CHAPTER XXXIX. "O, good old man! how well in thee appears THE awful day of departure at length arrived. Anxiety for the safety of my charge, and other weighty matters, had allowed me but little sleep for the last two nights, and that day broke on my unfinished slumbers with an unwelcome light. I was about to remove, perhaps for ever, from the loved being, whose virtues, not less than her exquisite beauty, were the object of my dreams by night and my thoughts by day. I should, however, see her once more: that was some balm to my sinking heart. I was also destined to take a long farewell of that affectionate and worthy old man, Robin O'Farrell: his honest heart seemed ready to burst as he pressed my hand in his powerful grasp, and attempted to speak. I anticipated the request that hung upon his lips, though his tongue was unable to give it utterance, by assuring hin that on my march through Dublin I should wait on the good Countess and express my gratitude for all the care and kindness I had experienced from him, and how worthily he had fulfilled the task of duty imposed on him by that most amiable of women; nor should I forget to impress on her ladyship, that she had not on earth a more devoted, attached servant, than her faithful Robin O'Farrell. "One word more, sir," sobbed the old man-"My lord, sir; my good-my brave lord-," his tears interrupted him. I understood him, however.-"I know what you would say, Robin. We are, I believe, to form a part of the troops now about to embark to re-enforce the army under his lordship; and, as I shall be the bearer of letters to him, an opportuuity will be afforded me of doing justice to your merits; which I shall do, Robin, with all the warmth of a heart grateful for your attachment and kindness to me."-"Tell him, sir," said the old man, recovering himself," tell him that old Robin, who first taught him to fire a shot, still lives to bless his honoured name, and by day and night offers up to Heaven his humble prayers for his glory-for his honour and welfare!" What could I do, but give the promise? and so it happened, that before the end of the ensuing year I had the opportunity of fulfilling that pro mise; and the warm sensibility of heart with which my communication was received by that illustrious nobleman, established in my mind his claim to that devoted affection which he won from all who came within the sphere of his benevolent regards; and still more of gratifying the delighted old man by a letter conveying the grateful intelligence-the last happiness, perhaps, he ever enjoyed on this earth, as his death took place the following year. As for the widow, when she saw my squad paraded, she was inconsolable; her heart was full; her tap was empty; all the saints in her calendar were invoked for my protection. An ambrosial kiss from the pouting lips of the sweet Matty Malone closed a long and fervent benediction, and I took leave for ever of the loveliest of fat landladies! An hour's noisy march brought my party to Somerston, which village we found had been occupied the preceding night by the Dublin party, accompanied by a sergeant and fourteen men of the 34th regiment, attending as a kind of complimentary guard. The batch of recruits from Dublin consisted of nearly one hundred men, including crimp sergeants and lance-corporals, employed for the job, and whose chief business now was, to act as whippers-in on the march, and turnkeys at night. The squalid appearance of by far the greater number of the recruits showed them to be of that wretched whiskey-drinking class, the lower order of artisans, with which Dublin then, and indeed always abounded; but their spirits seemed to be elevated by the sight of the extensive fields of waving corn and distant mountains, objects which they had heard of, but to which their miserable habits had hitherto made them strangers. The party was commanded by a lieutenant and quarter-master, a half-crazed, half-crafty kind of fellow, who had been originally a tailor, or clothier, as he softened it down. His profession brought him in contact with the colonel, and he was appointed quarter-master. Amongst many other follies, he prided himself on being the best likeness of Henry the Eighth extant; and to indulge this fancy, had disfigured himself with a hat exactly like that in which the bluff monarch of many wives is usually represented. From his pickings as quarter-master, having charge of the barracks, or rather barricadoed house in Dublin, called "headquarters," where the volunteers were imprisoned, the providing of slop clothing, shirts, shoes, stockings, and cockades, he was very soon enabled to purchase an ensigncy and lieutenancy, still retaining the quarter-mastership, the best quarter in his escutcheon: a plurality of offices, perfectly allowable in those days. But that which gave strength to the wings of his amVOL. I 15 bition was the possession of a very pretty wife; a mine of wealth to a speculative husband like him, who knew the value of the shares in it. He had none of those scruples which maddened the jealous Moor, and, if report spoke truth, could "Keep a corner in the thing he loved for others' use" when there was a proper con-si-de-ra-tion! But when he saw his "flattering ruin" lavishing her smiles or favours on some needy subaltern, with no other recommendation than a handsome person and weedling tongue, the husband's honour became roused, and he blustered like his prototype; but it was all bluster; a hint from the wife, and a threat to "part convoy," always procured an armistice. There was, however, with his present party not one calculated to excite unpleasant feelings in his not over-delicate mind. Ensign Badcock, his second in command, was a fat, punchy, waddling little fellow of thirty, pock-marked, and blind of an eye; but full of fun, and ever ready with a song, which only wanted the adjuncts of taste and voice to render