regarded as the most truly mischievous of all, as perhaps he really
had been, since he had certainly drawn them into the affair, and his
life had barely been saved in consideration of his having rescued a
child from the fire at great personal peril.

Ambrose had written again and again about him to my father, but as
soon as the name occurred the letter had been torn up. On their
liberation from actual servitude they had sent up their statement to
the Government of New South Wales; but in the meantime Prometesky had
fared much worse than they had. They had been placed in hands where
their education, superiority, and good conduct had gained them trust
and respect, and they had quickly obtained a remission of the severer
part of their sentence and become their own masters; indeed, if
Ambrose had lived, he would soon have risen to eminence in the
colony. But Prometesky had fallen to the lot of a harsh, rude
master, who hated him as a foreigner, and treated him in a manner
that roused the proud spirit of the noble. The master had sworn that
the convict had threatened his life, and years of working in chains
on the roads had been the consequence.

It was no time for entertaining a petition on his account, and before
the expiration of this additional sentence Ambrose was dead.

By that time Eustace, now a rich and prosperous man, would gladly
have taken his old tutor to his home, but Prometesky was still too
proud, and all that he would do was to build a little hut under a
rock on the Boola Boola grounds, where he lived upon the proceeds of
such joiner's and watchmaker's work as was needed by the settlers on
a large area, when things were much rougher than even when my nephews
came home. No one cared for education enough to make his gifts