Accordingly I proceeded to Melbourne as soon as I could, and the only noteworthy incident there was my humorous interview with the French Consul.

I addressed that dignified functionary in execrable French, telling him that I was a French subject and wanted to be sent back to Europe.

I bungled a great deal, and when my French failed I helped myself out with English.

The Consul waited patiently till I had finished, stroking his beard the while, and looking at me in the most suspicious manner.
"You claim this because you are a Frenchman ?" he said.
"That is so," I replied, involuntarily relapsing into English once more.
"Well," he said coldly, as he turned away, "the next time you say you are a Frenchman you had better not use any English at all, because you speak that language better than I do." I tried to argue the point with him, and told him I had been shipwrecked, but when I went on to explain how long ago that shipwreck was, he smiled in spite of himself, and I came away.

From Melbourne I went to Sydney, and from Sydney to Brisbane.
About May 1897, I found myself in Wellington, New Zealand, where I was advised I stood an excellent chance of getting a ship to take me to England.