to me,
and seemed to be strongly inclined to cultivate an intimacy with me. I
could not do less than be civil to him. He invited me to drink wine with
him at lunch, and to smoke his cigars afterwards, neither of which I
could do.

At four we dined, and Mr. Dunkswell renewed his efforts to be intimate
with me; and the more he persevered, the more he didn't accomplish
anything. I did not like him, and I could not like him. At dinner he
drank more wine than his head could bear, and this did not make him any
more agreeable to me. After dinner, Mr. Solomons and myself took seats
upon the hurricane deck. He mentioned that he had called to see Kate
the preceding evening, and this afforded me an opportunity to tell my
story, to which my friend listened with the deepest interest.

He assured me that I had done right; that it was my duty to find my
mother; that the fact of my uncle's misapplying my father's fortune
justified me in taking the money and the papers from the safe. He
commended me for my spirit, and for my devotion to my mother. If I had
not felt sure of his approbation beforehand, I suppose I should not have
had the courage to tell him my history. At half past seven we went down
to tea; and this time Mr. Dunkswell did not make his appearance.

After a promenade on deck till nine o'clock, I found myself tired enough
to retire, and more inclined to sleep than I had been before since I
left Parkville. I went to my state-room, and found the door locked on
the inside. I knocked, but Mr. Dunkswell, politely but in rather muddled
tones, requested me to wait a moment. I did wait a moment, and was
admitted. My room-mate was tipsy, but not enough so to make him anything
more than silly. He was lying in his berth, with his clothes off Having
occasion to open my valise, I found the contents in a very confused
state, and not as I had left them. I was somewhat startled, and hastened
to examine further. I had put my letter of credit, and about two hundred
dollars in bank bills, in my money belt. The letters I had taken from my
uncle's safe I had deposited in my valise. They could be of no value to
any one on board but myself, and I thought they would be safe in the
state-room.

They were not safe; to my astonishment and dismay, they were not to be
found. I had placed them under my best suit, and they were certainly
gone. The confusion in my valise indicated that they had been stolen.

CHAPTER XXIII.

IN WHICH ERNEST FI