Books: Madame Midas
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Selina Jane Sprotts, who now acted as servant to Mrs Villiers, was
rather an oddity in her way. She had been Madame's nurse, and had
followed her up to Ballarat, with the determination of never leaving
her. Selina was a spinster, as her hand had never been sought in
marriage, and her personal appearance was certainly not very
fascinating. Tall and gaunt, she was like a problem from Euclid, all
angles, and the small quantity of grey hair she possessed was
screwed into a hard lump at the back of her head. Her face was
reddish in colour, and her mouth prim and pursed up, as if she was
afraid of saying too much, which she need not have been, as she
rarely spoke, and was as economical of her words as she was of
everything else. She was much given to quoting proverbs, and hurled
these prepared little pieces of wisdom on every side like pellets
out of a pop-gun. Conversation which consists mainly of proverbs is
rarely exhilarating; consequently Miss Sprotts was not troubled to
talk much, either by Madame or McIntosh.
Miss Sprotts moved noiselessly about the small room, in a
wonderfully dextrous manner considering her height, and, after
laying the table, placed the teapot on the hob to 'draw', thereby
disturbing a cat and a dog who were lying in front of the fire--for
there was a fire in the room in spite of the heat of the day, Selina
choosing to consider that the house was damp. She told Madame she
knew it was damp because her bones ached, and as she was mostly
bones she certainly had a good opportunity of judging.
Annoyed at being disturbed by Miss Sprotts, the dog resigned his
comfortable place with a plaintive growl, but the cat, of a more
irritable temperament, set up and made a sudden scratch at her hand,
drawing blood therefrom.
'Animals,' observed Selina, grimly, 'should keep their place;' and
she promptly gave the cat a slap on the side of the head, which sent
him over to Madame's feet, with an angry spit. Madame picked him up
and soothed his ruffled feelings so successfully, that he curled
himself up on her lap and went to sleep.
By-and-bye Archie, who had been making a great splashing in the back
premises, came in looking clean and fresh, with a more obstinate
look about his face than ever. Madame went to the tea-table and sat
down, for she always had her meals with them, a fact of which they
were very proud, and they always treated her with intense respect,
though every now and then they were inclined to domineer. Archie,
having seen that the food on the table was worth thanking God for,
asked a blessing in a peremptory sort of manner, as if he thought
Heaven required a deal of pressing to make it attentive. Then they
commenced to eat in silence, for none of the party were very much
given to speech, and no sound was heard save the rattling of the
cups and saucers and the steady ticking of the clock. The window was
open, and a faint breeze came in--cool and fragrant with the scent
of the forest, and perfumed with the peach-like odour of the gorse
blossoms. There was a subdued twilight through all the room, for the
night was coming on, and the gleam of the flickering flames of the
fire danced gaily against the roof and exaggerated all objects to an
immense size. At last Archie pushed back his chair to show that he
had finished, and prepared to talk.
'I dinna see ony new bodies coming,' he said, looking at his
mistress. 'They, feckless things, that left were better than none,
though they should hae been skelped for their idleness.'
'You have written to Slivers?' said Madame, raising her eyes.
'That wudden-legged body,' retorted McIntosh. 'Deed and I have, but
the auld tyke hasna done onything to getting me what I want. Weel,
weel,' in a resigned sort of a manner, 'we micht be waur off than we
are, an' wha kens but what Providence will send us men by-and-bye?'
Selina looked up at this, saw her opportunity, and let slip an
appropriate proverb.
'If we go by by-and-bye lane,' she said sharply, 'we come to the
gate of never.'
This being undeniable, no one gave her the pleasure of contradicting
her, for Archie knew it was impossible to argue with Selina, so
handy was she with her proverbial wisdom--a kind of domestic Tupper,
whose philosophy was of the most irritating and unanswerable kind.
He did the wisest thing he could under the circumstances, and
started a new subject.
'I say yon the day.'
'Yon' in this case meant Mr Villiers, whose name was tabooed in the
house, and was always spoken of in a half-hinting kind of way. As
both her servants knew all about her unhappy life, Madame did not
scruple to talk to them.
'How was he looking?' she asked, smoothing the crumbs off her dress.
'Brawly,' replied Archie, rising; 'he lost money on that Moscow
mine, but he made a fine haul owre the Queen o' Hearts claim.'
'The wicked,' observed Selina, 'flourish like a green bay tree.'
'Ou, ay,' retorted McIntosh, drily; 'we ken a' aboot that, Selina--
auld Hornie looks after his ain.'
'I think he leads a very hand-to-mouth existence,' said Madame,
calmly; 'however rich he may become, he will always be poor, because
he never was a provident man.'
