There were what they called cradles for treating larger quantities of soil; and there was another complicated one called a Tom.

Ben had all methods working. He paid some of the miners to help him and several of them were glad to earn money that way.

More than ever I wanted to get away. I felt there was something evil in this search for gold. I often thought of David Skelling who could not resist the temptation to steal gold which had been found by others, and how he had met his wretched end because of this.

Sometimes I went to the graveyards and looked at the rough stones which had been set up. James Morley. David Skelling. Two who had died since I had come. I shuddered to think that Morwenna or her baby might have been here … but for the grace of God, and the skill of Dr. Field … not forgetting Mrs. Bowles.

Then came the night when Justin was in our shack for a game of cards with Gervaise. More frequently they joined other players in the saloon but this was an evening when it was to be just a friendly game of poker between the two of them.

Before Pedrek’s birth when they had played in one of the shacks, Morwenna and I would be together. We usually went into the bedroom and talked while they played.

On this occasion I was alone as Morwenna was still sleeping at Golden Hall.

I left them and went into the bedroom. I wanted to get away. I found the scene sordid—not so much the shabby room with the candles guttering in their iron sticks, as the intent looks on the faces of the two. It sickened me. It was an outward sign of all that had brought us here away from our families, our homes and a gracious way of life.

Suddenly I heard a shout from the other side of the partition, the sound of a chair’s being pushed back, raised voices.

I ran into the next room. The two men were on their feet glaring at each other across the table.

“Cheat!” Gervaise was shouting. “I saw that. You can’t deny it.”

Justin’s face was very white. He said nothing. I saw the cards on the table. The ace and king of hearts were uppermost.

Gervaise said in a cold voice: “So this is it. This is the reason for your winnings. You’re a cheat, Cartwright. A card sharper …”

Justin stammered: “It was … a mistake …”

“A mistake to get caught.” Gervaise walked round the table. He pulled Justin up by his coat. He was several inches taller than Justin. He lifted him and shook him as though he were a dog. Then he threw him from him. Justin stumbled and went sprawling against the wall.

He stood up slowly. I thought he was going to run at Gervaise, who stood there waiting for him.

I put myself between them. “Stop it,” I cried. “Stop it. I won’t have fighting here.”

“He’s a cheat and a liar,” said Gervaise. I had never seen him cold like that before. He was a different man. Never had I seen him so furiously angry. But this was because I had never been present when the rules of this sacred matter had been violated.

I said: “Justin, I think it would be better if you left … now.”

“I shall never play with him again,” declared Gervaise. And I had never heard such coldness in his voice as I did then.

Justin did not speak. He was deflated. I thought: It’s true then. He cheats at cards. It is why he has the luck. Oh, poor Morwenna. Gervaise was a gambler but at least he was an honest one.

Justin slunk out. The door shut behind him.

“This,” I said, “is very upsetting.” I scooped up the cards on the table and put them into a drawer. “I don’t suppose you will want to play again in a hurry,” I said.

“Not with that card sharper. He will not play again in this place. Nobody will play with him when they know.”

Gervaise sat down and stared ahead of him. I sat opposite him. I said: “Shall you tell them?”

“What else can I do? How can I let him sit down at a table knowing what I do?”

“Perhaps he only did it once … in sudden temptation.”

He shook his head. “He was too practiced for that. I wondered some days ago. His luck was almost too good to be true. I think he has been doing it for years. He’s too good at it. It must be long practice. I wondered the other night when he kept coming up with the right cards. Then I watched. He’s clever. You have to be sharp. Well, tonight I was sharp.”

I was silent for a while. I thought: How I hate this gambling. How I hate this place. I want to leave and never see it again.

I said: “What will this mean? You will tell?”

“What else can I do?”

“What of Morwenna?”

“What has she to do with this?”

“She is his wife. Does this mean that it is the end of friendship between you and Justin?”

“You can’t expect me to be friends with a man like this, can you? I’ve caught him red-handed.”

“What shall we tell Morwenna?”

“She’ll know the truth, that’s all.”

“She can’t. She will be too upset.”

Gervaise stared at me incredulously.

“You don’t mean that I should let this pass! Go on as though nothing has happened because Morwenna will be upset?”

“She has not entirely recovered from the birth of Pedrek. Don’t you understand? It was a terrible ordeal. She nearly died. She mustn’t be upset. If she is, the baby will be upset. Remember it was touch and go. They both still need care.”

“I can’t let Justin Cartwright play with others, knowing what I know. At home he would be drummed out of any club. There would be a scandal if anyone was caught cheating as he has been.”

“For the sake of your precious game you would run the risk of harming Morwenna and her baby!”

Gervaise looked at me in bewilderment.

I said: “I know what we’ll do. I’ll go and see Justin. I’ll make him promise not to play for a while. And if he does promise, will you give me your word not to say anything about what happened tonight to anyone … just for a while?”

“You don’t understand, Angelet.”

