necessary to selection, Jim had an affinity for books of pessimistic
doctrine, and though both means and opportunities were limited, he
gathered together, in the course of two years, quite a library of
precious volumes, and he came forth from these an intellectual giant
refreshed. He saw Chisley on a plane far below him, a sink of ignorance,
and judged it like a god--or a boy. Whatever Chisley respected he found
excellent occasion to despise; whatever it revered he discovered to be
false and contemptible. His sense of superiority was magnificent; it gave
him a glorious exultation. A few hot words with the clerical caretaker of
the Chisley conscience over the question of Sabbath observance exposed
the young man--the gaol-bird--as an infidel and a scoffer. Jim was no
infidel, but communities like Chisley do not under stand subtle
distinctions in theology. Here was fresh occasion to fear and abhor Jim
o' Mill End; here was justification for many evil prophecies.

For a time Jim revelled in his great moral superiority and dreamed
dreams. But the gnawing impatience returned--the unrest, the craving for
something he could not define, but which always merged itself into his
great grievance. He lived alone. At his work--which he obtained readily,
for he was strong and efficient, and gave double value for his wages--he
had no mates. Girls he had seen grow up from babyhood developed into
beautiful creatures, with miraculous eyes, round limbs, and cheeks so
red, so tender, that their soft ripeness haunted his dreams. Under cover
and in secret he would watch them pass or at play with a throbbing heart
and a passionate hunger for companionship, and discover himself doing
this with something of a shock, ashamed of his interest in his enemies,
resentful of all emotions that ran counter to his cherished antipathies.

When the news of the discovery of fabulous gold deposits in far Australia
reached Chisley, Jim had thoughts of a new life in a new land: he craved