ent of any subject with a view to the confusion and conquest
of an opponent. Both young men abhorred the latter and liked the
former. Hence much of their harmony and friendship.

"Will you come with me up town?" said Armstrong to Miles one day, as he
was about to quit the barrack-room. "I'm going to see if there's any
news of my Emmy."

"I did not know you expected her," said Miles. "Come along, I'm ready."

"I don't expect her yet," returned Armstrong, as they left the barracks;
"I only look for a letter, because it was on Wednesday that I wrote
telling her of my going to Egypt, and she can scarce have had time to
get ready to come down, poor girl! In fact I am going to engage a room
for her. By the way, I heard this morning that there's to be another
draft for Egypt, so you'll have a chance to go."

"I'm rejoiced to hear it," returned Miles; "for, to say the truth, I had
been growing envious of your good fortune in being ordered on active
service."

"Hooroo, Armstrong, where away now?" cried an unmistakably Irish voice,
as a smart little soldier crossed the street to them, and was introduced
to Miles as Corporal Flynn, belonging to another company in his own
regiment.

"My blissin' on ye, Miles. John, is it?"

"Yes, John," replied our hero, much amused at the free-and-easy address
of the little corporal.

"Well, John Miles," he said, "I don't know whether ye'll laugh or cry
whin I tell ye that you'll likely be warned this evenin' for the draft
that's goin' to Aigypt."

"I certainly won't cry," returned Miles, with a laugh. Yet the news
brought a sudden feeling into his breast which was strongly allied to
the opposite of laughter, for the thought of parting from father and
mother without bidding them farewell fell upon his spirit with crushing
weight; but, like too many men who know they are about to do wrong,
Miles hardened his heart with the delusive argument that, having fairly
taken the step, it was impossible for him now to retrace it. He knew--
at least he thought--that there was still the possibility of being
bought off, and that his stern father would only be too glad to help
him. He also knew that at least he had time to write and let them know
his circumstances, so that they might run down to Portsmouth and bid him
good-bye; but he had taken the bit in his teeth, and now he resolved to
abide the consequences.

Turning from his companions while they conversed, he looked into a
shop-windo