We made for it. The
door of a cottage stood open. We entered. A fire was blazing on the
hearth, with a large damper baking under the ashes, and a huge teapot of
tea was steaming away on a table set out for a meal; while a joint of a
kangaroo was among the good things which gladdened our eyes.

"You may walk in, strangers, and welcome," said a rough-looking man, who
at that moment appeared from the back part of the cottage. "Here,
missus, I see you have supper ready, where are you?" His wife, a buxom
dame, came when called from an inner room, and welcomed us as her
husband had done. We were soon seated at the table, doing justice to
the kangaroo and damper. When our host and his wife heard that we had
lately arrived, they were eager for us to tell them all the news from
England, but what we had to say was not what they cared much to hear,
that was very evident. As I examined their countenances, I did not like
the expression they bore, nor warn the way they spoke altogether
satisfactory. I suspected, and I was right, that they were convicts.
At that time there were many of that class, who had already risen to
considerable wealth, in the colony.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

OUR JOURNEY INLAND.

Although, as I have said, the faces of our host and hostess did not
please me, and indeed gave me some disquietude, they both made
themselves so pleasant, and were so civil and hospitable, that I could
not help feeling it was ungrateful for me to harbour hard thoughts of
them. While we were still at the table, a man came in and took his seat
opposite to me. I supposed that he was living in the house, at all
events that he was expected. He eyed me very hard, and then went on
eating his supper. At last Charley White addressed me as Mr Biddulph,
though he generally called me father. Immediately the stranger started
up, and coming round to me and taking my hand, exclaimed, "Why, Mr
Biddulph, I thought that I knew your face, but I little expected to see
you out here." When he spoke I recognised a man to whom I had once
rendered a considerable service. He was in debt. I gave him a sum of
money to save him from prison, and he promised to repay me. Before he
did so he disappeared, and I did not expect to receive a farthing, but
on two occasions small amounts were sent to me, which I knew came from
him, though the larger portion still remained unpaid.

"I hope that you are doing well, Jacob," said I, not thinking of the
deb