The next morning, I arose early, and went to Olliphant's tent--to take
leave of him, and his companion Bill.
I accompanied them to the public-house, from which the stage coach to
Geelong was to start. We stepped inside the house, to have a glass
together.
"There's a question," said Bill, "that I've often thought of putting to
you. I've heard you called Rowland. Excuse my appearing to be
inquisitive; but I have a strong reason for it. You have some other
name. Will you tell me what it is?"
There is something extraordinary in the power and quickness of thought.
Suddenly a conviction came over my mind: that I had found my brother! I
felt sure of it. Memory did not assist me much, in making the
discovery. It seemed to come upon me, as if by inspiration!
It is true, I had something to guide me, in coming to this conclusion.
Sailor Bill had evidently, at some time or other, known a person by the
name of Rowland. It at once entered my mind, that I must be the
individual of whom he had this distant recollection.
"My name," said I, in answer to his question, "is your own. Is not
yours Stone?"
"It is," rejoined he, "William Stone."
"Then we are brothers!"
"You are the Rolling Stone!" exclaimed Bill, grasping my hand. "How
strange that I did not ask the question, when I first heard you called
Rowland!"
The excitement caused by our mutual recognition, was of the most
pleasurable character; and, for some moments after the first words, we
both remained speechless.
`The Elephant' was nearly as much astonished as ourselves, at the
discovery thus made. "What a fool I've been," said he, "not to have
seen long ago that you were brothers. If ever there were two brothers,
I could swear that you two were the pair. I have been blind not to have
told you before--what you have at last found out for yourselves."
We had no time to do more than exchange mutual congratulations: for the
stage coach was about to start. I immediately paid for a seat; and set
off along with them for Geelong. At the moment, I had along with me all
the gold I had gathered. I had brought it out, for the purpose of
taking it to the Escort Office--as soon as I should bid adieu to my
friends. There was nothing else of much importance to detain me in
Ballarat; and I parted from the place at less than a moment's notice.
My brother and I found plenty of employment for our tongues, while
making the journey to Melbourne.
I asked him, if he had been aware of our mother's having followed Mr
Leary to Australia.
"Yes," said he, "I knew, when she left me in Liverpool, that she was
going to follow the brute out there; and I concluded she had done so."
"And have you never thought of trying to find her, while you were in
Sydney?"
"No," said my brother, in a tone of solemnity, "when she deserted me in
Liverpool, to go after that wretch, I felt that I had lost a mother; and
it is my belief, that a mother once lost is never found again."
"But did it not occur to you that you should have tried to find Martha?
Do you intend leaving the colonies without making some effort to
discover our sister?"
"Poor little Martha!" exclaimed William, "she was a dear little child.
I would, indeed, like to see her again. Suppose we both try to find
her? I do not believe that if we discover her, we need have any fear of
being ashamed of her. She was once a little angel; and I am sure she
will be a good girl, wherever she is--Oh! I should like to see Martha
once more; but to tell the truth Rowland, I do not care for ever seeing
mother again!"
I then informed my brother, that his wishes might yet be gratified; and,
as we continued our journey, I gave him a detailed history of the
affairs of the family--so far as I was myself acquainted with them.
It was by no means an agreeable mode of transit, travelling by stage
coach in the state the roads of Victoria were at the time, yet that was
the happiest day I had ever passed in the colony. William and I kept up
our conversation all day long. We had hardly a word for our companion,
Olliphant; and we were under the necessity of apologising to him.
"Don't mention it," said the good-hearted Elephant. "I am as happy as
either of you. You are two fellows of the right sort; and I'm glad you
have found each other."
On our arrival in Melbourne, we all went together to the Union Hotel.
After engaging rooms, we proceeded to the purchase of some clothes--in
order that we might make a respectable appearance in the streets of the
city. My brother was in breathless haste to get himself rigged out; and
we knew his reason. He intended to spend the evening in the society of
his future wife and her mother.
At an early hour in the afternoon, he took leave of us.
Olliphant and I were compelled to kill the time the best way we could;
but the trouble of doing so was not great: since there are but few
cities of equal size with Melbourne, where so much time and money are
devoted to the purpose of amusement.
Next day, I accepted an invitation from my brother, to accompany him on
a visit to his sweetheart. She and her mother were living in a small
house in Collingwood. When we arrived at the door, it was opened by a
rather delicate ladylike woman, about forty years of age. She received
my brother with a pleasant smile; and I was introduced to Mrs Morell.
The young lady soon made her appearance, from an adjoining room; and,
after greeting my brother in a manner that gave me gratification to
witness, I was introduced to her.
Sarah Morell was, what might have been called by any one, a pretty girl.
She had not the beauty of my lost Lenore, nor was she perhaps even as
beautiful as my sister Martha; but there was a sweet expression in her
features, a charm in her smile, and a music in her gentle voice, that
were all equally attractive; and I could not help thinking, that my
brother had made choice of a woman worthy of his honest and confiding
love.
She talked but little, during the interview--allowing most of the
conversation to be carried on by her mother; but, from the little she
did say; and the glance of her eyes--as she fixed them on the manly form
of my brother--I could tell that he was beloved.
By that glance, I could read pride and reverence for the man upon whom
she had bestowed her heart; and that she felt for him that affection I
once hoped to win from Lenore.
How superior was my brother's fate to mine! He was beloved by the one
he loved. He was in her presence; and they were soon to be man and
wife. He was happy--happy as youth can be, when blessed with hope,
love, wealth, and health. I was happy also; but it consisted only in
seeing others blessed with the happiness, which I was myself denied.
After passing some hours in the cheerful companionship, of Mrs and Miss
Morell, my brother and I returned to our hotel--where we found `The
Elephant' in a very unamiable mood. He had just ascertained, that he
would have to stay three days longer in Melbourne: as there was no
steamer to start for Sydney before the third day from that time.
After a council held between my brother and myself, it was resolved that
I should go on to Sydney with the Elephant; and try to induce our sister
Martha to accompany me back to Melbourne. The pleasure of meeting a
long-lost brother, and of being present at his wedding, we hoped, would
be sufficient inducement to cause her to change her resolution, and
consent to live with relatives, who were only too anxious to support and
protect her.
Since William had been told of our mother's death, he appeared to take
much more interest in Martha's welfare; and urged upon me, not to come
back to Melbourne, without bringing her along with me. We could not, he
said, feel happy, returning to England, and leaving our sister alone in
the colonies.
I promised to use every effort in the accomplishment of his wishes--
which, of course, were but the echoes of my own.
Miss Morell, on hearing that her lover had a sister in Sydney, insisted
on the marriage being postponed, until Martha should arrive.
"I am willing to be married the very day your sister comes," said she,
adding in her artless manner, "I shall wait with great impatience until
I have seen her."
It is hardly necessary to say, that these conditions redoubled William's
anxiety for the speedy arrival of our sister; and, before taking leave
of him, I was compelled to make a most emphatic promise of a speedy
return. Olliphant, without knowing the object of my visit to Sydney,
was gratified to hear that we were to continue our travelling
companionship still further; and in joyous spirits we stepped aboard the
steamer bound to that place.
Volume Three, Chapter XIX.