‘You are a rich man now, Lindsay; and if you choose you may do something towards realizing those schemes of colonization which in your book, “England’s Hope,” you recommend to all wealthy philanthropists. At least you may as well spend the money in that way; for I feel certain you will get rid of it before long, in one way or another. As for “England’s Hope,” it has made quite a sensation. It is talked of and quoted everywhere; and really your doctrine that the unskilled labourers who are starving should be helped to emigrate to Australia in large numbers, and settled on virgin land by the two Governments, seems to me the only practical way of solving the difficulty. I quite agree with you in this, that we may expect the agricultural labourers to find less and less work on English farms, so that the distress which comes round as regularly every winter as the first of November, must grow worse every year, unless it is relieved by a remedy which will be in some degree commensurate with the evil. ‘But we will talk over all this when we meet. What I want to impress upon you is that you must, as soon as this reaches you, saddle your horse, and make for the nearest seaport. Take the first steamer for England, and as soon as you land come straight to Brighton. We shall be here for four or five months at least. I want to have a long chat with you, and my wife wants to show you the baby, whose faculties (according to his mother) are well-nigh superhuman, and whose beauties and graces are infinite. ‘By the way, we lighted upon an old acquaintance of yours the other day, Miss Mowbray. Poor girl, I fancy she has rather a hard life of it. She foolishly invested the greater part of her little fortune in a company which paid high dividends long enough to enable the promoters to sell their shares, and then went to smash. So she lives with some relations as a sort of nursery-governess to a pack of preternaturally ugly children. But I fancy her hard fortune has improved her. My wife has taken a great fancy to her, chiefly, I believe, on account of her courage in giving evidence on a certain occasion, and on account of her refusing James Semple, when he wanted to marry her last year. ‘Now, good-bye, and remember to come to Brighton the moment your ship comes in. ‘Yours always, ‘HUBERT BLAKE.’ By the time Alec’s pipe was finished, Bill Cutbush had returned to the hut. He was very quiet and subdued in his manner. Evidently the contents of his letter had touched him deeply; but he said not a word about it.