138 A GOOD STORY-TELLER. 



persuaded your kinsman could not have counted on a second 

 night's sleep for a fortnight." 



" Is the gentleman happy in description ?" I inquired. 



" Inimitable. ' He lies like truth/ I shall never forget 

 the first evening I met him." The Colonel took a prepa- 

 ratory pinch of brown mixture, and thus proceeded : 



" Before I retired from the army, I was ordered to Cas- 

 tlebar to attend a court-martial. It was then a most hospi- 

 table town, and during our stay I and the other members 

 of the Court had more invitations than we could possibly 

 accept of. 



"At a large dinner-party, the conversation turned on 

 circumstances connected with the disgraceful defeat of the 

 King's troops here, in Ninety-eight, by Humbert. An 

 elderly gentleman, opposite to me at table, favoured us with 

 a striking and spirited account of the affair, and none could 

 give it with more effect, for he had been a prominent actor 

 in the scene. 



" It was really the most soul-stirring narrative I had ever 

 listened to, and when in course of the detail the fortune 

 of the day threatened to become disastrous, the individual 

 exertions of this gallant gentleman appear to have been incre- 

 dible. He flew through every arm of the Royal Forces 

 objurgated the militia, lauded the artillery, encouraged the 

 irregulars, and d d the carbineers ; held momentary con- 

 sultation with three field officers, and the Lord only knows 

 how many subordinates besides and traversed the line from 

 one extremity to the other with such rapidity, as proved that 

 he must have been mounted on a race-horse, or possessed of 

 the gift of ubiquity itself. 



" When the panic became general and a rout inevitable, 

 it was melancholy to hear this veteran mourn over blighted 

 glory and blasted renown. He was forced away at last, it 

 appeared, by the remnant of the combatants ; but still, ' in 

 the ranks of death you'd find him/ retiring reluctantly 

 through the town, a sort of intermediate speck between his 

 own rear-guard and the French advance. How the deuce 

 he escaped the cross-fire of both, I never could compre- 

 hend. 



" I looked at him with wonder and respect no truculent 

 traces of war lined a harsh and merciless countenance no 