'He's comin' tae see ye, mem,' said Archie, grimly, lighting his
pipe.
Madame rose to her feet and walked to the window.
'He's done that before,' she said, complacently; 'the result was not
satisfactory.'
'Continual dropping wears away a stone,' said Selina, who was now
clearing away.
'But not iron,' replied Madame, placidly; 'I don't think his
persistence will gain anything.'
Archie smiled grimly, and then went outside to smoke his pipe, while
Madame sat down by the open window and looked out at the fast-fading
landscape.
Her thoughts were not pleasant. She had hoped to cut herself off
from all the bitterness and sorrow of her past life, but this
husband of hers, like an unquiet spirit, came to trouble her and
remind her of a time she would willingly have forgotten. She looked
calm and quiet enough sitting there with her placid face and smooth
brow; but this woman was like a slumbering volcano, and her passions
were all the more dangerous from being kept in check.
A bat flew high up in the air across the clear glow of the sky,
disappearing into the adjacent bush, and Madame, stretching out her
hand, idly plucked a fresh, dewy rose off the tree which grew round
the window.
'If I could only get rid of him,' she thought, toying with the
flower; 'but it is impossible. I can't do that without money, and
money I never will have till I find that lead. I must bribe him, I
suppose. Oh, why can't he leave me alone now? Surely he has ruined
my life sufficiently in the past to let me have a few years, if not
of pleasure, at least of forgetfulness.' And with a petulant gesture
she hurled the rose out of the window, where it struck Archie a soft
and fragrant blow on the cheek.
'Yes,' said Madame to herself, as she pulled down the window, 'I
must get rid of him, and if bribery won't do--there are other
means.'
CHAPTER IV
THE GOOD SAMARITAN
Is there anyone nowadays who reads Cowper--that charming, domestic
poet who wrote 'The Task', and invested even furniture with the
glamour of poesy? Alas! to many people Cowper is merely a name, or
is known only as the author of the delightfully quaint ballad of
John Gilpin. Yet he was undoubtedly the Poet Laureate of
domesticity, and every householder should possess a bust or picture
of him--placed, not amid the frigid splendours of the drawing room,
but occupying the place of honour in his own particular den, where
everything is old-fashioned, cheery, and sanctified by long usage.
No one wrote so pleasantly about the pleasures of a comfortable room
as Cowper. And was he not right to do so? After all, every hearth is
the altar of the family, whereon the sacred fire should be kept
constantly burning, waxing and waning with the seasons, but never be
permitted to die out altogether. Miss Sprotts, as before mentioned,
was much in favour of a constant fire, because of the alleged
dampness of the house, and Madame Midas did not by any means object,
as she was a perfect salamander for heat. Hence, when the outward
door was closed, the faded red curtains of the window drawn, and the
newly replenished fire blazed brightly in the wide fireplace, the
room was one which even Cowper--sybarite in home comforts as he was-
-would have contemplated with delight.
Madame Midas was seated now at the small table in the centre of the
room, poring over a bewildering array of figures, and the soft glow
of the lamp touched her smooth hair and white dress with a subdued
light.
Archie sat by the fire, half asleep, and there was a dead silence in
the room, only broken by the rapid scratching of Madame's pen or the
click of Selina's needles. At last Mrs Villiers, with a sigh of
relief, laid down her pen, put all her papers together, and tied
them neatly with a bit of string.
'I'm afraid I'll have to get a clerk, Archie,' she said, as she put
the papers away, 'the office work is getting too much for me.'
''Deed, mem, and 'tis that same I was thinkin' o',' returned Mr
McIntosh, sitting bolt upright in his chair, lest the imputation of
having been asleep should be brought against him. 'It's ill wark
seein' ye spoilin' your bonny eyes owre sic a muckle lot o' figures
as ye hae there.'
'Someone must do it,' said Madame, resuming her seat at the table.
'Then why not get a body that can dae it?' retorted Archie; 'not but
what ye canna figure yersel', mem, but really ye need a rest, and if
I hear of onyone in toun wha we can trust I'll bring him here next
week.'
'I don't see why you shouldn't,' said Madame, musingly; 'the mine is
fairly under way now, and if things go on as they are doing, I must
have someone to assist me.'
At this moment a knock came to the front door, which caused Selina
to drop her work with a sudden start, and rise to her feet.
'Not you, Selina,' said Madame, in a quiet voice; 'let Archie go; it
may be some tramp.'
''Deed no, mem,' replied Archie, obstinately, as he arose from his
seat; ''tis verra likely a man fra the warks saying he wants to go.
There's mair talk nor sense aboot them, I'm thinkin'--the yattering
parrots.'
