I don't know whether I don't think almost
more of her than of him.' Mr. Jones was returning to his work, having
sent in word to Sir John of this visitor's arrival. But Bagwax was too
full of his subject, and of his own honesty, for that. 'I don't think
that I need go out after all, Mr. Jones.'

'Oh indeed!'

'Of course it will be a great sell for me.'

'Will it, now?'

'Sydney, I am told, is an Elysium upon earth.'

'It's much the same as Botany Bay; isn't it?' asked Jones.

'Oh, not at all; quite a different place. I was reading a book the other
day which said that Sydney harbour is the most beautiful thing God ever
made on the face of the globe.'

'I know there used to be convicts there,' said Mr. Jones, very
positively.

'Perhaps they had a few once, but never many. They have oranges there,
and a Parliament almost as good as our own, and a beautiful new
post-office. But I shan't have to go, Mr. Jones. Of course, a man has to
do his duty.'

'Some do, and more don't. That's as far as I see, Mr. Bagwax.'

'I'm all for Nelson's motto, Mr. Jones,--"England expects that every man
this day shall do his duty."' In repeating these memorable words Bagwax
raised his voice.

'Sir John don't like to hear anything through the partition, Mr.
Bagwax.'

'I beg pardon. But whenever I think of that glorious observation I am
apt to become a little excited. It'll go a long way, Mr. Jones, in
keeping a man straight if he'll only say it to himself often enough.'

'But not to roar it out in an eminent barrister's chambers. He didn't
hear you, I daresay; only I thought I'd just caution you.'

'Quite right, Mr. Jones. Now I mean to do mine. I think we can get the
party out of prison without any journey to Sydney at all; and I'm not
going to stand in the way of it. I have devoted myself to this case, and
I'm not going to let my own interest stand in the way. Mr. Jones, let a
man be ever so humble, England does expect--that he'll do his duty.'

'By George, he'll hear you, Mr. Bagwax;--he will indeed.' But at that
moment Sir John's bell was rung, and Bagwax was summoned into the great
man's room. Sir John was sitting at a large office-table so completely
covered with papers that a whole chaos of legal atoms seemed to have
been deposited there by the fortuitous operation of ages. Bagwax, who
had his large bag in his hand, looked forlornly round the room for some
freer and more fitting board on which he might expose his documen