The Goldminer's Sister

by Alison Stuart

  ‘Yes, she told me she is ill. She has friends in Maiden’s Creek who would help with her care when the time comes. Be sure to let us know.’

  Maggie nodded. ‘My sister knows Sissy’s not long for the world. I write to Lil every week and report on her health.’

  Feeling lighter than she had for a long time, Eliza stepped back into the foetid lane. The girl still stood in the doorway of the neighbouring house, her thin arms blue with cold. Eliza had deliberately not brought much money with her on this excursion to Little Lon, but what she did have she gave to the waif with orders to hide it from her employer and buy herself a decent feed.

  Eliza’s appointment with Mrs Wallace had been set for four o’clock, which gave Eliza time to return to the hotel to wash and change. Her visit to Little Lon had left her feeling soiled and depressed. She had no doubt the fancy politicians from Spring Street and the businessmen from Collins Street used and abused the powerless women and girls of the brothels and the streets and left them to die too young.

  Sissy had probably been more fortunate than most—she had employment in a good establishment with a madam who looked after her girls—but it remained a degrading and dehumanising occupation.

  Eliza eked out her shillings for a cab ride to the address in East Melbourne, which proved to be an elegant villa of recent build. She was admitted to a spacious front room by a neatly dressed maid. A tall, slender woman in her early forties stood to greet her with outstretched hand.

  ‘Edwina Wallace,’ she said. ‘Welcome to Ormiston House, or as I should now more properly call it, East Melbourne Academy.’

  ‘It’s a lovely house,’ Eliza said, looking up at the gilded architraves and heavy velvet drapes.

  ‘Built by my husband. Sadly, he only lived long enough to enjoy it for a couple of years.’ Edwina Wallace sighed. ‘And bills still have to be paid so I decided to pursue the opportunity for the advancement of education for young women. One day, Miss Penrose, women will be admitted to study medicine or law and the walls of the august University of Melbourne will shudder with horror.’

  Eliza smiled. ‘I once told my father that I wished I could be an engineer like my brother. I thought the poor man would have an apoplexy. He said he should never have allowed me to share my brother’s lessons, it gave me ideas.’

  ‘Ideas, Miss Penrose. We should all have ideas! Now, do take a seat and I shall send for tea.’

  The interview with Mrs Wallace went well. Eliza found the lady to be intelligent and passionate in her pursuit of education for women. The school had just twenty pupils and only one other teacher apart from the principal.

  Mrs Wallace perused Eliza’s credentials, lingering on the glowing reference from the ladies’ academy in Devon. ‘This all looks perfectly satisfactory,’ she said, passing the letter back to Eliza. ‘I would like to offer you a position, but I sense a restlessness in you, my dear.’

  Surprised by the insight of the woman, Eliza said, ‘I have unfinished business in Maiden’s Creek, Mrs Wallace.’

  ‘Then you must see to that business, Miss Penrose. If the position remains unfilled when it has reached a satisfactory conclusion, then it is yours.’

  Eliza rose to her feet and held out her hand. ‘Thank you, Mrs Wallace. I will let you know.’

  Despite her exhaustion, Eliza lay awake long into the night, listening to the sounds of the city around her, so different from the steady beat of the Maiden’s Creek stampers. She had wanted desperately to believe some good of her uncle but the evidence of her eyes, the forged signature on the will, told their own story.

  She rolled onto her side and drew her knees up to her chest. The betrayal of Will and herself was so raw she wanted to rush back to Maiden’s Creek and confront Cowper about his perfidy, but Mr Kennedy had been right: she had to build the evidence for her case first.

  Forgery. She turned the word over in her mind. Where had she heard the word ‘forger’ in her time at Maiden’s Creek?

  She was just beginning to doze when it came to her.

  Tom Harris had said, ‘I hear things. No one pays me much mind so I hears what they say and I heard Mr Tehan telling the master his da were a forger.’

  Tehan’s father had been a forger. Had he taught his son some of the tricks of the trade?

  As if the forged will were not enough, there were the stolen plans and, most devastating, the increasingly suspicious circumstances of her brother’s death.

