“Well, Mary, I will do all I can, and that as soon as possible. To-morrow I will go down to the depôt.”
“God bless you, Jacob; and may you never have the misfortune to be in love with such a one as myself.”
Chapter Forty Four.
I am made very happy—In other respects a very melancholy chapter, which, we are sorry to inform the reader, will be followed up by one still more so.
I left Mary, and hastened home to dress for dinner. I mentioned the subject of wishing to obtain Tom’s discharge to Mr Wharncliffe, who recommended my immediately applying to the Horse Guards; and, as he was acquainted with those in office, offered to accompany me. I gladly accepted his offer; and the next morning he called for me in his carriage, and we went there. Mr Wharncliffe sent up his card to one of the secretaries, and we were immediately ushered up, when I stated my wishes. The reply was:— “If you had time to procure a substitute it would be easily arranged; but the regiment is so weak, and the aversion to the West Indies so prevalent after this last very sickly season, that I doubt if His Royal Highness would permit any man to purchase his discharge. However, we will see. The Duke is one of the kindest-hearted of men, and I will lay the case before him. But let us see if he is still at the depôt; I rather think not.” The secretary rang the bell.
“The detachment of the 47th Fusiliers from the depôt—has it marched? And when does it embark?”
The clerk went out, and in a few minutes returned with some a papers in his hand. “It marched the day before yesterday, and was to embark this morning, and sail as soon as the wind was fair.”
My heart sank at this intelligence.