CHAPTER XII.
THE LETTER.
As I hurried to my quarters, I made a hundred guesses from whom the letter could have come; a kind of presentiment told me that it bore, in some measure, upon the present crisis of my life, and I burned with anxiety to read it.
No sooner had I reached the light, than all my hopes on this head vanished; the envelope bore the well-known name of my old college chum, Frank Webber, and none could, at the moment, have more completely dispelled all chance of interesting me.

I threw it from me with disappointment, and sat moodily down to brood over my fate.
At length, however, and almost without knowing it, I drew the lamp towards me, and broke the seal.

The reader being already acquainted with my amiable friend, there is the less indiscretion in communicating the contents, which ran thus:-- TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN, No.

2, October 5, 1810.
My Dear O'Malley,--Nothing short of your death and burial, with or without military honors, can possibly excuse your very disgraceful neglect of your old friends here.

Nesbitt has never heard of you, neither has Smith.