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 with in his progress, as marks to guide him out of the dense scrub into which he had penetrated. His plot was now ripe for execution. Performing some eccentric movements, first proceeding for a short distance in one direction, and suddenly changing it for another, the bailiff was at length completely mystified as to the direction in which he had been travelling.

"Hist! did you hear nothing?" exclaimed Dodge.

"No-o: nothing. What?— Eh?" said the bailiff, and his face was livid with fear.

"There! There!! said Dodge, "don't you see the bushes shaking again?—'tis—the blacks!—the blacks!" he shouted, and in two or three bounds was out of sight.

"Don't leave me!—don't run away! Oh save me!—Save me!" shouted the miserable bailiff; "I shall be roasted and eaten alive—I shall," and he sunk upon the earth.

A savage yell now arose at his very feet.

"O good black fellows—most worthy bushrangers, oh spare me!—spare me!—I'm very old and tough, and shouldn't agree with you. I tell you so as a friend; so don't!—Oh don't!" Hearing a low chuckle close to him, he made several attempts to rise, but he was so entangled in the scrub that he could not do so.

Then there arose such a peal of laughter, so loud and so energetic, that the bailiff buried his face in the earth from very fear. When he lifted it again, the same sounds were ringing in his ears, but at a greater distance.

About an hour afterwards, a man emerged from the scrub dressed in the remains of a flannel shirt and canvass trousers, his face was red, his eyes protruding, and every now and then his cheeks, which at other times were like a shrivelled bladder, would swell out as if on the point of bursting. These alarming symptoms were partially relieved by such hearty laughter