‘Here comes someone now,’ Betty said, pulling at her father’s sleeve. They all turned to see a portly man wearing a blue velvet waistcoat hurrying in their direction between the tents. With some difficulty, he climbed over several guy ropes and stood on the edge of the street panting heavily.

‘Glad I got to you before someone else did,’ he said between breaths. ‘Saw you come in on that wagon. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Sylvester Styles. My partners and I are about to leave camp. Off to the diggings, you see, but we still have a week left on a tent in that direction.’ He gestured vaguely over his shoulder. ‘No refunds, you understand. A whole week would go to waste unless we can find someone to take it on and pay us out.’

Frank crossed to where the man stood and shook his hand. ‘Francis Hocking, sir. Am I to understand that you have a tent for rent?’

The man shook Frank’s hand for a long time. ‘Ah! the lilt of southern England. Like music to my ears, sir. I’m a Devon man meself. Born and bred. Yes, I do have a tent. Well, not me exactly. The government has it. We were a bit rash and paid too much in advance, but the mayor of Canvas Town – that’s what we calls the government official what collects the money – told us no refunds, even though we said we was off to the diggings today. He did say that we could find someone to take on our tent and pay us out the remaining week, though.’

Annie could see her father’s head bobbing as he tried to keep up with the torrent of information. ‘We could take on your tent? How much is the rent?’

‘The government charges five shillings a week per tent. Tell you what. You take it on and you can have our remaining week for four and six. How’s that sound?’

‘Your generosity is too kind, sir,’ Frank said. ‘But I wouldn’t hear of it. I shall pay you your entire five shillings. If you still want to be charitable, maybe you can find your friends and help me move our trunks to this tent of yours? Seeing as I only have the missus and my girls.’

The handshake became more vigorous and the man nodded. ‘It’s a deal.’

Sylvester Styles disappeared between the tents and reappeared several minutes later with five men. They greeted the newcomers by touching their fingers to the brims of their hats, then they slung the trunks between them and set off with the Hocking family in tow.

The tent was about a hundred yards in from the northern edge of Canvas Town, close by the banks of the river. Annie was delighted that she was able to look across the waters into the town proper. There were men and horses and vehicles hurrying in all directions, and even women in white dresses with parasols on their shoulders moving on the streets.