d to find the morning after, that all men returned off furlough were
to fall in for recruit drill. However, as I was the youngest of any of
them, I had no reason to complain. I thought, "I'll just show that I
don't require it;" so I pulled myself together, and was dismissed
recruit drill next day.

Soon after this I gained what it had been my hope from the first to
get--that is, promotion,--and was made lance-corporal. I wished that
Marshall could have got the same, for Kathleen's sake, but he was not so
fortunate. The difference was this,--I had a taste for soldiering, born
with me perhaps: he had not.

I was soon after sent off on detachment duty to Spike Island, in the
Cove of Cork or Queenstown Harbour. Our duty was to guard a prison full
of convicts, not the pleasantest in the world, though I well knew that
there wasn't a man within those walls who did not richly deserve his
lot. I only wish that evil-disposed men knew better than they do what
it is to be shut up in a place of the sort; they would take some pains
to gain an honest livelihood rather than run the risk of being sent
there.

The harbour is a very beautiful one, surrounded almost by high hills,
many of them well wooded, and so is the whole way up to Cork. While I
was there a new batch of convicts came in; among them I saw a face I
felt sure I knew. It was that of Shane Mcdermot. He cast a look of
surprise at me, as much as to say, "Why, I thought that I had shot you."
I could not exchange words with him; but the more I watched his
countenance, the more certain I was that it was him. I concluded that
he had committed a crime in another part of the country, and had been
convicted, and sent on here. There he was, and there I hoped, for the
sake of my friends, he would remain.

I was not sorry when we were ordered back to head-quarters. Soon
afterwards the regiment went to Dublin, where we were stationed,
scattered about in different barracks, and doing garrison duty for two
years or more. During that time I again went on furlough. If I had
been proud of appearing at home before, I was prouder still now to
return as a non-commissioned officer, and I felt pretty sure that as I
had gained one step I should gain another. I was heartily welcomed, but
somehow or other that second going home was not equal to the first,
three years before. Many changes had taken place among my friends: some
had gone away, some were dead, some married. Still I