bells.Therefore it is not at all wonderful that Archie was pleased to believethat some of these beautiful birds were screaming him a welcome to theland of gold.
Just at or near the end of the voyage half a gale of wind blew the shipconsiderably out of her course. Then the breeze went round to fairagain, the sea went down, and the birds came back; and one afternoon ashout was heard from the foretop that made Archie's heart jump for veryjoy.
"Land ho!"
That same evening, as the sun was setting behind the Blue Mountains,leaving a gorgeous splendour of cloud-scenery that may be equalled, butis never surpassed in any country, the _Dugong_ sailed slowly intoSydney harbour, and cast anchor.
At last! Yes, at last. Here were the golden gates of the El Doradothat were to lead the ambitious boy to fortune, and all the pleasuresfortune is capable of bestowing.
Archie had fancied that Sydney would prove to be a very beautiful place;but not in his wildest imaginings had he conjured up a scene of suchsurpassing loveliness as that which now lay before him, and around himas well.
On the town itself his eye naturally first rested. There it lay, milesupon miles of houses, towers, and steeples, spread out along the coast,and rising inland. The mountains and hills beyond, their ruggedgrandeur softened and subdued in the purple haze of the day's dyingglory; the sky above, with its shades of orange, saffron, crimson, opal,and grey; and the rocks, to right and left in the nearer distance, withtheir dreamy clouds of foliage, from which peeped many a lordly mansion,many a fairy-like palace. He hardly noticed the forests of masts; hewas done with ships, done with masts, for a time at least; but hisinmost heart responded to the distant hum of city life, that came gentlystealing over the waters, mingling with the chime of evening bells, andthe music of the happy sea-gulls.
Would he, could he, get on shore to-night? "No," the first officerreplied, "not before another day."
So he stood on deck, or walked about, never thinking of food--what isfood or drink to a youth who lives on hope?--till the gloaming shadesgave place to night, till the southern stars shone over the hills andharbour, and strings upon strings of lamps and lights were hungeverywhere across the city above and below.
Now the fairy scene is changed. Archie is on shore. It is the forenoonof another day, and the sun is warm though not uncomfortably hot. Thereis so much that is bracing and invigorating in the very air, that helongs to be doing something at once. Longs to commence laying thefoundation-stone of that temple of fortune which--let Captain Vesey saywhat he likes--he, Archie Broadbent, is bent upon building.
He has dressed himself in his very English best. His clothes are newand creaseless, his gloves are spotless, his black silk hat immaculate,the cambric handkerchief that peeps coyly from his breast pocket iswhiter than the snow, his boots fit like gloves, and shine as softlyblack as his hat itself, and his cane even must be the envy of everyyoung man he meets.
Strange to say, however, no one appears to take a very great deal ofnotice of him, though, as he glances towards the shop windows, he cansee as if in a mirror that one or two passengers have looked back andsmiled. But it couldn't surely have been at him? Impossible!
The people, however, are apparently all very active and very busy,though cool, with a self-possession that he cannot help envying, andwhich he tries to imitate without any marked degree of success.
There is an air of luxury and refinement about many of the buildingsthat quite impresses the young man; but he cannot help noticing thatthere is also a sort of business air about the streets which he hardlyexpected to find, and which reminds him forcibly of Glasgow andManchester. He almost wishes it had been otherwise.
He marches on boldly enough.
Archie feels as if on a prospecting tour--prospecting for gold. Ofcourse he is going to make his fortune, but how is he going to begin?That is the awkward part of the business. If he could once get in thethin end of the wedge he would quickly drive it home.
"There is nothing like ambition. If we steer a steady course."
Of course there isn't. But staring into a china-shop window will do himlittle good. I do not believe he saw anything in that window however.Only, on turning away from it, his foot goes splash into a pool of dirtywater on the pavement, or rather on what ought to be a pavement. Thatboot is ruined for the day, and this reminds him that Sydney streets are_not_ paved with gold, but with very unromantic matter-of-fact mud.Happy thought! he will dine.
