"The man who was found at the bottom of a shaft on a range at the Plenteous River and was brought to Princetown to have his injuries attended to, is now conscious and in a fair way of recovery. But, whether from a set purpose or from the circumstance that his mental powers have been impaired from the injuries he received, he is singularly reticent about the affair. He has volunteered no information, and his answers to questions addressed to him throw no light upon the mystery. It is expected that several weeks will elapse before he can recover his strength. Meanwhile we have to record that gold has been found in paying quantities in the banks of the river and in the adjacent ranges, and it is calculated that there are already five hundred men at work there. Gold is also being discovered in various parts of the country between Princetown and the river, and a great many claims are being profitably worked. The rush of gold-diggers to Princetown continues, and men are pouring in every day. Yesterday the gold escort took down 4,300 ounces; it is expected that this quantity will be doubled next week. Our enterprising townsman, Mr. John Jones, of the famous Beehive Stores, is having a wooden building erected in which his extensive business will in future be transacted. We direct the attention of our readers to Mr. Jones' advertisement on our front page. The enterprising proprietor of the Royal Hotel has determined to construct a movable theatre, also of wood, which will be put up every evening in the cattle sale-yards adjoining his hotel when the sales of the day are over, and taken down after every performance to allow of the sales being resumed the next morning. This is a novel idea, and will be crowned with success. A first-class company is on its way to Princetown, and it is announced that the first performance will be given in a fortnight. Fuller particulars of these matters will be found in other columns. Our readers will observe that we have doubled the size of the Princetown Argus, which now consists of four pages. We have ordered an entire new plant, and upon its arrival shall still further enlarge our paper. Our motto is Onward."
It will be seen from these extracts that Newman Chaytor had carried out his cruel scheme to what he believed and hoped would be the end of the comrade he had plotted against and betrayed. But what man proposes sometimes fails in its purpose, and it was so in this instance. The merciful arrival of the two gold-diggers upon the scene saved Basil's life.
This last act of Chaytor's was easily accomplished. While Basil slept he crawled to the shaft, and by the moon's light weakened the strands of the rope some ten feet down. Then he crawled back to his bed, and tossed to and fro till the dawn of day.
"We'll work the claim till the end of the week," he said to Basil over breakfast, "and if it turns out no better, we will try the banks of the river again."
"Very well," said Basil. "I am truly sorry I don't bring you better luck, but we have something to go on with, at all events."
They walked to the shaft together, and Basil prepared to descend. Grasping the rope, he looked up at Chaytor, and Chaytor smiled at him. He responded with a cheerful look, for although the hopes in which he had indulged of returning to England with a fortune were destroyed, he had not abandoned his wish to leave the colony. He was sick of the life he was leading, and he yearned for a closer human sympathy. His share of the gold they had obtained would be close upon five hundred pounds--that was something; it would enable him to take passage home, to find Annette perhaps, to see and speak with her and renew the old bond; and if the worst happened, if he could not find Annette, or found her only to learn that the woman was different from the child, he could come back to Australia and live out his life there.
"Don't lose heart," he said to Chaytor; "we may strike the vein again this week. There's a bright future before you, I am certain."
"I half believe so myself," said Chaytor; "hoping against hope, you know." And thought, "Will he never go down?"
Basil gave one upward look at the floating clouds and descended. Chaytor bent over the mouth of the shaft, looked down, and listened.
"Is the rope firm?" Basil cried out.