Oh, how bitterly I regretted having forsaken my old profession! No one will ever know the agony I endured. I could have fought the world for the very crumbs that were used to fall from the cuddy table. Day after day I toiled up one street and down another, from mine to mine, and smelter to smelter, seeking for the work which never offered.

One sunset, weary and horribly sick at heart, I was crawling back to my usual camping place on the outskirts of the town, when a sudden faintness seized me. The whole world turned black before my eyes, I reeled, and fell unconscious by the road-side.

I remember nothing of what occurred, till I awoke to find myself lying upon a stretcher in a small tent. A man was leaning over me, and when my eyes opened he seemed to regard it as a matter for considerable satisfaction. I tried to collect my thoughts sufficiently to ask where I was, but seeing my lips attempting to form the sentence, he stopped me by saying--

"Naa, naa, laddie, tha' must just bide still a bit longer. Dunna tha'

try to talk, or tha'll be maakin' thaself ill agin. There's na call for hurry, a tell tha'."

That my kind friend, for such he had surely proved himself, was a miner, I had no doubt--his dress, his kit, and even his accent proved that; but otherwise I could hazard no guess as to where I was. Being too weak to bestow much consideration upon the matter, I closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep again. When I woke it was broad daylight, and my friend had just returned from shift. He hastened to put food before me, talking incessantly the while. From him I learnt that he and his mate had discovered me lying insensible beside the road, not fifty yards from his tent; that between them they had carried me in and put me to bed, and that I had been unconscious for something like six hours.

Naturally, I expressed my grat.i.tude, but he would have none of it, bidding me get well before I talked of saying "Thank you."

My lucky star was evidently in the ascendant. Under his care--for while the kindest and gentlest, he was also the most exacting of nurses--I soon made visible improvement, and in a week was so far recovered as to be able to get up and potter about the tent. It was time for me to be thinking of moving on again.

"Well, laddie," my benefactor said to me one day, "tha's lookin' braavly noo."

"Thanks to you," I hastened to reply, "for without your care, John Trelsar, I don't know where I should have been to-day; not here, at any rate."

"Softly lad, softly, I did na more fa' thee than tha'd do fa' me, I reckon, so we'll cra' quits to it."

"That's all very well; but I owe my life to you, you'll never make me see anything but that. And now, I wonder what's the best thing for me to do. I can't stay idle here; there's no work to be got in the town, so unless I ship to sea again, I don't know what's to become of me."

Trelsar was all alive in a second.

"I've got it," he said, slapping his huge hand on his knee; "there's Seth Polwill below there in Adelaide, look see--working in the Fire Brigade--tha' must go to he, and say Jack Trelsar sent tha', and, mark my words, he'll put thee on the wa' for some'ut."

This Seth Polwill was a great hero of my benefactor's, upon whose appearance, sayings, and actions, he was never tired of discoursing.

They were Townies, that is, they hailed from the same place in the Old Country; and as it appeared later, it was to Seth's advice that Trelsar owed his emigration, and the good position he now occupied.

"That's all very well," I remarked, "but how am I to get to Adelaide? I haven't a red cent to my name, and I don't think I can screw the Government for another pa.s.s; they were nasty enough about the last."

"Now, don't thee trouble thaself about that," said John. "If thee wants a pound or two, to see thee on tha way, why not come to tha friend, Jan Trelsar; never fear, lad, but what a'll trust thee."

Upon my deciding to accept a loan, a piece of paper, a pen, and a bottle of ink were obtained, and a letter of introduction to the all-important Polwill produced.

Armed with this, the very next morning off I accordingly set for the South, arriving in due course in Adelaide. So soon as was possible, I made my way to the Fire Brigade Station, and inquired for Seth Polwill.

