“I’m coming to it,” ses Bill. “Six months ago I was in Melbourne, and one day I was strolling about looking in at the shop-winders, when all at once I thought I see a face I knew. It was a good bit older than when I see it last, and the whiskers was gray, but I says to myself—” “I can see wot’s coming,” ses Mrs. Morgan, turning red with excitement and pinching Joe’s arm. “I ses to myself,” ses Bill Flurry, “either that’s a ghost, I ses or else it’s Charlie—” “Go on,” ses George Hatchard, as was sitting with ’is fists clinched on the table and ’is eyes wide open, staring at ’im. “Pearce,” ses Bill Flurry. You might ’ave heard a pin drop. They all sat staring at ’im, and then George Hatchard took out ’is handkerchief and ’eld it up to ’is face. “But he was drownded in the _Evening Star_,” ses Joe Morgan. Bill Flurry didn’t answer ’im. He poured out pretty near a tumbler of whisky and offered it to Mrs. Pearce, but she pushed it away, and, arter looking round in a ’elpless sort of way and shaking his ’ead once or twice, he finished it up ’imself. “It couldn’t ’ave been ’im,” ses George Hatchard, speaking through ’is handkerchief. “I can’t believe it. It’s too cruel.” “I tell you it was ’im,” ses Bill. “He floated off on a spar when the ship went down, and was picked up two days arterwards by a bark and taken to New Zealand. He told me all about it, and he told me if ever I saw ’is wife to give her ’is kind regards.” “_Kind regards_!” ses Joe Morgan, starting up. “Why didn’t he let ’is wife know ’e was alive?” “That’s wot I said to ’im,” ses Bill Flurry; “but he said he ’ad ’is reasons.” “Ah, to be sure,” ses Mrs. Morgan, nodding. “Why, you and her can’t be married now,” she ses, turning to George Hatchard. “Married?” ses Bill Flurry with a start, as George Hatchard gave a groan that surprised ’imself. “Good gracious! what a good job I found ’er!” “I s’pose you don’t know where he is to be found now?” ses Mrs. Pearce, in a low voice, turning to Bill. “I do not, ma’am,” ses Bill, “but I think you’d find ’im somewhere in Australia. He keeps changing ’is name and shifting about, but I dare say you’d ’ave as good a chance of finding ’im as anybody.” “It’s a terrible blow to me,” ses George Hatchard, dabbing his eyes. “I know it is,” ses Mrs. Pearce; “but there, you men are all alike. I dare say if this hadn’t turned up you’d ha’ found something else.” “Oh, ’ow can you talk like that?” ses George Hatchard, very reproachful. “It’s the only thing in the world that could ’ave prevented our getting married. I’m surprised at you.” “Well, that’s all right, then,” ses Mrs. Pearce, “and we’ll get married after all.” “But you can’t,” ses Alf. “It’s bigamy,” ses Joe Morgan. “You’d get six months,” ses his wife. “Don’t you worry, dear,” ses Mrs. Pearce, nodding at George Hatchard; “that man’s made a mistake.”