Taffy stood, opening and shutting his huge mouth for a moment or two, then he dashed his hair—or something else—out of his eyes, and turned savagely upon the rest.
“She’s right,” he said. “If she’s got to go, she’s got to go. Three Star ain’t going to stand in her way. We’ll give her a good send-off, boys. Come down to Dan’s and let’s get out the programme.” And almost in silence the crowd went down the hill again.
“God bless my soul!” said Mr. Pinchook. “What a dreadful set of men!”
Varley only smiled.
Esmeralda’s tears flowed freely as she packed the small bundle which she was to carry on the saddle in front of her, and Mother Melinda, too utterly overcome to be of any assistance even in these limited preparations, sobbed unrestrainedly. In the midst of her grief Esmeralda remembered that Lord Norman had not been amongst the protesting crowd. She wondered why he had been absent.
As the sun was setting behind the hills the horses were brought round. Esmeralda and Mother Melinda mingled their tears as they clung to each other; and, after many false starts, the three set off. As they went down the trail to the camp, Esmeralda riding between Varley and Mr. Pinchook, a crowd collected in their way. Every man had left his work to assist in the send-off. Some were mounted, but the majority were on foot. Taffy, on a great black horse, was at their head. By his side was a man with a concertina—the only musical instrument in the camp excepting the piano in the Eldorado.
As Esmeralda rode down, the mob sent up a ringing cheer, and parted to let the three ride through, then it closed up behind them and followed in marching order, the concertina wailing out “Auld Lang Syne.”
The procession wound its way through the valley, up over the hill, and on to the main road. Every now and then the crowd sent up a cheer into the clear air. The concertina wailed on as if the man who played it were possessed of arms of steel. Sometimes the men sung, at others they talked together of how Esmeralda had been brought to the camp, of her childish sayings, of how she rode and shot; and strong men tried to conceal their emotion under hysterical laughter and blood-curdling oaths.
When they came to the cross-roads they halted; the concertina moaned out jerkily, “God Save the Queen”—it meant Esmeralda.