the kind to leave pleasant recollections," the police agent
diplomatically added.

"Her passengers?" The caller's thin lips compressed; a spark seemed to
leap from his gaze, but not before he had dropped it. "Among them, if
memory serves me, were a number of convicts?"

"A job lot of precious jailbirds that I was acting as escort of, your
Lordship!"

"But who never reached Australia!" quickly.

"Drowned!--every mother's son of them!" observed Mr. Gillett, with a
possible trace of complacency. "Not that I fancy the country they were
going to mourned much about that. I understand a strong sentiment's
growing out there against that sort of immigration."

The visitor's white hand held closer the head of his cane; the stick
bent to his weight. "_Were_ they all drowned, by the way?" he observed
as if seeking casual information on some subject that had partly passed
from his mind.

"No doubt of it. They were not released until the second boat got off,
and then there was no time to get overboard the life rafts!"

"True." Lord Ronsdale gazed absently out of the window, through a film,
as it were, at a venerable figure below; one of the species _helluo
librorum_ standing before a book-stall opposite. "Recall the day on that
memorable voyage you were telling us about them--who they were, and so
on?"