moment's hesitation, he accompanied me to the Bank, whereeverything was satisfactorily arranged. Instead of drawing out thedeposit, I added to it, by paying in an additional sum--consisting ofthe gold I had gathered in Australia. My only object in troublingmyself about it at the time, was to make sure that the gold I hadforwarded from California had arrived safely, and was otherwise "allright."
Before parting with Captain Nowell, he requested to know why I had notgone to his house to see him sooner.
"Your coming to-day," he said, "was not a visit; and I shan't take it assuch. You only came to trouble me on business for which you needed me,or probably I should not have seen you at all. You must pay me aregular visit. Come to-morrow; or any time that best suits yourconvenience. You know my style at sea? You'll find me just the sameashore. Don't forget that I've something to show you--something you hadbetter have a look at, before you choose elsewhere."
I gave the kind-hearted Captain my promise to call upon him--though notfrom any inclination to be assisted by him in the way he seemed to wish.The finding a wife was a thing that was far--very far from my thoughts.
Several days had elapsed after my interview with Captain Nowell; andeach day I was becoming more discontented, with the life I was leadingin London. My brother, his wife, and Mrs Morell, were very kind to me;and strove to make me as happy as possible. But much of their time wastaken up in paying visits, or spent in amusements, in which I could feelno interest. I soon found that to be contented, it would be necessaryfor me, either to take an active part in the busy scenes of life, or bein possession of great domestic happiness. The latter I could neverexpect to attain; and London appeared to present no employment so wellsuited to my disposition and habits, as that I had followed upon thegold-fields.
I might have passed some of my time very pleasantly in the company ofCaptain Nowell; but I was prevented from availing myself of thatpleasure--even of paying my promised visit to him--by the very thingthat might otherwise have attracted me. I had no desire to form theacquaintance of the young lady, he had spoken of; and for me to call athis house might give occasion for him, as well as others, to thinkdifferently.
I admit that I may have been over-scrupulous in this matter: sinceCaptain Nowell and I had become fast, and intimate friends. But fromwhat he had already said, I could not visit the young lady, and remainindifferent to her, without the conclusion being come to, that I thoughther unworthy of my regard, and that, after seeing, I had formed anunfavourable opinion of her. It may have been silliness on my part;allowing such a thought to prevent my visiting a friend; but, as I hadnot come to London wife-hunting, I did not desire others to think that Ihad. To me, matrimony was no more a pleasant subject forcontemplation--especially when it referred to myself--and the few words,spoken to me by the captain on that theme, had been sufficient to defeatthe only object he probably had any particular wish to attain: that Ishould call upon him and partake of his hospitality.
About a month after our arrival in London, I inquired at the GeneralPost Office for letters from Australia; and had the pleasure ofreceiving two. One was from Olliphant, the other from my sister.Martha's was a true woman's letter: that could be read once by therecipient, and then easily forgotten. It was full of kind words for allof us in London; but the only information to be obtained from it was,that she thought well of everybody, and was herself exceedingly happy.
Perhaps I was more gratified with the contents of Olliphant's letter,from which I select the following extract:--
"On our return to Sydney, I learnt that my father had just got back froma visit to England--which he had long before determined on making. Iwas very anxious to see him, in the hope that we might become friendsagain; but, knowing that the first advances towards a reconciliationmust come from himself, I would not go to him. I could not think ofacknowledging myself sorry, for having done that which I knew to beright. The only step I could make, towards the accomplishment of mywishes, was to put myself in communication with a mutual friend; and lethim know that I had returned to Sydney. I did not omit to add, that Ihad returned from the diggings with a full purse: for I knew that thiswould also be communicated to my father, and might have some effect uponhim of a favourable character.
"It appeared as if I had not been mistaken. Three days after, thegovernor called at the hotel where I was staying; and met me as a fathershould meet a son, whom he has not seen for more than three years. Iwas no little surprised at the turn things had taken: for, knowing theold gentleman's obstinate disposition, I did not expect a settlementeither so prompt, or satisfactory. I presumed it would take some timeand trouble, to get on good terms with him again.
