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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3832-h.zip b/3832-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b105080 --- /dev/null +++ b/3832-h.zip diff --git a/3832-h/3832-h.htm b/3832-h/3832-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..359f88e --- /dev/null +++ b/3832-h/3832-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,20650 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Australia Felix, by Henry Handel Richardson +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Australia Felix, by Henry Handel Richardson + +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: Australia Felix + +Author: Henry Handel Richardson + +Posting Date: June 20, 2009 [EBook #3832] +Release Date: February, 2003 +First Posted: October 1, 2001 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUSTRALIA FELIX *** + + + + +Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +Australia Felix +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Henry Handel Richardson +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" COLSPAN="6"><B>Part I</B></TD> +</TR> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0101"> I</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0102"> II</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0103"> III</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0104"> IV</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0105"> V</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0106"> VI</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0107"> VII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0108"> VIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0109"> IX</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" COLSPAN="6"><B>Part II</B></TD> +</TR> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0201"> I</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0202"> II</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0203"> III</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0204"> IV</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0205"> V</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0206"> VI</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0207"> VII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0208"> VIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" COLSPAN="6"><B>Part III</B></TD> +</TR> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0301"> I</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0302"> II</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0303"> III</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0304"> IV</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0305"> V</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0306"> VI</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0307"> VII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0308"> VIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0309"> IX</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0310"> X</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0311"> XI</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="center" VALIGN="top" COLSPAN="6"><B>Part IV</B></TD> +</TR> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0401"> I</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0402"> II</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0403"> III</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0404"> IV</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0405"> V</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap0406"> VI</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0407"> VII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0408"> VIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0409"> IX</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0410"> X</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0411"> XI</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0412"> XII</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PROEM +</H3> + +<P> +In a shaft on the Gravel Pits, a man had been buried alive. At work in +a deep wet hole, he had recklessly omitted to slab the walls of a +drive; uprights and tailors yielded under the lateral pressure, and the +rotten earth collapsed, bringing down the roof in its train. The digger +fell forward on his face, his ribs jammed across his pick, his arms +pinned to his sides, nose and mouth pressed into the sticky mud as into +a mask; and over his defenceless body, with a roar that burst his +ear-drums, broke stupendous masses of earth. +</P> + +<P> +His mates at the windlass went staggering back from the belch of +violently discharged air: it tore the wind-sail to strips, sent stones +and gravel flying, loosened planks and props. Their shouts drawing no +response, the younger and nimbler of the two—he was a mere boy, for +all his amazing growth of beard—put his foot in the bucket and went +down on the rope, kicking off the sides of the shaft with his free +foot. A group of diggers, gathering round the pit-head, waited for the +tug at the rope. It was quick in coming; and the lad was hauled to the +surface. No hope: both drives had fallen in; the bottom of the shaft +was blocked. The crowd melted with a "Poor Bill—God rest his soul!" or +with a silent shrug. Such accidents were not infrequent; each man might +thank his stars it was not he who lay cooling down below. And so, since +no more washdirt would be raised from this hole, the party that worked +it made off for the nearest grog-shop, to wet their throats to the +memory of the dead, and to discuss future plans. +</P> + +<P> +All but one: a lean and haggard-looking man of some five and forty, who +was known to his comrades as Long Jim. On hearing his mate's report he +had sunk heavily down on a log, and there he sat, a pannikin of raw +spirit in his hand, the tears coursing ruts down cheeks scabby with +yellow mud, his eyes glassy as marbles with those that had still to +fall. +</P> + +<P> +He wept, not for the dead man, but for himself. This accident was the +last link in a chain of ill-luck that had been forging ever since he +first followed the diggings. He only needed to put his hand to a thing, +and luck deserted it. In all the sinkings he had been connected with, +he had not once caught his pick in a nugget or got the run of the +gutter; the "bottoms" had always proved barren, drives been exhausted +without his raising the colour. At the present claim he and his mates +had toiled for months, overcoming one difficulty after another. The +slabbing, for instance, had cost them infinite trouble; it was roughly +done, too, and, even after the pins were in, great flakes of earth +would come tumbling down from between the joints, on one occasion +nearly knocking silly the man who was below. Then, before they had +slabbed a depth of three times nine, they had got into water, and in +this they worked for the next sixty feet. They were barely rid of it, +when the two adjoining claims were abandoned, and in came the flood +again—this time they had to fly for their lives before it, so rapid +was its rise. Not the strongest man could stand in this ice-cold water +for more than three days on end—the bark slabs stank in it, too, like +the skins in a tanner's yard—and they had been forced to quit work +till it subsided. He and another man had gone to the hills, to hew +trees for more slabs; the rest to the grog-shop. From there, when it +was feasible to make a fresh start, they had to be dragged, some blind +drunk, the rest blind stupid from their booze. That had been the +hardest job of any: keeping the party together. They had only been +eight in all—a hand-to-mouth number for a deep wet hole. Then, one had +died of dysentery, contracted from working constantly in water up to +his middle; another had been nabbed in a manhunt and clapped into the +"logs." And finally, but a day or two back, the three men who completed +the nightshift had deserted for a new "rush" to the Avoca. Now, his pal +had gone, too. There was nothing left for him, Long Jim, to do, but to +take his dish and turn fossicker; or even to aim no higher than washing +over the tailings rejected by the fossicker. +</P> + +<P> +At the thought his tears flowed anew. He cursed the day on which he had +first set foot on Ballarat. +</P> + +<P> +"It's 'ell for white men—'ell, that's what it is!" +</P> + +<P> +"'Ere, 'ave another drink, matey, and fergit yer bloody troubles." +</P> + +<P> +His re-filled pannikin drained, he grew warmer round the heart; and +sang the praises of his former life. He had been a lamplighter in the +old country, and for many years had known no more arduous task than +that of tramping round certain streets three times daily, ladder on +shoulder, bitch at heel, to attend the little flames that helped to +dispel the London dark. And he might have jogged on at this up to three +score years and ten, had he never lent an ear to the tales that were +being told of a wonderful country, where, for the mere act of stooping, +and with your naked hand, you could pick up a fortune from the ground. +Might the rogues who had spread these lies be damned to all eternity! +Then, he had swallowed them only too willingly; and, leaving the old +woman wringing her hands, had taken every farthing of his savings and +set sail for Australia. That was close on three years ago. For all he +knew, his wife might be dead and buried by this time; or sitting in the +almshouse. She could not write, and only in the early days had an +occasional newspaper reached him, on which, alongside the Queen's head, +she had put the mark they had agreed on, to show that she was still +alive. He would probably never see her again, but would end his days +where he was. Well, they wouldn't be many; this was not a place that +made old bones. And, as he sat, worked on by grief and liquor, he was +seized by a desperate homesickness for the old country. Why had he ever +been fool enough to leave it? He shut his eyes, and all the well-known +sights and sounds of the familiar streets came back to him. He saw +himself on his rounds of a winter's afternoon, when each lamp had a +halo in the foggy air; heard the pit-pat of his four-footer behind him, +the bump of the ladder against the prong of the lamp-post. His friend +the policeman's glazed stovepipe shone out at the corner; from the +distance came the tinkle of the muffin-man's bell, the cries of the +buy-a-brooms. He remembered the glowing charcoal in the stoves of the +chestnut and potato sellers; the appetising smell of the cooked-fish +shops; the fragrant steam of the hot, dark coffee at the twopenny +stall, when he had turned shivering out of bed; he sighed for the +lights and jollity of the "Hare and Hounds" on a Saturday night. He +would never see anything of the kind again. No; here, under bare blue +skies, out of which the sun frizzled you alive; here, where it couldn't +rain without at once being a flood; where the very winds blew +contrarily, hot from the north and bitter-chill from the south; where, +no matter how great the heat by day, the night would as likely as not +be nipping cold: here he was doomed to end his life, and to end it, for +all the yellow sunshine, more hopelessly knotted and gnarled with +rheumatism than if, dawn after dawn, he had gone out in a cutting +north-easter, or groped his way through the grey fog-mists sent up by +grey Thames. +</P> + +<P> +Thus he sat and brooded, all the hatred of the unwilling exile for the +land that gives him house-room burning in his breast. +</P> + +<P> +Who the man was, who now lay deep in a grave that fitted him as a glove +fits the hand, careless of the pass to which he had brought his mate; +who this really was, Long Jim knew no more than the rest. Young Bill +had never spoken out. They had chummed together on the seventy-odd-mile +tramp from Melbourne; had boiled a common billy and slept side by side +in rain-soaked blankets, under the scanty hair of a she-oak. That was +in the days of the first great stampede to the goldfields, when the +embryo seaports were as empty as though they were plague-ridden, and +every man who had the use of his legs was on the wide bush-track, bound +for the north. It was better to be two than one in this medley of +bullock-teams, lorries, carts and pack-horses, of dog-teams, +wheelbarrows and swagmen, where the air rang with oaths, shouts and +hammering hoofs, with whip-cracking and bullock-prodding; in this +hurly-burly of thieves, bushrangers and foreigners, of drunken convicts +and deserting sailors, of slit-eyed Chinese and apt-handed Lascars, of +expirees and ticket-of-leave men, of Jews, Turks and other infidels. +Long Jim, himself stunned by it all: by the pother of landing and of +finding a roof to cover him; by the ruinous price of bare necessaries; +by the length of this unheard-of walk that lay before his town-bred +feet: Long Jim had gladly accepted the young man's company on the road. +Originally, for no more than this; at heart he distrusted Young Bill, +because of his fine-gentleman airs, and intended shaking the lad off as +soon as they reached the diggings. There, a man must, for safety's +sake, be alone, when he stooped to pick up his fortune. But at first +sight of the strange, wild scene that met his eyes he hastily changed +his mind. And so the two of them had stuck together; and he had never +had cause to regret it. For all his lily-white hands and finical speech +Young Bill had worked like a nigger, standing by his mate through the +latter's disasters; had worked till the ladyish hands were horny with +warts and corns, and this, though he was doubled up with dysentery in +the hot season, and racked by winter cramps. But the life had proved +too hard for him, all the same. During the previous summer he had begun +to drink—steadily, with the dogged persistence that was in him—and +since then his work had gone downhill. His sudden death had only been a +hastening-on of the inevitable. Staggering home to the tent after +nightfall he would have been sure, sooner or later, to fall into a dry +shicer and break his neck, or into a wet one and be drowned. +</P> + +<P> +On the surface of the Gravel Pit his fate was already forgotten. The +rude activity of a gold-diggings in full swing had closed over the +incident, swallowed it up. +</P> + +<P> +Under a sky so pure and luminous that it seemed like a thinly drawn +veil of blueness, which ought to have been transparent, stretched what, +from a short way off, resembled a desert of pale clay. No patch of +green offered rest to the eye; not a tree, hardly a stunted bush had +been left standing, either on the bottom of the vast shallow basin +itself, or on the several hillocks that dotted it and formed its sides. +Even the most prominent of these, the Black Hill, which jutted out on +the Flat like a gigantic tumulus, had been stripped of its dense +timber, feverishly disembowelled, and was now become a bald +protuberance strewn with gravel and clay. The whole scene had that +strange, repellent ugliness that goes with breaking up and throwing +into disorder what has been sanctified as final, and belongs, in +particular, to the wanton disturbing of earth's gracious, green-spread +crust. In the pre-golden era this wide valley, lying open to sun and +wind, had been a lovely grassland, ringed by a circlet of wooded hills; +beyond these, by a belt of virgin forest. A limpid river and more than +one creek had meandered across its face; water was to be found there +even in the driest summer. She-oaks and peppermint had given shade to +the flocks of the early settlers; wattles had bloomed their brief +delirious yellow passion against the grey-green foliage of the gums. +Now, all that was left of the original "pleasant resting-place" and its +pristine beauty were the ancient volcanic cones of Warrenheip and +Buninyong. These, too far off to supply wood for firing or slabbing, +still stood green and timbered, and looked down upon the havoc that had +been made of the fair, pastoral lands. +</P> + +<P> +Seen nearer at hand, the dun-coloured desert resolved itself into +uncountable pimpling clay and mud-heaps, of divers shade and varying +sizes: some consisted of but a few bucketfuls of mullock, others were +taller than the tallest man. There were also hundreds of rain-soaked, +mud-bespattered tents, sheds and awnings; wind-sails, which fell, +funnel-like, from a kind of gallows into the shafts they ventilated; +flags fluttering on high posts in front of stores. The many human +figures that went to and fro were hardly to be distinguished from the +ground they trod. They were coated with earth, clay-clad in ochre and +gamboge. Their faces were daubed with clauber; it matted great beards, +and entangled the coarse hairs on chests and brawny arms. Where, here +and there, a blue jumper had kept a tinge of blueness, it was so +besmeared with yellow that it might have been expected to turn green. +The gauze neck-veils that hung from the brims of wide-awakes or +cabbage-trees were become stiff little lattices of caked clay. +</P> + +<P> +There was water everywhere. From the spurs and gullies round about, the +autumn rains had poured freely down on the Flat; river and creeks had +been over their banks; and such narrow ground-space as remained between +the thick-sown tents, the myriads of holes that abutted one on another, +jealous of every inch of space, had become a trough of mud. Water +meandered over this mud, or carved its soft way in channels; it lay +about in puddles, thick and dark as coffee-grounds; it filled abandoned +shallow holes to the brim. +</P> + +<P> +From this scene rose a blurred hum of sound; rose and as it were +remained stationary above it—like a smoke-cloud, which no wind comes +to drive away. Gradually, though, the ear made out, in the conglomerate +of noise, a host of separate noises infinitely multiplied: the sharp +tick-tick of surface-picks, the dull thud of shovels, their muffled +echoes from the depths below. There was also the continuous squeak and +groan of windlasses; the bump of the mullock emptied from the bucket; +the trundle of wheelbarrows, pushed along a plank from the shaft's +mouth to the nearest pool; the dump of the dart on the heap for +washing. Along the banks of a creek, hundreds of cradles rattled and +grated; the noise of the spades, chopping the gravel into the +puddling-tubs or the Long Toms, was like the scrunch of shingle under +waves. The fierce yelping of the dogs chained to the flag-posts of +stores, mongrels which yapped at friend and foe alike, supplied a note +of earsplitting discord. +</P> + +<P> +But except for this it was a wholly mechanical din. Human brains +directed operations, human hands carried them out, but the sound of the +human voice was, for the most part, lacking. The diggers were a sombre, +preoccupied race, little given to lip-work. Even the "shepherds," who, +in waiting to see if their neighbours struck the lead, beguiled the +time with euchre and "lambskinnet," played moodily, their mouths glued +to their pipe-stems; they were tail-on-end to fling down the cards for +pick and shovel. The great majority, ant-like in their indefatigable +busyness, neither turned a head nor looked up: backs were bent, eyes +fixed, in a hard scrutiny of cradle or tin-dish: it was the earth that +held them, the familiar, homely earth, whose common fate it is to be +trodden heedlessly underfoot. Here, it was the loadstone that drew all +men's thoughts. And it took toll of their bodies in odd, exhausting +forms of labour, which were swift to weed out the unfit. +</P> + +<P> +The men at the windlasses spat into their horny palms and bent to the +crank: they paused only to pass the back of a hand over a sweaty +forehead, or to drain a nose between two fingers. The barrow-drivers +shoved their loads, the bones of their forearms standing out like ribs. +Beside the pools, the puddlers chopped with their shovels; some even +stood in the tubs, and worked the earth with their feet, as +wine-pressers trample grapes. The cradlers, eternally rocking with one +hand, held a long stick in the other with which to break up any clods a +careless puddler might have deposited in the hopper. Behind these came +the great army of fossickers, washers of surface-dirt, equipped with +knives and tin-dishes, and content if they could wash out +half-a-pennyweight to the dish. At their heels still others, who +treated the tailings they threw away. And among these last was a +sprinkling of women, more than one with an infant sucking at her +breast. Withdrawn into a group for themselves worked a body of Chinese, +in loose blue blouses, flappy blue leg-bags and huge conical straw +hats. They, too, fossicked and re-washed, using extravagant quantities +of water. +</P> + +<P> +Thus the pale-eyed multitude worried the surface, and, at the risk and +cost of their lives, probed the depths. Now that deep sinking was in +vogue, gold-digging no longer served as a play-game for the gentleman +and the amateur; the greater number of those who toiled at it were +work-tried, seasoned men. And yet, although it had now sunk to the +level of any other arduous and uncertain occupation, and the magic +prizes of the early days were seldom found, something of the old, +romantic glamour still clung to this most famous gold-field, dazzling +the eyes and confounding the judgment. Elsewhere, the horse was in use +at the puddling-trough, and machines for crushing quartz were under +discussion. But the Ballarat digger resisted the introduction of +machinery, fearing the capitalist machinery would bring in its train. +He remained the dreamer, the jealous individualist; he hovered for ever +on the brink of a stupendous discovery. +</P> + +<P> +This dream it was, of vast wealth got without exertion, which had +decoyed the strange, motley crowd, in which peers and churchmen rubbed +shoulders with the scum of Norfolk Island, to exile in this outlandish +region. And the intention of all alike had been: to snatch a golden +fortune from the earth and then, hey, presto! for the old world again. +But they were reckoning without their host: only too many of those who +entered the country went out no more. They became prisoners to the +soil. The fabulous riches of which they had heard tell amounted, at +best, to a few thousands of pounds: what folly to depart with so +little, when mother earth still teemed! Those who drew blanks nursed an +unquenchable hope, and laboured all their days like navvies, for a +navvy's wage. Others again, broken in health or disheartened, could +only turn to an easier handiwork. There were also men who, as soon as +fortune smiled on them, dropped their tools and ran to squander the +work of months in a wild debauch; and they invariably returned, tail +down, to prove their luck anew. And, yet again, there were those who, +having once seen the metal in the raw: in dust, fine as that brushed +from a butterfly's wing; in heavy, chubby nuggets; or, more exquisite +still, as the daffodil-yellow veining of bluish-white quartz: these +were gripped in the subtlest way of all. A passion for the gold itself +awoke in them an almost sensual craving to touch and possess; and the +glitter of a few specks at the bottom of pan or cradle came, in time, +to mean more to them than "home," or wife, or child. +</P> + +<P> +Such were the fates of those who succumbed to the "unholy hunger." It +was like a form of revenge taken on them, for their loveless schemes of +robbing and fleeing; a revenge contrived by the ancient, barbaric +country they had so lightly invaded. Now, she held them +captive—without chains; ensorcelled—without witchcraft; and, lying +stretched like some primeval monster in the sun, her breasts freely +bared, she watched, with a malignant eye, the efforts made by these +puny mortals to tear their lips away. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0101"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Part I +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter I +</H3> + +<P> +On the summit of one of the clay heaps, a woman shot into silhouette +against the sky. An odd figure, clad in a skimpy green petticoat, with +a scarlet shawl held about her shoulders, wisps of frowsy red hair +standing out round her head, she balanced herself on the slippery +earth, spinning her arm like the vane of a windmill, and crying at the +top of her voice: "Joe, boys!—Joe, Joe, Joey!" +</P> + +<P> +It was as if, with these words, she had dropped a live shell in the +diggers' midst. A general stampede ensued; in which the cry was caught +up, echoed and re-echoed, till the whole Flat rang with the name of +"Joe." Tools were dropped, cradles and tubs abandoned, windlasses left +to kick their cranks backwards. Many of the workers took to their +heels; others, in affright, scuttled aimlessly hither and thither, like +barnyard fowls in a panic. Summoned by shouts of: "Up with you, +boys!—the traps are here!" numbers ascended from below to see the fun, +while as many went hurriedly down to hiding in drive or chamber. Even +those diggers who could pat the pocket in which their licence lay +ceased work, and stood about with sullen faces to view the course of +events. Only the group of Chinamen washing tail-heaps remained unmoved. +One of them, to whom the warning woman belonged, raised his head and +called a Chinese word at her; she obeyed it instantly, vanished into +thin air; the rest went impassively on with their fossicking. They were +not such fools as to try to cheat the Government of its righteous dues. +None but had his licence safely folded in his nosecloth, and thrust +inside the bosom of his blouse. +</P> + +<P> +Through the labyrinth of tents and mounds, a gold-laced cap could be +seen approaching; then a gold-tressed jacket came into view, the white +star on the forehead of a mare. Behind the Commissioner, who rode down +thus from the Camp, came the members of his staff; these again were +followed by a body of mounted troopers. They drew rein on the slope, +and simultaneously a line of foot police, backed by a detachment of +light infantry, shot out like an arm, and walled in the Flat to the +south. +</P> + +<P> +On the appearance of the enemy the babel redoubled. There were groans +and cat-calls. Along with the derisive "Joeys!" the rebel diggers +hurled any term of abuse that came to their lips. +</P> + +<P> +"The dolly mops! The skunks! The bushrangers!—Oh, damn 'em, damn 'em! +... damn their bloody eyes!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's Rooshia—that's what it is!" said an oldish man darkly. +</P> + +<P> +The Commissioner, a horse-faced, solemn man with brown side whiskers, +let the reins droop on his mare's neck and sat unwinking in the tumult. +His mien was copied by his staff. Only one of them, a very young boy +who was new to the colony and his post, changed colour under his gaudy +cap, went from white to pink and from pink to white again; while at +each fresh insult he gave a perceptible start, and gazed dumbfounded at +his chief's insensitive back. +</P> + +<P> +The "bloodhounds" had begun to track their prey. Rounding up, with a +skill born of long practice, they drove the diggers before them towards +the centre of the Flat. Here they passed from group to group and from +hole to hole, calling for the production of licences with an insolence +that made its object see red. They were nice of scent, too, and, nine +times in ten, pounced on just those unfortunates who, through +carelessness, or lack of means, or on political grounds, had failed to +take out the month's licence to dig for gold. Every few minutes one or +another was marched off between two constables to the Government Camp, +for fine or imprisonment. +</P> + +<P> +Now it was that it suddenly entered Long Jim's head to cut and run. Up +till now he had stood declaring himself a free-born Briton, who might +be drawn and quartered if he ever again paid the blasted tax. But, as +the police came closer, a spear of fright pierced his befuddled brain, +and inside a breath he was off and away. Had the abruptness of his +start not given him a slight advantage, he would have been caught at +once. As it was, the chase would not be a long one; the clumsy, +stiff-jointed man slithered here and stuck fast there, dodging +obstacles with an awkwardness that was painful to see. He could be +heard sobbing and cursing as he ran. +</P> + +<P> +At this point the Commissioner, half turning, signed to the troopers in +his rear. Six or seven of them shook up their bridles and rode off, +their scabbards clinking, to prevent the fugitive's escape. +</P> + +<P> +A howl of contempt went up from the crowd. The pink and white subaltern +made what was almost a movement of the arm to intercept his superior's +command. +</P> + +<P> +It was too much for Long Jim's last mate, the youthful blackbeard who +had pluckily descended the shaft after the accident. He had been +standing on a mound with a posse of others, following the man-hunt. At +his partner's crack-brained dash for the open, his snorts of +indignation found words. "Gaw-blimy! ... is the old fool gone dotty?" +Then he drew a whistling breath. "No, it's more than flesh and blood +.... Stand back, boys!" And though he was as little burdened with a +licence as the man under pursuit, he shouted: "Help, help! ... for +God's sake, don't let 'em have me!" shot down the slope, and was off +like the wind. +</P> + +<P> +His foxly object was attained. The attention of the hunters was +diverted. Long Jim, seizing the moment, vanished underground. +</P> + +<P> +The younger man ran with the lightness of a hare. He had also the +hare's address in doubling and turning. His pursuers never knew, did he +pass from sight behind a covert of tents and mounds, where he would bob +up next. He avoided shafts and pools as if by a miracle; ran along +greasy planks without a slip; and, where these had been removed to balk +the police, he jumped the holes, taking risks that were not for a sane +man. Once he fell, but, enslimed from head to foot, wringing wet and +hatless, was up again in a twinkling. His enemies were less sure-footed +than he, and times without number measured their length on the oily +ground. Still, one of them was gaining rapidly on him, a giant of a +fellow with long thin legs; and soon the constable's foot filled the +prints left by the young man's, while these were still warm. It was a +fine run. The diggers trooped after in a body; the Flat rang with +cheers and plaudits. Even the Commissioner and his retinue trotted in +the same direction. Eventually the runaway must land in the arms of the +mounted police. +</P> + +<P> +But this was not his plan. Making as though he headed for the open, he +suddenly dashed off at right angles, and, with a final sprint, brought +up dead against a log-and-canvas store which stood on rising ground. +His adversary was so close behind that a collision resulted; the +digger's feet slid from under him, he fell on his face, the other on +top. In their fall they struck a huge pillar of tin-dishes, ingeniously +built up to the height of the store itself. This toppled over with a +crash, and the dishes went rolling down the slope between the legs of +the police. The dog chained to the flagstaff all but strangled himself +in his rage and excitement; and the owner of the store came running out. +</P> + +<P> +"Purdy! ... you! What in the name of ...?" +</P> + +<P> +The digger adroitly rolled his captor over, and there they both sat, +side by side on the ground, one gripping the other's collar, both too +blown to speak. A cordon of puffing constables hemmed them in. +</P> + +<P> +The storekeeper frowned. "You've no licence, you young beggar!" +</P> + +<P> +And: "Your licence, you scoundrel!" demanded the leader of the troop. +</P> + +<P> +The prisoner's rejoinder was a saucy: "Now then, out with the cuffs, +Joe!" +</P> + +<P> +He got on his feet as bidden; but awkwardly, for it appeared that in +falling he had hurt his ankle. Behind the police were massed the +diggers. These opened a narrow alley for the Camp officials to ride +through, but their attitude was hostile, and there were cries of: +"Leave 'im go, yer blackguards! ... after sich a run! None o yer bloody +quod for 'im!" along with other, more threatening expressions. Sombre +and taciturn, the Commissioner waved his hand. "Take him away!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, so long, Dick!" said the culprit jauntily; and, as he offered +his wrists to be handcuffed, he whistled an air. +</P> + +<P> +Here the storekeeper hurriedly interposed: "No, stop! I'll give bail." +And darting into the tent and out again, he counted five one-pound +notes into the constable's palm. The lad's collar was released; and a +murmur of satisfaction mounted from the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +At the sound the giver made as if to retire. Then, yielding to a second +thought, he stepped forward and saluted the Commissioner. "A young +hot-head, sir! He means no harm. I'll send him up in the morning, to +apologise." +</P> + +<P> +("I'll be damned if you do!" muttered the digger between his teeth.) +</P> + +<P> +But the Chief refused to be placated. "Good day, doctor," he said +shortly, and with his staff at heel trotted down the slope, followed +till out of earshot by a mocking fire of "Joes." Lingering in the rear, +the youthful sympathiser turned in his saddle and waved his cap. +</P> + +<P> +The raid was over for that day. The crowd dispersed; its members became +orderly, hard-working men once more. The storekeeper hushed his frantic +dog, and called his assistant to rebuild the pillar of tins. +</P> + +<P> +The young digger sat down on the log that served for a bench, and +examined his foot. He pulled and pulled, causing himself great pain, +but could not get his boot off. At last, looking back over his shoulder +he cried impatiently: "Dick!... I say, Dick Mahony! Give us a drink, +old boy! ... I'm dead-beat." +</P> + +<P> +At this the storekeeper—a tall, slenderly built man of some seven or +eight and twenty—appeared, bearing a jug and a pannikin. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, bah!" said the lad, when he found that the jug held only water. +And, on his friend reminding him that he might by now have been sitting +in the lock-up, he laughed and winked. "I knew you'd go bail." +</P> + +<P> +"Well! ... of all the confounded impudence...." +</P> + +<P> +"Faith, Dick, and d'ye think I didn't see how your hand itched for your +pocket?" +</P> + +<P> +The man he called Mahony flushed above his fair beard. It was true: he +had made an involuntary movement of the hand—checked for the rest +halfway, by the knowledge that the pocket was empty. He looked +displeased and said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be afraid, I'll pay you back soon's ever me ship comes home," +went on the young scapegrace, who very well knew how to play his cards. +At his companion's heated disclaimer, however, he changed his tone. "I +say, Dick, have a look at my foot, will you? I can't get this damned +boot off." +</P> + +<P> +The elder man bent over the injury. He ceased to show displeasure. +"Purdy, you young fool, when will you learn wisdom?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, they shouldn't hunt old women, then—the swine!" gave back +Purdy; and told his tale. "Oh, lor! there go six canaries." For, at his +wincing and shrinking, his friend had taken a penknife and ripped up +the jackboot. Now, practised hands explored the swollen, discoloured +ankle. +</P> + +<P> +When it had been washed and bandaged, its owner stretched himself on +the ground, his head in the shade of a barrel, and went to sleep. +</P> + +<P> +He slept till sundown, through all the traffic of a busy afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +Some half-a-hundred customers came and went. The greater number of them +were earth-stained diggers, who ran up for, it might be, a missing +tool, or a hide bucket, or a coil of rope. They spat jets of +tobacco-juice, were richly profane, paid, where coin was scarce, in +gold-dust from a match-box, and hurried back to work. But there also +came old harridans—as often as not, diggers themselves—whose language +outdid that of the males, and dirty Irish mothers; besides a couple of +the white women who inhabited the Chinese quarter. One of these was in +liquor, and a great hullabaloo took place before she could be got rid +of. Put out, she stood in front of the tent, her hair hanging down her +back, cursing and reviling. Respectable women as well did an +afternoon's shopping there. In no haste to be gone, they sat about on +empty boxes or upturned barrels exchanging confidences, while weary +children plucked at their skirts. A party of youngsters entered, the +tallest of whom could just see over the counter, and called for +shandygaffs. The assistant was for chasing them off, with hard words. +But the storekeeper put, instead, a stick of barley-sugar into each +dirty, outstretched hand, and the imps retired well content. On their +heels came a digger and his lady-love to choose a wedding-outfit; and +all the gaudy finery the store held was displayed before them. A red +velvet dress flounced with satin, a pink gauze bonnet, white satin +shoes and white silk stockings met their fancy. The dewy-lipped, +smutty-lashed Irish girl blushed and dimpled, in consulting with the +shopman upon the stays in which to lace her ample figure; the digger, +whose very pores oozed gold, planked down handfuls of dust and nuggets, +and brushed aside a neat Paisley shawl for one of yellow satin, the +fellow to which he swore to having seen on the back of the Governor's +lady herself. He showered brandy-snaps on the children, and bought a +polka-jacket for a shabby old woman. Then, producing a bottle of +champagne from a sack he bore, he called on those present to give him, +after: "'Er most Gracious little Majesty, God bless 'er!" the: "'Oly +estate of materimony!" The empty bottle smashed for luck, the couple +departed arm-in-arm, carrying their purchases in the sack; and the rest +of the company trooped to the door with them, to wish them joy. +</P> + +<P> +Within the narrow confines of the tent, where red-herrings trailed over +moleskin-shorts, and East India pickles and Hessian boots lay on the +top of sugar and mess-pork; where cheeses rubbed shoulders with tallow +candles, blue and red serge shirts, and captain's biscuits; where +onions, and guernseys, and sardines, fine combs, cigars and +bear's-grease, Windsor soap, tinned coffee and hair oil, revolvers, +shovels and Oxford shoes, lay in one grand miscellany: within the +crowded store, as the afternoon wore on, the air grew rank and +oppressive. Precisely at six o'clock the bar was let down across the +door, and the storekeeper withdrew to his living-room at the back of +the tent. Here he changed his coat and meticulously washed his hands, +to which clung a subtle blend of all the strong-smelling goods that had +passed through them. Then, coming round to the front, he sat down on +the log and took out his pipe. He made a point, no matter how brisk +trade was, of not keeping open after dark. His evenings were his own. +</P> + +<P> +He sat and puffed, tranquilly. It was a fine night. The first showy +splendour of sunset had passed; but the upper sky was still aflush with +colour. And in the centre of this frail cloud, which faded as he +watched it, swam a single star. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0102"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter II +</H3> + +<P> +With the passing of a cooler air the sleeper wakened and rubbed his +eyes. Letting his injured leg lie undisturbed, he drew up the other +knee and buckled his hands round it. In this position he sat and talked. +</P> + +<P> +He was a dark, fresh-coloured young man, of middle height, and broadly +built. He had large white teeth of a kind to crack nuts with, and the +full, wide, flexible mouth that denotes the generous talker. +</P> + +<P> +"What a wind-bag it is, to be sure!" thought his companion, as he +smoked and listened, in a gently ironic silence, to abuse of the +Government. He knew—or thought he knew—young Purdy inside out. +</P> + +<P> +But behind all the froth of the boy's talk there lurked, it seemed, a +purpose. No sooner was a meal of cold chop and tea over than Purdy +declared his intention of being present at a meeting of malcontent +diggers. Nor would he even wait to wash himself clean of mud. +</P> + +<P> +His friend reluctantly agreed to lend him an arm. But he could not +refrain from taking the lad to task for getting entangled in the +political imbroglio. "When, as you know, it's just a kind of sport to +you." +</P> + +<P> +Purdy sulked for a few paces, then burst out: "If only you weren't so +damned detached, Dick Mahony!" +</P> + +<P> +"You're restless, and want excitement, my boy—that's the root of the +trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm jiggered! If ever I knew a restless mortal, it's yourself." +</P> + +<P> +The two men picked their steps across the Flat and up the opposite +hillside, young Purdy Smith limping and leaning heavy, his lame foot +thrust into an old slipper. He was at all times hail-fellow-well-met +with the world. Now, in addition, his plucky exploit of the afternoon +blazed its way through the settlement; and blarney and bravos rained +upon him. "Golly for you, Purdy, old 'oss!" "Showed 'em the diggers' +flag, 'e did!" "What'll you take, me buck? Come on in for a drop o' the +real strip-me-down-naked!" Even a weary old strumpet, propping herself +against the doorway of a dancing-saloon, waved a tipsy hand and cried: +"Arrah, an' is it yerrself, Purrdy, me bhoy? Shure an' it's bussin' ye +I'd be afther—if me legs would carry me!" And Purdy laughed, and +relished the honey, and had an answer pat for everybody especially the +women. His companion on the other hand was greeted with a glibness that +had something perfunctory in it, and no touch of familiarity. +</P> + +<P> +The big canvas tent on Bakery Hill, where the meeting was to be held, +was already lighted; and at the tinkle of a bell the diggers, who till +then had stood cracking and hobnobbing outside, began to push for the +entrance. The bulk of them belonged to the race that is quickest to +resent injustice—were Irish. After them in number came the Germans, +swaggering and voluble; and the inflammable French, English, Scotch and +Americans formed a smaller and cooler, but very dogged group. +</P> + +<P> +At the end of the tent a rough platform had been erected, on which +stood a row of cane seats. In the body of the hall, the benches were +formed of boards, laid from one upturned keg or tub to another. The +chair was taken by a local auctioneer, a cadaverous-looking man, with +never a twinkle in his eye, who, in a lengthy discourse and with the +single monotonous gesture of beating the palm of one hand with the back +of the other, strove to bring home to his audience the degradation of +their present political status. The diggers chewed and spat, and +listened to his periods with sang-froid: the shame of their state did +not greatly move them. They followed, too, with composure, the +rehearsal of their general grievances. As they were aware, said the +speaker, the Legislative Council of Victoria was made up largely of +Crown nominees; in the election of members the gold-seeking population +had no voice whatsoever. This was a scandalous thing; for the digging +constituent outnumbered all the rest of the population put together, +thus forming what he would call the backbone and mainstay of the +colony. The labour of THEIR hands had raised the colony to its present +pitch of prosperity. And yet these same bold and hardy pioneers were +held incapable of deciding jot or tittle in the public affairs of their +adopted home. Still unmoved, the diggers listened to this recital of +their virtues. But when one man, growing weary of the speaker's +unctuous wordiness, discharged a fierce: "Why the hell don't yer git on +to the bloody licence-tax?" the audience was fire and flame in an +instant. A riotous noise ensued; rough throats rang changes on the +question. Order restored, it was evident that the speech was over. +Thrown violently out of his concept, the auctioneer struck and struck +at his palm—in vain; nothing would come. So, making the best of a bad +job, he irately sat down in favour of his successor on the programme. +</P> + +<P> +This speaker did not fare much better. The assemblage, roused now, +jolly and merciless, was not disposed to give quarter; and his +obtuseness in dawdling over such high-flown notions as that population, +not property, formed the basis of representative government, reaped him +a harvest of boos and groans. This was not what the diggers had come +out to hear. And they were as direct as children in their demand for +the gist of the matter. +</P> + +<P> +"A reg-lar ol' shicer!" was the unanimous opinion, expressed without +scruple. While from the back of the hall came the curt request to him +to shut his "tater-trap." +</P> + +<P> +Next on the list was a German, a ruddy-faced man with mutton-chop +whiskers and prominent, watery eyes. He could not manage the letter +"r." In the body of a word where it was negligible, he rolled it out as +though it stood three deep. Did he tackle it as an initial, on the +other hand, his tongue seemed to cleave to his palate, and to yield +only an "l." This quaint defect caused some merriment at the start, but +was soon eclipsed by a more striking oddity. The speaker had the habit +of, as it were, creaking with his nose. After each few sentences he +paused, to give himself time to produce something between a creak and a +snore—an abortive attempt to get at a mucus that was plainly out of +reach. +</P> + +<P> +The diggers were beside themselves with mirth. +</P> + +<P> +"'E's forgot 'is 'ankey!" +</P> + +<P> +"'Ere, boys, look slippy!—a 'ankey for ol' sausage!" +</P> + +<P> +But the German was not sensitive to ridicule. He had something to say, +and he was there to say it. Fixing his fish-like eyes on a spot high up +the tent wall, he kept them pinned to it, while he mouthed out +blood-and-thunder invectives. He was, it seemed, a red-hot +revolutionist; a fierce denouncer of British rule. He declared the +British monarchy to be an effete institution; the fetish of British +freedom to have been "exbloded" long ago. What they needed, in this +grand young country of theirs, was a "republic"; they must rid +themselves of those shackles that had been forged in the days when men +were slaves. It was his sound conviction that before many weeks had +passed, the Union Jack would have been hauled down for ever, and the +glorious Southern Cross would wave in its stead, over a free Australia. +The day on which this happened would be a never-to-be-forgotten date in +the annals of the country. For what, he would like to know, had the +British flag ever done for freedom, at any time in the world's history? +They should read in their school-books, and there they would learn that +wherever a people had risen against their tyrants, the Union Jack had +waved, not over them, but over the British troops sent to stamp the +rising out. +</P> + +<P> +This was more than Mahony could stomach. Flashing up from his seat, he +strove to assert himself above the hum of agreement that mounted from +the foreign contingent, and the doubtful sort of grumble by which the +Britisher signifies his disapproval. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Chairman! Gentlemen!" he cried in a loud voice. "I call upon those +loyal subjects of her Majesty who are present here, to join with me in +giving three cheers for the British flag. Hip, hip, hurrah! And, again, +hip, hip, hurrah! And, once more, hip, hip, hurrah!" +</P> + +<P> +His compatriots followed him, though flabbily; and he continued to make +himself heard above the shouts of "Order!" and the bimming of the +chairman's bell. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Chairman! I appeal to you. Are we Britons to sit still and hear +our country's flag reviled?—that flag which has ensured us the very +liberty we are enjoying this evening. The gentleman who has been +pleased to slander it is not, I believe, a British citizen. Now, I put +it to him: is there another country on the face of the earth, that +would allow people of all nations to flock into a gold-bearing colony +on terms of perfect equality with its own subjects?—to flock in, take +all they can get, and then make off with it?" a point of view that +elicited forcible grunts of assent, which held their own against hoots +and hisses. Unfortunately the speaker did not stop here, but went on: +"Gentlemen! Do not, I implore you, allow yourselves to be led astray by +a handful of ungrateful foreigners, who have received nothing but +benefits from our Crown. What you need, gentlemen, is not revolution, +but reform; not strife and bloodshed, but a liberty consistent with law +and order. And this, gentlemen,——" +</P> + +<P> +("You'll never get 'em like that, Dick," muttered Purdy.) +</P> + +<P> +"Not so much gentlemening, if YOU please!" said a sinister-looking man, +who might have been a Vandemonian in his day. "MEN'S what we +are—that's good enough for us." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony was nettled. The foreigners, too, were pressing him. +</P> + +<P> +"Am I then to believe, sir, what I frequently hear asserted, that there +are no gentlemen left on the diggings?" +</P> + +<P> +("Oh lor, Dick!" said Purdy. He was sitting with his elbows on his +knees, clutching his cheeks as though he had the toothache.) +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, stow yer blatherskite!" +</P> + +<P> +"Believe what yer bloody well like!" retorted the Vandemonian fiercely. +"But don't come 'ere and interrupt our pleasant and h'orderly meetings +with YOUR blamed jaw." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony lost his temper. "I not interrupt?—when I see you great hulks +of men—" +</P> + +<P> +("Oh, lor!" groaned Purdy again.) +</P> + +<P> +"—who call yourselves British subjects, letting yourselves be led by +the nose, like the sheep you are, by a pack of foreigners who are +basely accepting this country's hospital'ty?" +</P> + +<P> +"Here, let me," said Purdy. And pushing his way along the bench he +hobbled to the platform, where several arms hoisted him up. +</P> + +<P> +There he stood, fronting the violent commotion that had ensued on his +friend's last words; stood bedraggled, mud-stained, bandaged, his +cabbage-tree hat in his hand. And Mahony, still on his feet, angrily +erect, thought he understood why the boy had refused to wash himself +clean, or to change his dress: he had no doubt foreseen the possibility +of some such dramatic appearance. +</P> + +<P> +Purdy waited for the hubbub to die down. As if by chance he had rested +his hand on the bell; its provoking tinkle ceased. Now he broke into +one of the frank and hearty smiles that never fail to conciliate. +</P> + +<P> +"Brother diggers!" +</P> + +<P> +The strongly spoken words induced an abrupt lull. The audience turned +to him, still thorny and sulky it was true, but yet they turned; and +one among them demanded a hearing for the youngster. +</P> + +<P> +"Brother diggers! We are met here to-night with a single purpose in +view. Brother diggers! We are not met here to throw mud at our dear old +country's flag! Nor will we have a word said against her most gracious +Majesty, the Queen. Not us! We're men first, whose business it is to +stand up for a gallant little woman, and diggers with a grievance +afterwards. Are you with me, boys?—Very well, then.— Now we didn't +come here to-night to confab about getting votes, or having a hand in +public affairs—much as we want 'em both and mean to have 'em, when the +time comes. No, to-night there's only one thing that matters to us, and +that's the repeal of the accursed tax!" Here, such a tempest of +applause broke out that he was unable to proceed. "Yes, I say it +again," he went on, when they would let him speak; "the instant repeal! +When that's been done, this curse taken off us, then it'll be time +enough to parlez-vous about the colour of the flag we mean to have, and +about going shares in the Government. But let me make one thing clear +to you. We're neither traitors to the Crown, nor common rebels. We're +true-blue Britons, who have been goaded to rebellion by one of the +vilest pieces of tyranny that ever saw the light. Spies and informers +are everywhere about us. Mr. Commissioner Sleuth and his hounds may cry +tally-ho every day, if 'tis their pleasure to! To put it shortly, boys, +we're living under semi-martial law. To such a state have we free-born +men, men who came out but to see the elephant, been reduced, by the +asinine stupidity of the Government, by the impudence and knavishness +of its officials. Brother diggers! When you leave the hall this +evening, look over at the hill on which the Camp stands! What will you +see? You will see a blaze of light, and hear the sounds of revelry by +night. There, boys, hidden from our mortal view, but visible to our +mind's eye, sit Charley Joe's minions, carousing at our expense, +washing down each mouthful with good fizz bought with our hard-earned +gold. Licence-pickings, boys, and tips from new grog-shops, and the +blasted farce of the Commissariat! We're supposed—" +</P> + +<P> +But here Mahony gave a loud click of the tongue—in the general howl of +execration it passed unheard—and, pushing his way out of the tent, let +the flap-door fall to behind him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0103"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter III +</H3> + +<P> +He retraced his steps by the safe-conduct of a full moon, which showed +up the gaping black mouths of circular shafts and silvered the water +that flooded abandoned oblong holes to their brim. Tents and huts stood +white and forsaken in the moonlight: their owners were either gathered +on Bakery Hill, or had repaired to one of the gambling and dancing +saloons that lined the main street. Arrived at the store he set his +frantic dog free, and putting a match to his pipe, began to stroll up +and down. +</P> + +<P> +He felt annoyed with himself for having helped to swell the crowd of +malcontents; and still more for his foolishness in giving the rein to a +momentary irritation. As if it mattered a doit what trash these +foreigners talked! No thinking person took their bombast seriously; the +authorities, with great good sense, let it pass for what it was—a +noisy blowing-off of steam. At heart, the diggers were as sound as good +pippins. +</P> + +<P> +A graver consideration was Purdy's growing fellowship with the rebel +faction. The boy was too young and still too much of a fly-by-night to +have a black mark set against his name. It would be the more absurd, +considering that his sincerity in espousing the diggers' cause was far +from proved. He was of a nature to ride tantivy into anything that +promised excitement or adventure. With, it must regretfully be +admitted, an increasing relish for the limelight, for theatrical +effect—see the cunning with which he had made capital out of a +bandaged ankle and dirty dress! At this rate, and with his engaging +ways, he would soon stand for a little god to the rough, artless crowd. +No, he must leave the diggings—and Mahony rolled various schemes in +his mind. He had it! In the course of the next week or two business +would make a journey to Melbourne imperative. Well, he would damn the +extra expense and take the boy along with him! Purdy was at a loose +end, and would no doubt rise like a fish to a fly at the chance of +getting to town free of cost. After all, why be hard on him? He was not +much over twenty, and, at that age, it was natural enough—especially +in a place like this—for a lad to flit like a butterfly from every cup +that took his restless fancy. +</P> + +<P> +Restless? ... h'm! It was the word Purdy had flung back at him, earlier +in the evening. At the time, he had rebutted the charge, with a glance +at fifteen months spent behind the counter of a store. But there was a +modicum of truth in it, none the less. The life one led out here was +not calculated to tone down any innate restlessness of temperament: on +the contrary, it directly hindered one from becoming fixed and settled. +It was on a par with the houses you lived in—these flimsy tents and +draught-riddled cabins you put up with, "for the time being"—was just +as much of a makeshift affair as they. Its keynote was change. Fortunes +were made, and lost, and made again, before you could say Jack +Robinson; whole townships shot up over-night, to be deserted the moment +the soil ceased to yield; the people you knew were here to-day, and +gone—sold up, burnt out, or dead and buried—to-morrow. And so, +whether you would or not, your whole outlook became attuned to the +general unrest; you lived in a constant anticipation of what was coming +next. Well, he could own to the weakness with more justification than +most. If trade continued to prosper with him as it did at present, it +would be no time before he could sell out and joyfully depart for the +old country. +</P> + +<P> +In the meantime, why complain? He had much to be thankful for. To take +only a small point: was this not Saturday night? To-morrow the store +was closed, and a string of congenial occupations offered: from +chopping the week's wood—a clean and wholesome task, which he gladly +performed—through the pages of an engrossing book to a botanical +ramble round old Buninyong. The thought of it cheered him. He stooped +to caress his two cats, which had come out to bear him the mute and +pleasant company of their kind. +</P> + +<P> +What a night! The great round silver moon floated serenely through +space, dimming the stars as it made them, and bathing the earth in +splendour. It was so light that straight black lines of smoke could be +seen mounting from chimneys and open-air fires. The grass-trees which +supplied the fuel for these fires spread a pleasant balsamic odour, and +the live red patches contrasted oddly with the pale ardour of the moon. +Lights twinkled over all the township, but were brightest in Main +Street, the course of which they followed like a rope of fireflies, and +at the Government Camp on the steep western slope, where no doubt, as +young Purdy had impudently averred, the officials still sat over the +dinner-table. It was very quiet—no grog-shops or +saloons-of-entertainment in this neighbourhood, thank goodness!—and +the hour was still too early for drunken roisterers to come reeling +home. The only sound to be heard was that of a man's voice singing OFT +IN THE STILLY NIGHT, to the yetching accompaniment of a concertina. +Mahony hummed the tune. +</P> + +<P> +But it was growing cold, as the nights were apt to do on this tableland +once summer was past. He whistled his dog, and Pompey hurried out with +a guilty air from the back of the house, where the old shaft stood that +served to hold refuse. Mahony put him on the chain, and was just about +to turn in when two figures rounded the corner of a tent and came +towards him, pushing their shadows before them on the milk-white ground. +</P> + +<P> +"'D evenin', doc," said the shorter of the two, a nuggetty little man +who carried his arms curved out from his sides, gorilla-fashion. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, good evening, Mr. Ocock," said Mahony, recognising a neighbour.— +"Why, Tom, that you? Back already, my boy?"—this to a loutish, +loose-limbed lad who followed behind.—"You don't of course come from +the meeting?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not me, indeed!" gave back his visitor with gall, and turned his head +to spit the juice from a plug. "I've got suthin' better to do as to +listen to a pack o' jabberin' furriners settin' one another by th'ears." +</P> + +<P> +"Nor you, Tom?" Mahony asked the lad, who stood sheepishly shifting his +weight from one leg to the other. +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, nor 'im eether," jumped in his father, before he could speak. +"I'll 'ave none o' my boys playin' the fool up there. And that reminds +me, doc, young Smith'll git 'imself inter the devil of a mess one o' +these days, if you don't look after 'im a bit better'n you do. I 'eard +'im spoutin' away as I come past—usin' language about the Gover'ment +fit to turn you sick." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony coughed. "He's but young yet," he said drily. "After all, +youth's youth, sir, and comes but once in a lifetime. And you can't +make lads into wiseacres between sundown and sunrise." +</P> + +<P> +"No, by Gawd, you can't!" affirmed his companion. "But I think youth's +just a fine name for a sort o' piggish mess What's the good, one 'ud +like to know, of gettin' old, and learnin' wisdom, and knowin' the good +from the bad, when ev'ry lousy young fathead that's born inter the +world starts out again to muddle through it for 'imself, in 'is own +way. And that things 'as got to go on like this, just the same, for +ever and ever—why, it makes me fair tired to think of it. My father +didn't 'old with youth: 'e knocked it out of us by thrashin', just like +lyin' and thievin'. And it's the best way, too.— Wot's that you say?" +he flounced round on the unoffending Tom. "Nothin'? You was only +snifflin', was you? You keep your fly-trap shut, my fine fellow, and +make no mousy sounds to me, or it'll be the worse for you, I can tell +you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Mr. Ocock, don't be too hard on the boy." +</P> + +<P> +"Not be 'ard on 'im? When I've got the nasty galoon on me 'ands again +like this?—Chucks up the good post I git 'im in Kilmore, without with +your leave or by your leave. Too lonely for 'is lordship it was. Missed +the sound o' wimmin's petticoats, 'e did." He turned fiercely on his +son. "'Ere, don't you stand starin' there! You get 'ome, and fix up for +the night. Now then, wot are you dawdlin' for, pig-'ead?" +</P> + +<P> +The boy slunk away. When he had disappeared, his father again took up +the challenge of Mahony's silent disapproval. "I can't 'ardly bear the +sight of 'im, doc.—disgracin' me as 'e 'as done. 'Im a father, and not +eighteen till June! A son o' mine, who can't see a wench with 'er +bodice open, but wot 'e must be arter 'er.... No, sir, no son o' mine! +I'm a respectable man, I am!" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, of course." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! but they're a sore trial to me, these boys, doc. 'Enry's the only +one ... if it weren't for 'Enry—Johnny, 'e can't pass the drink, and +now 'ere's this young swine started to nose arter the wimmin." +</P> + +<P> +"There's good stuff in the lads, I'm sure of it. They're just sowing +their wild oats." +</P> + +<P> +"They'll sow no h'oats with me." +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you what it is, Mr. Ocock, you need a woman about your place, +to make it a bit more homelike," said Mahony, calling to mind the +pigstye in which Ocock and his sons housed. +</P> + +<P> +"Course I do!" agreed Ocock. "And Melia, she'll come out to 'er daddy +soon as ever th'ol' woman kicks the bucket.— Drat 'er! It's 'er I've +got to thank for all the mischief." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well!" said Mahony, and rising knocked out his pipe on the log. +Did his old neighbour once get launched on the subject of his wife's +failings, there was no stopping him. "We all have our crosses." +</P> + +<P> +"That I 'ave. And I'm keepin' you outer your bed, doc., with me +blather. —By gum! and that reminds me I come 'ere special to see you +to-night. Bin gettin' a bit moonstruck, I reckon,"—and he clapped on +his hat. +</P> + +<P> +Drawing a sheaf of papers from an inner pocket, he selected one and +offered it to Mahony. Mahony led the way indoors, and lighting a +kerosene-lamp stooped to decipher the letter. +</P> + +<P> +For some weeks now he had been awaiting the delivery of a load of +goods, the invoice for which had long since reached him. From this +communication, carried by hand, he learnt that the drayman, having got +bogged just beyond Bacchus's marsh, had decamped to the Ovens, taking +with him all he could cram into a spring-cart, and disposing of the +remainder for what he could get. The agent in Melbourne refused to be +held responsible for the loss, and threatened to prosecute, if payment +for the goods were not immediately forthcoming. Mahony, who here heard +the first of the affair, was highly indignant at the tone of the +letter; and before he had read to the end resolved to let everything +else slide, and to leave for Melbourne early next morning. +</P> + +<P> +Ocock backed him up in this decision, and with the aid of a great quill +pen stiffly traced the address of his eldest son, who practised as a +solicitor in the capital. +</P> + +<P> +"Go you straight to 'Enry, doc. 'Enry'll see you through." +</P> + +<P> +Brushing aside his dreams of a peaceful Sabbath Mahony made +preparations for his journey. Waking his assistant, he gave the man—a +stupid clodhopper, but honest and attached—instructions how to manage +during his absence, then sent him to the township to order horses. +Himself, he put on his hat and went out to look for Purdy. +</P> + +<P> +His search led him through all the drunken revelry of a Saturday night. +And it was close on twelve before, having followed the trace from +bowling-alley to Chinese cook-shop, from the "Adelphi" to Mother +Flannigan's and haunts still less reputable, he finally succeeded in +catching his bird. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0104"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter IV +</H3> + +<P> +The two young men took to the road betimes: it still wanted some +minutes to six on the new clock in the tower of Bath's Hotel, when they +threw their legs over their saddles and rode down the steep slope by +the Camp Reserve. The hoofs of the horses pounded the plank bridge that +spanned the Yarrowee, and striking loose stones, and smacking and +sucking in the mud, made a rude clatter in the Sunday quiet. +</P> + +<P> +Having followed for a few hundred yards the wide, rut-riddled +thoroughfare of Main Street, the riders branched off to cross rising +ground. They proceeded in single file and at a footpace, for the +highway had been honeycombed and rendered unsafe; it also ascended +steadily. Just before they entered the bush, which was alive with the +rich, strong whistling of magpies, Purdy halted to look back and wave +his hat in farewell. Mahony also half-turned in the saddle. There it +lay—the scattered, yet congested, unlovely wood and canvas settlement +that was Ballarat. At this distance, and from this height, it resembled +nothing so much as a collection of child's bricks, tossed out at random +over the ground, the low, square huts and cabins that composed it being +all of a shape and size. Some threads of smoke began to mount towards +the immense pale dome of the sky. The sun was catching here the panes +of a window, there the tin that encased a primitive chimney. +</P> + +<P> +They rode on, leaving the warmth of the early sun-rays for the cold +blue shadows of the bush. Neither broke the silence. Mahony's day had +not come to an end with the finding of Purdy. Barely stretched on his +palliasse he had been routed out to attend to Long Jim, who had missed +his footing and pitched into a shaft. The poor old tipsy idiot hauled +up—luckily for him it was a dry, shallow hole—there was a broken +collar-bone to set. Mahony had installed him in his own bed, and had +spent the remainder of the night dozing in a chair. +</P> + +<P> +So now he was heavy-eyed, uncommunicative. As they climbed the shoulder +and came to the rich, black soil that surrounded the ancient cone of +Warrenheip, he mused on his personal relation to the place he had just +left. And not for the first time he asked himself: what am I doing +here? When he was absent from Ballarat, and could dispassionately +consider the life he led there, he was so struck by the incongruity of +the thing that, like the beldame in the nursery-tale, he could have +pinched himself to see whether he waked or slept. Had anyone told him, +three years previously, that the day was coming when he would weigh out +soap and sugar, and hand them over a counter in exchange for money, he +would have held the prophet ripe for Bedlam. Yet here he was, a +full-blown tradesman, and as greedy of gain as any tallow-chandler. +Extraordinary, aye, and distressing, too, the ease with which the human +organism adapted itself; it was just a case of the green caterpillar on +the green leaf. Well, he could console himself with the knowledge that +his apparent submission was only an affair of the surface. He had +struck no roots; and it would mean as little to his half-dozen +acquaintances on Ballarat when he silently vanished from their midst, +as it would to him if he never saw one of them again. Or the country +either—and he let his eye roam unlovingly over the wild, sad-coloured +landscape, with its skimpy, sad-coloured trees. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile they were advancing: their nags' hoofs, beating in unison, +devoured mile after mile of the road. It was a typical colonial road; +it went up hill and down dale, turned aside for no obstacles. At one +time it ran down a gully that was almost a ravine, to mount straight up +the opposite side among boulders that reached to the belly-bands. At +others, it led through a reedy swamp, or a stony watercourse; or it +became a bog; or dived through a creek. Where the ground was flat and +treeless, it was a rutty, well-worn track between two seas of pale, +scant grass. +</P> + +<P> +More than once, complaining of a mouth like sawdust, Purdy alighted and +limped across the verandah of a house-of-accommodation; but they did +not actually draw rein till, towards midday, they reached a knot of +weatherboard verandahed stores, smithies and public-houses, arranged at +the four Corners of two cross-roads. Here they made a substantial +luncheon; and the odour of fried onions carried far and wide. Mahony +paid his three shillings for a bottle of ale; but Purdy washed down the +steak with cup after cup of richly sugared tea. +</P> + +<P> +In the early afternoon they set off again, revived and refreshed. Purdy +caught at a bunch of aromatic leaves and burst into a song; and Mahony. +... Good God! With a cloudless sky overhead, a decent bit of horseflesh +between his knees, and the prospect of a three days' holiday from +storekeeping, his name would not have been what it was if he had for +long remained captious, downhearted. Insufficient sleep, and an empty +stomach—nothing on earth besides! A fig for his black thoughts! The +fact of his being obliged to spend a few years in the colony would, in +the end, profit him, by widening his experience of the world and his +fellow-men. It was possible to lead a sober, Godfearing life, no matter +in what rude corner of the globe you were pitchforked.— And in this +mood he was even willing to grant the landscape a certain charm. Since +leaving Ballan the road had dipped up and down a succession of swelling +rises, grass-grown and untimbered. From the top of these ridges the +view was a far one: you looked straight across undulating waves of +country and intervening forest-land, to where, on the horizon, a long, +low sprawling range of hills lay blue—cobalt-blue, and painted in with +a sure brush—against the porcelain-blue of the sky. What did the +washed-out tints of the foliage matter, when, wherever you turned, you +could count on getting these marvellous soft distances, on always +finding a range of blue-veiled hills, lovely and intangible as a dream? +</P> + +<P> +There was not much traffic to the diggings on a Sunday. And having come +to a level bit of ground, the riders followed a joint impulse and broke +into a canter. As they began to climb again they fell naturally into +one of those familiar talks, full of allusion and reminiscence, that +are only possible between two of a sex who have lived through part of +their green days together. +</P> + +<P> +It began by Purdy referring to the satisfactory fashion in which he had +disposed of his tools, his stretcher-bed, and other effects: he was not +travelling to Melbourne empty-handed. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony rallied him. "You were always a good one at striking a bargain, +my boy! What about: 'Four mivvies for an alley!'—eh, Dickybird?" +</P> + +<P> +This related to their earliest meeting, and was a standing joke between +them. Mahony could recall the incident as clearly as though it had +happened yesterday: how the sturdy little apple-cheeked English boy, +with the comical English accent, had suddenly bobbed up at his side on +the way home from school, and in that laughable sing-song of his, +without modulation or emphasis, had offered to "swop" him, as above. +</P> + +<P> +Purdy laughed and paid him back in kind. "Yes, and the funk you were in +for fear Spiny Tatlow 'ud see us, and peach to the rest!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. What young idiots boys are!" +</P> + +<P> +In thought he added: "And what snobs!" For the breach of convention—he +was an upper-form boy at the time—had not been his sole reason for +wishing to shake off his junior. Behind him, Mahony, when he reached +home, closed the door of one of the largest houses in the most +exclusive square in Dublin. Whereas Purdy lived in a small, common +house in a side street. Visits there had to be paid surreptitiously. +</P> + +<P> +All the same these were frequent—and for the best of reasons. Mahony +could still see Purdy's plump, red-cheeked English mother, who was as +jolly and happy as her boy, hugging the loaf to her bosom while she cut +round after round of bread and butter and jam, for two cormorant +throats. And the elder boy, long-limbed and lank, all wrist and ankle, +had invariably been the hungrier of the two; for, on the glossy damask +of the big house, often not enough food was set to satisfy the growing +appetites of himself and his sisters.—"Dickybird, can't you see us, +with our backs to the wall, in that little yard of yours, trying who +could take the biggest bite?—or going round the outside: 'Crust first, +and though you burst, By the bones of Davy Jones!' till only a little +island of jam was left?" +</P> + +<P> +Purdy laughed heartily at these and other incidents fished up by his +friend from the well of the years; but he did not take part in the +sport himself. He had not Mahony's gift for recalling detail: to him +past was past. He only became alive and eager when the talk turned, as +it soon did, on his immediate prospects. +</P> + +<P> +This time, to his astonishment, Mahony had had no trouble in persuading +Purdy to quit the diggings. In addition, here was the boy now declaring +openly that what he needed, and must have, was a fixed and steadily +paying job. With this decision Mahony was in warm agreement, and +promised all the help that lay in his power. +</P> + +<P> +But Purdy was not done; he hummed and hawed and fidgeted; he took off +his hat and looked inside it; he wiped his forehead and the nape of his +neck. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony knew the symptoms. "Come, Dickybird. Spit it out, my boy!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes ... er.... Well, the fact is, Dick, I begin to think it's time I +settled down." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony gave a whistle. "Whew! A lady in the case?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's the chat. Just oblige yours truly by takin' a squint at this, +will you?" +</P> + +<P> +He handed his friend a squarely-folded sheet of thinnest blue paper, +with a large purple stamp in one corner, and a red seal on the back. +Opening it Mahony discovered three crossed pages, written in a +delicately pointed, minute, Italian hand. +</P> + +<P> +He read the letter to the end, deliberately, and with a growing sense +of relief: composition, expression and penmanship, all met with his +approval. "This is the writing of a person of some refinement, my son." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, er ... yes," said Purdy. He seemed about to add a further word, +then swallowed it, and went on: "Though, somehow or other, Till's +different to herself, on paper. But she's the best of girls, Dick. Not +one o' your ethereal, die-away, bread-and-butter misses. There's +something OF Till there is, and she's always on for a lark. I never met +such girls for larks as her and 'er sister. The very last time I was +there, they took and hung up ... me and some other fellers had been +stoppin' up a bit late the night before, and kickin' up a bit of a +shindy, and what did those girls do? They got the barman to come into +my room while I was asleep, and hang a bucket o' water to one of the +beams over the bed. Then I'm blamed if they didn't tie a string from it +to my big toe! I gives a kick, down comes the bucket and half drowns +me.— Gosh, how those girls did laugh!" +</P> + +<P> +"H'm!" said Mahony dubiously; while Purdy in his turn chewed the cud of +a pleasant memory.—"Well, I for my part should be glad to see you +married and settled, with a good wife always beside you." +</P> + +<P> +"That's just the rub," said Purdy, and vigorously scratched his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Till's a first-class girl as a sweetheart and all that; but when I +come to think of puttin' my head in the noose, from now till +doomsday—why then, somehow, I can't bring myself to pop the question." +</P> + +<P> +"There's going to be no trifling with the girl's feelings, I hope, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"Bosh! But I say, Dick, I wish you'd turn your peepers on 'er and tell +me what you make of 'er. She's A1 'erself, but she's got a mother.... +By Job, Dick, if I thought Tilly 'ud ever get like that ... and they're +exactly the same build, too." +</P> + +<P> +It would certainly be well for him to inspect Purdy's flame, thought +Mahony. Especially since the anecdote told did not bear out the good +impression left by the letter—went far, indeed, to efface it. Still, +he was loath to extend his absence by spending a night at Geelong, +where, a, it came out, the lady lived; and he replied evasively that it +must depend on the speed with which he could put through his business +in Melbourne. +</P> + +<P> +Purdy was silent for a time. Then, with a side-glance at his companion, +he volunteered: "I say, Dick, I know some one who'd suit you." +</P> + +<P> +"The deuce you do!" said Mahony, and burst out laughing. "Miss Tilly's +sister, no doubt?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, no—not her. Jinn's all right, but she's not your sort. But +they've got a girl living with 'em—a sort o' poor relation, or +something—and she's a horse of quite another colour.—I say, old man, +serious now, have you never thought o' gettin' spliced?" +</P> + +<P> +Again Mahony laughed. At his companion's words there descended to him, +once more, from some shadowy distance, some pure height, the +rose-tinted vision of the wife-to-be which haunts every man's youth. +And, in ludicrous juxtaposition, he saw the women, the only women he +had encountered since coming to the colony: the hardworking, careworn +wives of diggers; the harridans, sluts and prostitutes who made up the +balance. +</P> + +<P> +He declined to be drawn. "Is it old Moll Flannigan or one of her +darlints you'd be wishing me luck to, ye spalpeen?" +</P> + +<P> +"Man, don't I say I've FOUND the wife for you?" Purdy was not jesting, +and did not join in the fresh salvo of laughter with which Mahony +greeted his words. "Oh, blow it, Dick, you're too fastidious—too +damned particular! Say what you like, there's good in all of 'em—even +in old Mother Flannigan 'erself—and 'specially when she's got a drop +inside 'er. Fuddle old Moll a bit, and she'd give you the very shift +off her back.—Don't I thank the Lord, that's all, I'm not built like +you! Why, the woman isn't born I can't get on with. All's fish that +comes to my net.—Oh, to be young, Dick, and to love the girls! To see +their little waists, and their shoulders, and the dimples in their +cheeks! See 'em put up their hands to their bonnets, and how their +little feet peep out when the wind blows their petticoats against their +legs!" and Purdy rose in his stirrups and stretched himself, in an +excess of wellbeing. +</P> + +<P> +"You young reprobate!" +</P> + +<P> +"Bah!—you! You've got water in your veins." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing of the sort! Set me among decent women and there's no company +I enjoy more," declared Mahony. +</P> + +<P> +"Fish-blood, fish-blood!—Dick, it's my belief you were born old." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony was still young enough to be nettled by doubts cast on his +vitality. Purdy laughed in his sleeve. Aloud he said: "Well, look here, +old man, I'll lay you a wager. I bet you you're not game, when you see +that tulip I've been tellin' you about, to take her in your arms and +kiss her. A fiver on it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Done!" cried Mahony. "And I'll have it in one note, if you please!" +</P> + +<P> +"Bravo!" cried Purdy. "Bravo, Dick!" And having gained his end, and +being on a good piece of road between post-and-rail fences, he set +spurs to his horse and cantered off, singing as he went: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + SHE WHEELS A WHEELBARROW,<BR> + THROUGH STREETS WIDE AND NARROW,<BR> + CRYING COCKLES, AND MUSSELS,<BR> + ALIVE, ALIVE-OH!<BR> +</P> + +<P> +But the sun was growing large in the western sky; on the ground to the +left, their failing shadows slanted out lengthwise; those cast by the +horses' bodies were mounted on high spindle-legs. The two men ceased +their trifling, and nudged by the fall of day began to ride at a more +business-like pace, pushing forward through the deep basin of Bacchus's +marsh, and on for miles over wide, treeless plains, to where the road +was joined by the main highway from the north, coming down from Mount +Alexander and the Bendigo. Another hour, and from a gentle eminence the +buildings of Melbourne were visible, the mastheads of the many vessels +riding at anchor in Hobson's Bay. Here, too, the briny scent of the +sea, carrying up over grassy flats, met their nostrils, and set Mahony +hungrily sniffing. The brief twilight came and went, and it was already +night when they urged their weary beasts over the Moonee ponds, a +winding chain of brackish waterholes. The horses shambled along the +broad, hilly tracks of North Melbourne; warily picked their steps +through the city itself. Dingy oil-lamps, set here and there at the +corners of roads so broad that you could hardly see across them, shed +but a meagre light, and the further the riders advanced, the more +difficult became their passage: the streets, in process of laying, were +heaped with stones and intersected by trenches. Finally, dismounting, +they thrust their arms through their bridles, and laboriously covered +the last half-mile of the journey on foot. Having lodged the horses at +a livery-stable, they repaired to a hotel in Little Collins Street. +Here Purdy knew the proprietor, and they were fortunate enough to +secure a small room for the use of themselves alone. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0105"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter V +</H3> + +<P> +Melbourne is built on two hills and the valley that lies between. +</P> + +<P> +It was over a year since Mahony or Purdy had been last in the capital, +and next morning, on stepping out of the "Adam and Eve," they walked up +the eastern slope to look about them. From the summit of the hill their +view stretched to the waters of the Bay, and its forest of masts. The +nearer foreground was made up of mud flats, through which a sluggish, +coffee-coloured river wound its way to the sea. On the horizon to the +north, the Dandenong Ranges rose storm-blue and distinct, and seemed +momently to be drawing nearer; for a cold wind was blowing, which +promised rain. The friends caught their glimpses of the landscape +between dense clouds of white dust, which blotted everything out for +minutes at a time, and filled eyes, nose, ears with a gritty powder. +</P> + +<P> +Tiring of this they turned and descended Great Collins Street—a +spacious thoroughfare that dipped into the hollow and rose again, and +was so long that on its western height pedestrians looked no bigger +than ants. In the heart of the city men were everywhere at work, laying +gas and drain-pipes, macadamising, paving, kerbing: no longer would the +old wives' tale be credited of the infant drowned in the deeps of +Swanston Street, or of the bullock which sank, inch by inch, before its +owner's eyes in the Elizabeth Street bog. Massive erections of +freestone were going up alongside here a primitive, canvas-fronted +dwelling, there one formed wholly of galvanised iron. Fashionable +shops, two storeys high, stood next tiny, dilapidated weatherboards. In +the roadway, handsome chaises, landaus, four-in-hands made room for +bullock-teams, eight and ten strong; for tumbrils carrying water or +refuse—or worse; for droves of cattle, mobs of wild colts bound for +auction, flocks of sheep on their way to be boiled down for tallow. +Stock-riders and bull-punchers rubbed shoulders with elegants in +skirted coats and shepherd's plaid trousers, who adroitly skipped heaps +of stones and mortar, or crept along the narrow edging of kerb. +</P> + +<P> +The visitors from up-country paused to listen to a brass band that +played outside a horse-auction mart; to watch the shooting in a +rifle-gallery. The many decently attired females they met also called +for notice. Not a year ago, and no reputable woman walked abroad +oftener than she could help: now, even at this hour, the streets were +starred with them. Purdy, open-mouthed, his eyes a-dance, turned his +head this way and that, pointed and exclaimed. But then HE had slept +like a log, and felt in his own words "as fit as a fiddle." Whereas +Mahony had sat his horse the whole night through, had never ceased to +balance himself in an imaginary saddle. And when at daybreak he had +fallen into a deeper sleep, he was either reviewing outrageous females +on Purdy's behalf, or accepting wagers to kiss them. +</P> + +<P> +Hence, diverting as were the sights of the city, he did not come to +them with the naive receptivity of Purdy. It was, besides, hard to +detach his thoughts from the disagreeable affair that had brought him +to Melbourne. And as soon as banks and offices began to take down their +shutters, he hurried off to his interview with the carrying-agent. +</P> + +<P> +The latter's place of business was behind Great Collins Street, in a +lane reached by a turnpike. Found with some trouble, it proved to be a +rude shanty wedged in between a Chinese laundry and a Chinese +eating-house. The entrance was through a yard in which stood a +collection of rabbit-hutches, while further back gaped a dirty closet. +At the sound of their steps the man they sought emerged, and Mahony +could not repress an exclamation of surprise. When, a little over a +twelvemonth ago, he had first had dealings with him, this Bolliver had +been an alert and respectable man of business. Now he was evidently on +the downgrade; and the cause of the deterioration was advertised in his +bloodshot eyeballs and veinous cheeks. Early as was the hour, he had +already been indulging: his breath puffed sour. Mahony prepared to +state the object of his visit in no uncertain terms. But his +preliminaries were cut short by a volley of abuse. The man accused him +point-blank of having been privy to the rascally drayman's fraud and of +having hoped, by lying low, to evade his liability. Mahony lost his +temper, and vowed that he would have Bolliver up for defamation of +character. To which the latter retorted that the first innings in a +court of law would be his: he had already put the matter in the hands +of his attorney. This was the last straw. Purdy had to intervene and +get Mahony away. They left the agent shaking his fist after them and +cursing the bloody day on which he'd ever been fool enough to do a deal +with a bloody gentleman. +</P> + +<P> +At the corner of the street the friends paused for a hasty conference. +Mahony was for marching off to take the best legal advice the city had +to offer. But Purdy disapproved. Why put himself to so much trouble, +when he had old Ocock's recommendation to his lawyer-son in his coat +pocket? What, in the name of Leary-cum-Fitz, was the sense of making an +enemy for life of the old man, his next-door neighbour, and a good +customer to boot? +</P> + +<P> +These counsels prevailed, and they turned their steps towards Chancery +Lane, where was to be found every variety of legal practitioner from +barrister to scrivener. Having matched the house-number and descried +the words: "Mr. Henry Ocock, Conveyancer and Attorney, Commissioner of +Affidavits," painted black on two dusty windows, they climbed a wooden +stair festooned with cobwebs, to a landing where an injunction to: +"Push and Enter!" was, rudely inked on a sheet of paper and affixed to +a door. +</P> + +<P> +Obeying, they passed into a dingy little room, the entire furnishing of +which consisted of a couple of deal tables, with a chair to each. These +were occupied by a young man and a boy, neither of whom rose at their +entrance. The lad was cutting notches in a stick and whistling +tunefully; the clerk, a young fellow in the early twenties, who had a +mop of flaming red hair and small-slit white-lashed eyes, looked at the +strangers, but without lifting his head: his eyes performed the +necessary motion. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony desired to know if he had the pleasure of addressing Mr. Henry +Ocock. In reply the red-head gave a noiseless laugh, which he +immediately quenched by clapping his hand over his mouth, and shutting +one eye at his junior said: "No—nor yet the Shar o' Persia, nor +Alphybetical Foster!—What can I do for you, governor?" +</P> + +<P> +"You can have the goodness to inform Mr. Ocock that I wish to see him!" +flashed back Mahony. +</P> + +<P> +"Singin' til-ril-i-tum-tum-dee-ay!—Now then, Mike, me child, toddle!" +</P> + +<P> +With patent reluctance the boy ceased his whittling, and dawdled across +the room to an inner door through which he vanished, having first let +his knuckles bump, as if by chance, against the wood of the panel. A +second later he reappeared. "Boss's engaged." But Mahony surprised a +lightning sign between the pair. +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir, I decline to state my business to anyone but Mr. Ocock +himself!" he declared hotly, in response to the red-haired man's +invitation to "get it off his chest." "If you choose to find out when +he will be at liberty, I will wait so long—no longer." +</P> + +<P> +As the office-boy had somehow failed to hit his seat on his passage to +the outer door, there was nothing left for the clerk to do but himself +to undertake the errand. He lounged up from his chair, and, in his case +without even the semblance of a knock, squeezed through a foot wide +aperture, in such a fashion that the two strangers should not catch a +glimpse of what was going on inside. But his voice came to them through +the thin partition. "Oh, just a couple o' stony-broke Paddylanders." +Mahony, who had seized the opportunity to dart an angry glance at +Purdy, which should say: "This is what one gets by coming to your +second-rate pettifoggers!" now let his eyes rest on his friend and +critically detailed the latter's appearance. The description fitted to +a nicety. Purdy did in truth look down on his luck. Unkempt, bearded to +the eyes, there he stood clutching his shapeless old cabbage-tree, in +mud-stained jumper and threadbare smalls—the very spit of the +unsuccessful digger. Well might they be suspected of not owning the +necessary to pay their way! +</P> + +<P> +"All serene, mister! The boss'ull take you on." +</P> + +<P> +The sanctum was a trifle larger than the outer room, but almost equally +bare; half-a-dozen deed-boxes were piled up in one corner. Stalking in +with his chin in the air, Mahony found himself in the presence of a man +of his own age, who sat absorbed in the study of a document. At their +entry two beady grey eyes lifted to take a brief but thorough survey, +and a hand with a pencil in it pointed to the single empty chair. +Mahony declined to translate the gesture and remained standing. +</P> + +<P> +Under the best of circumstances it irked him to be kept waiting. Here, +following on the clerk's saucy familiarity, the wilful delay made his +gorge rise. For a few seconds he fumed in silence; then, his patience +exhausted, he burst out: "My time, sir, is as precious as your own. +With your permission, I will take my business elsewhere." +</P> + +<P> +At these words, and at the tone in which they were spoken, the lawyer's +head shot up as if he had received a blow under the chin. Again he +narrowed his eyes at the couple. And this time he laid the document +from him and asked suavely: "What can I do for you?" +</P> + +<P> +The change in his manner though slight was unmistakable. Mahony had a +nice ear for such refinements, and responded to the shade of difference +with the promptness of one who had been on the watch for it. His +irritation fell; he was ready on the instant to be propitiated. Putting +his hat aside he sat down, and having introduced himself, made +reference to Ballarat and his acquaintance with the lawyer's father: +"Who directed me to you, sir, for advice on a vexatious affair, in +which I have had the misfortune to become involved." +</P> + +<P> +With a "Pray be seated!" Ocock rose and cleared a chair for Purdy. +Resuming his seat he joined his hands, and wound them in and out. "I +think you may take it from me that no case is so unpromising but what +we shall be able to find a loophole." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony thanked him—with a touch of reserve. "I trust you will still be +of that opinion when you have heard the facts." And went on: "Myself, I +do not doubt it. I am not a rich man, but serious though the monetary +loss would be to me, I should settle the matter out of court, were I +not positive that I had right on my side." To which Ocock returned a +quick: "Oh, quite so ... of course." +</P> + +<P> +Like his old father, he was a short, heavily built man; but there the +likeness ended. He had a high, domed forehead, above a thin, hooked +nose. His skin was of an almost Jewish pallor. Fringes of straight, +jet-black hair grew down the walls of his cheeks and round his chin, +meeting beneath it. The shaven upper lid was long and flat, with no +central markings, and helped to form a mouth that had not much more +shape or expression than a slit cut by a knife in a sheet of paper. The +chin was bare to the size of a crown-piece; and, both while he spoke +and while he listened to others speaking, the lawyer caressed this +patch with his finger-tips; so that in the course of time it had +arrived at a state of high polish—like the shell of an egg. +</P> + +<P> +The air with which he heard his new client out was of a non-committal +kind; and Mahony, having talked his first heat off, grew chilled by the +wet blanket of Ocock's silence. There was nothing in this of the frank +responsiveness with which your ordinary mortal lends his ear. The brain +behind the dome was, one might be sure, adding, combining, comparing, +and drawing its own conclusions. Why should lawyers, he wondered, treat +those who came to them like children, advancing only in so far as it +suited them out of the darkness where they housed among strangely +worded paragraphs and obscure formulas?—But these musings were cut +short. Having fondled his chin for a further moment, Ocock looked up +and put a question. And, while he could not but admire the lawyer's +acumen, this did not lessen Mahony's discomfort. All unguided, it went +straight for what he believed to be the one weak spot in his armour. It +related to the drayman. Contrary to custom Mahony had, on this +occasion, himself recommended the driver. And, as he admitted it, his +ears rang again with the plaints of his stranded fellow-countryman, a +wheedler from the South Country, off whose tongue the familiar brogue +had dripped like honey. His recommendation, he explained, had been made +out of charity; he had not forced the agent to engage the man; and it +would surely be a gross injustice if he alone were to be held +responsible. +</P> + +<P> +To his relief Ocock did not seem to attach importance to the fact, but +went on to ask whether any written agreement had existed between the +parties. "No writing? H'm! So ... so!" To read his thoughts was an +impossibility; but as he proceeded with his catechism it was easy to +see how his interest in the case grew. He began to treat it tenderly; +warmed to it, as an artist to his work; and Mahony's spirits rose in +consequence. +</P> + +<P> +Having selected a number of minor points that would tell in their +favour, Ocock dilated upon the libellous aspersion that had been cast +on Mahony's good faith. "My experience has invariably been this, Mr. +Mahony: people who suggest that kind of thing, and accuse others of it, +are those who are accustomed to make use of such means themselves. In +this case, there may have been no goods at all—the thing may prove to +have been a put-up job from beginning to end." +</P> + +<P> +But his hearer's start of surprise was too marked to be overlooked. +"Well, let us take the existence of the goods for granted. But might +they not, being partly of a perishable nature, have gone bad or +otherwise got spoiled on the road, and not have been in a fit condition +for you to receive at your end?" +</P> + +<P> +This was credible; Mahony nodded his assent. He also added, +gratuitously, that he had before now been obliged to reclaim on casks +of mouldy mess-pork. At which Ocock ceased coddling his chin to point a +straight forefinger at him, with a triumphant: "You see!"—But Purdy +who, sick and tired of the discussion, had withdrawn to the window to +watch the rain zig-zag in runlets down the dusty panes, and hiss and +spatter on the sill; Purdy puckered his lips to a sly and soundless +whistle. +</P> + +<P> +The interview at an end, Ocock mentioned, in his frigidly urbane way, +that he had recently been informed there was an excellent opening for a +firm of solicitors in Ballarat: could Mr. Mahony, as a resident, +confirm the report? Mahony regretted his ignorance, but spoke in praise +of the Golden City and its assured future.—"This would be most welcome +news to your father, sir. I can picture his satisfaction on hearing it." +</P> + +<P> +—"Golly, Dick, that's no mopoke!" was Purdy's comment as they emerged +into the rain-swept street. "A crafty devil, if ever I see'd one." +</P> + +<P> +"Henry Ocock seems to me to be a singularly able man," replied Mahony +drily. To his thinking, Purdy had cut a poor figure during the visit: +he had said no intelligent word, but had lounged lumpishly in his +chair—the very picture of the country man come up to the +metropolis—and, growing tired of this, had gone like a restless child +to thrum his fingers on the panes. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you bet! He'll slither you through." +</P> + +<P> +"What? Do you insinuate there's any need for slithering ... as you call +it?" cried Mahony. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Dick, old man.... And as long as he gets you through, what does +it matter?" +</P> + +<P> +"It matters to me, sir!" +</P> + +<P> +The rain, a tropical deluge, was over by the time they reached the +hollow. The sun shone again, hot and sticky, and people were venturing +forth from their shelters to wade through beds of mud, or to cross, on +planks, the deep, swift rivers formed by the open drains. There were +several such cloud-bursts in the course of the afternoon; and each time +the refuse of the city was whirled past on the flood, to be left as an +edging to the footpaths when the water went down. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony spent the rest of the day in getting together a fresh load of +goods. For, whether he lost or won his suit, the store had to be +restocked without delay. +</P> + +<P> +That evening towards eight o'clock the two men turned out of the +Lowther Arcade. The night was cold, dark and wet; and they had wound +comforters round their bare throats. They were on their way to the +Mechanics' Hall, to hear a lecture on Mesmerism. Mahony had looked +forward to this all through the sorry job of choosing soaps and +candles. The subject piqued his curiosity. It was the one drop of +mental stimulant he could hope to extract from his visit. The theatre +was out of the question: if none of the actors happened to be drunk, a +fair proportion of the audience was sure to be. +</P> + +<P> +Part of his pleasure this evening was due to Purdy having agreed to +accompany him. It was always a matter of regret to Mahony that, outside +the hobnob of daily life, he and his friend had so few interests in +common; that Purdy should rest content with the coarse diversions of +the ordinary digger. +</P> + +<P> +Then, from the black shadows of the Arcade, a woman's form detached +itself, and a hand was laid on Purdy's arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Shout us a drink, old pal!" +</P> + +<P> +Mahony made a quick, repellent movement of the shoulder. But Purdy, +some vagrom fancy quickened in him, either by the voice, which was not +unrefined, or by the stealthiness of the approach, Purdy turned to look. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, come, my boy. We've no time to lose." +</P> + +<P> +Without raising her pleasant voice, the woman levelled a volley of +abuse at Mahony, then muttered a word in Purdy's ear. +</P> + +<P> +"Just half a jiff, Dick," said Purdy. "Or go ahead.—I'll make up on +you." +</P> + +<P> +For a quarter of an hour Mahony aired his heels in front of a +public-house. Then he gave it up, and went on his way. But his pleasure +was damped: the inconsiderateness with which Purdy could shake him off, +always had a disconcerting effect on him. To face the matter squarely: +the friendship between them did not mean as much to Purdy as to him; +the sudden impulse that had made the boy relinquish a promising +clerkship to emigrate in his wake—into this he had read more than it +would hold.— And, as he picked his muddy steps, Mahony agreed with +himself that the net result, for him, of Purdy's coming to the colony, +had been to saddle him with a new responsibility. It was his lot for +ever to be helping the lad out of tight places. Sometimes it made him +feel unnecessarily bearish. For Purdy had the knack, common to sunny, +improvident natures, of taking everything that was done for him for +granted. His want of delicacy in this respect was distressing. Yet, in +spite of it all, it was hard to bear him a grudge for long together. A +well-meaning young beggar if ever there was one! That very day how +faithfully he had stuck at his side, assisting at dull discussions and +duller purchasings, without once obtruding his own concerns.—And here +Mahony remembered their talk on the ride to town. Purdy had expressed +the wish to settle down and take a wife. A poor friend that would be +who did not back him up in this intention. +</P> + +<P> +As he sidled into one of the front benches of a half-empty hall—the +mesmerist, a corpse-like man in black, already surveyed its thinness +from the platform with an air of pained surprise—Mahony decided that +Purdy should have his chance. The heavy rains of the day, and the +consequent probable flooding of the Ponds and the Marsh, would serve as +an excuse for a change of route. He would go and have a look at Purdy's +sweetheart; would ride back to the diggings by way of Geelong. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0106"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VI +</H3> + +<P> +In a whitewashed parlour of "Beamish's Family Hotel" some few miles +north of Geelong, three young women, in voluminous skirts and with +their hair looped low over their ears, sat at work. Books lay open on +the table before two of them; the third was making a bookmark. Two were +fair, plump, rosy, and well over twenty; the third, pale-skinned and +dark, was still a very young girl. She it was who stitched magenta +hieroglyphics on a strip of perforated cardboard. +</P> + +<P> +"Do lemme see, Poll," said the eldest of the trio, and laid down her +pen. "You 'AVE bin quick about it, my dear." +</P> + +<P> +Polly, the brunette, freed her needle of silk and twirled the bookmark +by its ribbon ends. Spinning, the mystic characters united to form the +words: "Kiss me quick." +</P> + +<P> +Her companions tittered. "If ma didn't know for certain 'twas meant for +your brother John, she'd never 'ave let you make it," said the second +blonde, whose name was Jinny. +</P> + +<P> +"Girls, what a lark it 'ud be to send it up to Purdy Smith, by Ned!" +said the first speaker. +</P> + +<P> +Polly blushed. "Fy, Tilly! That wouldn't be ladylike." +</P> + +<P> +Tilly's big bosom rose and fell in a sigh. "What's a lark never is." +</P> + +<P> +Jinny giggled, agreeably scandalized: "What things you do say, Till! +Don't let ma 'ear you, that's all." +</P> + +<P> +"Ma be blowed!—'Ow does this look now, Polly?" And across the +wax-cloth Tilly pushed a copybook, in which she had laboriously +inscribed a prim maxim the requisite number of times. +</P> + +<P> +Polly laid down her work and knitted her brows over the page. +</P> + +<P> +"Well ... it's better than the last one, Tilly," she said gently, +averse to hurting her pupil's feelings. "But still not quite good +enough. The f's, look, should be more like this." And taking a steel +pen she made several long-tailed f's, in a tiny, pointed hand. +</P> + +<P> +Tilly yielded an ungrudging admiration. "'Ow well you do it, Poll! But +I HATE writing. If only ma weren't so set on it!" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll never be able to write yourself to a certain person, 'oos name +I won't mention, if you don't 'urry up and learn," said Jinny, looking +sage. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the odds! We've always got Poll to write for us," gave back +Tilly, and lazily stretched out a large, plump hand to recover the +copybook. "A certain person'll never know—or not till it's too late." +</P> + +<P> +"Here, Polly dear," said Jinny, and held out a book. "I know it now." +</P> + +<P> +Again Polly put down her embroidery. She took the book. "Plough!" said +she. +</P> + +<P> +"Plough?" echoed Jinny vaguely, and turned a pair of soft, cow-like +brown eyes on the blowflies sitting sticky and sleepy round the walls +of the room. "Wait a jiff ... lemme think! Plough? Oh, yes, I know. +P-l...." +</P> + +<P> +"P-l-o" prompted Polly, the speller coming to a full stop. +</P> + +<P> +"P-l-o-w!" shot out Jinny, in triumph. +</P> + +<P> +"Not QUITE right," said Polly. "It's g-h, Jinny: p-l-o-u-g-h." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, that's what I meant. I knew it right enough." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, now, trough!" +</P> + +<P> +"Trough?" repeated Jinny, in the same slow, vacant way. +</P> + +<P> +"Trough? Wait, lemme think a minute. T-r-o...." +</P> + +<P> +Polly's lips all but formed the "u," to prevent the "f" she felt +impending. "I'm afraid you'll have to take it again, Jinny dear," she +said reluctantly, as nothing further was forthcoming. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, Poll. T-r-o-" began Jinny with fresh vigour. But before she +could add a fourth to the three letters, a heavy foot pounded down the +passage, and a stout woman, out of breath, her cap-bands flying, came +bustling in and slammed the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Girls, girls, now whatever d'ye think? 'Ere's Purdy Smith come ridin' +inter the yard, an' another gent with 'im. Scuttle along now, an' put +them books away!—Tilda, yer net's 'alf 'angin' off—you don't want yer +sweet-'eart to see you all untidy like that, do you?—'Elp 'em, Polly +my dear, and be quick about it!—H'out with yer sewin', chicks!" +</P> + +<P> +Sprung up from their seats the three girls darted to and fro. The +telltale spelling and copy-books were flung into the drawer of the +chiffonier, and the key was turned on them. Polly, her immodest sampler +safely hidden at the bottom of her workbox, was the most composed of +the three; and while locks were smoothed and collars adjusted in the +adjoining bedroom, she remained behind to look out thimbles, needles +and strips of plain sewing, and to lay them naturally about the table. +</P> + +<P> +The blonde sisters reappeared, all aglow with excitement. Tilly, in +particular, was in a sad flutter. +</P> + +<P> +"Girls, I simply CAN'T face 'im in 'ere!" she declared. "It was 'ere, +in this very room, that 'e first—you know what!" +</P> + +<P> +"Nor can I," cried Jinny, catching the fever. +</P> + +<P> +"Feel my 'eart, 'ow it beats," said her sister, pressing her hands, one +over the other, to her full left breast. +</P> + +<P> +"Mine's every bit as bad," averred Jinny. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe I shall 'ave the palpitations and faint away, if I stop +'ere." +</P> + +<P> +Polly was genuinely concerned. "I'll run and call mother back." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I tell you what: let's 'ide!" cried Tilly, recovering. +</P> + +<P> +Jinny wavered. "But will they find us?" +</P> + +<P> +"Duffer! Of course. Ma'll give 'em the 'int.—Come on!" +</P> + +<P> +Suiting the action to the word, and imitated by her sister, she +scrambled over the window sill to the verandah. Polly found herself +alone. Her conscientious scrupling: "But mother may be cross!" had +passed unheeded. Now, she, too, fell into a flurry. She could not +remain there, by herself, to meet two young men, one of whom was a +stranger: steps and voices were already audible at the end of the +passage. And so, since there was nothing else for it, she clambered +after her friends—though with difficulty; for she was not very tall. +</P> + +<P> +This was why, when Mrs. Beamish flourished open the door, exclaiming in +a hearty tone: "An' 'ere you'll find 'em, gents—sittin' at their +needles, busy as bees!" the most conspicuous object in the room was a +very neat leg, clad in a white stocking and black prunella boot, which +was just being drawn up over the sill. It flashed from sight; and the +patter of running feet beat the floor of the verandah. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha, too late! The birds have flown," laughed Purdy, and smacked +his thigh. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I declare, an' so they 'ave—the NAUGHTY creatures!" exclaimed +Mrs. Beamish in mock dismay. "But trust you, Mr. Smith, for sayin' the +right thing. Jus' exackly like birds they are—so shy an' scared-like. +But I'll give you the 'int, gents. They'll not be far away. Jus' you +show 'em two can play at that game.—Mr. S., you know the h'arbour!" +</P> + +<P> +"Should say I do! Many's the time I've anchored there," cried Purdy +with a guffaw. "Come, Dick!" And crossing to the window he straddled +over the frame, and disappeared. +</P> + +<P> +Reluctantly Mahony followed him. +</P> + +<P> +From the verandah they went down into the vegetable-garden, where the +drab and tangled growths that had outlived the summer were beaten flat +by the recent rains. At the foot of the garden, behind a clump of +gooseberry-bushes, stood an arbour formed of a yellow buddleia. No +trace of a petticoat was visible, so thick was the leafage; but a loud +whispering and tittering betrayed the fugitives. +</P> + +<P> +At the apparition of the young men, who stooped to the low entrance, +there was a cascade of shrieks. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, lor, 'OW you frightened me! 'Owever did you know we were 'ere?" +</P> + +<P> +"You wicked fellow! Get away, will you! I 'ate the very sight of +you!"—this from Tilly, as Purdy, his hands on her hips, gave her a +smacking kiss. +</P> + +<P> +The other girls feared a like greeting; there were more squeaks and +squeals, and some ineffectual dives for the doorway. Purdy spread out +his arms. "Hi, look out, stop 'em, Dick! Now then, man, here's your +chance!" +</P> + +<P> +Mahony stood blinking; it was dusk inside, after the dazzle of the sun. +At this reminder of the foolish bet he had taken, he hurriedly seized +the young woman who was next him, and embraced her. It chanced to be +Jinny. She screamed, and made a feint of feeling mortally outraged. +Mahony had to dodge a box on the ears. +</P> + +<P> +But Purdy burst into a horselaugh, and held his sides. Without knowing +why, Tilly joined in, and Jinny, too, was infected. When Purdy could +speak, he blurted out: "Dick, you fathead!—you jackass!—you've mugged +the wrong one." +</P> + +<P> +At this clownish mirth, Mahony felt the blood boil up over ears and +temples. For an instant he stood irresolute. Did he admit the blunder, +his victim would be hurt. Did he deny it, he would save his own face at +the expense of the other young woman's feelings. So, though he could +have throttled Purdy he put a bold front on the matter. +</P> + +<P> +"CARPE DIEM is my motto, my boy! I intend to make both young ladies pay +toll." +</P> + +<P> +His words were the signal for a fresh scream and flutter: the third +young person had escaped, and was flying down the path. This called for +chase and capture. She was not very agile but she knew the ground, +which, outside the garden, was rocky and uneven. For a time, she had +Mahony at vantage; his heart was not in the game: in cutting +undignified capers among the gooseberry-bushes he felt as foolish as a +performing dog. Then, however, she caught her toe in her dress and +stumbled. He could not disregard the opportunity; he advanced upon her. +</P> + +<P> +But two beseeching hands fended him off. "No ... no. Please ... oh, +PLEASE, don't!" +</P> + +<P> +This was no catchpenny coquetry; it was a genuine dread of undue +familiarity. A kindred trait in Mahony's own nature rose to meet it. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not, if it is disagreeable to you. Shall we shake hands +instead?" +</P> + +<P> +Two of the blackest eyes he had ever seen were raised to his, and a +flushed face dimpled. They shook hands, and he offered his arm. +</P> + +<P> +Halfway to the arbour, they met the others coming to find them. The +girls bore diminutive parasols; and Purdy, in rollicking spirits, Tilly +on one arm, Jinny on the other, held Polly's above his head. On the +appearance of the laggards, Jinny, who had put her own interpretation +on the misplaced kiss, prepared to free her arm; but Purdy, winking at +his friend, squeezed it to his side and held her prisoner. +</P> + +<P> +Tilly buzzed a word in his ear. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, by thunder!" he ejaculated; and letting go of his companions, he +spun round like a ballet-dancer. "Ladies! Let me introduce to you my +friend, Dr. Richard Townshend-Mahony, F.R.C.S., M.D., Edinburgh, at +present proprietor of the 'Diggers' Emporium,' Dead Dog Hill, Ballarat. +—Dick, my hearty, Miss Tilly Beamish, world-famed for her sauce; Miss +Jinny, renowned for her skill in casting the eyes of sheep; and, last +but not least, pretty little Polly Perkins, alias Miss Polly Turnham, +whose good deeds put those of Dorcas to the blush." +</P> + +<P> +The Misses Beamish went into fits of laughter, and Tilly hit Purdy over +the back with her parasol. +</P> + +<P> +But the string of letters had puzzled them, roused their curiosity. +</P> + +<P> +"What'n earth do they mean?—Gracious! So clever! It makes me feel +quite queer." +</P> + +<P> +"Y'ought to 'ave told us before 'and, Purd, so's we could 'ave studied +up." +</P> + +<P> +However, a walk to a cave was under discussion, and Purdy urged them +on. "Phoebus is on the wane, girls. And it's going to be damn cold +to-night." +</P> + +<P> +Once more with the young person called Polly as companion, Mahony +followed after. He walked in silence, listening to the rattle of the +three in front. At best he was but a poor hand at the kind of repartee +demanded of their swains by these young women; and to-day his slender +talent failed him altogether, crushed by the general tone of vulgar +levity. Looking over at the horizon, which swam in a kind of gold-dust +haze below the sinking sun, he smiled thinly to himself at Purdy's +ideas of wiving. +</P> + +<P> +Reminded he was not alone by feeling the hand on his arm tremble, he +glanced down at his companion; and his eye was arrested by a neatly +parted head, of the glossiest black imaginable. +</P> + +<P> +He pulled himself together. "Your cousins are excellent walkers." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, very. But they are not my cousins." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony pricked up his ears. "But you live here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I help moth ... Mrs. Beamish in the house." +</P> + +<P> +But as if, with this, she had said too much, she grew tongue-tied +again; and there was nothing more to be made of her. Taking pity on her +timidity, Mahony tried to put her at ease by talking about himself. He +described his life on the diggings and the straits to which he was at +times reduced: the buttons affixed to his clothing by means of +gingerbeer-bottle wire; his periodic onslaughts on sock-darning; the +celebrated pudding it had taken him over four hours to make. And Polly, +listening to him, forgot her desire to run away. Instead, she could not +help laughing at the tales of his masculine shiftlessness. But as soon +as they came in view of the others, Tilly and Purdy sitting under one +parasol on a rock by the cave, Jinny standing and looking out rather +aggressively after the loiterers, she withdrew her arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Moth ... Mrs. Beamish will need me to help her with tea. And ... and +WOULD you please walk back with Jinny?" +</P> + +<P> +Before he could reply, she had turned and was hurrying away. +</P> + +<P> +They got home from the cave at sundown, he with the ripe Jinny hanging +a dead weight on his arm, to find tea spread in the private parlour. +The table was all but invisible under its load; and their hostess +looked as though she had been parboiled on her own kitchen fire. She +sat and fanned herself with a sheet of newspaper while, time and again, +undaunted by refusals, she pressed the good things upon her guests. +There were juicy beefsteaks piled high with rings of onion, and a +barracoota, and a cold leg of mutton. There were apple-pies and +jam-tarts, a dish of curds-and-whey and a jug of custard. Butter and +bread were fresh and new; scones and cakes had just left the oven; and +the great cups of tea were tempered by pure, thick cream. +</P> + +<P> +To the two men who came from diggers' fare: cold chop for breakfast, +cold chop for dinner and cold chop for tea: the meal was little short +of a banquet; and few words were spoken in its course. But the moment +arrived when they could eat no more, and when even Mrs. Beamish ceased +to urge them. Pipes and pouches were produced; Polly and Jinny rose to +collect the plates, Tilly and her beau to sit on the edge of the +verandah: they could be seen in silhouette against the rising moon, +Tilly's head drooping to Purdy's shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Beamish looked from them to Mahony with a knowing smile, and +whispered behind her hand: "I do wish those two 'ud 'urry up an' make +up their minds, that I do! I'd like to see my Tilda settled. No offence +meant to young Smith. 'E's the best o' good company. But sometimes ... +well, I cud jus' knock their 'eads together when they sit so close, an' +say: come, give over yer spoonin' an' get to business! Either you want +one another or you don't.—I seen you watchin' our Polly, Mr. +Mahony"—she made Mahony wince by stressing the second syllable of his +name. "Bless you, no—no relation whatsoever. She just 'elps a bit in +the 'ouse, an' is company for the girls. We tuck 'er in a year ago—'er +own relations 'ad played 'er a dirty trick. Mustn't let 'er catch me +sayin' so, though; she won't 'ear a word against 'em, and that's as it +should be." +</P> + +<P> +Looking round, and finding Polly absent from the room, she went on to +tell Mahony how Polly's eldest brother, a ten years' resident in +Melbourne, had sent to England for the girl on her leaving school, to +come out and assist in keeping his house. And how an elder sister, who +was governessing in Sydney, had chosen just this moment to throw up her +post and return to quarter herself upon the brother. +</P> + +<P> +"An' so when Polly gets 'ere—a little bit of a thing in short frocks, +in charge of the capt'n—there was no room for 'er, an' she 'ad to look +about 'er for somethin' else to do. We tuck 'er in, an', I will say, +I've never regretted it. Indeed I don't know now, 'ow we ever got on +without 'er.—Yes, it's you I'm talkin' about, miss, singin' yer +praises, an' you needn't get as red as if you'd bin up to mischief! +Pa'll say as much for you, too." +</P> + +<P> +"That I will!" said Mr. Beamish, opening his mouth for the first time +except to put food in it. "That I will," and he patted Polly's hand. +"The man as gits Polly'll git a treasure." +</P> + +<P> +Polly blushed, after the helpless, touching fashion of very young +creatures: the blood stained her cheeks, mounted to her forehead, +spread in a warm wave over neck and ears. To spare her, Mahony turned +his head and looked out of the window. He would have liked to say: Run +away, child, run away, and don't let them see your confusion. Polly, +however, went conscientiously about her task, and only left the room +when she had picked up her full complement of plates.—But she did not +appear again that night. +</P> + +<P> +Deserted even by Mrs. Beamish, the two men pushed back their chairs +from the table and drew tranquilly at their pipes. +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper proved an odd, misty sort of fellow, exceedingly backward +at declaring himself; it was as though each of his heavy words had to +be fetched from a distance. "No doubt about it, it's the wife that +wears the breeches," was Mahony's inward comment. And as one after +another of his well-meant remarks fell flat: "Become almost a +deaf-mute, it would seem, under the eternal female clacking." +</P> + +<P> +But for each mortal there exists at least one theme to fire him. In the +case of Beamish this turned out to be the Land Question. Before the +gold discovery he had been a bush shepherd, he told Mahony, and, if he +had called the tune, he would have lived and died one. But the wife had +had ambitions, the children were growing up, and every one knew what it +was when women got a maggot in their heads. There had been no peace for +him till he had chucked his twelve-year-old job and joined the rush to +Mount Alexander. But at heart he had remained a bushman; and he was now +all on the side of the squatters in their tussle with the Crown. He +knew a bit, he'd make bold to say, about the acreage needed in certain +districts per head of sheep; he could tell a tale of the risks and +mischances squatting involved: "If t'aint fire it's flood, an' if the +water passes you by it's the scab or the rot." To his thinking, the +government's attempt to restrict the areas of sheep-runs, and to give +effect to the "fourteen-year-clause" which limited the tenure, were +acts of folly. The gold supply would give out as suddenly as it had +begun; but sheep would graze there till the crack of doom—the land was +fit for nothing else. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony thought this point of view lopsided. No new country could hope +to develop and prosper without a steady influx of the right kind of +population and this the colony would never have, so long as the +authorities, by refusing to sell them land, made it impossible for +immigrants to settle there. Why, America was but three thousand miles +distant from the old country, compared with Australia's thirteen +thousand, and in America land was to be had in plenty at five shillings +per acre. As to Mr. Beamish's idea of the gold giving out, the +geological formation of the goldfields rendered that improbable. He +sympathised with the squatters, who naturally enough believed their +rights to the land inalienable; but a government worthy of the name +must legislate with an eye to the future, not for the present alone. +</P> + +<P> +Their talk was broken by long gaps. In these, the resonant voice of +Mrs. Beamish could be heard rebuking and directing her two handmaidens. +</P> + +<P> +"Now then, Jinny, look alive, an' don't ack like a dyin' duck in a +thunderstorm, or you'll never get back to do YOUR bit o' spoonin'!— +Save them bones, Polly. Never waste an atom, my chuck—remember that, +when you've got an 'ouse of your own! No, girls, I always says, through +their stomachs, that's the shortcut to their 'earts. The rest's on'y +fal-de-lal-ing."—On the verandah, in face of the vasty, star-spangled +night, Tilly's head had found its resting-place, and an arm lay round +her waist. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall make 'im cut off 'is beard first thing," said Jinny that +night: she was sitting half-undressed on the side of a big bed, which +the three girls shared with one another. +</P> + +<P> +"Um! just you wait and see if it's as easy as you think," retorted +Tilly from her pillow. Again Purdy had let slip a golden chance to put +the decisive question; and Tilly's temper was short in consequence. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Dr. Mahony ... though I do wonder 'ow 'e ever keeps people from +saying Ma-HON-y," said Jinny dreamily. She, too, had spent some time in +star-gazing, and believed she had ground for hope. +</P> + +<P> +"Just listen to 'er, will you!" said Tilly angrily. "Upon my word, +Jinny Beamish, if one didn't know you 'ad the 'abit of marrying +yourself off to every fresh cove you meet, one 'ud say you was +downright bold!" +</P> + +<P> +"YOU needn't talk! Every one can see you're as mad as can be because +you can't bring your old dot-and-go-one to the scratch." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, hush, Jinny" said Polly, grieved at this thrust into Tilly's open +wound. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's true.—Oh, look 'ere now, there's not a drop o' water in +this blessed jug again. 'Oo's week is it to fill it? Tilly B., it's +yours!" +</P> + +<P> +"Serves you right. You can fetch it yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"Think I see myself!" +</P> + +<P> +Polly intervened. "I'll go for it, Jinny." +</P> + +<P> +"What a little duck you are, Poll! But you shan't go alone. I'll carry +the candle." +</P> + +<P> +Tying on a petticoat over her bedgown, Polly took the ewer, and with +Jinny as torch-bearer set forth. There was still some noise in the +public part of the house, beside the bar; but the passage was bare and +quiet. The girls crept mousily past the room occupied by the two young +men, and after several false alarms and suppressed chirps reached the +back door, and filled the jug at the tap of the galvanised-iron tank. +</P> + +<P> +The return journey was not so successful. Just as they got level with +the visitors' room, they heard feet crossing the floor. Polly started; +the water splashed over the neck of the jug, and fell with a loud plop. +At this Jinny lost her head and ran off with the candle. Polly, in a +panic of fright, dived into the pantry with her burden, and crouched +down behind a tub of fermenting gingerbeer.—And sure enough, a minute +after, the door of the room opposite was flung open and a pair of +jackboots landed in the passage. +</P> + +<P> +Nor was this the worst: the door was not shut again but remained ajar. +Through the chink, Polly, shrunk to her smallest—what if one of them +should feel hungry, and come into the pantry and discover her?—Polly +heard Purdy say with appalling loudness: "Oh, go on, old man-don't jaw +so!" He then seemed to plunge his head in the basin, for it was with a +choke and a splutter that he next inquired: "And what did you think of +the little 'un? Wasn't I right?" +</P> + +<P> +There was the chink of coins handled, and the other voice answered: +"Here's what I think. Take your money, my boy, and be done with it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Dick!—Great Snakes! Why, damn it all, man, you don't mean to tell +me...." +</P> + +<P> +"And understand, sir, in future, that I do not make bets where a lady +is concerned." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I know—only on the Tilly-Jinny-sort. And yet good Lord, +Dick!"—the rest was drowned in a bawl of laughter. +</P> + +<P> +Under cover of it Polly took to her heels and fled, regardless of the +open door, or the padding of her bare feet on the boards. +</P> + +<P> +Without replying to the astonished Jinny's query in respect of the +water, she climbed over Tilly to her place beside the wall, and +shutting her eyes very tight, drew the sheet over her face: it felt as +though it would never be cool again.—Hence, Jinny, agreeably wakeful, +was forced to keep her thoughts to herself; for if you lie between two +people, one of whom is in a bad temper, and the other fast asleep, you +might just as well be alone in bed. +</P> + +<P> +Next morning Polly alleged a headache and did not appear at breakfast. +Only Jinny and Tilly stood on the verandah of romantic memories, and +ruefully waved their handkerchiefs, keeping it up till even the forms +of horses were blurred in the distance. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0107"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VII +</H3> + +<P> +His tent-home had never seemed so comfortless. He ended his solitary +ride late at night and wet to the skin; his horse had cast a shoe far +from any smithy. Long Jim alone came to the door to greet him. The +shopman, on whose doltish honesty Mahony would have staked his head, +had profited by his absence to empty the cash-box and go off on the +spree.— Even one of the cats had met its fate in an old shaft, where +its corpse still swam. +</P> + +<P> +The following day, as a result of exposure and hard riding, Mahony was +attacked by dysentery; and before he had recovered, the goods arrived +from Melbourne. They had to be unloaded, at some distance from the +store, conveyed there, got under cover, checked off and arranged. This +was carried out in sheets of cold rain, which soaked the canvas walls +and made it doubly hard to get about the clay tracks that served as +streets. As if this were not enough, the river in front of the house +rose—rose, and in two twos was over its banks—and he and Long Jim +spent a night in their clothes, helping neighbours less fortunately +placed to move their belongings into safety. +</P> + +<P> +The lion's share of this work fell on him. Long Jim still carried his +arm in a sling, and was good for nothing but to guard the store and +summon Mahony on the appearance of customers. Since his accident, too, +the fellow had suffered from frequent fits of colic or cramp, and was +for ever slipping off to the township to find the spirits in which his +employer refused to deal. For the unloading and warehousing of the +goods, it was true, old Ocock had loaned his sons; but the strict watch +Mahony felt bound to keep over this pretty pair far outweighed what +their help was worth to him. +</P> + +<P> +Now it was Sunday evening, and for the first time for more than a week +he could call his soul his own again. He stood at the door and watched +those of his neighbours who were not Roman Catholics making for church +and chapel, to which half a dozen tinkly bells invited them. The +weather had finally cleared up, and a goodly number of people waded +past him through the mire. Among them, in seemly Sabbath dress, went +Ocock, with his two black sheep at heel. The old man was a rigid +Methodist, and at a recent prayer-meeting had been moved to bear public +witness to his salvation. This was no doubt one reason why the young +scapegrace Tom's almost simultaneous misconduct had been so bitter a +pill for him to swallow: while, through God's mercy, he was become an +exemplar to the weaker brethren, a son of his made his name to stink in +the nostrils of the reputable community. Mahony liked to believe that +there was good in everybody, and thought the intolerant harshness which +the boy was subjected would defeat its end. Yet it was open to question +if clemency would have answered better. "Bad eggs, the brace of them!" +had been his own verdict, after a week's trial of the lads. One would +not, the other apparently could not work. Johnny, the elder, was dull +and liverish from intemperance; and the round-faced adolescent, the +news of whose fatherhood had raced the wind, was so sheep-faced, so +craven, in the presence of his elders, that he could not say bo to a +battledore. There was something unnatural about this fierce +timidity—and the doctor in Mahony caught a quick glimpse of the +probable reverse of the picture. +</P> + +<P> +But it was cold, in face of all this rain-soaked clay; cold blue-grey +clouds drove across a washed-out sky; and he still felt unwell. +Returning to his living-room where a small American stove was burning, +he prepared for a quiet evening. In a corner by the fire stood an old +packing-case. He lifted the lid and thrust his hand in: it was here he +kept his books. He needed no light to see by; he knew each volume by +the feel. And after fumbling for a little among the tumbled contents, +he drew forth a work on natural science and sat down to read. But he +did not get far; his brain was tired, intractable. Lighting his pipe, +he tilted back his chair, laid the VESTIGES face downwards, and put his +feet on the table. +</P> + +<P> +How differently bashfulness impressed one in the case of the weaker +sex! There, it was altogether pleasing. Young Ocock's gaucherie had +recalled the little maid Polly's ingenuous confusion, at finding +herself the subject of conversation. He had not once consciously +thought of Polly since his return. Now, when he did so, he found to his +surprise that she had made herself quite a warm little nest in his +memory. Looked back on, she stood out in high relief against her +somewhat graceless surroundings. Small doubt she was both maidenly and +refined. He also remembered with a sensible pleasure her brisk service, +her consideration for others. What a boon it would have been, during +the past week, to have a busy, willing little woman at work, with him +and for him, behind the screen! As it was, for want of a helping hand +the place was like a pigsty. He had had neither time nor energy to +clean up. The marks of hobnailed boots patterned the floor; loose mud, +and crumbs from meals, had been swept into corners or under the +stretcher-bed; while commodities that had overflowed the shop added to +the disorder. Good Lord, no! ... no place this for a woman. +</P> + +<P> +He rose and moved restlessly about, turning things over with his foot: +these old papers should be burnt, and that heap of straw-packing; those +empty sardine and coffee-tins be thrown into the refuse-pit. Scrubbed +and clean, it was by no means an uncomfortable room; and the stove drew +well. He was proud of his stove; many houses had not even a chimney. He +stood and stared at it; but his thoughts were elsewhere: he found +himself trying to call to mind Polly's face. Except for a pair of big +black eyes—magnificent eyes they seemed to him in retrospect—he had +carried away with him nothing of her outward appearance. Yes, +stay!—her hair: her hair was so glossy that, when the sun caught it, +high lights came out on it—so much he remembered. From this he fell to +wondering whether her brain kept pace with her nimble hands and ways. +Was she stupid or clever? He could not tolerate stupidity. And Polly +had given him no chance to judge her; had hardly opened her lips before +him. What a timid little thing she was to be sure! He should have made +it his business to draw her out, by being kind and encouraging. Instead +of which he had acted towards her, he felt convinced, like an +ill-mannered boor. +</P> + +<P> +He did not know how it was, but he couldn't detach his thoughts from +Polly this evening: to their accompaniment he paced up and down. All of +a sudden he stood still, and gave a short, hearty laugh. He had just +seen, in a kind of phantom picture, the feet of the sisters Beamish as +they sat on the verandah edge: both young women wore flat sandal-shoes. +And so that neatest of neat ankles had been little Polly's property! +For his life he loved a well-turned ankle in a woman. +</P> + +<P> +A minute later he sat down at the table again. An idea had occurred to +him: he would write Polly a letter—a letter that called for +acknowledgment—and form an opinion of the girl from her reply. Taking +a sheet of thin blue paper and a magnum bonum pen he wrote: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +DEAR MISS TURNHAM, +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +I WONDER IF I MIGHT ASK YOU TO DO ME A FAVOUR? ON GETTING BACK TO +BALLARAT, I FIND THAT THE RAIN HAS SPOILT MY STORE FLAG. WOULD YOU BE +SO KIND AS TO MAKE ME A NEW ONE? I HAVE NO LADY FRIENDS HERE TO APPLY +TO FOR HELP, AND I AM SURE YOU ARE CLEVER WITH YOUR NEEDLE. IF YOU +CONSENT, I WILL SEND YOU THE OLD FLAG AS A PATTERN, AND STUFF FOR THE +NEW ONE. MY KIND REGARDS TO ALL AT THE HOTEL. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +FAITHFULLY YOURS, +<BR> +RICHARD TOWNSHEND-MAHONY. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +P.S. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN OUR PLEASANT WALK TO THE CAVE. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +He went out to the post with it himself. In one hand he carried the +letter, in the other the candle-end stuck in a bottle that was known as +a "Ballarat-lantern" for it was a pitchdark night. +</P> + +<P> +Trade was slack; in consequence he found the four days that had to pass +before he could hope for an answer exceptionally long. After their +lapse, he twice spent an hour at the Post Office, in a fruitless +attempt to get near the little window. On returning from the second of +these absences, he found the letter waiting for him; it had been +delivered by hand. +</P> + +<P> +So far good: Polly had risen to his fly! He broke the seal. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +DEAR SIR, +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +I shall be happy to help you with your new flag if I am able. Will you +kindly send the old one and the stuff down by my brother, who is coming +to see me on Saturday. He is working at Rotten Gully, and his name is +Ned. I do not know if I sew well enough to please you, but I will do my +best. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +I REMAIN, +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +YOURS TRULY, +<BR> +MARY TURNHAM. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Mahony read, smiled and laid the letter down—only to pick it up again. +It pleased him, did this prim little note: there was just the right +shade of formal reserve about it. Then he began to study particulars: +grammar and spelling were correct; the penmanship was in the Italian +style, minute, yet flowing, the letters dowered with generous loops and +tails. But surely he had seen this writing before? By Jupiter, yes! +This was the hand of the letter Purdy had shown him on the road to +Melbourne. The little puss! So she not only wrote her own letters, but +those of her friends as well. In that case she was certainly not stupid +for she was much the youngest of the three. +</P> + +<P> +To-day was Thursday. Summoning Long Jim from his seat behind the +counter, Mahony dispatched him to Rotten Gully, with an injunction not +to show himself till he had found a digger of the name of Turnham. And +having watched Jim set out, at a snail's pace and murmuring to himself, +Mahony went into the store, and measured and cut off material for the +new flag, from two different coloured rolls of stuff. +</P> + +<P> +It was ten o'clock that night before Polly's brother presented himself. +Mahony met him at the door and drew him in: the stove crackled, the +room was swept and garnished—he flattered himself that the report on +his habitat would be a favourable one. Ned's appearance gave him a +pleasant shock: it was just as if Polly herself, translated into male +terms, stood before him. No need, now, to cudgel his brains for her +image! In looking at Ned, he looked again at Polly. The wide-awake off, +the same fine, soft, black hair came to light—here, worn rather long +and curly—the same glittering black eyes, ivory-white skin, short, +straight nose; and, as he gazed, an offshoot of Mahony's consciousness +wondered from what quarter this middle-class English family fetched its +dark, un-English strain. +</P> + +<P> +In the beginning he exerted himself to set the lad at ease. He soon +saw, however, that he might spare his pains. Though clearly not much +more than eighteen years old, Ned Turnharn had the aplomb and assurance +of double that age. Lolling back in the single armchair the room +boasted, he more than once stretched out his hand and helped himself +from the sherry bottle Mahony had placed on the table. And the +disparity in their ages notwithstanding, there was no trace of +deference in his manner. Or the sole hint of it was: he sometimes +smothered a profane word, or apologised, with a winning smile, for an +oath that had slipped out unawares. Mahony could not accustom him self +to the foul language that formed the diggers' idiom. Here, in the case +of Polly's brother, he sought to overlook the offence, or to lay the +blame for it on other shoulders: at his age, and alone, the boy should +never have been plunged into this Gehenna. +</P> + +<P> +Ned talked mainly of himself and his doings. But other facts also +transpired, of greater interest to his hearer. Thus Mahony learned +that, out of a family of nine, four had found their way to the colony, +and a fifth was soon to follow—a mere child this, on the under side of +fifteen. He gathered, too, that the eldest brother, John by name, was +regarded as a kind of Napoleon by the younger fry. At thirty, this John +was a partner in the largest wholesale dry-goods' warehouse in +Melbourne. He had also married money, and intended in due course to +stand for the Legislative Council. Behind Ned's windy bragging Mahony +thought he discerned tokens of a fond, brotherly pride. If this were +so, the affair had its pathetic side; for, from what the boy said, it +was evident that the successful man of business held his relatives at +arm's length. And as Ned talked on, Mahony conceived John to himself as +a kind of electro-magnet, which, once it had drawn these lesser +creatures after it, switched off the current and left them to their own +devices. Ned, young as he was, had tried his hand at many trades. At +present he was working as a hired digger; but this, only till he could +strike a softer job. Digging was not for him, thank you; what you +earned at it hardly repaid you for the sweat you dripped. His every +second word, indeed, was of how he could amass most money with the +minimum of bodily exertion. +</P> + +<P> +This calculating, unyouthful outlook was repugnant to Mahony, and for +all his goodwill, the longer he listened to Ned, the cooler he felt +himself grow. Another disagreeable impression was left by the grudging, +if-nothing-better-turns-up fashion, in which Ned accepted an impulsive +offer on his part to take him into the store. It was made on the spur +of the moment, and Mahony had qualms about it while his words were +still warm on the air, realizing that the overture was aimed, not at +Ned in person, but at Ned as Polly's brother. But his intuition did not +reconcile him to Ned's luke-warmness; he would have preferred a +straight refusal. The best trait he could discover in the lad was his +affection for his sister. This seemed genuine: he was going to see her +again—getting a lift halfway, tramping the other twenty odd miles—at +the end of the week. Perhaps though, in the case of such a young +opportunist, the thought of Mrs. Beamish's lavish board played no small +part; for Ned had a rather lean, underfed look. But this only occurred +to Mahony afterwards. Then, his chief vexation was with himself: it +would have been kinder to set a dish of solid food before the boy, in +place of the naked sherry-bottle. But as usual, his hospitable leanings +came too late. +</P> + +<P> +One thing more. As he lighted Ned and his bundle of stuff through the +shop, he was impelled to slip a coin into the boy's hand, with a +murmured apology for the trouble he had put him to. And a something, +the merest nuance in Ned's manner of receiving and pocketing the money, +flashed the uncomfortable suspicion through the giver's mind that it +had been looked for, expected. And this was the most unpleasant touch +of all. +</P> + +<P> +But, bless his soul! did not most large families include at least one +poorish specimen?—he had got thus far, by the time he came to wind up +his watch for the night. And next day he felt sure he had judged Ned +over-harshly. His first impressions of people—he had had occasion to +deplore the fact before now—were apt to be either dead white or black +as ink; the web of his mind took on no half tints. The boy had not +betrayed any actual vices; and time might be trusted to knock the +bluster out of him. With this reflection Mahony dismissed Ned from his +mind. He had more important things to think of, chief among which was +his own state with regard to Ned's sister. And during the fortnight +that followed he went about making believe to weigh this matter, to +view it from every coign; for it did not suit him, even in secret, to +confess to the vehemence with which, when he much desired a thing, his +temperament knocked flat the hurdles of reason. The truth was, his mind +was made up—and had been, all along. At the earliest possible +opportunity, he was going to ask Polly to be his wife. +</P> + +<P> +Doubts beset him of course. How could he suppose that a girl who knew +nothing of him, who had barely seen him, would either want or consent +to marry him? And even if—for "if's" were cheap—she did say yes, +would it be fair of him to take her out of a comfortable home, away +from friends—such as they were!—of her own sex, to land her in these +crude surroundings, where he did not know a decent woman to bear her +company? Yet there was something to be said for him, too. He was very +lonely. Now that Purdy had gone he was reduced, for society, to the +Long Jims and Ococks of the place. What would he not give, once more to +have a refined companion at his side? Certainly marriage might postpone +the day on which he hoped to shake the dust of Australia off his feet. +Life A DEUX would mean a larger outlay; saving not prove so easy. Still +it could be done; and he would gladly submit to the delay if, by doing +so, he could get Polly. Besides, if this new happiness came to him, it +would help him to see the years he had spent in the colony in a truer +and juster light. And then, when the hour of departure did strike, what +a joy to have a wife to carry with one—a Polly to rescue, to restore +to civilisation! +</P> + +<P> +He had to remind himself more than once, during this fortnight, that +she would be able to devote only a fraction of her day to flagmaking. +But he was at the end of his tether by the time a parcel and a letter +were left for him at the store—again by hand: little Polly had plainly +no sixpences to spare. The needlework as perfect, of course; he hardly +glanced at it, even when he had opened and read the letter. This was of +the same decorous nature as the first. Polly returned a piece of stuff +that had remained over. He had really sent material enough for two +flags, she wrote; but she had not wished to keep him waiting so long. +And then, in a postscript: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +MR. SMITH WAS HERE LAST SUNDAY. I AM TO SAY MRS. BEAMISH WOULD BE VERY +PLEASED IF YOU ALSO WOULD CALL AGAIN TO SEE US. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +He ran the flag up to the top of his forty-foot staff and wrote:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +WHAT I WANT TO KNOW, MISS POLLY, IS, WOULD YOU BE GLAD TO SEE ME? +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +But Polly was not to be drawn. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +WE SHOULD ALL BE VERY PLEASED. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Some days previously Mahony had addressed a question to, Henry Ocock. +With this third letter from Polly, he held the lawyer's answer in his +hand. It was unsatisfactory. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +YOURSELF ATS. BOLLIVER. WE THINK THAT ACTION WILL BE SET DOWN FOR TRIAL +IN ABOUT SIX WEEKS' TIME. IN THESE CIRCUMSTANCES WE DO NOT THINK ANY +USEFUL PURPOSE WILL BE SERVED BY YOU CALLING TO SEE US UNTIL THIS IS +DONE. WE SHOULD BE GLAD IF YOU WOULD CALL AFTER THE ACTION IS ENTERED. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Six weeks' time? The man might as well have said a year. And meanwhile +Purdy was stealing a march on him, was paying clandestine visits to +Geelong. Was it conceivable that anyone in his five senses could prefer +Tilly to Polly? It was not. In the clutch of a sudden fear Mahony went +to Bath's and ordered a horse for the following morning. +</P> + +<P> +This time he left his store in charge of a young consumptive, whose +plight had touched his heart: the poor fellow was stranded on Ballarat +without a farthing, having proved, like many another of his physique, +quite unfit for work on the diggings. A strict Baptist this Hempel, and +one who believed hell-fire would be his portion if he so much as +guessed at the "plant" of his employer's cash-box. He also pledged his +word to bear and forbear with Long Jim. The latter saw himself +superseded with an extreme bad grace, and was in no hurry to find a new +job. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony's nag was in good condition, and he covered the distance in a +trifle over six hours. +</P> + +<P> +He had evidently hit on the family washing-day. The big boiler in the +yard belched clouds of steam; the female inmates of the Hotel were +gathered in the out-house: he saw them through the door as he rode in +at the gate. All three girls stood before tubs, their sleeves rolled +up, their arms in the lather. At his apparition there was a +characteristic chorus of cheeps and shrills and the door was banged to. +Mrs. Beamish alone came out to greet him. She was moist and blown, and +smelt of soap. +</P> + +<P> +Not in a mood to mince matters, he announced straightway the object of +his visit. He was prepared for some expression of surprise on the part +of the good woman; but the blend of sheep-faced amazement and uncivil +incredulity to which she subjected him made him hot and angry; and he +vouchsafed no further word of explanation. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Beamish presently so far recovered as to be able to finish wiping +the suds from her fat red arms. +</P> + +<P> +Thereafter, she gave way to a very feminine weakness. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, and now I come to think of it, I'm blessed if I didn't suspeck +somethin' of it, right from the first! Why, didn't I say to Beamish, +with me own lips, 'ow you couldn't 'ardly take your eyes off 'er? Well, +well, I'm sure I wish you every 'appiness—though 'ow we're h'ever +goin' to get on without Polly, I reelly don't know. Don't I wish it 'ad +bin one o' my two as 'ad tuck your fancy—that's all! Between you an' +me, I don't believe a blessed thing's goin' to come of all young +Smith's danglin' round. An' Polly's still a bit young—only just turned +sixteen. Not as she's any the worse o' that though; you'll get 'er +h'all the easier into your ways. An' now I mus' look smart, an' get you +a bite o' somethin' after your ride." +</P> + +<P> +In vain did Mahony assure her that he had lunched on the road. He did +not know Mrs. Beamish. He was forced not only to sit down to the meal +she spread, but also, under her argus eye, to eat of it. +</P> + +<P> +When after a considerable delay Polly at length appeared, she had +removed all traces of the tub. The hand was cold that he took in his, +as he asked her if she would walk with him to the cave. +</P> + +<P> +This time, she trembled openly. Like a lamb led to the slaughter, he +thought, looking down at her with tender eyes. Small doubt that vulgar +creature within-doors had betrayed him to Polly, and exaggerated the +ordeal that lay before her. When once she was his wife he would not +consent to her remaining intimate with people of the Beamishes' kidney: +what a joy to get her out of their clutches! Nor should she spoil her +pretty shape by stooping over a wash-tub. +</P> + +<P> +In his annoyance he forgot to moderate his pace. Polly had to trip many +small steps to keep up with him. When they reached the entrance to the +cave, she was flushed and out of breath. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony stood and looked down at her. How young she was ... how young +and innocent! Every feature of her dear little face still waited, as it +were, for the strokes of time's chisel. It should be the care of his +life that none but the happiest lines were graved upon its precious +surface. +</P> + +<P> +"Polly," he said, fresh from his scrutiny. "Polly, I'm not going to +beat about the bush with you. I think you know I came here to-day only +to see you." +</P> + +<P> +Polly's head drooped further forward; now, the rim of her bonnet hid +her face. +</P> + +<P> +"You aren't afraid of me, are you, Polly?" +</P> + +<P> +Oh, no, she was not afraid. +</P> + +<P> +"Nor have you forgotten me?" +</P> + +<P> +Polly choked a little, in her attempt to answer. She could not tell him +that she had carried his letters about with her by day, and slept with +them under her pillow; that she knew every word in them by heart, and +had copied and practised the bold flourish of the Dickens-like +signature; that she had never let his name cross her lips; that she +thought him the kindest, handsomest, cleverest man in the world, and +would willingly have humbled herself to the dust before him: all this +boiled and bubbled in her, as she brought forth her poor little "no." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, I hope not," went on Mahony. "Because, Polly, I've come to ask +you if you will be my wife." +</P> + +<P> +Rocks, trees, hills, suddenly grown tipsy, went see-sawing round Polly, +when she heard these words said. She shut her eyes, and hid her face in +her hands. Such happiness seemed improbable—was not to be grasped. +"Me? ... your wife?" she stammered through her fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Polly. Do you think you could learn to care for me a little, my +dear? No, don't be in a hurry to answer. Take your own time." +</P> + +<P> +But she needed none. With what she felt to be a most unmaidenly +eagerness, yet could not subdue, she blurted out: "I know I could. I +... I do." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank God!" said Mahony. "Thank God for that!" +</P> + +<P> +He let his arms fall to his sides; he found he had been holding them +stiffly out from him. He sat down. "And now take away your hands, +Polly, and let me see your face. Don't be ashamed of showing me what +you feel. This is a sacred moment for us. We are promising to take each +other, you know, for richer for poorer, for better for worse—as the +good old words have it. And I must warn you, my dear, you are not +marrying a rich man. I live in a poor, rough place, and have only a +poor home to offer you. Oh, I have had many scruples about asking you +to leave your friends to come and share it with me, Polly my love!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not afraid. I am strong. I can work." +</P> + +<P> +"And I shall take every care of you. Please God, you will never regret +your choice." +</P> + +<P> +They were within sight of the house where they sat; and Mahony imagined +rude, curious eyes. So he did not kiss her. Instead, he drew her arm +though his, and together they paced up and down the path they had come +by, while he laid his plans before her, and confessed to the dreams he +had dreamt of their wedded life. It was a radiant afternoon in the +distance the sea lay deep blue, with turquoise shallows; a great white +bird of a ship, her canvas spread to the breeze, was making for ... +why, to-day he did not care whether for port or for "home"; the sun +went down in a blaze behind a bank of emerald green. And little Polly +agreed with everything he said—was all one lovely glow of +acquiescence. He thought no happier mortal than himself trod the earth. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0108"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VIII +</H3> + +<P> +Mahony remained at the Hotel till the following afternoon, then walked +to Geelong and took the steam-packet to Melbourne. The object of his +journey was to ask Mr. John Turnham's formal sanction to his marriage. +Polly accompanied him a little way on his walk. And whenever he looked +back he saw her standing fluttering her handkerchief—a small, solitary +figure on the bare, red road. +</P> + +<P> +He parted from her with a sense of leaving his most precious possession +behind, so close had words made the tie. On the other hand, he was not +sorry to be out of range for a while of the Beamish family's banter. +This had set in, the evening before, as soon as he and Polly returned +to the house—pacing the deck of the little steamer, he writhed anew at +the remembrance. Jokes at their expense had been cracked all through +supper: his want of appetite, for instance, was the subject of a dozen +crude insinuations; and this, though everyone present knew that he had +eaten a hearty meal not two hours previously; had been kept up till he +grew stony and savage, and Polly, trying hard not to mind but red to +the rims of her ears, slipped out of the room. Supper over, Mrs. +Bearnish announced in a loud voice that the verandah was at the +disposal of the "turtle-doves." She no doubt expected them to bill and +coo in public, as Purdy and Matilda had done. On edge at the thought, +he drew Polly into the comparative seclusion of the garden. Here they +strolled up and down, their promenade bounded at the lower end by the +dense-leaved arbour under which they had first met. In its screening +shadow he took the kiss he had then been generous enough to forgo. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I loved you, Polly, directly I saw you." +</P> + +<P> +In the distance a clump of hills rose steep and bare from the waste +land by the sea's edge—he could see them at this moment as he leant +over the taffrail: with the sun going down behind them they were the +colour of smoked glass. Last night they had been white with moonlight, +which lay spilled out upon them like milk. Strange old hills! Standing +there unchanged, unshaken, from time immemorial, they made the troth +that had been plighted under their shield seem pitifully frail. And +yet.... The vows which Polly and he had found so new, so wonderful; +were not these, in truth, as ancient as the hills themselves, and as +undying? Countless generations of human lovers had uttered them. The +lovers passed, but the pledges remained: had put on immortality. +</P> + +<P> +In the course of their talk it leaked out that Polly would not feel +comfortable till her choice was ratified by brother John. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure you will like John; he is so clever." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall like everyone belonging to you, my Polly!" +</P> + +<P> +As she lost her shyness Mahony made the discovery that she laughed +easily, and was fond of a jest. Thus, when he admitted to her that he +found it difficult to distinguish one fair, plump, sister Beamish from +the other; that they seemed to him as much alike as two firm, +pink-ribbed mushrooms, the little woman was hugely tickled by his his +masculine want of perception. "Why, Jinny has brown eyes and Tilly +blue!" +</P> + +<P> +What he did not know, and what Polly did not confess to him, was that +much of her merriment arose from sheer lightness of heart.—She, silly +goose that she was! who had once believed Jinny to be the picked object +of his attentions. +</P> + +<P> +But she grew serious again: could he tell her, please, why Mr. Smith +wrote so seldom to Tilly? Poor Tilly was unhappy at his long +silences—fretted over them in bed at night. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony made excuses for Purdy, urging his unsettled mode of life. But +it pleased him to see that Polly took sides with her friend, and +loyally espoused her cause. +</P> + +<P> +No, there had not been a single jarring note in all their intercourse; +each moment had made the dear girl dearer to him. Now, worse luck, +forty odd miles were between them again. +</P> + +<P> +It had been agreed that he should call at her brother's private house, +towards five o'clock in the afternoon. He had thus to kill time for the +better part of the next day. His first visit was to a jeweller's in +Great Collins Street. Here, he pushed aside a tray of showy diamonds—a +successful digger was covering the fat, red hands of his bride with +them—and chose a slender, discreetly chased setting, containing three +small stones. No matter what household duties fell to Polly's share, +this little ring would not be out of place on her finger. +</P> + +<P> +From there he went to the last address Purdy had given him; only to +find that the boy had again disappeared. Before parting from Purdy, the +time before, he had lent him half the purchase-money for a horse and +dray, thus enabling him to carry out an old scheme of plying for hire +at the city wharf. According to the landlord of the "Hotel Vendome," to +whom Mahony was referred for fuller information, Purdy had soon tired +of this job, and selling dray and beast for what he could get had gone +off on a new rush to "Simson's Diggings" or the "White Hills." Small +wonder Miss Tilly was left languishing for news of him. +</P> + +<P> +Pricked by the nervous disquietude of those who have to do with the +law, Mahony next repaired to his solicitor's office. But Henry Ocock +was closeted with a more important client. This, Grindle the clerk, +whom he met on the stairs, informed him, with an evident relish, and +with some hidden, hinted meaning in the corners of his shifty little +eyes. It was lost on Mahony, who was not the man to accept hints from a +stranger. +</P> + +<P> +The hour was on lunch-time; Grindle proposed that they should go +together to a legal chop-house, which offered prime value for your +money, and where, over the meal, he would give Mahony the latest news +of his suit. At a loss how to get through the day, the latter followed +him—he was resolved, too, to practise economy from now on. But when he +sat down to a dirty cloth and fly-spotted cruet he regretted his +compliance. Besides, the news Grindle was able to give him amounted to +nothing; the case had not budged since last he heard of it. Worse still +was the clerk's behaviour. For after lauding the cheapness of the +establishment, Grindle disputed the price of each item on the "meenew," +and, when he came to pay his bill, chuckled over having been able to +diddle the waiter of a penny. +</P> + +<P> +He was plainly one of those who feel the constant need of an audience. +And since there was no office-boy present, for him to dazzle with his +wit, he applied himself to demonstrating to his table-companion what a +sad, sad dog he was. +</P> + +<P> +"Women are the deuce, sir," he asserted, lying back in his chair and +sending two trails of smoke from his nostrils. "The very deuce! You +should hear my governor on the subject! He'd tickle your ears for you. +Look here, I'll give you the tip: this move, you know, to Ballarat, +that he's drivin' at: what'ull you bet me there isn't a woman in the +case? Fact! 'Pon my word there is. And a devilish fine woman, too!" He +shut one eye and laid a finger along his nose. "You won't blow the +gab?—that's why you couldn't have your parleyvoo this morning. When +milady comes to town H. O.'s NON EST as long as she's here. And she +with a hubby of her own, too! What 'ud our old pa say to that, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +Mahony, who could draw in his feelers no further than he had done, +touched the limit of his patience. "My connexion with Mr. Ocock is a +purely business one. I have no intention of trespassing on his private +affairs, or of having them thrust upon me. Carver, my bill!" +</P> + +<P> +Bowing distantly he stalked out of the eating-house and back to the +"Criterion," where he dined. "So much for a maiden attempt at economy!" +</P> + +<P> +Towards five o'clock he took his seat in an omnibus that plied between +the city and the seaside suburb of St. Kilda, three miles off. A cool +breeze went; the hoofs of the horses beat a rataplan on the hard +surface; the great road, broad enough to make three of, was alive with +smart gigs and trotters. +</P> + +<P> +St. Kilda was a group of white houses facing the Bay. Most were o' +weatherboard with brick chimneys; but there were also a few of a more +solid construction. Mahony's goal was one of these: a low, stone villa +surrounded by verandahs, in the midst of tasteful grounds. The drive up +to the door led through a shrubbery, artfully contrived of the native +ti-tree; behind the house stretched kitchen and fruit-gardens. Many +rare plants grew in the beds. There was a hedge of geraniums close on +fifteen feet high. +</P> + +<P> +His knock was answered by a groom, who made a saucy face: Mr. Turnham +and his lady were attending the Governor's ball this evening and did +not receive. Mahony insisted on the delivery of his visiting-card. And +since the servant still blocked the entrance he added: "Inform your +master, my man, that I am the bearer of a message from his sister, Miss +Mary Turnham." +</P> + +<P> +The man shut him out, left him standing on the verandah. After a +lengthy absence, he returned, and with a "Well, come along in then!" +opened the door of a parlour. This was a large room, well furnished in +horsehair and rep. Wax-lights stood on the mantelpiece before a +gilt-framed pierglass; coloured prints hung on the walls. +</P> + +<P> +While Mahony was admiring the genteel comfort to which he had long been +a stranger, John Turnham entered the room. He had a quiet tread, but +took determined strides at the floor. In his hand he held Mahony's +card, and he looked from Mahony to it and back again. +</P> + +<P> +"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr.... er ... Mahony?" he asked, +refreshing his memory with a glance at the pasteboard. He spoke in the +brusque tone of one accustomed to run through many applicants in the +course of an hour. "I understand that you make use of my sister Mary's +name." And, as Mahony did not instantly respond, he snapped out: "My +time is short, sir!" +</P> + +<P> +A tinge of colour mounted to Mahony's cheeks. He answered with equal +stiffness: "That is so. I come from Mr. William Beamish's 'Family +Hotel,' and am commissioned to bring you your sister's warm love and +regards." +</P> + +<P> +John Turnham bowed; and waited. +</P> + +<P> +"I have also to acquaint you with the fact," continued Mahony, +gathering hauteur as he went, "that the day before yesterday I proposed +marriage to your sister, and that she did me the honour of accepting +me." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, indeed!" said John Turnham, with a kind of ironic snort. "And may +I ask on what ground you—" +</P> + +<P> +"On the ground, sir, that I have a sincere affection for Miss Turnham, +and believe it lies in my power to make her happy." +</P> + +<P> +"Of that, kindly allow me to judge. My sister is a mere child—too +young to know her own mind. Be seated." +</P> + +<P> +To a constraining, restraining vision of little Polly, Mahony obeyed, +stifling the near retort that she was not too young to earn her living +among strangers. The two men faced each other on opposite sides of the +table. John Turnham had the same dark eyes and hair, the same short, +straight nose as his brother and sister, but not their exotic pallor. +His skin was bronzed; and his large, scarlet mouth supplied a vivid +dash of colour. He wore bushy side-whiskers. +</P> + +<P> +"And now, Mr. Mahony, I will ask you a blunt question. I receive +letters regularly from my sister, but I cannot recall her ever having +mentioned your name. Who and what are you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who am I?" flared up Mahony. "A gentleman like yourself, sir!—though +a poor one. As for Miss Turnham not mentioning me in her letters, that +is easily explained. I only had the pleasure of making her acquaintance +five or six weeks ago." +</P> + +<P> +"You are candid," said Polly's brother, and smiled without unclosing +his lips. "But your reply to my question tells me nothing. May I ask +what ... er ... under what ... er ... circumstances you came out to the +colony, in the first instance?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir, you may not!" cried Mahony, and flung up from his seat; he +scented a deadly insult in the question. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, come, Mr. Mahony," said Turnham in a more conciliatory tone. +"Nothing is gained by being techy. And my inquiry is not unreasonable. +You are an entire stranger to me; my sister has known you but for a few +weeks, and is a young and inexperienced girl into the bargain. You tell +me you are a gentleman. Sir! I had as lief you said you were a +blacksmith. In this grand country of ours, where progress is the +watchword, effete standards and dogging traditions must go by the +board. Grit is of more use to us than gentility. Each single bricklayer +who unships serves the colony better than a score of gentlemen." +</P> + +<P> +"In that I am absolutely not at one with you, Mr. Turnham," said Mahony +coldly. He had sat down again, feeling rather ashamed of his violence. +"Without a leaven of refinement, the very raw material of which the +existing population is composed—" +</P> + +<P> +But Turnham interrupted him. "Give 'em time, sir, give 'em time. God +bless my soul! Rome wasn't built in a day. But to resume. I have +repeatedly had occasion to remark in what small stead the training that +fits a man for a career in the old country stands him here. And that is +why I am dissatisfied with your reply. Show me your muscles, sir, give +me a clean bill of health, tell me if you have learnt a trade and can +pay your way. See, I will be frank with you. The position I occupy +to-day I owe entirely to my own efforts. I landed in the colony ten +years ago, when this marvellous city of ours was little more than a +village settlement. I had but five pounds in my pocket. To-day I am a +partner in my firm, and intend, if all goes well, to enter parliament. +Hence I think I may, without presumption, judge what makes for success +here, and of the type of man to attain it. Work, hard work, is the key +to all doors. So convinced am I of this, that I have insisted on the +younger members of my family learning betimes to put their shoulders to +the wheel. Now, Mr. Mahony, I have been open with you. Be equally frank +with me. You are an Irishman?" +</P> + +<P> +Candour invariably disarmed Mahony—even lay a little heavy on him, +with the weight of an obligation. He retaliated with a light touch of +self-depreciation. "An Irishman, sir, in a country where the Irish have +fallen, and not without reason, into general disrepute." +</P> + +<P> +Over a biscuit and a glass of sherry he gave a rough outline of the +circumstances that had led to his leaving England, two years +previously, and of his dismayed arrival in what he called "the cesspool +of 1852". +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks to the rose-water romance of the English press, many a young +man of my day was enticed away from a modest competency, to seek his +fortune here, where it was pretended that nuggets could be gathered +like cabbages—I myself threw up a tidy little country practice.... I +might mention that medicine was my profession. It would have given me +intense satisfaction, Mr. Turnham, to see one of those glib journalists +in my shoes, or the shoes of some of my messmates on the OCEAN QUEEN. +There were men aboard that ship, sir, who were reduced to beggary +before they could even set foot on the road to the north. Granted it is +the duty of the press to encourage emigration—" +</P> + +<P> +"Let the press be, Mahony," said Turnham: he had sat back, crossed his +legs, and put his thumbs in his armholes. "Let it be. What we need here +is colonists—small matter how we get 'em." +</P> + +<P> +Having had his say, Mahony scamped the recital of his own sufferings: +the discomforts of the month he had been forced to spend in Melbourne +getting his slender outfit together; the miseries of the tramp to +Ballarat on delicate unused feet, among the riff-raff of nations, under +a wan December sky, against which the trunks of the gum-trees rose +whiter still, and out of which blazed a copper sun with a misty rim. He +scamped, too, his six-months' attempt at digging—he had been no more +fit for the work than a child. Worn to skin and bone, his small +remaining strength sucked out by dysentery, he had in the end bartered +his last pinch of gold-dust for a barrow-load of useful odds and ends; +and this had formed the nucleus of his store. Here, fortune had smiled +on him; his flag hardly set a-flying custom had poured in, business +gone up by leaps and bounds—"Although I have never sold so much as a +pint of spirits, sir!" His profits for the past six months equalled a +clear three hundred, and he had most of this to the good. With a wife +to keep, expenses would naturally be heavier; but he should continue to +lay by every spare penny, with a view to getting back to England. +</P> + +<P> +"You have not the intention, then, of remaining permanently in the +colony?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not the least in the world." +</P> + +<P> +"H'm," said John: he was standing on the hearthrug now, his legs apart. +"That, of course, puts a different complexion on the matter. Still, I +may say I am entirely reassured by what you have told me—entirely so. +Indeed, you must allow me to congratulate you on the good sense you +displayed in striking while the iron was hot. Many a one of your +medical brethren, sir, would have thought it beneath his dignity to +turn shopkeeper. And now, Mr. Mahony, I will wish you good day; we +shall doubtless meet again before very long. Nay, one moment! There are +cases, you will admit, in which a female opinion is not without value. +Besides, I should be pleased for you to see my wife." +</P> + +<P> +He crossed the hall, tapped at a door and cried: "Emma, my love, will +you give us the pleasure of your company?" +</P> + +<P> +In response to this a lady entered, whom Mahony thought one of the most +beautiful women he had ever seen. She carried a yearling infant in her +arms, and with one hand pressed its pale flaxen poll against the rich, +ripe corn of her own hair, as if to dare comparison. Her cheeks were of +a delicate rose pink. +</P> + +<P> +"My love," said Turnham—and one felt that the word was no mere flower +of speech. "My love, here is someone who wishes to marry our Polly." +</P> + +<P> +"To marry our Polly?" echoed the lady, and smiled a faint, amused +smile—it was as though she said: to marry this infant that I bear on +my arm. "But Polly is only a little girl!" +</P> + +<P> +"My very words, dearest. And too young to know her own mind." +</P> + +<P> +"But you will decide for her, John." +</P> + +<P> +John hung over his beautiful wife, wheeled up an easy chair, arranged +her in it, placed a footstool. "Pray, pray, do not overfatigue +yourself, Emma! That child is too heavy for you," he objected, as the +babe made strenuous efforts to kick itself to its feet. "You know I do +not approve of you carrying it yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"Nurse is drinking tea." +</P> + +<P> +"But why do I keep a houseful of domestics if one of the others cannot +occasionally take her place?" +</P> + +<P> +He made an impetuous step towards the bell. Before he could reach it +there came a thumping at the door, and a fluty voice cried: "Lemme in, +puppa, lemme in!" +</P> + +<P> +Turnham threw the door open, and admitted a sturdy two-year-old, whom +he led forward by the hand. "My son," he said, not without pride. +Mahony would have coaxed the child to him; but it ran to its mother, +hid its face in her lap. +</P> + +<P> +Forgetting the bell John struck an attitude. "What a picture!" he +exclaimed. "What a picture! My love, I positively must carry out my +intention of having you painted in oils, with the children round you.— +Mr. Mahony, sir, have you ever seen anything to equal it?" +</P> + +<P> +Though his mental attitude might have been expressed by a note of +exclamation, set ironically, Mahony felt constrained to second +Turnham's enthusiasm. And it was indeed a lovely picture: the gracious, +golden-haired woman, whose figure had the amplitude, her gestures the +almost sensual languor of the young nursing mother; the two children +fawning at her knee, both ash-blond, with vivid scarlet lips.—"It +helps one," thought Mahony, "to understand the mother-worship of +primitive peoples." +</P> + +<P> +The nursemaid summoned and the children borne off, Mrs. Emma exchanged +a few amiable words with the visitor, then obeyed with an equally good +grace her husband's command to rest for an hour, before dressing for +the ball. +</P> + +<P> +Having escorted her to another room, Turnham came back rubbing his +hands. "I am pleased to be able to tell you, Mr. Mahony, that your suit +has my wife's approval. You are highly favoured! Emma is not free with +her liking." Then, in a sudden burst of effusion: "I could have wished +you the pleasure, sir, of seeing my wife in evening attire. She will +make a furore again; no other woman can hold a candle to her in a +ballroom. To-night is the first time since the birth of our second +child that she will grace a public entertainment with her presence; and +unfortunately her appearance will be a brief one, for the infant is not +yet wholly weaned." He shut the door and lowered his voice. "You have +had some experience of doctoring, you say; I should like a word with +you in your medical capacity. The thing is this. My wife has persisted, +contrary to my wishes, in suckling both children herself." +</P> + +<P> +"Quite right, too," said Mahony. "In a climate like this their natural +food is invaluable to babes." +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly, quite so," said Turnham, with a hint of impatience. "And in +the case of the first child, I made due allowance: a young mother... +the novelty of the thing... you understand. But with regard to the +second, I must confess I—How long, sir, in your opinion, can a mother +continue to nurse her babe without injury to herself? It is surely +harmful if unduly protracted? I have observed dark lines about my +wife's eyes, and she is losing her fine complexion.—Then you confirm +my fears. I shall assert my authority without delay, and insist on +separation from the child.—Ah! women are strange beings, Mr. Mahony, +strange beings, as you are on the high road to discovering for +yourself." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony returned to town on foot, the omnibus having ceased to run. As +he walked—at a quick pace, and keeping a sharp look-out; for the road +was notoriously unsafe after dark—he revolved his impressions of the +interview. He was glad it was over, and, for Polly's sake, that it had +passed off satisfactorily. It had made a poor enough start: at one +moment he had been within an ace of picking up his hat and stalking +out. But he found it difficult at the present happy crisis to bear a +grudge—even if it had not been a proved idiosyncrasy of his, always to +let a successful finish erase a bad beginning. None the less, he would +not have belonged to the nation he did, had he not indulged in a +caustic chuckle and a pair of good-humoured pishes and pshaws, at +Turnham's expense. "Like a showman in front of his booth!" +</P> + +<P> +Then he thought again of the domestic scene he had been privileged to +witness, and grew grave. The beautiful young woman and her children +might have served as model for a Holy Family—some old painter's dream +of a sweet benign Madonna; the trampling babe as the infant Christ; the +upturned face of the little John adoring. No place this for the +scoffer. Apart from the mere pleasure of the eye, there was ample +justification for Turnham's transports. Were they not in the presence +of one of life's sublimest mysteries—that of motherhood? Not alone the +lovely Emma: no; every woman who endured the rigours of childbirth, to +bring forth an immortal soul, was a holy figure. +</P> + +<P> +And now for him, too, as he had been reminded, this wonder was to be +worked. Little Polly as the mother of his children—what visions the +words conjured up! But he was glad Polly was just Polly, and not the +peerless creature he had seen. John Turnham's fears would never be +his—this jealous care of a transient bodily beauty. Polly was neither +too rare nor too fair for her woman's lot; and, please God, the day +would come when he would see her with a whole cluster of little ones +round her—little dark-eyed replicas of herself. She, bless her, should +dandle and cosset them to her heart's content. Her joy in them would +also be his. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0109"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter IX +</H3> + +<P> +He sawed, planed, hammered; curly shavings dropped and there was a +pleasant smell of sawdust. Much had to be done to make the place fit to +receive Polly. A second outhouse was necessary, to hold the surplus +goods and do duty as a sleeping-room for Long Jim and Hempel: the +lean-to the pair had occupied till now was being converted into a +kitchen. At great cost and trouble, Mahony had some trees felled and +brought in from Warrenheip. With them he put up a rude fence round his +backyard, interlacing the lopped boughs from post to post, so that they +formed a thick and leafy screen. He also filled in the disused shaft +that had served as a rubbish-hole, and chose another, farther off, +which would be less malodorous in the summer heat. Finally, a +substantial load of firewood carted in, and two snakes that had made +the journey in hollow logs dispatched, Long Jim was set down to chop +and split the wood into a neat pile. Polly would need but to walk to +and from the woodstack for her firing. +</P> + +<P> +Indoors he made equal revolution. That her ears should not be polluted +by the language of the customers, he ran up a partition between +living-room and store, thus cutting off the slab-walled portion of the +house, with its roof of stringy-bark, from the log-and-canvas front. He +also stopped with putty the worst gaps between the slabs. At Ocock's +Auction Rooms he bought a horsehair sofa to match his armchair, a strip +of carpet, a bed, a washhand-stand and a looking-glass, and tacked up a +calico curtain before the window. His books, fetched out of the wooden +case, were arranged on a brand-new set of shelves; and, when all was +done and he stood back to admire his work, it was borne in on him +afresh with how few creature-comforts he had hitherto existed. Plain to +see now, why he had preferred to sit out-of-doors rather than within! +Now, no one on the Flat had a trimmer little place than he. +</P> + +<P> +In his labours he had the help of a friendly digger—a carpenter by +trade—who one evening, pipe in mouth, had stood to watch his +amateurish efforts with the jack-plane. Otherwise, the Lord alone knew +how the house would ever have been made shipshape. Long Jim was equal +to none but the simplest jobs; and Hempel, the assistant, had his hands +full with the store. Well, it was a blessing at this juncture that +business could be left to him. Hempel was as straight as a die; was a +real treasure—or would have been, were it not for his eternal little +bark of a cough. This was proof against all remedies, and the heck-heck +of it at night was quite enough to spoil a light sleeper's rest. In +building the new shed, Mahony had been careful to choose a corner far +from the house. +</P> + +<P> +Marriages were still uncommon enough on Ballarat to make him an object +of considerable curiosity. People took to dropping in of an +evening—old Ocock; the postmaster; a fellow storekeeper, ex-steward to +the Duke of Newcastle—to comment on his alterations and improvements. +And over a pipe and a glass of sherry, he had to put up with a good +deal of banter about his approaching "change of state." +</P> + +<P> +Still, it was kindly meant. "We'll 'ave to git up a bit o' company o' +nights for yer lady when she comes," said old Ocock, and spat under the +table. +</P> + +<P> +Purdy wrote from Tarrangower, where he had drifted: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +HOORAY, OLD DICK, GOLLY FOR YOU! OLD MAN DIDN'T I KICK UP A BOBBERY +WHEN I HEARD THE NEWS. NEVER WAS SO WELL PLEASED IN MY LIFE. THAT'S ALL +YOU NEEDED, DICK—NOW YOU'LL TURN INTO A FIRST-RATE COLONIAL. HOW ABOUT +THAT FIVER NOW I'D LIKE TO KNOW. YOU CAN TELL POLLY FROM ME I SHALL PAY +IT BACK WITH INTEREST ON THE FATAL DAY. OF COURSE I'LL COME AND SEE YOU +SPLICED, TOGS OR NO TOGS—TO TELL THE TRUTH MY KICKSIES ARE ON THEIR +VERY LAST LEGS—AND THERE'S NOTHING DOING HERE—ALL THE LOOSE STUFF'S +BEEN TURNED OVER. THERE'S OCEANS OF QUARTZ, OF COURSE, AND THEY'RE +TRYING TO POUND IT UP IN DOLLIES, BUT YOU COULD PUT ME TO BED WITH A +PICK-AXE AND A SHOVEL BEFORE I'D GO IN FOR SUCH TOMFOOLERY AS THAT.— +DAMN IT ALL, DICK, TO THINK OF YOU BEING COTCHED AT LAST. I CAN'T GET +OVER IT, AND IT'S A BIT OF A RISK, TOO, BY DAD IT IS, FOR A GIRL OF +THAT AGE IS A DARK HORSE IF EVER THERE WAS ONE. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Mahony's answer to this was a couple of pound-notes: SO THAT MY BEST +MAN SHALL NOT DISGRACE ME! His heart went out to the writer. Dear old +Dickybird! pleased as Punch at the turn of events, yet quaking for fear +of imaginary risks. With all Purdy's respect for his friend's opinions, +he had yet an odd distrust of that friend's ability to look after +himself. And now he was presuming to doubt Polly, too. Like his +imperence! What the dickens did HE know of Polly? Keenly relishing the +sense of his own intimate knowledge, Mahony touched the breast-pocket +in which Polly's letters lay—he often carried them out with him to a +little hill, on which a single old blue-gum had been left standing; its +scraggy top-knot of leaves drooped and swayed in the wind, like the few +long straggling hairs on an old man's head. +</P> + +<P> +The letters formed a goodly bundle; for Polly and he wrote regularly to +each other, she once a week, he twice. His bore the Queen's head; hers, +as befitted a needy little governess, were oftenest delivered by hand. +Mahony untied the packet, drew a chance letter from it and mused as he +read. Polly had still not ceded much of her early reserve—and it had +taken him weeks to persuade her even to call him by his first name. She +was, he thanked goodness, not of the kind who throw maidenly modesty to +the winds, directly the binding word is spoken. He loved her all the +better for her wariness of emotion; it tallied with a like streak in +his own nature. And this, though at the moment he was going through a +very debauch of frankness. To the little black-eyed girl who pored over +his letters at "Beamish's Family Hotel," he unbosomed himself as never +in his life before. He enlarged on his tastes and preferences, his +likes and dislikes; he gave vent to his real feelings for the country +of his exile, and his longings for "home"; told how he had come to the +colony, in the first instance, with the fantastic notion of redeeming +the fortunes of his family; described his collections of butterflies +and plants to her, using their Latin names. And Polly drank in his +words, and humbly agreed with all he wrote, or at least did not +disagree; and, from this, as have done lovers from the beginning of +time, he inferred a perfect harmony of mind. On one point only did he +press her for a reply. Was she fond of books? If so, what evenings they +would spend together, he reading aloud from some entertaining volume, +she at her fancy work. And poetry? For himself he could truly say he +did not care for poetry ... except on a Saturday night or a quiet +Sunday morning; and that was, because he liked it too well to approach +it with any but a tranquil mind. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +I THINK IF I KNOW YOU ARIGHT, AS I BELIEVE I DO, MY POLLY, YOU TOO HAVE +POETRY IN YOUR SOUL. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +He smiled at her reply; then kissed it. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +I CANNOT WRITE POETRY MYSELF, said Polly, BUT I AM VERY FOND OF IT AND +SHALL INDEED LIKE VERY MUCH DEAR RICHARD TO LISTEN WHEN YOU READ. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +But the winter ran away, one cold, wet week succeeding another, and +still they were apart. Mahony urged and pleaded, but could not get +Polly to name the wedding-day. He began to think pressure was being +brought to bear on the girl from another side. Naturally the Beamishes +were reluctant to let her go: who would be so useful to them as +Polly?—who undertake, without scorn, the education of the whilom +shepherd's daughters? Still, they knew they had to lose her, and he +could not see that it made things any easier for them to put off the +evil day. No, there was something else at the bottom of it; though he +did not know what. Then one evening, pondering a letter of Polly's, he +slapped his forehead and exclaimed aloud at his own stupidity. That +night, into his reply he slipped four five-pound notes. JUST TO BUY +YOURSELF ANY LITTLE THING YOU FANCY, DEAREST. IF I CHOSE A GIFT, I +MIGHT SEND WHAT WOULD NOT BE ACCEPTABLE TO YOU. Yes, sure enough, that +was it—little Polly had been in straits for money: the next news he +heard was that she had bought and was stitching her wedding-gown. Taxed +with her need, Polly guiltily admitted that her salary for the past +three months was owing to her. But there had been great expenses in +connection with the hotel; and Mr. B. had had an accident to his leg. +From what she wrote, though, Mahony saw that it was not the first time +such remissness had occurred; and he felt grimly indignant with her +employers. Keeping open house, and hospitable to the point of +vulgarity, they were, it was evident, pinchfists when it came to +parting with their money. Still, in the case of a little woman who had +served them so faithfully! In thought he set a thick black mark against +their name, for their cavalier treatment of his Polly. And extended it +to John Turnham as well. John had made no move to put hand to pocket; +and Polly's niceness of feeling had stood in the way of her applying to +him for aid. It made Mahony yearn to snatch the girl to him, then and +there; to set her free of all contact with such coarse-grained, miserly +brutes. +</P> + +<P> +Old Ocock negotiated the hire of a neat spring cart for him, and a +stout little cob; and at last the day had actually come, when he could +set out to bring Polly home. By his side was Ned Turnham. Ned, still a +lean-jowled wages-man at Rotten Gully, made no secret of his glee at +getting carried down thus comfortably to Polly's nuptials. They drove +the eternal forty odd miles to Geelong, each stick and stone of which +was fast becoming known to Mahony; a journey that remained equally +tiresome whether the red earth rose as a thick red dust, or whether as +now it had turned to a mud like birdlime in which the wheels sank +almost to the axles. Arrived at Geelong they put up at an hotel, where +Purdy awaited them. Purdy had tramped down from Tarrangower, blanket on +back, and stood in need of a new rig-out from head to foot. Otherwise +his persistent ill-luck had left no mark on him. +</P> + +<P> +The ceremony took place early the following morning, at the house of +the Wesleyan minister, the Anglican parson having been called away. The +Beamishes and Polly drove to town, a tight fit in a double buggy. On +the back seat, Jinny clung to and half supported a huge clothes-basket, +which contained the wedding-breakfast. Polly sat on her trunk by the +splashboard; and Tilly, crowded out, rode in on one of the cart-horses, +a coloured bed-quilt pinned round her waist to protect her skirts. +</P> + +<P> +To Polly's disappointment neither her brother John nor his wife was +present; a letter came at the eleventh hour to say that Mrs. Emma was +unwell, and her husband did not care to leave her. Enclosed, however, +were ten pounds for the purchase of a wedding-gift; and the pleasure +Polly felt at being able to announce John's generosity helped to make +up to her for his absence. The only other guest present was an elder +sister, Miss Sarah Turnham, who, being out of a situation at the +moment, had sailed down from Melbourne. This young lady, a sprightly +brunette of some three or four and twenty, without the fine, regular +features of Ned and Polly, but with tenfold their vivacity and +experience, caused quite a sensation; and Tilly's audible raptures at +beholding her Purdy again were of short duration; for Purdy had never +met the equal of Miss Sarah, and could not take his eyes off her. He +and she were the life of the party. The Beamishes were overawed by the +visitor's town-bred airs and the genteel elegance of her dress; Polly +was a mere crumpled rose-leaf of pink confusion; Mahony too preoccupied +with ring and licence to take any but his formal share in the +proceedings. +</P> + +<P> +"Come and see you?" echoed Miss Sarah playfully: the knot was tied; the +company had demolished the good things laid out by Mrs. Beamish in the +private parlour of an hotel, and emptied a couple of bottles of +champagne; and Polly had changed her muslin frock for a black silk +travelling-gown. "Come and SEE you? Why, of course I will, little +silly!"—and, with her pretty white hands, she patted the already +perfect bow of Polly's bonnet-strings. Miss Sarah had no great opinion +of the match her sister was making; but she had been agreeably +surprised by Mahony's person and manners, and had said so, thus filling +Polly's soul with bliss. "Provided, of course, little goosey, you have +a SPARE ROOM to offer me.—For, I confess," she went on, turning to the +rest of the party, "I confess I feel inordinately curious to see, with +my own eyes, what these famous diggings are like. From all one hears, +they must be MARVELLOUSLY entertaining.—Now, I presume that you, Mr. +Smith, never touch at such RUDE, OUT-OF-THE-WORLD places in the course +of YOUR travels?" +</P> + +<P> +Purdy, who had discreetly concealed the fact that he was but a +poverty-stricken digger himself, quibbled a light evasion, then changed +the subject, and offered his escort to the steam-packet by which Miss +Sarah was returning to Melbourne. +</P> + +<P> +"And you, too, dear Tilly," urged little Polly, proceeding with her +farewells. "For, mind, you promised. And I won't forget to ... you know +what!" +</P> + +<P> +Tilly, sobbing noisily, wept on Polly's neck that she wished she was +dead or at the bottom of the sea; and Polly, torn between pride and +pain at Purdy's delinquency, could only kiss her several times without +speaking. +</P> + +<P> +The farewells buzzed and flew. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye to you, little lass ... beg pardon, Mrs. Dr. Mahony!"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Mind you write, Poll! I shall die to 'ear."—— +</P> + +<P> +"Ta-ta, little silly goosey, and AU REVOIR!"—"Mind he don't pitch you +out of the cart, Polly!"—"Good-bye, Polly, my duck, and remember I'll +come to you in a winkin', h'if and when ..." which speech on the part +of Mrs. Beamish distressed Polly to the verge of tears. +</P> + +<P> +But finally she was torn from their arms and hoisted into the cart; and +Mahony, the reins in his hand, began to unstiffen from the wooden +figure-head he had felt himself during the ceremony, and under the +whirring tongues and whispered confidences of the women. +</P> + +<P> +"And now, Polly, for home!" he said exultantly, when the largest +pocket-handkerchief had shrunk to the size of a nit, and Polly had +ceased to twist her neck for one last, last glimpse of her friends. +</P> + +<P> +And then the bush, and the loneliness of the bush, closed round them. +</P> + +<P> +It was the time of flowers—of fierce young growth after the fruitful +winter rains. The short-lived grass, green now as that of an English +meadow, was picked out into patterns by the scarlet of the Running +Postman; purple sarsaparilla festooned the stems of the scrub; there +were vast natural paddocks, here of yellow everlastings, there of +heaths in full bloom. Compared with the dark, spindly foliage of the +she-oaks, the ti-trees' waxy flowers stood out like orange-blossoms +against firs. On damp or marshy ground wattles were aflame: great +quivering masses of softest gold. Wherever these trees stood, the +fragrance of their yellow puff-ball blossoms saturated the air; one +knew, before one saw them, that they were coming, and long after they +had been left behind one carried their honeyed sweetness with one; +against them, no other scent could have made itself felt. And to Mahony +these waves of perfume, into which they were continually running, came, +in the course of the hours, to stand for a symbol of the golden future +for which he and Polly were making; and whenever in after years he met +with wattles in full bloom, he was carried back to the blue spring day +of this wedding-journey, and jogged on once more, in the light cart, +with his girl-wife at his side. +</P> + +<P> +It was necessarily a silent drive. More rain had fallen during the +night; even the best bits of the road were worked into deep, glutinous +ruts, and the low-lying parts were under water. Mahony, but a fairish +hand with the reins, was repeatedly obliged to leave the track and take +to the bush, where he steered a way as best he could through trees, +stumps, boulders and crab-holes. Sometimes he rose to his feet to +encourage the horse; or he alighted and pulled it by the bridle; or put +a shoulder to the wheel. But to-day no difficulties had power to daunt +him; and the farther he advanced the lighter-hearted he grew: he went +back to Ballarat feeling, for the first time, that he was actually +going home. +</P> + +<P> +And Polly? Sitting motionless at her husband's side, her hands folded +on her black silk lap, Polly obediently turned her head this way and +that, when Richard pointed out a landmark to her, or called her +attention to the flowers. At first, things were new and arresting, but +the novelty soon wore off; and as they went on and on, and still on, it +began to seem to Polly, who had never been farther afield than a couple +of miles north of the "Pivot City," as if they were driving away from +all the rest of mankind, right into the very heart of nowhere. The road +grew rougher, too—became scored with ridges and furrows which threw +them violently from side to side. Unused to bush driving, Polly was +sure at each fresh jolt that this time the cart MUST tip over; and yet +she preferred the track and its dangers to Richard's adventurous +attempts to carve a passage through the scrub. A little later a cold +south wind sprang up, which struck through her thin silk mantle; she +was very tired, having been on her feet since five o'clock that +morning; and all the happy fuss and excitement of the wedding was +behind her. Her heart sank. She loved Richard dearly; if he had asked +her, she would have gone to the ends of the earth with him; but at this +moment she felt both small and lonely, and she would have liked nothing +better than Mrs. Beamish's big motherly bosom, on which to lay her +head. And when, in passing a swamp, a well-known noise broke on her +ear—that of hundreds of bell-frogs, which were like hundreds of +hissing tea-kettles just about to boil—then such a rush of +homesickness took her that she would have given all she had, to know +she was going back, once more, to the familiar little whitewashed room +she had shared with Tilly and Jinny. +</P> + +<P> +The seat of the cart was slanting and slippery. Polly was continually +sliding forward, now by inches, now with a great jerk. At last Mahony +noticed it. "You are not sitting very comfortably, Polly, I fear?" he +said. +</P> + +<P> +Polly righted herself yet again, and reddened. "It's my ... my feet +aren't long enough," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, my poor little love!" cried Mahony, full of quick compunction. +"Why didn't you say so?" And drawing rein and getting down, he stuffed +some of Mrs. Beamish's bundles—fragments of the feast, which the good +woman had sent with them—under his wife's feet; stuffed too many, so +that Polly drove the rest of the way with her knees raised to a hump in +front of her. All the afternoon they had been making for dim blue +ranges. After leaving the flats near Geelong, the track went up and +down. Grey-green forest surrounded them, out of which nobbly hills rose +like islands from a sea of trees. As they approached the end of their +journey, they overtook a large number of heavy vehicles labouring along +through the mire. A coach with six horses dashed past them at full +gallop, and left them rapidly behind. Did they have to skirt +bull-punchers who were lashing or otherwise ill-treating their teams, +Mahony urged on the horse and bade Polly shut her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Night had fallen and a drizzling rain get in, by the time they +travelled the last couple of miles to Ballarat. This was the worst of +all; and Polly held her breath while the horse picked its way among +yawning pits, into which one false step would have plunged them. Her +fears were not lessened by hearing that in several places the very road +was undermined; and she was thankful when Richard—himself rendered +uneasy by the precious cargo he bore—got out and walked at the horse's +head. They drew up before a public-house. Cramped from sitting and numb +with cold, Polly climbed stiffly down as bidden; and Mahony having +unloaded the baggage, mounted to his seat again to drive the cart into +the yard. This was a false move, as he was quick to see: he should not +have left Polly standing alone. For the news of the arrival of "Doc." +Mahony and his bride flew from mouth to mouth, and all the loafers who +were in the bar turned out to stare and to quiz. Beside her tumulus of +trunk, bag, bundle little Polly stood desolate, with drooping +shoulders; and cursing his want of foresight, Mahony all but drove into +the gatepost, which occasioned a loud guffaw. Nor had Long Jim turned +up as ordered, to shoulder the heavy luggage. These blunders made +Mahony very hot and curt. Having himself stowed the things inside the +bar and borrowed a lantern, he drew his wife's arm through his, and +hurried her away. +</P> + +<P> +It was pitch-dark, and the ground was wet and squelchy. Their feet sank +in the mud. Polly clung to Richard's arm, trembling at the rude voices, +the laughter, the brawling, that issued from the grog-shops; at the +continual apparition of rough, bearded men. One of these, who held a +candle stuck in a bottle, was accosted by Richard and soundly rated. +When they turned out of the street with its few dismal oil-lamps, their +way led them among dirty tents and black pits, and they had to depend +for light on the lantern they carried. They crossed a rickety little +bridge over a flooded river; then climbed a slope, on which in her +bunchy silk skirts Polly slipped and floundered, to stop before +something that was half a tent and half a log-hut.—What! this the end +of the long, long journey! This the house she had to live in? +</P> + +<P> +Yes, Richard was speaking. "Welcome home, little wife! Not much of a +place, you see, but the best I can give you." +</P> + +<P> +"It's ... it's very nice, Richard," said Polly staunchly; but her lips +trembled. +</P> + +<P> +Warding off the attack of a big, fierce, dirty dog, which sprang at +her, dragging its paws down her dress, Polly waited while her husband +undid the door, then followed him through a chaos, which smelt as she +had never believed any roofed-in place could smell, to a little room at +the back. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony lighted the lamp that stood ready on the table, and threw a +satisfied glance round. His menfolk had done well: things were in +apple-pie order. The fire crackled, the kettle was on the boil, the +cloth spread. He turned to Polly to kiss her welcome, to relieve her of +bonnet and mantle. But before he could do this there came a noise of +rowdy voices, of shouting and parleying. Picking up the lantern, he ran +out to see what the matter was. +</P> + +<P> +Left alone Polly remained standing by the table, on which an array of +tins was set—preserved salmon, sardines, condensed milk—their tops +forced back to show their contents. Her heart was heavy as lead, and +she felt a dull sense of injury as well. This hut her home!—to which +she had so freely invited sister and friend! She would be ashamed for +them ever to set eyes on it. Not in her worst dreams had she imagined +it as mean and poor as this. But perhaps .... With the lamp in her +hand, she tip-toed guiltily to a door in the wall: it opened into a +tiny bedroom with a sloping roof. No, this was all, all there was of +it: just these two miserable little poky rooms! She raised her head and +looked round, and the tears welled up in spite of herself. The roof was +so low that you could almost touch it; the window was no larger than a +pocket-handkerchief; there were chinks between the slabs of the walls. +And from one of these she now saw a spider crawl out, a huge black +tarantula, with horrible hairy legs. Polly was afraid of spiders; and +at this the tears began to overflow and to trickle down her cheeks. +Holding her skirts to her—the new dress she had made with such pride, +now damp, and crushed, and soiled—she sat down and put her feet, in +their soaked, mud-caked, little prunella boots, on the rung of her +chair, for fear of other monsters that might be crawling the floor. +</P> + +<P> +And then, while she sat thus hunched together, the voices outside were +suddenly drowned in a deafening noise—in a hideous, stupefying din, +that nearly split one's eardrums: it sounded as though all the tins and +cans in the town were being beaten and banged before the door. Polly +forgot the tarantula, forgot her bitter disappointment with her new +home. Her black eyes wide with fear, her heart thudding in her chest, +she sprang to her feet and stood ready, if need be, to defend herself. +Where, oh where was Richard? +</P> + +<P> +It was the last straw. When, some five minutes later, Mahony came +bustling in: he had soothed the "kettledrummers" and sent them off with +a handsome gratuity, and he carried the trunk on his own shoulder, Long +Jim following behind with bags and bundles: when he entered, he found +little Polly sitting with her head huddled on her arms, crying as +though her heart would break. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0201"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Part II +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter I +</H3> + +<P> +Over the fathomless grey seas that tossed between, dissevering the +ancient and gigantic continent from the tiny motherland, unsettling +rumours ran. After close on forty years' fat peace, England had armed +for hostilities again, her fleet set sail for a foreign sea. Such was +the news the sturdy clipper-ships brought out, in tantalising +fragments; and those who, like Richard Mahony, were mere +birds-of-passage in the colony, and had friends and relatives going to +the front, caught hungrily at every detail. But to the majority of the +colonists what England had done, or left undone, in preparation for +war, was of small account. To them the vital question was: will the +wily Russian Bear take its revenge by sending men-of-war to annihilate +us and plunder the gold in our banks—us, months removed from English +aid? And the opinion was openly expressed that in casting off her +allegiance to Great Britain, and becoming a neutral state, lay young +Australia's best hope of safety. +</P> + +<P> +But, even while they made it, the proposers of this scheme were +knee-deep in petty, local affairs again. All Europe was depressed under +the cloud of war; but they went on belabouring hackneyed themes—the +unlocking of the lands, iniquitous licence-fees, official corruption. +Mahony could not stand it. His heart was in England, went up and down +with England's hopes and fears. He smarted under the tales told of the +inefficiency of the British troops and the paucity of their numbers; +under the painful disclosures made by journalists, injudiciously +allowed to travel to the seat of war; he questioned, like many another +of his class in the old country, the wisdom of the Duke of Newcastle's +orders to lay siege to the port of Sebastopol. And of an evening, when +the store was closed, he sat over stale English newspapers and a map of +the Crimea, and meticulously followed the movements of the Allies. +</P> + +<P> +But in this retirement he was rudely disturbed, by feeling himself +touched on a vulnerable spot—that of his pocket. Before the end of the +year trade had come to a standstill, and the very town he lived in was +under martial law. +</P> + +<P> +On both Ballarat and the Bendigo the agitation for the repeal of the +licence-tax had grown more and more vehement; and spring's arrival +found the digging-community worked up to a white heat. The new +Governor's tour of inspection, on which great hopes had been built, +served only to aggravate the trouble. Misled by the golden treasures +with which the diggers, anxious as children to please, dazzled his +eyes, the Governor decided that the tax was not an outrageous one; and +ordered licence-raids to be undertaken twice as often as before. This +defeat of the diggers' hopes, together with the murder of a comrade and +the acquittal of the murderer by a corrupt magistrate, goaded even the +least sensitive spirits to rebellion: the guilty man's house was fired, +the police were stoned, and then, for a month or more, deputations and +petitions ran to and fro between Ballarat and Melbourne. In vain: the +demands of the voteless diggers went unheard. The consequence was that +one day at the beginning of summer all the troops that could be spared +from the capital, along with several pieces of artillery, were raising +the dust on the road to Ballarat. +</P> + +<P> +On the last afternoon in November work was suspended throughout the +diggings, and the more cautious among the shopkeepers began to think of +closing their doors. In front of the "Diggers' Emporium," where the +earth was baked as hard as a burnt crust, a little knot of people stood +shading their eyes from the sun. Opposite, on Bakery Hill, a monster +meeting had been held and the "Southern Cross" hoisted—a blue bunting +that bore the silver stars of the constellation after which it was +named. Having sworn allegiance to it with outstretched hands, the +rebels were lining up to march off to drill. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony watched the thin procession through narrowed lids. In theory he +condemned equally the blind obstinacy of the authorities, who went on +tightening the screw, and the foolhardiness of the men. But—well, he +could not get his eye to shirk one of the screaming banners and +placards: "Down with Despotism!" "Who so base as be a Slave!" by means +of which the diggers sought to inflame popular indignation. "If only +honest rebels could get on without melodramatic exaggeration! As it is, +those good fellows yonder are rendering a just cause ridiculous." +</P> + +<P> +Polly tightened her clasp of his arm. She had known no peace since the +evening before, when a rough-looking man had come into the store and, +with revolver at full cock, had commanded Hempel to hand over all the +arms and ammunition it contained. Hempel, much to Richard's wrath, had +meekly complied; but it might have been Richard himself; he would for +certain have refused; and then.... Polly had hardly slept for thinking +of it. She now listened in deferential silence to the men's talk; but +when old Ocock—he never had a good word to say for the riotous +diggers—took his pipe out of his mouth to remark: "A pack o' Tipperary +boys spoilin' for a fight—that's what I say. An' yet, blow me if I +wouldn't 'a bin glad if one o' my two 'ad 'ad spunk enough to join +'em,"—at this Polly could not refrain from saying pitifully: "Oh, Mr. +Ocock, do you really MEAN that?" For both Purdy and brother Ned were in +the rebel band, and Polly's heart was heavy because of them. +</P> + +<P> +"Can't you see my brother anywhere?" she asked Hempel, who held an old +spyglass to his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am, sorry to say I can't," replied Hempel. He would willingly +have conjured up a dozen brothers to comfort Polly; but he could not +swerve from the truth, even for her. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me the glass," said Mahony, and swept the line.—"No, no sign of +either of them. Perhaps they thought better of it after all.—Listen! +now they're singing—can you hear them? The MARSEILLAISE as I'm alive. +—Poor fools! Many of them are armed with nothing more deadly than +picks and shovels." +</P> + +<P> +"And pikes," corrected Hempel. "Several carry pikes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Ay, that's so, they've bin 'ammerin' out bits of old iron all the +mornin'," agreed Ocock. "It's said they 'aven't a quarter of a firearm +apiece. And the drillin'! Lord love yer! 'Alf of 'em don't know their +right 'and from their left. The troops 'ull make mincemeat of 'em, if +they come to close quarters." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I hope not!" said Polly. "Oh, I do hope they won't get hurt." +</P> + +<P> +Patting her hand, Mahony advised his wife to go indoors and resume her +household tasks. And since his lightest wish was a command, little +Polly docilely withdrew her arm and returned to her dishwashing. But +though she rubbed and scoured with her usual precision, her heart was +not in her work. Both on this day and the next she seemed to exist +solely in her two ears. The one strained to catch any scrap of news +about "poor Ned"; the other listened, with an even sharper anxiety, to +what went on in the store. Several further attempts were made to get +arms and provisions from Richard; and each time an angry scene ensued. +Close up beside the thin partition, her hands locked under her +cooking-apron, Polly sat and trembled for her husband. He had already +got himself talked about by refusing to back a Reform League; and now +she heard him openly declare to some one that he disapproved of the +terms of this League, from A to Z. Oh dear! If only he wouldn't. But +she was careful not to add to his worries by speaking of her fears. As +it was, he came to tea with a moody face. +</P> + +<P> +The behaviour of the foraging parties growing more and more +threatening, Mahony thought it prudent to follow the general example +and put up his shutters. Wildly conflicting rumours were in the air. +One report said a contingent of Creswick dare-devils had arrived to +join forces with the insurgents; another that the Creswickers, +disgusted at finding neither firearms nor quarters provided for them, +had straightway turned and marched the twelve miles home again. For a +time it was asserted that Lalor, the Irish leader, had been bought over +by the government; then, just as definitely, that his influence alone +held the rebel faction together. Towards evening Long Jim was +dispatched to find out how matters really stood. He brought back word +that the diggers had entrenched themselves on a piece of rising ground +near the Eureka lead, behind a flimsy barricade of logs, slabs, ropes +and overturned carts. The Camp, for its part, was screened by a +breastwork of firewood, trusses of hay and bags of corn; while the +mounted police stood or lay fully armed by their horses, which were +saddled ready for action at a moment's notice. +</P> + +<P> +Neither Ned nor Purdy put in an appearance, and the night passed +without news of them. Just before dawn, however, Mahony was wakened by +a tapping at the window. Thrusting out his head he recognised young +Tommy Ocock, who had been sent by his father to tell "doctor" that the +soldiers were astir. Lights could be seen moving about the Camp, a +horse had neighed—father thought spies might have given them the hint +that at least half the diggers from the Stockade had come down to Main +Street last night, and got drunk, and never gone back. With a concerned +glance at Polly Mahony struggled into his clothes. He must make another +effort to reach the boys—especially Ned, for Polly's sake. When Ned +had first announced his intention of siding with the insurgents, he had +merely shrugged his shoulders, believing that the young vapourer would +soon have had enough of it. Now he felt responsible to his wife for +Ned's safety: Ned, whose chief reason for turning rebel, he suspected, +was that a facetious trooper had once dubbed him "Eytalian +organ-grinder," and asked him where he kept his monkey. +</P> + +<P> +But Mahony's designs of a friendly interference came too late. The +troops had got away, creeping stealthily through the morning dusk; and +he was still panting up Specimen Hill when he heard the crack of a +rifle. Confused shouts and cries followed. Then a bugle blared, and the +next instant the rattle and bang of musketry split the air. +</P> + +<P> +Together with a knot of others, who like himself had run forth half +dressed, Mahony stopped and waited, in extreme anxiety; and, while he +stood, the stars went out, one by one, as though a finger-tip touched +them. The diggers' response to the volley of the attacking party was +easily distinguished: it was a dropping fire, and sounded like a thin +hail-shower after a peal of thunder. Within half an hour all was over: +the barricade had fallen, to cheers and laughter from the military; the +rebel flag was torn down; huts and tents inside the enclosure were +going up in flames. +</P> + +<P> +Towards six o'clock, just as the December sun, huge and fiery, thrust +the edge of its globe above the horizon, a number of onlookers ran up +the slope to all that was left of the ill-fated stockade. On the dust, +bloodstains, now set hard as scabs, traced the route by which a +wretched procession of prisoners had been marched to the Camp gaol. +Behind the demolished barrier huts smouldered as heaps of blackened +embers; and the ground was strewn with stark forms, which lay +about—some twenty or thirty of them—in grotesque attitudes. Some +sprawled with outstretched arms, their sightless eyes seeming to fix +the pale azure of the sky; others were hunched and huddled in a last +convulsion. And in the course of his fruitless search for friend and +brother, an old instinct reasserted itself in Mahony: kneeling down he +began swiftly and dexterously to examine the prostrate bodies. Two or +three still heaved, the blood gurgling from throat and breast like +water from the neck of a bottle. Here, one had a mouth plugged with +shot, and a beard as stiff as though it were made of rope. Another that +he turned over was a German he had once heard speak at a diggers' +meeting—a windy braggart of a man, with a quaint impediment in his +speech. Well, poor soul! he would never mouth invectives or tickle the +ribs of an audience again. His body was a very colander of wounds. Some +had not bled either. It looked as though the soldiers had viciously +gone on prodding and stabbing the fallen. +</P> + +<P> +Stripping a corpse of its shirt, he tore off a piece of stuff to make a +bandage for a shattered leg. While he was binding the limb to a board, +young Tom ran up to say that the military, returning with carts, were +arresting every one they met in the vicinity. With others who had been +covering up and carrying away their friends, Mahony hastened down the +back of the hill towards the bush. Here was plain evidence of a +stampede. More bloodstains pointed the track, and a number of odd and +clumsy weapons had been dropped or thrown away by the diggers in their +flight. +</P> + +<P> +He went home with the relatively good tidings that neither Ned nor +Purdy was to be found. Polly was up and dressed. She had also lighted +the fire and set water on to boil, "just in case." "Was there ever such +a sensible little woman?" said her husband with a kiss. +</P> + +<P> +The day dragged by, flat and stale after the excitement of the morning. +No one ventured far from cover; for the military remained under arms, +and detachments of mounted troopers patrolled the streets. At the Camp +the hundred odd prisoners were being sorted out, and the maimed and +wounded doctored in the rude little temporary hospital. Down in Main +Street the noise of hammering went on hour after hour. The dead could +not be kept, in the summer heat, must be got underground before dark. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony had just secured his premises for the night, when there came a +rapping at the back door. In the yard stood a stranger who, when the +dog Pompey had been chidden and soothed, made mysterious signs to +Mahony and murmured a well-known name. Admitted to the sitting-room he +fished a scrap of dirty paper from his boot. Mahony put the candle on +the table and straightened out the missive. Sure enough, it was in +Purdy's hand—though sadly scrawled. +</P> + +<P> +HAVE BEEN HIT IN THE PIN. COME IF POSSIBLE AND BRING YOUR TOOLS. THE +BEARER IS SQUARE. +</P> + +<P> +Polly could hear the two of them talking in low, urgent tones. But her +relief that the visitor brought no bad news of her brother was dashed +when she learned that Richard had to ride out into the bush, to visit a +sick man. However she buttoned her bodice, and with her hair hanging +down her back went into the sitting-room to help her husband; for he +was turning the place upside down. He had a pair of probe-scissors +somewhere, he felt sure, if he could only lay hands on them. And while +he ransacked drawers and cupboards for one or other of the few poor +instruments left him, his thoughts went back, inopportunely enough, to +the time when he had been surgeon's dresser in the Edinburgh Royal +Infirmary. O TEMPORA, O MORES! He wondered what old Syme, that prince +of surgeons, would say, could he see his whilom student raking out a +probe from among the ladles and kitchen spoons, a roll of lint from +behind the saucepans. +</P> + +<P> +Bag in hand, he followed his guide to where the latter had left a horse +in safe-keeping; and having lengthened the stirrups and received +instructions about the road, he set off for the hut in the ranges which +Purdy had contrived to reach. He had an awkward cross-country ride of +some four miles before him; but this did not trouble him. The +chance-touched spring had opened the gates to a flood of memories; and, +as he jogged along, he re-lived in thought the happy days spent as a +student under the shadow of Arthur's Seat, round the College, the +Infirmary and old Surgeons' Square. Once more he sat in the theatre, +the breathless spectator of famous surgical operations; or as +house-surgeon to the Lying-in Hospital himself assisted in daring +attempts to lessen suffering and save life. It was, of course, too late +now to bemoan the fact that he had broken with his profession. Yet only +that very day envy had beset him. The rest of the fraternity had run to +and from the tents where the wounded were housed, while he, behung with +his shopman's apron, pottered about among barrels and crates. No one +thought of enlisting his services; another, not he, would set (or +bungle) the fracture he had temporarily splinted. +</P> + +<P> +The hut—it had four slab walls and an earthen floor—was in darkness +on his arrival, for Purdy had not dared to make a light. He lay tossing +restlessly on a dirty old straw palliasse, and was in great pain; but +greeted his friend with a dash of the old brio. +</P> + +<P> +Hanging his coat over the chinks in the door, and turning back his +sleeves, Mahony took up the lantern and stooped to examine the injured +leg. A bullet had struck the right ankle, causing an ugly wound. He +washed it out, dressed and bandaged it. He also bathed the patient's +sweat-soaked head and shoulders; then sat down to await the owner of +the hut's return. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as the latter appeared he took his leave, promising to ride out +again the night after next. In spite of the circumstances under which +they met, he and Purdy parted with a slight coolness. Mahony had loudly +voiced his surprise at the nature of the wound caused by the bullet: it +was incredible that any of the military could have borne a weapon of +this calibre. Pressed, Purdy admitted that his hurt was a piece of +gross ill-luck: he had been accidentally shot by a clumsy fool of a +digger, from an ancient holster-pistol. +</P> + +<P> +To Mahony this seemed to cap the climax; and he did not mask his +sentiments. The pitiful little forcible-feeble rebellion, all along but +a futile attempt to cast straws against the wind, was now completely +over and done with, and would never be heard of again. Or such at +least, he added, was the earnest hope of the law-abiding community. +This irritated Purdy, who was spumy with the self-importance of one who +has stood in the thick of the fray. He answered hotly, and ended by +rapping out with a contemptuous click of the tongue: "Upon my word, +Dick, you look at the whole thing like the tradesman you are!" +</P> + +<P> +These words rankled in Mahony all the way home.—Trust Purdy for not, +in anger, being able to resist giving him a flick on the raw. It made +him feel thankful he was no longer so dependent on this friendship as +of old. Since then he had tasted better things. Now, a woman's heart +beat in sympathetic understanding; there met his, two lips which had +never said an unkind word. He pushed on with a new zest, reaching home +about dawn. And over his young wife's joy at his safe return, he forgot +the shifting moods of his night-journey. +</P> + +<P> +It had, however, this result. Next day Polly found him with his head in +one of the great old shabby black books which, to her mind, spoilt the +neat appearance of the bookshelves. He stood to read, the volume lying +open before him on the top of the cold stove, and was so deeply +engrossed that the store-bell rang twice without his hearing it. When, +reminded that Hempel was absent, he whipped out to answer it, he +carried the volume with him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0202"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter II +</H3> + +<P> +But his first treatment of Purdy's wound was also his last. Two nights +later he found the hut deserted; and diligently as he prowled round it +in the moonlight, he could discover no clue to the fate of its +occupants. There was nothing to be done but to head his horse for home +again. Polly was more fortunate. Within three days of the fight Ned +turned up, sound as a bell. He was sporting a new hat, a flashy silk +neckerchief and a silver watch and chain. At sight of these kickshaws a +dismal suspicion entered Mahony's mind, and refused to be dislodged. +But he did not breathe his doubts—for Polly's sake. Polly was +rapturously content to see her brother again. She threw her arms round +his neck, and listened, with her big, black, innocent eyes—except for +their fleckless candour, the counterpart of Ned's own—to the tale of +his miraculous escape, and of the rich gutter he had had the good luck +to strike. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile public feeling, exasperated beyond measure by the tragedy of +that summer dawn, slowly subsided. Hesitation, timidity, and a very +human waiting on success had held many diggers back from joining in the +final coup; but the sympathy of the community was with the rebels, and +at the funerals of the fallen, hundreds of mourners, in such black +coats as they could muster, marched side by side to the wild little +unfenced bush cemetery. When, too, the relief-party arrived from +Melbourne and martial law was proclaimed, the residents handed over +their firearms as ordered; but an attempt to swear in special +constables failed, not a soul stepping forward in support of the +government. +</P> + +<P> +There was literally nothing doing during the month the military +occupied Ballarat. Mahony seized the opportunity to give his back +premises a coat of paint; he also began to catalogue his collection of +Lepidoptera. Hence, as far as business was concerned, it was a timely +moment for the arrival of a letter from Henry Ocock, to the effect +that, "subject of course to any part-heard case," "our case" was first +on the list for a date early in January. +</P> + +<P> +None the less, the announcement threw Mahony into the fidgets. He had +almost clean forgotten the plaguey affair: it had its roots in the dark +days before his marriage. He wished now he had thought twice before +letting himself be entangled in a lawsuit. Now, he had a wife dependent +on him, and to lose the case, and be held responsible for costs, would +cripple him. And such a verdict was not at all unlikely; for Purdy, his +chief witness, could not be got at: the Lord alone knew where Purdy lay +hid. He at once sat down and wrote the bad news to his solicitor. +</P> + +<P> +At six o'clock in the morning some few days later, he took his seat in +the coach for Melbourne. By his side sat Johnny Ocock, the elder of the +two brothers. Johnny had by chance been within earshot during the +negotiations with the rascally carrier, and on learning this, Henry had +straightway subpoenaed him. Mahony was none too well pleased: the boy +threatened to be a handful. His old father, on delivering him up at the +coach-office, had drawn Mahony aside to whisper: "Don't let the young +limb out o' yer sight, doc., or get nip or sip o' liquor. If 'e so much +as wets 'is tongue, there's no 'olding 'im." Johnny was a lean, +pimply-faced youth, with cold, flabby hands. +</P> + +<P> +Little Polly had to stay behind. Mahony would have liked to give her +the trip and show her the sights of the capital; but the law-courts +were no place for a woman; neither could he leave her sitting alone in +a hotel. And a tentative letter to her brother John had not called +forth an invitation: Mrs. Emma was in delicate health at present, and +had no mind for visitors. So he committed Polly to the care of Hempel +and Long Jim, both of whom were her faithful henchmen. She herself, in +proper wifely fashion, proposed to give her little house a good red-up +in its master's absence. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony and Johnny dismounted from the coach in the early afternoon, +sore, stiff and hungry: they had broken their fast merely on +half-a-dozen sandwiches, keeping their seats the while that the young +toper might be spared the sight of intoxicating liquors. Now, stopping +only to brush off the top layer of dust and snatch a bite of solid +food, Mahony hastened away, his witness at heel, to Chancery Lane. +</P> + +<P> +It was a relief to find that Ocock was not greatly put out at Purdy +having failed them. "Leave it to us, sir. We'll make that all right." +As on the previous visit he dry-washed his hands while he spoke, and +his little eyes shot flashes from one to the other, like electric +sparks. He proposed just to run through the morrow's evidence with "our +young friend there"; and in the course of this rehearsal said more than +once: "Good ... good! Why, sonny, you're quite smart." This when Johnny +succeeded in grasping his drift. But at the least hint of unreadiness +or hesitation, he tut-tutted and drew his brows together. And as it +went on, it seemed to Mahony that Ocock was putting words into the +boy's mouth; while Johnny, intimidated, said yes and amen to things he +could not possibly know. Presently he interfered to this effect. Ocock +brushed his remark aside. But after a second interruption from Mahony: +"I think, sir, with your permission we will ask John not to depart from +what he actually heard," the lawyer shuffled his papers into a heap and +said that would do for to-day: they would meet at the court in the +morning. Prior to shaking hands, however, he threw out a hint that he +would like a word with his brother on family matters. And for half an +hour Mahony paced the street below. +</P> + +<P> +The remainder of the day was spent in keeping Johnny out of +temptation's way, in trying to interest him in the life of the city, +its monuments and curiosities. But the lad was too apathetic to look +about him, and never opened his mouth. Once only in the course of the +afternoon did he offer a kind of handle. In their peregrinations they +passed a Book Arcade, where Mahony stopped to turn the leaves of a +volume. Johnny also took up a book, and began to read. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" asked Mahony. "Would you like to have it, my boy?" +</P> + +<P> +Johnny stonily accepted the gift—it was a tale of Red Indians, the +pages smudged with gaudy illustrations—and put it under his arm. +</P> + +<P> +At the good supper that was set before him he picked with a meagre +zest; then fell asleep. Mahony took the opportunity to write a line to +Polly to tell of their safe arrival; and having sealed the letter, ran +out to post it. He was not away for more than three minutes, but when +he came back Johnny was gone. He hunted high and low for him, ransacked +the place without success: the boy had spoken to no one, nor had he +been seen to leave the coffee-room; and as the clock-hands were nearing +twelve, Mahony was obliged to give up the search and go back to the +hotel. It was impossible at that hour to let Ocock know of this fresh +piece of ill-luck. Besides, there was just a chance the young scamp +would turn up in the morning. Morning came, however, and no Johnny with +it. Outwitted and chagrined, Mahony set off for the court alone. +</P> + +<P> +Day had broken dim and misty, and by the time breakfast was over a +north wind was raging—a furnace-like blast that bore off the sandy +deserts of the interior. The sun was a yellow blotch in a copper sky; +the thermometer had leapt to a hundred and ten in the shade. Blinding +clouds of coarse, gritty dust swept house-high through the streets: +half-suffocated, Mahony fought his way along, his veil lowered, his +handkerchief at his mouth. Outside those public-houses that advertised +ice, crowds stood waiting their turn of entry; while half-naked barmen, +their linen trousers drenched with sweat, worked like niggers to mix +drinks which should quench these bottomless thirsts. Mahony believed he +was the only perfectly sober person in the lobby of the court. Even +Ocock himself would seem to have been indulging. +</P> + +<P> +This suspicion was confirmed by the lawyer's behaviour. No sooner did +Ocock espy him than up he rushed, brandishing the note that had been +got to him early that morning—and now his eyes looked like little dabs +of pitch in his chalk-white face, and his manner, stripped of its +veneer, let the real man show through. +</P> + +<P> +"Curse it, sir, and what's the meaning of this, I'd like to know?" he +cried, and struck at the sheet of notepaper with his free hand. "A +pretty fix to put us in at the last minute, upon my word! It was your +business, sir, to nurse your witness ... after all the trouble I'd been +to with him! What the devil do you expect us to do now?" +</P> + +<P> +Mahony's face paled under its top-dressing of dust and moisture. To +Ocock's gross: "Well, it's your own look-out, confound you!—entirely +your own look-out," he returned a cool: "Certainly," then moved to one +side and took up his stand in a corner of the hall, out of the way of +the jostle and bustle, the constant going and coming that gave the +hinges of the door no rest. +</P> + +<P> +When after a weary wait the time came to enter court, he continued to +give Ocock, who had been deep in consultation with his clerk, a wide +berth, and moved forward among a number of other people. A dark, +ladder-like stair led to the upper storey. While he was mounting this, +some words exchanged in a low tone behind him arrested his attention. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you O.K., old man?" +</P> + +<P> +"We are, if our client doesn't give us away. But he has to be handled +like a hot—" Here the sentence snapped, for Mahony, bitten by a sudden +doubt, faced sharply round. But it was a stranger who uncivilly accused +him of treading on his toe. +</P> + +<P> +The court—it was not much more than twenty feet square—was like an +ill-smelling oven. Every chink and crack had been stopped against the +searing wind; and the atmosphere was a brew of all the sour odours, the +offensive breaths, given off by the two-score odd people crushed within +its walls. In spite of precautions the dust had got in: it lay thick on +sills, desks and papers, gritted between the teeth, made the throat +raspy as a file. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony had given up all hope of winning his case, and looked forward to +the sorry pleasure of assisting at a miscarriage of justice. During the +speech for the plaintiff, however, he began to see the matter in +another light. Not so much thanks to the speaker, as in spite of him. +Plaintiff's counsel was a common little fellow of ungainly appearance: +a double toll of fat bulged over the neck of his gown, and his wig, +hastily re-donned after a breathing-space, sat askew. Nor was he +anything of an orator: he stumbled over his sentences, and once or +twice lost his place altogether. To his dry presentment of the case +nobody seemed to pay heed. The judge, tired of wiping his spectacles +dry, leant back and closed his eyes. Mahony believed he slept, as did +also some of the jurors, deaf to the Citation of Dawes V. Peck and +Dunlop V. Lambert; to the assertion that the carrier was the agent, the +goods were accepted, the property had "passed." This "passing" of the +property was evidently a strong point; the plaintiff's name itself was +not much oftener on the speaker's lips. "The absconding driver, me Lud, +was a personal friend of the defendant's. Mr. Bolliver never knew him; +hence could not engage him. Had this person not been thrust upon him, +Mr. Bolliver would have employed the same carrier as on a previous +occasion." And so on and on. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony listened hand at ear, that organ not being keyed up to the +mutterings and mumblings of justice. And for all the dullness of the +subject-matter and counsel's lack of eloquence his interest did not +flag. It was the first time he heard the case for the other side stated +plainly; and he was dismayed to find how convincing it was. Put thus, +it must surely gain over every honest, straight-thinking man. In +comparison, the points Ocock was going to advance shrank to mere legal +quibbles and hair-splitting evasions. +</P> + +<P> +Then the plaintiff himself went into the witness-box—and Mahony's +feelings became involved as well. This his adversary!—this poor old +mangy greybeard, who stood blinking a pair of rheumy eyes and weakly +smiling. One did not pit oneself against such human flotsam. Drunkard +was stamped on every inch of the man, but this morning, in odd +exception to the well-primed crew around him, he was +sober—bewilderedly sober—and his shabby clothing was brushed, his +frayed collar clean. Recognising the pitiful bid for sympathy, Mahony +caught himself thinking: "Good Lord! I could have supplied him with a +coat he'd have cut a better figure than that in." +</P> + +<P> +Bolliver clutched the edge of the box with his two hands. His unusual +condition was a hindrance rather than a help to him; without a peg or +two his woolly thoughts were not to be disentangled. He stammered forth +his evidence, halting either to piece together what he was going to +say, or to recollect what he had just said—it was clear he went in +mortal fear of contradicting himself. The scene was painful enough +while he faced his own counsel, but, when counsel for the defence rose, +a half-hour followed in which Mahony wished himself far from the court. +</P> + +<P> +Bolliver could not come to the point. Counsel was merciless and +coarsely jocose, and brought off several laughs. His victim wound his +knotty hands in and out, and swallowed oftener than he had saliva for, +in a forlorn endeavour to evade the pitfalls artfully dug for him. More +than once he threw a covert glance, that was like an appeal for help, +at all the indifferent faces. Mahony drooped his head, that their eyes +should not meet. +</P> + +<P> +In high feather at the effect he was producing, counsel inserted his +left arm under his gown, and held the stuff out from his back with the +tips of all five fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"And now you'll p'raps have the goodness to tell us whether you've ever +had occasion to send goods by a carrier before, in the course of your +young life?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." It was a humble monosyllable, returned without spirit. +</P> + +<P> +"Then of course you've heard of this Murphy?" +</P> + +<P> +"N ... no, I haven't," answered Bolliver, and let his vacillating eyes +wander to the judge and back. +</P> + +<P> +"You tell that to the marines!" And after half a dozen other tricky +questions: "I put it to you, it's a well-known fact that he's been a +carrier hereabouts for the last couple o' years or more?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know—I sup ... sup-pose so." Bolliver's tongue grew heavy and +tripped up his words. +</P> + +<P> +"And yet you've the cheek, you old rogue you, to insinuate that this +was a put-up job?" +</P> + +<P> +"I ... I only say what I heard." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care a button what you heard or didn't hear. What I ask, my +pretty, is do you yourself say so?" +</P> + +<P> +"The ... the defendant recommended him." +</P> + +<P> +"I put it to you, this man Murphy was one of the best known carriers in +Melbourne, and THAT was why the defendant recommended him—are you out +to deny it?" +</P> + +<P> +"N ... n ... no." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you can stand down!" and leaning over to Grindle, who was below +him, counsel whispered with a pleased spread of the hand: "There you +are! that's our case." +</P> + +<P> +There was a painful moment just before Bolliver left the witness-box. +As if become suddenly alive to the sorry figure he had cut, he turned +to the judge with hands clasped, exclaimed: "My Lord, if the case goes +against me, I'm done ... stony-broke! And the defendant's got a down on +me, my Lord—'e's made up his mind to ruin me. Look at him a-setting +there—a hard man, a mean man, if ever you saw one! What would the bit +of money 'ave meant to 'im? But ..." +</P> + +<P> +He was rudely silenced and hustled away, to a sharp rebuke from the +judge, who woke up to give it. All eyes were turned on Mahony. Under +the fire of observation—they were comparing him, he knew, with the +poor old Jeremy Diddler yonder, to the latter's disadvantage—his spine +stiffened and he held himself nervously erect. But, the quizzing at an +end, he fumbled with his finger at his neck—his collar seemed to have +grown too tight. While, without, the hot blast, dark with dust, flung +itself against the corners of the house, and howled like a soul in pain. +</P> + +<P> +Counsel for the defence made an excellent impression. "Naturally! I can +afford to pay a better-class man," was Mahony's caustic note. He had +fallen to scribbling on a sheet of paper, and was resigned to sitting +through an adept presentment of Ocock's shifts and dodges. But the +opening words made him prick up his ears. +</P> + +<P> +"My Lord," said counsel, "I submit there is here no case to go to the +jury. No written contract existed between the parties, to bring it +within the Statute of Frauds. Therefore, the plaintiff must prove that +the defendant accepted these goods. Now I submit to you, on the +plaintiff's own admission, that the man Murphy was a common carrier. +Your Lordship will know the cases of Hanson V. Armitage and various +others, in which it has been established beyond doubt that a carrier is +not an agent to accept goods." +</P> + +<P> +The judge had revived, and while counsel called the quality of the +undelivered goods in question, and laid stress on the fact of no money +having passed, he turned the pages of a thick red book with a moistened +thumb. Having found what he sought, he pushed up his spectacles, opened +his mouth, and, his eyes bent meditatively on the speaker, picked a +back tooth with the nail of his first finger. +</P> + +<P> +"Therefore," concluded counsel, "I hold that there is no question of +fact to go to the jury. I do not wish to occupy your Lordship's time +any further upon this submission. I have my client here, and all his +witnesses are in court whom I am prepared to call, should your Lordship +decide against me on the present point. But I do submit that the +plaintiff, on his own showing, has made out no case; and that under the +circumstances, upon his own evidence, this action must fail." +</P> + +<P> +At the reference to witnesses, Mahony dug his pencil into the paper +till the point snapped. So this was their little game! And should the +bluff not work ...? He sat rigid, staring at the chipped fragment of +lead, and did not look up throughout the concluding scene of the farce. +</P> + +<P> +It was over; the judge had decided in his favour. He jumped to his +feet, and his coat-sleeve swept the dust off the entire length of the +ledge in front of him. But before he reached the foot of the stairs +Grindle came flying down, to say that Ocock wished to speak to him. +Very good, replied Mahony, he would call at the office in the course of +the afternoon. But the clerk left the courthouse at his side. And +suddenly the thought flashed through Mahony's mind: "The fellow +suspects me of trying to do a bolt—of wanting to make off without +paying my bill!" +</P> + +<P> +The leech-like fashion in which Grindle stuck to his heels was not to +be misread. "This is what they call nursing, I suppose—he's nursing ME +now!" said Mahony to himself. At the same time he reckoned up, with +some anxiety, the money he had in his pocket. Should it prove +insufficient, who knew what further affronts were in store for him. +</P> + +<P> +But Ocock had recovered his oily sleekness. +</P> + +<P> +"A close shave that, sir, a VE-RY close shave! With Warnock on the +bench I thought we could manage to pull it off. Had it been Guppy now +... Still, all's well that ends well, as the poet says. And now for a +trifling matter of business." +</P> + +<P> +"How much do I owe you?" +</P> + +<P> +The bill—it was already drawn up—for "solicitor's and client's costs" +came to twenty odd pounds. Mahony paid it, and stalked out of the +office. +</P> + +<P> +But this was still not all. Once again Grindle ran after him, and +pinned him to the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"I say, Mr. Mahony, a rare joke—gad, it's enough to make you burst +your sides! That old thingumbob, the plaintiff, ye know, now what'n +earth d'you think 'e's been an' done? Gets outer court like one +o'clock—'e'd a sorter rabbit-fancyin' business in 'is backyard. Well, +'ome 'e trots an' slits the guts of every blamed bunny, an' chucks the +bloody corpses inter the street. Oh lor! What do you say to that, eh? +Unfurnished in the upper storey, what? Heh, heh, heh!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0203"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter III +</H3> + +<P> +How truly "home" the poor little gimcrack shanty had become to him, +Mahony grasped only when he once more crossed its threshold and Polly's +arms lay round his neck. +</P> + +<P> +His search for Johnny Ocock had detained him in Melbourne for over a +week. Under the guidance of young Grindle he had scoured the city, not +omitting even the dens of infamy in the Chinese quarter; and he did not +know which to be more saddened by: the revolting sights he saw, or his +guide's proud familiarity with every shade of vice. But nothing could +be heard of the missing lad; and at the suggestion of Henry Ocock he +put an advertisement in the ARGUS, offering a substantial reward for +news of Johnny alive or dead. +</P> + +<P> +While waiting to see what this would bring forth, he paid a visit to +John Turnham. It had not been part of his scheme to trouble his new +relatives on this occasion; he bore them a grudge for the way they had +met Polly's overture. But he was at his wits' end how to kill time: +chafing at the delay was his main employment, if he were not worrying +over the thought of having to appear before old Ocock without his son. +So, one midday he called at Turnham's place of business in Flinders +Lane, and was affably received by John, who carried him off to lunch at +the Melbourne Club. Turnham was a warm partisan of the diggers' cause. +He had addressed a mass meeting held in Melbourne, soon after the fight +on the Eureka; and he now roundly condemned the government's policy of +repression. +</P> + +<P> +"I am, as you are aware, my dear Mahony, no sentimentalist. But these +rioters of yours seem to me the very type of man the country needs. +Could we have a better bedrock on which to build than these fearless +champions of liberty?" +</P> + +<P> +He set an excellent meal before his brother-in-law, and himself ate and +drank heartily, unfolding his very table-napkin with a kind of relish. +In lunching, he inquired the object of Mahony's journey to town. At the +mention of Henry Ocock's name he raised his eyebrows and pursed his +lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, indeed! Then it is hardly necessary to ask the upshot." +</P> + +<P> +He pooh-poohed Mahony's intention of staying till the defaulting +witness was found; disapproved, too, the offer of a reward. "To be paid +out of YOUR pocket, of course! No, my dear Mahony, set your mind at +rest and return to your wife. Lads of that sort never come to +grief—more's the pity! By the bye, how IS Polly, and how does she like +life on the diggings?" +</P> + +<P> +In this connection, Mahony tendered congratulations on the expected +addition to Turnham's family. John embarked readily enough on the theme +of his beautiful wife; but into his voice, as he talked, came a note of +impatience or annoyance, which formed an odd contrast to his wonted +self-possession. "Yes... her third, and for some reason which I cannot +fathom, it threatens to prove the most trying of any." And here he went +into medical detail on Mrs. Emma's state. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony urged compliance with the whims of the mother-to-be, even should +they seem extravagant. "Believe me, at a time like this such moods and +caprices have their use. Nature very well knows what she is about." +</P> + +<P> +"Nature? Bah! I am no great believer in nature," gave back John, and +emptied his glass of madeira. "Nature exists to be coerced and +improved." +</P> + +<P> +They parted; and Mahony went back to twirl his thumbs in the hotel +coffee-room. He could not persuade himself to take Turnham's advice and +leave Johnny to his fate. And the delay was nearly over. At dawn next +morning Johnny was found lying in a pitiable condition at the door of +the hotel. It took Mahony the best part of the day to rouse him; to +make him understand he was not to be horsewhipped; to purchase a fresh +suit of clothing for him: to get him, in short, halfway ready to travel +the following day—a blear-eyed, weak-witted craven, who fell into a +cold sweat at every bump of the coach. Not till they reached the end of +the awful journey—even a Chinaman rose to impudence about Johnny's +nerves, his foul breath, his cracked lips—did Mahony learn how the +wretched boy had come by the money for his debauch. At the public-house +where the coach drew up, old Ocock stood grimly waiting, with a leather +thong at his belt, and the news that his till had been broken open and +robbed of its contents. With an involuntary recommendation to mercy, +Mahony handed over the culprit and turned his steps home. +</P> + +<P> +Polly stood on tip-toe to kiss him; Pompey barked till the roof rang, +making leaps that fell wide of the mark; the cat hoisted its tail, and +wound purring in and out between his legs. Tea was spread, on a clean +cloth, with all sorts of good things to eat; an English mail had +brought him a batch of letters and journals. Altogether it was a very +happy home-coming. +</P> + +<P> +When he had had a sponge-down and finished tea, over which he listened, +with a zest that surprised him, to a hundred and one domestic details: +afterwards he and Polly strolled arm-in-arm to the top of the little +hill to which, before marriage, he used to carry her letters. Here they +sat and talked till night fell; and, for the first time, Mahony tasted +the dregless pleasure of coming back from the world outside with his +toll of adventure, and being met by a woman's lively and disinterested +sympathy. Agreeable incidents gained, those that were the reverse of +pleasing lost their sting by being shared with Polly. Not that he told +her everything; of the dark side of life he greatly preferred little +Polly to remain ignorant. Still, as far as it went, it was a delightful +experience. In return he confessed to her something of the uncertainty +that had beset him, on hearing his opponent's counsel state the case +for the other side. It was disquieting to think he might be suspected +of advancing a claim that was not strictly just. +</P> + +<P> +"Suspected? ... YOU? Oh, how could anybody be so silly!" +</P> + +<P> +For all the fatigues of his day Mahony could not sleep. And after +tossing and tumbling for some time, he rose, threw on his clothing and +went out to smoke a pipe in front of the store. Various worries were +pecking at him—the hint he had given Polly of their existence seemed +to have let them fairly loose upon him. Of course he would be—he +was—suspected of having connived at the imposture by which his suit +was won—why else have put it in the hands of such a one as Ocock? John +Turnham's soundless whistle of astonishment recurred to him, and +flicked him. Imagine it! He, Richard Mahony, giving his sanction to +these queasy tricks! +</P> + +<P> +It was bad enough to know that Ocock at any rate had believed him not +averse from winning by unjust means. Yet, on the whole, he thought this +mortified him less than to feel that he had been written down a Simple +Simon, whom it was easy to impose on. Ah well! At best he had been but +a kind of guy, set up for them to let off their verbal fireworks round. +Faith and that was all these lawyer-fellows wanted—the ghost of an +excuse for parading their skill. Justice played a negligible role in +this battle of wits; else not he but the plaintiff would have come out +victorious. That wretched Bolliver! ... the memory of him wincing and +flushing in the witness-box would haunt him for the rest of his days. +He could see him, too, with equal clearness, broken-heartedly slitting +the gizzards of his, pets. A poor old derelict—the amen to a life +which, like most lives, had once been flush with promise. And it had +been his Mahony's., honourable portion to give the last kick, the +ultimate shove into perdition. Why, he would rather have lost the money +ten times over! +</P> + +<P> +To divert his mind, he began next morning to make an inventory of the +goods in the store. It was high time, too: thanks to the recent +disturbances he did not know where he stood. And while he was about it, +he gave the place a general clean-up. A job of this kind was a powerful +ally in keeping edged thoughts at bay. He and his men had their hands +full for several days, Polly, who was not allowed to set foot in the +store, peeping critically in at them to see how they progressed. And, +after business hours, there was little Polly herself. +</P> + +<P> +He loved to contemplate her. +</P> + +<P> +Six months of married life had worked certain changes in his black-eyed +slip of a girl; but something of the doe-like shyness that had caught +his fancy still clung to her. With strangers she could even yet be +touchingly bashful. Not long out of short frocks, she found it +difficult to stand upon her dignity as Mrs. Dr. Mahony. Besides, it was +second nature to Polly to efface herself, to steal mousily away. +Unless, of course, some one needed help or was in distress, in which +case she forgot to be shy. To her husband's habits and idiosyncrasies +she had adapted herself implicitly—but this came easy; for she was +sure everything Richard did was right, and that his way of looking at +things was the one and only way. So there was no room for discord +between them. By this time Polly could laugh over the dismay of her +first homecoming: the pitch-dark night and unfamiliar road, the racket +of the serenade, the apparition of the great spider: now, all this +might have happened to somebody else, not Polly Mahony. Her dislike of +things that creep and crawl was, it is true, inborn, and persisted; but +nowadays if one of the many "triantelopes" that infested the roof +showed its hairy legs, she had only to call Hempel, and out the latter +would pop with a broomstick, to do away with the creature. If a +scorpion or a centipede wriggled from under a log, the cry of "Tom!" +would bring the idle lad next door double-quick over the fence. Polly +had learnt not to summon her husband on these occasions; for Richard +held to the maxim: "Live and let live." If at night a tarantula +appeared on the bedroom-wall, he caught it in a covered glass and +carried it outside: "Just to come in again," was her rueful reflection. +But indeed Polly was surrounded by willing helpers. And small wonder, +thought Mahony. Her young nerves were so sound that Hempel's dry cough +never grated them: she doctored him and fussed over him, and was +worried that she could not cure him. She met Long Jim's grumbles with a +sunny face, and listened patiently to his forebodings that he would +never see "home" or his old woman again. She even brought out a clumsy +good-will in the young varmint Tom; nor did his old father's want of +refinement repel her. +</P> + +<P> +"But, Richard, he's such a kind old man," she met her husband's +admission of this stumbling-block. "And it isn't his fault that he +wasn't properly educated. He has had to work for his living ever since +he was twelve years old." +</P> + +<P> +And Mr. Ocock cried quits by remarking confidentially: "That little +lady o' yours 'as got 'er 'eadpiece screwed on the right way. It beats +me, doc., why you don't take 'er inter the store and learn 'er the +bizness. No offence, I'm sure," he made haste to add, disconcerted by +Mahony's cold stare. +</P> + +<P> +Had anyone at this date tried to tell Polly she lived in a mean, rough +home, he would have had a poor reception. Polly was long since certain +that not a house on the diggings could compare with theirs. This was a +trait Mahony loved in her—her sterling loyalty; a loyalty that +embraced not only her dear ones themselves, but every stick and stone +belonging to them. His discovery of it helped him to understand her +allegiance to her own multicoloured family: in the beginning he had +almost doubted its sincerity. Now, he knew her better. It was just as +though a sixth sense had been implanted in Polly, enabling her to +pierce straight through John's self-sufficiency or Ned's vapourings, to +the real kernel of goodness that no doubt lay hid below. He himself +could not get at it; but then his powers of divination were the exact +opposite of Polly's. He was always struck by the weak or ridiculous +side of a person, and had to dig laboriously down to the virtues. While +his young wife, by a kind of genius, saw the good at a glance—and saw +nothing else. And she did not stint with her gift, or hoard it up +solely for use on her own kith and kin. Her splendid sympathy was the +reverse of clannish; it was applied to every mortal who crossed her +path. +</P> + +<P> +Yes, for all her youth, Polly had quite a character of her own; and +even thus early her husband sometimes ran up against a certain native +sturdiness of opinion. But this did not displease him; on the contrary, +he would have thanked you for a wife who was only an echo of himself. +To take the case of the animals. He had a profound respect for those +creatures to which speech has been denied; and he treated the +four-footers that dwelt under his roof as his fellows, humanising them, +reading his own thoughts into them, and showing more consideration for +their feelings than if they had been able to speak up for themselves. +Polly saw this in the light of an exquisite joke. She was always kind +to Pompey and the stately Palmerston, and would as soon have forgotten +to set Richard's dinner before him as to feed the pair; but they +remained "the dog" and "the cat" to her, and, if they had enough to +eat, and received neither kicks nor blows, she could not conceive of +their souls asking more. It went beyond her to study the cat's dislike +to being turned off its favourite chair, or to believe that the dog did +not make dirty prints on her fresh scrubbed floor out of malice +prepense; it was also incredible that he should have doggy fits of +depression, in which up he must to stick a cold, slobbery snout into a +warm human hand. And when Richard tried to conciliate Palmerston +stalking sulky to the door, or to pet away the melancholy in the +rejected Pompey's eyes, Polly had to lay down her sewing and laugh at +her husband, so greatly did his behaviour amuse her. +</P> + +<P> +Again, there was the question of literature. Books to Mahony were +almost as necessary as bread; to his girl-wife, on the other hand, they +seemed a somewhat needless luxury—less vital by far than the animals +that walked the floor. She took great care of the precious volumes +Richard had had carted up from Melbourne; but the cost of the transport +was what impressed her most. It was not an overstatement, thought +Mahony, to say that a stack of well-chopped, neatly piled wood meant +more to Polly than all the books ever written. Not that she did not +enjoy a good story: her work done, she liked few things better; and he +often smiled at the ease with which she lived herself into the world of +make-believe, knowing, of course, that it WAS make-believe and just a +kind of humbug. But poetry, and the higher fiction! Little Polly's +professed love for poetry had been merely a concession to the +conventional idea of girlhood; or, at best, such a burning wish to be +all her Richard desired, that, at the moment, she was convinced of the +truth of what she said. But did he read to her from his favourite +authors her attention WOULD wander, in spite of the efforts she made to +pin it down. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony declaimed: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +'TIS THE SUNSET OF LIFE GIVES US MYSTICAL LORE, +<BR> +AND COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE, +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +and his pleasure in the swing of the couplet was such that he repeated +it. +</P> + +<P> +Polly wakened with a start. Her thoughts had been miles away—had been +back at the "Family Hotel". There Purdy, after several adventures, his +poor leg a mass of supuration, had at length betaken himself, to be +looked after by his Tilly; and Polly's hopes were all alight again. +</P> + +<P> +She blushed guiltily at the repetition, and asked her husband to say +the lines once again. He did so. +</P> + +<P> +"But they don't really, Richard, do they?" she said in an apologetic +tone—she referred to the casting of shadows. "It would be so useful if +they did—" and she drew a sigh at Purdy's dilatory treatment of the +girl who loved him so well. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you prosaic little woman!" cried Mahony, and laid down his book to +kiss her. It was impossible to be vexed with Polly: she was so honest, +so transparent. "Did you never hear of a certain something called +poetic licence?" +</P> + +<P> +No: Polly was more or less familiar with various other forms of +licence, from the gold-diggers' that had caused all the fuss, down to +the special licence by which she had been married; but this particular +one had not come her way. And on Richard explaining to her the liberty +poets allowed themselves, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and +was sorry to think he approved. It seemed to her just a fine name for +wanton exaggeration—if not something worse. +</P> + +<P> +There were also those long evenings they spent over the first hundred +pages of WAVERLEY. Mahony, eager for her to share his enthusiasm, +comforted her each night anew that they would soon reach the story +proper, and then, how interested she would be! But the opening chapters +were a sandy desert of words, all about people duller than any Polly +had known alive; and sometimes, before the book was brought out, she +would heave a secret sigh—although, of course, she enjoyed sitting +cosily together with Richard, watching him and listening to his voice. +But they might have put their time to a pleasanter use: by talking of +themselves, or their friends, or how further to improve their home, or +what the store was doing. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony saw her smiling to herself one evening; and after assuring +himself that there was nothing on the page before him to call that +pleased look to her young face, he laid the book down and offered her a +penny for her thoughts. But Polly was loath to confess to +wool-gathering. +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't succeeded in interesting you, have I, Pollikins?" +</P> + +<P> +She made haste to contradict him. Oh, it was very nice, and she loved +to hear him read. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, honestly now, little woman!" +</P> + +<P> +She faced him squarely at that, though with pink cheeks. "Well, not +much, Richard." +</P> + +<P> +He took her on his knee. "And what were you smiling at?" +</P> + +<P> +"Me? Oh, I was just thinking of something that happened yesterday"—and +Polly sat up, agog to tell. +</P> + +<P> +It appeared that the day before, while he was out, the digger's wife +who did Polly's rough work for her had rushed in, crying that her +youngest was choking. Bonnetless, Polly had flown across to the woman's +hut. There she discovered the child, a fat youngster of a year or so, +purple in the face, with a button wedged in its throat. Taking it by +the heels she shook the child vigorously, upside-down; and, lo and +behold! this had the opposite effect to what she intended. When they +straightened the child out again the button was found to have passed +the danger-point and gone down. Quickly resolved, Polly cut slice on +slice of thin bread-and-butter, and with this she and Mrs. Hemmerde +stuffed the willing babe till, full to bursting, it warded them off +with its tiny hands. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony laughed heartily at the tale, and applauded his wife's prompt +measures. "Short of the forceps nothing could have been better!" +</P> + +<P> +Yes, Polly had a dash of native shrewdness, which he prized. And a pair +of clever hands that were never idle. He had given her leave to make +any changes she chose in the house, and she was for ever stitching away +at white muslin, or tacking it over pink calico. These affairs made +their little home very spick and span, and kept Polly from feeling +dull—if one could imagine Polly dull! With the cooking alone had there +been a hitch in the beginning. Like a true expert Mrs. Beamish had not +tolerated understudies: none but the lowliest jobs, such as +raisin-stoning or potato-peeling, had fallen to the three girls' share: +and in face of her first fowl Polly stood helpless and dismayed. But +not for long. Sarah was applied to for the best cookery-book on sale in +Melbourne, and when this arrived, Polly gave herself up to the study of +it. She had many failures, both private and avowed. With the worst, she +either retired behind the woodstack, or Tom disposed of them for her, +or the dog ate them up. But she persevered: and soon Mahony could with +truth declare that no one raised a better loaf or had a lighter hand at +pastry than his wife. +</P> + +<P> +Three knocks on the wooden partition was the signal which, if he were +not serving a customer, summoned him to the kitchen. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard, it's ripen beautifully!" And, red with heat and pride, +Polly drew a great golden-crusted, blown-up sponge-cake along the oven +shelf. Richard, who had a sweet tooth, pretended to be unable to curb +his impatience. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait! First I must see ..." and she plunged a knife into the cake's +heart: it came out untarnished. "Yes, it's done to a turn." +</P> + +<P> +There and then it was cut; for, said Mahony, that was the only way in +which he could make sure of a piece. Afterwards chunks were dealt out +to every one Polly knew—to Long Jim, Hempel, Tommy Ocock, the little +Hemmerdes. Side by side on the kitchen-table, their feet dangling in +the air, husband and wife sat boy-and-girl fashion and munched hot +cake, till their appetites for dinner were wrecked. +</P> + +<P> +But the rains that heralded winter—and they set in early that +year—had not begun to fall when more serious matters claimed Mahony's +attention. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0204"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter IV +</H3> + +<P> +It was an odd and inexplicable thing that business showed no sign of +improving. Affairs on Ballarat had, for months past, run their usual +prosperous course. The western township grew from day to day, and was +straggling right out to the banks of the great swamp. On the Flat, the +deep sinking that was at present the rule—some parties actually +touched a depth of three hundred feet before bottoming—had brought a +fresh host of fortune-hunters to the spot, and the results obtained bid +fair to rival those of the first golden year. The diggers' grievances +and their conflict with the government were now a turned page. At a +state trial all prisoners had been acquitted, and a general amnesty +declared for those rebels who were still at large. Unpopular ministers +had resigned or died; a new constitution for the colony awaited the +Royal assent; and pending this, two of the rebel-leaders, now prominent +townsmen, were chosen to sit in the Legislative Council. The future +could not have looked rosier. For others, that was. For him, Mahony, it +held more than one element of uncertainty. +</P> + +<P> +At no time had he come near making a fortune out of storekeeping. For +one thing, he had been too squeamish. From the outset he had declined +to soil his hands with surreptitious grog-selling; nor would he be a +party to that evasion of the law which consisted in overcharging on +other goods, and throwing in drinks free. Again, he would rather have +been hamstrung than stoop to the tricks in vogue with regard to the +weighing of gold-dust: the greased scales, the wet sponge, false beams, +and so on. Accordingly, he had a clearer conscience than the majority +and a lighter till. But even at the legitimate ABC of business he had +proved a duffer. He had never, for instance, learned to be a really +skilled hand at stocking a shop. Was an out-of-the-way article called +for, ten to one he had run short of it; and the born shopman's knack of +palming off or persuading to a makeshift was not his. Such goods as he +had, he did not press on people; his attitude was always that of "take +it or leave it"; and he sometimes surprised a ridiculous feeling of +satisfaction when he chased a drunken and insolent customer off the +premises, or secured an hour's leisure unbroken by the jangle of the +store-bell. +</P> + +<P> +Still, in spite of everything he had, till recently, done well enough. +Money was loose, and the diggers, if given long credit when down on +their luck, were in the main to be relied on to pay up when they struck +the lead or tapped a pocket. He had had slack seasons before now, and +things had always come right again. This made it hard for him to +explain the present prolonged spell of dullness. +</P> + +<P> +That there was something more than ordinarily wrong first dawned on him +during the stock-taking in summer. Hempel and he were constantly coming +upon goods that had been too long on hand, and were now fit only to be +thrown away. Half-a-dozen boxes of currants showed a respectable growth +of mould; a like fate had come upon some flitches of bacon; and not a +bag of flour but had developed a species of minute maggot. Rats had got +at his coils of rope, one of which, sold in all good faith, had gone +near causing the death of the digger who used it. The remains of some +smoked fish were brought back and flung at his head with a shower of +curses, by a woman who had fallen ill through eating of it. And yet, in +spite of the replenishing this involved, the order he sent to town that +season was the smallest he had ever given. For the first time he could +not fill a dray, but had to share one with a greenhorn, who, if you +please, was setting up at his very door. +</P> + +<P> +He and Hempel cracked their brains to account for the falling-off—or +at least he did: afterwards he believed Hempel had suspected the truth +and been too mealy-mouthed to speak out. It was Polly who +innocently—for of course he did not draw her into confidence—Polly +supplied the clue from a piece of gossip brought to the house by the +woman Hemmerde. It appeared that, at the time of the rebellion, +Mahony's open antagonism to the Reform League had given offence all +round—to the extremists as well as to the more wary on whose behalf +the League was drafted. They now got even with him by taking their +custom elsewhere. He snorted with indignation on hearing of it; then +laughed ironically. He was expected, was he, not only to bring his +personal tastes and habits into line with those of the majority, but to +deny his politics as well? And if he refused, they would make it hard +for him to earn a decent living in their midst. Nothing seemed easier +to these unprincipled democrats than for a man to cut his coat to suit +his job. Why, he might just as well turn Whig and be done with it! +</P> + +<P> +He sat over his account-books. The pages were black with bad debts for +"tucker." Here however was no mystery. The owners of these names—Purdy +was among them—had without doubt been implicated in the Eureka riot, +and had made off and never returned. He struck a balance, and found to +his consternation that, unless business took a turn for the better, he +would not be able to hold out beyond the end of the year. Afterwards, +he was blessed if he knew what was going to happen. The ingenious +Hempel was full of ideas for tempting back fortune—opening a branch +store on a new lead was one of them, or removing bodily to Main +Street—but ready money was the SINE QUA NON of such schemes, and ready +money he had not got. Since his marriage he had put by as good as +nothing; and the enlarging and improving of his house, at that time, +had made a big hole in his bachelor savings. He did not feel justified +at the present pass in drawing on them anew. For one thing, before +summer was out there would be, if all went well, another mouth to feed. +And that meant a variety of seen and unforeseen expenses. +</P> + +<P> +Such were the material anxieties he had to encounter in the course of +that winter. Below the surface a subtler embarrassment worked to +destroy his peace. In face of the shortage of money, he was obliged to +thank his stars that he had not lost the miserable lawsuit of a few +months back. Had that happened, he wouldn't at present have known where +to turn. But this amounted to confessing his satisfaction at having +pulled off his case, pulled it off anyhow, by no matter what crooked +means. And as if this were not enough, the last words he had heard +Purdy say came back to sting him anew. The boy had accused him of +judging a fight for freedom from a tradesman's standpoint. Now it might +be said of him that he was viewing justice from the same angle. He had +scorned the idea of distorting his political opinions to fit the trade +by which he gained his bread. But it was a far more serious thing if +his principles, his character, his sense of equity were all to be +undermined as well. If he stayed here, he would end by becoming as +blunt to what was right and fair as the rest of them. As it was, he was +no longer able to regard the two great landmarks of man's moral +development—liberty and justice—from the point of view of an honest +man and a gentleman. +</P> + +<P> +His self-annoyance was so great that it galvanised him to action. There +and then he made up his mind: as soon as the child that was coming to +them was old enough to travel, he would sell out for what he could get, +and go back to the old country. Once upon a time he had hoped, when he +went, to take a good round sum with him towards a first-rate English +practice. Now he saw that this scheme had been a kind of +Jack-o'-lantern—a marsh-light after which he might have danced for +years to come. As matters stood, he must needs be content if, the +passage-moneys paid, he could scrape together enough to keep him afloat +till he found a modest corner to slip into. +</P> + +<P> +His first impulse was to say nothing of this to his wife in the +meantime. Why unsettle her? But he had reckoned without the sudden +upward leap his spirits made, once his decision was taken: the winter +sky was blue as violets again above him; he turned out light-heartedly +of a morning. It was impossible to hide the change in his mood from +Polly—even if he had felt it fair to do so. Another thing: when he +came to study Polly by the light of his new plan, he saw that his +scruples about unsettling her were fanciful—wraiths of his own +imagining. As a matter of fact, the sooner he broke the news to her the +better. Little Polly was so thoroughly happy here that she would need +time to accustom herself to the prospect of life elsewhere. +</P> + +<P> +He went about it very cautiously though; and with no hint of the sour +and sorry incidents that had driven him to the step. As was only +natural, Polly was rather easily upset at present: the very evening +before, he had had occasion to blame himself for his tactless behaviour. +</P> + +<P> +In her first sick young fear Polly had impulsively written off to +Mother Beamish, to claim the fulfilment of that good woman's promise to +stand by her when her time came. One letter gave another; Mrs. Beamish +not only announced that she would hold herself ready to support her +"little duck" at a moment's notice, but filled sheets with sage advice +and old wives' maxims; and the correspondence, which had languished, +flared up anew. Now came an ill-scrawled, misspelt epistle from +Tilly—doleful, too, for Purdy had once more quitted her without +speaking the binding word—in which she told that Purdy's leg, though +healed, was permanently shortened; the doctor in Geelong said he would +never walk straight again. +</P> + +<P> +Husband and wife sat and discussed the news, wondered how lameness +would affect Purdy's future and what he was doing now, Tilly not having +mentioned his whereabouts. "She has probably no more idea than we +have," said Mahony. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid not," said Polly with a sigh. "Well, I hope he won't come +back here, that's all"; and she considered the seam she was sewing, +with an absent air. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, love? Don't you like old Dickybird?" asked Mahony in no small +surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, quite well. But..." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it because he still can't make up his mind to take your Tilly—eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"That, too. But chiefly because of something he said." +</P> + +<P> +"And what was that, my dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, very silly," and Polly smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Out with it, madam! Or I shall suspect the young dog of having made +advances to my wife." +</P> + +<P> +"Richard, DEAR!" Little Polly thought he was in earnest, and grew +exceedingly confused. "Oh no, nothing like that," she assured him, and +with red cheeks rushed into an explanation. "He only said, in spite of +you being such old friends he felt you didn't really care to have him +here on Ballarat. After a time you always invented some excuse to get +him away." But now that it was out, Polly felt the need of toning down +the statement, and added: "I shouldn't wonder if he was silly enough to +think you were envious of him, for having so many friends and being +liked by all sorts of people." +</P> + +<P> +"Envious of him? I? Who on earth has been putting such ideas into your +head?" cried Mahony. +</P> + +<P> +"It was 'mother' thought so—it was while I was still there," stammered +Polly, still more fluttered by the fact of him fastening on just these +words. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony tried to quell his irritation by fidgeting round the room. +"Surely, Polly, you might give up calling that woman 'mother,' now you +belong to me—I thank you for the relationship!" he said testily. And +having with much unnecessary ado knocked the ashes out of his pipe, he +went on: "It's bad enough to say things of that kind; but to repeat +them, love, is in even poorer taste." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Richard," said Polly meekly. +</P> + +<P> +But her amazed inner query was: "Not even to one's own husband?" +</P> + +<P> +She hung her head, till the white thread of parting between the dark +loops of her hair was almost perpendicular. She had spoken without +thinking in the first place—had just blurted out a passing thought. +But even when forced to explain, she had never dreamt of Richard taking +offence. Rather she had imagined the two of them—two banded lovingly +against one—making merry together over Purdy's nonsense. She had heard +her husband laugh away much unkinder remarks than this. And perhaps if +she had stopped there, and said no more, it might have been all right. +By her stupid attempt to gloss things over, she had really managed to +hurt him, and had made him think her gossipy into the bargain. +</P> + +<P> +She went on with her sewing. But when Mahony came back from the brisk +walk by means of which he got rid of his annoyance, he fancied, though +Polly was as cheery as ever and had supper laid for him, that her +eyelids were red. +</P> + +<P> +This was why, the following evening, he promised himself to be discreet. +</P> + +<P> +Winter had come in earnest; the night was wild and cold. Before the +crackling stove the cat lay stretched at full length, while Pompey +dozed fitfully, his nose between his paws. The red-cotton curtains that +hung at the little window gave back the lamplight in a ruddy glow; the +clock beat off the seconds evenly, except when drowned by the wind, +which came in bouts, hurling itself against the corners of the house. +And presently, laying down his book—Polly was too busy now to be read +to—Mahony looked across at his wife. She was wrinkling her pretty +brows over the manufacture of tiny clothes, a rather pale little woman +still, none of the initial discomforts of her condition having been +spared her. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up and smiled: did ever +anyone see such a ridiculous armhole? Three of one's fingers were +enough to fill it—and she held the little shirt aloft for his +inspection. Here was his chance: the child's coming offered the best of +pretexts. Taking not only the midget garment but also the hand that +held it, he told her of his resolve to go back to England and re-enter +his profession. +</P> + +<P> +"You know, love, I've always wished to get home again. And now there's +an additional reason. I don't want my ... our children to grow up in a +place like this. Without companions—or refining influences. Who knows +how they would turn out?" +</P> + +<P> +He said it, but in his heart he knew that his children would be safe +enough. And Polly, listening to him, made the same reservation: yes, +but OUR children.... +</P> + +<P> +"And so I propose, as soon as the youngster's old enough to travel, to +haul down the flag for good and all, and book passages for the three of +us in some smart clipper. We'll live in the country, love. Think of it, +Polly! A little gabled, red-roofed house at the foot of some Sussex +down, with fruit trees and a high hedge round it, and only the +oast-houses peeping over. Doesn't it make your mouth water, my dear?" +</P> + +<P> +He had risen in his eagerness, and stood with his back to the stove, +his legs apart. And Polly nodded and smiled up at him—though, truth to +tell, the picture he drew did not mean much to her: she had never been +in Sussex, nor did she know what an oast-house was. A night such as +this, with flying clouds and a shrill, piping wind, made her think of +angry seas and a dark ship's cabin, in which she lay deathly sick. But +it was not Polly's way to dwell on disagreeables: her mind glanced off +to a pleasanter theme. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you ever thought, Richard, how strange it will seem when there +ARE three of us? You and I will never be quite alone together again. +Oh, I do hope he will be a good baby and not cry much. It will worry +you if he does—like Hempel's cough. And then you won't love him +properly." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall love it because it is yours, my darling. And the baby of such +a dear little mother is sure to be good." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, babies will be babies, you know!" said Polly, with a new air of +wisdom which sat delightfully on her. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony pinched her cheek. "Mrs. Mahony, you're shirking my question. +Tell me now, should you not be pleased to get back to England?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll go wherever you go, Richard," said Polly staunchly. "Always. And +of course I should like to see mother—I mean my real mother—again. +But then Ned's here ... and John, and Sarah. I should be very sorry to +leave them. I don't think any of them will ever go home now." +</P> + +<P> +"They may be here, but they don't trouble YOU often, my dear," said +Mahony, with more than a hint of impatience. "Especially Ned the +well-beloved, who lives not a mile from your door." +</P> + +<P> +"I know he doesn't often come to see us, Richard. But he's only a boy; +and has to work so hard. You see it's like this. If Ned should get into +any trouble, I'm here to look after him; and I know that makes mother's +mind easier—Ned was always her favourite." +</P> + +<P> +"And an extraordinary thing, too! I believe it's the boy's good looks +that blind you women to his faults." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, indeed it isn't!" declared Polly warmly. "It's just because +Ned's Ned. The dearest fellow, if you really know him." +</P> + +<P> +"And so your heart's anchored here, little wife, and would remain here +even if I carried your body off to England?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, Richard," said Polly again. "My heart would always be where you +are. But I can't help wondering how Ned would get on alone. And Jerry +will soon be here too, now, and he's younger still. And HOW I should +like to see dear Tilly settled before I go!" +</P> + +<P> +Judging that enough had been said for the time being, Mahony re-opened +his book, leaving his wife to chew the cud of innocent matchmaking and +sisterly cares. +</P> + +<P> +In reality Polly's reflections were of quite another nature. +</P> + +<P> +Her husband's abrupt resolve to leave the colony, disturbing though it +was, did not take her altogether by surprise. She would have needed to +be both deaf and blind not to notice that the store-bell rang much +seldomer than it used to, and that Richard had more spare time on his +hands. Yes, trade was dull, and that made him fidgety. Now she had +always known that someday it would be her duty to follow Richard to +England. But she had imagined that day to be very far off—when they +were elderly people, and had saved up a good deal of money. To hear the +date fixed for six months hence was something of a shock to her. And it +was at this point that Polly had a sudden inspiration. As she listened +to Richard talking of resuming his profession, the thought flashed +through her mind: why not here? Why should he not start practice in +Ballarat, instead of travelling all those thousands of miles to do it? +</P> + +<P> +This was what she ruminated while she tucked and hemmed. She could +imagine, of course, what his answer would be. He would say there were +too many doctors on Ballarat already; not more than a dozen of them +made satisfactory incomes. But this argument did not convince Polly. +Richard wasn't, perhaps, a great success at storekeeping; but that was +only because he was too good for it. As a doctor, he with his +cleverness and gentlemanly manners would soon, she was certain, stand +head and shoulders above the rest. And then there would be money +galore. It was true he did not care for Ballarat—was down on both +place and people. But this objection, too, Polly waived. It passed +belief that anybody could really dislike this big, rich, bustling, +go-ahead township, where such handsome buildings were springing up and +every one was so friendly. In her heart she ascribed her husband's want +of love for it to the "infra dig" position he occupied. If he mixed +with his equals again and got rid of the feeling that he was looked +down on, it would make all the difference in the world to him. He would +then be out of reach of snubs and slights, and people would understand +him better—not the residents on Ballarat alone, but also John, and +Sarah, and the Beamishes, none of whom really appreciated Richard. In +her mind's eye Polly had a vision of him going his rounds mounted on a +chestnut horse, dressed in surtout and choker, and hand and glove with +the bigwigs of society—the gentlemen at the Camp, the Police +Magistrate and Archdeacon Long, the rich squatters who lived at the +foot of Mount Buninyong. It brought the colour to her cheeks merely to +think of it. +</P> + +<P> +She did not, however, breathe a word of this to Richard. She was a +shade wiser than the night before, when she had vexed him by blurting +out her thoughts. And the present was not the right time to speak. In +these days Richard was under the impression that she needed to be +humoured. He might agree with her against his better judgment, or, +worse still, pretend to agree. And Polly didn't want that. She wished +fairly to persuade him that, by setting up here on the diggings where +he was known and respected, he would get on quicker, and make more +money, than if he buried himself in some poky English village where no +one had ever heard of him. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile the unconscious centre of her ambitions wore a perplexed +frown. Mahony was much exercised just now over the question of medical +attendance for Polly. The thought of coming into personal contact with +a member of the fraternity was distasteful to him; none of them had an +inkling who or what he was. And, though piqued by their +unsuspectingness, he at the same time feared lest it should not be +absolute, and he have the ill-luck to hit on a practitioner who had +heard of his stray spurts of doctoring and written him down a charlatan +and a quack. For this reason he would call in no one in the immediate +neighbourhood—even the western township seemed too near. Ultimately, +his choice fell on a man named Rogers who hailed from Mount Pleasant, +the rise on the opposite side of the valley and some two miles off. It +was true since he did not intend to disclose his own standing, the +distance would make the fellow's fees mount up. But Rogers was at least +properly qualified (half those claiming the title of physician were +impudent impostors, who didn't know a diploma from the Ten +Commandments), of the same ALMA MATER as himself—not a contemporary, +though, he took good care of that!—and, if report spoke true, a +skilful and careful obstetrician. +</P> + +<P> +When, however, in response to a note carried by Long Jim Rogers drew +rein in front of the store, Mahony was not greatly impressed by him. He +proved to be a stout, reddish man, some ten years Mahony's senior, with +a hasty-pudding face and an undecided manner. There he sat, his ten +spread finger-tips meeting and gently tapping one another across his +paunch, and nodding: "Just so, just so!" to all he heard. He had the +trick of saying everything twice over. "Needs to clinch his own +opinion!" was Mahony's swift diagnosis. Himself, he kept in the +background. And was he forced to come forward his manner was both stiff +and forbidding, so on tenterhooks was he lest the other should presume +to treat him as anything but the storekeeper he gave himself out to be. +</P> + +<P> +A day or so later who but the wife must arrive to visit Polly!—a piece +of gratuitous friendliness that could well have been dispensed with; +even though Mahony felt it keenly that, at this juncture, Polly should +lack companions of her own sex. But Rogers had married beneath him, and +the sight of the pursy upstart—there were people on the Flat who +remembered her running barefoot and slatternly—sitting there, in satin +and feathers, lording it over his own little Jenny Wren, was more than +Mahony could tolerate. The distance was put forward as an excuse for +Polly not returning the call, and Polly was docile as usual; though for +her part she had thought her visitor quite a pleasant, kindly woman. +But then Polly never knew when she was being patronised! +</P> + +<P> +To wipe out any little trace of disappointment, her husband suggested +that she should write and ask one of the Beamish girls to stay with +her: it would keep her from feeling the days long. +</P> + +<P> +But Polly only laughed. "Long?—when I have so much sewing to do?" +</P> + +<P> +No, she did not want company. By now, indeed, she regretted having sent +off that impulsive invitation to Mrs. Beamish for the end of the year. +Puzzle as she would, she could not see how she was going to put +"mother" comfortably up. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile the rains were changing the familiar aspect of the place. +Creeks—in summer dry gutters of baked clay—were now rich red rivers; +and the yellow Yarrowee ran full to the brim, keeping those who lived +hard by it in a twitter of anxiety. The steep slopes of Black Hill +showed thinly green; the roads were ploughed troughs of sticky mire. +Occasional night frosts whitened the ground, bringing cloudless days in +their wake. Then down came the rain once more, and fell for a week on +end. The diggers were washed out of their holes, the Flat became an +untraversable bog. And now there were floods in earnest: the creeks +turned to foaming torrents that swept away trees and the old roots of +trees; and the dwellers on the river banks had to fly for their bare +lives. +</P> + +<P> +Over the top of book or newspaper Mahony watched his wife stitch, +stitch, stitch, with a zeal that never flagged, at the dolly garments. +Just as he could read his way, so Polly sewed hers, through the time of +waiting. But whereas she, like a sensible little woman, pinned her +thoughts fast to the matter in hand, he let his range freely over the +future. Of the many good things this had in store for him, one in +particular whetted his impatience. It took close on a twelvemonth out +here to get hold of a new book. On Ballarat not even a stationer's +existed; nor were there more than a couple of shops in Melbourne itself +that could be relied on to carry out your order. You perforce fell +behind in the race, remained ignorant of what was being said and +done—in science, letters, religious controversy—in the great world +overseas. To this day he didn't know whether Agassiz had or had not +been appointed to the chair of Natural History in Edinburgh; or whether +fresh heresies with regard to the creation of species had spoiled his +chances; did not know whether Hugh Miller had actually gone crazy over +the VESTIGES; or even if those arch-combatants, Syme and Simpson, had +at length sheathed their swords. Now, however, God willing, he would +before very long be back in the thick of it all, in intimate touch with +the doings of the most wide-awake city in Europe; and new books and +pamphlets would come into his possession as they dropped hot from the +press. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0205"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter V +</H3> + +<P> +And then one morning—it was spring now, and piping hot at noon—Long +Jim brought home from the post-office a letter for Polly, addressed in +her sister Sarah's sloping hand. Knowing the pleasure it would give +her, Mahony carried it at once to his wife; and Polly laid aside broom +and duster and sat down to read. +</P> + +<P> +But he was hardly out of the room when a startled cry drew him back to +her side. Polly had hidden her face, and was shaken by sobs As he could +not get her to speak, Mahony picked up the letter from the floor and +read it for himself. +</P> + +<P> +Sarah wrote like one distracted. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +OH, MY DEAR SISTER, HOW CAN I FIND WORDS TO TELL YOU OF THE TRULY +"AWFUL" CALAMITY THAT HAS BEFALLEN OUR UNHAPPY BROTHER. Mahony skipped +the phrases, and learnt that owing to a carriage accident Emma Turnham +had been prematurely confined, and, the best medical aid +notwithstanding—JOHN SPARED ABSOLUTELY "NO" EXPENSE—had died two days +later. JOHN IS LIKE A MADMAN. DIRECTLY I HEARD THE "SHOCKING" NEWS, I +AT ONCE THREW UP MY ENGAGEMENT—AT "SERIOUS" LOSS TO MYSELF, BUT THAT +IS A MATTER OF SMALL CONSEQUENCE—AND CAME TO TAKE MY PLACE BESIDE OUR +POOR DEAR BROTHER IN HIS GREAT TRIAL. BUT ALL MY EFFORTS TO BRING HIM +TO A PROPER AND "CHRISTIAN" FRAME OF MIND HAVE BEEN FRUITLESS. I AM +INDEED ALARMED TO BE ALONE WITH HIM, AND I TREMBLE FOR THE CHILDREN, +FOR HE IS POSSESSED OF AN "INSANE" HATRED FOR THE SWEET LITTLE LOVES. +HE HAS LOCKED HIMSELF IN HIS ROOM, WILL SEE "NO ONE" NOR TOUCH A +"PARTICLE" OF NOURISHMENT. DO, MY DEAREST POLLY, COME AT ONCE ON +RECEIPT OF THIS, AND HELP ME IN THE "TRULY AWFUL" TASK THAT HAS BEEN +LAID UPON ME. AND PRAY FORGIVE ME FOR USING THIS PLAIN PAPER. I HAVE +HAD LITERALLY NO TIME TO ORDER MOURNING "OF ANY KIND." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +So that was Sarah! With a click of the tongue Mahony tossed the letter +on the table, and made it clear to Polly that under no consideration +would he allow her to attempt the journey to town. Her relatives seemed +utterly to have forgotten her condition; if, indeed., they had ever +grasped the fact that she was expecting a child. +</P> + +<P> +But Polly did not heed him. "Oh, poor, poor Emma! Oh, poor dear John!" +Her husband could only soothe her by promising to go to Sarah's +assistance himself, the following day. +</P> + +<P> +They had been entirely in the dark about things. For John Turnham +thought proper to erect a jealous wall about his family life. What went +on behind it was nobody's business but his own. You felt yourself—were +meant to feel yourself—the alien, the outsider. And Mahony marvelled +once more at the wealth of love and sympathy his little Polly had kept +fresh for these two, who had wasted so few of their thoughts on her. +</P> + +<P> +Polly dried her eyes; he packed his carpet-bag. He did this with a good +deal of pother, pulling open the wrong drawers, tumbling up their +contents and generally making havoc of his wife's arrangements. But the +sight of his clumsiness acted as a kind of tonic on Polly: she liked to +feel that he was dependent on her for his material comfort and +well-being. +</P> + +<P> +They spoke of John's brief married life. +</P> + +<P> +"He loved her like a pagan, my dear," said Mahony. "And if what your +sister Sarah writes is not exaggerated, he is bearing his punishment in +a truly pagan way." +</P> + +<P> +"But you won't say that to him, dear Richard ... will you? You'll be +very gentle with him?" pleaded Polly anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed I shall, little woman. But one can't help thinking these +things, all the same. You know it is written: 'Thou shalt have none +other gods but Me.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know. But then this was JUST Emma ... and she was so pretty and +so good"—and Polly cried anew. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony rose before dawn to catch the coach. Together with a packet of +sandwiches, Polly brought him a small black mantle. +</P> + +<P> +"For Sarah, with my dear love. You see, Richard, I know she always +wears coloured dresses. And she will feel so much happier if she has +SOMETHING black to put on." Little Polly's voice was deep with +persuasion. Richard was none too well pleased, she could see, at having +to unlock his bag again; she feared too, that, after the letter of the +day before, his opinion of Sarah had gone down to zero. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony secured a corner seat; and so, though his knees interlocked with +those of his VIS-A-VIS, only one of the eight inside passengers was +jammed against him. The coach started; and the long, dull hours of the +journey began to wear away. Nothing broke the monotony but speculations +whether the driver—a noted tippler—would be drunk before Melbourne +was reached and capsize them; and the drawling voice of a Yankee +prospector, who told lying tales about his exploits in California in +'48 until, having talked his hearers to sleep, he dropped off himself. +Then, Mahony fell to reflecting on what lay before him. He didn't like +the job. He was not one of your born good Samaritans: he relished +intruding as little as being intruded on. Besides, morally to sustain, +to forbear with, a fellow-creature in misfortune, seemed to him as +difficult and thankless a task as any required of one. Infinite tact +was essential, and a skin thick enough to stand snubs and rebuffs. But +here he smiled. "Or my little wife's inability to recognise them!" +</P> + +<P> +House and garden had lost their air of well-groomed smartness: the gate +stood ajar, the gravel was unraked, the verandah-flooring black with +footmarks. With all the blinds still down, the windows looked like so +many dead eyes. Mahony's first knock brought no response; at his +second, the door was opened by Sarah Turnham herself. But a very +different Sarah this, from the elegant and sprightly young person who +had graced his wedding. Her chignon was loose, her dress dishevelled. +On recognising Mahony, she uttered a cry and fell on his neck—he had +to disengage her arms by force and speak severely to her, declaring +that he would go away again, if she carried out her intention of +swooning. +</P> + +<P> +At last he got her round so far that she could tell her tale, which she +did with a hysterical overstatement. She had, it seemed, arrived there +just before her sister-in-law died. John was quarrelling furiously with +all three doctors, and, before the end, insulted the only one who was +left in such a fashion that he, too, marched out of the house. They had +to get the dead woman measured, coffined and taken away by stealth. +Whereupon John had locked himself up in his room, and had not been seen +since. He had a loaded revolver with him; through the closed door he +had threatened to shoot both her and the children. The servants had +deserted, panic-stricken at their master's behaviour, at the sudden +collapse of the well-regulated household: the last, a nurse-girl sent +out on an errand some hours previously, had not returned. Sarah was at +her wits' end to know what to do with the children—he might hear them +screaming at this moment. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony, in no hesitancy now how to deal with the situation, laid his +hat aside and drew off his gloves. "Prepare some food," he said +briefly. "A glass of port and a sandwich or two, if you can manage +nothing else—but meat of some kind." +</P> + +<P> +But there was not a morsel of meat in the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Then go to the butcher's and buy some." +</P> + +<P> +Sarah gasped, and bridled. She had never in her life been inside a +butcher's shop! +</P> + +<P> +"Good God, woman, then the sooner you make the beginning the better!" +cried Mahony. And as he strode down the passage to the door she +indicated, he added: "Now control yourself, madam! And if you have not +got what I want in a quarter of an hour's time, I'll walk out of the +house and leave you to your own devices!" At which Sarah, cowed and +shaken, began tremblingly to tie her bonnet-strings. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony knocked three times at the door of John Turnham's room, each +time more loudly. Then he took to battering with his fist on the +panels, and cried: "It is I, John, your brother-in-law! Have the +goodness to unlock this door at once!" +</P> + +<P> +There was still an instant of suspense; then heavy footsteps crossed +the floor and the door swung back. Mahony's eyes met a haggard white +face set in a dusky background. +</P> + +<P> +"You!" said John in a slow, dazed way, and blinked at the light. But in +the next breath he burst out: "Where's that damned fool of a woman? Is +she skulking behind you? I won't see her—won't have her near me!" +</P> + +<P> +"If you mean your sister Sarah, she is not in the house at present," +said Mahony; and stepping over the threshold he shut the door. The two +men faced each other in the twilight. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want?" demanded John in a hoarse voice. "Have you, too, +come to preach and sermonise? If so, you can go back where you came +from! I'll have none of that cant here." +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, I leave that to those whose business it is. I'm here as your +doctor"; and Mahony drew up a blind and opened a window. Instantly the +level sun-rays flooded the room; and the air that came in with them +smacked of the sea. Just outside the window a quince-tree in full +blossom reared extravagant masses of pink snow against the blue +overhead; beyond it a covered walk of vines shone golden-green. There +was not a cloud in the sky. To turn back to the musty room from all +this lush and lovely life was like stepping down into a vault. +</P> + +<P> +John had sunk into a seat before a secretaire, and shielded his eyes +from the sun. A burnt-out candle stood at his elbow; and in a line +before him were ranged such images as remained to him of his dead—a +dozen or more daguerrotypes, of various sizes: Emma and he before +marriage and after marriage; Emma with her first babe, at different +stages of its growth; Emma with the two children; Emma in ball-attire; +with a hat on; holding a book. +</P> + +<P> +The sight gave the quietus to Mahony's scruples. Stooping, he laid his +hand on John's shoulder. "My poor fellow," he said gently. "Your sister +was not in a fit state to travel, so I have come in her place to tell +you how deeply, how truly, we feel for you in your loss. I want to try, +too, to help you to bear it. For it has to be borne, John." +</P> + +<P> +At this the torrent burst. Leaping to his feet John began to fling +wildly to and fro; and then, for a time, the noise of his lamentations +filled the room. Mahony had assisted at scenes of this kind before, but +never had he heard the like of the blasphemies that poured over John's +lips. (Afterwards, when he had recovered his distance, he would refer +to it as the occasion on which John took the Almighty to task, for +having dared to interfere in his private life.) +</P> + +<P> +At the moment he sat silent. "Better for him to get it out," he thought +to himself, even while he winced at John's scurrility. +</P> + +<P> +When, through sheer exhaustion, John came to a stop, Mahony cast about +for words of consolation. All reference to the mystery of God's way was +precluded; and he shrank from entering that sound plea for the working +of Time, which drives a spike into the heart of the new-made mourner. +He bethought himself of the children. "Remember, she did not leave you +comfortless. You have your little ones. Think of them." +</P> + +<P> +But this was a false move. Like a belated thunderclap after the storm +is over, John broke out again, his haggard eyes aflame. "Curse the +children!" he cried thickly. "Curse them, I say! If I had once caught +sight of them since she ... she went, I should have wrung their necks. +I never wanted children. They came between us. They took her from me. +It was a child that killed her. Now, she is gone and they are left. +Keep them out of my way, Mahony! Don't let them near me.—Oh, Emma... +wife!" and here his shoulders heaved, under dry, harsh sobs. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony felt his own eyes grow moist. "Listen to me, John. I promise +you, you shall not see your children again until you wish to—till +you're glad to recall them, as a living gift from her you have lost. +I'll look after them for you." +</P> + +<P> +"You will? ... God bless you, Mahony!" +</P> + +<P> +Judging the moment ripe, Mahony rose and went out to fetch the tray on +which Sarah had set the eatables. The meat was but a chop, charred on +one side, raw on the other; but John did not notice its shortcomings. +He fell on it like the starving man he was, and gulped down two or +three glasses of port. The colour returned to his face, he was able to +give an account of his wife's last hours. "And to talk is what he +needs, even if he goes on till morning." Mahony was quick to see that +there were things that rankled in John's memory, like festers in flesh. +One was that, knowing the greys were tricky, he had not forbidden them +to Emma long ago. But he had felt proud of her skill in handling the +reins, of the attention she attracted. Far from thwarting her, he had +actually urged her on. Her fall had been a light one, and at the outset +no bad results were anticipated: a slight haemorrhage was soon got +under control. A week later, however, it began anew, more violently, +and then all remedies were in vain. As it became clear that the child +was dead, the doctors had recourse to serious measures. But the +bleeding went on. She complained of a roaring in her ears, her +extremities grew cold, her pulse fluttered to nothing. She passed from +syncope to coma, and from coma to death. John swore that two of the +doctors had been the worse for drink; the third was one of those +ignorant impostors with whom the place swarmed. And again he made +himself reproaches. +</P> + +<P> +"I ought to have gone to look for someone else. But she was dying ... I +could not tear myself away.—Mahony, I can still see her. They had +stretched her across the bed, so that her head hung over the side. Her +hair swept the floor—one scoundrel trod on it ... trod on her hair! +And I had to stand by and watch, while they butchered her—butchered my +girl.—Oh, there are things, Mahony, one cannot dwell on and live!" +</P> + +<P> +"You must not look at it like that. Yet, when I recall some of the +cases I've seen contraction induced in ..." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah yes, if you had been here ... my God, if only you had been here!" +</P> + +<P> +But Mahony did not encourage this idea; it was his duty to unhitch +John's thoughts from the past. He now suggested that, the children and +Sarah safe in his keeping, John should shut up the house and go away. +To his surprise John jumped at the proposal, was ready there and then +to put it into effect. Yes, said he, he would start the very next +morning, and with no more than a blanket on his back, would wander a +hundred odd miles into the bush, sleeping out under the stars at night, +and day by day increasing the distance between himself and the scene of +his loss. And now up he sprang, in a sudden fury to be gone. Warning +Sarah into the background, Mahony helped him get together a few +necessaries, and then walked him to a hotel. Here he left him sleeping +under the influence of a drug, and next day saw him off on his tramp +northwards, over the Great Divide. +</P> + +<P> +John's farewell words were: "Take the keys of the house with you, and +don't give them up to me under a month, at least." +</P> + +<P> +That day's coach was full; they had to wait for seats till the +following afternoon. The delay was not unwelcome to Mahony; it gave +Polly time to get the letter he had written her the night before. After +leaving John, he set about raising money for the extra fares and other +unforeseen expenses: at the eleventh hour, Sarah informed him that +their young brother Jerry had landed in Melbourne during Emma's +illness, and had been hastily boarded out. Knowing no one else in the +city, Mahony was forced, much as it went against the grain, to turn to +Henry Ocock for assistance. And he was effusively received—Ocock tried +to press double the sum needed on him. Fortune was no doubt smiling on +the lawyer. His offices had swelled to four rooms, with appropriate +clerks in each. He still, however, nursed the scheme of transferring +his business to Ballarat. +</P> + +<P> +"As soon, that is, as I can hear of suitable premises. I understand +there's only one locality to be considered, and that's the western +township." On which Mahony, whose address was in the outer darkness, +repeated his thanks and withdrew. +</P> + +<P> +He found Jerry's lodging, paid the bill, and took the boy back to St. +Kilda—a shy slip of a lad in his early teens, with the colouring and +complexion that ran in the family. John's coachman, who had shown +himself not indisposed—for a substantial sum, paid in advance—to keep +watch over house and grounds, was installed in an outbuilding, and next +day at noon, after personally aiding Sarah, who was all a-tremble at +the prospect of the bush journey, to pack her own and the children's +clothes, Mahony turned the key in the door of the darkened house. But a +couple of weeks ago it had been a proud and happy home. Now it had no +more virtue left in it than a crab's empty shell. +</P> + +<P> +He had fumed on first learning of Jerry's superfluous presence; but +before they had gone far he saw that he would have fared ill indeed, +had Jerry not been there. Sarah, too agitated that morning to touch a +bite of food, was seized, not an hour out, with sickness and fainting. +There she sat, her eyes closed, her salts to her nose or feebly sipping +brandy, unable to lift a finger to help with the children. The younger +of the two slept most of the way hotly and heavily on Mahony's knee; +but the boy, a regular pest, was never for a moment still. In vain did +his youthful uncle pinch his leg each time he wriggled to the floor. It +was not till a fierce-looking digger opposite took out a jack-knife and +threatened to saw off both his feet if he stirred again, to cut out his +tongue if he put another question that, scarlet with fear, little +Johnny was tamed. Altogether it was a nightmare of a journey, and +Mahony groaned with relief when, lamps having for some time twinkled +past, the coach drew up, and Hempel and Long Jim stepped forward with +their lanterns. Sarah could hardly stand. The children, wrathful at +being wakened from their sleep, kicked and screamed. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0206"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VI +</H3> + +<P> +For the first time in her young married life, Polly felt vexed with her +husband. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, he shouldn't have done that... no, really he shouldn't!" she +murmured; and the hand with the letter in it drooped to her lap. +</P> + +<P> +She had been doing a little surreptitious baking in Richard's absence, +and without a doubt was hot and tired. The tears rose to her eyes. +Deserting her pastry-board she retreated behind the woodstack and sat +down on the chopping-block; and then, for some minutes, the sky was +blotted out. She felt quite unequal, in her present condition, to +facing Sarah, who was so sensitive, so easily shocked; and she was +deeply averse from her fine-lady sister discovering the straitness of +Richard's means and home. +</P> + +<P> +But it was hard for Polly to secure a moment's privacy. +</P> + +<P> +"An' so this is w'ere you're 'idin', is it?" said Long Jim +snappishly—he had been opening a keg of treacle and held a sticky plug +in his hand. "An' me runnin' my pore ol' legs off arter you!" And +Hempel met her on her entry with: "No further bad news, I 'ope and +trust, ma'am?"—Hempel always retained his smooth servility of manner. +"The shopman PAR EXCELLENCE, my dear!" Richard was used to say of him. +</P> + +<P> +Polly reassured her attendants, blew her nose, re-read her letter; and +other feelings came uppermost. She noticed how scribbly the writing +was—Richard had evidently been hard pushed for time. There was an +apologetic tone about it, too, which was unlike him. He was probably +wondering what she would say; he might even be making himself +reproaches. It was unkind of her to add to them. Let her think rather +of the sad state poor John had been found in, and of his two motherless +babes. As for Sarah, it would never have done to leave her out. +</P> + +<P> +Wiping her eyes Polly untied her cooking-apron and set to reviewing her +resources. Sarah would have to share her bed, Richard to sleep on the +sofa. The children ... and here she knitted her brows. Then going into +the yard, she called to Tom Ocock, who sat whittling a stick in front +of his father's house; and Tom went down to Main Street for her, and +bought a mattress which he carried home on his shoulder. This she +spread on the bedroom floor, Mrs. Hemmerde having already given both +rooms a sound scouring, just in case a flea or a spider should be lying +perdu. After which Polly fell to baking again in good earnest; for the +travellers would be famished by the time they arrived. +</P> + +<P> +Towards ten o'clock Tom, who was on the look-out, shouted that the +coach was in, and Polly, her table spread, a good fire going, stepped +to the door, outwardly very brave, inwardly all a-flutter. Directly, +however, she got sight of the forlorn party that toiled up the slope: +Sarah clinging to Hempel's arm, Mahony bearing one heavy child, +and—could she believe her eyes?—Jerry staggering under the other: her +bashfulness was gone. She ran forward to prop poor Sarah on her free +side, to guide her feet to the door; and it is doubtful whether little +Polly had ever spent a more satisfying hour than that which followed. +</P> + +<P> +Her husband, watching her in silent amaze, believed she thoroughly +enjoyed the fuss and commotion. +</P> + +<P> +There was Sarah, too sick to see anything but the bed, to undress, to +make fomentations for, to coax to mouthfuls of tea and toast. There was +Jerry to feed and send off, with the warmest of hugs, to share Tom +Ocock's palliasse. There were the children ... well, Polly's first plan +had been to put them straight to bed. But when she came to peel off +their little trousers she changed her mind. +</P> + +<P> +"I think, Mrs. Hemmerde, if you'll get me a tub of hot water, we'll +just pop them into it; they'll sleep so much better," she said ... not +quite truthfully. Her private reflection was: "I don't think Sarah can +once have washed them properly, all that time." +</P> + +<P> +The little girl let herself be bathed in her sleep; but young John +stood and bawled, digging fat fists into slits of eyes, while Polly +scrubbed at his massy knees, the dimpled ups and downs of which looked +as if they had been worked in by hand. She had never seen her brother's +children before and was as heartily lost in admiration of their plump, +well-formed bodies, as her helper of the costliness of their outfit. +</P> + +<P> +"Real Injun muslin, as I'm alive!" ejaculated the woman, on fishing out +their night-clothes. "An' wid the sassiest lace for trimmin'!—Och, the +poor little motherless angels!—Stan' quiet, you young divil you, an' +lemme button you up!" +</P> + +<P> +Clean as lily-bells, the pair were laid on the mattress-bed. +</P> + +<P> +"At least they can't fall out," said Polly, surveying her work with a +sigh of content. +</P> + +<P> +Every one else having retired, she sat with Richard before the fire, +waiting for his bath-water to reach the boil. He was anxious to know +just how she had fared in his absence, she to hear the full story of +his mission. He confessed to her that his offer to load himself up with +the whole party had been made in a momentary burst of feeling. +Afterwards he had repented his impulsiveness. +</P> + +<P> +"On your account, love. Though when I see how well you've managed—you +dear, clever little woman!" +</P> + +<P> +And Polly consoled him, being now come honestly to the stage of: "But, +Richard, what else could you do?" +</P> + +<P> +"What, indeed! I knew Emma had no relatives in Melbourne, and who +John's intimates might be I had no more idea than the man in the moon." +</P> + +<P> +"John hasn't any friends. He never had." +</P> + +<P> +"As for leaving the children in Sarah's charge, if you'll allow me to +say so, my dear, I consider your sister Sarah the biggest goose of a +female it has ever been my lot to run across." