“Thank you, my lad,” he said, in a low deep whisper. “I half expected to hear you say this, but my conscience is hard at work with me as to whether I am justified in tying your fate up with that of such an unlucky adventurer as I am.”
“I am only an adventurer too,” I said; “and it is not such very bad luck to have found all this gold.”
He was silent for a few minutes, as if he were thinking deeply, but at last he spoke.
“I’ve been weighing it all in the balance, Mayne,” he said, “and God forgive me if I am going wrong, for I cannot help myself. The gold is very heavy in the scale, and bears down the beam. I cannot, gambler though I may be, give up now. Look here, Mayne, my lad, here is my decision. I am going to try and get a couple of good fellows from down below to come in as partners. So as soon as it is light you had better get back to the Fort, explain your position, and I know Mr Raydon to be so straightforward and just a man, that he will forgive you.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” I said, firmly; “and I’d sooner die than go back now.”
“Nonsense! heroics, boy.”
“It is not,” I said. “Mr Gunson, would two strange men, about whom you know nothing, be more true to you than Esau Dean and I would?”
“No; I am sure they would not,” he cried eagerly. “Then I shall stay with you, and whatever I do Esau will do. He will never leave me. Besides, he is mad to get gold too. We are only boys, but those men are afraid of the rifles, and even if they mastered us, they would not dare to kill us.”
“No, my lad, they would not,” cried Mr Gunson. “Then you shall stay.”
He turned toward me, and grasped my hand. “And look here, Mayne, I have for years now been the rough-looking fellow you met in the steerage of the ship; but I thank heaven there is still a little of the gentleman left, and you shall not find me unworthy of the trust you place in—Ah!”