mr. pinchook gave a little start of surprise, then got up and bowed.

esmeralda’s beauty took him by surprise. he had expected to see—well, if he had been asked what he had expected to see, he would have found it difficult to answer: something rough and uncouth, and, of course, quite uncultivated. now esmeralda, though she wore a short skirt with a blue blouse, and was without a hat, did not look uncouth, however uncultivated she may have been.

with her stocking in her hand, she stood upright as a dart, and looked at the dry little lawyer in her direct fashion.

“who is this, varley?” she asked, with her usual fearlessness.

“this gentleman is mr. pinchook,” said varley; “he is a lawyer, and he has come from london on business connected with you; in fact, he has come to look for you.”

“to look for me?” she said, her eyes opening on mr. pinchook, so that the old gentleman felt almost uncomfortable under their uncompromising gaze.

“yes,” said varley, languidly. “what i have warned you of so often has happened at last. i knew it would. mr. pinchook has come to claim you.”

“won’t you take a chair, miss chetwynde?” said mr. pinchook; and he offered her his, transferring himself to a box.

esmeralda took no notice of the chair, but still kept her eyes upon him. varley howard leaned against the side of the hut, and blew the smoke from his lips into the delicate rings[45] which had been esmeralda’s delight in her childhood, and were her delight still.

“mr. pinchook has come to tell us all about you,” he said. “to put it shortly, ralda, he is your grandfather’s lawyer.”

“my grandfather’s?” repeated esmeralda.

varley howard nodded.

“his name was chetwynde, so was your father’s. both your grandfather and your father are dead, and your mother, as you know, is dead too.” he glanced at the photograph.

esmeralda took it up, looked at it intently, then laid it down again.

“then i belong to you altogether, varley?” she said.

“not exactly,” he said, impassively. “i expect you have other relations.”

mr. pinchook nodded.

“her nearest is lady wyndover, mr. gordon chetwynde’s niece. she will be miss chetwynde’s guardian.”

esmeralda looked at varley howard, who avoided her eyes, and continued:

“mr. pinchook has brought us good news, ralda. your grandfather was a rich man—very rich; he has left you all his money. so that you are now rich—very rich.”

“over two millions,” murmured mr. pinchook, with bland satisfaction. the amount, it is scarcely necessary to say, was not realized by esmeralda. she drew a long breath, and looked at varley howard with a smile.

“i am glad we are rich, varley,” she said.

varley howard looked down at the floor.

“mr. pinchook has come to take you to england, to—”

—“to lady wyndover,” murmured mr. pinchook.

esmeralda looked at him, and then at varley howard.

“that will be jolly,” she said. “you’d like to go to england, wouldn’t you, varley?”

“mr. pinchook doesn’t propose to take me,” said varley.

“you mean that he wants to take me alone? then i sha’n’t go!” she sat herself down on the chair, and leaned back with her hands folded over the stocking in her lap, with a fixed air of determination.

mr. pinchook coughed, and looked rather disconcerted.

“my dear young lady—” he began.

“you might talk until you were black in the face,” said esmeralda, calmly, “but i shouldn’t go without varley. you can keep the money.”

mr. pinchook was about to recommence his remonstrance, but varley howard signed to him to be silent.

[46]

“there’s a lovely view from just outside the hut, mr. pinchook,” he said. that gentleman took the hint, and retired, and varley howard seated himself on the box and leaned forward.

“look here, ralda,” he said; “just listen to me.”

“well, what is it?” said esmeralda. “if you think i’m going to take this money or go to england with this old mummy without you, you’re mistaken.”

“see here,” he said. “it’s my deal; you hold on till all the cards are out. i’ve looked forward to this day; somehow i always felt it would come, though i didn’t think you’d turn out such a golden heiress. the old game’s played out, ralda, and we must take a fresh pack, and begin a new deal. it was all very well for me to be your guardian while you were just esmeralda of three star, but the situation’s altered. you are now miss chetwynde, and the owner of a pile of dollars mountains high. you’ve got to take those dollars and live up to them; in short, you’ve got to be a swell. you’ll go to england to this lady—whatever her name is—and learn how to play your part.”

“not if i don’t like,” said esmeralda. “and i don’t like—without you.”

varley howard rolled another cigarette, and though his face was as impassive as ever, his delicate fingers quivered slightly.

“that’s nonsense, ralda,” he said. “i don’t want to give myself away, but, though i may shine somewhat in three star and similar places, i should be out of my element among your swell friends in england.”

“i don’t want any friends that are too swell for you: you’re swell enough for me. besides, i don’t seem to fancy it. i’m quite happy. send that old man about his business, and let’s go on as we were.”

“you can’t do that, ralda,” he said. “just think a moment. suppose i did as you want me to do, what do you think your friends would say?”

