deprecating shrug of his shoulders, 'there is not much to tell. I
was brought up in Paris, and, getting tired of city life, I came out
to India to see a little of the world; then I went over to Borneo,
and was coming down to Australia, when our vessel was wrecked and
all on board were drowned but myself and this fellow,' pointing to
Pierre, 'who was one of the sailors. We managed to get a boat, and
after tossing about for nearly a week we were cast up on the coast
of Queensland, and from thence came to Melbourne. I could not get
work there, neither could my friend, and as we heard of Ballarat we
came up here to try to get employment, and our lines, Madame,'--with
another bow--'have fallen in a pleasant place.'

'What a dreadful chapter of accidents,' said Madame, coolly looking
at him to see if he was speaking the truth, for experience of her
husband had inspired her with an instinctive distrust of men.
Vandeloup, however, bore her scrutiny without moving a muscle of his
face, so Madame at last withdrew her eyes, quite satisfied that his
story was true.

'Is there no one in Paris to whom you can write?' she asked, after a
pause.

'Luckily, there is,' returned Gaston, 'and I have already sent a
letter, asking for a remittance, but it takes time to get an answer,
and as I have lost all my books, papers, and money, I must just wait
for a few months, and, as I have to live in the meantime, I am glad
to obtain work.'

'Still, your consul--' began Mrs Villiers.