ilver watch?"

He chose a good strong one, with a chain to match, and handed over the
gold, Mr Balance giving him twenty-five pounds besides.

"I say! This is too much!" cried Kavanagh. "It only cost forty pounds
when new."

"And is worth thirty-five now," said the watchmaker. "I shall make a
good profit out of the bargain, I assure you."

Kavanagh pocketed his new watch, held out his hand, which the old man
grasped, across the counter, and walked away murmuring, "Good old chap!"

It was still early in the afternoon, so to complete all his business at
once he walked back to the chambers, took his sword, which he had not
parted with, packed it up in brown paper, and directed it to Tom
Strachan. Then he wrote this letter:--

"Dear Tom,--When I joined the Militia I hoped that it was a stepping-
stone to the Line, so I would not have a tailor's sword, but indulged
in the expensive luxury of a good one. Accept it, old fellow, with
all sorts of congratulations and good wishes. `The property of a
gentleman, having no further use for it,' eh? I must poke my way to
fame with a bayonet, if I am to get there, instead of carving it with
a sword. Thank your people for their kindness to me.--Yours,
etcetera."

"By-the-by," he soliloquised, when he had stuck and directed this
epistle, "I have not sent in the resignation of my commission yet." And
he took half a sheet of foolscap and wrote out the formal notice to the
Adjutant of the 4th Blankshire at once. Then he said, "There is nothing
else, I think, but to post the letters and send the sword off by rail;
and then go in for new experiences."

It was a good bit of a new experience for him to carry a parcel through
the streets of London, and book it himself, but in his present costume
he did not mind doing it one bit. Indeed, he felt quite light-hearted;
knowing the worst was much better than the anxiety of the past few
weeks. And then there was another matter. Having been used to a good
allowance, and possessing naturally somewhat fastidious tastes, he had
not been very economical, though, as he hated the idea of debt, and
would rather have blacked shoes for a livelihood than have imposed on
his generous godfather and guardian, he had not fallen into actually
extravagant habits.

When Mr Burke died, and the will was not forthcoming, and he was thus
placed face to face with actual impending poverty, Kavanagh had the
sense, the manliness, and the