t, and now experienced some sense of disappointment at
finding her unmoved.

'Mind, darlin'? Cud I expect to be keepin' you here all the days of your
life? Where are you going?'

'To the new diggin's, Jim Crow.'

'It's a wild field, they tell me, Jimmy. No fighting, mind. Leastwise,
none for other girls.'

'We start early in the morning.'

'I'll be up to throw an old shoe after you.'

'I came to say good-bye to-night.'

'Good-bye, is it?' She flashed upon him, her face crimsoned, and a look,
half fearful, half angry, glowed in her splendid eyes. But the feeling
was only momentary; laughter rippled into her cheeks again, and she wound
her arms about his neck. 'Good-bye?' she said. 'And isn't it breakin'
your heart you are to be sayin' good-bye to me?'

Done clasped her closer, and kissed her, stirred by her warmth and her
beauty.

'Ah, my dear, dear boy, you may say good-bye to me a thousand times if
you'll cure the sting with such kisses,' she said softly.

When Jim returned to their tent he found Burton already abed. Mike
continued to read his paper, smoking placidly, but he was feeling no
little concern. He had feared the result of that last interview with
Aurora, and now waited the word from Done, who seated himself on his bunk
and unlaced his boots in silence.

'She took it without a whimper,' he said presently.

'No!'

'She didn't speak a word or raise a finger to keep me.'

'Well, I'm blowed!' Burton was openly delighted; not so Done, who, true
to the contrariness of poor human nature, was apparently quite depressed.

Jim Crow, maddest of fields, like Tarrangower, which came later, resort
of the most turbulent spirits, and a favourite centre with runaway
convicts, gold-robbers, and the riffraff of the rushes, was still young
when Burton and Done went, hastening down the hills on to the lead, with
the thin but turbulent stream of diggers, but its character was already
formed. Here the revolver was counted among the necessities of life, and
although the main body of the diggers, as on all the other fields, were
sober, industrious, and decent men, there was so strong a leaven of
dare-devils and so varied an admixture of rogues and vagabonds that Jim
Crow quickly won itself an unenviable reputation on all the rushes, from
Buninyong to Bendigo, and, rich as it was, diggers found it as difficult
to keep their gold as to win it. The Jim Crow ranges were within an
hour's flight, and offered splendid cov