with a less heavy weight on my mind than
before.

I found Captain Swift in bed with an attack of jaundice, and in a state
of high excitement.

"How did you know I wanted you?" he said when I presented myself.

"I did not, sir," said I. "Have you any orders for me?"

"A despatch has come from the Admiralty," said he, "cancelling all leave
of absence. The _Diana_ being still under repair, I am appointed to the
_Zebra_, now off Dublin, and ordered to sail on Saturday to join the
fleet watching the Dutch off the Texel."

I hope he put down to zeal for the service the whole of the satisfaction
with which I received this announcement. No work just then could fit in
better with my humour than watching the Dutchmen.

"Be ready to start by to-night's coach," said he. "I shall follow to-
morrow, with or without my doctor's leave. Here is a letter I wish you
to deliver at the Admiralty. Then report yourself on board. I hear
she's an ill-found craft, and no one knows what sort of crew they will
rake up for us. I wish the _Diana_ hands were within call," he added to
himself.

Next day I was in Dublin, and duly left my captain's letter at the
Admiralty. I was instructed to report myself on board the _Zebra_
before sundown, as there was much work to be done getting crew and
stores in order ready for our immediate departure.

Having an hour or two at my disposal, I took a walk through the streets.
Dublin, to all outward appearance, was in an orderly and peaceable
state, and gave few signs of being, what it actually was at that time,
the hotbed of a dangerous rebellion. It was only when I dived into some
of the lower streets near the river, and saw the mysterious and ominous
groups which hung about at the corners, and noticed the menacing looks
with which they greeted any chance passer-by who was known to be a
servant of the government, that I realised that I walked, as it were, on
the edge of a volcano. How soon I was to experience for myself the
terrors of that coming explosion the reader will hear.

I had got beyond the streets and into the Park, attracted thither by
strains of martial music, when, in a retired path, I encountered a
gentleman dressed in a close-fitting, semi-military coat, with a green
scarf round his neck, and switching a cane to and fro as he paced
moodily along. I recognised him as Lord Edward.

He looked up as I approached and at once recognised me.

"Ah, Gallagher, what news from Donegal