Basil and Annette: A Novel

by B. L. Farjeon

"Always yours affectionately,

"Annette."

When he finished reading Annette's letter Newman Chaytor looked at the date and saw that it had been written a month earlier than the letter from the lawyers. Examining the postmark on the envelope he saw that it could not have been posted till three weeks after it had been written, and that it bore a French stamp.

"The little puss was not in England," he thought, "when she contrived to get this letter popped into the post. That shows that she was right in supposing that Uncle Gilbert was watching her. Sly old fox, Uncle Gilbert. He means to keep tight hold of the pretty Annette. Saint George to the rescue! I feel quite chivalrous, and as if I were about to set forth to rescue maidens in distress. She is not quite devoid of sense, this Annette; it will be an entertainment to have a bout with Uncle Gilbert on her behalf. He saw very little of Basil, and if we resembled each other much less than we do it would be scarcely possible for him to suspect that another man was playing Basil's part in this rather remarkable drama. Time, circumstance, everything is in my favour--but I wish the next few weeks were over."

The harsh cawing of crows aroused him from his musings. Their grating voices were a fit accompaniment to his cruel thoughts. With a set, determined face, and with a heart in which dwelt no compunction for the deed he was about to do, he turned his face towards the spot where Basil, unsuspicious of the fate in store for him, was awaiting the comrade in whom he had put his trust.

[CHAPTER XXIII.]

In Australia, as in all new countries where treasure is discovered or where land is not monopolised by the few, townships spring up like mushrooms. Some grow apace, and become places of importance; others, in which the promise which brought them into existence is unfulfilled, languish and die out, to share the fate of the township of Gum Flat, in which Basil had met the man who played him false. Shortly after the events which have been recorded, a party of prospectors halted in a valley some eight miles from the valley where Basil and Newman Chaytor had been working, and began to look for gold. Their search was rewarded, the precious metal was found in paying quantities, and miners flocked to the valley and spread themselves over the adjacent country. The name of one of the early prospectors was Prince, and a township being swiftly formed, there was a certain fitness in dubbing it Princetown. All the adjuncts of a town which bade fair to be prosperous were soon gathered together. At the heels of the gold-diggers came the storekeepers, with tents in which to transact their business, and drayloads of goods wherewith to stock their stores. The tide, set going, flowed rapidly, and in less than a fortnight Princetown was a recognised centre of the rough civilisation which reigns in such-like places. Storekeepers, publicans, auctioneers, plied their trade from morning till night, and the gold, easily obtained, was as easily parted with by the busy bees, who lived only for the day and thought not of the morrow. The scene, from early morning till midnight, was one of remarkable animation, replete with strange features which a denizen of old-time civilisation, being set suddenly in its midst, would have gazed upon with astonishment. Here was a cattle-yard, in which horses for puddling machines and drays, and sheep and oxen for consumption, were being knocked down to the highest bidder during ten hours of the day. A large proportion of the horses purchased by the miners were jibbers and buckjumpers, and a very Babel of confusion reigned in the High Street as they strove to lead away their purchases. Around each little knot of mates who had bought a jibber or a buckjumper a number of idlers gathered, shouting with derision or approval when the horse or the man was triumphant. Exciting struggles between the two were witnessed; men jumped upon unsaddled horses and were thrown into the air amid the yells of the spectators, only to jump on again and renew the contest. Here an attempt was being made to pull along a jibber, whose forelegs were firmly planted before it, while twenty whips were being cracked at its heels to urge it on in the desired direction. A dozen yards off, up and out went the heels of a buckjumping brute, scattering the crowd, and for a moment victorious. Nobody was seriously hurt, bruises being reckoned of no account by these wanderers from the home-land, who for the first time in their lives were breathing the air of untrammelled freedom. It was wonderful to observe the effects of the newer life which was pulsing in the veins of the adventurers. At home they would have walked to and from their work, or idled in the streets because work was not to be obtained, listless and spiritless, mere commonplace mortals with pale faces, and often hopeless eyes. Here it was as if fresh, vigorous young blood had been infused into them. The careless, easy dress, the manly belt with its fossicking knife in sheath, the ragged and graceful billycock hat, the lissome movements of their limbs, the hair flowing upon their breasts, transformed them from drudges into something very like heroes. Seldom anywhere in the world can finer specimens of manhood be seen than on these new goldfields; it is impossible to withhold admiration of the manlier qualities which have sprung into life with the free labour in which their days are engaged. It is true that liberty often degenerates into lawless licence, but the vicious attributes of humanity must be taken into account, and they are as conspicuous in these new scenes, mayhap, as in the older grooves; and although crime and vice are met with, their proportion is no larger--indeed, it is not so large--than is made manifest by statistics in the older orders of civilisation. Next to the cattle sale-yard is a small store in which the wily gold-buyer is fleecing and joking with the miner who comes to change virgin gold into coined sovereigns or the ragged bank notes of Australian banks. Next to the gold-buyer's tent is a stationer who, for the modest sum of half-a-crown, will give a man an envelope, a sheet of notepaper, and pen and ink, with which he can write a letter to a distant friend. It was an amazing charge, but it was not uncommon during the first few weeks of life on a new goldfield, and the wonder of it was that men who toiled in the old countries for little more than half-a-crown a day slapped down the coin without a murmur against the extortion. Next to the stationer was a canvas hotel, wherein thimblefuls of brandy and whiskey were retailed at a shilling the nobbler, and Bass's pale ale at two shillings the pint bottle. Then clothes stores, provision stores, general stores, dancing and billiard saloons, branches of great banks, with flags waving over their fronts, and all driving a roaring trade. The joyousness of prosperity was apparent in every animate sign that met the view, and a rollicking freedom of manner was established, very much as if it were an order of freemasonry which made all men brothers. Here was a man who in England never had three sovereigns to "bless himself with" (a favourite saying, which has its meaning) calling upon every person in sight--strangers to him, every man Jack of them--to come and drink at his expense at the usual shilling a thimbleful, throwing to the bartender a dirty banknote, and pocketing the change without condescending to count it. At present the circulation was confined to bank notes, sovereigns and silver money. Coppers were conspicuous by their absence, and, falling into miners' hands, would very likely be pitched away with scorn. The lowest price for anything was sixpence, whether it was a packet of pins or a yard of tape--a very paradise for haberdashers with their eternal three farthings. The man who was standing treat all round, and the more the merrier, had been a dockyard labourer in London, a grovelling grub, who at the end of the week had not twopence to spare, and probably would have been glad to accept that much charity from the hands of the kindly-hearted. In Princetown he was a lord, and just now seemed bent upon getting as drunk as one. He had struck a new lead, and on this day had washed out more than he would have received for two years' labour at home. Small wonder that his head was turned; small wonder for his belief that he was in possession of a Midas mine of wealth which would prove inexhaustible. Thus in varied form ran the story of these newly-opened goldfields with their delirious excitements and golden hopes. A new era had dawned upon mankind, and bone and muscle were the valuable commodities. So believed the miners, the kings of the land; the bush roads teemed with them, and a tramp of a hundred miles was thought nothing of. Their swags on their backs, they marched through bush and forest, and lit their camp fires at night, and sat round the blazing logs, smoking, singing, and telling bush yarns until, healthfully tired out with their day's labour, they wrapped themselves in their blankets and slept soundly with the stars shining on them. Up they rose in the morning, as merry as Robin Hood's men, and drawing water from the creek in which they washed, made their tea and baked their "damper," then shouldered their swags again, and resumed their cheerful march. Soldiers of civilisation they, opening up a new country in which fortunes were made and work honestly paid for. No room for that pestilential brood, the hydra-headed middleman, who pays the producer a shilling for his wares, and, passing it on from hand to hand delivers it to the consumer at six times its proper value. It is this multiplying process which makes life so hard to hundreds of thousands in the overcrowded countries of the old-world.

