r--a greater gulf severed them--so near, and yet a star in
distance--with a strange mixture of sadness and defiance, tenderness and
fury.

CHAPTER LXII.

OF A SOLEMN RESOLUTION WHICH CAPTAIN DEVEREUX REGISTERED AMONG HIS
HOUSEHOLD GODS, WITH A LIBATION.

When Devereux entered his drawing-room, and lighted his candles, he was
in a black and bitter mood. He stood at the window for a while, and
drummed on the pane, looking in the direction of the barrack, where all
the fun was going on, but thinking, in a chaotic way, of things very
different, and all toned with that strange sense of self-reproach and
foreboding which, of late, had grown habitual with him--and not without
just cause.

'This shall be the last. 'Twas dreadful, seeing that poor Nan; and I
want it--I can swear, I really and honestly want it--only one glass to
stay my heart. Everyone may drink in moderation--especially if he's
heart-sick, and has no other comfort--one glass and no more--curse it.'

So one glass of brandy--I'm sorry to say, unmixed with water--the
handsome misanthropist sipped and sipped, to the last drop; and then sat
down before his fire, and struck, and poked, and stabbed at it in a
bitter, personal sort of way, until here and there some blazes leaped
up, and gave his eyes a dreamy sort of occupation; and he sat back, with
his hands in his pockets, and his feet on the fender, gazing among the
Plutonic peaks and caverns between the bars.

'I've had my allowance for to-night; to-morrow night, none at all. 'Tis
an accursed habit: and I'll not allow it to creep upon me. No, I've
never fought it fairly, as I mean to do now--'tis quite easy, if one has
but the will to do it.'

So he sat before his fire, chewing the cud of bitter fancy only; and he
recollected he had not quite filled his glass, and up he got with a
swagger, and says he--

'We'll drink fair, if you please--one glass--one only--but that, hang
it--a bumper.'

So he made a rough calculation.

'We'll say so much--here or there, 'tis no great matter. A thimble full
won't drown me. Pshaw! that's too much. What am I to do with it?--hang
it. Well, we can't help it--'tis the last.'

So whatever the quantity may have been, he drank it too, and grew more
moody; and was suddenly called up from the black abyss by the entrance
of little Puddock, rosy and triumphant, from the ball.

'Ha! Puddock! Then, the fun's over. I'm glad to see you. I've been
_tete-a-tete_ with my shad