‘So,’ he said rapidly in French, waving his hand towards the frowning cliffs, ‘so, my Pierre, we are in the land of promise; though I must confess’--with a disparaging shrug of the shoulders--‘it certainly does not look very promising: still, we are on dry land, and that is something after tossing about so long in that stupid boat, with only a plank between us and death. Bah!’--with another expressive shrug--‘why should I call it stupid? It has carried us all the way from New Caledonia, that hell upon earth, and landed us safely in what may turn out Paradise. We must not be ungrateful to the bridge that carried us over--eh, my friend?’ The man addressed as Pierre nodded an assent, then pointed towards the boat; the other looked up and saw that the tide had risen, and that the boat was drifting slowly away from the land. ‘It goes,’ he said coolly, ‘back again to its proper owner, I suppose. Well, let it. We have no further need of it, for, like Caesar, we have now crossed the Rubicon. We are no longer convicts from a French prison, my friend, but shipwrecked sailors; you hear?’--with a sudden scintillation from his black eyes--‘shipwrecked sailors; and I will tell the story of the wreck. Luckily, I can depend on your discretion, as you have not even a tongue to contradict, which you wouldn’t do if you had.’ The dumb man rose slowly to his feet, and pointed to the cliffs frowning above them. The other answered his thought with a careless shrug of the shoulders. ‘We must climb,’ he said lightly, ‘and let us hope the top will prove less inhospitable than this place. Where we are I don’t know, except that this is Australia; there is gold here, my friend, and we must get our share of it. We will match our Gallic wit against these English fools, and see who comes off best. You have strength, I have brains; so we will do great things; but’--laying his hand impressively on the other’s breast--‘no quarter, no yielding, you see!’ The dumb man nodded violently, and rubbed his ungainly hands together in delight. ‘You don’t know Balzac, my friend,’ went on the young man in a conversational tone, ‘or I would tell you that, like Rastignac, war is declared between ourselves and society; but if you have not the knowledge you have the will, and that is enough for me. Come, let us make the first step towards our wealth;’ and without casting a glance behind him, he turned and walked towards the nearest headland, followed by the dumb man with bent head and slouching gait.