At the Sign of the Silver Flagon

by B. L. Farjeon

Now commenced the process of washing-up. The deposit in the tubs was panned off in ordinary gold-washing dishes, the quicksilver with its precious treasure being put into a separate tub, and the waste earth which the quicksilver refused to embrace thrown aside in a little heap, as though it were of no account. This waste refuse was considered to belong, by right, to the proprietor of the crushing machine, and consisted chiefly of iron pyrites; it was a valuable privilege, producing a good many ounces of gold to the ton sometimes. The quicksilver, having all been extracted, lay in a silky white mass in the large tub. The strongest man could not have lifted it. The precious liquid was ladled carefully into skins of chamois leather, which, when fairly filled, were squeezed tight over buckets of clear water. The quicksilver which did not contain gold oozed out in silver tears, and wept into the water; it might truly be said that it was alive, argentum vivum. There then remained a thick solid mass of white metal. If you took up a handful of it, you could feel the beaten lumps and nuggets of gold which it concealed from view. The last process was the retorting of the metals. The quicksilver and the gold were deposited in the retort, a spherical vessel, to the cover of which was fixed a slender curved tube, up which the heated quicksilver ascended, as smoke ascends a chimney. This retort, with its precious treasure, was plunged into a fiery furnace, and heated to a white heat. Through the curved tube the boiling quicksilver rose in a silver stream, and rained into the tub of water which lay to receive it; gradually the stream grew less, and when the last few globules of pretty silver spray had fallen, the retort was unscrewed, and a large mass of molten gold, lit up by the most lovely colours, that seemed to flash and play upon its breast with fairy's touch, was exposed to view.

When Margaret, who was present, saw the pretty sight, she clasped her hands, and cried, "O! O! O!" which round circles stand for as much delight and admiration as could be expressed in three pages.

Philip and the rest looked on with sparkling eyes. "What's the weight of it?" asked William Smith. Philip, who was a novice in the matter of cakes of gold, guessed it at four hundred ounces.

"At four pounds an ounce," said William Smith, ever ready for a bargain, "that's sixteen hundred pounds. I'll give two thousand pounds for it as it stands."

Philip would have consented right away, but his more experienced mate laughed at William Smith, and with a knowing look said it would be a thousand pities to make him a loser by his enterprise. William Smith nodded cheerfully, and winked at the shrewder man, as much as to say, "We two are a match for each other!" Then they stood in silence about the retort, waiting for the metal to cool, and gazing at it with an interest as great as that of a fond father who gazes at the cot in which his child is sleeping. When all the rainbow-colour had died out of the gold, and it had become solidified, the cake was put into the scales. It turned fifty-six pounds troy--six hundred and seventy-two ounces. Deducting one hundred and fifty ounces, that being William Smith's payment for crushing the fifty tons of stone, at three ounces per ton, there remained five hundred and twenty-two ounces of pure gold, which Philip sold at sixpence less than four pounds an ounce, receiving in hard cash two thousand and seventy-four pounds nineteen shillings. William Smith obtained threepence an ounce more for his hundred and fifty ounces.

This business being satisfactorily concluded, Philip went to the Rose, Shamrock, and Thistle, and made out a fair statement, showing the value of Mr. Hart's share in the gold obtained, Margaret looking over his shoulder the while.

"Just listen to me, Margaret," said Philip.

They laid their heads together for five minutes, at the expiration of which Margaret ran away, and returned enveloped in a large overcoat, which reached to her heels, and with a billycock hat slouched over her head. In that disguise she, followed by Philip, went in search of Mr. Hart. They found him on the stage, giving directions to the property-man.

"Rowe versus Hart," said Margaret, in a gruff voice, tapping him on the shoulder, and thrusting the balance-sheet into his hand in the form of a writ, "suit for two hundred and fifty pounds. If not paid. in five minutes, instant execution is ordered."

Mr. Hart peered beneath the slouched hat, and recognised Margaret. His lips being very close to Margaret's laughing face, he took an unfair advantage of her, and kissed her.