it was easy to get a train from manchester to scotland. i went in the night train and had a nice sleeping compartment, through to glasgow, which i reached about 7 o'clock in the morning. i had been away for ten years, but the place looked so familiar, except that they had tramcars running all over the place. i got in one and was soon at dr. fargus' house. a male attendant opened the door and told me that mrs. fargus was at their summer house at the seaside. i asked for the daughter, and was told that she was at home. she was a married lady now. i saw her and she remembered me. i brought some wild flowers and shells for her mother from the cape. she was pleased and told me that they expected her mother back that night. she asked me to stay, and so the first night in scotland i was in what seemed to me my old, old home. it was a rest indeed.
mrs. fargus returned, and i had much to tell. my listeners looked appalled; i saw tears in that dear lady's eyes, because of the ungenerousness of my husband. they would have liked me to go back to them again for all time, but i could not, however much i wished to do so, and although it was indeed a home of gladness. i slept that night in my same old bed. and the next day i went to see mr. white, whom i had letters for, at mary hill, with his sons. he was in a bank in glasgow, and he had a daughter in adelaide. they had but one word to say—would i come there? they had no other daughter. how they came clinging close to hear every word i could tell about their girl. there were three sons, and they were in scotch volunteers and wore the kilts. in the evening they brought a lot more in with kilts on to see a woman from australia. i had one letter sent there. it was from captain alstone not to let me forget. i went then through the slamannan, and after travelling about so much it did not seem far. for a time the rush of memories was awful. i got into the old identical train with a ticket for slamannan. i cried all the way. i got there early in the afternoon. i could see no one whom i knew when i got out at the station, and i walked to the village. i saw one man whom i knew, and i made myself known to him. he took me to his home. his daughters and i were playmates as children.[pg 110] in walking along with him i passed the house where we lived. the door was open, and i could see the gooseberry bush that i had planted. i was not in mr. boyd's house five minutes before there had gathered a crowd of the people whom i used to know. certainly i was the object of so much eagerness and curiosity that it was a comedy. they said they came for "auld lang syne." they questioned me as to whether i had seen mr. so-and-so, who had gone to melbourne. and someone else who had gone to queensland. my brother-in-law's sister came and brought a large photo of her brother's place near geelong. i remembered the man before he went there. they thought it strange i had not been to see him, as he was a prosperous and a rich man.
in a way i wondered where the young man was who had for seven years played so big a part in my life. so full of bitter memories was i that i was thankful to learn that he had gone to wales. i was glad i did not see him. what would be the use? i shuddered at the thought. i was neither a wife nor a maid; i was nothing. it was a hard fate; yet i loved my own husband. he was so far from me and was lost for ever.
my visit to slamannan was almost too much for me. i found many kind friends to take me here and there till i was utterly weary. i spent nearly all my time out of doors. as i stood again amongst the wild heather for the time it seemed unreal and dreamlike.
after two weeks had passed i received a telegram, telling me to be in london on a certain date. i knew where the ship was at anchor. so i only stopped one more day in glasgow and got back by train to london. on board the city of adelaide there were a good many passengers returning, but i did not in any way have to attend or do any act of waiting, except on the lady and her little boy. i had a nice cabin to myself and every comfort, beside a free passage for my services. the vessel was a few days in the london docks, and i stopped on the ship with the lady. i saw more of london than i had ever thought of seeing, with the captain and his wife. they took me with them, and they were very good to me. we all went to a market one afternoon; and, just think of it, i saw the tops of turnips sold at 4d. a pound. and as to the meat, i will leave that.
i felt by the movement one morning while in bed that once again we were passing through the thames. how gently those sailing vessels seem to go along if the wind is favorable, but the city of adelaide began to roll about soon after leaving the river. there were more rough seas in her than when i was in the south australian. there was no note of calling anywhere en route. the lady was a good sailor and they had a nice piano on board, which the lady played and the captain sang. the captain and his wife practised with firearms on the poop at night. she seemed to enjoy it; they asked me if i would like to use the gun and try, so that if[pg 111] a mutiny should rise amongst the seamen there would be us three with pistols. i would not, and i could not. thanks be to goodness they were never wanted. i did not know what to think at the time, but afterwards i thought that they were merely joking with me and never thought any mutiny would rise. all went on so evenly with nothing but the glittering sea about that i loved so well.
i had no time to write much. the little boy's name was roland, and he and i were great friends. we went all over the ship, and knew all the sails by name. to hear roland calling out to the men to "let go" this or that made everyone laugh. there was a family returning to adelaide, and one of their sons died when about half-way through the voyage. it was very sorrowful, for it came so suddenly. i knew the people. there was a medical man on board, which made us feel grateful. so the days slipped by. the captain said we were rounding cape horn, and anyway the ship got into a regular shoal of whales. it was awful, for wherever you looked you would see those horrid monsters. it was a nice calm morning, and i had roland in my arms. he was in high glee, and started to make a hissing noise like them as they sent up jets of water, and the ship shook. when the captain got his gun and began shooting at them we were afraid of what they might do after being shot at. so much of them was under the water that the shots might not have the desired effect of killing them. i never knew if any were killed or not, but how thankful i felt when they left off firing. the nearness of the whales dazed us. everyone said it was out of the common to see so many. there was only the sky above and the waters around, while we were in what was like an island of whales. there was a sense of gratitude when i felt the ship glide gently away and leave those animals behind in a cluster. roland kept the memory up all through the homeward journey. he never tired of showing what the whales did. the ship did not call in anywhere all the voyage, but from the birds we saw there must have been land near at the time.
the young doctor's name was clark. he was coming to adelaide to practice. someone told him i had been in south australia, and he got chatting with me about the health of the people and the effect of the climate. i told him i had been in south australia for ten years, and that it had cost me nothing for medicine in all that time, and that i had never to consult a doctor. he said he hoped that there were not many more like me in adelaide, or he would have to go back. i learnt the name of the place he went to, but i have forgotten it. he shot a large bird and gave the skin to me. i had it made into a muff, and it is as good to-day as it was at first.
all the talk was concerning the time when the ship would be in port. needless to say i had nothing hopeful to remember, and i[pg 112] knew there would be little pleasure to have, as all had changed. life had now no allurements for me, and the outside world no temptations. i could not help these feelings as the city of adelaide was towed into port adelaide.
