f recall.

During King's period of office there were, besides the Irish rebels, many
prisoners whose names are famous, or infamous, in story. Pickpocket George
Barrington, who came out in Governor Phillip's time, once the Beau Brummel
of his branch of rascality, had settled down into a respectable settler,
and was in King's government, superintendent of convicts, at L50 a year
wages. Sir Henry Browne Hayes, at one time sheriff of Cork city, was sent
out for life in King's time for abducting a rich Quaker girl; he was
pardoned, and returned to England in 1812, leaving behind him a fine
residence which he had built for himself, and which [Sidenote: 1808]
is still one of the beauty spots at the entrance of Sydney harbour.

Margarot, one of the "Scotch martyrs," also fell foul of King, who sent
him to Hobart for seditious practices. The governor seems to have punished
Scotch and Irish pretty impartially, for Hayes and Margarot were coupled
together as disturbing characters and both sent away.

The "martyrs," it will perhaps be remembered, were Muir, Palmer, Skirving,
Gerald, and Margarot, transported at Edinburgh for libelling the
Government in August, 1793, and most harshly dealt with, as everyone
nowadays admits.

King was a Cornishman, a native of Launceston. When he went home in 1790
he married a Miss Coombes, of Bedford. By this lady he had several
children. The eldest of them, born at Norfolk Island in 1791, he named
Phillip Parker, after his old chief. This youngster was sent into the navy
to follow his father's footsteps, and in a later chapter of this book he
will be heard of again.

The ex-governor wrote in September, 1808, a letter from Bath.

"As this letter may probably reach you before you sail, I just
write to say that I came here on Tuesday with Mr. Etheridge, on
his return to London, merely to see Admiral Phillip, whom I found
much better than I possibly could expect from the reports I had
heard, although he is quite a cripple, having lost the entire use
of his right side, though his intellects are very good, and his
spirits are as they always were."

This letter was to the boy Phillip, then a year-old sailor, on the eve of
his departure on a cruise in the Channel. Seven days later the writer had
slipped his moorings, and years earlier than his old comrade had "gone
before to that unknown and silent shore."

CHAPTER VIII.

BASS AND FLINDERS

The details