\ -S 7, 
 
 ■HH 
 
 ;■ ■ 
 
 
 
 
 ajWBMJeW awm B n ii i 
 
 mmmmmmsm mm 
 
 
 '*■'••<•.: -' ' ' 
 
 - , f -*l>'i 
 
M. 
 
 te/ 
 
 
 
 &4fe^' 
 
 7 
 
 L6S8 
 c 
 
 / 1/£ 
 
iS^Ha 
 
 K^&XgKu 
 
 fHpP 
 
 ssiii 
 
 
 
 ffipfi&l 
 
 
 5^**|W 
 
 fe«S§K£li 
 
 W%g£&Si 
 
 Mw&gt$ 
 
 
 Ks^i 
 
 mm 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 n 
 
 
if I 
 
 "j 
 
 ) u 
 
CHARLES O'MALLEY, 
 
 THE IRISH DRAGOON 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES LEVER, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "HARRY LORKEQUER," ETC. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 
 PORTER & COATES. 
 
.#***■* T:^T rHtM * 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The success of Harry Lorrequer was the reason for writing 
 Charles O'Malley. That I myself was in nowise prepared for the 
 favor the public bestowed on my first attempt is easily enough 
 understood. The ease with which I strung my stories together — 
 and in reality the Confessions of Harry Lorrequer are little other 
 than a note-book of absurd and laughable incidents — led me to be- 
 lieve 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-con- 
 fused impression that Englishmen generally labored under a sad- 
 colored temperament, took depressing views of life, and were pro- 
 portionately grateful to any one who would rally them, even pass- 
 ingly, out of their despondency, and give them a laugh without 
 much trouble for going in search tof >t. - 
 
 When I set to work to wiite* Charles O'Malley, I was, as I have 
 ever been, very low with fortune, **.nd the "success" of a new venture 
 was pretty much as eventful 10 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 surpassed. The world had for me all the interest of 
 an admirable 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 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 Roy ale and the Boulevard 
 de Waterloo with very considerable success. There were dinners, balls, 
 
 (iii) 
 
 514909 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 dejeuners and picnics in the Bois de Cambre, excursions to Water- 
 loo, and select little parties to Bois-fort, a charming little resort in 
 the forest, whose intense 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 I next tried my voice. 
 
 The soldier element tinctured strongly our society, and I will say 
 most agreeably. Amongst 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 
 especially were they valuable to me, and with such good result that 
 I have been more than once complimented on the accuracy of my 
 description 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." atafryf wight form the staple of the 
 narrative — when this" question wa^s propounded me, I was ready to 
 reply, not one,,'^u^ '.fifty.' ' De liot mfata'ke'mp, and suppose that any 
 overweening confidence in my literary* po Vers would have embold- 
 ened me to make this reply ; my whole strength lay in the fact that 
 I could not recognize anything like literary effort in the' matter. If 
 the world would only condescend to read that which I wrote pre- 
 cisely as I was in the habit of talking, nothing could be easier for 
 me than to occupy them. Not alone was it very easy to me, but it 
 was intensely interesting and amusing 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 intoxica- 
 ting 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 campaigning incident, or some pas- 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 sage of arm3, from the narratives of two distinct and separate " eye- 
 witnesses." What mistrust I conceived for all eye-witnesses from 
 my own brief experience of their testimonies ! What an impulse 
 did it lend me to study the nature and the temperament of the nar- 
 rator, 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 separating, as 
 well as I might, the wheat from the chaff, I was in a measure train- 
 ing myself for what, without my then knowing it, was to become my 
 career in life. This was not, therefore, altogether without a certain 
 degree of labor, but so light and pleasant withal, so full of pictur- 
 esque peeps at character 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 charm- 
 ing souvenirs long after. 
 
 That certain traits of my acquaintances found themselves em- 
 bodied in some of the characters of this story, I do not seek to deny. 
 The principle of natural selection adapts 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 in- 
 feriority 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 unquestionable bravery. His powers as a story- 
 teller were to my way of thinking unrivalled ; the peculiar reflec- 
 tions on life which he would passingly introduce — the wise apo- 
 thegms — were after a morality so essentially of his own invention, 
 that he would indulge in the unsparing exhibition of himself in 
 situations such as other men would never have confessed to, all 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 blended up with a racy enjoyment of life, dashed occasionally with 
 sorrow that our tenure of it was short of patriarchal. 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, indeed, 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 
 Ostend 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 post to represent the mission, and 
 myself, making common cause of our desolation and ennui, spent 
 much of our time together, and dined tete-a-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 diplomatic 
 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 insen- 
 sible to the humoristic side of the Major's character, was not always 
 in the vein to enjoy it, and when so indisposed, he could invest the 
 object of his dislike with something little short of antipathy. 
 "Promise me," said he, as Monsoon came towards us, — "promise 
 me you'll not ask him to dinner." Before I could make any reply, 
 the Major was shaking a hand of each of us, and rapturously expa- 
 tiating 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 a mutton 
 chop together." 
 
 " We're behind our time, Major," said my friend; "sorry to leave 
 
PREFACE. Vil 
 
 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 by 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," &c, 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 pr6- 
 voked, that till the moment we reached my door he never uttered a 
 word, nor paid the slightest attention to Monsoon, who talked away 
 in a vein that occasionally made gravity all but impossible. 
 
 Our dinner proceeded drearily enough. The diplomatist's stiff- 
 ness never relaxed for a moment, and my own awkwardness damped 
 all my attempts at conversation. Not so, however, Morisoon ; 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 Luen- 
 tas which is always reserved for royalty. It was a pale wine, deli- 
 cious 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 a 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 between duty and 
 temptation, and the apologetic tone of 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 
 
VI li PREFACE. 
 
 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 you serious, Harry ?" asked he. " Is this on honor?" 
 
 " On honor, assuredly," I replied. 
 
 " 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, aye, and, if you like, every moral reflection that my expe- 
 riences 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. I'll draw out the treaty." 
 
 He did so at full length, on a sheet of that solemn blue tinted 
 paper so dedicated to dispatch purposes, — he duly set forth the con- 
 cession 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 any reason to express deep disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 This document, along with my university degree, my commission 
 in a militia regiment, and a vast amount of letters very interesting 
 to me, were seized by the Austrian authorities 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 resem- 
 blance to the great original from whom I copied him, I may mention 
 that he was speedily recognized in print by the Marquis of London- 
 derry, the well-known Sir Charles Stuart of the Peninsula 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 recon- 
 naissance in front of Victor's division ; and to avoid attracting any 
 notice, we covered over our uniform with two common gray over- 
 
PREFACE. ix 
 
 coats which reached to the feet, and effectually concealed our rank 
 as officers. Scarcely, however, had we topped a hill which com- 
 manded the view of the French, 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 mo- 
 mentary passion at the failure of my reconnaissance, I burst out 
 with some insolent allusion to the harlequin assembly which had 
 drawn the French lire 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 cate- 
 gorical 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 con- 
 duct, and we have been the best of friends ever since." 
 
 I myself had heard the incident before this from Monsoon, but 
 told amongst 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 one event very often served to puzzle me afterwards, when I 
 listened to stories in which the Major seemed a second Munchausen, 
 but might, like in this of the duel, have been amongst the truest and 
 most matter-of-fact of historians. May the reader be not less em- 
 barrassed than myself is my sincere, if not very courteous, 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 in- 
 stinct 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 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." 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 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 cham- 
 bers where I have located Charles O'Malley, in Old Trinity. He 
 was a man of the highest order of abilities, and with a memory that 
 never forgot, but was ruined and run to seed by the idleness that 
 came of a discursive, uncertain 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 devioes 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 Fenian- 
 ism, 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 amongst 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 a propos, and droller in illustra- 
 tion than my own Mickey. This fellow was "boots" at a great 
 hotel in Sackville street ; and I owe to 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 opinion 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 char- 
 acters, with an acuteness and correctness which made me very grate- 
 ful to know that his daily occupations were limited to blacking boots, 
 and not polishing off" authors. 
 
 I believe I have now done with my confessions, except I should 
 like to own that this story was the means of according me a more 
 heartfelt glow of satisfaction, a more gratifying 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 presenta- 
 
PREFACE. XI 
 
 tion to Woolwich. ; but seeing in my boy's nature certain traits of 
 nervousness and timidity, which induced me to hesitate on embark- 
 ing him in the career of a soldier, I became very unhappy and un- 
 certain 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. Seeing that this was no passing enthu- 
 siasm, but a decided and determined bent, I accepted the cadetship 
 for him, and his career has been not alone distinguished as a stu- 
 dent, but one which has marked him out for an almost hare-brained 
 courage, and for a dash and heroism that gave 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 unpardonable 
 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 associates 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, 
 
 CHAELES LEVEK. 
 
 Teieste, 1872. 
 
CONTENTS, VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 I.— Daly's Club House, 17 
 
 II.— The Escape, . . 21 
 
 III.— Mr. Blake, 26 
 
 IV.— The Hunt, 33 
 
 V.— The Drawing-Room, 39 
 
 VI.— The Dinner, . . 42 
 
 VIL— The Flight from Gurt-na-Morra, 51 
 
 VIII.— The Duel, • . . 58 
 
 IX.— The Return, 64 
 
 X.— The Election, 68 
 
 XL— An Adventure, 75 
 
 XII.— Mickey Free, 79 
 
 XIII.— The Journey; 89 
 
 XIV.— Dublin, 97 
 
 XV.— Captain Power, . 104 
 
 XVI.— The Vice-Provost, 114 
 
 X VIL— Trinity College— A Lecture, 118 
 
 XVIIL— The Invitation— The Wager, 124 
 
 XIX.— The Ball, 127 
 
 XX.— The Last Night in Trinity, . 139 
 
 XXL— The Phosnix Park, 147 
 
 XXIL— The Road, 154 
 
 XXIIL— Cork, 160 
 
 XXIV.— The Adjutant's Dinner, 165 
 
 XXV.— The Entanglement, 168 
 
 XXVL— The Preparation, 172 
 
 XXVIL— The Supper, 177 
 
 XXVIIL— The Voyage, 184 
 
 XXIX.— The Adjutant's Story— Life in Derry, .... 190 
 XXX.— Fred Power's Adventure in Philipstown, . . .198 
 
 XXXL— The Voyage, 207 
 
 XXXIL— Mr. Sparks's Story, 210 
 
 XXXIIL— The Skipper, 219 
 
 XXXIV.— The Land, 232 
 
 (xiii) 
 
xiv CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXXV.— Major Monsoon, 236 
 
 XXXVI.— The Landing, 244 
 
 XXXVII.— Lisbon, 253 
 
 XXXVIIL— The Rita Nuova, 258 
 
 XXXIX.— The Villa, 263 
 
 XL.— The Dinner, 266 
 
 XLL— The Route, 270 
 
 XLIL— The Farewell, 272 
 
 XLIIL— The March, 276 
 
 XLIV.— The Bivouac, 283 
 
 XLV— The Douro, 291 
 
 XLVI.— The Morning, 300 
 
 XLVIL— The Review, 303 
 
 XLVIIL— The Quarrel, 308 
 
 XLIX.— The Route, . 312 
 
 L.— The Watch-Fire, 315 
 
 LI.— The March, . . . - 322 
 
 LIL— The Page, 324 
 
 LIIL— Alvas, 330 
 
 LIV.— The Supper, 334 
 
 LV.— The Legion, 340 
 
 LVL— The Departure, . . . 342 
 
 LVIL— Cuesta, ' 350 
 
 LVIIL— The Letter, 352 
 
 LIX.— Major O'Shaughnessy, 355 
 
 LX.— Preliminaries, 358 
 
 LXL— All Right, 360 
 
 LXIL— The Duel, 362 
 
 LXIIL— News from Galway, 367 
 
 LXIV.— An Adventure with Sir Arthur, 373 
 
 LXV.— Talavera, • 375 
 
CONTENTS, VOL. II. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I.— Night after Talavera, 383 
 
 II.— The Outpost, 38$ 
 
 III.— The Doctor's Tale, 394 
 
 IV.— The Skirmish, 404 
 
 V.— The Lines of Ciudad Rodrigo, 410 
 
 VI.— The Doctor, 416 
 
 VII.— The Coa, 419 
 
 VIII.— The Night March, 426 
 
 IX.— The Journey, 430 
 
 X.— The Ghost, 436 
 
 XI.— Lisbon, 442 
 
 XII.— A Pleasant Predicament, 450 
 
 XIII.— The Dinner, 453 
 
 XIV.— The Letter, 457 
 
 XV.— The Villa, 463 
 
 XVI.— The Visit, 469 
 
 XVIL— The Confession, 473 
 
 XVIII.— My Charger, 479 
 
 XIX.— Maurice, 483 
 
 XX.— The Masquerade, 488 
 
 XXL— The Lines, 497 
 
 XXIL— The Eetreat of the French, 501 
 
 XXIIL— Patrick's Day in the Peninsula, 504 
 
 XXIV.— Fuentes d'Onoro, 519 
 
 XXV.— The Battle of Fuentes d'Onoro, 523 
 
 XXVL— A Rencontre, 532 
 
 XXVIL— Almeida, 537 
 
 XXVIIL— A Night on the Azava, 539 
 
 XXIX.— Mike's Mistake, 551 
 
 XXX.— Major Monsoon in Trouble, 558 
 
 XXXI.— The Confidence, 567 
 
 XXXIL— The Cantonment, 572 
 
 XXXIIL— Mickey Free's Adventure, 576 
 
 XXXIV.— The San Petro, 581 
 
 (XV) 
 
XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXXV.— The Count's Letter, 589 
 
 XXXVI.— The Trenches, 593 
 
 XXXVII.— The Storming op Ciudad Rodrigo, 598 
 
 XXXVIII.— The Rampart, 601 
 
 XXXIX.— The Despatch, 607 
 
 XL.— The Leave, 610 
 
 XLL— London, 618 
 
 XLIL— The Bell: at Bristol, ,623 
 
 XLIIL— Ireland, 631 
 
 XLIV.— The Return, 640 
 
 XLV.— Home, 644 
 
 XLVI. — An Old Acquaintance, 652 
 
 XLVII.— A Surprise, 659 
 
 XLVIIL— New Views, 669 
 
 XLIX.— A Recognition, 674 
 
 L.— A Mistake, 680 
 
 LI.— Brussels, 689 
 
 LIL— An Old Acquaintance, 698 
 
 LIIL— The Duchess of Richmond's Ball, * .706 
 
 LIV.— Quatre Bras, . • .717 
 
 LV.— Waterloo, - .733 
 
 LVI. — Brussels, » .748 
 
 LVIL— Conclusion, r . 754 
 
CHARLES O'MALLEY, 
 
 ®he Jrish 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 
 excellence 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 companion 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 scattered sheets of paper, upon 
 which he had written some 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 chuck- 
 ling, smothering laugh, which, whenever he indulged, not only 
 shook his own ample person, but generally created a petty earth- 
 2 (17) 
 
18 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 quake on every side of him. For the present, I shall not stop to 
 particularize him more closely; but when I add tfeat the person in 
 question was a well-known member of the Irish House of Com- 
 mons, whose acute undemanding arid' 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 
 anticipate 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 ex- 
 pression ; 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 eyebrow ; his upper lip was covered with a grizzly and 
 ill-trimmed moustache, 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 which a yellow ribbon 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 certajnly no beauty, but, somehow, 
 very few men of his day had a fancy for telling him so; a deadlier 
 hand and a steadier eye never covered 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 dampened 
 the ardor of an opposition member, by the very significant 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 flattery 
 was necessary at the time which called Godfrey O'Malley the hand- 
 somest 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." 
 
DAL Y'S CL UB HO USE. 19 
 
 " What 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 yester- 
 day."' 
 ' " 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 Kecovery of Small 
 Debts.' I'm sure, O'Malley, your last moments were not employed 
 in that manner." 
 
 " Come, now," said Sir Harry, " I'll set all to rights with a post- 
 script. ' Any one who questions the above statement, is politely 
 requested to call on Mr. Considine, 16 Kildare street, who will feej. 
 happy to afford him every satisfaction 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 am dead." 
 
 " But we'll wake you, and have a glorious funeral." 
 
 "And if any man doubt the statement, I'll call him out," said the 
 Count. 
 
 " Or, better still," said Sir Harry, " O'Malley has his action at 
 law for defamation." 
 
 " I see I'll never get down to Galway at this rate," said O'Malley ; 
 " and as the new election takes place on Tuesday 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 Considine, bal- 
 ancing the cork-screw 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'll have it 
 in Falkner's paper to-morrow ; on Friday the funeral can take place, 
 and, with the blessing o' God, I'll come to life on Saturday at Ath- 
 lone, in time to canvass the market." 
 
 " I think it wouldn'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." 
 
20 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " 1 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 confounded scrape. 
 Who knows if it is not a breach of privilege to report the death of 
 a member ? And to tell you the truth, I dread the Sergeant and the 
 Speaker's warrant with a very lively fear." 
 
 "Why, when did you make his acquaintance?" asked the 
 Count. 
 
 " Is it possible you never heard of Boyle's committal ?" said 
 O'Malley ; " you surely must have been abroad at the time ; but it's 
 not too late to tell it yet." 
 
 " Well, it's about two 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 ano- 
 ther call of the House, and supposing that the session was just over. 
 Among others, up came our friend 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, amid the loudest 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. 
 Amid all this poor Harry fell fast asleep, and dreamed that he was 
 once more in Exchequer street, presiding amongst 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 again looked around on every 
 side, wondering where was the hot water, and what had become of 
 the whisky bottle, and above all, why the company were so ex- 
 tremely dull and ungenial. 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 very pleasant compan- 
 ions — but I'll give you a chant to enliven you.' So saying, he 
 cleared his throat with a couple of short coughs, and at once struck 
 up, with the voice of a Stentor, the following verse of a popular 
 ballad:— 
 
THE ESCAPE. 21 
 
 " '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 I* 
 
 " 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 hurried over the benches by the Sergeant- 
 at-Arms, and left for three weeks in Newgate to practice 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'Malley, Esq., late mem- 
 ber for the county of Galway, which took place on Friday evening, 
 at Daly's Club House. This esteemed gentleman's family, one of 
 the oldest in Ireland, and among whom it was hereditary not to 
 have any children " ' 
 
 Here a burst of laughter from Considine and O'Malley interrupted 
 the reader, who with the greatest difficulty could be persuaded that 
 Jae was again bulling it. 
 
 " The devil fly away with it," said he ; " I'll never succeed." 
 
 " Never mind," said O'Malley ; " the first part will do admirably ; 
 and let us now turn our attention to other matters." 
 
 A fresh magnum was called for, and over its inspiring contents 
 all the details of the funeral were planned. As the clock struck 
 four, the party separated for the night, well satisfied with the result 
 of their labors. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE ESCAPE. 
 
 WHEN the dissolution of Parliament was announced the fol- 
 lowing morning in Dublin, its interest in certain circles was 
 manifestly increased by the fact that Godfrey O'Malley was 
 at last opeivto 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- 
 
22 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 posed to experience on the day that a breach is reported as practi- 
 cable, 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'Malley 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 mon- 
 arch, instead of merely being the member for Galway, the kingdom 
 over whose destinies he had been called to preside would have suf- 
 fered not a little 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 consideration, who will doubt 
 that every feasible expedient for securing him was resorted to? 
 While writs were struck against him in Dublin, emissaries were 
 despatched to the various surrounding counties to procure others in* 
 the event of his escape. Ne exeats were sworn, and water-bailiffs 
 engaged 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 
 twenty-four hours the late member would be enjoying his otium cum 
 dignitate in his Majesty's gaol of Newgate. 
 
 Expectation was at the highest — confidence hourly increasing — 
 success all but certain — when, in the midst of all this high-bounding 
 hope, the dreadful rumor spread that O'Malley was no more. One 
 had seen it just five minutes before in the evening edition of Falk- 
 ner's paper, another heard it in the courts, a third overheard the 
 Chief Justice stating it to the Master of the Eolls, 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 de- 
 scribe the consternation the intelligence caused on every side is 
 impossible ; nothing in history equals it, except, perhaps, the en- 
 trance of the French army into Moscow, deserted and forsaken by 
 its former inhabitants. While terror and dismay, therefore, spread 
 amid that wide and respectable body who formed O'Malley's cred- 
 itors, 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 announced that, in testimony of his worth, a large party 
 
THE ESCAPE. 23 
 
 of his friends were to accompany his remains to Portumna Abbey — 
 a test much more indicative of resistance in the event of any at- 
 tempt to arrest the body than of anything like reverence for their 
 departed friend. 
 
 Such was the state of matters in Dublin, when a letter reached 
 me one morning at O'Malle^ Castle, whose contents will at once 
 explain the writer's intention, and also serve to introduce my un- 
 worthy self to my reader. It ran thus : — 
 
 " Dear Charley : — Your uncle Godfrey, whose debts (God par- 
 don him) are more numerous than the hairs of his wig, was obliged 
 to die here last night. We did the thing for him completely ; and 
 all doubts as to the reality of the event are silenced by the circum- 
 stantial detail of the newspaper ' that he was confined six weeks to 
 his bed from a cold he caught, ten days ago, while on guard/ Ke- 
 peat this, for it's better we had all the same story till he comes to 
 life again, which, maybe, will not take place before Tuesday or 
 Wednesday. At the same time, canvass the county for him, and 
 say he'll 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 us in Athlone on Saturday, and bring your 
 uncle's mare with you — he says he'd rather ride home ; and tell 
 Father M'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. 
 
 " Daly's, about eight in the evening. 
 " To Charles O'Maixey, Esq., 
 O'Malley 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 Gal- 
 way, bordering on the Shannon. On every side stretched the prop- 
 erty 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 fertile, pre- 
 sented 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, expanding into a 
 tranquil and glassy lake, lay still and motionless beneath the dark 
 
24 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 mountains — a few islands, with some ruined churches and a round 
 tower, alone freaking the dreary waste of water. 
 
 Here it was that I had 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 my wor- 
 thy 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 hospitality for which Ireland in general, and 
 Galway more especially, 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 of 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 resolved 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 character — viz., 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 Kilaloe to Banagher. These were the staple of my endow- 
 ments. Besides which, the parish priest had taught me a little 
 Latin, a little French, and a little geometry, and a great deal of 
 the life and opinions of St. 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 inconsiderable 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 com- 
 pletely bewildered me, that but for the assistance of Father Roach, I 
 should have been totally unable to make out the writer's intentions. 
 By his advice, I immediately set out for Athlone, where, when I 
 arrived, I found my uncle addressing the mob from the top of the 
 
THE ESCAPE. 25 
 
 hearse, and recounting his miraculous escape 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'll die first/ 
 said I. * Galway or nothing !' " "Hurrah I" from the mob. "O'Mal- 
 ley forever I" "And ye see, I kept my word, boys — I did die ; I died 
 that evening at a quarter-past eight. There, read it for yourselves ; 
 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 carried 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 M'Shane resided. He was" 
 then suffered to touch the earth once more, when, having shaken 
 hands with all his constituency within reach, ne 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 popularity 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 ! Nabock- 
 lish — catch a weasel asleep," &c. 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 Howard, — had he united 
 in his person all the attributes which confer a lasting and an en- 
 nobling 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 
 approbation. The success of the exploit was twofold; the news 
 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 feeling. O'Malley Castle 
 was to be the centre of operations, and filled with my uncle's sup- 
 porters ; while I, a mere stripling, and usually treated as a boy, 
 was to be entrusted with an important mission, and sent off to can- 
 vass a distant relation, 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. 
 
26 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MR. BLAKE. 
 
 NOTHING but the exigency of the case could ever have per- 
 suaded my uncle to stoop to the humiliation of canvassing the 
 individual to whom I was now about to proceed as envoy ex- 
 traordinary, with full powers to make any or every amende, provided 
 only his interest and that of his followers 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 difficulties 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 im- 
 proved 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 ; " he has four of them, each more sinfully ugly than 
 the other." 
 
 " You'll be playing whist, too," said Boyle ; " 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 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 negligent 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 daugh- 
 ters were after his own heart, — the best-tempered, least-educated, 
 
MR. BLAKE. 27 
 
 most high-spirited, gay, dashing, ugly girls in the country, — 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 con- 
 demned to Galway. 
 
 The mamma was only remarkable for her liking for whist, and 
 her invariable good fortune thereat — a circumstance 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, pro- L 
 viding 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. Mat- 
 thew 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 appearance of his 
 house and grounds betrayed anything rather than a sufficiency of 
 means. The gate lodge was a miserable 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 planta- 
 tion, which had been planted and fenced with care, were now 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 cen- 
 tury old, displayed 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 clay it lay pensively open ; 
 the steps which led to it were broken and falling, and the whole 
 aspect of things without was ruinous in the extreme. Within, mat- 
 ters 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 despised 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 
 
28 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 years, and his father before him, and here, with a retinue of servants 
 as gauche 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 
 Misses Blake having 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 last news from Ballinasloe in 
 one corner, the dandy from St. James's street might be seen dis- 
 playing more arts of seductive flattery in another than his most 
 accurate insouciance would permit him to practise in the elegant 
 saloons of London or Paris : and the same man who would have 
 " cut his brother," for a solecism of dress or equipage, in Bond 
 street, was now to be seen quietly domesticated, eating family din- 
 ners, 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. 
 
 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 sum- 
 mer, that I whipped my leader short round, and entered the pre- 
 cincts 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 great- 
 est difficulty, I recognized 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 circumstances 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 century. How much 
 longer I might have gone on conjecturing the reasons for the mas- 
 
MB. BLAKE. 29 
 
 querade 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. 
 
 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 Dash wood, a tall and singu- 
 larly handsome man of about fifty, with an undress military frock 
 and ribbon. His reception of me was somewhat strange, for, as 
 they mentioned my relationship to Godfrey 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 richness, 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 contributed 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 g6ne which only very young girls pos- 
 sess, 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 wondrous 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 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 my place at the table, I eagerly 
 sought his eye, to return him a look of defiance and disdain, proud 
 
30 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 and contemptuous as his own. Captain Hammersley, however, took 
 no further 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 particularly, — and how easy is it, 
 when you have begun by disliking 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, ins 
 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 auditory, for 
 their admiration of the army extended from the Life Guards to the 
 Veteran Battalion, the Sappers and Miners included ; and as Miss 
 Dashwood was the daughter of a soldier, she, of course, coincided 
 in many if not all of 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 
 heard his marvels with 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 Pashwood 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 in- 
 formant'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. 
 
 " 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 
 sent my heart a-throbbing ; and I hastened from the room to des- 
 patch a messenger to the huntsman to come over to Gurt-na-Morra, 
 
MR. BLAKE. 31 
 
 and also another to O'Malley Castle, to bring my best horse and my 
 riding equipments as quickly as possible. 
 
 " Matthew, who is this Captain V said I, as young Blake met me 
 in the hall. 
 
 "Oh! he is the aide-de-camp of General Dashwood. A nice 
 fellow, isn'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 appearance 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 impossible ; 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 accom- 
 panied Matthew to the stable to look after the cattle, and make pre- 
 parations for the coming sport. 
 
 "There's Captain Hammersley's mare," said Matthew, as he 
 pointed to 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." 
 
 "What is his regiment?" said I, with an appearance of careless- 
 ness, but in reality feeling curious to know if the Captain was a 
 cavalry or infantry officer. 
 
 "The — th Light Dragoons," said Matthew. 
 
 " You never saw him ride ?" said I. 
 
 " 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'll teach him." 
 
 " That we will," said I, with as bitter a resolution to impart 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'll draw that cover first." 
 
32 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 So saying, he turned towards the stable, while I sauntered 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 yet I have my own reasons for 
 it" 
 
 " Well, maybe you have ; what cover will your honor try first?" 
 
 " They talk of the Mill," said I ; " but I'd much rather try 'Mor- 
 ran-a-Gowl.' " 
 
 " Morran-a-Gowl ! Do you want to break your neck entirely ?" 
 
 " No, Brackely, not mine." 
 
 " Whose then, alannah ?" 
 
 "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'll try it this morning with the 
 blessing ; I'll take him down by Woodford, over the ' Devil's Mouth/ 
 — it's eighteen feet wide this minute with the late rains — into the 
 four callows ; then over the stone walls, down to Dangan ; then take 
 a short cut 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 distressing thing for the horse that 
 follows, more particularly if he does not understand a stony coun- 
 try. 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 Mr. 
 Malone broke his neck at it, last October, yet, upon an occasion like 
 this, and for the honor of Galway " 
 
 " To be sure, Brackely, and here's a guinea for you, and now trot 
 on towards the house ; they must not see us together, 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 doesn't know; there is nothing so bad west 
 of Athlone ; have ye a great spite agin him ?" 
 
 " I have," said I, fiercely. 
 
 " Could ye coax a fight out of him?" 
 
THE HUNT. 33 
 
 " 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. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE HUNT. 
 
 ALTHOUGH we had not the advantages of a " southerly wind 
 and cloudy sky," the day, towards noon, became strongly 
 overcast, 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 Dashwood with a quiet and well-trained horse, 
 and his sisters were all mounted, as usual, upon their own animals, 
 giving to our turn-out quite a gay and lively aspect. I myself came 
 to cover upon a hackney, having sent Badger with a groom, and 
 longed ardently for the moment when, casting the skin of my great- 
 coat and overalls, I should appear before the world in my well-ap- 
 pointed " 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 Dashwood 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 Dash- 
 wood, 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 advances, crosses the cover nearly midway. Well, 
 they must clear that ; and then you may see these walls of large 
 loose stones, nearly five feet in height ; that is the usual course the 
 fox takes, unless he heads towards the hills, and goes towards Dan- 
 gan, 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 
 3 
 
34 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 yonder, who has tried his fortune against drowning more than once 
 there." M 
 
 " Look, here he comes," said Matthew Blake, " and looking splen- 
 didly too — a little too much in flesh, perhaps, if anything." 
 
 " Captain Hammersley !" said the four Misses Blake, 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 many similar 
 ones, cannot help acknowledging how purely is the self-possession 
 which so often wins success the result of some light and trivial asso- 
 ciation. My confidence in my horsemanship suggested moral cour- 
 age 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 two and very dissimilar individuals. 
 
 " No chance of the Captain," said Matthew, who had returned 
 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 
 militaire, 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 naivete— & wish to please, with a certain feminine gen- 
 tleness, that always flatters a man, and still jnore 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 inrtant in the midst of us. 
 
THE HUNT. 35 
 
 " 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 gentleman rider ; 
 indeed, although a very heavy man, his powerful English thorough- 
 bred, showing not less bone than blood, took away all semblance of 
 overweight; his saddle, well fitting and well placed; 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 hunt- 
 ing-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, ex- 
 pressed some surprise, but no regret, at hearing that he was late, 
 and never deigning any notice of Matthew or myself, took hi* 
 place beside Miss Dashwood, with whom he conversed in a low 
 and under tone. 
 
 " There they go," said Matthew, as five or six dogs, with their 
 heads up, ran yelping along a furrow, then stopped, howled agajn, 
 and once more set off together. In an instant 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 following 
 up the leading dogs with the rest of the pack. " They've found ! — 
 they're away !" said Matthew ; and as he spoke, a great yell burst 
 from the valley, and in an instant the whole pack were off at full 
 speed. Rather more intent at that moment upon showing off my 
 horsemanship than anything else, I dashed spurs into Badger's sides, 
 and turned him towards a rasping ditch before 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 clear- 
 ing it at a bound. Before I was well seated again, the Captain was 
 beside me. " Now 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 fol- 
 low 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 there- 
 fore struck me that, by appearing to take a short cut upon the 
 hounds, I should come down upon the river where its breadth was 
 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 in- 
 creasing, till the roar of the river we were now approaching was 
 plainly audible. I looked half around, and now perceived the Cap- 
 tain was standing in his stirrups, as if to obtain a view of what was 
 
3G CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 firm 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 water dashing among the large stones, 
 I heard its 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 all 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 now, there he was, actually a 
 length and a half in advance ! Worse than all, Miss Dashwood 
 must have witnessed the whole, and doubtless his leap over the river 
 wag 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 to- 
 gether. " Ha !" thought I, " he is floored at last/' as I perceived 
 that the Captain held his horse 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, gal- 
 loping 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 baulked, 
 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 
 
THE BUNT. 37 
 
 leaps exactly at 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 hill-side, and 
 made for Dangan. " Now, then, comes the trial of strength," I 
 said, half-aloud, as I threw my eye up a steep and rugged mountain, 
 covered with wild furze and tall heath, around the crest of which 
 ran, in a zig-zag 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 favor- 
 able ground have been a bold leap. Here, at the summit of a 
 mountain, with not a yard of- footing, it was absolutely despera- 
 tion. 
 
 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 gal- 
 lant 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, was the Captain, as he took the wall in a flying leap, and dis- 
 appeared 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 riding 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 flick- 
 ering memory of some plan of vengeance, which still urged me 
 
38 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 huntsman 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'll 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 remonstrances. 
 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 hundred 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 suc- 
 ceeded 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 would 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 passion, 
 " Come on !" I saw no more. All objects were lost to me from 
 that moment. When next my senses cleared, I was standing amid 
 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 
 
THE BRA WING-BOOM. 39 
 
 from my stupor ; I looked back. I saw a crowd that broke sud- 
 denly 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 morn- 
 ing, 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 fourth 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 totter- 
 ing 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 Dashwood ? — 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 paper, 
 resolved upon learning how matters were going on in the political 
 world. But, somehow, whether the editor was not brilliant, or the 
 fire was 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 when called into exist- 
 ence 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 dreary 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 unutter- 
 able 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 sun at evening fell upon her 
 beautiful hair, and tinged it with such a light as I have often since 
 
40 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 the curls from her brow, she 
 preluded a few chords, and then sighed forth, rather than sung, 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 feeling, 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 shoul- 
 der, 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 sud- 
 denly 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 ; 
 u : 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." 
 
 " Then, shall we chat 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 unspeak- 
 able names, have declared for us, and confidence is rapidly increas- 
 ing 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 govern- 
 ment were about to send down some one just as I left home, and I 
 am most anxious to learn who it is." 
 
THE BRA WING-ROOM. 41 
 
 " 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 gal- 
 lantly. " 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 misfor- 
 tune had been a thing of his contrivance, and whether he was 
 ready to explain his conduct about it ; and, in fact, I believe he is 
 mad." 
 
 " Heaven confound him I" I muttered between my teeth. 
 
 "And then he wished to have an interview with Captain Ham- 
 mersley ; 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 wait." 
 
 " Oh, then, do tell me how the Captain is." 
 
 " 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 share I 
 might have had in the catastrophe ; and my greatest regret, I con- 
 fess, arises from the fact that I should cause you unhappiness." 
 
 "Me — pray explain ?" 
 
 " Why, as Captain Hammersley " 
 
 " Mr. O'Malley, you are too young now to make me suspect 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 lamentably her junior in tact and 
 discretion. 
 
 The gray dusk of evening had long fallen as we continued 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 battle-field. 
 
 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, 
 
42 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " and, if so, I must advise you to take better care of your head- 
 piece." 
 
 "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 and affection. 
 
 That word sealed my destiny. 
 
 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 which he 
 informed me the messenger expected an answer. 
 I broke the seal and read : 
 
 "Dear 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 coronetcy 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 private quarrel before the day ; if he 
 succeed, 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 persuade old Blake to write a few lines to Simon Mallock 
 about the Coolnamuck mortgage. We can give him no satisfaction 
 at present, at least such as he looks for ; and don't be philandering 
 any longer where you are, when your health permits a change of 
 quarters. 
 
 "Your affectionate 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 
 
THE DINNER. 43 
 
 not the candidate, but a tourist that was writing a book about 
 Connemara. 
 
 "P.S. No. 2. — Bear the mortgage in mind, 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 pre- 
 cise conception how completely I had forgotten all 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 was 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 displayed in the plenitude and 
 breadth of coloring we find in a Rubens. " 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 economy of Mr. Blake's 
 household was conducted, I would have gladly retired from what I 
 found to be a mutual territory of dressing-room, had not Mr. Blake's 
 injunctions 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 majority 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 male 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 moment 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'll do what you can 
 there." 
 
 "Anything more?" said Mr. Blake, with a very dry and quizzical 
 expression I didn't half like — "anything more?" 
 
 44 Oh, yes, you are to write a line to old Mallock." 
 
44 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " I understand ; about Coolnamuck, isn't it ?" 
 
 " Exactly ; I believe that's all." 
 
 " Well now, Charley, you may go down stairs, and we'll 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 couldn'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 sake, I should defer my de- 
 parture 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 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 affec- 
 tionately 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 acquaintances ; 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 fre- 
 quent 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, caused 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 hostess appeared. Mrs. Blake advanced in all 
 the plenitude of her charms, arrayed in crimson satin, sorely injured 
 in its freshness by a patch of grease upon the front, about the same 
 
TEE DINNER. 45 
 
 size and shape as the continent of Europe in Arrowsmith's Atlas ; 
 a swansdown tippet covered her shoulders ! massive bracelets orna- 
 mented her wrists ; while from her ears descended two Irish diamond 
 ear-rings, rivalling 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 around upon the 
 company, she appeared the very impersonation of hospitality. 
 
 After several openings and shuttings of the drawing-room door, 
 accompanied by the appearance of old Simon the butler, who 
 counted the party at least five times before he was certain that the 
 score was correct, dinner was at length announced. Now came a 
 moment of difficulty, and one which, as testing Mr. Blake's tact, he 
 would gladly have seen devolve 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. Mosey Blake's first husband was promised the title of 
 Kilmacud if it was ever restored, whereas Mrs. French of Knock- 
 tumnor'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 pros- 
 pects, the lord was alive ; and Mr. Blake, remembering a very sage 
 adage about " dead lions," &c, solved the difficulty 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. 
 
 When, 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 sensation : a turbot as big as the Waterloo 
 shield — a sirloin that seemed cut from the sides of a rhinoceros — a 
 sauce-boat that contained an oyster-bed. There was a turkey which 
 singly would have formed the main army of a French dinner, 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 d la maitre tfhotel 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 proudly up like standard-bearers amid the goodly array. This 
 was none of your austere "great dinners," where a cold and chilling 
 
40 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 plateau of artificial nonsense cuts off one-half of the table from in- 
 tercourse 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 lacquey — where smiles go 
 current in lieu of kind speeches, and epigram and smartness 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 heartily. 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 was 
 passing around reached me, giving to the conversation of the party 
 a character occasionally somewhat incongruous. Thus such sen- 
 tences as the following ran foul of each other every instant : 
 
 " No better land in Galway" — " where could you find such facili- 
 ties" — " for shooting Mr. Jones on his way home" — " the truth, the 
 whole truth, and nothing but the truth" — " kiss" — " Miss Blake, 
 she's the girl with the foot and ankle" — " Daly has never had wool 
 on his sheep" — " how could he" — " what does he pay for the moun- 
 tain" — " 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 in- 
 stead 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" — V 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 rites of the Church, 
 of coorse," said Father Eoach, bringing up the rear of this ill-as- 
 sorted jargon. 
 
 Such were the scattered links of conversation I was 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'll 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 general, who acceded to 
 the fact, which he understood in a very different sense. 
 
 " Oh, punch, you are my darlin'," hummed another, as a large 
 
THE DINNER. 47 
 
 square half-gallon decanter of whisky was placed on the table, the 
 various decanters of wine being now ignominiously sent down to 
 the end of the board, without any evidence of regret on any face 
 save Sir George Dash wood'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 was discussing 
 the approaching contest, another was planning a steeple-chase ; 
 while two individuals, unhappily 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 breastpin was swopped, as the phrase is, 
 against a horse ; then a pair of boots, a Kerry bull, &c. — every 
 imaginable species of property coming into the market. Sometimes, 
 as matters 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 proficient, and, it is said, once so 
 completely succeeded in despoiling an uninitiated hand, that after 
 winning in succession his horse, gig, harness, &c, he proceeded 
 seriatim to his watch, ring, clothes, and portmanteau, and actually 
 concluded by winning all he possessed, and kindly lent him a card- 
 cloth to cover him on his way to the hotel. His success on the 
 present occasion was considerable, and his spirits proportionate. 
 The decanter had thrice been replenished, and the flushed faces and 
 thickened utterances of the guests evinced that from the cold prop- 
 erties of the claret there was but little to dread. As for Mr. Bodkin, 
 his manner was incapable of any higher flight, when under the in- 
 fluence of whisky, 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 excel- 
 lencies 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 maybe the general 
 would learn more from it than all your speech-making." 
 
 " To be sure," cried out 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 
 
48 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 air which Moore has since rendered immortal, by the beautiful 
 song, " Wreathe the Bowl," &c. 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, &c. 
 
 "The King of Oude 
 Is mighty proud, 
 
 And so were onst the Caysars — (Caesars) 
 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 Galway.' 
 
 " Chorus— With debts, &c. 
 
 "Ye think the Blakes 
 Are no ' great shakes ;' 
 
 They're all his blood relations, 
 And the Bodkins sneeze 
 At the grim Chinese, 
 
 For they came 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," &c. 
 
 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 was a 
 confident one. This was gratifying to me, as I had some scruple 
 about my so long neglecting my uncle's cause. 
 
THE DINNER. 49 
 
 " 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'll vote, every 
 mother's son of them, or devil a stone of the Court-house they'll 
 leave standing on another." 
 
 "And may the Lord look to the returning officer !" said a third, 
 throwing up his eyes. 
 
 " Mosey's tenantry are droll boys, and, like their landlord — more 
 by token — they never pay any rent." 
 
 "And what for shouldn'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 from 
 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, maybe, what that is," said some 
 one. 
 
 " It is the dead agent," said 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 wil- 
 ling 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 individuals 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 — whisky was in the ascendant, and 
 every bold stroke of election 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 Miles 
 Bodkin, who had twice before been prevented proposing some toast 
 by a telegraphic signal from the other 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 : 
 4 
 
50 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " No, no, Phil Blake, ye needn't be winkiri' 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 hear- 
 tily 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, in- 
 trepid 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 doesn'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'll 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. Amid 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 amid 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" — "Confound the boy" — 
 " Knock the legs from under him," &c. 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 that the young gentleman moves an amendment to your 
 proposition ; and, as the etiquette is in his favor, I yield." Here he 
 resumed his place, amid a most terrific scene of 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 laugh- 
 ing as I never before listened to ; from one end of the board to the 
 other it was one continued 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 par- 
 
THE FLIGHT FROM GURT-NA-MORRA. 51 
 
 tieipate 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 per- 
 ception of my wishes, most suddenly ceased his mirth, and assuming 
 a look of frowning 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'll 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'll carry him in against all the O'Malleys 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 eifusion. The scene 
 now became 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. Amid 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 revulsions 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 col- 
 lected ; and, stranger than all, I, who had only an hour since en- 
 tered the dining-room with all the unsuspecting freshness of boyhood, 
 became, by a mighty bound, a man — a man in all my feelings and 
 responsibility, a man who, repelling an insult 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 fear- 
 lessness and youth impart was replaced by one absorbing thought — ■ 
 
02 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 destined 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 first thought ; but how to 
 accomplish it? The door, a solid one of Irish oak, doubly locked 
 and bolted, defied all my efforts 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 in vain. Weary and 
 exhausted, I sat down upon my bed and ruminated over my for- 
 tunes. Vengeance — quick, entire, 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. I 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 down to within 
 about twelve feet of the ground, when I let go my hold, and dropped 
 upon the grass beneath, 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, resolving, 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 below stairs ; and I met no one 
 in the way. I entered the stable, threw the saddle upon Badger, and 
 before five minutes from my descent from the window, was gallop- 
 ing 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 defile 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 
 necessary, even at night — and gently groped my way towards the 
 stairs. All was perfectly still, and the silence now recalled me to 
 reflection as to what course I should pursue. It was all-important 
 
THE FLIGHT FROM GURT-NA-MORRA. b'6 
 
 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 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, 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 entered ; and though my step was almost imperceptible to my- 
 self, it was quite sufficient to alarm the watchful occupant of the 
 room, who, springing up in his bed, demanded gruffly "Who's 
 there ?" 
 
 " Charles, sir," said I, shutting the door carefully, and approach- 
 ing 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 scrape, 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 that 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 chap- 
 ter, as well as his frequent interruptions would permit, and con- 
 cluded by asking what further 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 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 of voice, 
 "throwing a wine-glass, with or without wine, in a man's face, is 
 merely, as you may observe, a mark of denial and displeasure at 
 some observation he may have made, not in anywise intended to 
 
54 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 injure him, further than in the wound to his honor at being so in- 
 sulted, 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 warranting a blow. Therefore, 
 my boy, you should, under such circumstances, have preferred aim- 
 ing at him with a decanter — 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 saying, he 
 arose from his bed, and striking a light with a tinder-box, pro- 
 ceeded 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 ; put them up at the little inn — it is not above a mile from 
 Bodkin's — and I'll go over and settle the thing for you. You must 
 stay quiet until I come back, and not leave the house on any ac- 
 count. 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 per- 
 formance. 
 
 " I don't care sixpence for that : the wine-glass had no 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 toilette, and, taking 
 the small mahogany 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 was a kind of half-witted boy, 
 who, being about the house, was employed to run messages for 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 monotonous 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 com- 
 panion, from whom his eyes were turned to the bra,s.s-bound box 
 
THE FLIGHT FROM GURT-NA-MORRA. 55 
 
 beneath his arm. Then, 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, you villain, or I'll 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'll 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 backward and forward, a true picture of Irish grief. 
 " I'll stop this 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'll 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 com- 
 pletely, that we burst out into a hearty fit of laughing. 
 
 " 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 uttered when Considine seized him by 
 the collar with one hand, and by the wrist with the other, and car- 
 ried 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'll 
 break every bone in your body"— a threat that seemed certainly 
 considerably increased 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 few minutes sufficed us now to harness the mare in the tax- 
 cart, and when all was ready, Considine seized the whip, and lock- 
 ing 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 col- 
 lar, flung him at my feet in the tax-cart. 
 
f)G CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 We had already lost some time, and the roan mare was put to her 
 fastest speed to make up for it. Our pace became, 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 anything out of the chaotic mass — love, mischief, and mis- 
 fortune — 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 
 mountain 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 pros- 
 trate and doubly-knotted figure at our feet ; " lend a hand, Patsey." 
 Much to my astonishment, he obeyed the summons with alacrity, 
 and proceeded to unharness the mare with the greatest despatch. 
 My attention was, however, 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 governor 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 doesn't play us a trick — the short way to Mr. 
 Bodkin's is through Scariff— ay, I know it well, good-bye, Charley — 
 by the Lord, we'll 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 reflec- 
 tions. 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 oc- 
 curred. 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 Mr. Blake's table; and, 
 
THE FLIGHT FROM GURT-NA-MORRA. 57 
 
 above all, what Miss Dashwood herself would think, and what nar- 
 rative 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 bumpkin as those 
 whom I had so lately been carefully endeavoring 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 gentle- 
 manly manner would have done fully as much to wipe out an insult 
 on his honor as I could do, and, after ail, would neither have dis- 
 turbed the harmony of a dinner-table nor made himself,'' as I shud- 
 dered 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 would 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 in- 
 quired ; but no one could tell. He had disappeared shortly after 
 our arrival, and had not been seen afterwards. My own thoughts 
 were, however, too engrossing 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 proceeded to harness the 
 roan with the greatest haste, informing me in broken sentences, as 
 he went on, of 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 — didn't say that, though — a sweet meadow, I know it 
 well; small hillocks, like molehills, all over it — caught him at 
 breakfast ; I don't think he expected the message to come from 
 us, but said that it was a very polite attention, and so it was, you 
 know." 
 
58 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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." 
 
 " Right, my boy ; nothing like that, but I'll settle all for you. 
 Upon my conscience, if it wasn't for the chance of his getting into 
 another quarrel and spoiling the election, 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 Callag- 
 han, 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's 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 over night, 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. 
 
 THE boatmen having pulled in towards the shore, we saw, 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'll 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 discerned some- 
 
THE DUEL. 59 
 
 thing 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 difficuly 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 acquaintance, 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, 
 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, talking and laughing away in great 
 spirits. As the tone they spoke in was none 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 which happened then. 
 
 " Poor devil," said Bodkin, " it wasn'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 eyes wandered all about, and his mouth 
 was constantly twitching. ' Take off your greatcoat, 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 filled up. ' I have you now,' said 
 I to myself, and I shot him through the lungs." 
 
 "And this poor fellow," thought I, " was the only son of a wid- 
 owed mother." I walked from the spot to avoid hearing further, 
 
60 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 field — "take your ground, gentlemen." 
 
 Considine took my arm and walked forward. " Charley," said he, 
 " I am to give the signal ; I'll drop my glove when you are to fire, 
 but don't look at me at all. I'll 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 bet- 
 ter," said some one. 
 
 " So it is," said Bodkin ; " but it might 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 us escaping. 
 
 " Now, then," said the Count, " I'll 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. Notwithstanding 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 
 toward my opponent, I raised my pistol and fired. My hat turned 
 half round on 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 
 surface of the broad Shannon, before I could well collect my scat- 
 tered faculties to remember all that was passing, as Considine, 
 pointing to the two bullet holes in my hat, remarked, " Sharp prac- 
 tice, 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 the fool 
 keeps poking about for the ball. But now let's think of the next 
 step ; you'll 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. 
 
THE DUEL. 61 
 
 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 enacting there must have been quite beyond their view. While 
 I was wondering at this, Considine cried out suddenly, " Too infa- 
 mous, 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 people 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 accu- 
 sation and my doom. I knew well — none better — the vengeful 
 character of the Irish peasant 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, as if in- 
 stinctively, lay upon their oars, and waited for our decision as to 
 what course to pursue. 
 
 " Rig the spritsail, my boys," said Considine, " and let her head 
 lie up the river, and be alive, for I see they're hauling a boat below 
 the little reef there, and will be after us in no time." 
 
 The poor fellows, who, although strangers to us, sympathized 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, meanwhile, 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 gunwale through the white foam. 
 
 " Where can we make without tacking, boys ?" inquired the Count. 
 
 " If it blows on as fresh, sir, we'll run you ashore within half a 
 mile of the castle." 
 
62 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "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 suddenly from the 
 shore, with six sturdy fellows pulling at the oars, while three or 
 four others were endeavoring to get up the rigging, which ap- 
 peared tangled and confused at the bottom of the boat ; the white 
 splash of water, which fell each moment beside her, showed that 
 the process of bailing was still continued. 
 
 "Ah, then, may I never— -av it isn'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 didn'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 used to it. 
 Look how they'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, your honor," said the elder ; " w r e'll be only break- 
 ing our hearts to no purpose; they're sure to catch us." 
 
 " Do as I bid you, at all events. What's that ahead of us 
 there ?" 
 
 " The Oat Kock, sir. A vessel with grain struck there, and went 
 down with all aboard, four years last winter. 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'll 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 understand 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 
 
THE DUEL. 63 
 
 one ; lie saw that in sailing we were greatly over-matched, and that 
 our only chance lay in reaching the narrow and dangerous channel 
 between the 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 mis- 
 chief 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 impossible ; but who would not have pre- 
 ferred even so slender a chance with so frightful an alternative be- 
 hind him ! As if to add terror to the scene, Considine had scarcely 
 turned the boat ahead of the channel when a tremendous blackness 
 spread over all around ; the thunder pealed forth, and, amid the 
 crashing of the hail and the bright glare of lightning, a squall struck 
 us, and laid us nearly keel uppermost for several minutes. I well 
 remember we rushed through the dark and blackening water, our 
 little craft more than half filled, the oars floating off to leeward, and 
 we ourselves kneeling on the bottom planks for safety. Eoll 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 wan 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 knit, 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 amid 
 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 bent 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. Mean- 
 while, 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." God! the agony of that moment — the heart- 
 felt and accusing conscience that I was judged and doomed — that 
 the brand of Cain was upon my brow — that my fellow-men had 
 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 Con- 
 
64 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 sidine, who alone among us seemed not to lose his presence of mind, 
 cut away the mast, and sent it overboard. The storm now began 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 which 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, and 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 had 
 a brush for it." In a minute more we reached the land, and 
 drawing our gallant little craft on shore, set out for O'Malley 
 Castle. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 O'MALLEY Castle lay about four miles from the spot we 
 landed at, and thither accordingly we bent our steps without 
 loss of time. We had not, however, proceeded far, when, 
 before us on the road, we perceived a mixed assemblage of horse 
 and foot, hurrying along at a tremendous rate. The mob, which 
 consisted of some hundred courrtry 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 for- 
 midable enough to make us call a halt, and deliberate upon what we 
 were to do. 
 
 "They've outflanked us, Charley," said Considine; "however, 
 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 In- 
 dians. In the front ran a bare-legged boy, waving his cap to en- 
 courage the rest, who followed him about fifty yards behind. 
 
 " Leave that fellow for me," said the Count, coolly examining the 
 lock of his pistol ; " I'll 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 is on a large horse — now he's 
 pressing forward, so let — no — oh — ay — it's Godfrey O'Malley him- 
 
THE RETURN. 65 
 
 self, 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, sprung from their horses and ran forward to 
 welcome us. Among the foremost was the scarecrow leader, whom 
 I at once recognized to be poor Patsey, who, escaping in the morn- 
 ing, had returned at full speed to O'Malley Castle, and raised the 
 whole country to my rescue. Before I could address one word to 
 my faithful 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 Con- 
 sidine's ear which I heard not ; but the Count's reply 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, amid the warm congratulations and eulogiums about me, to 
 think I was no small hero, and, in fact, something very much re- 
 sembling " the man for Galway." To this feeling a circumstance 
 that followed assisted in contributing. While we were eagerly dis- 
 cussing 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 called to tell 
 you*that the wound is not supposed to be mortal — he may recover 
 yet." Without waiting for another word, he dashed spurs into his 
 5 
 
66 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 nag and rattled down the avenue at full gallop. Mr. Bodkin's dear- 
 est 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 tem- 
 per 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 re- 
 markably 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 morning must 
 keep you quiet here 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 matters 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'll 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 purpose. 
 Now, good-bye !" 
 
 When my uncle had gone I sank into a chair, and fell into a 
 musing fit over all the changes a few N hours had wrought in me. 
 From a mere boy, whose most serious employment was stocking the 
 house with game, or inspecting the kennel, I had sprung at once 
 into man's estate, was complimented for my coolness, praised for 
 my prowess, lauded for my discretion, by those who were my seniors 
 by nearly half a century! talked to in a tone of confidential inti- 
 macy 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 Kubicon, 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 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 it 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 handing a card to a servant, 
 which he was accompanying by a verbal message. The impression 
 
THE RETURN. G7 
 
 of something like hostility on the part of the Captain had never 
 left my mind, and I 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 num- 
 bered here. I have just received an order to join my regiment; we 
 have been ordered for service, and Sir George has most kindly per- 
 mitted my giving up my staff appointment. I could not, however, 
 leave the country without shaking hands with you. I owe you a 
 lesson in horsemanship, 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 coining 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 pos- 
 sibility of my suggesting such a thing to him, so that between his 
 fears and mine, the matter is never broached by either party, nor do 
 I think ever can be." 
 
 "Devilish hard — but I believe you are right; something, how- 
 ever, may turn up yet to alter his mind, and, if so, and if you do 
 take to dragooning, don't forget George Hammersley will be 
 always most delighted to meet you; and so good-bye, O'Malley, 
 good-bye." 
 
 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 
 Dash wood — 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-bye." 
 
68 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE ELECTION. 
 
 THE important morning at length arrived, and as I looked 
 from my bedroom window at daybreak, the crowd of carriages 
 of all sorts and shapes, decorated with banners and placards ; 
 lie 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 pro- 
 ceeded to dress with all possible despatch. When I appeared in the 
 oreakfast-room, it was already filled with some seventy or eighty 
 nersons of all ranks and ages, mingled confusedly together, and 
 enjoying the hospitable fare of my uncle's house, while they dis- 
 cussed all the details and prospects of the election. In the hall, the 
 library, the large drawing-room, too, similar parties were also as- 
 sembled, and, as new comers 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 contact, having only this in common — the success of the 
 cause they were engaged in. Here was the old Galway squire, with 
 an ancestry that reached to Noah, sitting side by side with the poor 
 cottier, 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 India-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 per- 
 sonage, in a black coat and eye-glass — a flash attorney 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 
 gentry, easily recognized on common occasions by a green coat, 
 brass buttons, dirty cords, and dirtier top-boots, a lashwhip, and a 
 half-bred fox-hound; but now, fresh-washed for the day, they pre- 
 sented something of the appearance of a swell mob, adjusted to the 
 meridian of Galway. A mass of frieze-coated, brown-faced, "bullet- 
 headed peasantry filled up the large spaces, dotted here and there 
 with a sleek, roguish-eyed priest, or some low electioneering agent, 
 
THE ELECTION. 69 
 
 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 narrator to be improving 
 the soil of Sydney, 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 per- 
 sonage 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 ; his neighbor, less ambitious, and less erudite 
 in such matters, was devouring rashers of bacon, with liberal pota- 
 tions of potteen ; some pale-cheeked scion of the law, with all the 
 dust of the Four Courts in his throat, was sipping his humble bev- 
 erage of black tea beside four sturdy cattle-dealers from Ballinasloe, 
 who were discussing hot whisky punch and spoleaion (boiled beef) 
 at the very primitive hour of eight in the morning. Amid the clank 
 of decanters, the clash of knives* and plates, 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 all the energy 
 of debate. 
 
 Refusing many an offered place, I went through the different 
 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'll 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'll have ?" 
 
 " Many thanks to your honor — I'd like it, av it was wholesome." 
 
 "And why shouldn'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." 
 
70 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 formidable 
 procession got under way, and headed towards the town of Gal way. 
 The road was for miles crowded with our followers ; 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, 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 Kil- 
 kenny ?" inquired Sir Harry. 
 
 "What! ever forget him!" said Considine, " with his well-pow- 
 dered wig, and his hessians. There never was his equal for lace 
 ruffles and rings." 
 
 '• You never heard, maybe, how he lost the election?" 
 
 " He resigned, I believe, or something of that sort." 
 
 " No, no," said another ; " he never came forward at all ; there's 
 some secret in it, for Tom Butler was elected without a contest." 
 
 " Jack, I'll 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 messenger came, 
 and promised to go over when I'd done ; but, faith, Tom didn'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 whisky. Calvert has the money; they know it. 
 
THE ELECTION. 71 
 
 The devil a farthing we have ; and we've been paying for all our 
 fellows that can't read in Hennesy's notes, and you know the bank's 
 broke these 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 couldn't get a decent mob and clear the poll ?' 
 
 "'lam 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 pre- 
 vented him coming down till the very day. But he is arrived 
 now ; he came in the evening, and is stopping at Walsh's in Pat- 
 rick street.' 
 
 " ' Then I'll 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. 
 
 " ' 'Twould 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 wouldn't have ten votes to 
 register. But why do you ask ?' 
 
 " ' Why, that, if you like, I'll bet you a pair of diamond earrings 
 he shan't show.' 
 
 " ' Done,' said Butler ; ' and I promise a necklace into the bargain, 
 if you win ; but I'm afraid you're only quizzing me.' 
 
 " * Here's my hand on it,' said she ; ' and now let's talk of some- 
 thing else.' 
 
 "As Lady Mary never asked my assistance, and as I 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 the room in her dressing-gown, her hair on her shoulders, 
 very much tossed and dishevelled ! The moment she came in she 
 
72 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 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 un- 
 happy 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 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 cos- 
 tume, and the strangeness of the circumstance altogether, 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 pro- 
 priety 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 gal- 
 lantry ?' 
 
 " ' 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 Kogers?' 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 marriage, she de- 
 
THE ELECTION. <S 
 
 tailed a number of circumstances, which poor Calvert, in all his 
 anxiety to come au fond at matters, could never perceive bore upon 
 the question in any way ; but as she recounted them all with great 
 force and precision, entreating him to bear in mind certain circum- 
 stances 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 
 was fully aware how his morning 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 intellects of his fair companion. 
 
 " She continued. 
 
 "The narrative, however, so far from becoming 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 forgetful ness and inattention, where, 
 in reality, nothing less than shorthand could have borne him 
 through. 
 
 " ' Was it in '93 I said Sir Harry left me at Tuam V 
 
 " ' Upon my life, madam, I am afraid to aver ; but it strikes 
 me ' 
 
 " ' Gracious powers I 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 for ever 1' from the mob without now 
 burst upon their hearing, and recalled poor Calvert at once to the 
 thought that the hours were speeding 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 morning. 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 laughter, which poor Cal- 
 vert knew at once to be hysterics. Here was a pretty situation. 
 The bell-rope lay against the opposite wall, and even if it did not, 
 would he be exactly warranted in pulling it ? 
 
 " • May the devil and all his angels take Sir Harry Boyle and his 
 whole connection to the fifth generation/ was his sincere prayer, as 
 he sat, like a Chinese juggler, under his canopy. 
 
 "At length the violence of the paroxysm seemed to subside, the 
 
74 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 sobs became less frequent, the kicking less forcible, 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 himself down noiselessly 
 to the foot of his bed, looked fixedly at the fallen lids of the sleep- 
 ing lady, and essayed one leg from the blankets. ' Now or never,' 
 said he, pushing aside the curtain, and preparing for a spring. One 
 more look he cast 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 bed- 
 clothes, 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, red- 
 dening with indignation. 
 
 "'Nothing, upon my soul, madam; it was only my dressing- 
 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 Calvert 
 heaved a profound sigh, and sunk down as if all hope had left him. 
 ' Butler for ever !' roared the mob ; ' Calvert for ever !' 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 hundred 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 deranged 
 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 impropriety of my 
 walking about the passages in this costume?' 
 
 " ' And, great God ! madam, why did you come out in it?' 
 
 "A cheer from the mob prevented her reply being audible. 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? Butler 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 cheering Mr. But- 
 ler.' [ A deafening shout burst from the street, j ' Perhaps you'd 
 
AN ADVENTURE. 75 
 
 like to see the fun, so I'll not detain you any longer. So, good-bye, 
 Mr. Calvert ; and as your breakfast will be cold, in all likelihood, 
 come down to No. 4, for Sir Harry is a late man, and will be glad 
 to see you.' " 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE. 
 
 WHILE thus we lightened our way with chatting, the in- 
 creasing 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 Bodkin'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'll 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 rejoiced to find that 
 defeat never entered. 
 
 In the goodly days I speak of, a county contest was a very differ- 
 ent thing indeed from the tame and insipid farce that now passes 
 under that name;, where a briefless barrister, bullied by both sides, 
 sits as assessor — a few drunken voters — a radical O'Connellite gro- 
 cer — 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 
 corps 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 them 
 than upon the actual stratagem 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 vic- 
 tualing of the voters, — that they obtained a due, or rather undue, 
 allowance of liquor, and came properly drunk to the poll ; others, 
 again, broke into skirmishing parties, and, scattered over the coun- 
 try, cut off the enemy's supplies, breaking down their post-chaises, 
 upsetting their jaunting-cars, stealing their poll-books, and kidnap- 
 ping their agents. Then there were secret service people, bribing 
 
76 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 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. Amid 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 compensation 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 consideration 
 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 pressing was doing, was regularly assailed 
 by both parties, — that far more dependence was placed in a blud- 
 geon 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 parallel to 
 the one we were pursuing attracted our attention, and we perceived 
 that a cortege of the opposite party was hastening on to the hust- 
 ings. 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 judged 
 to be that of Sir George Dashwood. My heart beat strongly as I 
 strained my eyes to see if Miss Dashwood w r as 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 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 w T as still lost in reverie, 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 haven'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 
 
AN AD VENT UHE. 77 
 
 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 companions 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 ; " follow 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. 
 
 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'll 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-bred, 
 was as fast as a racer for a short distance ; so that when the agent 
 and his party had come up with the carriage, I was only a few hun- 
 dred 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 
 
78 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 unaccus- 
 tomed 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 fol- 
 lowed 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 beseeching 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. The road, like most west- 
 ern Irish 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 ad- 
 vance, and when they reached the top, they proclaimed the victory 
 by a cheer of triumph and derision. The carriage disappeared be- 
 neath the crest of the mountain, and the pursuers halted, as if dis- 
 posed 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'll never 
 turn Lurra Bridge, if we only press on." 
 
 The speaker was right. The road at the mountain foot turned at 
 a perfect right 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 pos- 
 tilion 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 reck- 
 less 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. 
 
MICKEY FREE. 79 
 
 " Hold in !" shouted the ruffian, with a voice that rose high above 
 all the other sounds. " Hold in ! or, by the Eternal, I'll throw her, 
 body and bones, into the Lurra Gash !" for such was the torrent 
 called that boiled and foamed a few yards before us. 
 
 He had by this 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'll do it to a certainty if you press on." 
 
 "And we know you too," said a ruffianly fellow, with a dark 
 whisker 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, heedless 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 
 staggered, 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 
 which I was felled — from what hand coming it was never 
 afterwards 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 
 her gratitude in the warmest manner, and that Sir George had, up 
 
80 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 V 
 
 " No, pray tell me all. They've not let me hear anything hither- 
 to I" 
 
 " 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 daughter 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 ?" 
 
 "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 didn't mean to hurt your feel- 
 ings ; but I have been staying here too long. I'll send up 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 tire- 
 some 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 forbidden ; and, with a sombre half-light to 
 sit in, and chicken broth to support nature, I dragged out as dreary 
 an existence as any gentleman west of Athlone. 
 
 Whenever my uncle or Considine was not in the room, my compan- 
 ion was my own servant, Michael, or, as he was better known, " Mickey 
 Free." Now, had Mickey been left to bis 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 per- 
 
MICKEY FREE. 81 
 
 former on the violin, could dance the national bolero of " Tatter 
 Jack Walsh" in a way that charmed more than one soft heart be- 
 neath 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 open- 
 ness 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 ad- 
 mitted to the honors of the kitchen and 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 cater- 
 pillar 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 strong, 
 why the chestnut mare couldn't go out, and why the black horse 
 could. He knew the arrival of a new covey of partridges 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 faithful 
 chronicler of every wake, station, wedding, or christening for miles 
 round; and as I took no small pleasure in those very national pas- 
 times, 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 hap- 
 piness. Beyond that, his skepticism stepped in and saved him from 
 inconvenience ; and though he might have been somewhat 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, 
 who, had not heavy injunctions 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 under- 
 going in silence — " ah ! then, but you were mighty near it." 
 
 "Near what?" said I. 
 
 " Faith, then, myself doesn't well know. Some say it's purga- 
 thory ; but it's hard to tell." 
 6 
 
82 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " I thought you were too good a Catholic, Mickey, to show any 
 doubts on the matter?" 
 
 " Maybe I am — maybe I ain't," was the cautious reply. 
 
 " Wouldn't Father Eoach 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, wouldn'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 purgathory, 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 it's not the place they make 
 it out." 
 
 " 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 : 
 
 " Maybe you heard tell of the way my father — rest his soul, wher- 
 ever he is — came to his end. Well, I needn't mind particulars, but, 
 in short, he was murdered in Ballinasloe one night, when he was 
 batin' the whole town with a blackthorn stick he had, more by 
 token, a piece of scythe was stuck at the end of it ; a nate weapon, 
 and one he was mighty partial to ; but these murdering thieves, the 
 cattle dealers, that never cared for divarsion 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 some- 
 how, though I paid Father Roach fifteen shillings, and made him 
 mighty drunk, he always gave me a black look whenever 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 I've a light 
 heart, I bore up, and didn't think more about it. One day, however, 
 I was coming home" from Athlone market, by myself on the road, 
 when Father Roach overtook me. ' Devil a one o' me 'ill take any 
 notice of you now,' says I, ' and we'll see what'll come out of it.' So 
 the priest rid up, and looked me straight in the face. 
 
 " ' Mickey/ says he — ' Mickey.' 
 
 " ' Father,' says I. 
 
MICKEY FREE. 83 
 
 " ' Is it that way you salute your clargy/ says he, ' with your cau- 
 been 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 I' says 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'll 
 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.' 
 
 " ' I'm 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 Eoach/ 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.' 
 
84 CHARLES 0' MALLET. 
 
 " ' Troth, it is/ says I, \ but my father always liked low company. 
 Could nothing be done for him now, Father Roach ?' 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'll 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 doesn'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 ! — maybe twenty.' 
 
 " ' Twenty, twenty — no, nor one.' 
 
 " 'And why not?' says I ; 'what for wouldn't ye be helping a poor 
 crayture out of trouble, when it wouldn't cost you more nor a hand- 
 ful of prayers ?' 
 
 " ' Mickey, I see/ says he, in a solemn tone, ' you're worse nor a 
 haythen : but ye couldn't be other ; ye never come to yer duties.' 
 
 " ' Well, father/ says I, looking 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'll we get him out on Tuesday week ? for 
 that's bringing things to a focus.' 
 
 " i 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'll 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.' 
 
MICKEY FREE. 85 
 
 " ' Three pounds !' says I ; ' be-gorra ye might as well ax me to 
 g;ive 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 riverence,' says I — ' wait a bit. Would forty 
 shillings get him out?' 
 
 " 'Av course it wouldn't,' says he. 
 
 " ' Maybe,' says I, coaxing — ' maybe, 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,' says I. 'Well, see now, 
 I'll give you the money, but I can't afford it all at onst ; but I'll pay 
 five shillings a week — will that do ?' 
 
 " ' I'll do my enday vors,' says Father Roach ; ' and I'll speak to 
 them to treat him peaceably in the meantime.' 
 
 " ' Long life to yer riverence, and do. Well, here now, here's five 
 hogs to begin with ; and, musha, but I never thought I'd be spend- 
 ing 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 half penny — 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 easily done. What are you jingling in your pocket 
 there ?' 
 
 " ' It's ten shillings, your riverence, I have to buy seed potatoes.' 
 
 " ' Hand it here, my son. Isn't it better your father would be 
 enjoying himself in Paradise than if ye were to have all the po- 
 tatoes in Ireland ?' 
 
 " 'And how do ye know,' says I, ' he's so near out?' 
 
 " ' How do I know — how do I know, is it ?— ^didn'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 
 
86 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 hour yesterday evening, getting out Luke Kennedy's mother. De- 
 cent people the Kennedys — 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.' 
 
 " ' That's him,' says I. ' Had he a hairy cap ?' 
 
 " ' I didn't mind the cap,' says he ; ' but av coorse he wouldn't 
 have it on his head in that place.' 
 
 " ' Thrue for you,' says I. ' Did he speak to you V 
 
 " ' He did,' says Father Eoach ; ' he spoke very hard about the 
 way he was treated down there, that they was always jibin' and 
 jeerin' him about drink, 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'll 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 of it, so that, ye see, a thrifle more'll do it.' 
 
 " ' Faix, and yer riverence/ says I, * you've lightened my heart 
 this morning.' And I put my money back again into my pocket. 
 
 " ' Why, what do you mean ?' says he, growing very red, for he 
 was angry. 
 
 " • Just this/ says T, * that I've saved my money ; for av it was my 
 father you seen, and he'd got his head and one shoulder outside the 
 door, oh, then, by the powers !' says I, ' the devil a gaol or gaoler 
 from hell to Connaught 'ud hould him; so, Father Koacb, 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 pre- 
 cautions 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 something had occurred to amuse him. 
 
 " By Jove, Charley, I musn'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?" 
 
 "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 
 
MICKEY FREE. 87 
 
 down among us poor savages as much from motives of learned re- 
 search 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 
 Koger 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 crammed 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. Macnamara, 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'll help them to a better 
 understanding ere long.' 
 
 " f Such, my dear sir, will be the proudest task of my life. The 
 facts I have heard here this evening have made so profound an im- 
 pression 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 mere potatoes, but are absolutely 
 obliged to wear the skins for raiment, as Mr. Doolan has just men- 
 tioned 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.' 
 
 " \ I should deem myself culpable, indeed I should, did I not 
 inform my countrymen upon the real condition of this great country.' 
 
 "'Why, after your great opportunities forjudging,' 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 have wit- 
 nessed what the French call your vie intimeJ 
 
 " ' Begad you have,' said old Burke, with a grin, ' and profited by 
 it to the utmost.' 
 
S8 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " ' I've been a spectator of your election contests — I've partaken 
 of your hospitality — I've witnesssd your popular and natural sports 
 — I've been present at your weddings, your fairs, your wakes ; but 
 no, I was forgetting, I never saw a wake.' 
 
 "'Never saw a wake?' repeated each of the company in turn, 
 as though the gentleman was uttering a sentiment of very dubious 
 veracity. 
 
 " 'Never,' said Mr. Prettyman, rather abashed at this proof of his 
 incapacity to instruct his English friends upon all matters of Irish 
 interest. 
 
 " ' Well, then,' said Macnamara, ' with a blessing, we'll show you 
 one. Lord forbid that we shouldn't do the honors of our poor coun- 
 try to an intelligent foreigner when he's good enough to come 
 amongst us.' 
 
 " ■ Peter,' said he, turning to the servant behind him, ' who's dead 
 hereabouts ?' 
 
 " ' Sorra one, yer honor. Since the scrimmage at Portumna the 
 place is peaceable.' 
 
 " ' Who died lately in the neighborhood ?' 
 
 " ' The widow Macbride, yer honor.' 
 
 " ' Couldn't they take her up again, Peter ? My friend here never 
 saw a wake.' 
 
 " ' I'm afeerd not, for it was the boys roasted her, and she 
 wouldn'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. 
 
 " ' Well, then, Peter, tell Jemmy 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 
 when it's done, let him give notice to the neighborhood, and we'll 
 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 ghost. 
 
 " ' 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 moment old Peter entered, his face radiant with 
 smiles. 
 
 " ' Well, what's that?' said Macnamara. 
 
 " ' 'Twas Jimmy, yer honor. As the evening was rainy, he said 
 
THE JOURNEY. 89 
 
 he'd take one of the neighbors, and he hadn'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 perspira- 
 tion* broke over his forehead. • Did he murder the man ?' 
 
 " Sorra murder,' said Peter, disdainfully ; ' but why wouldn't he 
 shoot him when the master bid him V 
 
 "I needn't tell you more, Charley; but in ten minutes after, 
 feigning some excuse to leave the room, the terrified Cockney took 
 flight, and offering twenty guineas for a horse to convey him to 
 Athlone, he left Galway, fully convinced ' 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 con- 
 test 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 ex- 
 pectation of this eventful change, it was with no slight feeling of 
 emotion that I contemplated 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 differ- 
 ent 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 consti- 
 tutions ; the navy had proved, 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 remarked, 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 
 
90 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 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, was positively thrown away in the Four Courts. 
 My uncle, however, was firm, and, as old Sir Harry supported him, 
 the day was decided against us, Considine murmuring, as he left the 
 room, something that did not seem quite a brilliant anticipation 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 boyhood a military life had been my strongest 
 desire ; the roll of the drum, and the shrill pipe 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 I 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 stim- 
 ulated my ambition ; and, lastly, more than all, the avowed prefer- 
 ence 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 I should be a 
 lawyer, I neither murmured nor objected, but hugged myself in the 
 prophecy of Considine, that hinted pretty broadly, "the devil a 
 stupider 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 
 Doctor Mooney, then a junior fellow in the University, who would 
 take me into his especial charge, while Sir Harry was to furnish me 
 with a letter to his old friend Dr. Barret, whose advice and assist- 
 ance he estimated at a very high price. Provided with such docu- 
 ments, 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 
 
THE JOURNEY. 91 
 
 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 dis- 
 tance. 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 com- 
 panions together ; and as I thought now over all the thousand 
 kindnesses and affectionate instances 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 pros- 
 pect, and thus I took my leave of Galway. 
 
 My friend Mickey, who sat behind with the guard, participated 
 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 whisky was not dearer, and looked forward to the other de- 
 lights of the capital with a longing heart. Meanwhile, resolved 
 that no portion of his career should be lost, he was lightening the 
 road by anecdote 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 at large, he devoted himself considerably, 
 pressing his suit with all the aid of his native minstrelsy. 
 
 " Hould me tight, Miss Matilda, dear." 
 
 " My name's Mary Brady, av ye plase." 
 
 " Ay, and I do plase. 
 
 " Oh, Mary Brady, you are my darlin', 
 You are my looking-glass, from night till mornin' ; 
 I'd rayther have ye without one farthen, 
 Nor Shusey Gallagher and her house and garden. 
 
 May I never av I wouldn't, then ; and ye needn'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." 
 
 Mickey well knew that few western gentlemen were without con- 
 
92 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 stant 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 ; until 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'll 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 St. Denis of France " 
 
 "POTTEEN, GOOD LUCK TO YE, DEAR. 
 
 " Av I was a monarch in state, 
 
 Like Romulus or Julius Caysar, 
 With the best of fine victuals to ate, 
 
 And drink like great Nebuchadnezzar, 
 A rasher of bacon I'd have, 
 
 And potatoes the finest was seen, sir ; 
 And for drink, it's no claret I'd crave, 
 But a keg of ould Mullens' potteen, 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 could, 
 
 The Romans at home here like whisky. 
 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 accom- 
 panied it, completely established the singer's pre-eminence in the 
 company ; and I heard sundry sounds resembling drinking, with 
 frequent good wishes to the provider of the feast — " Long life to 
 ye, Mr. Free," " Your health and inclinations, Mr. Free," &c. — to 
 which Mr. Free responded by drinking those of the company, " av 
 they were vartuous." The amicable relations thus happily estab- 
 lished promised a very lasting reign, and would doubtless have en- 
 joyed 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 ecclesiastic breadth in 
 their brim, and had altogether the peculiar air and bearing which 
 distinguishes their calling, being no less than three Koman Catholic 
 
THE JOURNEY. 93 
 
 prelates, on their way to Dublin to attend a convocation. While 
 Mickey and his friends, with the ready tact which every low Irish- 
 man possesses, immediately perceived who and what these worship- 
 ful individuals were, another traveller, who had just assumed his 
 place on the outside, participated but little in the feelings of reve- 
 rence 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 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 displayed 
 with something of ostentation, whenever an opportunity 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 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 bril- 
 liant success. The brethren had feasted and feted him ; he had 
 made several splendid orations, with the usual number of prophe- 
 cies about the speedy downfall of Romanism ; the inevitable return 
 of Protestant ascendency; the pleasing prospect that, with in- 
 creased effort and improved organization, they should soon be able 
 to have everything their own way, and clear the Green Isle of 
 the horrible vermin St. 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 be 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. Happily 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 conducive to his happiness to sing "Croppies Lie 
 Down," or "The Battle of Ross." As for Billy Crow (long life to 
 him !), you might as well attempt to pass a turkey upon M. Audubon 
 for a giraffe, as endeavor to impose a papist upon him for a true 
 
04 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 greatcoat, 
 stuck his hands firmly in his side-pockets, pursed up his lips, and 
 looked altogether like a man who, feeling himself out of his ele- 
 ment, 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 announcement of his name ; 
 and as Mickey could read, this was one important step already 
 gained. 
 
 He accordingly took the first opportunity of seating himself be- 
 side him, and opened the conversation by some very polite observa- 
 tion upon the other's wearing apparel, which is always in the west 
 considered a piece of very courteous attention. By degrees the dia- 
 logue prospered, and Mickey began to make some very important 
 revelations about himself and his master, intimating that the 
 * state of the country" w T as such that a man of his way of thinking 
 had no peace or quiet in it. * 
 
 "That's him there, forninst ye," said Mickey, "and a better Pro- 
 testant never hated mass. Ye understand ?" 
 
 "What!" said Billy, unbuttoning the collar of his coat, to get a 
 fairer view at his companion ; u why, I thought you were " 
 
 Here he made some resemblance of the usual manner of blessing 
 one's self. 
 
 " 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." 
 
 " 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 Tallvbash. Them's 
 they." 
 
THE JOURNEY. 95 
 
 " You don't say so V s 
 
 " Faix, but I do." 
 
 " May I never drink the 12th of July if I didn't think they were 
 priests." 
 
 " Priests !" said Mickey, in a roar of laughter — '''priests 1" 
 
 " 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 wouldn'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 reverie 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 Tally- 
 bash, 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 under-tone the loyal melody of " Croppies Lie Down," fanned 
 the flame he had so dexterously 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 whisky punch, which 
 he continued to stir with a spoon. As he approached the coach 
 door, he tapped gently with his knuckles, upon which the reverend 
 prelate of Maronia, or Mesopotamia, I forget which, inquired what 
 he wanted. 
 
 "I ask your pardon, gentlemen," said Billy, "but I thought I'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 cir- 
 cumstances now and then — and one might for the honor of the 
 cause, you know. Just put it to your lips, wont you ?" 
 
 "Excuse me," said a very rosy-cheeked little prelate, "but 
 nothing stronger than water " 
 
 " Botheration," thought Billy, as he regarded the speaker's nose. 
 "But I thought," said he, aloud, "that you would not refuse this." 
 
 Here he made a peculiar manifestation in the air, which, what- 
 ever respect and reverence it might carry to the honest brethren of 
 13,476, seemed only to increase the wonder and astonishment of the 
 bishops. 
 
06 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "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 friend's 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 ?" chorused the priests. 
 
 " ' July the 1st, in Oldbridge town,' " sang Billy, " and here it is, 
 1 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 ' " 
 
 " 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, resolved 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 codte, certainly in 
 an Irish row. " The merest urchin may light the train ; one hand- 
 ful of mud often ignites a shindy that ends in a most bloody battle." 
 And here, no sooner did the vis a tergo impel Billy forward, when a 
 severe rap of a closed fist in the eye drove him back, and in one in- 
 stant 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 when 
 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. 
 
DUBLIN. 97 
 
 As for Mickey and his friends behind, their mirth knew no 
 bounds ; and, except the respectable insides, there was not an indi- 
 vidual 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 ignorance of such 
 persons, I had imagined a college fellow to be a character necessa- 
 rily 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 something like an 
 account of the life before me, for which Sir Harry Boyle had, how- 
 ever, 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 difficult 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, Frank 
 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 rather a 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 rest- 
 ing-place, you may take up your abode with him." 
 
 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 talent and acquirements, pre- 
 ferred a life of rackety and careless dissipation to prospects of great 
 7 
 
98 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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, with what he him- 
 self believed to be a total reformation, to stumble on to a degree in 
 the " silent sister." 
 
 " This is his third year," said the doctor, " and he is only a fresh- 
 man, having lost every examination, with abilities enough to sweep 
 the University of its prizes. But come over now, and I'll 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 considerable 
 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 threatened 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 the fire. He was attired in a silk 
 dressing-gown and black velvet slippers, and supported his forehead 
 upon a hand of most lady-like whiteness, whose fingers were abso- 
 lutely 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 + he volumes 
 before him, that he never raised his head at our approach, but con- 
 tinued to read aloud, totally unaware of our presence. 
 
 " Dr. Mooney, sir," said the servant. 
 
 " Ton dapamey bominos, prosephe, cr'wne Agamemnon," repeated the 
 student, in an ecstasy, and not paying the slightest attention to the 
 announcement. 
 
DUBLIN. 99 
 
 " Dr. Mooney, sir," repeated the servant in a louder tone, while 
 the Doctor looked around on every side for an explanation of the 
 late uproar, with a face of the most puzzled astonishment. 
 
 " Be dakiown para thina dolekoskion enkos," 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 you 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 vex- 
 ata questio in his mind. 
 
 "May I offer you a cup of coffee, Mr. 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 I did. O'Malley and I could not hear our- 
 selves talking with the uproar." 
 
 "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 ; for, 
 after all, I'll change my chambers." 
 
 " But why ? Explain this at once. I insist upon it." 
 
 " Can I depend upon the discretion of your young friend ?" said 
 Mr. Webber, gravely. 
 
 "Perfectly," said the Doctor, now wound up to the greatest 
 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 
 
100 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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, albeit a man of 
 the 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 circumstantially the frightful 
 excesses of the great functionary, I saw that something like convic- 
 tion was stealing over him. 
 
 " You'll 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'Malley, I leave you here," said 
 he ; " Webber and you can talk over your arrangements." 
 
 Webber followed the Doctor to the door, whispered something 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 professions of the most fervent kind, amid 
 which the door was shut, and Mr. Webber returned to the room. 
 
 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 appearance 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 key-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, this is'Henry 
 Nesbitt, who has been in college since the days of old Perpendic- 
 ular, and numbers more cautions than any 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 dashing dragoon, as you see ; aide-de-camp to his Ex- 
 cellency 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 
 
DUBLIN.- 101 
 
 table, and displayed beneath a pack of cards, dealt as<> i£ for wMst. 
 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 personage 
 appeared with the dish in question. 
 
 " Mr. O'Malley, Mr. Moore, the gentleman who, by repeated re- 
 monstrances 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 pass- 
 ing 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." 
 
 " Double or quit, and a dinner at Dunleary," said Webber. 
 "We must show O'Malley — confound the Mister — something 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 unem- 
 ployed 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 phil- 
 anthropic 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. Fran- 
 
102 OB AllUS O'M ALLEY. 
 
 cis We^ber-j vvas 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 disguises, both of dress, voice, and 
 manner, that he actually at one time succeeded in obtaining charity 
 from his very opponent in the wager. 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, grow- 
 ing impatient to carry him off to supper somewhere, would invari- 
 ably be obliged to have a fight for the booty. 
 
 Now, it chanced that, a few evenings before, Mr. Webber was re- 
 turning, with a pocket well lined with copper, from a musical re- 
 union 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. 
 
 The light was shining brightly from a pastrycook's shop, and 
 showed the large bars of stone beneath which the muddy water was 
 rushing rapidly down, and plashing in the torrent that ran boister- 
 ously several feet beneath. 
 
 To stop in the street of any crowded city is, under any circum- 
 stances, an invitation for others to do likewise, which is rarely un- 
 accepted ; 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 indi- 
 vidual 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 important spot was awful. 
 
 " Where did he come from ?" " Who is he?" " How did he get 
 there ?" were questions on every side, and various surmises were 
 
DUBLIN. 103 
 
 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 
 Liffey, and took the wrong turn." 
 
 To an Irish mob, what appeal could equal this ? A culprit at any 
 time has his claims 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 might have envied, imparting now and then such 
 hints concerning 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 candle with a string — 
 " do ye see the light ? Oh ! he's fainted, the creature." A cry of 
 horror from the crowd burst forth at these words, followed by a uni- 
 versal 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 exhumation was begun 
 with a vigor that speedily covered nearly half the street with mud and 
 paving-stones. Parties relieved 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 conjectures as to 
 his fate began to gain ground. By this 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 the 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. 
 
104 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CAPTAIN POWER. 
 
 WITHIN a few weeks after my arrival in town, I had become 
 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 companion into whose society I was 
 then immediately thrown would have quickly dissipated them. He 
 voted morning chapels a bore, Greek lectures a humbug, examina- 
 tions 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 wondered 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 sur- 
 prised to find that what I had looked forward to as a very melan- 
 choly 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 horseback, and either cantered in the 
 Phcenix or about the squares till visiting time ; after which made 
 our calls, and then dressed for dinner, which we never thought of 
 taking at commons, but had it from Morrison's, we both being re- 
 ported 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, whist parties, rows at 
 . the theatre, shindies in the street, devilled drumsticks at Hayes's, 
 select oyster parties at the Carlingford; in fact, in 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 captain, were his particular 
 friends, and we had frequent invitations 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 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 
 
CAPTAIN POWER. 105 
 
 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 form no small part of the charm in the charac- 
 ter 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'Malley," said he, "in company 
 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 Dash- 
 wood who was with me ; he told us of your most romantic adven- 
 ture 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 Dash wood. 
 
 " Sir George is cudgelling his brain to show his gratitude to you," 
 said Power. 
 
 " What a pity, for the sake of his peace of mind, that you are 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'll 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 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 ? 
 
106 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 casualties 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 origi- 
 nally destined 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 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 pillory, or 
 publicly whipped V 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 ambi- 
 tion 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 inven- 
 tion to cheat the enemy that I could read of, I treasured up care- 
 fully, 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 housemaids 
 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 
 
CAPTAIN PO WEE. 107 
 
 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 annoyance 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 £500. 
 
 " The next day I was sent off in disgrace to Dublin, to 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 Counsellor 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 tfte best thing that could happen to me, for I had 
 nothing else to do. The hall of the Four Courts was a very plea- 
 sant lounge, plenty of agreeable fellows that never earned sixpence, 
 or were likely to uo 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 
 circuit, the crossest old villain that ever was a king's counsel. 
 These eminent qualities, and my being able to sing a song in honor 
 of our own bar, were recommendations enough to make me a favor- 
 ite, 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 accom- 
 pany the circuit, a kind of deputy-assistant commissary-general, 
 never expected 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 expected was for- 
 getfulness, for I don't think a single attorney in Dublin knew 
 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 animated conversation in a corner between two 
 pillars, devil a one would believe him to be a client, and I was 
 fairly nonplussed. 
 
108 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " - 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' ; every 
 one says, " How are you, Dick?" " How goes it, Power?" hut ex- 
 cept 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 aston- 
 ish them ! As the song says, — 
 
 " Perhaps a recruit 
 Might chance to shoot 
 
 Great General Bonapartfi." 
 
 So,' said I to myself, ' I'll 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 
 Philipstown ; I was lying awake in bed, thinking how long it would 
 be before I'd sum up resolution to cut the bar, where certainly 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 to 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 important case of Mona- 
 ghan v. M'Shean, to be tried in the Record 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 compassion at 
 his simplicity : ' I'm worn out with them ; do you know, Peter, I 
 
CAPTAIN POWER. 109 
 
 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 trans- 
 port 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 ;is 
 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 subdued a little. I opened the roll of paper, and began 
 carefully to peruse about fifty pages of narrative regarding a water- 
 course 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 respectable neighbors at loggerheads, and in- 
 volved 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 the most flowery oration, in which I descanted 
 upon the benefits accruing to mankind from water-communication 
 since the days of Noah ; remarked 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 considerable impres- 
 sion upon the court. Just at the critical moment when I was about 
 to 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 filled, 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 so I am 
 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- 
 
110 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 tied packet, and pronounced it a real brief, with a degree of sur- 
 prise that certainly augured little for their familiarity with such 
 objects of natural history. 
 
 " When they had left the room, I leisurely examined the all-im- 
 portant 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 reverie. The 
 ambition which disappointments had crushed, and delay had 
 chilled, came suddenly back, and all my day-dreams of legal suc- 
 cess, my cherished aspirations after silk-gowns, and patents of pre- 
 cedence, rushed once more upon me, and I resolved to do or die. 
 Alas ! a very little reflection showed me that the latter was per- 
 fectly practicable, but that, as a junior counsel, five minutes of very 
 commonplace recitation was all my province, 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 Higgin,' &c, 
 and down I go, no more to be remembered and thought of than if I 
 had never existed. How different it would be were I 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 Mills 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 con- 
 vinced 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. 
 
 " ' Fred,' 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, what matter?" he said ; 'you'll do well 
 enough, never be afraid.' 
 
 "'Alas!' said I, 'you don't understand the cause of my depres- 
 sion.' 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, 
 
CAPTA IN PO WER. Ill 
 
 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 greatcoat, 
 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 ?' inquired Casey of the waiter. 
 
 " 'Counsellor Mills, Captain,' said the waiter, and left the room. 
 
 "'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 Tim. 
 
 " ' Devil a better,' said I ; ' and he's as jealous as Old Nick/ 
 
 " ' Hem,' said Tim ; ' mind your cue, and I'll 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 sensation was created in the neighborhood of Merrion 
 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 something 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 rash- 
 ness 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, burst- 
 ing with passion. 
 
 " ' Not at present/ said Tim, quietly; 'but I hope to do so in the 
 morning, in explanation of your language and conduct.' A tre- 
 mendous 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 Casey. 
 
112 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' Captain Casey, sir ; the commanding officer here/ 
 
 " ' Just so,' said Casey ; ' and very much at your service, any 
 hour after five in the morning.' 
 
 " ' Then you refuse, sir, to explain the 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 prac- 
 tised. 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 want 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 plan 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 Monaghan v. M'Shean was called on, and as the 
 senior counsel were not present, the attorney wished a postponement 
 I, however, was firm ; told the court I was quite prepared, and with 
 such an air of assurance 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 testimony of our own, 
 and fought like a Trojan for the credit and character of the per- 
 jurers against us! The judge rubbed his eyes — the jury looked 
 
CAPTAIN PO WER. 113 
 
 amazed — and the whole bar laughed outright. However, on I 
 went, blundering, floundering, and foundering at every step, and at 
 half-past four, amid 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 Mount, who was supposed 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 without a single 
 regret, I must confess, that I didn't succeed in the great record of 
 Monaghan v. M'Shean." 
 
 Once more the claret went 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 O'Malley 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 :" 
 
 "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 rivals, 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 bright sabretasche. 
 Oh ! there you may see him in full glory crown'd, 
 As he sits 'mid 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." 
 8 
 
114 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 It was late when we broke up ; but among all the recollections of 
 that pleasant evening, none clung to me so forcibly, none sunk so 
 deeply in my heart, as the gay and careless tone of Power's manly 
 voice; and as I fell asleep towards morning, the words 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 introduc- 
 tion to Dr. Barret. Somehow my thoughts and occupations 
 had left me little lebure to reflect upon my college course, and I 
 had not felt the necessity, suggested by my 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 indifference, 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 singu- 
 lar 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 waik / that added an air of indescri- 
 bable 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 habiliments, and completed the equipments 
 of a figure that it was somewhat difficult for the young student to 
 recognize as the Vice-Provost of the University. Such was he in 
 externals. Within, a greater or more profound scholar never 
 graced the walls of the college ; a distinguished Grecian, learned in 
 
THE VICE-PROVOST. 115 
 
 all the refinements of a hundred dialects ; a deep Orientalist, cun- 
 ning 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 referred to by his co- 
 temporaries 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. Without 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 the col- 
 lege, 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 distinguished him as a youth ad- 
 hered 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 fellow, he was obliged, by the rjules of 
 the college, to take holy orders as a sine qua non to his holding his 
 fellowship. This he did as he would have assumed a red hood or a 
 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 for- 
 gotten, and he would utter some sudden and terrific oath, more pro- 
 ductive of mirth to his auditors than was seemly, and 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 ac- 
 quainted 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 
 
11G CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 and great parsimony of the Doctor, 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 halfpenny, 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 commons wall. He 
 waited 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 miscalculated the distance, 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 requiring my im- 
 mediate attendance at the Board, then sitting in solemn conclave at 
 the examination-hall. 
 
 I accordingly assumed my academic costume as speedily as pos- 
 sible, 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, &c, and from 
 the silence they maintained, as I walked up the hall, I argued 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 quartvs, I believe; a'n't you?" 
 
 " I believe not. I think I am the only person of that name now 
 on the books." 
 
THE VICE-PBOVOST. 117 
 
 '* That's thrue : but there were three O'Malleys before you. God- 
 frey 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, &c. I see 
 your name every day on the punishment roll. Late hours, never at 
 chapel, seldom at morning 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, dangerous 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'll fine you for it." 
 
 " I believe, Doctor," said the Dean, interrupting, in an under 
 tone, " that you cannot impose a penalty in this matter." 
 
 "Ay, but I can. ' Singing-birds,' says the statute, ' are forbidden 
 within the walls.' 
 
 "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 ! — 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 wasn't another sweep in the place but myself. 
 Hell to — I mean — God forgive me for swearing ! but I'll fine you 
 a pound for this." 
 
 As I saw the Doctor was getting on at such a pace, I resolved, 
 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. 
 
 " Well, 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 
 
118 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 you that 'sum ; but he had just sealed the letter when he recol- 
 lected it," 
 
 " Better late than never," said the Doctor, smiling graciously. 
 " Where's the money ? Ay ! half-a-crown. I haven't twopence— 
 never mind. Go away, young man ; the case is dismissed. Vehem- 
 enter miror quare hue venisti. You're more fit for anything than a 
 college life. Keep good hours ; mind the terms ; and dismiss Mi~ 
 
 chaelis Liber. 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-fourpence. 
 
 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. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 TRINITY COLLEGE — A LECTURE. 
 
 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-conducted, disorderly men 
 on the books of the University. Were the lamps of the squares 
 extinguished, and the college left in total darkness, we were sum- 
 moned 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 con- 
 gregation 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 classic precinct commemorated by a Latin writer, lay 
 open night and day; while moustached 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 than the chambers 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 
 
TRINITY COLLEGE— A LECTURE. 119 
 
 never opened, but lamps and candles kept always burning. Such 
 was No. 2, Old Square, in the goodly days I write of. All the ter- 
 rors of fines and punishments fell scathless on the head of my 
 worthy chum. In fact, like a well-known political 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 his way, serpenting through the statute-book, ever 
 gazing, 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 law 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 Mr. Webber, with 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 with him for an hour 
 or so in the evening, the delusion 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 tc spare. 
 Except read, there was nothing he did not do ; training a hack for 
 a race in the Phoenix — arranging a rowing-match — getting up a 
 mock duel between two white-feather acquaintances, were his almost 
 daily avocations. Besides that, he was at the head of many organ- 
 ized societies, instituted for various benevolent purposes. One was 
 called "The Association for Discountenancing Watchmen ;" 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 with the assistance of some 
 black paint, a ladder, and a few pounds of gunpowder, they cer- 
 tainly contrived to effect many important changes. Upon an exam- 
 ination morning, some hundred luckless "jibs" might be seen 
 perambulating the courts, in the vain effort to discover their tutors' 
 chambers, the names having undergone an alteration that left all 
 trace of their original proprietors unattainable ; Doctor Francis 
 
120 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Mooney having become Doctor Full Moon — Doctor Hare being, by 
 the change of two letters, Doctor Ape — Eomney Robinson, Romulus 
 and Remus, &c. 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 considerable 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 with " Poor Frank I" upon his ignorance of some college 
 rule or etiquette, his breach of which had been long and deliber- 
 ately 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 perhaps 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 most peremp- 
 tory order for his appearance at commons, his name being erased 
 from the sick list, and a pretty strong hint conveyed to him that 
 any evasion upon his part wOuld be certainly followed by an in- 
 quiry 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 difficulty — in fact, he rather liked one. A very brief 
 consideration accordingly sufficed, and he sat down and wrote to his 
 friends at the Royal Barracks thus : — 
 
 " Dear Power : — I have a better plan for Tuesday than that I 
 had proposed. Lunch here at three — (we'll call it dinner) — in the 
 hall with the great guns. I can't say much for the grub, but the 
 company — glorious I After that we'll start for Lucan in the drag — 
 take our coffee, strawberries, &c, and return to No. 2 for supper at 
 ten. Advertise your fellows of this change, and believe me, 
 " Most unchangeably yours, 
 
 "Frank Webber. 
 
 " Saturday." 
 
 Accordingly, as three o'clock struck, six dashing-looking light 
 dragoons were seen slowly sauntering up the middle of the dining- 
 hall, escorted by Webber, who, in full academic costume, was leis- 
 urely ciceroning his friends, and expatiating upon the excellencies 
 of the very remarkable portraits which graced the walls. 
 
 The porters looked on with some surprise at the singular hour 
 
TRINITY COLLEGE— A LECTURE. 121 
 
 selected for sight-seeing, but what was their astonishment to find 
 that the party, having arrived at the end of the hall, instead of 
 turning back again, very composedly unbuckled their belts, and, 
 having disposed of their sabres in a corner, took their places at the 
 fellows' table, and sat down amid 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 Webber, lean- 
 ing forward, enjoined his friends, in a very 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 neighbor- 
 ing dish — a very quick interchange of good things speedily follow- 
 ing the appropriation. It was in vain that the Senior Lecturer 
 looked aghast — that the Professor of Astronomy frowned — the 
 whole table, indeed, were thunderstruck, 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 surprise over, the porters informed them that except 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 
 there was a most unaccountable absence of wine, and suggesting 
 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 con- 
 cluded, the fellows took their departure, 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 morn- 
 ing, 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 14th Light Dragoons were pro- 
 nounced the most insolent corps in the service. 
 
122 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Aii adventure of his, however, got wind about this time, and 
 served to enlighten many persons as to his real character, 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 theweek 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, fire- 
 less chamber, — the lecturer lying snug amid his blankets, while we 
 stood shivering around the walls, — the ardor of learning must, in- 
 deed, have proved strong that prompted a regular attendance. As 
 to Frank, he would as soon have 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 frequently 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 insupport- 
 able, that I told my sorrows to my friend, who listened 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 resided a short dis- 
 tance from town, and spending the night at their house. He, of 
 course, did not lecture the following 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 
 announcement upon his 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 himself 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 bed-room, 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 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 at- 
 tention. 
 
 " Who's there ?" said Frank, mimicking the Doctor's voice, as he 
 yawned three or four times in succession, and turned in the bed. 
 
 " Collisson, O'Malley, Nesbitt," &c, said a number of voices, 
 anxious to have all the merit such a penance could confer. 
 
 "Where's Webber?" 
 
 " Absent, sir," chorused the whole party. 
 
TRINITY COLLEGE— A LECTURE. 123 
 
 " 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 monotonous 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 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 surprise 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. Keally, this is too 
 bad !" An indistinct muttering here from the crowd was followed 
 by an announcement from the Doctor that "the speaker was an 
 ass, and his head a turnip ! Not one of you capable of translating 
 a chorus from Euripides — ' Ou, ou, papai, papai,' &c, which, after 
 all, means no more than — ' Oh, whilleleu, murder, why did you 
 die ?' &c. 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'll bring you 
 before the Board — I'll write to your friends — I'll stop your college 
 indulgences — I'll confine you to the walls — I'll be d — , eh " 
 
 This lapse confused him. He stammered, stuttered, endeavored 
 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 remained snug in our quarters. 
 
124 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 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 eclio in my regrets 
 that the student is not as young in me as when those scenes were 
 enacting of which I write. 
 
 CHAPTER 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 invi- 
 tation 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 Dash wood, 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 your looking so 
 excessively conscious. But I must tell you, in all fairness, that you 
 have no chance ; nothing short of a dragoon will go down." 
 
 " Be assured," said I, somewhat nettled, " my pretensions do not 
 aspire to the fair Miss Dashwood." 
 
 " Tant mieux et tant pis, won cher. I wish to Heaven mine did ; and, 
 by St. 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 re- 
 gions ?" 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 am 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." 
 
THE IN VI TA TION— THE WA GEE. 1 25 
 
 " I believe I can enlighten you," said Power. " Lady Daslrwood 
 '—rest her soul ! — came west of the Shannon ; she had a large prop- 
 erty somewhere in Mayo, and owned some hundred acres of swamp, 
 with some thousand starving tenantry thereupon, that people dig- 
 nified as an estate in Connaught. This first suggested to him the 
 notion of setting up for the county, probably supposing that the 
 people who 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 mar- 
 ried, 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 re- 
 view — was much struck with his air and appearance — made some 
 inquiries — found him to be of excellent family and irreproachable 
 conduct — made him an aide-de-camp — and, in fact, made his for- 
 tune. I do not believe that, while doing so kind, he could by possi- 
 bility 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 re- 
 mittances, 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 a general 
 court-martial could at all 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 ; " and he hopes to leave Ireland without 
 that blessing, the prospect of which, however remote and unlikely, 
 has, I know well, more than once terrified 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 
 
126 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 O'Malley there from my chambers, and never notices the other man, 
 the superior in the firm. Eh, O'Malley, what say you ?" 
 
 " Why, I didn't know you were acquainted." 
 
 "And who said we were? It was his fault, though, entirely, 
 that we were not. I am, as I ever have 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 daughter, just at that 
 budding, unsuspecting age when the heart is most susceptible of im- 
 pressions ; and where, let me ask, could she run such a risk as in the 
 chance of a casual meeting 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 and secrecy, he might 
 have depended on me ; now, having taken the other line " 
 
 "Well, what then?" 
 
 " Why, he must abide the consequences. I'll make fierce love to 
 Louisa ; isn't that the name ?" 
 
 " Lucy, so please you." 
 
 " Well, be it so — to Lucy — talk the little girl into a most deplora- 
 ble attachment for me." 
 
 " But how, may I ask, and when ?" 
 
 " I'll 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." 
 
 " My very dear friend, I go entirely upon my own. I 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 bet I don't ? There, now, I'll give you a pony a 
 piece, 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 ?" 
 
THE BALL. 127 
 
 " I thank you," said I, coldly ; " I'm 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'll 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'll 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 Eoyal Hospital, when, hav- 
 ing dropped my pasteboard, I returned to the college. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE BALL. 
 
 I HAVE often dressed for a storming party with less of trepida- 
 tion than I felt on the evening of Sir George Dashwood's ball. 
 Since the eventful day of the election I had never seen Miss 
 Dashwood ; therefore, as to what precise position I might 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 advance- 
 
128 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 ment 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 exertions, 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 hap- 
 pen, and where would she then be, and where should I ? — where the 
 ardent affection I now felt and gloried in — perhaps all the more for 
 its desperate hopelessness — when the sanguine and buoyant spirit to 
 combat with difficulties which youth suggests, and which later man- 
 hood refuses, should have passed away ? And even if all these sur- 
 vived 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, essentially 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? How shall I renounce all my plans, and unweave 
 the web of life I have been spreading around me for many a day, 
 without that one golden thread that lent it more than half its bril- 
 liancy 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 affection — 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'aeil of the ball- 
 room, as I entered, struck me with astonishment, accustomed as I 
 had hitherto been to nothing more magnificent 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 uniforms, and the blaze of plumed and jewelled dames, 
 with the clang of military music, was a species of enchanted atmos- 
 phere which, breathed 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 whispered words and silent glances of those 
 fair damsels, than all the loud gayety and boisterous freedom of 
 
THE BALL. 129 
 
 our country belles, who sought to take the heart by storm and es- 
 calade. 
 
 As yet I had seen neither Sir George nor his daughter ; and while 
 I looked on every side for Lucy Dash wood, it was with a beating and 
 anxious heart that 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 for some one, 
 and the next moment she appeared leaning upon the arm of ano- 
 ther lady. One look was all that I had time for, when she recog- 
 nized 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 wait- 
 ing for us." 
 
 " But, Captain Fortescue, you must excuse me one moment more. 
 Mr. Lechmere, will you do me the kindness to find 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 — "Pas mal!" — which, as the lady 
 continued 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 kindness 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. No 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 great- 
 est service man ever rendered me. He saved Lucy, my lord — res- 
 cued her under circumstances where anything short of his courage 
 and determination must have cost her her life." 
 
 " Ah ! very pretty indeed," said the stiff old gentleman addressed, 
 as he bowed a most superbly-powdered scalp before 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 ; he's not in 
 the army." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! thought he was." 
 9 
 
130 CHARLES 0' MAI LEY. 
 
 "You dance, 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, when 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 Muckleman, 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 Some- 
 thing'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 V " said a silvery voice beside 
 me. I turned, and saw Lucy Dashwood, who, having overheard 
 my very 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 conversation, I could not help remarking that, after 
 the surprise of her first meeting with me, Miss Dashwood's manner 
 became gradually more and more reserved, and that there was an 
 evident struggle between her wish to appear grateful for what had 
 occurred and a sense of the necessity of not incurring a greater 
 degree of intimacy. Such was my impression, at least, and such the 
 conclusion which I drew from a certain quiet tone in her manner, 
 that went much further 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. 
 
THE BALL. 131 
 
 that I should alarm you in this way ; but, certainly, a more dis- 
 agreeable contretemps could scarcely occur." 
 
 " Do tell me ; what can it be ?" 
 
 " Read this," said he, presenting a very dirty -looking note, which 
 bore the mark of a red wafer most infernally plain upon its out- 
 side. 
 
 Miss Dashwood unfolded the billet, and, after a moment's silence, 
 instead of participating, as he expected, in her father's feelings 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 " 
 
 " Nonsense, 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 js to be done ? If she forces her way in here, I shall go de- 
 ranged 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'll not be far 
 off. I'm on my way up to town, to be 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 
 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 this 
 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 writer was the maiden sister of the 
 late Lady Dashwood, and for whose relationship 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 nowise pre- 
 pared. 
 
132 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " 1 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'll 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 
 thrown 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 off 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 crowd towards the door. It is no common occur- 
 rence that can distract the various occupations of a crowded ball- 
 room, where, amid the crash of music and the din of conversation, 
 goes on the soft, low voice of insinuating flattery, or the light flirta- 
 tion 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 own, and caring for and heeding 
 nothing that goes on around ; and even when some striking charac- 
 ter or illustrious 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 to flow 
 on. Not so now, however. No sooner had the servant 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 di- 
 rected towards the door. About two steps in advance of the ser- 
 vant, 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 cen- 
 tury. 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 piercing 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 repetition of her name by the ser- 
 vant she courtesied 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 
 
THE BALL. 133 
 
 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 despair, forced his way through the crowd, and taking 
 her hand affectionately, bade 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 ; then, 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 mat a propos addition to his party ; but by degrees the 
 various groups renewed their occupations, 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 outstripped 
 his sense of decorum to his commanding officer, had already made 
 his way towards Miss Dashwood, and succeeded in obtaining a for- 
 mal introduction to Miss Macan. 
 
 " I hope you will do me the favor to dance the next set with me, 
 Miss Macan ?" 
 
 "Keally, 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. 
 
 " 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 didn't mean to offend you ; I'm 
 certain he " 
 
 " Well, why did he dare to— sob, sob — did he see anything 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 whisky negus ?" 
 
 Whatever sympathy Miss Macan's sufferings might have excited 
 
134 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 in the crowd about her before, this last question totally routed it, 
 and a hearty fit of laughter broke forth from more than one of the 
 bystanders. 
 
 At length, however, she was comforted, and her pacification com- 
 pletely effected by Sir George setting her down to a whist-table. 
 From this moment I lost sight of her for above two hours. Mean- 
 while, 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 circumstanced — that the sense 
 of gratitude to one whose further advances she might have feared 
 rendered her constrained and awkward. " Too true," said I ; " she 
 avoids me. My being here is only a source of discomfort and pain 
 to her ; therefore, I'll 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?" 
 
 " Yes, but I do, though — turned the ace every time. Lady Her- 
 bert 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— very !" 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 re- 
 conciled, and certainly testified most openly their mutual feelings of 
 good will. 
 
 " I say, Charley," whispered Power, as I came along, " it is capital 
 fun— never met anything equal to her; but the poor General will 
 never live through it, and I'm certain of ten days' 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 
 
THE BALL. 135 
 
 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 soiled 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 
 propinquity in the crush is safe or seasonable for their daughters to 
 the moustached 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 profane looks and soft speeches of 
 the younger part of the creation. Then there are the oi polloi of 
 outcasts, younger sons of younger brothers, tutors, governesses, por- 
 tionless cousins, and curates, all formed in a phalanx round the side 
 tables, whose primitive habits and simple tastes are evinced by their 
 all 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 pantomime of drinking. To this miserable tiers 6tat 
 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 beautiful ; her brilliant eyes were 
 lit with pleasure, and her smile was enchantment itself. What would 
 I not have given for one moment's explanation, as I took my leave 
 forever! — one brief avowal of my love, my unalterable, devoted 
 love ; for which I sought not nor expected return, but merely that I 
 might not be forgotten. 
 
 Such were my thoughts, when a dialogue quite near me aroused 
 me from my reverie. I was not long in detecting the speakers, who, 
 with their backs turned to us, were seated at the great table, discus- 
 sing 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?" 
 
136 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "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." 
 
 " Never heard of the lady," said Power. 
 
 " Sure, it's a song — poor creature — it's a song they 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 wouldn'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 Macan's 
 finger, " and now for your promise." 
 
 " Maybe 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 Macan's song !" said Power, tapping the table with his 
 knife. 
 
 " Miss Macan'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 ; bat at the end of 
 each verse a species of echo followed the last word, thai rendered it 
 irresistibly ridiculous. 
 
 " THE WIDOW MALONE. 
 
 " Did ye hear of the Widow Malone, 
 
 OhoneV 
 Who lived in the town of Athlone 
 
 Alone ? 
 Oh ! she melted the hearts 
 Of the swains in them parts, 
 So lovely the Widow Malone, 
 
 Ohonef 
 So lovely the Widow Malone. 
 
 " Of lovers she had a full score, 
 
 Or more; 
 And fortunes they all had galore, 
 
 In store ; 
 
THE BALL. 137 
 
 From the minister down 
 
 To the clerk of the crown, 
 
 All were courting the Widow Malone, 
 
 Ohone ! 
 All were courting the Widow Malone. 
 
 " But so modest was Mrs. Malone, 
 
 'Twas known 
 No one ever could see her alone, 
 
 Ohone ! 
 Let them ogle and sigh, 
 They could ne'er catch her eye, 
 So bashful the Widow Malone, 
 a Ohone ! 
 
 So bashful the Widow Malone. 
 
 " Till one Mr. 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 marry your Mary Malone, 
 
 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 sigh, 
 
 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 cer- 
 tainly her desires as to the chorus were followed to the letter, for 
 " The Widow Malone, ohone !" resounded from one end of the table 
 to the other, amid 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 con- 
 trived 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. 
 
138 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 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'll 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'll think 
 it mighty indelicate in me to make an appointment." 
 
 Power pocketed the card, and the next minute Miss Macan's car- 
 riage was announced. 
 
 Sir George Dashwood, who little flattered himself that his fair 
 guest had any intention of departure, became now most consider- 
 ately 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 seeing her early the following 
 day. 
 
 Notwithstanding Power's ambition to engross the attention 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 V At these words he pulled 
 forth the card, and handed it to Lechmere. 
 
 Scarcely were the eyes of the other thrown upon the writing, when 
 he said, " So, this isn't it, Power." 
 
 " To be sure it is, man," said Power. "Anne street is devilish 
 seedy — but that's the quarter." 
 
 " Why, confound it, man," said the other, " there's not a word of 
 that here." 
 
 " Head 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 enjoy- 
 ing your ball, kissed the lady, quizzed the papa, and walked into the' 
 cunning Fred Power. Yours, 
 
 " Frank Webber. 
 
 " ' The Widow Malone, ohone !' 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, 
 
THE LAST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 139 
 
 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 I" said the General, regarding me with a look of a very 
 mingled cast. 
 
 " Quite true, sir," said I, replying to the accusation that his man- 
 ner 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, burn- 
 ing with indignation against Webber, took a cold farewell of Miss 
 Dashwood, and retired. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE LAST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 
 
 HOW I might have met Master Webber after his impersona- 
 tion of Miss Macan, I cannot possibly figure to myself. For- 
 tunately, indeed, for all parties, he left town early the next 
 morning, and it was some weeks ere he returned. In the mean- 
 while, 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 
 frequently gave his daughter into my charge in our morning excur- 
 sions 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 cir- 
 cumstances served to show me that my attentions to her were nei- 
 
140 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 ther unnoticed nor uncared 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-deception 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 required by the arrival of an officer who had 
 been sent from the Horse Guards on official business. After half 
 an hour's delay, Colonel Cameron, the officer in question, was intro- 
 duced, and entered into conversation with our party. He had only 
 landed in England from the Peninsula a few days before, and had 
 abundant information of the stirring events enacting there. At the 
 conclusion of an anecdote — I forget what — he turned suddenly 
 round to Miss Dashwood, who was standing beside me, and said, in 
 a low voice, — 
 
 " And, now, Miss Dashwood, I am reminded of a commission 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 
 Colonel, and all I saw was, that he handed her a letter, which, hav- 
 ing 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 whirling 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 that 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 
 
THE LAST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 141 
 
 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 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 professing 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 became 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, depress- 
 ing 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 wouldn't 
 have kept me so long there." 
 
 " And have you been so ?" 
 
 " Only twenty minutes, for as I saw the key in tfte 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 fellow, you 
 don't appear altogether awake yet." 
 
 " I have not been quite well these few days." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! The Dashwoods thought there must have been 
 something of that kind the matter, by your brisk retreat. They sent 
 me after you yesterday ; but wherever you went, Heaven knows ! 
 I never could come up with you, so that your great good news has 
 been keeping twenty-four hours longer than need be." 
 
142 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " 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, mail, 
 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 whisky that ever sported a sabretasche. ' Oh love 
 is the soul of an Irish dragoon V 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 powder — 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 supper, I 
 heard from Power that Sir George Dashwood had interested him- 
 self so strongly for me, that I had obtained my cornetcy in the 14th; 
 that, fearful lest any disappointment might arise, he had never 
 mentioned the matter to me, but that he had previously obtained 
 my uncle's promise to concur in the arrangement if his negotiation 
 succeeded. It had done so, and now the long sought-for object of 
 many days was within my grasp. But, alas! the circumstance 
 which lent it fill 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, 
 on finding that I owed my promotion to Sir George, was to return a 
 positive refusal of the cornetcy ; but then I remembered how deeply 
 such conduct 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 deepen- 
 ing in my heart. At eighteen, fortunately, consolations are attain- 
 
THE LAST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 143 
 
 able that become more difficult at eight-and-twenty, and impossible 
 at eiglrt-arid-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 1 felt, there was still within that buoyant spirit which 
 youth possesses 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 my hopes, was 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 of the wildest 
 young fellows in the regiment, had vowed that the leave-taking 
 should be commemorated by some very decisive and open expression 
 of our feelings, and had already made some progress in arrange- 
 ments 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, &c. A funeral pile of classics was 
 arrayed upon the hearth, surmounted by my " Book on the Cellar," 
 and a punishment-roll 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, bright visions of the cam- 
 paign 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 accumu- 
 lated 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. 
 
144 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 A committee of the whole house immediately sat upon the ques- 
 tion, and it was at length resolved, nemine contradicente, that the 
 request should be complied with. A fresh bowl of punch, in honor 
 of our expected guest, was immediately concocted, a new broil 
 put on the gridiron, and, having seated ourselves with as great a 
 semblance of decorum as four bottles a man admits of, Curtis, 
 the junior Captain, being most drunk, was at once deputed to 
 receive the Bursar at the door, and introduce him into 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 was to be ushered in, 
 and left to our own polite attentions. 
 
 A fresh thundering from without scarcely left time for further 
 deliberation ; and at last Curtis moved towards the door, in execu- 
 tion of his mission. 
 
 " Is there any one there ?" said Mike, in a tone of most unsoph- 
 isticated 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 boiling 
 with indignation, " I summon you, in the name of the Board, to 
 admit me." 
 
 " Let the gemman in," hiccupped Curtis ; and at the same instant 
 the heavy bars were withdrawn, and the doors 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 im- 
 mediately turned towards me. 
 
 " Mr. Webber " 
 
 " O'Malley, if you please, Mr. Bursar," said I, bowing with most 
 ceremonious politeness. 
 
 " No matter, sir ; arcades arnbo, I believe." 
 
 " Both Archdeacons," said Melville, translating, with a look of 
 withering contempt upon the speaker. 
 
 The Doctor continued, addressing me : 
 
THE LAST NIGHT IN TRINITY. 145 
 
 " 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 would make." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Bursar," replied I, modestly, " I had begun to natter 
 myself that our little innocent gayety had inspired you with the 
 idea of joining our party." 
 
 " I humbly move that the old cove in the gown do take the chair," 
 gang out one. "All who are of this opinion say 'Aye.' " . A perfect 
 yell of ayes followed this. "All who are of the contrary say ■ No.' 
 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 that 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 V " said Telford, seating himseli 
 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 !" &c, was chorused with a shout that shook 
 the old walls, while Power 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 enacting around him. 
 Held fast in his chair by Lechmere and another, he glowered on the 
 
 * Botany Bay was the slang name given by college men to a new square rather 
 remotely situated from the remainder of the college. 
 10 
 
146 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 riotous mob around like a maniac, and astonishment that such lib- 
 erties could be taken with one in his situation seemed to have sur- 
 passed 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 calcu- 
 lated to inspire. 
 
 " So you're the morning lecturer, old gentleman, and have just 
 dropped 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'll 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," hiccupped 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 yet it's 
 devilish convivial — eh, Doctor?" 
 
 "Is that like him?" said Moreton, producing a caricature, which 
 he had just sketched. 
 
 " Capital — very good — perfect. M'Cleary shall have it in his win- 
 dow by noon to-day," said Power. 
 
 At this instant some of the combustibles disposed among the re- 
 jected habiliments of my late vocation caught fire, and squibs, crack- 
 ers, and detonating shots went off on all sides. The Bursar, who 
 had not been deaf to several hints and friendly suggestions about 
 setting fire to him, blowing him up, &c, with one vigorous spring 
 burst from his antagonists, 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 chambers, by about twenty 
 yards in advance of Power and Melville, whose pursuit only ended 
 when the oaken panel of the door shut them 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 regiment of 
 those classic functionaries yclept porters had assembled around the 
 door, and seemed bent upon giving battle in honor of their mal- 
 treated ruler ; but Power explained to them, in a neat speech, replete 
 with Latin quotations, that their cause was a weak one, that we were 
 
THE PIICENIX PARK. 147 
 
 more than their match, and, finally, proposed to them to finish the 
 punch-bowl — to which we were really incompetent — a motion 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 caricature 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. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXI. 
 
 THE PHCENIX 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 separates misery from happiness, is 
 ecstasy itself; and, then, what a world of bright visions come teem- 
 ing before us — what plans we form — what promises we make to our- 
 selves 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, oi 
 which all our after years are insufficient to eradicate the prestige a 
 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 illumes 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, des- 
 tined 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 pro- 
 
148 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 phecy, 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, with all the delusive and deceptive influences by which 
 it comes surrounded, for the greatest actual happiness he has par- 
 taken 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 choicest blessings in life come even so associated 
 with some sources of care, that the cup of enjoyment is not pure, 
 but dregged in bitterness. 
 
 To such a world of bright anticipation did I awake on the morn- 
 ing after the events I have detailed in my last chapter. The 
 first thing my eyes fell upon was an oflicial letter from the Horse 
 Guards : — 
 
 " The Commander of the Forces desires that Mr. O'Malley will 
 report himself, immediately on receipt of this letter, at the head- 
 quarters 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 Considine's 
 handwriting. How my heart failed me as I turned to look at the 
 seal. " Thank God I" said I, aloud, on perceiving 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 appoint- 
 ment to the 14th, notwithstanding all his prejudices about the army, 
 has given him sincere pleasure. I believe, between ourselves, that 
 your college 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 you. 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 un- 
 usually low-spirited, and talks about never seeing you again, and all 
 that sort of thing. 
 
 " I have written to Merivale, your colonel, on this subject, as well 
 
THE PIKENIX PARK. 149 
 
 as generally on your behalf; we were cornets together forty years 
 ago ; a strict fellow you'll 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. CONSIDINE. 
 
 " I had thought of writing you a long letter of advice for yous 
 new career, and, indeed, half accomplished one. After all, however, 
 I can 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 the 
 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 expression. 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, &c, that fell harmlessly 
 upon my ears. I accepted the invitation ; declined the apology ; 
 and, having ordered my horse, cantered off to the barracks to con- 
 sult my friend Power as to all the minor details of my career. 
 
 As the dinner hour drew 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 dis- 
 closing in my manner the altered state of my feelings — a possibility 
 which 1 now dreaded fully as much as I had longed some days before 
 to avow my affection for her, however slight its prospects of return. 
 All my valiant resolves, and well-contrived plans for appearing un- 
 moved 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 exclusively 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 re- 
 gards me in her esteem, and I must not spend my days sighing for a 
 young lady that cares for another." Very reasonable, very proper 
 resolutions these ; but, alas ! I went home to bed only to think half 
 
150 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 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 1 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 I" 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 uni- 
 form, outfit, &c, were undertaken for me by Power. My horses 
 were sent for to Galway, and I myself, with innumerable persons to 
 see, and a mass of business to transact, contrived, at least three times 
 a day, to ride out to the Royal Hospital, always to make some trifling 
 inquiry for Sir George, and always to hear repeated that Miss Dash- 
 wood had not returned. 
 
 Thus passed five of my last six days in Dublin, and as the morn- 
 ing 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-bye. 
 
 While Mike was packing in one corner, and I in another was con- 
 cluding 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 achievement at Sir George's very 
 nearly involved me in a serious scrape." 
 
 " A mere trifle. How confoundedly silly Power must have looked, 
 eh ? Should have liked 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. 
 
THE PJIGIXIX PABK. 151 
 
 " I'm thinking of cultivating her a little," said Webber, pulling 
 up his cravat and adjusting hi* 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'm going to be very great friends with him and Lucy. 
 Where are you going now ?" 
 
 " I'm about to try a new horse before troops," said I. " He's 
 staunch enough with the cry of the fox-pack in his ears, but I don't 
 know how he'll stand a peal of artillery." 
 
 "Well, come along," said Webber ; " I'll ride with you." So say- 
 ing, we mounted and set off to the Park, where two regiments of 
 cavalry and some horse artillery 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 advance, 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 ?" 
 
 " Whom do you mean ?" said I. 
 
 " Sir George Dashwood, to be sure, and, la voild, Miss 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 natter ourselves the thing does not present 
 any very considerable difficulties." 
 
 " As how, pray ?" 
 
 " Why, of course, like all such matters, a very decisive determina- 
 tion 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'll believe it in the end. Tell her that 
 you have not the slightest prospect of obtaining her affection, but 
 still persist in loving her. That, finally, you must die from the 
 effects of despair, &c, but rather like the notion of it than other- 
 
152 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 wise. That you know she has no fortune ; that you haven't a six- 
 pence ; 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 obstinacy. If 
 you like to say good-bye to the little girl without a witness, I'll take 
 off the he-dragon." 
 
 " You don't mean " 
 
 " I do, man — I do mean it." So saying, he drew a crimson silk 
 handkerchief from his pocket, and fastened it round his waist like 
 an officer's sash. This done, and telling me to keep in their wake 
 for some minutes, he turned from me, and was soon concealed by a 
 copse of whitethorn near us. 
 
 I hadn't 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, curveting and playing all species of 
 antics. The distance between the General and myself was now so 
 short, that I overheard the following dialogue with his orderly : 
 
 " 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 dashing spurs 
 into his horse, he sprang forward at a gallop, incensed beyond en- 
 durance that his most strict orders should be so openly and insult- 
 ingly transgressed. 
 
 Webber led on to a deep hollow, where the road passed between 
 
THE PHCENIX PAIiK. 153 
 
 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 min- 
 ute 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 forward, and in 
 an instant was alongside of Miss Dashwood. 
 
 Her astonishment at seeing me so suddenly, increased the confu- 
 sion from which I felt myself suffering, and for some minutes I 
 could scarcely speak. At last I plucked up courage a little, and 
 said, — 
 
 " Miss Dashwood, 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-bye." 
 
 " 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 — perKaps 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 immense 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." 
 
 " Why, what can you mean ? Has anything so serious occurred?" 
 
 " No, no ; I'm but misleading you, and exciting your sympathy 
 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, 
 
154 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 the utter despair, that awaits such a sentiment. My own heart tells 
 me that I am not, cannot be, loved in return ; 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, compassion. 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 ex- 
 pressions I now use are prompted by a mere sudden ebullition of boy- 
 ish 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 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 tc 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 Adju- 
 tant-General, so that I started for Cork the next morning, 
 with no other companion than my servant Mike. For 
 the first few stages upon the road, my own thoughts sufficiently 
 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 audi- 
 tory 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 acquaintances., I began to perceive, were not exactly of 
 
THE ROAD. 155 
 
 the same nature as Dibdin is reported to have rendered to our navy 
 in the late war. Far from it ; his theme was no contemptuous dis- 
 dain 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 enemies ; 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 dan- 
 gers, its vicissitudes, 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 exchanged 
 between the victims, that certainly betokened anything save the 
 resolve to fight for King George. It was at the close of a long and 
 most powerful appeal upon the superiority of any other line of 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 amongst 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 wasn'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, faix, when my father seen that 
 they didn't know their own minds, he thought, anyhow, he knew 
 his, so he ran away, and devil a bit of him they ever cotch afther. 
 Maybe 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 company, 
 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, 
 1 Phil,' says he, ' it's not a soldier ye'll 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 under- 
 stand 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 
 
156" CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 regi- 
 ment was ordered down to Bantry, because of a report 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 cowld and died ; 
 more by token, they said it was drink, but my father says it wasn't ; 
 ' for,' says he, ' after he tuk eight tumblers comfortable,' my father 
 mixed the ninth, and the Captain waved 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 divarsion ; and a 
 kind man he was — when he was drunk. Well, then, when the Cap- 
 tain 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, isn't this hard ?' said my father. Here I am, an ould 
 vitrin that ought to be discharged on a pension, with two-and-six- 
 pence a day, obliged to go capering about the barrack-yard, prac- 
 tising 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, hadn'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 coming down 
 from the Gap of Mulnavick to storm the town and burn all before 
 them. The whole regiment was of course under arms, and great 
 preparations were made for a battle. Meanwhile, patrols were or- 
 dered to scour the roads, and sentries 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 ROAD. 157 
 
 the wildest and bleakest part of the whole country, with nothing hut 
 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 whisky- 
 shop within ten miles of him ; ' cowld comfort,' says he, ' on a win- 
 ter'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 ruminate upon 
 his affairs. 
 
 " ' Oh, then, it's wishing it well I am/ says he, ' for sodgering ; 
 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 that?' 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 1' says my 
 father, putting his pipe in his mouth again, for he thought all was 
 over. 
 
 " D — n your soul, where are you ?' says the General, for sorra 
 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 wasn't for the pipe I'd be lost entirely.' 
 
 " The words wasn't well out of his mouth when the General began 
 laughing till ye'd think he'd fall off his horse ; and the dragoon be- 
 hind 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. 
 
158 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " ' I'm sorry for it/ says my father, sorrowfully, l for maybe they'll 
 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. When- 
 ever 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'll 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 respects 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 mountain was 
 quite dark already, when my father began to think they were for- 
 getting 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, and daren't go for the bare life. ' I'll give 
 you 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'll be off, av 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 General 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'll 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 
 wasn't well there, when the officer pulled up his horse quite short, 
 and shouted out, ' Sentry ! sentry !' 
 
 " ' Anan?' said my father, still covering him. 
 
THE ROAD. 159 
 
 " ' 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 doesn't go off of itself.' 
 
 " ' What do you mean by that, you villain ?' 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, f- Blood an' ages ! do 
 you want me to fire next?' 
 
 " With that the General drew a pistol from his holster, and took 
 deliberate aim at my father ; and there they both stood for five min- 
 utes, 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 purpose, 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.' 
 
 " ' Port arms !' shouted the General, as if on parade. 
 
 " ' Sure I can't, till yer past,' says my father, angrily, ' and my 
 hand's 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 wasn'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 wasn'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 desti- 
 nation, under a strong escort of infantry. For ourselves, we reached 
 the " beautiful city" in due time, and took up our quarters at the 
 Old George Hotel. 
 
1G0 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 CORK. 
 
 THE undress rehearsal of a new piece, with its dirty-booted 
 actors, its cloaked and hooded actresses en papillote, bears 
 about the same relation to the gala, wax-lit, and bespangled 
 ballet as the raw young gentleman of yesterday to the epauletted, 
 belted, and sabretasched dragoon, whose transformation is due to a 
 few hours of headquarters, and a few interviews with the adjutant. 
 
 So, at least, I felt it ; and it was with a very perfect concurrence 
 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 Dalrymple had been on the staff from the 
 commencement of his military career — had served in the Commis- 
 sariat for some time — was much on foreign stations, but never, by 
 any of the many casualties of his life, had seen what could be called 
 service. His idea of the soldier's profession was, therefore, what 
 might almost be as readily picked up by a commission in the battle-axe 
 guards, as one in his Majesty's 50th. He was now a species of distinct 
 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 manifold 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 all work. No sooner did a young en- 
 sign join his regiment at Cork, than Major Dalrymple'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 in- 
 experienced 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, some- 
 how, no officer above the rank of an ensign was ever to be met there. 
 It was not that he had not a large acquaintance ; in fact, the "How 
 are you, Major?" — " How goes it, Dalrymple?" that kept everlast- 
 ingly going on as he walked the streets, proved the reverse ; but, 
 
CORK. 161 
 
 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 con- 
 duct were two-fold. 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 magasin of these articles, but he had so completely 
 interwoven his interests with those of numerous shopkeepers in 
 Cork, that he rarely entered a shop over whose door Dalrymple and 
 Co. might not have figured on the signboard. His stables were 
 filled with a perfect infirmary of superannuated chargers, fattened 
 and conditioned up to a miracle, and groomed to perfection. 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 yesterday in his walks ; in fact, why want 
 for anything ? His resources were inexhaustible — his kindness un- 
 bounded. 
 
 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 con- 
 ferred, 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 Fitzroy Somerset or Picton, from the Isle of Wight to 
 Halifax, from Cape Coast to Chatham, from Belfast to the Bermudas. 
 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 quar- 
 ters ? In plain words, the Major's solicitude for the service was such 
 that, not content with providing the young officer with all the neces- 
 sary outfit of his profession, he longed also to supply him with a 
 comforter for his woes, a charmer for his solitary hours, in the per- 
 son of one of his amiable daughters. Unluckily, however, the ne- 
 cessity for a wife is not enforced by " general orders," as is the cut 
 of your coat, or the length of your sabre ; consequently, 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 kettles, 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 unhappy ; in need of consolation ; 
 never meeting with the kindred spirit that understood her ; destined 
 11 
 
1#2 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 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 Cow- 
 ley, and told him with tears in her eyes, — 
 
 "There are hearts that live and love alone," &c. 
 
 I'm assured that this coup de grace rarely failed in being followed 
 by a downright avowal of open love, which, somehow, what between 
 the route coming, what with waiting for leave from home, &c, never 
 got further than a most tender scene, and exchange of love tokens ; 
 in fact, such became so often the termination, that Powers swears 
 Matty had to make a firm resolve about cutting off any more hair, 
 fearing a premature baldness during the recruiting season. 
 
 Now, 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 gaie'te' de cosur that never fails to charm. 
 While her sister's style was il penseroso, 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 physiologi- 
 cal 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 arrange- 
 ment, proceeding upon that principle which has wrought such won- 
 ders 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, interference 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, perhaps, why the worthy Major allied his 
 fortunes with hers, for she was evidently of a very inferior rank in 
 
CORK. 163 
 
 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 speculation of her luckless husband, 
 the forlorn fortunes of her daughters, kept her in occupation ; and her 
 days were passed in one perpetual, unceasing current of dissatisfac- 
 tion and ill-temper with all around, that formed a heavy counter- 
 poise 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 admoni- 
 tion from Mrs. Dalrymple. Hints, at first dimly shadowed, that 
 Matilda was not in spirits this morning ; that Fanny, poor child, 
 had a headache, — directed especially at the culprit in question, — 
 grew gradually into those little motherly fondnesses in mamma, 
 that, like the fascinations of the rattlesnake, only lure on to ruin. 
 The doomed man was pressed to dinner when all others were per- 
 mitted 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 pro- 
 posals of the most flattering kind were coming constantly before 
 him. Then followed a fresh bottle, during which the Major would 
 consult 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 generally a coup 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. Now, 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 miserable career of intrigue and man- 
 trap, and yet nothing come of it? But so it was. The first question 
 a newly-landed regiment was asked, if coming where they resided, 
 was, " Well, how are the girls?" " Oh, gloriously. Matty is there." 
 "Ah, indeed! poor thing!" "Has Fan sported a new habit V 
 
164 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "Is it the old gray, with the hussar braiding? Confound it, that 
 was seedy when I saw them in Corfu. And is Mother Dal as fat 
 and vulgar as ever f " Dawson of ours was the last, and was called 
 up for sentence when we were ordered away : of course he bolted," 
 &c. Such was the invariable style of question and answer con- 
 cerning them ; and although some few, either from good feeling or 
 fastidiousness, relished but little the mode in which it had become 
 habitual to treat them, I grieve to say that, generally, they were 
 pronounced fair game for every species of flirtation and love-mak- 
 ing, without any " intentions" for the future. I should not have 
 trespassed so far upon my readers' patience, were I not, in recount- 
 ing 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-faced 
 gentleman, in a short jacket and ducks, " you are, I perceive, ap- 
 pointed 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 your pardon, a Carbineer ; 
 but no matter. Mr. O'Malley — Mr. Minchin ; Captain Dounie — 
 Mr, O'Malley. You'll dine with us to-day, and to-morrow you 
 shall be entered 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 re- 
 ceived my gazette unexpectedly enough." 
 
 "Ever in Cork before, Mr. O'Malley?" 
 
 "Never," said I. 
 
 " Glorious place !" lisped a white-eyelashed, knock-kneed Ensign ; 
 " splendid gals, eh ?" 
 
 " 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 haven'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'll 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 inten- 
 tions afterwards." 
 
THE ADJUTANT'S DINNER. 165 
 
 " 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 exclu- 
 sively devoted to their own separate and immediate topics 
 than were we. Pipeclay in all its varieties 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 quar- 
 ters, 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 Adju- 
 tant himself, and Major Dalrymple ; the oi polloi consisting of the 
 raw Ensign, a newly-fledged Cornet (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 suc- 
 ceeded in engaging the three juniors of the party to tea, having 
 previously pledged us to purchase nothing whatever of outfit with- 
 out 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). 
 
 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 humbug, the Adjutant a sot, and the 
 Major himself I greatly suspected to be an old rogue. 
 
166 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " You are coming with us, Sparks ?" said Major Dalrymple, 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 Mr. Sparks, with a very nattered expres- 
 sion 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, &c. 
 
 " How pleasant to get away from these fellows!" said the Major; 
 " they are so uncommonly prosy, That Commissary, 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'll get you one each to-morrow 
 for five pounds ; no, five pounds ten : the same thing — that will see 
 you all through the Peninsula. Kemind 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'll be wanting something of that kind, if we can find 
 it out for you." 
 
 "Many thanks, Major, but my cattle are on the way h«re 
 already. I've only three horses, but I think they are tolerably 
 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 it, 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 hundred could not buy it. 
 Here we are; come along — no ceremony. Mind the two steps; 
 that's it. Mrs. Dalrymple, Mr. O'Malley ; Mr. Sparks, Mr. Burton, 
 my daughters. Is tea over, girls ?" 
 
 " Why, papa, it's near eleven o'clock," said Fanny, as she 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 ab- 
 straction, 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 justi- 
 fiable. 
 
 While my confrere Mr. Sparks was undergoing his examination, I 
 had time to look at the ladies, whom I was much surprised at find- 
 
THE ADJUTANT'S DINNER. 107 
 
 ing so very well-looking ; and as the Ensign had opened a conver- 
 sation 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 succeed, whether discussing a question of law or medi- 
 cine, with a learned professor of either ; or, what is still more diffi- 
 cult, canvassing the merits of a preacher, or a doctrine, with a seri- 
 ous 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 practice to regale his friends every 
 evening made its appearance, we had established a perfect under- 
 standing 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. Sparks had 
 booked himself as purchaser of military stores enough to make the 
 campaign of the whole globe, and we were thus all evidently fulfil- 
 ling 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 to do so, we only pressed 
 the more. How invariably, 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 cantzque. Say what you will, these 
 
168 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 were very jovial little reunions. The girls were decidedly very pretty. 
 We were in high favor, and when we took leave at the door, with a 
 very cordial shake hands, it was with no arrtere pens6e 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 
 ct noir, can possibly lounge through the long hours of his day with- 
 out at least fancying himself in love ? The thousand little occupa- 
 tions it suggests become a necessity of existence ; its very worries 
 are like the wholesome opposition that purines and strengthens the 
 frame of a free state. Then, what is there half so sweet as the re- 
 flective 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 confounded bump of self-esteem does it all, and has more 
 imprudent matches to answer for than all the occipital protuber- 
 ances that ever scared poor Harriet Martineau. 
 
 Now, 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 character 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 boating excursion to 
 Cove ; sometimes a picnic at Foaty ; now a rowing party to Glan- 
 mire, or a ride, at which I furnished the cavalry. These doings 
 were all under my especial direction, and I thus became speedily 
 the organ of the Dalrymple family ; and the simple phrase, "It was 
 Mr. O'Malley's arrangement," " Mr. O'Malley wished it," was like 
 the "Moi le roi" of Louis XIV. 
 
 Though all this while we continued to carry on most pleasantly, 
 Mrs. Dalrymple, I could perceive, did not entirely sympathize with 
 our projects of amusement. As an experienced engineer might feel, 
 
THE ENTANGLEMENT. 169 
 
 ■when watching the course of some storming projectile — some bril- 
 liant congreve — flying over a besieged fortress, yet never touching 
 the walls, nor harming the inhabitants, so she looked on all these 
 demonstrations of attack with no small impatience, and wondered 
 when the breach would 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 minia- 
 ture 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. Ma- 
 tilda 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 
 intentions — it is certainly one or the other ; but then we have a right 
 to know which. Such was a very condensed view of Mrs. Dalrym- 
 ple's reflections on this 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 prepara- 
 tions 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 I 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 inquiry ; " I've 
 been spending the evening with 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 ?" 
 
 "Well, if you must know, I've been supping at a Major Dalrym- 
 ple'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, reflectively 
 
 "Who?" said I. 
 
 " Matilda and Fanny, to be sure." 
 
 " Why, you know them, then?" 
 
 " I should think I do." 
 
170 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 u Where have you met them ?" 
 
 " Where have I not ? When I was in the Eifles, they were quar- 
 tered 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. They then left for Gibral- 
 tar, 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 maybe I'll 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 St. George, but that tickles you also ! Why, zounds, if I 
 go on, probably, at this rate, I'll find a tender spot occupied by the 
 black lady herself." 
 
 It was no use concealing, or attempting to conceal, anything from 
 my inquisitive friend ; so I mixed my grog, and opened my whole 
 heart ; told how I had been conducting myself for the entire pre- 
 ceding fortnight ; and, when I concluded, 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 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." 
 
THE ENTANGLEMENT. 171 
 
 " 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 1 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 officer 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 fighting 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'Malley, late 
 
 of his Majesty's 14th Dragoons, and Dairy mple, spinster, of 
 
 this city " 
 
 "I'll 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 dear fellow — pull me through, 
 without doing anything to hurt the girls' feelings." 
 
 " Well, we'll see about it," said he — " we'll 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 ruse remains untried. It is of no use pleading that your 
 family won't consent — 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 subject to periodical fits of insanity ; monomaniacal 
 tendencies to cut somebody's throat, &c. Bless your heart, man, 
 they have soul above such littlenesses. They care nothing for con- 
 sent of friends, means, age, health, climate, prospects, or temper. 
 Firmly believing matrimony to be a lottery, they are not supersti- 
 tious about the number they pitch upon ; provided only that they 
 get a ticket, they are content." 
 
 u 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 Vick- 
 ers was the hero of that affair. It was right well planned, too. One 
 
172 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 of the letters was suffered, by mere accident, to fall into Mrs. Dai's 
 hands, and she was quite prepared for the event, when he was re- 
 ported 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 ano- 
 ther 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 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 in- 
 teresting babes ?" 
 
 " No go — only swell the damages, when they come to prosecute. 
 Besides, your age and looks forbid the assumption of such a fact. 
 No, no ; we must go deeper to work. v 
 
 " But where shall we go ?" said I, impatiently ; " for it appears to 
 me these good people have been treated to every trick and subter- 
 fuge that ever ingenuity suggested." 
 
 " Come, I think I have it ; but it will need a little more reflection. 
 So, now, let us to bed. I'll 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." 
 
 CHAPTEE 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 breakfast. 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 pis aller, of which 
 I knew not the meaning, 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, why, 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 meas- 
 ure. "What is it?" 
 
 He paused, smiled dubiously, and resumed, — 
 
THE PREPARATION. 173 
 
 " 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 Admi- 
 ralty say that nothing encourages drowning 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'll 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 re- 
 sources 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." 
 
 "And is this 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 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 sport- 
 ing 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'll 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 reached them. It was 
 exactly noon as I sounded my loud and now well-known sum- 
 mons 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 servi- 
 tor of the house, to say that I wished particularly to see Mrs. Dal- 
 rymple for a few minutes, if the hour were not inconvenient. 
 
 There was something perhaps of excitement in my manner — some 
 
174 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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, that 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 quick but 
 satisfactory glance round the apartment, to assure himself that w T e 
 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 evi- 
 dently was so engrossed by his reflections 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 narratives, 
 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, who is less steeped in crime, less har- 
 dened in iniquity than his fellows, has ventured for his rescue. 
 Sometimes, according to the taste of the narrator, the interest- 
 ing individual is an old woman, sometimes a young one, some- 
 times a black-bearded bandit, sometimes a child, and not unfre- 
 quently 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 almost invariably takes 
 the hint, and gets off scot free for his sharpness. This never- 
 varying trick on the doomed man I had often been skeptical enough 
 to suspect ; 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 its neck. Many a little occasion had presented itself, 
 during my intimacy with the family, of doing Matthew some small 
 services, of making him some trifling presents, so that, when he 
 assumed before me the gesture and look I have mentioned, I was 
 not long in deciphering his intentions. 
 
 " Matthew !" screamed a sharp voice, which I recognized at 
 
THE PREPARATION. 175 
 
 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 cir- 
 cumstances of my story can explain its force, or my reader's own 
 ingenious ima'gination 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, settling on his wig in preparation 
 for his appearance in the drawing-room. 
 
 " Matthew ! the old wretch !" 
 
 " Mr. O'Malley," said the often-called Matthew, as, opening the 
 door, he announced me unexpectedly among the ladies there assem- 
 bled, who, not hearing of my approach, were evidently not a little 
 surprised and astonished. 
 
 Had I really been the enamored swain that the Dalrymple 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 statu- 
 ary, was, in the most slatternly and slipshod attire, pacing the room 
 in a towering rage, at some thing, place, or person, unknown to me. 
 If the ballet-master at the Acad6mie 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. Before my 
 eyes had gained 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, partly to cover the retreat of the main 
 body, partly, too, because — representing the baggage- wagons, 
 ammunition stores, hospital staff, &c. — her retirement from the 
 field demanded more time and circumspection than the light 
 brigade. 
 
 Let not my readers suppose that the mere Dalrymple was so per- 
 fectly 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 reso- 
 lutely lurk behind till the last flutter of the last petticoat assured 
 her that the fugitives were safe. Then did she hesitate for a moment 
 
176 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 what course to take; but as I assumed my chair besido hor, she 
 composedly sat down, and, crossing her hands before her, waited i'or 
 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 mistaking Mrs. Dalrymple for a field-officer in'the new regu- 
 lation dress — the philibeg 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 
 ineffectual efforts upon 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 dishabille, &c, 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 a,n early call." 
 
 " The Racehorse surely can't sail to-morrow," said Mrs. Dalrym- 
 ple, whose experience of such matters made her a very competent 
 judge ; " her stores " 
 
 "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. Dalrymple, 
 with a very peculiar emphasis, and evidently desiring that I should 
 inquire the reasons of this anxiety. I, however, most heroically for- 
 bore 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 pronounced it a full hour later than it really was, and, 
 promising 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 ex- 
 pected to open upon me. 
 
THE SUPPER. 177 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE SUPPER. 
 
 POWER and I dined together tete-a-tete at the hotel, and sat 
 chatting over my adventures with the Dalrymplcs till nearly 
 nine o'clock. 
 
 " Come, Charley," said he at length, " I see your eye wandering 
 very often towards the timepiece ; another bumper, and I'll 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 satisfactory 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 mul- 
 tiplied into any given number of gentlemen standing amid some- 
 thing 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 involuntarily 
 closing. 
 
 " You'll not let them double on you !" 
 
 " Trust me, old boy," said I, endeavoring to look knowing. 
 
 "I think you'll do," said he; "so now march; I'll wait for you 
 here, and we'll go on board together ; for old Bloater, the skipper, 
 says he'll certainly weigh by daybreak." 
 
 "Till then," said I, as, opening the door, I proceeded very 
 cautiously to descend the stairs, affecting all the time considerable 
 •nonchalance, and endeavoring, as well as my thickened utterance 
 would permit, to hum, — 
 
 " Oh love is the soul of an 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 ex- 
 citement. Time and space are nothing to a man thus enlightened, 
 and so they appeared to me. 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 
 12 
 
178 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 madonna 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 judg- 
 ment, 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. 
 
 Parlez-moi de I'amitie', my friends. Talk to me of the warm embrace 
 of your earliest friend, after years of absence; 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 opportunity 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 gentle- 
 man with the loaded detonator opposite won't fire — that he feels he's 
 in the wrong. Any or all of these together, very effective and pow- 
 erful 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. Dal- 
 rymple, 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 contented myself 
 with a very intelligible look at Fanny, and a tender squeeze of 
 Matilda'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 vieing 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 remem- 
 
THE SUPPER. 179 
 
 bered 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, amid 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 con- 
 trived it I know not, I immediately saddled him with the whole of 
 my annoyances, and attributed to him and to his fault any embar- 
 rassment 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 there are certain peo- 
 ple, certain faces, certain voices, certain whiskers, legs, waistcoats, 
 and guard-chains, that inevitably produce the most striking effects 
 upon the brain of a gentleman already excited by wine, and not 
 exactly cognizant of his own peculiar fallacies. 
 
 These effects are not produced merely among those who are quar- 
 relsome 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'll 
 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. 
 
180 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 Nothing, however, was further from poor Sparks, who began to 
 think lie had been unconsciously drinking tea with five lunatics. 
 
 " If he supposes," sai'd I, rising from my chair, " that his silence 
 will pass with, me as any palliation " 
 
 " Oh dear ! oh dear ! there will be a duel. Papa, dear, why don't 
 you speak to Mr. O'Mallcy ?" 
 
 " There, now, 0" 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 anything 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 sufficiently recovered to defend himself. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Sparks!" 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Sparks !" 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Sparks !" chorused 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 sin- 
 cerely sorry for it." 
 
 ".That will do, sir," said I with a look of royal condescension 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 harmony 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 fashioned 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 disap- 
 peared. 
 
 By degrees I felt myself more and more disposed to turn my 
 attention towards Matilda, and dropping my voice into a lower tone, 
 opened a flirtation of a most determined kind. Fanny had, mean- 
 while, assumed a place beside Sparks, and, by the muttered tones 
 
THE SUPPER. 181 
 
 that passed between them, I could plainly perceive they were simi- 
 larly occupied. The Major took up the Southern Reporter, of which 
 he appeared deep in the contemplation, while Mrs. Dal buried her 
 head in her embroidery, and neither saw nor heard 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. 
 
 "Matilda's mine," replied I, with the look of an emperor. 
 
 "A word with you, Major," said Sparks, his eye flashing with en- 
 thusiasm, and his cheek scarlet — " one word : I'll 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 couldn'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, a« 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 whatsoever 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. 
 
 11 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 Dalrymple'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 embraced 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 sentiment evidently participated in by Sparks, who 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, 
 
182 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 in his original work upon dinner-giving, " and everything goes on 
 well." Now, Major Dalrymple, without having read the authority 
 in question, probably because it was not written at the time, under- 
 stood the principle fully as well as the police magistrate, and cer- 
 tainly 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 dtgag6 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 habitut of the house could have read our fate. 
 
 We ate, we drank, we ogled, smiled, squeezed hands beneath 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 resolve to marry my fair neighbor, and 
 settle upon her a considerably larger part of my native county than 
 I had ever even ridden over. Sparks, on the other side, had opened 
 his fire more cautiously ; but whether taking courage from my bold- 
 ness, or perceiving with envy the greater estimation I was held in, 
 he was now going the pace fully as fast as myself, and had com- 
 menced explanations of his intentions with regard to Fanny that 
 evidently satisfied her friends. Meanwhile, the wine was passing 
 very freely, and the hints half uttered an hour before began now to 
 be more openly spoken and canvassed. 
 
 Sparks and I hob-nobbed across the table, and looked unspeak- 
 able 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 " 
 
THE SUPPER. 183 
 
 " I sec — I understand perfectly," interrupted I, whose passion for 
 conducting the whole affair myself was gradually 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'll 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'll, then, in his presence, avow our present and unalterable 
 determination as regards your fair daughters ; and as the time is 
 short " 
 
 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 ?" 
 
 "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'll 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. He was 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, upon a sofa; Matilda went 
 off into strong hysterics 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 was I at the sudden catastrophe 
 I had so innocently caused, I should have waited in due patience 
 
184 CHARLES O'MALEEY. 
 
 for the Major's return, had not Sparks seized my arm, and cried 
 out, — 
 
 " Eun 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 fur- 
 ther movements ; so 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 a* a ghost, and trem- 
 bling 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 for 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 pro- 
 ceeded to collect his cloaks, cane, &c, and get ready for departure. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 WHEN I awoke from the long, sound sleep which succeeded 
 my last adventure, I had some difficulty in remembering 
 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 head- 
 lands 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 
 
THE VOYAGE. 185 
 
 of sea-store, cloaks, foraging-caps, maps, and sword-belts, were scat- 
 tered on every side — while the debris of a dinner, not over remark- 
 able for its propriety in table equipage, added to the ludicrous effect. 
 The heavy tramp of a foot overhead denoted the step of some one 
 taking his short walk of exercise ; while the rough voice of the 
 Skipper, as he gave the word to " Go about I" all convinced me that 
 we were at last under weigh, 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 anything about it only 
 increased my difficulty, and I felt myself in a web so tangled and 
 inextricable, that all endeavors to escape free was impossible. Some- 
 times I thought that I had really married Matilda Dalrymple ; then 
 I supposed that the father had called me out, and wounded me in a 
 duel ; and finally, I had some confused notion about a quarrel 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 
 inquiry, 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, &c, and whether he himself had been forgotten 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-lad- 
 der, 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, op- 
 posite 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 ache well : 
 From Carrickfergus to Cape Clear, 
 
 I'll never see your equal. 
 And though to foreign parts we're bound, 
 
 Where cannibals may ate us, 
 We'll ne'er forget the holy ground 
 Of poteen and potatoes. 
 
 Moddirederoo aroo, aroo, &c. 
 
186 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " When good St. Patrick banished frogs, 
 
 And shook them from his garment, 
 He never thought we'd go abroad, 
 
 To live upon such varmint, 
 Nor quit the land where whisky grew, 
 
 To wear King George's button, 
 Take vinegar for mountain dew, 
 
 And toads for mountain mutton. 
 
 Moddirederoo aroo, aroo," Ac. 
 
 " 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 himself has 
 enough of glory — bad luck to it ! — by this time. He'd make your 
 heart break to look at him." 
 
 " Who 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 ?" * 
 
 "No, sir, another Major; his name is Mulroon, or Mundoon, 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 Commissariat, 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 confounded rocking and pitch- 
 ing ; 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." 
 
 " O'Malley — your good health — good night." 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. 
 
THE VOYAGE. 187 
 
 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 attuned as was my mind at the moment to admire anything 
 like scenery, it was impossible to be unmoved by the magnificent 
 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 Kin- 
 sale, whose crest, overhanging, peered from a summit of some hun- 
 dred feet into the deep water 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 a fisherman, whose swift hookers had more than once shot 
 by us, and disappeared in a moment. The wind, which began to 
 fall at sunset, freshened as the moon rose ; and the good ship, bend- 
 ing to the breeze, lay gently over, and rushed through the water 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 unin- 
 terrupted. 
 
 My 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 sunk within me as I remembered it. How deeply I 
 reproached myself for the selfish impetuosity with which I had ever 
 followed any rising fancy, any new and sudden desire, and never 
 thought of him whose every hope was in, whose every wish was for 
 me. Alas I my poor uncle! how gladly would I resign every pros- 
 pect 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 syren 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 memories called up, our childish 
 feelings come back once more to visit us, like better spirits, as 
 
188 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 we walk amid the dreary desolation that years of care and un~ 
 easiness have spread around us. 
 
 Wretched must be he 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 de- 
 voted 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 sud- 
 denly 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 sound in ques- 
 tion proceeded. I walked gently forward, and peeped in, and cer- 
 tainly anything more in contrast with my late reverie need not be 
 conceived. There sat the Skipper, a bluff, round-faced, jolly-looking 
 little tar, mixing a bowl of punch at the 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 regiment. 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 judge from the 
 hearty bursts of laughter that every moment pealed 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 anticipation, — no lovely 
 wife behind — no charming babes to fret, and be fretted for, eh?" 
 
 " Vara true," said the Doctor, who was mated with a tartar. " Ye 
 maun hae less regrets at leavin' hame ; but a married man is no' 
 entirely denied his ain 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 
 
THE VOYAGE. 189 
 
 something working in his mind — " I say, now, how happened 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 
 ascendency ; you have a kind of success that renders you, as the 
 French say, tele montee, and you think no woman rich enough, or 
 good-looking enough, or high enough." 
 
