“It’s our home now. That’s how I see it. We came out here and started again.”
“And you want to spend all your life here … looking after a property,” I said.
“No,” said James emphatically.
“I do not! I’ve made up my mind what I’m going to do. I’m going to find … opals … We’re in the right spot for it. There have been some discoveries at a place called Lightning Ridge. Opals are there for the finding.”
There was another of those flashes of memory. I was in the drawing-room, we were having tea, and Lucian Crompton was talking about opals.
“Why do all those people who are hunting for them not get them, then?” said Gertie.
“Don’t be an idiot, Gertie. You’ve got to find them. And that’s what I intend to do. I’ve made up my mind.”
“Well, according to your reckoning, if everybody found them, there’d be nothing but millionaires all over Australia
“I’m going to find them,” said James.
“What about you then, Carmel?” asked Gertie.
“I want to go to sea with my father.”
“They don’t have women sailors.”
“There are stewardesses,” I said.
“You wouldn’t want to do that. It would be infra dig, with your father a captain. You’ll just have to go on voyages with him. That would be fun.”
“Well, I shall be off just after Christmas,” said James.
“Father says I’ll have to get it out of my system. There was a man who came to the property once. He talked about it. It was while you were away at school. We stayed up almost all night talking. He told us how they go into the old gullies and work on the creek … how they go fossicking … how careful you have to be, raking round in the dirt … and how some of the finest black opals in the world come from Australia. You all live in shanty towns near where they’re working. Of course, on Saturday night, it’s like one big party. They dance, and sing the old songs they sang at home.
And sometimes they roast a pig and everyone joins in. It’s a grand life, with always the hope . “
He was looking at me as he was speaking, and I said, “That sounds exciting.”
“You’d love it,” said James.
“I know you would, Carmel. It must be the most exciting thing imaginable in the middle of all that potch that’s what they call the rubbish to find one of those gorgeous brilliant stones. There’s a famous one … like a sunset. Fancy finding something like that!”
“Listen to him,” mocked Gertie.
“He’s getting poetical. He does that when he talks about opals. That old sundowner who talked to you about it, was he the one who walked off with Ma’s gold watch?”
“No,” retorted James fiercely.
“He was not.”
“Tell Carmel about the thieving sundowner. He beguiled you all with his tales. Then he took what he could and went off.”
“That only happened once,” said James. He turned to me.
“You know there’s a tradition here. Swagmen walk the bush trails and, when they can, they take shelter, get food and a good night’s rest. If a swagman wants a night’s lodging, he shouldn’t turn up till the sun is almost on the horizon, just before it goes down. Then it would be bad manners not to take him in just as it would be bad manners for him to come before.”
“I didn’t know there was protocol on these matters,” I said.
“Decidedly so. That’s why they are called sun downers explained Gertie.
“Well, this one arrived. Dad was away for the night.
I wonder if he would have seen through him. “
“No one could have,” said James indignantly.
“He seemed ordinary enough.”
“Except that he’d had such wonderful adventures in the gold fields that he should have become a millionaire. James couldn’t do enough for him.
He had his meal. He was given a bed, and next morning, before the household was awake, he went off with the leg of lamb we were to have for dinner that day when Father returned, plus Ma’s gold watch. “
“I’ve never known it happen before,” said James.
“There’s usually honour among sun downers
Gertie shrugged and turned to me.
She said: “I should like to go home and see Aunt Beatrice.”
Two days later Mr. Forman suggested that James go over and make sure that Jack Jensen was progressing well and find out if he wanted anything done for him.
James asked if I would like to go with him for the ride, and I said I would.
So we set out. Jack Jensen was getting better and said he could manage very well. We were given lunch and in the late afternoon set out for home.
We had a pleasant ride back. I was liking James more and more and he was very attentive to me, showing very clearly how much he enjoyed my visits to his home.
I encouraged him to talk about his ambition, because I knew how much he liked to and, as he extolled the beauty of opals, my thoughts went back again to Commonwood House, and it was Lucian whom I heard speaking, for, on that strange day, Lucian had talked as enthusiastically about them as James was doing now.
I brought myself back to the present with an effort.
James was saying he had several books on opals. I tried to listen, but I could not draw myself completely away from the past. Then I heard James say that it was time we started to move.
As we rode along, he sang the songs which he told me they sang on those Saturday nights when the miners were all together. Most of them were Christmas carols! Ringing the old year out and the new year in was the one I remembered.
James had a good tenor voice, which was very pleasant, and, as he sang the song, I fancied I caught a tone of nostalgia in his voice:
“I saw the old homestead and faces I love, I saw England’s valleys and dells, I listened with joy, as I did when a boy, To the sound of the old village bells.
The log was burning brightly, Twas a night that should banish all sin, For the bells were ringing the old year out, And the new year in.
“One day,” went on James, ‘when I have found the finest opal in Australia, when I have made my fortune, I shall go home. I shall find a beautiful house-an old one-a manor, I thinkin the country.
I should love that. Wouldn’t you, Carmel? “
“I think it sounds very exciting,” I agreed.
I could see myself in such a house, not with James, but with Toby, who would have given up the sea. He would be sitting with me in the twilight, telling me stories of his adventures on board ship.
James jerked me out of my reverie. I heard him say: “I suppose it’s there in most of us, that feeling for home. Genie’s got it badly. She never lost it. Yes, I think that would be right in the end … when one has done all one has set out to do.”
He was certainly solemn, gazing ahead.
We had loitered quite a while and the property came into view just as the sun was about to go down. Mrs. Forman would be pleased. She never liked us to be out after sundown.
We galloped across the stretch of land which led to the house and, as we approached, James pulled up sharply.
Mr. Forman had come down from the porch and was talking to someone in an open shirt and trousers the worse for wear. I noticed the stranger was carrying his billy can without which few swag men were ever seen.
James gave an exclamation and said: “No! It can’t be.”
His father and the man turned to look at us.
“It is!” cried James, and his face was suddenly distorted with anger.
“What do you want here?” he demanded.
The man and Mr. Forman stared at him in amazement.
“This is the one,” cried James.
“This is the thief. Have you brought back the watch you stole?”
“James!” began Mr. Forman.
“I tell you, it is the thief. What insolence! To come back after ..”
James slid down from his horse and approached the man menacingly.