, 
 through the corner of your eye ; I know you 're fond of me, 
 — but the girls always was. You think I'm joking, but 
 troth I would n't say a lie before the holy man beside me ; 
 sure I would n't. Father ? " 
 
 The friar grunted out something in reply, not very un- 
 like, in sound at least, a hearty anathema. 
 
 " Ah, then, is n't it yourself has the illigant time of it, 
 Father dear!" said he, tapping him familiarly upon his 
 ample paunch, "and nothing to trouble you; the best of 
 divarsion wherever you go, and whether it 's Badahos or 
 Ballykilruddery, it 's all one ; the women is fond of ye. 
 Father Murphy, the coadjutor in Scariff, Avas just such 
 another as yourself, and he 'd coax the birds off the trees 
 with the tongue of him. Give us a pull at the pipkin be- 
 fore it 's all gone, and I '11 give you a chant." 
 
 With this he seized the jar, and drained it to the bottom ; 
 the smack of his lips as he concluded, and the disappointed 
 look of the friar as he peered into the vessel, throwing the 
 others, once more, into a loud burst of laughter. 
 
 " And now, 3'our rev'rance, a good chorus is all I '11 ask, 
 and you '11 not refuse it for the honor of the church." 
 
 So saying, he turned a look of most droll expression upon 
 the monk, and began the following ditty, to the air of 
 " Saint Patrick was a Gentleman " : —
 
 
 <_ '!'^./'<?' ^/^a^/e€y?za> ^-ee-^.
 
 THE SUPPER. 425 
 
 What an illegant life a friar leads, 
 
 With a fat round paunch before him ! 
 He mutters a prayer and counts his beads. 
 
 And all the women adore him. 
 It's little he 's troubled to work or think, 
 
 Wherever devotion leads him ; 
 A " pater" pays for his dinner and drink, 
 
 For the Church — good luck to her ! — feeds him. 
 
 From the cow in the field to the pig in the sty, 
 
 From the maid to the lady in satin, 
 They tremble wherever he turns an eye. 
 
 He can talk to the Devil in Latin ! 
 He 's mighty severe to the ugly and ould. 
 
 And curses like mad when he 's near 'em ; 
 But one beautiful trait of him I 've been tould, 
 
 The innocent craytures don't fear him. 
 
 It 's little for spirits or ghosts he cares ; 
 
 For 't is true as the world supposes, 
 With an Ave he 'd make them march down-stairS, 
 
 Av they dared to show their noses. 
 The Devil himself 's afraid, 'tis said, 
 
 And dares not to deride him ; 
 For " angels make each night his bed. 
 
 And then — lie down beside him." 
 
 A perfect burst of laughter from Monsoon prevented my 
 hearing how Mike's minstrelsy succeeded within doors ; but 
 W'hen I looked again, I found that the friar had decamped, 
 leaving the field open to his rival, — a circumstance, I could 
 plainly perceive, not disliked by either party. 
 
 "Come back, Charley, that villain of yours has given 
 me the cramp, standing here on the cold pavement. We '11 
 have a little w^arm posset, — very small and thin, as they 
 say in Tom Jones, — and then to bed." 
 
 Notwithstanding the abstemious intentions of the major, 
 it was daybreak ere we separated, and neither party in a 
 condition for performing upon the tight-rope.
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 THE LEGION. 
 
 My services wliile with the Legion were of no very 
 distinguished character, and require no lengthened chron- 
 icle. Their great feat of arms, the repulse of an advanced 
 guard of Victor's corps, had taken place the very morning 
 I had joined them, and the ensuing month was passed in 
 soft repose upon their laurels. 
 
 For the first few days, indeed, a multiplicity of cares 
 beset the worthy major. There was a despatch to be 
 written to Beresford, another to the Supreme Junta, a 
 letter to Wilson, at that time with the corps of observation 
 to the eastward. There were some wounded to be looked 
 after, a speech to be made to the conquering heroes them- 
 selves, and lastly, a few prisoners were taken, whose fate 
 seemed certainly to partake of the most uncertain of war's 
 proverbial chances. 
 
 The despatches gave little trouble ; with some very slight 
 alterations, the great original, already sent forward to Sir 
 Arthur, served as a basis for the rest. The wounded were 
 forwarded to Alcantara, with a medical staff ; to whom 
 Monsoon, at parting, pleasantly hinted that he expected to 
 see all the sick at their duty by an early day, or he would 
 be compelled to report the doctors. The speech, which was 
 intended as a kind of general order, he deferred for some 
 favorable afternoon when he could get iip his Portuguese ; 
 and lastly, came the prisoners, by far the most diflRcult of 
 all his cares. As for the few common soldiers taken, they 
 gave him little uneasiness, — as Sir John has it, they were 
 " mortal men, and food for powder ; " but there was a staff- 
 officer among them, aiguilletted and epauletted. The very 
 decorations he wore were no common temptation. Now, the 
 major deliberated a long time with himself, whether the 
 usages of modern war might not admit of the ancient, time-
 
 THE LEGION. 427 
 
 honored practice of ransom. The battle, save in glory, had 
 been singularly unproductive : plunder there was none ; 
 the few ammunition-wagons and gun-carriages were worth 
 little or nothing; so that, save the prisoners, nothing re- 
 mained. It was late in the evening — the mellow hour of 
 the major's meditations — when he ventured to open his 
 heart to me upon the matter. 
 
 "I was just thinking, Charley, how very superior they 
 were in olden times to us moderns, in many matters, and 
 nothing more than in their treatment of prisoners. They 
 never took them away from their friends and country; 
 they always ransomed them, — if they had wherewithal to 
 pay their way. So good-natured ! — upon my life it was a 
 most excellent custom ! They took any little valuables they 
 found about them, and then put them up at auction. Moses 
 and Eleazar, a priest, we are told, took every piece of gold, 
 and their wrought jewels, — meaning their watches, and ear- 
 rings. You need n't laugh, they all wore ear-rings, those 
 fellows did. Xow, why shouldn't I profit by their good 
 example ? I have taken Agag, the King of the Amalekites, 
 — no, but upon ray life, I have got a French major, and I'd 
 let him go for fifty doubloons." 
 
 It was not without much laughing, and some eloquence, 
 that I could persuade Monsoon that Sir Arthur's military 
 notions might not accept of even the authority of Moses; 
 and as our headquarters were at no great distance, the 
 danger of such a step as he meditated was too considerable 
 at such a moment. 
 
 As for ourselves, no fatiguing drills, no harassing field- 
 days, and no provoking inspections interfered with the easy 
 current of our lives. Foraging parties there were, it was 
 true, and some occasional outpost duty was performed. But 
 the ofiicers for both were selected with a tact that proved 
 the major's appreciation of character; for while the gay, 
 joyous fellow that sung a jovial song and loved his liquor 
 was certain of being entertained at headquarters, the less- 
 gifted and less-congenial spirit had the happiness of scour- 
 ing the country for forage, and presenting himself as a 
 target to a French rifle. 
 
 ]My own endeavors to fulfil my instructions met with but
 
 428 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 little encouragement or support; and although I labored 
 hard at my task, I must confess that the soil was a most 
 ungrateful one. The cavalry were, it is true, composed 
 mostly of young fellows well-appointed, and in most cases 
 well-mounted ; but a more disorderly, careless, undisciplined 
 set of good-humored fellows never formed a corps in the 
 world. 
 
 Monsoon's opinions were felt in every branch of the 
 service, from the adjutant to the drumboy, — the same reck- 
 less, indolent, plunder-loving spirit prevailed everywhere. 
 And although under fire they showed no lack of gallantry 
 or courage, the moment of danger passed, discipline departed 
 with it, and their only conception of benefiting by a victory 
 consisted in the amount of pillage that resulted from it. 
 
 From time to time the rumors of great events reached us. 
 We heard that Soult, having succeeded in re-organizing his 
 beaten army, was, in conjunction with Key's corps, return- 
 ing from the north ; that the marshals were consolidating 
 their forces in the neighborhood of Talavera ; and that King 
 Joseph himself, at the head of a large army, had marched 
 for Madrid. 
 
 Menacing as such an aspect of affairs was, it had little 
 disturbed the major's equanimity ; and when our advanced 
 posts reported daily the intelligence that the French were 
 in retreat, he cared little with what object of concentrating 
 they retired, provided the interval between us grew gradu- 
 ally wider. His speculations upon the future were singu- 
 larly prophetic. " You '11 see, Charley, what will happen ; 
 old Cuesta will pursue them, and get thrashed. The 
 English will come up, and perhaps get thrashed too ; but 
 we, God bless us ! are only a small force, partially organ- 
 ized and ill to depend on, — we '11 go up the mountains till 
 all IS over ! " Thus did the major's discretion not only extend 
 to the avoidance of danger, but he actually disqualified him- 
 self from even making its acquaintance. 
 
 Meanwhile our operations consisted in making easy 
 marches to Almarez, halting wherever the commissariat 
 reported a well-stocked cellar or well-furnished hen-roost, 
 taking the primrose path in life, and being, in words of the 
 major, " contented and grateful, even amidst great perils ! "
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 On the morning of the 10th July a despatch reached us 
 announcing that Sir Arthur Wellesley had taken up his 
 lieadquartei'S at Placentia for the pvirj^ose of communicat- 
 ing with Cuesta, then at Casa del Puerto ; and ordering me 
 immediately to repair to the Spanish headquarters and await 
 Sir Arthur's arrival, to make my report upon the effective 
 state of our corps. As for me, I was heartily tired of the 
 inaction of my present life, and much as I relished the 
 eccentricities of my friend the major, longed ardently for a 
 different sphere of action. 
 
 Not so Monsoon ; the prospect of active employment and 
 the thoughts of being left once more alone, for his Portuguese 
 staff afforded him little society, depressed him greatly ; and 
 as the hour of my departure drew near, he ajipeared lower 
 in spirits than I had ever seen him. 
 
 "■ I shall be very lonely without you, Charley," said he, 
 with a sigh, as we sat the last evening together beside our 
 cheerful wood fire. " I have little intercourse with the 
 dons ; for my Portuguese is none of the best, and only 
 conies when the evening is far advanced ; and besides, the 
 villains, I fear, may remember the sherry affair. Two of 
 my present staff were with me then." 
 
 " Is that the story Power so often alluded to, Major ; the 
 King of Spain's — " 
 
 " There, Charley, hush ; be cautious, my boy. I 'd rather 
 not speak about that till we get among our own fellows." 
 
 "Just as you like, Major; but, do you know, I have a 
 strong curiosity to hear the narrative." 
 
 " If 1 'm not mistaken, there is some one listening at the 
 door, — gently ; that 's it, eh ? " 
 
 " Xo, we are perfectly alone ; the night 's early ; who
 
 430 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 knows when we shall have as quiet an hour again to- 
 gether ? Let me hear it, by all means." 
 
 " Well, I don't care ; the thing, Heaven knows ! is toler- 
 ably well known ; so if you '11 amuse yourself making a 
 devil of the turkey's legs there, I '11 tell you the story. 
 It 's very short, Charley, and there 's no moral ; so you 're 
 not likely to repeat it." 
 
 So saying, the major filled up his glass, drew a little 
 closer to the fire, and began : — 
 
 " When the French troops, under Laborde, were marching, 
 upon Alcobaca, in concert Avith Loison's corps, I was ordered 
 to convey a very valuable present of sherry the Due d' Albu- 
 querque was making to the Supreme Junta, — no less than 
 ten hogsheads of the best sherry the royal cellars of Madrid 
 had formerly contained. 
 
 " It was stored in the San Vincente convent ; and the 
 Junta, knowing a little about monkish tastes and the wants 
 of the Church, prudently thought it would be quite as well 
 at Lisbon. I was accordingly ordered, with a sufficient 
 force, to provide for its safe conduct and secure arrival, and 
 set out upon my march one lovely morning in April Avith my 
 precious convoy. 
 
 "I don't know, I never could understand, why tempta- 
 tions are thrown in our way in this life, except for the 
 pleasure of yielding to them. As for me, I 'm a stoic when 
 there 's nothing to be had ; but let me get a scent of a well- 
 kept haunch, the odor of a wine-bin once m my nose, I 
 forget everything except appropriation. That bone smells 
 deliciously, Charley ; a little garlic woiild improve it vastly. 
 
 " Our road lay through cross-paths and mountain tracts, 
 for the French were scouring the country on every side, and 
 my fellows, only twenty altogether, trembled at the very 
 name of them ; so that our only chance was to avoid fall- 
 ing in with any forage parties. We journeyed along for 
 several days, rarely making more than a few leagues be- 
 tween sunrise and sunset, a scout always in advance to 
 assure us that all was safe. The road was a lonesome one 
 and the way weary, for I had no one to speak to or converse 
 with, so I fell into a kind of musing fit about the old wine 
 in the great brown casks. I thought on its luscious flavor.
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 431 
 
 its rich straw tint, its oily look as it flowed into the glass, 
 the mellow after-taste warming the heart as it went down, 
 and I absolutely thought I could smell it through the wood. 
 
 " How I longed to broach one of them, if it were only to 
 see if my dreams about it were correct. ' May be it 's brown 
 sherry,' thought I, ' and I am all wrong.' This was a very 
 distressing reflection. I mentioned it to the Portuguese 
 intendant, who travelled with us as a kind of supercai-go ; 
 but the villain only grinned and said something about the 
 Junta and the galleys for life, so I did not recur to it after- 
 wards. Well, it was upon the third evening of our march 
 that the scout reported that afc Merida, about a league dis- 
 tant, he had fallen in with an English cavalry regiment, 
 who Avere on their march to the northern provinces, and 
 remaining that night in the village. As soon, therefore, as 
 I had made all my arrangements for the night, I took a 
 fresh horse and cantered over to have a look at my country- 
 men, and hear the news. "When I arrived, it was a dark 
 night, but I was not long in finding out our fellows. They 
 were the 11th Light Dragoons, commanded by my old friend 
 Bowes, and Avith as jolly a mess as any in the service. 
 
 " Before half an hour's time I was in the midst of them, 
 hearing all about the campaign, and telling them in return 
 about my convoy, dilating \ipon the qualities of the wine as 
 if I had been drinking it every day at dinner. 
 
 "We had a very mellow night of it; and before four 
 o'clock the senior major and four captains were under the 
 table, and all the subs, in a state unprovided for by the 
 articles of war. So I thought I 'd be going, and wishing 
 the sober ones a good-by, set out on my road to join my 
 own party. 
 
 "I had not gone above a hundred yards when I heard 
 some one running after, and calling out my name. 
 
 " *I say, Monsoon ; Major, confound you, pull up.' 
 
 " ' Well, Avhat 's the matter ? Has any more lush turned 
 up ? ' inquired I, for we had drank the tap dry when I left. 
 
 " ' Kot a drop, old fellow ! ' said he ; ' but I was thinking 
 of what you 've been saying about that sherry.' 
 
 " ' Well ! What then ? ' 
 
 " ' Why, I want to know how we could get a taste of it ? '
 
 432 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' You 'd better get elected one of the Cortes,' said I, 
 laughing ; ' for it does n't seem likely you '11 do so in any 
 other way.' 
 
 " * I 'm not so sure of that/ said he, smiling. * What road 
 do you travel to-morrow ? ' 
 
 *' 'By Cavalhos and Reina.' 
 
 " * Whereabouts may you happen to be towards sunset ? ' 
 
 " ' I fear we shall be m the mountains,' said I, with a 
 knowing look, 'where ambuscades and surprise parties would 
 be highly dangerous.' 
 
 " ' And your party consists of — ' 
 
 " ' About twenty Portuguese, all ready to run at the first 
 shot.' 
 
 " ' I '11 do it. Monsoon ; I '11 be hanged if I don't.' 
 
 " ' But, Tom,' said I, ' don't make any l^lunder ; only blank 
 cartridge, my boy,' 
 
 " * Honor bright ! ' cried he. * Your fellows are armed of 
 course ? ' 
 
 " * Never think of that ; t\\Qj may shoot each other in the 
 confusion. But if you only make plenty of noise coming on, 
 they '11 never wait for you.' 
 
 '' ' What capital fellows they must be ! ' 
 
 " ' Crack troops, Tom ; so don't hurt them. And now, 
 good-night.' 
 
 "As I cantered off, I began to think over O'Flaherty's 
 idea ; and upon my life, I did n't half like it. He was a 
 recikless, devil-may-care fellow ; and it Avas just as likely he 
 would really put his scheme into practice. 
 
