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W. Hornung + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: At Large + +Author: E. W. Hornung + +Release Date: March 26, 2011 [EBook #35684] +[Last updated: March 6, 2015] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT LARGE *** + + + + +Produced by Ernest Schaal, Beginners Projects and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.png" alt="Book cover" title="Book cover" /> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<div class="bbox"> +<p class="h1a"><span class="smcap">Other Books by Mr. Hornung</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="hangindent">THE AMATEUR CRACKSMAN. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">RAFFLES. <span class="smcap">More Adventures of the +Amateur Cracksman.</span> Illustrated by +<span class="smcap">F. C. Yohn</span>. $1.50.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">PECCAVI. <span class="smcap">A Novel.</span> $1.50.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE SHADOW OF A MAN. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES. <span class="smcap">A +Novel.</span> $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">SOME PERSONS UNKNOWN. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">YOUNG BLOOD. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">MY LORD DUKE. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE ROGUE'S MARCH. <span class="smcap">A Romance.</span> +$1.50.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE BOSS OF TAROOMBA. [<i>Ivory +Series.</i>] 16mo. $0.75.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">A BRIDE FROM THE BUSH. [<i>Ivory +Series.</i>] 16mo. $0.75.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">IRRALIE'S BUSHRANGER. <span class="smcap">A Story +of Australian Adventure.</span> [<i>Ivory +Series.</i>] 16mo. $0.75.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<h1>AT LARGE</h1> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<div class="bbox2"><p class="h1">AT LARGE</p> + +<p class="h2"><i>A NOVEL</i></p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">by</span><br /> +E. W. HORNUNG</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br /> +NEW YORK ::::::::::::::::: 1902</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p class="cnobmargin"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1902, by</span><br /> +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</p> + +<hr class="hr1"/> + +<p class="cnotmargin"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Published February</span>, 1902</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="indent"> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">trow directory<br /> +printing and bookbinding company<br /> +new york</span></p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p class="right">Page</p> + +<ul class="TOCR"> +<li>A Nucleus of Fortune <span class="ralign"><a href="#I">1</a></span></li> + +<li>Sundown <span class="ralign"><a href="#II">11</a></span></li> + +<li>After Four Years <span class="ralign"><a href="#III">20</a></span></li> + +<li>How Dick Came Home <span class="ralign"><a href="#IV">28</a></span></li> + +<li>The First Evening at Graysbrooke <span class="ralign"><a href="#V">41</a></span></li> + +<li>Sisyphus <span class="ralign"><a href="#VI">53</a></span></li> + +<li>South Kensington <span class="ralign"><a href="#VII">64</a></span></li> + +<li>The Admirable Miles <span class="ralign"><a href="#VIII">72</a></span></li> + +<li>A Dancing Lesson and its Consequences <span class="ralign"><a href="#IX">86</a></span></li> + +<li>An Old Friend and an Old Memory <span class="ralign"><a href="#X">98</a></span></li> + +<li>Dressing, Dancing, Looking on <span class="ralign"><a href="#XI">109</a></span></li> + +<li>"To-Morrow, and To-Morrow, and To-Morrow" <span class="ralign"><a href="#XII">123</a></span></li> + +<li>In Bushey Park <span class="ralign"><a href="#XIII">132</a></span></li> + +<li>Quits <span class="ralign"><a href="#XIV">152</a></span></li> + +<li>The Morning After <span class="ralign"><a href="#XV">163</a></span></li> + +<li>Military Manœuvres <span class="ralign"><a href="#XVI">174</a></span></li> + +<li>"Miles's Beggars" <span class="ralign"><a href="#XVII">185</a></span></li> + +<li>Alice Speaks for Herself <span class="ralign"><a href="#XVIII">196</a></span></li> + +<li>Conterminous Courses <span class="ralign"><a href="#XIX">206</a></span></li> + +<li>Strange Humility <span class="ralign"><a href="#XX">216</a></span></li> + +<li>An Altered Man <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXI">227</a></span></li> + +<li>Extremities <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXII">234</a></span></li> + +<li>The Effect of a Photograph <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXIII">244</a></span></li> + +<li>The Effect of a Song <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXIV">256</a></span></li> + +<li>Melmerbridge Church <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXV">271</a></span></li> + +<li>At Bay <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXVI">286</a></span></li> + +<li>The Fatal Tress <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXVII">296</a></span></li> + +<li>The Effort <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXVIII">307</a></span></li> + +<li>Elizabeth Ryan <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXIX">313</a></span></li> + +<li>Sweet Revenge <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXX">325</a></span></li> + +<li>The Charity of Silence <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXXI">333</a></span></li> + +<li>Suspense: Reaction <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXXII">343</a></span></li> + +<li>How Dick Said Good-Bye <span class="ralign"><a href="#XXXIII">353</a></span></li> +</ul> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p class="h1a">AT LARGE</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 1]</span></p> + +<p class="h1a"><a name="I" id="I"></a>At Large</p> + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p class="h2a">A NUCLEUS OF FORTUNE</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">A hooded</span> wagon was creeping across a depressing +desert in the middle of Australia; layers of boxes under +the hood, and of brass-handled, mahogany drawers +below the boxes, revealed the licensed hawker of the +bush. Now, the hawker out there is a very extensive +development of his prototype here at home; he is +Westbourne Grove on wheels, with the prices of Piccadilly, +W. But these particular providers were neither +so universal nor so exorbitant as the generality of +their class. There were but two of them; they drove +but two horses; and sat shoulder to shoulder on the +box.</p> + +<p class="indent">The afternoon was late; all day the horses had been +crawling, for the track was unusually heavy. There +had been recent rains; red mud clogged the wheels at +every yard, and clung to them in sticky tires. Little +pools had formed all over the plain; and westward, on +the off-side of the wagon, these pools caught the glow +of the setting sun, and filled with flame. Far over the +horses' ears a long low line of trees was visible; otherwise +the plain was unbroken; you might ride all day +on these plains and descry no other horse nor man.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 2]</span> +The pair upon the box were partners. Their names +were Flint and Edmonstone. Flint was enjoying a +senior partner's prerogative, and lolling back wreathed +in smoke. His thick bare arms were idly folded. He +was a stout, brown, bearded man, who at thirty looked +many years older; indolence, contentment, and goodwill +were written upon his face.</p> + +<p class="indent">The junior partner was driving, and taking some +pains about it—keeping clear of the deep ruts, and +pushing the pace only where the track was good. He +looked twenty years Flint's junior, and was, in fact, +just of age. He was strongly built and five-feet-ten, +with honest gray eyes, fair hair, and an inelastic +mouth.</p> + +<p class="indent">Both of these men wore flannel shirts, buff cord +trousers, gray felt wideawakes; both were public-school +men, drawn together in the first instance by +that mutually surprising fact, and for the rest as different +as friends could be. Flint had been ten years +in the Colonies, Edmonstone not quite ten weeks. +Flint had tried everything, and failed; Edmonstone +had everything before him, and did not mean to fail. +Flint was experienced, Edmonstone sanguine; things +surprised Edmonstone, nothing surprised Flint. Edmonstone +had dreams of the future, and golden +dreams; Flint troubled only about the present, and +that very little. In fine, while Edmonstone saw licensed +hawking leading them both by a short cut to +fortune, and earnestly intended that it should, Flint +said they would be lucky if their second trip was as +successful as their first, now all but come to an end.</p> + +<p class="indent">The shadow of horses and wagon wavered upon the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 3]</span> +undulating plain as they drove. The shadows grew +longer and longer; there was a noticeable change in +them whenever young Edmonstone bent forward to +gaze at the sun away to the right, and then across at +the eastern sky already tinged with purple; and that +was every five minutes.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It will be dark in less than an hour," the lad exclaimed +at last, in his quick, anxious way; "dark just +as we reach the scrub; we shall have no moon until +eleven or so, and very likely not strike the river to-night."</p> + +<p class="indent">The sentences were punctuated with sharp cracks +of the whip. An answer came from Edmonstone's +left, in the mild falsetto that contrasted so queerly with +the bodily bulk of Mr. John Flint, and startled all who +heard him speak for the first time.</p> + +<p class="indent">"My good fellow, I implore you again to spare the +horseflesh and the whipcord—both important items—and +take it easy like me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Jack," replied Edmonstone warmly, "you know +well enough why I want to get to the Murrumbidgee +to-night. No? Well, at all events, you own that we +should lose no time about getting to some bank or +other?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, on the whole. But I don't see the good of +hurrying on now to reach the township at an unearthly +hour, when all the time we might camp in comfort +anywhere here. To my mind, a few hours, or even a +night or two, more or less——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Are neither here nor there? Exactly!" broke in +Edmonstone, with increasing warmth. "Jack, Jack! +the days those very words cost us! Add them up—subtract +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 4]</span> +them from the time we've been on the roads—and +we'd have been back a week ago at least. I +shall have no peace of mind until I step out of the +bank, and that's the truth of it." As he spoke, the +fingers of Edmonstone's right hand rested for a moment, +with a curious, involuntary movement, upon his +right breast.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I can see that," returned Flint, serenely. "The +burden of riches, you see—and young blood! When +you've been out here as long as I have, you'll take +things easier, my son."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You don't understand my position," said Edmonstone. +"You laugh when I tell you I came out here +to make money: all the same, I mean to do it. I own +I had rotten ideas about Australia—all new chums +have. But if I can't peg out my claim and pick up +nuggets, I'm going to do the next best thing. It may +be hawking and it may not. I mean to see. But we +must give the thing a chance, and not run unnecessary +risks with the gross proceeds of our very first +trip. A hundred and thirty pounds isn't a fortune; +but it may be the nucleus of one; and it's all we've got +between us in this world meanwhile."</p> + +<p class="indent">"My dear old boy, I'm fully alive to it. I only +don't see the point of finishing the trip at a gallop."</p> + +<p class="indent">"The point is that our little all is concealed about +my person," said Edmonstone, grimly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"And my point is that it and we are absolutely safe. +How many more times am I to tell you so?" And +there was a squeak of impatience in the absurd falsetto +voice, followed by clouds of smoke from the +bearded lips.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 5]</span> +Edmonstone drove some distance without a word.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yet only last week," he remarked at length, "a +store was stuck up on the Darling!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What of that?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"The storekeeper was robbed of every cent he +had."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I know."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yet they shot him dead in the end."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And they'll swing for it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Meanwhile they've shown clean heels, and nobody +knows where they are—or are not."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Consequently you expect to find them waiting for +us in the next clump, eh?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, I don't. I only deny that we are absolutely +safe."</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint knocked out his pipe with sudden energy.</p> + +<p class="indent">"My dear boy," cried he, "have I or have I not +been as many years out here as you've been weeks? +I tell you I was in the mounted police, down in Vic, +all through the Kelly business; joined in the hunt myself; +and back myself to know a real bushranger when +I see him or read about him. This fellow who has +the cheek to call himself Sundown is not a bushranger +at all; he and his mates are mere robbers and murderers. +Ned Kelly didn't go shooting miserable storekeepers; +and he was the last of the bushrangers, and +is likely to remain the last. Besides, these chaps will +streak up-country, not down; but, if it's any comfort +to you, see here," and Flint pocketed his pipe, made +a long arm overhead and reached a Colt's revolver +from a hook just inside the hood of the wagon, "let +this little plaything reassure you. What, didn't you +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 6]</span> +know I was a dead shot with this? My dear chap, I +wasn't in the mounted police for nothing. Why, I +could pick out your front teeth at thirty yards and +paint my name on your waistcoat at twenty!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint stroked the glittering barrel caressingly, and +restored the pistol to its hook: there was a cartridge +in every chamber.</p> + +<p class="indent">The other said nothing for a time, but was more in +earnest than ever when he did speak.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Jack," said he, "I can only tell you this: if we +were to lose our money straight away at the outset I +should be a lost man. How could we go on without +it—hawking with an empty wagon? How could I +push, push, push—as I've got to—after losing all to +start with? A hundred pounds! It isn't much, but it +is everything to me—everything. Let me only keep +it a bit and it shall grow under my eyes. Take it away +from me and I am done for—completely done for."</p> + +<p class="indent">He forgot that he was using the first person singular +instead of plural; it had become natural to him +to think out the business and its possibilities in this +way, and it was no less in Flint's nature to see no +selfishness in his friend's speech. Flint only said +solemnly:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You shouldn't think so much about money, old +chap."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Money and home!" exclaimed Dick Edmonstone +in a low, excited tone. "Home and money! +It's almost all I do think about."</p> + +<p class="indent">Jack Flint leaned forward, and narrowly scanned +the face of his friend; then lay back again, with a +light laugh of forced cheerfulness.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 7]</span> +"Why, Dick, you speak as though you had been +exiled for years, and it's not three months since you +landed."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick started. It already seemed years to him.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Besides," continued the elder man, "I protest +against any man growing morbid who can show a +balance-sheet like ours. As to home-sickness, wait +until you have been out here ten years; wait until you +have tried digging, selecting, farming, droving; wait +until you have worn a trooper's uniform and a counter +jumper's apron, and ridden the boundaries at a +pound a week, and tutored Young Australia for your +rations. When you have tried all these things—and +done no good at any of 'em, mark you—then, if you +like, turn home-sick."</p> + +<p class="indent">The other did not answer. Leaning forward, he +whipped up the horses, and gazed once more towards +the setting sun. His companion could not see his +face; but trouble and anxiety were in that long, steady, +westward gaze. He was very young, this lad Edmonstone—young +even for his years. Unlike his +mate, his thoughts were all of the past and of the +future; both presented happy pictures; so happy that +his mind would fly from the one to the other without +touching the present. And so he thought now, gazing +westward, of home, and of something sweeter than +home itself; and he blended that which had gone before +with that which was yet to come; and so wonderful +was the harmony between these two that to-day +was entirely forgotten. Then the sun swung half-way +below the dark line of the horizon; a golden pathway +shone across the sandy track right to the wheels of +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 8]</span> +the wagon; the dark line of scrub, now close at hand, +looked shadowy and mysterious; the sunset colours +declared themselves finally in orange and pink and +gray, before the spreading purple caught and swallowed +them. The dreamer's face grew indistinct, but +his golden dreams were more vivid than before.</p> + +<p class="indent">A deadly stillness enveloped the plain, making all +sounds staccato: the rhythmical footfall of the horses, +the hoarse notes of crows wheeling through the twilight +like uncanny heralds of night, the croaking of +crickets in the scrub ahead.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was recalled to the antipodes by a mild query +from his mate.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Are you asleep, driver?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You haven't noticed any one ahead of us this afternoon +on horseback?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No; why?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Because here are some one's tracks," said Flint, +pointing to a fresh horse-trail on the side of the road.</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone stretched across to look. It was difficult +in the dusk to distinguish the trail, which was +the simple one of a horse walking.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I saw no one," he said; "but during the last hour +it would have been impossible to see any one, as close +to the scrub as we are now. Whoever it is, he must +have struck the track hereabouts somewhere, or we +should have seen his trail before sundown."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Whoever it is," said Flint, "we shall see him in a +minute. Don't you hear him? He is still at a walk."</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone listened, and the measured beat of +hoofs grew upon his ear; another moment and a horseman's +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 9]</span> +back was looming through the dusk—very +broad and round, with only the crown of a wideawake +showing above the shoulders. As the wagon drew +abreast his horse was wheeled to one side, and a +hearty voice hailed the hawkers:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Got a match, mateys? I've used my last, and I'm +just weakening for a smoke."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Here's my box," said Dick, pulling up. "Take +as many as you like."</p> + +<p class="indent">And he dropped his match-box into a great fat hand +with a wrist like a ship's cable, and strong stumpy +fingers: it was not returned until a loaded pipe was +satisfactorily alight; and as the tobacco glowed in the +bowl the man's face glowed in company. It was huge +like himself, and bearded to the eyes, which were singularly +small and bright, and set very close together.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I don't like that face," said Dick when the fellow +had thanked him with redoubled heartiness, and ridden +on.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It looked good-natured."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was and it wasn't. I don't want to see it again; +but I shall know it if ever I do. I had as good a look +at him as he had at us."</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint made no reply; they entered the forest of low-sized +malee and pine in silence.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Jack," gasped Edmonstone, very suddenly, after +half-an-hour, "there's some one galloping in the scrub +somewhere—can't you hear?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Eh?" said Flint, waking from a doze.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Some one's galloping in the scrub—can't you hear +the branches breaking? Listen."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I hear nothing."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 10]</span> +"Listen again."</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint listened intently.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes—no. I thought for an instant—but no, there +is no sound now."</p> + +<p class="indent">He was right: there was no sound then, and he was +somewhat ruffled.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What are you giving us, Dick? If you will push +on, why, let's do it; only we do one thing or the other."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick whipped up the horses without a word. For +five minutes they trotted on gamely; then, without +warning, they leaped to one side with a shy that half-overturned +the wagon.</p> + +<p class="indent">Side by side, and motionless in the starlight, sat two +shadowy forms on horseback, armed with rifles, and +masked to the chin.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Hands up," cried one of them, "or we plug."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 11]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + +<p class="h2a">SUNDOWN</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">There</span> was no time for thought, much less for +action, beyond that taken promptly by Flint, who shot +his own hands above his head without a moment's +hesitation, and whispered to Dick to do the same. +Any other movement would have been tantamount to +suicide. Yet it was with his eyes open and his head +cool that Flint gave the sign of submission.</p> + +<p class="indent">The horsemen sat dark and motionless as the trees +of the sleeping forest around them. They were contemplating +the completeness of their triumph, grinning +behind their masks.</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint saw his chance. Slowly, very slowly, his left +arm, reared rigidly above his head, swayed backward; +his body moved gently with his arm; his eyes never +left the two mysterious mounted men.</p> + +<p class="indent">He felt his middle finger crowned by a cool ring. +It was the muzzle of his precious Colt. One grasp, +and at least he would be armed.</p> + +<p class="indent">He turned his wrist for the snatch, gazing steadily +all the while at the two vague shadows of men. Another +second—and a barrel winked in the starlight, to +gleam steadily as it covered Flint's broad chest. He +who had called upon them to throw up their hands +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 12]</span> +spoke again; his voice seemed to come from the muzzle +of the levelled rifle.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Stretch an inch more, you on the near-side, and +you're the last dead man."</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint shrugged his shoulders. The game was lost. +There was no more need to lose his head than if the +game had been won. There was no need at all to lose +his life.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I give you best," said he, without the least emotion +in his extraordinary voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Fold your arms and come down," said the man +with the rifle, his finger on the trigger.</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint did as he was ordered.</p> + +<p class="indent">"The same—you with the reins."</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone's only answer was a stupefied stare.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Jump down, my friend, unless you want helping +with this."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick obeyed apathetically; he was literally dazed. +At a sign from the man with the rifle he took his stand +beside Flint; three paces in front of the luckless pair +shone the short barrel of the Winchester repeater. +The other robber had dismounted, and was standing +at the horses' heads.</p> + +<p class="indent">In this position, a moment's silence fell upon the +four men, to be broken by the coarse, grating laughter +of a fifth. Edmonstone turned his head, saw another +horseman issuing from the trees, and at once recognised +the burly figure of the traveller who had borrowed +his match-box less than an hour before. At +that moment, and not until then, Dick Edmonstone +realised the situation. It was desperate; all was lost! +The lad's brain spun like a top: reason fled from it; +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 13]</span> +his hand clutched nervously at the pocket where the +money was, and he swore in his heart that if that went, +his life might go with it.</p> + +<p class="indent">In another instant the hairy ruffian had ridden his +horse close up to Edmonstone, whipped his foot from +the stirrup, and kicked the youngster playfully in the +chest—on that very spot which his thoughtless gesture +had betrayed.</p> + +<p class="indent">At this the other bushrangers set up a laugh—a +short one.</p> + +<p class="indent">With a spring like a young leopard, Dick Edmonstone +had the big horseman by the beard, and down +they came to the ground together. There, in the sand, +they rolled over each other, locked in mortal combat—writhing, +leaping, twisting, shifting—so that the leader +of the band, though he pointed his rifle at the struggling +men, dared not fire, for fear of hitting the wrong +one. But there came a moment when the struggling +ceased, when Flint sprang forward with a hoarse cry +on his lips and Sundown took careless aim with the +Winchester.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick Edmonstone was lying on his back with white, +upturned face. Two crushing weights pinned down +each arm below the shoulder; his adversary was kneeling +on him with grinding teeth and a frightful face, +and one hand busy at his belt. His hand flew up with +a gleam. It was at that moment that the man with +the rifle raised it and fired.</p> + +<p class="indent">The bearded ruffian shook his hand as though hit, +and the haft of a knife slipped from it; the bullet had +carried away the blade. With a curse he felt for his +revolver.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 14]</span> +"Don't be a fool, Jem Pound," said the marksman +quietly, lowering his smoking piece. "Before you +bring the lot of us to the gallows, I'll put a bullet +through your own fat head. Get up, you big fool! +Cut the mokes adrift, and turn everything out of the +wagon."</p> + +<p class="indent">The man Pound rose sulkily, with a curious last look +at the young Englishman's throat, and hell-fire in his +little eyes.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ben, watch this cove," the chief went on, pointing +to Flint, "and watch him with the shooter. +I'll see to the youngster myself. Come here, my +friend."</p> + +<p class="indent">The speaker was plainly no other than the rascal +who called himself Sundown; the hawkers heard the +sobriquet on the lips of the other masked man, and +their glances met. He was wrapped in a cloak that +hid him from head to heels, stooped as he walked, and +was amply masked. What struck Flint—who was +sufficiently cool to remain an attentive observer—was +the absence of vulgar bluster about this fellow; he +addressed confederates and captives alike in the same +quiet, decisive tones, without either raising his voice +to a shout or filling the air with oaths. It appeared +that Ned Kelly had not been the last of the real +bushrangers, after all.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You come along with me," said he, quietly; and +drew Dick aside, pointing at him the rifle, which he +grasped across the breech, with a finger still upon the +trigger.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Now," continued Sundown, when they had withdrawn +a few yards into the scrub, "turn out that +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 15]</span> +pocket." He tapped Edmonstone on the chest with +the muzzle of the rifle.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick folded his arms and took a short step backward.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Shoot me!" he exclaimed, looking the robber full +in the face. "Why did you save me a minute ago? +I prefer to die. Shoot me, and have done with it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Open your coat," said the bushranger.</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone tore open not only his coat, but his +shirt as well, thus baring his chest.</p> + +<p class="indent">"There. Shoot!" he repeated hoarsely.</p> + +<p class="indent">Sundown stared at the boy with a moment's curiosity, +but paid no heed to his words.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Empty that pocket."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick took out the pocket-book that contained all +the funds of the firm.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Open it."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick obeyed.</p> + +<p class="indent">"How much is in it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"A hundred and thirty pounds."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Good! Cheques!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"More notes."</p> + +<p class="indent">The robber laughed consumedly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Take them, if you are going to," said Dick, drawing +a deep breath.</p> + +<p class="indent">Sundown did take them—pocket-book and all—still +covering his man with the rifle. The moon was rising. +In the pale light the young fellow's face was +ghastly to look upon; it had the damp pallor of death +itself. The bushranger eyed it closely, and half-dropped +the bushranger's manner.</p> + +<p class="indent">"New chum, I take it!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 16]</span> +"What of that?" returned Dick bitterly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"And not long set up shop?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick made no answer. Sundown stepped forward +and gripped his shoulder.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Say, mate, is this hundred and odd quid so very +much to you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Still no answer.</p> + +<p class="indent">"On oath, now: is it so very much?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick looked up wildly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Much? It is everything. You have robbed me of +all I have! You have saved my life when I'd as soon +lose it with my money. Yes, it's all I have in the +world, since you want to know! Do you want to +madden me, you cur? Shoot me—shoot, I tell you. +If you don't I'll make you!" And the young madman +clenched his fist as he spoke.</p> + +<p class="indent">That instant he felt himself seized by the neck and +pushed forward, with a ring of cold steel pressing below +his ear.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Here you—Jem Pound—have your revenge and +bind this cub. Bind tight, but fair, for I'm watching +you."</p> + +<p class="indent">In five minutes the blood would scarcely circulate +in a dozen different parts of Edmonstone's body; he +was bound as tightly as vindictive villain could bind +him, to the off hind-wheel of his own wagon. Sundown +stood by with the rifle, and saw it done.</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint had already been bound to the near hind-wheel, +so that the partners were lashed back to back—both +able to watch their property looted at the rear of +the wagon, but unable to exchange glances.</p> + +<p class="indent">Sundown strolled about during the operation, which +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 17]</span> +his subordinates conducted with deepening disgust, +till he returned and asked what they had got.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Precious little," was the answer. "Stock sold out—boxes +mostly empty."</p> + +<p class="indent">Nevertheless some few varieties of bush merchandise +strewed the ground, and hats, boots, and pipes +were quickly selected by Jem Pound and the man addressed +as Ben; though as for Sundown, he seemed +content with a supply of smoking materials, and, indeed, +to be more or less preoccupied while the plunder +went forward. At length, at a word from him, the +other men mounted their horses, while their leader +walked round to where Flint was spread-eagled +against the wheel.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Is there anything you want before we go?" the +bushranger inquired, as civilly as you please.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," said Flint; "I want you to fill my pipe, stick +it in my mouth, and put a match to it, if you will be so +good."</p> + +<p class="indent">The other laughed, but complied with the full request +before turning his attention to young Edmonstone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"As for you," he said, "here's your pocket-book. +I couldn't take such a treasure from you. Better keep +it in memory of the fortune (the immense fortune of a +hundred and thirty pounds) it once contained. Not +that I have quite emptied it, though; I may be a devil, +but I never clean a man out quite; so you'll find +enough left to get you a night's lodging and some +tucker. And—and don't forget old Sundown altogether; +you may be able to put in a good word for +him some day!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 18]</span> +These last words, though spoken after a pause, were +thrown off lightly enough; yet somehow they were +unlike the rest that had gone before. Before their +sound had died away Sundown was in his saddle, and +the sound of horses galloping through the scrub was +growing faint and far away.</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint was the first to free himself. It took him +hours. His teeth ached, his fingers bled, before the +last knot that bound his hands was undone. His knife +quickly did the rest.</p> + +<p class="indent">He went straight to Edmonstone, who had not +spoken since the gang decamped. Flint found him +pale and cold, with a very hard expression upon his +face. Dick allowed himself to be set free without a +word—without so much as an intelligent glance.</p> + +<p class="indent">The horses could be heard munching bits of bushes +close at hand. They were easily caught. Nor was +it a difficult task to a ready-handed fellow like Flint +to splice the traces, which the bushrangers had cut.</p> + +<p class="indent">The crestfallen partners were on the point of reentering +the wagon, when Flint saw the pocket-book +lying where it had been dropped.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Better take it," said Flint sorrowfully.</p> + +<p class="indent">In utter apathy Dick picked it up.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Wouldn't you see if they've cleaned it entirely?" +suggested Flint.</p> + +<p class="indent">With listless fingers Edmonstone withdrew the elastic +and opened the pocket-book.</p> + +<p class="indent">By this time the moon had mounted high in the +clear southern sky; by her pure white rays they might +have read small print. Flint's heart smote him; it +was by his doing they had carried so many notes, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 19]</span> +through a fad of his about opening their banking account +with hard cash; at cheques the bushrangers +might easily have turned up their noses, as bushrangers +had done before. But now, as it was—poor, +poor young devil!</p> + +<p class="indent">A cry broke the silence, and rang out loud and wild +upon the still night air. It came from Flint's side. +He turned to find his companion tottering and trembling.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick Edmonstone had dropped the pocket-book, +and was nervously counting a roll of crisp, crackling +papers.</p> + +<p class="indent">"They are all here!—all! all!" he whispered in a +strange, broken voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Never!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, all—all! Only think of it; our fortune is not +lost, after all—it's made—the key to it is in my hand +again! Jack, the fellow had pity on me. No, I mean +on us. I don't mean to be selfish, Jack; it's share and +share alike, between you and me, and always will be. +But if you knew—if you knew! Jack, I'll put in that +good word for him—I'll make it more than words, if +ever I get the chance! For I do owe him something," +said the poor fellow, carried away by reaction and excitement, +so that his breaking voice trembled between +sobs and laughter. "I do owe that Sundown something. +God bless him—that's all <i>I</i> say."</p> + +<p class="indent">But Flint said nothing at all; he was much too +amazed for words.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 20]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + +<p class="h2a">AFTER FOUR YEARS</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">One</span> chilly night in June, 1886, the ship <i>Hesper</i>, +bound from Melbourne to London, sailed into the +Channel. She carried the usual wool cargo and +twenty saloon passengers besides. When the Lizard +light was sighted, the excitement—which had increased +hourly since the Western Islands were left +astern—knew no reasonable bounds. For the <i>Hesper</i> +was a hundred and eight days out; and among her +passengers were grizzled Colonists, to whom this light +was the first glimmer of England for thirty years; men +who had found in the Colonial Exhibition at South +Kensington an excuse to intrust vast flocks and herds +to the hands of overseers, and to consummate that +darling scheme of every prosperous Colonial, which +they render by their phrase "a trip home." Sweepstakes +on the date of sighting England, got up in the +tropics, were now promptly settled; quarrels begun in +the Southern Ocean were made up in the magic element +of British waters; discontent was in irons, and +joy held the ship. Far into the middle-watch festive +souls perambulated the quarter-deck with noisy expressions +of mirth, though with the conviction that the +vessel was behaving badly; whereas the vessel was a +good deal more innocent of that charge than the gentlemen +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 21]</span> +who preferred it. But even when the last of +these roysterers retired there was still one passenger +left on the poop.</p> + +<p class="indent">A young man leaned with folded arms upon the port +rail, staring out into the night. It seemed as though +his eye penetrated the darkness, and found something +bright beyond, so wistful was its gaze. One bell rang +out from the forecastle, two bells followed half an hour +later at one o'clock, but the figure of this dreamer remained +motionless. For an hour he did not stir; but, +as his imagination became more vivid, the expression +of his eyes grew softer, until their yearning melted into +a thin, thin film, and the firm lines of the mouth relaxed, +and facial creases carved by a few hard years +were smoothed away. He was only a few hours ahead +of the <i>Hesper</i> after all: she was off the Cornish coast, +and he (in fancy) far up the Thames.</p> + +<p class="indent">Three-bells aroused the dreamer. He stood upright +with a start. He passed his hand quickly across +his forehead, as if to rid his brain of weak thoughts. +He began tramping the deck rapidly. Now the whole +man was changed: his step was brisk, his frame instinct +with nervous animation, his chest swelled proudly, +his eyes sparkled with triumph. He had hung over +the rail like any sentimental home-comer; he marched +the deck like a conquering hero.</p> + +<p class="indent">Yet this was one of the youngest men on board, and +his years of absence from England were but a tithe of +some of his fellow-passengers. During a long voyage +the best and the worst of a man's character come out; +but this man's display had been less complete than +any one else's, and he was probably the better liked +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 22]</span> +on board in consequence. Though reserved and +quiet, he had, indeed without being conscious of it, +become very popular. Perhaps one factor in this was +the accidental discovery, half-way through the voyage, +that he could draw uncommonly well; for it opened up +a source of unexpected entertainment at a time when +the stock amusements of the high seas had begun to +flag. But there was one thing about him which, had +his fellow-passengers suspected it, in all probability +would have interfered considerably with his popularity: +this was the astounding fact that at the age of +twenty-five he had already made his fortune.</p> + +<p class="indent">One scene from the bush life of this exceedingly +lucky young gentleman has already been set forth. It +will be sufficient to briefly glance at the remainder of +his Colonial career, since details of unbroken success +are voted a bore by common consent.</p> + +<p class="indent">The firm of Flint and Edmonstone did well out of +licensed hawking. Perhaps their honesty—which was +as transparent as it was original in that line of business—had +much to do with their success; for although +squatters were at first sceptical of the new firm, their +eyes were at once opened to the iniquitous prices of +the Jews, who had hitherto enjoyed a monopoly of +their custom. The newcomers thus gained experimental +patronage, which they retained on their merits. +After a year they advanced a step in the mercantile +scale of the Colony: they set up a general store at a +rising settlement on the Darling. The store had not +been opened six months when the senior partner's +chequered life in the Colonies was terminated in a +manner utterly unforeseen. Word came that he had +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 23]</span> +inherited, through an accommodating series of deaths, +money and property in Ireland. It was no brilliant +heritage, but it held out advantages greater on the +whole than back-block storekeeping could be expected +to afford. Withdrawing a temperate share of the +profits, Mr. John Flint kicked the dust of the Riverina +from his long boots, and finally disappeared from the +face of the desert, and Edmonstone was left sole proprietor +of a most promising "concern."</p> + +<p class="indent">The luck that had hitherto attended him was soon +to be enhanced; for, gold being discovered close to the +little township on the Darling, a "rush" from all parts +of Australia followed. As in most similar cases of late +years, expectations were by no means realised on the +new diggings. Still, people came, and the storekeeper +was a made man.</p> + +<p class="indent">A colonist of less than three years' standing, he +joined three congenial spirits in the enterprise of +stocking a station in the new Kimberley district of +Western Australia. Here a huge success seemed certain +in process of time; when, in the full tide of prosperity, +with all he touched turning to gold beneath +his fingers, with the lust of wealth upon him, there +came a sudden revulsion of feeling. He realised that +he had already amassed a fortune—small enough as +fortunes go, but beyond his wildest hopes when quitting +England. He saw that to go farther was to pursue +wealth for wealth's sake—which was a rather lofty +view of it; and that luck might not last for ever—which +was shrewd; and that, with the sufficiency he +had won, a rather better kind of existence was within +reach. In short, he sickened of money-grubbing in a +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 24]</span> +single night, and turned desperately home-sick instead; +and, as it was not a game of cards, he was able, +without incurring anything worse than compassion, to +rise a winner. He determined to go home, invest his +"pile," live on the interest, and—devote himself to art! +He journeyed forthwith to Melbourne, and there succeeded +in disposing of his share in the Kimberley station +for a sum little short of five figures.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick Edmonstone was opposed to sensational +methods, or he would have taken the first mail-steamer +and dropped like a thunderbolt among his people in +England, with his money in his pocket. Besides, an +exceptional amount of experience crammed into four +years had robbed him, among other things, of nearly +(though not quite) all his boyish impetuosity. So he +merely wrote two letters by the first mail to his mother +and to a certain Colonel Bristo. Thereafter he took +his passage by the clipper <i>Hesper</i>, then loading at Williamstown, +and prepared for a period of reflection, +anticipation, and well-earned rest.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick Edmonstone had altered a good deal during +his four years in Australia. In the first place, the big +boy had become a man, and a man who held up his +head among other men; a man who had made his way +by his own indomitable perseverance, and who thereby +commanded your respect; a man of all-round ability +in the opinion of his friends (and they were right); a +man of the world in his own (and he was wrong). And +all at twenty-five! The old tremendous enthusiasm +had given place to a thoroughly sanguine temperament +of lusty, reliant manhood. He was cooler now, +no doubt, but his heart was still warm and his head +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 25]</span> +still hot. Strangers took him for thirty. His manner +was always independent, could be authoritative, and +was in danger of becoming arrogant. This much, successful +money-hunting had naturally brought about. +But a generous disposition had saved him from downright +selfishness through it all, and the talisman of a +loyal, honest, ardent love had led him blameless +through a wild and worldly life. And he was still +young—young in many ways. His hopes and beliefs +were still boundless; they had all come true so far. +He had not found the world a fraud yet. On the contrary, +he liked the world, which was natural; and +thought he knew it, which did not follow because he +happened to know some rough corners of it.</p> + +<p class="indent">One curious characteristic of young Edmonstone as +a public schoolman and a modern young Englishman +was the entire absence in him of false pride. Though +transported pretty directly from Cambridge to Australia, +he had taken to retail trade (of a humble kind +at that) with philosophical sang-froid. On leaving +England he had asked himself, What was his chief object +in going out? And he had answered, To make +money and return. Did it matter how he made it, +once out there? No. No manual toil need degrade +him, no honest business put him to shame. In England +it is different; but in her democratic Colonies her +younger sons—whether from Poplar or from Eton—must +take the work that offers, as they covet success. +Dick Edmonstone jumped at his first opening; that it +chanced to be in the licensed hawking line cost him +hardly a pang.</p> + +<p class="indent">Indeed, he looked back lovingly in his success on +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 26]</span> +those early days, when all he possessed in the world +was invested in that daring venture. He thought of +the anxiety that consumed him at the time, and of Jack +Flint's cooling influence; and whenever he thought of +those days one episode rose paramount in his brain, +obliterating other memories. That episode was the +"sticking-up" of the wagon on the first trip by Sundown +and his men, which must have meant his ruin +but for the extraordinary behaviour of the bushranger +with regard to the pocket-book and its contents. He +did not forget that the bushranger had preserved his +life as well as restored his money. And that hundred +pounds actually turned out to be the nucleus of a fortune! +Sundown—poor fellow—was captured; perhaps +by this time hanged, or imprisoned for life. Just +before the <i>Hesper</i> sailed, word of the outlaw's arrest +in a remote district of Queensland was telegraphed +from Brisbane. He had been heard of from time to +time during the preceding years, but on the whole his +gang had done less mischief and shed less blood than +some of their predecessors. As for Dick, when he +read of the capture he was downright sorry. It may +be a passive order of kindness that refrains from robbing +a man; yet Dick was so peculiarly constituted as +to feel in secret more than a passing regret at the news.</p> + +<p class="indent">But as the <i>Hesper</i> drew towards the Channel he +thought less and less of the life he had left behind, and +more and more of the life before him. He longed all +day to feel the springy turf of England under foot once +more; to have the scent of English flowers in his nostrils; +to listen to English larks carolling out of sight in +the fleecy clouds of an English sky. How green the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 27]</span> +fields would seem! How solid the houses, how venerable +the villages, how historic the rivers of the Old +World! And then how he longed to plunge into the +trio he styled "his people"—his mother the widow, +his brother the City clerk, his sister the saint! Yet +what were these yearnings beside one other! What +the dearest kin beside her who must yet be nearer and +dearer still!—the young girl from whom he had fled +to seek his fortune—for whom he had found it. In +her his honest yearning centred, in her his high hopes +culminated. Of her he thought all day, gazing out +over the sun-spangled waves, and all night, tossing in +his berth. A thousand times he cursed his folly in +choosing canvas before steam; the time was so long—and +seemed longer; the brightest days were interminable +ages; favouring gales were lighter than zephyrs.</p> + +<p class="indent">He allowed no doubts to interfere with the pleasures +of anticipation; no fears, no anxieties. If he thought +of what might have happened at home during the last +four or five months since he had received news, the +catalogue of calamities was endless. He did not believe +disappointment possible through any sort of a +calamity. If those he loved still lived—as he knew +they did five or six months ago—then he was sure of +his reception; he was sure of hearts and hands; he was +sure of his reception from every one—yes, from every +one.</p> + +<p class="indent">The future seemed so splendid and so near! Yet +it was giving the future hardly a fair chance to expect +as much of it as young Edmonstone expected during +the last days of his homeward voyage.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 28]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + +<p class="h2a">HOW DICK CAME HOME</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">A crowd</span> of the usual dock order had gathered on +the quay at Blackwall by the time the <i>Hesper</i> made her +appearance, towed by two Channel tugs. Some time, +however, passed before the vessel swung near enough +to the quay for recognitions to begin; and by then the +dingy line of dock loafers and watermen was enhanced +by a second rank of silk hats and a slight leaven of +bonnets. With intolerable sloth the big ship swung +closer and closer, broadside on; greetings were excitedly +exchanged, and at length the gangway was +thrown across and held by a dozen eager hands.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick Edmonstone, at the break of the poop, bent +forward to search among the faces on the quay, apparently +without finding any he knew. But presently, as +his eye glanced rapidly up and down the line, he became +conscious of one gaze fixed steadily upon him; +twice he overlooked this face; the third time, a mutual +stare, a quick smile of delight, a bound across the +gangway, and Dick was grasping his brother's hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dick!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Maurice!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Then they seemed to gasp in the same breath:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Never should have known you!" "Nor I you—from +Adam!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 29]</span> +And then they were silent for a whole minute, scrutinising +one another from head to heels; until Maurice +said simply that he had got away from the bank and +needn't go back, and fell to asking about the voyage, +and the weather, and the passengers, and had the cabin +been comfortable? and what a stunning ship! To all +of which Dick replied coherently; and for five minutes +they talked as though they had parted last week. +Only for such trifles could they find ready words; so +much was inexpressible just at first.</p> + +<p class="indent">They went into Dick's cabin; and there their +tongues loosened a little. All were well at home, and +happy, and comfortable; the news was good all round, +as Dick phrased it, with thankfulness in his heart. +That was the first delicious fact to be realised. After +that, words flew with marvellous rapidity; the brothers +were soon like two competitive human looms, turning +them out one against the other. Fortunately the pace +was too quick to last; in ten minutes both were breathless. +Then they fastened upon stewards and Customs +officials, and, by dint of some bullying and a little bribing, +managed finally to get clear of the ship with +Dick's luggage.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was in tremendous spirits. He was back in +old England at last, and testified his appreciation of +the fact every minute.</p> + +<p class="indent">Between Blackwall and Fenchurch Street he made +odious comparisons touching Colonial travelling; in +the four-wheeler across to Waterloo he revelled in the +rattle and roar of the traffic; along the loop-line his +eyes feasted on the verdant fields that had haunted his +dreams in the wilderness.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 30]</span> +The Edmonstones lived in a plain little house in a +road at Teddington, in which all the houses were little, +plain, and uniformly alike. They called their house +"The Pill Box"; but that was a mere nickname, since +all the houses in that plain little road were fearfully +and wonderfully christened, and theirs no exception to +the rule. Its name—blazoned on the little wooden +gate—was Iris Lodge; and being sane people, and +sufficiently familiar with suburban ideas, the Edmonstones +had never attempted to discover the putative +point of the appellation. They were satisfied to dub +the house "The Pill Box," with malicious candour, +among themselves. For the Edmonstones did not +take kindly (much less at first) to road or house. And +naturally, since five years ago, before Mr. Edmonstone's +death, they had lived in a great, square, charming +villa, with a garden-wall running a quarter of a +mile along the towing-path, within sight of Kingston +Bridge. But then Richard Edmonstone senior had +dropped dead, at the height of his reputed success on +the Stock Exchange and of his undoubted popularity +in the clubs. To the surprise of all but those who +knew him most intimately, he had left next to nothing +behind him; the house by the river had been hurriedly +sold, young Richard had as promptly emigrated, and +the rest of them had bundled into as small a house as +they could find in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p class="indent">But squat, snug, bourgeois as it was, Dick felt that +the plain little house was nevertheless home, as the +cab rattled over the railway bridge and along the road +to the left, and so on towards "The Pill Box." It was +raining (that June was not an ideal month), and the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 31]</span> +vehicle was the detestable kind of victoria so much +affected by the honest cabmen of the Thames valley; +still, Dick insisted on having the hood down to sniff +the air of his native heath. Yet, though in sufficiently +good spirits, his heart was beating quickly within him. +These homecomings are no small things, unless the +rover be old or loveless, and Dick was neither.</p> + +<p class="indent">After all, the meeting was got over, as such meetings +have been got over before, with a few tears and +fewer words and melting looks and warm embraces. +And so Dick Edmonstone was given back to the +bosom of his family.</p> + +<p class="indent">When the first and worst of it was over, he could +not rest in a chair and talk to them, but must needs +roam about the room, examining everybody and everything +as he answered their questions. How well his +mother was looking! and how her dark eyes beamed +upon him!—the more brightly, perhaps, from their +slight moisture. Her hand was as smooth and white +as ever, and her hair whiter; how well it suited her to +wear no cap, and have the silver mass pushed back +like that! He had declared to himself he had never +seen so pretty a woman over five-and-thirty—and his +mother was fifty, and looking every year of it. And +Fanny—well, she, perhaps, was as far from beauty as +ever; but her wavy chestnut hair was matchless still, +and as for expression, had there ever been one so +sweet and gentle in the world before? It was Maurice +who had all the good looks, though. But Maurice was +pale and slim and rather round-shouldered; and instantly +the image of the lad bending all day over the +desk rose in Dick's mind and made him sad. What a +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 32]</span> +different man the bush would make of Maurice! Then +he looked round at the old familiar objects; the Landseer +engravings and Fanny's water-colour sketches; +the cottage piano, the writing-table, old pieces of odd +ware which he remembered from his cradle, the fancy +ormolu clock, which he had hated from his earliest +days of discernment. He looked no further—a telegram +was stuck up in front of the clock, and flaunted +in his face:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Edmonstone, Iris Lodge, Teddington,—Ship +<i>Hesper</i> signalled Start Point ten this morning.—Bone +and Phillips."</p> + +<p class="indent">He read it curiously.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, that's three days old!" he said, laughing. +"Do you mean to say you have been staring at that +bit of paper ever since—a sort of deputy-me, eh?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was the first we heard," said the mother simply; +and a subtle something brought back her tears. "I +half think I'll frame it!" she added, smiling at her own +weakness.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I found out your other signallings," said Maurice. +"I was in Bone's office half-a-dozen times yesterday."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick continued his survey of the room.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, I think I recognise everything," he said +presently; "but, I say, Fanny, I've got a thing or two +for you to arrange in your high-art fashion; some +odds and ends you haven't seen the like of before, I +expect."</p> + +<p class="indent">"No!" said Fanny.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, but I have, though; and some of 'em expressly +for you."</p> + +<p class="indent">"No!—really?—then what?"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 33]</span> +"Aha, you'll see," said Dick. "Maurice, we'll unpack +them now—if that brute of a Customs functionary +has left a whole thing in the box." And the two +left the room.</p> + +<p class="indent">"To think," said Fanny musingly, "that our Dick +is back! Really back, and never going out again; and +been through all kinds of fearful adventures; and +sailed round the world, and been away four years and +a half—one can scarcely realise any of it. But above +all, to think that he has made his fortune!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Edmonstone started.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, Fanny," cried she, "I had forgotten that! +He never once spoke of it, and I didn't think of it. +Oh, my boy, my boy!" She burst fairly into sobs. +Her joy had been too great to bear before she was reminded +of this overwhelming fact; it had brought the +tears again and again to her eyes; now it became akin +to pain.</p> + +<p class="indent">Yet she did nothing but smile after her sons returned, +laden with treasures and curios which they +laid out all over the room. There was a famous rug +of Tasmanian opossum skins, a dozen emu eggs, the +tail of a lyre-bird, the skin of an immense carpet-snake, +a deadly collection of boomerangs and spears, +and a necklace of quandong stones mounted with silver. +Mrs. Edmonstone beheld in silent wonder. As +for Fanny, she was in ecstasies ("It is as good as the +Exhibition," she said). So the time slipped away, and +before half the quaint things had been examined and +described it was dinner-time. They were all so happy +together that first afternoon!</p> + +<p class="indent">Few and simple were the courses at Iris Lodge, but +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 34]</span> +at dessert Maurice produced some particular old Benedictine +(which had been in the family as long as he +had), and Dick's health was drunk with unspeakable +enthusiasm. Dick blushed; for it made what he +burned to say more awkward; but at last he blurted +out, apparently appealing to the mildewed Benedictine +bottle:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I say—will you all think me an awful brute if I +clear out for an hour or two? Mother, will you? +You know what I have still to do—whom to see—to +complete my first day in old England."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, of course!" from the younger ones; and +Mrs. Edmonstone simply pronounced the question: +"Graysbrooke?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," said Dick. "I must go and see them, you +know. You know why, too," he added simply.</p> + +<p class="indent">No one said anything. There was a rather awkward +pause, which it fell to Fanny to break.</p> + +<p class="indent">"By the bye," she said tentatively, "they have a visitor +there."</p> + +<p class="indent">She was prepared to add further information, but +Dick looked at her blankly, and clearly was not listening. +They rose from the table, and almost directly the +three who went into the drawing-room heard the front +door open and shut.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was thankful to be out in the cool and the twilight, +and alone. The day had been showery and dull, +but late in the afternoon the clouds had broken up, and +now they floated serenely in the still air, just touched +with a pale pink rim to westward. The gravelly +ground was wet enough to sound crisply underfoot—nothing +more. Drip-drip fell the drops from the laburnums +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 35]</span> +in the gardens all down the road; drip-drip +all round, from tree, shrub, and flower; every leaf distilling +perfume every minute. Dick appreciated the +evidence of his nostrils with the relish of a man who +has smelt nothing but brine for four months, nothing +like this for four years. Nevertheless, he walked on +briskly, down into the London road, that here lies parallel +with the river, then down a curve to the left, as +the highroad bends away from the river to form the +High Street of Teddington; then to a full stop at a corner +opposite the old churchyard. He had intended +to walk along the lower road towards Kingston, +straight to the gates of Graysbrooke, which fronted +the river. But now the thought occurred to him +(prompted by the sweetness of the evening, and +backed up by the fact that it was as yet rather early +to drop in casually for the evening anywhere—even +at the house of one's sweetheart whom one hadn't seen +for over four years). How about hiring a boat and +rowing to Graysbrooke? It was no distance; and +then, only to be afloat again on the dear old Thames! +Dick did not hesitate at the corner long, but turned +sharp down to the left, and hired his shallop at the +ferry landing.</p> + +<p class="indent">Down with the stream a hundred yards, and he was +level with the lock; a few strong strokes against the +stream, and the way already on the boat, and her nose +grounded on the rollers; a minute's exertion, a minute's +fumbling for coppers, and he floated out into the +narrow reach beyond the lock. He paddled slowly +along, bestowing friendly glances on the banks. The +cottages on the left, close to the lock, he remembered +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 36]</span> +just as he saw them; but the poplars on the island, inverted +in the glassy water—he felt convinced they had +grown. With each stroke of the oars the voice of the +weir grew louder; it seemed to be roaring its rough +welcome to him, just as yonder alders, right across the +stream, through the danger-posts, were bowing theirs. +How glorious it was, this first row on the Thames!</p> + +<p class="indent">But now the house was almost in sight, and he could +think no longer of the river. Slowly, as he sculled +on, Graysbrooke discovered itself: a gray, stone, turreted +building, set in leafy trees. There were battlements +along the coping, which might have looked venerable +but for the slates that peeped between them; yet +the stone was mellowed by time; and altogether there +was nothing either offensively new or unwholesomely +ancient in the appearance of the house. Dick saw it +all in his mind even before he stopped rowing to satisfy +the cravings of his hungry eyes. Still twilight, +and the river here a mirror without flaw, every stone +had its duplicate in the clear depths below; that parallelogram +of ruddy light that fastened Dick's attention +showed with especial sharpness in the reflection. +The light was in the drawing-room. They had finished +dinner. He could storm them now—at once.</p> + +<p class="indent">A little inlet entered one end of the lawn; in here he +sculled and moored his boat. Then he sprang upon +the close-cropped grass and stood transfixed.</p> + +<p class="indent">The light in the dining-room was turned low; but +that in the room to the right of the hall-door—the +room with the French window—was shining brightly. +And through the open window there burst, as Dick's +feet touched the grass, the sound of a girl's song. The +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 37]</span> +voice was low and clear, and full of youth and tenderness; +it rose, and fell, and trembled, for the singer possessed +feeling; it hastened here and lingered there, and +abused none of these tricks, for she sang with what is +rarer than feeling—taste. Dick trembled violently; +he wanted to rush into the room then and there, but +he was thrilled, and rooted to the ground; and after +a bar or two the voice soothed him and set his spirit +at rest, like the touch of a true friend's hand in the +hour of pain. Then he stood quite humbly, hoping it +would never, never end. What the song was he didn't +know, and never thought of finding out afterwards; +he might have heard it a hundred times or never before; +he knew nothing during these few transported +minutes—nothing, except that he was listening to her +voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">As the last low note was borne out upon the air, and +voices within the room murmured the conventional +grace after song, Dick stepped forward, meaning to +boldly enter. Two yards from the window, however, +he silently halted; it was so dark that he could see into +the room without himself being seen from within. The +temptation to avail himself of so obvious an advantage +was too strong to be resisted.</p> + +<p class="indent">There were three persons in the room, but for the +eyes of Dick only one—the two men made no immediate +impression on his physical perception. It was a +supreme moment in his life. He had left England for +the sake of a young girl, to make his way in the world +so that he might return and proudly claim her: for he +had won her heart. And now he had made his way +through toil and privation to a small fortune, and had +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 38]</span> +come back to woo her hand. She was here—this girl +for whom he had given his early manhood's strength, +his brain's essence, the best drops of his life's blood; +this girl whose image had beckoned him onward when +he grew faint, and urged him still further in the hour +of success; whose name had risen to his lips in despair +and in peril, inspiring new courage—here, within +ten feet of him; he striving to realise it, and to grow +cool before going into her presence, yet yearning to +fling himself at her feet.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was good that she was ignorant of his approach, +for it showed her to him in a fair light straight away—completely +natural and unconscious of herself. She +had seated herself after her song at a low table, and +was making an indolent attack on some trifling work +with her scissors. The lamplight, from under its +crimson shade, fell upon her hair and face and neck +with marvellous results, for it made her beautiful. She +was not at all beautiful. She had a peerless complexion, +a good nose, matchless teeth; otherwise her features +were of no account. But she was exceedingly +pretty; and as she sat there with the warm lamplight +changing her ordinary light-coloured hair into a +ruddy gold fit for any goddess, a much less prejudiced +person than Dick Edmonstone might have been pardoned +the notion that she was lovely, though she was +not.</p> + +<p class="indent">When at last he managed to raise his eyes from her +they rested upon a face that was entirely strange. A +tall, massive man, in evening dress, leaned with an +elbow on the chimneypiece, his head lightly resting on +his hand, one foot on the edge of the fender. There +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 39]</span> +could be no two opinions as to the beauty of this face—it +was handsome and striking to the last degree. +Burnt, like Dick's, to the colour of brick-dust, it was +framed in dark curly hair, with beard and whiskers of +a fairer hue, while the mouth was hidden by a still +fairer, almost golden, moustache. The effect was +leonine. Dick caught his profile, and saw that the +steady, downward gaze was bent upon the dainty little +head that glowed in the lamplight. From his vantage-post +outside the window he glanced from observer to +observed. They were a sufficiently good-looking +pair, yet he overrated the one and underrated the +other. He was by no means attracted to this unknown +exquisite; there was an ease about his pose which bespoke +freedom also; and his scrutiny of the unconscious +girl was of a kind that would at least have irritated +any man in Dick's position.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick allowed his attention to rest but briefly upon +the third occupant of the room—a man with snowy +hair and whiskers, who was apparently dropping off +to sleep in a big armchair. Somehow or other, the +sight of the men—but particularly of the stranger—acted +on his heart like a shower-bath on a man's head; +his pulse slackened, he regained with interest the self-possession +with which he had first approached the window. +He took three steps forward, and stood in the +middle of the room.</p> + +<p class="indent">A startled cry escaped the old man and the girl. +The man by the fireplace dropped his forearm and +turned his head three inches.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick strode forward and grasped an outstretched +hand.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 40]</span> +"Colonel Bristo!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dick Edmonstone!—is it really Dick?" a well-remembered +voice repeated a dozen times. "We +knew you were on your way home, but—bless my +soul! bless my soul!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The old soldier could think of nothing else to say; +nor did it matter, for Dick's salute was over and his +back turned; he was already clasping the hand of the +fair young girl, who had risen, flushed and breathless, +to greet him.</p> + +<p class="indent">He was speechless. He tried to say "Alice," but +the sound was inarticulate. Their eyes met.</p> + +<p class="indent">A clatter in the fender. The tall man's heel had +come down heavily among the fire-irons.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Let me introduce you," said Colonel Bristo to +this man and Dick. "You will like to know each +other, since you both come from the same country: +Mr. Edmonstone, from Australia; Mr. Miles, from +Australia! Mr. Miles was born and bred there, Dick, +and has never been in England before. So you will +be able to compare notes."</p> + +<p class="indent">The two men stared at each other and shook hands.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 41]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + +<p class="h2a">THE FIRST EVENING AT GRAYSBROOKE</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">"Sit</span> down, boy, sit down," said Colonel Bristo, +"and let us have a look at you. Mind, we don't know +yet that you're not an impostor. You should have +brought proofs."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Here are five-foot-ten of them," said Dick, laughing.</p> + +<p class="indent">"To believe that, we must put you through examination—and +cross-examination," the Colonel added +with a glance at his daughter; "although I half believe +you really are the man you profess to be. What +do you say, Alice?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have a strong case—" Dick was beginning, but +he was cut short.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is Dick," said the oracle sweetly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You take his word for it?" asked her father.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, I identify him," Alice answered with a quiet +smile; "and he hasn't altered so very much, when one +looks at him."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick turned his head and met her eyes; they were +serene and friendly. "Thank you," he said to her, +with gratitude in his voice. And, indeed, he felt grateful +to them all; to the Colonel for his ponderous pleasantry, +to Alice for her unembarrassed manner, to Mr. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 42]</span> +Miles for the good taste he showed in minding his own +business. (He had strolled over to the window.)</p> + +<p class="indent">"And when did you land?" inquired the Colonel.</p> + +<p class="indent">"This morning."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Only this morning!" exclaimed Alice; "then I +think it was too good of you to come and see us so +soon; don't you, papa?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Very kind of him indeed, papa thought. Dick was +pleased; but he thought they might have understood +his eagerness. Alice, at any rate, should not have +been surprised—and probably was not. "I couldn't +put it off," he said, frankly.</p> + +<p class="indent">There was a slight pause; then the Colonel spoke:</p> + +<p class="indent">"That's kindly said, my boy; and if your mother +knew how it does us good to see you here, she would +scarcely grudge us an hour or two this evening—though +grudge it you may depend she does. As for +ourselves, Dick, we can hardly realise that you are +back among us."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I can't realise it at all," murmured Dick, aloud +but to himself.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I won't worry you by asking point-blank how +you like Australia," the Colonel went on, "for that's a +daily nuisance in store for you for the next six months. +But I may tell you we expect some tough yarns of you; +our taste has been tickled by Miles, who has some +miraculous—why, where is Miles?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles had vanished.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What made him go, I wonder?" asked Alice, with +the slightest perceptible annoyance. Dick did not +perceive it, but he thought the question odd. To disappear +seemed to him the only thing a stranger, who +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 43]</span> +was also a gentleman, could have done; he was +scarcely impartial on the point, however.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice took up the theme which her father had +dropped.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, Mr. Miles has some wonderful stories," said +she; "he has had some tremendous adventures."</p> + +<p class="indent">"The deuce he has!" thought Dick, but he only +said: "You should take travellers' tales with a grain +of salt."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Thanks," Alice instantly retorted; "I shall remember +that when you tell yours."</p> + +<p class="indent">They laughed over the retort. All three began to +feel quite at ease.</p> + +<p class="indent">"So you kept up your sketching out there, and +drew bush scenes for our illustrated papers?" said the +Colonel.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Two or three times; more often for the Colonial +papers."</p> + +<p class="indent">"We saw them all," said Alice, graciously—"I +mean the English ones. We cut them out and kept +them." (She should have said that she did.)</p> + +<p class="indent">"Did you, though?" said Dick, delighted.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," said Alice, "and I have a crow to pick with +you about them. That 'Week in the Sandwich Islands'—it +was yours, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick admitted that it was.