“i don’t know, and don’t care,” she remarked.

“but i do. they’d say that i’d persuaded you to stay here, or that if i hadn’t persuaded you, that i let you—an innocent girl, ignorant of the world—have your own way, and so ruined your life. that would be rather rough on me, ralda.”

she saw his meaning, and her brows began to knit, and her mobile lips to tremble.

“you’re sending me away, varley!” she said, piteously.

[47]

“put it that way, if you like,” he said. “anyway, you’ve got to go. you’ll be all right, once you’ve started.”

she lifted her great eyes to him reproachfully.

“no, i don’t mean that you’ll forget me or three star; but it will be a great change; you’ll have plenty of friends, and heaps of money, and will be as happy as a sand-boy.”

she went to him and put her arm round his neck, and he could feel that she was struggling with her tears.

“i should be wretched—wretched! i won’t go!”

“i don’t think you’ll be wretched,” he said, and he took the hand that hung over his shoulder and stroked it. “but i’ll strike a bargain with you. if you’re not happy, if anything goes wrong, you shall come back to three star if you care to.”

“i shall soon be back, then,” she said. “it’s scarcely worth while my taking that long journey; it’s a waste of time and money.”

he smiled grimly.

“you can afford to waste a little money,” he said.

“and do you mean to say that you won’t come to see me?” she demanded.

he shook his head.

“you’ll understand why not before you’ve been in england a month—a week, perhaps. and, look here, ralda, if i were you i shouldn’t let on much about me or the camp—”

she drew herself up.

“do you think i’m ashamed of you?” she said, fiercely.

he was going to say “no, but you will be,” but he checked himself.

“it’s a bargain, then?” he said. “if you’re unhappy, you come back?”

“yes,” she said, “if i’ve got to go. but you’ll soon have me back, and then you’ll be sorry enough you sent me away.”

“all right; i’ll risk it.” he rose and called mr. pinchook into the hut, but that gentleman came in rather flurried; he had just witnessed a fight between taffy and the baronet down in the camp below, and was much shocked and agitated.

“miss chetwynde is ready to start when you are,” said varley in his quiet way.

“i’m delighted to hear it!” said mr. pinchook, mopping his forehead. “and i—er—really think the sooner we start the better. this—er—rough place is not a fit place for miss chetwynde.”

esmeralda looked at him indignantly, and opened her lips; but varley cut in before she could utter an indignant protest.

[48]

“you could go this evening,” he said. “miss howard—i beg pardon, i mean miss chetwynde—is a capital horsewoman, and can ride to good luck, where you’ll catch the coach. i will, with your permission, accompany you thus far.”

mr. pinchook assented eagerly. he longed to get back to london.

“very good,” said varley. “while you’re taking refreshment i’ll step down to the camp and break the news to the boys. it will want some breaking,” he added, dryly, as he sauntered out.

the fight was still in progress when varley got down to the camp. but it stopped suddenly when the news of esmeralda’s approaching departure spread among the crowd. it was received at first with a stony silence of amazement, then a yell of indignation and execration directed at mr. pinchook’s unoffending head rose in the air.

“what! take our ralda!” shouted taffy. “why, blame his old skin, let’s chuck him in the river, boys!”

a yell welcomed this suggestion, and the crowd set off en masse up the hill toward the hut. varley howard knew that he was powerless to stem the torrent, and that it was better to let it have its way up to a certain point, so he went a little ahead of the rest; but, having reached the hut, stood in the open door-way, shielding the startled and terrified mr. pinchook, who gazed at the crowd affrightedly over varley’s shoulder. then varley said:

“look here, boys; i let you come up here that you may see ralda herself and learn from her own lips that she is going of her own free will. she’s come into a slice of luck.” he did not mention the amount for the simple reason that he felt it would destroy all credence in the minds of his audience, and make them suspect that he was tricking them. “her people have turned up, and—she’s got to go. i guess three star isn’t going to stand in the way of her good fortune.”

“ralda, ralda!” shouted the crowd, excitedly, and refusing to be pacified. “let’s see her, and hear what she’s got to say herself.”

esmeralda pushed mr. pinchook aside, and stepped forward at varley’s left hand. she was very pale, and her lovely eyes looked through a mist of tears.

a shout went up at her appearance, and taffy, with the marks of his recent encounter fresh upon him, demanded, with outstretched hands:

“is this true, ralda, or is varley only spoofing us?”

[49]

her lips quivered, and it seemed for a moment as if she could not speak. then she said, with a catch in her voice:

“it’s true, boys. they’ve found me, and i’ve got to go. i don’t want to go—to leave you all”—a big tear rolled down her cheek and fell on the stocking she still held in her hand—“but i’ve got to go. but i’m coming back—i’m coming back soon. don’t make it hard for me!” she pleaded, as the crowd murmured audibly. “tell them, varley!” she went into the hut with her arm across her eyes like a heart-broken child.

