consequence, he was allowed a parole, and entered the service of the man
who owns the vast flock of sheep which you see before you. He has grown
morose since he has led a solitary life, and if he answers questions at
all, it is in monosyllables. But do not treat him as if you knew for
what he was transported."

The latter part of Smith's remarks were spoken hurriedly, and in a low
tone, for we were close to the unfortunate man when they were uttered,
and he feared to be overheard.

I looked at the stockman with singular interest as we approached him. He
was, apparently, about fifty years of age, thin and slightly inclined to
stoop. His face was strongly marked and peculiar, and at one time he
must have passed for an exceedingly good-looking man.

His hair, which was quite white, gave him a venerable appearance; while
a long, flowing beard of jet black, combed, and carefully trimmed,
reminded me of a distinguished minister that I had once listened to, and
whose sermon made an impression upon my mind that has never been
effaced.

The stockman retained his defensive attitude, until he recognized the
features of Smith, when his gun was rested against the side of the hut,
and he once more dropped his head upon his breast, and with folded arms
awaited our coming.

"Well!" cried Smith, with assured cheerfulness; "how do you get along
nowadays?"

The stockman raised his head, and looked at the questioner as though
referring him to his face, with its wrinkles and lines of care, for an
answer. A moment after, his head was bowed upon his breast again, and he
appeared unconscious that we were present.

"Have you seen Darnley's band lately?" Smith inquired.

"Yes," replied the stockman, still retaining his position.

"Has he visited you within the past few days?" queried Smith.

"Yes," replied the man.

"Ah, his supply of provisions was short," cried Smith, as his eyes
sought the flocks as though wondering how many sheep satisfied the
bushranger and his gang.

The stockman returned no answer, so we passed him and entered his hut.
There were two bedsteads made of hides, a table, two rough chairs, that
looked as though introduced during the days of Sir Francis Drake, a few
pans hanging against the wall, an old chest with a broken lid and no
lock, and these were all the articles of luxury or convenience that
graced the cabin of the stockman.

Smith pointed out the spot where Darnley had slept on the night of his
visi