 " When morning broke, however, we got under way again, 
 and I amused myself all the forenoon in detailing stories of 
 French cruelty ; so that before we had marched ten miles, 
 there was not a man among us not ready to run at the 
 slightest sound of attack on any side. As evening was fall- 
 ing we reached Morento, a little mountain pass which fol- 
 lows the course of a small river, and where, in many places, 
 the mule carts had barely space enough to pass between the 
 cliffs and the stream. ' "What a place for Tom OTlaherty 
 and his foragers ! ' thought 1, as we entered the little moun- 
 tain gorge ; but all was silent as the grave, — except the tramp 
 of our party, not a sound was heard. There was something
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 433 
 
 solemn and still in the great brown mountain, rising like 
 vast walls on eitlier side, with a narrow streak of gray sky 
 at top and in the dark, sluggisli stream, that seemed to awe 
 us, and no one spoke. The muleteer ceased his merry song, 
 and did not crack or flourish his long whip as before, but 
 chid his beasts in a half-muttered voice, and urged them 
 faster, to reach the village before nightfall. 
 
 "Egad, somehow I felt uncommonly uncomfortable; I 
 could not divest my mind of the impression that some 
 disaster was impending, and I wished O'Flaherty and his 
 project in a very warm climate. ' He '11 attack us,' thought 
 I, 'where we can't run; fair play forever. But if they are 
 not able to get away, even the militia will fight.' However, 
 the evening crept on, and no sign of his coming appeared on 
 any side ; and to my sincere satisfaction, I could see, about 
 half a league distant, the twinkling light of the little village 
 where we were to halt for the night. It was just at this 
 time that a scout I had sent out some few hundred yards in 
 advance came galloping up, almost breathless. 
 
 " ' The French, Captain ; the French are upon us ! ' said 
 he, with a face like a ghost. 
 
 " ' Whew ! Which way ? How many ? ' said I, not at 
 all sure that he might not be telling the truth. 
 
 "'Coming in force!' said the fellow. 'Dragoons! By 
 this road ! ' 
 
 " ' Dragoons ? By this road ? ' repeated every man of 
 the party, looking at each other like men sentenced to be 
 hanged. 
 
 "Scarcely had they spoken when we heard the distant 
 noise of cavalry advancing at a brisk trot. Lord, what a 
 scene ensued! The soldiers ran hither and thither like 
 frightened sheep ; some pulled out crucifixes and began to 
 say their prayers ; others fired off their muskets in a panic ; 
 the mule-drivers cut their traces, and endeavored to get 
 away by riding ; and the intendant took to his heels, 
 screaming out to us, as he went, to fight manfully to the 
 last, and that he 'd report us favorably to the Junta. 
 
 " Just at this moment the dragoons came in sight ; they 
 came galloping up, shouting like madmen. One look was 
 enough for my fellows ; they sprang to their legs from their 
 VOL. I. — 28
 
 434 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 devotions, fired a volley straight at the new moon, and ran 
 like men. 
 
 " I was knocked down in the rush. As I regained ray 
 legs, Tom O'Flaherty was standing beside me, laughing like 
 mad. 
 
 " ' Eh, Monsoon ! I 've kept my word, old fellow ! What 
 legs they have ! We shall make no prisoners, that's cer- 
 tain. Now, lads, here it is ! Put the horses to, here. We 
 shall take but one. Monsoon ; so that your gallant defence 
 of the rest will please the Junta. Good-night, good-night ! 
 I will drink your health every night these two months.' 
 
 " So saying, Tom sprang to his saddle ; and in less time 
 than I 've been telling it, the whole was over and I sitting 
 by myself in the gray moonlight, meditating on all I saw, 
 and now and then shouting for my Portuguese friends to 
 come back again. They came in time, by twos and threes ; 
 and at last the whole party re-assembled, and we set forth 
 again, every man, from the intendant to the drummer, laud- 
 ing my valor, and saying that Don Monsoon was a match for 
 the Cid." 
 
 " And how did the Junta behave ? " 
 
 " Like trumps, Charley. Made me a Knight of Battalha, 
 and kissed me on both cheeks, having sent twelve dozen of 
 the rescued wine to my quarters, as a small testimony of 
 their esteem. I have laughed very often at it since. But 
 hush, Charley ? What 's that I hear without there ? " 
 
 " Oh, it 's my fellow Mike. He asked my leave to enter- 
 tain his friends before parting, and I perceive he is delight- 
 ing them with a song." 
 
 ''But what a confounded air it is! Are the words 
 Hebrew ? " 
 
 " Irish, Major ; most classical Irish, too, I '11 be bound ! " 
 
 " Irish ! I 've heard most tongues, but that certainly 
 surprises me. Call him in, Charley, and let us have the 
 canticle." 
 
 In a few minutes more, Mr. Free appeared in a state of 
 very satisfactory elevation, his eyebrows alternately rising 
 and falling, his mouth a little drawn to one side, and a side 
 motion in his knee-joints that might puzzle a physiologist 
 to account for.
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 435 
 
 "A sweet little song of yours, Mike," said the major ; *'a 
 very sweet thing indeed. Wet your lips, Mickey." 
 
 " Long life to your honor and Master Charles there, too, 
 and them that belongs to both of yez. May a gooseberry 
 skin make a nightcap for the man would harm either of ye." 
 
 " Thank you, Mike. And now about that song." 
 
 " It 's the ouldest tune ever was sung," said IMike, with 
 a hiccough, " barring Adam had a taste for music ; but the 
 words — the poethry — is not so ould." 
 
 " And how comes that ? " 
 
 '' The poethry, ye see, was put to it by one of my ances- 
 thors, — he was a great inventhor in times past, and made 
 beautiful songs, — and ye 'd never guess what it 's all 
 about." 
 
 " Love, mayhap ? " quoth Monsoon. 
 
 " Sorra taste of kissing from beginning to end." 
 
 " A drinking song ? " said I. 
 
 " Whiskey is never mentioned." 
 
 " Fighting is the only other national pastime. It must be 
 in praise of sudden death ? " 
 
 " You 're out again ; but sure you 'd never guess it," said 
 Mike. " Well, ye see, here 's what it is. It 's the praise 
 and glory of ould Ireland in the great days that 's gone, 
 when we were all Phenayceans and Armenians, and when 
 we worked all manner of beautiful contrivances in goold 
 and silver, — bracelets and collars and teapots, illegant to 
 look at, — and read Roosian and Latin, and played the harp 
 and the barrel-organ, and eat and drank of the best, for 
 nothing but asking." 
 
 " Blessed times, upon my life ! " quoth the major ; " I wish 
 we had them back again." 
 
 " There 's more of your mind," said Mike, steadying him- 
 self. " My ancesthors was great people in them days ; and 
 sure it is n't in my present situation I 'd be av we had tliem 
 back again, — sorra bit, faith ! It is n't, ' Come here, Mickey, 
 bad luck to you, ]\Iike ! ' or, ' That blackguard, Mickey Free ! ' 
 people 'd be calling me. But no matter ; here 's your health 
 again. Major Monsoon — " 
 
 " Xever mind vain regrets, Mike. Let us hear your song ; 
 the major has taken a great fancy to it."
 
 436 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 '' Ah, then, it 's joking you are. Mister Charles," said Mike, 
 affecting an air of most bashful coyness. 
 
 " By no means ; we want to hear you sing it." 
 
 " To be sure we do. Sing it by all means ; never be 
 ashamed. King David was very fond of singing, — upon 
 my life he was." 
 
 " But you 'd never understand a word of it, sir." 
 
 "No matter; we know what it's about. That's the way 
 with the Legion ; they don't know much English, but they 
 generally guess what I 'm at." 
 
 This argument seemed to satisfy all Mike's remaining 
 scruples ; so placing himself in an attitude of considerable 
 pretension as to grace, he began, with a voice of no very 
 measured compass, an air of which neither by name nor 
 otherwise can I give any conception ; my principal amuse- 
 ment being derived from a tol-de-rol chorus of the major, 
 which concluded each verse, and indeed in a lower key ac- 
 companied the singer throughout. 
 
 Since that I have succeeded in obtaining a free-and-easy 
 translation of the lyric ; but in my anxiety to preserve the 
 metre and something of the spirit of the original, I have 
 made several blunders and many anachronisms. Mr. Free, 
 however, pronounces my version a good one, and the world 
 must take his word till some more worthy translator shall 
 have consigned it to immortal verse. 
 
 With this apology, therefore, I present Mr. Free's song : 
 
 Air, — Na Guilloch y' Goulen. 
 
 Oh, once we were illigint people, 
 
 Though we now Hve in cabins of miul ; 
 And the land that ye see from the steeple 
 
 Belonged to us all from the Flood. 
 My fother was then King of Connaught, 
 
 My grand-aunt Viceroy of Tralee ; 
 But the Sassenach came, and signs on it, 
 
 The devil an acre have we. 
 
 The least of us then were all earls, 
 
 And jewels we wore without name ; 
 We drank punch out of ruhies and pearls, — 
 
 Mr. Petrie can tell vou the same.
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 437 
 
 But except some turf mould and potatoes, 
 There 's nothing our own we can call ; 
 
 And the English, — bad luck to them ! — hate us, 
 Because we 've more fun than them all! 
 
 My grand-aunt was niece to Saint Kevin, 
 
 That 's the reason my name 's Mickey Free ! 
 Priest's nieces, — but sure he 's in heaven, 
 
 And his failins is nothin' to me. 
 And we still might get on without doctors, 
 
 If they 'd let the ould Island alone ; 
 And if purple-men, priests, and tithe-i)roctors 
 
 Were crammed down the creat tjun of Athlone. 
 
 As Mike's melody proceeded, the major's thorough bass 
 waxed beautifully less, — now and then, it 's true, roused 
 by some momentary strain, it swelled upwards in full chorus, 
 but gradually these passing flights grew rarer, and finally 
 all ceased, save a long, low, droning sound, like the expiring
 
 438 CIIAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 sigh of a wearied bagpipe. His fingers still continued me- 
 chanically to beat time upon the table, and still his head 
 nodded sympathetically to the music ; his eyelids closed in 
 sleep ; and as the last verse concluded, a full-drawn snore 
 announced that Monsoon, if not in the land of dreams, was 
 at least in a happy oblivion of all terrestrial concerns, and 
 caring as little for the woes of green Erin and the altered 
 fortunes of the Free family as any Saxon that ever opjjressed 
 them. 
 
 There he sat, the finished decanter and empty goblet tes- 
 tifying that his labors had only ceased from the pressure 
 of necessity ; but the broken, half-uttered words that fell 
 from his lips evinced that he reposed on the last bottle of 
 the series. 
 
 " Oh, thin, he 's a fine ould gentleman ! " said Mike, after 
 a pause of some minutes, during which he had been contem- 
 plating the major with all the critical acumen Chantrey or 
 Canova would have bestowed upon an antique statue, — "a 
 fine ould gentleman, every inch of him ; and it 's the master 
 would like to have him up at the Castle." 
 
 '* Quite true, Mike ; but let us not forget the road. Look 
 to the cattle, and be ready to start within an hour." 
 
 When he left the room for this purpose I endeavoi'ed 
 to shake the major into momentary consciousness ere we 
 parted. 
 
 "Major, Major," said I, "time is up. I must start." 
 
 " Yes, it 's all true, your Excellency : they pillaged a 
 little ; and if they did change their facings, there was a 
 great temptation. All the red velvet they found in the 
 churches — " 
 
 " Good-by, old fellow, good-by ! " 
 
 " Stand at ease ! " 
 
 " Can't, unfortunately, yet awhile ; so farewell. I '11 make 
 a capital report of the Legion to Sir Arthur ; shall I add 
 anything particularly from yourself ? " 
 
 This, and the shake that accompanied it, aroused him. 
 He started up, and looked about him for a few seconds. 
 
 " Eh, Charley ! You did n't say Sir Arthur was here, did 
 you ? " 
 
 "No, Major; don't be frightened; he's many a league
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 439 
 
 off. I asked if you had anything to say when I met 
 him ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, Charley ! Tell him we 're capital troops in our 
 own little way in the mountains ; would never do in pitched 
 battles, — skirmishing 's our forte ; and for cutting off strag- 
 glers, or sacking a town, back them at any odds." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know all that ; you 've nothing more ? " 
 
 " jSTothing," said he, once more closing his eyes and cross- 
 ing his hands before him, while his lips continued to mutter 
 on, — " nothing more, except you may say from me, — he 
 knows me, Sir Arthur does. Tell him to guard himself 
 from intemperance ; a fine fellow if he would n't drink." 
 
 " You horrid old humbug, what nonsense are you mutter- 
 ing there ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; Solomon says, ' Who hath red eyes and car- 
 buncles ? ' they that mix their lush. Pure Sneyd never 
 injured any one. Tell him so from me, — it 's an old man's 
 advice, and I have drunk some hogsheads of it." 
 
 With these words he ceased to speak, while his head, 
 falling gently forward upon his chest, proclaimed him sound 
 asleep. 
 
 "Adieu, then, for the last time," said I, slapping him 
 gently on the shoulder. " And now for the road."
 
 CHAPTEE LVII. 
 
 CUESTA. 
 
 The second day of our journey was drawing to a close as 
 we came in view of tlie Spanish army. 
 
 Tlie position they occupied was an undulating plain beside 
 the Teitar River ; the country presented no striking feature 
 of picturesque beauty, but the scene before us needed no such 
 aid to make it one of the most interesting kind. From tlie 
 little mountain path we travelled we beheld beneath a force 
 of thirty thousand men drawn up in battle array, dense col- 
 umns of infantry alternating with squadrons of horse or 
 dark masses of artillery dotted the wide plain, the bright 
 steel glittering in the rich sunset of a July evening when not 
 a breath of air was stirring ; the very banners hung down 
 listlessly, and not a sound broke the solemn stillness of the 
 hour. All was silent. So impressive and so strange was 
 the spectacle of a vast army thus resting mutely under arms, 
 that I reined in my horse, and almost doubted the reality 
 of the scene as I gazed upon it. The dark shadows of the 
 tall mountain were falliug across the valley, and a starry 
 sky was already replacing the ruddy glow of sunset as we 
 reached the plain ; but still no change took place in the 
 position of the Spanish army. 
 
 *' Who goes there ? " cried a hoarse voice, as we issued 
 from the mountain gorge, and in a moment we found our- 
 selves surrounded by an outpost party. Having explained, 
 as well as I was able, who I was, and for what reason I was 
 there, I proceeded to accompany the officer towards the 
 camp. 
 
 On my way thither I learned the reason of the singular 
 display of troops which had been so puzzling to me. From 
 an early hour of that day Sir Arthur Wellesley's arrival 
 had been expected, and old Cuesta had drawn up his men 
 for inspection, and remained thus for several hours patiently
 
 CUESTA. 441 
 
 awaiting his coming ; he himself, overwhelmed with years 
 and infirmity, sitting upon his horse the entire time. 
 
 As it was not necessary that I should be presented to the 
 general, my report being for the ear of Sir Arthur himself, 
 I willingly availed myself of the hospitality proffered by a 
 Spanish officer of cavalry ; and having provided for the com- 
 forts of my tired cattle and taken a hasty supper, issued 
 forth to look at the troops, which, although it was now grow- 
 ing late, were still in the same attitude. 
 
 Scarcely had I been half an hour thus occupied, when the 
 stillness of the scene was suddenly interrupted by the loud 
 report of a large gun, immediately followed by a long roll 
 of musketry, while at the same moment the bands of the 
 different regiments striick up, and as if by magic a blaze of 
 red light streamed across the dark ranks. This was effected 
 by pine torches held aloft at intervals, throwing a lurid 
 glare upon the grim and swarthy features of the Spaniards, 
 whose brown uniforms and slouching hats presented a most 
 picturesque effect as the red light fell upon them. 
 
 The swell of the thundering cannon grew louder and 
 nearer, — the shouldering of muskets, the clash of sabres, and 
 the hoarse roll of the drum, mingling in one common din. 
 I at once guessed that Sir Arthur had arrived, and as I 
 turned the flank of a battalion I saw the staff approaching. 
 
