There was great dismay at the Pactolus Mine when it became known that Vandeloup was going to leave. During his short stay he had made himself extremely popular with the men, as he always had a bright smile and a kind word for everyone, so they all felt like losing a personal friend. The only two who were unfeigningly glad at Vandeloup’s departure were Selina and McIntosh, for these two faithful hearts had seen with dismay the influence the Frenchman was gradually gaining over Madame Midas. As long as Villiers lived they felt safe, but now that he had so mysteriously disappeared, and was to all appearances dead, they dreaded lest their mistress, in a moment of infatuation, should marry her clerk. They need not, however, have been afraid, for much as Mrs Villiers liked the young Frenchman, such an idea had never entered her head, and she was far too clever a woman ever to tempt matrimony a second time, seeing how dearly it had cost her.

Madame Midas had made great efforts to find Kitty, but without success; and, in spite of all inquiries and advertisements in the papers, nothing could be discovered regarding the missing girl.

At last the time drew near for Vandeloup’s departure, when all the sensation of Kitty’s escapade and Villiers’ disappearance was swallowed up in a new event, which filled Ballarat with wonder. It began in a whisper, and grew into such a roar of astonishment that not only Ballarat, but all Victoria, knew that the far-famed Devil’s Lead had been discovered in the Pactolus claim. Yes, after years of weary waiting, after money had been swallowed up in apparently useless work, after sceptics had sneered and friends laughed, Madame Midas obtained her reward. The Devil’s Lead was discovered, and she was now a millionaire.

For some time past McIntosh had not been satisfied with the character of the ground in which he had been working, so abandoning the shaft he was then in, he had opened up another gallery to the west, at right angles from the place where the famous nugget had been found. The wash was poor at first, but McIntosh persevered, having an instinct that he was on the right track. A few weeks’ work proved that he was right, for the wash soon became richer; and as they went farther on towards the west, following the gutter, there was no doubt that the long-lost Devil’s Lead had been struck. The regular return had formerly been five ounces to the machine, but now the washing up invariably gave twenty ounces, and small nuggets of water-worn gold were continually found in the three machines. The main drive following the lead still continued dipping westward, and McIntosh now commenced blocking and putting in side galleries, expecting when this was done he would thoroughly prove the Devil’s Lead, for he was quite satisfied he was on it. Even now the yield was three hundred and sixty ounces a week, and after deducting working expenses, this gave Madame Midas a weekly income of one thousand one hundred pounds, so she now began to see what a wealthy woman she was likely to be. Everyone unfeigningly rejoiced at her good fortune, and said that she deserved it. Many thought that now she was so rich Villiers would come back again, but he did not put in an appearance, and it was generally concluded he had left the colony.

Vandeloup congratulated Madame Midas on her luck when he was going away, and privately determined that he would not lose sight of her, as, being a wealthy woman, and having a liking for him, she would be of great use. He took his farewell gracefully, and went away, carrying the good wishes of all the miners; but McIntosh and Selina, still holding to their former opinion, were secretly pleased at his departure. Madame Midas made him a present of a hundred pounds, and, though he refused it, saying that he had money from France, she asked him as a personal favour to take it; so M. Vandeloup, always gallant to ladies, could not refuse. He went in to Ballarat, and put up at the Wattle Tree Hotel, intending to start for the metropolis next morning; but on his way, in order to prepare Kitty for his coming, sent a telegram for her, telling her the train he would arrive by, in order that she might be at the station to meet him.

After his dinner he suddenly recollected that he still had the volume which Dr Gollipeck had lent him, so, calling a cab, he drove to the residence of that eccentric individual to return it.

When the servant announced M. Vandeloup, she pushed him in and suddenly closed the door after her, as though she was afraid of some of the doctor’s ideas getting away.

‘Good evening, doctor,’ said Vandeloup, laying the book down on the table at which Gollipeck was seated; ‘I’ve come to return you this and say good-bye.’

‘Aha, going away?’ asked Gollipeck, leaning back in his chair, and looked sharply at the young man through his spectacles, ‘right — see the world — you’re clever — won’t go far wrong — no!’

‘It doesn’t matter much if I do,’ replied Vandeloup, shrugging his shoulders, and taking a chair, ‘nobody will bother much about me.’

‘Eh!’ queried the doctor, sharply, sitting up. ‘Paris — friends — relations.’

‘My only relation is an aunt with a large family; she’s got quite enough to do looking after them, without bothering about me,’ retorted M. Vandeloup; ‘as to friends — I haven’t got one.’

‘Oh!’ from Gollipeck, with a cynical smile, ‘I see; let us say — acquaintances.’

‘Won’t make any difference,’ replied Vandeloup, airily; ‘I turned my acquaintances into friends long ago, and then borrowed money off them; result: my social circle is nil. Friends,’ went on M. Vandeloup, reflectively, ‘are excellent as friends, but damnable as bankers.’

Gollipeck chuckled, and rubbed his hands, for this cynicism pleased him. Suddenly his eye caught the book which the young man had returned.

‘You read this?’ he said, laying his hand on it; ‘good, eh?’

‘Very good, indeed,’ returned M. Vandeloup, smoothly; ‘so kind of you to have lent it to me — all those cases quoted were known to me.’

‘The case of Adele Blondet, for instance, eh?’ asked the old man sharply.

‘Yes, I was present at the trial,’ replied Vandeloup, quietly; ‘the prisoner Octave Braulard was convicted, condemned to death, reprieved, and sent to New Caledonia.’

‘Where he now is,’ said Gollipeck, quickly, looking at him.

‘I presume so,’ replied Vandeloup, lazily. ‘After the trial I never bothered my head about him.’

‘He poisoned his mistress, Adele Blondet,’ said the doctor.

‘Yes,’ answered Vandeloup, leaning forward and looking at Gollipeck, ‘he found she was in love with an Englishman, and po............