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, and pray when were you in the Sandwich +Islands?"</p> + +<p class="indent">He confessed that he had never seen them.</p> + +<p class="indent">"So you not only cheated a popular journal—a nice +thing to do!—but deceived the British public, which +is a far more serious matter. What explanation have +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 44]</span> +you to offer? What apology to 'One who was Deceived'—as +I shall sign my 'Times' letter, when I +write it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Alice, you are an inquisitor," said Colonel Bristo. +But Alice replied with such a mischievous, interested +smile that Dick immediately ceased to feel ashamed of +himself.</p> + +<p class="indent">"The fact is," he owned, "your popular journal +doesn't care a fig whether one has been to a place so +long as one's sketches of it are attractive. I did them +a thing once of a bullock-dray stuck up in the mud; +and how did it appear? 'The War at the Cape: Difficulties +in Reaching the Front.' And they had altered +the horns of my bullocks, if you please, to make 'em +into South African cattle! You see, just then Africa +was of more interest to your British public than Australia. +Surely you won't be so hard on me now? +You see you have made me divulge professional +secrets by your calumnies."</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice said she forgave him, if all that was true; but +she added, slyly: "One must take travellers' tales +with a pinch of salt, you know!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Come, Alice," said her father, "if you insist on +pitching into our artist, he shall have his fling at our +photographer. Dick, she's taken to photography—it's +lately become the fashion. Look on that table, +under the lamp; you'll find some there that she was +trimming, or something, when you dropped in our +midst."</p> + +<p class="indent">"May I look at them?" Dick asked, moving over +to Alice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Certainly; but they're very bad, I'm afraid; and +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 45]</span> +since you artists scorn photography—as so inartistic, +you know—I suppose you will be a severe critic."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not when this is the subject," said Dick, in a low +voice, picking up a print; "how did you manage to +take yourself?"</p> + +<p class="indent">He was sitting beside her at the little table, with the +lamp between them and the Colonel; he instinctively +lowered his voice, and a grain of the feeling he had so +far successfully repressed escaped into his tone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Someone took off the cap for me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh. Who?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Who? Oh, I get anybody to take the cap off +when I am so vain as to take myself—anybody who is +handy."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Mr. Miles, for instance?" It was a stray question, +suggested by no particular train of thought, and +spoken carelessly; there was no trace of jealousy in +the tone—it was too early for that; but Alice looked +up, quick to suspect, and answered shortly:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, if you like."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was genuinely interested, and noticed in her +tone nothing amiss. Several of the photographs +turned out to be of Alice, and they charmed him.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Did Mr. Miles take all these?" he asked, lightly; +he was forced to speak so before her father: the restraint +was natural, though he marvelled afterwards +that he had been able to maintain it so long.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice, however, read him wrong. She was prepared +for pique in her old lover, and imagined it before +it existed. She answered with marked coldness:</p> + +<p class="indent">"A good many of them."</p> + +<p class="indent">This time Dick detected the unpleasant ring in her +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 46]</span> +words—he could not help but detect it. A pang shot +to his heart. His first (and only) impression of Miles, +which had fled from his mind (with all other impressions) +while talking to her, swiftly returned. He had +used the man's name, a minute ago, without its conveying +anything to his mind; he used it now with a +bitterness at heart which crept into his voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"And don't you return the compliment? I see no +photographs of Mr. Miles here; and he would look so +well in one."</p> + +<p class="indent">"He has never been taken in his life—and never +means to be. Now, Dick, you have seen them all," +she added quite softly, her heart smiting her; and with +that she rolled all the prints into one little cylinder. +Dick was in that nervous state in which a kind word +wipes out unkindness the moment it is spoken, and +the cloud lifted at once from his face. They were +silent for more than a minute. Colonel Bristo quietly +left the room.</p> + +<p class="indent">Then a strange change came over Dick. While +others had been in the room, composure had sat naturally +upon him; but now that they were alone together, +and the dream of his exile so far realised, that +armour fell from him, and left his heart bare. He +gazed at his darling with unutterable emotion; he +yearned to clasp her in his arms, yet dared not to profane +her with his touch. There had been vows between +them when they parted—vows out of number, +and kisses and tears; but no betrothal, and never a +letter. He could but gaze at her now—his soul in that +gaze—and tremble; his lips moved, but until he had +conquered his weakness no words came. As for Alice, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 47]</span> +her eyes were downcast, and neither did she speak. +At length, and timidly, he took her hand. She suffered +this, but drew ever so slightly away from him.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Alice," he faltered, "this is the sweetest moment +of my life. It is what I have dreamt of, Alice, but +feared it might never come. I cannot speak; forgive +me, dear."</p> + +<p class="indent">She answered him cunningly:</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is very nice to have you back again, Dick."</p> + +<p class="indent">He continued without seeming to hear her, and his +voice shook with tenderness: "Here—this moment—I +can't believe these years have been; I think we +have never been separated——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"It certainly doesn't seem four years," said Alice +sympathetically, but coolly.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick said nothing for a minute; his eyes hung on +her downcast lids, waiting for an answering beam of +love, but one never came.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You remember," he said at last, in a calmer voice, +"you remember the old days? and our promises? and +how we parted?" He was going on, but Alice interrupted +him by withdrawing her hand from his and +rising from her chair.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dick," said she, kindly enough, "don't speak of +them, especially not now—but don't speak of them at +all. We can't have childhood over again; and I was +a child then—of seventeen. I am grown up now, and +altered; and you—of course you have altered too."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh Alice!"—the turning of the door handle made +him break off short, and add in a quick whisper, "I +may speak to you to-morrow?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Very well," she answered indifferently, as there +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 48]</span> +entered upon them a little old lady in rustling silk and +jingling beads—an old lady with a sallow face and a +piercing black eye, who welcomed Dick with a degree +of fussy effusiveness, combined with a look and tone +which discounted her words.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Delighted to see you back, Mr. Richard—a pleasure +I have often looked forward to. We don't welcome +conquering heroes every day," were in themselves +sufficiently kindly words, but they were accompanied +by a flash of the beady eyes from Dick to Alice, +and a scrutiny of the young fellow's appearance as +searching as it was unsympathetic; and when a smile +followed, overspreading her loose, leathery, wrinkled +skin, the effect was full of uncanny suggestion.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, it is jolly to be back, and thanks very much," +said Dick civilly; "and it is charming to find you still +here, Mrs. Parish."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Of course I am still here," said the leathery little +lady brusquely: as if Colonel Bristo could live without +his faithful domestic despot, as if Graysbrooke could +stand without its immemorial housekeeper! This +Mrs. Parish was ugly, vain, and old, and had appeared +as old and as vain and as ugly when, more than +twenty years ago, she first entered the Colonel's service. +She had her good points, however, and a sense +of duty according to her lights. Though it be no extravagant +praise, she was a better person at heart than +on the surface.</p> + +<p class="indent">She now inquired with some condescension about +Dick's Australian life, and how he liked it, and where +he had been, and how he should like living altogether +out there. She congratulated him on his success (she +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 49]</span> +called it "luck"), which she declared was in the +mouths of everybody. On that he felt annoyed, and +wondered if she knew any details, and what figure she +would bid for some—of, say, his first year—in the +local gossip market.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Of course you will go back," said the old woman +with conviction; "all lucky Colonists do. You will +find England far too dull and slow for you." At this +point Colonel Bristo and Mr. Miles came back, chatting. +"I was saying," Mrs. Parish repeated for their +benefit, "that of course Mr. Richard will soon return +to Australia; he will tire of England in six weeks; it +is always the way. Mr. Miles is the happy exception!" +with a smile upon that gentleman which strove +to be arch—with doubtful success.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I never said I meant to make 'Home' my home," +said the Australian, with the drawl of his race, but in +tones mellow and musical. His long frame sank with +graceful freedom into a chair beside Mrs. Parish, and +his clear blue eyes beamed upon them all—all except +Dick, whom he forgot to notice just then.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I don't think Dick means to go back," said the +Colonel cheerily. "That would be treating us all +abominably; in fact, we could never allow it—eh, +Dick?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick looked gravely at the carpet.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I mean to settle down in England now," said he; +and he could not refrain from a sly glance at Alice. +Her eyes, bent thoughtfully upon him, instantly filled +with mischief.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You mean to stay at home, yet sketch the ends of +the earth; is that it?" Her tone changed swiftly to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 50]</span> +one of extreme kindness. "Well, it would be dreadful +if you didn't stop at home now. Whatever you +do" (he changed colour; she added calmly), "think of +Mrs. Edmonstone and Fanny!"</p> + +<p class="indent">A little later, Alice and her father told Dick all the +news of themselves that they could think of—how +they had been in Italy last year, and in Scotland the +year before, and how they had taken a shooting-box +in Yorkshire for this year. And Alice's manner was +very courteous and kindly, for she was beginning to +reproach herself for having been cruel to him on this +his first evening, and to wonder how she could have +had the heart. She asked him if he had forgotten how +to dance, and said he must begin learning over again +at once, in order to dance at her ball—her very own +party—on the second of July.</p> + +<p class="indent">Poor Dick's spirits once more rose high, though +this time an uneasy sediment remained deep in his +heart. Without the least intention in the world, Alice +was beginning a very pretty game of coquetry with her +sweetheart—alas! her quondam sweetheart. While +they talked, Mr. Miles, at the other side of the room, +kept up an entertaining conversation with Mrs. Parish. +At the same time he observed Dick Edmonstone +very narrowly—perhaps more anxiously than he need +have regarded an old friend of his friends'; though +perhaps with no more than a social lion's innate suspicion +of his kind. At last Dick rose to go.</p> + +<p class="indent">Colonel Bristo went out with him, and thrust his +arm affectionately through the young man's as they +crossed the lawn.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dick," said he, very kindly, "I thought I would +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 51]</span> +wait till I saw you alone to congratulate you most +heartily on having made your way so splendidly. Nay, +don't interrupt me; your way in the world is already +made, and nobly made. I think you showed your +sense—and more—in stopping short, and coming +home to follow up the career you love. That was the +intention expressed in your letter, I think?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, sir. And that letter?" said Dick anxiously. +He had felt misgivings about it ever since the heat +of triumph in which it was written and posted in Melbourne.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I liked it," said the Colonel simply; "it was manly +and frank, and to the point. You shall have my answer +now; and I, too, will be frank. Four years ago, +more or less, I was forced to answer in a certain way +a certain question—there was no alternative. Dick, +think seriously—you are both four years older; are +you, for one, still of the same mind?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I am; indeed I am," said Dick, earnestly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then take your chance!" said Colonel Bristo. +"I cannot say more; I don't understand women; I +find it bitter to say this much, I that am to lose her. +But you deserve her; come here as often as you will; +you will be very welcome. And if you both wish +now—both, mind!—what you both wished then, when +for obvious reasons I could not hear of it——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You were right enough, sir," Dick murmured sadly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then," continued the Colonel, "I frankly tell you, +I shall like it. That's all; good-night!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick looked up from the dewy grass, and his lips +formed a grateful sentence, though no words could express +his feeling just then. He looked up, but the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 52]</span> +honest, simple-hearted soldier was gone. He who had +faced the Russian shot and shell had retreated cowardly +before honest English thanks!</p> + +<p class="indent">The young man stepped into his boat, undid the +painter, and floated out upon the broad moonlit river. +Ah, how kind of Colonel Bristo! But only to think +what those words would have been to them four years +ago! Yes, to them; for then Alice besought the consent +that had just been given; besought it as wildly as +himself. And now did she even desire it? He had +found her so passionless, so different from all he had +fancied, or hoped, or feared. Once she had been +cruel, but anon so kind; and then she had ridiculed +him in pure friendliness. Alas, fatal friendliness! +Had she but been awkward or shown him downright +coldness—anything but that. As to this Miles, no +need to think about him yet. The question was +whether Alice Bristo still loved Dick Edmonstone, not +whether there was another man in the case; time +enough for that afterwards. Yet a few short hours +ago the question—faced so calmly now—would have +stunned or maddened this ardent lover.</p> + +<p class="indent">Down with the stream came peace and hope, with +the soft, soothing touch of the moonbeams; they stole +into the heart of Dick Edmonstone; they held it for +one brief moment. For a sound broke on his ears +which made him stare and tremble, and drove out the +sweet influences almost before their presence was felt. +Yet the sound of itself was sweet; the very same sound +had thrilled poor Dick as he leapt ashore; it was the +voice of Alice—singing to Mr. Miles!</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 53]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + +<p class="h2a">SISYPHUS</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Dick Edmonstone</span> slept badly, his first night in +England; and no wonder, since already a sense of +grievous disappointment weighed him down. When +he reached home and his own room, this feeling grew +upon him; it distracted him, it denied him rest. Where +his faith had been surest, disillusion came slowly home +to him; in the purest spot of the vision the reality was +dim and blurred. What a fool he had been to make +sure of anything! Above all, to build his peace of +mind on the shifting sand of a woman's love; to imagine—simply +because his love for Alice had never +wavered—that Alice's love for him must perforce remain +equally unchanged. And all that night her voice, +as he had last heard it, rang cruelly in his ear, and a +light remark, about what she had called her "childhood," +lay like lead at his heart.</p> + +<p class="indent">At breakfast he could not quite conceal his trouble; +he looked somewhat haggard. He knew that he was +expected to be in high spirits, and did his best to feign +them, but his mirth was perfunctory. This was obvious +to his sister, and not unnoticed by Mrs. Edmonstone. +They spoke about it afterwards, for they knew +something of the circumstances at Graysbrooke, and +had their own opinion of the guest there.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 54]</span> +Dick fidgeted all the morning, and passed some of +the time in unpacking his belongings. In the afternoon +he left the house full of conflicting emotions. +As he walked up the drive, Dick could not tell how +he had waited until the afternoon, such a wild elation +took possession of him at the thought of again seeing +his beloved. Miss Bristo was in the garden, the butler +told him—yes, alone; and Dick walked through the +house and on to the top of the shaven lawn that sloped +to the river.</p> + +<p class="indent">He found her deep in a magazine and in the stern +sheets of the boat, which was moored in the inlet. She +was all in white, for the day was sunny; and she +smiled sweetly from under the broad brim of her straw +hat as Dick stepped gravely into the boat, and sat +down on the thwart facing her.</p> + +<p class="indent">She looked so careless and so bright that he could +not find it in his heart to vex her straight away; so +they talked lightly of this and that for a full quarter +of an hour, while Dick basked recklessly in her smiles, +and almost persuaded himself that this was happiness. +But at last came a pause; and then he nerved himself +to speak.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Alice," he began gravely, "you know our few +words last night? You said I might speak to you today."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well," said Alice, carelessly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You know very well what I want to speak about," +rather warmly.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice turned down her leaf, shut up her magazine, +leant back, and surveyed him calmly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I wish I didn't, Dick," she answered, half in annoyance, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 55]</span> +half in pity. But her look added: "Say on; +let us have it out—and over."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Last night," said Dick smoothly, "I asked you if +you remembered old days, and what there was between +us, and so on. You said you didn't want to +remember them, and talked about your 'childhood.' +You said you were altered, and that, of course, I must +be altered." He paused.</p> + +<p class="indent">So far he had been cool and fluent; but he had rehearsed +all this. His next words came hot from the +heart, and fell unsteadily from the lips.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, Alice," cried he, "did you mean that? Say +that you didn't! I have never changed, never can. +Oh, say that you are the same. Say that you only +meant to tease me, or try me, or anything you like—anything +but that you meant all that about our being +altered, and forgetting the past—" his voice was piteous +in its appeal; "say that you didn't mean it!" he +repeated in a whisper.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I did mean it," Alice replied; not harshly or coldly, +but with due deliberation.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick turned pale. He grasped the gunwale nervously +with each hand, and leaned forward.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then I—no longer—have your love?" he asked +in a hollow voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice looked at him reproachfully; there was even +indignation in her glance.</p> + +<p class="indent">"How can you force such things from me? Have +you no pride?" He winced. "But, since you press +for an explanation, you shall have one. Before you +went away I knew no one. I was a child; I had +always been fond of you; my head was full of nonsense; +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 56]</span> +and, when you asked me, I said I loved you. +It was true, too, in a childish way."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Go on," said Dick, in a low voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice was flushed, and her eyes sparkled, but her +self-possession was complete.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, you come back after four years, and, it seems, +expect to find me still a child. Instead of that, I am +a woman—a sensible woman," with a good humoured +twinkle of the eyes, "disinclined to go on with the old +nonsense just where it left off—you must admit that +that would be absurd? But for the rest, I am as fond +of you, Dick, as I was then—only without the childish +nonsense. No one is more delighted to see you back, +and welcome you, than I am; no one is more your +friend. Dear Dick," she added in a tone of earnest +entreaty, "cannot we be friends still?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No!" exclaimed Dick, hoarsely.</p> + +<p class="indent">The flush died away from the girl's face, to return +two-fold.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No!" he repeated. "You give me your love, and +then, after years of separation, you offer me your +friendship instead. What is that to me? How can I +make that do—a lamp instead of the sun? It is too +much to ask of any man: you know it. Who has +taught you to play with men's hearts like this?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have been too kind," said Alice, coldly. She had +stifled her humiliation, and was preparing to leave the +boat.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Say rather too cruel!" returned Dick very bitterly. +"Nay, not on my account. I will save you the +trouble of going."</p> + +<p class="indent">He sprang from the boat as he spoke. One moment +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 57]</span> +he stood on the bank with a blight on his brave eyes; +the next, he raised his hat proudly, turned on his heel +and was gone.</p> + +<p class="indent">No sooner had he disappeared than the young lady +produced a little lace handkerchief, and rained her +tears upon its wholly inadequate area. She sobbed +for nearly five minutes; and, after that, dipped her pink +fingers in the water, and made assiduous efforts to +expunge the most tell-tale symptoms. Then she took +up the magazine and tried to revive her interest in the +story she had been reading, but she could remember +nothing about it. Finally she was about to quit the +boat in despair, when, looking up, whom should she +see but Dick Edmonstone towering above her on the +bank, hat in hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I want you to forgive me," he said very humbly. +She affected not to understand him, and intimated as +much by raising her eyebrows.</p> + +<p class="indent">"For what I said just now" (rapidly)—"for everything +I have said since I saw you first, last night. +And I want to say—if you will still have it—let us be—friends."</p> + +<p class="indent">Her face instantly brightened; every trace of affectation +vanished; she smiled gratefully upon him.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah, that is sense!" said she.</p> + +<p class="indent">"But," said Dick, still more earnestly, "there are +two questions I do think I may ask, though whether +you will answer them—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I will," the girl exclaimed rashly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, then, the first is, have you taken a dislike +to me—a new one? Don't laugh," he said, colouring; +"I mean it. It is so possible, you know. I have +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 58]</span> +led a rough life; you might easily be ashamed of the +things I had to do, to make my way at first; you might +easily think me less polished, less gentlemanly: if it +is that, I implore you to say so."</p> + +<p class="indent">She could scarcely keep grave; even he might have +smiled, but for the question he had still to ask.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, it is not that; to my mind you are just the +same."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick drew a deep breath of relief.</p> + +<p class="indent">"The second question may offend you; if it does—well, +it can't be helped. I think my old footing—even +though you were a child then—is sufficient excuse for +it. It is, then—and, indeed, you must grant me an +honest answer—do you love another man?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"And it is not that," said Alice shortly, nevertheless +looking him full in the face.</p> + +<p class="indent">A great load was removed from his heart.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then it is only," he said eagerly—"only that you +wish to cancel the past? really only that?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Really only that," she repeated with a smile.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then," added Dick, hope rekindling in his heart, +"may I never—that is, won't you hold out to me the +least faint spark?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I think you had better leave well alone," said +Alice; and she stepped lightly from the boat as she +spoke. "Now I must go in. Will you come, too?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No; I must say good-bye."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Really? Then good-bye, Dick." Another sweet +smile as she stretched out her hand. "And come as +often as ever you can; you will always be welcome."</p> + +<p class="indent">He watched her slim form tripping daintily across +the grass.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 59]</span> +"Ay, I will come!" he muttered between his teeth; +"and I shall win you yet, Miss Caprice, though I have +to begin all over again. To start afresh! How could +I have borne the thought yesterday? Yet to-day it +must be faced. This minute I give up looking back, +and begin to look forward. And it may be better so; +for when I win you, as win you I shall, you will be all +the dearer to me. I might not have valued you as I +ought—who knows? You do not deny me hope; I +shan't deny it to myself. You shall be mine, never +fear. For the present, have your wish—we are only +friends."</p> + +<p class="indent">His resolution taken, Dick Edmonstone threw up +vain regrets; "friendly relations" with Alice were +duly established, and at first the plan worked tolerably +well. They had one or two common interests, +fortunately. Alice dabbled in water-colours; in which +Dick could help her, and did. In return, Alice took +a lively interest in his sketches; and they would sometimes +talk of the career to which he was to devote himself. +Then there was the river; they were both good +oars, and, with Alice, rowing was a passion.</p> + +<p class="indent">Beyond these things there was little enough to bring +them together. In everything else Mr. Miles either +stepped in or enjoyed a previous pre-eminence. At +first Dick tried hard to hate this man for his own sake, +without being jealous of him; but under the circumstances +it was impossible for jealousy not to creep in. +He certainly distrusted Miles; the man struck him +from the first as an adventurer, who had wormed himself +by mysterious means into the friendship of the +guileless, single-hearted Colonel Bristo; and observation +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 60]</span> +deepened this impression. On the other hand, +the pair saw very little of each other. Dick naturally +avoided Miles, and Miles—for some good reason of +his own—shunned Dick. In fact, the jealous feeling +did not arise from anything he saw or heard: the +flame was promoted and fed, as it were, at second-hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">Deep in his heart, poor Dick had counted on being +something of a lion (it was only human) on his return +from Australia, at least on one hearth besides his own; +and lo! a lion occupied that hearth before him—a lion, +moreover, of the very same type. The Bristos didn't +want to hear Australian experiences, because they had +already heard such as could never be surpassed, from +the lips of Miles; their palate for bush yarns was destroyed. +Dick found himself cut out, in his own line, +by Miles. His friends were very hospitable and very +kind, but they had no wish to learn his adventures. +And those adventures! How he had hoarded them in +his mind! how he had dreamed in his vanity of enthralling +the Colonel and thrilling Alice! He had +hoped at least to interest them; and even in that he +failed. Each little reminiscence yawned over, each +comparison or allusion ignored—these were slight +things with sharp edges. With Alice, it more than +once happened that when he touched on his strange +experiences she forgot to listen, which wounded him; +or if she made him repeat it, it was to cite some far +more wonderful story of Mr. Miles—which sowed salt in +the wound. Of course vanity was its own cure, and he +dropped the subject of Australia altogether; but he was +very full of his romantic life, and this took him +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 61]</span> +a day or two, and cost him some moments of bitterness.</p> + +<p class="indent">So Dick's first fortnight in England passed, and on +the whole he believed he had made some sort of progress +with Alice. Moreover, he began rather to like +wooing her on his merits. On consideration, it was +more satisfactory, perhaps, than reviving the old boy-and-girl +sentiment as if there had been no four years' +hiatus; more satisfactory, because he never doubted +that he would win her in the end. It is to be noted +that his ideas about one or two things changed in a +remarkable degree during those first days.</p> + +<p class="indent">One morning, when they chanced to be particularly +confidential together, Dick said suddenly:</p> + +<p class="indent">"By the bye, how did you come to know this—Mr. +Miles?" He had almost said "this fellow Miles."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Has papa never told you?" Alice asked in surprise.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, never."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nor Mr. Miles himself? Ah, no: he would be +the last person to speak of it. But I will tell you. +Well, then, it was when we were down in Sussex. +Papa was bathing (though I had forbidden it), when +he was seized with cramp, out of his depth. He must +certainly have been drowned; but a great handsome +fellow, dressed like a fisherman, saw his distress, +rushed into the sea, swam out, and rescued him with +the help of a boat. Poor papa, when he came to himself, +at once offered the man money; and here came +the surprise. The man laughed, refused the money, +dived his hand into his own pocket, and threw a sovereign +to the boatman who had helped!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 62]</span> +Dick's interest was thoroughly aroused, and he +showed it; but he thought to himself: "That was unnecessary. +Why couldn't the fellow keep to the part +he was playing?"</p> + +<p class="indent">And Alice continued: "Then papa found out that he +was a gentleman in disguise—a Mr. Miles, from Sydney! +He had been over some months, and was seeing +England in thorough fashion. Indeed, he seemed a +regular boatman, with his hands all hard and seamed +with tar."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And your father made friends with him?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Naturally; he brought him up to the hotel, where +I heard all about the affair. You may imagine the +state I was in! After that we saw a good deal of him +down there, and papa got to like him very much, and +asked him to come and stay with us when he grew +tired of that kind of life and returned to London. And +that's all."</p> + +<p class="indent">"How long did you say it is since he saved your +father's life?" Dick asked, after a short pause.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Let me see, it's—yes, not quite a month ago."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick gave vent to a scarcely audible whistle.</p> + +<p class="indent">"And he has no other friends in England?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not that I know of."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And writes no letters nor receives any?" (He +was speaking from his own observation.)</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not that I know of. But how should I know? or +what does it matter?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"In fact, he is a friendless adventurer, whom you +don't know a thing about beyond what you have told +me?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice suddenly recoiled, and a dangerous light +gleamed in her eyes.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 63]</span> +"What do you mean? I don't understand you. +Why all these questions?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick regarded her unflinchingly. He knew what an +honest answer would cost him, yet he was resolved to +speak out.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Because," said he, impressively and slowly, "because +I don't believe Mr. Miles is what he makes himself +out to be."</p> + +<p class="indent">He knew that he had made some advance in her +esteem, he knew that these words would lose him all +that he had gained, and he was right. A flash of contempt +lit up the girl's eyes and pierced to his soul. +"Noble rival!" said she; and without another word +swept haughtily past him—from the garden where +they had been walking—into the house.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 64]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">SOUTH KENSINGTON</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The</span> first act of every Australian who landed in +England that summer was, very naturally, to visit the +Exhibition—their Exhibition—at South Kensington.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was not an Australian, and it therefore did not +consume him to put off South Kensington until he had +been a week or so quietly at home. Nevertheless he +was sufficiently eager to inspect the choice products +of a land that he regarded with gratitude as indeed his +alma mater; and still more eager to expatiate on all +that was to be seen to insular friends, who believed +that New Zealand was an inland colony, and who +asked if Victoria was not the capital of Sydney. On +that very first evening he had made a sort of offer to +escort Colonel Bristo and Alice; but there he was too +late; and he experienced the first of a series of petty +mortifications—already mentioned—which originated +from a common cause. Mr. Miles had already been +with the Bristos to the Exhibition, and had proved a +most entertaining showman. He had promised to accompany +them again in a week or two; would not +Dick join the party? For three visits would be more +than impartial persons, such as the Colonel and his +daughter, were likely to care about—even with so +splendid a cicerone as Mr. Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 65]</span> +Of course, Dick was not going to play second fiddle +to the Australian deliberately and with his eyes open. +He made his excuses, and never alluded to the matter +again. But one day, after a morning's business in the +City, he went alone.</p> + +<p class="indent">When he was once in the vast place, and had found +his way to the Australian section, his interest speedily +rose to a high pitch. It is one thing to go to an exhibition +to be instructed, or to wonder what on earth +half the things are; it is something quite different to +find yourself among familiar objects and signs which +are not Greek to you, to thread corridors lined with +curios which you hail as the household gods of your +exile. Instead of the bored outsider, with his shallow +appreciation of everything, you become at once a discriminate +observer and intelligent critic, and sightseeing +for once loses its tedium. Dick wandered from +aisle to aisle, from stand to stand, in rapt attention. +At every turn he found something of peculiar interest +to him: here it was a view of some township whose +every stick he knew by heart; there a sample of wood +bearing on the printed label under the glass the name +of a sheep station where he had stayed time out of +number.</p> + +<p class="indent">The golden arch at the entrance to the Victorian +Court arrested him, as it arrested all the world; but +even more fascinating in his eyes was the case of +model nuggets close at hand. He heard a small boy +asking his mamma if they were all real, and he heard +mamma reply with bated breath that she supposed so; +then the small boy smacked his lips, and uttered awed +(though slangy) ejaculations, and the enlightened +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 66]</span> +parent led him on to wonders new. But Dick still +gazed at the nuggets; he was wondering—if he could +have it all over again—whether he would rather pick +up one of these fellows than win again their equivalent +through toil and enterprise, step by step, when a smart +slap on the back caused him to turn sharp round with +an exclamation.</p> + +<p class="indent">A short, stout, red-faced man stood at his elbow +with arms akimbo, and grinned familiarly in his face. +Dick looked him up and down with a stare of indignation; +he could not for the life of him recognise the +fellow; yet there he stood, his red-stubbled chin thrust +forward, and a broad, good-humoured grin on his +apish face, and dressed gorgeously. He wore a high +white hat tilted backward, a snowy waistcoat, a dazzling +tie, and a black frock-coat, with an enormous red +rose in the button hole. His legs, which now formed +two sides of an equilateral triangle with the floor for +its base, were encased in startling checks, and his feet, +which were small, in the glossiest patent leather. His +left hand rested gloved upon his hip, and four fingers +of his ungloved right hand were thrust into his waistcoat +pocket, leaving the little one in the cold with a +diamond of magnitude flashing from its lowest joint.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Euchred?" this gentleman simply asked, in a nasal +tone of immense mirth.</p> + +<p class="indent">"If you mean do I know you, I don't," said Dick, +only a degree less haughtily than if he had come +straight from Oxford instead of from the bush.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What! you don't remember me?" exclaimed the +man more explicitly, his fingers itching to leap from +the waistcoat-pocket.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 67]</span> +Dick stared an uncompromising denial.</p> + +<p class="indent">The diamond flashed in his eyes, and a small piece +of pasteboard was held in front of him, on which were +engraved these words:</p> + +<p class="indent">"The Hon. Stephen Biggs."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick repressed an insane impulse to explode with +laughter.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What! of Marshall's Creek?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"The same."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick stretched out his hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A thousand pardons, my dear fellow; but how +could I expect to see you here? And—the Honourable?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah!" said Mr. Biggs, with legitimate pride, "that +knocks you, old man! It was only the Legislative +Assembly when you and me was mates; it's the Legislative +Council now. I'm in the Upper 'Ouse, my +son!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I'm sure I congratulate you," said Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">"But 'ang the 'andle," continued the senator magnanimously; +"call me Steve just the same."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, it's like the whiff of the gum leaves to see +you again, Steve. When did you arrive?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Last week. You see," confidentially, "I'm in +my noo rig out—the best your London can do; +though, after all, this Colony'll do as good any day +in the week. I can't see where it is you do things better +than we do. However, come and have a drink, old +man."</p> + +<p class="indent">In vain Dick protested that he was not thirsty; Mr. +Biggs was. Besides, bushmen are not to be denied +or trifled with on such points. The little man seized +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 68]</span> +Dick's arm, marched him to the nearest bar, and called +for beer.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah!" sighed Mr. Biggs, setting down his tankard, +"this is the one point where the Old Country licks us. +This Colony can't come within a cooee of you with the +beer, and I'm the first to own it! We kep' nothing +like this at my place on the Murray, now did we?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was forced to shake his head, for, in fact, the +Honourable Stephen had formerly kept a flourishing +"hotel" on the Murray, where the Colonial beer had +been no better than—other Colonial beer—a brew with +a bad name. Dick observed an odd habit Mr. Biggs +had of referring to his native heath as though he were +still on it, speaking of his country as he would have +spoken of it out there—as "this Colony."</p> + +<p class="indent">The Honourable Steve now insisted on tacking himself +on to Dick, and they roamed the Exhibition together. +Biggs talked volubly of his impressions of +England and the English (he had crowded a great deal +into his first few days, and had already "done" half +London), of the Exhibition, of being fêted by the +flower of Britain and fed on the fat of the land; and +though his English was scarcely impeccable a vein of +shrewd common sense ran through his observations +which was as admirable in the man (he had risen very +rapidly even for Australia) as it was characteristic of +his class.</p> + +<p class="indent">"By-the-bye," said Mr. Biggs, after they had freely +criticised the romantic group of blacks and fauna in the +South Australian Court, "have you seen the Hut?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No," said Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then come on; it's the best thing in the whole +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 69]</span> +show; and," dropping his voice mysteriously, "there's +the rummest go there you ever saw in your life."</p> + +<p class="indent">Everybody remembers the Settler's Hut. It was a +most realistic property, with its strips of bark and its +bench and wash-basin, though some bushmen were +heard to deny below their breath the existence of any +hut so spick and span "where they come from."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Good!" said Dick, as soon as he saw the Hut. +"That's the real thing, if you like."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Half a shake," said Mr. Biggs, "and I'll show you +something realler." He drew Dick to the window of +the hut. "Look there!" he whispered, pointing +within.</p> + +<p class="indent">Three or four persons were inspecting the interior, +and debating aloud as to how they personally should +care to live in such a place; and each, as he surveyed +the rude walls, the huge fireplace, the primitive cooking +utensils, reserved his most inquisitive scrutiny for +an oddly-dressed man who sat motionless and silent on +the low bank, as though the Hut belonged to him. A +more colourable inference would have been that the +man belonged to the Hut; and in that case he must +have been admitted the most picturesque exhibit in the +Colonial Courts, as he looked the most genuine; for +the man was dressed in the simple mode of an Australian +stockman, and looked the part from the thin +soles of his plain side-spring boots to the crown of his +cabbage-tree hat. From under the broad brim of the +latter a pair of quick, dark eyes played restlessly +among the people who passed in and out, or thronged +the door of the hut. His shoulders were bent, and +his head habitually thrust forward, so that it was impossible, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 70]</span> +in the half-light, to clearly make out the features; +but long, iron-gray locks fell over the collar of +his coarse tweed coat, and a bushy, pepper-and-salt +beard hid the throat and the upper portion of the chest. +Old though the man undoubtedly was, his massive +frame suggested muscularity that must once have been +enormous, and must still be considerable.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Now, what do you think of that cove?" inquired +the Hon. Stephen Biggs in a stage whisper.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why," said Dick, who was frowning in a puzzled +manner, "he looks the real thing too. I suppose +that's what he's there for. Now, I wonder where——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah, but it ain't that," broke in Biggs, "I've been +here every day, almost, and when I see him here every +day, too, I soon found out he don't belong to the place. +No; he's an ordinary customer, who pays his bob +every morning when the show opens, and stays till +closing-time. He's to be seen all over the Exhibition, +but generally at the Hut—most always about the +Hut."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, if he isn't paid for it, what on earth is his +object?" said Dick, as they moved away.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah," said Mr. Biggs darkly, "I have a notion of +my own about that, though some of the people that +belong to this here place share it with me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And?" said Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">"And," said Mr. Biggs with emphasis, "in my +opinion the fellow's the dead spit of a detective; what's +more, you may take your Colonial oath he is one!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well," said Dick coolly, "I've seen him before, +though I can't tell where. I remember his bulk and +shape better than his face."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 71]</span> +"Yes? By Jove, my boy, you may be the very man +he's after!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Biggs burst into a loud guffaw; then turned +grave in a moment, and repeated impressively: "A +detective—my oath!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"But he looks a genuine Australian, if ever I saw +one," objected Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, maybe he's what he looks."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then do you think he's come over on purpose? +It must be a big job."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I think he has. It must."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah," said Dick, "then I have seen him out there +somewhere; probably in Melbourne."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Quite likely," said Mr. Biggs. "There are plenty +of his sort in this Colony, and as sharp as you'll find +anywhere else, my word!"</p> + +<p class="indent">A little later they left the Exhibition, and spent the +evening together.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 72]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">THE ADMIRABLE MILES</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">If</span> Mr. Miles was systematically "spoilt" by the +Bristos, he was more or less entitled to the treatment, +since it is not every guest who has had the privilege +of saving his host from drowning. But Mr. Miles +was in other ways an exceptional visitor. He contrived +to create entertainment instead of requiring it. +He was no anxiety to anybody; he upset no household +routine; he might have remained for months, and not +outstayed his welcome; from the first he made himself +at home in the most agreeable fashion. In a word, he +was a very charming man.</p> + +<p class="indent">Moreover, he was unlike other men: he was far +more independent, and far less conventional. It was +impossible to measure him by a commonplace standard. +He had little peculiarities which would not have +recommended other men, but which in his case were +considered virtues: he was quite artless in matters of +etiquette. Indeed, he was a splendid specimen of free, +ingenuous manhood—an ideal Australian, according +to the notions of the old country.</p> + +<p class="indent">The least breath against their guest on conventional +grounds would have been indignantly resented by the +Graysbrooke people. They put upon his peculiarities +an interpretation which in Mrs. Parish's case resolved +itself into a formula:</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 73]</span> +"They are so free-and-easy out there; they despise +conventionality; they are natural. Oh that we were +all Australians!" (Mr. Miles was the one Australian +of her acquaintance.)</p> + +<p class="indent">Thus when he swore unmistakably at a clumsy oarsman +while piloting the ladies through a crowded lock, +the offence was hushed up with a formula; and so +were other offences, since formulas will cover anything.</p> + +<p class="indent">One day Mrs. Parish, going into the drawing-room, +paused on the threshold with an angry sniff.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Smoke—in here! It is the very first time in all +these years," severely to Alice, "that I have ever +known your papa—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was not papa, it was Mr. Miles," said Alice +quietly. "He walked in with his pipe, and I really +did not like to tell him. I believe he has gone for +more tobacco."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, how stupid of me! Of course, with Mr. +Miles it is quite different." (Mrs. Parish assumed +an indulgent tone.) "He is not used to such restraints. +You were quite right to say nothing about +it. He shall smoke where he likes."</p> + +<p class="indent">Again the little old lady came to Alice, and said +very gravely:</p> + +<p class="indent">"My dear, did you notice the way our visitor refused +the hock this evening? Of course they do not +drink such stuff in the bush, and he must have what +he is accustomed to. I will arrange with Tomlin to +have the whisky decanter placed quietly in front of +him for the future."</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice, for her part, not only permitted but abetted +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 74]</span> +this system of indulgence; for she agreed with Mrs. +Parish that the guest was a noble creature, for whose +personal comfort it was impossible to show too much +solicitude—which, indeed, was the least they could do. +He had saved her father's life.</p> + +<p class="indent">That incident—which she had related to Dick with +a wonderful absence of feminine exaggeration—had +been in itself enough to plant in her heart a very real +regard for Mr. Miles. That was but natural; but one +or two other things which came to her knowledge +furthered this regard.</p> + +<p class="indent">One Saturday morning in Kingston market-place +Alice met a bosom friend, who informed her that she +had seen the Graysbrooke pleasure-boat being towed +up-stream by a tall gentleman—("So handsome, my +dear; who is he?")—while a miserable, half-starved +wretch sat luxuriously in the stern-sheets. Rallied +with this, the Australian's brick-dust complexion became +a shade deeper. Then he made a clean breast +of the affair, in his usual quiet tone, but with a nearer +approach to diffidence than he had yet shown them. +He had gone out for a solitary pull, and had no sooner +started than a cadaverous creature with a tow-rope +pestered him for a job. Miles had refused the man; +doubted his strength to tow a flea with a silk thread; +and observed that he, Miles, was more fit to tow the +other, if it came to that. At this, Miles, being sworn +at for making game of a starving man, had promptly +landed, forced the man, speechless with amazement, +into the boat, towed him to Kingston, and left him +to a good dinner, with some wholesome advice touching +immediate emigration.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 75]</span> +A few days later, at dusk on a wet afternoon, Mrs. +Parish, from her bedroom window, saw Mr. Miles +walk quickly up the drive in his shirt-sleeves. It +transpired that he had given his coat to a ragged, +shivering tramp on the London road—plus the address +of the Emigration Office.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You see," he said, on both these occasions, "I +never saw anything half so bad in my own country. +If you aren't used to it, it knocks a man's heart to see +a poor devil so far gone as all that."</p> + +<p class="indent">In short, Mr. Miles exhibited to the Bristos, on several +occasions, a propensity to odd and impulsive generosity; +and the point told considerably in their general +regard for the man, which day by day grew more +profound.</p> + +<p class="indent">Among other peculiarities, so excellently appreciated, +Mr. Miles had a singular manner of speaking. +It was an eminently calm manner; but for the ring +of quiet audacity in every tone, it might have been +called a subdued manner. He never raised his voice; +he never spoke with heat. When he said to Colonel +Bristo, clinging to him in the sea, "If you hang on +like that I must fell you," his tone was as smooth as +when he afterwards apologised for the threat. When +he paid Alice his first compliment he did so without +the smallest hesitation, and in his ordinary tone; and +his compliments were of the most direct order. They +once heard him threaten to thrash a bargee for ill-treating +a horse, and they were amazed when the man +sulkily desisted; the threat was so gently and dispassionately +uttered. As for his adventures, they were +told with so much of detail and gravity that the manner +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 76]</span> +carried conviction where the matter was most +fantastic. Miles was the best of "good company." +Apart from the supreme service rendered to him, Colonel +Bristo was fully persuaded that he was entertaining +the best fellow in the world. Add to this that Mrs. +Parish adored the handsome Australian, while Alice +meekly revered him, and it will be easily seen that a +hostile opinion of their hero was well calculated to +recoil on its advocate.</p> + +<p class="indent">During the short period in which the hero was also +the stranger, he spent all his time in the Colonel's society. +Apparently the two men found many subjects +of mutual interest. Once, when Alice interrupted +them in the study, Mr. Miles seemed to be eloquently +enumerating the resources and capabilities of some remote +district of the Antipodes; for though she spent +some minutes getting a book, he took no notice of her +presence in the room. On another occasion Alice saw +her father examining a kind of map or plan, while Mr. +Miles bent over him in explanation. She afterwards +learnt that this was a plan of the Queensland station +of which Mr. Miles was part owner.</p> + +<p class="indent">After the first day or two it seemed evident that Mr. +Miles disliked the society of ladies.</p> + +<p class="indent">On the third evening, however, the men patronised +the drawing-room for half-an-hour, and the Colonel +asked Alice to sing something. She sang, and Mr. +Miles listened. When she had finished, Mr. Miles +coolly asked her to sing again. The following night +he extracted three songs from her. Then Mr. Miles +began to spend less time in his host's sanctum. He +cultivated Alice; he interested himself in her amusements—photography +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 77]</span> +for one; he got her to sing to +him in the daytime. He was civil to Mrs. Parish.</p> + +<p class="indent">When the young lady sat down to the piano, this +sun-burned Apollo did not hang over her, as other +men did (when they got the chance); nor did he turn +over a bar too soon or too late—like the others. He +made no pretence of polite assistance, not he. But +he flung himself in a chair, threw back his head, and +drank in every note. At first it was generally with +his back to the piano, and always with closed eyes. +Then he found another chair—one a little further +away, but so placed that the girl's profile was stamped +like a silhouette on the sunlit window, directly in his +line of vision. And he no longer listened with closed +eyelids.</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Parish, a keen observer, hovered about during +these performances, and noted these things. She had +perceived at the time the impression Alice's first song +made upon Mr. Miles: she saw that he had regarded +the girl from that moment with a newly awakened +interest. Thenceforth he had made himself agreeable +to both ladies, whereas before he had ignored them +both. Now, although she knew well enough that +Miles's attentions, so far as she was concerned, could +be but politic, yet such was the inveterate vanity of this +elderly duenna that she derived therefrom no small +personal gratification. An impudent compliment +thrilled her as it might have thrilled a schoolgirl. But +this did not prevent her seeing what was really going +on, nor secretly rejoicing at what she saw.</p> + +<p class="indent">She watched the pair together from the first. She +watched the girl innocently betray her veneration for +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 78]</span> +the man who had saved her father's life. She knew +that it is perilous for a man to see that a girl thinks +him a hero, and she awaited results. She soon fancied +that she saw some. She thought that Miles's habitual +insouciance was a trifle less apparent when he conversed +with Alice; certainly his eyes began to follow +her and rest upon her; for Mr. Miles did such things +openly. But she detected no corresponding symptoms +in Alice; so one day she told her bluntly: "Mr. +Miles is falling in love with you, child."</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice was startled, and coloured with simple annoyance.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What nonsense!" she said indignantly.</p> + +<p class="indent">Immediately she thought of the absent Dick, and +her blush deepened—because she thought of him so +seldom. Mrs. Parish replied that it was not nonsense, +but, instead of urging proofs in support of her +statement, contented herself with cataloguing Mr. +Miles's kingly attributes. Here Alice could not contradict +her. The old lady even spoke of the station +in Queensland and the house at Sydney. Encouraged +by the girl's silence, however, she overshot the mark +with a parallel reference—and not a kind one—to Dick +Edmonstone. She saw her mistake at once, but too +late; without a word Alice turned coldly from her, and +they barely exchanged civilities during the rest of that +day.</p> + +<p class="indent">From that moment Miss Bristo's manner towards +Mr. Miles was changed. Mrs. Parish had put into +her head a thought that had never once occurred to +her. An innocent pleasure was poisoned for her. +She did not quite give up the songs, and the rest, but +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 79]</span> +she became self-conscious, and developed a sudden +preference for that society which is said to be no company +at all.</p> + +<p class="indent">At this juncture the ship <i>Hesper</i> entered the Channel, +and was duly reported in the newspapers. Alice +saw the announcement, and knew that in two or three +days she should see her lover. These days she spent +in thought.</p> + +<p class="indent">At seventeen she had been madly in love with young +Edmonstone—what is called a "romantic" or +"school-girl" affair—chiefly sentimental on her side, +terribly earnest on his. At eighteen—parted many +months from a sweetheart from whom she never +heard, and beginning to think of him daily instead of +hourly—she asked herself whether this was really love. +At nineteen, it was possible to get through a day—days, +even—without devoting sentimental minutes to +the absent one. Alice was at least madly in love no +longer. There remained a very real regard for Dick, +a constant prayer for his welfare, a doubt as to whether +he would ever come home again, a wondering (if he +did) whether she could ever be the same to him again, +or he to her; nothing more.</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Parish was in a great measure responsible for +all this. That excellent woman had predicted from +the first that Dick would never make his fortune (it +was not done nowadays), and that he would never +come back. Another factor was the ripening of her +understanding, aided by a modicum of worldly experience +which came to her at first-hand. Alice was +honoured with two proposals of marriage, and in each +case the rejected (both were wife-hunting) consoled +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 80]</span> +himself elsewhere within three months. To this +groundwork Mrs. Parish added some judicious facts +from her own experience; and this old lady happened +to be the girl's only confidante and adviser. Alice +gathered that, though man's honour might be a steadfast +rock, his love was but a shifting sand. Thus +there were such things as men marrying where they +had ceased to love; thus Dick might return and profess +love for her which was no longer sincere.</p> + +<p class="indent">In the end Miss Bristo was left, like many other +young ladies, with an imperfect knowledge of her own +mind, and attempted, unlike most young ladies, to +mould her doubts into a definite and logical form. +She did arrive at a conclusion—when she learned that +Dick was nearly home. This conclusion was, that, +whatever happened, there must be no immediate engagement: +she did not know whether Dick loved her +still—she was not absolutely sure that she still loved +him.</p> + +<p class="indent">We have seen how she communicated her decision +to Dick. His manifest agony when he heard it sent +a thrill through her heart—a thrill that recalled the +old romance. The manly way in which he afterwards +accepted his fate touched her still more. She began +to think that she might after all have mistaken herself +of late; and this notion would probably have become +a conviction but for one circumstance—the presence +of Mr. Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was jealous: she saw it, or thought she saw +it, from the first. This vexed her, and she had not +bargained to be vexed by Dick. It made her more +than half-inclined to give him something to be jealous +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 81]</span> +of. Accordingly she was once or twice so malicious +as to throw Mr. Miles in his teeth in their conversations, +and watch the effect. And the effect did not +please her.</p> + +<p class="indent">On the other hand, about Mr. Miles there was no +particle of jealousy (one thing more to his credit). +Why, he had asked with the greatest interest all about +Dick, after he had gone that first evening; and her +answers had been most circumspect: she had let him +suppose that Dick was a squatter during his whole +term in Australia. After that Mr. Miles had asked no +more. But Dick had never asked one word about +Mr. Miles until he had been in England a fortnight, +and then he offended her deeply. Up to that point +her interest in Dick had been gradually growing more +tender; she felt him to be true and brave, and honoured +him; and contrasted her own fickleness with +his honest worth. Once or twice she felt a longing to +make him happy. Even as she felt herself irresistibly +bowed down before him her idol fell. From this man, +whom she was learning to truly love, came a mean, +unmanly suggestion. To further his progress with +her he stooped to slander the man whom he was +pleased to consider his rival, and that rival the +noblest, the most generous of men.</p> + +<p class="indent">She could not easily forgive this; she could never +forget it, and never think quite the same of Dick +afterwards. And then the conduct of the other one +was so different! Her manner instinctively warmed +towards Mr. Miles: she should be his champion +through thick and thin. As for Dick, after that little +scene, he did not come near Graysbrooke for a week.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 82]</span> +Now, during that week, the words that had offended +her recurred many times to Alice. The pale, earnest, +honest face with which Dick had uttered them also +rose in her mind. Was it possible that his suspicion +could be absolutely groundless? Was it not credible +that he might have reasons for speaking—mistaken +ones, of course—which he could not reveal to her? +In any case, his words rankled; and so much sting +is seldom left by words which we have already dismissed, +once and for all, as utterly and entirely false.</p> + +<p class="indent">During that week, moreover, there occurred a frivolous +incident, of which Alice would have thought +nothing before the expression of Dick's suspicions +but which now puzzled her sorely. One brilliant afternoon +she found herself completely indolent. She +wandered idly into the garden, and presently came +upon a rather droll sight: her father and Mr. Miles, +sound asleep, side by side, in a couple of basket-chairs +under the shade of a weeping willow. The girl conceived +a happy roguery: what a subject for a photograph! +She stole into the house for her camera. +When she returned, her father was gone. She was +disappointed, hesitated a few moments, and then +coolly photographed the still unconscious Mr. Miles. +An hour later she greeted him with the negative—an +excellent one.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You said you had never been taken," said she +mischievously. "Well, here is your first portrait. It +will be capital."</p> + +<p class="indent">He asked to look at it, in his quiet way. Alice +handed him the dripping glass. He had no sooner +held it up to the light than it slipped through his +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 83]</span> +fingers, and broke into a dozen fragments upon the +gravel path.</p> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Miles apologised coldly, and proceeded to pick +up the pieces with a provoking smile. Alice was +irate, and accused him of breaking her negative purposely. +Mr. Miles replied with charming candour that +he had never been photographed in his life, and never +meant to be. Already blaming herself for having +yielded to a silly impulse, and one which was even +open to wrong construction, Alice said no more; and +presently, when the Australian gravely begged her +forgiveness, it was granted with equal gravity. Nevertheless +she was puzzled. Why should Mr. Miles so +dread a photograph of himself? What had he to fear? +Would Dick add this to his little list of suspicious circumstances? +If he did, it would be the first item not +utterly absurd. What if she were to tell him, and see!</p> + +<p class="indent">As it happened, Dick called the very next day, a +Wednesday, and the last day in June. Alice received +him coldly. There was a natural restraint on both +sides, but she thawed before he went. As he was saying +good-bye, she asked him (casually) if he would +come on Friday afternoon—the day of her dance—and +help with the floor and things. She really wished +him to come very much, for she foresaw an opportunity +for explanation, without which the evening +would be a misery to her; besides, they could talk +over Mr. Miles fairly and confidentially. Dick jumped +at it, poor fellow, brightened up at once, and walked +home a happier man.</p> + +<p class="indent">The following day Alice accompanied her father to +town, on pleasure bent. The little jaunt had been +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 84]</span> +long arranged, and Mr. Miles was their efficient +escort.</p> + +<p class="indent">That was on Thursday, July 1st.</p> + +<p class="indent">Unfortunately for Mr. Biggs, M.L.C., he could not +spend all his days at the Exhibition, so that a certain +little drama, not widely differing from that astute +legislator's preconception, was at last played to an +altogether unappreciative house. The facts are these:</p> + +<p class="indent">About four in the afternoon, an old gentleman, +with snowy whiskers and hair, and with a very +charming girl upon his arm, looked into the Settler's +Hut. They did not remain within above ten seconds; +but during those ten seconds the genus loci—who +was in his customary place on the bunk—heard a +voice without which caused him to start, pull the +brim of his cabbage-tree hat further over his eyes, and +draw a long breath through his teeth.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I won't come in," said this voice, which was low +and unconcerned; "I've seen it before; besides, I +know the kind of thing rather too well."</p> + +<p class="indent">The shadows of the old gentleman and the girl had +hardly disappeared from the threshold when the man +in the cabbage-tree hat and side-spring boots rose +swiftly, and peered stealthily after them. What he +saw caused him to smile with malignant triumph. A +tall, well-dressed man walked beside the old gentleman +and his daughter.</p> + +<p class="indent">The watcher allowed them to pass almost out of +sight, then followed warily. He followed them all +the afternoon, keeping so far behind, and dodging +so cleverly, that they never saw him. When the trio +at length quitted the building and took a cab, this +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 85]</span> +man followed through the streets at a double. He +followed them to Waterloo. He got into the same +train with them. They got out at a station on the +loop line; he got out also, paid his fare to the ticket +collector, and once more dogged his quarry. An +hour later the cabbage-tree hat was attracting attention +on that same suburban platform; later still the +occupants of a third-class smoking carriage in an up +train thought that they had never before seen such an +evil expression as that which the broad brim of the +cabbage-tree hat only partially concealed.</p> + +<p class="indent">This also was on the 1st of July.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 86]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + +<p class="h2a">A DANCING LESSON AND ITS CONSEQUENCES</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">To</span> enter a cricket-field in mid-winter and a ballroom +at midday are analogous trials, and serious ones +to enthusiasts in either arena; but the former is a less +depressing sight in January than in December, while +there is something even inspiriting about a ballroom +the day before the dance.</p> + +<p class="indent">When, quite early in the afternoon, Alice slipped +unobserved into the cool and empty dining-room, her +cheeks glowed, her eyes sparkled, and the hard boards +yielded like air beneath her airy feet. She shut the +door quietly, though with an elbow; her hands were +full. She carried two long wax candles that knew no +flame, two gleaming dinner-knives, and a pair of +scissors. These were deposited on a chair—provisionally—while +the young lady inspected the floor +with critical gaze.</p> + +<p class="indent">She frowned—the floor was far from perfect. She +slid out one small foot, as if trying dubious ice—yes, +most imperfect. The other foot followed; it would +be impossible to dance on a floor like this. Next +instant the lie was given to this verdict by the judge +herself, for Miss Bristo was skimming like a swallow +round the room.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 87]</span> +Would you see a graceful maiden at her best? +Then watch her dancing. Would you behold her +most sweet? Then catch her unawares—if you can. +Most graceful and most sweet, then—I admit that the +combination is a rare one, but she should be dancing +all alone; for, alas! the ballroom has its mask, and the +dual dance its trammels.</p> + +<p class="indent">In this instance it was only that Alice desired to +try the floor, and to assure herself that her feet had +lost none of their cunning; and only once round. +No, twice; for, after all, the floor was not so very +bad, while the practice was very good, and—the sensation +was delicious. Yet a third round—a last one—with +quickened breath and heightened colour, and +supple curves and feet more nimble, and a summer +gown like a silver cloud, now floating in the wake of +the pliant form, now clinging tenderly as she swiftly +turned. And none to see her!</p> + +<p class="indent">What, none?</p> + +<p class="indent">As Alice came to an abrupt pause in front of her +cutlery and candles, a deep soft voice said, "Bravo!"</p> + +<p class="indent">She looked quickly up, and the base of a narrow +open window at the end of the room was filled by a +pair of broad shoulders; and well set up on the shoulders +was a handsome, leonine face, with a blond beard +and a pair of bold, smiling eyes.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Bravo, Miss Bristo!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, really, Mr. Miles—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Now don't be angry—you can't be so unreasonable. +I was out here; I saw something white and +dazzling pass the window twice; and the third time +I thought I'd see what it was. I came and looked, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 88]</span> +and thought it was an angel turned deserter, and +dancing for joy to be on earth again! There was no +harm in that, was there?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"There is a great deal of harm in compliments," +said Alice severely; "especially when they are wicked +as well as rude."</p> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Miles smiled up at her through the window, +completely unabashed.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I forgot. Of course it was rude to liken you to +gods I never saw, and never hope to see. Forgive +me!"</p> + +<p class="indent">But Alice was thinking that her freak required a +word of explanation.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I was only just trying the floor," she said. "I +never dreamt that anyone would be so mean as to +watch me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Unfortunately one can't learn from merely watching," +Mr. Miles replied, quietly raising himself upon +the sill. "You surely haven't forgotten the lesson +you promised to give me?"—swinging his legs into +the room—"I claim that lesson now." He towered +above her, a column of gray tweed, his arms folded +lightly across his massive chest.</p> + +<p class="indent">The window by which Miles entered was five feet +above the river lawn, and one of three at that end of +the room—the other walls had none. Standing with +one's back to these windows, the door was on the +right hand side, and, facing it, a double door communicating +with the conservatory. Before this double +door, which was ajar, hung a heavy curtain, awaiting +adjustment for the evening.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I did not ask you in," remarked Alice with some +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 89]</span> +indignation. It was just like Mr. Miles, this; and for +once he really was not wanted.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Unfortunately, no; you forced me to ask myself. +But about the lesson? You know I never danced in +my life; am I to disgrace my country to-night?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You should have come to me this morning."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You were—cooking, I believe."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Thank you, Mr. Miles! Then yesterday."</p> + +<p class="indent">"We were all in town. Now do be the angel you +looked a minute since, Miss Bristo, and show me the +ropes. It won't take you ten minutes; I assure you +I'm a quick learner. Why, if it's time you grudge, +we have wasted ten minutes already, talking about +it."</p> + +<p class="indent">Impudence could no higher climb; but Mr. Miles +was not as other men are—at least, not in this house. +There was nothing for it but to give in, show him +the rudiments, and get rid of them as quickly as possible; +for Dick might arrive at any moment.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ten minutes is all I shall give you, then. Attention! +One, two, three; one, two, three; so! Can you +do it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Of course he could not, after a niggardly example +of half-a-dozen steps: he did not try; he insisted on +her waltzing once right round the room very slowly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then it is your last chance," exclaimed Alice. +"Now watch: you begin so: one—a long one, remember—then +two, three—little quick ones. Now +try. No, you needn't lift your feet; you are not +stamping for an encore, Mr. Miles. It is all done by +sliding, like this. Now, try again."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles bent his six feet three into five feet nothing, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 90]</span> +and slid gravely round with an anxious watch upon +his feet.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, you are bent double," cried Miss Bristo, +sharply; "and, let me tell you, you will never learn +while you look at your feet."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles stopped short.