by in this matter. I should like
to help you; come and draw a cheque for twenty thousand pounds."'

That cheque was drawn, and South Africa extracted from a grave social
difficulty. The emigrants became an admirable settlement, and most
honourably made good the outlay which they had occasioned. 'It wasn't
banking, it wasn't business, that cheque,' Sir George was bantered long
years after; 'but perhaps it was better.'

'Ah!' he laughed back, 'I'm benefiting myself now, for it seems that I
returned thirty-eight shillings more than was due, and that therefore I
have a balance to draw upon.'

XIII OCEANA AND THE PROPHETESS

Sir George Grey rode hard and far over the South African karoo, serving
the Queen's writ in letters of gold. When he rode late, and the stars
were ablaze, his saddle held a dreamer in dreamland.

What a lightsome new world! The sun had bathed it in the day; night
brought another radiance. Here was the emblem of all the New World should
be to the Old. Not yet, perhaps, in the full, for there were things to
do, but soon, when the outposts of empire, stretching to Australia, New
Zealand, and beyond, had come into their own. Yes, those glorious stars
overhead were only meant to shine on a New World reflecting their
brightness!

One winked, and Sir George smiled. Sir John Herschel had visited the
Cape to fix the southern stars. The recollection carried Sir George Grey
to the astronomer's part in quite a different affair. He had the tale
from Herschel himself, and classed it with the somewhat relative
incidents of Carlyle and Babbage. It was worse for the victim.

'Nevertheless,' said Sir George, 'his statement of it to me, was marked
by much humour and enjoyment. It was the third example of my great men
coming to grief through their tailor; anyhow, there lay a contributory
cause. One might have moralised to Herschel on the subject of genius and
clothes; I did better, I sympathised.

'Sir John, who was living near Windsor, had been up in London, and was to
return home for dinner. It occurred to him that he might call somewhere
in town, about certain magnetic instruments that were being made for him,
and still reach Windsor by the dinner hour. So he set off to the place,
carrying in his hand certain small parcels, the contents of which were
probably intended for the dinner. Remembering his quaint figure, I
confess I would have given something to see him scudding along the London
streets on tha