Chapter Thirty-TwoWorking together, Patrick and Mrs Scobie brought Matilda and I home, both of us half delirious still and barely able to walk. I woke at some dark hour and sat up, tapping one finger on the wall to check it was our tent and not somewhere unfamiliar. The tent binged softly to reassure me.
My rats slept in their usual compact pile. Matilda snored gently beside me, her hair caked with ash and grime and her face as sweetly innocent as a child. Two entire golden waistcoats lay neatly stacked in one corner, fitting perfectly since they were both designed for the same man. I wondered who would claim them. Presumably a large number of people would step forward shortly.
Shouts filtered through the night from outside, either a lucky miner celebrating with friends or a mob too angr
