Such, then, was the end of this cruel man; and that it exceeded his deserts can hardly be maintained.

Luckily for me, my period of service with my late master was at this time about out.  A few days more, and I became entitled to my ticket of leave.  For this indulgence I applied when the time came, and it was immediately granted me for one year.  On obtaining my ticket I proceeded to Sydney, as the most likely place to fall in with some employment.  On this subject, however, I felt much at a loss; for not having been bred to any mechanical trade, I could do nothing in that way.  Farming was the only business of which I knew anything; and in this, my father having been an excellent farmer, I was pretty well skilled.  My hope, therefore, was, that I would find some situation as a farm overseer, and thought Sydney, although a town, the likeliest place to fall in with or hear of an employer.  On arriving in Sydney, I proceeded to the house of a countryman of the name of Lawson, who kept a tavern, and to whom I brought a letter of introduction from a relative of his own who had been banished for sedition, and who was one of my fellow-labourers in the last place where I had served.  On reading the letter, Lawson, who was a kind-hearted man, exclaimed—­

“Puir Jamie, puir fallow; and hoo is he standin’t oot?”

I assured him that he was bearing his fate manfully, but that he had been in the service of a remorseless master.

“Ay, I ken him,” said Lawson.  “A man that’s no gude to his ain canna be gude to ithers.”

“You must speak of him now, however, in the past tense,” said I. 
“Mr.----- is dead.”

“Dead!” exclaimed Lawson, with much surprise.  “When did he die?”

I told him, and also of the manner of his death.

“Weel, that is shockin’,” he remarked; “but, upon my word, better couldna hae happened him, for he was a cruel-hearted man.”  Then, reverting to his relative, “Puir Jamie,” he said; “but I think we’ll manage to get Jamie oot o’ his scrape by-and-by.  I hae gude interest wi’ the governor, through a certain acquaintance, and houpe to be able to get him a free pardon in a whily.  But he maun just submit a wee in the meantime.”

“But anent yoursel, my man,” continued Lawson, “what can I do for ye?  Jamie, here, speaks in the highest terms o’ ye, and begs me to do what I can for ye; and that I’ll willingly do on his account.  What war’ ye bred to?”

I told him that I had been bred to the farming business, and that I should like to get employment as a farm overseer or upper servant, to engage for a year.

“Ay, just noo, just noo,” said honest Lawson.  “Weel, I’ll tell you what it is, and it’s sae far lucky:  there was a decent, respectable-looking man here the day, a countryman o’ our ain—­and I believe he’ll sleep here the nicht—­wha was inquirin’ if I kent o’ ony decent, steady lad who had been brocht up in the farmin’ line.