  Tehan and Cowper … Whichever way she looked at it, the two names seemed to go together. She had no choice—she had to return to Maiden’s Creek.

  Twenty-Three

  31 July 1873

  Alec McLeod did not make a good patient. Unfortunately, it took a few days for the dizziness to subside and Alec found he could not stand upright for more than a few minutes without the world coming up to meet him. The doctor seemed unconcerned and told him it would pass, it just needed time and rest.

  In the meanwhile, the number of explosions coming from the mine during the week concerned him. The practice had always been to spend the week preparing the face of the mine wall and laying the explosives to go off on Saturday. That gave Sunday for the dust to settle ready for extraction and clearance to start on Monday. It was a well-tried and relatively safe routine.

  Ian reported that Cowper was in a foul mood and anyone with any sense avoided him. He had Trevalyn in his office on several occasions but Ian had not been able to make out what was said and, as Cowper appeared to be going out of his way to find fault with Ian’s work, he judged it prudent to keep his head down. Like Alec, he had noticed the explosions but when he asked the miners they just shook their heads.

  Despite Dr Sims’s strongly voiced protests, on the Thursday after the hold-up, Alec donned his heavy coat and boots and stomped through the rain up the hill to the mine. A quick inspection confirmed his growing concern. Stooped over in a tunnel that did not have the height to accommodate him, Alec made quick notes. In his short absence the work on the deep lead had progressed faster than he would have considered prudent, the mine workings hastily shored up with the sugar gum props, and the explosives team were already preparing holes in the wall that were too shallow to be truly effective. Even more worrying was the water ingress. They were at creek level and the continual rain meant the groundwater was rising. It pooled at his feet, several inches deep.

  ‘This is wrong, Trevalyn.’

  ‘Cowper’s orders,’ Trevalyn said. ‘He wants at least two breakthroughs a week. You’re the one who has to have it out with him. He won’t listen to me. I just have to do the best I can.’

  Alec stormed into Cowper’s office without waiting to be invited. He found the mine manager in earnest conversation with Jack Tehan. Both men looked up, startled, as the door banged open.

  ‘Tehan!’ The lump on the side of his head throbbed, reminding him who he suspected of being responsible for the hold-up. ‘Just the man I want to talk to.’

  The Tasmanian rose to his feet. ‘I heard about the incident on the road, McLeod. How’s the head?’

  Alec touched the still tender but healing wound above his right ear. ‘Fine,’ Alec snapped. ‘No thanks to you.’

  ‘Me? I had nothing to do with it.’

  ‘No? It was your men, wasn’t it? I recognised that thug with the black beard.’

  ‘So Maidment said, but Jennings is long gone. If he’s chosen to take to the road, it’s nothing to do with me.’

  ‘It’s everything to do with you, Tehan. Where are Will Penrose’s plans?’

  ‘What are you implying, McLeod?’

  ‘I’m saying that you staged the hold-up to get Will Penrose’s plans for a new boiler.’

  ‘Mind what you’re saying, McLeod,’ Cowper said. ‘You can’t go making allegations like that.’ He jerked his head at the door. ‘Leave us, Tehan. We’ll talk later.’

  Tehan had to pass Alec to reach the door and as he did so, Alec grabbed his sleeve. ‘Do you know what Jennings could have done to Eliza?
’

  Tehan looked at him with what seemed to be genuine bemusement. ‘I told you, I had nothing to do with it, McLeod. Now unhand me.’

  Alec released his grip and watched as Tehan left the building, slamming the door behind him.

  Ian looked up from his ledger and his hand moved in the sign they had developed between them for What’s happening?

  Alec shook his head as Cowper closed the door.

  ‘You know, I thought it might be to my advantage to have a company clerk who is deaf, but it seems I underestimated your brother.’

  ‘Everyone underestimates him,’ Alec said.

  ‘And you, McLeod.’ Cowper moved behind his desk. ‘My niece has, as you know, returned to Melbourne, and I hope that will be the end of her meddling and poking her nose into matters which are none of her business. Grief clouds a person’s judgement. I would not like to see you and Ian make the mistake of seeing shadows and conspiracies where there are none.’

