"Mr. Percy," exclaimed the good old creature, holding out both her hands, and grasping me with a fervour that proved the welcome came from her heart. "I am so happy to see you; I often talk of you, and read of you in the papers; oh dear, I am so happy!" and she burst into a flood of tears. After thanking me for my visit, her memory seemed to be as fresh as it was in earlier days, for she continued "Poor Lord H- he was killed at Quatre Bras; and Horace Beaufort, I saw him the year after he left Donnington. And you-oh I am so happy to see you. What a wild little fellow you were! what pranks you did play! Do you remember the trouble you got into about the hacks? I've got the very cane that big boy bought to chastise you with-I told him it was a shame to strike so little a boy, for you were very tiny and weak then I would not part with that cane if I were starving. here am I, not what I was, but happy-in good health, too, thank Heaven. I go to the old church every Sunday-you don't forget Miss Wilmot--"

Well

The clock now warned me that it was time to take leave of my old friend; I shook her cordially by the hand, and in a few minutes was seated in the railway carriage on my return to London.

I have digressed to give my readers a little insight to Newbury as it is in 1849, and must now retrace my steps to that period when I left it to join the army in Spain.

The coach was at the door of the Pelican as I returned from taking leave of my friends; and after an agreeable journey we drove up to the White Horse Cellar. A hackney coach soon conveyed me to the old family town mansion, where I found my uncle ready to receive me, prepared with a carte blanche to procure me whatever was requisite for foreign service. "I am sorry," said this kind-hearted relative, "that you have not time to visit your parents in Ireland. The ship sails in ten days, so we shall not have too much time to spare. Marsland dines

here to day, and will put you in the way of getting your horses and fit out."

The first week of my stay in London was devoted to horse-dealers, camp equipage and military accoutrement makers, saddlers, tailors, &c.; but during that period I still found time to think of Mary Wilmot: I often fancied I caught a glimpse of her in some passing carriage, and was as often disappointed.

You must attend the Commander in Chief's levée to-morrow," said my uncle ; "and I will present you to the Prince Regent on Wednesday."

"I shall be delighted," I responded; highly pleased at the idea of appearing in uniform for the first time.

At eleven o'clock upon the following morning I found myself at the Horse Guards, in a large room full of military-looking men, all anxious to put forth their respective claims for active service. Upon looking over the list, the very first name that attracted my attention was that of Colonel Stafford, and upon turning round I found myself immediately facing him. He politely accosted me, reminding me of the day we had met by the covert's side, and as Mary's assurance had completely driven every feeling of jealousy from my mind, I was delighted to have so favourable an opportunity of ascertaining the movements of her family. "You will be happy to hear that our friend, Dr. Wilmot, has been

appointed chaplain to the Duke of York," said the colonel. go to the levée to-morrow you will probably see him."

I was all anxiety to carry on the conversation, when, unluckily, my uncle's name and my own were called out, and we were ushered into the presence of the Commander in Chief. I had scarcely time to recover my scattered senses, before the good-humoured Duke addressed me in the most affable manner, complimenting me upon the zealous anxiety I had evinced to join the army abroad.

Upon leaving his Royal Highness's presence, I again sought Colonel Stafford, and was about to put a leading question, which he seemed to anticipate, for he at once informed me that Mary Wilmot was still at Brighton, but that she was expected in town the following day, to attend the Prince Regent's ball at Carlton House, the appointment her father had received having entitled her to this distinction. "There are two difficulties in the way," continued my former rival; "Miss Wilmot has been rather unwell lately, and the Doctor will not permit her to go under any chaperonage except that of her aunt, Lady Milsom."

Before I had time to make any further inquiry my uncle approached, and reminded me of an appointment I had made with Stultz to try on my uniforms.

The ball referred to was to take place on the following Thursday, the day previous to the one appointed for my departure from London; and anxious once more to see, and truth compels me to admit, to be seen by my charmer, I urgently requested my uncle to get me an invitation to it. "I am to have the honour of meeting the Prince Regent at dinner to day, at Hertford House, and I will speak to Blomfield on the subject.

With this friendly assurance I passed the rest of the day in hopeful anticipations; and my anxiety was removed after the levee on the following morning, by a card being placed in my hands from the Lord Chamberlain, inviting me to the wished-for fete.

To those who are about to quit their native land, to part with the friends of their childhood, to quit the scenes familiar from their youth, and to leave behind ties of a tender nature, there is nothing more depressing or painful than the thought that in a few brief hours every moment will increase the distance between them and the objects of their affection. It was under this feeling that I began to dress for the ball upon the last evening I was to pass in England.

