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; sure, he was
left in the cottage near the bridge, and no one ever 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 Verdun by this time."

"Sure, I told you he'd find his way here--But, O'Mealey, dear, you're