we could effect the rescue of the man for whom we had been searching.
At last we turned the cape and entered the bay which constituted the north end of the island. It was not a large beach, but had, at its western end, a curious line of small cliffs, in the centre of which we could make out a small black spot looking remarkably like the entrance to a cave. Towards this we pressed, forgetting our weariness in the excitement of the search.
It was a cave, and a large one. So far the letter was correct.
Preparing ourselves, in case of surprise, we approached the entrance, calling Mr. Wetherell's name. As our shouts died away a voice came out in reply, and thereupon we rushed in. A remarkable sight met our eyes. In the centre of the cave was a stout upright post, some six or eight feet in height, and to this, securely tied, was the Colonial Secretary of New South Wales.
In less time almost than it takes to tell we had cast loose the ropes which bound him, and then led him—for he was too weak to stand alone—out into the open air. While he was resting he inquired after his daughter, and, having learned of her safety, gave us the following explanation. Addressing himself to me, he said:
"When you called 'Make for the boats!' I ran up the hill with the others as fast as I could go. But I'm an old man, and could not get along as fast as I wanted to, and was soon left far behind. I was half way down the hill, perhaps, when a tall man, dressed in white, stepped from behind a bush and, raising a rifle, bade me come to a standstill. Having no time to lift my own weapon, I was obliged to do as he ordered me, and he thereupon told me to lay down my rifle and right about face. In
