204 TOM Bellamy's adventure. 



'Firinginto the enemy, sir,' cried I, quite coolly. 'Confound you, sir/ 

 why you are firing into your Colonel's escort.' This I found to be 

 perfectly true, and overcome with confusion, the remainder of the 

 events of the sham fight passed without much notice from me. After 

 the business of the day, on adjourning to the mess room, I was most 

 awfully badgered by the rest ; the invariable answer to what are you 

 doing so and so, being, * firing into the enemy, sir.' Imtated by this I 

 drank more wine than was prudent, and soon had an idea that the 

 company had very much increased ; we had two presidents where there 

 had been one, and more majors, captains, and lieutenants, than I 

 ever knew to belong to one regiment. As it was now getting late, I 

 tried with a great effort to make out the exact time ; after nearly 

 raising a blush on the face of the clock, by staring so intently, I made 

 out that it was time to leave. Not observing the winks and nods that 

 passed round I took my departure, and hurried to the place of meeting, 

 there I found everything ready but my fair one. After waiting a short 

 time I observed a female figure hastening up the road. T rushed 

 forward exclaiming ' my dearest Julia, I was afraid some accident 

 had occurred to prevent you coming.' I received no answer to this 

 address; this rather bothered me, but I was not perfectly clear in my 

 intellects, so I ventured again, 'Come fly with me on the wings of love,* 

 (curiously represented by an old chaise and two elderly posters, one 

 blind^ the other lame) ; not getting any answer to this, and my Julia 

 taking very unfeminine strides towards the chaise, I was still more 

 surprised. On getting there, by the light of one of the lamps, I 

 observed a pair of corduroy trousers peeping out from her petticoats, 

 and her feet encased in high-lows. Looking with amazement at her, 

 I said — ' dearest Julia, have you had great difficulty to escape the 

 vigilance of your father.' What was my surprise on hearing issue 

 from beneath the folds of her veil, in a rich Irish brogue — ' the divil 

 a bit.' ' Then why,' said I, ' this uncouth disguise, the corduroys, 

 the high-lows.' I was cut short, by her hastening off; walking after 

 I entreated her to return, and the corduroys should be buried in my 

 bosom for ever.' ' I would'nt do sich a thing,' said she. ' Why, 

 love, why,' cried I, getting a little more sober, ' allow me to receive 

 my pardon from those ruby lips.' 'Arrah, be quiet now,' said she. 

 Continuing to implore her return, she stopped, lifted up her veil. 



