The Pool of St. Branok (40 page)

“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.

It was a disheartening process; and again and again the results of their efforts were fruitless. Now and again there was the tiny speck … nothing much in itself, but a reason for hope.

As the shaft grew deeper and deeper, naturally the danger increased. There were poisons from rotting vegetation. There was one young man in the town who was a permanent invalid. He had worked with his father and had been down below when there had been a slight fall of earth which meant it was some hours before they could dig him out. As a result he had a perpetual cough and it was obvious that he was slowly dying.

So it was very necessary that the timber which propped up the sides of the shaft was strong enough to hold back the earth.

It was early afternoon. I was on my way to the store. I knew Mrs. Bowles would want to know how little Pedrek was faring: she would listen to accounts of his actions, head on one side, lips pursued, sparkling with self-congratulatory pleasure. Her child, the one who might never have been brought into the world but for her skill.

Just as I was about to enter the shop, I heard the shouts. I stood listening. Mrs. Bowles came out of the shop and stood beside me, her eyes grave.

Men had left their work and were running to a certain spot.

“There’s trouble,” said Mrs. Bowles. “Arthur! Quick!”

Arthur joined us and we ran with the crowd. I felt a fearful apprehension for they were running in the direction of our shaft.

I was on the edge of the crowd.

I saw Gervaise. Men were crowding round him. I tried to push towards him.

I heard someone say: “Someone’s down there.”

“It’s Cartwright. It must be …” said another.

“Gervaise!” I called. “Gervaise.”

He did not hear me.

“What’s happening?” I said.

One of the men turned and looked at me. “Timber must have given way.”

I came a little nearer. It was not easy to force my way through.

Gervaise said: “He’s down there. I’m going to get him.”

“You’re a fool, man,” said Bill Merrywether, one of the oldest and most experienced of the miners. “You’d never do it.”

“I’m going,” repeated Gervaise.

“Gervaise! Gervaise!” I cried.

He turned briefly and gave me a smile of tenderness.

Bill Merrywether attempted to restrain him but he pushed him aside. I watched him disappear down the shaft.

Someone turned and looked at me. It was one of the miners.

“It’s all right, me dear,” he said.

Someone else said: “He’s crazy. It’ll be the two of ’em now.”

“What’s going on?” I begged. “Tell me.”

Mrs. Bowles was beside me. She put an arm round me. “It’s a fall,” she said. “It will be all right.”

“My God,” said someone. “He’s got guts.”

“Gone in to save his mate.”

“Madness. Suicide.”

Nobody answered.

I tried to fight my way to the head of the mine, but several of them held me back.

“You can’t do nothing,” said one of the miners. “We’ve just got to wait, my dear, to be ready if …”

I don’t know how long it was. Time stood still. The silence was intense. All that sky … the scene which had become so repugnant to me … and all these people now joined together as though in silent prayer.

How long? I do not know. Seconds … minutes … hours. I kept thinking of them in that room, Gervaise glaring at Justin. Gervaise the gambler, Justin the cheat … and they were down in the mine together … the mine I had always subconsciously feared and hated.

There was a sudden shout.

Something was happening. As one person we moved towards the mine.

I saw Justin then. He was unconscious. Gervaise was holding him, pushing him upwards. Several men had rushed forward. They had Justin now. They had dragged him out. For a moment I glimpsed Gervaise. I saw his face triumphant … grimed with dirt. I saw the flash of his white teeth.

And then there was a rumbling sound. Someone reached out to seize him … but he was no longer there.

We heard the terrible sound of falling earth. The shaft had collapsed … taking Gervaise with it.

It took them four hours to dig him out. There was mourning throughout the township for a brave man. And I had become a widow.

Justin was carried to the shack. Morwenna left Golden Hall and came to him. He was shaken and bruised but there was nothing from which he could not recover.

My emotions were in too much turmoil for me to think clearly. I believed many of them were concerned for me. There was I, six months pregnant, having lost my husband in dramatic circumstances.

Morwenna insisted on looking after me, as well as Justin.

She could not speak of Gervaise’s heroic deed, but I knew it was uppermost in her mind.

The whole of the township wanted to take care of me. They did all they could to help—each in his or her own way. I was deeply touched and I thought how disaster brought out the best in people. The good and the evil, they were there in us all. Recently I had thought a great deal about the lust for gold, the greed and the envy. I had seen it in this place so clearly where now I saw the caring compassion.

I thought often of Gervaise, remembering the happy times—how kind he had been on our wedding night; how gentle he had always been to me. I forgot that incident at the
auberge
; I forgot the debts. When one has lost someone one has loved, one remembers only the good things.

I had a great deal to think about; my future had changed.

Ben came to see me.

He sat in the shack and looked at me sorrowfully.

“Oh, Angel, what can I say? If there is anything I can do to help …”

I smiled. “That is what everyone is saying to me.”

“If only …”

I looked at him pleadingly. I knew what he was going to say and I could not bear it.

“I suppose you will go home now,” he said.

I nodded. “I shall have to wait until the child is born.”

He looked round the shack. “I hate to think of you in this place.”

“I’ll be all right. It has happened to others.”

“And only Mrs. Bowles. I shall have Dr. Field here. He shall stay at the Hall.”

I smiled wanly. “You are forgetting, Ben. This is nothing to do with you.”

“Every concern of yours is mine, too.”

“How is the mine going?”

He did not answer. He looked very sad.

I said: “Everyone here is so kind to me.”

“I shall make sure everything is done … everything possible.”

“Thank you, Ben. It was good of you to call.”

“You speak as though I am just one of the others.”

“That, Ben, is really what you have become.”

“I’ll talk to you later. At the moment you are too shocked.”

I said, “Thank you,” and he left me.

Gervaise was buried in the graveyard. They gave him a hero’s funeral. The parson came from Walloo to preside.

It was very moving. I was there, Morwenna on one side of me, Justin on the other. I was a pathetic figure … the widow soon to bear the dead man’s child … the man who had died a most heroic death and had won the admiration of every single one of them.

The parson spoke of him most movingly.

“His death is an example of the supreme sacrifice. His friend was in danger. No one could have expected him to take such a terrible risk. But he did not hesitate. They had come out together; they had worked together in amity; they were friends.”

Visions of them, facing each other across the card table, came to me … Gervaise, departed from his usual nonchalance, blazing with anger; Justin crouching before him: Gervaise seizing Justin and shaking him as though he were a dog.

“Greater love hath no man than he who layeth down his life for his friend,” said the parson.

I saw that many of those present were openly weeping.

And so they laid Gervaise to rest not far from the remains of David Skelling.

I thought: He will never go home now. He will never find that fortune which he was so sure would be his.

Poor Gervaise. He had always lost.

Morwenna had left Golden Hall, much to Lizzie’s sorrow. She visited us frequently and was constantly bringing gifts for the baby. She was worried about me, too.

“Angelet,” she said, “you must go and stay at the Hall. Your baby must be born there.”

“Oh no,” I said. “Thank you, but that is not possible. You are so good to us all and it is so kind …”

“But I want you to come,” she insisted, her eyes filling with tears. “I love little babies.”

“We have to be in our own homes, Lizzie,” I said. “We just cannot go into other people’s.”

“Ben wants you to come.” She smiled triumphantly. “He says he is going to insist.”

“I couldn’t, Lizzie.”

She thrust that aside. I could see she thought Ben’s wish must be law.