Part 3 (1/2)

And himself--good-tempered; lazy, since he had no need to work; not naturally gifted mentally, and the little he had, barely stirred by the short course of schooling which had been deemed sufficient for so worldly-well-endowed a boy; tall, loose-limbed, easy going and easily led, Peter was the object of much speculation among marriageably inclined maiden hearts, and had set his own where it was not wanted.

”Ouaie,” continued Tom, ”an' if I'd join him in the loan the money'd all come to me when he'd done with it.”

”Aw!... Money isn't everything.... Can't get all you want sometimes when you've got all money you want.”

”G'zammin, Peter! You're as crazy 'bout that la.s.s as th' old un is 'bout his mines. Why don't ye ask her and ha' done with it?”

”Aw--yes. Well.... You see.... I'm makin' up to her gradual like, and in time----”

And Bernel in the hole dug his elbow facetiously into Nance's side.

”Mon Gyu! To think of a slip of a thing like our Nance making a great big fellow like you as fool-soft as a bit of tallow!” and Tom stared at him in amazement. ”Why, I've licked her scores of times, and I used to lift her up by the hair of her head.”

”I'd ha' knocked your head right off, Tom Hamon, if I'd been there.

Right off--yes, an' b.u.mped it on the ground.”

”No, you wouldn't. 'Cause, in the first place, you couldn't, and in the second place you wouldn't have looked at her then. She was no more to look at than a bit of a rabbit, slipping about, scared-like, with her big eyes all round her.”

”Great rough bull of a chap you was, Tom. Ought to had more lickings when you was young.”

”Aw!” said Tom.

”Join him?” asked Peter after a pause.

”No, I won't, an' he's no right to ask it, an' he knows it. Them dirty mines may pay an' they may not, but the farm's a safe thing an' I'll stick to it.”

”Maybe new capt'n'll make things go better. That's him, I'm thinking, just got ash.o.r.e from brig without breaking his legs,” nodding towards the wooden landing-stage on the other side of the gulf. For landing at Port Gorey was at times a matter requiring both nerve and muscle.

A man, however, had just leaped ash.o.r.e from the brig, and was now standing looking somewhat anxiously after the landing of his baggage, which consisted of a wooden chest and an old carpet-bag.

When at last it stood safely on the platform, he cast a comprehensive look at his surroundings and then turned to the group of men who had come down to watch the boat come in, and four pairs of eyes on the opposite side of the gulf watched him curiously, with little thought of the tremendous part he was to play in all their lives.

”Where's he stop?” asked Peter.

”Our house.”

”Nay!”

”Ouaie, I tell you. He's to stop at our house.”

”Why doesn't he go to Barracks?”

”Old Captain's there and they might not agree. Oh ouaie, he'll have his hands full, I'm thinking. And if he's not careful it's a crack on the head and a drop over the Coupee he'll be getting.”

”Ah!” said Peter Mauger.

”Come you along and see what kind of chap he is.”