The Luminaries

of his indenture was five years, and had been stamped with the Company seal. Mannering cast his eye down the document. In the box marked ‘present site of employment’ the word
Aurora
had been recently scratched out, and replaced with the words
Dream of England
.
    ‘Can’t get a bit of luck, can you?’ Mannering said. ‘That claimbelongs to me! One of mine. Belongs to me.’ He tapped himself on the chest. ‘You’re working for me again, Johnny Quee. Just like the good old days. Back when you were running rings around me with your bloody crucible, and bleeding Anna Magdalena for dust.’
    ‘You,’ said Ah Quee, massaging his ribs.
    ‘Together again,’ said Mannering grimly. ‘Dream of England, my eye. English Nightmare, more like.’
    ‘Unlucky,’ said Ah Quee.
    ‘Unlucky for you or unlucky for me?’
    Ah Quee did not reply to this, having not understood the question , and all of a sudden Mannering laughed and shook his head. ‘It’s the nature of indenture, I’m afraid, that you sign away your luck. Every chance to get lucky, you sign away. It’s the nature of any contract. A contract’s got to be fulfilled, you see: it’s got to come around on itself, sooner or later. A lucky man, I’ve always said, is a man who was lucky once, and after that, he learned a thing or two about investment. Luck only happens once and it’s always an accident when it does. It’s contracts that come back around. It’s investments and obligations; it’s paperwork; it’s business. I’ll tell you another thing I like to say. If a man wants any shot at making his fortune then he’ll never sign his name to any piece of paper that he didn’t write himself. I’ve done that, Johnny Quee. I’ve never signed my name to any contract that I didn’t write myself.’
    ‘Very good,’ said Ah Quee.
    Mannering glared at him. ‘I don’t suppose you’d be so stupid as to try and run something funny past me again. That’s twice now that you’ve tried to bet against me: once on the Aurora, and once on Anna. I’m a man who knows how to count.’
    ‘Very good,’ said Ah Quee again.
    Mannering passed the indenture back to him. ‘Well, you’ll be pleased to turn your back upon Aurora, I don’t doubt—and you needn’t worry about Dream of England. She’s as sound as a drum.’
    ‘Not a duffer?’ said Ah Quee, slyly.
    ‘Not this one,’ said Mannering. ‘I’ll give you my word on that. You’ll do all right on Dream of England. She’s been raked for nuggets, of course, but there’s plenty of dust in the tailings. Perfectfor a man like you. Someone with two eyes in his head. You won’t make a fortune on her, Johnny Quee, but who among you ever does?’
    Ah Quee nodded.
    ‘Get yourself back to Kaniere,’ said Mannering at last, and returned inside.

VENUS IN PISCES
    In which the chaplain loses his temper, and the widow loses a fight.
    ‘But who is this?’ said Lydia Wells. ‘A man of God?’
    She stood in the doorway, half-smiling, plucking at each of her fingertips in turn, to ease off her gloves; Anna and Devlin looked back at her in mute horror, as though apprehended in some gross act of fornication—though Anna was by the window, her palm still pressed flat against her breast, and Devlin was seated at the sofa, from which he now leaped up, blushing horribly.
    ‘Goodness me,’ said Lydia Wells, easing one milky hand out of her glove, and tucking it under her elbow to begin plucking off the other. ‘What a pair of sheep.’
    ‘Good morning, Mrs. Wells,’ said Devlin, finding his tongue at last. ‘My name is Cowell Devlin. I am the chaplain of the prospective gaol-house at Seaview.’
    ‘A charming introduction,’ said Lydia Wells. ‘What are you doing in my parlour?’
    ‘We were having a—theological discussion,’ said Devlin. ‘Over tea.’
    ‘You appear to have forgotten the tea.’
    ‘It’s still steeping,’ said Anna.
    ‘So it is,’ said Lydia Wells, without glancing at the tray. ‘Well, in that case, my arrival has been fortuitously timed! Anna, run andfetch another cup. I’ll join you. I have a great fondness for theological debate.’
    With a desperate look at Devlin, Anna nodded, ducked her head, and slipped out of the room.
    ‘Mrs. Wells,’ whispered Devlin quickly, as Anna’s footsteps receded down the hallway, ‘may I ask you a very odd question, while we are alone?’
    Lydia Wells smiled at him. ‘I make my living answering odd questions,’ she said, ‘and you