"I own, too, frankly, I intended my freak as the subject
of a wager. If I be caught in my own toils, I must only pay the
penalty."

"And give me satisfaction?"

"That is what I mean," replied he, bowing.

"Then you have done it already," said I, rising. "I ask for no more than
the frank and manly readiness with which you acknowledge that poverty is
no disqualification to the assertion of an honorable pride, and that the
feeling of a gentleman may still throb in the heart of a ragged man."

"You are surely not going to leave me this way," said he, catching my
hand in both his own. "You'll tell me who you are,--you 'll let me know
at least something of you."

"Not now, at all events," said I. "I'm not in a mood to encounter more
at present. Good night. Before I leave you, however, I owe it, as some
return for your hospitality, to say that I shall not hazard your credit
with your Prince,--I do not mean to accept his invitation. You must
find the fitting apology, for I shall leave England to-morrow, in all
likelihood for years,--at all events, for a period long enough to make
this incident forgotten. Good-bye."

"By Jove! I 'll never forgive myself if we part in this fashion,"
said O'Kelly. "Do--as a proof of some regard, or at least of some
consideration for me--do tell me your real name."

"Carew," said I, calmly.

"No, no; that was but a jest. I ask in all earnestness and sincerity;
tell me your name."

"Jasper Carew," said I, again; and before he could collect himself to
reply, I had reached the door, and, with a last "good-night," I passed
out, and left him.

I could not bring myself to return to my miserable lodging again. I felt
as if a new phase of life had opened on me, and that it would be an act
of meanness to revert to the scenes of my former obscurity. I entered a
hotel, and ordered a room. My appearance and dress at once exacted every
respect and attention. A handsome chamber was immediately prepared for
me; and just as day was breaking, I fell off into a deep sleep which
lasted till late in the afternoon.

CHAPTER XL. AT SEA

I cannot attempt to describe my feelings on awaking, nor the lamentable
failure of all my efforts at recalling the events of the night before.
That many real occurrences seemed to me the mere effects of wine and a
heated imagination, and that some of the very wildest freaks of my fancy
were assumed by me as facts, I can now readily believe. In truth, my
head was in