Sleep, however, on my part was, under any circumstances, out of the question, for I was under great anxiety lest Papa should be pitched out of his berth, as he slept in the one above mine. Before retiring for the night I had consulted the surgeon on the subject, having heard that a steward had been once thrown out of his berth in this vessel under similar circumstances. The surgeon assured me that he had never heard of such an accident, and Papa reminded me that his height would save him from such a calamity, for the berths being only six feet long he could, by stretching himself out to his full length, wedge himself in and hold on by his head and heels, and so, in fact, he did; but many passed the night on the floors in their cabin, particularly the children, who had not the advantage of being six feet three. Next morning the surgeon said he would not himself have slept where Papa did, and I suspect few of the upper berths were occupied. So much for the value of a medical opinion! I was very sorry I could not go on deck on either of the following days, for though the gale had abated, the wind continued sufficiently strong to keep up a splendid sea. Papa, however, says that it was more the force of the wind when the gale first began, than the height of the sea that was remarkable, as the gale did not last long enough to get up a _proper_ sea, though what that would have been I cannot imagine, as the effects, such as they were, were sufficiently serious for me. Since then, things have gone on prosperously, but we have only to-night come in sight of the lights on Cape Clear. The sea mercifully is somewhat smoother, and has allowed me to write this long story; and I am going to bed with a fairer prospect of sleep than I have had for the last few nights.