“ralda’s hit the nail on the head, boys,” said varley. “it’s as hard for her as it is for us.”

taffy stood, opening and shutting his huge mouth for a moment or two, then he dashed his hair—or something else—out of his eyes, and turned savagely upon the rest.

“she’s right,” he said. “if she’s got to go, she’s got to go. three star ain’t going to stand in her way. we’ll give her a good send-off, boys. come down to dan’s and let’s get out the programme.” and almost in silence the crowd went down the hill again.

“god bless my soul!” said mr. pinchook. “what a dreadful set of men!”

varley only smiled.

esmeralda’s tears flowed freely as she packed the small bundle which she was to carry on the saddle in front of her, and mother melinda, too utterly overcome to be of any assistance even in these limited preparations, sobbed unrestrainedly. in the midst of her grief esmeralda remembered that lord norman had not been amongst the protesting crowd. she wondered why he had been absent.

as the sun was setting behind the hills the horses were brought round. esmeralda and mother melinda mingled their tears as they clung to each other; and, after many false starts, the three set off. as they went down the trail to the camp, esmeralda riding between varley and mr. pinchook, a crowd collected in their way. every man had left his work to assist in the send-off. some were mounted, but the majority were on foot. taffy, on a great black horse, was at their head. by his side was a man with a concertina—the only musical instrument in the camp excepting the piano in the eldorado.

as esmeralda rode down, the mob sent up a ringing cheer, and parted to let the three ride through, then it closed up behind them and followed in marching order, the concertina wailing out “auld lang syne.”

[50]

the procession wound its way through the valley, up over the hill, and on to the main road. every now and then the crowd sent up a cheer into the clear air. the concertina wailed on as if the man who played it were possessed of arms of steel. sometimes the men sung, at others they talked together of how esmeralda had been brought to the camp, of her childish sayings, of how she rode and shot; and strong men tried to conceal their emotion under hysterical laughter and blood-curdling oaths.

when they came to the cross-roads they halted; the concertina moaned out jerkily, “god save the queen”—it meant esmeralda.

esmeralda, knowing that the parting had come, turned her horse and faced the boys. she tried to speak cheerfully, but the tears stood in her swollen eyes; she dropped her reins, and could only gasp out:

“good-bye, good-bye!”

“good-bye, ralda, good-bye!” shouted the men in voices hoarse with grief and excitement.

almost as if drawn toward them, esmeralda touched her horse, and it bounded forward, but varley howard seized the bridle and swung the animal round. as he did so, taffy pressed forward and thrust a note into her hand. “i forgot it, almost!” he said.

the three travelers set off at a gallop, and the royal procession was soon left behind; but for some time the wailing of the concertina followed them, and sung like a human voice in esmeralda’s ears.

and thus esmeralda left three star camp.

when they got to good luck there was just time before the coach started for her to change her habit for the blue serge gown which she carried in her bundle. the note was still clutched in her hand. it was from lord norman; she gazed at it with dull surprise. there were only a few lines:

“i can not stay here now that there is no hope for me. it was too much to hope that you would love me; but i must go on loving you till i die.

norman.”

the coach drew up before the saloon, and the parting with varley howard took place. its manner was characteristic of both. outwardly he was calm and impassive as usual, and neither mr. pinchook nor the on-lookers guessed how the gamester was racked.

esmeralda, utterly regardless of the spectators, who, with a delicacy worthy of pall mall, turned aside, took him in her[51] large embrace, and, with her head thrown back, gazed at his pale face through a fog of tears. she was speechless, and his voice sounded lower even than usual as he tried to comfort her.

“good-bye, ralda!” he said. “for heaven’s sake, don’t cry, or i—i shall cry myself, and what will the boys say?”

“remember,” she panted, “i am coming back! i’m coming back!”

the coachman, who had carefully kept his face turned away, and had been busy with his gloves, which seemed peculiarly difficult to get on, gave a warning cough. esmeralda, blinded by her tears, was lifted on to the seat of honor beside the driver, and the horses, which had been fretting and fuming for the last ten minutes, dashed on their way, and esmeralda was borne out of varley howard’s sight.

a few weeks later a cab drove up to lady wyndover’s house in grosvenor square. mr. pinchook and esmeralda alighted, that estimable gentleman looking considerably done up with his long journey, and inquired of a giant in plush for lady wyndover, and were conducted up the broad stairs to her ladyship’s boudoir. the footman opened the door, and a lady rose languidly from a satin couch. she was a slight, fair-haired woman of more than middle age, but in the light which came through the rose-colored curtains esmeralda at first took her for a girl. for lady wyndover’s hair was of flaxen hue, and dressed in girlish style; her complexion, as great a marvel from an artistic point of view as her wonderfully corseted figure, was a delicate mixture of milk and roses. she wore a satin tea-gown of the faintest blue, from beneath the skirt of which peeped the tiniest of white kid, high-heeled shoes. her hands were thick with rings, which made the slim fingers seem preposterously small.

as a work of art, lady wyndover was simply perfect from the crown of her dyed hair to the tip of her dainty shoe; and esmeralda regarded her with wide-open eyes, in which astonishment was the predominant expression.

