t do you mean by that?"

"You were as drunk as an owl, and made the room smell like a low
groggery."

"I confess that I took a little too much that night," said he, suddenly
changing his front, and apparently relieved to find that this was the
objection to him. "I shall not do it again."

"I shall keep away from you, any how," I added.

"Will you?" he continued, angry again. "That night I lost some valuable
articles from my trunk. No one but my room-mate could have taken them. I
intend to complain to the captain."

"Indeed! I had a similar experience. I had some valuable letters taken
from my valise; and they could have been taken only by my room-mate; but
I found them again, and I am satisfied. When you complain to the
captain, one story will be good till another is told."

Not wishing to talk with him any longer, I walked aft. He followed me,
uttering threats and imprecations, which I did not heed. E. Dunkswell
was a disappointed man. He had undertaken a mission which he was not
competent to perform. He had failed by his own folly. If he had kept
sober he might have retained my papers. He evidently felt his own
weakness, and realized that whiskey had caused him to make a mess of it.

His hostility was excited against me, and during the rest of the voyage
he watched me with an evil eye, and appeared to be waiting for an
opportunity to do something. For my own part, I felt that there was a
heavy discount on E. Dunkswell.

CHAPTER XXIV.

IN WHICH ERNEST LANDS AT CROOKHAVEN, AND PROCEEDS TO LONDON.

WE had a remarkably pleasant and quick passage, and on the eighth day
from New York, while we were at dinner, I heard the captain say to a
lady who sat near him, that we should be off Queenstown the next
morning, at six or seven o'clock. I was sorry that we were to approach
the land by night, for I wanted to see it.

"You can see it if you choose to sit up all night," laughed Mr.
Solomons.

"It will be rather too dark to see anything," I added.

"Not at all; it is about the full of the moon, and it will be as light
as day. You can turn in early, and sleep four or five hours. We shall be
off Crookhaven, where they throw over the despatch bag, about five or
six hours before we stop off Queenstown; that will make it about two in
the morning. If you will retire at eight, it will give you six hours'
sleep; and you can turn in again and finish your nap after you have seen
enough of the shore."

"I think I w