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then how am I to learn?" he asked, gazing helplessly +at his instructress.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice burst out laughing.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You had better lock yourself in your room and +practise hard until evening. The ten minutes are up; +but you have exactly six hours and twenty-nine minutes +before you, if you make haste."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, you shall suffer if I cut a poor figure to-night, +Miss Bristo, and it will serve you right, for I +intend to have my share of your dances."</p> + +<p class="indent">"That remains to be seen," said Alice tritely.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Stay, though," said Miles, drawing himself up to +the last of his seventy-five inches, and speaking in +that smooth, matter-of-fact tone that ushered in his +most astounding audacities, "suppose we two try—in +double harness—now?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Mr. Miles!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Miss Bristo, I am sure I should get on a thousand +times better. Is it so very much to ask?" he added +humbly—for him.</p> + +<p class="indent">The inner Alice echoed the question: Was it so +very much to ask—or to grant? The answer came at +once: To anyone else, yes; to Mr. Miles, no; grave, +heroic, middle-aged Mr. Miles! With a mighty show +of condescension, Miss Bristo agreed to one round, +and not a step more. She would not have been called +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 91]</span> +prude for the world; but unluckily, prudery and prudence +so often go hand in hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">The two went whirling round the empty room. +Before they were half-way round, Alice exclaimed:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You have cheated; never danced, indeed!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He murmured that it was so many years ago, he +thought he had forgotten. Having thus discovered +that she could teach her pupil nothing, it was Alice's +plain duty to stop; but this she forgot to do. Mr. +Miles, for his part, said not a word, but held her +firmly. He, in fact, waltzed better than any man she +had ever danced with. Two rounds—three—six—without +a word.</p> + +<p class="indent">Even if they had not been dancing they might have +failed to hear a buoyant footstep that entered the +conservatory at this time; for the worst of an india-rubber +sole is the catlike tread that it gives the +most artless wearer. But it was an unfortunate circumstance +that they did just then happen to be +dancing.</p> + +<p class="indent">There is no excuse for Miss Bristo, that I know of. +Pleas of faulty training or simplicity within her years +would, one feels, be futile. Without doubt she behaved +as the girl of this period is not intended to +behave; let her be blamed accordingly. She did not +go unpunished.</p> + +<p class="indent">After waltzing for no less a space than five minutes—in +a ballroom bare as a crypt, in broad daylight, +and in silence—Alice, happening to look up, saw a +look on her partner's face which made her tremble. +She had never seen a similar expression.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was pale and resolute—stern, terrible. She disengaged +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 92]</span> +herself with little ado, and sank quietly into +a chair by the window.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A fine 'one round'!" she said demurely; "but +it shall be deducted from your allowance this evening."</p> + +<p class="indent">She could not see him; he was behind her. His +eyes were devouring the shapely little head dipped +in the gold of the afternoon sun. Her face he could +not see—only the tips of two dainty ears and they +were pink. But a single lock of hair—a wilful lock +that had got astray in the dance, and lay on her +shoulder like a wisp of sunlit hay—attracted his attention, +and held it. When he managed to release +his eyes, they roved swiftly round the room, and +finally rested upon another chair within his reach, on +which lay two wax-candles, two dinner-knives, and a +pair of scissors.</p> + +<p class="indent">A click of steel an inch from her ear caused Alice +to start from her chair and turn round. Mr. Miles—pale, +but otherwise undisturbed—stood holding the +scissors in his right hand, and in his left was a lock of +her hair. For one moment Miss Bristo was dumb +with indignation. Then her lips parted; but before +she could say a word the door-handle turned, Mr. +Miles dropped the scissors upon the chair and put +his left hand in his pocket, and the head and shoulders +of Colonel Bristo were thrust into the room.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah, I have found you at last!" the old gentleman +cried with an indulgent smile. "If you are at liberty, +and Alice don't mind, we will speak of—that matter—in +my study."</p> + +<p class="indent">"My lesson is just over," said Miles, bowing to +Alice. He moved towards the door; with his fingers +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 93]</span> +upon the handle, he turned, and for an instant regarded +Alice with a calm, insolent, yet tender gaze; +then the door closed, and Alice was alone.</p> + +<p class="indent">She heard the footsteps echo down the passage; +she heard another door open and shut. The next +sound that reached her ears was at the other side of +the room in which she sat. She glanced quickly +toward the curtained door: a man stood between it +and her. It was Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice recoiled in her chair. She saw before her a +face pale with passion; for the first time in her life +she encountered the eyes of an angry man. She +quailed; a strange thrill crept through her frame; she +could only look and listen. It seemed an age before +Dick spoke. When he did speak, it was in a voice far +calmer than she expected. She did not know that +the calm was forced, and therefore the more ominous.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have only one thing to ask," he began hurriedly, +in a low tone: "was this a plot? If it was, do say so, +and so far as I am concerned its effect shall be quick +enough: I will go at once. Only I want to know the +worst, to begin with."</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice sat like a stone. She gave no sign that she +had so much as heard him. Poor girl, the irony of +Fate seemed directed against her! She had invited +Dick on purpose to consult him about Mr. Miles, and +now—and now—</p> + +<p class="indent">"You don't speak," pursued Dick, less steadily; +"but you must. I mean to have my answer before +either of us leaves this room. I mean to know all +there is to know. There shall be an end to this fooling +between us two!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 94]</span> +"What right have you to speak to me like this?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"The right of a true lover—hopeless of late, yet +still that! Answer me: had you planned this?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You know that is absurd."</p> + +<p class="indent">How coldly, how evenly she spoke! Was her heart +of ice? But Dick—there was little of the "true +lover" in his looks, and much of the true hater. Yet +even now, one gentle word, one tender look from him, +and tears of pity and penitence might still have flowed. +His next words froze them.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No conspiracy, then! Merely artless, honest, +downright love-making; dancing—alone—and giving +locks of hair and (though only by coincidence!) the +man you loved once and enslaved for ever—this man +of all others asked by you to come at this very hour, +and, in fact, turning up in the middle of it! And this +was chance. I am glad to hear it!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Men have been called hard names for speaking to +women less harshly than this—even on greater provocation; +but let it be remembered that he had loved +her long years better than his life; that he had +wrenched himself from England and from her—for +her sake; that during all that time her image had +been graven on his soul. And, further, that he had +led a rough life in rough places, where men lose their +shallower refinements, and whence only the stout +spirits emerge at all.</p> + +<p class="indent">When recrimination becomes insult a woman is no +longer defenceless; right or wrong in the beginning, +she is right now; she needs no more than the consciousness +of this to quicken her wit and whet her +tongue.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 95]</span> +"I do not understand you," exclaimed Alice, looking +him splendidly in the face. "Have the goodness +to explain yourself before I say the last word that +shall ever pass between you and me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, I will explain," cried Dick, beside himself—"I +will explain your treatment of me! While you +knew I was on my way to you—while I was on the +very sea—you took away your love from me, and gave +it to another man. Since then see how you have +treated me! Well, that man—the man you flatter, +and pet, and coquette with; the man who kennels here +like a tame dog—is a rogue: a rogue and a villain, +mark my words!"</p> + +<p class="indent">In the midst of passion that gathered before his eyes +a marble statue, pure and cold, seemed to rise out +of the ground in front of him.</p> + +<p class="indent">"One word," said Alice Bristo, in the kind of voice +that might come from marble: "the last one. You +spoke of putting an end to something existing between +us—'fooling' was the word you used. Well, +there was something between us long ago, though +you might have found a prettier word for it; but it +also ended long ago; and you have known that some +weeks. There has since been friendship; yes, you +shall have an end put to that too, though you might +have asked it differently. Stay, I have not finished. +You spoke of Mr. Miles; most of what you said was +beneath notice; indeed, you have so far lost self-control +that I think you cannot know now what you +said a minute ago. But you spoke of Mr. Miles in +a cruel, wicked way. You have said behind his back +what you dare not say to his face. He at least is +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 96]</span> +generous and good; he at least never forgets that he +is a gentleman; but then, you see, he is so infinitely +nobler, and truer, and greater than you—this man +you dare to call a villain!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You love him!" cried Dick fiercely.</p> + +<p class="indent">Instead of answering, Alice lowered her eyes. +Stung to the quick—sick and sore at heart—revenge +came within her reach in too sweet a form to be +resisted.</p> + +<p class="indent">Never was lie better acted. Dick was staggered. +He approached her unsteadily.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is a villain that you love!" he gasped. "I +know it—a villain and an impostor! But I will unmask +him with my own hands—so help me God!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He raised his pale face upward as he spoke, smiting +his palms together with a dull dead thud. Next moment +he had vaulted through the open window by +which Miles had entered so short a time before—and +was gone.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="indent">Meanwhile an interview of a very different character +took place in Colonel Bristo's sanctum. It +ended thus:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then you are quite sure that this hundred will be +enough for you to go on with?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"More than enough; fifty would have done. Another +Queensland mail is due a month hence; and +they can never fail me twice running."</p> + +<p class="indent">"But you say you are so far up country that you +do not send down to meet every mail. Your partner +may not have thought you likely to run short."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I wired him some weeks ago that I had miscalculated +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 97]</span> +damages. I should have had my draft by this +mail but for the floods. I feel confident they have +prevented him sending down in time; there has been +mention of these floods several times in the papers."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, my dear Miles, if you want more, there is +more where this came from. I cashed the cheque +myself this morning, by the way; I happened to be +in the bank, and I thought you would like it better. +Here they are—ten tens."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Colonel Bristo, I can never express—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Don't try, sir. You saved my life."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 98]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + +<p class="h2a">AN OLD FRIEND AND AN OLD MEMORY</p> + +<p class="indent">When Dick Edmonstone opened the garden gate +of Iris Lodge he was no longer excited. The storm +that had so lately shaken his frame and lashed his +spirit had spent its frenzy; no such traces as heaving +breast or quickened pulse remained to tell of it. The +man was calm—despair had calmed him; the stillness +of settled gloom had entered his soul. His step was +firm but heavy; the eye was vacant; lips like blanched +iron; the whole face pale and rigid.</p> + +<p class="indent">These are hall-marks graven by misery on the face +of man; they are universal and obvious enough, +though not always at the first glance. For instance, +if prepared with a pleasant surprise for another, one +is naturally slow to detect his dismal mood. Thus, +no sooner had Dick set foot upon the garden path +than the front door was flung open, and there stood +Fanny, beaming with good-humour, good news on the +tip of her tongue. It was like sunrise facing a leaden +bank of western clouds.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, Dick, there is someone waiting to see you! +You will never guess; it is a bush friend of yours. +Such an amusing creature!" she added sotto voce.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick stood still on the path and groaned. "Biggs!" +he muttered in despair.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 99]</span> +Nothing directs attention to the face so surely as +the voice. There was such utter weariness in this one +word that Fanny glanced keenly at her brother, saw +the dulness of his eyes, read for apathy agony, and +knew that instant that there had been a cruel crisis +in his affair with Alice Bristo.</p> + +<p class="indent">Instead of betraying her insight, she went quickly +to him with a bright smile, laid her hand on his arm, +and said:</p> + +<p class="indent">"His name is not Biggs, Dick dear. It is—but you +will be very glad to see him! Come in at once."</p> + +<p class="indent">A flash of interest lit up Dick's clouded face; he +followed Fanny into the hall, and there, darkening +the nearest doorway, stood a burly figure. The light +of the room being behind this man, Dick could not +at once distinguish his features. While he hesitated, +a well-remembered falsetto asked if he had forgotten +his old mate. Then Dick sprang forward with outstretched +hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dear old Jack, as I live!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dear old humbug! Let me tell you you've done +your level best to miss me. An hour and a half have +I been here, a nuisance to these ladies—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, no, Dick; Mr. Flint has done nothing but +entertain us," put in Mrs. Edmonstone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A charitable version," said Flint, bowing clumsily. +"But I tell you, my boy, in half-an-hour my +train goes."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Don't delude yourself," said Dick; "you won't +get off so easily to-night, let alone half-an-hour."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Must, sir," Jack Flint replied. "Leave Dover by +to-night's boat—holiday. If you'd only come in +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 100]</span> +sooner! I wonder now where he's been?" Flint added, +with a comic expression on his good-natured +face.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No place that I wouldn't have left for an hour or +two with you, old chap," said Dick in a strange tone; +"nowhere very pleasant."</p> + +<p class="indent">Nothing better could have happened to Dick just +then than seeing the chum from whom he had parted +nearly three years ago. It was as though his good +angel had stored up for him a sovereign simple, +and administered it at the moment it was most needed. +In the presence of Flint he had escaped for a +few minutes from the full sense of his anguish. But +now, by an unlucky remark, Jack had undone his +good work as unconsciously as he had effected it. +Dick remembered bitterly that long ago he had told +his friend all about his love—as it then stood.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Mr. Flint has been telling us some of your adventures, +which it seems we should never have heard +from you," observed Fanny, reproachfully.</p> + +<p class="indent">This was quite true. Once snubbed at Graysbrooke, +his system of silence on that subject had been +extended to Iris Lodge. One set of people had voted +his experiences tiresome; that was enough for him. +This was doubtless unfair to his family, but it was not +unnatural in Dick. He was almost morbid on the +point.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Indeed!" he replied; "but suppose he gives us +some of his Irish adventures instead? How many +times have they tried to pot you, my unjust landlord? +You must know, mother, that this is not only my ex-partner +in an honourable commercial enterprise—not +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 101]</span> +only 'our Mr. Flint' that used to be—but John Flint, +Esq., J.P., of Castle Flint, county Kerry; certainly a +landholder, and of course—it goes without saying—a +tyrant."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Really?" said Mrs. Edmonstone. "He did not +tell us that."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It's the unhappy fact," said Flint, gloomily. "A +few hundred acres of hills and heather, and a barn +called by courtesy 'Castle'; those are my feudal possessions. +The scenery is gorgeous, but the land—is +a caution!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Barren?" asked Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">"As Riverina in a drought."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And the tenants?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, as to the tenants, we hit it off pretty well. It's +in North Kerry they're lively. I'm in the south, you +see, and there they're peaceable enough. Laziness is +their worst crime. I do all I can for 'em, but I don't +see how I can hold on much longer."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Evict?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No," said Flint, warmly; "I'd rather emigrate, +and take the whole boiling of them with me; take up +new country, and let them select on it. Dick, you +savage, don't laugh; I'm not joking. I've thought +about it often."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Would you really like to go back to Australia, +Mr. Flint?" Mrs. Edmonstone asked, glancing at the +same time rather anxiously at her son.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Shouldn't mind, madam," returned Flint.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No more should I!" broke in Dick, in a harsh +voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint looked anxiously at his friend, and made a +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 102]</span> +mental note that Dick had not found all things quite +as he expected. For a minute no one spoke; then +Fanny took the opportunity of returning to her former +charge.</p> + +<p class="indent">"We have heard some of your adventures which +you seemed determined to keep to yourself. I think +it was very mean of you, and so does mamma. Oh, +Dick, why—why did you never tell us about the +bush-ranger?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Edmonstone gazed fondly at her son—and +shivered.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Has he told you that?" Dick asked quickly. +"Jack, old chap"—rather reproachfully—"it was a +thing I never spoke of."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nonsense, my dear fellow!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, it's a fact. I never cared to talk about it, I +felt it so strongly."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Too strongly," said Flint; "I said so at the +time."</p> + +<p class="indent">For a little while Dick was silent; then he said:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Since he has told you, it doesn't matter. I can +only say it nearly drove me out of my mind; it was +the bitterest hour of my life!"</p> + +<p class="indent">A little earlier that day this would have been true.</p> + +<p class="indent">His mother's eyes filled with tears. "I can understand +your feeling, dear Dick," she murmured; "yet +I wish you had told us—though, indeed, it would +have made me miserable if you had written it. But +now Mr. Flint has given us a graphic account of the +whole incident. Thank Heaven you were spared, my +boy!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Thank Sundown," said Dick dryly.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 103]</span> +"Oh, yes!" cried Fanny. "Noble fellow! Poor, +wicked, generous man! I didn't think such robbers +existed; I thought they went out with wigs and +patches, a hundred years ago."</p> + +<p class="indent">"So they did," muttered Flint. "They're extinct +as the dodo. I never could make this one out—a +deep dog."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, sir," exclaimed Mrs. Edmonstone, "do you +think there is no spark of goodness in the worst natures? +of truth in the falsest? of generosity in the most +selfish?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Jack Flint looked quaintly solemn; his face was in +shadow, luckily.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," said Dick, gravely, "my mother is right; +there was a good impulse left in that poor fellow, +and if you find gold in an outlaw and a thief, you +may look for it anywhere. But in my opinion there +was more than a remnant of good in that man. Think +of it. He saved me from being knifed, to begin with; +well, it was to his own interest to do that. But after +that he took pity, and left us our money. That needed +more than a good impulse; it needed a force of character +which few honest men have. Try and realise +his position—a price upon him, his hand against the +world and the world's hand against him, a villain by +profession, not credited with a single virtue except +courage, not bound by a single law of God or man; +a man you would have thought incapable of compassion; +and yet—well, you know what he did."</p> + +<p class="indent">There was a manly fervour in his voice which went +straight to the hearts of his mother and sister. They +could not speak. Even Flint forgot to look sceptical.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 104]</span> +"If it had not meant so much to me, that hundred +pounds," Dick continued, as though arguing with +himself, "it is possible that I might think less of the +fellow. I don't know, but I doubt it, for we had no +notion then what that hundred would turn to. As it +is, I have thought of it very often. You remember, +Jack, how much more that hundred seemed to me at +that time than it really was, and how much less to +you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was a hundred and thirty," said Flint; "I +remember that you didn't forget the odd thirty +then."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dick," Fanny presently exclaimed, out of a brown +study, "what do you think you would do if—you ever +met that bushranger again. I mean, if he was at your +mercy, you know?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint sighed, and prepared his spirit for heroics.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No use thinking," Dick answered. "By this time +he's a life—if they didn't hang him."</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint became suddenly animated.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What?" he cried, sharply.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, the last I heard of him—the day I sailed +from Melbourne—was, that he was captured somewhere +up in Queensland."</p> + +<p class="indent">"If you had sailed a day later you would have heard +more."</p> + +<p class="indent">"What?" asked Dick, in his turn.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He escaped."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Escaped?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"The same night. He got clean away from the +police-barracks at Mount Clarence—that was the +little Queensland township. They never caught him. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 105]</span> +They believe he managed to clear out of the country—to +America, probably."</p> + +<p class="indent">"By Jove, I'm not sorry!" exclaimed Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Here are some newspaper cuttings about him," +continued Flint, taking the scraps from his pocketbook +and handing them to Dick. "Read them afterwards; +they will interest you. He was taken along +with another fellow, but the other fellow was taken +dead—shot through the heart. That must have been +the one he called Ben; for the big brute who tried +to knife you had disappeared some time before. When +they were taken they were known to have a lot of +gold somewhere—I mean, Sundown was—for they +had just stuck up the Mount Clarence bank."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, I heard that when I heard of the capture."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, it was believed that Sundown feared an attack +from the police, and planted the swag, went back +to it after his escape, and got clear away with the lot. +But nothing is known; for neither Sundown nor the +gold was ever seen again."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Mamma, aren't you glad he escaped," cried +Fanny, with glowing cheeks. "It may be wicked, +but I know I am! Now, what would you do, Dick?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What's the good of talking about it?" said Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then I'll tell you what I'd do; I'd hide this poor +Sundown from justice; I'd give him a chance of trying +honesty, for a change—that's what I should do! +And if I were you, I should long and long and long +to do it!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint could not help smiling. Dick's sentiment on +the subject was sufficiently exaggerated; but this +young lady! Did this absurd romanticism run in the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 106]</span> +family? If so, was it the father, or the grandfather, +or the great-grandfather that died in a madhouse?</p> + +<p class="indent">But Dick gazed earnestly at his sister. Her eyes +shone like living coals in the twilight of the shaded +room. She was imaginative; and the story of Dick +and the bushranger appealed at once to her sensibilities +and her sympathy. She could see the night attack +in the silent forest, and a face of wild, picturesque +beauty—the ideal highwayman—was painted in vivid +colour on the canvas of her brain.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Fanny, I half think I might be tempted to do +something like that," said Dick gently. "I have +precious few maxims, but one is that he who does +me a good turn gets paid with interest—though I +have a parallel one for the man who works me a mischief."</p> + +<p class="indent">"So it is a good turn not to rob a man whom +you've already assaulted!" observed Flint ironically.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is a good turn to save a man's life."</p> + +<p class="indent">"True; but you seem to think more of your money +than your life!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I believe I did four years ago," said Dick, smiling, +but he checked his smile when Flint looked at +his watch and hastily rose.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick expostulated, almost to the extent of bluster, +but quite in vain; Flint was already shaking hands +with the ladies.</p> + +<p class="indent">"My dear fellow," said he, "I leave these shores +to-night; it's my annual holiday. I'm going to forget +my peasants for a few weeks in Paris and Italy. If +I lose this train I lose to-night's boat—I found out +that before I came; so good-bye, my—"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 107]</span> +"No, I'm coming to the station," said Dick; "at +least I stickle for that last office."</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Edmonstone hoped that Mr. Flint—her boy's +best friend, as she was assured—would see his way +to calling on his way home and staying a day or +two. Mr. Flint promised; then he and Dick left the +house.</p> + +<p class="indent">They were scarcely in the road before Flint stopped, +turned, laid a hand on each of Dick's shoulders, and +quickly delivered his mind:</p> + +<p class="indent">"There's something wrong. I saw it at once. Tell +me."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick lowered his eyes before his friend's searching +gaze.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, Jack," he answered, sadly, "it is all wrong!"</p> + +<p class="indent">And before they reached the station Flint knew all +that there was to know—an abridged but unvarnished +version—of the withering and dying of Dick's high +hopes.</p> + +<p class="indent">They talked softly together until the train steamed +into the station; and then it was Dick who at the last +moment returned to a matter just touched in passing:</p> + +<p class="indent">"As to this dance to-night—you say I must go?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Of course you must go. It would never do to +stay away. For one thing, your friend, the Colonel +might be hurt and bothered, and he is now your best +friend, mind. Then you must put a plucky face on it; +she mustn't see you cave in after the first facer. I half +think it isn't all up yet; you can't tell."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick shook his head.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I would rather not go; it will be wormwood to +me; you know what it will be: the two together. And +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 108]</span> +I know it's all up. You don't understand women, +Jack."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you?" asked the other, keenly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"She couldn't deny that—that—I can't say it, +Jack."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah, but you enraged her first! Anyway, you +ought to go to-night for your people's sake. Your +sister's looking forward to it tremendously; never +been to a ball with you before; she told me so. By +Jove! I wished I was going myself."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I wish you were, instead of me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nonsense! I say, stand clear. Good-bye!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Away went the train and Jack Flint. And Dick +stood alone on the platform—all the more alone because +his hand still tingled from the pressure of that +honest grip; because cheering tones still rang in his +ears, while his heart turned sick, and very lonely.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 109]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + +<p class="h2a">DRESSING, DANCING, LOOKING ON</p> + +<p class="indent">The Bristos dined early that evening, and dressed +afterwards; but only the Colonel and Miles sat down. +Mrs. Parish was far too busy, adding everywhere finishing +touches from her own deft hand; while as for +Alice, she took tea only, in her room.</p> + +<p class="indent">When Mr. Miles went up-stairs to dress, the red +sunlight still streamed in slanting rays through the +open window. His room was large and pleasant, and +faced the drive.</p> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Miles appeared to be in excellent spirits. He +whistled softly to himself—one of Alice's songs; a +quiet smile lurked about the corners of his mouth; +but since his yellow moustache was long and heavy, +this smile was more apparent in the expression of +the eyes. He moved about very softly for such a +heavy man—almost noiselessly, in fact; but this +practice was habitual with him.</p> + +<p class="indent">His dress-clothes were already laid out on the bed; +they seemed never to have been worn. His portmanteau, +which stood in one corner, also appeared +to have seen little service: it would have been hard +to find a scratch on the leather, and the glossy surface +bore but one porter's label. But, naturally enough, +Miles's belongings were new: a fresh outfit from +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 110]</span> +head to heel is no slight temptation to the Australian +in London.</p> + +<p class="indent">The first step towards dressing for a ball is to undress; +the first step towards undressing is to empty +one's pockets. With Miles this evening this was +rather an interesting operation. It necessitated several +niceties of manipulation, and occupied some little +time. Miles carefully drew down the blinds as a preliminary, +and bolted the door.</p> + +<p class="indent">He then crossed to the mantel-piece, lit the gas, +and felt in his breast-pocket.</p> + +<p class="indent">The first thing to be removed from this pocket was +an envelope—an envelope considerably thickened by +its contents, which crackled between the fingers. +Miles dropped the envelope into the fender after withdrawing +the contents. These he smoothed out upon +the mantel-piece; he fairly beamed upon them; they +were ten Bank of England ten-pound notes. Then +he counted them, folded them into small compass, +and transferred them to the trousers-pocket of his +evening dress. In doing this his smile became so +broad that his whistling ended rather abruptly. It +was a pleasant smile.</p> + +<p class="indent">The next incumbrance of which he relieved himself +came from that same breast-pocket; but it was less +easily placed elsewhere—so much less that the whistling +was dropped altogether, and, instead of smiling, +Mr. Miles frowned. Nay, a discovery that his dress-coat +had no breast-pocket was followed by quite a +volley of oaths. Swearing, however, is a common failing +of the most estimable bushmen; so that, coming +from a man like Miles, the words meant simply nothing. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 111]</span> +Miles then tried the trousers-pocket which did +not contain the bank-notes; but though the article was—of +its kind—remarkably small, it was obviously too +large for such a pocket, and for the tail-pockets it was +too heavy. Mr. Miles looked seriously put out. His +face wore just that expression which might be produced +by the rupture of a habit or rule of life that has +become second nature. In despair and disgust he +dropped the thing into his travelling bag, which he +was careful to lock at once, and placed the key in the +pocket with the notes: the thing was a small revolver.</p> + +<p class="indent">There followed, from the waistcoat, penknife, pencilcase, +watch and chain, and, lastly, something that +created a strange and instant change in the expression +of Mr. Miles; and this, though it was the veriest trifle, +lying in a twisted scrap of printed paper. He spread +and smoothed out the paper just as he had done with +the notes, and something was displayed on its surface: +something—to judge by the greedy gaze that devoured +it—of greater value than the bank-notes, and +to be parted with less willingly than the revolver. It +was a lock of light-coloured hair.</p> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Miles again unlocked his travelling bag, and +took from it a packet of oiled-silk, a pair of scissors, +tape, a needle and thread. It is a habit of many travellers +to have such things always about them. Miles, +for one, was very handy in the use of them, so that in +about ten minutes he produced a very neat little bag, +shaped like an arc, and hung upon a piece of tape +with ends sewn to the ends of the chord. Holding +this bag in his left hand, he now took very carefully, +between the thumb and finger of his right hand, the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 112]</span> +lock of light-coloured hair. He let it roll in his palm, +he placed his finger tips in the mouth of the little bag, +then paused, as if unwilling to let the hair escape his +hand, and, as he paused, his face bent down until his +beard touched his wrist. Had not the notion been +wildly absurd, one who witnessed the action might +have expected Mr. Miles to press his lips to the soft +tress that nestled in his palm; but, indeed, he did +nothing of the kind. He jerked up his head suddenly, +slipped the tress into its little case, and began at once +to stitch up the opening. As he did this, however, he +might have been closing the tomb upon all he loved—his +face was so sad. When the thread was secured +and broken, he loosed his collar and shirt-band and +hung the oiled-silk bag around his neck.</p> + +<p class="indent">At that moment a clock on the landing, chiming +the three-quarters after eight, bade him make haste. +There was good reason, it seemed, why he should be +downstairs before the guests began to arrive.</p> + +<p class="indent">In the drawing-room he found Colonel Bristo and +Mrs. Parish. In face benevolent rather than strong, +there was little in Colonel Bristo to suggest at any +time the Crimean hero; he might have been mistaken +for a prosperous stockbroker, but for a certain shyness +of manner incompatible with the part. To-night, +indeed, the military aspect belonged rather to the lady +housekeeper; for rustling impatiently in her handsome +black silk gown, springing up repeatedly at the +sound of imaginary wheels, Mrs. Parish resembled +nothing so much as an old war horse scenting battle. +She welcomed the entrance of Miles with effusion, +but Miles paid her little attention, and as little to his +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 113]</span> +host. He glanced quickly round the room, and bit +his lip with vexation; Miss Bristo was as yet invisible. +He crossed the hall by a kind of instinct, and looked +into the ballroom, and there he found her. She had +flitted down that moment.</p> + +<p class="indent">Her dress was partly like a crystal fall, and partly +like its silver spray; it was all creamy satin and tulle. +Or so, at least, it seemed to her partners whose knowledge, +of course, was not technical. One of them, who +did not catch her name on introduction—being a +stranger, brought under the wing of a lady with many +daughters—described her on his card simply as +"elbow sleeves;" and this must have been a young +gentleman of observation, since the sleeves—an artful +compromise between long and short—were rather +a striking feature to those who knew. Others remembered +her by her fan; but the callow ones saw nothing +but her face, and that haunted them—until the next +ball.</p> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Miles, however, was the favoured man who was +granted the first glimpse of this lovely apparition. +He also looked only at her face. Was she so very +indignant with him? Would she speak to him? +Would she refuse him the dances he had set his heart +on? If these questions were decided against him he +was prepared to humble himself at her feet; but he +soon found there was no necessity for that.</p> + +<p class="indent">For, though Alice was deeply angry with Mr. +Miles, she was ten times angrier with herself, and ten +times ten with Dick. Her manner was certainly cold, +but she seemed to have forgotten the gross liberty +Miles had taken in the afternoon; at any rate, she +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 114]</span> +made no allusion to it. She gave him dances—then +and there—since he brought her a programme, but in +doing so her thoughts were not of Miles. She gave +him literal carte blanche, but not to gratify herself or +him. There were too few ways open to her to punish +the insults she had received that day; but here was +one way—unless the object of her thoughts stayed +away.</p> + +<p class="indent">She hurried from the ballroom at the sound of +wheels. In a few minutes she was standing at her +father's side shaking hands with the people. She +seemed jubilant. She had a sunny smile and a word +or two for all. She was like a tinkling brook at summer +noon. Everyone spoke of her prettiness, and her +dress (the ladies whispered of this), and above all, her +splendid spirits. She found out, when it was over, that +she had shaken hands with the Edmonstones among +the rest. She had done so unconsciously, and Dick, +like everybody else, had probably received a charming +welcome from her lips.</p> + +<p class="indent">If that was the case he must have taken the greeting +for what it was worth, for he seized the first opportunity +to escape from Fanny and Maurice, who were +bent upon enjoying themselves thoroughly in unsentimental +fashion. He saw one or two men whom he +had known before he went to Australia, staring hard +at him, but he avoided them; he shrank into a corner +and called himself a fool for coming.</p> + +<p class="indent">He wanted to be alone, yet was painfully conscious +of the wretched figure cut by a companionless man in +a room full of people. If he talked to nobody people +would point at him. Thus perhaps: "The man who +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 115]</span> +made a fool of himself about Miss Bristo, don't you +know; went to Australia, made his fortune, and all the +rest of it, and now she won't look at him, poor dog!" +He was growing morbid. He made a pretence of +studying the water-colours on the wall, and wished in +his soul that he could make himself invisible.</p> + +<p class="indent">A slight rustle behind him caused him to turn round. +His heart rose in his throat; it was Alice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You must dance with me," she said coldly; and her +voice was the voice of command.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was electrified; he gazed at her without speaking. +Then a scornful light waxed in his eyes, and his +lips formed themselves into a sneer.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You can hardly refuse," she continued cuttingly. +"I do not wish to be questioned about you; there has +been a little too much of that. Therefore, please to +give me your arm. They have already begun."</p> + +<p class="indent">That was so; the room in which they stood was +almost empty. Without a word Dick gave her his arm.</p> + +<p class="indent">The crowd about the doorway of the ballroom made +way for them to pass, and a grim conceit which suggested +itself to Dick nearly made him laugh aloud.</p> + +<p class="indent">As they began to waltz Alice looked up at him with +flashing eyes.</p> + +<p class="indent">"If you hate this," she whispered between her teeth, +"imagine my feelings!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He knew that his touch must be like heated irons to +her; he wanted her to stop, but she would not let him. +As the couples thinned after the first few rounds she +seemed the more eager to dance on. One moment, +indeed, they had the floor entirely to themselves. Thus +everyone in the room had an opportunity of noticing +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 116]</span> +that Alice Bristo had given her first dance to Dick +Edmonstone.</p> + +<p class="indent">The Colonel saw it, and was glad; but he said to +himself, "The boy doesn't look happy enough; and as +for Alice—that's a strange expression of hers; I'll tell +her I don't admire it. Well, well, if they only get their +quarrels over first, it's all right, I suppose."</p> + +<p class="indent">Fanny noted it with delight. The one bar to her +complete happiness for the rest of the evening was now +removed. The best of dancers herself, she was sought +out by the best. To her a ball was a thing of intrinsic +delight, in no way connected with sentiment or nonsense.</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Parish also saw it, but from a very different +point of view. She bustled over to Mr. Miles, who was +standing near the piano, and asked him confidentially +if he had not secured some dances with Alice? He +showed her his card, and the old schemer returned +triumphant to her niche among the dowagers.</p> + +<p class="indent">He followed her, and wrote his name on her empty +card opposite the first square dance; a subtle man, this +Mr. Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">At the end of the waltz Miss Bristo thanked her +partner coldly, observed below her breath that she +should not trouble him again, bowed—and left him.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was done with dancing; he had not wished to +dance at all; but this one waltz was more than enough +for him—being with her. Love is responsible for +strange paradoxes.</p> + +<p class="indent">He found two men to talk to: men who gloried in +dancing, without greater aptitude for the art (for it is +one) than elephants shod with lead. Being notorious, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 117]</span> +these men never got partners, save occasional ladies +from remote districts, spending seasons with suburban +relatives. These men now greeted Dick more than +civilly, though they were accustomed to cut his brother, +the bank-clerk, every morning of their lives. They +remembered him from his infancy; they heard he had +done awfully well abroad, and congratulated him +floridly. They were anxious to hear all about Australia. +Dick corrected one or two notions entertained by them +respecting that country. He assured them that the +natives were frequently as white as they were. He +informed them, in reply to a question, that lions and +tigers did not prowl around people's premises in the +majority of Australian towns; nor, indeed, were those +animals to be found in the Colonies, except in cages. +He set them right on the usual points of elementary +geography. He explained the comprehensive meaning +of the term, "the bush."</p> + +<p class="indent">As Dick could at a pinch be fluent—when Australia +was the subject—and as his mood to-night was sufficiently +bitter, his intelligent questioners shortly sheered +off. They left him at least better-informed men. +Thereupon Dick returned to the ballroom with some +slight access of briskness, and buried himself in a little +knot of wall-flowers of both sexes.</p> + +<p class="indent">A dance had just begun—scarcely necessary to add, +a waltz. Every man blessed with a partner hastened +to fling his unit and hers into the whirling throng. +After a round or two, half the couples would pause, +and probably look on for the rest of the time; but it +seems to be a point of honour to begin with the music. +As Dick stood watching, his sister passed quite close +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 118]</span> +to him; she happened to be dancing with Maurice, +her very creditable pupil, but neither of them saw Dick. +Close behind them came a pair of even better dancers, +who threaded the moving maze without a pause or a +jar or a single false step; they steered so faultlessly that +a little path seemed always to open before them; +human teetotums, obstacles to every one else, seemed +mysteriously to melt at the graceful approach of these +two. But, in fact, it was impossible to follow any other +pair at the same time, so great were the ease, and +beauty, and harmony of this pair. They seemed to +need no rest; they seemed to yield themselves completely—no, +not to each other—but to the sweet influence +of the dreamy waltz.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick watched the pair whose exquisite dancing attracted +so much attention; his face was blank, but the +iron was in his soul. The other wallflowers also +watched them, and commented in whispers. Dick +overheard part of a conversation between a young lady +whose hair was red (but elaborately arranged), and a +still younger lady with hair (of the same warm tint) +hanging in a plait, who was presumably a sister, not +yet thoroughly "out." Here is as much of it as he +listened to:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, how beautifully they dance!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nonsense, child! No better than many others."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, of course, I don't know much about it. But +I thought they danced better than anyone in the room. +Who are they?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Don't speak so loud. You know very well that is +Miss Bristo herself; the man is—must be—Mr. Edmonstone."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 119]</span> +"Are they engaged?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, I believe they used to be. He went out to +Australia because he couldn't afford to marry (his +family were left as poor as mice!), but now he has come +back with a fortune, and of course it will be on again +now. I used to know him—to bow to—when they +lived on the river; I never saw anyone so much altered, +but still, that must be he."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, it must! See how sweet they——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Hush, child! You will be heard. But you are +quite right; didn't you see how——"</p> + +<p class="indent">That was as much as Dick could stand. He walked +away with a pale face and twitching fingers. He +escaped into the conservatory, and found a solitary +chair in the darkest corner. In three minutes the +waltz ended, and the move to the conservatory was so +general that for some minutes the double doors were +all too narrow. Before Dick could get away, a yellow-haired +youth with a pretty partner, less young than +himself, invaded the dark corner, and by their pretty +arrangement of two chairs effectually blocked Dick's +egress. They were somewhat breathless, having evidently +outstripped competitors for this nook only after +considerable exertion. The yellow-haired youth proceeded +to enter into a desperate flirtation—according +to his lights—with the pretty girl his senior: that is to +say, he breathed hard, sought and received permission +to manipulate the lady's fan, wielded it execrably, and +uttered commonplaces in tones of ingenuous pathos. +The conservatory, the plashing fountain, and the Chinese +lantern are indeed the accepted concomitants of +this kind of business, to judge by that class of modern +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 120]</span> +drawing-room songs which is its expositor. At length, +on being snubbed by the lady (he had hinted that she +should cut her remaining partners in his favour), the +young gentleman relapsed with many sighs into personal +history, which may have been cunningly intended +as an attack on her sympathy, but more probably arose +from the egotism of eighteen. He inveighed against +the barbarous system of superannuation that had removed +him from his public school; inquired repeatedly, +Wasn't it awfully hard lines? but finally extolled the +freedom of his present asylum, a neighbouring Army +crammer's, where (he declared) a fellow was treated +like a gentleman, not like a baby. He was plainly in +the confidential stage.</p> + +<p class="indent">All this mildly amused Dick, if anything; but presently +the victim of an evil system abruptly asked his +partner if she knew Miss Bristo very well.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not so very well," was the reply; "but why do you +ask?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Because—between you and me, you know—I don't +like her. She doesn't treat a fellow half civilly. You +ask for a waltz, and she gives you a square. Now I +know she'd waltzes to spare, 'cause I heard her give +one——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, so she snubbed you, eh?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, I suppose it does almost amount to that. +By the bye, is she engaged to that long chap who's been +dancing with her all the evening?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I believe she is; but——"</p> + +<p class="indent">It was a promising "but;" a "but" that would +become entre nous with very little pressing.</p> + +<p class="indent">"But what?"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 121]</span> +"It is a strange affair."</p> + +<p class="indent">"How?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, I ought not to say; but of course you would +never repeat——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Rather not; surely you can trust a fel——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, then, she used to be engaged—or perhaps +it wasn't an absolute engagement—to someone else: +he went out to Australia, and made money, and now +that he has come back she's thrown him over for this +Mr. Miles, who also comes from Australia. I know +it for a fact, because Mrs. Parish told mamma as +much."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Poor chap! Who is he?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Mr. Edmonstone; one of the Edmonstones who +lived in that big house across the river—surely you +remember?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, ah!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I believe he is here to-night—moping somewhere, +I suppose."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Poor chap! Hallo, there's the music! By Jove! +I say, this is awful; we shall have to part!"</p> + +<p class="indent">They went; and Dick rose up with a bitter smile. +He would have given much, very much, for the privilege +of wringing that young whippersnapper's neck. +Yet it was not the boy's fault; some fate pursued him: +there was no place for him—no peace for him—but in +the open air.</p> + +<p class="indent">A soft midsummer's night, and an evening breeze +that cooled his heated temples with its first sweet +breath. Oh, why had he not thought of coming out +long ago! He walked up and down the drive, slowly +at first, then at speed, as his misery grew upon him, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 122]</span> +and more times than he could count. The music +stopped, began again, and again ceased; it came to him +in gusts as he passed close to the front of the conservatory +on his beat. At last, when near the house, +he fancied he saw a dark motionless figure crouching +in the shrubbery that edged the lawn at the eastern +angle of the house.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick stopped short in his walk until fancy became +certainty; then he crept cautiously towards the figure.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 123]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">"TO-MORROW, AND TO-MORROW, AND TO-MORROW"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Mr. Miles</span> had written his name no fewer than six +times on Alice's card. On finding this out Alice had +resolved to recognise perhaps half these engagements—in +any case, no more than should suit her convenience. +After her dance with Dick she found it would +suit her admirably to recognise them all.</p> + +<p class="indent">For Dick had no word of apology or regret; in fact, +he did not speak at all. He did not even look sorry; +but only hard and cold and bitter. It was not in the +power of woman to treat such a man too harshly.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice therefore threw herself into these dances with +Miles with a zest which brought about one good result: +the mere physical effort gradually allayed the fever of +her spirit; with the even, rhythmical motion sufficient +peace stole into the heart of the girl to subdue the +passionate tumult of many hours. To this tranquillity +there presently succeeded the animation inseparable +from ardent exercise.</p> + +<p class="indent">While the music lasted Alice could scarcely bring +herself to pause; she seemed never to tire. Between +the dances she spoke little to her partner, but filled her +lungs with new breath, and waited impatiently for the +striking of a new note; and when the new note sounded +she turned to that partner with eyes that may have +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 124]</span> +meant to fill with gratitude, yet seemed to him to glow +with something else.</p> + +<p class="indent">Once, when he led her from the heated room, she +fancied many eyes were upon her. She heard whispers; +a murmur scarcely audible; a hum of wonder, of admiration, +perhaps of envy. Well, was she not to be +admired and envied? Could she not at least compare +with the fairest there in looks? Was there one with +a foot more light and nimble? And was not this, her +partner, the manliest yet most godlike man that ever +stooped to grace a ballroom?—and the best dancer into +the bargain?—and the most admirable altogether? +These questions were asked and answered in one proud +upward glance as she swept on his arm through the +throng.</p> + +<p class="indent">"She never looked so well before," exclaimed Mrs. +Parish, in an ecstatic aside to Colonel Bristo; "so +brilliant, so animated, so happy!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I don't agree with you," the Colonel answered +shortly; and he added, with strange insight in one +usually so unobservant: "Alice is not herself to-night."</p> + +<p class="indent">That seemed absurd on the face of it. Who that +watched her dancing could have admitted it for a +moment? Well, last of all, probably her partner.</p> + +<p class="indent">The music burst forth again. The dancers flocked +back to the room, Alice and Mr. Miles among them. +It was the sixth dance, and their third together.</p> + +<p class="indent">Again they were dancing together, the glassy floor +seeming to pass beneath their feet without effort of +theirs, the music beating like a pulse in the brain. As +for Alice, she forgot her partner, she forgot Dick, she +forgot the faces that fled before her eyes as she glided, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 125]</span> +and turned, and skimmed, and circled; she only knew +that she was whirling, whirling, and that for awhile +her heart was at rest.</p> + +<p class="indent">Before the dance was fairly over, Miles led his partner +into the conservatory, but said to her: "We will go +right through into the open air; it will be so much +pleasanter." And he did not wait her consent either—which +was characteristic.</p> + +<p class="indent">The smooth lawn leading down to the river was +illuminated, and now that it was quite dark it had a +very effective appearance, and was a charming resort +between the dances. The lawn was bounded on the +right by the little inlet which has been mentioned. +A rustic bridge crossed this inlet, leading into a +meadow, where seven tall poplars, in rigid rank, +fronted the river. Without a protest from the girl, +Miles led her over the bridge, and across the meadow, +and down to the river's brim, under the shadow of the +stately poplars. Most likely she did not heed where +they were going; at any rate, they had been there often +enough together before—in daylight.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was a heavenly night; the pale blue stars were +reflected in the black still mirror of the Thames, the +endless song of the weir was the only sound that broke +the absolute stillness of the meadow. No voices +reached them from the house, no strains of music. As +though influenced by the night, the two were silent for +some minutes; then Alice said lightly:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I am glad you brought me out; I was beginning to +stifle. What a lovely night! But I thought there +would be a moon. When is there a moon, Mr. Miles?"</p> + +<p class="indent">No answer but a deep breath, that was half a groan +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 126]</span> +Alice thought. Perhaps she was mistaken. She could +not see his face, unless she moved away from him, he +was so tall. She repeated the question:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I want to know when there will be a moon. It +would be so delicious now, if it shot up right over there, +to be reflected right down there—but why don't you +speak, Mr. Miles?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Still no answer. She drew back a step. He was +standing like a monument, tall and rigid, with his +hands clasped tightly in front of him and his face turned +slightly upward. He seemed unconscious of her presence +at his side. Something in his motionless attitude, +and the ghastly pallor of his face in the starlight, sent a +thrill of vague fear to the heart of Alice. She drew yet +a little farther from him, and asked timidly if anything +was the matter.</p> + +<p class="indent">Slowly he turned and faced her. His head drooped, +his shoulders sank forward. She could see little beads +glistening on his forehead. His hands loosed each +other, and his arms were lifted towards her, only to be +snatched back, and folded with a thud upon the breast. +There they seemed to sink and fall like logs upon a +swollen sea.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Matter?" he cried in a low, tremulous voice; then, +pausing, "nothing is the matter!" Then in a whisper, +"Nothing to tell you—now."</p> + +<p class="indent">A strange coldness overcame Alice—the sense of an +injury wrought in her carelessness on the man before +her. She tried to speak to him, but could find no +words. With a single glance of pity, she turned and +fled to the house. He did not follow her.</p> + +<p class="indent">So Mrs. Parish had been right, after all; and she, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 127]</span> +Alice—a dozen names occurred to her which she had +heard fastened upon women who sport with men's +hearts to while away an idle month.</p> + +<p class="indent">She reached the conservatory, but paused on the +stone steps, with a hand lightly laid on the iron balustrade—for +the floor-level was some feet above that of +the garden-path. The music was in full swing once +more, but Alice's attention was directed to another +sound—even, rapid, restless footsteps on the drive. +She peered in that direction; for it was possible, from +her position on these steps, to see both the river to the +left and the lodge-gates far off on the right—in daylight. +She had not long to wait. A figure crossed +quickly before her, coming from the front of the house: +a man—by his dress, one of the guests—and bare-headed. +When he first appeared, his back was half-turned +to her; as he followed the bend of the drive she +saw nothing but his back! then she lost sight of him +in the darkness and the shadows of the drive. Presently +she heard his steps returning; he was perambulating +a beat. Not to be seen by him as he neared +the house, Alice softly opened the door and entered the +conservatory. It was at that moment quite deserted. +She moved noiselessly to the southern angle, hid herself +among the plants, and peered through the glass. +It was very dark in this corner, and the foliage so thick +that there was small chance of her being seen from +without. The solitary figure passed below her, on the +other side of the glass; it was Dick: she had been sure +of it.</p> + +<p class="indent">She watched him cross and recross twice—thrice; +then she trembled violently, and the next time she +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 128]</span> +could not see him distinctly, because tears—tears of +pity—had started to her eyes. If a face—haggard, +drawn, white as death, hopeless as the grave—if such a +face is a sight for tears, then no wonder Alice wept. +Was it possible that this was he who landed in England +less than a month ago—so gay, so successful, so boyish? +He looked years older. The eager light had gone +out of his eyes. His step, so buoyant then, was heavy +now, though swift with the fever of unrest. He bent +forward as he walked, as though under a burden: a +month ago he had borne no burden. Was this the +man she had loved so wildly long ago—this wreck? +Was this the result of trying to rule her heart by her +head? Was this, then, her handiwork?</p> + +<p class="indent">Her cup to-night was to be filled to overflowing. +Even now her heart had gone out in pity to another +whom also she had wronged—in pity, but not in love. +For here, at last—at this moment—she could see before +her but one: the man who had loved her so long and +so well; the man who had once held her perfect sun +of love—Heaven help her, who held it still!</p> + +<p class="indent">A faintness overcame this frail girl. Her frame +shook with sobs. She could not see. She leant heavily +against the framework of the glass. She must have +fallen, but a gentle hand at that moment was thrust +under her arm.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, fancy finding you here! Your father sent +me—" the pleasant voice broke off suddenly, and Alice +felt herself caught in strong and tender arms. She +looked up and saw Dick's sister. Her poor beating +heart gave one bound, and then her head sank on +Fanny's shoulder.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 129]</span> +Presently she was able to whisper:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Take me up-stairs; I am ill. It has been a terrible +day for me!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Miles still stood by the river, erect, motionless; +his powerful hands joined in front of him in an iron +knot, his fine head thrown slightly backward, as though +in defiance. At first the thoughts in his mind were +vague. Then, very slowly, they began to take shape. +A little later his expression was soft and full of hope, +and his lips kept repeating inaudibly one word: the +word "to-morrow."</p> + +<p class="indent">Then in a moment his mind was chaos.</p> + +<p class="indent">There is nothing more confusing to the brain than +memory. Often there is nothing so agonising and unsparing +in its torture, when memory preys upon the +present, consuming all its peace and promise like some +foul vampire. Miles was now in the clutch of memory +in its form of monster. His teeth were clenched, his +face livid, the veins on his forehead standing out like the +spreading roots of an oak. Spots of blood stood under +the nails of his clenched fingers.</p> + +<p class="indent">The stars blinked high overhead, and the stars deep +down in the tranquil water answered them. The voice +of the weir seemed nearer and louder. A gentle breeze +stirred the line of poplars by the river's brink in the +meadow, and fanned the temples of the motionless man +at their feet. A bat passed close over him, lightly +touching his hair with its wing. Miles did not stir.</p> + +<p class="indent">Slowly—as it were, limb by limb—he was freeing +himself from the grip of the hideous past. At last, +with a sudden gesture, he flung back his head, and his +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 130]</span> +eyes gazed upward to the zenith. It was an awful +gaze: a vision of honour and happiness beyond a narrow +neck of crime—a glimpse of heaven across the +gulf of hell.</p> + +<p class="indent">His tongue articulated the word that had trembled +on his lips before: now it embodied a fixed resolve—"To-morrow! +to-morrow!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Miles became suddenly aware that his name +was being spoken somewhere in the distance by a voice +he knew—young Edmonstone's. A moment later the +speaker was with him, and had added:</p> + +<p class="indent">"There is someone who wants to speak to you, +standing outside the gate."</p> + +<p class="indent">There was a gleam of triumph in the younger man's +eyes that shot out from the misery of his face like +lightning from a cloud, throwing that misery into +stronger relief. Miles noted this swift gleam, and it +struck terror into his heart—at this moment, more +than terror. He was as a general who, on the eve of +the brilliant stroke that is to leave him conqueror, +hears the alarm sounded in his own rearguard. He +stared Dick up and down for some moments. When +he spoke, it was—to the ear—with perfect coolness:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Thanks. I half-expected something of the kind; +but it is an infernal nuisance to-night. I must get +a coat and hat, for I may have to go up to town at +once." And he strode away.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick watched him out of sight, admiring more than +anything he had seen in this man his readiness and +resource at this moment. He would have liked to +follow Miles, and keep him within reach or sight; but +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 131]</span> +those were not his directions. Instead, he crossed the +bridge, at once bore to the left, and crept into the +shrubbery. Keeping close to the wall, without stirring +a single leaf, he gained a spot within ten paces of the +gate, whence he could command most of the drive and +a fair slice of the road. In a minute Miles approached +at a swinging walk. He passed close to Dick, and +so through the gate. At that moment a man emerged +from the shadows at the other side of the road; it was +the man Dick had discovered in the shrubbery, though +he had seen him before—in the Settler's Hut!</p> + +<p class="indent">The two men were now but a few paces apart; with +little more than a yard between them, they stopped. +A low chuckle escaped one of them; but without +another sound they turned—passed slowly down the +road, side by side, and so out of sight.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick gasped: it was so very unlike his preconceived +notions of arrest!</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 132]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">IN BUSHEY PARK</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">"So</span> boss, you know me?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have not forgotten you, you scoundrel!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Such was the interchange of greetings between the +man from the Exhibition and Mr. Miles, the Australian. +They had halted at a lamp-post some distance +down the road, and stood facing each other in the +gaslight.</p> + +<p class="indent">"That's right. I'm glad you don't forget old +mates," said the stout, round-shouldered man. "That's +one good thing, anyway; but it's a bad'un to go calling +them names first set-off, especially when——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Look here," interrupted Miles, with an admirable +imitation of his ordinary tone; "I haven't much +time to give you, my man. How the deuce did you +get here? And what the deuce do you want with +me?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, so you're in a hurry, are you?" sneered the +man. "And you want to get back to the music, and +the wine, and the women, do you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Listen!" said Miles smoothly; "do you hear that +step in the distance? It's coming nearer; it's the +policeman, for certain; and if you don't get your business +stated and done with before he reaches us, I'll +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 133]</span> +give you in charge. Nothing simpler: I know the +men on this beat, and they know me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not so well as I do, I reckon!" returned the other +dryly, and with the quiet insolence of confident +security. "And so you're the fine gentleman now, +are you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"If you like—and for all you can prove to the contrary."</p> + +<p class="indent">"The Australian gentleman on a trip home, eh? +Good; very good! And your name is Miles!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"It's worth your neck to make it anything else?"</p> + +<p class="indent">The other thrust forward his face, and the beady +eyes glittered with a malignant fire. "You don't lose +much time about coming to threats, mate," he snarled. +"P'r'aps it'ud be better if you waited a bit; p'r'aps I'm +harder to funk than you think! Because I dare prove +to the contrary, and I dare give you your right name. +Have you forgotten it? Then I'll remind you; and +your friend the bobby shall hear too, now he's come +so close. How's this, then?—Edward Ryan, otherwise +Ned the Ranger; otherwise—and known all over the +world, this is—otherwise—"</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles stopped him with a rapid, fierce gesture, at +the same time quietly sliding his left hand within his +overcoat. He felt for his revolver. It was not there. +He recalled the circumstance which had compelled +him to lay it aside. It seemed like Fate: for months +that weapon had never been beyond the reach of his +hand; now, for the first time, he required it, and was +crippled for want of it. He recovered his composure +in a moment, but not before his discomfiture had been +noticed, and its cause shrewdly guessed. Laying a +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 134]</span> +heavy hand on the other's broad, rounded shoulder, +he said simply and impressively:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Hush!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then let's move on."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where we can talk."</p> + +<p class="indent">The man pointed across the road to a broad opening +directly opposite the lamp-post. It was the beginning +of another road; the spot where they stood was +indeed the junction of the cross and down-stroke of +a capital letter T, of which the cross was the road that +ran parallel with the river.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Very well," said Miles, with suspicious alacrity; +"but I must go back first to make some excuse, or +they will be sending after me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then, while you are gone, I shall confide in your +friend the policeman."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles uttered a curse, and led the way across the +road and straight on. There were no lamps in the +road they entered now—no houses, no lights of any +kind—but on the right a tall hedge, and on the left +trim posts and rails, with fields beyond. They walked +on for some minutes in silence, which was at length +broken by Miles's unwelcome visitor.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It's no sort o' use you being in a hurry," said he. +"I've found you out; why not make the best of it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What am I to do for you?" asked Miles, as +smoothly as though the man by his side were an ordinary +highway beggar.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You'll see in good time. Sorry I've put you to +inconvenience, but if you weren't passing for what you +ain't you wouldn't feel it so; so you see, Ned Ryan, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 135]</span> +playing the gent has its drawbacks. Now, after me +having crossed the whole blessed world to speak to +you, it would be roughish if you refused me your best +ear; now wouldn't it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You have just landed, then?" said Miles; and +added, after a pause, "I hoped you were dead."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Thanks," returned the other, in the tone of coarse +irony that he had employed from the beginning. +"Being one as returns good for evil, I don't mind +saying I was never so glad as when I clapped eyes on +you yesterday—alive and safe."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yesterday! Where?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Never mind where. But I ain't just landed—Oh, +no!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Suddenly Miles stopped short in his walk. They +had entered again the region of lights and houses; the +road was no longer dark and lonely; it had intersected +the highroad that leads to Kingston, and +afterwards bent in curves to the right; now its left +boundary was the white picket-fence of the railway, +and, a hundred yards beyond, a cluster of bright lights +indicated Teddington station.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not a step further," said Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What! not to the station? How can we talk—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are a greater fool than I took you for," said +Miles scornfully.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes? Well, anyway, I mean to say what I've got +to say, wherever it is," was the dogged reply. "If you +came to town to my lodging, not a soul could disturb +us. We can't talk here."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles hesitated.</p> + +<p class="indent">"There is a place, five minutes' walk from here, that +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 136]</span> +I would trust before any room," he said presently. +"Only be reasonable, my good fellow, and I'll hear +what you have to say there."</p> + +<p class="indent">The man turned his head and glanced sharply in +the direction whence they had come. Then he assented.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles led the way over the wooden footbridge that +spans the line a little way above the station. In three +minutes they walked in the shadow of great trees. +The high wall in front of them bent inwards, opening +a wide mouth. Here were iron gates and lamps; and +beyond, black forms and deep shadows, and the silence +of sleeping trees. Without a word they passed through +the gates into Bushey Park.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles chose the left side of the avenue, and led on +under the spreading branches of the horse-chestnuts. +Perhaps a furlong from the gates he stopped short, +and confronted his companion.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Here I will settle with you," he said, sternly. "Tell +me what you want; or first, if you like, how you found +me. For the last thing I remember of you, Jem Pound, +is that I sacked you from our little concern—for murder."</p> + +<p class="indent">The man took a short step forward, and hissed back +his retort:</p> + +<p class="indent">"And the last thing I heard of you—was your +sticking up the Mount Clarence bank, and taking five +hundred ounces of gold! You were taken; but escaped +the same night—with the swag. That's the last I heard +of you—Ned Ryan—Ned the Ranger—Sundown!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I can hang you for that murder," pursued Miles, +as though he had not heard a word of this retort.