“Of course, you are not in earnest when you speak thus,” replied Fred, quite coolly; “you must be aware, if you enter Melbourne in company with this man’s wife, and we are disposed to lodge information against you, that a long residence at the hulks would be your portion.”

Delvin remained silent, but he looked as though he would like to try the issue of the affair with an exchange of shots.

“We have promised this man to help recover his wife, and we mean to keep our word.  We have nothing against you, and therefore do not think it worth while to risk our lives exchanging shots; but Herrets, here—­”

“Ah, then he can meet me,” cried Delvin, eagerly.

“By no means,” replied Fred, with great distinctness; “you have injured him sufficiently already, and it appears to me strange that the world should think a husband bound to demand reparation by receiving the contents of a pistol, and then consider that satisfaction has been accorded.”

“Then you deny me a chance to satisfy the husband of this woman?” demanded Delvin, and his looks showed how eagerly he would have shot Herrets had he been allowed.

“Certainly we do, and we have a piece of advice to give you—­don’t return to Ballarat for a few months, or you might fare badly.  The miners have a prejudice against people who run off with wives not belonging to them, and but little agitation would be necessary to serve you as men of your kind are served in California.”

“May I ask now that is?” Delvin inquired.

“They are tried by Lynch law,” was Fred’s laconic answer.

The seducer glared at us as though he would like to encounter each individual singly, and I did not, know but that he would charge upon us, and risk the odds, great as they were.

“What have I done, Mary Ann, that you should run off and leave me?” cried Herrets, speaking for the first time.

His wife maintained a profound silence.

“Didn’t I do all that I could to make you happy and comfortable?” he continued.

“No,” she replied, with a defiant air, “you did not.  You never spoke to me kindly, or asked if I was contented.  I went to your tent with but little love for you, and now I have less.  Did you seek to gain my affections, or to banish from my mind the image of a man that I felt I could die for?”

She looked hard at Fred, but the latter avoided her glance.

“I may have to go back with you, but I warn you that I feel only loathing and contempt for your home, for you, and every one in Ballarat.”

We did not seek to check her, for we knew that her outburst of rage would end in tears, and we were not mistaken.  She wept bitterly, and upbraided Fred and myself as the authors of her misfortunes; and even while she was lamenting her fate, we turned her horse’s head in the direction of Ballarat.

Her paramour sat upon his animal sullen, and undecided what to do; and without stopping to exchange words with him, we commenced our journey homeward.