lf-past two that afternoon Dick Haddon, in his capacity of
faithful squire to the two lovers, visited the mine hot-foot, with news
for his friend. Harry was below, but he hastened to answer the boy's
message. He had dreamed of a sudden repentance on his sweetheart's part,
and his heart beat fast as Dick beckoned him away from McKnight, who was
at the windlass.

'She's gone away,' said the boy eagerly.

'Chris away? Where's she gone?'

'She's goin' to Melbourne--going fer years an' years. Mr. Summers is
drivin' her into Yarraman now. She left a letter for you with mother.
Thought I'd come an' tell you, 'case you might want to go after her.'

'Gone for good!' This possibility had not occurred to the young man. 'She
left a letter for me? Are you sure it's for me?'

'Yes, yes; mother's got it. If I was you I'd get it at once; an'
I'd--I'd--' Dick was much more excited than Harry; he was eager to spur
his friend to action.

'How long have they been gone?' asked Harry, as he hastened towards the
township. He felt that this was a crisis, that action was called for, but
the news had confused him. He was fighting with the fear that she was
taking this course to avoid him for the reason that his connection with
her misfortunes had made him hateful to her. He burned to read her
letter, but he had no mind for heroic schemes or projects.

'On'y about a quarter of an hour,' said Dick in answer to his question.
'They can't've gone far.'

'You're sure she was going to. Melbourne--going for good?'

'Certain sure--heard her tell mum.'

Mrs. Haddon was standing at the door when they reached the house, and
Harry followed her into the kitchen.

'Give it to me, Alice,' he said. 'Quick! Can't you see I'm half mad?'

Mrs. Haddon handed him the letter, and he tore the envelope with awkward
impatient fingers. The note was brief:

'DEAR HARRY,--I write this to bid you good-bye again, and thank you again
for all your kindness and goodness. I am going away because I can no
longer bear to live amongst people who know me as the daughter of one who
was a thief and almost a murderer. Don't think bitterly of me. All that I
have done I did for the best, according to my poor light. We may never
meet again, but it would make me happier some day to know that you had
forgiven me, and that you remembered me without anger in your own
happiness.

--Your very true friend,

'CHRISTINA SHINE.'

Harry sank into a chair and sat for a minute stari