And so day after day passed by and the two young people, who were always together, were as happy as people can be, with a sword hanging over their heads. Peregrine, in anticipation of a long fast, spent the greater part of his time in innocent amusement with his cousin, who, indeed yielded herself up to his frolics in the most praiseworthy manner in the world. When not thus engaged the young gentleman was employed in laying in stores for Arracan, to which place, nothing being procurable there but fish, fowl, and fevers, it is necessary to take supplies for a fortnight, such being the average time that a European may expect to live there in a condition of body likely to require any other supplies than those which the company furnishes gratis, to wit, calomel, tartar-emetic and jalup.

In the course of this valedictory fortnight, Peregrine Pultuney saw all his acquaintance, which had enlarged itself to a considerable extent, for few young gentlemen have ever possessed more essentially all the elements of popularity; and he could not but observe that they every one of them regarded him with a look of grave commiseration, as though he had been going to be hanged, or to speak more classically, to be sacrificed. One old gentleman, Colonel Barbican, the town major, asked him what crime he had committed, that they condemned him to such a vile place, and Peregrine Pultuney answered that he really did not know, but that

he had serious thoughts of committing some, that he might get a transmutation of his punishment, and be consigned to New South Wales instead -a place to which the company's convicts and sick officers are equally glad to emigrate.

But the day at last was fixed, and still Peregrine Pultuney bore up remarkably well, and Julia, if possible, a little better; nor was it till the very day had arrived and, as the young lovers were sitting together, holding one another's hands, beneath the table, Peregrine received a chit from Julian Jenks, who had promised to see him off, stating that the boat was to be at Chandpaul Ghaut, and that the tide would suit that evening at three o'clock, and Peregrine gave the letter to his cousin to read, when the young lady's strength deserted her utterly, and in spite of her struggles to restrain them, the tears gushed into her large blue eyes, and fell in heavy drops upon the marble slab, before which they were sitting.

No words were spoken-but in the silence and agony of that hour, the young cousins understood one another. They felt how dear they were, each to each; the flimsy veil of sophistry, with which they had both of them so long striven to conceal the real state of their feelings even from their own selves, was now torn away from before them, and their whole souls were bared to one another. They did not even now speak of love; but they no longer tried to play the hypocrite; and very miserable, yet very delicious, was the abandonment into which

Poor

they were now uncontrollably hurried. Plato-poor Plato! where be now thy broad wrinkled brow, thy sage aspect, thy flowing robes, thy stately walk—all undergone a metempsychosis; and in thy stead we have a little curly-headed boy in puris naturalibus, with a roguish eye and a bow-and-arrow. Such is the natural end of all the platonic affection we have ever met with in the course of our lives.

And so they parted, Mrs. Poggleton bestowing upon our hero almost as many kisses as her daughter, and getting up a sort of impromptu cry for the occasion. All the servants came out to make their salaam; and as Peregrine brushed through them, and bundled into the carriage, he wished them most heartily at the devil. Peer Khan, had gone on before him, with the one or two other attendants, that, for a consideration of double pay, had disinterestedly consented to accompany him, and so Peregrine had nothing to do but to throw himself back in the palki-carriage and gulp down his sorrows as he could.

The Seeva had been dropping down the river for the last two days, and Peregrine had hired a commodious boat to take him as far as Kedgeree, or, if necessary, as Saugor, that he might join the ship there, instead of condemning himself to two or three unnecessary days of penance on a river, of which he had not the most favourable opinion. It is true that he thereby ran a risk of losing his

passage altogether; but it would not have disturbed him much if he had.

His heavy traps and stores were already on board the Seeva, and when he reached the ghaut he found that, by the united efforts of Julian Jenks and Peer Khan, his lighter goods had been stowed away in his budgerow (passage-boat). Julian Jenks' good-natured sunny face looked more gloomy than Peregrine had ever seen it before; but he bustled about with great alacrity, gave orders in every direction, and managed to find a multitude of little jobs for himself, all conducive to Peregrine's comfort, on purpose, as was in reality the casc to prevent himself from giving way to the depression of spirits, which the near departure of his friend had occasioned.

But at last every thing was made ready for a start, and those two old friends shook hands upon the deck of the budgerow. "God bless you," they both said, at the same moment, and as neither of them was anxious to prolong the leave-taking, Julian Jenks hurried down the plank that was placed over the side of the boat, and stepped on shore, whilst Peregrine Pultuney passed his hand just once across his eyes, gave the word "tarno” (pull) to the rowers, and in a minute was in the middle of the stream.

It was past five o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun was sinking rapidly on the opposite side of the river. Peregrine stood on the deck with his arms folded and his back against the door of the cabin,

and his boat, under the combined advantages of stream, tide, and fresh rowers, shot rapidly along through the avenues of shipping which crowded the river, in the vicinity of his starting-place. Working clear of these, they passed under the banks of the "course," now deserted and desolate as it could be, for Calcutta was not yet on the stir, and Peregrine turned with mournful eyes and a still more mournful heart, to take his last look at Chowringhee. He saw the white houses all radiant with the golden sun that was going down opposite to them, and though he could not see the house in which his treasure was garnered, he could see the turning of the road that led to it. But even this was soon hidden from the sight of the gazer by the ramparts of Port William, beneath which they now rapidly passed. Peregrine just took one look at the saluting battery, where he had so often blazed away in honour of those magnificent old women, called big-wigs; and then riveted his gaze intently on the top of the Ochterloney Monument, which peered over the heads of all the other buildings, as Ochterloney did over all the other generals who were employed with him in Nepaul. This was to Pererine the last link which bound him to his dear Chowringhee, and when that was broken, as it was in a little time, he turned away his face, gulped down a tear or two, and desired Peer Khan to give him a glass of wine.

As Mrs. Poggleton had given her khansamah