was?" inquired the old mate indignantly; "I wasn't in
charge of the girl, was I? But what has given me such a smack in the
face is this, Tom; about a month after she was married I got a letter
from Barry telling me all about his adventures--and damned queer
adventures they are--and enclosing one to Miss Maynard."

"What did you do with it, Sam?"

"Posted it to her--to 'Mrs. Maclean, Carabella Villa, Darling Point,'
and I got this," said Watson furiously, hauling another letter out of
his pocket and reading it to his friend:--

"'Mrs. Maclean thanks Mr. Samuel Watson for his kind note and the
letter enclosed received yesterday. In reply to Mr. Watson's
sympathetic remarks concerning Mrs. Maclean's father's health, Mrs.
Maclean is sorry to say that there is no improvement. Colonel Maclean
wishes Mr. Samuel Watson to understand that the letter enclosed to his
wife requires no answer.'"

Craig grinned. "That's the correct kind of letter to write to excuse a
dirty trick, Sam. It's got the true, rotten, swell twang about it."

The old mate sighed. "Maybe, Tom, maybe. But I don't believe she
wrote it naturally--from her heart, like. I believe that her husband
made her write it. He has a cold, hard face, and she's but little more
than a child. But it's hard on this young fellow."

"It is hard, Sam. But there's lots o' women in the world, and I
daresay he'll find another just as good before a month o' Sundays.
Come, buck up, old man; what'll you have? Same again?"

"No more for me, Tom; I'm off aboard to see him. And I feel as if I
was a blarsted sheriff telling a man that he was to be hung."

Craig slapped his friend on the back as they rose from their seats.
"He'll get over it, Sam, never fear. When the heart is young, as the
Bible says, it doesn't care a damn for anybody. And if he's getting
good money he'll soon forget all about the girl; for he'll see plenty
more just as good as her. Anyway that's my experience, Sam."

Bidding his friend good-bye, Watson, with a gloomy brow, walked to the
Circular Quay and hired a water-man to take him down the harbour to the
_Mahina_.

"There she is, sir, over there in Neutral Bay," said the boatman as he
rounded Fort Macquarie.

Half an hour's pull brought them alongside, and the old man jumping on
deck at once made his way into the cabin. Barry was seated at the
table, getting his papers ready and waiting for Mrs. Tracey.

Springing to his feet he gras