"They have to pay through the nose for all they get, but bishops and landlords get all their good things chucked in gratuitous. Of course a bishop's more toney, but a publican sees more of life--honours, meaning good tucker and liquor, divided."

Tresco attacked the juicy steak: his satisfaction finding expression in murmurs of approval. He finished the stout with as much relish as if it had been the richest wine; and then Gentle Annie took from the cupboard two gla.s.s dishes, the one half-filled with luscious red plums swimming in their own juice, the other containing junket.

Tresco had almost forgotten the taste of such food. While he was eating it Gentle Annie made some tea.

"Is this the way you treat the toffs, when they come to see you?"

"Toffs? You're the greatest toff that has come to see me, so far."

"I shall come again."

"Do you know there's a reward offered for you?"

"How much?"

"Twenty pounds."

"Is that all? I'll give it you, my dear."

From his dirty rags he pulled out a small linen bag, from which he emptied upon a clean plate a little pile of nuggets.

Gentle Annie was lost in wonderment. Her eyes glistened, and she turned the pieces of gold over with her finger covetously.

"These should go close on 4 to the ounce," remarked the goldsmith, as he separated with the blade of a table-knife a portion of the gold equal to what he guessed to be five ounces, and the remainder he replaced in the bag.

"That's for you," he said, pushing the plate towards her.

Gentle Annie gleefully took the gold in her hands.

"You generous old party!" she exclaimed. "I know when I am well off."

They now drank tea out of dainty cups, and Benjamin took a pipe and tobacco from his pocket.

"I really must have a smoke to settle my dinner," he said.

"Of course," said she; "it was only my fun. I smoke myself." Taking a packet from the mantelpiece, she lighted a cigarette, which she handed to Tresco, when a low knock was heard at the door.

In a moment she had blown out the light, and led the erring goldsmith to her inner room, where he stood, apprehensive but alert. From his belt he drew a knife, and then he furtively examined the fastenings of the muslin-draped window.

He heard his hostess open the door and speak to her visitor, who replied in a deep voice, at some length. But, presently, the door closed, the steps of the visitor were heard departing, and Gentle Annie softly entered the room.

"You're quite safe," she said.

"Who was it?"

"Only a friend of mine. He's gone. He won't call again to-night."

CHAPTER XXIX.

Amiria Plays Her Highest Card in the Game of Love.

Scarlett was bound for the gold-fields. He bestrode a tall chestnut mare, with white "socks." In the cool of the morning, with the dew sparkling on the hedges and the birds twittering in the orchards, he rode out of Timber Town.

He crossed the ford where he had rescued Rachel from the clutches of the digger, and had turned into the gorge which led through the foot-hills when he came suddenly upon Amiria, waiting for him, with her horse standing across the road.

She was dressed in a perfectly-fitting habit of dark blue cloth, a hard felt hat, and in her hand she carried a dainty whip; but her feet were bare, and one pretty toe protruded from the stirrup.

"I'm hanged!" exclaimed Jack. "Who ever expected to see you here, at this time of the morning?"

The Maori girl laughed. "I knew you were going to-day--Rose Summerhayes told me. So I said to myself, 'I'll go to the diggings too; I'll see how they get this gold.' Perhaps I may find some myself. Is it far?"

"About fifty miles. But I can't take you to the field."

"Why not? I shan't steal anything."

Scarlett could not forbear a smile. "I don't mean that," he said. "I was thinking what the fellows would say."

Amiria's merry laugh rang through the narrow valley. "Oh, you _Pakeha_ people, how funny you are--always troubled by what others may think about you, always bothering about the day after to-morrow. Yet I think it's all put on: you do just the same things as the Maori. I give it up.

I can't guess it. Come on; see if your horse can trot mine."

She flicked her big bay that she was riding, and started off at a swinging pace. And so, Scarlett riding on the soft turf on one side of the road and Amiria on the other, they raced till they came to the next ford.

"I beat!" cried the Maori girl, her brown cheeks glowing with excitement.

The horses were given a mouthful of water, and then they splashed through the shallows; their iron shoes clanking on the boulders as dry land was reached.

"You are very rich, aren't you?" Amiria asked, as they walked their horses side by side.

"What do you mean by rich?"

"Oh, you have lots of gold, money, everything you want."

"Not by any means."

"You must be very greedy, then. They tell me you have thousands of pounds in the bank, a big house which you are building, and a fine girl."

"A girl?"

"Yes, Rahera Varnhagen. Isn't she a fine girl?"

"Rachel Varnhagen!"

"Yes. I was in the old man's store yesterday, buying things for the _pa_, and he told me he had given his girl to you."

Jack opened his eyes in astonishment. He wondered who was the liar, the Jew or the Maori girl, but all he said was, "Well, I'm hanged!"