I can see now, what I would not and could not perceive in those early days, that this Miss Jowler—­on whom I had lavished my first and warmest love, whom I had endowed with all perfection and purity—­was no better than a little impudent flirt, who played with my feelings, because during the monotony of a sea-voyage she had no other toy to play with; and who deserted others for me, and me for others, just as her whim or her interest might guide her.  She had not been three weeks at head-quarters when half the regiment was in love with her.  Each and all of the candidates had some favor to boast of, or some encouraging hopes on which to build.  It was the scene of the “Samuel Snob” over again, only heightened in interest by a number of duels.  The following list will give the reader a notion of some of them:—­

1.  Cornet Gahagan . .  Ensign Hicks, of the Sappers and Miners.  Hicks received a ball in his jaw, and was half choked by a quantity of carroty whisker forced down his throat with the ball.

2.  Capt.  Macgillicuddy, B.N.I., . .  Cornet Gahagan.  I was run through the body, but the sword passed between the ribs, and injured me very slightly.

3.  Capt.  Macgillicuddy, B.N.I., . .  Mr. Mulligatawny, B.C.S., Deputy-Assistant Vice Sub-Controller of the Boggleywollah Indigo grounds, Ramgolly branch.

Macgillicuddy should have stuck to sword’s-play, and he might have come off in his second duel as well as in his first; as it was, the civilian placed a ball and a part of Mac’s gold repeater in his stomach.  A remarkable circumstance attended this shot, an account of which I sent home to the “Philosophical Transactions:”  the surgeon had extracted the ball, and was going off, thinking that all was well, when the gold repeater struck thirteen in poor Macgillicuddy’s abdomen.  I suppose that the works must have been disarranged in some way by the bullet, for the repeater was one of Barraud’s, never known to fail before, and the circumstance occurred at seven o’clock.*

* So admirable are the performances of these watches, which will stand in any climate, that I repeatedly heard poor Macgillicuddy relate the following fact.  The hours, as it is known, count in Italy from one to twenty-four:  the day Mac landed at Naples his repeater rung the Italian hours, from one to twenty-four; as soon as he crossed the Alps it only sounded as usual.—­G.  O’G.  G.

I could continue, almost ad infinitum, an account of the wars which this Helen occasioned, but the above three specimens will, I should think, satisfy the peaceful reader.  I delight not in scenes of blood, heaven knows, but I was compelled in the course of a few weeks, and for the sake of this one woman, to fight nine duels myself, and I know that four times as many more took place concerning her.