ON THE BLACKMAN'S LEAD.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1806, 2 February 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

ON THE BLACKMANS LEAD.

By Hkmjy Wixstanly,

Almost everyone who happened to bo on Maryborough at the time of the great rush, will remember the junction, or where the Blackmans Lead joined what was at that time called the main gulley. Well, it so happened that a party of diggers had bottomed an outsider jnst above the junction, and, as the reef dipped almost perpendicularly, they determined to drive in hopes that the gutter •had turned, or that they might strike a tributary, or branch lead making into the larger runs of gold. The party abovementioned consisted of three men, two of whom were middle-aged, or of uncertain age, while the third was a young fellow of three or four and twenty years. One of the former, or middle-agod men, and he who is to figure in this story, was called Itufus Seir, which the younger man of the party interpreted into red head, or hairy, and which seemed a very appropriate name, as the only parts of Seir visible, which were not covered with coarse red hair, were the palms of his hands, and his linger nails. Rufua Seir was without doubt an Englishman, although recently from the other side, or (to use a bet;er understood term) a Vandimonian, and although the early part of his life was unknown to his mates, it was generally understood by all who know Seir that he had been a convict. But as the old fellow was particularly reticient as to any part of his life anterior to that on which he made hih first appearance on the goldfields, of course, everything concerning him was purely conjecture. The youngest -man of the party, Basil Gordon, was a native of New South Wales, a fine, tall, handsome young man, standing fully six feet high, with long black curly hair, and dark eyes. An hone3t, straightforward fellow, with a countenance wheiein one might almost read the character of the man. Gordon had been a clerk in a Sydney office, but, lured by the hope of speedy wealth, he had left his situation, and come to Victoria. Poor fellow 1 he had worked on the mines ever since the big rush to Forrest Creek, but had never been able to save more than two or three ounces of gold in all that time. In fact, Basil Gordon was thoroughly di&gusced with the diggings, and, like many more he knew, would gladly have returned to Sydney, if he could only raise sufficient to pay hid passage, and make a respectable appearance when he reached there. To all appearance, their claim, was what, in digger's parlance, was termed a " stringer," that is, it would not pay wages, nor 'even keep the party in food, yet there was sufficient gold in their "prospects" to induce the party to drive to their boundaries. -AH the inside claims, both up and down the Blackmans Lead, were in f fill work. But none of the miner's seemed to care about breaking into Gordon's workings, for the simple reason that the gold did not hang to the high reef, and was only found in the deep ground. This hindered Gordon's paity very much, for, by having no draft, or current o£ air, the drives became choked up with foul vapour, and it was found next to impossible to work below during the day, as the weather was intensely hot. There was another outside claim adjoining Gordon's, and worked by an old man named Varne, as he was of tener called Captain Varne. This old mariner had been the skipper of a colonial whaler, and hailed from Sydney, but — ~ somehow or other he had not been a successful commander, and so, when the news of the rich finds of gold in Victoria reached him, the old skipper gave up the command of his ship and came right off to the diggings, hoping to be more fortunate in finding gold than he had been in capturing the leviathans of the deep. It was wondered at by all the miners who worked near the junction how the old whaler had managed, single-handed, to sink the shaft he was working. Certainly Varne had a daughter who used to call him at mid-day, and at knock-off time in the afternoon, but this young, slight, and delicate looking creature, could have had no hand in such rough work as sinking a shaft, or winding up mullock from a depth of forty or fifty feet. In fact, if the captain had been allowed to ' have his own way in the matter, his daughter, Stella, would have been left with her friends in Sydney. But the young girl would not listen to any such arrangement, as she declared that she had hitherto, by his long absence on his whaling voyages, seen too little of her father's company. " Besides, on the diggings, exposed to every hardship, he will require some one to wait on and comfort him. Who's duty is it to do this ? " she would ask of those who tried to induce her to remain in town. " Why mine, o£ course. My papa has no