Two years rolled on, during which they heard twice from Willy; satisfactory letters still, in a way.  Both testified to his “jolly” state:  he was growing rich, though not quite so rapidly as he had anticipated; a fellow had to spend so much!  Every day he expected to pick up a nugget which would crown his fortune.  He complained in these letters that he did not hear from home; not once had news reached him; had his father and mother abandoned him?

The question brought forth a gush of tears from Mrs. Gum, and a sharp abuse of the post-office.  The clerk took the news philosophically, remarking that the wonder would have been had Willy received the letters, seeing that he seemed to move about incessantly from place to place.

Close upon this came another letter, written apparently in haste.  Willy’s “fortune” had turned into reality at last; he was coming home with more gold than he could count; had taken his berth in the good ship Morning Star, and should come off at once to Calne, when the ship reached Liverpool.  There was a line written inside the envelope, as though he had forgotten to include it in the letter:  “I have had one from you at last; the first you wrote, it seems.  Thank dad for what he has done for me.  I’ll make it all square with him when I get home.”

This had reference to a fact which Calne did not know.  In that unhappy second visit of Clerk Gum’s to London, he did succeed in appeasing the wrath of Goldsworthy and Co., and paid in every farthing of the money.  How far he might have accomplished this but for being backed by the urgent influence of old Lord Hartledon, was a question.  One thing was in his favour:  the firm had not taken any steps whatever in the matter, and those handbills circulated at Calne were the result of a misapprehension on the part of an officious local police-officer.  Things had gone too far for Goldsworthys graciously to condone the offence—­and Clerk Gum paid in his savings of years.  This was the fact written by Mrs. Gum to her son, which had called forth the line in the envelope.

Alas! those were the last tidings ever received from Willy Gum.  Whilst Mrs. Gum lived in a state of ecstacy, showing the letter to her neighbours and making loving preparations for his reception, the time for the arrival of the Morning Star at Liverpool drew on, and passed, and the ship did not arrive.

A time of anxious suspense to all who had relations on board—­for it was supposed she had foundered at sea—­and tidings came to them.  An awful tale; a tale of mutiny and wrong and bloodshed.  Some of the loose characters on board the ship—­and she was bringing home such—­had risen in disorder within a month of their sailing from Melbourne; had killed the captain, the chief officer, and some of the passengers and crew.