In the peaceful water of Fremantle harbour, Mr. Wyville's yacht had lain at anchor for several months. On her return from Adelaide with Mr. Sheridan, she had taken on board a cargo, contained in large cases and swathings, which had arrived from Europe some time before. She also took on board many persons of both sexes, mostly mechanics and labourers, with their families; and among the crowd, but with airs of trust and supervision, as caretakers or stewards, were Mr. Haggett and Officer Lodge. Their friend Ngarra-jil had come on board to bid them good-by, and as he strode about the deck, naked, except his fur boka hanging from the shoulder, and carrying two long spears in his hand, he seemed a strange acquaintance for two persons so prosaic as Mr. Haggett and Ben Lodge.
This thought, indeed, occurred to both of them with renewed strength that day; and it was emphasized by the remark of one of the mechanics—
"That black fellow seems to know you pretty well;" addressed to Ben Lodge.
"Yes," said Ben, with hesitation, and a glance of doubt at Ngarra-jil, "we knew him in England. He was dressed fine there."
"Well," said the good-natured mechanic, "he's the same man still as he war theer. 'Tisn't clothes as we ought to vally in our friends."
This remark brightened Officer Lodge's face, and his hesitating manner towards his wild friend vanished. When the anchor was weighed, and the last visitor had jumped on the barges to go ashore, there were no warmer farewells spoken than those of Mr. Haggett and Ben Lodge to Ngarra-jil.
That evening, at Mr. Little's pleasant dinner-table, Mrs. Little spoke to Mr. Wyville about the destination of the passengers.
"They are going to settle in the Vasse district," he said; "they have purchased homesteads there."
"You have built extensively on your own land there, I believe," said Mr. Little.
A shadow, scarcely perceptible, flitted over Mr. Wyville's face; but his voice had its accustomed tone as he answered—
"Yes; I have worked out an old fancy as to the site and plan of a dwelling-house. But the building was not for myself. Mr. Sheridan has bought the place from me."
"Bless me!" said Mrs. Little, in a disappointed tone; "after sending scores of workmen and gardeners from Europe, and spending four years and heaps of money to make a lovely place, to go and sell it all, just when it was finished! I'm sure Mr. Sheridan might go and make some other place beautiful. It really is too provoking."
"Mrs. Little," said Hamerton, adroitly taking the good lady's attention from a subject which she was in danger of pursuing, "will you not direct me to some rare spot that is capable of beauty and hungry for improvement? I, too, am hunting for a home."
The lure was quite successful. Mrs. Little ran over in her mind all the pretty places she knew in the colony, and instructed Mr. Hamerton with much particularity and patience.
The further conversation of the evening touched no matter of importance to the persons present.
After some weeks the steamer returned to Fremantle, and lay at anchor for several months, except some pleasure-trips round the adjacent coast, arranged by Mrs. Little, and taking in many of the ladies of the colony.
Mr. Wyville was engaged every day in directing the operation of the new and humane law he had brought to the colony. At first, it seemed as if it must end in failure. Its worst enemies were those it proposed to serve. The convicts, as soon as they found the old rigour relaxed, and a word take the place of a blow; when they saw offences that used to earn five years in chains, punished by five minutes of reproach from a superintendent, or at worst, by a red stripe on the sleeve—when first they saw this, they took advantage of it, and shamefully abused their new privileges.
Among the officials of the convict service were many who watched this result with satisfied eyes—croakers, who always predict defeat, and a few envious and disappointed ones, who had lost some selfish chance by the change.
At last, it came to such a condition—the reports from the outlying districts were so alarming, and the croakers and mischief-makers became so bold in their criticism—that even the warmest friends of the new system held their breath in fear of something disastrous.
But through the gloom, there was one steadfast and reliant heart and hand. He who had planned the system had faith in it. He knew what its foundations were. When even the brave quailed, he still smiled; and though his face grew thin with anxious application, there was never a quiver of weakness, or hesitation in it.