The waiters are very polite, but not obsequious, and he makes a heartymeal, and feels more at home.
Shall he tip this waiter fellow? Is it the correct thing to tipwaiters? Will the waiter think him green if he does, or green if hedoesn't?
These questions, trifling though they may appear, really annoyed Archie;but he erred on the right side, and did tip the waiter--well too. Andthe waiter brightened up, and asked him if he would like to see aplaybill.
Then this reminded Archie that he might as well call on some of thepeople to whom he had introductions. So he pulled out a small bundle ofletters, and he asked the waiter where this, that, and t'other streetwas; and the waiter brought a map, and gave him so many hints, that whenhe found himself on the street again he did not feel half so foreign.He had something to do now, something in view. Besides he had dined.
"Yes, he'd better drive," he said to himself, "it would look better."He lifted a finger, and a hansom rattled along, and drew up by the kerb.He had not expected to find cabs in Sydney. His card-case was handy,and his first letter also.
He might have taken a 'bus or tram. There were plenty passing, and verylike Glasgow 'buses they were too; from the John with the ribbons to thecad at the rear. But a hansom certainly looked more aristocratic.
Aristocratic? Yes. But were there any aristocrats in Sydney? Wasthere any real blue blood in the place? He had not answered thosequestions to his satisfaction, when the hansom stopped so suddenly thathe fell forward.
"Wait," he said to the driver haughtily.
"Certainly, sir."
Archie did not observe, however, the grimace the Jehu made to anothercabman, as he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, else he wouldhardly have been pleased.
There was quite a business air about the office into which the young manushered himself, but no one took much notice of him. If he had had anolder face under that brand-new hat, they might have been more struckwith his appearance.
"Ahem! Aw--!" Archie began.
"One minute, sir," said the clerk nearest him. "Fives in fortythousand? Fives in forty are eight--eight thousand."
The clerk advanced pen in mouth.
"Do you come from Jenkins's about those bills?"
"No, I come from England; and I've a letter of introduction to your_master_." Archie brought the last word out with a bang.
"Mr Berry isn't in. Will you leave a message?"
"No, thank you."
"As you please."
Archie was going off, when the clerk called after him, "Here is MrBerry himself, sir."
A tall, brown-faced, elderly gentleman, with very white hair andpleasant smile. He took Archie into the office, bade him be seated, andslowly read the letter; then he approached the young man and shookhands. The hand felt like a dead fish's tail in Archie's, and somehowthe smile had vanished.
"I'm really glad to see your father's son," he said. "Sorry though tohear that he has had a run of bad luck. Very bad luck it must be, too,"he added, "to let you come out here."
"Indeed, sir; but I mean to make my for--that is, I want to make myliving."
"Ay, young man, living's more like it; and I wish I could help you.There's a wave of depression over this side of our little island atpresent, and I don't know that any office in town has a genteelsituation to offer you."
Archie's soul-heat sank a degree or two.
"You think, sir, that--"
"I think that you would have done better at home. It would be cruel ofme not to tell you the truth. Now I'll give you an example. Wea
dvertised for a clerk just a week since--"
"I wish I'd been here."
"My young friend, you wouldn't have had the ghost of a chance. We hadfive-and-thirty to pick and choose from, and we took the likeliest. I'mreally sorry. If anything should turn up, where shall I communicate?"
Where should he communicate? And this was his father's best friend,from whom the too sanguine father expected Archie would have aninvitation to dinner at once, and a general introduction to Sydneysociety.
"Oh, it is no great matter about communicating, Mr Berry; aw!--nomatter at all! I can afford to wait a bit and look round me. I--aw!--good morning, sir."
Away stalked the young Northumbrian, like a prince of the blood.
"A chip of the old block," muttered Mr Berry, as he resumed his deskwork.
From Squire to Squatter: A Tale of the Old Land and the New Page 17