pennyweights of gold-dust
in any one day; and never once struck pick into nugget, big or little,
though we had the mortification of inspecting the "mammoth masses" of
which we found the papers full on landing, and which had brought the
gold-fever to its height during our very voyage. With me, however, as
with many a young fellow who had turned his back on better things, the
malady was short-lived. We expected to make our fortunes out of hand,
and we had reckoned without the vermin and the villainy which rendered
us more than ever impatient of delay. In my fly-blown blankets I dreamt
of London until I hankered after my chambers and my club more than after
much fine gold. Never shall I forget my first hot bath on getting back
to Melbourne; it cost five shillings, but it was worth five pounds, and
is altogether my pleasantest reminiscence of Australia.

There was, however, one slice of luck in store for me. I found the dear
old Lady Jermyn on the very eve of sailing, with a new captain, a new
crew, a handful of passengers (chiefly steerage), and nominally no cargo
at all. I felt none the less at home when I stepped over her familiar
side.

In the cuddy we were only five, but a more uneven quintette I defy you
to convene. There was a young fellow named Ready, packed out for
his health, and hurrying home to die among friends. There was an
outrageously lucky digger, another invalid, for he would drink nothing
but champagne with every meal and at any minute of the day, and I have
seen him pitch raw gold at the sea-birds by the hour together. Miss
Denison was our only lady, and her step-father, with whom she was
travelling, was the one man of distinction on board. He was a Portuguese
of sixty or thereabouts, Senhor Joaquin Santos by name; at first it was
incredible to me that he had no title, so noble was his bearing; but
very soon I realized that he was one of those to whom adventitious
honors can add no lustre. He treated Miss Denison as no parent ever
treated a child, with a gallantry and a courtliness quite beautiful to
watch, and not a little touching in the light of the circumstances under
which they were travelling together. The girl had gone straight from
school to her step-father's estate on the Zambesi, where, a few months
later, her mother had died of the malaria. Unable to endure the place
after his wife's death, Senhor Santos had taken ship to Victoria, there
to seek fresh fortune with results as indifferent as m