They found rough but clean accommodation in the village, and after the evening meal Leonard left the lovers alone, and went out to smoke and think. So far as a full purse and creature comforts went he was in clover. He had plenty of money, and was enjoying the best of everything. The cigar he was smoking was of the finest brand that could be obtained; when they stopped at good hotels every luxury that could be obtained was his; the largest rooms with the grandest views, the most famous vintages, the most delicate dishes--nothing was spared. But how long would it last? When the child was born a new interest would be created which was certain to be injurious to him. Curse them! He was but a pauper, after all, and what he enjoyed was at the will of another, to be continued or taken away at a moment's notice. And he did not trust Emilia. He trusted no woman. They were a false, selfish lot, thinking only of themselves, with no sense of justice. It was intolerable that he should be at the mercy of one of the falsest and most selfish of the crowd. He was out of the village now, and stood smoking and musing, facing a tremendous range. The evil thoughts by which he was animated were expressed in his face; being alone, as he thought, there was no reason for concealment, and although he generally kept perfect control over his features, there were rare occasions upon which he indulged in the luxury of frankness. This was such an occasion. He was mistaken in believing himself to be alone. A man, also smoking a good cigar, was sitting on a jutting rock, observing him. Leonard threw away the end of his cigar, and took another from his case. Then he took another from his case. Then he took out his matchbox, and found that it was empty. "The devil take it!" he muttered. "The whole world is against me!" Low as was the tone in which the words were spoken, the stranger heard them. "Allow me to offer you a light." Leonard started, and his countenance became instantly composed. The stranger laughed aloud. Irritated by the laugh, in which there was a malicious, if not a sinister note, Leonard turned on his heel. "Why so fast?" said the stranger, stepping to Leonard's side. "A match is a very simple offering for a friend to make." "A friend!" exclaimed Leonard, and looked the stranger full in the face. "Allow me to introduce myself anew," said the stranger. "Your memory is not good. Dr. Peterssen, at your service." "What, Peterssen!" cried Leonard. "The same." "I should never have recognized you," said Leonard, taking the lighted match and applying it to his cigar. "Small wonder. When we last met I was in low water, and my face was bearded. You remember me now?" "Yes, I remember you now." "Voices do not change. Let me see. It is eighteen months ago since we saw each other. Ballarat I think the place was. "Yes, it was on Ballarat." "A marvellous gold field, though we got none of the precious metal, partly from indolence, partly from ill luck."