h all the honours, gentlemen--for let me say, in no
one quality has he his superior in the regiment. His wit we can all
appreciate; his ingenuity I can speak to 'his generosity--you have
lauded 'mine'--but think of 'his.' As I spoke I pointed to the door,
where my ferocious-looking Indian stood, in all his war-paint, wearing
on his head the full-dress cocked-hat of the captain, while over his
shoulders was thrown his large blue military-cloak, oyer which, he had
skilfully contrived to make a hasty decoration of brass ornaments, and
wild-birds' feathers.

"'Look there!' said I, exultingly, as the fellow nodded his plumed-hat
and turned majestically round, to be fully admired.

"'Have you dared, sir?'--roared he, frothing with passion and clenching
his fist towards me--but a perfect cheer of laughter overpowered his
words. Many rolled off their seats and lay panting and puffing on the
ground; some, turned away half-suffocated with their struggles, while
a few, more timid than the rest, endeavoured to conceal their feelings,
and seemed half-alarmed at the consequences of my impertinence. When the
mirth had a little subsided, it was remarked, that Hubbart was gone--no
one had seen how or when--but he was no longer among us.

"'Come, gentlemen, said I, 'the new bowl is ready for you, and your
toast is not yet drunk. All going so early? Why, it's not eleven yet.'

"But so it was--the impulse of merriment over--the _esprit du corps_
came back in all its force, and the man, whose feelings they had not
scrupled to outrage and insult, they turned on, the very moment he had
the courage to assert his honour. One by One passed out--some, with a
cool nod--others, a mere look--many, never even noticed me at all; and
one, the last, I believe, dropping a little behind, whispered as he
went, 'Sorry for you, faith, but all your own doing, though.'

"'My own doing,' said I in bitterness, as I sat me down at the door of
the wigwam. 'My own doing!' and the words ate into my very heart's core.
Heaven knows, had any one of them who left me, but turned his head,
and looked at me then, as I sat--my head buried in my hands, my frame
trembling with strong passion---he had formed a most false estimate
of my feelings. In all likelihood, he would have regarded me as a man
sorrowing over a lost position in society--grieved at the mistaken
vanity that made him presume upon those who associated with him by grace
especial, and never, on terms of equa