“One name is as good as the other—­what is the difference?—­both begin with H and end with s.”

We found that the officer’s description of the man answered very well.  His hair was sandy, his eyes were blue, and his skin was very fair and beardless.  He was about five feet six inches, and not very stout.

Dressed as he was, in mining clothes, stained with many a stratum of earth, we could form but a poor opinion of his good looks, even had we been disposed to estimate his beauty before his understanding.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, addressing Fred and myself, in a tone that was intended to be excessively conciliatory.

“Before we answer that question we must ask one,” Fred replied.  “Were you ever an apprentice to a cordwainer in London?”

The man’s face flushed scarlet, and he seemed extremely agitated at the question—­but at length he replied,—­

“I was an apprentice to a cordwainer, but my indentures were given up before I left England, sir.”

“And your master had an only daughter, whose hand you demanded in marriage,” Fred continued.

“Yes, but I meant nothing wrong; upon my word, gents, I didn’t,” he exclaimed, hastily, evidently considering Fred and myself in some way connected with the law, as we were under the guidance of a police officer.

“That remains to be seen,” returned Fred, in a mysterious manner, evidently taking some delight in frightening the simple-minded young man all he could.

“O, I can tell you all about it,” Herrets exclaimed with eagerness.

“That is unnecessary,” Fred replied.  “We know all, or nearly all; but what we wish to discover is, why you did not join the lady at Melbourne, as you promised in your letter?”

“Join the lady at Melbourne?” the young fellow repeated, hardly knowing what to say; “why, I wrote to her that if she would come to Australia I would pay her expenses, and marry her, besides.  That was fair, wasn’t it?  But she didn’t write me that she would come; so of course I thought that my hundred pounds were a dead loss, and that the girl had got another feller, which I don’t call exactly fair; do you?”

We did not commit ourselves by any opinion, as we did not know but that some day it would be brought against us.

We formed an opinion, however, respecting the mental capacity of the youth, for whose sake the poor girl had wandered so many miles; and I no longer wondered that she saw a difference between her lover and Fred.

“Then you received no letter from Miss Purcel, announcing that she would sail on such a day, and requesting you to be on the lookout for her?” asked Fred.

“Of course I didn’t,” responded the young man, with commendable eagerness.  “That is just what I am finding fault with.”

“Then you will be rejoiced to learn that, after great suffering and privation, Miss Purcel has arrived, and is in Ballarat,” Fred said.