. Before
I could express my sincere regret for the accident, the blow was returned
with double force, and the next moment we were at it harder than the
others. After five minutes' sharp work, we both stopped for breath, and
incontinently burst out a-laughing. There was Tom, with a nose as large as
three, a huge cheek on one side, and the whole head swinging round like a
harlequin's; while I, with one eye closed, and the other like a half-shut
cockle-shell, looked scarcely less rueful. We had not much time for mirth,
for at the same instant a sharp, full voice called out close beside us--

"To your quarters, sirs. I put you both under arrest, from which you are
not to be released until the sentence of a court-martial decide if conduct
such as this becomes officers and gentlemen.'

"I looked round, and saw the old fellow in the queue.

"'Wolfe Tone, by all that's unlucky!' said I, with an attempt at a smile.

"'The rector of Tyrrell's Pass,' cried out Tom, with a snuffle; 'the worst
preacher in Ireland--eh, Fred?'

"We had not much time for further commentaries upon our friend, for he at
once opened his frock coat, and displayed to our horrified gaze the uniform
of a general officer.

"'Yes, sir, General Johnson, if you will allow me to present him to your
acquaintance; and now, guard, turn out.'

"In a few minutes more the orders were issued, and poor Tom and myself
found ourselves fast confined to our quarters, with a sentinel at the door,
and the pleasant prospect that, in the space of about ten days, we should
be broke, and dismissed the service; which verdict, as the general order
would say, the commander of the forces has been graciously pleased to
approve.

"However, when morning came the old general, who was really a trump,
inquired a little further into the matter, saw it was partly accidental,
and after a severe reprimand, and a caution about Loughrea whiskey after
the sixth tumbler, released us from arrest, and forgave the whole affair."

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE VOYAGE CONTINUED.

Ugh, what a miserable thing is a voyage! Here we are now eight days at sea,
the eternal sameness of all around growing every hour less supportable.
Sea and sky are beautiful things when seen from the dark woods and waving
meadows on shore; but their picturesque effect is sadly marred from want
of contrast. Besides that, the "_toujours_ pork," with crystals of salt as
long as your wife's fingers; the potatoes that seemed