CHAPTER XII. 



Regimental Prisoners. 



While we were at Birr, a deserter was brought back to 

 us, who had been absent for a long time, and who 

 furnished me with a very curious statement of his life. 

 He was a highly intelligent man, quite young, and his 

 history was remarkable. His father was a reporter in the 

 House of Lords, and he himself had been a reporter in the 

 House of Commons, but such a life was far too monotonous 

 for him, and he joined a gang of pickpockets in London. 

 He very soon became the head of the gang, and after a 

 more than usually daring robbery, the police got upon his 

 track, so to avoid detection he enlisted into our battalion. 

 From his abilities and quiet conduct he was speedily pro- 

 moted, and for the time being was quite satisfied with his 

 life, till one day, when he was on the barrack square, a 

 man in plain clothes entered the gate, and he speedily 

 recognised the familiar face of a detective from London, 

 whom he guessed was upon his track. Whilst the latter 

 was making his inquiries, the other effected his escape, 

 and getting safe to one of the northern ports, embarked 

 as a sailor on board a whaler, which was just then 

 starting for the Arctic Seas. After spending nearly two 

 years there the vessel returned, and he had made all 

 arrangements to ship on board another vessel without 

 landing, and return a second time for a whaling voyage, 



