For my patriotism’s sake I will not record my sensations as I took my way through the shrubbery towards the stable. Men are ever so prone to revenge their faults and their follies upon such inoffensive agencies as time and place, wind or weather, that I was quite convinced that to any other but Galway ears my exposé would have been perfectly clear and intelligible; and that in no other country under heaven would a man be expected to marry a young lady from a blunder in his grammar.
“Baby may be quite right,” thought I; “but one thing is assuredly true,—if I’ll never do for Galway, Galway will never do for me. No, hang it! I have endured enough for above two years. I have lived in banishment, away from society, supposing that, at least, if I isolated myself from the pleasures of the world I was exempt from its annoyances.” But no; in the seclusion of my remote abode troubles found their entrance as easily as elsewhere, so that I determined at once to leave home; wherefor, I knew not. If life had few charms, it had still fewer ties for me. If I was not bound by the bonds of kindred, I was untrammelled by their restraints.
The resolution once taken, I burned to put it into effect; and so impatiently did I press forward as to call forth more than one remonstrance on the part of Mike at the pace we were proceeding. As I neared home, the shrill but stirring sounds of drum and fife met me; and shortly after a crowd of country people filled the road. Supposing it some mere recruiting party, I was endeavoring to press on, when the sounds of a full military band, in the exhilarating measure of a quick-step, convinced me of my error; and as I drew to one side of the road, the advanced guard of an infantry regiment came forward. The men’s faces were flushed, their uniforms dusty and travel-stained, their knapsacks strapped firmly on, and their gait the steady tramp of the march. Saluting the subaltern, I asked if anything of consequence had occurred in the south that the troops were so suddenly under orders. The officer stared at me for a moment or two without speaking, and while a slight smile half-curled his lip, answered:—
“Apparently, sir, you seem very indifferent to military news, otherwise you can scarcely be ignorant of the cause of our route.”
“On the contrary,” said I, “I am, though a young man, an old soldier, and feel most anxious about everything connected with the service.”
“Then it is very strange, sir, you should not have heard the news. Bonaparte has returned from Elba, has arrived at Paris, been received with the most overwhelming enthusiasm, and at this moment the preparations for war are resounding from Venice to the Vistula. All our forces, disposable, are on the march for embarkation. Lord Wellington has taken the command, and already, I may say, the campaign has begun.”
The tone of enthusiasm in which the young officer spoke, the astounding intelligence itself, contrasting with the apathetic indolence of my own life, made me blush deeply, as I, muttered some miserable apology for my ignorance.
“And you are now en route?”
“For Fermoy; from which we march to Cove for embarkation. The first battalion of our regiment sailed for the West Indies a week since, but a frigate has been sent after them to bring them back; and we hope all to meet in the Netherlands before the month is over. But I must beg your pardon for saying adieu. Good-by, sir.”
“Good-by, sir; good-by,” said I, as still standing in the road, I was so overwhelmed with surprise that I could scarcely credit my senses.