  Alec controlled his anger with difficulty. ‘If there is no gold at Shenandoah, then why are you still wasting your efforts up there?’

  ‘As I have repeatedly told Eliza, I feel I am honour-bound to do so until the Hunts are in a position to make a decision on the future of the mine,’ Cowper said. ‘Penrose knew the mine would just be an anvil on his sister’s back so he left his interest to me. Plain and simple. The will is quite legal and duly proved. Do we understand each other, McLeod?’

  Alec bit back the retort that rose to his lips and changed the subject. ‘I have a more immediate concern, Cowper. The deep lead … we’re progressing too fast and we’ve a problem with water ingress.’

  ‘Just get some more pumps down there,’ Cowper said. ‘The shareholders are getting anxious. They are beginning to see some return on their investment, and are keen for more. I’ve assured them there is good gold-bearing quartz in the deep lead and I want it out as soon as possible. You are moving too slowly.’

  ‘I will not risk the safety of the miners.’

  ‘McLeod!’ Cowper stood nearly a head shorter than Alec but he seemed to inflate with anger. ‘You forget yourself. I have overlooked your unfortunate liaison with my niece and I will excuse your impertinence today on account of your recent injury, but don’t ever presume to come in here and tell me my business again, or you—and your brother—can find yourself other employment. Without references.’

  ‘My brother is as fine a bookkeeper as you will find anywhere, Cowper.’

  ‘Then he should learn to keep his mouth shut.’

  As if conscious he was being talked about, Ian, in the outer office, raised his head, his brow furrowed as he cast his brother another questioning glance.

  ‘You can threaten me all you like,’ Alec said, ‘but not my brother.’

  ‘Get back to work. I want my orders carried out, or …’

  ‘Or?’

  ‘I will be looking for a new mine superintendent.’

  Alec gave a hollow laugh. ‘Good luck with your search, Cowper. There aren’t that many of us. Unless you are thinking of Tehan?’

  ‘Get out.’

  Alec slammed out of the office, causing the glass panes to rattle.

  Ian slipped off his stool and caught him by the arm. ‘What was that about?’

  ‘Nothing. Professional disagreement. Get back to work, Ian. Don’t give the man the satisfaction of finding an excuse to fire you.’

  ‘Fire me? Why?’

  ‘We’ll talk tonight.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Down the mine. I have to see what can be done to ensure the men’s safety and get the water out of the workings.’

  Alec spent a frustrating day trying to rectify Cowper’s meddling. In addition to substituting the reliable Huon pine for the brittle sugar gum, Cowper had increased the spacing between the supports. Alec got home late, covered in mud, exhausted from the effort of trying to bring some sense to Cowper’s orders.

  ‘I think Cowper knows,’ he told Ian as he choked down dinner.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘That we suspect him of stealing the gold from the Shenandoah.’

  Ian paled. ‘What’s he going to do?’

  ‘He’s warned me off. Behave or we both lose our jobs.’ He rubbed his hand over his eyes. His head throbbed. ‘I’m sorry, Ian. I should never have involved you.’

  ‘I involved myself,’ Ian said. ‘But Eliza has gone and we have to survive in this town. It’s nothing to do with us. Perhaps Cowper is right, we should just—’

  ‘Just forget what we know? Forget that the man is no better than a thief? Forget that he is quite possibly a murderer?’

  Ian looked at the floor.

  Alec pushed back from the table and circled it, laying a hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘Sorry, Ian,’ he murmured, knowing Ian would sense rather than hear the words. He squatted beside the younger man, forcing him to look at him. ‘You’re right, it’s nothing to do with us.’

  ‘But we just wanted to help Eliza,’ Ian said.

  ‘And we’ve done all we can. I have enough problems at the mine without worrying about things I have no control over.’

  Ian studied his brother’s face for a long moment. ‘Do you love her?’

  Alec tried to laugh but there was no humour in his heart, just an aching loneliness. He shrugged and straightened, going in search of the whisky bottle.

  Ian pushed his chair back and caught the bottle as Alec lifted it from the cupboard. ‘This is not the answer to your problems, Alec.’

