l of the Spaniards, nor
once dreamed, even for adventure, of taking a part in their heroic
cause.
CHAPTER VIII
First Acquaintance with Byron--Embark together--The Voyage
It was at Gibraltar that I first fell in with Lord Byron. I had
arrived there in the packet from England, in indifferent health, on
my way to Sicily. I had then no intention of travelling. I only
went a trip, intending to return home after spending a few weeks in
Malta, Sicily, and Sardinia; having, before my departure, entered
into the Society of Lincoln's Inn, with the design of studying the
law.
At this time, my friend, the late Colonel Wright, of the artillery,
was secretary to the Governor; and during the short stay of the
packet at the Rock, he invited me to the hospitalities of his house,
and among other civilities gave me admission to the garrison library.
The day, I well remember, was exceedingly sultry. The air was
sickly; and if the wind was not a sirocco, it was a withering
levanter--oppressive to the functions of life, and to an invalid
denying all exercise. Instead of rambling over the fortifications, I
was, in consequence, constrained to spend the hottest part of the day
in the library; and, while sitting there, a young man came in and
seated himself opposite to me at the table where I was reading.
Something in his appearance attracted my attention. His dress
indicated a Londoner of some fashion, partly by its neatness and
simplicity, with just so much of a peculiarity of style as served to
show, that although he belonged to the order of metropolitan beaux,
he was not altogether a common one.
I thought his face not unknown to me; I began to conjecture where I
could have seen him; and, after an unobserved scrutiny, to speculate
both as to his character and vocation. His physiognomy was
prepossessing and intelligent, but ever and anon his brows lowered
and gathered; a habit, as I then thought, with a degree of
affectation in it, probably first assumed for picturesque effect and
energetic expression; but which I afterwards discovered was
undoubtedly the occasional scowl of some unpleasant reminiscence: it
was certainly disagreeable--forbidding--but still the general cast of
his features was impressed with elegance and character.
At dinner, a large party assembled at Colonel Wright's; among others
the Countess of Westmorland, with Tom Sheridan and his beautiful
wife; and it happened that Sheridan, in relating
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