Mrs. Banneret was a woman of exceptional courage, and capacity in business matters—such as few men are privileged to win and wear in [14] ]the alliance matrimonial. Without binding himself to be guided by her advice in the battles of life, her husband made a point of hearing her views—if time permitted—before engaging in action. Cool, sensible, and, withal, courageous to dare, as well as to suffer, his plans were often modified, if not changed, after hearing her opinion.
In this particular skirmish with fortune, he had, however, been compelled to act promptly on his own responsibility. He knew mines and miners,—that strange earth table, where lay such wondrous prizes; the game on which the cards meant want or wealth, and of which the counters were men’s lives. The opportunity—one of those which come rarely, if more than once in life—was too precious to let slip. Weak and low, after his hardships—if he had refused to accede to the old man’s proposals—he might, in despair, have adopted the fatal remedy, lost his gold, or transferred the greater part of his interest to one of the astute speculators always so numerous upon goldfields.
He had made the plunge. He had put fame and fortune on the cards—more or less—and must stand the hazard of the dip. Not, of course, that an officer of his character and experience would have lost his position by being sold up, and rendered temporarily homeless, as long as nothing worse could be laid to his charge than imprudence in speculation.
There were very few residents in any class, caste, or occupation in Barrawong who had not [15] ]had a throw for a prize in the game of ‘golden hazard.’ But none the less, if it came out a blank, it would involve serious loss, bitter mortification, and more or less privation to be shared by every member of the household.
Mrs. Banneret listened gravely to the narrative, after the first few sentences, which contained the key to the situation. She said nothing until the story was ended, and then proceeded to a cross-examination very much to the point, as her husband had had previous occasion to note. She commenced cheerfully. So does the rusé barrister, affecting an air of light raillery, as he reassures the witness, out of whose heart he resolves to tear the truth before he has done—regardless of laceration, how cruel soever, to that organ, in the process.
But this advocate had no such feeling. She was not an advanced woman. Gifted with intelligence sufficiently clear to perceive the differing treatment of the sexes at the hands of society, she was yet fixed in the opinion that, by marriage and motherhood, a woman’s individuality has deeply, irrevocably merged in the welfare of the household. Thenceforth, her sphere was circumscribed. It was her duty, her privilege, to administer the limited monarchy of that small but vitally important kingdom. If for insufficient cause she wandered from it—if for vain pleasures, or intellectual pride, she neglected her realm—she deserved reprobation as an enemy of the State—deserved to forfeit the crown of her womanhood. So it was with a heart touched [16] ]with wifely sympathy, as well as anxiety for the safety of the family ark, that she began her inquiry.
‘Well, my dear, you seem to have “put on the pot,” as your friend Captain Maurice says—I daresay you have good reason—but we must look out to have something left pour tout potage besides. You put full faith in old Jack Waters; I have heard you speak of him.’
‘With hardly an exception—gentle or simple—I do not know a man whose word I would more absolutely trust, and I have known him for ten years or more.’
‘You think the specimens beyond all doubt the richest you have ever seen? Remember those in the “Coming Event.”’
‘Yes, they were good—though nothing to these. I’m almost sorry I didn’t bring them home with me. I left them in the office safe, to be quite sure.’