  ‘Aye, but it numbs the pain.’ He wrestled the bottle from his brother’s grip and set it down on the table. Placing both hands on the table top, he looked up at his brother. ‘You asked if I love her and the answer is I don’t know.’

  Ian touched his arm. ‘Yes, you do.’

  ‘For all the good it’ll do me. She’s in Melbourne and I’m here. No, best I forget her.’ He picked up the bottle. ‘And this helps.’

  Ian shook his head. ‘Don’t give up, Alec.’

  ‘Aye, well, you’d know all about love. How are things with Miss Susan Mackie?”

  Ian blushed and Alec clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Don’t presume to lecture me on love, little brother.’

  Long after the light beneath Ian’s door had been extinguished, Alec remained by the dying embers of the fire, Windlass on his knee and the bottle of whisky beside him. Ian had seen what he had been denying to himself. There was so much he wanted to say to Eliza: how much he missed her; how he wanted to hold her again; to feel her heart beating against his; and above all, the ache of his own loneliness.

  Twenty-Four

  28 July–29 July 1873

  Over the next three days, the rain continued and Maiden’s Creek rose, overflowing its banks and sloshing over the ramshackle bridges. Down in the mine, the pumps were working at their maximum to keep the water level manageable but it left the men working in ankle-deep mud and slush in the deep lead.

  Alec had ordered extra shoring for the new area but he had to make do with the brittle sugar gum, not the sturdy Huon or even the mountain ash he needed so badly. To compensate, he placed the posts closer together, prompting an angry tirade from Cowper about the cost of the timber and a forceful directive to space the props further apart, which he ignored.

  On the positive side, the quartz seam they were following had begun to show some genuine promise, with the glint of gold visible in the light of the lantern Trevalyn held up to inspect the exposed rock face. He ran his hand along the tell-tale line of yellow, glinting in the light. ‘That’ll please Cowper.’

  ‘Aye, but we’ll leave it till morning before we tell him. I want to be sure this part of the lead is secure before we go blowing any more of it.’

  Trevalyn nodded and the two men parted.

  Dark clouds hung over the town, obscuring the tops of the hills around them as Alec walked up the hill to the mine the next morning. He found Trevalyn deep in conversation with Cowper at the entrance to the mine adit
.

  ‘Ah, McLeod.’ The mine manager had a glint in his eye that Alec did not like. ‘I’ve just been down to the workings. Trevalyn has shown me the gold in the seam we are following. Good solid gold. I want it out.’

  Alec cast his foreman a sharp glance. ‘We need to move carefully. The rock in that area is unstable.’

  ‘Nonsense. That face is to be blown today.’

  Alec bridled. ‘It’s not ready to be blown. We need another day at least.’

  ‘Today, McLeod.’

  Alec turned to Trevalyn. ‘Back me up, Trevalyn.’

  ‘Whatever the boss wants,’ the foreman mumbled.

  Finding no support, Alec turned back to Cowper. ‘The holes aren’t deep enough to set the explosives yet.’

  ‘Then make them deep enough,’ Cowper said and stalked off, avoiding the puddles that had formed in the courtyard.

  Alec glanced at the mine manager’s office, anger and frustration rising in his chest. ‘You’d think he didn’t care about the safety of the mine. And you—you know what he’s asking is dangerous.’

  Trevalyn licked his lips and his eyes slid sideways. ‘I’ve a wife and three children, McLeod. I need this job.’

  ‘So I’m on my own,’ Alec said, fixing his gaze on the administration building.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Try to reason with him.’

  Trevalyn placed a warning hand on his sleeve. ‘If you see him now, you’ll say something you’ll regret.’

  ‘My father died in a mine, Trevalyn. I won’t have the mine’s safety compromised for one man’s greed.’ He shook off the warning hand and stormed into Cowper’s office, slamming the door behind him.

  Cowper rose from the desk, his face flushed. ‘I’ve told you before. You are not to enter my office without knocking,’ he roared.

  Alec leaned his hands on the desk and faced the manager across the expanse of cedar. ‘And you’re interfering in matters that you are not qualified to make decisions on.’

  ‘I’ve had years of working in mines, McLeod.’