I will try not to offend in the same way again; and, as some compensation for having been too tedious, I shall pass over nearly three years of my existence--without occupying much space in describing the incidents that transpired during this period. Circumstances aid me in doing so, for these three years were spent in a tranquil, happy manner. They produced no change in my situation: for I remained in the same employment--in the service of Captain Hyland. The ship "Lenore," owned and commanded by him, was a regular trader between Liverpool and New Orleans. In our voyages, the captain took as much trouble in trying to teach me navigation--and all other things connected with the profession of the sea--as he could have done had I been his own son. I appreciated his kindness; and had the gratification to know that my efforts to deserve it met with his warmest approbation. At every return to Liverpool, and during our sojourn there, his house was my home. At each visit, my friendship for Mrs Hyland, and her beautiful daughter Lenore, became stronger. It was mutual too; and I came to be regarded almost as one of the family. When in Liverpool, I had frequent opportunities of going to Dublin to see my mother, and with shame I confess that I did not make use of them. The attractions of my home in Liverpool proved too great for me to leave it--even for a short interval. I often thought of going to Dublin; and reflected with pride on the fact that I was getting to be a man, and would be able to protect my relatives from any ill-treatment they might have received at the hands of Mr Leary. With all this, I did not go. Aboard of the ship, I had one enemy, who, for some reason not fully understood, seemed to hate me as heartily, as one man could hate another. This was the first mate, who had been with Captain Hyland for several years. He had witnessed with much disfavour the interest the captain took in my welfare, from the time of my first joining the ship; and jealousy of my influence over the latter might have had much to do in causing the mate's antipathy towards myself. The steward, sailmaker, and one or two others, who were permanently attached to the vessel, were all friends to the "Rolling Stone," the name by which I was generally known; but the hostility of the first mate could not be removed by any efforts I made towards that end. After a time, I gradually lost the nickname of the "Rolling Stone," and was called by my proper name, Rowland. I suppose the reason was, that my actions having proved me willing and able to remain for some time in one situation, it was thought that I deserved to be called a "Rolling Stone" no longer. I had been nearly three years with Captain Hyland, and we were in New Orleans--where the ship, lying at the wharf, was left under my charge. The captain himself had gone to stay at a hotel in the city; and I had not seen him for several days.