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but you don't really know Sarah yet," said Polly, and smiled a +little, through the tears that had ripen to her eyes at the tale of +John's despair. +</P> + +<P> +What Mahony did not mention to her was the necessity he had been under +of borrowing money; though Polly was aware he had left home with but a +modest sum in his purse. He wished to spare her feelings. Polly had a +curious delicacy—he might almost call it a manly delicacy—with regard +to money; and the fact that John had not offered to put hand to pocket; +let alone liberally flung a blank cheque at his head, would, Mahony +knew, touch his wife on a tender spot. Nor did Polly herself ask +questions. Richard made no allusion to John having volunteered to bear +expenses, so the latter had evidently not done so. What a pity! Richard +was so particular himself, in matters of this kind, that he might write +her brother down close and stingy. Of course John's distressed state of +mind partly served to excuse him. But she could not imagine the +calamity that would cause Richard to forget his obligations. +</P> + +<P> +She slid her hand into her husband's and they sat for a while in +silence. Then, half to herself, and out of a very different train of +thought she said: "Just fancy them never crying once for their mother." +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +"Talking of friends," said Sarah, and fastidiously cleared her throat. +"Talking of friends, I wonder now what has become of one of those young +gentlemen I met at your wedding. He was ... let me see ... why, I +declare if I haven't forgotten his name!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I know who you mean—besides there was only one, Sarah," Mahony +heard his wife reply, and therewith fall into her sister's trap. "You +mean Purdy—Purdy Smith—who was Richard's best man." +</P> + +<P> +"Smith?" echoed Sarah. "La, Polly! Why don't he make it Smythe?" +</P> + +<P> +It was a warm evening some three weeks later. The store was closed to +customers; but Mahony had ensconced himself in a corner of it with a +book: since the invasion, this was the one place in which he could make +sure of finding quiet. The sisters sat on the log-bench before the +house; and, without seeing them, Mahony knew to a nicety how they were +employed. Polly darned stockings, for John's children; Sarah was +tatting, with her little finger stuck out at right angles to the rest. +Mahony could hardly think of this finger without irritation: it seemed +to sum up Sarah's whole outlook on life. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile Polly's fresh voice went on, relating Purdy's fortunes. "He +took part, you know, in the dreadful affair on the Eureka last +Christmas, when so many poor men were killed. We can speak of it, now +they've all been pardoned; but then we had to be very careful. Well, he +was shot in the ankle, and will always be lame from it." +</P> + +<P> +"What!—go hobbling on one leg for the remainder of his days? Oh, my +dear!" said Sarah, and laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, because the wound wasn't properly attended to—he had to hide +about in the bush, for ever so long. Later on he went to the Beamishes, +to be nursed. But by that time his poor leg was in a very bad state. +You know he is engaged—or very nearly so—to Tilly Beamish." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said Sarah once more. "That handsome young fellow engaged to +one of those vulgar creatures?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Sarah ... not really vulgar. It isn't their fault they didn't have +a better education. They lived right up-country, where there were no +schools. Tilly never saw a town till she was sixteen; but she can sit +any horse.—Yes, we hope very much Purdy will soon settle down and +marry her—though he left the Hotel again without proposing." And Polly +sighed. +</P> + +<P> +"There he shows his good taste, my dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm sure he's fond of Tilly. It's only that his life is so +unsettled. He's been a barman at Euroa since then; and the last we +heard of him, he was shearing somewhere on the Goulburn. He doesn't +seem able to stick to anything." +</P> + +<P> +"And a rolling stone gathers no moss!" gave back Sarah +sententiously—and in fancy Mahony saw the cut-and-dried nod with which +she accompanied the words. +</P> + +<P> +Here Hempel passed through the store, clad in his Sunday best, his hair +plastered flat with bear's-grease. +</P> + +<P> +"Going out for a stroll?" asked his master. +</P> + +<P> +"That was my h'intention, sir. I don't think you'll find I've left any +of my dooties undone." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, go, by all means!" said Mahony curtly, nettled at having his +harmless query misconstrued. It pointed a suspicion he had had, of +late, that a change was coming over Hempel. The model employee was a +shade less prompt than heretofore to fly at his word, and once or twice +seemed actually to be studying his own convenience. Without knowing +what the matter was, Mahony felt it politic not to be +over-exacting—even mildly to conciliate his assistant. It would put +him in an awkward fix, now that he was on the verge of winding up +affairs, should Hempel take it in his head to leave him in the lurch. +</P> + +<P> +The lean figure moved on and blocked the doorway. Now there was a +sudden babble of cheepy voices, and simultaneously Sarah cried: "Where +have you been, my little cherubs? Come to your aunt, and let her kiss +you!" +</P> + +<P> +But the children, who had frankly no great liking for Aunt Sarah, +would, Mahony knew, turn a deaf ear to this display of opportunism and +make a rush for his wife. Laying down his book he ran out. "Polly ... +cautious!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's all right, Richard, I'm being careful." Polly had let her mending +fall, and with each hand held a flaxen-haired child at arm's length. +"Johnny, dirty boy! what HAVE you been up to?" +</P> + +<P> +"He played he was a digger and sat down in a pool—I couldn't get him +to budge," answered Jerry, and drew his sleeve over his perspiring +forehead. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh fy, for shame!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don' care!" said John, unabashed. +</P> + +<P> +"Don' tare!" echoed his roly-poly sister, who existed but as his shadow. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't-care was made to care, don't-care was hung!" quoted Aunt Sarah +in her severest copybook tones. +</P> + +<P> +Turning his head in his aunt's direction young John thrust forth a +bright pink tongue. Little Emma was not behindhand. +</P> + +<P> +Polly jumped up, dropping her work to the ground. "Johnny, I shall +punish you if ever I see you do that again. Now, Ellen shall put you to +bed instead of Auntie."—Ellen was Mrs. Hemmerde's eldest, and Polly's +first regular maidservant. +</P> + +<P> +"Don' care," repeated Johnny. "Ellen plays pillers." +</P> + +<P> +"Edn pays pidders," said the echo. +</P> + +<P> +Seizing two hot, pudgy hands Polly dragged the pair indoors—though +they held back mainly on principle. They were not affectionate +children; they were too strong of will and set of purpose for that; but +if they had a fondness for anyone it was for their Aunt Polly: she was +ruler over a drawerful of sugar-sticks, and though she scolded she +never slapped. +</P> + +<P> +While this was going on Hempel stood, the picture of indecision, and +eased now one foot, now the other, as if his boots pinched him. +</P> + +<P> +At length he blurted out: "I was wondering, ma'am—ahem! Miss +Turnham—if, since it is an agreeable h'evening, you would care to take +a walk to that 'ill I told you of?" +</P> + +<P> +"Me take a walk? La, no! Whatever put such an idea as that into your +head?" cried Sarah; and tatted and tatted, keeping time with a pretty +little foot. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought per'aps ..." said Hempel meekly. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't make your thoughts, Mr. Hempel," retorted Sarah, laying +stress on the aspirate. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, ma'am. I 'ope I didn't presume to suggest such a thing"; and +with a hangdog air Hempel prepared to slink away. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well!" said Sarah double quick; and ceasing to jerk her +crochet-needle in and out, she nimbly rolled up her ball of thread. +"Since you're so insistent ... and since, mind you, there's no society +worth calling such, on these diggings...." The truth was, Sarah saw +that she was about to be left alone with Mahony—Jerry had sauntered +off to meet Ned—and this TETE-A-TETE was by no means to her mind. She +still bore her brother-in-law a grudge for his high-handed treatment of +her at the time of John's bereavement. "As if I had been one of the +domestics, my dear—a paid domestic! Ordered me off to the butcher's in +language that fairly shocked me." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony turned his back and strolled down to the river. He did not know +which was more painful to witness: Hempel's unmanly cringing, or the +air of fatuous satisfaction that succeeded it. When he returned, the +pair was just setting out; he watched Sarah, on Hempel's arm, picking +short steps in dainty latchet-shoes. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as they were well away he called to Polly. +</P> + +<P> +"The coast's clear. Come for a stroll." +</P> + +<P> +Polly emerged, tying her bonnet-strings. "Why, where's Sarah? Oh ... I +see. Oh, Richard, I hope she didn't put on that—" +</P> + +<P> +"She did, my dear!" said Mahony grimly, and tucked his wife's hand +under his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, how I wish she wouldn't!" said Polly in a tone of concern. "She +does get so stared at—especially of an evening, when there are so many +rude men about. But I really don't think she minds. For she HAS a +bonnet in her box all the time." Miss Sarah was giving Ballarat food +for talk, by appearing on her promenades in a hat: a large, flat, +mushroom hat. +</P> + +<P> +"I trust my little woman will never put such a ridiculous object on her +head!" +</P> + +<P> +"No, never ... at least, not unless they become quite the fashion," +answered Polly. "And I don't think they will. They look too odd." +</P> + +<P> +"Another thing, love," continued Mahony, on whom a sudden light had +dawned as he stood listening to Sarah's trumpery. "I fear your sister +is trifling with the feelings of our worthy Hempel." +</P> + +<P> +Polly, who had kept her own counsel on this matter, went crimson. "Oh, +do you really think so, Richard?" she asked evasively. "I hope not. For +of course nothing could come of it. Sarah has refused the most eligible +offers." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but there are none here to refuse. And if you don't mind my saying +so, Poll, anything in trousers seems fish to her net!" +</P> + +<P> +On one of their pacings they found Mr. Ocock come out to smoke an +evening pipe. The old man had just returned from a flying visit to +Melbourne. He looked glum and careworn, but livened up at the sight of +Polly, and cracked one of the mouldy jokes he believed beneficial to a +young woman in her condition. Still, the leading-note in his mood was +melancholy; and this, although his dearest wish was on the point of +being fulfilled. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I've got the very crib for 'Enry at last, doc., Billy de la +Poer's liv'ry-stable, top o' Lydiard Street. We sol' poor Billy up +yesterday. The third smash in two days that makes. Lord! I dunno where +it'll end." +</P> + +<P> +"Things are going a bit quick over there. There's been too much +building." +</P> + +<P> +"They're at me to build, too—'Enry is. But I says no. This place is +good enough for me. If 'e's goin' to be ashamed of 'ow 'is father +lives, 'e'd better stop away. I'm an ol' man now, an' a poor one. What +should I want with a fine noo 'ouse? An' 'oo should I build it for, +even if I 'ad the tin? For them two good-for-nothin's in there? Not if +I know it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Ocock, you wouldn't believe how kind and clever Tom's been at +helping with the children," said Polly warmly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, an' at bottle-washin' and sweepin' and cookin' a pasty. But a +female 'ud do it just as well," returned Tom's father with a snort of +contempt. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor old chap!" said Mahony, as they passed out of earshot. "So even +the great Henry's arrival is not to be without its drop of gall." +</P> + +<P> +"Surely he'll never be ashamed of his father?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who knows! But it's plain he suspects the old boy has made his pile +and intends him to fork out," said Mahony carelessly; and, with this, +dismissed the subject. Now that his own days in the colony were +numbered, he no longer felt constrained to pump up a spurious interest +in local affairs. He consigned them wholesale to that limbo in which, +for him, they had always belonged. +</P> + +<P> +The two brothers came striding over the slope. Ned, clad in blue serge +shirt and corduroys, laid an affectionate arm round Polly's shoulder, +and tossed his hat into the air on hearing that the "Salamander," as he +called Sarah, was not at home. +</P> + +<P> +"For I've tons to tell you, Poll old girl. And when milady sits there +turning up her nose at everything a chap says, somehow the spunk goes +out of one." +</P> + +<P> +Polly had baked a large cake for her darling, and served out generous +slices. Then, drawing up a chair she sat down beside him, to drink in +his news. +</P> + +<P> +From his place at the farther end of the table Mahony studied the +trio—these three young faces which were so much alike that they might +have been different readings of one and the same face. Polly, by reason +of her woman's lot, looked considerably the oldest. Still, the +lamplight wiped out some of the shadows, and she was never more +girlishly vivacious than with Ned, entering as she did with zest into +his plans and ideas—more sister now than wife. And Ned showed at his +best with Polly: he laid himself out to divert her; forgot to brag or +to swear; and so natural did it seem for brother to open his heart to +sister that even his egoistic chatter passed muster. As for young +Jerry, who in a couple of days was to begin work in the same claim as +Ned, he sat round-eyed, his thoughts writ large on his forehead. Mahony +translated them thus: how in the world I could ever have sat prim and +proper on the school-bench, when all this—change, adventure, +romance—was awaiting me? Jerry was only, Mahony knew, to push a +wheelbarrow from hole to water and back again for many a week to come; +but for him it would certainly be a golden barrow, and laden with gold, +so greatly had Ned's tales fired his imagination. +</P> + +<P> +The onlooker felt odd man out, debarred as he was by his profounder +experience from sharing in the young people's light-legged dreams. He +took up his book. But his reading was cut into by Ned's sprightly +account of the Magpie rush; by his description of an engine at work on +the Eureka, and of the wooden airpipes that were being used to +ventilate deep-sinkings. There was nothing Ned did not know, and could +not make entertaining. One was forced, almost against one's will, to +listen to him; and on this particular evening, when he was neither +sponging, nor acting the Big Gun, Mahony toned down his first sweeping +judgment of his young relative. Ned was all talk; and what impressed +one so unfavourably—his grumbling, his extravagant boastfulness—was +the mere thistledown of the moment, puffed off into space. It mattered +little that he harped continually on "chucking up" his job. Two years +had passed since he came to Ballarat, and he was still working for hire +in somebody else's hole. He still groaned over the hardships of the +life, and still toiled on—and all the rest was just the froth and +braggadocio of aimless youth. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0207"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VII +</H3> + +<P> +Not twenty-four hours later, Sarah had an accident to her MACHOIRE and +returned post-haste to Melbourne. +</P> + +<P> +"A most opportune breakage!" said Mahony, and laughed. +</P> + +<P> +That day at the dinner-table he had given his sister-in-law a piece of +his mind. Sarah had always resented the name bestowed on her by her +parents, and was at present engaged in altering it, in giving it, so to +speak, a foreign tang: henceforth she was to be not Sarah, but Sara +(spoken Sahra). As often as Polly's tongue tripped over the unfamiliar +syllable, Sara gently but firmly put her right; and Polly corrected +herself, even begged pardon for her stupidity, till Mahony could bear +it no longer. Throwing politeness to the winds, he twitted Sara with +her finical affectations, her old-maidish ways, the morning sloth that +expected Polly, in her delicate state of health, to carry a +breakfast-tray to the bedside: cast up at her, in short, all that had +made him champ and fret in silence. Sara might, after a fitting period +of the huff, have overlooked the rest; but the "old-maidish" she could +not forgive. And directly dinner was over, the mishap to her mouthpiece +was made known. +</P> + +<P> +Too much in awe of Mahony to stand up to him—for when he was angry, he +was very angry—Sara retaliated by abusing him to Polly as she packed +her trunk. +</P> + +<P> +"Manners, indeed! To turn and insult a visitor at his own table! And +who and what is he, I should like to know, to speak to me so? Nothing +but a common storekeeper. My dear, you have my deepest sympathy. It's a +DREADFUL life for you. Of course you keep everything as nice as +possible, under the circumstances. But the surroundings, Polly! ... and +the store ... and the want of society. I couldn't put up with it, not +for a week!" +</P> + +<P> +Polly, sitting on the side of the tester-bed and feeling very cast down +at Sara's unfriendly departure, shed a few tears at this. For part of +what her sister said was true: it had been wrong of Richard to be rude +to Sara while the latter was a guest in his house. But she defended him +warmly. "I couldn't be happier than I am; Richard's the best husband in +the world. As for his being common, Sara, you know he comes of a much +better family than we do." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, common is as common does; and a vulgar calling ends by +vulgarising those who have the misfortune to pursue it. But there's +another reason, Polly, why it is better for me to leave you. There are +certain circumstances, my dear, in which, to put it mildly, it is +AWKWARD for two people of OPPOSITE sexes to go on living under the same +roof." +</P> + +<P> +"Sarah!—I mean Sara—do you really mean to say Hempel has made you a +proposal?" cried Polly, wide-eyed in her tears. +</P> + +<P> +"I won't say, my dear, that he has so far forgotten himself as to +actually offer marriage. But he has let me see only too plainly what +his feelings are. Of course, I've kept him in his place—the +preposterous creature! But all the same it's not COMME IL FAUT any +longer for me to be here." +</P> + +<P> +"Did she say where she was going, or what she intended to do?" Mahony +inquired of his wife that night as she bound the strings of her +nightcap. +</P> + +<P> +No, she hadn't, Polly admitted, rather out of countenance. But then +Sara was like that—very close about her own affairs. "I think she's +perhaps gone back to her last situation. She had several letters while +she was here, in that lady's hand. People are always glad to get her +back. Not many finishing governesses can teach all she can"—and Polly +checked off Sara's attainments on the fingers of both hands. "She won't +go anywhere under two hundred a year." +</P> + +<P> +"A most accomplished person, your sister!" said Mahony sleepily. +"Still, it's very pleasant to be by ourselves again—eh, wife?" +</P> + +<P> +An even more blessed peace shortly descended on the house; for the time +was now come to get rid of the children as well. Since nothing had been +heard of John, they were to be boarded out over Polly's illness. +Through the butcher's lady, arrangements were made with a trooper's +wife, who lived outside the racket and dust of the township, and had a +whole posse of little ones of her own.—"Bless you! half-a-dozen more +wouldn't make any difference to me. There's the paddock for 'em to run +wild in." This was the best that could be done for the children. Polly +packed their little kit, dealt out a parting bribe of barley-sugar, and +saw them hoisted into the dray that would pass the door of their +destination. +</P> + +<P> +Once more husband and wife sat alone together, as in the days before +John's domestic catastrophe. And now Mahony said tentatively: "Don't +you think, love, we could manage to get on without that old Beamish +woman? I'll guarantee to nurse you as well as any female alive." +</P> + +<P> +The question did not come as a surprise to Polly; she had already put +it to herself. After the affair with Sara she awaited her new visitor +in fear and trembling. Sara had at least stood in awe of Richard and +held her tongue before him; Mrs. Beamish prided herself on being afraid +of nobody, and on always speaking her mind. And yet, even while +agreeing that it would be well to put "mother" off, Polly drooped her +wings. At a time like this a woman was a woman. It seemed as if even +the best of husbands did not quite understand. +</P> + +<P> +"Just give her the hint we don't want her," said Mahony airily. +</P> + +<P> +But "mother" was not the person to take a hint, no matter how broad. It +was necessary to be blunt to the point of rudeness; and Polly spent a +difficult hour over the composition of her letter. She might have saved +her pains. Mrs. Beamish replied that she knew her darling little +Polly's unwillingness to give trouble; but it was not likely she would +now go back on her word: she had been packed and ready to start for the +past week. Polly handed the letter to her husband, and did not say what +she thought she read out of it, namely that "mother," who so seldom +could be spared from home, was looking forward with pleasure to her +trip to Ballarat. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose it's a case of making the best of a bad job," sighed Mahony; +and having one day drawn Mrs. Beamish, at melting point, from the +inside of a crowded coach, he loaded Long Jim with her bags and bundles. +</P> + +<P> +His aversion was not lightened by his subsequently coming on his wife +in the act of unpacking a hamper, which contained half a ham, a stone +jar of butter, some home-made loaves of bread, a bag of vegetables and +a plum pudding. "Good God! does the woman think we can't give her +enough to eat?" he asked testily. He had all the poor Irishman's +distrust of a gift. +</P> + +<P> +"She means it kindly, dear. She probably thought things were still +scarce here; and she knew I wouldn't be able to do much cooking," +pleaded Polly. And going out to the kitchen she untied the last parcel, +in which was a big round cheese, by stealth. +</P> + +<P> +She had pulled Mrs. Beamish over the threshold, had got her into the +bedroom and shut the door, before any of the "ohs" and "ahs" she saw +painted on the broad, rubicund face could be transformed into words. +And hugs and kisses over, she bravely seized the bull by the horns and +begged her guest not to criticise house or furnishings in front of +Richard. +</P> + +<P> +It took Mrs. Beamish a minute or two to grasp her meaning. Then, she +said heartily: "There, there, my duck, don't you worry! I'll be as mum +as mum." And in a whisper: "So, 'e's got a temper, Polly, 'as 'e? But +this I will say: if I'd known this was all 'e 'ad to h'offer you, I'd +'a' said, stop w'ere you are, my lamb, in a comfortable, 'appy 'ome." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I AM happy, mother dear, indeed I am!" cried Polly. "I've never +regretted being married—never once!" +</P> + +<P> +"There, there, now!" +</P> + +<P> +"And it's only ... I mean ... this is the best we can afford in the +meantime, and if I am satisfied ..." floundered Polly, dismayed to hear +her words construed into blame of her husband. "It's only that it +upsets Richard if people speak slightingly of our house, and that +upsets me—and I musn't be worried just now, you know," she added with +a somewhat shaky smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Not a word will I say, ducky, make yer pore little mind easy about +that. Though such a poky little 'en-coop of a place I never was +in!"—and, while tying her cap-strings, Mrs. Beamish swept the little +bedroom and its sloping roof with a withering glance. "I was 'orrified, +girls, simply 'ORRIFIED!" she related the incident to her daughters. +"An' I up an' told 'er so—just like me, you know. Not room enough to +swing a cat in, and 'im sittin' at the 'ead of the table as 'igh an' +mighty as a dook! You can thank yer stars, you two, 'e didn't take one +o' you instead o' Polly." But this was chiefly by way of a +consolation-prize for Tilly and Jinny. +</P> + +<P> +"An' now, my dear, tell me EVERYTHING." With these words, Mrs. Beamish +spread her skirts and settled down to a cosy chat on the subject of +Polly's hopes. +</P> + +<P> +But like the majority of her sex she was an adept at dividing her +attention; and while making delicate inquiries of the young wife, she +was also travelling her shrewd eye round the little bedchamber, spying +out and appraising: not one of poor Polly's makeshifts escaped her. The +result of her inspection was to cause her to feel justly indignant with +Mahony. The idea! Him to rob them of Polly just to dump her down in a +place like this! She would never be able to resist telling him what she +thought of him. +</P> + +<P> +Here, however, she reckoned without Polly. Polly was sharp enough to +doubt "mother's" ability to hold her tongue; and saw to it that Richard +and she were not left alone together. And of an evening when talk +languished, she would beg her husband to read to them from the BALLARAT +STAR, until, as often as not, Mrs. Beamish fell asleep. Frequently, +too, she persuaded him to go out and take a hand in a newlyformed whist +club, or discuss politics with a neighbour. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony went willingly enough; his home was less home than ever since +the big woman's intrusion. Even his food lost its savour. Mrs. Beamish +had taken over the cooking, and she went about it with an air that +implied he had not had a decent bite to eat since his marriage. +</P> + +<P> +"There! what do you say to that now? That's something LIKE a pudding!" +and a great plum-duff was planked triumphantly down in the middle of +the dinner-table. "Lor, Polly! your bit of a kitchen ... in this +weather ... I'm fair dished." And the good woman mopped her streaming +face and could herself eat nothing. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony much preferred his wife's cooking, which took account of his +tastes—it was done, too, without any fuss—and he persisted in +upholding Polly's skill, in face of Mrs. Beamish's good-natured +disbelief. Polly, on edge, lest he should openly state his preference, +nervously held out her plate. +</P> + +<P> +"It's so good, mother, I must have a second helping," she declared; and +then, without appetite in the cruel, midday heat, did not know what to +do with the solid slab of pudding. Pompey and Palmerston got into the +way of sitting very close to her chair. +</P> + +<P> +She confided to Richard that Mrs. Beamish disapproved of his evening +outings. "Many an 'usband takes to goin' out at such a time, my dear, +an' never gets back the 'abit of stoppin' at 'ome. So just you be +careful, ducky!" This was a standing joke between them. Mahony would +wink at Polly when he put his hat on, and wear it rakishly askew. +</P> + +<P> +However, he quite enjoyed a crack with the postmaster or the +town-surveyor, at this juncture. Colonial politics were more +interesting than usual. The new Constitution had been proclaimed, and a +valiant effort was being made to form a Cabinet; to induce, that was, a +sufficient number of well-to-do men to give up time to the service of +their country. It looked as if the attempt were going to fail, just as +on the goldfields the Local Courts, by which since the Stockade the +diggers governed themselves, were failing, because none could afford to +spend his days sitting in them. +</P> + +<P> +Yet however high the discussion ran, he kept one ear turned towards his +home. Here, things were at a standstill. Polly's time had come and +gone—but there was no end set to their suspense. It was blazing hot +now in the little log house; walls and roof were black with flies; +mosquitoes made the nights hideous. Even Polly lost patience with +herself when, morning after morning, she got up feeling as well as +ever, and knowing that she had to steer through another difficult day. +</P> + +<P> +It was not the suspense alone: the strain of keeping the peace was +growing too much for her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, DON'T quarrel with her, Richard, for my sake," she begged her +husband one night. "She means so well. And she can't help being like +she is—she has always been accustomed to order Mr. Beamish about. But +I wish she had never, never come," sobbed poor Polly. And Mahony, in a +sudden flash of enlightenment, put his arms round her, and made humble +promises. Not another word should cross his lips! "Though I'd like +nothing so well as to throw her out, and her bags and bundles after +her. Come, laugh a little, my Polly. Think of the old lady flying down +the slope, with her packages in a shower about her head!" +</P> + +<P> +Rogers, M.D., looked in whenever he passed. At this stage he was of the +jocular persuasion. "Still an unwelcome visitor, ma'am? No little +tidbit of news for me to-day?" There he sat, twiddling his thumbs, +reiterating his singsong: "Just so!" and looking wise as an owl. Mahony +knew the air—had many a time seen it donned to cloak perplexity—and +covert doubts of Rogers' ability began to assail him. But then he fell +mentally foul of every one he came in touch with, at present: Ned, for +the bare-faced fashion in which he left his cheerfulness on the +door-mat; Mrs. Beamish for the eternal "Pore lamb!" with which she +beplastered Polly, and the antiquated reckoning-table she embarrassed +them by consulting. +</P> + +<P> +However, this state of things could not last for ever, and at dawn, one +hot January day, Polly was taken ill. +</P> + +<P> +The early hours promised well. But the morning wore on, turned to +midday, then to afternoon, and matters still hung fire. While towards +six o'clock the patient dismayed them by sitting up in bed, saying she +felt much better, and asking for a cup of tea. This drew: "Ah, my pore +lamb, you've got to feel worse yet afore you're better!" from Mrs. +Beamish. +</P> + +<P> +It ended in Rogers taking up his quarters there, for the night. +</P> + +<P> +Towards eleven o'clock Mahony and he sat, one on each side of the +table, in the little sitting-room. The heat was insupportable and all +three doors and the window were propped open, in the feeble hope of +creating a draught. The lamp had attracted a swarm of flying things: +giant moths beat their wings against the globe, or fell singed and +sizzling down the chimney; winged-ants alighted with a click upon the +table; blowflies and mosquitoes kept up a dizzy hum. +</P> + +<P> +From time to time Mahony rose and stole into the bedroom, where Mrs. +Beamish sat fanning the pests off Polly, who was in a feverish doze. +Leaning over his wife he let his finger lie on her wrist; and, back +again in the outer room, he bit nervously at his little-finger nail—an +old trick of his when in a quandary. He had curtly refused a game of +bezique; so Rogers had produced a pack of cards from his own +pocket—soiled, frayed cards, which had likely done service on many a +similar occasion—and was whiling the time away with solitaire. To sit +there watching his slow manipulation of the cards, his patent +intentness on the game; to listen any longer to the accursed din of the +gnats and flies passed Mahony's powers of endurance. Abruptly shoving +back his chair, he went out into the yard. +</P> + +<P> +This was some twenty paces across—from the row of old kerosene-tins +that constituted his flower-garden, past shed and woodstack to the +post-and-rail fence. How often he walked it he did not know; but when +he went indoors again, his boots were heavy with mud. For a brief +summer storm had come up earlier in the evening. A dense black pall of +cloud had swept like a heavy curtain over the stars, to the tune of +flash and bang. Now, all was clear and calm again; the white star-dust +of the Milky Way powdered the sky just overhead; and though the heat +was still intense, the air had a fragrant smell of saturated dust and +rain-soaked earth—he could hear streamlets of water trickling down the +hillside to the river below. +</P> + +<P> +Out there in the dark, several things became plain to him. He saw that +he had not had any real confidence in Rogers from the start; while the +effect of the evening spent at close quarters had been to sink his +opinion to nothing. Rogers belonged to an old school; his method was to +sit by and let nature take its course—perhaps just this slowness to +move had won him a name for extreme care. His old fogyism showed up +unmistakably in a short but heated argument they had had on the subject +of chloroform. He cited such hoary objections to the use of the new +anaesthetic in maternity cases as Mahony had never expected to hear +again: the therapeutic value of pain; the moral danger the patient ran +in yielding up her will ("What right have we to bid a fellow-creature +sacrifice her consciousness?") and the impious folly of interfering +with the action of a creative law. It had only remained for him to +quote Genesis, and the talking serpent! +</P> + +<P> +Had the case been in his own hands he would have intervened before now. +Rogers, on the contrary, was still satisfied with the shape of +affairs—or made pretence to be. For, watching lynx-eyed, Mahony +fancied each time the fat man propelled his paunch out of the sickroom +it was a shade less surely: there were nuances, too, in the way he +pronounced his vapid: "As long as our strength is well maintained ... +well maintained." Mahony doubted Polly's ability to bear much more; and +he made bold to know his own wife's constitution best. Rogers was +shilly-shallying: what if he delayed too long and Polly slipped through +his hands? Lose Polly? Good God! the very thought turned him cold. And +alive to his finger-tips with the superstition of his race, he +impetuously offered up his fondest dream to those invisible powers that +sat aloft, waiting to be appeased. If this was to be the price exacted +of him—the price of his escape from exile—then... then ... +</P> + +<P> +To come back to the present, however, he was in an awkward position: he +was going to be forced to take Polly's case out of the hands of the man +to whom he had entrusted it. Such a step ran counter to all the stiff +rules of conduct, the punctilios of decorum, laid down by the most +code-ridden profession in the world. +</P> + +<P> +But a fresh visit to Polly, whose pulse had grown markedly softer, put +an end to his scruples. +</P> + +<P> +Stalking into the sitting-room he said without preamble: "In my opinion +any further delay will mean a risk to my wife. I request you to operate +immediately." +</P> + +<P> +Rogers blinked up from his cards, surprise writ across his ruddy +countenance. He pushed his spectacles to his forehead. "Eh? What? Well, +well ... yes, the time is no doubt coming when we shall have to lend +Mother Nature a hand." +</P> + +<P> +"Coming? It's come ... and gone. Are you blind, man?" +</P> + +<P> +Rogers had faced many an agitated husband in his day. "Now, now, Mr. +Mahony," he said soothingly, and laid his last two cards in line. "You +must allow me to be the judge of that. Besides," he added, as he took +off his glasses to polish them on a red bandanna; "besides, I should +have to ask you to go out and get some one to assist me." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall assist you," returned Mahony. +</P> + +<P> +Rogers smiled his broad, fat smile. "Easier said than done, my good +sir! ... easier said than done." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony considerately turned his back; and kept it turned. Emptying a +pitcher of water into a basin he began to lather his hands. "I am a +qualified medical man. Of the same university as yourself. I studied +under Simpson." It cost him an effort to get the words out. But, by +speaking, he felt that he did ample penance for the fit of tetchy pride +which, in the first instance, had tied his tongue. +</P> + +<P> +Rogers was dumbfounded. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, upon my word!" he ejaculated, letting his hands with glasses and +handkerchief fall to the table. "God bless my soul! why couldn't you +say so before? And why the deuce didn't you yourself attend—" +</P> + +<P> +"We can go into all that afterwards." +</P> + +<P> +But Rogers was not one of those who could deal rapidly with the +unexpected: he continued to vent his surprise, and to shoot distrustful +glances at his companion. He was flurried, too, at being driven forward +quicker than he had a mind to go, and said sulkily that Mahony must +take full responsibility for what they were about to do. Mahony hardly +heard him; he was looking at the instruments laid out on the table. His +fingers itched to close round them. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll prepare my wife," he said briskly. And going into the bedroom he +bent over the pillow. It was damp with the sweat that had dripped from +Polly's head when the pains were on her. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ere, you girl, get in quick now with your bucket and cloth, and give +that place a good clean-up afore that pore lamb opens 'er eyes again. +I'm cooked—that's what I am!" and sitting heavily down on the +kitchen-chair, Mrs. Beamish wiped her face towards the four points of +the compass. +</P> + +<P> +Piqued by an unholy curiosity young Ellen willingly obeyed. But a +minute later she was back, having done no more than set her pail down +inside the bedroom door. "Oh, sure, Mrs. Beamish, and I can't do't!" +she cried shrilly. "It's jus' like Andy Soakes's shop ... when they've +bin quarterin' a sheep." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll QUARTER you, you lazy trollop, you!" cried Mrs. Beamish, rising +to her aching legs again; and her day-old anxiety found vent in a +hearty burst of temper. "I'll teach you!" pulling, as she spoke, the +floorcloth out of the girl's hand. "Such airs and graces! Why, sooner +or later, milady, you've got to go through it yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"ME ...? Catch me!" said Ellen, with enormous emphasis. "D'yer mean to +say that's 'ow ... 'ow the children always come?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course it is, you mincing Nanny-hen!—every blessed child that +walks. And I just 'ope," said Mrs. Beamish, as she marched off herself +with brush and scrubber: "I 'ope, now you know it, you'll 'ave a little +more love and gratitoode for your own mother than ever you 'ad before." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh lor!" said the girl. "Oh, lor!" And plumping down on the +chopping-block she snatched her apron to her face and began to cry. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0208"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VIII +</H3> + +<P> +Two months passed before Mahony could help Polly and Mrs. Beamish into +the coach bound for Geelong. +</P> + +<P> +It had been touch and go with Polly; and for weeks her condition had +kept him anxious. With the inset of the second month, however, she +seemed fairly to turn the corner, and from then on made a steady +recovery, thanks to her youth and an unimpaired vitality. +</P> + +<P> +He had hurried the little cradle out of sight. But Polly was quick to +miss it, and quite approved of its having been given to a needy +expectant mother near by. Altogether she bore the thwarting of her +hopes bravely. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor little baby, I should have been very fond of it," was all she +said, when she was well enough to fold and pack away the tiny garments +at which she had stitched with such pleasure. +</P> + +<P> +It was not to Mahony's mind that she returned with Mrs. Beamish—but +what else could be done? After lying a prisoner through the hot summer, +she was sadly in need of a change. And Mrs. Beamish promised her a diet +of unlimited milk and eggs, as well as the do nothing life that +befitted an invalid. Just before they left, a letter arrived from John +demanding the keys of his house, and proposing that Polly should come +to town to set it in order for him, and help him to engage a +housekeeper. A niggardly—a truly "John-ish"—fashion of giving an +invitation, thought Mahony, and was not for his wife accepting it. But +Polly was so pleased at the prospect of seeing her brother that he +ended by agreeing to her going on to Melbourne as soon as she had +thoroughly recuperated. +</P> + +<P> +Peace between him and Mrs. Beamish was dearly bought up to the last; +they barely avoided a final explosion. At the beginning of her third +month's absence from home the good woman grew very restive, and sighed +aloud for the day on which she would be able to take her departure. +</P> + +<P> +"I expec' my bein' away like this'll run clean into a fifty-poun' +note," she said one evening. "When it comes to managin' an 'ouse, those +two girls of mine 'aven't a h'ounce o' gumption between them." +</P> + +<P> +It WAS tactless of her, even Polly felt that; though she could +sympathise with the worry that prompted the words. As for Mahony, had +he had the money to do it, he would have flung the sum named straight +at her head. +</P> + +<P> +"She must never come again," said Polly to herself, as she bent over +the hair-chain she was making as a gift for John. "It is a pity, but it +seems as if Richard can't get on with those sort of people." +</P> + +<P> +In his relief at having his house to himself, Mahony accepted even +Polly's absence with composure. To be perpetually in the company of +other people irked him beyond belief. A certain amount of privacy was +as vital to him as sleep. +</P> + +<P> +Delighting in his new-found solitude, he put off from day to day the +disagreeable job of winding up his affairs and discovering how much—or +how little—ready money there would be to set sail with. Another thing, +some books he had sent home for, a year or more ago, came to hand at +this time, and gave him a fresh pretext for delay. There were eight or +nine volumes to unpack and cut the pages of. He ran from one to +another, sipping, devouring. Finally he cast anchor in a collected +edition of his old chief's writings on obstetrics—slipped in, this, as +a gift from the sender, a college chum—and over it, his feet on the +table, his dead pipe in the corner of his mouth, Mahony sat for the +better part of the night. +</P> + +<P> +The effect of this master-mind on his was that of a spark on tinder. +Under the flash, he cursed for the hundredth time the folly he had been +guilty of in throwing up medicine. It was a vocation that had fitted +him as coursing fits a hound, or house-wifery a woman. The only excuse +he could find for his apostasy was that he had been caught in an +epidemic of unrest, which had swept through the country, upsetting the +balance of men's reason. He had since wondered if the Great Exhibition +of '51 had not had something to do with it, by unduly whetting people's +imaginations; so that but a single cry of "Gold!" was needed, to loose +the spirit of vagrancy that lurks in every Briton's blood. His case had +perhaps been peculiar in this: no one had come forward to warn or +dissuade. His next relatives—mother and sisters—were, he thought, +glad to know him well away. In their eyes he had lowered himself by +taking up medicine; to them it was still of a piece with barber's pole +and cupping-basin. Before his time no member of the family had entered +any profession but the army. Oh, that infernal Irish pride! ... and +Irish poverty. It had choke-damped his youth, blighted the prospects of +his sisters. He could remember, as if it were yesterday, the jibes and +fleers called forth by the suit of a wealthy Dublin brewer, who had +been attracted—by sheer force of contrast, no doubt—to the elder of +the two swan-necked, stiff-backed Miss Townshend-Mahonys, with their +long, thin noses, and the ingrained lines that ran from the curled +nostrils to the corners of their supercilious mouths, describing a +sneer so deep that at a distance it was possible to mistake it for a +smile. "Beer, my dear, indeed and there are worse things in the world +than beer!" he heard his mother declare in her biting way. "By all +means take him! You can wash yourself in it if water gets scarce, and +I'll place my kitchen orders with you." Lucinda, who had perhaps +sniffed timidly at release, burnt crimson: thank you! she would rather +eat rat-bane.—He supposed they pinched and scraped along as of +old—the question of money was never broached between him and them. +Prior to his marriage he had sent them what he could; but that little +was in itself an admission of failure. They made no inquiries about his +mode of life, preferring it to remain in shadow; enough for them that +he had not amassed a fortune. Had that come to pass, they might have +pardoned the rude method of its making—in fancy he listened to the +witty, cutting, self-derisive words, in which they would have alluded +to his success. +</P> + +<P> +Lying back in his chair he thought of them thus, without unkindliness, +even with a dash of humour. That was possible, now that knocking about +the world had rubbed off some of his own corners. In his young days, +he, too, had been hot and bitter. What, however, to another might have +formed the chief crux in their conduct—it was by squandering such +money as there was, his own portion among it, on his scamp of an elder +brother, that they had forced him into the calling they despised—this +had not troubled him greatly. For medicine was the profession on which +his choice would anyhow have fallen. And to-night the book that lay +before him had infected him with the old enthusiasm. He re-lived those +days when a skilfully handled case of PLACENTA PREVIA, or a successful +delivery in the fourth position, had meant more to him than the Charge +of the Light Brigade. +</P> + +<P> +Fresh from this dip into the past, this foretaste of the future, he +turned in good heart to business. An inventory had to be taken; damaged +goods cleared out; a list of bad and less bad debts drawn up: he and +Hempel were hard at work all next day. The result was worse even than +he had expected. His outlay that summer—ever since the day on which he +had set off to the aid of his bereaved relative—had been enormous. +Trade had run dry, and throughout Polly's long illness he had dipped +blindly into his savings. He could never have said no to Mrs. Beamish +when she came to him for money—rather would he have pawned the coat +off his back. And she, good woman, was unused to cheeseparing. His +men's wages paid, berths booked, the numerous expenses bound up with a +departure defrayed, he would have but a scanty sum in hand with which +to start on the other side. +</P> + +<P> +For himself he was not afraid; but he shrank from the thought of Polly +undergoing privations. So far, they had enjoyed a kind of frugal +comfort. But should he meet with obstacles at the outset: if patients +were laggardly and the practice slow to move, or if he himself fell +ill, they might have a spell of real poverty to face. And it was under +the goad of this fear that he hit on a new scheme. Why not leave Polly +behind for a time, until he had succeeded in making a home for +her?—why not leave her under the wing of brother John? John stood +urgently in need of a head for his establishment, and who so well +suited for the post as Polly? Surely, if it were put before him, John +must jump at the offer! Parting from Polly, and were it only for a +little while, would be painful; but, did he go alone, he would be free +to do his utmost—and with an easy mind, knowing that she lacked none +of the creature-comforts. Yes, the more he considered the plan, the +better he liked it. The one flaw in his satisfaction was the thought +that if their child had lived, no such smooth and simple arrangement +would have been possible. He could not have foisted a family on Turnham. +</P> + +<P> +Now he waited with impatience for Polly to return—his reasonable +little Polly! But he did not hurry her. Polly was enjoying her holiday. +Having passed to Melbourne from Geelong she wrote: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +JOHN IS SO VERY KIND. HE DOESN'T OF COURSE GO OUT YET HIMSELF, BUT I +WAS PRESENT WITH SOME FRIENDS OF HIS AT A VERY ELEGANT SOIREE. JOHN +GAVE ME A HEADDRESS COMPOSED OF BLACK PEARLS AND FROSTED LEAVES. HE +MEANS TO GO IN FOR POLITIES AS SOON AS HIS YEAR OF MOURNING IS UP. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Mahony replied: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +ENJOY YOURSELF, MY HEART, AND SET ALL THE SIGHTS YOU CAN. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +While into more than one of his letters he slipped a banknote. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +FOR YOU KNOW I LIKE YOU TO PAY YOUR OWN WAY AS FAR AS POSSIBLE. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +And at length the day came when he could lift his wife out of the +coach. She emerged powdered brown with dust and very tired, but +radiantly happy: it was a great event in little Polly's life, this +homecoming, and coming, too, strong and well. The house was a lively +place that afternoon: Polly had so much to tell that she sat holding +her bonnet for over an hour, quite unable to get as far as the bedroom; +and even Long Jim's mouth went up at the corners instead of down; for +Polly had contrived to bring back a little gift for every one. And in +presenting these, she found out more of what people were thinking and +feeling than her husband had done in all the eight weeks of her absence. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony was loath to damp her pleasure straightway; he bided his time. +He could not know that Polly also had been laying plans, and that she +watched anxiously for the right moment to unfold them. +</P> + +<P> +The morning after her return, she got a lift in the baker's cart and +drove out to inspect John's children. What she saw and heard on this +visit was disquieting. The children had run wild, were grown dirty, +sly, untruthful. Especially the boy.—"A young Satan, and that's a +fact, Mrs. Mahony! What he needs is a man's hand over him, and a good +hidin' six days outer seven." +</P> + +<P> +It was not alone little Johnny's misconduct, however, that made Polly +break silence. An incident occurred that touched her still more nearly. +</P> + +<P> +Husband and wife sat snug and quiet as in the early days of their +marriage. Autumn had come round and a fire burnt in the stove, before +which Pompey snorted in his dreams. But, for all the cosy tranquillity, +Polly was not happy; and time and again she moistened and bit at the +tip of her thread, before pointing it through her needle. For the book +open before Richard, in which he was making notes as he read, was—the +Bible. Bending over him to drop a kiss on the top of his head, Polly +had been staggered by what she saw. Opposite the third verse of the +first chapter of Genesis: "And God said, Let there be light: and there +was light," he had written: "Three days before the sun!" Her heart +seemed to shrivel, to grow small in her breast, at the thought of her +husband being guilty of such impiety. Ceasing her pretence at sewing, +she walked out of the house into the yard. Standing there under the +stars she said aloud, as if some one, THE One, could hear her: "He +doesn't mean to do wrong.... I KNOW he doesn't!" But when she +re-entered the room he was still at it. His beautiful writing, reduced +to its tiniest, wound round the narrow margins. +</P> + +<P> +Deeply red, Polly took her courage in both hands, and struck a blow for +the soul whose salvation was more to her than her own. "Richard, do you +think that ... is ... is right?" she asked in a low voice. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony raised his head. "Eh?—what, Pollykin?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean, do you think you ought ... that it is right to do what you are +doing?" +</P> + +<P> +The smile, half-tender, half-quizzical that she loved, broke over her +husband's face. He held out his hand. "Is my little wife troubled?" +</P> + +<P> +"Richard, I only mean..." +</P> + +<P> +"Polly, my dear, don't worry your little head over what you don't +understand. And have confidence in me. You know I wouldn't do anything +I believed to be wrong?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, indeed. And you are really far more religious than I am." +</P> + +<P> +"One can be religious and yet not shut one's eyes to the truth. It's +Saint Paul, you know, who says: we can do nothing against the Truth but +for the Truth. And you may depend on it, Polly, the All-Wise would +never have given us the brains He has, if He had not intended us to use +them. Now I have long felt sure that the Bible is not wholly what it +claims to be—direct inspiration." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard!" said Polly, and threw an anxious glance over her +shoulder. "If anyone should hear you!" +</P> + +<P> +"We can't afford to let our lives be governed by what other people +think, Polly. Nor will I give any man the right to decide for me what +my share of the Truth shall be." +</P> + +<P> +On seeing the Bible closed Polly breathed again, at the same time +promising herself to take the traitorous volume into safe-keeping, that +no third person's eye should rest on it. Perhaps, too, if it were put +away Richard would forget to go on writing in it. He had probably begun +in the first place only because he had nothing else to do. In the store +he sat and smoked and twirled his thumbs—not half a dozen customers +came in, in the course of the day. If he were once properly occupied +again, with work that he liked, he would not be tempted to put his +gifts to such a profane use. Thus she primed herself for speaking. For +now was the time. Richard was declaring that trade had gone to the +dogs, his takings dropped to a quarter of what they had formerly been. +This headed just where she wished. But Polly would not have been Polly, +had she not glanced aside for a moment, to cheer and console. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the same everywhere, Richard. Everybody's complaining. And that +reminds me, I forgot to tell you about the Beamishes. They're in great +trouble. You see, a bog has formed in front of the Hotel, and the +traffic goes round another way, so they've lost most of their custom. +Mr. Beamish never opens his mouth at all now, and mother is fearfully +worried. That's what was the matter when she was here—only she was too +kind to say so." +</P> + +<P> +"Hard lines!" +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed it is. But about us; I'm not surprised to hear trade is dull. +Since I was over in the western township last, no less than six new +General Stores have gone up—I scarcely knew the place. They've all got +big plate-glass windows; and were crowded with people." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, there's a regular exodus up west. But that doesn't alter the +fact, wife, that I've made a very poor job of storekeeping. I shall +leave here with hardly a penny to my name." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but then, Richard," said Polly, and bent over her strip of +needlework, "you were never cut out to be a storekeeper, were you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was not. And I verily believe, if it hadn't been for that old +sober-sides of a Hempel, I should have come a cropper long ago." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and Hempel," said Polly softly; "Hempel's been wanting to leave +for ever so long." +</P> + +<P> +"The dickens he has!" cried Mahony in astonishment. "And me humming and +hawing about giving him notice! What's the matter with him? What's he +had to complain of?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, nothing like that. He wants to enter the ministry. A helper's +needed at the Baptist Chapel, and he means to apply for the post. You +see, he's saved a good deal, and thinks he can study to be a minister +at the same time." +</P> + +<P> +"Study for his grave, the fool! So that's it, is it? Well, well! it +saves trouble in the end. I don't need to bother my head now over +what's to become of him ... him or anyone else. My chief desire is to +say good-bye to this hole for ever. There's no sense, Polly, in my +dawdling on. Indeed, I haven't the money to do it. So I've arranged, my +dear, with our friend Ocock to come in and sell us off, as soon as you +can get our personal belongings put together." +</P> + +<P> +Here Polly raised her head as if to interrupt; but Mahony, full of what +he had to say, ignored the movement, and went on speaking. He did not +wish to cause his wife uneasiness, by dwelling on his difficulties; but +some explanation was necessary to pave the way for his proposal that +she should remain behind, when he left the colony. He spent all his +eloquence in making this sound natural and attractive. But it was hard, +when Polly's big, astonished eyes hung on his face. "Do you think, for +my sake, you could be brave enough?" he wound up, rather unsurely. "It +wouldn't be for long, love, I'm certain of that. Just let me set foot +in England once more!" +</P> + +<P> +"Why ... why, yes, dear Richard, I ... I think I could, if you really +wished it," said Polly in a small voice. She tried to seem reasonable; +though black night descended on her at the thought of parting, and +though her woman's eyes saw a hundred objections to the plan, which his +had overlooked. (For one thing, John had just installed Sara as +housekeeper, and Sara would take it very unkindly to be shown the +door.) "I THINK I could," she repeated. "But before you go on, dear, I +should like to ask YOU something." +</P> + +<P> +She laid down her needlework; her heart was going pit-a-pat. "Richard, +did you ever... I mean have you never thought of ... of taking up your +profession again—I mean here—starting practice here?—No, wait a +minute! Let me finish. I ... I ... oh, Richard!" Unable to find words, +Polly locked her fingers under the tablecloth and hoped she was not +going to be so silly as to cry. Getting up, she knelt down before her +husband, laying her hands on his knees. "Oh, Richard, I wish you +would—HOW I wish you would!" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Polly!" said Mahony, surprised at her agitation. "Why, my dear, +what's all this?—You want to know if I never thought of setting up in +practice out here? Of course I did ... in the beginning. You don't +think I'd have chosen to keep a store, if there'd been any other +opening for me? But there wasn't, child. The place was overrun. Never a +medico came out and found digging too much for him, but he fell back in +despair on his profession. I didn't see my way to join their starvation +band." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, THEN, Richard!—but now?" broke in Polly. "Now, it's quite, quite +different. Look at the size Ballarat has grown—there are more than +forty thousand people settled on it; Mr. Ocock told me so. And you +know, dear, doctors have cleared out lately, not come fresh. There was +that one, I forget his name, who drank himself to death; and the two, +you remember, who were sold up just before Christmas." But this was an +unfortunate line of argument to have hit on, and Polly blushed and +stumbled. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony laughed at her slip, and smoothed her hair. "Typical fates, +love! They mustn't be mine. Besides, Polly, you're forgetting the main +thing—how I hate the place, and how I've always longed to get away." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I'm not. But please let me go on.—You know, Richard, every one +believes some day Ballarat will be the chief city—bigger even than +Geelong or Melbourne. And then to have a good practice here would mean +ever such a lot of money. I'm not the only person who thinks so. +There's Sara, and Mrs. Beamish—I know, of course, you don't care much +what they say; but still—" Polly meant: still, you see, I have public +opinion on my side. As, however, once more words failed her, she +hastened to add: "John, too, is amazed to hear you think of going home +to bury yourself in some little English village. He's sure there'd be a +splendid opening for you here. John thinks very, very highly of you. He +told me he believes you would have saved Emma's life, if you had been +there." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm much obliged to your brother for his confidence," said Mahony +dryly; "but—" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a minute, Richard! You see, dear, I can't help feeling myself +that you ought not to be too hasty in deciding. Of course, I know I'm +young, and haven't had much experience, but ... You see, you're KNOWN +here, Richard, and that's always something; in England you'd be a +perfect stranger. And though you may say there are too many doctors on +the Flat, still, if the place goes on growing as it is doing, there'll +soon be room for more; and then, if it isn't you, it'll just be some +one else. And that DOES seem a pity, when you are so clever—so much, +much cleverer than other people! Yes, I know all about it; Mrs. Beamish +told me it was you I owed my life to, not Dr. Rogers"—at which Mahony +winced, indignant that anyone should have betrayed to Polly how near +death she had been. "Oh, I DO want people to know you for what you +really are!" said little Polly. +</P> + +<P> +"Pussy, I believe she has ambitions for her husband," said Mahony to +Palmerston. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I have. You say you hate Ballarat, and all that, but have +you ever thought, Richard, what a difference it would make if you were +in a better position? You think people look down on you, because you're +in trade. But if you were a doctor, there'd be none of that. You'd call +yourself by your full name again, and write it down on the visiting +list at Government House, and be as good as anybody, and be asked into +society, and keep a horse. You'd live in a bigger house, and have a +room to yourself and time to read and write. I'm quite sure you'd make +lots of money and soon be at the top of the tree. And after all, dear +Richard, I don't want to go home. I would much rather stay here and +look after Jerry, and dear Ned, and poor John's children," said Polly, +falling back as a forlorn hope on her own preference. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, what a piece of special pleading!" cried Mahony, and leaning +forward, he kissed the young flushed face. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't laugh at me. I'm in earnest." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, no, child. But Polly, my dear, even if I were tempted for a +moment to think seriously of what you say, where would the money come +from? Fees are high, it's true, if the ball's once set a-rolling. But +till then? With a jewel of a wife like mine, I'd be a scoundrel to take +risks." +</P> + +<P> +Polly had been waiting for this question. On hearing it, she sat back +on her heels and drew a deep breath. The communication she had now to +make him was the hub round which all turned. Should he refuse to +consider it.... Plucking at the fringe of the tablecloth, she brought +out, piecemeal, the news that John was willing to go surety for the +money they would need to borrow for the start. Not only that: he +offered them a handsome sum weekly to take entire charge of his +children.—"Not here, in this little house—I know that wouldn't do," +Polly hastened to throw in, forestalling the objection she read in +Richard's eyes. Now did he not think he should weigh an offer of this +kind very carefully? A name like John's was not to be despised; most +people in their position would jump at it. "I understand something +about it," said the little woman, and sagely nodded her head. "For when +I was in Geelong, Mr. Beamish tried his hardest to raise some money and +couldn't, his sureties weren't good enough." Mahony had not the heart +to chide her for discussing his private affairs with her brother. +Indeed, he rather admired the businesslike way she had gone about it. +And he admitted this, by ceasing to banter and by calling her attention +to the various hazards and inconveniences the step would entail. +</P> + +<P> +Polly heard him out in silence. Enough for her, in the beginning, that +he did not decline off-hand. They had a long talk, the end of which was +that he promised to sleep over John's proposal, and delay fixing the +date of the auction till the morning. +</P> + +<P> +Having yielded this point Mahony kissed his wife and sent her to bed, +himself going out with the dog for his usual stroll. +</P> + +<P> +It was a fine night—moonless, but thick with stars. So much, at least, +could be said in favour of the place: there was abundant sky-room; you +got a clear half of the great vault at once. How he pitied, on such a +night, the dwellers in old, congested cities, whose view of the starry +field was limited to a narrow strip, cut through house-tops. +</P> + +<P> +Yet he walked with a springless tread. The fact was, certain of his +wife's words had struck home; and in the course of the past year he had +learnt to put considerable faith in Polly's practical judgment. As he +wound his way up the little hill to which he had often carried his +perplexities, he let his pipe go out, and forgot to whistle Pompey off +butcher's garbage. +</P> + +<P> +Sitting down on a log he rested his chin in his hands. Below him +twinkled the sparse lights of the Flat; shouts and singing rose from +the circus.—And so John would have been willing to go surety for him! +Let no one say the unexpected did not happen. All said and done, they +were little more than strangers to each other, and John had no notion +what his money-making capacities as a doctor might be. It was true, +Polly had been too delicate to mention whether the affair had come +about through her persuasions or on John's own initiative. John might +have some ulterior motive up his sleeve. Perhaps he did not want to +lose his sister ... or was scheming to bind a pair of desirables fast +to this colony, the welfare of which he had so much at heart. Again, it +might be that he wished to buy off the memory of that day on which he +had stripped his soul naked. Simplest of all, why should he not be +merely trying to pay back a debt? He, Mahony, might shrink from lying +under an obligation to John, but, so far, the latter had not scrupled +to accept favours from him. But that was always the way with your rich +men; they were not troubled by paltry pride; for they knew it was +possible to acquit themselves of their debts at a moment's notice, and +with interest. This led him to reflect on the great help to him the +loan of his wealthy relative's name would be: difficulties would melt +before it. And surely no undue risk was involved in the use of it? +Without boasting, he thought he was better equipped, both by aptitude +and training, than the ruck of colonial practitioners. Did he enter the +lists, he could hardly fail to succeed. And out here even a moderate +success spelled a fortune. Gained double-quick, too. After which the +lucky individual sold out and went home, to live in comfort. Yes, that +was a point, and not to be overlooked. No definite surrender of one's +hopes was called for; only a postponement. Ten years might do it—meaty +years, of course, the best years of one's life—still .... It would +mean very hard work; but had he not just been contemplating, with +perfect equanimity, an even more arduous venture on the other side? +What a capricious piece of mechanism was the human brain! +</P> + +<P> +Another thought that occurred to him was that his services might prove +more useful to this new country than to the old, where able men +abounded. He recalled many good lives and promising cases he had here +seen lost and bungled. To take the instance nearest home—Polly's +confinement. Yes, to show his mettle to such as Rogers; to earn respect +where he had lived as a mere null—the idea had an insidious +fascination. And as Polly sagely remarked: if it were not he, it would +be some one else; another would harvest the KUDOS that might have been +his. For the rough-and-ready treatment—the blue pills and black +draughts—that had satisfied the early diggers had fallen into +disrepute; medical skill was beginning to be appreciated. If this went +on, Ballarat would soon stand on a level with any city of its size at +home. But even as it was, he had never been quite fair to it; he had +seen it with a jaundiced eye. And again he believed Polly hit the nail +on the head, when she asserted that the poor position he had occupied +was responsible for much of his dislike. +</P> + +<P> +But there was something else at work in him besides. Below the surface +an admission awaited him, which he shrank from making. All these pros +and cons, these quibbles and hair-splittings were but a misfit attempt +to cloak the truth. He might gull himself with them for a time: in his +heart he knew that he would yield—if yield he did—because he was by +nature only too prone to follow the line of least resistance. What he +had gone through to-night was no new experience. Often enough after +fretting and fuming about a thing till it seemed as if nothing under +the sun had ever mattered so much to him, it could happen that he +suddenly threw up the sponge and bowed to circumstance. His vitality +exhausted itself beforehand—in a passionate aversion, a torrent of +words—and failed him at the critical moment. It was a weakness in his +blood—in the blood of his race.—But in the present instance, he had +an excuse for himself. He had not known—till Polly came out with her +brother's offer—how he dreaded having to begin all over again in +England, an utter stranger, without influence or recommendations, and +with no money to speak of at his back. +</P> + +<P> +But now he owned up, and there was no more need of shift or subterfuge: +now it was one rush and hurry to the end. He had capitulated; a +thin-skinned aversion to confronting difficulties, when he saw the +chance of avoiding them, had won the day. He intended—had perhaps the +whole time intended—to take the hand held out to him. After all, why +not? Anyone else, as Polly said, would have jumped at John's offer. He +alone must argue himself blue in the face over it. +</P> + +<P> +But as he sat and pondered the lengthy chain of circumstance—Polly's +share in it, John's, his own, even the part played by incorporeal +things—he brought up short against the word "decision". He might +flatter himself by imagining he had been free to decide; in reality +nothing was further from the truth. He had been subtly and slily guided +to his goal—led blindfold along a road that not of his choosing. +Everything and every one had combined to constrain him: his favours to +John, the failure of his business, Polly's inclinations and +persuasions, his own fastidious shrinkings. So that, in the end, all he +had had to do was to brush aside a flimsy gossamer veil, which hung +between him and his fate. Was it straining a point to see in the whole +affair the workings of a Power outside himself—against himself, in so +far as it took no count of his poor earth-blind vision? +</P> + +<P> +Well, if this were so, better still: his ways were in God's hand. And +after all, what did it matter where one strove to serve one's +Maker—east or west or south or north—and whether the stars overhead +were grouped in this constellation or in that? Their light was a pledge +that one would never be overlooked or forgotten, traced by the hand of +Him who had promised to note even a sparrow's fall. And here he spoke +aloud into the darkness the ancient and homely formula that is man's +stand-by in face of the untried, the unknown. +</P> + +<P> +"If God wills.... God knows best." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0301"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Part III +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter I +</H3> + +<P> +The house stood not far from the Great Swamp. It was of weather-board, +with a galvanised iron roof, and might have been built from a child's +drawing of a house: a door in the centre, a little window on either +side, a chimney at each end. Since the ground sloped downwards, the +front part rested on piles some three feet high, and from the rutty +clay-track that would one day be a street wooden steps led up to the +door. Much as Mahony would have liked to face it with a verandah, he +did not feel justified in spending more than he could help. And Polly +not only agreed with him, but contrived to find an advantage in the +plainer style of architecture. "Your plate will be better seen, +Richard, right on the street, than hidden under a verandah." But then +Polly was overflowing with content. Had not two of the rooms +fireplaces? And was there not a wash-house, with a real copper in it, +behind the detached kitchen? Not to speak of a spare room!—To the rear +of the house a high paling-fence enclosed a good-sized yard. Mahony +dreamed of a garden, Polly of keeping hens. +</P> + +<P> +There were no two happier people on Ballarat that autumn than the +Mahonys. To and fro they trudged down the hill, across the Flat, over +the bridge and up the other side; first, through a Sahara of dust, +then, when the rains began, ankle-deep in gluey red mud. And the +building of the finest mansion never gave half so much satisfaction as +did that of this flimsy little wooden house, with its thin +lath-and-plaster walls. In fancy they had furnished it and lived in it, +long before it was even roofed in. Mahony sat at work in his +surgery—it measured ten by twelve—Polly at her Berlin-woolwork in the +parlour opposite: "And a cage with a little parrot in it, hanging at +the window." +</P> + +<P> +The preliminaries to the change had gone smoothly enough—Mahony could +not complain. Pleasant they had not been; but could the arranging and +clinching of a complicated money-matter ever be pleasant? He had had to +submit to hearing his private affairs gone into by a stranger; to make +clear to strangers his capacity for earning a decent income. +</P> + +<P> +With John's promissory letter in his pocket, he had betaken himself to +Henry Ocock's office. +</P> + +<P> +This, notwithstanding its excellent position on the brow of the western +hill, could not deny its humble origin as a livery-barn. The entry was +by a yard; and some of the former horse-boxes had been rudely knocked +together to provide accommodation. Mahony sniffed stale dung. +</P> + +<P> +In what had once been the harness-room, two young men sat at work. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Tom, my lad, you here?" +</P> + +<P> +Tom Ocock raised his freckled face, from the chin of which sprouted +some long fair hairs, and turned red. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it's me. Do you want to see 'En—" at an open kick from his +brother—"Mr. Ocock?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you please." +</P> + +<P> +Informed by Grindle that the "Captain" was at liberty, Mahony passed to +an inner room where he was waved to a chair. In answer to his statement +that he had called to see about raising some money, Ocock returned an: +"Indeed? Money is tight, sir, very tight!" his face instantly taking on +the blank-wall solemnity proper to dealings with this world's main +asset. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony did not at once hand over John's way-soothing letter. He thought +he would first test the lawyer's attitude towards him in person—a +species of self-torment men of his make are rarely able to withstand. +He spoke of the decline of his business; of his idea of setting up as a +doctor and building himself a house; and, as he talked, he read his +answer pat and clear in the ferrety eyes before him. There was a bored +tolerance of his wordiness, an utter lack of interest in the concerns +of the petty tradesman. +</P> + +<P> +"H'm." Ocock, lying back in his chair, was fitting five outstretched +fingers to their fellows. "All very well, my good sir, but may I ask if +you have anyone in view as a security?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have. May I trouble you to glance through this?" and triumphantly +Mahony brandished John's letter. +</P> + +<P> +Ocock raised his brows. "What? Mr. John Turnham? Ah, very good ... very +good indeed!" The brazen-faced change in his manner would have made a +cat laugh; he sat upright, was interested, courteous, alert. "Quite in +order! And now, pray, how much do we need?" +</P> + +<P> +Unadvised, he had not been able, said Mahony, to determine the sum. So +Ocock took pencil and paper, and, prior to running off a reckoning, put +him through a sharp interrogation. Under it Mahony felt as though his +clothing was being stripped piece by piece off his back. At one moment +he stood revealed as mean and stingy, at another as an unpractical +spendthrift. More serious things came out besides. He began to see, +under the limelight of the lawyer's inquiry, in what a muddle-headed +fashion he had managed his business, and how unlikely it was he could +ever have made a good thing of it. Still worse was his thoughtless +folly in wedding and bringing home a young wife without, in this +settlement where accident was rife, where fires were of nightly +occurrence, insuring against either fire or death. Not that Ocock +breathed a hint of censure: all was done with a twist of the eye, a +purse of the lip; but it was enough for Mahony. He sat there, feeling +like an eel in the skinning, and did not attempt to keep pace with the +lawyer, who hunted figures into the centre of a woolly maze. +</P> + +<P> +The upshot of these calculations was: he would need help to the tune of +something over one thousand pounds. As matters stood at present on +Ballarat, said Ocock, the plainest house he could build would cost him +eight hundred; and another couple of hundred would go in furnishing; +while a saddle-horse might be put down at fifty pounds. On Turnham's +letter he, Ocock, would be prepared to borrow seven hundred for +him—and this could probably be obtained at ten per cent on a mortgage +of the house; and a further four hundred, for which he would have to +pay twelve or fifteen. Current expenses must be covered by the residue +of this savings, and by what he was able to make. They would include +the keep of the horse, and the interest on the borrowed money, which +might be reckoned roughly at a hundred and twenty per annum. In +addition, he would be well advised to insure his life for five to seven +hundred pounds. +</P> + +<P> +The question also came up whether the land he had selected for building +on should be purchased or not. He was for doing so, for settling the +whole business there and then. Ocock, however, took the opposite view. +Considering, said he, that the site chosen was far from the centre of +the town, Mahony might safely postpone buying in the meanwhile. There +had been no government land-sales of late, and all main-road frontages +had still to come under the hammer. As occupier, when the time arrived, +he would have first chance at the upset price; though then, it was +true, he would also be liable for improvements. The one thing he must +beware of was of enclosing too small a block. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony agreed—agreed to everything: the affair seemed to have passed +out of his hands. A sense of dismay invaded him while he listened to +the lawyer tick off the obligations and responsibilities he was letting +himself in for. A thousand pounds! He to run into debt for such a sum, +who had never owed a farthing to anyone! He fell to doubting whether, +after all, he had made choice of the easier way, and lapsed into a +gloomy silence. +</P> + +<P> +Ocock on the other hand warmed to geniality. +</P> + +<P> +"May I say, doctor, how wise I think your decision to come over to +us?"—He spoke as if Ballarat East were in the heart of the Russian +steppes. "And that reminds me. There's a friend of mine.... I may be +able at once to put a patient in your way." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony walked home in a mood of depression which it took all Polly's +arts to dispel. +</P> + +<P> +Under its influence he wrote an outspoken letter to Purdy—but with no +very satisfactory result. It was like projecting a feeler for sympathy +into the void, so long was it since they had met, and so widely had his +friend's life branched from his. +</P> + +<P> +Purdy's answer—it was headed "The Ovens"—did not arrive till several +weeks later, and was mainly about himself. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +IN A WAY I'M WITH YOU, OLD PILL-BOX, he wrote. YOU'LL CUT A JOLLY SIGHT +BETTER FIGURE AS AN M.D. THEN EVER YOU'VE DONE BEHIND A COUNTER. BUT I +DON'T KNOW THAT I'D CARE TO STAKE MY LAST DOLLAR ON YOU ALL THE SAME. +WHAT DOES MRS. POLLY SAY?—AS FOR ME, OLD BOY, SINCE YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH +TO ASK, WHY THE LESS SAID THE BETTER. ONE OF THESE DAYS A POOR WORN OLD +SHICER'LL COME CRAWLING ROUND TO YOUR BACK DOOR TO SEE IF YOU'VE ANY +CAST-OFF DUDS YOU CAN SPARE HIM. SERIOUSLY, DICK, OLD MAN, I'M +STONY-BROKE ONCE MORE AND THE LORD ONLY KNOWS HOW I'M GOING TO WIN +THROUGH. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In the course of that winter, custom died a natural death; and one day, +the few oddments that remained having been sold by auction, Mahony and +his assistant nailed boards horizontally across the entrance to the +store. The day of weighing out pepper and salt was over; never again +would the tinny jangle of the accursed bell smite his ears. The next +thing was that Hempel packed his chattels and departed for his new walk +in life. Mahony was not sorry to see him go. Hempel's thoughts had +soared far above the counter; he was arrived at the stage of: "I'm just +as good as you!" which everyone here reached sooner or later. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall always be pleased to hear how you are getting on." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony spoke kindly, but in a tone which, as Polly who stood by, very +well knew, people were apt to misunderstand. +</P> + +<P> +"I should think so!" she chimed in. "I shall feel very hurt indeed, +Hempel, if you don't come and see us." +</P> + +<P> +With regard to Long Jim, she had a talk with her husband one night as +they went to bed. +</P> + +<P> +"There really won't be anything for him to do in the new house. No +heavy crates or barrels to move about. And he doesn't know a thing +about horses. Why not let him go home?—he does so want to. What would +you say, dear, to giving him thirty pounds for his passage-money and a +trifle in his pocket? It would make him very happy, and he'd be off +your hands for good.—Of course, though, just as you think best." +</P> + +<P> +"We shall need every penny we can scrape together, for ourselves, +Polly. And yet, my dear, I believe you're right. In the new house, as +you say, he'll be a mere encumbrance. As for me, I'd be only too +thankful never to hear his cantankerous old pipe again. I don't know +now what evil genius prompted me to take him in." +</P> + +<P> +"Evil genius, indeed!" retorted Polly. "You did it because you're a +dear, good, kind-hearted man." +</P> + +<P> +"Think so, wifey? I'm inclined to put it down to sheer dislike of +botheration—Irish inertia ... the curse of our race." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes, I knoo you'd be wantin' to get rid o' me, now you're goin' +up in the world," was Long Jim's answer when Polly broached her scheme +for his benefit. "Well, no, I won't say anythin' against you, Mrs. +Mahony; you've treated me square enough. But doc., 'e's always thought +'imself a sight above one, an' when 'e does, 'e lets you feel it." +</P> + +<P> +This was more than Polly could brook. "And sighing and groaning as you +have done to get home, Jim! You're a silly, ungrateful old man, even to +hint at such a thing." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor old fellow, he's grumbled so long now, that he's forgotten how to +do anything else," she afterwards made allowance for him. And added, +pierced by a sudden doubt: "I hope his wife will still be used to it, +or ... or else ..." +</P> + +<P> +And now the last day in the old house was come. The furniture, stacked +in the yard, awaited the dray that was to transport it. Hardly worth +carrying with one, thought Mahony, when he saw the few poor sticks +exposed to the searching sunlight. Pipe in mouth he mooned about, +feeling chiefly amazed that he could have put up, for so long, with the +miserable little hut which his house, stripped of its trimmings, proved +to be. +</P> + +<P> +His reflections were cut short by old Ocock, who leaned over the fence +to bid his neighbours good-bye. +</P> + +<P> +"No disturbance! Come in, come in!" cried Mahony, with the rather +spurious heartiness one is prone to throw into a final invitation. And +Polly rose from her knees before a clothes-basket which she was filling +with crockery, and bustled away to fetch the cake she had baked for +such an occasion. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll miss yer bright little face, that I will!" said Mr. Ocock, as he +munched with the relish of a Jerry or a Ned. He held his slice of cake +in the hollow of one great palm, conveying with extreme care the pieces +he broke off to his mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"You must come and see us, as soon as ever we're settled." +</P> + +<P> +"Bless you! You'll soon find grander friends than an old chap like me." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Ocock! And you with three sons in the law!" +</P> + +<P> +"Besides, mark my words, it'll be your turn next to build," Mahony +removed his pipe to throw in. "We'll have you over with us yet." +</P> + +<P> +"And what a lovely surprise for Miss Amelia when she arrives, to find a +bran'-new house awaiting her." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that's the end of this little roof-tree," said Mahony.—The +loaded dray had driven off, the children and Ellen perched on top of +the furniture, and he was giving a last look round. "We've spent some +very happy days under it, eh, my dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, very," said Polly, shaking out her skirts. "But we shall be just +as happy in the new one." +</P> + +<P> +"God grant we may! It's not too much to hope I've now seen all the +downs of my life. I've managed to pack a good many into thirty short +years.— And that reminds me, Mrs. Townshend-Mahony, do you know you +will have been married to me two whole years, come next Friday?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, so we shall!" cried Polly, and was transfixed in the act of tying +her bonnet-strings. "How time does fly! It seems only the other day I +saw this room for the first time. I peeped in, you know, while you were +fetching the box. DO you remember how I cried, Richard? I was afraid of +a spider or something." And the Polly of eighteen looked back, with a +motherly amusement, at her sixteen-year-old eidolon. "But now, dear, if +you're ready ... or else the furniture will get there before we do. +We'd better take the short cut across Soldiers' Hill. That's the cat in +that basket, for you to carry, and here's your microscope. I've got the +decanter and the best teapot. Shall we go?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0302"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter II +</H3> + +<P> +And now for a month or more Mahony had been in possession of a room +that was all his own. Did he retire into it and shut the door, he could +make sure of not being disturbed. Polly herself tapped before entering; +and he let her do so. Polly was dear; but dearer still was his +long-coveted privacy. +</P> + +<P> +He knew, too, that she was happily employed; the fitting-up and +furnishing of the house was a job after her own heart. She had proved +both skilful and economical at it: thanks to her, they had used a bare +three-quarters of the sum allotted by Ocock for the purpose—and this +was well; for any number of unforeseen expenses had cropped up at the +last moment. Polly had a real knack for making things "do". Old empty +boxes, for instance, underwent marvellous transformations at her +hands—emerged, clad in chintz and muslin, as sofas and toilet-tables. +She hung her curtains on strings, and herself sewed the seams of the +parlour carpet, squatting Turk-fashion on the floor, and working away, +with a great needle shaped like a scimitar, till the perspiration ran +down her face. It was also she who, standing on the kitchen-table, put +up the only two pictures they possessed, Ned and Jerry giving opinions +on the straightness of her eye, from below: a fancy picture of the +Battle of Waterloo in the parlour; a print of "Harvey Discovering the +Circulation of the Blood" on the surgery wall. +</P> + +<P> +From where he sat Mahony could hear the voices of the children—John's +children—at play. They frolicked with Pompey in the yard. He could +endure them, now that he was not for ever tumbling over them. Yes, one +and all were comfortably established under the new roof—with the +exception of poor Palmerston the cat. Palmerston had declined to +recognise the change, and with the immoderate homing-instinct of his +kind had returned night after night to his old haunts. For some time +Mahony's regular evening walk was back to the store—a road he would +otherwise not have taken; for it was odious to him to see Polly's neat +little appointments going to rack and ruin, under the tenancy of a +dirty Irish family. There he would find the animal sitting, in +melancholy retrospect. Again and again he picked him up and carried him +home; till that night when no puss came to his call, and Palmerston, +the black and glossy, was seen no more: either he had fallen down a +shaft, or been mangled by a dog, or stolen, cats still fetching a high +price on Ballarat. +</P> + +<P> +The window of Mahony's room faced a wide view: not a fence, hardly a +bit of scrub or a tuft of grass-tree marked the bare expanse of uneven +ground, now baked brown as a piecrust by the December sun. He looked +across it to the cemetery. This was still wild and unfenced—just a +patch of rising ground where it was permissible to bury the dead. Only +the day before—the second anniversary of the Eureka Stockade—he had +watched some two to three hundred men, with crepe on their hats and +sleeves, a black-draped pole at their head, march there to do homage to +their fallen comrades. The dust raised by the shuffling of these many +feet had accompanied the procession like a moving cloud; had lingered +in its rear like the smoke from a fire. Drays and lorries crawled for +ever laboriously along it, seeming glued to the earth by the monstrous +sticky heat of the veiled sun. Further back rose a number of bald +hills—rounded, swelling hills, shaped like a woman's breasts. And +behind all, pale china-blue against the tense white sky, was the +embankment of the distant ranges. Except for these, an ugly, uninviting +outlook, and one to which he seldom lifted his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +His room pleased him better. Polly had stretched a bright green drugget +on the floor; the table had a green cloth on it; the picture showed up +well against the whitewashed wall. Behind him was a large deal +cupboard, which held instruments and drugs. The bookshelves with their +precious burden were within reach of his hand; on the top shelf he had +stacked the boxes containing his botanical and other specimens. +</P> + +<P> +The first week or so there was naturally little doing: a sprained wrist +to bandage, a tooth to draw, a case of fly-blight. To keep himself from +growing fidgety, he overhauled his minerals and butterflies, and +renewed faded labels. This done, he went on to jot down some ideas he +had, with regard to the presence of auriferous veins in quartz. It was +now generally agreed that quartz was the matrix; but on the question of +how the gold had found its way into the rock, opinions were sharply +divided. The theory of igneous injection was advanced by some; others +inclined to that of sublimation. Mahony leaned to a combination of the +two processes, and spent several days getting his thoughts in order; +while Polly, bursting with pride, went about on tiptoe audibly hushing +the children: their uncle was writing for the newspapers. +</P> + +<P> +Still no patients worth the name made their appearance. To fend off the +black worry that might get the better of him did he sit idle, he next +drew his Bible to him, and set about doing methodically what he had so +far undertaken merely by fits and starts—deciding for himself to what +degree the Scriptures were inspired. Polly was neither proud nor happy +while this went on, and let the children romp unchecked. At present it +was not so much the welfare of her husband's soul she feared for: God +must surely know by this time what a good man Richard was; he had not +his equal, she thought, for honesty and uprightness; he was kind to the +poor and the sick, and hadn't missed a single Sunday at church, since +their marriage. But all that would not help, if once he got the +reputation of being an infidel. Then, nobody would want him as a doctor +at all. +</P> + +<P> +Casually begun, Mahony's studies soon absorbed him to the exclusion of +everything else. +</P> + +<P> +Brought up in the cast-iron mould of Irish Protestantism, to which, +being of a sober and devout turn of mind, he had readily submitted, he +had been tossed, as a youthful student, into the freebooting Edinburgh +of the forties. Edinburgh was alive in those days to her very +paving-stones; town and university combined to form a hotbed of +intellectual unrest, a breeding-ground for disturbing possibilities. +The "development theory" was in the air; and a book that appeared +anonymously had boldly voiced, in popular fashion, Maillet's dream and +the Lamarckian hypothesis of a Creation undertaken once and for all, in +place of a continuous creative intenention. This book, opposing natural +law to miracle, carried complete conviction to the young and eager. +Audacious spirits even hazarded the conjecture that primitive life +itself might have originated in a natural way: had not, but recently, +an investigator who brought a powerful voltaic battery to bear on a +saturated solution of silicate of potash, been startled to find, as the +result of his experiment, numberless small mites of the species ACARUS +HORRIDUS? Might not the marvel electricity or galvanism, in action on +albumen, turn out to be the vitalising force? To the orthodox +zoologist, phytologist and geologist, such a suggestion savoured of +madness; they either took refuge in a contemptuous silence, or +condescended only to reply: Had one visited the Garden of Eden during +Creation, one would have found that, in the morning, man was not, while +in the evening he was!—morning and evening bearing their newly +established significance of geological epochs. The famous tracing of +the Creator's footsteps, undertaken by a gifted compromiser, was felt +by even the most bigoted to be a lame rejoinder. His ASTEROLEPSIS, the +giant fossil-fish from the Old Red Sandstone, the antiquity of which +should show that the origin of life was not to be found solely in +"infusorial points," but that highly developed forms were among the +earliest created—this single prop was admittedly not strong enough to +carry the whole burden of proof. No, the immutability of species had +been seriously impugned, and bold minds asked themselves why a single +act of creation, at the outset, should not constitute as divine an +origin of life as a continued series of "creative fiats." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony was one of them. The "development theory" did not repel him. He +could see no impiety in believing that life, once established on the +earth, had been left to perfect itself. Or hold that this would +represent the Divine Author of all things as, after one master-stroke, +dreaming away eternal ages in apathy and indifference. Why should the +perfect functioning of natural law not be as convincing an expression +of God's presence as a series of cataclysmic acts of creation? +</P> + +<P> +None the less it was a time of crisis, for him, as for so many. For, if +this were so, if science spoke true that, the miracle of life set +a-going, there had been no further intervention on the part of the +Creator, then the very head-and-corner stone of the Christian faith, +the Bible itself, was shaken. More, much more would have to go than the +Mosaic cosmogony of the first chapter of Genesis. Just as the Elohistic +account of creation had been stretched to fit the changed views of +geologists, so the greater part of the scriptural narratives stood in +need of a wider interpretation. The fable of the Eternal's personal +mediation in the affairs of man must be accepted for what it was—a +beautiful allegory, the fondly dreamed fulfilment of a world-old +desire. And bringing thus a sharpened critical sense to bear on the +Scriptures, Mahony embarked on his voyage of discovery. Before him, but +more as a warning than a beacon, shone the example of a famous German +savant, who, taking our Saviour's life as his theme, demolished the +sacred idea of a Divine miracle, and retold the Gospel story from a +rationalistic standpoint. A savagely unimaginative piece of work this, +thought Mahony, and one that laid all too little weight on the deeps of +poetry, the mysteries of symbols, and the power the human mind drew +from these, to pierce to an ideal truth. His own modest efforts would +be of quite another kind. +</P> + +<P> +For he sought, not to deny God, but to discover Him anew, by freeing +Him from the drift of error, superstition and dead-letterism which the +centuries had accumulated about Him. Far was it from His servant's mind +to wish to decry the authority of the Book of Books. This he believed +to consist, in great part, of inspired utterances, and, for the rest, +to be the wisest and ripest collection of moral precept and example +that had come down to us from the ages. Without it, one would be +rudderless indeed—a castaway in a cockleshell boat on a furious +sea—and from one's lips would go up a cry like to that wrung from a +famous infidel: "I am affrighted and confounded with the forlorn +solitude in which I am placed by my philosophy ... begin to fancy +myself in the most deplorable condition imaginable, environed by the +deepest darkness." +</P> + +<P> +No, Mahony was not one of those who held that the Christian faith, that +fine flower of man's spiritual need, would suffer detriment by the +discarding of a few fabulous tales; nor did he fear lest his own faith +should become undermined by his studies. For he had that in him which +told him that God was; and this instinctive certainty would persist, he +believed, though he had ultimately to admit the whole fabric of +Christianity to be based on the Arimathean's dream. It had already +survived the rejection of externals: the surrender of forms, the +assurance that ceremonials were not essential to salvation belonged to +his early student-days. Now, he determined to send by the board the +last hampering relics of bigotry and ritual. He could no longer concede +the tenets of election and damnation. God was a God of mercy, not the +blind, jealous Jahveh of the Jews, or the inhuman Sabbatarian of a +narrow Protestantism. And He might be worshipped anywhere or anyhow: in +any temple built to His name—in the wilderness under the open sky—in +silent prayer, or according to any creed. +</P> + +<P> +In all this critical readjustment, the thought he had to spare for his +fellow-men was of small account: his fate was not bound to theirs by +the altruism of a later generation. It was a time of intense +individualism; and his efforts towards spiritual emancipation were made +on his own behalf alone. The one link he had with his fellows—if link +it could be termed—was his earnest wish to avoid giving offence: never +would it have occurred to him to noise his heterodoxy abroad. Nor did +he want to disturb other people's convictions. He respected those who +could still draw support from the old faith, and, moreover, had not a +particle of the proselytiser in him. He held that religion was either a +matter of temperament, or of geographical distribution; felt tolerantly +inclined towards the Jews, and the Chinese; and did not even smile at +processions to the Joss-house, and the provisioning of those silent +ones who needed food no more. +</P> + +<P> +But just as little as he intermeddled with the convictions of others +would he brook interference with his own. It was the concern of no +third person what paths he followed in his journeyings after the +truth—in his quest for a panacea for the ills and delusions of life. +For, call it what he would—Biblical criticism, scientific +inquiry—this was his aim first and last. He was trying to pierce the +secret of existence—to rede the riddle that has never been +solved.—What am I? Whence have I come? Whither am I going? What +meaning has the pain I suffer, the evil that men do? Can evil be +included in God's scheme?—And it was well, he told himself, as he +pressed forward, that the flame in him burnt unwaveringly, which +assured him of his kinship with the Eternal, of the kinship of all +created things; so unsettling and perplexing were the conclusions at +which he arrived. +</P> + +<P> +Summoned to dinner, he sat at table with stupid hands and evasive eyes. +Little Johnny, who was, as Polly put it, "as sharp as mustard," was +prompt to note his uncle's vacancy. +</P> + +<P> +"What you staring at, Nunkey?" he demanded, his mouth full of +roly-pudding, which he was stuffing down with all possible dispatch. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush, Johnny. Don't tease your uncle." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean, my boy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean ..." Young John squeezed his last mouthful over his windpipe +and raised his plate. "I mean, you look just like you was seein' a +emeny.—More puddin', Aunt Polly!" +</P> + +<P> +"What does the child mean? An anemone?" +</P> + +<P> +"NO!" said John with the immense contempt of five years. "I didn't say +anner emeny." Here, he began to tuck in anew, aiding the slow work of +his spoon with his more habile fingers. "A emeny's d emeny. Like on de +pickshur in Aunt Polly's room. One ... one's de English, an' one's de +emeny." +</P> + +<P> +"It's the Battle of Waterloo," explained Polly. "He stands in front of +it every day." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. An' when I'm a big man, I'm goin' to be a sojer, an' wear a red +coat, an' make 'bung'!" and he shot an imaginary gun at his sister, who +squealed and ducked her head. +</P> + +<P> +"An ancient wish, my son," said Mahony, when Johnny had been reproved +and Trotty comforted. "Tom-thumbs like you have voiced it since the +world—or rather since war first began." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't care. Nunkey, why is de English and why is de emeny?" +</P> + +<P> +But Mahony shrank from the gush of whats and whys he would let loose on +himself, did he attempt to answer this question. "Come, shall uncle +make you some boats to sail in the wash-tub?" +</P> + +<P> +"Wiv a mast an' sails an' everyfing?" cried John wildly; and throwing +his spoon to the floor, he scrambled from his chair. "Oh yes, +Nunkey—dear Nunkey!" +</P> + +<P> +"Dea Unkey!" echoed the shadow. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you cupboard lovers, you!" said Mahony as, order restored and +sticky mouths wiped, two pudgy hands were thrust with a new kindness +into his. +</P> + +<P> +He led the way to the yard; and having whittled out for the children +some chips left by the builders, he lighted his pipe and sat down in +the shade of the house. Here, through a veiling of smoke, which hung +motionless in the hot, still air, he watched the two eager little +mortals before him add their quota to the miracle of life. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0303"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter III +</H3> + +<P> +Polly had no such absorbing occupation to tide her over these empty +days of waiting; and sometimes—especially late in the afternoon, when +her household duties were done, the children safely at play—she found +it beyond her power to stitch quietly at her embroidery. Letting the +canvas fall to her knee, she would listen, listen, listen till the +blood sang in her ears, for the footsteps and knocks at the door that +never came. And did she draw back the window-curtain and look out, +there was not a soul to be seen: not a trace of the string of +prosperous, paying patients she had once imagined winding their way to +the door. +</P> + +<P> +And meanwhile Richard was shut up in his room, making those dreadful +notes in the Bible which it pinched her heart even to think of. He +really did not seem to care whether he had a practice or not. All the +new instruments, got from Melbourne, lay unused in their casings; and +the horse was eating its head off, at over a pound a week, in the +livery-barn. Polly shrank from censuring her husband, even in thought; +but as she took up her work again, and went on producing in wools a +green basket of yellow fruit on a magenta ground, she could not help +reflecting what she would have done at this pass, had she been a man. +She would have announced the beginning of her practice in big letters +in the STAR, and she would have gone down into the township and mixed +with people and made herself known. With Richard, it was almost as if +he felt averse from bringing himself into public notice. +</P> + +<P> +Only another month now, and the second instalment of interest would +fall due. Polly did not know exactly what the sum was; but she did know +the date. The first time, they had had no difficulty in meeting the +bill, owing to their economy in furnishing. But what about this one, +and the next again? How were payments to be made, and kept up, if the +patients would not come? +</P> + +<P> +She wished with all her heart that she was ten years older. For what +could a person who was only eighteen be supposed to understand of +business? Richard's invariable answer, did she venture a word, was not +to worry her little head about such things. +</P> + +<P> +When, however, another week had dribbled away in the same fashion, +Polly began to be afraid the date of payment had slipped his memory +altogether. She would need to remind him of it, even at the risk of +vexing him. And having cast about for a pretext to intrude, she decided +to ask his advice on a matter that was giving her much uneasiness; +though, had he been REALLY busy, she would have gone on keeping it to +herself. +</P> + +<P> +It related to little Johnny. +</P> + +<P> +Johnny was a high-spirited, passionate child, who needed most careful +handling. At first she had managed him well enough. But ever since his +five months' boarding-out, he had fallen into deceitful ways; and the +habit of falsehood was gaining on him. Bad by nature, Polly felt sure +the child was not; but she could not keep him on the straight path now +he had discovered that a lie might save him a punishment. He was not to +be shamed out of telling it; and the only other cure Polly knew of was +whipping. She whipped him; and provoked him to fury. +</P> + +<P> +A new misdeed on his part gave her the handle she sought. Johnny had +surreptitiously entered her pantry and stolen a plateful of cakes. +Taxed with the theft he denied it; and cornered, laid, Adam-like, the +blame on his companion, asserting that Trotty had persuaded him to take +the goodies; though bewildered innocence was writ all over the baby's +chubby face. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony had the young sinner up before him. But he was able neither to +touch the child's heart, nor to make him see the gravity of what he had +done: never being allowed inside the surgery, John could now not take +his eyes off the wonderful display of gold and purple and red moths, +which were pinned, with outstretched wings, to a sheet of cork. He +stood o-mouthed and absentminded, and only once shot a blue glance at +his uncle to say: "But if dey're so baddy ... den why did God MAKE lies +an' de debble?"—which intelligent query hit the nail of one of +Mahony's own misgivings on the head. +</P> + +<P> +No real depravity, was his verdict. Still, too much of a handful, it +was plain, for Polly's inexperience. "A problem for John himself to +tackle, my dear. Why should we have to drill a non-existent morality +into his progeny? Besides, I'm not going to have you blamed for bad +results, later on." He would write to John there and then, and request +that Johnny be removed from their charge. +</P> + +<P> +Polly was not prepared for this summary solution of her dilemma, and +began to regret having brought it up; though she could not but agree +with Richard that it would never do for the younger child to be +corrupted by a bad example. However she kept her wits about her. Did +John take the boy away, said she, she was afraid she would have to ask +for a larger housekeeping allowance. The withdrawal of the money for +Johnny's board would make a difference to their income. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," returned Mahony easily, and was about to dismiss the +subject. +</P> + +<P> +But Polly stood her ground. "Talking of money, Richard, I don't know +whether you remember ... you've been so busy ... that it's only about a +fortnight now till the second lot of interest falls due." +</P> + +<P> +"What!—a fortnight?" exclaimed her husband, and reached out for an +almanack. "Good Lord, so it is! And nothing doing yet, Polly ... +absolutely nothing!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, dear, you can't expect to jump into a big practice all at once, +can you? But you see, I think the trouble is, not nearly enough people +know you've started." And a little imploringly, and very +apologetically, Polly unfolded her artless schemes for +self-advertisement. +</P> + +<P> +"Wife, I've a grave suspicion!" said Mahony, and took her by the chin. +"While I've sat here with my head in the clouds, you've been worrying +over ways and means, and over having such an unpractical old dreamer +for a husband. Now, child, that won't do. I didn't marry to have my +girl puzzling her little brains where her next day's dinner was to come +from. Away with you, to your stitching! Things will be all right, trust +to me." +</P> + +<P> +And Polly did trust him, and was so satisfied with what she had +effected that, raising her face for a kiss, she retired with an easy +mind to overhaul Johnny's little wardrobe. +</P> + +<P> +But the door having clicked behind her, Mahony's air of forced +assurance died away. For an instant he hesitated beside the table, on +which a rampart of books lay open, then vigorously clapped each volume +to and moved to the window, chewing at the ends of his beard. A timely +interruption! What the dickens had he been about, to forget himself in +this fool's paradise, when the crassest of material anxieties—that of +pounds, shillings and pence—was crouched, wolf-like, at his door? +</P> + +<P> +That night he wakened with a jerk from an uneasy sleep. Though at noon +the day before, the thermometer had registered over a hundred in the +shade, it was now bitterly cold, and these abrupt changes of +temperature always whipped up his nerves. Even after he had piled his +clothes and an opossum-rug on top of the blankets, he could not drop +off again. He lay staring at the moonlit square of the window, and +thinking the black thoughts of night. +</P> + +<P> +What if he could not manage to work up a practice? ... found it +impossible to make a living? His plate had been on the door for close +on two months now, and he had barely a five-pound note to show for it. +What was to be done? Here Polly's words came back to him with new +stress. "Not nearly enough people know you've started." That was +it!—Polly had laid her finger on the hitch. The genteel manners of the +old country did not answer here; instead of sitting twiddling his +thumbs, waiting for patients to seek him out, he ought to have adopted +the screaming methods of advertisement in vogue on Ballarat. To have +had "Holloway's Pills sold here!" "Teeth extracted painlessly!" "Cures +guaranteed!" painted man-high on his outside house-wall. To have gone +up and down and round the township; to have been on the spot when +accidents happened; to have hobnobbed with Tom, Dick and Harry in bars +and saloons. And he saw a figure that looked like his the centre of a +boisterous crowd; saw himself slapped on the back by dirty hands, +shouting and shouted to drinks. He turned his pillow, to drive the +image away. Whatever he had done or not done, the fact remained that a +couple of weeks hence he had to make up the sum of over thirty pounds. +And again he discerned a phantom self, this time a humble supplicant +for an extension of term, brought up short against Ocock's stony +visage, flouted by his cocksy clerk. Once more he turned his pillow. +These quarterly payments, which dotted all his coming years, were like +little rock-islands studding the surface of an ocean, and telling of +the sunken continent below: this monstrous thousand odd pounds he had +been fool enough to borrow. Never would he be able to pay off such a +sum, never again be free from the incubus of debt. Meanwhile, not the +ground he stood on, not the roof over his head could actually be called +his own. He had also been too pushed for money, at the time, to take +Ocock's advice and insure his life. +</P> + +<P> +These thoughts spun themselves to a nightmare-web, in which he was the +hapless fly. Putting a finger to his wrist, he found he had the pulse +of a hundred that was not uncommon to him. He got out of bed, to dowse +his head in a basin of water. Polly, only half awake, sat up and said: +"What's the matter, dear? Are you ill?" In replying to her he disturbed +the children, the door of whose room stood ajar; and by the time quiet +was restored, further sleep was out of the question. He dressed and +quitted the house. +</P> + +<P> +Day was breaking; the moon, but an hour back a globe of polished +silver, had now no light left in her, and stole, a misty ghost, across +the dun-coloured sky. A bank of clouds that had had their night-camp on +the summit of Mount Warrenheip was beginning to disperse; and the air +had lost its edge. He walked out beyond the cemetary, then sat down on +a tree-stump and looked back. The houses that nestled on the slope were +growing momently whiter; but the Flat was still sunk in shadow and +haze, making old Warrenheip, for all its half-dozen miles of distance, +seem near enough to be touched by hand. But even in full daylight this +woody peak had a way of tricking the eye. From the brow of the western +hill, with the Flat out of sight below, it appeared to stand at the +very foot of those streets that headed east—first of one, then of +another, moving with you as you changed position, like the eyes of a +portrait that follow you wherever you go.—And now the sky was streaked +with crimson-madder; the last clouds scattered, drenched in orange and +rose, and flames burned in the glass of every window-pane. Up came the +tip of the sun's rim, grew to a fiery quarter, to a half; till, +bounding free from the horizon, it began to mount and to lose its girth +in the immensity of the sky. +</P> + +<P> +The phantasms of the night yielded like the clouds to its power. He was +still reasonably young, reasonably sound, and had the better part of a +lifetime before him. Rising with a fresh alacrity, he whistled to his +dog, and walked briskly home to bath and breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +But that evening, at the heel of another empty day, his nervous +restlessness took him anew. From her parlour Polly could hear the thud +of his feet, going up and down, up and down his room. And it was she +who was to blame for disturbing him! +</P> + +<P> +"Yet what else could I do?" +</P> + +<P> +And meditatively pricking her needle in and out of the window-curtain, +Polly fell into a reverie over her husband and his ways. How strange +Richard was ... how difficult! First, to be able to forget all about +how things stood with him, and then to be twice as upset as other +people. +</P> + +<P> +John demanded the immediate delivery of his young son, undertaking soon +to knock all nasty tricks out of him. On the day fixed for Johnny's +departure husband and wife were astir soon after dawn. Mahony was to +have taken the child down to the coach-office. But Johnny had been +awake since two o'clock with excitement, and was now so fractious that +Polly tied on her bonnet and accompanied them. She knew Richard's +hatred of a scene. +</P> + +<P> +"You just walk on, dear, and get his seat," she said, while she dragged +the cross, tired child on her hand to the public-house, where even at +this hour a posse of idlers hung about. +</P> + +<P> +And she did well to be there. Instantly on arriving Johnny set up a +wail, because there was talk of putting him inside the vehicle; and +this persisted until the coachman, a goat-bearded Yankee, came to the +rescue and said he was darned if such a plucky young nipper shouldn't +get his way: he'd have the child tied on beside him on the box-seat—be +blowed if he wouldn't! But even this did not satisfy Johnny; and while +Mahony went to procure a length of rope, he continued to prance round +his aunt and to tug ceaselessly at her sleeve. +</P> + +<P> +"Can I dwive, Aunt Polly, can I dwive? Ask him, can I dwive!" he +roared, beating her skirts with his fists. He was only silenced by the +driver threatening to throw him as a juicy morsel to the gang of +bushrangers who, sure as blazes, would be waiting to stick the coach up +directly it entered the bush. +</P> + +<P> +Husband and wife lingered to watch the start, when the champing horses +took a headlong plunge forward and, together with the coach, were +swallowed up in a whirlwind of dust. A last glimpse discovered Johnny, +pale and wide-eyed at the lurching speed, but sitting bravely erect. +</P> + +<P> +"The spirit of your brother in that child, my dear!" said Mahony as +they made to walk home. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor little Johnny," and Polly wiped her eyes. "If only he was going +back to a mother who loved him, and would understand." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure no mother could have done more for him than you, love." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but a real mother wouldn't need to give him up, however naughty +he had been." +</P> + +<P> +"I think the young varmint might have shown some regret at parting from +you, after all this time," returned her husband, to whom it was +offensive if even a child was lacking in good feeling. "He never turned +his head. Well, I suppose it's a fact, as they say, that the natural +child is the natural barbarian." +</P> + +<P> +"Johnny never meant any harm. It was I who didn't know how to manage +him," said Polly staunchly.—"Why, Richard, what IS the matter?" For +letting her arm fall Mahony had dashed to the other side of the road. +</P> + +<P> +"Good God, Polly, look at this!" +</P> + +<P> +"This" was a printed notice, nailed to a shed, which announced that a +sale of frontages in Mair and Webster Streets would shortly be held. +</P> + +<P> +"But it's not our road. I don't understand." +</P> + +<P> +"Good Lord, don't you see that if they're there already, they'll be out +with us before we can say Jack Robinson? And then where shall I be?" +gave back Mahony testily. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us talk it over. But first come home and have breakfast. Then ... +yes, then, I think you should go down and see Mr. Henry, and hear what +he says." +</P> + +<P> +"You're right. I must see Ocock.—Confound the fellow! It's he who has +let me in for this." +</P> + +<P> +"And probably he'll know some way out. What else is a lawyer for, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Quite true, my Polly. None the less, it looks as if I were in for a +run of real bad luck, all along the line." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0304"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter IV +</H3> + +<P> +One hot morning some few days later, Polly, with Trotty at her side, +stood on the doorstep shading her eyes with her hand. She was on the +look-out for her "vegetable man," who drove in daily from the Springs +with his greenstuff. He was late as usual: if Richard would only let +her deal with the cheaper, more punctual Ah Sing, who was at this +moment coming up the track. But Devine was a reformed character: after, +as a digger, having squandered a fortune in a week, he had given up the +drink and, backed by a hard-working, sober wife, was now trying to earn +a living at market-gardening. So he had to be encouraged. +</P> + +<P> +The Chinaman jog-trotted towards them, his baskets a-sway, his mouth +stretched to a friendly grin. "You no want cabbagee to-day? Me got +velly good cabbagee," he said persuasively and lowered his pole. +</P> + +<P> +"No thank you, John, not to-day. Me wait for white man." +</P> + +<P> +"Me bling pleasant for lilly missee," said the Chow; and unknotting a +dirty nosecloth, he drew from it an ancient lump of candied ginger. +"Lilly missee eatee him ... oh, yum, yum! Velly good. My word!" +</P> + +<P> +But Chinamen to Trotty were fearsome bogies, corresponding to the +swart-faced, white-eyed chimney-sweeps of the English nursery. She hid +behind her aunt, holding fast to the latter's skirts, and only stealing +an occasional peep from one saucer-like blue eye. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, John. Me takee chowchow for lilly missee," said Polly, who +had experience in disposing of such savoury morsels. +</P> + +<P> +"You no buy cabbagee to-day?" repeated Ah Sing, with the catlike +persistence of his race. And as Polly, with equal firmness and +good-humour, again shook her head, he shouldered his pole and departed +at a half-run, crooning as he went. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile at the bottom of the road another figure had come into view. +It was not Devine in his spring-cart; it was some one on horseback, was +a lady, in a holland habit. The horse, a piebald, advanced at a sober +pace, and—"Why, good gracious! I believe she's coming here." +</P> + +<P> +At the first of the three houses the rider had dismounted, and knocked +at the door with the butt of her whip. After a word with the woman who +opened, she threw her riding-skirt over one arm, put the other through +the bridle, and was now making straight for them. +</P> + +<P> +As she drew near she smiled, showing a row of white teeth. "Does Dr. +Mahony live here?" +</P> + +<P> +Misfortune of misfortunes!—Richard was out. +</P> + +<P> +But almost instantly Polly grasped that this would tell in his favour. +"He won't be long, I know." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder," said the lady, "if he would come out to my house when he +gets back? I am Mrs Glendinning—of Dandaloo." +</P> + +<P> +Polly flushed, with sheer satisfaction: Dandaloo was one of the largest +stations in the neighbourhood of Ballarat. "Oh, I'm certain he will," +she answered quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"I am so glad you think so," said Mrs. Glendinning. "A mutual friend, +Mr. Henry Ocock, tells me how clever he is." +</P> + +<P> +Polly's brain leapt at the connection; on the occasion of Richard's +last visit the lawyer had again repeated the promise to put a patient +in his way. Ocock was one of those people, said Richard, who only +remembered your existence when he saw you.—Oh, what a blessing in +disguise had been that troublesome old land sale! +</P> + +<P> +The lady had stooped to Trotty, whom she was trying to coax from her +lurking-place. "What a darling! How I envy you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Have you no children?" Polly asked shyly, when Trotty's relationship +had been explained. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, a boy. But I should have liked a little girl of my own. Boys are +so difficult," and she sighed. +</P> + +<P> +The horse nuzzling for sugar roused Polly to a sense of her remissness. +"Won't you come in and rest a little, after your ride?" she asked; and +without hesitation Mrs. Glendinning said she would like to, very much +indeed; and tying the hone to the fence, she followed Polly into the +house. +</P> + +<P> +The latter felt proud this morning of its apple-pie order. She drew up +the best armchair, placed a footstool before it and herself carried in +a tray with refreshments. Mrs. Glendinning had taken Trotty on her lap, +and given the child her long gold chains to play with. Polly thought +her the most charming creature in the world. She had a slender waist, +and an abundant light brown chignon, and cheeks of a beautiful pink, in +which two fascinating dimples came and went. The feather from her +riding-hat lay on her neck. Her eyes were the colour of forget-me-nots, +her mouth was red as any rose. She had, too, so sweet and natural a +manner that Polly was soon chatting frankly about herself and her life, +Mrs. Glendinning listening with her face pressed to the spun-glass of +Trotty's hair. +</P> + +<P> +When she rose, she clasped both Polly's hands in hers. "You dear little +woman... may I kiss you? I am ever so much older than you." +</P> + +<P> +"I am eighteen," said Polly. +</P> + +<P> +"And I on the shady side of twenty-eight!" +</P> + +<P> +They laughed and kissed. "I shall ask your husband to bring you out to +see me. And take no refusal. AU REVOIR!" and riding off, she turned in +the saddle and waved her hand. +</P> + +<P> +For all her pleasurable excitement Polly did not let the grass grow +under her feet. There being still no sign of Richard—he had gone to +Soldiers' Hill to extract a rusty nail from a child's foot—Ellen was +sent to summon him home; and when the girl returned with word that he +was on the way, Polly dispatched her to the livery-barn, to order the +horse to be got ready. +</P> + +<P> +Richard took the news coolly. "Did she say what the matter was?" +</P> + +<P> +No, she hadn't; and Polly had not liked to ask her; it could surely be +nothing very serious, or she would have mentioned it. +</P> + +<P> +"H'm. Then it's probably as I thought. Glendinning's failing is well +known. Only the other day, I heard that more than one medical man had +declined to have anything further to do with the case. It's a long way +out, and fees are not always forthcoming. HE doesn't ask for a doctor, +and, womanlike, she forgets to pay the bills. I suppose they think +they'll try a greenhorn this time." +</P> + +<P> +Pressed by Polly, who was curious to learn everything about her new +friend, he answered: "I should be sorry to tell you, my dear, how many +bottles of brandy it is Glendinning's boast he can empty in a week." +</P> + +<P> +"Drink? Oh, Richard, how terrible! And that pretty, pretty woman!" +cried Polly, and drove her thoughts backwards: she had seen no hint of +tragedy in her caller's lovely face. However, she did not wait to +ponder, but asked, a little anxiously: "But you'll go, dear, won't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Go? Of course I shall! Beggars can't be choosers." "Besides, you know, +you MIGHT be able to do something where other people have failed." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony rode out across the Flat. For a couple of miles his route was +one with the Melbourne Road, on which plied the usual motley traffic. +Then, branching off at right angles, it dived into the bush—in this +case a scantly wooded, uneven plain, burnt tobacco-brown and hard as +iron. +</P> + +<P> +Here went no one but himself. He and the mare were the sole living +creatures in what, for its stillness, might have been a painted +landscape. Not a breath of air stirred the weeping grey-green foliage +of the gums; nor was there any bird-life to rustle the leaves, or peck, +or chirrup. Did he draw rein, the silence was so intense that he could +almost hear it. +</P> + +<P> +On striking the outlying boundary of Dandaloo, he dismounted to slip a +rail. After that he was in and out of the saddle, his way leading +through numerous gateless paddocks before it brought him up to the +homestead. +</P> + +<P> +This, a low white wooden building, overspread by a broad verandah—from +a distance it looked like an elongated mushroom—stood on a hill. At +the end, the road had run alongside a well-stocked fruit and +flower-garden; but the hillside itself, except for a gravelled walk in +front of the house, was uncultivated—was given over to dead thistles +and brown weeds. +</P> + +<P> +Fastening his bridle to a post, Mahony unstrapped his bag of +necessaries and stepped on to the verandah. A row of French windows +stood open; but flexible green sun-blinds hid the rooms from view. The +front door was a French window, too, differing from the rest only in +its size. There was neither bell nor knocker. While he was rapping with +the knuckles on the panel, one of the blinds was pushed aside and Mrs. +Glendinning came out. +</P> + +<P> +She was still in hat and riding-habit; had herself, she said, reached +home but half an hour ago. Summoning a station-hand to attend to the +horse, she raised a blind and ushered Mahony into the dining-room, +where she had been sitting at lunch, alone at the head of a large +table. A Chinaman brought fresh plates, and Mahony was invited to draw +up his chair. He had an appetite after his ride; the room was cool and +dark; there were no flies. +</P> + +<P> +Throughout the meal, the lady kept up a running fire of talk—the +graceful chitchat that sits so well on pretty lips. She spoke of the +coming Races; of the last Government House Ball; of the untimely death +of Governor Hotham. To Mahony she instinctively turned a different side +out, from that which had captured Polly. With all her well-bred ease, +there was a womanly deference in her manner, a readiness to be swayed, +to stand corrected. The riding-dress set off her figure; and her +delicate features were perfectly chiselled. ("Though she'll be florid +before she's forty.") +</P> + +<P> +Some juicy nectarines finished, she pushed back her chair. "And now, +doctor, will you come and see your patient?" +</P> + +<P> +Mahony followed her down a broad, bare passage. A number of rooms +opened off it, but instead of entering one of these she led him out to +a back verandah. Here, before a small door, she listened with bent +head, then turned the handle and went in. +</P> + +<P> +The room was so dark that Mahony could see nothing. Gradually he made +out a figure lying on a stretcher-bed. A watcher sat at the bedside. +The atmosphere was more than close, smelt rank and sour. His first +request was for light and air. +</P> + +<P> +It was the wreck of a fine man that lay there, strapped over the chest, +bound hand and foot to the framework of the bed. The forehead, on which +the hair had receded to a few mean grey wisps, was high and domed, the +features were straight with plenty of bone in them, the shoulders +broad, the arms long. The skin of the face had gone a mahogany brown +from exposure, and a score of deep wrinkles ran out fan-wise from the +corners of the closed lids. Mahony untied the dirty towels that formed +the bandages—they had cut ridges in the limbs they confined—and took +one of the heavy wrists in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"How long has he lain like this?" he asked, as he returned the arm to +its place. +</P> + +<P> +"How long is it, Saunderson?" asked Mrs. Glendinning. She had sat down +on a chair at the foot of the bed; her skirts overflowed the floor. +</P> + +<P> +The watcher guessed it would be since about the same time yesterday. +</P> + +<P> +"Was he unusually violent on this occasion?—for I presume such attacks +are not uncommon with him," continued Mahony, who had meanwhile made a +superficial examination of the sick man. +</P> + +<P> +"I am sorry to say they are only too common, doctor," replied the +lady.—"Was he worse than usual this time, Saunderson?" she turned +again to the man; at which fresh proof of her want of knowledge Mahony +mentally raised his eyebrows. +</P> + +<P> +"To say trewth, I never see'd the boss so bad before," answered +Saunderson solemnly, grating the palms of the big red hands that hung +down between his knees. "And I've helped him through the jumps more'n +once. It's my opinion it would ha' been a narrow squeak for him this +time, if me and a mate hadn't nipped in and got these bracelets on him. +There he was, ravin' and sweatin' and cursin' his head off, grey as +death. Hell-gate, he called it, said he was devil's-porter at +hell-gate, and kept hollerin' for napkins and his firesticks. Poor ol' +boss! It WAS hell for him and no mistake!" +</P> + +<P> +By dint of questioning Mahony elicited the fact that Glendinning had +been unseated by a young horse, three days previously. At the time, no +heed was paid to the trifling accident. Later on, however, complaining +of feeling cold and unwell, he went to bed, and after lying wakeful for +some hours was seized by the horrors of delirium. +</P> + +<P> +Requesting the lady to leave them, Mahony made a more detailed +examination. His suspicions were confirmed: there was internal trouble +of old standing, rendered acute by the fall. Aided by Saunderson, he +worked with restoratives for the best part of an hour. In the end he +had the satisfaction of seeing the coma pass over into a natural repose. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, he's through this time, but I won't answer for the next," he +said, and looked about him for a basin in which to wash his hands. +"Can't you manage to keep the drink from him?—or at least to limit +him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, the Almighty Himself couldn't do that," gave back Saunderson, +bringing forward soap and a tin dish. +</P> + +<P> +"How does it come that he lies in a place like this?" asked Mahony, as +he dried his hands on a corner of the least dirty towel, and glanced +curiously round. The room—in size it did not greatly exceed that of a +ship's-cabin—was in a state of squalid disorder. Besides a deal table +and a couple of chairs, its main contents were rows and piles of old +paper-covered magazines, the thick brown dust on which showed that they +had not been moved for months—or even years. The whitewashed walls +were smoke-tanned and dotted with millions of fly-specks; the dried +corpses of squashed spiders formed large black patches; all four +corners of the ceiling were festooned with cobwebs. +</P> + +<P> +Saunderson shrugged his shoulders. "This was his den when he first was +manager here, in old Morrison's time, and he's stuck to it ever since. +He shuts himself up in here, and won't have a female cross the +threshold—nor yet Madam G. herself." +</P> + +<P> +Having given final instructions, Mahony went out to rejoin the lady. +</P> + +<P> +"I will not conceal from you that your husband is in a very precarious +condition." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean, doctor, he won't live long?" She had evidently been lying +down: one side of her face was flushed and marked. Crying, too, or he +was much mistaken: her lids were red-rimmed, her shapely features +swollen. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, you ask too much of me; I am only a woman; I have no influence +over him," she said sadly, and shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"What is his age?" +</P> + +<P> +"He is forty-seven." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony had put him down for at least ten years older, and said so. But +the lady was not listening: she fidgeted with her lace-edged +handkerchief, looked uneasy, seemed to be in debate with herself. +Finally she said aloud: "Yes, I will." And to him: "Doctor, would you +come with me a moment?" +</P> + +<P> +This time she conducted him to a well-appointed bedchamber, off which +gave a smaller room, containing a little four-poster draped in dimity. +With a vague gesture in the direction of the bed, she sank on a chair +beside the door. +</P> + +<P> +Drawing the curtains Mahony discovered a fair-haired boy of some eight +or nine years old. He lay with his head far back, his mouth wide +open—apparently fast asleep. +</P> + +<P> +But the doctor's eye was quick to see that it was no natural sleep. +"Good God! who is responsible for this?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Glendinning held her handkerchief to her face. "I have never told +any one before," she wept. "The shame of it, doctor ... is more than I +can bear." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is the blackguard? Come, answer me, if you please!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, doctor, don't scold me... I am so unhappy." The pretty face +puckered and creased; the full bosom heaved. "He is all I have. And +such a bright, clever little fellow! You will cure him for me, won't +you?" +</P> + +<P> +"How often has it happened?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know ... about five or six times, I think ... perhaps more. +There's a place not far from here where he can get it ... an old +hut-cook my husband dismissed once, in a fit of temper—he has oh such +a temper! Eddy saddles his pony and rides out there, if he's not +watched; and then ... then, they bring him back ... like this." +</P> + +<P> +"But who supplies him with money?" +</P> + +<P> +"Money? Oh, but doctor, he can't be kept without pocket-money! He has +always had as much as he wanted.—No, it is all my husband's +doing,"—and now she broke out in one of those shameless confessions, +from which the medical adviser is never safe. "He hates me; he is only +happy if he can hurt me and humiliate me. I don't care what becomes of +him. The sooner he dies the better!" +</P> + +<P> +"Compose yourself, my dear lady. Later you may regret such hasty +words.—And what has this to do with the child? Come, speak out. It +will be a relief to you to tell me." +</P> + +<P> +"You are so kind, doctor," she sobbed, and drank, with hysterical +gurglings, the glass of water Mahony poured out for her. "Yes, I will +tell you everything. It began years ago—when Eddy was only a tot in +jumpers. It used to amuse my husband to see him toss off a glass of +wine like a grown-up person; and it WAS comical, when he sipped it, and +smacked his lips. But then he grew to like it, and to ask for it, and +be cross when he was refused. And then... then he learnt how to get it +for himself. And when his father saw I was upset about it, he egged him +on—gave it to him on the sly.—Oh, he is a bad man, doctor, a BAD, +cruel man! He says such wicked things, too. He doesn't believe in God, +or that it is wrong to take one's own life, and he says he never wanted +children. He jeers at me because I am fond of Eddy, and because I go to +church when I can, and says ... oh, I know I am not clever, but I am +not quite such a fool as he makes me out to be. He speaks to me as if I +were the dirt under his feet. He can't bear the sight of me. I have +heard him curse the day he first saw me. And so he's only too glad to +be able to come between my boy and me ... in any way he can." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony led the weeping woman back to the dining-room. There he sat +long, patiently listening and advising; sat, till Mrs. Glendinning had +dried her eyes and was her charming self once more. +</P> + +<P> +The gist of what he said was, the boy must be removed from home at +once, and placed in strict, yet kind hands. +</P> + +<P> +Here, however, he ran up against a weak maternal obstinacy. "Oh, but I +couldn't part from Eddy. He is all I have.... And so devoted to his +mammy." +</P> + +<P> +As Mahony insisted, she looked the picture of helplessness. "But I +should have no idea how to set about it. And my husband would put every +possible obstacle in the way." +</P> + +<P> +"With your permission I will arrange the matter myself." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, how kind you are!" cried Mrs. Glendinning again. "But mind, +doctor, it must be somewhere where Eddy will lack none of the comforts +he is accustomed to, and where his poor mammy can see him whenever she +wishes. Otherwise he will fret himself ill." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony promised to do his best to satisfy her, and declining, very +curtly, the wine she pressed on him, went out to mount his horse which +had been brought round. +</P> + +<P> +Following him on to the verandah, Mrs. Glendinning became once more the +pretty woman frankly concerned for her appearance. "I don't know how I +look, I'm sure," she said apologetically, and raised both hands to her +hair. "Now I will go and rest for an hour. There is to be opossuming +and a moonlight picnic to-night at Warraluen." Catching Mahony's eye +fixed on her with a meaning emphasis, she changed colour. "I cannot sit +at home and think, doctor. I MUST distract myself; or I should go mad." +</P> + +<P> +When he was in the saddle she showed him her dimples again, and her +small, even teeth. "I want you to bring your wife to see me next time +you come," she sad, patting the horse's neck. "I took a great fancy to +her—a sweet little woman!" +</P> + +<P> +But Mahony, jogging downhill, said to himself he would think twice +before introducing Polly there. His young wife's sunny, girlish outlook +should not, with his consent, be clouded by a knowledge of the sordid +things this material prosperity hid from view. A whited sepulchre +seemed to him now the richly appointed house, the well-stocked gardens, +the acres on acres of good pasture-land: a fair outside when, within, +all was foul. He called to mind what he knew by hearsay of the owner. +Glendinning was one of the pioneer squatters of the district, had held +the run for close on fifteen years. Nowadays, when the land round was +entirely taken up, and a place like Ballarat stood within +stone's-throw, it was hard to imagine the awful solitude to which the +early settlers had been condemned. Then, with his next neighbour miles +and miles away, Melbourne, the nearest town, a couple of days' ride +through trackless bush, a man was a veritable prisoner in this desert +of paddocks, with not a soul to speak to but rough station-hands, and +nothing to occupy his mind but the damage done by summer droughts and +winter floods. No support or comradeship in the wife either—this poor +pretty foolish little woman: "With the brains of a pigeon!" Glendinning +had the name of being intelligent: was it, under these circumstances, +matter for wonder that he should seek to drown doubts, memories, +inevitable regrets; should be led on to the bitter discovery that +forgetfulness alone rendered life endurable? Yes, there was something +sinister in the dead stillness of the melancholy bush; in the harsh, +merciless sunlight of the late afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +A couple of miles out his horse cast a shoe, and it was evening before +he reached home. Polly was watching for him on the doorstep, in a +twitter lest some accident had happened or he had had a brush with +bushrangers. +</P> + +<P> +"It never rains but it pours, dear!" was her greeting: he had been +twice sent for to the Flat, to attend a woman in labour.—And with +barely time to wash the worst of the ride's dust off him, he had to +pick up his bag and hurry away. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0305"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter V +</H3> + +<P> +"A very striking-looking man! With perfect manners—and beautiful +hands." +</P> + +<P> +Her head bent over her sewing, Polly repeated these words to herself +with a happy little smile. They had been told her, in confidence, by +Mrs. Glendinning, and had been said by this lady's best friend, Mrs. +Urquhart of Yarangobilly: on the occasion of Richard's second call at +Dandaloo, he had been requested to ride to the neighbouring station to +visit Mrs. Urquhart, who was in delicate health. And of course Polly +had passed the flattering opinion on; for, though she was rather a good +hand at keeping a secret—Richard declared he had never known a +better—yet that secret did not exist—or up till now had not +existed—which she could imagine herself keeping from him. +</P> + +<P> +For the past few weeks these two ladies had vied with each other in +singing Richard's praises, and in making much of Polly: the second time +Mrs. Glendinning called she came in her buggy, and carried off Polly, +and Trotty, too, to Yarangobilly, where there was a nestful of little +ones for the child to play with. Another day a whole brakeful of lively +people drove up to the door in the early morning, and insisted on Polly +accompanying them, just as she was, to the Racecourse on the road to +Creswick's Creek. And everybody was so kind to her that Polly heartily +enjoyed herself, in spite of her plain print dress. She won a pair of +gloves and a piece of music in a philippine with Mr Urquhart, a jolly, +carroty-haired man, beside whom she sat on the box-seat coming home; +and she was lucky enough to have half-a-crown on one of the winners. An +impromptu dance was got up that evening by the merry party, in a hall +in the township; and Polly had the honour of a turn with Mr. Henry +Ocock, who was most affable. Richard also looked in for an hour towards +the end, and valsed her and Mrs. Glendinning round. +</P> + +<P> +Polly had quite lost her heart to her new friend. At the outset Richard +had rather frowned on the intimacy—but then he was a person given to +taking unaccountable antipathies. In this case, however, he had to +yield; for not only did a deep personal liking spring up between the +two women, but a wave of pity swept over Polly, blinding her to more +subtle considerations. Before Mrs. Glendinning had been many times at +the house, she had poured out all her troubles to Polly, impelled +thereto by Polly's quick sympathy and warm young eyes. Richard had +purposely given his wife few details of his visits to Dandaloo; but +Mrs. Glendinning knew no such scruples, and cried her eyes out on +Polly's shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +What a dreadful man the husband must be! "For she really is the dearest +little woman, Richard. And means so well with every one—I've never +heard her say a sharp or unkind word.—Well, not very clever, perhaps. +But everybody can't be clever, can they? And she's good—which is +better. The only thing she seems a teeny-weeny bit foolish about is her +boy. I'm afraid she'll never consent to part with him."—Polly said +this to prepare her husband, who was in correspondence on the subject +with Archdeacon Long and with John in Melbourne. Richard was putting +himself to a great deal of trouble, and would naturally be vexed if +nothing came of it. +</P> + +<P> +Polly paid her first visit to Dandaloo with considerable trepidation. +For Mrs. Urquhart, who herself was happily married—although, it was +true, her merry, red-haired husband had the reputation of being a +LITTLE too fond of the ladies, and though he certainly did not make +such a paying concern of Yarangobilly as Mr. Glendinning of +Dandaloo—Mrs. Urquhart had whispered to Polly as they sat chatting on +the verandah: "Such a DREADFUL man, my dear! ... a perfect brute! Poor +little Agnes. It is wonderful how she keeps her spirits up." +</P> + +<P> +Polly, however, was in honour bound to admit that to her the owner of +Dandaloo had appeared anything but the monster report made him out to +be. He was perfectly sober the day she was there, and did not touch +wine at luncheon; and afterwards he had been most kind, taking her with +him on a quiet little broad-backed mare to an outlying part of the +station, and giving her several hints how to improve her seat. He was +certainly very haggard-looking, and deeply wrinkled, and at table his +hand shook so that the water in his glass ran over. But all this only +made Polly feel sorry for him, and long to help him. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, you ARE favoured! I never knew James make such an offer +before," whispered Mrs. Glendinning, as she pinned her ample +riding-skirt round her friend's slim hips. +</P> + +<P> +The one thing about him that disturbed Polly was his manner towards his +wife: he was savagely ironic with her, and trampled hobnailed on her +timid opinions. But then Agnes didn't know how to treat him, Polly soon +saw that: she was nervous and fluttery—evasive, too; and once during +lunch even told a deliberate fib. Slight as was her acquaintance with +him, Polly felt sure this want of courage must displease him; for there +was something very simple and direct about his own way of speaking. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, why don't you stand up to him?" asked little Polly. +</P> + +<P> +"Dearest, I dare not. If you knew him as I do, Polly.... He TERRIFIES +me.—Oh, what a lucky little woman you are ... to have a husband like +yours." +</P> + +<P> +Polly had recalled these words that very morning as she stood to watch +Richard ride away: never did he forget to kiss her good-bye, or to turn +and wave to her at the foot of the road. Each time she admired afresh +the figure he cut on horseback: he was so tall and slender, and sat so +straight in his saddle. Now, too, he had yielded to her persuasions and +shaved off his beard; and his moustache and side-whiskers were like his +hair, of an extreme, silky blond. Ever since the day of their first +meeting at Beamish's Family Hotel, Polly had thought her husband the +handsomest man in the world. And the best, as well. He had his +peculiarities, of course; but so had every husband; and it was part of +a wife's duty to study them, to adapt herself to them, or to endeavour +to tone them down. And now came these older, wiser ladies and confirmed +her high opinion of him. Polly beamed with happiness at this juncture, +and registered a silent vow always to be the best of wives. +</P> + +<P> +Not like—but here she tripped and coloured, on the threshold of her +thought. She had recently been the recipient of a very distressing +confidence; one, too, which she was not at liberty to share, even with +Richard. For, after the relief of a thorough-paced confession, Mrs. +Glendinning had implored her not to breathe a word to him—"I could +never look him in the face again, love!" Besides, the affair was of +such a painful nature that Polly felt little desire to draw Richard +into it; it was bad enough that she herself should know. The thing was +this: once when Polly had stayed overnight at Dandaloo Agnes +Glendinning in a sudden fit of misery had owned to her that she cared +for another person more than for her own husband, and that her feelings +were returned. +</P> + +<P> +Shocked beyond measure, Polly tried to close her friend's lips. "I +don't think you should mention any names, Agnes," she cried. +"Afterwards, my dear, you might regret it." +</P> + +<P> +But Mrs. Glendinning was hungry for the luxury of speech—not even to +Louisa Urquhart had she broken silence, she wept; and that, for the +sake of Louisa's children—and she persisted in laying her heart bare. +And here certain vague suspicions that had crossed Polly's mind on the +night of the impromptu ball—they were gone again, in an instant, quick +as thistledown on the breeze—these suddenly returned, life-size and +weighty; and the name that was spoken came as no surprise to her. Yes, +it was Mr. Henry Ocock to whom poor Agnes was attached. There had been +a mutual avowal of affection, sobbed the latter; they met as often as +circumstances permitted. Polly was thunder-struck: knowing Agnes as she +did, she herself could not believe any harm of her; but she shuddered +at the thought of what other people—Richard, for instance—would say, +did they get wind of it. She implored her friend to caution. She ought +never, never to see Mr. Ocock. Why did she not go away to Melbourne for +a time? And why had he come to Ballarat? +</P> + +<P> +"To be near me, dearest, to help me if I should need him.—Oh, you +can't think what a comfort it is, Polly, to feel that he IS here—so +good, and strong, and clever!—Yes, I know what you mean ... but this +is quite, quite different. Henry does not expect me to be clever, +too—does not want me to be. He prefers me as I am. He dislikes clever +women ... would never marry one. And we SHALL marry, darling, some +day—when ..." +</P> + +<P> +Henry Ocock! Polly tried to focus everything she knew of him, all her +fleeting impressions, in one picture—and failed. He had made himself +very agreeable, the single time she had met him; but.... There was +Richard's opinion of him: Richard did not like him or trust him; he +thought him unscrupulous in business, cold and self-seeking. Poor, poor +little Agnes! That such a misfortune should befall just her! Stranger +still that she, Polly, should be mixed up in it. +</P> + +<P> +She had, of course, always known from books that such things did +happen; but then they seemed quite different, and very far away. Her +thoughts at this crisis were undeniably woolly; but the gist of them +was, that life and books had nothing in common. For in stories the +woman who forgot herself was always a bad woman; whereas not the +harshest critic could call poor Agnes bad. Indeed, Polly felt that even +if some one proved to her that her friend had actually done wrong, she +would not on that account be able to stop caring for her, or feeling +sorry for her. It was all very uncomfortable and confusing. +</P> + +<P> +While these thoughts came and went, she half sat, half knelt, a pair of +scissors in her hand. She was busy cutting out a dress, and no table +being big enough for the purpose, had stretched the material on the +parlour floor. This would be the first new dress she had had since her +marriage; and it was high time, considering all the visiting and going +about that fell to her lot just now. Sara had sent the pattern up from +Melbourne, and John, hearing what was in the wind, had most kindly and +generously made her a present of the silk. Polly hoped she would not +bungle it in the cutting; but skirts were growing wider and wider, and +John had not reckoned with quite the newest fashion. +</P> + +<P> +Steps in the passage made her note subconsciously that Ned had +arrived—Jerry had been in the house for the past three weeks, with a +sprained wrist. And at this moment her younger brother himself entered +the room, Trotty throned on his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +Picking his steps round the sea of stuff, Jerry sat down and lowered +Trotty to his knee. "Ned's grizzling for tea." +</P> + +<P> +Polly did not reply; she was laying an odd-shaped piece of paper now +this way, now that. +</P> + +<P> +For a while Jerry played with the child. Then he burst out: "I say, +Poll!" And since Polly paid no heed to his apostrophe: +</P> + +<P> +"Richard says I can get back to work to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a good thing," answered his sister with an air of abstraction: +she had solved her puzzle to within half a yard. +</P> + +<P> +Jerry cast a boyishly imploring glance at her back, and rubbed his chin +with his hand. "Poll, old girl—I say, wouldn't you put in a word for +me with Richard? I'm hanged if I want to go back to the claim. I'm sick +to death of digging." +</P> + +<P> +At this Polly did raise her head, to regard him with grave eyes. "What! +tired of work already, Jerry? I don't know what Richard will say to +that, I'm sure. You had better speak to him yourself." +</P> + +<P> +Again Jerry rubbed his chin. "That's just it—what's so beastly hard. I +know he'll say I ought to stick to it." +</P> + +<P> +"So do I." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'd rather groom the horse than that." +</P> + +<P> +"But think how pleased you were at first!" +</P> + +<P> +Jerry ruefully admitted it. "One expects to dig out gold like spuds; +while the real thing's enough to give you the blight. As for stopping a +wages-man all my life, I won't do it. I might just as well go home and +work in a Lancashire pit." +</P> + +<P> +"But Ned—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Ned! Ned walks about with his head in the clouds. He's always +blowing of what he's GOING to do, and gets his steam off that way. I'm +different." +</P> + +<P> +But Jerry's words fell on deaf ears. A noise in the next room was +engaging Polly's whole attention. She heard a burr of suppressed +laughter, a scuffle and what sounded like a sharp slap. Jumping up she +went to the door, and was just in time to see Ellen whisk out of the +dining-room. +</P> + +<P> +Ned sat in an armchair, with his feet on the chimney-piece. "I had the +girl bring in a log, Poll," he said; and looked back and up at his +sister with his cheery smile. Standing behind him, Polly laid her hand +on his hair. "I'll go and see after the tea." Ned was so unconcerned +that she hesitated to put a question. +</P> + +<P> +In the kitchen she had no such tender scruples; nor was she imposed on +by the exaggerated energy with which Ellen bustled about. "What was +that noise I heard in the dining-room just now?" she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Noise? I dunno," gave back the girl crossly without facing her. +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense, Ellen! Do you think I didn't hear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, get along with you! It was only one of Ned's jokes." And going on +her knees, Ellen set to scrubbing the brick floor with a hiss and a +scratch that rendered speech impossible. Polly took up the laden +tea-tray and carried it into the dining-room. Richard had come home, +and the four drew chairs to the table. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony had a book with him; he propped it open against the +butter-cooler, and snatched sentences as he ate. It fell to Ned to keep +the ball rolling. Polly was distraite to the point of going wrong in +her sugars; Jerry uneasy at the prospect of coming in conflict with his +brother-in-law, whom he thought the world of. +</P> + +<P> +Ned was as full of talk as an egg of meat. The theme he dwelt longest +on was the new glory that lay in store for the Ballarat diggings. At +present these were under a cloud. The alluvial was giving out, and the +costs and difficulties of boring through the rock seemed insuperable. +One might hear the opinion freely expressed that Ballarat's day as +premier goldfield was done. Ned set up this belief merely for the +pleasure of demolishing it. He had it at first hand that great +companies were being formed to carry on operations. These would reckon +their areas in acres instead of feet, would sink to a depth of a +quarter of a mile or more, raise washdirt in hundreds of tons per day. +One such company, indeed, had already sprung into existence, out on +Golden Point; and now was the time to nip in. If he, Ned, had the +brass, or knew anybody who'd lend it to him, he'd buy up all the shares +he could get. Those who followed his lead would make their fortunes. "I +say, Richard, it'ud be something for you." +</P> + +<P> +His words evoked no response. Sorry though I shall be, thought Polly, +dear Ned had better not come to the house so often in future. I wonder +if I need tell Richard why. Jerry was on pins and needles, and even put +Trotty ungently from him: Richard would be so disgusted by Ned's +blatherskite that he would have no patience left to listen to him. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony kept his nose to his book. As a matter of principle. He made a +rule of believing, on an average, about the half of what Ned said. To +appear to pay attention to him would spur him on to more flagrant +over-statements. +</P> + +<P> +"D'ye hear, Richard? Now's your chance," repeated Ned, not to be done. +"A very different thing this, I can tell you, from running round dosing +people for the collywobbles. I know men who are raising the splosh any +way they can to get in." +</P> + +<P> +"I dare say. There's never been any lack of gamblers on Ballarat," said +Mahony dryly, and passed his cup to be refilled. +</P> + +<P> +Pig-headed fool! was Ned's mental retort, as he sliced a chunk of +rabbit-pie. "Well, I bet you'll feel sore some day you didn't take my +advice," he said aloud. +</P> + +<P> +"We shall see, my lad, we shall see!" replied Mahony. "In the meantime, +let me inform you, I can make good use of every penny I have. So if +you've come here thinking you can wheedle something out of me, you're +mistaken." He could seldom resist tearing the veil from Ned's gross +hints and impostures. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, Richard dear!" interpolated Polly, in her role of +keeper-of-the-peace. +</P> + +<P> +Ned answered huffily: "'Pon my word, I never met such a fellow as you, +for thinking the worst of people." +</P> + +<P> +The thrust went home. Mahony clapped his book to. "You lay yourself +open to it, sir! If I'm wrong, I beg your pardon. But for goodness' +sake, Ned, put all these trashy ideas of making a fortune out of your +mind. Digging is played out, I tell you. Decent people turned their +backs on it long ago." +</P> + +<P> +"That's what I think, too," threw in Jerry. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony bit his lip. "Come, come, now, what do you know about it?" +</P> + +<P> +Jerry flushed and floundered, till Polly came to his aid. "He's been +wanting to speak to you, Richard. He hates the work as much as you did." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, he has a tongue of his own.—Speak for yourself, my boy!" +</P> + +<P> +Thus encouraged, Jerry made his appeal; and fearing lest Richard should +throw him, half-heard, into the same category as Ned, he worded it very +tersely. Mahony, who had never given much heed to Jerry—no one +did—was pleased by his straightforward air. Still, he did not know +what could be done for him, and said so. +</P> + +<P> +Here Polly had an inspiration. "But I think I do. I remember Mr. Ocock +saying to me the other day he must take another boy into the business, +it was growing so—the fourth, this will make. I don't know if he's +suited yet, but even if he is, he may have heard of something else.— +Only you know, Jerry, you mustn't mind WHAT it is. After tea I'll put +on my bonnet and go down to the Flat with you. And Ned shall come, +too," she added, with a consoling glance at her elder brother: Ned had +extended his huff to his second slice of pie, which lay untouched on +his plate. +</P> + +<P> +"Somebody has always got something up her sleeve," said Mahony +affectionately, when Polly came to him in walking costume. "None the +less, wife, I shouldn't be surprised if those brothers of yours gave us +some trouble, before we're done with them." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0306"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VI +</H3> + +<P> +In the weeks and months that followed, as he rode from one end of +Ballarat to the other—from Yuille's Swamp in the west, as far east as +the ranges and gullies of Little Bendigo—it gradually became plain to +Mahony that Ned's frothy tales had some body in them after all. The +character of the diggings was changing before his very eyes. Nowadays, +except on an outlying muddy flat or in the hands of the retrograde +Chinese, tubs, cradles, and windlasses were rarely to be met with. +Engine-sheds and boiler-houses began to dot the ground; here and there +a tall chimney belched smoke, beside a lofty poppet-head or an aerial +trolley-line. The richest gutters were found to take their rise below +the basaltic deposits; the difficulties and risks of rock-mining had +now to be faced, and the capitalist, so long held at bay, at length +made free of the field. Large sums of money were being subscribed; and, +where these proved insufficient, the banks stepped into the breach with +subsidies on mortgages. The population, in whose veins the gold-fever +still burned, plunged by wholesale into the new hazard; and under the +wooden verandahs of Bridge Street a motley crew of jobbers and brokers +came into existence, who would demonstrate to you, a la Ned, how you +might reap a fortune from a claim without putting in an hour's work on +it—without even knowing where it was. +</P> + +<P> +A temptation, indeed! ... but one that did not affect him. Mahony let +the reins droop on his horse's neck, and the animal picked its way +among the impedimenta of the bush road. It concerned only those who had +money to spare. Months, too, must go by before, from even the most +promising of these co-operative affairs, any return was to be expected. +As for him, there still came days when he had not a five-pound note to +his name. It had been a delusion to suppose that, in accepting John's +offer, he was leaving money-troubles behind him. Despite Polly's +thrift, their improved style of life cost more than he had reckoned; +the patients, slow to come, were slower still to discharge their debts. +Moreover, he had not guessed how heavily the quarterly payments of +interest would weigh on him. With as good as no margin, with the fate +of every shilling decided beforehand, the saving up of thirty odd +pounds four times a year was a veritable achievement. He was always in +a quake lest he should not be able to get it together. No one suspected +what near shaves he had—not even Polly. The last time hardly bore +thinking about. At the eleventh hour he had unexpectedly found himself +several pounds short. He did not close an eye all night, and got up in +the morning as though for his own execution. Then, fortune favoured +him. A well-to-do butcher, his hearty: "What'll yours be?" at the +nearest public-house waved aside, had settled his bill off-hand. Mahony +could still feel the sudden lift of the black fog-cloud that had +enveloped him—the sense of bodily exhaustion that had succeeded to the +intolerable mental strain. +</P> + +<P> +For the coming quarter-day he was better prepared—if, that was, +nothing out of the way happened. Of late he had been haunted by the +fear of illness. The long hours in the saddle did not suit him. He +ought to have a buggy, and a second horse. But there could be no +question of it in the meantime, or of a great deal else besides. He +wanted to buy Polly a piano, for instance; all her friends had pianos; +and she played and sang very prettily. She needed more dresses and +bonnets, too, than he was able to allow her, as well as a change to the +seaside in the summer heat. The first spare money he had should go +towards one or the other. He loved to give Polly pleasure; never was +such a contented little soul as she. And well for him that it was so. +To have had a complaining, even an impatient wife at his side, just +now, would have been unbearable. But Polly did not know what impatience +meant; her sunny temper, her fixed resolve to make the best of +everything was not to be shaken. +</P> + +<P> +Well, comforts galore should be hers some day, he hoped. The practice +was shaping satisfactorily. His attendance at Dandaloo had proved a key +to many doors: folk of the Glendinnings' and Urquharts' standing could +make a reputation or mar it as they chose. It had got abroad, he knew, +that at whatever hour of the day or night he was sent for, he could be +relied on to be sober; and that unfortunately was not always the case +with some of his colleagues. In addition his fellow-practitioners +showed signs of waking up to his existence. He had been called in +lately to a couple of consultations; and the doyen of the profession on +Ballarat, old Munce himself, had praised his handling of a difficult +case of version. +</P> + +<P> +The distances to be covered—that was what made the work stiff. And he +could not afford to neglect a single summons, no matter where it led +him. Still, he would not have grumbled, had only the money not been so +hard to get in. But the fifty thousand odd souls on Ballarat formed, +even yet, anything but a stable population: a patient you attended one +day might be gone the next, and gone where no bill could reach him. Or +he had been sold off at public auction; or his wooden shanty had gone +up in a flare—hardly a night passed without a fire somewhere. In these +and like accidents the unfortunate doctor might whistle for his fee. It +seldom happened nowadays that he was paid in cash. Money was growing as +scarce here as anywhere else. Sometimes, it was true, he might have +pocketed his fee on the spot, had he cared to ask for it. But the +presenting of his palm professionally was a gesture that was denied +him. And this stand-offishness drove from people's minds the thought +that he might be in actual need of money. Afterwards he sat at home and +racked his brains how to pay butcher and grocer. Others of the +fraternity were by no means so nice. He knew of some who would not stir +a yard unless their fee was planked down before them—old stagers +these, who at one time had been badly bitten and were now grown +cynically distrustful. Or tired. And indeed who could blame a man for +hesitating of a pitch-dark night in the winter rains, or on a blazing +summer day, whether or no he should set out on a twenty-mile ride for +which he might never see the ghost of a remuneration? +</P> + +<P> +Reflecting thus, Mahony caught at a couple of hard, spicy, grey-green +leaves, to chew as he went: the gums, on which the old bark hung in +ribbons, were in flower by now, and bore feathery yellow blossoms side +by side with nutty capsules. His horse had been ambling forward +unpressed. Now it laid its ears flat, and a minute later its master's +slower senses caught the clop-clop of a second set of hoofs, the noise +of wheels. Mahony had reached a place where two roads joined, and saw a +covered buggy approaching. He drew rein and waited. +</P> + +<P> +The occupant of the vehicle had wound the reins round the empty +lamp-bracket, and left it to the sagacity of his horse to keep the +familiar track, while he dozed, head on breast, in the corner. The +animal halted of itself on coming up with its fellow, and Archdeacon +Long opened his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, good-day to you, doctor!—Yes, as you see, enjoying a little nap. +I was out early." +</P> + +<P> +He got down from the buggy and, with bent knees and his hands in his +pockets, stretched the creased cloth of his trousers, where this had +cut into his flesh. He was a big, brawny, handsome man, with a massive +nose, a cloven chin, and the most companionable smile in the world. As +he stood, he touched here a strap, there a buckle on the harness of his +chestnut—a well-known trotter, with which he often made a match—and +affectionately clapped the neck of Mahony's bay. He could not keep his +hands off a horse. By choice he was his own stableman, and in earlier +life had been a dare-devil rider. Now, increasing weight led him to +prefer buggy to saddle; but his recklessness had not diminished. With +the reins in his left hand, he would run his light, two-wheeled trap up +any wooded, boulder-strewn hill and down the other side, just as in his +harum-scarum days he had set it at felled trees, and, if rumour spoke +true, wire-fences. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony admired the splendid vitality of the man, as well as the +indestructible optimism that bore him triumphantly through all the +hardships of a colonial ministry. No sick bed was too remote for Long, +no sinner sunk too low to be helped to his feet. The leprous Chinaman +doomed to an unending isolation, the drunken Paddy, the degraded white +woman—each came in for a share of his benevolence. He spent the +greater part of his life visiting the outcasts and outposts, beating up +the unbaptised, the unconfirmed, the unwed. But his church did not +suffer. He had always some fresh scheme for this on hand: either he was +getting up a tea-meeting to raise money for an organ; or a series of +penny-readings towards funds for a chancel; or he was training with his +choir for a sacred concert. There was a boyish streak in him, too. He +would enter into the joys of the annual Sunday-school picnic with a +zest equal to the children's own, leading the way, in shirt-sleeves, at +leap-frog and obstacle-race. In doctrine he struck a happy mean between +low-church practices and ritualism, preaching short, spirited sermons +to which even languid Christians could listen without tedium; and on a +week-day evening he would take a hand at a rubber of whist or +ecarte—and not for love—or play a sound game of chess. A man, too, +who, refusing to be bound by the letter of the Thirty-nine Articles, +extended his charity even to persons of the Popish faith. In short, he +was one of the few to whom Mahony could speak of his own haphazard +efforts at criticising the Pentateuch. +</P> + +<P> +The Archdeacon was wont to respond with his genial smile: "Ah, it's all +very well for you, doctor!—you're a free lance. I am constrained by my +cloth.—And frankly, for the rest of us, that kind of thing's +too—well, too disturbing. Especially when we have nothing better to +put in its place." +</P> + +<P> +Doctor and parson—the latter, considerably over six feet, made Mahony, +who was tall enough, look short and doubly slender—walked side by side +for nearly a mile, flitting from topic to topic: the rivalry that +prevailed between Ballarats East and West; the seditious uprising in +India, where both had relatives; the recent rains, the prospects for +grazing. The last theme brought them round to Dandaloo and its unhappy +owner. The Archdeacon expressed the outsider's surprise at the strength +of Glendinning's constitution, and the lively popular sympathy that was +felt for his wife. +</P> + +<P> +"One's heart aches for the poor little lady, struggling to bear up as +though nothing were the matter. Between ourselves, doctor"—and Mr. +Long took off his straw hat to let the air play round his +head—"between ourselves, it's a thousand pities he doesn't just pop +off the hooks in one of his bouts. Or that some of you medical +gentlemen don't use your knowledge to help things on." +</P> + +<P> +He let out his great hearty laugh as he spoke, and his companion's +involuntary stiffening went unnoticed. But on Mahony voicing his +attitude with: "And his immortal soul, sir? Isn't it the church's duty +to hope for a miracle? ... just as it is ours to keep the vital spark +going," he made haste to take the edge off his words. "Now, now, +doctor, only my fun! Our duty is, I trust, plain to us both." +</P> + +<P> +It was even easier to soothe than to ruffle Mahony. "Remember me very +kindly to Mrs. Long, will you?" he said as the Archdeacon prepared to +climb into his buggy. "But tell her, too, I owe her a grudge just now. +My wife's so lost in flannel and brown holland that I can't get a word +out of her." +</P> + +<P> +"And mine doesn't know where she'd be, with this bazaar, if it weren't +for Mrs. Mahony." Long was husband to a dot of a woman who, having +borne him half a dozen children of his own feature and build, now +worked as parish clerk and district visitor rolled in one; driving +about in sunbonnet and gardening-gloves behind a pair of cream +ponies—tiny, sharp-featured, resolute; with little of her husband's +large tolerance, but an energy that outdid his own, and made her an +object of both fear and respect. "And that reminds me: over at the +cross-roads by Spring Hill, I met your young brother-in-law. And he +told me, if I ran across you to ask you to hurry home. Your wife has +some surprise or other in store for you. No, nothing unpleasant! Rather +the reverse, I believe. But I wasn't to say more. Well, good-day, +doctor, good-day to you!" +</P> + +<P> +Mahony smiled, nodded and went on his way. Polly's surprises were +usually simple and transparent things: some one would have made them a +present of a sucking-pig or a bush-turkey, and Polly, knowing his +relish for a savoury morsel, did not wish it to be overdone: she had +sent similar chance calls out after him before now. +</P> + +<P> +When, having seen his horse rubbed down, he reached home, he found her +on the doorstep watching for him. She was flushed, and her eyes had +those peculiar high-lights in them which led him jokingly to exhort her +to caution: "Lest the sparks should set the house on fire!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what is it, Pussy?" he inquired as he laid his bag down and hung +up his wide-awake. "What's my little surprise-monger got up her sleeve +to-day? Good Lord, Polly, I'm tired!" +</P> + +<P> +Polly was smiling roguishly. "Aren't you going into the surgery, +Richard?" she asked, seeing him heading for the dining-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha! So that's it," said he, and obediently turned the handle. Polly +had on occasion taken advantage of his absence to introduce some new +comfort or decoration in his room. +</P> + +<P> +The blind had been let down. He was still blinking in the half-dark +when a figure sprang out from behind the door, barging heavily against +him, and a loud voice shouted: "Boh, you old beef-brains! Boh to a +goose!" +</P> + +<P> +Displeased at such horseplay, Mahony stepped sharply back—his first +thought was of Ned having unexpectedly returned from Mount Ararat. Then +recognising the voice, he exclaimed incredulously: "YOU, Dickybird? +You!" +</P> + +<P> +"Dick, old man.... I say, Dick! Yes, it's me right enough, and not my +ghost. The old bad egg come back to roost!" +</P> + +<P> +The blind was raised; and the friends, who had last met in the dingy +bush hut on the night of the Stockade, stood face to face. And now +ensued a babel of greeting, a quick fire of question and answer, the +two voices going in and out and round each other, singly and together, +like the voices in a duet. Tears rose to Polly's eyes as she listened; +it made her heart glow to see Richard so glad. But when, forgetting her +presence, Purdy cried: "And I must confess, Dick.... I took a kiss from +Mrs. Polly. Gad, old man, how she's come on!" Polly hastily retired to +the kitchen. +</P> + +<P> +At table the same high spirits prevailed: it did not often happen that +Richard was brought out of his shell like this, thought Polly +gratefully, and heaped her visitor's plate to the brim. His first +hunger stilled, Purdy fell to giving a slapdash account of his +experiences. He kept to no orderly sequence, but threw them out just as +they occurred to him: a rub with bushrangers in the Black Forest, his +adventures as a long-distance drover in the Mildura, the trials of a +week he had spent in a boiling-down establishment on the Murray: "Where +the stink wa so foul, you two, that I vomited like a dog every day!" +Under the force of this Odyssey husband and wife gradually dropped into +silence, which they broke only by single words of astonishment and +sympathy; while the child Trotty spooned in her pudding without seeing +it, her round, solemn eyes fixed unblinkingly on this new uncle, who +was like a wonderful story-book come alive. +</P> + +<P> +In Mahony's feelings for Purdy at this moment, there was none of the +old intolerant superiority. He had been dependent for so long on a mere +surface acquaintance with his fellows, that he now felt to the full how +precious the tie was that bound him to Purdy. Here came one for whom he +was not alone the reserved, struggling practitioner, the rather moody +man advancing to middle-age; but also the Dick of his boyhood and early +youth. +</P> + +<P> +He had often imagined the satisfaction it would be to confide his +troubles to Purdy. Compared, however, with the hardships the latter had +undergone, these seemed of small importance; and dinner passed without +any allusion to his own affairs. And now the chances of his speaking +out were slight; he could have been entirely frank only under the first +stimulus of meeting. +</P> + +<P> +Even when they rose from the table Purdy continued to hold the stage. +For he had turned up with hardly a shirt to his back, and had to be +rigged out afresh from Mahony's wardrobe. It was decided that he should +remain their guest in the meantime; also that Mahony should call on his +behalf on the Commissioner of Police, and put in a good word for him. +For Purdy had come back with the idea of seeking a job in the Ballarat +Mounted Force. +</P> + +<P> +When Mahony could no longer put off starting on his afternoon round, +Purdy went with him to the livery-barn, limping briskly at his side. On +the way, he exclaimed aloud at the marvellous changes that had taken +place since he was last in the township. There were half a dozen +gas-lamps in Sturt Street by this time, the gas being distilled from a +mixture of oil and gum-leaves. +</P> + +<P> +"One wouldn't credit it if one didn't see it with one's own peepers!" +he cried, repeatedly bringing up short before the plate-glass windows +of the shops, the many handsome, verandahed hotels, the granite front +of Christ Church. "And from what I hear, Dick, now companies have +jumped the claims and are deep-sinking in earnest, fortunes'll be made +like one o'clock." +</P> + +<P> +But on getting home again, he sat down in front of Polly and said, with +a businesslike air: "And now tell me all about old Dick! You know, +Poll, he's such an odd fish; if he himself doesn't offer to uncork, +somehow one can't just pump him. And I want to know everything that +concerns him—from A to Z." +</P> + +<P> +Polly could not hold out against this affectionate curiosity. +Entrenching her needle in its stuff, she put her work away and +complied. And soon to her own satisfaction. For the first time in her +married life she was led to discuss her husband's ways and actions with +another; and, to her amazement, she found that it was easier to talk to +Purdy about Richard than to Richard himself. Purdy and she saw things +in the same light; no rigmarole of explanation was necessary. Now with +Richard, it was not so. In conversation with him, one constantly felt +that he was not speaking out, or, to put it more plainly, that he was +going on meanwhile with his own, very different thoughts. And behind +what he did say, there was sure to lurk some imaginary scruple, some +rather far-fetched delicacy of feeling which it was hard to get at, and +harder still to understand. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0307"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VII +</H3> + +<P> +Summer had come round again, and the motionless white heat of December +lay heavy on the place. The low little houses seemed to cower beneath +it; and the smoke from their chimneys drew black, perpendicular lines +on the pale sky. If it was a misery at this season to traverse the +blazing, dusty roads, it was almost worse to be within doors, where the +thin wooden walls were powerless to keep out the heat, and flies and +mosquitoes raged in chorus. Nevertheless, determined Christmas +preparations went on in dozens of tiny, zinc-roofed kitchens, the +temperature of which was not much below that of the ovens themselves; +and kindly, well-to-do people like Mrs. Glendinning and Mrs. Urquhart +drove in in hooded buggies, with green fly-veils dangling from their +broad-brimmed hats, and dropped a goose here, a turkey there, on their +less prosperous friends. They robbed their gardens, too, of the +summer's last flowers, arum-lilies and brilliant geraniums, to decorate +the Archdeacon's church for the festival; and many ladies spent the +whole day beforehand making wreaths and crosses, and festoons to +encircle the lamps. +</P> + +<P> +No one was busier than Polly. She wanted to give Purdy, who had been on +short commons for so long, a special Christmas treat. She had willing +helpers in him and Jerry: the two of them chopped and stoned and +stirred, while she, seated on the block of the woodstack, her head tied +up in an old pillow-case, plucked and singed the goose that had fallen +to her share. Towards four o'clock on Christmas Day they drew their +chairs to the table, and with loosened collars set about enjoying the +good things. Or pretending to enjoy them. This was Mahony's case; for +the day was no holiday for him, and his head ached from the sun. At +tea-time Hempel arrived to pay a call, looking very spruce in a long +black coat and white tie; and close on his heels followed old Mr. +Ocock. The latter, having deposited his hat under his seat and tapped +several pockets, produced a letter, which he unfolded and handed to +Polly with a broad grin. It was from his daughter, and contained the +news of his wife's death. "Died o' the grumbles, I lay you! An' the +first good turn she ever done me." The main point was that Miss Amelia, +now at liberty, was already taking advice about the safest line of +clipper-ships, and asking for a reply BY RETURN to a number of +extraordinary questions. Could one depend on hearing God's Word +preached of a Sunday? Was it customary for FEMALES to go armed as well +as men? Were the blacks CONVERTED, and what amount of clothing did they +wear? +</P> + +<P> +"Thinks she's comin' to the back o' beyond, does Mely!" chuckled the +old man, and slapped his thigh at the sudden idea that occurred to him +of "takin' a rise out of 'er." "Won't she stare when she gits 'ere, +that's all!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, now you'll simply HAVE to build," said Polly, after threatening +to write privately to Miss Amelia, to reassure her. Why not move over +west, and take up a piece of ground in the same road as themselves? But +from this he excused himself, with a laugh and a spit, on the score +that no land-sales had yet been held in their neighbourhood: when he +DID turn out of his present four walls, which had always been plenty +good enough for him, he wanted a place he could "fit up tidy"; which it +'ud stick in his throat to do so, if he thought it might any day be +sold over his head. Mahony winced at this. Then laughed, with an +exaggerated carelessness. If, in a country like this, you waited for +all to be fixed and sure, you would wait till Domesday. None the less, +the thrust rankled. It was a fact that he himself had not spent a sou +on his premises since they finished building. The thought at the back +of HIS mind, too, was, why waste his hard-earned income on improvements +that might benefit only the next-comer? The yard they sat in, for +instance! Polly had her hens and a ramshackle hen-house; but not a +spadeful of earth had been turned towards the wished-for garden. It was +just the ordinary colonial backyard, fenced round with rude palings +which did not match, and were mended here and there with bits of +hoop-iron; its ground space littered with a medley of articles for +which there was no room elsewhere: boards left lying by the builders, +empty kerosene-tins, a couple of tubs, a ragged cane-chair, some old +cases. Wash-lines, on which at the moment a row of stockings hung, +stretched permanently from corner to corner; and the whole was +dominated by the big round galvanised-iron tank. +</P> + +<P> +On Boxing Day Purdy got the loan of a lorry and drove a large party, +including several children, comfortably placed on straw, hassocks and +low chairs, to the Races a few miles out. Half Ballarat was making in +the same direction; and whoever owned a horse that was sound in the +wind and anything of a stepper had entered it for some item on the +programme. The Grand Stand, a bark shed open to the air on three sides, +was resorted to only in the case of a sudden downpour; the occupants of +the dust-laden buggies, wagonettes, brakes, carts and drays preferred +to follow events standing on their seats, and on the boards that served +them as seats. After the meeting, those who belonged to the +Urquhart-Glendinning set went on to Yarangobilly, and danced till long +pastmidnight on the broad verandah. It was nearly three o'clock before +Purdy brought his load safely home. Under the round white moon, the +lorry was strewn with the forms of sleeping children. +</P> + +<P> +Early next morning while Polly, still only half awake, was pouring out +coffee and giving Richard who, poor fellow, could not afford to leave +his patients, an account of their doings—with certain omissions, of +course: she did not mention the glaring indiscretion Agnes Glendinning +had been guilty of, in disappearing with Mr. Henry Ocock into a dark +shrubbery—while Polly talked, the postman handed in two letters, which +were of a nature to put balls and races clean out of her head. The +first was in Mrs. Beamish's ill-formed hand, and told a sorrowful tale. +Custom had entirely gone: a new hotel had been erected on the new road; +Beamish was forced to declare himself a bankrupt; and in a few days the +Family Hotel, with all its contents, would be put up at public auction. +What was to become of them, God alone knew. She supposed she would end +her days in taking in washing, and the girls must go out as servants. +But she was sure Polly, now so up in the world, with a husband doing so +well, would not forget the old friends who had once been so kind to +her—with much more in the same strain, which Polly skipped, in reading +the letter aloud. The long and short of it was: would Polly ask her +husband to lend them a couple of hundred pounds to make a fresh start +with, or failing that to put his name to a bill for the same amount? +</P> + +<P> +"Of course she hasn't an idea we were obliged to borrow money +ourselves," said Polly in response to Mahony's ironic laugh. "I +couldn't tell them that." +</P> + +<P> +"No ... nor that it's a perpetual struggle to keep the wolf from the +door," answered her husband, battering in the top of an egg with the +back of his spoon. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard dear, things aren't quite so bad as that," said Polly +cheerfully. Then she heaved a sigh. "I know, of course, we can't afford +to help them; but I DO feel so sorry for them"—she herself would have +given the dress off her back. "And I think, dear, if you didn't mind +VERY much, we might ask one of the girls up to stay with us ... till +the worst is over." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I suppose that wouldn't be impossible," said Mahony. "If you've +set your heart on it, my Polly. If, too, you can persuade Master Purdy +to forgo the comfort of your good feather-bed. And I'll see if I can +wring out a fiver for you to enclose in your letter." +</P> + +<P> +Polly jumped up and kissed him. "Purdy is going anyhow. He said only +last night he must look for lodgings near the Police Station." Here a +thought struck her; she coloured and smiled. "I'll ask Tilly first," +said she. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony laughed and shook his finger at her. "The best laid plans o' +mice and men! And what's one to say to a match-maker who is still +growing out of her clothes?" +</P> + +<P> +At this Polly clapped a hand over his mouth, for fear Ellen should hear +him. It was a sore point with her that she had more than once of late +had to lengthen her dresses. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as she was alone she sat down to compose a reply to Mrs. +Beamish. It was no easy job: she was obliged to say that Richard felt +unable to come to their aid; and, at the same time, to avoid touching +on his private affairs; had to disappoint as kindly as she could; to be +truthful, yet tactful. Polly wrote, and re-wrote: the business cost her +the forenoon. +</P> + +<P> +She could not even press Tilly to pack her box and come at once; for +her second letter that morning had been from Sara, who wrote that, +having decided to shake the dust of the colony off her feet, she wished +to pay them a flying visit before sailing, "POUR FAIRE MES ADIEUX." She +signed herself "Your affectionate sister Zara," and on her arrival +explained that, tired of continually instructing people in the +pronunciation of her name, she had decided to alter the spelling and be +done with it. Moreover, a little bird had whispered in her ear that, +under its new form, it fitted her rather "FRENCH" air and looks a +thousand times better than before. +</P> + +<P> +Descending from the coach, Zara eyed Polly up and down and vowed she +would never have known her; and, on the way home, Polly more than once +felt her sister's gaze fixed critically on her. For her part, she was +able to assure Zara that she saw no change whatever in her, since her +last visit—even since the date of the wedding. And this pleased Zara +mightily; for as she admitted, in removing hat and mantle, and passing +the damped corner of a towel over her face, she dreaded the ageing +effects of the climate on her fine complexion. Close as ever about her +own concerns, she gave no reason for her abrupt determination to leave +the country; but from subsequent talk Polly gathered that, for one +thing, Zara had found her position at the head of John's +establishment—"Undertaken in the first place, my dear, at immense +personal sacrifice!"—no sinecure. John had proved a regular martinet; +he had countermanded her orders, interfered about the household +bills—had even accused her of lining her own pocket. As for little +Johnny—the bait originally thrown out to induce her to accept the +post—he had long since been sent to boarding-school. "A thoroughly +bad, unprincipled boy!" was Zara's verdict. And when Polly, big with +pity, expostulated: "But Zara, he is only six years old!" her sister +retorted with a: "My dear, I know the world, and you don't," to which +Polly could think of no reply. +</P> + +<P> +Zara had announced herself for a bare fortnight's stay; but the man who +carried her trunk groaned and sweated under it, and was so insolent +about the size of the coin she dropped in his palm that Polly followed +him by stealth into the passage, to make it up to a crown. As usual +Zara was attired in the height of fashion. She brought a set of "the +hoops" with her—the first to be seen on Ballarat—and once more Polly +was torn between an honest admiration of her sister's daring, and an +equally honest embarrassment at the notice she attracted. Zara swam and +glided about the streets, to the hilarious amazement of the population; +floated feather-light, billowing here, depressing there, with all the +waywardness of a child's balloon; supported—or so it seemed—by two of +the tiniest feet ever bestowed on mortal woman. Aha! but that was one +of the chief merits of "the hoops," declared Zara; that, and the +possibility of getting still more stuff into your skirts without +materially increasing their weight. There was something in that, +conceded Polly, who often felt hers drag heavy. Besides, as she +reminded Richard that night, when he lay alternately chuckling and +snorting at woman's folly, custom was everything. Once they had smiled +at Zara appearing in a hat: "And now we're all wearing them." +</P> + +<P> +Another practical consideration that occurred to her she expressed with +some diffidence. "But Zara, don't you ... I mean ... aren't they very +draughty?" +</P> + +<P> +Zara had to repeat her shocked but emphatic denial in the presence of +Mrs. Glendinning and Mrs. Urquhart, both ladies having a mind to bring +their wardrobes up to date. They agreed that there was much to be said +in favour of the appliance, over and above its novelty. Especially +would it be welcome at those times when... But here the speakers +dropped into woman's mysterious code of nods and signs; while Zara, +turning modestly away, pretended to count the stitches in a +crochet-antimacassar. +</P> + +<P> +Yes, nowadays, as Mrs. Dr. Mahony, Polly was able to introduce her +sister to a society worthy of Zara's gifts; and Zara enjoyed herself so +well that, had her berth not been booked, she might have contemplated +extending her visit. She overflowed with gracious commendation. The +house—though, of course, compared with John's splendour, a trifle +plain and poky—was a decided advance on the store; Polly herself much +improved: "You DO look robust, my dear!" And—though Zara held her +peace about this—the fact of Mahony's being from home each day, for +hours at a stretch, lent an additional prop to her satisfaction. Under +these conditions it was possible to keep on good terms with her +brother-in-law. +</P> + +<P> +Zara's natty appearance and sprightly ways made her a favourite with +every one especially the gentlemen. The episcopal bazaar came off at +this time; and Zara had the brilliant idea of a bran-pie. This was the +success of the entertainment. From behind the refreshment-stall where, +with Mrs. Long, she was pouring out cups of tea and serving cheesecakes +and sausage-rolls by the hundred, Polly looked proudly across the +beflagged hall, to the merry group of which her sister was the centre. +Zara was holding her own, even with Mr. Henry Ocock; and Mr. Urquhart +had constituted himself her right hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Your sister is no doubt a most fascinating woman," said Mrs. Urquhart +from the seat with which she had been accommodated; and heaved a gentle +sigh. "How odd that she should never have married!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid Zara's too particular," said Polly. "It's not for want of +being asked." +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes met Purdy's as she spoke—Purdy had come up laden with empty +cups, a pair of infants' boots dangling round his neck—and they +exchanged smiles; for Zara's latest AFFAIRE DU COEUR was a source of +great amusement to them. +</P> + +<P> +Polly had assisted at the first meeting between her sister and Purdy +with very mixed feelings. On that occasion Purdy happened to be in +plain clothes, and Zara pronounced him charming. The next day, however, +he dropped in clad in the double-breasted blue jacket, the high boots +and green-veiled cabbage-tree he wore when on duty; and thereupon +Zara's opinion of him sank to null, and was not to be raised even by +him presenting himself in full dress: white-braided trousers, red faced +shell jacket, pill-box cap, cartouche box and cavalry sword. "La, +Polly! Nothing but a common policeman!" In vain did Polly explain the +difference between a member of the ordinary force and a mounted trooper +of the gold-escort; in vain lay stress on Richard's pleasure at seeing +Purdy buckle to steady work, no matter what. Zara's thoughts had taken +wing for a land where such anomalies were not; where you were not asked +to drink tea with the well-meaning constable who led you across a +crowded thoroughfare or turned on his bull's eye for you in a fog, +preparatory to calling up a hackney-cab. +</P> + +<P> +But the chilly condescension with which, from now on, Zara treated him +did not seem to trouble Purdy. When he ran in for five minutes of a +morning, he eschewed the front entrance and took up his perch on the +kitchen-table. From here, while Polly cooked and he nibbled half-baked +pastry, the two of them followed the progress of events in the parlour. +</P> + +<P> +Zara's arrival on Ballarat had been the cue for Hempel's reappearance, +and now hardly a day went by on which the lay-helper did not neglect +his chapel work, in order to pay what Zara called his "DEVOIRS." Slight +were his pretexts for coming: a rare bit of dried seaweed for bookmark; +a religious journal with a turned-down page; a nosegay. And though Zara +would not nowadays go the length of walking out with a dissenter—she +preferred on her airings to occupy the box-seat of Mr. Urquhart's +four-in-hand—she had no objection to Hempel keeping her company during +the empty hours of the forenoon when Polly was lost in domestic cares. +She accepted his offerings, mimicked his faulty speech, and was +continually hauling him up the precipice of self-distrust, only to let +him slip back as soon as he reached the top. +</P> + +<P> +One day Purdy entered the kitchen doubled up with laughter. In passing +the front of the house he had thrown a look in at the parlour-window; +and the sight of the prim and proper Hempel on his knees on the woolly +hearthrug so tickled his sense of humour that, having spluttered out +the news, back he went to the passage, where he crouched down before +the parlour-door and glued his eye to the keyhole. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Purdy, no! What if the door should suddenly fly open?" +</P> + +<P> +But there was something in Purdy's pranks that a laughter-lover like +Polly could never for long withstand. Here, now, in feigning to imitate +the unfortunate Hempel, he was sheerly irresistible. He clapped his +hands to his heart, showed the whites of his eyes, wept, gesticulated +and tore his hair; and Polly, after trying in vain to keep a straight +face, sat down and went off into a fit of stifled mirth—and when Polly +did give way, she was apt to set every one round her laughing, too. +Ellen's shoulders shook; she held a fist to her mouth. Even little +Trotty shrilled out her tinny treble, without knowing in the least what +the joke was. +</P> + +<P> +When the merriment was at its height, the front door opened and in +walked Mahony. An instant's blank amazement, and he had grasped the +whole situation—Richard was always so fearfully quick at +understanding, thought Polly ruefully. Then, though Purdy jumped to his +feet and the laughter died out as if by command, he drew his brows +together, and without saying a word, stalked into the surgery and shut +the door. +</P> + +<P> +Like a schoolboy who has been caned, Purdy dug his knuckles into his +eyes and rubbed his hindquarters—to the fresh delight of Trotty and +the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, so long, Polly! I'd better be making tracks. The old man's on +the warpath." And in an undertone: "Same old grouser! Never COULD take +a joke." +</P> + +<P> +"He's tired. I'll make it all right," gave Polly back. +</P> + +<P> +—"It was only his fun, Richard," she pleaded, as she held out a linen +jacket for her husband to slip his arms into. +</P> + +<P> +"Fun of a kind I won't permit in my house. What an example to set the +child! What's more, I shall let Hempel know that he is being made a +butt of. And speak my mind to your sister about her heartless +behaviour." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, don't do that, Richard. I promise it shan't happen again. It was +very stupid of us, I know. But Purdy didn't really mean it unkindly; +and he IS so comical when he starts to imitate people." And Polly was +all but off again, at the remembrance. +</P> + +<P> +But Mahony, stooping to decipher the names Ellen had written on the +slate, did not unbend. It was not merely the vulgar joke that had +offended him. No, what really rankled was the sudden chill his +unlooked-for entrance had cast over the group; they had scattered and +gone scurrying about their business, like a pack of naughty children +who had been up to mischief behind their master's back. He was the +schoolmaster—the spoilsport. They were all afraid of him. Even Polly. +</P> + +<P> +But here came Polly herself to say: "Dinner, dear," in her kindest +tone. She also put her arm round his neck and hugged him. "Not cross +any more, Richard? I know we behaved disgracefully." Her touch put the +crown on her words. Mahony drew her to him and kissed her. +</P> + +<P> +But the true origin of the unpleasantness, Zara, who in her ghoulish +delight at seeing Hempel grovel before her—thus Mahony worded +it—behaved more kittenishly than ever at table: Zara Mahony could not +so easily forgive; and for the remainder of her stay his manner to her +was so forbidding that she, too, froze; and to Polly's regret the old +bad relation between them came up anew. +</P> + +<P> +But Zara was enjoying herself too well to cut her visit short on +Mahony's account. "Besides, poor thing," thought Polly, "she has really +nowhere to go." What she did do was to carry her head very high in her +brother-in-law's presence; to speak at him rather than to him; and in +private to insist to Polly on her powers of discernment. "You may say +what you like, my dear—I can see you have a VERY GREAT DEAL to put up +with!" +</P> + +<P> +At last, however, the day of her departure broke, and she went off amid +a babble of farewells, of requests for remembrance, a fluttering of +pocket-handkerchiefs, the like of which Polly had never known; and to +himself Mahony breathed the hope that they had seen the last of Zara, +her fripperies and affectations. "Your sister will certainly fit better +into the conditions of English life." +</P> + +<P> +Polly cried at the parting, which might be final; then blew her nose +and dried her eyes; for she had a busy day before her. Tilly Beamish +had been waiting with ill-concealed impatience for Zara to vacate the +spare room, and was to arrive that night. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony was not at home to welcome the new-comer, nor could he be +present at high tea. When he returned, towards nine o'clock, he found +Polly with a very red face, and so full of fussy cares for her guest's +comfort—her natural kindliness distorted to caricature—that she had +not a word for him. One look at Miss Tilly explained everything, and +his respects duly paid he retired to the surgery, to indulge a smile at +Polly's expense. Here Polly soon joined him, Tilly, fatigued by her +journey and by her bounteous meal, having betaken herself early to bed. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha!" laughed Mahony, not without a certain mischievous +satisfaction at his young wife's discomfiture. "And with the prospect +of a second edition to follow!" +</P> + +<P> +But Polly would not capitulate right off. "I don't think it's very kind +of you to talk like that, Richard," she said warmly. "People can't help +their looks." She moved about the room putting things straight, and +avoiding his eye. "As long as they mean well and are good.... But I +think you would rather no one ever came to stay with us, at all." +</P> + +<P> +Fixing her with meaning insistence and still smiling, Mahony opened his +arms. The next moment Polly was on his knee, her face hidden in his +shoulder. There she shed a few tears. "Oh, isn't she dreadful? I don't +know WHAT I shall do with her. She's been serving behind the bar, +Richard, for more than a year. And she's come expecting to be taken +everywhere and to have any amount of gaiety." +</P> + +<P> +At coach-time she had dragged a reluctant Purdy to the office. But as +soon as he caught sight of Tilly: "On the box, Richard, beside the +driver, with her hair all towsy-wowsy in the wind—he just said: 'Oh, +lor, Polly!' and disappeared, and that was the last I saw of him. I +don't know how I should have got on if it hadn't been for old Mr. +Ocock, who was down meeting a parcel. He was most kind; he helped us +home with her carpet-bag, and saw after her trunk. And, oh dear, what +do you think? When he was going away he said to me in the passage—so +loud I'm sure Tilly must have heard him—he said: 'Well! that's +something like a figure of a female this time, Mrs. Doc. As fine a +young woman as ever I see!'" +</P> + +<P> +And Polly hid her face again; and husband and wife laughed in concert. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0308"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VIII +</H3> + +<P> +That night a great storm rose. Mahony, sitting reading after everyone +else had retired, saw it coming, and lamp in hand went round the house +to secure hasps and catches; then stood at the window to watch the +storm's approach. In one half of the sky the stars were still +peacefully alight; the other was hidden by a dense cloud, which came +racing along like a giant bat with outspread wings, devouring the stars +in its flight. The storm broke; there was a sudden shrill screeching, a +grinding, piping, whistling, and the wind hurled itself against the +house as if to level it with the ground; failing in this, it banged and +battered, making windows and doors shake like loose teeth in their +sockets. Then it swept by to wreak its fury elsewhere, and there was a +grateful lull out of which burst a peal of thunder. And now peal +followed peal, and the face of the sky, with its masses of swirling, +frothy cloud, resembled an angry sea. The lightning ripped it in fierce +zigzags, darting out hundreds of spectral fangs. It was a magnificent +sight. +</P> + +<P> +Polly came running to see where he was, the child cried, Miss Tilly +opened her door by a hand's-breadth, and thrust a red, puffy face, +framed in curl-twists, through the crack. Nobody thought of sleep while +the commotion lasted, for fear of fire: once alight, these exposed +little wooden houses blazed up like heaps of shavings. The clock-hands +pointed to one before the storm showed signs of abating. Now, the rain +was pouring down, making an ear-splitting din on the iron roof and +leaping from every gutter and spout. It had turned very cold. Mahony +shivered as he got into bed. +</P> + +<P> +He seemed hardly to have closed an eye when he was wakened by a loud +knocking; at the same time the wire of the night-bell was almost +wrenched in two. He sat up and looked at his watch. It wanted a few +minutes to three; the rain was still falling in torrents, the wind +sighed and moaned. Wild horses should not drag him out on such a night! +Thrusting his arms into the sleeves of his dressing-gown, he threw up +the parlour window. "Who's there?" The hiss of the rain cut his words +through. +</P> + +<P> +A figure on the doorstep turned at the sound. "Is this a doctor's? I +wuz sent here. Doctor! for God's sake ..." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it? Stop a minute! I'll open the door." +</P> + +<P> +He did so, letting in a blast of wind and a rush of rain that flooded +the oilcloth. The intruder, off whom the water streamed, had to shout +to make himself audible. +</P> + +<P> +"It's me—Mat Doyle's me name! It's me wife, doctor; she's dying. I've +bin all night on the road. Ah, for the love of—" +</P> + +<P> +"Where is it?" Mahony put his hand to the side of his mouth, to keep +his words from flying adrift in the wind. +</P> + +<P> +"Paddy's Rest. You're the third I've bin to. Not one of the dirty +dogs'ull stir a leg! Me girl may die like a rabbit for all they +care."— The man's voice broke, as he halloed particulars. +</P> + +<P> +"Paddy's Rest? On a night like this? Why, the creek will be out." +</P> + +<P> +"Doctor! you're from th' ould country, I can hear it in your lip. +Haven't you a wife, too, doctor? Then show a bit o' mercy to mine!" +</P> + +<P> +"Tut, tut, man, none of that!" said Mahony curtly. "You should have +bespoken me at the proper time to attend your wife.—Besides, there'll +be no getting along the road to-night." +</P> + +<P> +The other caught the note of yielding. "Sure an' you'd go out, doctor +dear, without thinkin', to save your dog if he was drownin'. I've got +me buggy down there; I'll take you safe. And you shan't regret it; I'll +make it worth your while, by the Lord Harry I will!" +</P> + +<P> +"Pshaw!"