 Nothing can be conceived more striking than their advance. 
 In the front rode old Cuesta himself, clad in the costume of 
 a past century, his slashed doublet and trunk hose remind- 
 ing one of a more chivalrous period, his heavy, unwieldy 
 figure looming from side to side, and threatening at each 
 moment to fall from his saddle. On each side of him walked 
 two figures gorgeously dressed, whose duty appeared to be 
 to sustain the chief in his seat. At his side rode a far dif- 
 ferent figure. Mounted upon a slight-made, active thorough- 
 bred, whose drawn flanks bespoke a long and weary journey, 
 sat Sir Arthur Wellesley, a plain blue frock and gray trous- 
 ers being his unpretending costume ; but the eagle glance 
 which he threw around on every side, the quick motion of 
 his hand as he pointed hither and thither among the dense 
 battalions, bespoke him every inch a soldier. Behind them 
 came a brilliant staff, glittering in aiguillettes and golden
 
 442 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 trappings, among whom I recognized some well-remembered 
 faces, — our gallant leader at the Douro, Sir Charles Stewart, 
 among the number. 
 
 As they passed the spot where I was standing, the torch 
 of a foot soldier behind me flared suddenly up and threw a 
 strong flash upon the party, Cuesta's horse grew fright- 
 ened, and plunged so fearfully for a minute that the poor 
 old man could scarcely keep his seat. A. smile shot across 
 Sir Arthur's features at the moment, but the next instant 
 he was grave and steadfast as before. 
 
 A wretched hovel, thatched and in ruins, formed the 
 headquarters of the Spanish army, and thi^er the staff 
 now beut their steps, — a supper being provided there for 
 our commander-in-chief and the officers of his suite. Al- 
 though not of the privileged party, I lingered round the 
 spot for some time, anxiously expecting to find some friend 
 or acquaintance who might tell nie the news of our people, 
 and what events had occurred in my absence.
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 THE LETTER. 
 
 The hours passed slowly over, and I at length grew 
 weary of waiting. For some time I had amused myself 
 with observing the slouching gait and unsoldier-like air of 
 the Spaniards as they lounged carelessly about, looking in 
 dress, gesture, and appointment, far more like a guerilla 
 than a regular force. Then again, the strange contrast of 
 the miserable hut with falling chimney and ruined walls, 
 to the glitter of the mounted guard of honor who sat 
 motionless beside it, served to pass the time; but as the 
 night was already far advanced, I turned towards my 
 quarters, hoping that the next morning might gratify my 
 curiosity about my friends. 
 
 Beside the tent where I was billeted, I found Mike in 
 waiting, who, the moment he saw me, came hastily forward 
 with a letter in his hand. An officer of Sir Arthur's staff 
 had left it while I was absent, desiring Mike on no account 
 to omit its delivery the first instant he met me. The hand 
 — not a very legil3le one — was perfectly unknown to me, 
 and the appearance of the billet such as betrayed no over- 
 scrupulous care in the writer. 
 
 I trimmed my lamp leisurely, threw a fresh log upon the 
 fire, disposed myself completely at full length beside it, 
 and then proceeded to form acquaintance with my unknown 
 correspondent. I will not attempt any description of the 
 feelings which gradually filled me as I read on ; the letter 
 itself will suggest them to those who know my story. It 
 ran thus : — 
 
 Placentia, July 8, 1809. 
 
 Dear O'Malley, — Althougli I 'd rather march to Lisbon barefoot 
 than write three lines, Fred Power insists upon my turning scribe, 
 as he has a notion you'll be up at Cuesta's headquarters about this 
 time. You 're in a nice scrape, devil a lie in it ! Here has Fred
 
 444 CHAELES O'MALLEY. 
 
 been fighting that fellow Trevyllian for you, — all because you would 
 not have patience and fight him yourself the morning you left the 
 Douro, — so mu»:h for haste ! Let it be a lesson to you for life. 
 
 Poor Fred got the ball in his hip, and the devil a one of the doctors 
 can find it. But he 's getting better any way, and going to Lisbon 
 for change of air. Meanwhile, since Power 's been wounded, Trevyl- 
 lian 's speaking very hardly of you, and they all say here you must 
 come back — no matter how — and put matters to rights. Fred has 
 placed the thing in my hands, and I 'm thinking we 'd better call out 
 the " heavies " by turns, — for most of them stand by Trevyllian. 
 Maurice Quill and myself sat up considering it last night ; but, 
 somehow, we don't clearly remember to-day a beautiful plan we hit 
 upon. However, we '11 have at it again this evening. Meanwhile, 
 come over here, and let us be doing something. We hear that old 
 Monsoon has blown up a town, a bridge, and a big convent. They 
 must have been hiding the plunder very closely, or he 'd never have 
 been reduced to such extremities. We'll have a brush with the 
 French soon. Yours most eagerly, 
 
 D. O'Shaughnessy. 
 
 My first thought, as I ran my eye over these lines, was 
 to seek for Povv^er's note, written on the morning we parted. 
 I opened it, and to my horror found that it only related to 
 my quarrel with Hammersley. My meeting with Trevyllian 
 had been during Fred's absence, and when he assured me 
 that all was satisfactorily arranged, and a full explanation 
 tendered, that nothing interfered with my departure, — I 
 utterly forgot that he was only aware of one half my 
 troubles, and in the haste and bustle of my departure, 
 had not a moment left me to collect myself and think 
 calmly on the matter. The two letters lay before me, and 
 as I thought over the stain upon my character thus unwit- 
 tingly incurred ; the blast I had thrown upon my reputa- 
 tion; the wound of my poor friend, who exposed himself 
 for my sake, — I grew sick at heart, and the bitter tears 
 of agony burst from my eyes. 
 
 That weary night passed slowly over ; the blight of all 
 my prospects, when they seemed fairest and brightest, 
 presented itself to me in a hundred shapes ; and when, 
 overcome by fatigue and exhaustion, I closed my eyes to 
 sleep, it was only to follow up in my dreams my waking 
 thoughts. Morning came at length ; but its bright sun-
 
 THE LEFl'ER. 445 
 
 shine and balmy air brought no comfort to me. I absolutely 
 dreaded to meet my brother officers ; I felt that in such a 
 position as I stood, no half or partial explanation could 
 suffice to set me right in their estimation ; and yet, what 
 opportunity had I for aught else ? Irresolute how to act, 
 I sat leaning my head upon my hands, when I heard a foot- 
 step approach ; I looked up and saw before me no other 
 than my poor friend Sparks, from whom I had been sepa- 
 rated so long. Any other adviser at such a moment would, 
 I acknowledge, have been as welcome ; for the poor fellow 
 knew but little of the world, and still less of the service. 
 However, one glance convinced me that his heart at least 
 was true ; and I shook his outstretched hand with delight. 
 In a few words he informed me that Merivale had secretly 
 commissioned him to come over in the hope of meeting 
 me ; that although all the 14th men were persuaded that 
 I was not to blame in what had occurred, — yet that reports 
 so injurious had gone abroad, so many partial and imperfect 
 statements were circulated, that nothing but my return to 
 headquarters would avail, and that I must not lose a 
 moment in having Trevyllian out, with whom all the mis- 
 representation had originated. 
 
 "This, of course," said Sparks, "is to be a secret; 
 Merivale, being our colonel — " 
 
 " Of course," said I, " he cannot countenance, much less 
 counsel, such a proceeding. Now, then, for the road." 
 
 " Yes ; but you cannot leave before making your report. 
 Gordon expects to see you at eleven ; he told me so last 
 night." 
 
 "I cannot help it; I shall not wait ; my mind is made 
 up. My career here matters but little in comparison with 
 this horrid charge. I shall be broke, but I shall be 
 avenged." 
 
 " Come, come, O'Malley ; you are in our hands now, and 
 you must be guided. You shall wait ; you shall see Gor- 
 don. Half an hour will make your report, and I have relays 
 of horses along the road, and we shall reach Placentia by 
 nightfall." 
 
 There was a tone of firmness in this, so unlike anything 
 I ever looked for in the speaker, and withal so much of
 
 446 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 foresight and precaution, that I could scarcely credit my 
 senses as he spoke. Having at length agreed to his pro- 
 posal, Si)arks left me to think over my return of the 
 Legion, promising that immediately after my interview 
 with the military secretary, we should start together for 
 headquarters.
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 MAJOR O'SHAUGHNESSY. 
 
 "This is Major O'Sliaughnessy's quarters, sir," said a 
 sergeant, as he stopped short at the door of a small, low 
 house in the midst of an olive plantation ; an Irish wolf-dog 
 — the well-known companion of the major — lay stretched 
 across the entrance, watching with eager and bloodshot 
 eyes the process of cutting up a bullock, which two soldiers 
 in undress jackets were performing within a few yards of 
 the spot. 
 
 Stepping cautiously across the savage-looking sentinel, 
 I entered the little hall, and finding no one near, passed 
 into a small room, the door of which lay half open. 
 
 A very palpable odor of cigars and brandy proclaimed, 
 even without his presence, that this was O'Shaughnessy's 
 sitting-room ; so I sat myself down upon an old-fashioned 
 sofa to wait patiently for his return, which I heard would 
 be immediately after the evening parade. Sparks had 
 become knocked up during our ride, so that for the last 
 three leagues I was alone, and like most men in such 
 circumstances, pressed on only the harder Completely 
 worn out for want of rest, I had scarcely placed myself on 
 the sofa when I fell sound asleep. When I awoke, all was 
 dark around me, save the faint flickerings of the wood 
 embers on the hearth, and for some moments I could not 
 remember where I was ; but by degrees recollection came, 
 and as I thought over my position and its possible con- 
 sequences, I was again nearly dropping to sleep, when the 
 door suddenly opened, and a heavy step sounded on the 
 floor. 
 
 I lay still and spoke not, as a large figure in a cloak ap- 
 proached the fire-place, and stooping down endeavored to 
 light a candle at the fast expiring fire. 
 
 I had little difficulty in detecting the major even by the 
 half-light ; a muttered execration upon the candle, given
 
 448 CHARLES 0'M.\XLEY. 
 
 with an energy that only an Irishman ever bestows upon 
 slight matters, soon satisfied me on this head. 
 
 " May the Devil fly away with the commissary and the 
 chandler to the forces ! Ah, you 've lit at last ! " 
 
 With these words he stood up, and his eyes falling on 
 me at the moment, he sprang a yard or two backwards, 
 exclaiming as he did so, '•' The blessed Virgin be near us, 
 what 's this ? " a most energetic crossing of himself accom- 
 panying his words. My pale and haggard face, thus sud- 
 denly presented, having suggested to the worthy major 
 the impression of a supernatural visitor, a hearty burst of 
 laughter, which I could not resist, was my only answer ; 
 and the next moment O'Shaughnessy was wrenching my 
 hand in a grasp like a steel vice. 
 
 " Upon my conscience, I thouglit it was your ghost ; and 
 if you kept quiet a little longer, I was going to promise you 
 Christian burial, and as many Masses for your soul as my 
 uncle the bishop could say between this and Easter. How 
 are you, my boy ? A little thin, and something paler, I 
 think, than when you left us." 
 
 Having assured him that fatigue and hunger were in a 
 great measure the cause of my sickly looks, the major 
 proceeded to place before me the debris of his day's dinner, 
 with a sufficiency of bottles to satisfy a mess-table, keeping 
 up as he went a running fire of conversation. 
 
 *' I 'm as glad as if the Lord took the senior major, to see 
 you here this night. With the blessing of Providence we '11 
 shoot Trevyllian in the morning, and any more of the 
 heavies that like it. You are an ill-treated man, that 's 
 what it is, and Dan O'Shaughnessy says it. Help your- 
 self, my boy ; crusty old port in that bottle as ever you 
 touched your lips to. Power's getting all right; it was 
 contract powder, warranted not to kill. Bad luck to the 
 commissaries once more ! With such ammunition Sir Arthur 
 does right to trust most to the bayonet. And how is 
 Monsoon, the old rogue ? " 
 
 " Gloriously, living in the midst of wine and olives." 
 
 "No fear of him, the old sinner; but he is a fine fellow, 
 after all. Charley, you are eating nothing, boy." 
 
 " To tell you the truth, I 'm far more anxious to talk 
 with you at this moment than aught else."
 
 MAJOR O'SHAUGHNESSY. 449 
 
 " So you shall : the night 's young. Meanwhile, I had 
 better not delay matters. You want to have Trevyllian 
 out, — is not that so ? " 
 
 " Of course ; you are aware how it happened ? " 
 
 " I know everything. Go on with your supper, and don't 
 mind me ; I '11 be back in twenty minutes or less." 
 
 Without waiting for any reply, he threw his cloak around 
 him, and strode out of the room. Once more I was alone ; 
 but already my frame of mind was altered, — the cheering 
 tone of my reckless, gallant countryman had raised my 
 spirits, and I felt animated by his very manner. 
 
 An hour elapsed before the major returned ; and when 
 he did come, his appearance and gestures bespoke anger 
 and disappointment. He threw himself hurriedly into a 
 seat, and for some minutes never spoke. 
 
 " The world 's beautifully changed, anyhow, since I 
 began it, O'Malley, — when you thanked a man civilly 
 that asked you to fight him ! The Devil take the cowards, 
 say I." 
 
 " What has happened ? Tell me, I beseech you ? " 
 
 " He won't fight," said the major, blurting out the words 
 as if they would choke him. 
 
 « He '11 not fight ! And why ? " 
 
 The major was silent. He seemed confused and embar- 
 rassed. He turned from the fire to the table, from the table 
 to the fire, poured out a glass of wine, drank it hastily off, 
 and springing from his chair, paced the room with long, im- 
 patient strides. 
 
 " My dear O'Shaughnessy, explain, I beg of you. Does 
 he refuse to meet me for any reason — " 
 
 " He does," said the major, turning on me a look of deep 
 feeling as he spoke ; " and he does it to ruin you, my boy. 
 But as sure as my name is Dan, he '11 fail this time. He 
 was sitting with his friend Beaufort when I reached his 
 quarters, and received me with all the ceremonious polite- 
 ness he well knows how to assume. I told him in a few 
 words the object of my visit ; upon which Trevyllian, stand- 
 ing up, referred me to his friend for a reply, and left the 
 room. I thought that all was right, and sat down to dis- 
 cuss, as I believed, preliminaries, when the cool puppy, 
 VOL. I. — 29
 
 450 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 with his back to the fire, carelessly lisped out, ' It can 't be, 
 Major ; your friend is too late.' 
 
 " * Too late ? too late ? ' said I. 
 
 " ' Yes, precisely so ; not up to time. The affair should 
 have come off some weeks since. We won't meet him now.' 
 
 " ' This is really your answer ? ' 
 
 " ' This is really my answer ; and not only so, but the 
 decision of our mess.' 
 
 " What I said after this he may remember ; devil take me 
 if I can. But I have a vague recolleelion of saying some- 
 thing that the aforesaid mess will never petition the Horse 
 Guards to put on their regimental colors ; and here I am — " 
 
 With these words the major gulped down a full goblet of 
 wine, and once more resumed his walk through the room. 
 I shall not attempt to record the feelings which agitated me 
 during the major's recital. In one rapid glance I saw the 
 aim of my vindictive enemy. My honor, not my life, was 
 the object he sought for ; and ten thousand times more 
 than ever did I pant for the opportunity to confront him 
 in a deadly combat. 
 
 " Charley," said O'Shaughnessy, at length, placing his 
 hand upon my shoulder, " you must get to bed now. Noth- 
 ing more can be done to-night in any way. Be assured of 
 one thing, my boy, — I '11 not desert you ; and if that assur- 
 ance can give you a sound sleep, you '11 not need a lullaby."
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 PRELIMINARIES. 
 
 I AWOKE refreshed on the following morning, and came 
 down to breakfast with a lighter heart than I had even 
 hoped for. A secret feeling that all would go well had some- 
 how taken possession of me, and I longed for O'Shaugh- 
 nessy's coming, trusting that he might be able to confirm 
 my hopes. His servant informed me that the major had 
 been absent since daybreak, and left orders that he was not 
 to be waited for at breakfast. 
 
 I was not destined, however, to pass a solitary time in 
 his absence, for every moment brought some new arrival 
 to visit me ; and during the morning the colonel and every 
 officer of the regiment not on actual duty came over. I 
 soon learned that the feeling respecting Trevyllian's con- 
 duct was one of unmixed condemnation among my own 
 corps, but that a kind of party spirit which had subsisted 
 for some months between the regiment he belonged to and 
 the 14th had given a graver character to the affair, and in- 
 duced many men to take up his views of the transaction ; 
 and although I heard of none who attributed my absence to 
 any dislike to a meeting, yet there were several who con- 
 ceived that, by my going at the time, I had forfeited all 
 claim to satisfaction at his hands. 
 
