ydney Harbour, and during the subsequent day, after a
visit to my consignees had assured me that the pilot's story in nowise
exaggerated the astounding state of things then prevailing in the port,
and at length came to the conclusion that I could do nothing. If they
chose to remain, well and good; if they elected to go, I had no power to
prevent them.

To my astonishment and gratification, however, they took their leave
time after time, and always punctually turned up on board again when it
had expired; until, when we had been in the harbour nearly a month, and
our cargo was almost out, I began to hope that the fellows really meant
to stay by me. Then, getting leave to spend Sunday ashore, as usual,
every mother's son of them--save the mate and Joe Martin--left me. I,
of course, at once communicated with the police authorities, acquainting
them with the fact of the desertion; and I also offered a substantial
reward for the recovery of the men. But it was of no avail; the rascals
had gone clean off; and there I found myself, in the same plight as many
another shipmaster, locked up in Sydney Harbour for an indefinite
period, with no hope whatever of getting away so long as the rush to the
gold-fields lasted.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE NEW CREW.

I had been in this unpleasant plight about three weeks, during which the
remainder of the cargo had been discharged, the ship ballasted down to
her very best sailing trim, and everything made ready for my trip to the
Pacific, when one day, as I was wandering aimlessly about the streets, I
encountered Sir Edgar and Lady Desmond, who--after a much longer sojourn
up-country than they had intended--had returned to Sydney, and were
beginning to think seriously of finding their way back to England. They
were palpably and unfeignedly delighted to see me again, although they
of course sympathised with me in my misfortune, and insisted upon my
dining with them that evening, and afterwards accompanying them to the
theatre. I suppose they saw that I needed a little cheering up; and I
got it, too; for they were more than kind--their genial frankness of
behaviour to me was more that of a brother and sister than of mere
acquaintances, or even of the usual run of friends; and when I left them
next morning after breakfast--for they insisted on my acceptance of
their hospitality for the night--I felt more cheerful than I had done
since the desertion of my crew. As I shook hands with Si