"There they are going-the brave boys!" uttered my dying comrade, whose strength was ebbing fast. For the first time they march without me. Farewell, my gallant comrades! I shall see you no more. You will remember your old captain, Cadell," he added in a faint but earnest tone. "Do you think you could raise me to yonder

window ?"

With his servant's assistance I bore him to the window, and from thence he gazed at the troops then on their march.

He watched them

without speaking till the last gleam of their bayonets disappeared, and then, as if exhausted, fell back in my arms. I strove to raise him-it was of no avail. The old soldier was dead!

DEATH OF THE CORPORAL.

We had a man in our regiment named Tank. He was of herculean powers. No man in the regiment could cope with him; but he was an excellent, kind-hearted fellow, and never took any advantage of his bodily superiority. He was indeed a universal favourite. Tank had performed some extraordinary feats in the Peninsula, and had particularly distinguished himself in the battle of the Pyrenées. Had the gallant fellow lived to the close of the war, he would have retired on a snug pension for wounds and service. But it was destined to be otherwise. After escaping the chances of years of hard service, he met his fate where thousands of veterans found their graves-on the bloody field of Waterloo.

Poor Tank belonged to No. 4 company. He was a corporal, and was left hand man to Ensign Mountsteven, who carried the king's colour. On the 16th the regiment was deployed in line on the high road, and Tank was showing the young soldier how to display the colours of the Slashers, and animating the raw recruits about him who were in action for the first time, when he was struck in the face by a musket ball. He instantly fell and died immediately. Thus ended the career of this splendid old campaigner, who was truly an honour to his country.

Ensign Mountsteven was severely wounded on the 18th. Sergeant Watts, belonging to the ensign's company, on the morning of that slaughtering day showed him a fowl which he had in reserve. "Sir," said he, "if you have no objection, I intend this for our dinner when the fight is done!"

By the time the fight was done, however, poor Mountsteven had little appetite for the sergeant's fowl. The colour staff was broken twice in his hands, and at last he was hit himself. Sergeant Watts was obliged to seek another guest.

FRANKING LETTERS FROM ABROAD.-On my return from Corfu in 1827, I passed through Bodmin, and called on Mountsteven's mother. I found the old lady in high spirits, from the following interesting cause. She had two fine young sons who had lately left her,—one a soldier to the East, the other a sailor to the West. Much about the same time they had written letters to her, and, putting them into a bottle, sealed and launched them into the ocean. One was cast ashore on the west coast of France, and the other on the west coast of England; both were picked up by well-disposed people, and the letters put into the post, and they reached her within a day of each other.

PARTING WITH OLD FRIENDS.

In 1816 a new regulation pack came out for the whole army. The 28th were very sorry to part with their old packs of brown calf-skin. They lasted a long time, and the poor soldier, when lying out, had always a warm pillow to place his head upon. The grenadiers, known for many years as Charlie Cadell's babes, always picked out a soft one for their captain. The attachment of these brave fellows to their officers was quite delightful to experience. When anything was picked up foraging, they had always an ample share, and when the meat was served out, the best was invariably saved for the officers.

I was most gratified to find they still retained their fine old feeling, although on a most unexpected occasion. In 1834 I was living quite retired in the Edgeware Road, and, walking leisurely along one day, I met a regiment on the march. It proved to be my old regiment on their ronte to Chatham. I was soon recognized by some of the old ones, when the regiment at once halted, and gave their old captain three cheers.

When our regiment was quartered in the Ionian Islands in 1822, the Greek war of independence was raging with the greatest vio lence. We were daily and hourly shocked by the account of coldblooded butcheries on the one side, and sanguinary reprisals on the other. At length an appalling report reached us early in the summer of 1822, that the Greeks had captured the Turkish fortress of Navarino, and made prisoners of the garrison and the entire population, amounting to four hundred individuals. In the centre of the celebrated bay of Navarino is a barren island, about a mile and a half in circumference. On this barren island, according to the report, did the Greek conquerors, with a refinement of cruelty only known to barbarians,―on this desolate place did they land men and unoffending women and children, without food, water, or shelter of any kind, and leave them on that burning rock to perish by thirst and famine!