 " No ; by Jove, you're wrong," said the Adjutant, swallowing the 
 baifr, hook and all — " quite wrong there ; for, somehow, all my life I 
 was decidedly susceptible. Not that I cared much for your blush- 
 ing 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 embonpoint, a good foot 
 and ankle, a sensible breadth about the shoulders " 
 
 " Somewhat Dutch-like, I take it," said the Skipper, puffing 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 introduction 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 further, and as you sit one day over your wine with papa, 
 he certainly promulgates the fact that his daughter has five thou- 
 sand pounds, two of which turn out to be in Mexican bonds and 
 three in an Irish mortgage." 
 
190 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Happy for yon," interrupted Tower, "that it be not in Oahvay, 
 where a proposal to foreelose would be a signal for your being called 
 out, and shot without benefit of clergy." 
 
 " Bad luck to it, for Gal way," 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 doubt- 
 ing his word too." 
 
 " There's an old formula for finding out an Irish fortune," says 
 Power, " worth all the algebra they ever taught in 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 — linen - 
 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'll 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. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE ADJUTANT'S STORY — LIFE IN DERBY. 
 
 IT is now about eight, maybe ten, years since we were ordered 
 to march from Belfast, and take up our quarters in London- 
 derry. 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 cam- 
 paign in the maiden city, exactly as we had been doing with ' un- 
 paralleled success' in Cashel, Fermoy, Tuam, &c. — 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 
 
THE ADJUTANT'S STORY— LIFE IN DERRY. 191 
 
 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 Deny?" 
 
 " Never," said the three listeners. 
 
 " Well, then, let me inform you that the place has its own pecu- 
 liar 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 this. After the great guns — and, per Baccho ! what 
 great guns they are ! — you have nothing but the men engaged in com- 
 merce — sharp, clever, shrewd, well-informed fellows. They are deep 
 in flaxseed, cunning in molasses, and not to be excelled in all that 
 pertains to coffee, sassafras, cinnamon, gum, oakum, and elephants' 
 teeth. The place is a rich one, and the spirit of commerce is felt 
 throughout it.. Nothing is cared for, nothing is talked of, nothing 
 alluded to that does not bear upon this; and, in fact, if you haven'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 im- 
 pression our triumphal entry into the city produced. Instead of the 
 admiring crowds that awaited us elsewhere, as we marched gayly 
 into quarters, here we 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 the wharfs ; the women, with almost as little interest, peeped at 
 us from the windows, and walked away again. Oh, how we wished 
 for Galway — glorious Galway ! that paradise of the infantry, that 
 lies west of the Shannon. Little we knew, as we 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 creak of a weighing crane 
 was more delightful music." 
 
 ?! By Jove !" interrupted Power, " you are quite right. Women 
 are strongly imitative in their tastes. The lovely Italian, whose very 
 costume is a natural following of a Raphael, is no more like the 
 
l::2 CHARLES O'MALLEV. 
 
 pretty Liverpool damsel than Genoa is to Glasnevin ; and yet what 
 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 was printed? But let us not repine: 
 that very plastic character is our greatest blessing." 
 
 " I'm not so sure that it always exists," said the Doctor, dubiously, 
 as though his own experience pointed otherwise. 
 
 " Well, go ahead !" said the Skipper, who evidently disliked the 
 digression 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 curi- 
 osity drew to the windows ; but, although we smiled, and ogled, and 
 leered, as only a newly-arrived regiment can smile, ogle, or leer, by 
 all that's provoking, we might as well have wasted our blandish- 
 ments upon the Presbyterian meeting-house that frowned upon us 
 with its high-pitched roof and round windows. 
 
 " ' Droll people, these,' said one ; ' Kayther rum ones/ cried an- 
 other ; ' 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 entr4e, we still resolved to persist in our original 
 plan, and, accordingly, early the following morning, announced our 
 intention of giving amateur theatricals. The Mayor, who called 
 upon our Colonel, was the first to learn this, and received the infor- 
 mation with pretty much the same kind of look the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury might be supposed to assume if requested by 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 Provi- 
 dence, 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 notification was too 
 much for his nerves, I know not. 
 
 " We were not to be baulked, however ; our schemes for gayety, 
 long planned and conned over, were soon announced in all form ; 
 and though we made efforts almost superhuman 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 ad- 
 vances treated with a cold and chilling politeness, that plainly said, 
 ' We'll none of you.' 
 
 " 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 
 
• THE ADJUTANT'S STORY— LIFE IN DERRY. 193 
 
 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 acquaint- 
 ances 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 style 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 com- 
 plete all, her instep and ankle were unexceptionable; 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 another world. 
 
 " When chance first threw me in the way of the fair widow, some 
 casual coincidence of opinion happened to raise me in her estima- 
 tion, and I soon afterwards received an invitation to a small even- 
 ing 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 visit- 
 ing twice or thrice a week, and in less than two months spent every 
 morning at her house, and rarely left it till the ' Eoast Beef an- 
 nounced mess. 
 
 " I soon discovered the widow's cue ; she was serious. Now, I 
 had conducted all manner of flirtations in my previous 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 
 shirmishers before the engagement, were denied me; and I verily 
 think that a tender squeeze of the hand would have cost me my dis- 
 missal, 
 13 
 
194 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' How very slow, all this !' thought I, as, at the end of two 
 months' siege, I 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 considerable. Having be- 
 come a member of Mr. M'Phun's congregation, I was gradually 
 rising in the estimation of the widow and her friends, whom my con- 
 stant attendance at meeting, and my very serious demeanor, had so 
 far impressed, 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, hips, and ankles, and joint- 
 ure aforesaid, — I honestly avow that neither the charms of that 
 sweet man Mr. MThun's eloquence, not even the flattering distinc- 
 tion 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 
 widow 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. It 
 was none of your sighing, dying, ogling, hand-squeezing, waist- 
 pressing, oath-swearing, everlasting-adoring affairs, with an inter- 
 change of rings and lockets, — not a bit of it. It was confoundedly 
 like a controversial meeting at the Eotundo, and I myself had a 
 far greater resemblance to Father Tom Maguire than a gay Lo- 
 thario. 
 
 " 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, punctual 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 way we had in the — th. 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 circumstantial 
 evidence, that I was nightly removed from the mess-room to my bed 
 
THE ADJUTANT'S STORY— LIFE IN DERRY. 195 
 
 in the mode I mention, it would have puzzled me sorely to prove the 
 fact in any direct way, inasmuch as by half-past nine, as the clock 
 chimed and Tim entered to take me, I was very innocent of all that 
 was going on, and, except a vague sense of regret at leaving the de- 
 canter, 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 favor- 
 able footing, old General Hinks, that commanded the district, an- 
 nounced 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 mortal 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 con- 
 demned to keep on drilling us to the day of judgment. To be sure, 
 he enlivened the proceeding to me by pronouncing the regiment the 
 worst-drilled and appointed corps in the service, and the Adjutant 
 (me !) the stupidest dunderhead — those were his words — he had ever 
 met with. 
 
 " ? Never mind/ thought I ; ' a few days more, and it's little I'll 
 care for the eighteen manoeuvres. It's small trouble your eyes right, 
 or your left shoulders forward, will give me. I'll 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 after- 
 noon, 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 quickstep 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 I 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'll not bolt, 
 I hope ?' 
 
 " ' That he shan'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 
 
19G CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 rose-colored three-cornered billet. It was from la chlre Boggs her- 
 self, 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 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'll go — tell the servant I'll 
 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 in- 
 tended retreat by an appearance of joviality. 
 
 " ' Give us — 
 
 4 When I was in the Fusiliers 
 Some fourteen years ago.' " 
 
 a ( 
 
 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 pro- 
 nounce 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 
 
THE ADJUTANT'S ST OR Y—LIFE IN BEllll Y. 197 
 
 my song, when the clock on the chimney-piece 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 l familiar' was 
 quite sufficient to show me that we had somehow changed sides ; for 
 Tim, who was habitually the most sober of mankind, was on the 
 present occasion exceedingly drunk, while I, a full 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 hiccup that set the whole table 
 in a roar. 
 
 " ' Leave the room this instant,' said I, feeling wrath at being thus 
 made a butt for his offences. ' Leave the room, or I'll 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'll 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 fireplace, to 
 secure the poker ; but Tim was beforehand with me, and seizing me 
 by the waist with both hands, flung me across his shoulder, as though 
 I were a baby, saying, at the same time, ' I'll 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 him- 
 self by one hand on the banisters, while with the other he held me 
 as in a vice. I had but one consolation all this 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, in- 
 stead 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 with 
 laughter. \ Go it, Tim !— that's the fellow !— hold him tight !— never 
 let go !' cried a dozen voices ; while the wretch, with the tenacity of 
 
198 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 spectators, who seemed scarcely 
 less amused than puzzled at the exhibition. In the midst of a tor- 
 rent of imprecations against my torturer, a loud noise attracted me. 
 I turned my head, 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. MThun, taking an airing on a 
 summer's evening on the back of a drunken Irishman. Oh ! the 
 thought was horrible ; and, certainly, the short and pithy epithets 
 by which I was characterized 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, however, 
 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'll 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 Halifax itself 
 to the ridicule that awaited me in Londonderry." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 FRED POWER'S ADVENTURE IN PHILIPSTOWN. 
 
 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 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 backward 
 
FRED PO WER'S ADVENTURE IN PHIL IPS TO WN. 199 
 
 and forward 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 rest- 
 ing-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 upon our 
 worldly pilgrimage, 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 worshipping our own 
 image in the water. As we go on in life, the cares, the anxieties, 
 and the business of the world, engross us more and more, and such 
 moments become fewer and shorter. Many a bright 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 de- 
 light in infancy brings to our mature age a touch of early years, so 
 will the very association of these happy moments recur to us in our 
 reverie, 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 pro- 
 jects of our manhood the fruit of some boyish predilection, and 
 that, in the emulative ardor that stirs the schoolboy's heart, we may 
 read the prestige of that 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, un- 
 heard and unlistened to amid 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, grow- 
 ing 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 followed, the ship lay gently over, and we were once more 
 
200 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 in motion. It struck four bells; some slight resemblance in the 
 sound to 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 welcome 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 he is 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 
 reverie, and at the same instant Mike's well-known voice informed 
 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 escaping 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 perpetuate 
 depressing thoughts. At the head of a rude, old-fashioned table, 
 upon which figured several black bottles, and various ill-looking 
 drinking vessels of every shape and material, sat Fred Power ; on 
 his right was placed the Skipper; on his left the Doctor, the 
 bronzed, merry-looking, weather-beaten features of the one contrast- 
 ing 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 Mon- 
 soon, to preserve the symmetry of the party, had protruded his 
 head, surmounted by a huge red nightcap, from the berth oppo- 
 site, and held out his goblet to be replenished from the punch- 
 bowl. 
 
 "Welcome, thrice welcome, thou man of Galway," cried out 
 
FRED PO WEB'S AD VENTURE IN PHIL IPS TO WN. 201 
 
 Power, as he pointed to a seat, and pushed a wine-glass towards me. 
 " Just in time, too, to pronounce upon a new brewing. Taste that ; 
 a little more of the lemon you would say, perhaps? Well, I agree 
 with you ; rum and brandy ; Glenlivet and guava jelly ; limes, 
 green tea, and a slight suspicion 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 inflammatory in 
 it ; nothing pugnacious ; a mere circulation of the be.tter juices and 
 more genial spirits of the marly clay, without arousing any of the 
 baser passions ; whisky is the devil for that." 
 
 " I canna say that I dinna like whisky-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 disre- 
 spect to the English," stuttered out Sparks, " I am bound to say 
 that I for one, and the Doctor, I am sure, for another " 
 
 " Na, na," interrupted the Doctor, " ye mauna coont upon me ; 
 I'm no disposed to fecht ower our liquor." 
 
 "Then, Major Monsoon, I'm certain " 
 
 " Are ye, faith ?" said the Major, with a grin ; " blessed are they 
 who expect nothing — of which number you are not — for most deci- 
 dedly you shall be disappointed." 
 
 " Never 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 ever John Bull from Ber- 
 wick to the Land's End." 
 
 Sparks, however, who seemed not exactly sure how far his antag- 
 onist was disposed to quiz, relapsed into a half-tipsy expression of 
 contemptuous silence, and sipped his liquor without reply. 
 
 "Yes," said Power, after a pause, "bad luck to it for whisky; it 
 nearly got me broke once, and poor Tom O'Reilly of the 5th, too, 
 the best-tempered fellow in the service ; we w T ere as near it as touch 
 and go ; and all for some confounded Loughrea spirits, that we be- 
 lieved to be perfectly innocent, and used to swill away freely with- 
 out suspicion of any kind." 
 
202 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " 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'll 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 farther. 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 Mer- 
 rion square down to the innkeeper's daughter in Tralee, the loveliest 
 part of the creation seem to have a perfect appreciation of our high 
 acquirements 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 sides, 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 making the time pass pleasantly, we are the boys for the 
 'greatest happiness' principle. I repeat it, we deserve our popular- 
 ity. Which of us does not get head and ears in 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 spar- 
 ingly 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 con- 
 demned 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, are the only promenade, and a ruinous bar- 
 rack, with mouldy walls and a tumbling chimney, the only quarters. 
 
FRED PO WER *S AD VENTURE IN PHILIPSTO WN. 203 
 
 " 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 gauger, to demand 
 a party to assist in still-hunting, amid 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 Philipstown ? Oh, but it is a romantic spot! 
 They tell us somewhere 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 cer- 
 tain bold and daring character of expression from the scenery, very 
 different from the placid and monotonous looks 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 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 outstretch- 
 ing his fingers, as if thus to convey a very strong hint that were not 
 half so fine fellows as we thought ourselves. Well, four mortal sum- 
 mer months of hot sun and cloudless sky went over, and still we lin- 
 gered in that vile village, the everlasting monotony of our days being 
 marked by the same brief morning drill, the same blue-legged 
 chicken dinner, the same smoky Loughrea whisky, 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 those parts were 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, 
 
204 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 peevish people one meets with would be excellent folk if they only had 
 something to do. As for us, I'll 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 disputing about trifles, and continually argu- 
 ing about matters which neither was interested in, nor, indeed, knew 
 anything about. There were, it is true, few topics to discuss ; news- 
 papers Ave 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 con- 
 siderable asperity and bitterness. One point, however, always served 
 us when hard pushed for a bone of contention, and which, begun 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'Eeilly, 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 ! when I only think of your Hottentot, I feel grateful for what 
 I've got.' 
 
 " Then ensued a discussion, with attack, rejoinder, charge, and re- 
 crimination, till we retired for the night, wearied with our exer- 
 tions, and not a little ashamed of ourselves at bottom for our absurd 
 warmth and excitement. In the morning the matter would be 
 rigidly avoided by each party until some chance occasion had 
 brought it on the tapis, when hostilities would be immediately re- 
 newed, 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 whisky-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 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 waxed warm, O'Reilly asserted that he positively 
 
FRED POWER'S ADVENTURE IN PHILIPSTOWN. 205 
 
 knew the individual in question to be a United Irishman, travelling 
 with instructions from the French Government, while I laughed him 
 to scorn by swearing that 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 fist 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'll blunder it, the confounded fool ; so, Jem, do you go.' 
 
 " The two individuals thus addressed were just in the act of con- 
 veying a tray of glasses and a spiced round of beef for supper inta 
 the mess-room ; and, as I may remark that they fully entered into 
 the feelings of jealousy their respective masters possessed, each eyed 
 the other with a look of very unequivocal dislike. 
 
 " Arrah ! ye needn'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'll be breaking with your 
 awkward elbow.' 
 
 " ' Then why don't ye leave the way ? Ain't I your suparior ?' 
 
 " 'Ain't I the Captain's own man ?' 
 
 " 'Ay, and if you war. Don't I belong to his betters ? Isn't my 
 master the two Liftenants ?' 
 
 " This, however strange 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 !' 
 
 u t 
 
206 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "At the same moment a tremendous crash took place, and a large 
 dish fell in a thousand pieces on the pavement, 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 mo- 
 ment 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 — by Jove, that was a facer — his eye's closed — 
 he's down — 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 pat- 
 ting his own fellow on the back, and encouraging him by the most 
 lavish promises. Now it was, but in what way I never could ex- 
 actly 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 
 double fist lighted upon Tom O'Eeilly's nose. Before I could express 
 my sincere 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 in- 
 continently burst out a-laughing. There was Tom, with a nose as 
 large as three ; a huge cheek on one side, and the whole head swing- 
 ing round like a harlequin'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-mar- 
 tial decide if such conduct 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 ; 
 1 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 displayed to our 
 horrified gaze the uniform of a general officer. 
 
 " ' Yes, sir, General Johnston, 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 quarters, 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, 
 
THE VOYAGE. 207 
 
 as the general order 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 whisky after the sixth tumbler, released us from arrest, 
 and forgave the whole affair." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXI. 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 T~ "TGH ! 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 ; be- 
 sides that, the " toujours pork," with crystals of salt as long as your 
 wife's fingers ; the potatoes, that seemed varnished in French polish ; 
 the tea, seasoned with geological specimens from the basin of Lon- 
 don, yclept 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 inevitably as the cold fit follows the ague ; the good fel- 
 low that shares his knapsack or his last guinea on land, here forages 
 out the best corner to hang his hammock ; jockeys you into a com- 
 fortless crib, where the uncaulked deck-butt filters every rain from 
 heaven on your head ; he votes you the corner at dinner, not only 
 that he may place you with your back to the thorough draft 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 gentlemen," who, being too wide awake to be 
 humbugged themselves, 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 em- 
 ployed his time in committing to paper his thoughts upon men, 
 manners, and things at sea in general ; though, sooth to say, his was 
 not an idle life ; being voted by unanimous consent " a junior," he 
 
208 CHARLES 0' MALLET. 
 
 was condemned to offices that the veriest fag in Eton or Harrow 
 bad rebelled against. In the morning, under the pseudonym of Mrs. 
 Sparks, he presided at breakfast, having previously made tea, coffee, 
 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, kidneys, &c, 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 proportions, 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 remunera- 
 tion 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 individuals were to be exclusively consulted in the self- 
 same beverage; and lastly, the supper at night, when Sparkie (as he 
 was familiarly called), towards evening, quite exhausted, became the 
 subject of unmitigated wrath and unmeasured reprobation. 
 
 " I say, Sparks, it's getting late ; the spatch-cock, old boy ; don't 
 be slumbering." 
 
 "By the bye, Sparkie, what a mess you made of that pea-soup to- 
 day ! By Jove ! I never felt so ill in my life." 
 
 "Na, na, it was' na the soup; it was something he pit in the 
 punch, that's burnin' me ever since I tuk it. Ou, man, but ye're 
 an awfu' creture wi' vittals." 
 
 "He'll improve, Doctor, he'll 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 — mustn't muzzle 
 the ox, eh ? Scripture for you, old boy. Eat away ; hang the ex- 
 pense. Hand him over the jug. Empty — eh, Charley? Come, 
 Sparkie, 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 getting 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 chorusing, 
 
THE VOYAGE. 209 
 
 91 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 draivn out, as the phrase is, into some confession of his 
 early years, which seemed to have been exclusively spent in love- 
 making — devotion to the fair being as integral a portion of his cha- 
 racter as tippling 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 amiable 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 imaginable 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 contretemps, continually the subjects 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 neighborhood. Duels, 
 apologies, actions at law, compensations, &c, were of every-day 
 occurrence, and to such an extent, too, that any man blessed with a 
 smaller bump upon the occiput would eventually have long since 
 abandoned the pursuit, and taken to some less expensive pleasure ; 
 but poor Sparks, in the true spirit of a martyr, only gloried the 
 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 try- 
 ing his patience, and had some cool forty thousand pounds of hap- 
 piness waiting his perseverance 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 
 something 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 sim- 
 plicity in the detail of the most ridiculous scenes, that left you con- 
 vinced 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 retreat- 
 ing chin, lisping out an account of an adventure, with a look of 
 Liston about him that was inconceivably amusing. 
 14 
 
210 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Come, Sparks/' said Power, " I claim a promise you made me 
 the other night, on condition that 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, con- 
 fused 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'll be 
 bound." 
 
 " Shot off in a duel?" said I, inquiringly; "close work, too." 
 
 " No such thing," replied Power ; " but Sparks will enlighten 
 you. It is, without exception, the most touching and beautiful 
 thing I ever heard ; as a simple story, it beats the i Vicar of Wake- 
 field' to sticks." 
 
 " You don't say so ?" said poor Sparks, blushing. 
 
 " Ay, that 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 which would make the fortune of half the periodi- 
 cals going. Ask Monsoon or O'Malley there if I did not say so at 
 breakfast, 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." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 MB. SPAEKS'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 
 
MR. SPARKS' S STORY. 211 
 
 distance. The eggs were fresh ; the trout newly caught ; the cream 
 delicious ; before me lay the Plwdwddlwn Advertiser, which, among 
 the fashionable arrivals at the sea-side, set forth Mr. Sparks, nephew 
 of Sir Toby Sparks, of Manchester, — a paragraph, by the way, I 
 always inserted. The English are naturally an aristocratic 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 cater- 
 pillar may be imagined, 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 squalling babes and 
 red baize-clad bathing women — those veritable descendants of the 
 nymphs of old. Pink parasols, donkey-carts, baskets of bread-and- 
 butter, reticules, guides to Barmouth, specimens of ore, fragments 
 of gypsum, 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 prome- 
 nade through an alley of bathing-boxes, amid a screaming popula- 
 tion 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 affec- 
 tion? what " 
 
 " In a word," said Power, " it is the sugar in the punch-bowl of 
 our existence. Perge, 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 
 
212 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 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, which, so 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," interrupted 
 Power. 
 
 " Back the widow against her at long odds, any day," murmured 
 the Adjutant. 
 
 " She was an angel ! an angel !" 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 ; " I'm beginning to 
 feel an interest in it." 
 
 " ' Isabella/ said a man's voice, as a large, well-dressed personage 
 assisted her to alight — i 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 mo- 
 ment 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 op- 
 portunity of observing that all we are in the habit of hearing about 
 
ME. SPARKS'S STORY. 213 
 
 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 tyro 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 appreciate it. Thus, the more you love, 
 the better you love; the more frequently has your heart yielded " 
 
 " It's vara like the mucous membrane," said the Doctor. 
 
 " I'll break your neck with the decanter if you interrupt him 
 again !" exclaimed Power. 
 
 " For days I scarcely ever left the house," resumed Sparks, " watch- 
 ing 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 imagin- 
 able 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 V 
 
 " ' 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 gen- 
 tleman 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 
 Romeo for three mortal days to a mere company of Welsh waiters 
 and chamber-maids, sighing, serenading, reciting, attitudinizing, 
 rose-plucking, soliloquizing, half-suiciding, and all for the edifica- 
 tion of a set of savages, with, about as much civilization as their 
 own goats. 
 
 " ' The bill,' cried I, in a voice of thunder ; • my bill this in- 
 stant.' 
 
 " I had been imposed upon, shamefully, grossly imposed upon, and 
 would not remain another hour in the house. Such were my feel- 
 ings, at least, and so thinking, 1 sent for my servant, abused him for 
 not having my clothes ready packed. He replied ; I reiterated ; and, 
 as my temper was 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 the road. 
 
214 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " * What 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. Behind the very house itself rose 
 the mighty Snowdon, towering high above the other mountains, 
 whose lofty peaks were lost amid the clouds; before me was the 
 narrow valley " 
 
 " Wake me up when he's under weigh 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 1, 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 1 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 buz- 
 zing monotonously, and in the distance the clear, sharp tingle of the 
 sheep-bell. In such a place, at such a time, one's fancy strays play- 
 fully, like some happy child, and none but pleasant thoughts pre- 
 sent themselves. Fatigued by my long walk, and overcome by 
 heat, I fell asleep. How long I lay there I cannot tell, but the deep 
 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. Beside me, within a few paces, stood Isabella, 
 the beautiful vision that I had seen at Barmouth, but far, a thou- 
 sand 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 well ; her long and 
 
MR. SPARKS' S ST OR Y. 2\, 
 
 A 
 
 waving ringlets fell carelessly upon her shoulders, and her chee 
 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 unconsciously ; 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 recognized 
 to be the old gentleman I had seen with her at Barmouth, and who 
 in the most courteous manner apologized for the trouble I had 
 been caused. He 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 de- 
 light I seized the opportunity of forming an acquaintance with Isa- 
 bella, 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 engaged in the* arrangement of a very 
 excellent cold dinner, each individual having some peculiar pro- 
 vince allotted to him or her, to be performed by their own hands. 
 Thus, one elderly gentleman was whipping cream under a chestnut- 
 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 fire, opposite to a short, 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 unoccu- 
 pied 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 cour- 
 tesy, that struck me much at first, and gained greatly on me, even in 
 
216 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 the few minutes I conversed with him as we came along. Just be- 
 fore he presented me to his friends, he gently touched my arm, and, 
 drawing me aside, whispered in my ear, — 
 
 " ' Don't be surprised at anything you may hear to-day here ; for 
 I must inform you that this is a kind of club, as I may call it, 
 where every one assumes a certain character, and is bound to sus- 
 tain it under a penalty. We have these little meetings every now 
 and then, and as strangers are never present, I feel some explana- 
 tion necessary, that you may be able to enjoy the thing ; you under- 
 stand ?' 
 
 " ' 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 V said the sallow old 
 lady addressed. ' How is coffee ?' 
 
 "The General passed on, introducing me rapidly as he went. 
 
 " ' Mr. Doolittle, Mr. Sparks.' 
 
 " ' Ah, how do you do, old boy ?' said Mr. Doolittle ; ' sit down 
 beside me. We have forty thousand acres of pickled cabbage spoil- 
 ing 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 in an immoderate fit of laughter. 
 
 " ' Le Roi est servi/ said the thin, meagre figure in nankeens, bow- 
 ing, cap in hand, before the General; and, accordingly, we all 
 assumed our places upon the grass. 
 
 " 'Say it again ! say it again ! and I'll plunge this dagger in your 
 heart !' said a hollow voice, tremulous with agitation 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 con- 
 templating 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 expres- 
 sion I shall never forget, said, — 
 
 " ' Don't mind poor Faddy ; he never hurts any one.' 
 
 " Meanwhile the business of dinner went on rapidly. The ser- 
 vants, 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 coiner- 
 
MR. SPARKS'S STORY. 21V 
 
 sation around, under other circumstances, 1 was too much occupied 
 with Isabella to think of any one else. My suit — for such it was — 
 progressed 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 ex- 
 pression of pleasure, and I thought that Isabella blushed and seemed 
 confused also. ' What care I V however, was my reflection ; ' my 
 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, — 
 
 " ' When did you join, thou child of the pale faces?' 
 
 " ' Mr. Murdocks !' cried the General, in a voice of thunder, and 
 the little man hung down his head and spoke not. 
 
 " ' A word with you, young gentleman,' said a fat old lady, pinch- 
 ing my arm above the elbow. 
 
 " * Never mind her,' said Isabella, smiling ; ' poor dear old Dorkin, 
 she thinks she's an hour-glass. How droll, isn'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 mis- 
 fortunes 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 — 
 1 that the ace of spades !' 
 
 " ' Are you, or are you not, sir ?' said Isabella, fixing her deep and 
 languid eyes upon me. ' Answer, as you are honest ; are you the 
 ace of spades V 
 
 " ' 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. 
 
218 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "'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 an- 
 other ; ' Phiz V went a third ; and, in an instant, such a scene of 
 commotion and riot ensued ! Plates, dishes, knives, forks, and de- 
 canters flew right and left ; every one pitched into his neighbor with 
 the most fearful cries, and hell itself seemed let loose. The hour- 
 glass and the Moulah of Oude had got me down, and were pummel- 
 ling me to death, when a short, thickset man came on all fours slap 
 down upon them, shouting out, ' Way, make way for the royal Ben- 
 gal tiger V 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 right ear, leaving me, as you see, thus 
 mutilated for the rest of my days." 
 
 " What an extraordinary club I" broke in the Doctor. 
 
 " Club ! sir, club ! it was a lunatic asylum. The General was no 
 other than the famous Doctor 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 remark- 
 able 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 pronounced 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 weak intellects, 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 without wishing us good 
 night. 
 
/ 
 
 THE SKIPPER. 219 
 
 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 pen- 
 nant pointed ever to the land where our ardent expectations were 
 hurrying before it. 
 
 The latest accounts which had reached us from the Peninsula told 
 us 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, towards sunset, he would break out into 
 some exclamation of discontent, half- fearing we should be too late ; 
 " for," said he, " if we go on in this way, the regiment will be re- 
 lieved, and ordered home before we reach it." 
 
 " Never fear, 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'll not be pleased to go back 
 with the polish on your sabre ? What will Lucy Dash wood say?" 
 
 This was the first allusion Power had ever made to her, and I be- 
 came red to the very forehead. 
 
 ". By the bye," added he, " I have a letter for Hammersley, 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 is forty times as 
 severe as with a younger fellow, like you. But then, to be sure, he 
 began at the wrong end in the matter ; why commence with papa ? 
 When a man has his own consent for liking a girl, he must be a con- 
 temptible 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 in- 
 fluencing the heads of the house, good-bye to your chances with the 
 dear thing herself, if she have any spirit whatever. It is, in fact, 
 calling on her to surrender without the honors of war ; and what girl 
 would stand that ?" 
 
 " It's vara true," said the Doctor ; " there's a strong speerit of op- 
 position in the sex, from physiological causes." 
 
220 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Curse your physiology, old Galen : what you call opposition is 
 that piquant resistance to oppression that makes half the charm of 
 the sex. It is with them — with reverence be it spoken— -as with 
 horses : the dull, heavy-shouldered 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 manage- 
 ment of your arching-necked curveter, 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 thread ; eh, Skipper 
 — am I not right V 
 
 " 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 hasn'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 you 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 happen to us 
 any minute of our lives. To-day we have the breeze fair in our 
 favor ; we are going seven knots, studding-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 bow, and maybe — 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'll perhaps ask 
 me what has all this moralizing to do with women and ships at sea? 
 Nothing at all with them, except that I was a-going to say that 
 when matters 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 pockets, 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, some- 
 how, when a man is in misfortune, the underwriters won't have him 
 at any 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 
 
THE SKIPPER. 221 
 
 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 ; maybe 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 wasn'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 was 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 a queer kind of a chap he was that first 
 set her on the stocks, and pondered in what trade she ever could 
 have been. All the sailors about the port used to call her Noah's 
 Ark, and swear she was 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, and nothing stirred ; and if it blew 
 very hard at night, I'd get up and go down to look how she weath- 
 ered 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 happy 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 day 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 wonder if I loved the old craft? or if, 
 by any chance, the idle boys would venture aboard of her to play and 
 amuse themselves, that I halloed them away? or, when a newly- 
 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 
 
222 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 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 mourn- 
 fully, and, as she yawed 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'll tell you presently — was all the 
 companion 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 on, it will find a lifeless one — it can no 
 more stand alone than the shrouds can without the mast. The even- 
 ing 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 shipowner 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 saw 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' -wester 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'll 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 admirably ; any repair we want, a 
 few days will effect ; secrecy is the great thing.' 
 
 " ' Yes/ said the Admiral, after a pause, ' as you observe, secrecy 
 is the great thing/ 
 
THE SKIPPER. 223 
 
 " ' Ho ! ho !' thought I, * there's something in the wind here ;' 
 so I laid myself out upon the anchor-stock, to listen better, unob- 
 served. 
 
 " ' 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 ; 
 ? J where are we to find a fellow that will suit us? We can't every 
 day find a man willing to jeopardize himself in such a cause as this, 
 even though the reward be a great one.' 
 
 " « Very true, my lord ; but I don't think there's any necessity for 
 our explaining to him the exact nature of the service.' 
 
 11 * Come, come, Dawkins, you can't mean that you'll 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 your ship's crew before clearing out of harbor.' 
 
 " ' This may be perfectly just, but I don't like it,' said the Ad- 
 miral. 
 
 " ' In that case, my lord, you are imparting the secrets of the Ad- 
 miralty 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'll draft on board of her ; the 
 fellows who have only been once to the gangway, we'll make the 
 officers.' 
 
 " 'A pleasant ship's company,' thought I, ' if the devil would only 
 take the command.' 
 
 " 'And with a skipper proportionate to their merit,' said Daw- 
 kins. 
 
 " ' Begad, I'll wish the French joy of them,' said the Admiral. 
 
 " ' Ho, ho !' thought 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 in ainong 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'll 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'll come to his price.' 
 
224 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " ' So you may,' thought I, * when you are buying his life.' 
 
 "'I hope sincerely,' continued the Admiral, ' that we may light 
 upon some one without wife or child. I never could forgive my- 
 self ' 
 
 " ' 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, who, setting his life at naught, cares less for the gain than 
 the very recklessness of the adventure.' 
 
 " ' That's me,' said I, starting 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 backward, whilst 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 down here at this time of night ?' 
 
 " ' I was watching the Ark, my lord,' said I, bowing, as I took off 
 my hat. 
 
 " ' I've heard of this fellow before, my lord,' said Dawkins ; 'he's 
 a poor lunatic that is always wandering about the harbor, and I 
 believe has no harm in him.' 
 
 " ' Yes ; but he has doubtless been listening to our conversation,' 
 said the Admiral. 'Eh, have you heard all we have been say- 
 ing?' 
 
 " ' 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 you 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 
 
THE SKIPPER. 225 
 
 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 they have 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 re- 
 proached 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! 
 who is left to me for whom I can labor now ? Give me but the 
 opportunity to end my days with honor on board the old craft, 
 where 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'll not refuse this ; it is an old man who asks — 
 one whose gray hairs have floated many a year before the breeze.' 
 
 " ' My poor fellow I you know not what you ask ; this is no un- 
 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 commanded the 
 Dwarf privateer in the Isle of France V 
 " ' 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 Admiral took Daw- 
 kins 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 adven- 
 ture breaking in so suddenly upon the dull monotony of my daily 
 existence, had so aroused and stimulated 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 meet- 
 ing with the Admiral had been merely some excited dream of a tor- 
 tured and fretted mind; and, as I stood examining the ground where 
 I believed the interview to have occurred, I endeavored to recall the 
 position of different objects as they stood around, to corroborate my 
 own failing remembrance. 
 15 
 
226 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " 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 unnatu- 
 rally still and calm ; the water of the harbor 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 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 darkness 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 distinguished 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 mis- 
 fortunes of my life. As I contrasted its outset, bright with hope 
 and rich in promise, with the sad reality, my heart grew heavy and 
 my chest heaved painfully ; so sunk was I in my reflections, so lost 
 in thought, that I never knew that the storm had broken loose, and 
 that the heavy rain was falling in 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 fearful one for those at sea. 
 Wet through and shivering, I sat still — now listening, amid the 
 noise of the hurricane and the creaking of the cordage, for any foot- 
 step to approach, and now relapsing back into a 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 every- 
 thing, and all was hid from view. I could hear that she worked 
 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. 227 
 
 " ' Ay, ay, sir ; I'm here.' In a moment the Admiral and his 
 friend were beside me. 
 
 " '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 reputation have nothing heavier against 
 them than misfortune, which, certainly, if I have been rightly in- 
 formed, 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 or 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 aware what is the nature of the service V 
 
 " ' I know it not,' said I. 'All that I heard, sir, leads me to sup- 
 pose 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.' 
 
 " ' Really, Dawkins,' said the Admiral, ' I don't see why ' 
 
 " ' My 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 not worth it, you will sail from this 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 entrusted ; they contain 
 information of immense importance, which, for certain reasons, can- 
 not 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 recapture from our frigates, 
 
228 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 some- 
 thing in a whisper to Dawkins, who appeared to overrule it, what- 
 ever it might be, and finally brought him over to his own opinion. 
 
 " ' Come, Cupples/ said Dawkins, ' the affair is now settled ; 
 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, Cupplcs/ 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'll try and shorten it a bit. The next day I went aboard the 
 iSemiramis, 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 
 ordered to go below, where the Admiral, his Flag-Captain Dawkins, 
 and the others were seated. They repeated at greater 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 dam- 
 aged, they had lost no time, but had her already high in dock, with 
 two hundred ship carpenters at work upon her. 
 
 " I do not shorten sail here to tell you what reports were circu- 
 lated about Cove as to my extraordinary change in circumstances, 
 nor how I bore my altered fortunes. It is enough if I say that in 
 less than three weeks I weighed anchor, stood out to sea one beauti- 
 ful 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 water-logged ; 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 
 way round she would fall back, and nearly carry away every stitch 
 of canvas with the shock. If the ship was bad, the crew were ten 
 
THE SKirrER. 221) 
 
 times worse. What Dawkins had 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 seamanship, was sent on board of us ; and in fact, 
 except that there was scarcely any discipline and no restraint, we 
 appeared 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^heir excesses — vain, for 
 I had but one to second me — I appeared to take no notice of their 
 misconduct, and contented myself with waiting for the time when, 
 my dreary voyage over, I should quit the command, and part com- 
 pany 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 running mountains high, a wind strong 
 from the northwest was hurrying the old craft along at a rate I be- 
 lieved impossible. 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 from the fourth day of 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 vowing 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, inJ;o 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 combined could 
 suggest was offered and descanted on. Meanwhile 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 might, 
 they would neither work the ship nor fight 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 sarcasm I heard on every side, and nearly 
 
230 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. - 
 
 mad from passion, and bewildered, my first impulse was to rush 
 amongst them with my drawn cutlass, and, ere I fell their victim, 
 take heavy vengeance upon the ringleaders, when suddenly a sharp 
 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, to fight her to the last, 
 I had made the mate, a staunch-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 encourage- 
 ment he spoke with, ' if we take her, I promise to claim nothing 
 of the prize. Whatever we capture you shall divide amongst 
 yourselves.' 
 
 " ■ It's very easy to divide what we never had,' said one ; 'Nearly 
 as easy as to give it,' cried another ; * I'll 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 perceptible — 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 
 fire-ship, destined for Brest harbor 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 inevitable 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 riotous, disorderly crew, the secret nature 
 of the service, all confirmed it, and they answered with a shout of 
 despairing vengeance, ' We'll board her ; lead us on.' As the cry 
 rose up, the long swivel from the chase rang sharply in our ears, and 
 a tremendous discharge of grape flew through our rigging ; none of 
 
THE SKIPPER. 231 
 
 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 bow- 
 sprit to our own. 
 
 " One terrific yell burst from our fellows as they sprang from the 
 rigging and the poop upon the astonished Frenchmen, 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 fellows 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 fellow, 
 with a grizzly beard and moustache, who, seeing his men fall back, 
 turned on them one glance of scowling indignation, 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 unresisting 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 Sheervoater, forty-four guns ; and, as the Ad- 
 miral 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.' " 
 
 " Well," inquired Power, " and did you never hear the meaning of 
 the words?" 
 
 " Yes," said he ; " many years after, I found out that our de- 
 spatches 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 death ; and, after all, either was fully good enough for the crew 
 that sailed in the old Brian" 
 
232 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE LAND. 
 
 IT was late when we separated for the night, and the morning 
 was already far advanced ere I awoke .; the monotonous 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 gruif 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 " 
 
 "Nevermind, O'Malley," said the Major; "the Portuguese will 
 only be nattered 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 cunning than the rest explained 
 it by saying, ' They are in such a hurry to kill the poor black man, 
 that they come away without their breeches.' " 
 
 " 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 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, there 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 
 
THE LAND. 233 
 
 heart beat high as the land drew near, fated to cover with its earth 
 more than one amongst us. 
 
 " And that's Portingale, Mister Charles," said a voice behind me. 
 I turned, and saw my man Mike, as, with anxious joy, he fixed his 
 eyes upon the shore. 
 
 " They tell me it's a beautiful place, with wine for nothing, and 
 spirits for less. Isn'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 Connanght, — it's not fair for one to fall upon twenty. Sergeant 
 Haggarty says that I'll see none of the divarsion at all." 
 
 " I don't well understand " 
 
 " He does be telling me that, as I'm only your footboy, he'll 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 wasn't displazing to you, I'd 
 rather list." 
 
 " 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 between 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'll be beating my brains out av I couldn't explain 
 it all." 
 
 " Well, Mike, I'll speak to some of my friends here about you, 
 and we'll settle it all properly. Here's the Doctor." 
 
 " Arrah, Mr. Charles, don't mind him ; he's a poor crayture en- 
 tirely ; divil 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 isn't worth their salt. It's thruth I'm 
 tellin' you ; sure, didn't he come see me when I was sick below in 
 the hould ? 
 
 " ' How do you feel V says he. 
 
 " ' Terribly dhry 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 powthers. 
 
234 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " 'Take them/ says he/and you'll be cured in no time.' 
 
 " 'What's them V says L 
 
 " ' 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 my 
 j stomach. So you see what a docther he is I" 
 
 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 
 with no small pride at the faded glories of his old vestment; "aston- 
 ish them at Lisbon, we flatter ourselves. I say, Power, what a bad 
 style of dress they've got into latterly, with their tight waists and 
 strapped trousers — nothing free, nothing easy, nothing dtgagi 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 wiser. A very 
 good rule, I assure you, though it sometimes leads to awkward re- 
 sults. At Vimeira, I got into a sad scrape that way. Old Sir Harry, 
 who 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'll 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 expecta- 
 tions of the future! 
 
 Every plan, every well-devised expedient to cheat the long and 
 
THE LAND. 235 
 
 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, becomes distasteful. One blue 
 and misty mountain, one faint outline of the far-off shore, has dis- 
 pelled 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 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 sombre olive ; the mellow corn and the 
 waving woods, the village 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 bright glare of the noonday sun dazzles the view, 
 and renders indistinct the prospect; but, as evening falls, once 
 more is all fair, and bright, and rich before us. Rocked by the long 
 and rolling swell, I lay beside the bowsprit, watching the shore- 
 birds that came to rest upon the rigging, or following some long and 
 tangled sea-weed 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 mo- 
 ments as these ! how valueless, how poor, in our estimation, 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 outline 
 of the objects were still sharp and distinct as before. One solitary 
 star twinkled near the horizon. I watched it as, at intervals disap- 
 pearing, 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." 
 
236 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 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 intro- 
 duce 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 Penin- 
 sula. When Major Monsoon had entered the army, or in what pre- 
 cise 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 ex- 
 tended to nearly every regiment in the service — " 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 profession : 
 from the formation of a regiment to the introduction of a new but- 
 ton — 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 Commis- 
 sary-General's department for a number of years, and nothing in- 
 stills such habits as this. 
 
 " The commissaries are to the army what the special pleaders are 
 to the bar/' observed my friend Power — "dry dogs, not over- 
 creditable, on the whole, but devilish useful." 
 
 The Major had begun life a two-bottle man, but by a studious 
 cultivation of his natural gifts, and a steady determination to suc- 
 ceed, he had at the time I knew him attained to his fifth. It need 
 not be wondered at, then, that his countenance bore some traces of 
 his habits. It was of a deep, sunset purple, w T hich, becoming trop- 
 ical, at the tip of the nose verged almost upon a plum color; his 
 mouth was large, thick-lipped, and good-humored ; his voice rich, 
 mellow 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 frequently bore in 
 some degree against some of what he called his little failings, they 
 were ever well received, no man being so popular w T ith 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 
 
MAJOR MONSOON: 237 
 
 late, and the last bottle of his series seemed to imply that any cau- 
 tion regarding the nature of his communication was perfectly unne- 
 cessary. Indeed, from the commencement of his evening to its close, 
 he seemed to pass through a number of mental changes, all in a 
 manner preparing him for this final consummation, when he con- 
 fessed anything and everything; and so well-regulated had these 
 stages become, that a friend dropping in upon him suddenly could 
 at once pronounce, from the tone of his conversation, on what pre- 
 cise 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 bat- 
 tery 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 thoroughly 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 equipments which 
 modern innovation had introduced ; and feared that the loss of pig- 
 tails might sap the military spirit of the nation. 
 
 With No. 4 his anecdotic powers came into play ; he recounted 
 various incidents of the war, with his own individual adventures and 
 experience, told with an honest naivelS that proved personal vanity ; 
 indeed, self-respect never marred the interest of the narrative ; be- 
 sides, as he had ever regarded 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 seem inevitably connected 
 with whatever is last appeared to steal over him. A tinge of sad- 
 ness for pleasures fast passing and nearly passed, a kind of retro- 
 spective 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, singu- 
 larly perverted, by his misdescription, from their true meaning, and 
 alternately throwing out prospects of censure or approval. Such 
 was Major Monsoon ; and to conclude in his own words this brief 
 sketch, he " would have been an excellent officer if Providence had 
 not made him such a confounded drunken old scoundrel." 
 
238 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " 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 slowly came 
 along upon the tide up the Tagus, "so you've nothing whatever to 
 fear." 
 
 " Upon my life," said the Major, " I don't half like the tone of our 
 conversation. There is a certain freedom young men affect nowa- 
 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. 
 
 "Fie, 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 dropped into a moralizing key, as he added, " David, you know, 
 didn'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 that 
 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 re- 
 deems his pledge." 
 
 "Well, then, if you must have a story — for most assuredly 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 precedence — 
 place aux dames. There's a bumper for you, old Wickedness ; so go 
 along." 
 
 The Major cleared off 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, and some- 
 
MA JOE MONSOON. 239 1 
 
 thing the shape of, a child's coffin, looked around to see that we were 
 all attention, and thus began : 
 
 " When I have been in a moralizing mood, as I very frequently 
 am about this hour in the morning, I have often felt surprised by 
 what little, trivial, and insignificant circumstances 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 your cravat, mars your destiny and spoils 
 your future varium et mutabile, 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 great- 
 est 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 off when you 
 least expect it, and when you think there is nothing to fear. There- 
 fore, as young fellows beginning 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 illustra- 
 tion, 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, the brown skins, the 
 rainy season, and the yellow fever, most of us settled there. 
 
 11 It's very hard to leave the West Indies if once you've been quar- 
 tered 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. Preserved 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. 
 
240 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "It is singular 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 flirta- 
 tion ; whereas warm, sunny days, and bright moonlight nights, with 
 genial air and balmy zephyrs, open the heart, like the cup of a 
 cainelia, 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. " Ton 
 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 no 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, resolved to 
 make every fellow marry upon the slightest provocation. Begad, 
 you might as well enter a powder magazine 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, be- 
 sides, no petty, contemptible prejudices as to nation, habits, lan- 
 guage, color, or complexion — black, brown, or fair, from the Mus- 
 covite to the Malabar, from the voluptuous embonpoint of the Adju- 
 tant'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 in 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 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, leer- 
 ing, teasing, and imploring, all at once, do you mind, and a mouth- 
 ful of downright pearls pouting 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 beau- 
 tifully polished, and a very nice piece of furniture for a cottage orne', 
 
MAJOR MONSOON. 241 
 
 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 plantations ; 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 j 
 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 kind 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 reluc- 
 tant we become ever to resign or abandon them. 
 
 " I was the man to appreciate it all. The whole course of proceed- 
 ing seemed to have been invented for my peculiar convenience, and 
 not a man on the 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, with my glass of port, 
 my pickled mango, my olive, my anchovy toast, my nutshell of 
 curacoa, but not my favorite lounge. You may smile ; but I've read 
 of a man who could never dance except in the 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 prac- 
 1G 
 
242 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 tice, 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 dis- 
 comfiture 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 favorite Blenheim spaniel the old fellow detested ; 
 it was always tripping him up and snarling at him ; for it was, ex- 
 cept 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 en- 
 deavoring to hide him, and so on ; in fact, a tremendous hubbub 
 always followed his introduction 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 hours of hard eating, the pace 
 slackened, and as evening closed in, a sense of peaceful repose seemed 
 to descend upon our labors, Pastilles 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 displayed upon the broad verandah 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 
 the full extent, throw your arm carelessly 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, — 
 
 " \ Isn't he a love? isn't he a darling V 
 
 " * Zounds I 1 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 old thing it is !' said Polly. 
 
 " ' Worse and worse,' said I ; 'it must be him.' 
 
MAJOR MONSOON. 243 
 
 " ' I do so love his muzzy face/ 
 
 " ' It is him I' 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 re- 
 plied, — 
 
 " f Oh ! I dare not ; papa will see me at once.' 
 
 " ' Don't be afraid, madam,' said I, fiercely ; ' your father perfectly 
 approves of your taste.' 
 
 " ' Are you sure of it?' said she, giving me 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. Mon- 
 soon ' 
 
 " ' 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 comfortable there. 
 Isn'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, roused me from my dream 
 of happiness. 
 
 " ' Take your foot down, 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'll 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 mal- 
 treatment, 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 
 
244 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 never forget, the whole room being, at the time I made my exit, one 
 scene 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 ; but 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 Lisbon. 
 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, moustached 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. 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 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, return- 
 ing the salute. 
 
 " Rear-Admiral Sir Edward Douglas requests that you will do 
 
THE LANDING. 245 
 
 him the favor to come on board immediately, and bring your des- 
 patches 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 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, where Power gayly waved us a 
 good-bye. 
 
 " 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, who 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 amongst 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'll not mind 
 the Doctor; he's a very jovial little fellow, but an infernal bore; 
 entre nous; and we'll have a cosy little supper at the Eua di Toledo. 
 I know the place well. Whew, now ! Get away, boy. Sit steady. 
 Sparks ; she's only a cockle-shell. There — that's the Plaza de la 
 Regna — there, to the left. There's the great cathedral — you can't 
 see it now. Another seventy-four ! why, there's a whole fleet here I 
 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'll 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 the 87th 
 marched into the Plaza, and formed a line. 
 
 The music ceased ; the drums rolled along the line ; the next mo- 
 
246 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 ment 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. All continued to look; the band marched into 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' fullness. 
 
 " 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 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 of olives, a roast duck, a bowl of bishop, and, if you 
 will, a few bottles of Burgundy," said the Major; "don't put your- 
 self out for us — soldier's fare, eh ?" 
 
 I could not help smiling at the naive notion of simplicity so cun- 
 ningly suggested by old Monsoon. As I followed the party through 
 the streets, my step was light, my heart not less so ; for what sensa- 
 tions 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 ac- 
 commodations, its uncertain duration, its eternal round of unchang- 
 ing 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 arc," cried out Ferguson, as we stopped at the door of a 
 
THE LANDING. 247 
 
 large and handsome house. We followed up a spacious stair into an 
 ample room, sparingly but not uncomfortably 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 sup- 
 per, Monsoon commenced a congratulation to the party upon the 
 good fortune that had befallen them. " Capital 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 table, and set to with an appetite which 
 only a newly-landed traveller ever knows. 
 
 "Another spoonful of tlie gravy? Thank you. And so they say 
 we've not been faring over well latterly?" said the Major. 
 
 "No 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 brigade, when Laborde drove us back upon the town, 
 and actually routed us. The Portuguese general, caring for little 
 or anything save his own safety, was making at once for the moun- 
 tains, when Patrick called upon his battalion to face about and 
 charge ; and nobly they did it, too. Down they came upon the ad- 
 vancing masses of the French, and literally 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 Real. 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 lengthened 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 ad- 
 vance, turned and fled, pell-mell, back upon the town. As for me, 
 blocked up amid 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. " 
 
248 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " But what news from our own head-quarters?" inquired I. 
 
 "All imaginable kind of rumors are afloat. Some say that Crad- 
 dock 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 Tonnes will be inconsolable. By the 
 bye, their house is just opposite us. Have you never heard Mon- 
 soon mention his friends there ?" 
 
 " Come, come, Joe, how can you be so foolish ?" 
 
 "But, Major, my dear friend, what signifies your modesty? 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." 
 
 "Anything is better than trusting to such a biographer," cried the 
 Major ; "so here goes : 
 
 "When I was Acting Commissary-General to the Portuguese 
 forces, some few years ago, I obtained great experience of the habits 
 of the people; for though naturally of an unsuspecting tempera- 
 ment myself, I generally contrive to pick out the little foibles of 
 my associates, even upon a short acquaintance. Now, my appoint- 
 ment pleased me very much on this score ; it gave me little oppor- 
 tunities of examining the world. ' The greatest study of mankind 
 is man, — Sparks would say woman — but no matter. 
 
 " Now, I soon discovered that our ancient and very excellent 
 allies, the Portuguese, with a beautiful climate, delicious wines, and 
 very delightful wives and daughters, were the most infernal rogues 
 and scoundrels ever met with. 'Make yourself thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with the leading features of the natives,' said old Sir 
 Harry to me, in a despatch from head-quarters ; and, faith, it was 
 not difficult ; 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 humbugged me, — ay, me ! — 
 till 1 began to suspect that I was only walking in my sleep. 
 
 "'Why, Monsoon,' 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 Portuguese ; there's 
 but one way with them — strike quickly, and strike home. Never 
 
THE LANDING. 249 
 
 give them time for roguery ; for, if they have a moment's reflection, 
 they'll cheat the devil himself; but when you 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 fail. 
 
 'MI 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 up the rations that way.' 
 
 "The wheat came in that evening. 
 
 " ' One hundred and twenty bullocks wanted for the reserve.' 
 
 " ' 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 Peninsula. 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 coun- 
 try, 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's coming,' they would say, ' after to-morrow.' 
 
 " l Madre de Bios V 
 
 " * 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 old miser, rich as Croesus, and suspicious as the 
 arch-fiend 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 
 heard of; and as they began to slacken a little, I took care to re- 
 place them by fresh arrivals — fellows from the mountains — cagadores 
 they call them. At last my friend Don Emanuel could stand it no 
 longer, and he sent me a diplomatic envoy to negotiate terms, which, 
 upon the whole, I must say were fair enough. In a few days after, 
 the cagadores were withdrawn, and I took up my quarters at the 
 
250 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 pro- 
 perly 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. Confound me, if I think she wasn't the most 
 enchanting being in this world, with about ten thousand pounds' 
 worth of jewels upon her fingers and in her ears. I have her before 
 me at this instant, as she used to sit in the little arbor in the gar- 
 den, with a Manilla cigar in her mouth, and a little brandy-and- 
 water — quite weak, you know — beside her. 
 
 " ' Ah ! General/ she used to say,— she always called me Gene- 
 ral, — ' 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 cor- 
 ner, holding his hand to his face for hours, calculating interest and 
 cent, per cent, till he fell asleep. 
 
 " Now, he labored under a very singular malady — not that I 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 sitting one evening 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, brooches, ear- 
 rings, and chains enough to reward one for sacking a town ; and I 
 said to myself, ' Monsoon, 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 com- 
 panion !' 
 
 " 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.' 
 
THE LANDING. 251 
 
 " ' What a luxurious life one might lead here P thought I ; ' and, 
 after all, perhaps Providence might remove Don Emanuel.' 
 
 " I finished the bottle as I thus meditated. The next was, if pos- 
 sible, 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 ever I 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 ' 
 
 " ' Fie, 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, sate 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 bs long before I became possessor 
 of this excellent old chateau, with a most indiscretionary power over 
 the cellar. Don Mauricius Monsoon would speedily assume his 
 place among the grandees of Portugal.' 
 
 " I know not how long my reverie lasted, nor, indeed, how the 
 evening passed ; but I remember well the moon was up, and a sky 
 bright with a thousand stars was shining, as I sat beside the fair 
 Donna Maria, endeavoring, with such Portuguese as it had pleased 
 fate to bestow on me, to instruct her touching my warlike services 
 and deeds of arms. The fourth 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 
 
252 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 did I behold. There was little Don Emanuel stretched upon tlve 
 grass, with his mouth wide open, his face pale as death, his arms 
 stretched out at either side, aud 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. 
 
 " ' Hallo/ 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 fellow ; but, some- 
 how, 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, f 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.' The port was working strong 
 now, and destroyed all my fine sensibility. ' Yes, Donna/ said I, 
 1 you are free/ — here I threw myself upon my knees, — ' free to make 
 me the happiest of commissaries, and the jolliest grandee of Por- 
 tugal that ever ' 
 
 "'But Don Emanuel?' 
 
 " ' Bun 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 hiccup ; ' ordered for service in a better 
 world, where there are neither inspections nor arrears.' 
 
 " 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 moment 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. Meanwhile 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, with 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 
 
LISBON. 253 
 
 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." 
 
 If was late when the Major concluded his story ; so after wishing 
 Ferguson a good night, we took our leave, and retired for the night 
 to our quarters. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 LISBON. 
 
 THE tramp of horses' feet and the sound of voices beneath my 
 window roused me from a deep sleep. I sprang up, and drew 
 aside the curtain. What a strange confusion beset me as I 
 looked forth ! Before me lay a broad and tranquil river, whose oppo- 
 site 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 sufficed to recall me to myself, as I heard Power's voice 
 from without, call out, — 
 
 " Charley ! O'Malley, 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 head-quarters without a 
 moment's delay. There's work before 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. First, here's a packet 
 for Hammersley ; you are sure to meet him with the regiment, in a 
 day or two. I have some scruples about asking you this — but, con- 
 found it ! — you're too sensible a fellow to care " 
 
 Here he hesitated, and, as I colored to the eyes, for some minutes 
 
254 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 he seemed uncertain how to proceed. At length, recovering himself, 
 he went on : 
 
 ** Now for the other. This is a most loving epistle from a poor 
 devil of a midshipman, written last night, by a tallow candle, in the 
 cockpit, containing vows of eternal adoration and a lock of hair. I 
 promised faithfully to deliver it myself: for the Thunderer sails for 
 Gibraltar next tide, and he cannot go ashore for an instant. How- 
 ever, as Sir Arthur's billet may be of more importance than the 
 reefer's, I must entrust 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, Eua 
 Nuova, opposite the barber's ;' you'll 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 Eua Nuova. Eemember Figaro, my boy. Cinque per- 
 ruche." 
 
 " But what am I to do ?" 
 
 " To do I 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 con- 
 foundedly 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, notwith- 
 standing the reckless and wild gayety of his conduct, I had 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 position again 
 suggesting thoughts of home and kindred. Just at this moment my 
 
LISBON. 255 
 
 eyes fell upon the packet destined for Hammersley ; I took it up 
 and weighted it in my hand. "Alas I" thought I, " how much of my 
 destiny may lie within that envelope ! how fatally may my after-life 
 be influenced by it I" It felt heavy, as though there was something 
 besides letters. True, too true; there was a picture; Lucy's por- 
 trait ! The cold drops of perspiration stood upon my forehead as 
 my fingers traced the outline of a miniature-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 re- 
 sponded 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 — all were before me, confirming 
 my delusion ; 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. 
 
 A third sound of the trumpet cut short my reflections. 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, curveted and plunged unceasingly. As I reached the 
 Plaza 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 scat- 
 tered 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 
 
256 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 motionless upon the pavement. There was but one 
 course open to me now ; 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 acclama- 
 tions 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 musi- 
 cal voice beside me ; and at the same instant a tall, soldier-like man, 
 in an undress dragoon frock, touched his cap, and said, " A 14th 
 man, I perceive, sir. May I introduce myself? — Major O'Shaugh- 
 nessy." 
 
 I bowed, and shook the Major's proffered hand, while he con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " Old Monsoon mentioned your name to us this morning. You 
 came out together, if I mistake not?" 
 
 " Yes ; but somehow, Pve missed the Major since my landing." 
 
 " Oh, you'll see him presently ; he'll 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 intendant 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'll 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 him ; he's most inti- 
 mate there. But here comes the Major." 
 
LISBON. 257 
 
 As he spoke, the illustrious Commissary came forward, hold- 
 ing a vast bundle of papers in one hand and his snuff-box in the 
 other, followed by a long string of clerks, contractors, assistant-sur- 
 geons, paymasters, &c, all eagerly pressing forward to be heard. 
 I " It's quite impossible ; 1 can't do it. to-day. Victualling and 
 I physicking are very good things, but must be done in season. I 
 iave been up all night at the accounts — haven't I, O'Malley?" — 
 {here he winked at me most significantly ; — " and then 1 have the 
 forage and stoppage fund to look through" (" We dine at six, sharp," 
 said he, sotto voce), " which will leave me without one minute unoccu- 
 pied 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. 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 : 
 
 " Mr. Hepton, 6th foot ; commission 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 Dash wood con- 
 cerning you. You will hold yourself in readiness to march. Your 
 friends desire that, before you may obtain any staff appointment, 
 you should have the opportunity of seeing some service. Am I to 
 understand such is your wish ?" 
 
 " Most 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 suppose that 
 my dinner engagement had not raised me in his estimation, though 
 why, I could not exactly determine. 
 
 17 
 
258 CHARLES 0' MALLET. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE RTTA NTJOYA. 
 
 OUR dinner was a long and uninteresting one, and as I found 
 that the Major was likely to prefer his seat, as chairman 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 distance, 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 reverie surrounding 
 objects had thrown about me. I stopped suddenly, and for some 
 minutes I struggled with myself to discover if I was really awake. 
 As I walked along, lost in my reflections, I had entered a little 
 garden beside the river. 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 upward 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 ceasing, 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 wailing cry of agony; then came the crash of battle, the clang 
 
THE RUA NUOVA. 2f>9 
 
 of steel ; the thunder of the fight rolled on in all its majesty, in- 
 creasing 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 skepticism, when again the notes 
 swelled upward 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 Abencer- 
 rages. 
 
 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 attention 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, " Trovado !" At 
 the same instant 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 was mine ! I well knew some mistaken 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, without 
 losing a second, I poured out apologies for my intrusion with all the 
 eloquence I was master of, till she suddenly interrupted me by ask- 
 ing 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 decora- 
 tions upon his breast, and a cocked hat, with a flowing plume, in his 
 right hand. 
 
 "May I beg to know whom I have the honor of receiving?" in- 
 quired 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 paying my respects, 
 when a mistake had led me accidentally into his garden. 
 
260 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 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, however, of short duration, for, taking my arm, 
 the old gentleman led me along a few paces, and turning round a 
 small clump of olives, entered a little summer-house. Here a con- 
 siderable party were assembled, which for their picturesque 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 covered with vessels 
 of gold and silver plate of gorgeous richness ; drinking cups and 
 goblets of antique pattern shone 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 amid a profusion of fresh flowers, whose odor was continually 
 shed around by a slight jet d!eau that played among the leaves. 
 Around, upon the grass, seated upon cushions, or reclining on 
 Genoa carpets, were several beautiful girls, in most becoming cos- 
 tumes, their dark locks and darker .eyes speaking of " the soft 
 south," while their expressive gestures and animated looks beto- 
 kened a race whose temperament is glowing as their clime. There 
 were several men also, the greater number of whom appeared in 
 uniform — bronzed, soldier-like fellows, who had the jaunty air and 
 easy carriage 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 fete," 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. Meanwhile, the 
 fair Inez had made room for me beside her, and I found myself at 
 once the lion of the party, each vieing with her neighbor who should 
 show me the most attention, la Senhora herself directing her conver- 
 sation 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 allu- 
 sion to it, feeling some interest in ascertaining for whom the flatter- 
 ing reception was really intended. 
 
THE RUA NUOVA. 26i 
 
 " I th ought you were Charles," said she, blushing in answer to my 
 question. 
 
 "And you were right," said I, " I am Charles." 
 
 " Nay, but I meant my Charles." 
 
 There was something of touching softness in the tones of these 
 few words that made me half wish I were her Charles. 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 1 was sure it was he." 
 
 " What a disappointment," said I. 
 
 " Yes, was it not ?" said she, hurriedly ; and then, as if remem- 
 bering 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 Eng- 
 lish officer fixed steadily upon me. He was a tall, fine-looking 
 fellow, of about two or three and thirty, with marked and handsome 
 features, which, however, conveyed 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 ac- 
 knowledgment ; 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 manner there was no mistaking. This was neither 
 the fitting time nor place to seek any explanation of the circum- 
 stance ; 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 re-seated her- 
 self upon the grass. 
 
 " Oh ! I delight in it," said she, enthusiastically. 
 
 " But you refused to dance." 
 
262 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 She hesitated, blushed, 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 inex- 
 pert?" 
 
 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 ?" 
 
 u 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. 1 do not like him. My father 
 prefers him to any one else, invites him daily here, and, in fact, 
 installs him as his first favorite. But still, I cannot like him ; and 
 yet I have done my best to do so." 
 
 " Indeed I" said I, pointedly. '* What are his chief demerits ? 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 distinguished himself on several occa- 
 sions ; 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 noto- 
 rious duellist. My brother, too, knows more of him, and always 
 avoids him. But let us not speak further : I see his eyes are again 
 fixed on us ; and, somehow, I fear him, without well knowing 
 wherefor." 
 
 A movement among the party ; shawls and mantillas were sought 
 for on all sides, and the preparations for leave-taking appeared gen- 
 eral. 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 com- 
 menced in concert a little Portuguese song of farewell, each verse 
 concluding with a Good-night ! which, as they separated and held 
 their way homeward, might now and then be heard rising upon 
 the breeze, and wafting their last thoughts back to her. The con* 
 eluding 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. 
 
THE VILLA. 263 
 
 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 proffered 
 by Don Emanuel, and warmly seconded by his daughter, I, too, 
 wished my Good-night ! and turned my steps homeward. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIX. 
 
 THE VILLA. 
 
 THE first object that presented itself to my eye the next morn- 
 ing was the midshipman's packet, entrusted to my care by 
 Power. I turned it over to read the address more carefully, 
 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'll go 
 together." 
 
 I should rather have declined the invitation, but, not well know- 
 ing 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 cer- 
 tainly seen before, and in a moment remembered it was that of the 
 dragoon of the evening before. He passed quite close, and fixing 
 his eyes steadily on me, evinced no sign of recognition. 
 
 The parade lasted above two hours, and it was with a feeling of 
 impatience that I mounted a fresh horse to canter out to the villa. 
 
264 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 When I arrived, the servant informed me that Don Emanuel was 
 in the city, but that the Senhora was in the garden, offering at the 
 same time to escort me. Declining this honor, I entrusted 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 sing-' 
 ing a Venetian canzonetta, in a low, soft, warbling tone, as one lost 
 in a reverie — as though the music was 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 alone subdued, while the 
 short upper lip, which trembled with every passing thought, spoke 
 of a nature tender and impressionable, 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 amid the long tresses of her hair, 
 that, as if in the wantonness of beauty, fell carelessly upon her 
 shoulders. 
 
 It was some time before I could tear myself away from the fasci- 
 nation of so much beauty, and it needed no common effort to leave 
 the spot. As I made a short dttour in the garden before approach- 
 ing 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 of a letter to you.. 
 How far it may interest you I know 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 " 
 
THE VILLA. 265 
 
 " 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, enthusiastically, 
 and tearing open the letter, she pressed it to her lips, her eyes spark- 
 ling 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 midship- 
 man's letter could have called 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 myself wherefor, 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 remem- 
 bered 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 have not lost the lock of hair he sent me !" 
 
 I was quite dumbfounded at this, and could not remember 
 whether I had received it from Power or not ; so I answered at ran- 
 dom, — 
 
 " 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 manner. 
 " If I find such a means of making my visit an agreeable 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 messen- 
 ger. Do you know he was one of my lovers ?" 
 
 " One of them ! Indeed ! Then pray how many do you number 
 at this moment ?" 
 
 " What 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 How- 
 ard?" 
 
 " I cannot say that we are personally acquainted, but I am ena- 
 bled, through the medium of a friend, to sa^ 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 sol- 
 emnly to my heart. 
 
266 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 "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 even- 
 ing 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 construed his bow ; so I cer- 
 tainly intended my own. 
 
 It requires no common tact to give conversation the appearance 
 of unconstraint and ease when it is evident that each person oppo- 
 site is laboring under excited feelings ; 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 
 awkwardness arose ; for as we walked together towards the house, 
 where our horses stood, neither party seemed disposed 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 unsought-for companionship, re- 
 turned alone to the town. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 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 member of his family. The company 
 consisted of the Adjutant, Monsoon, Ferguson, Trevyllian, and some 
 eight or ten officers with whom I was unacquainted. As is usual on 
 such occasions, the wine circulated freely, and, amid 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 op- 
 posite Trevyllian, with whom, upon more than one occasion, I hap- 
 pened to differ in opinion ; the question was in itself some trivial 
 and unimportant one, yet the tone which he assumed, and of which 
 
THE DINNER. 267 
 
 I, too, could not divest myself in reply, boded anything rather than 
 an amicable feeling between us. The noise and turmoil about pre- 
 vented the others remarking the circumstance ; but I could perceive 
 in his manner what I deemed a studied determination to provoke 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'Mal- 
 ley, there, 1 have rarely sojourned with," cried the Major ; " look, 
 if they haven'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 per- 
 fumed 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 with his clenched 
 fist ; " show me the man would deny it !" 
 
 "Why, my dear fellow " 
 
 " Don't be dearing me. Is it no you'll be saying to 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 fol- 
 lowing 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 fierceness of a tiger ; the 
 veins in his forehead were swollen and distorted, and the whole ex- 
 pression 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 attention 
 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 con- 
 science, I believe he spent his mornings looking for them in the Old 
 Testament. Sure ye might have heard what happened to him at 
 
2G8 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Banagher, when he commanded 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 Kilkennys, — 
 who, I may remark, en 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 pipeclaying, and polishing them up. 
 1 Nothing will make soldiers of you/ said Peter ; ' but by the rock of 
 Cashel, I'll keep you as clean as a new musket !' Now, poor Peter 
 himself was not a very warlike figure ; he 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 for 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 drawn 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 exhibited 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'Toolc, inspect this individual.' Now, the sergeant was rather a 
 favorite with Mac ; for he always pretended to understand his phrase- 
 ology, and, in consequence, was pronounced by the colonel a very 
 superior man for his station in life. ' Sergeant,' said he, ■ we shall 
 make an exemplary illustration of our system here.' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' said the sergeant, sorely puzzled at the meaning 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 up of his head, and a wave of 
 his right arm, signs, whenever he made them, incontestably 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 might 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 sec the 
 
THE DINNER. 269 
 
 sergeant coming up, all splashed with water, and looking quite 
 tired. 
 
 " ' 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 ?' 
 
 " i Oh, troth, he's there safe ! Divil a fear he'll get out !' 
 
 " ' Where ?' said Mac. 
 
 " ' In the river, yer honor.' 
 
 " ' What have you done, you scoundrel V 
 
 " ' Didn't I do as you bid me ?' says he ; ' didn't I throw him in, and 
 lave [leave] him there V 
 
 "And faith so they did ; and if he wasn't a good swimmer, and 
 get 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 
 doubtless 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 I why didn'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 mo- 
 ment I might have hesitated about. "Yes," thought I, "she'll 
 never discover the cheat ; and, besides, I do feel — I know not exactly 
 why — rather gratified to think that I shall have left this souvenir 
 behind me, even though it call up other recollections than of me." 
 So thinking, I wrapped my cloak about me, and hastened towards 
 the Casino. 
 
270 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 nearer. 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 I" 
 
 "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 I'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 possi- 
 bly allude. He knew of my attachment to Lucy Dashwood — 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 quar- 
 ter? and yet, what other news could I care for or value than what 
 bore upon her fate upon whom my own depended? Thus ruminat- 
 ing, I reached the door of the spacious building in which the Adju- 
 tant-General had taken up his abode, and soon found myself among 
 a crowd of persons whom the rumor of some important event had 
 assembled there, though no one could tell what had occurred. Be- 
 fore many minutes the door opened, and Power came out ; bowing 
 hurriedly to a few, and whispering 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 Welles- 
 ley, 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, un- 
 informed as I was, I knew but little of his career whose name hud 
 even then shed such lustre upon our army ; but the buoyant tone of 
 Power as he spoke, the kindling 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 
 
THE ROUTE. 271 
 
 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, 
 or 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 re- 
 gain 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 undress; 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'll 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 imper- 
 tinent varlet he is : only to think of him there, presiding among a 
 set of fellows that have fought all the battles in the Peninsular war. 
 At this moment, I'll 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 for 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, boys ; 
 
 When he sings out so large, 
 
 ' Fix bayonets and charge,' 
 He sets all the Frenchmen a-dancing, boys ! 
 
 " Let Mounseer look ever so big, my boys, 
 Who cares for fighting a fig, my boys ? 
 When we play Garryowen, 
 He'd rather go home ; 
 For somehow, he's no taste for a jig, my boys!" 
 
272 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 This admirable lyric seemed to be a perfect success, if one were 
 only to judge from the thundering of voices, hands, and drinking 
 vessels which followed ; while a venerable 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 confu- 
 sion 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 prevented 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 remembered ; but stay — what is this ? 
 To be sure, how forgetful I had become ! It was the packet I des- 
 tined for Donna Inez, and which, in the confusion of the night 
 before, I had omitted to take to the Casino. 
 
 I immediately despatched Mike to the Commissary with my lug- 
 gage, and orders to ascertain when we were expected 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 toilette 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 plea- 
 sure was to sport and amuse herself with the passions she excited 
 in others. And even if she were not — if her heart were to be won 
 to-morrow — what claims, what right, had I to seek it? My affec- 
 
THE FAREWELL. 273 
 
 tions wore 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 my spirit. 
 
 If there be anything more disheartening to an Irishman, in his 
 little affaires de cceur, than another, it is the sense of rivalry. The 
 obstinacy of fathers, the ill will of mothers, the coldness, the indif- 
 ference of the lovely object herself, — obstacles though they be, — he 
 has tact, spirit, and perseverance to overcome them ; but when a 
 more successful candidate for the fair presents himself; when the 
 eye that remains downcast at his suit lights up with animation at 
 another's coming ; when the features whose cold and chilling apathy 
 to him have blended in one smile of welcome to another, — it is all 
 up with him : he sees the game lost, and throws his cards upon the 
 table. And yet, why is this? why is it that he, whose birthright it 
 would seem to be sanguine 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 con- 
 fess it ! 
 
 Having jogged on so far with my reader, in all the sober serious- 
 ness which the matter-of-fact material of these memoirs 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 con- 
 clude that by this time you have given way to a most immoderate 
 excess of risibility; but still, when you have perfectly recovered 
 your composure, I beg to repeat, the Irishman is essentially a bash- 
 ful 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 circum- 
 stances as these. But, on the other hand, when measuring his 
 capacity, his means of success, his probabilities of being preferred, 
 with those of the natives of any other country, I back the Irishman 
 against the world for distrust of his own powers, for an under-esti- 
 mate of his real merits ; in one word, for his bashfulness. But let 
 us return to Donna Inez. 
 18 
 
274 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 As I rode up to the villa, I found the family assembled at break- 
 fast. Several officers were also present, among whom I was not 
 sorry to recognize my friend Monsoon. 
 
 " Ah, Charley !" cried he, as I seated myself beside him, " what 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 
 mines — likes you very much. And then, there's Sparks " 
 
 " Ay, Major, 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 with 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 table." 
 
 "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 didn'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 burnt brandy in 
 your coffee." 
 
 " Then you don't thmk the Senhora will appear?" 
 
 " Very unlikely. But stay, you know her room — the small draw- 
 ing-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 Emanuel that there was 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 ? not so soon, surely ?" 
 
THE FAREWELL. 275 
 
 " 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 laughter, 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 downright 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 per- 
 fectly 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." 
 
 " 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 win- 
 dow. 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 chamber. 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. 
 
276 CHARLES O'M 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." 
 
 Her head gently drooped as I said these words, till it sunk upon 
 my shoulder, 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 heart 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 discrimination. 
 But little time had I for reflection ; as I reached the city, the brig- 
 ade to which I was attached was already under arms, and Mike im- 
 patiently waiting my arrival with the horses. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIII. 
 
 THE MARCH. 
 
 WHAT a strange spectacle did the road to Oliveira present 
 upon the morning of the 7th of Mav ! 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 ex- 
 pression and bright eye that beamed on every side assured him that 
 men who looked thus could not be beaten ones. Horse, foot, bag- 
 gage, artillery, dismounted dragoons, even the pale and scarcoly-re- 
 
THE MARCH. 277 
 
 covered inhabitants of the hospital, might have been seen hurrying 
 on ; for the order, " Forward I" 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 devotion were not unfrequent. 
 As for me, long years and many reverses have not obliterated— 
 scarcely blunted — the impression that sight made on me. The 
 splendid spectacle of a review had often excited and delighted me ; 
 but here there was 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 quickstep; while the 'long line of 
 cavalry, their helmets and accoutrements shining 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. 
 
 " Close up there, — trot !" cried out a deep and manly voice, 
 and immediately a general officer 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 yet known for certain. The report goes that Soult 
 is advancing upon Oporto, and the chances are that Sir Arthur in- 
 tends 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 ex- 
 pected to have been peaceably settled down in Lisbon for the next 
 six months, and he has received orders to set out for Beresford's 
 head-quarters 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 con- 
 foundedly. 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 staved." 
 
278 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " 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 zephyr 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 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'll only wait till we reach Portalegre, I'll tell you the story; not 
 that it is worth the delay, but talking at this brisk pace I don't ad- 
 mire." 
 
 " You leave a detachment here, Captain Power," said an aide-de- 
 camp, riding hastily up ; " and General Cotton requests you will 
 send a subaltern and two sergeants forward towards Berar, to recon- 
 noitre the pass. Franchesca's cavalry are reported in that quarter." 
 So speaking, he dashed spurs to his horse, and was out of sight in 
 an instant. 
 
 Power at the same moment wheeled to the rear, from which he 
 returned in an instant, accompanied by three well-mounted light 
 dragoons. " Sparks," said he, " now for an occasion of distinguish- 
 ing 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 was Sparks despatched on what it was evident he felt 
 to be anything but a pleasant duty, than I turned towards Power, 
 and said, with some tinge of disappointment in the tone, "Well, if 
 you really felt there was 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 
 
THE MARCH. 279 
 
 selected Sparks simply to spare you one of the most unpleasant 
 duties that can be imposed upon a man — a duty which, let him dis- 
 charge it to the uttermost, will never be acknowledged, and the 
 slightest failure in which will be remembered for many days against 
 him, besides the pleasant and very probable prospect of being se- 
 lected as a bull's eye for a French rifle, or carried off a prisoner ; eh, 
 Charley ? there's no glory in that, devil a ray of it ! Come, come, 
 old fellow, Fred Power's not the man to keep his friend out of the 
 mdee 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'Malley, 
 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 gentle- 
 manlike gout, that merely jogs his memory in the morning of the 
 good wine he has drunk 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 blun- 
 ders, 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 Don- 
 oughmore.' n 
 
 " 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?" 
 
280 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Never ; 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 row in 
 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 col- 
 loquy 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. No men have 
 less impertinent curiosity as to the cause of the quarrel ; wisely sup- 
 posing that the principals know their own affairs best, they cau- 
 tiously 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.' 
 
 " ' We'll spend the day here/ says Considine, ' at this rate. 
 Couldn'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 loading the 
 pistols again. 
 
 " By this time we were so near, that we had full opportunity 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 V said I. 
 
 " ' You're not Billy Caples?' said he. 
 
 " ' Devil a bit/ said I, ' nor I don't think you're 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 eccentricities should turn 
 up for discussion on a march in Portugal was singular enough ; but, 
 after all, life is full of such incongruous incidents. I remember 
 once supping with King Calzoo on the Blue Mountains, in Jamaica. 
 By way of entertaining his guests, some English officers, he ordered 
 one of his suite to sing. We were of course pleased at the oppor- 
 tunity of hearing an Indian war-chant, with a skull and thigh-bone 
 accompaniment; but what was our astonishment to hear the Indian — 
 
THE MARCH. 281 
 
 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 Racoon" 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 prepared 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's no 
 such picnics as campaigning presents ; the charms of the scenery 
 are greatly enhanced by their coming unexpectedly on you. Your 
 chance good fortune in the prog has an interest that no ham-and- 
 cold-chicken affair, prepared by your 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 excite- 
 ment that this same life of ours is never without, gives a zest " 
 
 " There you've hit it," cried Hixley ; " it's that same feeling of un- 
 certainty that those who meet now may never do so again, full as it 
 is of sorrowful reflection, that still teaches us, as we become inured 
 to war, to economize our pleasures, and to be happy when we may. 
 Your health, O'Malley, and your uncle Godfrey's, too." 
 
 "A little more of the pastry?" 
 
 " What a capital guinea fowl this is J" 
 
 u That's some of old Monsoon's old particular port." 
 
 "Pass it round here; really this is pleasant." 
 
 " My blessing on the man who 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 becom- 
 ing downright pastoral. A propos of kissing, I understand Sir 
 Arthur won't allow the convents to be occupied by troops." 
 
 " And ct propos 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 
 
282 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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'll sing you a Portuguese serenade when the next bottle 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 Monsoon — ' for 
 hospital use.' He gave it with a tear in his eye, saying, as the ser- 
 geant marched away, ' Only think of such 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 V said Power. " Take time, man, and collect 
 yourself." 
 
 " The French ! I saw them a devilish deal closer than I liked ; 
 they wounded one of the orderlies and took the other prisoner." 
 
 "Forward!" cried out a hoarse voice in the front. "March — 
 trot!" 
 
 . Before we could obtain any further information from Sparks, 
 whose faculties seemed to have received a terrific shock, we were 
 once more in the saddle, and moving onward at a brisk pace. 
 
 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 these 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 tra- 
 versed by a broad river. 
 
 "That looks very like taking up a position, though," said 
 Power. 
 
THE BIVOUAC. 283 
 
 " Look — look down yonder !" cried Hixley, pointing to a dip in 
 the plain beside the river ; H 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, ad- 
 vancing to the main army ; and what was my delight to find that 
 one of them was our own corps, the 14th Light Dragoons. 
 
 " Hurrah !" cried Power, waving his cap as he came up. " How 
 are you, Sedgwick? Baker, my hearty, how goes it? How are 
 Hampton and the Colonel ?" 
 
 In an instant we were surrounded by our brother officers, who all 
 shook 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 introduced 
 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 conversa- 
 tion 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 that I listened to the details of movements 
 
284 CHARLES 0' MALLET. 
 
 and marches, whose objects I knew not, but in which the magical 
 words Corunna, Vimeira, were mixed up, and gave to the circum- 
 stances an interest of the highest character. How proud, too, I felt 
 to be the companions in arms of such fellows ! Here they sat, the 
 tried and proved soldiers of a hundred fights, treating me as their 
 brother and their equal. Who need wonder if I felt a sense of ex- 
 cited pleasure? Had 1 needed such a stimulant, that night beneath 
 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 hour 
 to-morrow you will occupy the pass, and cover the march of the 
 troops. It is his wish that all the reinforcements should arrive at 
 Oporto by noon. I need scarcely add that we expect to be engaged 
 with the enemy." 
 
 These few words were spoken hurriedly, and, again saluting our 
 party, he turned his horse's head and continued his way towards 
 the rear. 
 
 *' There's news for you, Charley," said Power, slapping me on the 
 shoulder. " Lucy Dashwood or Westminster Abbey !" 
 
 " The regiment never was in finer condition, that's certain," 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 
 to 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 blushing fifteen, 
 Here's to the damsel that's merry, 
 Here's to the flaunting, extravagant quean n 
 
 " And," said Power, interrupting, — 
 
 " Here's to the ' Widow of Deny.' " 
 
 " 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 Brussels carpet with wet 
 
THE BIVOUAC. 285 
 
 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, Fred ?" 
 
 "And to prove it," said the Colonel, " Power will 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 Adjutant. 
 " I'll be hanged if he'll not knock you off a song like lightning." 
 
 " I understand," said Hixley, " th^y 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. 
 
 " Now, then," said Power, " are you all ready ?" 
 
 " Ready !" 
 
 " You must chorus, mind ; and, mark me, take care you give the 
 hip, hip, hurrah ! well, as that's the whole force of the chant. Take 
 the time from me. Now for it. Air, ' Garryowen,' 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 waves adorning, 
 Let's give one hip, hip, hip, hurrah ! 
 And drink e'en to the coming day, 
 When, squadron square, 
 We'll all he 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, hurrah ! 
 And drink e'en to the coming day, 
 When, squadron square, 
 We'll all be there, 
 To meet the French in the morning. 
 
286 CHARLES 0' MALLET. 
 
 " And, when with years and honors crowned, 
 You sit some homeward hearth around, 
 And hear no more the stirring sound 
 
 That spoke the trumpet's warning, — 
 You'll till, and drink, one hip, hurrah ! 
 And pledge the memory of the day, 
 When, squadron square, 
 They all were there, 
 To meet the French in the morning." 
 
 " Gloriously done, Fred I" 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 whisky for every victory of the 
 army." 
 
 "A devilish good chant," said Merivale ; " but the air surpasses 
 anything I ever heard : thoroughly Irish, I take it." 
 
 " Irish ! upon my conscience, I believe you !" shouted O'Shaugh- 
 nessy, with an energy of voice and manner that created a hearty 
 laugh on all sides. " It's few people ever mistook it for a Venetian 
 nrelody. 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 quickstep. Ould 
 M'Manus, when he got the regiment, wanted to change ; he said 
 they were d — vulgar tunes, and wanted to have 'Kule Britannia,' 
 or the ' Hundredth Psalm ;' but we would not stand it ; there would 
 have been a mutiny in the corps." 
 
 " The same fellow, wasn't he, that you told the story of, the other 
 evening, in Lisbon?" said I. 
 
 "The same. Well, what a character he was ! As pompous 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 regi- 
 ment. She was a fine, showy, vulgar woman, with a most cherishing 
 affection for all the good things in this life, except her husband, 
 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." 
 
 " Maybe you heard, too, how I paid off Mac, when he came down 
 on a visit to that county." 
 
 " Never ; let's hear it now." 
 
 "Ay, O'Shaughnessy, now's your time ; the fire's a good one, the 
 night fine, the liquor plenty." 
 
 " I'm convenient" said O'Shaughnessy, as, depositing his enormous 
 
THE BIVOUAC. 287 
 
 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 didn'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. I Sure I met you at -Mrs. Cayle's,' said I ; ' and by the 
 same token — it was a Friday, I remember it well, — maybe you didn't 
 pitch into the salt cod? I hope it didn't disagree with you ?' 
 
 " ' I beg to repeat, sir, that you are under a mistake,' said he. 
 
 " ' Maybe so, indeed,' said I ' Maybe you're not Colonel M'Manus 
 at all ; maybe you wasn't in a passion for losing seven-and-six-pence 
 at loo with Mrs. Moriarty ; maybe you didn't break the lamp in the 
 hall with your umbrella, pretending you touched it with your head, 
 and wasn't within three foot of it ; maybe Counsellor Brady wasn't 
 going to put you in the box of the Foundling Hospital, if you 
 wouldn't behave quietly in the streets ' 
 
 " Well, with this the others laughed so heartily that I could not 
 go on ; and the next stage the bold Colonel got outside with the 
 guard, and never came in till we reached Limerick. I'll never forget 
 his face, as he got down at Swinburne's Hotel. - Good-bye, Colonel,' 
 said I ; but he wouldn't take the least notice of my politeness, but, 
 with a frown of utter defiance, he turned on his heel and walked 
 away. 
 
 " ' I haven'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 O'Grady. 
 
288 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' Shaugh, my boy/ says he, — he called me that way for short- 
 ness, — ' dine with me to-day at Mosey's : a green goose and goose- 
 berries ; six to a minute.' 
 
 " ' Who have you ?' says I. 
 
 "'Tom Keane and the Wallers, a counsellor or two, and one 
 \TManus, 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 toilette, and when 
 I looked in my glass at its completion, was well satisfied that I had 
 done myself justice. A waistcoat of brown rabbit-skin with flaps, 
 a red worsted comforter 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 presentable 
 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 wouldn't know you !' 
 
 " ' Would I be the better of a wig?' 
 
 "'Leave your hair alone,' said he. 'It's painting the lily to 
 alter it.' 
 
 " ' Well, God's will be done,' said I, ' so come now.' 
 
 " Well, just as the clock struck six I saw the Colonel come out of 
 his room, in a suit of most accurate sable, stockings, and pumps. 
 Down stairs he went, and I heard the waiter announce him. 
 
 " ' Now's my time,' thought I, as I followed slowly after. 
 
 " When I reached the door, I heard several voices within, among 
 which I recognized some ladies. Darby had 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 the door slowly, and putting in only my head and 
 shoulders, took a cautious look round the room. 
 
 " ' I beg pardon, gentlemen,' said I, ' but I was only looking 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 ' 
 
THE BIVOUAC. 289 
 
 '''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.' 
 
 " I It's a little affair I have to settle with him/ said I, with a fierce 
 look, that I saw produced its effect. 
 
 " ' Then perhaps you would do me the very great favor to join him 
 at dinner,' said O'Grady. 'Any 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 see 
 there's another difficulty. I've ordered a chop and potatoes up 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 Ennis ; 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, amazement, indignation, rage, and 
 misery, never was mixed up in one face before. Speak he could 
 not ; and I saw that, except 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, uponjbhe 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 allu- 
 sions to the Colonel ; in a word, ere the soup had disappeared, 
 except himself, the company were 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 — ' Mac and I were schoolfellows five- 
 and-thirty years ago ; though he forgets me, I don't forget him ; to 
 19 
 
290 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 pears that Mac had just stolen in the 
 orchard, and had in his hat. I wish you only saw the Bishop ; and 
 Mac himself he was a picture. Well, well, you forget it all now, 
 but I remember it as if it was only yesterday. Any champagne, 
 Mr. O'Grady ? I'm mighty dry.' 
 
 " ' Of course,' said Darby. l Waiter, some champagne here.' 
 
 " 'Ah-, it's himself was the boy for every kind of fun and devil- 
 ment, 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 try- 
 ing to assure himself that it was not some horrid dream. 
 
 " 'A little slice more of the turkey/ said I, ' and then, O'Grady, 
 I'll try your hock. It's a wine I'm mighty fond of, and so is Mac 
 there. Oh I 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'll not think I'm taking a liberty in giving a toast. 
 Here, then, I'll give M'Manus's health, with all the honors ; though 
 it's early yet, to be sure, but we'll do it again, by-and-by, when the 
 whisky 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 bristling 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 deep 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. Before 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 morn- 
 ing ; be that as it may, we never met since." 
 
THE DOURO. 291 
 
 I have related O'Shaughnessy's story here, rather from the mem- 
 ory 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. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLV. 
 
 THE DOTJRO. 
 
 NEVER did the morning break more beautifully than on the 
 12th of May, 1809. Huge masses of fog-like vapor had suc- 
 ceeded 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 current, 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 the 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, in order 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 spec- 
 tacle met our eyes ! Before us, in a narrow valley, separated from 
 the river by a low ridge, were picketed three cavalry regiments, 
 their noiseless gestures and perfect stillness bespeaking 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 the columns glittering 
 with the bright equipments of their cavalry, whose steel caps and 
 lances were sparkling in the sunbeams. The bivouac fires were still 
 smouldering, marking 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 dark masses of infantry might be 
 
292 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 seen moving from place to place, while the long line of the road to 
 Vallonga was marked with a vast cloud of dust. The French 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 prepa- 
 ration. 
 
 " 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 await- 
 ing the moment when this inactivity should cease. More than one 
 orderly had arrived among us, bearing despatches from head-quar- 
 ters ; 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 
 anxiously 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 pursuit. 
 
 " Well, Charley," said Power, laying his arm upon my shoulder, 
 " the French have given us the slip this time. They are already on 
 the 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 most 
 particularly. Don't blush, man ; I'd rather have 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 fordable. I've mentioned 
 your name to the General, and I think you'll be sent for soon. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 I buckled on my sword, and, looking to my girths, stood watching 
 the groups around me, when suddenly a dragoon pulled his horse 
 
THE DOURO. 293 
 
 short up, and asked a man standing 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 
 t Wellesley, with the mere words " With haste!" on the envelope. 
 
 Now, which way to turn I knew not. Springing into the saddle, 
 I galloped to where Colonel Merivale was standing talking to the 
 colonel of a heavy dragoon regiment. 
 
 " May I ask, sir, by which road I am to proceed with this des- 
 patch?" 
 
 "Along the river, sir," said a heavy, large, dark-browed man, 
 with a most forbidding look. " You'll 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 forward, plunged 
 twice with his head nearly to the earth, and then, rearing madly up, 
 fell backward upon 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 that 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 
 downward into a little declivity, sheltered by the bank from the 
 French fire. 
 
 When I arrived at head-quarters, 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 general offi- 
 cers and people of the staff, I was turning to ask how I should pro- 
 ceed, when Hixley caught my eye. 
 
 " Well, O'Malley, what brings you here?" 
 
 " Despatches from General Murray." 
 
 " Indeed ; oh ! follow me." 
 
294 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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, "des- 
 patches 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 neces- 
 sary to assure me that he was one in authority. The look of com- 
 mand his bold and 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 others in 
 mastery. 
 
 " Send General Sherbrooke 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." 
 
 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 uniform, 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 Murray — but you appear weak You, Gor- 
 don, will desire Murray to effect a crossing at Avintas with the Ger- 
 mans and the 14th. Sherbrooke'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 
 
THE DOURO. 295 
 
 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 murmured. 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 engrossed every mind and occupied every heart. 
 I was standing near the window ; the effect of my fall had stunned 
 me for a time, but I was gradually recovering, and watched with a 
 thrilling heart the scene before me. Great and absorbing as was my 
 interest in what was passing without, 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, cer- 
 tainly 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 thun- 
 dering artillery, he dared the deed. What must have been his con- 
 fidence 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 hastily. After 
 whispering a few words to Colonel Waters, he left the room. 
 
 " One boat is already brought up to the crossing-place, and en- 
 tirely concealed by the wall of the orchard." 
 
 " Let the men cross," was the brief reply. 
 
 No other word was spoken as, turning from the window, he closed 
 his telescope, and, followed by all the others, descended to the 
 court-yard. 
 
 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, 
 
296 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 and such was the impatience of the men to cross, it was with diffi- 
 culty they were prevented trying the passage by swimming, when 
 suddenly Power appeared, 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 
 ihe 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 detach- 
 ments 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 thun- 
 dered away in one long roll, amid 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. 
 
 tl Fourteenth, threes about, close up, trot !" called out the loud 
 and manly voice of our leader, and the heavy tramp of our squad- 
 rons shook the very ground, as we advanced towards the road to Val- 
 longa. 
 
 As we came on, the scene became one of overwhelming excite- 
 ment; the masses of the enemy that poured unceasingly from the 
 town could now be distinguished more clearly ; and, amid all the 
 crash of gun-carriages and caissons, the voices of the staff officers 
 rose high as they hurried along the retreating battalions. A troop 
 of flying artillery galloped forth at top speed, and, wheeling their 
 
THE DOURO. 297 
 
 guns into position with the speed of lightning, prepared by a flank- 
 ing fire to cover the retiring column. The gunners sprang from 
 their seats, the guns were already unlimbered, when Sir George Mur- 
 ray, riding up at our left, called out, — 
 
 " Forward — close up — charge !" 
 
 The word was scarcely spoken, when the loud cheer answered the 
 welcome sound, and the same instant the long line of shining hel- 
 mets passed with the speed of a whirlwind ; 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 en- 
 thusiasm of a fox-hunt, when the loud cry of the hounds, answered 
 by the cheers 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 commingled in my mind, 
 but leave no trace of clearness or connection between them ; and it 
 was only when the column wheeled to re-form, behind the advancing 
 squadrons, that I awoke from my trance of maddening excitement, 
 and perceived that we- had carried the position, and cut off the guns 
 of the enemy. 
 
 " Well done, 14th I" 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. 
 
 "There go the Germans !" said Power, pointing to the remainder 
 of our brigade, as they 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 destruc- 
 tive tide of the artillery had swept through them. The speed of the 
 flying columns momentarily increased ; 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 retreat- 
 ing columns, while the brigade of Guards and the 29th pressed hotly 
 on their rear. 
 
 The scene was now beyond anything maddening in its interest. 
 
298 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 From the walls of Oporto the English infantry poured forth in pur- 
 suit, while the whole river was covered with boats, as they still con- 
 tinued to cross over. The artillery thundered from the Sierra, to 
 protect the landing, for it was even still contested, in places ; and 
 the cavalry, charging 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 us, unmolested and unassailed, and not even a can- 
 non-shot arrested their steps. 
 
 Some unaccountable timidity of our leader directed this move- 
 ment; and while before our very eyes the gallant infantry 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 galloped up with the order to take ground still further back, 
 and nearer to the river. 
 
 The word was scarcely spoken, when a young officer, in the uni- 
 form of a general, dashed impetuously up ; he held 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 which 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 carnage was 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 moment that the remainder 
 of our brigade should have come to our aid ; but not a man appeared. 
 However, there was not an instant to be lost ; already the plunging 
 fire of the four-pounder had swept through our files, and every mo- 
 ment increased our danger. 
 
 " Now, my lads, forward !" cried our gallant leader, Sir Charles 
 Stewart, as, waving his sabre, he dashed into the thickest of the fray. 
 
THE DOURO. 299 
 
 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 sweep- 
 ing 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 remembered no more around me. I kept my saddle, 
 it is true, but I lost every sense of consciousness ; my first glimmer- 
 ing of 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, darlin' ; do now. Oh, wirra ! what'll I ever say to 
 the master ? and you doing so beautiful ! Wouldn'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, darlin', restin' yourself." 
 
 " Well, Charley, my poor fellow, you've got sore bones, too," cried 
 Power, as, his face swathed in bandages and covered with blood, he 
 lay down on the grass beside me. " It was a gallant thing while it 
 lasted, but has cost 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 
 Power 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 the 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. 
 
300 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 _• THE MORNING. 
 
 THERE are few sadder things in life than the day after a battle. 
 The high-beating hopes, the bounding spirits, have passed 
 away, and in their stead comes the depressing reaction by 
 which every overwrought excitement is followed. With far differ- 
 ent 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 !" 
 
 and upon the cold and barren heath, whose only memory of the past 
 is the blood-stained turf, the 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 fresh- 
 ness and elasticity in the air which certain days possess, and com- 
 municate 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 gladness, as it rippled on against its sedgy 
 banks ; the foliage, too, sparkled in the fresh dew, 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 amid broad and fertile fields of 
 tall grass and waving corn, backed by deep and mellow woods, which 
 were lost to the view upon the distant hills ; below, the river, widen- 
 ing 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 meditation, or rather in that 
 state of dreamy thoughtfulness in which the past and present are 
 combined, and the absent are alike before us as are the things we 
 look upon. 
 
THE MORNING. 301 
 
 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, beside 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 hand, 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 a 
 stern determination to seem calm. 
 
 A cavalry helmet and a large blue cloak lay upon the ground. 
 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 mo- 
 ment sounded the call ; its clear notes rang sharply through the thin 
 air ; it was the soldier's requiem I We turned away without speak- 
 ing, 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 affec- 
 tions — 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 ex- 
 cite by some anecdote of your boyish days, some well-remembered 
 trait of youthful daring or early enterprise ! Many a year of sun- 
 
302 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 shine and of storm has passed over my head. I have not been 
 without my moments of gratified pride and rewarded ambition ; but 
 my heart has never responded 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 ?" cried 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 different 
 corps were falling into position to the enlivening sounds of their 
 quickstep, the trumpets of the cavalry rang loudly through the 
 valley, and the clatter of sabres and sabretasches, 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'll 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 artil- 
 lery, 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 narrow 
 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 were the first things I beheld, as /they came on 
 without roll of drum or sound of fife. I watched with a soldier's 
 pride the manly bearing and gallant step of the dense mass as they 
 denied 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 pri- 
 soners of war. 
 
 What a sad sight it was ! There was the old and weather-beaten 
 
THE REVIEW. 303 
 
 grenadier, erect in frame and firm in step, his gray moustache 
 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 them, my attention was attracted to one who marched 
 alone behind the rest. He was a middle-sized but handsome youth 
 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 cross- 
 ing his arms upon his breast ; but probably perceiving in my look 
 more of interest than of triumph, his countenance suddenly changed, 
 a deep blush suffused his cheek, his eye beamed with a softened and 
 kindly expression, and, carrying his hand to his helmet, he saluted 
 me, saying, in a voice of singular sweetness, — 
 
 " Je vous souhaite 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. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 THE REVIEW. 
 
 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 was downcast, each heart was full. 
 Sorrow for him we had lost from amongst us forever, 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 strik- 
 
304 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 ingly opposite in their character and influences succeed so rapidly 
 one upon another, that the mind is kept in one whirl of excitement, 
 and at length accustoms itself to change with every phase of circum- 
 stances ; and between joy and grief, hope and despondency, enthu- 
 siasm 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, followed by the sharp clatter 
 of muskets as they were raised to the shoulder, announced that 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 gal- 
 loped 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 1 am 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 Lieutenant-General Sherbroke with the 
 Guards and 29th Eegiment, 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, ob- 
 tained 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 they 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 regiment my 
 opinion of them, as expressed in general orders?" 
 
 The Colonel bowed low in acquiescence. 
 
 " Fitzroy, you have got the memorandum, I hope ?" 
 
THE REVIEW. 305 
 
 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 reported 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." 
 
 " I believe I have mentioned it, Sir Arthur. 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 some- 
 what 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 gauger." 
 
 Mickey's ideas of promotion, thus insinuatingly put forward, threw 
 the whole party around 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. 
 
 " Divil a one o' me knows his name," replied he ; " maybe it's 
 Bony himself." 
 
 "And how do you know he's there still ?" 
 
 " How do I know, is it? Didn't I tie him last night?" 
 
 Curiosity to find out what Mickey could possibly allud* 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 nothing less than a French officer of cavalry, that 
 Mike had unhorsed in the m$l6e } and wishing, probably, to preserve 
 20 
 
306 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 some testimony of his prowess, had made prisoner, and tied fast to 
 a cork-tree, the preceding evening. 
 
 "Sacrebleu !" said the poor Frenchman, as we approached, " ce 
 sont des sauvages I" 
 
 " Av it's making your sowl ye are," said Mike, " you're right ; for 
 maybe 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 myself 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 countryman had but little experience in the usages of 
 war, while we proceeded to unbind him, and liberate him from his 
 miserable bondage. 
 
 " It's letting him loose you are, Captain I 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'll 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 forninst me, divil resave the 
 prisoner I'll take again." 
 
 So saying, he slowly returned to the regiment, while Power and I, 
 having conducted the Frenchman to the rear, cantered towards the 
 town to learn the news of the day. 
 
 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 was collected in both. Military music, church bells, drinking 
 
THE REVIEW. 307 
 
 choruses, were all commingled in the din and turmoil ; processions 
 in honor of " Our Lady of Succor" were jammed up among bacchan- 
 alian 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 oppor- 
 tunities 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 violence; 
 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 fall- 
 ing state; the roof, from which Paget had given his orders, and 
 where he was wounded, had fallen in. The French cannon had fis- 
 sured the building from top to bottom, and it seemed only awaiting 
 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 hand- 
 ful of brave fellows who thus threw themselves amid the overwhelm- 
 ing legions of the enemy, and at once, without waiting for a single re- 
 inforcement, opened a fire upon their ranks. Bold as the enterprise 
 unquestionably was, we still felt with what consummate judgment it 
 had been planned ; — a bend of the river concealed entirely the pas- 
 sage of the troops, the guns of the Sierra covered their landing, and 
 completely swept one approach to the seminary. The French, being 
 thus obliged to attack by the gate, were compelled to make a con- 
 siderable detour before they reached it, all of which gave time for 
 our divisions to cross ; while the brigade of Guards, under General 
 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 the narrow streets, a destruc- 
 tive musketry pouring all the while from window 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 gall- 
 ing fire of small-arms from the seminary, and the far more destruc- 
 tive shower of grape that poured unceasingly from the Sierra. 
 
308 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 Val- 
 longa. 
 
 " 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 Ger- 
 man brigade and three squadrons of our regiment to pursue 
 the French upon the Terracinthe road by daybreak on the fol- 
 lowing 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 features, 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 meUe of yesterday ; 
 but more I know not. In fact, it was my first day 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 em- 
 ployed 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 evi- 
 dently cost him much. 
 
 As for me, my agitation was scarcely less, as, fumbling for some 
 seconds in my portmanteau, I drew forth the long destined packet. 
 As I placed it in his hands he grew deadly pale, and a slight spas- 
 modic twitch in his upper lip bespoke some unnatural struggle. He 
 
THE QUARREL. 309 
 
 broke the seal suddenly, and as he did so, the morocco case of a 
 miniature fell upon the ground ; his eyes fell 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 suc- 
 cess is a secret to you ?" 
 
 " I'm really not aware " 
 
 " You probably think, 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 
 becalm; "stop; you have said enough, quite enough, to convince 
 me of what your object was in seeking me here 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 quickness 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 con- 
 gratulations upon all your good fortune." 
 
 The sneering emphasis the last words were spoken with remained 
 fixed in my mind long after he took his departure ; 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 wait ; for scarcely had I thrown my cloak around 
 me, when he rode up. He had ju3t seen Hammersley, and learned 
 something of our interview. 
 
 " Why, Charley, my dear fellow, what is this ? How have you 
 treated poor Hammersley ?" 
 
 " Treated him ! say, rather, how has he treated me." 
 
 I here entered into a short but accurate account of our meeting, 
 during which Power listened with great composure, while I could 
 perceive, from the questions he asked, that some very different im- 
 pression had been previously made upon his mind. 
 
 " And this was all that passed?" 
 
310 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "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 Dashwood, 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 Hammersley has never recovered from a sabre- 
 wound he received some months since upon the head ; his intellects 
 are really affected by it. Leave it all to me. Promise not to 
 leave your quarters till I return, and I'll 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 Power 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 Hammersley. 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. In this state of doubt and uncertainty I paced 
 impatiently up and down, anxiously watching for Power's return, 
 in the hope of at length getting some real insight into the diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 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 moments' conversation with 
 you?" 
 
 I bowed silently, while he dismounted, and passing his bridle 
 beneath his arm, walked on beside me. 
 
THE QUARREL. 311 
 
 " My friend Captain Hammersley has commissioned me to wait 
 upon you about this unpleasant affair " 
 
 " I beg pardon for the interruption, Captain Trevyllian, but as I 
 have yet to learn to what you and your friend allude, 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 permission to enter 
 into any of it, he probably presuming, as I certainly did myself, 
 that your sense of honor would have deemed further 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 understanding 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 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 
 inexperienced 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 who 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 
 
312 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 mean- 
 ing, 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." 
 
 "Nor mine," said he, as, with a low bow, and a look of most in- 
 effable triumph, 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. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIX. 
 
 THE ROUTE. 
 
 I WAS leisurely examining my pistols — poor Oonsidine's last 
 present to me on leaving home — when an orderly sergeant 
 rode rapidly 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. 
 
 " 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 allow- 
 ances 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 ap- 
 
THE ROUTE. 313 
 
 proached in the direction. I stood, and I hesitated whether I should 
 not rather seek him at once, than continue to wait on in ray 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 forgotten, I hastily 
 returned, and ordered Mike to 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 overheard 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. Meanwhile, 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 Beau- 
 mont, unfolding a map as he spoke. " You will proceed from this, 
 with half* a troop of your regiment, by forced marches, towards the 
 frontier, passing through the town of Calenco, and Guarda, and the 
 Estrella pass. On arriving at the head-quarters of the Lusitanian 
 Legion, which you will find there, you are to put yourself under 
 the orders of Major Monsoon, commanding that force. Any Portu- 
 guese 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 dear 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 V 
 
314 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " 'Admirably,' was my answer. 
 " ' Can you depend upon his promptitude V 
 " ' He'll 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-bye. I hope you will have a pleas- 
 ant 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 written instruc- 
 tions 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, I 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 passing. 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 the appointment ; 
 to do so was to prejudice 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 Power, 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 impatience my heart was burn- 
 ing with. I dashed along the lines towards Oporto, neither hearing 
 nor seeing aught around me, when suddenly the clank of cavalry 
 accoutrements behind induced me to turn my head, and I perceived 
 an orderly dragoon at full gallop in pursuit. I pulled up till he 
 came alongside. 
 
 "Lieutenant O'Malley, sir," said the man, saluting, "these des- 
 patches are for you." 
 
 I took them hurriedly, and was about to continue my route, when 
 the attitude of the dragoon arrested my attention. He had reined 
 in his horse to the side of the narrow causeway, and, holding him 
 
THE WATCH-FIRE. 315 
 
 still and steadily, sat motionless as a statue. I looked behind, and 
 saw the whole staff approaching at a brisk trot. Before I had a 
 moment for thought they 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'll 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 wait- 
 ing, 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 word 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 
 out-post duty have a charm for .him no other portion of his 
 career possesses. The field seems open for individual 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 distinction. 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 
 
316 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 inter- 
 ested 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, 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. Hammersley's strange con- 
 duct 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 roman- 
 tic 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 amid 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 Galician melody as 
 he went. 
 
 As the sun was setting, we arrived beside a little stream, that, 
 flowing along a rocky bod, skirted a vast forest of tall cork trees. 
 
THE WATCH-FIRE. 317 
 
 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 ; while the glassy 
 water reflected on its still surface the starry sky that, unshadowed 
 and unclouded, stretched above us. I wrapped myself in my troop- 
 er'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 reverie. There was a 
 character of adventure in my position that charmed me much. My 
 men were gathered in groups beside the fires ; some were sunk in 
 slumber, others sat smoking silently, or chatting, in a low and under- 
 tone, 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 fancy to the bandit legends I had read in boyhood. By the uncer- 
 tain 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 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 de- 
 ferred, was over-powerful ; 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 
 
318 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 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 together, and was about again to stretch myself to rest, 
 when I felt a hand upon my 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 over his shoulders ; one hand was pressed upon his 
 bosom, and with the other he motioned me to silence. My first im- 
 pression was that our party was surprised by some French patrol ; 
 but as I looked again, I recognized, to my amazement, that the indi- 
 vidual before me was the young French officer I had seen that 
 morning a prisoner beside the Douro. 
 
 " How came you here ?" said I, in 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 feel- 
 ing, that made my very heart creep. " I thought you were a party 
 of Lorge's dragoons, scouring the country 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 day- 
 break, 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 tat- 
 tered uniform, and without a covering to his head, there was no 
 mistaking for a moment that he was of gentle blood. Noiselessly 
 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 pre- 
 sent destitute condition, seemed to have fled ; and while I dressed 
 his wound and bound up his shattered arm, he chatted away as un- 
 concernedly about the past and the future as though seated beside 
 the fire of his own bivouac, surrounded by his own brother officers. 
 
THE WATCH-FIRE. 319 
 
 " You took us by surprise the other day," said he. " Our Mar- 
 shal 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 
 tcontradict 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 Dieul Treachery 1" cried he, striking his forehead with 
 his clenched fist. 
 
 " Not so ; mere daring — nothing more. But come, tell me some- 
 thing 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 ; when coming back, my horse 
 grew tired in the heavy ground, and 1 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 
 time bruised by the fall, when an infantry soldier, passing by, seized 
 me by the collar, and brought me to the rear. No matter, however, 
 here I am now. You will not give me up ; and perhaps I may one 
 day live to repay 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 passtes to-day. You are 
 advancing, I suppose?" 
 
 I smiled, without answering this question. 
 
 " Ah, I see you don't wish to speak ; never mind, your discretion 
 is thrown aw r ay upon me ; for if I rejoined my regiment to-morrow, 
 I should have forgotten all you told me — all but your great kind- 
 ness." 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 d 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 cherj 
 
320 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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. 
 
 " You have never seen the Emperor ?" 
 
 "Never." 
 
 " Sacrebleu ! What a man he is ! Fd 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 before me this instant, and though you will con- 
 fess 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, flirta- 
 tion, 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 punishment, was ordered to absent myself from the Tuileries, and 
 retire for some weeks to Fontainebleau. Siberia to a Russian 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 soli- 
 tude 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, fol- 
 lowed by the roll of a heavy carriage into the gloomy court-yard. 
 One lamp, shining like a star, in a small chamber on the second 
 floor, would remain till near four, 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 
 
THE WATCH-FIRE. 321 
 
 others were also there, expiating their follies by a life of cheerless 
 ennui. 
 
 " It was upon a calm evening in April, we sat together 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 from off the rest, and re- 
 served for the Emperor alone. It was already beyond the hour he 
 usually came ; besides that, even should he arrive, there was abun- 
 dant 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 my turn to make the tour of the garden. As I was sup- 
 posed 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 length, 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 on, I sprang upon his back ; just, how- 
 ever, as I rose to leap over, he raised his head, and, staggered by the 
 impulse of my spring, he was thrown forward, and, after an ineffec- 
 21 
 
322 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 tual effort to keep his legs, fell flat upon his face in the grass. Burst- 
 ing 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 word, not a syllable escaped him. 
 
 " ' Qui etes-vous V said he, at length. 
 
 " ' St. Croix, sire, 5 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 V 
 
 " I did not wait for a second intimation, but clearing the paling 
 at a spring, was many a mile from Fontainebleau before daybreak." 
 
 CHAPTEE LI, 
 
 THE MARCH. 
 
 TWICE the reveille sounded ; the horses champed impatiently 
 their heavy bits ; my men stood waiting for the order to mount 
 ere I could 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 for- 
 getful 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 moustache, slightly curled at the top, gave to 
 his mild and youthful features an air of saucy fiertt 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 attached to it. It was beautifully painted, 
 and surrounded with brilliants of some value. One glance show r ed 
 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 everything in his air and manner be- 
 spoke him such. I gently replaced the precious locket, and turned 
 
THE MARCH. 323 
 
 from the spot, to think over what was best to be done for him. 
 Knowing the vindictive feeling of the Portuguese towards their in- 
 vaders, I feared to take Pietro, our guide, into my confidence. I ac- 
 cordingly 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 army, in which, 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 
 Napoleon, 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. 
 
 "Ilviendra, et puis " was the continued exclamation of the young 
 
 Frenchman. Any notion of our successfully resisting the over- 
 whelming 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 per- 
 mitted 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 army, whatever be the merely momentary mishap, 
 is the one present thought of a Frenchman ; a victory with them is 
 a conquest ; a defeat— if they are by any chance driven to acknowl- 
 edge one— zfatalitS. 
 
 I was too young a man, and, still more, too young a soldier, to 
 
324 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 bear with this absurd affectation of superiority as I ought, and con- 
 sequently 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 the Tuileries. The scenes passing before his eyes were calculated 
 to make a strong impression ; and by many an anecdote of his for- 
 mer 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 Dieu! that was an unfortunate affair for me: then 
 began all my mishaps ; but for that, I should never have been sent 
 to Fontainebleau — never have played leap-frog with the Emperor — 
 never have been sent a soldier into Spain. True," said he, laugh- 
 ing, " I should never have had the happiness of your acquaintance. 
 But still, I'd much rather have met you first in the Places des Vic- 
 toires than in the Estrella Mountains." 
 
 " Who knows?" said I; "perhaps your good genius prevailed in 
 all this." 
 
 " Perhaps," said he, interrupting me ; " that's exactly what the 
 Empress said— she was my godmother — ' Jules will be a Marshal 
 de France yet.' But certainly it must be confessed I have made a 
 bad beginning. However, you wish to hear of my disgrace at 
 court., Attons, done. But had we not better wait for a halt?" 
 
 " Agreed," said I ; " and so let us now press forward." 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 THE PAGE. 
 
 "T" "TNDER, the deep shade of some tall trees, sheltered from the 
 noonday sun, we lay down to rest ourselves, and enjoy a 
 V_y most patriarchal dinner. Some dry biscuits, a few bunches 
 of grapes, and a little weak wine, -savoring more of the boraccio-skin 
 than the vine-juice, were all we boasted; yet they were not unac- 
 ceptable 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 beaux yeux ! whoever she be," said he, gayly, tossing off 
 his wine ; " and now, if you feel disposed, I'll tell you my story. In 
 good truth, it is not worth relating, but it may serve to set you 
 asleep, at all events. 
 
THE PAGE. 325 
 
 " I have already told you that I was a page. Alas ! the impres- 
 sions you may feel of that functionary, from having seen Cheru- 
 bino, give but a faint notion of him when pertaining to the house- 
 hold 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 Monsieur Fouch6. 
 While on service, our days were passed in the ante-chamber, beside 
 the salle oVaudience of the Emperor, reclining against the closed 
 door, watching attentively for the gentle tinkle of the little bell 
 which summoned us to open for the exit of some haughty diplo- 
 mate, or the entree of some redoubted general. Thus passed we the 
 weary hours. The illustrious visitors by whom we were surrounded 
 had no novelty, consequently no attraction for us, and the names 
 already historical were but household words with us. 
 
 " We often remarked, too, the proud and distant bearing the Em- 
 peror assumed to those of his generals who had been his former 
 companions in arms. Whatever familiarity or freedom may have 
 existed in the campaign or in the battle-field, the air of the Tuile- 
 ries certainly chilled it. I have often heard that the ceremonious 
 observances and rigid etiquette of the old Bourbon court were far 
 preferable to the stern reserve and unbending stiffness of the Impe- 
 rial one. 
 
 " The ante-chamber is but the reflection of the reception-room ; 
 and whatever be the whims, the caprices, the littleness of the Great 
 Man, they are speedily assumed by his inferiors, and the dark tem- 
 per of one casts a lowering shadow on every menial by whom he is 
 surrounded. 
 
 " As for us, we were certainly not long in catching somewhat 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 arresting the step 
 of M. de Talleyrand, as he approached the Emperor's closet ! With 
 what easy insolence have I lisped out, ' Pardon, monsieur, but his 
 Majesty cannot receive you f 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 perfec- 
 tion, and became at last the very horror and detestation of all who 
 
326 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 address- 
 ing us a mere question. 
 
 " Among the amiable class thus characterized I was most con- 
 spicuous. Preserving cautiously a tone of civility that left nothing 
 openly to complain of, I assumed an indifference and impartiality 
 of manner that no exigency of affairs, no pressing haste, could dis- 
 compose 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 per- 
 son'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 in the morn- 
 ing of the names to be presented in rotation, which no casual cir- 
 cumstance 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. As I cast my 
 eyes carelessly over the names, I read little else than Vice- Admiral 
 so-and-so, Commander such-a-one, and Chef d'Escadron such 
 another, and the levee presented, accordingly, instead of its usual 
 brilliant 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 flatter- 
 ing. 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 im- 
 portance to communicate. Meanwhile, the ante-chamber 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 moustache curled 
 over and concealed his mouth, while eyebrows of the same color 
 shaded his dark and piercing eyes. His dress was a coarse coat of 
 blue cloth, such as the fishermen wear in Bretagnc, fastened at the 
 waist by a broad belt of black leather, from which hung a short 
 broad-bladed cutlass ; his loose trousers, of the same material, were 
 turned up at the ankles, to show a pair of strong legs, coarsely cased 
 
THE PAGE. 327 
 
 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 salut- 
 ing 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 question to my- 
 self, 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 Boulogne 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 ante-chamber.' There was something so strange and so orig- 
 inal in the grim look of the old fellow, as he sat there alone, that I 
 suifered 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 of voice, 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 Breton features, his deep voice, his dry, blunt 
 manner, were all in admirable keeping with his exterior, and amused 
 me highly. 
 
 " i Par Dieu I 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 ; l provided the hour be an early one, 
 I'm his man.' 
 
 " With difficulty did I keep down my laughter as he said this, and 
 continued, — 
 
 " ' So you know the Emperor already, it seems ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, that I do ! I remember him when he was no higher than 
 yourself.' 
 
 " ' How delighted he'll be to find you here. I hope you have 
 brought up some of your family with you, as the Emperor would be 
 so flattered by it?' 
 
328 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " ' 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 wreck 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 o' them able to carry you with one hand at arm's 
 length !' 
 
 " ' I have no doubt ; I shall certainly not test their ability. But 
 you yourself, how do you like the capital ?' 
 
 " ' Not over well, and I'll 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 ad- 
 mitted?' 
 
 " ' Not present, your Majesty,' said I, trembling with fear. 
 
 " ' Hold there, young fellow. Not so fast ; here he is.' 
 
 " 'Ah, Truguet, mon ami V cried the Emperor, placing both hands 
 on the old fellow's shoulders ; ' how long have you been in wait- 
 ing?' 
 
 " ' 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. 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 pres- 
 ence ! 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 my kind, my more than kind 
 
THE PAGE. 329 
 
 friend, the Empress, obtained my pardon and sent me to Fontaine- 
 bleau, 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 acknowledge that I have not been fortunate in my inter- 
 views 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 constituted 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 Men, 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'll meet again, be assured of it. Meanwhile, 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 
 will be, prisoners with your army in this war. Whenever, therefore, 
 your lot brings you in contact with such " 
 
 "They shall be my brothers," said he, springing 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 per- 
 ceived, for the first time, that, when taking his farewell of me, he 
 had hung round my neck his miniature of the Empress. Poor boy! 
 how sorrowful I felt thus to rob him of what he 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 
 
330 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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. Aris- 
 ing 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, 'mid the tears they call 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. 
 
 NOTHING of incident marked our further progress towards 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 women 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 tfceir artillery and 
 baggage; that the French were rapidly advancing, and expected 
 hourly to arrive at Alvas, in consequence of which the terror- 
 stricken inhabitants were packing up their possessions 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 completely tired by a march of fourteen 
 leagues, and had a pressing need of some rest ; on every side of me 
 the preparations for flight were proceeding with all the speed that 
 fear inspires ; and to my urgent request for some information as to 
 food and shelter, I could obtain no other reply than muttered men- 
 aces of the fate before me if I remained, and exaggerated accounts 
 of French cruelty. 
 
 Amid all this bustle and confusion, a tremendous fall of heavy 
 
ALVAS. 331 
 
 rain set in, which at once determined me, come 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 tre- 
 mendous 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 uproar 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. 
 
 Kesolving, 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 went 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 ; seme 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 amongst them. . 
 
 It was just at this critical moment that a sudden gleam of light 
 from a window fell upon the disordered mass, and to my astonish- 
 ment — I need not say, to my delight — I perceived that they were 
 Portuguese troops. Befote 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 Hidalgos ! cut 
 them down; los injidelos, sacrificiados los — scatter them like chaff!" 
 
 One roar of laughter was my only answer to this energetic appeal 
 for my destruction, and the moment after, the dry features and pleas- 
 ant 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 mincemeat of 
 them otherwise ; now they shall be well treated, and ransomed if 
 they prefer." 
 
332 Off A II L ESS 'MA LIE Y. 
 
 "Gracias excdlcnzc /" said I, in a feigned voice. 
 " Give up your sword," said the Major, in an undertone. " You 
 behaved gallantly, but you fought against invincibles. Lord love 
 them ! but they are the most terrified invincibles." 
 I nearly burst aloud at this. 
 
 " It was a close thing which of us ran first," muttered the Major, 
 as he turned to give some directions to an aide-de-camp. "Ask them 
 who they are," said he, in Spanish. 
 
 By this 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 that 
 he had not been charging the General's staff*, and the Commander- 
 in-Chief 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 merciful 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 ap- 
 peared. 
 
 "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 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 that was 
 just a mere chance ; one has so many things " Muttering such 
 
AL VAS. 333 
 
 broken, disjointed sentences, the Major opened a large portfolio 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 : — 
 
 " ' Head-Quarters, Alvas, June 26. 
 
 " ' Your Excellency, 
 
 " l Having learned from Don Alphonzo Xaviero 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 Victor, had commenced a 
 
 forward 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 following 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 needn't put that in, if you don't like. 
 
 " ' I now directed a charge of the cavalry brigade under Don As- 
 turias Y'Hajos, that cut them up in fine style. Our artillery, posted 
 on the heights, mowed away at their columns like fun. 
 
 " ' Victor didn'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, 
 got devilishly 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'm getting ! 
 
 " ' The 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 en- 
 closed return, that our loss has been considerable. 
 
334 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " ' I send this despatch by Don Emmanuel Forgales, whose ser- 
 vices ' 
 
 " I back him for mutton hash with onions against the whole regi- 
 ment 
 
 " 'Have been of the most distinguished nature, and beg to recom- 
 mend him to your Excellency's favor. 
 
 " ' I have the honor, &c.' 
 
 " 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 func- 
 tions 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, 
 introducing me, as well as I could interpret 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 
 wines ; but never do I remember enjoying a more welcome sup- 
 per 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 ?" 
 
 " Not so badly, Major. I have already got a step in promotion. 
 The affair at the Douro gave me a lieutenancy." 
 
 " I wish you joy with all my heart. I'll 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." 
 
 "I should think not, Major. You seem to have always made a 
 good thing of it." 
 
THE SUPPER. 335 
 
 "No, 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 Alcan- 
 tara?" 
 
 " I prefer the latter." 
 
 " Well, then, I'll have it. Lord ! what a treaty I'll move for with 
 Portugal, to let us have wine cheap. Wine, you know, as David 
 says, gives us a pleasant countenance ; and oil, I forget what oil 
 does, — p a s S over the decanter. And how is Sir Arthur, Charley? 
 A fine fellow, but sadly deficient "in the knowledge of supplies — 
 Never would have made any character in the commissariat. Bless 
 your heart, he pays for everything here, as if he were in Cheap- 
 side." 
 
 " How absurd, to be sure !" 
 
 " Isn't it, though ? That was not my way, when I was commis- 
 sary-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 was 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 pension 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'll tell you 
 how it occurred. After the battle of Vimeira, the brigade to which 
 I was attached had their head-quarters at San Pietro, a large con- 
 
33G CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 vent where all the church plate for miles around was stored up for 
 safety. A sergeant's guard was accordingly stationed over the re- 
 fectory, and every precaution taken to prevent pillage, Sir Arthur 
 himself having given particular orders on the subject. Well, some-- 
 how, — 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-candle- 
 sticks, Virgin Marys, ivory crucifixes, saints' eyes set in topazes, 
 and martyrs' toes in silver filigree, 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 endeavored to repair the mishap, but 
 all looked on in terrified amazement as to what was to follow. 
 
 " ' Who has 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 — 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 confoundedly un- 
 pleasant, but it 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. Isn't that all, Gronow ¥ 
 cried I, in a supplicating voice. 
 
 " ' Very possibly, Major,' said he ; ' but I must execute my 
 orders.' 
 
 "' You'll surely not ' Before I could finish, up came Dan 
 
 Mackinnon, cantering smartly. l Going to hang old Monsoon, eh, 
 Gronow ? What fun !' 
 
 " ' Ain't it, though ?' said I, half blubbering. 
 
THE SUPPER. 337 
 
 " ' 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 sinner,' said he, ' it's useless.' 
 
 " ' Dan, I'll forgive you the fifteen pounds.' 
 
 " ' That you owe me, 1 said Dan, laughing. 
 
 "'Who'll ever be the father to you I have been ? Who'll mix 
 your punch with burnt 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'll speak for the old villain, 
 and if I succeed, I'll wave my handkerchief.' 
 
 " 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 eyeing 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 Sixth Foot. Come, Major, off 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 laughing.' 
 
 " ' 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 resumed 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 himself; 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 ?' 
 22 
 
338 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " ' 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 for- 
 give themselves. But, Charley, my hearty, we are getting on slowly 
 with the tipple. Are they all empty ? So they 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 court-yard. 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 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 between 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 his 
 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 wouldn't say a lie before 
 the holy man beside me ; sure I wouldn't, father." 
 
 The friar grunted out something in reply, not very unlike, in 
 sound at least, a hearty anathema, 
 
 " Ah, then, isn'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, was 
 just such another as yourself, and he'd coax the birds off the trees 
 
THE SUPPER. 339 
 
 with the tongue of him. Give us a pull at the pipkin before it's all 
 gone, and I'll 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, your rev'rance, a good chorus is all I'll ask, and you'll 
 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 " St. Patrick was 
 a gentleman." 
 
 " What an illigant 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 to 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 of 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 'tis 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 when 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'll have a little 
 warm 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, neither party being in a condition for 
 performing upon the tight-rope. 
 
340 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 THE LEGION. 
 
 MY services while with the Legion were of no very distinguished 
 character, and require no lengthened chronicle. 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 
 a corps of observation to the eastward. There were some wounded 
 to be looked after, a speech to be made to the conquering heroes 
 themselves, and, lastly, a few prisoners were taken, whose fate 
 seemed certainly to partake of the most uncertain of war's prover- 
 bial chances. 
 
 The despatches gave little trouble ; with some very slight altera- 
 tions, 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 up his Portuguese; and, 
 lastly, came to the prisoners, by far the most difficult of all his cares. 
 As for the few common soldiers taken, they gave him little uneasi- 
 ness ; as Sir John has it, they were " mortal men, and food for pow- 
 der;" but there was a staff officer among them, aiguilletted and 
 epauletted. The very decorations he wore were no common temp- 
 tation. Now, the Major deliberated a long time with himself 
 whether the usages of modern war might not admit of the ancient, 
 time-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 remained. 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 
 time 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 
 
THE LEGION. 341 
 
 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 earrings. You needn't 
 laugh ; they all wore earrings, those fellows did. Now, why shouldn't 
 I profit by their good example ? I have taken Agag, the king of the 
 Amalekites — no, but, upon my 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 head-quar- 
 ters were at no great distance, the danger of such a step as he medi- 
 tated 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 is true, and some occasional 
 outpost duty was performed ; but the officers 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 head-quarters, the less 
 gifted and less congenial spirit had the happiness of scouring the 
 country for forage, and presenting himself as a target to a French 
 rifle. 
 
 My own endeavors to fulfil my instructions met with but little 
 encouragement or support ; and although I labored hard at my task, 
 I must confess that the soil was a most ungrateful one. The cav- 
 alry were, it is true, composed mostly of young fellows well ap- 
 pointed, 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 drummer-boy — the same reckless, indolent, plun- 
 der-loving spirit prevailed everywhere. And although under fire 
 they showed no lack of gallantry or courage, the moment of danger 
 past, discipline departed with it, and their only conception of bene- 
 fiting 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 reorganizing his beaten army, 
 was, in conjunction with Ney's corps, returning from the North ; 
 that the Marshals were consolidating their forces in the neighbor- 
 hood 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 
 
342 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 gradually wider. His speculations upon the future 
 were singularly prophetic. " You'll 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 organized and ill to depend on; we'll 
 go up the mountains till all is over !" Thus did the Major's discre- 
 tion not only extend to the avoidance of danger, but he actually 
 disqualified himself 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 the words of the Major, " contented and grateful, even 
 amid great perils I" 
 
 CHAPTEE LVI. 
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 ON the morning of the 10th July, a despatch reached us an- 
 nouncing that Sir Arthur Wellesley had taken up his head- 
 quarters at Placentia, for the purpose of communicating with 
 Cuesta, then at Casa del Puerto, and ordering me immediately to 
 repair to the Spanish head-quarters, 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 appeared 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 comes when the evening is far ad- 
 vanced ; 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 ?" 
 
THE DEPARTURE. 343 
 
 "There, Charley, hush — be cautious, my boy. I'd rather not 
 speak about that till we get amongst our own fellows." 
 
 " Just as you like, Major ; but, do you know, I have a strong curi- 
 osity to hear the narrative ?" 
 
 " If I'm not mistaken, there is some one listening at the door — 
 gently — that's it, eh ?" 
 
 " No, we are perfectly alone ; the night's early — who knows when 
 we shall have as quiet an hour again together ? Let me hear it by 
 all means." 
 
 " Well, I don't care. The thing, Heaven knows ! is tolerably 
 well known ; so, if you'll amuse yourself making a devil of the 
 turkey's legs there, I'll 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 with Loison's corps, I was ordered to convey a 
 very valuable present of sherry the Due d' Albuquerque 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 ac- 
 cordingly ordered with a sufficient force to provide for its safe-con- 
 duct and secure arrival, and set out upon my march one lovely 
 morning in April with my precious convoy. 
 
 " I don't know, I never could understand, why temptations 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 in my nose, I forget everything except appropriation. — That 
 bone smells deliciously, Charley ; a little garlic would 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 falling in with any forage parties. 
 We journeyed along for several days, rarely making more than a 
 few leagues between 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, its rich straw tint, its oily 
 look as it flowed into the glass, the mellow after-taste, warming the 
 
344 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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. 'Maybe it's brown sherry/ 
 thought I, ' and I am all wrong.' This was a very distressing reflec- 
 tion. I mentioned it to the Portuguese Intendant, who travelled 
 with us as a kind of supercargo ; but the villain only grinned, and 
 said something about the Junta and the galleys for life ; so I did 
 not recur to it afterwards. Well, it was upon the third evening of 
 our march that the scout reported that at Merida, about a league 
 distant, he had fallen in with an English cavalry regiment, who 
 were 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 countrymen, and hear the news. When 
 I arrived it was 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 with 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 con- 
 voy — dilating upon the qualities of the wine, as if I had been drink- 
 ing 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-bye, 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 me, and calling out my name. 
 
 " 'I say, Monsoon ; Major, confound you, pull up.' 
 "'Well, what's the matter? has any more lush turned up?' in- 
 quired I — for we had drunk the tap dry when I left. 
 
 " * Not a drop, old fellow,' said he ; ' but I was thinking of what 
 you've been saying about that sherry.' 
 " ' Well I what then ?' 
 
 Why, I want to know how we could get a taste of it ?' 
 'You'd better get elected one of the Cortes/ said I, laughing; 
 ■ for it does not seem likely you'll 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 in the mountains/ said I, with a knowing 
 
THE DEPARTURE. 345 
 
 look, { where ambuscades and surprise parties would be highly dan- 
 gerous.' 
 
 " ' And your party consists of ?' 
 
 " * About twenty Portuguese, all ready to run at the first shot.' 
 
 " ' I'll do it, Monsoon ! I'll be hanged if I don't.' 
 
 " ' But Tom,' said I, ' don't make any blunder ; only blank cart- 
 ridge, my boy.' 
 
 " \ Honor bright !' cried he ; ' your fellows are armed, of course V 
 
 " * Never think of that ; they may shoot each other in the confu- 
 sion ; but if you only make plenty of noise coming on, they'll never 
 wait for you.' 
 
 " ' What capital fellows they must be !' 
 
 "'Crack troops, Tom; so don't harm them. And now, good- 
 night.' 
 
 " As I cantered off, I began to think over O'Flaherty's idea, and, 
 upon my life, I didn't half like it. He was a reckless, devil-may- 
 care fellow, and it was 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 amongst us not ready to run at the slightest sound of attack on 
 any side. As evening was falling, we reached Morento, a little 
 mountain pass which follows the course of a small river, and where 
 in many places the mule-carts had barely space enough to pass be- 
 tween the cliffs and the stream. ' What a place for Tom O'Flaherty 
 and his foragers !' thought I, as we entered the little mountain gorge ; 
 but all was silent as the grave ; except the tramp of our party, not 
 a sound was heard. There was something solemn and still in the 
 great brown mountain, rising like a vast wall on either side, with a 
 narrow streak of gray sky at top, and in the dark sluggish 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'll 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. 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 
 
346 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 V 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 devotions; fired a 
 volley straight at the new moon, and ran like men. 
 
 " I was knocked down in the rush. As soon as I regained 
 my 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 certain. 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 shout- 
 ing to my Portuguese friends to come back again. They came in 
 time, by twos and threes, and at last the whole party reassembled, 
 and we set forth again, — every man, from the Intendant to the 
 drummer, lauding my valor, and saying that Don Monsoon was * 
 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 ?" 
 
THE DEPARTURE. 347 
 
 " Oh, it's my fellow Mike. He asked my leave to entertain his 
 friends before parting, and I perceive he is delighting them with a 
 song." 
 
 " But what a confounded air it is ! Are the words Hebrew?" 
 
 " Irish, Major — most classical Irish, too, I'll be bound." 
 
 "Irish! I think I've heard most tongues; but that certainly 
 surprises me. Call him in, however, 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. 
 
 " 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 night- 
 cap 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 Mike, with a hiccup, 
 " barrin' 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 ancesthors, — 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 kissin' from beginning to end." 
 
 " A drinking song ?" said I. 
 
 " Whisky 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 Phenay- 
 ceans and Armanians, and when we worked all manner of beautiful 
 contrivances in goold and silver — bracelets, and collars, and tea- 
 pots, illigant to look at ; and read Roosian and Latin, and played 
 the harp and the barrel-organ ; and ate 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 himself. " My 
 ancesthors was great people in them days ; and sure it isn't in my 
 present situation I'd be av we had them back again— sorra bit, 
 
348 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 faith ! It isn't ' Come here, Mickey, bad luck to you, Mike !' or, 
 'That blackguard, Mickey Free!' people'd be calling me. But no 
 matter ; here's your health again, Major Monsoon " 
 
 " Never mind vain regrets, Mike. Let us hear your song ; the 
 Major has taken a great fancy to it." 
 
 "Ah, then, it's joking you are, Misther 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 amusement being derived from a tol-de-rol chorus of 
 the Major, which concluded each verse, and, indeed, in a lower key, 
 accompanied the singer throughout. 
 
 Since that I have succeeded in obtaining a free-and-easy transla- 
 tion 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 ver- 
 sion to be a very 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, which is 
 set to the air — " Na Guilloch y' Goulen." 
 
 " Oh ! once we were illigant people, 
 
 Though we now live in cabins of mud; 
 And the land that yc see from the steeple 
 ' Belonged to us all from the flood. 
 My father 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 rubies and pearls — 
 
 Mr. Petrie can tell you the same. 
 But, except some turf mould and potatoes, 
 
 There's nothing our own we can call ; 
 And the English— bad luck to then) !— hate us, 
 
 Because we've more fun than them all ! 
 
THE DEPARTURE. 349 
 
 " My grand-aunt was niece to St. Kevin, 
 
 That's the reason my name's Mickey Free ! 
 Priest's nieces — but sure he's in heaven, 
 
 And his failins is nothing 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-proctors, 
 
 Were crammed down the great gun of Athlone." 
 
 As Mike's melody proceeded, the Major's thorough bass waxed 
 beautifully less — now and then, it's true, roused by some moment- 
 ary strain, it swelled upward in full chorus ; but gradually these 
 passing nights grew rarer, and finally all ceased, save a long, low, 
 droning sound, like the expiring sigh of a wearied bagpipe. His 
 fingers still continued mechanically 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 oppressed them. 
 
 There he sat, the finished decanter and empty goblet testifying 
 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 contemplating 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 endeavored 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-bye, old fellow, good-bye !" 
 
 " Stand at ease !" 
 
 " Can't, unfortunately, yet awhile ; so farewell. I'll make a capi- 
 tal report of the Legion to Sir Arthur. Shall I add anything par- 
 ticularly from yourself?" 
 
 This, and the shake that accompanied it, aroused him. He started 
 up, and looked about him for a few seconds. 
 
350 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Eh, Charley ! You didn't say Sir Arthur was here, did you?" 
 
 " No, Major ; don't be frightened ; he's many a league 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; skirmish- 
 ing's our forte ; and for cutting off stragglers or sacking a town, 
 back them at any odds." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know all that : you've nothing more ?" 
 
 " Nothing," said he, once more closing his eyes and crossing 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 
 wouldn't drink." 
 
 "You horrid old humbug, what nonsense are you muttering 
 there?" 
 
 " Yes, yes ; Solomon says, ' Who hath red eyes and carbuncles V 
 — they that mix their lush? Pure tSnei/d 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." 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 CUESTA. 
 
 THE second day of our journey was drawing to a close as we 
 came in view of the Spanish army. The position they occu- 
 pied 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 inter- 
 esting kind. From the little mountain path we travelled, we be- 
 held beneath a force of thirty thousand men drawn up in battle 
 array; dense columns 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. 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 rest- • 
 
CUESTA. 351 
 
 ing 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 falling 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 ourselves 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 awaiting his coming ; he himself, over- 
 whelmed 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. 
 Having provided for the comforts of my tired cattle and taken a 
 hasty supper, I issued forth to look at the troops, which, although it 
 was now growing 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 struck 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 glow upon the grim and swarthy features of the Spaniards, 
 whose brown uniforms and slouching hats presented a most pictur- 
 esque 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 cen- 
 tury, his slashed doublet and trunk hose reminding 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 
 
352 CHARLES 0' MALLET. 
 
 appeared to be to sustain the chief in his seat. At his side rode a 
 far different 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 trousers being his un- 
 pretending 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 trappings, among whom I recognized some well-remem- 
 bered 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 frightened, 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 head-quar- 
 ters of the Spanish army, and thither the staff now bent their steps; 
 a supper being provided there for our Commander-in-Chief and the 
 officers of his suite. Although not of the privileged party, I lingered 
 round the spot for some time, anxiously expecting to find some 
 friend or acquaintance, who might tell me the news of our people, 
 and what events had occurred in my absence. 
 
 CHAPTEE 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 ap- 
 pointment, far more like a guerilla than a regular force. Then, 
 again, the strange contrast of the miserable hut, with falling chim- 
 neys 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, 
 
THE LETTER. 353 
 
 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 legible one — was per- 
 fectly 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 pro- 
 ceeded 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 : — Although I'd rather march to Lisbon bare- 
 foot than write three lines, Fred Power insists upon my turning 
 scribe, as he has a notion you'll be up at Cuesta's head-quarters 
 about this time. You're in a nice scrape — devil a lie in it ! Here 
 has Fred 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 much 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 doc- 
 tors can find it. But he's getting better anyway, and going to Lisbon 
 for change of air. Meanwhile, since Power's been wounded, Tre- 
 vyllian'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 matter in my hands, and I'm thinking we'd better 
 call out the ' heavies' by turns ; for most of them stand by Trevyl- 
 lian. 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'll have at it again this evening. Mean- 
 while, come over here, and let us be doing something. We hear 
 that old Monsoon has blown up a town, abridge, 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 eyes over these lines, was to seek 
 for Power's note, written on the morning we parted. I opened it, 
 and to my horror found that it only related to my quarrel with Ham- 
 in ersley. My meeting with Trevyllian had been during Fred's 
 absence; and when he assured me that all was satisfactorily ar- 
 23 
 
354 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 ranged 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 unwittingly incurred, — the blast I had 
 thrown upon my reputation, 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 pros- 
 pects, when they seemed fairest and brightest, presented itself to me 
 in a hundred shapes ; and when, overcome by fatigue and exhaus- 
 tion, 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- 
 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 footstep approach. I looked up, and saw before me no 
 other than my poor friend Sparks, from whom I had been separated 
 so long. Any other adviser at such a moment would, I acknowledge, 
 have been more 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 circu- 
 lated, that nothing but my return to head-quarters would avail, and 
 that I must not lose a moment in having Trevyllian out, with whom 
 all the misrepresentations 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 broken, 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 Gordon. Half an 
 
MAJOR O'SHAUGHNESSY. 355 
 
 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 foresight and pre- 
 caution, that I could scarcely credit my senses as he spoke. Having 
 at length agreed to his proposal, Sparks left me to think over my 
 return to the Legion, promising that immediately after my inter- 
 view with the Military Secretary, we should start together for head- 
 quarters. 
 
 CHAPTEE LIX. 
 
 MAJOR O'SHAUGHNESSY. 
 
 THIS is Major O'Shaughnessy'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, watch- 
 ing with eager and bloodshot eyes the process of cutting up a bul- 
 lock, 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 flickering of the wood embers on the hearth, and for some 
 moments I could not remember where I was. By degrees recollec- 
 tion came, and as I thought over my position and its possible con- 
 sequences, I was again nearly dropping asleep, 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 approached 
 the fireplace, 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- 
 
356 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 light ; a muttered execration upon the candle, given with an energy 
 that only an Irishman ever bestows upon slight matters, soon satis- 
 fied 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 backward, exclaiming, as he did 
 so, " The blessed Virgin be near us, what's this ?" a most energetic 
 crossing of himself accompanying his words. My pale and haggard 
 face, thus suddenly 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 thought 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 remains 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'll 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 yourself, my boy : crusty old port in that bottle as ever 
 you touched your lips to. Power's getting all right ; it was con- 
 tract 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." 
 
 " 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'll be back in twenty minutes or less." 
 
 Without waiting for any reply, he threw his cloak around him, 
 
MAJOR O'SHAUGHNESSY. 357 
 
 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 disappoint- 
 ment. 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'll not fight ! And why ?" 
 
 The Major was silent: he seemed confused and embarrassed; he 
 turned from the fire to the table, from the table to the fire, filled out 
 a glass of wine, drank it hastily off, and, springing from his chair, 
 paced the room with long, impatient 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'll fail this time. He was sitting with his friend 
 Beaufort when I reached his quarters, and received me with all the 
 ceremonious politeness 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 discuss, as I believed, 
 preliminaries, when the cool puppy, with his back to the fire, care- 
 lessly 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 ?' 
 
 v ( 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 1 
 can ; but I have a vague recollection of saying something 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 
 
358 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 thou- 
 sand 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 — nothing more can be done 
 to-night in any way. Be assured of one thing, my boy — I'll not 
 desert you ; and if that assurance can give you a sound sleep, you'll 
 not need a lullaby." 
 
 CHAPTEK 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 somehow taken posses- 
 sion of me, and I longed for O'Shaughnessy'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 conduct was one of unmixed condemnation among my 
 corps; but 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 induced 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 conceived that, by my not 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 circumstanced, 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. Conyers is at 
 Zarza la Mayor, with the 28th ; but what can he do ?" 
 
 " That I'm not able to tell you ! but I know O'Shaughnessy heard 
 
PRELIMINARIES. 359 
 
 something at parade this morning, and has set off in search of him 
 on every side." 
 
 " Was Conyers 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 meeting. 
 They say, O'Malley, he has heard of your shooting !" i 
 
 " No, no," said another, " he cares very little for any man's pis- 
 tol. If the story be true, he fires a second or two before his adver- 
 sary ; 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 hadn't, it would puzzle me to break it, for I'll 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 the attack of the viands before 
 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. 
 
 " 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 speak on that subject, Charley. But be 
 satisfied the reasons for which Trevyllian meets you are fair and 
 honorable." 
 
 " I am content." 
 
 11 The only thing now to be done is, to have the meeting as soon 
 possible." 
 
360 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " 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. 
 »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 EIGHT. • 
 
 SOME days after coming back to head-quarters, I was returning 
 from a visit I had been making to a friend at one of the out- 
 posts, 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 persons in different directions to find me. 
 
 Suspecting the object of the Major's haste, I hurried on at once. 
 As I rode up to the spot, I found him in the midst of a group of 
 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 settled 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 hastened to my quarters. 
 As I entered the room, I was followed 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 meeting, 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 matter be- 
 fore us. 
 
 "I have written a letter or two here, Major," said I, opening my 
 
ALL RIGHT. 361 
 
 writing-desk ; " in case anything happens, you will look to a few 
 things I have mentioned here. Somehow, I could not write to poor 
 Fred Power ; but you must tell him from me that his rude conduct 
 towards me was the last thing I spoke of." 
 
 "What confounded nonsense you are talking!" said O'Shaugh- 
 nessy, springing from his seat and crossing the room with tremen- 
 dous 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 understand the very coarse style of his inter- 
 ruption ? 
 
 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 dis- 
 approve of my conduct and bearing, when I am most firmly deter- 
 mined to alter nothing, I shall beg to relieve you of the unpleasant 
 office of my friend." 
 
 " Heaven grant that you could do so !" said he, interrupting 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 insen- 
 sibility 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 stood fair and un- 
 blemished 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, it is now half-past six ! Look 
 
362 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 to these pistols for me. Are they likely to object to hair- trig- 
 gers ?" 
 
 A knocking at the door turned off our attention, and the next 
 moment Baker's voice was heard. 
 
 " O'Malley, you'll 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 window, 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 excite- 
 ment remained; his usually dry, half-humorous manner had re- 
 turned, 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. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXII. 
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 A SMALL and narrow ravine between 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 des- 
 cend from the drag, and proceed the remainder 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 
 dtyagt 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 
 
THE DUEL. 363 
 
 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 proposition, 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." 
 
 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 fine- 
 ness 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 ap- 
 proach, and calmly awaited our coming. His eye glanced quickly 
 from the features of O'Shaughnessy to those of Baker ; but, seem- 
 ingly rapidly reassured as he walked forward, his face at once 
 recovered its usual severity, and its cold, impassive look of stern- 
 ness. 
 
 " All right !" said Beaufort in a whisper, the tones of which I 
 overheard as he drew near to his friend. Trevyllian smiled in re- 
 turn, 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, " Hallo, 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 perhaps the fairest way. I suppose you have no objection ?" 
 
 " Of course, I shall make none. Whatever O'Shaughnessy decides 
 for me I am ready to abide by." 
 
364 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " Well, then, as to the distance," said Beaufort, loud enough to be 
 heard by me where I was standing. O'Shaughnessy'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 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 feeling, 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." 
 
 As he spoke, he pitched the piece of money 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 the face. Not 
 so Trevyllian ; he pulled off his gloves without the slightest sem- 
 blance 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'Shaughnessy, who 
 did not seem to approve of the distance. " They have some con- 
 founded advantage in this, depend upon it," said the Major in a 
 whisper to Baker. 
 
 " Are you ready ?" inquired Beaufort. 
 
 " Beady — 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, 'tis just as well as it is." 
 
 Whether this was intended to be overheard and intimidate me I 
 knew not ; but its effect proved directly opposite. My firm resolu- 
 tion to hit my antagonist was now confirmed, and no compunctious 
 visiting unnerved my arm. As we took our places, some .little 
 
THE DUEL. 365 
 
 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 Trevyllian 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 reas- 
 sured, as it seemed by the glance he threw on all sides, his counten- 
 ance 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 
 am ready !" 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, the heavy sound of a 
 horse galloping along the rocky causeway seemed to take off his 
 attention. His frame trembled, his hand shook, and jerking up- 
 ward his weapon, the ball passed high above my head. 
 
 " You bear me witness I fired in the air," said Trevyllian, while 
 the large drops of perspiration rolled from his forehead, and his 
 features worked as if in a fit. 
 
 "You saw it, sir; and you, Beaufort, my friend, — you also. 
 Speak ! Why will you not speak ?" 
 
 "Be calm, Trevyllian; be calm, for Heaven's sake! What's the 
 matter with you ?" 
 
366 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " 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 perceived that another person had joined 
 our party ; he was a short, determined-looking man of about forty f 
 with black eyes and aquiline features. Before I had time to guess who 
 it might be, I heard O'Shaughnessy address him as Colonel Conyers. 
 
 "He is dying!" said Beaufort, still stooping over his friend, whose 
 cold hand he grasped within his own. " Poor, poor fellow I" 
 
 " He fired in the air," said Baker, as he spoke in reply to a ques- 
 tion 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 Conyers, 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 fellow now." 
 So saying, with Beaufort's aid he unbuttoned his frock, and suc- 
 ceeded in opening the waistcoat. There was no trace of blood any- 
 where, 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 disclosed 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 ; your 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 consciousness as Baker said, 
 " I can feel no pulse at his wrist — his heart, too, doe3 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 bullet was 
 found within his clothes. Some tremendous conflict of the spirit 
 within had snapped the cords of life, and the strong man had per- 
 ished in his agony. 
 
NEWS FROM GALWAY. 367 
 
 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 moun- 
 tain 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 de- 
 cision, " 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 melancholy 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 pros- 
 perity boasted. 
 
 While, therefore, I deeply felt the good part my friends were per- 
 forming towards me, I was still totally unsuited to join in the happy 
 current of their daily pleasures and amusements. The gay and 
 unreflecting character of O'Shaughnessy — the careless merriment of 
 my brother officers — jarred upon my nerves, and rendered me irri- 
 table 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 conceals the future seems to be re- 
 moved, and a glance, short and fleeting as the lightning flash, is per- 
 mitted 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 antici- 
 pation of the coming evil is perhaps one of the most poignant feat- 
 
368 CHARLES 0' M ALLEY. 
 
 ures of grief — the ever watchful apprehension — the ever rising ques- 
 tion, " 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 hospitable 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 unaccompa- 
 nied frorn my quarters. I had not gone far, when my attention was 
 aroused by the noise of a mule-cart, whose jingling bells and clatter- 
 ing timbers announced its approach by the road I was walking. 
 Another turn of the way brought it into view ; 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 the thoughts of home, I turned 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, accordingly, every moment brought fresh arrivals, 
 pouring in from all sides, and eagerly inquiring " if the bag 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 concerns must 
 interest his neighbors, amid a volley of exclamations of surprise, 
 pleasure, or occasionally anger, as the intelligence severally sug- 
 gested, — the disappointed expectants cursing their idle correspond- 
 ents, bemoaning 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 politics, 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 partook 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 
 
NEWS FROM GAL WA Y. 369 
 
 apparently not over-welcome news that Mistress M'Elwain had just 
 been safely delivered of twins, which, with their mother, were doing 
 ^.s 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 Ire- 
 land than run away every half year." 
 
 A little apart some sentimental-looking cockney was devouring a 
 very crossed epistle, which he pressed to his lips whenever any one 
 looked at him ; while a host of others satisfied themselves by read- 
 ing in a kind of buzzing undertone, every now and then interrupting 
 themselves with some broken exclamation as commentary — such as 
 "Of course she 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'll swear," said one ; " but who can 
 make anything of the name ? It's devilish like Otaheite — isn't it ?" 
 
 " I wish my tailor wrote as illegibly," said another ; " I'd keep up 
 a most animated correspondence with him." 
 
 " 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, Charley, 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. Re- 
 gaining my quarters, I 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 de- 
 manded great patience and much time in unravelling. It ran thus : 
 
 The Priory, Lady-day, 1809. 
 
 " My Dear Master Charles : — Your uncle's feet are so big and 
 so uneasy that he can't write, and I am obliged to take up the pen 
 24 
 
370 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 myself, to tell you how we are doing here since you 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 gone to Ned M'Manus, and - 
 may the devil do him good with it ! Peggy Maher left this on Tues- 
 day ; 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 branch, 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 
 inside. 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 burnt 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 gentle- 
 man in the course of the evening, but found out that he was only an 
 attorney from Dublin, so he didn'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'll 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 turnip 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. 
 
 " Nelly 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 Bar- 
 ney's own making this two months, not knowing how to send it ; 
 may be 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 — 
 
 * To excuse Father Rush for any apparent impiety, I must add, that by the "Lord," 
 he means " Lord Clanricarde." 
 
NE WS FROM GAL WA Y. 371 
 
 God's will be done, but we used to think ourselves good enough ! 
 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 you now somewhere in Dublin, I forget the name, and as 
 he's asleep I 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 old friend, 
 
 "Peter Rush. 
 
 " P.S. — It's Smart and Sykes, Fleet street, who has the money. 
 Father O'Shaughnessy, 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 re- 
 markable 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 
 disappointed. What I had long foreseen and anticipated was gradu- 
 ally being accomplished — the wreck of an old and honored house — the 
 fall of a name once the watchword 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 consid- 
 eration 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 Bassett, the attorney at Athlone, should tri- 
 umph 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 cheer- 
 
372 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 ful eye and handsome smile, but ill concealing the slow but certain 
 march of a broken heart. 
 
 My position was doubly painful ; for my advice, had I been cal- 
 culated to give it, would have seemed an act of indelicate interfer- 
 ence 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 respect- 
 ing me. I could therefore only look on in silence, and watch the 
 painful progress of our downfall, without a 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 bedroom, beneath the old roof where his fathers and 
 grandfathers have done so for centuries. Let the faithful followers 
 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 farewell to the spirit of his ances- 
 tors, toll for him, the last of his race. 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 imme- 
 diately 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 amongst them, with many a story of fray and 
 battle-field to enliven their firesides. Pressing him to write fre- 
 quently to me, I closed my hurried letter ; and, having despatched 
 it, sat sorrowfully down to muse over my fortunes. 
 
AN ADVENTURE WITH SIR ARTHUR. 373 
 
 CHAPTEE LXIV. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE WITH SIR ARTHUR. 
 
 THE events of the last few days had impressed me with the 
 weight of years. The awful circumstances of that evening 
 lay heavily at my heart, and though guiltless of Trevyllian'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 dispirited, and the awful shock 
 I had sustained broke my nerve and unmanned me greatly. 
 
 There are times when our sorrows tinge all the coloring 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 war, fell coldly upon my heart ; 
 and I looked upon the chivalry of a soldier's life as the empty pa- 
 geant of a dream. 
 
 In this sad frame of mind I avoided all intercourse with my brother 
 officers ; their gay and joyous spirits only jarred upon my brooding 
 thoughts, and, feigning illness, I kept almost entirely to my quar- 
 ters. 
 
