Then, as Charlie stood with the diamond in his hand, the thought came into his head, what would happen to the diamond now that the lucky digger who had found it had gone to where there is no more luck? He remembered that old David once told him that he had neither kith nor kin whom he knew of. Well, the stone would probably go to the Government, or to enrich lawyers who would reap the rich harvest of actions over it.

Perhaps some peasant at home would be found, who would be proved to be old David's next-of-kin, though he would have as little to do with the old man as if he had lived in another world. He remembered that some days before they had talked about digging together. If they had only come to terms then, he would have had his share of this find. Why it would be absurd to let the diamond do no one any good. Had he not done his best to save the old man and risked his life, and nearly lost it amongst the weeds? Would it not be throwing away his good luck if he did not keep the treasure-trove which was his by natural right if not by law? How much that stone meant to him. It must be worth many thousand pounds, as much money as any diamond. With the money he could get for it he could go home, not as an unsuccessful prodigal, but as a prosperous man come back to live the pleasant life of an English gentleman.

The sight of the diamond, and the knowledge of the lot of money it was worth, seemed to make Charlie realise how sick he was of the hopeless, wandering life he was living, and how he longed for civilisation and refinement again. If he only had some money he could go home and have another chance. A few more years of the life he was leading and he would be fit for nothing else, and even if luck came to him it would be no use.

As he was thinking he looked up and saw some Kaffir women from the huts standing by the river. He shouted to them, and bargained with them to stop and watch by the body, for he did not like to leave it by itself, unprotected, and then he set out to walk across the veldt to the nearest camp. Before he started he put the purse with the two small diamonds into one pocket, and tying the big diamond up in his handkerchief he put it into the breast-pocket of his coat. He was bound for a place about six miles off, where he could report what had happened. On his way he had to pa.s.s the roadside canteen where old David had spent his last evening. The proprietor of it had just opened the place, so he went in and ordered some breakfast. As he ate it he told the landlord of the fate of his guest of the night before.

The landlord did not seem to waste much pity upon old David. "What, he got drowned, did he? I always told him he would some day, and I advised him not to cross last night, but he was a bit queer in his temper. He wanted me to stick up a drink, but I said it was against the rules. And then he talked a lot about being worth more than I was, and being able to buy up me and my canteen; but none paid much heed to him. I 'spect he ain't left a very big estate behind him?"

"No, he hasn't, poor old chap! Here are his finds--they are not worth much," Charlie said, as he showed the landlord the two small diamonds.

Then he wondered whether he looked like a thief, as he thought of what he had stowed away in his breast-pocket.

He finished his breakfast and had something to drink afterwards, for he felt as if his nerves wanted settling. Just as he was going to start a man, dressed in the uniform of the Mounted Police, came into the bar, and came up to Charlie holding out his hand.

"A happy New Year to you, old boy! Where are you off to this morning?"

he said.

The new arrival was Charlie's old friend and partner, Jack Heathcote.

Jack was as good a fellow as ever lived, and as true a friend, but for the first time since he had known him Charlie did not feel best pleased to see him.

"What's the matter, Charlie?" Jack added, as he noticed a rather downcast look in his friend's face, "you seem a bit down on your luck."

"I have had rather a trying night of it," answered Charlie, and he told how poor old David Miller had upset and got drowned the night before, and what a near thing he had had of it amongst the weeds trying to save him. But there was one part of the story which he kept to himself. He did not say anything about the big diamond, though he produced the two little ones, and asked Jack as he was going into the camp to report the death, and give them up to the authorities.

"All right; I will tell 'em about it, and give these up to the magistrate. They ain't worth much; but poor old David hadn't much better luck than you and I," said Jack. "Come, cheer up, old fellow; after all the old man hadn't much to live for, and you did your level best to save him. Let's have a split, and drink good luck to the New Year. It is about time you and I had a turn of luck, but it never comes to honest men in this cursed country. Well, may we get out of it somehow or the other before the next New Year's Day; may you find a 'big un,' on which you can go home," he said, when their gla.s.ses were filled.

"Who can tell? luck is a queerish thing," Charlie said, as he emptied his gla.s.s.

"So it is--not that I know very much about it, for it has not troubled me much. Well, good-bye," said Jack Heathcote, as he left the canteen and jumped on his horse, which was tied up outside.

Charlie stood for a second or two watching his friend ride away.

"A happy New Year! Well, I shall have it if money can make one happy.

That streak of luck you talk about has come in my way after all. I shall be able to clear out of the country as soon as I like. Honest men! Well, it don't do to be too honest," he said to himself.

