A special train from Southampton had just steamed into Waterloo with the passengers from the Royal Mail steamer Ophir.

Little groups of sunburnt men were greeting old friends upon the platform, surrounded by piles of luggage, canvas trunks and steamer chairs.

The demand for hansoms was brisk, cab after cab heavily loaded was rolling out of the yard.

There were grizzled men and men of fair complexion, men in white helmets and puggarees, and men in silk hats.

All sorts were represented there, from the successful diamond digger who was spasmodically embracing a lady in black jet of distinctly Jewish proclivities, to a sporting lord who had been killing lions.