“Yes,” I said; “I shall be glad to go.”
“You mean it, boy?” he said, smiling.
“Yes; there is nothing I am wanted for, and I feel as if I were an intruder. It was an unlucky day when we found that gold.”
“No,” cried Mr Gunson, with fierce energy; “a most fortunate day. You forget what it is going to do for me and mine.”
“Yes; I spoke selfishly,” I said, bitterly.
“Bah! don’t look back, boy; look forward,” he cried; and he suddenly became silent, and leaned back in his chair, gazing out through the open window at the wide prospect of hill, mountain, and dark green forest. “I am looking forward to being out again in those glorious pine-woods, breathing the sweet mountain air. I shall soon be quite strong again then.”
I thought of my own wound, and how I had seemed to drink in health and strength as soon as I got out.
“It would not be a bad life to settle down here,” continued Mr Gunson; “I should enjoy it. A beautiful life, far better than hunting for gold. But what about those scoundrels who made me like this? Is there any fresh news of them?”
“None,” I said.
“That’s bad. They may be in mischief. Awkward if they come and attack us again when we get back to the claim. Raydon must lend us some of his men, or else I must join forces with that Barker, though I would far rather keep the place to myself. But we cannot risk another such attack. You see what a coward weakness has made me.”