wife, no son to accompany him to the gold-fields, so, even if I had the inclination to stay behind, my duty tells me that my place is by my dear old father's side." Stella Varne was a moat lovely girl, and the fame of her beauty was the theme of conversation at many of the camp fires on Maryborough. Yet, strange to tell, although all the young fellows were loud in their praise, not one seemed to have enough courage to address the maiden in words of love. Captain Varne had taken a groat liking to the young man Basil Gordon, not only because he waa a fine looking, da3hing fellow, but for another reason. Basil had been very obliging to the old whaler, for, when the young man had finished his day's work, he would generally stroll over to the skipper's claim and help ' the old fellow for an hour or so. Gordon had done this for no other motive than that he waa prompted to do so by his good nature, and that his neighbor waa a « hatter,' and an old man. True, the young man had seen Stella from a distance, but any idea of love in connection with the young girl had, as yet, never crossed his mind. But Basil Gordon was not a great while bofore he had a very different tale to tell, for, " one night as Varne left work, he invited the young man to his tent. Of course the invitation was accepted, and Basil was introduced to the captain's daughter. Gordon was young, handsome, and impstuons. Was it anything to wonder at, then, that from the moment that he cast his eyes upon the lovely maiden his heart was gone for ever ? ' Never had the young man seen anything to compare with the beautiful creature who now stood before him. Never in Mb wildest flights of f »ncy could his mind conjure up, or hold be fore his mental vision, a being of such radiant ftnd surpassing loveliness.

Aftei loa\ing the u usnf lmnehhWir, E-.m 1 [ could think of nothing but the charming girl ' whom he had seen. That night he tossed restlessly in his bed till after midnight, ere tlie much coveied repose visited his weary eyelids. And even when the balmy soother Citne, 'twas but to waft his imagination to the happy dream land. Yes, for in this iustance his sleeping visions were a reflex of his waking thoughts, and once more he beheld, and stood beside the lovely Stella. Again he spoke to her, this time in tones of love ; he held her hand in his, and was about to clasp her to his heart, when the seeming j fclysium was dispelled, the vision faded, and iv its place there stood the burly form of his fiery-headed mate, Eufus Sier. " Now then, young fellow, are yer goin' ter lay a bed all day ? " were the iirst words which greeted the ear of Basil Gordon, as he awoke soon after daylight, the morning succeeding the incidents above related, still sleepy and unrefreshed. One of his mates was standing at the fire busy preparing breakfast, as the young man arose from his bed drowsily saying, " I don't feel at all right this morning." " No wonder yer don't," said he, who stood by the fire. " I don't know what time yer turned in last night, as I waa in the harms o' muffy when yer come 'ome. But yer bin twistin' and tumblin' about in yer bunk; as if yer was tied onter a harn't bed. Yer wasn't booaed, was yer ? " " I never take intoxicating drinks," answered Gordon. " Same here, worse luck, and a good reason i why— can't get it. Come, mate, sit up an' ! have yer breakfast, fer the ' red'un ' will be here dreckly in a great hurry fer work," said the old fellow, filling a basin of tea, and 1 placing a plate for his mate. 1 " Where is Seir ? " a3ked Gordon, seating himself at the table. " He's gone down to the shanty fer a hinvigprater. He's a close-fisted feller, that ; ho t;ets any amount o' boose hisself, although he never asks a feller if he's got a mouth on 'im. I dubs him mean, hextraornary mean, fer he's got piles o' ' sugar.' " " Why in the name of goodness, Scarroll, don't you express yourself properly? I do hate to listen to your slangy styles of speaking," said Basil, pettishly. " Can't help it, mate. They must be hewers of wood, and drawers of water. They must be men — I mean good men, and they must be loafers and ruffins. Now, it ain't partickerly clear ter me which o' these 'ere I belong ter. Certinly I ain't a loafer, nor a ruffin " " Nor a gent/ interrupted Basil. * No, nor a gent,' admitted Scarroll. " Besides, I'm too old fer book-laming now, and laming don't allers bring wealth." " Not always," sighed Gordon. " No, fer look at yerself, yer as poor as a plucked crow ; then look at our mate, the ' red'un,' he's as rich as Farrer," said Scarroll. " Was Pharoah rich ? " asked the young man, listlessly. " I've heerd so. Let me tell yer, I've heard as his cartwheels was made outer pure gold. [ only wish I could come across one on 'em, I'd " and the old man finished the sentence by taking a long