Selina resumed her knitting in a most phlegmatic manner, but Madame
listened intently, for she was always haunted by a secret dread of
her husband breaking in on her, and it was partly on this account
that McIntosh stayed in the house. She heard a murmur of voices, and
then Archie returned with two men, who entered the room and stood
before Madame in the light of the lamp.
''Tis two men fra that wudden-legged gowk o' a Slivers,' said
Archie, respectfully. 'Ain o' them has a wee bit letter for ye'--
turning to receive same from the foremost man.
The man, however, did not take notice of Archie's gesture, but
walking forward to Madame, laid the letter down before her. As he
did so, she caught sight of the delicacy of his hands, and looked up
suddenly with a piercing gaze. He bore the scrutiny coolly, and took
a chair in silence, his companion doing the same, while Madame
opened the letter and read Slivers' bad writing with a dexterity
only acquired by long practice. Having finished her perusal, she
looked up slowly.
'A broken-down gentleman,' she said to herself, as she saw the easy
bearing and handsome face of the young man; then looking at his
companion, she saw by his lumpish aspect and coarse hands, that he
occupied a much lower rank of life than his friend.
Monsieur Vandeloup--for it was he--caught her eye as she was
scrutinising them, and his face broke into a smile--a most charming
smile, as Madame observed mentally, though she allowed nothing of
her thoughts to appear on her face.
'You want work,' she said, slowly folding up the letter, and placing
it in her pocket; 'do you understand anything about gold-mining?'
'Unfortunately, no, Madame,' said Vandeloup, coolly; 'but we are
willing to learn.'
Archie grunted in a dissatisfied manner, for he was by no means in
favour of teaching people their business, and, besides, he thought
Vandeloup too much of a gentleman to do good work.
'You look hardly strong enough for such hard labour,' said Mrs
Villiers, doubtfully eyeing the slender figure of the young man.
'Your companion, I think, will do, but you--'
'I, Madame, am like the lilies of the field that neither toil nor
spin,' replied Vandeloup, gaily; 'but, unfortunately, I am now
compelled by necessity to work, and though I should prefer to earn
my bread in an easier manner, beggars,'--with a characteristic
shrug, which did not escape Madame's eye--cannot be choosers.'
'You are French?' she asked quickly, in that language.
'Yes, Madame,' he replied in the same tongue, 'both my friend and
myself are from Paris, but we have not been long out here.'
'Humph,' Madame leaned her head on her hand and thought, while
Vandeloup looked at her keenly, and remembered what Slivers had
said.
'She is, indeed, a handsome woman,' he observed, mentally; 'my lines
will fall in pleasant places, if I remain here.'
Mrs Villiers rather liked the looks of this young man; there was a
certain fascination about him which few women could resist, and
Madame, although steeled to a considerable extent by experience, was
yet a woman. His companion, however, she did not care about--he had
a sullen and lowering countenance, and looked rather dangerous.
'What is your name?' she asked the young man.
'Gaston Vandeloup.'
'You are a gentleman?'
He bowed, but said nothing.
'And you?' asked Madame, sharply turning to the other.
He looked up and touched his mouth.
'Pardon him not answering, Madame,' interposed Vandeloup, 'he has
the misfortune to be dumb.'
'Dumb?' echoed Madame, with a glance of commiseration, while Archie
looked startled, and Selina mentally observed that silence was
golden.
'Yes, he has been so from his birth,--at least, so he gives me to
understand,' said Gaston, with a shrug of his shoulders, which
insinuated a doubt on the subject; 'but it's more likely the result
of an accident, for he can hear though he cannot speak. However, he
is strong and willing to work; and I also, if you will kindly give
me an opportunity,' added he, with a winning smile.
'You have not many qualifications,' said Madame, shortly, angry with
herself for so taking to this young man's suave manner.
'Probably not,' retorted Vandeloup, with a cynical smile. 'I fancy
it will be more a case of charity than anything else, as we are
starving.'
Madame started, while Archie murmured 'Puir deils.'
'Surely not as bad as that?' observed Mrs Villiers, in a softer
tone.
'Why not?' retorted the Frenchman, carelessly. 'Manna does not fall
from heaven as in the days of Moses. We are strangers in a strange
land, and it is hard to obtain employment. My companion Pierre can
work in your mine, and if you will take me on I can keep your
books'--with a sudden glance at a file of papers on the table.
'Thank you, I keep my own books,' replied Madame, shortly. 'What do
you say to engaging them, Archie?'
'We ma gie them a try,' said McIntosh, cautiously. 'Ye do need a
figger man, as I tauld ye, and the dour deil can wark i' the claim.'
