Wishing to gain what knowledge he might of his guest before awaking him, Dick turned to inspect his clothes, which, in a wild disorder, lay scattered through the room. They were of the very poorest; but such still as might have belonged to a very humble clerk, or a messenger in a counting-house. A large black leather pocket-book fell from a pocket of the coat, and, in replacing it, Dick perceived it was filled with letters. On one of these, as he closed the clasp, he read the name, ‘Mr. Daniel Donogan, Dartmouth Gaol.’ ‘What!’ cried he, ‘is this the great head-centre, Donogan, I have read so much of? and how is he here?’ Though Dick Kearney was not usually quick of apprehension, he was not long here in guessing what the situation meant: it was clear enough that Donogan, being a friend of Joe Atlee, had been harboured here as a safe refuge. Of all places in the capital, none were so secure from the visits of the police as the college; indeed, it would have been no small hazard for the public force to have invaded these precincts. Calculating therefore that Kearney was little likely to leave Kilgobbin at present, Atlee had installed his friend in Dick’s quarters. The indiscretion was a grave one; in fact, there was nothing--even to expulsion itself--might not have followed on discovery. ‘So like him! so like him!’ was all he could mutter, as he arose and walked about the room. While he thus mused, he turned into Atlee’s bedroom, and at once it appeared why Mr. Donogan had been accommodated in his room. Atlee’s was perfectly destitute of everything: bed, chest of drawers, dressing-table, chair, and bath were all gone. The sole object in the chamber was a coarse print of a well-known informer of the year ‘98, ‘Jemmy O’Brien,’ under whose portrait was written, in Atlee’s hand, ‘Bought in at fourpence-halfpenny, at the general sale, in affectionate remembrance of his virtues, by one who feels himself to be a relative.--J.A.’ Kearney tore down the picture in passion, and stamped upon it; indeed, his indignation with his chum had now passed all bounds of restraint. ‘So like him in everything!’ again burst from him in utter bitterness. Having thus satisfied himself that he had read the incident aright, he returned to the sitting-room, and at once decided that he would leave Donogan to his rest till morning. ‘It will be time enough then to decide what is to be done,’ thought he.