nd liquor."

It was lucky for the utterer of this remark that it remained unheard by
the object thereof, otherwise we fear that, even in the middle of that
bustling pavement, a vigorous application of shoe-leather might have
awakened Master Harry most painfully to the fact that it had been
overheard. Gerard, however, had resumed his way, sad and bitter of
heart; for he was young yet, and had not even begun to learn to take the
insincerity and ingratitude of so-called friends as a matter of course.
He only remembered how glad the other had been to get under his wing, so
to say, when they had first landed. Thrown upon their own resources,
strangers in a strange land, he it was who had taken the initiative;
upon him had all the managing and thinking devolved. Harry Maitland had
been glad of his company then, so glad of it indeed that he had even
made some sacrifice of his own comfort rather than cut himself adrift
from it. Now he hardly condescended to know him. Well, it was only one
more lesson out of the volume of the world's hard and flinty teaching;
but, as we said, Gerard was still very young, and the lesson was bitter.

He gained the auction-room. A sale of miscellaneous articles was in
full swing, and bidding was brisk. While waiting till it should be over
and he could speak to the auctioneer, he amused himself watching the
competing groups as well as those--far the greater number--who were only
there to look on; for in a colonial town a public sale of whatever kind
draws a crowd of loungers of every description as surely as a
store-cupboard draws flies in hot weather. Bronzed and bearded
stock-farmers and transport-riders, alert-looking townsmen, a sprinkling
of Indian coolies, turbaned and deferential, but none the less intent,
in their own quiet, half-shy manner, upon getting their money's worth
for their money, all clustered and crowded around the tables, more or
less eagerly bidding, or keeping up a running fire of chaff with the
auctioneer. Watching this mass of diversified humanity, Gerald was
conscious of the descent of a friendly hand upon his shoulder, and a
friendly voice at his ear.

"Ridgeley--isn't it?"

With a start of surprise, he turned, to find himself face to face with
the sun-tanned lineaments and corduroy-clad form of John Dawes.

"Thought we'd meet again some day," said the latter, grasping the hand
which Gerard delightedly put forth. "Small world after all. How has it
been usin