 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 exertion 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 home — the days of peace- 
 ful happiness there — for the life of misery and disappointment I now 
 endured. 
 
 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, forgetting and forgot. 
 
 I record this painful feeling here, while it is still a painful mem- 
 ory, 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 confession we never make later on 
 in life, when real troubles and true afflictions assail us. Whether 
 
374 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 we call in moral philosophy to our aid, or that our senses become 
 less acute and discerning, I'm sure I know not. 
 
 As for me, I confess that 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, perhaps, that the fact was really 
 so, but the spoiled and humored 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 of which 
 I write, been Sir Arthur Wellesley — had I even been Marshal Ber- 
 esford, 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 
 mind for his want of daring and enterprise ! Whole nights did I 
 pass in endeavoring to account for his inactivity and lethargy. Why 
 he did not seriatim fall upon Soult, Ney, and Victor, annihilate the 
 French forces, and sack Madrid, I looked upon as little less than a 
 riddle ; and yet there we waited, drilling, exercising, and foraging, 
 as if we were at Hounslow. Now, most fortunately, here again I 
 was not Sir Arthur. 
 
 Something in this frame of mind, I was one evening taking a 
 solitary ride some miles from the camp. Without noticing the cir- 
 cumstance, I had entered a little mountain tract, when the ground 
 being broken and uneven, I dismounted and proceeded afoot, 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 some- 
 thing 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 
 onward, my head sunk upon my bosom. 
 
 " Holloa, sir !" cried a sharp voice, whose 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. 
 
 " Holloa, 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 calcu- 
 
TALA VERA. 375 
 
 lated to elicit a very polished reply ; but preferring, as was 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 Wel- 
 lesley. 
 
 "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 of one, for 
 above a fortnight. So I stammered out some bungling answer. 
 
 " To your quarters, sir, and report yourself under arrest. What's 
 your name?" 
 
 " 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. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXV. 
 
 TALAVERA. 
 
 HAVING been despatched to the rear with orders for General 
 Craufurd, I did not reach Talavera till the morning of the 
 28th. Two days' hard fighting had left the contending 
 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 were at break- 
 fast, if the few ounces of wheat sparingly dealt out amongst them 
 could be dignified by that name. All was, however, life and anima- 
 tion on every side. The merry laugh, the passing jest, the careless 
 look, bespoke the free and daring 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 in- 
 deed a glorious one; a sky of unclouded blue stretched above a 
 landscape unsurpassed in loveliness. Far to the right rolled on in 
 
376 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 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 richness, and terminated on our ex- 
 treme left in a bold height, protected in front by a ravine, and 
 flanked by a deep and ragged 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 sta- 
 tioned here, next to whom came Cameron's brigade and the Ger- 
 mans. Mackenzie and Hill held 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. 
 
 As I rode rapidly past, saluting some old familiar face at each 
 moment, I could not help feeling struck at the evidence of the des- 
 perate 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 col- 
 umns 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 halfway 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, was drawn up 
 Cotton's brigade, of whom the Fusiliers formed a part. Directly in 
 front of this was Campbell's brigade, to the left of which, upon a 
 gentle slope, the staff were now assembled. Thither, accordingly, I 
 bent my steps. As I came up the little scarp, I found myself among 
 the generals of division, hastily summoned by Sir Arthur to delibe- 
 rate upon a forward movement. The council lasted scarcely a 
 quarter of an hour, and when I presented myself to deliver my re- 
 port, all the dispositions for the battle had been decided upon, and 
 the Commander of the Forces, seated on the grass at his breakfast, 
 
TALA VERA. 377 
 
 looked by far the most unconcerned 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 ?" 
 " They cannot reach Talavera before to-morrow, sir." 
 " Then, before that time 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 was giving an account 
 to my brother officers of my journey, when an aide-de-camp came 
 galloping at full speed down the line, and communicated with the 
 several commanding officers 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 that some- 
 thing of importance was at hand. Upon the hill where the staff 
 were assembled, no unusual bustle appeared, 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, completely 
 overcome by the heat and fatigue of the morning, lay stretched 
 around upon the grass, and everthing 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 regiment, and, mel- 
 lowed by the distance, it seemed, in the calm stillness of the morn- 
 ing air, like something less of earth than heaven. As we listened, 
 the notes swelled upward 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 that the stragglers were rapidly falling 
 back, while high above all other sounds the clanging 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 infantry, and advancing some distance into the 
 plain, seemed to reconnoitre us. A cloud of Polish cavalry, distin- 
 guished by their long lances and floating banners, loitered in their 
 
378 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 infantry 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. 
 
 Meanwhile, Sir Arthur Wel'lesley, 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'll have to open the ball to-day." 
 
 Scarcely were the words spoken, when 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 I How gallantly they come 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 u-pon 
 Campbell's division with a loud cry of defiance. Silently and stead- 
 ily the English infantry awaited the attack, and returning the fire 
 with one withering volley, were ordered to charge. Scarcely were 
 the bayonets lowered, 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 sustained, but the unbroken 
 
TALA VERA. 379 
 
 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 courage, and 
 scarcely had they retreated when they again formed, but just as they 
 prepared to come forward, a tremendous 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 23d dashing impetuously 
 forward, a scene of terrible carnage ensued, men and horses rolled 
 indiscriminately 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 col- 
 umns and reached Bassecour's Spanish division on the far right. 
 
 During this time the hill was again assailed, and even more des- 
 perately 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, but, rallying in 
 an instant, again came forward, supported uf a tremendous fire from 
 their batteries. 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 hurried and excited. 
 
 "The Forty-eighth are coming; here they are — support them, 
 Fourteenth." 
 
 These words were all he spoke ; and the next moment the meas- 
 ured tread of a column was heard behind us. On they came like 
 one man, their compact and dense formation looking like some mas- 
 sive wall ; wheeling by companies, they suffered the Guards and 
 
380 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Germans to retire behind them, and then re-forming into line, they 
 rushed forward with the bayonet. Our artillery opened with a deaf- 
 ening thunder behind them, and then we were ordered to charge. 
 
 We came on at a trot. The Guards, who had now recovered their 
 formation, cheered us as we proceeded. The smoke of the cannon- 
 ade 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 tre- 
 mendous loss, to their position. One glorious cheer from left to 
 right of our line proclaimed the victory, while a deafening discharge 
 of artillery from the French replied to this defiance, and the battle 
 was over. Had the Spanish army been capable of a forward move- 
 ment, 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. Retir- 
 ing during the night, they fell back behind the Alberche, leaving us 
 the victory and the battle-field. 
 
CHARLES O'MALLEY, 
 
 THE IEISH DEAGOON. 
 
 VOLUME II. 
 
CHARLES O'MALLEY, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NIGHT AFTER TALAVERA. 
 
 THE night which followed the battle was a sad one. Through 
 the darkness, and under a fast-falling rain, the hours were 
 spent searching for our wounded comrades amid 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 amid the silence with an accent of heartrending 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 depression 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 celebrated of their Marshals, and under 
 the eyes of the Emperor's own brother ; but still we felt all the haz- 
 ardous danger of our position, and had no confidence whatever in 
 the courage or discipline of our allies ; and we saw that in the very 
 meUe of the battle the efforts 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 con- 
 jecture was hazarded as to their meaning, for no object was well visible 
 for more than a few hundred yards off; 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 regi- 
 ment was seen advancing at a quick step. 
 
 (383) 
 
384 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 As they came nearer, the well-known march of the gallant Forty- 
 third was recognized by some of our people, and immediately the 
 rumor flew like lightning, — " It is Craufurd's brigade !" and so it 
 was ; the noble fellow had marched his division the unparalleled 
 distance of sixty English miles in twenty-seven hours. Over a 
 burning soil, exposed to a raging sun, without rations, almost with- 
 out 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 reputation, were in every mouth ; and 
 I scarcely think that any corps who stood the brunt of the mighty 
 battle were the subject of more encomiums 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 amid 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 momen- 
 tarily 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 proceed 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 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, inquiring the road to 
 the hospital ; the accents of agony mingled with the drunken chorus, 
 and the sharp crack of 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 glit- 
 tering epaulettes, wended his way on foot amid the din and bustle, 
 unnoticed and uncared for ; while the little drummer amused an ad- 
 miring audience of simple country-folk by some wondrous tale of 
 the great victory. 
 
NIGHT AFTER TALA VERA. 885 
 
 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 witness some proceeding with 
 more than ordinary interest. Exclamations in Portuguese, expres- 
 sive 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 waistcoat, and with his shirt sleeves rolled 
 up to his shoulders, busily employed in operating upon a wounded 
 soldier. Amputation 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 a hospital for his patients. 
 While he continued to perform his functions 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, ab- 
 stractedly, upon things in general. These little specimens of ora- 
 tory, 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. 
 
 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'll be this morning after 
 that. I saw that same shell coming, and I called out to Maurice 
 Blake, ' By your leave, Maurice, let that fellow pass, he's in a hurry !' 
 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 Sackville 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 
 25 
 
386 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 to carve out a patient for himself. Not exactly relishing the invi- 
 tation 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 beyond 
 belief — frightful and ghastly wounds from shells and cannon-shot 
 were seen on all sides, every imaginable species of suffering that man 
 is capable of was presented to view, while amid the dead and dying, 
 operations the most painful 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 whom were officers ; but, fortunately, we lost not 
 a man of our gallant fellows, and Talavera brought us no mourn- 
 ing for a comrade, to damp the exultation we felt in our victory, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 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 flatter- 
 ing. 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 confi- 
 dence in the resources of our great leader, than that any amongst us 
 could see his way through the dense cloud of difficulty and danger 
 that seemed to envelope us on every side. 
 
 To add to the pressing emergencies 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 
 
THE OUTPOST. 387 
 
 party to push forward in the direction of the Alberche, upon the 
 left bank of which it was reported that the French were again con- 
 centrating their forces, and, if possible, to obtain information as to 
 their future movements. Meanwhile, the army was about to fall 
 back upon Oropesa, there to await Soult's advance, and, if neces- 
 sary, to give him battle — Cuesta engaging with his Spaniards to 
 secure Talavera, with its stores and hospitals, against any present 
 movement from Victor. 
 
 After a hearty breakfast, and a kind "Good-bye!" from my 
 brother officers, I set out. My road along the Tagus, 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 likelihood be obtained. More than once during the day our 
 road was crossed by parties similar to our own, sent forward to re- 
 connoitre ; and towards evening a party of the Twenty-third 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 possessing, 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 ourselves, stumbling and overreaching at 
 every step. 
 
 Cursing my ill-luck for such a misadventnre, and once more pic- 
 turing to my mind the bright blazing hearth and smoking supper I 
 had hoped to partake of, I concluded to call 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 
 
388 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 our tired horses, and, shaking out their forage, heaped up in the 
 midst a blazing fire of the fir-tree. Our humble supper was pro- 
 duced, and even with the still lingering reverie of the Major and his 
 happier destiny, I began to feel comfortable. 
 
 My troopers, who probably had not been flattering their imagina- 
 tions with such gourmand 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, detail- 
 ing, 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 Forty-eighth was Irish, or we wouldn't be 
 sitting there now I" 
 
 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 pro- 
 duced 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 off, 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 devilment, 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 single ditty by 
 which Mike accompanied himself as he kept burnishing the buttons 
 of my jacket before the fire, now and then interrupting 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'll 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's yourself that stands to me. 
 
 '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 drame, when my Jaytures is scorchin', 
 That when I'm too ould for more fun, 
 
 Why, I'll marry a wife with a fortune. 
 
THE OUTPOST. 389 
 
 1 And in winter, with bacon and eggs, 
 
 And a place at the turf-fire basking, 
 Sip my punch as I roasted my legs, 
 
 Oh ! the devil a more I'd be asking ! 
 For I haven't ajanius for work, — 
 
 It was never a 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 him- 
 self 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 slumber, and mid 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 overcome 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 in height ; two heads — which surmounted this colossal 
 personage — moved alternately from side to side, while several arms 
 waved loosely to and fro in the most strange and uncouth manner. 
 My 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 remained 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 concerned, in- 
 duced me to challenge it in French, so without advancing a step, I 
 halloed out, " Qui va Id f" 
 
 My voice aroused a sleeping soldier, who, springing up beside me, 
 had his carbine at the cock; while, equally thunderstruck with 
 myself, he gazed at the monster. 
 
 "Qui va Id f" shouted I again, and no answer was returned, when 
 suddenly the huge object wheeled rapidly around, and without wait- 
 ing for any further parley, made for the thicket. 
 
390 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 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 as dark as midnight ; but as we pro- 
 ceeded farther, we came out upon a little open space which com- 
 manded the plain beneath for a great extent. 
 
 "There it goes!" said one of the men, pointing to a narrow, 
 beaten path, in which the tall figure moved at a slow and stately 
 pace, while still the same wild gestures of heads and limbs con- 
 tinued. 
 
 " 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 ob- 
 ject headlong into the road. 
 
 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 ! Wasn'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 divi- 
 sion !" 
 
 I need not say with what a*burst of laughter I received this very 
 original declaration. 
 
 " I ought to know that laugh," cried a voice I at once knew to be 
 that of my friend O'Shaughnessy. "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 re- 
 spected progenitor. I'm Dr. Quill, of the 48th, more commonly 
 called Maurice Quill. Tear and ages ! how sore my back is ! It was 
 
THE OUTPOST. 391 
 
 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 consideration 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 was in a very befitting con- 
 dition 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 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 en- 
 gaged 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 before 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 ; but still " 
 
 " What are the fluids, Charley?" cried the Major ; "the cruel per- 
 formance I have been enacting on that cursed beast has left me in a 
 fever." 
 
 " This was a pigeon-pie formerly," said Dr. Quill, investigating 
 the ruined walls of a pastry ; " and — but come, here's a duck ; and 
 if my nose deceive me not, a very tolerable 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 beau- 
 tiful absorbent system ! That's the gift! Just look at him, blowing 
 up the fire — isn't he a picture ? Well, O'Mealey, I was fretting that 
 
392 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 we hadn't you up at Torrijos ; we were enjoying life very respect- 
 ably; 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 meantime I'll give you a chant : 
 
 ' Come, ye jovial souls, don't o'er 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. 
 
 Isn't that so, Mrs. Mary Callaghan? 
 
 Isn'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 con- 
 fusion was but momentary ; the gallant 48th was up in an instant." 
 
 " Faith ! I can answer for their alacrity," said the Doctor; "I was 
 making my way to the rear with all convenient despatch, when an 
 aide-de-camp called out, — 
 
 "'Cavalry coming ! take care, 48th/ 
 
 " ' 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 cuirassiers forming on the 
 rising ground to our left. 
 
 " ' Here they come !' said Sir Arthur, as the French came powder- 
 ing along, making the very earth tremble beneath them. 
 
 "My first thought was, 'The devils are mad! and they'll 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, turning 
 as coolly round to mo as if he were asking for more gravy. 
 
 '"Mighty well done!' said I in reply; and resolving not to be 
 ou lone in coolness, I pulled out my snuff-box and offered him a 
 
THE OUTPOST. 393 
 
 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 promote me?' 
 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 puz- 
 zling 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 33d, where I exchanged, to be near 
 my brother, sir, in the 34th.' 
 
 " 'A doctor, — a surgeon ! That fellow a surgeon ! D — 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'll find 
 their mistake." 
 
 "Ah, Maurice, Maurice !" said Shaugh, with a sigh, " you'll never 
 improve — you'll never improve !" 
 
 " Why the devil would I ?" said he ; " ain't I at the top of my 
 profession — full surgeon — with nothing to expect — nothing to hope 
 for? Oh, if I only remained in the light company, what wouldn't 
 I be now?" 
 
 " Then you were not always a doctor ?" said I. 
 
 " Upon my conscience I wasn't," said he. "When Shaugh knew 
 me first, I was the Adonis of the Roscommon militia, with more 
 heiresses in my list than any man in the regiment; but Shaugh and 
 myself were always unlucky." 
 
 " Poor Mrs. Rogers !" said the Major, pathetically, drinking off his 
 glass and heaving a profound sigh. 
 
 "Ah, the darling !" said the Doctor ; " if it wasn'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. 
 
394 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " I should like much to hear that story," said I, pushing the jug 
 briskly round. 
 
 " He'll tell it you," said O'Shaughnessy, lighting his cigar, and 
 leaning pensively back against a tree, — " he'll tell it you." 
 
 " I will with pleasure," said Maurice. " Let Mr. Free meantime 
 amuse himself with the punch-bowl, and I'll relate it." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE DOCTOR'S TALE.* 
 
 IT is now some fifteen years since — if it wasn't for O'Shaugh- 
 nessy's wrinkles, I could not believe it five — we were quartered 
 in Loughrea. There were besides our regiment the 50th, the 
 73d, and a troop or two of horse artillery ; the whole town was liter- 
 ally a barrack, and, as you may suppose, the pleasantest place imag- 
 inable. All the young ladies, and indeed all those that had got 
 their brevet some years before, came flocking into the town, not 
 knowing but the devil might persuade a raw ensign or so to marry 
 some of them. 
 
 " Such dinner parties — such routs and balls — never were heard of 
 west of Athlone. The gayeties were incessant ; and if good feeding, 
 plenty of claret, short whist, country-dances, and kissing, could 
 have done the thing, there wouldn't have been a bachelor with a red 
 coat for six miles around. 
 
 " You know the west, O'Malley ; so I needn't tell you what the 
 Galway girls are like — fine, hearty, free-and-easy, talking, laughing 
 devils ; but as deep and as 'cute as a Master in Chancery— ready for 
 any fun or merriment ; but always keeping a sly look-out for a pro- 
 posal or a tender acknowledgment, which — what between the heat 
 of a ball-room, whisky-negus, white satin shoes, and a quarrel with 
 your guardian — it's ten to one you fall into before you're a week in 
 the same town with them. 
 
 "As for the men, I don't admire them so much ; pleasant and 
 cheerful enough, when they're handicapping the coat off your back, 
 
 * T cannot permit the reader to fall into the same blunder with regard to the worthy 
 "Maurice" as my friend Charles O'Malley has done. It is only fair to state that the 
 Doctor in the following tale was hoaxing the " Dragoon." A braver and abetter fellow 
 than Quill never existed, equally beloved by his brother otlieers as delighted in for his 
 convivial talents. His favorite amusement was to invent some story or adventure, in 
 which, mixing up his own name with that of some friend or companion, the veracity 
 of the whole was never questioned. Of this nature was the pedigree he devised in the 
 last chapter to impose upon O'Malley, who believed implicitly all he told him. 
 
THE DOCTOR'S TALE. 395 
 
 and your new tilbury for a spavined pony and a cotton umbrella; 
 but regular devils if you come to cross them the least in life ; nothing 
 but ten paces — three shots a piece — to begin and end with some- 
 thing like Sir Roger de Coverley, when every one has a pull at his 
 neighbor. I'm not saying they're not agreeable, well-informed, and 
 mild in their habits ; but they lean over-much to corduroys and 
 coroners' inquests for one's taste farther south. However, they're a 
 fine people, take them all in all ; and, if they were not interfered 
 with, and their national customs invaded with road making, petty 
 sessions, grand jury laws, and a stray commission now and then, 
 they are undoubtedly capable of great things, and would astonish 
 the world. 
 
 " But, as I was saying, we were ordered to Loughrea, after being 
 fifteen months in detachments about Birr, Tullamore, Kilbeggan, 
 and all that country ; the change was indeed a delightful one, and 
 we soon found ourselves the centre of the most marked and deter- 
 mined civilities. I told you they were wise people in the west ; this 
 was their calculation : the line — ours was the Roscommon militia — 
 are here to-day, there to-morrow ; they may be flirting in Tralee 
 this week, and fighting on the Tagus the next ; not that there was 
 any fighting there in those times, but then there was always Nova 
 Scotia and St. John's, and a hundred other places that a Galway 
 young lady knew nothing about, except that people never came 
 back from them. Now, what good, what use was there in falling in 
 love with them ? mere transitory and passing pleasure that was. 
 But as for us : there we were ; if not in Kilkenny, we were in Cork. 
 Safe cut and come again ; no getting away under pretence of foreign 
 service ; no excuse for not marrying by any cruel pictures of the 
 colonies, where they make spatchcocks of the officers' wives, and 
 scrape their infant families to death with a small tooth-comb. In a 
 word, my dear O'Mealey, we were at a high premium ; and even 
 O'Shaughnessy, with his red head and the legs you see, had his ad- 
 mirers — there now, don't be angry, Dan — the men, at least, were 
 mighty partial to you. 
 
 " Loughrea, if it was a pleasant, was a very expensive place. 
 White gloves and car-hire — there wasn't a chaise in the town — 
 short whist, too (God forgive me if I wrong them, but I wonder 
 were they honest?), cost money; and as our popularity rose, our 
 purses fell, till at length, when the one was at the flood, the other 
 was something very like low water. 
 
 " Now, the Roscommon was a beautiful corps — no petty jealousies, 
 no little squabbling among the officers, no small spleen between the 
 Major's wife and the Paymaster's sister, — all was amiable, kind, 
 brotherly, and affectionate. To proceed, I need only mention one 
 
396 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 fine trait of them — no man ever refused to endorse a brother offi- 
 cer's bill. To think of asking the amount, or even the date, would 
 be taken personally ; and thus we went on mutually aiding and 
 assisting each other — the Colonel drawing on me, I on the Major, 
 the senior Captain on the Surgeon, and so on, — a regular cross-fire 
 of ' promises to pay,' all stamped and regular. 
 
 "Not but the system had its inconveniences, for sometimes an 
 obstinate tailor or bootmaker would make a row for his money, and 
 then we'd be obliged to get up a little quarrel between the drawer 
 and the acceptor of the bill ; they couldn't speak for some days, 
 and a mutual friend to both would tell the creditor that the slight- 
 est imprudence on his part would lead to bloodshed ; - and the Lord 
 help him ! if there was a duel, he'd prove the whole cause of it.' 
 This and twenty other plans were employed, and finally the matter 
 would be left to arbitration among our brother officers, and I need 
 not say they behaved like trumps. But notwithstanding all this, we 
 were frequently hard pressed for cash ; as the Colonel said, ' It's a 
 mighty expensive corps.' Our dress was costly — not that it had 
 much lace and gold on it, but that, what between falling on the road 
 at night, shindies at mess, and other devilment, a coat lasted no 
 time. Wine, too, was heavy on us, for though we often changed 
 our wine merchant, and rarely paid him, there was an awful con- 
 sumption at the mess. 
 
 " Now, what I have mentioned may prepare you for the fact that, 
 before we were eight weeks in garrison, Shaugh and myself, upon 
 an accurate calculation of our joint finances, discovered that, except 
 some vague promises of discounting here and there through the 
 town, and seven and fourpence in specie, we were innocent of any 
 pecuniary treasures. This was embarrassing. We had both em- 
 barked in several small schemes of pleasurable amusement ; had a 
 couple of hunters each, a tandem, and a running account — I think 
 it galloped — at every shop in the town. 
 
 " Let me pause for a moment here, O'Mealey, while I moralize a 
 little in a strain which I hope may benefit you. Have you ever 
 considered — of course you have not: you're too young and unre- 
 flecting — how beautifully every climate and every soil possesses some 
 one antidote or another to its own noxious influences? The tropics 
 have their succulent and juicy fruits, cooling and refreshing ; the 
 northern latitudes have their beasts with fur and warm skin to keep 
 out the frost-bites. And so it is in Ireland ; nowhere on the face of 
 the habitable globe does a man contract such habits of small debt, 
 and nowhere, I'll be sworn, 'can he so easily get out of any scrape 
 concerning them. They have their tigers in the east, their ante- 
 lopes in the south, their white bears in Norway, their buffaloes in 
 
THE DOCTOR'S TALE. 397 
 
 America; but we have an animal in Ireland that beats them all 
 hollow — a country attorney! 
 
 " Now, let me introduce you to Mr. Matthew Donevan. Mat, as 
 he was familiarly called by his numerous acquaintances, was a short, 
 florid, rosy little gentleman, of some four or five-and-forty, with a 
 well-curled wig of the fairest imaginable auburn, the gentle wave 
 of the front locks, which played in infantine loveliness upon his 
 little bullet forehead, contrasting strongly enough with a cunning 
 leer of his eye, and a certain nisi prius laugh that, however it might 
 please a client, rarely brought pleasurable feelings to his opponent 
 in a cause. 
 
 " Mat was a character in his way. Deep, double, and tricky in 
 everything that concerned his profession, he affected the gay fellow ; 
 liked a jolly dinner at Brown's Hotel — would go twenty miles to see 
 a steeple-chase and a coursing match — bet with any one, when the 
 odds were strong in his favor, with an easy indifference about money 
 that made him seem, when winning, rather the victim of good luck 
 than anything else. As he kept a rather pleasant bachelor's house, 
 and liked the military much, we soon became acquainted. Upon 
 him, therefore, for reasons I can't explain, both our hopes reposed, 
 and Shaugh and myself agreed that if Mat could not assist us in our 
 distresses, the case was a bad one. 
 
 " A pretty little epistle was accordingly concocted, inviting the 
 worthy attorney to a small dinner at five o'clock the next day, inti- 
 mating that we were to be perfectly alone, and had a little business 
 to discuss. True to the hour, Mat was there ; and, as if instantly 
 guessing that ours was no regular party of pleasure, his look, dress, 
 and manner were all in keeping with the occasion — quiet, subdued, 
 and searching. 
 
 " When the claret had been superseded by the whisky, and the 
 confidential hours were approaching, by an adroit allusion to some 
 heavy wager then pending, we brought our finances upon the tapis. 
 The thing was done beautifully — an easy adagio movement — no vio- 
 lent transition ; but hang me if old Mat didn't catch the matter at 
 once. 
 
 " ' Oh ! it's there ye are, Captain,' said he, with his peculiar grin. 
 ' Two-and-sixpence in the pound, and no assets.' 
 
 " 'The last is nearer the mark, my old boy,' said Shaugh, blurt- 
 ing out the whole truth at once. The wily attorney finished his 
 tumbler slowly, as if giving himself time for reflection, and then, 
 smacking his lips in a preparatory manner, took a quick survey 
 of the room with his piercing green eye. 
 
 " ' A very sweet mare of yours that little mouse-colored one is, 
 with the dip in the back ; and she has a trifling curb — maybe it's a 
 
398 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 spavin, indeed — in the near hind leg. You gave five-and-twenty for 
 her, now, I'll be bound?' 
 
 " 'Sixty guineas, as sure as my name's Dan/ said Shaugh, not at 
 all pleased at the value put upon his hackney ; ' and as to the spa- 
 vin and curb, I'll wager double the sum she has neither the slight- 
 est trace of one nor the other.' 
 
 " ' I'll not take the bet,' said Mat, dryly ; ' money's scarce in these 
 parts.' 
 
 " This hit silenced us both, and our friend continued : — 
 
 Then there's the bay horse— a great strapping, leggy beast he 
 is for a tilbury ; and the hunters— worth nothing here ; they don't 
 know this country. Them's neat pistols ; and the tilbury is not 
 bad ' 
 
 " ' Confound you !' said I, losing all patience ; ' we didn't ask you 
 here to praise our movables ; we want to raise the wind without 
 that/ 
 
 " ' I see — I perceive,' said Mat, taking a pinch of snuff very lei- 
 surely as he spoke ; * I see. Well, that is difficult— very difficult, 
 just now. I've mortgaged every acre of ground in the two counties 
 near us, and a sixpence more is not to be had that way. Are you 
 lucky at the races ?' 
 
 " ' Never win a sixpence/ 
 
 " ' What can you do at whist V 
 
 " ' Why, I revoke, and get cursed by my partner — the devil a bit 
 more.' 
 
 " ' That's mighty bad, for otherwise we might arrange something 
 for you. Well, I only see one thing for it — you must marry. A wife 
 with some money will get you out of your present difficulties, and 
 we'll manage that easily enough.' 
 
 "'Come, Dan/ said I — for Shaugh was dropping asleep — 'cheer 
 up, old fellow. Donevan has found the way to pull us through our 
 misfortunes — a girl with forty thousand pounds, the best cock-shoot- 
 ing in Ireland ; an old family, a capital cellar — all awaits ye. Rouse 
 up, there !' 
 
 " ' I'm convanient/ said Shaugh, with a look intended to be know- 
 ing, but really very tipsy. 
 
 " 'I didn't say much for her personal attractions, Captain/ said 
 Mat ; ' nor, indeed, did t specify the exact sum ; but Mrs. Rogers 
 Dooley, of Clonakilty, might be a princess ' 
 
 "'And so she shall be, Mat ; the O'Shaughnessys were kings of 
 Ennis in the time of Nero ; and I'm only waiting for a trifle of 
 money to revive the title. What's her name ?' 
 
 " ' Mrs. Rogers Dooley.' 
 
 " ' Here's her health, and long life to her, — 
 
THE DOCTOR'S TALE. 399 
 
 ' And may the devil cut the toes 
 Of all her foes, 
 That we may know them by their limping.' " 
 
 " This benevolent wish uttered, Dan fell flat upon the hearth-rug, 
 and was soon sound asleep. I must hasten on, so need only say that 
 before we parted that night Mat and myself had finished the half- 
 gallon bottle of Loughrea whisky, and concluded a treaty for the hand 
 and fortune of Mrs. Rogers Dooley, he being guaranteed a very hand- 
 some percentage on the property, and the lady being reserved for 
 choice between Dan and myself, which, however, I was determined 
 should fall upon my more fortunate friend. 
 
 " The first object which presented itself to my aching senses the 
 following morning was a very spacious card of invitation from Mr. 
 Jonas Malone, requesting me to favor him with the seductions of my 
 society the next evening to a ball ; at the bottom of which, in Mr. 
 Donevan's hand, I read, — 
 
 "' Don't fail ; you know who is to be there. I've not been idle 
 since I saw you. Would the Captain take twenty-five for the 
 mare ?' 
 
 " ' So far so good/ thought I, as entering O'Shaughnessy's quar- 
 ters, I discovered him endeavoring to spell out his card, which, 
 however, had no postscript. We soon agreed that Mat should have 
 his price ; so, sending a polite answer to the invitation, we des- 
 patched a still more civil note to the attorney, and begged of him, 
 as a weak mark of esteem, to accept the mouse-colored mare as a 
 present. 
 
 Here O'Shaughnessy sighed deeply, and even seemed affected by 
 the souvenir. 
 
 " Come, Dan, we did it all for the best. Oh ! O'Mealey, he was 
 a cunning fellow ; but no matter. We went to the ball, and, to be 
 sure, it was a great sight. Two hundred and fifty souls, where there 
 was not good room for the odd fifty ; such laughing, such squeezing, 
 such pressing of hands and waists in the staircase ! and then such a 
 row and riot at the top, — four fiddles, a key bugle, and a bagpipe, 
 playing ' Haste to the Wedding/ amid the crash of refreshment 
 trays, the tramp of feet, and the sounds of merriment on all sides ! 
 
 " It's only in Ireland, after all, people have fun ; old and young, 
 merry and morose, the gay and cross-grained, are crammed into a 
 lively country dance ; and, ill-matched, ill-suited, go jigging away 
 together to the blast of a bad band, till their heads, half turned by 
 the noise, the heat, the novelty, and the hubbub, they all get as 
 tipsy as if they were really deep in liquor. 
 
 "Then there is that particularly free-and-easy tone in every one 
 about ; there go a couple capering daintily out of the ball-room to 
 
400 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 take a little fresh air on the stairs, where every step has its own sep- 
 arate flirtation party; there, a riotous old gentleman, with a board- 
 ing-school girl for his partner, has plunged smack into a party at 
 loo, upsetting cards and counters, and drawing down curses innu- 
 merable. Here are a merry knot round the refreshments, and well 
 they may be ; for the negus is strong punch, and the biscuit tipsy 
 cake, — and all this with a running fire of good stories, jokes, and 
 witticisms on all sides, in the laughter for which even 'the droll- 
 looking servants join as heartily as the rest. 
 
 " We were not long in finding out Mrs. Eogers, who sat in the 
 middle of a very high sofa, with her feet just touching the floor. 
 She was short, fat, wore her hair in a crop, had a species of shining 
 yellow skin, and a turned-up nose, all of which w^re by no means 
 prepossessing. Shaugh and myself were too hard-up to be partic- 
 ular, and so we invited her to dance alternately for two consecutive 
 hours, plying her assiduously with negus during the lulls in the 
 music. 
 
 " Supper was at last announced, and enabled us to recruit for new 
 efforts ; and so, after an awful consumption of fowl, pigeon-pie, ham, 
 and brandy cherries, Mrs. Rogers brightened up considerably, and 
 professed her willingness to join the dancers. As for us, partly from 
 exhaustion, partly to stimulate our energies, and in some degree to 
 drown reflection, we drank deep, and when we reached the drawing- 
 room, not only the agreeable guests themselves, but even the furni- 
 ture, the venerable chairs and the stiff old sofa, seemed performing 
 * Sir Roger de Coverley.' How we conducted ourselves till five in the 
 morning, let our cramps confess, for we were both bedridden for ten 
 days after. However, at last, Mrs. Rogers gave in; and, reclining 
 gracefully upon a window-seat, pronounced it a most elegant party, 
 and asked me to look for her shawl. While I perambulated the 
 staircase with her bonnet on my head, and more wearing-apparel 
 than would stock a magazine, Shaugh was roaring himself hoarse in 
 the street, calling for Mrs. Rogers's coach. 
 
 " ' Sure, Captain,' said the lady, with a tender leer, ' it's only a 
 chair.' 
 
 "'And here it is,' said I, surveying a very portly-looking old 
 sedan, newly painted and varnished, that blocked up half the hall. 
 
 " ' You'll catch cold, my angel,' said Shaugh, in a whisper, for he 
 was coming it very strong by this ; ' get into the chair. Maurice, 
 can't you find those fellows?' said he to me; for the chairmen had 
 gone down stairs, and were making very merry among the servants. 
 
 " ' She's fast now,' said I, shutting the door to. ' Let us do the 
 gallant thing, and carry her home ourselves.' Shaugh thought this 
 a great notion ; and in a minute we mounted the poles and sallied 
 
THE DOCTOR'S TALE. 401 
 
 forth, amid a great chorus of laughing from all the footmen, maids, 
 and teaboys that filled the passage. 
 
 " 'The big house, with the bow-window and the pillars, Captain,' 
 said a fellow, as we issued upon our journey. 
 
 " ' I know it,' said I. ' Turn to your left after you pass the square.' 
 
 " ' Isn't she heavy ?' said Shaugh, as he meandered across the 
 narrow streets with a sidelong motion, that must have suggested to 
 our fair inside passenger some notions of a sea voyage. In truth, I 
 must confess our progress was rather a devious one ; now zig-zag- 
 ging from side to side, now getting into a sharp trot, and then sud- 
 denly pulling up at a dead stop, or running the machine chuck 
 against a wall, to enable us to stand still and gain breath. 
 
 "'Which way now.?' cried he, as we swung round the angle of 
 a street, and entered the large market-place ; ' I'm getting terribly 
 tired.' 
 
 " ' Never give in, Dan ; think of Clonakilty, and the old lady 
 herself;' and here I gave the chair a hoist that evidently aston- 
 ished our fair friend, for a very imploring cry issued forth immedi- 
 ately after. 
 
 " ' To the right, quick step, forward — charge !' cried I ; and we set 
 off at a brisk trot down a steep narrow lane. 
 
 " ' Here it is now : the light in the window ; cheer up !' 
 
 "As I said this, we came short up to a fine portly-looking door- 
 way, with great stone pillars and cornice. 
 
 " ' Make yourself at home, Maurice,' said he ; ' bring her in ;' and 
 so saying we pushed forward — for the door was open — and passed 
 boldly into a great flagged hall, silent and cold, and dark as the 
 night itself. 
 
 " 'Are you sure we're right ?' said he. 
 
 " 'All right,' said I ; 'go ahead.' 
 
 "And so we did, till We came in sight of a small candle that 
 burned dimly at a distance from us. 
 
 " ' Make for the light/ said I ; but just as I said so, Shaugh 
 slipped and fell flat on the flagway. The noise of his fall sent up a 
 hundred echoes in the silent building, and terrified us both dread- 
 fully ; after a minute's pause, by one consent we turned and made 
 for the door, falling almost at every step ; and frightened out of our 
 senses, we came tumbling together into the porch, and out in the 
 street, and never drew breath till we reached the barracks. Mean- 
 while, let me return to Mrs. Rogers." The dear old lady, who had 
 passed an awful time since she left the ball, had just rallied out of a 
 fainting fit when we took to our heels ; so, after screaming and cry- 
 ing her best, she at last managed to open the top of the chair, and 
 by dint of great exertions succeeded in forcing the door, and at 
 26 
 
402 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 length freed herself from bondage. She was leisurely groping her 
 way round it in the dark, when her lamentations being heard without, 
 woke up the old sexton of the chapel — for it was there we placed 
 her — who, entering cautiously with a light, no sooner caught a 
 glimpse of the great black sedan and the figure beside it, than he 
 also took to his heels, and ran like a madman to the priest's bouse. 
 
 " 'Come, your reverence, come, for the love^of marcy 1 Sure didn't 
 I see him myself! wirra, wirra !' 
 
 " ' What is it, ye old fool ?' said M'Kenny. 
 
 " ' It's Father Con Doran, your reverence, that was buried last 
 week, and there he is up now, coffin and all ! saying a midnight mass 
 as lively as ever.' 
 
 " Poor Mrs. Rogers, God help her ! It was a trying sight for her, 
 when the priest and the two coadjutors, and three little boys and the 
 sexton, all came in to lay her spirit ; and the shock she received 
 that night, they say, she never got over. 
 
 "Need I say, my dear O'Mealey, that our acquaintance with Mrs. 
 Rogers was closed ? The $ear woman had a hard struggle for it 
 afterwards. Her character was assailed by all the elderly ladies in 
 Loughrea for going off in our company, and her blue satin, piped 
 with scarlet, utterly ruined by a deluge of holy water bestowed on 
 her by the pious sexton. It was in vain that she originated twenty 
 different reports to mystify the world ; and even ten pounds spent in 
 masses for the eternal repose of Father Con Doran only increased 
 the laughter this unfortunate affair gave rise to. As for us, we ex- 
 changed into the. Line, and foreign service took us out of the road of 
 duns, debts, and devilment, and we soon reformed, and eschewed 
 such low company." 
 
 ******** 
 
 The day was breaking ere we separated, and amid the rich and 
 fragrant vapors that exhaled from the earth, the faint traces of sun- 
 light dimly stealing, told of the morning. My two friends set out 
 for Torrijos, and I pushed forward in the direction of the Alberche. 
 
 It was a strange thing, that although but two days before the 
 roads we were then travelling had been the line of retreat of the 
 whole French army, not a vestige of their equipment, nor a trace of 
 their materiel, had been left behind. In vain we searched each 
 thicket by the wayside for some straggling soldier, some wounded 
 or wearied man — nothing of the kind was to be seen. Except the 
 deeply-rutted road, torn by the heavy wheels of the artillery, and 
 the white ashes of a wood fire, nothing marked their progress. 
 
 Our journey was a lonely one. Not a man was to be met with. 
 The houses stood untenanted ; the doors lay open ; no smoke 
 wreathed from their deserted hearths ; the peasantry had taken to 
 
THE DOCTOR'S TALE. 403 
 
 the mountains, and although the plains were yellow with the ripe 
 harvest, and the peaches hung temptingly upon the trees, all was de- 
 serted and forsaken. I had often seen the blackened walls and 
 broken rafters, the traces of the wild revenge and reckless pillage of 
 a retiring army — the ruined castle and the desecrated altar are sad 
 things to look upon ; but, somehow, a far heavier depression sunk 
 into my heart as my eye ranged over the wide valleys and broad 
 hills, all redolent of comfort, of beauty, and of happiness, and yet 
 not one man to say, " This is my home ; these are my household 
 gods !" The birds carolled gayly in each leafy thicket, the bright 
 stream sung merrily as it rippled through the rocks, the tall corn, 
 gently stirred by the breeze, seemed to swell the concert of sweet 
 sounds ; but no human voice awoke the echoes there. It was as if 
 the earth was speaking in thankfulness to its Maker; while man, 
 ungrateful and unworthy man, pursuing his ruthless path of devas- 
 tation and destruction, had left no being to say, " I thank Thee for 
 all these." 
 
 The day was closing as we drew near the Alberche, and came in 
 sight of the watch-fires of the enemy. Far as the eye could reach, 
 their column extended ; but in the dim twilight nothing could be 
 seen with accuracy. Yet from the position their artillery occupied, 
 and the unceasing din of baggage wagons and heavy carriages 
 towards the rear, I came to the conclusion that a still further re- 
 treat was meditated. A picket of light cavalry was posted upon the 
 river's bank, and seemed to watch with vigilance the approaches to 
 the stream. 
 
 Our bivouac was a dense copse of pine trees, exactly opposite to 
 the French advanced posts, and there we passed the night — fortun- 
 ately, a calm and starlight one — for we dared not light fires, fearful 
 of attracting attention. 
 
 During the long hours, I lay patiently watching the movements 
 of the enemy till the dark shadows hid all from my sight ; even then, 
 as my ears caught the challenge of a sentry, or the footsteps of some 
 officer on his round, my thoughts were riveted upon them, and a hun- 
 dred fancies as to the future were based upon no stronger foundation 
 than the click of a firelock or the low-muttered song of a patrol. 
 
 Towards morning I slept, and when day broke, my first glance 
 was towards the river-side ; but the French were gone — noiselessly 
 — rapidly. Like one man, that vast army had departed ; and a dense 
 column of dust towards the horizon alone marked the long line of 
 march where the martial legions were retreating. 
 
 My mission was thus ended. Hastily partaking of the humble 
 breakfast my friend Mike provided for me, I once more set out, and 
 took the road towards head-quarters. 
 
404 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE SKIRMISH. 
 
 FOE several months after the battle of Talavera, my life pre- 
 sented nothing which I feel worth recording. Our good for- 
 tune seemed to have deserted us when our hopes were high- 
 est ; for from the day of that splendid victory we began our retro- 
 grade movement upon Portugal. Pressed hard by overwhelming 
 masses of the enemy, we saw the fortresses of Ciudad Rodrigo and 
 Almeida fall successively into their hands. The Spaniards were de- 
 feated wherever they ventured upon a battle ; and our own troops, 
 thinned by sickness and desertion, presented but a shadow of that 
 brilliant army which only a few months previous had followed the 
 retiring French beyond the frontiers of Portugal. 
 
 However willing I now am — and who is not? — to recognize the 
 genius and foresight of that great man who then held the destinies 
 of the Peninsula within his hands, I confess, at the time I speak of, 
 I could ill comprehend, and still less feel contented with, the suc- 
 cessive retreats our forces made ; and while the words Torres Vedras 
 brought nothing to my mind but the last resting-place before em- 
 barkation, the sad fortunes of Corunna were now before me, and it 
 was with a gloomy and desponding spirit I followed the routine of 
 my daily duty. 
 
 During these weary months, if my life was devoid of stirring in- 
 terest or adventure, it was not profitless. Constantly employed at 
 the outposts, I became thoroughly inured to all the roughing of a 
 soldier's life, and learned in the best of schools that tacit obedience 
 which alone can form the subordinate, or ultimately fit its possessor 
 for command himself. 
 
 Humble and unobtrusive as such a career must ever be, it was not 
 without its occasional rewards. From General Craufurd I more 
 than once obtained most kind mention in his despatches, and felt 
 that I was not unknown or unnoticed by Sir Arthur Wellesley him- 
 self. At that time these testimonies, slight and passing as they 
 were, contributed to the pride and glory of my existence ; and even 
 now — shall I confess it ? — when some gray hairs are mingling with 
 the brown, and when my old dragoon swagger is taming down into 
 a kind of half-pay shamble, I feel my heart warm at the recollection 
 of them. 
 
 Be it so. I care not who smiles at the avowal. I know of little 
 better worth remembering as we grow old than what pleased us while 
 we were young. With the memory of the kind words once spoken, 
 come back the still kinder looks of those who spoke them, and, 
 
THE SKIRMISH. 405 
 
 better than all, that early feeling of budding manhood when there 
 was neither fear nor distrust. Alas ! these are the things, and not 
 weak eyes and tottering limbs, which form the burden of old age. 
 Oh ! if we could only go on believing, go on trusting, go on hoping 
 to the last, who would shed tears for the bygone feats of his youth- 
 ful days, when the spirit that evoked them lived young and vivid as 
 before ? 
 
 But to my story. While Ciudad Kodrigo still held out against 
 the besieging French, its battered walls and breached ramparts sadly 
 foretelling the fate inevitably impending, we were ordered, together 
 with the 16th Light Dragoons, to proceed to Gallegos, to reinforce 
 Craufurd's division, then forming a corps of observation upon Mas- 
 sena's movements. 
 
 The position he occupied was a most commanding one — the crown 
 of a long mountain ridge, studded with pine copse and cork trees, 
 presenting every facility for light infantry movements; and here and 
 there, gently sloping towards the plain, offering a field for cavalry 
 manoeuvres. Beneath, in the vast plain, were encamped the dark 
 legions of France, their heavy siege artillery planted against the 
 doomed fortress, while clouds of their cavalry caracoled proudly 
 before us, as if in taunting sarcasm at our inactivity. 
 
 Every artifice which his natural cunning could suggest, every 
 taunt a Frenchman's vocabulary contains, had been used by Mas- 
 sena to induce Sir Arthur Wellesley to come to the assistance of the 
 beleaguered fortress ; but in vain. In vain he relaxed the energy 
 of the siege, and affected carelessness. In vain he asserted that the 
 English were either afraid, or else traitors to their allies. The mind 
 of him he thus assailed was neither accessible to menace nor to sar- 
 casm. Patiently abiding his time, he watched the progress of events, 
 and provided for that future which was to crown his country's arms 
 with success, and himself with undying glory. 
 
 Of a far different mettle was the general formed under whose 
 orders we were now placed. Hot, passionate, and impetuous, relying 
 upon bold and headlong heroism, rather than upon cool judgment and 
 well-matured plans, Craufurd felt in war all the asperity and bitter- 
 ness of a personal conflict. Ill brooking the insulting tone of the 
 wily Frenchman, he thirsted for any occasion of a battle ; and his 
 proud spirit chafed against the colder counsels of his superior. 
 
 On the very morning we joined, the pickets brought in the intel- 
 ligence that the French patrols were nightly in the habit of visiting 
 the villages of the outposts, and committing every species of cruel 
 indignity upon the wretched inhabitants. Fired at this daring 
 insult, our General resolved to cut them off, and formed two ambus- 
 cades for that purpose. 
 
406 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Six squadrons of the 14th were despatched to Villa del Puerco, 
 three of the 16th to Baguetto, while some companies of the 95th, 
 and the cacadores, supported by artillery, were ordered to hold 
 themselves in reserve, for the enemy were in force at no great dis- 
 tance from us. 
 
 The morning was just breaking as an aide-de-camp galloped up 
 with the intelligence that the French had been seen near the Villa 
 del Puerco, a body of infantry and some cavalry having crossed the 
 plain, and disappeared in that direction. While our Colonel was 
 forming us, with the intention of getting between them and their 
 main body, the tramp of horses was heard in the wood behind, and 
 in a few moments two officers rode up. The foremost, who was a 
 short, stoutly-built man of about forty, with a bronzed face and 
 eye of piercing black, shouted out as we wheeled into column, — 
 
 " Halt, there ! Why, where the devil are you going? That's your 
 ground !" So saying, and pointing straight towards the village with 
 his hand, he would not listen to our Colonel's explanation that sev- 
 eral stone fences and enclosures would interfere with cavalry move- 
 ments, but added, " Forward, I say ! Proceed !" 
 
 Unfortunately, the nature of the ground separated our squadron, 
 as the Colonel anticipated ; and although we came on at a topping 
 pace, the French had time to form in square upon a hill to await us, 
 and when we charged, they stood firmly, and firing with a low and 
 steady aim, several of our troopers fell. As we wheeled round, we 
 found ourselves exactly in front of their cavalry coming out of 
 Baguilles ; so, dashing straight at them, we revenged ourselves for 
 our first repulse by capturing twenty-nine prisoners and wounding 
 several others. 
 
 The French infantry were, however, still unbroken ; and Colonel 
 Talbot rode boldly up with five squadrons of the 14th ; but the 
 charge, pressed home with all its gallantry, failed also, and the 
 Colonel fell mortally wounded, and fourteen of his troopers around 
 him. Twice we rode round the square seeking for a weak point, 
 but in vain ; the gallant Frenchman who commanded, Captain 
 Guache, stood fearlessly amid his brave followers, and we could hear 
 him, as he called out from time to time, 
 
 " C'est Qa, mes enfans ! tr£s bien fait, mes braves !" 
 
 And at length they made good their retreat, while we returned to 
 the camp, leaving thirty-two troopers and our brave Colonel dead 
 upon the field in this disastrous affair. 
 
 The repulse we had met with, so contrary to all our hopes and 
 expectations, made that a most gloomy day to all of us. The brave 
 fellows we had left behind us, the taunting cheer of the French 
 
THE SKIRMISH. 407 
 
 infantry, the unbroken ranks against which we rode time after time 
 in vain, never left our minds ; and a sense of shame of what might 
 be thought of us at head-quarters rendered the reflection still more 
 painful. 
 
 Our bivouac, notwithstanding all our efforts, was a sad one, and 
 when the moon rose, some drops of heavy rain falling at intervals 
 in the still, unruffled air, threatened a night of storm ; gradually the 
 sky grew darker and darker, the clouds hung nearer to the earth, and 
 a dense, thick mass of dark mist shrouded every object. The heavy 
 cannonade of the siege was stilled ; nothing betrayed that a vast 
 army was encamped near us ; their bivouac fires were even imper- 
 ceptible, and the only sound we heard was the great bell of Ciudad 
 Rodrigo as it struck the hour, and seemed, in the mournful cadence 
 of its chime, like the knell of the doomed citadel. 
 
 The patrol which I commanded had to visit on its rounds the most 
 advanced post of our position. This was a small farm-house, which, 
 standing upon a little rising ledge of ground, was separated from 
 the French lines by a small tributary stream to the Aguda. A party 
 of the 14th were picketed here, and beneath them, in the valley, 
 scarce five hundred yards distant, was a detachment of cuirassiers 
 which formed the French outpost. As we neared our picket, the 
 deep voice of the sentry challenged us, and, while all else was silent 
 as the grave, we could hear from the opposite side the merry chorus 
 of a French chanson a boire, with its clattering accompaniment of 
 glasses, as some gay companions were making merry together. 
 
 Within the little hut which contained our fellows, the scene was a 
 different one. The three officers who commanded sat moodily over 
 a wretched fire of wet wood ; a solitary candle dimly lighted the dis- 
 mantled room, where a table but ill-supplied with cheer stood un- 
 minded and uncared for. 
 
 " Well, O'Malley," cried Baker, as I came in, "what is the night 
 about? and what's Craufurd for next?" 
 
 " We hear," cried another, "that he means to give battle to-mor- 
 row ; but surely Sir Arthur's orders are positive enough. Gordon 
 himself told me that he was forbid to fight beyond the Coa, but to 
 retreat at the first advance of the enemy." 
 
 " I'm afraid," replied I, " that retreating is his last thought just 
 now. Ammunition has just been served out, and I know the horse 
 artillery have orders to be in readiness by daybreak." 
 
 "All right," said Hampden, with a half-bitter tone. " Nothing 
 like going through with it. If he is to be brought to court-mar- 
 tial for disobedience, he'll take good care we shan't be there to 
 see it." 
 
 "Why, the French are fifty thousand strong!" said Baker. 
 
408 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Look there ! What does that mean, now ? That's a signal from 
 the town." 
 
 As he spoke, a rocket of great brilliancy shot up into the sky, and 
 bursting, at length fell in millions of red lustrous sparks on every 
 side, showing forth the tall fortress, and the encamped army around 
 it, with all the clearness of noonday. It was a most splendid sight ; 
 and though the next moment all was dark as before, we gazed still 
 fixedly into the gloomy distance, straining our eyes to observe what 
 was hid from our view forever. 
 
 "That must be a signal," repeated Baker. 
 
 " Begad ! if Craufurd sees it, he'll interpret it as a reason for 
 fighting. I trust he's asleep by this time," said Hampden. " By 
 the bye, O'Malley, did you see the fellows at work in the trenches ? 
 How beautifully clear it was towards the southward !" 
 
 " Yes, I remarked that ; and what surprised me was the openness 
 of their position in that direction. Towards the San Benito mole I 
 could not see a man." 
 
 "Ah ! they'll not attack on that side : but if we really are " 
 
 " Stay, Hampden !" said I, interrupting him ; " a thought has just 
 struck me. At sunset I saw, through my telescope, the French en- 
 gineers marking with their white tape the line of a new entrench- 
 ment in that quarter. Would it not be a glorious thing to move 
 the tape, and bring the fellows under the fire of San Benito ?" 
 
 " By Jove! O'Malley, that is a thought worth a troop to you." 
 
 " Far more likely to forward his promotion in the next world than 
 in this," said Baker, smiling. 
 
 " By no means," added I ; " I marked the ground this evening, 
 and have it perfectly in my mind. If we were to follow the bend 
 of the river, I'll be bound we'd come right upon the spot ; by near- 
 ing the fortress we'll escape the sentries ; and all this portion is open 
 to us." 
 
 The project thus loosely thrown out was now discussed in all its 
 bearings. Whatever difficulties it presented were combated so much 
 to our own satisfaction, that at last its very facility damped our 
 ardor. Meanwhile, the night wore on, and the storm of rain so long 
 impending began to descend in very torrents ; hissing along the 
 parched ground, it rose in a mist, while overhead the heavy thunder 
 rolled in long unbroken peals, the crazy door threatened to give 
 way at each moment, and the whole building trembled to its foun- 
 dation. 
 
 "Pass the brandy down here, Hampden, and thank your stars 
 you're where you are. Eh, O'Malley? You'll defer your trip to San 
 Benito for finer weather." 
 
 "Well, to come to the point," said Hampden, "I'd rather begin 
 
THE SKIRMISH. 409 
 
 my engineering at a more favorable season; but if O'Malley's 
 for it " 
 
 " And O'Malley is for it," said I, suddenly. 
 
 " Then, faith, I'm not the man to baulk his fancy ; and as Crau- 
 furd is so bent upon fighting to-morrow, it don't make much differ- 
 ence. Is it a bargain ?" 
 
 " It is ; here's my hand on it." 
 
 " Come, come, boys," said Baker, " I'll have none of this ; we've 
 been prettily cut up this morning already. You shall not go upon 
 this foolish excursion." 
 
 " Confound it, old fellow ! it's all very well for you to talk, with 
 the majority before you next step ; but here we are, if peace came 
 to-morrow, scarcely better than we left England. No, no ; if 
 
 O'Malley's ready — and I see he is so before me What have you 
 
 got there ? Oh ! I see ; that's our tape line ; capital fun, by George ! 
 The worst of it is, they'll make us colonels of engineers. Now, then, 
 what's your plan — on foot or mounted ?" 
 
 " Mounted, and for this reason, the country is all open ; if we 
 are to have a run for it, our thorough-breds ought to distance them ; 
 and as we must expect to pass some of their sentries, our only 
 chance is on horseback." 
 
 " My mind is relieved of a great load," said Hampden. " I was 
 trembling in my skin lest you should make it a walking party. I'll 
 do anything you like in the saddle, from robbing the mail to cutting 
 out a frigate ; but I never was much of a footpad." 
 
 " Well, Mike," said I, as I returned to the room with my trusty 
 follower, " are the cattle to be depended on ?" 
 
 "If we had a snaffle in Malachi Daly's mouth" (my brown horse), 
 " I'd be afeared of nothing, sir; but if it comes to fencing, with that 
 
 cruel bit but sure, you've a light hand, and let him have his 
 
 head, if it's wall." 
 
 " By Jove, he thinks it a fox-chase !" said Hampden. 
 
 " Isn't it the same, sir ?" said Mike, with a seriousness that made 
 the whole party smile. 
 
 • "Well, I hope we shall not be earthed, anyway," said I. "Now, 
 the next thing is, who has a lantern? — ah! the very thing — nothing 
 better. Look to your pistols, Hampden ; and, Mike, here's a glass 
 of grog for you ; we'll want you. And now, one bumper for good 
 luck. Eh, Baker, won't you pledge us ?" 
 
 "And spare a little for me," said Hampden. "How it does rain ! 
 If one didn't expect to be waterproofed before morning, one really 
 wouldn't go out in such weather." 
 
 While I busied myself in making my few preparations, Hamp- 
 den proceeded gravely to inform Mike that we were going to the 
 
410 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 assistance of the besieged fortress, which could not possibly go on 
 without us. 
 
 " Tare and ages !" said Mike, " that's mighty quare ; and the blue 
 rocket was a letter of invitation, I suppose ?" 
 
 "Exactly," said Hampden; "and you see there's no ceremony 
 between us. We'll just drop in, in the evening, in a friendly way." 
 
 " Well, then, upon my conscience, I'd wait, if I was you, till the 
 family wasn't in confusion. They have enough on their hands just 
 now." 
 
 " So you'll not be persuaded ?" said Baker. " Well, I frankly 
 tell you that, come what will of it, as your senior officer, I'll report 
 you to-morrow. I'll not risk myself for any such hare-brained expe- 
 ditions." 
 
 "A mighty pleasant lookout for me," said Mike; "if I'm not shot 
 to-night, I may be flogged in the morning." . 
 
 This speech once more threw us into a hearty fit of laughter, amid 
 which we took leave of our friends, and set forth upon our way. 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 THE LINES OF CIUDAD RODRIGO. 
 
 THE small twinkling lights which shone from the ramparts of 
 Ciudad Eodrigo were our only guide as we issued forth upon 
 our perilous expedition. The storm raged, if possible, even 
 more violently than before, and gusts of wind swept along the 
 ground with the force of a hurricane, so that at first our horses 
 could scarcely face the tempest. Our path lay along the little stream 
 for a considerable way, after which, fording the rivulet, we entered 
 upon the open plain, taking care to avoid the French outpost on the 
 extreme left, which was marked by a bivouac fire, burning under 
 the heavy down-pour of rain, and looking larger through the dim 
 atmosphere around it. 
 
 I rode foremost, followed closely by Hampden and Mike. Not a 
 word was spoken after we crossed the stream. Our plan was, if 
 challenged by a patrol, to reply in French and press on ; so small a 
 party could never suggest the idea of attack, and we hoped in this 
 manner to escape. 
 
 The violence of the storm was such, that many of our precautions 
 as to silence were quite unnecessary; and we had advanced to a 
 considerable extent into the plain before any appearance of the 
 
THE LINES OF CIUDAD RODRIGO. 411 
 
 encampment struck us. At length, on mounting a little rising 
 ground, we perceived several fires stretching far away to the north- 
 ward, while still to our left there blazed one larger and brighter 
 than the others. We now found that we had not outflanked their 
 position as we intended, and learning, from the situation of the 
 fires, that we were still only at the outposts, we pressed sharply 
 forward, directing our course by the twin stars that shone from the 
 fortress. 
 
 " How heavy the ground is here !" whispered Hampden, as our 
 horses sunk above the fetlocks ; " we had better stretch away to the 
 right ; the rise of the hill will favor us." 
 
 " Hark !" said I ; " did you not hear something ? Pull up. 
 Silence now. Yes, there they come. It's a patrol ; I hear their 
 tramp." As I spoke, the measured tread of infantry was heard above 
 the storm, and soon after a lantern was seen coming along the 
 causeway near us. The column passed within a few yards of where 
 we stood. I could even recognize the black covering of the shakos 
 as the light fell on them. " Let us follow them," whispered I, and 
 the next moment we fell in upon their track, holding our cattle well 
 in hand, and ready to start at a moment. 
 
 " Qui va la ?" a sentry demanded. 
 
 " La deuxieme division," cried a hoarse voice. 
 
 "Halte la ! la consigne ?" 
 
 " Wagram !" repeated the same voice as before, while his party 
 resumed their march ; and the next moment the patrol was again 
 upon his post, silent and motionless as before. 
 
 " En avant, messieurs !" said I aloud, as soon as the infantry had 
 proceeded some distance ; " en avant !" 
 
 " Qui va la ?" demanded the sentry, as we came along at a sharp 
 trot. 
 
 " L'6tat-major, Wagram !" responded I, pressing on without draw- 
 ing rein ; and in a moment we had regained our former position be- 
 hind the infantry. We had scarcely time to congratulate ourselves 
 upon the success of our scheme, when a tremendous clattering noise 
 in front, mingled with the galloping of horses and the cracking of 
 whips, announced the approach of the artillery as they came along 
 by a narrow road which bisected our path. As they passed between 
 us and the column, we could hear the muttered sentences of the 
 drivers, cursing the Unseasonable time for an attack, and swearing 
 at their cattle in no measured tones. 
 
 " Did you hear that ?" whispered Hampden ; " the battery is 
 about to be directed against the San Benito, which must be far away 
 to the left. I heard one of the troop saying that they were to open 
 their fire at daybreak." 
 
412 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 " All right, now," said I ; " look there !" 
 
 From the hill we now stood upon, a range of lanterns was dis- 
 tinctly visible, stretching away for nearly half a mile. 
 
 "There are the trenches; they must be at work, too; see how 
 the lights are moving from place to place ! Straight, now. For- 
 ward I" 
 
 So saying, I pressed my horse boldly on. 
 
 We had not proceeded many minutes, when the sounds of gallop- 
 ing were heard coming along behind us. 
 
 " To the right, in the hollow," cried I ; "be still." 
 
 Scarcely had we moved off when several horsemen galloped up, 
 and, drawing their reins to breathe their horses up the hill, we could 
 hear their voices as they conversed together. 
 
 In the few broken words we could catch, we guessed that the 
 attack upon San Benito was only a feint to induce Craufurd to hold 
 his position, while the French, marching upon his flank and front, 
 were to attack him with overwhelming masses and crush him. 
 
 " You hear what's in store for us, O'Malley," whispered Hampden. 
 " I think we could not possibly do better than hasten back with the 
 intelligence." 
 
 " We must not forget what we came for, first," said I ; and the 
 next moment we were following the horsemen, who, from their hel- 
 mets, seemed horse-artillery officers. 
 
 The pace our guides rode at showed us that they knew their 
 ground. We passed several sentries, muttering something at each 
 time, and seeming as if only anxious to keep up with our party. 
 
 " They've halted," said I. " Now to the left there ; gently here, 
 for we must be in the midst of their lines. Ha ! I knew we were 
 right; see there!" 
 
 Before us, now, at a few hundred yards, we could perceive a num- 
 ber of men engaged upon the field. Lights were moving from place 
 to place rapidly, while immediately in front a strong picket of cav- 
 alry were halted. 
 
 " By Jove, there's sharp work of it to-night !" whispered Hamp- 
 den ; " they do intend to surprise us to-morrow." 
 
 " Gently now, to the left," said I, as, cautiously skirting the little 
 hill, I kept my eye firmly fixed upon the watch-fire. 
 
 The storm, which for some time had abated considerably, was now 
 nearly quelled, and the moon again peeped forth amid masses of 
 black and watery clouds. 
 
 " What good fortune for us !" thought I, at this moment, as I sur- 
 veyed the plain before me. 
 
 " I say, O'Malley, what are those fellows at, yonder, where the 
 blue light is burning?" 
 
THE LINES OF CIUDAD RODRIGO. 413 
 
 "Ah ! the very people we want ; these are the sappers. Now for 
 it, that's our ground ; we'll soon come upon their track now." 
 
 We pressed rapidly forward, passing an infantry party as we went. 
 The blue light was scarcely one hundred yards off; we could even 
 hear the shouting of the officers to their men in the trenches, when 
 suddenly my horse came down upon his head, and rolling over, 
 crushed me to the earth. 
 
 " Not hurt, my boy," cried I, in a subdued tone, as Hampden 
 jumped down beside me. 
 
 It was the angle of a trench I had fallen into ; and though both 
 my horse and myself felt stunned for the moment, we rallied the 
 next minute. 
 
 " Here is the very spot," said I. " Now, Mike, catch the bridles 
 and follow us closely." 
 
 Guiding ourselves along the edge of the trench, we crept stealthily 
 forward ; the only watch-fire near was where the engineer party was 
 halted, and our object was to get outside of this. 
 
 " My turn this time," said Hampden, as he tripped suddenly, and 
 fell head foremost upon the grass. 
 
 As I assisted him to rise, something caught my ankle ; and, on 
 stooping, I found it was a cord pegged fast into the ground, and 
 lying only a few inches above it. 
 
 " Now, steady ! see here ; this is their working line ; pass your 
 hand along it there, and let us follow it out." 
 
 While Hampden accordingly crept along on one side, I tracked 
 the cord upon the other ; here I found it terminating upon a small 
 mound, where probably some battery was to be erected. I accord- 
 ingly gathered it carefully up, and was returning towards my friend, 
 when what was my horror to hear Mike's voice, conversing, as it 
 seemed to me, with some one in French. 
 
 I stood fixed to the spot, my very heart beating almost in my 
 mouth as I listened. 
 
 " Qui etes vous done, mon ami ?" inquired a hoarse, deep voice, a 
 few yards off. 
 
 " Bon cheval, non beast, sacre nom de Dieu !" A hearty burst of 
 laughter prevented my hearing the conclusion of Mike's French. 
 
 I now crept forward upon my hands and knees, till I could catch 
 the dark outline of the horses, one hand fixed upon my pistol 
 trigger, and my sword drawn in the other. Meanwhile the dialogue 
 continued. 
 
 " Vous etes d'Alsace, n'est-ce-pas ?" asked the Frenchman, kindly 
 supposing that Mike's French savored of Strasburg. 
 
 " Oh, blessed Virgin ! av I might shoot him," was the muttered 
 reply. 
 
414 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Before I had time to see the effect of the last speech, I pressed 
 forward with a bold spring, and felled the Frenchman to the earth ; 
 my hand had scarcely pressed upon his mouth, when Hampden was 
 beside me. Snatching up the pistol I let fall, he held it to the man's 
 chest, and commanded him to be silent. To unfasten his girdle, 
 and bind the Frenchman's hands behind him, was the work of a 
 moment; and, as the sharp click of the pistol-cock seemed to calm 
 his efforts to escape, we soon succeeded in fastening his handkerchief 
 tight across his mouth, and the next minute he was placed behind 
 Mike's saddle, firmly attached to this worthy individual by his 
 sword-belt. 
 
 " Now, a clear run home for it, and a fair start," said Hampden, 
 as he sprang into the saddle. 
 
 "Now, then, for it," I replied, as, turning my horse's head 
 towards our lines, I dashed madly forward. 
 
 The moon was again obscured, but still the dark outline of the 
 hill which formed our encampment was discernible on the horizon. 
 Eiding side by side, on we hurried ; now splashing through the deep 
 and wet marshes, now plunging through small streams. Our horses 
 were high in mettle, and we spared them not ; by taking a wide 
 detour we had outflanked the French pickets, and were almost out of 
 all risk, when suddenly, on coming to the verge of a rather steep 
 hill, we perceived beneath us a strong cavalry picket standing 
 around a watch-fire ; their horses were ready saddled, the men ac- 
 coutred, and quite prepared for the field. While we conversed 
 together in whispers as to the course to follow, our deliberations 
 were very rapidly cut short. The French prisoner, who hitherto 
 had given neither trouble nor resistance, had managed to free his 
 mouth from the encumbrance of the handkerchief; and, as we stood 
 quietly discussing our plans, with one tremendous effort he endeav- 
 ored to hurl himself and Mike from the saddle, shouting out, as he 
 did so, 
 
 "A moi camarades ! a moi !" 
 
 Hampden's pistol leaped from the holster as he spoke, and, level- 
 ing it with a deadly aim, he pulled the trigger ; but I threw up his 
 arm, and the ball passed high above his head, To have killed the 
 Frenchman would have been to lose my faithful follower, who 
 struggled manfully with his adversary, and, at length, by throwing 
 himself flatly forward upon the mane of his horse, completely dis- 
 abled him. Meanwhile, the picket had sprung to their saddles, and 
 looked wildly about on every side. 
 
 Not a moment was to be lost; so, turning our horse's heads 
 towards the plain, away we went. One loud cheer announced to us 
 that we had been seen, and the next instant the clash of the pur- 
 
THE LINES OF CIUDAD RODRIGO. 415 
 
 suing cavalry was heard behind us. It was now entirely a question 
 of speed, and little need we have feared had Mike's horse not been 
 doubly weighted. However, as we still had considerably the start, 
 and the gray dawn of day enabled us to see the ground, the odds 
 were in our favor. " Never let your horse's head go," was my often- 
 repeated direction to Mike, as he spurred with all the desperation of 
 madness. Already the low meadow-land was in sight which flanked 
 the stream we had crossed in the morning ; but, unfortunately, the 
 heavy rains had swollen it now to a considerable depth, and the 
 muddy current, choked with branches of trees and great stones, was 
 hurrying down, like a torrent. " Take the river : never flinch it !" 
 was my cry to my companions, as I turned my head and saw a 
 French dragoon, followed by two others, gaining rapidly upon us. 
 As I spoke, Mike dashed in, followed by Hampden, and the same 
 moment the sharp ring of a carbine whizzed past me. To take off" 
 the pursuit from the others, I wheeled my horse suddenly round, as 
 if I feared to take the stream, and dashed along by the river's bank. 
 
 Beneath me, in the foaming current, the two horsemen labored ; 
 now stemming the rush of water, now reeling almost beneath. A 
 sharp cry burst from Mike as I looked ; and I saw the poor 
 fellow bend nearly to his saddle. I could see no more, for the chase 
 was now hot upon myself; behind me rode a French dragoon, his car- 
 bine pressed tightly to his side, ready to fire as he pressed on in 
 pursuit. I had but one chance ; so, drawing my pistol, I wheeled 
 suddenly in my saddle, and fired straight at him. The Frenchman 
 fell, while a regular volley from his party rung around me ; one ball 
 striking my horse, and another lodging in the pommel of my saddle. 
 The noble animal reeled nearly to the earth, but as if rallying for a 
 last effort, sprang forward with renewed energy and plunged boldly 
 into the river. 
 
 For a moment, so sudden was my leap, my pursuers lost sight of 
 me ; but the bank being somewhat steep, the efforts of my horse to 
 climb again discovered me, and before I reached the field, two pistol- 
 balls took effect upon me : one slightly grazed my side, but my 
 bridle-arm was broken by the other, and my hand fell motionless to 
 my side. A cheer of defiance was, however, my reply, as I turned 
 round in my saddle, and the next moment I was far beyond the 
 range of their fire. 
 
 Not a man durst follow, and the last sight I had of them was the 
 dismounted group who stood around their dead comrade ; before me 
 rode Hampden and Mike, still at top speed, and never turning their 
 heads backward. I hastened after them ; but my poor wounded 
 horse, nearly hamstrung by the shot, became dead lame, and it was 
 past daybreak ere I reached the first outposts of our lines. 
 
416 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE DOCTOR. 
 
 AND his wound? Is it a serious one?" said a round full voice 
 as the Doctor left my room at the conclusion of his visit. 
 " No, sir ; a fractured bone is the worst of it ; the bullet 
 grazed, but did not cut the artery ; and, as " 
 
 " Well, how soon will he be about again?" 
 
 " In a few weeks, if no fever sets in." 
 
 "There is no objection to my seeing him? — a few minutes only — 
 I'll be cautious." So saying, and, as it seemed to me, without wait- 
 ing for a reply, the door was opened by an aide-de-camp, who an- 
 nouncing General Craufurd, closed it again and withdrew. 
 
 The first glance I threw upon the General enabled me to recog- 
 nize the officer who on the previous morning had ridden up to the 
 picket and given us the orders to charge. I essayed to rise a little 
 as he came forward, but he motioned me with his hand to lie still, 
 while, placing a chair close beside my bed, he sat down. 
 
 " Very sorry for your mishap, sir, but glad it is no worse. More- 
 ton says that nothing of consequence is injured. There, you mustn't 
 speak, except I ask you. Hampden has told me everything neces- 
 sary ; at least, as far as he knew. Is it your opinion, also, that any 
 movement is in contemplation? and from what circumstance?" 
 
 I immediately explained, and as briefly as I was able, the reasons 
 for suspecting such, with which he seemed quite satisfied. I detailed 
 the various changes in the positions of the troops that were taking 
 place during the night, the march of the artillery, and the strong 
 bodies of cavalry that were posted in reserve along the river. 
 
 " Very well, sir ; they'll not move ; your prisoner, a quarter- 
 master of an infantry battalion, says not, also. Yours was a bold 
 stroke, but could not possibly have been of service, and the best 
 thing I can do for you is not to mention it ; a court- martial's but a 
 poor recompense for a gun-shot wound. Meanwhile, when this blows 
 over, I'll appoint you on my personal staff. There, not a word, I 
 beg ; and now, good-bye." 
 
 So saying, and waving me an adieu with his hand, the gallant 
 veteran withdrew before I could express my gratitude for his kind- 
 
 I had little time for reflecting over my past adventure, such 
 numbers of my brother officers poured in upon me. All the 
 Doctor's cautions respecting quietness and rest were disregarded, 
 and a perfect levee sat the entire morning in my bedroom. I was 
 delighted to learn that Mike's wound, though painful at the moment, 
 
THE DOCTOR. 417 
 
 was of no consequence ; and, indeed, Hampden, who escaped botli 
 steel and shot, was the worst off amongst us, his plunge in the river 
 having brought on an ague he had labored under years before. 
 
 " The illustrious Maurice has been twice here this morning, but 
 they wouldn't admit him. Your Scotch physician is afraid of his 
 Irish confrere, and they had a rare set-to about Galen and Hippo- 
 crates outside," said Baker. 
 
 " By the bye, 7 ' said another, " did you see how Sparks looked when 
 Quill joined us? Egad, I never saw a fellow in such a fright; he 
 reddened up, then grew pale, turned his back, and slunk away at the 
 very first moment." 
 
 " Yes, I remember it. We must find out the reason ; for Maurice, 
 depend upon it, has been hoaxing the poor fellow." 
 
 " Well, O'Malley/' growled out the senior Major, " you certainly 
 did give Hampden a benefit. He'll not trust himself in such com- 
 pany again ; and, begad, he says the man is as bad as the master. 
 That fellow of yours never let go his prisoner till he reached the 
 Quartermaster-General, and they were both bathed in blood by that 
 time." 
 
 " Poor Mike ! we must do something for him." 
 
 " Oh ! he's as happy as a king. Maurice has been in to see him, 
 and they've had a long chat about Ireland, and all the national pas- 
 times of whisky-drinking and smashing skulls. My very temples 
 ache at the recollection." 
 
 "Is Mister O'Mealey at home?" said a very rich Cork accent, as 
 the well-known and most droll features of Dr. Maurice Quill ap- 
 peared at the door. 
 
 " Come in, Maurice," said the Major ; " and, for Heaven's sake, 
 behave properly. The poor fellow must not have a row about his 
 bedside." 
 
 " A row — a row ! Upon my conscience, it is little you know about 
 a row, and there's worse things going than a row." 
 
 " Which leg is it ?" 
 
 " It's an arm, Doctor, I'm happy to say." 
 
 "Not your punch hand, I hope. No; all's right. A neat fellow 
 you have for a servant, that Mickey Free. I was asking him about 
 a townsman of his own, one Tim Delany — the very cut of himself; 
 the best servant I ever had. I never could make out what became 
 of him, Old Hobson, of the 95th, gave him to me, saying, 'There 
 he is for you, Maurice, and a bigger thief and a greater blackguard 
 there's not in the 60th.' 
 
 " ' Strong words,' said I. 
 
 " ' And true,' said he ; ' he'd steal your molar tooth while you were 
 laughing at him,' 
 27 
 
418 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " i Let me have him, and try my hand on him, anyway. I've got 
 no one just now. Anything is better than nothing.' 
 
 "Well, I took Tim, and sending for him to my room, I locked the 
 door, and sitting down gravely before him, explained in a few words 
 that I was quite aware of his little propensities. 
 
 " ' Now/ said I, ' if you like to behave well, I'll think you as 
 honest as the Chief Justice ; but if I catch you stealing, if it be only 
 the value of a brass snuff-box, I'll have you flogged before the regi- 
 ment, as sure as my name's Maurice.' 
 
 " Oh ! I wish you heard the volley of protestations that fell from 
 him fast as hail. He was a calumniated man ; the world conspired 
 to wrong him ; he was never a thief nor a rogue in his life. He had 
 a weakness, he confessed, for the ladies ; but, except that, he hoped 
 he might die so thin that he could shave himself with his shin-bone 
 if he ever so much as took a pinch of salt that wasn't his own. 
 
 " However this might be, nothing could be better than the way 
 Tim and I got on together. Everything was in its place — nothing 
 missing ; and, in fact, for upwards of a year, I went on wondering 
 when he was to show out in his true colors — for hitherto he had been 
 a phoenix. 
 
 "At last — we were quartered at Limerick at the time — every 
 morning used to bring accounts of all manner of petty thefts in the 
 barrack. One fellow had lost his belt, another his shoes, a third 
 had three-and-sixpence in his pocket when he went to bed, and 
 woke without a farthing, and so on. Everybody save myself was 
 mulcted of something. At length some rumors of Tim's former 
 propensities got abroad ; suspicion was excited ; my friend Delany 
 was rigidly watched, and some very dubious circumstances attached 
 to the way he spent his evenings. 
 
 "My brother officers called upon me about the matter, and 
 although nothing had transpired like proof, I sent for Tim, and 
 opened my mind on the subject. 
 
 " You may talk of the look of conscious innocence, but I defy you 
 to conceive of anything finer than the stare of offended honor Tim 
 gave me as I began. 
 
 " 'They say it's me, Doctor, do they?' said he. 'And you — you 
 believe them. You allow them to revile me that way ? Well, well, 
 the world is come to a pretty pass, anyhow ! Now, let me ask your 
 honor a few questions. How many shirts had yourself when I 
 entered your service? Two, and one was more like a fishing-net! 
 And how many have ye now ? Eighteen ; ay, eighteen bran new 
 cambric ones— devil a hole in one of them ! How many pair of 
 stockings had you ? Three and an odd one. You have two dozen 
 this minute. How many pocket-handkerchiefs? One — devil a 
 
THE COA. 419 
 
 more I You could only blow your nose two days in the week, and 
 now may every hour of the twenty-four ! And as to the trifling 
 articles of small value, snuff-boxes, gloves, boot-jacks, night-caps, 
 and ' 
 
 " ' Stop, Tim, that's enough ! 
 
 " ' No, sir, it is not/ said Tim, drawing himself up to his full 
 height ; ' you have wounded my feelings in a way I can't forget. It 
 is impossible we can have that mutual respect our position demands. 
 Farewell, farewell, Doctor, and forever !' 
 
 " Before I could say another word, the fellow had left the room, 
 and closed the door after him ; and from that hour to this I never 
 set eyes on him." 
 
 In this vein did the worthy Doctor run on, till some more dis- 
 creet friend suggested that however well-intentioned the visit, I did 
 not seem to be fully equal to it — my flushed cheek and anxious eye 
 betrayed that the fever of my wound had commenced ; they left me, 
 therefore, once more alone, and to my solitary musings over the 
 vicissitudes of my fortune. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE COA. 
 
 WITHIN a week from the occurrence of the events just men- 
 tioned, Ciudad Rodrigo surrendered, and Craufurd assumed 
 another position beneath the walls of Almeida. The 
 Spanish contingent having left us, we were reinforced by the arrival 
 of two battalions, renewed orders having been sent not to risk a 
 battle, but if the French should advance, to retire beyond the Coa. 
 
 On the evening of the 21st of July, a strong body of French 
 cavalry advanced into the plain, supported by some heavy guns, 
 upon which Craufurd retired upon the Coa, intending, as we sup- 
 posed, to place that river between himself and the enemy. Three 
 days, however, passed over without any movement upon either side, 
 and we still continued, with a force of scarcely four thousand 
 infantry and a thousand dragoons, to stand opposite to an army of 
 nearly fifty thousand men. Such was our position as the night of 
 the 24th set in. I was sitting alone in my quarters. Mike, whose 
 wound had been severer than at first was supposed, had been sent 
 to Almeida, and I was musing in solitude upon the events of the 
 campaign, when the noise and bustle without excited my attention. 
 
420 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 The roll of artillery wagons, the clash of musketry, and the distant 
 sound of marching, all proved that the troops were effecting some 
 new movement, and I burned with anxiety to learn what it was. 
 My brother officers, however, came not as usual to my quarters, and 
 although I waited with impatience while the hours rolled by, no one 
 appeared. 
 
 Long, low, moaning gusts of wind swept along the earth, carrying 
 the leaves as they tore them from the trees, and mingling their sad 
 sounds with the noises of the retiring troops ; for I could perceive 
 that gradually the sounds grew more and more remote, and only 
 now and then could I trace their position as the roll of a distant 
 drum swelled upon the breeze, or the more shrill cry of a pibroch 
 broke upon my ear. A heavy down-pour of rain followed soon after, 
 and its unceasing plash drowned all other sounds. 
 
 As the little building shook beneath the peals of loud thunder, 
 the lightning flashed in broad sheets upon the rapid river, which, 
 swollen and foaming, dashed impetuously beside my window. By 
 the uncertain but vivid glare of the flashes, I endeavored to ascertain 
 where our force was posted, but in vain. Never did I witness such 
 a night of storm. The deep booming of the thunder seemed never 
 for a moment to cease, while the rush of the torrent grew gradually 
 louder, till at length it swelled into one deep and sullen roar like 
 that of distant artillery. 
 
 Weak and nervous as I felt from the effects of my wound, feverish 
 and exhausted by days of suffering and sleepless nights, I paced 
 my little room with tottering but impatient steps. The sense of my 
 sad and imprisoned state impressed me deeply; and while from 
 time to time I replenished my fire, and hoped to hear some friendly 
 step upon the stair, my heart grew gradually heavier, and every 
 gloomy and depressing thought suggested itself to my imagination. 
 My most constant impression was that the troops were retiring 
 beyond the Coa, and that, forgotten in the haste and confusion of 
 a night march, I had been left behind to fall a prisoner to the 
 enemy. 
 
 The sounds of the troops retiring gradually farther and farther 
 favored the idea, in which I was still more strengthened on finding 
 that the peasants who inhabited the little hut had departed, leaving 
 me utterly alone. From the moment I ascertained this fact, my 
 impatience knew no bounds ; and in proportion as I began to feel 
 some exertion necessary on my part, so much more did my nervous- 
 ness increase my debility, and at last I sank exhausted upon my 
 bed, while a cold perspiration broke out upon my temples. 
 
 I have mentioned that the Coa was immediately beneath the 
 house ; I must also add, that the little building occupied the angle 
 
THE COA. 421 
 
 of a steep but narrow gorge which descended from the plain to the 
 bridge across the stream. This, as far as I knew, was the only- 
 means we possessed of passing the river, so that, when the last retir- 
 ing sounds of the troops were heard by me, I began to suspect that 
 Craufurd, in compliance with his orders, was making a backward 
 movement, leaving the bridge open to the French, to draw them on 
 to his line of march, while he should cross over at some more dis- 
 tant point. 
 
 As the night grew later, the storm seemed to increase ; the waves 
 of the foaming river dashed against the frail walls of the hut, while 
 its roof, rent by the blast, fell in fragments upon the stream, and all 
 threatened a speedy and perfect ruin. 
 
 How I longed for morning ! The doubt and uncertainty I suf- 
 fered nearly drove me distracted. Of all the casualties my career 
 as a soldier opened, none had such horrors for me as imprisonment ; 
 the very thought of the long years of inaction and inglorious idle- 
 ness was worse than any death. My wounds, and the state of fever 
 I was in, increased the morbid dread upon me, and had the French 
 captured me at the time, I know not that madness of which I was 
 not capable. Day broke at last, but slowly and sullenly. The gray 
 clouds hurried past upon the storm, pouring down the rain in tor- 
 rents as they went, and the desolation and dreariness on all sides 
 was scarcely preferable to the darkness and glocm of night. My 
 eyes were turned ever towards the plain, across which the winter 
 wind bore the plashing rain in vast sheets of water ; the thunder 
 crashed louder and louder; but except the sounds of the storm, none 
 others met my ear. Not a man, not a human figure, could I see, as 
 I strained my sight towards the distant horizon. 
 
 The morning crept over, but the storm abated not, and the same 
 unchanged aspect of dreary desolation prevailed without. At times 
 I thought I could hear, amidst the noises of the tempest, something 
 like the roll of distant artillery ; but the thunder swelled in sullen 
 roar above all, and left me uncertain as before. 
 
 At last, in a momentary pause of the storm, a tremendous peal of 
 heavy guns caught my ear, followed by a long rattling of small-arms. 
 My heart bounded with ecstasy. The thought of the battle-field, 
 with all its changing fortunes, was better, a thousand times better, 
 than the despairing sense of desertion I labored under. I listened 
 now with eagerness, but the rain bore down again in torrents, and 
 the crumbling walls and falling timbers left no other sounds to be 
 heard. Far as my eye could reach, nothing could still be seen save 
 the dreary monotony of the vast plain, undulating slightly here and 
 there, but unmarked by a sign of man. 
 
 Far away towards the horizon I had remarked for some time pa*t 
 
422 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 that the clouds resting upon the earth grew blacker and blacker, 
 spreading out to either side in vast masses, and not broken or wafted 
 along like the rest. As I watched the phenomenon with an anxious 
 eye, I perceived the dense mass suddenly appear, as it were rent 
 asunder, while a volume of liquid flame rushed wildly out, throwing 
 a lurid glare on every side. One terrific clap, louder than any thun- 
 der, shook the air at this moment, while the very earth trembled 
 beneath the shock. 
 
 As I hesitated what it might be, the heavy din of great guns 
 again was heard, and from the midst of the black smoke rode forth 
 a dark mass, which I soon recognized as the horse-artillery at full 
 gallop. They were directing their course towards the bridge. 
 
 As they mounted the little rising ground, they wheeled and un- 
 limbered with the speed of lightning, just as a strong column of 
 cavalry showed above the ridge. One tremendous discharge again 
 shook the field, and ere the smoke cleared away they were again far 
 in retreat. 
 
 So much was my attention occupied with this movement, that I 
 had not perceived the long line of infantry that came from the 
 extreme left, and were now advancing also towards the bridge at a 
 brisk, quick step ; scattered bodies of cavalry came up from different 
 parts, while from the little valley, every now and then, a rifleman 
 would mount the rising ground, turning to fire as he retreated. All 
 this boded a rapid and disorderly retreat ; and although as yet I 
 could see nothing of the pursuing enemy, I knew too well the rela- 
 tive forces of each to have a doubt for the result. 
 
 At last the head of a French column appeared above the mist, and 
 I could plainly distinguish the gestures of the officers as they hurried 
 their men onwards. Meanwhile, a loud hurrah attracted my atten- 
 tion, and I turned my eyes towards the road which led to the river. 
 Here a small body of the 95th had hurriedly assembled ; and, formed 
 again, were standing to cover the retreat of the broken infantry as 
 they pressed on eagerly to the bridge ; in a second after the French 
 cuirassiers appeared. Little anticipating resistance from a flying 
 and disordered mass, they rode headlong forward, and although the 
 firm attitude and steady bearing of the Highlanders might have 
 appalled them, they rode heedlessly down upon the square, sabring 
 the very men in the front rank. Till now not a trigger had been 
 pulled, when suddenly the word " Fire !" was given, and a withering 
 volley of balls sent the cavalry column in shivers. One hearty 
 cheer broke from the infantry in the rear, and I could hear "Gal- 
 lant 95th !" shouted on every side along the plain. 
 
 The whole vast space before me was now one animated battle- 
 ground. Our own troops retiring in haste before the overwhelming 
 
THE COA. 423 
 
 forces of the French, occupied every little vantage ground with their 
 guns and light infantry, charges of cavalry coursing hither and 
 thither ; while, as the French pressed forward, the retreating col- 
 umns again formed into squares to permit stragglers to come up. 
 The rattle of small-arms, the heavy peal of artillery, the earthquake 
 crash of cavalry, rose on every side, while the cheers which alter- 
 nately told of the vacillating fortune of the fight rose amidst the wild 
 pibroch of the Highlanders. « 
 
 A tremendous noise now took place on the floor beneath me ; and, 
 looking down, I perceived that a sergeant and party of the Sappers 
 had taken possession of the little hut, and were busily engaged 
 piercing the walls for musketry; and before many minutes had 
 elapsed, a company of the Rifles were thrown into the building, 
 which, from its commanding position above, enfiladed the whole 
 line of march. The officer in command briefly informed me that 
 we had been attacked that morning by the French in force, and 
 " devilishly well thrashed ;" that we were now in retreat beyond the 
 Coa, where we ought to have been three days previously, and de- 
 sired me to cross the bridge and get myself out of the way as soon 
 as I possibly could. 
 
 A twenty-four pounder from the French lines struck the angle of 
 the house as he spoke, scattering the mortar and broken bricks about 
 us on all sides. This was a warning sufficient for me, wounded and 
 disabled as I was ; so, taking the few things I could save in my 
 haste, I hurried from the hut, and descending the path, now slip- 
 pery by the heavy rain, I took my way across the bridge, and estab- 
 lished myself on a little rising knoll of ground beyond, from which 
 a clear view could be obtained of the whole field. 
 
 I had not been many minutes in my present position ere the pass 
 which led down to the bridge became thronged with troops, wagons, 
 ammunition carts, and hospital stores, pressing thickly forward amid 
 shouting and uproar ; the hills on either side of the way were 
 crowded with troops, who formed as they came up, the artillery 
 taking up their position on every rising ground. The firing had 
 already begun, aud the heavy booming of the large guns was heard 
 at intervals amid the rattling crash of musketry. Except the nar- 
 row road before me, and the high bank of the stream, I could see 
 nothing; but the tumult and din, which grew momentarily louder, 
 told that the tide of battle raged nearer and nearer. Still the retreat 
 continued ; and at length the heavy artillery came thundering across 
 the narrow bridge, followed by stragglers of all arms, and wounded, 
 hurrying to the rear. The sharpshooters and the Highlanders held 
 the heights above the stream, thus covering the retiring columns ; 
 but I could plainly perceive that their fire was gradually slackening, 
 
424 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 and that the guns which flanked their position were withdrawn, and 
 everything bespoke a speedy retreat. A tremendous discharge of 
 musketry at this moment, accompanied by a deafening cheer, an- 
 nounced the advance of the French, and soon the head of the High- 
 land brigade was seen descending towards the bridge, followed by 
 the Kifles and the 95th ; the cavalry, consisting of th£ 11th and 14th 
 •Light Dragoons, were now formed in column of attack, and the 
 infantry deployed into line; in an instant after, high above the din 
 and crash of battle, I heard the word " Charge !" The rising crest 
 of the hill hid them from my sight, but my heart bounded with 
 ecstasy as I listened to the clanging sound of the cavalry advance. 
 Meanwhile, the infantry pressed on, and forming upon the bank, 
 took up a strong position in front of the bridge ; the heavy guns 
 were also unlimbered, riflemen scattered through the low copse- 
 wood, and every precaution taken to defend the pass to the last. 
 For a moment all my attention was riveted to the movements upon 
 our own side of the stream, when suddenly the cavalry bugle 
 sounded the recall, and the same moment the staff came galloping 
 across the bridge. One officer I could perceive, covered with orders 
 and trappings; his head was bare, and his horse, splashed with 
 blood and foam, moved lamely and with difficulty ; he turned in the 
 middle of the bridge, as if irresolute whether to retreat farther. 
 One glance at him showed me the bronzed, manly features of our 
 leader. Whatever his resolve, the matter was soon decided for him, 
 for the cavalry came galloping swiftly down the slope, and in an 
 instant the bridge was blocked up by the retreating forces, while the 
 French, as suddenly appearing above the height, opened a plunging 
 fire upon their defenceless enemies. Their cheer of triumph was 
 answered by our fellows from the opposite bank, and a heavy can- 
 nonade thundered along the rocky valley, sending up a hundred 
 echoes as it went. 
 
 The scene now became one of overwhelming interest. The French, 
 posting their guns upon the height, replied to our fire, while their 
 line, breaking into skirmishers, descended the banks to the river 
 edge, and poured in one sheet of galling musketry. The road to the 
 bridge, swept by our artillery, presented not a single file; and 
 although a movement among the French announced the threat of 
 an attack, the deadly service of the artillery seemed to pronounce 
 it hopeless. 
 
 A strong cavalry force stood inactively, spectators of the combat, 
 on the French side, among whom I now remarked some bustle 
 and preparation. As I looked, an officer rode boldly to the river 
 edge, and spurring his horse forward, plunged into the stream. 
 The swollen and angry torrent, increased by the late rains, boiled 
 
THE COA. 425 
 
 like barm and foamed around him as he advanced ; when suddenly 
 his horse appeared to have lost its footing, and the rapid current, 
 circling around him, bore him along with it. He labored madly, 
 but in vain, to retrace his steps ; the rolling torrent rose above his 
 saddle, and all that his gallant steed could do was barely sufficient 
 to keep afloat ; both man and horse were carried down between the 
 contending armies. I could see him wave his hand to his comrades 
 as if in adieu. One deafening cheer of admiration rose from the 
 French lines, and the next moment he was seen to fall from his seat, 
 and his body, shattered with balls, floated mournfully upon the 
 stream. 
 
 This little incident, to which both armies were witnesses, seemed 
 to have called forth all the fiercer passions of the contending forces. 
 A loud yell of taunting triumph rose from the Highlanders, re- 
 sponded to by a cry of vengeance from the French, and the same 
 moment the head of a column was seen descending the narrow cause- 
 way to the bridge, while an officer, with a whole blaze of decora- 
 tions and crosses, sprang from his horse and took the lead. The 
 little drummer, a child scarcely ten years old, tripped gayly on, 
 beating his little pas de charge, seeming rather like the play of in- 
 fancy than the summons to death and carnage, as the heavy guns of 
 the French opened a volume of fire and flame to cover the attacking 
 column. For a moment all was hid from our eyes ; the moment 
 after the grapeshot swept along the narrow causeway; and the 
 bridge, which but a second before was crowded with the life and 
 courage of a noble column, was now one heap of dead and dying. 
 The gallant fellow who led them on fell among the first rank, and 
 the little child, as if kneeling, was struck dead beside the parapet; 
 his fair hair floated across his cold features, and seemed in its motion 
 to lend a look of life where the heart throb had ceased forever. The 
 artillery again reopened upon us ; and when the smoke had cleared 
 away, we discovered that the French had advanced to the middle of 
 the bridge and carried off the body of their general. Twice they 
 essayed to cross, and twice the death-dealing fire of our guns covered 
 the narrow bridge with slain, while by the wild pibroch of the 42d, 
 swelling madly into notes of exultation and triumph, the High- 
 landers could scarcely be prevented from advancing hand to hand 
 with the foe. Gradually the French slackened their fire, their great 
 guns were one by one withdrawn from the heights, and a dropping, 
 irregular musketry at intervals sustained the fight, which, ere sunset, 
 ceased altogether ; and thus ended " The Battle of the Coa I" 
 
426 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE NIGHT MARCH. 
 
 SCARCELY had the night fallen when our retreat commenced. 
 Tired and weary as our brave fellows felt, but little repose was 
 allowed them ; their bivouac fires were blazing brightly, and 
 they had just thrown themselves in groups around them, when the 
 word to fall in was passed from troop to troop, and from battalion 
 to battalion — no trumpet, no bugle, called them to their ranks. It 
 was necessary that all should be done noiselessly and speedily; 
 while, therefore, the wounded were marched to the front, and the 
 heavy artillery with them, a brigade of light four-pounders, and two 
 squadrons of cavalry, held the heights above the bridge, and the in- 
 fantry, forming into three columns, began their march. 
 
 My wound, forgotten in the heat and excitement of the conflict, 
 was now becoming excessively painful, and I gladly availed myself 
 of a place in a wagon, where, stretched upon some fresh straw, with 
 no other covering save the starry sky, I soon fell sound asleep, and 
 neither the heavy jolting of the rough conveyance nor the deep and 
 rutty road was able to disturb my slumbers. Still through my sleep 
 I heard the sounds around me, the heavy tramp of infantry, the 
 clash of the moving squadrons, and the dull roll of artillery ; and 
 ever and anon the half-stifled cry of pain, mingling with the reck- 
 less carol of some drinking song, all flitted through my dreams, 
 lending to my thoughts of home and friends a memory of glorious 
 war. 
 
 All the vicissitudes of a soldier's life passed then in review before 
 me, elicited in some measure by the things about. The pomp and 
 grandeur, the misery and meanness, the triumph, the defeat, the 
 moment of victory, and the hour of death, were there, and in that 
 vivid dream I lived a long life. 
 
 I awoke at length. The cold and chilling air which follows mid- 
 night blew around me, and my wounded arm felt as though it were 
 frozen. I tried to cover myself beneath the straw, but in vain, and 
 as my limbs trembled and my teeth chattered, I thought again of 
 home, where, at that moment, the poorest menial of my uncle's 
 house was better lodged than I, and, strange, to say, something of 
 pride mingled with the thought, and in my lonely heart a feeling of 
 elation cheered me. 
 
 These reflections were interrupted by the sound of a voice near me, 
 which I at once knew to be O'Shaughnessy's ; he was on foot, and 
 speaking evidently in some excitement. 
 
 " I tell you, Maurice, some confounded blunder there must be ; 
 
THE NIGHT MARCH 427 
 
 sure he was left in that cottage near the bridge, and no one saw him 
 after." 
 
 " The French took it from the Rifles before we crossed the river. 
 By Jove ! I'll wager my chance of promotion against a pint of sherry 
 he'll turn up somewhere in the morning ; those Galway chaps have 
 as many lives as a cat." 
 
 "See, now, Maurice, I wouldn't for a full colonelcy anything 
 would happen to him — I like the boy." 
 
 , "So do I myself; but I tell you there's no danger of him. Did 
 you ask Sparks anything ?" 
 
 " Ask Sparks ! God help you ! Sparks would go off in a fit at the 
 sight of me. No, no, poor creature ! it's little use it would be my 
 speaking to him." 
 
 " Why so, Doctor?" cried I, from my straw couch. 
 
 " May I never, if it's not him ! Charley, my son, I'm glad you're 
 safe. 'Faith, I thought you were on your way to Yerdun by this 
 time." 
 
 " Sure, I told you he'd find his way here ; but, O'Mealey, dear, 
 you're mighty could — a rigor, as old M'Lauchlan would call it." 
 
 " E'en sae, Maister Quill," said a broad Scotch accent behind 
 him ; " and I canna see ony objection to giein' things their right 
 names." 
 
 " The top of the morning to you !" said Quill, familiarly patting 
 him on the back ; " how goes it, old Brimstone ?" 
 
 The conversation might not have taken a very amicable turn had 
 M'Lauchlan heard the latter part of this speech ; but as, happily, he 
 was engaged unpacking a small canteen which he had placed in the 
 wagon, it passed unnoticed. 
 
 " Ye'll no' dislike a toothfu' o' something warm, Major," said he, 
 presenting a glass to O'Shaughnessy ; " and if ye'll permit me, Mr. 
 O'Mealey, to help you " 
 
 "A thousand thanks, Doctor ; but I fear a broken arm." 
 
 * There's naething in the whisky to prevent the proper formation 
 of callus." 
 
 * By the rock of Cashel, it never made any one callous," said 
 O'Shaughnessy, mistaking the import of the phrase. 
 
 " Ye are nae drinking frae the flask ?" said the Doctor, turning in 
 some agitation towards Quill. 
 
 " Devil a bit, my darling. I've a little horn convaniency here, 
 that holds half a pint, nice measure." 
 
 I don't imagine that our worthy friend participated in Quill's ad- 
 miration of the " convaniency," for he added, in a dry tone, 
 
 " Ye may as weel tak' your liquor frae a glass, like a Christian, as 
 stick your nose in a coo's horn." 
 
428 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 " By my conscience, you're no small judge of spirits, wherever you 
 learned it," said the Major; " it's like Islay malt!" 
 
 " I was aye reckoned a gude ane," said the Doctor, w and my 
 mifher's brither, Caimbogie, hadna his like in the north country. Ye 
 maybe heerd tell what he aince said to the Duchess of Argyle, when 
 she sent for him to taste her claret." 
 
 *" Never heard of it," quoth Quill j " let's have it by all means. I'd 
 like to hear what the Duchess said to him." 
 
 " It wasna what the Duchess said to him, but what he said to the 
 Duchess, ye ken. The way of it was this :— My uncle, Caimbogie, 
 was aye up at the castle, for, besides his knowledge of liquor, there 
 wasna his match for deer-stalking, or spearing a salmon, in those 
 parts. He was a great, rough carle, it's true, but ane ye'd rather 
 crack wi' than fight wi'. 
 
 " Weel, ae day they had a grand dinner at the Duke's, and there 
 were plenty o' great southern lords and braw leddies in velvets and 
 satin ; and vara muckle surprised they were at my uncle, when he 
 came in wi' his tartan kilt, in full Highland dress, as the head of a 
 clan ought to do. Caimbogie, however, paid nae attention to them, 
 but he ate his dinner and drank his wine, and talked away about 
 fallow and red deer, and at last the Duchess — for she was aye fond 
 o' him — addressed him frae the head o' the table : — 
 
 " ' Caimbogie, I'd like to hae your opinion about that wine. It's 
 some the Duke has just received, and we should like to hear what 
 you think of it.' 
 
 " ' It's no sae bad, my leddy,' said my uncle ; for ye see he was a 
 man o' few words, and never flattered onybody. 
 
 " ' Then you don't much approve of it ?' said the Duchess. 
 " ' I've drank better, and I've drank waur,' quo' he. 
 " ' I'm sorry you don't like it, Caimbogie,' said the Duchess, ' for 
 it never can be popular now; we have such a dependence upon 
 your taste/ 
 
 " ' I canna say ower muckle for my taste, my leddy ; but ae thing 
 I will say, I've a most d — smellV 
 
 " I hear that never since the auld walls stood was there ever the 
 like o' the laughing that followed. The puir Duke himsel' was car- 
 ried away, and nearly had a fit, and a' the grand lords and leddies 
 a'most died of it. But, see here, the carle hasna left a drap o' 
 whisky in the flask." 
 
 "The last glass I drained to your respectable uncle's health," 
 said Quill, with a most professional gravity. "Now, Charley, make 
 a little room for me in the straw." 
 
 The Doctor soon mounted beside me, and giving me a share of his 
 ample cloak, considerably ameliorated my situation. 
 
THE NIGHT MARCH. 429 
 
 " So ^ou knew Sparks, Doctor ?" said I, with a strong curiosity 
 to hear something of his early acquaintance. 
 
 " That I did. I knew him when he was an ensign in the 10th 
 Foot; and, to say the truth, he is npt much changed since that 
 time, — the same lively look of a sick codfish about his gray eyes, — 
 the same disorderly wave of his yellow hair, — the same whining 
 voice, and that confounded apothecary's laugh." 
 
 " Come, come, Doctor, Sparks is a good fellow at heart ; I won't, 
 have him abused. I never knew he had been in the infantry ; I 
 should think it must have been another of the same name." 
 
 " Not at all ; there's only one like him in the service, and that's 
 himself. Confound it, man, I'd know his skin upon a bush ; he was 
 only three weeks in the 10th, and, indeed, your humble servant has 
 the whole merit of his leaving it so soon." 
 " Do let us hear how that happened." 
 
 " Simply thus : The jolly 10th were some four years ago the plea- 
 santest corps in the army ; from the lieutenant-colonel down to the 
 last-joined sub., all were out-and-outers — real gay fellows. The 
 mess was, in fact, like a pleasant club, and if you did not suit it, 
 the best thing you could do was to sell out or exchange into a slower 
 regiment ; and, indeed, this very wholesome truth was not very long 
 in reaching your ears some way or other, and a man that could re- 
 main after being given this hint, was likely to go afterwards with- 
 out one." 
 
 Just as Doctor Quill reached this part of his story, an orderly 
 dragoon galloped furiously past, and the next moment an aide-de- 
 camp rode by, calling, as he passed us, — 
 
 "Close up, there — close up! Get forward, my lads — get for- 
 ward !" • 
 
 It was evident, from the stir and bustle about, that some move- 
 ment was being made ; and soon after a dropping, irregular fire from 
 the rear showed that our cavalry were engaged with the enemy. The 
 affair was scarcely of five minutes' duration, and our march resumed 
 all its former regularity immediately after. 
 
 I now turned to the Doctor to resume his story, but he was gone ; 
 at what moment he left I could not say. O'Shaughnessy was also 
 absent, nor did I again meet with them for a considerable time 
 after. 
 
 Towards daybreak we halted at Bonares, when, my wound de- 
 manding rest and attention, I was billeted in the village, and con- 
 signed to all the miseries of a sick-bed. 
 
430 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE JOURNEY. 
 
 WITH that disastrous day my campaigning was destined, for 
 some time at least, to conclude. My wound, which grew 
 from hour to hour more threatening, at length began to 
 menace the loss of the arm, and, by the recommendation of the 
 regimental surgeons, I was ordered back to Lisbon. 
 
 Mike, by this time perfectly restored, prepared everything for my 
 departure, and on the third day after the battle of the Coa, I began 
 my journey with downcast spirits and depressed heart. The poor 
 fellow was, however, a kind and affectionate nurse, and, unlike 
 many others, his cares were not limited to the mere bodily wants of 
 his patient. He sustained, as well as he was able, my drooping 
 resolution, rallied my spirits, and cheered my courage. With the 
 very little Portuguese he possessed, he contrived to make every 
 imaginable species of bargain, always managed a good billet, kept 
 every one in good humor, and rarely left his quarters in the morn- 
 ing without a most affecting leave-taking, and reiterated promises 
 to renew his visit. 
 
 Our journeys were usually short ones, and already two days had 
 elapsed, when, towards nightfall, we entered the little hamlet of 
 Jaffra. During the entire of that day, the pain of my wounded 
 limb had been excruciating ; the fatigue of the road and the heat 
 had brought back violent inflammation, and when at last the little 
 village came in sight, my reason was fast yielding to the torturing 
 agonies of my wound. But the transports with which I greeted my 
 resting-place were soon destined to a change, for as we drew near, 
 not a light was to be seen, not a sound to be heard, not even a dog 
 barked, as the heavy mule-cart rattled over the uneven road. No 
 trace of any living thing was there. The little hamlet lay sleeping 
 in the pale moonlight, its streets deserted and its homes tenantless ; 
 our own footsteps alone echoed along the dreary causeway. Here 
 and there, as we advanced farther, we found some relics of broken 
 furniture and house-gear ; most of the doors lay open, but nothing 
 remained within save bare walls ; the embers still smoked in many 
 places upon the hearth, and showed us that the flight of the inhabi- 
 tants had been recent. Yet everything convinced us that the 
 French had not been there; there was no trace of the reckless 
 violence and wanton cruelty which marked their footsteps every- 
 where. 
 
 All proved that the desertion had been voluntary — perhaps in 
 compliance with an order of our Commander-in-Chief, who fre- 
 
THE JOURNEY. 431 
 
 quently desired any intended line of march of the enemy to be thus 
 left a desert. As we sauntered slowly on from stfeet to street, half- 
 hoping that some one human being yet remained behind, and cast- 
 ing our eyes from side to side in search of quarters for the night, 
 Mike suddenly came running up, saying, — 
 
 " I have it, sir, — I've found it out. There's people living down 
 that small street there ; I saw a light this minute as I passed." 
 
 I turned immediately, and, accompanied by the mule-driver, fol- 
 lowed Mike across a little open square into a small and narrow 
 street, at the end of which a light was seen faintly twinkling. We 
 hurried on, and in a few minutes reached a high wall of solid 
 masonry, from a niche of which we now discovered, to our utter 
 disappointment, the light proceeded. It was a small lamp placed 
 before a little waxen image of the Virgin, and was probably the last 
 act of piety of some poor villager ere he left his home and hearth 
 forever. There it burned, brightly and tranquilly, throwing its 
 mellow ray upon the cold, deserted stones. 
 
 Whatever impatience I might have given way to in a moment of 
 chagrin was soon repressed, as I saw my two followers, uncovering 
 their heads in silent reverence, kneel down before the little shrine. 
 There was something at once touching and solemn in this simulta- 
 neous feeling of homage from the hearts of those removed in country, 
 language, and in blood ; they bent meekly down, their heads bowed 
 upon their bosoms, while with muttering voices each offered up his 
 prayer. All sense of their disappointment, all memory of their 
 forlorn state, seemed to have yielded to more powerful and absorb- 
 ing thoughts as they opened their hearts in prayer. 
 
 My eyes were still fixed upon them, when suddenly Mike, whose 
 devotion seemed to be briefest, sprang to his legs, and with a spirit 
 of levity but little in accordance with his late proceedings, com- 
 menced a series of kicking, rapping, and knocking at a small oak 
 postern sufficient to have aroused a whole convent from their cells. 
 " House there ! — good people within !" — bang, bang, bang ; but the 
 echoes alone responded to his call, and the sounds died away at 
 length in the distant streets, leaving all as silent and dreary as 
 before. 
 
 Our Portuguese friend, who by this time had finished his orisons, 
 now began a vigorous attack upon the small door, and, with the 
 assistance of Mike, armed with a fragment of granite about the size 
 of a man's head, at length separated the frame from the hinges and 
 sent the whole mass prostrate before us. 
 
 The moon was just rising as we entered the little park, where 
 gravelled walks, neatly kept and well trimmed, bespoke recent care 
 and attention ; following a handsome alley of lime trees, we reached 
 
432 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 a little jet d'eau, whose sparkling fountain shone, diamond-like, irt 
 the moonbeams ; and, escaping from the edge of a vast shell, ran 
 murmuring amid mossy stones and water lilies, that however natur- 
 ally they seemed thrown around, bespoke also the hand of taste in 
 their position. On turning from the spot, we came directly in front 
 of an old but handsome chateau, before which stretched a terrace of 
 considerable extent. Its balustraded parapet, lined with orange- 
 trees, now in full blossom, scented the still air with their delicious 
 odor ; marble statues peeped here and there amid the foliage, while a 
 rich acacia, loaded with flowers, covered the walls of the building, and 
 hung in vast masses of variegated blossom across the tall windows. 
 
 As, leaning on Mike's arm, I slowly ascended the steps of the 
 terrace, I was more than ever struck with the silence and death-like 
 stillness around ; except the gentle plash of the fountain, all was at 
 rest ; the very plants seemed to sleep in the yellow moonlight, and 
 not a trace of any living thing was there. 
 
 The massive door lay open as we entered the spacious hall, flagged 
 with marble, and surrounded with armorial bearings. We advanced 
 farther, and came to a broad and handsome stair, which led us to a 
 long gallery, from which a suite of rooms opened, looking towards 
 the front part of the building. Wherever we went, the furniture 
 appeared perfectly untouched ; nothing was removed ; the very chairs 
 were grouped around the windows and the tables ; books, as if they 
 suddenly dropped from their readers' hands, were scattered upon the 
 sofas and the ottomans ; and in one small apartment, whose blue 
 satin walls and damask drapery bespoke a boudoir, a rich mantilla 
 of black velvet and a silk glove were thrown upon a chair. It was 
 clear the desertion had been most recent ; and everything indicated 
 that no time had been given to the fugitives to prepare for flight. 
 What a sad picture of war was there 1 To think of those whose 
 home, endeared to them by all the refinements of cultivated life, 
 and all the associations of years of happiness, sent out upon the wide 
 world — wanderers and houseless ; while their hearth, sacred by every 
 tie that binds us to our kindred, was to be desecrated by the ruth- 
 less and savage hands of a ruffian soldiery. I thought of them. 
 Perhaps at that very hour their thoughts were clinging round the 
 old walls; remembering each well-beloved spot, while they took 
 their lonely path through mountain and through valley ; and I felt 
 ashamed and abashed at my own intrusion there. While thus my 
 reverie ran on, I had not perceived that Mike, whose views were 
 very practical upon all occasions, had lighted a most cheerful fire 
 upon the hearth, and disposing a large sofa before it, had carefully 
 closed the curtains, and was, in fact, making himself and his master 
 as much at home as though he had spent his life there. 
 
THE JOURNEY. 433 
 
 "Isn't it a beautiful place, Misther Charles? and this little 
 room, doesn't it remind you of the blue bedroom in O'Malley Cas- 
 tle, barrin' the illigant view out upon the Shannon and the moun- 
 tain of Scariff?" 
 
 Nothing short of Mike's patriotism could forgive such a compar- 
 ison ; but, however, I did not contradict him, as he ran on : 
 
 " Faith, I knew well there was luck in store for us this evening ; 
 and ye see the handful of prayers I threw away outside wasn't lost. 
 Jose's making the beasts comfortable in the stable, and I'm thinking 
 we'll none of us complain of our quarters. But you're not eating 
 your supper ; and the beautiful hare pie that I stole this morning, 
 won't you taste it ? Well, a glass of Malaga ? — not a glass of Malaga? 
 Oh, mother of Moses ! what's this for ?" 
 
 Unfortunately, the fever produced by the long and toilsome jour- 
 ney had gained considerably on me, and except copious libations of 
 cold water, I could touch nothing ; my arm, too, was much more 
 painful than before. Mike soon perceived that rest and quietness 
 were most important to me at the moment, and having with diffi- 
 culty been prevailed upon to swallow a few hurried mouthfuls, the 
 poor fellow disposed cushions around me in every imaginable form 
 for comfort ; and then, placing my wounded limb in its easiest 
 position, he extinguished the lamp, and sat silently down beside the 
 hearth, without speaking another word. 
 
 Fatigue and exhaustion, more powerful than pain, soon produced 
 their effects upon me, and I fell asleep, but it was no refreshing 
 slumber which visited my heavy eyelids ; the slow fever of suffer- 
 ing had been hour by hour increasing, and my dreams presented 
 nothing but scenes of agony and torture. Now I thought that, un- 
 horsed and wounded, I was trampled beneath the clanging hoofs of 
 charging cavalry ; now, I felt the sharp steel piercing my flesh, and 
 heard the loud cry of a victorious enemy ; then methought I was 
 stretched upon a litter, covered by gore and mangled by a grape- 
 shot. I thought I saw my brother officers approach and look sadly 
 upon me, while one, whose face I could not remember, muttered, 
 " I should not have known him." The dreadful hospital of Tala- 
 vera, and all its scenes of agony, came up before me, and I thought 
 that I lay waiting my turn for amputation. This last impression, 
 more horrible to me than all the rest, made me spring from my 
 couch, and I awoke ; the cold drops of perspiration stood upon my 
 brow, my mouth was parched and open, and my temples throbbed 
 so, that I could count their beatings; for some seconds I could not 
 throw off the frightful illusion I labored under, and it was only by 
 degrees I recovered consciousness, and remembered where I was. 
 Before me, and on one side of the bright wood fire, sat Mike, who, 
 28 
 
434 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 apparently deep in thought, gazed fixedly at the blaze ; the start I 
 gave on awaking had not attracted his attention, and I could see, as 
 the flickering glare fell upon his features, that he was pale and 
 ghastly, while his eyes were riveted upon the fire ; his lips moved 
 rapidly, as if in prayer, and his locked hands were pressed firmly 
 upon his bosom ; his voice, at first inaudible, I could gradually dis- 
 tinguish, and at length heard the following muttered sentences : 
 
 " Oh, mother of mercy ! so far from his home and his people, and 
 so young, to die in a strange land — there it is again," Here he ap- 
 peared listening to some sounds without. " Oh, wirra, wirra, I know 
 it well ! — the winding-sheet, the winding-sheet ! there it is, my own 
 eyes saw it I" The tears coursed fast down his pale cheeks, and his 
 voice grew almost inaudible, as, rocking to and fro, for some time he 
 seemed in a very stupor of grief; when at last, in a faint, subdued 
 tone, he broke into one of those sad and plaintive airs of his coun- 
 try, which only need the moment of depression to make them wring 
 the very heart in agony. 
 
 His song was that to which Moore has appended the beautiful 
 lines, " Come, rest on this bosom." The following imperfect trans- 
 lation may serve to convey some impression of the words, which in 
 Mike's version were Irish : 
 
 " The day was declining, 
 
 The dark night drew near, 
 And the old lord grew sadder, 
 
 And paler with fear : 
 
 ' Come listen, my daughter, 
 
 Come nearer — oh ! near. 
 
 Is't the wind or the water 
 
 That sighs in my ear ?' 
 
 " Not the wind nor the water 
 
 Now stirr'd the night air ; 
 But a warning far sadder — 
 
 The banshee was there! 
 Now rising, now swelling, 
 
 On the night wind it bore, 
 One cadence, still telling, — 
 
 ' I want thee, Rossmore !' 
 
 " And then fast came his breath, 
 
 And more fix'd grew his eye ; 
 And the shadow of death 
 
 Told his last hour was nigh. 
 Ere the dawn of that morning 
 
 The struggle was o'er, 
 For when thrice came the warning, 
 
 A corpse was Rossmore !" 
 
 The plaintive air to which these words were sung fell heavily 
 upon my heart, and it needed but the low and nervous condition I 
 
THE JO UENE Y. 435 
 
 was in to make me feel their application to myself. But so it is ; 
 the very superstition your reason rejects and your sense spurns has, 
 from old association, from habit, and from mere nationality too, a 
 hold upon your hopes and fears, that demands more firmness and 
 courage than a sick-bed possesses to combat with success; and I now 
 listened with an eager ear to mark if the banshee cried, rather than 
 sought to fortify myself by any recurrence to my own convictions. 
 Meanwhile, Mike's attitude became one of listening attention. Not a 
 finger moved ; he scarce seemed even to breathe ; the state of suspense 
 I suffered from was maddening ; and at last, unable to bear it longer, 
 I was about to speak, when suddenly, from the floor beneath us, one 
 long-sustained note swelled upon the air and died away again, and 
 immediately after, to the cheerful sounds of a guitar, we heard the 
 husky voice of our Portuguese guide, indulging himself in a love- 
 ditty. 
 
 Ashamed of myself for my fears, I kept silent ; but Mike, who felt 
 only one sensation — that of unmixed satisfaction at his mistake — 
 rubbed his hands pleasantly, filled up his glass, drank it, and refilled ; 
 while with an accent of reassured courage he briefly remarked : 
 
 " Well, Mr. Jose, if that be singing, upon my conscience I wonder 
 what crying is like !" 
 
 I could not forbear a laugh at the criticism, and in a moment the 
 poor fellow, who up to that moment believed me sleeping, was be- 
 side me. I saw from his manner that he dreaded lest I had been 
 listening to his melancholy song, and had overheard any of his 
 gloomy forebodings; and as he cheered my spirits and spoke encour- 
 agingly, I could remark that he had made more than usual endeavors 
 to appear light-hearted and at ease. Determined, however, not to 
 let him escape so easily, I questioned him about his belief in ghosts 
 and spirits, at which he endeavored, as he ever did when the subject 
 was an unpleasant one, to avoid the discussion; but rather perceiv- 
 ing that I indulged in no irreverent disrespect of these matters, he 
 grew gradually more open, treating the affair with that strange mix- 
 ture of credulity and mockery which formed his estimate of most 
 things — now seeming to suppose that any palpable rejection of them 
 might entail sad consequences in future, now half ashamed to go the 
 whole length in his credulity. 
 
 " And so, Mike, you never saw a ghost yourself? — that you ac- 
 knowledge ?" 
 
 " No, sir, I never saw a real ghost: but sure there's many a thing 
 I never saw ; but Mrs. Moore, the housekeeper, seen two. And your 
 grandfather that's gone — the Lord be good to him ! — used to walk 
 once a year in Lurra Abbey ; and sure you know the story about 
 Tim Clinchy, that was seen every Saturday night coming out of the 
 
436 , CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 cellar with a candle and a mug of wine, and a pipe in his mouth, till 
 Mr. Barry laid him. It cost his honor your uncle ten pounds in 
 masses to make him easy, not to speak of a new lock and two bolts 
 on the cellar door." 
 
 " I have heard all about that; but as you never yourself saw any 
 of these things " 
 
 " But sure my father did, and that's the same, any day. My father 
 seen the greatest ghost that ever was seen in the county Cork, and 
 spent the evening with him, that's more." 
 
 " Spent the evening with him ! — what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Just that, devil a more nor less. If your honor wasn't so weak, 
 and the story wasn't a trying one, I'd like to tell it to you." 
 
 " Out with it, by all means, Mike ; I am not disposed to sleep ; and 
 now that we are upon these matters, my curiosity is strongly excited 
 by your worthy father's experience." 
 
 Thus encouraged, having trimmed the fire, and re-seated himself 
 beside the blaze, Mike began ; but as a ghost is no every-day person- 
 age in our history, I must give him a chapter to himself. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 WELL, I believe your honor heard me tell long ago how my 
 father left the army, and the way that he took to another 
 line of life that was more to his liking. And so it was, he 
 was happy as the day was long ; he drove a hearse for Mr. Callaghan 
 of Cork, for many years, and a pleasant place it was ; for, ye see, my 
 father was a 'cute man, and knew something of the world ; and 
 though he was a droll devil, and could sing a funny song when he 
 was among the boys, no sooner had he the big black cloak on him 
 and the weepers, and he seated on the high box with the six long- 
 tailed blacks before him, you'd really think it was his own mother 
 was inside, he looked so melancholy and miserable. The sexton 
 and gravedigger was nothing to my father; and he had a look about 
 his eye — to be sure there was a reason for it — that you'd think he 
 was up all night crying ; though it's little indulgence he took that 
 way. 
 
 " Well, of all Mr. Callaghan's men, there was none so great a 
 favorite as my father. The neighbors were all fond of him. 
 
 " ' A kind crayture, every inch of him !' the women would say. 
 'Did ye see his face at Mrs. Delany's funeral?' 
 
THE GHOST. 437 
 
 " ' True for you/ another would remark ; ' he mistook the road 
 with grief, and stopped at a shebeen house instead of Kilmurry 
 church.' 
 
 " I need say no more, only one thing : that it was principally 
 among the farmers and the country people my father was liked so 
 much. The great people and the quality — I ax your pardon ; but 
 sure isn't it true, Misther Charles ? — they don't fret so much after 
 their fathers and brothers, and they care little who's driving them, 
 whether it was a decent, respectable man like my father, or a chap 
 with a grin on him like a rat-trap. And so it happened that my 
 father used to travel half the county, going here and there wherever 
 there was trade stirring; and, faix, a man didn't think himself 
 rightly buried if my father wasn't there ; for, ye see, he knew all 
 about it ; he could tell to a quart of spirits what would be wanting 
 for a wake ; he knew all the good criers for miles round ; and I've 
 heard it was a beautiful sight to see him standing on a hill, arrang- 
 ing the procession, as they walked into the churchyard, and giving 
 the word like a captain. 
 
 "'Come on, the stifF— now the friends of the stiff— now the 
 pop'lace.' 
 
 " That's what he used to say, and troth he was always repeating it 
 when he was a little gone in drink — for that's the time his spirits 
 would rise — and he'd think he was burying half Munster. 
 
 "And sure it was a rale pleasure and a pride to be buried in them 
 times ; for av it was only a small farmer with a potato garden, my 
 father would come down with the black cloak on him, and three 
 yards of crape behind his hat, and set all the children crying and 
 yelling for half a mile round ; and then the way he'd walk before 
 them with a spade on his shoulder, and sticking it down in the 
 ground, clap his hat on the top of it, to make it look like a chief 
 mourner. It was a beautiful sight !" 
 
 " But, Mike, if you indulge much longer in this flattering recol- 
 lection of your father, I'm afraid we shall lose sight of the ghost en- 
 tirely." 
 
 " No fear in life, your honor ; I'm coming to him now. Well, 
 it was this way it happened : In the winter of the great frost, about 
 forty -two or forty -three years ago, the ould priest of Tulloughmur- 
 ray took ill and died ; he was sixty years priest of the parish, and 
 mightily beloved by all the people ; and good reason for it — a plea- 
 santer man, and a more social crayture, never lived. 'Twas himself 
 was the life of the whole country-side. A wedding or a christening 
 wasn't lucky av he wasn't there, sitting at the top of the table, with 
 maybe his arm round the bride herself, or the baby on his lap, a 
 smoking jug of punch before him, and as much kindness in his eye 
 
438 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 as would make the fortunes of twenty hypocrites if they had it 
 among them. And then he was so good to the poor; the Priory was 
 always full of ould men and ould women sitting around the big fire 
 in the kitchen, that the cook could hardly get near it. There they 
 were, eating their meals and burning their shins, till they were 
 speckled like a trout's back, and grumbling all the time; but 
 Father Dwyer liked them, and he would have them. 
 
 " ' Where have they to go,' he'd say, ' av it wasn't to me? Give 
 Molly Kinshela a lock of that bacon. Tim, it's a could morning ; 
 will ye have a taste of the dew V 
 
 " Ah ! that's the way he'd spake to them ; but sure goodness is no 
 warrant for living any more than devilment, and so he got could in 
 his feet at a station, and he rode home in the heavy snow without 
 his big coat — for he gave it away to a blind man on the road. In 
 three days he was dead. 
 
 "I see you're getting impatient, so I'll not stop to say what 
 grief was in the parish when it was known ; but, troth, there never 
 was seen the like before — not a crayture would lift a spade for two 
 days, and there was more whisky sold in that time than at the old 
 spring fair. Well, on the third day the funeral set out, and never 
 was the equal of it in them parts. First, there was my father — he 
 came special from Cork with the six horses all in new black, and 
 plumes like little poplar trees ; then came Father Dwyer, followed 
 by the two coadjutors in beautiful surplices, walking bare-headed, 
 with the little boys of the Priory school, two and two." 
 
 " Well, Mike, I'm sure it was very fine ; but, for Heaven's sake, 
 spare me all these descriptions,. and get on to the ghost." 
 
 " 'Faith, your honor's in a great hurry for the ghost — maybe ye 
 won't like him when ye have him ; but I'll go faster, av you plase. 
 Well, Father Dwyer, ye see, was born at Aghan-lish, of an ould 
 family, and he left it in his will that he was to be buried in the 
 family vault ; and as Aghan-lish was eighteen miles up the moun- 
 tains, it was getting late when they drew near. By that time the 
 great procession was all broke up and gone home. The coadjutors 
 stopped to dine at the ' Blue Bellows,' at the cross-roads. The little 
 boys took to pelting snowballs, there was a fight or two on the way 
 besides, and, in fact, except an ould deaf fellow that my father took 
 to mind the horses, he was quite alone. Not that he minded that 
 same; for when the crowd was gone, my father began to sing a droll 
 song, and tould the deaf chap that it was a lamentation. At last 
 they came in sight of Aghan-lish. It was a lonesome, melancholy- 
 looking place, with nothing near it except two or three ould fir- 
 trees, and a small slated house with one window, where the sexton 
 lived, and even that was shut up, and had a padlock on the door. 
 
THE GHOST. 439 
 
 Well, my father was not over-much pleased with the look of mat- 
 ters, but as he was never hard put to what to do, he managed to get 
 the coffin into the vestry; and then, when he unharnessed the 
 horses, he sent the deaf fellow with them down to the village, to 
 tell the priest that the corpse was there, and to come up early in the 
 morning and perform mass. The next thing to do was to make him- 
 self comfortable for the night ; and then he made a roaring fire on 
 the ould hearth, — for there was plenty of bog-fir there, — closed the 
 windows with the black cloaks, and, wrapping two round himself, he 
 sat down to cook a little supper he brought with him in case of need. 
 
 "Well, you may think it was melancholy enough to pass the 
 night up there alone, with a corpse in an old ruined church in the 
 middle of the mountains, the wind howling about on every side and 
 the snowdrift beating against the walls ; but as the fire burned 
 brightly, and the little plate of rashers and eggs smoked temptingly 
 before him, my father mixed a jug of the strongest punch, and sat 
 down as happy as a king. As long as he was eating away, he had 
 no time to be thinking of anything else ; but when all was done, and 
 he looked about him, he began to feel very low and melancholy in 
 his heart. There was the great black coffin on three chairs in one 
 corner ; and then the mourning cloaks that he had stuck up against 
 the windows moved backward and forward like living things ; and, 
 outside, the wild cry of the plover as he flew past, and the night- 
 owl sitting in a nook of the old church. ' I wish it was morning, 
 anyhow,' said my father, ' for this is a lonesome place to be in ; and, 
 faix, he'll be a cunning fellow that catches me passing the night 
 this way again.' Now, there was one thing distressed him most 
 of all, — my father used always to make fun of the ghosts and 
 sperits the neighbors would tell of, pretending there was no such 
 thing ; and now the thought came to him, ' Maybe they'll revenge 
 themselves on me to-night when they have me up here alone ;' and 
 with that he made a jug stronger than the first, and tried to remem- 
 ber a few prayers in case of need, but somehow his mind was not 
 too clear, and he said afterwards he was always mixing up ould 
 songs and toasts with the prayers, and when he thought he had just 
 got hold of a beautiful psalm, it would turn out to be ' Tatter Jack 
 Welsh,' or ' Limping James,' or something like that. The storm, 
 meanwhile, was rising every moment, and parts of the old abbey 
 were falling, as the wind shook the ruin, and my father's spirits, 
 notwithstanding the punch, were lower than ever. 
 
 " ' I made it too weak,' said he, as he set to work on a new jorum; 
 and, troth, this time that was not the fault of it, for the first sup 
 nearly choked him. 
 
 " 'Ah !' said he now, ' I knew what it was ; this is like the thing ; 
 
440 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 and, Mr. Free, you are beginning to feel easy and comfortable. Pass 
 the jug. Your very good health and song. I'm a little hoarse, it's 
 true, but if the company will excuse ' 
 
 "And then he began knocking on the table with his knuckles as 
 if there was a room full of people asking him to sing. In short, my 
 father was drunk as a fiddler ; the last brew finished him ; and he 
 began roaring away all kinds of droll songs, and telling all manner 
 of stories, as if he was at a great party. 
 
 " While he was capering this way about the room, he knocked 
 down his hat, and with it a pack of cards he put into it before leav- 
 ing home, for he was mighty fond of a game. 
 
 " ' Will ye take a hand, Mr. Free ?' said he, as he gathered them 
 up and sat down beside the fire. 
 
 " ' I'm convanient,' said he, and began dealing out as if there was 
 a partner forninst him. 
 
 "When my father used to get this far in the story, he became very 
 confused. He says that once or twice he mistook the liquor, and 
 took a pull at the bottle of potteen instead of the punch ; and the 
 last thing he remembers was asking poor Father Dwyer if he would 
 draw near to the fire, and not be lying there near the door. 
 
 " With that he slipped down on the ground and fell fast asleep. 
 How long he lay that way he could never tell. When he awoke 
 and looked up, his hair nearly stood on an end with fright. What 
 do you think he seen forninst him, sitting at the other side of the 
 fire, but Father Dwyer himself. There he was, divil a lie in it, 
 wrapped up in one of the mourning cloaks, trying to warm his hands 
 at the fire. 
 
 " 'Salve hoc nomine patriP said my father, crossing himself; ' av it's 
 your ghost, God presarve me !' 
 
 " ' Good evening t'ye, Mr. Free,' said the ghost; 'and av I might 
 be bould, what's in the jug V — for ye see my father had it under his 
 arm fast, and never let it go when he was asleep. 
 
 " 'Pater nosier qui es in — potteen, sir,' said my father ; for the ghost 
 didn't look pleased at his talking Latin. 
 
 " ' Ye might have had the politeness to ax if one had a mouth on 
 him, then,' says the ghost. 
 
 " ' Sure, I didn't think the like of you would taste sperits.' 
 
 " ' Try me,' says the ghost ; and with that he filled out a glass and 
 tossed it off like a Christian. 
 
 " ' Beamish !' says the ghost, smacking his lips. 
 
 " 'The same,' says my father; 'and sure what's happened you has 
 not spoiled your taste.' 
 
 " ' If you'd mix a little hot,' says the ghost, ' I'm thinking it would 
 be better •; the night is mighty sevare.' 
 
THE GHOST. 441 
 
 • "'Anything that your reverance plases,' says my father; as he 
 began to blow up a good fire to boil the water. 
 
 " 'And what news is stirring ?' says the ghost. 
 
 " ' Devil a word, your reverance : your own funeral was the only 
 thing doing last week ; times is bad ; except the measles, there's 
 nothing in our parts.' 
 
 " 'And we're quite dead hereabouts, too,' says the ghost. 
 
 " ' There's some of us so, anyhow,' says my father, with a sly look. 
 ' Taste that, your reverance.' 
 
 " ' Pleasant and refreshing,' says the ghost. 'And now, Mr. Free, 
 what do you say to a little spoilt five, or beggar my neighbor ?' 
 
 "'What will we play for?' says my father; for a thought just 
 struck him — ' maybe it's some trick of the devil to catch my soul.' 
 
 " 'A pint of Beamish,' says the ghost. 
 
 " ' Done !' says my father ; \ cut for deal ; the ace of clubs ; you 
 have it.' 
 
 " Now, the whole time the ghost was dealing the cards my father 
 never took his eyes off of him, for he wasn't quite asy in his mind 
 at all ; but when he saw him turn up the trump, and take a strong 
 drink afterwards, he got more at ease, and began the game. 
 
 " How long they played it was never rightly known ; but one 
 thing is sure, they drank a cruel deal of sperits ; three quart bot- 
 tles my father brought with him were all finished, and by that time 
 his brain was so confused with the liquor, and all he lost — for 
 somehow he never won a game — that he was getting very quarrel- 
 some. 
 
 " • You have your own luck to it,' says he, at last. 
 
 " ' True for you ; and, besides, we play a great deal where I come 
 from.' 
 
 " ' I've heard so,' says my father. ' I lead the knave, sir; spades! 
 Bad cess to it, lost again !' 
 
 "Now it was really very distressing; for by this time, though 
 they only began for a pint of Beamish, my father went on betting 
 till he lost the hearse and all the six horses, mourning cloaks, 
 plumes, and everything. 
 
 " ' Are you tired, Mr. Free? Maybe you'd like to stop?' 
 
 " ' Stop ! faith it's a nice time to stop ; of course not.' 
 
 " ' Well, what will ye play for now V 
 
 " The way he said these words brought a trembling all over my 
 father, and his blood curdled in his heart. ' Oh, murther !' says he 
 to himself, ' it's my sowl he is wanting all the time.' 
 
 " ■ I've mighty little left/ says my father, looking at him keenly, 
 while he kept shuffling the cards quick as lightning. 
 
 " ' Mighty little ; no matter, we'll give you plenty of time to pay ; 
 
442 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 and if you can't do it, it shall never trouble you as long as you 
 live.' 
 
 " ' Oh, you murthering devil !' says my father, flying at him with 
 a spade that he had behind his chair, f I've found you out.' 
 
 " With one blow he knocked him down ; and now a terrible fight 
 began, for the ghost was very strong too ; but my father's blood was 
 up, and he'd have faced the devil himself then. They rolled over 
 each other several times, the broken bottles cutting them to pieces, 
 and the chairs and tables crashing under them. At last the ghost 
 took the bottle that lay on the hearth, and levelled my father to 
 the ground with one blow. Down he fell, and the bottle and the 
 whisky were both dashed into the fire ; that was the end of it, for 
 the ghost disappeared that moment in a blue flame that nearly set 
 fire to my father as he lay on the floor. 
 
 " Och ! it was a cruel sight to see him next morning, with his 
 cheek cut open and his hands all bloody, lying there by himself; 
 all the broken glass, and the cards all round him ; the coffin, too, 
 was knocked down off the chair : maybe the ghost had trouble get- 
 ting into it. However that was, the funeral was put off for a day; 
 for my father couldn't speak ; and as for the sexton, it was a queer 
 thing, but when they came to call him in the morning, he had two 
 black eyes, and a gash over his ear, and he never knew how he got 
 them. It was easy enough to know the ghost did it ; but my father 
 kept the secret, and never told it to any man, woman or child in 
 them parts." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LISBON. 
 
 I HAVE little po>ver to trace the events which occupied the 
 succeeding three weeks of my history. The lingering fever 
 which attended my wound detained me during that time at the 
 chateau ; and when at last I did leave for Lisbon, the winter was 
 already beginning, and it was upon a cold raw evening that I once 
 more took possession of my old quarters at the Quay de Soderi. 
 
 My eagerness and anxiety to learn something of the campaign 
 was ever uppermost, and no sooner had I reached my destination 
 than I despatched Mike to the Quartermaster's office to pick up some 
 news, and hear which of my friends and brother officers were then 
 at Lisbon. I was sitting in a state of nervous impatience watching 
 for his return, when at length I heard footsteps approaching my 
 
LISBON. 443 
 
 room, and the next moment Mike's voice, saying, " The ould room, 
 sir, where he was before." The door suddenly opened, and my friend 
 Power stood before me. 
 
 " Charley, my boy !" — " Fred, my fine fellow !" was all either 
 could say for some minutes. Upon my part, the recollection of his 
 bold and manly bearing in my behalf choked all utterance ; while, 
 upon his, my haggard cheek and worn look produced an effect so 
 sudden and unexpected that he became speechless. 
 
 In a few minutes, however, we both rallied, and opened our store 
 of mutual remembrances since we parted. My career I found he 
 was perfectly familiar with, and his consisted of nothing but one 
 unceasing round of gayety and pleasure. Lisbon had been delight- 
 ful during the summer ; parties to Cintra, excursions through the 
 surrounding country, were of daily occurrence ; and as my friend 
 was a favorite everywhere, his life was one of continued amusement. 
 
 " Do you know, Charley, had it been any other man than your- 
 self, I should not have spared him ; for I have fallen head over ears 
 in love with your little dark-eyed Portuguese." 
 
 " Ah ! Donna Inez, you mean ?" 
 
 " Yes, it is she I mean, and you need not affect such an air of 
 uncommon nonchalance. She's the loveliest girl in Lisbon, and with 
 fortune to pay off all the mortgages in Connemara." 
 
 " Oh, faith I I admire her amazingly ; but, as I never flattered 
 myself upon any preference " 
 
 " Come, come, Charley, no concealment, my old fellow ; every one 
 knows the thing's settled. Your old friend Sir George Dashwood 
 told me yesterday." 
 
 " Yesterday ! Why, is he here — at Lisbon ?" 
 
 " To be sure he is ; didn't I tell you that before ? confound it ! 
 what a head I have! Why, man, he's come out as Deputy 
 Adjutant-General ; but for him I should not have got renewed 
 leave." 
 
 "And Miss Dashwood, is she here ?" 
 
 " Yes, she came with him. By Jove, how handsome she is ! quite 
 a different style of thing from our dark friend, but, to my thinking, 
 even handsomer. Hammersley seems of my opinion, too." 
 
 " How ! is Hammersley at Lisbon?" 
 
 " On the staff here. But, confound it, what makes you so red . 
 you have no ill feeling towards him now. I know he speaks most 
 warmly of you ; no later than last night, at Sir George's " 
 
 What Power was about to add I know not, for I sprang from my 
 chair with a sudden start, and walked to the window to conceal my 
 agitation from him. 
 
 "And so," said I, at length regaining my composure in some 
 
444 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 measure, " Sir George also spoke of my name in connection with 
 the Senhora ?" 
 
 " To be sure he did. All Lisbon does. Why, what can you mean ? 
 But I see, my dear boy ; you know you are not of the strongest ; 
 and we've been talking far too long. Come now, Charley, I'll say 
 good-night. I'll be with you at breakfast to-morrow, and tell you 
 all the gossip ; meanwhile, promise me to get quietly to bed, and so 
 good-night." 
 
 Such was the conflicting state of feeling I suffered from, that I 
 made no effort to detain Power. I longed to be once more alone, to 
 think — calmly, if I could — over the position I stood in, and to re- 
 solve upon my plans for the future. 
 
 My love for Lucy Dash wood had been long rather a devotion than 
 a hope. My earliest dawn of manly ambition was associated with 
 the first hour I met her. She it was who first touched my boyish 
 heart, and suggested a sense of chivalrous ardor within me ; and, 
 even though lost to me forever, I could still regard her as the main- 
 spring of my actions, and dwell upon my passion as the thing that 
 hallowed every enterprise of my life. 
 
 In a word, my love, however little it might reach her heart, was 
 everything to mine. It was the worship of the devotee to his pro- 
 tecting saint. It was the faith that made me rise above every mis- 
 fortune and mishap, and led me onward ; and in this way I could 
 have borne anything, everything, rather than the imputation of 
 fickleness. 
 
 Lucy might not — nay, I felt she did not — love me. It was possible 
 that some other was preferred before me ; but to doubt my own affec- 
 tion, to suspect my own truth, was to destroy all the charm of my 
 existence, and to extinguish within me forever the enthusiasm that 
 made me a hero to my own heart. 
 
 It may seem but poor philosophy, but, alas ! how many of our 
 happiest, how many of our brightest thoughts here are but delusions 
 like this ! This dayspring of youth gilds the tops of the distant 
 mountains before us, and many a weary day through life, when 
 clouds and storms are thickening around us, we live upon the mere 
 memory of the past. Some fast-flitting prospect of a bright future, 
 some passing glimpse of a sunlit valley, tinges all our after-years. 
 
 It is true that he will suffer fewer disappointments, he will incur 
 fewer of the mishaps of the world, who indulges in no fancies such 
 as these ; but equally true is it that he will taste none of that exu- 
 berant happiness which is that man's portion who weaves out a 
 story of his life, and who, in connecting the promise of early years 
 with the performance of later, will seek to fulfil a fate and destiny. 
 
 Weaving such fancies, I fell sound asleep, nor woke before the 
 
LISBON. 445 
 
 stir and bustle of the great city aroused me. Power, I found, had 
 been twice to my quarters that morning, but, fearing to disturb me, 
 had merely left a few lines to say that, as he should be engaged on 
 service during the day, we could not meet before the evening. There 
 were certain preliminaries requisite regarding my leave which de- 
 manded my appearing before a board of medical officers, and I im- 
 mediately set about dressing, resolving that, as soon as they were 
 completed, I should, if permitted, retire to one of the small cottages 
 on the opposite bank of the Tagus, there to remain until my restored 
 health allowed me to rejoin my regiment. 
 
 I dreaded meeting the Dashwoods. I anticipated with a heavy 
 heart how effectually one passing interview would destroy all my 
 day-dreams of happiness, and I preferred anything to the sad con- 
 viction of hopelessness such a meeting must lead to. 
 
 While I thus balanced with myself how to proceed, a gentle step 
 came to the door, and as it opened slowly, a servant in a dark livery 
 entered. 
 
 "Mr. O'Malley, sir?" 
 
 " Yes," said I, wondering to whom my arrival could be thus early 
 known. 
 
 " Sir George Dashwood requests you will step over to him as soon 
 as you go out," continued the man ; " he is so engaged that he can- 
 not leave home, but is most desirous to see you." 
 
 " It is not far from here ?" 
 
 " No, sir ; scarcely five minutes' walk." 
 
 "Well, then, if you will show me the way, I'll follow you." 
 
 I cast one passing glance at myself to see that all was right about 
 my costume, and sallied forth. 
 
 In the middle of the Black Horse-square, at the door of a large 
 stone-fronted building, a group of military men were assembled, 
 chatting and laughing away together ; some were reading the lately- 
 arrived English papers ; others were lounging upon the stone para- 
 pet, carelessly puffing their cigars. None of the faces were known 
 to me ; so threading my way through the crowd, I reached the steps. 
 Just as I did so, a half-muttered whisper met my ear : 
 
 " Who did you say ?" 
 
 " O'Malley, the young Irishman who behaved so gallantly at the 
 Douro." 
 
 The blood rushed hotly to my cheek ; my heart bounded with ex- 
 ultation ; my step, infirm and tottering but a moment before, became 
 fixed and steady, and 1 felt a thrill of proud enthusiasm playing 
 through my veins. How little did the speaker of those few and ran- 
 dom words know what courage he had given to a drooping heart, 
 what renewed energy to a breaking spirit ! The voice of praise, too, 
 
446 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 coming from those to whom we had thought ourselves unknown, has 
 a magic about it that must be felt to be understood. So it happened 
 that in a few seconds a revolution had taken place in all my thoughts 
 and feelings, and I, who had left my quarters dispirited and de- 
 pressed, now walked confidently and proudly forward. 
 
 " Mr. O'Malley," said the servant to the officer in waiting, as we 
 entered the ante-chamber. 
 
 "Ah I Mr. O'Malley," said the aide-de-camp, in blandest accent, 
 "I hope you're better. Sir George is most anxious to see you ; he 
 is at present engaged with the staff " 
 
 A bell rang at the moment, and cut short the sentence : he flew 
 to the door of the inner room, and, returning in an instant, said, — 
 
 " Will you follow me ? This way, if you please." 
 
 The room was crowded with general officers and aides-de-camp, so 
 that for a second or two I could not distinguish the parties ; but no 
 sooner was my name announced, than Sir George Dashwood, forcing 
 his way through, rushed forward to meet me. 
 
 " O'Malley, my brave fellow! delighted to shake your hand again ! 
 How much grown you are — twice the man I knew you ! and the arm, 
 too, is it getting on well ?" 
 
 Scarcely giving me a moment to reply, and still holding my hand 
 tightly in his grasp, he introduced me on every side. 
 
 " My young Irish friend, Sir Edward, the man of the Douro. My 
 lord, allow me to present Lieutenant O'Malley, of the 14th. " 
 
 " A very dashing thing, that of yours, sir, at Ciudad Rodrigo." 
 
 " A very senseless one, I fear, my lord." 
 
 " No, no, I don't agree with you at all ; even when no great results 
 follow, the morale of an army benefits by acts of daring." 
 
 A running fire of kind and civil speeches poured in on me from 
 all quarters, and, amid all that crowd of bronzed and war-worn 
 veterans, I felt myself the lion of the moment. Craufurd, it appeared, 
 had spoken most handsomely of my name, and I was thus made 
 known to many of those whose own reputations were then extend- 
 ing over Europe. 
 
 In this happy trance of excited pleasure I passed the morning. 
 Amid the military chit-chat of the day around me, treated as an 
 equal by the greatest and the most distinguished, I heard all the 
 confidential opinions upon the campaign and its leaders ; and in 
 that most entrancing of all flatteries — the easy tone of companion- 
 ship of our elders and betters — forgot my griefs, and half believed I 
 was destined for great things. 
 
 Fearing at length that I had prolonged my visit too far, I ap- 
 proached Sir George to take my leave, when, drawing my arm within 
 his, he retired towards one of the windows. 
 
. LISBON. 447 
 
 " A word, O'Malley, before you go. I've arranged a little plan 
 for you ; mind, I shall insist upon obedience. They'll make some 
 difficulty about your remaining here, so that I have appointed you 
 one of our extra aides-de-camp. That will free you from all trouble, 
 and I shall not be very exacting in my demands upon you. You 
 must, however, commence your duties to-day, and as we dine at 
 •seven precisely, I shall expect you. I am aware of your wish to 
 stay in Lisbon, my boy, and, if all I hear be true, congratulate you 
 sincerely ; but more of this another time, and so good-bye." So say- 
 ing, he shook my hand once more, warmly ; and without well feel- 
 ing how or why, I found myself in the street. 
 
 The last few words Sir George had spoken threw a gloom over all 
 my thoughts. I saw at once that the report Power had alluded to 
 had gained currency at Lisbon. Sir George believed it ; doubtless 
 Lucy, too ; and, forgetting in an instant all the emulative ardor that 
 so lately stirred my heart, I took my path beside the river, and saun- 
 tered slowly along, lost in my reflections. 
 
 I had walked for above an hour, before paying any attention to 
 the path I followed. Mechanically, as it were, retreating from the 
 noise and tumult of the city, I wandered towards the country. My 
 thoughts fixed but upon one theme, I had neither ears nor eyes for 
 aught around me ; the great difficulty of my present position now 
 appearing to me in this light — my attachment to Lucy Dashwood, 
 unrequited and un returned as I felt it, did not permit of my rebut- 
 ting any report which might have reached her concerning Donna 
 Inez. I had no right, no claim to suppose her sufficiently interested 
 about me to listen to such an explanation, had I even the opportu- 
 nity to make it. One thing was thus clear to me — all my hopes had 
 ended in that quarter ; and as this conclusion sank into my mind, a 
 species of dogged resolution to brave my fortune crept over me, 
 which only waited the first moment of my meeting her to overthrow 
 and destroy forever. 
 
 Meanwhile I walked on ; now rapidly, at some momentary rush 
 of passionate excitement; now slowly, as some depressing and 
 gloomy notion succeeded ; when suddenly my path was arrested by 
 a long file of bullock cars which blocked up the way. Some chance 
 squabble had arisen among the drivers, and to avoid the crowd and 
 collision, I turned into a gateway which opened beside me, and soon 
 found myself in a lawn handsomely planted, and adorned with 
 flowering shrubs and ornamental trees. 
 
 In the half-dreamy state my musings had brought me to, I strug- 
 gled to recollect why the aspect of the place did not seem altogether 
 new. My thoughts were, however, far away — now blending some 
 memory of my distant home with scenes of battle and bloodshed, or 
 
448 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 resting upon my first interview with her whose chance word, care- 
 lessly and lightly spoken, had written the story of my life. From 
 this reverie I was rudely awakened by a rustling noise in the trees 
 behind me, and before I could turn my head, the two fore paws of 
 a large stag-hound were planted upon my shoulders, while the open 
 mouth and panting tongue were close beside my face. My day- 
 dream was dispelled quick • as lightning ; it was Juan himself, the 
 favorite dog of the Senhora, who gave me this rude welcome, and 
 who now, by a thousand wild gestures and bounding caresses, 
 seemed to do the honors of his house. There was something so like 
 home in these joyful greetings, that I yielded myself at once his 
 prisoner, and followed, or rather was accompanied by him towards 
 the villa. 
 
 Of course, sooner or later, I should have called upon my kind 
 friends, then why not now, when chance had already brought me so 
 near ? Besides, if I held to my resolution, which I meant to do — of 
 retiring to some quiet and sequestered cottage till my health was 
 restored — the opportunity might not readily present itself again. 
 This line of argument perfectly satisfied my reason, while a strong 
 feeling of something like curiosity piqued me to proceed, and before 
 many minutes elapsed I reached the house. The door, as usual, lay 
 wide open, and the ample hall, furnished like a sitting-room, had its 
 customary litter of books, music, and flowers scattered upon the 
 tables. My friend Juan, however, suffered me not to linger here, 
 but rushing furiously at a door before me, began a vigorous attack 
 for admittance. 
 
 As I knew this to be the drawing-room, I opened the door and 
 walked in, but no one was to be seen ; a half-open book lay upon an 
 ottoman, and a fan, which I recognized as an old acquaintance, was 
 beside it, but the owner was absent. 
 
 I sat down, resolved to wait patiently for her coming, without any 
 announcement of my being there. I was not sorry, indeed, to have 
 some moments to collect my thoughts, and restore my erring facul- 
 ties to something like order. 
 
 As I looked about the room, it seemed as if I had been there but 
 yesterday. The folding-doors lay open to the garden, just as I had 
 seen them last, and save that the flowers seemed fewer, and those 
 which remained of a darker and more sombre tint, all seemed un- 
 changed. There lay the guitar, to whose thrilling chords my heart 
 had bounded ; there, the drawing, over which I had bent in admi- 
 ring pleasure, suggesting some tints of light or shadow, as the fairy 
 fingers traced them ; every chair was known to me, and I greeted 
 them as things I cared for. 
 
 While thus I scanned each object around me, I was struck by a 
 
LISBON. 441) 
 
 little china vase, which, unlike its other brethren, contained a bou- 
 quet of dead and faded flowers ; the blood rushed to my cheek ; I 
 started up ; it was one I had myself presented to her the day before 
 we parted. It was in that same vase I placed it ; the very table, too, 
 stood in the same position beside that narrow window. What a rush 
 of thoughts came pouring on me ! And oh ! shall I confess it ? how 
 deeply did such a mute testimony of remembrance speak to my 
 heart, at the moment that I felt myself unloved and uncared for by 
 another ! I walked hurriedly up and down, a maze of conflicting 
 resolves combating in my mind, while one thought ever recurred — 
 " Would that I had not come here !" and yet, after all, it may mean 
 nothing ; some piece of passing coquetry, which she will be the very 
 first to laugh at. I remember how she spoke of poor Howard ; what 
 folly to take it otherwise! "Be it so, then," said I, half aloud; 
 " and now for my part of the game ;" and with this I took from my 
 pocket the light blue scarf she had given me the morning we parted, 
 and, throwing it over my shoulder, prepared to perform my part in 
 what I had fully persuaded myself to be a comedy. The time, how- 
 ever, passed on, and she came not ; a thousand high-flown Portu- 
 guese phrases had time to be conned -over again and again by me, and 
 I had abundant leisure to enact my coming part; but still the curtain 
 did not rise. As the day was wearing, I resolved at last to write a 
 few lines, expressive of my regret at not meeting her, and promising 
 myself an early opportunity of paying my respects under more for- 
 tunate circumstances. I sat down, accordingly, and, drawing the 
 paper towards me, began, in a mixture of French and Portuguese, as 
 it happened, to indite my billet. 
 
 " Senhora Inez" — no — " Ma chere Mademoiselle Inez" — confound 
 it, that's too intimate; well, here goes — "Monsieur O'Malley pre- 
 sente ses respects" — that will never do ; and then, after twenty other 
 abortive attempts, I began thoughtlessly sketching heads upon the 
 paper, and scribbling with wonderful facility in fifty different ways — 
 " Ma charmante amie — Ma plus chere Inez," &c, and in this most 
 useful and profitable occupation did I pass another half hour. 
 
 How long I should have persisted in such an employment it is 
 difficult to say, had not an incident intervened which suddenly but 
 most effectually put an end to it. As the^circumstance is one which, 
 however little striking in itself, had the greatest and most lasting 
 influence upon my future career, I shall perhaps be excused for de- 
 voting another chapter to its recital. 
 
 29 
 
450 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A PLEASANT PREDICAMENT. 
 
 WHILE I sat endeavoring to fix upon some suitable and ap- 
 propriate epithet by which to commence my note, my back 
 was turned towards the door of the garden ; and so occupied 
 was I in my meditations, that even had any one entered at the time, 
 in all probability I should not have perceived it. At length, how- 
 ever, I was aroused from my study by a burst of laughter, whose 
 girlish joyousness was not quite new to me. I knew it well ; it was 
 the Senhora herself; and the next moment I heard her voice. 
 
 " I tell you I'm quite certain I saw his face in the mirror as I 
 passed. Oh, how delightful ! and you'll be charmed with him ; so, 
 mind, you must not steal him from me ; I shall never forgive you if 
 you do ; and look, only look ! he has got the blue scarf I gave him 
 when he marched to the Douro." 
 
 While I perceived that I was myself seen, I could see nothing of 
 the speaker, and, wishing to hear something further, appeared more 
 than ever occupied in the writing before me. 
 
 What her companion replied, I could not, however, catch, but only 
 guess at its import by the Senhora's answer. 
 
 " Fi done /—I really am very fond of him ; but, never fear, I shall 
 be as stately as a queen. You shall see how meekly he will kiss my 
 hand, and with what unbending reserve I'll receive him." 
 
 " Indeed !" thought I ; " mayhap I'll mar your plot a little ; but 
 let us listen." 
 
 " It is so provoking," continued Inez ; " I never can remember 
 names, and his was something too absurd ; but, never mind, I shall 
 make him a grandee of Portugal. Well, but come along, I long to 
 present him to you." 
 
 Here a gentle struggle seemed to ensue ; for I heard the Senhora 
 coaxingly entreat her, while her companion steadily resisted. 
 
 " I know you think I shall be so silly, and perhaps wrong ; is it 
 not so? But you're mistaken. You'll be surprised at my cold and 
 dignified manner. I shall draw myself proudly up, and, curtseying 
 deeply, say, • Monsieur, j'aj l'honneur de vous saluer.' " 
 
 A laugh twioe as mirthful as before followed, while I could hear 
 the tones of the friend evidently in expostulation. 
 
