When the blacks saw the boat load of turtle, they gave vent to their joy and danced about the deck. "You'll see how they gorge themselves to-night," said Phil, "it is enough to make a man cry off turtle for ever to watch them." "Then I propose we leave them to it," said Jack. "I do not want to spoil my appetite." The cargo was hauled on board, and the schooners were soon under weigh, Harry Marton remaining on the "Heron" for the night. There was very little breeze, and the movement was scarcely perceptible. It was a glorious night, the sun shining on the water and illuminating the coast line. The air was pure and cool, and as Jack Redland sat alone at the stern of the schooner, his thoughts commenced to wander to a far different scene thousands of miles away. He wondered what Sir Lester and Winifred were doing, and what she would have thought of such an experience as he had just gone through. What a contrast it all was to the beautiful Sussex landscape over which he had so often looked from The Downs. Here he was on a pearling schooner, nearing the northernmost point of Australia, and yet his mind was very far away, and his memory lingered over the sights and sounds of Brighton, and the hum of the racecourse. Certainly he was dozing, yet he was half awake; he knew he was smoking, and that the wreaths from his pipe were curling away in the wake of the schooner, and yet he fancied he scented the smell of new mown hay, and in a dim sort of light saw banks covered with primroses and hedgerows budding green, the trees opening out their leaves, the birds nesting, others teaching their young to fly. It mattered not that primroses and new mown hay did not harmonise, it was what he felt and saw, jumbled together in a delightful tangle from which he made no effort to extricate himself. Now he was on Lewes racecourse and felt the wind whistle past his face, and buzz in his ears, as he made a desperate effort to land Topsy Turvy first past the post. He heard the shouts of the crowd, the roar of the excited backers, and then the next moment he knew he had won, and Sir Lester was congratulating him, and better than all, Winifred was there, all smiles. He heard Job Seagrave's sonorous voice, and smiled in his half awake land of dreams. He was sitting down on a primrose bank and a gypsy stood looking at him. He held out his hand and she read his fate, he was to claim his own at last. He saw a fair young girl with arms outstretched pleading for him to stay and not venture forth upon his mad quest. He felt her warm form as he pressed her to him, snatched a kiss, and hurried away. His pipe dropped, and the noise startled him from his reverie. He sat up and looked around wonderingly, hardly realising his whereabouts. A moment ago he was in Sussex, now he was in reality coasting in North-West Australia, and the little schooner was making good headway.