Letters then came regularly, month by month, and were always regularly answered,—­till a chance reader would have thought that no father and no son stood on better terms with each other.  There had been misfortunes; but the misfortunes did not seem to touch John Caldigate himself.  After three months of hard work and steady conduct Mick Maggott had broken out and had again taken to drinking champagne out of buckets.  Efforts were made, with infinite trouble, to reclaim him, which would be successful for a time,—­and then again he would slip away into the mud.  And then Shand would sometimes go into the mud with him; and Shand, when drunk, would be more unmanageable even than Mick.  And this went on till Mick had—­killed himself, and Dick Shand had disappeared.  ’I grieve for the man as for a dear friend,’ he said in one of his father’s letters; ’for he has been as true to me as steel in all things, save drink; and I feel that I have learned under him the practical work of a gold-miner as it cannot be learned except by the unwearied attention of the teacher.  Could he have kept from spirits, this man would have made a large fortune and would have deserved it; for he was indefatigable and never-ending in resources.’  Such was the history of poor Mick Maggott.

And Shand’s history was told also.  Shand strayed away to Queensland, and then returning was again admitted to a certain degree of partnership, and then again fell into drink, and at last, deserting the trade of a miner, tried his hand at various kinds of work, till at last he became a simple shepherd.  From time to time Caldigate sent him money when he was in want of it, but they had not again come together as associates in their work.

All this was told in his monthly letters which came to be expected at Folking, till each letter was regarded as the rising of a new sun.  There is a style of letter-writing which seems to indicate strength of purpose and a general healthy condition on the part of the writer.  In all his letters, the son spoke of himself and his doings with confidence and serenity, somewhat surprising his father after a while by always desiring to be remembered to Mr., Mrs., and Miss Bolton.  This went on not only from month to month, but from year to year, till at the end of three years from the date at which the son had left Folking, there had come to be a complete confidence between him and his father.  John Caldigate had gone into partnership with Crinkett,—­who had indeed tried to cheat him wretchedly but had failed,—­and at that time was the manager of the Polyeuka mine.  The claim at Ahalala had been sold, and he had deserted the flashy insecurity of alluvial searchings for the fundamental security of rock-gold.  He was deep in the crushing of quartz, and understood well the meaning of two ounces to the ton,—­that glittering boast by which Crinkett had at first thought to allure him.  From time to time he sent money home, paying back to his father and to Bolton’s