Secretly he aspired to some day make his way to the Forbidden City of Tibet, where the foot of a white man has never yet trodden, and whose gorgeous wonders yet remain sealed books to the world—a city which the bold traveler Harry Savage Landor recently endeavored to reach but was forced to abandon the task as impossible.

At present of course these things were hung up in abeyance, since his beloved country was at war with Spain, and called upon her patriotic sons to overwhelm the enemy, both in the field and under the guise of diplomacy.

The pursuit of his business had taken him far out from the central part of the city and the river Liffey.

From Donnybrook he had crossed to the region of Rathmines, where in an interview with one whose word carried great weight among the Fenian brotherhood, he learned that the mission of the Spanish schemers had failed.

This was a matter of great importance to those faithful statesmen at Washington who labored to prevent any combination of European Powers against Young America—it meant that the great coalition would pull through and that poor Spain must take her drubbing.

He had mounted to the upper deck of a tramcar and was on the way back to the city, surveying with considerable interest the names of the many villas, places and terraces, for every householder apparently desired to mark his residence by some appropriate designation.

From this state of beatitude, superinduced by the clear consciousness of a day's work well done and the soothing effect of a good pipe, Roderic was without the least warning precipitated into a condition of tremendous excitement.

He had just noted the old name on a rough stone gate post "Lucknow Bungalow," and was wondering if some gallant retired officer who had seen exciting days with Havelock, or later with gallant Roberts, might live in cozy retirement here, surrounded by objects brought from the far distant realm of Her Majesty the Empress of India, when some magnetism seemed to draw his gaze toward the romantic house set back a little from the road.