‘Old Jack, who was just going to the township, and, being in full fig, had of course got his six-shooter, had fired right and left with good effect, so that when the Inspector lined up with the flower of the police force, fully armed, there was nothing to do but to carry off the wounded and bury the casualties. That was our Waterloo—short, sharp, and decisive; if it hadn’t been for Minniekins, we should have been taken, wholly unprepared—like the War Office in the Boer War. I think she ought to be decorated for it.’
‘And Lord Newstead—I suppose he recovered?’
‘I can answer for that,’ said Mrs. Lilburne, ‘as I had him under my care for a month, and a very refractory patient he was. He went home by the next P. & O.’
‘Of course he did,’ said Southwater, in an aggrieved tone, ‘and swelled about with his arm in a sling, giving himself the airs and graces of the wounded warrior, and letting the girls wait upon him all the way to Marseilles, under the impression that “his heart was weak,” and all sorts of humbug, while Chesterfield and I had to come back here and—er—take up the weary round of toil and what’s-its-name.’
‘Well, it seems to agree with you, Mr. Southwater,’ said the girl, smiling in so bewitching a fashion that a man might have been nerved to even greater exertion than such as was demanded from the shareholders in a mine which had reached the dividend-paying stage, and _such_ dividends too, as the ‘Last Chance, Limited,’ was even now disbursing.
‘“All’s well that ends well,” is a comfortable proverb. I feel pretty well, thank you, Miss White, and am gratified for the compliment. But here is old Jack coming forward to welcome this honourable party, and to do the honours in proper goldfield style.’
That venerable ancient now arrived on the scene, his bronzed and gnarled countenance wrinkled into an expression of welcome, which seemed with difficulty to adapt itself to his rugged face. The intention, however, was unmistakable.
‘Proud to see you, Mrs. Lilburne—and Miss Jean. Lord love her, hasn’t she growed into the beauty of the world! How you’ve shot up, to be sure! It’s many a long year since your father and I met on the other side. Well, he was always lucky—in more ways than one—that I’ll say and stand to. Glad to see you, sir! Like to see the mine? Saw the big silver mine at Los Angelos, did you? I was there many a year ago. Didn’t ought to have come away neither. But I was a “forty-niner.” Couldn’t help following the rush to ’Frisco—what a time it was! There’ll never be anything like it again while the world lasts.’