shown during the two preceding administrations;
but I am, nevertheless, disposed to
think that Sir Ralph Darling rushed into
the opposite extreme, and by the adoption of
so severe a code led to those dissensions
between the governed and the governing
which convulsed the colony till the arrival of
his successor, Sir Richard Bourke.

"But what became of Annie Saint Felix?"
I asked.

She remained with the Prestons for five
years. She was to them a perfect treasure—
acting, as she did, as housekeeper, nurse, and
governess. Go whenever you would into the
house, you found Annie always busily engaged,
and yet always in demand. From morning
till night, from one quarter or the other,
there was a call for Annie! So patiently, and
so quietly, too, did she perform her multifarious
duties, that it was really a pleasure to
watch her movements. Captain and Mrs.
Preston respected her; their children loved
her tenderly; the male convicts on the
estate obeyed her orders with cheerfulness,
and the female convicts (this was, perhaps,
the highest testimonial in her favour)
abstained from reminding her that she was only
their equal. As for the guests who were
entertained by the Prestons, they not only
admired Annie's pretty person and most
decorous demeanor, but they envied the lady
of the house and her extraordinary good
fortunes. I need scarcely say that she was
treated as a gentlewoman, who, when a young
girl, had assisted in the commission of the
greatest of all crimes under very peculiar
if not extenuating circumstances, and whose
conduct, apart from her crime, was entirely
blameless. She did not, of course, sit at the
same table with her employers (I cannot
speak of them as master and mistress), but she
had a room to herself, and seemingly
comprehended her position so completely, that
she was never guilty of the slightest
encroachments.

After the birth of her eleventh child,
Mrs. Preston had a very serious and painful
illness. Annie tended her with all that care
and affection of which her gentle nature was
so capable; and, at the same time, kept the
house quiet, the establishment in order, and
Captain Preston's wants (he was selfish and
exacting, though a well-bred man, and a
perfect gentleman) ministered unto in every
respect. But Mrs. Preston sank under her
grievous malady—and died, to the great
sorrow of every one who had enjoyed her
acquaintance.

For a year after his wife's death Captain
Preston, never left his home—never went
beyond the precincts of his own domain.
But, at the expiration of that period, he paid
us a visit, and as it was near our dinner
hour, six o'clock, we invited him to stay and
partake of the meal with us. He assented.
We offered to send over a groom to his
house to make known that he might not be
expected until after ten or eleven. He replied
that we need not do so, as he had intimated
to Annie that he intended to stay the
night at Macquarie Dale (such was the name
of our estate). We were rejoiced to hear this,
albeit there was something in Captain Preston's
manner and discourse which betokened
that he was very unquiet and unsettled in his
mind.

During dinner, and for some time afterwards,
the Captain was not only absent,
silent, or incoherent when he spoke, but he
glared occasionally at the Major and myself
after a very odd and suspicious fashion. The
dinner over, the cloth removed, and the
dessert placed upon the table, our guest
said that his object in paying us a visit that
day was to impart some information, and
that he hoped and trusted the course he
was about to pursue would not involve the
forfeiture of our friendship. "You are
aware," proceeded Captain Preston, "of the
situation in which I was placed, when I had
the misfortune to lose my wife, notwithstanding
I could command the services of one
on whom such implicit confidence could be
placed. I allude of course to Annie Saint
Felix. To all of my children, from my
daughter, who is now verging into womanhood,
down to the little one, which can
scarcely walk alone, her behaviour has been
such that my esteem and regard for her has
at length resolved itself into an ardent affection.
I love Annie Saint Felix, and if she
will accept the offer I am about to make her,
she shall become my wife. Yes, I will
marry my bondswoman, for in strictness, that
is her title. Whatever may be the opinion of
the world I will brave it."

"She is a worthy creature," said the
Major, heartily, "and, with such a partner,
there would be no particular valour in
braving the opinion of the world. In the
presence of my own wife, I desire to tell you,
Preston, that, if I were in your position,
my own feelings should be my sole
counsellor."

"You are silent," said the Captain,
addressing me, and placing his elbow on the
table, he rested his head on the palm of his
hand, his long brown hair standing out
between his white and tapered fingers. He
gazed at me very intently when he uttered
those three words—" You are silent."

"I was thinking," I replied to him, in a
solemn tone of voice, and meeting his gaze
with one of equal intensity, "of a scene which
I should never have mentioned, or alluded
to, had it not been for what you have just
stated."

"What scene?" he demanded, rather
abruptly.

"A scene that occurred on the night which
preceded that of your wife's death. I was
with her, if you remember. Annie Saint
Felix, worn out and exhausted by continual
watching, had fallen asleep in the arm-chair.