 " Now that Merivale is gone," said an officer to me as 
 the colonel left the room, "I may confess to you that he 
 sees nothing to blame in your conduct throughout ; and 
 even had you been aware of how matters were circum- 
 stanced, your duty was too imperative to have preferred 
 your personal consideration to it." 
 
 " Does any one know where Conyers is ? " said Baker. 
 
 " The story goes that Conyers can assist us here. Con- 
 yers is at Zaza la Mayor, with the 28th ; but what can 
 he do?"
 
 452 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " That I 'm not able to tell you ; but I know O'Shaugh- 
 nessy heard something at parade this morning, and has set 
 off in search of him on every side." 
 
 " Was Couyers ever out with Trevyllian ? " 
 
 " Not as a principal, I believe. The report is, however, 
 that he knows more about him than other people, as Tom 
 certainly does of everybody." 
 
 " It is rather a new thing for Trevyllian to refuse a meet- 
 ing. They say, O'Malley, he has heard of your shooting." 
 
 '' ]S'o, no," said another ; " he cares very little for any 
 man's pistol. If the story be true, he fires a second or two 
 before his adversary ; at least, it was in that way he killed 
 Carysfort." 
 
 " Here comes the great O'Shaughnessy ! " cried some one 
 at the window ; and the next moment the heavy gallop of a 
 horse was heard along the causeway. In an instant we all 
 rushed to the door to receive him. 
 
 *' It 's all right, lads ! " cried he, as he came up. " We 
 have him this time ! " 
 
 " How ? " " When ? " " Why ? " " In what way have you 
 managed ? " fell from a dozen voices, as the major elbowed 
 his way through the crowd to the sitting-room. 
 
 " In the first place," said O'Shaughnessy, drawing a long 
 breath, "I have promised secrecy as to the steps of this 
 transaction ; secondly, if I had n't, it would puzzle me to 
 break it, for I '11 be hanged if I know more than yourselves. 
 Tom Conyers wrote me a few lines for Trevyllian, and 
 Trevyllian pledges himself to meet our friend ; and that 's 
 all we need know or care for." 
 
 " Then you have seen Trevyllian this morning ? " 
 
 " No ; Beaufort met me at the village. But even now 
 it seems this affair is never to come off. Trevyllian has 
 been sent with a forage party towards Lesco. However, 
 that can't be a long absence. But, for Heaven's sake, let 
 me have some breakfast ! " 
 
 While O'Shaughnessy proceeded to attack the viands be- 
 fore him, the others chatted about in little groups ; but all 
 wore the pleased and happy looks of men who had rescued 
 their friend from a menaced danger. As for myself, my 
 heart swelled with gratitude to the kind fellows around me.
 
 PRELIMINARIES. 453 
 
 " How has Conyers assisted us at this juncture ? " was 
 my first question to O'Shaughnessy, when we were once 
 more alone. 
 
 " I am not at liberty to si^eak on that subject, Charley. 
 But be satisfied the reasons for which Trevyllian meets 
 you are fair and honorable." 
 
 " I am content." 
 
 " The only thing now to be done is to have the meeting 
 as soon as possible." 
 
 " We are all agreed upon that point," said I ; " and the 
 more so as the matter had better be decided before Sir 
 Arthur's return." 
 
 " Quite true. And now, O'Malley, you had better join 
 your people as soon as may be, and it will put a stop to 
 all talking about the matter." 
 
 The advice was good, and I lost no time in complying 
 with it ; and when I joined the regiment that day at mess, 
 it was with a light heart and a cheerful spirit, for come 
 what might of the affair, of one thing I was certain, - — my 
 character was now put above any reach of aspersion, and 
 my reputation beyond attack.
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 ALL RIGHT. 
 
 Some days after coming back to headquarters, I was re- 
 turning from a visit I had been making to a friend at 
 one of the outposts, when an officer whom I knew slightly 
 overtook me and informed me that Major O'ShaUghnessy 
 had been to my quarters in search of me, and had sent per- 
 sons in different directions to find me. 
 
 Suspecting the object of the major's haste, I hurried on 
 at once, and as I rode up to the spot, found him in the 
 midst of a group oT officers, engaged, to all appearance, in 
 most eager conversation. 
 
 " Oh, here he comes ! " cried he, as I cantered up. " Come, 
 my boy, doff the blue frock as soon as you can, and turn 
 out in your best-fitting black. Everything has been set- 
 tled for this evening at seven o'clock, and we have no time 
 to lose." 
 
 " I understand you," said I, " and shall not keep you 
 waiting." So saying, I sprang from my saddle and has- 
 tened to my quarters. As I entered the room I was fol- 
 lowed by O'Shaughnessy, who closed the door after him 
 as he came in, and having turned the key in it, sat down 
 beside the table, and folding his arms, seemed buried in 
 reflection. As I proceeded with my toilet he returned no 
 answers to the numerous questions I put to him, either as 
 to the time of Trevyllian's return, the place of the meet- 
 ing, or any other part of the transaction. His attention 
 seemed to wander far from all around and about him ; and 
 as he muttered indistinctly to himself, the few words I 
 could catch bore not in the remotest degree upon the mat- 
 ter before us. 
 
 " I have written a letter or two here. Major," said I, open- 
 ing my writing-desk. " In case anything happens, you will 
 look to a few things I have mentioned here. Somehow, I
 
 ALL RIGHT. 455 
 
 could not write to poor Fred Power ; but you must tell him 
 from me that his noble conduct towards me was the last 
 thing I spoke of." 
 
 " What confounded nonsense you are talking ! " said 
 O'Shaughnessy, springing from his seat and crossing the 
 room with tremendous strides, "croaking away there as 
 if the bullet was in your thorax. Hang it, man, bear 
 up!" 
 
 "But, Major, my dear friend, what the deuce are you 
 thinking of ? The few things I mentioned — " 
 
 " The devil ! you are not going over it all again, are 
 you ? " said he, in a voice of no measured tone. 
 
 I now began to feel irritated in turn, and really looked 
 at him for some seconds in considerable amazement. That 
 he should have mistaken the directions I was giving him 
 and attributed them to any cowardice was too insulting a 
 thought to bear ; and yet how otherwise was I to under- • 
 stand the very coarse style of his interruption ? 
 
 At length my temper got the victory, and with a voice 
 of most measured calmness, I said, " Major O'Shaughnessy, 
 I am grateful, most deeply grateful, for the part you have 
 acted towards me in this difficult business ; at the same 
 time, as you now appear to disapprove of my conduct and 
 bearing, when I am most firmly determined to alter noth- 
 ing, I shall beg to relieve you of the unpleasant office of 
 my friend." 
 
 " Heaven grant that you could do so ! " said he, inter- 
 rupting me, while his clasped hands and eager look attested 
 the vehemence of the wish. He paused for a moment, 
 then, springing from his chair, rushed towards me, and 
 threw his arms around me. " No, my boy, I can't do it, — 
 I can't do it. I have tried to bully myself into insensi- 
 bility for this evening's work, — I have endeavored to be 
 rude to you, that you might insult me, and steel my heart 
 against what might happen; but it won't do, Charley, it 
 won't do." 
 
 With these words the big tears rolled down his stern 
 cheeks, and his voice became thick with emotion. 
 
 " But for me, all this need not have happened. I know 
 it; I feel it. I hurried on this meeting; your character
 
 456 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 stood fair and unblemished without that, — at least they tell 
 me so now ; and I still have to assure you — " 
 
 "Come, my dear, kind friend, don't give way in this 
 fashion. You have stood manfully by me through every 
 step of the road; don't desert me on the threshold of — " 
 
 " The grave, O'Malley ? " 
 
 *' I don't think so. Major ; but see, half-past six ! Look 
 to these pistols for me. Are they likely to object to 
 hair-triggers ? " 
 
 A knocking at the door turned off our attention, and the 
 next moment Baker's voice was heard. 
 
 " O'Malley, you '11 be close run for time ; the meeting- 
 place is full three miles from this." 
 
 I seized the key and opened the door. At the same 
 instant, O'Shaughnessy rose and turned towards the win- 
 dow, holding one of the pistols in his hand. 
 
 " Look at that. Baker, — what a sweet tool it is ! " said 
 he, in a voice that actually made me start. Not a trace 
 of his late excitement remained ; his usually dry, half- 
 humorous manner had returned, and his droll features were 
 as full of their own easy, devil-may-care fun as ever. 
 
 "Here comes the drag," said Baker. "We can drive 
 nearly all the way, unless you prefer riding." 
 
 " Of course not. Keep your hand steady, Charley, and if 
 you don't bring him down with that saw-handle, you 're not 
 your uncle's nephew." 
 
 With these words we mounted into the tax-cart, and set 
 off for the meeting-place.
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 A SMALL and narrow ravine between the two furze- 
 covered dells led to the open space where the meeting had 
 been arranged for. As we reached this, therefore, we were 
 obliged to descend from the drag, and proceed the remain- 
 der of the way afoot. We had not gone many yards when a 
 step was heard approaching, and the next moment Beaufort 
 appeared. His usually easy and degage air was certainly 
 tinged with somewhat of constraint ; and though his soft 
 voice and half smile were as perfect as ever, a slightly 
 flurried expression about the lip, and a quick and nervous 
 motion of his eyebrow, bespoke a heart not completely at 
 ease. He lifted his foraging cap most ceremoniously to 
 salute us as we came up, and casting an anxious look to 
 see if any others were following, stood quite still. 
 
 " I think it right to mention. Major O'Shaughnessy," 
 said he, in a voice of most dulcet sweetness, " that I am the 
 only friend of Captain Trevyllian on the ground; and 
 though I have not the slightest objection to Captain Baker 
 being present, I hope you will see the propriety of limiting 
 the witnesses to the three persons now here." 
 
 " Upon my conscience, as far as I am concerned, or my 
 friend either, we are perfectly indifferent if we fight before 
 three or three thousand. In Ireland we rather like a 
 crowd." 
 
 " Of course, then, as you see no objection to my proposi- 
 tion, I may count upon your co-operation in the event of 
 any intrusion, — I mean, that while we, upon our sides, will 
 not permit any of our friends to come forward, you will 
 equally exert yourself with yours." 
 
 " Here we are. Baker and myself, neither more nor 
 less. We expect no one, and want no one ; so that I humbly 
 conceive all the preliminaries you are talking of will never 
 be required."
 
 458 CHAKLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Beaufort tried to smile, and bit his lips, while a small 
 red spot upon his cheek spoke that some deeper feeling of 
 irritation than the mere careless manner of the major could 
 account for, still rankled in his bosom. We now walked on 
 without speaking, except when occasionally some passing 
 observation of Beaufort upon the fineness of the evening, 
 or the rugged nature of the road, broke the silence. As 
 we emerged from the little mountain pass into the open 
 meadow land, the tall and soldier-like figure of Trevyllian 
 was the first object that presented itself. He was standing 
 beside a little stone cross that stood above a holy well, and 
 seemed occupied in deciphering the inscription. He turned 
 at the noise of our approach, and calmly waited our coming. 
 His eye glanced quickly from the features of O'Shaugh- 
 nessy to those of Baker ; but seeming rapidly reassured as 
 he walked forward, his face at once recovered its usual 
 severity and its cold, impassive look of sternness. 
 
 " All right ! " said Beaufort, in a whisper the tones of 
 which I overheard, as he drew near to his friend. Trevyl- 
 lian smiled in return, but did not speak. During the few 
 moments which passed in conversation between the seconds, 
 I turned from the spot with Baker, and had scarcely time 
 to address a question to him, when O'Shaughnessy called 
 out, '' Hollo, Baker ! — come here a moment ! " The three 
 seemed now in eager discussion for some minutes, when 
 Baker walked towards Trevyllian, and saying something, 
 appeared to wait for his reply. This being obtained, he 
 joined the others, and the moment afterwards came to 
 where I was standing. "You are to toss for first shot, 
 O'Malley. O'Shaughnessy has made that proposition, and 
 the others agree that with two crack marksmen, it is per- 
 haps the fairest way. I suppose you have no objection ? " 
 
 " Of course, I shall make none. Whatever O'Shaugh- 
 nessy decides for me I am ready to abide by." 
 
 "Well, then, as to the distance?" said Beaufort, loud 
 enough to be heard by me where I was standing. O'Shaugh- 
 nessy's reply I could not catch, but it was evident, from the 
 tone of both parties, that some difference existed on the 
 point. 
 
 " Captain Baker shall decide between us," said Beaufort,
 
 THE DUEL. 459 
 
 at length, and they all walked away to some distance. 
 During all the while I could perceive that Trevyllian's 
 uneasiness and impatience seemed extreme ; he looked 
 from the speakers to the little mountain pass, and strained 
 his eyes in every direction. It was clear that he dreaded 
 some interruption. At last, unable any longer to control 
 his feelings, he called out, " Beaufort, I say, what the devil 
 are we waiting for now ? " 
 
 " Nothing at present," said Beaufort, as he came forward 
 with a dollar in his hand. "Come, Major O'Shaughnessy, 
 you shall call for your friend." 
 
 He pitched the piece of money as he spoke high into the 
 air, and watched it as it fell on the soft grass beneath. 
 
 " Head ! for a thousand," cried O'Shaughnessy, running 
 over and stooping down ; "and head it is ! " 
 
 " You 've won the first shot," whispered Baker ; " for 
 Heaven's sake be cool ! " 
 
 Beaufort grew deadly pale as he bent over the crown- 
 piece, and seemed scarcely to have courage to look his 
 friend in his face. Not so Trevyllian ; he pulled off his 
 gloves without the slightest semblance of emotion, buttoned 
 up his well-fitting black frock to the throat, and throwing 
 a rapid glance around, seemed only eager to begin the 
 combat. « 
 
 " Fifteen paces, and the words, ' One, two ! ' " 
 
 " Exactly. My cane shall mark the spot." 
 
 "Devilish long paces you make them," said O'Shaugh- 
 nessy, who did not seem to approve of the distance. " They 
 have some confounded advantage in this, depend upon it," 
 said the major, in a whisper to Baker. 
 
 " Are you ready ? " inquired Beaufort. 
 
 " Ready, — quite ready ! " 
 
 " Take your ground, then ! " 
 
 As Trevyllian moved forward to his place, he muttered 
 something to his friend. I did not hear the first part, but 
 the latter words which met me were ominous enough : " For 
 as I intend to shoot him, 't is just as well as it is." 
 
 Whether this was meant to be overheard and intimidate 
 me I knew not ; but its effect proved directly opposite. My 
 firm resolution to hit my antagonist was now confirmed,
 
 460 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 and no compunctious visitings unnerved my arm. As we 
 took our places some little delay again took place, the flint 
 of my pistol having fallen ; and thus we remained full ten 
 or twelve seconds steadily regarding each other. At length 
 O'Shaughnessy came forward, and putting my weapon in my 
 hand, whispered low, " Remember, you have but one chance." 
 
 " You are both ready ? " cried Beaufort. 
 
 "Ready!" 
 
 "Then: One, two—" 
 
 The last word was lost in the report of my pistol, which 
 went off at the instant. For a second the flash and smoke 
 obstructed my view ; but the moment after I saw Trevyl- 
 lian stretched upon the ground, with his friend kneeling 
 beside him. My first impulse was to rush over, for now all 
 feeling of enmity was buried in most heartfelt anxiety for 
 his fate; but as I was stepping forward, O'Shaughnessy 
 called out, " Stand fast, boy, he 's only wounded ! " and the 
 same moment he rose slowly from the ground, with the 
 assistance of his friend, and looked with the same wild 
 gaze around him. Such a look ! I shall never forget it ; 
 there was that intense expression of searching anxiety, as 
 if he sought to trace the outlines of some visionary spirit 
 as it receded before him. Quickly reassured, as it seemed, 
 by the glance he threw on all sides,- his countenance lighted 
 up, not with pleasure, but with a fiendish expression of 
 revengeful triumph, which even his voice evinced as he 
 called out : " It 's my turn now." 
 
 I felt the words in their full force, as I stood silently 
 awaiting my death wound. The pause was a long one. 
 Twice did he interrupt his friend, as he was about to give 
 the word, by an expression of suffering, pressing his hand 
 upon his side, and seeming to writhe with torture ; and yet 
 this was mere counterfeit. 
 
