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Robert Foster and his daughter saw Edgar sail in the Distant Shore, and waved him a tearful farewell.

As Edgar stood looking at them he felt lonely, and when they gradually receded from his sight he heaved a sigh, and felt a choking sensation in his throat.

When Robert Foster and Doris reached Elm Lodge again he kissed her fondly, and said in a broken voice:

‘God knows when we shall see him again, Doris. You are all I have left now; you must not leave your father.’

‘Edgar will return some day,’ she said quietly. ‘I will take his place until then. When he comes back you will forget all the sorrow of parting.’

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Hundreds of people hurrying to business in Sydney at an early hour in the morning cast anxious eyes at the dull leaden sky, across which heavy clouds rolled, hanging over the harbour and the city. They also gazed in wonderment, and with feelings not devoid of awe, upon a mass of peculiar white clouds banked up in an exactly opposite direction to the harbour. These clouds were of a fleecy whiteness, balloon-shaped, and clung together until they were heaped almost mountains high.