On the third day of my residence at Curryglass, arrived my friend, Mortimer, to replace me, bringing my leave from the colonel, and a most handsome letter, in which he again glanced at the prospect before me in the Callonby family, and hinted at my destination, which I had not alluded to, adding, that if I made the pretence of study in Germany the reason for my application at the Horse Guards, I should be almost certain to obtain a six months’ leave. With what spirits I ordered Stubber to pack up my portmanteau, and secure our places in the Dublin mail for that night, while I myself hurried to take leave of my kind entertainer and his guests, as well as to recommend to their favor and attention my excellent friend Mortimer, who, being a jovial fellow, not at all in love, was a happy exchange for me, who, despite Daly’s capital stories, had spent the last two days in watching the high road for my successor’s arrival. Once more then, I bade adieu to Curryglass and its hospitable owner, whose labours for “justice to Ireland” I shall long remember, and depositing myself in the bowels of his majesty’s mail, gave way to the full current of my hopes and imaginings, which at last ended in a sound and refreshing sleep, from which I only awoke as we drew up at the door of the Hibernian, in Dawson-street. Even at that early hour there was considerable bustle and activity of preparation, which I was at some loss to account for, till informed by the waiter that there were upwards of three hundred strangers in the house, it being the day of his majesty’s expected arrival on his visit to Ireland, and a very considerable section of the county Galway being at that moment, with their wives and families, installed, for the occasion, in this, their favourite hotel.