 O'Shaughnessy was now coming forward to interfere and 
 prevent these interruptions, when Trevyllian called out in 
 a firm tone, " I 'm ready ! " At the words, " One, two ! " 
 the pistol slowly rose ; his dark eye measured me coolly, 
 steadily ; his lip curled ; and just as I felt that my last 
 moment of life had arrived, a heavy sound of a horse gallop- 
 ing along the rocky causeway seemed to take off his atten-
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 461 
 
 tion. His frame trembled, his hand shook, and jerking 
 upwards his weapon, the ball passed high above my head. 
 
 "You bear me witness I tired in the air," said Trevyllian, 
 while the large drops of perspiration rolled from his fore- 
 head, and his features worked as if in a fit. 
 
 " You saw it, sir ; and you, Beaufort, ray friend, you 
 also. Speak I Why will you not speak ? " 
 
 " Be calm, Trevyllian ; be calm, for Heaven's sake I 
 What 's the matter with you ? " 
 
 ^3^-C>^.'>:£« 
 
 " The affair is then ended," said Baker, " and most 
 happily so. You are, I hope, not dangerously wounded." 
 
 As he spoke, Trevyllian's features grew deadly livid ; 
 his half-open mouth quivered slightly, his eyes became 
 fixed, and his arm dropped heavily beside him, and with a 
 low moan he fell fainting to the ground. 
 
 As we bent over him I now perceived that another 
 person had joined our party ; he was a short, determined- 
 looking man of about forty, with black eyes and aquiline 
 features. Before I had time to gues's who it might be, I 
 heard O'Shaughnessy address him as Colonel Conyers.
 
 4G2 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " He is dying ! " said Beaufort, still stooping over his 
 friend, whose cold hand he grasped within his own. " Poor, 
 poor fellow ! " 
 
 " He lired in the air," said Baker, as he spoke in reply 
 to a question from Conyers. 
 
 What he answered I heard not, but Baker rejoined, — 
 
 " Yes, I am certain of it. We all saw it." 
 
 " Had you not better examine his wounds ? " said Con- 
 yers, in a tone of sarcastic irony I could almost have 
 struck him for. " Is your friend not hit ? Perhaps he is 
 bleeding ? " 
 
 " Yes," said O'Shaughnessy, " let us look to the poor fel- 
 low now." So saying, with Beaufort's aid he unbuttoned 
 his frock and succeeded in opening his waistcoat. There 
 was no trace of blood anywhere, and the idea of internal 
 hemorrhage at once occurred to us, when Conyers, stooping 
 down, pushed me aside, saying at the same time, — 
 
 " Your fears for his safety need not distress you much, — 
 look here ! " As he spoke he tore open his shirt, and dis- 
 closed to our almost doubting senses a vest of chain-mail 
 armor fitting close next the skin and completely pistol- 
 proof. 
 
 I cannot describe the effect this sight produced upon us. 
 Beaufort sprang to his feet with a bound as he screamed 
 out, rather than spoke, "No man believes me to have been 
 aware — " 
 
 " No, no, Beaufort, yoiir reputation is very far removed 
 from such a stain," said Conyers. 
 
 O'Shaughnessy was perfectly speechless. He looked from 
 one to the other, as though some unexplained mystery still 
 remained, and only seemed restored to any sense of con- 
 sciousness as Baker said, " I can feel no pulse at his wrist, 
 — his heart, too, does not beat." 
 
 Conyers placed his hand upon his bosom, then felt along 
 his throat, lifted up an arm, and letting it fall heavily upon 
 the ground, he muttered, " He is dead ! " 
 
 It was true. No wound had pierced him, — the pistol bul- 
 let was found within his clothes. Some tremendous conflict 
 of the spirit within had snapped the cords of life, and the 
 strong man had perished in his agony.
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 NEWS FROM GALWAY, 
 
 I HAVE but a vague and most imperfect recollection of 
 the events which followed this dreadful scene; for some 
 days my faculties seemed stunned and paralyzed, and my 
 thoughts clung to the minute detail of the ground, — the 
 persons about, the mountain path, and most of all the half- 
 stifled cry that spoke the broken heart, — with a tenacity 
 that verged upon madness. 
 
 A court-martial was appointed to inquire into the affair ; 
 and although I have been since told that my deportment 
 was calm, and my answers were firm and collected, yet I 
 remember nothing of the proceedings. 
 
 The inquiry, through a feeling of delicacy for the friends 
 of him who was no more, was made as brief and as private 
 as possible. Beaufort proved the facts which exonerated 
 me from any imputation in the matter ; and upon the same 
 day the court delivered the decision: "That Lieutenant 
 O'Malley was not guilty of the charges preferred against 
 him, and that he should be released from arrest, and join 
 his regiment." 
 
 Nothing could be more kind and considerate than the 
 conduct of my brother officers, — a hundred little plans and 
 devices for making me forget the late unhappy event were 
 suggested and practised, — and I look back to that melan- 
 choly period, marked as it was by the saddest circumstance 
 of my life, as one in which I received more of truly friendly 
 companionship than even my palmiest days of prosperity 
 boasted. 
 
 While, therefore, I deeply felt the good part my friends 
 were performing towards me, I was still totally unsuited to 
 join in the happy current of their daily pleasures and amuse- 
 ments. The gay and unreflecting character of O'Shaugh- 
 nessy, the careless merriment of my brother officers, jarred
 
 4G4 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 upon my nerves, and rendered me irritable and excited ; and 
 I sought in lonely rides and unfrequented walks, the peace 
 of spirit that calm reflection and a firm purpose for the future 
 rarely fail to lead to. 
 
 There is in deep sorrow a touch of the prophetic. It is 
 at seasons when the heart is bowed down with grief, and 
 the spirit wasted with suffering, that the veil which con- 
 ceals the future seems to be removed, and a glance, short 
 and fleeting as the lightning flash, is permitted us into the 
 gloomy valley before us. 
 
 Misfortunes, too, come not singly, — the seared heart is 
 not suffered to heal from one affliction ere another succeeds 
 it ; and this anticipation of the coming evil is, perhaps, one 
 of the most poignant features of grief, — the ever-watchful 
 apprehension, the ever-rising question, " What next ? " is a 
 torture that never sleeps. 
 
 This was the frame of my mind for several days after I 
 returned to my duty, — a morbid sense of some threatened 
 danger being my last thought at night and my first on 
 awakening. I had not heard from home since my arrival 
 in the Peninsula; a thousand vague fancies haunted me 
 now that some brooding misfortune awaited me. My poor 
 uncle never left my thoughts. Was he well; was he 
 happy ? Was he, as he ever used to be, surrounded by the 
 friends he loved, — the old familiar faces around the hos- 
 pitable hearth his kindliness had hallowed in my memory 
 as something sacred ? Oh, could I but see his manly smile, 
 or hear his voice ! Could I but feel his hand upon my head, 
 as he was wont to press it, while words of comfort fell from 
 his lips, and sunk into my heart ! 
 
 Such were my thoughts one morning as I sauntered, un- 
 accompanied, from my quarters. I had not gone far, when 
 my attention was aroused by the noise of a mule-cart, whose 
 jingling bells and clattering timbers announced its approach 
 by the road I was walking. Another turn of the way 
 brought it into view 5 and I saw from the gay costume of 
 the driver, as well as a small orange flag which decorated 
 the conveyance, that it was the mail-cart with letters from 
 Lisbon. 
 
 Full as my mind was with thoughts of home, I turned
 
 NEWS FROM GALWAY. 465 
 
 hastily back, and retraced my steps towards the camp. 
 When I reached the adjutant-general's quarters, I found a 
 considerable number of officers assembled ; the report that 
 the post had come was a rumor of interest to all, and ac- 
 cordingly, every moment brought fresh arrivals, pouring in 
 from all sides, and eagerly inquiring, '' If the bags had been 
 opened ? " The scene of riot, confusion, and excitement, 
 when that event did take place, exceeded all belief, each 
 man reading his letter half aloud, as if his private affairs 
 and domestic concern^ must interest his neighbors, amidst a 
 volley of exclamations of surprise, pleasure, or occasional 
 anger, as the intelligence severally suggested, — the disap- 
 pointed expectants cursing their idle correspondents, be- 
 moaning their fate about remittances that never arrived, or 
 drafts never honored ; while here and there some public 
 benefactor, with an outspread ''Times" or "Chronicle," 
 was retailing the narrative of our own exploits in the 
 Peninsula or the more novel changes in the world of poli- 
 tics since we left England. A cross-fire of news and 
 London gossip ringing on every side made up a perfect 
 Babel most difficult to form an idea of. The jargon par- 
 took of every accent and intonation the empire boasts of ; 
 and from the sharp precision of the North Tweeder to the 
 broad doric of Kerry, every portion, almost every county, of 
 Great Britain had its representative. Here was a Scotch 
 paymaster, in a lugubrious tone, detailing to his friend the 
 apparently not over-welcome news that Mistress M'Elwain 
 had just been safely delivered of twins, which, with their 
 mother, were doing as well as possible. Here an eager 
 Irishman, turning over the pages rather than reading his 
 letter, while he exclaimed to his friend, — 
 
 " Oh, the devil a rap she 's sent me. The old story about 
 runaway tenants and distress notices, — sorrow else tenants 
 seem to do in Ireland than run away every half-year." 
 
 A little apart some sentimental-looking cockney was de- 
 vouring a very crossed epistle which he pressed to his lips 
 whenever any one looked at him ; while a host of others 
 satisfied themselves by reading in a kind of buzzing under- 
 tone, every now and then interrupting themselves with some 
 broken exclamation as commentary, — such as, " Of course 
 VOL. I. — 30
 
 466 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 slie will ! " " Never knew him better ! " " That 's the girl 
 for my money ! " " Fifty per cent, the devil ! " and so on. 
 At last I was beginning to weary of the scene, and finding 
 that there appeared to be nothing for me, was turning to 
 leave the place, when I saw a group of two or three 
 endeavoring to spell out the address of a letter. 
 
 " That 's an Irish post-mark, I '11 swear," said one ; " but 
 who can make anything of the name ? It 's devilish like 
 Otaheite, is n't it ? " 
 
 " I wish my tailor wrote as illegibly," said another ; 
 " I *d keep up a most animated correspondence with hiui." 
 
 "Here, O'Shaughnessy, you know something of savage 
 life, — spell us this word here." 
 
 " Show it here. What nonsense, it 's as plain as the 
 nose on my face : * Master Charles O'Malley, in foreign 
 parts ! ' " 
 
 A roar of laughter followed this announcement, which, 
 at any other time, perhaps, I should have joined in, but 
 which now grated sadly on my ruffled feelings. 
 
 "Here, Chaiiey, this is for you," said the major; and 
 added in a whisper, — " and upon my conscience, between 
 ourselves, your friend, whoever he is, has a strong action 
 against his writing-master, — devil such a fist ever I looked 
 at!" 
 
 One glance satisfied me as to my correspondent. It was 
 from Father Rush, my old tutor. I hurried eagerly from 
 the spot, and regaining my quarters, locked the door, and 
 with a beating heart broke the seal and began, as well as I 
 was able, to decipher his letter. The hand was cramped 
 and stiffened with age, and the bold, upright letters were 
 gnarled and twisted like a rustic fence, and demanded great 
 patience and much time in unravelling. It ran thus : — 
 
 The PnioRY, Lady-day, 1809. 
 My dear Master Charles, — Yonr uncle's feet are so big and 
 so uneasy that he can't write, and I am obliged to take up the pen 
 myself, to tell you how we are doing here since j'ou left us. And, 
 first of all, the master lost the lawsuit in Dublin, all for the want 
 of a Galway jury, — but they don't go up to town for strong reasons 
 they had ; and the Curranolick property is ffone to Ned M'M;uius, 
 and may the devil do him good with it ! Peggy Maher left this on
 
 NEWS FROM GALWAY. 467 
 
 Tuesday ; she was complaining of a weakness ; she 's gone to consult 
 the doctors. I 'm sorry for poor Peggy. 
 
 Owen M'Neil beat the Slatterys out of Portumna on Saturday, 
 and Jem, they say, is fractured. I trust it 's true, for he never was 
 good, root nor hi-anch, and we 've strong reasons to suspect him for 
 drawing the river with a net at night. Sir Harry Boyle sprained his 
 wrist, breaking open his bed-room, that he locked when he was in- 
 side. The count and the master were laughing all the evening at 
 him. ^Matters are going very hard in the country, — the people pay- 
 ing their rents regularly, and not caring half as much as they used 
 about the real gentry and the old families. 
 
 We kept your birthday at the Castle in great style, — had the 
 militia band from the town, and all the tenants. Mr. James Daly 
 danced with your old friend Mary Green, and sang a beautiful song, 
 and was going to raise the devil, but I interfered ; he burned down 
 half the blue drawing-room the last night with his tricks, — not that 
 your uncle cares, God preserve him to us ! it 's little anything like 
 that would fret him. The count quarrelled with a young gentleman 
 in the course of the evening, but found out he was only an attorney 
 from Dublin, so he did n't shoot him ; but he was ducked in the pond 
 by the people, and your uncle says he hopes they have a true copy of 
 him at home, as they '11 never know the original. 
 
 Peter died soon after you went away, but Tim hunts the dogs 
 just as well. They had a beautiful run last Wednesday, and the 
 Lord ^ sent for him and gave him a five-pound note ; but he says 
 he 'd rather see yourself back again than twice as much. They 
 killed near the big titmip-field, and all went down to see where you 
 leaped Badger over the sunk fence, — they call it " Hammersley's 
 Nose " ever since. Bodkin was at Ballinasloe the last fair, limping 
 about with a stick ; he 's twice as quiet as he used to be, and never 
 beat any one since that morning. 
 
 Nellie Guire, at the cross-roads, wants to send you four pair of 
 stockings she knitted for you, and I have a keg of potteen of Barney's 
 own making this two months, not knowing how to send it. May he 
 Sir Arthur himself would like a taste, — he 's an Irishman himself, 
 and one we 're proud of, too ! The Maynooth chaps are flying all 
 about the country, and making us all uncomfortable, — God's will be 
 done, but we used to think ourselves good enougli ! Your foster- 
 sister, Kitty Doolan, had a fine boy ; it 's to be called after you, and 
 your uncle 's to give a christening. He bids me tell you to draw 
 on him when you want money, and that there's £400 ready for j^ou 
 now somewhere in Dublin, — I forget the name, and as he 's asleep, I 
 
 * To excuse Father Rush for any apparent impiety, I must add that, 
 by " the Lord," he means " Lord Clanricarde."
 
 468 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 don't like asking him. There was a droll devil down here in the 
 summer that knew you well, — a Mr. Webber. The master treated 
 him like the Lord Lieutenant, had dinner parties for him, and 
 gave him Oliver Cromwell to ride over to Meelish. He is expected 
 again for the cock-shooting, for the master likes him greatly. I 'm 
 done at last, for my paper is finished and the candle just out; so with 
 every good wish and every good thought, remember your own old 
 friend, — Peter Rush. 
 
 P. S. It 's Smart and Sykes, Fleet Street, has the money. 
 Father O'Shaughnessey, of Ennis, bids me ask if you ever met his 
 nephew. If you do, make him sing " Larry M'Hale." I hear it 's a 
 treat. 
 
 How is Mickey Free going on ? There are three decent young 
 women in the parish he promised to marry, and I suppose he 's pur- 
 suing the same game with the Portuguese. But he was never 
 remarkable for minding his duties. Tell him I am keeping my eye 
 on him. P. R. 
 
 Here concluded this long epistle ; and though there were 
 many parts I could not help smiling at, yet upon the whole 
 I felt sad and dispirited. What I had long foreseen and 
 anticipated was gradually accomplishing, — the wreck of an 
 old and honored house, the fall of a name once the watch- 
 word for all that was benevolent and hospitable in the land. 
 The termination of the lawsuit I knew must have been a 
 heavy blow to my poor uncle, who, every consideration of 
 money apart, felt in a legal combat all the enthusiasm and 
 excitement of a personal conflict. With him there was less 
 a question of to whom the broad acres reverted, so much as 
 whether that " scoundrel Tom Basset, the attorney at Ath- 
 lone, should triumph over us ; " or " M'Manus live in the 
 house as master where his father had officiated as butler." 
 It was at this his Irish pride took offence ; and straitened 
 circumstances and narrowed fortunes bore little upon him 
 in comparison with this feeling. 
 
