‘How did you come to know of it?’
[22]
]‘Well, it was this way. You know, ma’am, us diggers often write and lay one another on to good things. An old mate of mine had been campin’ out and prospectin’ round there, for more’n a year, livin’ hard, eatin’ lizards, pigface, what not—nigh perished for want of water, until he come across this here reef. Well, he goes back to Southern Cross, where he gets laid up with rheumatic fever, and close up dies—ain’t right yet. Well, he wires and lays me on, and I’m to give him an eighth share, when it’s floated—as floated it will be—and for a price that’ll astonish some people. I can’t say more, ma’am, now, and every word of it’s God’s truth.’
‘I think you’ve said enough,’ said the lady, bending her gaze upon him with a searching glance, which he returned steadfastly and half wistfully. ‘Whatever Mr. Banneret has promised, of course he will perform. You may trust my husband to carry it out, and I feel more satisfied now I have heard you explain matters.’
‘If we can’t trust the Commissioner, ma’am, we can’t trust nobody—that’s what all of us miners says; there’s not a man on the field that don’t say the same. So I’ll wish you good-bye, ma’am, and my sarvice to you.’
‘Good-bye, and I hope it will bring good fortune to all of us.’
That afternoon, about half-past four o’clock, the Commissioner closed his office earlier than usual. As they were speeding along the homeward road, winding between yawning shafts and over the insecure bridges spanning the water-races, which [23] ]gurgled and bubbled beneath the horses’ feet, Mrs. Banneret thus addressed her husband:
‘Had a good day, my dear?’
‘Very fair, all things considered. Long Small Debts Court. Big police case. Inquest on poor fellow killed in Happy Valley. Deputation from the “Great Intended”—want the base line swung. Report urgently required in the last jumping case. Got through them all except the last—they can wait a week. I must go on the ground.’
‘Not a bad day’s work either, for an overpaid, under-worked Civil servant, as the Radical papers call you; and now I’ll bring in my report, which is urgent—immediate, and can’t “wait a week,” whatever else can.’
‘Go ahead, my dear!’ said her husband, lighting his pipe, and steadying the impatient horses to a ten-mile trot. ‘I’m all attention.’