“oh, mr. pinchook!” said her ladyship in her thin, low voice. “so you have come at last!”

“yes, lady wyndover,” said mr. pinchook, with a suspicion of a sigh of relief. “we have arrived at last!”

“and this,” said lady wyndover, “is esmeralda?”

she looked at “this” as if esmeralda were some curiosity which mr. pinchook had been commissioned to procure from some savage land; then she held out her hand and bestowed a[52] kiss—a careful kiss, because carmine comes off the lips—on esmeralda’s forehead.

“how do you do, my dear?” she inquired, and she looked at the fresh loveliness of the young face with a growing surprise and astonished admiration.

she had expected to see—well, what mr. pinchook had expected to see—a rough, uncouth, gauche girl, eloquent of the backwoods and savagery. but this slim, graceful girl, with her red-gold hair and star-like eyes smashed lady wyndover’s fancy picture into smithereens. she stood and gazed at her, and esmeralda gazed back with a grave and steady regard which disconcerted even lady wyndover.

“you didn’t tell me—” she exclaimed to mr. pinchook, thrown off her guard for the moment. then she recovered herself. “my dear girl,” she murmured, “i can not tell you how glad i am to see you! you are so like your poor mother!” she touched her eye—or seemed to do so—with a lace handkerchief. “you must be quite tired out! that awful journey!”

“i’m not tired at all,” said esmeralda, her voice, though by no means loud, ringing like a bell after lady wyndover’s thin tones.

lady wyndover looked at her with a persuasive smile.

“oh, but you must be, my dear, though you don’t know it. go into that room and take your things off. and by the time you come back we’ll have some tea.”

when the door closed upon esmeralda, lady wyndover turned upon mr. pinchook.

“why didn’t you tell me she was so—so beautiful?” she exclaimed, with her flashing hands outstretched.

“i’m under the impression that i informed your ladyship that miss chetwynde was good-looking.”

“good-looking!” exclaimed lady wyndover, with a little laugh. “why, my dear mr. pinchook, she is simply superb! i am surprised and delighted.” she laughed languidly. “why, you must be quite sorry to lose so charming a traveling companion?”

mr. pinchook smiled and coughed behind his gloved hand with an air of long-suffering patience.

“do you mean to say that she is not charming? she looks delightful. think of that face and two millions of money! what a prize she will be! i wonder who the lucky man will be?”

mr. pinchook took up his hat.

“a great responsibility has been laid upon you, lady[53] wyndover,” he said. “i now have the pleasure to place your ward in your hands. as you say, she—er—is extremely beautiful, and is possessed of an immense fortune. this you know already; but i shall be extremely surprised if you do not shortly discover that she is possessed of something else.”

“what else?” demanded lady wyndover, smiling, and with her delicately penciled brows arched interrogatively.

“of a temper, lady wyndover,” said mr. pinchook, with the same long-suffering smile. “i do not know whether most young girls are as trying as miss chetwynde; if so, i thank heaven that i am still a bachelor.”

“good gracious! what has she done?”

“what has she done!” repeated mr. pinchook. “the question would be easier to answer if it were ‘what has she not done?’ nothing very dreadful, from your point of view, i dare say, lady wyndover, but enough to drive a man of my age—er—and quiet habits into a lunatic asylum. when i tell you that she had got all the men in the ship—including the captain—to fall in love with her, and that i lived in hourly dread of bloodshed; that she insists upon having her own way on every occasion, and that she has been spoiled by a whole camp full of the most fearful rowdies i have ever dreamed of, you will form some idea of what i have suffered during the last few weeks, and understand why i resign my charge with a profound sense of relief.”

“good gracious!” lady wyndover exclaimed again. “you frighten me! do you mean to say that the girl is perfectly odious?”

mr. pinchook smiled grimly.

“i’ll come to-morrow and go through some necessary matters with you, lady wyndover. please say ‘good-bye’ to miss chetwynde for me.” he paused at the door, and, with a groan, added: “odious isn’t the word! she’s worse than odious; she’s a witch, and every man who comes within reach of her becomes a perfect fool! but you’ll find out all this for yourself before many hours have passed! odious! good lord, i should have had a much easier time if she had been!”