Hereupon Hawbury stretched his head and shoulders back, and pulled away with each hand at his long yellow pendent whiskers.  Then he yawned.  And then he slowly ejaculated,

“By Jove!”

“Well,” said Dacres, thoughtfully, “there is something in what you say; and, to tell the truth, I think there’s not a bad chance for me, so far as the lady herself is concerned; but the difficulty is not in that quarter.”

“Not in that quarter!  Why, where the mischief else could there be any difficulty, man?”

Dacres was silent.

“You’re eager enough?”

Dacres nodded his head sadly.

“Eager! why, eager isn’t the word.  You’re mad, man—­mad as a March hare!  So go in and win.”

Dacres said nothing.

“You’re rich, not over old, handsome, well born, well bred, and have saved the lady’s life by extricating her from the crater of a volcano.  She seems too young and childlike to have had any other affairs.  She’s probably just out of school; not been into society; not come out; just the girl.  Confound these girls, I say, that have gone through engagements with other fellows!”

“Oh, as to that,” said Dacres, “this little thing is just like a child, and in her very simplicity does not know what love is.  Engagement!  By Jove, I don’t believe she knows the meaning of the word!  She’s perfectly fresh, artless, simple, and guileless.  I don’t believe she ever heard a word of sentiment or tenderness from any man in her life.”

“Very likely; so where’s the difficulty?”

“Well, to tell the truth, the difficulty is in my own affairs.”

“Your affairs!  Odd, too.  What’s up?  I didn’t know any thing had happened.  That’s too infernal bad, too.”

“Oh, it’s nothing of that sort; money’s all right; no swindle.  It’s an affair of another character altogether.”

“Oh!”

“And one, too, that makes me think that—­”

He hesitated.

“That what?”

“That I’d better start for Australia.”

“Australia!”

“Yes.”

“What’s the meaning of that?”

“Why,” said Dacres, gloomily, “it means giving up the child-angel, and trying to forget her—­if I ever can.”

“Forget her!  What’s the meaning of all this?  Why, man, five minutes ago you were all on fire about her, and now you talk quietly about giving her up!  I’m all adrift.”

“Well, it’s a mixed up matter.”

“What is?”

“My affair.”

“Your affair; something that has happened?”

“Yes.  It’s a sore matter, and I don’t care to speak about it just now.”

“Oh!”

“And it’s the real cause why I don’t go back to England.”

“The mischief it is!  Why, Dacres, I’ll be hanged if you’re not using the very words I myself used a few minutes ago.”

“Am I?” said Dacres, gloomily.

“You certainly are; and that makes me think that our affairs are in a similar complication.”