“Well, Charley, I’ve been put in harness rather sooner than I expected. Here’s old Douglas has been sitting up all night writing despatches; and I must hasten on to headquarters without a moment’s delay. There’s work before us, that’s certain; but when, where, and how, of that I know nothing. You may expect the route every moment; the French are still advancing. Meanwhile I have a couple of commissions for you to execute. First, here’s a packet for Hammersley; you are sure to meet him with the regiment in a day or two. I have some scruples about asking you this; but, confound it! you’re too sensible a fellow to care--” Here he hesitated; and as I colored to the eyes, for some minutes he seemed uncertain how to proceed. At length, recovering himself, he went on: “Now for the other. This is a most loving epistle from a poor devil of a midshipman, written last night by a tallow candle, in the cock-pit, containing vows of eternal adoration and a lock of hair. I promised faithfully to deliver it myself; for the ‘Thunderer’ sails for Gibraltar next tide, and he cannot go ashore for an instant. However, as Sir Arthur’s billet may be of more importance than the reefer’s, I must intrust its safe keeping to your hands. Now, then, don’t look so devilish sleepy, but seem to understand what I am saying. This is the address: ‘La Senhora Inez da Silviero, Rua Nuova, opposite the barber’s.’ You’ll not neglect it. So now, my dear boy, till our next meeting, _adios!_” “Stop! For Heaven’s sake, not so fast, I pray! Where’s the street?” “The Rua Nuova. Remember Figaro, my boy. _Cinque perruche_.” “But what am I to do?” “To do! What a question! Anything; everything. Be a good diplomate. Speak of the torturing agony of the lover, for which I can vouch. The boy is only fifteen. Swear that he is to return in a month, first lieutenant of the ‘Thunder Bomb,’ with intentions that even Madame Dalrymple would approve.” “What nonsense,” said I, blushing to the eyes. “And if that suffice not, I know of but one resource.” “Which is?” “Make love to her yourself. Ay, even so. Don’t look so confoundedly vinegar; the girl, I hear, is a devilish pretty one, the house pleasant, and I sincerely wish I could exchange duties with you, leaving you to make your bows to his Excellency the C. O. F., and myself free to make mine to La Senhora. And now, push along, old red cap.” So saying, he made a significant cut of his whip at the Portuguese guide, and in another moment was out of sight. My first thought was one of regret at Power’s departure. For some time past we had been inseparable companions; and notwithstanding the reckless and wild gayety of his conduct, I had ever found him ready to assist me in every difficulty, and that with an address and dexterity a more calculating adviser might not have possessed. I was now utterly alone; for though Monsoon and the adjutant were still in Lisbon, as was also Sparks, I never could make intimates of them.