“It may be so,” I answered stiffly.
“You came here to meet George Vail?”
“I most certainly did.”
“And you don’t know him when you see him?”
Was my brain failing? I advanced to my persecutor and instantly it
flashed upon me. I threw my arms around the girl and carried her up to
the light, there was no mistake, it was George Vail, he struggled to get
free but I held him fast.
“You humbug,” I cried, “Even now when I know, you, you look pretty
enough to kiss.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes,” and remembering that he had kissed me when I lay in a half faint,
I stooped down and kissed him on the cheek blushing as I did so, but
George’s blushes were carnation compared with mine, and I set him down
on his feet.
“What a stupid,” he said.
“I quite agree with you.”
“And you don’t understand yet?”
“Understand what?”
“That—that I am a girl.”
“A girl!”
“Yes.”
“And always have been?” I blundered out in my blunt way.
The only answer was a merry, ringing laugh. “Yes and always have been.”
“Then I am doubly glad I kissed you.”
“You held me.”
“No matter. Tell me, I am dying of impatience.”
“You made a promise to the old man, did you not?”
“Yes, and I think I understand. He must have known the secret. How did
he discover it?”
“He knew immediately and accused me and I confessed.”
“And I was a stupid.”
“You did not find me out.”
“Who are you?”
“Helen Vail.”
“I am glad that I have only lost one half of my old partner, you are at
least Vail.”
Then Helen told me her story. Her father had been an English half-pay
officer, who on his retirement from the army had emigrated to Sydney in
the hope of bettering his condition. His wife having died the first year
after his removal to the colony, his health had failed, and as Helen was
the only child her life had been devoted to his care. They had no
surviving relatives, so far as she was aware and when her father died a
few months previous to my meeting her at Coolgardie, his sudden death
had thrown her pennyless on the world, as his pension ceased with his
life. After the small debts and the funeral expenses had been paid there
only remained some fifty pounds with which to face the world. She had
proceeded to Melbourne and in vain attempted to secure employment as a
governess, but her youth and inexperience had proved an insuperable
stumbling block and as a final resort she had resolved to go to the gold
fields of West Australia and to facilitate her project and chances of
success she had donned a man’s dress and made her way to Coolgardie. Her
timidity and the roughness of the miners had prevented her from engaging
in any enterprise and but for my arrival and friendship she would have
been compelled to acknowledge her sex and obtain menial employment.
When she had concluded I said, “The natives found you an excellent shot,
even if you are a girl.”
“Yes, my poor father taught me the use of the revolver when I was a
little girl and that gave me confidence and taught me the tactics, for I
had frequently heard him give his experience of adventures among the
hill tribes in India, where he was stationed for many years.”
“After we came to Perth, why did you retire for a month and why did you
lead me through such a maze before you made yourself known?”
“I had to secure a wardrobe and to remove the tan from my face and then
I wished to ascertain whether you would recognize me in my new apparel.”
“Where did you hide?”
“I went to the Convent and the good sisters took me in and were very
kind to me, though the Lady Superioress read me many lectures on the
enormity of my sin and extracted from me a solemn promise that I would
never again commit the offence.”
“There is one more mystery which I should like to have cleared up. It
is, how did the old man become possessed of the secret that a box of
opals had been buried on the island in the lagoon?”
“For many, many years he was a squatter in Queensland, so long ago that
the penal system was in vogue in that and the other colonies. He had on
his station at one time a ticket-of-leave man, by the name of Vigor,
whom he treated very kindly. Vigor had been transported for forgery and
was intelligent and had been educated as a mining engineer. He was a
lifer and the one object of his life was to return to England, where he
had a wife and family. The old man won his gratitude by attempting to
secure a pardon for him from the authorities at Sydney, but his efforts
were fruitless. Vigor, who acted as a shepherd on the run, found the
opal mine but kept the secret to himself. He dug out the opals found by
us and made his escape to Sydney where he hoped to obtain passage to
England but failed. He was finally captured and sent to Norfolk Island
from which place he was transferred to West Australia. The opals he had
buried in Sydney. On his return to Sydney he dug them up and carried
them with him to the west coast. At Perth, as a ticket of leave man he
went into the service of a squatter. He wrote a letter to his old master
in Queensland telling him that he possessed the treasure and that if he
did not succeed in getting away from the colony he would bequeath it to
him on his death, sending at the same time the sample which I found.
Vigor kept an accurate account of the journey into the interior in
search of pasture and made a map of the route as well as of the spot
where he ultimately buried the opals. Vigor and his companions made
their way to the coast but he was so enfeebled in consequence of the
hardships he had undergone that he died in a few months after his
return. Previous to his death he sent to his old employer the map by
which we located the treasure. The old man had no faith that he would be
able to find the opals and years passed by. The great drought in
Queensland ruined him and as a last resort he came to Perth and set out
on his search, encouraged by the fact that the gold miners were pouring
into the interior. You know the rest and his unfortunate death at our
camp. When he ascertained that I was a girl and had heard my story his
heart went out to me and he gave me the treasure, provided I could find
it.”
“And you divided it with me.”
“That was only fair.”
“Yes, if you had been a man, but as you are not you must take my part
less the few pounds which I have spent.”
“Never,” exclaimed Helen the tears coming to her eyes.
I had loved Vail as a boy, as a girl I worshipped my old partner and the
result was that within one week we were married and are now on our way
to the Illawarra district where I propose buying a small station and
settling down for life. Some time in the future my partner and I will go
to Queensland and on the run of the old man, which is on the Barcoo,
attempt to locate the original opal mine.
Eighteen months later I was not surprised when I read in the _Sydney
Morning Herald_ that a very rich deposit of opals had been discovered on
the Barcoo by a man named Detmold.
THE BLACK CAT OF
KLONDIKE.
In the winter of 1896 I was attending the Osgoode Hall Law School,
Toronto, and drawing wills, deeds and mortgages for a firm of barristers
on a salary of five dollars per week. I was young and ambitions and
dreamed that it was only a question of time when I should become, if not
a judge, at least a leading barrister. At a conversat, given by the Law
Society, I met my fate and fell in love with Edith Hauthaway. The
passion was reciprocated and a few weeks later we were engaged. When the
marriage would take place was delightfully nebulous as was my legal
status. We had decided that it was to be and that was all-sufficient.
One caution we exercised and but one, it was, we kept the engagement a
secret. Edith’s father was a broker living in a fine residence on
fashionable St. George Street, and reputed to be in very comfortable
circumstances. Possibly he might object to the betrothal of his only
child to an impecunious law student, who had only passed his first exam,
and was by no means certain of passing the next one. So we drifted
pleasantly with the tide and cherished our secret with infinite
satisfaction. One Saturday afternoon I received a hurried note from
Edith asking me to call that evening. Instinctively I felt that our
mutual happiness was threatened. I was busy engrossing a mortgage at the
time and unconsciously I made all the sums payable to Edith Hauthaway,
instead of Isaac Lazerus.