morning, without stirring a limb. Twice the reveille had rung through
the little encampment, and twice the quarter-master had essayed to open
his eyes, but in vain; at last he made a tremendous effort, and sat bolt
upright on the floor, hoping that the sudden effort might sufficiently
arouse him; slowly his eyes opened, and the first thing they beheld was
the figure of the dead priest, with a light cavalry helmet on his head,
seated before him. Ridgeway, who was "bon Catholique," trembled in every
joint--it might be a ghost, it might be a warning, he knew not what to
think--he imagined the lips moved, and so overcome with terror was he at
last, that he absolutely shouted like a maniac, and never cased till the
hut was filled with officers and men, who hearing the uproar ran to his
aid--the surprise of the poor quarter-master at the apparition, was
scarcely greater than that of the beholders--no one was able to afford
any explanation of the circumstance, though all were assured that it must
have been done in jest--the door upon which the priest had been conveyed,
afforded the clue--they had forgotten to restore it to its place
--accordingly the different billets were examined, and at last O'Flaherty
was discovered in a most commodious bed, in a large room without a door,
still fast asleep, and alone; how and when he had parted from his
companions, he never could precisely explain, though he has since
confessed it was part of his scheme to lead them astray in the village,
and then retire to the bed, which he had determined to appropriate to his
sole use.

Old Ridgeway's rage knew no bounds; he absolutely foamed with passion,
and in proportion as he was laughed at his choler rose higher; had this
been the only result, it had been well for poor Tom, but unfortunately
the affair got to be rumoured through the country--the inhabitants of the
village learned the indignity with which the Padre had been treated; they
addressed a memorial to Lord Wellington--inquiry was immediately