I looked about me at the grove of eucalypts in which the assassin might have hidden. Beyond them was a hill—a small mountain perhaps, down which a stream trickled into the creek below.
It was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen.
“And here he met his death,” I said bitterly, ‘he who was in love with life, who had made such plans and had so many dreams. It need never have happened. He died . for gold. I hate gold. “
“Come away, Nora,” said Stirling.
“He died and you’ve lost him, but you have us now. Nora, you have me.”
I turned and looked at him; he brought his horse closer to mine and taking my hand pressed it briefly.
“I’ll make it up to you, Nora,” he said earnestly.
“You’ll
All that day and the next I kept thinking of my father and that poor man who was dying of phthisis; and when I was weeding in Adelaide’s garden I suddenly looked up and saw Lynx standing there watching me.
“How long have you been there?” I demanded.
Up went an eyebrow.
“I don’t answer questions when they are put so peremptorily.”
“I don’t like being watched when I’m unaware of it.”
“I don’t like people who are impolite.”
“Nor do I,” I retorted, standing up. The thought of that poor man dying of his lung complaint made me angry and I didn’t care whether or not I offended Lynx.
He decided not to be offended.
“I’m glad to see you working,” he said.
“I don’t like idleness in this house.”
“If you expect me to work you should say so. Perhaps you would like me to work down in your gold mine.”
He pretended to consider this.
“In what capacity, do you think?”
I decided not to answer that and said: “I understand that I own some shares in the company.”
“Your father had a few … a very few. They are not worth much.”
“Lite the mine itself, perhaps.”
“You are an expert on mining?”
“I know nothing of it, and don’t want to. I would rather not be connected with such a thing.”
He said: “I think it is time you and I had a talk. There are certain things we should know about each other.”
“I am eager to know of what concerns me.”
“Come to the library after dinner tonight.” He left me and I turned to Adelaide’s herb garden; the strong smell of sage was in the air. I thought: Tonight I will be bold. I will tell him what I think of this mine in which young men become old men before their time and ruin their lungs.
He did not appear at dinner that night, and I wondered whether when I went to his library he would be there. He was. He was sitting at table sipping a glass of what I presumed to be port wine. I guessed he had eaten dinner alone in this room, which I understood he did on some occasions.
“Ah, he said.
“Come in, Miss Nora. Sit there opposite me where I can see you.” I sat down. The light in the room was dim. Only two of the several oil lamps had been lighted.
“You will have a glass of port wine.” I declined because he made it sound more like a statement than an invitation.
He lifted the decanter and poured himself another glassful. I noticed his hands then for the first time; the fingers were long and slender and on the little finger of the right hand was a ring with a carved jade stone. There was an elegance about his smallest gesture and I could imagine his living graciously in an old English country mansion.
“You wanted to know about your position here,” he said.
“You are my ward. I am your guardian. This was arranged by your father before his untimely end. He knew the hazards of this country and he often talked, in this room, of his fears and anxieties; and I gave him my promise that in the event of his death before you reached the age of twenty-one, I would take you into my care.”
“He must have had some premonition that he was going to die.”
He shook his head.
“Your father was a man who dreamed wild dreams. He was enthusiastic about them but in his heart he knew they would never come true. Deep in his mind he admitted to himself that he would never make his fortune; but it was only when he considered you that he made practical plans. You can count that as a measure of his affection for you. For you he stepped outside himself and admitted the truth as he knew it to be. So he made this bargain with me and before he died he drew up a document appointing me as your guardian. I agreed to his request—so here we are. ” Why did he choose you?”
Again that tilt of the eyebrow.
“You say that as though you think me unworthy of his trust?”
“He knew you such a short time.”
“He knew me well enough. We knew each other. Therefore, you have to accept me. You have no alternative.”
“I daresay I could earn my living.”
“In the mine … as you suggested? It is not easy for a young woman to earn a living unless it is as a housemaid or something such, which I do assure you would be a very poor one.”
“I have these shares in the mine.”
“They don’t amount to much. They wouldn’t keep you for long.”
“I would rather not have any money which belonged to me supporting a gold mine.”
“The shares can be sold. They won’t realize very much. The mine is known to be a not very profitable concern.”
“Why continue with it?”
“Hope. We always hope.”
“And meanwhile people die while you continue to hope?”
“You are thinking of your father. That is a fate which many people have met in this country. These bush rangers are everywhere. We could all encounter them.”
“I am thinking of a poor man I saw the other day. He was suffering from a lung complaint.”
“Oh … phthisis.”
“You speak as though it were about as important as a headache.”
“It’s a mining hazard.”
“Like death from bush rangers"
“Are you suggesting that I close the mine because a man is suffering from phthisis?”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
“You are a reformer, and like most reformers you understand little of what you hope to reform. If I closed my mine what would happen to all my workers? They would be starved to death in a week or so.”
“I want nothing to do with this mine.”
“Your shares shall be sold and the money banked for you. I warn you it will not be much more than a hundred pounds. And if we struck gold ..”
I don’t want anything to do with gold mining. “
He sighed and looked at me over his port, his eyes glistening.
“You are not very wise. There is a saying at home:
“Your heart rules your head.” You think with your emotions. That can get you into difficult situations and is not much help at extricating you. “
“You would be different. You think with your head.”
“That’s what heads are for.”
“And hearts?”
“To control the circulation of the blood.”
I laughed and so did he.
“Is there anything else you wish to know?” he asked.
“Yes. What am I expected to do here?”
“Do? You will help Adelaide perhaps, as a younger sister would. This is your home now. You must treat it as such.”
I looked round the room seeing it for the first time. Books lined one wall, there was an open fireplace in which logs were burning; several pictures hung on the walls and it was exactly as one would expect an English library to be. On a highly polished oak table was a chess set.
The pieces were laid out as though someone were about to play, and an exclamation escaped me because I knew that set well. It was beautiful; the pieces were made of white and brownish ivory, and there were brilliants in the crowns of the kings and queens; the squares on the board were of white and deep pink marble. I had played on it with my father.