—Mahony opened the door of the surgery and struck a match. It +was a rough grizzled fellow—a "cocky," on his own showing—who +presented himself in the lamplight. His wife had fallen ill that +afternoon. At first everything seemed to be going well; then she was +seized with fits, had one fit after another, and all but bit her tongue +in two. There was nobody with her but a young girl he had fetched from +a mile away. He had meant, when her time came, to bring her to the +District Hospital. But they had been taken unawares. While he waited he +sat with his elbows on his knees, his face between his clenched fists. +</P> + +<P> +In dressing, Mahony reassured Polly, and instructed her what to say to +people who came inquiring after him; it was unlikely he would be back +before afternoon. Most of the patients could wait till then. The one +exception, a case of typhoid in its second week, a young Scotch +surgeon, Brace, whom he had obliged in a similar emergency, would no +doubt see for him—she should send Ellen down with a note. And having +poured Doyle out a nobbler and put a flask in his own pocket, Mahony +reopened the front door to the howl of the wind. +</P> + +<P> +The lantern his guide carried shed only a tiny circlet of light on the +blackness; and the two men picked their steps gingerly along the +flooded road. The rain ran in jets off the brim of Mahony's hat, and +down the back of his neck. +</P> + +<P> +Having climbed into the buggy they advanced at a funeral pace, leaving +it to the sagacity of the horse to keep the track. At the creek, sure +enough, the water was out, the bridge gone. To reach the next bridge, +five miles off, a crazy cross-country drive would have been necessary; +and Mahony was for giving up the job. But Doyle would not acknowledge +defeat. He unharnessed the horse, set Mahony on its back, and himself +holding to its tail, forced the beast, by dint of kicking and lashing, +into the water; and not only got them safely across, but up the steep +sticky clay of the opposite bank. It was six o'clock and a cloudless +morning when, numb with cold, his clothing clinging to him like wet +seaweed, Mahony entered the wooden hut where the real work he had come +out to do began. +</P> + +<P> +Later in the day, clad in an odd collection of baggy garments, he sat +and warmed himself in the sun, which was fast drawing up in the form of +a blankety mist the moisture from the ground. He had successfully +performed, under the worst possible conditions, a ticklish operation; +and was now so tired that, with his chin on his chest, he fell fast +asleep. +</P> + +<P> +Doyle wakened him by announcing the arrival of the buggy. The good man, +who had more than one nobbler during the morning could not hold his +tongue, but made still another wordy attempt to express his gratitude. +"Whither me girl lives or dies, it'll not be Mat Doyle who forgits what +you did for him this night, doctor! An' if iver you want a bit o' work +done, or some one to do your lyin' awake at night for you, just you +gimme the tip. I don't mind tellin' you now, I'd me shootin'-iron +here"—he touched his right hip—"an' if you'd refused—you was the +third, mind you,—I'd have drilled you where you stood, God damn me if +I wouldn't!" +</P> + +<P> +Mahony eyed the speaker with derision. "Much good that would have done +your wife, you fathead! Well, well, we'll say nothing to MINE, if you +please, about anything of that sort." +</P> + +<P> +"No, may all the saints bless 'er and give 'er health! An' as I say, +doctor...." In speaking he had drawn a roll of bank-notes from his +pocket, and now he tried to stuff them between Mahony's fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"What's this? My good man, keep your money till it's asked for!" and +Mahony unclasped his hands, so that the notes fluttered to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +"Then there let 'em lay!" +</P> + +<P> +But when, in clothes dried stiff as cardboard, Mahony was rolling +townwards—his coachman, a lad of some ten or twelve who handled the +reins to the manner born—as they went he chanced to feel in his coat +pocket, and there found five ten-pound notes rolled up in a neat bundle. +</P> + +<P> +The main part of the road was dry and hard again; but all dips and +holes were wells of liquid mud, which bespattered the two of them from +top to toe as the buggy bumped carelessly in and out. Mahony diverted +himself by thinking of what he could give Polly with this sum. It would +serve to buy that pair of gilt cornices or the heavy gilt-framed +pierglass on which she had set her heart. He could see her, pink with +pleasure, expostulating: "Richard! What WICKED extravagance!" and hear +himself reply: "And pray may my wife not have as pretty a parlour as +her neighbours?" He even cast a thought, in passing, on the pianoforte +with which Polly longed to crown the furnishings of her room—though, +of course, at least treble this amount would be needed to cover its +cost.— But a fig for such nonsense! He knew but one legitimate use to +make of the unexpected little windfall, and that was, to put it by for +a rainy day. "At my age, in my position, I OUGHT to have fifty pounds +in the bank!"—times without number he had said this to himself, with a +growing impatience. But he had not yet managed to save a halfpenny. +Thrive as the practice might, the expenses of living held even pace +with it. And now, having got its cue, his brain started off again on +the old treadmill, reckoning, totting up, finding totals, or more often +failing to find them, till his head was as hot as his feet were cold. +To-day he could not think clearly at all. +</P> + +<P> +Nor the next day either. By the time he reached home he was conscious +of feeling very ill: he had lancinating pains in his limbs, a chill +down his spine, an outrageous temperature. To set out again on a round +of visits was impossible. He had just to tumble into bed. +</P> + +<P> +He got between the sheets with that sense of utter well-being, of +almost sensual satisfaction, which only one who is shivering with fever +knows. And at first very small things were enough to fill him with +content: the smoothness of the pillow's sleek linen; the shadowy light +of the room after long days spent in the dusty glare outside; the +possibility of resting, the knowledge that it was his duty to rest; +Polly's soft, firm hands, which were always of the right +temperature—warm in the cold stage, cool when the fever scorched him, +and neither hot nor cold when the dripping sweats came on. But as the +fever declined, these slight pleasures lost their hold. Then he was +ridden to death by black thoughts. Not only was day being added to day, +he meanwhile not turning over a penny; but ideas which he knew to be +preposterous insinuated themselves in his brain. Thus, for hours on end +he writhed under the belief that his present illness was due solely to +the proximity of the Great Swamp, and lay and cursed his folly in +having chosen just this neighbourhood to build in. Again, there was the +case of typhoid he had been anxious about, prior to his own breakdown: +under his LOCUM, peritonitis had set in and carried off the patient. At +the time he had accepted the news from Polly's lips with +indifference—too ill to care. But a little later the knowledge of what +it meant broke over him, and he suffered the tortures of the damned. +Not Brace; he alone would be held responsible for the death; and +perhaps not altogether unjustly. Lying there, a prey to morbid +apprehensions, he rebuilt the case in memory, struggling to recall each +slight variation in temperature, each swift change for better or worse; +but as fast as he captured one such detail, his drowsy brain let the +last but one go, and he had to beat it up anew. During the night he +grew confident that the relatives of the dead woman intended to take +action against him, for negligence or improper attendance. +</P> + +<P> +An attempt to speak of these devilish imaginings to wife and friend was +a failure. He undertook it in a fit of desperation, when it seemed as +if only a strong and well grounded opposition would save his reason. +But this was just what he could not get. Purdy, whom he tried first, +held the crude notion that a sick person should never be gainsaid; and +soothingly sympathised and agreed, till Mahony could have cried aloud +at such blundering stupidity. Polly did better; she contradicted him. +But not in the right way. She certainly pooh-poohed his idea of the +nearness of Yuille's Swamp making the house unhealthy; but she did not +argue the matter, step by step, and CONVINCE him that he was wrong. She +just laughed at him as at a foolish child, and kissed him, and tucked +him in anew. And when it came to the typhoid's fatal issue, she had not +the knowledge needed to combat him with any chance of success. She +heard him anxiously out, and allowed herself to be made quite nervous +over a possible fault on his part, so jealous was she for his growing +reputation. +</P> + +<P> +So that in the end it was he who had to comfort her. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't take any notice of what I say to-day, wife. It's this blessed +fever.... I'm light-headed, I think." +</P> + +<P> +But he could hear her uneasily consulting with Purdy in the passage. +</P> + +<P> +It was not till his pulse beat normally again that he could smile at +his exaggerated fears. Now, too, reviving health brought back a +wholesome interest in everyday affairs. He listened with amusement to +Polly's account of the shifts Purdy was reduced to, to enter the house +unseen by Miss Tilly. On his faithful daily call, the young man would +creep round by the back door, and Tilly was growing more and more irate +at her inability to waylay him. Yes, Polly was rather redly forced to +admit, she HAD abetted him in his evasions. ("You know, Poll, I might +just as well tie myself up to old Mother B. herself and be done with +it!") Out of sheer pique Tilly had twice now accepted old Mr. Ocock's +invitation to drive with him. Once, she had returned with a huge bag of +lollies; and once, with a face like a turkey-cock. Polly couldn't help +thinking ... no, really, Richard, she could not! ... that perhaps +something might COME of it. He should not laugh; just wait and see. +</P> + +<P> +Many inquiries had been made after him. People had missed their doctor, +it seemed, and wanted him back. It was a real red-letter day when he +could snap to the catches of his gloves again, and mount the step of a +buggy. +</P> + +<P> +He had instructed Purdy to arrange for the hire of this vehicle, +saddle-work being out of the question for him in the meantime. And on +his first long journey—it led him past Doyle's hut, now, he was sorry +to see, in the hands of strangers; for the wife, on the way to making a +fair recovery, had got up too soon, overtaxed her strength and died, +and the broken-hearted husband was gone off no one knew where—on this +drive, as mile after mile slid from under the wheels, Mahony felt how +grateful was the screen of a hood between him and the sun. +</P> + +<P> +While he was laid up, the eternal question of how to live on his income +had left him, relatively speaking, in peace. He had of late adopted the +habit of doing his scraping and saving at the outset of each quarter, +so as to get the money due to Ocock put by betimes. His illness had +naturally made a hole in this; and now the living from hand to mouth +must begin anew. +</P> + +<P> +With what remained of Doyle's money he proposed to settle his account +at the livery-stable. Then the unexpected happened. His +reappearance—he looked very thin and washed-out—evidently jogged a +couple of sleepy memories. Simultaneously two big bills were paid, one +of which he had entirely given up. In consequence, he again found +himself fifty pounds to the good. And driving to Ocock's office, on +term day, he resolved to go on afterwards to the Bank of Australasia +and there deposit this sum. +</P> + +<P> +Grindle, set off by a pair of flaming "sideboards," himself ushered +Mahony into the sanctum, and the affair was disposed of in a trice. +Ocock was one of the busiest of men nowadays—he no longer needed to +invent sham clients and fictitious interviews—and he utilised the few +odd minutes it took to procure a signature, jot down a note, open a +drawer, unlock a tin box to remark abstractedly on the weather and put +a polite inquiry: "And your good lady? In the best of health, I trust?" +</P> + +<P> +On emerging from the inner room, Mahony saw that the places formerly +filled by Tom and Johnny were occupied by strangers; and he was +wondering whether it would be indiscreet to ask what had become of the +brothers, when Ocock cut across his intention. "By the way, Jenkins, +has that memorandum I spoke of been drawn up?" he turned to a clerk. +</P> + +<P> +With a sheet of foolscap in his hand, he invited Mahony with a beck of +the chin to re-enter his room. "Half a moment! Now, doctor, if you +happen to have a little money lying idle, I can put you on to a good +thing—a very good thing indeed. I don't know, I'm sure, whether you +keep an eye on the fluctuations of the share-market. If so, you'll no +doubt have noticed the ... let me say the extreme instability of +'Porepunkahs.' After making an excellent start, they have dropped till +they are now to be had at one-twentieth of their original value." +</P> + +<P> +He did not take much interest in mining matters was Mahony's reply. +However he knew something of the claim in question, if only because +several of his acquaintances had abandoned their shares, in disgust at +the repeated calls and the lack of dividends. +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly. Well now, doctor, I'm in a position to inform you that +'Porepunkahs' will very shortly be prime favourites on the market, +selling at many times their original figure—their ORIGINAL figure, +sir! No one with a few hundreds to spare could find a better +investment. Now is the time to buy." +</P> + +<P> +A few hundreds! ... what does he take me for? thought Mahony; and +declined the transaction off-hand. It was very good of Mr. Ocock to +think of him; but he preferred to keep clear of that kind of thing. +</P> + +<P> +"Quite so, quite so!" returned Ocock suavely, and dry-washed his hands +with the smile Mahony had never learnt to fathom. "Just as you please, +of course.—I'll only ask you, doctor, to treat the matter as strictly +confidential." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose he says the same to everyone he tells," was Mahony's comment +as he flicked up his horse; and he wondered what the extent might be of +the lawyer's personal interest in the "Porepunkah Company." Probably +the number of shareholders was not large enough to rake up the capital. +</P> + +<P> +Still, the incident gave him food for thought, and only after closing +time did he remember his intention of driving home by way of the Bank. +</P> + +<P> +Later in the day he came back on the incident, and pondered his abrupt +refusal of Ocock's offer. There was nothing unusual in this: he never +took advice well; and, was it forced upon him, nine times out of ten a +certain inborn contrariness drove him to do just the opposite. Besides, +he had not yet learned to look with lenience on the rage for +speculation that had seized the people of Ballarat; and he held that it +would be culpable for a man of his slender means to risk money in the +great game.—But was there any hint of risk in the present instance? To +judge from Ocock's manner, the investment was as safe as a house, and +lucrative to a degree that made one's head swim. "Many times their +original figure!" An Arabian-nights fashion of growing rich, and no +mistake! Very different from the laborious grind of HIS days, in which +he had always to reckon with the chance of not being paid at all. That +very afternoon had brought him a fresh example of this. He was +returning from the Old Magpie Lead, where he had been called to a case +of scarlet fever, and saw himself covering the same road daily for some +time to come. But he had learned to adjudge his patients in a winking; +and these, he could swear to it, would prove to be non-payers; of a +kind even to cut and run, once the child was out of danger. Was he +really justified, cramped for money as he was, in rejecting the +straight tip Ocock had given him? And he debated this moot +point—argued his need against his principles—the whole way home. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as he had changed and seen his suspect clothing hung out to +air, he went impetuously back to Ocock's office. He had altered his +mind. A small gift from a grateful patient: yes, fifty, please; they +might bring him luck.—And he saw his name written down as the owner of +half a hundred shares. +</P> + +<P> +After this, he took a new interest in the mining sheet of the STAR; +turned to it, indeed, first of all. For a week, a fortnight, +"Porepunkahs" remained stationary; then they made a call, and, if he +did not wish to forfeit, he had to pay out as many shillings as he held +shares. A day or two later they sank a trifle, and Mahony's hopes with +them. There even came a day when they were not mentioned; and he gave +up his money for lost. But of a sudden they woke to life again, took an +upward bound, and within a month were quoted at five pounds—on rumour +alone. "Very sensitive indeed," said the STAR. Purdy, his only +confidant, went about swearing at himself for having let the few he +owned lapse; and Mahony itched to sell. He could now have banked two +hundred and fifty pounds. +</P> + +<P> +But Ocock laughed him out of countenance—even went so far as to pat +him on the shoulder. On no account was he to think of selling. "Sit +tight, doctor ... sit tight! Till I say the word." +</P> + +<P> +And Mahony reluctantly obeyed. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0309"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter IX +</H3> + +<P> +In the course of the following winter John Turnham came to stand as one +of two candidates for the newly proclaimed electoral district of +Ballarat West. +</P> + +<P> +The first news his relatives had of his intention was gleaned from the +daily paper. Mahony lit on the paragraph by chance one morning; said: +"Hullo! Here's something that will interest you, my dear," and read it +aloud. +</P> + +<P> +Polly laid down her knife and fork, pushed her plate from her, and went +pink with pleasure and surprise. "Richard! You don't mean it!" she +exclaimed, and got up to look over his shoulder. Yes, there it +was—John's name in all the glory of print. "Mr. John Millibank +Turnham, one of the foremost citizens and most highly respected +denizens of our marvellous metropolis, and a staunch supporter of +democratic rights and the interests of our people." Polly drew a deep +breath. "Do you know, Richard, I shouldn't wonder if he came to live on +Ballarat—I mean if he gets in.—Does Trotty hear? This is Trotty's +papa they're writing about in the papers.—Of course we must ask him to +stay with us." For this happened during an interregnum, when the spare +room was temporarily out of use. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course we must do nothing of the kind. Your brother will need the +best rooms Bath's can give him; and when he's not actually on the +hustings, he'll be hobnobbing in the bar, standing as many drinks as +there are throats in the crowd," gave back Mahony, who had the lowest +possible opinion of colonial politics. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, at least I can write and tell him how delighted we are," said +Polly, not to be done. +</P> + +<P> +"Find out first, my dear, if there's any truth in the report. I can +hardly think John would have left us in the dark to this extent." +</P> + +<P> +But John corroborated the news; and, in the letter Polly read out a +week later, announced the opening of his campaign for the coming month. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +I SHALL FEEL MUCH OBLIGED TO YOUR HUSBAND IF HE WILL MEANWHILE EXERT +HIS INFLUENCE ON MY BEHALF. HE IS NO DOUBT ACQUAINTED PROFESSIONALLY +WITH MANY OF THE LEADING SQUATTERS ROUND BALLARAT, WHOM HE CAN INDUCE +TO SUPPORT MY CANDIDATURE. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Umph!" said Mahony grumpily, and went on scooping out his egg. "We're +good enough to tout for him." +</P> + +<P> +"Ssh!" warned Polly, with a glance at Trotty. "Think what it means to +him, Richard, and to us, too. It will do your practice ever so much +good if he gets in—to be the brother-in-law of the member! We must +help all we can, dear." +</P> + +<P> +She was going driving to Yarangobilly that day with Archdeacon Long to +see a new arrival Richard had recently brought into the world; and now +she laid plans to kill two birds with one stone, entering into the +scheme with a gusto that astonished Mahony. "Upon my word, wife, I +believe you're glad to have something to do." +</P> + +<P> +"Will my own papa gimme a dolly? ... like Uncle Papa?" here piped +Trotty. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps. But you will have to be a VERY good girl, and not talk with +your mouth full or dirty your pinnies. Oh, here's a postscript!" Polly +had returned to the sheet, and was gloating over it. "John writes: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"ESPECIALLY MUST HE ENDEAVOUR TO WIN LAWYER OCOCK OVER TO MY SIDE. I +LAY GREAT WEIGHT ON O.'S SUPPORT. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard, now ISN'T that unfortunate? I do hope it won't make any +difference to John's chances." +</P> + +<P> +Polly's dismay had good grounds. A marked coolness had sprung up +between her husband and the lawyer; and on no account, she knew, would +Richard consent to approach Mr. Henry. Some very hot remarks made by +the latter had been passed on to her by Mrs. Glendinning. She had not +dared to tell Richard the worst. +</P> + +<P> +The coolness dated from an afternoon when Tilly Beamish had burst into +the house in a state of rampant excitement. "Oh, Polly! oh, I say! my +dear, whatever do you think? That old cove—old O.—'as actually had +the cheek to make me a proposal." +</P> + +<P> +"Tilly!" gasped Polly, and flushed to the roots of her hair. "Oh, my +dear, I AM pleased!" For Polly's conscience was still somewhat tender +about the aid she had lent Purdy in his evasions. The two women kissed, +and Tilly cried a little. "It's certainly her first offer," thought +Mrs. Polly. Aloud, she asked hesitatingly: "And do you ... shall you +... I mean, are you going to accept him, Tilly?" +</P> + +<P> +But this was just where Tilly could not make up her mind: should she +take him, or should she not? For two whole days she sat about debating +the question; and Polly listened to her with all the sympathy and +interest so momentous a step deserved. +</P> + +<P> +"If you feel you could really learn to care for him, dear. Of course it +WOULD be nice for you to have a house of your own. And how happy it +would make poor mother to see you settled!" +</P> + +<P> +Tilly tore the last veil from her feelings, uttered gross confidences. +Polly knew well enough where her real inclination lay. "I've hoped +against hope, Poll, that a CERTAIN PERSON would come to the scratch at +last." Yes, it was true enough, he had nothing to offer her; but she +wasn't the sort to have stuck at that. "I'd have worked my hands to the +bone for 'im, Poll, if 'e'd ONLY said the word." The one drawback to +marriage with "you know 'oo" would have been his infirmity. "Some'ow, +Polly, I can't picture myself dragging a husband with a gammy leg at my +heels." From this, Tilly's mind glanced back to the suitor who had +honourably declared himself. Of course "old O." hadn't a great deal of +the gentleman about him; and their ages were unsuitable. "'E owns to +fifty-eight, and as you know, Poll, I'm only just turned twenty-five," +at which Polly drooped her head a little lower over the handkerchief +she was hemming, to avoid meeting her friend's eye. Poor dear Tilly! +she would never see thirty again; and she need hardly have troubled, +thought Polly, to be insincere with her. But in the same breath she +took back the reproach. A woman herself, she understood something of +the fear, and shame, and heartburning that had gone to the making of +the lie. Perhaps, too, it was a gentle hint from Tilly what age she now +wished to be considered. And so Polly agreed, and said tenderly: yes, +certainly, the difference was very marked. Meanwhile Tilly flowed on. +These were the two chief objections. On the other hand, the old boy was +ludicrously smitten; and she thought one might trust her, Tilly B., to +soon knock him into shape. It would also, no doubt, be possible to +squeeze a few pounds out of him towards assisting "pa and ma" in their +present struggle. Again, as a married woman she would have a chance of +helping Jinny to find a husband: "Though Jinn's gone off so, Polly, I +bet you'd hardly know her if you met 'er in the street." To end all, a +bird in hand, etc.; and besides, what prospects had she, if she +remained a spinster? +</P> + +<P> +So, when she was asked, Tilly accepted without further humming and +hawing an invitation to drive out in the smart dog-cart Mr. Ocock had +hired for the purpose; and Polly saw her off with many a small private +sign of encouragement. All went well. A couple of hours later Tilly +came flying in, caught Polly up in a bear's hug, and danced her round +the room. "My dear, wish me joy!—Oh, lor, Polly, I DO feel 'appy!" She +was wearing a large half-hoop of diamonds on her ring-finger: nothing +would do "old O." but that they should drive there and then to the +finest jeweller's in Sturt Street, where she had the pick of a trayful. +And now Mr. Ocock, all a-smirk with sheepish pride, was fetched in to +receive congratulations, and Polly produced refreshments; and healths +were drunk. Afterwards the happy couple dallied in the passage and +loitered on the doorstep, till evening was far advanced. +</P> + +<P> +It was Polly who, in clearing away, was struck dumb by the thought: +"But now whatever is to become of Miss Amelia?" +</P> + +<P> +She wondered if this consideration troubled the old man. Trouble there +was, of some sort: he called at the house three days running for a word +with Richard. He wore a brand-new pair of shepherd's-plaid trousers, a +choker that his work-stained hands had soiled in tying, a black coat, a +massive gold watch-chain. On the third visit he was lucky enough to +catch Mahony, and the door of the surgery closed behind them. +</P> + +<P> +Here Mr. Ocock sat on the extreme edge of a chair; alternately crushed +his wide-awake flat between his palms and expanded it again, as though +he were playing a concertina; and coughed out a wordy preamble. He +assured Mahony, to begin with, how highly he esteemed him. It was +because of this, because he knew doctor was as straight as a pound of +candles, that he was going to ask his advice on an awkward +matter—devilish awkward!—one nobody had any idea of either—except +Henry. And Henry had kicked up such a deuce of a row at his wanting to +marry again, that he was damned if he'd have anything more to do with +him. Besides, the doctor knew what lawyers were—the whole breed of +'em! Sharp as needles—especially Henry—but with a sort of squint in +their upper storey that made 'em see every mortal thing from the point +of view of law. And that was no good to him. What he needed was a plain +and honest, a ... he hesitated for a word and repeated, "a Honest +opinion;" for he only wanted to do the right thing, what was straight +and above board. And at last out it came: did "doc." think it would be +acting on the square, and not taking a low-down advantage of a female, +if he omitted to mention to "the future Mrs. O" that, up till six +months back, he had been obliged to ... well, he'd spit it out short +and say, obliged to report himself to the authorities at fixed +intervals? Women were such shy cattle, so damned odd! You never knew +how they'd take a thing like this. One might raise Cain over it, +another only laugh, another send him packing. He didn't want to let a +fine young woman like Matilda slip if he could help it, by dad he +didn't! But he felt he must either win her by fair dealing or not at +all. And having got the load off his chest, the old colonist swallowed +hard, and ran the back of his hand over his forehead. +</P> + +<P> +He had kept his eyes glued to the table-leg in speaking, and so saw +neither his hearer's involuntary start at the damaging disclosure, nor +the nervous tightening of the hand that lay along the arm of the chair. +Mahony sat silent, balancing a paper-knife, and fighting down a feeling +of extraordinary discomfort—his very finger-tips curled under the +strain. It was of little use to remind himself that, ever since he had +known him, Ocock had led a decent, God-fearing life, respected both in +his business relations and by his brethren of the chapel. Nor could he +spare more than a glance in passing for those odd traits in the old +man's character which were now explained: his itch for public approval; +his unvarying harshness towards the pair of incorrigibles who weighed +him down. At this moment he discounted even the integrity that had +prompted the confession. His attitude of mind was one of: why the deuce +couldn't the old fool have held his tongue? +</P> + +<P> +Oh, these unbidden, injudicious confidences! How they complicated life! +And as a doctor he was pestered with only too many; he was continually +being forced to see behind the scenes. Now, outsiders, too, must needs +choose him for the storehouse of their privacies. Himself he never made +a confidence; but it seemed as though just this buttoned-upness on his +part loosened people's tongues. Blind to the flags of warning he +hoisted in looks and bearing, they innocently proceeded, as Ocock had +done, to throw up insurmountable barriers. He could hear a new tone in +his own voice when he replied, and was relieved to know the old man +dull of perception. For now Ocock had finished speaking, and sat +perspiring with anxiety to learn his fate. Mahony pulled himself +together; he could, in good faith, tender the advice to let the dead +past bury its dead. Whatever the original fault had been—no, no, +please! ... and he raised an arresting hand—it was, he felt sure, long +since fully atoned. And Mr. Ocock had said a true word: women were +strange creatures. The revelation of his secret might shipwreck his +late-found happiness. It also, of course, might not—and personally +Mahony did not believe it would; for Ocock's buisness throve like the +green bay-tree, and Miss Tilly had been promised a fine two-storeyed +house, with bow-windows and a garden, and a carriage-drive up to the +door. Again, the admission might be accepted in peace just now, and +later on used as a weapon against him. In his, Mahony's, eyes, by far +the wisest course would be, to let the grass grow over the whole affair. +</P> + +<P> +And here he rose, abruptly terminating the interview. "You and I, too, +sir, if you please, will forget what has passed between us this +morning, and never come back on it. How is Tom getting on in the +drapery business? Does he like his billet?" +</P> + +<P> +But none the less as he ushered his visitor out, he felt that there was +a certain finality about the action. It was—as far as his private +feelings were concerned—the old man's moral exit from the scene. +</P> + +<P> +On the doorstep Ocock hoped that nothing that had been said would reach +"your dear little lady." "To 'Enry, too, doc., if you'll be so good, +mum's the word! 'Enry 'ud never forgive me, nay, or you eether, if it +got to 'is 'ears I'd bin an' let the cat outer the bag. An' 'e's got a +bit of a down on you as it is, for it 'avin' bin your place I met the +future Mrs. O. at." +</P> + +<P> +"My good man!" broke from Mahony—and in this address, which would +previously never have crossed his lips, all his sensations of the past +hour were summed up. "Has your son Henry the"—he checked himself; +"does he suppose I—I or my wife—had anything to do with it?" +</P> + +<P> +He turned back to the surgery hot with annoyance. This, too! Not enough +that he must be put out of countenance by indiscreet babbling; he must +also get drawn into family squabbles, even be held responsible for +them: he who, brooking no interference in his own life, demanded only +that those about him should be as intolerant as he. +</P> + +<P> +It all came from Polly's indiscriminate hospitality. His house was +never his own. And now they had the prospect of John and his electoral +campaign before them. And John's chances of success, and John's stump +oratory, and the backstair-work other people were expected to do for +him would form the main theme of conversation for many a day to come. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Glendinning confirmed old Ocock's words. +</P> + +<P> +She came to talk over the engagement with Polly, and sitting in the +parlour cried a little, and was sorry. But then "poor little Agnes" +cried so easily nowadays. Richard said her nerves had been shattered by +the terrible affair just before Christmas, when Mr. Glendinning had +tried first to kill her, and then to cut his own throat. +</P> + +<P> +Agnes said: "But I told Henry quite plainly, darling, that I would not +cease my visits to you on that account. It is both wrong and foolish to +think you or Dr. Mahony had anything to do with it—and after the +doctor was so kind, too, so VERY kind, about getting poor Mr. +Glendinning into the asylum. And so you see, dear, Henry and I have had +quite a disagreement"; and Agnes cried again at the remembrance. "Of +course, I can sympathise with his point of view.... Henry is so +ambitious. All the same, dearest, it's not quite so bad—is it?—as he +makes out. Matilda is certainly not very COMME IL FAUT—you'll forgive +my saying so, love, won't you? But I think she will suit Henry's father +in every way. No, the truth is, the old gentleman has made a great deal +of money, and we naturally expected it to fall to Henry at his death; +no one anticipated his marrying again. Not that Henry really needs the +money; he is getting on so well; and I have.... I shall have plenty, +too, by and by. But you know, love, what men are." +</P> + +<P> +"Dearest Agnes! ... don't fret about it. Mr. Henry thinks too much of +you, I'm sure, to be vexed with you for long. And when he looks at it +calmly, he'll see how unfair it is to make us responsible. I'm like +you, dear; I can't consider it a misfortune. Tilly is not a lady; but +she's a dear, warm-hearted girl and will make the old man a good wife. +I only hope though, Agnes, Mr. Henry won't say anything to Richard. +Richard is so touchy about things of that sort." +</P> + +<P> +The two women kissed, Polly with feelings of the tenderest affection: +the fact that, on behalf of their friendship, Agnes had pitted her will +against Mr. Henry's, endeared her to Polly as nothing else could have +done. +</P> + +<P> +But when, vigilant as a mother-hen, she sought to prepare her husband +for a possible unpleasantness, she found him already informed; and her +well-meant words were like a match laid to his suppressed indignation. +</P> + +<P> +"In all my born days I never heard such impudence!" +</P> + +<P> +He turned embarrassingly cool to Tilly. And Tilly, innocent of offence +and quite unskilled in deciphering subtleties, put this sudden change +of front down to jealousy, because she was going to live in a grander +house than he did. For the same reason he had begun to turn up his nose +at "Old O.," or she was very much mistaken; and in vain did Polly +strive to convince her that she was in error. "I don't know anyone +Richard has a higher opinion of!" +</P> + +<P> +But it was a very uncomfortable state of things; and when a message +arrived over the electric telegraph announcing the dangerous illness of +Mrs. Beamish, distressed though she was by the news, Polly could not +help heaving a tiny sigh of relief. For Tilly was summoned back to +Melbourne with all speed, if she wished to see her mother alive. +</P> + +<P> +They mingled their tears, Polly on her knees at the packing, Tilly +weeping whole-heartedly among the pillows of the bed. +</P> + +<P> +"If it 'ad only been pa now, I shouldn't have felt it half so much," +and she blew her nose for the hundredth time. "Pa was always such a rum +old stick. But poor ma ... when I THINK how she's toiled and moiled 'er +whole life long, to keep things going. She's 'ad all the pains and none +of the pleasures; and now, just when I was hoping to be able to give +'er a helping hand, THIS must happen." +</P> + +<P> +The one bright spot in Tilly's grief was that the journey would be made +in a private conveyance. Mr. Ocock had bought a smart gig and was +driving her down himself; driving past the foundations of the new +house, along the seventy odd miles of road, right up to the door of the +mean lodging in a Collingwood back street, where the old Beamishes had +hidden their heads. "If only she's able to look out of the window and +see me dash up in my own turn-out!" said Tilly. +</P> + +<P> +Polly fitted out a substantial luncheon-basket, and was keenest +sympathy to the last. But Mahony was a poor dissembler; and his sudden +thaw, as he assisted in the farewell preparations, could, Polly feared, +have been read aright by a child. +</P> + +<P> +Tilly hugged Polly to her, and gave her kiss after kiss. "I shall NEVER +forget 'ow kind you've been, Poll, and all you've done for me. I've had +my disappointments 'ere, as you know; but p'raps after all it'll turn +out to be for the best. One o' the good sides to it anyhow is that you +and me'll be next-door neighbours, so to say, for the rest of our +lives. And I'll hope to see something of you, my dear, every blessed +day. But you'll not often catch me coming to this house, I can tell you +that! For, if you won't mind me saying so, Poll, I think you've got one +of the queerest sticks for a husband that ever walked this earth. Blows +hot one day and cold the next, for all the world like the wind in +spring. And without caring twopence whose corns 'e treads on."—Which, +thought Polly, was but a sorry return on Tilly's part for Richard's +hospitality. After all, it was his house she had been a guest in. +</P> + +<P> +Such were the wheels within wheels. And thus it came about that, when +the question rose of paving the way for John Turnham's candidature, +Mahony drew the line at approaching Henry Ocock. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0310"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter X +</H3> + +<P> +John drove from Melbourne in a drag and four, accompanied by numerous +friends and well-wishers. A mile or so out of Ballarat, he was met by a +body of supporters headed by a brass band, and escorted in triumph to +the George Hotel. Here, the horses having been led away, John at once +took the field by mounting the box-seat of the coach and addressing the +crowd of idlers that had gathered round to watch the arrival. He got an +excellent hearing—so Jerry reported, who was an eye and ear-witness of +the scene—and was afterwards borne shoulder-high into the hotel. +</P> + +<P> +With Jerry at his heels, Mahony called at the hotel that evening. He +found John entertaining a large impromptu party. The table of the +public dining-room was disorderly with the remains of a liberal meal; +napkins lay crushed and flung down among plates piled high with empty +nutshells; the cloth was wine-stained, and bestrewn with ashes and +breadcrumbs, the air heady with the fumes of tobacco. Those of the +guests who still lingered at the table had pushed their chairs back or +askew, and sat, some a-straddle, some even with their feet on the +cloth. John was confabbing with half a dozen black-coats in a corner. +Each held a wineglass in his hand from which he sipped, while John, +legs apart, did all the talking, every now and then putting out his +forefinger to prod one of his hearers on the middle button of the +waistcoat. It was some time before he discovered the presence of his +relatives; and Mahony had leisure to admire the fashion in which, this +corner-talk over, John dispersed himself among the company; drinking +with this one and that; glibly answering questions; patting a +glum-faced brewer on the back; and simultaneously checking over, with +an oily-haired agent, his committee-meetings for the following days. +His customary arrogance and pompousness of manner were laid aside. For +the nonce, he was a simple man among men. +</P> + +<P> +Then espying them, he hurried over, and rubbing his hands with pleasure +said warmly: "My dear Mahony, this is indeed kind! Jerry, my lad, how +do, how do? Still growing, I see! We'll make a fine fellow of you +yet.— Well, doctor! ... we've every reason, I think, to feel satisfied +with the lie of the land." +</P> + +<P> +But here he was snatched from them by an urgent request for a +pronouncement—"A quite informal word, sir, if you'll be so good,"—on +the vexed question of vote by ballot. And this being a pet theme of +John's, and a principle he was ready to defend through thick and thin, +he willingly complied. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony had no further talk with him. The speech over—it was a concise +and spirited utterance, and, if you were prepared to admit the efficacy +of the ballot, convincing enough—Mahony quietly withdrew. He had to +see a patient at eleven. Polly, too, would probably be lying awake for +news of her brother. +</P> + +<P> +As he threw back his braces and wound up his watch, he felt it +incumbent on him to warn her not to pitch her hopes too high. "You +mustn't expect, my dear, that your brother's arrival will mean much to +us. He is now a public man, and will have little time for small people +like ourselves. I'm bound to admit, Polly, I was very favourably +impressed by the few words I heard him say," he added. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard, I'm SO glad!" and Polly, who had been sitting on the edge +of the bed, stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss. +</P> + +<P> +As Mahony predicted, John's private feelings went down before the +superior interests of his campaign. Three days passed before he found +time to pay his sister a visit; and Polly, who had postponed a washing, +baked her richest cakes and pastries, and clad Trotty in her Sunday +best each day of the three: Polly was putting a good face on the +matter, and consoling herself with Jerry's descriptions of John's +triumphs. How she wished she could hear some of the speechifying! But +Richard would never consent; and electioneering did certainly seem, +from what Jerry said, a very rough-and-ready business—nothing for +ladies. Hence her delight knew no bounds when John drove up +unexpectedly late one afternoon, between a hard day's personal +canvassing and another of the innumerable dinners he had to eat his way +through. Tossing the reins to the gentleman who sat next him, he jumped +out of the wagonette—it was hung with placards of "Vote for +Turnham!"—and gave a loud rat-a-tat at the door. +</P> + +<P> +Forgetting in her excitement that this was Ellen's job, Polly opened to +him herself, and drew him in. "John! How pleased I am to see you!" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear girl, how are you? God bless me, how you've altered! I should +never have known you." He held her at arm's length, to consider her. +</P> + +<P> +"But you haven't changed in the least, John. Except to grow younger.— +Richard, here's John at last!—and Trotty, John ... here's Trotty!— +Take your thumb out of your mouth, naughty girl!—She's been watching +for you all day, John, with her nose to the window." And Polly pushed +forward the scarlet, shrinking child. +</P> + +<P> +John's heartiness suffered a distinct check as his eyes lit on Trotty, +who stood stiff as a bit of Dresden china in her bunchy starched +petticoats. "Come here, Emma, and let me look at you." Taking the fat +little chin between thumb and first finger, he turned the child's face +up and kept it so, till the red button of a mouth trembled, and the +great blue eyes all but ran over. "H'm! Yes ... a notable resemblance +to her mother. Ah, time passes, Polly my dear—time passes!" He sighed. +—"I hope you mind your aunt, Emma, and are properly grateful to her?" +</P> + +<P> +Abruptly quitting his hold, he swept the parlour with a glance. "A very +snug little place you have here, upon my word!" +</P> + +<P> +While Polly, with Trotty pattering after, bustled to the larder, Mahony +congratulated his brother-in-law on the more favourable attitude +towards his election policy which was becoming evident in the local +press. John's persuasive tongue was clearly having its effect, and the +hostility he had met with at the outset of his candidature was yielding +to more friendly feelings on all sides. John was frankly gratified by +the change, and did not hesitate to say so. When the wine arrived they +drank to his success, and Polly's delicacies met with their due share +of praise. Then, having wiped his mouth on a large silk handkerchief, +John disclosed the business object of his call. He wanted specific +information about the more influential of their friends and +acquaintances; and here he drew a list of names from his pocket-book. +Mahony, his chin propped on the flaxen head of the child, whom he +nursed, soon fell out of the running for Polly proved far the cleverer +at grasping the nature of the information John sought, and at retailing +it. And John complimented her on her shrewdness, ticked off names, took +notes on what she told him; and when he was not writing sat tapping his +thick, carnation-red underlip, and nodding assent. It was arranged that +Polly should drive out with him next day to Yarangobilly, by way of +Dandaloo; while for the evening after they plotted a card-party, at +which John might come to grips with Archdeacon Long. John expected to +find the reverend gentleman a hard nut to crack, their views on the +subject of a state aid to religion being diametrically opposed. Polly +thought a substantial donation to the chancel-fund might smooth things +over, while for John to display a personal interest in Mrs. Long's +charities would help still more. Then there were the Ococks. The old +man could be counted on, she believed; but John might have some +difficulty with Mr. Henry—and here she initiated her brother into the +domestic differences which had split up the Ocock family, and prevented +Richard from approaching the lawyer. John, who was in his most +democratic mood, was humorous at the expense of Henry, and declared the +latter should rather wish his father joy of coming to such a fine, +bouncing young wife in his old age. The best way of getting at Mr. +Henry, Polly considered, would be for Mrs Glendinning to give a +luncheon or a bushing-party, with the lawyer among the guests: "Then +you and I, John, could drive out and join them—either by chance or +invitation, as you think best." Polly was heart and soul in the affair. +</P> + +<P> +But business over, she put several straight questions about the boy, +little Johnny—Polly still blamed herself for having meekly submitted +to the child's removal from her charge—and was not to be fobbed off +with evasions. The unfavourable verdict she managed to worm out of +John: "Incorrigible, my dear Polly—utterly incorrigible! His masters +report him idle, disobedient, a bad influence on the other scholars," +she met staunchly with: "Perhaps it has something to do with the +school. Why not try another? Johnny had his good qualities; in many +ways was quite a lovable child." +</P> + +<P> +For the first time Mahony saw his wife and her eldest brother together +and he could not but be struck by Polly's attitude. Greatly as she +admired and reverenced John, there was not a particle of obsequiousness +in her manner, nor any truckling to his point of view; and she plainly +felt nothing of the peculiar sense of discomfort that invariably +attacked him, in John's presence. Either she was not conscious of her +brother's grossly patronising air, or, aware of it, did not resent it, +John having always been so much her superior in age and position. Or +was it indeed the truth that John did not try to patronise Polly? That +his overbearing nature recognised in hers a certain springy resistance, +which was not to be crushed? In other words, that, in a Turnham, +Turnham blood met its match. +</P> + +<P> +John re-took his seat in the front of the wagonette, Trotty was lifted +up to see the rosettes and streamers adorning the horses, the gentlemen +waved their hats, and off they went again at a fine pace, and with a +whip-cracking that brought the neighbours to their windows. +</P> + +<P> +Polly had pink cheeks with it all, and even sought to excuse the meagre +interest John had shown in his daughter. "Trotty was only a baby in +arms when he saw her last. Besides, I think she reminded him too much +of her dear mother. For I'm sure, though he doesn't let it be seen, +John still feels his loss." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder!" said Mahony slowly and with a strong downward inflection, +as he turned indoors. +</P> + +<P> +On the eve of the polling Polly had the honour of accompanying her +brother to a performance at the Theatre Royal. A ticket came for +Richard, too; but, as usual, he was at the last moment called out. So +Purdy took her on his arm and escorted her—not exactly comfortably; +for, said Polly, no one who had not tried it, knew how hard it was to +walk arm-in-arm with a lame person, especially if you did not want to +hurt his feelings—Purdy took her to the theatre, helped her to +unmuffle and to change her boots, and bore her company till her brother +arrived. They had seats in the centre of the front row of the dress +circle; all eyes were turned on them as they entered; and Polly's +appearance was the subject of audible and embarrassing comment. +</P> + +<P> +In every interval John was up and away, to shake a hand here, pass the +time of day there; and watching him with affectionate pride, Polly +wondered how Richard could ever have termed him "high-handed and +difficult." John had the knack, it seemed to her, of getting on with +people of every class, and of always finding the right word to say. But +as the evening advanced his seat remained empty even while the curtain +was up, and she was glad when, between the fourth and fifth acts, her +husband at last appeared. +</P> + +<P> +On his way to her Mahony ran into his brother-in-law, and John +buttonholed him to discuss with him the prospects of the morrow. As +they talked, their eyes rested on Polly's glossy black chignon; on the +nape of her white neck; on the beautiful, rounded young shoulders +which, in obedience to the fashion, stood right out of her blue silk +bodice. Mahony shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. +He could not imagine Polly enjoying her exposed position, and +disapproved strongly of John having left her. But for all answer to the +hint he threw out John said slowly, and with a somewhat unctuous +relish: "My sister has turned into a remarkably handsome woman!"—words +which sent the lightning-thought through Mahony that, had Polly +remained the insignificant little slip of a thing of earlier days, she +would not have been asked to fill the prominent place she did this +evening. +</P> + +<P> +John sent his adieux and excuses to Polly. He had done what was +expected of him, in showing himself at a public entertainment, and a +vast mass of correspondence lay unsorted on his desk. So Mahony moved +forward alone. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard, there you are! Oh dear, what you've missed! I never +thought there could be such acting." And Polly turned her great dark +eyes on her husband; they were moist from the noble sentiments of THE +TRUE BRITON. +</P> + +<P> +The day of the election broke, a gusty spring day cut up by stinging +hail-showers, which beat like fusillades on the galvanised iron roofs. +Between the showers, the sun shone in a gentian-blue sky, against which +the little wooden houses showed up crassly white. Ballarat made +holiday. Early as Mahony left home, he met a long line of conveyances +heading townwards—spring carts, dogcarts, double and single buggies, +in some of which, built to seat two only, five or six persons were +huddled. These and similar vehicles drew up in rows outside the +public-houses, where the lean, long-legged colonial horses stood +jerking at their tethers; and they were still there, still jerking, +when he passed again toward evening. On a huge poster the "Unicorn" +offered to lunch free all those "thinking men" who registered their +vote for "the one and only true democrat, the miners' friend and +tyrants' foe, John Turnham." +</P> + +<P> +In the hope of avoiding a crush Mahony drove straight to the +polling-booth. But already all the loafers and roughs in the place +seemed to be congregated round the entrance, after the polite custom of +the country to chivy, or boo, or huzza those who went in. In waiting +his turn, he had to listen to comments on his dress and person, to put +up with vulgar allusions to blue pills and black draughts. +</P> + +<P> +Just as he was getting back into his buggy John rode up, flanked by a +bodyguard of friends; John was galloping from booth to booth, to verify +progress and put the thumbscrew on wobblers. He beamed—as well he +might. He was certain to be one of the two members elected, and quite +likely to top the poll by a respectable majority. +</P> + +<P> +For once Mahony did not grumble at his outlying patients; was only too +thankful to turn his back on the town. It was pandemonium. Bands of +music, one shriller and more discordant than the next, marched up and +down the main streets—from the fifes and drums of the Fire Brigade, to +the kerosene-tins and penny-whistles of mere determined noise-makers. +Straggling processions, with banners that bore the distorted features +of one or other of the candidates, made driving difficult; and, to add +to the confusion, the schoolchildren were let loose, to overrun the +place and fly advertisement balloons round every corner.—And so it +went on till far into the night, the dark hours being varied by +torchlight processions, fireworks, free fights and orgies of +drunkenness. +</P> + +<P> +The results of the polling were promised for two o'clock the following +day. +</P> + +<P> +When, something after this hour Mahony reached home, he found Polly and +the gentle, ox-eyed Jinny Beamish, who was the present occupant of the +spare room, pacing up and down before the house. According to Jerry +news might be expected now at any minute. And when he had lunched and +changed his coat, Mahony, bitten by the general excitement, made his +way down to the junction of Sturt Street and the Flat. +</P> + +<P> +A great crowd blocked the approaches to the hustings. Here were the +four candidates, who, in attending the issue, strove to look decently +unconcerned. John had struck a quasi-Napoleonic attitude: his right +elbow propped in the cup of his left hand, he held his drooped chin +between thumb and forefinger, leaving it to his glancing black eyes to +reveal how entirely alive he was to the gravity of the moment. Standing +on the fringe of the crowd, Mahony listened to the piebald jokes and +rude wit with which the people beguiled the interim; and tried to +endure with equanimity the jostling, the profane language and offensive +odours, by which he was assailed. Half an hour elapsed before the +returning officer climbed the ladder at the back of the platform, and +came forward to announce the result of the voting: Mr. John Millibank +Turnham topped the poll with a majority of four hundred and fifty-two. +The crowd, which at sight of the clerk had abruptly ceased its fooling, +drowned his further statements in a roar of mingled cheers and boos. +The cheers had it; hats were tossed into the air, and loud cries for a +speech arose. John's advance to grip the railing led to a fresh +outburst, in which the weakening opposition was quashed by the singing +of: "When Johnny comes marching home!" and "Cheer, boys, cheer, For +home and mother country!"—an incongruity of sentiment that made Mahony +smile. And John, having repeatedly bowed his thanks from side to side, +joined in and sang with the rest. +</P> + +<P> +The opening of his speech was inaudible to Mahony. Just behind him +stood one of his brother-in-law's most arrant opponents, a butcher by +trade, and directly John began to hold forth this man produced a +cornet-a-piston and started to blow it. In vain did Mahony expostulate: +he seemed to have got into a very wasps'-nest of hostility; for the +player's friends took up the cudgels and baited him in a language he +would have been sorry to imitate, the butcher blaring away unmoved, +with the fierce solemnity of face the cornet demands. Mahony lost his +temper; his tormentors retaliated; and for a moment it looked as though +there would be trouble. Then a number of John's supporters, enraged by +the bellowing of the instrument, bore down and forcibly removed the +musician and his clique, Mahony along with them. +</P> + +<P> +Having indignantly explained, and shaken coat and collar to rights, he +returned to his place on the edge of the crowd. The speaker's deep +voice had gone steadily on during the disturbance. Indeed John might +have been born to the hustings. Interruptions did not put him out; he +was brilliant at repartee; and all the stock gestures of the public +speaker came at his call: the pounding of the bowl of one hand with the +closed fist of the other; the dramatic wave of the arm with which he +plumbed the depths or invited defiance; the jaunty standing-at-ease, +arms akimbo; the earnest bend from the waist when he took his hearers +into his confidence. At this moment he was gripping the rail of the +platform as though he intended to vault it, and asserting: "Our first +cry, then, is for men to people the country; our next, for +independence, to work out our own salvation. Yes, my friends, the +glorious future of this young and prosperous colony, which was once and +most auspiciously known as Australia Felix—blest, thrice-blest +Australia!—rests with ourselves alone. We who inhabit here can best +judge of her requirements, and we refuse to see her hampered in her +progress by the shackles of an ancient tradition. What suits our hoary +mother-country—God bless and keep her and keep us loyal to her!—is +but dry husks for us. England knows nothing of our most pressing needs. +I ask you to consider how, previous to 1855, that pretty pair of +mandarins, Lord John Russell and Earl Grey, boggled and botched the +crucial question of unlocking the lands even yet, gentlemen, the result +of their muddling lies heavy on us. And the Land Question, though first +in importance, is but one, as you know, of many"—and here John, +playing on the tips of five wide-stretched fingers, counted them off. +He wound up with a flaming plea for the creation and protection of +purely national industries. "For what, I would ask you, is the true +meaning of democracy in a country such as ours? What is, for us, the +democratic principle? The answer, my friends, is conservatism; yes, I +repeat it—conservatism!" ... and thus to a final peroration. +</P> + +<P> +In the braying and hurrahing that followed—the din was heightened by +some worthy mounting a barrel to move that "this yere Johnny Turnham" +was not a fit person to represent "the constitooency," by the barrel +being dragged from under him, and the speaker rolled in the mud; while +this went on Mahony stood silent, and he was still standing +meditatively pulling his whiskers when a sudden call for a doctor +reached his ear. He pushed his way to the front. +</P> + +<P> +How the accident happened no one knew. John had descended from the +platform to a verandah, where countless hands were stretched out to +shake his. A pile of shutters was leaning against the wall, and in some +unexplained fashion these had fallen, striking John a blow that knocked +him down. When Mahony got to him he was on his feet again, wiping a +drop of blood from his left temple. He looked pale, but pooh-poohed +injury or the idea of interfering with his audience's design; and +Mahony saw him shouldered and borne off. +</P> + +<P> +That evening there was a lengthy banquet, in which all the notables of +the place took part. Mahony's seat was some way off John's; he had to +lean forward, did he wish to see his brother-in-law. +</P> + +<P> +Towards eleven o'clock, just as he was wondering if he could slip out +unobserved, a hand was laid on his arm. John stood behind him, white to +the lips. "Can I have a word with you upstairs?" +</P> + +<P> +Here he confessed to a knife-like pain in his left side; the brunt of +the blow, it seemed, had met him slantways between rib and hip. A +cursory examination made Mahony look grave. +</P> + +<P> +"You must come back with me, John, and let me see to you properly." +</P> + +<P> +Having expressed the chief guest's regrets to the company, he ordered a +horse and trap, and helping John into it drove him home. And that night +John lay in their bed, letting out the groans he had suppressed during +the evening; while Polly snatched forty winks beside Jinny Beamish, and +Mahony got what sleep he could on the parlour sofa. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0311"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XI +</H3> + +<P> +There for some weeks John was a prisoner, with a fractured rib encased +in strips of plaster. "In your element again, old girl!" Mahony chaffed +his wife, when he met her bearing invalid trays. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it doesn't all fall on me, Richard. Jinny's a great help—sitting +with John and keeping him company." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony could see it for himself. Oftenest when he entered the room it +was Jinny's black-robed figure—she was in mourning for her parents; +for Mrs. Beamish had sunk under the twofold strain of failure and +disgrace, and the day after her death it had been necessary to cut old +Beamish down from a nail—oftenest it was Jinny he found sitting behind +a curtain of the tester-bed, watching while John slept, ready to read +to him or to listen to his talk when he awoke. This service set Polly +free to devote herself to the extra cooking; and John was content. "A +most modest and unassuming young woman," ran his verdict on Jinny. +</P> + +<P> +Polly reported it to her husband in high glee. "Who could ever have +believed two sisters would turn out so differently? Tilly to get so ... +so ... well, you know what I mean ... and Jinny to improve as she has +done. Have you noticed, Richard, she hardly ever—really quite seldom +now—drops an h? It must all have been due to Tilly serving in that low +bar." +</P> + +<P> +By the time John was so far recovered as to exchange bed for sofa, it +had come to be exclusively Jinny who carried in to him the dainties +Polly prepared—the wife as usual was content to do the dirty work! +John declared Miss Jinny had the foot of a fay; also that his meals +tasted best at her hands. Jinny even succeeded in making Trotty fond of +her; and the love of the fat, shy child was not readily won. Entering +the parlour one evening Mahony surprised quite a family scene: John, +stretched on the sofa, was stringing cats'-cradles, Jinny sat beside +him with Trotty on her knee. +</P> + +<P> +On the whole, though, the child did not warm to her father. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunty, kin dat man take me away f'om you?" +</P> + +<P> +"That man? Why, Trotty darling, he's your father!" said Polly, shocked. +</P> + +<P> +"Kin 'e take me away f'om you and Uncle Papa?" +</P> + +<P> +"He could if he wanted to. But I'm sure he doesn't," answered her aunt, +deftly turning a well-rolled sheet of pastry. +</P> + +<P> +And righting her dolly, which she had been dragging upside down, Trotty +let slip her fears with the sovereign ease of childhood. +</P> + +<P> +From the kitchen Polly could hear the boom of John's deep bass: it made +nothing of the lath-and-plaster walls. Of course, shut up as he was, he +had to talk to somebody, poor fellow; and Richard was too busy to spare +him more than half an hour of an evening. Jinny was a good listener. +Through the crack of the door, Polly could see her sitting humbly +drinking in John's words, and even looking rather pretty, in her fair, +full womanliness. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Polly!" she burst out one day, after being held thus spellbound. +"Oh, my dear, what a splendid man your brother is! I feel sometimes I +could sink through the floor with shame at my ignorance, when 'e talks +to me so." +</P> + +<P> +But as time went on Mahony noticed that his wife grew decidedly +thoughtful; and if John continued to sing Jinny's praises, he heard +nothing more of it. He had an acute suspicion what troubled Polly; but +did not try to force her confidence. +</P> + +<P> +Then one afternoon, on his getting home, she came into the surgery +looking very perturbed, and could hardly find words to break a certain +piece of news to him. It appeared that not an hour previously, Jinny, +flushed and tearful, had lain on her neck, confessing her feelings for +John and hinting at the belief that they were returned. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I think you might have been prepared for something of this sort, +Polly," he said with a shrug, when he had heard her out. "Convalescence +is notoriously dangerous for fanning the affections." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but I never DREAMT of such a thing, Richard! Jinny is a dear good +girl and all that, but she is NOT John's equal. And that he can even +THINK of putting her in poor Emma's place!—What shall I say to him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Say nothing at all. Your brother John is not the man to put up with +interference." +</P> + +<P> +"He longs so for a real home again, Polly darling," said Jinny, wiping +her eyes. "And HOW 'appy it will make me to fulfil 'is wish! Don't let +me feel unwelcome and an intruder, dear. I know I'm not nearly good +enough for 'im, and 'e could 'ave had the choice of ever such handsome +women. But 'e 'as promised to be patient with me, and to teach me +everything I ought to know." +</P> + +<P> +Polly's dismay at the turn of events yielded to a womanly sympathy with +her friend. "It's just like poor little Agnes and Mr. Henry over +again," was her private thought. For she could not picture John +stooping to guide and instruct. +</P> + +<P> +But she had been touched on a tender spot—that of ambitious pride for +those related to her—and she made what Mahony called "a real Turnham +attempt" to stand up to John. Against her husband's express advice. +</P> + +<P> +"For if your brother chooses to contract a mesalliance of this kind, +it's nobody's business but his own. Upon my word though, Polly, if you +don't take care, this house will get a bad name over the matches that +are made in it. You had better have your spare room boarded up, my +dear." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony was feeling particularly rasped by John's hoity-toity behaviour +in this connection. Having been nursed back to health, John went about +with his chin in the air, and hardly condescended to allude to his +engagement—let alone talk it over with his relatives. So Mahony +retired into himself—after all, the world of John's mind was so +dissimilar to his own that he did not even care to know what went on in +it. "The fellow has been caught on the hop by a buxom form and a +languishing eye," was how he dismissed the matter in thought. +</P> + +<P> +"I raise my wife to my own station, Mary. And you will greatly oblige +me by showing Jane every possible attention," was the only satisfaction +Polly could get from John, made in his driest tone. +</P> + +<P> +Before the engagement was a week old Tilly reappeared—she was to be +married from their house on the hither side of Christmas. At first she +was too full of herself and her own affairs to let either Polly or +Jinny get a word in. Just to think of it! That old cabbage-grower, +Devine, had gone and bought the block of land next the one Mr. O. was +building on. She'd lay a bet he would put up a house the dead spit of +theirs. Did ever anyone hear such cheek? +</P> + +<P> +At the news that was broken to her, the first time she paused for +breath, she let herself heavily down on a chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm blowed!" was all she could ejaculate. "Blowed!... that's +what I am." +</P> + +<P> +But afterwards, when Jinny had left the room, she gave free play to a +very real envy and regret. "In all my life I never did! Jinn to be Mrs. +John! ... and, as like as not, the Honourable Mrs. John before she's +done. Oh, Polly, my dear, why EVER didn't I wait!" +</P> + +<P> +On being presented to John, however, she became more reconciled to her +lot. "'E's got a temper, your brother has, or I'm very much mistaken. +It won't be all beer and skittles for 'er ladyship. For Jinn hasn't a +scrap of spunk in 'er, Polly. She got so mopey the last year or two, +there was no doing anything with 'er. Now it was just the other way +round with me. No matter how black things looked, I always kept my +pecker up. Poor ma used to say I grew more like her, every day." +</P> + +<P> +And at a still later date: "No, Polly, my dear, I wouldn't change +places with the future Mrs. T. after all, thank you—not for Joseph! I +SAY! she'll need to mind her p's and q's." For Tilly had listened to +John explaining to Jinny what he expected of her, what she might and +might not do; and had watched Jinny sitting meekly by and saying yes to +everything. +</P> + +<P> +There was nothing in the way of the marriage; indeed, did it not take +place immediately, Jinny would have to look about her for a situation +of some kind; and, said John, that was nothing for HIS wife. His house +stood empty; he was very much in love; and pressed for the naming of +the day. So it was decided that Polly should accompany Jinny to +lodgings in Melbourne, help her choose her trousseau and engage +servants. Afterwards there would be a quiet wedding—by reason of +Jinny's mourning—at which Richard, if he could possibly contrive to +leave his patients, would give the bride away. Polly was to remain in +John's house while the happy couple were on honeymoon, to look after +the servants. This arrangement would also make the break less hard for +the child. Trotty was still blissfully unconscious of what had befallen +her. She had learnt to say "new mamma" parrot-wise, without +understanding what the words meant. And meanwhile, the fact that she +was to go with her aunt for a long, exciting coach-ride filled her +childish cup with happiness. As Polly packed the little clothes, she +thought of the night, six years before, when the fat, sleeping babe had +been laid in her arms. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course it's only natural John should want his family round him +again. But I SHALL miss the dear little soul," she said to her husband +who stood watching her. +</P> + +<P> +"What you need is a little one of your own, wife." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, don't I wish I had!" said Polly, and drew a sigh. "That would make +up for everything. Still if it can't be, it can't." +</P> + +<P> +A few days before the set time John received an urgent summons to +Melbourne, and went on ahead, leaving Mahony suspecting him of a dodge +to avoid travelling EN FAMILLE. In order that his bride-elect should +not be put to inconvenience, John hired four seats for the three of +them; but: "He might just as well have saved his money," thought Polly, +when she saw the coach. Despite their protests they were packed like +herrings in a barrel—had hardly enough room to use their hands. +Altogether it was a trying journey. Jinny, worked on by excitement and +fatigue, took a fit of hysterics; Trotty, frightened by the many rough +strangers, cried and had to be nursed; and the whole burden of the +undertaking lay on Polly's shoulders. She had felt rather timid about +it, before starting; but was obliged to confess she got on better than +she expected. A kind old man sitting opposite, for instance—a splitter +he said he was—actually undid Jinny's bonnet-strings, and fetched +water for her at the first stoppage. +</P> + +<P> +Polly had not been in Melbourne since the year after her marriage, and +was looking forward intensely to the visit. She went laden with +commissions; her lady-friends gave her a list as long as her arm. +Richard, too, had entrusted her to get him second-hand editions of +various medical works, as well as a new stethoscope. Thirdly, she had +promised old Mr. Ocock to go to William's Town to meet Miss Amelia, who +even now was tossing somewhere on the Indian Ocean, and to escort the +poor young lady up to Ballarat. +</P> + +<P> +Having seen them start, Mahony went home to drink his coffee and read +his paper in a quiet that was new to him. John's departure had already +eased the strain. Then Tilly had been boarded out at the Methodist +minister's. Now, with the exit of Polly and her charges, a great peace +descended on the little house. The rooms lay white and still in the +sun, and though all doors stood open, there was not a sound to be heard +but the buzzing of the blowflies round the sweets of the flytraps. He +was free to look as glum as he chose of a morning if he had neuralgia; +or to be silent when worried over a troublesome case. No longer would +Miss Tilly's bulky presence and loud-voiced reiterations of her +prospects grate his nerves; or John's full-blooded absorption in +himself, and poor foolish Jinny's quavering doubts whether she would +ever be able to live up to so magnificent a husband, offend his sense +of decorum. +</P> + +<P> +Another reason he was glad to see the last of them was that, in the +long run, he had rebelled at the barefaced way they made use of Polly, +and took advantage of her good nature. She had not only cooked for them +and waited on them; he had even caught her stitching garments for the +helpless Jinny. This was too much: such extreme obligingness on his +wife's part seemed to detract from her personal dignity. He could never +though have got Polly to see it. Undignified to do a kindness? What a +funny, selfish idea! The fact was, there was a certain streak in +Polly's nature that made her more akin to all these good people than to +him—him with his unsociable leanings towards a hermit's cell; his +genuine need of an occasional hour's privacy and silence, in which to +think a few thoughts through to the end. +</P> + +<P> +On coming in from his rounds he turned out an old linen jacket that +belonged to his bachelor days, and raked up some books he had not +opened for an almost equally long time. He also steered clear of +friends and acquaintances, went nowhere, saw no one but his patients. +And Ellen, to whose cookery Polly had left him with many misgivings, +took things easy. "He's so busy reading, he never knows what he puts in +his mouth. I believe he'd eat his boot-soles, if I fried 'em up neat +wid a bit of parsley," she reported over the back fence on Doctor's odd +ways. +</P> + +<P> +During the winter months the practice had as usual fallen off. By now +it was generally beginning to look up again; but this year, for some +reason, the slackness persisted. He saw how lean his purse was, +whenever he had to take a banknote from it to enclose to Polly; there +was literally nothing doing, no money coming in. Then, he would +restlessly lay his book aside, and drawing a slip of paper to him set +to reckoning and dividing. Not for the first time he found himself in +the doctor's awkward quandary: how to be decently and humanly glad of a +rise in the health-rate. +</P> + +<P> +He had often regretted having held to the half-hundred shares he had +bought at Henry Ocock's suggestion; had often spent in fancy the sum +they would have brought in, had he sold when they touched their highest +figure. Such a chance would hardly come his way again. After the one +fictitious flare-up, "Porepunkahs" had fallen heavily—the first main +prospect-drive, at a depth of three hundred and fifty feet, had failed +to strike the gutter—and nowadays they were not even quoted. Thus had +ended his single attempt to take a hand in the great game. +</P> + +<P> +One morning he sat at breakfast, and thought over his weekly epistle to +Polly. In general, this chronicled items of merely personal interest. +The house had not yet been burnt down—her constant fear, when absent; +another doctor had got the Asylum; he himself stood a chance of being +elected to the Committee of the District Hospital. To-day, however, +there was more to tell. The English mail had come in, and the table was +strewn with foreign envelopes and journals. Besides the usual letters +from relatives, one in a queer, illiterate hand had reached him, the +address scrawled in purple ink on the cheapest note-paper. Opening it +with some curiosity, Mahony found that it was from his former +assistant, Long Jim. +</P> + +<P> +The old man wrote in a dismal strain. Everything had gone against him. +His wife had died, he was out of work and penniless, and racked with +rheumatism—oh, it was "a crewl climat"! Did he stop in England, only +"the house" remained to him; he'd end in a pauper's grave. But he +believed if he could get back to a scrap of warmth and the sun, he'd be +good for some years yet. Now he'd always known Dr. Mahony for the +kindest, most liberal of gentlemen; the happiest days of his life had +been spent under him, on the Flat; and if he'd only give him a lift +now, there was nothing he wouldn't do to show his gratitude. Doctor +knew a bit about him, too. Here, he couldn't seem to get on with folk +at all. They looked crooked at him, and just because he'd once been +spunky enough to try his luck overseas. Mahony pshawed and smiled; then +wondered what Polly would say to this letter. She it was who had been +responsible for packing the old man off. +</P> + +<P> +Unfolding the STAR, he ran his eye over its columns. He had garnered +the chief local news and was skimming the mining intelligence, when he +suddenly stopped short with an exclamation of surprise; and his grip on +the paper tightened. There it stood, black on white. "Porepunkahs" had +jumped to three pounds per share! What the dickens did that mean? He +turned back to the front sheet, to find if any clue to the claim's +renewed activity had escaped him; but sought in vain. So bolting the +rest of his breakfast, he hurried down to the town, to see if, on the +spot, he could pick up information with regard to the mysterious rise. +</P> + +<P> +The next few days kept him in a twitter of excitement. "Porepunkahs" +went on advancing—not by leaps and bounds as before, but slowly and +steadily—and threw off a dividend. He got into bed at night with a hot +head, from wondering whether he ought to hold on or sell out; and +inside a week he was off to consult the one person who was in a +position to advise him. Henry Ocock's greeting resembled an +embrace—"It evidently means a fortune for him"—and all trifling +personal differences were forgotten in the wider common bond. The +lawyer virtually ordered Mahony to "sit in", till he gave the word. By +this time "Porepunkahs" had passed their previous limit, and even paid +a bonus: it was now an open secret that a drive undertaken in an +opposite direction to the first had proved successful; the lead was +scored and seamed with gold. Ocock spoke of the stone, specimens of +which he had held in his hand—declared he had never seen its equal. +</P> + +<P> +But when the shares stood at fifty-three pounds each, Mahony could +restrain himself no longer; and, in spite of Ocock's belief that +another ten days would see a COUP, he parted with forty-five of the +half hundred he held. Leaving the odd money with the lawyer for +re-investment, he walked out of the office the possessor of two +thousand pounds. +</P> + +<P> +It was only a very ordinary late spring day; the season brought its +like by the score: a pale azure sky, against which the distant hills +looked purple; above these a narrow belt of cloud, touched, in its +curves, to the same hue. But to Mahony it seemed as if such a perfect +day had never dawned since he first set foot in Australia. His back was +eased of its burden; and, like Christian on having passed the wall +known as Salvation, he could have wept tears of joy. After all these +years of pinching and sparing he was out of poverty's grip. The +suddenness of the thing was what staggered him. He might have drudged +till his hair was grey; it was unlikely he would ever, at one stroke, +have come into possession of a sum like this.—And that whole day he +went about feeling a little more than human, and seeing people, places, +things, through a kind of beatific mist. Now, thank God, he could stand +on his own legs again; could relieve John of his bond, pay off the +mortgage on the house, insure his life before it was too late. And, +everything done, he would still have over a thousand pounds to his +credit. A thousand pounds! No longer need he thankfully accept any and +every call; or reckon sourly that, if the leakage on the roof was to be +mended, he must go without a new surtout. Best of all, he could now +begin in earnest to save. +</P> + +<P> +First, though, he allowed himself two very special pleasures. He sent +Polly a message on the electric telegraph to say that he would come +down himself to fetch her home. In secret he planned a little trip to +Schnapper Point. At the time of John's wedding he had been unable to +get free; this would be the first holiday he and Polly had ever had +together. +</P> + +<P> +The second thing he did was: to indulge the love of giving that was +innate in him; and of giving in a somewhat lordly way. He enjoyed the +broad grin that illumined Ellen's face at his unlooked-for generosity; +Jerry's red stammered thanks for the gift of the cob the boy had long +coveted. It did him good to put two ten-pound notes in an envelope and +inscribe Ned's name on it; he had never yet been able to do anything +for these poor lads. He also, without waiting to consult +Polly—fearing, indeed, that she might advise against it—sent off the +money to Long Jim for the outward voyage, and a few pounds over. For +there were superstitious depths in him; and, at this turn in his +fortunes, it would surely be of ill omen to refuse the first appeal for +help that reached him. +</P> + +<P> +Polly was so much a part of himself that he thought of her last of all. +But then it was with moist eyes. She, who had never complained, should +of a surety not come short! And he dropped asleep that night to the +happy refrain: "Now she shall have her piano, God bless her! ... the +best that money can buy." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0401"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Part IV +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter I +</H3> + +<P> +The new house stood in Webster Street. It was twice as large as the old +one, had a garden back and front, a verandah round three sides. When +Mahony bought it, and the piece of ground it stood on, it was an +unpretentious weather-board in a rather dilapidated condition. The +situation was good though—without being too far from his former +address—and there was stabling for a pair of horses. And by the time +he had finished with it, it was one of those characteristically +Australian houses which, added to wherever feasible, without a thought +for symmetry or design—a room built on here, a covered passage there, +a bathroom thrown out in an unexpected corner, with odd steps up and +down—have yet a spacious, straggling comfort all their own. +</P> + +<P> +How glad he was to leave the tiny, sunbaked box that till now had been +his home. It had had neither blind nor shutter; and, on his entering it +of a summer midday, it had sometimes struck hotter than outside. The +windows of his new room were fitted with green venetians; round the +verandah-posts twined respectively a banksia and a Japanese +honey-suckle, which further damped the glare; while on the patch of +buffalo-grass in front stood a spreading fig-tree, that leafed well and +threw a fine shade. He had also added a sofa to his equipment. Now, +when he came in tired or with a headache, he could stretch himself at +full length. He was lying on it at this moment. +</P> + +<P> +Polly, too, had reason to feel satisfied with the change. A handsome +little Broadwood, with a ruby-silk and carved-wood front, stood against +the wall of her drawing-room; gilt cornices surmounted the windows; and +from the centre of the ceiling hung a lustre-chandelier that was the +envy of every one who saw it: Mrs. Henry Ocock's was not a patch on it, +and yet had cost more. This time Mahony had virtually been able to give +his wife a free hand in her furnishing. And in her new spare room she +could put up no less than three guests! +</P> + +<P> +Of course, these luxuries had not all rained on them at once. Several +months passed before Polly, on the threshold of her parlour, could +exclaim, with an artlessness that touched her husband deeply: "Never in +my life did I think I should have such a beautiful room!" Still, as +regarded money, the whole year had been a steady ascent. The nest-egg +he had left with the lawyer had served its purpose of chaining that old +hen, Fortune, to the spot. Ocock had invested and re-invested on his +behalf—now it was twenty "Koh-i-noors," now thirty "Consolidated +Beehives"—and Mahony was continually being agreeably surprised by the +margins it threw off in its metamorphoses. That came of his having +placed the matter in such competent hands. The lawyer had, for +instance, got him finally out of "Porepunkahs" in the nick of time—the +reef had not proved as open to the day as was expected—and pulled him +off, in the process, another three hundred odd. Compared with Ocock's +own takings, of course, his was a modest spoil; the lawyer had made a +fortune, and was now one of the wealthiest men in Ballarat. He had +built not only new and handsome offices on the crest of the hill, but +also, prior to his marriage, a fine dwelling-house standing in +extensive grounds on the farther side of Yuille's Swamp. Altogether it +had been a year of great and sweeping changes. People had gone up, gone +down—had changed places like children at a game of General Post. More +than one of Mahony's acquaintances had burnt his fingers. On the other +hand, old Devine, Polly's one-time market-gardener, had made his +thousands. There was actually talk of his standing for Parliament, in +which case his wife bid fair to be received at Government House. And +the pair of them with hardly an "h" between them! +</P> + +<P> +From the sofa where he lay, Mahony could hear the murmur of his wife's +even voice. Polly sat the further end of the verandah talking to Jinny, +who dandled her babe in a rocking-chair that made a light tip-tap as it +went to and fro. Jinny said nothing: she was no doubt sunk in adoration +of her—or rather John's—infant; and Mahony all but dozed off, under +the full, round tones he knew so well. +</P> + +<P> +In his case the saying had once more been verified: to him that hath +shall be given. Whether it was due to the better position of the new +house; or to the fact that easier circumstances gave people more +leisure to think of their ailments; or merely that money attracted +money: whatever the cause, his practice had of late made giant strides. +He was in demand for consultations; sat on several committees; while a +couple of lodges had come his way as good as unsought. +</P> + +<P> +Against this he had one piece of ill-luck to set. At the close of the +summer, when the hot winds were in blast, he had gone down under the +worst attack of dysentery he had had since the early days. He really +thought this time all was over with him. For six weeks, in spite of the +tenderest nursing, he had lain prostrate, and as soon as he could bear +the journey had to prescribe himself a change to the seaside. The +bracing air of Queenscliff soon picked him up; he had, thank God, a +marvellous faculty of recuperation: while others were still not done +pitying him, he was himself again, and well enough to take the daily +plunge in the Sea that was one of his dearest pleasures.—To feel the +warm, stinging fluid lap him round, after all these drewthy years of +dust and heat! He could not have enough of it, and stayed so long in +the water that his wife, sitting at a decent distance from the Bathing +Enclosure, grew anxious, and agitated her little white parasol. +</P> + +<P> +"There's nothing to equal it, Mary, this side Heaven!" he declared as +he rejoined her, his towel about his neck. "I wish I could persuade you +to try a dip, my dear." +</P> + +<P> +But Mary preferred to sit quietly on the beach. "The dressing and +undressing is such a trouble," said she. As it was, one of her +elastic-sides was full of sand. +</P> + +<P> +Yes, Polly was Mary now, and had been, since the day Ned turned up +again on Ballarat, accompanied by a wife and child. Mary was in +Melbourne at the time, at John's nuptials; Mahony had opened the door +himself to Ned's knock; and there, in a spring-cart, sat the frowsy, +red-haired woman who was come to steal his wife's name from her. This +invasion was the direct result of his impulsive generosity. Had he only +kept his money in his pocket! +</P> + +<P> +He had been forced to take the trio in and give them house-room. But he +bore the storming of his hard-won privacy with a bad grace, and Mary +had much to gloss over on her return. +</P> + +<P> +She had been greatly distressed by her favourite brother's +ill-considered marriage. For, if they had not held Jinny to be John's +equal, what WAS to be said of Ned's choice? Mrs. Ned had lived among +the mining population of Castlemaine, where her father kept a +public-house; and, said Richard, her manners were accordingly: loud, +slap-dash, familiar—before she had been twenty-four hours under his +roof she was bluntly addressing him as "Mahony." There was also a +peculiar streak of touchiness in her nature ("Goes with hair of that +colour, my dear!") which rendered her extremely hard to deal with. She +had, it seemed, opposed the idea of moving to Ballarat—that was all in +her favour, said Mary—and came primed to detect a snub or a slight at +every turn. This morbid suspiciousness it was that led Mary to yield +her rights in the matter of the name: the confusion between them was +never-ending; and, at the first hint that the change would come +gracefully from her, Mrs. Ned had flown into a passion. +</P> + +<P> +"It's all the same to me, Richard, what I'm called," Mary soothed him. +"And don't you think Polly was beginning to sound RATHER childish, now +I'm nearly twenty-four?" +</P> + +<P> +But: "Oh, what COULD Ned have seen in her?" she sighed to herself +dismayed. For Mrs. Ned was at least ten years older than her husband; +and whatever affection might originally have existed between them was +now a thing of the past She tyrannised mercilessly over him, nagging at +him till Ned, who was nothing if not good-natured, turned sullen and +left off tossing his child in the air. +</P> + +<P> +"We must just make the best of it, Richard," said Mary. "After all, +she's really fond of the baby. And when the second comes... you'll +attend her yourself, won't you, dear? I think somehow her temper may +improve when that's over." +</P> + +<P> +For this was another thing: Mrs. Ned had arrived there in a condition +that raised distressing doubts in Mary as to the dates of Ned's +marriage and the birth of his first child. She did not breathe them to +Richard; for it seemed to her only to make matters of this kind worse, +openly to speak of them. She devoted herself to getting the little +family under a roof of its own. Through Richard's influence Ned +obtained a clerkship in a carrying-agency, which would just keep his +head above water; and she found a tiny, three-roomed house that was +near enough to let her be daily with her sister-in-law when the +latter's time came. Meanwhile, she cut out and helped to sew a complete +little outfit ("What she had before was no better than rags!"); and +Mrs. Ned soon learned to know on whom she could lean and to whom she +might turn, not only for practical aid, but also for a never failing +sympathy in what she called her "troubles." +</P> + +<P> +"I vow your Mary's the kindest-hearted little soul it's ever been me +luck to run across," she averred one day to Mahony, who was visiting +her professionally. "So common-sense, too—no nonsense about HER! I +shouldn't have thought a gaby like Ned could have sported such trump of +a sister." +</P> + +<P> +"Another pensioner for your CARITAS, dear," said Mahony, in passing on +the verdict. What he did not grieve his wife by repeating were certain +bad reports of Ned lately brought him by Jerry. According to Jerry—and +the boy's word was to be relied on—Ned had kept loose company in +Castlemaine, and had acquired the habit of taking more than was good +for him. Did he not speedily amend his ways, there would be small +chance of him remaining in his present post. +</P> + +<P> +Here, Mahony was effectually roused by a stir on the verandah. Jinny +had entered the house to lay down her sleeping babe, and a third voice, +Purdy's, became audible. The wife had evidently brought out a bottle of +her famous home-brewed gingerbeer: he heard the cork pop, the drip of +the overflow on the boards, the clink of the empty glass; and Purdy's +warm words of appreciation. +</P> + +<P> +Then there was silence. Rising from the sofa, Mahony inserted himself +between blind and window, and peeped out. +</P> + +<P> +His first thought was: what a picture! Mary wore a pale pink cotton +gown which, over the light swellings of her crinoline, bulged and +billowed round her, and generously swept the ground. Collar and cuffs +of spotless lawn outlined neck and wrists. She bent low over her +stitching, and the straight white parting of her hair intensified the +ebony of the glossy bands. Her broad pure forehead had neither line nor +stain. On the trellis behind her a vine hung laden with massy bunches +of muscatelles. +</P> + +<P> +Purdy sat on the edge of the verandah, with his back to Mahony. Between +thumb and forefinger he idly swung a pair of scissors. +</P> + +<P> +Urged by some occult sympathy, Mary at once glanced up and discovered +her husband. Her face was lightly flushed from stooping—and the least +touch of colour was enough to give its delicate ivory an appearance of +vivid health. She had grown fuller of late—quite fat, said Richard, +when he wished to tease her: a luxuriant young womanliness lay over and +about her. Now, above the pale wild-rose of her cheeks her black eyes +danced with a mischievous glee; for she believed her husband intended +swinging his leg noiselessly over the sill and creeping up to startle +Purdy—and this appealed to her sense of humour. But, as he remained +standing at the window, she just smiled slyly, satisfied to be in +communion with him over their unsuspecting friend's head. +</P> + +<P> +Here, however, Purdy brought his eyes back from the garden, and she +abruptly dropped hers to her needlework. +</P> + +<P> +The scissors were shut with a snap, and thrown, rather than laid, to +the other implements in the workbox. "One 'ud think you were paid to +finish that wretched sewing in a fixed time, Polly," said Purdy +cantankerously. "Haven't you got a word to say?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's for the Dorcas Society. They're having a sale of work." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, damn Dorcases! You're always slaving for somebody. You'll ruin +your eyes. I wonder Dick allows it. I shouldn't—I know that." +</P> + +<P> +The peal of laughter that greeted these words came equally from husband +and wife. Then: "What the dickens does it matter to you, sir, how much +sewing my wife chooses to do?" cried Mahony, and, still laughing, +stepped out of the window. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello!—you there?" said Purdy and rose to his feet. "What a beastly +fright to give one!" He looked red and sulky. +</P> + +<P> +"I scored that time, my boy!" and linking his arm in Mary's, Mahony +confronted his friend. "Afraid I'm neglecting my duties, are you? +Letting this young woman spoil her eyes?—Turn 'em on him, my love, in +all their splendour, that he may judge for himself." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense, Richard," said Mary softly, but with an affectionate squeeze +of his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, ta-ta, I'm off!" said Purdy. And as Mahony still continued to +quiz him, he added in a downright surly tone: "Just the same old Dick +as ever! Blinder than any bat to all that doesn't concern yourself! +I'll eat my hat if it's ever entered your noddle that Polly's quite the +prettiest woman on Ballarat." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't listen to him, Richard, please!" and: "Don't let your head be +turned by such fulsome flattery, my dear!" were wife and husband's +simultaneous exclamations. +</P> + +<P> +"I shouldn't think so," said Mary sturdily, and would have added more, +but just at this minute Jinny came out of the house, with the peculiar +noiseless tread she had acquired in moving round an infant's crib; and +Purdy vanished. +</P> + +<P> +Jinny gazed at her sister-in-law with such meaning—that Mary could not +but respond. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you get her safely laid down, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Perfectly, Mary! Without even the quiver of an eyelash. You recollect, +I told you yesterday when her little head touched the pillow, she +opened her eyes and looked at me. To-day there was nothing of that +sort. It was quite perfect"; and Jinny's voice thrilled at the +remembrance: it was as if, in continuing to sleep during the transit, +her—or rather John's—tiny daughter had proved herself a marvellous +sagacity. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony gave an impatient shrug in Jinny's direction. But he, too, had +to stand fire: she had been waiting all day for a word with him. The +babe, who was teething, was plagued by various disorders; and Jinny +knew each fresh pin's-head of a spot that joined the rash. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony made light of her fears; then turning to his wife asked her to +hurry on the six-o'clock dinner: he had to see a patient between that +meal and tea. Mary went to make arrangements—Richard always forgot to +mention such things till the last moment—and also to please Jinny by +paying a visit to the baby. +</P> + +<P> +"The angels can't look very different when they sleep, I think," +murmured its mother, hanging over the couch. +</P> + +<P> +When Mary returned, she found her husband picking caterpillars off the +vine: Long Jim, odd man now about house and garden, was not industrious +enough to keep the pests under. In this brief spell of leisure—such +moments grew ever rarer in Richard's life—husband and wife locked +their arms and paced slowly up and down the verandah. It was late +afternoon on a breathless, pale-skied February day; and the boards of +the flooring gritted with sandy dust beneath their feet. +</P> + +<P> +"He WAS grumpy this afternoon, wasn't he?" said Mary, without preamble. +"But I've noticed once or twice lately that he can't take a joke any +more. He's grown queer altogether. Do you know he's the only person who +still persists in calling me by my old name? He was quite rude about it +when I asked him why. Perhaps he's liverish, from the heat. It might be +a good thing, dear, if you went round and overhauled him. Somehow, it +seems unnatural for Purdy to be bad-tempered." +</P> + +<P> +"It's true he may be a bit out of sorts. But I fear the evil's +deeper-seated. It's my opinion the boy is tiring of regular work. Now +that he hasn't even the excitement of the gold-escort to look forward +to.... And he's been a rolling stone from the beginning, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"If only he would marry and settle down! I do wish I could find a wife +for him. The right woman could make anything of Purdy"; and yet once +more Mary fruitlessly scanned, in thought, the lists of her +acquaintance. +</P> + +<P> +"What if it's a case of sour grapes, love? Since the prettiest woman on +Ballarat is no longer free...." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard, hush! Such foolish talk!" +</P> + +<P> +"But is it? ... let me look at her. Well, if not the prettiest, at +least a very pretty person indeed. It certainly becomes you to be +stouter, wife." +</P> + +<P> +But Mary had not an atom of vanity in her. "Speaking of prettiness +reminds me of something that happened at the Races last week—I forgot +to tell you, at the time. There were two gentlemen there from +Melbourne; and as Agnes Ocock went past, one of them said out loud: +'Gad! That's a lovely woman.' Agnes heard it herself, and was most +distressed. And the whole day, wherever she went, they kept their +field-glasses on her. Mr. Henry was furious." +</P> + +<P> +"If you'll allow me to say so, my dear, Mrs. Henry cannot hold a candle +to some one I know—to my mind, at least." +</P> + +<P> +"If I suit you, Richard, that's all I care about." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, to come back to what we were saying. My advice is, give Master +Purdy a taste of the cold shoulder the next time he comes hanging about +the house. Let him see his ill-temper didn't pass unnoticed. There's no +excuse for it. God bless me! doesn't he sleep the whole night through +in his bed?"—and Mahony's tone took on an edge. The broken nights that +were nowadays the rule with himself were the main drawbacks to his +prosperity. He had never been a really good sleeper; and, in +consequence, was one of those people who feel an intense need for +sleep, and suffer under its curtailment. As things stood at present his +rest was wholly at the mercy of the night-bell—a remorseless +instrument, given chiefly to pealing just as he had managed to drop +off. Its gentlest tinkle was enough to rouse him—long before it had +succeeded in penetrating the ears of the groom, who was supposed to +open. And when it remained silent for a night, some trifling noise in +the road would simulate its jangle in his dreams. "It's a wonder I have +any nerves left," he grumbled, as the hot, red dawns crept in at the +sides of the bedroom-window. For the shortening of his sleep at one end +did not mean that he could make it up at the other. All that summer he +had fallen into the habit of waking at five o'clock, and not being able +to doze off again. The narrowest bar of light on the ceiling, the +earliest twitter of the sparrows was enough to strike him into full +consciousness; and Mary was hard put to it to darken the room and +ensure silence; and would be till the day came when he could knock off +work and take a thorough holiday. This he promised himself to do, +before he was very much older. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0402"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter II +</H3> + +<P> +Mary sat with pencil and paper and wrinkled her brows. She was +composing a list, and every now and then, after an inward calculation, +she lowered the pencil to note such items as: three tipsy-cakes, four +trifles, eight jam-sandwiches. John Turnham had run up from Melbourne +to fetch home wife and child; and his relatives were giving a musical +card-party in his honour. By the window Jinny sat on a low ottoman +suckling her babe, and paying but scant heed to her sister-in-law's +deliberations: to her it seemed a much more important matter that the +milk should flow smoothly down the precious little throat, than that +Mary's supper should be a complete success. With her free hand she +imprisoned the two little feet, working one against the other in slow +enjoyment; or followed the warm little limbs up inside the swaddling, +after the fashion of nursing mothers. +</P> + +<P> +The two women were in the spare bedroom, which was dusk and cool and +dimity-white; and they exchanged remarks in a whisper; for the lids had +come down more than once on the big black eyes, and now only lifted +automatically from time to time, to send a last look of utter satiation +at the mother-face. Mary always said: "She'll drop off sooner indoors, +dear." But this was not the whole truth. Richard had hinted that he +considered the seclusion of the house better suited to the business of +nursing than the comparative publicity of the verandah; for Jinny was +too absorbed in her task to take thought for the proprieties. Here now +she sat—she had grown very big and full since her marriage in the +generous, wide-lapped pose of some old Madonna. +</P> + +<P> +Mary, thrown entirely on her own judgment, was just saying with +decision: "Well, better to err on the right side and have too much than +too little," and altering a four into a five, when steps came down the +passage and John entered the room. Jinny made him a sign, and John, now +Commissioner of Trade and Customs, advanced as lightly as could be +expected of a heavy, well-grown man. +</P> + +<P> +"Does she sleep?