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 137]</span> +"Not without dragging yourself in after me, for +life; which you'd find the worse half of the bargain! +Now listen, Ned Ryan; I'll be plain with you. I can, +and mean to, bleed you for that gold—for my fair share +of it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And this is what you want with me?" asked +Miles, in a tone so low and yet so fierce that +the confidence of Jem Pound was for an instant +shaken.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I want money; I'm desperate—starving!" he answered, +his tone sinking for once into a whine.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Starvation doesn't carry a man half round the +world."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I was helped," said Pound darkly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Who helped you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"All in good time, Sundown, old mate! Come, +show me the colour of it first."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles spread out his arms with a gesture that was +candour itself.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have none to give you. I am cleaned out myself."</p> + +<p class="indent">"That's a lie!" cried Pound, with a savage oath.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles answered with cool contempt:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you think a man clears out with five hundred +ounces in his pockets? Do you think he could carry +it ten miles, let alone two hundred?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Jem Pound looked hard at the man who had been +his captain in a life of crime. A trace of the old +admiration and crude respect for a brilliant fearless +leader, succeeded though this had been by years of +bitter hatred, crept into his voice as he replied:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You could! No one else! No other man could +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 138]</span> +have escaped at all as you did. I don't know the thing +you couldn't do!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Fool!" muttered Miles, half to himself.</p> + +<p class="indent">"That's fool number two," answered Pound angrily. +"Well, maybe I am one, maybe I'm not; anyhow I've +done what a dozen traps have tried and failed, and I'll +go on failing—until I help them: I've run you to +earth, Ned Ryan!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah! Well, tell me how."</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, I heard a footstep just then; people are about."</p> + +<p class="indent">"A chance passer," said Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You should have come with me. Walls are safe +if you whisper; here there are no walls."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are right. We have stuck to the most public +part, though; follow me through here."</p> + +<p class="indent">They had been standing between two noble trees of +the main avenue. This avenue, as all the world knows, +is composed of nothing but horse chestnuts; but behind +the front rank on either side are four lines of +limes, forming to right and left of the great artery +four minor parallel channels. Miles and his companion, +turning inwards, crossed the soft sward of +the minor avenues, and emerged on the more or less +broken ground that expands southward to Hampton +Wick. This tract is patched in places with low +bracken, and dotted in others with young trees. It is +streaked with converging paths—some worn by the +heavy tread of men, others by the light feet of the deer, +but all soft and grassy, and no more conspicuous than +the delicate veins of a woman's hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">They left the trees behind, and strode on heedlessly +into the darkness. Their shins split the dew from the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 139]</span> +ferns; startled fawns rose in front of them and scampered +swiftly out of sight, a momentary patch of grey +upon the purple night.</p> + +<p class="indent">"This will suit you," said Miles, still striding aimlessly +on. "It is a good deal safer than houses here. +Now for your story."</p> + +<p class="indent">He was careful as they walked to keep a few inches +in the rear of Pound, who, for his part, never let his +right hand stray from a certain sheath that hung from +the belt under his coat: the two men had preserved +these counter-precautions from the moment they +quitted the lighted roads.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is soon told, though it makes me sweat to think +of it—all but the end, and that was so mighty neat +the rest's of no account," Pound began, with a low +laugh. "Well, you turned me adrift, and I lived like +a hunted dingo for very near a year. If I'd dared to +risk it, I'd have blabbed on you quick enough; but +there was no bait about Queen's evidence, and I +daren't let on a word else—you may thank the devil +for that, not me! Well, I had no money, but I got +some work at the stations, though in such mortal terror +that I daren't stay long in one place, until at last +I got a shepherd's billet, with a hut where no one saw +me from week's end to week's end. There I was safe, +but in hell! I daren't lay down o' nights; when I did +I couldn't sleep. I looked out o' the door twenty +times a night to see if they were coming for me. I saw +frightful things, and heard hellish sounds; I got the +horrors without a drop o' liquor! You did all this, +Ned Ryan—you did it all!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Inflamed by the memory of his torments, Pound +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 140]</span> +raised his voice in rage and hate that a single day had +exalted from impotency to might. But rage red-hot +only aggravates the composure of a cool antagonist, +and the reply was cold as death:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Blame yourself. If you had kept clean hands, you +might have stuck to us to the end; as it was, you would +have swung the lot of us in another month. No man +can accuse me of spilling blood—nor poor Hickey +either, for that matter; but you—I could dangle you +to-morrow! Remember that, Jem Pound; and go on."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I'll remember a bit more—you'll see!" returned +Pound with a stifled gasp. He was silent for the next +minute; then added in the tone of one who bides his +time to laugh last and loudest: "Go on? Right! +Well, then, after a long time I showed my nose in a +town, and no harm came of it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"What town?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Townsville."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why Townsville?" Miles asked quickly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Your good lady was there; I knew she would give +me—well, call it assistance."</p> + +<p class="indent">"That was clever of you," said Miles after a moment's +silence, but his calm utterance was less natural +than before.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I wanted a ship," Pound continued; "and could +have got one too, through being at sea before at odd +times, if I'd dared loaf about the quay by day. Well, +one dark night I was casting my eyes over the Torres +Straits mail boat, when a big man rushed by me and +crept on board like a cat. I knew it was you that +moment; I'd heard of your escape. You'd your swag +with you; the gold was in it—I knew it! What's the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 141]</span> +use of shaking your head? Of course it was. Well, +first I pushed forward to speak to you, then I drew +back. Why? Because just then you'd have thought +no more of knocking me on the head and watching +me drown before your eyes than I'd think of——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Committing another murder! By heaven, I wish +I had had the chance!" muttered Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then, if I'd started the hue and cry, it would have +meant killing the golden goose—and most likely me +with it. I thought of something better: I saw you +drop down into the hold—there was too much risk +in showing your money for a passage or trying for a +fo'c'stle berth; the boat was to sail at daylight. I +rushed to your wife and told her; but her cottage was +three miles out of the town, worse luck to it! and when +I got her to the quay, you were under way and nearly +out of sight—half-an-hour late in sailing, and you'd +have had a friend among the passengers!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"And what then?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, then your wife was mad! I soothed her: +she told me that she had some money, and I told her +if she gave me some of it I might still catch you for +her. I showed her how the mail from Sydney, by +changing at Brindisi, would land one in England before +the Queensland boat. I knew it was an off-chance +whether you ever meant to reach England at all, or +whether you'd succeed if you tried; but," said Pound, +lowering his voice unaccountably, "I was keen to be +quit of the country myself. Here was my chance, and +I took it; your wife shelled out, and I lost no time."</p> + +<p class="indent">The man ceased speaking, and looked sharply about +him. His eyes were become thoroughly used to the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 142]</span> +darkness, so that he could see some distance all round +with accuracy and ease; but they were eyes no less +keen than quick; and so sure-sighted that one glance +was at all times enough for them, and corroboration +by a second a thing unthought of.</p> + +<p class="indent">They were walking, more slowly now, on a soft +mossy path, and nearing a small plantation, chiefly of +pines and firs, half-a-mile from the avenues. This path, +as it approaches the trees, has beside it several saplings +shielded by tall triangular fences, which even in daylight +would afford very fair cover for a man's body. +Miles and Pound had passed close to half-a-dozen or +more of these triangles.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well?" said Miles; for Pound remained silent.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I am looking to see where you have brought me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have brought you to the best place of all, this +plantation," Miles answered, leaving the path and +picking his way over the uneven ground until there +were trees all round them. "Here we should be +neither seen nor heard if we stayed till daybreak. Are +you going on?"</p> + +<p class="indent">But Pound was not to be hurried until he had picked +out a spot to his liking still deeper in the plantation; +far from shaking his sense of security, the trees seemed +to afford him unexpected satisfaction. The place was +dark and silent as the tomb, though the eastern wall +of the park was but three hundred yards distant. +Looking towards this wall in winter, a long, unbroken +row of gaslights marks the road beyond; but in summer +the foliage of the lining trees only reveals a casual +glimmer, which adds by contrast to the solitude of this +sombre, isolated, apparently uncared-for coppice.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 143]</span> +"I reached London just before you," resumed +Pound, narrowly watching the effect of every word. +"I waited for your boat at the docks. There were +others waiting. I had to take care—they were detectives."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles uttered an ejaculation.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I watched them go on board; I watched them come +back—without you. They were white with disappointment. +Ned Ryan, those men would sell their souls to +lay hands on you now!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Go on!" said Miles between his teeth.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, I got drinking with the crew, and found +you'd fallen overboard coming up Channel—so they +thought; it happened in the night. But you've swum +swollen rivers, before my eyes, stronger than I ever +see man swim before or since, and I was suspicious. +Ships get so near the land coming up Channel. I went +away and made sure you were alive, if I could find +you. At last, by good luck, I did find you."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"At the Exhibition. I took to loafing about the +places you were sure to go to, sooner or later, as a +swell, thinking yourself safe as the Bank. And that's +where I found you—the swell all over, sure enough. +You stopped till the end, and that's how I lost you in +the crowd going out; but before that I got so close +I heard what you were saying to your swell friends: +how you'd bring 'em again, if they liked; what you'd +missed that day, but must see then. So I knew where +to wait about for you. But you took your time about +coming again. Every day I was waiting and watching—starving. A shilling a day to let me into the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 144]</span>ching—and +place; a quid in reserve for when the time came; and +pence for my meals. Do you think a trifle'll pay for +all that? When you did turn up again yesterday, you +may lay your life I never lost sight of you."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I should have known you any time; why you went +about in that rig——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I had no others. I heard fools whisper that I was +a detective, moreover, and that made me feel safe."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You followed me down here yesterday, did you? +Then why do nothing till to-night?"</p> + +<p class="indent">The fellow hesitated, and again peered rapidly into +every corner of the night.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why did you wait?" repeated Miles impatiently.</p> + +<p class="indent">An evil grin overspread the countenance of Jem +Pound. He seemed to be dallying with his answer—rolling +the sweet morsel on his tongue—as though loth +to part with the source of so much private satisfaction. +Miles perceived something of this, and, for the first +time that night, felt powerless to measure the extent +of his danger. Up to this point he had realised and +calculated to a nicety the strength of the hold of this +man over him, and he had flattered himself that it was +weak in comparison with his own counter-grip; but +now he suspected, nay felt, the nearness of another and +a stronger hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Answer, man," he cried, with a scarcely perceptible +tremor in his voice, "before I force you! Why did +you wait?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I went back," said Pound slowly, slipping his hand +beneath his coat, and comfortably grasping the haft +of his sheath-knife, "to report progress."</p> + +<p class="indent">"To whom?"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 145]</span> +"To—your wife!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Your wife!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are lying, my man," said Miles, with a forced +laugh. "She never came to England."</p> + +<p class="indent">"She didn't, didn't she? Why, of course you ought +to know best, even if you don't; but if you asked me, +I should say maybe she isn't a hundred miles from you +at this very instant!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Speak that lie again," cried Miles, his low voice +now fairly quivering with passion and terror, "and I +strike you dead where you stand! She is in Australia, +and you know it!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Jem Pound stepped two paces backward, and answered +in a loud, harsh tone:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You fool! she is here!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles stepped forward as if to carry out his threat; +but even as he moved he heard a rustle at his side, and +felt a light hand laid on his arm. He started, turned, +and looked round. There, by his side—poverty-stricken +almost to rags, yet dark and comely as the +summer's night—stood the woman whom years ago he +had made his wife!</p> + +<p class="indent">A low voice full of tears whispered his name: "Ned, +Ned!" and "Ned, Ned!" again and again.</p> + +<p class="indent">He made no answer, but stood like a granite pillar, +staring at her. She pressed his arm with one hand, +and laid the other caressingly on his breast; and as she +stood thus, gazing up through a mist into his stern, +cold face, this topmost hand rested heavily upon him. +To him it seemed like lead; until suddenly—did it press +a bruise or a wound, that such a hideous spasm should +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 146]</span> +cross his face? that he should shake off the woman so +savagely?</p> + +<p class="indent">By the merest accident, the touch of one woman had +conjured the vision of another; he saw before him two, +not one; two as opposite in their impressions on the +senses as the flower and the weed; as separate in +their associations as the angels of light and darkness.</p> + +<p class="indent">Yet this poor woman, the wife, could only creep +near him again—forgetting her repulse, since he was +calm the next moment—and press his hand to her lips, +so humbly that now he stood and bore it, and repeat +brokenly:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have found him! Oh, thank God! Now at last +I have found him!"</p> + +<p class="indent">While husband and wife stood thus, silenced—one +by love, the other by sensations of a very different +kind—the third person watched them with an expression +which slowly changed from blank surprise to mortification +and dumb rage. At last he seemed unable +to stand it any longer, for he sprang forward and whispered +hoarsely in the woman's ear:</p> + +<p class="indent">"What are you doing? Are you mad? What are +we here for? What have we crossed the sea for? Get +to work, you fool, or——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"To work to bleed me, between you!" cried Ned +Ryan, shaking himself again clear of the woman. "By +heaven, you shall find me a stone!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Elizabeth Ryan turned and faced her ally, and waved +him back with a commanding gesture.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, Jem Pound," said she, in a voice as clear and +true as a clarion, "it is time to tell the truth: I did not +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 147]</span> +come to England for that! O Ned, Ned! I have used +this man as my tool—can't you see?—to bring me to +you. Ned, my husband, I am by your side; have you +no word of welcome?"</p> + +<p class="indent">She clung to him, with supplication in her white +face and drooping, nerveless figure; and Pound looked +on speechless. So he had been fooled by this smooth-tongued, +fair-faced trash; and all his plans and schemes, +and hungry longings and golden expectations, were +to crumble into dust before treachery such as this! +So, after all, he had been but a dupe—a ladder to be +used and kicked aside! A burning desire came over +him to plunge his knife into this false demon's heart, +and end all.</p> + +<p class="indent">But Ryan pushed back his wife a third time, gently +but very firmly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Come, Liz," said he, coldly enough, yet with the +edge off his voice and manner, "don't give us any of +this. This was all over between us long ago. If it's +money you want, name a sum; though I have little +enough, you shall have what I can spare, for I swear +to you I got away with my life and little else. But if +it's sentiment, why, it's nonsense; and you know that +well enough."</p> + +<p class="indent">Elizabeth Ryan stood as one stabbed, who must fall +the moment the blade is withdrawn from the wound; +which office was promptly performed by one who +missed few opportunities.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, of course!" exclaimed Pound, with affected +sympathy with the wife and indignation against the +husband. "To be sure you see how the wind lies, +missis?"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 148]</span> +"What do you mean?" cried Elizabeth Ryan +fiercely.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Can't you see?" pursued Pound in the same tone, +adding a strong dash of vulgar familiarity; "can't you +see that you're out of the running, Liz, my lass? You +may be Mrs. Ryan, but Mrs. Ryan is a widow; there's +no Ned Ryan now. There's a Mr. Miles, an Australian +gentleman, in his skin, and, mark me, there'll be a +Mrs.—"</p> + +<p class="indent">He stopped, for Liz Ryan turned on him so fiercely +that it looked as though she was gathering herself to +spring at his throat.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You liar!" she shrieked. "Tell him, Ned! Give +him the lie yourself! Quickly—speak, or I shall go +mad!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Her husband uttered no sound.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He can't, you see," sneered Pound. "Why, if +you'd only come in with me into the garden, you'd +have seen the two together sweethearting in the starlight!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"If I had," said Mrs. Ryan, trembling violently, "I +pity both. But no, I don't believe it! O Ned! Ned! +answer, unless you want to break my heart!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, well, what does it matter?" put in Pound +hastily, speaking to her in a fatherly, protective tone, +which hit the mark aimed at. "Liz, my dear, you and I +have been good friends all this time; then why not let +him go his ways?—after we've got our rights, I mean."</p> + +<p class="indent">Ned Ryan glanced sharply from his wife to the man +who had brought her from Australia; and then he +spoke:</p> + +<p class="indent">"My good woman, why not be frank? What's the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 149]</span> +use of acting a part to me? Anyway, it's a bit too thin +this time. Only let me alone, and you two can go on—as +you are. Come now, I don't think I'm hard on +you; considering everything I might be a deal harder."</p> + +<p class="indent">His wife sprang before him, her black eyes flashing, +her whole frame quivering.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Edward Ryan, you shall answer for these foul, +cruel words before Him who knows them to be false. +What do you think me, I wonder? That vile thing +there—can't you see how I have used him?—he has +been the bridge between me and you, yet you make +him the barrier! Oh, you know me better than that, +Ned Ryan! You know me for the woman who sacrificed +all for you—who stood by you through thick and +thin, and good and bad, while you would let her—who +would not have forsaken you for twenty murders!—who +loved you better than life—God help me!" cried +the poor woman, wildly, "for I love you still!"</p> + +<p class="indent">She rose the next moment, and continued in a low, +hard, changed voice:</p> + +<p class="indent">"But love and hate lie close together; take care, +and do not make me hate you, for if you do I shall be +pitiless as I have been pitiful, cruel as I have been +fond. I, who have been ready all these years to shield +you with my life—I shall be the first to betray you to +the laws you have cheated, if you turn my love to hate. +Ned! Ned! stop and think before it is too late!"</p> + +<p class="indent">She pressed both hands upon her heart, as if to stay +by main force its tumultuous beating. Her limbs tottered +beneath her. Her face was like death. Her life's +blood might have mingled with the torrent of her +eloquence!</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 150]</span> +"You are beside yourself," said her husband, who +had listened like a stone; "otherwise you would +remember that tall talk never yet answered with me. +And yet—yet I am sorry for you—so poor, so ragged, +so thin—" His voice suddenly softened, and he felt +with his hand in his pocket. "See here! take these +twenty pounds. It's a big lump of all I have; but 'twill +buy you a new dress and some good food, and make +you decent for a bit, and if I had more to spare, upon +my soul you should have it!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Elizabeth Ryan snatched the notes from her husband's +hand, crumpled them savagely, and flung them +at his feet; with a wild sweep of her arm she tore off +her bonnet, as though it nursed the fire within her +brain, and coils of dark, disordered hair fell down +about her shoulders. For one moment she stood +glaring fixedly at her husband, and then fell heavily +to the ground.</p> + +<p class="indent">"She has fainted," said Miles, not without pity, and +bending over her. "Bring her to, then lead her away. +Take her back; she must not see me again."</p> + +<p class="indent">Pound knelt down, and quietly pocketed the +crumpled notes; then he raised the senseless head +and fanned the ashy face, looking up meanwhile and +saying:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Meet me here to-morrow night at ten; I will come +alone."</p> + +<p class="indent">"For the last time, then."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I am agreeable; but it will rest with you."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles drew away into the shadows. He waited, and +presently he heard a faint, hollow, passionate voice +calling his name:</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 151]</span> +"Ned Ryan! I will come back, Ned Ryan! Come +back, never fear, and see you—see you alone! And +if you are as hard then—as hard and cruel—Heaven +help us both!—Heaven help us both!"</p> + +<p class="indent">When Ned Ryan, alias Sundown, alias Miles, heard +the footsteps fail in the distance and die on the still +night air, a rapid change came over his face and bearing. +Throughout the night he had lost his self-command +seldom; his nerve never. But now the pallor +of a corpse made his features ghastly, and a cold sweat +burst forth in great beads upon his forehead. His +limbs trembled, and he staggered.</p> + +<p class="indent">By a violent effort he steadied his brain and straightened +his body. In a few minutes he had well-nigh regained +his normal calm. Then gradually his chest +expanded, and his air became that of one who has +climbed through desperate peril to the lofty heights +and sweet breath of freedom. Nay, as he stood there, +gazing hopefully skyward, with the dim light upon +his strong handsome face, he might very well have +been mistaken for a good man filled with dauntless +ambition, borne aloft on the wings of noble yearning.</p> + +<p class="indent">"After all, I am not lost!" The thoughts escaped +in words from the fulness of his soul. "No, I am safe; +he dares not betray me; she will not—because she +loves me. Not another soul need ever know."</p> + +<p class="indent">A new voice broke upon his ear:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are wrong; I know!"</p> + +<p class="indent">His lowered gaze fell upon the motionless figure of +Dick Edmonstone, who was standing quietly in front +of him.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 152]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + +<p class="h2a">QUITS</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">For</span> the second time that night Miles felt instinctively +for his revolver, and for the second time in vain.</p> + +<p class="indent">The younger man understood the movement.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A shot would be heard in the road and at the +lodge," said he quietly. "You'll only hasten matters +by shooting me."</p> + +<p class="indent">At once Miles perceived his advantage; his adversary +believed him to be armed. Withdrawing his hand from +the breast of his overcoat slowly, as though relinquishing +a weapon in the act of drawing it, he answered:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I believe you are right. But you are a cool hand!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Perhaps."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have only seen one other as cool—under fire."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Indeed?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"A fact. But I'll tell you where you come out even +stronger."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do."</p> + +<p class="indent">"In playing the spy. There you shine!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Hardly," said Dick dryly, and this time he added +a word or two: "or I should have shown you up some +time since."</p> + +<p class="indent">The two men faced one another, fair and square, but +their attitudes were not aggressive. Miles leant back +against a tree with folded arms, and Dick stood with +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 153]</span> +feet planted firmly and hands in his pockets. A combat +of coolness was beginning. The combatants were +a man in whom this quality was innate, and one who +rose to it but rarely. In these circumstances it is +strange that the self-possession of Dick was real to the +core, whilst that of the imperturbable Miles was for +once affected and skin-deep.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Will you tell me," said Miles, "what you have +heard? You may very possibly have drawn wrong inferences."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I heard all," Dick answered.</p> + +<p class="indent">"All is vague; why not be specific?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I heard that—well, that that woman was your +wife."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles felt new hope within him. Suppose he had +heard no more than that! And he had not heard anything +more—the thing was self-evident—or he would +not have spoken first of this—this circumstance which +must be confessed "unpleasant," but should be explained +away in five minutes; this—what more natural?—this +consequence of an ancient peccadillo, this bagatelle +in comparison with what he might have learned.</p> + +<p class="indent">"My dear sir, it is nothing but an infernal lie!" he +cried with eager confidence; "she never was anything +of the kind. It is the old story: an anthill of boyish +folly, a mountain of blackguardly extortion. Can't +you see?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, I can't," said Dick stolidly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, my good fellow, they have come over on +purpose to bleed me—they said so. It's as plain as a +pikestaff."</p> + +<p class="indent">"That may be true, so far as the man is concerned."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 154]</span> +"Don't you see that the woman is his accomplice? +But now a word with you, my friend. These are my +private affairs that you have had the impudence——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"That was not all I heard," said Dick coldly.</p> + +<p class="indent">Danger again—in the moment of apparent security.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What else did you hear, then?" asked Miles, in a +voice that was deep and faint at the same time.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Who you are," replied Dick shortly. "Sundown +the bushranger."</p> + +<p class="indent">The words were pronounced with no particular emphasis; +in fact, very much as though both sobriquet +and calling were household words, and sufficiently +familiar in all men's mouths. The bushranger heard +them without sign or sound. Dick waited patiently +for him to speak; but he waited long.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was a strange interview between these two men, +in the dead of this summer's night, in the heart of this +public park. They were rivals in love; one had discovered +the other to be not only an impostor, but a +notorious felon; and they had met before under circumstances +the most peculiar—a fact, however, of +which only one of them was now aware. The night +was at the zenith of its soft and delicate sweetness. +A gentle breeze had arisen, and the tops of the slender +firs were making circles against the sky, like the mastheads +of a ship becalmed; and the stars were shining +like a million pin-pricks in the purple cloak of light. +At last Miles spoke, asking with assumed indifference +what Dick intended to do.</p> + +<p class="indent">"But let it pass; of course you will inform at once!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What else can I do?" demanded Dick, sternly.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles scrutinised his adversary attentively and speculated +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 155]</span> +whether there was the least chance of frightening +such a man. Then he again thrust his hand +into the breast of his overcoat, and answered reflectively:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You can die—this minute—if I choose."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick stood his ground without moving a muscle.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nonsense!" he said scornfully. "I have shown +you that you can gain nothing by that."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles muttered a curse, and scowled at the ground, +without, however, withdrawing his hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"The case stands thus," said Dick: "you have imposed +on friends of mine, and I have found you—not a +common humbug, as I thought all along—but quite a +famous villain. Plainly speaking, a price is on your +head."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles did not speak.</p> + +<p class="indent">"And your life is in my hands."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles made no reply.</p> + +<p class="indent">"The natural thing," Dick continued, "would have +been to crawl away, when I heard who you were, and +call the police. You see I have not done that."</p> + +<p class="indent">Still not a word.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Another, and perhaps fairer, way would be to give +you a fair start from this spot and this minute, and +not say a word for an hour or two, until people are +about; the hare-and-hounds principle, in fact. But +I don't mean to do that either."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles raised his eyes, and at last broke his silence.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are arbitrary," he sneered. "May I ask what +is the special quality of torture you have reserved for +me? I am interested to know."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I shall name a condition," replied Dick firmly—"a +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 156]</span> +single condition—on which, so far as I am concerned, +you may impose on the public until some one else +unmasks you."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I don't believe you!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You have not heard my condition. I am in +earnest."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I wouldn't believe you on oath!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"And why?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Because you owe me a grudge," said Miles, speaking +rapidly—"because it is in your interest to see me +go under."</p> + +<p class="indent">"My condition provides for all that."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Let me hear it, then."</p> + +<p class="indent">"First tell me how you came to know the Bristos."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles gave Dick substantially the same story that +he had already learned from Alice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Now listen to me," said Dick. "Instead of +squatter you were bushranger. You had been in +England a day or two instead of a month or two, and +you had set foot in Sussex only; instead of masquerading +as a fisherman you wore your own sailor's clothes, +in which you swam ashore from your ship."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well guessed!" said Miles ironically.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A cleverer thing was never done," Dick went on, +his tone, for the moment, not wholly free from a trace +of admiration. "Well, apart from that first set of lies, +your first action in England was a good one. That is +one claim on leniency. The account you have given +me of it is quite true, for I heard the same thing from +one whose lips, at least, are true!"</p> + +<p class="indent">These last words forced their +way out without his +knowledge until he heard them.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 157]</span> +"Ah!" said Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">An involuntary subdual of both voices might have +been noticed here; it was but momentary, and it did +not recur.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick Edmonstone took his hands from his pockets, +drew nearer to Miles, slowly beat his left palm with +his right fist, and said:</p> + +<p class="indent">"My condition is simply this: you are to go near the +Bristos no more."</p> + +<p class="indent">If this touched any delicate springs in the heart of +Miles, their workings did not appear in his face. He +made no immediate reply; when it came, there was a +half-amused ring in his speech:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You mean to drive a hard bargain."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I don't call it hard."</p> + +<p class="indent">"All I possess is in that house. I cannot go far, +as I stand; you might as well give me up at once."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I see," said Dick musingly. "No; you are to have +an excellent chance. I have no watch on me: have +you? No? Well, it can't be more than one now, or +two at the latest, and they keep up these dances till +dawn—or they used to. Then perhaps you had better +go back to the house now. Button-hole the Colonel; +tell him you have had a messenger down from town—from +your agent. You can surely add a London agent +to your Queensland station and your house in Sydney! +Well, affairs have gone wrong on this station of yours—drought, +floods—anything you like; you have received +an important wire; you are advised, in fact, to +start back to Queensland at once. At any rate, you +must pack up your traps and leave Graysbrooke first +thing in the morning. You are very sorry to be called +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 158]</span> +back so suddenly—they are sorrier still to lose you; +but Australia and England are so close now, you are +sure to be over again some day—and all the rest of it; +but you are never to go near them again. Do you +agree?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What is the alternative?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Escape from here dressed like that if you can! +You will breakfast in gaol. At best you will be hunted +for a week or two, and then taken miserably—there +is no bush in England; whereas I offer you freedom +with one restriction."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I agree," said Miles, hoarsely.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Very good. If you keep your word, Sundown the +bushranger is at the bottom of the sea, for all I know; +if you break it, Sundown the bushranger is a lost man. +Now let us leave this place."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick led the way from the plantation, with his hands +again deep in his pockets.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles followed, marvelling. Marvelling that he, who +had terrorised half Australia, should be dictated to by +this English whelp, and bear it meekly; wondering +what it all meant. What, to begin with, was the meaning +of this masterly plan for an honourable exit? which +was, in fact, a continuation of his own falsehood. Why +had not this young fellow—who had every reason to +hate him, independently of to-night's discovery—quietly +brought the police and watched him taken in +cold blood? There would have been nothing underhand +in that; it was, in fact, the only treatment that +any criminal at large would expect at the hands of the +average member of society—if he fell into those hands. +Then why had not this been done? What tie or obligation +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 159]</span> +could possibly exist between this young Edmonstone +and Sundown the Australian bushranger?</p> + +<p class="indent">The night was at its darkest when they reached the +avenue; so dark that they crossed into the middle of +the broad straight road, where the way was clearest. +Straight in front of them burned the lamps of the gateway, +like two yellow eyes staring through a monstrous +crape mask. They seemed to be walking in a valley +between two long, regular ranges of black mountains +with curved and undulating tops—only that the mountains +wavered in outline, and murmured from their +midst under the light touch of the sweet mild breeze.</p> + +<p class="indent">They walked on in silence, and watched the deep +purple fading slowly but surely before their eyes, and +the lights ahead growing pale and sickly.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles gave expression to the thought that puzzled +him most:</p> + +<p class="indent">"For the life of me, I can't make out why you are +doing this" (he resented the bare notion of mercy, and +showed it in his tone). "With you in my place and +I in yours——"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick stopped in his walk, and stopped Miles also.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Is it possible you do not know me?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have known you nearly a month," Miles answered.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you mean to say you don't remember seeing +me before—before this last month?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Certainly, when first I met you, I seemed to remember +your voice; but from what I was told about +you I made sure I was mistaken."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Didn't they tell you that at one time, out there +I was hawking?"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 160]</span> +"No. Why, now—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Stop a bit," said Dick, raising his hand. "Forget +that you are here; forget you are in England. Instead +of these chestnuts, you're in the mallee scrub. The +night is far darker than this night has ever been: the +place is a wilderness. You are lying in wait for a +hawker's wagon. The hawkers drive up; you take +them by surprise, and you're three to two. They are +at your mercy. The younger one is a new chum from +England—a mere boy. He has all the money of the +concern in his pocket, and nothing to defend it with. +He flings himself unarmed upon one of your gang, +and, but for you, would be knifed for his pains. You +save him by an inch; but you see what maddens him—you +see he has the money. You take it from him. +The money is all the world to him: he is mad: he +wants to be killed outright. You only bind him to +the wheel, taking from him all he has. So he thinks, +and death is at his heart. But he finds that, instead +of taking it all, you have left it all; you have been +moved by compassion for the poor devil of a new +chum! Well, first he cannot believe his eyes; then +he is grateful; then senseless."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles scanned the young man's face in the breaking +light. Yes, he remembered it now; it had worn +this same passionate expression then. His own face +reflected the aspect of the eastern sky; a ray was +breaking in upon him, and shedding a new light on +an old action, hidden away in a dark corner of his +mind. A thing that had been a little thing until now +seemed to expand in the sudden warmth of this new +light. Miles felt an odd, unaccountable sensation, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 161]</span> +which, however, was not altogether outside his experience: +he had felt it when he pulled Colonel Bristo +from the sea, and in the moment of parting with his +coat to a half-perishing tramp.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick continued:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Stop a minute—hear the end. This new chum, +fresh from 'home,' was successful. He made a fortune—of +a sort. It might have been double what it +is had he been in less of a hurry to get back to England." +Dick sighed. "Whatever it is, it was built +on that hundred which you took and restored: that +was its nucleus. And therefore—as well as because +you saved his life—this new chum, when no longer +one, never forgot Sundown the bushranger; he nursed +a feeling of gratitude towards him which was profound +if, as he had been assured, illogical. Only a few hours +ago he said, 'If he came within my power I should +be inclined to give him a chance,' or something like +that." Dick paused; then he added: "Now you know +why you go free this morning."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles made no immediate remark. Bitter disappointment +and hungry yearning were for the moment +written clearly on his handsome, reckless face. At +last he said:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You may not believe me, but when you came to +me—down there on the lawn—that's what I was +swearing to myself; to begin afresh. And see what has +come to me since then!" he added, with a harsh laugh.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Just then," returned Dick, frankly, "I should +have liked nothing better than to have seen you run +in. I followed you out with as good a hate as one +man can feel towards another. You never thought +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 162]</span> +of my following you out here? Nor did I think of +coming so far; by the bye, the—your wife made it +difficult for me; she was following too. Yes, I hated +you sufficiently; and I had suspected you from the +first—but not for what you are; when I heard Jem +Pound say your name I was staggered, my brain went +reeling, I could scarcely keep from crying out."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Did you recognise him?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Pound? No: I thought him a detective. He is +a clever fellow."</p> + +<p class="indent">"He is the devil incarnate!"</p> + +<p class="indent">They had passed through the gates into the road.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Here we separate," said Dick. "Go back to +Graysbrooke the way you came, and pack your +things. Is there any need to repeat—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"None."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You understand that if you break it, all's up with +you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have accepted that."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then we are quits!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I like your pluck—I liked it long ago," said Miles, +speaking suddenly, after staring at Dick for more +than a minute in silence. "I was thinking of that +new chum hawker awhile ago, before I knew you were +he. You reminded me of him. And I ought to have +known then; for I was never spoken to the same, before +or since, except then and now. No one else ever +bargained with Sundown! Well, a bargain it is. +Here's my hand on it."</p> + +<p class="indent">As he spoke, he shook Edmonstone by the hand +with an air of good faith. Next moment, the two men +were walking in opposite directions.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 163]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + +<p class="h2a">THE MORNING AFTER</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick reached Iris Lodge before the other two +whom he had left at the ball. This was fortunate, not +only because he had the latchkey in his pocket, but +since it obviated crooked answers to awkward questions: +they would, of course, suppose that he had +gone straight home from the Bristos'.</p> + +<p class="indent">He went quietly up to his room, changed his coat, +and filled his pipe. In searching for matches on the +dressing-table, however, he came across something +which caused him to forget his pipe for the moment; +a packet of letters in an elastic band, displaying immediately +below the band a thin, folded collection of +newspaper cuttings. They were the extracts Flint +had given him, referring to the capture and subsequent +escape of Sundown the bushranger. He had +found no time to read them before going out, and +now—well, now he would read them with added interest, +that was all.</p> + +<p class="indent">Yet he stood still with the papers in his hand, trying +to realise all that he had seen, and heard, and said +since midnight; trying not to separate in his mind the +vaguely suspected rogue of yesterday and the notorious +villain unmasked this morning; trying, on the +other hand, to reconcile the Sundown of his remembrance—still +more of his imagination—with the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 164]</span> +Miles of his acquaintance, to fuse two inconsistent +ideas, to weld unsympathetic metals.</p> + +<p class="indent">Standing thus, with all other sensations yielding to +bewilderment, Dick was recalled to himself by hearing +voices and footsteps below his window. Fanny +and Maurice had returned; he must go down and let +them in, and then—the cuttings!</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, how long have you been in?" was Fanny's +first question; she had too much tact to ask him why +he had left.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, a long time," Dick replied. "I didn't feel +quite all right," he added, a shade nearer the truth; +"but—but I thought it would only bother you."</p> + +<p class="indent">"How could you think that? If you had only told +me," said Fanny, with honest trouble in her voice, +"you shouldn't have come alone."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then I'm glad I gave you the slip." Dick manufactured +a laugh. "But, indeed, I'm all right now—right +as the mail, honour bright!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"But why didn't you go to bed when you got +home?" his sister pursued.</p> + +<p class="indent">"The key!" explained Maurice laconically, turning +out the hall gas as he spoke.</p> + +<p class="indent">They stole up-stairs in the pale chill light that fell +in bars through the blind of the landing window.</p> + +<p class="indent">Fanny laid her hand softly on Dick's shoulder.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was wretched after you went," she whispered +sympathetically. "Do you know that—that—" +timorously—"Alice went up-stairs and never came +down again?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Did no one else disappear?" asked Dick, bending +his head to read his sister's eyes.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 165]</span> +Fanny hung her head. Mr. Miles had been missed +by all; but no one—except the Colonel—had remarked +Dick's absence in her hearing. When she +had found Alice nearly fainting, and taken her to her +maid, she had seen, indeed, that her friend was sorely +distressed about something; but the friendship between +them was not close enough for the seeking of +confidences on either side; and, as the cause of so +many sighs and tears, she had thought naturally, +because she wished so to think, of her own brother. +Now it seemed that perhaps, after all, Mr. Miles—whom +she detested—had been the object of compassion. +And Fanny had nothing to say.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Good night," said Dick, quietly kissing her.</p> + +<p class="indent">The next moment she heard the key turn in his +door.</p> + +<p class="indent">He sat down on the edge of the bed, lit his pipe, +and withdrew the cuttings from the indiarubber band. +There was not much to read, after all; only three +paragraphs, of which two were telegraphic, and consequently +brief. In no case was either name or date +of the newspaper attached; but in the short paragraphs +Dick seemed to recognise the type of the +"Australasian," while there was internal evidence that +the longer one emanated from a Queensland organ. +After glancing rapidly at all three, he arranged them +in an order that proved to be chronologically correct.</p> + +<p class="indent">The first paragraph (telegraphic: headed "Brisbane, +Friday,") stated that, on the afternoon of the +day before, the branch of the Australian Joint-Stock +Bank at Mount Clarence had been entered by two +bushrangers, one of whom declared that he was Sundown, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 166]</span> +the New South Wales outlaw. That after +"bailing up" everybody in the establishment, and +shutting up the bank—which, as it was then closing-time, +was effected without raising the suspicions of +the township—the bushrangers had ridden away, +taking with them about five hundred ounces of gold +and a considerable sum in cheques and notes. That, +at two o'clock the following morning, the bushrangers +had been captured asleep under a gunyah, +twelve miles from Mount Clarence, "through the rare +sagacity of Sergeant Dogherty," and that Sundown's +mate, a man named Benjamin Hickey, had been subsequently +shot dead by the police on attempting to +escape. "The redoubtable Ned Ryan, alias Sundown," +the paragraph concluded, "gave no trouble +on the way to Mount Clarence, whence he will be forwarded +to Rockhampton without delay; but the gold +has not yet been recovered, having evidently been +'planted' by the outlaws before camping for the +night."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick believed that he had seen this identical paragraph +in the "Argus" of February 13th, the day on +which the Hesper sailed from Hobson's Bay.</p> + +<p class="indent">The second cutting seemed to be part—perhaps the +greater part—of an article from a Queensland pen, +written in the first blush of triumph following the announcement +of Sundown's capture. From it Dick +learned so much concerning Ned Ryan that had never +before come to his knowledge, that it is here reproduced +word for word:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Edward Ryan, or 'Sundown,' is declared by our +informant to be a man of pleasing countenance, about +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 167]</span> +six feet three inches high and thirty-seven years of +age. He is a native of Victoria, where his parents +resided for many years. Some six years ago—being +then a horse-dealer of questionable repute—he married +the daughter of a well-to-do farmer in the Ovens +district (Vic.). But for some time past—since, indeed, +a short time after his outlawry—he is said to have +ceased all communication with his wife. About four +years and a half ago, a warrant was taken out against +Edward Ryan for some roguery connected with a +horse. He, however, managed to escape across the +Murray into New South Wales. A few weeks later +his career of desperate crime—which has now happily +ended as above detailed—was commenced in the partnership +of two kindred spirits. One of these, Benjamin +Hickey, has met with a summary fate, but one +strictly in accordance with his deserts, as already described. +The third of the band, however, who is believed +by the police to be a Tasmanian 'old hand,' +lost sight of for many years, was turned adrift some +time ago by Sundown, on account, it is said, of his +extreme bloodthirstiness. This statement receives +colour from the fact that Sundown, since his capture, +has declared that neither he nor Hickey ever spilt +blood with their own hands; so that if this is true, +not only the murder of Youl, the storekeeper near +Menindie, on the Darling—which crime rendered the +name of Sundown infamous at the commencement—but +the grievous wounding of Constable O'Flynn, +two years later, may be freely ascribed to the murderous +hand of the miscreant that is still at large. +However this may be, we have, in Sundown, succeeded +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 168]</span> +in running to earth a freebooter equal in daring, +impudence, and cunning generalship to the most +formidable of the highwaymen who were the terror +of the sister colonies in the early days. The credit of +this brilliant capture, however, rests entirely with this +colony. Indeed, it is to be hoped that we shall hereafter +be able to boast that it was reserved to the +youngest colony to add the finishing touch to the +extermination of the Australian bandit. And as the +bushrangers had been but a few months in Queensland, +whereas their depredations in the neighbouring +colony extended over as many years, it will be seen +that on the whole the exploit of our police compares +not unfavourably with the New South Wales method +of doing business."</p> + +<p class="indent">After this, the effect of the last extract was at least +startling. The words in this case were few, and +cruelly to the point. They simply told of the escape +of the prisoner Ryan during a violent dust-storm that +enveloped the township of Mount Clarence, and afterwards +rendered tracking (when the bird was discovered +to have flown) most difficult. No details of +the escape were given, but the message ended with +the confident assurance (which read humourously +now) that the re-capture of Sundown, alive or dead, +could be but a matter of hours.</p> + +<p class="indent">There was a curious smile upon Dick's face as he +folded up the cuttings. "I wonder how on earth he +did it?" he asked himself as he slowly knocked the +ashes from his pipe.</p> + +<p class="indent">The sunlight was peeping in where it could +through blind and curtains. Dick raised the first, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 169]</span> +drew back the second, and stood in the broad light of +day. Then, throwing up the sash, he plunged head +and shoulders into the fresh, fragrant morning air. +The effect upon him was magical. His forehead +seemed pressed by a cool, soothing hand; his throat +drank down a deep draught of wizard's wine; he +caught at his breath, as though actually splashing +in the dewy air, and yet in a very little while the man's +baser nature asserted itself. Dick yawned, not once +or twice, but repeatedly; then he shivered and shut +the window. Five minutes later the lively sparrows—if +they took more than a passing interest in their +early guest, as they should, since such very early +guests were rare among them—the sprightly sparrows +that visited the window-ledge might have seen for +themselves that he was sound, sound asleep.</p> + +<p class="indent">For some hours this sleep was profound, until, in +fact, Dick began to dream. Then, indeed, he was +soon awake, but not before his soul had been poisoned +by a very vivid and full vision. This dream was not +strange under the circumstances, but it was plausible, +disturbing, and less bizarre than most—in fact, terribly +realistic. He had gone to Graysbrooke and +found Miles—Sundown the bushranger—still there. +At once and openly he had denounced the villain, +shown him in his true colours, and at once he had been +disbelieved—laughed at by the enemy, pitied by his +friends, treated as the victim of a delusion. With +Miles's mocking defiant laugh in his ears, Dick +awoke.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was the dread, the chance of something like this +actually happening, that hurried him to Graysbrooke +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 170]</span> +with unbroken fast. He found Colonel Bristo plainly +worried, yet glad to see him, eager to tell him what +was the matter.</p> + +<p class="indent">"We have lost our guest."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick felt the blood rushing back to his face at the +words.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Miles has gone," the Colonel pursued in a tone +of annoyance; "gone this morning—a summons to +Australia, he fears—a thing he had never dreamt of +until last night."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dear me!" said Dick, with surprise that was +partly genuine. For his plan had worked out better—he +had been followed more strictly to the letter +than he could have dared to hope; the misgivings of +the last hour were turned to supreme satisfaction.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," sighed the soldier, "it was most unexpected. +And I need not tell you how disappointed we +all are."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick murmured that he was sure of it, with all the +awkwardness of an honest tongue driven into hypocrisy.</p> + +<p class="indent">"For my own part, I feel confoundedly put out +about it. I shall be as dull as ditch-water for days. +As for the ladies, they'll miss him horribly."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick's reply was monosyllabic, and its tone fell distinctly +short of sympathy.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He was such a good fellow!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The Colonel said this regretfully, and waited for +some echo. But Dick could have said nothing +without the whole truth bursting out, so he merely +asked:</p> + +<p class="indent">"When did he go?"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 171]</span> +"About nine—as soon as he could pack up his +things, in fact. Alice was not down to say good-bye +to him."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick's eyes glittered.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He will be back to say it, though?" he asked +suspiciously.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, I fear not; he will probably have to start at +once; at least, so his agent told him—the fellow who +came down last night, and robbed us of him for half +the evening. By-the-bye, we missed you too; did +you go home?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes." Dick faltered a little.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Have you and Alice been quarrelling?" asked +Alice's father abruptly.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick answered simply that they had. Colonel +Bristo silently paced the carpet. When he spoke +again it was to revert to the subject of Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, I am sorry enough to lose him; for we had +become great friends, intimate friends, and we understood +one another thoroughly, he and I. But the +worst of it is, we shan't have him with us in Yorkshire. +What a man for the moors! And how he +would have enjoyed it! But there; it's no use talking; +we're all disappointed, and there's an end of it."</p> + +<p class="indent">The Colonel laid his hand on Dick's shoulder, and +added:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You won't disappoint us, my boy?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"For the moors, sir?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, of course."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I cannot go—I am very sorry"—hastily—"but——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nonsense, Dick!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 172]</span> +"I really cannot—I cannot, indeed," with lame +repetition.</p> + +<p class="indent">"And why?" asked Colonel Bristo, mildly. "Why—when +you promised us weeks ago?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick raised his eyes from the ground, and the answer +was given and understood without words; yet +he felt impelled to speak. He began in a low voice, +nervously:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Without disrespect, sir, I think I may beg of you +not to insist on an explanation—either from me, or +from—anyone else. It could do no good. It might +do—I mean it might cause—additional pain. You +have guessed the reason? Yes, you see it clearly—you +understand. And—and you seem sorry. Don't +let it trouble you, sir. There are lots better than I." +He paused, then added uncertainly: "Colonel Bristo, +you have been more, far more, than kind and good to +me. If you treated me like a son before it was +time—well—well, it will all be a pleasant memory to—to +take away with me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Away?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, away; back to Australia," said Dick, expressing +his newest thought as though it were his +oldest. "Before you get back from the north, I shall +probably be on my way."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Don't do that, Dick—don't do that," said Colonel +Bristo, with some feeling.</p> + +<p class="indent">Personal liking for Dick apart, it was not a pleasant +reflection that his daughter had jilted the man who +had come from Australia to marry her, and was sending +him back there.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick answered him sadly.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 173]</span> +"It can't be helped, sir. It is all over. It is decent +that I should go."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I don't understand 'em—never understood 'em," +muttered the old man vaguely, and half to himself. +"Still, there is no one but Dick, I dare swear; who +should there be but Dick?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick stepped forward, as though to push the scales +from the eyes of this unseeing man; but he checked +his impulse, and cried huskily, holding the thin hand +in his own great strong one:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Good-bye, Colonel Bristo. God bless you, sir! +Good-bye!"</p> + +<p class="indent">And the young man was gone.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 174]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + +<p class="h2a">MILITARY MANŒUVRES</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well!" exclaimed Colonel Bristo, after some +minutes. He leant back in his chair and stared sternly +at his book-shelves. "It's a nice look-out for the +moors; that's all."</p> + +<p class="indent">His reflections were dispiriting. He was thinking +that the only two men whom he had really wanted +down in Yorkshire had this morning, almost in the +same breath, declared that they could not go. They +were, in fact, both going back to Australia—independently, +from widely different reasons. With Miles the +necessity was pressing enough, no doubt; and then he +had only been visiting England, and never contemplated +a long stay. But Dick's case was very different. +He had come home for good, with his "pile" +and his prospects. Could he possibly have been made +so miserable during these few weeks that he would +be glad to bury himself again in the bush? Could his +case be really so hopeless as he himself believed it?</p> + +<p class="indent">"If so," said Colonel Bristo with irritation, "then +Alice has played the deuce with the best young fellow +in England!"</p> + +<p class="indent">But how could he tell? How was he, the father, +to get at the facts of the case? Alice was all the +world to him: but for all the world he would not have +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 175]</span> +sought her confidence in such a matter. Then what +was he to do?</p> + +<p class="indent">He got up from his chair, and paced the floor with +the stride of a skipper on his poop. He had liked +young Edmonstone always—respected him as a mere +stripling. Love-sick boys were, as a rule, selfish, if +not sly, young fools—that was his experience; but +this one had shown himself upright and fearless—had, +in fact, behaved uncommonly well, once the mischief +was done. But that liking had developed into affection +since the night of Dick's arrival. Poor fellow! +how grateful he had been! how hopeful! Who could +have discouraged him? The Colonel, for his part, +had no reason to do so now. What was there against +him? what against "it"? In a word, he had soon—as +he saw more of him—set his heart upon Dick for +his son. Secretly, he had already formed certain projects +of parental ingenuity. He had already, in his +walks, held stealthy intercourse with house and estate +agents, and otherwise dipped into the future of other +people, further than he had any business. And here +was the death-blow to it all! The pair had quarrelled +so violently that the prospective son-in-law was on +the point of taking himself back to Australia! One +thing was certain: it could be no ordinary disagreement—she +must have jilted him. But if so, for +whom? She had seen nobody for months—nobody +but Miles! And Miles—the Colonel smiled indulgently—with +all his good points, with all his fine +qualities, Miles was no marrying man. Then who +could it be? Once more he, her father, was unable +to tell, for the life of him.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 176]</span> +He sat down, rose again in a moment, and rang the +bell. Then he sent a polite message to Mrs. Parish, +requesting her kind attendance, if not in any way inconvenient.</p> + +<p class="indent">"She can at least put me right on one or two points. +That is, if she doesn't go off at a tangent, down some +blind-alley of a side issue!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The lady appeared after the regulation delay, by +which she was in the habit of italicising the dignity of +her office.</p> + +<p class="indent">By her greeting, one would have thought the appointment +was of her making. She observed that she +would have come before to inquire how the Colonel +felt after it all, but understood that he was engaged.</p> + +<p class="indent">The Colonel explained with a sigh.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He is gone."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah!" There was unprecedented sympathy in the +lady's look and tone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You saw him go?" asked the Colonel, looking +up in surprise.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I did," sadly; "I did."</p> + +<p class="indent">"He said good-bye to you, perhaps?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"To be sure he did! He was hardly likely to—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"He didn't ask to see Alice, I suppose?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, yes, he did."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dear me!" said the Colonel to himself.</p> + +<p class="indent">"But she could not see him, I grieve to say; it was +a thousand pities, seeing that he's going straight back +to Australia."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, he told you that too, did he?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Of course, Colonel Bristo, when he said good-bye."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 177]</span>"Dear me! But why wouldn't Alice see him?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was too early."</p> + +<p class="indent">"A mere excuse," exclaimed the Colonel angrily, +looking at his watch. "Too early! It is plain that +she has thrown him over. If so, then the best young +fellow in England has been——But perhaps you +can tell me whether it really is so?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Parish began to feel mystified.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A young fellow?" she began doubtfully.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, young in years; older than his age, I know. +But that's not my point."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then I really don't know, Colonel Bristo. Alice +seldom honors me with her confidence nowadays. +Indeed, for the last year—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"The point—my dear madam; the point!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, then," snapped Mrs. Parish, "to judge by +their dances together, last night, I should say you are +certainly wrong!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah, you thought that at the time, I know. Do +you remember my disagreeing with you when you +declared Alice had never been more brilliant, and so +on? Why she only danced with the lad once!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Only once! "The lad!" Colonel Bristo must certainly +be joking; and jokes at the expense of the lady +who had controlled his household for twenty years +were not to be tolerated.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Colonel Bristo, I fail to understand you. If it +were not preposterous, I should imagine you had +stooped to ridicule. Allow me, please, to state that +your daughter danced three times, if not four, with +Mr. Miles—I see nothing to smile at, Colonel +Bristo!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 178]</span> +"My good—my dear Mrs. Parish," said he, correcting +himself hastily, and rising urbanely from his +chair, "we are at cross purposes. I mean young +Edmonstone; you mean, I suppose, Mr. Miles. A +thousand apologies."</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Parish was only partially appeased.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, if you mean that young gentleman, I can +assure you he has absolutely no chance. Has he said +good-bye, too, then?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes. He says he is going back to Australia."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I said he would!" exclaimed Mrs. Parish with +gusto.</p> + +<p class="indent">"But—I say! You surely don't mean that it is +Mr. Miles Alice cares for?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Parish smiled superior.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Has it not been patent?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not to me, madam!" said Colonel Bristo warmly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Love on both sides; I might say at first sight. +I watched it dawn, and last night I thought it had +reached high noon," the old lady declared with +emotion. "But this unfortunate summons! Still, +I think we shall see him again before he sails, and I +think he will come back to England for good before +long."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You mean you hope so, Mrs. Parish," said the +Colonel dryly. He seated himself at his desk with +unmistakable meaning. "Confound her!" he muttered +when the door closed; "the thing is plausible +enough. Yet I don't believe it. What's more, much +as I like Miles, I don't wish it! No. Now what am +I to do about Dick?"</p> + +<p class="indent">This question occupied his thoughts for the rest of +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 179]</span> +the morning. He could not answer it to his satisfaction. +In the afternoon he sent word to Iris Lodge, +begging Dick to come over in the evening for an +hour. The messenger brought back the news that +Mr. Edmonstone was from home—had, in fact, left +for abroad that afternoon.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Abroad!" thought Colonel Bristo. "He has lost +no time! But 'abroad' only means the Continent—it +is 'out' when you go farther. And yet that is one +way out—the quickest! Is he capable of such madness +at a moment's notice? Never; impossible. But +I had better look into the matter myself."</p> + +<p class="indent">And this the Colonel did in the course of a few +days, by himself calling at Iris Lodge. There was a +little coldness, or it may have been merely self-consciousness, +in his reception. But when, after a few +preliminaries, the visitor began to speak of Dick, this +soon wore off; for his regard was too warmly expressed, +and his praise too obviously genuine, not to +win and melt hearts half as loving as those of Mrs. +Edmonstone and her daughter. The Colonel, for his +part, was sufficiently rewarded when he learnt that +Dick had merely joined an old Australian friend in +Italy, and would be back at the beginning of August.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I was half afraid," he observed tentatively, "that +he was tired of England already, and was on his way +out again."</p> + +<p class="indent">The horror with which this notion was instantly +demolished caused the old gentleman to smile with +unconcealed satisfaction; for it assured him that +Dick's intention (if it was an intention, and not merely +the wild idea of a heated moment) had at least not +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 180]</span> +yet been breathed to his family. He took up his hat +and cane with a light heart. And he stopped to add +a rider to his gracious adieu:</p> + +<p class="indent">"We shall be tramping the moors when your son +returns, Mrs. Edmonstone, so I beg you will forward +him on to us. And pray, Miss Fanny, use your influence +as well, for we have lost our other Australian, +and I don't see how we can get on without Dick."</p> + +<p class="indent">He went out in good spirits.</p> + +<p class="indent">Thereafter, as far as the Colonel was concerned, +young Edmonstone might bake himself to his heart's +content—until the Twelfth—abroad. As it happened, +Colonel Bristo found a far more immediate cause +for anxiety at home. This was the appearance of +Alice.</p> + +<p class="indent">As July drew near its latter days, the change in her +looks passed the perceptible stage to the noticeable. +Her colouring had been called her best point by some, +her only good one by others (possibly according to +the sex of the critic); yet now her face was wholly void +of colour. The flower-like complexion was, if possible, +more delicate than before, but now it resembled +the waxen lily instead of the glowing wild rose. Even +the full, firm lips were pale and pinched. Her eyes +were either dull or restless, and their dark setting +seemed more prominent: shadows lay below them +where no shadows should have been. For the rest, +any real activity of mind or body seemed as impossible +to her as any real repose; she appeared to have gained +only in thoughtfulness—as indicated by silence. On +fine days, though the river could not charm her, she +would dress for walking, and come back tired out in +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 181]</span> +twenty minutes. On wet ones she divided her time +between the first few pages of a book, and the first few +bars of a waltz; between the two she never got any +farther in either. Perhaps experience had taught her +that all the tune of a waltz is at the beginning; and I +suppose she failed to "get into" her novels. Her ear +was sensitive, attuned to her temper; common sounds +startled her painfully; the unexpected opening or shutting +of a door went far to unhinge both nerves and +temper. The latter, indeed, was less sweet at this +period than ever in her life before, and none knew it +so well as she herself, who bore the brunt of it in her +own heart.</p> + +<p class="indent">None of these signs escaped the watchful eyes about +her. But while, on the one hand, Mrs. Parish noted +them with incomplete sympathy and impartial confidence +in the justice of consequences (believing that +Alice's indecision had brought this on her own head, +and that a little uncertainty would do her no harm), +the father's heart became more and more distressed +as each new symptom was made plain to him. He +was both worried and perplexed. He called in a local +doctor. That move made her ill-health no better, and +her ill-temper worse. What, then, could the father do? +Always loving and indulgent—never intimate—with +his child, it had been his practice, when serious matters +arose, to employ the ambassador always at hand; +thus there had never, during all the years, been a word +of contention between father and daughter; and to +this practice the father resorted now.