pause, when there was a most unusual hush in the cuddy, that one of the Miss Gowanspecs, who sat opposite to Peregrine and next to the long cornet, remarked, with that felicity which is so peculiar to young ladies lately from school, that she was very sorry indeed Mr. Pultuney was not going to act Hamlet.

Now it so happened that this Miss Gowanspec had conceived a considerable liking to Peregrine, and a naversion, no less potent to the cornet, who, unfortunately, had taken it into his head to be somewhat assiduous in his attentions to the young lady with the rosy cheeks and the unexceptionable ankles. He had seen, for envy is sharp-sighted, the preference she had always exhibited for our hero, with feelings of intense mortification, and this last public demonstration of a sentiment so peculiarly offensive to the personal vanity of Cornet Drawlincourt, filled the cup of bitter waters in his heart full to the overflowing, and robbed him entirely of the most valuable possession ever given to man-self-control.

His

Peregrine received the compliment as every man ought to receive a compliment paid at the expense of another, in silence and without exultation. feelings, had any body analyzed them, would have been found in the highest degree honourable to humanity, and as to his outward behaviour, it was the least offensive that could possibly be manifestedhe bowed to the lady and helped himself to wine.

But Miss Gowanspec was not endowed with one

half of the delicacy of feeling that characterized Peregrine Pultuney; she was not contented with the silence and the bow, but was resolved to elicit an explanation from that young gentleman, all unwilling to afford it as he was. Her assertion had failed utterly, so this time she put a question direct. Why do not you act Hamlet, Mr. Pultuney? I'm sure you would do it best."

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Peregrine was about to answer that he did not take the part, because it had been assigned to Mr. Drawlincourt, who was much more competent to play it than himself, when that gentleman having previously turned up one of the reddest of red faces, took the words out of our hero's mouth and replied -"Because, Miss Gowanspec, we did not deem fit to give the leading character to that boy."

Peregrine Pultuney heard every word of this, but still he did not lose his temper; on the contrary, he was rather gratified by the reflection that the worst the long cornet could throw in his teeth was the crime of being still in his nonage-a reflection, which reflects the highest credit on our hero, for most young people at his age would infinitely rather be called a scoundrel than be called "a boy."

Peregrine said nothing, he merely looked at the cornet, and smiled. There is nothing in the whole world more provoking than a smile from the man you have taken the trouble to insult; at least we suppose that this is the case, for the long cornet looked fiercer and fiercer, and we know not what he

might not have said, if there had not been a move among the ladies, a great scraping of chairs, a general rising of the gentlemen, and a partial evacuation of the cuddy. When the men resumed their seats, Peregrine Pultuney poured out another glass of claret and passed the bottle across to Drawlincourt.

Drawlincourt did not help himself, but he looked ferociously at Peregrine Pultuney, sleeked his moustaches, muttered something to himself that sounded like "Impertinent puppy," and then looked down in contemplation of his patent japan leather boots. He had seen Miss Gowanspec smile on Pultuney, as she glided out of the cabin, and perpetrate something very much like a wink. This had infuriated the cornet more than anything, and he was so lost in the vortex of his vindictive emotions that he knew not either what to say or to do.

There was a pause therefore, for some space of -time, at the expiration of which the long cornet awoke from his revengeful reverie, and remarked to Peregrine Pultuney, with an air of extreme coxcombry and impertinence. "So, sir, you think, do you, that you ought to play Hamlet yourself?"

"You know very well that I do not, sir," returned Peregrine with extreme coolness.

"I do, do I?" said the long cornet, balancing a fork on the middle finger of his right hand; “but, perhaps, sir, you will allow me to observe that I know nothing of the kind."

"I pity your ignorance then," said Peregrine.

"Ignorance!" exclaimed the long cornet, "God bless my soul, what impertinence will come next?" "That depends on you," remarked Peregrine, still preserving his serenity of manner.

"On me! what do you mean, sir? I tell you, sir," and here he was interrupted by the captain asking him if he would take any more wine, and a suggestion attendant upon his rejection of the offer, to adjourn immediately to the deck—a proposal which evinced a considerable degree of sound sense on the part of the commander of the Hastings.

His good intentions, however, were frustrated; he rose, and so did Colonel Coteloll, and so did Mr. Factor of the civil service; and the consequence was, that the long cornet, taking the advantage of these worthies having their backs turned, filled a glass of claret to the brim, and discharged it full into Peregrine's face.

This extraordinary behaviour on the part of the cornet, elicited no correspondent action from the hero of this story. All the junior passengers of the ship were looking on, and saw the insult that had been put upon Peregrine; but still that young gentleman did nothing more than take his handkerchief quietly from his pocket, and wipe away the vinous fluid that was streaming down his face, and discolouring his shirt. The long cornet rose from his seat, and strutted out upon deck; the young writers and the assistant-surgeons did the same, and said to one another as they went, "Well, I didn't expect

this from Pultuney." Even Julian Jenks looked somewhat contemptuously at our hero, but his friendship got the better of him, and he walked up to Peregrine, and spoke to him a few words, with the import of which we are not acquainted. After this they went below together, continued there about half an hour, and afterwards re-appeared upon deck. All the passengers there, with the exception of the captain, Colonel Coteloll, and Mr. Factor, looked askance upon Peregrine Pultuney, but that young gentleman, instead of being crest-fallen was in unusually high spirits. He took no notice of their cold looks, but laughed, and talked, and lent a hand towards the rigging up of the marine theatre, just as though nothing had happened to disturb his equanimity of mind. His associates thought him a coward; but they were, indeed, grievously mistaken; he was only biding his time.