Then he wondered what his old partner Jack Heathcote would have said if he had heard about the big diamond. Of course he would have said that he was right to stick to it, and would have been a fool if he had thrown away such a chance. He didn't feel quite certain about it though. Jack was rather a queer fellow in his way, and though he did not go in for preaching, had some very decided notions about right and wrong. He had half a mind to tell his old friend, with whom he had lived as a partner for years, and from whom he had hardly had a secret since he had known him, of this good luck and ask him to share in it, but on second thoughts he knew that he had better not do that.

Jack Heathcote had reined in his horse, some hundred yards from the canteen, to light his pipe, and Charlie for a second or two watched him, unable to make up his mind.

"No, by Jove, I won't ask him to have a share, and I won't ask him what he'd do if he were in my place. I know. Hi, Jack Heathcote, Jack.

Stop I say," he shouted at the top of his voice, as he ran up to his friend, waving his hat.

Jack saw him and waited for him to come up.

"Well, what's the matter?" he asked wondering, as he noticed a strangely excited look in his friend's face.

"There is something else you ought to have, Jack; it is this," Charlie said, and he took the big diamond from his pocket. "It's over three hundred carats, I should say, and about the best stone in the world.

Old David must have found it yesterday, for he had it on him when I pulled him out of the river. Take it to the camp and give it up, and let me be rid of it, for it's safe with you; and, Jack, don't think too badly of me because I have so nearly been a thief."

"Charlie, there's about ninety-nine men in a hundred who would think you a fool," Jack said as he took the diamond, and then gave his old friend's hand a grip. "I wonder who this thing belongs to now?"

"Don't know, don't care; not to me, anyhow; it's a niceish stone, ain't it?" he answered, and then the two friends parted, the one to startle the Diamond Fields by the tale of old David Miller's luck, and, as a good many men thought, of Charlie Lumsden's egregious folly, and the other to work with very ordinary luck as a digger at Moonlight Rush.

Story 6.

A DEAR LESSON.

Some years ago every one on the Diamond Fields had heard of Mr Smythe's parcel of diamonds. Buyers, brokers, and diggers were constantly talking of that wonderful collection of gems. No one had ever seen it, and some persons refused to believe in it. Smythe would not be such a fool, they said, as to keep a lot of money locked up in diamonds. But those who knew most about Smythe believed in his diamonds; in fact, some men knew of stones which he had added to his collection. In this case rumour had exaggerated wonderfully little; for, as a matter of fact, Mr Smythe's parcel existed, and was little less valuable than it was reported to be. For some years the price of diamonds had been low, and Smythe had determined to hold; but he did not keep ordinary stuff, only picked stones of extraordinary quality. Whenever he bought a parcel, he would select any perfect stone there might be in it, and ship the rest.

It was his opinion that diamonds would go up, and that he would realise a great profit when he brought his wonderful parcel home. In the mean time he could afford to be out of his money; for he was a fairly prosperous man, as he had some claims in the mine that brought him in a good deal, and had done very well diamond buying and digging. Though Mr Smythe was a very good man of business, he was in his private life by no means free from little weaknesses, and they were not all of them amiable ones. It was harmless, if not commendable, for him to be very careful of his get-up and appearance, and to dress with as much care on the South African Diamond Fields as he would have done in Pall Mall. No one would have any right to blame him for dyeing his twisted moustache black, and making a very game struggle against the ravages of time; nor did he hurt any one by his habit of continually bragging and boasting of the position he held and the people he knew 'at home'--for this is a weakness common to many worthy and respectable dwellers in the distant parts of our empire. But he had one failing which was rather mischievous: although he was by no means a young man--for he was nearer fifty than forty--he was as vain as a girl, or rather as a vain man, and he was convinced that he was so attractive and fascinating that the other s.e.x found him irresistible. He loved to pose in the character of a Don Juan, and though his past successes were his favourite topic of conversation, he took care to let it be known that, if he cared, he could continue these little histories up to the present time. In fact, he had gained the reputation of being a man very dangerous to the domestic peace of his neighbours, and he took no little pride and pleasure in having such a reputation, and was careful to maintain it, even sometimes by rather unjustly damaging the fair fame of some of the ladies who had the privilege of his friendship.

