boy: they didn't teach you at school to be quick."

"Hush! you'll wake Lady O'Hara," protested the boy.

"I should be puzzled to," replied his father shortly. "Come in here."

"In here" meant the dining-room, where the first person he saw, by the
light of the candles standing on the white breakfast-cloth, was their
hostess.

Nic was quite awake now, and the last trace of ill-temper passed away as
he shook hands.

"I did not expect to see you this morning," he said.

"And did you think I was going to let old friends start without a
comfortable breakfast? Why, it will be days, boy, before you get
another."

"Days?" said Nic.

"To be sure, boy. There is no stage coach for you, and you'll have to
keep with your waggon. These bullocks go about two miles an hour."

This was news to Nic, who had been imbued with some kind of notion that
he was going to get home that same evening, and that was why his father
had started so early.

Sir John entered the room directly after, and the meal was just as if it
had been nine o'clock instead of four in the morning; so that the
travellers were well prepared, when the doctor rose, to say good-bye,
for the cracking of a stock whip and sundry ejaculations and apostrophes
to the bullocks to "come on," and "get over," and "pull," were heard
outside, where a couple of horses freshly brought round were stamping
and pawing the dust, impatient to be off.

The dogs were hurried round from the stables--these being the two
collies intended for the doctor--and after many frantic dashes at the
horses, they were taken forward toward the waggon, where the bullocks
were immediately driven into a state of commotion, and faced round to
lower their horns and receive their enemies.

Finally, however, the two excited animals were safely chained to the
back of the waggon, which started at once with a great deal of whip
cracking and shouting on the part of Brookes, his fellow, Leather, being
perfectly silent, and the black nowhere to be seen.

This start having been accomplished, the doctor returned with his son to
say their final farewells to the governor and his lady.

"There, good-bye, Nic," cried the latter; "it's only a little way off
you live. We think nothing of a few hundred miles here, and we shall be
coming to see you, or you will us before very long. Are you a good
horseman? That's a spirity-looking thing I see you're to ride."

Nic was nonplussed, and his father came to his h