Sir, we are making our fortunes.  The grain we could not sell at a fair price, we sell as bread, and higher than in England ever so much.  Tea and coffee the same; and the poor things praise us, too, for being so moderate.  So, sir, Dick bids me say that we owe this to you, and if so be you are minded to share, why nothing would please us better.  Head-piece is always worth money in these parts; and if it hurts your pride to be our partner without money, why you can throw in what you have at the Cape, though we don’t ask that.  And, besides, we are offered diamonds a bargain every day, but are afraid to deal, for want of experience; but if you were in it with us, you must know them well by this time, and we might turn many a good pound that way.  Dear sir, I hope you will not be offended, but I think this is the only way we have, Dick and I, to show our respect and good-will.

Dear sir, digging is hard work, and not fit for you and Reginald, that are gentlemen, amongst a lot of rough fellows, that their talk makes my hair stand on end, though I dare say they mean no harm.

Your bedroom is always ready, sir.  I never will let it to any of them, hoping now to see you every day.  You that know everything, can guess how I long to see you both home.  My very good fortune seems not to taste like good fortune, without those I love and esteem to share it.  I shall count how many days this letter will take to reach you, and then I shall pray for your safety harder than ever, till the blessed hour comes when I see my husband, and my good friend, never to part again, I hope, in this world.

I am sir, your dutiful servant and friend,

Phoebe Dale.

P.S.  There is regular travelling to and from Cape Town, and a post now to Pniel, but I thought it surest to send by one that knows you.

Staines read this letter with great satisfaction.  He remembered his two hundred pounds, but his gold and jewels puzzled him.  Still it was good news, and pleased him not a little.  Phoebe’s good fortune gratified him too, and her offer of a partnership, especially in the purchase of diamonds from returning diggers.  He saw a large fortune to be made; and wearied and disgusted with recent ill-luck, blear-eyed and almost blinded with sorting in the blazing sun, he resolved to go at once to Dale’s Kloof.  Should Mrs. Falcon be gone to England with the diamonds, he would stay there, and Rosa should come out to him, or he would go and fetch her.

He went home, and washed himself, and told Bulteel he had had good news, and should leave the diggings at once.  He gave him up the claim, and told him to sell it by auction.  It was worth two hundred pounds still.  The good people sympathized with him, and he started within an hour.  He left his pickaxe and shovel, and took only his double rifle, an admirable one, some ammunition, including conical bullets and projectile shells given him by Falcon, a bag full of carbuncles and garnets he had collected for Ucatella, a few small diamonds, and one hundred pounds,—­all that remained to him, since he had been paying wages and other things for months, and had given Falcon twenty for his journey.