The firemen were at dinner, but one whom I should have known anywhere for the man I sought, came to the door and inquired my business. He was a good-looking, well set-up fellow, and when he spoke, I noticed he had none of the Cousin Jack dialect so conspicuous in my benefactor's conversation. Having handed him my letter, he sat down on the wheel of the big engine to examine it. He read it through two or three times before venturing a word; then rising, he shook me gravely by the hand, and inquired after Trelsar's health.

After which, he remarked--

"You don't look well."

I replied that I had but recently recovered from a very serious illness, and this led me on to narrate how I came to meet his friend. He listened attentively, and when I had finished, said--

"You say you've been a sailor?"

I replied in the affirmative, though I refrained from telling him in what capacity, for I had a certain delicacy in letting people know that I had shown myself sufficiently a fool to give up a chief officer's billet afloat for starvation ash.o.r.e.

"Well, look you here, Mr. Ramsay," he said, "I should very much like to help you to something, if only to oblige my friend. The best then that I can do is to tell you that there is a vacancy here. We want another hand, and, as perhaps you know, we prefer sailors. If you can qualify, I don't doubt for a moment but that the superintendent will put you on.

Take my advice, go into his office at once, and ask him yourself. You can't do any harm by asking, even if you don't get what you ask for."

Thanking him for his a.s.sistance, I went straight to the superintendent's room. Once there, I stated my business, making the best possible case I could of it. The superintendent eyed me narrowly.

"You say you've been to sea," he said. "For how long?"

"Twelve years," I replied.

"In what ships?"

I gave him the names of the vessels and their owners.

"In what capacity did you serve aboard them?"

"From apprentice to chief officer," I said, feeling it would be the safest plan to tell him everything.

He stared when he heard my answer, and looked me carefully up and down.

"I don't know that that's exactly a recommendation, my man," he said.

"Chief officers who exchange the sea for a fireman's billet don't exactly answer the description of the man I want. I suppose you're aware we're considered a crack brigade? If I take you on, you'll have to prove you're no skrimshanker. Our motto here is 'Smartness and sobriety,' do you understand?"

I remarked that I did. Then, giving me a note to the doctor, who would examine me, he bade me come back to him next day.

To make a long story short, the doctor's examination proving satisfactory, I was enrolled a member of the Adelaide Fire Brigade, with permission to do as much work as the day had room for, give as much satisfaction as possible, and risk my life in the interest of the city and the reputation of the Brigade as often as opportunity occurred. All things considered, it was by no means an unpleasant life, and until the novelty wore off, I believe I enjoyed it. One strange coincidence, however, happened to me during my connection with it, which I take to be so extraordinary that I must ask your indulgence while I narrate it.

One miserable, gusty night, early in winter, the alarm sounded for a fire. Our promptness was proverbial, and almost before the bell had ceased to sound we were racing for the scene. It turned out to be the New Federation Hotel, in King William Street, and when we arrived the whole building was one enormous blaze. The fire had originated, so it was said, in a small store cupboard behind the bar, and had spread all over the ground-floor, thus practically cutting off the escape of those lodged in the rooms above. According to the manager's statement, nearly every bedroom was occupied that night, and so far only four people had effected exits. Within two minutes of our arrival we had the escapes up against the building, and were pa.s.sing the terrified occupants down as fast as we could lay hold of them. It was dangerous work, but we were not paid to think of that.

Suddenly, at a side window, I saw a woman preparing to hurl herself into the street below. The crowd noticed her too, and raised a yell. Running a ladder round, I mounted to her side, and before she could carry out her purpose had taken her in my arms and borne her safely to the ground.

As we reached it, a weird, dishevelled, scallywag of a man rushed towards us, with arms outstretched, crying, "Oh, my G.o.d, my G.o.d, she's safe--my wife!"

