and the same chuckle stretched the thin lips under his heavy moustache over his white teeth; "I shall be much obliged, you know. But if you should mention it, I can quit you by telling a good deal about your father. Yes, I knew Jack Fraser well—a good deal about Jack Fraser—and I could tell Gordon something too. So don't you mention my name, excepting Brisbane; and I don't want to quarrel, or have anything unpleasant."
"I don't want to interfere with you in any way," said Philip; and he turned away, humiliated, and with a sickening sensation of rage and insult, made powerless by those feelings which had grown from the ruins of baffled love and respect. He blushed to be ashamed of his own father. The feeling held him still, and he was silent now.
The determination which the companions ultimately arrived at was, that they would suddenly start for Queensleigh, and try their best to get a first chance there before the place became much known. There was a sort of compromise in this, just enough of chance in it. James Burlow had endeavoured to talk down the desire which the younger men had to engage in a more simply speculative plan, and his discretion soon ballasted their ideas. The next day they quietly made their preparations, and long before dawn on the following morning they had started, with all their traps packed in a small, strong cart, through the bush for Queensleigh. They reached the place on the 11th of January, 1855, and were in the best spirits when they pitched their tent on a slope, at the bottom of which ran the shallow, intermittent stream. The spot looked most likely; and they soon enjoyed the excitement of prospecting, with a small tin dish in hand, for the choice of a claim. James Burlow chose one, and the very next day they were at work. Only a few of the inevitable Chinamen, and not many diggers, were as yet there, and they had plenty of freedom in the choice. But every day several more diggers arrived; and two or three days afterwards, when sauntering back to the tent, Philip was surprised to find Brisbane accost them, asking, with an ill-concealed anxiety in his tone, "What luck! Where's your claim?"
"Ah! so you've tried a move," said William Burlow, laughing. "Well, it's pappy enough to work in; but it doesn't seem to wash out much." And they passed on.
William Burlow was right; and they all came gradually to confess the disappointment to themselves, if not openly to each other. It was a great disappointment. The move appeared to be a failure. They tested the place with hard and patient work; but the average yield was not only not improved, it had grown less. The spot seemed an unfortunate one, for not one single nugget, of even ordinary size, had they found; nor could they hear that others had. At last, when they had laboured three weeks thus, some one said the claim was a failure; and it was acknowledged so. The reaction was severe after their undue elation; but, though a sort of carelessness and discontent had come over them, they were not hopeless by any means. At least, they had plenty of speculation left. The seed sown at their last conference, at Bendigo, was not forgotten, but was cultured now; and it was proposed and voted, while they covered what they knew to be a weakness with much laughter and jeering, that "Lucky Phil." should try his hand and choose another claim. Philip chose another, much higher up the gully; and to work they went.
The spot that Philip selected was purely his own choice. It was just below where a considerable and sudden rise took place in the ground, over which, perhaps, ages and ages ago a torrent might have flowed; but it seemed to have little of the ordinary signs of likelihood to recommend it. It was a considerable distance from the tent, and a good way from any water wherein they could fix their cradle to wash the soil recovered. They divided the party for labour thus:—One sank the hole, and threw up the soil to be washed; one took the soil in a barrow and wheeled it down to the cradle, where the remaining two washed it and sought for the gold. On the first morning they went gaily enough to work, and each one lent a hand at opening the claim; then they divided the party, set up the cradle, and commenced in earnest. They did not get any gold at all the first day; but on the second and third they came upon a stratum of pipe clay, in which they found the ore. But it did not seem to be in greater quantity than they could find anywhere almost. Still, no one said so, and the work went on. On the fourth day it came to Philip's turn to work down in the hole; Gordon and William Burlow were stationed at the cradle; and James Burlow went between.
Philip felt a sort of thrill which he could not well define as he stepped in and began his work. His choice had not fructified as yet; but he was to put his own hand to it now; and whether it was hope he felt, or a sensation more akin to that with which a man watches the turn of the card at rouge-et-noir, he hardly ventured to ask himself, nor did he express it in the least. He worked patiently through the morning and on into the afternoon, sometimes simply delving and sometimes wielding a short