rted the engine. The sparking being still weak, he
examined the magneto: it was choked with grease. The next thing was to
clean the brush with petrol and try the plugs again. The spark was now
strong, and after giving everything a final polish, he replaced the
plugs, satisfied that the engine was in good working order.

Switching off the searchlight for economy's sake, and leaving only the
small light that illuminated the compass, he sat down, opened a tin of
sardines, and began to eat them with biscuits. A fastidious person
might have objected to the mingling of flavours, olive oil and petrol
not combining at all well; but Rodier was too old a hand to be dainty.
He was in the act of munching a mouthful when his head dropped forward
on his breast, and he fell into a sound sleep.

He was wakened by a voice in his ear. Jumping up with a start, he
beheld a crowd of people watching him, men in Sunday coats, men in
shirt sleeves, ladies in light dresses, boys in knickerbockers and
Norfolks, girls in pinafores, Chinamen in coats of many colours, many
of the throng holding torches and lanterns.

"Ah! mille diables!" he cried. "Keep back! This is not a penny
theatre."

"Nor yet a cook-shop," said one of the visitors, with a laugh; "though
you might think so."

And then Rodier saw that the men and boys foremost in the group
carried plates, dishes, bowls, bottles, jugs. One had a dish of
chicken patties, another a plate of bananas, a third a bowl of
Devonshire junket, a fourth a loaf of bread; others had cheese,
apples, bottled beer, Australian wine, doughnuts, pork sausages,
sponge cake, ham sandwiches; in short, all the constituents of a high
tea except tea itself.

"Thought you might be hungry after your ride," said one. "Have a
sandwich?"

"Have a banana?" said another. "You won't get 'em like this in
London."

"Dry work, ain't it?" said a third, pulling a cork. "That'll buck you
up."

"Please take one of my doughnuts," piped a small boy, creeping around
the right leg of a sturdy planter.

"Ma foi! This take the cake," cried Rodier, laughing heartily. "Thank
you, thank you, thank you! But truly I shall be very--very
discomfortable if I eat all this riches. Ah; this is good, this is
hospitality. My friends, I thank you, I love you; vive l'Australie!"

Bubbling with excitement, he shook hands with this one and that; and
both hands being engaged at once in this hearty mode of salutation, he
would have been able t