 I could see, too, that with breaking fortunes, bad health 
 was making heavy inroads upon him ; and while, with the 
 reckless desperation of ruin, he still kept open house, I 
 could picture to myself his cheerful eye and handsome 
 smile but ill concealing the slow but certain march of a 
 broken heart.
 
 NEWS FROM GALWAY. 469 
 
 My position was doubly painful : for any advice, had I 
 been calculated to give it, would have seemed an act of 
 indelicate interference from one who was to benefit by his 
 own counsel ; and although I had been reared and educated 
 as my uncle's heir, I had no title nor pretension to succeed 
 him other than his kind feelings respecting me. I could, 
 therefore, only look on in silence, and watch the painful 
 progress of our downfall without power to arrest it. 
 
 These were sad thoughts, and came when my heart was 
 already bowed down with its affliction. That my poor uncle 
 might be spared the misery which sooner or later seemed 
 inevitable, was now my only wish ; that he might go down 
 to the grave without the embittering feelings which a ruined 
 fortune and a fallen house bring home to the heart, was all 
 my prayer. Let him but close his eyes in the old wainscoted 
 bed-room, beneath the old roof where his fathers and grand- 
 fathers have done so for centuries. Let the faithful follow- 
 ers he has known since his childhood stand round his bed ; 
 while his fast-failing sight recognizes each old and well- 
 remembered object, and the same bell which rang its fare- 
 well to the spirit of his ancestors toll for him, the last of 
 his race. And as for me, there was the wide world before 
 me, and a narrow resting-place would suffice for a soldier's 
 sepulchre. 
 
 As the mail-cart was returning the next day to Lisbon, I 
 immediately sat down and replied to the worthy Father's 
 letter, speaking as encouragingly as I could of my own 
 prospects. I dwelt much upon what was nearest my heart, 
 and begged of the good priest to watch over my uncle's 
 health, to cheer his spirits and support his courage ; and 
 that I trusted the day was not far distant when I should 
 be once more among them, with many a story of fray and 
 battle-field to enliven their firesides. Pressing him to write 
 frequently to me, I closed my hurried letter ; and having 
 despatched it, sat sorrowfully down to muse over my 
 fortunes.
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 • AN ADVENTURE WITH SIR ARTHUR. 
 
 The events of the last few days had impressed me with a 
 weight of years. The awful circumstances of that evening 
 lay heavily at my heart ; and though guiltless of Trevyl- 
 lian's blood, the reproach that conscience ever carries when 
 one has been involved in a death-scene never left my 
 thoughts. 
 
 For some time previously I had been depressed and dis- 
 spirited, and the awful shock I had sustained broke my 
 nerve and unmanned me greatly. 
 
 There are times when our sorrows tinge all the colorings 
 of our thoughts, and one pervading hue of melancholy 
 spreads like a pall upon what we have of fairest and 
 brightest on earth. So was it now : I had lost hope and 
 ambition ; a sad feeling that my career was destined to 
 misfortune and mishap gained hourly upon me ; and all the 
 bright aspirations of a soldier's glory, all my enthusiasm 
 for the pomp and circumstance of glorious Avar, fell coldly 
 upon my heart, and I looked upon the chivalry of a soldier's 
 life as the empty pageant of a dream. 
 
 In this sad frame of mind, I avoided all inlerconrse with 
 my brother officers ; their gay and joyous spirits only jarred 
 upon my brooding thoughts, and feigning illness, I kept 
 almost entirely to ray quarters. 
 
 The inactivity of our present life weighed also heavily 
 upon me. The stirring events of a campaign — the march, 
 the bivouac, the picket — call forth a certain physical exer- 
 tion that never fails to react upon the torpid mind. 
 
 Forgetting all around me, I thought of home ; I thought 
 of those whose hearts I felt were now turning towards me, 
 and considered within myself how I could have exchanged 
 the home, the days of peaceful happiness there, for the life 
 of misery and disappointment I now endured.
 
 A^ ADVENTURE WITH SIR ARTHUR. 471 
 
 A brooding melancholy gained daily more and more upon 
 me. A wish to return to Ireland, a vague and indistinct 
 feeling that my career was not destined for aught of great 
 and good crept upon me, and I longed to sink into oblivion, 
 forgotten and forgot. 
 
 I record this painful feeling here, while it is still a painful 
 memory, as one of the dark shadows that cross the bright 
 sky of our happiest days. 
 
 Happy, indeed, are they, as we look back to them and 
 remember the times we have pronounced ourselves "the 
 most miserable of mankind." This, somehow, is a confes- 
 sion we never make later on in life, when real troubles and 
 true afflictions assail us. AVhether we call in more philoso- 
 phy to our aid, or that our senses become less acute and dis- 
 cerning, I 'm sure I know not. 
 
 As for me, I confess by far the greater portion of my 
 sorrows seemed to come in that budding period of existence 
 when life is ever fairest and most captivating. Not, per- 
 haps, that the fact was really so, but the spoiled and hu- 
 mored child, whose caprices were a law, felt heavily the 
 threatening difficulties of his first voyage ; while as he 
 continued to sail over the ocean of life, he braved the storm 
 and the squall, and felt only gratitude for the favoring breeze 
 that wafted him upon his course. 
 
 What an admirable remedy for misanthropy is the being 
 placed in a subordinate condition in life ! Had I, at the 
 period that I write, been Sir Arthur Wellesley ; had I even 
 been Marshal Beresford, — to all certainty I 'd have played 
 the very devil with his Majesty's forces ; I 'd have brought 
 my rascals to where they 'd have been well-peppered, that 's 
 certain. 
 
 But as, luckily for the sake of humanity in general and 
 the well-being of the service in particular, I was merely 
 Lieutenant O'Malley, 14th Light Dragoons, the case was 
 very different. With what heavy censure did I condemn the 
 commander of the forces in my own miud for his want of 
 daring and enterprise ! Whole nights did I pass in endeav- 
 oring to account for his inactivity and lethargy. Why he 
 did not seriatim fall upon Soult, ISTey, and Victor, annihilate 
 the French forces, and sack Madrid, I looked upon as little
 
 472 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 less than a riddle ; and yet there he waited, drilling, exer- 
 cising, and foraging, as if he were at Hounslow. Now most 
 fortunately here again I was not Sir Arthur. 
 
 Something in this frame of mind, I was taking one even- 
 ing a solitary ride some miles from the camp. Without 
 noticing the circumstance, I had entered a little mountain 
 tract, when, the ground being broken and uneven, I dis- 
 mounted and proceeded a-foot, with the bridle within my 
 arm. I had not gone far when the clatter of a horse's hoofs 
 came rapidly towards me, and though there was something 
 startling in the pace over such a piece of road, I never lifted 
 my eyes as the horseman came up, but continued my slow 
 progress onwards, my head sunk upon my bosom. 
 
 " Hallo, sir ! " cried a sharp voice, Avhose tones seemed, 
 somehow, not heard for the first time. I looked up, saw a 
 slight figure closely buttoned up in a blue horseman's cloak, 
 the collar of which almost entirely hid his features ; he wore 
 a plain, cocked hat without a feather, and was mounted upon 
 a sharp, wiry-looking hack. 
 
 " Hallo, sir ! What regiment do you belong to ? " 
 
 As I had nothing of the soldier about me, save a blue 
 foraging cap, to denote my corps, the tone of the demand 
 was little calculated to elicit a very polished reply ; but pre- 
 ferring, as most impertinent, to make no answer, I passed 
 on without speaking. 
 
 " Did you hear, sir ? " cried the same voice, in a still 
 louder key. " What 's your regiment ? " 
 
 I now turned round, resolved to question the other in 
 turn ; when, to my inexpressible shame and confusion, he 
 had lowered the collar of his cloak, and I saw the features 
 of Sir Arthur Wellesley. 
 
 " Fourteenth Light Dragoons, sir," said I, blushing as I 
 spoke. 
 
 " Have you not read the general order, sir ? Why have 
 you left the camp ? " 
 
 Now, I had not read a general order nor even heard one 
 for above a fortnight. So I stammered out some bungling 
 answer. 
 
 " To your quarters, sir, and report yourself under arrest. 
 What '8 your name ? "
 
 AN ADVENTURE WITH SIR ARTHUR. 473 
 
 "Lieutenant O'Malley, sir." 
 
 " Well, sir, your passion for rambling shall be indulged. 
 You shall be sent to the rear with despatches ; and as the 
 army is in advance, probably the lesson may be serviceable." 
 So saying, he pressed spurs to his horse, and was out of sight 
 in a moment.
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 TALAVERA. 
 
 Having been despatched to the rear with orders for 
 General Crawfurd, I did not reach Talavera till the morn- 
 ing of the 28th. Two days' hard fighting had left the con- 
 tending armies still face to face, and without any decided 
 advantage on either side. 
 
 When I arrived upon the battle-field, the combat of the 
 morning was over. It was then ten o'clock, and the troops 
 Avere at breakfast, if the few ounces of wheat sparingly dealt 
 out among them could be dignified by that name. All was, 
 however, life and animation on every side ; the merry laugh, 
 the passing jest, the careless look, bespoke the free and dar- 
 ing character of the soldiery, as they sat in groups upon the 
 grass ; and except when a fatigue party passed by, bearing 
 some wounded comrade to the rear, no touch of seriousness 
 rested upon their hardy features. The morning was indeed 
 a glorious one ; a sky of unclouded blue stretched above a 
 landscape unsurpassed in loveliness. Far to the right rolled 
 on in placid stream the broad Tagus, bathing in its eddies 
 the very walls of Talavera, the ground from which, to our 
 position, gently undulated across a plain of most fertile rich- 
 ness and terminated on our extreme left in a bold height, 
 protected in front by a ravine, and flanked by a deep and 
 rugged valley. 
 
 The Spaniards occupied the right of the line, connecting 
 with our troops at a rising ground, upon which a strong 
 redoubt had been hastily thrown up. The fourth division 
 and the Guards were stationed here, next to whom came 
 Cameron's brigade and the Germans, Mackenzie and Hill 
 holding the extreme left of all, which might be called the 
 key of our position. In the valley beneath the latter were 
 picketed three cavalry regiments, among which I was not 
 long in detecting my gallant friends of the Twenty -third.
 
 TALAVERA. 475 
 
 As I rode rapidly past, saluting some old familiar face at 
 each moment, I could not help feeling struck at the evi- 
 dence of the desperate battle that so lately had raged 
 there. The whole surface of the hill was one mass of dead 
 and dying, the bearskin of the French grenadier lying side 
 by side with the tartan of the Highlander. Deep furrows 
 in the soil showed the track of the furious cannonade, and 
 the terrible evidences of a bayonet charge were written in 
 the mangled corpses around. 
 
 The fight had been maintained without any intermission 
 from daybreak till near nine o'clock that morning, and the 
 slaughter on both sides was dreadful. The mounds of fresh 
 earth on every side told of the soldier's sepulchre ; and the 
 unceasing tramp of the pioneers struck sadly upon the ear, 
 as the groans of the wounded blended with the funeral 
 sounds around them. 
 
 In front were drawn up the dark legions of France , — 
 massive columns of infantry, with dense bodies of artillery 
 alternating along the line. They, too, occupied a gently 
 rising ground, the valley between the two armies being 
 crossed half way by a little rivulet ; and here, during the 
 sultry heat of the morning, the troops on both sides met 
 and mingled to quench their thirst ere the trumpet again 
 called them to the slaughter. 
 
 In a small ravine near the centre of our line were drawn 
 up Cotton's brigade, of whom the Fusiliers formed a part. 
 Directly in front of this were Campbell's brigade, to the 
 left of which, upon a gentle slope, the staff were now as- 
 sembled. Thither, accordingly, I bent my steps, and as 
 I came up the little scarp, found myself among the gener- 
 als of division, hastily summoned by Sir Arthur to deliber- 
 ate upon a forward movement. The council lasted scarcely 
 a quarter of an hour, and when I presented myself to 
 deliver my report, all the dispositions for the battle had 
 been decided upon, and the commander of the forces, seated 
 upon the grass at his breakfast, looked by far the most un- 
 concerned and uninterested man I had seen that morning. 
 
 He turned his head rapidly as I came up, and before the 
 aide-de-camp could announce me, called out : — 
 
 " Well, sir, what news of the reinforcements ? "
 
 476 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " They cannot reach Talavera before to-morrow, sir." 
 
 " Then, before that, we shall not want them. That will 
 do, sir." 
 
 So saying, he resumed his breakfast, and I retired, more 
 than ever struck with the surprising coolness of the man 
 upon whom no disappointment seemed to have the slightest 
 influence. 
 
 I had scarcely rejoined my regiment, and Avas giving an 
 account to my brother oificers of my journey, when an 
 aide-de-camp came galloping at full speed down the line, 
 and communicating with the several commanding oflS.cers 
 as he passed. 
 
 What might be the nature of the orders we could not 
 guess at ; for no word to fall in followed, and yet it was 
 evident something of importance was at hand. Upon the 
 hill where the staff were assembled no unusual bustle ap- 
 peared ; and we could see the bay cob of Sir Arthur still 
 being led up and down by the groom, with a dragoon's 
 mantle thrown over him. The soldiers, overcome by the 
 heat and fatigue of the morning, lay stretched around upon 
 the grass, and everything bespoke a period of rest and 
 refreshment. 
 
 " We are going to advance, depend upon it ! " said a 
 young officer beside me ; " the repulse of this morning has 
 been a smart lesson to the French, and Sir Arthur won't 
 leave them without impressing it upon them." 
 
 " Hark, what 's that ? " cried Baker ; " listen ! " 
 
 As he spoke, a strain of most delicious music came wafted 
 across the plain. It was from the band of a French regi- 
 ment, and mellowed by the distance, it seemed in the calm 
 stillness of the morning air like something less of earth 
 than heaven. As we listened, the notes swelled upwards 
 yet fuller ; and one by one the different bands seemed to 
 join, till at last the whole air seemed full of the rich flood 
 of melody. 
 
 We could now perceive the stragglers were rapidly 
 falling back, while high above all other sounds the clang- 
 ing notes of the trumpet were heard along the line. The 
 hoarse drum now beat to arms ; and soon after a brilliant 
 staff rode slowly from between two dense bodies of infan-
 
 TALAVERA. 477 
 
 try, and advancing some distance into the plain, seemed 
 to reconnoitre us. A cloud of Polish cavalry, distinguished 
 by their long lances and floating banners, loitered in their 
 rear. 
 
 We had not time for further observation, when the 
 drums on our side beat to arms, and the hoarse cry, " Fall 
 in, — fall in there, lads ! " resounded along the line. 
 
 It was now one o'clock, and before half an hour the 
 troops had resumed the position of the morning, and stood 
 silent and anxious spectators of the scene before them. 
 
 Upon the table-land to the rear of the French position, 
 we could descry the gorgeous tent of King Joseph, around 
 which a large and splendidly-accoutred staff were seen 
 standing. Here, too, the bustle and excitement seemed 
 considerable, for to this point the dark masses of the in- 
 fantry seemed converging from the extreme right; and 
 here we could perceive the royal guards and the reserve 
 now forming in column of attack. 
 
 From the crest of the hill down to the very valley, the 
 dark, dense ranks extended, the flanks protected by a 
 powerful artillery and deep masses of heavy cavalry. It 
 was evident that the attack was not to commence on our 
 side, and the greatest and most intense anxiety pervaded 
 us as to what part of our line was first to be assailed. 
 
 IMeanwhile Sir Arthur Wellesley, who from the height 
 had been patiently observing the field of battle, despatched 
 an aide-de-camp at full gallop towards Campbell's brigade, 
 posted directly in advance of us. As he passed swiftly 
 along, he called out, " You 're in for it. Fourteenth ; you '11 
 have to open the ball to-day." 
 
 Scarcely were the words spoken, Avhen a signal gun from 
 the French boomed heavily through the still air. The last 
 echo was growing fainter, and the heavy smoke breaking 
 into mist, when the most deafening thunder ever my ears 
 heard came pealing around us ; eighty pieces of artillery 
 had opened upon us, sending a very tempest of balls upon 
 our line, while midst the smoke and dust we could see the 
 light troops advancing at a run, followed by the broad and 
 massive columns in all the terror and majesty of war. 
 
 "What a splendid attack! How gallantly they come
 
 478 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 on ! " cried an old veteran officer beside me, forgetting all 
 rivalry in his noble admiration of our enemy. 
 
