There was the old Dutch city, situated on a plain rising by a gentle ascent to the base of the far-famed Table Mountain--the heights of which, viewed from the sea, bear some resemblance to the ruined walls of a Titanic fortress. There was the quaint castle with its broad fosse and regular outworks, and Forts Knokke and Craig defending the shore to the east of the city; whilst westward of the principal landing-place-- overlooked by the saddle-back hill, terminated at one extremity by the "Lion's Head," and at the other by the "Lion's Rump"--stood the fortifications known as the Rogge, Amsterdam, and Chavonne batteries, all of which commanded the anchorage and entrance to Table Bay, with their "thirty-twos" and formidable 68-pounders. "The old place looks just the same as it did five years ago," said Tom to himself as he leaned over the bulwarks, gazing landwards. "No change that I can see." In these go-ahead, high-pressure days, if we leave a town for any length of time it is hardly recognisable when we return: villas, "genteel residences," "emporiums," and hotels, the handiwork of Mr Jerry the speculative builder, cover the green fields where we were wont to play cricket and football; and even churches, chapels, and public institutions appear to have sprung up with mushroom-like rapidity. But fifty years ago things were very different--both in England and Cape Colony; people thought twice before they meddled with "bricks and mortar," remembering the good old saw--"Fools build houses for wise men to live in." Had our young friend left his native land in 1880 and returned in 1885, he would have opened his eyes with astonishment. The good citizens of Cape Town have manifested a wonderful "go-ahead" spirit of late! But Tom's eyes are no longer scanning the shore, for he is eagerly watching the port-captain's boat, as, manned by six stalwart Kroomen, it approaches the barque. "Tom," says Mr Weston, "I haven't seen my old friend Matthew Flinders for nearly a quarter of a century, but if he is not--halloa! where's the lad got to?" Tom had recognised the dear old _pater_ seated beside the port-captain, and as the boat pulled alongside he rushed down the accommodation ladder so as to be the first to welcome him. First greetings over, and the usual anxious questions answered, Tom thought of the Westons, and informed his father of their presence on board the barque; at the same time he briefly related the circumstances that led to their being there. The lad had set his heart upon having his new friends at Rustenburg, at any rate for the present; and he was not doomed to disappointment. Major Flinders at once hastened to meet his former school-fellow, and right cordially did he welcome him.