Some passing features of the sudden creation of Princetown have been given, but one remains to be introduced. Exactly twelve days from the discovery of gold in the valley, an ancient horse of lean proportions, dragging a crazy old waggon behind it, halted in the High Street in the early part of the day. By the side of the tired animal was a pale-faced man, who never once used his worn-out whip, but gave kindly words to his steed in the place of lashes. He was poorly dressed and looked wan and anxious. When he halted there descended from the waggon a woman as pale-faced and anxious as himself and a little girl brimming over with life and spirits. The woman was his wife, the little girl his daughter. The frontages to the most desirable allotments had been pegged out a long way north and south, and there were speculators who had no intention of occupying those allotments themselves, but were prepared to sell their rights to newcomers. After a few inquiries and some shrewd examination of the allotments, the man bargained for one in a suitable position, and became its owner. Then from the waggon was taken a tent of stout canvas, and while the old horse ate its corn and bent its head to have its nose stroked by the little girl, the man and woman set to work to build their habitation. In the course of the afternoon this was done, and then, after an al fresco repast, the waggon was unloaded of its contents. This process aroused the curiosity of the loungers in High Street, Princetown, the goods being of an unusual character. Mysterious looking articles were taken out of the waggon and conveyed with great care into the tent, and presently one onlooker, better informed than his comrades, cried:

"Why, it's a printing-office!"

A printing-office it was, of the most modest description, but still, a printing-office; that engine of enlightenment without which the wheels of civilisation would cease to revolve. The word was passed round, the news spread, and brought other contingents of spectators, and the canvas tent became a temple, and the pale-faced man a man of mark. Inside the temple the woman was arranging the type and cases, putting up without assistance two single frames and a double one; outside the man was answering, or endeavouring to answer, the eager questions asked of him, extracting at the same time, for his own behoof, such scraps of information as would prove useful to him. Pale as was his face, and anxious as was the look in his eyes, he was a man of energy and resource.