knew him to be of independent fortune, but as he neither mixed in politics, "went into society," betted, or speculated in merchandise, there were several large sections of the community who had never heard his name. Many respectable money-lenders would have required "further information" before they would discount his bills; and "club-men” in general— save, perhaps, those ancient quidnuncs who know everybody, from Adam downwards-had but little acquaintance with him. The advent of Mr. Richard Devine-a coarse person of unlimited means-had therefore chief influence upon that sinister circle of male and female rogues who form the "half-world." They began to inquire concerning his antecedents, and, failing satisfactory information, to invent. lies concerning him. It was generally believed that he was a black sheep, a man whose family kept him out of the way, but who was, in a pecuniary sense, "good" for a considerable

sum.

Thus taken upon trust, Mr. Richard Devine mixed in the very best of bad society, and had no lack of agreeable friends to help him to spend his money. So admirably did he spend it, that Francis Wade became at last alarmed at the frequent drafts, and urged his nephew

to bring his affairs to a final settlement.
Richard Devine-in Paris, or Homburg, or
London, or elsewhere-could never be got to
attack business, and Mr. Francis Wade grew
more and more anxious. The poor gentleman
positively became ill through the anxiety con-
sequent upon his nephew's dissipations. "I
wish, my dear Richard, that you would let me
know what to do," he wrote.
"I wish, my
dear uncle, that you would do what you think
best," was his nephew's reply.

"Will you let Purkiss and Quaid look into
the business?" said the badgered Francis.
"I hate lawyers," said Richard. "Do what
you think right."

Mr. Wade began to repent of his too easy
taking of matters in the beginning. Not that
he had a suspicion of Rex, but that he re-
membered that Dick was always a loose fish.
The even current of the dilettante's life be-
came disturbed. He grew pale and hollow
eyed. His digestion was impaired. He
ceased to take the interest in china which
the importance of that article demanded. In
a word, he grew despondent as to his fitness
for his mission in life. Lady Ellinor saw a
change in her brother.
peevish, excitable.

He became morose,
She went privately to

the family doctor, who shrugged his shoulders. "There is no danger," said he, "if he is kept quiet; keep him quiet, and he will live for years, but his father died of heart disease, you know." Lady Ellinor, upon this, wrote a long letter to Mr. Richard, who was at Paris, repeated the doctor's opinions, and begged him to come over at once. Mr. Richard replied that some horse-racing matter of great importance occupied his attention, but that he would be at his rooms in Clarges Street (he had long ago established a town house) on the 14th, and would "go into matters." "I have lost a good deal of money lately, my dear mother," said Mr. Richard, "and the present will be a good opportunity to make a final settlement." The fact was, that John Rex, now three years in undisturbed possession, considered that the moment had arrived for the execution of his grand coup the carrying off at one swoop of the whole of the fortune he had gambled for.

CHAPTER III.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF THE REV.

M

JAMES NORTH.

WAY 12th.-Landed to-day at Norfolk Island, and have been introduced to my new abode, situated

It is

The

some eleven hundred miles from Sydney. A solitary rock in the tropical ocean, the island seems indeed, a fit place of banishment. about seven miles long and four broad. most remarkable natural object is of course the Norfolk Island pine, which rears its stately head a hundred feet above the surrounding forest. The appearance of the place is very wild and beautiful, bringing to my mind the description of the romantic islands of the Pacific, which old geographers dwell upon so fondly. Lemon, lime, and guava

trees abound, also oranges, grapes, figs, bananas, peaches, pomegranates, and pine-apples. The climate just now is hot and muggy. The approach to Kingstown-as the barracks and huts are called-is properly difficult. A long low reef-probably originally a portion of the barren rocks of Nepean and Philip Islands, which rise east and west of the settlement-fronts the bay and obstructs the entrance of vessels. We were landed in boats through an opening in this reef, and our vessel stands on and off within signalling distance. The surf washes almost against the walls of the military roadway that leads to the barracks. The social aspect of the place fills me with horror. There seems neither discipline nor order. On our way to the Commandant's house we passed a low dilapidated building, where the men were at work grinding maize, and at the sight of us they commenced whistling, hooting, and shouting, using the most disgusting language. Three warders were near, but no attempt was made to check this unseemly exhibition.

May 14th. I sit down to write with as much reluctance as though I were about to relate my experience of a journey through a sewer.

First, to the prisoners' barracks, which stand