in the Gondifera mine, and at last sailed for Europe, bidding a
long adieu to Venezuela and everything belonging to it, my journey home
being hastened by a somewhat tenderer letter than usual from Elsie, who
had read a paragraph in the papers about my having been wounded at the
battle of San Sebastien, though, of course, I had not mentioned anything
about the affair to her or my mother, as it was a mere flea bite and of
no consequence, and I feared to have alarmed them needlessly had I said
anything about it in my letters to them at home.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

HOME AT LAST!

Fellows who knock about the world sailoring and so on, cannot help
coming to the conclusion that its compass is narrower than stay-at-home
folk might be inclined to believe, for you can hardly stir a step
without knocking across some one whom you previously imagined to have
been miles and miles away, separated, perhaps, by an ocean from
yourself.

I had scarcely stepped into the train from Southampton, bound
Londonwards, _en route_ for Liverpool, having only landed from the mail
steamer that brought me direct all the way from Colon that very morning,
when whom should I see looking at me from the opposite corner of the
railway carriage but a big, bushy-haired, brown-bearded man whom I did
not know from Adam.

"Faith," exclaimed this gentleman, after a moment's scrutiny, a broad
grin lighting up his face and his eyes twinkling with a comical
expression that would alone have made me recognise him, had I not heard
his delightful, to me at any rate, Irish brogue, "ye're ayther Dick
Haldane or the divvle!" stretching out both hands to grasp mine.

I was as pleased to see him, as may readily be believed, as the genial
Irishman was to see me, I was sure, even without his telling me so.

"Well," said I, after we had pretty nigh wrung each other's hands off in
friendly greeting, "and how are you all getting on aboard the dear old
barquey? I want to hear about everybody."

"Begorrah, Dick, give me toime to recover me bre'th, me bhoy, an' thin
I'll till ye ivverythin'," and then he continued in a bashful sort of
way, unlike his usual off-hand manner, "I've lift the say for good, an'
sit up for a docther ashore on me own hook, faith."

"Why!" I exclaimed in great surprise, "how's that?"

"Bedad, you'd betther axe y'r sister."

"What! my sister Janet?"

"Faith, yis; the very same little darlint of a colleen. Dick, ye
spalpeen, jist lit me s