It carried no emigrants and had a
passenger list of fashionable folk. On the voyage out to Australia the
weather was pleasant, save in the Bay of Biscay; there was no sickness
on board, and there were many opportunities for social gaiety, the
cultivation of pleasant acquaintances, and the encouragement of that
brisk idleness which aids to health. This was really the first holiday
in my life, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Nothing of unusual interest
occurred on the outward voyage; for one thing, because there were no
unusual people among the passengers; for another, because the vessel
behaved admirably. The same cannot be said of the return voyage: and
with it my story really begins. Misfortune followed us out of Sydney
harbour. We broke a crank-shaft between there and Port Phillip,
Melbourne; a fire in the hold occurred at Adelaide; and at Albany we
buried a passenger who had died of consumption one day out from King
George's Sound. At Colombo, also, we had a misfortune, but it was of a
peculiar kind, and did not obtrude itself at once; it was found in
an addition to our passenger list. I had spent a day in exploring
Colombo--visiting Arabi Pasha, inspecting Hindu temples, watching the
jugglers and snake-charmers, evading guides and the sellers of brummagem
jewellery, and idling in the Cinnamon Gardens. I returned to the ship
tired out. After I had done some official duties, I sauntered to the
gangway, and, leaning against the bulwarks, idly watched the passengers
come on board from the tender. Two of these made an impression on me.
One was a handsome and fashionably-dressed woman, who was followed by
a maid or companion (as I fancied), carrying parcels; the other, a
shabbily-dressed man, who was the last to come up from the tender. The
woman was going down the companion-way when he stepped on deck with a
single bag in his hand, and I noticed that he watched her with a strange
look in his eyes. He stood still as he gazed, and remained so for
a moment after she had gone; then he seemed to recover himself, and
started, as I thought, almost guiltily, when he saw that my attention
was attracted. He nervously shifted his bag from one hand to the other,
and looked round as though not certain of where he should go. A steward
came to him officiously, and patronisingly too,--which is the bearing of
servants to shabbily-dressed people,--but he shook his head, caught his
bag smartly away from the steward's fingers, and moved towards