It was his custom every year to vary the monotony of Diamond-Field life by making a little visit to the coast; and, from the hints and suggestions he would give when he came back, it would seem that when on his travels he was always on the watch for an opportunity to get up the flirtations he delighted in carrying on. It was on one of those trips that he became acquainted with Captain and Mrs Hamilton. Captain Hamilton was supposed to have lately sold out of the army, and, from what he said, he seemed to be possessed of a nice little capital, which he hoped to double in some colonial venture. He didn't care what he went in for--farming, diamond-mining, gold-digging. He didn't care much what it was, so long as it paid. Soldiering, he said, was a bad game for a married man, and he intended to double his capital before he went home; for England was no country for a man to live in who had not some thousands a year. Mr Smythe did not at first take very kindly to the Captain, who seemed a dullish, heavy sort of man, and cared to talk about very little besides betting and sport. But Mrs Hamilton quite made up for any defects in her husband. She was an extremely pretty young woman, so young-looking that she might have been hardly out of her teens, with a half-mischievous, half-demure manner, which our friend found very fascinating; and it is needless to say that he came to the conclusion that she had fallen in love with him; for it was his idiosyncrasy to believe that he was irresistible with all women.

Certainly she was a woman whom any man might fall in love with--a brown-haired, blue-eyed little thing, with a delightfully neat little figure, and always becomingly dressed. "Begad, she's a devilish nice little woman! I must persuade them to come up to Kimberley. Hamilton would do well there, though he's a stupid oaf a fellow," said Mr Smythe to himself, as he gave his moustache a twist, looking at himself in the gla.s.s, and putting on a Mephistophelean grin on which he prided himself.

Accordingly he suggested it to Hamilton that he had better make his home on the Diamond Fields, as it was the best place for a man of energy and capital. Captain Hamilton at once fell into the trap which this artful schemer had laid for him. "Dare say it was as good a place to go to as any other," said he. It seemed to him it was a beastly country; while Mrs Hamilton was so enthusiastic in persuading her husband, and so anxious to go to the Fields, that Mr Smythe put the most flattering inference on her support.

So it came about that Captain and Mrs Hamilton were Mr Smythe's fellow-pa.s.sengers from Capetown to the Diamond Fields, and, more or less under his auspices, settled amongst the queer community who toil for wealth in that land of dust and diamonds. They took one of those little iron houses in one of the princ.i.p.al streets in Kimberley, in which at that time the most prosperous citizens sweltered in the summer and shivered in the winter. From their first arrival, we all took a good deal of interest in the Hamiltons. It was never Mr Smythe's habit to be over-careful not to compromise the ladies he admired; and there was from the first a little scandal about Mrs Hamilton, and a good many stories told about her. Captain Hamilton became a very interesting person, when the fact that he was possessed of some little capital which he wished to invest was well-known, and a good many plans were made for his safely investing it. There was little Mo Abrahams, who came up to him, and told him how a few thousands would turn the Victory Mine, lately known as Fools Rush, into one of the grandest mining properties in the world; and the Captain seemed to be much struck with the advantages of the speculation, and thanked Mo for giving him such a chance; but he did not settle to go in for it at once, though he freely admitted that, in Mo's words, nothing could be fairer between man and man than the terms suggested. "We must have another talk over it," he said; and Mo went off rejoicing. After Mo went away, Bill Bowker, that fine specimen of the rugged honest digger and pioneer of the Fields, came up to the Captain, and, with much bad language, which it was his rugged honest custom to use, asked him what that little Jew wanted.

"Excuse me, sir," he said, "but he be going to let you in with that swindling mine of his. The place was salted before they washed up; and I know where they first got the diamonds they found there. I don't like to see a gentleman like you let in. Now, what you want to go in for is digging in a established mine, not for a wild-cat speculation;" and the rugged honest one went on to urge upon the Captain the advantage of investing his money in some claims that were in that portion of the Du Toits Pan Mine, which had somehow gained the name of the graveyard, on account of so many persons having buried their fortunes there. Captain Hamilton was very much obliged to his kind friend, though he said that he refused to believe that Mo was not _bona fide_; "over sanguine, perhaps, but means well," he said; "still, I think that what you mention would just suit me. We must have another talk about it." Thus the Captain for some time did not settle how he would embark his fortune, but treated with every one who came to him, almost always entertaining the highest opinion of the suggestions made to him. In the mean time, the owners of valuable mining properties were constant in paying him the greatest attention, and he was asked to share so many small bottles of champagne that the bar-keepers looked upon him as a perfect G.o.dsend, and dated the revival of prosperity on the Fields from his arrival. As the Captain had a good deal of spare time on his hands, he was able to indulge in some of the pastimes in which he excelled. After some little time he was recognised as a very fine billiard-player. At first there were one or two young men who thought they could beat him, and it was a costly mistake for them; but the Captain explained he was only just getting back his form, and so accounted for the great improvement which could be noticed in his play, after he had got a little money on. At cards he was very lucky: a fortunate whist-player, a good ecarte-player, while he had wonderfully good luck, when several times he was persuaded, protesting that it was not at all in his line, to sit down to a game of poker. However, though his card and billiard playing did not lighten his purse, they compelled him to neglect his wife more than was wise, perhaps. Night after night, while Hamilton was at the club, the dangerous Mr Smythe would be sitting smoking cigarettes in Jenny Hamilton's little sitting-room.