 " Well, then, to be sure, you are provoking, but you really promise 
 to follow me. Be It so ; then give me that moss-rose. How you 
 have fluttered me ; now for it !" 
 
 So saying, I heard her foot upon the gravel, and the next instant 
 upon the marble step of the door. There is something in expecta- 
 
A PLEASANT PREDICAMENT. 451 
 
 tion that sets the heart beating, and mine throbbed against my side. 
 I waited, however, till she entered before lifting my head, and then 
 springing suddenly up, with one bound clasped her in my arms, and 
 pressing my lips upon her roseate cheek, said, — 
 
 11 Ma charmante amie!" To disengage herself from me, and to 
 spring suddenly back, was her first effort ; to burst into an immoderate 
 fit of laughing, her second ; her cheek was, however, covered with a 
 deep blush, and I already repented that my malice had gone so far. 
 
 " Pardon, Mademoiselle," said I, in affected innocence, " if I have 
 so far forgotten myself as to assume a habit of my own country to a 
 stranger." 
 
 A half-angry toss of the head was her only reply, and, turning 
 towards the garden, she called to her friend : — 
 
 " Come here, dearest, and instruct my ignorance upon your na- 
 tional customs ; but first let me present to you — I never knew his 
 name — the Chevalier de What is it ?" 
 
 The glass door opened as she spoke ; a tail and graceful figure 
 entered, and, turning suddenly round, showed me the features of 
 Lucy Dash wood. We both stood opposite each other, each mute 
 with amazement. My feelings let me not attempt to convey; shame, 
 for the first moment stronger than aught else, sent the blood rushing 
 to my face and temples, and the next I was cold and pale as death. 
 As for her, I cannot guess at what passed in her mind. She curt- 
 seyed deeply to me, and with a half-smile of scarce recognition 
 passed by me, and walked towards a window. 
 
 "Comme vous Sies aimableV said the lively Portuguese, who com- 
 prehended little of this dumb show; "here have I been flattering 
 myself what friends you'd be the very moment you met, and now 
 you'll not even look at each other." 
 
 What was to be done? The situation was every instant growing 
 more and more embarrassing; nothing but downright effrontery 
 could get through with it now ; and never did a man's heart more 
 fail him than did mine at this conjuncture. I made the effort, how- 
 ever, and stammered out certain unmeaning commonplaces. Inez 
 replied, and I felt myself conversing with the headlong recklessness 
 of one marching to a scaffold, a coward's fear at his heart, while he 
 essayed to seem careless and indifferent. 
 
 Anxious to reach what I estimated safe ground, I gladly adverted 
 to the campaign ; and at last, hurried on by the impulse to cover 
 my embarrassment, was describing some skirmish with a French 
 outpost. Without intending, I had succeeding in exciting the Sen- 
 hora's interest, and she listened with sparkling eye and parted lips 
 to the description of a sweeping charge in which a square was bro- 
 ken, and several prisoners carried off. Warming with the eager 
 
452 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 avidity of her attention, I grew myself more excited, when just as 
 my narrative reached its climax, Miss Dashwood walked gently 
 towards the bell, rang it, and ordered her carriage. The tone of 
 perfect nonchalance of the whole proceeding struck me dumb. I 
 faltered, stammered, hesitated, and was silent. Donna Inez turned 
 from one to the other of us with a look of unfeigned astonishment, 
 and I heard her mutter to herself something like a reflection upon 
 " national eccentricities." Happily, however, her attention was now 
 exclusively turned towards her friend, and while assisting her to 
 shawl, and extorting innumerable promises of an early visit, I got a 
 momentary reprieve ; the carriage drew up also, and as the gravel 
 flew right and left beneath the horses' feet, the very noise and bustle 
 relieved me. 
 
 "Actios !" then said Inez, as she kissed her for the last time, while 
 she motioned to me to escort her to her carriage. I advanced — 
 stopped — made another step forward, and again grew irresolute; 
 but Miss Dashwood speedily terminated the difficulty ; for, making 
 me a formal curtsey, she declined my scarce-proffered attention, and 
 left the room. 
 
 As she did so, I perceived that, on passing the table, her eyes fell 
 upon the paper I had been scribbling over so long, and I thought 
 that for an instant an expression of ineffable scorn seemed to pass 
 across her features, save which— and perhaps even in this I was 
 mistaken — her manner was perfectly calm, easy, and indifferent. 
 
 Scarce had the carriage rolled from the door, when the Senhora, 
 throwing herself upon a chair, clapped her hands in childish ecstasy, 
 while she fell into a fit of laughing that I thought would never have 
 an end. " Such a scene !" cried she ; " I would not have lost it for 
 the world ; what cordiality ! what empressement to form an acquaint- 
 ance ! I shall never forget it, Monsieur le Chevalier ; your national 
 customs seem to run sadly in extremes. One would have thought 
 you deadly enemies ; and poor me ! after a thousand delightful plans 
 about you both." 
 
 As she ran on thus, scarce able to control her mirth at each sen- 
 tence, I walked the room with impatient strides; now resolving to 
 hasten after the carriage, stop it, explain in a few words how all had 
 happened, and then fly from her forever ; then, the remembrance of 
 her cold, impassive look crossed me, and I thought that one bold 
 leap into the Tagus might be the shortest and easiest solution to all 
 my miseries ; perfect abasement, thorough self-contempt, had bro- 
 ken all my courage, and I could have cried like a child. What I 
 said, or how I comforted myself after, I know not ; but my first con- 
 sciousness came to me as I found myself running at the top of my 
 speed far upon the road towards Lisbon. 
 
THE DINNER. 453 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 IT may be easily imagined that I had little inclination to keep 
 my promise of dining that day with Sir George Dash wood. 
 However, there was nothing else for it; the die was cast— my 
 prospects as regarded Lucy were ruined forever. We were not, we 
 never could be, anything to each other 5 and as for me, the sooner 
 I braved my altered fortunes the better ; and, after all, why should 
 I call them altered ? She evidently never had cared for me ; and 
 even supposing that my fervent declaration of attachment had inter- 
 ested her, the apparent duplicity and falseness of my late conduct 
 could only fall the more heavily upon me. 
 
 I endeavored to philosophize myself into calmness and indiffer- 
 ence. One by one, I exhausted every argument for my defence, 
 which, however ingeniously put forward, brought no comfort to my 
 own conscience. I pleaded the unerring devotion of my heart — the 
 uprightness of my motives — and when called on for the proofs — 
 alas ! except the blue scarf I wore in memory of another, and my 
 absurd conduct at the villa, I had none. From the current gossip 
 of Lisbon, down to my own disgraceful folly, all — all was against 
 me. 
 
 Honesty of intention, rectitude of purpose, may be, doubtless they 
 are, admirable supports to a rightly-constituted mind ; but even then 
 they must come supported by such claims to probability as make 
 the injured man feel that he has not lost the sympathy of all his 
 fellows. Now, I had none of these, had even my temperament, bro- 
 ken by sickness and harassed by unlucky conjectures, permitted my 
 appreciating them. 
 
 I endeavored to call my wounded pride to my aid, and thought 
 over the glance of haughty disdain she gave me as she passed on to 
 her carriage; but even this turned against me, and a humiliating 
 sense of my own degraded position sank deeply into my heart. 
 " This impression at least," thought I, " must be effaced. I cannot 
 permit her to believe- " 
 
 " His Excellency is waiting dinner, sir," said a lacquey, intro- 
 ducing a finely-powdered head gently within the door. I looked at 
 my watch — it was eight o'clock ; snatching my sabre, and shocked 
 at my delay, I hastily followed the servant down stairs, and thus at 
 once cut short my deliberations. 
 
 The man must be but little observant, or deeply sunk in his own 
 reveries, who, arriving half an hour too late for dinner, fails to de- 
 tect in the faces of the assembled and expectant guests a very pal- 
 
454 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 pable expression of discontent and displeasure. It is truly a moment 
 of awkwardness, and one in which few are found to manage with 
 success ; the blushing, hesitating, blundering apology of the absent 
 man, is scarcely better than the ill-affected surprise of the more 
 practised offender. The bashfulness of the one is as distasteful as 
 the cool impertinence of the other ; both are thoroughly out of 
 place, for we are thinking of neither ; our thoughts are wandering 
 to cold soups and rechauffed pates, and we neither care for nor esti- 
 mate the cause, but satisfy our spleen by cursing the offender. 
 
 Happily for me, I was clad in a triple insensibility to such feel- 
 ings, and, with an air of most perfect unconstraint and compo- 
 sure, walked into a drawing-room where about twenty persons were 
 busily discussing what peculiar amiability in my character would 
 compensate for my present conduct. 
 
 "At last, O'Malley, at last!" said Sir George. "Why, my dear 
 boy, how very late you are !" 
 
 I muttered something about a long walk — distance from Lisbon, 
 &c. 
 
 "Ah ! that was it. I was right, you see !" said an old lady in a 
 spangled turban, as she whispered something to her friend beside 
 her, who appeared excessively shocked at the information conveyed; 
 while a fat, round-faced little general, after eyeing me steadily 
 through his glass, expressed a sotto voce wish that I was upon his staff. 
 I felt my cheek reddening at the moment, and stared around me 
 like one whose trials were becoming downright insufferable, when 
 happily dinner was announced, and terminated my embarrassment. 
 
 As the party filed past, I perceived that Miss Dashwood was not 
 amongst them ; and, with a heart relieved for the moment by the 
 circumstance, and inventing a hundred conjectures to account for 
 it, I followed with the aides-de-camp and the staff to the dinner- 
 room. 
 
 The temperament is very Irish, I believe, which renders a man so 
 elastic that from the extreme of depression to the very climax of 
 high spirits there is but one spring. To this I myself plead guilty, 
 and thus scarcely was I freed from the embarrassment which a meet- 
 ing with Lucy Dashwood must have caused, when my heart bounded 
 with lightness. 
 
 When the ladies withdrew, the events of the campaign became the 
 subject of conversation, and upon these, very much to my astonish- 
 ment, I found myself consulted as an authority. The Douro, from 
 some fortunate circumstance, had given me a reputation I never 
 dreamed of, and I heard my opinions quoted upon topics of which 
 my standing as an officer and my rank in the service could not 
 imply a very extended observation. Power was absent on duty; 
 
THE DINNER. 455 
 
 and, happily for my supremacy, the company consisted entirely of 
 generals in the commissariat, or new arrivals from England, all of 
 whom knew still less than myself. 
 
 What will not iced champagne and flattery do ? Singly, they are 
 strong impulses; combined, their power is irresistible. I now heard 
 for the first time that our great leader had been elevated to the peer- 
 age by the title of Lord Wellington, and I sincerely believe — how- 
 ever now I may smile at the confession — that at the moment I felt 
 more elation at the circumstance than he did. The glorious sensa- 
 tion of being in any way, no matter how remotely, linked with the 
 career of those whose path is a high one, and whose destinies are 
 cast for great events, thrilled through me ; and, in all the warmth of 
 my admiration and pride for our great captain, a secret pleasure 
 stirred within me as I whispered to myself, " And I, too, am a sol- 
 dier !" 
 
 I fear me that very little flattery is sufficient to turn the head of 
 a young man of eighteen ; and if I yielded to the " pleasant incense," 
 let my apology be, that I was not used to it ; and, lastly, let me 
 avow, if I did get tipsy — I liked the liquor. And why not? It is 
 the only tipple I know of that leaves no headache the next morning 
 to punish you for the glories of the past night. It may, like all 
 other strong potations, induce you to make a fool of yourself when 
 under its influence ; but, like the nitrous oxide gas, its effects are 
 passing, and as the pleasure is an ecstasy for the time, and your 
 constitution none the worse when it is over, I really see no harm 
 in it. 
 
 Then the benefits are manifest ; for while he who gives becomes 
 never the poorer for his benevolence, the receiver is made rich 
 indeed. It matters little that some dear, kind friend is ready with 
 his bitter draught to remedy what he is pleased to call its unwhole- 
 some sweetness ; you betake yourself with only the more pleasure to 
 the " blessed elixir," whose fascinations neither the poverty of your 
 pocket nor the penury of your brain can withstand, and by the 
 magic of whose spell you are great and gifted. " Vive la bagatelle I" 
 saith the Frenchman. "Long live Flattery!" say I, come from 
 what quarter it will ; the only wealth of the poor man, — the only re- 
 ward of the unknown one ; the arm that supports us in failure, — 
 the hand that crowns us in success ; the comforter in our affliction, 
 — the gay companion in our hours of pleasure ; the lullaby of the 
 infant, — the staff of old age ; the secret treasure we lock up in our 
 own hearts, and which ever grows greater as we count it over. Let 
 me not be told that the coin is fictitious, and the gold not genuine ; 
 its clink is as musical to the ear as though it bore the last impression 
 of the mint, and I'm not the man to cast an aspersion upon its value. 
 
456 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 This little digression, however seemingly out of place, may serve 
 to illustrate what it might be difficult to convey in other words, 
 namely, that if Charles O'Malley became in his own estimation a 
 very considerable personage that day at dinner, the fault lay not en- 
 tirely with himself, but with his friends, who told him he was such. 
 In fact, my good reader, I was the lion of the party, — the man who 
 saved Laborde, — who charged through a brigade of guns, — who per- 
 formed feats which newspapers quoted, though he never heard of 
 them himself. At no time is a man so successful in society as when 
 his reputation heralds him, and it needs but little conversational elo- 
 quence to talk well, if you have but a willing and ready auditory. 
 Of mine, I could certainly not complain ; and as, drinking deeply, 
 I poured forth a whole tide of campaigning recital, I saw the old 
 colonels of recruiting districts exchanging looks of wonder and ad- 
 miration with officers of the ordnance, while Sir George himself, 
 evidently pleased at my dSut, went back to an early period of our 
 acquaintance, and related the rescue of his daughter in Galway. 
 
 In an instant the whole current of my thoughts was changed. My 
 first meeting with Lucy, my boyhood's dream of ambition, my 
 plighted faith, my thoughts of our last parting in Dublin, when, in 
 a moment of excited madness, I told my tale of love. I remembered 
 her downcast look, as, her cheek now flushing, now growing pale, 
 she trembled while I spoke. I thought of her as in the crash of 
 battle her image flashed across my brain, and made me feel a rush 
 of chivalrous enthusiasm to win her heart by " doughty deeds." 
 
 I forgot all around and about me. My head reeled ; the wine, the 
 excitement, my long previous illness, all pressed upon me ; and, as 
 my temples throbbed loudly and painfully, a chaotic rush of discor- 
 dant, ill-connected ideas flitted across my mind. There seemed some 
 stir and confusion in the room, but why or wherefore I could not 
 think, nor could I recall my scattered senses, till Sir George Dash- 
 wood's voice roused me once again to consciousness. 
 
 " We are going to have some coffee, O'Malley. Miss Dashwood 
 expects us in the drawing-room. You have not seen her yet?" 
 
 I know not my reply ; but he continued : 
 
 " She lias some letters for you, I think." 
 
 I muttered something, and suffered him to pass on ; no sooner had 
 he done so, however, than I turned towards the door, and rushed 
 into the street. The cold night air suddenly recalled me to myself, 
 and I stood for a moment, endeavoring to collect myself; as I did so 
 a servant stopped, and, saluting me, presented me with a letter. For 
 a second, a cold chill came over me ; I knew not what fear beset me. 
 The letter I at last remembered must be that one alluded to by Sir 
 George, so I took it in silence, and walked on. 
 
THE LETTER. 457 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE LETTER. 
 
 HURRYING to my quarters, I made a hundred guesses from 
 whom the letter could have come ; a kind of presentiment 
 told me that it bore in some measure upon the present crisis 
 of my life, and I burned with anxiety to read it. 
 
 No sooner had I reached the light than all my hopes on this head 
 vanished ; the envelope bore, the well-known name of my old college 
 chum, Frank Webber, and none could at the moment have more 
 completely dispelled all chance of interesting me. I threw it 
 from me with disappointment, and sat moodily down to brood over 
 my fate. 
 
 At length, however, and almost without knowing it, I drew the 
 lamp towards me, and broke the seal. The reader being already 
 acquainted with my amiable friend, there is the less indiscretion in 
 communicating the contents, which ran thus : 
 
 " Trinity College, Dublin, No. 2. 
 " Oct. 5, 1810. 
 
 " My Dear O'Malley : — Nothing but your death and burial, 
 with or without military honors, can possibly excuse your very dis- 
 graceful neglect of your old friends here. Nesbitt has never heard 
 of you, neither has Smith. Ottley swears never to have seen your 
 handwriting, save on the back of a protested bill. You have totally 
 forgotten me, and the Dean informs me that you have never conde- 
 scended a single line to him ; which latter inquiry on my part nearly 
 cost me a rustication. 
 
 " A hundred conjectures to account for your silence — a new feature 
 in you since you were here — are afloat. Some assert that your sol- 
 diering has turned your head, and that you are above corresponding 
 with civilians. Your friends, however, who know you better, and 
 value your worth, think otherwise ; and having seen a paragraph 
 about a certain O'Malley being tried by court-martial for stealing a 
 goose, and maltreating the woman that owned it, ascribe your not 
 writing to other motives. Do, in any case, relieve our minds ; say, 
 is it yourself, or only a relative that's mentioned ? 
 
 " Herbert came over from London with a long story about your 
 doing wonderful things — capturing cannon and general officers by 
 scores — but devil a word of it is extant ; and if you have really 
 committed these acts, they have 'misused the king's press infernally,' 
 for neither in the Times nor the Post are you heard of. Answer this 
 point, and say also if you have got promotion ; for what precise sign 
 you are algebraically expressed by at this writing may serve Fitz- 
 
458 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 gerald for a fellowship question. And for us, we are jogging along, 
 semper eadem — that is, worse and worse. Dear Cecil Cavendish, our 
 gifted friend, slight of limb and soft of voice, has been rusticated for 
 immersing four bricklayers in that green receptacle of stagnant 
 water and duckweed, yclept the ' Haha.' Roper, equally unlucky, 
 has taken to reading for honors, and obtained a medal, I fancy — at 
 least his friends shy him, and it must be something of that kind. 
 Belson — poor Belson (fortunately for him he was born in the nine- 
 teenth, not the sixteenth century, or he'd be most likely ornamenting 
 a pile of fagots) — ventured upon soma stray excursions into the 
 Hebrew verbs — the professor himself never having transgressed be- 
 yond the declensions — and the consequence is, he is in disgrace 
 among the seniors. And as for me, a heavy charge hangs over my 
 devoted head, even while I write. The Senior Lecturer, it appears, 
 has been for some time instituting some very singular researches 
 into the original state of our goodly college at its founding. Plans 
 and specifications showing its extent and magnificence have been 
 continually before the board for the last month ; and in such repute 
 have been a smashed door-sill or an old arch, that freshmen have 
 now abandoned conic sections for crowbars, and instead of the 
 ' Principia' have taken up the pickaxe. You know, my dear fellow, 
 with what enthusiasm I enter into any scheme for the aggrandize- 
 ment of our Alma Mater, so I need not tell you how ardently I ad- 
 ventured into the career now opened to me. My time was com- 
 pletely devoted to the matter ; neither means nor health did I spare, 
 and in my search for antiquarian lore, I have actually undermined 
 the old wall of the fellows' garden, and am each morning in expec- 
 tation of hearing that the big bell near the commons-hall has 
 descended from its lofty and noisy eminence, and is snugly repos- 
 ing in the mud. Meanwhile, accident put me in possession of a 
 most singular and remarkable discovery. Our chambers — I call 
 them ours for old association sake — are, you may remember, in the 
 Old Square. Well, I have been fortunate enough, within the very 
 precincts of my own dwelling, to contribute a very wonderful fact to 
 the history of the University; alone — unassisted — unaided, I labored 
 at my discovery. Few can estimate the pleasure I felt — the fame 
 and reputation I anticipated. I drew up a little memoir for the 
 board, most respectfully and civilly worded, having for its title the 
 following : 
 
 ' Account 
 
 Of a remarkable Subterranean Passage lately discovered in the 
 
 Old Building of Trinity College, Dublin : 
 
 With Observations upon its Extent, Antiquity, and Probable Use. 
 
 By F. Webbek, Senior Freshman.' 
 
THE LETTER. 459 
 
 " My dear O'Malley, I'll not dwell upon the pride I felt in my new 
 character of antiquarian ; it is enough to state that my very remark- 
 able tract was well considered and received, and a commission 
 appointed to investigate the discovery, consisting of the Vice-Pro- 
 vost, the Senior Lecturer, old Woodhouse, the Sub-Dean, and a few 
 more. 
 
 " On Tuesday last they came accordingly in full academic cos- 
 tume, I being habited most accurately in the like manner, and con- 
 ducting them with all form into my bed-room, where a large screen 
 concealed from view the entrance to the tunnel alluded to. Assum- 
 ing a very John Kembleish attitude, I struck this down with one 
 hand, pointing with the other to the wall, as I exclaimed, ' There ! 
 look there !' 
 
 " I need only quote Barret's exclamation to enlighten you upon my 
 discovery, as drawing in his breath with a strong effort, he burst out : 
 
 " * May the devil admire me, but it's a rat hole !' 
 
 " I fear, Charley, he's right, and, what's more, that the board will 
 think so, for this moment a very warm discussion is going on among 
 that amiable and learned body whether I shall any longer remain an 
 ornament to the University. In fact, the terror with which they fled 
 from my chambers, overturning each other in the passage, seemed to 
 imply that they thought me mad ; and I do believe my voice, look, 
 and attitude w r ould not have disgraced a blue cotton dressing-gown 
 and a cell in ' Swifts'. Be this as it may, few men have done more 
 for college than I have. The sun never stood still for Joshua with 
 more resolution than I have rested in my career of freshman ; and 
 if I have contributed little to the fame, I have done much for the 
 funds of the University ; and when they come to compute the various 
 sums I have paid in, for fines, penalties, and what they call properly 
 1 impositions,' if they don't place a portrait of me in the examina- 
 tion-hall, between Archbishop Usher and Flood, then do I say there 
 is no gratitude in mankind ; not to mention the impulse I have given 
 to the various artisans whose business it is to repair lamps, windows, 
 chimneys, iron railings, and watchmen, all of which I have devoted 
 myself to with an enthusiasm for political economy well known, and 
 registered in the College-street police office. 
 
 11 After all, Charley, I miss you greatly. Your second in a ballad 
 is not to be replaced ; besides, Carlisle Bridge has got low ; medical 
 students and young attorneys affect minstrelsy, and actually frequent 
 haunts sacred to our muse. 
 
 " Dublin is, upon the whole, I think, worse ; though one scarcely 
 ever gets tired laughing at the small celebrities " 
 
 Master Frank here gets indiscreet, so I shall skip. 
 
4G0 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " And so the Dash woods are going too ; this will make mine a 
 pitiable condition, for I really did begin to feel tenderly in that 
 quarter. You may have heard that she refused me ; this, however, 
 is not correct, though I have little doubt it might have been — had I 
 asked her. 
 
 " Hammersley has, you know, got his dismissal. I wonder how 
 the poor fellow took it, when Power gave him back his letters and 
 his picture. How you are to be treated remains to be seen ; in any 
 case, you certainly stand first favorite." 
 
 I laid down the letter at this passage, unable to read further. 
 Here, then, was the solution of the whole chaos of mystery — here 
 the full explanation of what had puzzled my aching brain for many 
 a night long. These were the very letters I had myself delivered 
 into Hammersley's hands ; this the picture he had trodden to dust 
 beneath his heel the morning of our meeting. I now felt the reason 
 of his taunting allusion to my " success," his cutting sarcasm, his 
 intemperate passion. A flood of light poured at once across all the 
 dark passages of my history ; and Lucy, too — dare I think of her ? 
 A rapid thought shot through my brain. What if she had really 
 cared for me ! What if for me she had rejected another's love ! 
 What if, trusting to my faith — my pledged and sworn faith — she had 
 given me her heart! Oh! the bitter agony of that thought, to 
 think that all my hopes were shipwrecked, with the very land in 
 sight. 
 
 I sprang to my feet with some sudden impulse, but as I did so, 
 the blood rushed madly to my face and temples, which beat vio- 
 lently ; a parched and swollen feeling came about my throat ; I en- 
 deavored to open my collar and undo my stock, but my disabled arm 
 prevented me. I tried to call my servant, but my utterance was 
 thick, and my words would not come ; a frightful suspicion crossed 
 me that my reason was tottering. I made towards the door, but, as 
 I did so, the objects around me became confused and mingled, my 
 limbs trembled, and I fell heavily upon the floor ; a pang of dreadful 
 pain shot through me as I fell— my arm was rebroken. After this, 
 I knew no more ! All the accumulated excitement of the evening 
 bore down with one fell swoop upon my brain. Ere day broke, I 
 was delirious. 
 
 I have a vague and indistinct remembrance of hurried and anx- 
 ious faces around my bed, of whispered words and sorrowful looks ; 
 but my own thoughts careered over the bold hill of the far west as 
 I trod them in my boyhood, free and high of heart, or recurred to 
 the din and crash of the battle-field, with the mad bounding of the 
 war-horse, and the loud clang of the trumpet ; perhaps the acute 
 pain of my swollen and suffering arm gave the character to my 
 
THE LETTER. 461 
 
 mental aberration ; for I have more than once observed among the 
 wounded in battle that, even when torn and mangled by grape from 
 a howitzer, their ravings have partaken of a high feature of enthu- 
 siasm, shouts of triumph, and exclamations of pleasure; even songs 
 have I heard — but never once the low muttering of despair, or the 
 half-stifled cry of sorrow and affliction. 
 
 Such were the few gleams of consciousness which visited me, and 
 even to such as these I soon became insensible. 
 
 Few like to chronicle, fewer still to read, the sad history of a sick- 
 bed. Of mine, I know but little. The throbbing pulses of the erring 
 brain, the wild fancies of lunacy, take no note of time. There is no 
 past nor future — a dreadful present, full of its hurried and confused 
 impressions, is all that the mind beholds; and even when some 
 gleams of returning reason flash upon the mad confusion of the 
 brain, they come like sunbeams through a cloud, dimmed, darkened, 
 and perverted. 
 
 It is the restless activity of the mind in fever that constitutes its 
 most painful anguish ; the fast-flitting thoughts that rush ever on- 
 ward, crowding sensation on sensation, an endless train of exciting 
 images, without purpose or repose ; or even worse, the straining 
 effort to pursue some vague and shadowy conception, which evades 
 us ever as we follow, but which mingles with all around and about 
 us — haunting us at midnight as in the noontime. 
 
 Of this nature was a vision which came constantly before me, till 
 at length, by its very recurrence, it assumed a kind of real and pal- 
 pable existence ; and as I watched it, my heart thrilled with the 
 high ardor of enthusiasm and delight, or sunk into the dark abyss 
 of sorrow and despair. " The dawning of morning, the daylight 
 sinking," brought no other image to my aching sight ; and of this 
 alone, of all the impressions of the period, has my mind retained 
 any consciousness. 
 
 Methought I stood within an old and venerable cathedral, where 
 the dim yellow light fell with a rich but solemn glow upon the 
 fretted capitals, or the grotesque tracings of the oaken carvings, 
 lighting up the faded gildings of the stately monuments, and tinting 
 the varied hues of time-worn banners. The mellow notes of a deep 
 organ filled the air, and seemed to attune the sense to all the awe 
 and reverence of the place, where the very footfall, magnified by its 
 many echoes, seemed half a profanation. I stood before an altar, 
 beside me a young and lovely girl, whose bright brown tresses waved 
 in loose masses upon a neck of snowy whiteness ; her hand, cold and 
 pale, rested within my own ; we knelt together, not in prayer, but a 
 feeling of deep reverence stole over my heart, as she repeated some 
 few half-uttered words after me ; I knew that she was mine. Oh ! 
 
462 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 the ecstasy of that moment, as, springing to my feet, I darted for- 
 ward to press her to my heart ! when suddenly, an arm was inter- 
 posed between us, while a low but solemn voice rung in my ears, 
 " Stir not, for thou art false and traitorous, thy vow a perjury, and 
 thy heart a lie I" Slowly and silently the fair form of my loved 
 Lucy — for it was she — receded from my sight. One look, one last 
 look of sorrow — it was scarce reproach — fell upon me, and I sank 
 back upon the cold pavement broken-hearted and forsaken. 
 
 This dream came with daybreak, and with the calm repose of 
 evening ; the still hours of the waking night brought no other image 
 to my eyes ; and when its sad influence had spread a gloom and des- 
 olation over my wounded heart, a secret hope crept over me that 
 again the bright moment of happiness would return, and once 
 more beside that ancient altar I'd kneel, beside my bride, and call 
 her mine. 
 
 *****. *** 
 
 For the rest, my memory retains but little ; the kind looks which 
 came around my bedside brought but a brief pleasure, for in their 
 affectionate beaming I could read the gloomy prestige of my fate. 
 The hurried but cautious step, the whispered sentences, the averted 
 gaze of those who sorrowed for me, sank far deeper into my heart 
 than my friends then thought of. Little do they think, who min- 
 ister to the sick or dying, how each passing word, each flitting 
 glance is noted, and how the pale and stilly figure, which lies all 
 but lifeless before them, counts over the hours he has to live by the 
 smiles or tears around him. 
 
 Hours, days, weeks rolled over, and still my fate hung in the 
 balance ; and while in the wild enthusiasm of my erring faculties I 
 wandered far in spirit from my bed of suffering and pain, some 
 well-remembered voice beside me would strike upon my ear, bring- 
 ing me back, as if by magic, to all the realities of life, and invest- 
 ing my almost unconscious state with all the hopes and fears about 
 me. 
 
 One by one, at length, these fancies fled from me, and to the de- 
 lirium of fever succeeded the sad and helpless consciousness of 
 illness, far, far more depressing; for as the conviction of sense came 
 back, the sorrowful aspect of a dreary future came with it. 
 
THE VILLA. i 463 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE VILLA. 
 
 THE gentle twilight of an autumnal evening, calm, serene and 
 mellow, was falling, as I opened my eyes to consciousness of 
 life and being, and looked around me. I lay in a large and 
 handsomely-furnished apartment, in which the hand of taste was 
 as evident in all the decorations as the unsparing employment of 
 wealth ; the silk draperies of my bed, the inlaid tables, the ormolu 
 ornaments which glittered upon the chimney, were one by one so 
 many puzzles to my erring senses, and I opened and shut my eyes 
 again and again, and essayed by every means in my power to ascer- 
 tain if they were not the visionary creations of a fevered mind. I 
 stretched out my hands to feel the objects ; and even while holding 
 freshly-plucked flowers in my grasp, I could scarce persuade myself 
 that they were real. A thrill of pain at this instant recalled me to 
 other thoughts, and I turned my eyes upon my wounded arm, which, 
 swollen and stiffened, lay motionless beside me. Gradually, my 
 memory came back, and to my weak faculties some passages of my 
 former life were presented, not collectedly it is true, nor in any 
 order, but scattered, isolated scenes. While such thoughts flew past, 
 my ever rising question to myself was, " Where am I now ?" The 
 vague feeling which illness leaves upon the mind whispered to me 
 of kind looks and soft voices ; and I had a dreamy consciousness 
 about me of being watched and cared for, but wherefore, or by whom, 
 I knew not. 
 
 From a partly-open door, which led into a garden, a mild and 
 balmy air fanned my temples, and soothed my heated brow ; and as 
 the light curtain waved to and fro with the breeze, the odor of the 
 rose and the orange-tree filled the apartment. 
 
 There is something in the feeling of weakness which succeeds to 
 long illness of the most delicious and refined enjoyment. The 
 spirit, emerging as it were from the thraldom of its grosser prison, 
 rises high and triumphant above the meaner thoughts and more 
 petty ambitions of daily life. Purer feelings, more ennobling hopes, 
 succeed ; and gleams of our childhood, mingling with promises for 
 the future, make up an ideal existence, in which the low passions and 
 cares of ordinary life enter not or are forgotten. 'Tis then we learn 
 to hold converse with ourselves ; 'tis then we ask, how has our 
 manhood performed the promises of its youth ? or, have our ripened 
 prospects borne out the pledges of our boyhood ? 'Tis then, in the 
 Calm justice of our lonely hearts, we learn how our failures are but 
 another name for our faults, and that what we looked on as the 
 
464 . CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 vicissitudes of fortune are but the fruits of our own vices. Alas ! 
 how short-lived are such intervals ! Like the fitful sunshine in the 
 wintry sky, they throw one bright and joyous tint over the dark 
 landscape; for a moment the valley and the mountain-top are 
 bathed in a ruddy glow ; the leafless tree and the dark moss seem to 
 feel a touch of spring; but the next instant it is past; the lowering 
 clouds and dark shadows intervene, and the cold blast, the moaning 
 wind, and the dreary waste are once more before us. 
 
 I endeavored to recall the latest events of my career, but in vain ; 
 the real and the visionary were inextricably mingled; and the 
 scenes of my campaign were blended with hopes, and fears, and 
 doubts, which had no existence save in my dreams. My curiosity 
 to know where I was grew now my strongest feeling, and I raised 
 myself with one arm to look around me. In the room all was still 
 and silent, but nothing seemed to intimate what I sought for. As I 
 looked, however, the wind blew back the curtain which half con- 
 cealed the sash-door, and disclosed to me the figure of a man seated 
 at a table ; his back was towards me, but his broad sombrero hat 
 and brown mantle bespoke his nation. The light blue curl of smoke 
 which wreathed gently upward, and the ample display of long- 
 necked, straw-wrapped flasks, also attested that he was enjoying 
 himself with the true Peninsular gusto, having probably partaken 
 of a long siesta. 
 
 It was a perfect picture in its way of the indolent luxury of the 
 South. The rich and perfumed flowers, half closing to the night 
 air, but sighing forth a perfumed " buonas noches" as they betook 
 themselves to rest; the slender shadows of the tall shrubs, stretching 
 motionless across the walks ; the very attitude of the figure him- 
 self, was in keeping, as, supported by easy-chairs, he lounged at 
 full length, raising his head ever and anon, as if to watch the wreath 
 of eddying smoke as it rose upward from his cigar, and melted away 
 in the distance. 
 
 " Yes," thought I, as I looked for some time, " such is the very 
 type of his nation. Surrounded by every luxury of climate, blessed 
 with all that earth can offer of its best and fairest, and yet only 
 using such gifts as mere sensual gratifications." Starting with this 
 theme, I wove a whole story for the unknown personage, whom, in 
 my wandering fancy, I began by creating a grandee of Portugal, 
 invested with rank, honors, and riches, but who, effeminated by the 
 habits and usages of his country, had become the mere idle volup- 
 tuary, living a life of easy and inglorious indolence. My further 
 musings were interrupted at this moment, for the individual to 
 whom I had been so complimentary in my reverie slowly arose 
 from his recumbent position, flung his loose mantle carelessly across 
 
THE VILLA. 405 
 
 his left shoulder, and pushing open the sash-door, entered my 
 chamber. Directing his steps to a large mirror, he stood for some 
 minutes contemplating himself with what, from his attitude, I 
 judged to be no small satisfaction. Though his back was still 
 towards me, and the dim twilight of the room too uncertain to see 
 much, yet I could perceive that he was evidently admiring himself 
 in the glass. Of this fact I had soon the most complete proof, for 
 as I looked, he slowly raised his broad-leafed Spanish hat with 
 an air of most imposing pretension, and bowed reverently to him- 
 self. 
 
 " Comesta vostra senoria ?" said he. 
 
 The whole gesture and style of this proceeding struck me as so 
 ridiculous, that, in spite of all my efforts, I could scarcely repress a 
 laugh. He turned quickly round, and approached the bed. The 
 deep shadow of the sombrero darkened the upper part of his fea- 
 tures, but I could distinguish a pair of fierce-looking moustaches 
 beneath, which curled upward towards his eyes, while a stiff pointed 
 beard stuck straight from his chin. Fearing lest my rude interrup- 
 tion had been overheard, I was framing some polite speech in Por- 
 tuguese, when he opened the dialogue by asking in that language 
 how I did. 
 
 I replied, and was about to ask some questions relative to where 
 and under whose protection I then was, when my grave-looking 
 friend, giving a pirouette upon one leg, sent his hat flying into the 
 air, and cried out in a voice that not even my memory could fail to 
 recognize, — 
 
 " By the rock of Cashel he's cured, he's cured ! — the fever's over. 
 Oh, Master Charles, dear ! oh, master, darling ! and you ain't mad, 
 after all?" 
 
 " Mad ! no, faith ! but I shrewdly suspect you must be." 
 
 " Oh, devil a taste I But spake to me, honey — spake to me, 
 acushla." 
 
 " Where am I ? Whose house is this ? What do you mean by 
 that disguise — that beard " 
 
 " Whisht ! I'll tell you all, av you have patience. But are you 
 cured ? — tell me that first. Sure they was going to cut the arm of! 
 you, till you got out of bed, and with your pistols sent them flying, 
 one out of the w 7 indow and the other down stairs ; and I myself 
 bate the little chap with the saw till he couldn't know himself in the 
 glass.'' 
 
 While Mike ran on at this rate, I never took my eyes from him, and 
 
 it was all my poor faculties were equal to, to convince myself that 
 
 the whole scene was not some vision of a wandering intellect. 
 
 Gradually, however, the well-known features recalled me to myself, 
 
 30 
 
466 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 and as my doubts gave way at length, I laughed long and heartily 
 at the masquerade absurdity of his appearance. 
 
 Mike, meanwhile, whose face expressed no small mistrust at the 
 sincerity of my mirth, having uncloaked himself, proceeded to lay 
 aside his beard and moustaches, saying, as he did so, — 
 
 "There now, darlin' ! there now, master dear! Don't be grinnin' 
 that way ; I'll not be a Portigee any more av you'll be quiet and 
 listen to reason." 
 
 " But, Mike, where am I ? Answer me that question." 
 
 " You're at home, dear ; where else would you be ?" 
 
 " At home," said I, with a start, as my eye ranged over the vari- 
 ous articles of luxury and elegance around, so unlike the more sim- 
 ple and unpretending features of my uncle's house — " at home !" 
 
 " Ay, just so ; sure, isn't it the same thing ? It's ould Don 
 Emanuel that owns it ; and won't it be your own when you're mar- 
 ried to that lovely crayture herself?" 
 
 I started up, and placing my hand upon my throbbing temple, 
 asked myself if I were really awake, or if some flight of fancy had 
 not carried me away beyond the bounds of reason and sense. " Go 
 on, go on !" said I, at length, in a hollow voice, anxious to gather 
 from his words something like a clue to this mystery. "How did 
 this happen ?" 
 
 "Av ye mean how you came here, faith, it was just this way : 
 After you got the fever, and bate the doctors, devil a one would go 
 near you but myself and the Major." 
 
 "The Major — Major Monsoon ?" 
 
 " No ; Major Power himself. Well, he tould your friends up here 
 how it was going very hard with you, and that you were like to die, 
 and the same evening they sent down a beautiful litter, as like a 
 hearse as two peas, for you, and brought you up here in state ; 
 devil a thing was wanting but a few people to raise the cry to make 
 it as fine a funeral as ever I seen ; and sure I set up a whillilew my- 
 self in the Black Horse square, and the devils only laughed at me. 
 
 " Well, you see they put you into a beautiful, elegant bed, and the 
 young lady herself sat down beside you, between times fanning you 
 with a big fan, and then drying her eyes, for she was weeping like a 
 waterfall. 'Don Miguel,' says she to me, — for, ye see, I put your 
 cloak on by mistake when I was leaving the quarters, — 'Don 
 Miguel, questa hidalgo e vostros amigo V 
 
 " * My most particular friend,' says I ; * God spare him many 
 years to be so.' 
 
 " ' Then take up your quarters here,' said she, ' and don't leave 
 him ; we'll do everything in our power to make him comfortable. , 
 
 " ' I'm not particular,' says I ; ' the run of the house ' " 
 
THE VILLA. 467 
 
 "Then this is the Villa Nuova?" said I, with a faint sigh. 
 
 " The same," replied Mike ; " and a sweet place it is for eating 
 and drinking — for wine in bucketfuls, av ye axed for it, — for dancing 
 and singing every evening, with as pretty craytures as ever I set eyes 
 upon. Upon my conscience, ii's as good as Galway ; and good man- 
 ners it is they have. What's more, none of your liberties nor fami- 
 liarities with strangers, but it's Don Miguel, devil a less. ' Don 
 Miguel, av it's plazing to you to take a drop of Xeres before your 
 meat?' — or, 'Would you have a shaugh of a pipe or cigar when 
 you're done?' That's the way of it." 
 
 "And Sir George Dashwood," said I, "has he been here? has he 
 inquired for me ?" 
 
 " Every day, either himself or one of the staff comes galloping up 
 at luncheon-time to ask after you; and then they have a bit of 
 tender discourse with the Senhora herself. Oh ! devil a bit need ye 
 fear them, she's true blue; and it isn't the Major's fault, — upon my 
 conscience it isn't ; for he does be coming the blarney over her in 
 beautiful style." 
 
 " Does Miss Dashwood ever visit here ?" said I, with a voice fal- 
 tering and uncertain enough to have awakened suspicion in a more 
 practised observer. 
 
 " Never once ; and that's what I call unnatural behavior, after 
 you saving her life ; and if she wasn't " 
 
 " Be silent, I say." 
 
 " Well — well, there ; I won't say any more ; and sure it's time for 
 me to be putting on my beard again. I'm going to the Casino with 
 Catrina, and sure it's with real ladies I might be going av it wasn't 
 for Major Power, that told them I wasn't an officer ; but it's all 
 right again. I gave them a great history of the Frees, from the 
 time of Cuila na Toole, that was one of the family, and a cousin of 
 Moses, I believe ! and they behave well to one that comes from the 
 ould stock." 
 
 " Don Miguel ! Don Miguel !" said a voice from the garden. 
 
 " I'm coming, my angel ! I'm coming, my turtle-dove !" said Mike, 
 arranging his moustache and beard with amazing dexterity. " Ah, 
 but it would do your heart good av you could take a peep at ua 
 about twelve o'clock, dancing ' Dirty James' for a bolero, and just 
 see Miss Catrina, the lady's maid, doing ' Cover the Buckle' as neat 
 as nature. There, now, there's the lemonade near your hand, and 
 I'll leave you the lamp, and you may go asleep as soon as you please, 
 for Miss Inez won't come in to-night to play the guitar, for the 
 doctor said it might do you harm now." 
 
 So saying, and before I could summon presence of mind to ask 
 another question, Don Miguel wrapped himself in the broad folds of 
 
468 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 his Spanish cloak, and strode from the room with the air of an 
 hidalgo. 
 
 I slept little that night ; a full tide of memory rushing in upon 
 me, brought back the hour of my return to Lisbon and the wreck of 
 all my hopes, which, from the narrative of my servant, I now per- 
 ceived to be complete. I dare not venture upon recording how 
 many plans suggested themselves to my troubled spirit, and were in 
 turn rejected.- To meet Lucy Dash wood — to make a full and can- 
 did declaration — to acknowledge that flirtation alone with Donna 
 Inez — a mere passing, boyish flirtation — had given the coloring to 
 my innocent passion, and that in heart and soul I was hers and hers 
 only — this was my first resolve ; but, alas ! if I had not courage to 
 sustain a common interview, to meet her in the careless crowd of 
 a drawing-room, what could I do under circumstances like these ? 
 Besides, the matter would be cut very short by her coolly declaring 
 that she had neither right nor inclination to listen to such a decla- 
 ration. The recollection of her look as she passed me to her car- 
 riage came flashing across my brain, and decided this point. No, 
 no! I'll' not encounter that; however appearances for the moment 
 had been against me, she should not have treated me thus coldly 
 and disdainfully. It was quite clear she had never cared for me ; 
 wounded pride had been her only feeling. As I reasoned, I ended 
 by satisfying myself that in that quarter all was at an end forever. 
 
 Now, then, for dilemma number two, I thought. The Sen bora — ■ 
 my first impulse was one of anything but gratitude to her, by whose 
 kind, tender care my hours of pain and suffering had been soothed 
 and alleviated. But for her, I should have been spared all my 
 present embarrassment — all my shipwrecked fortunes ; but for her, I 
 should now be the aide-de-camp residing in Sir George Dashwood's 
 own house, meeting with Lucy every hour of the day, dining 
 beside her, riding out with her, pressing my suit by every means 
 and with every advantage of my position ; but for her and her dark 
 eyes — and, by-the-by, what eyes they are ! — how full of brilliancy, 
 yet how teeming with an expression of soft and melting sweetness ; 
 and her mouth, too, how perfectly chiselled those full lips — how 
 different from the cold, unbending firmness of Miss Dashwood's — 
 not but I have seen Lucy smile too, and what a sweet smile ! — how 
 it lighted up her fair cheek, and made her blue eyes darken and 
 deepen till they looked like heaven's own vault. Yes, there is more 
 poetry in a blue eye. But still Inez is a very lovely girl, and her 
 foot never was surpassed ; she is a coquette, too, about that foot and 
 ankle — I rather like a woman to be so. What a sensation she would 
 make in England — how she would be the rage ! And then I thought 
 of home and Galway, and the astonishment of some, the admiration 
 
THE VISIT. 469 
 
 of others, as I presented her as my wife ; the congratulations of my 
 friends, the wonder of the men, the tempered envy of the women. 
 Methought I saw my uncle, as he pressed her in his arms, say, 
 "Yes, Charley, this. is a prize worth campaigning for." 
 
 The stray sounds of a guitar which came from the garden broke 
 in upon my musings at this moment. It seemed as if a finger was 
 straying heedlessly across the strings. I started up, and to my sur- 
 prise perceived it was Inez. Before I had time to collect myself, a 
 gentle tap at the window aroused me ; it opened softly, while from 
 an unseen hand a bouquet of fresh flowers was thrown upon my 
 bed ; before I could collect myself to speak, the sash closed again 
 and I was alone. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE VISIT. 
 
 M 1 
 
 "IKE'S performances at the masquerade had doubtless been of 
 the most distinguished character, and demanded a compen- 
 sating period of repose, for he did not make his appearance 
 the entire morning. Towards noon, however, the door from the 
 garden gently opened, and I heard a step upon the stone terrace, and 
 something which sounded to my ears like the clank of a sabre. I 
 lifted my head, and saw Fred Power beside me. 
 
 I shall spare my readers the recital of my friend, which, however 
 full and explanatory of past events, contained in reality little more 
 than Mickey Free had already told me. In fine, he informed me 
 that our army, by a succession of retreating movements, had deserted 
 the northern provinces, and now occupied the entrenched lines of 
 Torres Vedras. Massena, with a powerful force, was still in march, 
 reinforcements pouring in upon him, and every expectation point- 
 ing to the probability that he would attempt to storm our position. 
 
 " The wise-heads," remarked Power, " talk of our speedy embark- 
 ation — the sanguine and the hot-brained rave of a great victory, and 
 the retreat of Massena; but I was up at head-quarters last week 
 with despatches, and saw Lord Wellington myself." 
 
 " Well, what did you make out ? Did he drop any hint of his 
 own views ?" 
 
 " Faith, I can't say he did. He asked me some questions about 
 the troops just landed — he spoke a little of the commissary depart- 
 ment — cursed the blankets — said that the green forage was bad for 
 the artillery horses — sent me an English paper to read about the 
 
470 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 O. P. riots, said the harriers would throw off about six o'clock, and 
 that he hoped to see me at dinner." 
 
 I could not restrain a laugh at Power's catalogue of his lordship's 
 topics. u So," said I, " he at least does not take any gloomy views 
 of our present situation." 
 
 " Who can tell what he thinks ? He's ready to fight, if fighting 
 will do anything — and to retreat, if that be better. But that he'll 
 sleep an hour less, or drink a glass of claret more — come what will 
 of it — I'll believe from no man living. 
 
 " We've lost one gallant thing in any case, Charley," resumed 
 Power. " Busaco was, I'm told, a glorious day, and our people were 
 in the heat of it. So that if we do leave the Peninsula now, that 
 will be a confounded chagrin. Not for you, my poor fellow, for you 
 could not stir ; but I was so cursed foolish to take the staff appoint- 
 ment : thus one folly ever entails another." 
 
 There was a tone of bitterness in which these words were uttered 
 that left no doubt upon my mind some arrive penste remained lurk- 
 ing behind them. My eyes met his — he bit his lip, colored deeply, 
 rose from the chair, and walked towards the window. 
 
 The chance allusion of my man Mike flashed upon me at the mo- 
 ment, and I dared not trust myself to break silence. I now thought 
 I could trace in my friend's manner less of that gay and careless 
 buoyancy which ever marked him. There was a tone, it seemed, of 
 more grave and sombre character, and even when he jested, the smile 
 his features bore was not his usual frank and happy one, and speed- 
 ily gave way to an expression I had never before remarked. Our 
 silence, which had now lasted for some minutes, was becoming em- 
 barrassing — that strange consciousness that, to a certain extent, we 
 were reading each other's thoughts, made us both cautious of break- 
 ing it; and when, at length, turning abruptly round, he asked, 
 " When I hoped to be up and about again ?" I felt my heart relieved 
 from what I knew not well what load of doubt and difficulty that 
 oppressed it. We chatted on for some little time longer, the news 
 of Lisbon and the daily gossip finishing our topics. 
 
 " Plenty of gayety, Charley ! dinners and balls to no end ! so get 
 well, my boy, and make the most of it." 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " I'll do my best ; but be assured the first use 
 I'll make of health will be to join the regiment. I am heartily 
 ashamed of myself for all I have lost already — though not altogether 
 my fault." 
 
 "And will you really join at once?" said Power, with a look of 
 eager anxiety I could not possibly account for. 
 
 " Of course I will ; what have I, what can I have, to detain me 
 here?" 
 
THE VISIT. 471 
 
 What reply he was about to make at this moment I know not, but 
 the door opened, and Mike announced Sir George Dashwood. 
 
 " Gently ! my worthy man, not so loud, if you please !" said the 
 mild voice of the General, as he stepped noiselessly across the room, 
 evidently shocked at the indiscreet tone of my follower. "Ah, 
 Power, you here ! and our poor friend, how is he ?" 
 
 "Able to answer for himself at last, Sir George," said I, grasping 
 his proffered hand. 
 
 " My poor lad ! you've had a long bout of it ; but you've saved 
 your arm, and that's well worth the lost time. Well, I've come to 
 bring you good news ; there's been a very sharp cavalry affair, and 
 our fellows have been the conquerors." 
 
 " There again, Power — listen to that ! We are losing everything!" 
 
 "Not so, not so, my boy," said Sir George, smiling blandly, but 
 archly. "There are conquests to be won here as well as there, 
 and, in your present state, I rather think you better fitted for such 
 as these." 
 
 Power's brow grew clouded ; he essayed a smile, but it failed, and 
 he rose and hurried towards the window. 
 
 As for me, my confusion must have led to a very erroneous im- 
 pression of my real feelings, and I perceived Sir George anxious to 
 turn the channel of the conversation. 
 
 " You see but little of your host, O'Malley," he resumed ; " he is 
 ever from home ; but I believe nothing could be kinder than his 
 arrangements for you. You are aware that he kidnapped you from 
 us? I had sent Forbes over to bring you to us, your room was pre- 
 pared, everything in readiness, when we met your man Mike, setting 
 forth upon a mule, who told us you had just taken your departure 
 for the villa. We both had a claim upon you, and, I believe, pretty 
 much on the same score. By the bye, you have not seen Lucy since 
 your arrival. I never knew it till yesterday, when I asked if she did 
 not find you altered," 
 
 I blundered out some absurd reply, blushed, corrected myself, and 
 got confused. Sir George, attributing this, doubtless, to my weak 
 state, rose soon after, and, taking Power along with him, remarked, 
 as he left the room, 
 
 " We are too much for him yet, I see that ; so we'll leave him 
 quiet some time longer." 
 
 Thanking him in my heart for his true appreciation of my state, 
 I sank back upon my pillow to think over all I had heard and seen. 
 " Well, Mister Charles," said Mike, as he came forward with a 
 smile, "I suppose you heard the news? The 14th bate the French 
 down at Merca there, and took seventy prisoners ; but, sure, it's 
 little good it'll do, after all." 
 
472 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "And why not, Mike ?" 
 
 "Muska! isn't Boney coming himself? He's bringing all the 
 Roossians down with him, and going to destroy us entirely." 
 
 " Not at all, man ; you mistake. He's nothing to do with Eussia, 
 and has quite enough on his hands at this moment." 
 
 " God grant it was truth you were talking ! But, you see, I read 
 it myself in the papers, — or Sergeant Haggarty did, which is the 
 same thing, — that he's coming with the Cusacks." 
 
 "With who?— with what?" 
 
 "With the Cusacks." 
 
 "What the devil do you mean? Who are they?" 
 
 " Oh, Tower of Ivory ! did you never hear of the Cusacks, with 
 the red beards, and the red breeches, and long poles with pike-heads 
 on them, that does all the devilment on horseback — piking and 
 spitting the people like larks." 
 
 " The Cossacks is it, you mean ? The Cossacks ?" 
 
 "Ay, just so, the Cusacks. They're from Clare Island, and there- 
 abouts ; and there's more of them in Meath. They're my mother's 
 people, and always was real devils for fighting." 
 
 I burst out into an immoderate fit of laughing at Mike's etymol- 
 ogy, which thus converted Hetman Platoff into a Galway man. 
 
 " Oh, murder ! isn't it cruel to hear you laugh that way! There 
 now, alanna ! be aisy, and I'll tell you more news. We've the house 
 to ourselves to-day. The ould gentleman's down at Behlem, and the 
 daughter's in Lisbon, making great preparations for a grand ball 
 they're to give when you are quite well." 
 
 " I hope I shall be with the army in a few days, Mike ; and 
 certainly, if I'm able to move about, I'll not remain longer in 
 Lisbon." 
 
 "Arrah! don't say so now ! When was you ever so comfortable? 
 Upon my conscience, it's more like Paradise than anything else. 
 If ye see the dinner we set down to every day ! and, as for drink — 
 if it wasn't that I sleep on the ground-floor, I'd seldom see a 
 blanket." 
 
 " Well, certainly, Mike, I agree with you, these are hard things 
 to tear ourselves away from." 
 
 "Aren't they now, sir? And then Miss Catherine, I'm taching 
 her Irish !" 
 
 " Teaching her Irish ! for Heaven's sake, what use can she make 
 of Irish?" 
 
 "Ah, the crayture, she doesn't know better; and as she was 
 always bothering me to learn her English, I promised one day to 
 do it ; but ye see, somehow, I never was very proficient in strange 
 tongues ; so I thought to myself Irish will do as well. So, you 
 
THE CONFESSION. 473 
 
 perceive, we're taking a coorse of Irish literature, as Mr. Lynch says 
 in Athlone ; and, upon my conscience, she's an apt scholar." 
 
 " ' Good-morning to you, Katey,' says Mr. Power to her the other 
 day, as he passed through the hall. ' Good-morning, my dear ! I 
 hear you speak English perfectly now ?' 
 
 " 'Honia mon diaoul,' says she, making a curtsey. 
 
 " Be the powers, I thought he'd die with the laughing. 
 
 " ' Well, my dear, I hope you don't mean it — do you know what 
 you're saying?' 
 
 " ' Honor bright, Major !' says I — ' honor bright !' and I gave him 
 a wink at the same time. 
 
 " ' Oh, that's it !' said he, ' is it ?' and so he went off holding his 
 hands to his sides with the bare laughing ; and your honor knows it 
 wasn't a blessing she wished him for all that." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE CONFESSION. 
 
 WHAT a strange position this of mine !" thought I, a few morn- 
 ings after the events detailed in the last chapter. " How 
 very fascinating in some respects, how full of all the charm 
 of romance, and how confoundedly difficult to see one's way through." 
 
 To understand my cogitation right, figurez vous, my dear reader, a 
 large and splendidly-furnished drawing-room, from one end of 
 which an orangery in full blossom opens ; from the other is seen a 
 delicious little boudoir, where books, bronzes, pictures and statues, 
 in all the artistic disorder of a lady's sanctum, are bathed in a deep 
 purple light from a stained-glass window of the seventeenth century. 
 
 At a small table beside the wood fire, whose mellow light is flirt- 
 ing with the sunbeams upon the carpet, stands an antique silver 
 breakfast service, which none but the hand of Benvenuto could have 
 chiselled ; beside it sits a girl, young and beautiful ; her dark eyes, . 
 beaming beneath their long lashes, are fixed with an expression of 
 watchful interest upon a pale and sickly youth, who, lounging upon 
 a sofa opposite, is carelessly turning over the leaves of a new journal, 
 or gazing steadfastly on the fretted gothic of the ceiling, while his 
 thoughts are travelling many a mile away, — the lady being the 
 Senhora Inez ; the nonchalant invalid, your unworthy acquaintance, 
 Charles O'Malley. 
 
 What a very strange position, to be sure ! 
 
474 CHARLES O f M ALLEY. 
 
 "Then you are not equal to this ball to-night?" said she, after a 
 pause of some minutes. 
 
 I turned as she spoke ; her words had struck audibly upon my ear, 
 but, lost in my reverie, I could but repeat my own fixed thought — 
 how strange to be so situated ! 
 
 " You are really very tiresome, Signor ; I assure you, you are. I 
 have been giving you a most elegant description of the Casino fete, 
 and the beautiful costumes of our Lisbon belles, but I can get 
 nothing from you but this muttered something, which may be very 
 shocking, for aught I know. I'm sure your friend Major Power 
 would be much more attentive to me ; that is," added she, archly, 
 " if Miss Dashwood were not present." 
 
 " What — why — you don't mean that there is anything there — that 
 Power is paying attention to " 
 
 "Madre divina, how that seems to interest you, and how red you 
 are ! If it were not that you never met her before, and that your 
 acquaintance did not seem to make rapid progress, then I should say 
 you are in love with her yourself." 
 
 I had to laugh at this, but felt my face flushing more. "And so," 
 said I, affecting a careless and indifferent tone, " the gay Fred Power 
 is smitten at last !" 
 
 " Was it so very difficult a thing to accomplish ?" said she, slyly. 
 
 " He seems to say so, at least. And the lady, how does she appear 
 to receive his attentions?" 
 
 " Oh, I should say with evident pleasure and satisfaction, as all 
 girls do the advances of men they don't care for, nor intend to care 
 for." 
 
 " Indeed," said I, slowly ; " indeed, Senhora ?" looking into her 
 eyes as I spoke, as if to read if the lesson were destined for my 
 benefit. 
 
 " There, don't stare so ! — every one knows that." 
 
 " So you don't think, then, that Lucy — I mean Miss Dashwood, — 
 why are you laughing so ?" 
 
 " How can I help it ? your calling her Lucy is so good, I wish she 
 heard it ; she's the very proudest girl I ever knew." 
 
 " But to come back ; you really think she does not care for him ?" 
 
 " Not more than for you; and I may be pardoned for the simile, 
 having seen your meeting. But let me give you the news of our own 
 fete. Saturday is the day fixed ; and you must be quite well — I in- 
 sist upon it. Miss Dashwood has promised to come — no small con- 
 cession ; for, after all, she has never once been here since the day 
 you frightened her. I can't help laughing at my blunder — the two 
 people I had promised myself should fall desperately in love with 
 each other, and who will scarcely meet." 
 
THE CONFESSION. 475 
 
 " But I trusted," said I, pettishly, " that you were not disposed to 
 resign your own interest in me ?" 
 
 " Neither was I," said she, with an easy smile, " except that I 
 have so mairV admirers. I might even spare you to my friends ; 
 though, after all, I should be sorry to lose you — I like you." 
 
 " Yes," said I, half bitterly, " as girls do those they never intend 
 to care for ; is it not so ?" 
 
 " Perhaps yes, and perhaps But is it going to rain ? How pro- 
 voking ! and I have ordered my horse. Well, Signor Carlos, I leave 
 you to your delightful newspaper, and all the magnificent descrip- 
 tions of battles, and sieges, and skirmishes for which you seem 
 doomed to pine without ceasing. There, don't kiss my hand twice ; 
 that's not right." 
 
 " Well, let me begin again " 
 
 " I shall not breakfast with you any more ; but, tell me, am I to 
 order a costume for you in Lisbon ; or will you arrange all that your- 
 self? You must come to the fete, you know." 
 
 " If you would be so very kind." 
 
 " I will, then, be so very kind ; and, once more, adios." So say- 
 ing, with a slight motion of her hand, she smiled a good-bye, and 
 left me. 
 
 " What a lovely girl !" thought I, as I rose and walked to the win- 
 dow, muttering to myself Othello's line, — 
 
 " When I love thee not, chaos is come again." 
 
 In fact, it was the perfect expression of my feeling — the only solu- 
 tion to all the difficulties surrounding me, being to fall desperately, 
 irretrievably in love with the fair Senhora, which, all things con- 
 sidered, was not a very desperate resource for a gentleman in trouble. 
 As I thought over the hopelessness of one attachment, I turned 
 calmly to consider the favorable points of the other. She was truly 
 beautiful, attractive in every sense ; her manner most fascinating, 
 and her disposition, so far as I could pronounce, perfectly amiable. 
 I felt already something more than interest about her; how very 
 easy would be the transition to a stronger feeling ! There was an 
 tclat, too, about being her accepted lover that had its charm. She 
 was the belle par excellence of Lisbon ; and then a sense of pique 
 crossed my mind as I reflected, what would Lucy say of him whom 
 she had slighted and insulted, when he became the husband of the 
 beautiful and millionaire Senhora Inez? 
 
 As my meditations had reached thus far, the door opened stealth- 
 ily, and Catherine appeared, her finger upon her lips, and her ges- 
 ture indicating caution. She carried on her arm a mass of drapery 
 covered by a large mantle, which throwing off as she entered, she 
 
476 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 displayed before me a rich blue domino with silver embroidery. It 
 was large and loose in its folds, so as thoroughly to conceal the fig- 
 ure of any wearer. This she held up before me for an instant with- 
 out speaking ; when at length, seeing my curiosity fully excited, 
 she said, — 
 
 " This is the Senhora's domino. I should be ruined if she knew 
 I showed it ; but I promised — that is, I told " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I understand," relieving her embarrassment about the 
 source of her civilities ; " go on." 
 
 " Well, there are several others like it, but with this small differ- 
 ence, instead of a carnation, which all the others have embroidered 
 upon the cuff, I have made it a rose — you perceive ? La Senhora 
 knows nothing of this — no one save yourself knows it. I'm sure I 
 may trust you with the secret." 
 
 "Fear not in the least, Catherine ; you have rendered me a great 
 service. Let me look at it once more ; ah ! there's no difficulty in 
 detecting it. And you are certain she is unaware of it ?" 
 
 " Perfectly so ; she has several other costumes, but in this one I 
 know she intends some surprise, so be upon your guard." 
 
 With these words, once more carefully concealing the rich dress 
 beneath the mantle, she withdrew, while I strolled forth to wonder 
 what mystery might lie beneath this scheme, and speculate how far 
 I myself was included in the plot she spoke of. 
 
 ******** 
 
 For the few days which succeeded, I passed my time much alo/ie. 
 The Senhora was but seldom at home, and I remarked that Power 
 rarely came to see me. A strange feeling of half-coolness had lat- 
 terly grown between us, and instead of the open confidence we for- 
 merly indulged in when together, we appeared now rather to chat 
 over things of mere every-day interest than of our own immediate 
 plans and prospects. There was a kind of pre-occupation, too, in his 
 manner that struck me; his mind seemed ever straying from the 
 topics he talked of to something remote, and, altogether, he was 
 no longer the frank and reckless dragoon I had ever known him. 
 What could be the meaning of this change ? Had he found out by 
 any accident that I was to blame in my conduct towards Lucy — had 
 any erroneous impression of my interview with her reached his 
 ears? This was most improbable; besides, there was nothing in 
 that to draw down his censure or condemnation, however repre- 
 sented ; or was it that he was himself in love with her — that, de- 
 voted heart and soul to Lucy, he regarded me as a successful rival, 
 preferred before him ! Oh, how could I have so long blinded myself 
 to the fact ! This was the true solution of the whole difficulty. I had 
 more than once suspected this to be so ; now all the circumstances 
 
THE CONFESSION. 477 
 
 of proof poured in upon me. I called to mind his agitated manner 
 the night of my arrival in Lisbon — his thousand questions concerning 
 the reasons of my furlough ; and then, lately, the look of unfeigned 
 pleasure with which he heard me resolve to join my regiment the 
 moment I was sufficiently recovered. I also remembered how 
 assiduously he pressed his intimacy with the Senhora, Lucy's dear- 
 est friend here ; his continual visits at the villa ; those long walks 
 in the garden, where his very look betokened some confidential mis- 
 sion of the heart. Yes, there was no doubt of it — he loved Lucy 
 Dashwood ! Alas ! there seemed to be no end to the complication 
 of my misfortunes ; one by one, I appeared fated to lose whatever 
 had a hold upon my affections, and to stand alone, unloved and un- 
 cared for in the world. My thoughts turned towards the Senhora, 
 but I could not deceive myself into any hope there. My own feel- 
 ings were untouched, and hers I felt to be equally so. Young as I 
 was, there was no mistaking the easy smile of coquetry, the merry 
 laugh of flattered vanity, for a deeper and holier feeling. And then 
 I did not wish it otherwise. One only had taught me to feel how 
 ennobling, how elevating, in all its impulses can be a deep-rooted 
 passion for a young and beautiful girl ! From her eyes alone had I 
 caught the inspiration — that made me pant for glory and distinc- 
 tion. I could not transfer the allegiance of my heart, since it had 
 taught that very heart to beat high and proudly. Lucy, lost to me 
 forever as she must be, was still more than any other woman ever 
 could be. All the past clung to her memory, all the prestige of the 
 future must point to it also. 
 
 And Power, why had he not trusted — why had he not confided in 
 me ? Was this like my old and tried friend ? Alas I I was forget- 
 ting that in his eyes I was the favored rival, and not the despised, 
 rejected suitor. 
 
 " It is past now," thought I, as I rose and walked into the gar- 
 den ; " the dream that made life a fairy tale is dispelled ; the cold 
 reality of the world is before me, and my path lies a lonely and 
 solitary one." My first resolution was to see Power, and relieve his 
 mind of any uneasiness as regarded my pretensions ; they existed no 
 longer. As for me, I was no obstacle to his happiness ; it was, then, 
 but fair and honorable that I should tell him so ; this done, I should 
 leave Lisbon at once. The cavalry had for the most part been 
 ordered to the rear ; still there was always something going forward 
 at the outposts. 
 
 The idea of active service, the excitement of a campaigning life, 
 cheered me, and I advanced along the dark alley of the garden with 
 a lighter and a freer heart. My resolves were not destined to meet 
 delay. As I turned the angle of a walk, Power was before me. He 
 
478 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 was leaning against a tree, his hands crossed upon his bosom, his 
 head bowed forward, and his whole air and attitude betokening 
 deep reflection. 
 
 He started as I came up, and seemed almost to change color. 
 
 "Well, Charley," said he, after a moment's pause; "you look 
 better this morning. How goes the arm ?" 
 
 " The arm is ready for service again, and its owner most anxious 
 for it. Do you know, Fred, I'm thoroughly weary of this life." 
 
 " They're little better, however, at the lines. The French are in 
 position, but never venture a movement ; and, except some few 
 affairs at the pickets, there is really nothing to do." 
 
 " No matter ; remaining here can never serve one's interests ; and 
 besides, I have accomplished what I came for " 
 
 I was about to add, " the restoration of my health," when he sud- 
 denly interrupted me, eyeing me fixedly as he spoke. 
 
 "Indeed ! indeed ! Is that so ?" 
 
 " Yes," said I, half puzzled at the tone and manner of the speech ; 
 "I can join now when I please; meanwhile, Fred, I have been 
 thinking of you. Yes, don't be surprised ; at the very moment we 
 met, you were in my thoughts." 
 
 I took his arm as I said this, and led him down the alley. 
 
 " We are too old, and, I trust, too true friends, Fred, to have 
 secrets from each other, and yet we have been playing this silly 
 game for some weeks past. Now, my dear fellow, I have yours, and 
 it is only fair justice you should have mine, and, faith, I feel you'd 
 have discovered it long since, had your thoughts been as free as I 
 have known them to be. Fred, you are in love. There, don't 
 wince, man — I know it ; but hear me out. You believe me to be 
 so also ; nay, more, you think that my chances of success are better, 
 stronger than your own. Learn, then, that I have none— absolutely 
 none. Don't interrupt me now, for this avowal cuts me deeply ; my 
 own heart alone knows what I suffer as I record my wrecked for- 
 tunes. But I repeat it, my hopes are at an end forever ; but, Fred, 
 my boy, I cannot lose my friend too. If I have been the obstacle 
 to your path, I am so no more. Ask me not why ; it is enough that 
 I speak in all truth and sincerity. Ere three days I shall leave this, 
 and with it all the hopes that once beamed upon my fortunes, and 
 all the happiness, — nay, not all, my boy, for I feel some thrill at my 
 heart yet, as I think that I have been true to you." 
 
 I know not what more I spoke, nor how he replied to me. I felt 
 the warm grasp of his hand, I saw his delighted smile ; the words of 
 grateful acknowledgment his lips uttered conveyed but an imper- 
 fect meaning to my ear, and I remembered no more. 
 
 The courage which sustained me for the moment sank gradually 
 
MY CHARGER. 479 
 
 as I meditated over my avowal, and I could scarce help accusing 
 Power of a breach of friendship for exacting a confession which, in 
 reality, I had volunteered to give him. How Lucy herself would 
 think of my conduct was ever recurring to my thoughts, and I feit, 
 as I ruminated upon the conjectures it might give rise to, how 
 much more likely a favorable opinion might now be formed of 
 me than when such an estimation could have crowned me with 
 delight. 
 
 " Yes," thought I ; " she will at last learn to know him who loved 
 her with truth and with devoted affection ; and when the blight of 
 all his hopes is accomplished, the fair fame of his fidelity will be 
 proved. The march, the bivouac, the battle-field, are now all to me, 
 and the campaign alone presents a prospect which may fill up the 
 aching void that disappointed and ruined hopes have left behind 
 them." 
 
 How I longed for the loud call of the trumpet, the clash of the 
 steel, the tramp of the war-horse, though the proud distinction of a 
 soldier's life was less to me in the distance than the mad and 
 whirlwind passion of a charge, and the loud din of the rolling 
 artillery. 
 
 It was only some hours after, as I sat alone in my chamber, that 
 all the circumstances of our meeting came back clearly to my 
 memory, and I could not help muttering to myself: "It is indeed a 
 hard lot, that to cheer the heart of my friend, I must bear witness 
 to the despair that sheds darkness on my own." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MY CHARGER. 
 
 ALTHOUGH I felt my heart relieved of a heavy load by the 
 confession I had made to Power, yet still I shrank from meet- 
 ing him for some days after; a kind of fear lest he should in 
 any way recur to our conversation continually beset me, and I felt 
 that the courage which bore me up for my first effort would desert 
 me on the next occasion. 
 
 My determination to join my regiment was now made up, and I 
 sent forward a resignation of my appointment to Sir George Dash- 
 wood's staff, which I had never been in health to fulfil, and com- 
 menced with energy all my preparations for a speedy departure. 
 The reply to my rather formal letter was a most kind note written 
 
480 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 by himself. He regretted the unhappy cause which had so long 
 separated us, and though wishing, as he expressed it, to have me 
 near him, perfectly approved of my resolution. 
 
 "Active service alone, my dear boy, can ever place you in the 
 position you ought to occupy, and I rejoice the more at your decision 
 in this matter, as I feared the truth of certain reports here, which 
 attributed to you other plans than those which a campaign suggests. 
 My mind is now easy on this score, and I pray you forgive me if my 
 congratulations are mal d propos." 
 
 After some hints for my future management, and a promise of 
 some letters to his friends at head-quarters, he concluded : — 
 
 "As this climate does not seem to suit my daughter, I have ap- 
 plied for a change, and am in daily hope of obtaining it. Before 
 going, however, I must beg your acceptance of the charger which 
 my groom w T ill deliver to your servant with this. I was so struck 
 with his figure and action, that I purchased him before leaving Eng- 
 land, without well knowing why or wherefore. Pray let him see 
 some service under your auspices, which he is most unlikely to do 
 under mine. He has plenty of bone to be a weight-carrier, and they 
 tell me also that he has speed enough for anything." 
 
 Mike's voice in the lawn beneath interrupted my reading further, 
 and on looking out I perceived him and Sir George Dashwood's 
 servant standing beside a large and striking-looking horse, which 
 they were both examining with all the critical accuracy of adepts. 
 
 "Arrah, isn't he a darling, a real beauty, every inch of him?" 
 
 " That 'ere splint don't signify nothing, he aren't the worse of it," 
 said the English groom. 
 
 " Of coorse it doesn't," replied Mike. " What a forehand ! and 
 the legs, clean as a whip." 
 
 " There's the best of him, though," interrupted the other, patting 
 the strong hind-quarters with his hand. " There's the stuff to push 
 him along through heavy ground and carry him over timber." 
 
 " Or a stone wall," said Mike, thinking of Gal way. 
 
 My own impatience to survey my present had now brought me 
 into the conclave, and before many minutes were over I had him 
 saddled, and was cantering around the lawn with a spirit and energy 
 I had not felt for months long. Some small fences lay before me, 
 and over these he carried me with all the ease and freedom of a 
 trained hunter. My courage mounted with the excitement, and I 
 looked eagerly around for some more bold and dashing leap. 
 
 " You may take him over the avenue gate," said the English 
 groom, divining with a jockey's readiness what I looked for ; " he'll 
 do it, never fear him." 
 
 Strange as my equipment was, with an undress jacket flying 
 
MY CHARGER. 481 
 
 loosely open, and a bare head, away I went. The gate which the 
 groom spoke of was a strongly barred one of oak timber, nearly five 
 feet high — its difficulty as a leap only consisted in the winding ap- 
 proach, and the fact that it opened upon a hard road beyond it. 
 
 In a second or two a kind of half fear came across me. My long 
 illness had unnerved me, and my limbs felt weak and yielding ; but 
 as I pressed into the canter, that secret sympathy between the horse 
 and his rider shot suddenly through me, I pressed my spurs to his 
 flanks, and dashed him at it. 
 
 Unaccustomed to such treatment, the noble animal bounded 
 madly forward ; with two tremendous plunges he sprang wildly in 
 the air, and shaking his long mane with passion, stretched out at 
 the gallop. 
 
 My own blood boiled now as tempestuously as his ; and, with a 
 shout of reckless triumph, I rose him at the gate. Just at the 
 instant two figures appeared before it — the copse had concealed 
 their approach hitherto — but they stood now, as if transfixed ; the 
 wild attitude of the horse, the not less wild cry of its rider, had de- 
 prived them for a time of all energy ; and, overcome by the sudden 
 danger, they seemed rooted to the ground. What I said, spoke, 
 begged, or imprecated, Heaven knows — not I. But they stirred not! 
 One moment more and they must lie trampled beneath my horse's 
 hoofs — he was already on his haunches for the bound ; when, wheel- 
 ing half aside, I faced him at the wall. It was at least a foot higher, 
 and of solid stone masonry, and as I did so, I felt I was perilling my 
 life to save theirs. One vigorous dash of the spur I gave him, as I 
 lifted him to the leap — he bounded beneath it quick as lightning — 
 still, with a spring like a rocket, he rose into the air, cleared the 
 wall, and stood trembling and frightened on the road outside. 
 
 " Safe, by Jupiter ! and splendidly done too," cried a voice near 
 me, that I immediately recognized as Sir George Dashwood's. 
 
 " Lucy, my love, look up — Lucy, my dear, there's no danger now. 
 She has fainted. O'Malley, fetch some water — fast. Poor fellow — 
 your own nerves seem shaken. Why, you've let your horse go ! 
 Come here, for Heaven's sake ! — support her for an instant. I'll 
 fetch some water." 
 
 It appeared to me like a dream — I leaned against the pillar of the 
 gate — the cold and death -like features of Lucy Dashwood lay mo- 
 tionless upon my arm — her hand, falling heavily upon my shoulder, 
 touched my cheek— the tramp of my horse, as he galloped onward, 
 was the only sound that broke the silence, as I stood there, gazing 
 steadfastly upon the pale brow and paler cheek, down which a soli- 
 tary tear was slowly stealing. I knew not how the minutes passed — 
 my memory took no note of time ; but at length a gentle tremor 
 31 
 
482 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 thrilled her frame, a slight, scarce-perceptible blush colored her fair 
 face, her lips slightly parted, and heaving a deep sigh, she looked 
 around her. Gradually her eyes turned and met mine. Oh, the 
 bliss unutterable of that moment. It was no longer the look of cold 
 scorn she had given me last — the expression was one of soft and 
 speaking gratitude. She seemed to read my very heart, and know 
 its truth ; there was a tone of deep and compassionate interest in 
 the glance; and forgetting all— everything that had passed— all 
 save my unaltered, unalterable love, I kneeled beside her, and, in 
 words burning as my own heart burned, poured out my tale of min- 
 gled sorrow and affection with all the eloquence of passion. I vin- 
 dicated my unshaken faith — reconciling the conflicting evidences 
 with the proofs I proffered of my attachment. If my moments were 
 measured, I spent them not idly ; I called to witness how every 
 action of my soldier's life emanated from her — how her few and 
 chance words had decided the character of my fate— if aught of fame 
 or honor were my portion, to her I owed it. As, hurried onward 
 by my ardent hopes, I forgot Power and all about him — a step up 
 the gravel walk came rapidly nearer, and I had but time to assume 
 my former attitude beside Lucy as her father came up. 
 
 " Well, Charley, is she better? Oh, I see she is. Here we have 
 the whole household at our heels." So saying, he pointed to a 
 string of servants pressing eagerly forward with every species of 
 restorative that Portuguese ingenuity has invented. 
 
 The next moment we were joined by the Senhora, who, pale with 
 fear, seemed scarcely less in need of assistance than her friend. 
 
 Amid questions innumerable — explanations sought for on all 
 sides — mistakes and misconceptions as to the whole occurrence — we 
 took our way towards the villa, Lucy walking between Sir George 
 and Donna Inez, while I followed, leaning upon Power's arm. 
 
 "They've caught him again, O'Malley," said the General, turn- 
 ing half round to me ; he, too, seemed as much frightened as any 
 of us. 
 
 " It is time, Sir George, I should think of thanking you. I never 
 was so mounted in my life " 
 
 " A splendid charger, by Jove !" said Power ; " but, Charley, my 
 lad, no more feats of this nature, if you love me. No girl's heart 
 will stand such continued assaults as your winning horsemanship 
 submits it to." 
 
 I was about making some half-angry reply, when he continued : 
 
 "There, don't look sulky ; I have news for you. Quill has just 
 arrived ; I met him at Lisbon. He has got leave of absence for a 
 few days, and is coming to our masquerade here this evening." 
 
 " This evening !" said I, in amazement ; "why, is it so soon ?" 
 
MA URICE. 483 
 
 " Of course it is. Have you not got all your trappings ready ? 
 The Dashwoods came out here on purpose to spend the day. But 
 come, I'll drive you into town. My tilbury is ready, and we'll both 
 look out for our costumes." So saying, he led me along towards 
 the house, when, after a rapid change of my toilet, we set out for 
 Lisbon. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 MAURICE. 
 
 IT seemed a conceded matter between Power and myself that 
 we should never recur to the conversation we held in the gar- 
 den, and so, although we dined tete a tete that day, neither of us 
 ventured, by any allusion the most distant, to what it was equally 
 evident was uppermost in the minds of both. 
 
 All our endeavors, therefore, to seem easy and unconcerned were 
 in vain ; a restless anxiety to seem interested about things and per- 
 sons we were totally indifferent to pervaded all our essays at con- 
 versation. By degrees we grew weary of the parts we were acting, 
 and each relapsed into a moody silence, thinking over his plans and 
 projects, and totally forgetting the existence of the other. 
 
 The decanter was passed across the table without speaking, a 
 half nod intimated that the bottle was standing, and except an oc- 
 casional malediction upon an intractable cigar, nothing was heard. 
 
 Such was the agreeable occupation we were engaged in, when, 
 towards nine o'clock, the door opened, and the great Maurice him- 
 self stood before us. 
 
 "Pleasant fellows, upon my conscience, and jovial over their 
 liquor ! Confound your smoking ! That may do very well in a 
 bivouac. Let us have something warm !" 
 
 Quill's interruption was a most welcome one to both parties, and 
 we rejoiced with a sincere pleasure at his coming. 
 
 "What shall it be, Maurice? Port or sherry mulled, and an 
 anchovy ?" 
 
 " Or what say you to a bowl of bishop ?" said I. 
 
 " Hurrah for the Church, Charley ! Let us have the bishop ; and 
 not to disparage Fred's taste, we'll be eating the anchovy while the 
 liquor's concocting." 
 
 "Well, Maurice, and now for the news. How are matters at 
 Torres Vedras ? Anything like movement in that quarter?" 
 
 "Nothing very remarkable. Massena made a reconnaissance 
 
484 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 some days since, and one of our batteries threw a shower of grape 
 among the staff, which spoiled the procession, and sent them back 
 in very disorderly time. Then we've had a few skirmishes to the 
 front, with no great results, a few. courts-martial, bad grub, and 
 plenty of grumbling." 
 
 " Why, what would they have ? It's a great thing to hold the 
 French army in check within a few marches of Lisbon." 
 
 " Charley, my man, who cares twopence for the French army, or 
 Lisbon, or the Portuguese, or the Junta, or anything about it ? — 
 every man is pondering over his own affairs. One fellow wants to get 
 home again and be sent upon some recruiting station. Another wishes 
 to get a step or two in promotion, to come to Torres Vedras, where 
 even the grande arm6e can't. Then some of us are in love, and some 
 of us are in debt. There is neither glory nor profit to be had. But 
 here's the bishop, smoking and steaming with an odor of nectar !" 
 
 " And our fellows, have you seen them lately ?" 
 
 " I dined with yours on Tuesday. — Was it Tuesday ? Yes ; I 
 dined with them. By the bye, Sparks was taken prisoner that 
 morning." 
 
 " Sparks taken prisoner ! Poor fellow ! I am sincerely sorry. 
 How did it happen, Maurice ?" 
 
 " Very simply. Sparks had a forage patrol towards Vieda, and set 
 out early in the morning with his party. It seemed that they suc- 
 ceeded perfectly, and were returning to the lines, when poor 
 Sparks, always susceptible where the sex are concerned, saw, or 
 thought he saw, a lattice gently open as he rode from the village, 
 and a very taper finger make a signal to him. Dropping a little 
 behind the rest, he waited till the men had debouched upon the 
 road, when, riding quietly up, he coughed a couple of times to 
 attract the fair unknown ; a handkerchief waved from the lattice in 
 reply, which was speedily closed, and our valiant Cornet accord- 
 ingly dismounted and entered the house. 
 
 " The remainder of the adventure is soon told, for in a few 
 seconds after, two men mounted on one horse were seen galloping 
 at top speed towards the French lines, — the foremost being a 
 French officer of the 4th Cuirassiers — the gentleman with his face 
 to the tail, our friend Sparks. The lovely unknown was a vieille 
 moustache of Loison's corps, who had been wounded in a skirmish 
 some days before, and lay waiting an opportunity of rejoining his 
 party. One of our prisoners knew the fellow well ; he had been 
 promoted from the ranks, and was an Hercules for feats of strength; 
 so that, after all, Sparks could not help himself." 
 
 " Well, I'm really sorry ; but, as you say, Sparks's tender nature 
 is always the ruin of him." 
 
MA URIGE. 485 
 
 " Of him ! ay, and of you, and of Power, and of myself — of all of 
 us. Isn't it the sweet creatures that make fools of us from Father 
 Adam down to Maurice Quill, neither sparing age nor rank in the 
 service, half-pay, nor the Veteran Battalion — it's all one ? Pass the 
 jug, there. O'Shaughnessy " 
 
 " Ah, by the bye, how's the Major ?" 
 
 " Charmingly ; only a little bit in a scrape just now. Sir Arthur—* 
 Lord Wellington, I mean — had him up for his fellows being caught 
 pillaging, and gave him a devil of a rowing a few days ago. 
 
 " ' Very disorderly corps yours, Major O'Shaughnessy,' said the 
 General ; ' more men up for punishment than any regiment in the 
 service.' 
 
 " Shaugh muttered something ; but his voice was lost in a loud 
 cock-a-doo-do-doo, that some bold chanticleer set up at the 
 moment. 
 
 " ' If the officers do their duty, Major O'Shaughnessy, these acts 
 of insubordination do not occur.' 
 
 " ' Cock-a-doo-do-doo,' was the reply. Some of the staff found it 
 hard not to laugh ; but the General went on : 
 
 " ' If, therefore, the practice does not cease, I'll draft the men 
 into West India regiments.' 
 
 " ■ Cock-a-doo-do-doo.' 
 
 " ' And if any articles pillaged from the inhabitants are detected 
 in the quarters, or about the person of the troops " 
 
 " ' Cock-a-doo-do-doo,' screamed louder here than ever. 
 
 " ' D— that cock. Where is it ?' 
 
 " There was a general look around on all sides, which seemed in 
 vain, when a tremendous repetition of the cry resounded from 
 O'Shaughnessy 's coat pocket, thus detecting the valiant Major him-* 
 self in the very practice of his corps. There was no standing this. 
 Every one burst out into a peal of laughing, and Lord Wellington 
 himself could not resist, but turned away, muttering to himself as 
 he went, ' D — robbers, every man of them !' while a final war-note 
 from the ^Major's pocket closed the interview." 
 
 "Confound you, Maurice, you've always some villainous narrative 
 or other. You never crossed a street for shelter without making 
 something out of it." 
 
 " True this time, as sure as my name's Maurice ; but the bowl is 
 empty." 
 
 " Never mind ; here comes its successor. How long can you stay 
 amongst us ?" 
 
 " A few days at most. Just took a run off to see the sights. I was 
 all over Lisbon this morning; saw the Inquisition and the cells, 
 and the place where they tried the fellows — the kind of grand jury 
 
486 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 room, with the great picture of Adam and Eve at the end of it. 
 What a beautiful creature she is ! hair down to her waist ; and such 
 eyes ! ' Ah, ye darling !' said I to myself, ' small blame to him for 
 what he did. Wouldn't I ate every crab in the garden, if ye asked 
 me V " 
 
 " I must certainly go see her, Maurice. Is she very Portuguese 
 in her style ?" 
 
 " Devil a bit of it. She might be a Limerick woman, with elegant 
 brown hair, and blue eyes, and a skin like snow." 
 
 " Come, come, they've pretty girls in Lisbon too, Doctor." 
 
 " Yes, faith," said Power, " that they have." 
 
 " Nothing like Ireland, boys — not a bit of it ; they're the girls for 
 my money ; and where's the man can resist them? From St. Pat- 
 rick, that had to go and live in the Wicklow mountains " 
 
 " St. Kevin, you mean, Doctor." 
 
 " Sure it's all the same, they were twins. I made a little song 
 about them one evening last week — the women, I mean." 
 
 " Let us have it, Maurice ; let us have it, old fellow. What's the 
 measure ?" 
 
 " Short measure ; four little verses — devil a more." 
 
 " But the time, I mean ?" 
 
 "Whenever you like to sing it; here it is. The air is 'Teddy ye 
 Gander.'" 
 
 " THE GIRLS OF THE WEST." 
 
 * You may talk, if you please, 
 
 Of the brown Portuguese, 
 But, wherever you roam, wherever you roam, 
 
 You nothing will meet 
 
 Half so lovely or sweet 
 As the girls at home, the girls at home. 
 
 " Their eyes are not sloes, 
 
 Nor so long is their nose, 
 But, between me and you, between me and you, 
 
 They are just as alarming, 
 
 And ten times more charming, 
 With hazel and blue, with hazel and blue. 
 
 " They don't ogle a man, 
 
 O'er the top of their fan, 
 'Till his heart's in a flame, his heart's in a flame ; 
 
 But though bashful and shy, 
 
 They've a look in their eye, 
 That just comes to the same, just comes to the same. 
 
 " No mantillas they sport, 
 
 But a petticoat short 
 Shows an ankle the best, an ankle the best, 
 
 And a leg — but, O murther ! 
 
 I dare not go further, 
 So here's to the West : so here's to the West." 
 
MA URICE. 487 
 
 " Now that really is a sweet little thing. Moore's, isn't it." 
 
 " Not a bit of it ; my own muse, every word of it." 
 
 "And the music?" said I. 
 
 " My own, too. Too much spice in that bowl ; that's an invariable 
 error in your devisers of drink, to suppose that the tipple you start 
 with can please your palate to the last ; they forget that as we ad- 
 vance either in years or lush, our tastes simplify." 
 
 "Nous revenons d nos premieres amours. Isn't that it ?" 
 
 "No, not exactly, for we go even further; for if you mark the 
 progression of a sensible man's fluids, you'll find what an emblem 
 of life it presents to you. What is his initiatory glass of ' Chublis' 
 that he throws down with his oysters but the budding expectancy of 
 boyhood — the appetizing sense of pleasure to come; then follows 
 the sherry with his soup, that warming glow which strength and 
 vigor in all their consciousness impart, as a glimpse of life is opening 
 before him. Then youth succeeds — buoyant, wild, tempestuous 
 youth — foaming and sparkling, like the bright champagne, whose 
 stormy surface subsides into a myriad of bright stars." 
 
 "(Eil deperdrix" 
 
 " Not a bit of it ; woman's own eye ; brilliant, sparkling, and life- 
 giving " 
 
 " Devil take the fellow, he's getting poetical." 
 
 " Ah, Fred ! if that could only last ; but one must come to the 
 burgundies with his maturer years. Your first glass of hermitage is 
 the algebraic sign for five-and-thirty — the glorious burst is over ; the 
 pace is still good, to be sure, but the great enthusiasm is past. You 
 can afford to look forward, but, confound it, you've a long way to 
 look back also." 
 
 "I say, Charley, our friend has contrived to finish the bishop 
 during his disquisition ; the bowl's quite empty." 
 
 " You don't say so, Fred. To be sure, how a man does forget 
 himself in abstract speculations ; but let us have a little more — I've 
 not concluded my homily." 
 
 " Not a glass, Maurice ; it's already past nine ; we are all pledged 
 to the masquerade ; before we've dressed and got there, 'twill be late." 
 
 " But I'm not disguised yet, my boy, nor half." 
 
 " Well, they must take you au naturel, as our countrymen do their 
 potatoes." 
 
 " Yes, Doctor, Fred's right ; we had better start." 
 
 " Well, I can't help it ; I've recorded my opposition to the motion, 
 but I must submit ; and now that I'm on my legs, explain to me 
 what's that very dull-looking old lamp up there ?" 
 
 " That's the moon, man — the full moon." 
 
 "Well, I've no objection; I'm full too; so come along, lads." 
 
488 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE MASQUERADE. 
 
 TO form one's impression of a masked ball from the attempts at 
 this mode of entertainment in our country, is but to conceive 
 a most imperfect and erroneous notion. With us the first coup 
 d'ceil is everything ; the nuns, the shepherdesses, the Turks, sailors, 
 eastern princes, watchmen, moonshees, milestones, devils, and 
 Quakers, are all very well in their way as they pass in the review 
 before us, but when we come to mix in the crowd, we discover that 
 except the turban and the cowl, the crook and the broad-brim, no 
 further disguise is attempted or thought of. The nun, forgetting 
 her vow and her vestments, is flirting with the devil ; the watchman, 
 a very fastidious elegant, is ogling the fishwomen through his glass, 
 while the Quaker is performing a pas seul Alberti might be proud of 
 in a quadrille of riotous Turks and half-tipsy Hindoos ; in fact, the 
 whole wit of the scene consists in absurd associations. Apart from 
 this, the actors have rarely any claims upon your attention ; for even 
 supposing a person clever enough to sustain his character, whatever 
 it be, you must also supply the other personages of the drama, or, in 
 stage phrase, he'll have nothing to " play up to." What would be 
 Bardolph without Pistol? what Sir Lucius O'Trigger without Acres? 
 It is the relief which throws out the disparities and contradictions 
 of life that afford us most amusement ; hence it is that one swallow 
 can no more make a summer than one well-sustained character can 
 give life to a masquerade. Without such sympathies, such points of 
 contact, all the leading features of the individual, making him act 
 and be acted upon, are lost; the characters being mere parallel 
 lines, which, however near they approach, never bisect or cross each 
 other. 
 
 This is not the case abroad. The domino, which serves for mere 
 concealment, is almost the only dress assumed, and the real disguise 
 is therefore thrown from necessity upon the talents, whatever they 
 be, of the wearer. It is no longer a question of a beard or a spangled 
 mantle, a Polish dress or a pasteboard nose ; the mutation of voice, 
 the assumption of a different manner, walk, gesture, and mode of 
 expression, are all necessary, and no small tact is required to effect 
 this successfully. 
 
 I may be pardoned this little digression, as it serves to explain in 
 some measure how I felt on entering the splendidly lit-up salons of 
 the villa, crowded with hundreds of figures in all the varied cos- 
 tumes of a carnival. The sounds of laughter, mingled with the crash 
 of the music ; the hurrying hither and thither of servants with re- 
 
THE MASQUERADE. 489 
 
 freshments ; the crowds gathered around fortune-tellers, whose pre- 
 dictions threw the parties at each moment into shouts of merriment; 
 the eager following of some disappointed domino, interrogating every- 
 one to find out a lost mask. For some time I stood an astonished 
 spectator at the kind of secret intelligence which seemed to pervade 
 the whole assemblage, when suddenly a mask, who for some time 
 had been standing beside me, whispered in French, — 
 
 " If you pass your time in this manner, you must not feel sur 
 prised if your place be occupied." 
 
 I turned hastily round, but she was gone. She, I say, for the 
 voice was clearly a woman's ; her pink domino could be no guide, 
 for hundreds of the same color passed me every instant ; the mean- 
 ing of the allusion I had little doubt of. I turned to speak to 
 Power, but he was gone ; and for the first moment of my life the 
 bitterness of rivalry crossed my mind. It was true I had resigned 
 all pretensions in his favor ; my last meeting with Lucy had been 
 merely to justify my own character against an impression that 
 weighed heavily on me ; still I thought he might have waited ; an- 
 other day and I should be far away, neither to witness nor grieve 
 over his successes. 
 
 "You still hesitate," whispered some one near me. 
 
 I wheeled round suddenly, but could not detect the speaker, and 
 was again relapsing into my own musings, when the same voice 
 repeated, — 
 
 " The white domino with the blue cape. Adieu." 
 
 Without waiting to reflect upon the singularity of the occurrence, 
 I now hurried along through the dense crowd, searching on every 
 side for the domino. 
 
 " Isn't that O'Malley?" said an Englishman to his friend. 
 
 " Yes," replied the other ; " the very man we want. O'Malley, 
 find a partner ; we have been searching a vis-a-vis this ten min- 
 utes." 
 
 The speaker was an officer I had met at Sir George Dashwood's. 
 
 " How did you discover me ?" said I, suddenly. 
 
 " Not a very difficult thing, if you carry your mask in your hand 
 that way," was the answer. 
 
 And now I perceived that in the abstraction of my thoughts I 
 had been carrying my mask in this manner since my coming into 
 the room. 
 
 " There now, what say you to the blue domino ? I saw her foot, 
 and a girl with such an instep must be a waltzer." 
 
 I looked round, a confused effort at memory passing across my 
 mind ; my eyes fell at the instant upon the embroidered sleeve of 
 the domino, where a rosebud worked in silver at once reminded me 
 
490 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 of Catrina's secret. "Ah !" thought I, " la Senhora herself!" She 
 was leaning upon the arm of a tall and portly figure in black ; who 
 this was I knew not, nor sought to discover, but at once advancing 
 towards Donna Inez, asked her to waltz. 
 
 Without replying to me, she turned towards her companion, who 
 seemed, as it were, to press her acceptance of my offer ; she hesi- 
 tated, however, for an instant, and, curtseying deeply, declined it. 
 " Well," thought I, " she at least has not recognized me." 
 
 "And yet, Senhora," said I, half jestingly, " I have seen you join 
 a bolero before now." 
 
 " You evidently mistake me," was the reply, but in a voice so 
 well feigned as almost to convince me she was right. 
 
 " Nay, more," said I, " under your own fair auspices did I myself 
 first adventure one." 
 
 " Still in error, believe me ; I am not known to you." 
 
 "And yet I have a talisman to refresh your memory, should you 
 dare me further." 
 
 At this instant my hand was grasped warmly by a passing mask. 
 I turned round rapidly, and Power whispered in my ear, — 
 
 "Yours forever, Charley; you've made my fortune." 
 
 As he hurried on, I could perceive that he supported a lady on his 
 arm, and that she wore a loose white domino with a deep blue cape. 
 In a second all thought of Inez was forgotten, and anxious only to 
 conceal my emotion, I turned away and mingled with the crowd. 
 Lost to all around me, I wandered carelessly, heedlessly on, neither 
 noticing the glittering throng around, nor feeling a thought in com- 
 mon with the gay and joyous spirits that flitted by. The night wore 
 on, my melancholy and depression growing ever deeper; yet so 
 spell-bound was I that I could not leave the place. A secret sense 
 that it was the last time we were to meet had gained entire posses- 
 sion of me, and I longed to speak a few words ere we parted for- 
 ever. 
 
 I was leaning at a window which looked out upon the court-yard, 
 when suddenly the tramp of horses attracted my attention, and I 
 saw by the clear moonlight a group of mounted men, whose long 
 cloaks and tall helmets announced dragoons, standing around the 
 porch. At the same moment the door of the saloon opened, and an 
 officer in undress, splashed and travel-stained, entered. Making his 
 way rapidly through the crowd, he followed the servant who intro- 
 duced him towards the supper-room. Thither the dense mass now 
 pressed to learn the meaning of the singular apparition, while my 
 own curiosity, not less excited, led me towards the door; as I crossed 
 the hall, however, my progress was interrupted by a group of per- 
 sons, among whom I saw an aide-de-camp of Lord Wellington's 
 
THE MASQUERADE. 491 
 
 staff, narrating, as it were, some piece of newly-arrived intelligence. 
 I had no time for further inquiry, when a door opened near me, and 
 Sir George Dashwood, accompanied by several general officers, came 
 forth, the officer I had first seen enter the ball-room along with them. 
 Every one was by this unmasked, and eagerly looking to hear what 
 had occurred. 
 
 " Then, Dashwood, you'll send off an orderly at once ?" said an 
 old general officer beside me. 
 
 "This instant, my lord. I'll despatch an aide-de-camp. The 
 troops shall be in marching order before noon. Oh, here's the man I 
 want! O'Malley, come here. Mount your horse and dash into 
 town. Send for Brotherton and McGregor to quarters, and announce 
 the news as quickly as possible." 
 
 " But what am I to announce, Sir George ?" 
 
 " That the French are in retreat — Massena in retreat, my lad." 
 
 A tremendous cheer at this instant burst from the hundreds in the 
 salon, who now heard the glorious tidings. Another cheer and an- 
 other followed — ten thousand vivas rose amid the crash of the band, 
 as it broke into a patriotic war chant. Such a scene of enthusiasm 
 and excitment I had never witnessed. Some wept for joy. Others 
 threw themselves into their friends' arms. 
 
 "They're all mad, every mother's son of them!" said Maurice 
 Quill, as he elbowed his way through the mass ; " and here's an old 
 vestal won't leave my arm. She has already embraced me three 
 times, and we've finished a flask of Malaga between us." 
 
 " Come, O'Malley, are you ready for the road ?" 
 
 My horse was by this time standing saddled at the front. I sprang 
 at once to the saddle, and, without waiting for a second order, set 
 out for Lisbon. Ten minutes had scarce elapsed — the very shouts 
 of joy of the delighted city were still ringing in my ears — when I 
 was once again back at the villa. As I mounted the steps into the 
 hall, a carriage drew up ; it was Sir George Dashwood's ; he came 
 forward — his daughter leaning upon his arm. 
 
 " Why, O'Malley, I thought you had gone." 
 
 " I have returned, Sir George. Colonel Brotherton is in waiting, 
 and the staff also. I have received orders to set out for Benejos, 
 where the 14th are stationed, and have merely delayed to say 
 adieu." 
 
 "Adieu, my dear boy, and God bless you !" said the warm-hearted 
 old man, as he pressed my hand between both his. " Lucy, here's 
 your old friend about to leave ; come and say good-bye." 
 
 Miss Dashwood had stopped behind to adjust her shawl. I flew 
 to her assistance. "Adieu, Miss Dashwood, and forever !" said I, in 
 a broken voice, as I took her hand in mine. " This is not your 
 
492 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 domino," said I eagerly, as a blue silk one peeped from beneath her 
 mantle ; " and the sleeve, too — did you wear this ?" She blushed 
 slightly, and assented. 
 
 " I changed with the Senhora, who wore mine all the evening." 
 
 " And Power, then, was not your partner ?" 
 
 " I should think not — for I never danced." 
 
 " Lucy, my love, are you ready ? Come, be quick." 
 
 "Good-bye, Mr. O'Malley, and au revoir, n' est-ce pas f" 
 
 I drew her glove from her hand as she spoke, and, pressing my 
 lips upon her ringers, placed her within the carriage. "Adieu, and 
 au revoir!" said I ; the carriage turned away, and a white glove was 
 all that remained to me of Lucy Dashwood ! 
 
 The carriage had turned the angle of the road, and its retiring 
 sounds were growing gradually fainter, ere I recovered myself suffi- 
 ciently to know where I stood. One absorbing thought alone pos- 
 sessed me. Lucy was not lost to me forever ; Power was not my 
 rival in that quarter — that was enough for me. I needed no more 
 to nerve my arm and steel my heart. As I reflected thus, the long 
 loud blast of a trumpet broke upon the silence of the night, and 
 admonished me to depart. I hurried to my room to make my few 
 preparations for the road, but Mike had already anticipated every- 
 thing here, and all was in readiness. 
 
 But one thing now remained — to make my adieu to the Senhora. 
 With this intent, I descended a narrow winding stair which led 
 from my dressing-room, and opened by a little terrace upon the 
 flower-garden beside her apartments. 
 
 As I crossed the gravelled alley, I could not but think of the last 
 time I had been there. It was on the eve of departure for the 
 Douro. I recalled the few and fleeting moments of our leave- 
 taking, and a thought flashed upon me — what if she cared for me! 
 — what if, half in coquetry, half in reality, her heart was mixed up 
 in those passages which daily associations give rise to ? 
 
 I could not altogether acquit myself of all desire to make her 
 believe me her admirer ; nay, more, with the indolent abandon of 
 my country, I had fallen into a thousand little schemes to cheat the 
 long hours away, which having no other object than the happiness 
 of the moment, might yet color all her after-life with sorrow. 
 
 Let no one rashly pronounce me a coxcomb, vain and pretentious, 
 for all this. In my inmost heart I had no feeling of selfishness 
 mingled with the consideration. It was from no sense of my own 
 merits, no calculation of my own chances of success, that I thought 
 thus. Fortunately, at eighteen one's heart is uncontaminated with 
 such an alloy of vanity. The first emotions of youth are pure and 
 holy things, tempering our fiercer passions, and calming the rude 
 
THE MASQUERADE. 493 
 
 effervescence of our boyish spirit ; and when we strive to please, and 
 hope to win affection, we insensibly fashion ourselves to nobler and 
 higher thoughts, catching from the source of our devotion a portion 
 of that charm that idealizes daily life, and makes our path in it a 
 glorious and a bright one. 
 
 Who would not exchange all the triumph of his later days, the 
 proudest moments of successful ambition, the richest trophies of 
 hard-won daring, for the short and vivid flash that first shot through 
 his heart and told him he was loved? It is the opening conscious- 
 ness of life, the first sense of power, that makes of the mere boy a 
 man — a man in all his daring and his pride — and hence it is that 
 in early life we feel ever prone to indulge those fancied attachments 
 which elevate and raise us in our own esteem. Such was the frame 
 of my mind as I entered the little boudoir, where once before I had 
 ventured on a similar errand. 
 
 As I closed the sash-door behind me, the gray dawn of breaking 
 day scarcely permitted my seeing anything around me, and I felt 
 my way towards the door of an adjoining room, where I supposed it 
 was likely I should find the Senhora. As I proceeded thus with 
 cautious step and beating heart, I thought I heard a sound near me. 
 I stopped and listened, and was again about to move on, when a 
 half-stifled sob fell upon my ear. Slowly and silently guiding my 
 steps towards the sounds, I reached a sofa, when, my eyes growing 
 by degrees more accustomed to the faint light, I could detect a 
 figure which, at a glance, I recognized as Donna Inez. A cashmere 
 shawl was loosely thrown round her, and her face was buried in her 
 hands. As she lay, to all seeming, still and insensible before me, 
 her beautiful hair fell heavily upon her back and across her arm, 
 and her whole attitude denoted the very abandonment of grief. A 
 short convulsive shudder which slightly shook her frame alone gave 
 evidence of life, except when a sob, barely audible, in the death- 
 like silence, escaped her. 
 
 I knelt silently down beside her, and, gently withdrawing her 
 hand, placed it within mine. A dreadful feeling of self-condemna- 
 tion shot through me as I felt the gentle pressure of her taper 
 fingers, which rested without a struggle in my grasp. My tears fell 
 hot and fast upon that pale hand, as I bent in sadness over it, 
 unable to utter a word. A rush of conflicting thoughts passed 
 through my brain, and I knew not what to do. I now had no doubt 
 Upon my mind that she loved me, and that her present affliction 
 was caused by my approaching departure. 
 
 "Dearest Inez!" I stammered out at length, as I pressed her 
 hands to my lips; "dearest Inez!" — a faint sob, and a slight pres- 
 sure of her hand, was the only reply. " I have come to say good- 
 
494 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 bye," continued I, gaining a little courage as I spoke; "a long 
 good-bye, too, in all likelihood. You have heard that we are 
 ordered away, — there, don't sob, dearest, and, believe me, I had 
 wished ere we parted to have spoken to you calmly and openly ; 
 but alas ! I cannot, — I scarcely know what I say." 
 
 " You will not forget me ?" said she, in a low voice, that sank into 
 my very heart. " You will not forget me ?" As she spoke, her 
 hand dropped heavily upon my shoulder, and her rich luxuriant 
 hair fell upon my cheek. What a devil of a thing is proximity to 
 a downy cheek and a black eyelash, more especially when they be- 
 long to one whom you are disposed to believe not indifferent to you ! 
 What I did at this precise moment there is no necessity for record- 
 ing, even had not an adage interdicted such confessions, nor can I 
 now remember what I said ; but I can well recollect how, gradually 
 warming with my subject, I entered into a kind of half-declaration 
 of attachment, intended most honestly to be a mere expose of my 
 own unworthiness to win her favor, and my resolution to leave 
 Lisbon and its neighborhood forever. 
 
 Let not any one blame me rashly if he has not experienced the 
 difficulty of my position. The impetus of love-making is like the 
 ardor of a fox-hunt. You care little that the six-bar gate before 
 you is the boundary of another gentleman's preserves or the fence 
 of his pleasure-ground. You go slap along at a smashing pace, with 
 your head up, and your hand low, clearing all before you, the oppo- 
 sing difficulties to your progress giving half the zest, because all the 
 danger, to your career. So it is with love. The gambling spirit 
 urges one ever onward, and the chance of failure is a reason for 
 pursuit, where no other argument exists. 
 
 "And you do love me?" said the Senhora, with a soft, low whisper, 
 that most unaccountably suggested anything but comfort to me. 
 
 " Love you, Inez ? By this kiss — I'm in an infernal scrape !" said 
 I, muttering this last half of my sentence to myself. 
 
 "And you'll never be jealous again?" 
 
 " Never, by all that's lovely ! — your own sweet lips. That's the 
 very last thing to reproach me with." 
 
 "And you promise me not to mind that foolish boy? For, after 
 all, you know it was mere flirtation — if even that." 
 
 " I'll never think of him again," said I, while my brain was 
 burning to make out her meaning. " But, dearest, there goes the 
 trumpet-call " 
 
 " And, as for Pedro Mascarenhas, I never liked him." 
 
 "Are you quite sure, Inez?" 
 
 " I swear it ! — so no more of him. Gonzales Cordenza — I've broke 
 with him long since. So that you see, dearest Frederic " 
 
THE MASQUERADE. 495 
 
 * Frederic I" said I, starting almost to my feet with amazement, 
 while she continued : — 
 
 " I'm your own — all your own !" 
 
 "Oh! the coquette, the heartless jilt!" groaned I, half aloud. 
 " And O'Malley, Inez, poor Charley I — what of him ?" 
 
 "Poor thing! I can't help him. But he's such a puppy, the 
 lesson may do him good." 
 
 " But perhaps he loved you, Inez ?" 
 
 " To be sure he did ; I wished him to do so, — I can't bear not to be 
 loved. But, Frederic, tell me, may I trust you — will you keep faith- 
 ful to me ?" 
 
 " Sweetest Inez ! by this last kiss I swear, that such as I kneel 
 before you now, you'll ever find me." 
 
 A foot upon the gravel-walk without now called me to my feet. I 
 sprang towards the door, and before Inez had lifted her head from 
 the sofa, I had reached the garden. A figure muffled in a cavalry 
 cloak passed near me, but without noticing me, and the next mo- 
 ment I had cleared the paling, and was hurrying towards the stable, 
 where I had ordered Mike to be in waiting. 
 
 The faint streak of dull pink which announces the coming day, 
 stretched beneath the dark clouds of the night, and the chill air of 
 the morning was already stirring in the leaves. 
 
 As I passed along by a low beech hedge which skirted the avenue, 
 I was struck by the sound of voices near me. I stopped to listen, 
 and soon detected in one of the speakers my friend Mickey Free ; 
 of the other I was not long in ignorance. 
 
 " Love you, is it — bathershin ? It's worship you — adore you, my 
 darling — that's the word — there, acushla, don't cry — dry your eyes — 
 oh, murther ! it's a cruel thing to tear one's self away from the best 
 of living, with the run of the house in drink and kissing. Bad luck 
 to it for campaigning, anyway, I. never liked it!" 
 
 Catrina's reply,— for it was she— I could not gather j but Mike 
 resumed : — 
 
 "Ay, J us t so, sore bones and wet grass, accadente and half rations. 
 Oh, that I ever saw the day when I took to it ! Listen to me now, 
 honey ; here it is, on my knees I am before you, and throth it's not 
 more nor three, maybe four, young women I'd say the like to ; bad 
 scran to me if I wouldn't marry you out of a face this blessed morn- 
 ing just as soon as I'd look at ye. Arrah, there now, don't be 
 screeching and bawling ; what'll the neighbors think of us, and my 
 own heart's destroyed with grief entirely." 
 
 Poor Catrina's voice returned an inaudible answer, and not wishing 
 any longer to play the eavesdropper, I continued my path towards 
 the stable. The distant noises from the city announced a state of 
 
496 CHARLES 'M ALLEY. 
 
 movement and preparation, and more than one orderly passed the 
 road near me at a gallop. As I turned into the wide court-yard, 
 Mike, breathless and flurried with running, overtook me. 
 
 "Are the horses ready, Mike?" said I; "we must start this 
 instant." 
 
 " They've just finished a peck of oats apiece, and faix that same 
 may be a stranger to them this day six months." 
 
 " And the baggage, too ?" 
 
 " On the cars, with the staff and the light brigade. It was down 
 there I was now, to see all was right." 
 
 " Oh, I'm quite aware ; and now bring out the cattle. I hope 
 Catrina received your little consolations well. That seems a very 
 sad affair." 
 
 " Murder, real murder, devil a less ! It's no matter where you go, 
 from Clonmel to Chayney, it's all one ; they've a way of getting 
 round you. Upon my soul, it's like the pigs they are." 
 
 " Like pigs, Mike ? That appears a strange compliment you've 
 selected to pay them." 
 
 " Ay, just like the pigs, no less. Maybe you never heard what 
 happened to myself up at Moronha ?" 
 
 " Look to that girth there. Well, go on." 
 
 " I was coming along one morning just as day was beginning to 
 break, when I sees a slip of a pig trotting before me > with nobody 
 near him ; but as the road was lonely, and myself rather down in 
 heart, I thought, Musha ! but yer fine company, anyhow, av a body 
 could only keep you with him. But, ye see, a pig — saving your 
 presence — is a baste not easily flattered, so I didn't waste time and 
 blarney upon him, but I took off my belt and put it round its neck 
 as neat as need be ; but as the devil's luck would have it, I didn't go 
 half an hour when a horse came galloping up behind me. I turned 
 round, and by the blessed light, it was Sir Dinny himself was on it!" 
 
 "Sir Dennis Pack?" 
 
 " Yes, bad luck to his hook nose. ' What are you doing there, my 
 fine fellow V says he. ' What's that you have dragging there behind 
 you V 
 
 " ' A boneen, sir,' says I. ' Isn't he a fine crayture ? — av he wasn't 
 so troublesome.' 
 
 " ' Troublesome, troublesome — what do you mean?' 
 
 " ' Just so,' says I. 'Isn't he parsecuting the life out of me the 
 whole mornin', following me about everywhere I go? Contrary 
 bastes they always was.' 
 
 " ' I advise you to try and part company, my friend, notwith~ 
 standing,' says he ; 'or maybe it's the same end you'll be coming to,, 
 and not long either.' And, faix, I took his advice ; and ye see ? 
 
THE LINES. 497 
 
 Mister Charles, it's just as I was saying, they're like the women, the 
 least thing in life is enough to bring them after us, av ye only put 
 the ' comether' upon them." 
 
 " And now adieu to the Villa Nuova," said I, as I rode slowly down 
 the avenue, turning ever and anon in my saddle to look back on 
 each well-known spot. 
 
 A heavy sigh from Mike responded to my words. 
 
 " A long, a last farewell !" said I, waving my hand towards the 
 trellised walls, now half hidden by the trees ; and as I spoke, that 
 heaviness of the heart came over me that seems inseparable from 
 leave-taking. The hour of parting seems like a warning to us 
 that all our enjoyments and pleasures here are destined to a short 
 and merely fleeting existence ; and, as each scene of life passes away 
 never to return, we are made to feel that youth and hope are passing 
 with them ; and that, although the fair world be as bright, and its 
 pleasures as rich in abundance, our capacity of enjoyment is daily, 
 hourly diminishing ; and while all around us smiles in beauty and 
 happiness, that we, alas ! are not what we were. 
 
 Such was the tenor of my thoughts as I reached the road, when 
 they were suddenly interrupted by my man Mike, whose medita- 
 tions were following a somewhat similar channel, though at last 
 inclining to different conclusions. He coughed a couple of times, 
 as if to attract my attention, and then, as it were half thinking 
 aloud, he muttered : — 
 
 " I wonder if we treated the young ladies well> anyhow, Mister 
 Charles, for, faix, I've my doubts on it." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE LINES. 
 
 WHEN we reached Lescas, we found that an officer of Lord 
 Wellington's staff had just arrived from the lines, and was 
 occupied in making known the general order from head- 
 quarters ; this set forth, with customary brevity, that the French 
 armies, under the command of Massena, had retired from their posi- 
 tion, and were in full retreat ; the second and third corps which had 
 been stationed at Villa Franca, having marched during the night of 
 the 15th, in the direction of Manal. The officers in command of 
 divisions were ordered to repair instantly to Pero Negro to consult 
 upon a forward movement, Admiral Berkeley being written to to pro- 
 32 
 
498 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 vide launches to pass over General Hill's, or any other corps which 
 might be selected, to the left bank of the Tagus. All was now ex- 
 citement, heightened by the unexpected nature of an occurrence 
 which not even speculation had calculated upon. It was but a few 
 days before, and the news had reached Torres Vedras that a power- 
 ful reinforcement was in march to join Massena's army, and their 
 advanced guard had actually reached Santarem. The confident 
 expectation was, therefore, that an attack upon the lines was medi- 
 tated. Now, however, this prospect existed no longer ; for scarcely 
 had the heavy mists of the lowering day disappeared, when the vast 
 plain, so lately peopled by the thickened ranks and dark masses' of 
 a great army, was seen in its whole extent deserted and untenanted. 
 
 The smouldering fires of the pickets alone marked where the 
 troops had been posted, but not a man of that immense force was to 
 be seen. General Fane, who had been despatched with a brigade of 
 Portuguese cavalry and, some artillery, hung upon the rear of the 
 retiring army, and from him we learned that the enemy were con- 
 tinuing their retreat northward, having occupied Santarem with a 
 strong force to cover the movement. Craufurd was ordered to the 
 front with the light division, the whole army following in the same 
 direction, except Hill's corps, which, crossing the river at Velada, 
 was intended to harass the enemy's flank, and assist our future 
 operations. 
 
 Such, in brief, was the state of affairs when I reached Villa Franca 
 towards noon, and received orders to join my regiment, then form- 
 ing part of Sir Stapleton Cotton's brigade. 
 
 It must be felt, to be thoroughly appreciated, the enthusiastic 
 pleasure with which one greets his old corps after some months of 
 separation ; the bounding ecstasy with which the weary eye rests 
 on the old familiar faces, dear by every association of affection and 
 brotherhood ; the anxious look for this one, and for that; the thrill 
 of delight sent through the heart as the well-remembered march 
 swells upon the ear ; the very notes of that rough voice which we 
 have heard amid the crash of battle and the rolling of artillery, 
 speaks softly to our senses, like a father's welcome ; from the well- 
 tattered flag that waves above us, to the proud steed of the war-worn 
 trlimpeter — each has a niche in our affections. 
 
 If ever there was a corps calculated to increase and foster these 
 sentiments, the 14th Light Dragoons was such. The warm affection, 
 the truly heartfelt regard, which existed among my brother officers 
 made of our mess a happy home. Our veteran Colonel, grown gray 
 in campaigning, was like a father to us ; while the senior officers, 
 tempering the warm blood of impetuous youth with their hard-won 
 experience, threw a charm of peace and tranquillity over all our 
 
THE LINES. 499 
 
 intercourse that made us happy when together, and taught us to feel 
 that, whether seated around the watch-fire, or charging amid the 
 squadrons of the enemy, we were surrounded by those devoted heart 
 and soul to aid us. 
 
 Gallant 14th I — ever first in every gay scheme of youthful jollity, 
 as foremost in the van to meet the foe — how happy am I to recall 
 the memory of your bright looks and bold hearts ! — of your manly 
 daring and your bold frankness — of your merry voices, as I have 
 heard them in the battle or in the bivouac! Alas, and alas ! that I 
 should indulge such recollections alone ! How few — how very few — 
 are left of those with whom I trod the early steps of life ! whose bold 
 cheer I have heard above the clashing sabres of the enemy — whose 
 broken voice I have listened to above the grave of a comrade ! The 
 dark pines of the Pyrenees wave over some, the burning sands of 
 India cover others, and the wide plans of Salamanca are now your 
 abiding-places. 
 
 " Here comes O'Malley !" shouted a well-known voice, as I rode 
 down the little slope, at the foot of which a group of officers were 
 standing beside their horses. 
 
 " Welcome, thou man of Gal way !" cried Hampden.; " delighted 
 to have you once more amongst us. How confoundedly well the 
 fellow is looking !" 
 
 " Lisbon beef seems better prog than commissariat biscuit !" said 
 another. 
 
 "A'weel, Charley !" said my friend, the Scotch Doctor; " how's 
 a' wi' ye, man ? Ye seem to thrive on your mishaps ! How cam' 
 ye by that braw beastie ye're mounted on ?" 
 
 "A present, Doctor ; the gift of a very warm friend." 
 
 "I hope you invited him to the mess, O'Malley ! For, by Jove, 
 our stables stand in need of his kind offices ! There he goes ! Look 
 at him ! What a slashing pace for a heavy fellow !" This observa- 
 tion w r as made with reference to a well-known officer on the Com- 
 mander-in-Chiefs staff, whose weight — some two-and-twenty stone — 
 was never any impediment to his bold riding. 
 
 " Egad, O'Malley, you'll soon be as pretty a light-weight as our 
 friend yonder. Ah I there's a storm going on there ! Here comes 
 the Colonel !" 
 
 " Well, O'Malley, are you come back to us ? Happy to see you, 
 boy ! — hope we shall not lose you again in a hurry ! — We can't spare 
 the scapegraces ! There's plenty of skirmishing going on ! — Crau- 
 furd always asks for the scapegraces for the pickets !" 
 
 I shook my gallant Colonel's hand, while I acknowledged, as best 
 I might, his ambiguous compliment. 
 
 "I say, lads," resumed the Colonel, "squad your men and form 
 
500 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 on the road ! Lord Wellington's coming down this way to have a 
 look at you ! O'Malley, I have General Craufurd's orders to offer 
 you your old appointment on his staff; without you prefer remain- 
 ing with the regiment." 
 
 " I can never be sufficiently grateful, sir, to the General ; but, in 
 fact — I think — that is, I believe " 
 
 " You'd rather be among your own fellows. Out with it, boy ! 
 I like you all the better ! but come, we mustn't let the General 
 know that; so that I shall forget to tell you all about it. Eh? 
 isn't that best? But join your troop now; I hear the staff coming 
 this way." 
 
 As he spoke a crowd of horsemen were seen advancing towards us 
 at a sharp trot ; their waving plumes and gorgeous aiguillettes de- 
 noting their rank as generals of division. In the midst, as they 
 came nearer, I could distinguish one whom, once seen, there was no 
 forgetting ; his plain blue frock and his gray trousers unstrapped 
 beneath his boots, not a little unlike the trim accuracy of costume 
 around him. As he rode to the head of the leading squadron, the 
 staff fell back and he stood alone before us ; for a second there was 
 a dead silence, but the next instant — by what impulse tell who can — 
 one tremendous cheer burst from the entire regiment. It was like 
 the act of one man — so sudden, so spontaneous. While every 
 cheek glowed, and every eye sparkled with enthusiasm, he alone 
 seemed cool and unexcited, as gently raising his hand, he motioned 
 them to silence. 
 
 " Fourteenth, you are to be where you always desire to be — in the 
 advanced guard of the army. I have nothing to say on the subject 
 of your conduct in the field. I know you; but if, in pursuit of the 
 enemy, I hear of any misconduct towards the people of the country, 
 or any transgression of the general orders regarding pillage, by G — , 
 I'll punish you as severely as the worst corps in the service, and you 
 know me." 
 
 " Oh ! tear an' ages, listen to that ; and there's to be no plunder 
 after all !" said Mickey Free ; and for an instant the most I could 
 do was not to burst into a fit of laughter. The word " Forward !" 
 was given at the moment, and we moved past in close column, while 
 that penetrating eye, which seemed to read our very thoughts, 
 scanned us from one end of the line to the other. 
 
 "I say, Charley," said the captain of my troop in a whisper — "I 
 say, that confounded cheer we gave got us that lesson ; he can't stand 
 that kind of thing." 
 
 " By Jove ! I never felt more disposed than to repeat it," said I. 
 
 " No, no, my boy, we'll give him the honors, nine times nine; but 
 wait till evening. Look at old Merivale there. I'll swear he's say- 
 
THE RETREAT OF THE FRENCH. 501 
 
 ing something devilish civil to him. Do you see the old fellow's 
 happy look ?" 
 
 And so it was ; the bronzed, hard-east features of the veteran sol- 
 dier were softened into an expression of almost boyish delight, as he 
 sat bare-headed, bowing to his very saddle, while Lord Wellington 
 was speaking. 
 
 As I looked, my heart throbbed painfully against my side, my 
 breath came quick, and I muttered to myself, " What would I not 
 give to be in his place now !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE RETREAT OF THE FRENCH. 
 
 IT is not my intention, were I even adequate to the task, to trace 
 with anything like accuracy the events of the war at this period. 
 In fact, to those who, like myself, were performing a mere sub- 
 altern character, the daily movements of our own troops, not to speak 
 of the continual changes of the enemy, were perfectly unknown, and 
 an English newspaper was more ardently longed for in the Penin- 
 sula than by the most eager crowd of a London coffee-room ; nay, 
 the results of the very engagements we were ourselves concerned in, 
 more than once, first reached us through the press of our own country. 
 It is easy enough to understand this. The officer in command of the 
 regiment, and, how much more the captain of a troop, or the sub- 
 altern under him, knows nothing beyond the sphere of his own 
 immediate duty: by the success or failure of his own party his 
 knowledge is bounded, but how far he or his may influence the for- 
 tune of the day, or of what is taking place elsewhere, he is totally 
 ignorant ; and an old 14th man did not badly explain his ideas on 
 the matter who described Busaco as " a great noise and a great 
 smoke, booming artillery and rattling small-arms, infernal confu- 
 sion, and, to all seeming, incessant blundering, orders and counter- 
 orders, ending with a crushing charge, when, not being hurt himself 
 nor having hurt anybody, he felt much pleased to learn that they 
 had gained a victory." It is, then, sufficient for all the purposes of 
 my narrative when I mention that Massena continued his retreat by 
 Santarem and Thomar, followed by the allied army, who, however 
 desirous of pressing upon the rear of their enemy, were still obliged 
 to maintain their communication with the lines, and at the same 
 time to watch the movement of the large armies which, under Ney 
 
502 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 and Soult, threatened at any unguarded moment to attack them in 
 flank. 
 
 The position which Massena occupied at Santarem, naturally one 
 of great strength, and further improved by intrenchments, defied 
 any attack on the part of Lord Wellington, until the arrival of the 
 long-expected reinforcements from England. These had sailed in 
 the early part of January, but, delayed by adverse winds, only 
 reached Lisbon on the 2d of March, and so correctly was the French 
 Marshal apprised of the circumstance, and so accurately did he 
 anticipate the probable result, that on the 4th he broke up his 
 encampment, and recommenced his retrograde movement, with an 
 army now reduced to forty thousand fighting men, and with two 
 thousand sick, destroying all his baggage and guns that could not 
 be horsed. By a demonstration of advancing upon the Zezere, by 
 which he held the allies in check, he succeeded in passing his 
 wounded to the rear, while Ney, appearing with a large force sud- 
 denly at Leiria, seemed bent upon attacking the lines. By these 
 stratagems two days' march were gained, and the French retreated 
 upon Torres Novas and Thomar, destroying the bridges behind 
 them as they passed. 
 
 The day was breaking, on the 12th of March, when the British 
 first came in sight of the retiring enemy. We were then ordered 
 to the front, and, broken up into small parties, threw out our skir- 
 mishers. The French chasseurs, usually not indisposed to accept 
 this species of encounter, showed now less of inclination than usual, 
 and either retreated before us or hovered in masses to check our 
 advance. In this way the morning was passed, when towards noon 
 we perceived that the enemy was drawn up in battle array, occupy- 
 ing the height above the village of Redinha. This little straggling 
 village is situated in a hollow, traversed by a narrow causeway, 
 which opens by a long and dangerous defile upon a bridge, on 
 either side of which a dense wood afforded a shelter for light troops, 
 while upon the commanding eminence above a battery of heavy 
 guns was seen in position. 
 
 In front of the village a brigade of artillery and a division of in- 
 fantry were drawn up so skilfully as to give the appearance of a 
 considerable force, so that when Lord Wellington came up, he spent 
 some time in examining the enemy's position, Erskine's brigade 
 was immediately ordered up, and the 52d and 94th, and a company 
 of the 43d, were led against the wooded slopes upon the French 
 right. Picton simultaneously attacked the left. In less than an 
 hour both were successful, and Ney's position was laid bare. His 
 skirmishers, however, continued to hold their ground in front, and 
 La Ferriere, a colonel of hussars, dashing boldly forward at this very 
 
THE RETREAT OF THE FRENCH. 503 
 
 moment, carried off fourteen prisoners from the very front of our 
 line. Deceived by the confidence of the enemy, Lord Wellington 
 now prepared for an attack in force. The infantry were therefore 
 formed into line, and, at the signal of three shots fired from the 
 centre, began their forward movement. 
 
 Bending up a gentle curve, the whole plain glistened with the 
 glancing bayonets, and the troops marched majestically onward, 
 while the light artillery and the cavalry, bounding forward from 
 the left and centre, rushed eagerly towards the foe. One deafening 
 discharge from the French guns opened at the moment, with a 
 general volley of small-arms. The smoke for an instant obscured 
 everything, and when that cleared away, no enemy was to be seen. 
 
 The British pressed madly on, like heated bloodhounds; but 
 when they descended the slope, the village of Redinha was in 
 flames, and the French were in full retreat beyond it. A single 
 howitzer seemed our only trophy, and even this we were not des- 
 tined to boast of, for from the midst of the crashing flame and dense 
 smoke of the burning village a troop of dragoons rushed forward, 
 and, charging our infantry, carried it off. The struggle, though but 
 for a moment, cost them dear — twenty of their comrades lay dead 
 upon the spot ; but they were resolute and determined, and the 
 officer who led them on, fighting hand to hand with a soldier of the 
 42d, cheered them as they retired. His gallant bearing, and his 
 coat covered with decorations, bespoke him one of note, and well it 
 might ; he who thus perilled his life to maintain the courage of his 
 soldiers at the commencement of a retreat, was no other than Ney 
 himself — le plus brave des braves. The British pressed hotly on, and 
 the light troops crossed the river almost at the same time with the 
 French. Ney, however, fell back upon Condeixa, where his main 
 body was posted, and all further pursuit was for the present aban- 
 doned. 
 
 At Casa Noval and at Foz d'Aronce the allies were successful ; 
 but the French still continued to retire, burning the towns and vil- 
 lages in their rear, and devastating the country along the whole line 
 of march by every expedient of cruelty the heart of man has ever 
 conceived. In the words of one whose descriptions, however fraught 
 with the most wonderful power of painting, are equally marked by 
 truth, — " Every horror that could make war hideous attended this 
 dreadful march. Distress, conflagration, death in all modes, — from 
 wounds, from fatigue, from water, from the flames, from starvation, 
 — vengeance, unlimited vengeance — was on every side. The country 
 was a desert !" 
 
 Such was the exhaustion of the allies, who suffered even greater 
 privations than the enemy, that they halted upon the 16th, unable 
 
504 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 to proceed farther, and the river Ceira, swollen and unfordable, 
 flowed between the rival armies. 
 
 The repose of even one day was a most grateful interruption to 
 the harassing career we had pursued for some time past; and it 
 seemed that my comrades felt, like myself, that such an opportunity 
 was by no means to be neglected. But while I am devoting so much 
 space, and trespassing on my reader's patience thus far, with narra- 
 tive of flood and field, let me steal a chapter for what will some- 
 times seem a scarcely less congenial topic, and bring back the recol- 
 lection of a glorious night in the Peninsula. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 PATRICK'S DAY IN THE PENINSULA. 
 
 THE reveille had not yet sounded, when I felt my shoulder 
 shaken gently as I lay wrapped up in my cloak beneath a 
 prickly pear-tree. 
 " Lieutenant O'Malley, sir ; a letter, sir ; a bit of a note, your 
 honor," said a voice which bespoke that the bearer and myself were 
 countrymen. I opened it, and, with difficulty, by the uncertain 
 light read as follows : — 
 
 " Dear Charley : — As Lord Wellington, like a good Irishman 
 as he is, wouldn't spoil Patrick's Day by marching, we've got a little 
 dinner at our quarters to celebrate the holy times, as my uncle 
 would call it. Maurice, Phil Grady, and some regular trumps, will 
 all come, so don't disappoint us. I've been making punch all night, 
 and Casey, who has a knack at pastry, has made a goose-pie as big 
 as a portmanteau. Sharp seven, after parade. The second battalion 
 of the Fusiliers are quartered at MelantS, and we are next them. 
 Bring any of yours worth their liquor. Power is, I know, absent 
 with the staff. Perhaps the Scotch Doctor would come — try him. 
 Carry over a little mustard with you, if there be such in your parts. 
 ' ^ ■ "Yours, 
 
 "D. O'Shaughnessy. 
 
 " Patrick's Day, and raining like blazes." 
 
 Seeing that the bearer expected an answer, I scrawled the words 
 " I'm there" with my pencil on the back of the note, and again 
 turned myself round to sleep. My slumbers were, however, soon 
 interrupted once more, for the bugles of the light infantry and the 
 
PATRICK'S DA Y IN THE PENINSULA. 505 
 
 hoarse trumpet of the cavalry sounded the call, and I found to my 
 surprise that, though halted, we were by no means destined to a day 
 of idleness. Dragoons were already mounted, carrying orders hither 
 and thither, and staff officers were galloping right and left. A gene- 
 ral order commanded an inspection of the troops, and within less 
 than an hour from daybreak the whole army was drawn up under 
 arms. A thin, drizzling rain continued to fall during the early part 
 of the day, but the sun gradually dispelled the heavy vapor, and as 
 the bright verdure glittered in its beams, sending up all the per- 
 fumes of a southern clime, I thought I had never seen a more lovely 
 morning. The staff were stationed upon a little knoll beside the 
 river, round the base of which the troops defiled, at first in orderly, 
 then in quick time, the bands playing and the colors flying. In the 
 same brigade with us the 88th came, and as they neared the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief, their quick step was suddenly stopped, and after a 
 pause of a few seconds, the band struck up " St. Patrick's Day ;" 
 the notes were caught up by the other Irish regiments, and, amid 
 one prolonged cheer from the whole line, the gallant fellows moved 
 past. 
 
 The grenadier company was drawn up beside the road, and I was 
 not long in detecting my friend O'Shaughnessy, who wore a tre- 
 mendous shamrock in his shako. 
 
 "Left face, wheel! quick march! Don't forget the mustard!" 
 said the bold Major ; and a loud roar of laughter from my brother 
 officers followed him off the ground. I soon explained the injunc- 
 tion, and, having invited some three or four to accompany me to 
 the dinner, waited with all patience for the conclusion of the 
 parade. 
 
 The sun was setting as I mounted, and, joined by Hampden, 
 Baker, the Doctor, and another, set out for O'Shaughnessy's quar- 
 ters. As we rode along, we were continually falling in with others 
 bent upon the same errand as ourselves, and ere we arrived at Me* 
 lante our party was some thirty strong ; and truly a most extraordi- 
 nary procession did we form. Few of the invited came without 
 some contribution to the general stock; and while a staff-officer 
 flourished a ham, a smart hussar might be seen with a plucked 
 turkey, trussed for roasting ; most carried bottles, as the consump- 
 tion of fluid was likely to be considerable ; and one fat old major 
 jogged along on a broken-winded pony, with a basket of potatoes 
 on his arm. Good fellowship was the order of the day, and cer- 
 tainly a more jovial squadron seldom was met together than ours. 
 As we turned the angle of a rising ground, a hearty cheer greeted 
 us, and we beheld in front of an old ordnance marquee a party of 
 some fifty fellows engaged in all the pleasing duties of the cui&.ne. 
 
506 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Maurice, conspicuous above all, with a white apron, and a ladle in 
 his hand, was running hither and thither, advising, admonishing, 
 instructing, and occasionally imprecating. Ceasing for a second his 
 functions, he gave us a cheer and a yell like that of an Indian sav- 
 age, and then resumed his duties beside a huge boiler, which, from 
 the frequency of his explorations into its contents, we judged to be 
 punch. 
 
 " Charley, my son, I've a place for you ; don't forget. Where's 
 my learned brother? — haven't you brought him with you? Ah, 
 Doctor, how goes it ?" 
 
 " Nae that bad, Master Quell, a' things considered ; we've had an 
 awfu' time of it lately." " 
 
 "You know my friend Hampden, Maurice. Let me introduce 
 Mr. Baker — Mr. Maurice Quill. Where's the Major?" 
 
 "Here I am, my darling, and delighted to see you. Some of 
 yours, O'Malley, ain't they ? Proud to have you, gentlemen. Char- 
 ley, we are obliged to have several tables ; but you are to be beside 
 Maurice, so take your friends with you. There goes the 'Roast 
 Beef;' my heart warms to that old tune." 
 
 Amid a hurried recognition, and shaking of hands on every side, 
 I elbowed my way into the tent, and soon reached a corner, where, 
 at a table for eight, I found Maurice seated at one end ; a huge, 
 purple-faced old major, whom he presented to us as Bob Mahon, 
 occupied the other. O'Shaughnessy presided at the table next to 
 us, but near enough to join in all the conviviality of ours. 
 
 One must have lived for some months upon hard biscuit and 
 harder beef to relish as we did the fare before us, and to form an 
 estimate of our satisfaction. If the reader cannot fancy Van Am- 
 burgh's lions in red coats and epaulettes, he must be content to lose 
 the effect of the picture. A turkey rarely fed more than two people, 
 and few were abstemious enough to be satisfied with one chicken. 
 The order of the viands, too, observed no common routine, each 
 party being happy to get what he could, and satisfied to follow up 
 his pudding with fish, or his tart with a sausage. Sherry, cham- 
 pagne, London porter, Malaga, and even, I believe, Harvey's sauce, 
 were hobnobbed in, while hot punch, in teacups or tin vessels, was 
 unsparingly distributed on all sides. Achilles himself, they say, got 
 tired of eating, and though he consumed something like a prize ox 
 to his own cheek, he at length had to call for cheese, so that we at 
 last gave in, and, having cleared away the broken tumbrels and 
 baggage-carts of our army, cleared for a general action. 
 
 "Now, lads!" cried the Major, "I'm not going to lose your time 
 and mine by speaking ; but there are a couple of toasts I must insist 
 upon you drinking with all the honors : and as I like despatch, we'll 
 
PATRICK'S DA Y IN THE PENINSULA. 507 
 
 m 
 
 couple them. It so happens that our old island boasts of two of the 
 finest fellows that ever wore Eussia ducks. None of your non- 
 sensical geniuses, like poets, or painters, or anything like that ; but 
 downright, straightforward, no-humbug sort of devil-may-care and 
 bad-luck-to-you kind of chaps — real Irishmen ! Now, it's a strange 
 thing that they both had such an antipathy to vermin, they spent 
 their life in hunting them down and destroying them ; and whether 
 they met toads at home, or Johnny Crapaud abroad, it was all one. 
 (Cheers.) Just so, boys; they made them leave that. But I see 
 you are getting impatient, so I'll not delay you, but fill to the 
 brim, and, with the best cheer in your body, drink with me the 
 two greatest Irishmen that ever lived, ' St. Patrick and Lord Wel- 
 lington.' " 
 
 The Englishmen laughed long and loud, while we cheered with 
 an energy that satisfied even the Major. 
 
 "Who is to give us the chant? Who is to sing St. Patrick?" 
 cried Maurice. " Come, Bob, out with it." 
 
 " I'm four tumblers too low for that yet," growled out the Major. 
 
 " Well, then, Charley, be you the man ; or why not Dennis him- 
 self ? Come, Dennis, we cannot better begin our evening than with 
 a song ; let us have our old friend ' Larry M'Hale.' " 
 
 " Larry M'Hale !" resounded from all parts of the room, while 
 O'Shaughnessy rose once more to his legs. 
 
 "Faith, boys, I'm always ready to follow your lead; but what 
 analogy can exist between ' Larry M'Hale ' and the toast we have 
 just drunk, I can't see for the life of me ; not but Larry would have 
 made a strapping light company man had he joined the army." 
 
 " The song, the song !" cried several voices. 
 
 " Well, if you will have it, here goes." 
 
 "LARRY M'HALE." 
 
 "Oh! Larry M'Hale he had little to fear, 
 
 And never could want when the crops didn't fail, 
 He'd a house and demesne and eight hundred a year, 
 
 And the heart for to spend it, had Larry M'Hale ! 
 The soul of a party, — the life of a feast, 
 
 And an illigant song he could sing, I'll he bail ; 
 He would ride with the rector, and drink with the priest, 
 
 Oh ! the broth of a boy was old Larry M'Hale. 
 
 " It's little he cared for the judge or recorder, 
 
 His house was as big and as strong as a gaol ; 
 With a cruel four-pounder he kept in great order, 
 
 He'd murder the country, would Larry M'Hale. 
 He'd a blunderbuss, too ; of horse-pistols a pair ; 
 
 But his favorite weapon was always a flail ; 
 I wish you could see how he'd empty a fair, 
 
 For he handled it neatly, did Larry M'Hale. 
 
508 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " His ancestors were kings before Moses was born, 
 
 His mother descended from great Grana Uaile ; 
 He laughed all the Blakes and the Frenches to scorn ; 
 
 They were mushrooms compared to old Larry M'Hale. 
 He sat down every day to a beautiful dinner, 
 
 With cousins and uncles enough for a tail ; 
 And, though loaded with debt, oh ! the devil a thinner 
 
 Could law or the sheriif make Larry M'Hale. 
 
 " With a larder supplied and a cellar well stored, 
 
 None lived half so well, from Fair-Head to Kinsale ; 
 As he piously said, ' I've a plentiful board, 
 
 And the Lord he is good to old Larry M'Hale.' 
 So fill up your glass, and a high bumper give him, 
 
 It's little we'd care for the tithes or repale ; 
 For ould Erin would be a fine country to live in, 
 
 If we only had plenty like Larry M'Hale." 
 
 " Very singular style of person your friend Mr. M'Hale," lisped 
 a spoony-looking Cornet at the end of the table. 
 
 " Not in the country he belongs to, I assure you," said Maurice ; 
 " but I presume you were never in Ireland." 
 
 " You are mistaken there," resumed the other ; " I was in Ireland 
 though I confess not for a long time." 
 
 " If I might be so bold," cried Maurice, " how long ?" 
 
 " Half an hour, by a stop-watch," said the other, pulling up his 
 stock ; " and I had quite enough of it in that time. 
 
 "Pray give us your experiences," cried out Bob Mahon. "They 
 should be interesting, considering your opportunities." 
 
 " You are right," said the Cornet ; " they were so ; and as they 
 illustrate a feature in your amiable country, you shall have them." 
 
 A general knocking upon the table announced the impatience of 
 the company, and when silence was restored, the Cornet began : 
 
 " When the Bermuda transport sailed from Portsmouth for Lisbon, 
 I happened to make one of some four hundred interesting individ- 
 uals who, before they became food for powder, were destined to try 
 their constitutions on pickled pork. The second day after our sail- 
 ing, the winds became adverse ; it blew a hurricane from every corner 
 of the compass but the one it ought, and the good ship, that should 
 have been standing straight for the Bay of Biscay, was scudding 
 away under a double-reefed topsail towards the coast of Labrador. 
 For six days we experienced every sea-manceuvre that usually pre- 
 ludes a shipwreck, and at length, when from sea-sickness and fear, 
 we had become utterly indifferent to the result, the storm abated, 
 the sea went down, and we found ourselves lying comfortably in the 
 harbor of Cork, with a strange suspicion on our minds that the 
 frightful scenes of the past week had been nothing but a dream. 
 
 " ' Come Mr. Medlicot/ said the Skipper to me, 'we shall be here 
 
PATRICK'S DA Y IN THE PENINSULA. 509 
 
 for a couple of days to refit ; had you not better go ashore and see 
 the country?' 
 
 " I sprang to my legs with delight ; visions of cowslips, larks, 
 daisies, and mutton chops floated before my excited imagination, 
 and in ten minutes I found myself standing at that pleasant little 
 inn at Cove which, opposite Spike Island, rejoices in the name of the 
 ' Goat and Garters.' 
 
 " ' Breakfast, waiter,' said I ; ' a beefsteak — fresh beef, mark ye ; 
 fresh eggs, bread, milk, and butter, all fresh. — No more hard tack,' 
 thought I ; ' no salt butter, but a genuine land breakfast.' 
 
 " ' Up stairs, No. 4, sir/ said the waiter, as he flourished a dirty 
 napkin, indicating the way. 
 
 " Up stairs I went, and in due time the appetizing little meal made 
 its appearance. Never did a minor's eye revel over his broad acres 
 with more complacent enjoyment than did mine skim over the beef- 
 steak and the muffin, the teapot, the trout, and the devilled kidney, 
 so invitingly spread out before me. ' Yes,' thought I, as I smacked 
 my lips, ' this is the reward of virtue ! pickled pork is a probationary 
 state that admirably fits us for future enjoyments.' I arranged my 
 napkin upon my knee, seized my knife and fork, and proceeded with 
 most critical acumen to bisect a beefsteak. Scarcely, however, had 
 I touched it, when with a loud crash, the plate smashed beneath it, 
 and the gravy ran piteously across the cloth. Before I had time to 
 account for the phenomenon, the door opened hastily, and the waiter 
 rushed into the room, his face beaming with smiles, while he rubbed 
 his hands in an ecstasy of delight. 
 
 " ' It's all over, sir,' said he ; ' glory be to God I it's all done.' 
 
 " ' What's over ? what's done ?' inquired I, with impatience. 
 
 " ' Mr. M'Mahon is satisfied,' replied he, ' and so is the other gen- 
 tleman.' 
 
 " ' Who and what the devil do you mean V 
 
 " ' It's over, sir, I say,' replied the waiter again ; ' he fired in the 
 air.' 
 
 " ' Fired in the air ! Was there a duel in the room below stairs?' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' said the waiter, with a benign smile. 
 
 " ' That will do,' said I, as, seizing my hat, I rushed out of the 
 house, and, hurrying to the beach, took a boat for the ship. Exactly 
 half an hour had elapsed since my landing, but even those short 
 thirty minutes had fully as many reasons that, although there may 
 be few more amusing, there are some safer places to live in than the 
 Green Isle." 
 
 A general burst of laughter followed the Cornet's story, which 
 was heightened in its effect by the gravity with which he told it. 
 
 "And, after all,"' said Maurice Quill, " now that people have given 
 
510 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 up making fortunes for the insurance companies, by living to the 
 age of Methuselah, there's nothing like being an Irishman. In what 
 other part of the habitable globe can you cram so much of adventure 
 into one year ? Where can you be so often in love, in liquor, or in 
 debt? and where can you get so merrily out of the three? Where 
 are promises to marry and promises to pay treated with the same 
 gentlemanlike forbearance? and where, when you have lost your 
 heart and your fortune, are people found so ready to comfort you in 
 your reverses? Yes," said Maurice, as he filled his glass up to the 
 brim, and eyed it lusciously for a moment — "yes, darling, here's 
 your health ; the only girl I ever loved — in that part of the country, 
 I mean. Give her a bumper, lads, and I'll give you a chant !" 
 
 " Name ! name I name 1" shouted several voices from different parts 
 of the table. 
 
 " Mary Draper I" said Maurice, filling his glass once more, while 
 the name was re-echoed by every lip at table. 
 
 " The song ! the song !" 
 
 " Faith, I hope I haven't forgotten it," quoth Maurice. " No ; 
 here it is." 
 
 So saying, after a couple of efforts to assure the pitch of his voice, 
 the worthy Doctor began the following words to that very popular 
 melody, " Nancy Dawson :" 
 
 "MARY DRAPER." 
 
 " Don't talk to me of London dames, 
 Nor rave about your foreign flames, 
 That never lived, — except in drames, 
 
 Nor shone, except on paper ; 
 I'll sing you 'bout a girl I knew, 
 Who lived in Ballywhacmacrew, 
 And, let me tell you, mighty few 
 
 Could equal Mary Draper. 
 
 " Her cheeks were red, her eyes were blue, 
 Her hair was brown, of deepest hue, 
 Her foot was small, and neat to view, 
 
 Her waist was slight and taper ; 
 Her voice was music to your ear, 
 A lovely brogue, so rich and clear, 
 Oh, the like I ne'er again shall hear, 
 As from sweet Mary Draper. 
 
 " She'd ride a wall, she'd drive a team, 
 Or with a fly she'd whip a stream, 
 Or may be sing you ' Rousseau's Dream,' 
 
 For nothing could escape her ; 
 I've seen her, too — upon my word — 
 At sixty yards bring down her bird. 
 Oh ! she charmed all the Forty-third, 
 Did lovely Mary Draper. 
 
PATRICK'S DA Y IN THE PENINSULA. 511 
 
 " And at the spring assizes' ball, 
 The junior bar would oneand all 
 For all her fav'rite dances call, 
 
 And Harry Deane would caper ; 
 Lord Clare would then forget his lore, 
 King's Counsel, voting law a bore, 
 "Were proud to figure on the floor, 
 
 For love of Mary Draper. 
 
 " The parson, priest, sub-sheriff too, 
 "Were all her slaves, and so would you, 
 If you had only but one view 
 
 Of such a face and shape, or 
 Her pretty ankles — but, ohone, 
 It's only west of old Athlone 
 Such girls were found— and now they're gone— 
 
 So here's to Mary Draper !" 
 
 " So here's to Mary Draper !" sang out every voice, in such efforts 
 to catch the tune as pleased the taste of the motley assembly. 
 
 " For Mary Draper and Co., I thank you," said Maurice. " Quill 
 drinks to Dennis," added he, in a grave tone, as he nodded to 
 O'Shaughnessy. "Yes, Shaugh, few men better than ourselves 
 know these matters ; and few have had more experience of the three 
 perils of Irishmen — love, liquor, and the law of arrest." 
 
 " It's little the latter has ever troubled my father's son," replied 
 O'Shaughnessy ; " our family have been writ proof for centuries, 
 and he'd have been a bold man who would have ventured with an 
 original or a true copy within the precincts of Killinahoula." 
 
 " Your father had a touch of Larry M'Hale in him," said I, " ap- 
 parently." 
 
 " Exactly so," replied Dennis ; " not but they caught him at last; 
 and a scurvy trick it was, and well worthy of him who did it ! Yes," 
 said he, with a sigh, " it is only another among the many instances 
 where the better features of our nationality have been used by our 
 enemies as instruments for our destruction ; and should we seek for 
 the causes of unhappiness in our wretched country, we should find 
 them rather in our virtues than in our vices, and in the bright 
 rather than in the darker phases of our character." 
 
 "Metaphysics, by Jove!" cried Quill; "but all true at the same 
 time. There was a messmate of mine in the Roscommon, who never 
 paid car-hire in his life. ' Head or Harp, Paddy !' he would cry. 
 1 Two tenpennies, or nothing. Harp ! for the honor of ould Ireland,' 
 was the invariable response, and my friend was equally sure to 
 make head come uppermost; and, upon my soul, they seem to know 
 the trick at the Home Office." 
 
 " That must have been the same fellow that took my father," 
 cried O'Shaughnessy, with energy. 
 
612 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Let us hear the story, Dennis," said I. 
 
 " Yes," said Maurice, " for the benefit of self and fellows, let us 
 hear the stratagem !" 
 
 " The way of it was this," resumed O'Shauglmessy ; " my lather, 
 who, for reasons registered in the King's Bench, spent a great many 
 years of his life in that part of Ireland geographically known as 
 lying west of the law, was obliged for certain reasons of family to 
 come up to Dublin. This he proceeded to do with due caution. 
 Two trusty servants formed an advanced guard, and patrolled the 
 country for at least five miles in advance; after them came a skir- 
 mishing body of a few tenants, who, for the consideration of never 
 paying rent, would have charged the whole Court of Chancery, if 
 needful. My father himself, in an old chaise victualled like a fort- 
 ress, brought up the rear ; and, as I said before, he was a bold man 
 who would have attempted to have laid siege to him. As the column 
 advanced into the enemy's country, they assumed a closer order, the 
 patrol and the picket falling back upon the main body ; and in this 
 way they reached that most interesting city called Kilbeggan. "What 
 a fortunate thing it is for us in Ireland that we can see so much of 
 the world without foreign travel, and that any gentleman for six- 
 and-eightpence can leave Dublin in the morning and visit Tim- 
 buctoo against dinner-time ! Don't stare ! it's truth I'm telling ; for 
 dirt, misery, smoke, unaffected behavior, and black faces, I'll back 
 Kilbeggan against all Africa. Free-and-easy, pleasant people ye 
 are, with a skin as begrimed and as rugged as your own potatoes ! 
 But, to resume. The sun was just rising in a delicious morning of 
 June, when my father — whose loyal antipathies I have mentioned 
 made him also an early riser — was preparing for the road. A stout 
 escort of his followers were as usual under arms to see him safe in 
 the chaise, the passage to and from which every day being the crit- 
 ical moment of my father's life. 
 
 " ' It's all right, your honor,' said his own man, as, armed with a 
 blunderbuss, he opened the bedroom door. 
 
 "'Time enough, Tim,' said my father; 'close the door, for I 
 haven't finished my breakfast/ 
 
 "Now, the real truth was, that my father's attention was at that 
 moment withdrawn from his own concerns, by a scene which was 
 taking place in a field beneath his window. 
 
 " But a few minutes before, a hack-chaise had stopped upon the 
 road-side, out of which sprang three gentlemen, who, proceeding 
 into the field, seemed bent upon something, which, whether a sur- 
 vey or a duel, my father could not make out. He was not long, 
 however, to remain in ignorance. One, with an easy, lounging gait, 
 strode towards a distant corner; another took an opposite direction; 
 
PATRICK'S DA Y IN THE PENINSULA. 513 
 
 while a third, a short, pursy gentleman, in a red handkerchief and 
 rabbit-skin waistcoat, proceeded to open a mahogany box, which, to 
 the critical eyes of my respected father, was agreeably suggestive of 
 bloodshed and murder. 
 
 " 'A duel, by Jupiter !' said my father, rubbing his hands. 'What 
 a heavenly morning the scoundrels have ! not a leaf stirring, and a 
 sod like a billiard-table !' 
 
 "Meanwhile, the little man who officiated as second, it would 
 appear, to both parties, bustled about with an activity little conge- 
 nial to his shape ; and, what between snapping the pistols, examin- 
 ing the flints, and ramming down the charges, had got himself into 
 a sufficient perspiration before he commenced to measure out the 
 ground. 
 
 " ' Short distance and no quarter !' shouted one of the combatants, 
 from the corner of the field. 
 
 " 'Across a handkerchief, if you like !' roared the other. 
 
 " l Gentlemen, every inch of them !' responded my father. 
 
 " ' Twelve paces !' cried the little man. ' No more and no less. 
 Don't forget that I am alone in this business.' 
 
 " 'A very true remark V observed my father ; f and an awkward 
 predicament yours will be if they are not both shot !' 
 
 " By this time the combatants had taken their places, and the 
 little man, having delivered the pistols, was leisurely retiring to give 
 the word. My .^ather, however, whose critical eye was never at fault, 
 detected a circumstance which promised an immense advantage to 
 one at the expense of the other ; in fact, one of the parties was so 
 placed with his back to the sun, that his shadow extended in a 
 straight line to the very foot of his antagonist. 
 
 " ' Unfair, unfair !' cried my father, opening the window as he 
 spoke, and addressing himself to him of the rabbit-skin. 'I crave 
 your pardon for the interruption/ said he ; - but I feel bound to 
 observe that that gentleman's shadow is likely to make a shade of 
 him.' 
 
 " 'And so it is/ observed the short man ; ' a thousand thanks for 
 your kindness ; but the truth is, I am totally unaccustomed to this 
 kind of thing, and the affair will not admit of delay.' 
 
 " " Not an hour !' said one. 
 
 " ' Not five minutes !' growled the other of the combatants. 
 
 " ' Put them up north and south !' said my father, 
 
 "'Is it thus?' 
 
 " ' Exactly so. But now again, the gentleman in the brown coat 
 is covered with the ash-tree.' 
 
 " 'And so he is !' said rabbit-skin, wiping his forehead with agita- 
 tion. 
 
 33 
 
514 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " ' Move them a little to the left,' said he. 
 
 That brings me upon an eminence,' said the gentleman in blue. 
 
 'I'll be d— if I'll be made a cock-shot of!' 
 
 What an awkward little thief it is in the hairy waistcoat !' said 
 my father; ' he's lucky if he don't get shot himself!' 
 
 " ' May I never, if I'm not sick of you both !' ejaculated rabbit- 
 skin, in a passion. ' I've moved you round every point of the com- 
 pass, and devil a nearer we are than ever.' 
 
 " ' Give us the word,' said one. 
 
 "' The word!' 
 
 " ' Downright murder,' said my father. 
 
 " ' I don't care,' cried the little man ; ' we shall be here till 
 doomsday.' 
 
 " ' I can't permit this,' said my father ; ' allow me.' So saying, 
 he stepped upon the window-sill, and leaped down into the field. 
 
 " ' Before I can accept of your politeness,' said he of the rabbit- 
 skin, 'may I beg to know your name and position in society ?' 
 
