“You are right,” he said; “passion blinded me for a moment, but now I can see that, your advice is good.  Let us talk no more on the subject, but hope for her happiness.”

But we did talk on the subject frequently and earnestly; and as Mary’s career was much as I supposed that it would be, I will follow it and give the reader the sequel.

Mr. Herrets removed his wife to his tent, and after the first week of his marriage paid but little attention to her comfort or her wants.  A coldness soon sprang up between them, and then bitter quarrels ensued.  The husband, while grasping for gold in the bowels of the earth, little thought that his neighbor was paying court to his wife, and that she received those attentions with eagerness.  Women in Ballarat commanded a premium, for there were but few, and those principally of the lowest class.  A few of the highest officers under government had their wives with them, but the husbands guarded them with more than Oriental jealousy, and it was a rare sight to see them in the street or at windows.  There was little cause for wonder, then, that a man, whose good looks were a passport, should have ingratiated himself into the affections of Mrs. Herrets, and that one day they should leave Ballarat in company.  We were in the store one afternoon, about a month after the marriage, when Mr. Herrets rushed in.

“Is she here?” he demanded, his face looking like a demon’s.

“Who here?” I asked, calmly, although I suspected his errand.

“My wife,” he shouted.  “Darn her, I don’t know where she is.  She is playing some of her pranks, and I’ll fix her for it.”

He rushed out of the store frantically, and uttered a profusion of oaths as he dashed through the streets, making inquiries of every one that he met respecting his wife.  Some laughed at him, while others, after questioning him until they had arrived at the facts, would gravely shake their heads, and express an entire ignorance of the woman’s whereabouts.  Herrets then made application to the police office, but was curtly informed that the police had something to attend to besides hunting after men’s wives.

Desperate with rage, and vowing all sorts of vengeance upon the frail woman, the baffled husband once more sought our store and implored our aid.  He even offered a considerable sum of money if we would unite with him and make search for her; but we refused his money, and declined for a long time to interfere, until at length his importunities caused us to yield, and after we extracted promises that he would be likely to keep, we concluded to help him.

We sent the young husband back to his tent, and bade him make arrangements to be gone at least two days, and to bring back with him some article of clothing that had belonged to the runaway.  He obeyed our instructions, and by the time he had returned our three horses were saddled and ready for a start.  We lost no time in getting under way, and in less than an hour we were seven miles from Ballarat, on the road to Melbourne, the nearest city that the runaways could reach.  Sydney we considered as out of the question, for its distance of five hundred miles was not likely to attract travellers who were journeying for speed and flying for safety.