It was Mr. Emmett. He trembled, and was very pale. He had thrown his tragedian cloak over his shoulders, and looked a truly ludicrous object with a short space of his bare shanks showing and his feet in a pair of large carpet slippers. In fact, by this time the whole of the passengers were alarmed, the ladies looking out of their doors and calling, the men hustling into the passage to see, with the sound of Mr. Prance’s voice at the head of the steps of the hatch shouting down to know what the noise was about. It was more than I could stand. The figures of the colonel and the Dutchman and Emmett, not to mention Riley, coming on top of the absurdity of the fight, proved too much for me. I took one look at Greenhew, shot through the door, gained my cabin, and flung myself into my bunk, exhausted with laughter, and utterly incapable of answering the numberless questions which Colledge fired off at me. The noise ceased after a while, but not before I heard the captain’s storming accents outside my berth. I could also hear the colonel complaining in strong language of so great an outrage as that of two young men fighting in the dead of night within the hearing of ladies. The old skipper insisted on one of the young fellows quitting the cabin and sharing the berth tenanted by Mr. Fairthorne. Both vehemently refused to budge. The captain then asked who struck the first blow. Riley answered that he had, and was beginning to explain, when old Keeling silenced him by saying that he would give him five minutes to retire to Mr. Fairthorne’s berth, and that if he had not cleared out by that time he would send for the boatswain and a sailor or two to show him the road. This ended the difficulty, as I was told next morning, and the rest of the night passed quietly enough. Next day, Mr. Riley put in an appearance at breakfast. On seeing me he came round to my seat, and in a few words begged me not to explain the cause of the quarrel, as he had no wish that his peculiarity as a sleeper should be known to the rest of us. I gave him my word, but regretted that he should have exacted it, as I wished to talk with Saunders and Hemmeridge on the very extraordinary manifestations I had witnessed. It was fortunate, however, that my share in the disturbance was not guessed at. The colonel, Hemskirk, and the rest imagined that I had been drawn to the young men’s berth by the noise, as they had, and no questions were therefore asked me. Mr. Greenhew kept his bed for three days. It was mainly sulking and shame with him, the others thought; but the truth was his eye had not only closed, but was so swollen and blackened as to render him unfit to appear in public. He sent one of the stewards to ask me to see him; but I had had quite enough of Mr. Greenhew, and contrived to keep clear of the youth until his coming on deck made escape from him impossible.