 The intervening space was soon passed, and the tirailleurs 
 falling back as the columns came on, the towering masses 
 bore down upon Campbell's division with a loud cry of 
 defiance. Silently and steadily the English infantry awaited 
 the attack, and returning the fire with one withering volley, 
 ■were ordered to charge. Scarcely were the bayonets low- 
 ered, when the head of the advancing column broke and 
 fled, while Mackenzie's brigade, overlapping the flank, 
 pushed boldly forward, and a scene of frightful carnage 
 followed ; for a moment a hand-to-hand combat was sus- 
 tained, but the unbroken files and impregnable bayonets 
 of the English conquered, and the French fled, leaving six 
 guns behind them. 
 
 The gallant enemy were troops of tried and proved covir- 
 age, and scarcely had they retreated when they again 
 formed ; but just as they prepared to come forward, a tre- 
 mendous shower of grape opened upon them from our 
 batteries, while a cloud of Spanish horse assailed them in 
 flank and nearly cut them in pieces. 
 
 While this was passing on the right, a tremendous attack 
 menaced the hill upon which our left was posted. Two 
 powerful columns of French infantry, supported by some 
 regiments of light cavalry, came steadily forward to the 
 attack ; Anson's brigade were ordered to charge. 
 
 Away they went at top speed, but had not gone above 
 a hundred yards when they were suddenly arrested by 
 a deep chasm ; here the German hussars pulled short up, 
 but the Twenty -third dashing impetuously forward ; a scene 
 of terrific carnage ensued, men and horses rolling indis- 
 criminately together under a withering fire from the French 
 squares. Even here, however, British valor quailed not, for 
 Major Francis Ponsonby, forming all who came up, rode 
 boldly upon a brigade of French chasseurs in the rear. 
 Victor, who from the first had watched the movement, at 
 once despatched a lancer regiment against them, and then 
 these brave fellows were absolutely cut to atoms, the few 
 who escaped having passed through the French columns 
 and reached Bassecour's Spanish division on the far right.
 
 TALAVERA. 479 
 
 During this time the hill was again assailed, and even 
 more desperately than before ; while Victor himself led on 
 the fourth corps to an attack upon our right and centre. 
 
 The Guards waited without flinching the impetuous rush 
 of the advancing columns, and when at length within a 
 short distance, dashed forward with the bayonet, driving 
 everything before them. The French fell back upon their 
 sustaining masses, and rallying in an instant, again came 
 forward, supported by a tremendous Are from their bat- 
 teries. The Guards drew back, and the German Legion, 
 suddenly thrown into confusion, began to retire in disorder. 
 This was the most critical moment of the day, for although 
 successful upon the extreme right and left of our line, our 
 centre was absolutely broken. Just at this moment Gordon 
 rode up to our brigade ; his face was pale, and his look 
 flurried and excited. 
 
 " The Forty-eighth are coming ; here they are, — support 
 them, Fourteenth." 
 
 These few words were all he spoke ; and the next moment 
 the measured tread of a column was heard behind us. On 
 they came like one man, their compact and dense formation 
 looking like some massive wall ; wheeling by companies, 
 they suffered the Guards and Germans to retire behind 
 them, and then, reforming into line, they rushed forward 
 with the bayonet. Our artillery opened with a deafening 
 thunder behind them, and then we were ordered to charge. 
 
 We came on at a trot ; the Guards, who had now recov- 
 ered their formation, cheered us as we proceeded. The 
 smoke of the cannonade obscured everything until we had 
 advanced some distance, but just as we emerged beyond the 
 line of the gallant Forty-eighth, the splendid panorama of 
 the battle-field broke suddenly upon us. 
 
 "Charge, forward!" cried the hoarse voice of our 
 colonel ; and we were upon them. The French infantry, 
 already broken by the withering musketry of our people, 
 gave way before us, and unable to form a square, retired 
 fighting but in confusion, and with tremendous loss, to 
 their position. One glorious cheer, from left to right of 
 our line, proclaimed the victory, while a deafening dis- 
 charge of artillery from the French replied to this defiance,
 
 480 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 and the battle was over. Had the Spanish army been 
 capable of a forward movement, our successes at this moment 
 would have been much more considerable ; but they did 
 not dare to change their position, and the repulse of our 
 enemy was destined to be all our glory. The French, 
 however, suffered much more severely than we did; and 
 retiring during the night, fell back behind the Alberche. 
 leaving us the victory and the battle-field.
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 NIGHT AFTER TALAVEBA. 
 
 The night which followed the battle was a sad one. 
 Through the darkness, and under a fast-falling rain, the 
 hours were spent in searching for our wounded comrades 
 amidst the heap of slain upon the field ; and the glimmering 
 of the lanterns, as they flickered far and near across the 
 wide plain, bespoke the track of the fatigue parties in 
 their mournful round; while the groans of the wounded 
 rose amidst the silence with an accent of heart-rending an- 
 guish; so true was it, as our great commander said, *' There 
 is nothing more sad than a victory, except a defeat." 
 
 Around our bivouac fires, the feeling of sorrowful de- 
 pression was also evident. We had gained a great victory, 
 it was true : we had beaten the far-famed legions of France 
 upon a ground of their own choosing, led by the most cele- 
 brated of their marshals and under the eyes of the Emper- 
 or's own brother ; but still we felt all the hazardous daring 
 of our position, and had no confidence whatever in the 
 courage or discipline of our allies ; and we saw that in the 
 very melie of the battle the eiforts of the enemy were 
 directed almost exclusively against our line, so confidently 
 did they undervalue the efforts of the Spanish troops. 
 Morning broke at length, and scarcely was the heavy mist 
 clearing away before the red sunlight, when the sounds of 
 fife and drum were heard from a distant part of the field. 
 The notes swelled or sank as the breeze rose or fell, and 
 many a conjecture was hazarded as to their meaning, for 
 no object was well visible for more than a few hundred 
 yards oif; gradually, however, they grew nearer and 
 nearer, and at length, as the air cleared, and the hazy 
 vapor evaporated, the bright scarlet uniform of a British 
 regiment was seen advancing at a quick-step. 
 
 As they came nearer, the well-known march of the gal- 
 lant 43d was recognized by some of our people, and imme- 
 
 VOL. I. — 31
 
 482 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 diately the rumor fled like lightning : " It is Crawfurd's 
 brigade ! " and so it was ; the noble fellow had inarched his 
 division the unparalleled distance of sixty English miles in 
 twenty-seven hours. Over a burning sandy soil, exposed to 
 a raging sun, without rations, almost without water, these 
 gallant troops pressed on in the unwearied hope of sharing 
 the glory of the battle-field. One tremendous cheer wel- 
 comed the head of the column as they marched past, and 
 continued till the last file had deployed before us. 
 
 As these splendid regiments moved by we could not help 
 feeling what signal service they might have rendered us but 
 a few hours before. Their soldier-like bearing, their high 
 and effective state of discipline, their well-known reputa- 
 tion, were in every mouth ; and I scarcely think that any 
 corps who stood the brunt of the mighty battle were the 
 subject of more encomium than the brave fellows who had 
 just joined us. 
 
 The mournful duties of the night were soon forgotten in 
 the gay and buoyant sounds on every side. Congratulations, 
 shaking of hands, kind inquiries, went round ; and as we 
 looked to the hilly ground where so lately were drawn up 
 in battle array the dark columns of our enemy, and where 
 not one sentinel now remained, the proud feeling of our 
 victory came home to our hearts with the ever-thrilling 
 thought, " What will they say at home ? " 
 
 I was standing amidst a group of my brother officers, 
 when I received an order from the colonel to ride down to 
 Talavera for the return of our wounded, as the arrival of 
 the commander-in-chief was momentarily looked for. I 
 threw myself upon my horse, and setting out at a brisk 
 pace, soon reached the gates. 
 
 On entering the town, I was obliged to dismount and pro- 
 ceed on foot. The streets were completely filled with 
 people, treading their way among wagons, forage carts, and 
 sick-litters. Here was a booth filled with all imaginable 
 wares for sale ; there was a temporary gin-shop established 
 beneath a broken baggage-wagon; here might be seen a 
 merry party throwing dice for a turkey or a kid ; there, a 
 wounded man, with bloodless cheek and tottering step, in- 
 quiring the road to the hospital. The accents of agony 
 mingled with the drunken chorus, and the sharp crack of
 
 NIGHT AFTER TALAVERA. 483 
 
 the provost-marshal's whip was heard above the boisterous 
 revelling of the debauchee. All was confusion, bustle, and 
 excitement. The staff officer, with his flowing plume and 
 glittering epaulettes, wended his way on foot, amidst the din 
 and bustle, unnoticed and uncared for ; while the little 
 drummer amused an admiring audience of simple country- 
 folk by some wondrous tale of the great victory. 
 
 My passage through this dense mass was necessarily a 
 slow one. No one made way for another ; discipline for the 
 time was at an end, and with it all respect for rank or 
 position. It was what nothing of mere vicissitude in the 
 fortune of war can equal, — the wild orgies of an army the 
 day after a battle. 
 
 On turning the corner of a narrow street, my attention 
 was attracted by a crowd which, gathered round a small 
 fountain, seemed, as well as I could perceive, to wit- 
 ness some proceeding with a more than ordinary interest. 
 Exclamations in Portuguese, expressive of surprise and 
 admiration, were mingled with English oaths and Irish 
 ejaculations, while high above all rose other sounds, — the 
 cries of some one in pain and suffering ; forcing my way 
 through the dense group, I at length reached the interior of 
 the crowd when, to my astonishment, I perceived a short, 
 fat, punchy-looking man, stripped of his coat and waist-coat, 
 and with his shirt-sleeves rolled up to his shoulder, busily 
 employed in operating upon a wounded soldier. Amputa- 
 tion knives, tourniquets, bandages, and all other imaginable 
 instruments for giving or alleviating torture were strewed 
 about him, and from the arrangement and preparation, it 
 was clear that he had pitched upon this spot as an hospital 
 for his patients. While he continued to perform his func- 
 tions with a singular speed and dexterity, he never for a 
 moment ceased a running fire of small talk, now addressed 
 to the patient in particular, now to the crowd at large, 
 sometimes a soliloquy to himself, and not unfrequently, 
 abstractedly, upon things in general. These little speci- 
 mens of oratory, delivered in such a place at such a time, 
 and, not least of all, in the richest imaginable Cork accent, 
 were sufficient to arrest my steps, and I stopped for some 
 time to observe him.
 
 484 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 The patient, who was a large, powerfully-built fellow, 
 had been wounded in both legs by the explosion of a shell, 
 but yet not so severely as to require amputation, 
 
 " Does that plaze you, then ? " said the doctor, as he 
 applied some powerful caustic to a wounded vessel ; " there 's 
 no satisfying the like of you. Quite warm and comfortable 
 ye '11 be this morning after that. I saw the same shell 
 coming, and I called out to Maurice Blake, ' By your leave, 
 Maurice, let that fellow pass, he 's in a hurr}^ ! ' and faith, 
 I said to myself, ' there 's more where you came from, — 
 you're not an only child, and I never liked the family.' 
 What are ye grinning for, ye brown thieves ? " This was 
 addressed to the Portuguese. " There, now, keep the limb 
 quiet and easy. Upon my conscience, if that shell fell into 
 ould Lundy Foot's shop this morning, there 'd be plenty of 
 sneezing in Sacksville Street. Who 's next ? " said he, 
 looking round with an expression that seemed to threaten 
 that if no wounded man was ready he was quite prepared 
 to carve out a patient for himself. Not exactly relishing 
 the invitation in the searching that accompanied it, I 
 backed my way through the crowd, and continued my path 
 towards the hospital. 
 
 Here the scene which presented itself was shocking be- 
 yond belief, — frightful and ghastly wounds from shells and 
 cannon-shot were seen on all sides, every imaginable species 
 of suifering that man is capable of was presented to view ; 
 while amidst the dead and dying, operations the most pain- 
 ful were proceeding with a haste and bustle that plainly 
 showed how many more waited their turn for similar 
 offices. The stairs were blocked up with fresh arrivals of 
 wounded men, and even upon the corridors and landing- 
 places the sick were strewn on all sides. 
 
 I hurried to that part of the building where my own 
 people were, and soon learned that our loss was confined to 
 about fourteen wounded; five of them were officers. But 
 fortunately, we lost not a man of our gallant fellows, and 
 Talavera brought us no mourning for a comrade to damp 
 the exultation we felt in our victory.
 
 CHAPTER LXVII. 
 
 THE OUTPOST. 
 
 During the three days which succeeded the battle, all 
 things remained as they were before. The enemy had 
 gradually withdrawn all his forces, and our most advanced 
 pickets never came in sight of a French detachment. Still, 
 although we had gained a great victory, our situation was 
 anything but flattering. The_ most strenuous exertions of 
 the commissariat were barely sufficient to provision the 
 troops ; and we had even already but too much experience 
 of how little trust or reliance could be reposed in the 
 most lavish promises of our allies. It was true, our spirits 
 failed us not ; but it was rather from an implicit and never- 
 failing confidence in the resources of our great leader, than 
 that any among us could see his way through the dense 
 cloud of difficulty and danger that seemed to envelop us on 
 every side. 
 
 To add to the pressing emergency of our position, we 
 learned on the evening of the 31st that Soult was advancing 
 from the north, and at the head of fourteen thousand chosen 
 troops in full march upon Placentia ; thus threatening our 
 rear, at the very moment too, when any further advance 
 was evidently impossible. 
 
 On the morning of the 1st of August, I was ordered, with 
 a small party, to push forward in the direction of the 
 Alberche, upon the left bank of which it was reported that 
 the French were again concentrating their forces, and if 
 possible, to obtain information of their future movements. 
 Meanwhile the army was about to fall back upon Oropesa, 
 there to await Soult's advance, and if necessary, to give him 
 battle ; Cuesta engaging with his Spaniards to secure Tal- 
 avera, with its stores and hospitals, against any present 
 movement from Victor. 
 
 After a hearty breakfast, and a kind " Good-by ! " from 
 my brother officers, I set out. My road along the Tagus,
 
 486 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 for several miles of the way, was a narrow path scarped 
 from the rocky ledge of the river, shaded by rich olive 
 plantations that threw a friendly shade over us during the 
 noonday heat. 
 
 We travelled along silently, sparing our cattle from time 
 to time, but endeavoring ere nightfall to reach Torrijos, in 
 which village we had heard several French soldiers were in 
 hospital. Our information leading us to believe them very 
 inadequately guarded, we hoped to make some prisoners, 
 from whom the information we sought could in all likeli- 
 hood be obtained. More than once during the day our road 
 was crossed by parties similar to our own, sent forward to 
 reconnoitre ; and towards evening a party of the 23d Light 
 Dragoons, returning towards Talavera, informed us that 
 the French had retired from Torrijos, which was now 
 occupied by an English detachment under my old friend 
 O'Shaughnessy. 
 
 I need not say with what pleasure I heard this piece of 
 news, and eagerly pressed forward, preferring the warm 
 shelter and hospitable board the major was certain of pos- 
 sessing, to the cold blast and dripping grass of a bivouac. 
 Night, however, fell fast ; darkness, without an intervening 
 twilight, set in, and we lost our way. A bleak table-land 
 with here and there a stunted, leafless tree was all that 
 we could discern by the pale light of a new moon. An 
 apparently interminable heath uncrossed by path or foot- 
 track was before us, and our jaded cattle seemed to feel 
 the dreary uncertainty of the prospect as sensitively as our- 
 selves, — stumbling and over-reaching at every step. 
 
 Cursing my ill-luck for such a misadventure, and once 
 more picturing to my mind the bright blazing hearth and 
 smoking supper I had hoped to partake of, I called a halt, 
 and prepared to pass the night. My decision was hastened 
 by finding myself suddenly in a little grove of pine-trees 
 whose shelter was not to be despised ; besides that, our 
 bivouac fires were now sure of being supplied. 
 
 It was fortunate the night was fine, though dark. In a 
 calm, still atmosphere, when not a leaf moved nor a branch 
 stirred, we picketed our tired horses, and shaking out their 
 forage, heaped up in the midst a blazing fire of the fir-tree.
 
 THE OUTPOST. 487 
 
 Our humble supper was produced, and even with the still 
 lingering revery of the major and his happier destiny, I 
 began to feel comfortable. 
 
