them carry him on to the quarter-deck, where he said good-bye to all his men, and prayed for them. Then came the bitter end. One young sailor died just before him; another next day. All this time the Pearl was sailing southward to get cooler climate for the sufferers, and so it came to pass that they were within two days’ sail of Sydney when, on Friday, his spirit passed away. On Monday the Pearl, with her ensign half mast, and yard-arms topped on end,[5] in token of her burden of sorrow, re-entered the harbour, and the terrible news spread like wildfire. I think some blessed angel must have whispered the truth to poor Mrs Goodenough, for she positively _knew_ the moment the Government House orderly came to summon her cousin, Mr Stanley of Alderley, whose departure had providentially been delayed. The only word he had to utter was “Santa Cruz.” That afternoon she was able to go on board and sit for three hours beside him (in the little cabin where they had spent so many happy hours, and where they always spent most of Sunday, going on board for service with the men). That was the one great comfort. On Wednesday she was able to follow him to the grave, with her two little sons. It was an immense public funeral. All the sailors, marines, naval reserve, training-ship, N.S.W. artillery, all public men, and thousands of citizens attended. His coffin was on one gun-carriage; those of the two sailors on another. They were laid on either side of him. He was only forty-four, and they were each about twenty years of age.... I don’t suppose you can fully realise how _home_ this comes to us all. We have been so much thrown together, and we expected the Commodore to be so valuable an ally for Sir Arthur. To him the loss is not only that of a reliable friend, but literally of a right hand. And it is so disheartening that this second terrible shadow should overcloud the beginning of his work. It was bad enough before, when the awful scourge of measles was sweeping over the Isles, which literally carried off one-fourth of the whole population, marking the beginning of British rule for ever as a time of misery. You see my surroundings have become of awful earnest, instead of the merry little joke which I thought I was taking up in coming to Fiji. Not that I regret having come. On the contrary, I only rejoice to think that about ten days hence, if all is well, we shall be on our way there. A company of Royal Engineers are expected by the Whampoa in a few days, and as soon as they arrive, the Egmont is to take them and us to Fiji. I am glad to hear they are commanded by our old friend Colonel Pratt. I will write again in a few days. * * * * * DUNTROON, NEAR THE MURRUMBIDGEE HILLS, N.S. WALES, _Sept. 2_.