</p> + +<p class="indent">Late one afternoon they were all three sitting in the +garden, when Alice rose, without breaking her long +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 182]</span> +silence, and slowly walked towards the house. The +Colonel followed her with his eyes; he held a glowing +cigarette between his fingers; the distance was short +enough, but before Alice reached the house the +cigarette was out.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Look at her now! Is that the step of a healthy +girl? See her climb those six steps—they might be +the top flight of St. Paul's! Mrs. Parish"—with sudden +decision—"Mrs. Parish, you must see to the root +of this matter before it gets any worse. I must know +exactly what is at the bottom of it. I desire you to +speak to Alice, for I cannot. You understand me, I +think? Very well, then, pray watch your opportunity."</p> + +<p class="indent">The very next morning the housekeeper came to +the study. She had spoken to Alice. She did not +require much questioning.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, as to young Mr. Richard. I could elicit nothing—nothing +at all. He seemed quite outside her +thoughts."</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Parish made this statement with a smack of +satisfaction. Colonel Bristo, however, must have +given it a construction of his own, for he did not look +displeased. He simply said:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, she was almost as reticent about Mr. Miles; +though we know what that signifies!" (But here the +Colonel shook his head.) "What she did say, however, +is not worth repeating."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Still, I should like to hear it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It does not affect matters in the least."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Pray go on, Mrs. Parish."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 183]</span> +"Of course, if you insist, Colonel Bristo! Well, +then, Alice tells me that, two days after Mr. Miles +went, a shabby kind of woman had the impudence to +walk into the garden, accost her, and ask if Mr. Miles +(how she had got his name, one cannot tell) was still +here. Alice said 'No,' and was weak enough to give +her money, because she seemed wretched, she says, +and so got rid of her."</p> + +<p class="indent">"One of the beggars he helped," said the Colonel. +"He used to have long conversations with them, and +tell them to emigrate."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, to be sure!" cried Mrs. Parish, at once enlightened +and relieved. And now she was as eager +to tell the rest as before she had been slow to speak. +"The very next day after that, Alice saw a man watching +the house from the tow-path. He seemed to be +there all day; so at last she rowed across and asked +him if he wanted anyone. He said, 'Yes, the gentleman +who's been staying there; where is he?' She told +him he was on his way back to Australia. The man +did not seem to believe it. In the end she gave money +to him too, and soon she saw him go."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Another of his beggars!" laughed Colonel Bristo. +"Their name is legion, no doubt, and we shall see more +of them yet. For the credit of the Mother Country, +we can't shut the door in their faces after a Colonial +has given them a taste of real downright generosity. +Poor Miles!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, Alice, for her part, seems ready enough to +carry on his works of charity," said Mrs. Parish, +adroitly, with an emphasis ever so slight on the possessive +pronoun.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 184]</span> +The Colonel smiled. Then he thanked her graciously +for the service.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I am extremely obliged to you, Mrs. Parish, for +the hundredth time. You have saved me yet another +interview. That is, I should have made it awkward, +but you, with your usual tact, have got at precisely +what I wanted. I am perfectly satisfied."</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Parish bowed. She was not a little pleased +with the compliment to her tact, on which she plumed +herself above everything; but her pleasure was less +than her surprise—that the Colonel should be so easily +satisfied! She moved with dignity to the door. As +she was shutting it, the Colonel rubbed his hands and +exclaimed aloud:</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is Dick!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The door, which was at that moment swinging to, +stopped, trembled, then shut with a vicious little bang. +The Colonel could make a near enough guess at the +expression of the face on the other side of it. He +smiled benevolently.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Silly lady! She thinks I have turned against my +friend Miles—whom, by the way, she worships on her +own account. Far from it, I miss him abominably. +But when it comes to a choice between him and Dick—and +where my girl is concerned—why, then, I confess, +I'm all for the younger man and the older +suitor."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 185]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">"MILES'S BEGGARS"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Iris Lodge</span>, during the first half of August, became +for once gay, not to say festive—in a small way, as +befitted a first experiment. Maurice managed to wrest +his hard-earned annual holiday from the bank, and, on +the very first day of the fourteen allotted him, back +came Dick from abroad, bringing with him his friend +Flint. After a remarkable display of obstinacy on this +gentleman's part, Dick had at last prevailed upon him +to leave his tenants to their own devices for one more +week, and tarry by the Thames. But, though this was +brought about by dint of hard persuading, in the end +Mr. Flint somehow saw his way to doubling the week +which at first he had grudgingly promised.</p> + +<p class="indent">In his excuse it can only be urged that he enjoyed +himself beyond expectation. The weather was very +nearly faultless, the river at its best, formalities few, +and the ladies—charming. The lawn-tennis court—though +several inches short—was quite of the billiard-table +order. The music in the evenings, though it did +not run in a man's head, possessed a certain odd, +mysterious, soothing, saddening, pleasing quality, that +silenced one at the time, and left an impression that +Miss Edmonstone could make her piano speak, if she +tried. Perhaps it was classical music; very likely +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 186]</span> +Chopin. Lastly—and last thing—the spirituous nightcap, +though approached in a spirit of moderation, had +a way of imparting the proper Eucalyptian flavour to +all reminiscences of life among the gum-trees. Could +there be better conditions for a pleasant visit? Flint +asked himself. And if the house was the smallest he +had ever stayed in, would not Castle Flint seem cheerless, +vast, sepulchral, by comparison?</p> + +<p class="indent">But indeed they were wonderfully bright and happy +days: the ones on the river, when, in the bushmen's +phrase, they all "camped," and Flint made tea in true +bush fashion, and Dick a "damper" which no one but +bushmen could eat; the afternoons at tennis, spent in +wonderfully keen, if not deeply scientific, struggles; +the morning at Hampton Court, when Flint owned +himself completely "bushed" in the Maze, and when +they were all photographed on the Green, bringing +away with them the atrocious result in a gilt frame; +and the day when Dick hired the four-in-hand (it +created some sensation in the little road) and drove +them all through Chertsey and Ascot, to Windsor, and +back by Staines and Shepperton.</p> + +<p class="indent">Certainly any outsider must have voted them a +jovial, light-hearted party, without a serious care to +divide among them; and even Flint, who had some +power of observation, and also knew his friend thoroughly—even +Flint told himself that old Dick had got +back his good spirits, and was, in fact, "getting over it." +But Flint did not know. Ever since their hurried interview +on the 2nd of July, Dick had been as reticent as +he had then been communicative of all that lay nearest +his heart.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 187]</span> +Yet never for one moment did Dick forget. He had +no wish to forget. So long as he could keep his disappointment +to himself, deep down within him, he would +suffer and smile. For the sake of the others he could +not rise in his place at the feast and declare himself the +skeleton he felt. They must find it out sooner or later—then +let it be later. Here his thoughts were all of his +mother and Fanny; they would be heart-broken when +he told them of his determination to go back to Australia. +But a determination it was, growing more solid +day by day, though as yet told only to Colonel Bristo, +and that in the unguarded spontaneity of sudden emotion. +But as for his people, better tell them just before +he went—say the week before, or why not on the very +day of sailing? Why make them unhappy before their +time, when their happiness in having him back was still +boundless?</p> + +<p class="indent">After all, it would only be a temporary trouble; for +Dick had evolved a great scheme for the future, which +was this: He would go out and buy a small station in +a first-rate district—at arm's length, indeed, from towns +and railroads, but still just in touch with civilisation. +Then he would send home for them all. Yes, all. For +Maurice would make an ideal book-keeper. Fanny +would revel in the life, and Mrs. Edmonstone would +certainly prefer it to the small house at Teddington. +This plan was conceived, matured, calculated out, and +found feasible, during the many long summer nights +wherein Dick never closed his eyes, when perhaps it +was well that there was this object of focus for his +mind.</p> + +<p class="indent">As for his attitude towards Flint, Dick was well +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 188]</span> +aware that his access of reserve, after the way in which +he had unburdened his soul at their first meeting, must +appear strangely inconsistent. He had rushed to join +his friend on the Continent, travelled with him for +nearly a month, and not told him another word of his +affairs. It could not be helped; it would be impossible +to tell Flint anything of what had followed their first +talk at Teddington without making a clean breast +of his discovery that Miles the Australian was no other +than Sundown the bushranger, and this Dick would +not tell a soul unless Miles broke faith with him. Least +of all would he confide in Flint, for Flint would be the +very first to turn round and call him madman.</p> + +<p class="indent">Nevertheless the days seemed to chase each other +pleasantly enough for one and all, actually doing so +for all but one; and, as always happens in such cases, +the fortnight drew far too quickly to its close.</p> + +<p class="indent">"To-day is Thursday—the Twelfth, by-the-bye—and +here we are within sight of Sunbury Lock; and on +Monday, and ever afterwards, the bank; the blessed +bank!"</p> + +<p class="indent">This cheerful reminder proceeded (one day up the +river) from the lips and soul of the man in the stern, +who was steering. There was a sympathetic groan +from the man in the bows, who was smoking. The +working half of the crew received the observation, +which was thrown out gratuitously to all, in business-like +silence, broken only by the flash of four sculls as +one, and the swish of the feather blades through the +air. The groan in the bows was followed by a reflection +of kindred pathos, delivered in a high key:</p> + +<p class="indent">"We will call next Monday Black Monday; for to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 189]</span> +me it means Holyhead, Dublin, Kerry, and tenants! +blessed tenants! But not for always," added Flint suddenly; +"I don't say 'ever afterwards;' why should +you? Why should I be a slave to my Castle and you +to your City? Why shouldn't we emigrate together?"</p> + +<p class="indent">No one in the boat could see the speaker's face; +it was impossible to tell whether he was jesting or +serious.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, I'm game!" cried Maurice, very much in +earnest at once.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, then, just hold on till I give Castle Flint the +sack."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Or until it is sacked about your ears," suggested +stroke jerkily. "But what nonsense you two are talking!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not at all, Miss Edmonstone—if you will allow +me. You can't expect a man to live out his life in +troubled Ireland when there's a happy Australia to go +to: there, you know, you may combine the blessings +of liberty, equality, and Home Rule of the most advanced +kind, with the peculiar satisfaction of calling +yourself a staunch Tory, and believing it! But as for +our friend here, station life would add a year to his life +for every year the City is capable of shortening it. +He'd make a first-rate jackeroo."</p> + +<p class="indent">"What is that?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What's a jackeroo? Oh, a young gentleman—for +choice, the newest new chum to be found—who goes +to a station to get Colonial experience. He has to +work like a nigger, and revels in it, for a bit. If he +is a black sheep, and has the antique ideas of the Colonies +held by those who sent him out to whiten him, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 190]</span> +his illusions may last a couple of days; if he has read +up Australia on the voyage, they will probably hold +out a little longer, while he keeps looking for what his +book told him he would find; the fact being that the +modern bush life hasn't yet been done into English. +Meanwhile he runs up the horses, rides round boundaries, +mends fences, drives sheep to water—if it is a +drought—and skins the dead ones, weighs out flour +and sugar, cleans harness, camps anywhere, and lives +on mutton and damper, and tea."</p> + +<p class="indent">"But what does he get for all that?" asked Maurice, +with visions of money-bags.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Rations and experience," replied Flint promptly. +"When he's admitted to be worth his salt he will be +asked to make other arrangements. Then some still +newer new chum will be selected for the post, through +the introductions he has brought to the stock and +station agents, and in his turn will drive his teeth into +the dirty work of the station, which the ordinary +pound-a-week hands refuse, and so get his Colonial +experience!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Thanks; I'll stop where I am," said Maurice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He isn't fair," said Dick, speaking for the first +time. "You know you aren't fair, old chap, raking +up your own case as typical, when it was exceptional. +Jackeroos are treated all right, and paid too, so long +as they're smart and willing—the two things needful. +Come, I've been a squatter myself, and can't hear my +class run down."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You won't hear me defend the landlords on that +ground," remarked Flint, who had contracted eccentric +politics.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 191]</span> +"Well," said Dick, experimentally, "if I go back +to it, Maurice shall be my jackeroo, and judge for +himself whether you haven't painted us too black."</p> + +<p class="indent">He shipped his oars. Flint was standing up with +the boat-hook to pilot them through the open lock-gates.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then I'll ride the boundaries!" cried Fanny, who +sat a horse like a leech, but had had no mount for +years.</p> + +<p class="indent">"In that case," added Flint quietly, "I'll apply +for overseer's billet, with the right of sacking slack +hands."</p> + +<p class="indent">For a moment Dick looked really pleased: this jesting +about a station in Australia was, so far, feeling the +way, and might make matters a trifle easier when the +time came. But the smile quickly faded from his face. +In truth, on no day during these last weeks had he +been so troubled in spirit, so tossed between the cross-currents +of conflicting feelings.</p> + +<p class="indent">That morning he had received two letters, apparently +of contrary character: for while the perusal of +one gratified him so intensely that he could not help +handing it round for them all to see, the mere sight of +the other was sufficient to make him thrust the unopened +envelope hurriedly into his pocket.</p> + +<p class="indent">The first letter was indeed a matter for congratulation, +for it was the most completely satisfactory, though +not the first, of several similar communications which +Dick had received since his return from Australia. It +was a short note from the editor of the "Illustrated +British Monthly," accepting (for immediate use: a +great point) a set of sketches entitled "Home from +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 192]</span> +Australia," which set forth the humours and trials of +a long sea voyage, and were, in fact, simply a finished +reproduction of those sketches that had delighted the +passengers on board the Hesper. But it was more +than a mere formal acceptance: besides enclosing a +cheque (in itself a charming feature) to meet the present +case, the note contained a complimentary allusion +to the quality of the "work," and a distinct hint for the +future. This in a postscript—observing that as Australian +subjects were somewhat in demand since the +opening of the Colonial Exhibition—he (the editor) +would be glad to see anything thoroughly Australian +that Mr. Edmonstone might chance to have ready.</p> + +<p class="indent">Of course the precious note was read aloud, and +greeted with cries of delight. Fancy an opening with +the "Illustrated British" at this stage! What could +be better? And it did look like a real opening. The +hero of the moment alone sat silent; the unread letter +in his pocket checked his speech; it was from Yorkshire.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why did you ever leave us, when you can do so +splendidly here at home?" Mrs. Edmonstone asked +him, half in regret for the past, half in joy for the +future.</p> + +<p class="indent">Flint saw his friend's preoccupation, and answered +for him.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He didn't know it was in him till he got out there, +I fancy. I remember him sending his first things to +the Melbourne and Sydney papers; and before a year +was out, his famous buck-jumping picture was stuck +up in every shanty in New South Wales and Victoria."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 193]</span> +"Eh?" said Dick, looking up abruptly. "Oh, they +coloured it vilely! What do you say, mother? No, +I say, don't jump to conclusions. How do you know +I can do any real good? I've been lucky so far, but +I'm only at the very, very beginning. I may fail miserably +after all. And then where should I be without +my little pile?"</p> + +<p class="indent">After breakfast Dick read the letter from Yorkshire +in his own room.</p> + +<p class="indent">"At the risk of being unduly persistent," wrote +Colonel Bristo, "I must ask you to reconsider your +decision." (Dick had refused a short but pressing +invitation the week before.) "I know something of +your reasons for refusing, and I believe them to be +mistaken reasons. If you have really settled to return +to Australia, that is all the more reason why you should +come. If you like, I will undertake not to press you +to stay beyond one day; only do come to bid us good-bye. +Do not, however, fear to offend me by a second +refusal. I shall be grievously disappointed, but nothing +more. We really want you, for we shall be short +of guns; two of the men only stay till Monday, so come +on that day. But apart from all this, I am very sure +that your coming will make the days a little less dull +and dreary for one of us. Everything else has failed."</p> + +<p class="indent">The letter ended abruptly. Dick read it through +twice, and put it back in his pocket with a full heart.</p> + +<p class="indent">But what was he to do? Here was the good Colonel +honestly trying, in his own way, to set matters right +between him and Alice; but it was a childlike, if not a +childish way—a way that ignored causes and refused +to realise effects.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 194]</span> +Dick trusted he was no such fool as to be affected +by the hope that breathed in the Colonel's letter. The +Colonel was confessedly unversed in women's ways—then +why did he meddle? Surely it would have been +more natural, more dignified, to send him, Dick, to +the deuce, or to the Colonies—they were much the +same thing in the Old Country—than to waste another +thought on the man whom his own daughter (who +could surely judge for herself) had chosen to jilt? +Dick savagely wished that the former had been his +treatment; and, rowing down from Sunbury that afternoon, +he was so far decided that the phrases of his +refusal were in his head. Call it rude, churlish, obstinate; +he was obstinate, and was willing to own it; he +had refused the Colonel once, and that refusal should +be final.</p> + +<p class="indent">Nevertheless, he was absent and distrait all day, +whereas the others were in rather higher spirits than +usual, and the contrast was uncomfortable. Dick +therefore invented an excuse for running up to town, +promising himself a quiet corner of his club, in which +to write to the Colonel and pull himself together. He +needed pulling together: he was yearning to see Alice +again—perhaps only to ask her forgiveness and bid +her good-bye—yet vowing between his teeth to see +her no more; he would not be entirely himself until his +refusal was penned and posted.</p> + +<p class="indent">He walked absently to the station, forgot his change +at the ticket-office, and jumped into the nearest compartment +of the first train that came in. A man and +a woman got into the same compartment. Dick did +not see them, for he was attempting to interest himself +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 195]</span> +in an evening paper; but he could not help hearing +their voices as they sat opposite him in close conversation. +And, hearing, Dick was startled. His pulse +beat violently; his fingers tightened upon the edges of +the newspaper.</p> + +<p class="indent">"His fine friends," the man was saying, "are gone +into the country somewhere. We must find out +where."</p> + +<p class="indent">The tones were Jem Pound's.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why?" asked the same woman's voice that Dick +had heard in Bushey Park.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Because if Ned Ryan hasn't fled the country, that's +where he is!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"But he has gone back to Australia."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not he! He daren't go out there again. He'd be +a fool to do it if he dared. No, no. He cleared out +o' this because of you and me. He cracked he was +going out there again, because he knew we'd come +asking after him and they'd tell us that yarn. But +he's no more gone than I have. Mark me, missis, +we'll find him at this here Colonel's country place! +But we must find the place first."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick did not lower his paper until the train reached +Waterloo. Long before that his mind was filled with +one absorbing idea. A swift but complete reaction +had taken place within him; he was charged with +nervous energy and primed with impatience. Some +of the impatience he worked off in a rapid walk to +his club, where he answered Colonel Bristo's note in +a dozen words; but one idea continued in fierce possession +of his mind, to the exclusion of all others.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 196]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">ALICE SPEAKS FOR HERSELF</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Monday</span>, August 9th.—Here we are at last, at the +shooting box on the Yorkshire moors; or rather in +the Yorkshire dales. I mean, papa and I are here: +our faithful Mrs. Parish follows to-morrow, and the +"guns" are expected on Wednesday. We two have +been staying at a little seaside place on the coast—quite +a charming place, with not only broad sands, but +very presentable cliffs, and other things worth looking +at besides the sea; delightful gardens, for instance, +where the inevitable band played, instead of on the +everlasting pier. Of course, it was all rather tedious; +but the North Sea breezes and the delicious air did +one no harm, I felt, while they seemed to do papa +visible good. Indeed, he declares he feels fit for anything +now—meaning, of course, in the way of sport, +which I only hope he won't overdo. So perhaps, after +all, we did well to leave home a week earlier than we +at first intended (much as I hated leaving home at +all), for we have come to the moorland air with lungs +full of sea-air, and papa says there couldn't be a finer +mixture than that for me.</p> + +<p class="indent">But it is difficult to think of the sea here in the dales, +where we are so far from it. We are far from everything, +as it seems to me. Yet I am told, and I suppose +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 197]</span> +I must believe, that the great smoky town which +we passed through the other day is within twenty +miles of us, and we are assured that there is a very +"canny" village—if not a small town—four or five +miles from us. It is also true that it only took an hour +and twenty minutes to drive from the railway station, +but then there wasn't much of a village there. Now +we expected to find one here, and papa even professed +to point it out to me as we drove through; but as it +was nearly dark, and I could only make out a short, +huddled-up row of houses on one side of the road, +I couldn't see where the village came in, and told him +so. Still, it is down on the Ordnance map, Gateby by +name; and, though it is too dark to see now, it can +only be a few hundred yards from us.</p> + +<p class="indent">As for this house—which, by-the-bye, is nameless—I +am sure it has never been anything but a shooting +box, for it has no pretence to a garden, but stands +behind a hedge almost in a bare field—a plain, gaunt, +two-storied, evenly-balanced stone building. In the +three rooms down stairs there is very little furniture, +except what we sent before us. In one of them, the +smallest, a book-case with glass doors has been made +into a gun-rack, and this may point to the fact that +the place was not always what it is. This room we will +call "the gun-room." Whether it was built for better +things, I don't know; but for ages the house has been +let year after year for the shooting alone.</p> + +<p class="indent">At this moment an old man, with a pale blue eye +and a bright red nose, who is apparently caretaker and +general factotum of the establishment, is expatiating +to papa on the birds: their probable quantity and unmistakable +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 198]</span> +quality; but he has a barbarous tongue, +and for my part I am too tired to listen to him any +longer.</p> + +<p class="indent">Yes, tired—and sleepy too. If writing a diary has +always this effect upon me, it will more than fulfil its +original mission—which was only to help me to pass +the intolerable time!</p> + +<p class="indent">Tuesday, 10th.—I was up and out quite early, long +before breakfast, on a voyage of discovery. The first +thing I had seen, on drawing up my blind, was red-tiled +Gateby, straight in front of my window, across +half-a-dozen fields. I could see a path winding through +these fields, and coming out into the road just below +our house; so on this pathway I settled for my first +walk. I could see that it was the shortest way to +Gateby. I would inspect Gateby.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was a perfect morning, with plenty of sunshine +and blue sky, and the last of a soft white mist just +filling up the hollows of the meadows; so that I knew +that it would be a hot day, as, in fact, it is.</p> + +<p class="indent">When I had followed the path across the fields until +I had only two left to cross (and these were a potato +field and a meadow, from which a boy was driving in +the cows), I stopped and perched myself on a stone +gate-post, and surveyed Gateby. From there it looked +like one long low irregular building, stone-built and +red-tiled. Only one house, and that at the extreme left +of the rest, was slated. More of Gateby I could not +see from there, so I went on looking all round me. +Over the village rose the hills, with bold but even outline. +The hillsides are so evenly divided by the hedges +into so many squares that they look as though great +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 199]</span> +nets had been cast over them. The squares have all +kinds of colours—greens, and yellows, and dirty +browns (of ploughed fields). Following the bend of +the valley, as the fields grew less in perspective, +I noticed that they took a commoner tint, between +pale green and dun, until the farthest range of all +showed a uniform greyish-blue. I did not expect to +be able to see half so far when deep down in a dale, +and I thought the hills would be higher. In fact, with +this particular dale of ours I am a little bit disappointed; +for, instead of finding it a deep furrow in the +face of Nature, as I had made up my mind it would be, +it is, after all, the veriest dimple.</p> + +<p class="indent">Well, Gateby is a quaint enough little place when +you attack it fairly, from the front, as I presently did. +It has about a dozen houses all told, and they are all +on one side of the road, and hug each other as though +space were an object of the first importance. Several +of the houses are, at least, demi-semi-detached. The +largest of them is the public-house; the best the schoolhouse, +the front of which is simply one mass of pink +roses—I never saw anything like it.</p> + +<p class="indent">I walked back by the road. The pathway through +the fields merely cuts off, I now found, the angle made +by the two roads: the road in which we are, which +leads over the moor, and the road in which Gateby +is, which leads in one direction to the railway, six miles +off, and in the other—I don't know where. These +two roads join at right angles, and I believe they are +the only roads in the dale.</p> + +<p class="indent">Nearing home, I met the person with the gay-coloured +nose and eyes, and he stopped to bid me +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 200]</span> +good morning. I thought his complexion looked a +little cooler, but then it was very early morning. He +inquired, with some pride and expectancy, what I +thought of the dale. I answered, rather unkindly I am +afraid, that I thought it pretty, but a fraud: the hills +were too low, the valleys were too shallow.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah!" he observed compassionately, "waät till +thoo's been ower t' mower, an' seen t' view from +Melmerbridge Bank; an' waät till thoo sees Beckdaäl!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He went on to tell me all about Melmerbridge. +I almost think he offered to personally conduct me +over to Melmerbridge, and to show me its church, and +its beck, and the view from its bank. At any rate, +before I could get away from him I had learnt that +his name was Andy Garbutt, and that he had been +eight and twenty years, man and boy, come next +Michaelmas, in the service of the owner of our nameless +shooting-box.</p> + +<p class="indent">I found papa ready for breakfast, and delighted to +find that I had been out and about so early; there was +no need to tell him that it was simply because I could +not sleep or rest. And of course we both duly voted +the real Yorkshire bacon the very best we had ever +tasted in our two lives; though, for my part, I must +own I only swallowed it to please papa, whose eye was +upon my plate.</p> + +<p class="indent">In the afternoon we walked up to the moor together, +and papa was charmed because we "put up" quite a +number of birds. I could not stay long, however, as +papa wished me to drive off to meet Mrs. Parish, and I +am writing this while waiting for the trap, because, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 201]</span> +somehow, I cannot settle to reading—not even yellowbacks. +A horrid nuisance, her coming! I do wish it +had not been just yet. By-the-bye, papa tells me he +has heard from Mr. Miles, who, after all, has not yet +left England, his business having turned out different +from what he expected. Then how strange that we +have never heard from him all these weeks! I quite +thought he would be out there by this time. However, +he says he really does sail in a few days, and he only +wishes he saw his way to running down to say good-bye +to us—but that will be impossible. I believe papa +has written to him, telling him all about the place, and +the prospects, and who are coming. I am not sorry +that he is not coming, I think. This reminds me that +papa says that Dick Edmonstone has written saying +that he cannot possibly come. I am not at all sorry to +hear that. I think he shows his sense.</p> + +<p class="indent">Thursday, 12th.—Everybody came yesterday; and +now they are all on the moor, and we two women are +to go and have lunch with them at one. There are +five guns, and we hear them distinctly from time to +time. Besides papa, there are Cousin Philip (who likes +to be called Doctor Robson now), and Laurence +Pinckney, and Captain Awdry, and Mr. Oliver.</p> + +<p class="indent">Cousin Philip has been a long voyage to New Zealand +and back, as ship's surgeon, since we last saw +him. It ought to have improved him, and perhaps it +has; but to me he seems as dull and ponderous and +undecided as ever. He tells me that he interested +himself at sea by getting up prayer-meetings in the +steerage, which, he says, had far more heart in them +than the captain's perfunctory services on the quarter-deck; +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 202]</span> +but it seems that his zeal got him disliked—most +unrighteously—by the other officers. He is certainly +a good young man. Captain Awdry I have met once +or twice before; he is a great beauty, a great sportsman, +and that's all; but Mr. Oliver is new to me. I +fancy he is local—an ironmaster or something. He is +old, and tall, and well set-up; very deferential to me, +if you please, and tremendously keen about the grouse. +As for Laurence Pinckney—one has to call him Mr. +Pinckney now—he is nothing short of a revelation.</p> + +<p class="indent">When I knew him before, he used to go to some +public school—I forget which, but it can't be many +years ago. And now he is a "writing man," fresh +from Fleet-street, with all the jargon at his tongue's +end—and, in short, quite the most amusing boy. In +appearance he is just what he ought not to be. I have +always pictured to myself the literary man—especially +the literary young man—with long hair and eye-glasses, +and the rest bizarre. Therefore Laurence +Pinckney disappoints me; he is spruce, brisk, and +sharp-eyed, short, dark, and unguarded.</p> + +<p class="indent">He sat next me at dinner, and talked nothing but +his "shop"—which, however, is a kind of "shop" +that rather interests one; besides, the egotism of a raw +recruit in the noble army of authors is really diverting. +He talks fluently about all the new books, criticising +most of them severely, and I should say that he has +read and remembered at least two or three reviews of +each. He has told me the different magazines he +writes for, so that I shall know where to seek his name—if +I don't forget. He "thinks nothing of bearding +literary lions in their editorial dens;" and this, I +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 203]</span> +shouldn't wonder, has something to do with that +drawer full of rejected MSS. of which he has already +been frank enough to whisper—in fact, he has quite +taken me into his literary confidence. But indeed he +is rather amusing.</p> + +<p class="indent">Friday, 13th.—Mrs. Parish is really very agreeable, +and easier to get on with than for a long while past. +She tells me, among other things, that she saw more +of Mr. Miles's beggars after we left home—caught +them talking to the servants, and packed them off +about their business. Poor things! From her account, +I rather fancy they were the same I saw. She +went with me to luncheon on the moor yesterday. It +was really not bad fun. They were all in good spirits, +because, on the whole, they had made a good start. +Captain Awdry had done the most execution, and took +it the most sadly. But old Mr. Oliver had drawn first +blood, and, unlike the blasé Captain, was not above +showing his delight. Papa and Cousin Philip were +modest about their share: it was impossible to find out +exactly what they had done. Poor Laurence Pinckney, +however, had hit nothing at all; and, indeed, his +shooting must be execrable, to judge by what one +hears. I heard Mr. Oliver muttering that he would +not get within range of him, not if he knew it; while +Captain Awdry's contempt lies too deep for smiles or +sneers. But Mr. Pinckney does not care; he carries +a notebook with him, which he whips out whenever +the view strikes him as worth remembering, or whenever +something happy occurs to him. He says it is +extraordinary what happy thoughts do come to a man +who carries a gun. I tell him that to-morrow he must +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 204]</span> +think of nothing but his next shot. He answers that +to-morrow he must not shoot, as Saturday is always +a busy day with him, wherever he is:—on it he writes +for his weekly paper. He calls it "his," as though +the paper belonged to him, and I tell him so. He explains +that he is "on the staff—practically." He keeps +to himself the name of the paper and the nature of his +contributions: it is best to make no inquiries, I think.</p> + +<p class="indent">Saturday, 14th.—Papa tells me that Dick has written +to say he finds he can come after all, and is coming.</p> + +<p class="indent">Somehow it has been a wretched day. I seem to +have done absolutely nothing all day, and, now that +it is evening, my head aches, and I have come upstairs +quite early, though I know I shall never sleep. Poor +papa has been saying he sees I find it dull, and blaming +himself because I have no companion. As it happens, +that is, in my eyes, the most joyful feature of +the business, but I could not tell dear papa so; and he +was full of regrets that Cousin Maggie was prevented +from coming at the last moment—a circumstance for +which I can never be too thankful. Poor Maggie +would have been an infliction indeed. She has all the +heavy virtues of her brother—and imagine a feminine +Philip! That creature himself has annoyed me sufficiently +this evening: tacked himself on to me, talked +in a low voice, looked like a sheep, and would not be +snubbed—he never would, and never will. To escape +him, and for no other reason, I sang a song in response +to Laurence Pinckney's absurd pleadings. But I hate +singing! I hate the sound of my voice! I would give +worlds to be away from here, and at home again and +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 205]</span> +alone. I am tired of the place, and to be forever saying +civil things to people is insupportable, and replying +to their civility-speeches even worse. This minute I +hate everything and everybody, and myself the worst +of all!</p> + +<p class="indent">Sunday, 15th.—I wrote some contemptible nonsense +last night, when my head was splitting; but I will not +score it out; if ever I go mad these gradations will be +interesting, if not useful!...</p> + +<p class="indent">It is, by-the-bye, to-morrow, papa tells me, that Dick +is coming.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 206]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> + +<p class="h2a">CONTERMINOUS COURSES</p> + +<p class="indent">Between five and six o'clock in the afternoon of +Monday, August 16th, when the last train but one +steamed into the small station at Inglesby, six miles +from Gateby, one passenger left it. He was a tall man +in a light tweed suit. His luggage consisted of a portmanteau +and a gun-case. After looking in vain for +a conveyance outside the station, he found the station-master +and asked where he could get one to take him +to Gateby; the station-master directed him to the inn.</p> + +<p class="indent">Between six and seven, but rather more than an +hour later, the last train of the day came in. It also +deposited a single passenger—another sportsman, for +he too carried a gun-case; moreover, he went through +the same performance as the last arrival: looked first +for a conveyance and then for the station-master, to +whom he put the same question about a trap and Gateby, +and from whom he received the same direction. +But the official was struck with the coincidence, and +dropped a word or two about "the other gentleman;" +at which this one, whose name was Edmonstone, +started, though he walked off to the inn, a porter following +with his baggage, without putting further +questions.</p> + +<p class="indent">The inn had a great square parlour, scrupulously +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 207]</span> +clean and flagged with red tiles, where Dick entered, +and clattered on the well-scoured table. The person +of the landlady, who presently appeared, was in the +nicest harmony with floor and furniture, so neat and +spotless, and in hand and face so very red. Her +speech, however, as she asked what was wanted, was +by way of being rough.</p> + +<p class="indent">"In the first place," said Edmonstone, "two glasses +of beer"; and presently handed one to the porter, who +tendered his respects, received sixpence, repeated his +respects with emphasis, and withdrew. "In the next +place a horse and trap."</p> + +<p class="indent">"We've no hosses an' traps here, yooung man."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Come now!" said Dick. "They told me at the +station this was just the place where there was one."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Mebbe it is, but it's out now. Where is't ye want +to be?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Gateby."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Gaätby! Why, that's where it's gone with t'other +gentleman!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Indeed? To Colonel Bristo's, do you know?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"That was it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It's a pity I didn't come by the other train!" His +tone puzzled the woman. "We might have travelled +together, by Jove! What was the gentleman like?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Very tall."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Taller than I am, I suppose?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes—easy."</p> + +<p class="indent">"A fair beard?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"To be sure. You know him, then?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Very well indeed. We ought to have travelled together. +Has the trap that took him come back yet?"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 208]</span> +"Not it. It hasn't had time."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It must go back with me when it does. Don't look +like that, woman; here's a sovereign for the job!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He flung the coin on the table. The woman stared +at him and at it, seemed doubtful whether to take or +leave the sovereign, but eventually overcame her +scruples, honestly determining to throw in a good +square meal for the money.</p> + +<p class="indent">"The trap won't be back yet a bit, sir. You'll be +wanting——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nothing, except to be left alone," broke in the +strange guest. "That's all the trouble I shall put you +to—that, and to tell me when the trap's ready."</p> + +<p class="indent">There was no use in saying more to the gentleman. +He might not be quite right—he might fly at a body. +The good woman left him gazing abstractedly out of +the window; yet she had scarcely closed the door when +she heard him clattering to and fro over the tiled floor +like a caged beast.</p> + +<p class="indent">His thoughts were in a tumult. He calmed them +by a strenuous effort. He strove to look the matter +in the face. What was the matter?</p> + +<p class="indent">Ned Ryan, the Australian outlaw, who had been +screened on condition that he came near the Bristos +no more, had broken that condition; had somehow +heard that Edmonstone was not to be one of the shooting-party +in Yorkshire, and was even now the Colonel's +newly-arrived guest.</p> + +<p class="indent">After all, perhaps this was no more than Dick had +been prepared for, since his journey from Teddington +to Waterloo in the same compartment with Jem Pound +and Elizabeth Ryan; he had listened to a villain's suspicions +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 209]</span> +of a brother villain; from that moment he had +shared those suspicions. Dick realised then, and only +then, that while he was not near the Bristos they were +not safe from the advances of "Mr. Miles," if he was +bold enough to make them. But the sudden realisation +of his fears took Dick's breath away; he had not +bargained to find Miles already at Gateby—he had no +definite plan for the defeat of Miles, and he was certain +that the man described to him by the mistress of +the inn was Miles—as certain as if he had seen him +himself.</p> + +<p class="indent">Then how was he to act? Was he to show no quarter, +since this villain had played false? That course +presented difficulties—dangers as well; and at the least +it involved a violent scene under Colonel Bristo's roof. +Must he, then, parley a second time with the villain—let +him off again, trust him again, go on shielding a +known desperado? No. Ned Ryan could be trusted +no further, shielded no more. There were more +things than one to be considered—more people than +one. The man must receive his deserts.</p> + +<p class="indent">And to accomplish this—to deliver to justice a criminal +of the first water—this young Edmonstone went +blindly forward, with thoughts of doing it without fuss +and all but single-handed.</p> + +<p class="indent">There was little daylight left when Dick was driven +out of Inglesby; night fell long before he saw the +lights of Gateby; it was fully nine when they reached +the little square stone house behind the hedge. The +dogs in the kennel not far from the house barked an +alarm. The front door opened, and Dick saw a well-known +figure outlined against the light of the passage. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 210]</span> +It was the Colonel himself, and his greeting was most +cordial. Yet how hard it was to put any heart into +the answer! Dick tried, failed miserably, and knew +it. Before there was time for many sentences, Dick +found himself hustled into a room—a long, faded, unlovely +room—in which sat two ladies, Miss Bristo and +Mrs. Parish.</p> + +<p class="indent">The meeting between Alice and Dick—who had not +seen each other since that fateful second evening of +July—was perfectly careless without being conspicuously +cold. It may be assumed that neither was +wholly free from some sort of agitation; but it is to +be suspected that each had prepared for the same, and +masked accordingly. The mummery on both sides +was excellently well managed.</p> + +<p class="indent">Observations the most natural in the world, as well +as the most commonplace, were the order of the +minute.</p> + +<p class="indent">"How rude," said Alice, "you must have thought +us not to send to meet you! But we have actually only +one pony, and he had gone to Melmerbridge, which is +in the opposite direction."</p> + +<p class="indent">"We thought," said Mrs. Parish, "that as you had +not telegraphed, and did not come by the usual train, +you could not be coming to-night."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Pray don't name it," Dick answered to the one +lady; and to the other: "I really must apologise for +forgetting to wire."</p> + +<p class="indent">The window was wide open, for the night was +warm: and through the window came the voices of +men chatting, and the faint scent of cigars. Among +the voices Dick immediately distinguished one that he +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 211]</span> +was prepared for, and listened for—the soft, deep +voice of Miles. Strangely enough, he only caught the +well-known tones on the moment of entering the +room; speaking himself, and being spoken to by those +in the room, he could hear no more than a hum outside; +and when he listened again, during the first +pause, he could no longer hear Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">Very soon the conversation outside ceased altogether, +and a moment later the men appeared in the +room. There were but two of them, and Miles was +not one. As for Mr. Oliver and Captain Awdry, they +had only come for the first three days, and had both +gone on the Saturday evening.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick remembered one of the two men; a heavy-jawed, +squarely-built young man, whose eyes were of +pale green, whose chin never by any chance appeared +to have been shaved since the day before yesterday, +whose expression in repose was too demure for a man. +This was Philip Robson, and Dick shook hands with +him. The dapper little dark man Dick had never seen +before. Whoever he was, he seemed to know Alice +pretty well, by the way he promptly pestered her for a +song.</p> + +<p class="indent">"So you have only recently returned from Australia, +I understand," Robson said to Dick. "I, too, +am fresh from those parts. And I am told you came +by sailing-ship—so did I—as surgeon."</p> + +<p class="indent">The dapper young gentleman at the other side of the +room here made an inane remark in a loud tone about +both being in the same boat, which was ignored by +the worthy doctor and Dick, who stared. If they were +listening they must have heard this wag informing +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 212]</span> +Miss Bristo that she ought to laugh, and vowing that +he would throw away no more good things in mere +perishable words of mouth.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No," said Alice, "write them. It is far the best. +The point is so much more easily seen in print; and +then, instead of pearls wasted on us poor things, the +whole world roars at them."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Sixty thousand people have the chance," Laurence +Pinckney answered—in allusion, it was believed, to +the circulation of "his" weekly paper.</p> + +<p class="indent">But he seemed to have nothing smart ready just +then, for he went back to begging for a song.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Mr. Miles was somewhat tired, I presume, Dr. +Robson?" Mrs. Parish was saying. "You see he had +a great rush to come to-day. We only knew this +morning, when we got his telegram—so thoughtful of +him to send one!—that he had found it possible to +come at all."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes. He appeared to me to be considerably +fatigued—indeed, when he left us I thought him looking +pale. I offered to mix him a little something that +would fit him for to-morrow. But he wouldn't let +me."</p> + +<p class="indent">Cousin Philip became professional on the slightest +provocation.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was asking the Colonel about the sport so far.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Forty-eight brace the first day, forty-two the second; +five guns; over dogs. But," added the Colonel, +whispering, "my young friend over there hits nothing +at all. Philip is fair; but as for me, I don't see as I +used to. Awdry was the crack shot. But you and +Miles will be a better pair than Awdry and Oliver."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 213]</span> +Dick and Miles—coupled! That silenced Dick. +He felt his very skin bristle at the thoughts that poured +in upon his mind.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you know Mr. Miles?"</p> + +<p class="indent">The question was put in a solemn undertone by +Cousin Philip. Considering Dick's thoughts at that +moment, it was almost a startling question. He waited +a moment before replying.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," he then said slowly, "I know him."</p> + +<p class="indent">"An interesting man," said the doctor, "a profoundly +interesting man; that I can see, and I +congratulate myself on making his acquaintance. +I shall enjoy his society, I know. And a Colonial, +too."</p> + +<p class="indent">"My dear fellow, Colonials are as good as any other +people."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick had often to tell people that; but the words +were scarcely spoken before it struck him that, in this +connection, they were a little incongruous.</p> + +<p class="indent">"They may be; they may be. But when I travelled +for an insurance company in New Zealand, I know I +didn't think so. We went round the stations—the +agent and I—insuring people, you know."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick did know. He had himself met with many +such professional Samaritans in Riverina. They were +not popular there.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well," continued the young doctor, "I don't think +we were always well treated. In some places they +actually seemed to regard us with suspicion. We +didn't meet with the least respect, I can assure you. +Once or twice we were downright insulted. Now in +England——"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 214]</span> +"Let us listen to this song," said Dick. Robson +was really too ponderous.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice had at last yielded to the importunities of +Laurence Pinckney, and was singing something in +French. That young gentleman turned over the +leaves, but he did not look entirely appreciative. +When the song was over, he complained of the French +words. He wanted something in English; though he +could not refrain from a trenchant and sweeping criticism +of all the words of all the ballads and songs +foisted on the musical world during this last decade +of a degenerate age.</p> + +<p class="indent">There was no more singing, however; and presently +the small party broke up.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Early hours for the moors," the Colonel said. +"Philip, will you show Dick his room? I'm sorry +we've had to put you outside, Dick; but there are more +of us out than in, and there's really no choice. We +all rough it when we go a-shooting."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick laughed, and mentioned that the last few years +had not made him luxurious. The Colonel was on the +stairs, candle in hand. Dick would have liked to +speak to him then and there, and tell him everything—but +Robson was there too: an inquisitive fellow, unless +Dick's memory was at fault; a man who would +prick up his ears if he heard a private interview asked +for in his presence. So Dick merely said:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I must be up early and look round. Shall I see +you, sir, then?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"See me? Why, you'll find I've been about for a +good hour before you dream of awaking! Take it +easy, boy; you've been travelling all day. I'm different. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 215]</span> +I never slept longer than six hours in my life. +Good-night, Dick; good-night, Philip;" and Colonel +Bristo went off to bed.</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone followed Robson out into the dark, +comforting himself with the determination to tell Colonel +Bristo everything before breakfast next morning. +They walked for some moments, then stopped before +a door that opened upon a flight of deal stairs. A +candle and matches were on the bottom step. The +good doctor discharged his duty to the full by lighting +the candle and handing it to Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is the room on the left," said Robson.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Anyone in the room on the right?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, I think not—I'm sure not. You are over the +stable and that; Pinckney and I are a few yards away, +over the laundry. Good-night."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Good-night, Robson. I say, Robson!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Who is Pinckney?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Son of a brother officer of the Colonel's. Comes +from town, I fancy."</p> + +<p class="indent">"What does he do—besides making an ass of himself?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"He writes, I think."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I'm not surprised; he's got cheek enough for anything! +Good-night, Robson."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 216]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h2> + +<p class="h2a">STRANGE HUMILITY</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick found his room plainly and scantily furnished +but delightfully fresh, clean, and comfortable. There +was but one narrow strip of carpet by the bedside, but +the boards were as snowy as an admiral's poop; the +narrow bed stood out into the middle of the room, to +the left as you came in at the door. The ceiling, and +the walls, and the blind, and the bed, and the tall new +candles, and the dressing-table on which they stood, +were all very white indeed. At the foot of the bed +Dick found his portmanteau and gun-case, and the first +thing he did was to put together his gun, and stand it +in one corner of the room, ready for next day. He +happened to stand it in the corner nearest the bed head, +and farthest from the door; but there was no design +in that: the whole action was mechanical.</p> + +<p class="indent">He undressed slowly, or rather he was long in beginning. +He stood, resting his elbows on the chest +of drawers, and his chin in his palms, and watched the +candle burn half-way down before he so much as +wound his watch. It was only the wick's last throes +that reminded him to put an end to its flickering and +get into bed. But by that time Dick's mind was made +up. When he lay down to sleep he knew precisely +what he was going to do first thing in the morning, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 217]</span> +and more or less what he meant to say. He fell quickly +into a dreamless slumber.</p> + +<p class="indent">After sleeping like an infant for two or three hours +he experienced something very like a dream, and that +about the very man of whom he would certainly have +dreamt sooner or later. But this was no dream. +Dick was awakened: he lay still for a moment, peering +through the darkness, and listening with all his ears. +Then he started up in his bed, and called sternly:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Who is there? Who are you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">At the foot of the bed a tall figure loomed through +the darkness. The challenge was answered: first with +a short, soft laugh, then in the mildest tones of the +man who had passed himself off as Miles the squatter.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Hush! I have come to explain."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, it is you!" though Dick had known who it +was from the moment the light, stealthy step disturbed +him.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes; it isn't a burglar, so lie down again. I tell +you I come with a frank explanation. I suppose you +will listen to a man?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why should I? You have broken faith with +me!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"It amounts to that, I own. It must seem to you +that I deserve no further consideration at your hands. +Very well; all I ask is a hearing."</p> + +<p class="indent">The tones were so unlike anything that could have +been expected from the lips of this man that Edmonstone +was taken aback; they were so low as to be +scarcely audible; they were humble, and they were sad. +It was this very humility that at first excited Dick's +suspicion.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 218]</span> +"I will listen to you now," said he, after a moment's +thought, "but it is the last thing I shall do for you. +You might first strike a light. There are matches on +the dressing-table behind you, and two candles, I +think."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles complied unsuspectingly with this reasonable +request. He was some time, however, in finding the +matches. Yet he heard no sound (Dick's arm was so +long, so lithe his movement) until the candles were +alight; when two loud clicks caused him to wheel suddenly +round, throwing one candlestick with a crash to +the floor.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was sitting up quietly in his bed, as he had +been sitting a moment before; but in his hands was a +double-barrelled gun—cocked—the butt not six inches +from his shoulder, the muzzle not three feet from +Miles's breast. It could be brought to the shoulder +in a small fraction of a second. It could be fired with +sufficient deadliness without being brought to the +shoulder at all. A finger was upon each of the triggers. +The light of the single candle glittered upon +the barrels.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Now, my friend," said Dick, "I am ready to listen +to you as long as you like."</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles stared fixedly at the hammers of the gun. He +did not speak, he did not draw back. He stood there, +in his shirt and trousers, motionless and silent. This +was not, as we know, his first interview under arms, +but it was the first in which the arms had been in the +hands of the other side; moreover, he had once pressed +a pistol to the head of this Edmonstone whose gun +covered him now. The reversal of things was complete—the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 219]</span> +tables were turned to the last inch. The +strange part of it was that the outwitted bushranger's +face showed no trace of cunning baffled, or the fury +of an animal at bay, which might have been expected +of him. On the contrary, his countenance gradually +filled with quite another expression—one of reproach.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I am not a fool," he said, speaking at last. "I +was never yet fool enough to tackle a forlorn hope. +Therefore, even if I had come into this room armed +to the teeth to offer you violence, I should not dream +of competing against those double-barrels. But as I +came empty-handed, and in peace, I, for my part, can +say all I have to say comfortably into their muzzles—they +can make no difference to me, unless you press +too hard on those triggers in your anxiety; and if you +did, perhaps it would be the best turn you or any man +could do me! At the same time you are treating me +like a dog. The only words that have left my lips +were as submissive as any victor need want; I turned +my back on you without the smallest suspicion, yet +turn round again to find you pointing a gun at me!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You call that bad treatment!" Edmonstone +sneered. "You forget, perhaps, that you have no business +to be loose in the world; you forget that I found +you out and shielded you, wrongly enough, on certain +terms, which you have broken! Well, I am reminding +you; but I am not likely to give you a second +chance of playing me false. That is why I keep the +sight of my gun in a line with your stud—so; that is +why, if you come a step nearer, I won't answer for +consequences."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Considering," said Miles, "how I treated you a +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 220]</span> +few years ago, and what you owe to that treatment, +I should have thought you might behave rather differently +to-night; you might have shown a little generosity, +outlaw as I am."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You remind me," said Dick, "that in '82, in the +scrub near Balranald, you stuck up me and my mate, +and took almost everything we had—except our +money. I didn't require to be reminded of that forbearance +of yours. I haven't forgotten it, and I know +pretty well its worth by now, though hitherto I have +overvalued it. But that old account—supposing it to +be one, for argument's sake—was squared last month; +you have been fool enough to open a new one."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is a pity," said Miles, bitterly, "that I didn't +let Jem Pound knife you!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"On the contrary, through saving me then you +found one man in England actually ready to screen +you from justice. If you had not broken faith with +him that man would screen you still; but as it is—Steady! +don't move! I am pressing the trigger."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you mean that you are going to betray me after +all?" cried Miles, in a quick gasp of dismay, yet drawing +back—he had taken a step forward in his agitation.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What else would you have me do? Give you another +chance? Honestly," cried Dick, with honesty in +his tone, "I wish that I could! But can you expect +it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Listen to me!" cried Miles, in a deep faltering +voice. "Listen to me!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I am listening."</p> + +<p class="indent">"The other day, then—I mean the night you found +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 221]</span> +me out, you and those blood-suckers—I was on the +brink of a new life! You smile—but before Heaven +it is the truth! I had lived for weeks as I never lived +before—among good people. Bad as I was, they influenced +me, at first without my knowing it. It was a +new side of life to me. I found it was the best side. +I grew—well, call it happy. Then I looked back and +loathed the old days. I began to map out a better life +for myself. I was a new man, starting afresh. I +thanked God for my escape, for it seemed like His +act."</p> + +<p class="indent">"If the fellow isn't in earnest," thought Dick, "this +is the worst blasphemy I ever heard. I half think he +means what he says, poor wretch."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was you that blotted out that new existence—just +as it opened out before me! It was you that +drove me from my haven! It was you that turned me +adrift in a city full of foes! So much for your side +of the balance between us!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was half-carried away by the man's rough eloquence, +and the note of pathos in his deep tones. But +he was only half-carried away; he was a man hard to +shift when his stand was once taken. His answer was +shrewd:</p> + +<p class="indent">"That city is the safest place in the world for such +as you—safer even than the bush. As to your friends, +did you expect to live on them forever?"</p> + +<p class="indent">The other's vehemence was checked.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Perhaps you intended to become one of the +family!" said Edmonstone scornfully, pursuing his +advantage.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles pulled himself together, and dismissed this +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 222]</span> +keen question with a smile and a wave of the hand; +but the smile faded quickly; nor had it been anything +better than a ghastly mockery.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You do not appreciate my position," said Miles +presently, fetching a deep sigh; "you cannot put yourself +in my place. No honest man could, I suppose! +And you shut me off from all decent living; you made +me bid good-bye to the people who had befriended +me, and somehow—well, made me wish I was a little +less the ruffian! I became an outcast! I tried to make +new friends, but failed. I had lost my nerve somehow—that +was the worst of it! I resolved to throw it up, +and quit England. I took my passage for New York, +and—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you mean what you say? Have you actually +done that?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes. The ticket is in my room, which is opposite +this room." He pointed to the door. "I can bring +it to show you."</p> + +<p class="indent">"No; stay where you are; I believe you. When do +you sail?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"In a week—next Tuesday."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick breathed more freely. Here was an extenuating +circumstance of the broken compact. On the +whole, Dick was glad to find one.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Go on," said Dick, in a slightly less hostile tone: +"tell me the rest, and what it was that induced you +to come up here."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Surely you can see the rest for yourself? Surely +you can put yourself in my place at this point? I own +that hearing you were not to be of the party finally +induced me to come—I thought you would not hear +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 223]</span> +of it till afterwards; but I came to bid my friends +good-bye! to get one more glimpse of a kind of life +I had never seen before and shall never see again! for +one more week in a pure atmosphere."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh! not to make up to Miss Bristo, then?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Blunt though the words were, each one was a self-inflicted +stab to the heart of the man that spoke them.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No!" cried Miles, and his voice was turned suddenly +hoarse; "no, before Heaven!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"If I believed it was that, I think I should pull this +trigger on the spot."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is not," cried Miles; "I swear it is not," he +whispered.</p> + +<p class="indent">And Dick believed him then.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, man," the bushranger went on, more +steadily, "you have got me under the whip here. +Down with the lash and cut me to ribbons the first +time you see me playing false. Keep your eye on me; +watch me all day; I can do nothing up here without +your knowledge; I cannot speak but you will hear +what it is I say. As to Miss Bristo, I will not go near +her—but this is a small part of the whole. In my +whole conduct you will find me behave like—like a +changed man. Only let me stay this week out. But +one other thing—a thing I would go down on my +knees to you for, if that would do any good: don't +open their eyes when I am gone. There will be no +need to; they will forget me as Miles the squatter if +you let them. Then let them. They think well of +me because I saved the old man from drowning. Edmonstone, +you can let me keep their good opinions if +you will. God help me! they are the only good +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 224]</span> +opinions I ever honestly earned, because I got them +entirely through that simple, paltry affair at the seaside. +Do not rob me of them, now or afterwards. +That is all I ask."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was beginning to waver.</p> + +<p class="indent">There was an honest ring in Ned Ryan's asseverations; +and after all it was just possible that a villain, +who had shown a soft side at least once before, might +be softened right through by the gracious influence +of an English home. Then Sundown, the bushranger, +desperado though he had been, had preserved hands +unstained by blood; and Sundown the bushranger had +saved him, Edmonstone, from death and ruin in the +Australian wilds, and Colonel Bristo from drowning. +Such acts could not be made light of or forgotten, +no matter who was their author.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was relenting, and the other saw it.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Stay!" said Miles, suddenly. "You have my +word only so far. I can show you a better pledge of +good faith if you will let me."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where is it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"In my room."</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone nodded. Miles left the room, and +returned immediately with a paper, which he handed +to Edmonstone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, this is a receipt of passage-money for two!" +said Edmonstone, looking up. "You are not going +out alone, then?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No," said Miles. His voice was low. His back +was to the window, through which grey dawn was +now stealing. It was impossible to see the expression +on his face—its outline was all that was visible.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 225]</span> +"Who is going with you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"My wife!" whispered Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was taken aback, glad, incredulous.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Your wife!" he said. "Then you admit that she +is your wife? When did you see her?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yesterday."</p> + +<p class="indent">"But not until then!" Dick meant to put a question; +he did not succeed in his excitement—his tone +was affirmative.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, not until then," said Miles quietly; "because, +though I have been watching her as closely as I dared, +it was the first chance I got of seeing her without seeing +Pound. He thinks she has not seen me since the +night in Bushey Park. She must not escape him until +the very day of joining me on board the steamer. If +she did, he would find her sooner or later; and then +he would find me, which is all he is living for. That +man would murder me if he got the chance. Do you +understand now?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick made no reply, but it all seemed clear and +intelligible to him; Pound's hold upon Mrs. Ryan, +and the false position in which that fiend placed the +woman at the meeting of husband and wife, which +accounted for Ryan's misunderstanding and heartless +treatment of his wife on that occasion; the reconciliation +of husband and wife; their projected departure +for America; the necessity of deceiving Pound +meanwhile, and getting away without his knowledge. +All these things seemed natural enough; and, told +in the desperately earnest tones of a strong man +humbled, they carried conviction with them. Nor +were they pleaded in vain.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 226]</span> +The way in which Dick finally put the matter was +this:—</p> + +<p class="indent">"Remember," he said, "that it is for my friends' +sake as much as for yours; that this is our second +treaty; and that if you break one particle of it there +are always four men in the house here, and villagers +in plenty within a cooee of us."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I know all these things," said Miles, very humbly, +"and will forget none of them."</p> + +<p class="indent">And so the interview ended.</p> + +<p class="indent">When Miles was gone, Dick lifted his gun, which +had lain long upon the counterpane, pressed the lever, +bent down the barrels, and aimed them at the glimmering +window-blind. The early morning light shone +right through the gleaming bores—the gun had been +empty all the time! Dick felt ashamed of the part that +it had played in the interview.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 227]</span></p> + +<p class="h2a">AN ALTERED MAN</p> + +<p class="indent">Colonel Bristo was rambling about the place, according +to habit, for a good hour the next morning +before the early breakfast, but he saw nothing of Dick +until the bell rang for that meal.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I thought you meant turning out early?" said +the old fellow to the young one, with a smile. "I've +been looking for you in vain; but I'm glad you followed +my advice and took it easy. Did you sleep well, +though? That's the main thing; and 'pon my soul, +you look as though you had been awake all night!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, I was all right, thanks, sir; I slept pretty +well," said Dick, with awkward haste.</p> + +<p class="indent">The Colonel felt pretty sure that Dick had been all +wrong, and slept not at all. There was a haggard +look about him that put the fact beyond the contradiction +of words.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You didn't see Miles, I suppose?" said the +Colonel after a moment's thought. "His room is +close to yours, you know."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I did see him. We—we exchanged a few +words."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick's tone and manner were strange.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Confound them both!" thought the Colonel. +"They have clashed already. Yes, that is it. I wonder +how it came about? I didn't think they were such +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 228]</span> +implacable foes. Mrs. Parish hinted to me long ago +that they were, and that it would be best not to have +them here together. Is it all on Alice's account, I +wonder? Anyway, it is by no scheme of mine that +they are here together. Why, I wrote Miles a list of +our little party without a word about Dick. I never +thought Dick was coming. Yet I am glad now he is +come."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was really kind of you," said Colonel Bristo +aloud, "to give in and come after all."</p> + +<p class="indent">"No," said Dick, with sudden fire. "I'm thankful +I came! I am grateful to you for refusing to take my +first refusal. Now that I am here, I would not be elsewhere +at this moment for the whole world!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The Colonel was pleased, if a little puzzled, by this +vehement outburst.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Are you really going out again—back to the +bush?" he said presently.