The sea between us and the coast was of a dull green shade; there was a fresh breeze blowing, mists floated above the water like spray. Numerous vessels, brigs and schooners, were awaiting the tide; steamers puffing away their black smoke were soon distanced by the “Great Eastern,” although she was going at a very moderate speed. Soon we came in sight of Queenstown, a small “calling-place,” before which several fishermen’s boats were at work. It is here that all ships bound for Liverpool, whether steamers or sailing-ships, throw out their despatch-bags, which are carried to Dublin in a few hours by an express train always in readiness. From Dublin they are conveyed across the channel to Holyhead by a fast steamer, so that despatches thus sent are one day in advance of the most rapid Transatlantic steamers. [Illustration: SOON WE CAME IN SIGHT OF QUEENSTOWN.] About nine o’clock the bearings of the “Great Eastern” were west-north-west. I was just going on deck, when I met Captain Mac Elwin, accompanied by a friend, a tall, robust man, with a light beard and long moustache which mingled with the whiskers and left the chin bare, after the fashion of the day. This tall fellow was the exact type of an English officer; his figure was erect without stiffness, his look calm, his walk dignified but easy; his whole appearance seemed to indicate unusual courage, and I was not mistaken in him. “My friend, Archibald Corsican,” said Fabian to me, “a captain in the 22nd regiment of the Indian army, like myself.” Thus introduced, Captain Corsican and I bowed. [Illustration: CAPTAIN CORSICAN AND I BOWED.] “We hardly saw each other yesterday, Fabian,” said I, shaking Captain Mac Elwin’s hand, “we were in the bustle of departure, so that all I know about you is that it was not chance which brought you on board the ‘Great Eastern.’ I must confess that if I have anything to do with your decision—” “Undoubtedly, my dear fellow,” interrupted Fabian; “Captain Corsican and I came to Liverpool with the intention of taking our berths on board the ‘China,’ a Cunard steamer, when we heard that the ‘Great Eastern’ was going to attempt another passage from England to America; it was a chance we might not get again, and learning that you were on board I did not hesitate, as I had not seen you since we took that delightful trip in the Scandinavian States three years ago; so now you know how it was that the tender brought us here yesterday.” “My dear Fabian,” I replied, “I believe that neither Captain Corsican nor yourself will regret your decision, as a passage across the Atlantic in this huge boat cannot fail to be interesting even to you who are so little used to the sea. But now let us talk about yourself. Your last letter, and it is not more than six weeks since I received it, bore the Bombay post-mark, so that I was justified in believing you were still with your regiment.”