Little, indeed, did I anticipate that the Siberia to which I fancied I was condemned should turn out the happiest quarters my fate ever threw me into. But this, including as it does, one of the most important events of my life, I reserve for another chapter.—
"What is that place called, Sergeant?"—"Bunratty Castle, sir,"
"Where do we breakfast?"—"At Clare Island, sir."
"March away, boys!"