draught of his tea — an action very suggestive, at least, so thought the young man, who knew too well his mate's weakness). " What makes you think Seir ia rich ? " asked Gordon. "Ain't I seen? Why, man, he's got more ijold in the Melbourne Treasury than any dozen diggers in Victory, although he never lets on as he's worth a sprat. Oh, he's a close feller, is the ' red'nn.' Talk of Old Nick and here he is," said Scarroll, a3 footsteps were heard advancing towards the tent. Gordon and his party worked on at their claim with slightly improved prospects, and, according to the formation of the ground below, and the heavy wash which they bad struck, the party were inclined to think that they were not far from an outside run of gold, making into the deop ground of Blackmans Lead. Captain Varne had also touched upon the same streak of wash, and was following it towards Gordon's claim, in hopes to break through into the latter's workings, _ thereby causing the much-needed current of air, which they knew would facilitate the workings of both claims. Gordon's party erected a fan upon the surface of their claim, and, by its aid, were enabled to work comfortably a certain distance from the shaft, that is, as far as the pipe of the fan reached along the drive ; but beyond that the foul vapor hung white and misty, like a deathladen cloud, barring their further progress. Both Varne and Gordon's party had now been some time trying to effect a mode of communication between the two claims. Each had driven up to their boundary line, and knew that only a thin wall divided them. But, after opening out at the end of the drive a considerable space, Basil found that the air had become so bad, that, for the present, at least, further operations were impossible. That same afternoon Bufus Sier went down the shaft worked by Captain Varne, with the intention of taking the bearings of the old seaman's drive, and noticing the lay of the ground. Sier found that the old whaler's shaft and his own were exactly the same depth, but in the former the drive ran on a level, whereas in Gordon's claim the ground dipped gradually right from the shaft to the boundary line. And, as both parties had driven beyond their alloted distance, it proved [ to Seir that his own mates were driving under the workings of the old sea captain. Both Seir and Varne were satisfied ! ayond doubt that such was the case, and that there would now be no difficulty in pushing the work on, and, bidding the captain " good day," Eufua went to the shaft and commenced to climb up towards the surface. He had completed only about half the distance, when a voice from above him called : " Come father, it is time that you left off work." Now Seir had often heard of and seen the skipper's daughter, but had nover been near enongh to make out the features of the lovely maiden, whose voice now fell with musical sweetness on his ear; and, as he paused in his ascent, he felt half inclined to warn the young girl of her mistake, and his presence. But, hearing the girl's voice a second time, the miner determined to be mute till he reached the surface, and see for him3el£ the maiden of whose charms he had heard so much. But when the rough miner reached the top of the shaft, and hi 3 eyes rested on the young girl, he seemed for a few moments to have entirely lost his identity, and stood speechless and-confounded, gazing with almost reverential awe at the angelic being who stood before him. Evidently very much' perplexed and confused at the mistake she had made, the young girl hastened to say : "I beg pardon sir ; but I expected to see my father." Seir muttered something in reply, but his erabarasament was so great as to render his words inaudible. At that moment, and greatly to the relief of Bufus, Stella's father stepped from the shaft, and as the latter busied himself in getting his tools together previous to accompanying his daughter home, Seir seized thtJ opportunity of slipping away unobserved. Rufus Seir walked slowly on towards his tent, his mind wholly absorbed in thinking over the events juat narrated, and it must be confessed that a strange and wonderful change had taken place in the rough man's nature,

