great; stories of drollery unlocked before, poured from him unceasingly, and what with his high spirits to excite them, and the reaction inevitable after a hard day’s severe march, the party soon lost the little reason that usually sufficed to guide them, and became as pleasantly tipsy as can well be conceived.  However, all good things must have an end, and so had the wine-skin.  Tom had placed it affectionately under his arm like a bag-pipe and failed, with even a most energetic squeeze, to extract a drop; there was no nothing for it but to go to rest, and indeed it seemed the most prudent thing for the party.

The bed became accordingly a subject of grave deliberation; for as it could only hold two, and the party were five, there seemed some difficulty in submitting their chances to lot, which all agreed was the fairest way.  While this was under discussion, one of the party had approached the contested prize, and, taking up the curtains, proceeded to jump in—­when, what was his astonishment to discover that it was already occupied.  The exclamation of surprise he gave forth soon brought the others to his side; and to their horror, drunk as they were, they found that the body before them was that of a dead man, arrayed in all the ghastly pomp of a corpse.  A little nearer inspection showed that he had been a priest, probably the Padre of the village; on his head he had a small velvet skull cap, embroidered with a cross, and his body was swathed in a vestment, such as priests usually wear at the mass; in his hand he held a large wax taper, which appeared to have burned only half down, and probably been extinguished by the current of air on opening the door.  After the first brief shock which this sudden apparition had caused, the party recovered as much of their senses as the wine had left them, and proceeded to discuss what was to be done under the circumstances; for not one of them ever contemplated giving up a bed to a dead priest, while five living men slept on the ground.  After much altercation, O’Flaherty, who had hitherto listened without speaking, interrupted the contending parties, saying, “stop, lads, I have it.”

“Come,” said one of them, “let us hear Tom’s proposal.”

“Oh,” said he, with difficulty steadying himself while he spoke, “we’ll put him to bed with old Ridgeway, the quarter-master!”

The roar of loud laughter that followed Tom’s device was renewed again and again, till not a man could speak from absolute fatigue.  There was not a dissentient voice.  Old Ridgeway was hated in the corps, and a better way of disposing of the priest and paying off the quarter-master could not be thought of.