 " ' Nothing more reasonable,' said my father. ' I'm Miles 
 O'Shaughnessy, Colonel of the Eoyal Easpers ; here is my card.' 
 
 " The piece of pasteboard was complacently handed from one to 
 the other of the party, who saluted my father with a smile of most 
 courteous benignity. 
 
 " ' Colonel O'Shaughnessy,' said one. 
 
 " \ Miles O'Shaughnessy,' said the other. 
 
 " ' Of Killinahoula Castle,' said the third. 
 
 " 'At your service,' said my father, bowing as he presented his 
 snuff-box; 'and now to business, if you please; for my time also 
 js limited.' 
 
 ( " Very true,' observed he of the rabbit-skin, 'and, as you ob- 
 serve, now to business ; in virtue of which, Colonel Miles O'Shaugh- 
 nessy, J hereby arrest you in the King's name. Here is the writ : 
 it's at the suit of Barnaby Kelly, of Loughrea, for the sum of 
 £1,482 19s, 7J£, which ' 
 
 " Before he could conclude the sentence, my father discharged one 
 obligation, by implanting his closed knuckles in his face. The blow, 
 well aimed and well intentioned, sent the little fellow summerset- 
 ting like a sugar hogshead. But, alas J it was no use ; the others,- 
 strong and able-bodied, fell both upon him, and after a desperate 
 Struggle succeeded in getting him down. To tie his hands and 
 convey him to a chaise was the work of a few moments ; and, as my 
 father drove by the inn, the last object which caught his view was a 
 bloody encounter between his own people and the myrmidons of the 
 law, who, in great numbers, had laid siege to the house during his 
 capture. Thus was my father taken ; and thus, in reward for yield- 
 
PATRICK'S DA Y IN THE PENINSULA. 515 
 
 ing to a virtuous weakness in his character, was he consigned to the 
 ignominious durance of a prison. Was I not right, then, in saying 
 that such is the melancholy position of our country, the most 
 beautiful traits in our character are converted into the elements of 
 our ruin ?" 
 
 "I dinna think ye hae made out your case, Major," said the 
 Scotch Doctor, who felt sorely puzzled at my friend's logic. " If 
 your faither had nae gi'en the bond " 
 
 " There is no saying what he wouldn't have done to the bailiffs," 
 interrupted Dennis, who was following up a very different train of 
 reasoning. 
 
 "I fear me, Doctor," observed Quill, "you are much behind us 
 in Scotland. Not but that some of your chieftains are respectable 
 men, and wouldn't get on badly even in Gal way." 
 
 " I thank ye muckle for the compliment," said the Doctor, dryly ; 
 " but I hae my doubts they'd think it ane, and they're crusty carles 
 that's no' ower safe to meddle wi'." 
 
 " I'd as soon propose a hand of spoiled five to the Pope of Rome, 
 as a joke to one of them," returned Maurice. 
 
 " Maybe ye are na wrang there, Maister Quell." 
 
 " Well," cried Hampden, " if I may be allowed an opinion, I can 
 safely aver I know no quarters like Scotland. Edinburgh beyond 
 anything or anywhere I was ever placed in." 
 
 "Always after Dublin," interposed Maurice, while a general 
 chorus of voices re-echoed the sentiment. 
 
 " You are certainly a strong majority," said my friend, " against 
 me; but still I recant not my original opinion. Edinburgh before 
 the world. For a hospitality that never tires ; for pleasant fellows 
 that improve every day of your acquaintance ; for pretty girls that 
 make you long for a repeal of the canon about being only singly, 
 blessed, and lead you to long for a score of them, Edinburgh, I say 
 again, before the world." 
 
 " Their ankles are devilish thick," whispered Maurice. 
 
 "A calumny, a base calumny!" 
 
 "And then they drink " 
 
 "Oh " 
 
 " Yes ; they drink very strong tea." 
 
 "Shall we hae a glass o' sherry together, Hampden?" said the 
 Scotch Doctor, willing to acknowledge his defence of Auld Reekie. 
 
 " And we'll take O'Malley in," said Hampden ; " he looks im- 
 ploringly." 
 
 "And now to return to the charge," quoth Maurice. "In what 
 particular dare ye contend the palm with Dublin? We'll not speak 
 of beauty. I can't suffer any such profane turn in the conversation 
 
516 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 as to dispute the superiority of Irishwomen's lips, eyes, noses, and 
 eyebrows, to anything under heaven. We'll not talk of gay fellows; 
 egad, we needn't. I'll give you the garrison — a decent present ; and 
 I'll back the Irish bar for more genuine drollery, more wit, more 
 epigram, more ready, sparkling fun, than the whole rest of the 
 empire — ay, and all her colonies — can boast of." 
 
 " They are nae remarkable for passing the bottle, if they resemble 
 their gifted advocate," observed the Scotchman. 
 
 " But they are for filling and emptying both, making its current, 
 as it glides by, like a rich stream glittering in the sunbeams with the 
 sparkling lustre of their wit. Lord, how I'm blown ! Fill my pan- 
 nikin, Charley. There's no subduing a Scot. Talk with him, drink 
 with him, fight with him, and he'll always have the last of it: 
 there's only one way of concluding the treaty " 
 
 " And that is " 
 
 " Blarney him. Lord bless you ! he can't stand it. Tell him 
 Holyrood's like Versailles, and the Trossachs finer than Mont 
 Blanc; that Geordie Buchanan was Homer, and the Canongate, 
 Herculaneum, — then ye have him on the hip. Now, ye can never 
 humbug an Irishman that way; he'll know you're quizzing him 
 when you praise his country." 
 
 " Ye are right, Hampden," said the Scotch Doctor, in reply to 
 some observation. " We are vara primitive in the Hielands, and we 
 keep to our ain national customs in dress and everything ; and we 
 are vara slow to learn ; and even when we try, we are nae ower suc- 
 cessful' in our imitations, which sometimes cost us dearly enough. 
 Ye may have heard, maybe, of the M'Nab o' that ilk, and what 
 happened him with the King's equerry ?" 
 
 " I am not quite certain," said Hampden, " if I ever heard the 
 .story." 
 
 " It's nae muckle of a story ; but the way of it was this : — When 
 Montrose came back from London, he brought with him a few Eng- 
 lishes to show them the Hielands, and let them see something of 
 deer-stalking; among the rest, a certain Sir George Sowerby, an 
 aide-de-camp or an equerry of the Prince. He was a vara fine 
 gentleman, that never loaded his ain gun, and a'most thought it too 
 much trouble to pull the trigger. He went out every morning to 
 shoot with his hair curled like a woman, and dressed like a dancing- 
 master. Now, there happened to be at the same time at the castle 
 the Laird o' M'Nab; he was a kind of cousin of the Montrose,'and 
 a rough old tyke of the true Hieland breed, wha thought that the 
 head of a clan was fully equal to any king or prince. He sat oppo- 
 site to Sir George at dinner the day of his arrival, and could not 
 conceal his surprise at the many new-fangled ways of feeding him- 
 
PATRICK'S DAY IN THE PENINSULA. 517 
 
 self the Englisher adopted. He ate his saumon wi' his fork in ae 
 hand and a bittock of bread in the other; he wouldna touch the 
 whisky; helped himself to a cutlet wi' his fingers; but, what was 
 maist extraordinary of all, he wore a pair of braw white gloves 
 during the whole time o' dinner ; and when they came to tak' away 
 the cloth, he drew them off with a great air, and threw them into 
 the middle of it, and then, leisurely-taking another pair off a silver 
 salver which his ain man presented, he pat them on for the dessert. 
 The M'Nab, who, although an auld-fashioned carle, was aye fond of 
 bringing something new home to his friends, remarked the Eng- 
 lisher's proceeding with great care, and the next day he appeared at 
 dinner wi' a huge pair of Hieland mittens, which he wore, to the 
 astonishment of all and the amusement of most, through the whole 
 three courses, and exactly as the Englishman changed his gloves, the 
 M'Nab produced a fresh pair of goat's wool, four times as large as 
 the first, which drawing on with prodigious gravity, he threw the 
 others into the middle of the cloth, remarking as he did so, — 
 
 " ' Ye see, Captain, we are never ower auld to learn/ 
 
 " All propriety was now at an end, and a hearty burst of laughter 
 from one end of the table to the other convulsed the whole com- 
 pany ; the M'Nab and the Englishman being the only two persons 
 who did not join in it, but sat glowering at each other like twa 
 tigers ; and, indeed, it needed a' the Montrose's interferences that 
 they hadna quarrelled upon it in the morning." 
 
 " The M'Nab was a man after my own heart," said Maurice ; 
 " there was something very Irish in the lesson he gave the English- 
 man." 
 
 " I'd rather ye'd told him that than me," said the Doctor, dryly; 
 "he wouldna hae thanked ye for mistaking him for ane of your 
 countrymen." 
 
 "Come, Doctor!" said Dennis, "could ye not give us a stave? 
 Have ye nothing that smacks of the brown fern and the blue lakes 
 in your memory ?" 
 
 "I havena a sang in my mind just noo except Johnny Cope; 
 which, maybe, might no' be ower pleasant for the Englishers to 
 listen to." 
 
 " I never heard a Scotch song worth sixpence," quoth Maurice, 
 who seemed bent on provoking the Doctor's ire. "They contain 
 nothing save some puling sentimentality about lasses with lint- 
 white locks, or some absurd laudations of the barley bree." 
 
 "Hear till him — hear till him!" said the Doctor, reddening with 
 impatience. 
 
 "Show me anything," said Maurice, "like the 'Cruiskeen Lawn' or 
 the ' Jug of Punch ;' but who can blame them, after all ? You can't 
 
518 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 expect much from a people with an imagination as naked as their 
 own knees." 
 
 "Maurice! Maurice!" cried O'Shaughnessy, reprovingly, who 
 saw that he was pushing the other's endurance beyond all bounds. 
 
 '* I mind weel," said the Scotchman, " what happened to ane o' 
 your countrymen wha took upon him to jest as you are doing now. 
 It was to Laurie Cameron he did it." 
 
 " And what said the redoubted Laurie in reply ?" 
 
 " He didna say muckle, but he did something." 
 
 "And what might it be ?" inquired Maurice. 
 
 " He threw him ower the brig of Ayr into the water, and he was 
 drowned." 
 
 " And did Laurie come to no harm about the matter?" 
 
 " Ay ! they tried him for it, and found him guilty ; but when they 
 asked him what he had to say in his defence, he merely replied, 
 ' When the carle sneered about Scotland, I didna suspect that he 
 didna ken how to swim ;' and so the end of it was, they did naething 
 to Laurie." 
 
 " Cool that, certainly," said I. 
 
 " I prefer your friend with the mittens, I confess," said Maurice ; 
 "though I'm sure both were most agreeable companions. But come, 
 Doctor, couldn't you give us, — 
 
 " Sit ye down, my heartie, and gie us a crack, 
 
 Let the wind tak' the care o' the world on its back." 
 
 " You maunna attempt English poetry, my freend Quell ; for it 
 must be confessed you've a d — accent of your ain." 
 
 " Milesian-Phoenician-Corkacian — nothing more, my boy ; and a 
 coaxing kind of recitative it is, after all. Don't tell me of your soft 
 Etruscan — your plethoric Hoch-Deutsch — your flattering French. 
 To woo and win the girl of your heart, give me a rich brogue and 
 the least taste in life of blarney ! There's nothing like it, believe 
 me — every inflection of your voice suggesting some tender pressure 
 of her soft hand or taper waist ; every cadence falling on her gentle 
 heart like a sea-breeze on a burning coast, or a soft sirocco over a 
 rose-tree ; and then think, my boys, — and it is a fine thought after 
 all, — what a glorious gift that is, out of the reach of kings to give 
 or to take, what neither depends upon the act of Union nor the 
 Habeas Corpus. No! they may starve us — laugh at us — tax us — 
 transport us. They may take our mountains, our valleys, and our 
 bogs ; but, bad luck to them, they can't steal our *■ blarney ;' that's 
 the privilege one and indivisible with our identity ; and while an 
 Englishman raves of his liberty — a Scotchman of his oaten meal — 
 blarney's our birthright, and a prettier portion I'd never ask to leave 
 
F UENTES D ' ONOR 0. 519 
 
 behind me to my sons. If I'd as large a family as the ould gentle- 
 man called Priam we used to hear of at school, it's the only inheri- 
 tance I'd give them ; and one comfort there would be besides — the 
 legacy duty would be only a trifle. Charley, my son, I see you're 
 listening to me, and nothing satisfies me more than to instruct 
 aspiring youth ; so never forget the old song, — 
 
 " If at your ease, the girls you'd please, 
 And win them, like Kate Kearney, 
 There's but one way, I've heard them say, 
 Go kiss the 'Stone of Blarney.' " 
 
 " What do you say, Shaugh, if we drink it with all the honors ?" 
 
 " But gently : do I hear a trumpet there ?" 
 
 u Ah, there go the bugles. Can it be daybreak already ?" 
 
 " How short the nights are at this season !" said Quill. 
 
 " What an infernal rumpus they're making ! it's not possible the 
 troops are to march so early." 
 
 " It wouldn't surprise me in the least;" quoth Maurice; "there 
 is no knowing what the Commander-in-Chief's not capable of: the 
 reason's clear enough." 
 
 " And why, Maurice ?" 
 
 " There's not a bit of blarney about him." 
 
 The reveille rang out from every brigade, and the drums beat to 
 fall in, while Mike came galloping up at full speed to say that the 
 bridge of boats was complete, and that the 12th were already ordered 
 to cross. Not a moment was therefore to be lost ; one parting cup 
 was drained to our next meeting, and amid a hundred " good-byes " 
 we mounted our horses. Poor Hampden's brains being sadly con- 
 fused by the wine and the laughing, he knew little of what was 
 going on around him, and passed the entire time of our homeward 
 ride in a vain endeavor to adapt Mary Draper to the air of "Rule 
 Britannia." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 FUENTES D'ONOKO. 
 
 FROM this period the French continued their retreat, closely 
 followed by the allied armies, and on the 5th of April Mas- 
 sena once more crossed the frontier into Spain, leaving thirty 
 thousand of his bravest troops behind him, fourteen thousand of 
 whom had fallen, or been taken prisoners ; reinforcements, however, 
 
620 CHARLES 0' M ALLEY. 
 
 came rapidly pouring in. Two divisions of the ninth corps had 
 already arrived, and Drouet, with eleven thousand infantry and 
 cavalry, was preparing to march to his assistance. Thus strength- 
 ened, the French army marched towards the Portuguese frontier, 
 and Lord Wellington, who had determined not to hazard much by 
 his blockade of Ciudad Rodrigo, fell back upon the large table-land 
 beyond the Turones and the Dos Casas, with his left at Fort Con- 
 ception, and his right resting upon Fuentes d'Onoro. His position 
 extended to about five miles ; and here, although vastly inferior in 
 numbers, yet relying upon the bravery of the troops, and the moral 
 ascendency acquired by their pursuit of the enemy, he finally re- 
 solved upon giving them battle. 
 
 Being sent with despatches to Pack's Brigade, which formed the 
 blockading force at Almeida, I did not reach Fuentes d'Onoro until 
 the evening of the 3d. The thundering of the guns, which, even at 
 the distance I was at, was plainly heard, announced then an attack 
 had taken place, but it by no means prepared me for the scene 
 which presented itself on my return. 
 
 The village of Fuentes d'Onoro, one of the most beautiful in 
 Spain, is situated in a lovely valley, where all the charms of ver- 
 dure so peculiar to the Peninsula seemed to have been scattered 
 with a lavish hand. The citron and the arbutus, growing wild, 
 sheltered every cottage door, and the olive and the laurel threw 
 their shadows across the little rivulet which traversed the village. 
 The houses, observing no uniform arrangement, stood wherever the 
 caprice or the inclination of the builder suggested, surrounded with 
 little gardens, the inequality of the ground imparting a picturesque 
 feature to even the lowliest hut, while, upon a craggy eminence 
 above the rest, an ancient convent and a ruined chapel looked down 
 upon the little peaceful hamlet with an air of tender protection. 
 
 Hitherto, this lovely spot had escaped all the ravages of war. 
 The light division of our army had occupied it for months long ; 
 and every family was gratefully remembered by some one or other of 
 our officers ; and more than one of our wounded found in the kind 
 and affectionate watching of these poor peasants the solace which 
 sickness rarely meets with when far from home and country. 
 
 It was with an anxious heart that I pressed my horse forward 
 into a gallop as the night drew near. The artillery had been dis- 
 tinctly heard during the day, and while I burned with eagerness to 
 know the result, I felt scarcely less anxious for the fate of that little 
 hamlet whose name many a kind story had implanted in my memory. 
 The moon was shining brightly as I passed the outpost ; leading my 
 horse by the bridle, I descended the steep and rugged causeway to 
 the village beneath me. The lanterns were moving rapidly to and 
 
F UENTES B ' ON OR 0. 521 
 
 fro ; the measured tread of infantry at night — that ominous sound, 
 which falls upon the heart so sadly— told me that they were burying 
 the dead. The air was still and breathless ; not a sound was stirring 
 save the step of the soldiery, and the harsh clash of the shovel as it 
 struck the earth. I felt sad, and sick at heart, and leaned against a 
 tree. A nightingale concealed in the leaves was pouring forth its 
 plaintive notes to the night air, and its low warble sounded like the 
 dirge of the departed. Far beyond, in the plain, the French watch- 
 fires were burning, and I could see from time to time the fatigue- 
 parties moving in search of their wounded. At this moment the 
 clock of the convent struck eleven, and a merry chime rang out, 
 and was taken up by the echoes, till it melted away in the distance. 
 Alas ! where were those whose hearts were wont to feel cheered at 
 that happy peal? — whose infancy it had gladdened, whose old age it 
 has hallowed ? The fallen walls, the broken roof-trees, the ruin and 
 desolation on every side, told plainly that they had passed away 
 forever. The smoking embers, the torn-up pathway, denoted the 
 hard-fought struggle ; and, as I passed along, I could see that every 
 garden where the cherry and the apple-blossom were even still per- 
 fuming the air, had now its sepulchre. 
 
 " Halt, there !" cried a hoarse voice in front. "You cannot pass 
 this way — the Commander-in-Chief's quarters." 
 
 I looked up, and beheld a small but neat-looking cottage, which 
 seemed to have suffered less than the others around. Lights were 
 shining brightly from the windows, and I could even detect from 
 time to time a figure muffled up in a cloak, passing to and fro across 
 the window, while another, seated at a table, was occupied in writ- 
 ing. I turned into a narrow path which led into the little square of 
 the village, and here, as I approached, the hum and murmur of 
 voices announced a bivouac party. Stopping to ask what had been 
 the result of the day, I learned that a tremendous attack had been 
 made by the French in column upon the village, which was at first 
 successful, but that afterwards the 71st and 79th, marching down 
 from the heights, had repulsed the enemy, and driven them beyond 
 the Dos Casas. Five hundred had fallen in that fierce encounter, 
 which was continued through every street and alley of the little 
 hamlet. The gallant Highlanders now occupied the battle-field; 
 and hearing that the cavalry brigade was some miles distant, I wil- 
 lingly accepted their offer to share their bivouac, and passed the 
 remainder of the night among them. 
 
 When day broke, our troops were under arms, but the enemy 
 showed no disposition to renew the attack. We could perceive, 
 however, from the road to the southward, by the long columns of 
 dust, that reinforcements were still arriving, and learned during the 
 
522 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 morning, from a deserter, that Massena himself had come up, and 
 Bessieres also, with twelve hundred cavalry, and a battery of the 
 Imperial Guard. 
 
 From the movements observable among the enemy, it was soon 
 evident that the battle, though deferred, was not abandoned, and 
 the march of a strong force towards the left of their position in- 
 duced our Commander-in-Chief to despatch the seventh division, 
 under Houston, to occupy the height of Naval d'Aver, — our ex- 
 treme right, — in support of which our brigade of cavalry marched 
 as a covering force. The British position was thus unavoidably ex- 
 tended to the enormous length of seven miles, occupying a succes- 
 sion of small eminences, from the division at Fort Conception to the 
 height of Naval d'Aver, Fuentes d'Onoro forming nearly the centre 
 of the line. 
 
 It was evident, from the thickening combinations of the French, 
 that a more dreadful battle was still in reserve for us; and yet never 
 did men look more anxiously for the morrow. 
 
 As for myself, I felt a species of exhilaration I had never before 
 experienced. The events of the preceding day came dropping in 
 upon me from every side, and at every new tale of gallantry or dar- 
 ing I felt my heart bounding with excited eagerness to win also my 
 meed of honorable praise. 
 
 Craufurd, too, had recognized me in the kindest manner, and 
 while saying that he did not wish to withdraw me from my regi- 
 ment on a day of battle, added that he would make use of me for 
 the present on his staff. Thus was I engaged from early morning 
 till late in the evening bringing orders and despatches along the 
 line. The troop-horse I rode — for I reserved my gray for the fol- 
 lowing day — was scarcely able to carry me along, as towards dusk I 
 jogged along in the direction of Naval d'Aver. When I did reach 
 our quarters, the fires were lighted, and around one of them I had 
 the good fortune to find a party of the 14th occupied in discussing 
 a very ^appetizing little supper. The clatter of plates and the pop- 
 ping of champagne corks were most agreeable sounds. Indeed, the 
 latter appeared to me so much too flattering an illusion, that I hesi- 
 tated to credit my senses in the matter, when Baker called out, — 
 
 " Come, Charley, sit down ; you're just in the nick. Tom Mart- 
 den is giving us a benefit. You know Tom ?" 
 
 And here he presented me in due form to that best of commis- 
 saries and most hospitable of horse-dealers. 
 
 " I can't introduce you to my friend on my right," continued 
 Baker", "for my Spanish is only a skeleton battalion. But he's a 
 trump — that I'll vouch for ; never flinches his glass, and looks as 
 though he enjoyed all our nonsense." 
 
 
THE BATTLE OF FUENTES D'ONORO. 523 
 
 The Spaniard, who appeared to comprehend that he was alluded 
 to, gravely saluted me with a low bow, and offered his glass to hob- 
 nob with me. I returned the compliment with becoming ceremony, 
 while Hampden whispered in my ear, — 
 
 "A fine-looking fellow. You know who he is? Julian, the 
 Guerilla chief." 
 
 I had heard much of both the strangers. Tom Marsden was a 
 household word in every cavalry brigade, equally celebrated for his 
 contracts and his claret. He knew every one, from Lord Welling- 
 ton to the last-joined cornet ; and, while upon a march, there was 
 no piece of better fortune than to be asked to dine with him. So, in 
 the very thick of a battle, Tom's critical eye was scanning the squad- 
 rons engaged, with an accuracy as to the number of fresh horses 
 that would be required upon the morrow that nothing but long 
 practice and infinite coolness could have conferred. 
 
 Of the Guerilla I need not speak. The bold feats he accom- 
 plished, the aid he rendered to the cause of his country, have made 
 his name historical. Yet still, with all this, fatigue, more powerful 
 than my curiosity, prevailed, and I sank into a heavy sleep upon the 
 grass, while my merry companions kept up their revels till near 
 morning. The last piece of consciousness I am sensible of was see- 
 ing Julian spreading his wide mantle over me as I lay, while I 
 heard his deep voice whisper a kind wish for my repose. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXV. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF FUENTES D'ONOEO. 
 
 SO soundly did I sleep, that the tumult and confusion of the 
 morning never awoke me ; and the Guerilla, whose cavalry 
 were stationed along the edge of the ravine near the heights 
 of Echora, would not permit of my being roused before the last 
 moment. Mike stood near me with my horses, and it was only when 
 the squadrons were actually forming that I sprang to my feet and 
 looked around me. 
 
 The day was just breaking. A thick mist lay upon the parched 
 earth, and concealed everything a hundred yards from where we 
 stood. From this dense vapor the cavalry defiled along the ba$e of 
 the hill, followed by the horse artillery and the Guards, disappear- 
 ing as they passed us, but proving, by the mass of troops now 
 
524 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 assembled, that our position was regarded as the probable point of 
 attack. 
 
 While the troops continued to take up their position, the sun 
 shone out, and a light breeze blowing at the same moment, the 
 heavy clouds moved past, and we beheld the magnificent panorama 
 of the battle-field. Before us, at the distance of less than half a 
 league, the French cavalry were drawn up in three strong columns. 
 The Cuirassiers of the Guard, plainly distinguishable by their steel 
 cuirasses, flanked by the Polish lancers and a strong hussar brigade; 
 a powerful artillery train supported the left, and an infantry force 
 occupied the entire space between the right and the rising ground 
 opposite P090 Velho. Farther to the right again, the columns des- 
 tined for the attack of Fuentes d'Onoro were forming, and we could 
 see that, profiting by their past experience, they were bent upon 
 attacking the village with an overwhelming force. 
 
 For above two hours the French continued to manoeuvre, more 
 than one alteration having taken place in their disposition. Fresh 
 battalions were moved towards the front, and gradually the whole 
 of their cavalry were assembled on the extreme left in front of our 
 position. Our people were ordered to breakfast where we stood ; 
 and a little after seven o'clock a staff officer came riding down the 
 line, followed in a few moments after by General Craufurd, when no 
 sooner was his well-known brown cob recognized by the troops, than 
 a hearty cheer greeted him along the whole division. 
 
 " Thank ye, boys ; thank ye, boys, with all my heart ! No man 
 feels more sensibly what that cheer means than I do. Guards! 
 Lord Wellington relies upon your maintaining this position, which 
 is essential to the safety of the whole line. You will be supported 
 by the light division. I need say no more. If such troops cannot 
 keep their ground, none can. There's your place, 14th ; the artil- 
 lery and the 16th are with you. They've the odds of us in numbers, 
 lads ; but it will tell all the better in the Gazette. I see they're 
 moving ; so fall in, now, fall in ; and, Merivale, move to the front. 
 Eamsey, prepare at once to open your fire on the attacking squad- 
 rons." 
 
 As he spoke, the low murmuring sound of distantly-moving cav- 
 alry crept along the earth, growing louder and louder, till at length 
 we could detect the heavy tramp of the squadrons as they cam.e on 
 in a trot, our pace being merely a walk. While we thus advanced 
 into the plain, the artillery unlimbered behind us, and the Spanish 
 cavalry, breaking into skirmishers, dashed boldly to the front. 
 
 It was an exciting moment. The ground dipped between the two 
 armies, so as to conceal the head of the advancing column of the 
 French, and as the Spanish skirmishers disappeared down the 
 
THE BATTLE OF FUENTES D'ONORO. 525 
 
 ridge, our beating hearts and straining eyes followed their last 
 horseman. 
 
 " Halt ! halt !" was passed from squadron to squadron, and the 
 same instant the sharp ring of the pistol-shots and the clash of steel 
 from the valley told us the battle had begun. We could hear the 
 Guerilla war-cry mingle with the French shout, while the thickening 
 crash of fire-arms implied a sharper conflict. Our fellows were 
 already manifesting some impatience to press on, when a Spanish 
 horseman appeared above the ridge ; another followed, and another, 
 and then pell-mell, broken and disordered, they fell back before the 
 pursuing cavalry in flying masses ; while the French, charging them 
 hotly home, utterly routed and repulsed them. 
 
 The leading squadrons of the French now fell back upon their 
 support; the column of attack thickened, and a thundering noise 
 between their masses announced their brigade of light guns as they 
 galloped to the front. It was then for the first time I felt dispirited; 
 far as my eye could stretch, the dense mass of sabres extended, de- 
 filing from the distant hills and winding its slow length across the 
 plain. I turned to look at our line, scarce one thousand strong, and 
 could not help feeling that our hour was come. The feeling flashed 
 vividly across my mind, but the next instant I felt my cheek redden 
 with shame as I gazed upon the sparkling eyes and bold looks around 
 me— the lips compressed, the hands knitted to their sabres ; all were 
 motionless, but burning to advance. 
 
 The French had halted on the brow of the hill to form, when 
 Merivale came cantering up to us. 
 
 " Fourteenth, are you ready ? Are you ready, lads ?" 
 
 " Eeady, sir ! ready !" re-echoed along the line. 
 
 " Then push them home and charge ! Charge I" cried he, raising 
 his voice to a shout at the last word. 
 
 Heavens ! what a crash was there ! Our horses, in top condition, 
 no sooner felt the spur than they bounded madly onwards. The 
 pace — for the distance did not exceed four hundred yards — was like 
 racing. To resist the impetus of our approach was impossible ; and 
 without a shot fired, scarcely a sabre-cut exchanged, we actually 
 rode down their advanced squadrons — hurling them headlong upon 
 their supporting division, and rolling men and horses beneath us on 
 every side. The French fell back upon their artillery ; but before 
 they could succeed in opening their fire upon us, we had wheeled, 
 and, carrying off about seventy prisoners, galloped back to our posi- 
 tion with the loss of but two men in the affair. The whole thing 
 was so sudden, so bold, and so successful, that I remember well, as 
 we rode back, a hearty burst of laughter was ringing through the 
 squadron at the ludicrous display of horsemanship the French pre- 
 
526 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 sented as they tumbled headlong down the hill ; and I cannot help 
 treasuring the recollection, for, from that moment, all thought of 
 anything short of victory completely quitted my mind, and many of 
 my brother officers, who had participated in my feelings at the com- 
 mencement of the day, confessed to me afterwards that it was then 
 for the first time they felt assured of beating the enemy. 
 
 While we slowly fell back to our position, the French were seen 
 advancing in great force from the village of Almeida, to the attack 
 of Poco Velho ; they came on at a rapid pace, their artillery upon 
 their front and flank, large masses of cavalry hovering around them. 
 The attack upon the village was now opened by the large guns ; and 
 amid the booming of the artillery and the crashing volleys of small 
 fire-arms, rose the shout of the assailants, and the wild cry of the 
 Guerilla cavalry, who had formed in front of the village. The 
 French advanced firmly, driving back the pickets, and actually 
 inundated the devoted village with a shower of grape ; the blazing 
 fires burst from the ignited roofs ; and the black, dense smoke rising 
 on high, seemed to rest like a pall over the little hamlet. 
 
 The conflict now was a tremendous one. Our seventh division held 
 the village with the bayonet ; but the French, continuing to pour in 
 mass upon mass, drove them back with loss, and, at the end of an 
 hour's hard fighting, took possession of the place. 
 
 The wood upon the left flank was now seen to swarm with light 
 infantry, and the advancement of their whole left proved that they 
 meditated to turn our flank. The space between the village and the 
 hill of Naval d'Aver thus became the central position ; and here 
 the Guerilla force, led on by Julian Sanches, seemed to await the 
 French with confidence. Soon, however, the cuirassiers came gal- 
 loping to the spot, and, almost without exchanging a sabre-cut, the 
 Guerillas fell back, and retired behind the Turones. This move- 
 ment of Julian was more attributable to anger than to fear ; for his 
 favorite lieutenant, being mistaken for a French officer, was shot by 
 a soldier of the Guards a few minutes before. 
 
 Montbrun pursued the Guerillas with some squadrons of horse, but 
 they turned resolutely upon the French, and not till overwhelmed 
 by numbers did they show any disposition to retreat. 
 
 The French, however, now threw forward their whole cavalry, and, 
 driving back the English horse, succeeded in turning the right of 
 the seventh division. The battle by this time was general. The 
 staff officers who came up from the left informed us that Fuentes 
 d'Onoro was attacked in force, Massena himself leading the assault 
 in person ; while thus for seven miles the fight was maintained 
 hotly at intervals, it was evident that upon the maintenance of our 
 position the fortune of the day depended. Hitherto we had been 
 
THE BATTLE OF FUENTES D'ONORO. 527 
 
 repulsed from the village and the wood ; and the dark masses of 
 infantry which were assembled upon our right seemed to threaten 
 the hill of Naval d'Aver with as sad a catastrophe. 
 
 Craufurd now came galloping up amongst us, his eye flashing fire, 
 and his uniform splashed and covered with foam. 
 
 " Steady, 16th, steady ! Don't blow your horses ! Have your 
 fellows advanced, Malcolm?" said he, turning to an officer who 
 stood beside him. "Ay, there they go I" pointing with his finger to 
 the wood, where, as he spoke, the short ringing of the British rifle 
 proclaimed the advance of that brigade. " Let the cavalry prepare 
 to charge 1 And now, Ramsey, let us give it them home 1" 
 
 Scarcely were the words spoken, when the squadrons were formed, 
 and in an instant after the French light infantry were seen retreat- 
 ing from the wood, and flying in disorderly masses across the plain. 
 Our squadrons, riding down amongst them, actually cut them to 
 atoms, while the light artillery, unlimbering, threw in a deadly dis- 
 charge of grape-shot. 
 
 " To the right, 14th, to the right !" cried General Stewart. " Have 
 at their hussars f 
 
 Whirling by them, we advanced at a gallop, and dashed towards 
 the enemy, who, not less resolutely bent, came boldly forward to 
 meet us. The shock was terrific! the leading squadrons on both 
 sides went down almost to a man, and, all order being lost, the en- 
 counter became one of hand to hand. 
 
 The struggle was deadly ; neither party would give way ; and, 
 while fortune now inclined hither and thither, Sir Charles Stewart 
 singled out the French General Lamotte, and carried him off his 
 prisoner. Meanwhile, Montbrun's cavalry and the cuirassiers came 
 riding up, and, the retreat now sounding through our ranks, we 
 were obliged to fall back upon the infantry. The French pursued 
 us hotly ; and so rapid was their movement, that, before Ramsey's 
 brigade could limber up and away, their squadrons had surrounded 
 him and captured his guns. 
 
 " Where is Ramsey ?" cried Craufurd, as he galloped to the head 
 of our division. " Cut off— cut off ! Taken, by G — ! There he 
 goes !" said he, pointing with his finger, as a dense cloud of mingled 
 smoke and dust moved darkly across the plain. " Form into column 
 once more !" 
 
 As he spoke, the dense mass before us seemed agitated by some 
 mighty commotion ; the flashing of blades, and the rattling of small 
 arms, mingled with shouts of triumph or defiance, burst forth, and 
 the ominous cloud, lowering more darkly, seemed peopled by those 
 in deadly strife. An English cheer pealed high above all other 
 sounds ; a second followed ; the mass was rent asunder, and, like the 
 
528 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 forked lightning from a thunder-cloud, Ramsey rode forth at the 
 head of his battery, the horses bounding madly, while the guns 
 sprang behind them like things of no weight ; the gunners leaped to 
 their places, and fighting hand to hand with the French cavalry, 
 they flew across the plain. 
 
 " Nobly done, gallant Ramsey !" said a voice behind me. I turned 
 at the sound ; it was Lord Wellington who spoke. My eye fixed 
 upon his stern features, I forgot all else ; when he suddenly recalled 
 me to my recollection by saying, 
 
 " Follow your brigade, sir. Charge !" 
 
 In an instant I was with my people, who, intervening betwixt 
 Ramsey and his pursuers, repulsed the enemy with loss, and carried 
 off several prisoners. The French, however, came up in greater 
 strength ; overwhelming masses of cayalry came sweeping upon us, 
 and we were obliged to retire behind the light division, which rapidly 
 formed into squares to resist the cavalry. The seventh division, 
 which was more advanced, were, however, too late for this movement, 
 and, before they could effect their formation, the French were upon 
 them. At this moment they owed their safety to the Chasseurs 
 Britanniques, who poured in a flanking fire, so close, and with so 
 deadly an aim, that their foes recoiled, beaten and bewildered. 
 
 Meanwhile, the French had become masters of P090 Velho ; the 
 formidable masses had nearly outflanked us on the right. The battle 
 was lost, if we could not fall back upon our original position, and 
 concentrate our force upon Fuentes d'Onoro. To effect this was a 
 work of great difficulty ; but no time was to be lost. The seventh 
 division were ordered to cross the Turones, while Craufurd, form- 
 ing the light division into squares, covered their retreat, and, sup- 
 ported by the cavalry, sustained the whole force of the enemy's 
 attack. 
 
 Then was the moment to witness the cool and steady bravery of 
 British infantry ; the squares dotted across the enormous plain 
 seemed as nothing amid that confused and flying multitude, com- 
 posed of commissariat baggage, camp-followers, peasants, and, 
 finally, broken pickets and videttes arriving from the wood. A 
 cloud of cavalry hovered and darkened around them ; the Polish 
 lancers shook their long spears, impatient of delay, and the wild 
 huzzas burst momentarily from their squadrons as they waited for 
 the word to attack. But the British stood firm and undaunted ; and 
 although the enemy rode round their squares, Montbrun himself 
 at their head, they never dared to charge them. Meanwhile, the 
 seventh division fell back, as if on a parade, and crossing the river, 
 took up their ground at Frenada, pivoting upon the first division ; 
 the remainder of the line also fell back, and assumed a position at 
 
THE BATTLE OF FUENTES D'ONORO. 529 
 
 right angles with their former one, the cavalry forming in front, and 
 holding the French in check during the movement. This was a 
 splendid manoeuvre, and, when made in face of an overnumbering 
 enemy, one unmatched during the whole war. 
 
 At sight of this new front the French stopped short, and opened 
 a fire from their heavy guns. The British batteries replied with 
 vigor, and silenced the enemy's cannon. The cavalry drew out of 
 range, and the infantry gradually fell back to their former position. 
 While this was going on, the attack upon Fuentes d'Onoro was con- 
 tinued with unabated vigor. The three British regiments in the 
 lower town were pierced by the French tirailleurs, who poured upon 
 them in overwhelming numbers ; the 79th were broken, ten com- 
 panies taken, and Cameron, their colonel, mortally wounded. Thus 
 the lower village was in the hands of the enemy, while from the 
 upper town the incessant roll of musketry proclaimed the obstinate 
 resistance of the British. 
 
 At this period our reserves were called up from the right, in time 
 to resist the additional troops which Drouet continued to bring on. 
 The French, reinforced by the whole sixth corps, now came forward 
 at a quick step. Dashing through the ruined streets of the lower 
 town, they crossed the rivulet, fighting bravely, and charged against 
 the height. Already their leading files had gained the crag beside 
 the chapel. A French colonel, holding his cap upon his sword-point, 
 waved on his men. 
 
 The grizzly features of the grenadiers soon appeared, and the dark 
 column, half climbing, half running, were seen scaling the height. 
 A rifle-bullet sent the French leader tumbling from the precipice ; 
 and a cheer — mad and reckless as the war-cry of an Indian — rent 
 the sky, as the 71st and 79th Highlanders sprang upon the enemy. 
 
 Our part was a short one ; advancing in half-squadrons, we were 
 concealed from the observation of the enemy by the thick vineyards 
 which skirted the lower town, waiting with impatience the moment 
 when our gallant kifantry should succeed in turning the tide of 
 battle. We were ordered to dismount, and stood with our bridles 
 on our arms, anxious and expectant. The charge of the French 
 column was made close to where we were standing — th^ inspiriting 
 cheers of the officers, the loud vivas of the men, were plainly heard 
 by us as they rushed to the assault ; but the space between us was 
 intersected by walls and brushwood, which totally prevented the 
 movements of cavalry. 
 
 Fearlessly their dark column moved up the heights, fixing the 
 
 bayonets as they went. No tirailleurs preceded them, but the tall 
 
 shako of the Grenadier of the Guard was seen in the first rank. 
 
 Long before the end of the column had passed us, the leading files 
 
 34 
 
530 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 were in action. A deafening peal of musketry — so loud, so dense, it 
 seemed like artillery — burst forth. A volume of black smoke rolled 
 heavily down from the heights and hid all from our view, except 
 when the vivid lightning of the platoon firing rent the veil asunder, 
 and showed us the troops almost in hand to hand conflict. 
 
 " It's Picton's division, I'm certain," cried Merivale ; " I hear the 
 bagpipes of the Highlanders." 
 
 " You are right, sir," said Hampden ; " the 71st are in the same 
 brigade, and I know their bugles well. There they go again 1" 
 
 " Fourteenth ! Fourteenth !" cried a voice from behind, and at the 
 same moment a staff officer, without his hat, and his horse bleeding 
 from a recent sabre-cut, came up. " You must move to the rear, 
 Colonel Merivale ; the French have gained the heights ! Move 
 round by the causeway — bring up your squadrons as quickly as you 
 can, and support the infantry !" 
 
 In a moment we were in our saddles ; but scarcely was the word 
 to fall in given, when a loud cheer rent the very air ; the musketry 
 seemed suddenly to cease, and the dark mass which continued to 
 struggle up the heights wavered, broke, and turned. 
 
 " What can that be ?" said Merivale. " What can it mean ?" 
 
 " I can tell you, sir," said I, proudly, while I felt my heart as 
 though it would bound from my bosom. 
 
 " And what is it, boy ? Speak !" 
 
 " There it goes again ! That was an Irish shout ! The 88th are 
 at them I" 
 
 "By Jove! here they come!" said Hampden. "God help the 
 Frenchmen now !" 
 
 The words were not well spoken, when the red coats of our gallant 
 fellows were seen dashing through the vineyard. 
 
 " The steel, boys — nothing but the steel !" shouted a loud voice 
 from the crag above our heads. 
 
 I looked up. It was the stern Picton himself who spoke. 
 
 The 88th now led the pursuit, and sprang from rock to rock in all 
 the mad impetuosity of battle; and like some mighty billow rolling 
 before the gale, the French went down the heights. 
 
 " Gallant 88th ! Gloriously done !" cried Picton, as he waved his 
 hat. 
 
 " Aren't we Connaught robbers, now ?" shouted a rich brogue, as 
 its owner, breathless and bleeding, pressed forward in the charge. 
 
 A hearty burst of laughter mingled with the din of the battle. 
 
 " Now for it, boys ! Now for our work !" said old Merivale, draw- 
 ing his sabre as he spoke. " Forward ! and charge !" 
 
 We waited not a second bidding, but bursting from our conceal- 
 ment, galloped down into the broken column. It was no regular 
 
THE BATTLE OF FUENTES D'ONORO. 531 
 
 charge, but an indiscriminate rush. Scarcely offering resistance, 
 the enemy fell beneath our sabres, or the still more deadly bayonets 
 of the infantry, who were inextricably mixed up in the conflict. 
 
 The chase was followed up for above half a mile, when we fell 
 back, fortunately in good time ; for the French had opened a heavy 
 fire from their artillery, and, regardless" of their own retreating 
 column, poured a shower of grape among our squadrons. As we 
 retired, the struggling files of the Eangers joined us — their faces and 
 accoutrements blackened and begrimed with powder; many of them, 
 themselves wounded, had captured prisoners ; and one huge fellow 
 of the grenadier company was seen driving before him a no less 
 powerful Frenchman, and to whom, as he turned from time to time 
 reluctantly, and scowled upon his gaoler, the other vociferated some 
 Irish imprecation, whose harsh intentions were made most palpably 
 evident by a flourish of a drawn bayonet. 
 
 " Who is he V said Mike ; " who is he, ahagur?" 
 
 " Sorra one o' me knows," said the other ; " but it's the chap that 
 shot Lieutenant Mahony, and I never took my eye off him after ; 
 and if the Lieutenant's not dead, sure it'll be a satisfaction to him 
 that I cotch him." 
 
 **■****••*■* 
 
 The lower town was now evacuated by the French, who retired 
 beyond the range of our artillery ; the upper continued in the occu- 
 pation of our troops. Worn out and exhausted, surrounded by 
 dead and dying, both parties abandoned the contest — and the battle 
 was over. 
 
 Both sides laid claim to the victory ; the French, because, having 
 taken the village of P090 Velho, they had pierced the British line, 
 and compelled them to fall back and assume a new position ; the 
 British, because the attack upon Fuentes d'Onoro had been success- 
 fully resisted, and the blockade of Almeida — the real object of the 
 battle — maintained. The loss to each was tremendous : fifteen hun- 
 dred men and officers, of whom three hundred were prisoners, were 
 lost by the allies, and a far greater number fell among the forces of 
 the enemy. 
 
 After the action, a brigade of the light division released the troops 
 in the village, and the armies bivouacked once more in sight of each 
 other. 
 
532 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A RENCONTRE. 
 
 THE day after the battle, as I awoke from a sound and heavy 
 slumber, the result of thirteen hours on horseback, the first 
 paragraph of a general order, dated Fuentes d'Onoro, arrested 
 my attention. " Lieutenant O'Malley, 14th Light Dragoons, to serve 
 as extra aide-de-camp to Major-General Craufurd, until the pleasure 
 of his Eoyal Highness the Prince Eegent is known." 
 
 A staff appointment was not exactly what I desired at the mo- 
 ment ; but I knew that with Craufurd, my duties were more likely 
 to be at the pickets and advanced posts of the army than in the 
 mere details of note-writing or despatch-bearing ; besides that, I felt, 
 whenever anything of importance was to be done, I should always 
 obtain his permission to do duty "with my regiment. 
 
 Taking a hurried breakfast, therefore, I mounted my horse, and 
 cantered over to Villa Formosa, where the General's quarters were, 
 to return thanks for my promotion, and take the necessary steps for 
 assuming my new functions. 
 
 Although the sun had risen about two hours, the fatigue of the 
 previous day had impressed itself upon all around. The cavalry, 
 men and horses, were still stretched upon the sward, sunk in sleep ; 
 the videttes, weary and tired, seemed anxiously watching for the 
 relief, and the disordered and confused appearance of everything 
 bespoke that discipline had relaxed its stern features, in compassion 
 for the bold exertions of the preceding day. The only contrast to 
 this general air of exhaustion and weariness on every side was a 
 corps of sappers, who were busily employed upon the high grounds 
 above the village. Early as it was, they seemed to have been at 
 work some hours — at least so their labors bespoke ; for already a 
 rampart of considerable extent had been thrown up, stockades im- 
 planted, and a breastwork was in a state of active preparation. The 
 officer of the party, wrapped up in a loose cloak, and mounted upon 
 a sharp-looking hackney, rode hither and thither, as the occasion 
 warranted, and seemed, as well as from the distance I could guess, 
 something of a tartar. At least I could not help remarking how at 
 his approach the several inferior officers seemed "suddenly so much 
 more on the alert, and the men worked with an additional vigor and 
 activity. I stopped for some minutes to watch him, and seeing an 
 engineer captain of my acquaintance among the party, couldn't re- 
 sist calling out : 
 
 " I say, Hachard, your friend on the chestnut mare must have had 
 an easier day yesterday than some of us, or I'll be hanged if he'd be 
 
A RENCONTRE. 533 
 
 so active this morning." Hachard hung his head in some confu- 
 sion, and did not reply ; and, on my looking round, whom should I 
 see before me but the identical individual I had been so coolly criti- 
 cising, and who, to my utter horror and dismay, was no other than 
 Lord Wellington himself. I did not wait for a second peep. Hel- 
 ter-skelter, through water, thickets, and brambles, away I went, 
 clattering down the causeway like a madman. If a French squad- 
 ron had been behind me, I should have had a stouter heart, although 
 I did not fear pursuit. I felt his eye was upon me — his sharp and 
 piercing glance, that shot like an arrow into me; and his firm look 
 stared at me in every object around. 
 
 Onward I pressed, feeling in the very recklessness of my course 
 some relief to my sense of shame, and ardently hoping that some 
 accident— some smashed arm or broken collar-bone — might befall 
 me, and rescue me from any notice my conduct might otherwise call 
 for. I never drew rein till I reached the Villa Formosa, and pulled 
 up short at a small cottage, where a double sentry apprised me of 
 the General's quarters. As I came up, the low lattice sprang quickly 
 open, and a figure, half dressed and more than half asleep, protruded 
 his head. 
 
 "Well, what has happened? Anything wrong?" said he, whom 
 I now recognized to be General Craufurd. 
 
 "No; nothing wrong, sir," stammered I, with evident confusion. 
 " I'm merely come to thank you for your kindness in my behalf." 
 
 " You seemed in a devil of a hurry to do it, if I'm to judge by the 
 pace you came at. Come in and take your breakfast with us ; I 
 shall be dressed presently, and you'll meet some of your brother 
 aides-de-camp." 
 
 Having given my horse to an orderly, I walked into a little room, 
 whose humble accommodations and unpretending appearance 
 seemed in perfect keeping with the simple and unostentatious char- 
 acter of the General. The preparations for a good and substantial 
 breakfast were, however, before me, and an English newspaper of a 
 late date spread its most ample pages to welcome me. I had not 
 been long absorbed in my reading, when the door opened, and the 
 General, whose toilet was not yet completed, made his appearance. 
 
 " Egad, O'Malley, you startled me this morning. I thought we 
 were in for it again." 
 
 I took this as the most seasonable opportunity to recount my mis- 
 hap of the morning, and accordingly, without more ado, detailed the 
 unlucky meeting with the Commander-in-Chief. When I came to 
 the end, Craufurd threw himself into a chair and laughed till the 
 very tears coursed down his bronzed features. 
 
 " You don't say so, boy ? You don't really tell me you said that? 
 
534 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 By Jove ! I would rather have faced a whole platoon of musketry 
 than have stood in your shoes! You did not wait for a reply, I 
 think?" 
 
 " No, faith, sir, that I did not !" 
 
 " Do you suspect he knows you?" 
 
 " I trust not, sir ; the whole thing passed so rapidly." 
 
 " Well, it's most unlucky in more ways than one I" He paused 
 for a few moments as he said this, and then added, " Have you seen 
 the general order?" pushing towards me a written paper as he 
 spoke. It ran thus : 
 
 " G. O. Adjutant-General's Office, Villa Formosa, 
 
 " May 6, 1811. • 
 
 " Memorandum. — Commanding officers are requested to send in to 
 the Military Secretary, as soon as possible, the names of officers they 
 may wish to have promoted in succession to those who have fallen 
 in action." 
 
 " Now, look at this list. The Hon. Harvey Howard, Grenadier 
 
 Guards, to be First Lieutenant, vice . No, not that. Henry 
 
 Beauchamp — George Villiers. Ay, here it is ! Captain Lyttleton, 
 14th Light Dragoons, to be Major in the 3d Dragoon Guards, vice 
 Godwin, killed in action ; Lieutenant O'Malley to be Captain, vice 
 Lyttleton, promoted. You see, my boy, I did not forget you ; you 
 were to have had the vacant troop in your own regiment. Now, I 
 almost doubt the prudence of bringing your name under Lord Wel- 
 lington's notice. He may have recognized you, and if he did so, — 
 why, I rather think — that is, I suspect — I mean, the quieter you 
 keep the better." 
 
 While I poured forth my gratitude as warmly as I was able for 
 the General's great kindness to me, I expressed my perfect concur- 
 rence in his views. 
 
 " Believe me, sir," said I, " I should much rather wait any number 
 of years for my promotion than incur the risk of a reprimand ! — the 
 more so as it is not the first time I have blundered with his lord- 
 ship." I here narrated my former meeting with Sir Arthur, at which 
 Craufurd's mirth again burst forth, and he paced the room holding 
 his sides in an ecstasy of merriment. 
 
 " Come, come, lad, we'll hope for the best ; we'll give you the 
 chance that he has not seen your face, and send the list forward as 
 it is. But here come our fellows." 
 
 As he spoke, the door opened, and three officers of his staff 
 entered, to whom, being severally introduced, we chatted away 
 about the news of the morning until breakfast. 
 
 " I've frequently heard of you from my friend Hammersley," said 
 
A RENCONTRE. 535 
 
 Captain Fitzroy, addressing me ; " you were intimately acquainted, 
 I believe ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Pray, where is he now ? We have not met for a long 
 time." 
 
 " The poor fellow's invalided ; that sabre-cut upon his head has 
 turned out a sad affair, and he's gone back to England on a sick 
 leave. Old Dashwood took him back with him as private secretary, 
 or something of that sort." 
 
 " Ah !" said another ; " Dashwood has daughters, hasn't he? No 
 bad notion of his, for Hammersley will be a baronet some of these 
 days, with a rent-roll of eight or nine thousand per annum." 
 
 " Sir George Dashwood," said I, " has but one daughter, and I 
 am quite sure that in his kindness to Hammersley no intentions of 
 the kind you mention were mixed up." 
 
 " Well, I don't know," said the third, a pale, sickly youth, with 
 handsome but delicate features. "I was on Dashwood's staff until 
 a few weeks ago, and certainly I thought there was something 
 going on between Hammersley and Miss Lucy, who, be it spoken, 
 is a devilish fine girl, though rather disposed to give herself airs." 
 
 I felt my cheek and my temples boiling like a furnace ; my hand 
 trembled as I lifted my coffee to my lips, and I would have given 
 my expected promotion twice over to have had any reasonable 
 ground of quarrel with the speaker. 
 
 " Egad, lads," said Craufurd, " that's the very best thing I know 
 about a command. As a bishop is always sure to portion off his 
 daughters with deaneries and rectories, so your knowing old general 
 always marries his among his staff." 
 
 This sally was met with the ready laughter of the subordinates, 
 in which, however little disposed, I was obliged to join. 
 
 "You are quite right, sir," rejoined the pale youth; "and Sir 
 George has no fortune to give his daughter." 
 
 " How came it, Horace, that you got off safe ?" said Fitzroy, with 
 a certain air of affected seriousness in his voice and manner ; "I 
 wonder they let such a prize escape them." 
 
 " Well, it was not exactly their fault, I do confess. Old Dash- 
 wood did the civil towards me ; and la betta Lucie herself was con- 
 descending enough to be less cruel than to the rest of the staff. Her 
 father threw us a good deal together ; and in fact I believe — I fear — 
 that is — that I didn't behave quite well." 
 
 " You may rest perfectly assured of it, sir," said I ; " whatever 
 your previous conduct may have been, you have completely relieved 
 your mind on this occasion, and behaved most shamefully !" 
 
 Had a shell fallen in the midst of us, the faces around me could 
 not have been more horror-struck than when, in a cool, determined 
 
536 CHARLES 0' MALLET. 
 
 tone, I spoke those few words. Fitzroy pushed his chair slightly 
 back from the table, and fixed his eyes full upon me. Craufurd 
 grew dark purple over his whole face and forehead, and looked 
 from one to the other of us, without speaking, while the honorable 
 Horace Delawar, the individual addressed, never changed a muscle 
 of his wan and sickly features, but, lifting his eyes slowly from his 
 muffin, lisped softly out, 
 
 " You think so ? How very good I" 
 
 " General Craufurd," said I, the moment I could collect myself 
 sufficiently to speak, " I am deeply grieved that I should so far have 
 forgotten myself as to disturb the harmony of your table ; but when 
 I tell you that Sir George Dashwood is one of my warmest friends 
 on earth ; that from my intimate knowledge of him, I am certain 
 that gentleman's statements are either the mere outpouring of folly, 
 or worse " 
 
 " By Jove, O'Malley, you have a very singular mode of explaining 
 away the matter. Delawar, sit down again. Gentlemen, I have 
 only one word to say about this transaction — I'll have no squabbles 
 or broils here ; from this room to the guard-house is a five minutes' 
 walk. Promise me, upon your honors, that this altercation ends here, 
 or, as sure as my name's Craufurd, you shall both be placed under 
 arrest, and the man who refuses to obey me shall be sent back to 
 England." 
 
 Before I well knew in what way to proceed, Mr. Delawar rose 
 and bowed formally to the General, while I imitated his example. 
 Silently we resumed our places, and after a pause of a few moments, 
 the current of conversation was renewed, and other topics discussed, 
 but with such evident awkwardness and constraint, that all parties 
 felt relieved when the General rose from the table. 
 
 " I say, O'Malley, have you forwarded the returns to the Adju- 
 tant-General's office ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I despatched them this morning before leaving my 
 quarters." 
 
 " I am glad of it ; the irregularities on this score have called forth 
 a heavy reprimand at head-quarters." 
 
 I was also glad of it, and it chanced that by mere accident I re- 
 membered to charge Mike with the papers, which, had they not 
 been lying unsealed upon the table before me, would in all likeli- 
 hood have escaped my attention. The post started to Lisbon that 
 same morning, to take advantage of which I had sat up writing for 
 half the night. Little was I aware at the moment what a mass of 
 trouble and annoyance was in store for me from the circumstance. 
 
ALMEIDA. 537 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII, 
 
 ALMEIDA. 
 
 ON the morning of the 7th we perceived, from a movement in 
 the French camp, that the wounded were being sent to the 
 rear, and shortly afterwards the main body of the army com- 
 menced its retreat. They moved with slow and, as it were, reluctant 
 steps ; and Bessidres, who commanded the Imperial Guard, turned 
 his eyes more than once to that position which all the bravery of his 
 troops was unavailing to capture. Although our cavalry lay in 
 force to the front of our line, no attempt was made to molest the 
 retreating French ; and Massena, having retired beyond the Aguada, 
 left a strong force to watch the ford, while the remainder of the 
 army fell back upon Ciudad Rodrigo. 
 
 During this time we had succeeded in fortifying our position at 
 Fuentes d'Onoro so strongly as to resist any new attack, and Lord 
 Wellington now turned his whole attention to the blockade of 
 Almeida, which, by Massena's retreat, was now abandoned to its 
 fate. 
 
 On the morning of the 10th, I accompanied General Craufurd in 
 a reconnaissance of the fortress, which, from the intelligence we had 
 lately received, could not much longer hold out against our block- 
 ade. The fire from the enemy's artillery was, however, hotly main- 
 tained, and, as night fell, some squadrons of the 14th, who were 
 picketed near, were unable to light their watch-fires, being within 
 reach of their shot. As the darkness increased, so did the can- 
 nonade, and the bright flashes from the walls and the deep booming 
 of the artillery became incessant. 
 
 A hundred conjectures were afloat to account for the circum- 
 stance; some asserting that what we heard were mere signals to 
 Massena's army; and others, that Brennier was destroying and 
 mutilating the fortress before he evacuated it to the allies. 
 
 It was a little past midnight when, tired from the fatigues of the 
 day, I had fallen asleep beneath a tree, an explosion, louder than 
 any which preceded it, burst suddenly forth, and, as I awoke and 
 looked about me, I perceived the whole heavens illuminated by one 
 bright glare, while the crashing noise of falling stones and crumb- 
 ling masonry told me that a mine had been sprung. The moment 
 after all was calm, and still, and motionless ; a thick black smoke 
 increasing the sombre darkness of the night, shut out every star 
 from view, and some drops of heavy rain began to fall. 
 
 The silence, ten times more appalling than the din which pre- 
 ceded it, weighed heavily upon my senses, and a dread of some un- 
 
538 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 known danger crept over me ; the exhaustion, however, was greater 
 than my fear, and again I sank into slumber. 
 
 Scarcely had I been half an hour asleep, when the blast of a 
 trumpet again awoke me, and I found, amid the confusion and ex- 
 citement about, that something of importance had occurred. Ques- 
 tions were eagerly asked on all sides, but no one could explain what 
 had happened. Towards the town all was still as death, but a drop« 
 ping irregular fire of musketry issued from the valley beside the 
 Aguada. "What can this mean? what can it be?" we asked of 
 each other. "A sortie from the garrison," said one; "A night 
 attack by Massena's troops," cried another ; and, while thus we dis- 
 puted and argued, a horseman was heard advancing along the road 
 at the top of his speed. 
 
 " Where are the cavalry ?" cried a voice I recognized as one of 
 my brother aides-de-camp. " Where are the 14th ?" 
 
 A cheer from our party answered this question, and the next 
 moment, breathless and agitated, he rode in amongst us. 
 
 "What is it? are we attacked?" 
 
 " Would to heaven that were all ! But come along, lads, follow 
 me." 
 
 " What can it be, then?" said I again, while my anxiety knew no 
 bounds. 
 
 " Brennier has escaped ; burst his way through Pack's division, 
 and has already reached Valde Mula." 
 
 " The French have escaped !" was repeated from mouth to mouth ; 
 while, pressing spurs to our horses, we broke into a gallop, and 
 dashed forward in the direction of the musketry. We soon came 
 up with the 36th Infantry, who having thrown away their knap- 
 sacks, were rapidly pressing the pursuit. The maledictions which 
 burst from every side proved how severely the misfortune was felt 
 by all, while the eager advance of the men bespoke how ardently 
 they longed to repair the mishap. 
 
 Dark as was the night, we passed them in a gallop. Suddenly 
 the officer who commanded the leading squadron called out to halt. 
 
 " Take care there, lads !" cried he ; " I hear the infantry before 
 us ; we shall be down upon our own people." 
 
 The words were hardly spoken, when a bright flash blazed out 
 before us, and a smashing volley was poured into the squadron. 
 
 "The French! the French, by Jove!" said Hampden. "For- 
 ward, boys ! charge them !" 
 
 Breaking into open order, to avoid our wounded comrades, several 
 of whom had fallen by the fire, we rode down amongst them. In 
 a moment their order was broken, their ranks pierced, and, fresh 
 squadrons coming up at the instant, they were sabred to a man. 
 
A NIGHT ON THE AZA VA. 539 
 
 After this the French pursued their march in silence, and, even 
 when assembling in force we rode down upon their squares, they 
 never halted nor fired a shot. At Barba del Puerco, the ground 
 being unfit for cavalry, the 36th took our place, and pressed them 
 hotly home. Several of the French were killed, and above threo 
 hundred made prisoners, but our fellows following up the pursuit 
 too rashly, came upon an advanced body of Massena's force, drawn 
 up to await and cover Brennier's retreat ; the result was the loss of 
 above thirty men in killed and wounded. 
 
 Thus were the great efforts of the three preceding days rendered 
 fruitless and nugatory. To maintain this blockade, Lord Welling- 
 b ton, with an inferior force, and a position by no means strong, had 
 ventured to give the enemy battle ; and now, by the unskilfulness 
 of some and the negligence of others, were all his combinations 
 thwarted, and the French General enabled to march his force 
 through the midst of the blockading columns almost unmolested 
 and uninjured. 
 
 Lord Wellington's indignation was great, as well it might be ; the 
 prize for which he had contested was torn from his grasp at the very 
 moment he had won it, and although the gallantry of the troops 
 in pursuit might, under other circumstances, have called forth 
 eulogium, his only observation on the matter was a half-sarcastic 
 allusion to the inconclusive effects of undisciplined bravery. " Not- 
 withstanding," says the general order of the day, " what has been 
 printed in gazettes and newspapers, we have never seen small bodies, 
 unsupported, successfully opposed to large ; nor has the experience 
 of any officer realized the stories which all have read, of whole 
 armies being driven by a handful of light infantry and dragoons." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII. 
 
 A NIGHT ON THE AZAVA. 
 
 M 
 
 "ASSENA was now recalled, and Marmont having assumed 
 the command of the French army, retired towards Sala- 
 manca, while our troops went into cantonments upon the 
 Aguada. A period of inaction succeeded to our previous life of 
 bustle and excitement, and the whole interest of the campaign was 
 now centred in Beresford's army, exposed to Soult in Estremadura. 
 On the 15th, Lord Wellington set out for that province, having 
 already directed a strong force to march upon Badajos. 
 
540 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "Well, O'Malley," said Craufurd, as he returned from bidding 
 Lord Wellington good-bye, " your business is all right ; the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief has signed my recommendation, and you will get 
 your troop." 
 
 * While I continued to express my grateful acknowledgments for 
 his kindness, the General, apparently inattentive to all I was saying, 
 paced the room with hurried steps, stopping every now and then to 
 glance at a large map of Spain which covered one wall of the apart- 
 ment, while he muttered to himself some broken and disjointed 
 sentences. 
 
 " Eight leagues — too weak in cavalry — with the left upon Fuenta 
 Grenaldo — a strong position. O'Malley, you'll take a troop of dra- 
 goons and patrol the country towards Castro; you'll reconnoitre the" 
 position the sixth corps occupies, but avoid any collision with the 
 enemy's pickets, keeping the Azava between you and them. Take 
 rations for three days." 
 
 " When shall I set out, sir?" 
 
 "Now !" was the reply. 
 
 Knowing with what pleasure the hardy veteran recognized any- 
 thing like alacrity and despatch, I resolved to gratify him; and, 
 before half an hour had elapsed, was ready with my troop to receive 
 his final orders. 
 
 " Well done, boy !" said he, as he came to the door of the hut, 
 " you've lost no time. I don't believe I have any further instruc- 
 tions to give you ; to ascertain as far as possible the probable move- 
 ment of the enemy is my object, that's all." As he spoke this, he 
 waved his hand, and wishing me "Good-bye," walked leisurely 
 back into the house. I saw that his mind was occupied by other 
 thoughts; and although I desired to obtain some more accurate 
 information for my guidance, knowing his dislike to questions, I 
 merely returned his salute, and set forth upon my journey. 
 
 The morning was beautiful ; the sun had risen about an hour, and 
 the earth, refreshed by the heavy dew of the night, was breathing 
 forth all its luxuriant fragrance. The river, which flowed beside us, 
 was clear as crystal, showing beneath its eddying current the 
 shining, pebbly bed, while upon the surface the water-lilies floated 
 or sank, as the motion of the stream inclined. The tall cork-trees 
 spread their shadows about us, and the richly-plumed birds hopped 
 from branch to branch, awaking the echoes with their notes. 
 
 It is but seldom that the heart of man is thoroughly attuned to 
 the circumstances of the scenery around him. How often do we 
 need a struggle with ourselves to enjoy the rich and beautiful land- 
 scape which lies smiling in its freshness before us ! How frequently 
 do the blue sky and the calm air look down upon the heart dark- 
 
A NIGHT ON THE AZA VA. 541 
 
 ened and shadowed with affliction ! And how often have we felt 
 the discrepancy between the louring look of winter and the glad 
 sunshine of our hearts ! The harmony of the world without with 
 our thoughts within is one of the purest, as it is one of the greatest, 
 sources of happiness. Our hopes and our ambitions lose their selfish 
 character when feeling that fortune smiles upon us from all around; 
 and the flattery which speaks to our hearts from the bright stars 
 and the blue sky, the peaked mountain, or the humble flower, 
 is greater in its mute eloquence than all the tongue of man can 
 tell us. 
 
 This feeling did I experience in all its fulness, as I ruminated 
 upon my bettered fortunes, and felt within myself that secret instinct 
 that tells of happiness to come. In such moods of mind my thoughts 
 strayed ever homeward, and I could not help confessing how little 
 were my successes in my eyes, did I not hope for the day when I 
 should pour forth my tale of war and battle-fields to the ears of those 
 who loved me. 
 
 I resolved to write home at once to my uncle. I longed to tell 
 him each incident of my career, and my heart glowed as I thought 
 over the broken and disjointed sentences which every cottier around 
 would whisper of my fortunes, far prouder as they would be in the 
 humble deeds of one they knew, than in the proudest triumphs of 
 a nation's glory. 
 
 Indeed, Mike himself gave the current to my thoughts. After 
 riding beside me some time in silence, he remarked, 
 
 "And isn't it Father Rush will be proud when he sees your honor's 
 a captain ; to think of the little boy that he used to take before him 
 on the ould gray mare for a ride down the avenue ; to think of him 
 being a real captain, six feet two without his boots, and galloping 
 over the French as if they were lurchers! Peggy Mahon, that 
 nursed you, will be the proud woman the day she hears it ; and 
 there won't be a soldier sober in his quarters that night in Portumna 
 barracks ! Ton my soul, there's not a thing with a red coat on it, 
 if it was even a scarecrow to frighten the birds from the barley, 
 that won't be treated with respect when they hear of the news." 
 
 The country through which we travelled was marked at every step 
 by the traces of a retreating army; the fields of rich corn lay flat- 
 tened beneath the tramp of cavalry, or the wheels of the baggage- 
 wagons ; the roads, cut up and nearly impassable, were studded here 
 and there with marks which indicated a bivouac; at the same time, 
 everything around bore a very different aspect from what we had 
 observed in Portugal ; there the vindictive cruelty of the French 
 soldiery had been seen in full sway. The ruined chateau, the burned 
 villages, the desecrated altars, the murdered peasantry, — all attested 
 
542 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 the revengeful spirit of a beaten and baffled enemy. No sooner, 
 however, had they crossed the frontiers, than, as if by magic, their 
 character became totally changed. Discipline and obedience suc- 
 ceeded to recklessness and pillage; and, instead of treating the 
 natives with inhumanity and cruelty, in all their intercourse with 
 the Spaniards the French behaved with moderation and even kind- 
 ness. Paying for everything, obtaining their billets peaceably and 
 quietly, marching with order and regularity, they advanced into the 
 heart of the country, showing, by the most irrefragable proof, the 
 astonishing evidences of a discipline which by a word could convert 
 the lawless irregularities of a ruffian soldiery into the orderly habits 
 ana" obedient conduct of a highly-organized army. 
 
 As we neared the Azava, the tracks of the retiring enemy became 
 gradually less perceptible, and the country, uninjured by the march, 
 extended for miles around us in all the richness and abundance of 
 a favored climate. The tall corn, waving its yellow gold, reflected 
 like a sea the clouds that moved slowly above it. The wild gentian 
 and the laurel grew thickly around, and the cattle stood basking in 
 the clear streams, while some listless peasant lounged upon the bank 
 beside them. Strange as all these evidences of peace and tranquillity 
 were, so near to the devastating track of a mighty army, yet I have 
 more than once witnessed the fact, and remarked how but a short 
 distance from the line of our hurried march, the country lay un- 
 touched and uninjured ; and though the clank of arms and the dull 
 roll of the artillery may have struck upon the ear of the far-off 
 dweller in his native valley, he listened as he would have done to 
 the passing thunder as it crashed above him; and when the bright 
 sky and pure air succeeded to the louring atmosphere and darkening 
 storm, he looked forth upon his smiling fields and happy home, 
 while he muttered to his heart a prayer of thanksgiving that the 
 scourge was passed. 
 
 We bivouacked upon the bank of the river— a truly Salvator Eosa 
 scene ; the rocks, towering high above us, were fissured by the chan- 
 nel of many a trickling stream, seeking, in its zigzag current, the 
 bright river below. The dark pine-tree and the oak mingled their 
 foliage with the graceful cedar, which spread its fan-like branches 
 about us. Through the thick shade some occasional glimpses of a 
 starry sky could yet be seen, and a faint yellow streak upon the silent 
 river told that the queen of night was there. 
 
 When I had eaten my frugal supper, I wandered forth alone upon 
 the bank of the stream, now standing to watch its bold sweeps as it 
 traversed the lonely valley before me, now turning to catch a pass- 
 ing glance at our red watch-fires, and the hardy features which sat 
 around. The hoarse and careless laugh, the deep-toned voice of 
 
A NIGHT ON THE AZA VA. 543 
 
 some old campaigner holding forth his tale of flood and field, were 
 the only sounds I heard ; and gradually I strolled beyond the reach 
 of even these. The path beside the river, which seemed scarped 
 from the rock, was barely sufficient for the passage of one man, a 
 rude balustrade of wood being the only defence against the preci- 
 pice, which, from a height of full thirty feet, looked down 'upon the 
 stream. Here and there some broad gleam of moonlight would fall 
 upon the opposite bank, which, unlike the one I occupied, stretched 
 out into rich meadow and pasturage, broken by occasional clumps 
 of ilex and beech. River scenery has been ever a passion with me. 
 I can glory in the bold and broken outline of a mighty mountain ; 
 I can gaze with delighted eyes upon the boundless sea, and know 
 not whether to like it more in all the mighty outpouring of its 
 wrath, when the white waves lift their heads to heaven, and break 
 themselves in foam upon the rocky beach, or in the calm beauty of 
 its broad and mirrored surface, in which the bright world of sun 
 and sky are seen full many a fathom deep. But far before these, I 
 love the happy and tranquil beauty of some bright river, tracing its 
 winding current through valley and through plain, now spreading 
 into some calm and waveless lake, now narrowing to an eddying 
 stream, with mossy rocks and waving trees darkening over it. 
 There's not a hut, however lowly, where the net of the fisherman is 
 stretched upon the sward, around whose hearth I do not picture 
 before me the faces of happy toil and humble contentment, while 
 from the ruined tower upon the crag, methinks I hear the ancient 
 sounds of wassail and of welcome ; and though the keep be fissured 
 and the curtain fallen, and though for banner there " waves some 
 tall wall-flower," I can people its crumbling walls with images of 
 the past; and the merry laugh of the warder and the clanking tread 
 of the mailed warrior are as palpably before me as the tangled 
 lichen that now trails from its battlements. 
 
 As I wandered on, I reached the little rustic stair which led down- 
 ward from the path to the river side ; and, on examining further, 
 perceived that in this place the stream was fordable ; a huge flat 
 rock, filling up a great part of the river's bed, occupied the middle, 
 on either side of which the current ran with increased force. 
 
 Bent upon exploring, I descended the cliff, and was preparing to 
 cross, when my attention was attracted by the twinkle of a fire at 
 some distance from me, on the opposite side ; the flame rose and 
 fell in fitful flashes, as though some hand were ministering to it at 
 the moment. As it was impossible, from the silence on every side, 
 that it could proceed from a bivouac of the enemy, I resolved on 
 approaching it and examining it for myself. I knew that the shep- 
 herds in remote districts were accustomed thus to pass the summer 
 
544 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 nights, with no other covering save the blue vault above them. It 
 was not impossible, too, that it might prove a Guerilla party, who 
 frequently, in small numbers, hang upon the rear of a retreating 
 army. Thus conjecturing, I crossed the stream, and quickening my 
 pace, walked forward in the direction of the blaze. For a moment a 
 projecting rock obstructed my progress ; while I was devising some 
 means of proceeding farther, the sound of voices near me arrested 
 my attention. I listened, and what was my astonishment to hear 
 that they spoke in French. I now crept cautiously to the verge of 
 the rock and looked over ; the moon was streaming in its full bril- 
 liancy upon a little shelving strand beside the stream, and here I 
 now beheld the figure of a French officer. He was habited in the 
 undress uniform of a chasseur a cheval, but wore no arms ; indeed, 
 his occupation at the moment was anything but a warlike one, he 
 being leisurely employed in collecting some flasks of champagne 
 which apparently had been left to cool within the stream. 
 
 " Eh bien,Alphonse," said a voice in the direction of the fire, "what 
 are you delaying for ?" 
 
 " I'm coming, I'm coming," said the other ; " but, par Dieu ! I can 
 only find five of our bottles; one seems to have been carried away 
 by the stream." 
 
 " No matter," replied the other, " we are but three of us, and one 
 is, or should be, on the sick list." 
 
 The only answer to this was the muttered chorus of a French 
 drinking-song, interrupted at intervals by an imprecation upon the 
 missing flask. It chanced at this moment that a slight clinking 
 noise attracted me, and on looking down I perceived at the foot of 
 the rock the prize he sought for. It had been, as he conceived, 
 carried away by an eddy of the stream, and was borne, as a true 
 prisoner of war, within my grasp. I avow that from this moment 
 my interest in the scene became considerably heightened } such a 
 waif as a bottle of champagne was not to be despised in circum- 
 stances like mine, and I watched with anxious eyes every gesture 
 of the impatient Frenchman, and alternately vibrated between hope 
 and fear, as he neared or receded from the missing flask. 
 
 "Let it go to the devil," shouted his companion once more. 
 " Jacques has lost all patience with you." 
 
 " Be it so, then," said the other as he prepared to take up his bur- 
 den. At this instant I made a slight effort to change my position, so 
 as to obtain a view of the rest of the party. The branch by which I 
 supported myself, however, gave way beneath my grasp with a loud 
 crash. I lost my footing, and slipping downward from the rock, 
 came plump into the stream below. The noise, the splash, and, 
 more than all, the sudden appearance of a man beside him, astounded 
 
A NIGHT ON THE AZAVA. 545 
 
 the Frenchman, who almost let fall his pannier, and thus we stood 
 confronting each other for at least a couple of minutes in silence. 
 A hearty burst of laughter from both parties terminated this awk- 
 ward moment, while the Frenchman, with the readiness of his 
 country, was the first to open the negotiation. 
 
 " 8acr6 Dieu I" said he, " what can you be doing here ? You're 
 English, without doubt." 
 
 " Even so," said I ; " but that is the very question I was about 
 to ask you ; what are you doing here ?" 
 
 " Eh Men" replied the other, gayly ; " you shall be answered in all 
 frankness. Our captain was wounded in the action of the 8th, and 
 we heard had been carried up the country by some peasants. As 
 the army fell back, we obtained permission to go in search of him. 
 For two days all was fruitless ; the peasantry fled at our approach ; 
 and although we captured some of our stolen property — among 
 other things, the contents of this basket — yet we never came upon 
 the track of our comrade till this evening. A good-hearted shep- 
 herd had taken him to his hut, and treated him with every kind- 
 ness, but no sooner did he hear the gallop of our horses and the 
 clank of our equipments, than, fearing himself to be made a pris- 
 oner, he fled up the mountains, leaving our friend behind him: 
 voild notre histoire. Here we are, three in all, one of us with a deep 
 sabre-cut in his shoulder. If you are the stronger party, we are, I 
 suppose, your prisoners ; if not " 
 
 What was to have followed, I know not, for at this moment his 
 companion, who had finally lost all patience, came suddenly to the 
 spot. 
 
 " A prisoner," cried he, placing a heavy hand upon my shoulder, 
 while with the other he held his drawn sword pointed towards my 
 breast. 
 
 To draw a pistol from my bosom was the work of a second ; and 
 while gently turning the point of his weapon away, I coolly said, — 
 
 " Not so fast, my friend, — not so fast ! The game is in my hands, 
 not yours. I have only to pull this trigger, and my dragoons are 
 upon you ; whatever fate befall me, yours is certain." 
 
 A half-scornful laugh betrayed the incredulity of him I addressed, 
 while the other, apparently anxious to relieve the awkwardness of 
 the moment, suddenly broke in with, — 
 
 " He is right, Auguste, and you are wrong ; we are in his power ; 
 that is," added he, smiling, " if he believes there is any triumph in 
 capturing such pauvres diables as ourselves." 
 
 The features of him he addressed suddenly lost their scornful ex- 
 pression, and sheathing his sword with an air of almost melo- 
 dramatic solemnity, he gravely pulled up his moustaches, and after 
 35 
 
54(5 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 a pause of a few seconds, solemnly ejaculated a malediction upon his 
 fortune. 
 
 " C'est toujours ainsi" said he, with a bitterness that only a French- 
 man can convey when cursing his destiny. " Soyez bon enfant, and 
 see what will come of it. Only be good-natured, only be kind, and 
 if you haven't bad luck at the end of it, it's only because fortune 
 has a heavier stroke in reserve for you hereafter." 
 
 I could not help smiling at the Frenchman's philosophy, which, 
 assuming as a good augury, he gayly said, " So, then, you'll not 
 make us prisoners. Isn't it so ?" 
 
 " Prisoners," said the other, " nothing of the kind. Come and sup 
 with us ; I'll venture to say our larder is as well stocked as your 
 own ; in any case an omelette, a cold chicken, and a glass of cham- 
 pagne, are not bad things in our circumstances." 
 
 I could not help laughing outright at the strangeness of the pro- 
 posal. " I fear I must decline," said I ; " you seem to forget that I 
 am placed here to watch, not to join you." 
 
 " A la bonne heure" cried the younger of the two ; " do both. 
 Come along; soyez bon camarade; you are always near your own 
 people ; so don't refuse us." 
 
 In proportion as I declined, they both became more pressing in 
 their entreaties, and at last I began to dread lest my refusal might 
 seem to proceed from some fear as to the good faith of the invita- 
 tion, and I never felt so awkwardly placed as when one plumply 
 pressed me by saying, 
 
 " Mais pourquoi pas, mon cherf 
 
 I stammered out something about duty and discipline, when they 
 both interrupted me by a long burst of laughter. 
 
 " Come, come !" said they ; " in an hour— in half an hour, if you 
 will— you shall be back with your own people. We've had plenty 
 of fighting latterly, and we are likely to have enough in future ; we 
 know something of each other by this time in the field ; let us see 
 how we get on in the bivouac !" 
 
 Resolving not to be outdone in generosity, I replied at once, 
 " Here goes, then !" 
 
 Five minutes afterwards, I found myself seated at their bivouac 
 fire. The captain, who was the oldest of the party, was a fine soldier- 
 like fellow of some forty years old. He had served in the Imperial 
 Guard, through all the campaigns of Italy and Austria, and abounded 
 in anecdotes of the French army. From him I learned many of 
 those characteristic traits which so eminently distinguish the im- 
 perial troops, and saw how completely their bravest and boldest 
 feats of arms depended upon the personal valor of him who led 
 them on. From the daring enterprise of Napoleon at Lodi to the 
 
A NIGHT ON THE AZA VA. 547 
 
 conduct of the lowest corporal in the grande armte, the picture pre- 
 sents nothing but a series of the most brilliant chivalrous feats ; 
 while at the same time, the war-like character of the nation is 
 displayed by that instinctive appreciation of courage and daring 
 which teaches them to follow their officers to the very cannon's 
 mouth. 
 
 " It was at Elchingen," said the captain, "you should have seen 
 them,. The regiment in which I was a lieutenant was ordered to 
 form close column, and charge through a narrow ravine to carry a 
 brigade of guns, which, by a flanking fire, were devastating our 
 troops. Before we could reach the causeway, we were obliged to 
 pass an open plain, in which the ground dipped for about a hundred 
 yards ; the column moved on, and, though it descended one hill, 
 not a man ever mounted the opposite one. A very avalanche of 
 balls swept the entire valley ; and yet, amid the thunder and the 
 smoke, the red glare of the artillery, and the carnage around them, 
 our grenadiers marched firmly up. At last, Marshal Ney sent an 
 aide-de-camp with orders to the troops to lie flat down, and in this 
 position the artillery played over us for about half an hour. The 
 Austrians gradually slackened, and finally discontinued their fire ; 
 this was the moment to resume the attack. I crept cautiously to 
 my knees, and looked about. One word brought my men around 
 me ; but I found to my horror that of a battalion who came into 
 action fourteen hundred strong, not five hundred remained, and 
 that I myself, a mere lieutenant, was now the senior officer of the 
 regiment. Our gallant colonel lay dead beside my feet. At this 
 instant a thought struck me. I remembered a habit he possessed, 
 in moments of difficulty and danger, of placing in his shako a small 
 red plume which he commonly carried in his belt. I searched for 
 it, and found it. As I held it aloft, a maddening cheer burst around 
 me, while from out the line each officer sprang madly forward, and 
 rushed to the head of the column. It was no longer a march. With 
 a loud cry of vengeance, the mass rushed forward, the men trying 
 to outstrip their officers, and come first in contact with the foe. Like 
 tigers on the spring, they fell upon the enemy, who, crushed, over- 
 whelmed, and massacred, lay in slaughtered heaps around the 
 cannon. The cavalry of the Guard came thundering on behind us, 
 a whole division followed, and three thousand five hundred pri- 
 soners and fourteen pieces of artillery were captured. 
 
 " I sat upon the carriage of a gun, my face begrimed with powder, 
 and my uniform blackened and blood-stained. The whole thing ap* 
 peared like some shocking dream. I felt a hand upon my shoulder, 
 while a rough voice called in my ear, 'Capitaine du soixante-nexwihue, 
 tu es monfitreP 
 
548 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "It was Ney who spoke. This/' added the brave captain, his 
 eyes filling with tears as he said the words,— "this is the sabre he 
 gave me." 
 
 I know not why I have narrated this anecdote ; it has little in 
 itself, but, somehow, to me it brings back in all its fulness the recol- 
 lection of that night. 
 
 There was something so strongly characteristic of the Old Napo- 
 leonist in the tone of the narrative that I listened throughout- with 
 breathless attention. I began to feel, too, for the first time, what a 
 powerful arm in war the Emperor had created by fostering the 
 spirit of individual enterprise. The field thus opened to fame and 
 distinction left no bounds to the ambition of any. The humble con- 
 script, as he tore himself from the embraces of his mother, wiped 
 his tearful eyes to see before him in the distance the button of a 
 marshal. The bold soldier who. stormed a battery, felt his heart 
 beat more proudly and more securely beneath the cordon of the 
 Legion than behind a cuirass of steel, and to a people in whom the 
 sense of duty alone would seem cold, barren, and inglorious, he had 
 substituted a highly-wrought chivalrous enthusiasm, and, by the 
 prestige of his own name, the proud memory of his battles, and the 
 glory of those mighty tournaments at which all Europe were the 
 spectators, he had converted a nation into an army. 
 
 By a silent and instinctive compact we appeared to avoid those 
 topics of the campaign in which the honor of our respective arms 
 was interested ; and once when, by mere accident, the youngest of 
 the party adverted to Fuentes d'Onoro, the old captain adroitly 
 turned the current of the conversation by saying, " Come, Alphonse, 
 let's have a song." 
 
 " Yes," said the other, "Le Pas de Charge." 
 
 " No, no," said the Captain ; " if I am to have a choice, let it be 
 that little Breton song you gave us on the Danube." 
 
 " So be it, then," said Alphonse. " Here goes !" 
 
 I have endeavored to convey, by a translation, the words he sang; 
 but I feel conscious how totally their feeling and simplicity are lost 
 when deprived of their own patois, and the wild but touching melody 
 that accompanied them. 
 
 "THE BRETON HOME." 
 
 . "When the battle is oe'r and the sounds of fight 
 
 Have closed with the closing day, 
 How happy, around the watch-fire's light, 
 
 To chat the long hours away ; 
 To chat the long hours away, my boy, 
 
 And talk of the days to come, 
 Or a better still, and a purer joy, 
 
 To think of our far-off home. 
 
A NIGHT ON THE AZA VA. 549 
 
 "How many a cheek will then grow pale, 
 
 That never felt a tear ! 
 And many a stalwart heart will quail, 
 
 That never quailed in fear ! 
 And the breast that, like some mighty rock, 
 
 Amid the foaming sea, 
 Bore high against the battle's shock, 
 
 Now heaves like infancy. 
 
 "And those who knew each other not 
 
 Tbcir hands together steal, 
 Each thinks of some long hallowed spot, 
 
 And all like brothers feel : 
 Such holy thoughts to all are given ; 
 
 The lowliest has his part ; 
 The love of home, like love of Heaven, 
 
 Is woven in our heart." 
 
 There was a pause as he concluded ; each sunk in his own reflect 
 tions. How long we should have thus remained, I know not ; but 
 we were speedily aroused from our reveries by the tramp of horses 
 near us. We listened, -and could plainly detect in their rude voices 
 and coarse laughter the approach of a body of Guerillas. We looked 
 from one to the other in silence and fear. Nothing could be more 
 unfortunate should we be discovered. Upon this point we were left 
 little time to deliberate ; for, with a loud cheer, four Spanish horse- 
 men galloped up to the spot, their carbines in the rest. The French- 
 men sprang to their feet, and seized their sabres, bent upon making 
 a resolute resistance. As for me, my determination was at once 
 taken. Remaining quietly seated upon the grass, I stirred not for 
 a moment, but addressing him who appeared to be the chief of the 
 Guerillas, said, in Spanish, 
 
 " These are my prisoners ; I am a British officer of dragoons, and 
 my party is yonder." 
 
 This evidently unexpected declaration seemed to surprise them, 
 and they conferred for a few moments together. Meanwhile, they 
 were joined by two others, in one of whom we could recognize', by 
 his costume, the real leader of the party. 
 
 " I am captain in the light dragoons," said I, repeating my decla- 
 ration. 
 
 "Morte de Dios!" replied he ; " it is false ; you are a spy !" 
 
 The word was repeated from lip to lip by his party, and I saw, in 
 their louring looks and darkening features, that the moment was a 
 critical one for me. 
 
 " Down with your arms !" cried he, turning to the Frenchmen. 
 " Surrender yourselves our prisoners ; I'll not bid you twice !" 
 
 The Frenchmen turned upon me an inquiring look, as though to 
 say that upon me now their hopes entirely reposed. 
 
550 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Do as he bids you," said I ; while at the same moment I sprang 
 to my legs, and gave a loud, shrill whistle, the last echo of which 
 had not died away in the distance ere it was replied to. 
 
 "Make no resistance now," said I to the Frenchmen; "our safety 
 depends on this." 
 
 While this was passing, two of the Spaniards had dismounted, 
 and, detaching a coil of rope which hung from their saddle-peak, 
 were proceeding to tie the prisoners wrist to wrist ; the others, with 
 their carbines to the shoulder, covered us man by man, the chief of 
 the party having singled out me as his peculiar prey. 
 
 " The fate of Mascarenhas might have taught you better," said he, 
 "than to play this game." And then added, with a grim smile, 
 " But we'll see if an Englishman will not make as good a carbonado 
 as a Portuguese !" 
 
 This cruel speech made my blood run cold, for I knew well to 
 what he alluded. I was at Lisbon at the time it happened, but the 
 melancholy fate of Julian Mascarenhas, the Portuguese spy, had 
 reached me there. He was burned to death "at Torres Vedras ! 
 
 The Spaniard's triumph over my terror was short-lived, indeed, 
 for scarcely had the words fallen from his lips, when a party of the 
 14th, dashing through the river at a gallop, came riding up. The 
 attitude of the Guerillas, as they sat with presented arms, was 
 sufficient for my fellows, who needed not the exhortation of him 
 who rode foremost of the party. 
 
 "Ride them down, boys! Tumble them over! Flatten their 
 broad beavers, the infernal thieves !" 
 
 " Whoop !" shouted Mike, as he rode at the chief, with the force 
 of a catapult. Down went the Spaniard, horse and all ; and before 
 he could disentangle himself, Mike was upon him, his knee pressed 
 upon his neck. 
 
 At Isn't it enough for ye to pillage the whole country, without 
 robbing the king's throops?" cried he, as he held him fast to the 
 earth with one hand, while he presented a loaded pistol to his face. 
 
 By this time the scene around me was sufficiently ludicrous. 
 Such of the Guerillas as had not been thrown by force from their 
 saddles, had slid peaceably down, and depositing their arms upon 
 the ground, dropped upon their knees in a semicircle around us, 
 and, amid the hoarse laughter of the troopers and the irrepressible 
 merriment of the Frenchmen, rose up the muttered prayers of the 
 miserable Spaniards, who believed that now their last hour was 
 come. 
 
 " Madre de Bios, indeed!" cried Mike, imitating the tone of a 
 repentant old sinner, in a patched mantle ; " it's much the blessed 
 Virgin thinks of the like o' ye, thieves and rogues as ye are ; it 
 
MIKE'S MISTAKE. 551 
 
 a'most puts me beyond my senses to see ye there crossing yourselves 
 like rale Christians." 
 
 If I could not help indulging myself in this retributive cruelty 
 towards the chief, and leaving him to the tender mercies of Mike, 
 I ordered the others to rise and form in line before me. Affecting 
 to occupy myself entirely with them, I withdrew the attention of 
 all from the French officers, who remained quiet spectators of the 
 scene around them. j 
 
 " Point defagons, gentlemen," said I, in a whisper. " Get to your 
 horses and away ! Now's your time. Good-bye !" 
 
 A warm grasp of the hand from each was the only reply, and I 
 turned once more to my discomfited friends, the Guerillas. 
 
 "There, Mike, let the poor devil rise. I confess appearances 
 were strong against me just now." 
 
 " Well, Captain, are you convinced by this time that I was not 
 deceiving you ?" 
 
 The Guerilla muttered some words of apology between his teeth, 
 and, while he shook the dust from his cloak, and arranged the broken 
 feather of his hat, cast a look of scowling and indignant meaning 
 upon Mike, whose rough treatment he had evidently not forgiven. 
 
 " Don't be looking at me that way, you black thief! or I'll " 
 
 " Hold there !" said I ; "no more of this. Come, gentlemen, we 
 must be friends. If I mistake not, we've got something like refresh- 
 ment at our bivouac. In any case you'll partake of our watch-fire 
 till morning." 
 
 They gladly accepted our invitation, and ere half an hour had 
 elapsed, Mike's performance in the part of host had completely 
 erased every unpleasant impression his first appearance gave rise 
 to ; and as for myself, when I did sleep at last, the contused mixture 
 of Spanish and Irish airs which issued from the thicket beside me, 
 proved that a most intimate alliance had grown up between the 
 parties. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 mike's mistake. 
 
 BEFORE daybreak the Guerillas were in motion. Having 
 taken a most ceremonious leave of us, they mounted their 
 horses and set out upon their journey. I saw their gaunt 
 figures wind down the valley, and watched them till they disappeared 
 in the distance. "Yes, brigands though they be," thought I, 
 
552 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " there is something fine, something heroic, in the spirit of their 
 unrelenting vengeance." The sleuth-hound never sought the lair 
 of his victim with a more ravening appetite for blood than they 
 track the retreating columns of the enemy. Hovering around the 
 line of march, they sometimes swoop down in masses, and carry off 
 part of the baggage, or the wounded. The wearied soldier, over- 
 come by heat and exhaustion, who drops behind his ranks, is their 
 certain victim ; the sentry on an advanced post is scarcely less so. 
 Whole pickets are sometimes attacked and carried off to a man ; 
 and when traversing the lonely passes of some mountain gorge, or 
 defiling through the dense shadows of a wooded glen, the stoutest 
 heart has felt a fear, lest from behind the rock that frowned above 
 him, or from the leafy thicket whose branches stirred without a breeze, 
 the sharp ring of a Guerilla carbine might sound his death knell. 
 
 It was thus in the retreat upon Corunna fell Colonel Lefebvre. 
 Ever foremost in the attack upon our rearguard, this gallant youth 
 (he was scarce six-and-twenty), a colonel of his regiment, and de- 
 corated with the Legion of Honor, led on every charge of his bold 
 " sabreurs" riding up to the very bayonets of our squares, waving 
 his hat above his head, and seeming actually to court his death- 
 wound ; but so struck were our brave fellows with his gallant bear- 
 ing, that they cheered him as he came on. 
 
 It was in one of these moments as, rising high in his stirrups, he 
 bore down upon the unflinching ranks of the British infantry, the 
 shrill whistle of a ball strewed the leaves upon the roadside, the 
 exulting shout of a Guerilla followed it, and the same instant 
 Lefebvre fell forward upon his horse's mane, a deluge of blood 
 bursting from his bosom. A broken cry escaped his lips — a last 
 effort to cheer on his men; his noble charger galloped forward 
 between our squares, bearing to us as our prisoner the corpse of his 
 rider. 
 
 " Captain O'Malley," said a mounted dragoon to the advanced 
 sentry at the bottom of the little hill upon which I was standing. 
 " Despatches from head-quarters, sir," delivering into my hands a 
 large sealed packet from the Adjutant-General's office. While he 
 proceeded to search for another letter of which he was the bearer, 
 I broke the seal and read as follows : 
 
 " Adjutant-General's Office, May 15. 
 "Sir, — On the receipt of this order you are directed, having pre- 
 viously resigned your command to the officer next in seniority, to 
 repair to head-quarters at Fuentes d'Onoro, there to report yourself 
 under arrest. 
 
 " I have the honor to be your obedient servant, 
 
 " George HorETON, Military Secretary." 
 
MIKE 'S MIST A KE. 553 
 
 " What the devil can this mean ?" said I to myself, as I read the 
 lines over again and again. " What have I done lately, or what 
 have I left undone, to involve me in this scrape? Ah!" thought 
 I, " to be sure, it can be nothing else. Lord Wellington did recog- 
 nize me that unlucky morning, and has determined not to let me 
 pass unpunished. How unfortunate. Scarcely twenty-four hours 
 have elapsed since fortune seemed to smile upon me from every 
 side, and now the very destiny I most dreaded stares me fully in the 
 face." A reprimand, or the sentence of a court-martial, I shrank 
 from with a coward's fear. It mattered comparatively little from 
 what source arising, the injury to my pride as a man and my spirit 
 as a soldier would be almost the same. 
 
 " This is the letter, sir," said the orderly, presenting me with a 
 packet, the address of which was in Power's handwriting. Eagerly 
 tearing it open, I sought for something which might explain my 
 unhappy position. It bore the same date as the official letter, and 
 ran thus : 
 
 " My Dear Charley : — I joined yesterday, just in time to enjoy 
 the heartiest laugh I have had since our meeting. If notoriety can 
 gratify you, by Jove you have it ; for Charles O'Malley and his man 
 Mickey Free are by-words in every mess from Villa Formosa to the 
 rear-guard. As it's only fair you should participate a little in the 
 fun you've originated, let me explain the cause. Your inimitable 
 man Mike, to whom it appears you entrusted the report of killed 
 and wounded for the Adjutant-General, having just at that moment 
 accomplished a letter to his friends at home, substituted his corres- 
 pondence for your returns, and, doubtless, sent the list of the casual- 
 ties as very interesting information to his sweetheart in Ireland- If 
 such be the case, I hope and trust she has taken the blunder in 
 better part than old Colbourn, who swears he'll bring you to a court- 
 martial, under Heaven knows what charges. In fact, his passion 
 has known no bounds since the event ; and a fit of jaundice has 
 given his face a kind of neutral tint between green and yellow, like 
 nothing, I know of, except the facings of the \ dirty Half-hundred.'* 
 
 " As Mr. Free's letter may be as great a curiosity to you as it has 
 been to us, I enclose you a copy of it, which Hopeton obtained for 
 me. It certainly places the estimable Mike in a strong light as a 
 despatch-writer. The occasional interruption to the current of the 
 letter, you will perceive, arises from Mike having used the pen of 
 a comrade, writing being doubtless an accomplishment forgotten in 
 the haste of preparing Mr. Free for the world ; and the amanuensis 
 
 * For the information of my unmilitary readers, I may remark that this sobriquet 
 was applied to the 50th Regiment. 
 
554 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 has, in more than one instance, committed to paper more than was 
 meant by the author : 
 
 Mrs. M'Gra :— Tear an ages, sure I need not be treating her 
 that way. Now, just say Mrs. Mary— ay, that'll do— Mrs. Mary, it's 
 maybe surprised you'll be to be reading a letter from your humble 
 servant, sitting on the top of the Alps.— Arrah, maybe it's not the 
 Alps ; but sure she'll never know— foment the whole French army, 
 with Bony himself and all his jinnerals— God be between us and 
 harm— ready to murther every mother's son of us, av they was able, 
 Molly darlin' ; but, with the blessing of Providence, and Lord Wel- 
 lington, and Mister Charles, we'll bate them yet, as we bate them 
 afore. 
 
 " ' My lips is wathering at the thought o' the plunder. I often 
 think of Tim Eiley that was hanged for sheep-stealing ; he'd be 
 worth his weight in gold here. 
 
 Mr. Charles is now a captain — devil a less— and myself might 
 be somethin' that same, but ye see I was always of a bashful nature, 
 and recommended the master in my place. "He's mighty young, 
 Mister Charles is," says my Lord Wellington to me,—" he's mighty 
 young, Mr. Free." " He is, my lord," says I ; " he's young, as you 
 obsarve, bu^he's as much devilment in him as many that might be 
 his father." " That's somethin', Mr. Free," says my lord ; " ye say 
 he comes from a good stock ?" " The rale sort, my lord," says I ; 
 " an ould, ancient family, that's spent every sixpence they had in 
 treating their neighbors. My father lived near him for years," — you 
 see, Molly, I said that to season the discoorse. " We'll make him a 
 captain," says my lord ; " but, Mr. Free, could we do nothing for 
 you?" "Nothing at present, my lord. When my friends come 
 into power," says I, " they'll think of me. There's many a little 
 thing to give away in Ireland, and they often find it mighty hard 
 to find a man for lord-lieutenant ; and if that same, or a tide-waiter's 
 
 place, was vacant " "Just tell me," says my Lord. "It's what 
 
 I'll do," says I. " And now, wishing you happy dreams, I'll take 
 my lave." Just so, Molly, it's hand and glove we are. A pleasant 
 face, agreeable manners, seasoned with natural modesty, and a good 
 pair of legs, — them's the gifts to push a man's way in the world. 
 And even with the ladies — but sure I am forgetting, my master was 
 proposed for, and your humble servant too, by two illigant creatures 
 in Lisbon ; but it wouldn't do, Molly, — it's higher nor that we'll be 
 looking — rale princesses, the devil a less. Tell Kitty Hannigan I 
 hope she's well: she was a desarving young woman in her situation 
 in life. Shusey Dogherty, at the cross-roads — if I don't forget the 
 name — was a good-looking slip too ; give her my affectionate saluta- 
 
MIKE'S MISTAKE. 555 
 
 tions, as we say in the Portuguese. I hope I'll be able to bear the 
 inclementuous nature of your climate when I go back ; but I can't 
 expect to stay long — for Lord Wellington can't do without me. We 
 play duets on the guitar together every evening. The master is 
 shouting for a blanket, so no more at present from 
 
 " ' Your very affectionate friend, 
 
 " ' Mickey Free. 
 
 " * P.S. — I don't write this myself, for the Spanish tongue puts me 
 out o' the habit of English. Tell Father Rush, if he'd study the 
 Portuguese, I'd use my interest for him with the Bishop of Toledo. 
 It's a country he'd like— no regular stations, but promiscuous eating 
 and drinking, and as pretty girls as ever confessed their sins.' 
 
 " My poor Charley, I think I am looking at you. I think I can see 
 the struggle between indignation and laughter, which every line of 
 this letter inflicts upon you. Get back as quickly as you can, and 
 we'll try if Craufurd won't pull you through the business. In any 
 case, expect no sympathy ; and if you feel disposed to be angry with 
 all who laugh at you, you had better publish a challenge in the next 
 general order. George Scott, of the Grays, bids me say that if you're 
 hard up for cash, he'll give you a couple of hundred for Mickey 
 Free. I told him I thought you'd accept it, as your uncle has the 
 breed of those fellows upon his estate, and might have no objection 
 to weed his stud. Hammersley's gone back with the Dashwoods, 
 but I don't think you need fear anything in that quarter. At the 
 same time, if you wish for success, make a bold push for the peerage 
 and half a dozen decorations, for Miss Lucy is most decidedly gone 
 wild about military distinction. As for me, my affairs go on well ; 
 I've had half a dozen quarrels with Inez, but we parted good friends, 
 and my bad Portuguese has got me out of all difficulties with papa, 
 who pressed me tolerably close as to fortune. I shall want your 
 assistance in this matter yet. If parchments will satisfy him, I think 
 I could get up a qualification ; but, somehow, the matter must be 
 done, for I'm resolved to have his daughter. 
 
 " The orderly is starting, so no more till we meet. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Fred Power." 
 
 " Godwin," said I, as I closed the letter, " I find myself in a scrape 
 at head-quarters ; you are to take the command of the detachment, 
 for I must set out at once." 
 
 " Nothing serious, I hope, O'Malley ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! nothing of consequence. A most absurd blunder of my 
 rascally servant." 
 
556 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " The Irish fellow yonder?" 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " He seems to take it easily, however." 
 
 " Oh, confound him ! he does not know what trouble he has in- 
 volved me in ; not that he'll care much when he does." 
 
 " Why, he does not seem to be of a very desponding temperament. 
 Listen to the fellow ! I'll be hanged if he's not singing !" 
 
 " I'm devilishly disposed to spoil his mirth. They tell me, how- 
 ever, he always keeps the troop in good humor; and see, the fellows 
 are actually cleaning his horses for him, while he is sitting on the 
 bank !" 
 
 " Faith, O'Malley, that fellow knows the world. Just hear him." 
 
 Mr. Free was, as described, most leisurely reposing on a bank, a 
 mug of something drinkable beside him, and a pipe of that curtailed 
 proportion which an Irishman loves held daintily between his fin- 
 gers. He appeared to be giving his directions to some soldiers of 
 the troop, who were busily cleaning his horses and accoutrements 
 for him. 
 
 " That's it, Jim ! Rub 'em down along the hocks ; he won't kick; 
 it's only play. Scrub away, honey ; that's the devil's own carbine to 
 get clean." 
 
 " Well, I say, Mr. Free, are you going to give us that ere song ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I'll be hanged if I burnish your sabre if you don't sing." 
 
 " Tear an' ages ! ain't I composin' it ? Av I was Tommy Moore 
 I couldn't be quicker." 
 
 " Well, come along, my hearty ; let's hear it." 
 
 " Oh, murther," said Mike, draining the pot to its last few drops, 
 which he poured pathetically upon the grass before him, and then 
 having emptied the ashes from his pipe, he heaved a deep sigh, as 
 though to say, life had no pleasures in store for him. A brief pause 
 followed, after which, to the evident delight of his expectant audi- 
 ence, he began the following song, to the popular air of " Paddy 
 O'Carroll:" 
 
 " BAD LUCK TO THIS MARCHING." 
 
 " Bad luck to this marching, 
 
 Pipeclaying and starching, 
 How neat one must be to be killed by the French ! 
 
 I'm sick of parading, 
 
 Th rough wet and cowld wading, 
 Or standing all night to be shot in a trench. 
 
 To the tune of a fife 
 
 They dispose of your life, 
 You surrender your soul to some illigant lilt ; 
 
 Now, I like Garryowen, 
 
 When I hear it at home, 
 But it's not half so sweet when you're going to be kilt. 
 
MIKE'S MISTAKE. 557 
 
 " Then though up late and early, 
 
 Our pay comes so rarely 
 The devil a farthing we've ever to spare ; 
 
 They say some disaster 
 
 Befell the paymaster ; 
 On my conscience I think that the money's not there ! 
 
 And, just think, what a blunder, 
 
 They won't let us plunder, 
 While the convents invite us to rob them, 'tis clear. 
 
 Though there isn't a village 
 
 But cries, ' Come and pillage,' 
 Yet we leave all the mutton behind for Mounseer. 
 
 " Like a sailor that's nigh land, 
 
 I long for that island 
 Where even the kisses we steal if we please ; 
 
 Where it is no disgrace 
 
 If you don't wash your face, 
 And you've nothing to do but to stand at your ease. 
 
 With no sergeant t' abuse us, 
 
 We fight to amuse us, 
 Sure it's better bate Christians than kick a baboon. 
 
 How I'd dance like a fairy, 
 
 To see ould Dunleary, 
 And think twice ere I'd leave it to be a dragoon !" 
 
 " There's a sweet little bit for you," said Mike, as he concluded, 
 "thrown off as aisy as a game at football." 
 
 " I say, Mr. Free, the Captain's looking for you ; he's just re- 
 ceived despatches from the camp, and wants his horses." 
 
 " In that case, gentlemen, I must take my leave of you, with the 
 more regret, too, that I was thinking of treating you to a supper 
 this evening. You needn't be laughing — it's in earnest I am. 
 Coming, sir — coming !" shouted he, in a louder tone, answering 
 some imaginary call, as an excuse for his exit. 
 
 When he appeared before me, an air of most business-like alacrity 
 had succeeded to his late appearance, and having taken my orders 
 to get the horses in readiness, he left me at once, and in less than 
 half an hour we were upon the road. 
 
558 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 MAJOR MONSOON IN TROUBLE. 
 
 RIDING along towards Fuentes d'Onoro, I could not help 
 feeling provoked at the absurd circumstances in which I was 
 involved. To be made the subject of laughter for a whole 
 army was by no means a pleasant consideration ; but what I felt far 
 worse was, the possibility that the mention of my name in connec- 
 tion with a reprimand might reach the ears of those who knew 
 nothing of the cause. 
 
 Mr. Free himself seemed little under the influence of similar feel- 
 ings, for when, after two hours' silence, I turned suddenly towards 
 him with a half-angry look, and remarked, " You see, sir, what your 
 confounded blundering has done," his cool reply was, — 
 
 " Ah ! then, won't Mrs. M'Gra be frightened out of her life when 
 she reads all about the killed and wounded in your honor's report ? 
 I wonder if they ever had the manners to send my own letter after- 
 wards, when they found out their mistake !" 
 
 " Their mistake, do you say ? — rather yours! You appear to have 
 a happy knack of shifting blame from your own shoulders. Do you 
 fancy that they've nothing else to do than to trouble their heads 
 about your absurd letters ?" 
 
 " Faith, it's easily seen you never saw my letter, or you wouldn't 
 be saying that ; and sure it's not much trouble it would give Colonel 
 Fitzroy, or any o' the staff that write a good hand, just to put in a 
 line to Mrs. M'Gra, to prevent her feeling alarmed about that mur- 
 thering paper. Well, well, it's God's blessing ! I don't think 
 there's anybody of the name of Mickey Free high up in the army 
 but myself, so that the family won't be going into mourning for me 
 on a false alarm." 
 
 I had not patience to participate in this view of the case, so that 
 I continued my journey without speaking. We had jogged along 
 for some time after dark, when the distant twinkle of the watch- 
 fires announced our approach to the camp. A detachment of the 
 14th formed the advanced post, and from the officer in command I 
 learned that Power was quartered at a small mill about half a mile 
 distant. Thither I accordingly turned my steps, but finding that 
 the path which led abruptly down to it was broken and cut up in 
 many places, I sent Mike back with the horses, and continued my 
 way alone on foot. 
 
 The night was deliciously calm, and as I approached the little 
 rustic mill, I could not help feeling struck with Power's taste in a 
 billet. 
 
MA JOE MONSOON IN TROUBLE. 559 
 
 A little vine-clad cottage, built close against a rock, nearly con- 
 cealed by the dense foliage around it, stood beside a clear rivulet 
 whose eddying current supplied water to the mill, and rose in a 
 dew-like spray, which sparkled like gems in the pale moonlight. 
 All was still within, but as I came nearer, I thought I could detect 
 the chords of a guitar. "Can it be," thought I, "that Master Fred 
 has given himself up to minstrelsy ! or is it some little dress re- 
 hearsal for a serenade ? But no," thought I, " that certainly is not 
 Power's voice." I crept stealthily down the little path, and ap- 
 proached the window; the lattice lay open, and, as the curtain 
 waved to and fro with the night air, I could see plainly all who 
 were in the room. 
 
 Close beside the window sat a large, dark-featured Spaniard, his 
 hands crossed upon his bosom, and his head inclined heavily for- 
 ward, the attitude perfectly denoting deep sleep, even had not his 
 cigar, which remained passively between his lips, ceased to give 
 forth its blue smoke-wreath. At a little distance from him sat a 
 young girl, who, by the uncertain light, I could perceive was pos- 
 sessed of all that delicacy of form and gracefulness of carriage which 
 characterize her nation. 
 
 Her pale features — paler still from the contrast with her jet-black 
 hair and dark costume — were lit up with an expression of animation 
 and enthusiasm, as her fingers swept rapidly and boldly across the 
 strings of a guitar. 
 
 " And you're not tired of it yet ?" said she, bending her head 
 downward towards one whom I now for the first time perceived. 
 
 Eeclining carelessly at her feet, his arm leaning upon her chair, 
 whilst his hand occasionally touched her taper fingers, lay my good 
 friend, Master Fred Power. An undress jacket thrown loosely open, 
 and a black neckcloth negligently knotted, bespoke the easy noncha- 
 lance with which he prosecuted his courtship. 
 
 " Do sing it again ?" said he, pressing her fingers to his lips. 
 
 What she replied I could not catch ; but Fred resumed : " No, no, 
 he never wakes ; the infernal clatter of that mill is his lullaby." 
 
 " But your friend will be here soon," said she. " Is it not so ?" 
 
 " Oh, poor Charley ! I'd almost forgotten him ; by the bye, you 
 musn't fall in love with him, There now, do not look angry. I 
 only meant that, as I knew he'd be desperately smitten, you 
 shouldn't let him fancy he got any encouragement." 
 
 " What would you have me do?" said she, artlessly. 
 
 " I have been thinking over that, too. In the first place, you'd 
 better never let him hear you sing ; scarcely ever smile ; and, as far 
 as possible, keep out of his sight." 
 
 " One would think, Senhor, that all these precautions were to be 
 
560 CHARLES O y M ALLEY. 
 
 taken more on my account than his. Is he so very dangerous, 
 then ?" 
 
 " Not a bit of it ! Good-looking enough he is, but — only a boy ; 
 at the same time a devilish bold one ! and he'd think no more of 
 springing through that window, and throwing his arms around your 
 neck, the very first moment of his arrival, than I should of whis- 
 pering how much I love you." 
 
 " How very odd he must be ! I'm sure I should like him." 
 
 " Many thanks to both for your kind hints ; and now to take ad- 
 vantage of them." So saying, I stepped lightly upon the window- 
 sill, cleared the miller with one spring, and before Power could 
 recover his legs, or Margeritta her astonishment, I clasped her in my 
 arms, and kissed her on either cheek, 
 
 " Charley ! Charley ! that won't do!" cried Fred ; while the young 
 lady, evidently more amused at his discomfiture than affronted at 
 the liberty, threw herself into a seat and laughed immoderately. 
 
 "Ha! Hilloa there! What is't?" shouted the miller, rousing 
 himself from his nap, and looking eagerly around. "Are they 
 coming? Are the French coming?" 
 
 A hearty^ renewal of his daughter's laughter was the only reply, 
 while Power relieved his anxiety by saying, — 
 
 " No, no, Pedrillo, not the French ; a mere marauding party — 
 nothing more. I say, Charley," continued he, in a lower tone, 
 " you had better lose no time in reporting yourself at head -quarters. 
 We'll walk up together. Devilish awkward scrape yours." 
 
 " Never fear, Fred ; time enough for all that. For the present, 
 if you permit me, I'll follow up my acquaintance with our fair 
 friend here." 
 
 " Gently, gently !" said he, with a look of most imposing serious- 
 ness. " Don't mistake her ; she's not a mere country girl : you 
 understand? — been bred in a convent here— rather superior kind of 
 thing." 
 
 " Come, come, Fred, I'm not the man to interfere with you for a 
 moment." 
 
 " Good night, Senhor," said the old miller, who had been waiting 
 patiently all this time to pay his respects before going. 
 
 " Yes, that's it," said Power, eagerly. " Good-night, Pedrillo." 
 
 "Bvonos noches" lisped out Margeritta, with a slight curtsey. 
 
 I sprang forward to acknowledge her salutation, when Power 
 coolly interposed between us, and closing the door after them, 
 placed his back against it. 
 
 " Master Charley, I must read you a lesson " 
 
 " You inveterate hypocrite, don't attempt this nonsense with me. 
 But come, tell me how long you have been here ?" 
 
MAJOR MONSOON IN TROUBLE. 561 
 
 " Just twenty-four of the shortest hours I ever passed at an out- 
 post. Bv.t listen — do you know that voice ? Isn't it O'Shaugh- 
 nessy ?" 
 
 " To be sure it is. Hear the fellow's song ?" 
 
 " My father cared little for shot or shell, 
 
 He laughed at death and dangers ; 
 
 And he'd storm the very gates of hell 
 
 With a company of the ' Rangers.' 
 
 So sing tow, row, row, row, row," &c. 
 
 "Ah then, Mister Power, it's twice I'd think of returning your 
 visit, if I knew the state of your avenue. If there's a grand jury in 
 Spain, they might give you a presentment for this bit of road. My 
 knees are as bare as a commissary's conscience, and I've knocked 
 as much flesh off my shin-bones as would make a cornet in the Hus- 
 sars !" 
 
 A regular roar of laughter from both of us apprised Dennis of our 
 vicinity. 
 
 "And it's laughing ye are? Wouldn't it be as polite just to hold 
 a candle or lantern for me in this confounded watercourse ?" 
 
 " How goes it, Major V cried I, extending my hand to him through 
 the window. 
 
 " Charley — Charley O'Malley, my son ! I'm glad to see you. It's 
 a hearty laugh you gave us this morning. My friend Mickey's a 
 pleasant fellow for a secretary-at-war. But it's all settled now; 
 Craufurd arranged it for you this afternoon." 
 
 " You don't say so ! Pray tell me all about it." 
 
 " That's just what I won't ; for, ye see, I don't know it ; but I 
 believe old Monsoon's affair has put everything out of their heads." 
 
 "Monsoon's affair! what is that? Out with it, Dennis." 
 
 " Faith, I'll be just as discreet about that as your own business. 
 All I can tell you is, that they brought him up to head-quarters this 
 evening with a sergeant's guard, and they say he's to be tried by 
 court-martial ; and Picton is in a blessed humor about it." 
 
 "What could it possibly have been? Some plundering affair, 
 depend on it." 
 
 " Faith, you may swear it wasn't for his little charities, as Dr. 
 Pangloss calls them, they've pulled him up," cried Power. 
 
 " Maurice is in high feather about it," said Dennis. " There are 
 five of them up at Fuentes, making a list of the charges to send to 
 Monsoon ; for Bob Mahon, it seems, heard of the old fellow's doings 
 up the mountains." 
 
 " What glorious fun !" said Power. " Let's haste and join them, 
 boys." 
 
 "Agreed," said I. " Is it far from this ?" 
 36 
 
562 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "Another stage. When we've got something to eat," said the 
 Major, " if Power has any intentions that way " 
 
 " Well, I really did begin to fear Fred's memory was lapsing ; 
 but somehow, poor fellow, smiles have been more in his way than 
 sandwiches lately." 
 
 An admonishing look from Power was his only reply, as he walked 
 towards the door. Bent upon" teasing him, however, I continued, 
 
 " My only fear is, he may do something silly." 
 
 " Who? Monsoon, is it ?" 
 
 " No, no. Not Monsoon ; another friend of ours." 
 
 " Faith, I scarcely thought your fears of old Monsoon were called 
 for. He's a fox — the devil a less." 
 
 " No, no, Dennis. I wasn't thinking of him. My anxieties were 
 for a most soft-hearted young gentleman — one Fred Power." 
 
 " Charley, Charley !" said Fred, from the door where he had been 
 giving directions to his servant about supper. "A man can scarce 
 do a more silly thing than marry in the army ; all the disagreeables 
 of married life, with none of its better features." 
 
 "Marry — marry!" shouted O'Shaughnessy ; "upon my con- 
 science, it's incomprehensible to me how a man can be guilty of it. 
 To be sure, I don't mean to say that there are not circumstances — 
 such as half-pay, old age, infirmity, the loss of your limbs, and the 
 like ; but that, with good health and a small balance at your bank- 
 er's, you should be led into such an embarrassment " 
 
 "Men will flirt," said I, interrupting; "men will press taper 
 fingers, look into bright eyes, and feel their witchery ; and, although 
 the fair owners be only quizzing them half the time, and amusing 
 themselves the other, and though they be hackneyed coquettes " 
 
 " Did you ever meet the Dalrymple girls, Dennis ?" said Fred, 
 with a look I shall never forget. 
 
 What the reply was I cannot tell. My shame and confusion were 
 overwhelming, and Power's victory complete. 
 
 " Here comes the prog," cried Dennis, as Power's servant entered 
 with a very plausible-looking tray, while Fred proceeded to place 
 before us a strong army of decanters. 
 
 Our supper was excellent, and we were enjoying ourselves to the 
 utmost, when an orderly sergeant suddenly opened the door, and 
 raising his hand to his cap, asked if Major Power was there. 
 
 " A letter for you, sir." 
 
 " Monsoon's writing, by Jove ! Come, boys, let us see what it 
 means. What a hand the old fellow writes! The letters look 
 all crazy, and are tumbling against each other on every side. Did 
 you ever see anything half so tipsy as the crossing of that t ?" 
 
 " Read it ! Read it out, Fred !" 
 
MA JOB MONSOON IN TROUBLE. 563 
 
 " ' Tuesday Evening. 
 
 " ' Dear Power, — I'm in such a scrape ! Come up and see me 
 at once ; bring a little sherry with you, and we'll talk over what's to 
 be done. 
 
 " ' Yours ever, 
 
 "'B. Monsoon. 
 
 " ' Quarters-General.' " 
 
 We resolved to finish our evening with the Major ; so that, each 
 having armed himself with a bottle or two ; and the remnants of our 
 supper, we set out towards his quarters, under the guidance of the 
 orderly. After a sharp walk of half an hour, we reached a small 
 hut, where two sentries of the 88th were posted at the door. 
 
 O'Shaughnessy procured admittance for us, and in we went. At 
 a small table, lighted by a thin tallow candle, sat old Monsoon, who, 
 the weather being hot, had neither coat nor wig on ; an old cracked 
 china teapot, in which, as we found afterwards, he had mixed a 
 little grog, stood before him, and a large mass of papers lay scattered 
 around on every side ; he himself being occupied in poring over 
 their contents, and taking occasional draughts from his uncouth 
 goblet. 
 
 As we entered noiselessly, he never perceived us, but continued to 
 mumble over, in a low tone, from the documents before him : 
 
 " Upon my life, it's like a dream to me ! What infernal stuff this 
 brandy is ! 
 
 " ' Charge No. 8. — For conduct highly unbecoming an officer 
 and a gentleman, in forcing the cellar of the San Nicholas convent 
 at Banos, taking large quantities of wine therefrom, and subse- 
 quently compelling the Prior to dance a bolero, thus creating a riot, 
 and tending to destroy the harmony between the British and the 
 Portuguese, so strongly inculcated to be preserved by the general 
 orders.' 
 
 " Destroying the harmony ! Bless their hearts ! How little they 
 know of it ! I've never passed a jollier night in the Peninsula ! 
 The Prior's a trump, and, as for the bolero, he would dance it. I 
 hope they say nothing about my hornpipe. 
 
 " ' Charge No. 9. — For a gross violation of his duty as an officer, 
 in sending a part of his brigade to attack and pillage the Alcalde of 
 Banos, thereby endangering the public peace of the town, being a 
 flagrant breach of discipline and direct violation of the articles of 
 war.' 
 
 " Well, I'm afraid I was rather sharp on the Alcalde, but we did 
 no harm except the fright. What sherry the old fellow had ! 'twould 
 have been a sin to let it fall into the hands of the French. 
 
 " ' Charge No. 10. — For threatening, on or about the night of 
 
564 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 the 3d, to place the town of Banos under contribution, and subse- 
 quently forcing the authorities to walk in procession before him, in 
 absurd and ridiculous costumes.' 
 
 " Lord, how good it was ! I shall never forget the old Alcalde ! 
 One of my fellows fastened a dead lamb round his neck, and told 
 him it was the golden fleece. The Commander-in-Chief would have 
 laughed himself if he had been there. Picton is much too grave — 
 never likes a joke. 
 
 "'Charge No. 11. — For insubordination and disobedience, in 
 refusing to give up his sword, and rendering it necessary for the 
 Portuguese guard to take it by force, thereby placing himself in a 
 situation highly degrading to a British officer.' 
 
 " Didn't I lay about me before they got iti — Who's that ? — Who's 
 laughing there ? — Ah, boys ! I'm glad to see you. — How are you, 
 Fred ? — Well, Charley, I've heard of your scrape ; very sad thing 
 for so young a fellow as you are ; I don't think you'll be broke ; I'll 
 do what I can — I'll see what I can do with Picton ; we are very old 
 friends — were at Eton together." 
 
 " Many thanks, Major ; but I hear your own affairs are not flour- 
 ishing. What's all this court-martial about?" 
 
 "A mere trifle ; some little insubordination in the Legion. Those 
 Portuguese are sad dogs. How very good of you, Fred, to think of 
 that little supper." 
 
 While the Major was speaking, his servant, with a dexterity 
 the fruit of long habit, had garnished the table with the contents 
 of our baskets, and Monsoon, apologizing for not putting on his 
 wig, sat down amongst us with a face as cheerful as though the 
 floor was not covered with the charges of the court-martial to be 
 held on him. 
 
 As we chatted away over the campaign and its chances, Monsoon 
 seemed little disposed to recur to his own fortunes. In fact, he 
 appeared to suffer much more from what he termed my unlucky pre- 
 dicament than from his own mishaps. At the same time, as the 
 evening wore on, and the sherry began to tell upon him, his heart 
 expanded into its habitual moral tendency, and by an easy tran- 
 sition he was led from the religious association of convents to the 
 pleasures of pillaging them. 
 
 " What wine they have in their old cellars ! It's such fun drink- 
 ing it out of great silver vessels as old as Methuselah. ' There's 
 much treasure in the house of the righteous,' as David says; and 
 any one who has ever sacked a nunnery knows that." 
 
 " I should like to have seen that prior dancing the bolero," said 
 Power. 
 
 " Wasn't it good, though ! He grew jealous of me, for I performed 
 
MA JOE MONSOON IN TROUBLE. 565 
 
 a hornpipe. Very good fellow the Prior; not like the Alcalde — 
 there was no fun in him. Lord bless him ! he'll never forget me." 
 
 " What did you do with him, Major !" 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you ; but you musn't let it be known, for I see 
 they have not put it in the court-martial. Is there no more sherry 
 there? There, that will do; I'm always contented. 'Better a dry 
 morsel with quietness,' as Moses says. Ay, Charley, never forget 
 that ' a merry heart is just like medicine.' Job found out that, you 
 know." 
 
 "Well, but the Alcalde, Major." 
 
 " Oh ! the Alcalde, to be sure, these pious meditations make me 
 forget earthly matters." 
 
 " This old Alcalde at Banos, I found out was quite spoiled by Lord 
 Wellington. He used to read all the general orders, and got an 
 absurd notion in his head that, because we were his allies, we were 
 not allowed to plunder. Only think, he used to snap his fingers at 
 Beresford ; didn't care twopence about the Legion ; and laughed out- 
 right at Wilson. So, when I was ordered down there, I took another 
 way with him ; I waited till nightfall, ordered two squadrons to turn 
 their jackets, and sent forward one of my aides-de-camp with a few 
 troopers to the Alcalde's house. They galloped into the courtyard, 
 blowing trumpets and making an infernal hubbub. Down came the 
 Alcalde in a passion. — - Prepare quarters quickly, and rations for 
 eight hundred men/ 
 
 " ' Who dares to issue such an order ?' said he. 
 
 "The aide-de-camp whispered one word in his ear, and the old 
 fellow grew pale as death. 'Is he here? — Is he coming? — Is he 
 coming?' said he, trembling from head to foot. 
 
 " I rode in myself at this moment, looking thus 
 
 " ' Ow est le malheureux ? 7 said I, in French ; you know I speak 
 French like Portuguese." 
 
 " Devilish like, I've no doubt," muttered Power. 
 
 " ' Pardon, gracias eccellenza /' said the Alcalde, on his knees." 
 
 "Who the deuce did he take you for, Major?" 
 
 "You shall hear: you'll never guess, though. Lord! I shall 
 never forget it. He thought I was Marmont : my aide-de-camp told 
 him so." 
 
 One loud burst of laughter interrupted the Major at this moment, 
 and it was some considerable time before he could continue his 
 narrative. 
 
 "And do you really mean," said I, " that you personated the Duke 
 de Raguse ?" 
 
 " Did I not, though? If you had only seen me with a pair of 
 great moustaches, and a drawn sabre in my hand, pacing the room 
 
566 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 up and down in the presence of the assembled authorities. Napoleon 
 himself might have been deceived. My first order was to cut off all 
 their heads; but I commuted the sentence to a heavy fine. Ah, 
 boys ! if they only understood at headquarters how to carry on a war 
 in the Peninsula, they'd never have to grumble in England about 
 increased taxation. ,How I'd mulct the nunneries! How I'd grind 
 the corporate towns ! How I'd inundate the country with exchequer 
 bills ; I'd sell the priors so much a head, and put the nuns up to 
 auction by the dozen." 
 
 "You sacrilegious old villain ! But continue the account of your 
 exploits." 
 
 " Faith, I remember little more. After dinner I grew somewhat 
 mellow, and a kind of moral bewilderment which usually steals over 
 me about eleven o'clock induced me to invite the Alcalde and all 
 the aldermen to come and sup. Apparently we had a merry night 
 of it, and when morning broke, we were not quite clear in our intel- 
 lects. Hence came that infernal procession ; for when the Alcalde 
 rode round the town with a paper cap, and all the aldermen after 
 him, the inhabitants felt offended, it seems, and sent for a large 
 Guerilla force, who captured me and my staff, after a very vigorous 
 resistance. The Alcalde fought like a trump for us, for I promised 
 to make him Prefect of the Seine ; but we were overpowered, dis- 
 armed, and carried off. The remainder you can read in the court- 
 martial, for you may think that, after sacking the town, drinking 
 all night, and fighting in the morning, my memory was none of the 
 clearest." 
 
 " Did you not explain that you were not the Marshal-General?" 
 
 " No, faith — I knew better than that ; they'd have murdered me 
 had they known their mistake. They brought me to head-quarters, 
 in the hope of a great reward, and it was only when they reached 
 this that they found out I was not the Duke de Raguse ; so you see, 
 boys, it's a very complicated business." 
 
 " 'Gad, and so it is," said Power, "and an awkward one too." 
 
 "He'll be hanged, as sure as my name's Dennis!" vociferated 
 O'Shaughnessy, with an energy that made the Major jump from his 
 chair. " Picton will hang him !" v 
 
 " I'm not afraid," said Monsoon ; " they know me so well. Lord 
 bless you, Beresford couldn't get on without me." 
 
 " Well, Major," said I, " in any case, you certainly take no gloomy 
 nor desponding view of your case." 
 
 " Not I, boy. You know what Jeremiah says, — ' A merry heart 
 is a continual feast ;' and so it is. I may die of repletion, but they'll 
 never find me starved with sorrow." 
 
 "And, faith, it's a strange thing!" muttered O'Shaughnessy, 
 
THE CONFIDENCE. 567 
 
 thinking aloud — "a most extraordinary thing! An honest fellow 
 would be sure to be hanged ; and there's that old rogue, that's been 
 melting down more saints and blessed Virgins than the whole army- 
 together, he'll escape. Ye'll see he will !" 
 
 " There goes the patrol," said Fred ; " we must start.'' 
 
 " Leave the sherry, boys ; you'll be back again. I'll have it put 
 up carefully." 
 
 We could scarcely resist a roar of laughter as we said " Good- 
 night." 
 
 "Adieu, Major," said I ; " we shall meet soon." 
 
 So saying, I followed Power and O'Shaughnessy towards their 
 quarters. 
 
 " Maurice has done it beautifully !" said Power. " Pleasant reve- 
 lations the old fellow will make on the court-martial, if he only 
 remembers what we've heard to-night ! But here we are, Charley ; 
 so good-night ; and remember, you breakfast with me to-morrow." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE CONFIDENCE. 
 
 I HAVE changed the venue, Charley," said Power, as he came 
 into my room the following morning. " I've changed the venue, 
 and come to breakfast with you." 
 I could not help smiling, as a certain suspicion crossed my mind, 
 
 perceiving which, he quickly added, 
 
 " No, no, boy I I guess what you're thinking of. I'm not a bit 
 
 jealous in that quarter. The fact is, you know one cannot be too 
 
 guarded." 
 
 "Nor too suspicious of one's friends," apparently." 
 
 "A truce with quizzing. I say, have you reported yourself?" 
 
 "Yes; and received this moment a most kind note from the 
 
 General. But it appears that I am not destined to have a long 
 
 sojourn amongst you, for I'm desired to hold myself in readiness for 
 
 a journey this very day." 
 
 " Where the deuce are they going to send you now ?" 
 
 " I'm not certain of my destination. I rather suspect there are 
 
 despatches for Badajos. Just tell Mike to get breakfast, and I'll 
 
 join you immediately." 
 
 When I walked into the little room which served as my salon, I 
 
 found Power pacing up and down, apparently rapt in meditation. 
 
668 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "I've been thinking, Charley," said he, after a pause of about 
 ten minutes, — " I've been thinking over our adventures in Lisbon. 
 Devilish strange girl that Senhora! When you resigned in my 
 favor, I took it for granted that all difficulty was removed. Con- 
 found it I I no sooner began to profit by your absence, in pressing 
 my suit, than she turned short round, treated me with marked cold- 
 ness, exhibited a hundred wilful and capricious fancies, and con- 
 cluded one day by quietly confessing to me — you were the only man 
 she cared for." 
 
 " You are not serious in all this, Fred ?" said I. 
 
 " Ain't I, though, by Jove ! I wish to heaven I were not ! My 
 dear Charley, the girl is an inveterate flirt — a decided coquette. 
 Whether she has a particle of heart or not, I can't say ; but cer- 
 tainly her greatest pleasure is to trifle with that of another. Some 
 absurd suspicion that you were in love with Lucy Dash wood piqued 
 her vanity, and the anxiety to recover a lapsing allegiance led her 
 to suppose herself attached to you, and made her treat all my ad- 
 vances with the most frigid indifference or wayward caprice — the 
 more provoking," continued he, with a kind of bitterness in his 
 tone, " as her father was disposed to take the thing favorably ; and, 
 if I must say it, I felt devilish spoony about her myself. 
 
 " It was only two days before I left, that, in a conversation with 
 Don Emanuel, he consented to receive my addresses to his daughter 
 on my becoming lieutenant-colonel. I hastened back with delight 
 to bring her the intelligence, and found her with a lock of hair on 
 the book before her, over which she was weeping. Confound me, 
 if it was not yours ! I don't know what I said, nor what she replied ; 
 but when we parted, it was with a perfect understanding that we 
 were never to meet again. Strange girl ! She came that evening, 
 put her arm within mine as I was walking alone in the garden, and 
 half in jest, half in earnest, talked me out of all my suspicions, and 
 left me fifty times more in love with her than ever. Egad ! I thought 
 I used to know something about women, but here is a chapter I've 
 yet to read. Come now, Charley, be frank with me; tell me all 
 you know." 
 
 " My poor Fred ! if you were not head and ears in love, you would 
 see as plainly as I do that your affairs prosper. And after all, how 
 invariable is it that the man who has been the veriest flirt with 
 women — sighing, serenading, sonneteering, flinging himself at the 
 feet of every pretty girl he meets with — should become the most 
 thorough dupe to his own feelings when his heart is really touched. 
 Your man of eight-and-thirty is always the greatest fool about 
 women." 
 
 " Confound your impertinence ! How the devil can a fellow with 
 
THE CONFIDENCE. 569 
 
 a moustache not stronger than a Circassian's eyebrow read such a 
 lecture to me ?" 
 
 " Just for the very reason you've mentioned. You glide into an 
 attachment at my time of life ; you fall in love at yours." 
 
 " Yes," said Power, musingly, " there is some truth in that. This 
 flirting is sad work. It is just like sparring with a friend ; you put 
 on the gloves in perfect good humor, with the most friendly in- 
 tentions of exchanging a few amicable blows; you find yourself 
 insensibly warm with the enthusiasm of the conflict, and some un- 
 lucky hard knock decides the matter, and it ends in a downright fight. 
 
 " Few men, believe me, are regular seducers ; and among those 
 who behave * vilely' (as they call it), three-fourths of the number 
 have been more sinned against than sinning. You adventure upon 
 love as upon a voyage to India. Leaving the cold northern lati- 
 tudes of first acquaintance behind you, you gradually glide into the 
 warmer and more genial climate of intimacy. Each day you travel 
 southward shortens the miles and the hours of your existence : so 
 tranquil is the passage, and so easy the transition, you suffer no 
 shock by the change of temperature about you. Happy were it for 
 us that in our courtship, as in our voyage, there were some certain 
 Rubicon to remind us of the miles we have journeyed ! Well were 
 it if there were some meridian in love !" 
 
 " I'm not sure, Fred, that there is not that same shaving process 
 they practice on the line occasionally performed for us by parents 
 and guardians at home ; and I'm not certain that the iron hoop of 
 old Neptune is not a pleasanter acquaintance than the hair-trigger 
 of some indignant and fire-eating brother. But come, Fred, you 
 have not told me the most important point — how fare your fortunes 
 now? or, in other words, what are your present prospects as re- 
 gards the Senhora ?" 
 
 " What a question to ask me ! Why not request me to tell you 
 where Soult will fight us next, and when Marmont will cross the 
 frontier ? My dear boy> I have not seen her for a week, an entire 
 week — seven full days and nights, each with their twenty-four 
 hours of change and vacillation." 
 
 " Well, then, give me the last bulletin from the seat of war ; that, 
 at least, you can do. Tell me how you parted." 
 
 " Strangely enough. You must know we had a grand dinner at 
 the villa the day before I left ; arid % when we adjourned for our 
 coffee to the garden, my spirits were at the top of their bent. Inez 
 never looked so beautiful — never was half so gracious ; and as she 
 leaned upon my arm, instead of following the others towards the 
 little summer-house, I turned, as if inadvertently, into a narrow 
 dark alley that skirts the lake." 
 
570 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " I know it well ; continue." 
 
 Power reddened slightly, and went on : 
 
 " ' Why are we taking this path?' said Donna Inez ; ' this is surely 
 not a short way?' 
 
 " ' Oh ! I — wished to make my adieux to my old friends the 
 swans. You know I go to-morrow.' 
 
 " ' Ah ! that's true/ said she. ' I'd quite forgotten it.' 
 
 " This speech was not very encouraging ; but as I felt myself in 
 for the battle, I was not going to retreat at the skirmish. ' Now or 
 never,' thought I. I'll not tell you what I said. I couldn't if I 
 would. It is only with a pretty woman upon one's arm — it is only 
 when stealing a glance at her bright eyes, as you bend beyond the 
 border of her bonnet — that you know what it is to be eloquent. 
 Watching the changeful color of her cheek with a more anxious 
 heart than ever did mariner gaze upon the fitful sky above him, you 
 pour out your whole soul in love. You leave no time for doubt, — 
 no space for reply ; the difficulties that shoot across her mind you 
 reply to ere she is well conscious of them; and when you feel her 
 hand tremble, or see her eyelid fall, like the leader of a storming 
 party when the guns slacken in their fire, you spring boldly forward 
 in the breach, and, blind to every danger around you, rush madly 
 on, and plant your standard upon the walls." 
 
 " I hope you allow the vanquished the honors of war," said I, in- 
 terrupting. 
 
 Without noticing my observation, he continued : 
 
 " I was on my knees before her, her hand passively resting in 
 mine, her eyes bent upon me softly and tearfully " 
 
 "The game was your own, in fact." 
 
 " You shall hear. 
 
 " ' Have we stood long enough thus, Senhor ?' said she, bursting 
 into a fit of laughter. 
 
 " I sprang to my legs in anger and indignation. 
 
 " ' There, don't be passionate ; it is so tiresome. What do you 
 call that tree there ?' 
 
 " ' It is a tulip-tree,' said I, coldly. 
 
 " ' Then, to put your gallantry to the test, do climb up there and 
 pluck me that flower. No, the far one. If you fall into the lake 
 and are drowned, why, it would put an end to this foolish inter- 
 view.' 
 
 "' And if not?' said I. 
 
 ' l Oh, then I shall take twelve hours to consider of it ; and if my 
 decision be in your favor, I'll give you the flower ere you leave to- 
 morrow.' 
 
 "It's somewhat about thirty years since I went bird-nesting — and 
 
THE CONFIDENCE. 571 
 
 hang me if a tight jacket and spurs are the best equipment for 
 climbing a tree! — but up I went, and, amid a running fire of 
 laughter and quizzing, reached the branch, and brought it down 
 safely. 
 
 " Inez took especial care to avoid me the rest of the evening. We 
 did not meet until breakfast the following morning. I perceived 
 then that she wore the flower in her belt ; but, alas ! I knew her too 
 well to augur favorably from that ; besides, instead of any trace of 
 sorrow or depression at my approaching departure, she was in high 
 spirits, and the life of the party. ' How can I manage to speak 
 with her?' said I to myself; 'but one word — I already anticipate 
 what it must be. But let the blow fall — anything is better than 
 this uncertainty.' 
 
 " ' The General and the staff have passed the gate, sir/ said my 
 servant at this moment. 
 
 " ' Are my horses ready ?' 
 
 " ' At the door, sir, and the baggage gone forward.' 
 
 " I gave Inez one look. 
 
 " ' Did you say more coffee ?' said she, smiling. 
 
 " I bowed coldly, and rose from the table. They all assembled 
 upon the terrace to see me ride away. 
 
 " ' You'll let us hear from you ?' said Don Emanuel. 
 
 " ' And pray don't forget the letter to my brother,' cried old 
 Madame Forjas. 
 
 " Twenty similar injunctions burst from the party, but not a word 
 said Inez. 
 
 " ' Adieu, then !' said I. ' Farewell !' 
 
 " ' Adios ! Go with God !' chorused the party. 
 
 " ' Good-bye, Senhora !' said I. ' Have you nothing to tell me ere 
 we part ?' 
 
 " ' Not that I remember,' said she, carelessly. ' I hope you'll have 
 good weather.' 
 
 " ' There is a storm threatening,' said I, gloomily. 
 
 " \ Well, a soldier cares little for a wet jacket.' 
 
 " ' Adieu !' said I, sharply, darting at her a look that spoke my 
 meaning. 
 
 " ' Farewell !' repeated she, curtseying slightly, and giving one of 
 her sweetest smiles. 
 
 " I drove the spurs into my horse's flanks, but holding him firmly 
 on the curb at the same moment, instead of dashing forward, he 
 bounded madly in the air. 
 
 " ' What a pretty creature !' said she, as she turned towards the 
 house ; then, stopping carelessly, she looked round. 
 
 " ' Should you like this bouquet ?' she asked. 
 
572 CHARLES O 'MA LLEY. 
 
 " Before I could reply, she disengaged it from her belt, and threw 
 it towards me. The door closed behind her as she spoke. I galloped 
 on to overtake the staff— et voild tout. Now, Charley, read my fate 
 for me, and tell me what this portends." 
 
 " I confess I only see one thing certain in the whole." 
 
 " And that is ?" said Power. 
 
 " That Master Fred Power is more irretrievably in love than any 
 gentleman on full pay I ever met with." 
 
 " By Jove I I half fear as much ! Is that orderly waiting for you, 
 Charley ? Whom do you want, my man ?" 
 
 " Captain O'Malley, sir. General Craufurd desires to see you at 
 head-quarters immediately." 
 
 " Come, Charley, I'm going towards Fuentes. Take your cap ; 
 we'll walk down together." 
 
 So saying, we cantered towards the village, where we separated — 
 Power to join some 14th men stationed there on duty, and I to the 
 General's quarters to receive my orders. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE CANTONMENT. 
 
 SOON after this the army broke up from Caja, and went into 
 cantonments along the Tagus, the head-quarters being at Por- 
 talegre. We were here joined by four regiments of infantry 
 lately arrived from England, and the 12th Light Dragoons. I shall 
 not readily forget the first impression created among our reinforce- 
 ments by the habits of our life at this period. 
 
 Brimful of expectation, they had landed at Lisbon, their minds 
 filled with all the glorious expectancy of a brilliant campaign. 
 Sieges, storming, and battle-fields floated before their excited imagi- 
 nation. Scarcely, however, had they reached the camp, when these 
 illusions were dissipated. Breakfasts, dinners, private theatricals, 
 pigeon matches, formed our daily occupation. Lord Wellington's 
 hounds threw off regularly twice a week, and here might be seen every 
 imaginable species of equipment, from that of the artillery officer, 
 mounted on his heavy troop horse, to the infantry subaltern on a 
 Spanish jennet. Never was anything more ludicrous than our turn- 
 out. Every quadruped in the army was put into requisition ; and 
 even those who rolled not from their saddles from sheer necessity, 
 were most likely to do so from laughing at their neighbors. The 
 
THE CANTONMENT. 573 
 
 pace may not have equalled Melton, nor the fences have been as 
 stubborn as in Leicestershire, but I'll be sworn there was more 
 laughter, more fun, and more merriment, in one day with us than 
 in a whole season with the best-organized pack in England. With 
 a lively trust that the country was open and the le^aps easy, every 
 man took the field ; indeed, the only anxiety evinced at all was to 
 appear at the meeting in something like jockey fashion, and I must 
 confess that this feeling was particularly conspicuous among the 
 infantry. Happy the man whose kit boasted a pair of cords, or 
 buckskins ; thrice happy he who sported a pair of tops. I myself 
 was in that enviable position, and well remember with what pride 
 of heart I cantered up to cover in all the superior tclat of my cos- 
 tume, though, if truth were to be spoken, I doubt if I should have 
 passed muster among my friends of the " Blazers." A round cav- 
 alry jacket, and a foraging cap with a hanging tassel, were the 
 strange accompaniments of my more befitting nether garments. 
 Whatever our costumes, the scene was a most animated one. Here, 
 the shell-jacket of a heavy dragoon was seen storming the fence of 
 a vineyard ; there, the dark green of a rifleman was going the pace 
 over the plain. The unsportsman-like figure of a staff officer might 
 be observed emerging from a drain, ^while some neck-or-nothing 
 Irishman, with light infantry wings, was flying at every fence 
 before him, and overturning all in his way. The rules and regula- 
 tions of the service prevailed not here ; the starred and gartered 
 general, the plumed and aiguilletted colonel, obtained but little 
 deference, and less mercy, from his more humble subaltern. In fact, 
 I am half disposed to think that many an old grudge of rigid dis- 
 cipline, or severe duty, met with its retribution here. More than 
 once have I heard the muttered sentences around me which boded 
 like this : 
 
 " Go the pace, Harry ! never flinch it ! There's old Colquhoun — 
 take him in the haunches — roll him over !" 
 
 " See here, boys— watch how I'll scatter the staff— beg your par- 
 don, General, hope I haven't hurt you. Turn about is fair play— I 
 have taught you to take up a position now." 
 
 I need scarcely say there was one whose person was sacred from 
 all such attacks; he was well mounted upon a strong half-bred 
 horse; rode always foremost, following the hounds with the same 
 steady pertinacity with which he would have followed the enemy ; 
 his compressed lip rarely opening for a laugh, when even the most 
 ludicrous misadventure was enacting before him; and when, by 
 chance, he would give way, the short ha ! ha ! was over in a mo- 
 ment, and the cold stern features were as fixed and impassive a« 
 before. 
 
574 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 All the excitement, all the enthusiasm of a hunting-field, seemed 
 powerless to turn his mind from the pre-occupation which the 
 mighty interests he presided over exacted. I remember an incident 
 which, however trivial in itself, is worth recording, as illustrative 
 of what I mean. We were going along at a topping pace ; the 
 hounds, a few fields in advance, were hidden from our view by a 
 small beech copse ; the party consisted of not more than six per- 
 sons, one of whom was Lord Wellington himself. Our run had 
 been a splendid one, and as we were pursuing the fox to earth, every 
 man of us pushed his horse to his full stride in the hot enthusiasm 
 of such a moment. 
 
 "This way, my lord — this way," said Colonel Conyers, an old 
 Melton man,' who led the way. " The hounds are in the valley — 
 keep to the left." As no reply was made, after a few moments' 
 pause, Conyers repeated his admonition. "You are wrong, my 
 lord ; the hounds are hunting yonder." 
 
 " I know it !" was the brief answer, given with a shortness that 
 almost savored of asperity ; for a second or two not a word was 
 spoken. 
 
 " How far is Niza, Gordon ?" inquired Lord Wellington. 
 
 "About five leagues, my ^ord," replied the astonished aide-de- 
 camp. 
 
 "That's the direction, is it not?" 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 " Let's go over and inspect the wounded." 
 
 No more was said, and before a second was given for considera- 
 tion, away went his lordship, followed by his aide-de-camp, his pace 
 the same stretching gallop, and apparently feeling as much excite- 
 ment, as he dashed onward towards the hospital, as though following 
 in all the headlong enthusiasm of a fox-chase. 
 
 Thus passed our summer ; a life of happy ease and recreation 
 succeeding to the harassing fatigues and severe privations of the 
 preceding campaign. Such are the lights and shadows of a soldier's 
 life — such the chequered surface of his fortune — constituting by 
 their very change that buoyant temperament, that happy indiffer- 
 ence, which enables him to derive its full enjoyment from each pass- 
 ing incident of his career. 
 
 While thus we indulged in all the fascinations of a life of pleas- 
 ure, the rigid discipline of the army was never for a moment for- 
 gotten. Eeviews, parades, and inspections, were of daily occurrence, 
 and even a superficial observer could not fail to detect that under 
 this apparent devotion to amusement and enjoyment our Comman- 
 der-in-Chief concealed a deep stroke of his policy. 
 
 The spirits of both men and officers, broken in spite of their sue- 
 
THE CANTONMENT. 575 
 
 cesses by the incessant privations they had endured, imperatively 
 demanded this period of rest and repose. The infantry, many of 
 whom had served in the ill-fated campaign of Walcheren, were still 
 suffering from the effects of the intermittent fever. The cavalry, 
 from deficient forage, severe marches, and unremitting service, were 
 in great part unfit for duty. To take the, field under circumstances 
 like these was therefore impossible ; and, with the double object of 
 restoring their wonted spirit to his troops, and checking the ravages 
 which sickness and the casualties of war had made with his ranks, 
 Lord Wellington embraced the opportunity of the enemy's inaction 
 to take up his present position on the Tagus. 
 
 Meanwhile that we enjoyed all the pleasures of a country life, 
 enhanced tenfold by daily association with gay and cheerful com- 
 panions, the master-mind, whose reach extended from the profound- 
 est calculations of strategy to the minutest details of military 
 organization, was never idle. Foreseeing that a period of inaction 
 like the present must only be like the solemn calm that preludes 
 the storm, he prepared for the future by those bold conceptions and 
 unrivalled combinations which we're to guide him through many a 
 field of battle and of danger, to end his career of glory in the liber- 
 ation of the Peninsula. 
 
 The failure of the attack upon Badajos had neither damped his 
 ardor nor changed his views ; and he proceeded to the investment 
 of Ciudad Rodrigo with the same intense determination of uproot- 
 ing the French occupation in Spain, by destroying their strongholds 
 and cutting off their resources. Carrying aggressive war in one 
 hand, he turned the other towards the maintenance of those de- 
 fences which in the event of disaster or defeat must prove the refuge 
 of the army. 
 
 To the lines of Torres Vedras he once more directed his attention. 
 Engineer officers were despatched thither ; the fortresses were put 
 into repair ; the bridges broken or injured during the French inva- 
 sion were restored; the batteries upon the Tagus were rendered 
 more effective, and furnaces for heating shot were added to them. 
 
 The inactivity and apathy of the Portuguese government but ill 
 corresponded with his unwearied exertions; and, despite of con- 
 tinual remonstrances and unceasing representations, the bridges 
 over the Leira and Alva were left unrepaired, and the roads leading 
 to them so broken as to be almost impassable, might seriously have 
 endangered the retreat of the army, should such a movement be 
 deemed necessary. 
 
 It was in the first week of September I was sent with despatches 
 for the engineer officer in command at the lines, and during the 
 fortnight of my absence was enabled for the first time to examine 
 
576 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 those extraordinary defences which, for the space of thirty miles, 
 extended over a country undulating in hill and valley, and present- 
 ing, by a succession of natural and artificial resources, the strongest 
 and most impregnable barrier that has ever been presented against 
 the advance of a conquering army. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 MICKEY FREE'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 WHEN I returned to the camp, I found the greatest excite- 
 ment prevailing on all sides. Each day brought in fresh 
 rumors that Marmont was advancing in force; that sixty 
 thousand Frenchmen were in full march upon Ciudad Rodrigo, to 
 raise the blockade, and renew the invasion of Portugal. Intercepted 
 letters corroborated these reports; and the Guerillas who joined us 
 spoke of large convoys which they had seen upon the roads from 
 Salamanca and Tamanes. 
 
 Except the light division, which, under the command of Craufurd, 
 were posted upon the right of the Aguada, the whole of our army 
 occupied the country from El Bodon to Gallegos ; the fourth division 
 being stationed at Fuente Guenaldo, where some entrenchments had 
 been hastily thrown up. 
 
 To this position Lord Wellington resolved upon retreating, as 
 affording points of greater strength and more capability of defence 
 than the other line of road, which led by Almeida upon the Coa. 
 Of the enemy's intentions we were not long to remain in doubt ; for 
 on the morning of the 24th a strong body was seen descending from 
 the pass above Ciudad Rodrigo, and cautiously reconnoitring the 
 banks of the Aguada. Far in the distance a countless train of 
 wagons, bullock-cars, and loaded mules were seen winding their 
 slow length along, accompanied by several squadrons of dragoons. 
 
 Their progress was slow, but as evening fell they entered the gates 
 of the fortress ; and the cheering of the garrison mixing with the 
 strains of martial music, faint from distance, reached us where we 
 lay upon the far-off heights of El Bodon. So long as the light 
 lasted, we could perceive fresh troops arriving ; and even when the 
 darkness came on, we could detect the position of the reinforcing 
 columns by the bright watch-fires which gleamed along the plain. 
 
 By daybreak we were under arms, anxiously watching for the 
 intentions of our enemy, which soon became no longer dubious. 
 
MWKE Y FREE'S AD VENTURE. 577 
 
 Twenty-five squadrons of cavalry, supported by a whole division of 
 infantry, were seen to defile along the great road from Ciudad 
 Eodrigo to Guenaldo. Another column, equally numerous, marched 
 straight upon Espeja. Nothing could be more beautiful, nothing 
 more martial, than their appearance. Emerging from a close 
 mountain gorge, they wound along the narrow road, and appeared 
 upon the bridge of the Aguada just as the morning sun was burst- 
 ing forth; his bright beams tipped the polished cuirassiers and 
 their glittering equipments, they shone in their panoply like the 
 gay troop of some ancient tournament. The lancers of Berg, dis- 
 tinguished by their scarlet dolmans and gorgeous trappings, were 
 followed by the Cuirassiers of the Guard, who again were succeeded 
 by the chasseurs a cheval, their bright steel helmets and light blue 
 uniforms, their floating plumes and dappled chargers, looking the 
 very beau id6al of light horsemen ; behind, the dark masses of the 
 infantry pressed forward, and deployed into the plain, while, bring- 
 ing up the rear, the rolling din, like distant thunder, announced the 
 " dread artillery." 
 
 On they came, the seemingly interminable line converging on to 
 that one spot upon whose summit now we assembled a force of 
 scarcely ten thousand bayonets. 
 
 While this brilliant panorama was passing before our eyes, we 
 ourselves were not idle. Orders had been sent to Picton to come 
 up from the left with his division. Alten's cavalry and a brigade of 
 artillery were sent to the front, and every preparation which the 
 nature of the ground admitted was made to resist the advance of 
 the enemy. While these movements on either side occupied some 
 hours, the scene was every moment increasing in interest. The 
 large body of cavalry was now seen forming into columns of attack. 
 Nine battalions of infantry moved up to their support, and, forming 
 into columns, echelons, and squares, performed before us all the 
 manoeuvres of a review with the most admirable precision and 
 rapidity ; but from these our attention was soon taken by a brilliant 
 display upon our left. Here, emerging from the wood which flanked 
 the Aguada, were now to be seen the gorgeous staff of Marmont 
 himself. Advancing at a walk; they came forward amid the vivas 
 of the assembled thousands, burning with ardor and thirsting for 
 victory. For a moment, as I looked, I could detect the Marshal 
 himself, as, holding his plumed hat above his head, he returned the 
 salute of a lancer regiment, who proudly waved their banners as he 
 passed ; but, hark ! what are those clanging sounds, which| rising 
 high above the rest, seem like the war-cry of a warrior ? 
 
 " I can't mistake those tones," said a bronzed old veteran beside 
 me ; " those are the brass bands of the Imperial Guard. Can Napo- 
 37 
 
578 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 leon be there? See ! there they come." As he spoke, the head of a 
 column emerged from the wood, and, deploying as they came, poured 
 into the plain. For above an hour that mighty tide flowed on, and 
 before noon, a force of sixty thousand men was collected in the space 
 beneath us. 
 
 I was not long to remain an unoccupied spectator of this brilliant 
 display, for I soon received orders to move down with my squadron 
 to the support of the 11th Light Dragoons, who were posted at the 
 base of the hill. The order at the moment was anything but agree- 
 able, for I was mounted upon a hack pony, on which I had ridden 
 over from Craufurd's division early in the morning, and suspecting 
 that there might be some hot work during the day, had ordered 
 Mike to follow with my horse. There was no time, however, for 
 hesitation, and I moved my men down the slope in the direction of 
 the skirmishers. 
 
 The position we occupied was singularly favorable. Our flanks 
 being defended on either side by brushwood, we could only be 
 assailed in front ; and here, notwithstanding our vast inferiority of 
 force, we steadily awaited the attack. As I rode from out the thick 
 wood, I could not help feeling somewhat surprised at the sounds 
 which greeted me. Instead of the usual low and murmuring 
 tones — the muttered sentences which precede a cavalry advance — a 
 roar of laughter shook the entire divison, while exclamations burst 
 from every side around me : "Look at him now !" "They have him ! 
 — by Heavens, they have him !" " Well done ! — well done !" " How 
 the fellow rides !" " He's hit !— he's hit !" " No, no !" " Is he down !" 
 "He's down!" 
 