eve.i in tho short tune which had elapsed since he had seen the captain's daughter. Seir had been a hard man, and had led a, i hard life, having no sympathies with bi^ own, or the opposite sex. A woman-hater, one who had shut his heart against every tender feeling until his very nature seemed changed into adamant. And yet those seemingly impiegnable wall 3 in which he had enclosed his cold apathetic heart, proved only as barriers of snow which qnickly melted in the sunbeam beauty of the lovely Stella. Eufus entered his tent and threw himself upon his bed, and endeavored to divert his thoughts into other channels ; but, try as he would, the attempt was futile, for his mind would obstinately revert to the being who seemed now to hold absolute sway even over his power of thinking. By and bye Seir arose from his couch, and walked out into the open air. Night had set in, bright, and starlight, the lights in the main street shone out conspicuously in two long, irregular lines, while the numerous camp-fires of the diggers appeared, from where fche miner stood, like a mimic reflexion o£ the star-studded heavens above. And now, upon the scarcely perceptible breeze the strains of sweet music were borne past him. And then Seir pictured to himself the gaily lighted dancing saloons, and the uncouth and motley group of revellers, and more delightful still to him, the clink of golden coins, the rattle of the dice-box, and the sparkling wine cup. For, be it understood, that although Rufus Seir followed the praceful occupation of a digger, he was in heart and soul, a professional — a confirmed gambler and a black-leg. " Yes," he muttered, as if in answer to his thoughts." I'll just take a run over to the street, and try to shake off this uncomfortable feeling. Bother that girl, its strange that the sight of her should so affect me, for she seems to haunt me like my shadow?" Seir now buttoned up his monkey jacket, and but a short time elapsed before he had crossed the lead, and was making his way through the crowd of diggers that thronged the main street. Presently he reached a large canvas building, the front of which was fitted up for a refreshment bar, but which was in reality one of those gambling dens, which were in those days so numerous on the big rushes. Eufus seemed to be no stranger to this place, for he passed the counter, and drawing aside a heavy curtain, he immediately found himself in a spacious apartment. Bound a large green covered table in the centre of this room, sat some dozen men, hut it would be rather a difficult task to describe them, as the two oil lamps which hung suspended from the roof, were shaded, and cast their strong light directly, and only beneath them, leaving the remainder of the apartment in deep, dark shadow. Seir drew a chair towards him and seated himself, then resting his elbows upon the table, for some time he watched the players. After a time he also played— and lost, played again, and again he lost ; then he found that he could not enter into the spirit of the game as he had hitherto done. The rattle of the dice held lost ita charm on Buf us Seir, and the sight of the little ivory squares, as they rolled silently along the soft cloth, failed to attract his attention, or interest him now. Ho had helped himself several timed since he entered the room, from a decanter of spirits which stood upon a little side table, but even the liquor failed to do its accustomed task, and at last Seir arose from his seat and left the saloon, lighter in pocket, and lower spirited than when he entered it. When Seir again reached the street, he stood for some moments seemingly in doubt which way to turn his steps, then, as if a sudden thought had crossed his mind, he set off at aquickpaceup the street, in the direction of the Avoca road. And, as the rough fellow was perfectly well able to take care of himself, we shall leave him for the present, for the more agreeable society of the oaptain's pretty dau ,'hter. Basil Gordon often saw the lovely Stella after his first introduction to her, in facthe became a constant visitor to the Captain's tent. At first Stella was very shy and reserved in the young man's presence, but the feeling gradually wore off, and the young people became very intimate, indeed, so much so, that the old whaler began to think seriously that his pet was in a fair way of losing her heart, if that event had not already taken place. And now, when too late, Gordon suddenly became aware of his position, he had followed up an acquaintance with the young girl, till, on his side, it had developed into strong affection. He was an honourable man, and it must be admitted that he now felt some degree of conpunction for the part he had played, for he was well aware that he had already gone too far in thus trifling with the maiden's feelings ; and although against his inclination, his love urged him on, he determined that he would prosecute his suit no further. Gordon was poor, very poor, and almost friendless. He had no suitable home to offer to the object of his love, and his manly heart rebelled at the bare idea of asking Stella to share the precarious fortunes of a gold digger, and, dragging the being he so idolized down to what he called his degrading poverty. So the young man determined, cost what it might to himself, he would act as he thought, with honour, and at once tear himself away from the young girl's fascinating presence. Yes, if