 My troopers, who probably had not been flattering their 
 imaginations with such gourviand reflections and views, sat 
 happily around their cheerful blaze, chatting over the great 
 battle they had so lately witnessed, and mingling their 
 stories of some comrade's prowess with sorrows for the 
 dead and proud hopes for the future. In the midst, upon 
 his knees beside the flame, was Mike, disputing, detailing, 
 guessing, and occasionally inventing, — all his arguments 
 only tending to one view of the late victory : " That it was 
 the Lord's mercy the most of the 48th was Irish, or we 
 would n't be sitting there now ! " 
 
 Despite Mr. Free's conversational gifts, however, his 
 audience one by one dropped off in sleep, leaving him sole 
 monarch of the watch-fire, and — what he thought more of 
 — a small brass kettle nearly full of brandy -and-water. 
 This latter, I perceived, he produced when all was tranquil, 
 and seemed, as he cast a furtive glance around, to assure 
 himself that he was the only company present. 
 
 Lying some yards olf, I watched him for about an hour, 
 as he sat rubbing his hands before the blaze, or lifting the 
 little vessel to his lips ; his droll features ever and anon 
 seeming acted upon by some passing dream of former devil- 
 ment, as he smiled and muttered some sentences in an 
 under-voice. Sleep at length overpowered me ; but my last 
 waking thoughts were haunted with a singular ditty by 
 which Mike accompanied himself as he kept burnishing the 
 buttons of my jacket before the fire, now and then inter- 
 rupting the melody by a recourse to the copper. 
 
 " Well, well ; you 're clean enough now, and sure it 's 
 little good brightening you up, when you '11 be as bad to- 
 morrow. Like his father's son, devil a lie in it ! Nothing 
 would serve him but his best blue jacket to fight in, as if 
 the French was particular what they killed us in. Pleasant 
 trade, upon my conscience ! Well, never mind. That 's 
 beautiful sperets, anyhow. Your health, Mickey Free ; it 'a 
 yourself that stands to me.
 
 488 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " It 's little for glory I care ; 
 
 Sure ambition is only a fable ; 
 I 'd as soon be myself as Lord Mayor, 
 
 With lashings of drink on the table. 
 I like to lie down in the sun 
 
 And dravie, when my faytures is scorchin* 
 That when I 'm too ould for more fun, 
 
 Why, I '11 marry a wife with a fortune. 
 
 ** And in winter, with bacon and eggs, 
 And a place at the tmf-fire basking, 
 
 Sip my punch as I roasted my legs. 
 
 Oh, the devil a more I 'd be asking ! 
 
 For I have n't njanius for work, — 
 It was never the gift of the Bradies, — 
 
 But I 'd make a most illigant Turk, 
 For I 'm fond of tobacco and ladies." 
 
 This confounded refrain kept ringing through my dream, 
 and " tobacco and ladies " mingled with my thoughts of 
 storm and battle-field long after their very gifted author 
 had composed himself to slumber. 
 
 Sleep, and sound sleep, came at length, and many hours 
 elapsed ere I awoke. When I did so, my fire was reduced 
 to its last embers. Mike, like the others, had sunk in slum- 
 ber, and midst the gray dawn that precedes the morning, I 
 could just perceive the dark shadows of my troopers as they 
 lay in groups around. 
 
 The fatigues of the previous day had so completely over- 
 come me, that it was with difficulty I could arouse myself 
 so far as to heap fresh logs upon the fire. This I did with 
 my eyes half closed, and in that listless, dreamy state which 
 seems the twilight of sleep. 
 
 I managed so much, however, and was returning to my 
 couch beneath a tree, when suddenly an object presented itself 
 to my eyes that absolutely rooted me to the spot. At about 
 twenty or thirty yards distant, where but the moment before 
 the long line of horizon terminated the view, there now stood 
 a huge figure of some ten or twelve feet in height, — two 
 heads, which surmounted this colossal personage, moved al- 
 ternately from side to side, while several arms waved loosely 
 to and fro in the most strange and uncouth manner. My
 
 THE OUTPOST. 489 
 
 first impression was that a dream had conjured up this dis- 
 torted image ; but when I had assured myself by repeated 
 pinchings and shakings that I was really awake, still it re- 
 mained there. I was never much given to believe in ghosts ; 
 but even had I been so, this strange apparition must have 
 puzzled me as much as ever, for it could not have been the 
 representative of anything I ever heard of before. 
 
 A vague suspicion that some French trickery was con- 
 cerned, induced me -to challenge it in French; so, without 
 advancing a step, I halloed out, " Qui va la ? " 
 
 JVIy voice aroused a sleeping soldier, who, springing up 
 beside 'me, had hi^ carbine at the cock ; while, equally 
 thunderstruck with myself, he gazed at the monster. 
 
 " Qui va la ? " shouted I again, and no answer was re- 
 turned, when suddenly the huge object wheeled rapidly 
 around, and without waiting for any further parley, made 
 for the thicket. 
 
 The tramp of a horse's feet now assured me as to the 
 nature of at least part of the spectacle, when click went the 
 trigger behind me, and the trooper's ball rushed whistling 
 through the brushwood. In a moment the whole party were 
 up and stirring. 
 
 " This way, lads ! " cried I, as drawing my sabre, I dashed 
 into the pine wood. 
 
 For a few moments all was dark as midnight ; but as we 
 proceeded farther, we came out upon a little open space 
 which commanded the plain beneath for a great extent. 
 
 "There it goes !" said one of the men, pointing to a nar- 
 row, beaten path, in which the tall figure moved at a slow 
 and stately pace, while still the same wild gestures of hea'is 
 and limbs continued. 
 
 " Don't fire, men ! don't fire ! " I cried, " but follow me," 
 as I set forward as hard as I could. 
 
 As we neared it, the frantic gesticulations grew more and 
 more remarkable, while some stray words, which we half 
 caught, sounded like English in our ears. We were now 
 within pistol-shot distance, when suddenly the horse — for 
 that much at least we were assured of — stumbled and fell 
 forward, precipitating the remainder of the object headlong 
 into the road.
 
 490 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 In a second we were upon the spot, when the first sounds 
 which greeted me were the following, uttered in an accent 
 by no means new to me : — 
 
 " Oh, blessed Virgin ! Was n't it yourself that threw me 
 in the mud, or my nose was done for ? Shaugh, Shaugh, 
 my boy, since we are taken, tip them the blarney, and say 
 we 're generals of division ! " 
 
 I need not say with what a burst of laughter I received 
 this very original declaration. 
 
 "1 ought to know that laugh," cried a voice I at once 
 knew to be my friend O'Shaughnessy's. " Are you Charles 
 O'Malley, by any chance in life ? " 
 
 "The same, Major, and delighted to meet you; though, 
 faith, we were near giving you a rather warm reception. 
 What, in the Devil's name, did you represent, just now ? " 
 
 " Ask Maurice, there, bad luck to him. I wish the Devil 
 had him when he persuaded me into it." 
 
 " Introduce me to your friend," replied the other, rubbing 
 his shins as he spoke. " Mr. O'Mealey," — so he called me, 
 — "I think. Happy to meet you; my mother was a Ryan 
 of Killdooley, married to a first cousin of your father's 
 before she took Mr. Quill, my respected progenitor. I'm 
 Dr. Quill of the 48th, more commonly called Maurice Quill. 
 Tear and ages ! how sore my back is ! It was all the fault 
 of the baste, Mr, O'Mealey. We set out in search of you 
 this morning, to bring you back with us to Torrijos, but we 
 fell in with a very pleasant funeral at Barcaventer, and 
 joined them. They invited us, I may say, to spend the 
 day ; and a very jovial day it was. I was the chief mourner, 
 and carried a very big candle through the village, in con- 
 sideration of as fine a meat-pie, and as much lush as my 
 grief permitted me to indulge in afterwards. But, my dear 
 sir, when it was all finished, we found ourselves nine miles 
 from our quarters ; and as neither of us were in a very be- 
 fitting condition for pedestrian exercise, we stole one of the 
 leaders out of the hearse, — velvet, plumes, and all, — and 
 set off home. 
 
 " When we came upon your party we were not over clear 
 whether you were English, Portuguese, or French, and that 
 was the reason I called out to you, ' God save all here ! ' in
 
 THE OUTPOST. 491 
 
 Irish. Your polite answer was a shot, which struck the old 
 horse in the knee, and although we wheeled about in double- 
 quick, we never could get him out of his professional habits 
 on the road. He had a strong notion he was engaged in 
 another funeral, — as he was very likely to be, — and the devil 
 a bit faster than a dead march could we get him to, with all 
 our thrashing. Orderly time for men in a hurry, with a 
 whole platoon blazing away behind them ! But long life to 
 the cavalry, they never hit anything ! " 
 
 While he continued to run on in this manner, we reached 
 our watch-fire, when what was my surprise to discover, in 
 my newly-made acquaintance, the worthy doctor I had seen 
 a day or two before operating at the fountain at Talavera. 
 
 " Well, Mr. O'Mealey," said he, as he seated himself be- 
 fore the blaze, " What is the state of the larder ? Anything 
 savory, — anything drink-inspiring to be had ? " 
 
 " I fear, Doctor, my fare is of the very humblest ; still — " 
 
 " What are the fluids, Charley ? " cried the major ; " the 
 cruel performance I have been enacting on that cursed beast 
 has left me in a fever." 
 
 " This was a pigeon-pie, formerly," said Dr. Quill, inves- 
 tigating the ruined walls of a pasty; "and, — but come, 
 here 's a duck ; and if my nose deceive me not, a very toler- 
 able ham. Peter — Larry — Patsy — What's the name 
 of your familiar there ? " 
 
 " Mickey — Mickey Free." 
 
 " Mickey Free, then ; come here, avick ! Devise a little 
 drink, my son, — none of the weakest — no lemon — hot ! 
 You understand, hot ! That chap has an eye for punch ; 
 there 's no mistaking an Irish fellow, Nature has endowed 
 them richly, — fine features and a beautiful absorbent sys- 
 tem ! That 's the gift ! Just look at him, blowing up the 
 fire, — is n't he a pictiire ? Well, O'Mealey, I was fretting 
 that we had n't you up at Torrijos ; we were enjoying life 
 very respectably, — we established a little system of small 
 tithes upon fowl, sheep, pigs' heads, and wine skins that 
 throve remarkably for the time. Here 's the lush ! Put it 
 down there, Mickey, in the middle ; that 's right. Your 
 health, Shaugh. O'Mealey, here 's a troop to you ; and in 
 the mean time I '11 give you a chant : —
 
 492 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 * Come, ye jovial souls, don't over the bowl be sleeping, 
 Nor let the grog go round like a cripple creeping ; 
 If your care comes, up, in the liquor sink it. 
 Pass along the lush, I 'm the boy can drink it. 
 
 Is n't that so, Mrs. Mary Callaghan ? 
 
 Is n't that so, Mrs. Mary Callaghan ? ' 
 
 " Shaugh, my hearty, this begins to feel comfortable. 
 
 "Your man, O'Mealey, has a most judicious notion of 
 punch for a small party; and though one has prejudices 
 about a table, chairs, and that sort of thing, take my word 
 for it, it 's better than fighting the French, any day." 
 
 " Well, Charley, it certainly did look quite awkward 
 enough the other day towards three o'clock, when the Legion 
 fell back before that French column, and broke the Guards 
 behind them." 
 
 " Yes, you 're quite right ; but I think every one felt that 
 the confusion was but momentary, — the gallant Forty- 
 eighth was up in an instant." 
 
 " Faith, I can answer for their alacrity ! " said the doc- 
 tor ; " I was making my way to the rear with all convenient 
 despatch, when an aide-de-camp called out, — 
 
 " ' Cavalry coming ! Take care. Forty-eighth ! ' 
 
 " ' Left face, wheel ! Fall in there, fall in there ! ' I heard 
 on every side, and soon found myself standing in a square, 
 with Sir Arthur himself and Hill and the rest of them all 
 around me. 
 
 " ' Steady, men ! Steady, now ! ' said Hill, as he rode 
 around the ranks, while we saw an awful column of cuiras- 
 siers forming on the rising ground to our left. 
 
 " ' Here they come ! ' said Sir Arthur, as the French 
 came powdering along, making the very earth tremble 
 beneath them. 
 
 " My first thought was, ' The devils are mad, and they '11 
 ride down into us, before they know they 're kilt ! ' And 
 sure enough, smash into our first rank they pitched, sabring 
 and cutting all before them ; when at last the word * Fire ! ' 
 was given, and the whole head of the column broke like a 
 shell, and rolled horse over man on the earth. 
 
 " < Very well done ! very well, indeed ! ' said Sir Arthur,
 
 THE OUTPOST. 493 
 
 turning as coolly round to me as if he was asking for more 
 gravy. 
 
 " ' Mighty well done ! ' said I, in reply ; and resolving not 
 to be outdone in coolness, I pulled out my snuff-box and 
 offered him a pinch, saying, 'The real thing, Sir Arthur; 
 our own countryman, — blackguard.' 
 
 " He gave a little grim kind of a smile, took a pinch, and 
 then called out, — 
 
 '* ' Let Sherbroke advance ! ' while turning again towards 
 me, he said, ' Where are your people, Colonel ? ' 
 
 " * Colonel ! ' thought I ; ' is it possible he 's going to pro- 
 mote rae ? ' But before I could answer, he was talking to 
 another. Meanwhile Hill came up, and looking at me 
 steadily, burst out with, — 
 
 " ' Why the devil are you here, sir ? Why ain't you at 
 the rear ? ' 
 
 " ' Upon my conscience,' said I, ' that 's the very thing I 'm 
 puzzling myself about this minute ! But if you think it 's 
 pride in me, you 're greatly mistaken, for I 'd rather the 
 greatest scoundrel in Dublin was kicking me down Sackville 
 Street, than be here now ! ' 
 
 " You 'd think it was fun I was making, if you heard how 
 they all laughed. Hill and Cameron and the others louder 
 than any. 
 
 " ' Who is he ? ' said Sir Arthur, quickly. 
 
 " ' Dr. Quill, surgeon of the Thirty-third, where I ex- 
 changed, to be near my brother, sir, in the Thirty-fourth,' 
 
 " ' A doctor, — a surgeon ! That fellow a surgeon ! Damn 
 him, I took him for Colonel Grosvenor ! I say, Gordon, 
 these medical officers must be docked of their fine feathers, 
 there's no knowing them from the staff, — look to that in 
 the next general order.' 
 
 " And sure enough they left us bare and naked the next 
 morning ; and if the French sharpshooters pick us down 
 now, devil mend them for wasting powder, for if they look 
 in the orderly books, they '11 find their mistake." 
 
 " Ah, Maurice, Maurice ! " said Shaugh, with a sigh, 
 " you '11 never improve, — you '11 never improve ! " 
 
 " Why the devil would I ? " said he. " Ain't I at the top 
 of my profession — full surgeon — with nothing to expect,
 
 494 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 nothing to hope for ? Oh, if I had only remained in the 
 light company, what would n't I be now ? " 
 
 " Then you were not always a doctor ? " said I. 
 
 " Upon my conscience, I was n't," said he. " When 
 Shaugh knew me first, I was the Adonis of the Roscom- 
 mon militia, with more heiresses in my list than any man 
 in the regiment ; but Shaugh and myself were always 
 u.nlucky." 
 
 " Poor Mrs. Rogers ! " said the major, pathetically, drink- 
 ing off his glass and heaving a profound sigh. 
 
 " Ah, the darling ! " said the doctor. " If it was n't for a 
 jug of punch that lay on the hall table, our fortune in life 
 would be very different." 
 
 "True for you, Maurice ! " quoth O'Shaughnessy. 
 
 " I should like much to hear that story," said I, pushing 
 the jug briskly round. 
 
 " He '11 tell it you," said O'Shaughnessy, lighting his 
 cigar, and leaning pensively back against a tree, — " he '11 
 tell it you." 
 
 "I will, with pleasure," said Maurice. "Let Mr. Free, 
 meantime, amuse himself with the punch-bowl, and I '11 
 relate it." 
 
 END OP VOLUMK I. 
 
 University Press : John Wilson & Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.
 
 48^4- 
 
 no4 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 Goleta, California 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW. 
 
 AVAIL/^ 31 "^ "I^OIs 
 
 CIRCULATION AITLR 
 
 20m-8,'60(B2594s4)476
 
 O' J --^ 
 
 ' r.<L^ 
 
 oCM/i^ 
 
 3 1205 02087 9480 
 
 A A 001410 125 7
 
 liillii 
 
 i I 
 
 ii