"You will see," Ben told us, "how a really big find is celebrated here. After months of depression when people begin to feel that the good days have gone forever, someone has a find like this and hope springs up."
I could see that there was a change in him. He too was deeply affected by this find. He had the gold fever as intensely as any of them.
Gervaise was in specially high spirits.
"Just think," he said. "It could have been us."
"If only it had," I sighed.
"If only ..." repeated Justin.
They were two words which seemed to be in my mind a great deal lately. Ben's confession had had a profound effect on me. I told myself I ought to get away. I felt unsure of myself.
Some of the men and women had begun to dance. Two of the men had brought violins with them and they were always in great demand. One of them had a very good singing voice.
It was a strange night. The light from the fires set a glow over the shacks endowing them with a mysterious quality they lacked by daylight.
Morwenna was of course not with us. She was not well enough and hourly we were expecting—and hoping—for the child to be bora. We never left her alone. Always one of us was within call, holding herself in readiness. Meg was on duty at this moment and her husband with her. He would fetch Mrs. Bowles immediately if there was any sign of the child.
I was seated on the grass, Justin and Gervaise with me.
Gervaise was talking enthusiastically of the find. I knew that his desire to go home and his need to find gold were grappling with each other. I do believe that had it not been for the debt he owed Uncle Peter he would have wanted to leave by now. As Ben had said, it was easier to make money at the card tables in London's Clubland than in the goldfields of Australia.
This find had probably made him change his view. "There must be more," he kept saying. "It is like that. If you find traces it must mean that there is more not far off. It could be anywhere under this ground. We are going to find it. I know we are."
"Soon, I hope," I said.
"I heard a rumor," said Justin, "that Ben Lansdon wants to buy land from James Morley. What do you think he plans to do? To graze sheep?"
Gervaise said: "He doesn't seem like a grazier to me."
"To open up another mine?"
"Why on Morley's land?"
"Who knows? Do you think he has come to the conclusion that the present one is worked out?"
"There have been poor yields for some time."
I thought: Yes, he has the gold fever as much as any of them. He will never give up any more than the others will.
I saw Ben among the crowd. With him were James Morley and Lizzie. Ben was talking animatedly to them. James was laughing and Lizzie smiling happily. She looked quite beautiful in the firelight with that lovely serene expression which seemed to indicate complete contentment.
They came over to us.
Ben took my hand and pressed it firmly.
"Well, what do you think of our jamboree?" he asked.
"Exciting," I said. "The township looks different in the fire- and starlight."
"It casts a rosy glow. I think One-Eye and Cassidy are very happy men tonight."
"We shall miss them," said Gervaise.
"Others will take their places, never fear."
"And there will be more disappointments," said James Morley. "I reckon it would do most of them more good to get hold of a piece of land and raise sheep and cattle."
"They might not all have your success, James," said Ben.
"They would if they worked. All this dig ... dig .. . dig and perhaps there is just nothing at the end of it. It's making a mess of good grazing land."
"You have one aim in mind, James," said Ben with a laugh. "Return to the land."
"Yes, and give up this gimcrack notion. Gold there might be ... but there is not enough to go round ... and I say leave it be."
"Yours certainly seems to be a happier way of life," I said.
"You see before you one of the most successful graziers in Victoria," said Ben. "Not all are so successful. And show me two happier men tonight than One-Eye and Cassidy."
"They are happy," I said, "because they are getting away from it."
"But, darling," put in Gervaise, "think of the joy of tilting your pan and seeing it there ... and realizing that you have stumbled on it at last."
"Yes," I told him, "I can imagine how they feel. But how often does it happen?"
"Angelet is homesick," said Gervaise.
"Aren't we all?" asked Ben.
James Morley said, "Well, I'm not. I like to see my grassland. I like to see my sheep and my cattle. I wouldn't want any of my land disturbed ... and that's a plain fact."
"Not even if there were nuggets the size of your fists underneath it?" asked Gervaise.
"You'd have to show 'em to me first before I'd have one square foot of my land disturbed."
"How would you know unless you looked?" I asked.