CHAPTER XX.

A DAY IN DUBLIN.

On the third day of my residence at Curryglass, arrived my friend,
Mortimer, to replace me, bringing my leave from the colonel, and a most
handsome letter, in which he again glanced at the prospect before me in
the Callonby family, and hinted at my destination, which I had not
alluded to, adding, that if I made the pretence of study in Germany the
reason for my application at the Horse Guards, I should be almost certain
to obtain a six months' leave. With what spirits I ordered Stubber to
pack up my portmanteau, and secure our places in the Dublin mail for that
night, while I myself hurried to take leave of my kind entertainer and
his guests, as well as to recommend to their favor and attention my
excellent friend Mortimer, who, being a jovial fellow, not at all in
love, was a happy exchange for me, who, despite Daly's capital stories,
had spent the last two days in watching the high road for my successor's
arrival.

Once more then, I bade adieu to Curryglass and its hospitable owner,
whose labours for "justice to Ireland" I shall long remember, and
depositing myself in the bowels of his majesty's mail, gave way to the
full current of my hopes and imaginings, which at last ended in a sound
and refreshing sleep, from which I only awoke as we drew up at the door
of the Hibernian, in Dawson-street.

Even at that early hour there was considerable bustle and activity of
preparation, which I was at some loss to account for, till informed by