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," said Dick, the fire within him quickly +quenched. "I have quite settled that point—though +I have told no one but you, Colonel Bristo."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, well—I think you are making a sad mistake; +but of course every man decides for himself."</p> + +<p class="indent">That was all Colonel Bristo said just then, for he +knew that the young people had barely seen one another +as yet. But up on the moor, an hour or two +later, when the guns divided, he felt inclined to say +something sharp, for the manner in which Dick +avoided shooting with Miles was rather too pointed, +and a good deal too ridiculous and childish for the +Colonel's fancy.</p> + +<p class="indent">That evening the conversation at the Colonel's dinner, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 229]</span> +and that around the beer-stained board—dedicated +of an evening to the engrossing domino—in the +inn at Gateby, were principally upon the selfsame +topic—to wit, the excellence of Miles's shooting.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I can't conceive," said the Colonel, "seeing that +you have never shot grouse in your life before, how +you do it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"If I couldn't shoot straight," said the hero of the +evening (for the bag that day was the biggest yet, +thanks to Miles), "I ought to be shot myself. I was +reared on gunpowder. In the bush—instead of the +silver spoon in your mouth—you are born with a fire-arm +in your hand!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick smiled grimly to himself. And yet this was +the longest speech the Australian had made all the +evening. Miles was strangely subdued, compared +with what he had been at Graysbrooke. The Colonel +and his daughter had each noticed this already; and +as for Mrs. Parish, she was resolved to "speak up" +on the subject to Alice, whom she blamed for it +entirely.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yon yoong man—him 't coomed las' night—t' +long wan, I mean," declared Andy Garbutt in the pot-house, +banging down his fourth glass (empty) upon +the table, which upset several dominoes and led to +"language"—"yon yoong man's t'bes' shot I iver +seed. The way he picked off t'ould cocks, an' let be +t'yoongsters an' all, was sumthink clever. I niver +seed owt like it. They do say 'tis his first taast o' +t'mowers—but we isn't the lads to swaller yon! Bob +Rutter, y' ould divle—fill oop t' glasses."</p> + +<p class="indent">And though perhaps, hyperbole ran riot upon the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 230]</span> +heels of intoxication, still in Robert Rutter's genial +hostelry "t' long chap's" reputation was there and +then established.</p> + +<p class="indent">But the marked change in Miles's manner was, to +those who had known him best before, inexplicable. +Never had a shooting-party a more modest, mild, and +unassuming member, even among the worst of shots; +and Miles was, if anything, better than Captain Awdry. +His quiet boastfulness was missing. He might have +passed the weeks since the beginning of July in some +school of manners, where the Colonial angles had +been effectually rounded off, and the old free-and-easy +habits toned down. Not that he was shy or awkward—Miles +was not the man to become either the one or +the other; but his manner had now—towards the +Colonel, for instance, and Alice—a certain deference-with-dignity, +the lack of which had been its worst fault +before. Dick, who scarcely spoke three words to him +in as many days, suddenly awoke to a sense of relief +and security.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Poor fellow!" he thought, "he is keeping his +word this time, I must own. Well, I am glad I didn't +make a scene; and the week is half over. When it is +quite over, I shall be still more glad that I let him off. +For, after all, I owe him my life. I am sorry I threatened +him during our interview, and perhaps I need +not have avoided him so studiously since. Yet I am +watching him, and he knows it. I watch him sometimes +when he cannot possibly know it, and for the +life of me I can see nothing crooked. My belief is +that he's only too thankful to get off on the terms, and +that he wouldn't break them for as much as his life +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 231]</span> +is worth; besides which, his remorse the other night +was genuine."</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Parish, for her part, was quite sure that it was +love unrequited with Mr. Miles, and nothing else. +She fumed secretly for two days, and then "spoke +up" according to her intention. What she said was +not well received, and a little assault-at-words was the +result.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dr. Robson told Mr. Pinckney that he found Miles +a less interesting man to talk to than he had been led +to expect from his conversation the first evening. +Mr. Pinckney replied that if all the Australians were +as unsociable, he was glad he didn't live out there. +Though Miles, he said, might be a fine sportsman and +a devilish handsome dog, there was evidently "nothing +in him;" by which it was meant that he was not +intellectual and literary—like L. P.</p> + +<p class="indent">Colonel Bristo was fairly puzzled, but, on the whole, +he liked the new Miles rather less than the old.</p> + +<p class="indent">As for Alice, though she did her best to exclude her +personal feelings from the pages of her diary, she +could not help just touching on this matter.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I never," she wrote, "saw anybody so much +changed as Mr. Miles, and in so short a time. Though +he is certainly less amusing than we used to think him, +I can't help admitting that the change is an improvement. +His audacity, I remember, carried him a little +too far once or twice before he left us. But he was a +hero all the time, in spite of his faults, and now he is +one all the more. Oh, I can never forget what we owe +to him! To me he is most polite, and not in the least +(as he sometimes used to be) familiar, I am thankful to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 232]</span> +say. The more I think of it the less I can account for +his strange behaviour that night of our dance—because +it was so unlike what he had been up till then, +and what he is now."</p> + +<p class="indent">Of Dick this diary contained no mention save the +bald fact of his arrival. There was, indeed, a sentence +later on that began with his name, but the few words +that followed his name were scored out so carefully +as to be illegible. The fact was that the estrangement +between the pair was well-nigh hopeless. They conversed +together, when they did converse, with mutual +effort. Dick found himself longing to speak—to ask +her forgiveness before he went—but without opportunity +or encouragement. Alice, on the other hand, +even if ready to meet an overture half-way, was the +last person in the world to invite one. Under the conditions +of the first few days, meeting only at breakfast +and dinner, and for an hour or so in the drawing-room +afterwards, these two might have been under one roof +for weeks without understanding one another a whit +the better.</p> + +<p class="indent">But meanwhile, Alice seemed to benefit very little +by her change from the relaxing Thames valley to the +bracing Yorkshire moors; and as for Dick—except +when the Colonel was present, for whose sake he did +make an effort to be hearty—he was poor company, +and desperately moody. He was also short-tempered, +as Philip Robson found out one morning when they +were tramping over the moor together. For Cousin +Philip was sufficiently ill-advised to inform his companion +that he, Dr. Robson, thought him looking far +from well—at a moment when no good sportsman +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 233]</span> +would have opened his mouth, unless in businesslike +reference to the work in hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I'm all right, thanks," Dick answered shortly, +and with some contempt.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah!" said Philip, compassionately, "perhaps you +are not a very good judge of your own health; nor +can you know how you look. Now, as a medical +man—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Spare me, my dear fellow. Go and look at all the +tongues of the village, if you must keep your eye in. +They'll be charmed. As for me, I tell you I don't +want—I mean, I'm all right."</p> + +<p class="indent">"As a medical man," pursued Philip, "I beg to +dif—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Hang it!" cried Dick, now fairly irritated. "We +didn't come out for a consultation, did we? When +I want your advice, Robson, you'll hear from me."</p> + +<p class="indent">With such men as Robson, if they don't feel the first +gentle snub (and the chances are all against it), anything +short of an insult is waste of breath. Yet, having +driven you into being downright offensive, they at +once turn sensitive, and out with their indignation as +though they had said nothing to provoke you. Witness +the doctor:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I thought," he cried, beginning to tremble violently, +"I came out with a gentleman! I meant what +I said for your good—it was pure kindness on my +part, nothing else. I thought—I thought—"</p> + +<p class="indent">At that point he was cut short; for Edmonstone had +lost his temper, turned on his heel with a short, sharp +oath, and made Philip Robson his enemy from that +minute.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 234]</span></p> + +<p class="h2a">EXTREMITIES</p> + +<p class="indent">That same evening (it was on the Thursday), on his +return from shooting, Dick Edmonstone found, +among the other letters on the table in the passage, +one addressed to himself in a strange hand. The writing +was bad, but characteristic in its way; Dick had +certainly never seen it before. The envelope bore a +London postmark. He took the letter into the little +back room, the gunroom, and sat down to read it +alone.</p> + +<p class="indent">Twilight was deep in this room, for the window was +in an angle of the house, facing eastward, and was +overshadowed by the foliage of a fair-sized oak. Some +out-lying small branches of this tree beat gently +against the upper pane; the lower sash was thrown +up. The window was several feet above the ground. +The corner below was a delightful spot, shaded all day +from the sun; a basket-work table and chair were always +there, for the nook was much affected by Mrs. +Parish, and even by Alice, in the hot, long, sleepy +afternoons.</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone had read to the end of his letter, when +the door opened and Miles entered the room. Dick +looked up and greeted him: "This is lucky. I was +just coming to look for you. I want to speak to you."</p> + +<p class="indent">The other's astonishment was unconcealed. Since +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 235]</span> +the small hours of Tuesday the two had not exchanged +a dozen words. Edmonstone had avoided Miles on +the moor, and elsewhere watched him as a terrier +watches a rat in a trap. Miles could not guess what +was coming.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have a letter here that will interest you," said +Dick. "Listen to this:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="indent">"'Dear Edmonstone,—I thought I'd look you up +yesterday, as I had nothing on, but, like my luck, I +found you away. Your people, however, treated me +handsomely, and I stayed all the afternoon. We talked +Australia; and this brings me to the reason of my writing +to you. Your people told me of a rather mysterious +Australian who stayed some time with the people +you are with now, and went out again very suddenly +at the beginning of last month. His name was Miles; +your sister described him to me, and the description +struck me as uncommon like that of a well-known +gentleman at present wanted by the police of the Colony. +The fact is, I have stumbled across an old mate +of mine (a sergeant in the mounted police), who is over +here after this very gent, and who I am helping a bit +in the ready-money line. As he is working on the +strict q.t., I must not tell you whom he's after. In +fact, it's all on my own account I am writing you. I +haven't told him anything about it. It's my own idea +entirely, and I want you to tell me just this: Have your +friends heard anything of this Miles since he left them? +because I've been making inquiries, and found that no +such name as Miles has been booked for a passage out +at any of the London offices during the past two +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 236]</span> +months! Of course I may have got hold of a wild-goose +notion; but Miss Edmonstone told me that your +friends made this Miles's acquaintance in an offhand +kind of a way, and nobody else knew anything about +him. Anyway, I'll wait till I hear from you before telling +Compton, who's down at the seaside on a fresh +clue.—Yours faithfully, Stephen Biggs.'"</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="indent">"What name was that?" asked Miles quickly. He +had listened calmly to the end. But at the very end +the colour had suddenly fled from his face.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Biggs—the Hon. Stephen, M. L. C. A warm man +for a campaign, rich as Crœsus. If he's set his heart +upon having you, he'll chase you round and round the +world——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No. I mean the other man—the name of the sergeant."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick referred to the letter.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Compton," he said.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Compton!" repeated Miles in a whisper. "The +only 'trap' in Australia I ever feared—the only man +in the world, bar Pound, I have still to fear! Compton! +my bitterest enemy!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone rose from the armchair in which he +had been sitting, sat down at the table, opened a blotter, +and found a sheet of notepaper.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Must you answer now?" cried Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes; on the spot."</p> + +<p class="indent">"What do you mean to say?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have not decided. What would you say in my +place? I am a poor liar."</p> + +<p class="indent">"If we changed places, and I had treated you as +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 237]</span> +you have treated me these two days—since our compact—I +should write them the worst, and have done +with it," said Miles, in a low tone of intense bitterness. +"You professed to trust me. Yet you won't trust +yourself near me on the moors; you fear foul play at +my hands. You watch me like a lynx here at the +house; yet I swear man never kept promise as I am +keeping mine now! You do things by halves, Edmonstone. +You had better end the farce, and wire the +truth to your friend."</p> + +<p class="indent">Reproach mingled with resignation in the last quiet +words. Edmonstone experienced a twinge of compunction.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nonsense!" he said. "I should be a fool if I +didn't watch you—worse than a fool to trust you. But +betraying you is another matter. I don't think of doing +that, unless——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I can keep my word, Edmonstone, bad as I may +be! Besides, I am not a fool."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And you are going on Monday?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes—to sail on Tuesday; you have seen my +ticket."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then you shall see my answer to this letter."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick then dashed off a few lines. He handed the +sheet, with the ink still wet, to Miles, who read these +words:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="indent">"Dear Biggs,—A false scent, I am afraid. Ladies +are never accurate; you have been misinformed about +Miles. I knew him in Australia! He cannot be the +man you want.—Yours sincerely,</p> + +<p class="right">"R. Edmonstone."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 238]</span> +The sheet of writing paper fluttered in Miles's hand. +For one moment an emotion of gratitude as fierce as +that which he himself had once inspired in the breast +of Edmonstone, swelled within his own.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are a friend indeed," he murmured, handing +back the letter. "And yet your friendship seems like +madness!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"My old mate swears that I am mad on the subject!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick folded and enclosed his note in an envelope, +directed it, and got up to go. Miles followed him to +the door and wrung his hand in silence.</p> + +<p class="indent">When the door was closed upon Edmonstone, Miles +sank into the armchair, and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p class="indent">His expression was human then; it quickly hardened, +and his face underwent complete transformation. +A moment later it was not a pleasant face to look upon. +The ugliness of crime had disfigured it in a flash. The +devils within him were unchained for once, and his +looks were as ugly as his thoughts.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Curse it!"—he was thinking—"I must be losing +my nerve: I get heated and flurried as I never did before. +Yet it was not altogether put on, my gratitude +to this young fellow: I do feel some of it. Nor were +they all lies that I told him the other night; I am altered +in some ways. I believe it was that spice of truth +that saved me—for saved I am so far as he is concerned. +Anyway, I have fooled him rather successfully, +and he'll know it before he has done with me! True, I +did not bargain to meet him here, after what the +Colonel wrote; but I flatter myself I made the best of +it—I can congratulate myself upon every step. No; +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 239]</span> +one was a false step: I was an idiot to show him the +passage-money receipt; it was telling him the name +and line of the steamer and opening up the track for +pursuit when we are gone. And yet, and yet—I could +not have laid a cleverer false scent if I had tried! Instead +of money flung away, that passage-money will +turn out a glorious investment; we'll show a clean pair +of heels in the opposite direction, while our good +friends here think of nothing but that one steamer! +And so, once more, everything is turning out well, if +only I can keep this up three days longer; if only Jem +Pound and Frank Compton do not trouble me; if only—if +only I am not mistaken and misled as to the ease +with which I may carry off—my prize!"</p> + +<p class="indent">And strange to say, as he thought of that final +coup, the villainy faded out of his face—though +the act contemplated was bad enough, in all conscience!</p> + +<p class="indent">All at once a creaking noise startled Miles. He +rose from his chair, and crossed with swift noiseless +steps over to the window. A man was lifting himself +gingerly from the basket-work chair—the man was +Philip Robson.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles leant out of the window, seized him by the +collar, and drew him backward with a thud against +the wall below the window.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Eavesdropper! listener!" hissed Miles; and quick +as lightning he changed his hold from the doctor's +collar to the doctor's wrists, which he grabbed with +each iron hand and drew upward over the sill.</p> + +<p class="indent">The sill was more than six feet from the ground. +The doctor stood on tiptoe—helpless—in a trap. The +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 240]</span> +doctor's face was white and guilty. The doctor's +tongue was for the moment useless.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What were you doing there?" Miles demanded +quietly, but with a nasty look about the eyes.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I—I had been asleep. I came back early from the +moors because Edmonstone insulted me. I was just +awake. Let go my hands, will you? I heard something—a +very little—I could not help it. What do you +mean by holding my wrists like this? Leave loose of +them, I say!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then tell me what you heard."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Something that I could not understand. If you +don't let me go this instant, I'll sing out!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Will you stand and talk sensibly, and listen to what +I tell you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, I swear I will."</p> + +<p class="indent">"There, then, you're free. Now I'll just tell you, +in effect, what you did hear," said Miles, whose inventive +brain had been busy from the moment he +had discovered Robson. "You heard Edmonstone +speak to me as though I was a villain: well, he +firmly believes I am one. You heard him read me +a letter from some one 'wanting' me: he has read +me many such letters. I believe you heard me asking +him in effect not to tell any one, and thanking him: +this is what I make a point of doing. The fact is, +Edmonstone is under the delusion that I am a man +who robbed him in Australia. This is what's the +matter!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles tapped his forehead significantly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You don't mean it!" cried Robson, starting back.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I do; but not so loud, man. His friends don't +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 241]</span> +suspect anything; they needn't know; it's only on this +one point. What, didn't you hear our last words? +I said, 'It seems like madness.' He answered, 'My +old mate'—meaning the man who was with him at +the time of the robbery—'my old mate,' he says, +'swears that I am mad on that subject.'"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Whew!" whistled the doctor. "Yes, I heard +that."</p> + +<p class="indent">"It speaks for itself, eh? But I put it to you as a +medical man," said Miles, rising still more fully to the +occasion, and remembering the doctor's weak point: +"I put it to you as a medical man—has there not been +something strange about his manner?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Robson thought at once of the disagreeable incident +of the morning.</p> + +<p class="indent">"There has, indeed," he said, without hesitation; +"I have noticed it myself!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Even Miles marvelled at his own adroitness; he was +elated, and showed it by fetching a deep sigh.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Poor Edmonstone! he is quite touched on the +point. Perhaps the affair brought on a fever at the +time, for he is an excitable fellow, and that would +account for it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"But is he safe?" asked Robson, eagerly. "He +can't be!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, yes, he is; quite. I repeat, it is only on that +one point, and nobody knows it here. And, mind, +you are not to breathe a word of it to any single +soul!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Philip was entirely taken in for the time being; but +his silence was another matter. That could only be +pardoned, even on short lease, by an apology from the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 242]</span> +rude Colonial. The doctor's wrists smarted yet; his +self-esteem was still more sore.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I am so likely," said he, with fine irony, "to do +your bidding after the manner in which you have +treated me!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Call it taking my hint," said Miles, with a nasty +expression in the eyes again. "You will find it a hint +worth acting upon."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You had no business to treat me as you did. It +was a gross outrage!" said the doctor, haughtily.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Come, now, I apologise. It arose from my irritation +on Edmonstone's account, at the thing getting +out. For his sake, you must indeed promise to hold +your tongue."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Very well," said Philip Robson, reluctantly; "I—I +promise."</p> + +<p class="indent">And he meant at the time to keep his promise, if +he could. In fact, he did keep it. For a little calm +reflection, away from the glamour thrown by Miles's +plausibility, and in the sober light of Philip's own +professional knowledge, served to weaken the case of +insanity against Dick Edmonstone. At the same time, +reflection strengthened Edmonstone's case against +Miles, though Robson had only oblique information +as to the specific nature of that case. But at any rate +there was no harm in opening the letter-box (which +was cleared in the morning) late at night, and sending +just one anonymous line to the same name and address +as those upon the envelope directed in Edmonstone's +hand. If Miles was really a forger of some kind, and +Edmonstone was really shielding him, then there was +an excellent chance of scoring off them both at once. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 243]</span> +And Philip Robson had contracted a pretty strong +grudge against both these men since morning.</p> + +<p class="indent">Meanwhile Miles remained subdued and pensive, +furtively attentive, but extremely humble, towards +Miss Bristo, and talkative to one person only—Mrs. +Parish. He was indeed, as he said, no fool. He was +full of cunning and coolness, foresight and resource. +He was biding his time—but for what?</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 244]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">THE EFFECT OF A PHOTOGRAPH</p> + +<p class="indent">Laurence Pinckney was a hopeless sportsman. +When he realised this for himself he laid down his +gun, and presently took up with Miss Bristo's camera +as a weapon better suited to him.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice had made no use of the apparatus for weeks +and weeks; it was sent down with other luggage +without her knowledge, and she never thought of +unpacking it until Mr. Pinckney pleaded for instruction; +when—perhaps because Alice felt that without +an occupation this visitor would be on her hands +all day—he did not plead in vain. He did not, +however, require many lessons. He knew something +about it already, having given the subject some attention +(in the reading room of the British Museum) +before writing one of his rollicking articles. Nor were +the lessons she did give him much of a nuisance to +Alice, for when he forgot to talk about his work, and +refrained from coruscation, there was no more sensible +and polite companion than Laurence Pinckney.</p> + +<p class="indent">When, therefore, he set out on that Friday's ramble, +which produced one really good negative, and a number +of quaint little Arcadian observations jotted down +in his notebook, it was with the entire photographic +impedimenta slung about his person, and some idea +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 245]</span> +in his head of an article on "The North Yorkshire +Dales," to be illustrated by the writer's own photographs.</p> + +<p class="indent">His destination was a certain ancient abbey, set in +gorgeous scenery, eight long miles from Gateby. But +long before he got there a hollow of the plain country +road tempted him, and he fell.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was quite an ordinary bit of road; a tall hazel-hedge, +and a pathway high above the road on the left; +on the right, a fence with trees beyond it, one of them, +an oak of perfect form, that stood in the foreground, +being of far greater size than most of the trees in this +district, and in strong contrast to its neighbours. That +was really all. It never would have been picturesque, +nor have taken our artist's fancy, but for the sunlight +on the wet road and the fleecy pallor of the sky where +it met the sharp line of distant dark blue hills far away +over the hazel-hedge, to the left. But the sunlight +was the thing. It came, as though expressly ordered, +from, so to say, the left wing. It rested lightly on the +hedge-tops. It fell in a million golden sparks on the +shivering leaves of the old oak. But it cleared the +deep-cut road at a bound, leaving it dark. Only a long +way further on, where the bend to the right began, +did his majesty deign to step down upon the road; +and just there, because everything was wet from last +night's rain, it was a road of silver.</p> + +<p class="indent">No sooner, however, was the picture focussed than +the sun, which made it what it was, disappeared behind +a cloud—a favourite and mischievous dodge of his for +the mortification of the amateur photographer.</p> + +<p class="indent">Now, while Pinckney waited for the sun to come +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 246]</span> +out again, which he saw was going to happen immediately, +and while he held in his fingers the pneumatic +ball connected with the instantaneous shutter, two +figures appeared at the bend of the road that had been +silver track a moment before. They were a man and +a woman, trudging along with the width of the road +between them. Pinckney watched them with painful +interest. If the cloud cleared the sun at that moment +they would be horribly in the way, for worse clouds +were following on the heels of this one, and the opportunity +must be seized. There was nothing, of course, +to prevent his taking the tramps as they walked—no, +it would spoil the picture. Stay, though; it would add +human interest. But the cloud did not pass so rapidly +after all, and the man and woman drew near the +camera.</p> + +<p class="indent">There was something peculiar in the appearance of +the man that struck Pinckney at once as un-English. +This peculiarity was difficult to localise. It was not +in his clothes, which indeed looked new, but it was +partly in his heavy face, smooth-shaven and suntanned, +partly in his slow, slouching, methodical walk, +and very much in his fashion of carrying his belongings. +Instead of the pudding-like bundle of the English +tramp he carried across his shoulders a long, +neatly-strapped cylinder, the outer coating of which +was a blanket. About the woman, on the other hand, +there was nothing to strike the attention. Pinckney's +first glance took in, perhaps, the fact that her black +skirt was torn and draggled, and her black bodice in +startling contrast to her white face; but that could have +been all.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 247]</span> +Back came the sun, in a hurry, to the hedge-top +and the oak-tree, and the distant curve of the road. +Pinckney had decided in favour of the tramps in his +picture, but they were come too near. He requested +them in his blandest tones to retrace a few steps. To +his immense surprise he was interrupted by a sullen +oath from the man, who at once quickened his steps +forward, motioning to the woman to do the same.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Thankee for nothing, and be hanged to you! Wait +till we pass, will you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">If Pinckney had wanted further assurance that the +man was a foreign element, these sentences should +have satisfied him; for your honest British rustic is +not the man to reject the favours of the camera, be they +never so promiscuous and his chance of beholding the +result never so remote.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pinckney's answer, however, was a prompt pressure +of the pneumatic ball in his hand—a snap-shot +at short range, the click of which did not escape the +sharp ears of the strange-looking, heavily-built old +man.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Have you took us?" asked he fiercely.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh no," replied the photographer, without a blush, +"I'm waiting till you pass; look sharp, or I'll lose the +sun again!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The man scowled, but said no more. Next moment +he passed by on one side of the camera, and the woman +on the other. Pinckney looked swiftly from one to +the other, and marked well the face of each. That of +the man repelled him, as bull-dog jaws upon a thick, +short neck and small, cruel-looking glittering eyes +would repel most of us, even without this man's vile +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 248]</span> +expression. The man was tall and broad, but bent, +and he looked twenty years older at close quarters than +at a distance. The woman, on the other hand, was +young, but so worn, and pinched, and soured, and +wearied that you had to look closely to find a trace of +youth. She never raised her eyes from the ground as +she walked; but Pinckney made sure they were dark +eyes, for the well-formed eyebrows were blue-black, +like a raven's feather. Her wrist-bone showed prominently—seeming +to be covered by little more than +skin—as she caught together the shawl at her bosom +with her left hand; a plain gold hoop was on its third +finger.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pinckney watched the pair out of sight, still walking +with the whole road between them.</p> + +<p class="indent">"That brute," muttered Pinckney, "beats his +wife!"</p> + +<p class="indent">And then he exposed another plate from the same +position, packed up the apparatus, and went his +way.</p> + +<p class="indent">Some hours later—towards evening, in fact—as +Pinckney returned from his ruined abbey and came +in sight of Gateby, the rain—which had gathered +during the afternoon—came down from the leaden +twilit sky in earnest. It rains violently in the dales; +and the photographer, hungry though he was, and +more than ready for dinner, saw no reason for getting +wet to the skin when the village was within a stone's-throw, +and the shooting-box half-a-mile further on. +He burst into the inn for shelter; and honest Robert +Rutter conducted him to the private parlour with peculiar +satisfaction, having been intimate with Gateby +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 249]</span> +rain many years, and knowing also a thing or two +about the appetites of gentlemen from the south.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pinckney, left alone, examined the room. It was +gaudily carpeted, uncomfortably furnished, stuffy for +want of use and air, and crowded with gimcracks. +Foxes and birds, in huge cases, were perilously balanced +on absurd little tables. The walls were covered +with inflamed-looking prints, the place of honour +being occupied by portraits of mine host and hostess +unrecognisable. The large square centre-table was +laid out in parterres of books never opened. In fact, +the parlour was not what you would have expected of +the remote dales. For this very reason, perhaps, that +realist Pinckney took particular pains over the description +which was promptly set down in his note-book. +The landlord coming in during the writing, moreover, +the poor man's words were taken out of his mouth and +set down red-hot, and on the phonetic principle, in a +parenthesis.</p> + +<p class="indent">This visit of Rutter's resulted subsequently in a +heavy supper of ham and eggs and beer, and a fire +in the parlour, before which Pinckney contentedly +smoked, listening to the rain, which was coming down +indeed in torrents.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was while this easy-going youth was in the most +comfortable post-prandial condition that the voices in +a room, separated from the parlour only by a narrow +passage, grew loud enough to be distinctly audible in +it. Up to this point the conversation had been low +and indistinct, occasional laughter alone rising above +an undertone; now the laughter was frequent and +hearty. The reasons were that the room in question +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 250]</span> +was the tap-room, and the fourth round of beer was +already imbibed. One voice—in which the local accents +were missed—led the talk; the rest interjaculated.</p> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Pinckney pricked up his ears, and of course +whipped out the insatiable note-book. Simultaneously, +in the kitchen, connected with the tap-room on +the opposite side, the landlord and his wife, with the +schoolmaster and his, were bending forward, and solemnly +listening to the stranger's wild stories, with the +door ajar. Thus the glib-tongued personage had more +listeners, and more sober listeners, than he was aware +of.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Sharks?" he was saying. "Seen sharks? You +bet I have! Why, when I was or'nary seaman—betwixt +Noocastle, Noo South Wales and 'Frisco it was; +with coals—we counted twenty-seven of 'em around +the ship the morning we was becalmed in three south. +And that afternoon young Billy Bunting—the darling +of our crew he was—he fell overboard, and was took. +Took, my lads, I say! Nothin' left on'y a patch of red +in the blue water and a whole set of metal buttons when +we landed Mister John Shark next morning." (Sensation.) +"And that's gospel. But the next shark +as we got—and we was becalmed three weeks that go—the +skipper he strung him up to the spanker-boom, +an' shot his blessed eyes out with a revolver; 'cause +little Billy had been pet of the ship, d'ye see? And +then we let him back into the briny; and a young devil +of an apprentice dived over and swam rings round +him, 'cause he couldn't see; and it was the best game +o' blindman's buff ever you seed in your born days." +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 251]</span> +(Merriment.) "What! Have ye never heard tell +o' the shark in Corio Bay, an' what he done? Oh, but +I'll spin that yarn."</p> + +<p class="indent">And spin it he did; though before he had got far +the landlady exchanged glances with the schoolmaster's +lady, and both good women evinced premonitory +symptoms of sickness, so that the worthy +schoolmaster hastily took "his missis" home, and +hurried back himself to hear the end.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A sailor," said Pinckney, listening in the parlour; +"and even at that an admirable liar."</p> + +<p class="indent">He went out into the passage, and peeped through +the chink of the door into the tap-room. In the middle +of the long and narrow table, on which the dominoes +for once lay idle, stood one solitary tallow candle, and +all around were the shadowy forms of rustics in various +attitudes of breathless attention—it was a snake-story +they were listening to now; and the face of the narrator, +thrust forward close to the sputtering wick, was +the smooth, heavy, flexible face of the man whom +Pinckney had photographed unawares on the road.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pinckney went softly back to the parlour, whistling +a low note of surprise.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No wonder I didn't recognise the voice! That +voice is put on. The surly growl he gave me this +morning in his natural tone. He's making up to the +natives; or else the fellow's less of a brute when he's +drunk, and if that's so, some philanthropist ought to +keep him drunk for his natural life. The terms might +be mutual. 'I keep you in drink, in return for which +you conduct yourself like a Christian,—though an +intoxicated one, to me and all men.'"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 252]</span> +"Who is that customer?" Pinckney asked of Bob +Rutter, as they settled up outside on the shining flags—shining +in the starlight; for the heavy rain had suddenly +stopped, and the sky as suddenly cleared, and +the stars shone out, and a drip, drip, drip fell upon +the ear from all around, and at each breath the nostril +drew in a fragrance sweeter than flowers.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He's a sailor," said honest Rutter; "that's all I +know; I don't ask no questions. He says his last voyage +was to—Australia, I think they call it—and back."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I saw he was a sailor," said Pinckney.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He asked," continued Rutter, "if there was anybody +from them parts hereabout; and I said not as I +knowed on, till I remembered waddycallum, your crack +shot, up there, and tould him; and he seemed pleased."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Has he nobody with him?" asked Pinckney, remembering +the wan-faced woman.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes—a wife or sumthink."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where is she?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"In t'blacksmith's shed."</p> + +<p class="indent">Rutter pointed to a low shed that might have been +a cow-house, but in point of fact contained a forge +and some broken ploughshares.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Landlord," said Pinckney, severely, "you ought +to turn that low blackguard out, and not take another +farthing of his money until he finds the woman a fit +place to sleep in!"</p> + +<p class="indent">And with that young Pinckney splashed indignantly +out into the darkness, and along the watery road to +the shooting-box. There he found everyone on the +point of going to bed. He was obliged, for that night, +to keep to himself the details of his adventures; but, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 253]</span> +long after the rest of the premises were in darkness, +a ruby-coloured light burned in Mr. Pinckney's room; +he had actually the energy to turn his dry-plates into +finished negatives before getting into bed, though he +had tramped sixteen miles with accoutrements! Not +only that, but he got up early, and had obtained a sun-print +of each negative before going over to breakfast. +His impatience came of his newness to photography; +it has probably been experienced by every beginner +in this most fascinating of crafts.</p> + +<p class="indent">These prints he stowed carefully in his pocket, +closely buttoning his coat to shield them from the +light. At breakfast he produced them one by one, +and handed them round the table on the strict understanding +that each person should glance at each print +for one second only. They were in their raw and +perishable state; but a few seconds' exposure to the +light of the room, said the perpetrator, would not affect +them. In truth, no one wished to look at them longer; +they were poor productions: the light had got in here, +the focus was wrong in that one. But Mr. Pinckney +knew their faults, and he produced the last print, and +the best, with the more satisfaction.</p> + +<p class="indent">"This one," said he, "will astonish you. It's a success, +though I say it. Moreover, it's the one I most +wanted to come out well—a couple of tramps taken +unawares. This print you must look at only half-a-second +each."</p> + +<p class="indent">He handed it to Alice, who pronounced it a triumph—as +it was—and glanced curiously at the downcast +face of the woman in the foreground. She handed it +to the doctor, sitting next her. The doctor put the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 254]</span> +print in his uncle's hand, at the head of the table. +The Colonel's comment was good-natured. He held +out the print to Miles, who took it carelessly from him, +and leant back in his chair.</p> + +<p class="indent">Now as Miles leant back, the sunlight fell full upon +him. It streamed through a narrow slit of a window at +the end of the room—the big windows faced southwest—and +its rays just missed the curve of table-cloth +between the Colonel and Miles. But on Miles the +rays fell: on his curly light-brown hair, clear dark +skin, blond beard and moustache; and his blue eyes +twinkled pleasantly under their touch. As he idly +raised the print, leaning back in the loose rough jacket +that became him so well, the others there had never +seen him more handsome, tranquil, and unconcerned.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles raised the print with slow indifference, glanced +at it, jerked it suddenly upward, and held it with both +hands close before his eyes. They could not see his +face. But the sunlight fell upon the print, and Pinckney +cried out an excited protest:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Look out, I say! Hold it out of the sun, please! +Give it here, you'll spoil the print!"</p> + +<p class="indent">But Miles did not heed, even if he heard. The +square of paper was quivering, though held by two +great strong hands. All that they could see of Miles's +face behind it was the brow: it was deeply scored across +and across—it was pale as ashes.</p> + +<p class="indent">A minute passed; then the print was slowly dropped +upon the table. No print now: only a sheet of glossy +reddish-brown paper.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles burst into a low, harsh laugh.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A good likeness!" he said slowly. "But it has +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 255]</span> +vanished, clean gone, and, I fear, through my fault. +Forgive me, Pinckney, I didn't understand you. +I thought the thing was finished. I know nothing +about such things—I'm an ignorant bushman"—with +a ghastly smile—"but I thought—I couldn't help +thinking, when it vanished like that—that it was all a +hoax!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He pushed back his chair, and stalked to the door. +No one spoke—no one knew what to say—one and +all, they were mystified. On the threshold Miles +turned, and looked pleadingly towards the Colonel and +Alice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Pray forgive me, I am covered with shame; but—but +it was strangely like some one—some one long +dead," said Miles, hoarsely—and slowly, with the +exception of the last four words, which were low and +hurried. And with that he went from the room, and +cannoned in the passage against Dick Edmonstone, +who was late for breakfast.</p> + +<p class="indent">That day, the champion from Australia shot execrably, +which was inexplicable; and he kept for ever +casting sudden glances over his shoulders, and on all +sides of him, which was absurd.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 256]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2> + +<p class="h2a">THE EFFECT OF A SONG</p> + +<p class="indent">Late that afternoon, in Robert Rutter's meadow +at the back of the inn, a man and a woman stood in +close conversation. The man was Jem Pound, the +woman Elizabeth Ryan.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then you have not seen him yet?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, not yet; I have had no chance."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You mean that you have been drunk, Jem +Pound!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not to say drunk, missis. But I've been over to +a town called Melmerbridge, and I went a long way +round so as not to cross the moor. They're shooting +up there all day. It'd be no sort o' use tackling him +there."</p> + +<p class="indent">"But surely they are back by now?" exclaimed +Mrs. Ryan, impatiently. "I tell you he must be seen +to-day—this evening—now."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ay, ay; I'm just going. Straight along this path +it is, across a few fields, and there you are—opposite +the house; and you may trust me——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I know; I have seen it for myself. But I am +going too."</p> + +<p class="indent">This was precisely what Pound did not want. He +was treating the woman with unwonted civility, not +to say respect, with a view to the more easily dissuading +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 257]</span> +her from dangerous projects. And this was +a dangerous project from Pound's point of view; but +Mrs. Ryan had set her soul upon it. Argue as Jem +would, she was bent upon seeing her husband with +her own eyes, and at once. And there, with that thin +white face of hers she might go and get him actually +to pity her, and spoil everything—for Jem Pound.</p> + +<p class="indent">"After finding him again, do you think I will endure +this a moment longer?" asked Elizabeth scornfully.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pound's reply was in the reflective manner.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well," said he, with slow deliberation, "I'm not +sure but what it mightn't, after all, do good for you +to see him."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Good—do good! To whom? What do you mean? +What have you to do with it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Pound ground his teeth; he had everything to do +with it. It was the old story over again: this woman +was using him as the guide to her own ends, yet would +cut him adrift the very moment those ends were in +sight. How he hated her! With his lips he cringed +to her, in his heart he ground her to powder; but if +he was not in the position to bully her to-day, he had +lost few opportunities when he was; and he was at +least forearmed against her.</p> + +<p class="indent">He affected a bluff kindliness of manner that would +not have deceived her had Mrs. Ryan been a little +more composed.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Look here, missis, you and me, we've been bound +up in a ticklish job together. I don't say as I've always +done by you as I should, but there is allowances to +be made for a man that carries, as they say, his life +in his hand, and that's staked his life on this here job. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 258]</span> +I don't say, either, as we're both on the exact same +tack, but one thing's certain; we must work together +now, and if you can't work my way, why, I must work +yours. Now, missis, you ain't fit for the strain of +seeing him. If you could see your own face you'd +know it, ma'am."</p> + +<p class="indent">Her eyes had opened wide at his tone; she sighed +deeply at his last words.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No," she said sadly, "I know I'm not fit for much. +But I must go—I must go."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then if you must, ma'am, take a teaspoonful of +this first. It'll help you through, and anyway keep +you from fainting, as you did last time. I got it in +Melmerbridge this afternoon, after I see you look so +sick."</p> + +<p class="indent">He uncorked a small flask and held it to her lips.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What is it?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Brandy—the best."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And water?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Half and half. Remember that other night!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"He is right," muttered the woman: "there must +be no fainting this time."</p> + +<p class="indent">She sipped from the bottle and felt revived.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Now we will go," she said, sternly.</p> + +<p class="indent">They crossed the meadow, and so over the stile into +the potato-field that came next. Then Pound began +to lag behind and watch his companion. When they +reached the gate she was reeling; she clung to the +gate-post, and waited for him to come up.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You fiend!" she screamed, glaring impotently +upon him. "Poisoner and fiend! You have—you—"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 259]</span> +She fell senseless at his feet without finishing the +sentence. Pound surveyed the helpless heap of clothes +with complete satisfaction.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Drugged you, eh? Is that what you'd say? Nay, +hardly, my lass: p'r'aps the brandy was risky for a +fool of a woman that won't eat—p'r'aps it was very +near neat—p'r'aps there was more in it than that; +anyway you took it beautiful—lovely, you devil in +petticoats!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He raised her easily enough in his strong arms, +carried her through the gate into the next field, and +dropped her upon a late heap of hay some distance +from the track.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Playing at triangles," said Pound, "it must be +two to one, or all against all: one thing it sha'n't be—two +to one, and Jem Pound the one! There you +lie until you're wanted, my dear. So long to you!"</p> + +<p class="indent">And with that this wretch strolled off.</p> + +<p class="indent">The gap in the hedge dividing the last of these few +fields from the road, and ending the path, occurred a +few yards below the shooting-box. Pound crept along +the ditch between hedge and field until he judged he +was opposite the gate of the shooting-box. Then he +stood up, parted the hedge where it was thinnest, and +peered through. The room to the right of the porch +was lit up within; though the blinds were drawn, the +windows were wide open. Pound could hear a low +continuous murmur of voices and other sounds, which +informed him that the party were still dining. He +waited patiently. At last he heard a pushing back of +chairs: it must be over now, he thought; but no, the +voices recommenced, pitched in a slightly louder key. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 260]</span> +The windows on the left of the porch shone out as +brightly as their neighbours on the right of it. Light +fingers ran nimbly over the keys of a piano—only +once—no tune came of it.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pound, too, had fingers that could not long be idle: +thick, knotty, broad-nailed, supple-jointed; fingers +that showed the working of the mind. They were +busy now. In a little while all the hedge within their +reach was stripped of its simple charms—its bluebells, +its pink foxgloves, its very few wild roses. Even the +little leaves of the hedge were plucked away by the +handful; and on the grass, had it been lighter, you +might have discovered in the torn and mutilated shreds +of leaf and petal some index to the watcher's thoughts. +At last there was a general movement inside. Dark +forms appeared on the steps. Two or three came down +the steps, and turned the corner of the house. One +sauntered to the gate and peered up and down the +road. There was no mistaking this figure.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pound uttered in a low key a cry that is as common +in the Australian bush as it is uncommon elsewhere. +He expected his man to start as though shot, but he +was disappointed. Ryan gave one sharp glance +towards the hedge, then passed through the gate, and +on to the gap.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Lord! how he takes it!" murmured Pound. "Did +he expect me? Has he been on the look-out night and +day all this while?"</p> + +<p class="indent">At the gap they met. Pound could restrain his exultation +no longer.</p> + +<p class="indent">"At last!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," said the other, stepping quietly through the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 261]</span> +gap. He had given the whole day to preparation for +this interview; but he had expected it to be an interview +of three. Where was his wife? "Yes, and the +fewer words the better. How you got here I neither +know nor care; tell me what you want now that you +are here."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You know very well what I want."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I may make a rough guess."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I want money!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I thought so. It is a pity. You must go somewhere +else for it: I have none."</p> + +<p class="indent">"What!" cried Pound, savagely, "is it all gone? +All that you landed with? Never! You have never +got through all that!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"'All that' is under a gum-tree somewhere in +Queensland, unless some one has found it lately. I +told you so before, didn't I? How could I clear out +with the gold? How could I risk going back for it +when once I got away? All I brought with me was +what never left my body: the notes and some gold. +It didn't come to much; the last of it went long +since."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then how have you lived—what on?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"My wits."</p> + +<p class="indent">Jem Pound was in a towering passion.</p> + +<p class="indent">"If I believed you," he hissed out, among his oaths, +"I'd make a clean breast of everything—every blessed +job—though I swung for it! No; I'd swing merrily, +knowing they'd got you snug for the rest of your +days, for you'd be worse off than me, Ned Ryan! +But I don't believe a word of it; it's a lie—a lie—a +lie!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 262]</span> +The utterance was that of a choking man. Miles +wondered whether the man had the spirit to carry out +what he threatened; he seemed desperate, and such +confessions had been made before by desperate men. +That the five hundred ounces of gold had been abandoned +by Sundown in his flight was the simple truth. +Yet if Pound realised this, he was capable of any +lengths of vengeance—even to putting his own neck +in the noose, as he said. Better, perhaps, leave him +his delusion, and let him still think that the gold had +been brought over; better give a sop to Cerberus—even +though it were only a promise to-day and a few +pounds to-morrow; for the next day—well, the next +day Cerberus might growl in vain. But a fair round +sum for Pound, if only it could be raised and handed +over immediately, would raise high hopes of "the +share" he coveted; would make him believe that the +stronger man had given way at last; would pacify him +for the time being—which was all that was necessary. +For in two days Ned Ryan meant to fly from that place—in +three, the shores of England should fade from his +sight for ever. Pound must be put off his guard, like +the rest; a fair round sum might do it—say fifty +pounds. Fifty pounds, then, must be raised that +night.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Jem Pound," said Sundown, in tones of capitulation, +"there is no getting over you! I throw up my +hand, for the game's up. I thought I could get the +best of you, Jem, but, Lord! I didn't know my man, +and that's the fact. But listen to sense: you don't +suppose I've got that money here, do you? It's in +London; you shall have five hundred of it in hard cash, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 263]</span> +if you swear to stand by me, next week. I go up next +week; you go before me and wait. You refuse? Stay, +then; hear me out: you shall have fifty down, on this +very spot, at this very hour, to-morrow night!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you mean it?" asked Pound, suspiciously, his +breath coming quick and rapid with the excitement of +the moment—his moment of victory.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Every word of it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Fifty pounds—to-morrow night?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Every penny of it. Oh, there's no use in disguising +it; you've got the better of me, Jem, and I must +stump up."</p> + +<p class="indent">Pound looked at him doubtfully, wishing to believe, +yet finding it difficult.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You gave us the slip before," he said; "how do +we know you won't do it again?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Watch me—watch me," he said.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ay, we must and we will!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You need not remind me of—of her!" cried Ryan, +fiercely, all in a moment.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah, poor thing, poor thing!" said Pound.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, has anything happened?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Poor soul!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Speak, man, for God's sake! Is she—is she—"</p> + +<p class="indent">Ryan could not get out the word, trembling as he +was with intense excitement. Pound broke into a +brutal laugh.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, Ned Ryan, she isn't dead, if that's what you +want. I am sorry for you. Now that you're going +to behave handsome, I should have liked to bring you +good news. Yet, though she hangs on still, she's +going down the hill pretty quick—her own way. But +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 264]</span> +she's waiting for us three fields off; we'd better go to +her before she comes to us. Come this way."</p> + +<p class="indent">Pound led the way to the hay-field. Miles followed +him, filled with foreboding. What had happened to +Elizabeth? Was the woman ill? Was she dying? Bad +as he was—bad as she was—could he go coldly on his +way and let her die? He thought of her as he had +seen her last, two months ago; and then strangely +enough, he figured her as he had first seen her, many, +many years ago. Poor thing! poor Liz!</p> + +<p class="indent">"She is not here," said Pound, when he came to the +gate that Elizabeth Ryan had clung to. "Now I +wonder—stay! what is that over there? Come, let's +look. It may be—by Heaven, it is your wife!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He had pointed to a dark object among the mounds +of hay. Now the two men stood looking down on the +insensible form of Elizabeth Ryan.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, not death," said Pound; "only brandy!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The husband looked down upon his wretched wife +without speaking or moving. Oh, that it were death! +His muscles were rigid—repugnance and loathing +froze him to the bone. How white her face was in the +faint moonshine! how white that hand under the white +cheek! and the other hand stretched helplessly out—good +God! the wedding-ring he had placed there, she +dared to wear it still! Oh, that this were death!</p> + +<p class="indent">And a minute ago he had thought of her—for some +seconds together—not unkindly!</p> + +<p class="indent">At last Ryan spoke.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I dare swear," he murmured, as though speaking +to himself, "that she has not got our certificate! A +ring is no proof."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 265]</span> +Pound knelt down and shook some sense into the +woman's head.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Eh? What is it? Where am I?"</p> + +<p class="indent">He whispered hurriedly in her ear: "He is here—your +husband. He says something about your having +no proof that you are his wife. Give me the certificate!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Without grasping the meaning of any but the +last word, Elizabeth Ryan mechanically drew forth +from her bosom a folded square of paper. Pound +took it from her, and unfolded it with his back +to Ryan. When he faced about, Pound held the +certificate in his left hand and a revolver in his +right.</p> + +<p class="indent">Ryan paid no heed to the pistol, beyond recognising +it as one of his own—the fellow, in fact, to the one he +at that moment carried in his own pocket; Pound's +last transaction, as a member of Sundown's gang, +having been to help himself to this and other trifles +as keepsakes. The production of the weapon Ryan +treated, or affected to treat, with contempt. The certificate +took up his whole attention. Yet one glance, +even in the moonlight, was sufficient to show him that +the certificate was genuine.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You may put them both away," was all he said. +"But remember: to-morrow night, same spot and +hour. Or let us say here, at this gate: it is farther +from the house."</p> + +<p class="indent">He turned to go, but suddenly recoiled, being face +to face with his wife, who had struggled to her feet. +With a strange wild cry the woman flung herself into +his arms. Ryan caught her, held her one instant, then +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 266]</span> +dashed her heavily to the ground, and fled like a murderer +from the place.</p> + +<p class="indent">The poor thing lay groaning, yet sobered.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah, I remember," she moaned at last, gathering +up her bruised and aching limbs. "I was drugged—by +you!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The look of terrible hatred which she darted at Jem +Pound was ineffable but calm. He answered her with +a stout denial:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I gave you nothing but brandy, and that I gave +you for the best. I didn't mean it to knock you over, +but I'm not sorry it did. Bad as it was, it would have +been worse if you had seen much more of him."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why? What did he say?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"He said he wouldn't give us a farthing. No, not +if you were starving. He said you were less than +nothing to him now. He said we might do our worst, +and the sooner hell swallowed both of us the better +he'd like it."</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Ryan gave a little cry of pain and anger. She +staggered across the dewy grass, and confronted +Pound at arm's length. She was shaking and shivering +like a withered leaf.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Jem Pound," said she, "I will tell you what I have +known for many weeks, but hidden from you. I will +tell you where he has that money, or some of it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where?" cried Pound.</p> + +<p class="indent">She tapped him lightly on the chest.</p> + +<p class="indent">"There!" said Mrs. Ryan.</p> + +<p class="indent">"How the devil do you know?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"By woman's wit. On that night, when my hand +rested there on his breast for one moment, he pushed +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 267]</span> +me from him. I remembered afterwards that he started +from my hand as though I touched a wound. I did +the same thing to-night, only on purpose, and you +know how he took it: he flung me to the ground this +time. Mark my words, there is that which he values +more than anything else hung round his neck and +resting there! Whatever it is, take it, Jem Pound! +Do you hear? You are bad enough for anything: +then take it—even if you have to take his life with +it!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Her voice was hoarse and horrible, yet so low that +it could scarcely be heard. Without waiting for an +answer, she turned swiftly away and disappeared in the +darkness.</p> + +<p class="indent">Jem Pound drew a long deep breath.</p> + +<p class="indent">"This," said he, "is the best night's work I've done +since I came back to the Old Country. This morning +I didn't dream of anything so good. Now I see a better +night's work not far ahead!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He proceeded to carve a cake of black tobacco +slowly and deliberately, then filled his pipe. As he did +this, leaning with his broad back against the gate, a +sound came to his ears across the silent sleeping +meadows—a strange sound to him—the sound, in fact, +of a woman's song. His pipe was by this time loaded, +and the mouthpiece between his teeth. Moreover, the +match-box was in his left hand and a match in his right. +Yet Jem Pound actually did not strike that match until +the strange sound had died away!</p> + +<p class="indent">I know not what spirit was abroad that night to +invest a simple, well-known drawing-room song with +the sinews of Fate; yet not only in the fields, but far +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 268]</span> +up the road, where Colonel Bristo was wandering alone +in the faint light of the sickle moon, the low clear notes +were borne out on the wings of the evening. The +Colonel faced about at the first note, and walked back +quite quickly. His solitary wanderings at all times of +the day were a great weakness of the old fellow, but +his daughter's singing was a greater; and she sang so +seldom now. He walked on the wet grass at the roadside +rather than lose a note through the noise of his +own footsteps; and lo! when he came near the house, +he descried a tall figure standing motionless in the very +middle of the road.</p> + +<p class="indent">Surely some spirit was abroad that night, that all the +waking world drew near and listened to that song of +Alice's! It should have been a greater song—noble +poetry wedded to music such as the angels make in +heaven and have sometimes—in golden ages gone by—breathed +into the souls of men, who have found the +secret too wondrous sweet and terrible to keep. To +touch the sensibilities of the different unknown listeners, +it should have been a mighty song indeed! But, +you see, Alice herself knew nothing of what was happening; +she was aware of only one listener, who was +humbly standing by her side; and out of the pitiful +fulness of her heart she sang the sad and simple words +that you have heard often enough, no doubt:</p> + +<p class="margin-left8">Falling leaf and fading tree,<br /> +Lines of white in a sullen sea,<br /> +Shadows rising on you and me;<br /> +The swallows are making them ready to fly,<br /> +Wheeling out on a windy sky.<br /> +Good-bye, summer! good-bye, good-bye!</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 269]</span> +A thin film floated over the eyes of Colonel Bristo. +The same thing had occasionally happened before when +his daughter sang. But lately she had been singing so +little, and the song was so sad, and the voice more +plaintive than it had ever been formerly.</p> + +<p class="indent">As for Miles, the other listener in the road, he stood +like one entranced. Her singing had haunted his soul +now many weeks; it was many weeks since he had +heard it last—save in his dreams; besides, the words +put the match to a desperate train of thought.</p> + +<p class="indent">The last bars of the song, then, came as a shock to +the audience of two outside in the road, who had not +realised that the song would ever stop:</p> + +<p class="margin-left8">"What are we waiting for, you and I?"<br /> +A pleading look, a stifled cry;<br /> +"Good-bye for ever! good-bye, good-bye!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The last notes of all were low, and the singer's best. +They were charged with wild grief; they seemed to end +in a half-sob of anguish. But the voice had caught all +the passion of the words, and something more besides. +For whom was this passion?</p> + +<p class="indent">It all died away. The world outside was tamer than +before; the sickle moon dipped down to rest below the +hill beyond the village, and those lanes and meadows +knew no such singing any more.</p> + +<p class="indent">The tall listener in the road still gazed at the holland +blind that flapped against the sash of the open window. +It was all the sound that came from the room now. +He was repeating the last words of the song, and +weighing them.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, no," he was thinking, "if I may not live for +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 270]</span> +her, what else is there to live for? God, let me die +for her!"</p> + +<p class="indent">A glowing red spot approached him through the +darkness that had fallen upon the land; it was the +Colonel's cigarette. It brought him back to the world +as it was—his world, and a vile one.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I was taking a little stroll," said Colonel Bristo. +"Will you join me? I think Alice will sing no more +to-night."</p> + +<p class="indent">Meanwhile, in the room, the singer had risen. She +meant to quietly put away the music, but it slipped +from her fingers. She turned with wet gentle eyes to +one who was speaking to her, then fled at his words +from the room.</p> + +<p class="indent">Yet Dick had only asked her: "Will you never, +never forgive me?"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 271]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>XXV</h2> + +<p class="h2a">MELMERBRIDGE CHURCH</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was in the passage, brushing a week's dust +from his hard felt hat; he was going to church this +Sunday morning; half the party were going. From the +gun-room came the sound of a pen gliding swiftly over +foolscap, and the perfume of Mr. Pinckney's pipe; from +the open air a low conversational murmur, kept up by +Mrs. Parish and Mr. Miles on the steps. Dick, though +not unconscious of these sounds, was listening for +another—a certain footstep on the stairs. It came at +last. Alice came slowly down; Alice, prayer-book in +hand, in the daintiest of white dresses and the prettiest, +simplest straw hat; Alice for whom Mrs. Parish and +Miles and Dick were all three waiting.</p> + +<p class="indent">Her step was less light than it should have been. +The slim little figure positively drooped. Her eyes, +too, seemed large and bright, and dark beyond nature, +though that may have been partly from the contrast +with a face so pale. The girl's altered looks had caused +anxiety at Teddington, but the change to Yorkshire +had not visibly improved them. This morning, after +a night made even more restless than others by a sudden +influx of hopes and fears, this was painfully +apparent.</p> + +<p class="indent">The Colonel, coming in from outside at this moment, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 272]</span> +gazed earnestly at his daughter. It was easily seen +that he was already worried about something; but +the annoyance in his expression changed quickly +to pain.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are not going to walk to Melmerbridge +Church?" he said to her.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, yes, I am," she answered.</p> + +<p class="indent">Her tone and look were saucy, in spite of her pallor; +one of the old smiles flickered for a moment upon her +lips.</p> + +<p class="indent">"My child," said her father, more in surprise than +disapproval, "it is eight miles there and back!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"With a nice long rest in between," Alice reminded +him. "I thought it would do one good, the walk; +otherwise, papa, I am not in the least eager; so if you +think——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Go, my dear, of course—go, by all means," put in +Colonel Bristo hastily; "unwonted energy like this +must on no account be discouraged. Yes, yes, you +are quite right; it will do you all the good in the +world."</p> + +<p class="indent">As he spoke, he caught sight of Miles in the strong +light outside the door. The worried look returned to +the Colonel's eyes. Anxiety for his daughter seemed +to fade before a feeling that for the time was uppermost. +He watched his daughter cross over to the +door, and Dick put on his hat to follow her. Then +the Colonel stepped forward and plucked the young +man by the arm.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dick, I want you to stop at home with me. I want +to speak with you particularly, about something very +important indeed."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 273]</span> +Dick experienced a slight shock of disappointment, +succeeded by a sense of foreboding. He fell back at +once, and replaced his hat on the stand.</p> + +<p class="indent">As for Alice, she felt a sudden inclination to draw +back, herself. But that was not to be thought of. Mrs. +Parish and Mr. Miles were waiting now at the gate. +Alice went out and told them that Dick was, after all, +staying behind with the Colonel.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Not coming?" cried Mrs. Parish. "Why, I had +promised myself a long chat with him!" which, as it +happened, though Dick was no favourite of hers, was +strictly true. "Where is Mr. Pinckney?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Busy writing to catch the post."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And Dr. Robson?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Cousin Philip has gone to read the lessons for the +Gateby schoolmaster, his new friend. Had we not +better start?"</p> + +<p class="indent">The three set out, walking slowly up the road, for +Mrs. Parish was a really old lady, and it was only the +truly marvellous proportion of sinew and bone in her +composition, combined with a romantic and well-nigh +fanatical desire to serve the most charming of men, +that fortified her to attempt so formidable a walk.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You men are blind," she had told her idol, among +other things on the steps. "Where a word would end +all, you will not speak."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You honestly think it would end it the right way?" +Miles had asked her.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I do not think, I know," the old woman had said +for the fiftieth time.</p> + +<p class="indent">She had undertaken to give him his opportunity that +morning. With four in the party, that would have been<span class="pagenum">[Pg 274]</span> +easy enough; with three, it became a problem soluble +only by great ingenuity.</p> + +<p class="indent">For some distance beyond the shooting-box the road +ascended gently, then dipped deep down into a hollow, +with a beck at the bottom of it, and a bridge and a +farmhouse on the other side. The hill beyond was +really steep, and from its crest the shooting-box—with +red-roofed Gateby beyond and to the left of it—could +be seen for the last time. But when they had toiled +to the top of this second hill, Mrs. Parish with the +kindly assistance of the attentive Miles, it occurred to +none of them to look round, or they might have made +out the Colonel and Dick still standing on the steps, and +the arm of the former raised and pointed towards them.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is about that man there," the Colonel was saying, +"that I want to speak to you."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick could scarcely suppress an exclamation. He +changed colour. His face filled with apprehension. +What was coming next? What was suspected? What +discovered? Until these words the Colonel had not +spoken since the church-goers left, and his manner was +strange.</p> + +<p class="indent">The Colonel, however, was scrutinising the young +man.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What rivals they are!" he was thinking. "The +one starts at the mere name of the other! The fact is, +Dick," he said aloud, "Miles has dealt with me rather +queerly in some money matters, and—What on +earth's the matter?"