 A loud cheer rent the air at this moment, and I reached the front 
 in time to learn the reason, of all this excitement. In the wide plain 
 before me a horseman was seen, having passed the ford of the 
 Aguada, to advance at the top of his speed towards the British lines. 
 As he came nearer, it was perceived that he was accompanied by a 
 led horse, and, apparently with total disregard of the presence of an 
 enemy, rode boldly and carelessly forward. Behind him rode three 
 lancers, their lances couched, their horses at speed. The pace was 
 tremendous, and the excitement was intense ; for sometimes, as the 
 leading horseman of the pursuit neared the fugitive, he would bend 
 suddenly upon the saddle, and, swerving to the right or the left, 
 totally evade him, while again, at others, with a loud cry of bold 
 defiance, rising in his stirrups, he would press on, and, with a shake 
 of his bridle which bespoke the jockey, almost distance the enemy. 
 " That must be your fellow, O'Malley ; that must be your Irish 
 groom," cried a brother officer. There could be no doubt of it. It 
 was Mike himself. 
 
MICKE Y FREE y S AD VEN T URE. 57 9 
 
 " I'll be hanged if he's not playing with them !" said Baker. 
 f< Look at the villain ! He's holding in : that's more than the French- 
 men are doing. Look ! look at the fellow on the gray horse ! he has 
 flung his trumpet to his back, and drawn his sabre." 
 
 A loud cheer burst from the French lines ; the trumpeter was 
 gaining at every stride. Mike had got into deep ground, and the 
 horses would not keep together. " Let the brown horse go ; let him 
 go, man !" shouted the dragoons, while I re-echoed the cry with my 
 utmost might. But not so. Mike held firmly on, and, spurring 
 madly, he lifted his horse at each stride, turning from time to 
 time a glance at his pursuer. A shout of triumph rose from the 
 French side; the trumpeter was beside him; his arm was uplifted; 
 the sabre above his head. A yell broke from the British, and with 
 difficulty could the squadron be restrained. For above a minute the 
 horses went side by side, but the Frenchman delayed his stroke until 
 he could get a little 4n the front. My excitement had rendered me 
 speechless ; if a word could have saved my poor fellow, I could not 
 have spoken. A mist seemed to gather across my eyes, and the 
 whole plain, and its peopled thousands, danced before my eyes. 
 
 " He's down !" " He's down, by Heavens !" " No ! no ! no !" 
 " Look there — nobly done !" " Gallant fellow !" " He has him ! — he 
 
 has him, by !" A cheer that rent the very air above us broke 
 
 from the squadrons, and Mike galloped in amongst us, holding the 
 Frenchman by the throat with one hand ; the bridle of his horse he 
 firmly grasped with his own in the other. 
 " How was it? how did he do it?" cried I. 
 
 " He broke his sword-arm with a blow, and the Frenchman's 
 sabre fell to the earth." 
 
 " Here he is, Mister Charles ; and, musha, but it's trouble he gave 
 me to catch him ! And I hope your honor won't be displeased with 
 me at losing the brown horse. I was obliged to let him go when 
 the thief closed on me ; but, sure, there he is ! May I never ! if he's 
 not galloping into the lines by himself." As he spoke, my brown 
 charger came cantering up to the squadrons, and took his place in 
 the line with the rest. 
 
 I had scarcely time to mount my horse, amid a buzz of congratu- 
 lations, when our squadron was ordered to the front. Mixed up 
 with detachments from the 11th and 16th, we continued to resist 
 the enemy for above two hours. 
 
 Our charges were quick, sharp, and successive, pouring in our 
 
 numbers whenever the enemy appeared for a moment to be broken, 
 
 and then retreating under cover of our infantry when the opposing 
 
 cavalry came down upon us in overwhelming numbers. 
 
 Nothing could be more perfect than the manner in which the 
 
5S0 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 different troops relieved each other during this part of the day. 
 When the French squadrons advanced, ours met them as boldly. 
 When the ground became no longer tenable, we broke and fell 
 back, and the bayonets of the infantry arrested their progress. If 
 the cavalry pressed heavily upon the squares, ours came up to the 
 relief, and as they were beaten back, the artillery opened upon them 
 with an avalanche of grape shot. 
 
 I have seen many battles of greater duration, and more important 
 in result, — many there have been in which more tactic was dis- 
 played, and greater combinations called forth; but never did I 
 witness a more desperate hand-to-hand conflict than on the heights 
 of El Bodon. 
 
 Baffled by our resistance, Montbrun advanced with the Cuirassiers 
 of the Guard. Eiding down our advanced squadrons, they poured 
 upon us like some mighty river, overwhelming all before it, and 
 charged, cheering, up the heights. Our brave troopers were thrown 
 back upon the artillery, and many of them cut down beside the 
 guns. The artillerymen and the drivers shared the same fate, and 
 the cannon were captured. A cheer of exultation burst from the 
 French, and their vivas rent the air. Their exultation was short-lived 
 and that cheer their death-cry ; for the 5th Foot, who had hitherto 
 lain concealed in the grass, sprang madly to their feet, their gallant 
 Major Ridge at their head. With a yell of vengeance they rushed 
 upon the foe ; the glistening bayonets glanced amid the cavalry of 
 the French ; the troops pressed hotly home ; and while the cuiras- 
 siers were driven down the hill, the guns were recaptured, limbered 
 up, and brought away. This brilliant charge was the first recorded 
 instance of cavalry being assailed by infantry in line. 
 
 But the hill could no longer be held. The French were advancing 
 on either flank ; overwhelming numbers pressed upon the front, and 
 retreat was unavoidable. The cavalry were ordered to the rear, and 
 Picton's division, throwing themselves into squares, covered the re- 
 treating movement. 
 
 The French dragoons bore down upon every face of those devoted 
 battalions ; the shouts of triumph cheered them as the earth trembled 
 beneath their charge ; but the British infantry, reserving their fire 
 until the sabres clanked with the bayonet, poured in a shattering 
 volley, and the cry of the wounded and the groans of the dying rose 
 from the smoke around them. 
 
 Again and again the French came on ; and the same fate ever 
 awaited them. The only movement in the British squares was 
 closing up the spaces as their comrades fell or sank wounded to the 
 earth. 
 
 At last reinforcements came up from the left : the whole retreated 
 
THE SAN PETRO. 581 
 
 across the plain, until, as they approached Guenaldo, our cavalry, 
 having re-formed, came to their aid with one crushing charge, which 
 closed the day. 
 
 That same night Lord Wellington fell back, and, concentrating 
 his troops within a narrow loop of land bounded on either flank by 
 the Coa, awaited the arrival of the light division, which joined us 
 at three in the morning. 
 
 The following day Marmont again made a demonstration of his 
 force, but no attack followed. The position was too formidable to 
 be easily assailed, and the experience of the preceding day had 
 taught him that, however inferior in number, the troops he was 
 opposed to were as valiant as they were ably commanded. 
 
 Soon after this, Marmont retired on the valley of the Tagus. 
 Dorsenne also fell back, and, for the present, at least, no further 
 effort was made to prosecute the invasion of Portugal. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXXIV. 
 
 THE SAN PETKO. 
 
 NOT badly wounded, O'Malley, I hope?" said General Crau- 
 furd, as I waited upon him soon after the action. 
 I could not help starting at the question, while he repeated 
 it, pointing at the same time to my left shoulder, from which a 
 stream of blood was now flowing down my coat sleeve. 
 
 " I never noticed it, sir, till this moment ; it can't be of much con- 
 sequence, for I have been on horseback the entire day, and never 
 felt it." 
 
 "Look to it at once boy; a man wants all his blood for this 
 campaign. Go to your quarters; I shall not need you for the 
 present, so pray see the Doctor at once." 
 
 As I left the General's quarters, I began to feel sensible of pain, 
 and before a quarter of an hour had elapsed, had quite convinced 
 myself that my wound was a severe one. The hand and arm were 
 swollen, heavy and distended with hemorrhage beneath the skin ; 
 my thirst became great, and a cold shuddering sensation passed over 
 me from time to time. 
 
 I sat down for a moment upon the grass, and was just reflecting 
 within myself what course I should pursue, when I heard the tramp 
 of feet approaching. I looked up, and perceived some soldiers in 
 
582 CHARLES } M ALLEY. 
 
 fatigue dresses, followed by a few others, who, from their noiseless 
 gestures and sad countenances, I guessed were carrying some 
 wounded comrade to the rear. 
 
 " Who is it, boys ?" cried I. 
 
 " It's the Major, sir ; the Lord be good to him !" said a hardy-look- 
 ing 88th man, wiping his eye with the cuff of his coat as he spoke. 
 
 "Not your Major? — not Major O'Shaughnessy ?" said I, jumping 
 up and rushing forward towards the litter. Alas ! too true — it was 
 the gallant fellow himself; there he lay, pale and cold, his bloodless 
 cheek and parted lips looking like death itself. . A thin blue rivulet 
 trickled from his forehead, but his most serious wound appeared to 
 be in his side ; his coat was open, and showed a mass of congealed 
 and clotted blood, from the midst of which with every motion of the 
 way, a fresh stream kept welling upward. Whether from the shock 
 or my loss of blood, or from both together, I know not, but I sank 
 fainting to the ground. 
 
 It would have needed a clearer brain and a cooler judgment than 
 I possessed to have conjectured where I was and what had occurred 
 to me when I next recovered' my senses. Weak, fevered, and with 
 a burning thirst, I lay, unable to move, and could merely perceive 
 the objects which lay within the reach of my vision. The place 
 was cold, calm, and still as the grave. A lamp, which hung high 
 above my head, threw a faint light around, and showed me within a 
 niche of the opposite wall the figure of a gorgeously-dressed female. 
 She appeared to be standing motionless, but as the pale light flick- 
 ered upon her features, I thought I could detect the semblance of 
 a smile. The splendor of her costume, and the glittering gems 
 which shone upon her spotless robe, gleamed through the darkness 
 with an almost supernatural brilliancy, and so beautiful did she 
 look, so calm her pale features, that as I opened and shut my eyes 
 and rubbed my lids, I scarcely dared to trust my erring senses, and 
 believe it could be real. What could it mean ? Whence this silence 
 — this cold sense of awe and reverence? Was it a dream ? was it the 
 fitful vision of a disordered intellect? Could it be death? My 
 eyes were riveted upon that beautiful figure. I essayed to speak, 
 but could not. I would have beckoned her towards me, but my 
 hands refused their office. I felt I knew not what charm she pos- 
 sessed to calm my throbbing brain and burning heart! but as I 
 turned from the gloom and darkness around to gaze upon her fair 
 brow and unmoved features, I felt like the prisoner who turns from 
 the cheerless desolation of his cell, and looks upon the fair world 
 and the smiling valleys lying sunlit and shadowed before him. 
 
 Sleep at length came over me. When I awoke, the day seemed 
 
THE SAN PETRO. 583 
 
 breaking, for a faint gray tint stole through a stained-glass win- 
 dow, and fell in many-colored patches upon the pavement. A 
 low muttering sound attracted me. I listened — it was Mike's voice. 
 With difficulty raising myself upon one arm, I endeavored to see more 
 around me. Scarcely had I assumed this position, when my eyes 
 once more fell upon the white-clad figure of the preceding night. 
 At her feet knelt Mike, his hands clasped, and his head bowed upon 
 his bosom. Shall I confess my surprise — my disappointment ! It 
 was no other than an image of the blessed Virgin, decked out in all 
 the gorgeous splendor which Catholic piety bestows upon her saints. 
 The features, which the imperfect light and my more imperfect 
 faculties had endowed with an expression of calm angelic beauty, 
 were, to my waking senses, but the cold and barren mockery of love- 
 liness. The eyes, which my excited brain gifted with looks of tender- 
 ness and pity, stared with no speculation in them ; yet, contrasting 
 my feelings of the night before, full as they were of their deceptions, 
 with my now waking thoughts, I longed once more for that delusion 
 which threw a dreamy pleasure over me, and subdued the stormy 
 passions of my soul into rest and repose. 
 
 " Who knows," thought I, " but he who kneels yonder feels now 
 as I did then ? Who can tell how little the cold, unmeaning reality 
 before him resembles the spiritualized creation the fervor of his 
 love and the ardor of his devotion may have placed upon that altar? 
 Who can limit or bound the depth of that adoration for an object 
 whose attributes appeal not only to every sentiment of the heart, 
 but also to every sense of the brain ? I fancy that I can picture to 
 myself how these tinselled relics, these tasteless wax-works, changed 
 by the magic of devotion and of dread, became to the humble wor- 
 shipper images of loveliness and beauty. The dim religious light ; 
 the reverberating footsteps echoed along those solemn aisles; the 
 vaulted arches, into whose misty heights the sacred incense floats 
 upward, while the deep organ is pealing its notes of praise or 
 prayer, — these are no slight accessories to all the pomp and 
 grandeur of a church whose forms and ceremonial, unchanged for 
 ages, and hallowed by a thousand associations, appeal to the mind 
 of the humblest peasant or the proudest noble, by all the weak- 
 nesses as by all the more favored features of our nature." 
 
 How long I might have continued to meditate in this strain I 
 know not, but a muttered observation from Mike turned the whole 
 current of my thoughts. His devotions over, he had seated himself 
 upon the steps of the altar, and appeared to be resolving some 
 doubts within himself concerning his late pious duties. 
 
 " Masses is dearer here than in Galway. Father Bush would be 
 well pleased at two-and-sixpence for what I paid three doubloons 
 
584 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 for this morning. And sure it's droll enough. How expensive an 
 amusement it is to kill the French. Here's half a dollar I gave for 
 the soul of a cuirassier that I kilt yesterday, and nearly twice as 
 much for an artilleryman I cut down at the guns ; and because the 
 villain swore like a haythen, Father Pedro told me he'd cost more 
 nor if he had died like a dacent man." 
 
 At these words he turned suddenly round towards the Virgin, and 
 crossing himself devoutly, added, 
 
 " And sure it's yourself knows if it's fair to make me pay for 
 devils that don't know their duties ; and, after all, if you don't 
 understand English nor Irish, I've been wasting my time here this 
 two hours." 
 
 "I say, Mike, how's the Major? How's Major O'Shaughnessy ?" 
 
 " Charmingly, sir. It was only the loss of blood that ailed him. 
 A thief with a pike — one of the chaps they call Poles, bekase of the 
 long sticks they carry with them — stuck the Major in the ribs ; but 
 Doctor Quill — God reward him ! — he's a great doctor, and a funny 
 divil too ; he cured him in no time." 
 
 " And where is he now, Mike ?" 
 
 "Just convanient, in a small chapel off the sacristy; and throuble 
 enough we have "to keep him quiet. He gave up the wnfusion of 
 roses, and took to punch; and faith, it isn't hymns nor paslams 
 [psalms] he's singing all night. And they had me there, mixing 
 materials and singing songs, till I heard the bell for matins ; and 
 what between the punch and the prayers, I never closed my eyes." 
 
 "What do they call this convent?" « 
 
 " It is a hard word, I misremember. It's something like saltpetre. 
 But how's your honor? it's time to ask." 
 
 " Much better, Mike — much better. But, as I see that either your 
 drink or your devotion seems to have affected your nerves, you'd 
 better lie down for an hour or two. I shall not want you." 
 
 " That's just what I can't ; for you see I'm making a song for this 
 evening. The Rangers has a little supper, and I'm to be there; 
 and though I've made one, I'm not sure it'll do. Maybe your 
 honor would give me your opinion about it ?" 
 
 "With all my heart, Mike: let's hear it." 
 
 " Arrah ! is it here, before the Virgin and the two blessed saints 
 that's up there in the glass cases ? But, sure, when they make an 
 hospital of the place, and after the Major's songs last night " 
 
 " Exactly so, Mike : out with it." 
 
 "Well, ma'am," said he, turning towards the Virgin, "as I sus- 
 pect you don't know English, maybe you'll think it's my offices I'm 
 singing. So, saving your favor, here it is. It is to the air of 
 'Arrah, Catty, now can't you be aisy?' 
 
THE SAN PETRO. 585 
 
 MR. FREE'S SONG. 
 
 " Oh what stories I'll tell when my sodgering's o'er, 
 
 And the gallant Fourteenth is disbanded, 
 Not a drill nor parade will I hear of no more, 
 
 When safely in Ireland landed. 
 With the blood that I spilt— the Frenchmen I kilt, 
 
 I'll drive the young girls half crazy ; 
 And some 'cute one will cry, with a wink of her eye, 
 
 'Mister Free, now, — why can't you be aisy?' 
 
 " I'll tell how we routed the squadrons in fight, 
 
 And destroyed them all at ' Talavera,' 
 And then I'll just add how we finished the night, 
 
 In learning to dance the ' bolera ;' 
 How by the moonshine we drank rale wine, 
 
 And rose next day fresh as a daisy ; 
 Then some one will cry, with a look mighty sly, 
 
 'Arrah, Mickey, — now can't you be aisy ?' 
 
 " I'll tell how the nights with Sir Arthur we spent, 
 
 Around a big fire in the air too, 
 Or maybe enjoying ourselves in a tent, 
 
 Exactly like Donnybrook fair too. 
 How he'd call out to me — ' Pass the wine, Mr. Free, 
 
 For you're a man never is lazy !' 
 Then some one will cry, with a wink of her eye, 
 
 'Arrah, Mickey, dear, — can't you be aisy ?' 
 
 " I'll tell, too, the long years in fighting we passed, 
 
 Till Mounseer asked Bony to lead him ; 
 And Sir Arthur, grown tired of glory at last, 
 
 Begged of one Mickey Free to succeed him. 
 'But, acushla,' says I, 'the truth is I'm shy ! 
 
 There's a lady in Ballymacrazy ! 
 And I swore on the book ' He gave me a look, 
 
 And cried, ' Mickey, — now can't you be aisy ?' " 
 
 "Arrah! Mickey, now can't you be aisy?" sang out a voice in 
 chorus, and the next moment Dr. Quill himself made his appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " Well, O'Malley, is it a penitential psalm you're singing, or is 
 my friend Mike endeavoring to raise your spirits with a Galway 
 sonata?" 
 
 " A little bit of his own muse, Doctor, nothing more. But, tell 
 me, how goes it with the Major — is the poor fellow out of danger?" 
 
 " Except from the excess of his appetite, I know of no risk he 
 runs. His servant is making gruel for him all day in a thing like 
 the grog-tub of a frigate. But you've heard the news — Sparks has 
 been exchanged; he came here last night; but the moment he 
 caught sight of me, he took his departure. Begad ! I'm sure he'd 
 rather pass a month in Verdun than a week in my company." 
 
 " By the bye, Doctor, you never told me how this same antipathy 
 of Sparks for you had its origin." 
 
586 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " Sure I drove him out of the 10th, before he was three weeks 
 with the regiment." 
 
 " Ay, I remember ; you began the story for me one night on the 
 retreat from the Coa, but something happened to break it off in the 
 middle." 
 
 " Just so ; I was sent for to the rear to take off some gentlemen's 
 legs that weren't in dancing condition; but as there's no fear of 
 interruption now, I'll finish the story. But first let us have a peep 
 at the wounded. What beautiful anatomists they are in the French 
 artillery I Do you feel the thing I have now in my forceps? — there, 
 don't jump — that's a bit of the brachial nerve, most beautifully dis- 
 played ; faith, I think I'll give Mike a demonstration." 
 
 " Oh ! Mister Quill, dear ! Oh ! Doctor darling ! " 
 
 "Arrah! Mickey, now can't you be aisy?" sang out Maurice, with 
 a perfect imitation of Mike's voice and manner. 
 
 "A little lint here — bend your arm — that's it — don't move your 
 fingers. Now, Mickey, make me a cup of coffee with a glass of 
 brandy in it. And now, Charley, for Sparks. I believe I told you 
 what kind of fellows the 10th were — regular out-and-outers ; we 
 hadn't three men in the regiment that were not from the south of 
 Ireland — the bocca Corkana on their lips, fun and devilment in their 
 eyes, and more drollery and humbug in their hearts than in all the 
 messes in the service put together. No man had any chance among 
 them if he wasn't a real droll one ; every man wrote his own songs, 
 and sang them too ; it was no small promotion could tempt a fellow 
 to exchange out of the corps. You may think, then, what a prize 
 your friend Sparks proved to us ; we held a court-martial upon him 
 the week after he joined ; it was proved in evidence that he had 
 never said a good thing in his life, and had about as much notion 
 of a joke as a Cherokee has of the Court of Chancery ; and as to 
 singing, Lord bless you ! he had a tune with wooden turns to it, it 
 was most cruel to hear ; and then the look of him — those eyes, like 
 dropsical oysters, and the hair standing every way, like a field of 
 insane flax, and the mouth, with a curl in it like the slit in the side 
 of a fiddle. A pleasant fellow that for a mess that always boasted 
 the best-looking chaps in the service. 
 
 " ' What's to be done with him ?' said the Major ; ' shall we tell^ 
 him we are ordered to India, and terrify him about his liver?' 
 
 " ' Or drill him into a hectic fever?' 
 
 " ' Or drink him dry V 
 
 "•'Or get him into a fight, and wing him?' 
 
 " ' Oh, no,' said I, f leave him to me ; we'll laugh him out of the 
 corps.' 
 
 " ' Yos, we'll leave him to you, Maurice,' said the rest. 
 
THE SAN PETRO. 587 
 
 "And that day week you might read in the Gazette, 'Pierce Flynn 
 O'Haygerty, to be Ensign, 10th Foot, vice Sparks, exchanged.' " 
 
 "But how was it done, Maurice? You haven't told me that." 
 
 " Nothing easier. I affected great intimacy with Sparks ; bemoaned 
 our hard fate, mutually, in being attached to such a regiment. 'A 
 d — corps this — low, vulgar fellows — practical jokes — not the kind 
 of thing one expects in the army. But as for me, I've joined it 
 partly from necessity. You, however, who might be in a crack 
 regiment, I can't conceive your remaining in it.' 
 
 " ' But why did you join, Doctor?' said he ; 'what necessity could 
 have induced you ?' 
 
 " • Ah ! my friend,' said I, '■ that is the secret — that is the hidden 
 grief that must lie buried in my own bosom.' 
 
 " I saw that his curiosity was excited, and took every means to 
 increase it further. At length, as if yielding to a sudden impulse 
 of friendship, and having sworn him to secrecy, I took him aside, 
 and began thus : 
 
 " ' I may trust you, Sparks, — I feel I may ; and when I tell you 
 that my honor, my reputation, my whole fortune is at stake, you 
 will judge of the importance of the trust.' 
 
 " The goggle eyes rolled fearfully, and his features exhibited the 
 most craving anxiety to hear my story. 
 
 " ' You wish to know why I left the 56th. Now, I'll tell you ; but 
 mind, you're pledged, you're sworn, never to divulge it.' 
 
 " ' Honor bright.' 
 
 " ' There, that's enough ; I'm satisfied. It was a slight infraction 
 of the articles of war ; a little breach of the rules and regulations of 
 the service ; a trifling misconception of the mess-code : they caught 
 me one evening leaving the mess with — what do you think in my 
 pocket ? But you'll never tell ! no, no, I know you'll not — eight 
 forks and a gravy-spoon ; silver forks every one of them. There 
 now/ said I, grasping his hand, 'you have. my secret; my fame and 
 character are in your hands ; for, you see, they made me quit the 
 regiment — a man can't stay in a corps where he is laughed at.' 
 
 " Covering my face with my handkerchief, as if .to conceal my 
 shame, I turned away, and left Sparks to his meditations. That 
 same evening we happened to have some strangers at mess; the 
 bottle was passing freely round, and as usual, the good spirits of the 
 party at the top of their bent, when suddenly, from the lower end of 
 the table, a voice was heard demanding, in tones of the most pomp- 
 ous" importance, permission to address the president upon a topic 
 where the honor of the whole regiment was concerned. 
 
 "'I rise, gentlemen,' said Mr. Sparks, 'with feelings the most 
 painful. Whatever may have been the laxity of habit and freedom 
 
588 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 of conversation habitual in this regiment, I never believed that so 
 flagrant an instance as this morning came to my ears } 
 
 " ' Oh, murder V said I. ' Oh, Sparks, darling ! sure you're not 
 going to tell ?' 
 
 111 Doctor Quill,' replied he, in an austere tone, 'if is impossible 
 for me to conceal it.' 
 
 " ' Oh, Sparks, dear! will you betray me?' 
 
 "I gave him here a look of the most imploring entreaty, to which 
 he replied by one of unflinching sternness. 
 
 " ' I have made up my mind, sir,' continued he ; 'it is possible 
 the officers of this corps may look more leniently than I do upon 
 this transaction ; but know it they shall.' 
 
 " ' Out with it, Sparks — tell it by all means !' cried a number of 
 voices ; for it was clear to every one by this time that he was in- 
 volved in a hoax. 
 
 "Amid, therefore, a confused volley of entreaty on the one side, 
 and my reiterated prayers for his silence on the other, Sparks thus 
 began : 
 
 " 'Are you aware, gentlemen, why Dr. Quill left the 56th V 
 
 " ' No, no, no !' rang from all sides ; ' let's have it.' 
 
 " ' No, sir !' said he, turning towards me, ' concealment is impos- 
 sible ; an officer detected with the mess-plate in his pocket ' 
 
 " They never let him finish, for a roar of laughter shook the table 
 from one end to the other ; while Sparks, horror-struck at the lack 
 of feeling and propriety that could make men treat such a matter 
 with ridicule, glared around him on every side. 
 
 " ' Oh ! Maurice, Maurice,' cried the Major, wiping his eyes, 'this 
 is too bad — this is too bad !' 
 
 " ' Gracious Heaven !' screamed Sparks, f can you laugh at it?' 
 
 " ' Laugh at it ?' re-echoed the Paymaster, ■ God grant I only don't 
 burst a blood-vessel !' And once more the sounds of merriment 
 rang out anew, and lasted for several minutes. 
 
 " ' Oh ! Maurice Quill/ cried an old captain, ' you've been too 
 heavy on the lad. Why, Sparks, man, he's been humbugging you.' 
 
 " Scarcely were the words spoken when he sprang from the room ; 
 the whole truth flashed at once upon his mind ; in an instant he 
 saw that he had exposed himself to the merciless ridicule of a 
 mess-table, and that all peace for him, in that regiment at least, was 
 over. 
 
 "We got a glorious fellow in exchange for him; and Sparks de- 
 scended into a cavalry regiment — I ask your pardon, Charley — 
 where, as you are well aware, sharp wit and quick intellect are by 
 no means indispensable. There, now, don't be angry, or you'll do 
 yourself harm. So good-bye, for an hour or two." 
 
THE COUNT'S LETTER. 589 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXV. 
 
 THE COUNT'S LETTER. 
 
 O'SHATJGHNESSY'S wound, like my own, was happily only 
 formidable from the loss of blood. The sabre or the lance 
 is rarely, indeed, so death-dealing as the musket or the bay- 
 onet ; and the murderous fire from a square of infantry is far more 
 terrific in its consequences than the heaviest charge of a cavalry 
 column. In a few weeks, therefore, we were once more about, and 
 fit for duty ; but, for the present, the campaign was ended. The 
 rainy season, with attendant train of sickness and sorrow, set in ; 
 the troops were cantoned along the line of the frontier, the infantry 
 occupying the villages, and the cavalry being stationed wherever 
 forage could be obtained. 
 
 The 14th were posted at Avintas, but I saw little of them. I was 
 continually employed upon the staff; and as General Craufurd's 
 activity suffered no diminution from the interruption of the cam- 
 paign, I rarely passed a day without eight or nine hours on horse- 
 back. 
 
 The preparations for the siege of Ciudad Kodrigo occupied our 
 undivided attention. To the reduction of this fortress and of Bad- 
 ajos Lord Wellington looked as the most important objects, and 
 prosecuted his plans with unremitting zeal. To my staff appoint- 
 ment I owed the opportunity of witnessing that stupendous feature 
 of war — a siege ; and as many of my friends formed part of the 
 blockading force, I spent more than one night in the trenches. 
 Indeed, except for this, the tiresome monotony of life was most 
 irksome at this period. Day after day the incessant rain poured 
 down ; the supplies were bad, scanty, and irregular ; the hospitals 
 crowded with sick ; field-sports impracticable ; books there were 
 none ; and a dullness and spiritless depression prevailed on every 
 side. Those who were actively engaged around Ciud?id Eodrigo 
 had, of course, the excitement and interest which the enterprise 
 involved ; but even there the works made slow progress ; the breach- 
 ing artillery was defective in every way ; the rain undermined the 
 faces of the bastions; the clayey soil sank beneath the weight of the 
 heavy guns ; and the storms of one night frequently destroyed more 
 than a whole week's labor had effected. 
 
 Thus passed the dreary months along; the cheeriest and gayest 
 amongst us were broken in spirits and subdued in heart by the 
 tedium of our life. The very news which reached us partook of the 
 gloomy features of our prospects ; we heard only of strong reinforce- 
 ments marching to the support of the French in Estramadura ; we 
 
590 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 were told that the Emperor, whose successes in Germany enabled 
 him to turn his active attention to the Spanish campaign, would 
 himself be present in the coming spring, with overwhelming odds, 
 and a firm determination to drive us from the Peninsula. 
 
 In that frame of mind which such gloomy and depressing pros- 
 pects are well calculated to suggest, I was returning one night to 
 my quarters at Mucia, when suddenly I beheld Mike galloping 
 towards me with a large packet in his hand, which he held aloft to 
 catch my attention. "Letters from England, sir," said he, "just 
 arrived with the General's despatches." I broke the envelope at 
 once, which bore the War-office seal, and as I did so, a perfect 
 avalanche of letters fell at my feet. The first which caught my eye 
 was an official intimation from the Horse Guards, that the Prince 
 Eegent had been graciously pleased to confirm my promotion to the 
 troop, my commission to bear date from the appointment, &c, &c. 
 I could not help feeling struck, as my eye ran rapidly across the 
 lines, that although the letter came from Sir George Dashwood's 
 office, it Contained not a word of congratulation nor remembrance 
 on his part, but was couched in the usual cold and formal language 
 of an official document. Impatient, however, to look over my other 
 letters, I thought but little of this ; so, throwing them hurriedly into 
 my sabretasche, I cantered on to my quarters without delay. Once 
 more alone in silence, I sat down to commune with my far-off 
 friends, and yet, with all my anxiety to hear of home, passed several 
 minutes in turning over the letters, guessing from whom they might 
 have come, and picturing to myself their probable contents. "Ah I 
 Frank Webber, I recognize your slap-dash, bold hand without the 
 aid of the initials in the corner ; and this — what can this be? — this 
 queer, misshapen thing, representing nothing but the forty-seventh 
 proposition of Euclid, and the address seemingly put on with a cat's 
 tail dipped in lampblack ? Yes ! true enough, it is from Mr. Free 
 himself, ^.nd what have we here ? This queer, quaint hand is no 
 new acquaintance ; how many a time have I looked upon it as the 
 ne plus ultra of caligraphy ! But here is one I'm not so sure of: who 
 could have written this bolt-upright, old-fashioned superscription, 
 not a letter of which seems on speaking terms with its neighbor? — • 
 the very absolutely turns its back upon the M in O'Malley, and 
 the final Y wags his tail with a kind of independent shake, as if he 
 did not care a curse for his predecessors ! And the seal, too — surely 
 I know that griffin's head, and that stern motto, 'Non rogo sed capio.' 
 To be sure, it is Billy Considine's, the Count himself. The very 
 paper, yellow and time-stained, looks coeval with his youth, and I 
 could even venture to wager that his sturdy pen was nibbed half a 
 century since. I'll not look further among the confused mass of 
 
THE COUNT'S LETTER. 591 
 
 three-cornered billets, and long, treacherous-looking epistles, the 
 very folding of which denote the dun. Here goes for the Count I" 
 So saying to myself, I drew closer to the fire, and began the follow- 
 ing epistle : 
 
 " O'Malley Castle, Nov. a. 
 
 "Dear Charley: — Here we sit in the little parlor, with your 
 last letter, the Times, and a big map before us, drinking your health 
 and wishing you a long career of the same glorious success you have 
 hitherto enjoyed. Old as I am — eighty-two or eighty-three (I for- 
 get which) in June — I envy you with all my heart. Luck has stood 
 to you, my boy ; and if a French sabre or a bayonet finish you now, 
 you've at least had a splendid burst of it. I was right in my own 
 opinion of you, and Godfrey himself owns it now, — a lawyer, 
 indeed ! Bad luck to them ! we've had enough of lawyers. There's 
 old Hennesy — honest Jack, as they used to call him — that your 
 uncle trusted for the last forty years, has raised eighteen thousand 
 pounds on the title deeds, and gone off to America. The old scoun- 
 drel ! But it's no use talking : the blow is a sore one to Godfrey, 
 and the gout more troublesome than ever. Drumgold is making a 
 motion in Chancery about it to break the sale, and the tenants are 
 in open rebellion, and swear they'll murder a receiver, if one is sent 
 down among them. Indeed, they came in such force into Galway 
 during the assizes, and did so much mischief, that the cases for trial 
 were adjourned, and the judges left, with a military escort to protect 
 them. This, of course, is gratifying to our feelings ; for, thank Pro- 
 vidence, there is some good in the world yet. Kilmurry was sold 
 last week for twelve thousand. Andy Blake would foreclose the 
 mortgage, although we offered him every kind of satisfaction. This 
 has done Godfrey a deal of harm ; and some pitiful economy — taking 
 only two bottles of claret after' his dinner — has driven the gout to his 
 head. They've been telling him he'd lengthen his days by this, and 
 I tried it myself, and, faith, it was the longest day I ever spent in 
 my life. I hope and trust you take your liquor like a gentleman — 
 and an Irish gentleman. 
 
 " Kinshela, we hear, has issued an execution against the house and 
 furniture ; but the attempts to sell the demesne nearly killed your 
 uncle. It was advertised in a London paper, and an offer made for 
 it by an old general, whom you may remember when down here. 
 Indeed, if I mistake not, he was rather kind to you in the beginning. 
 It would appear he did not wish to have his name known, but we 
 found him out, and such a letter as we sent him ! It's little liking 
 he'll have to buy a Galway gentleman's estate over his head, that 
 same Sir George Dashwood ! Godfrey offered to meet him anywhere 
 he pleased, and if the doctor thought he could bear the sea- voyage, 
 
592 CHARLES 0> MALLET. 
 
 he'd even go over to Holyhead ; but the sneaking fellow sent an 
 apologetic kind of a letter, with some humbug excuse about very- 
 different motives, &c. But we've done with him, and I think he 
 with us." 
 
 When I had read thus far, I laid down the letter, unable to go on ; 
 the accumulated misfortunes of one I loved best in the world, follow- 
 ing so fast one upon another, the insult, unprovoked, gratuitous in- 
 sult, to him upon whom my hopes of future happiness so much de- 
 pended, completely overwhelmed me. I tried to continue. Alas ! the 
 catalogue of evils went on ; each line bore testimony to some further 
 wreck of fortune — some clearer evidence of a ruined house. 
 
 All that my gloomiest and darkest forebodings had pictured was 
 come to pass ; sickness, poverty, harassing, unfeeling creditors, 
 treachery, and ingratitude, were goading to madness and despair a 
 spirit whose kindliness of nature was unequalled. The shock of 
 blasted fortunes was falling upon the dying heart ; the convictions 
 which a long life had never brought home, that men were false, and 
 their words a lie, were stealing over the man, upon the brink of the 
 grave ; and he who had loved his neighbor like a brother was to be 
 taught, at the eleventh hour, that the beings he trusted were perjured 
 and forsworn. 
 
 A more unsuitable adviser than Considine, in difficulties like 
 these, there could not be ; his very contempt for all the forms of law 
 and justice was sufficient to embroil my poor uncle still further, so 
 that I resolved at once to apply for leave, and if refused, and no 
 other alternative offered, to leave the service. It was not without a 
 sense of sorrow bordering on despair that I came to this determina- 
 tion. My soldier's life had become a passion with me ; I loved it for 
 its bold and chivalrous enthusiasm ; its hour of battle and strife ; its 
 days of endurance and hardship ; its trials, its triumphs, — its very 
 reverses were endeared by those they were shared with, — and the 
 spirit of adventure, and the love of danger — that most exciting of all 
 gambling — had now entwined themselves in my very nature. To 
 surrender all these at once, and to exchange the daily, hourly en- 
 thusiasm of a campaign for the prospects now before me, was almost 
 maddening. But still, a sustaining sense of duty, of what I owed to 
 him who, in his love, had sacrificed all for me, overpowered every 
 other consideration. My mind was made up. 
 
 Father Bush's letter was little more than a recapitulation of the 
 Count's. Debts, distress, sickness, and the heart-burnings of altered 
 fortunes, filled it, and when I closed it, I felt like one over all whose 
 views in life a dark and ill-omened cloud was closing forever. 
 Webber's I could not read : the light and cheerful raillery of a friend 
 would have seemed, at such a time, like the cold, unfeeling sarcasm 
 
THE TRENCHES. 593 
 
 of an enemy. I sat down, at last, to write to the General, enclosing 
 my application for leave, and begging of him to forward it, with a 
 favorable recommendation, to head-quarters. 
 
 This done, I lay down upon my bed, and overcome by fatigue and 
 fretting, fell asleep, to dream of my home and those I had left there, 
 which, strangely, too, were presented to my mind with all the happy 
 features that made them so dear to my infancy. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE TRENCHES. 
 
 I HAVE not had time, O'Malley, to think of your application," 
 said Craufurd, " nor is it likely I can for a day or two. Eead 
 that." So saying, he pushed towards me a note, written in 
 pencil, which ran thus : 
 
 " Ciudad Rodrigo, Dec. 18. 
 
 " Dear C. : — Fletcher tells me that the breaches will be practic- 
 able by to-morrow evening, and I think so myself. Come over, then, 
 at once, for we shall not lose any time. 
 
 " Yours, W." 
 
 "I have some despatches for your regiment, but if you prefer 
 coming along with me " 
 
 " My dear General, dare I ask for such a favor ?" 
 
 " Well, come along ; only remember that, although my division 
 will be engaged, I cannot promise you anything to do ; so now, get 
 your horses ready; let's away." 
 
 It was in the afternoon of the following day that we rode into the 
 large plain before Ciudad Rodrigo, and in which the allied armies 
 were now assembled to the number of twelve thousand men. The 
 loud booming of the siege artillery had been heard by me for some 
 hours before ; but notwithstanding this prelude and my own high- 
 wrought expectations, I was far from anticipating the magnificent 
 spectacle which burst upon my astonished view. The air was calm 
 and still ; a clear blue wintry sky stretched overhead. Below, the 
 dense blue smoke of the deafening guns rolled in mighty volumes 
 along the earth, and entirely concealed the lower part of the for- 
 tress ; above this the tall towers and battlemented parapets rose 
 into the thin transparent sky like fairy palaces. A bright flash of 
 flame would now and then burst forth from the walls, and a clang- 
 
594 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 ing crash of the brass metal be heard ; but the unceasing roll of our 
 artillery nearly drowned all other sounds, save when a loud cheer 
 would burst from the trenches, while the clattering fall of masonry 
 and the crumbling stones as they rolled down, bespoke the reason 
 of the cry. The utmost activity prevailed on all sides ; troops 
 pressed forward to the reliefs in the parallels ; ammunition wagons 
 moved to the front ; general and staff officers rode furiously about 
 the plain, and all betokened that the hour of attack was no longer 
 far distant. 
 
 While all parties were anxiously awaiting the decision of our 
 chief, the general order was made known, which, after briefly de- 
 tailing the necessary arrangements, concluded with the emphatic 
 words, " Ciudad Eodrigo must be stormed to-night." All specula- 
 tion as to the troops to be engaged in this daring enterprise was 
 soon at an end. With his characteristic sense of duty, Lord Wel- 
 lington made no invidious selection, but merely commanded that 
 the attack should be made by whatever divisions might chance to be 
 that day in the trenches. Upon the third and light divisions, there- 
 fore, this glorious task devolved. The former was to attack the 
 main breach ; to Craufurd's division was assigned the (if possible) 
 more difficult enterprise of carrying the lesser one ; while Pack's 
 Portuguese brigade were to menace the convent of La Caridad by 
 a feint attack, to be converted into a real one, if circumstances 
 should permit. 
 
 The decision, however matured and comprehensive in all its de- 
 tails, was finally adopted so suddenly that every staff officer upon 
 the ground was actively engaged during the entire evening in con- 
 veying the orders to the different regiments. As the day drew to a 
 close, the cannonade slackened on either side ; a solitary gun would 
 be heard at intervals, and, in the calm stillness around, its booming 
 thunder re-echoed along the valleys of the Sierra ; but as the moon 
 rose and night set in, these were no longer heard, and a perfect 
 stillness and tranquillity prevailed around. Even in the trenches, 
 crowded with armed and anxious soldiers, not a whisper was heard, 
 and amid that mighty host which filled the plain, the tramp of a 
 patrol could be distinctly noted, and the hoarse voice of a French 
 sentry upon the walls, telling that all was well in Ciudad Eodrigo. 
 
 The massive fortress, looming larger as its dark shadow stood out 
 from the sky, was still as the grave, while in the greater breach 
 a faint light was seen to twinkle for a moment, and then suddenly 
 to disappear, leaving all gloomy and dark as before. 
 
 Having been sent with orders to the third division, of which 
 the 88th formed a part, I took the opportunity of finding out 
 O'Shaughnessy, who was himself to lead an escalade party in 
 
THE TRENCHES. 595 
 
 M'Kinnon's brigade. He sprang towards me as I came forward, 
 and, grasping my hand with a more than usual earnestness, called 
 out, " The very man I wanted ! Charley, my boy, do us a service 
 now !" 
 
 Before I could reply, he continued, in a lower tone, " A young 
 fellow of ours, Harry Beauclerc, has been badly wounded in the 
 trenches, but by some blunder his injury is reported a slight one, 
 and although the poor fellow can scarcely stand, he insists upon 
 going with the stormers." 
 
 " Come here, Major ! come here !" cried a voice at a little dis- 
 tance. 
 
 "Follow me, O'Malley," cried O'Shaughnessy, moving in the 
 direction of the speaker. 
 
 By the light of a lantern we could descry two officers leaning 
 upon the ground ; between them on the grass lay the figure of a 
 third, upon whose features, as the pale light fell, the hand of death 
 seemed rapidly stealing. A slight froth, tinged with blood, rested 
 on his lip, and the florid blood, which stained the buff facing of his 
 uniform, indicated that his wound was through the lungs. 
 
 " He has fainted," said one of the officers, in a low tone. 
 
 "Are you certain it i3 fainting?" said the other, in a still lower. 
 
 " You see how it is, Charley," said O'Shaughnessy ; " this poor boy 
 must be carried to the rear. Will you, then, like a kind fellow, 
 hasten back to Colonel Campbell and mention the fact? It will kill 
 Beauclerc should any doubt rest upon his conduct, if he ever 
 recover this." 
 
 While he spoke, four soldiers of the regiment placed the wounded 
 officer in a blanket. A long sigh escaped him, and he muttered a 
 few broken words. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! it's his mother he's talking of. He only joined a 
 month since, and is a mere boy. Come, O'Malley, lose no time. By 
 Jove ! it is too late ; there goes the first rocket for the columns to 
 form. In ten minutes more the stormers must fall in." 
 
 " What's the matter, Giles ?" said he to one of the officers who 
 had stopped the soldiers as they were moving off with their burden ; 
 "what is it?" 
 
 " I have been cutting the white tape off his arm, for if he sees it 
 on waking, he'll remember all about the storming." 
 
 " Quite right — thoughtfully done !" said the other ; " but who is 
 to lead his fellows ? He was in the forlorn hope." 
 
 "I'll do it," cried I, with eagerness. "Come, O'Shaughnessy, 
 you'll not refuse me." 
 
 " Kefuse you, boy !" said he, grasping my hand within both of his, 
 " never ! But you must change your coat. The gallant 88th will 
 
596 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 never mistake their countryman's voice. But your uniform would 
 be devilish likely to get you a bayonet through it ; so come back 
 with me, and we'll make you a Ranger in no time." 
 
 " I can give your friend a cap." 
 
 " And I," said the other, " a brandy flask, which, after all, is not 
 the worst part of a storming equipage." 
 
 "I hope," said O'Shaughnessy, "they may find Maurice in the 
 rear. Beauclerc's all safe in his hands." 
 
 " That they'll not," said Giles, " you may swear. Quill is at this 
 moment in the trenches, and will not be the last man at the 
 breach." 
 
 "Follow me now, lads," said O'Shaughnessy, in a low voice. 
 " Our fellows are at the angle of this trench. Who the deuce can 
 that be talking so loud ?" 
 
 " It must be Maurice," said Giles. 
 
 The question was soon decided by the Doctor himself, who ap- 
 peared giving directions to his hospital-sergeant. 
 
 "Yes, Peter, take the tools up to a convenient spot near the 
 breach. There's many a snug corner there in the ruins; and 
 although we mayn't have as good an operation-room as in old 
 * Stevens's,' yet we'll beat them hollow in cases." 
 
 " Listen to the fellow," said Giles, with a shudder. " The thought 
 of his confounded thumbscrews and tourniquets is worse to me than 
 a French howitzer." 
 
 " The devil a kinder-hearted fellow than Maurice," said O'Shaugh- 
 nessy, " for all that ; and if his heart was to be known this moment, 
 he'd rather handle a sword than a saw." 
 
 " True for you, Dennis," said Quill, overhearing him ; " but we 
 are both useful in our way, as the hangman said to Lord Clare." 
 
 "But should you not be in the rear, Maurice?" said I. 
 
 " You are right, O'Malley," said he, in a whisper ; " but, you see, 
 I owe the Cork Insurance Company a spite for making me pay a 
 gout premium, and that's the reason I'm here. I warned them at 
 the time that their stinginess would come to no good." 
 
 " I say, Captain O'Malley," said Giles, " I find I can't be as good 
 as my word with you ; my servant has moved to the rear with all 
 my traps." 
 
 "What is to be done?" said I. 
 
 '"Is it shaving utensils you want?" said Maurice. "Would a 
 scalpel serve your turn ?" 
 
 " No, Doctor ; I'm going to take a turn of duty with your fellows 
 to-night." 
 
 " In the breach — with the stormers ?" 
 
 " With the forlorn hope," said O'Shaughnessy. " Beauclerc is so 
 
THE TRENCHES. 597 
 
 badly wounded, that we've sent him back ; and Charley, like a good 
 fellow, has taken his place." 
 
 " Martin told me," said Maurice, " that Beauclerc was only stunned j 
 but, upon my conscience, the hospital mates nowadays are no 
 better than the watchmakers ; they can't tell what's wrong with 
 the instrument till they pick it to pieces. Whiz ! there goes a blue 
 light." 
 
 " Move on, move on," whispered O'Shaughnessy ; " they're telling 
 off the stormers. That rocket is the order to fall in." 
 
 " But what am I to do for a coat ?" 
 
 " Take mine, my boy," said Maurice, throwing off an upper gar- 
 ment of coarse gray frieze as he spoke. 
 
 " There's a neat bit of uniform," continued he, turning himself 
 round for our admiration ; " don't I look mighty like the pictures 
 of George the First at the battle of Dettingen ?" 
 
 A burst of approving laughter was our only answer to this speech, 
 while Maurice proceeded to denude himself of his most extraordi- 
 nary garment. 
 
 " What, in the name of Heaven, is it?" said I. 
 
 " Don't despise it, Charley ; it knows the smell of gunpowder as 
 well as any bit of scarlet in the service;" while he added, in a whis- 
 per, " it's the ould Koscommon Yeomanry. My uncle commanded 
 them in the year '42, and this was his coat. I don't mean to say 
 that it was new then; for you see it's a. kind of heirloom in the 
 Quill family ; and it's not every one I'd be giving it to." 
 
 " A thousand thanks, Maurice," said I, as I buttoned it on, amid 
 an ill-suppressed titter of laughter. 
 
 " It fits you like a sentry-box," said Maurice, as he surveyed me 
 with a lantern. " The skirts separate behind in the most picturesque 
 manner ; and when you button the collar, it will keep your head up 
 so high, that the devil a bit you'll see except the blessed moon. 
 It's a thousand pities you haven't the three-cocked hat, with the 
 feather trimming. If you wouldn't frighten the French, my name's 
 not Maurice. Turn about here till I admire you. If you only saw 
 yourself in a glass, you'd never join the dragoons again. And look 
 now, don't be exposing yourself, for I wouldn't have those blue 
 facings destroyed for a week's pay." 
 
 "Ah then, it's yourself is the darling, Doctor dear !" said a voice 
 behind me. I turned round : it was Mickey Free, who was standing 
 with a most profound admiration of Maurice beaming in every 
 feature of his face. " It's yourself has a joke for every hour o' the 
 day." 
 
 " Get to the rear, Mike — get to the rear with the cattle ; this is no 
 place for you or them." 
 
698 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Good-night, Mickey," said Maurice. 
 
 "Good-night, your honor," muttered Mike to himself; "may I 
 never die till you set a leg for me." 
 
 " Are you dressed for the ball ?" said Maurice, fastening the white 
 tape upon my arm. " There now, my boy, move on, for I think I 
 hear Picton's voice ; not that it signifies now, for he's always in a 
 heavenly temper when any one's going to be killed. I'm sure he'd 
 behave like an angel if he only knew the ground was mined under 
 his feet." 
 
 " Charley — Charley !" called out O'Shaughnessy, in a suppressed 
 voice, " come up quickly." 
 
 "No. 24, John Forbes — here ! Edward Gillespie — here !" 
 
 " Who leads this party, Major O'Shaughnessy ?" 
 
 " Mr. Beauclerc, sir," replied O'Shaughnessy, pushing me forward 
 by the arm while he spoke. 
 
 " Keep your people together, sir ; spare the powder, and trust to 
 your cold iron." He grasped my hand within his iron grip, and 
 rode on. 
 
 " Who was it, Dennis ?" said I. 
 
 " Don't you know him, Charley ? That was Picton." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 THE STORMING OF CIUDAD RODMGO. 
 
 WHATEVER the levity of the previous moment, the scene 
 before us now repressed it effectually. The deep-toned bell 
 of the cathedral tolled seven, and scarcely were its notes 
 dying away in the distance, when the march of the columns was 
 heard stealing along the ground. A low murmuring whisper ran 
 along the advanced files of the forlorn hope ; stocks were loosened, 
 packs and knapsacks thrown to the ground ; each man pressed his 
 cap more firmly down upon his brow, and, with lip compressed and 
 steadfast eye, waited for the word to move. 
 
 It came at last. The word " March !" passed in whispers from 
 rank to rank, and the dark mass moved on. What a moment was 
 that as we advanced to the foot of the breach ! The consciousness 
 that, at the same instant, from different points of that vast plain 
 similar parties were moving on ; the feeling that at a word the flame 
 of the artillery and the flash of steel would spring from that dense 
 
THE STORMING OF CIUDAD RODRIGO. 599 
 
 cloud, and death and carnage, in every shape our imagination can 
 conceive, be dealt on all sides ; the hurried, fitful thought of home ; 
 the years long past, compressed into one minute's space ; the last 
 adieu of all we've loved, mingling with the muttered prayer to 
 Heaven, with, high above all, the deep pervading sense that earth 
 has no temptation strong enough to turn us from that path whose 
 ending must be a sepulchre I 
 
 Each heart was too full for words. We followed noiselessly along 
 the turf, the dark figure of our leader guiding us through the gloom. 
 On arriving at the ditch, the party with the ladders moved to the 
 front. Already some hay-packs were thrown in, and the forlorn 
 hope sprang forward. 
 
 All was still and silent as the grave. " Quietly, my men — quietly !" 
 said M'Kinnon ; " don't press." Scarcely had he spoken when a mus- 
 ket, whose charge, contrary to orders, had not been drawn, went off. 
 The whizzing bullet could not have struck the wall, when suddenly 
 a bright flame burst forth from the ramparts, and shot upward 
 towards the sky. For an instant the whole scene before us was as 
 bright as noonday. On one side the dark ranks and glistening 
 bayonets of the enemy ; on the other, the red uniform of the British 
 columns. Compressed like some solid wall, they stretched along the 
 plain. 
 
 A deafening roll of musketry from the extreme right announced 
 that the third division was already in action, while the loud cry of 
 our leader, as he sprang into the trench, summoned us to the charge. 
 The leading sections, not waiting for the ladders, jumped down, 
 others pressing rapidly behind them, when a loud rumbling thunder 
 crept along the earth, a hissing, crackling noise followed, and from 
 the dark ditch a forked and livid lightning burst like the flame from 
 a volcano, and a mine exploded. Hundreds of shells and grenades 
 scattered along the ground were ignited at the same moment ; the 
 air sparkled with the whizzing fuses, the musketry plied incessantly 
 from the walls, and every man of the leading company of the 
 stormers was blown to pieces. While this dreadful catastrophe was 
 enacting before our eyes, the different assaults were made on all 
 sides ; the whole fortress seemed girt around with fire. From every 
 part arose the yells of triumph and the shouts of the assailants. As 
 for us, we stood upon the verge of the ditch, breathless, hesitating, 
 and horror-struck. A sudden darkness succeeded to the bright 
 glare, but from the midst of the gloom the agonizing cries of the 
 wounded and the dying rent our very hearts. 
 
 " Make way there ! make way ! here comes Mackie's party," cried 
 an officer in the front, and as he spoke the forlorn hope of the 88th 
 came forward at a run. Jumping recklessly into the ditch, they 
 
600 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 made towards the breach ; the supporting division of stormers gave 
 one inspiring cheer, and sprang after them. The rush was tremen- 
 dous ; for scarcely had we reached the crumbling ruins of the ram- 
 part, when the vast column, pressing on like some mighty torrent, 
 bore down upon our rear. Now commenced a scene to which 
 nothing I ever before conceived of war could in any degree compare. 
 The whole ground, .covered with combustibles of every deadly and 
 destructive contrivance, was rent open with a crash; the huge 
 masses of masonry bounded into the air like things of no weight ; 
 the ringing clangor of the iron howitzers, the crackling of the fuses, 
 the blazing splinters, the shouts of defiance, the more than savage 
 yells of those in whose ranks alone the dead and the dying were 
 numbered, made up a mass of sights and sounds almost maddening 
 with their excitement. On we struggled, the mutilated bodies of 
 the leading fil^ almost filling the way. 
 
 By this time the third division had joined us, and the crush of 
 our thickening ranks was dreadful. Every moment some well- 
 known leader fell dead or mortally wounded, and his place was 
 supplied by some gallant fellow, who, springing from the leading 
 files, would scarcely have uttered his cheer of encouragement ere 
 he himself was laid low. Many a voice with whose notes I was 
 familiar would break upon my ear in tones of heroic daring, and 
 the next moment burst forth in a death-cry. For above an hour 
 the frightful carnage continued, fresh troops continually advancing, 
 but scarcely a foot of ground was made ; the earth belched forth its 
 volcanic fires, and that terrible barrier did no man pass. In turn 
 the bravest and the boldest would leap into the whizzing flame, 
 and the taunting cheers of the enemy triumphed in derision at the 
 effort. 
 
 " Stormers, to the front ! Only the bayonet ! trust to nothing but 
 the bayonet !" cried a voice whose almost cheerful accents contrasted 
 strangely with the death-notes around, and Gurwood, who led the 
 forlorn hope of the 52d, bounded into the chasm. All the officers 
 sprang simultaneously after him ; the men pressed madly on ; a roll 
 of withering musketry crashed upon them ; a furious shout replied 
 to it. The British, springing over the dead and dying, bounded like 
 blood-hounds on their prey. Meanwhile, the ramparts trembled 
 beneath the tramp of the light division, who, having forced the 
 lesser breach, came down upon the flank of the French. The garri- 
 son, however, thickened their numbers, and bravely held their 
 ground. Man to man now was the combat. No cry for quarter. 
 No supplicating look for mercy ; it was the death-struggle of ven- 
 geance and despair. At this instant, an explosion louder than the 
 loudest thunder shook the air ; the rent and torn-up ramparts sprang 
 
THE RAMPART. 601 
 
 into the sky ; the conquering and the conquered were alike the vic- 
 tims : for one of the greatest magazines had been ignited by a shell. 
 The black smoke, streaked with a lurid flame, hung above the dead 
 and the dying. The artillery and the murderous musketry were 
 stilled, paralyzed, as it were, by the ruin and devastation before 
 them. Both sides stood leaning upon their arms ; the pause was 
 but momentary ; the cries of wounded comrades called upon their 
 hearts. A fierce burst of vengeance rent the air. The British closed 
 upon the foe. For an instant they were met ; the next, the bayo- 
 nets gleamed upon the ramparts, and Ciudad Rodrigo was won. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE RAMPART. 
 
 WHILE such were the scenes passing around me, of my own 
 part in them I absolutely knew nothing ; for until the mo- 
 ment that the glancing bayonets of the light division came 
 rushing on the foe, and the loud, long cheer of victory burst above 
 us, I felt ljke one in a trance. Then I leaned against an angle of 
 the rampart, overpowered and exhausted ; a bayonet wound, which 
 some soldier of our own ranks had given me when mounting the 
 breach, pained me somewhat; my uniform was actually torn to 
 rags ; my head bare. Of my sword, the hilt and four inches of the 
 blade alone remained, while my left hand firmly grasped the ram- 
 mer of a cannon, but why or wherefore I could not even guess. As 
 thus I stood, the unceasing tide of soldiery pressed on ; fresh divi- 
 sions came pouring in, eager for plunder, and thirsting for the spoil. 
 The dead and the dying were alike trampled beneath the feet of 
 that remorseless mass, who, actuated by vengeance and by rapine^ 
 sprang fiercely up the breach. 
 
 Weak and exhausted, faint from my wound, and overcome by my 
 exertions, I sank among the crumbling ruins. The loud shouts 
 which rose from the town, mingled with cries and screams, told the 
 work of pillage was begun ; while still a dropping musketry could 
 be heard on the distant rampart, where even yet the French made 
 resistance. At last even this was hushed ; but to it succeeded the 
 far more horrifying sounds of rapine and of murder. The forked 
 flames of burning houses rose here and there amid the black dark- 
 ness of the night ; and through the crackling of the timbers, and 
 
602 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 the falling crash of roofs, the heart-rending shriek of women rent 
 the very air. Officers pressed forward, but in vain were their efforts 
 to restrain their men ; the savage cruelty of the moment knew no 
 bounds of restraint. More than one gallant fellow perished in his 
 fruitless endeavor to enforce obedience ; and the most awful denun- 
 ciations were now uttered against those before whom at any other 
 time they dared not mutter. 
 
 Thus passed the long night, far more terrible to me than all the 
 dangers of the storm itself, with all its death and destruction dealing 
 around it. I knew not if I slept ; if so, the horrors on every side 
 were pictured in my dreams ; and when the gray dawn was breaking, 
 the cries from the doomed city were still ringing in my ears. Close 
 around me the scene was still and silent ; the wounded had been 
 removed during the night, but the thickly-packed dead lay side by 
 side where they fell. It was a fearful sight to see them, as, blood- 
 stained and naked (for already the camp-followers had stripped the 
 bodies), they covered the entire breach. From the rampart to the 
 ditch, the ranks lay where they had stood in life. A faint phos- 
 phoric flame flickered above their ghastly corpses, making even 
 death still more horrible. I was gazing steadfastly, with all that 
 stupid intensity which imperfect senses and exhausted faculties pos- 
 sess, when the sound of voices near aroused me. 
 
 "Bring him along — this way, Bob. Over the breach with the 
 scoundrel, into the fosse." 
 
 " He shall die no soldier's death, by Heaven !" cried another and 
 a deeper voice, " if I lay his skull open with my axe." 
 
 " Oh, mercy, mercy ! as you hope for " 
 
 " Traitor ! don't dare to mutter here !" As the last words were 
 spoken, four infantry soldiers, reeling from drunkenness, dragged 
 forward a pale and haggard wretch, whose limbs trailed behind him 
 like those of palsy ; his uniform was that of a French chasseur, but 
 his voice bespoke him English. 
 
 " Kneel down there, and die like a man ! You were one once !" ; 
 
 " Not so, Bill ; never. Fix bayonets, boys ! That's right ! Now 
 take the word from me." 
 
 " Oh, forgive me ! for the love of Heaven, forgive me !" screamed 
 the voice of the victim ; but his last accents ended in a death-cry, 
 for, as he spoke, the bayonets flashed for an instant in the air, and 
 the next were plunged into his body. Twice I had essayed to speak, 
 but my voice, hoarse from shouting, came not, and I could but look 
 upon this terrible murder with staring eyes and burning brain. At 
 last speech came, as if wrested by the very excess of my agony, and 
 I muttered aloud, "O God!" The words were not well spoken, 
 when the muskets were brought to the shoulders, and, reeking with 
 
THE RAMPART. 603 
 
 the blood of the murdered man, their savage faces scowled at me as 
 Hay. 
 
 A short and heartfelt prayer burst from my lips, and I was still. 
 The leader of the party called out, " Be steady I and together. One, 
 two ! Ground arms, boys ! Ground arms !" roared he, in a voice like 
 thunder; "it's the Captain himself!" Down went the muskets with 
 a crash ; while, springing towards me, the fellows caught me in their 
 arms, and with one jerk mounted me upon their shoulders, the cheer 
 that accompanied the sudden movement seeming like the yell of 
 maniacs. " Ha, ha, ha ! we have him now I" sang their wild voices, 
 as, with blood-stained hands and infuriated features, they bore me 
 down the rampart. My sensations of disgust and repugnance to the 
 party seemed at once to have evidenced themselves, for the corporal, 
 turning abruptly round, called out, 
 
 " Don't pity him, Captain ; the scoundrel was a deserter ; he escaped 
 from the picket two nights ago, and gave information of all our plans 
 to the enemy." 
 
 "Ay," cried another, " and, what's worse, he fired through an 
 embrasure near the breach, for two hours, upon his own regiment. 
 It was there we found him. This way, lads." 
 
 So saying, they turned short from the walls, and dashed down 
 a dark and narrow lane into the town. My struggles to get free 
 were perfectly ineffectual, and to my entreaties they were totally 
 indifferent. 
 
 In this way, therefore, we made our entrance into the Plaza, where 
 some hundred soldiers, of different regiments, were bivouacked. A 
 shout of recognition welcomed the fellows as they came; while, 
 suddenly, a party of 88th men, springing from the ground, rushed 
 forward with drawn bayonets, calling out, " Give him up this min- 
 ute, or, by the Father of Moses, we'll make short work of ye !" 
 
 The order was made by men who seemed well disposed to execute 
 it ; and I was accordingly grounded with a shock and a rapidity 
 that savored much more of ready compliance than any respect for 
 my individual comfort. A roar of laughter rang through the mot- 
 ley mass, and every powder-stained face around me seemed con- 
 vulsed with merriment. As I sat passively upon the ground, looking 
 ruefully about, whether my gestures or my words heightened the 
 absurdity of my appearance, it is hard to say ; but certainly the 
 laughter increased at each moment, and the drunken wretches 
 danced round me in ecstasy. 
 
 "Where is your Major? Major O'Shaughnessy, lads?" said I. 
 
 "He's in the church, with the General, your honor," said the 
 sergeant of the regiment, upon whom the mention of his officer's 
 name seemed at once to have a sobering influence. Assisting me to 
 
604 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 rise (for I was weak as a child), he led me through the dense crowd, 
 who, such is the influence of example, now formed into line, and, 
 as well as their state permitted, gave me a military salute as I 
 passed. " Follow me, sir," said the sergeant ; " this little dark 
 street to the left will take us to the private door of the chapel." 
 
 " Wherefore are they there, sergeant ?" 
 
 " There's a general of division mortally wounded." 
 
 " You did not hear his name ?" 
 
 " No, sir. All I know is, he was one of the storming party at the 
 lesser breach." 
 
 A cold, sickening shudder came over me 1 1 durst not ask further, 
 but pressed on with anxious steps towards the chapel. 
 
 " There, sir, yonder, where you see the light. That's the door." 
 
 So saying, the sergeant stopped suddenly, and placed his hand to 
 his cap. I saw at once that he was sufficiently aware of his condi- 
 tion not to desire to appear before his officers ; so, hurriedly thank- 
 ing him, I walked forward. 
 
 " Halt, there ! and give the countersign," cried a sentinel, who 
 with fixed bayonet stood before the door. 
 
 " I am an officer," said I, endeavoring to pass in. 
 
 "Stand back, stand back!" said the harsh voice of the High- 
 lander, for such he was. 
 
 "Is Major O'Shaughnessy in the church?" 
 
 " I dinna ken," was the short, rough answer. 
 
 " Who is the officer so badly wounded ?" 
 
 " I dinna ken," replied he, as gruffly as before ; while he added, 
 in a louder key, " Stand back, I tell ye, man ! Dinna ye see the 
 staff coming?" 
 
 I turned round hastily, and at the same instant several officers, 
 who, apparently from precaution, had dismounted at the end of the 
 street, were seen approaching. They came hurriedly forward, but 
 without speaking. He who was in advance of the party wore a 
 short blue cape, over an undress uniform. The rest were in full 
 regimentals. I had scarcely time to throw a passing glance upon 
 him, when the officer I have mentioned as coming first, called out 
 in a stern voice, 
 
 " Who are you, sir ?" 
 
 I started at the sounds ; it was not the first time those accents had 
 been heard by me. 
 
 " Captain O'Malley, 14th Light Dragoons." 
 
 " What brings you here, sir ? Your regiment is at Cava." 
 
 " I have been employed as acting aide-de-camp to General Crau- 
 furd," said I, hesitatingly. 
 
 "Is that your staff uniform?" said he, as with compressed brow 
 
THE RAMPART. 605 
 
 and stern look he fixed his eyes upon my coat. Before I had time 
 to reply, or, indeed, before I well knew how to do so, a gruff voice 
 from behind called out, 
 
 " D — me ! if that ain't the fellow that led the stormers through 
 a broken embrasure ! I say, my lord, that's the yeoman I was 
 telling you of. Is it not so, sir ?" continued he, turning towards 
 me. 
 
 " Yes, sir. I led a party of the 88th at the breach." 
 "And devilish well you did it, too !" added Picton, for it was he 
 who recognized me. " I saw him, my lord, spring down from the 
 parapet upon a French gunner, and break his sword as he cleft his 
 helmet in two. Yes, yes ; I shall not forget in a hurry how you 
 laid about you with the rammer of the gun ! By Jove ! that's it he 
 has in his hand !" 
 
 While Picton ran hurriedly on, Lord Wellington's calm but stern 
 features never changed their expression. The looks of those around 
 were bent upon me with interest and even admiration; but his 
 evinced nothing of either. 
 
 Eeverting at once to my absence from my post, he asked me, 
 
 " Did you obtain leave for a particular service, sir ?" 
 
 " No, my lord. It was simply from an accidental circumstance 
 
 that " 
 
 "Then report yourself at your quarters as under arrest." 
 
 " But, my lord," said Picton . Lord Wellington waited not 
 
 for the explanation, but walked firmly forward, and strode into the 
 church. The staff followed in silence, Picton turning one look of 
 kindness on me as he went, as though to say, " I'll not forget you." 
 " The devil take it," cried I, as I found myself once more alone, 
 " but I'm unlucky. What would turn out with other men the very 
 basis of their fortune, is ever with me the source of ill luck." 
 
 It was evident, from Picton's account, that I had distinguished 
 myself at the breach ; and yet, nothing was more clear than that 
 my conduct had displeased the Commander-in-Chief. Picturing 
 him ever to my mind's eye as the beau idAal of a military leader, by 
 some fatality of fortune I was continually incurring his displeasure, 
 for whose praise I would have risked my life. "And this con- 
 founded costume — what, in the name of every absurdity, could have 
 ever persuaded me to put it on ? What signifies it though a man 
 should cover himself with glory, if in the end he is to be laughed 
 at ? Well, well, it matters not much ; now my soldiering's over ! 
 And yet I could have wished that the last act of my campaigning 
 had brought with it pleasanter recollections." 
 
 As thus I ruminated, the click of the soldier's musket near aroused 
 me. Picton was passing out. A shade of gloom and depression was 
 
606 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 visible upon his features, and his lip trembled as he muttered some 
 sentences to himself. 
 
 " Ha ! Captain — I forget the name. Yes — Captain O'Malley ; 
 you are released from arrest. General Craufurd has spoken very 
 well of you, and Lord Wellington has heard the circumstances of 
 your case." 
 
 "Is it General Craufurd, then, that is wounded, sir?" said I, 
 eagerly. 
 
 Picton paused for a moment, while with an effort he controlled his 
 features into their stern and impassive expression, then added hur- 
 riedly, and almost harshly : — 
 
 " Yes, sir ; badly wounded, through the arm and in the lung. He 
 mentioned you to the notice of the Commander-in-Chief, and your 
 application for leave is granted. In fact, you are to have the dis- 
 tinguished honor of carrying back despatches. There, now ; you had 
 better join your brigade." 
 
 " Could I not see my General once more ? It may be for the last 
 time." 
 
 " No, sir !" sternly replied Picton. " Lord Wellington believes 
 you under arrest. It is as well he should suppose you obeyed his 
 orders." / 
 
 There was a tone of sarcasm in these words that prevented my 
 reply ; and muttering my gratitude for his well-timed and kindly 
 interference in my behalf, I bowed deeply, and turned away. 
 
 " I say, sir," said Picton, as he turned towards the church, " should 
 anything befall — that is, if, unfortunately, circumstances should 
 make you in want, and desirous of a staff appointment, remember 
 that you are known to General Picton." 
 
 Downcast and depressed by the news of my poor General, I 
 wended my way, with slow and uncertain steps, towards the ram- 
 part. A clear, cold, wintry sky, and a sharp, bracing air, made my 
 wound, slight as it was, more painful, and I endeavored to reach the 
 reserves, where I knew the hospital staff had established for the 
 present their quarters. I had not gone far when, from a marauding 
 party, I learned that my man Mike was in search of me through the 
 plain. A report of my death had reached him, and the poor fellow 
 was half distracted. 
 
 Longing anxiously to allay his fears on my account, which I well 
 knew might lead him into any act of folly or insanity, I pressed for- 
 ward; besides — shall 1 confess it? — amid the manifold thoughts of 
 sorrow and affliction which weighed me down, I could not divest 
 myself of the feeling that so long as I wore my present absurd cos- 
 tume, I could be nothing but an object of laughter and ridicule to 
 all who met me. 
 
THE DESPA TGH. 607 
 
 I had not long to look for my worthy follower, for I soon beheld 
 him cantering about the plain. A loud shout brought him beside 
 me ; and truly the poor fellow's delight was great and sincere. 
 With a thousand protestations of his satisfaction, and reiterated 
 assurances of what he would have done to the French prisoners if 
 anything had happened me, we took our way together towards the 
 camp. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 THE DESPATCH. 
 
 I WAS preparing to visit the town on the following morning, 
 when my attention was attracted by a dialogue which took 
 place beneath my window. 
 
 " I say, my good friend," cried a mounted orderly to Mike, who 
 was busily employed in brushing a jacket, — " I say, are you Captain 
 O'Malley's man ?" 
 
 " The least taste in life o' that same," replied he, with a half-jocu- 
 lar expression. 
 
 " Well, then," said the other, " take up these letters to your mas- 
 ter. Be alive, my fine fellow, for they are despatches, and I must 
 have a written return for them." 
 
 " Won't ye get off, and take a drop of somethin' refreshin' ? the 
 air is cowld this mornin'." 
 
 " I can't stay, my good friend, but thank you all the same ; so be 
 alive, will you ?" 
 
 " Arrah, there's no hurry in life. Sure it's an invitation to dinner 
 to Lord Wellington, or a tea-party at Sir Denny's ; sure, my mas- 
 ter's bothered with them every day o' the week ; that's the misfor- 
 tune of being an agreeable creature ; and I'd be led into dissipation 
 myself if I wasn't rear'd prudent." 
 
 "Well, come along; take these letters, for I must be off; my 
 time is short." 
 
 "That's more nor your nose is, honey," said Mike, evidently 
 somewhat piqued at the little effect his advances had made upon 
 the Englishman. "Give them here," continued he, while he 
 turned the various papers in every direction, affecting to read their 
 addresses. 
 
 " There's nothing for me here, I see. Did none of the generals 
 ask after me ?" 
 
608 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " You are a queer one !" said the dragoon, not a little puzzled 
 what to make of him. 
 
 Mike meanwhile thrust the papers carelessly into his pocket, and 
 strode into the house, whistling a quickstep as he went, with the air 
 of a man perfectly devoid of care or occupation. The next moment, 
 however, he appeared at my door, wiping his forehead with the back 
 of his hand, and apparently breathless with haste. 
 
 " Despatches, Mister Charles — despatches from Lord Wellington. 
 The orderly is waiting below for a return." 
 
 " Tell him he shall have it in one moment," replied I. " And now 
 bring me a light." 
 
 Before I had broken the seal of the envelope, Mike was once more 
 at the porch. 
 
 " My master is writing a few lines to say he'll do it. Don't be 
 talking of it," added he, dropping his voice, " but they want him to 
 take another fortress." 
 
 What turn the dialogue subsequently took, I cannot say, for I was 
 entirely occupied by a letter which accompanied the despatches. It 
 ran as follows : — 
 
 " Dear Sir : — The Commander-in-Chief has been kind enough 
 to accord you the leave of absence you applied for, and takes the 
 opportunity of your return to England to send you the accompany- 
 ing letters to his Royal Highness the Duke of York. To his ap- 
 proval of your conduct in the assault of last night you owe this dis- 
 tinguished mark of Lord Wellington's favor, which I hope will be 
 duly appreciated by you, and serve to increase your zeal for that 
 service in which you have already distinguished yourself. 
 
 " Believe me that I am most happy in being made the medium of 
 this communication, and have the honor to be, 
 
 " Very truly yours, 
 
 " T. Picton." 
 
 " Quarter-General, 
 "Ciudad Rodrigo, Jan. 20, 1812." 
 
 I read and re-read this note again and again. Every line was 
 conned over by me, and every phrase weighed and balanced in my 
 mind. Nothing could be more gratifying, nothing more satisfactory 
 to my feelings, and I would not have exchanged its possession for 
 the brevet of a lieutenant-colonel. 
 
 " Halloo, orderly !" cried I from the window, as I hurriedly sealed 
 my few words of acknowledgment ; " take this note back to General 
 Picton, and here's a guinea for yourself." So saying, I pitched into 
 his ready hand one of the very few which remained to me in the 
 
THE DESPA TCH. 609 
 
 world. "This is indeed good news !" said I to myself; " this is in- 
 deed a moment of unmixed happiness !" 
 
 As I closed the window, I could hear Mike pronouncing a glow- 
 ing eulogium upon my liberality, from which he could not, how- 
 ever, help in some degree detracting, as he added, — 
 
 "But the devil thank him, after all! Sure it's himself has the 
 illegant fortune and the fine place of it!" 
 
 Scarcely were the last sounds of the retiring horseman dying away 
 in the distance, when Mike's meditations took another form, and he 
 muttered between his teeth — " Oh ! holy Agatha ; a guinea, a raal 
 gold guinea, to a thief of a dragoon that come with the letter, and here 
 am I wearing a picture of the holy family for a back to my waist- 
 coat, all out of economy ; and sure, God knows, but maybe they'll 
 take their dealing trick out of me in purgatory for this hereafter ; 
 and faith, it's a beautiful pair of breeches I'd have had, if I wasn't 
 ashamed to put the twelve apostles on my legs." 
 
 While Mike ran on at this rate, my eyes fell upon a few lines of 
 postscript in Picton's letter, which I had not previously noticed. 
 
 " The official despatches of the storming are of course entrusted 
 to senior officers ; but I need scarcely remind you that it will be a 
 polite and proper attention to his Koyal Highness to present your 
 letters with as little delay as possible. Not a moment is to be lost 
 on your landing in England." 
 
 "Mike !" cried I, " how look the cattle for a journey ?" 
 
 " The chestnut is a little low in flesh, but in great wind, your 
 honor ; and the black horse is jumping like a filly." 
 
 "And Badger?" said I. 
 
 " Howld him, if you can, that's all ; but it's murthering work 
 this, carrying despatches day after day." 
 
 " This time, however, Mike, we must not grumble." 
 
 " Maybe it isn't far ?" 
 
 "Why, as to that, I shall not promise much. I'm bound for 
 England, Mickey." 
 
 " For England!" 
 
 " Yes, Mike, and for Ireland." 
 
 " For Ireland ! whoop !" shouted he, as he shied his cap into one 
 corner of the room, the jacket he was brushing into the other, and 
 began dancing round the table with no bad imitation of an Indian 
 war dance. 
 
 " How I'll dance like a fairy, 
 To see oulcl Dunleary, 
 And think twice ere I leave it to be a dragoon." 
 
 " Oh ! blessed hour ! isn't it beautiful to think of the illuminations, 
 
610 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 and dinners, and speeches, and shaking of hands, huzzaing, and hip, 
 hipping. Maybe there won't be pictures of us in all the shops — 
 Mister Charles and his man Mister Free. Maybe they won't make 
 plays out of us ; myself dressed in the gray coat with the red cuffs, 
 the cords, the tops, and the Caroline hat a little cocked, with a phiz 
 in the side of it." Here he made a sign with his expanded fingers 
 to represent a cockade, which he designated by this word. " I think 
 I see myself dining with the Corporation, and the Lord Mayor of 
 Dublin getting up to propose the health of the hero of El Boden, 
 Mr. Free ! and three times three, hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! Musha, 
 but it's dry I am gettin' with the thoughts of the punch and the 
 potteen negus." 
 
 rt If you go on at this rate, we're not likely to be soon at our jour- 
 ney's end ; so be alive now ; pack up my kit ; I shall start by twelve 
 o'clock." 
 
 With one spring Mike cleared the stairs, and, overthrowing every- 
 thing and everybody in his way, hurried towards the stable, chant- 
 ing at the top of his voice the very poetical strain he had indulged 
 me with a few minutes before. 
 
 My preparations were rapidly made. A few hurried lines of leave- 
 taking to the good fellows I had lived so much with and felt so 
 strongly attached to, with a firm assurance that I should join them 
 again ere long, was all that my time permitted. To Power I wrote 
 more at length, detailing the circumstances which my own letters 
 informed me of, and also those which invited me to return home. 
 This done, I lost not another moment, but set out upon my journey. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE LEAVE. 
 
 AFTER an hour's sharp riding we reached the Aguada, where 
 the river was yet fordable; crossing this, we mounted the 
 Sierra by a narrow and winding pass which leads through 
 the mountains towards Almeida. Here I turned once more to cast 
 a last and farewell look at the scene of our late encounter: It was 
 but a few hours that I had stood almost on the same spot, and yet 
 how altered was all around. The wide plain, then bustling with all 
 the life and animation of a large army, was now nearly deserted; 
 some dismounted guns, some broken up, dismantled batteries, around 
 which a few sentinels seemed to loiter rather than to keep guard ; a 
 
THE LEA VE. 611 
 
 strong detachment of infantry could be seen wending their way 
 towards the fortress, and a confused mass of camp-followers, sutlers, 
 and peasants, following their steps for protection against the pil- 
 lagers and the still ruder assaults of their own Guerillas. The for- 
 tress, too, was changed indeed. Those mighty walls before whose 
 steep sides the bravest fell back baffled and beaten, were now a mass 
 of ruin and decay ; the muleteer could be seen driving his mule 
 along through the rugged ascent of that breach, to win whose top 
 the best blood of Albion's chivalry was shed ; and the peasant child 
 looked timidly from those dark enclosures into the deep fosse below, 
 where perished hundreds of our best and bravest. The air was calm, 
 clear and unclouded ; no smoke obscured the transparent atmos- 
 phere ; the cannon had ceased ; and the voices that rang so late in 
 accents of triumphant victory were stilled in death. Everything, 
 indeed, had undergone a mighty change ; but nothing brought the 
 altered fortunes of the scenes so vividly to my mind as when I re- 
 membered that when last I had seen those walls, the dark shako of the 
 French grenadiers peered above their battlements, an<^ now the gay 
 tartan of the Highlander fluttered above them, and the red flag of 
 England waved boldly in the breeze. 
 
 Up to that moment my sensations were those of unmixed pleasure. 
 The thought of my home, my friends, my country, the feeling that 
 I was returning with the bronze of battle upon my cheek, and the 
 voice of praise still ringing in my heart, — these were proud thoughts, 
 and my bosom heaved short and quickly as I revolved them ; but as 
 I turned my gaze for the last time towards the gallant army I was 
 leaving, a pang of sorrow, of self-reproach, shot through me, and I 
 could not help feeling how far less worthily was I acting in yielding 
 to the impulse of my wishes, than had I remained to share the for- 
 tunes of the campaign. 
 
 So powerfully did these sensations possess me, that I sat motion- 
 less for some time, uncertain whether to proceed. Forgetting that I 
 was the bearer of important information, I only remembered that by 
 my own desire I was there ; my reason but half convinced me that 
 the part I had adopted was right and honorable, and more than once 
 my resolution to proceed hung in the balance. It was just at this 
 critical moment of my doubts that Mike, who had been hitherto be- 
 hind, came up. 
 
 " Is it the upper road, sir ?" said he, pointing to a steep and 
 rugged path which led by a zigzag ascent towards the crest of the 
 mountain. 
 
 I nodded in reply, when he added : 
 
 "Doesn't this remind your honor of Sleibh More, above the Shan- 
 non, where we used to be grouse-shooting ? And there's the keeper's 
 
612 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 house m the valley : and that might be your uncle, the master him- 
 self, waving his hat to you." 
 
 Had he known the state of my conflicting feelings at the moment, 
 he could not more readily have decided this doubt. I turned 
 abruptly away, put spurs to my horse, and dashed up the steep pass 
 at a pace which evidently surprised, and as evidently displeased, my 
 follower. 
 
 How natural it is ever to experience a reaction of depression and 
 lowness after the first burst of unexpected joy ! The moment of hap- 
 piness is scarce experienced ere come the doubts of its reality, the 
 fears for its continuance, the higher state of pleasurable excitement, 
 the more painful and the more pressing the anxieties that await on 
 it; the tension of delighted feelings cannot last, and our over- 
 wrought faculties seek repose in regrets. Happy he who can so 
 temper his enjoyments as to view them in their shadows as in their 
 sunshine ; he may not, it is true, behold the landscape in the blaze 
 of its noonday brightness, but he need not fear the thunder-cloud 
 nor the hurricane. The calm autumn of his bliss, if it dazzle not in 
 its brilliancy, will not any more be shrouded in darkness and in 
 gloom. 
 
 My first burst of pleasure over, the thought of my uncle's changed 
 fortunes pressed deeply on my heart, and a hundred plans suggested 
 themselves in turn to my mind to relieve his present embarrass- 
 ments ; but I knew how impracticable they would all prove when 
 opposed by his prejudices. To sell the old home of his forefathers, 
 to wander from the roof which had sheltered his name for genera- 
 tions, he would never consent to ; the law might by force expel him, 
 and drive him a wanderer and an exile, but of his own free will the 
 thing was hopeless. Considine, too, would encourage rather than 
 repress such feelings ; his feudalism would lead him to any lengths ; 
 and, in defence of what he would esteem a right, he would as soon 
 shoot a sheriff as a snipe, and, old as he was, ask for no better amuse- 
 ment than to arm the whole tenantry and give battle to the king's 
 troops on the wide plain of ScarifT. Amid such conflicting thoughts 
 I travelled on moodily and in silence, to the palpable astonishment 
 of Mike, who could not help regarding me as one from whom for- 
 tune met the most ungrateful returns. At every new turn of the 
 road he would endeavor to attract my attention by the objects 
 around ; no white-turreted chateau, no tapered spire in the distance 
 escaped him ; he kept up a constant ripple of half-muttered praise 
 and censure upon all he saw, and instituted unceasing comparisons 
 between the country and his own, in which, I am bound to say, Ire- 
 land rarely, if ever, had to complain of his patriotism. 
 
 When we arrived at Almeida, I learned that the Medea sloop of 
 
THE LEA VE. 613 
 
 war was lying off Oporto, and expected to sail for England in a few 
 days. The opportunity was not to be neglected ; the official de- 
 spatches, I was aware, would be sent through Lisbon, where the 
 Gorgon frigate wa3 in waiting to convey them ; but should I be for- 
 tunate enough to reach Oporto in time, I had little doubt of arriving 
 in England with the first intelligence of the fall of Ciudad Rodrigo. 
 . Reducing my luggage, therefore, to the smallest possible compass, 
 and having provided myself with a juvenile guide for the pass of La 
 Reyna, I threw myself, without undressing, upon the bed, and wait- 
 ed anxiously for the break of day to resume my journey. 
 
 As I ruminated over the prospect my return presented, I suddenly 
 remembered Frank Webber's letter, which I had hastily thrust into 
 a portfolio without reading, so occupied was I by Considine's epistle. 
 With a little searching I discovered it, and, trimming my lamp, as 
 I felt no inclination to sleep, I proceeded to the examination of 
 what seemed a more than usually voluminous epistle. It contained 
 four closely-written pages, accompanied by something like a plan 
 in an engineering sketch. My curiosity becoming further stimu- 
 lated by this, I sat down to peruse it. It began thus : 
 
 " Official Despatch of Lieutenant-General Francis Webber to Lord 
 Castlereagh, detailing the assault and capture of the old pump in 
 Trinity College, Dublin, on the night of the second of December, 
 eighteen hundred and eleven, with returns of killed, wounded, 
 and missing, with other information from the seat of war. 
 
 " Head-quarters, No. 2, Old Square. 
 
 " My Lord, — In compliance with the instructions contained in 
 your lordship's despatch of the twenty-first ultimo, I concentrated 
 the force under my command, and, assembling the generals of div- 
 ision, made known my intentions in the following general order : 
 
 "A. G. O. 
 
 " The following troops will this evening assemble at head-quarters, 
 and, having partaken of a sufficient dinner for the next two days, 
 with punch for four, will hold themselves in readiness to march in 
 the following order: 
 
 "Harry Nesbitt's brigade of Incorrigibles will form a blockading 
 force, in the line extending from the Vice-Provost's house to the 
 library. The light division, under Mark Waller, will skirmish from 
 the gate towards the middle of the square, obstructing the march of 
 the Cuirassiers of the Guard, which, under the command of old 
 Duncan, the porter, are expected to move in that direction. Two 
 columns of attack will be formed by the senior sophisters of the Old 
 
614 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Guard, and a forlorn hope of the ' cautioned' men at the last four 
 examinations will form, under the orders of Timothy O'Rourke, 
 beneath the shadow of the dining-hall. 
 
 "At the signal of the Dean's bell the stormers will move forward. 
 A cheer from the united corps will then announce the moment of 
 attack. 
 
 " The word for the night will be • May the devil admire me !' 
 " The Commander of the Forces desires that the different corps 
 should be as strong as possible, and expects that no man will re- 
 main, on any pretence whatever, in the rear, with the lush. Dur- 
 ing the main assault, Cecil Cavendish will make a feint upon the 
 Provost's windows, to be converted into a real attack if the ladies 
 scream. 
 
 "general order. 
 
 " The Commissary-General Foley will supply the following arti- 
 cles for the use of the troops : — Two hams ; eight pair of chickens, 
 the same to be roasted ; a devilled turkey ; sixteen lobsters ; eight 
 hundred of oysters, with a proportionate quantity of cold sherry and 
 hot punch. 
 
 " The army will get drunk by ten o'clock to-night. 
 
 " Having made these dispositions, my lord, I proceeded to mis- 
 lead the enemy as to our intentions, in suffering my servant to be 
 taken with an intercepted despatch. This, being a prescription by 
 Doctor Colles, would convey to the Dean's mind the impression that 
 I was still upon the sick list. This being done, and four canisters 
 of Dartford gunpowder being procured on tick, our military chest 
 being in a most deplorable condition, I waited for the moment of 
 attack. 
 
 " A heavy rain, accompanied with a frightful hurricane, prevailed 
 during the entire day, rendering the march of the troops, who came 
 from the neighborhood of Merrion-square and Fitzwilliam street, a 
 service of considerable fatigue. The outlying pickets in College- 
 green, being induced, probably, by the inclemency of the season, 
 were rather tipsy in joining, and having engaged in a skirmish with 
 old M'Calister, tying his red uniform over his head, the moment of 
 attack was precipitated, and we moved to the trenches by half-past 
 nine o'clock. 
 
 " Nothing could be more orderly, nothing more perfect, than the 
 march of the troops. As we approached the corner of the commons'- 
 hall, a skirmish on the rear apprised us that our intentions had be- 
 come known; and I soon learned from my aide-de-camp, Bob 
 Moore, that the attack was made by a strong column of the enemy, 
 under the command of old Fitzgerald. 
 
THE LEA VE. 615 
 
 " Perpendicular (as your lordship is aware he is styled by the 
 army) came on in a determined manner, and before many minutes 
 had elapsed had taken several prisoners, among others Tom Drum- 
 mond — Long Tom — who, having fallen on all fours, was mistaken 
 for a long eighteen. The success, however, was but momentary ; 
 Nesbitt's brigade attacked them in flank, rescued the prisoners, ex- 
 tinguished the Dean's lantern, and, having beaten back the heavy 
 porters, took Perpendicular himself prisoner. 
 
 "An express from the left informed me that the attack upon the 
 Provost's house had proved equally successful : there wasn't a whole 
 pane of glass in the front, and from a footman who deserted, it was 
 learned that Mrs. Hutchinson was in hysterics. 
 
 " While I was reading this despatch, a strong feeling of the line 
 towards the right announced that something was taking place in 
 that direction. Bob Moore, who rode by on Drummond's back, 
 hurriedly informed me that Williams had put the lighted end of his 
 cigar to one of the fuses, but the powder, being wet, did not explode, 
 notwithstanding his efforts to effect it. Upon this, I hastened to the 
 front, where I found the individual in question kneeling upon the 
 ground, and endeavoring, as far as punch would permit him, to 
 kindle a flame at the port-fire. Before I could interfere, the spark 
 had caught ; a loud, hissing noise followed ; the different magazines 
 successively became ignited, and the fire reached the great four- 
 pound charge. 
 
 " I cannot convey to your lordship, by any words of mine, an idea 
 of this terrible explosion ; the blazing splinters were hurled into 
 the air and fell in fiery masses on every side from the Park to King 
 William ; Ivey, the bell-ringer, was precipitated from the scaffold 
 beside the bell, and fell headlong into the mud beneath ; the sur- 
 rounding buildings trembled at the shock; the windows were 
 shattered, and, in fact, a scene of perfect devastation ensued on all 
 sides. 
 
 " When the smoke cleared away, I rose from my recumbent 
 position, and perceived with delight that not a vestige of the 
 pump remained. The old iron handle was imbedded in the wall 
 of the dining-hall, and its round knob stood out like the end of a 
 queue. 
 
 " Our loss was, of course, considerable. Ordering the wounded 
 to the rear, I proceeded to make an orderly and regular retreat. At 
 this time, however, the enemy had assembled in force. Two bat- 
 talions of porters, led on by Doctor Dobbin, charged us on the 
 flank ; a heavy brigade poured down upon us from the battery, and 
 but for the exertions of Harry Nesbitt, our communication with our 
 reserves must have been cut off. Cecil Cavendish also came up ; for, 
 
616 CHARLES 0' MALLET. 
 
 although beaten in his great attack, the forces under his command 
 had penetrated by the kitchen windows, and carried off a considera- 
 ble quantity of cold meat. 
 
 " Concentrating the different corps, I made an echelon movement 
 upon the chapel, to admit of the light division coining up. This 
 they did in a few moments, informing me that they had left Per- 
 pendicular in the haha, which, as your lordship is aware, is a fosse 
 of the very greenest and most stagnant nature. We now made good 
 our retreat upon number ' 2,' carrying our wounded with 'us. The 
 plunder we also secured, but we kicked the prisoners and suffered 
 them to escape. 
 
 " Thus terminated, my lord, one of the brightest achievements 
 of the under-graduate career. I enclose a list of the wounded, as 
 also an account of the various articles returned in the Commissary- 
 General's list. 
 
 Harry Nesbitt : severely wounded ; no coat nor hat ; a black 
 eye ; left shoe missing. 
 
 Cecil Cavendish : face severely scratched ; supposed to have re- 
 ceived his wound in the attack upon the kitchen. 
 
 " Tom Drummond : not recognizable by his friends ; his features 
 resembling a transparency disfigured by the smoke of the preceding 
 night's illumination. 
 
 " Bob Moore : slightly wounded. 
 
 " I would beg particularly to recommend all these officers to your 
 lordship's notice; indeed, the conduct of Moore, in kicking the 
 Dean's lantern out of the porter's hand, was marked by great 
 promptitude and decision. This officer will present to H. R. H. 
 the following trophies, taken from the enemy : The Dean's cap and 
 tassel; the key of his chambers; Dr. Dobbin's wig and bands; four 
 porters' helmets, and a book on the cellar. 
 
 " I have the honor to remain, my lord, &c, 
 
 "Francis Webber. 
 "G. O. 
 
 " The Commander of the Forces returns his thanks to the various 
 officers and soldiers employed in the late assault, for their perse- 
 vering gallantry and courage. The splendor of the achievement can 
 only be equalled by the humanity and good conduct of the troops. 
 It only remains for him to add, that the less they say about the 
 transaction, and the sooner they are severally confined to their beds 
 with symptoms of contagious fever, the better. 
 
 "Meanwhile, to concert upon the future measures of the cam- 
 paign, the army will sup to-night at Morrison's." 
 
 Here ended this precious epistle, rendering one fact sufficiently 
 
THE LEA VE. 617 
 
 evident— that however my worthy friend had advanced in years, he- 
 had not grown in wisdom. 
 
 While ruminating upon the strange infatuation which could per- 
 suade a gifted and an able man to lavish upon dissipation and reck- 
 less absurdity the talents that might, if well directed, raise him to 
 eminence and distinction, a few lines of a newspaper paragraph fell 
 from the paper I was reading. It ran thus : 
 
 "LATE OUTRAGE IN TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN. 
 
 " We have great pleasure in stating that the serious disturbance 
 which took place within the walls of our University a few evenings 
 since was in nowise attributable to the conduct of the students. A 
 party of ill-disposed townspeople were, it would appear, the insti- 
 gators and perpetrators of the outrage. That their object was the 
 total destruction of our venerated University there can be but little 
 doubt. Fortunately, however, they did not calculate upon the esprit 
 de corps of the students, a body of whom, under the direction of Mr. 
 Webber, successfully opposed the assailants, and finally drove them 
 from the walls. 
 
 " It is, we understand, the intention of the board to confer some 
 mark of approbation upon Mr. Webber, who, independently of this, 
 has strong claims upon their notice, Kis collegiate success pointing 
 him out as the most extraordinary man of his day." 
 
 " This, my dear Charley, will give you some faint conception of 
 one of the most brilliant exploits of modern days. The bulletin, 
 believe me, is not Napoleonized into any bombastic extravagance 
 of success. The thing was splendid ; from the brilliant firework of 
 the old pump itself to the figure of Perpendicular dripping with 
 duckweed, like an insane river-god, it was unequalled. Our fellows 
 behaved like trumps ; and, to do them justice, so did the enemy. 
 But unfortunately, notwithstanding this, and the plausible para- 
 graphs of the morning papers, I have been summoned before the 
 board for Tuesday next. 
 
 " Meanwhile, I employ myself in throwing off a shower of small 
 squibs for the journals, so that if the board deal not mercifully with 
 me, I may meet with sympathy from the public. I have just de- 
 spatched a little editorial bit for the Times, calling, in terms of 
 parental tenderness, upon the University to say — 
 
 "'How long will the extraordinary excesses of a learned func- 
 tionary be suffered to disgrace college ? Is Doctor ■ to be per- 
 mitted to exhibit an example of more riotous insubordination than 
 would be endured in an under-graduate ? More on this subject 
 hereafter.' 
 
618 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "'Saunders' News Letter. — Doctor Barret appeared at the head 
 police-office, before Alderman Darley, to make oath that neither 
 he nor Catty were concerned in the late outrage upon the pump/ 
 &c, &c. 
 
 " Paragraphs like these are flying about in every provincial paper 
 of the empire. People shake their heads when they speak of the 
 University, and respectable females rather cross over by King Wil- 
 liam and the Bank than pass near its precincts. 
 
 "Tuesday Evening. 
 
 " Would you believe it, they've expelled me ! Address your next 
 letter as usual, for they haven't got rid of me yet. Yours, 
 
 " F. W." 
 
 "So I shall find him in his old quarters," thought I, "and evi- 
 dently not much altered since we parted." It was not without a 
 feeling of (I trust pardonable) pride that I thought over my own 
 career in the interval. My three years of campaigning life had 
 given me some insight into the world, and some knowledge of my- 
 self, and conferred upon me a boon of which I know not the equal 
 — that, while yet young, and upon the very threshold of life, I 
 should have tasted the enthusiastic pleasures of a soldier's fortune 
 and braved the dangers and difficulties of a campaign at a time 
 when, under other auspices, I might have wasted my years in un- 
 profitable idleness or careless dissipation. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI, 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 TWELVE hours after my arrival in England I entered London. 
 I cannot attempt to record the sensations which thronged my 
 mind as the din and tumult of that mighty city awoke me 
 from a sound sleep I had fallen into in the corner of the chaise- 
 The seemingly interminable lines of lamplight, the crash of carri- 
 ages, the glare of the shops, the buzz of voices, made up a chaotic 
 mass of sights and sounds, leaving my efforts at thought vain and 
 fruitless. 
 
 Obedient to my instructions, I lost not a moment in my prepara- 
 tions to deliver my despatches. Having dressed myself in the full 
 
LONDON. 619 
 
 uniform of my corps, I drove to the Horse Guards. It was now 
 nine o'clock, and I learned that his Royal Highness had gone to 
 dinner at Carlton House. In a few words which I spoke with the 
 aide-de-camp, I discovered that no information of the fall of Ciudad 
 Eodrigo had yet reached England. The greatest anxiety prevailed 
 as to the events of the Peninsula, from which no despatches had 
 been received for several weeks past. 
 
 To Carlton House I accordingly bent my steps, without any pre- 
 cise determination how I should proceed when there, nor knowing 
 how far etiquette might be an obstacle to the accomplishment of my 
 mission. The news of which I was the bearer was, however, of too 
 important a character to permit me to hesitate, and I presented my- 
 self to the aide-de-camp in waiting, simply stating that I was en- 
 trusted with important letters to his Royal Highness, the purport 
 of which did not admit of delay. 
 
 " They have not gone to dinner yet," lisped out the aide-de-camp, 
 " and if you would permit me to deliver the letters " 
 
 " Mine are despatches," said I, somewhat proudly, and in nowise 
 disposed to cede to another the honor of personally delivering them 
 into the hands of the Duke. 
 
 " Then you had better present yourself at the levee to-morrow 
 morning," replied he, carelessly, while he turned into one of the 
 window recesses, and resumed the conversation with one of the 
 gentlemen in waiting. 
 
 I stood for some moments uncertain and undecided, reluctant on 
 the one part to relinquish my claim as the bearer of despatches, and 
 equally unwilling to defer their delivery till the following day. 
 
 Adopting the former alternative, I took my papers from my 
 sabretasche, and was about to place them in the hands of the aide- 
 de-camp, when the folding doors at the end of the apartment sud- 
 denly flew open, and a large and handsome man, with a high, bald 
 forehead, entered hastily. 
 
 The different persons in waiting sprang from their lounging atti- 
 tudes upon the sofas, and bowed respectfully as he passed on towards 
 another door. His dress was a plain blue coat, buttoned to the 
 collar, and his only decoration a brilliant star upon the breast. 
 There was that air, however, of high birth and bearing about him 
 that left no doubt upon my mind that he was of the blood royal. 
 
 As the aide-de-camp to whom I had been speaking opened the 
 door for him to pass out, I could hear some words in a low voice, 
 in which the phrases "letters of importance" and "your Royal 
 Highness" occurred. The individual addressed turned suddenly 
 about, and casting a rapid glance around the room, without deign- 
 ing a word in reply, walked straight up to where I was standing. 
 
620 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Despatches for me, sir ?" said he, shortly, taking the packet 
 from my hand as he spoke. 
 
 " For his Royal Highness the Commander-in-Chief," said I, bow- 
 ing respectfully, and still uncertain in whose presence I was stand- 
 ing. He broke the seal without answering, and, as his eye caught 
 the first lines of the despatch, broke out into an exclamation of — 
 
 " Ha ! Peninsular news ! When did you arrive, sir ?" 
 
 " An hour since, sir." 
 
 " And these letters are from " 
 
 " General Picton, your Eoyal Highness." 
 
 " How glorious !— how splendidly done !" muttered he to himself, 
 as he ran his eyes rapidly over the letter. "Are you Captain 
 O'Malley, whose name is mentioned here so favorably ?" 
 
 I bowed deeply in reply. 
 
 "You are most highly spoken of, and it will give me sincere 
 pleasure to recommend you to the notice of the Prince Eegent. But 
 stay a moment." So saying, he hurriedly passed from the room, 
 leaving me overwhelmed at the suddenness of the incident, and a 
 mark of no small astonishment to the different persons in waiting, 
 who had hitherto no other idea but that my despatches were from 
 Hounslow or Knightsbridge. 
 
 " Captain O'Malley," said an officer covered with decorations, and 
 whose slightly foreign accent bespoke the Hanoverian, " his Royal 
 Highness requests you will accompany me." The door opened as 
 he spoke, and I found myself in a most splendidly lit-up apartment, 
 the walls covered with pictures, and the ceiling divided into panels, 
 resplendent with the richest gilding. A group of persons, in court 
 dresses, were conversing in a low tone as we entered, but suddenly 
 ceased, and, saluting my conductor respectfully, made way for us to 
 pass on. The folding-doors again opened as we approached, and we 
 found ourselves in a long gallery, whose sumptuous furniture and 
 costly decorations shone beneath the rich tints of a massive lustre 
 of ruby glass, diffusing a glow resembling the most gorgeous sun- 
 set. Here also some persons in handsome uniform were conversing 
 one of whom accosted my companion by the title of " Baron." Nod- 
 ding familiarly as he muttered a few words in German, he passed 
 forward, and the next moment the doors were thrown suddenly 
 wide, and we entered the drawing-room. 
 
 The buzz of voices and the sound of laughter reassured me as I 
 came forward, and before I had time to think where and why I was 
 there, the Duke of York advanced towards me with a smile of pecu- 
 liar sweetness in its expression, and said, as he turned towards one 
 side, — 
 
 " Your Royal Highness — Captain O'Malley." 
 
LONDON. G21 
 
 As he spoke, the Prince moved forward, and bowed slightly. 
 
 " You've brought us capital news, Mr. O'Malley. May I beg, if 
 you're not too much tired, you'll join us at dinner? I am most 
 anxious to learn the particulars of the assault." 
 
 As I bowed my acknowledgments to the gracious invitation, he 
 continued, — 
 
 " Are you acquainted with my friend here ? — but of course you 
 can scarcely be — you began too early as a soldier. So let me pre- 
 sent you to my friend, Mr. Tierney,"— a middle-aged man, whose' 
 broad, white forehead and deep-set eyes gave a character to features 
 that were otherwise not remarkable in expression, and who bowed 
 rather stiffly. 
 
 Before he had concluded a somewhat labored compliment to me, 
 we were joined by a third person, whose strikingly-handsome fea- 
 tures were lit up with an expression of the most animated kind. He 
 accosted the Prince with an air of easy familiarity, and while he led 
 him from the group, appeared to be relating some anecdote, which 
 actually convulsed his Royal Highness with laughter. 
 
 Before I had time or opportunity to inquire who the individual 
 could be, dinner was announced, and the wide folding-doors being 
 thrown open, displayed the magnificent dining-room of Carlton 
 House, in all the blaze and splendor of its magnificence. 
 
 The sudden change from the rough vicissitudes of campaigning 
 life to all the luxury and voluptuous elegance of a brilliant court, 
 created too much confusion in my mind to permit of my impressions 
 being the most accurate or most collected. The splendor of the 
 scene, the rank, but even more the talent, of the individuals by 
 whom I was surrounded, had all their full effect upon me; and 
 although I found, from the tone of the conversation about, how im- 
 measurably I was their inferior, yet by a delicate and courteous 
 interest in the scene of which I had lately partaken, they took away 
 the awkwardness which, in some degree, was inseparable from the 
 novelty of my position among them. 
 
 Conversing about the Peninsula with a degree of knowledge 
 which I could in nowise comprehend from those not engaged in the 
 war, they appeared perfectly acquainted with all the details of the 
 campaign ; and I heard on every side of me anecdotes and stories 
 which I scarcely believed known beyond the precincts of a regi- 
 ment. The Prince himself — the grace and charm of whose narra- 
 tive talents have seldom been excelled — was particularly conspicu- 
 ous, and I could not help feeling struck with his admirable imita- 
 tions of voice and manner. The most accomplished actor could not 
 have personated the cannie, calculating spirit of the Scot, or the 
 rollicking recklessness of the Irishman, with more tact and finesse. 
 
622 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 But far above all this shone the person whom I have already alluded 
 to as speaking to his Royal Highness in the drawing-room. Com- 
 bining the happiest conversational eloquence with a quick, ready, 
 and brilliant fancy, he threw from him, in all the careless profusion 
 of boundless resource, a shower of pointed and epigrammatic witti- 
 cisms — now illustrating a really difficult subject by one happy 
 touch, as the blaze of the lightning will light up the whole surface 
 of the dark landscape beneath it; now turning the force of an 
 adversary's argument by some fallacious but unanswerable jest, 
 accompanying the whole by those fascinations of voice, look, gesture, 
 and manner, which have made those who once have seen never able 
 to forget Brinsley Sheridan. 
 
 I am not able, were I even disposed, to record more particularly 
 the details of that most brilliant evening of my life. On every side 
 of me I heard the names of those whose fame as statesmen, or whose 
 repute as men of letters, was ringing throughout Europe. They 
 were then, too, not in the easy indolence of ordinary life, but dis- 
 playing with their utmost effort those powers of wit, fancy, imagina- 
 tion, and eloquence which had won for them elsewhere their high 
 and exalted position. The masculine understanding and powerful 
 intellect of Tierney vied with the brilliant and dazzling conceptions 
 of Sheridan. The easy bonhomie and English heartiness of Fox con- 
 trasted with the keen sarcasm and sharp raillery of O'Kelly. While 
 contesting the palm with each, the Prince evinced powers of mind 
 and eloquent facilities of expression that in any walk of life must 
 have made their possessor a most distinguished man. Politics, war, 
 women, literature, the turf, the navy, the opposition, architecture, 
 and the drama, were all discussed with a degree of information and 
 knowledge that proved to me how much of real acquirements can 
 be obtained by those whose exalted station surrounds them with the 
 collective intellect of a nation. As for myself, the time flew past 
 unconsciously. So brilliant a display of all that was courtly and 
 fascinating in manner, and all that was brightest in genius, was so 
 new to me, that I really felt like one entranced. To this hour, my 
 impression, however confused in details, is as though that evening 
 were but yesternight; and although since that period I have enjoyed 
 numerous opportunities of meeting with the great and the gifted, 
 yet I treasure the memory of that evening as by far the most excit- 
 ing of my whole life. 
 
 While I abstain from any mention of the many incidents of the 
 evening, I cannot pass over one which, occurring to myself, is valu- 
 able but as showing, by one slight and passing trait, the amiable 
 and kind feeling of one whose memory is hallowed in the service. 
 
 A little lower than myself, on the opposite side of the table, I 
 
THE BELL A T BRISTOL. 623 
 
 perceived an old military acquaintance whom I had first met in 
 Lisbon ; he was then on Sir Charles Stewart's staff, and we met 
 almost daily. Wishing to commend myself to his recollection, I 
 endeavored for some time to catch his eye, but in vain ; but at last, 
 when I thought I had succeeded, I called to him, — 
 
 " I say, Fred, a glass of wine with you." 
 
 When suddenly, the Duke of York, who was speaking to Lord 
 Hertford, turned quickly round, and, taking the decanter in his 
 hand, replied, — 
 
 " With pleasure, O'Malley ; what shall it be, my boy?" 
 
 I shall never forget the manly good-humor of his look as he sat 
 waiting for my answer. He had taken my speech as addressed to 
 himself, and concluding that, from fatigue, the novelty of the scene, 
 my youth, &c, I was not over collected, vouchsafed in this kind way 
 to receive it. 
 
 " So," said he, as I stammered out my explanation, " I was de- 
 ceived ; however, don't cheat me out of my glass of wine. Let us 
 have it now." 
 
 With this little anecdote, whose truth I vouch for, I shall con- 
 clude. More than one now living was a witness to it, and my only 
 regret in the mention of it is my inability to convey the readiness 
 with which he seized the moment of apparent difficulty to throw the 
 protection of his kind and warm-hearted nature over the apparent 
 folly of a boy. 
 
 It was late when the party broke up, and as I took my leave of the 
 Prince, he once more expressed himself in gracious terms towards 
 me, and gave me personally an invitation to a breakfast at Houns- 
 low on the following Saturday. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLII. 
 
 THE BELL AT BRISTOL. 
 
 ON the morning after my dinner at Carlton House, I found my 
 breakfast-table covered with cards and invitations. The 
 news of the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo was published in 
 all the morning papers, and my own humble name in letters of three 
 feet long, was exhibited in placards throughout the city. Less to 
 this circumstance, however, than to the kind and gracious notice of 
 the Prince, was I indebted for the attentions which were shown me 
 by every one ; and, indeed, so flattering was the reception I met 
 
624 CHARLES 0>M ALLEY. 
 
 with, and so overwhelming the civility showered on me from all 
 sides, that it required no small effort on my part not to believe my- 
 self as much a hero as they would make me. An eternal round of 
 dinners, balls, breakfasts, and entertainments, filled up the entire 
 week. I was included in every invitation to Carlton House, and 
 never appeared without receiving from his Royal Highness the most 
 striking marks of attention. Captivating as all this undoubtediy 
 was, and fascinated as I felt at being the lion of London, the 
 courted and sought after by the high, the titled, and talented of the 
 great city of the universe, yet, amid all the splendor and seduction 
 of that new world, my heart instinctively turned from the glare and 
 brilliancy of gorgeous saloons — from the soft looks and softer voice 
 of beauty — from the words of praise, as they fell from the lips of 
 those whose notice was fame itself-— to my humble home amid the 
 mountains of the west. Delighted and charmed as I felt by that 
 tribute of flattery which associated my name with one of the most 
 brilliant actions of my country, yet hitherto I had experienced no 
 touch of home or fatherland. England was to me as the high and 
 powerful head of my house whose greatness and whose glory shed a 
 halo far and near, from the proudest to the humblest of those that 
 call themselves Britons ; but Ireland was the land of my birth — 
 the land of my earliest ties, my dearest associations — the kind 
 mother, whose breath had fanned my brow in infancy; and for 
 her in my manhood my heart beat with every throb of filial affec- 
 tion. Need I say, then, how ardently I longed to turn homeward ; 
 for independent of all else, I could not avoid some self-reproach on 
 thinking what might be the condition of those I prized the most on 
 earth, at the very moment I was engaging in all the voluptuous 
 abandonment and all the fascinating excesses of a life of pleasure. 
 I wrote several letters home, but received no answer ; nor did I, in 
 the whole round of London society, meet with a single person who 
 could give me information of my family or my friends. The Easter 
 recess had sent the different members of Parliament to their homes ; 
 and thus, within a comparatively short distance of all I cared for, 1 
 could learn nothing of their fate. 
 
 The invitations of the Prince Regent, which were, of course, to be 
 regarded as commands, still detained me in London ; and I knew 
 not in what manner to escape from the fresh engagements which 
 each day heaped upon me. In my anxiety upon the subject, I com- 
 municated my wishes to a friend on the Duke's staff, and the follow- 
 ing morning, as I presented myself at his levee, he called me towards 
 him, and addressed me : — 
 
 "What leave have you got, Captain O'Malley?" 
 
 " Three months, your Royal Highness." 
 
THE BELL AT BRISTOL. 625 
 
 " Do you desire an unattached troop ? for, if so, an opportunity 
 occurs just at this moment." 
 
 " I thank you most sincerely, sir, for your condescension in think- 
 ing of me, but my wish is to join my regiment at the expiration of 
 my leave." 
 
 " Why, I thought they told me you wanted to spend some time in 
 Ireland?" 
 
 " Only sufficient to see my friends, your Royal Highness. That 
 done, I'd rather join my regiment immediately/' 
 
 "Ah ! that alters the case. So then, probably, you'd like to leave 
 us at once. I see how it is ; you've been staying here against your 
 will all this while. Then, don't say a word. I'll make your excuses 
 at Carlton House ; and the better to cover your retreat, I'll employ 
 you on service. Here, Gordon, let Captain O'Malley have the des- 
 patches for Sir Henry Howard at Cork." As he said this, he turned 
 towards me with an air of affected sternness in his manner, and con- 
 tinued: "I expect, Captain O'Malley, that you will deliver the 
 despatches entrusted to your care without a moment's loss of time. 
 You will leave London within an hour. The instructions for your 
 journey will be sent to your hotel. And now," said he, again 
 changing his voice to its natural tone of kindliness and courtesy — 
 " and now, my boy, good-bye, and a safe journey to you. These 
 letters will pay your expenses, and the occasion save you all the 
 worry of leave-taking." 
 
 I stood confused and speechless, unable to utter a single word of 
 gratitude for such unexpected kindness. The Duke saw at once my 
 difficulty, and, as he shook me warmly by the hand, added, in a 
 laughing tone, — 
 
 " Don't wait, now. You mustn't forget that your despatches are 
 pressing." 
 
 I bowed deeply, attempted a few words of acknowledgment, hesi- 
 tated, blundered, and broke down ; and at last got out of the room, 
 Heaven knows how I and found myself running towards Long's at 
 the top of my speed. Within that same hour I was rattling along 
 towards Bristol as fast as four posters could burn the pavement, 
 thinking with ecstasy over the pleasures of my reception in Eng- 
 land, but far more than all of the kindness evinced towards me by 
 him who, in every feeling of his nature, and in every feature of his 
 deportment, was " every inch a prince." 
 
 However astonished I had been at the warmth by which I was 
 treated in London, I was still less prepared for the enthusiasm which 
 greeted me in every town through which I passed. There was not 
 a village where we stopped to change horses whose inhabitants did 
 not simultaneously pour forth to welcome me with every demonstra- 
 40 
 
626 CHARLES O y M ALLEY. 
 
 tion of delight. That the fact of four horses and a yellow chaise 
 should have elicited such testimonies of satisfaction, was somewhat 
 difficult to conceive; even had the important news that I was the 
 bearer of despatches been telegraphed from London by successive 
 postboys, still the extraordinary excitement was unaccountable. It 
 was only on reaching Bristol that I learned to what circumstance 
 my popularity was owing. My friend Mike, in humble imitation of 
 election practices, had posted a large placard on the back of the 
 chaise, announcing, in letters of portentous length, something like 
 the following : — 
 
 "Bloody news! Fall of Ciudad Eodrigo ! Five thousand pri- 
 soners and two hundred pieces of cannon taken I" 
 
 This veracious and satisfactory statement, aided by Mike's per- 
 sonal exertions, and an unwearied performance on the trumpet he 
 had taken from the French dragoon, had roused the population of 
 every hamlet, and made our journey from London to Bristol one 
 scene of uproar, noise and confusion. All my attempts to suppress 
 Mike's oratory or music were perfectly unavailing. In fact, he had 
 pledged my health so many times during the day — he had drunk so 
 many toasts to the success of the British arms — so many to the Eng- 
 lish nation — so many in honor of Ireland — and so many in honor 
 of Mickey Free himself, that all respect for my authority was lost 
 in his enthusiasm for my greatness, and his shouts became wilder, 
 and the blasts from the trumpet more fearful and incoherent ; and 
 finally, on the last stage of our journey, having exhausted, as it were, 
 every tribute of his lungs, he seemed (if I were to judge by the evi- 
 dence of my ears) to be performing something very like a hornpipe 
 on the roof of the chaise. 
 
 Happily for me there is a limit to all human efforts, and even his 
 powers at length succumbed ; so that, when we arrived at Bristol, I 
 persuaded him to go to bed, and I once more was left to the enjoy- 
 ment of some quiet. To fill up the few hours which intervened 
 before bedtime, I strolled into the coffee-room. The English look 
 of every one, and everything around, had still its charm for me ; and 
 I was contemplating with no small admiration that air of neatness 
 and propriety so observant from the bright-faced clock, that ticked 
 unwearily upon the mantelpiece, to the trim waiter himself, with 
 noiseless step, and that mixed look of vigilance and vacancy. The 
 perfect stillness struck me, save when a deep voice called for 
 "another brandy-and-water," and some more modestly-toned re- 
 quest would utter a desire for " more cream." The attention of 
 each man, absorbed in the folds of his voluminous newspaper, 
 scarcely deigning a glance at the new comer who entered, were all 
 in keeping, giving, in their solemnity and gravity, a character of 
 
THE BELL AT BRISTOL. 627 
 
 almost religious seriousness to what in any other land would be a 
 scene of riotous noise and discordant tumult. I was watching all 
 these with a more than common interest, when the door opened, 
 and the waiter entered with a large placard. He was followed by 
 another with a ladder, by whose assistance he succeeded in attaching 
 the large square of paper to the wall, above the fireplace. Every 
 one about rose up, curious to ascertain what was going forward ; and 
 I myself joined in the crowd around the fire. The first glance at 
 the announcement showed me what it meant, and it was with a 
 strange mixture of shame and confusion I read : 
 
 " ' Fall of Ciudad Eodrigo ; with a full and detailed account at 
 the storming of the great breach — capture of the enemy's cannon, 
 &c. — by Michael Free, 14th Light Dragoons.' " 
 
 Leaving the many around me busied in conjecturing who the 
 aforesaid Mr. Free might be, and what peculiar opportunities he 
 might have enjoyed for his report, I hurried from the room and 
 called the waiter. 
 
 "What's the meaning of the announcement you've just put up in 
 the coffee-room ? Where did it come from ?" 
 
 "Most important news, sir; exclusively in the columns of the 
 Bristol Telegraph; the gentleman has just arrived " 
 
 " Who, pray ? What gentleman ?" 
 
 " Mr. Free, sir, No. 13 — large bedroom — blue damask — supper for 
 two — oysters — a devil — brandy-and-water — mulled port." 
 
 " What the devil do you mean ? Is the fellow at supper ?" 
 
 Somewhat shocked by the tone I ventured to assume towards the 
 illustrious narrator, the waiter merely bowed his reply. 
 
 "Show me to his room," said I ; " I should like to see him." 
 
 " Follow me, if you please, sir — this way — what name shall I say, 
 sir?" 
 
 " You need not mind announcing me — I'm an old acquaintance — 
 just show me the room." 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir, but Mr. Meekins, the editor of the Telegraph, 
 is engaged with him at present ; and positive orders are given not 
 to suffer any interruption." 
 
 " No matter : do as I bid you. Is that it? Oh ! I hear his voice. 
 There, that will do. You may go down stairs, I'll introduce my- 
 self." 
 
 So saying, and slipping a crown into the waiter's hand, I pro- 
 ceeded cautiously towards the door, and opened it stealthily. My 
 caution was, however, needless ; for a large screen was drawn across 
 this part of the room, completely concealing the door. Closing this 
 behind me, I took my place beneath the shelter of this ambuscade, 
 determined on no account to be perceived by the parties. 
 
628 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Seated in a large arm-chair, a smoking tumbler of mulled port 
 before him, sat my friend Mike, dressed in my full regimentals, 
 even to the helmet, which, unfortunately, however, for the effect, 
 he had put on back foremost ; a short " dudeen " graced his lip, and 
 the trumpet so frequently alluded to lay near him. 
 
 Opposite him sat a short, puny, round-faced little gentleman, 
 with rolling eyes and turned-up nose. Numerous sheets of paper, 
 pens, &c, lay scattered about; and he evinced, by his air and 
 gesture, the most marked and eager attention to Mr. Free's nar- 
 rative, whose frequent interruptions, caused by the drink and 
 the oysters, were viewed with no small impatience by the anxious 
 editor. 
 
 "You must remember, Captain, time's passing; the placards are 
 all out ; must be at press before one o'clock to-night ; the morning 
 edition is everything with us. You were at the first parallel, I 
 think." 
 
 " Devil a one o' me knows. Just ring that bell near you. Them's 
 elegant oysters ; and you're not taking your drop of liquor. Here's 
 
 a toast for you: 'May ' whoop — raal Carlingfords, upon my 
 
 conscience. See, now, if I won't hit the little black chap up there, 
 the first shot." 
 
 Scarcely were the words spoken, when a little painted bust of 
 Shakspeare fell in fragments on the floor as an oyster-shell laid him 
 low. 
 
 A faint effort at a laugh at the eccentricities of his friend was 
 all the poor editor could accomplish, while Mike's triumph knew 
 no bounds. 
 
 "Didn't I tell you? But come now, are you ready? Give the 
 pen a drink, if you won't take one yourself." 
 
 " I'm ready, quite ready," responded the editor. 
 
 "Faith, and it's more nor I am. See now, here it is : The night 
 was murthering dark ; you could not see a stim." 
 
 "Not see a — a what?" 
 
 "A stim, bad luck to you; don't you know English? Hand me 
 the hot water. Have you that down yet?" 
 
 " Yes. Pray proceed." 
 
 "The 5th division was orthered up, bekase they were fighting 
 
 chaps; the 88th was among them; the Eangers Oh! upon my 
 
 soul, we must drink to the Rangers. Here, devil a one o' me will 
 go on till we give them all the honors— hip — begin." 
 
 " Hip," sighed the luckless editor, as he rose from his chair, obe- 
 dient to the command. 
 
 " Hurra— hurra— hurra ! Well done ! there's stuff in you yet, ould 
 foolscap ! The little bottle's empty— ring again, if ye plaze." 
 
THE BELL A T BRISTOL. 629 
 
 " Oh, Father Magan 
 
 Was a beautiful man, 
 But a bit of a rogue, a bit of a rogue, 
 
 He was just six feet high, 
 
 Had a cast in his eye, 
 And an illigant brogue, an illigant brogue. 
 
 " He was born in Killarney, 
 And reared up in Blarney " 
 
 "Arrah, don't be looking miserable and dissolute that way. Sure 
 I'm only screwing myself up for you ; besides, you can print the 
 song av you like : it's a sweet tune — i Teddy, ye Gander.' " 
 
 " Really, Mr. Free, I see no prospect of our ever getting done," 
 
 " The saints in heaven forbid," interrupted Mike, piously ; " the 
 evening's young, and drink plenty. Here now, make ready !" 
 
 The editor once more made a gesture of preparation. 
 
 " Well, as I was saying," resumed Mike, " it was pitch dark when 
 the columns moved up, and a cold, raw night, with a little thin rain 
 falling. Have you that down ?" 
 
 " Yes. Pray go on." 
 
 " Well, just as it might be here, at the corner of the trench I met 
 Dr. Quill. ' They're waiting for you, Mr. Free,' says he, • down 
 there. Picton's asking for you.' ■* Faith and he must wait,' says I, 
 1 for I'm terrible dry.' With that, he pulled out his canteen and 
 mixed me a little brandy-and-water. ' Are you taking it without a 
 toast ?' says Dr. Maurice. ' Never fear, Doctor,' says I ; ' here's Mary 
 Brady ' " 
 
 " But, my dear sir," interposed Mr. Meekins, " pray do remember 
 this is somewhat irrelevant. In fifteen minutes it will be twelve 
 o'clock." 
 
 " I know it, ould boy, I know it. I see what you're at. You were 
 going to observe how much better we'd be for a broiled bone." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind, I assure you. For Heaven's sake, no more 
 eating and drinking." 
 
 " No more eating nor drinking ! Why not ? You've a nice notion 
 of a convivial evening. Faith, we'll have the broiled bone sure 
 enough, and, what's more, a half-gallon of the strongest punch they 
 can make us ; an' I hope that, grave as you are, you'll favor the 
 company with a song." 
 
 "Really, Mr. Free " 
 
 " Arrah ! none of your blarney. Don't be misthering me. Call me 
 Mickey, or Mickey Free, if you like better." 
 
 " I protest," said the editor, with dismay, " that here we are two 
 hours at work, and we haven't got to the foot of the great breach." 
 
 " And wasn't the army three months and a half in just getting that 
 far, with a battering train, and mortars, and the finest troops ever 
 
630 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 were seen ? and there you sit, a little fat creature, with your pen in 
 your hand, grumbling that you can't do more than the whole British 
 army. Take care you don't provoke me to beat you ; for I am quiet 
 till I'm roused. But, by the Eock o' Cashel " 
 
 Here he grasped the brass trumpet with an energy that made the 
 editor spring from his chair. 
 
 " For mercy's sake, Mr. Free " 
 
 " Well, I won't ; but sit down there, and don't be bothering me 
 about sieges, and battles, and things you know nothing about." 
 
 " I protest," rejoined Mr. Meekins, "that, had you not sent to my 
 office intimating your wish to communicate an account of the siege, 
 I never should have thought of intruding myself upon you. And 
 now, since you appear indisposed to afford the information in ques- 
 tion, if you will permit me, I'll wish you a very good-night." 
 
 " Faith, and so you shall, and help me to pass one too ; for not a 
 step out o' that chair shall you take till morning. Do ye think I am 
 going to be left here by myself, all alone ?" 
 
 " I must observe " said Mr. Meekins. 
 
 " To be sure, to be sure," said Mickey ; " I see what you mean. 
 You're not the best of company, it's true ; but at a pinch like this 
 There now, take your liquor." 
 
 " Once for all, sir," said the editor, " I would beg you to recollect 
 that, on the faith of your message to me, I have announced an ac- 
 count of the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo for our morning edition. 
 Are you prepared, may I ask, for the consequences of my disappoint- 
 ing ten thousand readers ?" 
 
 " It's little I care for one of them. I never knew much of reading 
 myself." 
 
 " If you think to make a jest of me " interposed Mr. Meekins, 
 
 reddening with passion. 
 
 " A jest of you ! Troth it's little fun I can get out of you ; you're 
 as tiresome a crayture as ever I spent an evening with. See now, 
 I told you before not to provoke me. We'll have a little more 
 drink; ring the bell: who knows but you'll turn out better by- 
 and-by ?" 
 
 As Mike rose at these words to summon the waiter, Mr. Meekins 
 seized the opportunity to make his escape. Scarcely had he reached 
 the door, however, when he was perceived by Mickey, who hurled 
 the trumpet at him with all his force, while he uttered a shout that 
 nearly left the poor editor lifeless with terror. This time, happily, 
 Mr. Free's aim failed him, and before he could arrest the progress of 
 his victim, he had gained the corridor, and with one bound cleared 
 the first flight of the staircase, his pace increasing every moment as 
 Mike's denunciations grew louder and louder, till at last, as he 
 
IRELAND. 631 
 
 reached the street, Mr. Free's delight overcame his indignation, and 
 he threw himself upon a chair and laughed immoderately. 
 
 " Oh, may I never ! if I didn't frighten the editor. The little 
 spalpeen, couldn't eat his oysters and take his punch like a man. 
 But sure if he didn't, there's more left for his betters." So saying, 
 he filled himself a goblet and drank it off. " Mr. Free, we won't say 
 much for your inclinations, for maybe they are not the best ; but 
 here's bad luck to the fellow that doesn't think you good company ; 
 and here," added he, again filling his glass — " and here's may the 
 devil take editors, and authors, and compositors, that won't let us 
 alone, but must be taking our lives, and our songs, and our little 
 devilments, that belongs to one's own family, and tell them all over 
 the world. A lazy set of thieves you are, every one of you ; spend- 
 ing your time inventing lies — devil a more nor less ; and here" — this 
 time he filled again — " and here's a hot corner and Kilkenny coals, 
 that's half sulphur, to the villain " 
 
 For what particular class of offenders Mike's penal code was now 
 devised, I was not destined to learn ; for, overcome by punch and 
 indignation, he gave one loud whoop, and measured his length upon 
 the floor. Having committed him to the care of the waiters, from 
 whom I learned more fully the particulars of his acquaintance with 
 Mr. Meekins, I enjoined them strictly not to mention that I knew 
 anything of the matter. I then betook myself to my bed, sincerely 
 rejoicing that in a few hours more Mike would be again in that 
 land where even his eccentricities and excesses would be viewed 
 with a favorable and forgiving eye. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 ON the second evening after our departure from Bristol, the 
 Skipper said to Mickey Free, " You'd better call your master 
 up ; he said he'd like to have a look at the coast." 
 The words were overheard by me, as I lay between sleeping and 
 waking in the cabin of the packet, and without waiting for a second 
 invitation, I rushed upon deck. The sun was setting, and one vast 
 surface of yellow golden light played upon the water, as it rippled 
 beneath a gentle gale. The white foam curled at our prow, and the 
 rushing sound told the speed we were going at. The little craft was 
 
632 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 staggering under every sheet of her canvas, and her spars creaked as 
 her white sails bent before the breeze. Before us, but to my lands- 
 man's eyes scarcely perceptible, were the ill-defined outlines of 
 cloudy darkness they called land, at which 1 continued to gaze with 
 a strange sense of interest, while I heard the names of certain well- 
 known headlands assigned to apparently mere masses of fog-bank 
 and vapor. 
 
 He who has never been separated in early years, while yet the 
 budding affections of his heart are tender shoots, from the land of 
 his birth and of his home, knows nothing of the throng of sensations 
 that crowd upon him as he nears the shore of his country. The 
 names, familiar as household words, come with a train of long- 
 buried thoughts ; the feeling of attachment to all we call our own 
 — that patriotism of the heart — stirs strongly within him, as the 
 mingled thrills of hope and fear alternately move him to joy or sad- 
 ness. 
 
 Hard as are the worldly struggles between the daily cares of him 
 who carves out his own career and fortune, yet he has never expe- 
 rienced the darkest poverty of fate who has not felt what it is to be 
 a wanderer, without a country to lay claim to. Of all the desolations 
 that visit us, this is the gloomiest and the worst. The outcast from 
 the land of his fathers, whose voice must never be heard within 
 the walls where his infancy was nurtured, nor his step be free upon 
 the mountains where he gambolled in his youth, — this is indeed 
 wretchedness. The instinct of country grows and strengthens with 
 our years ; the joys of early life are linked with it ; the hopes of age 
 point towards it ; and he who knows not the thrill of ecstasy some 
 well-remembered, long-lost-sight-of place can bring to his heart when 
 returning after years of absence, is ignorant of one of the purest 
 sources of happiness of our nature. 
 
 With what a yearning of the heart, then, did I look upon the dim 
 and misty cliffs, that mighty framework of my island home, their 
 stern sides lashed by the blue waters of the ocean, and their sum- 
 mits lost within the clouds ! With what an easy and natural tran- 
 sition did my mind turn from the wild mountains and the green 
 valleys to their hardy sons, who toiled beneath the burning sun of 
 the Peninsula ! and how, as some twinkling light of the distant 
 shore would catch my eye, did I wonder within myself whether 
 beside that hearth and board there might not sit some whose 
 thoughts were wandering over the sea beside the bold steeps of El 
 Bodon, or the death-strewn plain of Talavera ! their memories call- 
 ing up some trait of him who was the idol of his home ; whose clos- 
 ing lids some fond mother had watched over ; above whose peaceful 
 slumber her prayers had fallen, but whose narrow bed was now 
 
IRELAND. 633 
 
 beneath the breach of Badajos, and his sleep the sleep that knows 
 no waking. 
 
 I knew not if in my sad and sorrowing spirit I did not envy him 
 who thus had met a soldier's fate — for what of promise had my 
 own ! My hope of being in any way instrumental to my poor uncle's 
 happiness grew hourly less. His prejudices were deeply rooted and 
 of long standing. To have asked him to surrender any of what he 
 looked upon as the prerogatives of his house and name, would be to 
 risk the loss of his esteem. What then remained for me ? Was I to 
 watch, day by day and hour by hour, the falling ruin of our for- 
 tunes ? Was I to involve myself in the petty warfare of unavailing 
 resistance to the law ? And could I stand aloof from my best, my 
 truest, my earliest friend, and see him, alone and unaided, oppose 
 his weak and final struggle to the unrelenting career of persecution? 
 Between these two alternatives, the former could be my only choice; 
 and what a choice ! 
 
 Oh, how I thought over the wild heroism of the battle-field, the 
 reckless fury of the charge, the crash, the death-cry, and the sad 
 picture of the morrow, when all was past, and a soldier's glory alone 
 remained to shed its high halo over the faults and the follies of the 
 dead. 
 
 As night fell, the twinkling of the distant lighthouses,— some 
 throwing a column of light from the very verge of the horizon, 
 others shining brightly, like stars, from some lofty promontory, — 
 marked the different outlines of the coast, and conveyed to me the 
 memory of that broken and wild mountain tract that forms the bul- 
 wark of the Green Isle against the waves of the Atlantic. Alone 
 and silently I trod the deck, now turning to look towards the shore, 
 where I thought I could detect the position of some well-known 
 headland, now straining my eyes seaward to watch some bright and 
 flitting star, as it rose from or merged beneath the foaming water, 
 denoting the track of the swift pilot-boat, or the hardy lugger of the 
 fisherman, while the shrill whistle of the floating sea-gull was the 
 only sound, save the rushing waves that broke in spray upon our 
 qfuarter. 
 
 What is it that so inevitably inspires sad and depressing thoughts 
 as we walk the deck of some little craft in the silence of the night's 
 dark hours? No sense of danger near, we hold on our course 
 swiftly and steadily, cleaving the dark waves, and bending grace- 
 fully beneath the freshening breeze. Yet still the motion, which, in 
 the bright sunshine of the noonday, tells of joy and gladness, brings 
 now no touch of pleasure to our hearts. The dark and frowning 
 sky, the boundless expanse of gloomy water, spread like some 
 gigantic pall around us, and our thoughts either turn back upon the 
 
634 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 saddest features of the past, or look forward to the future with a 
 sickly hope that all may not be as we fear it. 
 
 Mine were indeed of the gloomiest, and the selfishness alone of 
 the thought prevented me from wishing that, like many another, I 
 had fallen by a soldier's death on the plains of the Peninsula ! 
 
 As the night wore on, I wrapped myself in my cloak and lay 
 down beneath the bulwark. The whole of my past life came in 
 review before me. I thought over my first meeting with Lucy 
 Dashwood ; the thrill of boyish admiration gliding into love — the 
 hopes, the fears, that stirred my heart ; the firm resolve to merit her 
 affection, which made me a soldier. Alas ! how little thought she 
 of him to whose life she had been a guide-star and a beacon ! As 
 I thought over the hard-fought fields, the long, fatiguing marches, 
 the nights around the watch-fires, and felt how, in the whirl and 
 enthusiasm of a soldier's life, the cares and sorrows of every-day 
 existence are forgotten, I shuddered to reflect upon the career that 
 might now open before me, — to abandon, perhaps forever, the glo- 
 rious path I had been pursuing for a life of indolence and weari- 
 ness, while my name, that had already, by the chance of some for- 
 tunate circumstances, begun to be mentioned with a testimony of 
 approval, should be lost in oblivion, or remembered but as that of 
 one whose early promise was not borne out by the deeds of his 
 manhood. 
 
 As day broke, overcome by watching, I slept, but was soon awoke 
 by the stir and bustle around me. The breeze had freshened, and 
 we were running under a reefed mainsail and foresail ; and as the 
 little craft bounded above the blue water, the white foam crested 
 above her prow, and ran along in boiling rivulets towards the after- 
 deck. The tramp of the seamen, the hoarse voice of the captain, 
 the shrill cry of the sea-birds, betokened, however, nothing of dread 
 or danger ; listlessly I leant upon my elbow, and asked what was 
 going forward. 
 
 " Nothing, sir ; only making ready to drop our anchor." 
 
 " Are we so near shore, then ?" said I. 
 
 " You've only to round that point to windward, and have a clear 
 run into Cork harbor." 
 
 I sprang at once to my legs ; the land-fog prevented my seeing 
 anything whatever, but I thought that in the breeze, fresh and 
 balmy as it blew, I could feel the wind off shore. 
 
 " At last," said I — " at last !" as I stepped into the little wherry 
 which shot alongside of us, and we glided into the still basin of 
 Cove. How I remember every white-walled cottage, and the beet- 
 ling cliffs, and that bold headland beside which the valley opens, 
 with its dark green woods ; and then Spike Island. And what a stir 
 
IRELAND. 635 
 
 is yonder, early as it is. The men-of-war tenders seem alive with 
 people, while still the little village is sunk in slumbers, not a smoke- 
 wreath rising from its silent hearths. Every plash of the oars in 
 the calm water, as I neared the land, every chance word of the 
 bronzed and hardy fishermen, told upon my heart. I felt it was my 
 home. 
 
 "Isn't it beautiful, sir? — isn't it illigant?" said a voice behind 
 me, which there could be little doubt in my detecting, although I 
 had not seen the individual since I left England. 
 
 " Is not what beautiful ?" replied I, rather harshly, at the inter- 
 ruption of my own thoughts. 
 
 " Ireland, to be sure ; and long life to her !" cried he with a 
 cheer, that soon found its responsive echoes in the hearts of our 
 sailors, who seconded the sentiment with all their energy. 
 
 " How am I to get up to Cork, lads ?" said I. " I am pressed for 
 time, and must get forward." 
 
 " We'll row your honor the whole way, av it's plazin' to you." 
 
 " Why, thank you ; I'd rather find some quicker mode of pro- 
 ceeding." 
 
 "Maybe you'd have a chaise, sir; there's an illigant one at 
 M'Cassidy's." 
 
 " Sure the blind mare's in foal," said the bow oar ; "the divil a step 
 she can go out of a walk ; so, your honor, take Tim Biley's car, and 
 you'll get up cheap. Not that you care for money ; but he's going 
 up at eight o'clock with two young ladies." 
 
 " Oh ! be-gorra," said the other, " and so he is ; and faix he might 
 do worse — they're nice craytures." 
 
 "Well," said I, "your advice seems good; but perhaps they 
 might object to my company." 
 
 " I've no fear ; they're always with the officers. Sure the Miss 
 Dalrymples " 
 
 " The Miss Dalrymples !— Push ahead, boys ; it must be later 
 than I thought ; we must get the chaise ; I can't wait." 
 
 Ten minutes more brought us to land. 
 
 My arrangements were soon made, and as my impatience to press 
 forward became greater the nearer I drew to my destination, I lost 
 not a moment. 
 
 The yellow chaise — sole glory of Cove — was brought forth at my 
 request ; and, by good fortune, four posters which had been down 
 the preceding evening from Cork to some gentleman's seat near 
 were about to return. These were also pressed into my service ; and 
 just as the first early riser of the little village was drawing his cur- 
 tain to take a half-closed eye glance upon the breaking morning, 
 
636 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 I rattled forth upon my journey at a pace which, could I only 
 have secured its continuance, must soon have terminated my weary 
 way. 
 
 Beautiful as the whole line of country is, I was totally uncon- 
 scious of it ; and even Mike's conversational powers, divided as 
 they were between myself and the two ppstilions, were fruitless in 
 arousing me from*the deep preoccupation of my mind by thoughts 
 of home. 
 
 It was, then, with some astonishment I heard the boy upon the 
 wheeler ask whither he should drive me to. 
 
 " Tell his honor to wake up, we're in Cork now." 
 " In Cork ! impossible already." 
 " Faith, maybe so — but it's Cork sure enough." 
 " Drive to the ' George f it's not far from the Commander-in- 
 Chiefs quarters." 
 
 " "lis five minutes' walk, sir ; you'll be there before they're put to 
 again." 
 
 " Horses for Fermoy !" shouted out the postilions, as we tore up 
 to the door in a gallop. I sprang out, and, by the assistance of the 
 waiter, discovered Sir Henry Howard's quarters, to whom my des- 
 patches were addressed. Having delivered them into the hands of 
 an aide-de-camp, who sat bolt upright in his bed, rubbing his eyes 
 to appear awake, I again hurried down stairs, and throwing myself 
 into the chaise, continued my journey. 
 
 " Them's beautiful streets anyhow !" said Mike, " av they wasn't 
 kept so dirty, and the houses so dark, and the pavement bad. That's 
 Mr. Beamish's — that fine house there, with the brass rapper and the 
 green lamp beside it : and there's the hospital ; faix ! and there's 
 the place we beat the police, when I was here before ; and the house 
 with the sign of the Highlander is thrown down — and what's the 
 big building with the stone posts at the door ?" 
 
 " The bank, sir," said the postilion, with a most deferential air, as 
 Mike addressed him. 
 "What bank, acushla?" 
 
 " Not a one of me knows, sir ; but they call it the bank, though 
 it's only an empty house." 
 
 " Cary and Moore's Bank, perhaps ?" said I, having heard that 
 in days long past some such names had failed in Cork for a large 
 amount. 
 
 " So it is ; your honor's right," cried the postilion ; while Mike, 
 standing up on the box, and menacing the house with his clenched 
 fist, shouted out at the very top of his voice, — 
 
 " Oh, bad luck to your cobwebbed windows and iron railings ! 
 sure it's my father's son ought to hate the sight of you." 
 
IRELAND. 637 
 
 " I hope your father never trusted his property in such hands?" 
 
 " I don't suspect he did, your honor ; he never put much belief in 
 the banks ; but the house cost him dear enough without that." 
 
 As I could not help feeling some curiosity in this matter, I pressed 
 Mickey for an explanation. 
 
 " But maybe it's not Cary and Moore's, after all ; and I'm maybe 
 cursing dacent people." 
 
 Having reassured his mind, by telling him that the reservation he 
 made by the doubt would tell in their favor should he prove mis- 
 taken, he afforded me the following information : — 
 
 " When my father — the heavens be his bed ! — was in the - Cork/ 
 they put him one night on guard at that same big house you just 
 passed — av it was the same ; but, if it wasn't that, it was another ; 
 and it was a beautiful fine night in August, and the moon up, and 
 plenty of people walking about, and all kinds of fun and devilment 
 going on — drinking and dancing, and everything. 
 
 " Well, my father was stuck up there, with his musket, to walk up 
 and down, and not say, ' God save you kindly,' or the time of day, 
 or anything, but just march as if he was in the barrack-yard ; and 
 by reason of his being the man he was, he didn't like it half, but 
 kept cursing and swearing to himself like mad when he saw pleas- 
 ant fellows and pretty girls going by, laughing and joking. 
 
 " ' Good-evening, Mickey,' Says one ; ■ fine sport ye have all to 
 yourself, with your long feather in your cap.' 
 
 " 'Arrah, look how proud he is,' says another, * with his head up 
 as if he didn't see a body.' 
 
 " ' Shoulder hoo !' cried a drunken chap, with a shovel in his hand. 
 They all began laughing away at my father. 
 
 " ' Let the dacent man alone,' said an ould fellow in a wig ; ' isn't 
 he guarding the bank, wid all the money in it?' 
 
 " ' Faix he isn't,' says another, ' for there's none left.' 
 
 " ' What's that you're saying?' says my father. 
 
 " ' Just that the bank's broke, devil a more,' says he. 
 
 " 'And there's no goold in it V says my father. 
 
 " ' Divil a guinea.' 
 
 " ' Nor silver ?' 
 
 " ' No, nor silver, nor as much as sixpence, either.' 
 
 " ' Didn't ye hear that all day yesterday, when the people was 
 coming in with their notes, the chaps there were heating the guineas 
 in a frying-pan, pretending that they were making them as fast as 
 they could 5 and sure, when they had a batch red-hot they spread 
 them out to cool ; and what between the heating and the cooling, 
 and the burning the fingers counting them, they kept the bank open 
 to three o'clock, and then they ran away.' 
 
638 CHARLES 0> MALLET. 
 
 " ' Is it truth yer telling ?' says my father. 
 
 "'Sorra word o' lie in it! myself had two-and-fourpence of their 
 notes.' 
 
 " 'And so they're broke,' says my father, ? and nothing left ?' 
 
 " • Not a brass farden.' 
 
 u 'And what am I staying here for, I wonder, if there's nothing to 
 guard ?' 
 
 " • Faix, if it isn't for the pride of the thing ' 
 
 " ' Oh, sorra taste.' 
 
 " ' Well, maybe for divarsion.' 
 
 " ' Nor that either.' 
 
 " ' Faix ! then, you're a droll man, to spend the evening that way,' 
 says he ; and all the crowd — for there was a crowd — said the same. 
 So with that my father unscrewed his bayonet, and put his piece on 
 his shoulder, and walked off to his bed in the barrack as peaceable 
 as need be. But well, when they came to relieve him, wasn't there 
 a raal commotion ? and faith, you see, it went mighty hard with my 
 father the next morning ; for the bank was open just as usual, and 
 my father was sintinced to fifty lashes, but got off with a week in 
 prison, and three more rowling a big stone in the barrack-yard." 
 
 Thus chatting away, the time passed over, until we arrived at 
 Fermoy. Here there was some little delay in procuring horses ; and 
 during the negotiation, Mike, who usually made himself master of 
 the circumstances of every place through which he passed, discov- 
 ered that the grocer's shop of the village was kept by a namesake, 
 and possibly a relation of his own. 
 
 " I always had a notion, Mr. Charles, that I came from a good 
 stock ; and sure enough, here's ' Mary Free' over the door there, and 
 a beautiful place inside ; full of tay and sugar, and gingerbread, and 
 glue, and coffee, and bran, pickled herrings, soap, and many other 
 commodities." 
 
 " Perhaps you'd like to claim kindred, Mike," said I, interrupt- 
 ing ; " I'm sure she'd feel flattered to discover a relative in a Penin- 
 sular hero." 
 
 "It's just what I'm thinking; av we were going to pass the 
 evening here, I'd try if I couldn't make her out a second cousin at 
 least." 
 
 Fortune upon this occasion seconded Mike's wishes, for when the 
 horses made their appearance, I learned to my surprise that the near 
 side one would not bear a saddle, and the off-sider could only run on 
 his own side. In this conjuncture, the postilion was obliged to drive 
 from what, Hibernicl speaking, is called the perch — no ill-applied 
 denomination to a piece of wood which, about the thickness of one's 
 arm, is hung between the two fore-springs, and serves as a resting- 
 
IRELAND. 639 
 
 place, in which the luckless wight, weary of the saddle, is not sorry 
 to repose himself. 
 
 " What's to be done ?" cried I. " There's no room within ; my 
 traps barely leave space for myself amongst them." 
 
 "Sure, sir," said the postilion, "the other gentleman can follow 
 in the morning coach ; and if any accident happens to yourself 
 on the road, by reason of a breakdown, he'll be there as soon as 
 yourself." 
 
 This, at least, was an agreeable suggestion, and, as I saw it 
 chimed with Mike's notions, I acceded at once ; he came running 
 up at the moment. 
 
 " I had a peep at her through the window, Mister Charles, and, 
 faix, she has a great look of the family." 
 
 " Well, Mickey, I'll leave you twenty-four hours to cultivate the 
 acquaintance; and to a man like you, I know the time is ample. 
 Follow me by the morning's coach. Till then, good-bye." 
 
 Away we rattled once more, and soon left the town behind us. 
 The wild mountain tract which stretched on either side of the road 
 presented one bleak and brown surface, unrelieved by any trace of 
 tillage or habitation ; an apparently endless succession of fern-clad 
 hills lay on every side ; above, the gloomy sky of leaden, louring 
 aspect frowned darkly ; the sad and wailing cry of the pewit or the 
 plover was the only sound that broke the stillness, and far as the 
 eye could reach, a dreary waste extended. The air, too, was cold 
 and chilly ; it was one of those days which, in our springs, seemed 
 to cast a retrospective glance towards the winter they have left be- 
 hind them. The prospect was no cheering one ; from heaven above 
 or earth below there came no sight nor sound of gladness. The rich 
 glow of the Peninsular landscape was still fresh in my memory — 
 the luxurious verdure — the olive, the citron, and the vine — the fair 
 valleys teeming with abundance— the mountains terraced with their 
 vineyards — the blue transparent sky spreading o'er all— while the 
 very air was rife with the cheering song of birds that peopled every 
 grove. What a contrast was here ! We travelled on for miles, but 
 no village nor one human face did we see. Far in the distance a 
 thin wreath of smoke curled upward ; but it came from no hearth ; 
 it arose from one of those field-fires by which spendthrift husbandry 
 cultivates the ground. It was indeed sad ; and yet, I know not how, 
 it spoke more home to my heart than all the brilliant display and 
 all the voluptuous splendor I had witnessed in London. By degrees 
 some traces of wood made their appearance, and, as we descended 
 the mountain towards Cahir, the country assumed a more cultivated 
 and cheerful look ; patches of corn or of meadow-land stretched on 
 either side, and the voice of children, and the lowing of oxen, min- 
 
640 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 gled with the cawing of the rooks, as in dense clouds they followed 
 the ploughman's track. The changed features of the prospect re- 
 sembled the alternate phases of temperament of the dweller in the 
 soil — the gloomy determination — the smiling carelessness — the dark 
 spirit of boding — the recklessjollity — the almost savage ferocity of 
 purpose, followed by a child-like docility and a womanly softness — 
 the grave, the gay, the resolute, the fickle — the firm, the yielding, 
 the unsparing, and the tender-hearted, blending their contrarieties 
 into one nature, of whose capabilities one cannot predicate the 
 bounds, but to whom, by some luckless fatality of fortune, the great 
 rewards of life have been generally withheld, until one begins to 
 feel that the curse of Swift was less the sarcasm wrung from indig- 
 nant failures than the cold and stern prophecy of the moralist. 
 
 But how have I fallen into this strain ? Let me rather turn my 
 eyes forward towards my home. How shall I find all there ? Have 
 his altered fortunes damped the warm ardor of my poor uncle's 
 heart? Is his smile sicklied over by sorrow? Or shall I hear his 
 merry laugh, and his cheerful voice, as in days of yore? How I 
 longed to take my place beside that hearth, and, in the same oak- 
 chair where I have sat telling the bold adventures of a fox-chase 
 or some long day upon the moors, speak of the scenes of my cam- 
 paigning life, and make known to him those gallant fellows by 
 whose side I have charged in battle or sat in the bivouac ! How 
 will he glory in the soldier-like spirit and daring energy of Fred 
 Power ! How will he chuckle over the blundering earnestness and 
 Irish warmth of O'Shaughnessy ! How will he laugh at the quaint 
 stories and quainter jests of Maurice Quill ! And how often will 
 he wish once more to be young in hand as in heart to mingle with 
 such gay fellows, with no other care, no other sorrow to depress him, 
 save the passing fortune of a soldier's life ! 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV, 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 1 1 J HILE lying asleep in the corner of the chaise, a rude shock 
 V V awoke me ; a shout followed, and the next moment the door 
 
 * * was torn open, and I heard the postilion's voice crying : 
 
 "Spring out! jump out quickly, sir!" 
 
 A whole battery of kicks upon the front panel drowned the rest 
 of his speech ; but before I could obey his injunction, he was pitched 
 
THE RETURN. 641 
 
 upon the road, the chaise rolled over, and the pole snapped short in 
 the middle, while the two horses belabored the carriage and each 
 other with all their might. Managing as well as I was able to ex- 
 tricate myself, I leaped out upon the road, and by the aid of a knife, 
 and at the cost of some bruises, succeeded in freeing the horses from 
 their tackle. The postboy, who had escaped without any serious 
 injury, labored manfully to aid me, blubbering the whole time 
 upon the consequences his misfortune would bring down upon his 
 head. 
 
 " Bad luck to ye !" cried he, apostrophizing the off-horse, a tall, 
 raw-boned beast, with a Roman nose, a dipped back, and a tail 
 ragged and jagged like a hand-saw. " Bad luck to ye ! there never 
 was a good one of your color !" 
 
 This, for the information of the "unjockeyed," I may add, was a 
 species of brindled gray. 
 
 " How did it happen, Patsey — how did it happen, my lad ?" 
 
 " It was the heap o' stones they left in the road since last autumn ; 
 and though I riz him at it fairly, he dragged the ould mare over it 
 and broke the pole. Oh, wirra, wirra !" cried he, wringing his hands 
 in an agony of grief, " sure there's neither luck nor grace to be had 
 with ye since the day ye drew the judge down to the last assizes !" 
 
 " Well ! what's to be done ?" 
 
 "Sorra a bit o' me knows ; the shay's ruined intirely, and the old 
 devil there knows he's conquered us. Look at him there, listening 
 to every word we're saying! You eternal thief! maybe its plough- 
 ing you'd like better." 
 
 " Come, come," said I, " this will never get us forward. What 
 part of the country are we in ?" 
 
 " We left Banagher about four miles behind us ; that's Killimur 
 you see with the smoke there in the hollow." 
 
 Now, although I did not see Killimur (for the gray mist of the 
 morning prevented me recognizing any object a few hundred yards 
 distant), yet, from the direction in which he pointed, and from the 
 course of the Shannon, which I could trace indistinctly, I obtained 
 a pretty accurate notion of where we were. 
 
 "Then, we are not very far from Portumna?" 
 
 " Just a pleasant walk before your breakfast." ' } 
 
 "And is there not a short cut to O'Malley Castle over that moun- 
 tain?" 
 
 " Faix and so there is ; and ye can be no stranger to these parts 
 if ye know that." 
 
 "I have travelled it before now. Just tell me, is the wooden 
 bridge standing over the little stream ? It used to be carried away 
 every winter, in my time." 
 41 
 
642 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " It's just the same now. You'll have to pass by the upper ford ; 
 but it comes to the same, for that will bring you to the back gate 
 of the demesne, and one way is just as short as the other." 
 
 " I know it, I know it ; so now, do you follow me with my lug- 
 gage to the castle, and I'll set out on foot." 
 
 So saying, I threw off my cloak, and prepared myself for a sharp 
 walk of some eight miles over the mountain. As I reached the little 
 knoll of land, which, overlooking the Shannon, affords a view of 
 several miles in every direction, I stopped to gaze upon the scene, 
 where every object around was familiar to me from infancy. The 
 broad, majestic river, sweeping in bold curves between the wild 
 mountains of Connaught and the wooded hills and cultivated slopes 
 of the more fertile Munster — the tall chimneys of many a house rose 
 above the dense woods, where in my boyhood I had spent hours and 
 days of happiness. One last look I turned towards the scene of my 
 late catastrophe, ere I began to descend the mountain. The post- 
 boy, with the happy fatalism of his country, and a firm trust in the 
 future, had established himself in the interior of the chaise, from 
 which a blue curl of smoke wreathed upward from his pipe; the 
 horses grazed contentedly by the roadside, and were I to judge from 
 the evidence before me, I should say that I was the only member of 
 the party inconvenienced by the accident. A thin sleeting of rain 
 began to fall, the wind blew sharply in my face, and the dark clouds, 
 collecting in masses above, seemed to threaten a storm. Without 
 stopping for even a passing look at the many well-known spots 
 about, I pressed rapidly on. My old experience upon the moors 
 had taught me that sling trot in which, jumping from hillock to 
 hillock, over the boggy surface, you succeed in accomplishing your 
 journey not only with considerable speed, but perfectly dryshod. 
 
 By the lonely path which I travelled, it was unlikely I should 
 meet any one ; it was rarely traversed except by the foot of the 
 sportsman, or some stray messenger from the castle to the town of 
 Banagher. Its solitude, however, was in nowise distasteful to me ; 
 my heart was full to bursting. Each moment as I walked, some new 
 feature of my home presented itself before me. Now, it was all 
 happiness and cornfort j the scene of its ancient hospitable board, 
 its warm hearth, its happy faces, and its ready welcome, were all 
 before me, and I increased my speed to the utmost, when suddenly 
 a sense of sad and sorrowing foreboding would draw around me, and 
 the image of my uncle's sick bed, his worn features, his pallid look, 
 his broken voice, would strike upon my heart, and all the changes 
 that poverty, desertion, and decay can bring to pass, would fall upon 
 my heart, and, weak and trembling, I would stand for some moments 
 unable to proceed. 
 
