I was very grateful to Mr. Carmichael and the captain for their kindness to me, and I did not fail to express my obligations in the strongest terms. A berth in the cabin was assigned to me, and as the run to Kinsale would occupy between five and six hours, I turned in to finish my nap. I was too much excited to sleep, and I could not help thinking of what had happened to me. I had never done such a thing as to fall overboard without some help. Though I was not positive, I had a very strong impression that I had felt something on my back, while watching the blue-light on the barrel. Whether it had been the swaying of the signal halyards against me, or the push of a human hand, I was not certain; but I could not help believing that E. Dunkswell had helped me to my involuntary bath. I don't know now, but I still believe it. I had no doubt he had been instructed by Tom Thornton to see Bunyard before I did. Whether the villain intended to drown me, or only to delay my arrival in London, I have no means of knowing. Doubtless he intended to land at Queenstown, and get to London eight or ten hours before the passengers who proceeded to Liverpool in the steamer. I went to sleep at last, satisfied that I was again the victim of a conspiracy. But when I was awakened at half past eight, in Kinsale harbor, I was also satisfied that the way of the wicked shall not prosper. My clothes, thoroughly dried, were brought to me, and I dressed myself in season to land for the train for Cork, where we arrived as soon as the mails and those of the passengers who landed there. I breakfasted with Mr. Carmichael at the Royal Victoria, and at twenty minutes of eleven we took the train for Dublin, where we arrived at half past three. Though I made diligent search among the passengers, I could not find E. Dunkswell, and I concluded that he had gone to Liverpool in the steamer. In the evening I took the train for Kingstown, where I embarked in the steamer for Holyhead, at which place I again took a train, and at seven o'clock on Saturday morning was at Morley's, in London, at least eight hours before my fellow-voyagers could arrive. After I had breakfasted, I took the Bunyard letter from my money-belt, and hastened to find Old Jewry. CHAPTER XXV. IN WHICH ERNEST VISITS STONY STRATFORD, AND E. DUNKSWELL COMES TO GRIEF. THOUGH I was in a strange land, and in the midst of the wonders of the Old World, I had but little curiosity to see the grand sights which London can present. I had been whirled through Ireland, Wales, and England to the great metropolis, part of the time by daylight; and though I had kept my eyes wide open, I realized that my mission was higher and grander than studying landscapes, and wandering through the vaulted arches of old cathedrals.