ed, or imagined so, that he was beaten in the field of love--by a
Dutchman!

Sergeant Harry Burt was the first to give him warning, for he was often
on duty at or near the Commissary's quarters, and, indeed, had often
taken notes from Foster to the fair Dolly. He showed a warm interest in
the matter, for Foster was always polite to the sergeant, and did not
turn up his nose at "soldier men," as other masters of ships were but
too ready to do.

It had so happened that the work of discharging his ship had kept Foster
very busy during the second week of his stay, and he had paid but one
evening visit to Dolly and her father, and was hurrying the cargo ashore
with feverish eagerness. Once that was accomplished, he meant to devote
himself (1)to proposing to the young lady, (2) gaining her father's
consent, and (3) getting to sea again as soon as possible, making a good
cruise at the whale fishery, and returning to Sydney within two years
as master and owner of a ship of his own. Consequently, Burt's news gave
him considerable disquietude.

"Who did you say he was, Sergeant?" he asked gloomily; "a Dutchman?"

"Yes, sir; he's the master of that Dutch Batavian ship that has brought
stores from Batavia. Mr. Scarsbrook seems to make a lot of him of late,
and he's always coming up to the Commissary's place. And if he sees Miss
Scarsbrook out in the garden he swaggers in after her as if he were an
admiral of the fleet Portveldt's his name, and--and----"

"And what, Sergeant?"

"Well, I think Miss Scarsbrook rather likes him, that's all. You see,
sir, you haven't been there for a week, and this young Dutchman is by no
means bad-looking, and even our Major says he's a jolly fine fellow--and
all that goes a long way with women, you know. Then you only visit the
house once in a week; the Dutchman goes there every day, and every time
he comes he brings his boatswain with him--a big, greasy-faced chap.
Last night he followed his master, carrying a cheese--a present for the
Commissary, I suppose."

"Well, I shall soon see how the land lies, Sergeant I'm going ashore
presently, and I can promise you it won't be my fault if I let this
fellow get to windward of me."

But Miss Dolly was not to be seen that day, nor yet on the following
one. She was vexed at Foster having thought of his work before herself,
and she had determined to punish him by not meeting him for some little
time, and amuse herself with the handsome young Dutch sai