Perhaps, though people did talk a good deal, there was not much harm in it; and Jenny Hamilton, though she did look so young, was, perhaps, pretty well able to take care of herself. Still, she became far more confidential with her friend Mr Smythe than it was wise for a young woman to be with such a very fascinating man. Certainly, when she told him all her grievances against her husband--how he neglected her, and was always at billiards or cards, leaving her all by herself, how he drank too much, and was generally rather a disappointment--she was taking a course which seemed rather indiscreet. But it was not only about her own affairs she would talk; she took the greatest interest in all he had to say about himself, and would listen to his stories of English society with never-failing interest. She would encourage him to read poetry to her, for, though his education had been rather commercial than cla.s.sical, he fancied that he could read well. "Ah," she would say, "how nice it is to be fond of poetry and art! Now, Jack cares for nothing but billiards, cards, sport, and drink; not even for me, I am afraid." Then she would change the conversation, and talk about Smythe's affairs. "Was it true," she would ask, "that he had such a splendid collection of diamonds? She was so fond of seeing them.

Couldn't he show them to her?" Smythe made rather a favour of this, for he said that no one had ever seen his diamonds! still, of course, he would show them to Mrs Hamilton, only she must come down to the office to see them. Mrs Hamilton didn't altogether like that; she would sooner he brought the diamonds up to the house. However, she said she was determined to see them, and she would constantly return to this subject. On one occasion, when Mr Smythe called, he found Hamilton at home instead of at the club, and so he did the next time after that; and, rather to his annoyance, he found the Captain had taken to stop at home. He used usually to sit in the verandah, smoking, paying very little heed to his wife or her friend. Still, Mr Smythe found him a good deal in the way, and began to look upon his presence in his own house as little less than an intrusion.

"_Do_ you know that Jack is fearfully jealous of you?" said pretty Mrs Hamilton to him one evening. "Some one has said something to him, and since then he has never left me out of his sight."

"That's very stupid of him!" said Mr Smythe.

"Yes, it is very silly," she said; "but I'm afraid you're a dreadful man! Anyhow, Jack thinks you are, for he has taken to stop at home all day looking after me."

"When is he going to get something to do? If he had more work and less drink he wouldn't take fancies into his head."

"I don't know," she answered. "I'm afraid he will go away to some other place. Won't that be wretched?" she said.

"Wretched, my dear! of course it will," said Mr Smythe; and he would have said a good deal more, only the smoke of his cigarette made Jenny choke; and then her husband came into the room, scowled at his guest, helped himself to some whiskey, and left it again.

"By the by," said Jenny, when he had gone, "I've never seen those diamonds: now, you know, you promised I should."

"You must come to the office and see them," he said. "I don't like to bring them up here, unless he's out, for I don't like any one to see them but you."

"Yes, I know that it's a great privilege for me to see them, though I don't know what harm it can do for a poor little woman like me to see diamonds she can't hope ever to have; you must bring them up here, and show them to me when he's out of the room."

"No, I can't do that; he is always in and out. You must come to the office."

"You wretch," she said, "you want me to go to your office by myself, but I won't; it wouldn't do at all. Besides, do you know, he never lets me out of his sight for a minute; he hardly ever sleeps for long, and he gets so fearfully violent, I think it's the whiskey he takes. Do you know, the other day I thought he would strike me."

Mr Smythe was a good deal impressed with this information, and he looked with no little awe at the culprit, who fidgeted in and out of the room with no particular object. Though he despised the man, he felt a good deal afraid of him. "By Jove," he thought to himself, "suppose he took a fancy to go for me--the brute looks pretty strong!"

"If I was you," he said, "I'd give him a strong sleeping draught; he is a misery to himself and every one else, like this."

"I only wish I could," she said. "He gets more nervous and cross every evening; but he won't take anything."

"Well, I'd make him; I'd put a dose into his whiskey-and-water, which would send him off fast enough. I'd tell you what to give."