"This, at any rate, will be proof against bad luck," she said, as she undid the case, and drew out a prismatic compa.s.s. She adjusted the eye-piece, in which was a slit and a gla.s.s prism and lifted the sight-vane, down the centre of which a horsehair stretched perpendicularly to the card of the compa.s.s. Putting the instrument to her eye, Rose took the bearing of one of the twin forest-clad heights, and said, "Eighty degrees East--is that right?"

"You've got the magnetic bearing," said Scarlett, taking the instrument from the girl's hand. "To find the real bearing, you must allow for the variation between the magnetic and true North."

"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed; "that's too dreadfully technical. But take the compa.s.s: it should keep you from being lost in the bush, anyway."

"Thank you," said Jack. "It will be very useful. It's a proper mining-compa.s.s."

"I hope its needle will guide you to untold gold, and that the mine you are looking for will act on it like a loadstone."

"Practical and sentimental--that's Rosebud," said the Pilot, from the further end of the seat. "And you'll always notice, Scarlett, that it's the practical that comes first with her. Once upon a time she give me a cardigan jacket to wear under my coat. She'd knitted it herself. She said it would keep me warm on frosty nights, and prevent me gettin' cold and all that; and when I gets into the boat one night, and was feeling for a match, bless you if I didn't find a piece o' paper, folded up, in the pocket o' that there cardigan jacket. I took it out and read it by the lantern. It was from my own dar'ter, jest as if I'd ha' been her sweetheart, and in it was all manner o' lovey-dovey things just fit to turn her old dad's head. Practical first, sentimental afterwards--that's Rosebud. Very practical over the makin' of an apple-pie--very sentimental over the eatin' of it, ain't you, my gal?"

"I don't know about the sentiment," said Rose, "but I am sure about the pie. If that were missing at dinner-time I know who would grumble. So I'll go, and attend to my duties." She had risen, and was confronting Scarlett. "Good-bye," she said, "and good fortune."

Jack took her proffered hand. "Thank you," he said.

She had walked a few steps towards the house, when she looked over her shoulder. "Don't forget the nuggets," she said with a laugh.

"I sha'n't forget," he replied. "If I get them, you shall have them. I hope I may get them, for _your_ sake."

"Now, ain't that a wee bit mushy, for talk?" said the old Pilot, as his daughter disappeared. "You might give a gal a few pennyweights, or even an ounce, but when you say you hope you may find gold for her sake, ain't that just a trifle flabby? But don't think you can deceive my gal with talk such as that. She may be sentimental and stoopid with her old dad, but I never yet see the man she couldn't run rings round at a bargain. And as for gettin' soft on a chap, he ain't come along yet; and when he does, like as not I'll chuck him over this here bank, and break his impident neck. When my gal Rosebud takes a fancy, that's another matter. If she _should_ have a leanin' towards some partic'lar chap, why, then I'd open the door, and lug him in by the collar if he didn't come natural and responsive. I've got my own ideas about a girl marrying--I had my own experience, and I say, give a girl the choice, an' she'll make a good wife. That's my theory. So if my gal is set agin a man, I'm set agin him. If she likes a partic'lar man, I'll like him too. She won't cotton to any miserable, fish-backed beach-comber, I can promise you. So mushy, flabby talk don't count with Rose; you can make your mind clear on that point."

The young man burst into a laugh.

"Keep her tight, Pilot," he said, in a voice loud with merriment.

"When you know you've got a good daughter, stick to her. Chuck every interloper over the bank. I should do so myself. But don't treat _me_ so when I come with the nuggets."

"Now, look 'ee here," said the Pilot, as he rose c.u.mbersomely, and took Scarlett by the arm. "I've said you're in a bad streak o' luck, and I believe it. But, mark me here: nothing would please me better than for you to return with a hatful of gold. All I say is, if you're bent on going, be careful; and, being in a bad streak, don't expect great things."

"Good-bye," said Scarlett. "I'm in a bad streak? All right. When I work out of that you'll be the first man I'll come to see."

"An' no one'll be gladder to see you."

Captain Summerhayes took Scarlett's hand, and shook it warmly.

"Good-bye," he said. "Good luck, and d.a.m.n the bad streak."

Jack laughed, and walked down the winding path.

The Pilot stood on the bank, and looked after him.

"Hearten him up: that's the way," he said to himself, as he watched the retreating figure; "but, for all that, he's like a young 'more-pork' in the bush, with all his troubles to come."

CHAPTER X.

Hocussed.

In a small inner room in The Lucky Digger sat Benjamin Tresco and the Prospector.

The goldsmith was happy. His gla.s.s was before him, between his teeth was the stem of his pipe, and in consequence his face beamed with contentment, pleasure, good humour, and indolence.

The digger, on the other hand, looked serious, not to say anxious, and his manner was full of uneasiness. His gla.s.s stood untouched, his half-finished pipe had gone out, and he could not sit still, but began to pace backwards and forwards restlessly.

"I've put my foot in it," he said, pulling nervously at his bushy beard.

"I've quarrelled with the toffs of the town, and the best thing I can do is to make a git. I'll start for the bush to-morrer."

"Now you're talking bunk.u.m," said Tresco, as the smoke from his pipe wreathed above his head. "I know those men--two bigger rogues never breathed. They simply wanted to fleece you, and instead of that you gave 'em one in the eye. More power to you: it was immense! As for old Mr.

Crewe and his crowd, they were on the make too; but they are out of court--there's no chance of them trying to renew your acquaintance. Now, what you must do is to enjoy yourself quietly, and by-and-by get back to your claim. But, for to-night, we'll have a good time--a little liquor, a quiet game of cards, a bit of a talk, and perhaps a better understanding."

"To speak the blanky truth," said the digger, "you're the whitest man I've met. True, I've give myself away a bit, but you're the only man ain't tried to do the pump-handle business with me."

"I'll buy all the gold you like to bring to town."

"Right! Here's my fist: you shall 'ave all I git."

The two men solemnly shook hands.

"Drink your liquor," said Tresco. "It'll do you good."

The digger drank, and re-lit his pipe.

"Now, what I says is that there's men I like to put in the way of a good thing."

"Same here," said Benjamin.

"An' I say you've dealt honest by me, and I'll deal fair and open with you."

"What I should expect," said Benjamin.

"I've found a good thing--more than I could ever want myself, if I lived a hundred years. I intend to do the handsome to a few o' my pals."

"I'm one."

"You're one. First, I shall go back and do a bit more prospecting, and see if I can better my claim. Then I shall come to town, and let my mates into the know."

"Just so."

"By-and-by we'll slip out o' town, an' no man any the wiser. You can't track _me_--I'm too smart, by long chalks."

Tresco's gla.s.s stood empty.

"We'll drink to it," he said, and rang the little hand-bell that stood on the table.

Gentle Annie entered, with that regal air common to bar-maids who rule their soggy realms absolutely.

"Well, old gentleman, same old tipple, I suppose," said she to Tresco.