</p> + +<p class="indent">The strong young fellow at Colonel Bristo's side was +trembling like a child; his face was livid, his words low +and hurried.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 275]</span> +"I will tell you in a moment, sir. Pray go on, +Colonel Bristo."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, the fact is I want you to tell me if you know +anything—of your own knowledge, mind—of this +station of Miles's in Queensland."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Excuse me: I can only answer by another question. +Has he been raising money on his station?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you mean by borrowing from me?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, that is what I do mean."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well, then, he has. At Teddington—I don't mind +telling you, between ourselves—I lent him a hundred +pounds when a remittance he expected by the mail did +not come. After that I found out that he had an agent +in town all the while, and it then struck me as rather +odd that he should have borrowed of me, though even +then I did not think much of it. You see, the man +did me the greatest service one man can render another, +and I was only too glad of the opportunity to do him +a good turn of any sort. I can assure you, Dick, at +the time I would have made it a thousand—on the +spot—had he asked it. Besides, I have always liked +Miles, though a little less, I must confess, since he +came up here. But last night, as we were strolling +about together outside, he suddenly asked me for +another hundred; and the story with which he supported +his request was rambling, if not absurd. He +said that his partner evidently believed him to be on +his way out again, and therefore still omitted to send +him a remittance; that he was thus once more 'stuck +up' for cash; that he had quarrelled with his agent +(whom I suggested as the most satisfactory person to +apply to), and withdrawn the agency. Well, I have +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 276]</span> +written out the cheque, and given it him this morning. +His gratitude was profuse, and seemed genuine. All +I want you to tell me is this: Do you know anything +yourself of his station, his partner, or his agent?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick made his answer with a pale, set face, but in a +tone free alike from tremor or hesitancy:</p> + +<p class="indent">"The man has no station, no agent, no partner!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What?" cried out the Colonel. "What are you +saying? You must not make statements of this sort +unless you are sure beyond the shadow of a doubt. +I asked what you knew, not what you suspected."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And I am telling you only what I know."</p> + +<p class="indent">"That Miles is a common swindler?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"That his name is not Miles, to begin with."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then do you mean to say," the Colonel almost +shouted, "that you have known all this, and let me be +duped by the fellow before your eyes?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I never suspected what you have told me now," +said Dick warmly. "But it is true that I have known +for some weeks who and what this man is. I found +him out at Graysbrooke, and got rid of him for you +within a few hours. I was at fault not to give him in +charge. You have good cause to blame me—and I +sha'n't want for blame by and by!—but if you will +listen to me, I will tell you all—yes, all; for I have +protected a worse scoundrel than I thought: I owe +him not another moment's silence."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Come in here, then," said Colonel Bristo, sternly; +"for I confess that I cannot understand you."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="indent">Up hill and down dale was the walk to Melmerbridge; +but the ascents really were a shade longer and +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 277]</span> +steeper than the descents, and did not only seem so +to the ladies. For when at last they reached the long +grey stone wall at the edge of the moor, and passed +through the gate into the midst of brown heather, +dotted with heads of gay green bracken, they were +greeted by a breeze—gentle and even fitful, but inexpressibly +refreshing. Now below, in the deep lanes +between the hedge-rows, there had been no breeze at +all—for the morning was developing into hazy, sleepy, +stifling heat, and the sun was dim—and the flies had +been most pestilent. Accordingly they all drew breath +on the moor. Mr. Miles uncovered his head, and let +the feeble breeze make mild sport with his light brown +locks. Then he lit a cigarette. As for the ladies, they +sat down for a moment's rest; and, considering that +one of them was well on in years, and the other combating +with a sickness that was gradually tightening its +hold upon her, they were walking uncommonly well. +But conversation had flagged from the start, nor did +the magic air of the moorland quicken it.</p> + +<p class="indent">When they had threaded the soft, rutted track that +girdled the heather with a reddish-brown belt, when +they had climbed the very last knoll, they found themselves +on the extreme edge of that range of hills. Far +below them, to the right, stretched mile upon mile of +table-land, studded with villages and woods, divided +by the hedges into countless squares. No two neighbours, +among these squares, were filled in with the +same colour; some were brown, some yellow, and the +rest all shades of green. Far ahead, where the squares +were all lost and their colours merged in one dirty +neutral tint—far ahead—at the horizon, in fact—hung +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 278]</span> +a low, perpetual cloud, like a sombre pall of death. +And death indeed lay under it: death to green fields, +sweet flowers, and honest blue skies.</p> + +<p class="indent">They viewed all this from a spot where the road had +been carved round the rough brow of a russet cliff. +This spot was the loftiest as well as the ruggedest of +the whole walk. On the left the road was flanked by +the ragged wall of the cliff; on the right it was provided +with a low parapet, over which one might gaze forth +upon the wide table-land, or drop stones upon the tops +of the tallest fir-trees in the wood at the cliff's base.</p> + +<p class="indent">Old Mrs. Parish pointed to the long black cloud on +the horizon, and explained that it was formed almost +entirely of the smoke of blast-furnaces, and was the +constant canopy of a great town that they could not +see, because the town was hidden in perennial smoke. +More than this she might have said—about the mighty +metals that were disgorged from under their very feet—about +the rich men of yonder town (old Oliver, for +one), not forgetting the poor men, beggar-men, and +thieves—had the old lady not perceived that Miles was +gazing furtively at Alice, and Alice gazing thoughtfully +into space, and neither of them listening to a word.</p> + +<p class="indent">They walked on, and the descending road became +smoother, but tortuous; and trees arched over it, and +the view was hidden until they stood at the top of +straight, steep Melmerbridge Bank, and the good-sized +prosperous village lay stretched at their feet.</p> + +<p class="indent">One long row of houses and shops on the left; a +long straight silvery stream for the right-hand side of +the village street; a bridge across this stream, leading +to a church and a public-house that stood side by side, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 279]</span> +on apparently the best of terms, and without another +near neighbour on that side of the beck—such was +Melmerbridge from its bank-top.</p> + +<p class="indent">As they crossed a white wooden bridge at the foot +of the bank (for the beck curved and twisted, like other +becks, except where it did its duty by that straight +village street), a simple, modest Sabbath peal rang out +upon the sultry air.</p> + +<p class="indent">The old church was roomy, twilit, and consequently +cool. Strong light never found its way inside those +old stone walls, for the narrow windows were pictorial, +one and all. Dusk lingered in these aisles throughout +the longest days; upon them day broke last of all; they +met nightfall half-way.</p> + +<p class="indent">After a long, hot, tiring walk there could have been +no more grateful retreat than this church of All Saints +at Melmerbridge. The senses were lulled in the very +porch, nor were they rudely aroused when the quiet +peal had ended and the quiet service began. Everything +was subdued and inoffensive, even to the sermon: +a vigorous discourse from the dark oak pulpit would +have grated on the spirit, like loud voices in a death-chamber.</p> + +<p class="indent">As for Mrs. Parish, she was soon sleeping as soundly +and reverently as the oldest parishioner. Alice, on the +other hand, gave her whole mind to the service, and +her mind filled with peace. Her sweet clear voice +chimed in with every response (at which the parish +clerk, with the fine old crusted dialect, who enjoyed a +monopoly in the responses, snorted angrily and raised +his tones), while in the first hymn it rose so high and +clear that the young curate peered over his book +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 280]</span> +through the dusk, and afterwards lost his place in the +Litany through peering again.</p> + +<p class="indent">Miles, for his part, looked about him with a pardonable +curiosity. He thought that he might have been +christened in some church as an infant; he had certainly +been married in one as a comparatively respectable +blackleg—but that was not a pleasant thing to recall +to-day. He had since been once in a little iron Bush +chapel, on a professional visit with his merry men, the +object of which visit was attained with such complete +success that all Australia thrilled with indignation. In +London, the Bristos had insisted on taking him to St. +Paul's and the Abbey. This was the full extent of his +previous church-going. He was interested for a little +while in looking about him. His interest might have +lasted to the Benediction had there been less subjective +food for thought, or, perhaps, if he had been sitting +there alone.</p> + +<p class="indent">In the hush and the dusk of this strange place, and +the monotonous declamation of phrases that conveyed +no meaning to him, Miles set himself deliberately to +think. Wild and precarious as his whole life had been, +he felt its crisis to be within arm's length of him now at +last—he joined hands with it here in this peaceful +Yorkshire church. Even the past few years of infamy +and hourly risk contained no situation so pregnant with +fate as the present. He ran over in his mind the chain +of circumstances that had led up to this crisis.</p> + +<p class="indent">The train of thought took him back to Queensland, +where, with Nemesis holding him by the throat at last, +he had wrenched himself from her tightening grip, and +escaped. He had tumbled upon English soil with a +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 281]</span> +fair sum of money, a past dead and buried, a future of +some sort before him; by chance he had tumbled upon +his feet. Chance, and that genius in the water that +had crowned his escape by drowning him in the eyes of +the world, had combined at once, and helped him to +save an unknown gentleman's life. Mother-wit and +the laws of gratitude enabled him to dupe the man he +had rescued, become his close friend, live upon him, +draw upon him, extract with subtle cunning the last +farthing of salvage, and all the while he guessed—pretty +correctly—that his pursuers were arriving to +learn his death and take ship back to Australia.</p> + +<p class="indent">Thus far everything had worked out so prettily that +it seemed worth while turning thoroughly honest and +beginning this second life on entirely different lines +from the old one. Then he fell in love and believed +that his love was returned, a belief that was not fostered +by his own fancy unaided; now more than ever he +desired to improve on the past, and to forget all ties +and obligations belonging to the past. Edward Ryan +was dead; then Edward Ryan's wife was a widow; +Miles the Australian was a new unit in humanity; then +why should not Miles the Australian marry?</p> + +<p class="indent">Up to this point he could look back on every step +with intense satisfaction; but here his reflections took a +bitter turn. To go on calmly recoiling step after step, +beginning with the month of July, was impossible: he +tried it; but to remember that night in the park—to +remember subsequent weeks spent in scheming and +plotting, in rejecting plot after plot and scheme after +scheme, in slowly eating his heart out in the solitude +of a London lodging, in gradually losing all taste for +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 282]</span> +fresh enterprise and all nerve for carrying it out—to +remember all this was to pour vitriol on the spirit. He +would remember no more; he would shut the gate on +memory; he would annihilate thought; he would make +his mind a blank. Yet he was powerless to do any of +these things.</p> + +<p class="indent">In his helplessness he looked down on the white +figure at his side. The second hymn was being sung. +He had stood, and sat, and knelt or leant forward with +the rest, by mere mechanical impulse. He was even +holding the book which she held without knowing it. +When he realised this, his hand shook so much that +the hymn-book was almost jerked from his fingers. +At this she looked up, and caught his eyes bent down +upon her.</p> + +<p class="indent">Now Miles was at the end of the pew, next the wall, +and in shadow. Alice noticed nothing in his expression, +and went on singing without pause or break. But +either her face, as she raised it, came in direct line +with the skirt of some saint, in the window above +Miles, and the sun, or else the sun chose that moment +for a farewell gleam; in any case, the girl's pale face +was instantly flooded with a rich, warm, crimson glow. +Miles looked down, and this warm glow caught in his +heart like a tongue of live flame.</p> + +<p class="indent">The hymn was over; they sank down side by side: +she to listen to the sermon, no matter its calibre—he +to his thoughts, no matter their madness.</p> + +<p class="indent">What were his thoughts? Not reflections now. Not +hesitancy, his new unaccountable failing; not nervous +doubt, his new humiliating enemy. No, his thoughts +were of the old kind, but worse. He was contemplating +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 283]</span> +a crime. He was contemplating the worst crime +of his whole career. The plain English of his thoughts +was this:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I believe that she likes me. I see that she is, in the +catch phrase, 'pining.' I am told that it is for me. +Very good. If that is the case she will believe what +I tell her, and do what I ask her. I have some power +of persuasion. I am not without invention. I shall +represent to her all kinds of reasons for precipitancy +and secrecy—temporary secrecy. In a word, she shall +fly with me! Well, that is bad enough; but there my +badness ends. I will live without crime for her sake; +I will retrieve what I can of the past. Henceforth my +life is of her, with her—above all, it is for her. She +need never know how I have wronged her, therefore +she will not be wronged."</p> + +<p class="indent">He looked at the face beside him; it was white as +alabaster. Alice was straining her eyes towards some +object that filled them with sadness and sympathy. He +followed the direction of her gaze; and he saw an old, +old man—a man who would soon come to church for +the last time, and remain outside the walls, under the +grass—who was gazing with pathetic wistfulness at the +preacher, and, with wrinkled hand raised to the ear, +making the most and the best of every well-worn +epithet and perfunctory stock phrase. That was all. +Miles brought back his glance to the white profile at +his side, and found it changed in this instant of time: +the long eyelashes were studded with crystal tears!</p> + +<p class="indent">How sad she looked—how thin and ill! Would she +look like this afterwards? Would tears often fill her +eyes in the time to come?</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 284]</span> +Miles shut his eyes, and again exerted might and +main to blot out thought. But he could not do it; and +half his confidence was gone at the moment when he +most needed it all. He knew it, and shuddered. A +thought that had haunted him of late crossed his mind +for the hundredth time: he was an altered man not +only in pretence but in reality; his nerve and coolness +had deserted him!</p> + +<p class="indent">The sermon was over, and the congregation awake. +Miles stood up with the rest, and took between thumb +and finger his side of the little hymn book held out to +him. He heartily wished it all over. In his present +unfortunate state of mind another hymn was another +ordeal: her voice, when she sang, put such weak +thoughts into his head. Was he not a fool and a +madman to think at all of a woman who unmanned +him so? Nay, hush! The hymn was begun. She was +singing it with her whole heart, the little head thrown +backward, the little white face turned upward. She +was singing; he could hear nothing else. She was +singing; would she sing afterwards? She was singing +from the depths of her tired soul. Would she ever +sing like this again? Would he ever hear her voice +again. Hush! This might be the last time!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="indent">Colonel Bristo was back on the steps, gazing under +his thin, hollowed hand up the road. He looked +anxious, and indignant, and determined—but old and +careworn.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What a time they are!" said Dick, pointing to the +crest of the second hill, where the brown road met the +silver sky. Next moment he would have recalled his +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 285]</span> +words, for two figures, not three, stood out black +against the sky. They were only in sight for an instant, +but during that instant they were hand in hand!</p> + +<p class="indent">The two men on the steps waited without a word for +many minutes. Neither could bring himself to speak—perhaps +each hoped that the other had not seen +everything. Besides, one was the father of the girl, +and the other—her jilted lover. More than once the +father shivered, and his fingers twitched the whole +time. Simultaneously they both started in surprise; +for all at once Alice appeared over the brow of the +nearest hill, coming swiftly towards them—alone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Thank God!" murmured the Colonel, forgetting +Dick's presence. "He has asked her to marry him, +and she has refused. The villain!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then, if you are right," cried Dick with sudden +intensity, "a million times blacker villain he."</p> + +<p class="indent">"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Mean? I mean—but there is no need to tell you +now."</p> + +<p class="indent">"You may as well tell me everything."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then I mean that he is married already."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 286]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>XXVI</h2> + +<p class="h2a">AT BAY</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where is Mrs. Parish?" demanded Colonel Bristo, +the moment his daughter reached the gate. In spite +of a gallant effort to be calm before Alice, his voice +quivered.</p> + +<p class="indent">"The walk was too much for her." The girl's face +was flushed, and her tones faint. "She said she +couldn't walk back were it ever so. She spoke to +Mrs. Commyns—who was called here, you know—and +went to the Rectory. She wants us to send the pony-trap +if——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where is Mr. Miles?" Alice's father interrupted +her.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He is following."</p> + +<p class="indent">She passed quickly by them into the house. Her +face was full of trouble. Traces of tears were visible +under her eyes. They heard her hurrying upstairs. +Neither of them spoke a word. Dick had his back +turned; he was watching the road.</p> + +<p class="indent">The figure of Miles appeared on the nearest knoll. +He walked slowly down the bank, his head bent, his +eyes fixed upon the ground. Dick turned to Colonel +Bristo.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You had better leave me to speak to him," he said. +"I will settle with him on the spot."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 287]</span> +"It ought to come from me," said the Colonel +doubtfully; "and yet——"</p> + +<p class="indent">The old man paused. Dick looked at him with some +anxiety.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You had really better leave him to me, sir," he +repeated. "I am sorry to say I am used to treating +with him. There had better be no third party to our +last parley. And the fewer words the better, on Alice's +account; she need know nothing. Besides, I know +your intentions——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, yes; that for my part I will take no steps, not +even to get back my money; that he may go to-day +instead of to-morrow, and leave the country—we will +not stop him. Of course, he will be only too glad to +get off! Dick, I care nothing about the paltry pounds +he has got out of me; he is welcome to them; I do not +grudge him them, because of the service he did me—yet +if I saw him now, I feel that I should forget +to count that service. And you are right about Alice. +Speak quietly, and get rid of him quickly. I will not +see him unless I am obliged; at least, I will first hear +from the dining-room what he has to say to you."</p> + +<p class="indent">A moment later the Colonel was at his post in the +dining-room. His retreat from the steps, which was +really characteristic of the man, is open to misconstruction. +He feared nothing worse than an unpleasantness—a +disagreeable scene; and he avoided unpleasantnesses +and disagreeables systematically through +life. That was the man's weakness. Now if Dick had +led him to suppose that Miles would do anything but +take his congé philosophically and go, the Colonel +would have filled the breach bristling with war. But +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 288]</span> +from Dick's account of his previous relations with the +impostor, he expected that Miles would be sent to the +right-about with ease, and Colonel Bristo shrank from +doing this personally.</p> + +<p class="indent">The dining-room windows were wide open, but the +brown holland blinds were drawn. Colonel Bristo did +not raise them. He sat down to listen without looking. +Almost immediately he heard a sharp click from the +latch of the wicket-gate; then a louder click accompanied +by a thud of timbers. Whoever had opened +the gate had passed through and swung it to. The +next sound that Colonel Bristo heard was the quiet, +business-like voice of young Edmonstone:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Stop! I have a word for you from the Colonel. +Stop where you are! He does not want you to come +in."</p> + +<p class="indent">"What do you mean? What has happened?" +The tones were apathetic—those of a man who has +heard his doom already, to whom nothing else can +matter much.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He simply does not want you inside his house +again. He is sending your things down to the inn, +where he hopes you will stay until you leave the place +according to your plans. Ryan," added Edmonstone +in an altered manner, "you understand me by this time? +Then you may take my word for it that you are as +safe as you were yesterday; though you don't deserve +it. Only go at once."</p> + +<p class="indent">There was a pause. The Colonel fidgeted in his +chair.</p> + +<p class="indent">"So, my kind, generous, merciful friend could not +keep his word one day longer!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 289]</span> +Miles's voice was so completely changed that the +Colonel involuntarily grasped the blind-cord; for now +it was the voice of an insolent, polished villain.</p> + +<p class="indent">"If I had known before," Dick answered him coolly, +"what I have found out this morning, you might +have cried for quarter until you were hoarse."</p> + +<p class="indent">"May I ask what you have learnt this morning?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Your frauds on the man who befriended you."</p> + +<p class="indent">"My obligations to the man whose life I saved. +Your way of putting it is prejudiced. Of course you +gave him your version as to who I am?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"My version!" exclaimed Edmonstone scornfully. +"I told him that you and the bushranger Sundown +are one."</p> + +<p class="indent">Again Miles swiftly changed his key; but it was his +words that were startling now.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are mad!" he said, pityingly—"you are mad; +and I have known it for weeks. Your last words put +your delusion in a nutshell. You have not a proof to +bless yourself with. You are a madman on one point; +and here comes the man that knows it as well as I +do!"</p> + +<p class="indent">In a whirl of surprise and amazement, not knowing +for the moment whom or what to believe, the Colonel +pulled up the blind and leant through the window. The +Australian stood facing his accuser with an impudent +smile of triumph. For once he stood revealed as he +was—for once he looked every inch the finished +scoundrel. If the Colonel had wavered for an instant +before drawing up the blind, he wavered no more after +the first glimpse of the Australian's face. He settled +in his mind at that instant which was the liar of those +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 290]</span> +two men. Yet something fascinated him. He was +compelled to listen.</p> + +<p class="indent">Robson was coming in at the gate.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are the very man we want," laughed Miles, +turning towards him. "Now pull yourself together, +Doctor. Do you call our friend, Mr. Edmonstone here, +sane or not?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You said that he was not," said Robson, looking +from Edmonstone to Miles.</p> + +<p class="indent">"And you agreed with me?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I said I thought——"</p> + +<p class="indent">"You said you thought! Well, never mind; I call +him sane—practically; only under a delusion. But +we will test him. You charge me with being a certain +Australian bushranger, Mr. Edmonstone. Of course +you have some evidence?"</p> + +<p class="indent">An awkward sensation came over Dick: a consciousness +that he had committed a mistake, and a mistake +that was giving the enemy a momentary advantage. +He choked with rage and indignation: but for the +moment he could find no words. Evidence? He had +the evidence of his senses; but it was true that he had +no corroborative evidence at hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">The bushranger's eyes glittered with a reckless light. +He knew that the sides were too uneven to play this +game long. He felt that he was a free man if he quietly +accepted fate as he had accepted it before at this man's +hands. The odds were overwhelming; but he was +seized with a wild desire to turn and face them; to +turn upon his contemptible foe and treat him as he +should have treated him in the beginning. It might +cost him his liberty—his life—but it was worth it! +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 291]</span> +The old devilry had sprung back into being within +him. He was desperate—more desperate, this half-hour, +than ever in the whole course of his desperate +existence. His life had seemed worth having during +the past weeks of his cowardice; now it was valueless—more +valueless than it had been before. He was +at bay, and he realised it. His brain was ablaze. He +had played the docile Miles too long. Wait a moment, +and he would give them one taste of the old Sundown!</p> + +<p class="indent">"At least," he sneered in a low, suppressed voice, +"you have someone behind you with a warrant? No? +Nothing but your bare word and the dim recollection +of years ago? That, my friend, seems hardly enough. +Ah, Colonel, I'm glad you are there. Is there any +truth in this message that has been given me, that you +have had enough of me?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I wish you to go," said Colonel Bristo, sternly. +"I wash my hands of you. Why refuse a chance of +escape?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What! Do you mean to say you believe this +maniac's cock-and-bull yarn about me?" He pointed +jauntily at Dick with his forefinger. But the hand +lowered, until the forefinger covered the corner of +white handkerchief peeping from Edmonstone's breast-pocket. +For a moment Miles seemed to be making +some mental calculation; then his hand dropped, and +trifled with his watch-chain.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I believe every word that he has told me," declared +the Colonel solemnly. "As to warrants, they are not +wanted where there is to be no arrest. We are not +going to lay hands on you. Then go!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Go!" echoed Edmonstone hoarsely. "And I wish +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 292]</span> +to God I had done my duty the night I found you out! +You would have been in proper hands long before +this."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Suppose I refuse to go? Suppose I stay and insist +on evidence being brought against me?" said Miles +to the Colonel. Then turning to Dick with fiery, +blood-shot eyes, he cried: "Suppose, since there is +no evidence at all, I shoot the inventor of all these +lies?"</p> + +<p class="indent">The hand was raised sharply from the watch-chain +and dived into an inner pocket. That moment might +have been Dick Edmonstone's last on earth, had not a +white fluttering skirt appeared in the passage behind +him.</p> + +<p class="indent">The hand of Miles dropped nervelessly.</p> + +<p class="indent">Colonel Bristo heard in the passage the light quick +steps and rustling dress, and ran to the door. At the +same instant Pinckney jumped up from his writing to +see what was the matter. They met in the passage, +and followed Alice to the steps. Her father seized her +hand, to draw her back, but she snatched it from his +grasp. Her hand was icy cold. Her face was white +as death—as immovable—as passionless. She stood +on the steps, and glanced from Edmonstone at her side +to Miles on the path below. On Miles her calm glance +rested.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You seem to forget!" she said in a hard voice that +seemed to come from far away. "You are forgetting +what you said to me a few minutes ago, on the road. +I understand your meaning better now than I did then. +Yes, it is true; you know it is true: you are what he +says you are!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 293]</span> +Miles watched her like one petrified.</p> + +<p class="indent">She turned to Dick at her side. And now a sudden +flush suffused her pallid cheeks, and her eyes dilated.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is you," she cried impetuously, "you that we +have to thank for this! You that have brought all this +upon us, you that allowed us to be preyed upon by a +villain—screened him, helped him in his deceit, plotted +with him! Being what he was, it was in his nature +to cheat us. I forgive him, and pity him. But you +I shall never forgive! Go, Mr. Miles. Whatever and +whoever you are, go as you are asked. And go you +too—true friend—brave gentleman! Go, both of you. +Let us never see you again. Yet no! Stay—stay, all +of you" (her face was changing, her words were growing +faint)—"and hear what it was—he said—to me—and +my answer, which is my answer still! Stay—one +moment—and hear——"</p> + +<p class="indent">Her words ceased altogether. Without a cry or a +moan she sank senseless in her father's arms.</p> + +<p class="indent">Philip Robson rushed forward. They stretched her +on the cold stone. They tore open the collar round +her neck, breaking the pretty brooch. They put +brandy to her lips, and salts to her nostrils, and water +upon her brow. Minutes passed, and there was no +sign, no glimmer of returning life.</p> + +<p class="indent">When Alice fell, Miles took one step forward, but +no more. He stood there, leaning forward, unable to +remove his eyes from the white lifeless face, scarcely +daring to breathe.</p> + +<p class="indent">There was no noise, no single word! The doctor +(to his credit be it remembered) was trying all that +he knew, quickly and quietly. The Colonel said not +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 294]</span> +a word, but silently obeyed his nephew, and chafed +the chill hands. Edmonstone fanned her face gently. +Pinckney had disappeared from the group.</p> + +<p class="indent">Robson suddenly looked up and broke the silence.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where is the nearest doctor?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Melmerbridge," murmured someone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He should be fetched at once. We want experience +here. This is no ordinary faint."</p> + +<p class="indent">Before the doctor had finished speaking, Miles +wheeled round and darted to the gate. And there he +found himself confronted by a short, slight, resolute +opponent.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You sha'n't escape," said Pinckney through his +teeth, "just because the others can't watch you! You +villain!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Pinckney had heard only the end of what had passed +on the steps, but that was enough to assure him that +Miles had been unmasked as a criminal. Of course +he would take the opportunity of all being preoccupied +to escape, and did; and David faced Goliath in the +gateway.</p> + +<p class="indent">In lesser circumstances Miles would have laughed, +and perhaps tossed his little enemy into the ditch. +But now he whipped out his revolver—quicker than +thought—and presented it with such swift, practised +precision that you would have thought there had been +no hiatus in his career as bushranger. And he looked +the part at that instant!</p> + +<p class="indent">Pinckney quailed, and gave way.</p> + +<p class="indent">The next moment, Miles was rushing headlong up +the hill.</p> + +<p class="indent">On the crest of the second hill, above the beck and +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 295]</span> +the bridge, he stopped to look round. The people on +the steps were moving. Their number had increased. +He could distinguish a servant-maid holding her apron +to her eyes. They were moving slowly; they were +carrying something into the house—something in a +white covering that hung heavily as a cerement in the +heavy air.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 296]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>XXVII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">THE FATAL TRESS</p> + +<p class="indent">Was she dead?</p> + +<p class="indent">The question was thundered out in the sound of the +runner's own steps on the flinty places, and echoed by +the stones that rolled away from under his feet. The +thought throbbed in his brain, the unspoken words +sang in his ears: Was she dead?</p> + +<p class="indent">The face of Alice was before Ryan as he ran: the +pale, delicate face of this last week, not the face of +old days. The early days of summer were old days, +though it was summer still. June by the Thames was +buried deeper in the past than last year in Australia, +though it was but August now. What had come over +the girl in these few weeks? What had changed and +saddened her? What made her droop like a trampled +flower? What was the matter—was it the heart?</p> + +<p class="indent">The heart! Suppose it was the heart. Suppose the +worst. Suppose this shock had killed her. Suppose +he—the criminal, the outlaw, the wretch unfit to look +upon good women—had murdered this sweet, cruel, +wayward, winsome girl! Even so, he must still push +on and bring her aid. If that aid came too late, then +let his own black life come to a swift and miserable +end. His life for hers; the scales of justice demanded +it.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 297]</span> +The afternoon was dull but not dusky. The clouds +were so high and motionless that it seemed as if there +were no clouds, but one wide vault of tarnished silver. +To point to that part of this canopy that hid the sun +would have been guesswork.</p> + +<p class="indent">Between the tall hedges the air was heavier than in +the morning; the flies and midges swarmed in myriads. +Even on the moor there was now no breath of wind. +The heather looked lifeless, colourless; the green fronds +peeping between had lost their sparkle; the red-brown +of the undulating belt of road was the brightest tint in +the landscape up there.</p> + +<p class="indent">When Ryan was half-way across the moor, rain +began to fall. He threw back his head as he ran, and +the raindrops cooled his heated face. His hat had long +ago been jerked off, and his hair lay plastered by perspiration +to the scalp. The man's whole frame was on +fire from his exertions. The breath came hard through +his clenched teeth. His blue eyes were filled with a +wild despair. Since the last backward look, that +showed him the solemn group on the steps, he had +thundered on without an instant's pause; and the time +lost in toiling up the banks was made up by dashing +headlong down the other side.</p> + +<p class="indent">Now he was climbing the steep ascent that culminated +at the spot where the road was curved round the +face of the cliff, and protected on the right by the low +stone parapet. Once at the top, he would soon be in +Melmerbridge, for the remainder of the road was +down-hill.</p> + +<p class="indent">The wall of cliff on the left was jagged and perpendicular, +and of the same russet tint as the road. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 298]</span> +Detached fragments of the rock rested in the angle +formed by its base and the rough-hewn road. Among +these boulders was an object that attracted Ryan's +curiosity as he climbed up from below: it was so like +a boulder in rigidity and colour, and in outline so +like a man. Ryan saw the outline alter: of course it +was a man, and he was crouching with his back to +the rock for shelter from the rain. Suddenly the man +rose, and staggered into the middle of the pass, between +rocky wall and stone parapet, while Ryan was still some +yards below. It was Pound.</p> + +<p class="indent">Ryan had seen him in the street at Melmerbridge, +in coming from church. Pound had reeled out of a +public-house and caught him by the arm. Ryan had +shaken him off with a whispered promise to meet him +in the evening as arranged; and had explained the +occurrence to his companion by some ready lie.</p> + +<p class="indent">So Pound was on his way back to Gateby, drunk. +This was evident from his attitude as he stood barring +the pass, and from the hoarse peal of laughter that +echoed round the cliff, and from the tones of blusterous +banter with which he greeted his quondam leader.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Welcome! Glad to see ye! But who'd ha' thought +you'd be better than your word? Better, I say—you're +better than your blessed word!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Stand clear!" shouted Ryan, twenty paces below.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pound leered down upon him like a satyr. His +massive arms were tightly folded across his bulky chest. +His smooth face became horrible as he stood looking +down and leering. His answer to Ryan was hissed +savagely through his teeth:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Stand clear be——! I want my money. I'll have +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 299]</span> +my whack o' the swag, and have it now! D'ye hear? +Now!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have nothing about me," Ryan answered. "You +drunken fool, stand clear!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The twenty paces between them were reduced to +ten.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nothing about you!" jeered Pound, spitting upon +the ground. "Ay, I know—you carry your nothing +round your neck, old man! And I'll have my share +of it now or never!"</p> + +<p class="indent">They were almost at arm's length now.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Never, then!" cried Ryan, half drawing his revolver.</p> + +<p class="indent">In a flash Pound's arm unfolded, and his right arm +shot out straight from the shoulder. There followed +a streak of fire and a loud report. Thin clouds of white +smoke hung in the motionless air. From their midst +came a deep groan and the thud of a dead weight +falling. And Pound was left standing alone, a smoking +pistol in his hand. For a minute he stood as still as +Ryan lay.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A shake longer," he muttered at length, "and I'd +have been there and you here. As it is—as it is, +I think you're cooked at last, skipper!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He put the revolver back in his pocket, and stood +contemplating his work. The sight completely sobered +him. To a certain degree it frightened him as well. +Of the other sensations, such as might ensue upon a +first murder, Jem Pound experienced simply none. +Even his fear was not acute, for it was promptly swallowed +by cupidity.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Now for them notes!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 300]</span> +He knelt down beside his victim, eyeing him cautiously. +The fallen man lay stretched across the road, +on his back. He had torn open his coat and waistcoat +while running, and the white shirt was darkened with +a stain that increased in area every instant. Pound +wondered whether he had hit the heart. The upturned +face, with closed eyelids and mouth slightly open, was +slimy and wet with perspiration and the soft August +rain. By holding the back of his hand half-an-inch +above the mouth, Pound satisfied himself that Ryan +was still breathing—"his last," thought Jem Pound, +without any extravagant regret. Blood was flowing +from a scalp-wound at the back of the head, received +in falling; but this escaped the murderer's notice. +What he next observed was that the arms lay straight +down the sides, and that the right hand grasped a revolver. +At sight of this, Jem Pound leapt to his feet +with an excited exclamation.</p> + +<p class="indent">He drew forth again his own revolver, to assure +himself that he was not mistaken. No, he was not. +The pistols were an original brace, and alike in every +particular. The smooth, heavy face of the murderer +lit up with infernal exultation. He pointed with a +finger that trembled now—from sheer excitement—to +the pistol in the lifeless hand, then tapped the barrel +of his own significantly.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Suicide!" he whispered. "Suicide—suicide—suicide!" +He reiterated the word until he thought +that he appreciated its full import. Then he knelt down +and leant over the prostrate Ryan, with the confident +air of a lucky man on the point of crowning a very +pyramid of good fortune.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 301]</span> +Slowly and daintily he unfastened the studs in +Ryan's shirt; he was playing with blood now, and +must avoid unnecessary stains. He would just take +what he wanted—take it cleverly, without leaving a +trace behind—and satisfy himself that it was what he +wanted, more or less. Then he would fire one chamber +of Ryan's revolver, and make off. But first—those +notes! The chest was already bathed in blood; but +Pound saw at once the object of his search, the +cause of his deed, and his black heart leapt within +him.</p> + +<p class="indent">Well, the little oiled-silk bag was small—unexpectedly +small—incredibly small; but then there were bank +notes for enormous sums; and one bank-note, or two, +or three, would fold quite as small as this, and press +as thin. To Pound's ignorant mind it seemed quite +natural for Sundown, the incomparably clever Sundown, +to have exchanged his ill-gotten gold for good, +portable paper-money at some or other time and place. +Dexterously, with the keen broad blade of his knife, +he cut the suspending tapes and picked up the bag on +its point. The oiled-silk bag was blood-stained; he +wiped it gingerly on the flap of Ryan's coat, and then +wiped the blood from his own fingers. He knew better +than to allow bank-notes to become stained with +blood.</p> + +<p class="indent">Yet how light it was in his palm! It would not be +lighter if the oiled-silk contained nothing at all. By +its shape, however, it did contain something. Pound +rose to his feet to see what. His confidence was ebbing. +His knees shook under him with misgiving. He +moved unsteadily to the low stone parapet, sat down, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 302]</span> +and ripped open the little bag with such clumsy haste +that he cut his finger.</p> + +<p class="indent">Jem Pound sat like a man turned to stone. The +little bag was still in his left hand, and the knife; his +right hand was empty the contents of the bag, a lock +of light hair, had fallen from his right palm to the +ground, where it lay all together, for there was no +wind to scatter it.</p> + +<p class="indent">Jem Pound's expression was one of blank, unspeakable, +illimitable disappointment; suddenly he +looked up, and it turned to a grimace of speechless +terror.</p> + +<p class="indent">The barrel of the other revolver covered him.</p> + +<p class="indent">Bleeding terribly from the bullet in his lungs, but +stunned by the fall on his head, Ned Ryan had recovered +consciousness in time to see Pound rip open the +oiled-silk bag, in time to smile faintly at what followed—and +to square accounts.</p> + +<p class="indent">Ryan did not speak. The faint smile had faded from +his face. In the relentless glare that took its place the +doomed wretch, sitting in a heap on the low parapet, +read his death-warrant.</p> + +<p class="indent">There was a pause, a hush, of very few moments. +Pound tried to use his tongue, but, like his lips, it was +paralysed. Then the echoes of the cliff resounded with +a second, short, sharp pistol shot, and when the white +smoke cleared away the parapet was bare; Jem Pound +had vanished; the account was squared.</p> + +<p class="indent">Ryan fell back. The pistol dropped from his hand. +Again he became well-nigh senseless, but this time consciousness +refused to forsake him utterly; he rallied. +Presently he fell to piecing together, in jerky, delirious +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 303]</span> +fashion, the events of the last few minutes—or hours, +he did not know which—but it was all the same to him +now. The circumstances came back to him vividly +enough, if out of their proper sequence. That which +had happened at the moment his senses fled from him +was clearest and uppermost in his mind at first.</p> + +<p class="indent">"The cur!" he feebly moaned. "He gave me no +show. He has killed me—I am bleeding to death +and not a soul to stop it or stand by me!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Yet, very lately, he had decided that his life was +valueless, and even thought of ending it by his own +hand. Some dim reflection of this recent attitude of +mind perhaps influenced him still, for, if an incoherent +mind can be said to reason, his first reasoning was +somewhat in this strain:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why should I mind? Who am I any good to, I +should like to know? What right have I to live any +more? None! I'm ready. I've faced it night and +day these four years, and not for nothing—not to flinch +now it's here!... And hasn't my life been gay +enough, and wild enough, and long enough?... +I said I'd die in the bush, and so I will—here, on these +blessed old ranges. But stop! I didn't mean to be +shot by a mate—I didn't mean that. A mate? +A traitor! What shall we do with him?"</p> + +<p class="indent">His mind had annihilated space: it had flown back +to the bush.</p> + +<p class="indent">A curious smile flickered over Ryan's face in answer +to his own question.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What have I done with him?" he muttered.</p> + +<p class="indent">He raised himself on his elbows and looked towards +the spot where he had seen Pound last. The formation +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 304]</span> +of the parapet seemed to puzzle him. It was unlike +the ranges.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He was always the worst of us, that Jem Pound," +he went rambling on; "the worst of a bad lot, I know. +But those murders were his doing. So at last we +chucked him overboard. And now he's come back +and murdered me. As to that, I reckon we're about +quits, with the bulge on my side. Never mind, Jem +Pound"—with a sudden spice of grim humour—"we'll +meet again directly. Your revenge'll keep till +then, old son!"</p> + +<p class="indent">All this time Ryan's brain was in a state of twilight. +He now lay still and quiet, and began to forget again. +But he could not keep his eyes long from the spot +whence Pound had disappeared, and presently, after a +fruitless effort to stand upright, he crawled to the parapet, +slowly lifted himself, and hung over it, gazing +down below.</p> + +<p class="indent">Nothing to be seen; nothing but the tops of the fir-trees. +Nothing to be heard; for the fir-trees were +asleep in the still, heavy atmosphere, and the summer +rain made no noise. He raised his head until his eyes +fell upon the broad flat table-land. The air was not +clear, as it had been in the morning. That pall of black +smoke covering the distant town was invisible, for the +horizon was far nearer, misty and indeterminate; and +his eyes were dim as they never had been before. The +line of white smoke left by an engine that crept lazily +across the quiet country was what he saw clearest; the +tinkling of a bell—for Sunday-school, most likely—down +in one of the hamlets that he could not see, was +the only sound that reached his ears.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 305]</span> +Yet he was struggling to recognise as much as he +could see, vaguely feeling that it was not altogether +new to him. It was the struggle of complete consciousness +returning.</p> + +<p class="indent">He was exhausted again; he fell back into the road. +Then it was that he noticed the parapet streaming with +blood at the spot where he had hung over it. To think +that the coward Pound should have bled so freely in +so short a time! And how strange that he, Ned Ryan, +should not have observed that blood before he had +drenched himself in it! No! Stop! It was his own +blood! He was shot; he was dying; he was bleeding +to his death—alone—away from the world!</p> + +<p class="indent">A low moan—a kind of sob—escaped him. He lay +still for some minutes. Then, with another effort, he +raised himself on his elbow and looked about him. +The first thing that he saw—close to him, within his +reach—was that fatal tress of light-coloured hair!</p> + +<p class="indent">In a flash his mind was illumined to the innermost +recesses, and clear from that moment.</p> + +<p class="indent">Now he remembered everything: how he had come +to his senses at the very moment that Pound was +handling this cherished tress, which alone was sufficient +reason and justification for shooting Jem Pound +on the spot; how he had been on his way to fetch help—help +for Alice Bristo!</p> + +<p class="indent">He pressed the slender tress passionately to his lips, +then twined it tightly in and out his fingers.</p> + +<p class="indent">Faint and bleeding as he was, he started to his feet. +New power was given him; new life entered the failing +spirit: new blood filled the emptying vessels. For a +whole minute Ned Ryan was a Titan. During that +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 306]</span> +minute the road reeled out like a red-brown ribbon +under his stride. The end of that minute saw him at +the top of Melmerbridge Bank. There, with the village +lying at his feet, and the goal all but won, he +staggered, stumbled, and fell headlong to the ground.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 307]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXVIII" id="XXVIII"></a>XXVIII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">THE EFFORT</p> + +<p class="indent">Galloping over the moor, fresh from his corn, the +pony suddenly swerved, and with such violence that +the trap was all but overturned.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What was that?" asked Edmonstone, who was +driving.</p> + +<p class="indent">"A hat," Pinckney answered.</p> + +<p class="indent">These two men were alone together, on an errand +of life or death.</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone glanced back over his shoulder.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I'll swear," said he, "that hat is Miles's!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Good heavens! has he stuck to the road?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Looks like it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then we're on his track?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Very likely."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And will get him, eh?"</p> + +<p class="indent">At this question Edmonstone brought down the +lash heavily on the pony's flank.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Who wants to get him? Who cares what becomes +of him? The Melmerbridge doctor's the man +we want to get!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Pinckney relapsed into silence. It became plain to +him that his companion was painfully excited. Otherwise +there was no excuse for his irritability.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 308]</span> +At the foot of the last steep ascent on the farther +side of the moor, Pinckney had jumped out to walk. +He was walking a few yards ahead of the pony. Suddenly +he stopped, uttered a shrill exclamation, and +picked up something he found lying in the road. He +was then but a few feet from the top, and the low stone +parapet was already on his right hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What is it?" cried Dick, from the pony-trap below.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pinckney threw his hand high over his head. The +revolver was stamped black and sharp against the cold +grey sky.</p> + +<p class="indent">A cold shudder passed through Edmonstone's +strong frame. The wings of death beat in his ears +and fanned his cheek with icy breath. The dread angel +was hovering hard by. Dick felt his presence, and +turned cold and sick to the heart.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Let me see it," cried Dick, urging on the pony.</p> + +<p class="indent">Pinckney ran down to meet him with a pale, scared +face.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was his," faltered Pinckney. "I ought to know +it. He threatened me with it when I tried to stop him +bolting."</p> + +<p class="indent">The slightest examination was enough to bespeak +the worst.</p> + +<p class="indent">"One cartridge has been fired," said Dick, in a +hushed voice. "God knows what we shall find next!"</p> + +<p class="indent">What they found next was a patch of clotting blood +upon the stones of the parapet.</p> + +<p class="indent">They exchanged no more words, but Dick got down +and ran on ahead, and Pinckney took the reins.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick's searching eyes descried nothing to check +the speed of his running till he had threaded the narrow, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 309]</span> +winding lane that led to Melmerbridge Bank, +and had come out at the top of that broad highway; +and there, at the roadside, stretched face downward +on the damp ground, lay the motionless form of Sundown, +the Australian outlaw.</p> + +<p class="indent">The fine rain was falling all the time. The tweed +clothes of the prostrate man were soaked and dark +with it. Here and there they bore a still darker, soaking +stain; and a thin, thin stripe of dusky red, already +two feet in length, was flowing slowly down the bank, +as though in time to summon the people of Melmerbridge +to the spot. Under the saturated clothes there +was no movement that Dick could see; but neither +was there, as yet, the rigidity of death in the long, +muscular, outstretched limbs.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick stole forward and knelt down, and murmured +the only name that rose to his lips:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Miles! Miles! Miles!"</p> + +<p class="indent">No answer—no stir. Dick lowered his lips to the +ear that was uppermost, and spoke louder:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Miles!"</p> + +<p class="indent">This time a low, faint groan came in answer. He +still lived!</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick gently lifted the damp head between his two +hands, and laid Ryan's cheek upon his knee.</p> + +<p class="indent">Ryan opened his blue eyes wide.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where am I? Who are you? Ah!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Consciousness returned to the wounded man, complete +in a flash this time. At once he remembered all—tearing +madly down from the top, in and out this +winding track—and all that had gone before. He +was perfectly lucid. He looked up in Edmonstone's +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 310]</span> +face, pain giving way before fierce anxiety in his own, +and put a burning question in one short, faint, pregnant +word:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Well?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Had health and strength uttered this vague interrogative, +Dick would have replied on the instant from +the depths of his own anxiety by telling the little that +he knew of Alice Bristo's condition. But here was a +man struck down—dying, as it seemed. How could +one think that on the brink of the grave a man should +ask for news from another's sick bed? Edmonstone +was puzzled by the little word, and showed it.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You know what I mean?" exclaimed Ryan, with +weary impatience. "Is she—is she—dead?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"God forbid!" said Dick. "She is ill—she is insensible +still. But man, man, what about you? What +have you done?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"What have I done?" cried Ryan, hoarsely. "I +have come to bring help to her—and—I have failed +her! I can get no further!"</p> + +<p class="indent">His voice rose to a wail of impotent anguish. His +face was livid and quivering. He fell back exhausted. +Dick attempted to staunch the blood that still trickled +from the wound in the chest. But what could he do? +He was powerless. In his helplessness he gazed down +the bank; not a soul was to be seen. He could not +leave Ryan. He could hear the sure-footed steps of +the pony slowly approaching from above. What was +he to do? Was this man to die in his arms without +an effort to save him? He gazed sorrowfully upon the +handsome face, disfigured by blood, and pain, and +mire. All his relations with this man recrossed his +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 311]</span> +mind in a swift sweeping wave, and, strange to say, +left only pity behind them. Could nothing be done to +save him?</p> + +<p class="indent">The pony-trap was coming nearer every instant. +It was Dick's one hope and comfort, for Pinckney +could leave the trap and rush down into the village +for help. He hallooed with all his might, and there +was an answering call from above.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Make haste, make haste!" cried Dick at the top +of his voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">The shouting aroused Ryan. He opened his eyes, +and suddenly started into a sitting posture.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Haste?" he cried, with articulation weaker yet +more distinct. "Yes, make haste to the township! +To the township, do you hear? There it is!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He pointed through the rain to the red roofs of +Melmerbridge, on the edge of the tableland below. +It was then that Dick noticed the lock of hair twisted +about the fingers of Ryan's right hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"There it is, quite close—don't you see it? Go! +go—I can't! Fly for your life to the township, and +fetch him—not to me—to her! For God's sake, fetch +him quick!"</p> + +<p class="indent">For all the use of the word "township," his mind +was not wandering in Australia now.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why don't you go? You may be too late! Why +do you watch me like that? Ah, you won't go! You +don't care for her as I did; you want her to die!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Wildly he flung himself forward, and dug his fingers +into the moist ground, and began feebly creeping +down the bank on his hands and knees. Dick tried in +vain to restrain him. The failing heart was set upon +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 312]</span> +an object from which death alone could tear it. During +this the last hour of his life this criminal, this common +thief, had struggled strenuously towards an end +unpretending enough, but one that was for once not +selfish—had struggled and fought, and received his +death-wound, and struggled on again. His life had +been false and base. It cannot be expected to count +for much that in his last moments he was faithful, and +not ignoble. Yet so it was in the end. Edmonstone +tried in vain to restrain him; but with a last extraordinary +effort he flung himself clear, and half crawled, +half rolled several yards.</p> + +<p class="indent">Suddenly Ned Ryan quivered throughout his whole +frame. Dick caught him in his arms, and held him +back by main force.</p> + +<p class="indent">The dying man's glassy gaze was fixed on the red +roofs below. For an instant one long arm was pointed +towards them, and a loud clear voice rang out upon +the silent air:</p> + +<p class="indent">"The township! The township——!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The cry ended in a choking sob. The arm fell +heavily. Edmonstone supported a dead weight on his +breast.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Pinckney!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, yes?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"God forgive him—it's all over!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 313]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXIX" id="XXIX"></a>XXIX</h2> + +<p class="h2a">ELIZABETH RYAN</p> + +<p class="indent">Elizabeth Ryan did not return to Gateby after leaving +Pound in the fields between the village and the +shooting-box. All that night she roamed the lanes +and meadows like a restless shade. Whither her footsteps +led her she cared little, and considered less.</p> + +<p class="indent">Though not unconscious of the mechanical act of +walking, her sense of locomotion was practically suspended. +A night on the treadmill would have left +upon her an impression of environment no more +monotonous than that which remained to her when +this night was spent; and she never once halted the +whole night through.</p> + +<p class="indent">Her seeing mind held but one image—her husband. +In her heart, darting its poison through every vein, +quivered a single passion—violent, ungovernable anger. +The full, undivided force of this fierce passion +was directed against Edward Ryan.</p> + +<p class="indent">Later—when the flame had gone out, and the sullen +glow of stern resolve remained in its stead—the situation +presented itself in the form of alternatives. Either +she must betray her husband, or set him free by ending +her own miserable life. One of these two things +must be done, one left undone. There was no third +way now. The third way had been tried; it should +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 314]</span> +have led to compassion and justice; it had led only to +further cruelty and wrong. One of the remaining +ways must now be chosen; for the woman it little mattered +which; they surely converged in death.</p> + +<p class="indent">At daybreak Elizabeth Ryan found herself in flat, +low-lying country. She looked for the hills, and saw +them miles away. From among those hills she had +come. She must have been walking right through +the night, she thought.</p> + +<p class="indent">She was by no means sure. She only knew that her +brain had been terribly active all through the night—she +could not answer for her body. Then, all at once, +a deadly weariness overcame her, and a score of aches +and pains declared themselves simultaneously. Prevented +by sheer distraction from feeling fatigue as it +came, by natural degrees, the moment the mental +strain was interrupted the physical strain manifested +its results in the aggregate; Mrs. Ryan in one moment +became ready to drop.</p> + +<p class="indent">She had drifted into a narrow green lane leading to +a farmhouse. She followed up this lane till it ended +before a substantial six-barred gate. She opened the +gate and entered the farmyard. She tried the doors +of the outbuildings. A cowhouse was open and +empty; one of its stalls was stacked high with hay; +to the top of this hay she climbed, and crept far back +to the wall, and covered her dress with loose handfuls +of the hay. And there Elizabeth Ryan went near to +sleeping the clock round.</p> + +<p class="indent">A hideous dream awoke her at last. She was trembling +horribly. She had seen her husband dead at her +feet—murdered at his wife's instigation!</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 315]</span> +The mental picture left by the dream was so vivid +that the unhappy woman lay long in terror and trembling, +not daring to move. Instead of paling before +consciousness and reason, the ghastly picture gained +in breadth, colour, and conviction with each waking +minute. He was lying dead at her feet—her husband—her +Ned—the man for love of whom she had crossed +the wide world, and endured nameless hardships, unutterable +humiliation. He was slain by the hand of +the man who had led her to him—by the ruthless murderer, +Jem Pound!</p> + +<p class="indent">She remembered her words to Pound, and her teeth +chattered: "Take it, even if you have to take his life +with it!" Those were the very words she had used +in her frenzy, meaning whatever it was that Ned wore +upon his breast. He wore it, whatever it was, near +to his heart; he must value it next to his life. What +else could it be but money? Oh, why had she told +Pound? How could passion carry her so far? If her +dream was true—and she had heard of true dreams—then +her husband was murdered, and the guilt was +hers.</p> + +<p class="indent">A low wail of agony escaped her, and for a moment +drove her fears into a new channel. Suppose that cry +were heard! She would be discovered immediately, +perhaps imprisoned, and prevented from learning the +worst or the best about her dream, which she must +learn at any price and at once! Filled with this new +and tangible dread she buried herself deeper in the +hay and held her breath. No one came. There was +no sound but her own heart's loud beating, and the +dripping and splashing of the rain outside in the yard, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 316]</span> +and the rising of the wind. She breathed freely again; +more freely than before her alarm. The minutes of +veritable suspense had robbed the superstitious terror +of half its power, but not of the motive half, she must +go back and make sure about that dream before carrying +out any previous resolution. Until this was done, +indeed, all antecedent resolves were cancelled.</p> + +<p class="indent">She crept down from the hay and peeped cautiously +outside. She could see no one. It was raining in torrents +and the wind was getting up. With a shudder +she set her face to it, and crossed the yard. At the +gate she stopped suddenly, for two unpleasant facts +simultaneously revealed themselves: she had no idea +of the way to Gateby, and she was famishing. Now +to be clear on the first point was essential, and there +was nothing for it but to apply boldly at the farmhouse +for the information; as to the second, perhaps at the +farmhouse she might also beg a crust.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dear heart!" cried the good wife, answering the +timid knock at the door. "Hast sprung from t'grave, +woman?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nay," answered Elizabeth, sadly; "I am only on +my way there."</p> + +<p class="indent">The farmer's wife, a mountain of rosy kindliness, +stared curiously at the pale frightened face before her, +and up and down the draggled dress.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why, Lord, thou'rt wet and cold; an' I'll be bound +thou's had nobbut hay for thy bed."</p> + +<p class="indent">With a sudden flood of tears, Elizabeth Ryan confessed +where she had been sleeping all day.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nay, nay, honey," said the good woman, a tear +standing in her own eye, "it's nowt—it's nowt. Come +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 317]</span> +in and get thysel' warmed an' dried. We're having +our teas, an' you shall have some, an' all!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Thus the poor vagrant fell among warm Yorkshire +hearts and generous Yorkshire hands. They gave her +food, warmth, and welcome, and pitied her more than +they liked to say. And when, in spite of all protests, +she would go on her way (though the risen wind was +howling in the chimney, and driving the heavy rain +against the diamond panes), honest William, son of +the house and soil, brought a great sack and tied it +about her shoulders, and himself set her on the high +road for Melmerbridge.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ye'll 'ave te go there," said he, "to get te +Gaatby. 'Tis six mile from this, an' Gaatby other +fower."</p> + +<p class="indent">Six miles? That was nothing. So said the strange +woman, as she tramped off in the teeth of the storm; +and William, hurrying homeward, wondered what had +made her eyes so bright and her step so brisk all at +once. He asked his parents what they thought, but +they only shook their puzzled heads: they had done +nothing out of the way that they knew of; how could +they guess that it had been their lot to show the first +human kindness to a poor forlorn pilgrim from over +the seas—the first the poor woman had met with in +all stony-hearted England?</p> + +<p class="indent">Yet her treatment at the hands of these simple +people had lightened the heart of Elizabeth Ryan, and +the terror of her awful dream had softened it. Her +burning rage against her husband was quenched; she +thought of it with shuddering shame. Her wild resolves +were thrown to the winds; she must have been +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 318]</span> +mad when she entertained them. She must have been +blind as well as mad; but now her sight was restored. +Yes, now she could see things in their true light. Now +she could see who had caused her husband's cruelty; +who had poisoned him against her—subtly, swiftly, +surely, at their first meeting; who had drugged her, +and then shown Ned his drunken wife at their second +meeting; whom she had to thank for all her misery: +the fiend, Jem Pound.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was true that Ned had treated her heartlessly; +but, believing what he believed of her, could she blame +him? She blamed him for listening to the first whisper +against her, from the lips of a monster; but his +fault ended there. He had never heard her in her own +defence. He had not so much as seen her alone. +There lay the root of it all: she had been allowed no +chance of explaining, of throwing herself on his compassion.</p> + +<p class="indent">But now she was going to put an end to all this. +She was going to him at once, and alone. She was +going to tell him all: how she had waited patiently for +him at Townsville until the news of his capture drove +her almost frantic; how, in the impulse and madness +of the moment, she had trusted herself to Jem Pound, +and followed him, her husband, to England; how she +had followed him for his own sake, in the blindness of +her love, which separation and his life of crime had +been powerless to lessen; how, ever since, she had +been in the power of a ruffianly bully, who had threatened +and cajoled her by turns.</p> + +<p class="indent">And then she would throw herself at Ned's feet, and +implore his mercy. And he, too, would see clearly, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 319]</span> +and understand, and pity her, and take her back into +his life. Whether that life was bad or good, it alone +was her heart's desire.</p> + +<p class="indent">A soft smile stole over the haggard face, upon which +the wind and the rain were beating more fiercely every +minute. Wind and rain were nothing to her now; +she could not feel them; she was back in Victoria, and +the sky above was dark blue, and the trees on either +side the flint-strewn track were gaunt, grey, and sombre. +The scent of the eucalyptus filled her nostrils. +The strokes of two galloping horses rang out loud +and clear on the rough hard road. She was mounted +on one of these horses, Ned on the other. They were +riding neck and neck, she and her handsome Ned—riding +to the township where the little iron church +was. It was their marriage morn. She had fled from +home for ever.</p> + +<p class="indent">Surely he loved her then—a little? Yet he had left +her, very soon, without a word or a cause; for weeks +she could gather no tidings of him, until one day news +came that rang through the countryside, and was +echoed throughout the colony—news that stamped +her new name with infamy. But had she changed her +name, or sunk her identity, or disowned her husband, +as some women might have done? No. She had employed +her woman's wit to hunt her husband down—to +watch over him—to warn him where danger lurked. +One night—it stood out vividly in her memory—she +had burst breathlessly into his bivouac, and warned +him in the nick of time: half-an-hour later the armed +force found the fires still burning, but the bushrangers +flown. And he had been good to her then; for it was +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 320]</span> +then that he had given her the money to go to his +only relative—a sister at Townsville; and he had +promised in fun to "work up" through Queensland, +some day, and meet her there. Yes, with the hounds +of justice on his heels he had made time to be kind to +her then, after a fashion. It was not much, that +amount of kindness, but it would be enough for her +now. After all that she had gone through, she would +be content with something short of love, say even tolerance. +She would try to win the rest, in after years—years +when Ned settled down in some distant country—when +Ned reformed. Could he refuse her now so +small a measure of what she gave him without stint? +Surely not. It was impossible. Unless—unless—unless—</p> + +<p class="indent">What made Elizabeth Ryan clench her drenched +cold fingers and draw her breath so hard? What +blotted out the visionary blue skies, tore hope and +fancy to shreds, and roused her to the bleak reality +of wind and rain and the sickening memory of her +husband's heartlessness? What, indeed, but the suggestions +of Jem Pound?</p> + +<p class="indent">She loathed herself for listening to a single word +from that polluted source; yet, as Pound's words +came back to her, she listened again to them all. She +thought of the pretty, delicate, pink-and-white woman +her own eyes had seen by the waters of the Thames, +with whom she had spoken, who had dared to offer +her money. The thought became a globe of fire in +her brain; and soon the poor woman had worked herself +back into a frame of mind bordering upon that +frenzy which had driven her hither and thither, like a +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 321]</span> +derelict ship at the wind's mercy, through the long +hours of the previous night. The appearance of watery +lights through the storm came not before it was time. +Even to Elizabeth Ryan, with hope and passion wrestling +in her breast, there was a certain faint excitement +and satisfaction in reaching a village after a six-mile +tramp through wind, rain, and dusk deepening into +night. Besides, if this was Melmerbridge, she must +ask and find out the road to Gateby.</p> + +<p class="indent">Guided by the lights, she presently reached the +north end of the long, one-sided village street; the +long straight stream, now running turbulently, was +on her left as she advanced, and Melmerbridge Bank +straight ahead, at the southern end of the village. +An irregular line of lights marked the houses on the +right; to the left, across the beck, there were no such +lights; but a set of church windows—the church being +lit up for evening service—hung gaudily against the +black screen of night; the outline of the church itself +was invisible. The deep notes of an organ rose and +fell in the distance, then died away; then suddenly, +as the wayfarer gazed, the stained-glass window disappeared, +and Mrs. Ryan found herself in the midst +of a little stream of people who were coming from the +bridge in front of the church to the cottages on the +opposite side of the road.</p> + +<p class="indent">From one of these people she received the directions +she required, but she noticed that most of them were +talking eagerly and excitedly, in a way not usual among +folks fresh from worship, or indeed in a quiet country +village at any time. Little groups formed in the doorways +and kept up an animated conversation. Clearly +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 322]</span> +there was something of uncommon interest astir. +Mrs. Ryan passed on, mildly interested herself.