he agent. They were both old acquaintances and he felt kindly
towards their familiar faces. He had a drink or two with them for old
times' sake, and also because he was desperately nervous. He was not
sure if Ethel would be glad to see him. When he got into the launch and
approached the wharf he scanned anxiously the little crowd that waited.
She was not there and his heart sank, but then he saw Brevald, in his
old blue clothes, and his heart warmed towards him.

"Where's Ethel?" he said, as he jumped on shore.

"She's down at the bungalow. She's living with us."

Lawson was dismayed, but he put on a jovial air.

"Well, have you got room for me? I daresay it'll take a week or two to
fix ourselves up."

"Oh, yes, I guess we can make room for you."

After passing through the custom-house they went to the hotel and there
Lawson was greeted by several of his old friends. There were a good many
rounds of drinks before it seemed possible to get away and when they did
go out at last to Brevald's house they were both rather gay. He clasped
Ethel in his arms. He had forgotten all his bitter thoughts in the joy
of beholding her once more. His mother-in-law was pleased to see him,
and so was the old, wrinkled beldame, her mother; natives and
half-castes came in, and they all sat round, beaming on him. Brevald had
a bottle of whisky and everyone who came was given a nip. Lawson sat
with his little dark-skinned boy on his knees, they had taken his
English clothes off him and he was stark, with Ethel by his side in a
Mother Hubbard. He felt like a returning prodigal. In the afternoon he
went down to the hotel again and when he got back he was more than gay,
he was drunk. Ethel and her mother knew that white men got drunk now and
then, it was what you expected of them, and they laughed good-naturedly
as they helped him to bed.

But in a day or two he set about looking for a job. He knew that he
could not hope for such a position as that which he had thrown away to
go to England; but with his training he could not fail to be useful to
one of the trading firms, and perhaps in the end he would not lose by
the change.

"After all, you can't make money in a bank," he said. "Trade's the
thing."

He had hopes that he would soon make himself so indispensable that he
would get someone to take him into partnership, and there was no reason
why in a few years he should not be a rich man.

"As soon as I'm fixed up we'll find ourselves