possible, he would acquaint her with his determination that very night, and bid her farewell forever. The foul air still choked up the drives in Gordon's claim, and completely put a stop to their mining operations, so Basil and his mate, Scarroll, were busily employed all day in some necessary work up on the surface. Seir had not put in an appearance since he ; measured the old captain's workings, and neither of his mates knew what had become of him. However, it was nothing unusual for the ' red un,' as Scarroll always called him, to absent himself at any time, and more especially now when no one was able to descend the shaft his absence was scarcely noticed. After the day's work was over, Gordon, according to his usual custom, repaired to the dwelling of his charmer. His mind was troubled, and his heart was sad, as he walked slowly along, for he was now about to snap the only link which, seemed to bind him to this world, for life without Stella appeared nought but a dark, purposeless blank. Oh how often in his young, ardent imagination, had Basil pictured in the most vivid colors a bright and happy future, one, wherein he should walk hand in hand with her who had by her presence made this world appear to him an earthly paradise. Arrived at the captain's teat, Basil entered and found the old skipper reading aloud to Stella, who was busy attending to her household duties. However, upon the appearance of the visitor, the 4>ook was at once put aside, and the young girl quickly finished her task and sat down for the evening. But upon this occasion, both the captain and his daughter found Basil Gordon bat a sorry companion, and it seemed strange to them that he, who appeared never before at a loss for a theme to talk of, and was fluent upon almost any subject, and altogether a most conversable companion, should now be so dull and uncommunicative. Long before the usual hour of parting from his neighbors Basil aroae to go, a signal now pretty well understood by Stella, who lately had accustomed herself to accompany the young man to the front of the dwelling to enjoy their tete a tlte before the final "goodnight " was said.

[ W!ua tho two young people reached the \ door they stood for some few minutes conversing, ere Bssil summoned sufficient courage to speak to the young girl upon the subject which was uppermost in his mind. At length he ventured in the following words : " Stella, dear, I have something to Say to you to-night. Something that I had rather wish unsaid." " Indeed ! Basil, what is it ? " asked the maiden in a somewhat tremulous tone, as she noticed her lover's earnest manner. " It seems to me but a short time since I first met you, love," the young fellow went on to say, seemingly not noticing his companion's interruption. " And I have Bpent the happiest hours of my life in your society, and I feel it hard, very, very hard now to shut out from my poor sad heart the only gleam of sunshine it has ever known." "For heaven's Bake, Gordon, speak out. Tell me what dreadful import do your words convey ? What dread calamity is about to overtake us— you ? lam no coward, then speak, dear, and let me know the worst," implored Stella. Basil hesitated a moment ere he answered his companion, who, by her voice and passionate appeal, he knew to be considerably excited, although her hand which was held in his own betrayed no sign of tremor. Presently, with an effort, he said, " I am about to leave Maryborough." " Indeed 1 For whence ? How long will you be absent ? , When will you return ? " asked the young girl, quickly. "Heaven only knows, Stella, whither I shall turn my footsteps, but my future home lisa far from this spot," said Basil, sadly. " Whatever has brought this sudden change about ? What has happened to induce you to form this hasty resolve ? Come, Gordon, you have often assured me of your love. You have told me that I am dearer to you than life itself, and I believed you, dear," said tho maiden, as she drew closer to her lover, and continued, "tell me, then, whence this rash determination to leave my presence, after your oft repeated vows of love and constancy ? " Basil scarcely knew how to answer his fair questioner, for her concluding words seemed to reproach him with inconstancy, or worse still, with actual deceit. " Oh, darling 1 " cried Gordon, his deep anguish manifest in the husky tones of his voice. " You do not know the sacrifice lam about to make. You know not the heartrending task it will be to me to say the last good bye. To leave you, all that I hold dear on earth, and go forth into the wide world sad, sorrowful, and alone." " Alone ? " echoed the young girl. " Yes, Stella, it must be alone, for I can no longer stay here ; nor will I take you from your father's house to share the chances of my bad fortune. Oh, it would be