then lighting our pipes, turned in, and after a brief review of the
events of the day, sank into a deep sleep.

CHAPTER XVIII.

LARGE FIRE IN MELBOURNE.--ENGLISH MACHINES AT FAULT.

I know not what the others were dreaming about, but I imagined myself
standing by a pile of brush and branches, on which was placed the dead
bodies of Black Darnley and his gang, and I thought that I had just
applied a match to the dry wood, and that the flames were soaring
heavenward, filling the sky with a luminous, blood-red color, and that
the corpses, as the fire licked their bodies, began shouting, in
derisive tones, for more fuel, when a hand was laid upon my shoulder,
and my dreams vanished in an instant. I sprang to my feet, and even then
but half awake, I reached for my revolver, and tried to recollect where
I was, and how I came there. The room, was as light as day, and through
the single window streamed the glare of such a fire as I had seen in my
dream.

I could hear the roaring of the flames, and a shouting of voices afar
off; and an old cracked bell, upon a church a short distance off, was
laboring hard to start into life the sleepers of the city.

"The city is on fire!" cried Smith, giving me another shake to awaken me
into consciousness; "all Collins Street appears to be in a bright
blaze."

"Wake Fred, and we will go and lend what assistance we can," I replied,
thoroughly aroused.

While Smith proceeded to do so, I stepped to the door, and surveyed the
scene, which was grand in the extreme; and I felt my blood course
through my veins wildly, as old recollections of volunteer service were
brought back, when gentlemen of the utmost respectability petitioned for
admittance to our organization.

That fire was like the blast of a trumpet, and all the old feelings,
which had lain dormant for many years, were revived, and I wished that I
had an engine and a brave company, to rush to the rescue. While I stood
surveying the flames, I was joined by Fred, an old fireman like myself,
but cooler, and not so impulsive.

"Do you see!" I exclaimed; "half of the city appears to be in flames,
and I do not hear the working of an engine. Let us hasten, and render
what assistance is possible."

"Where are your engine houses?" asked Fred, turning to Smith, who
appeared to be remarkably cool and unconcerned.

"That's more than I can tell, and I don't believe that even the captain
of police can find one, try he ever so hard,"