The Redpole, gun-brig, commanded by Captain Anderson, was then lying at Corfu. She was immediately ordered down to inquire into the truth of this most heart-rending statement. I was an old friend of captain Anderson, and he kindly asked me to accompany him. We were not long in reaching the bay of Navarino; and as our beautiful little craft glided along shore, we fired a gnn, and hoisted British colours. The gig was then lowered, and I accompanied the captain on shore to demand an explanation of the governor. We were conducted with the utmost respect to the best habitation in the ruined and desolate place, and shortly after a young man of most gentlemanlike appearance and manner introduced himself to us as the governor of the fortress. He was unaccompanied, and wore a blue British uniform of the most unexceptionable cut and quality. He addressed us very politely, through the medium of an interpreter, and begged to know in what he could have the honour of serving us. Captain Anderson speedily made known to him the object of our visit, and asked him if the report were true. The Greek shook his head. "It is indeed but too true," he replied. " I have been here but a short time, and, thank God, had nothing to do with that shocking affair."

"It was a barbarous act indeed," said Anderson.

"And how can we avoid these atrocities ?" said the Greek officer. Remember what our poor people have suffered from the Turks, who have always been the first to commence these barbarities. They remember their own wives and families wantonly butchered-their brave com. panions lingering for days in the horrors of impalement. These are things, sir, not to be forgotten; and when their barbarous masters are in their power, the wild passions of men will predominate, and revenge is considered a virtue. God forbid it should be thought that I advocate such atrocities; I merely speak of them as the effect of the unbridled passions of human nature." There was an air of great feeling and sincerity about the Greek as he spoke, which prepossessed us much in his favour, and truly we had but little reply to make to his remarks. "But," he added, "you had better go to the island, and there you will see too good reason to carry back the report as true. two months since this lamentable occurrence.'

It is now

The governor politely accompanied us over his dilapidated fortress, to which nothing had been done since it had been stormed and taken, except plastering over some of the more decayed portions with mud, to make an outside appearance of strength. I think I could have caried the place with my grenadiers in ten minutes.

We returned on board the brig, and then manned our boats for the island. I went with the captain in his gig; and as many of the of ficers as could be spared, followed in the first cutter. We arrived

first, and I scrambled up the rocks to make way into the island, when in my haste I nearly fell over a heap of human bodies! They were huddled together upon a small platform of rock. I instantly called to Anderson: poor fellow! the ghastly sight was too much for the kind-hearted sailor; he returned to his boat. By this time the officers arrived, and we began systematically to explore the island for the purpose of framing a report apon it. It was with difficulty we could make our way, for the hemlock plant grew to the height of five and six feet, and was very strong. But at every step the sight was appalling. There the poor creatures lay, singly, and in groups; whole families, clasped in each other's arms, had died together. Stretched upon the burning rock, they were dried to mum. mies, and presented a hideous and ghastly spectacle. It was evident that the Greeks had not plundered their victims, for many of the attenuated corpses were still attired in their costly robes, making death look still more hideous!

We found many bodies among the rocks with knives near them, with which they had evidently endeavoured to scoop out the shell-fish from the fissures, in the vain hope of prolonging their lives. Others again we discovered with their mouths still applied to the crevices in the rock to suck out what moisture might have collected from the dews of heaven! Having made our distressing survey, and counted the bodies, whose number nearly agreed with the account we had received, we left this island of death, and returned shuddering to our boats.

THE DOUBLE-BEDDED ROOM.

A

"WELL, after all," I exclaimed, "there are few things so comfortable as snug quarters in a good inn ;" and, so, saying, I drew up my chair a foot or so nearer the fire, and manifested the exuberance of my satisfaction and the soundness of the poker by reducing a superincumbent mass of the best Walls-end to minute fragments. ride of some eighty miles outside the mail in a biting November day had thrown me into that state of delicious languor, which disposes one to regard everything in the best light, and I had abandoned myself to the enjoyment of the pleasurable, so far as it was to be obtained in the best parlour of the head inn in the provincial town of Nibblington. A neat repast had feasted me "light and choice," and a second tumbler of brandy and water, "warm with," stood exhaling its fragrance at my elbow. The fire was in fine spirits, and went laughingly and crack. ling merrily up the chimney; it took part in the satisfaction it afforded -we were sworn friends.

