"At last the play was over. I had been enticed by some young men into a gambling-house, where they intended to fleece me; but, for the first night, they allowed me to win, I think, about 300 pounds. I was quite delighted with my success, and had agreed to meet them the next evening; but when I was at breakfast, with my legs crossed, reading the _Morning Post_, who should come to see me but my guardian uncle. He knew his nephew's features too well to be deceived, and my not recognising him proved at once that I was an impostor. You must allow me to hasten over the scene which took place,--the wrath of the uncle, the confusion in the hotel, the abuse of the waiters, the police-officer, and being dragged into a hackney-coach to Bow-street. There I was examined, and confessed all. The uncle was so glad to find that his nephew was really dead, that he felt no resentment towards me; and as, after all, I had only assumed a name, but had cheated nobody, except the landlord at Portsmouth, I was sent on board the tender off the Tower to be drafted into a man-of-war. As for my 300 pounds, my clothes, etc, I never heard any more of them; they were seized, I presume, by the landlord of the hotel for my bill, and very handsomely he must have paid himself. "You found some difference, I should think, in your situation?" "Yes I did, Mr Simple: but I was much happier. I could not forget the ladies, and the dinners, and the opera, and all the delights of London, beside the respect paid to my title, and I often sighed for them; but the police-officer and Bow-street also came to my recollection, and I shuddered at the remembrance. It had, however, one good effect; I determined to be an officer if I could, and learnt my duty, and worked my way up to quarter-master, and thence to boatswain--and I know my duty, Mr Simple. But I've been punished for my folly ever since. I formed ideas above my station in life, and cannot help longing to be a gentleman. It's a bad thing for a man to have ideas above his station." "You certainly must find some difference between the company in London and that of the warrant officers." "It's many years back now, sir; but I can't get over the feeling. I can't 'sociate with them at all." CHAPTER FIFTEEN. I GO ON SERVICE, AND AM MADE PRISONER BY AN OLD LADY, WHO, NOT ABLE TO OBTAIN MY HAND, TAKES PART OF MY FINGER AS A TOKEN--O'BRIEN RESCUES ME-- A LEE SHORE AND NARROW ESCAPE.