Part 71 (1/2)

The goldsmith sat at his bench; his spectacles on his nose, his ap.r.o.n round the place where his waist should have been, and in his hands the implements of his craft. n.o.body had told him, he had hardly told himself, that it was for the last time that he was sitting within the four boarded walls where he had spent so many hours during the last four years, at the bench which bore on every square inch of its surface the marks of his labour. But Tresco knew, as did also Jake Ruggles and the Prospector who watched him, that the end of his labours had come.

The goldsmith's thoughts were in keeping with his work: he was about to make a wedding-ring, and his speech was of Love.

First, he took a little ingot of pure gold, and, laying it on the smooth surface of what looked like an upturned, handleless flat-iron, he wrought upon the precious, yellow metal with a hammer, till it was shaped like a badly-made rod.

This he handed over to Jake, who put it on the wire ”devil” and strove with blow-pipe and flame to bring it to a red heat.

”Woman,” said Benjamin, ”Woman is like a beautiful scene, or the perfume of a delicate rose--every man loves her, be he prince or pauper, priest or murderer. To labour for Woman is the sweetest work of Man--that's why a goldsmith is in love with his craft. Think of all the pretty creatures I have made happy with my taste and skill. While there are women there must be goldsmiths, Jake!”

”What?” asked the apprentice, taking his lips from the stem of the blow-pipe, and looking at his master.

”You're sure this is the correct size?” Tresco held an old-fas.h.i.+oned ring between his forefinger and thumb, and tested with the point of a burnisher the setting of the rubies in it.

”Yes,” replied the shock-headed youth. ”I seen her take it orf her finger, when the toff bought her engagement-ring. I was 'all there,'

don't you make no mistake. 'Leave this,' I said, looking at the rubies; 'the settin' is a bit shaky,' I says. 'Allow me to fix it,' I says. An'

there you are with a pattern. Savee?”

Benjamin laughed.

”Mind you make it real good,” said the Prospector, who stood, watching the operation. ”Person'lly, I'd say put a good big diamond in the centre.”

”'Twouldn't do,” replied the goldsmith. ”Unfortunately, Custom says wedding-rings must be plain, so plain it must be.”

”Then let it be pure,” said the Prospector. ”Anyway it'll bring good luck.”

He had divided his lucky nugget, the same that he had refused to sell when he made the goldsmith's acquaintance and sold the first gold from Bush Robin Creek, and while he had retained one half of this talisman, out of the other half Tresco was fas.h.i.+oning a wedding-ring for Scarlett.

The red-hot piece of gold had been cooled suddenly by being cast into the ”pickle,” and was now subjected to another severe hammering, after which it was drawn, by means of a gigantic pair of tongs fixed to the windla.s.s of a bench by a long leather strap through graduated holes in a strong steel plate. Next, it was branded, by means of certain steel punches, with the goldsmith's private marks, and afterwards it was bent with pliers into a circle, and its clear-cut ends were soldered together under the blow-pipe.

Benjamin peered over the tops of his gla.s.ses at the Prospector. ”I owe you luck, fortune, and freedom,” he said, ”and yet, Bill, your power to create happiness is distinctly limited.”

”I dessay,” replied the Prospector. ”But what'd you have me do? Would you ask me to make you into a gold-plated angel with a pair o' patent wings, twelve foot in the spread? It'd save me a deal o' trouble if you could fly away from the police an' Timber Town.”

”I wasn't thinking of the police. I was thinking of adorable, elusive Woman. I ought to be making my own wedding-ring: instead of that I must roll my bluey and be footing it over the mountains before to-morrow morning. I'm turned into a perfect Wandering Jew.”

”You should be darn glad I give you the opportunity.”

”I leave behind the loveliest fallen angel you ever set eyes on.”

”You'll find plenty more o' that sort where you're goin'.”

”Perhaps: but not one of 'em the prospective Mrs. T. Ah, well, all through life my hopes of domestic bliss have invariably been blighted; but the golden key of wealth will unlock the hardest woman's heart. When I have leisure and freedom from worry, I'll see what can be done. In the meanwhile, Jake, go and fetch some beer.” He took a s.h.i.+lling from his pocket, and gave it to the apprentice. ”Make tracks,” he said, ”or my sorrow will have fled before I've had time to drown it.”

Jake disappeared, as if shot from a cannon, and his master placed the roughly-formed ring on a steel mandril.

”But this,” said the goldsmith, tapping the ring skilfully with a diminutive hammer, ”this is for the finger of an angel. Just think, Bill, what it would be to be spliced to a creature so good that it'd be like being chained to a scripture saint for the rest of your life.”

”I guess I'd be on the wallaby in a fortnight,” said the Prospector.