s heard of till they came to the country
with the gold rush.

We'd made all our bits of preparations, and thought nothing stood in the
way of a start next evening. This was Friday. Jim hadn't sold his bits
of traps, because he didn't want it to be known he wasn't coming back.
He left word with a friend he could trust, though, to have 'em all
auctioned and the goodwill of his cottage, and to send the money after
him. My share and his in the claim went to Arizona Bill and his mate. We
had no call to be ashamed of the money that stood to our credit in the
bank. That we intended to draw out, and take with us in an order or a
draft, or something, to Melbourne. Jeanie had her boxes packed, and was
so wild with looking forward to seeing St. Kilda beach again that she
could hardly sleep or eat as the time drew near.

Friday night came; everything had been settled. It was the last night we
should either of us spend at the Turon for many a day--perhaps never. I
walked up and down the streets, smoking, and thinking it all over. The
idea of bed was ridiculous. How wonderful it all seemed! After what we
had gone through and the state we were in less than a year ago, to think
that we were within so little of being clear away and safe for ever in
another country, with as much as would keep us comfortable for life.
I could see Gracey, Aileen, and Jeanie, all so peaceful and loving
together, with poor old mother, who had lost her old trick of listening
and trembling whenever she heard a strange step or the tread of a horse.
What a glorious state of things it would be! A deal of it was owing to
the gold. This wonderful gold! But for it we shouldn't have had such a
chance in a hundred years. I was that restless I couldn't settle, when
I thought, all of a sudden, as I walked up and down, that I had promised
to go and say good-bye to Kate Mullockson, at the Prospectors' Arms,
the night before we started. I thought for a moment whether it would be
safer to let it alone. I had a strange, unwilling kind of feeling about
going there again; but at last, half not knowing what else to do, and
half not caring to make an enemy of Kate, if I could help it, I walked
up.

It was latish. She was standing near the bar, talking to half-a-dozen
people at once, as usual; but I saw she noticed me at once. She quickly
drew off a bit from them all; said it was near shutting-up time, and,
after a while, passed through the bar into the little parlour where I