dreadful for you my heart's darling, to be brought by me to be the occupant of a wretched tent, and perhaps, upon the barest fare, leading a life of drudgery and privation ; full of regret when you think of the past, and picture to yourself what you might have been, but for my selfishness in bringing you to such a pass. Think not unkindly of me, dearest, only remember that I make this sacrifice to save you from a greater wrong. Stella's head sank upon her companion's breast, her grief for a time obstructing her utterance. Poor, frail, creature, she had boasted of her courage, she had declared herself brave, and had nerved newelf to stifle every emotion and listen calmly to her lover. But, when that lover spoke of leaving her and making his home in some far distant spot, and the young girl heard the tones of his manly voice falter in his effort to appear calm, and suppress the deep anguish of his soul, her reason well nigh forsook her, and had it not been that her grief found vent in tears, she would have fallen senseless at her companion's leet. It is no wonder then, that, in this emergency, Basil Gordon scarcely knew how to act, and felt more than' half inclined to retract what he had said. " Speak no more upon the subject of leaving Stella — and let things take their course, trusting to a brighter day in the future." For now, as he held her in his arms, and witnessed the itensity of her affliction, he felt that it would be unmanly, cruel, for him to add an additional pangj when her great sorrow seemed already far more than she^could bear. But the daughter of Captain 7arne was a very different person from what Basil Gordon supposed her. She was high-spirited and impulsive ; one who was particularly susceptible, and upon this occasion she fancied that Gordon had never truly loved her, even though he represented his attachment in such affectionate terms, that he had cruelly trifled with her affections, and now her love, and was now trying to hide his perfidy and the shame he felt behind a cunning, artful subterfuge. Poor Stella knew that her feelings had betrayed the intensity of her affection for Basil Gordon. But now, as these thoughts ran through her mind, and she imagined that she had been made the dupe of a heartless, designing man, all her grief, all her love, seemed, for a moment, turned to anger ; and freeing herself from her lover's embrace, she moved a step or two towards the tent, then, drawing herself up proudly, with emphasis said: " Gordon, I did not think that you could be so unkind, and untruthful. I am ashamed also of the part I have taken in this affair. You professed to love me and brought forward your poverty as the one great obstacle to our union. We are poor also, but I want no grander home than the home I now occupy, ! an.d I will depart so far from my maidenly sphere, as to tell you, that, had you been sincere, I would have been willing, nay, glad to have shared such a* one with you, had you asked me. But now I think it far better that it should be as you wish and we part. I will release you from your vows, return to you your i broken, worthless pledges, and though my j heart should break in the effort, I will try, try hard to forget that we had ever met. Farewell." " Stay, Stella, stay and hear me 1 " cried Gordon ; but he was too late, for the young girl had already passed into the dwelling. Basil stood for a few moments utterly confounded at the strange and abrupt termination of their interview, and felt maddened to think that Stella herself had severed the tie which had existed between them. She had called him unkind, unfaithful, for Bhe knew not that his love was as pure as the virgin gold he daily sought for; neither did she know that her love was dearer to him than all the wealth of this bright, golden land. "And yet," he exclaimed bitterly, " she has cast me off with as little feeling as she would throw away an old, worn-out glove." And now Gordon set his teeth hard together and strode off — he knew not, he cared not, whither ; and.the night waa dark enough for anyone to miss the track across the holes, and walk into one of the abandoned shafts which were numerous thereabout. But Basil thought not now of deserted holes, nor gold — no, nor life itself; in fact, death at that moment, come in what shape it might, would have been to him most gladly welcome. " Now, then, where are you going?" aßked the voice of a man who was crossing the Lead, and who waa violently ran against by Gordon. " Is that you, Sier ? " asked the young fellow, suddenly brought to himself, and recognizing the tones of him who spoke. > "No," answered the man, as he quickly passed on. Gordon stood for a moment and looked in the direction the stranger had taken, certain

