"They think the change of air will do me good," Major O'Connor said to
Terence, as they were chatting together after the latter arrived, "and I
think so myself. It is evident that I cannot take part in the next
campaign, but I hope to rejoin again in the spring. Of course it is hard,
but I must not grumble; if the bullet had been half an inch more to the
right it would have smashed the bone altogether, then I should have had
small chance indeed, for taking off the leg at the hip is an operation
that not one man in twenty survives. O'Flaherty says he thinks that all
the bits of bone have worked out now, and that I may not be permanently
lame; but if it is to be so, lad, it is of no use kicking against fate. I
have got my majority, and if permanently disabled by my wounds, can retire
on a pension on which I can live comfortably."
"So I hear that Sir John Moore is going to march into Spain. By the way,
you have got some cousins in Oporto or the neighbourhood, though I don't
suppose you are likely to run against them."
"I never heard you say anything about them before, father."
"No; I don't think that I ever did mention it. A first cousin of mine went
over, just about the time that I was married, to Oporto, and established
himself there as a wine merchant. He had been out there before for a firm
in Dublin, and when Clancy's father died, and he came into some money he
went out, as I said, and started for himself.
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