He returned only to die, and his wife soon
followed him to the grave. Having no other friend or relative in the
colonies, the child had been left with her aged grandfather, who
appeared as infatuated with the gold-fields as a more hale and younger
man. His strength and health were rapidly failing, yet he still dug on.
"We shall be rich, and Jessie a fine lady before I die," was ever his
promise to her, and that at times when they were almost wanting food.
It was with no idle curiosity that we listened to her; none could help
feeling deeply interested in the energetic, unselfish, orphan girl. She
was not beautiful, nor was she fair - she had none of those childish
graces which usually attract so much attention to children of her age;
her eyes were heavy and bloodshot (with work, weeping, cold, and
hunger) except when she spoke of her sick grandfather, and then they
disclosed a world of tenderness; her hair hung matted round her
head; her cheek was wan and sallow; her dress was ill-made and
threadbare; yet even thus, few that had once looked at her but would
wish to look again. There was an indescribable sweetness about the
mouth; the voice was low and musical; the well-shaped head was firmly
set upon her shoulders; a fine open forehead surmounted those drooping
eyes; there was almost a dash of independence; a "little woman" manner
about her that made one imperceptibly forget how young she was in
years.
A slight noise in the tent - a gentle moan.
"He's waked; I must go to him, and," in a lower, almost a deprecating
tone, "he doesn't like to hear stranger folks about."
We cheerfully complied with the hint and departed, Frank first putting
some money into her hand, and promising to call again for the candles
and veils she seemed quite anxious we should take in return.
Our thoughts were as busy as our tongues were silent, during the time
that elapsed before we reached home. When we entered, we found a
discussion going on, and words were running high. My brother and
Octavius were for going somewhere to work, not idle about as
they were doing now; William. wanted to go for a "pleasure trip" to
Forest Creek, and then return to Melbourne for a change. Frank listened
to it all for some minutes, and then made a speech, the longest I ever
heard from him, of which I will repeat portions, as it will explain our
future movements.
"This morning, when going down the gully, I met the person whom we
bought the dray-horses of in Melbourne. I asked him how he was doing,
and he answered, 'badly enough; but a friend's just received accounts
of some new diggings out Albury way, and there I mean to go.' He showed
me also a letter he had received from a party in Melbourne, who were
going there.