"He seemed greatly pleased with Martha's appearance; and they becamefast friends all at once.
"`I like the look of you,' said he to her, `and am willing to believethat you are worthy of Alex; and that is saying a good deal for you.Ah, my son,' continued he, addressing himself to me, `had you broughthome your London cousin for a wife--as I commanded you to do--shouldcertainly have horsewhipped you on your return. When I came to see herin London, I soon changed my mind about her. She is nothing but an uglysilly fool; and too conceited to know it. I admire your spirit fordisobeying orders, and marrying a girl, whom I am not ashamed toacknowledge as my daughter.'
"We shall leave town to-morrow for my father's station; and the onlything we require now to make us perfectly happy, is the company ofyourself, William and his wife, I hope that after you have tried the`Old Country' for a few weeks, you will believe, as I do, that it isonly a place for flunkeys and snobs; and that every young man ofenterprise and energy should come out here, where life can be spent tosome purpose--worthy of the toil that all ought to endure. I shallexpect to see you in Sydney within the next year."
There was a strong suspicion in my mind, that "The Elephant" was right,in believing I would soon return to the colonies. Why should I remainin London? I could be nothing there. It was different with my brother.He might now be happy anywhere. He only wanted a spot, where he mighttranquilly await his final departure from the world, while I was aRolling Stone that must roll on--or be miserable.
The more consideration I gave to the circumstance, the more determineddid I become to part from London: and go to some land, where youth andhealth were worth possessing. I could feel that the blessings, Naturehad bestowed on me were not worth much in London, where men are enslavedby customs and laws that subject the million to the dominion of the few.I determined, therefore, on going, where I should be regarded as theequal of those around me, where there was room for me to move, withoutthe danger of being crushed by a crowd of self-sufficient creatures--most of whom were in reality more insignificant than myself. I shouldjoin "The Elephant" in New South Wales; and perhaps become a man of someinfluence in a land where the sun is to be seen every day.
I at this time regretted, that I had ever been a Rolling Stone. Ibelieved that a man may be happier who has never wandered from home tolearn lessons of discontent, and become the slave of desires, that inone place can never be gratified. Each spot of earth has its peculiaradvantages, and is in some respects superior to all others. Bywandering in many lands, and partaking of their respective pleasures, webecome imbued with many desires to which we look back with regret whenthey can no longer be gratified. After residing in a tropical climate,who can encounter the chilling blasts of a northern winter, withoutlonging:
"For green verandahs hung with flowers, For marble founts, and orange bowers?"
And when nearly cooked by the scorching sun--when tortured at every turnby reptiles, and maddened by the worry of winged insects--we sigh forthe bracing breezes of a northern clime, and the social joys of thehomes which are there found--a happiness such as my brother might now bepermitted to enjoy, but which was for ever denied to me.
With such reflections constantly passing through my mind, I felt thatLondon, large as it was, could not contain me much longer; and I onlywaited, until some slight turning of Fortune's wheel woul
d bestir me tomake a fresh start for the Antipodes.
Volume Three, Chapter XXIV.
OLD ACQUAINTANCES.
One day, while riding inside a "bus" along the Strand, and gazing outthrough the slides, I amused myself by looking at the "fares" seatedupon the "knife-board," or rather their images, reflected in theplate-glass windows of the shops in front of which we were passing.
While thus engaged, my attention became more especially fixed upon oneof my fellow passengers so reflected; and, on continuing my second-handscrutiny, I became convinced that an old acquaintance was directly overmy head. I requested the conductor to stop the "bus," and, upon hisdoing so, I got out, and climbed to the top of it. On raising my eyesto a level with the roof, I saw that I had not been mistaken. Cannon,whom I had last seen in Melbourne, was one of the row of