Within a week of the visit to Wilton, Harry was at his new abode in Herefordshire, and his father once more had joined his vessel.
It had been a sad parting from Wilton. But they had work before them both; and though their hearts sorely ached at saying good-bye to that grassy mound in Wilton churchyard, Alan spoke to his boy (feeling, himself, the truth of what he spoke), in the words of the noble-hearted American poet:
"Life is real, life is earnest,
And the grave is not its goal!"
And again,
"Let us then be up doing,
With a heart for any fate,
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait."
CHAPTER XX.
AVENGED AT LAST.
Homeward bound—Man overboard—Self-sacrifice—Noble revenge.
Fifteen years since Harry Campbell landed in Australia, a fine, stalwart, young man of nineteen! Fifteen years of toil, crowned by success, and he was on his way to England; home to his father, a quiet, grey, old man of some three score years; home to Wilton, where the sailor had taken up his abode, near his loved one's grave, in the farm, still kept by Mrs Valentine!