"What a glorious thing it is," I muttered to myself, as I rested my heels upon the fender, and stretched myself backwards into my chair," what a glorious thing it is this taking one's case in one's inn! It hath a relish almost too fine for earth-it smacks of Elysium! You have cheated fate for once, given business the go-by, and left the anxieties that dog your footsteps daily, in the lurch. Here you are yourself alone,'---none to thwart, to fret, to frown upon you,—with a few sovereigns in your pocket, you are yourself a king. How respectful is mine host!-he is your chancellor, and holds you tenderly in his keeping, as royal consciences are kept. The waiters, how obsequious!-like angels, ever eager-eyed,'-these be your ministers, watchful to do your will all the more that the prospect of the gratillity to be secured thereby is ever vividly present to their imagination. The chambermaids, your maids of honour and honoured as maids,--lighting you to dreams of love and bliss, like second Heros, with warming-pan and bed-room candlestick of brass. Your bed-but, ecod! I never thought of that,”—and I started up and tugged the bell in considerable trepidation.

My call was answered by the appearance of one of those smirking animals, that go about inns with towels over their left arms.

"Have you secured a bed for me?"

"Yezzir." I resolved the dog should have an additional halfcrown for his attention. "Sorry, sir, could not let you have a room to yourself, sir."

"Eh, what!" I exclaimed, and my contemplated generosity sunk at

once below zero.

"Single bedrooms all engaged, sir."

"The devil!"

"Yezzir,-full of lawyers, sir. Assizes this week-crowded-not a corner to cram a cat in."

"And where am I to be stowed away, pray?"

"Excellent apartment, sir-third story behind-two capital beds, well-aired. Other gin'l'm'n very quiet, sir.

"Who or what is he?"

"Don' know, sir. Came here a week ago, sir-breakfasts at ten minutes to eight precisely-cup of coffee, sir, and half a roll-goes out, and comes home at eleven every night. Mute as a mouse-tried myself to draw him out-wouldn't work, sir. Strange man, sirneither speaks nor eats-how he lives, can't tell-what he does, ditto-where he goes, a mystery as dark, as dark as Omnibus, sir."

"Hum! Queer fish, seemingly."

"Yezzir, singular man, sir—indeed I may say, a very singular man, sir. Seems in rather low spirits, sir. Any more brandy and water, sir?"

I ordered a fresh supply of this terrestrial nectar, and flung myself into my chair with the air of a man who feels himself a victim to untoward destiny.

That this should have happened to me, of all men in the world!— to me, who never could tolerate bedfellows in my life!-slept with locked door and window fast, and not a soul within half a dozen rooms of me-me, whose chief motive for remaining single-my Marion was certainly a very, very charming creature! I do half incline to believe, was the horror of having my old habit of loneliness invaded! Possibly the wretch snores. Oh, horrible! most horrible! Well, if I do strangle him, no enlightened jury can bring in a worse verdict against me than that of "justifiable homicide." Looks melancholy, too? Oh, your melancholy men have a trick of speaking in their sleep; and I shall be kept shuddering all night at his incoherent ohs! and ahs! It is positively too bad! And again I dashed the poker into the bowels of the fire, and stirred it fiercely. The exercise only threw my brain into a livelier state of activity, and my fancies assumed a darker hue. To be shut up in an out-o'-the way room in a confounded old rambling wilderness of an inn, with a fellow whom nobody knows anything about!—to have your valise and breeches pockets ransacked, their "silver lining turned out upon the night," while you are wooing the caresses of the drowsy god,— or, possibly, like the Irish member, to wake in the morning and find your throat cut! A cold line seemed to be drawn across my wea. sand at the thought, and I groaned inwardly. Seizing my brandy and water, I whipped it off at a gulp; but it had lost its flavour,— was cold, vapid, ineffectual stuff, and left no relish on the palate. I sank into a reverie, a dull and quasi-collapse state of misery, on starting from which I found that the fire had sunk down to a few cinders and the ghost of a flame, which looked up for a moment, as if to reproach me of my neglect, and quietly went out. Conjuring up a smile at my fears-a very hectic sort of an affair, indeed,-I called for a light, and following the pilotage of the "cham'maid," was heralded along a succession of passages, and up a labyrinth of staircases, until I reached the room that had been selected as my dormitory.

Its dimensions were something of the smallest. Two beds, placed directly opposite each other, engrossed three-fourths of the apartment. They were divided by an alley of some four feet in breadth, at the end of which, in the window recess, stood a table with the usual appurtenances of mirror and caraffes, and the window itself looked out upon Cimmerian darkness, and the devil knows what. The other furnishings consisted of certain cane chairs, whose appearance