Liddell was greatly surprised.  He mechanically took the hand offered to him, and looking earnestly into her face, exclaimed, “Who are you?”

“Katherine Liddell, your uncle Frederic’s daughter.”

He dropped—­indeed, almost threw—­her hand from him.  “What!” he cried, “are you the supplanter, who took all without an inquiry, without an effort to find out if I were dead or alive?”

“Sit down—­sit down—­sit down,” repeated Newton, still confused.  “Let us talk over everything.  As to trying to find you, we never dreamed of finding you, considering that twelve, fourteen years ago we had an account of your death from an eye-witness.”

“Cowardly liar!  It was worth a Jew’s ransom to see him turn white and drop into a chair when I confronted him the day before yesterday.”

“Why did you not communicate with me on hearing of your father’s death?”

“When do you think I heard of it?  Do you fancy I sat down in the midst of my busy day to pore over the births, deaths, and marriages in a paper, like a gossiping woman?  Kith and kin were dead to me long ago.  What did I care for English papers?  What had my life or the life of my poor mother been that I should give those I had left behind a thought?” He paused, and taking a chair, looked very straight at Katherine.  “Now I shall tell you my story, once for all, to show you that there is no use in disputing my rights.  You know”—­addressing Newton—­“how my life was made a burden to me, and that I ran away to sea, ready to throw myself into it rather than return to my miserable home.  After several voyages I found myself at Sydney.  A young fellow who had been my mate on the voyage out, an active, clever chap, proposed that we should start for the gold fields; so we started.  It was a desperate long tramp, but we reached them at last.  Life was hard and rough, and for a time we worked and worked, and got nothing.  At last we found a pocket, just as we were going to give up, and having secured a fair lot of gold, we divided our gains and determined to leave the camp, which was not too safe for a successful digger, before the rest knew of our treasure-trove.  We decided to trudge it to the nearest place where we could buy horses, and then to make our way to Sydney as fast as we could.  Somehow it must have got out that we had gold, for as the dusk of evening was closing round us on the second day of our march we were attacked by some men on horseback—­bush-rangers, I suppose.  We showed fight, and I was hit in the shoulder.  At the same time I stumbled over a stump, and pitched on to my head, which stunned me.  Just then, it seems, the sound of horses approaching frightened the scoundrels, and they made off.  My mate, not knowing whether the new-comers were friends or foes, he says, got away as fast as he could.  His story is that as soon as all was still he crept back, and finding me apparently quite dead, went on to report the catastrophe at the first road-side inn he came to. I believe that, thinking me dead, he took all my gold, and said precious little about me.”