e he had spent so many hours during the last four
years, at the bench which bore on every square inch of its surface the
marks of his labour. But Tresco knew, as did also Jake Ruggles and the
Prospector who watched him, that the end of his labours had come.

The goldsmith's thoughts were in keeping with his work: he was about to
make a wedding-ring, and his speech was of Love.

First, he took a little ingot of pure gold, and, laying it on the smooth
surface of what looked like an upturned, handleless flat-iron, he
wrought upon the precious, yellow metal with a hammer, till it was
shaped like a badly-made rod.

This he handed over to Jake, who put it on the wire "devil" and strove
with blow-pipe and flame to bring it to a red heat.

"Woman," said Benjamin, "Woman is like a beautiful scene, or the perfume
of a delicate rose--every man loves her, be he prince or pauper, priest
or murderer. To labour for Woman is the sweetest work of Man--that's why
a goldsmith is in love with his craft. Think of all the pretty creatures
I have made happy with my taste and skill. While there are women there
must be goldsmiths, Jake!"

"What?" asked the apprentice, taking his lips from the stem of the
blow-pipe, and looking at his master.

"You're sure this is the correct size?" Tresco held an old-fashioned
ring between his forefinger and thumb, and tested with the point of a
burnisher the setting of the rubies in it.

"Yes," replied the shock-headed youth. "I seen her take it orf her
finger, when the toff bought her engagement-ring. I was 'all there,'
don't you make no mistake. 'Leave this,' I said, looking at the rubies;
'the settin' is a bit shaky,' I says. 'Allow me to fix it,' I says. An'
there you are with a pattern. Savee?"

Benjamin laughed.

"Mind you make it real good," said the Prospector, who stood, watching
the operation. "Person'lly, I'd say put a good big diamond in the
centre."

"'Twouldn't do," replied the goldsmith. "Unfortunately, Custom says
wedding-rings must be plain, so plain it must be."

"Then let it be pure," said the Prospector. "Anyway it'll bring good
luck."

He had divided his lucky nugget, the same that he had refused to sell
when he made the goldsmith's acquaintance and sold the first gold from
Bush Robin Creek, and while he had retained one half of this talisman,
out of the other half Tresco was fashioning a wedding-ring for Scarlett.

The red-hot piece of gold had been cooled suddenly by bein