within himself that if; was his mate, Sier, and no other, whom he had just spoken to. The late collision with the unknown seemed to have brought Basil a little to himaelf, as^ he now moved on more cautiously in the i direction of his own dwelling. When Stella parted bo abruptly from her I?ver and entered her father's house, she lighted a, candle and retired at once to her own room, for, the tent being large and commodious, the back part had been partiIroned off into two comfortable sleeping apartments. Captain Varne did not notice his daughter's agitation when she entered the dwelling after parting with Basil Gordon; in fact, the old skipper, who was busily engaged in the columns of a Melbourne weekly paper, scarcely heard Stella's faiut "Good-night, father," as she passed him. Presently the old Beainan folded up the newspaper which he had been reading, and laid it aside, and as he did so he distinctly heard footsteps approaching the front of the tent, and immediately aiter someone tapped at the wooden frame of the door. The old mariner had few visitors, and ifc rather perplexed him tb think who had favored him with a visit at this rather unusual hour. However, Varne did not wait for a second summons, but walked quickly to the front of the dwelling, and opening the door, said, " Come in." The visitor Btepped inside, and when the old seaman had fastened the door he turned an enquiring glance at the new-comer. The stranger was a man about five feet seven, or eight inohes high, broad shouldered, and seemingly of great muscular strength. Of dress, he wor« u monkey jacket, dark trousers, Calif ornian| hat, and long pegged boots, and seemed to have only just emerged from one of the draper's shops in the main street, in fact, his complete outfit boro testimony that such was the case, by the many creases, and the shiny appearance of everything he wore. Upon entering the dwelling the visitor had removed his hat, and disclosed features of a very remarkable type. He was by no means good looking, and could scarcely be called passable, for his forehead was low, his brows red, thick, and heavy, shading small blue eyes, his nose was large and almost flat, and below, the mouth and chin were hid by his moustache and coarse rough beard. After viewing the stranger for a few seconds, and being by no means impressed in his favor, the captain asked. " What is your business, mate ?" 41 Well, Captain Varne, I have no particular business, I merely called on you in a friendly way, and to talk to you about our claims," answered the visitor. "Oh, yes! I remember now, you are one of the party who work the next shaft to mine, and you were the person also who measured my drives," said Varne, who recognised the man's voice, though he was at a loss how to account for the great change in the fellow's appearance. " Exactly," answered he, who no doubt the reader has already indentifled as Gordon's mate, Rufus Seir. Captain Varse and his visitor then entered into conversation, first concerning their own claims, then upon mining matters generally, and the old skipper found that his guest was not only a highly intelligent man, but one who had travelled, and was also a well educated person. For Seir seemed to be just as well acquainted with the crowded streets of London as he was with the dust laden thoroughfares of Sydney ; he could speak of when he had been in the frozen North sea, and he knew every island, shoal or inlet upon the Australian coast, for he had been whaling too, and chatmed the old mariner by the recital of some of his hairbreadth escapes, when chasing the monarch of the deep. In fact Varne was so interested in the conversation of his visitor that the small hours of the morning crept in before they were aware of the lateness of the hour. And even then, when Seir arose to go, the old captain grasped his hand warmly, and pressed his guest to repeat his visit upon the first opportunity. " So far, very good indeed," mused Seir, after he had left the captain, and was proceeding in the direction of his own dwelling. " I have made excellent progress with the old fellow to-night, and if I can only continue and still further ingratiate myself into the old captain's good graces, I entertain no doubt abtut being successful with the girl. Strange," he continued, after musing awhile, " that I should be so taken up with the lass, for of all, matrimony was about the last thing I should ever have given, or, rather, wasted a thought on. However, I have wealth enough to tempt a duchess, and likewise to pamper her most extravagant wishes, and if I only win this old man's daughter — ha"! ha 1 win her indeed; why, where's the obstacle? — every woman's got her price, and, the Lord knows, I can bid high enough for this beauty." Then, as if some sudden thought crossed his mind, he continued : " Wonder if she has any fellow after.her ? — no matter whether she has