Colonel Marsland, who was still suffering from the effect of his wounds, but who was too brave a soldier to remain at home when his services were required abroad, had left London early, intending to stay the night with some friends at Salisbury, where I was to join him the following day, and proceed together to Plymouth. Anxious, in Mary's absence, to avoid the direct road through Newbury, I had with some little manoeuvring induced my companion to take the Salisbury line, and his parting injunction to me was, " punctuality to my appointment.

To resume. Ten o'clock struck, my toilet was completed, and I entered my uncle's carriage to convey us to the most splendid entertainment of that or any other season. After making my bow to the "observed of all observers," the Princely Guelph, who received me most courteously, and who gave a smile of satisfaction, as he in the most artistical manner noted my admirably cut uniform and well put on appoint

ments, I took my station near the door, so as to watch the entrance of every guest. Midnight had arrived, and Mary Wilmot had not made her appearance. "Can illness be the cause?" thought I, and the reflection was almost maddening. Supper was now announced, and as I was about to take leave of a scene so brilliant, and yet to me so miserable, Colonel Stafford approached me— "You are surely not going away so early," said he, as I, broken down in spirit, had faintly wished him good night. "You must at least drink one bumper of the Regent's champagne punch to the health of my intended."

"Intended!" I echoed.

66

I see," he continued, "Miss Wilmot has kept my secret.'

"Miss Wilmot!" I repeated. Then seeing the agonizing suspense I was in, the colonel hastened to inform me of his approaching nuptials with a young lady in Berkshire, a friend of the Wilmots; this accounted then for the rumour which had reached me, of Mary's marriage, and which had cost me so severe a pang of jealousy.

"Poor Miss Wilmot is sadly disappointed," he proceeded; "she came up from Brighton yesterday, expressly for the ball, when a letter this morning, announcing the sudden illness of her aunt Rachel, compelled her to return home."

"How unfortunate!" I exclaimed, and a train of thoughts rushed through my brain-had I kept to the original intention of proceeding by the direct road through Newbury I might have again seen my charmerall my schemes and designs had ended in the deepest vexation and most bitter disappointment. For a few moments I turned over in my mind whether it would be possible to take Newbury on my way to Salisbury; the expense of a chaise and four would have been no obstacle to me in the state of infatuation I was; one feeling alone preponderated-my promise to proceed by the five o'clock morning coach to Salisbury, to meet my gallant friend Col. Marsland, who had so kindly yielded to my solicitations in changing the route. Having now determined to keep my engagement, and having in some degree recovered my self-possession, I was easily led by my new friend and former rival into the supper room, which was laid out in a manner worthy of the modern Sardanapalus.

"Miss Wilmot," said Stafford, "talked to my intended in the highest terms of your kindness."

For sake's sake I pledged a bumper to the affiancée, which was speedily followed by one to Mary; and after a most interesting conversation about the inmates of the rectory, I shook the colonel by the hand and took my leave.

As I left the courtyard of Carlton House, for the first time the sentries carried arms to me, and I had scarcely returned the compliment when I came in contact with a young man of about six-and-twenty years of age, whose face was not unknown to me, and who was gazing at the departure of the guests by the brilliant gas-lights then lately introduced.

"What! my young friend of Jacksonian memory!" he exclaimed, as he extended his hand; "you don't forget the set-to with my corporeal pastor in Bond-street.' For a moment I reflected, and then remembered I was in the presence of Byron.

After a friendly greeting, in which I informed him that I was about to join the army in the south of France, he proceeded in a most joyous

humour-"What! just come from the ball? How is the Sybarite? I fear the waltz, not mine I vow-may I be sunburnt if I wrote a line of it. Thou ghost of Queensbury!' and that unfortunate rhapsody of the Devil's drive

"I have a state coach at Carlton House,

A chariot in Seymour Place;

But they're lent to two friends, who make me amends

By driving my favourite pace

has entirely ruined me at court. But you must come to my lodgings in Benedictine-street; I have not dined for two days, and a glass of Bucellas will set me up. After some conversation, it was arranged that I should go home to doff my military gear, and then proceed to the poet's residence, Bennet-street, St. James's.

