"I am almost ashamed to say that my father was transported to Australia for life; but he was innocent of the charge against him, and it has since been made manifest; but government refuse to give him his liberty, and he is still a convict."
"What was the charge upon which he was convicted?" asked Smith, with breathless anxiety.
The woman hung her head and remained silent; and Smith was obliged to repeat his question before he obtained an answer. His pertinacity seemed cruel, but he had an object in view.
"He was charged with the death of my mother," she answered, her voice stifled with tears.
"And your name before you were married was—"
"Mary Ogleton."
"It is the same," muttered Smith; but instead of revealing the good news to her, he waited to hear the balance of her history since leaving Melbourne. A few soothing words, and she continued,—
"Ten months since we had letters from my father, strongly urging us to come to him, as he thought my husband would make a better living here than in England. We were the more inclined to follow his advice, as the letters contained drafts for money to help us pay our passage, which we otherwise should not have been enabled to have done."
"Tell us about your journey since leaving the city," cried Smith, "for we already know your history before that period."