it agreeable to his hearers. His "Death of Wolfe," and his "High mettled Racer," were both chanted in the same tune and time. The next in honour and command, was a sickly looking lad, named Laidlow, equally unable to ride on horseback, or march on foot: following the party in funereal pace, upon a country car, attended by some of the Dublin graces, smoking their short pipes, and improving the effluvia thereof by a drop of whiskey at every sheebeen they met with in the line of march. At the head of the party marched two volunteers, gentlemen candidates for commissions-a sad ordeal! This party, after much trouble, had assembled, and were already paraded for the advance, when the faint notes of my whiffling fifer gave signal of our approach; and great was the surprise of Harry the Eighth, as he was nicknamed, when he beheld my troops. He had calculated on seeing some score of halfclad, rough-headed country fellows, only distinguished from the rabble by the cockade; but the broad and double-chinned visage of his highness of the hat gave evident tokens of surprise and satisfaction at their clean and soldier-like appearance. Every man of them was equipped from head to foot in the regimental dress, such as was then fixed on: every head was powdered and surmounted by the cap, tuft, and brilliant cockade. I had all the morning been endeavouring to impress on my squad the manœuvre of forming a decent front when halted; and considering the stuff on which I had to practice, it is astonishing how well they executed the task. When we faced the formidable line of ragamuffiins from the metropolis, and I had given the word "Stand at ease," the simultaneous slap of the hand sounded to my ears as grateful as the first thunder of applause from the pit to the flattered senses of the trembling debutant. Walking boldly up to the commanding-lieutenant, I paid my respects, and thrust into his hand a neatly folded "Return" of the squad. This was a ceremony which he appeared first not to understand; but which, when he did comprehend, gave rise to encomiums on myself and party. My arrival caused a farther delay in the march of the main body; during which time old Robin's mare once more had joined me. After a "standing drink" of ale to each of my party, all were ready for the start, and off we marched; the metropolitans in front; my party hanging on their rear like a corpse of observation, not imitation. 2 CHAPTER XL. "There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip; JUST as we had passed the last house of the village, the quarter-master's lady skimmed by me at a hand gallop, dressed in a blue riding-habit, and hat decorated with a regimental cockade. Being myself equally well mounted, I gave chase, and overtook the lady before she reached the head of the column, time enough to pay my respects in the ready language of the "service;" and to perceive that they were not the less acceptable from not having been warranted by any previous introduction. Arrived at the "Old King's Head," a term which I could not in my own mind refrain from bestowing on the quarter-master, I dismounted and respectfully invited—nay, insisted on his riding a couple of miles on my nag. An expressive glance at his lady satisfied her, at least, to whom the husband was indebted for this compliment. After many affected scruples on his part, I at length prevailed on him to mount; and the comfort he enjoyed in his short ride determined him to abandon the heroic resolve with which he set out on his first military movement-namely, to march at the head of his men like a soldier;—like a tailor he certainly might; but as to the soldier, that was a character he never was born to fill. There was little ceremony in making an acquaintance with honest Ned Badcock; and I had not been ten minutes in conversation with this jovial fellow, before my vocal powers were put to trial, with which he seemed vastly pleased. His memory was the depositary, of the words at least, of every song written and published during the preceding twenty years. But that which at present seemed to take entire possession of his mind, now fired with military glory, was the delightful doggrel of which the following is an extract: "A soldier, he boldly walks the town, He stares at the lord, at a squire looks down, Strike home every one, and we will be victorious." The looks of ineffable contempt thrown on him by the quartermaster's lady would probably have checked his mirth, could he have perused them; but she took either the mean, or humane advantage of getting on the blind side of him; thus affording the lookers-on the evidence of that scorn of which the object was happily unconscious. There is a tendency in minds tainted with the sin of personal vanity to be drawn towards each other by those hidden principles of attraction which are too subtle for even the possessors to perceive. I admired myself in that flattering mirror, the face of the quarter-mistress, in which I saw myself, as I imagined, reflected with ten thousand advantages; while she, on her part, felt conscious of the power of her beauties, from the expressive ardour with which my eyes shot back on herself the dazzling brightness of her own. She was a most seducing woman, and would have been sufficiently beautiful in the charms of her natural countenance without "the aggravations of art;" but her ambition was to kill not wound. Any thing short of the most warm and impassioned declaration would have appeared dead and cold to her. As I walked occasionally at her "off-side," she had no occasion to doubt the magnetic power of her charms on me. At length it became my turn to ride. The two miles were traversed, and the lady was, I dare say, promising herself an agreeable tete-a-tete, when I announced the necessity of my making a little detour, in order to take leave of some friends at Templemore. This communication threw an expression of |