We heard that afternoon that Darby--immediately after receiving payment for his share in our claim--had started off to Melbourne, with the intention of returning to England. He had still retained enough pride of character, or vanity, or whatever it might be called, to dread the ridicule, that he knew must await him, should Oakes tell us the story of that Bendigo nugget. His defection was a fortunate circumstance for us: as it led to our procuring, in his place, a partner capable of performing a full share of the toil we had before us. On that day Fortune appeared determined to favour us. Before night we had disposed of the two shares, abandoned by the "swipers," to a couple of first-class miners. Next morning we all went to work with a will. Even George and the apothecary--stimulated by the example of the others--did their best to imitate it. This, however, was on their part only a spasmodic effort. Before many days had elapsed, the toil proved too great for their powers of endurance; and each entered into an agreement with a "working partner," who was to have one-half of their gold in return for the labour of getting it out for them. After this arrangement had been made, we could count on a proper working company; and our progress in the _exploitation_ of the mine was, thenceforth, both regular and rapid. We had not been long engaged upon the claim, when we discovered that it _was_ "on the line," and our toil was lightened by the golden prospects thus predicated. I was struck with the interest which Oakes appeared to feel in the result. He would scarce take time, either for eating or sleeping, and, I believe, he would have continued to toil twenty-two hours, out of the twenty-four, had we allowed him! When the claim was at length worked out, and the gold divided, Oakes came to me, and paid back the fifty pounds I had advanced towards the purchase of his share.