"My God, I thank thee! At last--at last!" VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER NINETEEN. A STRANGE ENCOUNTER. It had been hard work to persuade her, but Mrs Hallam had consented at last to rest quietly in the embryo hotel, while Bayle obtained the necessary passes for her and her daughter to see Hallam. This done, he took the papers and letters of recommendation he had brought and waited upon the governor. There was a good deal of business going on, and Bayle was shown into a side room where a clerk was writing, and asked to sit down. "Your turn will come in about an hour," said the official who showed him in, and Bayle sat down to wait. As he looked up, he saw that the clerk was watching him intently; and as their eyes met, he said in a low voice: "May I ask if you came out in the _Sea King_?" "Yes; I landed this morning." "Any good news, sir, from the old country?" "Nothing particular; but I can let you have a paper or two, if you like." "Thank you, sir, I should be very glad; but I meant Ireland. You thought I meant England." "But you are not an Irishman?" "Yes, sir. Have I forgotten my brogue?" "I did not detect it." "Perhaps I've forgotten it," said the man sadly, "as they seem to have forgotten me. Ten years make a good deal of difference." "Have you been out here ten years?" "Yes, sir, more." "Do you know anything about the prisons?" The clerk flushed, and then laughed bitterly. "Oh, yes," he said; "I know something about them." "And the prisoners?" "Ye-es. Bah! what is the use of keeping it back? Of course I do, sir. I was sent out for the benefit of my country." "You?" "Yes, sir; I am a lifer." Bayle gazed at the man in surprise. "You look puzzled, sir," he said. "Why, almost every other man out here is a convict." "But you have been pardoned?" "Pardoned? No; I am only an assigned servant I can be sent back to the chain-gang at any time if I give offence. There, for heaven's sake, sir, don't look at me like that! If I offended against the laws, I have been bitterly punished." "You mistake my looks," said Bayle gently; "they did not express my feelings to you, for they were those of sorrow." "Sorrow?" said the man, who spoke as if he were making a great effort to keep down his feelings. "Ay, sir, you would say that if you knew all I had endured. It has been enough to make a man into a fiend, herding with the wretches sent out here, and at any moment, at the caprice of some brutal warder or other official ordered the lash." Bayle drew his breath between his teeth hard. "There, I beg your pardon, sir; but the sight of a face from over the sea, and a gentle word, sets all the old pangs stinging again. I'm better treated now. This governor is a very different man to the last." "Perhaps you may get a full pardon yet," said Bayle; "your conduct has evidently been good." "No. There will be no pardon for me, sir. I was too great a criminal." "What--But I have no right to ask you," said Bayle.