THE RETURN. 643 
 
 Oh ! how many a reproachful thought came home to me at what 
 I scrupled not to call to myself the desertion of my home. Oh ! how 
 nmny a prayer I uttered, in all the fervor of devotion, that my selfish 
 waywardness, and my yearning for ambition, might not bring upon 
 me in after-life years of unavailing regret ! As I thought thus, I 
 reached the brow of a little mountain ridge, beneath which, at the 
 distance of scarcely more than a mile, the dark woods of O'Malley 
 Castle stretched before me. The house itself was not visible, for it 
 was situated in a valley beside the river ; but there lay the whole 
 scene of my boyhood — there the little creek where my boat was kept, 
 and where I landed on the morning after my duel with Bodkin ; 
 there stretched, for many a mile, the large, callow meadows, where 
 I trained my horses, and schooled them for the coming season ; and 
 far in the distance, the brown and rugged peak of Old Scariff was 
 lost in the clouds. The rain by this time had ceased, the wind had 
 fallen, and an almost unnatural stillness prevailed around. But yet 
 the heavy masses of vapor frowned ominously, and the leaden hue 
 of land and water wore a gloomy and depressing aspect. My impa- 
 tience to get on increased every moment. Descending the mountain 
 at the top of my speed, I at length reached the little oak paling that 
 skirted the wood, opened the little wicket, and entered the path. It 
 was the selfsame one I had trod in reverie and meditation, the night 
 before I left my home. I remember, too, sitting down beside the 
 little well which, enclosed in a frame of rock, ran trickling across 
 the path, to be lost among the gnarled roots and fallen leaves around. 
 Yes, this was the very spot. 
 
 Overcome for the instant by my exertion and my emotion, I sat 
 down upon the stone, and, taking off my cap, bathed my heated and 
 throbbing temples in the cold spring. Refreshed at once, I was 
 about to rise and press onward, when suddenly my attention was 
 caught by a sound which, faint from the distance, scarce struck upon 
 my ear. I listened again, but all was still and silent ; the dull plash 
 of the river, as it broke upon the reedy shore, was the only sound I 
 heard. Thinking it probably some mere delusion of my heated 
 imagination, I rose to push forward ; but at the moment a slight 
 breeze stirred in the leaves around me, the light branches rustled 
 and bent beneath it, and a low, moaning sound swelled upward, in- 
 creasing each instant as it came. Like the distant roar of some 
 mighty torrent, it grew louder as the wind bore it towards me, and 
 now falling, now swelling, it burst forth into one loud prolonged cry 
 of agony and grief. Oh God ! it was the death wail ! I fell upon 
 my knees, my hands clasped in agony ; the sweat of misery dropped 
 off my brow, and with a heart bleeding and breaking, I prayed — I 
 know not what. Again the terrible cry smote upon my ear, and I 
 
644 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 could mark the horrible cadences of the death-song, as the voices of 
 the mourners joined in chorus. 
 
 My suspense became too great to bear, I dashed madly forward, 
 one sound still ringing in my ears, one horrid image before my eyes. 
 I reached the garden-wall ; I cleared the little rivulet beside the 
 flower-garden. I traversed its beds (neglected and decayed), I gained 
 the avenue, taking no heed of the crowds before me — some on foot, 
 some on horseback, others mounted upon the low country car, many 
 seated in groups upon the grass, their heads bowed upon their 
 bosoms, silent and speechless. As I neared the house, the whole 
 approach was crowded with carriages and horsemen ; at the foot of 
 the large flight of steps stood the black and mournful hearse, its 
 plumes nodding in the breeze. With the speed of madness and the 
 recklessness of despair, I tore my way through the thickly-standing 
 groups upon the steps ; I could not speak, I could not utter. Once 
 more the frightful cry swelled upward, and its wild notes seemed to 
 paralyze me ; for, with my hands upon my temples, I stood motion- 
 less and still. A heavy footfall, as of persons marching in proces- 
 sion, came nearer and nearer, and, as the sounds without sank into 
 sobs of bitterness and woe, the black pall of a coffin, borne on men's 
 shoulders, appeared at the door, and an old man, whose gray hair 
 floated in, the breeze, and across whose stern features a struggle for 
 self-mastery — a kind of spasmodic effort — was playing, held out his 
 hand to enforce silence. His eye, lack-lustre and dimmed with age, 
 roved over the assembled multitude, but there was no recognition in 
 his look until at last he turned it on me. A slight hectic flush covered 
 his pale cheek, his lip trembled, he essayed to speak, but could not. 
 I sprang towards him, but, choked by agony, I could not utter ; my 
 look, however, spoke what my tongue could not. He threw his arms 
 around me, and, muttering the words " Poor Godfrey !" pointed to 
 the coffin. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 HOME. 
 
 M 
 
 "ANY years have passed away since the time I am now about 
 to speak of, and yet I cannot revert, even for a moment, to 
 the period without a sad and depressing feeling at my heart. 
 The wreck of fortune, the thwarting of ambition, the failure of 
 enterprise, great though they be, are endurable evils. The never- 
 
HOME. 645 
 
 dying hope that youth is blessed with will find its resting-place still 
 within the breast, and the baffled and beaten will struggle on uncon- 
 quered ; but for the death of friends, for the loss of those in whom 
 our dearest affections were centred, there is no solace; the terrible 
 " never" of the grave knows no remorse, and even memory, that in 
 our saddest hours can bring bright images and smiling faces before 
 us, calls up here only the departed shade of happiness, a passing 
 look at that Eden of our joys from which we are separated forever. 
 And the desolation of the heart is never perfect till it has felt the 
 echoes of a last farewell on earth reverberating within it. 
 
 Oh, with what tortures of self-reproach we think of all former 
 intercourse with him that is gone ! How would we wish to live our 
 lives once more, correcting each passage of unkindness or neglect! 
 How deeply do we blame ourselves for occasions of benefit lost, and 
 opportunities unprofited by ; and how unceasingly, through after- 
 life, the memory of the departed recurs to us ! In all the ties which 
 affection and kindred weave around us, one vacant spot is there, 
 unseen and unknown by others, which no blandishments of love, 
 no caresses of friendship, can fill up. Although the rank grass and 
 the tall weeds of the churchyard may close around the humble 
 tomb, the cemetery of the heart is holy and sacred, pure from all 
 the troubled thoughts and daily cares of the busy world. To that 
 hallowed spot do we retire as into our chamber, and when unre- 
 warded efforts bring discomfiture and misery to our minds, when our 
 friends are false, and cherished hopes are blasted, we think on those 
 who never ceased to love till they had ceased to live ; and in the 
 lonely solitude of our affliction we call upon those who hear not, and 
 may never return. 
 
 ******** 
 
 Mine was a desolate hearth. I sat moodily down in the old oak 
 parlor, my heart bowed down with grief. The noiseless steps, the 
 mourning garments of the old servants, the unnatural silence of 
 those walls within which from my infancy the sounds of merriment 
 and mirth had been familiar, the large old-fashioned chair where he 
 was wont to sit, now placed against the wall, — all spoke of the sad 
 past. Yet when some footsteps would draw near, and the door 
 would open, I could not repress a thrill of hope that he was coming; 
 more than once I rushed to the window and looked out ; I could 
 have sworn I heard his voice. 
 
 The old cob pony he used to ride was grazing peacefully before the 
 door; poor Carlo, his favorite spaniel, lay stretched upon the ter- 
 race, turning ever and anon a look towards the window, and then, 
 as if wearied of watching for him who came not, he would utter a 
 long, low, wailing cry, and lie down again to sleep. The rich lawn, 
 
646 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 decked with field flowers of many a hue, stretched away towards the 
 river, upon whose calm surface the white-sailed lugger scarce seemed 
 to move ; the sounds of a well-known Irish air came, softened by 
 distance, as some poor fisherman sat mending his net upon the bank 
 and the laugh of children floated on the breeze. Yes, they were 
 happy ! 
 
 Two months had elapsed since my return home ; how passed by 
 me I know not ; a lethargic stupor had settled upon me. Whole 
 days long I sat at the window, looking listlessly at the tranquil river 
 and watching the white foam as, borne down from the rapids, it 
 floated lazily along. The Count had left me soon, being called up 
 to Dublin by some business, and I was utterly alone. The different 
 families about called frequently to ask after me, and would, doubt- 
 less, have done all in their power to alleviate my sorrow and lighten 
 the load of my affliction ; but with a morbid fear, I avoided every 
 one, and rarely left the house except at nightfall, and then only to 
 stroll by some lonely and deserted path. 
 
 Life had lost its charm for me ; my gratified ambition had ended 
 in the blackest disappointment, and all for which I had labored and 
 longed was only attained that I might feel it valueless. 
 
 Of my circumstances as to fortune I knew nothing, and cared not 
 more ; poverty and riches could matter little now ; all my day- 
 dreams were dissipated now, and I only waited for Considine's re- 
 turn to leave Ireland forever. I had made up my mind, if, by any 
 unexpected turn of fate, the war should cease in the Peninsula, to 
 exchange into an Indian regiment. The daily association with 
 objects which recalled but one image to my brain, and that ever ac- 
 companied by remorse of conscience, gave me not a moment's peace. 
 My every thought of happiness was mixed up with scenes which 
 now presented nothing but the evidences of blighted hope. To re- 
 main, then, where I was, would be to sink into the heartless misan- 
 thropist, and I resolved that with my sword I would carve out a 
 soldier's fortune and a soldier's grave. 
 
 Considine came at last. I was sitting alone, at my usual post be- 
 side the window, when the chaise rattled up to the door. For an 
 instant I started to my legs ; a vague something like hope shot 
 
 through me ; the whole might be a dream, and he The next 
 
 moment I became cold and sick, a faintish giddiness obscured my 
 sight, and though I felt his grasp as he took my hand, I saw him 
 not. 
 
 An indistinct impressio*n still dwells upon my mind of his chiding 
 me for my weakness in thus giving way ; of his calling upon me to 
 assert my position, and discharge the duties of him whose successor 
 I now was. I heard him in silence, and, when he concluded, faintly 
 
HOME. 647 
 
 pledging myself to obey him, I hurried to my room, and throwing 
 myself upon my bed, burst into an agony of tears. Hitherto my 
 pent-up sorrow had wasted me day by day ; but the rock was now 
 smitten, and in that gush of misery my heart found relief. 
 
 When I appeared the following morning, the Count was struck 
 with my altered looks. A settled sorrow could not conceal the 
 changes which time and manhood had made upon me; and as from 
 a kind of fear of showing how deeply I grieved, I endeavored to con- 
 ceal it, by degrees I was enabled to converse calmly and dispassion- 
 ately upon my fortunes. 
 
 " Poor Godfrey/' said he, " appointed me his sole executor a few 
 days before it happened ; he knew the time was drawing near, and, 
 strange enough, Charley, though he heard of your return to England, 
 he would not let us write. The papers spoke of you as being at 
 Carlton House almost daily ; your name appeared at every great 
 festival ; and, while his heart warmed at your brilliant success, he 
 absolutely dreaded your coming home. ' Poor fellow !'. he would 
 say, ' what a change for him, to leave the splendor and magnificence 
 of his Prince's board for our meagre fare and altered fortunes ! And 
 then/ he added, ' as for me — God forgive me ! I can go now — but 
 how should I bear to part with him if he comes back to me ?' And 
 now," said the Count, when he had concluded a detailed history of 
 my dear uncle's last illness — "and now, Charley, what are your 
 plans ?" 
 
 Briefly, and in a few words, I stated to him my intentions. With- 
 out placing much stress upon the strongest of my reasons — my dis- 
 taste to what had once been home — I avowed my wish to join my 
 regiment at once. 
 
 He heard me with evident impatience, and, as I finished, seized 
 my arm in his strong grasp. " No, no, boy, — none of this ; your 
 tone of assumed composure cannot impose on Bill Considine. You 
 must not return to the Peninsula — at least, not yet awhile ; the dis- 
 gust of life may be strong at twenty, but it's not lasting; besides, 
 Charley," — here his voice faltered slightly — "his wishes you'll not 
 treat lightly. Read this." 
 
 As he spoke, he took a blotted and ill-written letter from his 
 breast-pocket, and handed it to me. It was in my poor uncle's hand, 
 and dated the very morning of his death. It ran thus : 
 
 " Dear Bill: — Charley must never part with the old house, come 
 what will ; I leave too many ties behind for a stranger's heritage ; he 
 must live among my old friends, and watch, protect, and comfort 
 them. He has done enough for fame ; let him now do something 
 for affection. We have none of us been over good to these poor 
 
648 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 people ; one of the name must try and save our credit. God blesg 
 you both ! It is perhaps the last time I shall utter it. 
 
 " G. O'M." 
 
 I read these few and, to me, affecting lines over and over, forget- 
 ful of all save of him who penned them ; when Considine, who sup- 
 posed that my silence was attributable to doubt and hesitation, 
 called out : 
 
 " Well, what now ?" 
 
 " I remain," said I, briefly. 
 
 He seized me in his arms with transport, as he said : 
 
 " I knew it, boy — I knew it. They told me you were spoiled by 
 flattery, and your head turned by fortune ; they said that home and 
 country would weigh lightly in the balance against fame and glory; 
 but I said no, I knew you better. I told them indignantly that I 
 had nursed you on my knee ; that I watched you from infancy to 
 boyhood, from boy to man ; that he of whose stock you came had 
 one feeling paramount to all, his love of his own fatherland, and 
 that you would not disgrace him. Besides, Charley, there's not an 
 humble hearth for many a long mile around us where, amid the 
 winter's blast — tempered, not excluded, by frail walls and poverty — 
 there's not one such but where poor Godfrey's name rises each night 
 in prayer, and blessings are invoked on him by those who never felt 
 them themselves.' , 
 
 " I'll not desert them." 
 
 " I know you'll not, boy— I know you'll not. Now for the means." 
 
 Here he entered into a long and complicated account of my dear 
 uncle's many difficulties, by which it appeared that, in order to leave 
 the estate free of debt to me, he had for years past undergone severe 
 privations. These, however— such is the misfortune of unguided 
 effort— had but ill succeeded ; and there was scarcely a farm on the 
 property without its mortgage, Upon the house and demesne a 
 bond for three thousand pounds still remained ; and to pay off this, 
 Considine advised my selling a portion of the property. 
 
 " It's old Blake lent the money ; and only a week before your 
 uncle died he served a notice for repayment. I never told Godfrey 
 —it was no use ; it could only embitter his last few hours ; and, be- 
 sides, we had six months to think of it. The half of that time has 
 now elapsed, however ; we must see to this." 
 
 "And did Blake really make this demand, knowing my poor 
 uncle's difficulties ?" 
 
 "Why, I half think he did not, for Godfrey was too fine a fellow 
 ever to acknowledge anything of the sort. He had twelve sheep 
 killed for the poor in Scariff, at a time when not a servant of the 
 
HOME. 649 
 
 house tasted meat for months ; ay, and our own table, too, none of 
 the most abundant, I assure you." 
 
 What a picture was this ! and how forcibly did it remind me of 
 what I had witnessed in times past. Thus meditating, we returned 
 to the house ; and Considine, whose activity never slumbered, sat 
 down to con over the rent-roll with old Maguire the steward. 
 
 When I joined the Count in the evening, I found him surrounded 
 by maps, rent-rolls, surveys, and leases. He had been poring over 
 those various documents, to ascertain from which portion of the 
 property we could best recruit our falling finances. To judge 
 from the embarrassed look and manner with which he met me, the 
 matter was one of no small difficulty. The incumbrances upon the 
 estate had been incurred with an unsparing hand; and except 
 where some irreclaimable tract of bog or mountain rendered a loan 
 impracticable, each portion of the property had its share of debt. 
 
 "You can't sell Killantry, for Basset has above six thousand 
 pounds on it already ; to be sure, there's the Priest's Meadows — fine 
 land and in good heart; but Malony was an old tenant of the 
 family, and I cannot recommend your turning him over to a stranger. 
 The Widow M'Bride's farm is perhaps the best, after all, and it 
 would certainly bring the sum we want ; still, poor Mary was your 
 nurse, Charley, and it would break her heart to do it." 
 
 Thus, wherever we turned, some obstacle presented itself, if not 
 from moneyed causes, at least from those ties and associations 
 which, in an attached and faithful tenantry, are sure to grow up 
 between them and the owner of the soil. 
 
 Feeling how all-important these things were — endeavoring as I 
 was to fulfil the will and work out the intentions of my uncle, I saw 
 at once that to sell any portion of the property must separate me, 
 to a certain extent, from those who had long looked up to our house, 
 and who, in the feudalism of the west, could ill withdraw their 
 allegiance from their own chief to swear fealty to a stranger. The 
 richer tenants were those whose industry and habits rendered them 
 objects of worth and attachment ; to the poorer ones, to whose im- 
 providence and whose follies (if you will) their poverty is owing, I 
 was bound by those ties which the ancient habit of my house had 
 contracted for centuries ; the bond of benefit conferred can be 
 stronger than the debt of gratitude itself. What was I then to do? 
 My income would certainly permit of my paying the interest upon 
 the several mortgages, and still retaining wherewithal to live ; the 
 payment of Blake's bond was my only difficulty, and, small as it 
 was, it was still a difficulty. 
 
 " I have it, Charley !" said Considine ; " I've found out the way 
 of doing it. Blake will have no objection, I'm sure, to take the 
 
650 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 widow's farm in payment of his debt, giving you a power of redemp- 
 tion within five years. In that time, what with economy — some 
 management— perhaps," added he, smiling slightly— " perhaps a 
 wife with money, may relieve all your embarrassments at once. Well, 
 well, I know you are not thinking of that just now ; but come, what 
 say you to my plan ?" 
 
 " I know not well what to say. It seems to be the best ; but still 
 I have my misgivings." 
 
 " Of course you have, my boy ; nor could I love you if you'd part 
 with an old and faithful follower without them. But, after all, she 
 is only a hostage to the enemy : we'll win her back, Charley." 
 
 " If you think so " 
 
 "I do. I know it." 
 
 " Well, then, be it so ; only one thing I bargain — she must her- 
 self consent to this change of masters. It will seem to her a harsh 
 measure that the child she had nursed and fondled in her arms 
 should live to disunite her from those her oldest attachments upon 
 earth. We must take care, sir, that Blake cannot dispossess her ; 
 this would be too hard." 
 
 " No, no ; that we'll guard against. And now, Charley, with 
 prudence and caution, we'll clear off every encumbrance, and 
 O'Malley Castle shall yet be what it was in days of yore. Ay, boy ! 
 with the descendant of the old house for its master, and not that 
 general — how do you call him? — who came down here to contest the 
 county, who, with his offer of thirty thousand pounds, thought to 
 uproot the oldest family of the west. Did I ever show you the letter 
 we wrote him ?" 
 
 " No, sir," replied I, trembling with agitation as I spoke ; " you 
 merely alluded to it in one of yours." 
 
 "Look here, lad !"said he, drawing it from the recesses of a black 
 leather pocket-book. " I took a copy of it. Eead that." 
 
 The document was dated " O'Malley Castle, Dec. 9." It ran thus : 
 
 " Sir : — I have this moment learned from my agent that you, or 
 some one empowered by you for the purpose, made an offer of seve- 
 ral thousand pounds to buy up the different mortgages upon my 
 property, with a subsequent intention of becoming its possessor.^ 
 Now, sir, I beg to tell you that if your ungentlemanlike and under- 
 hand plot had succeeded, you dared not darken with your shadow 
 the doorsill of the house you purchased. Neither your gold nor 
 your flattery — and I hear you are rich in both — could wipe out from 
 the minds and hearts of my poor tenantry the kindness of centuries. 
 Be advised, then, sir ; withdraw your offer. Let a Galway gentle- 
 man settle his own difficulties in his own way ; his troubles and 
 
HOME. 651 
 
 cares are quite sufficient, without your adding to them. There can 
 be but one mode in which your interference with him could be 
 deemed acceptable ; need I tell you, sir, who are a soldier, how that 
 is? As I know your official duties are important, and as my 
 nephew — who feels with me perfectly in this business — is abroad, 
 I can only say that failing health and a broken frame shall not pre- 
 vent my undertaking a journey to England, should my doing so 
 meet your wishes on that occasion. 
 
 " I am, sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 Godfrey O'Malley." 
 
 " This letter," continued Considine, " I enclosed in an envelope, 
 with the following few lines of my own : — 
 
 " ' Count Considine presents his compliments to Lieutenant- 
 General Dashwood, and feeling that, as the friend of Mr. Godfrey 
 O'Malley, the mild course pursued by that gentleman may possibly 
 be attributed to his suggestion, he begs to assure General Dashwood 
 that the reverse was the case, and that he strenuously counselled 
 the propriety of laying a horsewhip upon the General's shoulders, 
 as a preliminary step in the transaction. 
 
 " ' Count Considine's address is No. 16 Kildare street.' " 
 
 " Great God !" said I, " is this possible ?" 
 
 " Well may you say so, my boy ; for — would you believe it ? — 
 after all that, he writes a long, blundering apology, protesting I 
 know not what about motives of former friendship, and terminating 
 with a civil hint that we have done with him forever. Of my para- 
 graph he takes no notice ; and thus ends the whole affair." 
 
 * And with it my last hope also !" muttered I to myself. 
 
 That Sir George Dashwood's intentions had been misconstrued 
 and mistaken I knew perfectly well ; that nothing but the accumu- 
 lated evils of poverty and sickness could have induced my poor 
 uncle to write such a letter I was well aware ; but now, the mischief 
 was accomplished, the evil was done, and nothing remained but to 
 bear with patience and submission, and to endeavor to forget what 
 thus became irremediable. 
 
 " Did Sir George Dashwood make no allusion to me, sir, in his 
 reply?" inquired I, catching at anything like a hope. 
 
 " Your name never occurs in his letter. But you look pale, boy ; 
 all these discussions come too early upon you ; besides, you stay too 
 much at home, and take no exercise." 
 
 So saying, Considine bustled off towards the stables, to look after 
 some young horses that had just been taken up ; and I walked out 
 alone, to ponder over what I had heard, and meditate on my plans 
 for the future. 
 
652 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 THE irritation of my spirit gradually subsided as I wandered 
 on. It was, to be sure, distressing to think over the light in 
 which my uncle's letter had placed me before Sir George 
 Dash wood, had even my reputation only with him been at stake ; 
 but with my attachment to his daughter, it was almost maddening. 
 And yet there was nothing to be done ; to disavow my participation 
 would be to throw discredit upon my uncle. Thus were my hopes 
 blighted ; and thus, at that season when life was opening upon me, 
 did I feel careless and indifferent to everything. Had my military 
 career still remained to me, that, at least, would have suggested 
 scenes sufficient to distract me from the past; but now my days 
 must be spent where every spot teemed with memories of bygone 
 happiness and joys never to come back again. 
 
 My mind was, however, made up, and I turned homeward. With- 
 out speaking a word to Considine, I sat down at my writing-table. 
 In a few brief lines I informed my army agent of my intention of 
 leaving the service, and desired that he would sell out for me at 
 once. Fearing lest my resolution might not be proof against the 
 advice and solicitation of my friends, I cautioned him against giving 
 my address, or any clue by which letters might reach me. 
 
 This done, I addressed a short note to Mr. Blake, requesting to 
 know the name of his solicitor in whose hands the bond was placed, 
 and announcing my intention of immediate repayment. 
 
 Trifling as these details were in themselves, I cannot help record- 
 ing how completely they changed the whole current of my thoughts. 
 A new train of interests began to spring up within me ; and where 
 so lately the clang of the battle, the ardor of the march, the careless 
 ease of the bivouac, had engrossed every feeling, now more humble 
 and homely thoughts succeeded ; and as my personal ambition had 
 lost its stimulant, I turned with pleasure to those of whose fate and 
 fortunes I was in some sort the guardian. There may be many a 
 land where the verdure blooms more in fragrance and in richness, — 
 where the clime breathes softer, and a brighter sky lights up the 
 landscape ; but there is none — I have travelled through many a one 
 — where more touching and heart-bound associations are blended 
 with the features of the soil than in Ireland, and cold must be the 
 spirit and barren the affections of him who can dwell amid its moun- 
 tains and its valleys, its tranquil lakes, its wooded fens, without 
 feeling their humanizing influence upon him. Thus gradually new 
 impressions and new duties succeeded ; and ere four months elapsed, 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 653 
 
 the quiet monotony of my daily life healed up' the wounds of my 
 suffering. In the calm current of my present existence, a sense 
 of content, if not of happiness, crept gently over me, and I ceased 
 to long for the clash of arms and the loud blast of the trumpet. 
 
 Unlike all my former habits, I quickly abandoned the sports of 
 the field. He who had participated in them with me was no longer 
 there ; and the very sight of the tackle itself suggested sad and de- 
 pressing thoughts. 
 
 My horses I took but little pleasure in. To gratify the good and 
 kind people about, I would walk through the stables, and make 
 some passing remark, as if to show some interest ; but I felt it not. 
 No : it was only by the total change of all the ordinary channels of 
 my ideas that I could bear up ; and now my days were passed in the 
 fields, either listlessly strolling along, or in watching the laborers 
 as they worked. Of my neighbors I saw nothing ; returning their 
 calls, when they called upon me, was the extent of our intercourse ; 
 and I had no desire for any further. As Considine had left me to 
 visit some friends in the south, I was quite alone ; and, for the first 
 time in my life, felt how soothing can be such- solitude. In each 
 happy face, in every grateful look around me, I felt that I was ful- 
 filling my uncle's last behest ; and the sense of duty, so strong when 
 it falls upon the heart accompanied by the sense of power, made my 
 days pass rapidly away. 
 
 It was towards the close of autumn, when I one morning received 
 a letter from London, informing me that my troop had been sold 
 and the purchase-money — above four thousand pounds — lodged to 
 my credit at my banker's. 
 
 As Mr. Blake had merely answered my former note by a civil 
 message that the matter in question was by no means pressing, I 
 lost not a moment, when this news reached me, to despatch Mike to 
 Gurt-na-Morra with a few lines, expressing my anxious desire to 
 finish the transaction, and begging of Mr. Blake to appoint a day 
 for the purpose. 
 
 To this application Mr. Blake's reply was that he would do him- 
 self the honor of waiting upon me the following day, when the 
 arrangements I desired could be agreed upon. Now this was ex- 
 actly what I wished, if possible, to avoid. Of all my neighbors, he 
 was the one I predetermined to have no intercourse with. I had 
 not forgotten my last evening at his house, nor had I forgiven his 
 conduct to my uncle. However, there was nothing for it but sub- 
 mission; the interview need not be long, and it should be a last 
 one. Thus resolving, I waited in patience for the morrow. 
 
 I was seated at my breakfast the next morning, conning between 
 whiles the columns of the last paper, and feeding my spaniel, who 
 
654 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 sat upon a large chair beside me, when the door opened, and the 
 servant announced " Mr. Blake ;" and the instant after that gentle- 
 man bustled in, holding out both his hands with all evidences of 
 most friendly warmth, and calling out, 
 
 " Charley O'Malley, my lad I I'm delighted to see you at last !" 
 
 Now, although the distance from the door to the table at which 
 I sat was not many paces, yet was it quite sufficient to chill down 
 all my respectable relative's ardor before he approached ; his rapid 
 pace became gradually a shuffle, a slide, and finally a dead stop ; 
 his extended arms were reduced to one hand, barely advanced be- 
 yond his waistcoat; his voice, losing the easy confidence of its 
 former tone, got husky and dry, and broke into a cough ; and all 
 these changes were indebted to the mere fact of my reception of 
 him consisting in a cold and distant bow, as I told the servant to 
 place a chair and leave the room. 
 
 Without any preliminary whatever, I opened the subject of our 
 negotiation, expressed my regret that it should have waited so long, 
 and my desire to complete it. 
 
 Whether it was that the firm and resolute tone I assumed had its 
 effect at once, or that, disappointed at the mode in which I received 
 his advances, he wished to conclude our interview as soon as need 
 be, I know not ; but he speedily withdrew from a capacious pocket 
 a document in parchment, which having spread at large upon the 
 table, and having leisurely put on his spectacles, he began to hum 
 over its contents to himself in an undertone. 
 
 "Yes, sir, here it is," said he. "' Deed of conveyance between 
 Godfrey O'Malley, of O'Malley Castle, Esq., on the one part' — per- 
 haps you'd like your solicitor to examine it, — ' and Blake, of Gurt' — 
 because there is no hurry, Captain O'Malley, — ' on the other.' In 
 fact, after all, it is a mere matter of form between relatives," said 
 he, as I declined the intervention of a lawyer. " I'm not in want 
 of the money — S all the lands and tenements adjoining, in trust, for 
 the payment of the said three thousand' — thank God, Captain, the 
 sum is a trifle that does not inconvenience me. The boys are pro- 
 vided for; and the girls — the pickpockets, as I call them, — ha, ha, 
 ha ! — not ill off neither ; — ' with rights of turbary on the said pre- 
 mises' — who are most anxious to have the pleasure of seeing you. 
 Indeed, I could scarcely keep Jane from coming over to-day. • Sure 
 he's my cousin/ says she ; ' and what harm would it be if I went to 
 see him?' Wild, good-natured girls, Captain ! And your old friend 
 Matthew— you haven't forgot Matthew? — has been keeping three 
 coveys of partridge for you this fortnight. ' Charley,' says he— they 
 call you Charley still, Captain—' shall have them, and no one else.' 
 And poor Mary — she was a child when you were here — Mary i3 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 655 
 
 working a sash for you. But I'm forgetting — I know you have so 
 much business on your hands " 
 
 "Pray, Mr. Blake, be seated. I know nothing of any more im- 
 portance than the matter before us. If you will permit me to give 
 you a check for this money. The papers, I'm sure, are perfectly 
 correct." 
 
 " If I only thought it did not inconvenience you " 
 
 " Nothing of the kind, I assure you. Shall I say at sight, or in 
 ten days hence ?" 
 
 " Whenever you please, Captain. But it's sorry I am to come 
 troubling you about such things, when I know you're thinking of 
 other matters. And, as I said before, the money does not signify 
 to me ; the times, thank God, are good, and I've never been very 
 improvident." 
 
 " I think you'll find that correct." 
 
 " Oh, to be sure it is ! Well, well ; I'm going away without say- 
 ing half what I intended." 
 
 " Pray do not hurry yourself. I have not asked have you break- 
 fasted, for I remember Galway habits too well for that. But if I 
 might offer you a glass of sherry and water after your ride ?" 
 
 " Will you think me a beast if I say yes, Captain ? Time was 
 when I didn't care for a canter of ten or fifteen miles in the morn- 
 ing no more than yourself; and that's no small boast. God forgive 
 me, but I never see that clover-field where you pounded the Eng- 
 lishman, without swearing there never was a leap made before or 
 since. Is this Mickey, Captain? Faith, and it's a fine, brown, 
 hearty-looking chap you're grown, Mickey. That's mighty pleasant 
 sherry ! but where would there be good wine if it wasn't here ? Oh ! 
 I remember now what it was I wanted. Peter — my son Peter, a slip 
 of a boy — he's only sixteen — well, d'ye see, he's downright deranged 
 about the army : he used to see your name in the papers every day, 
 and that terrible business at — what's the name of the place ? — where 
 you rode on the chap's back up the breach." 
 
 " Ciudad Rodrigo, perhaps," said I, scarcely able to suppress a 
 laugh. 
 
 " Well, sir, since that, he'll hear of nothing but going into the 
 army ; ay, and into the dragoons too. Now, Captain, isn't it mighty 
 expensive in the dragoons ?" 
 
 " Why, no, not particularly so — at least in the regiment I served 
 with." 
 
 "I promised him I'd ask you; the boy's mad, that's the fact. I 
 wish, Captain, you'd just reason with him a little; he'll mind what 
 you say — there's no fear of that ; and you see, though I'd like to do 
 what's fair, I'm not going to cut off the girls for the sake of the boys; 
 
656 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 with the blessing of Providence they'll never be able to reproach me 
 for that. What I say is this : treat me well, and I'll treat you the 
 same. Marry the man my choice would pick out for you, and it's 
 not a matter of a thousand or two I'll care for. There's Bodkin — 
 you remember him ?" said he with a grin ; " he proposed for Mary, 
 but since the quarrel with you, she could never bear the sight of him, 
 and Alley wouldn't come down to dinner if he was in the house. 
 Mary's greatly altered. I wish you heard her sing ' I'd mourn the 
 hopes that leave me ;' queer girl she is ; she was little more than a 
 child when you were here, and she remembers you just as if it was 
 yesterday." 
 
 While Mr. Blake ran on at this rate, now dilating upon my own 
 manifold virtues and accomplishments, now expatiating upon the 
 more congenial theme — the fascinations of his fair daughters, and 
 the various merits of his sons — I could not help feeling how changed 
 our relative position was since our last meeting ; the tone of cool 
 and vulgar patronage he then assumed towards the unformed coun- 
 try lad was now converted into an air of fawning and deferential 
 submission, still more distasteful. 
 
 Young as I was, however, I had already seen a good deal of the 
 world ; my soldiering had at least taught me something of men, and 
 I had far less difficulty in deciphering the intentions and objects of 
 my worthy relative than I should have had in the enigmatical mazes 
 of the parchment bond of which he was the bearer. After all, to 
 how very narrow an extent in life are we fashioned by our own esti- 
 mate of ourselves ! My changed condition affected me but little 
 until I saw how it affected others ; that the position I occupied 
 should seem better, now that life had lost the great stimulus of am- 
 bition, was somewhat strange; and that flattery should pay its 
 homage to the mourning coat which it would have refused to my 
 soldier's garb, somewhat surprised me ; still my bettered fortunes 
 shone only brightly by reflected light ; for in my own heart I was 
 sad, spiritless, and oppressed. 
 
 Feeling somewhat ashamed at the coldness with which I treated a 
 man so much my elder, I gradually assumed towards Mr. Blake a 
 manner less reserved. He quickly availed himself of the change, 
 and launched out into an eloquent expose of my advantages and 
 capabilities, the only immediate effect of which was to convince 
 me that my property and my prospects must have been very accu- 
 rately conned over and considered by that worthy gentleman 
 before he could speak of the one or the other with such perfect 
 knowledge. 
 
 " When you get rid of these little encumbrances, your rent-roll 
 will be close on four thousand a year. There's Basset, sure, by only 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 657 
 
 reducing his interest from ten to five per cent., will give you a clear 
 eight hundred per annum; let him refuse, and I'll advance the 
 money. And, besides, look at Freney's farm; there's two hundred 
 acres let for one-third of the value, and you must look to these 
 things ; for, you see, Captain, we'll want you to go into Parliament ; 
 you can't help coming forward at the next election, and by the great 
 gun of Athlone, we'll return you." 
 
 Here Mr. Blake swallowed a full bumper of sherry, and, getting 
 up a little false enthusiasm for the moment, grasped me by both 
 hands and shook me violently; this done, like a skilful general, 
 who, having fired the last shot of his artillery, takes care to secure 
 his retreat, he retired towards the door, where his hat and coat were 
 lying. 
 
 " I've a hundred apologies to make for encroaching upon your 
 time ; but, upon my soul, Captain, you are so agreeable, and the 
 
 hours have passed away so pleasantly May I never, if it is not 
 
 one o'clock ! — but you must forgive me." 
 
 My sense of justice, which showed me that the agreeability had 
 been all on Mr. Blake's side, prevented me from acknowledging this 
 compliment as it deserved; so I merely bowed stiffly without speak- 
 ing. By this time he had succeeded in putting on his greatcoat, 
 but still, by some mischance or other, the moment of his leave-taking 
 was deferred ; one time he buttoned it awry, and had to undo it all 
 again ; then, when it was properly adjusted, he discovered that his 
 pocket-handkerchief was not available, being left in the inner coat 
 pocket ; to this succeeded a doubt as to the safety of the check, 
 which instituted another search, and it was full ten minutes before 
 he was completely caparisoned and ready for the road. 
 
 " Good-bye, Captain ; good-bye !" said he, warmly, yet warily, not 
 knowing at what precise temperature the metal of my heart was 
 fusible. At a mild heat I had been evidently unsinged, and the 
 white glow of his flattery seemed only to harden me. The interview 
 was now over, and, as I thought sufficient had been done to convince 
 my friend that the terms of distant acquaintance were to be the limits 
 of our future intercourse, I assumed a little show of friendliness, and 
 shook his hand warmly. 
 
 " Good-bye, Mr. Blake ; pray present my respectful compliments 
 to your friends. Allow me to ring for your horse ; you are not going 
 to have a shower, I hope." 
 
 " No, no, Captain, only a passing cloud," said he, warming up 
 perceptibly under the influence of my advances, " nothing more. 
 Why, what is it I'm forgetting now ! Oh, I have it ! Maybe I'm 
 too bold ; but sure an old friend and relation may take a liberty 
 sometimes. It was just a little request of Mrs. Blake, as I was 
 42 
 
658 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 leaving the house." He stopped here as if to take soundings, and 
 perceiving no change in my countenance, continued, " It was just to 
 beg that, in a kind and friendly way, you'd come over and eat your 
 dinner with us on Sunday — nobody but the family, not a soul — 
 Mrs. Blake and the girls — a boiled leg of mutton — Matthew — a fresh 
 trout if we can catch one — plain and homely — but a hearty welcome, 
 and a bottle of old claret, maybe, too — ah ! ah! ah !" 
 
 Before the cadence of Mr. Blake's laugh had died away, I po- 
 litely but resolutely declined the proffered invitation, and, by way 
 of setting the question at rest forever, gave him to understand that, 
 from impaired health and other causes, I had resolved upon strictly 
 confining myself to the limits of my own house and grounds, at 
 least for the present. 
 
 Mr. Blake then saluted me for the last time, and left the room. 
 As he mounted his hackney, I could not help overhearing an abor- 
 tive effort he made to draw Mike into something like conversation ; 
 but it proved an utter failure, and it was evident he deemed the man 
 as incorrigible as the master. 
 
 "A very fine young man the Captain is — remarkable ! — and it's 
 proud I am to have him for a nephew !" 
 
 So saying, he cantered down the avenue, while Mickey, as he 
 looked after him, muttered between his teeth, "And faix, it's prouder 
 you'd be av he was your son-in-law !" 
 
 Mike's soliloquy seemed to show me, in a new light, the meaning 
 of my relative's manner. It was for the first time in my life that 
 such a thought had occurred to me, and it was not without a sense 
 of shame that I now admitted it. 
 
 If there be something which elevates and exalts us in our esteem, 
 tinging our hearts with heroism and our souls with pride, in the 
 love and attachment of some fair and beautiful girl, there is some- 
 thing equally humiliating in being the object of cold and speculat- 
 ive calculation to a match-making family. Your character studied, 
 your pursuits watched, your tastes conned over, your very tempera- 
 ment inquired into, — surrounded by snares, environed by practised 
 attentions — one eye fixed upon- the registered testament of your 
 relative, the other riveted upon your own caprices ; and then those 
 thousand little cares and kindnesses which come so pleasurably 
 upon the heart when the offspring of true affection, perverted as 
 they are by base views and sordid interest, are so many shocks to 
 the feelings and understanding. Like the Eastern sirocco, which 
 seems to breathe of freshness and of health, and yet bears but pesti- 
 lence and death upon its breezes, so these calculated and well-con- 
 sidered traits of affection only render callous and harden the heart 
 which has responded warmly, openly, and abundantly to the true 
 
A SURPRISE. 659 
 
 outpourings of affection. At how many a previously happy hearth 
 has the seed of this fatal passion planted its discord ! How many a 
 fair and lovely girl, with beauty and attractions sufficient to win all 
 that her heart could wish of fondness and devotion, has by this per- 
 nicious passion become a cold, heartless, worldly coquette, weighing 
 men's characters by the adventitious circumstances of their birth 
 and fortune, and scrutinizing the eligibility of a match with the 
 practised acumen with which a notary investigates the solvency of 
 a creditor. How do the traits of beauty, gesture, voice, and manner 
 become converted into the commonplace and distasteful trickery of 
 the world ! The very hospitality of the house becomes suspect — 
 their friendship is but fictitious. Those rare and goodly gifts of 
 fondness and sisterly affection which grow up in happier circum- 
 stances, are here but rivalry, envy, and ill-conceived hatred. The 
 very accomplishments which cultivate and adorn life, that light but 
 graceful frieze which gilds the temple of homely happiness, are here 
 but the meditated and well-considered occasions of display. All the 
 bright features of womanhood, all the freshness of youth, and all its 
 fascinations, are but like those richly-colored and beautiful fruits, 
 seductive to the eye and fair to look upon, but which within contain 
 nothing but a core of rottenness and decay. 
 
 No, no ; unblessed by all which makes a hearth a home, I may 
 travel on my weary way through life ; but such a one as this I will 
 not make the partner of my sorrow and my joys, come what will 
 of it ! 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 A SURPRISE. 
 
 FROM the hour of Mr. Blake's departure, my life was no longer 
 molested. My declaration, which had evidently, under his 
 auspices, been made the subject of conversation through the 
 country, was at least so far successful, as it permitted me to spend 
 my time in the way I liked best, and without the necessity of main- 
 taining a show of intercourse, when in reality I kept up none, with 
 the neighborhood. While thus, therefore, my life passed on equably 
 and tranquilly, many months glided over, and I found myself 
 already a year at home, without it appearing more than a few 
 weeks. Nothing seems so short in retrospect as monotony. The 
 number, the variety, the interest of the events which occupy us, 
 making our hours pass glibly and flowingly, will still suggest to the 
 
660 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 mind the impressions of a longer period than when the daily rou- 
 tine of our occupations assumes a character of continued uni- 
 formity. It seems to be the amende made by hours of weariness and 
 tedium, that, in looking back upon them, they appear to have passed 
 rapidly over. Not that my life, at the period I speak of, was devoid 
 of interest ; on the contrary, devoting myself with zeal and earnest- 
 ness to the new duties of my station, I made myself thoroughly 
 acquainted with the condition of my property, the interests of my 
 tenantry, their prospects, their hopes, their objects. Investigating 
 them as only he can who is the owner of the soil, I endeavored to 
 remedy the ancient vices of the land — the habits of careless, reck- 
 less waste, of indifference for the morrow ; and, by instilling a fea- 
 ture of prudent foresight into that boundless confidence in the 
 future upon which every Irishman, of every rank, lives and trusts, 
 I succeeded at last in so far ameliorating their situation, that a walk 
 through my property, instead of presenting — as it at first did — a 
 crowd of eager and anxious suppliants, entreating for abatements in 
 rent, succor for their sick, and sometimes even food itself, showed 
 me now a happy and industrious people, confident in themselves, 
 and firmly relying on their own resources. 
 
 Another spring was now opening, and a feeling of calm and tran- 
 quil happiness, the result of my successful management of my 
 estate, made my days pass pleasantly along. I was sitting at a late 
 breakfast in my little library ; the open window afforded a far and 
 wide prospect of the country, blooming in all the promise of the 
 season, while the drops of the passing shower still lingered upon the 
 grass, and were sparkling like jewels under the bright sunshine. 
 Masses of white and billowy cloud moved swiftly through the air, 
 coloring the broad river with many a shadow as they passed. The 
 birds sang merrily, the trees shook their leaves in concert, and there 
 was that sense of movement in everything in earth and sky which 
 gives to spring its character of lightness and exhilaration. The 
 youth of the year, like the youth of our own existence, is beautiful 
 in the restless activity which marks it. The tender flower, that 
 seems to open as we look upon it ; the grass, that springs before our 
 eyes,— all speak of promise. The changing phases of the sky, like 
 the smiles and tears of infancy, excite without weariness, and while 
 they engage our sympathies, they fatigue not our compassion. 
 
 Partly lost in thought as I looked upon the fair and varied scene 
 before me, now turning to the pages of the book upon the breakfast- 
 table, the hours of the morning passed quickly over, and it was 
 already beyond noon. I was startled from my reverie by sounds 
 which I could scarcely trust my ears to believe real. I listened 
 again, and I thought I could detect them distinctly. It seemed as 
 
A SURPRISE. 661 
 
 though some one were rapidly running over the keys of a piano- 
 forte, essaying with the voice to follow the notes, and sometimes 
 striking two or three bold and successive chords — then a merry 
 laugh would follow, and drown all other sounds. " What can it be?" 
 thought I. " There is, to be sure, a pianoforte in the large draw- 
 ing-room ; but then, who would venture upon such a liberty as this? 
 Besides, who is capable of it ? There ! it can be no inexperienced 
 performer gave that shake ; my worthy housekeeper never accom- 
 plished that." So saying, I jumped from the breakfast-table, and 
 set off in the direction of the sound. A small drawing-room and 
 billiard-room lay between me and the large drawing-room, and as I 
 traversed them, the music grew gradually louder. Conjecturing 
 that, whoever it might be, the performance would cease on my 
 entrance, I listened for a few moments before opening the door. 
 Nothing could be more singular, nothing more strange, than the 
 effect of those unaccustomed sounds in that silent and deserted 
 place. The character of the music, too, contributed not a little to 
 this. Eapidly passing from grave to gay — from the melting soft- 
 ness of some plaintive air to the reckless hurry and confusion of an 
 Irish jig — the player seemed, as it were, to run wild through all the 
 floating fancies of his memory. Now breaking suddenly off in the 
 saddest cadence of a song, the notes would change into some quaint, 
 old-fashioned crone, in which the singer seemed so much at home, 
 and gave the queer drollery of the words that expression of arch- 
 ness so eminently the character of certain Irish airs. " But what 
 the deuce is this ?" said I, as, rattling over the keys with a flowing 
 but brilliant finger, she — for it was unquestionably a woman — with 
 a clear and sweet voice, broken by laughter, began to sing the 
 words of Mr. Bodkin's song, " The Man for Galway." When she 
 had finished the last verse, her hand strayed, as it were, carelessly 
 across the instrument, while she herself gave way to a free burst 
 of merriment ; and then, suddenly resuming the air, she chanted 
 forth the following words, with a spirit and effect I can convey no 
 idea of: — 
 
 "To live at home, 
 
 And never roam ', 
 To pass his days in sighing, 
 
 To wear sad looks, 
 
 Read stupid books, 
 And look half dead or dying : 
 
 Not show his face, 
 
 Nor join the chase, 
 But dwell a hermit alway : 
 
 Oh ! Charley dear ! 
 
 To me 'tis clear, 
 You're not the man for Galway !" 
 
662 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " You're not the man for Galway I" repeated she once more, while 
 she closed the piano with a loud bang. 
 
 " And why not, my dear, — why not the man for Galway ?" said I, 
 as, bursting open the door, I sprang into the room. 
 
 "Oh ! it's you, is it? at last! So I've unearthed you, have I?" 
 
 With these words she burst into an immoderate fit of laughter; 
 leaving me, who intended to be the party giving the surprise, amazed, 
 confused, and speechless, in the middle of the floor. 
 
 That my reader may sympathize a little in my distresses, let me 
 present him with the tableau before me. Seated upon the piano stool 
 was a young lady of at most eighteen years. Her face, had it not been 
 for its expression of exuberant drollery and malicious fun, would 
 have been downright beautiful ; her eyes, of the deepest blue, and 
 shaded by long lashes, instead of indulging the character of pensive 
 and thoughtful beauty for which Nature destined them, sparkled 
 with the most animated brightness ; her nose, which, rather short, 
 w r as still beautifully proportioned, gave, with a well-curled upper 
 lip, a look of sauciness to the features quite bewitching ; her hair — 
 that brilliant auburn we see in a Carlo Bold — fell in wild and mas- 
 sive curls upon her shoulders. Her costume was a dark-green riding- 
 habit, not of the newest in its fashion, and displaying more than 
 one rent in its careless folds ; her hat, whip, and gloves lay on the 
 floor beside her, and her whole attitude and bearing indicated the 
 most perfect ease and carelessness. 
 
 " So you are caught — taken alive !" said she, as she pressed her 
 hands upon her sides in a fresh burst of laughter. 
 
 " By Jove ! this is a surprise indeed !" said I. " And, pray, into 
 whose fair hands have I fallen a captive ?" recovering myself a little, 
 and assuming a half air of gallantry. 
 
 " So you don't know me, don't you ?" 
 
 " Upon my life I do not." 
 
 " How good ! Why, I'm Baby Blake." 
 
 " Baby Blake ?" said I, thinking that a rather strange appellation 
 for one whose well-developed proportions betokened nothing of in- 
 fancy. "Baby Blake?" 
 
 " To be sure ; your cousin Baby." 
 
 " Indeed !" said I, springing forward. " Let me embrace my rela- 
 tive." 
 
 Accepting my proffered salutation with the most exemplary cool- 
 ness, she said : 
 
 "Get a chair, now, and let's have a talk together." 
 
 " Why the devil do they call you Baby ?" said I, still puzzled by 
 the palpable misnomer. 
 
 " Because I am the youngest, and I was always the baby," replied 
 
A SURPRISE. 663 
 
 she, adjusting her ringlets with a most rural coquetry. " Now, tell 
 me something. Why do you live shut up here like a madman, and 
 not come near us at Gurt-na-Morra V ' 
 
 " Oh ! that's a long story, Baby. But, since we are asking ques- 
 tions, how did you get in here ?" 
 
 " Just through the window, my dear ; and I've torn my habit, as 
 you see." 
 
 So saying, she exhibited a rent of about two feet long, thrusting 
 through it a very pretty foot and ankle at the same time. 
 
 "As my inhospitable customs have cost you a habit, you must 
 let me make you a present of one." 
 
 " No, will you though ? That's a good fellow ! Lord ! I told 
 them I knew you weren't a miser ; that you were only odd, that's 
 all." 
 
 " And how did you come over, Baby ?" 
 
 " Just cantered over with little Paddy Byrne. I made him take 
 all the walls and ditches we met, and they're scraping the mud off 
 him ever since. I'm glad I made you laugh, Charley; they say 
 you are so sad. Dear me, how thirsty I am ! Have you any beer ?" 
 
 "To be sure, Baby. But wouldn't you like some luncheon ?" 
 
 "Of all things. Well, this is fun!" said she, as, taking my arm, 
 I led her from the drawing-room. " They don't know where I'm 
 gone — not one of them ; and I've a great mind not to tell them, if 
 you wouldn't blab." 
 
 "Would it be quite proper?" 
 
 " Proper !" cried she, imitating my voice ; " I like that ! as if I 
 was going to run away with you. Dear me ! what a pretty house ! 
 and what nice pictures ! Who is the old fellow up there in the 
 armor?" 
 
 " That's Sir Hildebrand O'Malley," said I, with some pride, in re- 
 cognizing an ancestor of the thirteenth century. 
 
 " And the other old fright with the wig, and his hands stuck in 
 his pockets ?" 
 
 " My grandfather, Baby." 
 
 " Lord ! how ugly he is ! Why, Charley, he hasn't a look of you ; 
 one would think, too, he was angry at us. Ay, old gentleman ! 
 you don't like to see me leaning on cousin Charley's arm. That 
 must be the luncheon ; I'm sure I hear knives and forks rattling 
 there." 
 
 The old butler's astonishment was not inferior to my own a few 
 minutes before, when I entered the dining-room with my fair cousin 
 upon my arm. As I drew a chair towards the table, a thought 
 struck me that possibly it might only be a due attention to my fair 
 guest if I invited the housekeeper, Mrs. Magra, to favor us with her 
 
664 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 presence ; and accordingly, in an undertone, so as not to be overheard 
 by old Simon, I said — 
 
 " Perhaps, Baby, you'd like to have Mrs. Magra to keep us com- 
 pany ?" 
 
 " Who's she ?" was the brief answer. 
 
 " The housekeeper ; a very respectable old matron." 
 
 " Is she funny ?" 
 
 " Funny ! not a bit." 
 
 " Oh, then, never mind her. What made you think of her ?" 
 
 " Why, I thought — perhaps you'd think — that is, people might 
 say — in fact, I was doing a little bit proper on your account." 
 
 " Oh ! that was it, was it ? Thank you for nothing, my dear ; 
 Baby Blake can take care of herself. And now just help me to that 
 wing there. Do you know, cousin Charley, I think you're an old 
 quiz, and not half as good a fellow as you used to be." 
 
 " Come, come, Baby, don't be in such a hurry to pronounce upon 
 me. Let us take a glass of wine. Fill Miss Blake's glass, Simon." 
 
 "Well, you may be better when one comes to know you. I detest 
 sherry ; no, never mind, I'll take it, as it's here. Charley, I'll not 
 compliment you upon your ham ; they don't know how to save them 
 here. I'll give you such a receipt when you come over to see us. But 
 will you come ? that's the question." 
 
 " How can you ask me ! Don't you think I'll return your visit ?" 
 
 " Oh ! hang your ceremony. Come and see us, like a good- 
 natured fellow, that knew us since we played together, and quar- 
 relled over our toys on the grass. Is that your sword up there ? Did 
 you hear that noise ? that was thunder : there it comes. Look at 
 that!" 
 
 As she spoke, a darkness like night overspread the landscape ; the 
 waves of the river became greatly agitated, and the rain, descending 
 in torrents, beat with tremendous force against the windows ; clap 
 after clap of thunder followed ; the lightning flashed fearfully 
 through the gloom, and the wind, growing every moment stronger, 
 drove the rain with redoubled violence against the glass. For a 
 while we amused ourselves with watching the effects of the storm 
 without; the poor laborers, flying from their work; the dripping 
 figures seeking shelter beneath the trees ; the barques ; the very 
 loaded carts themselves, all interested Miss Baby, whose eye roved 
 from the shore to the Shannon, recognizing, with a practised eye, 
 every house upon its banks, and every barque that rocked and 
 pitched beneath the gale. 
 
 "Well, this is pleasant to look out at," said she, at length, and 
 after the storm had lasted for above an hour, without evincing any 
 show of abatement; "but what's to become of me!" 
 
A SURPRISE. 665 
 
 Now, that was the very question I had been asking myself for 
 the last twenty minutes, without ever being able to find the answer. 
 
 " Eh, Charley, what's to become of me ?" 
 
 " Oh, never fear : one thing's quite certain, you cannot leave this 
 in such weather ; the river is certainly impassable by this time at 
 the ford, and to go by the road is out of the question ; it is fully 
 twelve miles. I have it, Baby ; you, as I've said before, can't leave 
 this, but I can. Now, I'll go over to Gurt-na-Morra, and return in 
 the morning to bring you back ; it will be fine by that time." 
 
 " Well, I like your notion ; you'll leave me all alone here to drink 
 tea, I suppose, with your friend Mrs. Magra ; a pleasant evening I'd 
 have of it : not a bit — < — " 
 
 "Well, Baby, don't be cross; I only meant this arrangement 
 really for your sake. I needn't tell you how very much I'd prefer 
 doing the honors of my poor house in person." 
 
 "Oh, I see what you mean — more propers. Well, well, I've a 
 great deal to learn ; but, look, I think it's growing lighter." 
 
 " No, far from it ; it's only that gray mass along the horizon that 
 always bodes continual rain." 
 
 As the prospect without had little cheering to look upon, we sat 
 down beside the fire, and chatted away, forgetting very soon, in a 
 hundred mutual recollections and inquiries, the rain and the wind, 
 the thunder and the hurricane. Now and then, as some louder 
 crash would resound above our heads, for a moment we would turn 
 to the window, and comment upon the dreadful weather ; but the 
 next, we had forgotten all about it, and were deep in our confabu- 
 lations. 
 
 As for my fair cousin, who at first was full of contrivances to 
 pass the time — such as the piano, a game at backgammon, chicken 
 hazard, battledore — she at last became mightily interested in some 
 of my soldiering adventures, and it was six o'clock ere we again 
 thought that some final measure must be adopted for restoring 
 Baby to her friends, or, at least, guarding against the consequences 
 her simple and guileless nature might have involved her in. 
 
 Mike was called into the conference, and at his suggestion it was 
 decided that we should have out the phaeton, and that I should 
 myself drive Miss Blake home — a plan which offered no other diffi- 
 culties than this one, namely, that of about thirty horses in my 
 stables, I had not a single pair which had ever been harnessed. 
 
 This, so far from proving the obstacle I deemed it, seemed, on the 
 contrary, to overwhelm Baby with delight. 
 
 " Let's have them. Come, Charley ; this will be rare fun ; we 
 couldn't have a team of four, could we ?" 
 
 "Six, if you like it, my dear coz ; only, who's to hold them? — 
 
6G6 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 they're young thorough-breds ; most of them never backed ; some 
 not bitted. In fact, I know nothing of my stable. I say, Mike, is 
 there anything fit to take out ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; there's Miss Wildespin : she's in training, to be sure ; 
 but we can't help that; and the brown colt they call 'Billy the 
 Bolter:' they're the likeliest we have; without your honor would 
 take the two chestnuts we took up last week ; they're rale devils to 
 go; and if the tackle will hold them, they'll bring you to Mr. 
 Blake's door in forty minutes." 
 
 " I vote for the chestnuts," said Baby, slapping her boot with her 
 horse-whip. 
 
 "I move an amendment in favor of Miss Wildespin," said I, 
 doubtfully. 
 
 " He'll never do for Galway," sang Baby, laying her whip on my 
 shoulder with no tender hand ; " yet you used to cross the country 
 in good style when you were here before." 
 
 "And might do so again, Baby." 
 
 "Ah, no ; that vile dragoon seat, with your long stirrup, and your 
 heel dropped, and your elbow this way, and your head that ! How 
 could you ever screw your horse up to his fence, lifting him along 
 as you came up through the heavy ground, and with a stroke of 
 your hand sending him pop over, with his hind legs well under 
 him ?" Here she burst into a fit of laughter at my look of amaze- 
 ment, as with voice, gesture, and look, she actually dramatized the 
 scene she described. 
 
 By the time that I had costumed my fair friend in my dragoon 
 cloak and a foraging cap, with a gold band around it, which was 
 the extent of muffling my establishment could muster, a distant 
 noise without apprised us that the phaeton was approaching. Cer- 
 tainly the mode in which that equipage came up to the door might 
 have -inspired sentiments of fear in any heart less steeled against 
 danger than my fair cousin's. The two blood chestnuts (for it was 
 those that Mike harnessed, having a groom's dislike to take a racer 
 out of training) were surrounded by about twenty people : some at 
 their heads, some patting them on their flanks, some spoking the 
 wheels, and a few, the more cautious of the party, standing at a 
 respectable distance, and offering advice. The mode of progression 
 was simply a spring, a plunge, a rear, a lunge, and a kick; and, 
 considering it was the first time they ever performed together, 
 nothing could be more uniform than their display ; sometimes the 
 pole would be seen to point straight upward, like a lightning con- 
 ductor, while the infuriated animals appeared sparring with their 
 fore legs at an imaginary enemy. Sometimes, like the picture in a 
 school-book on mythology, they would seem in the act of diving, 
 
A SURPRISE. 667 
 
 while with their hind legs they dashed the splash-board into frag- 
 ments behind them ; their eyes flashing fire, their nostrils distended, 
 their flanks heaving, and every limb trembling with passion and 
 excitement. 
 
 " That's what I call a rare turn-out," said Baby, who enjoyed the 
 proceedings amazingly. 
 
 " Yes ; but remember," said I, " we're not to have all these run- 
 ning footmen the whole way." 
 
 " I like that near sider with the white fetlock." 
 
 " You're right, Miss," said Mike, who entered at the moment, and 
 felt quite gratified at the criticism. " You're right, Miss ; it's him- 
 self can do it." 
 
 " Come, Baby, are you ready ?" 
 
 " All right, sir," said she, touching her cap knowingly with her 
 forefinger. 
 
 "Will the tackle hold, Mike?" said I. 
 
 " We'll take this with us, at any rate," pointing, as he spoke, to 
 a considerable coil of rope, a hammer, and a basket of nails, he 
 carried on his arm. " It's the break harness we have, and it ought 
 to be strong enough ; but sure, if the thunder comes on again, they'd 
 smash a chain cable." 
 
 "Now, Charley," cried Baby, "keep their heads straight; for 
 when they go that way, they mean going." 
 
 "Well, Baby, let's start; but pray remember one thing. If I'm 
 not as agreeable on the journey as I ought to be; if I don't say as 
 many pretty things to my pretty coz, it's because these confounded 
 beasts will give me as much as I can do." 
 
 " Oh yes, look after the cattle, and take another time for squeezing 
 my hand. I say, Charley, you'd like to smoke, now, wouldn't you ? 
 if so, don't mind me." 
 
 " A thousand thanks for thinking of it ; but I'll not commit such 
 a trespass on good-breeding." 
 
 When we reached the door, the prospect looked dark and dismal 
 enough ; the rain had almost ceased, but masses of black clouds 
 were hurrying across the sky, and the low rumbling noise of a 
 gathering storm crept along the ground. Our panting equipage, 
 with its two mounted grooms behind, — for, to provide against all 
 accidents, Mike ordered two such to follow us, — stood in waiting; 
 Miss Blake's horse, held by the smallest imaginable bit of boyhood, 
 bringing up the rear. 
 
 " Look at Paddy Byrne's face," said Baby, directing my attention 
 to the little individual in question. 
 
 Now, small as the aforesaid face was, it contrived, within its 
 limits, to exhibit an expression of unqualified fear. I had no time, 
 
668 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 however, to give a second look, when I jumped into the phaeton 
 and seized the reins. Mike sprang up behind at a look from me, 
 and, without -speaking a word, the stablemen and helpers flew right 
 and left. The chestnuts, seeing all free before them, made one tre- 
 mendous plunge, carrying the fore-carriage clear off the ground, 
 and straining every nut, bolt, screw, and strap about us with the 
 effort. 
 
 " They're off, now," cried Mickey. 
 
 " Yes, they are off, now," said Baby. " Keep them going." 
 
 Nothing could be easier to follow than this advice ; and, in fact, 
 so little merit had I in obeying it, that I never spoke a word. Down 
 the avenue we went at the speed of lightning, the stones, and the 
 water from the late rain, flying and splashing about us. In one 
 series of plunges, agreeably diversified by a strong bang upon the 
 splash-board, we reached the gate. Before I had time to utter a 
 prayer for our safety, we were through, and fairly upon the high 
 road. 
 
 " Musha, but the master's mad I" cried the old dame of the gate- 
 lodge ; " he wasn't out of this gate for a year and a half, and look 
 now " 
 
 The rest was lost in the clear ringing laugh of Baby, who clapped 
 her hands in ecstasy and delight. # 
 
 " What a spanking pair they are ! I suppose you wouldn't let 
 me get my hand on them ?" said she, making a gesture as if to take 
 the reins. 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! my dear," said I ; " they've nearly pulled my 
 wrists off already." 
 
 Our road, like many in the west of Ireland, lay through a level 
 tract of bog ; deep ditches, half filled with water, on either side of 
 us, but, fortunately, neither hill nor valley for several miles. 
 
 " There's the mail," said Baby, pointing to a dark speck at a long 
 distance off. 
 
 Ere many minutes elapsed, our stretching gallop, for such had our 
 pace sobered into, brought us up with it, and as we flew by, at top 
 speed, Baby jumped to her feet, and turning a waggish look at our 
 beaten rivals, burst out into a fit of triumphant laughter. 
 
 Mike was correct as to time ; in some few seconds less than forty 
 minutes we turned into the avenue of Gurt-na-Morra. Tearing 
 along like the very moment of their starting, the hot and fiery ani- 
 mals galloped up the approach, and at length came to a stop in a 
 deep ploughed field, into which, fortunately for us, Mr. Blake, ani- 
 mated less by the picturesque than the profitable, had converted his 
 green lawn. This check, however, was less owing to my agency 
 than to that of my servants; for, dismounting in haste, they flew to 
 
NEW VIEWS. 669 
 
 the horses' heads, and with ready tact, and before I had helped my 
 cousin to the ground, succeeded in unharnessing them from the car- 
 riage, and led them, blown and panting, covered with foam and 
 splashed with mud, into the space before the door. 
 
 By this time we were joined by the whole Blake family, who 
 poured forth in astonishment at our strange and sudden appearance. 
 Explanation on my part was unnecessary, for Baby, with a volubil- 
 ity quite her own, gave the whole recital in less than three minutes. 
 From the moment of her advent to her departure, they had it all ; 
 and while she mingled her ridicule at my surprise, her praise of my 
 luncheon, her jests at my prudence, the whole family joined heartily 
 in her mirth, while they welcomed, with most unequivocal warmth, 
 my first visit to Gurt-na-Morra. 
 
 I confess it was with no slight gratification I remarked that Baby's 
 visit was as much a matter of surprise to them as to me. Believing 
 her to have gone to visit at Portumna Castle, they felt no uneasiness 
 at her absence ; so that, in her descent upon me, she was really only 
 guided by her own wilful fancy, and that total absence of all con- 
 sciousness of wrong which makes a truly innocent girl the hardiest 
 of all God's creatures. I was reassured by this feeling, and satisfied 
 that, whatever the intentions of the elder members of the Blake 
 family, Baby was, at least, no participator in their plots, or sharer 
 in their intrigues. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 NEW VIEWS. 
 
 WHEN I found myself the next morning at home, I could 
 not help ruminating over the strange adventures of the pre- 
 ceding day, and felt a kind of self-reproach at the frigid 
 manner in which I had hitherto treated all the Blake advances, con- 
 trasting so ill for me with the unaffected warmth and kind good- 
 nature of their reception. Never alluding, even by accident, to my 
 late estrangement ; never, by a chance speech, indicating that they 
 felt any soreness for the past, they talked away about the gossip of 
 the country, — its feuds, its dinners, its assizes, its balls, its garri- 
 sons, — all the varied subjects of country life were gayly and laugh- 
 ingly discussed ; and when, as I entered my own silent and deserted 
 home, and contrasted its looks of melancholy and gloom with the 
 gay and merry scene I so lately departed from ; when my echoing 
 
670 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 steps reverberated along the flagged hall, I thought of the happy- 
 family picture I left behind me, and could not help avowing to my- 
 self that the goods of fortune I possessed were but ill dispensed, 
 when, in the midst of every means and appliance for comfort and 
 happiness, I lived a solitary man, companionless and alone. 
 
 I arose from breakfast a hundred times ; now walking impatiently 
 towards the window, now strolling into the drawing-room. Around, 
 on every side, lay scattered the prints and drawings, as Baby had 
 thrown them carelessly upon the floor ; her handkerchief was also 
 there. I took it up ; I knew not why — some lurking leaven of old 
 romance perhaps suggested it ; but I hoped it might prove of deli- 
 cate texture, and bespeaking that lady-like coquetry which so pleas- 
 antly associates with the sex in our minds. Alas ! no. Nothing 
 could be more palpably the opposite. Torn, and with a knot — some 
 hint to memory — upon one corner, it was no aid to my careering 
 fancy. And yet — and yet, what a handsome girl she is! how finely, 
 how delicately formed that Greek outline of forehead and brow ! 
 how transparently soft that downy pink upon her cheek ! with what 
 varied expression those eyes can beam ! — ay, that they can : but, 
 confound it ! there's this fault, — their very archness — their sly mal- 
 ice — will be interpreted by the ill-judging world to any but the real 
 motive. " How like a flirt !" will one say ; " how impertinent ! how 
 ill-bred!" The conventional stare of cold, patched and painted 
 beauty, upon whose unblushing cheek no stray tinge of modesty has 
 wandered, will be tolerated — even admired ; while the artless beam- 
 ings of the soul upon the face of rural loveliness will be condemned 
 without appeal. 
 
 Such a girl may a man marry who destines his days to the wild 
 west, but woe unto him ! — woe unto him ! should he migrate among 
 the more civilized and less charitable coteries of our neighbors. 
 
 "Ah I here are the papers, and I was forgetting. Let me see — 
 ' Bayonne' — ay, ' march of the troops — sixth corps.' What can that 
 be without ? I say, Mike, who is cantering along the avenue ?" 
 
 " It's me, sir. I'm training the brown filly for Miss Mary, as your 
 honor bid me last night." 
 
 "Ah, very true. Does she go quietly ?" 
 
 " Like a lamb, sir ; barrin' she does give a kick now and then at 
 the sheet, when it bangs against her legs." 
 
 "Am I to go over with the books now, sir?" said a wild-looking 
 shockhead appearing within the door. 
 
 " Yes, take them over, with my compliments ; and say I hope 
 Miss Mary Blake has caught no cold." 
 
 "You were speaking about a habit and hat, sir?" said Mrs. 
 Magra, curtseying as she entered. 
 
NEW VIEWS. ' 671 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Magra ; I want your advice. Oh, tell Barnes I really 
 cannot be bored about those eternal turnips every day of my life. 
 And, Mike, I wish you'd make them look over the four-horse har- 
 ness. I want to try those grays; they tell me they'll run well 
 together. Well, Freney, more complaints, I hope? nothing but 
 trespasses ; I don't care ; so you'd not worry me, if they eat up every 
 blade of clover in the grounds. I'm sick of being bored this way. 
 Did you say that we'd eight couple of good dogs? — quite enough to 
 begin with. Tell Jones to ride into Banagher and look after that 
 box : Buckmaster sent it from London two months ago, and it has 
 been lying there ever since. And, Mrs. Magra, pray let the windows 
 be opened, and the house well aired. That drawing-room would be 
 all the better for new papering." 
 
 These few and broken directions may serve to show my readers — 
 what certainly they failed to convince myself of— that a new chapter 
 of my life had opened before me ; and that in proportion to the 
 length of time my feelings had found neither vent nor outlet, they 
 now rushed madly, tempestuously, into their new channels, suffering 
 no impediment to arrest, no obstacle to oppose their current. 
 
 Nothing can be conceived more opposite to my late, than my 
 present habits now became. The house, the grounds, the gardens, 
 all seemed to participate in the new influence which beamed upon 
 myself; the stir and bustle of active life was everywhere percepti- 
 ble ; and, amid numerous preparations for the moors and the hunt- 
 ing-field, for pleasure parties up the river, and fishing excursions up 
 the mountains, my days were spent. The Blakes, without even for 
 a moment pressing their attentions upon me, permitted me to go 
 and come amongst them unquestioned and unasked. When, nearly 
 every morning, I appeared in the breakfast-room, I felt exactly like 
 a member of the family. The hundred little discrepancies of 
 thought and habit which struck me forcibly at first looked daily 
 less apparent; the careless inattentions of my fair cousins as to 
 dress, their free-and-easy, boisterous manner, their very accents, 
 which fell so harshly upon my ear, gradually made less and less 
 impression, until at last, when a raw English ensign, just arrived 
 in the neighborhood, remarked to me in confidence, " What devilish 
 fine girls they were, if they were not so confoundedly Irish !" I 
 could not help wondering what the fellow meant, and attributed the 
 observation more to his ignorance than to its truth. 
 
 Papa and Mamma Blake, like prudent generals, so long as they 
 saw the forces of the enemy daily wasting before them — so long as 
 they could with impunity carry on the war at his expense — resolved 
 to risk nothing by a pitched battle. Unlike the Dalrymples, they 
 could leave all to time. 
 
672 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Oh ! tell me not of dark eyes swimming in their own ethereal 
 essence ; tell me not of pouting lips, of glossy ringlets, of taper fin- 
 gers, and well-rounded insteps ; speak not to me of soft voices, 
 whose seductive sounds ring sweetly in our hearts ; preach not of 
 those thousand womanly graces so dear to every man, and doubly so 
 to him who lives apart from all their influences and fascinations; 
 neither dwell upon congenial temperament, similarity of taste, of 
 disposition, and of thought; these are not the great risks a man 
 runs in life. Of all the temptations, strong as these may be, there 
 is one greater than them all, and that is — propinquity ! 
 
 Show me the man who has ever stood this test; show me the 
 man, deserving the name of such, who has become daily and hourly 
 exposed to the breaching artillery of flashing eyes, of soft voices, of 
 winning smiles, and kind speeches, and who hasn't felt, and that too 
 soon, a breach within the rampart of his heart. He may, it is true, — 
 nay, he will, in many cases, — make a bold and vigorous defence ; 
 sometimes will he re-intrench himself within the stockades of his 
 prudence, but, alas ! it is only to defer the moment when he must 
 lay down his arms. He may, like a wise man, who sees his fate 
 inevitable, make a virtue of necessity, and surrender at discretion ; 
 or, like a crafty foe, seeing his doom before him, under the cover 
 of the night he may make a sortie from the garrison, and run for 
 his life. Ignominious as such a course must be, it is often the only 
 one left. 
 
 But to come back. Love, like the small-pox, is most danger- 
 ous when you take it in the natural way. Those made matches, 
 which Heaven is supposed to have a hand in, when placing an un- 
 married gentleman's property in the neighborhood of an unmarried 
 lady's, which destine two people for each other in life, because their 
 well-judging friends have agreed " they'll do very well ; they were 
 made for each other," — these are the mild cases of the malady ; this 
 process of friendly vaccination takes out the poison of the disease, 
 substituting a more harmless and less exciting affection. But the 
 really dangerous instances are those from contact, that same pro- 
 pinquity, that confounded tendency every man yields to, to fall into 
 a railroad of habit ; that is the risk — that is the danger. What a 
 bore it is to find that the absence of one person, with whom you are 
 nowise in love, will spoil your morning's canter, or your rowing 
 party upon the river ! How much put out you are when she to 
 whom you always gave your arm at dinner does not make her 
 appearance in the drawing-room ; and your tea too, some careless 
 one, indifferent to your taste, puts a lump of sugar too little, or 
 cream too much, while she — But no matter ; habit has done for you 
 what no direct influence of beauty could do, and, a slave to your 
 
NEW VIEWS. 673 
 
 own selfish indulgences, and the cultivation of that ease you prize 
 so highly, you fall over head and ears in love. 
 
 Now, you are not, my good reader, by any means to suppose that 
 this was my case. No, no ; I was too much what the world terms 
 the " old soldier" for that. To continue my illustration : like the for- 
 tress that has been often besieged, the sentry upon the walls keeps 
 more vigilant watch ; his ear detects the far-off clank of the dread 
 artillery ; he marks each parallel ; he notes down every breaching 
 battery ; and if he be captured, at least it is in fair fight. 
 
 Such were some of my reflections as I rode slowly home one even- 
 ing from Gurt-na-Morra. Many a time, latterly, had I contrasted 
 my own lonely and deserted hearth with the smiling looks, the 
 happy faces, and the merry voices I had left behind me ; and many 
 a time did I ask myself, " Am I never to partake of a happiness like 
 this ?" How many a man is seduced into matrimony from this very 
 feeling ! How many a man whose hours have passed fleetingly at 
 the pleasant tea-table, or by the warm hearth of some old country- 
 house, going forth into the cold and cheerless night, reaches his far- 
 off home only to find it dark and gloomy, joyless and companion- 
 less ? How often has the hard-visaged look of his old butler, as 
 with sleepy eyes and yawning face he hands a bed-room candle, 
 suggested thoughts of married happiness ? Of the perils of propin- 
 quity I have already spoken; the risks of contrast are also great. 
 Have you never, in strolling through some fragrant and rich con- 
 servatory, fixed your eye upon a fair and lovely flower, whose blos- 
 soming beauty seems to give all the lustre and all the incense of the 
 scene around? and how have you thought it would adorn and grace 
 the precincts of your home, diffusing fragrance on every side. Alas ! 
 the experiment is not always successful. Much of the charm and 
 many of the fascinations which delight you are the result of associ- 
 ation of time and of place. The lovely voice, whose tones have 
 spoken to your heart, may, like some instrument, be delightful in 
 the harmony of the orchestra, but, after all, prove a very middling 
 performer in a duet. 
 
 I say not this to deter men from matrimony, but to warn them 
 from a miscalculation which may mar their happiness. Flirtation 
 is a very fine thing, but it's only a state of transition, after all. The 
 tadpole existence of the lover would be great fun if one was never 
 to become a frog under the hands of the parson. I say all this dis- 
 passionately and advisedly. Like the poet of my country, for many 
 years of my life, 
 
 " My only books were woman's looks," 
 
 and certainly I subscribed to a circulating library. 
 43 
 
674 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 All this long digression may perhaps bring the reader to where it 
 brought me — the very palpable conviction that though not in love 
 with my cousin Baby, I could not tell when I might eventually 
 become so. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 A RECOGNITION. 
 
 THE most pleasing part about retrospect is the memory of our 
 bygone hopes. The past, however happy, however blissful, 
 few would wish to live over again ; but who is there that does 
 not long for, does not pine after, the day-dream which gilded the 
 future — which looked ever forward to the time to come as to a 
 realization of all that was dear to us, lightening our present cares, 
 soothing our passing sorrows, by that one thought? 
 
 Life is marked out in periods in which, like stages in a journey, 
 we rest and repose ourselves, casting a look, now back upon the road 
 we have been travelling, now throwing a keener glance towards the 
 path left us. It is at such spots as these that remembrance comes 
 full upon us, and that we feel how little our intentions have swayed 
 our career or influenced our actions. The aspirations, the resolves 
 of youth, are either looked upon as puerile follies, or a most distant 
 day settled on for their realization. The principles we fondly looked 
 to, like our guide-stars, are dimly visible — not seen ; the friends we 
 cherished are changed and gone ; the scenes themselves seem no 
 longer the sunshine and the shade we loved ; and, in fact, we are 
 living in a new world, where our own altered condition gives the 
 type to all around us ; the only link that binds us to the past being 
 that same memory, that, like a sad curfew, tolls the twilight of our 
 fairest dreams and most cherished wishes. 
 
 That these glimpses of the bygone season of our youth should be 
 but fitful and passing — tinging, not coloring, the landscape of our 
 life — we should be engaged in all the active bustle and turmoil of 
 the world, surrounded by objects of hope, love, and ambition, stem- 
 ming the strong tide in whose fountain is fortune. 
 
 He, however, who lives apart, a dreamy and passionless exist- 
 ence, will find that in the past more than in the future his thoughts 
 have found their resting-place ; memory usurps the place of hope, 
 and he travels through life like one walking onward, his eyes still 
 turning towards some' loved forsaken spot, teeming with all the 
 
A RECOGNITION. 675 
 
 associations of his happiest hours, and preserving even in distance 
 the outline that he loved. 
 
 Distance in time, as in space, smooths down all the inequalities 
 of surface ; and, as the cragged and rugged mountain, darkened by 
 cliff and precipice, shows to the far-off traveller but some blue and 
 misty mass, so the long-lost-sight-of hours lose all the cares and 
 griefs that tinged them, and to our. mental eye are but objects of 
 uniform loveliness and beauty : and if we do not think of 
 
 "The smiles— the tears 
 Of boyhood's years," 
 
 it is because, like April showers, they but chequer the spring of our 
 existence. 
 
 For myself, baffled in hope at a period when most men but begin 
 to feel it, I thought myself much older than I really was. The dis- 
 appointments of the world, like the storms of the ocean, impart a 
 false step of experience to the young heart, as he sails forth upon 
 his voyage; and it is an easy error to mistake trials for time. 
 
 The goods of fortune by which I was surrounded took nothing 
 from the bitterness of my retrospect ; on the contrary, I could not 
 help feeling that every luxury of my life was bought by my sur- 
 render of that career which had elated me in my own esteem, and 
 which, setting a high and noble ambition before me, taught me to 
 be a man. 
 
 To be happy, one must not only fulfil the duties and exactions of 
 his station, but the station itself must answer to his views and aspi- 
 rations in life. Now, mine did not sustain this condition. All that 
 my life had of promise was connected with the memory of her who 
 never could share my fortunes — of her for whom I had earned praise 
 and honor ; becoming ambitious as the road to her affection, only 
 to learn after that my hopes were but a dream, and my paradise a 
 wilderness. 
 
 While thus the inglorious current of my life ran on, I was not 
 indifferent to the mighty events the great continent of Europe was 
 witnessing. The success of the Peninsular campaign ; the triumph- 
 ant entry of the British into France ; the downfall of Napoleon ; 
 the restoration of the Bourbons, followed each other with the 
 rapidity of the most commonplace occurrences; and in the few 
 short years in which I had sprung from boyhood to man's estate, 
 the whole condition of the world was altered. Kings deposed; 
 great armies disbanded; rightful sovereigns restored to their do- 
 minions; banished and exiled men returned to their country, in- 
 vested with rank and riches ; and peace, in the fullest tide of its 
 blessings, poured down upon the devastated and blood-stained earth. 
 
676 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Years passed on ; and between the careless abandonment to the 
 mere amusement of the hour, and the darker meditation upon the 
 past, time slipped away. From my own friends and brother officers 
 I heard but rarely. Power, who at first wrote frequently, grew 
 gradually less and less communicative. Webber, who had gone to 
 Paris at the peace, had written but one letter ; while from the rest 
 a few straggling lines was all I received. In truth, be it told, my 
 own negligence and inability to reply cost me this apparent neglect. 
 
 It was a fine evening in May, when, rigging up a sprit-sail, I 
 jumped into my yawl, and dropped easily down the river. The 
 light wind gently curled the crested water, the trees waved gently 
 and shook their branches in the breeze, and my little bark, bending 
 slightly beneath, rustled on her foamy track with that joyous bound- 
 ing motion so inspiriting to one's heart. The clouds were flying 
 swiftly past, tinging with their shadows the mountains beneath; 
 the Munster shore, glowing with a rich sunlight, showed every 
 sheep-cot and every hedge-row clearly out, while the deep shadow 
 of tall Scariff darkened the silent river where Holy Island, with its 
 ruined churches and melancholy tower, was reflected in the still 
 water. 
 
 It was a thoroughly Irish landscape : the changeful sky ; the fast 
 flitting shadows; the brilliant sunlight; the plenteous fields; the 
 broad and swelling stream ; the dark mountain, from whose brown 
 crest a wreath of thin blue smoke was rising, were all there smiling 
 yet sadly, like her own sons, across whose louring brow some fitful 
 flash of fancy, ever playing, dallies like sunbeams on the darkening 
 stream, nor marks the depth that lies below. 
 
 I sat musing over the strange harmony of nature with the tem- 
 perament of man, every phase of his passionate existence seeming 
 to have its type in things inanimate, when a loud cheer from the 
 land aroused me, and the words " Charley ! Cousin Charley !" came 
 wafted over the water to where I lay. 
 
 For some time I could but distinguish the faint outline of some 
 figures on the shore, but as I came nearer I recognized my fair 
 cousin Baby, who, with a younger brother of some eight or nine 
 years old, was taking an evening walk. 
 
 "Do you know, Charley," said she, "the boys have gone over to 
 the castle to look for you ; we want you particularly this evening." 
 
 " Indeed, Baby ! Well, I fear you must make my excuses." 
 
 "Then, once for all, I will not. I know this is one of your 
 sulky moods, and I tell you frankly I'll not put up with them any 
 more." 
 
 " No, no, Baby, not so ; out of spirits if you will, but not out of 
 •temper." 
 
A RECOGNITION. 677 
 
 "The distinction is much too fine for me, if there be any; but 
 there, now, do be a good fellow ; come up with us — come up with 
 me!" 
 
 As she said this she placed her arm within mine. I thought, 
 too — perhaps it was but a thought — she pressed me gently. I know 
 she blushed, and turned away her head to hide it. 
 ' " I don't pretend to be proof against your entreaty, cousin Baby," 
 said I, with half-affected gallantry, putting her fingers to my lips. 
 
 " There, how can you be so foolish ; look at William, yonder ; I 
 am sure he must have seen you." But, William, God bless him ! 
 was bird's-nesting, or butterfly-hunting, or daisy-picking, or some- 
 thing of that kind. 
 
 Oh ye young brothers, "who, sufficiently old to be deemed com- 
 panions and chaperons, but yet young enough to be regarded as 
 having neither eyes nor ears, what mischief have ye to answer for ! 
 what a long reckoning of tender speeches, of soft looks, of pressed 
 hands, lies at your door! What an incentive to flirtation is the 
 wily imp who turns ever and anon from his careless gambols to 
 throw his laughter-loving eyes upon you, calling up the mantling 
 blush to both your cheeks ! He seems to chronicle the hours of 
 your dalliance, making your secrets known unto each other. We 
 have gone through our share of flirtation in this life. Match-making 
 mothers, prying aunts, choleric uncles, benevolent and open-hearted 
 fathers, we understand to the life, and care no more for such man- 
 traps than a Melton man, well-mounted on his strong-boned tho- 
 roughbred, does for a four-barred ox-fence that lies before him. 
 Like him, we take them flying ; never relaxing the slapping stride 
 of our loose gallop, we go straight ahead, never turning aside, except 
 for a laugh at those who flounder in the swamps we sneer at. But 
 we confess honestly we fear the little brother, the small urchin who, 
 with nankeen trousers and three rows of buttons, performs the part 
 of Cupid. He strikes real terror into our hearts ; he it is who, with 
 a cunning wink, or sly smile, seems to confirm the soft nonsense we 
 are weaving ; by some slight gesture he seems to check off the long 
 reckoning of our attentions, bringing us every moment nearer to 
 the time when the score must be settled and the debt paid. He it 
 is who, by a memory delightfully oblivious of his task and his table- 
 book, is tenacious to the life of what you said to Fanny ; how you 
 put your head under Lucy's bonnet; he can imitate to perfection 
 the way you kneeled upon the grass ; and the wretch has learned to 
 smack his lips like a gourmand, that he may convey another stage 
 of your proceeding. 
 
 Oh, for infant schools for everything under the age of ten ! Oh, 
 for factories for the children of the rich ! The age of prying curi- 
 
678 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 osity is from four-and-a-half to nine, and Fouche himself might get 
 a lesson in police from an urchin in his alphabet. 
 
 I contrived soon, however, to forget the presence of even the little 
 brother. The night was falling; Baby appeared getting fatigued 
 with her walk, for she leaned somewhat more heavily upon my arm, 
 and I — I cannot tell wherefore — fell into that train of thinking 
 aloud which, somehow, upon a summer's eve, with a fair girl beside 
 one, is the very nearest thing to love-making. 
 
 "There, Charley — don't now — ah, don't! — do let go my hand— 
 they are coming down the avenue." 
 
 I had scarcely time to obey the injunction, when Mr. Blake called 
 out: 
 
 " Well, indeed ! Charley, this is really fortunate ; we have got a 
 friend to take tea with us, and wanted you to meet him." 
 
 Muttering an internal prayer for something not exactly the wel- 
 fare of the aforesaid friend, whom I judged to be some Galway 
 squire, I professed aloud the pleasure I felt in having come in so 
 opportunely. 
 
 " He wishes particularly to make your acquaintance." 
 
 "So much the worse," thought I to myself; "it rarely happens 
 that this feeling is mutual." 
 
 Evidently provoked at the little curiosity I exhibited, Blake 
 .added, 
 
 "He's on his way to Fermoy with a detachment." 
 
 " Indeed ! what regiment, pray ?" 
 
 " The 28th Foot." 
 
 " Ah ! I don't know them." 
 
 By this time we reached the steps of the hall-door, and just as we 
 did so, the door opened suddenly, and a tall figure in uniform pre- 
 sented himself. With one spring he seized my hand and nearly 
 wrung it off. 
 
 " Why, what," said I, " can this be? Is it really -" 
 
 " Sparks," said he — " your old friend Sparks, my boy ; I've changed 
 Into the infantry, and here I am. Heard by chance you were in the 
 neighborhood — met Mr. Blake, your friend here, at the inn, and 
 accepted his invitation to meet you." 
 
 Poor Sparks, albeit the difference of his costume, was the same as 
 ever. Having left the 14th soon after I quitted them, he knew but 
 little of their fortunes ; and he himself had been on recruiting stations 
 nearly the whole time since we had met before. 
 
 While we each continued to extol the good fortune of the other — 
 he mine as being no longer in the service, and I his for still being 
 so — we learned the various changes which had happened to each of 
 us during our separation. Although his destination was ultimately 
 
A RECOGNITION. 679 
 
 Fermoy, Portumna was ordered to be his present quarter ; and I 
 felt delighted to have once more an old companion within reach, to 
 chat over former days of campaigning and nights of merriment in 
 the Peninsula, 
 
 Sparks soon became a constant visitor and guest at Gurt-na-Morra ; 
 his good temper, his easy habits, his simplicity of character, rapidly 
 enabled him to fall into all their ways ; and, although evidently not 
 what Baby would call " the man for Gal way," he endeavored with, 
 all his might to please every one, and certainly succeeded to a con- 
 siderable extent. 
 
 Baby alone seemed to take pleasure in tormenting the poor sub. 
 Long before she met with him, having heard much from me of his 
 exploits abroad, she was continually bringing up some anecdote 
 of his unhappy loves or misplaced passions, which he evidently 
 smarted under the more from the circumstance that he appeared 
 rather inclined to like my fair cousin. 
 
 As she continued this for some time, I remarked that Sparks, who 
 at first was all gayety and high spirits, grew gradually more de- 
 pressed and dispirited. I became convinced that the poor fellow 
 was in love ; very little management on my part was necessary to 
 obtain his confession ; and, accordingly, the same evening the 
 thought first struck me, as we were riding slowly home towards 
 O'Malley Castle, I touched at first generally upon the merits of the 
 Blakes, their hospitality, &c. ; then diverged to the accomplishments 
 and perfections of the girls ; and, lastly, Baby herself, in all form, 
 came up for sentence. 
 
 "Ah, yes !" said Sparks, with a deep sigh, "it is quite as you say ; 
 she is a lovely girl ; and that liveliness in her character, that elasti- 
 city in her temperament, chastened down as it might be by the feel- 
 ing of respect for the man she loved ! I say, Charley, is it a very 
 long attachment of yours ?" 
 
 " A long attachment of mine ! Why, my dear Sparks, you can't 
 suppose that there is anything between us ! I pledge you my word 
 most faithfully." 
 
 "Oh no, don't tell me that; what good can there be in mystifying 
 me?" 
 
 " I have no such intention, believe me. My cousin Baby, however 
 I like and admire her, has no other place in my affection than a very 
 charming girl, who has lightened a great many dreary and tiresome 
 hours, and made my banishment from the world less irksome than I 
 should have found it without her." 
 
 "And you are really not in love ?" 
 
 "Not a bit of it!" 
 
 "Not going to marry her either?" 
 
680 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Not the least notion of it ! — a fact. Baby and I are excellent 
 friends, for the very reason that we were never lovers ; we have had 
 no petitsjeux of fallings out and makings up; no hicle-and-seek trials 
 of affected indifference and real disappointments; no secrets, no 
 griefs nor grudges ; neither quarrels nor keepsakes. In fact, we are 
 capital cousins; quizzing every one for our own amusement; riding, 
 walking, boating together; in fact, doing and thinking of every- 
 thing save sighs and declarations ; always happy to meet, and never 
 broken-hearted when we part. And I can only add, as a proof of 
 my sincerity, that if you feel as I suspect you do from your questions, 
 I'll be your ambassador to the court of Gurt-na-Morra with sincere 
 pleasure." 
 
 "Will you really? — Will you indeed, Charley, do this for me? — 
 Will you strengthen my wishes by your aid, and give me all your in- 
 fluence with the family ?" 
 
 I could scarcely help smiling at poor Sparks's eagerness or the un- 
 warrantable value he put upon my alliance, in a case where his own 
 unassisted efforts did not threaten much failure. 
 
 " I repeat it, Sparks, I'll make a proposal for you in all form, 
 aided and abetted by everything recommendatory and laudatory I 
 can think of; I'll talk of you as a Peninsular of no small note and 
 promise ; and observe rigid silence about your Welsh flirtation and 
 your Spanish elopement. " 
 
 " You'll not blab about the Dalrymples, I hope ?" 
 
 " Trust me ; I only hope you will always be as discreet. But now — 
 when shall it be ? Should you like to consider the matter more?" 
 
 " Oh no ! nothing of the kind ; let it be to-morrow ; at once, if I 
 am to fail ; even that, anything's better than suspense." 
 
 " Well then, to-morrow be it," said I. 
 
 So I wished him a good-night, and a stout heart to bear his for- 
 tune withal. 
 
 CHAPTEE L. 
 
 A MISTAKE. 
 
 IORDEBED my horses at an early hour ; and long before Sparks 
 — lover that he was — had opened his eyes to the light, was 
 already on my way towards Gurt-na-Morra. Several miles 
 slipped away before I well determined how I should open my nego- 
 tiations : whether to papa Blake, in the first instance, or to madame, 
 
A MISTAKE. 681 
 
 to whose peculiar province these secrets of the home department 
 belonged; or why not at once to Baby? because, after all, with her 
 it rested finally to accept or refuse. To address myself to the heads 
 of the department seemed the more formal course; and, as I was 
 acting entirely as an " Envoy Extraordinary," I deemed this the fit- 
 ting mode of proceeding. 
 
 It was exactly eight o'elock as I drove up to the door. Mr. Blake 
 was standing at the open window of the breakfast-room, sniffing the 
 fresh air of the morning. The Blake mother was busily engaged 
 with the economy of the tea-table ; a very simple style of morning 
 costume, and a nightcap with a flounce like a petticoat, marking her 
 unaffected toilette. Above stairs, more than one head en papillose 
 took a furtive peep between the curtains; and the butler of the 
 family, in corduroys and a fur cap, was weeding turnips in the lawn 
 before the door. 
 
 Mrs. Blake had barely time to take a hurried departure, when her 
 husband came out upon the steps to bid me welcome. There is no 
 physiognomist like your father of a family, or your mother with 
 marriageable daughters. Lavater was nothing to them, in reading 
 the secret springs of action — the hidden sources of all character. 
 Had there been a good respectable bump allotted by Spurzheim to 
 " honorable intentions," the matter had been all fair and easy, — the 
 very first salute of the gentleman would have pronounced upon his 
 views; but, alas ! no such guide is forthcoming ; and the science, as 
 it now exists, is enveloped in doubt and difficulty. The gay, laugh- 
 ing temperament of some, the dark and serious composure of others ; 
 the cautious and reserved, the open and the candid, the witty, the 
 sententious, the clever, the dull, the prudent, the reckless — in a 
 word, every variety which the innumerable hues of character im- 
 print upon the human face divine, are their study. Their convic- 
 tions are the slow and patient fruits of intense observation and 
 great logical accuracy. Carefully noting down eVery lineament and 
 feature, — their change, their action, and their development, — they 
 track a lurking motive with the scent of a bloodhound, and run 
 down a growing passion with an unrelenting speed. I have been 
 in the witness-box, exposed to the licensed badgering and privileged 
 impertinence of a lawyer ; winked, leered, frowned, and sneered at 
 with all the long-practised tact of a Nisi Prius torturer ; I have 
 stood before the cold, fish-like, but searching eye of a prefect of 
 police, as he compared my passport with my person, and thought 
 he could detect a discrepancy in both ; but I never felt the same 
 sense of total exposure as when glanced at by the half-curious, 
 half-prying look of a worthy father or mother in a family where 
 there are daughters to marry, and " nobody coming to woo." 
 
682 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 "You're early, Charley," said Mr. Blake, with an affected mixture 
 of carelessness and warmth. " You have not had breakfast?" 
 
 " No, sir. I have come to claim a part of yours ; and, if I mis- 
 take not, you seem a little later than usual." 
 
 "Not more than a few minutes. The girls will be down pres- 
 ently ; they're early risers, Charley ; good habits are just as easy as 
 bad ones ; and, the Lord be praised I my girls were never brought 
 up with any other." 
 
 " I am well aware of it, sir ; and, indeed, if I may be permitted 
 to take advantage of the a propos, it was on the subject of one of 
 your daughters that I wished to speak to you this morning, and 
 which brought me over at this uncivilized hour, hoping to find 
 you alone." 
 
 Mr. Blake's look for a moment was one of triumphant satisfaction ; 
 it was but a glance, however, and repressed the very instant after, 
 as he said, with a well got-up indifference. 
 
 " Just step with me into the study, and we're sure not to be in- 
 terrupted." 
 
 Now, although I have little time or space for such dallying, I 
 cannot help dwelling for a moment upon the aspect of what Mr. 
 Blake dignified with the name of his study. It was a small apart- 
 ment with one window, the panes of which, independent of all 
 aid from a curtain, tempered the daylight through the medium 
 of cobwebs, dust, and the ill-trained branches of some wall-tree 
 without. 
 
 Three oak chairs and a small table were the only articles of fur- 
 niture ; while round on all sides, lay the disjecta membra of Mr. 
 Blake's hunting, fishing, shooting, and coursing equipments — old 
 top boots, driving whips, odd spurs, a racing saddle, a blunderbuss, 
 the helmet of the Gal way Light Horse, a salmon net, a large map 
 of the county with a marginal index to several mortgages marked 
 with a cross, a stable lantern, the rudder of a boat, and several 
 other articles representative of his daily associations ; but not one 
 book, save an odd volume of Watty Cox's Magazine, whose pages 
 seemed as much the receptacle of brown hackles for trout-fishing as 
 the resource of literary leisure. 
 
 " Here we'll be quite cosy, and to ourselves," said Mr. Blake, as, 
 placing a chair for me, he sat down himself, with the air of a man 
 resolved to assist, by advice and counsel, the dilemma of some 
 dear friend. 
 
 After a few preliminary observations, which, like a breathing canter 
 before a race, serve to get your courage up, and settle you well in 
 your seat, I opened my» negotiations by some very broad and sweep- 
 ing truism about the misfortunes of a bachelor existence, the dis- 
 
A MISTAKE. 683 
 
 comforts of his position, his want of home and happiness, the 
 necessity for his one day thinking seriously about marriage; it 
 being in a measure almost as inevitable a termination of the free- 
 and-easy career of his single life as transportation for seven years 
 is to that of a poacher. " You cannot go on, sir," said I, " tres- 
 passing forever upon your neighbor's preserves, you must be appre- 
 hended sooner or later ; therefore, I think, the better way is to take 
 out a license." 
 
 Never was a small sally of wit more thoroughly successful. Mr. 
 Blake laughed till he cried, and, when he had done, wiped his eyes 
 with a snuffy handkerchief, and cried till he laughed again. As, 
 somehow, I could not conceal from myself a suspicion as to the sin- 
 cerity of my friend's mirth, I merely consoled myself with the 
 French adage, that " he laughs best who laughs last,*" and went on. 
 
 " It will not be deemed surprising, sir, that a man should come 
 to the discovery I have just mentioned much more rapidly by hav- 
 ing enjoyed the pleasure or intimacy with your family ; not only by 
 the example of perfect domestic happiness presented to him, but by 
 the prospect held out that a heritage of the fair gifts which adorn 
 and grace a married life may reasonably be looked for among the 
 daughters of those themselves the realization of conjugal felicity." 
 
 Here was a canter, with a vengeance; and as I felt blown, I 
 slackened my pace, coughed, and resumed : 
 
 " Miss Mary Blake, sir, is, then, the object of my present commu- 
 nication ; she it is who has made an existence that seemed fair and 
 pleasurable before, appear blank and unprofitable without her. I 
 have, therefore, to come at once to the point, visited you this morn- 
 ing, formally to ask her hand in marriage ; her fortune, I may 
 observe at once, is perfectly immaterial — a matter of no consequence 
 (so Mr. Blake thought also); a competence fully equal to every 
 reasonable notion of expenditure n 
 
 "There — there; don't — don't," said Mr. Blake, wiping his eyes, 
 with a sob like a hiccup ; " don't speak of money, I know what you 
 would say ; a handsome settlement — a well-secured jointure, and all 
 that. Yes, yes, I feel it all." 
 
 " Why yes, sir, I believe I may add, that everything in this re- 
 spect will answer your expectations." 
 
 " Of course ; to be sure. My poor dear Baby ! How to do with- 
 out her, that's the rub. You don't know, O'Malley, what that girl 
 is to me — you can't know it ; you'll feel it one day though — that 
 you will." 
 
 " The devil I shall !" said I to myself. " The great point is, after 
 all, to learn the young lady's disposition in the matter " 
 
 "Ah, Charley ! none of this with me, you sly dog ! You think I 
 
684 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 don't know you. Why, I've been watching — that is, I have seen— 
 no, I mean I've heard — they — they, people will talk, you know." 
 
 " Very true, sir. But, as I was going to remark " 
 
 Just at this moment the door opened, and Miss Baby herself, 
 looking most annoyingly handsome, put in her head. 
 
 " Papa, we're waiting breakfast. Ah, Charley, how d'ye do !" 
 
 " Come in, Baby," said Mr. Blake ; " you haven't given me my 
 kiss this morning." 
 
 The lovely girl threw her arms around his neck, while her bright 
 and flowing locks fell richly upon his shoulder. I turned rather 
 sulkily away ; the thing always provokes me. There is as much 
 cold, selfish cruelty in such coram publico endearments as in the lus- 
 cious display of rich rounds and sirloins in a chop-house to the eyes 
 of the starved and penniless wretch without, who, with dripping 
 rags and watering lip, eats imaginary slices, while the pains of hun- 
 ger are torturing him ! 
 
 " There's Tim !" said Mr. Blake, suddenly. " Tim Cronin !— Tim !" 
 shouted he to, as it seemed to me, an imaginary individual outside, 
 while, in the eagerness of pursuit, he rushed out of the study, bang- 
 ing the door as he went, and leaving Baby and myself to our mutual 
 edification. 
 
 I should have preferred it being otherwise ; but, as the Fates willed 
 it thus, I took Baby's hand, and led her to the window. Now, there 
 is one feature of my countrymen which, having recognized strongly 
 in myself, I would fain proclaim ; and, writing as I do — however 
 little people may suspect me — solely for the sake of a moral, would 
 gladly warn the unsuspecting against. I mean a very decided ten- 
 dency to become the consoler, the confidant of young ladies ; seeking 
 out opportunities of assuaging their sorrow, reconciling their afflic- 
 tions, breaking eventful passages to their ears ; not from any inher- 
 ent pleasure in the tragic phases of the intercourse, but for the 
 semi -tenderness of manner, that harmless hand-squeezing, that 
 innocent waist-pressing, without which consolation is but like 
 salmon without lobster— a thing maimed, wanting, and imperfect. 
 
 Now, whether this with me was a natural gift, or merely a " way 
 we have in the army," as the song says, I shall not pretend to say ; 
 but I venture to affirm that few men could excel me in the practice 
 I speak of some five-and twenty -years ago. Fair reader, do pray, if 
 I have the happiness of being known to you, deduct them from my 
 age before you subtract from my merits. 
 
 "Well, Baby dear, I have just been speaking about you to papa. 
 Yes, dear, — don't look so incredulous — even of your own sweet self. 
 Well, do you know I almost prefer your hair worn that way ; those 
 same silky masses look better falling thus heavily " 
 
A MISTAKE. G85 
 
 " There, now, Charley ! ah, don't !" 
 
 " Well, Baby, as I was saying, before you stopped me, I have been 
 asking your papa a very important question, and he has referred me 
 to you for the answer. And now will you tell me, in all frankness 
 and honesty, your mind on the matter ?" 
 
 She grew deadly pale as I spoke these words, then suddenly 
 flushed up again, but said not a word. I could perceive, however, 
 from her heaving chest and restless manner, that no common agita- 
 tion was stirring her bosom. It was cruelty to be silent, so I con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " One who loves you well, Baby dear, has asked his own heart 
 the question, and learned that without you he has no chance of hap- 
 piness ; that your bright eyes are to him bluer than the deep sky 
 above him ; that your soft voice, your winning smile, — and what a 
 smile it is I — have taught him that he loves, nay, adores you ! 
 Then, dearest, — what pretty fingers those are ! Ah ! what is this ? 
 Whence came that emerald ? I never saw that ring before, Baby !" 
 
 " Oh, that," said she, blushing deeply, — " that is a ring the foolish 
 creature Sparks gave me a couple of days ago ; but I don't like it — 
 I don't intend to keep it." 
 
 So saying, she endeavored to draw it from her finger, but in 
 vain. 
 
 " But why, Baby, why take it off? Is it to give him the pleasure 
 of putting it on again ? There, don't look angry ; we must not fall 
 out, surely." 
 
 "No, Charley, if you are not vexed with me, — if you are 
 not " 
 
 " No, no, my dear Baby — nothing of the kind. Sparks was quite 
 right in not trusting his entire fortune to my diplomacy ; but at 
 least he ought to have told me that he had opened the negotiation. 
 Now, the question simply is — Do you love him ? or, rather, because 
 that shortens matters, will you accept him?" 
 
 " Love whom ?" 
 
 " Love whom ? Why, Sparks, to be sure !" 
 
 A flash of indignant surprise passed across her features, now pale 
 as marble ; her lips were slightly parted, her large full eyes were 
 fixed upon me steadfastly, and her hand, which I had held in mine, 
 she suddenly withdrew from my grasp. 
 
 " And so — and so it is of Mr. Sparks's cause you are so ardently 
 the advocate ?" said she, at length, after a pause of most awkward 
 duration. 
 
 " Why, of course, my dear cousin. It was at his suit and solicita- 
 tion I called on your father ; it was he himself who entreated me to 
 take this step ; it was he " 
 
b«b CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 But before I could conclude, she burst into a torrent of tears, and 
 rushed from the room. 
 
 Here was a situation I What the deuce was the matter ? Did she 
 or did she not care for him ? Was her pride or her delicacy hurt at 
 my being made the means of the communication to her father? 
 What had Sparks done or said to put himself and me in such a devil 
 of a predicament ? Could she care for any one else ? 
 
 " Well, Charley !" cried Mr. Blake, as he entered, rubbing his 
 hands in a perfect paroxysm of good temper — " well, Charley, has 
 love-making driven breakfast out of your head ?" 
 
 "Why, faith, sir, I greatly fear I have blundered my mission 
 sadly. My cousin Mary does not appear so perfectly satisfied ; her 
 manner " 
 
 " Don't tell me such nonsense. The girl's manner. ! Why, man, 
 I thought you were too old a soldier to be taken in that way." 
 
 " Well, then, sir, the best thing, under the circumstances, is to 
 send over Sparks himself. Your consent, I may tell him, is already 
 obtained." 
 
 " Yes, my boy ; and my daughter's is equally sure. But I don't 
 see what we want with Sparks at all. Among old friends and rela- 
 tives, as we are, there is, I think, no need of a stranger." 
 
 " A stranger ! Very true, sir, he is a stranger ; but when that 
 stranger is about to become your son-in-law " 
 
 " About to become what ?" said Mr. Blake, rubbing his spectacles, 
 and placing them leisurely on his nose to regard me, — " to become 
 what?" 
 
 "Your son-in-law. I hope I have been sufficiently explicit, sir, 
 in making known Mr. Sparks's wishes to you." 
 
 " Mr. Sparks ! Why, d — me, sir, — that is — I beg pardon for the 
 warmth — you — you never mentioned his name to-day till now. You 
 led me to suppose that — in fact you told me most clearly " 
 
 Here, from the united effects of rage and a struggle for conceal- 
 ment, Mr. Blake was unable to proceed, and walked the room with 
 a melodramatic stamp perfectly awful. 
 
 " Really, sir," said I at last, " while I deeply regret any miscon- 
 ception or mistake I have been the cause of, I must, in justice to 
 myself, say that I am perfectly unconscious of having misled you. 
 I came here this morning with a proposition for the hand of your 
 daughter in behalf of " 
 
 " Yourself, sir. Yes, yourself. I'll be— no ! I'll not swear ; but— 
 but just answer me if you ever mentioned one word of Mr. Sparks — 
 if you ever alluded to him till the last few minutes ?" 
 
 I was perfectly astounded. It might be ; alas ! it was exactly as 
 he stated. In my unlucky effort at extreme delicacy, I became only 
 
A MISTAKE. 687 
 
 so very mysterious, that I left the matter open for them to suppose 
 that it might be the Khan of Tartary who was in love with Baby. 
 
 There was but one course now open. I most humbly apologized 
 for my blunder, repeated, by every expression I could summon up, 
 my sorrow for what had happened, and was beginning a renewal of 
 negotiation "in re Sparks," when, overcome by his passion, Mr. 
 Blake could hear no more, but snatched up his hat and left the 
 room. 
 
 Had it not been for Baby's share in the transaction, I should have 
 laughed outright. As it was, I felt anything but mirthful ; and the 
 only clear and collected idea in my mind was, to hurry home with 
 all speed, and fasten a quarrel on Sparks, the innocent cause of the 
 whole mishap. Why this thought struck me, let physiologists 
 decide. 
 
 A few moments' reflection satisfied me that, under present cir- 
 cumstances, it would be particularly awkward to meet with any 
 others of the family. Ardently desiring to secure my retreat, I suc- 
 ceeded, after some little time, in opening the window-sash, con- 
 soling myself for any injury I was about to inflict upon Mr. Blake's 
 young plantation in my descent, by the thought of the service 
 I was rendering him, while also admitting a little fresh air into his 
 sanctum. 
 
 For my patriotism's sake I will not record my sensations as I took 
 my way through the shrubbery towards the stable. Men are ever 
 so prone to revenge their faults and their follies upon such inoffen- 
 sive agencies as time and place, wind or weather, that I was quite 
 convinced that to any other but Galway ears my expose would have 
 been perfectly clear and intelligible, and that in no other country 
 under heaven would a man be expected to marry a young lady from 
 a blunder in his grammar. 
 
 "Baby may be quite right," thought I ; "but one thing is assur- 
 edly true— if I'll never do for Galway, Galway will never do for me. 
 No, hang it ! I have endured enough for above two years. I have 
 lived in banishment, away from society, supposing that, at least, if 
 I isolated myself from the pleasures of the world, I w r as exempt 
 from its annoyances." But no ; in the seclusion of my remote 
 abode, troubles found their entrance as easily as elsewhere, so that 
 I determined at once to leave home — where for, I knew not. If 
 life had few charms, it had still fewer ties for me. If I was not 
 bound by the bonds of kindred, I was untrammelled by their re- 
 straints. 
 
 The resolution once taken, I burned to put it into effect ; and so 
 impatiently did I press forward, as to call forth more than one re- 
 monstrance on the part of Mike at the pace we were proceeding at. 
 
688 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 As I neared home, the shrill but stirring sounds of drum and fife 
 met me, and shortly after a crowd of country people filled the road. 
 Supposing it some mere recruiting party, I was endeavoring to press 
 on, when the sounds of a full military band, in the exhilarating 
 measure of a quickstep, convinced me of my error ; and, as I drew 
 to one side of the road, the advanced guard of an infantry regiment 
 came forward. The men's faces were flushed, their uniforms dusty 
 and travel-stained, their knapsacks strapped firmly on, and their 
 gait the steady tramp of the march. Saluting the subaltern, I asked 
 if anything of consequence had occurred in the south, that the 
 troops were so suddenly under orders. The officer stared at me for 
 a moment or two without speaking, and, while a slight smile curled 
 his lip, then answered, — 
 
 "Apparently, sir, you seem very indifferent to military news, 
 otherwise you can scarcely be ignorant of the cause of our route." 
 
 " On the contrary," said I, " I am, though a young man, an old 
 soldier, and feel most anxious about everything connected with the 
 service." 
 
 " Then it is very strange, sir, you should not have heard the news. 
 Bonaparte has returned from Elba, has arrived at Paris, been re- 
 ceived with the most overwhelming enthusiasm, and at this moment 
 the preparations for war are resounding from Venice to the Vistula. 
 All our disposable forces are on the march for embarkation. Lord 
 Wellington has taken the command, and already, I may say, the 
 campaign has begun." 
 
 The tone of enthusiasm in which the young officer spoke, the 
 astounding intelligence itself, contrasting with the apathetic indo- 
 lence of my own life, made me blush deeply, as I muttered some 
 miserable apology for my ignorance. 
 
 "And you are now en route?" 
 
 " For Fermoy, from which we march to Cove for embarkation. 
 The first battalion of our regiment sailed for the West Indies a week 
 since, but a frigate has been sent after them to bring them back; 
 and we hope all to meet in the Netherlands before the month is 
 over. But I must beg your pardon for saying adieu. Good-bye, 
 sir." 
 
 " Good-bye, sir ; good-bye ;" said I, as, still standing in the road, 
 I was so overwhelmed with surprise that I could scarcely credit my 
 senses. 
 
 A little further on I came up with the main body of the regiment, 
 from whom I learned the corroboration of the news, and also the 
 additional intelligence that Sparks had been ordered off with his 
 detachment early in the morning, a veteran battalion being sent 
 into garrison in the various towns of the south and west. 
 
BRUSSELS. 689 
 
 "Do you happen to know a Mr. O'Malley, sir?" said the Major, 
 coming up with a note in his hand. 
 
 " I beg to present him to you," said I, bowing. 
 
 "Well, sir, Sparks gave me this note, which he wrote with a 
 pencil as we crossed each other on the road this morning. He told 
 me you were an old 14th man ; but your regiment is in India, I 
 believe ; at least Power said they were under orders when we met 
 him." 
 
 " Fred Power ! are you acquainted with him ? Where is he now, 
 pray?" 
 
 " Fred is on the staff with General Yandeleur, and is now in Bel- 
 gium." 
 
 " Indeed !" said I, every moment increasing my surprise at some 
 new piece of intelligence. "And the 88th?" said I, recurring to my 
 old friends in that regiment. 
 
 " Oh, the 88th are at Gibraltar or somewhere in the Mediterra- 
 nean : at least, I know they are not near enough to open the present 
 campaign with us. But if you'd like to hear any more news, you 
 must come over to Borrisokane ; we stop there to-night." 
 
 "Then I'll certainly do so." 
 
 " Come at six, then, and dine with us." 
 
 "Agreed," said I; "and now, good-morning." 
 
 So saying, I once more drove on ; my head full of all that I had 
 been hearing, and my heart bursting with eagerness to join the gal- 
 lant fellows now bound for the campaign. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 BRUSSELS. 
 
 I MUST not protract a tale already far too long by the recital of 
 my acquaintance with the gallant 26th. It is sufficient that I 
 should say that, having given Mike orders to follow me to Cove, 
 I joined the regiment on their march, and accompanied them to 
 Cork. Every hour of each day brought us in news of moment and 
 importance ; and, amid all the stirring preparations for the war, the 
 account of the splendid spectacle of the Champ de Mai burst upon 
 astonished Europe, and the intelligence spread far and near that 
 the enthusiasm of France never rose higher in favor of the Em*- 
 peror ; and, while the whole world made preparations for the deadly 
 44 
 
690 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 combat, Napoleon surpassed even himself, by the magnificent con- 
 ceptions for the coming conflict, and the stupendous nature of 
 those plans by which he resolved on resisting combined and united 
 Europe. 
 
 While our admiration and wonder of the mighty spirit that ruled 
 the destinies of the Continent rose high, so did our own ardent and 
 burning desire for the day when the open field of fight should place 
 us once more in front of each other. 
 
 Every hard-fought engagement of the Spanish war was thought 
 of and talked over ; from Talavera to Toulouse, all was remembered ; 
 and while among the old Peninsulars the military ardor was so uni- 
 versally displayed, among the regiments who had not shared the 
 glories of Spain and Portugal, an equal, perhaps a greater, impulse 
 was created for the approaching campaign. . 
 
 When we arrived at Cork, the scene of bustle and excitement ex- 
 ceeded anything I ever witnessed. Troops were mustering in every 
 quarter; regiments arriving and embarking; fresh bodies of men 
 pouring in ; drills, parades, and inspections going forward ; arms, 
 ammunition, and military stores distributing ; and, amid all, a spirit 
 of burning enthusiasm animated every rank for the approaching 
 glory of the newly-arisen war. 
 
 While thus each was full of his own hopes and expectations, I 
 alone felt depressed and downhearted. My military caste was lost 
 to me forever ; my regiment many, many a mile from the scene of 
 the coming strife; though young, I felt like one already old and 
 bygone. The last-joined ensign seemed, in his glowing aspiration, 
 a better soldier than I, as, sad and dispirited, I wandered through 
 the busy crowds, surveying with curious eye each gallant horseman 
 as he rode proudly past. What were wealth and fortune to me? 
 What had they ever been, compared with all they cost me ? — the 
 abandonment of the career I loved — the path in life I sought and 
 panted for? Day after day I lingered on, watching with beating 
 heart each detachment as they left the shore ; and when their part- 
 ing cheer rang high above the breeze, I turned sadly back to mourn 
 over a life that had failed in its promise, and an existence now 
 shorn of its enjoyment. 
 
 It was on the evening of the 3d of June that I was slowly wending 
 my way back towards my hotel ; latterly I had refused all invita- 
 tions to dine at the mess; and, by a strange spirit of contradiction, 
 while I avoided society, could not yet tear myself away from the 
 spot where every remembrance of my past life was daily embittered 
 by the scenes around me. But so it was ; the movement of the 
 troops, their reviews, their arrivals and departures, possessed the 
 most thrilling interest for me; while I could not endure to hear 
 
BRUSSELS. 691 
 
 the mention of the high hopes and glorious vows each brave fellow 
 muttered. 
 
 It was, as I remember, on the evening of the 3d of June, I entered 
 my hotel, lower in spirits even than usual ; the bugles of the gallant 
 71st, as they dropped down v/ith the tide, played a well-known march 
 I had heard the night before Talavera; all my bold and hardy days 
 came rushing madly to my mind ; and my present life seemed no 
 longer endurable. The last Army List and the newspapers lay on 
 my table, and I turned to read the latest promotions with that feel- 
 ing of bitterness by which an unhappy man loves to tamper with 
 his misery. 
 
 Almost the first paragraph I threw my eyes upon ran thus : — 
 
 " Ostend, May 24. — The sloop-of-war Vixen, which arrived at 
 our port this morning, brought, among several other officers of in- 
 ferior note, Lieutenant-General Sir George Dashwood, appointed as 
 Assistant- Adjutant-General on the staff of his Grace the Duke of 
 Wellington. The gallant General was accompanied by his lovely 
 and accomplished daughter, and his military secretary and aide-de- 
 camp, Major Hammersley, of the 2d Life Guards. They partook of 
 a hurried dgjeunt with the Burgomaster, and left immediately after 
 for Brussels." 
 
 Twice I read this over, while a burning, hot sensation settled upon 
 my throat and temples. "So Hammersley still persists — he still 
 hopes. And what then ? — what can it be to me? My prospects have 
 long since faded and vanished ! doubtless, ere this, I am as much 
 forgotten as though we had never met, — would that we never had!" 
 I threw up the window-sash ; a light breeze was gently stirring, and, 
 as it fanned my hot and bursting head, I felt cool and relieved. 
 Some soldiers were talking beneath the window, and among them I 
 recognized Mike's voice. 
 
 " And so you sail at daybreak, sergeant ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Free ; we have our orders to be on board before the 
 flood-tide. The Thunderer drops down the harbor to-night, and we 
 are merely here to collect our stragglers." 
 
 " Faix, it's little I thought I'd ever envy a sodger any more ; but, 
 some way, I wish I was going with you." 
 
 "Nothing easier, Mike," said another, laughing. 
 
 " Oh, true for you, but that's not the way I'd like to do it. If my 
 master, now, would just get over his low spirits, and spake a word 
 to the Duke of York, devil a doubt but he'd give him his commis- 
 sion back again, and then one might go in comfort." 
 
 " Your master likes his feather pillow better than a mossy stone 
 under his head, I'm thinking ; and he ain't far wrong, either." 
 
692 CHAJILES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " You're out there, neighbor. It's himself cares as little for hard- 
 ships as any one of you; and sure it's not becoming me to say it, 
 but the best blood and the best bred was always the last to give in 
 for either cold or hunger, ay, or even complain of it." 
 
 Mike's few words shot upon me a new and a sudden conviction — 
 what was to prevent my joining once more ? Obvious as such a 
 thought now was, yet never until this moment did it present itself 
 so palpably. So habituated does the mind become to a certain train 
 of reasoning, framing its convictions according to one preconceived 
 plan, and making every fact and every circumstance concur in 
 strengthening what may be but a prejudice, that the absence of the 
 old 14th in India, the sale of my commission, the want of rank in 
 the service, all seemed to present an insurmountable barrier to my 
 re-entering the army. A few chance words now changed all this, 
 and I saw that, as a volunteer, at least, the path of glory was still 
 open, and the thought was no sooner conceived than the resolve to 
 execute it. While, therefore, I walked hurriedly up and down, de- 
 vising, planning, plotting, and contriving, each instant I would 
 stop to ask myself how it happened I had not determined upon this 
 before. 
 
 As I summoned Mike before me, I could not repress a feeling of 
 false shame as I remembered how suddenly so natural a resolve 
 must seem to have been adopted ; and it was with somewhat of hesi- 
 tation that I opened the conversation. 
 
 "And so, sir, you are going, after all? — long life to you! But I 
 never doubted it. Sure, you wouldn't be your father's son, and not 
 join divarsion when there was any going." 
 
 The poor fellow's eyes brightened up, his look gladdened, and 
 before he reached the foot of the stairs I heard his loud cheer of 
 delight, that once more we were off to the wars. 
 
 The packet sailed for Liverpool the next morning ; by it we took 
 our passage, and on the third morning I found myself in the wait- 
 ing-room at the Horse Guards, expecting the moment of his Royal 
 Highness's arrival ; my determination being to serve as a volun- 
 teer in any regiment the Duke might suggest, until such time as a 
 prospect presented itself of entering the service as a subaltern. 
 
 The room was crowded by officers of every rank and arm in the 
 service. The old, gray-headed general of division ; the tall, stout- 
 looking captain of infantry ; the thin and boyish figure of the newly- 
 gazetted cornet, were all there. Every accent, every look that 
 marked each trait of national distinction in the empire, had its rep- 
 resentative, — the reserved, and distant Scotchman ; the gay, laugh- 
 ing, exuberant Patlander; the dark-eyed and dark-browed North 
 Briton, collected in groups, talking eagerly together ; while every 
 
BRUSSELS. 693 
 
 instant, as some new arrival would enter, all eyes would turn to the 
 spot, in eager expectation of the Duke's coming. At last the clash 
 of arms, as the guard turned out, apprised us of his approach, and 
 we had scarcely time to stand up and stop the buzz of voices, when 
 the door opened, and an aide-de-camp proclaimed, in a full tone, 
 " His Eoyal Highness the Commander-in-Chief 1" 
 Bowing courteously on every side, he advanced through the crowd, 
 turning his rapid and piercing 100k here and there through the 
 room, while with that tact, the essential gift of his family, he re- 
 cognized each person by his name, directing from one to the other 
 some passing observation. 
 
 " Ah, Sir George Cockburn, how d'ye do ? — your son's appoint- 
 ment is made out. Major Conyers, that application shall be looked 
 to. Forbes, you must explain that I cannot possibly put men in 
 the regiment of their choice — the service is the first thing. Lord 
 
 L , your memorial is before the Prince Regent — the cavalry 
 
 command will, I believe, however, include your name." 
 
 While he spoke thus, he approached the place where I was stand- 
 ing, when, suddenly checking himself, he looked at me for a mo- 
 ment somewhat sternly. 
 
 " Why not in uniform, sir ?" 
 " Your Royal Highness, I am not in the army." 
 " Not in the army — not in the army ? And why, may I beg to 
 know, have you — but I'm speaking to Captain O'Malley, if I mis- 
 take not?" 
 
 " I held that rank, sir, once, but family necessities compelled me 
 to sell out ; I have no commission in the service, but am come to 
 beseech your Royal Highness's permission to serve as a volunteer." 
 • As a volunteer, eh— a volunteer? Come, that's right, I like 
 that ; but still, we want such fellows as you — the man of Ciudad 
 Rodrigo. Yes, my lord, this is one of the stormers ; fought his way 
 through the trench among the first ; must not be neglected. Hold 
 yourself in readiness, Captain— hang it, I was forgetting— Mr. O'Mal- 
 ley, I mean — hold yourself in readiness for a staff appointment. 
 Smithson, take a note of this." So saying, he moved on ; and I 
 found myself in the street, with a heart bounding with delight, and 
 a step proud as an emperor's. 
 
 With such rapidity did the events of my life now follow one upon 
 the other, that I could take no note of time as it passed. On the 
 fourth day after my conversation with the Duke I found myself in 
 Brussels. As yet, I heard nothing of the appointment, nor was I 
 gazetted to any regiment or any situation on the staff. It was 
 strange enough, too, I met but few of my old associates, and not 
 one of those with whom I had been most intimate in my Peninsular 
 
694 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 career ; but it so chanced that very many of the regiments who most 
 distinguished themselves in the Spanish campaigns, at the peace of 
 1814 were sent on foreign service. My old friend Power was, I 
 learned, quartered at Courtrai ; and, as I was perfectly at liberty to 
 dispose of my movemerlts at present, I resolved to visit him there. 
 
 It was a beautiful evening on the 12th of June. I had been in • 
 quiring concerning post-horses for my journey, and was returning 
 slowly through the park. The hour was late — near midnight — but 
 a pale moonlight, a calm, unruffled air, and stronger inducements 
 still, the song of the nightingales that abound in this place, pre- 
 vailed on many of the loungers to prolong their stay j and so, from 
 many a shady walk and tangled arbor, the clank of a sabre would 
 strike upon the ear, or the low, soft voice of woman would mingle 
 its dulcet sound with the deep tones of her companion. I wandered 
 on, thoughtful and alone ; my mind preoccupied so completely with 
 the mighty events passing before me, that I totally forgot my own 
 humble career, and the circumstances of my fortune. As I turned 
 into an alley which leads from the Great Walk towards the palace 
 of the Prince of Orange, I found my path obstructed by three per- 
 sons who were walking slowly along in front of me. I was, as I 
 have mentioned, deeply absorbed in thought, so that I found myself 
 close behind them before I was aware of their presence. Two of the 
 party were in uniform, and by their plumes, upon which a passing 
 ray of moonlight flickered, I could detect they were general officers; 
 the third was a lady. Unable to pass them, and unwilling to turn 
 back, I was unavoidably compelled to follow, and, however unwil- 
 ling, to overhear somewhat of their conversation. 
 
 " You mistake, George, you mistake. Depend upon it, this will 
 be no lengthened campaign ; victory will soon decide for one snje 
 or the other. If Napoleon beats the Prussians one day, and beats 
 us the next, the German states will rally to his standard, and the 
 old confederation of the Ehine will spring up once more, in all the 
 plenitude of its power. The Champ de Mai has shown the enthusi- 
 asm of France for their emperor. Louis Eighteenth fled from his 
 capital, with few to follow, and none to say, ' God bless him !' The 
 warlike spirit of the nation is roused again ; the interval of peace, 
 too short to teach habits of patient and enduring industry, is yet 
 sufficient to whet the appetite for carnage, and nothing is wanting* 
 save the presence of Napoleon alone to restore all the brilliant de- 
 lusions and intoxicating splendors of the empire." 
 
 " I confess," said the other, " I take a very different view from 
 yours in this matter. To me it seems that France is as tired of 
 battles as of the Bourbons " 
 
 I heard no more, for, though the speaker continued, a misty con- 
 
BRUSSELS. 695 
 
 fusion passed across my mind. The tones of his voice, well remem- 
 bered as they were by me, left me unable to think, and as I stood 
 motionless on the spot, I muttered, half aloud, " Sir George Dash- 
 wood." It was he, indeed ; and she who leaned upon his arm could 
 be no other than Lucy herself. I know not how it was ; for many a 
 long month I had schooled my heart, and taught myself to believe 
 that time had dulled the deep impression she had made upon me, 
 and that were we to meet again, it would be with more sorrow on 
 my part for my broken dream of happiness than of attachment and 
 affection for her who inspired it ; but now, scarcely was I near her — 
 I had not gazed upon her looks, I had not even heard her voice — 
 and yet, in all their ancient force came back the early passages of 
 my love, and as her footfall sounded gently upon the ground, my 
 keart beat scarce less audibly. Alas ! I could no longer disguise 
 from myself the avowal that she it was, and she only, who implanted 
 in my heart the thirst for distinction, and the moment was ever 
 present to my mind in which, as she threw her arms round her 
 father's neck, she muttered, " Oh, why not a soldier?" 
 
 As I thus reflected, an officer in full dress passed me hurriedly, 
 and taking off his hat as he came up with the party before me, 
 bowed obsequiously. 
 
 " My Lord , I believe, and Sir George Dash wood ?" They 
 
 replied by a bow. " Sir Thomas Picton wishes to speak with you 
 both for a moment ; he is standing beside the ' Basin.' If you will 
 permit " said he, looking toward Lucy. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Sir George ; " if you will have the good- 
 ness to accompany us, my daughter will wait our coming here. Sit 
 down, Lucy ; we shall not be long away." 
 
 The next moment she was alone. The last echoes of their retiring 
 footsteps had died away in the grassy walk, and in the calm and 
 death-like stillness I could hear every rustle of her silk dress. 
 The moonlight fell in fitful, straggling gleams between the leafy 
 branches, and showed me her countenance, pale as marble. Her 
 eyes were upturned slightly ; her brown hair, divided upon her fair 
 forehead, sparkled with a wreath of brilliants, which heightened the 
 lustrous effect of her calm beauty ; and now I could perceive her 
 dress bespoke that she had been at some of the splendid entertain- 
 ments which followed day after day in the busy capital. 
 
 Thus I stood within a few paces of her to be near whom, a few 
 hours before, I would willingly have given all I possessed in the 
 world ; and yet now a barrier far more insurmountable than time and 
 space intervened between us ; still, it seemed as though fortune had 
 presented this incident as a last farewell between us. Why should I 
 not take advantage of it ? Why should I not seize the only opportu- 
 
696 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 nity that might ever occur of rescuing myself from the apparent load 
 of ingratitude which weighed on me ? I felt in the cold despair of 
 my heart that I could have no hold upon her affection ; but a pride 
 scarce less strong than the attachment that gave rise to it urged me 
 to speak. By one violent effort I summoned up my courage ; and 
 while I resolved to limit the few words I should say merely to my 
 vindication, I prepared to advance. Just at this instant, however, 
 a shadow crossed the path * a rustling sound was heard among the 
 branches, and the tall figure of a man in a dra*goon cloak stood 
 before me. Lucy turned suddenly at the sound ; but scarcely had 
 her eyes been bent in the direction, when, throwing off his cloak, he 
 sprang forward, and dropped at her feet. All my feeling of shame 
 at the part I was performing was now succeeded by a sense of savage 
 and revengeful hatred. It was enough that I should be brought 
 to look upon her whom I had lost forever without the added 
 bitterness of witnessing her preference for a rival. The whirlwind 
 passion of my brain stunned and stapefied me. Unconsciously I 
 drew my sword from my scabbard, and it was only as the pale light 
 fell upon the keen blade that the thought flashed across me, " What 
 could I mean to do ?" 
 
 " No, Hammersley," — it was he indeed, — said she, " it is unkind, 
 it is unfair, nay, it is unmanly to press me thus. I would not pain 
 you, were it not that in sparing you now I should entail deeper 
 injury upon you hereafter. Ask me to be your sister — your friend ; 
 ask me to feel proudly in your triumphs — to glory in your success ; 
 all this I do feel ; but oh ! I beseech you, as you value your happi- 
 ness — as you prize mine — ask me no more than this." 
 
 There was a pause of some seconds, and at length the low tones 
 of a man's voice, broken and uncertain in their utterance, said, — 
 
 " I know it — I feel it. My heart never bade me hope — and now — 
 'tis over." 
 
 He stood up as he spoke, and while he threw the light folds of his 
 mantle round him, a gleam of light fell upon his features. They 
 were pale as death ; two dark circles surrounded .his sunken eyes, 
 and his bloodless lip looked still more ghastly from the dark mous- 
 tache that drooped above it. 
 
 " Farewell !" said he, slowly, as he crossed his arms sadly upon 
 his breast ; " I will not pain you more." 
 
 "Oh! go not thus from me," said she, as her voice became 
 tremulous with emotion ; " do not add to the sorrow that weighs 
 upon my heart. I cannot, indeed I cannot, be other than I am ; 
 and I do but hate myself to think that I cannot give my love where 
 
 I have given all my esteem. If time " But before she could 
 
 continue further, the noise of approaching footsteps was heard, and 
 
BRUSSELS. 697 
 
 the voice of Sir George, as he came near. Hammersley disappeared 
 at once, and Lucy, with rapid steps, advanced to meet her father, 
 while I remained riveted upon the spot. What a torrent of emotions 
 then rushed upon my heart! What hopes, long dead or dying, 
 sprang up to life again I What visions of long-abandoned happi- 
 ness flitted before me ! Could it be, then ? dare I trust myself to 
 think of it, that Lucy cared for me ? The thought was maddening. 
 With a bounding sense of ecstasy I dashed across the park, resolving 
 at all hazards to risk everything upon the chance, and wait the next 
 morning upon Sir George Dashwood. As I thought thus, I reached 
 my hotel, where I found Mike in waiting with a letter. As I walked 
 towards the lamp in the porte coch&re, my eye fell upon the address. 
 It was in General Dashwood's hand. I tore it open, and read as 
 follows: 
 
 "Dear Sir: — Circumstances, into which you will excuse me 
 entering, having placed an insurmountable barrier to our former 
 terms of intimacy, you will, I trust, excuse me declining the honor 
 of any nearer acquaintance, and also forgive the liberty I take in 
 informing you of it, which step, however unpleasant to my feelings, 
 will save us both the great pain of meeting. 
 
 "I have only this moment heard of your arrival in Brussels, and 
 take thus the earliest opportunity of communicating with you. 
 
 " With every assurance of my respect for you personally, and an 
 earnest desire to serve you in your military career, 
 
 " I beg to remain, 
 
 " Very faithfully yours, 
 
 "George Dashwood." 
 
 "Another note, sir," said Mike, as he thrust into my hand a 
 letter he had just received from an orderly. 
 
 Stunned, half stupefied, I broke the seal. The contents were but 
 three lines. 
 
 "Sir :— I have the honor to inform you that Sir Thomas Picton 
 has appointed you an extra aide-de-camp on his personal staff. You 
 will therefore present yourself to-morrow morning at the Adjutant- 
 General's office, to receive your appointment and instructions. 
 
 "I have the honor to be, &c. 
 
 "G. Fitzroy." 
 
 Crushing the two letters in my fevered hand, I retired to my room, 
 and threw myself, dressed as I was, upon my bed. Sleep, that seems 
 
698 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 to visit us in the saddest as in the happiest times of our existence, 
 came over me, and I did not awake until the bugles of the 95th were 
 sounding the reveille through the park, and the bright beams of the 
 morning sun were peering through the window. 
 
 CHAPTEE LII. 
 
 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 MR. O'MALLEY," said a voice, as my door opened, and an 
 officer in undress entered. "Mr. O'Malley, I believe you 
 received your appointment last night on General Picton's 
 staff?" 
 
 I bowed in reply, as he resumed : 
 
 u Sir Thomas desires that you will proceed to Courtrai with these 
 despatches in all haste. I -don't know if you are well mounted, but 
 I recommend you, in any case, not to spare your cattle." 
 
 So saying, he wished me a good morning, and left me, in a state of 
 no small doubt and difficulty, to my own reflections. What the 
 deuce was I to do ? I had no horse ; I knew not where to find one. 
 What uniform should I wear? For although appointed on the staff, 
 I was not gazetted to any regiment that I knew of, and hitherto had 
 "fceen wearing an undress frock and a foraging cap, for I could not 
 bear to appear as a civilian among so many military acquaintances. 
 No time was, however, to be lost, so I proceeded to put on my old 
 14th uniform, wondering whether my costume might not cost me a 
 reprimand in the very outset of my career. Meanwhile I despatched 
 Mike to see after a horse, caring little for the time, the merits, or 
 the price of the animal, provided he served my present purpose. 
 
 In less than twenty minutes my worthy follower appeared beneath 
 my window, surrounded by a considerable mob, who seemed to take 
 no small interest in the proceedings. 
 
 " What the deuce is the matter ?" cried I, as I opened the sash and 
 looked out. 
 
 "Mighty little's the matter, your honor; it's the savages here 
 that's admiring my horsemanship," said Mike, as he belabored a 
 tall, scraggy-looking mule with a stick which bore an uncommon 
 resemblance to a broom-handle*. 
 
 " What do you mean to do with that beast ?" said I. " You surely 
 don't expect me to ride a mule to Courtrai ?" 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 699 
 
 " Faith, and if you don't, you are likely to walk the journey ; for 
 there isn't a horse to be had for love or money in the town ; but I 
 am told that Mr. Marsden is coming up to-morrow with plenty, so 
 that you may as well take the journey out of the soft horns as spoil 
 a better, and if he only makes as good use of his fore legs as he does 
 of the hind ones, he'll think little of the road." 
 
 A vicious lash out behind served in a moment to corroborate 
 Mike's assertion, and to scatter the crowd on every side. 
 
 However indisposed to exhibit myself with such a turnout, my 
 time did not admit of any delay ; and so, arming myself with my de- 
 spatches, and having procured the necessary information as to the 
 road, I set out from the Belle Vue, amid an ill-suppressed titter of 
 merriment from the mob, which nothing but fear of Mike and his 
 broomstick prevented becoming a regular shout of laughter. 
 
 It was near nightfall as, tired and weary of the road, I entered 
 the little village of Halle. All was silent and noiseless in the de- 
 serted streets ; not a lamp threw its glare upon the pavement, not 
 even a solitary candle flickered through the casement. Unlike a 
 town garrisoned by troops, neither sentry nor outpost was to be met 
 with ; nothing gave evidence that the place was held by a large 
 body of men ; and I could not help feeling struck, as the footsteps of 
 my mule were echoed along the causeway, with the silence almost of 
 desolation around me. By the creaking of a sign, as it swung mourn- 
 fully to and fro, I was directed to the door of the village inn, where, 
 dismounting, I knocked for some moments, but without success. At 
 length, when I had made an uproar sufficient to alarm the entire 
 village, the casement above the door slowly opened, and a head en- 
 veloped in a huge cotton nightcap — so, at least, it appeared to me 
 from the size — protruded itself. After uttering a curse in about the 
 most barbarous French I ever heard, he asked me what I wanted 
 there; to which I replied, most nationally, by asking in return 
 where the British dragoons were quartered, 
 
 " They left for Nivelle this morning, to join some regiments of 
 your own country." 
 
 " Ah ! ah !" thought I, " he mistakes me for a Brunswicker," to 
 which, by the uncertain light, my uniform gave me some resem- 
 blance. As it was now impossible for me to proceed further, 
 I begged to ask where I could procure accommodation for the 
 night. 
 
 " At the Burgomaster's. Turn to your left at the end of this street, 
 and you will soon find it. They have got some English officers 
 there, who, I believe in my soul, never sleep." 
 
 This was, at least, pleasant intelligence, and promised a better ter- 
 mination to my journey than I had begun to hope for ; so wishing 
 
700 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 my friend a good-night, to which he willingly responded, I resumed 
 my way down the street. As he closed the window, once more leav- 
 ing me to my reflections, I began to wonder within myself to what 
 arm of the service these officers belonged to whose convivial gifts he 
 bore testimony. As I turned the corner of the street, I soon dis- 
 covered the correctness of his information. A broad glare of light 
 stretched across the entire pavement from a large house with a 
 clumsy stone portico before it. On coming nearer, the sound of 
 voices, the roar of laughter, the shouts of merriment that issued 
 forth, plainly bespoke that a jovial party were seated within. The 
 half-shutter which closed the lower part of the windows prevented 
 my obtaining a view of the proceedings ; but having cautiously ap- 
 proached the casement, I managed to creep on the window-sill and 
 look into the room. 
 
 There the scene was certainly a curious one. Around a large table 
 sat a party of some twenty persons, the singularity of whose appear- 
 ance may be conjectured when I mention that all those who ap- 
 peared to be British officers were dressed in the robes of the tchevins 
 (or aldermen) of the village ; while some others, whose looks bespoke 
 them as sturdy Flemings, sported the cocked hats and cavalry hel- 
 mets of their associates. He who appeared the ruler of the feast sat 
 with his back towards me, and wore, in addition to the dress of bur- 
 gomaster, a herald's tabard, which gave him something the air of a 
 grotesque screen at its potations. A huge fire blazed upon the 
 ample hearth, before which were spread several staff uniforms, whose 
 drabbled and soaked appearance denoted the reason of the party's 
 change of habiliments. Every imaginable species of drinking- vessel 
 figured upon the board, from the rich flagon of chased silver to the 
 humble cruche we see in a Teniers picture. As well as I could hear, 
 the language of the company seemed to be French, or, at least, such 
 an imitation of that language as served as a species of neutral terri- 
 tory for both parties to meet in. 
 
 He of the tabard spoke louder than the others, and although, from 
 the execrable endeavors he made to express himself in French, his 
 natural voice was much altered, there was yet something in his ac- 
 cents which seemed perfectly familiar to me. 
 
 "Mosheer V Abbey" said he, placing his arm familiarly on the 
 shoulder of a portly personage, whose shaven crown strangely con- 
 trasted with a pair of corked moustaches — "Mosheer V Abbey, nous 
 sommes frercs, et moi, savez-vous, suis iveque, — 'pon my life it's true; I 
 might have been Bishop of Saragossa, if I had only consented to 
 leave the 23d. J6 suis bong Catholique. Lord bless you, if you saw 
 how I loved the nunneries of Spain ! J'ai tres jolly souvenirs of 
 those nunneries — a goodly company of little silver saints ; and this 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 701 
 
 waistcoat you see — rnong gilet — was a satin petticoat of our Lady of 
 Loretto." 
 
 Need I say that before this speech was concluded, I had recog- 
 nized in the speaker nobody but that inveterate old villain, Monsoon 
 himself? 
 
 " Permettez, voire Excellence" said a hale, jolly-looking personage 
 on his left, as he filled the Major's goblet with obsequious politeness. 
 
 "Bong engfong" replied Monsoon, tapping him familiarly on the 
 head. " Burgomaster, you are a trump ; and when I get my pro- 
 motion, I'll make you prefect in a wine district. Pass the lush, and 
 don't look sleepy ! * Drowsiness,' says Solomon, ' clothes a man in 
 rags ;' and no marl knew the world better than Solomon. Don't you 
 be laughing, you raw boys. Never mind them, Abbey ; Us sont petits 
 gargongs — fags from Eton and Harrow ; better judges of mutton 
 broth than sherry negus." 
 
 " I say, Major, you are forgetting the song you promised us." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said several voices together ; " the song, Major ! the 
 song !" 
 
 " Time enough for that ; we're doing very well as it is. Upon my 
 life, though, they hold a deal of wine. I thought we'd liave had 
 them fit to bargain with before ten ; and see, it's near midnight ; 
 and I must have my forage accounts ready for the Commissary- 
 General by to-morrow morning." 
 
 This speech having informed me the reason of the Major's pre- 
 sence there, I resolved to wait no longer a mere spectator of their 
 proceedings ; so, dismounting from my position, I commenced a 
 vigorous attack upon the door. 
 
 It was some time before I was heard ; but at length the door was 
 opened, and I was accosted by an Englishman, who, in a strange 
 compound of French and English, asked " what the devil I meant 
 by all that uproar?" Determining to startle my old friend the 
 major, I replied that " I was an aide-de-camp to General Picton, 
 and had come down on very unpleasant business." By this time the 
 noise of the party within had completely subsided, and, from a few 
 whispered sentences, and their thickened breathing, I perceived that 
 they were listening. 
 
 "May I ask, sir," continued I, "if Major Monsoon is here?" 
 
 " Yes," stammered the Ensign, for such he was. 
 
 " Sorry for it, for his sake," said I ; " but my orders are peremp- 
 tory." 
 
 A deep groan from within, and a muttered request to pass down 
 the sherry, nearly overcame my gravity ; but I resumed, — 
 
 " If you will permit me, I will make the affair as short as possible. 
 The Major, I presume, is here?" 
 
702 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 So saying, I pushed forward into the room, where now a slight 
 scuffling noise and murmur of voices had succeeded silence. Brief 
 us was the interval of our colloquy, the scene within had, notwith- 
 standing, undergone considerable change. The English officers, 
 hastily throwing off their aldermanic robes, were busily arraying 
 themselves in their uniforms, while Monsoon himself, with a huge 
 basin of water before him, was endeavoring to wash the cork from 
 his countenance in the corner of his. tabard. 
 
 " Very hard upon me, all this ; upon my life, so it is. Picton is 
 always at me, just as if we had not been school-fellows. The service 
 is getting worse every day. Regardezmoi y Curey, mong face est propref 
 Eh ? There, thank you. Good fellow the Curey is, but takes a deal 
 of fluid. Oh, Burgomaster ! I fear it is all up with me ! No more 
 fun, no more jollification, no more plunder — and how I did do it I 
 Nothing like watching one's little chances! 'The poor is hated 
 even by his neighbor.' Oui, Curey, it is Solomon says that, and 
 they must have had a heavy poor-rate in his day to make him say 
 so. Another glass of sherry ?" 
 
 By this time I approached the back of his chair, and, slapping 
 him heartily on the shoulder, called out, — 
 " Major! old boy, how goes it?" 
 
 " Eh ?— what?— how ?— who is this ? It can't be— egad, sure.it is, 
 though. Charley ! Charley O'Malley, you scapegrace, where have 
 you been ? When did you join ?" 
 
 "A week ago, Major. I could resist it no longer. I did my best 
 to be a -country gentleman, and behave respectably, but the old 
 temptation was too strong for me. Fred Power and yourself, Major, 
 had ruined my education ; and here I am once more amongst you." 
 " And so Picton, and the arrest, and all that, was nothing but a 
 joke?" said the old fellow, rolling his wicked eyes with a most cun- 
 ning expression. „■ 
 
 "Nothing more, Major; set your heart at rest." 
 " What a scamp you are," said he, with another grin. " 77 est mon 
 fils—il est mon fils, Curey ," presenting me, as he spoke, while the 
 Burgomaster, in whose eyes the Major seemed no inconsiderable 
 personage, saluted me with profound respect. 
 
 Turning at once towards this functionary, T explained that I was 
 the bearer of important despatches, and that my horse— I was 
 ashamed to say my mule— having fallen lame, I was unable to 
 proceed. 
 
 "Can you procure me a remount, monsieur?" said I, "for I must 
 hasten on to Courtrai." 
 
 " In half an hour you shall be provided, as well as with a mounted 
 guide for the road. Lefils de son Excellence," said he, with emphasis, 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 703 
 
 bowing to the Major as he spoke, who, in his turn, repaid the cour- 
 tesy with a still lower obeisance. 
 
 " Sit down, Charley ; here is a clean glass. I am delighted to see 
 you, my boy ! They tell me you have got a capital estate, and plenty 
 of ready. Lord ! we so wanted you, as there's scarcely a fellow with 
 sixpence among us. Give me the lad that can do a bit of paper at 
 .three months, and always be ready for a renewal ! You haven't got 
 a twenty-pound note ?" This was said sotto voce. " Never mind, ten 
 will do ; you will give me the remainder at Brussels. Strange, is it 
 not, I have not seen a bit of clean bank paper like this for above a 
 twelvemonth !" This was said as he thrust his hand into his pocket, 
 with one of those peculiar leers upon his countenance which, un- 
 fortunately, betrayed more satisfaction at his success than gratitude 
 for the service. " You are looking fat — too fat, I think," said he, 
 scrutinizing me from head to foot ; " but the life we are leading just 
 now will soon take that off. The slave-trade is luxurious indolence 
 compared to it. Post haste to Nivelle one day ; down to Ghent the 
 next ; forty miles over a paved road in a hand-gallop, and an aide- 
 de-camp with a watch in his hand at the end of it, to report if you 
 are ten minutes too'late. And there is Wellington has his eye every- 
 where ; there is not a truss of hay served to the cavalry, nor a pair 
 of shoes half-soled in the regiment, that he don't know of. I've got 
 it over the knuckles already." 
 
 " How so, Major? — how was that?" 
 
 " Why, he ordered me to picket two squadrons of the 7th, and a 
 supper was waiting. I didn't like to leave my quarters, so I took up 
 my telescope and pitched upon a sweet little spot of ground on a 
 hill — rather difficult to get up, to be sure, but a beautiful view when 
 you're on it. ' There is your ground, Captain/ said I, * as I sent one 
 of my people to mark the spot.' He did not like it much ; however, 
 he was obliged to go. And, would you believe it ? — so much for bad 
 luck ! — there turned out to be no water within two miles of it — not 
 a drop, Charley ; and so, about eleven at night, the two squadrons 
 moved down into Grammont to wet their Jips, and, what is worse, 
 to report me to the commanding officer. And, only think, they put 
 me under arrest because Providence did not make a river run up a 
 mountain !" 
 
 Just as the Major finished speaking, the distant clatter of horses' 
 feet and the clank of cavalry was heard approaching. We all rushed 
 eagerly to the door ; and scarcely had we done so, when a squadron 
 of dragoons. came riding up the street at a fast trot. 
 
 u I say, good people," cried the officer, in French, " where does 
 the Burgomaster live here?" 
 
 " Fred Power, 'pon my life !" shouted the Major. 
 
704 en a in. E8 (j' ma li, i: y. 
 
 " Kli, Morr-oon I that y-ii ' mbler of wine, old boy ; 
 
 you are lure to bar* nd I am (to blows/ 1 
 
 "Got down, I '"I, gel down; we bare an old friend here*" 
 ''Who the donee d'ye mean?" -aid he, u throwing bimeell from 
 addle, he -trode into the room. "Charley O'Mallerl by nil 
 
 that', gioriouel" 
 
 ! red, my (,'allant fellow!" I*id I. 
 
 " It mm but tibia morning, Charley, that f ■-.<> iriehed for you bore. 
 The FrcBoh are advancing, my lad; they havecroeaed the frontier; 
 Ziethen'i dorne bawe i>< m attacked, and driven In ; lil urix r ie falling 
 
 buck upon Li(/ny; anrj the MtUpkigD M Opened. But I rnunf 
 
 forward; the regiment hi cloaa behind me, and we are ordered to 
 pa i. i',r Btuaaek in all bnato/ 1 
 " 'i ben aatchea," mid I, lowing my packet, " 'tin mine* 
 
 CCfuary to proceed with ?" 
 
 "Quite o. Oct into tii'- -addle, and dame bach with uh." 
 The Bnrgemj kef bed kept bit word with mej eo, mounted upon 
 aatrong backney, J set out with Power on the "' ; "i to BruaeeU, I 
 
 ion more, than once to ask pardon of my reader for 
 
 the prolixity of my narrative, ko I H.ha.11 not tr him here 
 
 by the dataH of our eonver-ation ■ we jogged alone-. Of me and 
 
 '! v< ill ur< Ml he tain ady known enouj/h perhapH too much. My 
 
 friend Potrer'i career, abounding a- it did In striking incidenta, and 
 
 all the light and shadow of a soldier'.-; life, yet not, bearing upon any 
 
 of the ohnraekera I have pr es en ted to your acquaintance, except in 
 ope Inatanoe, of that only thai] I ip 
 "And the Benbora, Fred, how go<* your fortune in that quarterf 1 
 
 " (iloriou.-.ly, Charley ! I am every day expecting the promotion 
 
 in my regiment which is to make bar mine." 
 
 " You bate heard from her lately, then?" 
 
 u Heard from berl Why, man, ihi to hi BrnaaeW^ 
 
 " [a Brneeebf" 
 
 "To be sure. Don Emanuel in in hie-h favor with the Duke, and 
 
 m (lomm'r ary < << nera.1 with the, a.rmy ; arid the Henhora, in the 
 fojfc of the l!in; koyale, or, at leant, it'rt a divided 'y 00- 
 
 n h< r and Lucy DartliWOOd* And now, Charley, let m< 
 
 what of her? There there, don't blush, man; there, is quite 
 enough moonlight to show how tender you an- in that quart 
 "Once for all, Fred, pray space me on that subject, You bare 
 
 been far tOO fortunate in your offakrt dt '•'/"/, and I too mueh the 
 '•, tO permit mueh -ympafhy betwe. n . 
 
 " Do you not visit, then J or is it a eut between you ?" 
 " I have DOrer met her sinee (,| 1( ; [light uf tin; masquerade of the 
 
 Villa -at least, to Hpcak to " 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 70. r > 
 
 "Well, I inn I COIlfc :■:-; you seem to 111:1 nage you f own affairs much 
 worse Mi:i.ii your friend,'; not hut that in ho doing you an- «-.\hih 
 iliii!' a very Irish f<:iliire of your character*, hi :my < :. ..«•, ymi will 
 come I" thobali? limy, will be delighted to see you ; mid I havegdt 
 
 over all my jealousy." 
 
 u What bail ? I never beard of it." 
 
 u Never beard of it! Why, the Duchess of Richmond's, of course. 
 
 Pooh, pooh! man ; not invited? — of course you are invited; the 
 staff arc never left out on Hiieh occasions. You will find your card 
 at your hotel when you return. 
 
 " in any case, Fred " 
 
 " I shall insist upon your going. I liuve no urrure fmtii about 
 B reconciliation with the Daub woods- no subtle scheme, on my 
 honor; hut simply I feel that you will never give yourself fair 
 
 ehancei Ld the world by Indulging your hahit of shrinking from 
 every embarrassment, Doo't be offended, hoy ; I know you have 
 
 pluck enough to Storm a battery; I have seen you under lire before 
 now. What avails your eour:i;'e in the. held it you have not pn :.<n.-.- 
 of mind in the drawing room.'' I. crything else out of the 
 
 question, it i;- :i. breach of eti.pietfc towards your chief to decline 
 
 such an Invitation." 
 
 "You think so?" 
 
 " Think so ?— No ; I am sure of it." 
 "Then, as to uniform, Fred?" 
 
 "Oh, as to that, easily managed. And, now I think of It, they 
 have sent me an unattached uniform, which you can have ; hut re 
 member, my hoy, if I put you in my COat, I don'! want you to 
 Stand in my shoes. Don't forget, also, tin.!, I am your debtor Ifl 
 horse flesh, and fortunately able to repay you. I have ;<ot ml, a 
 
 charger; your own favorite color, darl chestnut, and, except one 
 white: leg, noi a spot about bin ; can carry i Ixteen stone overa five 
 
 foot fence, and an steady as a rock under fire." 
 
 " r.ut, h'red, how are you ?" 
 
 "Oh, never mind me; I havesix in my;!:.!,!.-, .and intend to ,|, : , re 
 with you. Xhe fact is, I have been traofn red from one sfafflo ;,n 
 
 other for the hist six months, and lour of my number are presents, 
 
 Is Mike, with you? Ah! r lad to bear it: you will never get on 
 without that fellow. Hesidcs, it is a capital tiling to have such u 
 connecting link with one's nationality. No fear of your evei I--, 
 getting Ireland with Mr. ffroe In your company, You are not aware 
 
 1 1,:Lt wr li:iv <' l "'*» <<"'■• pond, nls? :,. f.,,-1, I :i ,,, \f,|. ( . 
 
 wrote me two letters; ami such I. !!,r; liny Vferel The I 
 
 Jeremiad over your decline and fail, with a very ominous picture of 
 a certain Miss Baby Blal 
 i.. 
 
706 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Confound the rascal !" 
 
 " By Jove, though, Charley, you were coming it rather strong 
 with Baby. Inez saw the letter, and as well as she could decipher 
 Mike's hieroglyphics, saw there was something in it; but the name 
 Baby puzzled her immensely, and she set the whole thing down to 
 your great love of children. I don't think that Lucy quite agreed 
 with her." 
 
 " Did she tell it to Miss Dashwood ?" I inquired, with fear and 
 trembling. 
 
 " Oh, that she did ; in fact Inez never ceases talking of you to Lucy. 
 But come, don't look so grave ; let's have another brush with the 
 enemy ; capture a battery of their guns ; carry off a French Marshal 
 or two ; get the Bath for your services, and be thanked in general 
 orders, and I will wager all my chateaux en Espagne that everything 
 goes well." 
 
 Thus chatting away, sometimes over the past, of our former 
 friends and gay companions, of our days of storm and sunshine ; 
 sometimes indulging in prospects for the future, we trotted along, 
 and, as the day was breaking, mounted the ridge of low hills from 
 whence, at the distance of a couple of leagues, the city of Brussels 
 came into view. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S BALL. 
 
 WHETHER we regard the illustrious and distinguished per- 
 sonages who thronged around, or we think of the porten- 
 tous moment in which it was given, the Duchess of 
 Richmond's ball, on the night of the 15th of June, 1815, was not 
 only one of the most memorable, but, in its interest, the most 
 exciting entertainment that the memory of any one now living can 
 compass. 
 
