In my agony of mind I remembered an appointment with my brother and made for his club, a very fast one, where I told my pitiful story. He and his wild friends were delighted with the yarn, and a council was promptly held to discuss what was to become of me. At this council one of them, a Roman Catholic of very high rank, suggested I should join the Papal Zouaves, at the same time offering me letters of introduction to the big-wigs at the Vatican. These I gratefully accepted, and in less than a fortnight became a _sous-lieut._ in that cosmopolitan corps, in which I thoroughly enjoyed myself. However, it was not for long, as at the end of five months I was summoned home to present myself at the examination for a direct commission. On my return to England I took up my residence with my uncle at Brighton, and while there came in contact with the celebrated Gipsy Lee, who told my fortune, and that so truthfully I think I may be forgiven should I repeat her prognostications. It fell out in this way. One day I chanced to meet an old schoolfellow, and together we walked out to the Devil’s Dyke, and while lolling on the grass were accosted by Gipsy Lee, then a handsome middle-aged woman, who insisted on telling me my fortune. In a chaffing spirit I replied to her solicitations: “Ah, mother, I know my fortune. I am going up to be examined for the army and shall then go to India, but come along, you shall tell me if I am to pass high up on the list.” Putting my hand carelessly into my pocket, meaning to give her a small piece of silver, I accidentally drew out a sovereign, which I handed her, then, seeing my mistake, said, with a rather rueful laugh: “Keep it, mother, you’re in luck’s way to-day.” She shook her head and looked at my hand for some time, then gravely said: “An open-handed, free giver you are, and as it was born in the blood, so will you remain till your death. That is as it should be, but you are and always will be reckless, never learning the value of money, although you will often suffer for the want of it. You will pass your examination high up on the list, but will never enter the army. You will wander over the world, through lands I have never heard of, but you will never go to India. You have already been a soldier; there is blood on your hand, and there will be much more, for, although you will never join the army, you will take part in many wars and fight in many battles. You will suffer much, you will experience hunger, thirst, cold and poverty. You will pass through many dangers, from fire, from water, from savage men and beasts. You will lose many friends through war and sickness, but though often hurt you will live a long life of disappointment. Others will make fortunes round you, but you will remain poor. Women will be your best friends and your worst enemies, and you will be robbed of your birthright by your own brother. Many times you will have grasped the cup of good fortune, only to have it dashed from your hand.