Part 47 (1/2)

”Involved grammar,” said the Captain to himself, but, added aloud: ”A Churchman of your position, sir, will do me an honour by using my house; but the Mr. Maberly of whom I have so often heard from my friend Buckley will do me a still higher honour if he will allow me to enrol him among the number of my friends.”

Frank the Dean thought that Captain Brentwood's speech would have made a good piece to turn into Greek prose, in the style of Demosthenes; but he didn't say so. He looked at the Captain's stolid face for a moment, and said, as Sam thought, a little abruptly:

”I think, sir, that you and I shall get on very well together when we understand one another.”

The Captain made no reply in articulate speech, but laughed internally, till his sides shook, and held out his hand. The Dean laughed too, as he took it, and said:

”I met a young lady at the Bishop's the other day, a Miss Brentwood.”

”My daughter, sir,” said the Captain.

”So I guessed--partly from the name, and partly from a certain look about the eyes, rather unmistakeable. Allow me to say, sir, that I never remember to have seen such remarkable beauty in my life.”

They sat Frank down to supper, and when he had done, the conversation was resumed.

”By-the-bye, Major Buckley,” said he, ”I miss an old friend, who I heard was living with you; a very dear old friend,--where is Doctor Mulhaus?”

”Dear Doctor,” said Mrs. Buckley; ”this is his home indeed, but he is away at present on an expedition with two old Devon friends, Hamlyn and Stockbridge.”

”Oh!” said Frank, ”I have heard of those men; they came out here the year before the Vicar died. I never knew either of them, but I well remember how kindly Stockbridge used to be spoken of by everyone in Drumston. I must make his acquaintance.”

”You will make the acquaintance of one of the finest fellows in the world, Dean,” said the Major; ”I know no worthier man than Stockbridge.

I wish Mary Thornton had married him.”

”And I hear,” said Frank, ”that the pretty Mary is your next door neighbour, in partners.h.i.+p with that excellent giant Troubridge. I must go and see them to-morrow. I will produce one of those great roaring laughs of his, by reminding him of our first introduction at the Palace, through a rat.”

”I am sorry to say,” said the Major, ”that Tom is away at Port Phillip, with cattle.”

”Port Phillip, again,” said Frank; ”I have heard of nothing else throughout my journey. I am getting bored with it. Will you tell me what you know about it for certain?”

”Well,” said the Major, ”it lies about 250 miles south of this, though we cannot get at it without crossing the mountains, in consequence of some terribly dense scrub on some low ranges close to it, which they call, I believe, the Dandenong. It appears, however, when you are there, that there is a great harbour, about forty miles long, surrounded with splendid pastures, which stretch west further than any man has been yet. Take it all in all, I should say it was the best watered, and most available piece of country yet discovered in New Holland.”

”Any good rivers?” asked the Dean.

”Plenty of small ones, only one of any size, apparently, which seems to rise somewhere in this direction, and goes in at the head of the bay.

They tried years ago to form a settlement on this bay, but Collins, the man entrusted with it, could find no fresh water, which seems strange, as there is, according to all accounts, a fine full-flowing river running by the town.”

”They have formed a town there, then?” said the Dean.

”There are a few wooden houses gone up by the river side. I believe they are going to make a town there, and call it Melbourne; we may live to see it a thriving place.”

The Major has lived to see his words fulfilled--fulfilled in such marvellous sort, that bald bare statistics read like the wildest romance. At the time he spoke, twenty-two years ago from this present year 1858, the Yarra rolled its clear waters to the sea through the unbroken solitude of a primeval forest, as yet unseen by the eye of a white man. Now there stands there a n.o.ble city, with crowded wharves, containing with its suburbs not less than 120,000 inhabitants. A thousand vessels have lain at one time side by side, off the mouth of that little river, and through the low sandy heads that close the great port towards the sea, thirteen millions sterling of exports is carried away each year by the finest s.h.i.+ps in the world. Here, too, are waterworks constructed at fabulous expense, a service of steam-s.h.i.+ps, between this and the other great cities of Australia, vieing in speed and accommodation with the coasting steamers of Great Britain; n.o.ble churches, handsome theatres. In short, a great city, which, in its amazing rapidity of growth, utterly surpa.s.ses all human experience.

I never stood in Venice contemplating the decay of the grand palaces of her old merchant princes, whose time has gone by for ever. I never watched the slow downfal of a great commercial city; but I have seen what to him who thinks aright is an equally grand subject of contemplation--the rapid rise of one. I have seen what but a small moiety of the world, even in these days, has seen, and what, save in this generation, has never been seen before, and will, I think, never be seen again. I have seen Melbourne. Five years in succession did I visit that city, and watch each year how it spread and grew until it was beyond recognition. Every year the press became denser, and the roar of the congregated thousands grew louder, till at last the scream of the flying engine rose above the hubbub of the streets, and two thousand miles of electric wire began to move the clicking needles with ceaseless intelligence.

Unromantic enough, but beyond all conception wonderful. I stood at the east end of Bourke Street, not a year ago, looking at the black swarming ma.s.ses, which thronged the broad thoroughfare below. All the town lay at my feet, and the sun was going down beyond the distant mountains; I had just crossed from the front of the new Houses of Legislature, and had nearly been run over by a great omnibus. Partly to recover my breath, and partly, being not used to large cities, to enjoy the really fine scene before me, I stood at the corner of the street in contemplative mood. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked round,--it was Major Buckley.

”This is a wonderful sight, Hamlyn,” said he.