 There is always something of no common interest in seeing the 
 bronzed and war-worn soldier mixing in the crowd of light-hearted 
 and brilliant beauty. To watch the eye whose proud glance has 
 flashed o'er the mail-clad squadrons, now bending meekly beneath 
 the look of some timid girl ; tohear the voice that, high above the 
 battle or the breeze, has shouted the hoarse word " Charge !" now 
 subdued into the low, soft murmur of flattery or compliment, — this, 
 at any time, is a picture full of its own charm ; but when we see 
 
THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S BALL. 707 
 
 these heroes of a hundred fights ; when we look upon these hardy 
 veterans, upon whose brow the whitened locks of time are telling, 
 indulging themselves in the careless gayety of a moment snatched, 
 as it were, from the arduous career of their existence, while the 
 tramp of the advancing enemy shakes the very soil they stand on, 
 and where it may be doubted whether each aide-de-camp who enters 
 comes a new votary of pleasure or the bearer, of tidings that the 
 troops of the foe are advancing, and already the work of death has 
 begun, — this is, indeed, a scene to make the heart throb and the 
 pulse beat high ; this is a moment second in its proud excitement 
 only to the very crash and din of battle itself; and into this en- 
 trancing whirlwind of passion and of pleasure, of brilliant beauty 
 and ennobled greatness, of all that is lovely in woman and all that 
 is chivalrous and heroic in man, I brought a heart which, young in 
 years, was yet tempered by disappointment ; still, such was the fas- 
 cination, such the brilliancy of the spectacle, that scarcely had I 
 entered, than I felt a change come over me. The old spirit of my 
 boyish ardor — that high-wrought enthusiasm to do something — to 
 be something which men may speak of— shot suddenly through me, 
 and I felt my cheek tingle, and my temples throb, as name after 
 name of starred and titled officers was announced, to think that to 
 me, also, the path of glorious enterprise was opening. 
 
 " Come along, come along," said Power, catching me by the arm ; 
 " you've not been presented to the Duchess ; I know her, I'll do it 
 for you — or perhaps it is better Sir Thomas Picton should. In any 
 case, 'JHez' after me, for the dark-eyed Senhora is surely expecting 
 us. There, do you see that dark, intelligent-looking fellow leaning 
 over the end of the sofa? that is Alava. And there, you know who 
 that is — that beau ideal of a hussar ? Look how jauntily he carries 
 himself; see the careless but graceful sling with which he edges 
 through the crowd ; and look ! mark his bow ! Did you see that, 
 Charley ? — did you catch the quick glance he shot yonder, and the 
 soft smile that showed his white teeth ? Depend upon it, boy, some 
 fair heart is not the better nor the easier for that look." 
 
 "Who is it?" said I. 
 
 " Lord Uxbridge, to be sure, — the handsomest fellow in the ser- 
 vice. And there goes Vandeleur, talking with Vivian ; the other, to 
 the left, is Ponsonby." 
 
 " But stay, Fred, tell me who that is ?" For a moment or two I 
 had some difficulty in directing his attention to the quarter I de- 
 sired. The individual I pointed out was somewhat above the mid- 
 dle size; his uniform, of blue and gold, though singularly plain, 
 had a look of richness about it ; besides that, among the orders 
 which covered his breast, he wore one star of great brilliancy and 
 
708 CHABLES (VM ALLEY. 
 
 size. This, however, was his least distinction; for although sur- 
 rounded on every side by those who might be deemed the very 
 types and pictures of their caste, there was something in the easy 
 but upright carriage of his head, the intrepid character of his fea- 
 tures, the bold and vigorous flashing of his deep blue eye, that 
 marked him as no common man. He was talking with an old and 
 prosy-looking personage, in civilian dress ; and while I could detect 
 an anxiety to get free from a tiresome companion, there was an air 
 of deferential and even kind attention in his manner absolutely 
 captivating. 
 
 " A thorough gentleman, Fred, whoever he be," said I. 
 
 " I should think so," replied Power, dryly ; " and as our country- 
 men would say, ' The devil thank him for it !' That is the Prince 
 of Orange ; but see, look at him now ; his features have learned 
 another fashion." And true it was. With a smile of the most win- 
 ning softness, and with a voice whose slightly foreign accent took 
 nothing from its interest, I heard him engaging a partner for a 
 waltz. 
 
 There was a flutter of excitement in the circle as the lady rose to 
 take his arm, and a muttered sound of "How very beautiful! 
 quelle est belle ! c'est un ange /" on all sides. I leaned forward to 
 catch a glance as she passed — it was Lucy Dashwood. Beautiful 
 beyond anything I had ever seen her, her lovely features lit 
 up with pleasure and with pride, she looked in every way worthy 
 to lean upon the arm of royalty. The graceful majesty of her walk, 
 the placid loveliness of her gentle smile, struck every one as she 
 passed on. As for me, totally forgetting all else, not seeing or hear- 
 ing aught around me, I followed her with my eye until she was lost 
 amongst the crowd, and then, with an impulse of which I was not 
 master, followed in her steps. 
 
 " This way, this way," said Power ; " I see the Senhora." So say- 
 ing, we entered a little boudoir, where a party was playing at cards. 
 Leaning on the back of a chair, Inez was endeavoring, with that 
 mixture of coquetry and half malice she possessed, to distract the 
 attention of the player. As Power came near, she scarcely turned 
 her head to give him a kind of saucy smile, while, seeing me, she 
 held out her hand with friendly warmth, and seemed quite happy 
 to meet me. 
 
 " Do, pray, take her away ; get her to dance, to eat ice, or flirt 
 with you, for Heaven's sake !" said the half-laughing voice of her 
 victim. "I have revoked twice, and misdealt four times, since she 
 has been here. Believe me, I shall take it as the greatest favor if 
 if you'll " 
 
 As he got thus far, he turned round towards me, and I perceived 
 
THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S BALL. 709 
 
 it was Sir George Dashwood. The meeting was as awkward for him 
 as for me, and while a deep blush covered my face, he muttered 
 some unintelligible apology, and Inez burst into a fit of laughter at 
 the ludicrous contretemps of our situation. 
 
 " I will dance with you now, if you like," said she, " and that will 
 be punishing all three. Eh, Master Fred ?" 
 
 So saying, she took my arm, as I led her towards the ball-room. 
 
 "And so you really are not friends with the Dashwoods? How 
 very provoking, and how foolish too ! But really, chevalier, I must 
 say you treat ladies very ill. I don't forget your conduct to me. 
 Dear me, I wish we could move forward ; there is some one pushing 
 me dreadfully !" 
 
 " Get on, ma'am, get on !" said a sharp, decided voice behind me. 
 I turned, half smiling, to see the speaker. It was the Duke of Wel- 
 lington himself, who, with his eye fixed upon some person at a dis- 
 tance, seemed to care very little for any intervening obstruction. 
 As I made way for him to pass between us, he looked hardly at me, 
 while he said, in a short, quick way, 
 
 " Know your face very well — how d'ye do ?" With this brief 
 recognition he passed on, leaving me to console Inez for her crushed 
 sleeve, by informing her who had done it. 
 
 The ball was now at its height. The waltzers whirled past in the 
 wild excitement of the dance. The inspiriting strains of the music, 
 the sounds of laughter, the din, the tumult, all made up that strange 
 medley which, reacting upon the minds of those who cause it, in- 
 creases the feeling of pleasurable abandonment, making the old feel 
 young, and the young intoxicated with delight. 
 
 As the Senhora leaned upon me, fatigued with waltzing, I was 
 endeavoring to sustain a conversation with her, while my thoughts 
 were wandering with my eyes to where I had last seen Lucy Dash- 
 wood. 
 
 " It must be something of importance ; I'm sure it is," said she, 
 at the conclusion of a speech of which I had not heard one word. 
 " Look at General Picton's face !" 
 
 "Very pretty, indeed," said I ; "but the air is unbecoming," re- 
 plying to some previous observation she had made, and still lost in 
 reverie. A hearty burst of laughter was her answer, and she gently 
 took my arm, saying, 
 
 " You really are too bad ! You never listen to one word I've 
 been telling you, but keep continually staring with your eyes here 
 and there, turning this way and looking that; and the dull and 
 vacant, unmeaning smile, answering at random in the most pro- 
 voking manner. There, now, pray pay attention, and tell me what 
 that means." As she said this, she pointed with her fan to where a 
 
710 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 dragoon officer, in splashed and spattered uniform, was standing, 
 talking to some three or four general officers. " But here comes the 
 Duke ; it can't be anything of consequence." 
 
 At the same instant the Duke of Wellington passed, with the 
 Duchess of Eichmond on his arm. 
 
 " No, Duchess ; nothing to alarm you. Did you say ice ?" 
 
 "There, you heard that, I hope?" said Inez; "there is nothing 
 to alarm us." 
 
 "Go to General Picton, at once, but don't let it be remarked," 
 said an officer, in a whisper, as he passed close by me. 
 
 " Inez, I have the greatest curiosity to know what that new arrival 
 has to say for himself, and if you will permit me, I'll leave you with 
 Lady Gordon for one moment " 
 
 "Delighted, of all things. You are, without exception, the most 
 tiresome Good-bye." 
 
 " Adieu !" said I, as I hurried through the crowd towards an open 
 window, on the balcony outside of which Sir Thomas Picton was 
 standing. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. O'Malley ! have you a pencil ? There, that'll do. Eide 
 down to Etterbeck with this order for Godwin. You have heard the 
 news, I suppose, that the French are in advance ? The 79th will 
 muster in the Grande Place. The 92d and the 28th along the Park 
 and the Boulevard. Napoleon left Fresnes this morning. The 
 Prussians have fallen back. Zeithen has been beaten. We march 
 at once." 
 
 " To-morrow, sir ?" 
 
 " No, sir ; to-night. There, don't delay. But, above all, let 
 everything be done quietly and noiselessly. The Duke will remain 
 here for an hour longer, to prevent suspicion. When you've exe- 
 cuted your orders, come back here." 
 
 I mounted the first horse I could find at the door, and galloped 
 with top speed over the heavy causeway to Etterbeck. In two 
 minutes the drum beat to arms, and the men were mustering as I 
 left. Thence I hastened to the barracks of the Highland brigade 
 and the 28th Eegiment, and before half an hour was back in the 
 ball-room, where, from the din and tumult, I guessed the scene of 
 pleasure and dissipation continued unabated. As I hurried up the 
 staircase, a throng of persons were coming down, and I was obliged 
 to step aside to let them pass. 
 
 " Ah ! come here, pray," said Picton, who, with a lady, cloaked 
 and hooded, leaning upon his arm, was struggling to make way 
 through the crowd. " The very man !" 
 
 " Will you excuse me, if I commit you to the care of my aide-de- 
 camp, who will see you to your carriage? The Duke has just de> 
 
THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S BALL. Ill 
 
 sired to see me." This he said in a hurried and excited tone ; and 
 the same moment beckoned to me to take the lady's arm. 
 
 It was with some difficulty I succeeded in reaching the spot, and 
 had only time to ask whose carriage I should call for, ere we arrived 
 in the hall. 
 
 " Sir George Dashwood's," said a low, soft voice, whose accents 
 sank into my very heart. Heaven ! it was Lucy herself; it was her 
 arm that leaned on mine, her locks that fluttered beside me, her 
 hand that hung so near, and yet I could not speak. I tried one 
 word ; but a choking feeling in my throat prevented utterance, and 
 already we were upon the door-steps. 
 
 " Sir George Dashwood's carriage," shouted the footman, and the 
 announcement was repeated by the porter. The steps were hurried 
 down ; the footman stood door in hand, and I led her forward, mute 
 and trembling. Did she know me ? I assisted her as she stepped 
 in ; her hand touched mine ; it was the work of a second ; to me it 
 was the bliss of years. She leaned a little forward, and, as the ser- 
 vant put up the steps, said, in her soft, sweet tone, " Thank you, sir. 
 Good-night." 
 
 I felt my shoulder touched by some one, who, it appeared, was 
 standing close to me for some seconds ; but so occupied was I in 
 gazing at her, that I paid no attention to the circumstance. The 
 carriage drove away, and disappeared in the thick darkness of a 
 starless night. I turned to re-enter the house, and as I did so, the 
 night lamp of the hall fell upon the features of the man beside me, 
 and showed me the pale and corpse-like face of Hammersley. His 
 eye was bent upon me with an expression of fierce and fiery passion, 
 in which the sadness of long suffering also mingled. His bloodless 
 lips parted, moved as though speaking, while yet no sound issued ; 
 and his nostrils, dilating and contracting by turns, seemed to denote 
 some deep and hidden emotion that worked within him. 
 
 " Hammersley," said I, holding out my hand towards him. "Ham- 
 mersley, do not always mistake me." 
 
 He shook his head mournfully as it fell forward upon his breast; 
 and, covering his arm, moved slowly away without speaking. 
 
 General Picton's voice, as he descended the stairs, accompanied 
 by Generals Vandeleur and Vivian, aroused me at once, and I hur- 
 ried towards him. 
 
 " Now, sir ; to horse. The troops will defile by the Namur gate ; 
 meet me there in an hour. Meanwhile tell Colonel Cameron that he 
 must march with the light companies of his own and the 92d at once." 
 
 " I say, Picton, they'll say we were taken by surprise in England ; 
 won't they ?" said a sharp strong voice, in a half-laughing tone, from 
 behind. 
 
712 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 "No, your Grace," said Sir Thomas, bowing slightly; "they'll 
 scarcely do so when they hear the time we took to get under arms." 
 
 I heard no more; but, throwing myself into the saddle of my 
 troop-horse, once more rode back to the Belle Vue, to make ready 
 for the road. 
 
 The thin pale crescent of a new moon, across which masses of 
 dark and inky clouds were hurrying, tipped with its faint and sickly 
 light the tall minarets of the Hotel de Ville, as I rode into the 
 " Grande Place." Although midnight, the streets were as crowded 
 as at noonday; horse, foot, and dragoons passing and hurrying 
 hither; the wild pibroch of the Highlander; the mellow bugle of 
 the 71st ; the hoarse trumpet of the cavalry ; the incessant roll of 
 the drum, mingled their sounds with the tide of human voices, in 
 which every accent was heard, from the reckless cheer of anticipated 
 victory to the heart-piercing shriek of woman's agony. Lights 
 gleamed from every window ; from the doors of almost every house 
 poured forth a crowd of soldiers and townsfolk. The sergeants on 
 one side might be seen telling off their men, their cool and steady 
 countenances evidencing no semblance of emotion ; while near them, 
 some young ensign, whose beardless cheek and vacant smile bespoke 
 the mere boy, looked on with mingled pride and wonder at the wild 
 scene before him. Every now and then some general officer, with 
 his staff, came cantering past ; and as the efforts to muster and form 
 the troops grew more pressing, I could mark how soon we were des- 
 tined to meet the enemy. 
 
 There are few finer monuments of the architecture of the middle 
 ages than the Grande Place of Brussels. The rich facade of the 
 Hotel de Ville, with its long colonnade of graceful arches, upon 
 every keystone of which some grim grotesque head is peering ; the 
 massive cornices ; the heavy gorbels carved into ten thousand strange 
 and uncouth fancies ; but, finer than all, the taper and stately spire, 
 fretted and perforated like some piece of silver filigree, stretches 
 upward towards the sky, its airy pinnacle growing finer and more 
 beautiful as it nears the stars it points to. How full of historic as- 
 sociations is every dark embrasure, every narrow casement around ! 
 Here may have stood the great Emperor Charles the Fifth, medita- 
 ting upon that greatness he was about to forego forever ; here, from 
 this tall window, may have looked the sad and sickly features of 
 Jeanne Laffolle, as, with wandering eye and idiot smile, she gazed 
 upon the gorgeous procession beneath. There is not a stone that 
 has not echoed to the tread of haughty prince or bold baron ; yet 
 never, in the palmiest days of ancient chivalry, did those proud 
 dwellings of the great of old look out upon a braver and more valiant 
 host than now thronged beneath their shadow. It was indeed a 
 
THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S BALL. 713 
 
 splendid sight, where the bright gleams of torch and lantern threw 
 the red light around, to watch the measured tread and steady tramp 
 of the Highland regiments as they denied into the open space, each 
 footstep, as it met the ground, seeming, in its proud and firm tread, 
 to move in more than sympathy with the wild notes of their native 
 mountains ; silent and still they moved along ; no voice spoke within 
 their ranks, save that of some command to " Close up — take ground 
 — to the right — rear rank — close order." Except such brief words 
 as these, or the low muttered praise of some veteran general as 
 he rode down the line, all was orderly and steady as on a parade. 
 Meanwhile, from an angle of the square, the band of an approaching 
 regiment was heard ; and to the inspiriting quickstep of " The Young 
 May Moon," the gallant 28th came forward, and took up their ground 
 opposite to the Highlanders. 
 
 The deep bell of the Hotel de Ville tolled one. The solemn sound 
 rang out and died away in many an echo, leaving upon the heart a 
 sense of some unknown depression ; and there was something like a 
 knell in the deep cadence of its bay ; and over many a cheek a rapid 
 trace of gloomy thought now passed, and true — too true, alas! — how 
 many now listened for the last time ! 
 
 " March ! March !" passed from front to rear ; and, as the bands 
 burst forth again in strains of spirit-stirring harmony, the 79th 
 moved on; the 28th followed; and as they debouched from the 
 "Place," the 71st and the 92d succeeded them. Like wave after 
 wave, the tide of armed men pressed on, and mounted the steep and 
 narrow streets towards the upper town of Brussels. Here Pack's 
 brigade was forming in the Place Royale; and a crowd of staff 
 officers dictating orders, and writing hurriedly on the drum heads, 
 were also seen. A troop of dragoons stood beside their horses at the 
 door of the Belle Vue, and several grooms with led horses walked to 
 and fro. 
 
 " Ride forward, sir, to the Bois de Cambre," said Picton, " and 
 pivot the troops on the road to Mont St. Jean. You will then wait 
 for my coming up, or further orders." 
 
 This command, which was given to me, I hastened to obey ; with 
 difficulty forcing my way through the opposing crowd, I at length 
 reached the Namur gate. Here I found a detachment of the Guards, 
 who as yet had got no orders to march, and were somewhat surprised 
 to learn the forward movement. Ten minutes' ride brought me to 
 the angle of the wood, whence I wrote a few lines to my host of the 
 Belle Vue, desiring him to send Mike after me with my horses and 
 my kit. The night was cold, dark, and threatening; the wind 
 howled with a low and wailing cry through the dark pine trees ; 
 and as I stood alone in the solitude, 1 had time to think of the 
 
714 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 eventful hours before me, and of that field which ere long was to 
 witness the triumph or the downfall of my country's arms. The 
 road which led through the forest of Soignies caught an additional 
 gloom from the dark, dense woods around. The faint moon only 
 showed at intervals; and a louring sky, without a single star, 
 stretched above us. It was an awful and a solemn thing to hear 
 the deep and thundering roll of that mighty column, awakening the 
 echoes of the silent forest as they went. So hurried was the move- 
 ment, that we had scarcely any artillery, and that of the lightest 
 calibre ; but the clash and clank of cavalry, the heavy monotonous 
 tramp of infantry was there ; and as division followed after division, 
 staff officers rode hurriedly to and fro, pressing on the eager troops. 
 
 " Move up there, 95th. Ah ! 42d, we've work before us !" said 
 Picton, as he rode up to the head of his brigade. The air of depres- 
 sion which usually sat upon his careworn features now changed for 
 a light and laughing look, while his voice was softened and subdued 
 into a low and pleasing tone. Although it was midsummer, the 
 roads were heavy and deep with mud. For some weeks previously 
 the weather had been rainy; and this, added to the haste and dis- 
 comfort of the night march, considerably increased the fatigue of 
 the troops. Notwithstanding these disadvantages, not a murmur nor 
 complaint was heard on any side. 
 
 " I'm unco glad to get a blink o' them, onyhow," said a tall, raw- 
 boned sergeant, who marched beside me. 
 
 " Faith, and maybe you won't be over pleased at the expression of 
 their faces, when you see them," said Mike, whose satisfaction at the 
 prospect before him was still as great as that of any other amid the 
 thousands there. 
 
 The day was slowly breaking, as a Prussian officer, splashed and 
 covered with foam, came galloping up at full speed past us. While 
 I was yet conjecturing what might be the intelligence he brought, 
 Power rode up to my side. 
 
 " We're in for it, Charley," said he. " The whole French army 
 are on the march ; and Blucher's aide-de-camp, who has arrived, 
 gives the number at one hundred and fifty thousand men. The 
 Prussians are drawn up between Saint Amand and Sombref, and 
 the Nassau and Dutch troops are at Quatre Bras, both expecting to t 
 be attacked." 
 
 " Quatre Bras was the original rallying spot for our troops, was it 
 not?" said I. 
 
 "Yes, yes. It is that we're now marching upon; but our Prus- 
 sian friend seems to think we shall arrive too late. Strong French 
 corps are already at Fresnes, under the command, it is said, of Mar- 
 shal Ney." 
 
THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S BALL. 715 
 
 The great object of the British Commander-in-Chief was to arrive 
 at Quatre Bras in sufficient time to effect his junction with Blucher 
 before a battle should be fought. To effect this no exertion was 
 spared : efforts almost superhuman were made ; for, however pre- 
 pared for a forward movement, it was impossible to have anticipated 
 anything until the intentions of Napoleon became clearly manifest. 
 While Nivelle and Chaiieroi were exposed to him on one side, Namur 
 lay open on the other ; and he could either march upon Brussels, 
 by Mons or Halle, or, as he subsequently attempted, by Quatre Bras 
 and Waterloo. No sooner, however, were his intentions unmasked, 
 and the line of his operations manifested, than Lord Wellington, 
 with an energy equal to the mighty occasion that demanded it, 
 poured down with the whole force under his command to meet him. 
 
 The march was a most distressing one — upwards of three-and- 
 twenty miles, with deep and cut-up roads, in hot, oppressive weather, 
 in a country almost destitute of water. Still the troops pressed for- 
 ward, and by noon came within hearing of the heavy cannonade in 
 front, which indicated the situation of the battle. From this time 
 aide-de-camp followed aide-de-camp in quick succession, who, from 
 their scared looks and hurried gestures, seemed to bode but ill for- 
 tune to the cause we cared for. What the precise situation of the 
 rival armies might be we knew not ; but we heard that the French 
 were in overwhelming numbers ; that the Dutch troops had aban- 
 doned their position ; the Hanoverians being driven back, the Duke 
 of Brunswick — the brave sovereign of a gallant people — fell charg- 
 ing at the head of his black hussars. From one phrase which con- 
 stantly met our ears, it seemed that the Bois de Bossu was the key 
 of the position. This had been won and lost repeatedly by both 
 sides ; and as we neared the battle-field, a despatch hurriedly an- 
 nounced to Picton the importance of at once recovering this con- 
 tested point. The 95th were ordered up to the attack. Scarcely 
 was the word given, when fatigue, thirst, and exhaustion were for- 
 gotten. With one cheer the gallant regiment formed into line, and 
 advanced upon the wood. Meanwhile, the Highland brigade moved 
 down towards the right ; the Royals and the 28th debouched upon 
 the left of the road ; and in less than half an hour after our arrival 
 our whole force was in action. 
 
 There is something appalling to the bravest army in coming up to 
 battle at the time that an overwhelming and conquering foe are 
 carrying victory triumphantly before them. Such was our position 
 at Quatre Bras. Bravely and gloriously as the forces of the Prince 
 of Orange fought, the day, however, was not theirs. The Bois de 
 Bossu, which opened to the enemy the road to Brussels, w T as held by 
 their tirailleurs ; the valley to the right was ridden over by their 
 
716 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 mounted squadrons, who with lance and sabre carried all before 
 them ; their dark columns pressed steadily on ; and a death-dealing 
 artillery swept the allied ranks from flank to flank. Such was the 
 field when the British arrived, and, throwing themselves into squares, 
 opposed their unaided force to the dreadful charges of the enemy. 
 The batteries showered down their storms of grape. Milhaud's 
 heavy dragoons, assisted by crowds of lancers, rushed upon the 
 squares, but they stood unbroken and undaunted, as sometimes upon 
 three sides of their position the infuriated horsemen of the enemy 
 came down. Once, and once only, were the French successful ; the 
 42d, who were stationed amid tall corn-fields, w T ere surrounded with 
 cavalry before they knew it. The word w r as given to form square ; 
 the Lancers were already among them, and, fighting back to back, 
 the gallant Highlanders met the foe. Fresh numbers poured down 
 upon them, and already half the regiment was disabled and their 
 colonel killed. These brave fellows were rescued by the 44th, who, 
 throwing in a withering volley, fixed bayonets and charged. Mean- 
 while, the 95th had won and lost the wood, which, now in the posses- 
 sion of the French tirailleurs, threatened to turn the left of our 
 position. It was at this time that a body of cavalry were seen 
 standing to the left of the Enghien road, as if in observation. 
 An officer, sent forward to reconnoitre, returned with the intelli- 
 gence that they were British troops, for he had seen their red uni- 
 forms. 
 
 " I can't think it sir," said Picton. " It is hardly possible that 
 any regiment from Enghien could have arrived already. Ride for- 
 ward, O'Malley, and if they be our fellows let them carry that 
 height yonder ; there are two guns there cutting the 92d to pieces." 
 
 I put spurs to my horse, cleared the road at once, and dashing 
 across the open space to the left of the wood, rode on in the direc- 
 tion of the horsemen. When I came within the distance of three 
 hundred yards I examined them with my glass, and could plainly 
 detect the scarlet coats and bright helmets. " Ha," thought I, " the 
 1st Dragoon Guards, no doubt." Muttering to myself thus much, I 
 galloped straight on; and waving my hand as I came near, an- 
 nounced that I was the bearer of an order. Scarcely had I done so, 
 when four horsemen, dashing spurs into their steeds, plunged hastily 
 out from the line, and, before I could speak, surrounded me, while 
 the foremost called out, as he flourished his sabre above his head, 
 "Rendezvous /" At the same moment I was seized on each side, and 
 led back a captive into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 " We guess your mistake, Capitaine," said the French officer before 
 whom 1 was brought. "We are the regiment of Berg, and our 
 scarlet uniform cost us dearly enough yesterday." 
 
QUATRE BRAS. 717 
 
 This allusion, I afterwards learned, was in reference to a charge 
 by a cuirassier regiment, which, in mistaking them for English, 
 poured a volley into them, and killed and wounded about twenty of 
 their number. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 QUATRE BRAS. 
 
 THOSE who have visited the field of Quatre Bras will remem- 
 ber that on the left of the high road, and nearly at the ex- 
 tremity of the Bois de Bossu, stands a large Flemish farm- 
 house, whose high, pitched roof, pointed gables, and quaint, 
 old-fashioned chimneys, remind one of the architecture so fre- 
 quently seen in Teniers's pictures. The house, which, with its 
 dependencies of stables, granaries, and out-houses, resembles a little 
 village, is surrounded by a large, straggling orchard of aged fruit- 
 trees, through which the approach from the high road leads. The 
 interior of this quaint dwelling, like all those of its class, is only 
 remarkable for a succession of small, dark, low-ceiled rooms, leading 
 one into another ; their gloomy aspect increased by the dark oak 
 furniture, the heavy armories, and old-fashioned presses, carved in 
 the grotesque taste of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 
 Those who visit it now may mark the trace of cannon-shot here and 
 there through the building ; more than one deep crack will attest 
 the force of the dread artillery. Still the traveller will feel struck 
 with the rural peace and quietude of the scene. The speckled oxen 
 that stand lowing in the deep meadows ; the splash of the silvery 
 trout as he sports in the bright stream that ripples along over its 
 gravelly bed ; the cawing of the old rooks in the tall beech-trees ; 
 but, more than all, the happy laugh of children, speak of the spot 
 as one of retired and tranquil beauty ; yet, when my eyes opened 
 upon it on the morning of the 17th of June, the scene presented 
 features of a widely different interest. The day was breaking as the 
 deep, full sound of the French bugles announced the reveille. For- 
 getful of where I was, I sprang from my bed and rushed to the 
 window ; the prospect before me at once recalled me to my recollec- 
 tion, and I remembered that I was a prisoner. The exciting events 
 around left me but little time and as little inclination to think over 
 my old misfortunes ; and I watched, with all the interest of a sol- 
 dier, the movement of the French troops in the orchard beneath. A 
 
718 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 squadron of dragoons, who seemed to have passed the night beside 
 their horses, lay stretched or seated in all the picturesque groupings 
 of a bivouac. Some were already up and stirring ; others leaned 
 half listlessly upon their elbows, and looked about as if unwilling to 
 believe the night was over ; and some, stretched in deep slumber, 
 woke not with the noise and tumult around them. The room in 
 which I was confined looked out upon the road to Charleroi ; I could 
 therefore see the British troops; and as the French army had fallen 
 back during the night, only an advance guard maintaining the posi- 
 tion, I was left to my unaided conjectures as to the fortune of the 
 preceding day of battle. What a period of anxiety and agitation 
 was that morning to me ; what would I not have given to learn the 
 result of the action since the moment of my capture ! Stubborn as 
 our resistance had been, we were evidently getting the worst of it ; 
 and if the Guards had not arrived in time, I knew we must have 
 been beaten. 
 
 I walked up and down my narrow room, tortured and agonized by 
 my doubts, now stopping to reason over the possibilities of success, 
 now looking from the window to try if, in the gesture and bearing 
 of those without, I could conjecture anything that passed. Too well 
 I knew the vaunting character of the French soldier, in defeat as in 
 victory, to put much confidence in their bearing. While, however, 
 I watched them with an eager eye, I heard the tramp of horsemen 
 coming along the paved causeway. From the moment my ear 
 caught the sound to that of their arrival at the gate of the orchard, 
 but few minutes had elapsed;- their pace was indeed a severe one, 
 and, as they galloped through the narrow path that led to the farm- 
 house, they never drew rein till they reached the porch. The 
 party consisted of about a dozen persons, whose plumed hats bespoke 
 them staff officers ; but their uniforms were concealed beneath their 
 great-coats. As they came along the picket sprang to their feet, and 
 the guard at the door beneath presented arms. This left no doubt 
 upon my mind that some officer of rank was among them, and as I 
 knew that Ney himself commanded on the preceding day, I thought 
 it might be he. The sound of voices beneath informed me that the 
 party occupied the room under that in which I was ; and, although 
 I listened attentively, I could hear nothing but the confused mur- 
 mur of persons conversing together without detecting even a word. 
 My thoughts now fell into another channel, and as I ruminated 
 over my old position, I heard the noise of the sentry at my door as 
 he brought his musket to the shoulder, and the next moment an 
 officer in the uniform of the Chasseurs of the Guard entered. Bow- 
 ing politely as he advanced to the middle of the room, he addressed 
 me thus : 
 
QUA THE BRAS. 719 
 
 " You speak French, sir?" and, as I replied in the affirmative, 
 continued : 
 
 " Will you then have the goodness to follow me this way ?" 
 
 Although burning with anxiety to learn what had taken place, 
 yet somehow I could not bring myself to ask the question. A secret 
 pride mingled with my fear that all had not gone well with us, and 
 I durst not expose myself to hear of our defeat from the lips of an 
 enemy. I had barely time to ask into whose presence I was about 
 to be ushered, when, with a slight smile of a strange meaning, he 
 opened the door and introduced me into the saloon. Although I 
 had seen at least twelve or fourteen horsemen arrive, there were but 
 three persons in the room as I entered. One of these, who sat 
 writing at a small table near the window, never lifted his head on 
 my entrance, but continued assiduously his occupation. Another, 
 a tall, fine-looking man of some sixty years or upwards, whose high, 
 bald forehead and drooping moustache, white as snow, looked in 
 every way the old soldier of the empire, stood leaning upon his 
 sabre ; while the third, whose stature, somewhat below the middle 
 size, was yet cast in a strong and muscular mould, stood with his 
 back to the fire, holding on his arms the skirts of a gray surtout 
 which he wore over his uniform ; his legs were cased in the tall 
 boots worn by the chasseur d cheval, and on his head a low cocked- 
 hat, without plume or feather, completed his costume. There was 
 something which, at the very moment of my entrance, struck me as 
 uncommon in his air and bearing, so much so that when my eyes 
 had once rested on his pale but placid countenance, his regular, 
 handsome, but somewhat stern features, I totally forgot the presence 
 of the others and looked only at him. 
 
 "What's your rank, sir?" said he, hurriedly, and with a tone 
 which bespoke command. 
 
 " I have none at present, save " 
 
 " Why do you wear your epaulettes then, sir ?" said he, harshly, 
 while from his impatient look and hurried gesture I saw that he put 
 no faith in my reply. 
 
 "I am an aide-de-camp to General Picton, but without regi- 
 mental rank." 
 
 " What was the British force under arms yesterday ?" 
 
 " I do not feel myself at liberty to give you any information as to 
 the number or the movements of our army." 
 
 "Dia?itre/ Diantre!" said he, slapping his boot with his horse- 
 whip, "do you know what you've been saying there, eh? Cani- 
 bronne, you heard him, did you ?" 
 
 " Yes, sire, and if your Majesty would permit me to deal with 
 him, I would before long have his information, if he possess any." 
 
720 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " Eh, gaillard" said he, as he pinched the old general's ear in jest, 
 " I believe you, with all my heart.'' 
 
 The truth flashed upon my mind. I was in the presence of the 
 Emperor himself. As, however, up to this moment I was uncon- 
 scious of his presence, I resolved now to affect ignorance of it 
 throughout. 
 
 " Had you despatches, sir ?" said he, turning towards me with 
 a look of stern severity. " Were any despatches found upon 
 him when he was taken V This latter question was directed to 
 the aide-de-camp who introduced me, and who still remained at 
 the door. 
 
 " No, sire, nothing was found upon him except this locket." 
 
 As he said these words he placed in Napoleon's hands the keep- 
 sake which St. Croix had left with me years before in Spain, 
 and which, as the reader may remember, was a miniature of the 
 Empress Josephine. 
 
 The moment the Emperor threw his eyes upon it, the flush 
 which excitement had called into his cheek disappeared at once : 
 he became pale as death, his very lips as bloodless as his wan 
 cheek. 
 
 " Leave me, Lefebvre ; leave me, Cambronne, for a moment ; I 
 will speak with this gentleman alone." 
 
 As the door closed upon them, he leaned his arm upon the man- 
 telpiece, and, with his head sunk upon his bosom, remained some 
 moments without speaking. 
 
 "Augure sinistre /" muttered he within his teeth, as his piercing 
 gaze was riveted upon the picture before him. 
 
 " Viola la troisilme fois ; pevt-etre la derntere." Then suddenly rous- 
 ing himself, he advanced close to me, and seizing me by the arm 
 with a grasp like iron, inquired : 
 
 " How came you by that picture ? The truth, sir ; mark me, the 
 truth." 
 
 Without showing any sign of feeling hurt at the insinuation of 
 this question, I detailed, in as few words as I could, the circum- 
 stance by which the locket became mine. Long before I had con- 
 cluded, however, I could mark that his attention flagged, and finally 
 wandered far away from the matter before him. 
 
 " Why will you not give me the information I look for ? I seek 
 for no breach of faith. The campaign is all but over. The Prus- 
 sians were beaten at Ligny, their army routed, their artillery cap- 
 tured, and ten thousand prisoners taken. Your troops and the 
 Dutch were conquered yesterday, and they are in full retreat on 
 Brussels. By to-morrow evening I shall date my bulletin from the 
 palace of Laeken. Antwerp will be in my possession within twenty- 
 
QUATRE BE AS. 721 
 
 four hours. Namur is already mine. Cambrortne, Lefebvre," cried 
 he, "cet homme-ld n J en sait rien" pointing to me as he spoke. " Let 
 us see the other." With this he motioned slightly with his hand, as 
 a sign for me to withdraw, and the next moment I was once more 
 in the solitude of my prison-room, thinking over the singular inter- 
 view I had jusHiad with the great Emperor. 
 
 How anxiously pass the hours of one who, deprived of other 
 means of information, is left to form his conjectures by some pass- 
 ing object or some chance murmur. The things which in the ordi- 
 nary course of life are passed by unnoticed and unregarded, are now 
 matters of moment. With what scrutiny he examines the features 
 of those whom he dare not question ! with what patient ear he 
 listens to each passing word ! Thus to me, a prisoner, the hours 
 went by tardily yet anxiously. No sabre clanked ; no war horse 
 neighed ; no heavy-booted cuirassier tramped in the court-yard 
 beneath my window without setting a hundred conjectures afloat as 
 to what was about to happen. For some time there had been a 
 considerable noise and bustle in and about the dwelling. Horse- 
 men came and went continually. The sounds of galloping could be 
 heard along the paved causeway ; then the challenge of the sentry 
 at the gate ; then the nearer tread of approaching steps, and many 
 voices speaking together, would seem to indicate that some messen- 
 ger had arrived with despatches. At length all these sounds became 
 hushed and still ; no longer were the voices heard, and except the 
 measured tread of the heavy cuirassier, as he paced on the flags 
 beneath, nothing was to be heard. My state of suspense, doubly 
 greater now than when the noise and tumult suggested food for con- 
 jecture, continued till towards noon, when a soldier in undress 
 brought me some breakfast, and told me to prepare speedily for 
 the road. 
 
 Scarcely had he left the room, when the rumbling noise of wag- 
 ons was heard below, and a train of artillery carts moved into the 
 little court-yard, loaded with wounded men. It was a sad and 
 frightful sight to see these poor fellows, as, crammed side by side in 
 the straw of the charrette, they lay, their ghastly wounds opening 
 with every motion of the wagon, while their wan, pale faces were 
 convulsed with agony and suffering. Of every rank, from the sous- 
 lieutenant to the humble soldier, from every arm of the service, 
 from the heavy Cuirassier of the Guard to the light and intrepid 
 tirailleur, they were there; I well remember one, an artilleryman 
 of the Guard, who, as they lifted him forth from the cart, presented 
 the horrifying spectacle of one both of whose legs had been carried 
 away by a cannon-shot. Pale, cold, and corpse-like, he lay in their 
 arms ; his head lay heavily to one side, and his arms fell passively 
 46 
 
722 CHARLES O'M ALLEY, 
 
 as in death. It was at this moment that a troop of lancers, the ad- 
 vanced guard of D'Erlon's division, came trotting up the road. The 
 cry of " Vive PEmpereur I" burst from them as they approached ; its 
 echo rang within the walls of the farm-house, when suddenly the 
 dying man, as though some magic touch had called him back to life 
 and vigor, sprang up erect between his bearers, his"filmy eye flash- 
 ing fire, a burning spot of red coloring his bloodless cheek ; he cast 
 one wild and hurried look around him, like one called back from 
 death to look upon the living, and, as he raised his blood-stained 
 hand above his head, shouted, in a heart-piercing cry, " Vive VEmpe- 
 reur!" The effort was his last. It was the expiring tribute of 
 allegiance to the chief he adored. The blood spouted in cataracts 
 from his half-closed wounds, a convulsive spasm worked through 
 his frame, his eyes rolled fearfully, as his outstretched hands seemed 
 striving to clutch some object before them — and he was dead. Fresh 
 arrivals of wounded continued to pour in ; and now I thought I 
 could detect at intervals the distant noise of the cannonade ; the 
 wind, however, was from the southward, and the sounds were too 
 indistinct to be relied on. 
 
 " Allons! allons ! mon cher," said a rough but good-natured-look- 
 ing fellow, as he strode into my room. He was the quartermaster of 
 Milhaud's dragoons, under whose care I was now placed, and came 
 to inform me that we were to set out immediately. 
 
 Monsieur Bonnard was a character in his way ; and if it were not 
 so near the conclusion of my history, I should like to present him 
 to my readers. As it is, I shall merely say that he was a thorough 
 specimen of one class of his countrymen — a loud talker, a loud 
 swearer, a vaporing, boasting, overbearing, good-natured, and even 
 soft-hearted fellow, who firmly believed that Frenchmen were the 
 climax of the species, and Napoleon the climax of Frenchmen. 
 Being a great bavard, he speedily told me all that had taken place 
 during the last two days. From him I learned that the Prussians 
 had really been beaten at Ligny, and had fallen back, he knew not 
 where ; they were, however, he said, hotly pursued by Grouchy, 
 with thirty-five thousand men, while the Emperor himself was 
 now following the British and Dutch armies with seventy thousand 
 men. 
 
 " You see," continued he, " V affaire est faite I — who can resist the 
 Emperor ?" 
 
 These were sad tidings for me ; and although I did not place im- 
 plicit confidence in my informant, I had still my fears that much of 
 what he said was true. 
 
 "And the British, now," said I; "what direction have they 
 taken?" 
 
QUA THE BRAS. 723 
 
 " Bah ! they're in retreat on Brussels, and will probably capitu- 
 late to-morrow." 
 
 " Capitulate !" 
 
 "Oui, oui: ne vousfachez pas, camarade" said he, laughing. "What 
 could you do against Napoleon ? You did not expect to beat him, 
 surely ? But come, we must move on ; I have my orders to bring 
 you to Planchenoit this evening, and our horses are tired enough 
 already." 
 
 " Mine, methinks, should be fresh," said I. 
 
 " Parbleu non" replied he ; " he has twice made the journey to 
 Fresnes this morning with despatches for Marshal Ney. The Empe- 
 ror is enraged with the Marshal for having retreated last night, 
 having the wood in his possession. He says he should have waited 
 till daybreak, and then fallen upon your retreating columns. As it 
 is, you are getting away without much loss. Sacriste, that was a 
 fine charge !" These last words he muttered to himself, adding, 
 between his teeth, " sixty-four killed and wounded." 
 
 " What was that ? who were they ?" said I. 
 
 " Our fellows," replied he, frankly. " The Emperor ordered up 
 two twelve-pounders and eight squadrons of lancers ; they fell upon 
 your light dragoons in a narrow part of the high road. But suddenly 
 we heard a noise in front ; your hussars fell back, and a column of 
 your heavy dragoons came thundering down upon us. Parbleu ! they 
 swept over us as if we were broken infantry ; and there ! there !" 
 said he, pointing to the court-yard, from whence the groans of the 
 wounded still rose, " there are the fruits of that terrible charge." 
 
 I could not restrain an outbreak of triumphant pleasure at this 
 gallant feat of my countrymen. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the honest Quartermaster, " it was a fine thing ; 
 but a heavy reckoning is at hand. But come, let us take the road." 
 
 In a few moments more I found myself seated upon a heavy Nor- 
 man horse, whose lumbering demi-peak saddle was nearly cleft in 
 two by a sabre-cut. 
 
 " Ay, ay," said Monsieur Bonnard, as he saw my eye fixed upon 
 the spot, " it was one of your fellows did that ; and the same cut 
 clove poor Pierre from the neck to the seat." 
 
 " I hope," said I, laughing, "the saddle may not prove an un- 
 lucky one." 
 
 " No, no," said the Frenchman, seriously ; " it has paid its debt 
 to fate." 
 
 As we pressed on our road, which, broken by the heavy guns, and 
 ploughed up in many places by the artillery, was nearly impassable, 
 we could distinctly hear from time to time the distant boom of the 
 large guns, as the retiring and pursuing armies replied to each 
 
T24 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 other ; while behind us, but still a long way off, a dark mass- ap- 
 peared on the horizon : they were the advancing columns of Ney's 
 division. 
 
 " Have the troops come in contact more than once this morning?" 
 
 " Not closely," said the Quartermaster. " The armies have kept 
 a respectful distance ; they were like nothing I can think of," said 
 the figurative Frenchman, "except two hideous serpents wallow- 
 ing in mire, and vomiting at each other whole rivers of fire and 
 flame." 
 
 As we approached Planchenoit, we came up to the rear-guard of 
 the French army ; from them we learned that Ney's division, con- 
 sisting of the eighth corps, had joined the Emperor ; that the 
 British were still in retreat, but that nothing of any importance had 
 occurred between the rival armies, the French merely firing their 
 heavy guns from time to time, to ascertain by the reply the position 
 of the retreating forces. The rain poured down in torrents; gusts 
 of cold and stormy wind swept across the wide plains, or moaned 
 sorrowfully through the dense forest. As I rode on by the side of 
 my companion, I could not help remarking how little the effects of 
 a fatiguing march and unfavorable weather were apparent on those 
 around me. The spirit of excited gayety pervaded every rank ; and, 
 unlike the stern features which the discipline of our service enforces, 
 the French soldiers were talking, laughing, and even singing, as 
 they marched ; the canteens passed freely from hand to hand, and 
 jests and toasts flew from front to rear along the dark columns ; 
 many carried their loaves of dark rye-bread on the tops of their 
 bayonets ; and to look upon that noisy and tumultuous mass as they 
 poured along, it would have needed a practised eye to believe them 
 the most disciplined of European armies. 
 
 The sun was just setting as, mounting a ridge of high land beside 
 the high road, my companion pointed with his finger to a small 
 farm-house, which, standing alone in the plain, commanded an ex- 
 tensive view on every side of it. 
 
 "There," said he, "there is the quartier g&n&ral ; the Emperor 
 sleeps there to-night. The King of Holland will afford him a bed 
 to-morrow night." 
 
 The dark shadows of the coming night were rapidly falling as I 
 strained my eyes to trace the British position. A hollow, rumbling 
 sound announced the movement of artillery in our front. 
 
 "What is it, Arnotte?" said the Quartermaster to a dragoon officer 
 who rode past. 
 
 " It is nothing," replied the other, laughing, " but a ruse of the 
 Emperor. He wishes to ascertain if the enemy are in force, or if 
 we have only a strong rear-guard before us." 
 
QUATRE BRAS. 725 
 
 As he spoke, fifteen heavy guns opened their fire, and the still air 
 reverberated with a loud thunder. The sound had not died away — 
 the very smoke lay yet heavily upon the moist earth — when forty 
 pieces of British cannon rang out their answer, and the very plain 
 trembled beneath the shock. 
 
 " Ha ! they are there, then," exclaimed the dragoon, as his eyes 
 flashed with ecstasy. " Look ! see ! the artillery are limbering up 
 already. The Emperor is satisfied." 
 
 And so it was. A dark column of twelve hundred horse that ac- 
 companied the guns into the plain, now wheeled slowly round, and 
 wound their long track far away to the right. The rain fell in tor- 
 rents; the wind was hushed ; and, as the night fell in darkness, the 
 columns moved severally to their destinations. The bivouacs were 
 formed, the watch-fires were lighted, and seventy thousand men 
 and two hundred pieces of cannon occupied the heights of Plan- 
 chenoit. 
 
 " My orders are to bring you to La Caillon," said the Quarter- 
 master ; " and if you only can spur your jaded horse into a trot, we 
 shall soon reach it." 
 
 About a hundred yards from the little farm-house stood a small 
 cottage of a peasant. Here some officers of Marshal Soult's staff 
 had taken up their quarters, and thither my guide now bent his 
 steps. 
 
 "Comment! Bonnard" said an aide-de-camp, as we rode up, "ano- 
 ther prisoner? Sacrebleu! we shall have the whole British staff 
 among us. You are in better luck than your countryman, the 
 General, I hope," said the aide-de-camp ; " his is a sad affair ; and 
 I'm sorry for it, too ; he's a fine, soldier-like looking fellow." 
 
 " Pray, what has happened?" said I. " To what do you allude?" 
 
 " Merely to one of your people who has just been taken with some 
 letters and papers of Bourmont's in his possession. The Emperor 
 is in no very amicable humor towards that traitor, and resolves to 
 pay off some part of his debt on his British correspondent." 
 
 " How cruel ! how unjust !" 
 
 " Why, yes, it is hard, I confess, to be shot for the fault of another. 
 Mais que voulez-vous ?" 
 
 "And when is this atrocious act to take place?" 
 
 " By daybreak to-morrow," said he, bowing as he turned towards 
 the hut. " Meanwhile, let me counsel you, if you would not make 
 another in the party, to reserve your indignation for your return to 
 England." 
 
 " Come along," said the Quartermaster ; " I find they have got 
 quarters for you in the granary of the farm. I'll not forget you at 
 supper time." 
 
726 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 So saying, he gave his horse io an orderly, and led me by a little 
 path to a back entrance of the dwelling. Had I time or inclination 
 for such a scene, I might have lingered long to gaze at the spectacle 
 before me. The guard held their bivouac around the quarters of the 
 Emperor; and here, beside the watch-fires, sat the bronzed and 
 scarred veterans who had braved every death and danger from the 
 Pyramids to the Kremlin. On every side I heard the names of those 
 whom history has already consigned to immortality ; and, as the 
 fitful blaze of a wood-fire flashed from within the house, I could 
 mark the figure of one who, with his hands behind his back, walked 
 leisurely to and fro, his head leaned a little forward, as though in 
 deep thought ; but as the light fell upon his pale and placid features, 
 there was nothing there to indicate the stormy strife of hope and 
 fear that raged beneath. From the rapid survey I took around, I 
 was roused by an officer, who, saluting me, politely desired me to 
 follow him. We mounted a flight of stone steps, which, outside the 
 wall of the building, led to the upper story of a large but ruined 
 granary. Here a sentry was posted, who permitting us to pass for- 
 ward, I found myself in a small, mean-looking apartment, whose few 
 articles of coarse furniture were dimly lighted by the feeble glimmer 
 of a lamp. At the further end of the room sat a man, wrapped in a 
 large blue cavalry cloak, whose face, covered with his hands as he 
 bent downwards, was completely concealed from view. The noise 
 of the opening door did not appear to arouse him, nor did he notice 
 my approach. As I entered, a faint sigh broke from him, as he 
 turned his back upon the light ; but he spoke not a word. 
 
 I sat for some time in silence, unwilling to obtrude myself upon 
 the sorrows of one to whom I was unknown ; and, as I walked up 
 and down the gloomy chamber, my thoughts became riveted so com- 
 pletely upon my own fortunes that I ceased to remember my fellow- 
 prisoner. The hours passed thus lazily along, when the door sud- 
 denly opened, and an officer in the dress of a lancer of the Guard 
 stood for an instant before me, and then springing forward, clasped 
 me with both hands, and called out : 
 
 " Charles, mon ami, c'est bien toi f" 
 
 The voice recalled to my recollection what his features, altered by 
 time and years, had failed to do. It was Jules St. Croix, my former 
 prisoner in the Peninsula. I cannot paint the delight with which 
 I saw him again ; his presence now, while it brought back the 
 memory of some of my happiest days, also assured me that I was 
 not friendless. 
 
 His visit was a brief one, for he was in attendance on Marshal 
 Lobau's staff. In the few minutes, however, of his stay, he said : 
 
 " I have a debt to pay, Charles ; and have come to discharge it. 
 
QUA TEE BE AS. . 727 
 
 In an hour hence I shall leave this with despatches for the left of 
 our line. Before I go, I'll come here with two or three others, as it 
 were, to wish you a good night. I'll take care to carry a second 
 cloak and a foraging cap ' K I'll provide a fast horse ; you shall ac- 
 company us for some distance. I'll see you safe across our pickets : 
 for the rest you must trust to yourself. C'est arrange, n'est-ce pas?" 
 
 One firm grasp of his hand, to which I responded by another, fol- 
 lowed, and he was gone. 
 
 Everything concurred to show me that a tremendous battle must 
 ensue on the morrow, if the British forces but held their position. 
 It was then with a feeling of excitement approaching to madness 
 that I saw my liberty before me ; that once more I should join in 
 the bold charge and the rude shock of arms, hear the wild cry of 
 my gallant countrymen, and either live to triumph with them in 
 victory, or wait not to witness our defeat. Thus flew my hopes, as 
 with increasing impatience I waited St. Croix's coming, and with 
 anxious heart listened to every sound upon the stairs which might 
 indicate his approach. At length he came. I heard the gay and 
 laughing voices of his companions as they came along; the door 
 opened, and affecting the familiarity of old acquaintance, to deceive 
 the sentry, they all shook me by the hand, and spoke in terms of 
 intimacy. 
 
 " Labedoyere is below," said St. Croix, in a whisper ; " you must 
 wait here a few moments longer, and I'll return for you ; put on the 
 cloak and cap, and speak not a word as you pass out. The sentry 
 will suppose that one of our party has remained behind ; for I shall 
 call out as if speaking to him, as I leave the room." 
 
 The voice of an officer calling in tones of impatience for the party 
 to come down, cut short the interview, and again assuring me of 
 their determination to stand by me, they left the chamber, and de- 
 scended into the court. Scarcely had the door closed behind them, 
 when my fellow-prisoner, whom I had totally forgotten, sprang on 
 his legs, and came towards me. His figure screening the lamplight 
 as he stood, prevented my recognizing his features; but the first 
 tones of his voice told me who he was. 
 
 " Stay, sir," cried he, as he placed his hand upon my arm ; " I 
 have overheard your project. In an hour hence you will be free. 
 Can you — will you perform a service for one who will esteem it not 
 the less that it will be the last that man can render him? The 
 few lines which I have written here with my pencil are for my 
 daughter." 
 
 I could bear no more, and called out in a voice broken as his 
 own, 
 
 " Oh, be not deceived, sir. Will you, even in an hour like this, 
 
728 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 accept a service from one whom you have banished from your 
 house ?" 
 
 The old man started as I spoke ; his hand trembled till it shook 
 my very arm, and, after a pause and with an effort to seem calm and 
 collected, he added : 
 
 " My hours are few. Some despatches of General Bourmont with 
 which the Duke entrusted me were found in my possession. My 
 sentence is a hurried one — and it is death ! By to-morrow's sun- 
 rise " 
 
 " Stay, stay !" said I. "You shall escape ; my life is in no danger. 
 I have, as you see, even friends among the staff-, besides, I have 
 done nothing to compromise or endanger my position." 
 
 " No, sir," said he, sternly, " I will not act such a part as this. 
 The tears you have seen in these old eyes are not for myself. I fear 
 not death. Better it were it should have come upon the field of 
 glorious battle; but as it is, my soldier's honor remains intact, 
 untainted." 
 
 " You refuse the service on account of him who proffers it," said 
 I, as I fell heavily upon a seat, my head bowed upon my bosom. 
 
 "Not so, not so, my boy," replied he, kindly. "The near apr 
 proach of death, like the fading light of day, gives us a longer and 
 a clearer view before us. I feel that I have wronged you ; that I 
 have imputed to you the errors of others ; but, believe me, if I have 
 wronged you, I have punished my own heart ; for, Charles, I have 
 loved you like a son." 
 
 " Then prove it," said I, " and let me act towards you as towards 
 a father. You will not? You refuse me still? Then, by Heaven, 
 I remain to share your fate ! I well know the temper of him who 
 has sentenced you, and that by one word of mine my destiny is 
 sealed forever." 
 
 " No, no, boy ! This is but rash and insane folly. Another year 
 or two, nay, perhaps a few months more, and in the common course 
 of nature I had ceased to be ; but you, with youth, with fortune, and 
 with hope " 
 
 " Oh, not with hope !" said I, in a voice of agony. 
 
 " Nay, say not so," replied he, calmly, while a sickly smile played 
 sadly over his face; "you will give this letter to my daughter, you 
 will tell her that we parted as friends should part ; and if, after that, 
 when time shall have smoothed down her grief, and sorrow be rather 
 a dark dream of the past than a present suffering ; if, then, you love 
 her, and if " 
 
 " Oh, tempt me not thus !" said I, as the warm tears gushed from 
 my eyes ; " lead me not thus astray from what my honor tells me I 
 should do. Hark ! they are coming already. I hear the clank of 
 
QUATRE BRAS. 729 
 
 their sabres ; they are mounting the steps ; not a moment is to be 
 lost ! Do you refuse me still ?" 
 
 " 1 do," replied he, firmly j " I am resolved to abide the course of 
 fate." 
 
 " Then so do I," cried I, as, folding my arms, I sat down beside 
 the window, determined on my course. 
 
 " Charley, Charley," said he, stooping over me, " my friend, my 
 last hope, the protector of my child " 
 
 " I will not go," said I, in a hollow whisper. 
 
 Already they were at the door ; I heard -their voices as they chal- 
 lenged the sentry ; I heard his musket as he raised it to his shoulder. 
 The thought flashed across me — I jumped up, and, throwing the 
 loose mantle of the French dragoon around him, and replacing his 
 own with the foraging cap of St. Croix, I sprang into a corner of 
 the room, and, seating myself so as to conceal my face, waited the 
 result. The door opened, the party entered, laughing and talking 
 together. 
 
 " Come, Eugene," said one, taking Sir George by the arm, " you 
 have spent long enough time here to learn the English language. 
 We shall be late at the outpost. * Messieurs les Anglais, good-night, 
 good-night !" 
 
 This was repeated by the others as they passed out with Sir 
 George Dashwood among them, who, seeing that my determination 
 was not to be shaken, and that any demur on his part must neces- 
 sarily compromise both, yielded to a coup de main that he never 
 would have consented to from an appeal to his reason. The door 
 closed ; their steps died away in the distance. Again a faint sound 
 struck my ear ; it was the challenge of the sentry beneath, and I 
 heard the tramp of horses' feet. All was still, and in a burst of 
 heartfelt gratitude I sank upon my knees, and thanked God that he 
 was safe. 
 
 So soundly did I sleep, that not before I was shaken several times 
 by the shoulder could I awake on the following morning. 
 
 " I thought there were two prisoners here," said a gruff voice, as 
 an old moustached-looking veteran cast a searching look about the 
 room. "However, we shall have enough of them before sunset. 
 Get — get up ; Monsieur le Due de Dalmatie desires some information 
 you can give him." 
 
 As he said this, he led me from the room, and, descending the 
 flight of stone steps, we entered the court-yard. It was but four 
 o'clock, the rain still falling in torrents, yet every one was up and 
 stirring. 
 
 " Mount this horse," said my gruff friend, " and come with me 
 towards the left ; the Marshal has already gone forward." 
 
730 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 The heavy mist of the morning, darkened by the louring clouds 
 which almost rested on the earth, prevented our seeing above a 
 hundred yards before us; but the hazy light of the watch-fires 
 showed me the extent of the French position, as it stretched away 
 along the ridge towards the Halle road. We rode forward at a trot, 
 but in the deep clayey soil we sank at each moment to our horses' 
 fetlocks. I turned my head as I heard the tramp and splash of 
 horsemen behind, and perceived that I was followed by two dra- 
 goons, who, with their carbines on the rest, kept their eyes steadily 
 upon me to prevent any chance of escape. In a slight hollow of 
 the ground before us stood a number of horsemen, who conversed 
 together in a low tone as we came up. 
 
 " There ! that is the Marshal," said my companion, in a whisper, 
 as we joined the party. 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur le Due," said an engineer colonel, who stood be- 
 side Soult's horse, with a colored plan in his hand — " Yes, that is 
 the Chateau de Goumont, yonder. It is, as you perceive, completely 
 covered by the rising ground marked here; they will, doubtless, 
 place a strong artillery force in this quarter." 
 
 " Ah ! who is this ?" said the Marshal, turning his eyes suddenly 
 upon me, and then casting a look of displeasure around him, lest I 
 should have overheard any portion of their conversation. "You 
 are deficient in cavalry, it would appear, sir ?" said he to me. 
 
 " You must feel, Monsieur le Due," said I, calmly, " how impos- 
 sible it is for me, as a man of honor and a soldier, to afford you any 
 information as to the army I belong to." 
 
 " I do not see that, sir. You are a prisoner in our hands ; your 
 treatment, your fortune, your very life depends on us. Besides, sir, 
 when French officers fall into the power of your people, I have heard 
 they meet not very ceremonious treatment." 
 
 " Those who say so, say falsely," said I, " and wrong both your 
 countrymen and mine. In any case " 
 
 " The Guards are an untried force in your service," said he, with 
 a mixture of inquiry and assertion. 
 
 I replied not a word. 
 
 "You must see, sir," continued he, "that all the chances are 
 against you. The Prussians beaten, the Dutch discouraged, the 
 Belgians only waiting for victory to incline to our standard, to desert 
 your ranks, and pass over to ours ; while your troops, scarcely forty 
 thousand, nay, I might say, not more than thirty-five thousand. Is 
 it not so?" 
 
 Here was another question, so insidiously conveyed that even a 
 change of feature on my part might have given the answer. A half 
 smile, however, and a slight bow was all my reply ; while Soult mut- 
 
QUATRE BRAS. 731 
 
 tered something between his teeth, which called forth a laugh from 
 those around him. 
 
 " You may retire, sir, a little," said he, dryly, to me. 
 
 Not sorry to be freed from the awkwardness of my position, I fell 
 back to the little rising ground behind. Although the rain poured 
 down without ceasing, the rising sun dispelled, in part, the heavy 
 vapor, and by degrees different portions of the wide plain presented 
 themselves to view ; and as the dense masses of fog moved slowly 
 along, I could detect, but still faintly, the outline of the large, 
 irregular biylding which I had heard them call the Chateau de Gou- 
 mont, and from whence I could hear the clank of masonry, as at in- 
 tervals the wind bore the sounds towards me. These were the sap- 
 pers piercing the walls for musketry ; and this I could now perceive 
 was looked upon as a position of no small importance. Surrounded 
 by a straggling orchard of aged fruit trees, the chateau lay some 
 hundred yards in advance of the British line, commanded by two 
 eminences, one of which, in the possession of the French, was 
 already occupied by a park of eleven guns ; of the other I knew 
 nothing, except the passing glance I had obtained of its position on 
 the map. The second corps, under Jerome Bonaparte, with Foy and 
 Kellerman's brigade of light artillery, stretched behind us. On the 
 right of these came D'Erlon's corps, extending to a small wood, 
 which my companion told me was Frischermont ; while Lobau's 
 division was stationed to the extreme right towards St. Lambert, to 
 maintain the communication with Grouchy at Wavre, or, if need be, 
 to repel the advance of the Prussians, and prevent their junction 
 with the Anglo-Dutch army. The Imperial Guard with the cavalry 
 formed the reserve. Such was, in substance, the information given 
 me by my guide, who seemed to expatiate with pleasure over the 
 magnificent array of battle, while he felt a pride in displaying his 
 knowledge of the various divisions and their leaders. 
 
 " I see the Marshal moving towards the right," said he ; " we had 
 better follow him." 
 
 It was now about eight o'clock, as from the extremity of the line 
 I could see a party of horsemen advancing at a sharp canter. 
 
 " That must be Ney," said my companion. " See how rashly he 
 approaches the English lines !" 
 
 And so it was. The party in question rode fearlessly down the 
 slope, and did not halt until they reached within about three hun- 
 dred yards of what appeared a ruined church. 
 
 " What is that building yonder ?" 
 
 " That— that," replied he, after a moment's thought, "that must 
 be La Haye Sainte ; and yonder, to the right of it, is the road to 
 Brussels. There, look now! your people are in motion. See! i> 
 
732 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 column is moving towards the right, and the cavalry are defiling on 
 the other side of the road. I was mistaken — that cannot be Ney. 
 Heavens ! it was the Emperor himself, and here he comes." 
 
 As he spoke, the party galloped forward, and pulled up short 
 within a few yards of where we stood. 
 
 " Ha !" cried he, as his sharp glance fell upon me, " there is my 
 taciturn friend of Quatre Bras. You see, sir, I can dispense with 
 your assistance now ; the chess-board is before me ;" and then added 
 in a tone he intended not to be overheard, " Everything depends on 
 Grouchy." 
 
 " Well, Haxo," he called out to an officer who galloped up, cha- 
 peau in hand, " what say you ? are they entrenched in that posi- 
 tion ?" 
 
 " No, sire, the ground is open, and in two hours more will be firm 
 enough for the guns to manoeuvre." 
 
 " Now, then, for breakfast," said Napoleon, as with an easy and 
 tranquil smile he turned his horse's head, and cantered gently up 
 the heights towards La Belle Alliance. As he approached the lines 
 the cry of " Vive VEmpereur /" burst forth. Regiment after regiment 
 took it up ; and from the distant wood of Frischermont to the far 
 left beside Merke-braine, the shout resounded. So sudden, so sim- 
 ultaneous was the outbreak, that he himself, accustomed as he well 
 was to the enthusiasm of his army, seemed, as he reined in his horse, 
 and looked with proud and elated eye upon the countless thousands, 
 astounded and amazed. He lifted with slow and graceful action his 
 unplumed hat above his head, and while he bowed that proud front 
 before which kings have trembled, the acclamation burst forth anew, 
 and rent the very air. 
 
 At this moment the sun shone brilliantly out from the dark clouds, 
 and flashed upon the shining blades and glistening bayonets along 
 the line. A dark and louring shadow hung gloomily over the 
 British position, while the French sparkled and glittered in the 
 sunbeams. His quick glance passed with lightning speed from one 
 to the other ; and I thought that, in his look, upturned to»heaven, 
 I could detect the flitting thought which bade him hope it was an 
 augury. The bands of the Imperial Guard burst forth in joyous and 
 triumphant strains, and amid the still repeated cries of "VEmpereur 1 
 VEmpereur /" he rode slowly along towards La Belle Alliance. 
 
WATERLOO. 733 
 
 CHAPTER LV 
 
 WATEKLOO. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S first intention was to open the battle by an 
 attack upon the extreme right ; but Ney, who returned from 
 an observation of the ground, informed him that a rivulet, 
 swollen by the late rains, had now become a foaming torrent, per- 
 fectly impassable to infantry. To avoid this difficulty, he abandoned 
 his favorite manoeuvre of a flank movement, and resolved to- attack 
 the enemy by the centre. Launching his cavalry and artillery by 
 the road to Brussels, he hoped thus to cut off the communication of 
 the British with their own left, as well as with the Prussians, for 
 whom he trusted that Grouchy would be more than a match. 
 
 The reserves were in consequence all brought up to the centre. 
 Seven thousand cavalry and a massive artillery assembled upon the 
 heights of La Belle Alliance, and waited but the order to march. It 
 was eleven o'clock, and Napoleon mounted his horse and rode slowly 
 along the line; again the cry of "Vive V Empereur /" resounded, and 
 the bands of the various regiments struck up their spirit-stirring 
 strains as the gorgeous staff moved along. On the British side all 
 was tranquil ; and still the different divisions appeared to have 
 taken up their ground, and the long ridge from Terla-Haye to 
 Merke-braine bristled with bayonets. Nothing could possibly be 
 more equal than the circumstances of the field. Each army pos- 
 sessed an eminence whence their artillery might play. A broad and 
 slightly undulating valley lay between both. The ground permitted 
 in all places both cavalry and infantry movements, and except the 
 crumbling walls of the Chateau of Hougoumont, or the farm-house 
 of La Haye Sainte, both of which were occupied by the British, no 
 advantage, either by nature or art, inclined to either side. It was a 
 fair stand-up fight. It was the mighty tournament, not only of the 
 two greatest nations, but the two deadliest rivals and bitterest 
 enemies, led on by the two greatest military geniuses that the world 
 has ever seen — it might not be too much to say or ever will see. As 
 for me, condemned to be an inactive spectator of the mighty strug- 
 gle, doomed to witness all the deep-laid schemes and well-devised 
 plans of attack which were destined for the overthrow of my coun- 
 try's arms, my state was one of torture and suspense. I sat upon 
 the little rising ground of Eossomme. Before me, in the valley, 
 where yet the tall corn waved in ripe luxuriance, stood the quiet and 
 peaceful-looking old Chateau of Hougoumont, and the blossoming 
 branches of the orchard ; the birds were gayly singing their songs, 
 the shrill whistle of the fatal musketry was to be heard, and through 
 
734 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 my glass I could detect the uniform of the soldiers who held the 
 position, and my heart beat anxiously and proudly as I recognized 
 the Guards. In the orchard and the garden were stationed some 
 riflemen — at least their dress and the scattered order they assumed 
 bespoke them such. While I looked, the tirailleurs of Jerome's 
 division advanced from the front of the line, and, descending the 
 hill in a sling trot, broke into scattered parties, keeping up, as they 
 went, a desultory and irregular fire. The English skirmishers, less 
 expert in this peculiar service, soon fell back, and the head of 
 Eeille's brigade began their march towards the chateau. The Eng- 
 lish artillery is unmasked and opens its fire. Kellermann advances 
 at a gallop his twelve pieces of artillery; the chateau is concealed 
 from view by the dense smoke, and as the attack thickens, fresh 
 troops pour forward, the artillery thundering on either side ; the 
 entire lines of both armies stand motionless spectators of the terrific 
 combat, while every eye is turned towards that devoted spot from 
 whose dense mass of cloud and smoke the bright glare of artillery 
 is flashing, as the crashing masonry, the burning rafters, and the 
 loud yell of battle add to the frightful interest of the scene. For 
 above an hour the tremendous attack continues without cessation ; 
 the artillery stationed upon the height has now found its range, and 
 every ringing shot tells upon the tottering walls ; some wounded 
 soldiers return faint and bleeding from the conflict, but there are 
 few who escape. A crashing volley of firearms is now heard from 
 the side where the orchard stands ; a second and a third succeed, 
 one after the other, as rapid as lightning itself. A silence follows, 
 when, after a few moments, a deafening cheer bursts forth, and an 
 aide-de-camp gallops up to say that the orchard has been carried at 
 the point of the bayonet, the Nassau sharpshooters who held it 
 having, after a desperate resistance, retired before the irresistible 
 onset of the French infantry. "A moil maintenant I" said General 
 Foy, as he drew his sabre, and rode down to the head of his splendid 
 division, which, anxious for the word to advance, were standing in 
 the valley. "En avant I mes braves" cried he, while, pointing to the 
 chateau with his sword, he dashed boldly forward. Scarcely had he 
 advanced a hundred yards, when a cannon-shot, " ricocheting" as 
 it went, struck his horse in the counter, and rolled him dead on the 
 plain. Disengaging himself from the lifeless animal, he at once 
 sprang to his feet, and hurried forward. The column was soon hid 
 from my view, and I was left to mourn over the seemingly inevita- 
 ble fate that impended over my gallant countrymen. 
 
 In the intense' interest which chained me to this part of the field, 
 I had not noticed till this moment that the Emperor and his staff 
 were standing scarcely thirty yards from where I was. Napoleon, 
 
WATERLOO. 735 
 
 seated upon a gray, almost white, Arabian, had suffered the reins to 
 fall loosely on the neck, as he held with both hands his telescope to 
 his eye ; his dress, the usual green coat with white facings, the uni- 
 form of the chasseurs a cheval, was distinguished merely by the cross 
 of the Legion ; his high boots were splashed and mud-stained, from 
 riding through the deep and clayey soil ; his compact and clean-" 
 bred charger looked also slightly blown and heated ; but he himself, 
 and I watched his features well, looked calm, composed, and tran- 
 quil. How anxiously did I scrutinize that face ; with what a throb- 
 bing heart did I canvass every gesture, hoping to find some passing 
 trait of doubt, of difficulty, or of hesitation ; but none was there : 
 unlike one who looked upon the harrowing spectacle of a battle- 
 field, whose all was depending on the game before him; gambling 
 with one throw his last, his only stake, and that the empire of the 
 world. Yet, could I picture to myself one who felt at peace within 
 himself — naught of reproach — naught of regret to move or stir his 
 spirit, whose tranquil barque had glided over the calm sea of life, 
 unruffled by the breath of passion — I should have fancied such was 
 he. 
 
 Beside him sat one whose flashing eye and changing features 
 looked in every way his opposite. Watching with intense anxiety 
 the scene of the deadly struggle round the chateau, every look, 
 every gesture, told the changing fortune of the moment ; his broad 
 and brawny chest glittered with orders and decorations, but his 
 heavy brow and louring look, flushed almost black with excitement, 
 could not easily be forgotten. It was Soult, who, in his quality of 
 Major-General, accompanied the Emperor throughout the day. 
 
 " They have lost it again, sire," said the Marshal, passionately ; 
 " and see, they are forming beneath the cross-fire of the artillery ; 
 the head of the column keeps not its formation two minutes together. 
 Why does he not move up ?" 
 
 " Domont, you know the British ; what troops are those in the 
 orchard ? They use the bayonet well." 
 
 The officer addressed pointed his glass for a moment to the spot. 
 Then turning to the Emperor, replied, as he touched his hat, " They 
 are the Guards, sire." 
 
 During this time Napoleon spoke not a word ; his eye ever bent 
 upon the battle, he seemed to pay little if any attention to the con- 
 versation about him. As he looked, an aide-de-camp, breathless 
 and heated, galloped up. 
 
 " The columns of attack are formed, sire ; everything is ready, 
 and the Marshal only waits the order." 
 
 Napoleon turned upon his saddle, and, directing his glass towards 
 Ney's division, looked fixedly for some moments at them. His eye 
 
736 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 moved from front to rear slowly, and at last carrying his telescope 
 along the line, he fixed it steadily upon the far left. Here, towards 
 St. Lambert, a slight cloud seems to rest on the horizon, as the Em- 
 peror continued to gaze steadfastly at it. Every glass of the staff 
 was speedily turned in that direction. 
 
 " It is nothing but a cloud ; some exhalation from the low grounds 
 in that quarter," whispered one. 
 
 " To me," said another, " they look like trees, part of the Bois de 
 Wavre." 
 
 " They are men," said the Emperor, speaking for the first time. 
 11 Est-ce Grouchy! Est-ce Blucher 1" 
 
 Soult inclines to believe it to be the former, and proceeds to give 
 his reasons, but the Emperor, without listening, turns towards Do- 
 mont, and orders him, with his division of light cavalry and Suber- 
 vic's brigade, to proceed thither at once. If it be Grouchy, to 
 establish a junction with him; to resist, should it prove to be the 
 advanced guard of Marshal Blucher. Scarcely is the order given 
 when a column of cavalry, wheeling " fours about," unravels itself 
 from the immense mass, and seems to serpentine like an enormous 
 snake between the squares of the mighty army. The pace increases 
 at every moment, and at length we see them merge from the extreme 
 right and draw up, as if on parade, above half a mile from the 
 wood. This movement, by its great precision and beauty, had at- 
 tracted our entire attention, not only from the attack on Hougou- 
 mont, but also an incident which had taken place close beside us. 
 This was the appearance of a Prussian hussar who had been taken 
 prisoner between Wavre and Planchenoit : he was the bearer of a 
 letter from Bulow to Wellington, announcing his arrival at St. Lam- 
 bert, and asking for orders. 
 
 This at once explains the appearance on the right ; but the pris- 
 oner also adds that the three Prussian corps were at Wavre, having 
 pushed their patrols two leagues from the town without ever encoun- « 
 tering any portion of the force under the command of Grouchy. 
 For a moment not a word is spoken. A silence like a panic per- 
 vades the staff; the Emperor himself was the first to break it. 
 
 " This morning," said he, turning towards Soult, " the chances 
 were ninety to one in our favor ; Bulow's arrival has already lost us 
 thirty of the number ; but the odds are still sufficient, if Grouchy 
 but repair the horrible fault he has committed." 
 
 He paused for a moment, and, as he lifted up his own hand, and 
 turned a look of indignant passion towards the staff, added, in a 
 voice the sarcasm of whose tone there is no forgetting : 
 
 "II s'amuse d Gembloux I Still," said he, speaking rapidly and 
 with more energy than I had hitherto noticed, " Bulow may be en- 
 
WATERLOO. 737 
 
 tirely cut off. Let an officer approach. Take this letter, sir," — 
 giving, as he spoke, Bulow's letter to Lord Wellington — give this 
 letter to Marshal Grouchy ; tell him that at this moment he should 
 
 be before Wavre ; tell him that already, had he obeyed orders 
 
 but no, tell him to march at once, to press forward his cavalry, to 
 come up in two hours, in three at furthest. You have but five 
 leagues to ride ; see, sir, that you reach him within an hour." 
 
 As the officer hurries away at the top of his speed, an aide-de- 
 camp from General Domont confirms the news ; they are the Prus- 
 sians whom he has before him. As yet, however, they are debouch- 
 ing from the wood, and have attempted no forward movement. 
 
 "What's Bulow's force, Marshal?" 
 
 " Thirty thousand, sire." 
 
 " Let Lobau take ten thousand, with the Cuirassiers of the Young 
 Guard, and hold the Prussians in check." 
 
 " Maintenanl, pour les autres." This he said with a smile, as he 
 turned his eye once more towards the field of battle. The aide-de- 
 camp of Marshal Ney, who, bareheaded and expectant, sat waiting 
 for orders, presented himself to view. The Emperor turned towards 
 him as he said, with a clear and firm voice : 
 
 " Tell the Marshal to open the fire of his batteries ; to carry La 
 Haye Sainte with the bayonet, and leaving an infantry division for 
 its protection, to march against La Papelotte and La Haye. They 
 must be carried by the bayonet." 
 
 The aide-de-camp was gone ; Napoleon's eye followed him as he 
 crossed the open plain, and was lost in the dense ranks of the dark 
 columns. Scarcely five minutes elapsed when eighty guns thundered 
 out together, and, as the earth shook and trembled beneath, the 
 mighty movement of the day began its execution. From Hougou- 
 mont, where the slaughter and the carnage continued unslackened 
 and unstayed, every eye was now turned towards the right. I knew 
 not what troops occupied La Haye Sainte, or whether they were 
 British who crowned the heights above it; but in my heart how 
 fervently did I pray that they might be so. Oh ! in that moment 
 of suspense and agonizing doubt, what would I not have given to 
 know that Picton himself and the fighting 5th were there; that be- 
 hind the ridge the Greys, the Royals, and the Enniskilleners sat 
 motionless, but burning to advance ; and the breath of battle waved 
 among the tartans of the Highlanders, and blew upon the flashing 
 features of my own island countrymen. Had I known this, I could 
 have marked the onset with a less failing spirit. 
 
 " There goes Marcognet's division," said my companion, springing 
 to his legs ; "they're moving to the right of the road. I should like 
 to see the troops that will stand before them." 
 47 
 
738 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 So saying, he mounted his horse, and, desiring me to accompany 
 him, rode to the height beside La Belle Alliance. The battle was 
 now raging from the Chateau de Hougoumout to St. Lambert, where 
 the Prussian tirailleurs, as they issued from the wood, were skirmish- 
 ing with the advance posts of Lobau's brigade. The attack upon 
 the centre, however, engrossed all my attention, and I watched the 
 dark columns as they descended into the plain, while the incessant 
 roll of the artillery played about them. To the right of Ney's at- 
 tack, D'Erlon advanced with three divisions, and the artillery of 
 the Guard. Towards this part of the field my companions moved. 
 General Le Vasseur desired to know if the division on the Brussels 
 road were English or Hanoverian troops, and I was sent for to 
 answer the question. We passed from square to square until at 
 length we found ourselves upon the flank of D'Erlon's division. 
 Le Vasseur, who at the head of his cuirassiers waited but the order 
 to charge, waved impatiently with his sword for us to approach. 
 We were now to the right of the high road, and about four hundred 
 yards from the crest of the hill where, protected by a slight edge, 
 Picton with Kempt's brigade waited the attack of the enemy. 
 
 Just at this moment an incident took place which, while in itself 
 one of the most brilliant achievements of the day, changed in a 
 signal manner my own fortunes. The head of D'Erlon's column 
 pressed with fixed bayonets up the gentle slope. Already the Bel- 
 gian infantry give way before them. The brave Brunswickers, over- 
 whelmed by the heavy cavalry of France, at first began to waver; 
 then are broken ; and at last retreat in disorder up the road, a whirl- 
 wind of pursuing squadrons thundering behind them. "En avant! 
 en avant I la vicloire est d nous," isr shouted madly through the impa- 
 tient ranks ; and the artillery is called up to play upon the British 
 squares, upon which, fixed and immovable, the cuirassiers have 
 charged without success. Like a thunderbolt, the flying artillery 
 dashes to the front ; but scarcely has it reached the bottom of the 
 ascent, when, from the deep ground, the guns become embedded in 
 the soil : the wheels refuse to move. In vain the artillery drivers 
 whip and spur their laboring cattle. Impatiently the leading files 
 of the column prick with their bayonets the struggling horses. The 
 hesitation is fatal ; for Wellington, who, with eagle glance, watches 
 from an eminence beside the high road the advancing column, sees 
 the accident. An order is given; and, with one fell swoop, the 
 heavy cavalry brigade pour down. Picton's division deploys into 
 line; the bayonets glance above the ridge; and with a shout that 
 tells above the battle, on they come, the fighting 5th. One volley 
 is exchanged ; but the bayonet is now brought to the charge, and 
 the French division retreat in close column, pursued by their gal- 
 
WATERLOO. 739 
 
 lant enemy. Scarcely had the leading divisions fallen back, and 
 the rear been pressed down upon, or thrown into disorder, than the 
 cavalry trumpets sound a charge. The bright helmets of the Ennis- 
 killeners come flashing in the sunbeams, and the Scotch Greys, like 
 a white-crested wave, are rolling upon the foe. Marcognet's division 
 is surrounded ; the dragoons ride them down on every side ; the guns 
 are captured ; the drivers cut down, and two thousand prisoners are 
 carried off. A sudden panic seems to seize upon the French, as 
 cavalry, infantry, and artillery are hurried back on each other. 
 Vainly the French attempt to rally: the untiring enemy press 
 madly on ; the household brigade, led on by Lord Uxbridge, came 
 thundering down the road, riding down with their gigantic force 
 the mailed cuirassiers of France. Borne along with the retreating 
 torrents, I was carried on amidst the densely commingled mass. 
 The British cavalry, which, like the lightnings that sever the thun- 
 der-cloud, pierce through in every direction, plunge madly upon us. 
 The roar of battle grew louder, as hand to hand they fought. Mil- 
 haud's heavy dragoons, with the 4th Lancers, came up at a gallop. 
 Picton pressed forward, waving his plumed hat above his head ; his 
 proud eye flashes with the fire of victory. That moment is his last. 
 Struck in the forehead by a musket-ball, he falls dead from the 
 saddle ; and the wild yell of the Irish regiments, as they ring his 
 death-cry, are the last sounds which he hears. Meanwhile, the Life 
 Guards are among us; prisoners of rank are captured on every 
 side; and I, seizing the moment, throw myself among the ranks 
 of my countrymen, and am borne to the rear with the retiring 
 squadrons. 
 
 As we reached the crest of the hill above the road, a loud cheer 
 in the valley beneath us burst forth, and from the midst of the dense 
 smoke a bright and pointed flame shot up towards the sky. It was 
 the farm-house La Haye Sainte, which the French had succeeded 
 in setting fire to with hot shot. For some time past the ammunition 
 of the corps that held it had failed, and a dropping, irregular mus- 
 ketry was the only reply to the incessant rattle of the enemy. As 
 the smoke cleared away, we discovered that the French had carried 
 the position ; and as no quarter was given in that deadly hand-to- 
 hand conflict, not one returned to our ranks to tell the tale of their 
 defeat. 
 
 " This is the officer that I spoke of," said an aide-de-camp, as he 
 rode up to where I was standing, bare-headed and without a sword. 
 " He has just made his escape from the French lines, and will be 
 able to give your lordship some information." 
 
 The handsome features and gorgeous costume of Lord Uxbridge 
 were known to me; but I was not aware, till afterwards, that a 
 
740 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 soldier-like, resolute-looking officer beside him was General Gra- 
 ham. It was the latter who first addressed me. 
 
 "Are you aware, sir," said he, "if Grouchy's force is arrived?" 
 
 "They had not; on the contrary, shortly before I escaped, an 
 aide-de-camp was despatched to Gembloux to hasten his coming. 
 And the troops, for they must be troops, were debouching from the 
 wood yonder. They seem to form a junction with the corps to the 
 right; they are the Prussians. They arrived there before noon from 
 St. Lambert, and are part of Bulow's corps. Count Lobau and his 
 division of ten thousand men were despatched, about an hour since, 
 to hold them in check." 
 
 " This is great news," said Lord Uxbridge. " Fitzroy must know 
 it at once*" 
 
 So saying, he dashed spurs into his horse, and soon disappeared 
 amid the crowd on the hilltop. 
 
 " You had better see the Duke immediately, sir," said Grahant. 
 " Your information is too important, to be delayed. Captain Cal- 
 vert, let this officer have a horse ; his own is too tired to go much 
 further." 
 
 " And a cap, I beg of you," added I, in an undertone, " for I have 
 already found a sabre." 
 
 By a slightly circuitous route we reached the road, upon which a 
 mass of dismounted artillery-carts, baggage-wagons and tumbrils 
 were heaped together as a barricade against the attack of the French 
 dragoons, who more than once had penetrated to the very crest of 
 our position. Close to this, and on a little rising ground, from 
 which a view of the entire field extended, from Hougoumont to the 
 far left, the Duke of Wellington stood, surrounded by his staff. His 
 eye was bent upon the valley before him, where the advancing col- 
 umns of Ney's attack still pressed onwards, while the fire of sixty 
 great guns poured death and carnage into his lines. The second 
 Belgian division, routed and broken, had fallen back upon the 27th 
 regiment, who had merely time to throw themselves into square, 
 when Milhaud's cuirassiers, armed with their terrible long, straight 
 swords, came sweeping down upon them. A line of impassable 
 bayonets, a living chevaux-de-frise, of the best blood of Britain, stood 
 firm and motionless before the shock. The French miiraille played 
 mercilessly on the ranks, but the chasms were filled up like magic, 
 and in vain the bold horsemen of Gaul galloped round the bristling 
 files. At length the word " Fire !" was heard within the square, and 
 as the bullets at pistol-range rattled upon them, the cuirass afforded 
 them no defence against the deadly volley. Men and horses rolled 
 indiscriminately upon the earth. Then would come a charge of our 
 dashing squadrons, who, riding recklessly upon the foe, were in their 
 
WA TEE LOO. 741 
 
 turn to be repulsed by numbers, and fresh attacks poured down 
 upon our unshaken infantry. 
 
 " That column yonder is wavering. Why does he not bring up his 
 supporting squadrons ?" inquired the Duke, pointing to a Belgian 
 regiment of light dragoons, who were formed in the same brigade 
 with the 7th Hussars. 
 
 " He refuses to oppose his light cavalry to cuirassiers, my lord," 
 said an aide-de-camp, who had just returned from the division in 
 question. 
 
 "Tell him to march his men off the ground," said the Duke, 
 with a quiet and. impassive tone. 
 
 In less than ten minutes the " Belgian regiment" was seen to de- 
 file from the mass, and take the road to Brussels, to increase the panic 
 of that city, by circulating and strengthening the report that the 
 English were beaten, and Napoleon in full march upon the capital. 
 
 " What's Ney's force ? can you guess, sir ?" said the Duke of Wel- 
 lington, turning to me. 
 
 " About twelve thousand men, my lord." 
 
 "Are the Guard among them?" 
 
 " No, sir ; the Guard are in reserve above La Belle Alliance." 
 
 "In what part of the field is Bonaparte?" 
 
 " Nearly opposite to where we stand." 
 
 " I told you, gentlemen, Hougoumont never was the great attack. 
 The battle must be decided here," pointing, as he spoke, to the plain 
 beneath us, where Ney still poured in his devoted columns, where 
 yet the French cavalry rode down upon our firm squares. 
 
 As he spoke, an aide-de-camp rode up from the valley. 
 
 " The 92d requires support, my lord. They cannot maintain their 
 position half an hour longer without it." 
 
 " Have they given way, sir ?" 
 
 "No " 
 
 "Well, then, they must stand where they are. I hear cannon 
 towards the left — yonder, near Frischermont." 
 
 At this moment the light cavalry swept past the base of the hill 
 on which we stood, hotly followed by the French heavy cuirassier 
 brigade. Three of our guns were taken ; and the cheering of the 
 French infantry, as they advanced to the charge, presaged their 
 hope of victory. 
 
 " Do it, then," said the Duke, in reply to some whispered question 
 of Lord Uxbridge, and shortly after the heavy trot of advancing 
 squadrons was heard behind. 
 
 They were the Life Guards and the Blues, who, with the 1st 
 Dragoon Guards and the Enniskilleners, were formed into close 
 column. 
 
742 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 " I know the ground, my lord," said I to Lord Uxbridge. 
 
 " Come along, sir, come along," said he, and he threw his hussar 
 jacket loosely behind him, to give freedom to his sword-arm. "For- 
 ward, my men, forward! but steady; hold your horses in hand. 
 Threes about, and together — charge!" 
 
 " Charge !" he shouted. As the word flew from squadron to 
 squadron, each horseman bent upon his saddle, and that mighty 
 mass, as though instinct with one spirit, dashed like a thunderbolt 
 upon the column beneath them. The French, blown and exhausted, 
 inferior besides in weight, both of man and horse, offered but a 
 short resistance. As the tall corn bends beneath the sweeping 
 hurricane, wave succeeding wave, so did the steel-clad squadrons 
 of France fall before the nervous arm of Britain's cavalry. Onward 
 they went, carrying death and ruin before them, and never stayed 
 their course until the guns were recaptured, and the cuirassiers, 
 repulsed, disordered, and broken, had retired beneath the protection 
 of their artillery. 
 
 There was, as a brilliant and eloquent writer on the subject men- 
 tions, a terrible sameness in the whole of this battle, — incessant 
 charges of cavalry upon the squares of our infantry, whose sole 
 manoeuvre consisted in either deploying into line to resist the attack 
 of infantry, or falling back into square when the cavalry advanced : 
 performing those two evolutions under the devastating fire of artil- 
 lery, before the unflinching heroism of that veteran infantry whose 
 glories had been reaped upon the blood-stained fields of Austerlitz, 
 Marengo, and Wagram, or opposing an unbroken front to the whirl- 
 wind swoop of infuriated cavalry. Such were the enduring and de- 
 voted services demanded from the English troops, and such they 
 failed not to render. Once or twice had temper nearly failed them, 
 and the cry ran through the ranks, " Are we never to move for- 
 ward ? Only let us at them !" But the word was not yet spoken 
 which was to undam the pent-up torrent, and bear down with 
 unrelenting vengeance upon the now exulting columns of the 
 enemy. 
 
 It was six o'clock. The battle had continued with unchanged for- 
 tune for three hours. The French, masters of La Haye Sainte, 
 could never advance farther into our position. They had gained 
 the orchard of Hougoumont, but the chateau was still held by the 
 British Guards, although its blazing roof and crumbling walls made 
 its occupation rather the desperate stand of unflinching valor than 
 the maintenance of an important position. The smoke which hung 
 upon the field rolled in slow and heavy masses back upon the 
 French lines, and gradually discovered to our view the entire of the 
 army. We quickly perceived that a change was taking place in 
 
WATERLOO. 743 
 
 their position. The troops, which on their left stretched far beyond 
 Hougoumont, were now moved nearer to the centre. The attack 
 upon the chateau seemed less vigorously supported, while the 
 oblique direction of their right wing, which, pivoting upon Planche- 
 noit, opposed a face to the Prussians, all denoted a change in their 
 order of battle. It was now the hour when Napoleon was at last 
 convinced that nothing but the carnage he could no longer sup- 
 port could destroy the unyielding ranks of British infantry ; that 
 although Hougoumont had been partially, La Haye Sainte com- 
 pletely won ; that upon the right of the road the farm-houses Pape- 
 lotte and La Haye were nearly surrounded by his troops, which 
 with any other army must prove the forerunner of defeat, yet still 
 the victory was beyond his grasp. The bold stratagems whose suc- 
 cess the experience of a life had proved were here found to be 
 powerless. The decisive manoeuvre of carrying one important point 
 of the enemy's lines, of turning him upon the flank, or piercing him 
 through the centre, were here found impracticable. He might 
 launch his avalanche of grape-shot, he might pour down his crash- 
 ing columns of cavalry, he might send forth the iron storm of his 
 brave infantry ; but, though death in every shape heralded their 
 approach, still were others found to fill the fallen ranks, and feed 
 with their heart's blood the unslaked thirst for slaughter. Well 
 might the gallant leader of this gallant host, as he watched the 
 reckless onslaught of the untiring enemy, and looked upon the un- 
 flinching few who, bearing the proud badge of Britain, alone sus- 
 tained the fight, — well might he exclaim, " Night or Blucher I" 
 
 It was now seven o'clock, when a dark mass was seen to form upon 
 the heights above the French centre, and divide into three gigantic 
 columns, of which the right occupied the Brussels road. These were 
 the reserves, consisting of the Old and Young Guards, and amount- 
 ing to twelve thousand — the ilite of the French army — reserved by 
 the Emperor for a great coup de main. These veterans of a hundred 
 battles had been stationed from the beginning of the day, inactive 
 spectators of the fight ; their hour was now come, and with a shout 
 of " Vive VEmpereur /" which rose triumphantly over the din and crash 
 of battle, they began their march. Meanwhile, aides-de-camp gal- 
 loped along the lines, announcing the arrival of Grouchy, to reani- 
 mate the drooping spirits of the men ; for, at last, a doubt of victory 
 was breaking upon the minds of those who never before, in the most 
 adverse hour of fortune, deemed his star could be set that led them 
 on to glory. 
 
 " They are coming ; the attack will be made on the centre, my 
 lord," said Lord Fitzroy Somerset, as he directed his glass upon the 
 column. Scarcely had he spoken, when the telescope fell from hia 
 
744 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 hand, as his arm, shattered by a French bullet, fell motionless to 
 his side. 
 
 " I see it," was the cool reply of the Duke, as he ordered the 
 Guards to deploy into line, and lie down behind the ridge, which 
 now the French artillery had found the' range of, and were laboring 
 at their guns. In front of them the 52d, 71st, and 95th were formed ; 
 the artillery stationed above and partly upon the road, loaded with 
 grape, and waited but the word to open. 
 
 It was an awful, a dreadful moment. The Prussian cannon thun- 
 dered on our left, but so desperate was the French resistance, they 
 made but little progress. The dark columns of the Guard had now 
 commenced the ascent, and the artillery ceased their fire as the bayo- 
 nets of the grenadiers showed themselves upon the slope. Then 
 began that tremendous cheer from right to left of our line which 
 those who heard never can forget. It was the impatient, long-re- 
 strained burst of unslaked vengeance. With the instinct which 
 valor teaches, they knew the hour of trial was come; and that wild 
 cry flew from rank to rank, echoing from the blood-stained walls of 
 Hougoumont to the far-off valley of La Papelotte. " They come ! 
 they come!" was the cry; and the shout of "Vive HEmpereur!" 
 mingled with the outburst of the British line. 
 
 Under an overwhelming shower of grape, to which succeeded a 
 charge of cavalry of the Imperial Guard, the head of Ney's column 
 fired its volley and advanced'with the bayonet. The British artil- 
 lery now opened at half range, and although the plunging fire 
 scathed and devastated the dark ranks of the Guard, on they came, 
 Ncy himself, on foot, at their head. Twice the leading division of 
 that gallant column turned completely round, as the withering fire 
 wasted and consumed them ; but they were resolved to win. 
 
 Already they gained the crest of the hill, and the first line of the 
 British were falling back before them. The artillery closes up ; the 
 flanking fire from the guns upon the road opens upon them ; the 
 head of their column breaks like a shell ; the Duke seizes the mo- 
 ment, and advances on foot towards the ridge. 
 
 " Up, Guards, and at them !" he cried. 
 
 The hour of triumph and vengeance had arrived. In a moment 
 the Guards were on their feet ; one volley was poured in ; the bayo- 
 nets were brought to the charge; they closed upon the enemy. Then 
 was seen the most dreadful struggle that the history of all war can 
 present. Furious with long-restrained passion, the Guards rushed 
 upon the leading divisions; the 71st, the 95th, and 26th overlapped 
 them on the flanks. Their generals fell thickly on every side ; 
 Michel, Jamier, and Mallet are killed ; Friant lies wounded upon 
 the ground ; Ney, his dress pierced and ragged with balls, shouts 
 
WA TEE LOO. 745 
 
 still to advance ; but the leading files waver ; they fall back ; the 
 supporting divisions thicken ; confusion, panic succeeds ; the British 
 press down ; the cavalry come galloping up to their assistance ; and 
 at last pell-mell, overwhelmed and beaten, the French fall back upon 
 the Old Guard. This was the decisive moment of the day — the Duke 
 closed his glass, as he said, 
 
 " The field is won. Order the whole line to advance." 
 
 On they came, four deep, and poured like a torrent from the 
 height. 
 
 " Let the Life Guards charge them," said the Duke ; but every 
 aide-de-camp on his staff was wounded, and I myself brought the 
 order to Lord Uxbridge. 
 
 Lord Uxbridge had already anticipated his orders, and bore down 
 with four regiments of heavy cavalry upon the French centre. The 
 Prussian artillery thundered upon their flank, and at their rear. 
 The British bayonet was in their front ; while a panic fear spread 
 through their ranks, and the cry of "Sauve qui peut /" resounded on 
 all sides. In vain Ney, the bravest of the brave ; in vain Soult, Ber- 
 trand, Gourgaud, and Labedoyere, burst from the broken, disorgan- 
 ized mass, and called on them to stand fast. A battalion of the Old 
 Guard, with Cambronne at their head, alone obeyed the summons. 
 Forming into square, they stood between the pursuers and their 
 prey, offering themselves a sacrifice to the tarnished honor of their 
 arms. To the order to surrender they answered with a cry of defi- 
 ance ; and as our cavalry, flushed and elated with victory, rode 
 round their bristling ranks, no quailing look, no craven spirit was 
 there. The Emperor himself endeavored to repair the disaster ; he 
 rode with lightning speed hither and thither, commanding, ordering, 
 nay imploring too ; but already the night was falling, the confusion 
 became each moment more inextricable, and the effort was a fruitless 
 one. A regiment of the Guards and two batteries were in reserve 
 behind Planchenoit ; he threw them rapidly into position ; but the 
 overwhelming impulse of flight drove the mass upon them, and they 
 were carried away upon the torrent of the beaten army. No sooner 
 did the Emperor see this, his last hope, desert him, than he dis- 
 mounted from his horse, and drawing his sword, threw himself into 
 a square, which the first regiment of Chasseurs of the Old Guard had 
 formed with a remnant of the battalion. Jerome followed him, as 
 he called out, — 
 
 "You are right, brother; here should perish all who bear the 
 name of Bonaparte." 
 
 The same moment the Prussian light artillery rend the ranks 
 asunder, and the cavalry charge down upon the scattered fragments. 
 A few of his staff, who never left him, place the Emperor upon a 
 
746 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 horse and fly through the death-dealing artillery and musketry. A 
 squadron of the Life Guards, to which I had attached myself, came 
 up at the moment, and as Blucher's hussars rode madly here and 
 there, where so lately the crowd of staff officers had denoted the 
 presence of Napoleon, expressed their rage and disappointment in 
 curses and cries of vengeance. 
 
 Cambronne's battalion stood yet unbroken, and seemed to defy 
 every attack that was brought against them. To the second sum- 
 mons to surrender they replied as indignantly as at the first ; and 
 Vivan's brigade was ordered to charge them. A crowd of British 
 horse bore down on every face of the devoted square; but firm as in 
 their hour of victory, the heroes of Marengo never quailed; and 
 twice the bravest blood of Britain recoiled, baffled and dismayed. 
 There was a pause for some minutes, and even then as we surveyed 
 our broken and blood-stained squadrons, a cry of admiration burst 
 from our ranks at the gallant bearing of that glorious infantry. Sud- 
 denly the tramp of approaching cavalry was heard ; I turned my 
 head, and saw two squadrons of the Second Life Guards. The officer 
 who led them on was bare-headed, his long dark hair streaming 
 wildly behind him and upon his pale features, to which not even the 
 headlong enthusiasm of battle had lent one touch of color. He rode 
 straight to where I was standing, his dark eyes fixed upon me with 
 a look so fierce, so penetrating, that I could not look away. The 
 features, save in this respect, had almost a look of idiocy. It was 
 Hammersley. 
 
 " Ha P? he cried at last, " I have sought you out the entire day, 
 but in vain. It is not yet too late. Give me your hand, boy. You 
 once called on me to follow you, and I did not refuse ; I trust you'll 
 do the like by me. Is it not so?" 
 
 A terrible perception of his meaning shot through my mind as I 
 clasped his clay-cold hand in mine, and for a moment I did not 
 speak. 
 
 "I had hoped for better than this," said he, bitterly, and a 
 glance of withering scorn flashed from his eye. " I did trust that he 
 who was preferred before me was at least not a coward." 
 
 As the word fell from his lips I nearly leaped from my saddle, and 
 mechanically raised my sabre to cleave him on the spot. 
 
 "Then follow me!" shouted he, pointing with his sword to the 
 glistening ranks before us. 
 
 " Come on !" said I, with a voice hoarse with passion, while, bury- 
 ing my spurs in my horse's flanks, I sprang on a full length before 
 him, and bore down upon the enemy. A loud shout, a deafening 
 volley, the agonizing cry of the wounded and the dying, were all I 
 heard, as my horse, rearing madly upwards, plunged twice into the 
 
WATERLOO. 747 
 
 air. and then fell dead upon the earth, crushing me beneath his cum- 
 brous weight, lifeless and insensible. 
 
 The day was breaking; the cold, gray light of the morning was 
 struggling through the misty darkness, when I once more recovered 
 my consciousness. There are moments in life when memory can so 
 suddenly conjure up the whole past before us, that there is scarcely 
 time for a doubt ere the disputed reality is palpable to our senses. 
 Such was this to me. One hurried glance upon the wide, bleak plain 
 before me, and every circumstance of the battle-field was present to 
 my recollection. The dismounted guns, the broken wagons, the 
 heaps of dead or dying, the straggling parties who on foot or horse- 
 back traversed the field, and the dark litters which carried the 
 wounded, all betokened the sad evidences of the preceding day's 
 battle. 
 
 Close around me where I lay, the ground was marked with the 
 bodies of our cavalry, intermixed with the soldiers of the Old 
 Guard. The broad brow and the stalwart chest of the Saxon lay 
 bleaching beside the bronzed and bearded warrior of Gaul, while the 
 torn-up ground attested the desperation of that struggle which closed 
 the day. 
 
 As my eye ranged over this harrowing spectacle, a dreadful anx- 
 iety shot through me as I asked myself whose had been the victory. 
 A certain confused impression of flight and pursuit remained in my 
 mind; but, at the moment, the circumstances of my own position 
 in the early part of the day increased the difficulty of reflection, 
 and left me in a state of intense and agonizing uncertainty. Al- 
 though not wounded, I had been so crushed by my fall that it was 
 not without pain I got upon my legs. I soon perceived that the 
 spot around me had not yet been visited by those vultures of the 
 battle-field who strip alike the dead and dying. The distance of the 
 place from where the great conflict of the battle had occurred was 
 probably the reason ; and now, as the straggling sunbeams fell upon 
 the earth, I could trace the helmet of the Enniskilleners, or the tall 
 bearskin of the Scotch Greys, lying in thick confusion where the 
 steel cuirass and long sword of the French dragoons showed the 
 fight had been hottest. As I turned my eyes hither and thither, I 
 could see no living thing near me. In every attitude of struggling 
 agony they lay around ; some buried beneath their horses, some 
 bathed in blood, some, with clenched hands and darting eye-balls, 
 seemed struggling even in death. But all was still— not a word, not 
 a sigh, not a groan was there. I was turning to leave the spot, and, 
 uncertain which way to direct my steps, looked once more around, 
 when my glance rested upon the pale and marble features of one 
 
748 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 who, even in that moment of doubt and difficulty, there was no mis- 
 taking. His coat, torn widely open, was grasped in either hand, 
 while his breast was shattered with balls, and bathed in gore. 
 Gashed and mutilated as he lay, still the features bore no trace of 
 suffering; cold, pale, motionless, but with the tranquil look of sleep, 
 his eyelids were closed, and his half-parted lips seemed to quiver in 
 life. I knelt down beside him ; I took his hand in mine ; I bent over 
 and whispered his name ; I placed my hand upon his heart, where 
 even still the life-blood was warm — but he was dead. Poor Ham- 
 mersley ! His was a gallant soul ; and, as I looked upon his blood- 
 stained corpse, my tears fell fast and hot upon his brow to think how 
 far I had myself been the cause of a life blighted in its hope, and a 
 death like his. 
 
 CHAPTEE LVI. 
 
 BRUSSELS. 
 
 ONCE more I would entreat my reader's indulgence for the 
 prolixity of a narrative which has grown beneath my hands 
 to a length I had never intended. This shall, however, be 
 the last time for either the offence or the apology. My story is now 
 soon concluded. 
 
 After wandering about for some time, uncertain which way to 
 take, I at length reached the Charleroi road, now blocked by car- 
 riages and wagons conveying the wounded towards Brussels. Here 
 I learned for the first time that we had gained the battle, and heard 
 of the total annihilation of the French army, and the downfall of 
 the Emperor. On arriving at the farm-house of Mont St. Jean, I 
 found a number of officers, whose wounds prevented their accom- 
 panying the army in its forward movement. One of them, with 
 whom I was slightly acquainted, informed me that General Dash- 
 wood had spent the greater part of the night upon the field in search 
 of me, and that my servant Mike was in a state of distraction at 
 my absence that bordered on insanity. While he was speaking, a 
 burst of laughter and the tones of a well-remembered voice behind 
 attracted my attention. 
 
 " Made a very good thing of it, upon my life. A dressing-case — 
 not gold, you know, but silver-gilt — a dozen knives, with blood-stone 
 handles, and a little coffee-pot, with the imperial arms — not to speak 
 of three hundred naps in a green silk purse — Lord ! it reminds m» 
 
BEUSSELS. 749 
 
 of the Peninsula. Do you know, those Prussians are mere bar- 
 barians — haven't a notion of civilized war. Bless your heart, my 
 fellows in the Legion would have ransacked the whole coach, from 
 the boot to the sword-case, in half the time they took to cut down 
 the coachman." 
 
 " The Major I as I live," said I. " How goes it, Major?" 
 
 " Eh, Charley ! when did you turn up ? Delighted to see you. 
 They told me you were badly wounded, or killed, or something of ( 
 that kind ; but I should have paid the little debt to your executors 
 all the same." 
 
 "All the same, no doubt, Major; but where, in Heaven's name, 
 did you fall upon that mine of pillage you have just been talk- 
 ing of?" 
 
 " In the Emperor's carriage, to be sure, boy. While the Duke 
 was watching all day the advance of Ney's columns, and keeping 
 an anxious look-out for the Prussians, I sat in a window in this old 
 farm-house, and never took my eye off the garden at Planchenoit. 
 I saw the imperial carriage there in the morning — it was there also 
 at noon — and they never put the horses to it till past seven in the 
 evening. The roads were very heavy, and the crowd was great. I 
 judged the pace couldn't be a fast one ; and with four of the Ennis- 
 killeners I charged it like a man. The Prussians, however, had the 
 start of us ; and if they hadn't thought, from my seat on horseback 
 and my general appearance, that I was Lord Uxbridge, I should 
 have got but a younger son's portion. However, I got in first, filled 
 my pockets with a few little souvenirs of the Emperor, and then, lay- 
 ing my hands upon what was readiest, got out in time to escape 
 being shot ; for two of Blucher's hussars, thinking I must be the 
 Emperor, fired at me through the window." 
 
 " What an escape you had !" 
 
 " Hadn't I, though ? Fortunate, too, my Enniskilleners saw the 
 whole thing ; for I intend to make the circumstance the ground of 
 an application for a pension. Harkye, Charley, don't say anything 
 about the coffee-pot and the knives. The Duke, you know, has 
 strange notions of his own on these matters. But isn't that your 
 fellow fighting his way yonder ?" 
 
 "Tear an' ages! don't howld me — that's himself — devil a one 
 else!" 
 
 This exclamation came from Mickey Free, who, with his dress 
 torn and dishevelled, his eyes bloodshot and strained, was upsetting 
 and elbowing all before him, as he made his way towards me through 
 the crowd. 
 
 " Take that fellow to the guard-house ! Lay hold of him, sergeant. 
 Knock him down ! Who is the scoundrel?" 
 
750 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 Such were the greetings he met with on every side. Regardless of 
 everything and everybody, he burst his way through the dense mass. 
 
 " Oh, murther I oh, Mary ! oh, Moses ! Is he safe here after all?" 
 
 The poor fellow could say no more, but burst into a torrent of 
 tears. A roar of laughter around him soon, however, turned the 
 current of his emotions; when, dashing the scalding drops from his 
 eyelids, he glared fiercely like a tiger on every side. 
 
 "You're laughing at me, are ye?" cried he, "bekase I love the 
 hand that fed me, and the master that stood to me. But let us see 
 now which of us two has the stoutest heart; you with your grin on 
 you, or myself with the salt tears on my face." 
 
 As he spoke, he sprang upon them like a madman, striking right 
 and left at everything before him. Down they went beneath his 
 blows, levelled with the united strength of energy and passion, till 
 at length, rushing upon him in numbers, he was overpowered and 
 thrown to the ground. It was with some difficulty I accomplished 
 his rescue ; for his enemies felt by no means assured how far his 
 amicable propensities for the future could be relied upon ; and, in- 
 deed, Mike himself had a most constitutional antipathy to binding 
 himself by any pledge. With some persuasion, however, I recon- 
 ciled all parties ; and having, by the kindness of a brother officer, 
 provided myself with a couple of troop horses, I mounted, and set 
 out for Brussels, followed by Mickey, who had effectually cured his 
 auditory of any tendency to laughter at his cost. • 
 
 As I rode up to the Belle Vue, I saw Sir George Dashwood in the 
 window. He was speaking to the Ambassador, Lord Clancarty ; but 
 the moment he caught my eye, hurried down to meet me. 
 
 " Charley, safe — safe, my boy ! Now am I really happy. The 
 glorious day had been one of sorrow to me for the rest of my life 
 had anything happened to you. Come up with me at once; I have 
 more than one friend here who longs to thank you." 
 
 So saying, he hurried me along; and, before I could well re- 
 member where I was, introduced me to a number of persons in the 
 saloon. 
 
 "Ah! very happy to know you, sir," said Lord Clancarty; "per- 
 haps we had better walk this way. My friend Dashwood has ex- 
 plained to me the very pressing reasons there are for this step ; and 
 I, for my part, see no objection." 
 
 "What, in Heaven's name, can he mean !" thought I, as he stopped 
 short, expecting me to say something, while, in utter confusion, I 
 smiled, simpered, and muttered some commonplaces. 
 
 "Love and war, sir," resumed the Ambassador, "very admirable 
 associates, and you certainly have contrived to couple them most 
 closely together. A long attachment, I believe ?" 
 
BBUSSELS. 751 
 
 " Yes, sir, a very long attachment," stammered I, not knowing 
 which of us was about to become insane. 
 
 "A very charming person, indeed; I have seen the lady," replied 
 his lordship, as he opened the door of a small room, and beckoned 
 me to follow. The table was covered with paper and materials for 
 writing ; but, before I had time to ask for any explanation of this 
 unaccountable mystery, he added, " Oh, I was forgetting ; this must 
 be witnessed : wait one moment." 
 
 With these words he left the room, while I, amazed and thunder- 
 struck, vacillating between fear and hope, trembling lest the delusive 
 glimmering of happiness should give way at every moment, and yet 
 totally unable to explain by any possible supposition how fortune 
 could so far have favored me. 
 
 While yet I stood hesitating and uncertain, the door opened, and 
 the Senhora entered. She looked a little pale, though not less 
 beautiful than ever ; and her features wore a slight trace of serious- 
 ness, which rather heightened than took from the character of her 
 loveliness. 
 
 " I heard you had come, Chevalier," said she, " and so I ran down 
 to shake hands with you. We may not meet again for some time." 
 
 "How so, Senhora? You are not going to leave us, I trust?" 
 
 "Then you have not seen Fred? Oh, I forgot, you know nothing 
 of our plans." 
 
 " Here we are at last," said the Ambassador, as he came in, fol- 
 lowed by Sir George, Power, and two other officers. "Ah, ma belle, 
 how fortunate to find you here ! I assure you it is a matter of no 
 small difficulty to get people together at such a time as this." 
 
 "Charley, my dear friend," cried Power, "I scarcely hoped to 
 have had a shake hands with you ere I left." 
 
 " Do, Fred, tell me what all this means ? I am in a maze of doubt 
 and difficulty, and cannot comprehend a word I hear about me.". 
 
 "Faith, my boy, I have little time for explanation. The man 
 who was at Waterloo yesterday, is to be married to-morrow, and to 
 sail for India in a week, has quite enough upon his hands." 
 
 " Colonel Power, will you please to put your signature here," said 
 Lord Clancarty, addressing himself to me. 
 
 " If you will allow me," said Fred, " I had rather represent my- 
 self." 
 
 " Is not this the Colonel, then ? Why, confound it, I have been 
 wishing him joy the last quarter of an hour." 
 
 A burst of laughter from the whole party, in which it was pretty 
 evident I took no part, followed this announcement. 
 
 "And so you are not Colonel Power? Nor going to be married 
 either?" 
 
752 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 I stammered out something, while, overwhelmed with confusion, 
 I stooped down to sign the paper. Scarcely had I done so, when a 
 renewed burst of laughter broke from the party. 
 
 " Nothing but blunders, upon my soul," said the Ambassador, as 
 he handed the paper from one to another. 
 
 What was my confusion to discover that, instead of Charles 
 O'Malley, I had written the name of Lucy Dashwood. I could 
 bear no more. The laughing and raillery of my friends came upon 
 my wounded and irritated feelings like the most poignant sarcasm. 
 I seized my cap, and rushed from the room. Desirous of escaping 
 from all that knew me, anxious to bury my agitated and distracted 
 thoughts in solitude and quiet, I opened the first door before me, 
 and, seeing it an empty and unoccupied room, threw myself upon 
 a sofa, and buried my head within my hands. Oh, how often had 
 the phantom of happiness passed within my reach, but still glided 
 from my grasp ! How often had I beheld the goal I aimed at, as it 
 were before me, and the next moment all the bleak reality of my 
 evil fortune was louring around me ! 
 
 "Oh Lucy, Lucy!" I exclaimed aloud, "but for you and a few 
 words carelessly spoken, I had never trod that path of ambition 
 whose end has been the wreck of all my happiness. But for you, I 
 had never loved so fondly ; I had never filled my mind with one 
 image which, excluding every other thought, leaves no pleasure but 
 in it alone. Yes, Lucy, but for you I should have gone tranquilly 
 down the stream of life with naught of grief or care, save such as 
 are inseparable from the passing chances of mortality ; loved, per- 
 haps, and cared for by some one who would have deemed it no dis- 
 grace to have linked her fortune to my own. But for you, and I 
 had never been " 
 
 "A soldier, you would say," whispered a soft voice, as a light 
 hand gently touched my shoulder. " I had come," continued she, 
 "to thank you for a gift no gratitude can repay, — my father's life; 
 but, truly, I did not think to hear the words you have spoken ; nor, 
 having heard them, can I feel their justice. No, Mr. O'Malley, 
 deeply grateful as I am to you for the service you once rendered 
 myself, bound as I am, by every tie of thankfulness, by the greater 
 one to my father, yet do I feel that in the impulse I have given to 
 your life, if so be that to me you owe it, I have done more to repay 
 my debt to you than by all the friendship, all the esteem, I owe 
 you ; if, indeed, by my means, you became a soldier, if my few and 
 random words raised within your breast that fire of ambition which 
 has been your beacon-light to honor and to glory, then am I indeed 
 proud." 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! Lucy— Miss Dashwood, I would say— forgive jne if 
 
BRUSSELS. 753 
 
 I know not the very words I utter. How has my career fulfilled 
 the promise that gave it birth? For you, and you only, to gain 
 your affection, to win your heart, I became a soldier; hardship, 
 danger, even death itself were courted by me, supported by the one 
 thought that you had cared for or had pitied me; and now, and 
 now " 
 
 "And now," said she, while her eyes beamed upon me with a very 
 flood of tenderness, " is it nothing that in my woman's heart I have 
 glowed with pride at triumphs I could read of but dared not share 
 in ? Is it nothing that you have lent to my hours of solitude and 
 of musing the fervor of that career, the maddening enthusiasms of 
 that glorious path my sex denied me ? I have followed you in my 
 thoughts across the burning plains of the Peninsula, through the 
 long hours of the march in the dreary nights even to the battle- 
 field. I have thought of you; I have dreamed of you; I have 
 prayed for you." 
 
 " Alas ! Lucy, but not loved me." 
 
 The very words, as I spoke them, sank with a despairing cadence 
 upon my heart. Her hand, which had fallen upon mine, trembled 
 violently. I pressed my lips upon it, but she moved it not. I dared 
 to look up. Her head was turned away, but her heaving bosom 
 betrayed her emotion. 
 
 "No, no, Lucy," cried I passionately, "I will not deceive myself; 
 I ask for more than you can give me. Farewell !" 
 
 Now, and for the last time, I pressed her hand once more to my 
 lips ; my hot tears fell fast upon it. I turned to go, and threw one 
 last look upon her. Our eyes met. I cannot say what it was, but 
 in a moment the whole current of my thoughts was changed ; her 
 look was bent upon me, beaming with softness and affection ; her 
 hand gently pressed my own, and her lips murmured my name. 
 
 The door burst open at this moment, and Sir George Dashwood 
 appeared. Lucy turned one fleeting look upon her father, and fell 
 fainting into my arms. 
 
 " God bless you, my boy !" said the old General, as he hurriedly 
 wiped a tear from his eye ; " I am now, indeed, a happy father." 
 
 4X 
 
754 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 ******** 
 
 THE sun had set about half an hour. Already were the dusky 
 shadows blending with the faint twilight, as on a lovely June 
 evening we entered the little village of Portumna, — we, I say, 
 for Lucy was beside me. For the last few miles of the way I had 
 spoken little. Thoughts of the many times I had travelled that 
 same road, in how many moods, occupied my mind ; and although, 
 as we flew rapidly along, some well-known face would every now 
 and then present itself, I had but time for the recognition ere we 
 were past. Arousing myself from my reverie, I was pointing out to 
 Lucy certain well-known spots in the landscape, and directing her 
 attention to places with the names of which she had been for some 
 time familiar, when suddenly a loud shout rent the air, and the 
 next moment the carriage was surrounded by hundreds of country 
 people, some of whom brandished blazing pine torches ; others car- 
 ried rude banners in their hands ; but all testified the most fervent 
 joy as they bade us welcome. The horses were speedily unhar- 
 nessed, and their places occupied by a crowd of every age and sex, 
 who hurried us along through the straggling street of the village, 
 now a perfect blaze of bonfires. 
 
 Mounds of turf, bog-fir, and tar-barrels sent up their ruddy blaze, 
 while hundreds of wild but happy faces flitted around and through 
 them, — now dancing merrily in chorus, now plunging madly into 
 the midst of the fire, and scattering the red embers on every side. 
 Pipers were there, too, mounted upon cars or turf-kishes ; even the 
 very roof-tops rang out their merry notes ; the ensigns of the little 
 fishing-craft waved in the breeze, and seemed to feel the general joy 
 around them ; while over the door of the village inn stood a bril- 
 liantly-lighted transparency, representing the head of the O'Malleys 
 holding a very scantily-robed young lady by the tips of the fingers ; 
 but whether this damsel was intended to represent the genius of the 
 west or my wife, I did not venture to inquire. 
 
 If the welcome were rude, assuredly it was a hearty one. Kind 
 wishes and blessings poured in on every side, and even our own 
 happiness took a brighter coloring from the beaming looks around 
 us. The scene was wild. The lurid glare of the rod torchlight, the 
 frantic gestures, the maddening shouts, the forked flames rising 
 amidst the dark shadows of the little hamlet, had something strange 
 and almost unearthly in their effect ; but Lucy showed no touch of 
 fear. It is true she grasped my hand a little closer, but her fail 
 
CONCL USION. 755 
 
 cheek glowed with pleasure, and her eye brightened as she looked ; 
 and as the rich light fell upon her beauteous features, how many a 
 blessing, heartfelt and deep, how many a word of fervent praise, was 
 spoken. 
 
 'Ah ! then, the Lord be good to you ; it's yourself has the dar- 
 iin' blue eyes. Look at them, Mary ; ain't they like the blossoms 
 on a peacock's tail ? Musha, may sorrow never put a crease on that 
 beautiful cheek ! The saints watch over you ! for your mouth is 
 like a moss-rose. Be good to her, yer honor, for she's a raal gem. 
 Devil fear you, Mr. Charles, but you'd have a beauty." 
 
 We wended our way slowly, the crowd ever thickening around us, 
 until we reached the market-place. Here the procession came to a 
 stand, and I could perceive, by certain efforts around me, that some 
 endeavor was making to enforce silence. 
 
 " Whist there ! howld your prate ; be still, Paddy. Tear an' ages, 
 Molly Blake, don't be howldin' me that way ; let us hear his rive- 
 rence. Put him up on the barrel. Haven't you got a chair for the 
 priest? Pun and bring a table out of Mat Haley's. Here, father, — 
 here, your riverence; take care, will you? — you'll have the holy 
 man in the blaze 1" 
 
 By this time I could perceive that my worthy old friend Father 
 Push was in the midst of the mob, with what appeared to be a 
 written oration, as long as the tail of a kite, between his hands. 
 
 " Be aisy, there, ye savages ; who's tearin' the back of my neck ? 
 Howld me up straight — steady, now — hem !" 
 
 "Take the laste taste in life of this to wet your lips, your 
 riverence," said a friendly voice, while at the same moment a 
 smoking tumbler of what seemed to be punch appeared on the heads 
 of the crowd. 
 
 "Thank you, Judy," said the father, as he drained the cup. 
 " Howld the light up higher ; I can't read my speech. There, now ; 
 be quiet, will ye ? Here goes. Peter, stand to me now, and give 
 me the word." 
 
 This admonition was addressed to a figure on a barrel behind the 
 priest, who, as well as the imperfect light would permit me to des- 
 cry, was the coadjutor of the parish, Peter Nolan. Silence being 
 perfectly established, Father Push began :— 
 
 " When Mars, the god of war on high, 
 Of battles first did think, 
 » He girt his sword upon his thigh, 
 And 
 
 And— what is't, Peter?" 
 
 " And mixed a drop of drink." 
 
756 CHARLES O'MALLEY. 
 
 " And mixed a drop of drink," quoth Father Kush, with great 
 emphasis. Scarcely were the words spoken, than a loud shout of 
 laughter showed him his mistake, and he overturned upon the luck- 
 less curate the full vial of his wrath. 
 
 " What is it that you mean, Father Peter ? I'm ashamed of ye ; 
 faith, it's maybe yourself, not Mars, you are speaking of." 
 
 The roar of merriment around prevented my hearing what passed ; 
 but I could see by Peter's gestures — for it was too dark to see his 
 face — that he was expressing deep sorrow for the mistake. After a 
 little time, order was again established, and Father Kush resumed : 
 
 " But love drove battles from his head, 
 And sick of wounds and scars, 
 To Venus bright he knelt, and said 
 
 And said — and said ; what the blazes did he say ?" 
 
 " I'll make you Mrs. Mars," 
 
 shouted Peter, loud enough to be heard. 
 
 " Bad luck to you, Peter Nolan, it's yourself's the ruin of me this 
 blessed night. Here have I come four miles with my speech in my 
 pocket, 'per imbres et ignes.'' " Here the crowd crossed themselves 
 devoutly. " Ay, just so ; and he spoilt it for me entirely." At the 
 earnest entreaty, however, of the crowd, Father Eush, with renewed 
 caution to his unhappy prompter, again returned to the charge : 
 
 " Thus love compelled the god to yield, 
 And seek for purer joys; 
 He laid aside his helm and shield, 
 And took 
 
 Took — took- 
 
 "And took to corduroys," 
 
 cried Father Nolan. 
 
 This time, however, the good priest's patience could endure no 
 more, and he levelled a blow at his luckless colleague, which miss- 
 ing his aim, lost him his own balance, and brought him down from 
 his eminence upon the heads of the mob. 
 
 Scarcely had I recovered the perfect convulsion of laughter into 
 which the scene had thrown me, when the broad brim of Father 
 Nolan's hat appeared at the window of the carriage. Before I had 
 time to address him, he took it reverently from his head, disclosing 
 in the act the ever-memorable features of Master Frank Webber ! 
 
 " What ! Eh !— can it be?" said I. 
 
 " It is surely not " said Lucy, hesitating at the name. 
 
 " Your aunt, Miss Judy Macan, no more, than the Rev. Peter No, 
 
CONCL USION. 757 
 
 Ian, I assure you ; though, I confess, it has cost me much more to 
 personate the latter character than the former, and the reward by- 
 no means so tempting." 
 
 Here poor Lucy blushed deeply at the remembrance of the scene 
 alluded to ; and, anxious to turn the conversation, I asked by what 
 stratagem he had succeeded to the functions of the worthy Peter. 
 
 "At the cost of twelve tumblers of the strongest punch ever 
 brewed at the O'Malley Arms. The good father gave in only ten 
 minutes before the oration began, and I had barely time to change 
 my dress and mount the barrel, without a moment's preparation." 
 
 The procession once more resumed its march, and hurried along 
 through the town, we soon reached the avenue. Here fresh prepar- 
 ations for welcoming us had also been made ; but, regardless of 
 blazing tar barrels and burning logs, the reckless crowd pressed 
 madly on, their wild cheers waking the echoes as they went. We 
 soon reached the house, and with a courtesy which even the hum- 
 blest and poorest native of this country is never devoid of, the pre- 
 parations of noise and festivity had not extended to the precincts of 
 the dwelling. With a tact which those of higher birth and older 
 blood might be proud of, they limited the excesses of their reckless 
 and careless merriment to their own village, so that, as we ap- 
 proached the terrace, all was peaceful, still, and quiet. 
 
 I lifted Lucy from the carriage, and, passing my arm around her, 
 was assisting her to mount the steps, when a bright gleam of moon- 
 light burst forth, and lit up the whole scene. It was, indeed, an 
 impressive one. Among the assembled hundreds there who stood 
 bare-headed, beneath the cold moonlight, not a word was now spo- 
 ken — not a whisper heard. I turned from the lawn, where the tall 
 beech-trees were throwing their gigantic shadows, to where the river, 
 peering at intervals through the foliage, was flowing on its silvery 
 track, plashing amid the tall flaggers that lined its banks — all were 
 familiar, all were dear to me from childhood. How doubly were 
 they so now ! I lifted up my eyes towards the door, and what was 
 my surprise at the object before them ! Seated in a large chair was 
 an old man, whose white hair, flowing in straggling masses upon his 
 neck and shoulders, stirred with the night air; his hands rested 
 upon his knees, and his eyes, turned slightly upward, seemed to 
 seek for some one he found it difficult to recognize. Changed as he 
 was by time, heavily as years had done their work upon him, the 
 stern features were not to be mistaken. As I looked, he called out, 
 in a voice whose unshaken firmness seemed to defy the touch of time : 
 
 " Charley O'Malley ! come here, my boy. Bring her to me, till I 
 bless you both. Come here, Lucy : I may call you so. Come here, 
 my children. I have tried to live on to see this day, when the head 
 
758 CHARLES O'M ALLEY. 
 
 of an old house comes back with honor, with fame, and with for- 
 tune, to dwell amidst his own people in the old home of his fathers." 
 
 The old man bent above us, his white hair falling upon the fair 
 locks of her who knelt beside him, and pressed his cold and quiver- 
 ing hand within her own. 
 
 "Yes, Lucy," said I, as I led her within the house, "this is 
 home." 
 
 Here now ends my story. The patient reader who has followed 
 me so far, deserves at my hands that I should not trespass upon his 
 kindness one moment beyond the necessity ; if, however, any lurking 
 interest may remain for some of those who have accompanied me 
 through this my history, it may be as well that I should say a few 
 words further, ere they disappear forever. 
 
 Power went to India immediately after his marriage, distinguished 
 himself repeatedly in the Burmese war, and finally rose to a high 
 command, that he at this moment holds, with honor to himself and 
 advantage to his country. 
 
 O'Shaughnessy, on half-pay, wanders about the Continent; pass- 
 ing his summers on the Rhine, his winters at Florence or Geneva. 
 Known to and by everybody, his interest in the service keeps him 
 au courant to every change and regulation, rendering him an invalu- 
 able companion to all to whom an army list is inaccessible. He is 
 the same good fellow he ever was, and adds to his many excellent 
 qualities the additional one of being the only man who can make a 
 bull in French ! 
 
 Monsoon, the Major, when last I saw him, was standing on the 
 pier at Calais, endeavoring, with a cheap telescope, to make out the 
 Dover cliffs, from a nearer prospect of which certain little family 
 circumstances might possibly debar him. He recognized me in a 
 moment, and held out his hand, while his eye twinkled with its 
 ancient drollery. 
 
 " Charley, my son, how goes it ? Delighted to see you. What a 
 pity I did not meet you yesterday ! Had a little dinner at Crillon's. 
 Harding, Vivian, and a few others. They all wished for you; 'pon 
 my life they did." 
 
 " Civil, certainly," thought I, " as I have not the honor of being 
 known to them." 
 
 " You are at Maurice's," resumed he ; " a very good house, but 
 give you bad wine, if they don't know you. They know me," added 
 he, in a whisper : " never try any tricks upon me. I'll just drop in 
 upon you at six." 
 
 " It is most unfortunate, Major ; I can't have the pleasure you 
 speak of; we start in half an hour." 
 
CONCL USION. 759 
 
 " Never mind, Charley, never mind ; another time. By the bye, 
 now I think of it, don't you remember something of a ten-pound 
 note you owe me?" 
 
 " As well as I remember, Major, the circumstance was reversed : 
 you are the debtor." 
 
 " Upon my life you are right ; how droll. No matter, let me have 
 the ten, and I'll give you a check for the whole." 
 
 The Major thrust his tongue into his cheek as he spoke, gave an- 
 other leer, pocketed the note, and sauntered down the pier muttering 
 something to himself about King David and greenhorns ; but how 
 they were connected I could not precisely overhear. 
 
 Baby Blake, or Mrs. Sparks, to call her by her more fitting appel- 
 lation, is as handsome as ever, and not less good-natured and light- 
 hearted, her severest trials being her ineffectual efforts to convert 
 Sparks into something like a man for Galway. 
 
 Last of all, Mickey Free. Mike remains attached to our fortune 
 firmly, as at first he opened his career ; the same gay, rollicksome 
 Irishman, making songs, making love, and occasionally making 
 punch, he spends his days and his nights pretty much as he was 
 wont to do some thirty years ago. He obtains an occasional leave 
 of absence for a week or so, but for what precise purpose, or with 
 what exact object, I have never been completely able to ascertain. I 
 have heard it as true, that a very fascinating companion and a most 
 agreeable gentleman frequents a certain oyster-house in Dublin, 
 called Burton Bindon's. I have also been told of a distinguished 
 foreigner, whose black moustache and broken English were the ad- 
 miration of Cheltenham for the last two winters. I greatly fear, 
 from the high tone of the conversation in the former, and for the 
 taste in continental characters in the latter resort, that I could fix 
 upon the individual whose convivial and social gifts have won so 
 much of their esteem and admiration ; but were I to run on thus, I 
 should recur to every character of my story, with each and all of 
 whom you have doubtless grown well wearied. So here, for the 
 last time, and with every kind wish, I say — adieu I 
 
Standard and Popular Books 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 Porter & Koates, Philadelphia, Pi 
 
 WAVERLEY NOVELS. By Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 The Fortunes of Nigel. 
 
 Peveril of the Peak. 
 
 Quentin Durward. 
 
 6t. Ronan's Well. 
 
 Redgauntlet. 
 
 The Betrothed; and The Talisman. 
 
 Woodstock. 
 
 The Fair Maid of Perth. 
 
 Anne of Geierstein. 
 
 Count Robert of Paris; and Castle 
 
 Dangerous. 
 Chronicles of the Canongate. 
 
 ♦Waverley. 
 
 *Guy Mannering. 
 
 The Antiquary. 
 
 Rob Roy. 
 
 Black Dwarf; and Old Mortality. 
 
 The Heart of Mid-Lothian. 
 
 The Bride of Larnmermoor; and A 
 
 Legend of Montrose. 
 ♦Ivanhoe. 
 The Monastery. 
 The Abbott. 
 Kenilworth. 
 The Pirate. 
 
 Household Edition. 23 vols. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, 
 black and gold, per vol., $1.00; sheep, marbled edges, per vol., 
 $1.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per vol., $3.00. Sold sepa- 
 rately in cloth binding only. 
 
 Universe Edition. 25 vols. Printed on thin paper, and con- 
 taining one illustration to the volume. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black 
 and gold, per vol., 75 cts. 
 
 World Edition. 12 vols. Thick 12mo. (Sold in sets only.) 
 Cloth, extra, black and gold, $18.00; half imt. Eussia, marbled 
 edges, $24.00. 
 
 This is the best edition for the library or for general use published. Its 
 convenient size, the extreme legibility of the type, which is larger than 
 is used in any other 12mo edition, either English or American. 
 
 TALES OF A GRANDFATHER. By Sir Walter Scott, Bark 
 4 vols. Uniform with the Waverley Novels. 
 
 Household Edition. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black 
 and gold, per vol, $1.00; sheep, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50; 
 half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per vol., $3.00. 
 
 This edition contains the Fourth Sories — Tales from French history— »nJ 
 is the only complete edition published in this country. 
 
 (1) 
 
PORTER & COATES' PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 CHARLES DICKENS' COMPLETE WORKS. Author's Edition. 
 14 vols., with a portrait of the author on steel, and eight 
 illustrations by P. O. C. Darley, Cruikshank, Fildes, Eytingc, 
 and others, in each volume. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and 
 gold, per vol., $1.00; sheep, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50; half 
 imt. Russia, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50: half calf, gilt, 
 marbled edges, per vol., $2.75. 
 
 *Pickwick Papers. Christinas Books, Uncommercial 
 
 liver Twist, Pictur 
 
 •Oliver Twist, Pictures of Italy, and 
 
 American Notes. 
 ♦Nicholas Nickleby. 
 Old Curiosity Shop, and Reprinted 
 
 Pieces. 
 Barnahy Rudge, and Hard Times. 
 *Martiu ( huzzlewit. 
 Dumb >y and Son. 
 ♦David Copperfield. 
 
 Traveller, and Additional 
 
 Christmas Stories. 
 Bleak House. 
 Little Don it. 
 Tale of Two Cities, and Great Ex* 
 
 pectations. 
 Our Mutual Friend. 
 Edwin Drood, Sketches, Master 
 
 Humphrey's Clock, etc., etc. 
 
 Sold separately in cloth binding only. 
 *Also in Alta Edition, one illustration, 75 cents. 
 The same. Universe Edition. Printed on thin paper and con- 
 taining one illustration to the volume. 14 vols., 12mo. Cloth, 
 extra, black and gold, per vol., 75 cents. 
 
 The same. World Edition. 7 vols., thick 12mo., $12.25. (Sold 
 in sets only.) 
 
 CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By Charles Dickens. 
 Popular 12mo. edition; from new electrotype plates. Large 
 clear type. Beautifully illustrated with 8 engravings on wood. 
 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.00. 
 Alta Edition. One illustration, 75 cents. 
 
 " Dickens as a novelist and prose poet is to be classed in the front rank of 
 the noble company to which be belongs. He has revived the novel of genu- 
 ine practical life, as it existed in the works of Fielding, Smollett, and Gold- 
 smith; but at the same time has given to his material an individual coloring 
 and expression peculiarly his own. His characters, like those of his great 
 exemplars, constitute a world of their own, whose truth to nature every 
 reader instinctively recognizes in connection with their truth to darkness." 
 — E. P. Whipple. 
 
 MACAULAY'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. From the accession 
 of James II. By Thomas Babington Macaulay. With a 
 steel portrait of the author. Printed from new electrotype 
 plates from the last English Edition. Being by far the most 
 correct edition in the American market. 5 volumes, 12mo. 
 Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $5.00; sheep, marbled 
 edges, per set, $7.50; half imitation Russia, $7.50; half calf, 
 gilt, marbled edges, per set, $15.00. 
 Popular Edition. 5 vols., cloth, plain, $5.00. 
 8vo. Edition. 5 volumes in one, with portrait. Cloth, extra, 
 black and srold, $3.00; sheep, marbled edges, $3.50. 
 MARTINEAU'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. From the beginning 
 of the 19th Century to the Crimean War. By Harriet Mar- 
 tine au. Complete in 4 vols., with full Index. Cloth, extra, 
 black and gold, per set, $4.00; sheep, marbled edges, $6.00 ; half 
 calf, gilt, marbled edges, $12.00. 
 
PORTER & COATES PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 HUME'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. From the invasion of 
 Julius Caesar to the abdication of James II, 1688. By David 
 Hume. Standard Edition. With the author's last corrections 
 and improvements; to which is prefixed a short account of 
 his life, written by himself. With a portrait on steel. A new 
 edition from entirely new stereotype plates. 5 vols., 12mo. 
 
 ' Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $5.00; sheep, marbled 
 edges, per set, $7.50; half imitation Russia, $7.50 ; half calf, 
 gilt, marbled edges, per set, $15.00. 
 Popular Edition. 5 vols. Cloth, plain, $5.00. 
 
 GIBBON'S DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. 
 By Edward Gibbon. With Notes, by Rev. H. H. Milman. 
 Standard Edition. To which is added a complete Index of 
 the work. A new edition from entirely new stereotype plates. 
 With portrait on steel. 5 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and 
 gold, per set, $5.00; sheep, marbled edges, per set, $7.50; ha'f 
 imitation Russia, $7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per set, 
 $15.00. 
 Popular Edition. 5 vols. Cloth, plain, $5.00. 
 
 ENGLAND, PICTURESQUE AND DESCRIPTIVE. By Joel 
 Cook, author of " A Holiday Tour in Europe," etc. With 487 
 finely engraved illustrations, descriptive of the most famous 
 and attractive places, as well as of the historic scenes and 
 rural life of England and Wales. With Mr. Cook's admirable 
 descriptions of the places and the country, and the splendid il- 
 lustrations, this is the most valuable and attractive book of tlio 
 season, and tbe sale will doubtless be very large. 4to. Cloth, 
 extra, gilt side and edges, $7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, 
 $10.00; half moracco, full gilt edges, $10.00; full Turkey mo- 
 rocco, gilt edges, $15.00; tree calf, gilt edges, $18.00. 
 This work, which is prepared in elegant style, and profusely illustrated, 
 Is a comprehensive description of England and Wales, arranged in conve- 
 nient form for the tourist, and at the same time providing an illustrated 
 guide-book to a country which Americans always view with interest. There 
 are few satisfactory works about this land which is so generously gifted by 
 Nature and so full of memorials of the past. Such books as there are, either 
 cover a few counties or are devoted to special localities, or are merely guide- 
 books. The present work is believed to be the first attempt to give in attrac- 
 tive form a description of the stately homes, renowned castles, ivy-clad ruina 
 of abbeys, churches, and ancient fortresses, delicious scenery, rock-bound 
 coasts, and celebrated places of England and Wales. It is written by an 
 author fully competent from travel and reading, and in position to properly 
 describe his very interesting subject; and the artist's pencil has beeu called 
 into requisition to graphically illustrate its well-written pages. There are 
 487 illustrations, prepared in the highest style of the engraver's art, while 
 the book itself is one of the most attractive ever presented to the American 
 public. 
 
 Its method of construction is systematic, following the most convenient 
 routes taken by tourists, and the letter-press includes enough of the history 
 and legend of each of the places described to make the story highly inter- 
 esting. Its pages fairly overflow with picture and description, telling of 
 everything attractive that is presented by England and Wales. Executed 
 In tht highest style of the printer's and engraver's art, "England, Pictv*»» 
 es^us* ,nd Descriptive," is one of the best American books of the year. 
 
PORTER & COATES 7 PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE CIVIL WAE IN AMERICA. By the Comtb 
 De Paris. With Maps faithfully Engraved from the Origin- 
 als, and Printed in Three Colors. 8vo. Cloth, per volume, 
 $3.50; red cloth, extra, Roxburgh style, uncut edges, $3.50; 
 sheep, library style, $4.50; half Turkey morocco, $6.00. Vols. 
 I, II, and III now ready. 
 
 The third volume embraces, without abridgment, the fifth and sixth 
 volumes of the French edition, and covers one of the most interesting as 
 well as the most anxious periods of the war, describing the operations of the 
 Army of the Potomac in the East, and the Army of the Cumberland and 
 Tennessee in the West. 
 
 It contains full accounts of the battle of Chancellorsville, the attack of the 
 monitors on Fort Sumter, the sieges and fall of Vicksburg and Port Hudson ; 
 the battles of Port Gibson and Champion's Hill, and the fullest and most 
 authentic account of the battle of Gettysburg ever written. 
 
 "The head of the Orleans family has put pen to paper with excellent 
 
 result Our present impression is that it will form by far the best 
 
 history of the American war." — Athenceum, London. 
 
 " We advise all Americans to read it carefully, and judge for themselves 
 if 'the future historian of our war,' of whom we have heard so much, be not 
 already arrived in the Comte de Paris."— Nation, New York. 
 
 "This is incomparably the best account of our great second revolution 
 that has yet been even attempted. It is so calm, so di>passionate, so accurate 
 in detail, and at the same time so philosophical in general, that its reader 
 counts confidently on finding the complete work thoroughly satisfactory." — 
 Evening Bulletin, Philadelphia. 
 
 "The work expresses the calm, deliberate judgment of an experienced 
 military observer and a highly intelligent man. Many of its statements 
 will excite discussion, but we much mistake if it does not take high and 
 permanent ran it among the standard histories of the civil war. Indeed 
 that place has been assigned it by the most competent critics both of thia 
 country and abroad." — Times, Cincinnati. 
 
 "Messrs. Porter & Coates, of Philadelphia, will publish in a few days the 
 authorized translation of the new volume of the Comte de Paris' History of 
 Our Civil War. The two volumes in French — the fifth and sixth — are bound 
 together in the translation in one volume. Our readers already know, 
 through a table of contents of these volumes, published in the cable columns 
 of the Herald, the period covered by this new installment of a work remark- 
 able in several ways. It includes the most important and decisive period of 
 the war, and the two great campaigns of Gettysburg and Vicksburg. 
 
 "The great civil war has had no better, no abler historian than the French 
 prince who, emulating the example of Lafayette, took part in this new 
 struggle for freedom, and who now writes of events, in many of which he 
 participated, as an accomplished officer, and one who, by his independent 
 position, his high character and eminent talents, was placed in circum- 
 stances and relations which gave him almost unequalled opportunities to 
 gain correct information and form impartial judgments. 
 
 "The new installment of a work which has already become a classic will 
 be read with increased interest by Americans because of the importance of 
 the period it covers and the stirring events it describes. In advance of a 
 careful review we present to-day some extracts from the advance sheets sent 
 us by Messrs. Porter & Coates, which will give our readers a foretaste of 
 chapters which bring back to memory so many half-forgotten and not a few 
 hitherto unvalued details of a time which Americans of this generation at 
 least cannot read of without a fresh thrilJ of excitement." 
 
PORTER & COATES PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 HALF-HOURS WITH THE BEST AUTHORS. With short Bi- 
 ographical and Critical Notes. By Charles Knight. 
 
 New Household Editiou. With six portraits ou steel. 3 vols., 
 thick 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $1.50; half imt. 
 Russia, marbled edges, $6.00 ; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $12.00. 
 
 Library Edition. Printed on fine laid and tinted paper. With 
 twenty-four portraits on steel. 6 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, per 
 set, $7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per set, $18.00; half Rus- 
 sia, gilt top, $21.00; full French morocco, limp, per set, $12.00; 
 full smooth Russia, limp, round corners, in Russia case, per set, 
 $25.00; full s?al grained Russia, limp, round corners, in Russia 
 case to match, $25.00. 
 
 The excellent idea of the editor of these choice volumes has been most 
 admirably carried out, as will be seen by the list of authors upon all sub- 
 jects. S'U-cting some choice passages of the best standard authors, each of suffi- 
 cient length to occupy half an hour in its perusal, there is here food for 
 thought for every day in the year: so that if the purchaser will devote but 
 one-half hour each day to its appropriate selection he will read through 
 these six volum°s in one year, and in such a leisurely manner that the 
 noblest thoughts of many of the greatest minds will be firmly in his mind 
 forever. For every Sunday there is a suitable selection from some of the 
 most eminent writers in sacred literature. We venture to say if the editor's 
 idea is carried out the reader will possess more and better knowledge of the 
 English classics at the end of the year than he would by five years of desul- 
 tory rending. 
 
 They can be commenced at any day in the year. The variety of reading 
 is so great that no one will ever tire of these volumes. It is a library in 
 itself. 
 
 THE POETRY OF OTHER LANDS. A Collection of Transla- 
 tions into English Verse of the Poetry of Other Languages, 
 Ancient and Modern. Compiled by N. Clemmons Hunt. 
 Containing translations from the Greek, Latin, Persian, Ara- 
 bian, Japanese, Turkish, Servian, Russian, Bohemian, Polish, 
 Dutch, German, Italian, French, Spanish, and Portuguese 
 languages. 12mo. Cloth, extra, gilt edges, $2.50 ; half calf, gilt, 
 marbled edges, $4.00 ; Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $6.00. 
 " Another of the publications of Porter & Coates, called 'The Poetry of 
 
 Other Lands,' compiled by N. Clemmons Hunt, we most warmly commend. 
 
 It is one of the best collections we have seen, containing many exquisite 
 
 f»oems and fragments of verse which have not before been put into book 
 orm in English words. We find many of the old favorites, which appear 
 in every well-selected collection of sonnets and songs, and we miss others, 
 which seem a necessity to complete the bouquet of grasses and flowers, 
 some of which, from time to time, we hope to republish in the ' Courier. '"— 
 Cincinnati Courier. 
 
 "A book of rare excellence, because it gives a collection of choice gems in 
 many languages not available to the general lover of poetry. It contains 
 translations from the Greek, Latin, Persian, Arabian, Japanese, Turkish, 
 Servian, Russian, Bohemian, Polish, Dutch, German, Italian, French, 
 Spanish, and Portuguese languages. The book will be an admirable com- 
 panion volume to any one of the collections of English poetry that are now 
 fmblished. With the full index of authors immediately preceding the col- 
 ection, and the arrangement of the poems under headings, the reader will 
 find it convenient for reference. It is a gift that will be more valued by 
 very many than some of the transitory ones at these holiday times."-* 
 Philadelphia Methodist. 
 
PORTER & COATES 7 PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE FIEESIDE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF POETEY. Edited by 
 Henry T. Coates. This is the latest, and beyond doubt the 
 best collection of poetry published. Printed on fine paper and 
 illustrated with thirteen steel engravings and fifteen title 
 pages, containing portraits of prominent American poets and 
 fac-similes of their handwriting, made expressly for this book. 
 8vo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, gilt edges, $5.00 ; half calf, 
 gilt, marbled edges, $7.50 ; half morocco, full gilt edges, $7.50 ; 
 full Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $10.00 ; tree calf, gilt edges, 
 $12.00 ; plush, padded side, nickel lettering, $14.00. 
 
 "The editor shows a wide acquaintance with the most precious treasures 
 of English verse, and has gathered the most admirable specimens of their 
 ample wealth. Many pieces which have been passed by in previous collec- 
 tions hold a place of honor in the present volume, and will be heartily wel- 
 comed by the lovers of poetry as a delightful addition to their sources of 
 enjoyment. It is a volume rich in solace, in entertainment, in inspiration, 
 of which the possession may well be coveted by every lover of poetry. The 
 pictorial illustrations of the work are in keeping with its poetical contents, 
 and the beauty of the typographical execution entitles it to a place among 
 the choicest ornaments of the library ."—New York Tribune. 
 
 "Lovers of good poetry will find this one of the richest collections ever 
 made. All the best singers in our language are represented, and the selec- 
 tions are generally those which reveal their highest qualities The 
 
 lights and shades, the finer play of thought and imagination belonging to 
 individual authors, are brought out in this way (by the arrangement of 
 poems under subject-headings) as they would not be under any other sys- 
 tem We are deeply impressed with the keen appreciation of poetical 
 
 worth, and also with the good taste manifested by the compiler."— Church- 
 man. 
 
 "Cyclopaedias of poetry are numerous, hut for sterling value of its contents 
 for the library, or as a book of reference, no work of the kind will compare 
 with this admirable volume of Mr. Coates It takes the gems from many 
 volumes, culling with rare skill and judgment."— Chicago Inter-Ocean. 
 
 THE CHILDEEN'S BOOK OF POETEY. Compiled by Henry 
 T. Coates. Containing over 500 poems carefully selected 
 from the works of the best and most popular writers for chil- 
 dren ; with nearly 200 illustrations. The most complete col- 
 lection of poetry for children ever published. 4to. Cloth, 
 extra, black and gold, gilt side and edges, $3.00; full Turkey 
 morocco, gilt edges, $7.50. 
 "This seems to us the best book of poetry for children in existence. We 
 Have examined many other collections, but we cannot name another that 
 deserves to be compared with this admirable compilation."— Worcester Spy. 
 "The special value of the book lies in the fact that it nearly or quite 
 covers the entire field. There is not a great deal of good poetry which has 
 been written for children that cannot, be found in this book. The collection 
 is particularly strong in ballads and tales, which are apt to interest children 
 more than poems of other kinds; and Mr. Coates has shown good judgment 
 in supplementing this department with some of the best poems of that class 
 that have been written for grown people. A surer method of forming the 
 taste of children for good and pure literature than by reading to them from 
 any portion of this book can hardly be imagined*. The volume is richly 
 illustrated and beautifully bound." — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 
 
 "A more excellent volume cannot be found. We have found within the 
 covers of this handsome volume, and upon its fair pages, many of the most 
 exquisite poems which our language contains. It must hecome a standard 
 vplume, and can never grow old or obsolete."— Episcopal Recorder. 
 
PORTER & COATES PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE COMPLETE WOEKS OF THOS. HOOD. With engravings 
 
 on steel. 4 vols., 12mo., tinted paper. Poetical Works ; Up 
 
 the Rhine; Miscellanies and Hood's Own; Whimsicalities, 
 
 Whims, and Oddities. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $6.00; 
 
 red cloth, paper label, gilt top, uncut edges, $6.00; half calf, 
 
 gilt, marbled edges, $14.00; half Russia, gilt top, $18.00. 
 
 Hood's verse, whether serious or comic— whether serene like a cloudless 
 
 autumn evening or sparkling with puns like a frosty January midnight 
 
 with stars— was ever pregnant with materials for the thought. Like every 
 
 author distinguished for true comic humor, there was a deep vein of mrlan- 
 
 choly pathos running through his mirth, aud even when his sun shone 
 
 brightly its light seemed often reflected as if only over the rim of a cloud. 
 
 Well may we say, in the words of Tennyson, " Would he could have 
 stayed with us." for never could it be more truly recorded of any one— in 
 the words of Hamlet characterizing Yorick— that "he was a fellow of in- 
 finite jest, of most excellent fancy." D. M. Mora. 
 THE ILIAD OF HOMER RENDERED INTO ENGLISH 
 BLANK VERSE. By Edward, Earl of Derby. From 
 the latest London edition, with all the author's last revisions 
 and corrections, and with a Biographical Sketch of Lord 
 Derby, by R. Shelton Mackenzie, D.C.L. With twelve 
 steel engravings from Flaxman's celebrated designs. 2 vols., 
 12mo. Cloth, extra, bev. boards, gilt top, $3.50; half calf, gilt, 
 marbled edges, $7.00; half Turkey morocco, gilt top, $7.00. 
 The same. Popular edition. Two vols, in one. 12mo. Cloth, 
 extra, $1.50. 
 
 "It must equally he considered a splendid performance; and for the pres- 
 ent we have no hesitation in saying that it is by far the best representation 
 of Homer's Iliad in th« English language."— London Times. 
 
 "The merits of Lord Derby's translation may be summed up in one word, 
 it is eminently attractive; it is instinct with life ; it may be read with fervent 
 interest; it is immeasurably nearer than Pope to the text of the original. . 
 . . . Lord Derby has y;iven a version far more closely allied to the original, 
 and superior to any that has yet been attempted in the blank verse of our 
 language." — Edinburg Review. 
 
 THE WORKS OF FLAVIUS JOSEPHUS. Comprising the Anti- 
 quities of the Jews; a History of the Jewish Wars, and a Life 
 of Flavius Josephus, written by himself. Translated from the 
 original Greek, by William Whiston, A.M. Together with 
 numerous explanatory Notes and seven Dissertations concern- 
 ing Jesus Christ, John the Baptist, James the Just, God's com- 
 mand to Abraham, etc., with an Introductory Essay by Rev. 
 H. Stebbing, D.D. 8vo. Cloth,, extra, black and gold, plain 
 edges, $3.00; cloth, red, black and gold, gilt edges, $4.50; sheep, 
 marbled edges, $3.50; Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $8.00. 
 This is the largest type one volume edition published. 
 
 THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE EGYPTIANS, CARTHA- 
 GINIANS, ASSYRIANS, BABYLONIANS, MEDES AND 
 PERSIANS, GRECIANS AND MACEDONIANS. Including 
 a History of the Arts and Sciences of the Ancients. By 
 Charles Rollin. W^th a Life of the Author, by James 
 Bell. 2 vols., royal 8vo. Sheep, marbled edges, per set, $6.00. 
 
8 PORTER & COATES PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 COOKERY FROM EXPERIENCE. A Practical Guide for House- 
 keepers iu the Preparation of Every-day Meals, containing 
 more than One Thousand Domestic Recipes, mostly tested by 
 Personal Experience, with Suggestions for Meals, Lists of 
 Meats and Vegetables in Season, etc. By Mrs. Saba T. Paul. 
 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.50. 
 Interleaved Edition. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.75. 
 
 THE COMPARATIVE EDITION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 
 Both Versions in One Book. 
 
 The proof readings of our Comparative Edition have been gone 
 over by so many competent proof readers, that we believe the text 
 is absolutely correct. 
 
 Large 12mo., 700 pp. Cloth, extra, plain edges, $1.50; cloth, 
 extra, bevelled boards and carmine edges, $1.75 ; imitation panelled 
 calf, yellow edges, $2.00; arabesque, gilt edges, $2.50; French mo- 
 rocco, limp, gilt edges, $4.00; Turkey morocco, limp, gilt edges, 
 $6.00. 
 
 The Comparative New Testament has been published by Porter & Coates. 
 In parallel columns on each page are given the old and new versions of the 
 Testament, divided also as far as practicable into comparative versos, so that 
 it is almost impossible for the slightest new word to escape the notice of 
 either the ordinary reader or the analytical student. It is decidedly' the 
 best edition yet published of the most interest-exciting literary production 
 of the day. No more convenient form for comparison could be devised 
 either for economizing time or labor. Another feature is the foot-notes, 
 and there is also given in an appendix the various words and expressions 
 preferred by the American member^ of the Revising Commission. The 
 work is handsomely printed on excellent paper with clear, legible type. It 
 contains nearly 700 pages. 
 
 THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO. By Alexandke Dumas. 
 Complete in one volume, with two illustrations by George G. 
 White. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.25. 
 
 THE THREE GUARDSMEN. By Alexandre Dumas. Com- 
 plete in one volume, with two illustrations by George G. 
 White. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.25. 
 There is a magic influence in his pen, a magnetic attraction in his descrip- 
 tions, a fertility in his literary resources which are characteristic of Dumas 
 alone, and the seal of the master of light literature is set upon all his works. 
 Even when not strictly historical, his romances give an insight into the 
 habits and modes of thought and action of the people of the time described, 
 which are not offered in any other author's productions. 
 
 THE LAST DAYS OF POMPEII. By Sir Edward Bulwer 
 Lytton, Bart. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and 
 gold, $1.00. Alta edition, one illustration, 75 cts. 
 
 JANE EYRE. By Charlotte Bronte (Currer Bell). New Li- 
 brary Edition. With five illustrations by E. M. Wimperis. 
 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.00. 
 
 SHIRLEY. By Charlotte Bronte (Currer Bell). New Library 
 Edition. With five illustrations by E. M. WIMPERIS. 12ma 
 Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.00. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, 
 BERKELEY 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 Books not returned on time are subject to a fine of 
 50c per volume after the third day overdue, increasing 
 to $1.00 per volume after the sixth day. Books not in 
 demand may be renewed if application is made before 
 expiration of loan period. 
 
 JUL %0 1931 «? 
 
 IP- 
 
 wi m mi 
 
 *» 19 1940 
 
 I'M B 
 
 8EC.CIR.JUN 12 ' 
 
 JUN 1 4 2003 
 
 ) K 
 
 ffl*& 
 
 75m-7,'30 
 
^ 
 
 514909 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY