To The West Part 112

His hiding-place was down in the sand, right in the beaten track people walked over on their way up the valley.

We worked on busily for a month after Mr Gunson's coming back to his claim; and then one day we struck camp and marched back to the Fort, with a small quant.i.ty of gold, the fifth that we had taken up.

"Why, hallo!" cried Mr Raydon as he came in and found us there, with Mr and Mrs John, and Gunson looking very serious.

"Yes," he said. "It's all over. My luck again."

"What do you mean?"

"That was a rich little deposit, and we have gleaned the last grain.

The other people are doing badly too, and going back."

"But there must be plenty more," said Mr Raydon.

"No; I believe we have pretty well cleared the valley."

"Then I am delighted," cried Mr Raydon. "Gunson, I congratulate you."

"Indeed!" said Gunson, coldly.

"Yes, for now there will be an end to this grasping, avaricious work, and our pleasant vales will return to the condition that is best."

"The hope of my life is crushed, man, and I must begin my weary hunt again," said Gunson, bitterly.

"No; your new and happier, more manly life is now about to commence.

Look here, what gold have you got?"

"You know."

"Not I. I know that I supplied you with a couple of sheep-skins, which you made into bags, and that those bags are in my strong box. What have you?"

"After I have fairly apportioned shares to Mayne, to Dean, and to my little Chinese friend, I shall have a thousand pounds' worth for myself."

"Ample, and double what you will require, man," said Mr Raydon. "Think where you are, in a country--a virgin country--as beautiful, more beautiful than dear old England, a place where for almost nothing you may select land by one of our lovely streams, which, as the writer said, is waiting to be tickled with a hoe, that it may laugh with a harvest.

Come: England is too narrow for such a man as you. Take up land, make a ranch if you like, or farm as they farm at home; sow your grains of gold in the shape of wheat, and they will come up a hundredfold. Build your house, and send for the mother and sister of whom you spoke to me when you were so weak."

"I spoke!" said Gunson, wonderingly. "Yes; you were half delirious, but you spoke of a dear mother and sister in England; bring them to share your prosperity, for prosperity must come; and it is a life worth living, after all."

As he spoke I felt my heart swell with hope; the gloomy feelings of disappointment pa.s.sed away, and I found myself gazing with astonishment at Mr Gunson, whose morose, disfigured face seemed to brighten up and glow, while his eye flashed again, as when Mr Raydon finished speaking he leaned forward and grasped his hand.

"G.o.d bless you for those words," he said; "you have made light shine into a darkened heart. I will do this thing. Heaven helping me, I will never seek for a grain of gold again."

"I shall register your oath, Gunson," said Mr Raydon, smiling.

"Do. It will be kept. Yes: I will fetch them over; and, Mrs John, it will be one of the delights of my new life, to introduce two ladies most dear to me to one whom they will venerate and love. Mayne, you have never told them all I said to you?"

"No," I said; "it would have been a breach of confidence."

I looked up as I spoke, and saw that Mr Raydon's eyes were fixed upon me searchingly, and his voice sounded harsh again as he said--

"It was a breach of confidence, Mayne Gordon, to tell Mr Gunson here of the existence of gold in the little valley. Do you remember your promise to me?"

"Yes, sir," I said, boldly, for I felt that at last the truth must come out, and I should be cleared; for I would speak now if Mr Gunson did not. "I remember well."

"Mayne," said Gunson; and my heart seemed to leap--"Mayne tell me about the gold up yonder? No, no; it was not he."

"What!" cried Mr Raydon, excitedly. "It was not Mayne Gordon who told you?"

"No; it was that little Chinaman confided to me that he had made a big find. The little fellow always had confidence in me. He brought me quite a hundred pounds' worth to take care of for him when I was here last, and proposed to put himself under my protection and to work for me if I allowed him a tenth."

"Then it was not Mayne?" cried Mrs John, excitedly.

"No, madam. I knew friend Raydon would be angry, but I was obliged to accept the offer, for I felt that some time or other the people would come, and I argued that the sooner it was all cleared out the better for Raydon's peace of mind. You knew it must be discovered."

"Yes; I always knew that; but I wanted to keep away those who came as long as possible."

"They are going already, and you will soon have your vales in peace again."

"Yes, yes, yes," muttered Mr Raydon, beginning to walk up and down the room, while I felt in such a whirl of excitement, as I saw Mrs John's beautiful, motherly eyes fixed lovingly on mine, and felt Mr John s.n.a.t.c.h my hand and press it, and then give vent to his delight at the clearing up by slapping me heavily on the shoulder, that I could not see Mr Raydon's puckered brow. What I did see was the bear's head looking down at me, showing its grinning teeth as if it were laughing and pleased, and the moose staring at me with its mournful aspect less marked. All nonsense this, I know, but there was a feeling of joy within me that filled me with exultation.

The silence was almost painful at last, and the tension grew to such an extent that I felt at last that I must run out and tell Esau I had misjudged him, as I had been misjudged, when Mr Raydon stopped before me and said softly--

"You remember your Latin, Mayne?"

"A little, sir," I said, wondering at his words.

"_Humanum est curare_. You know that?"

"Yes, sir," I said, huskily; "but please don't say any more."

"I must. I have erred bitterly. I was blind to the truth. Will you forgive me?"

"Mr Raydon!" I cried.

"My dear boy," he said, as he grasped my hands; and, to my astonishment, I saw the tears standing in his eyes, while I could not help thinking as he stood there softened towards me, how like he seemed to his sister; "you do not know how I have suffered, hard, cold man as I have grown in my long residence in these wilds."

"But it's all past now, sir," I said; "and you know the truth."

"Yes; all past," said Gunson, warmly.

"Past; but I shall never forget it, Mayne. My dear sister's letter interested me deeply in you, and when you came I felt that she had not exaggerated, and you at once made your way with me. Then came this wretched misunderstanding, blinding me to everything but the fact that I had received a wound, one which irritated me more than I can say."

"Pray, pray say no more, sir," I cried, excitedly.

"I must, Mayne. I ought to have known better."

"I am glad, Dan," cried Mr John, exultingly. "I have always been such a weak, easily-led-away man, that my life has been a series of mistakes; and it is a delightful triumph to me to find that my hard-headed, stern brother-in-law can blunder too."

"Yes; it will take some of the conceit out of me," said Mr Raydon, smiling. "There; shake hands, my lad. I read your forgiveness in your eyes."