"And so am I, and a very lucky beggar, too. Now, don't put yourself about, or you'll have an apoplectic fit as sure as fate. You know what the doctor said. You do look as though you were going to have one this morning."
"Martin!" roared the passionate old man, "if you marry—"
"Don't go on. I know exactly what you are going to say. You will disinherit me. Eh? For goodness sake do it, and have done with it at once. That threat is quite worn out. Don't foam at the mouth, it's unseemly."
"Hush," said Margaret, laying her hand on Martin's arm. "Remember he is your uncle after all."
As the minutes sped by and no Alec appeared, Geordie began to grow terribly anxious lest, after all, Alec could not get at the gold in time, and that Wandaroo would, as it were, slip through their very fingers for the want of a single hour's work. He could not sit still, but fidgetted about the room in a state of sickening suspense. Every half minute he went out on to the verandah to see if the party were yet returning, and, as the minutes passed, and no Alec came, an awful feeling of despair began to creep over him. It was too cruel to be borne, that after all their labour, all their dangers, and all their sufferings, the gold they had won should yet be too late for its purpose. Margaret and Mrs. Law, having given up all hopes, and not understanding Geordie's excitement or Alec's sudden departure, were quite calm now that the hour had come.
Ten minutes to twelve; nine minutes to; eight minutes to; still no sign of Alec. Geordie was on the verandah, gazing eagerly across the paddock. Not the sound of a hoof could he hear. He could have yelled from the intensity of his distress and mortification; as it was he only thrust his hands deep into his trousers pockets, and grimly clutched their contents.
Seven minutes to twelve!
"We may as well go," said old Crosby, mopping his perspiring face. "It is no use our waiting."
"It isn't twelve yet," cried George, rushing into the room.
"Well, six minutes won't do much for you, I expect," said Tuckle.