dvised me not to do it. That would have come to
almost fifteen dollars, and that I should have been sure of. So much
for taking my father's advice. I hope they'll get up another lottery
to-morrow, and then I'll buy a ticket and do just as I please with it,
and not take _any body's_ advice. I shall be sure to make fifteen
dollars, at least, if I don't do any better than I might have done
to-day."

The rest of the company felt very much as Hilbert did about their losses
and disappointments, though the etiquette of gambling, which they
understood better than he, forbade their expressing their feelings so
freely. In fact, one source of the illusion which surrounds this vice
is, that the interest which it excites, and the hilarity and mirth which
attend it during its progress, are all open to view, while the
disappointment, the mortification, the chagrin, and the remorse are all
studiously concealed. The remorse is the worst ingredient in the bitter
cup. It not only stings and torments those who have lost, but it also
spoils the pleasure of those who win. That is, in fact, always the
nature and tendency of remorse. It aggravates all the pain and suffering
that it mingles with and poisons all the pleasure.

CHAPTER XI.

THE ARRIVAL.

Day after day of the voyage thus glided away, the time being beguiled by
the various incidents which occurred, until at length the ship began to
draw near toward the land. As the time passed on, the interest which the
passengers felt in their approach toward the land began to be very
strong. Some of them were crossing the Atlantic for the first time; and
they, of course, anticipated their first view of the shores of the old
world with great anticipations of delight. The first land to be "made,"
as the sailors say, that is to be seen, was Cape Clear--the southern
point of Ireland. There is a lighthouse on this point; and so well had
the captain kept his reckoning, and so exact had been his calculations
in his progress over the mighty waste of waters, that on the morning of
the last day he could venture to predict to an hour when the light would
come into view. He said it would be between nine and ten. When Maria
and the two children went to their berths, Maria asked the chambermaid
to come and tell them when the light was in sight. She accordingly did
so. Rollo, in order to know how near the captain was in his
calculations, asked her what o'clock it was. She said twenty-five
minutes a