Madame Midas

ron memory — who was born with the present century — very often before it — and remembers George III, the Battle of Waterloo,

alline purity of its waters — an assertion which we of to-day feel is open to considerable doubt. His wealth is unbounded, his memory marvellous, a

ghout Victoria. His name was Slivers — plain Slivers, as he said himself — and, from a physical point of view, he certainly spoke the truth. What his Christian name was

rst white men who came to Ballarat found Slivers had already taken up his abode there, and lived in friendly relations with the local blacks. He had achieved this amicable relationship by the trifling loss of a leg, an arm, and an eye, all of which portions of

rather a flight of fancy, as Slivers was one of those exasperating individuals who, if they lived

body rattled like a dried pea in a pod. His hair was white, and fringed the lower portion of his yellow little scalp in a most deceptive fashion. With his hat on Slivers looked sixty; take it off and his bald head immediately added ten years to his existence. His one eye was bright and sharp, of a greyish colour, and the loss of the other was replaced by a greasy black p

nant of old Ballarat which had survived the rage for new houses and highly ornamented terraces. Slivers had been offered money for th

dirty, the ink thick and the pens rusty; yet, in spite of all these disadvantages, Slivers managed to do well and make money. He used to recommend men to different mines round about, and whenever a manager wanted men, or new hands wanted work, they took themselves off to Slivers, and were sure to be satisfied there. Consequently, his office was nearly always full; either of people on business or casual acquaintances dropping in to have a drink — Slivers was generous in the whisky line — or to pump the old man about some new mine, a thing which no one ever managed to do. When the office was empty, Slivers would go on sorting the scrip on his table, drinking his whisky, or talking to Billy. Now Billy was about as well known in Ballarat as Slivers, and was equally as old and garrulous in his own way. He was one of those large white yellow-crested cockatoos who, in th

was writing a letter in the little clearing caused by their removal. On the old-fashioned inkstand was a paper full of grains of gold, and on this the sunlight rested, making it glitter in the obscurity of the room. Billy, seated on Slivers’ shoulder, was astonished at this, and, inspired by

eing Slivers for a moment or two resumed his journey. Slivers stretched out his hand for the ruler, whereupon

le bird, flopping up and down on the floor

g to him, as he was leaning back in his chair drumming in an absent sort of way with his lean fingers on the table. His cork arm hung down limply, and his one eye was fixed on a letter lying in front of him. This w

, in a musing sort of tone, ‘and she’s got a good t

lly once more, i

o have collared that ground before she did; but that infernal McIntosh never woul

gers were round the writer’s throat. Tapping with his wooden leg on the floor, he was about to recommence his musings, when he heard a step in the pass

upt entry; ‘how’s your mother! — Balla

n shaved chin, which had that blue appearance common to very dark men who shave. His mouth — that is, as much as could be seen of it under the drooping moustache — was weak and undec

Slivers, after contemplating his visit

lling out a cigar and lighting it. ‘I’ve l

in his chair so as to face Villiers. ‘I could have told you th

d Villiers, with a sulky air. ‘Come now, old boy,’ in a cajoling mann

returned Slivers, unconsciously quoting Voltair

the other, eagerl

le old gentleman leaned back and laughed loudly in

s closed teeth; ‘you know as well as I do

ising his yellow crest in an angry

illy, who sat on the old man’s shoulder complacently ruffling his feathers, he w

n the floor, then turned to his visitor and looked at him fixedly with his bright e

e,’ said Slivers

retorted Villiers, sulkily

good sir! Why, if I was married to her I wouldn’t sneak away whene

lliers crossly, ‘but you don’t know wha

sh; the whole biling of them; they’ve got the Pactolus claim

quite unmoved, ‘all Ba

the office. ‘I knew Curtis, McIntosh and the rest were making their pile, but I couldn’t find out where

who had climbed up again on the table, a

turning vindictively on Villiers. ‘You ain’t going to le

that?’ asked Villiers, sul

iciously; ‘find out if she’s in love, and thre

ing any lovers,’ retorted Vil

ill “Mr Right” comes along, and then she’ll be

el

ed, spinning round on his wooden leg, ‘it’s a lovely idea. Wait till we meet “Mr Right”, just wait,’

astics, my friend,’ said a soft voice

oung man of about thirty, dressed in a neat suit of blue serge, and wearing a large white wide-awake hat, with a bird’s-eye handkerchief

grily, when he saw his visitor

e table. ‘We are new arrivals in the countr

tory,’ snarled Sliv

etorted the stranger, coolly. ‘You would not be a

livers stared dumbfounded at be

illy, rapidly. ‘You

young man, bowing gravely to the bird. ‘But as soon as he recovers the

love with him, and who, moreover, had a clever tongue in his head. All Slivers’ animosity revived against Madame Midas as he thought of the Devil’s Lead, and he determined to use this young man as a tool to ruin her in the eyes of the

rasping his pen firm

, ‘is Gaston Vandeloup, my friend

e series of black scratches, whi

me from?’ was hi

uavity, ‘is too long to repeat at pres

can you do?’ aske

urns up,’ retort

on, sir; not you,’ snarled Sli

y, slipping one hand into his pocket and leaning up again

’ said Slive

sweetly, ‘his legs, arms

ing. He wrote a letter to McIntosh, recommending him to take on t

ur services, Mon

d Slivers, holding

and put them in the thin, claw-like f

ivers, pocketing the money; ‘the Pactolus clai

a tumbler with the whisky, drank it off. Slivers looked ruefully at the bottle, an

ent to the door, out of which

can then discuss the beauty of this lady to whom Mr Slivers alludes. I have no

and then Slivers sprang u

sked, in an excited manner, pul

renchman walking away, as handsome and gallant a man as he h

ning to Slivers, who was

other, triumphantly. That i