That was all they 'eard for some months, and then they got another letter
saying that the men on the _Rochester Castle_ was, if anything, worse
than those on the Seabird, and that he'd begun to think that running away
to sea was diff'rent to wot he'd expected, and that he supposed 'e'd done
it too late in life. He sent 'is love to 'is wife and asked 'er as a
favour to send Uncle Burge and 'is boys away, as 'e didn't want to find
them there when 'e came home, because they was the cause of all his
sufferings.

"He don't know 'is best friends," ses old Burge. "'E's got a nasty
sperrit I don't like to see."

"I'll 'ave a word with 'im when 'e does come home," ses Bob. "I s'pose
he thinks 'imself safe writing letters thousands o' miles away."

The last letter they 'ad came from Auckland, and said that he 'ad shipped
on the _Monarch,_ bound for the Albert Docks, and he 'oped soon to be at
'ome and managing the Blue Lion, same as in the old happy days afore he
was fool enough to go to sea.

That was the very last letter, and some time arterward the _Monarch_ was
in the missing list, and by-and-by it became known that she 'ad gone down
with all hands not long arter leaving New Zealand. The only difference
it made at the Blue Lion was that Mrs. Dixon 'ad two of 'er dresses dyed
black, and the others wore black neckties for a fortnight and spoke of
Dixon as pore George, and said it was a funny world, but they supposed
everything was for the best.

It must ha' been pretty near four years since George Dixon 'ad run off to
sea when Charlie, who was sitting in the bar one arternoon reading the
paper, things being dull, saw a man's head peep through the door for a
minute and then disappear. A'most direckly arterward it looked in at
another door and then disappeared agin. When it looked in at the third
door Charlie 'ad put down 'is paper and was ready for it.

"Who are you looking for?" he ses, rather sharp. "Wot d'ye want? Are
you 'aving a game of peepbo, or wot?"

The man coughed and smiled, and then 'e pushed the door open gently and
came in, and stood there fingering 'is beard as though 'e didn't know wot
to say.

"I've come back, Charlie," he ses at last.

"Wot, George!" ses Charlie, starting. "Why, I didn't know you in that
beard. We all thought you was dead, years ago."

"I was pretty nearly, Charlie," ses Dixon, shaking his 'ead. "Ah! I've
'ad a terrible time since I left 'once."

"'You don't seem to h