short paved path, down three or four stone steps,
then turned sharply along a small narrow verandah. At the end of the
verandah was a door. Nellie felt in the darkness for the bell-button and
gave two sharp rings.

"Where are you taking me, Nellie?" he asked. "This is too swell a place
for me. It looks as though everybody was gone to bed."

In truth he was beginning to think of secret societies and mysterious
midnight meetings. Only Nellie had not mentioned anything of the kind and
he felt ashamed of acknowledging his suspicions by enquiring, in case it
should turn out to be otherwise. Besides, what did it matter? There was
no secret society which he was not ready to join if Nellie was in it, for
Nellie knew more about such things than he did. It was exactly the place
for meetings, he thought, looking round. Nobody would have dreamt that it
was only half an hour ago that they two had left Paddy's Market. Here was
the scent of damp earth and green trees and heavily perfumed flowers; the
rustling of leaves; the fresh breath of the salt ocean. In the darkness,
he could see only a semi-circling mass of foliage under the sombre sky,
no other houses nor sign of such. He could not even hear the rumbling of
the Sydney streets nor the hoarse whispering of the crowded city; not
even a single footfall on the road they had come down. For the faint
lap-lap-lapping of water filled the pauses, when the puffy breeze failed
to play on its leafy pipes. Here a Mazzini might hide himself and here
the malcontents of Sydney might gather in safety to plot and plan for the
overthrow of a hateful and hated "law and order." So he thought.

"Oh, they're not gone to bed," replied Nellie, confidently. "They live at
the back. It overlooks the harbour that side. And you'll soon see they're
not as swell as they look. They're splendid people. Don't be afraid to
say just what you think."

"I'm not afraid of that, if you're not."

"Ah, there's someone."

An inside door opened and closed again, then they heard a heavy footstep
coming, which paused for a moment, whereat a flood of colour streamed
through a stained glass fanlight over the door.

"That's Mr. Stratton," announced Nellie.

Next moment the door at which they stood was opened by a bearded man,
wearing loose grey coat and slippers.

"Hello, Nellie!" exclaimed this possible conspirator, opening the door
wide. "Connie said it was your ring. Come straight in, both of you. Good
evening, si