_Sir Uchtred_ goes mad, mad as a hatter--("What hatter? But no matter!" quoth the poetical Baron),--and wanders about "with a tile off," just as a hatter would do who was so demented as to forget his business. Then at the critical moment he is suddenly restored to his senses by hearing, in the darkness, far down, a bell ring! Yes, he had heard it before, a sweet church bell, long ago in his infancy.... Just as the wicked character in _Nicholas Nickleby's_ first play written for the _Crummles Company_, the villain of the piece, when about to commit his greatest piece of villainy, hears a clock strike! He has heard a clock strike in happier times, in the days of his innocency, and he is struck by the striking coincidence, and he weeps--he relents! he is good once more!!! And this is how mad _Sir Uchtred_ is brought back again to his senses, and how all ends happily for everybody except for a certain lame tamed black wild cat, which, after having had a great deal to do with the story, disappears, and is heard of no more. Alas! poor Yorick! Will good Sir R. CROCKETT of the Pens write another little red book--("such is the colour of the cover in the Autonym Library. But for certain 'tis a much read book," quoth idiotic Sir Bookred of the Swills)--informing us what became of the cat with three legs and eight lives, one of its chances having gone? I haven't met such a cat as this since Mr. ANTHONY HOPE introduced us to the appreciative tail-less one belonging to _Mr. Witt's Widow_. And another book in the library is _The Upper Berth_. It sounds an aristocratic title, doesn't it? Go not by sound save when the cheering dinner-gong or luncheon-bugle may summon thee; and then "stand not on the order of your going," but go and order whatever there may be on the _menu_. "_The Upper Berth_," says the Baron, still aboard the gallant vessel, "is the best ghost story I have read for many a day. 'Tis by MARION CRAWFORD, and not written in his well-known modern Roman hand. Then in the same volume, by the same author, is _The Waters of Paradise_, which is disappointing, certainly, after the sensational _Upper Berth_. Therefore," quoth the Baron, "my counsel and advice is, read, if you will, _The Waters of Paradise_, only take them off at a draught first; don't mix the spirit with the waters, but take _The Upper Berth_ afterwards. For choice read it in bed, with the aid of one solitary light, taking care to select a tempestuous night, when boards creak, windows rattle, and doors open of their own accord. In these conditions you will thoroughly enjoy MARION CRAWFORD'S _Upper Berth_, and will gratefully thank the thoughtful and considerate BARON DE BOOK-WORMS."