“I do understand too well. This wretched gambling means more to you than anything. Everything can be thrust aside for it. Look at what it has brought us to. There are debts at home and debts here … and all because you have followed this urge … always you lose today and will win tomorrow. And now you are going to tell all those gamblers what Justin has done. Justin is Morwenna’s husband. She loves him. I will not have her upset. Gervaise, you have to promise me that you will say nothing of what happened tonight to anyone …”

“I cannot let him play … knowing this.”

“It’s against the gamblers’ ethics, I know. It is all right to risk money they haven’t got … to plunge deeper and deeper into debt … to bring misery to their families … but to break their silly rules is a mortal sin.”

Gervaise was fast becoming his old self. His choler had disappeared. He was tender and gentle. “You are so vehement, Angelet,” he said soothingly.

“I won’t have Morwenna upset. She could so easily be now. She is getting on so well living in comfort at Golden Hall. Lizzie is so good to her and loves to have her and the baby there. Gervaise, she must not know about this.”

“I won’t let him sit down and play with others, knowing what I do,” he said.

“If he promised not to play …”

“He wouldn’t.”

“He would. He’s got to.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see him. No … don’t come with me. I’m going alone.”

I ran out to the nearby shack. Justin was sitting at the table, his head in his hands.

“Justin,” I said.

He looked up and saw me.

“Angelet …”

“I want to talk to you.”

I went to the table and sat on the other side so that we were facing each other.

“I’m sorry it happened,” he said.

“Do you always cheat?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Is it … your profession?”

“I had to do something,” he said. “I’m not much good at anything else.”

“Morwenna’s father offered you a job working with him.”

He looked at me ruefully. “Not much in my line.”

“Justin, what are you going to do?”

“What can I do? I’m ruined.”

“Gervaise has promised me that he will tell no one for a while.”

“What?”

“Provided you don’t play.”

“He will tell.”

“No, he won’t.’ He’s promised me not to. It mustn’t be known. Morwenna must not know.”

He looked frightened.

I went on: “I can’t imagine what she would think. It would break her heart. She is so proud of you. And there is the baby. I won’t have Morwenna knowing.”

“No,” he murmured. “She mustn’t know.”

“Gervaise will do nothing for a while at least if you will promise not to play.”

He looked at me piteously.

I said: “You live by it, don’t you? Is that what you do in London?”

He did not speak and that told me enough. What had we done, Morwenna and I? It seemed that she had made a greater mistake than I had. Gervaise was weak but at least he was not a cheat.

“It’s got to stop, Justin,” I said. “You were bound to get caught sooner or later.”

He said: “If I could only strike gold I’d never touch another card. Why does it always go to those who have enough already? Look at Ben Lansdon.”

“He didn’t gamble away what he won, did he? He put it to a useful purpose.”

“Yes … and now he’s married to a gold mine.”

“Don’t be bitter, Justin. It seems to me that there is little to choose between any of you. But I want your promise that you will not play again until it is decided what we shall do. I’ll talk to Gervaise again. I want everything to go on as though this hasn’t happened. But you will not play cards again. As soon as you do, Gervaise will tell. He believes it is a matter of honor to do so.”

“There is nothing I can do but agree.”

“It is better not to rush into anything. Both you and Gervaise will feel differently about all this tomorrow. You can’t be enemies. After all, you are working together.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll promise.”

I stood up.

“You must … for Morwenna’s sake.”

He nodded and as I went out, he murmured: “Thank you, Angelet.”

There was an uneasy truce between the two men. I wondered how long it could last. They scarcely addressed a word to each other which was not in connection with their work. One would be deep down in the earth digging, the other winding up the pails of earth to bring them to the surface.

I had ceased to be interested in the methods of working; my revulsion to the whole matter was growing daily. The frantic desire for gold I saw in the faces of those men repelled me; the greed and, after the first exultation at someone’s find—simply because they thought the same thing could happen to them—the bitter envy. Lust for gold … envy of others … I could see why they were two of the most deadly sins.

I longed more than ever to be away from the place, to go home, to the excitement of London, the peace of Cador; they seemed like heavenly bliss to me.

I was growing listless. I supposed that was because of my condition. I thought constantly of the baby. How happy I could be if I were at home and my child could be brought up as I and all my family had been … in comfortable surroundings. But to have a child here! How could I bring up a child in this squalor?

Everywhere I looked there was disaster. I was anxious about the situation with Justin, although I confess I had little sympathy with him. My thoughts were all for Morwenna who might discover in due course that her husband was a cheat. Poor Morwenna, she was less worldly than I. How would she take it?

I longed for something to happen, something which would take me away from this increasingly unpleasant situation in which I found myself.

My prayers were answered … but not in the way I had expected.

Afterwards I learned a little about the methods which were used in the mines. When gold had first been discovered here in the early fifties, mining had been comparatively simple. That was when the presence of gold had been found to exist in the valleys … the deposit formed in dried-up streams. It was near the surface of the earth. That was soon discovered and mined. But now they had to dig deeper down into the earth and that was why deep shafts had to be sunk. After one or two fatal accidents, it was realized that the clay, gravel and sand had to be shored up with wood.

When the earth which might contain gold was brought to the surface it was put into wheelbarrows and taken to water to be what they called puddled and washed by means of the cradle, to separate the soil from the gold.