"No, no, Johnny," said the Earl, who could not help relishing the dreadful jest--"he has been knocked about enough for one night. You may sleep in another room; but I put my veto on moving him again." "Well, who will come to Piershill?" said Frank; "I am not going to ride alone--Arranmore, come along!" "Faith, not I--I never feared Musgrave, alive or dead! Besides, I am married; I have my wife to defend." "Ah, that's well enough; but we poor devils who have no wives must look out for company. Come, will no one accompany me?" "I think I had better weigh anchor and be off," said Captain Wilson; "I have had far too much to do with it to moor myself here and be snapped up by the sharks!--only for God's sake don't put me aboard that vicious craft young Nimrod again." "Good night, then--and don't dream about ghosts, Florence," said Frank, as he and Wilson descended. "It is not I am really afraid you know, Wilson; but I want to tell the news at the barracks." The two young men were soon mounted, and riding along to the cavalry barracks, where the 10th Hussars were now quartered. When they reached the barracks, they found the yard full of men and officers, crowded round a soldier who had lately dismounted. "Hallo! here's some one who can enlighten us better than this d--d Paddy!" "How are you, De Vere?--so you've had a duel at the Towers?" said Captain Ross. "How the devil did you learn the news? Well, that's a nice sell for me,--coming all this way to tell you stale news." The explanation was given that one of the troopers had been supping at the Towers that evening, and, with true Irish wisdom, having heard there had been a duel, and one of the duellists killed, without staying to inquire which had fallen "much aghast, Rode back to _Piershill_ fiery fast." He could only tell that the Captain and Sir Richard Musgrave had had a duel: one was shot dead, but he could not say which. When Frank came with the full particulars, he slipped away and had a long argument with a stolid Scotchman, about who fired the first shot. "Come, De Vere, who was the slain?" said Major Cathcart;--"I will bet five to one it was not John De Vere!" "You're right;--Musgrave was done for--shot clean through his forehead." Frank then detailed the whole to a throng of officers and sergeants in the mess room, and did not omit the joke about his riding there for fear of the dead man. "You should have brought him here," said the Major; "we are not afraid of dead bodies!" A yell of laughter followed this savage jest; and they then all sat down to a wining party, and drank the dead man's health in silence ere they retired!