Far, far away from rough and rocky Cornwall--from steep Tintagel with all its memories of King Arthur's knights, his "Table Round" and flirting queen; from the traditionary haunts of its giant Tregeagle, and from its wondrous mines deep, deep down below even the blue waves of the Atlantic; far away beyond the Indus and the frontiers of British India, fifteen hundred miles from Calcutta, and seven hundred from the shores of the Arabian Gulf, we have to change the scene to where a British army, under General Elphinstone, was cantoned before the city of Cabul, ere we can look after the fortunes of Denzil Devereaux, of whom we have barely thought, while progressing through an entire volume of ou…
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