Before a week elapsed, the story had gone far and near; every dinner-table in Cork had laughed at it.  As for me, I attained immortal honour for my tact and courage.  Poor Gullable readily agreed to favour the story, and gave us a dinner as the lost wager, and the Colonel was so unmercifully quizzed on the subject, and such broad allusions to his being humbugged were given in the Cork papers, that he was obliged to negociate a change of quarters with another regiment, to get out of the continual jesting, and in less than a month we marched to Limerick, to relieve, as it was reported, the 9th, ordered for foreign service, but, in reality, only to relieve Lieut.-Colonel C____, quizzed beyond endurance.

However, if the Colonel had seemed to forgive, he did not forget, for the very second week after our arrival in Limerick, I received one morning at my breakfast-table, the following brief note from our adjutant:—­

“My Dear Lorrequer—­The Colonel has received orders to despatch two companies to some remote part of the county Clare; as you have ’done the state some service,’ you are selected for the beautiful town of Kilrush, where, to use the eulogistic language of the geography books, ’there is a good harbour, and a market plentifully supplied with fish.’  I have just heard of the kind intention in store for you, and lose no time in letting you know.

     “God give you a good deliverance from the ‘garcons lances,’ as the
     Moniteur calls the Whiteboys, and believe me ever your’s, Charles
     Curzon.”

I had scarcely twice read over the adjutant’s epistle, when I received an official notification from the Colonel, directing me to proceed to Kilrush, then and there to afford all aid and assistance in suppressing illicit distillation, when called on for that purpose; and other similar duties too agreeable to recapitulate.  Alas!  Alas!  Othello’s occupation:  was indeed gone!  The next morning at sun-rise saw me on my march, with what appearance of gaiety I could muster, but in reality very much chopfallen at my banishment, and invoking sundry things upon the devoted head of the Colonel, which he would by no means consider as “blessings.”

How short-sighted are we mortals, whether enjoying all the pump and state of royalty, or marching like myself at the head of a company of his Majesty’s 4_th.

Little, indeed, did I anticipate that the Siberia to which I fancied I was condemned should turn out the happiest quarters my fate ever threw me into.  But this, including as it does, one of the most important events of my life, I reserve for another chapter.—­

“What is that place called, Sergeant?”—­“Bunratty Castle, sir,”

“Where do we breakfast?”—­“At Clare Island, sir.”

“March away, boys!”

CHAPTER II.

DETACHMENT DUTY—­THE BURTON ARMS—­CALLONBY.