me, and that she _does_ love
another man. Moreover, _I_ love that man too. He is my friend; so, the
long and the short of it is, I'm going to up-anchor, away to the
gold-fields, and leave the coast clear to him."

"This must not be, Bax; you may be wrong in supposing your case
hopeless. May I ask her name?"

"Forgive me, Guy, I _must_ not mention it," said Bax.

It is not necessary to weary the reader with the variety of arguments
with which Guy plied his friend in order to turn him from his purpose,
as they wandered slowly over the sandhills together. He was
unsuccessful in his efforts to arouse hope in the bosom of his friend,
or to induce him to suspend his determination for a time. Nor was he
more fortunate in attempting to make Bax say who was the friend--for
whom he was about to make so great a sacrifice,--little suspecting that
it was himself!

"Now," said Bax, after having firmly resisted his companion's utmost
efforts, "I want you to leave me here alone. I may seem to you to be
obstinate and ungracious to-night" (he stopped and seized Guy's hand),
"but, believe me, I am not so. My heart is terribly down, and you know
I'm a rough matter-of-fact fellow, not given to be sentimental, so I
can't speak to you as I would wish on this subject; but wherever I may
go in this world, I will never cease to pray for God's blessing on you
and yours, Guy."

"I like to hear you say that, Bax," returned the other; "it will rejoice
my heart to think that love for me will be the means of taking you often
to the throne of God."

"You're a good fellow, Guy; perhaps what you have often said to me has
not been thrown away as much as you suppose. Come, now, instead of you
having to urge the subject on me, I'll ask you to give me a text.
Supposing that you and I were parting _to-night_ for the last time, and
that I were going off to Australia _to-morrow_, what would you say to me
in the way of advice and encouragement?"

Guy paused thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, "Delight thyself in
the Lord, trust also in Him, and He will give thee the desires of thine
heart."

"Thank 'ee, lad, I'll not forget the words," said Bax, wringing his
friend's hand.

"Perhaps I'll think of another and more suitable text when the time for
parting really comes," said Guy, sadly. "Good-night, Bax; mind you come
up to the cottage to-morrow, and let me know your plans."

"I shall be busy to-morrow, but I'll write," said Bax, as his