f to himself, and half to his companion,
"that's a sum of money to lose, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" asked the convict, without turning his face.

"Mean! Why, my good fellow, I should have been left a quarter of a
million of money, but the old hunks who was going to give it to me died
before he could alter his will, and every shilling went to a scapegrace
son, who hadn't been near the old man for years. That's the way of the
world, isn't it?"

Rufus Dawes, still keeping his face away, caught his breath as if in
astonishment, and then, recovering himself, he said in a harsh voice, "A
fortunate fellow--that son!"

"Fortunate!" cries Frere, with another oath. "Oh yes, he was fortunate!
He was burnt to death in the Hydaspes, and never heard of his luck. His
mother has got the money, though. I never saw a shilling of it." And
then, seemingly displeased with himself for having allowed his tongue
to get the better of his dignity, he walked away to the fire, musing,
doubtless, on the difference between Maurice Frere, with a quarter of a
million, disporting himself in the best society that could be procured,
with command of dog-carts, prize-fighters, and gamecocks galore; and
Maurice Frere, a penniless lieutenant, marooned on the barren coast of
Macquarie Harbour, and acting as boat-builder to a runaway convict.

Rufus Dawes was also lost in reverie. He leant upon the gunwale of
the much-vaunted boat, and his eyes were fixed upon the sea, weltering
golden in the sunset, but it was evident that he saw nothing of the
scene before him. Struck dumb by the sudden intelligence of his fortune,
his imagination escaped from his control, and fled away to those
scenes which he had striven so vainly to forget. He was looking far
away--across the glittering harbour and the wide sea beyond it--looking
at the old house at Hampstead, with its well-remembered gloomy garden.
He pictured himself escaped from this present peril, and freed from the
sordid thraldom which so long had held him. He saw himself returning,
with some plausible story of his wanderings, to take possession of the
wealth which was his--saw himself living once more, rich, free, and
respected, in the world from which he had been so long an exile. He saw
his mother's sweet pale face, the light of a happy home circle. He saw
himself--received with tears of joy and marvelling affection--entering
into this home circle as one risen from the dead. A new life opened
radiant be