Story 1—Chapter XXIV.
Sailor Bill’s Story.
After the sad ceremony which he had just performed, Mr Rawlings did not feel much inclined for gold-seeking or any worldly affairs, although he went towards the mine as a matter of duty; and when he reached the stamps he found Ernest Wilton already standing there, but looking pale and perturbed, as if anxious about something.
“What is the matter?” said Mr Rawlings. “You seem out of sorts, beyond what the loss of these poor fellows would have affected you?”
“Yes, I am,” replied the other. “I can’t help thinking of that cousin of mine, and why I did not recognise him when I first saw him; but then he was quite a little boy at school, and who would have dreamt of your picking him up at sea?”
“Strange things do happen sometimes,” said Mr Rawlings. “When was it that you last saw him in England?”
“Four years ago last Christmas, if I recollect aright. He was then a little schoolboy not half his present size. How on earth did he manage to get to sea? my aunt had a perfect horror of a sailor’s life, and would never have let him go willingly. But, there, it only serves me right for my selfish neglect! As you told me before, I ought to have kept up my communication with my family, and then I should have known all about it. I can’t help now fancying all sorts of queer things that may have occurred. My poor aunt, who used to be so fond of me, may be dead; and my uncle, who was of a roving nature kindred to mine, may—”
“Nonsense!” said Mr Rawlings, good-naturedly, interrupting him. “If you go on like that, you’ll imagine you’re the man in the moon, or something else! Sailor Bill, or rather your cousin Frank, as we must now call him, will wake up presently and enlighten us as to how he came to be in his present position—or rather in the Bay of Biscay, where we picked him up; for we all know his subsequent history; and then you’ll learn what you are now puzzling your brains about, without any bother. I confess I am curious in the matter too, for I wish to know the secret of that mysterious packet round his neck; but we must both wait with patience, and dismiss the subject for the present from our minds. Come along with me now, my boy,” he added, as the body of the miners hastened up after paying their last tribute of respect at their comrades’ graves. “I’m just going to have a look at your sluices, and see whether the stuff is coming out as rich as before.”
This invitation at once caused the young engineer to brighten up, as the idea of action had aroused the miners from dwelling on what had happened.
The yield upon being examined proved fully as rich as before the first experiment.