It was necessary to relate the events
recorded in them, but we must take a leap of not far short of two years
from the date of their occurrence.
John Massingbird and his attendant, Luke Roy, had arrived safely at
Melbourne in due course. Luke had written home one letter to his mother,
and there his correspondence ended; but John Massingbird wrote
frequently, both to Mrs. Verner and to his brother Frederick. John,
according to his own account, appeared to be getting on all one way. The
money he took out had served him well. He had made good use of it, and
was accumulating a fortune rapidly. Such was his statement; but whether
implicit reliance might be placed upon it was a question. Gay John was
apt to deceive himself; was given to look on the bright side, and to
imbue things with a tinge of _couleur de rose_; when, for less sanguine
eyes, the tinge would have shone out decidedly yellow. The time went on,
and his last account told of a "glorious nugget" he had picked up at the
diggings. "Almost as big as his head," a "fortune in itself," ran some
of the phrases in his letters; and his intention was to go down himself
to Melbourne and "realise the thousands" for it.
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