Jimmy Doherty was standing over him, and his dark skin beamed as he rolled the nautical phrases on his tongue. Denis got up without a smile.
"Don't remind me of the sea, Jimmy; help me to forget about it. And as for Melbourne, we shall never see it to-night."
"Sha'n't we though!"
"What! Fifty miles between midday and midnight?"
"It's not so much, and I've got us a lift half-way."
"But we can't afford that, Jimmy."
A shifty grin from Doherty betrayed a sort of guilty pride in his arrangements.
"I've got it for love, mister, from a hawker as only wishes he was a-goin' all the way, for the honour and glory o' carryin' a gent that's done what you've done and got himself in all the papers."
Denis was divided between natural satisfaction and annoyance.
"Very well, Jimmy, and I congratulate you; but, once and for all, never another word about that unless you're asked! We're mates now, remember; I might as well brag of it myself. Besides—but it's a bargain, isn't it?"