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come straight off with me next Monday—I want company on the voyage. Will you?”

“Will I? But I can’t say thank you—I———”

“Don’t,” said Robertson, and held out his hand. Tony clutched it; he literally could not speak.

“That’s decided then.”

“But—will they let me go?”

“Nonsense, how could ‘they’ stop you?”

“Oh, you don’t know. It’s—it’s been so long, and there’s never time to sleep, and I’m getting afraid—they’re making me afraid and I hate it.” He hid his face.

“Well, I’ll talk to them. Don’t you worry. There’s nothing to be afraid of really.”

There was a long pause, at the end of which Tony raised his head. “What do you want to see now?”

“Oh—nothing just now. I’ve had enough of sight-seeing for one day.”

Another pause, and Tony spoke again with a touch of anxiety. “Are there horses on your station?”

“Heaps of horses.”

“Ah—h! And cattle?”

“Not many—it’s a sheep-station.”

“And can I learn to ride?”

“You must.”

“I’ve never ridden properly—only in baby-ways. And will I learn other things too?”

“Yes, you’ve a lot to learn. Swimming, and shooting, and—all sorts of things.”

“Good—oh, good!” said Tony, and fell into a happy dream which lasted till they reached the hotel. Once there, the darkness closed over him again, but he was strong and refreshed with the food and sleep, and stronger still with the knowledge of coming freedom that he hugged to himself, and nothing mattered now.