LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1295, 14 May 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A REGIMENTAL VALENTINE ; Or how Patrick O’Shaughnassy was HELPED INTO MATRIMONY. By the Author of “ A Regimental Martyr.” [“ London Society.”] (Continued.) ‘What the d—’ began he, then checked himself, and turning the paper over, read it again ; changing color the while from scarlet to white, then from white to scarlet, as though he could not make up his mind which was most becoming to his complexion, finally compromising the matter by remain ing the colour of a mangel-wurzel. He picked up the envelope and examined it; then he took up the letter again carefully. ‘ Well ’ he said at last, surveying the eager faces crowding round him, ‘ you chaps have got yourselves into a fine shindy this time, and no mistake about it,’ ‘ What is it ? what does she say! ’ they cried, as with one voice. ‘ Upon my —’ he began. ‘Here, give it to me,’ said Gurney, who began to suspect Pat was right, and they had got into a ‘shindy,’ as he said—‘give it to me ; ’ at the same time snatching it out of his hands, and reading it quickly. It was not a very long epistle, but its con tents elicited an oath, not loud, but deep, from between the reader’s closed teeth. ‘ 1 told you so, ’ said Pat, reassuringly, ‘ What is it ? cried the others. ‘ She has not, surely, accepted ? ’ Mr O’Shaughuassy nodded. ‘ 0, well, it’s all right, then,’ said Gordon, in a relieved tone. ‘ Pat’s got all ho wants, and she need never know anything at all about it; a very good thing for Pat, I say.’ ‘ Perhaps Pat says the contrary,’ interposed that young gentleman. ‘l’ve not asked Miss Lifford to marry, and, what is more, lam not going to do so. I doa’t intend to marry a woman simply to get you fellows out of a scrape. No, no; Pat O’Shaughuassy may be a thundering fool, but he’s not quite such an idiot as to do that.’ ‘Why, Pat,’ exclaimed Hilton, ‘we all thought you were “dead nuts,” on Miss Lifford.’ ‘ Did you, really ? Well, all I have to say is, that you’ve got yourselves into a pretty shindy this time, and won’t there be old Harry to pay when the chief comes home. By Jove ! I wouldn t stand in your shoes for a good sum. Perhaps, after this, you will be leaving your neighbor’s private affairs alone. ’ 1 Dash it all,’ snapped Gurney, ‘ why can’t you marry Miss Lifford, and have done with it ? You’ve been dangling after her, morning, noon, and night, for weeks.’ ‘ To tell you the honest truth, my dear fellows,’ said Mr O’Shaugnassy, with slow deliberation of utterance, *to tell you the honest truth—l am already engaged to be married! ’ Chapieb 111. If the hero of this little history had suddenly emptied a pail of iced watter over the gronp of officers assembled in the mass-room of the Milchester Barracks, a more perceptible shiver could not have run through them. Not a word was spoken The brave men who would have cheered their troops on against an enemy, or faced grim death without a sign of flinching, looked in one another’s faces blankly, each asking a tacit question—- ‘ What are we to do ? ’ receiving for answer —‘ I’m dashed if I know.’ In their midst stood Patrick O’Shaughnassy, taller’, by some inches, than any of them; his arms carelessly crossed upon his broad chest; his good-humoured face wearing a pleasant smile, and his gray eyes—real Irish eyes th-y were-shining with miith. At last the smile deepened into a laugh, which displayed strong white filbert-shaped teeth. ‘Well, as I said before, gentlemen, you’ve got yourselves into a pretty shindy,’ *No one can compliment you on the pleasing variety of your remarks,’ sneered Captain Gurney; that’s the fourth time you’ve made that brilliant observation.’ ‘So it is. Well, Gurney, you’ve a very good opportunity of showing your wondeiful cleverness,’ said Pat, who could afford to be civil, ‘ and letting the world see if you are as clever at getting out of scrapes yourself as you are of getting other fellows iu. Wi en you’ve got the thing settled, I’d change (he “into” “out,” and say it as many times agdu, I’m going now. I shouldn’t like my presence to be any hindrance to general conversation, Good-bye.’ With a laugh, Mr G’Shaughnassy went noisily out of the room, and ran quickly up the echoing corridor to his own domain. Safely there he immediately loeked the do or, and flinging himself on his bed, indulged in the luxury of a hearty laugh, rolling over aud over—burying his face in the pillows to smother the sound of his hilaiicy. At last he calmed down a little, aud, smoothing out Miss Lifford’s letter, which he had recaptured from Captain Gurney, read it again with care. I mentioned before that it was not lengthy ; indeed, it ran thus : ‘ You have made me very happy—veiy happy indeed. Of course I will bo your valentine to-morrow. Whose should Ibe if not yours ? Always your own ‘ Alvs.’ Mr Patrick O’Shaughnassy kissed the crumpled paper rapturously. * My darling, my sweet Alys !’ ha murmured blissfully. Teen his more natural mode of expressing his satisfaction came iu the words, ‘ By Jove, what a lucky chap I am 1’ Could Mr O’Shaughnassy be alluding to the young lady about whom there had been so much discussion below ? His next movement was to change his uniform for plain clothes, and after locking Miss Lifford’s note in a secure place, to light a cigar, and proceed to search amongst the chaos on the table for a pair of gloves. Whilst he was thus employed, some one tried to open the door. ‘ Come iu!’ roared Pat, ‘ Come in you fool, can’t you ? Oh, the door’s locked is it ? Well, old m?,n,’ as Jack Hilton came in, ‘ what’s up, now ?’ * Ton my word,’ began Jack dolefully, * how the deuce we are to get out of this business I don’t know; I’ve a good mind to send my papers in at once. ’ ‘ About the best thing you cau do,’ said Pat consolingly, and still continuing his search j ‘ and as you’re going to be married it won’t make much odds to you. 1 * Ry George 1 but Gurney is in a funk.’ ‘And so should I be.’ said Pat, ‘if I were in his shoes —a confounded fool I It’s to be hoped this will cure him. Well, now,’ having found his gloves, * I must be off; tata !’ * Stop, stop !’ cried Hilton ; * where are you going? To the Colonel’s ?’ ‘ Now, my good fellow, do you expect me to go and patch up your damages just by being asked ?’ ‘0 Lord I I didn’t know; you 'J-yays do go there.’ ‘ If it’s any satisfaction to you to know it, I’m going into Milchester.’ ‘To meet Mi-s I afford ?’ said Hilton eager y like a drowning man ready to cstoh at the w- »kest straw. ‘ I am not going to meet Miss Lifford,’ said Pit, loosing back at the door, and closing it just iu time to escape a missile, in the shape of a boot which Mr Hilton flung at hi- head. Ah, it is only in a university or a banick that one man can go nto another man’s room aud fling his own hoots at his head without provoking offence ! Truly the‘o is something of Arcadia in both places 1 When Patrick o'Shaughna«sy to’d Jack Hilto he was going into Milche-oer. >’e was speaking the sober truth ; f r into that most dreary of nrea y t wu* he i (tally did go. At the Hr t stand, however, he took a cab, and pul'ing up the blind windows, ordered the ma i to drive to Colonel lif ford's. The chief’s house was in the centre of avi lage about a mi ; ea id a half from Milches e>-, *n the road which led past the barricks. Having satisfied himself by a peep from tk<? window at tho baokthat non© oi

the officers were in sight, he slipped out, telling the driver to come back in an boor, and answer no questions. He found Alys Lifford sitting alone in the drawing-room, and, as she sprang up with pretty eagerness to meet him, took her bodily into his arms. ‘My darling ! Mr best and dearest 1* F;t some time their conversation was not rational, or indeed was it fluent, Then Patrick, feeling that ( life is short and time is fleeting,’ set about broaching to Miss Lifford the subject which was just then occupying the attention of the gentlemen in the Milchester Barracks. ‘My darling,’ he began, with a cough, ‘you got a note from me yesterday ?’ Miss Lifford raised her head from his shoulder and regarded him with blank amazement. ‘Of course I did, and answered it. You didn’t write to me «ga n did you ?’ ‘I didn’t write at all,’ blurted out Pat. ‘Hid not write at all? What do yon mean ? Are you mad, Mr O’Shaughnassy ?’ ‘ Well, it was “ ; them.” I knew nothing at all about it till I got your letter this morning. * Them ?’ repeated Alys slowly, unconsciously using Pat’s ungrammatical form of speech, ‘Did they write the letter I got yesterday 7’ ‘ Yes, confound them !’ * And did they see my answer ?’ ‘ I could not help it, 1 said Pat humbly. ‘What was one against so many? You won’t be angry with me, will you, my darling ?’ * Captain Gurney and Mr Hilton,’ said a servant, opening the door, Alys Lifford came forward as the two men walked into the room, ‘ I never, in all my life, heard of such an uugentlemanly, disgraceful action, I could not hive believed it possib'e. Unmanly, cowardly !’ she cried passionately, though the sound of tears was in her voice. * I do not know which of you is the worst or the most to be blamed; but as surely as I am Alys Lifford, I will never speak to iiny of you again.’ She vanished into an inner room, and the three men stood as if turned to stone. All the color faded out of Patrick O’Shaughnassy’s ruddy face, leaving it as white as death. He crossed the room to where his superior was stan ling, and gripped his shoulders with trembling fingers. ‘As I live, I’ll pay you out for this fine trick, ’ he. said, in a low vo'ce, shaking with suppressed passion. ‘You shall live to repent it, confound you !’ Then he stalked out out of the room without another word, ‘ I shall send in my papers at once,’ said Jack Hilton, in the tone of a martyr. ‘As for you, Gurney, you had better shoot yourself.’ ‘ Uraph 1’ said Captain Gurney doubtfully. (To ho continued )