n those days, and I found that without changing the
form of sentences, and sacrificing idioms, at times, I could not manage
the matter satisfactorily otherwise.

'He went over the salmon weir--I saw him--Coyle's--weir--headlong, poor
fellow! I shouted after him, but he could not anthwer, so pray let's be
off, and--'

Here he recognised the colonel with a low bow and paused. The commanding
officer instantaneously despatched Lieutenant Brady, who was there, to
order out Sergeant Blakeney and his guard, and any six good swimmers in
the regiment who might volunteer, with a reward of twenty guineas for
whoever should bring in Cluffe alive, or ten guineas for his body; and
the fat fellow all the time in his bed sipping sack posset!

So away ran Brady and a couple more of the young fellows at their best
pace--no one spared himself on this errand--and little Puddock and
another down to the bridge. It was preposterous.

By this time Lillyman was running like mad from Cluffe's lodgings along
Martin's Row to the rescue of Puddock, who, at that moment with his
friends and the aid of a long pole, was poking into a little floating
tanglement of withered leaves, turf, and rubbish, under the near arch of
the bridge, in the belief that he was dealing with the mortal remains of
Cluffe.

Lillyman overtook Toole at the corner of the street just in time to hear
the scamper of the men, at double-quick, running down the sweep of the
road to the bridge, and to hear the shouting that arose from the
parade-ground by the river bank, from the men within the barrack
precincts.

Toole joined Lillyman running.

'What the plague's this hubbub and hullo?' he cried.

'Puddock's drowned,' panted Lillyman.

'Puddock! bless us! where?' puffed Toole.

'Hollo! you, Sir--have they heard it--is he _drowned?_' cried Lillyman
to the sentry outside the gate.

'Dhrownded? yes, Sir,' replied the man saluting.

'Is help gone?'

'Yes, Sir, Lieutenant Brady, and Sergeant Blakeney, and nine men.'

'Come along,' cried Lillyman to Toole, and they started afresh. They
heard the shouting by the river bank, and followed it by the path round
the King's House, passing the Phoenix; and old Colonel Stafford, who
was gouty, and no runner, standing with a stern and anxious visage at
the door, along with old Trumble, Slowe, and Trimmer, and some of the
maids and drawers in the rear, all in consternation.

'Bring me the news,' screamed the colonel, as they passed