is," rejoined he, "William Stone."
"Then we are brothers!"
"You are the Rolling Stone!" exclaimed Bill, grasping my hand. "Howstrange that I did not ask the question, when I first heard you calledRowland!"
The excitement caused by our mutual recognition, was of the mostpleasurable character; and, for some moments after the first words, weboth remained speechless.
`The Elephant' was nearly as much astonished as ourselves, at thediscovery thus made. "What a fool I've been," said he, "not to haveseen long ago that you were brothers. If ever there were two brothers,I could swear that you two were the pair. I have been blind not to havetold you before--what you have at last found out for yourselves."
We had no time to do more than exchange mutual congratulations: for thestage coach was about to start. I immediately paid for a seat; and setoff along with them for Geelong. At the moment, I had along with me allthe gold I had gathered. I had brought it out, for the purpose oftaking it to the Escort Office--as soon as I should bid adieu to myfriends. There was nothing else of much importance to detain me inBallarat; and I parted from the place at less than a moment's notice.
My brother and I found plenty of employment for our tongues, whilemaking the journey to Melbourne.
I asked him, if he had been aware of our mother's having followed MrLeary to Australia.
"Yes," said he, "I knew, when she left me in Liverpool, that she wasgoing to follow the brute out there; and I concluded she had done so."
"And have you never thought of trying to find her, while you were inSydney?"
"No," said my brother, in a tone of solemnity, "when she deserted me inLiverpool, to go after that wretch, I felt that I had lost a mother; andit is my belief, that a mother once lost is never found again."
"But did it not occur to you that you should have tried to find Martha?Do you intend leaving the colonies without making some effort todiscover our sister?"
"Poor little Martha!" exclaimed William, "she was a dear little child.I would, indeed, like to see her again. Suppose we both try to findher? I do not believe that if we discover her, we need have any fear ofbeing ashamed of her. She was once a little angel; and I am sure shewill be a good girl, wherever she is--Oh! I should like to see Marthaonce more; but to tell the truth Rowland, I do not care for ever seeingmother again!"
I then informed my brother, that his wishes might yet be gratified; and,as we continued our journey, I gave him a detailed history of theaffairs of the family--so far as I was myself acquainted with them.
It was by no means an agreeable mode of transit, travelling by stagecoach in the state the roads of Victoria were at the time, yet that wasthe happiest day I had ever passed in the colony. William and I kept upour conversation all day long. We had hardly a word for our companion,Olliphant; and we were under the necessity of apologising to him.
"Don't mention it," said the good-hearted Elephant. "I am as happy aseither of you. You are two fellows of the right sort; and I'm glad youhave found each other."
On our arrival in Melbourne, we all went together to the Union Hotel.After engaging rooms, we proceeded to the purchase of some clothes--inorder that we might make a respectable appearance in the streets of thecity. My brother was in breathless haste to get himself rigged out; andwe knew his reason. He intended to spend the evening in the society ofhis future wife and her mother.
At an early hour in the afternoon, he took leave of us.
Olliphant and I were compelled to kill the time the best way we could;but the trouble of doing so was not great: since there are but fewcities of equal size with Melbourne, where so much time and money aredevoted to the purpose of amusement.
Next day, I accepted an invitation from my brother, to accompany him ona visit to his sweetheart. She and her mother were living in a smallhouse in Collingwood. When we arrived at the door, it was opened by arather delicate ladylike woman, about forty years of age. She receivedmy brother with a pleasant smile; and I was introduced to Mrs Morell.
The young lady soon made her appearance, from an adjoining room; and,after greeting my brother in a manner that gave me gratification towitness, I was introduced to her.
Sarah Morell was, what might have been called by any one, a pretty girl.She had not the beauty of my lost Lenore, nor was she perhaps even asbeautiful as my sister Martha; but there was a sweet expression in herfeatures, a charm in her smile, and a music in her gentle voice, thatwere all equally attractive; and I could not help thinking, that mybrother had made choice of a woman worthy of his honest and confidinglove.
She talked but little, during the interview--allowing most of theconversation to be carried on by her mother; but, from the little shedid say; and the glance of her eyes--as she fixed them on the manly formof my brother--I could tell that he was beloved.
By that glance, I could read pride and reverence for the man upon whomshe had bestowed her heart; and that she felt for him that affection Ionce hoped to win from Lenore.
How superior was my brother's fate to mine! He was beloved by the onehe loved. He was in her presence; and they were soon to be man andwife. He was happy--happy as youth can be, when blessed with hope,love, wealth, and health. I was happy also; but it consisted only inseeing others blessed with the happiness, which I was myself denied.
After passing some hours in the cheerful companionship, of Mrs and MissMorell, my brother and I returned to our hotel--where we found `TheElephant' in a very unamiable mood. He had just ascertained, that hewould have to stay three days longer in Melbourne: as there was nosteamer to start for Sydney before the third day from that time.
After a council held between my brother and myself, it was resolved thatI should go on to Sydney with the Elephant; and try to induce our sisterMartha to accompany me back to Melbourne. The pleasure of meeting along-lost brother, and of being present at his wedding, we hoped, wouldbe sufficient inducement to cause her to change her resolution, andconsent to live with relatives, who were only too anxious to support andprotect her.
Since William had been told of our mother's death, he appeared to takemuch more interest in Martha's welfare; and urged upon me, not to comeback to Melbourne, without bringing her along with me. We could not, hesaid, feel happy, returning to England, and leaving our sister alone inthe colonies.
I promised to use every effort in the accomplishment of his wishes--which, of course, were but the echoes of my own.
Miss Morell, on hearing that her lover had a sister in Sydney, insistedon the marriage being postponed, until Martha should arrive.
"I am willing to be married the very day your sister comes," said she,adding in her artless manner, "I shall wait with great impatience untilI have seen her."
It is hardly necessary to say, that these conditions redoubled William'sanxiety for the speedy arrival of our sister; and, before taking leaveof him, I was compelled to make a most emphatic promise of a speedyreturn. Olliphant, without knowing the object of my visit to Sydney,was gratified to hear that we were to continue our travellingcompanionship still further; and in joyous spirits we stepped aboard thesteamer bound to that place.
Volume Three, Chapter XIX.
A MILLINER'S YARN.
The Melbourne steamer made the port of Sydney, at a late hour of thenight. On landing, we proceeded direct to a hotel, where, after somedifficulty, we obtained accommodation for the night.
In the morning, after eating our breakfast--which in Sydney is the mostimportant meal of the day--my companion and I walked out into thestreets. We soon parted company--each taking a different direction,since each had his own affairs to attend to.
I proceeded direct to the house where I had left my sister, two yearsbefore. I was both surprised, and disappointed, at not finding herthere; and perceiving that the house was no longer a milliner's shop.
I inquired for the people who formerly occupied the premises; but couldlearn nothing of them.
"I am justly served," thought I, "I should have corresponded with my
sister; and this disappointment could not have happened."
My relatives had been lost to me once. That should have been a warning.I should have taken precautions against a recurrence of thismisfortune. Instead of doing so, I had led Martha to believe, that Ihad gone back to England; and during my absence had never written toher. I now perceived how foolishly I had acted; and felt as if Ideserved never to see my sister again.
I should have been more deeply aggrieved by my conduct, but that I stillentertained the hope of being able to find her.
Sydney was not a large city; and if my sister was still within itslimits, there was no reason why I should not discover her whereabouts--especially with the energy and perseverance I determined to make use ofin the search.
This search I lost no time in instituting. I turned into the nextstreet--though rather mechanically than otherwise: for I was