It is curious, by the way, to see how the levelling influence of sleep shows itself in establishing a sort of equality between different individuals, in respect of the noise they make in the world. Your modest man, who, in his waking moments, avoids all display of his vocal or other powers, no sooner comes under the influence of the drowsy god, than his modesty deserts him; he blows his trumpet with as much sonorousness as the most impudent of mankind. The most retiring person I ever knew, was remarkable for being outrageously vociferous in his slumbers.
The redoubtable Pat, however, was guiltless of contributing to the volume of sound aforesaid; nor was his physiognomy discoverable among the sleeping or waking occupants of the cabins, so far as we could see. And as for any discoveries we made that night, or any good that our trusty arms did us, we might as well have been encircled in the "arms of Morpheus." At one time, however, we thought our night's work would prove a successful one, for on hastily consulting the clerk as we boarded the steamer, he informed us that a man answering tolerably well the description of the object of our search, had paid his fare to Albany, and was snugly stowed away in berth No. 54, in the forward cabin.
The revolvers and "ornaments" were hastily examined, and the plan adopted of delegating one of the trio to proceed quietly to No. 54, and, under the pretence that its occupant was in possession of the wrong berth, to ascertain, first, if he was really the veritable Pat.
As I was the only one who could readily identify him, this duty fell upon me; and leaving my fearless associates at the top of the stairs, with instructions to rush to my aid, in case I took off my hat, with almost breathless anxiety I made a descent into the cabin, and in a few seconds stood in front of the berth designated by the clerk.
"Hallo, stranger," I called out, at the same time gently shaking him, "haven't you got the wrong pew?"
An inhuman sort of a grunt was all the reply I could at first obtain, but after repeating the inquiry, and increasing the force of the punch, he leisurely turned over.
"And what the d—l do you want?" says the lodger, "bothering a gentleman in this way? Is it my pocket-book, or my boots, you're after?"
It wasn't Pat's voice at all, nor was it his face, which I at that moment got a glimpse of, by the aid of a lantern in the hands of one of the servants who was passing. As I saw preparations making for "turning out," and was satisfied that I had waked up the wrong passenger, I thought it prudent to withdraw before matters progressed further in that direction.
None of the suspected party were on board on that occasion.
The telegraph was resorted to after our arrival in Albany, and word transmitted to us in that way, that the party we were in search of would certainly go up the river by the boat on the following night.