"Impertinent!-Now, I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Drawlincourt, if you don't make off with the greatest possible despatch, I shall begin to think that you are impertinent, and treat you accordingly— so look out."

Julian Jenks went right about face and returned to his perambulations and his weed. The long cornet, however, was drunkenly resolute, and he confronted Julian at the next turn.

"What the deyvil do you mean, I say again?"

"That I recommend you-seriously recommend you to take off and go to bed-at our own mess I would not willingly be rude to you-would not offend you, if I could possibly avoid it; but really this is too much," said Julian.

"T-t-t-too much, I think it is-d-n it sir," returned the cornet, who would have known his man a little better if he had been less drunk-" you d-d-don't think to come over me in this manner now, as you two did-yes, you two, when that d-d deyvil Pultuney was with you, and I was lying sick in bed. He-he-the scoundrel! I served him out-by G-d, sir, I served him out."

"I wish he were present to hear you," said Jenks. "So do I-that I might laugh at him-ha! ha! You don't know then that he went up to the Sandheads, and found his deary married to another."

"What's that?" asked Jenks, eagerly.

"He went up to the Sand-heads --upon my soul he did—and found his deary married to another."

Say that again," cried Julian Jenks, and at the same time he seized Drawlincourt by the collar of his coat, for the cornet was in plain clothes; " say that again, sir-and answer me one question-did you put, or cause to be put in the papers, a lying announcement of Pultuney's marriage with Miss Sweetenham?"

The suddenness of this question, which he quite understood, attending as it did immediately upon his being seized by the collar, seemed to bring the cornet back to his senses again, and the natural man— the trembling coward-was once more visible. The expression of his face underwent a sudden change, his knees shook beneath him, and he was silent.

"Did you write it," exclaimed Julian Jenks, "did you write it or cause it to be written?" "I?-no-no-I-that is"

66

Enough," cried Jenks, "I want no further answer; so, lie there you scoundrel and be d-d;" and giving the cornet a violent twist by the collar of his coat, and at the same time applying his foot with some violence in the rear, he sent this illustrious specimen of a dragoon officer staggering down the steps of the verandah, and beheld, to his infinite satisfaction, the rascal trip at the last one, and go sprawling into the dust.

Having done this, Jenks threw away his cheroot, re-entered the mess-room, of which the outer doors had been closed, for it was a cold night, as though nothing had happened and, walking up to Captain Thornhill, whispered into his ear-" Will you be so

good as to step this way? I think Mr. Drawlincourt is in your regiment, but whether or not, I wish that you would look to him. His friend, Griffin, of our corps, is such a boy," continued Julian, as the two proceeded together into the ve randah," that I cannot trust this matter to him. See, there is Drawlincourt, brushing the dust off his clothes; I was obliged to kick him down these stairs he insulted me and my dearest friend, and, sorry as I was to do it, before our own mess, I could not help it, indeed. Do not say any thing about it within, or there will be a disturbance, and I shall be put under arrest. Drawlincourt is, I think, not very sober-perhaps, you had better take him home, or, for the present, to young Griffin's, and I shall be awake and ready to hear from him, whenever it may be necessary to send."

"This is a bad business," said Captain Thornhill "An unavoidable one," returned Julian Jenks; "I shall go home; but first of all I will send Griffin to you, and he will show you the way to his bungalow."

Julian returned again to the mess-room, sent Mr. Griffin to join the party outside, and reseated himself at the mess-table. He heard a buggy drive off, then he drank another glass of wine, joined in the conversation, that was going on, as though nothing had happened, and in about a quarter of an hour's time, again quitted his seat, left the mess-house, and walked to his bungalow.

He ordered candles to be lighted in the principal room, then placed a blotting-book and an inkstand on the table, and sent for his khitmudgar (personal servant) to bring him some brandy-and-water. "It is possible," he thought, "that Pultuney may return to-night-and if he does, I need ask no one else to help me in this little matter. I hope he will come. I want some one to talk to me and a friend-yes, I will not go to sleep if I can help it-I think he will come. His intended married too. Can this be a lie of Drawlincourt's?-scarcely. I wish he would come, that he might tell me from his own lips all about it the long scoundrel!-and he has caused it all. Well, I should like to damage his countenance amazingly-knock his teeth down his throatspoil his beauty-I shall be quite contented with that."

Thus cogitating, Mr. Jenks lighted a cheroot, mixed a tumbler of brandy-and-water, threw himself back in his chair, and cast his legs over the corner of the table. He was a cool, brave fellow, and fortunately was too full of just indignation to think for a moment about himself. He was going out to shoot Drawlincourt, and it had not yet occurred to him that he might possibly be shot himself. It is a very fine thing for a man, in his situation, to be so engrossed with a thought of the active part of the business, that he has no room for a consideration of the passive share in the concern, which is doomed, perhaps, to fall to his portion. If you very much want to shoot your adversary, the chances are that

you will never be much afraid of being shot your self.

And so it was with Mr. Jenks. If the long cor net had injured him, it would have been a smal matter in the estimation of this young gentlemanbut the villanous plot against his friend, which he had thus discovered, was too much even for his philosophy, and in spite of his inherent good nature, he certainly did earnestly desire to punish him for the sorry trick that the long scoundrel had played. with such meanness, upon Peregrine Pultuney.

The cantonment ghurries* had just struck ten. when Julian Jenks heard the sound of carriagewheels in the compound, and going out into the verandah to see who might be his visiter (he expected to meet Captain Thornhill) found himself, in a minute, standing before our hero, who had just flung himself out of a buggy.

"Jenks, my good fellow," were Peregrine's first words; can you tell me where I can find Draw

66

lincourt?"

"Yes," said Mr. Jenks, somewhat astonished, "I can-but."

"No buts, if you love me," interrupted Peregrine; "he is not at the mess-I have been there already-and I must see him at once."

"Nay-nay-you must not indeed; not till you have heard me-come in and set down."

"Oh! no- no - no - I am in a hurry — you

Plates of bell metal, on which the hours are struck by the sentries.