y cannot
ascertain, your steps must demand all your caution."

"I hope, sir," said Fred with some vanity in the tone, "that I have
never made you blush for my awkwardness, and I don't intend to do so
now. I promise for the success of my negociation; but I must not say a
word more of how I mean to obtain it."

Sir Marmaduke was very far from feeling satisfied with himself for
having even so far encouraged a plan, that his own blind confidence
in his son's cleverness had for a moment entrapped him into; he would
gladly have withdrawn his consent, but old experience taught him
that Fred was never completely convinced he was right, until he met
opposition to his opinion. So he parted with him for the night, hoping
that sleep might suggest a wiser counsel and a clearer head; and
that being left free to act, he might possibly feel a doubt as to the
correctness of his own judgment.

As for Fred, no sooner was he alone than he began to regret the pledge
his precipitancy had carried him into. What were the nature of the
advances he was to make--how to open the negociation, in a quarter the
habits and prejudices of which he was utterly ignorant of, he had not
the most vague conception; and, as he sought his chamber, he had half
persuaded himself to the conviction, that the safest, and the most
honest course, after all, would be to avow in the morning that he had
overstated his diplomatic abilities, and fairly abandon a task, to which
he saw himself inadequate. These were his last sleeping thoughts; for
his waking resolves, we must enter upon another chapter.

CHAPTER XIX. A DIPLOMATIST DEFEATED

If Frederick Travers went to sleep at night with very considerable
doubts, as to the practicability of his plans regarding the O'Donoghues,
his waking thoughts were very far from re-assuring him, and he heartily
wished he had never engaged in the enterprize. Now, however, his honour
was in a manner pledged; he had spoken so confidently of success, there
was nothing for it but to go forward, and endeavour, as as well he
might, to redeem his promise.

At the time we speak of, military men never for a moment divested
themselves of the emblems of their career; the uniform and the sword,
the plumed hat and the high boot, formed a costume not to be worn at
certain periods and laid aside at others, but was their daily dress,
varying merely in the degree of full or half dress, as the occasion
warranted. There was no affectation of th