ightness of conduct should be rewarded, the
Gilpins richly deserved their success. Sam Green, too, had followed his
young master's example, and had taken to himself as a wife the eldest
daughter of his old acquaintance, Sykes, the former coachman of Mr
Henry Prentiss, who had followed his master into the country, and
settled near him. Larry Killock won the heart of another daughter; but,
although Mr Sykes had himself come out at the Government expense, he
objected to the alliance, because Larry was not yet entirely a free man.
Larry was, however, able to prove that his crime was having joined some
popular outbreak; and being at length freed completely from bondage, his
wishes were no longer opposed, and he settled down near the friends to
whom he had, with good reason, become so warmly attached.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Some time had passed since the events just mentioned. It was winter,
not Christmas, however, but the period which in England is considered
the warmest and sunniest in the year. Frost and snow are not looked
for, but the wind blows from the cold south, and rain comes down in
plentiful showers, filling the water-holes, and turning the sluggish
streams into roaring torrents.

One evening, as Arthur and Willie were riding homewards from a distant
station, their course not far from the Warragong river, a cry reached
their ears.

"It is some one shouting for help!" exclaimed Arthur. "From what
direction does it come? Listen!"

"From up the stream!" cried Willie, spurring on his horse.

"Stay! there's a man in the river," said Arthur; "he is floating down.
We may pass him if we don't take care."

They rode directly down to the bank of the now rapid river. Every
stockman rides with a rope attached to his saddle. They looked out
anxiously as they now rode up the stream. Again the cry was heard, but
fainter though near; and through the thickening gloom of evening a man
was seen clinging to a log, which was borne swiftly down the current.
He had lost all power of guiding it, and from the way his head hung
down, it was evident that his strength was exhausted, and that he must
soon drop off and sink. To leap from their horses and to secure them to
a tree was the work of a moment.

"Here, hold one end, Willie! I think I can reach him!" cried Arthur,
binding the two ropes together, and fastening one end round his own
waist.

Throwing off his coat, and without waiting for any expostulation from
Willie