d plan, but not execute; Massena execute, but not
organize; Soul could do none but the last. It is no vanity makes me
declare that I combine all the qualities. You see me now 'organizing;'
in a few days you shall judge me in the field; and, later on, if my
convictions do not deceive me, in the higher sphere of directing the
great operations of an army. I place these words in your hands that they
may be on record. If M'Caskey falls, it is a great destiny cut off; but
posterity will see that he died in the full conviction of his genius. I
have drawn on you for thirty-eight, ten-and-six; and to-morrow will draw
again for seventy-four, fifteen.

"Your note has just come. I am forced to say that its tone is not that
to which, in the sphere I have moved, I have been accustomed. If I am
to regard you as my superior officer, duty cries, 'Submit.' If you be
simply a civilian, no matter how exalted, I ask explanation. The dinner
at the Dawson Arms _was_ necessary; the champagne was _not_ excessive;
none of the company were really drunk before ten o'clock; and the
destruction of the furniture was a _plaisanterie_ of a young gentleman
from Louth who was going into holy orders, and might most probably not
have another such spree in all his life again. Are you satisfied? If
not, tell me what and where any other satisfaction may meet your wishes.
You say, 'Let us meet.' I reply, 'Yes, in any way you desire.' You
have not answered my demand--it was demand, not request--to be Count
M'Caskey. I have written to Count Caffarelli on the subject, and have
thoughts of addressing the king. Don't talk to me of decorations. I
have no room for them on the breast of my coat. I am forced to say these
things to you, for I cannot persuade myself that you really know or
understand the man you correspond with. After all, it took Radetzky a
year, and Omar Pasha seventeen months, to arrive at that knowledge which
my impatience, unjustly perhaps, complains that you have not attained
to. Yet I feel we shall like each other; and were it not like
precipitancy, I'd say, believe me, dear Maitland, very faithfully your
friend,

"Miles M'Caskey."

The answer to this was very brief, and ran thus:--

"Lyle Abbey, August.

"Sir,--You will come to Coleraine, and await my orders
there,--the first of which will be to take no liberties of
any kind with your obedient servant,

"Norman Maitland.

"Major M'Caskey, 'The Dawson Arms,