To describe the four hours I passed in Byron's society upon this occasion requires an abler plume than mine; suffice it to say he was in the wildest flow of spirits. The "Bride of Abydos" and "The Corsair," had appeared within a few weeks, and had produced upon the mind of the public a sensation well calculated to elate a being less exciteable than the noble bard. There was no subject upon which Byron did not descant-the senate, in which he had made his third and last appearance in the character of an orator-the stage, where he expatiated upon the brilliant powers of Cooke, Kemble, Siddons, and Kean, who had lately created a furore in Richard the Third-the prize ring, where he introduced anecdotes of Jackson, Tom Cribb, and the fistic communitypoetry-" no more rhymes for me," said he, with one of his most winning smiles; "I'll mountebank it no longer; better eat fire at Greenwich fair than be pointed at as one of the scribbling crew: my jaded Pegasus is fairly broken down, and must be turned out for life. From poetry he turned to literature, uttering some pungent tirade against the De Stael and the "blues"-an eulogy upon Sheridan and Rogers-a biting sarcasm against some of the envenomed critics of that day, or a playful remark upon some Cynthia of the passing hour.

The hours had passed so rapidly away, that I was not aware it was time to take my leave until the sonorous tone of the watchman reminded me that it was half-past four o'clock, and a cloudy morning. In a quarter of an hour my trusty servant called for me in a hackney coach, and taking leave of Byron I lost no time in proceeding to the White Horse Cellar. Here the well appointed team was waiting, and mounting the box I was soon on my road to Salisbury. Reaching that ancient city at the appointed hour I found Colonel Marsland's carriage ready at the door of the inn. In less than two minutes I was seated by his side, and away we bowled at the rate of ten miles an hour toward Devizes. With good horses, a light carriage, willing post-boys, and liberal payments, we arrived at Taunton, where beds were ordered, before midnight. At six o'clock the following morning we were in the carriage, and as we drove through the town a portion of a large posting bill attracted my attention; in the hasty view I took of it, the only words I could make out were" Theatre, Taunton-For the benefit of Mr. Parker and Miss Bell, the Vestris and Parasot of the day." This remnant of the former winter's performance was embellished with coloured vignettes, encircling out-lines of harlequins, columbines, sylphides, fairies, dancing girls, and hornpipe-executing sailors, and brought Celine back to my mind. The

T

conversation of my companion soon recalled me to my senses, and after a prosperous journey we reached Plymouth. Here we found the coxswain of the frigate in which we were to take our passage in waiting.

"The baggage is all on board, your honour," said he, "and the boat is in Stonehouse Pool. We now hurried to it, the sailors having previously stowed away the few things we had brought with us in the carriage.

"Nice breeze from the eastward," remarked the weather-beaten tar, as we stepped into the boat. In a short time we were alongside the frigate which was laying to in the Sound; ascending the gangway, we were most kindly received by the captain on the quarter-deck, and in a few moments the Vixen was rounding Penlee Point, at the rate of ten knots an hour.

STRAY SHOTS.

BY RAMROD.

Take-no-denial, Time, has sharpened his scythe and mown away with his usual industry. A few short months ago we were putting away the gun and taking down the fishing-rod. Now the scene is reversed: the latter is laid by, and we are looking to the priming of our muskets. To arms, to arms, is the cry; may the enemy be strong and numerous.

And numerous they are, for the present is the best season we have had for many years. All game is plentiful, the weather during the spring and summer having been most favourable both for hatching and rearing. The coveys are large and strong. There are plenty of hares. The pheasants have hatched well, and the rides are large. From the hills the accounts are most favourable, indeed brilliant, though the season opened with most unpropitious weather, drenching rain having prevailed over a wide extent of country. Notwithstanding which, the Mackintosh's gamekeeper (Donald Macbian) killed sixty brace of grouse and two hares on the Moors around Weyhall, on the 13th.

S. Boulderson, Esq., and two friends, were out at Rockless Castle on the 13th, and bagged forty-four brace. R. Winsloe, Esq., killed fortyfour-and-a-half brace at Dallas. A. Macmahon, Esq., bagged, at Corrybroughmore, thirty-four brace, and D. Fulbarton, Esq., seventeen brace. All agree that the birds are strong and numerous, but very wild. So much the better, as there will be more left for another day. On the 10th, Keith Steward Mackenzie, Esq., Captain Douglas, Captain Jocelyn, Mr. Langton, Mr. Fowler of Raddery, and J. W. Ramsey, Esq., were out in the forest at Brahan, and killed nine fallow deer and roe. On the 11th, R. Ainslie brought down a capital stag.

In all places where the game has been at all preserved it is plentiful, and the accounts most cheering to the sportsman. It is to me most surprising that such an abundance of game is to be met with in some wild countries, where poaching with dog and gun, both by day and night, is continually going on; and this remark applies to fish. I am acquainted with streams which are fished in every sort of manner, but which, not