Yes, the name of Dublin would ever be associated with pleasant memories, for the little encounter with Don Porfidio was but a romance; while his capture and imprisonment by the Spanish clique had only been the means of bringing his beloved sweetheart again to his arms, and he could not harbor ill feelings against any cause that had brought about such an effect. By ten o'clock they were on board the yacht. Roderic could not help casting many eager glances around at the various vessels lying at anchor in Kingstown harbor. He was thinking of the Sterling Castle. Already he had made inquiries concerning the steamer, and knew her build. There were several marked peculiarities about her style, the painting of her funnel and other things that would stamp her individuality, so that he was able to declare after searching the harbor, that the impudent little blockade runner was not present. Then she had about twelve hours the start and was doubtless far down the Irish coast. The anchor was weighed with the usual cheery English chorus, and as the steam yacht headed into Dublin bay, Roderic, looking back to the beautiful city thus left behind, could not but be impressed. It was a glorious summer day and the sight an inspiring one, for Kingstown harbor at this season of the year is usually thronged with pleasure craft as well as those of business. Going out they passed the Holyhead steamer just entering. Roderic could not but reflect with deep satisfaction what a great change had taken place in his own life since he trod the hurricane deck of that same steamer a short time before. Truly events follow each other in rapid succession in some lives. Providence seemed to be in an especially favoring mood with regard to his fortunes just at present. If it would only continue. He knew not what the future held--perhaps, could he have lifted the veil and obtained a glimpse of what adventures and perils lay in his path, the prospect might have appalled even his stout heart. How mercifully the future is screened from our inquisitive eyes--could we but _know_, how idle would our struggles seem, and despair must often cause us to cease the hopeless contest. It is this element of uncertainty that keeps hope alive in our hearts, and many times wrings victory from seeming defeat. As they passed down the far famed Irish sea the tops of the green hills could always be seen above the haze that sometimes hid their base and the fishing villages nestling there from view. Roderic spent much time in leaning over the rail and watching this everchanging panorama, while smoking his pipe--for Cleo had made it distinctly understood that she was very fond of tobacco smoke in the open air, and that he was at liberty to indulge when and where he chose; a privilege that caused Miss Becky to lift her eyes in horror, for she had a special aversion to this self same odor.