longside the wharves, and others
lying to their anchors out in the stream, with the wind whistling
through their rain-soaked cordage. They were of all rigs and sizes,
from the lordly Black Ball liner of a thousand tons to the small fore
and aft coasting schooner of less than fifty. Among them all there was
but one steamer, a handsome brig-rigged, black-painted and
black-funnelled craft of fifteen hundred tons, flying the house flag of
the Peninsular and Oriental Company. Steamers were rare in Sydney
Harbour in those days (it was the year 1860), and the Avoca had pride
of place and her own mooring buoy, for she was the only English mail
boat, and her commander and his officers were regarded with the same
respect as if they and their ship were the admiral and staff of the
Australian squadron.

Leaning with folded arms upon one of the wharf bollards, and apparently
oblivious of the driving sleet and cutting wind, a shabbily dressed man
of about thirty years of age was looking, pipe in mouth, at the mail
boat and the sailing vessels lying in the stream. There were four in
all--the steamer, an American whaling barque, a small brig of about two
hundred tons flying the Hawaiian Island colours, and a big, sprawling,
motherly-looking full-rigged ship, whose huge bow ports denoted her to
be a lumberman.

The man put his hand in his pocket and jingled together his few small
remaining coins; then he turned away and walked along the wharf till he
reached the side of a warehouse, the lee of which was sheltered from
the wind and rain. He leant his back against the wall and again
handled the coins.

"Seven shillings and two coppers," he said to himself, "and a waterman
would want at least three shillings to pull round here from the
Circular Quay in such nasty weather. No, Ted Barry, my boy, the funds
won't run it. But that brig is my fancy. She's all ready for sea--all
her boats up with the gripes lashed, and the Custom House fellow doing
his dog-trot under the awning, waiting for the skipper to come aboard,
and the tug to range alongside as soon as this howling gale takes off a
bit. I'll wait here for another hour and watch for him."

Sitting under the lee of the wall, he again filled his pipe and began
to smoke placidly, scanning with a seaman's eye the various vessels
lying alongside the wharves.

Work had ceased for the day, the lumpers and longshore men had gone to
their homes, and the usual idlers and loafers, whic