my unworthy self it was who was then
indulging in as pleasant a dream of home and holidays as ever blessed
even a schoolboy's vigils. Though my eyes were open, it was some minutes
before I could rally myself to understand where I was, and with what
object. My senses were blunted by cold, and my drenched limbs were
cramped and stiffened; for the worthy captain, to whose humanity I owed
the share of his cloak, had only joined the coach late in the day,
and during the whole morning I had been exposed to the most pitiless
downpour of rain and sleet.

"Here you are!" said the rough guard, as the coach drew up to let me
down. "No need of blowing the horn here, I suppose?"

This was said in allusion to the miserable appearance of the ruined
cabin that figured as my father's gate lodge, where some naked children
were seen standing before the door, looking with astonishment at the
coach and passengers.

"Well, good-by, my little man. I hope you 'll find the governor better.
Give him my respects; and, hark ye, if ever you come over to Athlone,
don't forget to come and see me: Captain Bubbleton,--George Frederick
Augustus Bubbleton, Forty-fifth Regiment; or, when at home, Little
Bubbleton, Herts, and Bungalow Hut, in the Carnatic^ that's the mark. So
good-by! good-by!"

I waved my hand to him in adieu, and then turned to enter the gate.

"Well, Freney," said I, to a half-dressed, wild-looking figure that
rushed out to lift the gate open,--for the hinges had been long broken,
and it was attached to the pier by some yards of strong rope,--"how is
my father?"

A gloomy nod and a discouraging sign with his open hand were the only
reply.

"Is there any hope?" said I, faintly.

"Sorrow one of me knows; I dare n't go near the house. I was sarved with
notice to quit a month ago, and they tell him I 'm gone. Oh vo, vo! what
's to become of us all!"

I threw the bag which contained my humble wardrobe on my shoulder,
and without waiting for further questioning, walked forward. Night
was falling fast, and nothing short of my intimacy with the place from
infancy could have enabled me to find my way. The avenue, from long
neglect and disuse, was completely obliterated; the fences were broken
up to burn; the young trees had mostly shared the same fate; the cattle
strayed at will through the plantations; and all bespoke utter ruin and
destruction.

If the scene around me was sad, it only the better suited my own heart.
I was returni