</p> + +<p class="indent">The last houses of the village were darker. Elizabeth +touched their outer walls with her skirts as she +trudged along the narrow uneven pavement. From +one of them came a sound which struck her as an odd +sound for a Sabbath evening—the long, steady sweep +and swish of a plane. This house was a shop; for six +parallel threads of light issued from the chinks of the +tall shutters. Through one of these chinks a small +boy was gazing with rapt attention and one eye closed. +Mrs. Ryan stopped, and out of mere curiosity peered +through another.</p> + +<p class="indent">A burly old man was energetically planing a long, +wide, roughly-shaped, hexagonal plank. The shape +of the plank was startling.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What is it he is making?" inquired Mrs. Ryan of +the small boy. Perhaps she could see for herself, and +put the question mechanically.</p> + +<p class="indent">The answer was prompt and short:</p> + +<p class="indent">"A coffin!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Ryan shuddered and stood still. The urchin +volunteered a comment.</p> + +<p class="indent">"My! ain't it a long 'un! Did ye iver see sich a +long 'un, missis?"</p> + +<p class="indent">He was little Tom Rowntree, the sexton's son and +heir, this boy, so he knew what he was talking about; +one day, all being well, he would dig graves and bury +folks himself; he took a profound premature interest +in all branches of the hereditary avocation.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Who is dead?" asked Mrs. Ryan, in a hard metallic +voice.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 323]</span> +"Haven't heard tell his name, but 'tis a sooincide, +missis—a sooincide! A gent's been and shot hisself +upon the bank there, this afternoon. He's a-lyin' ower +yonder at t' Blue Bell."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Where is that?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yonder, look—t' last house on this side. It's nigh +all dark, it is, an' no one there 'cept my mother an' +Mr. Robisson hisself, an' customers turned away an' +all. That's 'cause Mrs. Robisson she's took the high-strikes—some +people is that weak!"</p> + +<p class="indent">But there was no listener to these final words +of scorn. With a ghastly face and starting eyes, +Elizabeth Ryan was staggering to the Blue Bell +inn.</p> + +<p class="indent">A square of pale light dimly illumined a window +close to the ground to the left of the door, otherwise +the inn was in darkness. Elizabeth Ryan crouched +down, and never took her eyes from that window till +the light was extinguished. Then she heard the door +within open and shut, and the outer door open. A +man and a woman stood conversing in low tones on +the steps, the woman's voice broken by sobs.</p> + +<p class="indent">"'Tisn't that I'm growing old and nervous, Mr. +Robisson, and thinkin' that me own time'll come some +day; no, it's not that. But all these years—and never +such a thing to happen in the village before—little did +I think to live to be called in to the likes o' this. And +such a good face as I never seed in living man, poor +fellow! You never know where madness comes in, +and that's what it's been, Mr. Robisson. And now +I'm out o' t' room I'm that faint I don't know how to +get home."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 324]</span> +"Come, come, I'll give you my arm and umbrella +across, Mistress Rowntree."</p> + +<p class="indent">"But ye've left t' key in t' door?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, I'll be back quick enough; it's only a step."</p> + +<p class="indent">He gave her his arm, and the pair came out together +and went slowly up the village street. In less than +five minutes the landlord of the Blue Bell returned, +locked all the doors, and went to bed, leaving the inn +in total darkness.</p> + +<p class="indent">A quarter of an hour later this total darkness was +interrupted; a pale light glimmered in the window close +to the ground to the left of the door. This light burned +some ten or twenty minutes. Just before it was put +out, the window-sash was moved up slowly. Then, +when all was once more in darkness, a figure stepped +out upon the sill, leapt lightly to the ground, and +cautiously drew down the sash.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h2><a name="XXX" id="XXX"></a>XXX</h2> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 325]</span></p> + +<p class="h2a">SWEET REVENGE</p> + +<p class="indent">Whistling over the hilltops and thundering through +the valleys, down came the wind upon the little lonely +house by the roadside; and with the wind, driving +rain; and they beat together upon the walls of that +corner room wherein Alice Bristo lay trembling between +life and death.</p> + +<p class="indent">The surgeon from Melmerbridge pronounced it to +be brain fever. He had found the patient wildly delirious. +The case was grave, very grave. Dangerous? +There was always danger with an abnormal temperature +and delirium. Dr. Mowbray stayed until evening +and ultimately left his patient sleeping quietly. He +promised to return in the early morning.</p> + +<p class="indent">The doctor stopped, as he was driving off, to shriek +something through the storm:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Have you any one who can nurse—among the +servants?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Inquiries were immediately made.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No," was the answer.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I'll send over a handy woman from Melmerbridge," +said Dr. Mowbray; crack went his whip, and the gig-wheels +splashed away through the mud.</p> + +<p class="indent">A young man standing at the other side of the road, +bareheaded and soaked to the skin, wondered whether +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 326]</span> +the nurse would be sent at once that night. Then this +young man continued his wild rapid walk up and down +the country road, glancing up every moment at the +feeble light that shone from the casement of that corner +room on the upper floor.</p> + +<p class="indent">Up and down, never pausing nor slackening his +speed, fifty paces above the house and fifty below it, +this unquiet spirit strode to and fro in the wind and the +rain, like Vanderdecken on his storm-proof poop.</p> + +<p class="indent">Once, when opposite the house, he touched the skirts +of a woman crouching under the hedge; but he was +not aware of it—he was gazing up at the window—and, +before he passed that spot again the woman was +gone.</p> + +<p class="indent">The woman had crept stealthily across the road and +through the open wicket. She was crouching behind +the opposite hedge, on the rough grass-plot in front +of the house. Once more the swinging steps passed +the house and grew faint in the distance. The crouching +woman sprang erect, darted noiselessly up the +steps, and grasped the door-handle. She turned the +handle and pushed gently, the door was neither locked +nor bolted; it opened. The woman entered, and closed +the door softly behind her. She stooped, listening. +The footsteps passed the house without a pause or a +hitch, as before. She had been neither seen nor heard—from +without. A horrid smile disfigured the +woman's livid face. She stood upright for an instant, +her hand raised to her forehead, pausing in thought.</p> + +<p class="indent">A lamp was burning low on the table in the passage; +its dull light flickered upon the dark, fierce, resolute +face of Elizabeth Ryan.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 327]</span> +The dark hair fell in sodden masses about a face +livid and distorted with blind fury, the dark eyes +burned like live coals in the dim light, the cast of the +firm wide mouth was vindictive, pitiless; the fingers +of the right hand twitched terribly; once they closed +spasmodically upon a loose portion of the ragged dress, +and wrung it so hard that the water trickled down in a +stream upon the mat, and at that moment murder was +written in the writhing face. The left hand was tightly +clasped.</p> + +<p class="indent">Elizabeth Ryan had crept into the chamber of death, +in the Blue Bell at Melmerbridge, during the five minutes' +absence of the innkeeper. It was she who had +quitted that room by the window. She had fled wildly +over the moor, maddened by a discovery that scorched +up the grief in her heart, setting fire to her brain, +changed in a flash from a bewildered, heartbroken, +forlorn creature to a ruthless frantic vendetta. The +substance of that discovery was hidden in her clasped +left hand.</p> + +<p class="indent">She stood for a brief interval on the mat, then stepped +stealthily forward towards the stairs. A light issued +from an open door on the left, near the foot of the +stairs. She peeped in as she passed. Stretched on a +couch lay an old white-haired man, dressed as though +it were mid-day instead of mid-night, in a tweed suit. +Though asleep, his face was full of trouble. Nothing +in this circumstance, nor in the conduct of the man +outside walking to and fro in the storm, nor in the dim +lights all over the house at this hour, struck Elizabeth +Ryan as extraordinary. Her power of perception was +left her; her power of inference was gone, except in +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 328]</span> +direct relation to the one hideous project that possessed +her soul. She crept softly up the stairs. They did not +creak. She appreciated their silence, since it furthered +her design.</p> + +<p class="indent">As below, a light issued from an open door. She +approached this door on tip-toe. A pair of small light +shoes, with the morning's dust still upon them, stood +at one side of the mat; someone had mechanically placed +them there. When Elizabeth Ryan saw them her burning +eyes dilated, and her long nervous fingers closed +with another convulsive grasp upon the folds of her +skirt.</p> + +<p class="indent">She crossed the threshold and entered the room. +The first thing she saw, in the lowered light of a lamp, +was an old, puckered, wrinkled face just appearing +over a barrier of eiderdown and shawls, and deep-set +in an easy-chair. The brown, wrinkled eyelids met the +brown, furrowed cheeks. The watcher slumbered and +slept.</p> + +<p class="indent">As yet the room wore none of the common trappings +of a sick-room: the illness was too young for that. +The book the sick girl had been reading last night lay +open, leaves downward, on the chest of drawers; the +flowers that she had picked on the way to church, to +fasten in her dress, had not yet lost their freshness; +the very watch that she had wound with her own hand +last night was still ticking noisily on the toilet-table. +Thus, to one entering the room, there was no warning +of sickness within, unless it was the sight of the queer +old sleeping woman in the great chair by the fireside, +where a small fire was burning.</p> + +<p class="indent">The stealthy visitor took two soft, swift, bold steps +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 329]</span> +forward—only to start back in awe and horror, and +press her hand before her eyes. She, Elizabeth Ryan, +might do her worst now. She could not undo what +had been done before. She could not kill Death, and +Death had forestalled her here.</p> + +<p class="indent">A cold dew broke out upon the woman's forehead. +She could not move. She could only stand still and +stare. Her brain was dazed. She could not understand, +though she saw plainly enough. After a few +moments she did understand, and her heart sickened +as it throbbed. Oh that it would beat its last beat there +and then! Oh if only she too might die! Standing, +as she thought, in the presence of death for the second +time that night, Elizabeth Ryan lifted her two arms, +and prayed that the gracious cold hand might be extended +to her also. In the quenching of the fires that +had raged in her brain, in the reawakening of her heart's +anguish, this poor soul besought the Angel of Death +not to pass her by, praying earnestly, pitifully, dumbly, +with the gestures of a fanatic.</p> + +<p class="indent">She lowered her eyes to face for the last time her +whom death had snatched from vengeance. She +started backwards, as she did so, in sudden terror. +What was this? The dead girl moved—the dead girl +breathed—the counterpane rose and fell evenly. Had +she been mistaken in her first impression? Elizabeth +Ryan asked herself with chattering teeth. No! More +likely she was mistaken now. This must be an illusion, +like the last; she had been terrified by a like movement +in the room at the Blue Bell, and it had proved but a +cruel trick of the sight and the imagination; and this +was a repetition of the same cruel trick.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 330]</span> +No, again! The longer she looked the more distinct +grew this movement. It was regular, and it was gentle. +Faint yet regular breathing became audible. The face +on the pillows was flushed. Death had stopped short +at Melmerbridge; Death had not travelled so far as +this—at least, not yet: there was still a chance for +vengeance!</p> + +<p class="indent">But Elizabeth Ryan had undergone a swift psychological +reaction. That minute in which she stood, as +she believed, for the second time that night in the +presence of Death—that minute in which her spirit +yearned with a mighty longing to be stilled, too, for +ever—that minute had done its work. In it the mists +of passion had risen from the woman's mind; in it the +venom had been extracted from her heart. Her eyes, +now grown soft and dim, roved slowly round the room. +They fell curiously upon something upon a chair on +the far side of the bed—a heap of light hair; they +glanced rapidly to the head on the pillows—it was all +but shaved.</p> + +<p class="indent">Elizabeth Ryan raised her clenched left hand; the +hand trembled—the woman trembled from head to +foot. She laid her arms upon the chest of drawers, and +her face upon her arms, and stood there until her +trembling ceased. When at last she raised her head, +her eyes were swimming, but a bright determination +shone out through the tears.</p> + +<p class="indent">She moved cautiously round the foot of the bed +and dipped her left hand into the heap of light hair, +and for the first time unclasped her hand. The hand +was lifted empty, but the heap of Alice's hair remained +a heap of her hair still; it had but received its own again.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 331]</span> +This strange yet simple act seemed to afford the +performer the deepest relief; she gazed kindly, even +tenderly, on the young wan face before her, and sighed +deeply. Then hastily she retraced her steps to the +door. At the door she stopped to throw back a glance +of forgiveness and farewell.</p> + +<p class="indent">Now it happened that the head of the sleeping girl +had slipped upon the pillow, so that its present position +made the breathing laboured.</p> + +<p class="indent">Quick as thought, Mrs. Ryan recrossed the room +from the door, and, with her woman's clever light hand, +rearranged the pillows beneath the burning head, and +smoothed them gently. But in doing this the silent +tears fell one after the other upon the coverlet; and +when it was done some sudden impulse brought Elizabeth +upon her knees by the bedside, and from that +bleeding heart there went up a short and humble +prayer, of which we have no knowing—at which we +can make no guess, since it flew upward without the +weight of words.</p> + +<p class="indent">How cold, how bitter, how piercing were the blast +and the driving rain outside! In the earlier part of the +night their edge had not been half so keen; at all events, +it did not cut so deep. Where was a woman to turn +on such a night? A woman who had no longer any +object in life, nor a single friend, nor—if it came to +that—a single coin: what was such an one to do on a +night like this?</p> + +<p class="indent">The picture of the warm, dry bedroom came vividly +back to Elizabeth Ryan; she felt that she would rather +lie sick unto death in that room than face the wild night +without an ailment more serious than a broken, bleeding +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 332]</span> +heart. She looked once back at the dim light in +the upper window, and then she set her face to Gateby. +Before, however, she was many paces on her way, quick +footsteps approached her—footsteps that she seemed +to know—and a man's voice hailed her in rapid, excited +tones:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Are you from Melmerbridge?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," she faltered. What else dared she say. It +was true, too.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then you are the nurse! you are the nurse! I have +been waiting for you, looking out for you, all the night, +and now you have come; you have walked through the +storm; God bless you for it!"</p> + +<p class="indent">His voice was tremulous with thanks and joy; yet +trouble must have clouded his mind, too, or he never +could have believed in his words.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I do not understand—" Mrs. Ryan was beginning, +but he checked her impatiently:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are the nurse, are you not?" he cried, with +sudden fear in his voice. "Oh don't—don't tell me +I'm mistaken! Speak—yes, speak—for here we are +at the house."</p> + +<p class="indent">The pause that followed well-nigh drove him frantic. +Then came the answer in a low, clear voice:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You are not mistaken. I am waiting to be shown +into the house."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 333]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXXI" id="XXXI"></a>XXXI</h2> + +<p class="h2a">THE CHARITY OF SILENCE</p> + +<p class="indent">Dr. Mowbray, coming first thing in the morning, +declared that the patient had passed a better night +than he had hoped for; but he told Colonel Bristo +privately that he must count on nothing as yet, and +be prepared for anything.</p> + +<p class="indent">To his surprise and delight, the physician found his +patient in the hands of a gentle, intelligent nurse. This +was the more fortunate since he had failed to find in +Melmerbridge a capable woman who was able to come. +Whoever the dark, shabbily-dressed woman was, she +must not be allowed to leave the bedside for the +present. "She is a godsend," said Dr. Mowbray on +coming downstairs. Colonel Bristo, for his part, knew +nothing of the woman; he supposed she was from +Gateby. Mrs. Parish, no doubt, knew all about her; +and after the doctor's account of her services, the +Colonel made no inquiries.</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone and Pinckney were to drive back to +Melmerbridge with the doctor to attend the inquest +on the body of the suicide. Before they started the +Colonel called the two young men aside, and a brief, +earnest colloquy took place.</p> + +<p class="indent">During the drive Dr. Mowbray mentioned a strange +report that had reached him before leaving Melmerbridge; +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 334]</span> +it was noised in the village, at that early hour, +that the dead man had moved one of his hands during +the night.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It will show you," the doctor said, "the lengths to +which the rustic imagination can stretch. The fact is, +they are terribly excited and primed with superstition, +for there hasn't been a suicide in the parish in the +memory of this generation. What is more," added the +old gentleman, suddenly, "I'm not sure that there's +been one now!"</p> + +<p class="indent">There was some excuse, perhaps, for the string of +excited questions reeled off on the spur of the moment +by young Pinckney: "Why? How could it be anything +else but suicide? Had they not got the pistol—Miles's +own pistol? Had not Dr. Mowbray himself +said that the bullet extracted fitted the one empty cartridge +found in the revolver? Besides, Miles had not +denied shooting himself when asked by Edmonstone +what he had done."</p> + +<p class="indent">"But did he admit that he had shot himself?" asked +Dr. Mowbray, turning to Edmonstone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, he did not."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Was his manner, up to the last, that of a man who +had deliberately shot himself?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, it was not. It might have been an accident."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Neither the one nor the other," said the doctor. +"Now I'll tell you two something that I shall make +public presently: a man cannot point a pistol at himself +from a greater distance than two feet at the outside; +but this shot was fired at three times that range!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"How can you tell, sir?" asked Pinckney, with +added awe and subtracted vehemence.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 335]</span> +"The clothes are not singed; the hole might have +been made by a drill, it was so clean."</p> + +<p class="indent">The young man sat in silent wonder. Then Dick +put a last question:</p> + +<p class="indent">"You think it has been—murder?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Personally, I am convinced of it. We shall say +all we know, and get an adjournment. At the adjourned +inquest Colonel Bristo will attend, and tell us +his relations with the dead man, who, it appears, had +no other friend in the country; but to-day that is not +absolutely necessary, and I shall explain his absence +myself. Meanwhile, detectives will be sent down, and +will find out nothing at all, and the affair will end in a +verdict against some person or persons unknown, at +best."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dr. Mowbray's first prediction was forthwith fulfilled: +the inquest was adjourned. The doctor at once +drove back to Gateby with the two young men. As +they drove slowly down the last hill they descried two +strangers, in overcoats and hard hats, conversing with +Colonel Bristo in the road. Philip Robson was standing +by, talking to no one, and looking uncomfortable.</p> + +<p class="indent">When the shorter of the two strangers turned his +face to the gig, Dick ejaculated his surprise—for it was +the rough, red, good-humoured face of the Honourable +Stephen Biggs.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What has brought you here?" Dick asked in a +low voice when he had greeted the legislator.</p> + +<p class="indent">By way of reply, Biggs introduced him to the tall, +grave, black-bearded, sharp-featured gentleman—Sergeant +Compton, late of the Victorian Mounted Police.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 336]</span> +There was an embarrassed silence; then Philip Robson +stepped forward.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It was my doing," he said, awkwardly enough; and +he motioned Dick to follow him out of hearing of the +others. "I listened," he then confessed, "to a conversation +between you and Miles. I heard you read a +letter aloud. From what passed between you, I gathered +that Miles was a blackleg of some kind, whom +you were screening from the police. Miles found that +I had overheard you, and swore to me that you were +the victim of a delusion. When I reflected, I disbelieved +him utterly. I copied the address of the letter +you had written, and the next day I wrote myself to +Mr. Biggs, describing Miles as well as I could, and +saying where he was. I did not dream that Miles was +a bushranger, even then—I thought he was merely a +common swindler. However, that's the whole truth. +Edmonstone, I'm sorry!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick's first expression of contempt had vanished. +Frank admissions turn away wrath more surely than +soft answers. Besides, Robson had behaved well yesterday: +without him, what might not have happened +before Dr. Mowbray arrived?</p> + +<p class="indent">"I believe," said Dick, "that you were justified in +what you did, only—I'm sorry you did it."</p> + +<p class="indent">Mr. Biggs was in close conversation with Colonel +Bristo. Sergeant Compton stood aloof, silent and +brooding; in the hour of triumph Death had baulked +him of his quarry; his dark face presented a study in +fierce melancholy.</p> + +<p class="indent">"If only," the Colonel was saying piteously, "the +tragedy could stop at the name of Miles! The scandal +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 337]</span> +that will attach to us when the whole sensation comes +to light is difficult to face. For my part, I would face +it cheerfully if it were not—if it were not for my +daughter Alice. And, after all, it may not annoy her. +She may not live to hear it."</p> + +<p class="indent">The last words were broken and hardly intelligible.</p> + +<p class="indent">The rugged face of Stephen Biggs showed honest +concern, and honest sympathy too. It did not take +him long to see the case from the Colonel's point of +view, and he declared very bluntly that, for his part, +he would be glad enough to hush the thing up, so +far as the dead man's past life was concerned (and +here Mr. Biggs jingled handfuls of coins in his pockets), +but that, unfortunately, it did not rest with him.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You see, Colonel," he explained, "my mate here +he's been on Ned Ryan's trail, off and on, these four +years. Look at him now. He's just mad at being +cheated in the end. But he's one of the warmest traps +in this Colony—I mean out in Vic.; and, mark me, he'll +take care to let the whole Colony know that, if he +warn't in at Sundown's death, he was nearer it than +any other blessed 'trap.' There's some personal feeling +in it, Colonel," said Biggs, lowering his voice. +"Frank Compton has sworn some mighty oath or +other to take Ned Ryan alive or dead."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Suppose," said the Colonel, "we induce your friend +here to hold his tongue, do you think it would be possible +for us to let this poor fellow pass out of the world +as Miles, a squatter, or, at worst, an unknown adventurer?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"How many are there of you, Colonel, up here who +know?"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 338]</span> +"Four."</p> + +<p class="indent">"And there are two of us. Total six men in the +world who know that Ned Ryan, the bushranger, died +yesterday. The rest of the world believes that he was +drowned in the Channel three months ago. Yes, I +think it would be quite possible. Moreover, I don't see +that it would do the least good to any one to undeceive +the rest of the world; but Frank Compton—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Is he the only detective after Miles in this country?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"The only one left. The others went back to Australia, +satisfied that their man was drowned."</p> + +<p class="indent">"But our police—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, your police are all right, Colonel. They've +never so much as heard of Sundown. They're easily +pleased, are your police!"</p> + +<p class="indent">It was at this point that Dr. Mowbray reappeared +on the steps. Colonel Bristo went at once to learn his +report, which must have been no worse than that of +the early morning, for it was to speak of the inquest +that the Colonel hurried back the moment the doctor +drove away.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dick," said he, in a voice that all could hear (Edmonstone +was still talking to Robson—Compton still +standing aloof), "you never told me the result. The +inquest is adjourned; but there is a strong impression +it seems that it is not a case of suicide after all, gentlemen—but +one of wilful murder."</p> + +<p class="indent">The personal bias mentioned by Biggs had not altogether +extinguished ordinary professional instincts in +the breast of Sergeant Compton; for, at this, his black +eyes glittered, and he pulled his patron aside.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 339]</span> +Biggs, in his turn, sought a private word with the +Colonel.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Compton," he said, "is bent on at once seeing the +spot where Ryan was shot. Will you send some one +with us? I'll bring my man back this evening, and +we'll try to talk him over between us; but I fear it's +hopeless."</p> + +<p class="indent">Between three and four that afternoon the body of +Jem Pound was found at the bottom of the cliff, a mile +from Melmerbridge, among the fir-trees.</p> + +<p class="indent">Between eight and nine that evening, in the little +gun-room at the shooting-box, Biggs—in the presence +of Colonel Bristo—made a last effort to induce Sergeant +Compton to join the conspiracy of silence regarding +the identity of Miles, the Australian adventurer, +now lying dead at Melmerbridge, with Sundown, +the Australian bushranger, supposed to have +been drowned in the Channel in the previous April. +All to no purpose. The Sergeant remained obdurate.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Mr. Biggs," said he, "and you, sir, I must declare +to you firmly and finally that it is impossible for me +to hold my tongue in a case like this. I will not speak +of fairness and justice, for I agree that no one will be +a bit the better off for knowing that Ned Ryan died +yesterday instead of last spring. I will be perfectly +candid. I will ask you to think for a moment what +this means to me. It means this: when I get back +to Melbourne I will be worth twice what I was before +I sailed. The fact of having been the only man to +disbelieve in Ryan's drowning, and the fact of having +as near as a touch taken both Ryan and Pound alive, +will make my fortune for me out there."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 340]</span> +Honest Biggs rattled the coins in his pockets, and +seemed about to speak.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No, sir," said Compton, turning to his patron. +"My silence won't be given—it cannot be bought. +I have another reason for telling everything: my +hatred for Ned Ryan—that death cannot cool!"</p> + +<p class="indent">These words Compton hissed out in a voice of low, +concentrated passion.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I have not dogged him all these years for mere love +of the work. No! He brought disgrace upon me and +mine, and I swore to take him alive or dead. I keep +my oath—I take him dead! All who know me shall +know that I have kept my oath! As for Jem Pound, +his mate and his murderer—"</p> + +<p class="indent">The door opened, and the nurse stood panting on the +threshold. Even in her intense excitement she remembered +that she had left her charge sleeping lightly, and +her words were low:</p> + +<p class="indent">"What is it you say? Do you say that Jem Pound +murdered my husband?" Colonel Bristo and the Sergeant +started simultaneously. "Well, I might have +known that—I might have told you that. But upstairs—I +have been forgetting! I have been forgetting—forgetting! +Yet when I heard you gentlemen come in +here I remembered, and it was to tell you what I knew +about Jem Pound that I came down."</p> + +<p class="indent">Sergeant Compton had turned an ashen grey; his +eyes never moved from the face of the woman from the +moment she entered the room. Elizabeth Ryan crossed +the room and stood in front of him. His face was in +shadow.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You, sir—I heard your voice as my hand was on +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 341]</span> +the door-handle; and I seemed to know your voice; +and, while I stood trying to remember whose voice it +was, I heard what you said. So you will not let the +dead man rest! So, since he escaped you by his +death, you would bring all the world to hoot over +his grave! Oh, sir, if the prayers of his wife—his +widow—"</p> + +<p class="indent">She stopped. The man had risen unsteadily from his +chair. His face was close to hers. She sprang back as +though shot.</p> + +<p class="indent">Sergeant Compton whispered one word: "Liz!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Biggs and the Colonel watched the pale dark woman +and the dark pale man in silent wonder. There was a +likeness between man and woman.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Liz!" repeated the Sergeant in a low, hoarse voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Who—who are you? Are you—are you—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I am Frank!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Frank!" she whispered to herself, unable to realise +all at once who Frank had been—it was so long since +there had been a Frank in her life. "What!" she exclaimed +in a whisper; "not my brother Frank?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes, your brother Frank. But—but I thought you +were out there, Liz. I thought he had long ago deserted +you; and that made me thirst all the more—"</p> + +<p class="indent">His sister flung herself at his feet.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh, Frank! Frank!" she wailed. "Since the day +I married I have spoken to none of my own kith and +kin until this night. And this is how we meet! Frank!—Frank!"—her +voice fell to a tremulous whisper—"do +one thing for me, and then, if you are still so +bitter against me, go away again. Only one thing I +ask—a promise. Promise, for your part, to keep +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 342]</span> +silence! Let the dead man—let the dead man sleep +peacefully. If the whole truth will come out, come out +it must; but don't let it be through you, Frank—never +let it be through you! Speak. Do you +promise?"</p> + +<p class="indent">The low, tearful, plaintive tones ceased, and there +was silence in the room. Then Francis Compton bent +down, and lifted his sister Elizabeth in his arms.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I promise," he whispered in a broken voice. "God +knows you have suffered enough!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 343]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXXII" id="XXXII"></a>XXXII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">SUSPENSE: REACTION</p> + +<p class="indent">Days of suspense followed, while Alice's life trembled +in the balance. In what way these days were +passed the watchers themselves scarcely knew: for it +is among the offices of suspense to make word and +deed mechanical, and life a dream. The senses are +dulled; nothing is realised—not even death itself, when +death comes. Afterwards you remember with horror +your callousness: when all the time your senses have +been dulled by the most merciful of Nature's laws. +Afterwards you find that you received many an impression +without knowing it. Thus Dick Edmonstone, +for one, recalled a few things that he had quite forgotten, +on his way south in the train afterwards.</p> + +<p class="indent">He could feel again the wind lifting the hair from +his head on the dark hilltop. He saw the crescent +moon racing through foamy billows of clouds, like a +dismasted ship before the wind. He felt the rushing +air as he sped back to the post in the lonely road from +which he watched all night that square of yellow light—the +light through her window-blind. This faint yellow +light shot beams of hope into his heart through the +long nights; he watched it till dawn, and then crept +wearily to his bed in the inn. When he roamed away +from it, a superstitious dread seized him that he would +return to find the light gone out for ever. The pale, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 344]</span> +faint light became to him an emblem of the faint, +flickering life that had burnt so low. He would wildly +hurry back, with death at his heart. Thank God! the +light still burned.</p> + +<p class="indent">In memory he could hear his own voice treating +with a carter for a load of straw. He was again laying +down with his own hands the narrow road with this +straw; he was sitting half the day at his post in the +gap of the hedge, watching her window; he was tasting +again of the delight with which he watched the first +vehicle crawl noiselessly across that straw.</p> + +<p class="indent">These were among his most vivid recollections; but +voices came back to him plainest of all.</p> + +<p class="indent">The voices of the professional nurses, whispering +where they little dreamt there was a listener; foreboding +the worst; comparing notes with their last fatal +cases; throwing into their tones a kind of pity worse +than open indifference—perfunctory and cold. Or, +again, these same voices telling how a certain name +was always on the feverish lips upstairs.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah, poor soul!" said they; "she thinks of nothing +but him!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Of whom? Whose name was for ever on her lips? +The name of him to whom she had breathed her last +conscious words?</p> + +<p class="indent">Even so; for another voice had echoed through the +silent house more than once, and could never be forgotten +by those who heard it; the piercing, heart-rending, +delirious voice of Alice herself, reiterating +those last conscious words of hers:</p> + +<p class="indent">"Hear what it was he said to me, and my answer—which +is my answer still!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 345]</span> +What had Miles said? What had been Alice's answer? +Who would ever know? Not Dick; and these +words came back to him more often than any others, +and they tortured him.</p> + +<p class="indent">But there were other words—words that had been +spoken but yesterday, and as yet seemed too good to +be true; the words of the kind old country doctor:</p> + +<p class="indent">"She is out of danger!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="indent">And now Dick Edmonstone was being whirled back +to London. Alice was declared out of danger, so he +had come away. Alice was not going to die. Her +young life was spared. Then why was Dick's heart +not filled with joy and thanksgiving? Perhaps it was; +but why did he not show it? He who had been frenzied +by her peril, should have leapt or wept for joy at +her safety. He did neither. He could show no joy. +Why not?</p> + +<p class="indent">Edmonstone arrived in town, and broke his fast +at an hotel—he had travelled all night. After breakfast +he drove, with his luggage, first to the offices of +the P. and O. Company in Leadenhall Street. He +stepped from that office with a brisker air; something +was off his mind; something was definitely settled. +On his way thence to Waterloo he whistled lively +tunes in the cab. By the time he reached Teddington +and Iris Lodge, the jauntiness of his manner was complete. +In fact, his manner was so entirely different +from what his mother and Fanny had been prepared +for, that the good ladies were relieved and delighted +beyond measure for the first few minutes, until a +something in his tone pained them both.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 346]</span> +"Oh yes," he said, carelessly, in answer to their +hushed inquiry, "she is out of danger now, safe +enough. It has been touch and go, though."</p> + +<p class="indent">He might have been speaking of a horse or dog, +and yet have given people the impression that he was +a young man without much feeling.</p> + +<p class="indent">"But—my boy," cried Mrs. Edmonstone, "what +has been the matter with you? We never heard that +you were ill; and you look like a ghost, my poor +Dick!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was standing in rather a swaggering attitude +on the hearthrug. He wheeled round, and looked +at himself in the large glass over the chimneypiece. +His face was haggard and lined, and his expression +just then was not a nice one.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why," he owned, with a grating laugh, "I certainly +don't look very fit, now you mention it, do I? +But it's all on the surface. I'm all right, bless you! +I'm not on speaking terms with the sexton yet, anyway!"</p> + +<p class="indent">A tear stood in each of Mrs. Edmonstone's dark +eyes. Fanny frowned, and beat her foot impatiently +upon the carpet. What had come over Dick?</p> + +<p class="indent">He must have known perfectly well the utter falsity +of the mask he was wearing; if not, self-deception was +one of his accomplishments. Or perhaps those tears +in his mother's eyes caused a pang of shame to shoot +through him. In any case, he made a hasty effort to +change his tone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"How are you two? That is the main point with +me. Bother my seediness!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"We are always well," sighed Mrs. Edmonstone.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 347]</span> +"And Maurice?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Maurice was never brisker."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Lucky dog!" said Dick, involuntarily; and the +bitterness was back in his tone before he knew it.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Your friend Mr. Flint," said Mrs. Edmonstone, +"is Maurice's friend now, and Mr. Flint finds all his +friends in good spirits."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you mean to say old Jack is doing the absentee +landlord altogether? Did he never go back?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes. But he is over again—he is in town just +now," said Mrs. Edmonstone.</p> + +<p class="indent">"He's fast qualifying for buckshot, that fellow," +said Dick, with light irony.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I rather fancy," observed Fanny, with much indifference, +"that you will see him this evening. I half +think he is coming back with Maurice." And Miss +Fanny became profoundly interested in the world out +of the window.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Good!" cried Dick; and there was a ring of sincerity +in that monosyllable which ought to have made +it appreciated—as much as a diamond in a dustheap!</p> + +<p class="indent">In a little while Dick went up to his room. He had +letters to write, he said; but he was heard whistling +and singing as he unpacked his portmanteau. Neither +of the ladies saw much more of him that day. They +sat together in wretched silence; there was some constraint +between them; they felt hurt, but were too +proud to express the feeling even to each other. The +fact was, they did not quite know why they felt hurt. +Dick had greeted them kindly enough—it was only +that there was a something in his manner which they +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 348]</span> +didn't like and could not understand. And so both +these women longed heartily for evening, and the +coming of Maurice and merry Mr. Flint—Fanny, +however, the more heartily of the two.</p> + +<p class="indent">Maurice and Flint did come—in excellent time, +too; and it so happened that when the little table-gong +rang out its silvery call, Mr. Flint and Miss Edmonstone +were still perambulating the dewy, twilit tennis-court. +It further happened, in spite of the last-mentioned +fact, that Miss Fanny contrived to reach the +drawing-room before her mother was finally disentangled +from the wools and needles that beset her at +most hours of the day; that mother and daughter were +the last to enter the little dining-room, hand in hand; +that Miss Fanny looked uncommonly radiant, and +that the usual stupid tears were standing in gentle +Mrs. Edmonstone's soft, loving eyes.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was unusually brilliant in his old place at the +head of the table—so brilliant that his friend Flint +was taken by surprise, and, for his own part, silenced; +though it is true that the latter had something on his +mind which would have made him, in any case, worse +company than usual. Dick rattled on incessantly, +about the dales, and the moors, and the grouse, as +though his stay in Yorkshire was associated with no +tragedy, and no sickness nigh unto death. His mood, +indeed, was not taken up by the others, but he did not +seem to notice or to mind that; only when he was +quiet, all were quiet, and the sudden silences were embarrassing +to all save their prime author.</p> + +<p class="indent">The longest and most awkward of these pauses occurred +while the crumbs were being removed. When +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 349]</span> +the maid had withdrawn, Dick drank of his wine, refilled +his glass, held it daintily by the stem between +finger and thumb, leant back in his chair, and proceeded +deliberately to break the spell.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, speaking the +trite words in the same disagreeable tone that had +pained the ladies that morning, "I am going to make +you a little speech; a very little one, mind, so don't +look uncomfortable—you needn't even feel it."</p> + +<p class="indent">He glanced from one to another of them. They did +look uncomfortable; they felt that somehow Dick was +not himself; they heartily wished he would be quiet. +His manner was not the manner to carry off a sneer +as so much pleasantry.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick continued:</p> + +<p class="indent">"All good things must come to an end, you know—and, +in fact, that's my very original text. Now look at +me, please—mother, look at your sheep that was lost: +thanks. You will, perhaps, agree with me that I'm +hardly the fellow I was when I landed; the fact being +that this beautiful British climate is playing old Harry +with me, and—all good things come to an end. If +I may class myself among the good things for a moment—for +argument's sake—it seems to me that one +good thing will come to an end pretty soon. Look +at me—don't you think so?"</p> + +<p class="indent">The wretched smile that crossed his lean, pale face +was not at variance with his words. He was much +altered. His cheeks were sunken and bloodless, dark +only under the eyes. His eyes to-night were unnaturally +bright. His lips too were bloodless; to-night +they were quivering incessantly. His question +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 350]</span> +was left unanswered, as he meant that it should be. +Flint was trying mentally to compute the quantity of +wine his friend might possibly have taken; the others +could not have spoken at that moment even if they +would.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Now," continued Dick, still toying with his wine, +"the country I left a few months ago never allows a +man to fall into my unhappy plight. It puts a man +in good health at the beginning, and keeps him in it +to the end, somewhere in the nineties. Why, Maurice, +if he went out there, would find that he has never +known what health is! Fanny, we know, is a hardy +plant, and would thrive anywhere; yet she was made +for the life out there, if girl ever was. As for you, +mother, it would clap twenty years on to your dear old +life—no, it would make you twenty years younger. +No one who has once lived there will live anywhere +else. Even old Flint here is dying to go back; he +confessed as much last month. Now what I say is +this: all good things, etcetera—England among them. +Therefore let us all go out there together, and live +happily ever afterwards! Stop; hear me out, all of +you: it's arranged already—I go out first, to stock the +station, and all the rest of it. The fact is, I booked my +passage this morning! Come, you have had good +patience; my speech, like better 'good things,' has +come to an end!"</p> + +<p class="indent">His tone had changed from half-jest to whole +earnest—from earnestness to ardour—from ardour to +something bordering on defiance. But, with the last +word scarcely out of his mouth, he checked himself, +and ejaculated below his breath: "Good heavens!"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 351]</span> +Mrs. Edmonstone had rushed sobbing from the +room.</p> + +<p class="indent">No one followed her. The others stared blankly, +then indignantly, at Dick, in whose face concern began +to show itself. Then young Maurice spoke up.</p> + +<p class="indent">"If I were you," he said hotly to his brother, "I'd +go after her, and tell her you have taken too much +wine, and beg her pardon for making a fool of yourself!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick darted an angry glance at him, but rose and +stalked from the room. In point of fact, the wine had +not had much to do with it—no more and no less than +it has to do with anybody's after-dinner speech. At +the same time, Dick had not been altogether in his +right senses, either then or any time that day. He +found his mother weeping as though her heart would +break; whereat his own heart smote him so that he +came to his senses there and then, and knelt in humility +and shame at her feet.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dearest mother, forgive me!" he murmured +again and again, and took her hand in his and kissed it.</p> + +<p class="indent">"But are you—are you really going back—back +over the seas?" she sobbed.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes. I can't help it, mother! No one knows how +miserable I have been over here. Forgive me—forgive +me—but I can't stay! I can't indeed! But—but +you shall come out too, and the others; and your +life will be happier than it has been for years, once +you are used to it."</p> + +<p class="indent">Mrs. Edmonstone shook her head.</p> + +<p class="indent">"No; it is impossible," she said with sudden decision.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 352]</span> +"How so? Both Fanny and Maurice, once when I +sounded them—"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Fanny will never go, and I cannot leave her."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why? Mother dear, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I mean that your sister is going to be married."</p> + +<p class="indent">Married! The mere word ought not to have cut +him to the heart; yet, in the state that he was in then, +it did. He rose uncertainly to his feet.</p> + +<p class="indent">"You take my breath away, mother! I know of +nothing. Whom is it to?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Can you ask?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I cannot guess."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then it is to your friend, Mr.—no, Jack—Jack +Flint."</p> + +<p class="indent">"God bless old Jack!"</p> + +<p class="indent">That was what Dick said upon the instant. Then +he stood silent. And then—Dick sank into a chair, +and laid his face upon his hands.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I can go out alone," he whispered. "And—and +I wish them joy; from my heart I do! I will go and +tell them so."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 353]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXXIII" id="XXXIII"></a>XXXIII</h2> + +<p class="h2a">HOW DICK SAID GOOD-BYE</p> + +<p class="indent">The month was October; the day Dick's last in +England. Both the day and the month were far spent: +in an hour or two it would be dark, in a week or so +it would be November. This time to-morrow the +R.M.S. Rome, with Dick on board, would be just +clear of the Thames; this time next month she would +be ploughing through the Indian Ocean, with nothing +but Australia to stop her.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Last days," as a rule, are made bearable by that +blessed atmosphere of excitement which accompanies +them, and is deleterious to open sentiment. That excitement, +however, is less due to the mere fact of impending +departure than to the providential provision +of things to be done and seen to at the last moment. +An uncomfortable "rush" is the best of pain-killers +when it comes to long farewells. The work, moreover, +should be for all hands, and last to the very end; +then there is no time for lamentation—no time until +the boxes are out of the hall and the cab has turned +the corner, and the empty, untidy room has to be set +to rights. Then, if you like, is the time for tears.</p> + +<p class="indent">Now Dick had made a great mistake. He had +booked his passage too far in advance. For six weeks +he had nothing to think of but his voyage; nothing to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 354]</span> +do but get ready. Everything was prearranged; nothing, +in this exceptional case, was left to the last, the +very luggage being sent to the boat before the day of +sailing. If Dick had deliberately set himself to deepen +the gloom that shadowed his departure, he could not +have contrived things better. Maurice, for instance, +with great difficulty obtained a holiday from the bank +because it was Dick's last day. He might just as well +have stopped in the City. There was nothing for him +to do. The day wore on in dismal idleness.</p> + +<p class="indent">About three in the afternoon Dick left the house. +He was seen by the others from the front windows. +The sight of him going out without a look or a word +on his last day cut them to the heart, though Dick had +been everything that was kind, and thoughtful, and +affectionate since that evening after his return from +Yorkshire. Besides, the little family was going to be +broken up completely before long: Fanny was to be +married in the spring. No wonder they were sad.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick turned to the right, walked towards the river, +turned to the right again, and so along the London +road towards the village.</p> + +<p class="indent">"It is the right thing," he kept assuring himself, +and with such frequency that one might have supposed +it was the wrong thing; "it is the right thing, after all, +to go and say good-bye. I should have done it before, +and got it over. I was a fool to think of shirking it +altogether; that would have been behaving like a boor. +Well, I'll just go in naturally, say good-bye all +round, stop a few minutes, and then hurry back home. +A month ago I couldn't have trusted myself, but +now——"</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 355]</span> +It was a joyless smile that ended the unspoken sentence. +The last month had certainly strengthened his +self-control; it had also hardened and lined his face +in a way that did not improve his good looks. Yes, +he was pretty safe in trusting himself now.</p> + +<p class="indent">At the corner opposite the low-lying old churchyard +he hesitated. He had hesitated at that corner +once before. He remembered the other occasion with +peculiar vividness to-day. Why should he not repeat +the performance he had gone through then? Why +should he not take a boat and row up to Graysbrooke? +An admirable idea! It harmonised so completely with +his humour. It was the one thing wanting to complete +the satire of his home-coming. That satire had been +so thoroughly bitter that it would be a pity to deny it +a finishing touch or two. Besides, it was so fitting +in every way: the then and the now offered a contrast +that it would be a shame not to make the most of. +Then, thought Dick, his foolish hopes had been as +fresh and young and bright as the June leaves. Look +at his bare heart now! look at the naked trees! Hopes +and leaves had gone the same way—was it the way of +all hopes as well as of all leaves? His mind, as well +as his eye, saw everything in autumnal tints. Nor did +he shirk the view. There is a stage of melancholy that +rather encourages the cruel contrasts of memory.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I'll row up," said Dick, "and go through it all +again. Let it do its worst, it won't touch me now—therefore +nothing will ever touch me as long as I live. +A good test!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He did row up, wearing the same joyless smile.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 356]</span> +He stood the test to perfection.</p> + +<p class="indent">He did not forget to remember anything. He gave +sentimentality a princely chance to play the mischief +with him. It was a rough and gusty day, but mild for +the time of year; a day of neither sunshine nor rain, +but plenty of wind and clouds; one of those blustering +fellows, heralds of Winter, that come and abuse +Autumn for neglecting her business, and tear off the +last of the leaves for her with unseemly violence and +haste. The current was swift and strong, and many a +crisp leaf of crimson and amber and gold sailed down +its broad fretted surface, to be dashed over the weir +and ripped into fragments in the churning froth below.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick rowed into the little inlet with the white bridge +across it, landed, and nodded, in the spirit, to a hundred +spots marked in his mind by the associations of +last June; those of an older day were not thought of. +Here was the place where Alice's boat had been when +he had found her reading a magazine—and interrupted +her reading—on the day after his return. There were +the seven poplars, in whose shadows he had found +Miles on the night of the ball, when the miscreant +Pound came inquiring for him. There was the window +through which he, Dick, had leapt after that final +scene—final in its results—with Alice in the empty +ballroom. A full minute's contemplation and elaborate, +cold-blooded recollection failed to awake one +pang—it may be that, to a certain quality of pain, +Dick's sense had long been deadened. Then he walked +meditatively to the front of the house, and rang the +bell—a thing he was not sure that he had ever done +before at this house.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 357]</span> +Colonel Bristo was out, but Mrs. Parish was in. +Dick would see Mrs. Parish; he would be as civil to +his old enemy as to the rest of them; why not?</p> + +<p class="indent">But Mrs. Parish received him in a wondrous manner; +remorse and apology—nothing less—were in the +tones of her ricketty voice and the grasp of her skinny +hand. The fact was, those weeks in Yorkshire had +left their mark upon the old lady. They had left her +older still, a little less worldly, a little more sensible, +and humbler by the possession of a number of uncomfortable +regrets. She had heard of Dick's probable +return to Australia, long ago; but her information +had been neither definite nor authentic. When he +now told her that he was actually to sail the next day, +the old woman was for the moment visibly affected. +She felt that here there was a new and poignant regret +in store for her—one that would probably haunt her +for the rest of her days. At this rate life would soon +become unbearable. It is a terrible thing to become +suddenly soft-hearted in your old age!</p> + +<p class="indent">"Colonel Bristo is out," said Mrs. Parish, with a +vague feeling that made matters worse. "You will +wait and see him, of course? I am sure he will not +be long; and then, you know, you must say good-bye +to Alice—she will be shocked when you tell her."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Alice?" said Dick, unceremoniously, as became +such a very old friend of the family. "I hope so—yes, +of course. Where is she?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"She is in the dining-room. She spends her days +there."</p> + +<p class="indent">"How is she?" Dick asked, with less indifference +in his manner.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 358]</span> +"Better; but not well enough to stand a long journey, +or else her father would have taken her to the +south of France before this. Come and see her. She +will be so pleased—but so grieved when she hears you +are going out again. I am sure she has no idea of +such a thing. And to-morrow, too!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick followed Mrs. Parish from the room, wishing +in his heart that convalescence was a shorter business, +or else that Alice might have the advantages of climate +that in a few days, and for evermore, would be his; +also speculating as to whether he would find her much +changed, but wishing and wondering without the +slightest ruffling emotion. He had some time ago +pronounced himself a cure. Therefore, of course, he +was cured.</p> + +<p class="indent">There were two fireplaces in the dining-room, one +on each side of the conservatory door. In the grate +nearer the windows, which were all at one end, overlooking +lawn and river, a fire of wood and coal +was burning brightly. In a long low structure of +basketwork—half-sofa, half-chair, such as one mostly +sees on shipboard and in verandahs—propped up by +cushions and wrapped in plaids and woollen clouds, +lay Alice, the convalescent. There was no sign that +she had been reading. She did not look as though +she had been sleeping. If, then, it was her habit +to encourage the exclusive company of her own +thoughts, it is little wonder that she was so long in +parting company with her weakness.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick stood humbly and gravely by the door; a thrill +of sorrow shot through him on seeing her lying there +like that; the sensation was only natural.</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 359]</span> +"Here is Mr. Richard come to—to—to ask you +how you are," stammered poor Mrs. Parish.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice looked up sharply. Mr. Richard crossed the +room and held out his hand with a smile.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I hope from my heart that you are better—that +you will very soon be quite better."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Thank you. It was kind of you to come. Yes, +indeed, I am almost well now. But it has been a long +business."</p> + +<p class="indent">Her voice was weak, and the hand she held out to +him seemed so thin and wasted that he took it as one +would handle a piece of dainty, delicate porcelain. Her +hair, too, was cut short like a boy's. This was as much +as he noticed at the moment. The firelight played so +persistently upon her face that, for aught he could tell, +she might be either pale as death or bathed in blushes. +For the latter, however, he was not in the least on the +look-out.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Won't you sit down?" said Alice. "Papa will +come in presently, and he will be so pleased to see you; +and you will take tea with us. Have you been away?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No," said Dick, feeling awkward because he had +made no inquiries personally since the return of the +Bristos from Yorkshire, now some days back. "But +I have been getting ready to go." He put down his +hat on the red baize cover of the big table, and sat +down a few chairs further from Alice than he need +have done.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What a capital time to go abroad," said Alice, +"just when everything is becoming horrid in England! +We, too, are waiting to go; it is I that am the +stumbling-block."</p> + +<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 360]</span> +So she took it that he was only going on the Continent. +Better enlighten her at once, thought Dick. +Mrs. Parish had disappeared mysteriously from the +room.</p> + +<p class="indent">"This time to-morrow," Dick accordingly said, "I +shall be on board the Rome."</p> + +<p class="indent">The effect of this statement upon Alice was startling.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What!" cried she, raising herself a few inches in +suddenly aroused interest. "Are you going to see +them off?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"See whom off?" Dick was mystified.</p> + +<p class="indent">"My dear good nurse—the first and the best of my +nurses—and her brother the Sergeant."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you mean Compton?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes. They sail in the Rome to-morrow."</p> + +<p class="indent">"So the brother," Dick thought to himself, "is +taking the sister back to her own people, to be welcomed +and forgiven, and to lead a better kind of +life. Poor thing! poor thing! Perhaps her husband's +death was the best thing that could have befallen her. +She will be able to start afresh. She is a widow now."</p> + +<p class="indent">Aloud, he only said: "I am glad—very glad to +hear it."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Did you know," said Alice, seeing that he was +thinking more than he said, "that she was a widow?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," said Dick.</p> + +<p class="indent">It was plain to him that Alice did not know whose +widow the poor woman was. She suspected no sort +of bond between the woman who had nursed her and +the man who had made love to her. She did not know +the baseness of that love on his part. This was as it +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 361]</span> +should be. She must never suspect; she must never, +never know.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Yes," said Dick slowly, "I knew that."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Oh!" cried out Alice. "How dreadful it all was! +How terrible!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ay," said Dick, gravely; "it was that indeed."</p> + +<p class="indent">There was a pause between them. It was Alice +who broke it.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Dick," she said frankly—and honest shame trembled +through her utterance—"I want to ask your pardon +for something—no, you shall not stop me! I +want to tell you that I am sorry for having said something—something +that I just dimly remember saying, +but something that I know was monstrous and inexcusable. +It was just before—but I was accountable +enough to know better. Ah! I see you remember; +indeed, you could never forget—please—please—try +to forgive!"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick felt immensely uneasy.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Say no more, Alice. I deserved it all, and more +besides. I was fearfully at fault. I should never have +approached you as I did, my discovery once made. +I shall never forgive myself for all that has happened. +But he took me in—he took me in, up there, playing +the penitent thief, the—poor fellow!"</p> + +<p class="indent">His voice dropped, his tone changed: many things +came back to him in a rush.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Papa has told me the whole history of the relations +between you," Alice said quietly, "and we think +you behaved nobly."</p> + +<p class="indent">"There was precious little nobility in it," Dick said +grimly. Nor was there any mock modesty in this. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 362]</span> +He knew too well that he had done nothing to be +proud of.</p> + +<p class="indent">There was another pause. Dick broke this one.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Forgive me," he said, "if I refer to anything very +painful, but I am going away to-morrow, and—there +was something else you said, just after you administered +that just rebuke to me. You said you would +tell us what Miles had said to you. Now I do not +mean it as presumption, but we are old friends"—she +winced—"and I have rather suspected that he made +some confession to you which he never made to anyone +else. There was a lot of gold——"</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice interrupted him in a low voice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I would rather not tell you what he said; it was +nothing to do with anything of that kind."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick's question had not been unpremeditated. He +had had his own conviction as to the "confession" +Alice had listened to; he only wanted that conviction +confirmed. Now, by her hesitation and her refusal +to answer, it was confirmed. Miles had proposed marriage +on the way from Melmerbridge Church, and +been accepted! Well, it was a satisfaction to have +that put beyond doubt. He had put his question in +rather an underhand way, but how was he to do otherwise? +He had got his answer; the end justified the +means.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Pray don't say another word," said Dick impulsively. +"Forgive me for prying. Perhaps I can +guess what he said."</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice darted at him a swift glance, and saw his +meaning in a flash.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do not get up," said she quietly, for Dick was +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 363]</span> +rising to go. "Since it is possible that you may guess +wrong, I will tell you all. I insist in telling you all! +Here, then, are the facts: Mr. Miles scarcely spoke +a word on the way from church, until suddenly, when +we were almost in sight of home, he—he caught hold +of my hand."</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick knew that already. He was also quite sure +that he knew what was coming. It was no use Alice +going on; he could see that she was nervous and uncomfortable +over it; he reproached himself furiously +for making her so; he made a genuine effort to prevail +upon her to say no more. In vain; for now Alice was +determined. Seeing that it was so, he got up from +his chair and walked over to the windows, and watched +the brown leaves being whisked about the lawn and +the sky overhead turning a deeper grey.</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice continued in a voice that was firm for all its +faintness:</p> + +<p class="indent">"I suppose I looked surprised, and taken aback, and +indignant, but he held my hand as if his was a vice, +and still we walked on. Then I looked at him, and he +was pale. Then he stared down upon me, closely and +long, as if he meant to read my soul, and a great shudder +seemed to pass through him. He almost flung +my hand away from him, and faced me in the road. +We were then on that little bridge between two hills, +not far from the shooting-box: you will remember it. +'Miss Alice,' he said, 'I am a villain! a scoundrel! an +impostor. I have never been fit to speak to you, and +I have dared to take your hand. But I find I am a +shade less black than I thought myself a minute ago; +for what I meant to say to you I would not say now to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 364]</span> +save my soul, if I had one! Good-bye; you will see +no more of me. Whatever you may one day hear of +me—and you must believe it all, for it is every word +true—remember this: that, bad as I still am, I am less +bad than I was before I knew you, and I have found +it out this instant. Go, leave me, run home; you shall +never see me again. I shall go at once from this place, +and I leave England in two days. Do you hear? Go, +leave me alone—go! And God go with you!' His +voice was breaking, his wild looks frightened me, but +I answered him. I had my suspicions, as I told him, +but I did not tell him that you put them into my head. +What I did say to him was this: 'Whatever you have +done, whatever you may do, you did one thing once +that can never, never grow less in my eyes!' I meant +his saving of my father's life; and with that I ran away +from him and never looked round. That is every +word that passed. I can never forget them. As to +what happened afterwards, you know more than I."</p> + +<p class="indent">Alice's own voice shook; it was hollow, and hoarse, +and scarcely audible at the end. As for Dick, he stood +looking out of the window at the whirling leaves, with +not a word to say, until an involuntary murmur escaped +him.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Poor Miles!"</p> + +<p class="indent">The girl's answer was a low sob.</p> + +<p class="indent">Then here was the truth at last. The innocence +and purity of the young English girl had awed and +appalled that bold, desperate, unscrupulous man at +the last moment. On the brink of the worst of all his +crimes his nerve had failed him, or, to do him better +justice, his heart had smitten him. Yes, it must have +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 365]</span> +been this, for the poor fellow loved her well. His +last thought was of her, his last, dying effort was for +her, his life's blood ran out of him in her service!</p> + +<p class="indent">But Alice! Had she not loved him when he spoke? +Had she not given her heart to him in the beginning? +Had she not tacitly admitted as much in this very +room? Then her heart must be his still; her heart +must be his for ever—dead or living, false or true, villain +or hero. Poor Alice! What a terrible thing for +a girl to have so misplaced her love. Dick felt his +heart bleeding for her, but what could he do? He +could do nothing but go back to Australia, and pray +that some day she might get over it and be consoled. +Now that he thought of it, he had not told her about +Australia. He had tried twice, and each time been interrupted. +It must be done now.</p> + +<p class="indent">"By-the-bye," he began (it was after a long silence, +and the room was filled with dusk, and the fire burning +low), "I didn't tell you, after all, how it is that I shall +be aboard the Rome this time to-morrow. It is not +to see off Compton and his sister, because until you +told me I didn't know they were going. Can't you +guess the reason?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No!"</p> + +<p class="indent">What could be the meaning of that quick gasp from +the other side of the room that preceded the faint +monosyllable?</p> + +<p class="indent">"I will tell you: it is because I sail for Australia +myself to-morrow! I am going back to the bush."</p> + +<p class="indent">There was a slight shiver of the basketwork chair. +Then all was still; and Dick watched evening gather +over the flat Ham fields across the river. The next +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 366]</span> +tones from near the fireplace had a steely ring about +them.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Why are you going back?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Because I have found England intolerable."</p> + +<p class="indent">"I thought you were going to get on so well in +England?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"So did I."</p> + +<p class="indent">Another silence. Dick drummed idly upon the +pane with his fingers. There was certainly a degree +of regret in Alice's tone—enough to afford him a +vague sense of gratitude to her.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Is it not a terrible disappointment to your family?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"I suppose it is," said Dick uneasily.</p> + +<p class="indent">"And can you lightly grieve those who love you?"</p> + +<p class="indent">She spoke as earnestly as though she belonged to +that number herself; but, thought Dick, that must be +from the force of her woman's sympathy for women. +There was a slight catch in her voice, doubtless from +the same cause. Could it be from any other cause? +Dick trembled in the dusk by the window at the +thought. No; it could not be. No; he did not wish +it. He would not have her relent now. It was too +late. He had set his mind on going; his passage was +booked, his luggage was on board; nothing could unsettle +him now. Was it not admitted in the beginning +that he was an obstinate fellow? Besides, hope had +been out of the range of his vision these many weeks. +When a faint spark of hope burned on the horizon, was +it natural that he should detect it at once? Yet her +tones made him tremble.</p> + +<p class="indent">As for Alice, her heart was beating with wild, sickening +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 367]</span> +thuds. She felt that she was receiving her just +deserts. Dick was as cold to her now as she had been +cold to Dick before; only far colder, for she had but +been trying him. Ah! but Nemesis was cruel in her +justice! And she, Alice, so faint, so weary, so heartsick, +so loveless, so full of remorse, so ready to love! +And this the last chance of all!</p> + +<p class="indent">"Is there nothing that could stop you from going +now?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nothing."</p> + +<p class="indent">"Nothing at all?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"No consideration upon earth!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"Ah, you have taken your passage!"</p> + +<p class="indent">"That's not it!"</p> + +<p class="indent">He was indignant. A paltry seventy guineas!</p> + +<p class="indent">"Then what is? It must be that you've made up +your mind, and would not unmake it—no matter who +asked you."</p> + +<p class="indent">The slightest stress imaginable was laid upon the +relative.</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick was leaning against the window-ledge for support. +His brain was whirling. He could scarcely believe +his ears. There was a tearful tenderness in her +voice which he could not, which he dared not understand.</p> + +<p class="indent">"What do you mean?" he asked hoarsely.</p> + +<p class="indent">"I mean that—that you—that I——"</p> + +<p class="indent">The words ended in inarticulate sobs.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you mean that you ask me to stay in England?"</p> + +<p class="indent">Dick put this question in a voice that was absolutely +stern, though it quivered with suppressed agitation. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 368]</span> +There was no answer: sobs were no answer. He +crossed the room unsteadily, fell on his knees at her +side, and took both her hands in his. Then he repeated +the same question—in the same words, in the same +tones.</p> + +<p class="indent">The answer came in a trembling whisper, with a +fresh torrent of tears:</p> + +<p class="indent">"What if I did?"</p> + +<p class="indent">"The Rome might sail without me."</p> + +<p class="indent">A tearful incredulous smile from Alice.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Do you tell me to stay? I stay or go at your bidding. +Darling! you know what that means to us +two?"</p> + +<p class="indent">No answer.</p> + +<p class="indent">"Speak! Speak, Alice, for I cannot bear this! +The Rome would sail without me!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="indent">Alice did speak. The Rome did sail without him.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<div class="tnote"> +<h2>Transcriber's Notes:</h2> + +<hr /> + +<p class="indent">Inconsistencies in hyphenation were not corrected.</p> + +<p class="indent">In the original book, sometimes the first words of each chapter were in small caps and sometimes they were not. That inconsistency was preserved in this version.</p> + +<p class="indent">On page 8, the quotation mark was deleted after "on this side +of the road."</p> + +<p class="indent">On page 68, the word "looee" was replaced with "cooee".</p> + +<p class="indent">On page 92, a quotation mark was placed after "deducted +from your allowance this evening."</p> + +<p class="indent">On page 158, "not this young follow" was replaced with +"not this young fellow".</p> + +<p class="indent">On page 168, "bunshrangers" was replaced with "bushrangers".</p> + +<p class="indent">On page 184, a quotation mark was added after "and the older +suitor."</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of At Large, by E. W. 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