“What-go to Melbourne?  O nonsense!”

“I will, certainly.  What will you do here?  Come with me to Melbourne.  We can find a situation there.”

“No, not more easily than here.  In fact I believe that it is much more crowded.”

“Hang it, I wish I had stayed at home.”

“But since you are out here, put it through, Marden.”

“Ah, well,” said he, with a sigh.  “I suppose I’ll have to,—­and I must be off this morning for Melbourne.  The sooner the better, for I have little money left.  We must part, old fellow.  I don’t see what you can do here, though?”

“I can earn a living, I have no friends to be ashamed of me here in the antipodes.  I suppose yonder is the vessel for Melbourne,” said he, pointing to one at the next wharf, on which was a notice to that effect.

“Yes, that is the one.”

“Well, I will help to carry your baggage there.  Mine will remain here.  I am sorry we must separate, but since we seek our fortunes, let us do what we think best.  Come on.”

And the two youths bearing Marden’s trunk, walked over to the Melbourne packet, which was soon to start.  Many others appeared upon the wharves who were about to leave Sydney.  Some were pale and sickly looking, others appeared like desperadoes; others had a faint gleam of hope on their countenances, but ah, very faint.

“Look at those who have starved here, Melville.  Can you stay?  No, come.  Let me go back and help you here with your trunk.”

“No, no, I will remain.”

“But, old fellow, do let me divide this money with you.”

“Thank you, Marden, you are a generous fellow-too generous.  But I would not think of it.  I have no fear but that I can live.”

An hour after Melville stood watching the packet, as with all sails set, she left the wharf, and sailed slowly out of the harbor.  The wind springing up carried them away, and Melville, as the vessel lessened in the distance, bade good-by to the last of those friends which reminded him of home.

“Now courage!” he murmured to himself—­“just let us sit down and form some plans.”

He walked over to his trunk, and sat for a while.  Strange situation for a well born and well educated gentleman!  To be on a foreign shore, with but half a crown in money, and a few clothes in a small trunk as his worldly goods.  After a while he opened the trunk, and taking out a piece of cake, made his morning meal.

“And now for business,” said he, shouldering his trunk.

He walked off with it to a small boarding-house near by, where he opened it and took out all his good clothes.  These he carried to a pawnbroker’s who gave him twelve pounds for the lot.

“Hurrah!” he cried, “twelve pounds!  That I think will help me along for awhile.”

He then bought a suit of rough clothes, and going to his lodgings, put them on, after which he went back and sold his last suit of good clothes for three pounds more.