“Burnt!” replied O’Callaghan, “’faith it is—an’ well burnt too. It’s all in a hape o’ ruins. An’ afther all, the Exciseman didn’t get the still.”
“No, by J——s! they didn’t nor never will,” exclaimed the wounded prisoner with exultation.
“But what made you burn the house?” said Serjeant Dobson to the prisoner.
“I’ll say no more,” replied he; “it’s done now—an’ I’m not sorry; except for the brave fellow that lost his life.”
At this moment, the Sentry at the guard-house door challenged; and in a few seconds Lieutenant Morris with a magistrate of the town, and the gaoler, arrived. Handcuffs were placed upon the prisoner who was not wounded, and the Corporal with two men, were directed to take charge of the delinquents, and march them to gaol; which they did, accompanied by the Lieutenant, the magistrate, and the gaoler.
HOLY ORDERS.
“O! Father, must I then confess?”
They say that “a frank confession is good for the soul,” but who ever said it was good for a military body? Even the confessors themselves, enthusiastic as they may be about the salvation of souls, through the means of contrition and atonement, show but little disposition to trouble the army, or expect that the army will ever trouble them by kneeling at their confessionals. However, the military in France are subject to the civil laws; and, as a holy order has been issued from the Court of Charles X., imposing the necessity of confession as a preparatory step to the celebration of marriage, the soldier who wishes to enter into the bonds of Hymen, must, like his civil brethren, confess his naughty doings to his pastor. Without a certificate of having duly done this, he must be contented with single cursedness.
A Colonel who fought for France in the days of her triumph—a pupil of that revolutionary school which gave its best moral lesson in its downfall—presented himself at the house of the Priest who held the sacerdotal command of the town in which the militaire was quartered, and informed him that he was desirous of entering into the married state next day; adding, that he wished to give his reverence the preference in the performance of the ceremony. Monsieur le Prêtre bowed, and thanked the Colonel for the honour conferred upon him, and the hour was appointed for the marriage. The Colonel, not aware that anything more was officially required of him, than to present himself with his intended cara esposa, before the altar on the following day, was about to take his leave, when the Priest informed him that he must confess before he could be eligible to the dignity of wearing the matrimonial collar.—Only fancy a tall, bony, mustachioed Colonel of French Infantry, about forty-five years of age—a sort of half devil, half republican,—with ear-rings and bald temples—a ruddy brown face, that spoke of many a hot sun and strong vintage—with an eye like Mars, and an air like Robin Hood:—only fancy such a man called upon by a Priest, to kneel down and confess his sins in an audible voice, that he might be qualified to enter into the holy state of marriage;—and then fancy his gaze of astonishment at the holy man’s summons! For such a rough personage as this was the Colonel;—a fellow who, during his military life, had little to do with priests, except to lay them under contribution, and knew no more about the merits of confession than he did about the Evidences of Christianity, or the Decalogue itself.