"Is he alive, sir, now?"

"I believe so, ma'am; but I hear the climate does not agree with him."

"Ah, then, he's abroad! In Italy probably?"

"No, ma'am, in Botany Bay. His brother, they say, might have saved him,
but he left poor Tom to his fate, for he was just then paying court to a
Miss Crow, I think, with a large fortune. Oh, Lord, what have I said,
it's always the luck of me!" The latter exclamation was the result of a
heavy saugh upon the floor, Mrs. Bingham having fallen in a faint--she
being the identical lady alluded to, and her husband the brother of
pleasant Tom Bingham.

To hurl Mr. O'Leary out of the room by one hand, and ring the bell with
the other, was the work of a moment; and with proper care, and in due
time, Mrs. Bingham was brought to herself, when most fortunately, she
entirely forgot the cause of her sudden indisposition; and, of course,
neither her daughter nor myself suffered any clue to escape us which
might lead to its discovery.

When we were once more upon the road, to efface if it might be necessary
any unpleasant recurrence to the late scene, I proceeded to give Mrs.
Bingham an account of my adventure at Chantraine, in which, of course, I
endeavoured to render my friend O'Leary all the honours of being laughed
at in preference to myself, laying little stress upon my masquerading in
the jack-boots.

"You are quite right," said O'Leary, joining in the hearty laugh against
him, "quite right, I was always a very heavy sleeper--indeed if I wasn't