Australia -- Fiction; Mineral industries -- Australia -- Fiction
He was a man of about medium height, rather thin than otherwise, with a
long, narrow-looking head and boldly cut features--clean shaved save for
a frill of white hair which grew on his throat up the sides of his head
to his ears, and which gave him rather a peculiar appearance, as if he
had his jaw bandaged up. His eyes were grey and shrewd-looking, his lips
were firmly compressed--in fact, the whole appearance of his face was
obstinate--the face of a man who would stick to his opinions whatever
anyone else might say to the contrary. He was in a rough miner’s dress,
all splashed with clay, and as he came up to the gate Madame could see
he was holding something in his hand.
‘D’ye no ken what yon may be?’ he said, a smile relaxing his grim
features as he held up a rather large nugget; ‘’tis the third yin this
week!’
Madame Midas took the nugget from him and balanced it carefully in her
hand, with a thoughtful look in her face, as if she was making a mental
calculation.
‘About twenty to twenty-five ounces, I should say,’ she observed in
her soft low voice; ‘the last we had was fifteen, and the one before
twenty--looks promising for the gutter, doesn’t it?’
‘Well, I’ll no say but what it micht mean a deal mair,’ replied
McIntosh, with characteristic Scotch caution, as he followed Madame into
the house; ‘it’s no a verra bad sign, onyhow; I winna say but what we
micht be near the Devil’s Lead.’
‘And if we are?’ said Madame, turning with a smile.
‘Weel, mem, ye’ll have mair siller nor ye’ll ken what to dae wi’, an’
‘tis to be hoped ye’ll no be making a fool of yersel.’
Madame laughed--she was used to McIntosh’s plain speaking, and it in no
wise offended her. In fact, she preferred it very much more than being
flattered, as people’s blame is always genuine, their praise rarely so.
At all events she was not displeased, and looked after him with a smile
in her dark eyes as he disappeared into the back kitchen to make himself
decent for tea. Madame herself sat down in an arm-chair in the bow
window, and watched Selina preparing the meal.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account