be a poor creature to take it, for the mishap was
caused by Ruth's folly, and that we boys were in no way to blame.

* * * * *

Almost every alternate evening Tom May would come to our house, and go
to Walter Trenfield's quarters, which were in a large airy loft over
our stable, and the two young men would dress and sew the skins of
the wallabies and 'possums which my brothers had shot. My mother never
objected to us staying with them till about ten o'clock, and Ruth, too,
often came and made coffee for us all. Both May and Trenfield always
behaved well and soberly, and although they had been whale-ship sailors
they were always very careful in their language when we were with them.
Some time before my mother's angry interview with Mr Sampson she had
mentioned, in his hearing, to Major Trenton's wife, that her boys were
greatly attached to the two young men, whose stories of their former
sea life were very exciting, and so forth, whereupon the clergyman said
sourly that both were dangerous villains who should not be trusted, and
she would do well to prevent the further intercourse of her children
with such rascals.

My mother bowed stiffly to him, and said gently that she thought he was
mistaken greatly in their characters; also she was well able to look
after her children's morals; but Mrs Trenton, a sharp-tongued old
Irishwoman, who hated the parson and loved my mother, spoke out pretty
plainly.

'No one but a clergyman would make such a rude speech to a lady, sir.
A man who _called_ himself a gentleman would be made to account for his
lack of manners.'

One Saturday afternoon, as Walter Trenfield and Ruth were driving the
cows down to the creek to drink, and Will and I were idling about on the
seaward hill, we saw Patrick Kenna ride up to the house, dismount and
knock. He only remained indoors a few minutes, and presently we saw him
galloping towards Trenfield and Ruth, with whom he stayed talking for
even a still shorter time; then, without taking any notice of us--which
was most unusual for him--he put spurs to his horse and rode straight
for the scrub, towards his home.

'There is something the matter,' said Will. 'See, there is Walter
running up to the house again. Come, let us see what it is.'

We ran home, and entering by the garden gate saw that Walter was talking
to my mother on the back verandah. She seemed very troubled and almost
on the verge of crying, and we soon h