But Prometesky had fallen to the lot of a harsh, rude
master, who hated him as a foreigner, and treated him in a manner
that roused the proud spirit of the noble. The master had sworn that
the convict had threatened his life, and years of working in chains
on the roads had been the consequence.
It was no time for entertaining a petition on his account, and before
the expiration of this additional sentence Ambrose was dead.
By that time Eustace, now a rich and prosperous man, would gladly
have taken his old tutor to his home, but Prometesky was still too
proud, and all that he would do was to build a little hut under a
rock on the Boola Boola grounds, where he lived upon the proceeds of
such joiner's and watchmaker's work as was needed by the settlers on
a large area, when things were much rougher than even when my nephews
came home. No one cared for education enough to make his gifts
available in that direction, except as concerned Harold, who had, in
fact, learnt of him almost all he knew in an irregular, voluntary
sort of fashion, and who loved him heartily.
His health was failing now, and to bring him home was one of Harold's
prime objects, since London advice might yet restore him. Harold had
made one attempt in his cause at Sydney, sending in a copy of his
father's dying statement, also signed by his uncle; but though he was
told that it had been received, he had no encouragement to hope it
would be forwarded, and had been told that to apply direct to the
Secretary of State, backed by persons from our own neighbourhood,
would be the best chance, and on this he consulted Mr.
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