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182 a stronger thing than social considerations. He was gagged and bound by abject fear.

And this was why Daintree the younger was allowed to sail away betrothed to Claire, towards the latter end of January, 1838.

He arrived in Sydney some four or five months later.

It was a mild, pellucid, winter’s day. Sky and harbour wore their ancient tint of magic blue; and as the luxuriant shores unfolded before the incoming vessel, headland and inlet, inlet and headland, each with its sash of golden sand, its cord of silver foam, the homing wanderer swept the water’s edge for his own bungalow, and found it with a real thrill. He had chosen well in his adopted land; it was one of milk and honey and perpetual sunshine. But even as they dropped anchor in Sydney Cove, there came through the clear air the clank of men at work in heavy irons near the quay; and the first person to greet Daintree in the streets was a magnate who stopped his carriage and alighted with the peculiar shuffle of one who had himself worn those heavy irons in his day. Daintree shook the gnarled, bedizened hand with an inward shiver; he had forgotten that his Canaan was an Egypt—a Land of Promise and of Bondage too.

He was on his way to the club; he went instead to the council-chamber in Macquarie Street, and obtained an interview with the Principal Superintendent of Convicts.

“There was a man called Erichsen sent out last year,” said Daintree. “Transported for life; have you ever come across his name?” And he was spelling it when the other gave a whistle.

“So you’re interested in him, are you?” cried the