j or not. Gold, gold, all powerful, mighty gold, by thee, and thy agency alone, shall I woo ancTwin her." By this time Seir had crossed the Lead, and was following the narrow beaten track which led to the rise upon which his dwelling stood. After Basil Gordon had been left so uncerimoniously by Stella at the front of her father's tent, and the former had ran against someone, whom he suspected to be his mate, Seir, he walked leisurely home in no enviable mood, for his mind was a prey to bitter grief, and he experienced a feeling of loneliness whioh he had hitherto been a stranger to. Entering his dwelling, the young man sat down upon hia bed, and, placing his elbows on the table, he rested his head in the palms of his hands, and for a time indulged in his sad reflections. 14 Why, where have you been to ? And what's the matter with you ? " asked Soarroll, who was busy trying to sew a patch upon an old garment. " Why you're off your dot altogether to-night. You're net in love, are you ? No, that can't be, for there's no gals about here for a fellow to get spoony on, unless you're gone on the old German woman as helps her husband down the fiat. My eye, she's a raker, a regular snorer, that un is. 'Why man, you should see her as I've seen her, with her old man's sou wester, coat, and long boots on. Why you'd swear as she ain't a female woman at. all, but a reg'lar old hand." Then seeing that Gordon made no answer, he went on. "See, mate, I think you might answer a fellow. Have you ever cast your opticks on the three old gals as lives over near the street, and as takes in washin'. Them's three terrors, them is ; they mast be twins, as they're all as like as eggs in size and cemetary of form. You ain't in love with any of them ere, are you ? " " No, certainly not. Pray do not talk such nonsense, Soarroll," said Basil, pettishly. "Well, I must say something to you, or swear at this confounded job I've got here. My hands wasn't made for sewing with anything smaller nor a sail needle, though I don't know whether the needle is too small or my hands is too big. But to return to our conversashun conserning the fair seeks, I think I've got you this time, lad. Praps your soft on the old cap'n daughter on the 'ill. My word, she's a topper, a regular 'iflier, and can play the pehnnner, so I've yeard. She's the tidiest bit of womankind as I've seen, since " then the old fellow sighed heavily, as if the recollection of some old flame bad suddenly flashed across his imagination—" Well, never mind who. But that 'ere old whaler's daughter's bin reared a lady. Poor thing, if she's so infortunftte as to' marry some pipeclay puncher, she'll be lucky if sho can allus sing to tte' 'companiment of the fry-panj

leave alone the pcl i annor. Don's you think bo?" questioned oha oM lellow. !' I know nothing about it. Why do you talk such nonsense ? Be quiet, do, like a good fellow," said Gordon, "Not in me, mate. Howsumever, we'll ohange the subjick. Have you seen the •red'un?'" Basil shook his head in reply. " Well, of all the transmogrificashuns as I ever was o1o 1 this 'ere side o' the terrostral, ' 'eraisferial globe, the change in our mate caps the lot. Why, he's got his cheeks scraped as 1 clean as a leg o' pork in a butcher's winder ; hi 3 'air's cut, and he's got a spankin' new set o' harness on. Sumthin' hextraornary. in the mind as 'as made our mate enter into such a 'stravagant speculashunJas investiri' in a new fit-out " " Perhaps he'a had money left to him," interrupted Gordon. " Praps he's had the devil I Why, man, haven't I told you afore Sier's got. any amount of sugar? Piles on it, boy *, a»d I heerd him say as how he'd got no friend in the world on'y a sister as he's lost the run on. No, its not that. But I know what it v, lad," Scarroll continued, lowering his voice, "he's gone on some of these old bartimys about here, and blow me if I don't find out which on 'em it is. Oh i wouldn't it be jolly if he got awisherl to one of them 'ere long, Hirish washerwomen. But never mine!, whoever it is to, or whenever it comes off, there'B one thing sartin, they'll be any amount of boose flying round." "Where has Seir gone?" asked Ba3il, thinking of the man whom he had met, and whose voice, he thought, resembled that oi his mate. " I don't know, as it was dark when he came home and when he left here ; but by the sound of the doga as allays barks at him, I think he went over the Blackmans Lead," answered the old man. Gordon made no answer, but he was certain from what Soarroll had said, that it was Seir whom he had met amongst the holes. And the young man could not help wondering what had led Bufus over the Lead at night, for, as a rule, his mate was to be found any time after nightfall in one or other of the well-lighted saloons in the main street. (To be continued.)