No, he said to himself, he could do no better for the children than to leave them there in that safe, happy and Christian home. He would keep track of them, he told himself, and if ever he should be able he would take them away. And without ever having looked upon the faces of his children he left California for Australia, shipping himself as a man before the mast on a large merchantman bound from San Francisco to Sydney. I must hasten over the remainder of The O’Melaghlin’s story. From the day of his embarkation for Australia he became a wanderer over the face of the earth, chiefly among the mines. His gold fever, suspended for a time by his grief for the loss of his wife, revived with tenfold force, so that “the last state of that man was worse than the first.” He visited Australia, Tasmania, the Sandwich Islands, New Zealand, Cape Colony and other places, but finally returned to Australia, where at last he found fortune. By the mere accident of idly poking his staff in the ground one day while sitting down to rest, on his way through the bush, he struck ore—rich gold—that turned out one of the greatest mines in that region. It would be tedious to tell all the processes by which he realized a colossal fortune, or by what slow degrees he returned to the worthy ambition of his youth to restore the fortunes of his family by repurchasing, at any advance of price, their lost land, and rebuilding, at any cost, their ruined castle. When he had renewed his resolution to do all this, he first thought of getting married to perpetuate the house of O’Melaghlin—although at this period of his life he was not at all a marrying man, preferring “the free, unhoused condition” of a bachelor. Then suddenly he recalled to mind his deserted and almost forgotten children. If these were living he had a son and a daughter to carry down his name to the future; for should his son be dead and his girl living, whoever should marry the heiress of The O’Melaghlin must take the name of O’Melaghlin. So, should either of his long neglected children be living, he need not be driven to get married at all—which would be a great relief. He settled up all his affairs in Australia and sailed for California. When he reached San Francisco he went immediately to the asylum where his children had been received. I need not follow the father in every step of the weary search he had in tracing them from the asylum to their places of apprenticeship; from these places—with the aid of skilful detectives—to the mining camp of Grizzly Gulch, from that to the fort and thence to New York. In New York, from the Wallings, he heard the most satisfactory news of both, but especially of the daughter, who, he was told, had married a wealthy young Englishman of ancient family and of large landed estate, and who had gone to England with her husband, taking her brother along with them.