The next day Colonel Ripon started with the 66th and, at the end of the first day's march, met a messenger who, among other despatches, carried a telegram granting him, at once, the leave he asked for--and which, indeed, had been due, had he asked for it many years before. His intention was to accompany the 66th to Kurrachee, and to sail with it to England. This intention was carried out, and the remnant of the regiment safely reached England.  
One of Colonel Ripon's first steps was to accompany Will--or, as he ought now to be called, Tom--to the Horse Guards; and to procure an insertion in the Gazette stating that Captain William Gale, of the 66th, would henceforth be known by his true and proper name of Thomas Ripon.
 
The colonel purchased a fine estate in Somersetshire and, retiring from the service, settled down there. There was a considerable discussion, between father and son, as to whether the latter should remain in the army. Colonel Ripon was unwilling that his son should relinquish a profession of which he was fond; and in which, from his early promotion, he had every chance of obtaining high rank and honor--but Tom, who saw how great a pleasure his society was to his father, and how lonely the latter's life would be without him, was resolute in his determination to quit the service. He had already, as he said, passed through a far greater share of adventure than usually falls to one man's lot; and the colonel's property was so large that there was not the slightest occasion for him to continue in the service.
 
Not long after his return to England, Will paid a visit to Ely workhouse. He was accompanied by the colonel, and the two men walked together up to the gate of the workhouse. He rang at the bell, and a woman opened the door. She curtsied, at seeing two tall, soldier-like gentlemen before her.
 
"Your name is Mrs. Dickson, I think?" the younger said.
 
The woman gave a violent start, and gazed earnestly at him.
 
"It is Will Gale!" she exclaimed, drawing back a step. "They said you were dead, years ago."
 
"No, I am very much alive, Mrs. Dickson; and glad, most glad, to see an old friend again."
 
"Good Lord!" the woman exclaimed, "it is the boy himself, sure enough;" and, for a moment, she seemed as if she would have rushed into his arms; and then she drew back, abashed at his appearance.
 
Tom, however, held out his arms; and the woman fell sobbing into them.
 
"Why, you did not think so badly of me," he said, "as to think that I should forget the woman who was a mother to me.
 
"Father," he said,
 
"--For I have found my real father, Mrs. Dickson, as you always said I should, some day--
 
"It is to this good woman that I owe what I am. But for her, I might now be a laboring man; but it is to her kindness, to her good advice, to her lessons, that I owe everything. It was she who taught me that I should so behave that, if my parents ever found me, they should have no cause to be ashamed of me. She was, indeed, as a mother to me; and this lodge was my home, rather than the work house, inside.
 
"Ah! And here is Sam!"
 
Sam Dickson, coming out at this moment, stood in open-mouthed astonishment, at seeing his wife standing with her hand in that of a gentleman.
 
"Oh, Sam! Who do you think this is?"
 
Sam made no reply,............