_In that brief moment I recognized my old enemy, Captain Welbourne, the man who I believed had deprived me of Maud!_

Next day I learnt that he was on his wedding tour, and what interested me far more, _that his wife's maiden name was Hawkhurst_! Two points, therefore, raised themselves for my consideration: either he had never loved Maud; or he had declared himself, and she had refused him. If this latter supposition were correct, what could have induced her action? I must leave it to my readers to imagine what agonies of self-reproach I suffered after this discovery. I saw plainly that I had wrecked my whole life by one little foolish exhibition of jealousy, and that too without the slightest cause or justification. A hundred times a day I cursed my senseless stupidity. But there, what is to be gained by opening the old wound? Rather let me draw a curtain over such a painful subject, one which even to-day I hardly like to think about.

Now, though life in the Fire Brigade might and undoubtedly did possess attractions, they were such as were liable to become exceedingly monotonous after a time. So it chanced that when I had been employed therein nearly eight months, a friend heard of a situation as store-keeper, on a Darling River sheep station, which he was kind enough to think might suit me. At his suggestion I applied for the position, and had the good fortune to secure it.

Sending in my resignation to the Board, I left Adelaide, and proceeded into the Bush. But the billet did not come up to expectations, and when I had given it a good trial, I discarded it in favour of another as cook to an Overlanding Party. In this capacity I wandered far afield, with the result that at the end of eighteen months I found myself in Brisbane, tired of the Bush, and pining for a breath of sea air again.

While inactive in Brisbane, an English letter was forwarded to me from the Melbourne Post-office. The writer was a cousin, and her mission was to announce the death of my poor old mother, after a brief illness. The blow, as may be supposed, affected me keenly, the more so because I could not but feel that, all things considered, I had not been the son to her that she deserved. Poor old lady, I never knew how much she was to me until I had lost her. Her death, and the thought that I should never see her loving face, or hear her gentle voice again, seemed to sever the one remaining link that united me to my old life. Could I, I asked myself, be the same person as the little boy she took to school at Plymouth? Could I be the same John Ramsay who followed her into Sir Benjamin Plowden's office, so many years ago? Yes--the same, but oh! how differently situated! With Virgil, I could well cry, "_O mihi praeteritos referat si Jupiter annos!_" Alas! those dear dead years, how bright they are to look back upon, yet how shamefully I misused them!

But in spite of the bitterness of the blow, I could not go on brooding over my loss for ever. My mother was gone, nothing could bring her back to me. It behoved me now to look after myself, for my necessities were on the point of obtruding themselves upon my notice once more.

When I found that the money I had managed to save from my various employments was running short, I began to wonder how I should obtain another situation. The prospect looked gloomy enough in all conscience, when Fate, which was steadily bearing me on towards a certain goal, took me in hand again, and by permitting me to overhear a certain conversation, led me into a track that was fraught with much danger to my future peace. The speakers were the owner of a Thursday Island Pearling schooner, and a well-known boat-builder. Their talk had reference to a new lugger the skipper had lately purchased, and the difficulty of finding hands to work her North. Here was the very chance for me.

As soon as they separated, I accosted the Pearler, and offered my services. When he heard my qualifications, he engaged me at once; and so it came about that next day I was a seaman aboard the _Crested Wave_, bound for Thursday Island and the Pearl fisheries.

I need not delay you while I enter upon any description of the voyage northwards, more than to say that we arrived safely at our destination, and having taken a diver aboard, at once set sail again, this time for the Solomons, where we remained cruising about, with fair success, for nigh upon three months.

Though I had, on several occasions, crossed the Pacific in deep-water ships, this was the first time I had pottered about among the Islands themselves, and the new life came to me as a revelation. Even as I sit here writing, the memory of those glorious lat.i.tudes rises and sends a thrill through me. There is a saying, that the man who has once known the Himalayas never forgets their smell; I say that the man who has once heard the thunder of the surf upon the reefs, who has smelt the sweet incense of the tropic woods, and felt the invigorating breath of the trade winds upon his cheek, can never rid his memory of the fascination of those Southern seas!

By the time we returned to Thursday Island a fair sum in wages was owing me, and I think I had won a good reputation with my skipper, for he was anxious that I should take a holiday, and then set sail with him again.