“‘My Lord, this is an action brought by Timothy Higgin,’ etc., and down I go, no more to be remembered and thought of than if I had never existed. How different it would be if I were the leader! Zounds, how I would worry the witnesses, browbeat the evidence, cajole the jury, and soften the judges! If the Lord were, in His mercy, to remove old Mills and Kinshella before Tuesday, who knows but my fortune might be made? This supposition once started, set me speculating upon all the possible chances that might cut off two king’s counsel in three days, and left me fairly convinced that my own elevation was certain, were they only removed from my path. “For two whole days the thought never left my mind; and on the evening of the second day, I sat moodily over my pint of port, in the Clonbrock Arms, with my friend Timothy Casey, Captain in the North Cork Militia, for my companion. “‘Dick,’ said Tim, ‘take off your wine, man. When does this confounded trial come on?’ “‘To-morrow,’ said I, with a deep groan. “‘Well, well, and if it does, what matter?’ he said; ‘you’ll do well enough, never be afraid.’ “‘Alas!’ said I, ‘you don’t understand the cause of my depression.’ I here entered upon an account of my sorrows, which lasted for above an hour, and only concluded just as a tremendous noise in the street without announced an arrival. For several minutes such was the excitement in the house, such running hither and thither, such confusion, and such hubbub, that we could not make out who had arrived. “At last a door opened quite near us, and we saw the waiter assisting a very portly-looking gentleman off with his great-coat, assuring him the while that if he would only walk into the coffee-room for ten minutes, the fire in his apartment should be got ready. The stranger accordingly entered and seated himself at the fireplace, having never noticed that Casey and myself, the only persons there, were in the room. “‘I say, Phil, who is he?’ inquired Casey of the waiter. “‘Counsellor Mills, Captain,’ said the waiter, and left the room. “‘That’s your friend,’ said Casey. “‘I see,’ said I; ‘and I wish with all my heart he was at home with his pretty wife, in Leeson Street.’ “‘Is she good-looking?’ inquired Tim. “‘Devil a better,’ said I; ‘and he’s as jealous as old Nick.’