Madame drew a long breath, and then made up her mind.
'Very well,' she said, sharply; 'you are engaged, M. Vandeloup, as
my clerk, and your companion can work in the mine. As to wages and
all that, we will settle to-morrow, but I think you will find
everything satisfactory.'
'I am sure of that, Madame,' returned Vandeloup, with a bow.
'And now,' said Madame Midas, graciously, relaxing somewhat now that
business was over, 'you had better have some supper.'
Pierre's face lighted up when he heard this invitation, and
Vandeloup bowed politely.
'You are very kind,' he said, looking at Mrs Villiers in a friendly
manner; 'supper is rather a novelty to both of us.'
Selina meanwhile had gone out, and returned with some cold beef and
pickles, a large loaf and a jug of beer. These she placed on the
table, and then retired to her seat again, inwardly rebellious at
having two tramps at the table, but outwardly calm.
Pierre fell upon the victuals before him with the voracity of a
starving animal, and ate and drank in such a savage manner that
Madame was conscious of a kind of curious repugnance, and even
Archie was startled out of his Scotch phlegm.
'I wadna care aboot keepin' yon long,' he muttered to himself; 'he's
mair like a cannibal nor a ceevalized body.'
Vandeloup, however, ate very little and soon finished; then filling
a glass with beer, he held it to his lips and bowed again to Madame
Midas.
'To your health, Madame,' he said, drinking.
Mrs Villiers bowed courteously. This young man pleased her. She was
essentially a woman with social instincts, and the appearance of
this young and polished stranger in the wilds of the Pactolus claim
promised her a little excitement. It was true that every now and
then, when she caught a glimpse from his scintillating eyes, she was
conscious of a rather unpleasant sensation, but this she put down to
fancy, as the young man's manners were really charming.
When the supper was ended, Pierre pushed back his chair into the
shadow and once more relapsed into his former gloom, but Vandeloup
stood up and looked towards Madame in a hesitating manner.
'I'm afraid, Madame, we disturb you,' he murmured vaguely, though in
his heart he wished to stay in this pleasant room and talk to such a
handsome woman; 'we had best be going.'
'Not at all,' answered Madame, graciously, 'sit down; you and your
friend can sleep in the men's quarters to-night, and to-morrow we
will see if we can't provide you with a better resting-place.'
Vandeloup murmured something indistinctly, and then resumed his
seat.
'Meanwhile,' said Mrs Villiers, leaning back in her chair, and
regarding him fixedly, 'tell me all about yourselves.'
'Alas, Madame,' answered Vandeloup, with a charming smile and
deprecating shrug of his shoulders, 'there is not much to tell. I
was brought up in Paris, and, getting tired of city life, I came out
to India to see a little of the world; then I went over to Borneo,
and was coming down to Australia, when our vessel was wrecked and
all on board were drowned but myself and this fellow,' pointing to
Pierre, 'who was one of the sailors. We managed to get a boat, and
after tossing about for nearly a week we were cast up on the coast
of Queensland, and from thence came to Melbourne. I could not get
work there, neither could my friend, and as we heard of Ballarat we
came up here to try to get employment, and our lines, Madame,'--with
another bow--'have fallen in a pleasant place.'
'What a dreadful chapter of accidents,' said Madame, coolly looking
at him to see if he was speaking the truth, for experience of her
husband had inspired her with an instinctive distrust of men.
Vandeloup, however, bore her scrutiny without moving a muscle of his
face, so Madame at last withdrew her eyes, quite satisfied that his
story was true.
'Is there no one in Paris to whom you can write?' she asked, after a
pause.
'Luckily, there is,' returned Gaston, 'and I have already sent a
letter, asking for a remittance, but it takes time to get an answer,
and as I have lost all my books, papers, and money, I must just wait
for a few months, and, as I have to live in the meantime, I am glad
to obtain work.'
'Still, your consul--' began Mrs Villiers.
'Alas, Madame, what can I say--how can I prove to him that I am what
I assert to be? My companion is dumb and cannot speak for me, and,
unluckily, he can neither read nor write. I have no papers to prove
myself, so my consul may think me--what you call--a scamp. No; I
will wait till I receive news from home, and get to my own position
again; besides,' with a shrug, 'after all, it is experience.'
'Experience,' said Madame, quietly, 'is a good schoolmaster, but the
fees are somewhat high.'
'Ah!' said Vandeloup, with a pleased look, 'you know Heine, I
perceive, Madame. I did not know he was read out here.'
'We are not absolute barbarians, M. Vandeloup,' said Madame, with a
smile, as she arose and held out her hand to the young man; 'and now
good night, for I am feeling tired, and I will see you to-morrow. Mr
McIntosh will show you where you are to sleep.'
