"One or two, but generally speaking, no one acknowledges that a possible Shakespeare or Dickens is embodied in me. I've sent plays to managers, which have been declined on the plea that all plays come from London. I have seen editors, and have been told there was no room on the press--publishers have seen me, and pointed out that a colonial novel means ruination--encouraging for the future brainworkers of Australia, isn't it?" "We must all serve our apprenticeship," answered Lazarus quietly. "The longest lane has a turning." "No doubt; but my particular lane seems devilish long." Ezra laughed, and they walked down Collins Street, watching the crowd of people hurrying along to business, the cabs darting here and there, and the cable tramcars sliding smoothly along. Pausing a moment near the Scotch Church, they heard a street organ playing a bright melody. "What tune is that?" asked Keith, as they resumed their walk. "Sounds awfully pretty." "Song from 'Prince Carnival,'" replied Ezra, referring to an opera then running at the Bon-Bon Theatre. "Caprice sings it." "Oh, Caprice. I'd like to see that opera," said Keith. "You might take me to the theatre to-night to see it." "Very well," assented Ezra. "You will like Caprice--she is very charming." "And if rumour speaks truly, very wicked." "Added to which, she is the best-hearted woman in the world," finished the Jew dryly. "What a contradiction," laughed Stewart. "Women are always contradictory--'tis a privilege of the sex." "And one they take full advantage of." This airy badinage came to an end somewhat abruptly, for just as they arrived near the Victoria Coffee Palace, they were startled by the shriek of a woman. On the other side of the street a gaudily-dressed girl was crying and wringing her hands, while a child of about seven years of age was standing paralysed with fear directly in the way of a tram-car that came rushing down the incline. The two men stood horror-struck at what seemed to be the inevitable death of the child, for, though the driver put on the brakes, the speed was too great, and destruction appeared inevitable. Suddenly Keith seemed to recover the use of his limbs, and, with a sudden spring, bounded forward and tore the child off the fatal track, himself falling together with the child to the ground. He was not a moment too soon, for hardly had he fallen before the car at a slower speed rolled past, and ultimately came to a standstill at the foot of the incline. Stewart arose to his feet considerably shaken, his clothes torn and covered with mud, and a painful feeling in the arm, on which he had fallen. Ezra crossed over to him, and the rescued child was standing on the footpath in the grasp of the gaudily-dressed girl who spoke volubly, regardless of the crowd of people standing by.