Vandeloup took the hand she held out to him and pressed it to his
lips with a sudden gesture. 'Madame,' he said, passionately, 'you
are an angel, for to-day you have saved the lives of two men.'
Madame snatched her hand away quickly, and a flush of annoyance
spread over her face as she saw how Selina and Archie stared.
Vandeloup, however, did not wait for her answer, but went out,
followed by Pierre. Archie put on his hat and walked out after them,
while Madame Midas stood looking at Selina with a thoughtful
expression of countenance.
'I don't know if I've done a right thing, Selina,' she said, at
length; 'but as they were starving I could hardly turn them away.'
'Cast your bread on the waters and it shall come back after many
days--buttered,' said Selina, giving her own version of the text.
Madame laughed.
'M. Vandeloup talks well,' she observed.
'So did HE,' replied Selina, with a sniff, referring to Mr Villiers;
'once bitten, twice shy.'
'Quite right, Selina,' replied Mrs Villiers, coolly; 'but you are
going too fast. I'm not going to fall in love with my servant.'
'You're a woman,' retorted Selina, undauntedly, for she had not much
belief in her own sex.
'Yes, who has been tricked and betrayed by a man,' said Madame,
fiercely; 'and do you think because I succour a starving human being
I am attracted by his handsome face? You ought to know me better
than that, Selina. I have always been true to myself,' and without
another word she left the room.
Selina stood still for a moment, then deliberately put away her
work, slapped the cat in order to relieve her feelings, and poked
the fire vigorously.
'I don't like him,' she said, emphasizing every word with a poke.
'He's too smooth and handsome, his eyes ain't true, and his tongue's
too smart. I hate him.'
Having delivered herself of this opinion, she went to boil some
water for Mr McIntosh, who always had some whisky hot before going
to bed.
Selina was right in her estimate of Vandeloup, and, logically
argued, the case stood thus:--
Some animals of a fine organization have an instinct which warns
them to avoid approaching danger.
Woman is one of these finely-organized animals. ERGO--
Let no woman go contrary to her instinct.
CHAPTER V
MAMMON'S TREASURE HOUSE
At the foot of the huge mound of white mulloch which marked the site
of the Pactolus Mine was a long zinc-roofed building, which was
divided into two compartments. In one of these the miners left their
clothes, and put on rough canvas suits before going down, and here
also they were searched on coming up in order to see if they had
carried away any gold. From this room a long, narrow passage led to
the top of the shaft, so that any miner having gold concealed upon
him could not throw it away and pick it up afterwards, but had to go
right into the searching room from the cage, and could not possibly
hide a particle without being found out by the searchers. The other
room was the sleeping apartment of such miners as stayed on the
premises, for the majority of the men went home to their families
when their work was done.
There were three shifts of men on the Pactolus during the twenty-
four hours, and each shift worked eight hours at a time--the first
going on at midnight and knocking off at eight in the morning, the
second commencing at eight and ending at four in the afternoon, and
the third starting at four and lasting until midnight again, when
the first shift of men began anew.
Consequently, when M. Vandeloup awoke next morning at six o'clock
the first shift were not yet up, and some of the miners who had to
go on at eight were sleeping heavily in their beds. The sleeping
places were berths, ranging along two sides of the room, and divided
into upper and lower compartments like those on shipboard.
Gaston having roused himself naturally wanted to see where he was,
so rubbing his eyes and yawning he leaned on his elbow and took a
leisurely survey of his position.
He saw a rather large room lighted at regular intervals by three
square windows, and as these were uncurtained, the cold, searching
light of daybreak was slowly stealing through them into the
apartment, and all the dusky objects therein were gradually
revealing themselves in the still light. He could hear the heavy,
monotonous breathing of the men, and the restless turning and
tossing of those who could not sleep.
Gaston yawned once or twice, then feeling disinclined for any more
sleep, he softly put on his clothes, so as not to awake Pierre, who
slept in the berth below, and descending from his sleeping-place
groped his way to the door and went out into the cool fragrant
morning.
There was a chill wind blowing from the bush, bringing with it a
faint aromatic odour, and on glancing downwards he saw that the
grass was wet with dew. The dawn was burning redly in the east, and
the vivid crimson of the sky put him in mind of that sunset under
which he had landed with his companion on the Queensland coast.
Suddenly a broad shaft of yellow light broke into the pale pink of
the sky, and with a burst of splendour the sun rose slowly into
sight from behind the dark bush, and all the delicate workings of
the dawn disappeared in the flood of golden light which poured over
the landscape.
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