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +His eyes had flown to the child; only in the second place did they rest +on his wife. At the sight of her free and easy bearing his face +changed, and he said stiffly: "I think, Jane, a little less exposure of +your person, my dear...." +</P> + +<P> +Flushing to her hair-roots, Jinny began as hastily as she dared to +re-arrange her dress. +</P> + +<P> +Mary broke a lance on her behalf. "We were quite alone, John," she +reminded her brother. "Not expecting a visit from you." And added: +"Richard says it is high time Baby was weaned. Jinny is feeling the +strain." +</P> + +<P> +"As long as this rash continues I shall not permit it," answered John, +riding rough-shod over even Richard's opinion. ("I shouldn't agree to +it either, John dear," murmured Jinny.) "And now, Mary, a word with you +about the elder children. I understand that you are prepared to take +Emma back—is that so?" +</P> + +<P> +Yes, Mary was pleased to say Richard had consented to Trotty's return; +but he would not hear of her undertaking Johnny. At eleven years of age +the proper place for a boy, he said, was a Grammar School. With Trotty, +of course, it was different. "I always found her easy to manage, and +should be more than glad to have her"; and Mary meant what she said. +Her heart ached for John's motherless children. Jinny's interest in +them had lasted only so long as she had none of her own; and Mary, who +being childless had kept a large heart for all little ones, marvelled +at the firm determination to get rid of her stepchildren which her +sister-in-law, otherwise so pliable, displayed. +</P> + +<P> +Brother and sister talked things over, intuitively meeting half-way, +understanding each other with a word, as only blood relations can. +Jinny, the chief person concerned, sat meekly by, or chimed in merely +to echo her husband's views. +</P> + +<P> +"By the way, I ran into Richard on Specimen Hill," said John as he +turned to leave the room. "And he asked me to let you know that he +would not be home to lunch." +</P> + +<P> +"There... if that isn't always the way!" exclaimed Mary. "As sure as I +cook something he specially likes, he doesn't come in. Tilly sent me +over the loveliest little sucking-pig this morning. Richard would have +enjoyed it." +</P> + +<P> +"You should be proud, my dear Mary, that his services are in such +demand." +</P> + +<P> +"I am, John—no one could be prouder. But all the same I wish he could +manage to be a little more regular with his meals. It makes cooking so +difficult. To-morrow, because I shan't have a minute to spare, he'll be +home punctually, demanding something nice. But I warn you, to-morrow +you'll all have to picnic!" +</P> + +<P> +However, when the day came, she was better than her word, and looked to +it that neither guests nor husband went short. Since a couple of tables +on trestles took up the dining-room, John and Mahony lunched together +in the surgery; while Jinny's meal was spread on a tray and sent to her +in the bedroom. Mary herself had time only to snatch a bite standing. +From early morning on, tied up in a voluminous apron, she was cooking +in the kitchen, very hot and floury and preoccupied, drawing grating +shelves out of the oven, greasing tins and patty-pans, dredging flour. +The click-clack of egg-beating resounded continuously; and mountains of +sponge-cakes of all shapes and sizes rose under her hands. This would +be the largest, most ambitious party she had ever given—the guests +expected numbered between twenty and thirty, and had, besides, carte +blanche to bring with them anyone who happened to be staying with +them—and it would be a disgrace under which Mary, reared in Mrs. +Beamish's school, could never again have held up her head, had a single +article on her supper-table run short. +</P> + +<P> +In all this she had only such help as her one maidservant could give +her—John had expressly forbidden Jinny the kitchen. True, during the +morning Miss Amelia Ocock, a gentle little elderly body with a harmless +smile and a prominent jaw, who was now an inmate of her father's house, +together with Zara, returned from England and a visitor at the +Ocock's—these two walked over to offer their aid in setting the +tables. But Miss Amelia, fluttery and undecided as a bird, was far too +timid to do herself justice; and Zara spent so long arranging the +flowers in the central epergnes that before she had finished with one +of them it was lunch time. +</P> + +<P> +"I could have done it myself while she was cutting the stalks," Mary +told her husband. "But Zara hasn't really been any good at flowers +since her 'mixed bouquet' took first prize at the Flower Show. Of +course, though, it looks lovely now it's done." +</P> + +<P> +Purdy dropped in during the afternoon and was more useful; he sliced +the crusts off loaf-high mounds of sandwiches, and tested the strength +and flavour of the claret-cup. Mary could not make up her mind, when it +came to the point, to follow Richard's advice and treat him coldly. She +did, however, tell him that his help would be worth a great deal more +to her if he talked less and did not always look for an answer to what +he said. But Purdy was not to be quashed. He had taken it into his head +that she was badly treated, in being left "to slave" alone, within the +oven's radius; and he was very hard on Jinny, whom he had espied +comfortably dandling her child on the front verandah. "I'd like to +wring the bloomin' kid's neck!" +</P> + +<P> +"Purdy, for shame!" cried Mary outraged. "It's easy to see you're still +a bachelor. Just wait, sir, till you have children of your own!" +</P> + +<P> +Under her guidance he bore stacks of plates across the yard to the +dining-room—where the blinds were lowered to keep the room cool—and +strewed these, and corresponding knives and forks, up and down the +tables. He also carried over the heavy soup-tureen in which was the +claret-cup. But he had a man's slippery fingers, and, between these and +his limp, Mary trembled for the fate of her crockery. He made her +laugh, too, and distracted her attention; and she was glad when it was +time for him to return to barracks. +</P> + +<P> +"Now come early to-night," she admonished him. "And mind you bring your +music. Miss Amelia's been practising up that duet all the week. She'll +be most disappointed if you don't ask her to sing with you." +</P> + +<P> +On the threshold of the kitchen Purdy set his fingers to his nose in +the probable direction of Miss Amelia; then performed some skittish +female twists and turns about the yard. "So hoarse, love ... a bad cold +... not in voice!" Mary laughed afresh, and ordered him off. +</P> + +<P> +But when he had gone she looked grave, and out of an oddly disquieting +feeling said to herself: "I do hope he'll be on his best behaviour +to-night, and not tread on Richard's toes." +</P> + +<P> +As it was, she had to inform her husband of something that she knew +would displease him. John had come back in the course of the afternoon +and announced, without ceremony, that he had extended an invitation to +the Devines for the evening. +</P> + +<P> +"It's quite true what's being said, dear," Mary strove to soothe +Richard, as she helped him make a hasty toilet in the bathroom. "Mr. +Devine is going to stand for Parliament; and he has promised his +support, if he gets in, to some measure John has at heart. John wants +to have a long talk with him to-night." +</P> + +<P> +But Richard was exceedingly put out. "Well, I hope, my dear, that as +it's your brother who has taken such a liberty, YOU'LL explain the +situation to your guests. I certainly shall not. But I do know there +was no need to exclude Ned and Polly from such an omnium-gatherum as +this party of yours will be." +</P> + +<P> +Even while he spoke there came a rat-a-tat at the front door, and Mary +had to hurry off. And now knock succeeded knock with the briefest of +intervals, the noise carrying far in the quiet street. Mysteriously +bunched-up figures, their heads veiled in the fleeciest of clouds, were +piloted along the passage; and: "I HOPE we are not the first!" was +murmured by each new-comer in turn. The gentlemen went to change their +boots on the back verandah; the ladies to lay off their wraps in Mary's +bedroom. And soon this room was filled to overflowing with the large +soft abundance of crinoline; hoops swaying from this side to that, as +the guests gave place to one another before the looking-glass, where +bands of hair were smoothed and the catches of bracelets snapped. +Music-cases lay strewn over the counterpane; the husbands who lined up +in the passage, to wait for their wives, also bearing rolls of music. +Mary, in black silk with a large cameo brooch at her throat, and only a +delicate pink on her cheeks to tell of all her labours, moved helpfully +to and fro, offering a shoe-horn, a hand-mirror, pins and hairpins. She +was caught, as she passed Mrs. Henry Ocock, a modishly late arrival, by +that lady's plump white hand, and a whispered request to be allowed to +retain her mantle. "Henry was really against my coming, dearest. So +anxious ... so absurdly anxious!" +</P> + +<P> +"And pray where's the Honourable Mrs. T. to-night?" inquired "old Mrs. +Ocock," rustling up to them: Tilly was the biggest and most handsomely +dressed woman in the room. "On her knees worshipping, I bet you, up to +the last minute! Or else not allowed to show her nose till the +Honourable John's got his studs in.—Now then, girls, how much longer +are you going to stand preening and prinking?" +</P> + +<P> +The "girls" were Zara, at this present a trifle PASSEE, and Miss +Amelia, who was still further from her prime; and gathering the two +into her train, as a hen does its chickens, Tilly swept them off to +face the ordeal of the gentlemen and the drawing-room. +</P> + +<P> +Mary and Agnes brought up the rear. Mr. Henry was on the watch, and +directly his wife appeared wheeled forward the best armchair and placed +her in it, with a footstool under her feet. Mary planted Jinny next her +and left them to their talk of nurseries: for Richard's sake she wished +to screen Agnes from the vulgarities of Mrs. Devine. Herself she saw +with dismay, on entering, that Richard had already been pounced on by +the husband: there he stood, listening to his ex-greengrocer's +words—they were interlarded with many an awkward and familiar +gesture—on his face an expression his wife knew well, while one small, +impatient hand tugged at his whiskers. +</P> + +<P> +But "old Mrs. Ocock" came to his rescue, bearing down upon him with an +outstretched hand, and a howdee-do that could be heard all over the +room: Tilly had long forgotten that she had ever borne him a grudge; +she it was who could now afford to patronise. "I hope I see you well, +doctor?—Oh, not a bit of it.... I left him at 'ome. Mr. O. has +something wrong, if you please, with his leg or his big toe—gout or +rheumatiz or something of that sort—and 'e's been so crabby with it +for the last day or so that to-night I said to 'im: 'No, my dear, +you'll just take a glass of hot toddy, and go early and comfortable to +your bed.' Musical parties aren't in his line anyhow." +</P> + +<P> +A lively clatter of tongues filled the room, the space of which was +taxed to its utmost: there were present, besides the friends and +intimates of the house, several of Mahony's colleagues, a couple of +Bank Managers, the Police Magistrate, the Postmaster, the Town Clerk, +all with their ladies. Before long, however, ominous pauses began to +break up the conversation, and Mary was accomplished hostess enough to +know what these meant. At a sign from her, Jerry lighted the candles on +the piano, and thereupon a fugue-like chorus went up: "Mrs. Mahony, +won't you play something?—Oh, do!—Yes, please, do.... I should enjoy +it so much." +</P> + +<P> +Mary did not wait to be pressed; it was her business to set the ball +rolling; and she stood up and went to the piano as unconcernedly as she +would have gone to sweep a room or make a bed. +</P> + +<P> +Placing a piece of music on the rack, she turned down the corners of +the leaves. But here Archdeacon Long's handsome, weatherbeaten face +looked over her shoulder. "I hope you're going to give us the cannons, +Mrs. Mahony?" he said genially. And so Mary obliged him by laying aside +the MORCEAU she had chosen, and setting up instead a "battle-piece," +that was a general favourite. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha! that's the ticket," said Henry Ocock, and rubbed his hands as +Mary struck up, pianissimo, the march that told of the enemy's approach. +</P> + +<P> +And: "Boompity-boomp-boomp-boomp!" Archdeacon Long could not refrain +from underlining each fresh salvo of artillery; while: "That's a breach +in their walls for 'em!" was Chinnery of the London Chartered's +contribution to the stock of fun. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony stood on the hearthrug and surveyed the assembly. His eyes fled +Mrs. Devine, most unfortunately perched on an ottoman in the middle of +the room, where she sat, purple, shiny and beaming, two hot, fat, red +hands clasped over her stomach ("Like a heathen idol! Confound the +woman! I shall have to go and do the polite to her"), and sought Mary +at the piano, hanging with pleasure on the slim form in the rich silk +dress. This caught numberless lights from the candles, as did also the +wings of her glossy hair. He watched, with a kind of amused tenderness, +how at each forte passage head and shoulders took their share of +lending force to the tones. He never greatly enjoyed Mary's playing. +She did well enough at it, God bless her!—it would not have been Mary +if she hadn't—but he came of a musical family; his mother had sung +Handel faultlessly in her day, besides having a mastery of several +instruments: and he was apt to be critical. Mary's firm, capable hands +looked out of place on a piano; seemed to stand in a sheerly business +relation to the keys. Nor was it otherwise with her singing: she had a +fair contralto, but her ear was at fault; and he sometimes found +himself swallowing nervously when she attacked high notes. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, doctor! your wife DO play the pianner lovely," said Mrs. Devine, +and her fat front rose and fell in an ecstatic sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"Richard dear, will you come?" Mary laid her hands on his shoulder: +their guests were clamouring for a DUO. Her touch was a caress: here he +was, making himself as pleasant as he knew how, to this old woman. When +it came to doing a kindness, you could rely on Richard; he was all bark +and no bite. +</P> + +<P> +Husband and wife blended their voices—Mary had been at considerable +pains to get up her part—and then Richard went on to a solo. He had a +clear, true tenor that was very agreeable to hear; and Mary felt quite +proud of his attainments. Later in the evening he might be persuaded to +give them a reading from Boz, or a recitation. At that kind of thing, +he had not his equal. +</P> + +<P> +But first there was a cry for his flute; and in vain did Mahony protest +that weeks had elapsed since he last screwed the instrument together. +He got no quarter, even from Mary—but then Mary was one of those +inconvenient people to whom it mattered not a jot what a fool you made +of yourself, as long as you did what was asked of you. And so, from +memory and unaccompanied, he played them the old familiar air of THE +MINSTREL BOY. The theme, in his rendering, was overlaid by florid +variations and cumbered with senseless repetitions; but, none the less, +the wild, wistful melody went home, touching even those who were not +musical to thoughtfulness and retrospect. The most obstinate +chatterers, whom neither sham battles nor Balfe and Blockley had +silenced, held their tongues; and Mrs. Devine openly wiped her eyes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + O, THE MINSTREL BOY TO THE WARS HAS GONE!<BR> + IN THE RANKS OF DEATH YOU'LL FIND HIM.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +While it was proceeding, Mary found herself seated next John. John +tapped his foot in time to the tune; and under cover of the applause at +its close remarked abruptly: "You should fatten Richard up a bit, Mary. +He could stand it." +</P> + +<P> +From where they sat they had Richard in profile, and Mary studied her +husband critically, her head a little on one side. "Yes, he IS rather +thin. But I don't think he was ever meant to be fat." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah well! we are none of us as young as we used to be," was John's +tribute to the power of music. And throwing out his stomach, he leaned +back in his chair and plugged the armholes of his vest with his thumbs. +</P> + +<P> +And now, after due pressing on the part of host and hostess, the other +members of the company advanced upon the piano, either singly or in +couples, to bear a hand in the burden of entertainment. Their seeming +reluctance had no basis in fact; for it was an unwritten law that every +one who could must add his mite; and only those who literally had "not +a note of music in them" were exempt. Tilly took a mischievous pleasure +in announcing bluntly: "So sorry, my dear, not to be able to do you a +tool-de-rool! But when the Honourable Mrs. T. and I were nippers we'd +no time to loll round pianos, nor any pianos to loll round!"—this, +just to see her brother-in-law's dark scowl; for no love—not even a +liking—was lost between her and John. But with this handful of +exceptions all nobly toed the line. Ladies with the tiniest reeds of +voices, which shook like reeds, warbled of Last Roses and Prairie +Flowers; others, with more force but due decorum, cried to Willie that +they had Missed Him, or coyly confessed to the presence of Silver +Threads Among the Gold; and Mrs. Chinnery, an old-young woman with a +long, lean neck, which she twisted this way and that in the exertion of +producing her notes, declared her love for an Old Armchair. The +gentlemen, in baritones and profundos, told the amorous adventures of +Ben Bolt; or desired to know what Home would be Without a Mother. Purdy +spiced the hour with a comic song, and in the character of an outraged +wife tickled the risibility of the ladies. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + WELL, WELL, SIR, SO YOU'VE COME AT LAST!<BR> + I THOUGHT YOU'D COME NO MORE.<BR> + I'VE WAITED, WITH MY BONNET ON,<BR> + FROM ONE TILL HALF-PAST FOUR!<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Zara and Mrs. Long both produced HOME THEY BROUGHT HER WARRIOR DEAD! +from their portfolios; so Zara good-naturedly gave way and struck up +ROBERT, TOI QUE J'AIME! which she had added to her repertory while in +England. No one could understand a word of what she sang; but the mere +fitting of the foreign syllables to the appropriate notes was +considered a feat in itself, and corroborative of the high gifts Zara +possessed. +</P> + +<P> +Strenuous efforts were needed to get Miss Amelia to her feet. She was +dying, as Mary knew, to perform her duet with Purdy; but when the +moment came she put forward so many reasons for not complying that most +people retired in despair. It took Mary to persevere. And finally the +little woman was persuaded to the piano, where, red with gratification, +she sat down, spread her skirts and unclasped her bracelets. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor little Amelia!" said Mary to herself, as she listened to a +romantic ballad in which Purdy, in the character of a high-minded +nobleman, sought the hand of a virtuous gipsy-maid. "And he doesn't +give her a second thought. If one could just tell her not to be so +silly!" +</P> + +<P> +Not only had Purdy never once looked near Amelia—for the most part he +had sat rather mum-chance, half-way in and out of a French window, even +Zara's attempts to enliven him falling flat—but, during an extra loud +performance, Tilly had confided to Mary the family's plans for their +spinster relative. And: "The poor little woman!" thought Mary again as +she listened. For, after having been tied for years to the sick bed of +a querulous mother; after braving the long sea-voyage, which for such a +timid soul was full of ambushes and terrors, Miss Amelia had reached +her journey's end only to find both father and brother comfortably +wived, and with no use for her. Neither of them wanted her. She had +been given house-room first by her father, then by the Henrys, and once +more had had to go back to the paternal roof. +</P> + +<P> +"It was nothing for Mossieu Henry in the long run," was his +stepmother's comment. But she laughed good-humouredly as she said it; +for, his first wrath at her intrusion over, Henry had more or less +become her friend; and now maintained that it was not a bad thing for +his old father to have a sensible, managing woman behind him. Tilly had +developed in many ways since her marriage; and Henry and she mutually +respected each other's practical qualities. +</P> + +<P> +The upshot of the affair was, she now told Mary, that Miss Amelia's +male relatives had subscribed a dowry for her. "It was me that insisted +Henry should pay his share—him getting all the money 'e did with +Agnes." And Amelia was to be married off to—"Well, if you turn your +head, my dear, you'll see who. Back there, helping to hold up the +doorpost." +</P> + +<P> +Under cover of Zara's roulades Mary cautiously looked round. It was +Henry's partner—young Grindle, now on the threshold of the thirties. +His side-whiskers a shade less flamboyant than of old, a heavy +watch-chain draped across his front, Grindle stood and lounged with his +hands in his pockets. +</P> + +<P> +Mary made round eyes. "Oh, but Tilly!... isn't it very risky? He's so +much younger than she is. Suppose she shouldn't be happy?" +</P> + +<P> +"That'll be all right, Mary, trust me. Only give 'er a handle to 'er +name, and Amelia 'ud be happy with any one. She hasn't THAT much +backbone in 'er. Besides, my dear, you think, she's over forty! Let her +take 'er chance and be thankful. It isn't every old maid 'ud get such +an offer." +</P> + +<P> +"And is ... is HE agreeable?" asked Mary, still unconvinced. +</P> + +<P> +Tilly half closed her right eye and protruded the tip of her tongue. +"You could stake your last fiver on it, he is!" +</P> + +<P> +But now that portion of the entertainment devoted to art was at an end, +and the serious business of the evening began. Card-tables had been set +out—for loo, as for less hazardous games. In principle, Mahony +objected to the high play that was the order of the day; but if you +invited people to your house you could not ask them to screw their +points down from crowns to halfpence. They would have thanked you +kindly and have stayed at home. Here, at the loo-table places were +eagerly snapped up, Henry Ocock and his stepmother being among the +first to secure seats: both were keen, hard players, who invariably +re-lined their well-filled pockets. +</P> + +<P> +It would not have been the thing for either Mahony or his wife to take +a hand; several of the guests held aloof. John had buttonholed old +Devine; Jinny and Agnes were still lost in domesticities. Dear little +Agnes had grown so retiring of late, thought Mary; she quite avoided +the society of gentlemen, in which she had formerly taken such +pleasure. Richard and Archdeacon Long sat on the verandah, and in +moving to and fro, Mary caught a fragment of their talk: they were at +the debatable question of table-turning, and her mental comment was a +motherly and amused: "That Richard, who is so clever, can interest +himself in such nonsense!" Further on, Zara was giving Grindle an +account of her voyage "home," and ticking off the reasons that had led +to her return. She sat across a hammock, and daintily exposed a very +neat ankle. "It was much too sleepy and dull for ME! No, I've QUITE +decided to spend the rest of my days in the colony." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Devine was still perched on her ottoman. She beamed at her +hostess. "No, I dunno one card from another, dearie, and don' want to. +Oh, my dear, what a LOVELY party it 'as been, and 'ow well you've +carried it h'off!" +</P> + +<P> +Mary nodded and smiled; but with an air of abstraction. The climax of +her evening was fast approaching. Excusing herself, she slipped away +and went to cast a last eye over her supper-tables, up and down which +benches were ranged, borrowed from the Sunday School. To her surprise +she found herself followed by Mrs. Devine. +</P> + +<P> +"DO let me 'elp you, my dear, do, now! I feel that stiff and silly +sittin' stuck up there with me 'ands before me. And jes' send that +young feller about 'is business." +</P> + +<P> +So Purdy and his offers of assistance were returned with thanks to the +card-room, and Mrs. Devine pinned up her black silk front. But not till +she had freely vented her astonishment at the profusion of Mary's good +things. "'Ow DO you git 'em to rise so?—No, I never did! Fit for +Buckin'am Palace and Queen Victoria! And all by your little self, +too.—My dear, I must give you a good 'UG!" +</P> + +<P> +Hence, when at twelve o'clock the company began to stream in, they +found Mrs. Devine installed behind the barricade of cups, saucers and +glasses; and she it was who dispensed tea and coffee and ladled out the +claret-cup; thus leaving Mary free to keep an argus eye on her +visitors' plates. At his entry Richard had raised expostulating +eyebrows; but his tongue of course was tied. And Mary made a lifelong +friend. +</P> + +<P> +And now for the best part of an hour Mary's sandwiches, sausage-rolls +and meat-pies; her jam-rolls, pastries and lemon-sponges; her jellies, +custards and creams; her blanc and jaunemanges and whipped syllabubs; +her trifles, tipsy-cakes and charlotte-russes formed the theme of talk +and objects of attention. And though the ladies picked with becoming +daintiness, the gentlemen made up for their partners' deficiencies; and +there was none present who did not, in the shape of a hearty and +well-turned compliment, add yet another laurel to Mary's crown. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0403"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter III +</H3> + +<P> +It had struck two before the party began to break up. The first move +made, however, the guests left in batches, escorting one another to +their respective house-doors. The Henry Ococks' buggy had been in +waiting for some time, and Mrs. Henry's pretty head was drooping with +fatigue before Henry, who was in the vein, could tear himself from the +card-table. Mahony went to the front gate with them; then strolled with +the Longs to the corner of the road. +</P> + +<P> +He was in no hurry to retrace his steps. The air was balmy, after that +of the overcrowded rooms, and it was a fabulously beautiful night. The +earth lay steeped in moonshine, as in the light of a silver sun. Trees +and shrubs were patterned to their last leaf on the ground before them. +What odd mental twist made mortals choose rather to huddle indoors, by +puny candle-light, than to be abroad laving themselves in a splendour +such as this? +</P> + +<P> +Leaning his arms on the top rail of a fence, he looked across the slope +at the Flat, now hushed and still as the encampment of a sleeping army. +Beyond, the bush shimmered palely grey—in his younger years he had +been used, on a night like this when the moon sailed full and free, to +take his gun and go opossuming. Those two old woody gods, Warrenheip +and Buninyong, stood out more imposingly than by day; but the ranges +seemed to have retreated. The light lay upon them like a visible +burden, flattening their contours, filling up clefts and fissures with +a milky haze. +</P> + +<P> +"Good evening, doctor!" +</P> + +<P> +Spoken in his very ear, the words made him jump. He had been lost in +contemplation; and the address had a ghostly suddenness. But it was no +ghost that stood beside him—nor indeed was it a night for those +presences to be abroad whose element is the dark. +</P> + +<P> +Ill-pleased at the intrusion, he returned but a stiff nod: then, since +he could not in decency greet and leave-take in a breath, feigned to go +on for a minute with his study of the landscape. After which he said: +"Well, I must be moving. Good night to you." +</P> + +<P> +"So you're off your sleep, too, are you?" As often happens, the impulse +to speak was a joint one. The words collided. +</P> + +<P> +Instinctively Mahony shrank into himself; this familiar bracketing of +his person with another's was distasteful to him. Besides, the man who +had sprung up at his elbow bore a reputation that was none of the best. +The owner of a small chemist's shop on the Flat, he contrived to give +offence in sundry ways: he was irreligious—an infidel, his neighbours +had it—and of a Sabbath would scour his premises or hoe potatoes +rather than attend church or chapel. Though not a confirmed drunkard, +he had been seen to stagger in the street, and be unable to answer when +spoken to. Also, the woman with whom he lived was not generally +believed to be his lawful wife. Hence the public fought shy of his +nostrums; and it was a standing riddle how he managed to avoid putting +up his shutters. More nefarious practices no doubt, said the relentless +VOX POPULI.—Seen near at hand, he was a tall, haggard-looking fellow +of some forty years of age, the muscles on his neck standing out like +those of a skinny old horse. +</P> + +<P> +Here, his gratuitous assumption of a common bond drew a cold: "Pray, +what reason have you to think that?" from Mahony. And without waiting +for a reply he again said good night and turned to go. +</P> + +<P> +The man accepted the rebuff with a meekness that was painful to see. +"Thought, comin' on you like this, you were a case like my own. No +offence, I'm sure," he said humbly. It was evident he was well used to +getting the cold shoulder. Mahony stayed his steps. "What's the matter +with you?" he asked. "Aren't you well? There's a remedy to be found for +most ills under the sun." +</P> + +<P> +"Not for mine! The doctor isn't born or the drug discovered that could +cure me." +</P> + +<P> +The tone of bragging bitterness grated anew. Himself given to the vice +of overstatement, Mahony had small mercy on it in others. "Tut, tut!" +he deprecated. +</P> + +<P> +There was a brief silence before the speaker went on more quietly: +"You're a young man, doctor, I'm an old one." And he looked old as he +spoke; Mahony saw that he had erred in putting him down as merely +elderly. He was old and grey and down-at-heel—fifty, if a day—and his +clothes hung loose on his bony frame. "You'll excuse me if I say I know +better'n you. When a man's done, he's done. And that's me. Yes,"—he +grew inflated again in reciting his woes—"I'm one o' your hopeless +cases, just as surely as if I was being eaten up by a cancer or a +consumption. To mend me, you doctors 'ud need to start me afresh—from +the mother-egg." +</P> + +<P> +"You exaggerate, I'm sure." +</P> + +<P> +"It's that—knowin' one's played out, with by rights still a good third +of one's life to run—that's what puts the sleep away. In the daylight +it's none so hard to keep the black thoughts under; themselves they're +not so daresome; and there's one's pipe, and the haver o' the young +fry. But night's the time! Then they come tramplin' along, a whole army +of 'em, carryin' banners with letters a dozen feet high, so's you +shan't miss rememberin' what you'd give your soul to forget. And so +it'll go on, et cetera and ad lib., till it pleases the old Joker who +sits grinnin' up aloft to put His heel down—as you or me would squash +a bull-ant or a scorpion." +</P> + +<P> +"You speak bitterly, Mr. Tangye. Does a night like this not bring you +calmer, clearer thoughts?" and Mahony waved his arm in a large, loose +gesture at the sky. +</P> + +<P> +His words passed unheeded. The man he addressed spun round and faced +him, with a rusty laugh. "Hark at that!" he cried. "Just hark at it! +Why, in all the years I've been in this God-forsaken place—long as +I've been here—I've never yet heard my own name properly spoken. +You're the first, doctor. You shall have the medal." +</P> + +<P> +"But, man alive, you surely don't let that worry you? Why, I've the +same thing to put up with every day of my life. I smile at it." And +Mahony believed what he said, forgetting, in the antagonism such spleen +roused in him, the annoyance the false stressing of his own name could +sometimes cause him. +</P> + +<P> +"So did I, once," said Tangye, and wagged his head. "But the day came +when it seemed the last straw; a bit o' mean spite on the part o' this +hell of a country itself." +</P> + +<P> +"You dislike the colony, it appears, intensely?" +</P> + +<P> +"You like it?" The counter question came tip for tap. +</P> + +<P> +"I can be fair to it, I hope, and appreciate its good sides." As +always, the mere hint of an injustice made Mahony passionately just. +</P> + +<P> +"Came 'ere of your own free will, did you? Weren't crowded out at home? +Or bamboozled by a pack o' lying tales?" Tangye's voice was husky with +eagerness. +</P> + +<P> +"That I won't say either. But it is entirely my own choice that I +remain here." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I say to you, think twice of it! If you have the chance of +gettin' away, take it. It's no place this, doctor, for the likes of you +and me. Haven't you never turned and asked yourself what the devil you +were doin' here? And that reminds me.... There was a line we used to +have drummed into us at school—it's often come back to me since. +COELUM, NON ANIMUM, MUTANT, QUI TRANS MARE CURRUNT. In our green days +we gabbled that off by rote; then, it seemed just one more o' the +eel-sleek phrases the classics are full of. Now, I take off my hat to +the man who wrote it. He knew what he was talkin' about—by the Lord +Harry, he did!" +</P> + +<P> +The Latin had come out tentatively, with an odd, unused intonation. +Mahony's retort: "How on earth do you know what suits me and what +doesn't?" died on his lips. He was surprised into silence. There had +been nothing in the other's speech to show that he was a man of any +education—rather the reverse. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile Tangye went on: "I grant you it's an antiquated point o' +view; but doesn't that go to prove what I've been sayin'; that you and +me are old-fashioned, too—out-o'-place here, out-o'-date? The modern +sort, the sort that gets on in this country, is a prime hand at cuttin' +his coat to suit his cloth; for all that the stop-at-homes, like the +writer o' that line and other ancients, prate about the Ethiopian's +hide or the leopard and his spots. They didn't buy their experience +dear, like we did; didn't guess that if a man DON'T learn to fit +himself in, when he gets set down in such a land as this, he's a goner; +any more'n they knew that most o' those who hold out here—all of 'em +at any rate who've climbed the ladder, nabbed the plunder—have found +no more difficulty in changin' their spots than they have their +trousers. Yes, doctor, there's only one breed that flourishes, and you +don't need me to tell you which it is. Here they lie"—and he nodded to +right and left of him—"dreamin' o' their money-bags, and their +dividends, and their profits, and how they'll diddle and swindle one +another afresh, soon as the sun gets up to-morrow. Harder 'n nails they +are, and sharp as needles. You ask me why I do my walkin' out in the +night-time? It's so's to avoid the sight o' their mean little eyes, and +their greedy, graspin' faces." +</P> + +<P> +Mahony's murmured disclaimer fell on deaf ears. Like one who had been +bottled up for months, Tangye flowed on. "What a life! What a set! What +a place to end one's days in! Remember, if you can, the yarns that were +spun round it for our benefit, from twenty thousand safe miles away. It +was the Land o' Promise and Plenty, topful o' gold, strewn over with +nuggets that only waited for hands to pick 'em up.—Lies!—lies from +beginnin' to end! I say to you this is the hardest and cruellest +country ever created, and a man like me's no more good here than the +muck—the parin's and stale fishguts and other leavin's—that knocks +about a harbour and washes against the walls. I'll tell you the only +use I'll have been here, doctor, when my end comes: I'll dung some bit +o' land for 'em with my moulder and rot. That's all. They'd do better +with my sort if they knocked us on the head betimes, and boiled us down +for our fat and marrow." +</P> + +<P> +Not much in that line to be got from YOUR carcase, my friend, thought +Mahony, with an inward smile. +</P> + +<P> +But Tangye had paused merely to draw breath. "What I say is, instead o' +layin' snares for us, it ought to be forbid by law to give men o' my +make ship room. At home in the old country we'd find our little nook, +and jog along decently to the end of our days. But just the staid, +respectable, orderly sort I belonged to's neither needed nor wanted +here. I fall to thinkin' sometimes on the fates of the hundreds of +honest, steady-goin' lads, who at one time or another have chucked up +their jobs over there—for this. The drink no doubt's took most: they +never knew before that one COULD sweat as you sweat here. And the rest? +Well, just accident ... or the sun ... or dysentery... or the bloody +toil that goes by the name o' work in these parts—you know the list, +doctor, better'n me. They say the waste o' life in a new country can't +be helped; doesn't matter; has to be. But that's cold comfort to the +wasted. No! I say to you, there ought to be an Act of Parliament to +prevent young fellows squanderin' themselves, throwin' away their lives +as I did mine. For when we're young, we're not sane. Youth's a fever o' +the brain. And I WAS young once, though you mightn't believe it; I had +straight joints, and no pouch under my chin, and my full share o' windy +hopes. Senseless truck these! To be spilled overboard bit by bit—like +on a hundred-mile tramp a new-chum finishes by pitchin' from his swag +all the needless rubbish he's started with. What's wanted to get on +here's somethin' quite else. Horny palms and costive bowels; more'n a +dash o' the sharper; and no sickly squeamishness about knockin' out +other men and steppin' into their shoes. And I was only an ordinary +young chap; not over-strong nor over-shrewd, but honest—honest, by God +I was! That didn't count. It even stood in my way. For I was too good +for this and too mealy-mouthed for that; and while I stuck, considerin' +the fairness of a job, some one who didn't care a damn whether it was +fair or not, walked in over my head and took it from me. There isn't +anything I haven't tried my luck at, and with everything it's been the +same. Nothin's prospered; the money wouldn't come—or stick if it did. +And so here I am—all that's left of me. It isn't much; and by and by a +few rank weeds 'ull spring from it, and old Joey there, who's paid to +grub round the graves, old Joey 'ull curse and say: a weedy fellow +that, a rotten, weedy blackguard; and spit on his hands and hoe, till +the weeds lie bleedin' their juices—the last heirs of me ... the last +issue of my loins!" +</P> + +<P> +"Pray, does it never occur to you, you fool, that FLOWERS may spring +from you?" +</P> + +<P> +He had listened to Tangye's diatribe in a white heat of impatience. But +when he spoke he struck an easy tone—nor was he in any hesitation how +to reply: for that, he had played devil's advocate all too often with +himself in private. An unlovely country, yes, as Englishmen understood +beauty; and yet not without a charm of its own. An arduous life, +certainly, and one full of pitfalls for the weak or the unwary; yet he +believed it was no more impossible to win through here, and with clean +hands, than anywhere else. To generalise as his companion had done was +absurd. Preposterous, too, the notion that those of their +fellow-townsmen who had carried off the prizes owed their success to +some superiority in bodily strength ... or sharp dealing ... or +thickness of skin. With Mr. Tangye's permission he would cite himself +as an example. He was neither a very robust man, nor, he ventured to +say, one of any marked ability in the other two directions. Yet he had +managed to succeed without, in the process, sacrificing jot or tittle +of his principles; and to-day he held a position that any member of his +profession across the seas might envy him. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but till you got there!" cried Tangye. "Hasn't every superfluous +bit of you—every thought of interest that wasn't essential to the +daily grind—been pared off?" +</P> + +<P> +"If," said Mahony stiffening, "if what you mean by that is, have I +allowed my mind to grow narrow and sluggish, I can honestly answer no." +</P> + +<P> +In his heart he denied the charge even more warmly; for, as he spoke, +he saw the great cork-slabs on which hundreds of moths and butterflies +made dazzling spots of colour; saw the sheets of pink blotting-paper +between which his collection of native plants lay pressed; the glass +case filled with geological specimens; his Bible, the margins of which +round Genesis were black with his handwriting; a pile of books on the +new marvel Spiritualism; Colenso's PENTATEUCH; the big black volumes of +the ARCANA COELESTIA; Locke on Miracles: he saw all these things and +more. "No, I'm glad to say I have retained many interests outside my +work." +</P> + +<P> +Tangye had taken off his spectacles and was polishing them on a +crumpled handkerchief. He seemed about to reply, even made a quick +half-turn towards Mahony; then thought better of it, and went on +rubbing. A smile played round his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"And in conclusion let me say this," went on Mahony, not unnettled by +his companion's expression. "It's sheer folly to talk about what life +makes of us. Life is not an active force. It's we who make what we +will, of life. And in order to shape it to the best of our powers, Mr. +Tangye, to put our brief span to the best possible use, we must never +lose faith in God or our fellow-men; never forget that, whatever +happens, there is a sky, with stars in it, above us." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, there's a lot of bunkum talked about life," returned Tangye dryly, +and settled his glasses on his nose. "And as man gets near the end of +it, he sees just WHAT bunkum it is. Life's only got one meanin', +doctor; seen plain, there's only one object in everything we do; and +that's to keep a sound roof over our heads and a bite in our +mouths—and in those of the helpless creatures who depend on us. The +rest has no more sense or significance than a nigger's hammerin' on the +tam-tam. The lucky one o' this world don't grasp it; but we others do; +and after all p'raps, it's worth while havin' gone through it to have +got at ONE bit of the truth, however, small. Good night." +</P> + +<P> +He turned on his heel, and before his words were cold on the air had +vanished, leaving Mahony blankly staring. +</P> + +<P> +The moonshine still bathed the earth, gloriously untroubled by the +bitterness of human words and thoughts. But the night seemed to have +grown chilly; and Mahony gave an involuntary shiver. "Some one walking +over my ... now what would that specimen have called it? Over the four +by eight my remains will one day manure!" +</P> + +<P> +"An odd, abusive, wrong-headed fellow," he mused, as he made his way +home. "Who would ever have thought, though, that the queer little +chemist had so much in him? A failure? ... yes, he was right there; and +as unlovely as failures always are—at close quarters." But as he laid +his hands on the gate, he jerked up his head and exclaimed half aloud: +"God bless my soul! What he wanted was not argument or reason but a +little human sympathy." As usual, however, the flash of intuition came +too late. "For such a touchy nature I'm certainly extraordinarily +obtuse where the feelings of others are concerned," he told himself as +he hooked in the latch. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Richard, where HAVE you been?" came Mary's clear voice—muted so +as not to disturb John and Jinny, who had retired to rest. Purdy and +she sat waiting on the verandah. "Were you called out? We've had time +to clear everything away. Here, dear, I saved you some sandwiches and a +glass of claret. I'm sure you didn't get any supper yourself, with +looking after other people." +</P> + +<P> +Long after Mary had fallen asleep he lay wakeful. His foolish blunder +in response to Tangye's appeal rankled in his mind. He could not get +over his insensitiveness. How he had boasted of his prosperity, his +moral nicety, his saving pursuits—he to boast!—when all that was +asked of him was a kindly: "My poor fellow soul, you have indeed fought +a hard fight; but there IS a God above us who will recompense you at +His own time, take the word for it of one who has also been through the +Slough of Despond." And then just these ... these hobbies of his, of +which he had made so much. Now that he was alone with himself he saw +them in a very different light. Lepidoptera collected years since were +still unregistered, plants and stones unclassified; his poor efforts at +elucidating the Bible waited to be brought into line with the Higher +Criticism; Home's levitations and fire-tests called for investigation; +while the leaves of some of the books he had cited had never even been +cut. The mere thought of these things was provocative, rest-destroying. +To induce drowsiness he went methodically through the list of his +acquaintances, and sought to range them under one or other of Tangye's +headings. And over this there came moments when he lapsed into depths +... fetched himself up again—but with an effort ... only to fall +back.... +</P> + +<P> +But he seemed barely to have closed his eyes when the night-bell rang. +In an instant he was on his feet in the middle of the room, applying +force to his sleep-cogged wits. +</P> + +<P> +He threw open the sash. "Who's there? What is it?" +</P> + +<P> +Henry Ocock's groom. "I was to fetch you out to our place at once, +governor." +</P> + +<P> +"But—Is Mrs. Henry taken ill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not as I know of," said the man dryly. "But her and the boss had a bit +of a tiff on the way home, and Madam's excited-like." +</P> + +<P> +"And am I to pay for their tiffs?" muttered Mahony hotly. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush, Richard! He'll hear you," warned Mary, and sat up. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall decline to go. Henry's a regular old woman." +</P> + +<P> +Mary shook her head. "You can't afford to offend the Henrys. And you +know what he is so hasty. He'd call in some one else on the spot, and +you'd never get back. If only you hadn't stayed out so long, dear, +looking at the moon!" +</P> + +<P> +"Good God! Mary, is one never to have a moment to oneself? Never a +particle of pleasure or relaxation?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Richard!" expostulated his wife, and even felt a trifle ashamed +of his petulance. "What would you call to-night, I wonder? Wasn't the +whole evening one of pleasure and relaxation?" +</P> + +<P> +And Mahony, struggling into shirt and trousers, had to admit that he +would be hard put to it to give it another name. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0404"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter IV +</H3> + +<P> +Hush, dolly! Mustn't cry, and make a noise. Uncle Richard's cross. +</P> + +<P> +Trotty sat on a hassock and rocked a china babe, with all the +appurtenant mother-fuss she had picked up from the tending of her tiny +stepsister. The present Trotty was a demure little maid of some seven +summers, who gave the impression of having been rather rudely +elongated. Her flaxen hair was stiffly imprisoned behind a round black +comb; and her big blue eyes alone remained to her from a lovely +infancy. ("Poor Emma's eyes," said Mary.) +</P> + +<P> +Imitative as a monkey she went on—with a child's perfect knowledge +that it is all make-believe, yet with an entire credence in the power +of make-believe: "Naughty child—WILL you be quiet? There! You've frown +your counterpane off now. Wonder what next you'll do. I declare I'll +slap you soon—you make me so cross." +</P> + +<P> +Through the surgery-window the words floated out: "For goodness' sake, +don't bother me now with such trifles, Mary! It's not the moment—with +a whole string of people waiting in the other room." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if only you'll be satisfied with what I do, dear, and not blame +me afterwards." +</P> + +<P> +"Get Purdy to give you a hand with Ned's affair. He has time and to +spare." And wetting his finger-tip Mahony nervously flipped over a +dozen pages of the book that lay open before him. +</P> + +<P> +"Well ... if you think I should," said Mary, with a spice of doubt. +</P> + +<P> +"I do. And now go, wife, and remember to shut the door after you. Oh, +and tell that woman in the kitchen to stop singing. Her false notes +drive me crazy.—How many are there, this morning?" +</P> + +<P> +"Eight—no, nine, if that's another," replied Mary, with an ear to the +front door. +</P> + +<P> +"Tch! I'll have to stop then," and Mahony clapped to the work he had +been consulting. "Never a minute to keep abreast of the times." But: +"That's a good, helpful wife," as Mary stooped to kiss him. "Do the +best you can, mavourneen, and never mind me." +</P> + +<P> +"Take me with you, Auntie!" Trotty sprang up from her stool, +overturning babe and cradle. +</P> + +<P> +"Not to-day, darling. Besides, why are you here? You know I've +forbidden you to be on the front verandah when the patients come. Run +away to the back, and play there." +</P> + +<P> +Mary donned hat and shawl, opened her parasol and went out into the +sun. With the years she had developed into rather a stately young +woman: she held her head high and walked with a firm, free step. +</P> + +<P> +Her first visit was to the stable to find Long Jim—or Old Jim as they +now called him; for he was nearing the sixties. The notice to leave, +which he had given the day before, was one of the "trifles" it fell to +her to consider. Personally Mary thought his going would be no great +loss: he knew nothing about a garden, yet resented instruction; and it +had always been necessary to get outside help in for the horses. If he +went they could engage some one who would combine the posts. But +Richard had taken umbrage at the old man's tone; had even been +nervously upset over it. It behoved her to find out what the matter was. +</P> + +<P> +"I want a change," said Old Jim dourly in response to her inquiry; and +went on polishing wheel-spokes, and making the wheel fly. "I've bin +'ere too long. An' now I've got a bit o' brass together, an' am +thinkin' I'd like to be me own master for a spell." +</P> + +<P> +"But at your age, Jim, is it wise?—to throw up a comfortable home, +just because you've laid a little past?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's enough to keep me. I turned over between four and five 'undred +last week in 'Piecrusts.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" said Mary, taken by surprise. "Then that—that's your only reason +for wishing to leave?" And as he did not reply, but went on swishing: +"Come, Jim, if you've anything on your mind, say it out. The doctor +didn't like the way you spoke to him last night." +</P> + +<P> +At this the old man straightened his back, took a straw from between +his teeth, spat and said: "Well, if you must know, Mrs. Mahony, the +doctor's not the boss it pleases me to be h'under any more—and that's +the trewth. I'm tired of it—dog-tired. You can slave yer 'ead off for +'im, and 'e never notices a thing you do, h'or if 'e does, it's on'y to +find fault. It h'ain't 'uman, I say, and I'll be danged if I stand it +h'any longer." +</P> + +<P> +But people who came to Mary with criticism of Richard got no mercy. +"You're far too touchy, Jim. YOU know, if any one does, how rushed and +busy the doctor is, and you ought to be the first to make allowance for +him—after all he's done for you. You wouldn't be here now, if it +hadn't been for him. And then to expect him to notice and praise you +for every little job you do!" +</P> + +<P> +But Jim was stubborn. 'E didn't want to deny anything. But 'e'd rather +go. An' this day a week if it suited her. +</P> + +<P> +"It's really dreadful how uppish the lower classes get as soon as they +have a little money in their pocket," she said to herself, as she +walked the shadeless, sandy road. But this thought was like a shadow +cast by her husband's mind on hers, and was ousted by the more +indigenous: "But after all who can blame him, poor old fellow, for +wanting to take life easy if he has the chance." She even added: "He +might have gone off, as most of them do, without a word." +</P> + +<P> +Then her mind reverted to what he had said of Richard, and she pondered +the antagonism that had shown through his words. It was not the first +time she had run up against this spirit, but, as usual, she was at a +loss to explain it. Why should people of Old Jim's class dislike +Richard as they did?—find him so hard to get on with? He was +invariably considerate of them, and treated them very generously with +regard to money. And yet ... for some reason or other they felt injured +by him; and thought and spoke of him with a kind of churlish +resentment. She was not clever enough to find the key to the riddle—it +was no such simple explanation as that he felt himself too good for +them. That was not the case: he was proud, certainly, but she had never +known any one who—under, it was true, a rather sarcastic manner—was +more broadly tolerant of his fellow-men. And she wound up her soliloquy +with the lame admission: "Yes, in spite of all his kindness, I suppose +he IS queer ... decidedly queer," and then she heaved a sigh. What a +pity it was! When you knew him to be, at heart, such a dear, good, +well-meaning man. +</P> + +<P> +A short walk brought her to the four-roomed cottage where Ned lived +with wife and children. Or had lived, till lately. He had been missing +from his home now for over a week. On the last occasion of his being in +Melbourne with the carrying-van, he had decamped, leaving the boy who +was with him to make the return journey alone. Since then, nothing +could be heard of him; and his billet in the Agency had been snapped up. +</P> + +<P> +"Or so they say!" said his wife, with an angry sniff. "I don't believe +a word of it, Mary. Since the railway's come, biz has gone to the dogs; +and they're only too glad to get the chance of sacking another man." +</P> + +<P> +Polly looked untidier than ever; she wore a slatternly wrapper, and her +hair was thrust unbrushed into its net. But she suffered, no doubt, in +her own way; she was red-eyed, and very hasty-handed with her nestful +of babes. Sitting in the cheerless parlour, Ned's dark-eyed eldest on +her knee, Mary strove to soothe and encourage. But: it has never been +much of a home for the poor boy was her private opinion; and she +pressed her cheek affectionately against the little black curly head +that was a replica of Ned's own. +</P> + +<P> +"What's goin' to become of us all, the Lord only knows," said Polly, +after having had the good cry the sympathetic presence of her +sister-in-law justified. "I'm not a brown cent troubled about Ned—only +boiling with 'im. 'E's off on the booze, sure enough—and 'e'll turn up +again, safe and sound, like loose fish always do. Wait till I catch 'im +though! He'll get it hot." +</P> + +<P> +"We never ought to have come here," she went on drying her eyes. "Drat +the place and all that's in it, that's what I say! He did better'n this +in Castlemaine; and I'd pa behind me there. But once Richard had sent +'im that twenty quid, he'd no rest till he got away. And I thought, +when he was so set on it, may be it'd have a good effect on 'im, to be +near you both. But that was just another shoot into the brown. You've +been A1, Mary; you've done your level best. But Richard's never treated +Ned fair. I don't want to take Ned's part; he's nothing in the world +but a pretty-faced noodle. But Richard's treated 'im as if he was the +dirt under 'is feet. And Ned's felt it. Oh, I know whose doing it was, +we were never asked up to the house when you'd company. It wasn't +YOURS, my dear! But we can't all have hyphens to our names, and go +driving round with kid gloves on our hands and our noses in the air." +</P> + +<P> +Mary felt quite depressed by this fresh attack on her husband. +Reminding herself, however, that Polly was excited and over-wrought, +she did not speak out the defence that leapt to her tongue. She said +staunchly: "As you put it, Polly, it does seem as if we haven't acted +rightly towards Ned. But it wasn't Richard's doing alone. I've been +just as much to blame as he has." +</P> + +<P> +She sat on, petting the fractious children and giving kindly +assurances: as long as she and Richard had anything themselves, Ned's +wife and Ned's children should not want: and as she spoke, she slipped +a substantial proof of her words into Polly's unproud hand. Besides, +she believed there was every chance now of Ned soon being restored to +them; and she told how they were going, that very morning, to invoke +Mr. Smith's aid. Mr. Smith was in the Police, as Polly knew, and had +influential friends among the Force in Melbourne. By to-morrow there +might be good news to bring her. +</P> + +<P> +Almost an hour had passed when she rose to leave. Mrs. Ned was so +grateful for the visit and the help that, out in the narrow little +passage, she threw her arms round Mary's neck and drew her to her +bosom. Holding her thus, after several hearty kisses, she said in a +mysterious whisper, with her lips close to Mary's ear: "Mary, love, may +I say something to you?" and the permission granted, went on: "That is, +give you a bit of a hint, dearie?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, of course you may, Polly." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure you won't feel hurt, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Quite sure. What is it?" and Mary disengaged herself, that she might +look the speaker in the face. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's just this—you mentioned the name yourself, or I wouldn't +have dared. It's young Mr. Smith, Mary. My dear, in future don't you +have 'im quite so much about the house as you do at present. It ain't +the thing. People WILL talk, you know, if you give 'em a handle." ("Oh, +but Polly!" in a blank voice from Mary.) "Now, now, I'm not blaming +you—not the least tiddly-wink. But there's no harm in being careful, +is there, love, if you don't want your name in people's mouths? I'm +that fond of you, Mary—you don't mind me speaking, dearie?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Polly, I don't. But it's the greatest nonsense—I never heard such +a thing!" said Mary hotly. "Why, Purdy is Richard's oldest friend. They +were schoolboys together." +</P> + +<P> +"May be they were. But I hear 'e's mostly up at your place when +Richard's out. And you're a young and pretty woman, my dear; it's +Richard who ought to think of it, and he so much older than you. Well, +just take the hint, love. It comes best, don't it, from one of the +family?" +</P> + +<P> +But Mary left the house in a sad flurry; and even forgot for a street +length to open her parasol. +</P> + +<P> +Her first impulse was to go straight to Richard. But she had not +covered half a dozen yards before she saw that this would never do. At +the best of times Richard abominated gossip; and the fact of it having, +in the present case, dared to fasten its fangs in some one belonging to +him would make him doubly wroth. He might even try to find out who had +started the talk; and get himself into hot water over it. Or he might +want to lay all the blame on his own shoulders—make himself the +reproaches Ned's Polly had not spared him. Worse still, he would +perhaps accuse Purdy of inconsiderateness towards her, and fly into a +rage with him; and then the two of them would quarrel, which would be a +thousand pities. For though he often railed at Purdy, yet that was only +Richard's way: he was genuinely fond of him, and unbent to him as to +nobody else. +</P> + +<P> +But these were just so many pretexts put forward to herself by Mary for +keeping silence; the real reason lay deeper. Eight years of married +life had left her, where certain subjects were concerned, with all the +modesty of her girlhood intact. There were things, indelicate things, +which COULD not be spoken out, even between husband and wife. For her +to have to step before Richard and say: some one else feels for me in +the same way as you, my husband, do, would make her ever after unable +frankly to meet his eyes. Besides giving the vague, cobwebby stuff a +body it did not deserve. +</P> + +<P> +But yet again this was not the whole truth: she had another, more +uncomfortable side of it to face; and the flies buzzed unheeded round +her head. The astonishment she had shown at her sister-in-law's warning +had not been altogether sincere. Far down in her heart Mary found a +faint, faint trace of complicity. For months past—she could admit it +now—she had not felt easy about Purdy. Something disagreeable, +disturbing, had crept into their relations. The jolly, brotherly manner +she liked so well had deserted him; besides short-tempered he had grown +deadly serious, and not the stupidest woman could fail altogether to +see what the matter was. But she had wilfully bandaged her eyes. And +if, now and then, some word or look had pierced her guard and +disquieted her in spite of herself, she had left it at an incredulous: +"Oh, but then... But even if... In that case...." She now saw her +fervent hope had been that the affair would blow over without coming to +anything; prove to be just another passing fancy on the part of the +unstable Purdy. How many had she not assisted at! This very summer, for +instance, a charming young lady from Sydney had stayed with the +Urquharts; and, as long as her visit lasted, they had seen little or +nothing of Purdy. Whenever he got off duty he was at Yarangobilly. As +it happened, however, Mr. Urquhart himself had been so assiduous in +taking his guest about that Purdy had had small chance of making an +impression. And, in looking back on the incident, what now rose most +clearly before Mary's mind was the way in which Mrs. Urquhart—poor +thing, she was never able to go anywhere with her husband: either she +had a child in arms or another coming; the row of toddlers mounted up +in steps—the way in which she had said, with her pathetic smile: "Ah, +my dear! Willie needs some one gayer and stronger than I am, for +company." Mary's heart had been full of pity at the time, for her +friend's lot; and it swelled again now at the remembrance. +</P> + +<P> +But oh dear! this was straying from the point. Impatiently she jerked +her thoughts back to herself and her own dilemma. What ought she to do? +She was not a person who could sit still with folded hands and await +events. How would it be if she spoke to Purdy herself? ... talked +seriously to him about his work? ... tried to persuade him to leave +Ballarat. Did he mean to hang on here for ever, she would say—never +intend to seek promotion? But then again, the mere questioning would +cause a certain awkwardness. While, at the slightest trip or blunder on +her part, what was unsaid might suddenly find itself said; and the +whole thing cease to be the vague, cloudy affair it was at present. And +though she would actually rather this happened with regard to Purdy +than Richard, yet ... yet.... +</P> + +<P> +Worried and perplexed, unable to see before her the straight plain path +she loved, Mary once more sighed from the bottom of her heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh if ONLY men wouldn't be so foolish!" +</P> + +<P> +Left to himself Mahony put away his books, washed his hands and +summoned one by one to his presence the people who waited in the +adjoining room. He drew a tooth, dressed a wounded wrist, prescribed +for divers internal disorders—all told, a baker's dozen of odd jobs. +</P> + +<P> +When the last patient had gone he propped open the door, wiped his +forehead and read the thermometer that hung on the wall: it marked 102 +degrees. Dejectedly he drove, in fancy, along the glaring, treeless +roads, inches deep in cinnamon-coloured dust. How one learnt to hate +the sun out here. What wouldn't he give for a cool, grey-green Irish +day, with a wet wind blowing in from the sea?—a day such as he had +heedlessly squandered hundreds of, in his youth. Now it made his mouth +water only to think of them. +</P> + +<P> +It still wanted ten minutes to ten o'clock and the buggy had not yet +come round. He would lie down and have five minutes' rest before +starting: he had been up most of the night, and on getting home had +been kept awake by neuralgia. +</P> + +<P> +When an hour later Mary reached home, she was amazed to find groom and +buggy still drawn up in front of the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Molyneux, what's the matter? Where's the doctor?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure I don't know, Mrs. Mahony. I've hollered to Biddy half a +dozen times, but she doesn't take any notice. And the mare's that +restless.... There, there, steady old girl, steady now! It's these damn +flies." +</P> + +<P> +Mary hurried indoors. "Why, Biddy...." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure and it's yourself," said the big Irishwoman who now filled the +kitchen-billet. "Faith and though you scold me, Mrs. Mahony, I couldn't +bring it over me heart to wake him. The pore man's sleeping like a +saint." +</P> + +<P> +"Biddy, you ought to know better!" cried Mary peeling off her gloves. +</P> + +<P> +"It's pale as the dead he is." +</P> + +<P> +"Rubbish. It's only the reflection of the green blind. RICHARD! Do you +know what the time is?" +</P> + +<P> +But the first syllable of his name was enough. "Good Lord, Mary, I must +have dropped off. What the dickens.... Come, help me, wife. Why on +earth didn't those fools wake me?" +</P> + +<P> +Mary held his driving-coat, fetched hat and gloves, while he flung the +necessaries into his bag. "Have you much to do this morning? Oh, that +post-mortem's at twelve, isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; and a consultation with Munce at eleven—I'll just manage it and +no more," muttered Mahony with an eye on his watch. "I can't let the +mare take it easy this morning. Yes, a full day. And Henry Ocock's +fidgeting for a second opinion; thinks his wife's not making enough +progress. Well, ta-ta, sweetheart! Don't expect me back to lunch." And +taking a short cut across the lawn, he jumped into the buggy and off +they flew. +</P> + +<P> +Mary's thoughts were all for him in this moment. "How proud we ought to +feel!" she said to herself. "That makes the second time in a week old +Munce has sent for him. But how like Henry Ocock," she went on with +puckered brow. "It's quite insulting—after the trouble Richard has put +himself to. If Agnes's case puzzles him, I should like to know who will +understand it better. I think I'll go and see her myself this +afternoon. It can't be HER wish to call in a stranger." +</P> + +<P> +Not till some time after did she remember her own private +embarrassment. And, by then, the incident had taken its proper place in +her mind—had sunk to the level of insignificance to which it belonged. +</P> + +<P> +"Such a piece of nonsense!" was her final verdict. "As if I could worry +Richard with it, when he has so many really important things to occupy +him." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0405"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter V +</H3> + +<P> +Yes, those were palmy days; the rate at which the practice spread +astonished even himself. No slack seasons for him now; winter saw him +as busy as summer; and his chief ground for complaint was that he was +unable to devote the meticulous attention he would have wished to each +individual case. "It would need the strength of an elephant to do +that." But it was impossible not to feel gratified by the many marks of +confidence he received. And if his work had but left him some leisure +for study and an occasional holiday, he would have been content. But in +these years he was never able to get his neck out of the yoke; and Mary +took her annual jaunts to Melbourne and sea-breezes alone. +</P> + +<P> +In a long talk they had with each other, it was agreed that, except in +an emergency, he was to be chary of entering into fresh +engagements—this referred in the first place to confinements, of which +his book was always full; and secondly, to outlying bush-cases, the +journey to and from which wasted many a precious hour. And where it +would have been impolitic to refuse a new and influential patient, some +one on his list—a doubtful payer or a valetudinarian—was gently to be +let drop. And it was Mary who arranged who this should be. Some umbrage +was bound to be given in the process; but with her help it was reduced +to a minimum. For Mary knew by heart all the links and ramifications of +the houses at which he visited; knew precisely who was related to whom, +by blood or marriage or business; knew where offence might with safety +be risked, and where it would do him harm. She had also a woman's tact +in smoothing things over. A born doctor's wife, declared Mahony in +grateful acknowledgment. For himself he could not keep such fiddling +details in his head for two minutes on end. +</P> + +<P> +But though he thus succeeded in setting bounds to his activity, he +still had a great deal too much to do; and, in tired moments, or when +tic plagued him, thought the sole way out of the impasse would be to +associate some one with him as partner or assistant. And once he was +within an ace of doing so, chance throwing what he considered a likely +person across his path. In attending a coroner's inquest, he made the +acquaintance of a member of the profession who was on his way from the +Ovens district—a coach journey of well over two hundred miles—to a +place called Walwala, a day's ride to the west of Ballarat. And since +this was a pleasant-spoken man and intelligent—though with a somewhat +down-at-heel look—besides being a stranger to the town, Mahony +impulsively took him home to dinner. In the evening they sat and +talked. The visitor, whose name was Wakefield, was considerably +Mahony's senior. By his own account he had had but a rough time of it +for the past couple of years. A good practice which he had worked up in +the seaport of Warrnambool had come to an untimely end. He did not +enter into the reasons for this. "I was unfortunate ... had a piece of +ill-luck," was how he referred to it. And knowing how fatally easy was +a trip in diagnosis, a slip of the scalpel, Mahony tactfully helped him +over the allusion. From Warrnambool Wakefield had gone to the extreme +north of the colony; but the eighteen months spent there had nearly +been his undoing. Money had not come in badly; but his wife and family +had suffered from the great heat, and the scattered nature of the work +had worn him to skin and bone. He was now casting about him for a more +suitable place. He could not afford to buy a practice, must just creep +in where he found a vacancy. And Walwala, where he understood there had +never been a resident practitioner, seemed to offer an opening. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony felt genuinely sorry for the man; and after he had gone sat and +revolved the idea, in the event of Walwala proving unsuitable, of +taking Wakefield on as his assistant. He went to bed full of the scheme +and broached it to Mary before they slept. Mary made big eyes to +herself as she listened. Like a wise wife, however, she did not press +her own views that night, while the idea bubbled hot in him; for, at +such times, when some new project seemed to promise the millennium, he +stood opposition badly. But she lay awake telling off the reasons she +would put before him in the morning; and in the dark allowed herself a +tender, tickled little smile at his expense. +</P> + +<P> +"What a man he is for loading himself up with the wrong sort of +people!" she reflected. "And then afterwards, he gets tired of them, +and impatient with them—as is only natural." +</P> + +<P> +At breakfast she came back on the subject herself. In her opinion, he +ought to think the matter over very carefully. Not another doctor on +Ballarat had an assistant; and his patients would be sure to resent the +novelty. Those who sent for Dr. Mahony would not thank you to be handed +over to "goodness knows who." +</P> + +<P> +"Besides, Richard, as things are now, the money wouldn't really be +enough, would it? And just as we have begun to be a little easy +ourselves—I'm afraid you'd miss many comforts you have got used to +again, dear," she wound up, with a mental glance at the fine linen and +smooth service Richard loved. +</P> + +<P> +Yes, that was true, admitted Mahony with a sigh; and being this morning +in a stale mood, he forthwith knocked flat the card-house it had amused +him to build. Himself he had only half believed in it; or believed so +long as he refrained from going into prosaic details. There was work +for two and money for one—that was the crux of the matter. Successful +as the practice was, it still did not throw off a thousand a year. Bad +debts ran to a couple of hundred annually; and their improved style of +living—the expenses of house and garden, of horses and vehicles, the +men-servants, the open house they had to keep—swallowed every penny of +the rest. Saving was actually harder than when his income had been but +a third of what it was at present. New obligations beset him. For one +thing, he had to keep pace with his colleagues; make a show of being +just as well-to-do as they. Retrenching was out of the question. His +patients would at once imagine that something was wrong—the practice +on the downgrade, his skill deserting him—and take their ailments and +their fees elsewhere. No, the more one had, the more one was forced to +spend; and the few odd hundreds for which Henry Ocock could yearly be +counted on came in very handy. As a rule he laid these by for Mary's +benefit; for her visits to Melbourne, her bonnets and gowns. It also +let her satisfy the needs of her generous little heart in matters of +hospitality—well, it was perhaps not fair to lay the whole blame of +their incessant and lavish entertaining at her door. He himself knew +that it would not do for them to lag a foot behind other people. +</P> + +<P> +Hence the day on which he would be free to dismiss the subject of money +from his mind seemed as far off as ever. He might indulge wild schemes +of taking assistant or partner; the plain truth was, he could not +afford even the sum needed to settle in a LOCUM TENENS for three +months, while he recuperated.—Another and equally valid reason was +that the right man for a LOCUM was far to seek. As time went on, he +found himself pushed more and more into a single branch of +medicine—one, too, he had never meant to let grow over his head in +this fashion. For it was common medical knowledge out here that, given +the distances and the general lack of conveniences, thirty to forty +maternity cases per year were as much as a practitioner could with +comfort take in hand. HIS books for the past year stood at over a +hundred! The nightwork this meant was unbearable, infants showing a +perverse disinclination to enter the world except under cover of the +dark. +</P> + +<P> +His popularity—if such it could be called—with the other sex was +something of a mystery to him. For he had not one manner for the +bedside and another for daily life. He never sought to ingratiate +himself with people, or to wheedle them; still less would he stoop to +bully or intimidate; was always by preference the adviser rather than +the dictator. And men did not greatly care for this arm's-length +attitude; they wrote him down haughty and indifferent, and pinned their +faith to a blunter, homelier manner. But with women it was otherwise; +and these also appreciated the fact that, no matter what their rank in +life, their age or their looks, he met them with the deference he +believed due to their sex. Exceptions there were, of course. +Affectation or insincerity angered him—with the "Zaras" of this world +he had scant patience—while among the women themselves, some +few—Ned's wife, for example—felt resentment at his very appearance, +his gestures, his tricks of speech. But the majority were his staunch +partisans; and it was becoming more and more the custom to engage Dr. +Mahony months ahead, thus binding him fast. And though he would +sometimes give Mary a fright by vowing that he was going to "throw up +mid. and be done with it," yet her ambition—and what an ambitious wife +she was, no one but himself knew—that he should some day become one of +the leading specialists on Ballarat, seemed not unlikely of fulfilment. +If his health kept good. And ... and if he could possibly hold out! +</P> + +<P> +For there still came times when he believed that to turn his back for +ever, on place and people, would make him the happiest of mortals. For +a time this idea had left him in peace. Now it haunted him again. +Perhaps, because he had at last grasped the unpalatable truth that it +would never be his luck to save: if saving were the only key to +freedom, he would still be there, still chained fast, and though he +lived to be a hundred. Certain it was, he did not become a better +colonist as the years went on. He had learnt to hate the famous +climate—the dust and drought and brazen skies; the drenching rains and +bottomless mud—to rebel against the interminable hours he was doomed +to spend in his buggy. By nature he was a recluse—not an outdoor-man +at all. He was tired, too, of the general rampage, the promiscuous +connexions and slap-dash familiarity of colonial life; sick to death of +the all-absorbing struggle to grow richer than his neighbours. He +didn't give a straw for money in itself—only for what it brought him. +And what was the good of that, if he had no leisure to enjoy it? Or was +it the truth that he feared being dragged into the vortex? ... of +learning to care, he, too, whether or no his name topped +subscription-lists; whether his entertainments were the most sumptuous, +his wife the best-dressed woman in her set? Perish the thought! +</P> + +<P> +He did not disquiet Mary by speaking of these things. Still less did he +try to explain to her another, more elusive side of the matter. It was +this. Did he dig into himself, he saw that his uncongenial surroundings +were not alone to blame for his restless state of mind. There was in +him a gnawing desire for change as change; a distinct fear of being +pinned for too long to the same spot; or, to put it another way, a +conviction that to live on without change meant decay. For him, at +least. Of course, it was absurd to yield to feelings of this kind; at +his age, in his position, with a wife dependent on him. And so he +fought them—even while he indulged them. For this was the year in +which, casting the question of expense to the winds, he pulled down and +rebuilt his house. It came over him one morning on waking that he could +not go on in the old one for another day, so cramped was he, so +tortured by its lath-and-plaster thinness. He had difficulty in winning +Mary over; she was against the outlay, the trouble and confusion +involved; and was only reconciled by the more solid comforts and +greater conveniences offered her. For the new house was of brick, the +first brick house to be built on Ballarat (and oh the joy! said +Richard, of walls so thick that you could not hear through them), had +an extra-wide verandah which might be curtained in for parties and +dances, and a side-entrance for patients, such as Mary had often sighed +for. +</P> + +<P> +As a result of the new grandeur, more and more flocked to his door. The +present promised to be a record year even in the annals of the Golden +City. The completion of the railway-line to Melbourne was the +outstanding event. Virtually halving the distance to the metropolis in +count of time, it brought a host of fresh people capitalists, +speculators, politicians—about the town, and money grew perceptibly +easier. Letters came more quickly, too; Melbourne newspapers could be +handled almost moist from the press. One no longer had the sense of +lying shut off from the world, behind the wall of a tedious coach +journey. And the merry Ballaratians, who had never feared or shrunk +from the discomforts of this journey, now travelled constantly up and +down: attending the Melbourne race-meetings; the Government House balls +and lawn-parties; bringing back the gossip of Melbourne, together with +its fashions in dress, music and social life. +</P> + +<P> +Mary, in particular, profited by the change; for in one of those +"general posts" so frequently played by the colonial cabinet, John +Turnham had come out Minister of Railways; and she could have a "free +pass" for the asking. John paid numerous visits to his constituency; +but he was now such an important personage that his relatives hardly +saw him. As likely as not he was the guest of the Henry Ococks in their +new mansion, or of the mayor of the borough. In the past two years +Mahony had only twice exchanged a word with his brother-in-law. +</P> + +<P> +And then they met again. +</P> + +<P> +In Melbourne, at six o'clock one January morning, the Honourable John, +about to enter a saloon-compartment of the Ballarat train, paused, with +one foot on the step, and disregarding the polite remarks of the +station-master at his heels, screwed up his prominent black eyes +against the sun. At the farther end of the train, a tall, thin, +fair-whiskered man was peering disconsolately along a row of crowded +carriages. "God bless me! isn't that ... Why, so it is!" And leaving +the official standing, John walked smartly down the platform. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear Mahony!—this is indeed a surprise. I had no idea you were in +town." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not have let me know you proposed coming?" he inquired as they +made their way, the train meanwhile held up on their account, towards +John's spacious, reserved saloon. +</P> + +<P> +("What he means is, why I didn't beg a pass of him.") And Mahony, who +detested asking favours, laid exaggerated emphasis on his want of +knowledge. He had not contemplated the journey till an hour beforehand. +Then, the proposed delegate having been suddenly taken ill, he had been +urgently requested to represent the Masonic Lodge to which he belonged, +at the Installation of a new Grand Master. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, so you found it possible to get out of harness for once?" said +John affably, as they took their seats. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, by a lucky chance I had no case on hand that could not do without +me for twenty-four hours. And my engagement-book I can leave with +perfect confidence to my wife." +</P> + +<P> +"Mary is no doubt a very capable woman; I noticed that afresh, when +last she was with us," returned John; and went on to tick off Mary's +qualities like a connoisseur appraising the points of a horse. "A +misfortune that she is not blessed with any family," he added. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony stiffened; and responded dryly: "I'm not sure that I agree with +you. With all her energy and spirit Mary is none too strong." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well! these things are in the hands of Providence; we must take +what is sent us." And caressing his bare chin John gave a hearty yawn. +</P> + +<P> +The words flicked Mahony's memory: John had had an addition to his +family that winter, in the shape—to the disappointment of all +concerned—of a second daughter. He offered belated congratulations. "A +regular Turnham this time, according to Mary. But I am sorry to hear +Jane has not recovered her strength." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Jane is doing very well. But it has been a real disadvantage that +she could not nurse. The infant is ... well, ah ... perfectly formed, +of course, but small—small." +</P> + +<P> +"You must send them both to Mary, to be looked after." +</P> + +<P> +The talk then passed to John's son, now a schoolboy in Geelong; and +John admitted that the reports he received of the lad continued as +unsatisfactory as ever. "The young rascal has ability, they tell me, +but no application." John propounded various theories to account for +the boy having turned out poorly, chief among which was that he had +been left too long in the hands of women. They had overindulged him. +"Mary no more than the rest, my dear fellow," he hastened to smooth +Mahony's rising plumes. "It began with his mother in the first place. +Yes, poor Emma was weak with the boy—lamentably weak!" +</P> + +<P> +Here, with a disconcerting abruptness, he drew to him a blue linen bag +that lay on the seat, and loosening its string took out a sheaf of +official papers, in which he was soon engrossed. He had had enough of +Mahony's conversation in the meantime, or so it seemed; had thought of +something better to do, and did it. +</P> + +<P> +His brother-in-law eyed him as he read. "He's a bad colour. Been living +too high, no doubt." +</P> + +<P> +A couple of new books were on the seat by Mahony; but he did not open +them. He had a tiring day behind him, and the briefest of nights. +Besides attending the masonic ceremony, which had lasted into the small +hours, he had undertaken to make various purchases, not the least +difficult of which was the buying of a present for Mary—all the little +fal-lals that went to finish a lady's ball-dress. Railway-travelling +was, too, something of a novelty to him nowadays; and he sat idly +watching the landscape unroll, and thinking of nothing in particular. +The train was running through mile after mile of flat, treeless +country, liberally sprinkled with trapstones and clumps of tussock +grass, which at a distance could be mistaken for couched sheep. Here +and there stood a solitary she-oak, most doleful of trees, its scraggy, +pine-needle foliage bleached to grey. From the several little stations +along the line: mere three-sided sheds, which bore a printed invitation +to intending passengers to wave a flag or light a lamp, did they wish +to board the train: from these shelters long, bare, red roads, straight +as ruled lines, ran back into the heart of the burnt-up, faded country. +Now and then a moving ruddy cloud on one of them told of some vehicle +crawling its laborious way. +</P> + +<P> +When John, his memoranda digested, looked up ready to resume their +talk, he found that Mahony was fast asleep; and, since his first words, +loudly uttered, did not rouse him, he took out his case, chose a cigar, +beheaded it and puffed it alight. +</P> + +<P> +While he smoked, he studied his insensible relative. Mahony was sitting +uncomfortably hunched up; his head had fallen forward and to the side, +his mouth was open, his gloved hands lay limp on his knee. +</P> + +<P> +"H'm!" said John to himself as he gazed. And: "H'm," he repeated after +an interval.—Then pulling down his waistcoat and generally giving +himself a shake to rights, he reflected that, for his own two-and-forty +years, he was a very well preserved man indeed. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0406"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VI +</H3> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard!... and my dress is blue," said Mary distractedly, and +sitting back on her heels let her arms fall to her sides. She was on +her knees, and before her lay a cardboard box from which she had +withdrawn a pink fan, pink satin boots with stockings to match, and a +pink head-dress. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, why the dickens didn't you say so?" burst out the giver. +</P> + +<P> +"I did, dear. As plainly as I could speak." +</P> + +<P> +"Never heard a word!" +</P> + +<P> +"Because you weren't listening. I told you so at the time. Now what am +I to do?" and, in her worry over the contretemps, Mary quite forgot to +thank her husband for the trouble he had been to on her behalf. +</P> + +<P> +"Get another gown to go with them." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard... how like a man! After all the time and money this one +has cost me. No, I couldn't do that. Besides, Agnes Ocock is wearing +pink and wouldn't like it." And with a forehead full of wrinkles she +slowly began to replace the articles in their sheaths. "Of course +they're very nice," she added, as her fingers touched the delicate +textures. +</P> + +<P> +"They would need to be, considering what I paid for them. I wish now +I'd kept my money in my pocket." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, your mistake is hardly my fault, is it, dear?" But Richard had +gone off in a mood midway between self-annoyance and the huff. +</P> + +<P> +Mary's first thought was to send the articles to Jinny with a request +to exchange them for their counterparts in the proper colour. Then she +dismissed the idea. Blind slave to her nursery that Jinny was, she +would hardly be likely to give the matter her personal supervision: the +box would just be returned to the shop, and the transfer left to the +shop-people's discretion. They might even want to charge more. No, +another plan now occurred to Mary. Agnes Ocock might not yet have +secured the various small extras to go with her ball-dress; and, if +not, how nice it would be to make her a present of these. They were +finer, in better taste, than anything to be had on Ballarat; and she +had long owed Agnes some return for her many kindnesses. Herself she +would just make do with the simpler things she could buy in town. And +so, without saying anything to Richard, who would probably have +objected that Henry Ocock was well able to afford to pay for his own +wife's finery, Mary tied up the box and drove to Plevna House, on the +outer edge of Yuille's Swamp. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, I could never have got myself such beautiful things as these, +Mary," and Mrs. Henry let her hands play lovingly with the silk +stockings, her pretty face a-glow with pleasure. "Henry has no +understanding, dear, for the etceteras of a costume. He thinks, if he +pays for a dress or a mantle, that that is enough; and when the LITTLE +bills come in, he grumbles at what he calls my extravagance. I +sometimes wish, Mary, I had kept back just a teeny-weeny bit of my own +money. Henry would never have missed it, and I should have been able to +settle a small bill for myself now and then. But you know how it is at +first, love. Our one idea is to hand over all we possess to our lord +and master." She tried on the satin boots; they were a little long, but +she would stuff the toes with wadding. "If I am REALLY not robbing you, +Mary?" +</P> + +<P> +Mary reassured her, and thereupon a visit was paid to the nursery, +where Mr. Henry's son and heir lay sprawling in his cradle. Afterwards +they sat and chatted on the verandah, while a basket was being filled +with peaches for Mary to take home. +</P> + +<P> +Not even the kindly drapery of a morning-wrapper could conceal the fact +that Agnes was growing stout—quite losing her fine figure. That came +of her having given up riding-exercise. And all to please Mr. Henry. He +did not ride himself, and felt nervous or perhaps a little jealous when +his wife was on horseback. +</P> + +<P> +She was still very pretty of course—though by daylight the fine bloom +of her cheeks began to break up into a network of tiny veins—and her +fair, smooth brow bore no trace of the tragedy she has gone through. +The double tragedy; for, soon after the master of Dandaloo's death in a +Melbourne lunatic asylum, the little son of the house had died, not yet +fourteen years of age, in an Inebriate's Home. Far was it from Mary to +wish her friend to brood or repine; but to have ceased to remember as +utterly as Agnes had done had something callous about it; and, in her +own heart, Mary devoted a fresh regret to the memory of the poor little +stepchild of fate. +</P> + +<P> +The ball for which all these silken niceties were destined had been +organised to raise funds for a public monument to the two explorers, +Burke and Wills, and was to be one of the grandest ever given in +Ballarat. His Excellency the Governor would, it was hoped, be present +in person; the ladies had taken extraordinary pains with their +toilettes, and there had been the usual grumblings at expense on the +part of the husbands—though not a man but wished and privately +expected HIS wife "to take the shine out of all the rest." +</P> + +<P> +Mary had besought Richard to keep that evening free—it was her lot +always to go out to entertainments under some one else's wing—and he +had promised to do his utmost. But, a burnt child in this respect, Mary +said she would believe it when she saw it; and the trend of events +justified her scepticism. The night arrived; she was on the point of +adjusting her wreath of forget-me-nots before her candle-lit mirror, +when the dreaded summons came. Mahony had to change and hurry off, +without a moment's delay. +</P> + +<P> +"Send for Purdy. He'll see you across," he said as he banged the front +door. +</P> + +<P> +But Mary despatched the gardener at a run with a note to Tilly Ocock, +who, she knew, would make room for her in her double-seated buggy. +</P> + +<P> +Grindle got out, and Mary, her bunchy skirts held to her, took his +place at the back beside Mrs. Amelia. Tilly sat next the driver, and +talked to them over her shoulder—a great big jolly rattle of a woman, +who ruled her surroundings autocratically. +</P> + +<P> +"Lor, no—we left 'im counting eggs," she answered an inquiry on Mary's +part. "Pa's got a brood of Cochin Chinas that's the pride and glory of +'is heart. And 'e's built 'imself the neatest little place for 'em you +could meet on a summer's day: you MUST come over and admire it, my +dear—that'll please 'im, no end. It was a condition I made for 'is +going on keeping fowls. They were a perfect nuisance, all over the +garden and round the kitchen and the back, till it wasn't safe to put +your foot down anywhere—fowls ARE such messy things! At last I up and +said I wouldn't have it any longer. So then 'e and Tom set to work and +built themselves a fowl-house and a run. And there they spend their +days thinking out improvements." +</P> + +<P> +Here Tilly gave the driver a cautionary dig with her elbow; as she did +this, an under-pocket chinked ominously. "Look out now, Davy, what +you're doing with us!—Yes, that's splosh, Mary. I always bring a bag +of change with me, my dear, so that those who lose shan't have an +excuse for not paying up." Tilly was going to pass her evening, as +usual, at the card-table. "Well, I hope you two'll enjoy yourselves. +Remember now, Mrs. Grindle, if you please, that you're a married woman +and must behave yourself, and not go in for any high jinks," she teased +her prim little stepdaughter, as they dismounted from the conveyance +and stood straightening their petticoats at the entrance to the hall. +</P> + +<P> +"You know, Matilda, I do not intend to dance to-night," said Mrs Amelia +in her sedate fashion: it was as if she sampled each word before +parting with it. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I know, bless you! and know why, too. If only it's not another +false alarm! Poor old pa' so like to have a grandchild 'e was allowed +to carry round. 'E mustn'n go near Henry's, of course, for fear the kid +'ud swallow one of 'is dropped aitches and choke over it." And Tilly +threw back her head and laughed. "But you must hurry up, Mely, you +know, if you want to oblige 'im." +</P> + +<P> +"Really, Tilly!" expostulated Mary. ("She sometimes DOES go too far," +she thought to herself. "The poor little woman!") "Let us two keep +together," she said as she took Amelia's arm. "I don't intend to dance +much either, as my husband isn't here." +</P> + +<P> +But once inside the gaily decorated hall, she found it impossible to +keep her word. Even on her way to a seat beside Agnes Ocock she was +repeatedly stopped, and, when she sat down, up came first one, then +another, to "request the pleasure." She could not go on refusing +everybody: if she did, it would look as if she deliberately set out to +be peculiar—a horrible thought to Mary. Besides, many of those who +made their bow were important, influential gentlemen; for Richard's +sake she must treat them politely. +</P> + +<P> +For his sake, again, she felt pleased; rightly or wrongly she put the +many attentions shown her down to the fact of her being his wife. So +she turned and offered apologies to Agnes and Amelia, feeling at the +same time thankful that Richard had not Mr. Henry's jealous +disposition. There sat Agnes, looking as pretty as a picture, and was +afraid to dance with any one but her own husband. And he preferred to +play at cards! +</P> + +<P> +"I think, dear, you might have ventured to accept the Archdeacon for a +quadrille," she whispered behind her fan, as Agnes regretfully declined +Mr. Long. +</P> + +<P> +But Agnes shook her head. "It's better not, Mary. It saves trouble +afterwards. Henry DOESN'T care to see it." Perhaps Agnes herself, once +a passionate dancer, was growing a little too comfortable, thought +Mary, as her own programme wandered from hand to hand. +</P> + +<P> +Among the last to arrive was Purdy, red with haste, and making a great +thump with his lame leg as he crossed the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm beastly late, Polly. What have you got left for me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, really nothing, Purdy. I thought you weren't coming. But you may +put your name down here if you like," and Mary handed him her programme +with her thumb on an empty space: she generally made a point of sitting +out a dance with Purdy that he might not feel neglected; and of late +she had been especially careful not to let him notice any difference in +her treatment of him. But when he gave back the card she found that he +had scribbled his initials in all three blank lines. "Oh, you mustn't +do that. I'm saving those for Richard." +</P> + +<P> +"Our dance, I believe, Mrs. Mahony?" said a deep voice as the band +struck up "The Rat Quadrilles." And, swaying this way and that in her +flounced blue tarletan, Mary rose, put her hand within the proffered +crook, and went off with the Police Magistrate, an elderly greybeard; +went to walk or be teetotumed through the figures of the dance, with +the supremely sane unconcern that she displayed towards all the arts. +</P> + +<P> +"What odd behaviour!" murmured Mrs. Henry, following Purdy's retreating +form with her eyes. "He took no notice of us whatever. And did you see, +Amelia, how he stood and stared after Mary? Quite rudely, I thought." +</P> + +<P> +Here Mrs. Grindle was forced to express an opinion of her own—always a +trial for the nervous little woman. "I think it's because dear Mary +looks so charming to-night, Agnes," she ventured in her mouselike way. +Then moved up to make room for Archdeacon Long, who laid himself out to +entertain the ladies. +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +It was after midnight when Mahony reached home. He would rather have +gone to bed, but having promised Mary to put in an appearance, he +changed and walked down to the town. +</P> + +<P> +The ball was at its height. He skirted the rotating couples, seeking +Mary. Friends hailed him. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, well done, doctor!" +</P> + +<P> +"Still in time for a spin, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you seen my wife?" +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed and I have. Mrs. Mahony's the belle o' the ball." +</P> + +<P> +"Pleased to hear it. Where is she now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, Mahony, we've had a reg'lar dispute," cried Willie Urquhart +pressing up; he was flushed and decidedly garrulous. "Almost came to +blows we did, over whose was the finest pair o' shoulders—your wife's +or Henry O.'s. I plumped for Mrs. M., and I b'lieve she topped the +poll. By Jove! that blue gown makes 'em look just like ... what shall I +say? ... like marble." +</P> + +<P> +"Does fortune smile?" asked Mahony of Henry Ocock as he passed the +card-players: he had cut Urquhart short with a nod. "So his Excellency +didn't turn up, after all?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sent a telegraphic communication at the last moment. No, I haven't +seen her. But stay, there's Matilda wanting to speak to you, I believe." +</P> + +<P> +Tilly was making all manner of signs to attract his attention. +</P> + +<P> +"Good evening, doctor. Yes, I've a message. You'll find 'er in the +cloakroom. She's been in there for the last half-'our or so. I think +she's got the headache or something of that sort, and is waiting for +you to take 'er home." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, thank goodness, there you are, Richard!" cried Mary as he opened +the door of the cloakroom; and she rose from the bench on which she had +been sitting with her shawl wrapped round her. "I thought you'd never +come." She was pale, and looked distressed. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, what's wrong, my dear? ... feeling faint?" asked Mahony +incredulously. "If so, you had better wait for the buggy. It won't be +long now; you ordered it for two o'clock." +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, I'm not ill, I'd rather walk," said Mary breathlessly. "Only +please let us get away. And without making a fuss." +</P> + +<P> +"But what's the matter?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll tell you as we go. No, these boots won't hurt. And I can walk in +them quite well. Fetch your own things, Richard." Her one wish was to +get her husband out of the building. +</P> + +<P> +They stepped into the street; it was a hot night and very dark. In her +thin satin dancing-boots, Mary leaned heavily on Richard's arm, as they +turned off the street-pavements into the unpaved roads. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony let the lights of the main street go past; then said: "And now, +Madam Wife, you'll perhaps be good enough to enlighten me as to what +all this means?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear, I will," answered Mary obediently. But her voice trembled; +and Mahony was sharp of hearing. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Polly sweetheart ... surely nothing serious?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is. I've had a very unpleasant experience this evening, +Richard—very unpleasant indeed. I hardly know how to tell you. I feel +so upset." +</P> + +<P> +"Come—out with it!" +</P> + +<P> +In a low voice, with downcast eyes, Mary told her story. All had gone +well till about twelve o'clock: she had danced with this partner and +that, and thoroughly enjoyed herself. Then came Purdy's turn. She was +with Mrs. Long when he claimed her, and she at once suggested that they +should sit out the dance on one of the settees placed round the hall, +where they could amuse themselves by watching the dancers. But Purdy +took no notice—"He was strange in his manner from the very +beginning"—and led her into one of the little rooms that opened off +the main body of the hall. +</P> + +<P> +"And I didn't like to object. We were conspicuous enough as it was, his +foot made such a bumping noise; it was worse than ever to-night, I +thought." +</P> + +<P> +For the same reason, though she had felt uncomfortable at being hidden +away in there, she had not cared to refuse to stay: it seemed to make +too much of the thing. Besides, she hoped some other couple would join +them. But +</P> + +<P> +"But, Mary...!" broke from Mahony; he was blank and bewildered. +</P> + +<P> +Purdy, however, had got up after a moment or two and shut the door. And +then—"Oh, it's no use, Richard, I can't tell you!" said poor Mary. "I +don't know how to get the words over my lips. I think I've never felt +so ashamed in all my life." And, worn out by the worry and excitement +she had gone through, and afraid, in advance, of what she had still to +face, Mary began to cry. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony stood still; let her arm drop. "Do you mean me to understand," +he demanded, as if unable to believe his ears: "to understand that +Purdy... dared to... that he dared to behave to you in any but a—" And +since Mary was using her pocket-handkerchief and could not reply: "Good +God! Has the fellow taken leave of his senses? Is he mad? Was he drunk? +Answer me! What does it all mean?" And Mary still continuing silent, he +threw off the hand she had replaced on his arm. "Then you must walk +home alone. I'm going back to get at the truth of this." +</P> + +<P> +But Mary clung to him. "No, no, you must hear the whole story first." +Anything rather than let him return to the hall. Yes, at first she +thought he really had gone mad. "I can't tell you what I felt, Richard +... knowing it was Purdy—just Purdy. To see him like that—looking so +horrible—and to have to listen to the dreadful things he said! Yes, +I'm sure he had had too too much to drink. His breath smelt so." She +had tried to pull away her hands; but he had held her, had put his arms +round her. +</P> + +<P> +At the anger she felt racing through her husband she tightened her +grip, stringing meanwhile phrase to phrase with the sole idea of +getting him safely indoors. Not till they were shut in the bedroom did +she give the most humiliating detail of any: how, while she was still +struggling to free herself from Purdy's embrace, the door had opened +and Mr. Grindle looked in. "He drew back at once, of course. But it was +awful, Richard! I turned cold. It seemed to give me more strength, +though. I pulled myself away and got out of the room, I don't know how. +My wreath was falling off. My dress was crumpled. Nothing would have +made me go back to the ballroom. I couldn't have faced Amelia's +husband—I think I shall never be able to face him again," and Mary's +tears flowed anew. +</P> + +<P> +Richard was stamping about the room, aimlessly moving things from their +places. "God Almighty! he shall answer to me for this. I'll go back and +take a horsewhip with me." +</P> + +<P> +"For my sake, don't have a scene with him. It would only make matters +worse," she pleaded. +</P> + +<P> +But Richard strode up and down, treading heedlessly on the flouncings +of her dress. "What?—and let him believe such behaviour can go +unpunished? That whenever it pleases him, he can insult my wife—insult +my wife? Make her the talk of the place? Brand her before the whole +town as a light woman?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, not the whole town, Richard. I shall have to explain to Amelia... +and Tilly ... and Agnes—that's all," sobbed Mary in parenthesis. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and I ask if it's a dignified or decent thing for you to have to +do?—to go running round assuring your friends of your virtue!" cried +Richard furiously. "Let me tell you this, my dear: at whatever door you +knock, you'll be met by disbelief. Fate played you a shabby trick when +it allowed just that low cad to put his head in. What do you think +would be left of any woman's reputation after Grindle Esquire had pawed +it over? No, Mary, you've been rendered impossible; and you'll be made +to feel it for the rest of your days. People will point to you as the +wife who takes advantage of her husband's absence to throw herself into +another man's arms; and to me as the convenient husband who provides +the opportunity"—and Mahony groaned. In an impetuous flight of fancy +he saw his good name smirched, his practice laid waste. +</P> + +<P> +Mary lifted her head at this, and wiped her eyes. "Oh, you always paint +everything so black. People know me—know I would never, never do such +a thing." +</P> + +<P> +"Unfortunately we live among human beings, my dear, not in a community +of saints! But what does a good woman know of how a slander of this +kind clings?" +</P> + +<P> +"But if I have a perfectly clear conscience?" Mary's tone was +incredulous, even a trifle aggrieved. +</P> + +<P> +"It spells ruin all the same in a hole like this, if it once gets +about." +</P> + +<P> +"But it shan't. I'll put my pride in my pocket and go to Amelia the +first thing in the morning. I'll make it right somehow.—But I must +say, Richard, in the whole affair I don't think you feel a bit sorry +for me. Or at least only for me as your wife. The horridest part of +what happened was mine, not yours—and I think you might show a little +sympathy." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm too furious to feel sorry," replied Richard with gaunt +truthfulness, still marching up and down. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I do," said Mary with a spice of defiance. "In spite of +everything, I feel sorry that any one could so far forget himself as +Purdy did to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll be telling me next you have warmer feelings still for him!" +burst out Mahony. "Sorry for the crazy lunatic who, after all these +years, after all I've done for him and the trust I've put in him, +suddenly falls to making love to the woman who bears my name? Why, a +madhouse is the only place he's fit for." +</P> + +<P> +"There you're unjust. And wrong, too. It ... it wasn't as sudden as you +think. Purdy has been queer in his behaviour for quite a long time now." +</P> + +<P> +"What in Heaven's name do you mean by that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean what I say," said Mary staunchly, though she turned a still +deeper red. "Oh, you might just as well be angry with yourself for +being so blind and stupid." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to tell me you were aware of something?" Mahony stopped +short in his perambulations and fixed her, open-mouthed. +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't help it.—Not that there was much to know, Richard. And I +thought of coming to you about it—indeed I did. I tried to, more than +once. But you were always so busy; I hadn't the heart to worry you. For +I knew very well how upset you would be." +</P> + +<P> +"So it comes to this, does it?" said Mahony with biting emphasis. "My +wife consents to another man paying her illicit attentions behind her +husband's back!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, no, no! But I knew how fond you were of Purdy. And I always +hoped it would blow over without ... without coming to anything." +</P> + +<P> +"God forgive me!" cried Mahony passionately. "It takes a woman's brain +to house such a preposterous idea." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm not quite the fool you make me out to be, Richard. I've got +some sense in me. But it's always the same. I think of you, and you +think of no one but yourself. I only wanted to spare you. And this is +the thanks I get for it." And sitting down on the side of the bed she +wept bitterly. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you assure me, madam, that till to-night nothing I could have +objected to has ever passed between you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Richard, I won't! I won't tell you anything else. You get so angry +you don't know what you're saying. And if you can't trust me better +than that—Purdy said to-night you didn't understand me... and never +had." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, he did, did he? There we have it! Now I'll know every word the +scoundrel has ever said to you—and if I have to drag it from you by +force." +</P> + +<P> +But Mary set her lips, with an obstinacy that was something quite new +in her. It first amazed Mahony, then made him doubly angry. One word +gave another; for the first time in their married lives they +quarrelled—quarrelled hotly. And, as always at such times, many a +covert criticism a secret disapproval which neither had ever meant to +breathe to the other, slipped out and added fuel to the fire. It was +appalling to both to find on how many points they stood at variance. +</P> + +<P> +Some half hour later, leaving Mary still on the edge of the bed, still +crying, Mahony stalked grimly into the surgery and taking pen and paper +scrawled, without even sitting down to do it: +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +YOU DAMNED SCOUNDREL! IF EVER YOU SHOW YOUR FACE HERE AGAIN, I'LL +THRASH YOU TO WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR LIFE. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Then he stepped on to the verandah and crossed the lawn, carrying the +letter in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +But already his mood was on the turn: it seemed as if, in the physical +effort of putting the words to paper, his rage had spent itself. He was +conscious now of a certain limpness, both of mind and body; his fit of +passion over, he felt dulled, almost indifferent to what had happened. +Now, too, another feeling was taking possession of him, opening up +vistas of a desert emptiness that he hardly dared to face. +</P> + +<P> +But stay! ... was that not a movement in the patch of blackness under +the fig-tree? Had not something stirred there? He stopped, and strained +his eyes. No, it was only a bough that swayed in the night air. He went +out of the garden to the corner of the road and came back empty handed. +But at the same spot he hesitated, and peered. "Who's there?" he asked +sharply. And again: "Is there any one there?" But the silence remained +unbroken; and once more he saw that the shifting of a branch had misled +him. +</P> + +<P> +Mary was moving about the bedroom. He ought to go to her and ask pardon +for his violence. But he was not yet come to a stage when he felt equal +to a reconciliation; he would rest for a while, let his troubled +balance right itself. And so he lay down on the surgery sofa, and drew +a rug over him. +</P> + +<P> +He closed his eyes, but could not sleep. His thoughts raced and flew; +his brain hunted clues and connections. He found himself trying to +piece things together; to fit them in, to recollect. And every now and +then some sound outside would make him start up and listen ... and +listen. Was that not a footstep? ... the step of one who might come +feeling his way... dim-eyed with regret? There were such things in life +as momentary lapses, as ungovernable impulses—as fiery contrition ... +the anguish of remorse. And yet, once more, he sat up and listened till +his ears rang. +</P> + +<P> +Then, not the ghostly footsteps of a delusive hope, but a hard, human +crunching that made the boards of the verandah shake. Tossing off the +opossum-rug, which had grown unbearably heavy, he sprang to his feet; +was wide awake and at the window, staring sleep-charged into the dawn, +before a human hand had found the night-bell and a distracted voice +cried: +</P> + +<P> +"Does a doctor live here? A doctor, I say ...?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0407"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VII +</H3> + +<P> +The hot airless night had become the hot airless day: in the garden the +leaves on trees and shrubs drooped as under an invisible weight. All +the stale smells of the day before persisted—that of the medicaments +on the shelves, of the unwetted dust on the roads, the sickly odour of +malt from a neighbouring brewery. The blowflies buzzed about the +ceiling; on the table under the lamp a dozen or more moths lay singed +and dead. Now it was nearing six o'clock; clad in his thinnest +driving-coat, Mahony sat and watched the man who had come to fetch him +beat his horse to a lather. +</P> + +<P> +"Mercy! ... have a little mercy on the poor brute," he said more than +once. +</P> + +<P> +He had stood out for some time against obeying the summons, which +meant, at lowest, a ten-mile drive. Not if he were offered a hundred +pounds down, was his first impetuous refusal; for he had not seen the +inside of a bed that night. But at this he trapped an odd look in the +other's eyes, and suddenly became aware that he was still dressed as +for the ball. Besides, an equally impetuous answer was flung back at +him: he promised no hundred pounds, said the man—hadn't got it to +offer. He appealed solely to the doctor's humanity: it was a question +of saving a life—that of his only son. So here they were. +</P> + +<P> +"We doctors have no business with troubles of our own," thought Mahony, +as he listened to the detailed account of an ugly accident. On the roof +of a shed the boy had missed his footing, slipped and fallen some +twenty feet, landing astride a piece of quartering. Picking himself up, +he had managed to crawl home, and at first they thought he would be +able to get through the night without medical aid. But towards two +o'clock his sufferings had grown unbearable. God only knew if, by this +time, he had not succumbed to them. +</P> + +<P> +"My good man, one does not die of pain alone." +</P> + +<P> +They followed a flat, treeless road, the grass on either side of which +was burnt to hay. Buggy and harness—the latter eked out with bits of +string and an old bootlace—were coated with the dust of months; and +the gaunt, long-backed horse shuffled through a reddish flour, which +accompanied them as a choking cloud. A swarm of small black flies kept +pace with the vehicle, settling on nose, eyes, neck and hands of its +occupants, crawling over the horse's belly and in and out of its +nostrils. The animal made no effort to shake itself free, seemed +indifferent to the pests: they were only to be disturbed by the hail of +blows which the driver occasionally stood up to deliver. At such +moments Mahony, too, started out of the light doze he was continually +dropping into. +</P> + +<P> +Arrived at their destination—a miserable wooden shanty on a sheep-run +at the foot of the ranges—he found his patient tossing on a dirty bed, +with a small pulse of 120, while the right thigh was darkly bruised and +swollen. The symptoms pointed to serious internal injuries. He +performed the necessary operation. +</P> + +<P> +There was evidently no woman about the place; the coffee the father +brought him was thick as mud. On leaving, he promised to return next +day and to bring some one with him to attend to the lad. +</P> + +<P> +For the home-journey, he got a mount on a young and fidgety mare, whom +he suspected of not long having worn the saddle. In the beginning he +had his hands full with her. Then, however, she ceased her antics and +consented to advance at an easy trot. +</P> + +<P> +HOW tired he felt! He would have liked to go to bed and sleep for a +week on end. As it was, he could not reckon on even an hour's rest. By +the time he reached home the usual string of patients would await him; +and these disposed of, and a bite of breakfast snatched, out he must +set anew on his morning round. He did not feel well either: the coffee +seemed to have disagreed with him. He had a slight sense of nausea and +was giddy; the road swam before his eyes. Possibly the weather had +something to do with it; though a dull, sunless morning it was hot as +he had never known it. He took out a stud, letting the ends of his +collar fly. +</P> + +<P> +Poor little Mary, he thought inconsequently: he had hurt and frightened +her by his violence. He felt ashamed of himself now. By daylight he +could see her point of view. Mary was so tactful and resourceful that +she might safely be trusted to hush up the affair, to explain away the +equivocal position in which she had been found. After all, both of them +were known to be decent, God-fearing people. And one had only to look +at Mary to see that here was no light woman. Nobody in his senses—not +even Grindle—could think evil of that broad, transparent brow, of +those straight, kind, merry eyes. +</P> + +<P> +No, this morning his hurt was a purely personal one. That it should +just be Purdy who did him this wrong! Purdy, playmate and henchman, +ally in how many a boyish enterprise, in the hardships and adventures +of later life. "Mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did +eat of my bread!" Never had he turned a deaf ear to Purdy's needs; he +had fed him and clothed him, caring for him as for a well-loved +brother. Surely few things were harder to bear than a blow in the dark +from one who stood thus deeply in your debt, on whose gratitude you +would have staked your head. It was, of course, conceivable that he had +been swept off his feet by Mary's vivid young beauty, by +over-indulgence, by the glamour of the moment. But if a man could not +restrain his impulses where the wife of his most intimate friend was +concerned ... Another thing: as long as Mary had remained an immature +slip of a girl, Purdy had not given her a thought. When, however, under +her husband's wing she had blossomed out into a lovely womanhood, of +which any man might be proud, then she had found favour in his eyes. +And the slight this put on Mary's sterling moral qualities, on all but +her physical charms, left the worst taste of any in the mouth. +</P> + +<P> +Then, not content with trying to steal her love, Purdy had also sought +to poison her mind against him. How that rankled! For until now he had +hugged the belief that Purdy's opinion of him was coloured by affection +and respect, by the tradition of years. Whereas, from what Mary had let +fall, he saw that the boy must have been sitting in judgment on him, +regarding his peculiarities with an unloving eye, picking his motives +to pieces: it was like seeing the child of your loins, of your hopes, +your unsleeping care, turn and rend you with black ingratitude. Yes, +everything went to prove Purdy's unworthiness. Only HE had not seen it, +only he had been blind to the truth. And wrapped in this smug blindness +he had given his false friend the run of his home, setting, after the +custom of the country, no veto on his eternal presence. Disloyalty was +certainly abetted by just the extravagant, exaggerated hospitality of +colonial life. Never must the doors of your house be shut; all you had +you were expected to share with any sundowner of fortune who chanced to +stop at your gate. +</P> + +<P> +The mare shied with a suddenness that almost unseated him: the next +moment she had the bit between her teeth and was galloping down the +road. Clomp-clomp-clomp went her hoofs on the baked clay; the dust +smothered and stung, and he was holding for all he was worth to reins +spanned stiff as iron. On they flew; his body hammered the saddle; his +breath came sobbingly. But he kept his seat; and a couple of miles +farther on he was down, soothing the wild-eyed, quivering, sweating +beast, whose nostrils worked like a pair of bellows. There he stood, +glancing now back along the road, now up at the sky. His hat had gone +flying at the first unexpected plunge; he ought to return and look for +it. But he shrank from the additional fatigue, the delay in reaching +home this would mean. The sky was still overcast: he decided to risk +it. Knotting his handkerchief he spread it cap-wise over his head and +got back into the saddle. +</P> + +<P> +Mine own familiar friend! And more than that: he could add to David's +plaint and say, my only friend. In Purdy the one person he had been +intimate with passed out of his life. There was nobody to take the +vacant place. He had been far too busy of late years to form new +friendships: what was left of him after the day's work was done was but +a kind of shell: the work was the meaty contents. As you neared the +forties, too, it grew ever harder to fit yourself to other people: your +outlook had become too set, your ideas too unfluid. Hence you clung the +faster to ties formed in the old, golden days, worn though these might +be to the thinness of a hair. And then, there was one's wife, of +course—one's dear, good wife. But just her very dearness and goodness +served to hold possible intimates at arm's length. The knowledge that +you had such a confidante, that all your thoughts were shared with her, +struck disastrously at a free exchange of privacies. No, he was alone. +He had not so much as a dog now, to follow at heel and look up at him +with the melancholy eyes of its race. Old Pompey had come at poison, +and Mary had not wished to have a strange dog in the new house. She did +not care for animals, and the main charge of it would have fallen on +her. He had no time—no time even for a dog! +</P> + +<P> +Better it would assuredly be to have some one to fall back on: it was +not good for a man to stand so alone. Did troubles come, they would +strike doubly hard because of it; then was the time to rejoice in a +warm, human handclasp. And moodily pondering the reasons for his +solitariness, he was once more inclined to lay a share of the blame on +the conditions of the life. The population of the place was still in a +state of flux: he and a mere handful of others would soon, he believed, +be the oldest residents in Ballarat. People came and went, tried their +luck, failed, and flitted off again, much as in the early days. What +was the use of troubling to become better acquainted with a person, +when, just as you began really to know him, he was up and away? At +home, in the old country, a man as often as not died in the place where +he was born; and the slow, eventless years, spent shoulder to shoulder, +automatically brought about a kind of intimacy. But this was only a +surface reason: there was another that went deeper. He had no talent +for friendship, and he knew it; indeed, he would even invert the thing, +and say bluntly that his nature had a twist in it which directly +hindered friendship; and this, though there came moments when he +longed, as your popular mortal never did, for close companionship. +Sometimes he felt like a hungry man looking on at a banquet, of which +no one invited him to partake, because he had already given it to be +understood that he would decline. But such lapses were few. On nine +days out of ten, he did not feel the need of either making or receiving +confidences; he shrank rather, with a peculiar shy dread, from personal +unbosomings. Some imp housed in him—some wayward, wilful, mocking +Irish devil—bidding him hold back, remain cool, dry-eyed, in face of +others' joys and pains. Hence the break with Purdy was a real calamity. +The associations of some five-and-twenty years were bound up in it; +measured by it, one's marriage seemed a thing of yesterday. And even +more than the friend, he would miss the friendship and all it stood +for: this solid base of joint experience; this past of common memories +into which one could dip as into a well; this handle of "Do you +remember?" which opened the door to such a wealth of anecdote. From now +on, the better part of his life would be a closed book to any but +himself; there were allusions, jests without number, homely turns of +speech, which not a soul but himself would understand. The thought of +it made him feel old and empty; affected him like the news of a +death.—But MUST it be? Was there no other way out? Slow to take hold, +he was a hundred times slower to let go. Before now he had seen himself +sticking by a person through misunderstandings, ingratitude, deception, +to the blank wonder of the onlookers. Would he not be ready here, too, +to forgive ... to forget? +</P> + +<P> +But he felt hot, hot to suffocation, and his heart was pounding in +uncomfortable fashion. The idea of stripping and plunging into ice-cold +water began to make a delicious appeal to him. Nothing surpassed such a +plunge after a broken night. But of late he had had to be wary of +indulging: a bath of this kind, taken when he was over-tired, was apt +to set the accursed tic a-going; and then he could pace the floor in +agony. And yet... Good God, how hot it was! His head ached +distractedly; an iron band of pain seemed to encircle it. With a sudden +start of alarm he noticed that he had ceased to perspire—now he came +to think of it, not even the wild gallop had induced perspiration. +Pulling up short, he fingered his pulse. It was abnormal, even for him +... and feeble. Was it fancy, or did he really find a difficulty in +breathing? He tore off his collar, threw open the neck of his shirt. He +had a sensation as if all the blood in his body was flying to his head: +his face must certainly be crimson. He put both hands to this top-heavy +head, to support it; and in a blind fit of vertigo all but lost his +balance in the saddle: the trees spun round, the distance went black. +For a second still he kept upright; then he flopped to the ground, +falling face downwards, his arms huddled under him. +</P> + +<P> +The mare, all her spirit gone, stood lamb-like and waited. As he did +not stir she turned and sniffed at him, curiously. Still he lay prone, +and, having stretched her tired jaws, she raised her head and uttered a +whinny—an almost human cry of distress. This, too, failing in its +effect, she nosed the ground for a few yards, then set out at a gentle, +mane-shaking trot for home. +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +Found, a dark conspicuous heap on the long bare road, and carted back +to town by a passing bullock-waggon, Mahony lay, once the death-like +coma had yielded, and tossed in fever and delirium. By piecing his +broken utterances together Mary learned all she needed to know about +the case he had gone out to attend, and his desperate ride home. But it +was Purdy's name that was oftenest on his lips; it was Purdy he reviled +and implored; and when he sprang up with the idea of calling his false +friend to account, it was as much as she could do to restrain him. +</P> + +<P> +She had the best of advice. Old Dr. Munce himself came two and three +times a day. Mary had always thought him a dear old man; and she felt +surer than ever of it when he stood patting her hand and bidding her +keep a good heart; for they would certainly pull her husband through. +</P> + +<P> +"There aren't so many of his kind here, Mrs. Mahony, that we can afford +to lose him." +</P> + +<P> +But altogether she had never known till now how many and how faithful +their friends were. Hardly, for instance, had Richard been carried in, +stiff as a log and grey as death, when good Mrs. Devine was fumbling +with the latch of the gate, an old sunbonnet perched crooked on her +head: she had run down just as she was, in the midst of shelling peas +for dinner. She begged to be allowed to help with the nursing. But Mary +felt bound to refuse. She knew how the thought of what he might have +said in his delirium would worry Richard, when he recovered his senses: +few men laid such weight as he on keeping their private thoughts +private. +</P> + +<P> +Not to be done, Mrs. Devine installed herself in the kitchen to +superintend the cooking. Less for the patient, into whom at first only +liquid nourishment could be injected, than: "To see as your own +strength is kep' up, dearie." Tilly swooped down and bore off Trotty. +Delicate fruits, new-laid eggs, jellies and wines came from Agnes +Ocock; while Amelia Grindle, who had no such dainties to offer arrived +every day at three o'clock, to mind the house while Mary slept. +Archdeacon Long was also a frequent visitor, bringing not so much +spiritual as physical aid; for, as the frenzy reached its height and +Richard was maddened by the idea that a plot was brewing against his +life, a pair of strong arms were needed to hold him down. Over and +above this, letters of sympathy flowed in; grateful patients called to +ask with tears in their eyes how the doctor did; virtual strangers +stopped the servant in the street with the same query. Mary was +sometimes quite overwhelmed by the kindness people showed her. +</P> + +<P> +The days that preceded the crisis were days of keenest anxiety. But +Mary never allowed her heart to fail her. For if, in the small things +of life, she was given to building on a mortal's good sense, how much +more could she rely at such a pass on the sense of the One above all +others. What she said to herself as she moved tirelessly about the sick +room, damping cloths, filling the ice-bag, infiltering drops of +nourishment, was: "God is good!" and these words, far from breathing a +pious resignation, voiced a confidence so bold that it bordered on +irreverence. Their real meaning was: Richard has still ever so much +work to do in the world, curing sick people and saving their lives. God +must know this, and cannot now mean to be so foolish as to WASTE him, +by letting him die. +</P> + +<P> +And her reliance on the Almighty's far-sighted wisdom was justified. +Richard weathered the crisis, slowly revived to life and health; and +the day came when, laying a thin white hand on hers, he could whisper: +"My poor little wife, what a fright I must have given you!" And added: +"I think an illness of some kind was due—overdue—with me." +</P> + +<P> +When he was well enough to bear the journey they left home for a +watering-place on the Bay. There, on an open beach facing the Heads, +Mahony lay with his hat pulled forward to shade his eyes, and with +nothing to do but to scoop up handfuls of the fine coral sand and let +it flow again, like liquid silk, through his fingers. From beneath the +brim he watched the water churn and froth on the brown reefs; followed +the sailing-ships which, beginning as mere dots on the horizon, swelled +to stately white waterbirds, and shrivelled again to dots; drank in, +with greedy nostrils, the mixed spice of warm sea, hot seaweed and +aromatic tea-scrub. +</P> + +<P> +And his strength came back as rapidly as usual. He soon felt well +enough, leaning on Mary's arm, to stroll up and down the sandy roads of +the township; to open book and newspaper; and finally to descend the +cliffs for a dip in the transparent, turquoise sea. At the end of a +month he was at home again, sunburnt and hearty, eager to pick up the +threads he had let fall. And soon Mary was able to make the comfortable +reflection that everything was going on just as before. +</P> + +<P> +In this, however, she was wrong; never, in their united lives, would +things be quite the same again. Outwardly, the changes might pass +unnoticed—though even here, it was true, a certain name had now to be +avoided, with which they had formerly made free. But this was not +exactly hard to do, Purdy having promptly disappeared: they heard at +second-hand that he had at last accepted promotion and gone to +Melbourne. And since Mary had suffered no inconvenience from his +thoughtless conduct, they tacitly agreed to let the matter rest. That +was on the surface. Inwardly, the differences were more marked. Even in +the mental attitude they adopted towards what had happened, husband and +wife were thoroughly dissimilar. Mary did not refer to it because she +thought it would be foolish to re-open so disagreeable a subject. In +her own mind, however, she faced it frankly, dating back to it as the +night when Purdy had been so odious and Richard so angry. Mahony, on +the other hand, gave the affair a wide berth even in thought. For him +it was a kind of Pandora's box, of which, having once caught a glimpse +of the contents, he did not again dare to raise the lid. Things might +escape from it that would alter his whole life. But he, too, dated from +it in the sense of suddenly becoming aware, with a throb of regret, +that he had left his youth behind him. And such phrases as: "When I was +young," "In my younger days," now fell instinctively from his lips. +</P> + +<P> +Nor was this all. Deep down in Mary's soul there slumbered a slight +embarrassment; one she could not get the better of: it spread and grew. +This was a faint, ever so faint a doubt of Richard's wisdom. Odd she +had long known him to be, different in many small and some great ways +from those they lived amongst; but hitherto this very oddness of his +had seemed to her an outgrowth on the side of superiority—fairer +judgment, higher motives. Just as she had always looked up to him as +rectitude in person, so she had thought him the embodiment of a fine, +though somewhat unworldly wisdom. Now her faith in his discernment was +shaken. His treatment of her on the night of the ball had shocked, +confused her. She was ready to make allowance for him: she had told her +story clumsily, and had afterwards been both cross and obstinate; while +part of his violence was certainly to be ascribed to his coming +breakdown. But this did not cover everything; and the ungenerous spirit +in which he had met her frankness, his doubt of her word, of her good +faith—his utter unreasonableness in short—had left a cold patch of +astonishment in her, which would not yield. She lit on it at unexpected +moments. Meanwhile, she groped for an epithet that would fit his +behaviour. Beginning with some rather vague and high-flown terms she +gradually came down, until with the sense of having found the right +thing at last, she fixed on the adjective "silly"—a word which, for +the rest, was in common use with Mary, had she to describe anything +that struck her as queer or extravagant. And sitting over her +fancywork, into which, being what Richard called "safe as the grave," +she sewed more thoughts than most women: sitting thus, she would say to +herself with a half smile and an incredulous shake of the head: "SO +silly!" +</P> + +<P> +But hers was one of those inconvenient natures which trust blindly or +not at all: once worked on by a doubt or a suspicion, they are never +able to shake themselves free of it again. As time went on, she +suffered strange uncertainties where some of Richard's decisions were +concerned. In his good intentions she retained an implicit belief; but +she was not always satisfied that he acted in the wisest way. +Occasionally it struck her that he did not see as clearly as she did; +at other times, that he let a passing whim run away with him and +override his common sense. And, her eyes thus opened, it was not in +Mary to stand dumbly by and watch him make what she held to be +mistakes. Openly to interfere, however, would also have gone against +the grain in her; she had bowed for too long to his greater age and +experience. So, seeing no other way out, she fell back on indirect +methods. To her regret. For, in watching other women "manage" their +husbands, she had felt proud to think that nothing of this kind was +necessary between Richard and her. Now she, too, began to lay little +schemes by which, without his being aware of it, she might influence +his judgment, divert or modify his plans. +</P> + +<P> +Her enforced use of such tactics did not lessen the admiring affection +she bore him: that was framed to withstand harder tests. Indeed, she +was even aware of an added tenderness towards him, now she saw that it +behoved her to have forethought for them both. But into the wife's love +for her husband there crept something of a mother's love for her child; +for a wayward and impulsive, yet gifted creature, whose welfare and +happiness depended on her alone. And it is open to question whether the +mother dormant in Mary did not fall with a kind of hungry joy on this +late-found task. The work of her hands done, she had known empty hours. +That was over now. With quickened faculties, all her senses on the +alert, she watched, guided, hindered, foresaw. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0408"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VIII +</H3> + +<P> +Old Ocock failed in health that winter. He was really old now, was two +or three and sixty; and, with the oncoming of the rains and cold, gusty +winds, various infirmities began to plague him. +</P> + +<P> +"He's done himself rather too well since his marriage," said Mahony in +private. "After being a worker for the greater part of his life, it +would have been better for him to work on to the end." +</P> + +<P> +Yes, that, Mary could understand and agree with. But Richard continued: +"All it means, of course, is that the poor fellow is beginning to +prepare for his last long journey. These aches and pains of his +represent the packing and the strapping without which not even a short +earthly journey can be undertaken. And his is into eternity." +</P> + +<P> +Mary, making lace over a pillow, looked up at this, a trifle +apprehensively. "What things you do say! If any one heard you, they'd +think you weren't very... very religious." Her fear lest Richard's +outspokenness should be mistaken for impiety never left her. +</P> + +<P> +Tilly was plain and to the point. "Like a bear with a sore back that's +what 'e is, since 'e can't get down among his blessed birds. He leads +Tom the life of the condemned, over the feeding of those bantams. As if +the boy could help 'em not laying when they ought!" +</P> + +<P> +At thirty-six Tilly was the image of her mother. Entirely gone was the +slight crust of acerbity that had threatened her in her maiden days, +when, thanks to her misplaced affections, it had seemed for a time as +if the purple prizes of life—love, offers of marriage, a home of her +own—were going to pass her by. She was now a stout, high-coloured +woman with a roar of a laugh, full, yet firm lips, and the whitest of +teeth. Mary thought her decidedly toned down and improved since her +marriage; but Mahony put it that the means Tilly now had at her +disposal were such as to make people shut an eye to her want of +refinement. However that might be, "old Mrs. Ocock" was welcomed +everywhere—even by those on whom her bouncing manners grated. She was +invariably clad in a thick and handsome black silk gown, over which she +wore all the jewellery she could crowd on her person—huge cameo +brooches, ear-drops, rings and bracelets, lockets and chains. Her name +topped subscription-lists, and, having early weaned her old husband of +his dissenting habits, she was a real prop to Archdeacon Long and his +church, taking the chief and most expensive table at tea-meetings, the +most thankless stall at bazaars. She kept open house, too, and gave +delightful parties, where, while some sat at loo, others were free to +turn the rooms upside-down for a dance, or to ransack wardrobes and +presses for costumes for charades. She drove herself and her friends +about in various vehicles, briskly and well, and indulged besides in +many secret charities. Her husband thought no such woman had ever +trodden the earth, and publicly blessed the day on which he first set +eyes on her. +</P> + +<P> +"After the dose I'd 'ad with me first, 'twas a bit of a risk, that I +knew. And it put me off me sleep for a night or two before'and. But my +Tilly's the queen o' women—I say the queen, sir! I've never 'ad a +wrong word from 'er, an' when I go she gits every penny I've got. Why, +I'm jiggered if she didn't stop at 'ome from the Races t'other day, an' +all on my account!" +</P> + +<P> +"Now then, pa, drop it. Or the doctor'll think you've been mixing your +liquors. Give your old pin here and let me poultice it." +</P> + +<P> +He had another sound reason for gratitude. Somewhere in the background +of his house dwelt his two ne'er-do-well sons; Tilly had accepted their +presence uncomplainingly. Indeed she sometimes stood up for Tom, +against his father. "Now, pa, stop nagging at the boy, will you? You'll +never get anything out of 'im that way. Tom's right enough if you know +how to take him. He'll never set the Thames on fire, if that's what you +mean. But I'm thankful, I can tell you, to have a handy chap like him +at my back. If I 'ad to depend on your silly old paws, I'd never get +anything done at all." +</P> + +<P> +And so Tom, a flaxen-haired, sheepish-looking man of something over +thirty, led a kind of go-as-you-please existence about the place, a +jack-of-all-trades—in turn carpenter, whitewasher, paper-hanger—an +expert fetcher and carrier, bullied by his father, sheltered under his +stepmother's capacious wing. "It isn't his fault 'e's never come to +anything. 'E hadn't half a chance. The truth is, Mary, for all they say +to the opposite, men are harder than women—so unforgiving-like. Just +because Tom made a slip once, they've never let 'im forget it, but tied +it to 'is coat-tails for 'im to drag with 'im through life. +Littleminded I call it.—Besides, if you ask me, my dear, it must have +been a case of six of one and half a dozen of the other. Tom as +sedoocer!—can you picture it, Mary? It's enough to make one split." +And with a meaning glance at her friend, Tilly broke out in a +contagious peal of laughter. +</P> + +<P> +As for Johnny—well ... and she shrugged her shoulders. "A bad egg's +bad, Mary, and no amount o' cooking and doctoring 'll sweeten it. But +he didn't make 'imself, did 'e?—and my opinion is, parents should look +to themselves a bit more than they do." +</P> + +<P> +As she spoke, she threw open the door of the little room where Johnny +housed. It was an odd place. The walls were plastered over with +newspaper-cuttings, with old prints from illustrated journals, with +snippets torn off valentines and keepsakes. Stuck one on another, these +formed a kind of loose wallpaper, which stirred in the draught. Tilly +went on: "I see myself to it being kept cleanish; 'e hates the girl to +come bothering round. Oh, just Johnny's rubbish!" For Mary had stooped +curiously to the table which was littered with a queer collection of +objects: matchboxes on wheels; empty reels of cotton threaded on +strings; bits of wood shaped in rounds and squares; boxes made of +paper; dried seaweed glued in patterns on strips of cardboard. "He's +for ever pottering about with 'em. What amusement 'e gets out of it, +only the Lord can tell." +</P> + +<P> +She did not mention the fact, known to Mary, that when Johnny had a +drinking-bout it was she who looked after him, got him comfortably to +bed, and made shift to keep the noise from his father's ears. Yes, +Tilly's charity seemed sheerly inexhaustible. +</P> + +<P> +Again, there was the case of Jinny's children. +</P> + +<P> +For in this particular winter Tilly had exchanged her black silk for a +stuff gown, heavily trimmed with crepe. She was in mourning for poor +Jinny, who had died not long after giving birth to a third daughter. +</P> + +<P> +"Died OF the daughter, in more senses than one," was Tilly's verdict. +</P> + +<P> +John had certainly been extremely put out at the advent of yet another +girl; and the probability was that Jinny had taken his reproaches too +much to heart. However it was, she could not rally; and one day Mary +received a telegram saying that if she wished to see Jinny alive, she +must come at once. No mention was made of Tilly, but Mary ran to her +with the news, and Tilly declared her intention of going, too. "I +suppose I may be allowed to say good-bye to my own sister, even though +I'm not a Honourable?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not that Jinn and I ever really drew together," she continued as the +train bore them over the ranges. "She'd too much of poor pa in 'er. And +I was all ma. Hard luck that it must just be her who managed to get +such a domineering brute for a husband. You'll excuse me, Mary, won't +you?—a domineering brute!" +</P> + +<P> +"And to think I once envied her the match!" she went on meditatively, +removing her bonnet and substituting a kind of nightcap intended to +keep her hair free from dust. "Lauks, Mary, it's a good thing fate +doesn't always take us at our word. We don't know which side our +bread's buttered on, and that's the truth. Why, my dear, I wouldn't +exchange my old boy for all the Honourables in creation!" +</P> + +<P> +They were in time to take leave of Jinny lying white as her pillows +behind the red rep hangings of the bed. The bony parts of her face had +sprung into prominence, her large soft eyes fallen in. John, stalking +solemnly and noiselessly in a long black coat, himself led the two +women to the bedroom, where he left them; they sat down one on each +side of the great fourposter. Jinny hardly glanced at her sister: it +was Mary she wanted, Mary's hand she fumbled for while she told her +trouble. "It's the children, Mary," she whispered. "I can't die happy +because of the children. John doesn't understand them." Jinny's whole +existence was bound up in the three little ones she had brought into +the world. +</P> + +<P> +"Dearest Jinny, don't fret. I'll look after them for you, and take care +of them," promised Mary wiping away her tears. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought so," said the dying woman, relieved, but without gratitude: +it seemed but natural to her, who was called upon to give up +everything, that those remaining should make sacrifices. Her fingers +plucked at the sheet. "John's been good to me," she went on, with +closed eyes. "But... if it 'adn't been for the children ... yes, the +children.... I think I'd 'a' done better—" her speech lapsed oddly, +after her years of patient practice—"to 'ave taken ... to 'a' +taken"—the name remained unspoken. +</P> + +<P> +Tilly raised astonished eyebrows at Mary. "Wandering!" she telegraphed +in lip-language, forming the word very largely and distinctly; for +neither knew of Jinny having had any but her one glorious chance. +</P> + +<P> +Tilly's big heart yearned over her sister's forlorn little ones; they +could be heard bleating like lambs for the mother to whom till now they +had never cried in vain. Her instant idea was to gather all three up in +her arms and carry them off to her own roomy, childless home, where she +would have given them a delightful, though not maybe a particularly +discriminating upbringing. But the funeral over, the blinds raised, the +two ladies and the elder babes clad in the stiff, expensive mourning +that befitted the widower's social position, John put his foot down: +and to Mary was extremely explicit: "Under no circumstances will I +permit Matilda to have anything to do with the rearing of my children +excellent creature though she be!" +</P> + +<P> +On the other hand, he would not have been unwilling for Mary to mother +them. This, of course, was out of the question: Richard had accustomed +himself to Trotty, but would thank you, she knew, for any fresh +encroachment on his privacy. Before leaving, however, she promised to +sound him on the plan of placing Trotty as a weekly boarder at a Young +Ladies' Seminary, and taking the infant in her place. For it came out +that John intended to set Zara—Zara, but newly returned from a second +voyage to England and still sipping like a bee at the sweets of various +situations—at the head of his house once more. And Mary could not +imagine Zara rearing a baby. +</P> + +<P> +Equally hard was it to understand John not having learnt wisdom from +his two previous failures to live with his sister. But, in seeking +tactfully to revive his memory, she ran up against such an ingrained +belief in the superiority of his own kith and kin that she was baffled, +and could only fold her hands and hope for the best. +</P> + +<P> +"Besides, Jane's children are infinitely more tractable than poor +Emma's," was John's parting shot.—Strange, thought Mary, how attached +John was to his second family. +</P> + +<P> +He had still another request to make of her. The reports he received of +the boy Johnny, now a pupil at the Geelong Grammar School, grew worse +from term to term. It had become clear to him that he was unfortunate +enough to possess an out-and-out dullard for a son. Regretfully giving +up, therefore, the design he had cherished of educating Johnny for the +law, he had resolved to waste no more good money on the boy, but to +take him, once he was turned fifteen, into his own business. Young +John, however, had proved refractory, expressing a violent antipathy to +the idea of office-life. "It is here that I should be glad of another +opinion—and I turn to you, Mary, my dear. Jane was of no use whatever +in such matters, none whatever, being, and very properly so, entirely +wrapped up in her own children." So Mary arranged to break her homeward +journey at Geelong, for the purpose of seeing and summing up her nephew. +</P> + +<P> +Johnny—he was Jack at school, but that, of course, his tomfools of +relations couldn't be expected to remember—Johnny was waiting on the +platform when the train steamed in. "Oh, what a bonny boy!" said Mary +to herself. "All poor Emma's good looks." +</P> + +<P> +Johnny had been kicking his heels disconsolately: another of these +wretched old women coming down to jaw him! He wished every one of them +at the bottom of the sea. However he pulled himself together and went +forward to greet his aunt: he was not in the least bashful. And as they +left the station he took stock of her, out of the tail of his eye. With +a growing approval: this one at any rate he needn't feel ashamed of; +and she was not so dreadfully old after all. Perhaps she mightn't turn +out quite such a wet blanket as the rest; though, from experience, he +couldn't connect any pleasure with relatives' visits: they were nasty +pills that had to be swallowed. He feared and disliked his father; Aunt +Zara had been sheerly ridiculous, with her frills and simpers—the boys +had imitated her for weeks after—and once, most shameful of all, his +stepmother had come down and publicly wept over him. His cheeks still +burnt at the remembrance; and he had been glad to hear that she was +dead: served her jolly well right! But this Aunt Mary seemed a horse of +another colour; and he did not sneak her into town by a back way, as he +had planned to do before seeing her. +</P> + +<P> +Greatly as Mary might admire the tall fair lad by her side, she found +herself at a loss how to deal with him, the mind of a schoolboy of +thirteen being a closed book to her. Johnny looked demure and answered +"Yes, Aunt Mary," to everything she said; but this was of small +assistance in getting at the real boy inside. +</P> + +<P> +Johnny had no intention, in the beginning, of taking her into his +often-betrayed and badly bruised confidence. However a happy instinct +led her to suggest a visit to a shop that sold brandy-snaps and +gingerbeer; and this was too much for his strength of mind. Golly, +didn't he have a tuck-in! And a whole pound of bull's-eyes to take back +with him to school! +</P> + +<P> +It was over the snaps, with an earth-brown moustache drawn round his +fresh young mouth, the underlip of which swelled like a ripe cherry, +that he blurted out: "I say, Aunt Mary, DON'T let the pater stick me in +that beastly old office of his. I ... I want to go to sea." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but Johnny! Your father would never consent to that, I'm sure." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see why not," returned the boy in an aggrieved voice. "I hate +figures and father knows it. I tell you I mean to go to sea." And as he +said it his lip shot out, and suddenly, for all his limpid blue eyes +and flaxen hair, it was his father's face that confronted Mary. +</P> + +<P> +"He wouldn't think it respectable enough, dear. He wants you to rise +higher in the world, and to make money. You must remember who he is." +</P> + +<P> +"Bosh!" said Johnny. "Look at Uncle Ned ... and Uncle Jerry ... and the +governor himself. He didn't have to sit in a beastly old hole of an +office when he was my age." +</P> + +<P> +"That was quite different," said Mary weakly. "And as for your Uncle +Jerry, Johnny—why, afterwards he was as glad as could be to get into +an office at all." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'd sooner be hanged!" retorted young John. But the next minute +flinging away dull care, he inquired briskly: "Can you play tipcat, +Aunt Mary?" And vanquished by her air of kindly interest, he gave her +his supreme confidence. "I say, don't peach, will you, but I've got a +white rat. I keep it in a locker under my bed." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +A NICE FRANK HANDSOME BOY, wrote Mary. DON'T BE TOO HARD ON HIM, JOHN. +HIS GREAT WISH IS TO TRAVEL AND SEE THE WORLD—OR AS HE PUTS IT, TO GO +TO SEA. MIGHTN'T IT BE A GOOD THING TO HUMOUR HIM IN THIS? A TASTE OF +THE HARDSHIPS OF LIFE WOULD SOON CURE HIM OF ANY SUCH FANCIES. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Stuff and nonsense!" said John the father, and threw the letter from +him. "I didn't send Mary there to let the young devil get round her +like that." And thereupon he wrote to the Headmaster that the screw was +to be applied to Johnny as never before. This was his last chance. If +it failed, and his next report showed no improvement, he would be taken +away without further ado and planked down under his father's nose. No +son of his should go to sea, he was damned if they should! For, like +many another who has yielded to the wandering passion in his youth, +John had small mercy on it when it reared its head in his descendants. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0409"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter IX +</H3> + +<P> +Henry Ocock was pressing for a second opinion; his wife had been in +poor health since the birth of her last child. Mahony drove to Plevna +House one morning between nine and ten o'clock. +</P> + +<P> +A thankless task lay before him. Mrs. Henry's case had been a fruitful +source of worry to him; and he now saw nothing for it but a straight +talk with Henry himself. +</P> + +<P> +He drove past what had once been the Great Swamp. From a bed of +cattle-ploughed mud interspersed with reedy water-holes; in summer a +dry and dust-swept hollow: from this, the vast natural depression had +been transformed into a graceful lake, some three hundred acres in +extent. On its surface pleasure boats lay at their moorings by jetties +and boatsheds; groups of stiff-necked swans sailed or ducked and +straddled; while shady walks followed the banks, where the whiplike +branches of the willows, showing shoots of tenderest green, trailed in +the water or swayed like loose harp-strings to the breeze. +</P> + +<P> +All the houses that had sprung up round Lake Wendouree had well-stocked +spreading grounds; but Ocock's outdid the rest. The groom opening a +pair of decorative iron gates which were the showpiece of the +neighbourhood, Mahony turned in and drove past exotic firs, Moreton Bay +fig-trees and araucarias; past cherished English hollies growing side +by side with giant cacti. In one corner stood a rockery, where a +fountain played and goldfish swam in a basin. The house itself, of +brick and two-storeyed, with massive bay-windows, had an ornamental +verandah on one side. The drawing-room was a medley of gilt and +lustres, mirrors and glass shades; the finest objects from Dandaloo had +been brought here, only to be outdone by Henry's own additions. Yes, +Ocock lived in grand style nowadays, as befitted one of the most +important men in the town. His old father once gone—and Mahony alone +knew why the latter's existence acted as a drag—he would no doubt +stand for Parliament. +</P> + +<P> +Invited to walk into the breakfast-room, Mahony there found the family +seated at table. It was a charming scene. Behind the urn Mrs. Henry, in +be-ribboned cap and morning wrapper, dandled her infant; while Henry, +in oriental gown and Turkish fez, had laid his newspaper by to ride his +young son on his foot. Mahony refused tea or coffee; but could not +avoid drawing up a chair, touching the peachy cheeks of the children +held aloft for his inspection, and meeting a fire of playful sallies +and kindly inquiries. As he did so, he was sensitively aware that it +fell to him to break up the peace of this household. Only he knew the +canker that had begun to eat at its roots. +</P> + +<P> +The children borne off, Mrs. Henry interrogated her husband's pleasure +with a pretty: "May I?" or "Should I?" lift of the brows; and gathering +that he wished her to retire, laid her small, plump hand in Mahony's, +sent a graceful message to "dearest Mary," and swept the folds of her +gown from the room. Henry followed her with a well-pleased eye—his +opinion was no secret that, in figure and bearing, his wife bore a +marked resemblance to her Majesty the Queen—and admonished her not to +fail to partake of some light refreshment during the morning, in the +shape of a glass of sherry and a biscuit. "Unless, my love, you prefer +me to order cook to whip you up an egg-nog.—Mrs. Ocock is, I regret to +say, entirely without appetite again," he went on, as the door closed +behind his wife. "What she eats is not enough to keep a sparrow going. +You must prove your skill, doctor, and oblige us by prescribing a still +more powerful tonic or appetiser. The last had no effect whatever." He +spoke from the hearthrug, where he had gone to warm his skirts at the +wood fire, audibly fingering the while a nest of sovereigns in a +waistcoat pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"I feared as much," said Mahony gravely; and therewith took the plunge. +</P> + +<P> +When some twenty minutes later he emerged from the house, he was +unaccompanied, and himself pulled the front door to behind him. He +stood frowning heavily as he snapped the catches of his gloves, and +fell foul of the groom over a buckle of the harness, in a fashion that +left the man open-mouthed. "Blow me, if I don't believe he's got the +sack!" thought the man in driving townwards. +</P> + +<P> +The abrupt stoppage of Richard's visits to Plevna House staggered Mary. +And since she could get nothing out of her husband, she tied on her +bonnet and went off hotfoot to question her friend. But Mrs. Henry +tearfully declared her ignorance she had listened in fear and trembling +to the sound of the two angry voices—and Henry was adamant. They had +already called in another doctor. +</P> + +<P> +Mary came home greatly distressed, and, Richard still wearing his +obstinate front, she ended by losing her temper. He knew well enough, +said she, it was not her way to interfere or to be inquisitive about +his patients; but this was different; this had to do with one of her +dearest friends; she must know. In her ears rang Agnes's words: "Henry +told me, love, he wouldn't insult me by repeating what your husband +said of me. Oh, Mary, isn't it dreadful? And when I liked him so as a +doctor!"—She now repeated them aloud. +</P> + +<P> +This was too much for Mahony. He blazed up. "The confounded +mischiefmonger—the backbiter! Well, if you will have it, wife, here +you are ... here's the truth. What I said to Ocock was: I said, my good +man, if you want your wife to get over her next confinement more +quickly, keep the sherry-decanter out of her reach." +</P> + +<P> +Mary gasped and sank on a chair, letting her arms flop to her side. +"Richard!" she ejaculated. "Oh, Richard, you never did!" +</P> + +<P> +"I did indeed, my dear.—Oh well, not in just those words, of course; +we doctors must always wrap the truth up in silver paper.—And I should +feel it my duty to do the same again to-morrow; though there are +pleasanter things in life, Mary, I can assure you, than informing a low +mongrel like Ocock that his wife is drinking on the sly. You can have +no notion, my dear, of the compliments one calls down on one's head by +so doing. The case is beyond my grasp, of course, and I am cloaking my +own shortcomings by making scandalous insinuations against a delicate +lady, who 'takes no more than her position entitles her to'—his very +words, Mary!—'for the purpose of keeping up her strength.'" And Mahony +laughed hotly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but was it—I mean... was it really necessary to say it?" +stammered Mary still at sea. And as her husband only shrugged his +shoulders: "Then I can't pretend to be surprised at what has happened, +Richard. Mr. Henry will NEVER forgive you. He thinks so much of +everything and every one belonging to him." +</P> + +<P> +"Pray, can I help that? ... help his infernal pride? And, good God, +Mary, can't you see that, far more terrible than my having had to tell +him the truth, is the fact of there being such a truth to tell?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, indeed I can," and the warm tears rushed to Mary's eyes. +"Poor, poor little Agnes!—Richard, it comes of her having once been +married to that dreadful man. And though she doesn't say so, yet I +don't believe she's really happy in her second marriage either. There +are so many things she's not allowed to do—and she's afraid of Mr. +Henry, I know she is. You see he's displeased when she's dull or +unwell; she must always be bright and look pretty; and I expect the +truth is, since her illness she has taken to taking things, just to +keep her spirits up." Here Mary saw a ray of light, and snatched at it. +"But in that case mightn't the need for them pass, as she grows +stronger?" +</P> + +<P> +"I lay no claim to be a prophet, my dear." +</P> + +<P> +"For it does seem strange that I never noticed anything," went on Mary, +more to herself than to him. "I've seen Agnes at all hours of the +day... when she wasn't in the least expecting visitors.—Yes, Richard, +I do know people sometimes eat things to take the smell away. But the +idea of Agnes doing anything so ... so low—oh, isn't it JUST possible +there might be some mistake?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well, if you're going to imitate Ocock and try to teach me my +business!" gave back Mahony with an angry gesture, and sitting down at +the table, he pulled books and papers to him. +</P> + +<P> +"As if such a thing would ever occur to me! It's only that ... that +somehow my brain won't take it in. Agnes has always been such a dear +good little soul, all kindness. She's never done anybody any harm or +said a hard word about any one, all the years I've known her. I simply +CAN'T believe it of her, and that's the truth. As for what people will +say when it gets about that you've been shown the door in a house like +Mr. Henry's—why, I'm afraid even to think of it!" and powerless any +longer to keep back her tears, Mary hastened from the room. +</P> + +<P> +But she also thought it wiser to get away before Richard had time to +frame the request that she should break off all intercourse with Plevna +House. This, she could never promise to do; and the result might be a +quarrel. Whereas if she avoided giving her word, she would be free to +slip out now and then to see poor Agnes, when Richard was on his rounds +and Mr. Henry at business. But this was the only point clear to her. In +standing up for her friend she had been perfectly sincere: to think ill +of a person she cared for, cost Mary an inward struggle. Against this, +however, she had an antipathy to set that was almost stronger than +herself. Of all forms of vice, intemperance was the one she hated most. +She lived in a country where it was, alas! only too common; but she had +never learnt to tolerate it, or to look with a lenient eye on those who +succumbed: and whether these were but slaves of the nipping habit; or +the eternal dram-drinkers who felt fit for nothing if they had not a +peg inside them; or those seasoned topers who drank their companions +under the table without themselves turning a hair; or yet again those +who, sober for three parts of the year, spent the fourth in secret +debauches. Herself she had remained as rigidly abstemious as in the +days of her girlhood. And she often mused, with a glow at her heart, on +her great good fortune in having found in Richard one whose views on +this subject were no less strict than her own. Hence her distress at +his disclosure was caused not alone by the threatened loss of a +friendship: she wept for the horror with which the knowledge filled her. +</P> + +<P> +Little by little, though, her mind worked round to what was, after all, +the chief consideration: Richard's action and its probable +consequences. And here once more she was divided against herself. For a +moment she had hoped her husband would own the chance of him being in +error. But she soon saw that this would never do. A mistake on his part +would be a blow to his reputation. Besides making enemies of people +like the Henrys for nothing. If he had to lose them as patients, it +might as well be for a good solid reason, she told herself with a dash +of his own asperity. No, it was a case of either husband or friend. And +though she pitied Agnes from the bottom of her heart, yet there were +literally no lengths she would have shrunk from going to, to spare +Richard pain or even anxiety. And this led her on to wonder whether, +granted things were as he said, he had approached Mr. Henry in the most +discreet way. Could he not have avoided a complete break? She sat and +pondered this question till her head ached, finding herself up against +the irreconcilability of the practical with the ideal which complicates +a man's working life. What she belatedly tried to think out for her +husband was some little common-sense stratagem by means of which he +could have salved his conscience, without giving offence. He might have +said that the drugs he was prescribing would be nullified by the use of +wine or spirits; even better, have warned Agnes in private. Somehow, it +might surely have been managed. Mr. Henry had no doubt been extremely +rude and overbearing; but in earlier years Richard had known how to +behave towards ill-breeding. She couldn't tell why, but he was finding +it more and more difficult to get on with people nowadays. He certainly +had a very great deal to do, and was often tired out. Again, he did not +need to care so much as formerly whether he offended people or +not—ordinary patients, that was; the Henrys, of course, were of the +utmost consequence. Still, once on a time he had been noted for his +tact; it was sad to see it leaving him in the lurch. Several times of +late she had been forced to step in and smooth out awkwardnesses. But a +week ago he had had poor little Amelia Grindle up in arms, by telling +her that her sickly first-born would mentally never be quite like other +children. To every one else this had been plain from the outset; but +Amelia had suspected nothing, having, poor thing, no idea when a babe +ought to begin to take notice or cut its teeth. Richard said it was +better for her to face the truth betimes than to spend her life vainly +hoping and fretting; indeed, it would not be right of him to allow it. +Poor dear Richard! He set such store by truth and principle—and she, +Mary, would not have had him otherwise. All the same, she thought that +in both cases a small compromise would not have hurt him. But +compromise he would not ... or could not. And as, recalled to reality +by the sight of the week's washing, which strained, ballooned, +collapsed, on its lines in the yard—Biddy was again letting the +clothes get much too dry!—as Mary rose to her feet, she manfully +squared her shoulders to meet the weight of the new burden that was +being laid on them. +</P> + +<P> +With regard to Mahony, it might be supposed that having faithfully done +what he believed to be his duty, he would enjoy the fruits of a quiet +mind. This was not so. Before many hours had passed he was wrestling +with the incident anew; and a true son of that nation which, for all +its level-headedness, spends its best strength in fighting shadows, he +felt a great deal angrier in retrospect than he had done at the moment. +It was not alone the fact of him having got his conge—no medico was +safe from THAT punch below the belt. His bitterness was aimed at +himself. Once more he had let himself be hoodwinked; had written down +the smooth civility it pleased Ocock to adopt towards him to respect +and esteem. Now that the veil was torn, he saw how poor the lawyer's +opinion of him actually was. And always had been. For a memory was +struggling to emerge in him, setting strings in vibration. And suddenly +there rose before him a picture of Ocock that time had dimmed. He saw +the latter standing in the dark, crowded lobby of the court-house, +cursing at him for letting their witness escape. There it was! There, +in these two scenes, far apart as they lay, you had the whole man. The +unctuous blandness, the sleek courtesy was but a mask, which he wore +for you just so long as you did not hinder him by getting in his way. +That was the unpardonable sin. For Ocock was out to succeed—to succeed +at any price and by any means. In tracing his course, no goal but this +had ever stood before him. The obligations that bore on your ordinary +mortal—a sense of honesty, of responsibility to one's fellows, the +soft pull of domestic ties—did not trouble Ocock. He laughed them +down, or wrung their necks like so many pullets. And should the poor +little woman who bore his name become a drag on him, she would be +tossed on to the rubbish-heap with the rest. In a way, so complete a +freedom from altruistic motives had something grandiose about it. But +those who ran up against it, and could not fight it with its own +weapons, had not an earthly chance. +</P> + +<P> +Thus Mahony sat in judgment, giving rein for once to his ingrained +dislike for the man of whom he had now made an enemy. In whose debt, +for the rest, he stood deep. And had done, ever since the day he had +been fool enough, like the fly in the nursery rhyme, to seek out Ocock +and his familiars in their grimy little "parlour" in Chancery Lane. +</P> + +<P> +But his first heat spent he soon cooled down, and was able to laugh at +the stagy explosiveness of his attitude. So much for the personal side +of the matter. Looked at from a business angle it was more serious. The +fact of him having been shown the door by a patient of Ocock's standing +was bound, as Mary saw, to react unfavourably on the rest of the +practice. The news would run like wildfire through the place; never +were such hotbeds of gossip as these colonial towns. Besides, the +colleague who had been called in to Mrs. Agnes in his stead, was none +too well disposed towards him. +</P> + +<P> +His fears were justified. It quickly got about that he had made a +blunder: all Mrs. Henry needed, said the new-comer, was change of air +and scene; and forthwith the lady was packed off on a trial trip to +Sydney. Mahony held his head high, and refused to notice looks and +hints. But he knew all about what went on behind his back: he was +morbidly sensitive to atmosphere; could tell how a house was charged as +soon as he crossed the threshold. People were saying: a mistake there, +why not here, too? Slow recoveries asked themselves if a fresh +treatment might not benefit them; lovers of blue pills hungered for +more drastic remedies. The disaffection would blow over, of course; but +it was painful while it lasted; and things were not bettered by one of +his patients choosing just this inconvenient moment to die—an elderly +man, down with the Russian influenza, who disobeyed orders, got up too +early and was carried off by double pneumonia inside a week.—Worry +over the mishap robbed his poor medical attendant of sleep for several +nights on end. +</P> + +<P> +Not that this was surprising; he found it much harder than of old to +keep his mind from running on his patients outside working-hours. In +his younger days he had laid down fixed rules on this score. Every +brainworker, he held, must in his spare time be able to detach his +thoughts from his chief business, pin them to something of quite +another kind, no matter how trivial: keep fowls or root round gardens, +play the flute or go in for carpentry. Now, he might have dug till his +palms blistered, it would not help. Those he prescribed for teased him +like a pack of spirit-presences, which clamour to be heard. And if a +serious case took a turn for the worse, he would find himself rising in +a sweat of uncertainty, and going lamp in hand into the surgery, to con +over a prescription he had written during the day. And one knew where +THAT kind of thing led! +</P> + +<P> +Now, as if all this were not enough, there was added to it the old, +evergreen botheration about money. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0410"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter X +</H3> + +<P> +Thus far, Ocock had nursed his mining investments for him with a +fatherly care. He himself had been free as a bird from responsibility. +Every now and again he would drop in at the office, just to make sure +the lawyer was on the alert; and each time he came home cheerful with +confidence. That was over now. As a first result of the breach, he +missed—or so he believed—clearing four hundred pounds. Among the +shares he held was one lot which till now had proved a sorry bargain. +Soon after purchase something had gone wrong with the management of the +claim; there had been a lawsuit, followed by calls unending and never a +dividend. Now, when these shares unexpectedly swung up to a high +level—only to drop the week after to their standing figure—Ocock +failed to sell out in the nick of time. Called to account, he replied +that it was customary in these matters for his clients to advise him; +thus deepening Mahony's sense of obligation. Stabbed in his touchiness, +he wrote for all his scrip to be handed over to him; and thereafter +loss and gain depended on himself alone. It certainly brought a new +element of variety into his life. The mischief was, he could get to his +study of the money-market only with a fagged brain. And the fear lest +he should do something rash or let a lucky chance slip kept him on +tenter-hooks. +</P> + +<P> +It was about this time that Mary, seated one evening in face of her +husband, found herself reflecting: "When one comes to think of it, how +seldom Richard ever smiles nowadays." +</P> + +<P> +For a wonder they were at a soiree together, at the house of one of +Mahony's colleagues. The company consisted of the inner circle of +friends and acquaintances: "Always the same people—the old job lot! +One knows before they open their mouths what they'll say and how +they'll say it," Richard had grumbled as he dressed. The Henry Ococks +were not there though, it being common knowledge that the two men +declined to meet; and a dash of fresh blood was present in the shape of +a lady and gentleman just "out from home." Richard got into talk with +this couple, and Mary, watching him fondly, could not but be struck by +his animation. His eyes lit up, he laughed and chatted, made merry +repartee: she was carried back to the time when she had known him +first. In those days his natural gravity was often cut through by a +mood of high spirits, of boyish jollity, which, if only by way of +contrast, rendered him a delightful companion. She grew a little +wistful, as she sat comparing present with past. And loath though she +was to dig deep, for fear of stirring up uncomfortable things, she +could not escape the discovery that, in spite of all his success—and +his career there had surpassed their dearest hopes—in spite of the +natural gifts fortune had showered on him, Richard was not what you +would call a happy man. No, nor even moderately happy. Why this should +be, it went beyond her to say. He had everything he could wish for: +yes, everything, except perhaps a little more time to himself, and +better health. He was not as strong as she would have liked to see him. +Nothing radically wrong, of course, but enough to fidget him. Might not +this ... this—he himself called it "want of tone"—be a reason for the +scant pleasure he got out of life? And: "I think I'll pop down and see +Dr. Munce about him one morning, without a word to him," was how she +eased her mind and wound up her reverie. +</P> + +<P> +But daylight, and the most prosaic hours of the twenty-four, made the +plan look absurd. +</P> + +<P> +Once alive though to his condition, she felt deeply sorry for him in +his patent inability ever to be content. It was a thousand pities. +Things might have run so smoothly for him, he have got so much +satisfaction out of them, if only he could have braced himself to +regard life in cheerier fashion. But at this Mary stopped ... and +wondered ... and wondered. Was that really true? Positively her +experiences of late led her to believe that Richard would be less happy +still if he had nothing to be unhappy about.—But dear me! this was +getting out of her depth altogether. She shook her head and rebuked +herself for growing fanciful. +</P> + +<P> +All the same, her new glimpse of his inmost nature made her doubly +tender of thwarting him; hence, she did not set her face as firmly as +she might otherwise have done, against a wild plan he now formed of +again altering, or indeed rebuilding the house; although she could +scarcely think of it with patience. She liked her house so well as it +stood; and it was amply big enough: there was only the pair of them... +and John's child. It had the name, she knew, of being one of the most +comfortable and best-kept in Ballarat. Brick for solidity, where wood +prevailed, with a wide snowy verandah up the posts of which rare +creepers ran, twining their tendrils one with another to form a screen +against the sun. Now, what must Richard do but uproot the creepers and +pull down the verandah, thus baring the walls to the fierce summer +heat; plaster over the brick; and, more outlandish still, add a top +storey. When she came back from Melbourne, where she had gone +a-visiting to escape the upset—Richard, ordinarily so sensitive, had +managed to endure it quite well, thus proving that he COULD put up with +discomfort if he wanted to—when she saw it again, Mary hardly +recognised her home. Personally she thought it ugly, for all its +grandeur; changed wholly for the worse. Nor did time ever reconcile her +to the upper storey. Domestic worries bred from it: the servant went +off in a huff because of the stairs; they were at once obliged to +double their staff. To cap it all, with its flat front unbroken by bay +or porch, the house looked like no other in the town. Now, instead of +passing admiring remarks, people stood stock-still before the gate to +laugh at its droll appearance. +</P> + +<P> +Yet, she would gladly have made the best of this, had Richard been the +happier for it. He was not—or only for the briefest of intervals. Then +his restlessness broke out afresh. +</P> + +<P> +There came days when nothing suited him; not his fine consulting room, +or the improved furnishings of the house, or even her cookery of which +he had once been so fond. He grew dainty to a degree; she searched her +cookery-book for piquant recipes. Next he fell to imagining it was +unhealthy to sleep on feathers, and went to the expense of having a +hard horsehair mattress made to fit the bed. Accustomed to the softest +down, he naturally tossed and turned all night long, and rose in the +morning declaring he felt as though he had been beaten with sticks. The +mattress was stowed away in a lean-to behind the kitchen, and there it +remained. It was not alone. Mary sometimes stood and considered, with a +rueful eye, the many discarded objects that bore it company. +Richard—oddly enough he was ever able to poke fun at himself—had +christened this outhouse "the cemetery of dead fads." Here was a set of +Indian clubs he had been going to harden his muscles with every +morning, and had used for a week; together with an india-rubber +gymnastic apparatus bought for the same purpose. Here stood a patent +shower-bath, that was to have dashed energy over him after a bad night, +and had only succeeded in giving him acute neuralgia; a standing-desk +he had broken his back at for a couple of days; a homoeopathic +medicine-chest and a phrenological head—both subjects he had meant to +satisfy his curiosity by looking into, had time not failed him. Mary +sighed, when she thought of the waste of good money these and similar +articles stood for. (Some day he would just have them privately carted +away to auction!) But if Richard set his heart on a thing he wanted it +so badly, so much more than other people did, that he knew no peace +till he had it. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony read in his wife's eyes the disapproval she was too wise to +utter. At any other time her silent criticism would have galled him; in +this case, he took shelter behind it. Let her only go on setting him +down for lax and spendthrift, incapable of knowing his own mind. He +would be sorry, indeed, for her to guess how matters really stood with +him. The truth was, he had fallen a prey to utter despondency, was +become so spiritless that it puzzled even himself. He thought he could +trace some of the mischief back to the professional knocks and jars +Ocock's action had brought down on him: to hear one's opinion doubted, +one's skill questioned, was the tyro's portion; he was too old to treat +such insolence with the scorn it deserved. Of course he had lived the +affair down; but the result of it would seem to be a bottomless ENNUI, +a TEDIUM VITAE that had something pathological about it. Under its +influence the homeliest trifles swelled to feats beyond his strength. +There was, for instance, the putting on and off one's clothing: this +infinite boredom of straps and buttons—and all for what? For a day +that would be an exact copy of the one that had gone before, a night as +unrefreshing as the last. Did any one suspect that there were moments +when he quailed before this job, suspect that more than once he had +even reckoned the number of times he would be called on to perform it, +day in, day out, till that garment was put on him that came off no +more; or that he could understand and feel sympathy with those faint +souls—and there were such—who laid hands on themselves rather than go +on doing it: did this get abroad, he would be considered ripe for +Bedlam. +</P> + +<P> +Physician, heal thyself! He swallowed doses of a tonic preparation, and +put himself on a fatty diet. +</P> + +<P> +Thereafter he tried to take a philosophic view of his case. He had now, +he told himself, reached an age when such a state of mind gave cause +neither for astonishment nor alarm. How often had it not fallen to him, +in his role of medical adviser, to reassure a patient on this score. +The arrival of middle age brought about a certain lowness of spirits in +even the most robust: along with a more or less marked bodily languor +went an uneasy sense of coming loss: the time was at hand to bid +farewell to much that had hitherto made life agreeable; and for most +this was a bitter pill. Meanwhile, one held a kind of mental +stocktaking. As often as not by the light of a complete +disillusionment. Of the many glorious things one had hoped to do—or to +be—nothing was accomplished: the great realisation, in youth +breathlessly chased but never grasped, was now seen to be a +mist-wraith, which could wear a thousand forms, but invariably turned +to air as one came up with it. In nine instances out of ten there was +nothing to put in its place; and you began to ask yourself in a kind of +horrific amaze: "Can this be all? ... THIS? For this the pother of +growth, the struggles, and the sufferings?" The soul's climacteric, if +you would, from which a mortal came forth dulled to resignation; or +greedy for the few physical pleasures left him; or prone to that tragic +clinging to youth's skirts, which made the later years of many women +and not a few men ridiculous. In each case the motive power was the +same: the haunting fear that one had squeezed life dry; worse still, +that it had not been worth the squeezing. +</P> + +<P> +Thus his reason. But, like a tongue of flame, his instinct leapt up to +give combat. By the gods, this cap did NOT fit him! Squeezed life try? +... found it not worth while? Why, he had never got within measurable +distance of what he called life, at all! There could be no question of +him resigning himself: deep down in him, he knew, was an enormous +residue of vitality, of untouched mental energy that only waited to be +drawn on. It was like a buried treasure, jealously kept for the event +of his one day catching up with life: not the bare scramble for a +living that here went by that name, but Life with a capital L, the +existence he had once confidently counted on as his—a tourney of +spiritual adventuring, of intellectual excitement, in which the prize +striven for was not money or anything to do with money. Far away, +thousands of miles off, luckier men than he were in the thick of it. +He, of his own free will, had cut himself adrift, and now it was too +late. +</P> + +<P> +But was it? Had the time irretrievably gone by? The ancient idea of +escape, long dormant, suddenly reawoke in him with a new force. And, +once stirring, it was not to be silenced, but went on sounding like a +ground-tone through all he did. At first he shut his ears to it, to +dally with side issues. For example, he worried the question why the +breaking-point should only now have been reached and not six months, a +year ago. It was quibbling to lay the whole blame on Ocock's shoulders. +The real cause went deeper, was of older growth. And driving his mind +back over the past, he believed he could pin his present loss of grip +to that fatal day on which he learnt that his best friend had betrayed +him. Things like that gave you a crack that would not mend. He had been +rendered suspicious where he had once been credulous; prone to see evil +where no evil was. For, deceived by Purdy, in whom could he trust? Of a +surety not in the pushful set of jobbers and tricksters he was +condemned to live amongst. No discoveries he might make about them +would surprise him.—And once more the old impotent anger with himself +broke forth, that he should ever have let himself take root in such +detestable surroundings. +</P> + +<P> +Why not shake the dust of the country off his feet?—From this direct +attack he recoiled, casting up his hands as if against the evil eye. +What next? But exclaim as he might, now that the idea had put on words, +it was by no means so simple to fend it off as when it had been a mere +vague humming at the back of his mind. It seized him; swept his brain +bare of other thoughts. He began to look worn. And never more so than +when he imagined himself taking the bull by the horns and asking Mary's +approval of his wild-goose scheme. He could picture her face, when she +heard that he planned throwing up his fine position and decamping on +nothing a year. The vision was a cold douche to his folly. No, no! it +would not do. You could not accustom a woman to ease and luxury and +then, when you felt YOU had had enough and would welcome a return to +Spartan simplicity, to an austere clarity of living, expect her to be +prepared, at the word, to step back into poverty. One was bound ... +bound ... and by just those silken threads which, in premarital days, +had seemed sheerly desirable. He wondered now what it would be like to +stand free as the wind, answerable only to himself. The bare thought of +it filled him as with the rushing of wings. +</P> + +<P> +Once he had been within an ace of cutting and running. That was in the +early days, soon after his marriage. Trade had petered out; and there +would have been as little to leave behind as to carry with him. But, +even so, circumstances had proved too strong for him: what with Mary's +persuasions and John's intermeddling, his scheme had come to nothing. +And if, with so much in his favour, he had not managed to carry it out, +how in all the world could he hope to now, when every thing conspired +against him. It was, besides, excusable in youth to challenge fortune; +a very different matter for one of his age. +</P> + +<P> +Of his age! ... the words gave him pause. By their light he saw why he +had knuckled under so meekly, at the time of his first attempt. It was +because then a few years one way or another did not signify; he had +them to spare. Now, each individual year was precious to him; he parted +with it lingeringly, unwillingly. Time had taken to flashing past, too; +Christmas was hardly celebrated before it was again at the door. +Another ten years or so and he would be an old man, and it would in +very truth be too late. The tempter voice—in this case also the voice +of reason—said: now or never! +</P> + +<P> +But when he came to look the facts in the face his heart failed him +anew, so heavily did the arguments against his taking such a step—and, +true to his race, it was these he began by marshalling—weigh down the +scales. He should have done it, if done it was to be, five ... three +... even a couple of years ago. Each day that dawned added to the +tangle, made the idea seem more preposterous. Local dignities had been +showered on him: he sat on the Committees of the District Hospital and +the Benevolent Asylum; was Honorary Medical Officer to this Society and +that; a trustee of the church; one of the original founders of the +Mechanics' Institute; vice-president of the Botanical Society; and so +on, AD INFINITUM. His practice was second to none; his visiting-book +rarely shewed a blank space; people drove in from miles round to +consult him. In addition, he had an extremely popular wife, a good +house and garden, horses and traps, and a sure yearly income of some +twelve or thirteen hundred. Of what stuff was he made, that he could +lightly contemplate turning his back on prizes such as these? +</P> + +<P> +Even as he told them off, however, the old sense of hollowness was upon +him again. His life there reminded him of a gaudy drop-scene, let down +before an empty stage; a painted sham, with darkness and vacuity +behind. At bottom, none of these distinctions and successes meant +anything to him; not a scrap of mental pabulum could be got from them: +rather would he have chosen to be poor and a nobody among people whose +thoughts flew to meet his half-way. And there was also another side to +it. Stingy though the years had been of intellectual grist, they had +not scrupled to rob him of many an essential by which he set store. His +old faculty—for good or evil—of swift decision, for instance. It was +lost to him now; as witness his present miserable vacillation. It had +gone off arm-in-arm with his health; physically he was but a ghost of +the man he had once been. But the bitterest grudge he bore the life was +for the shipwreck it had made of his early ideals. He remembered the +pure joy, the lofty sentiments with which he had returned to medicine. +Bah!—there had been no room for any sentimental nonsense of that kind +here. He had long since ceased to follow his profession +disinterestedly; the years had made a hack of him—a skilled hack, of +course—but just a hack. He had had no time for study; all his strength +had gone in keeping his income up to a certain figure; lest the wife +should be less well dressed and equipped than her neighbours; or +patients fight shy of him; or his confreres wag their tongues.—Oh! he +had adapted himself supremely well to the standards of this Australia, +so-called Felix. And he must not complain if, in so doing, he had been +stripped, not only of his rosy dreams, but also of that spiritual force +on which he could once have drawn at will. Like a fool he had believed +it possible to serve mammon with impunity, and for as long as it suited +him. He knew better now. At this moment he was undergoing the +sensations of one who, having taken shelter in what he thinks a light +and flimsy structure, finds that it is built of the solidest stone. +Worse still: that he has been walled up inside. +</P> + +<P> +And even suppose he COULD pull himself together for the effort +required, how justify his action in the eyes of the world? His motives +would be double-dutch to the hard-headed crew around him; nor would any +go to the trouble of trying to understand. There was John. All John +would see was an elderly and not over-robust man deliberately throwing +away the fruits of year-long toil—and for what? For the privilege of, +in some remote spot, as a stranger and unknown, having his way to make +all over again; of being free to shoulder once more the risks and +hazards the undertaking involved. And little though he cared for John +or any one else's opinion, Mahony could not help feeling a trifle sore, +in advance, at the ridicule of which he might be the object, at the +zanyish figure he was going to be obliged to cut. +</P> + +<P> +But a fig for what people thought of him! Once away from here he would, +he thanked God, never see any of them again. No, it was Mary who was +the real stumbling-block, the opponent he most feared. Had he been less +attached to her, the thing would have been easier; as it was, he shrank +from hurting her. And hurt and confuse her he must. He knew Mary as +well—nay, better than he knew his own unreckonable self. For Mary was +not a creature of moods, did not change her mental envelope a dozen +times a day. And just his precise knowledge of her told him that he +would never get her to see eye to eye with him. Her clear, serene +outlook was attuned to the plain and the practical; she would discover +a thousand drawbacks to his scheme, but nary a one of the incorporeal +benefits he dreamed of reaping from it. There was his handling of money +for one thing: she had come, he was aware, to regard him as incurably +extravagant; and it would be no easy task to convince her that he could +learn again to fit his expenses to a light purse. She had a woman's +instinctive distrust, too, of leaving the beaten track. Another point +made him still more dubious. Mary's whole heart and happiness were +bound up in this place where she had spent the flower-years of her +life: who knew if she would thrive as well on other soil? He found it +intolerable to think that she might have to pay for his want of +stability.—Yes, reduced to its essentials, it came to mean the pitting +of one soul's welfare against that of another; was a toss-up between +his happiness and hers. One of them would have to yield. Who would +suffer more by doing so—he or she? He believed that a sacrifice on his +part would make the wreck of his life complete. On hers—well, thanks +to her doughty habit of finding good everywhere, there was a chance of +her coming out unscathed. +</P> + +<P> +Here was his case in a nutshell. +</P> + +<P> +Still he did not tackle Mary. For sometimes, after all, a disturbed +doubt crept upon him whether it would not be possible to go on as he +was; instead of, as she would drastically word it, cutting his throat +with his own hand. And to be perfectly honest, he believed it would. He +could now afford to pay for help in his work; to buy what books he +needed or fancied; to take holidays while putting in a LOCUM; even to +keep on the LOCUM, at a good salary, while he journeyed overseas to +visit the land of his birth. But at this another side of him—what he +thought of as spirit, in contradistinction to soul—cried out in alarm, +fearful lest it was again to be betrayed. Thus far, though by rights +coequal in the house of the body, it had been rigidly kept down. +Nevertheless it had persisted, like a bright cold little spark at dead +of night: his restlessness, the spiritual malaise that encumbered him +had been its mute form of protest. Did he go on turning a deaf ear to +its warnings, he might do himself irreparable harm. For time was +flying, the sum of his years mounting, shrinking that roomy future to +which he had thus far always postponed what seemed too difficult for +the moment. Now he saw that he dared delay no longer in setting free +the imprisoned elements in him, was he ever to grow to that complete +whole which each mortal aspires to be.—That a change of environment +would work this miracle he did not doubt; a congenial environment was +meat and drink to him, was light and air. Here in this country, he had +remained as utterly alien as any Jew of old who wept by the rivers of +Babylon. And like a half-remembered tune there came floating into his +mind words he had lit on somewhere, or learnt on the +school-bench—Horace, he thought, but, whatever their source, words +that fitted his case to a nicety. COELUM, NON ANIMUM, MUTANT, QUI TRANS +MARE CURRUNT. "Non animum"? Ah! could he but have foreseen +this—foreknown it. If not before he set sail on what was to have been +but a swift adventure, then at least on that fateful day long past +when, foiled by Mary's pleadings and his own inertia, he had let +himself be bound anew. +</P> + +<P> +Thus the summer dragged by; a summer to try the toughest. Mahony +thought he had never gone through its like for heat and discomfort. The +drought would not break, and on the great squatting-stations round +Ballarat and to the north, the sheep dropped like flies at an early +frost. The forest reservoirs dried up, displaying the red mud of their +bottoms, and a bath became a luxury—or a penance—the scanty water +running thick and red. Then the bush caught fire and burnt for three +days, painting the sky a rusty brown, and making the air hard to +breathe. Of a morning his first act on going into his surgery was to +pick up the thermometer that stood on the table. Sure as fate, though +the clock had not long struck nine, the mercury marked something +between a hundred and a hundred and five degrees. He let it fall with a +nerveless gesture. Since his sunstroke he not only hated, he feared the +sun. But out into it he must, to drive through dust-clouds so opaque +that one could only draw rein till they subsided, meanwhile holloaing +off collisions. Under the close leather hood he sat and stifled; or, +removing his green goggles for the fiftieth time, climbed down to enter +yet another baked wooden house, where he handled prostrate bodies rank +with sweat, or prescribed for pallid or fever-speckled children. Then +home, to toy with the food set before him, his mind already running on +the discomforts of the afternoon.—Two bits of ill-luck came his way +this summer. Old Ocock fell, in dismounting from a vehicle, and +sustained a compound fracture of the femur. Owing to his advanced age +there was for a time fear of malunion of the parts, and this kept +Mahony on the rack. Secondly, a near neighbour, a common little fellow +who kept a jeweller's shop in Bridge Street, actually took the plunge: +sold off one fine day and sailed for home. And this seemed the +unkindest cut of all. +</P> + +<P> +But the accident that gave the death-blow to his scruples was another. +On the advice of a wealthy publican he was treating, whose judgment he +trusted, Mahony had invested—heavily for him, selling off other stock +to do it—in a company known as the Hodderburn Estate. This was a +government affair and ought to have been beyond reproach. One day, +however, it was found that the official reports of the work done by the +diamond drill-bore were cooked documents; and instantly every one +connected with the mine—directors, managers, engineers—lay under the +suspicion of fraudulent dealings. Shares had risen as high as ten +pounds odd; but when the drive reached the bore and, in place of the +deep gutter-ground the public had been led to expect, hard rock was +found overhead, there was a panic; shares dropped to twenty-five +shillings and did not rally. Mahony was a loser by six hundred pounds, +and got, besides, a moral shaking from which he could not recover. He +sat and bit his little-finger nail to the quick. Was he, he savagely +asked himself, going to linger on until the little he had managed to +save was snatched from him? +</P> + +<P> +He dashed off a letter to John, asking his brother-in-law to recommend +a reliable broker. And this done, he got up to look for Mary, +determined to come to grips with her at last. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0411"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XI +</H3> + +<P> +How to begin, how reduce to a few plain words his subtle tangle of +thought and feeling, was the problem. +</P> + +<P> +He did not find his wife on her usual seat in the arbour. In searching +for her, upstairs and down, he came to a rapid decision. He would lay +chief stress on his poor state of health. +</P> + +<P> +"I feel I'm killing myself. I can't go on." +</P> + +<P> +"But Richard dear!" ejaculated Mary, and paused in her sewing, her +needle uplifted, a bead balanced on its tip. Richard had run her to +earth in the spare bedroom, to which at this time she often repaired. +For he objected to the piece of work she had on hand—that of covering +yards of black cashmere with minute jet beads—vowing that she would +ruin her eyesight over it. So, having set her heart on a fashionable +polonaise, she was careful to keep out of his way. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not a young man any longer, wife. When one's past forty ..." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor mother used to say forty-five was a man's prime of life." +</P> + +<P> +"Not for me. And not here in this God-forsaken hole!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh dear me! I do wonder why you have such a down on Ballarat. I'm sure +there must be many worse places in the world to live in", and lowering +her needle, Mary brought the bead to its appointed spot. "Of course you +have a lot to do, I know, and being such a poor sleeper doesn't improve +matters." But she was considering her pattern sideways as she spoke, +thinking more of it than of what she said. Every one had to work hard +out here; compared with some she could name, Richard's job of driving +round in a springy buggy seemed ease itself. "Besides I told you at the +time you were wrong not to take a holiday in winter, when you had the +chance. You need a thorough change every year to set you up. You came +back from the last as fresh as a daisy." +</P> + +<P> +"The only change that will benefit me is one for good and all," said +Mahony with extreme gloom. He had thrown up the bed-curtain and +stretched himself on the bed, where he lay with his hands clasped under +his neck. +</P> + +<P> +Tutored by experience, Mary did not contradict him. +</P> + +<P> +"And it's the kind I've finally made up my mind to take." +</P> + +<P> +"Richard! How you do run on!" and Mary, still gently incredulous but a +thought wider awake, let her work sink to her lap. "What is the use of +talking like that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Believe it or not, my dear, as you choose. You'll see—that's all." +</P> + +<P> +At her further exclamations of doubt and amazement, Mahony's patience +slipped its leash. "Surely to goodness my health comes first ... before +any confounded practice?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ssh! Baby's asleep.—And don't get cross, Richard. You can hardly +expect me not to be surprised when you spring a thing of this sort on +me. You've never even dropped a hint of it before." +</P> + +<P> +"Because I knew very well what it would be. You dead against it, of +course!" +</P> + +<P> +"Now I call that unjust. You've barely let me get a word in edgeways." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I know by heart everything you're going to say. It's nonsense ... +folly ... madness ... and so on: all the phrases you women fish up from +your vocabulary when you want to stave off a change—hinder any +alteration of the STATUS QUO. But I'll tell you this, wife. You'll bury +me here, if I don't get away soon. I'm not much more than skin and bone +as it is. And I confess, if I've got to be buried I'd rather lie +elsewhere—have good English earth atop of me." +</P> + +<P> +Had Mary been a man, she might have retorted that this was a very +woman's way of shifting ground. She bit her lip and did not answer +immediately. Then: "You know I can't bear to hear you talk like that, +even in fun. Besides, you always say much more than you mean, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well then, if you prefer it, wait and see! You'll be sorry some +day." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to tell me, Richard, you're in earnest, when you talk of +selling off your practice and going to England?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can buy another there, can't I?" +</P> + +<P> +With these words he leapt to his feet, afire with animation. And while +Mary, now thoroughly uneasy, was folding up her work, he dilated upon +the benefits that would accrue to them from the change. Good-bye to +dust, and sun, and drought, to blistering hot winds and PAPIER MACHE +walls! They would make their new home in some substantial old stone +house that had weathered half a century or more, tangled over with +creepers, folded away in its own privacy as only an English house could +be. In the flower-garden roses would trail over arch and pergola; there +would be a lawn with shaped yews on it; while in the orchard old +apple-trees would flaunt their red abundance above grey, lichened walls. +</P> + +<P> +("As if there weren't apples enough here!" thought Mary.) +</P> + +<P> +He got a frog in his throat as he went on to paint in greater detail +for her, who had left it so young, the intimate charm of the home +country—the rich, green, dimpled countryside. And not till now did he +grasp how sorely he had missed it. "Oh, believe me, to talk of 'going +home' is no mere figure of speech, Mary!" In fancy he trod winding +lanes that ran between giant hedges: hedges in tender bud, with dew on +them; or snowed over with white mayflowers; or behung with the fairy +webs and gossamer of early autumn, thick as twine beneath their load of +moisture. He followed white roads that were banked with primroses and +ran headlong down to the sea; he climbed the shoulder of a down on a +spring morning, when the air was alive with larks carolling. But +chiefly it was the greenness that called to him—the greenness of the +greenest country in the world. Viewed from this distance, the homeland +looked to him like one vast meadow. Oh, to tread its grass again!—not +what one knew as grass here, a poor annual, that lasted for a few brief +weeks; but lush meadow-grass, a foot high; or shaven emerald lawns on +which ancient trees spread their shade; or the rank growth in old +orchards, starry with wild flowers, on which fruit-blossoms fluttered +down. He longed, too, for the exquisite finishedness of the mother +country, the soft tints of cloud-veiled northern skies. His eyes ached, +his brows had grown wrinkled from gazing on iron roofs set against the +hard blue overhead; on dirty weatherboards innocent of paint; on +higgledy-piggledy backyards and ramshackle fences; on the straggling +landscape with its untidy trees—all the unrelieved ugliness, in short, +of the colonial scene. +</P> + +<P> +He stopped only for want of breath. Mary was silent. He waited. Still +she did not speak. +</P> + +<P> +He fell to earth with a bump, and was angry. "Come ... out with it! I +suppose all this seems to you just the raving of a lunatic?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Richard, no. But a little ... well, a little unpractical. I never +heard before of any one throwing up a good income because he didn't +like the scenery. It's a step that needs the greatest consideration." +</P> + +<P> +"Good God! Do you think I haven't considered it?—and from every angle? +There isn't an argument for or against, that I haven't gone over a +thousand and one times." +</P> + +<P> +"And with never a word to me, Richard?" Mary was hurt; and showed it. +"It really is hardly fair. For this is my home as well as yours.—But +now listen. You're tired out, run down with the heat and that last +attack of dysentery. Take a good holiday—stay away for three months if +you like. Sail over to Hobart Town, or up to Sydney, you who'er so fond +of the water. And when you come back strong and well we'll talk about +all this again. I'm sure by then you'll see things with other eyes." +</P> + +<P> +"And who's to look after the practice, pray?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, a LOCUM TENENS, of course. Or engage an assistant." +</P> + +<P> +"Aha! you'd agree to that now, would you? I remember how opposed you +were once to the idea." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if I have to choose between it and you giving up altogether... +Now, for your own sake, Richard, don't go and do anything rash. If once +you sell off and leave Ballarat, you can never come back. And then, if +you regret it, where will you be? That's why I say don't hurry to +decide. Sleep over it. Or let us consult somebody—John perhaps—" +</P> + +<P> +"No you don't, madam, no you don't!" cried Richard with a grim dash of +humour. "You had me once ... crippled me ... handcuffed me—you and +your John between you! It shan't happen again." +</P> + +<P> +"I crippled you? I, Richard! Why, never in my life have I done anything +but what I thought was for your good. I've always put you first." And +Mary's eyes filled with tears. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, where it's a question of one's material welfare you haven't your +equal—I admit that. But the other side of me needs coddling too—yes, +and sympathy. But it can whistle for such a thing as far as you're +concerned." +</P> + +<P> +Mary sighed. "I think you don't realise, dear, how difficult it +sometimes is to understand you ... or to make out what you really do +want," she said slowly. +</P> + +<P> +Her tone struck at his heart. "Indeed and I do!" he cried contritely. +"I'm a born old grumbler, mavourneen, I know—contrariness in person! +But in this case ... come, love, do try to grasp what I'm after; it +means so much to me." And he held out his hand to her, to beseech her. +</P> + +<P> +Unhesitatingly she laid hers in it. "I am trying, Richard, though you +mayn't believe it. I always do. And even if I sometimes can't manage +it—well, you know, dear, you generally get your own way in the end. +Think of the house. I'm still not clear why you altered it. I liked it +much better as it was. But I didn't make any fuss, did I?—though I +should have, if I'd thought we were only to occupy it for a single year +after. —Still, that was a trifle compared with what you want to do +now. Though I lived to a hundred I should never be able to approve of +this. And you don't know how hard it is to consent to a thing one +disapproves of. You couldn't do it yourself. Oh, what WAS the use, +Richard, of toiling as you have, if now, just when you can afford to +charge higher fees and the practice is beginning to bring in money—" +</P> + +<P> +Mahony let her hand drop, even giving it a slight push from him, and +turned to pace the floor anew. "Oh, money, money, money! I'm sick of +the very sound of the word. But you talk as if nothing else mattered. +Can't you for once, wife, see through the letter of the thing to the +spirit behind? I admit the practice HAS brought in a tidy income of +late; but as for the rest of the splendours, they exist, my dear, only +in your imagination. If you ask me, I say I lead a dog's life—why, +even a navvy works only for a fixed number of hours per diem! My days +have neither beginning nor end. Look at yesterday! Out in the blazing +sun from morning till night—I didn't get back from the second round +till nine. At ten a confinement that keeps me up till three. From three +till dawn I toss and turn, far too weary to sleep. By the time six +o'clock struck—you of course were slumbering sweetly—I was in hell +with tic. At seven I could stand it no longer and got up for the +chloroform bottle: an hour's rest at any price—else how face the crowd +in the waiting-room? And you call that splendour?—luxurious ease? If +so, my dear, words have not the same meaning any more for you and me." +</P> + +<P> +Mary did not point out that she had said nothing of the kind, or that +he had set up an extreme case as typical. She tightened her lips; her +big eyes were very solemn. +</P> + +<P> +"And it's not the work alone," Richard was declaring, "it's the place, +wife—the people. I'm done with 'em, Mary—utterly done! Upon my word, +if I thought I had to go on living among them even for another +twelvemonth ..." +</P> + +<P> +"But PEOPLE are the same all the world over!" The protest broke from +her in spite of herself. +</P> + +<P> +"No, by God, they're not!" And here Richard launched out into a +diatribe against his fellow-colonists: "This sordid riff-raff! These +hard, mean, grasping money-grubbers!" that made Mary stand aghast. What +could be the matter with him? What was he thinking of, he who was +ordinarily so generous? Had he forgotten the many kindnesses shown him, +the warm gratitude of his patients, people's sympathy, at the time of +his illness? But he went on: "My demands are most modest. All I ask is +to live among human beings with whom I have half an idea in common—men +who sometimes raise their noses from the ground, instead of eternally +scheming how to line their pockets, reckoning human progress solely in +terms of l.s.d. No, I've sacrificed enough of my life to this country. +I mean to have the rest for myself. And there's another thing, my +dear—another bad habit this precious place breeds in us. It begins by +making us indifferent to those who belong to us but are out of our +sight, and ends by cutting our closest ties. I don't mean by distance +alone. I have an old mother still living, Mary, whose chief prayer is +that she may see me once again before she dies. I was her +last-born—the child her arms kept the shape of. What am I to her now? +... what does she know of me, of the hard, tired, middle-aged man I +have become? And you are in much the same box, my dear; unless you've +forgotten by now that you ever had a mother." +</P> + +<P> +Mary was scandalised. "Forget one's mother? ... Richard! I think you're +trying what dreadful things you can find to say ... when I write home +every three months!" And provoked by this fresh piece of unreason she +opened fire in earnest, in defence of what she believed to be their +true welfare. Richard listened to her without interrupting; even seemed +to grant the truth of what she said. But none the less, even as she +pleaded with him, a numbing sense of futility crept over her. She +stuttered, halted, and finally fell silent. Her words were like so many +lassos thrown after his vagrant soul; and this was out of reach. It had +sniffed freedom—it WAS free; ran wild already on the boundless plains +of liberty. +</P> + +<P> +After he had gone from the room she sat with idle hands. She was all in +a daze. Richard was about to commit an out-and-out folly, and she was +powerless to hinder it. If only she had had some one she could have +talked things over with, taken advice of! But no—it went against the +grain in her to discuss her husband's actions with a third person. +Purdy had been the sole exception, and Purdy had become impossible. +</P> + +<P> +Looking back, she marvelled at her own dullness in not fore-seeing that +something like this might happen. What more natural than that the +multitude of little whims and fads Richard had indulged should +culminate in a big whim of this kind? But the acknowledgment caused her +fresh anxiety. She had watched him tire, like a fickle child, of first +one thing, then another; was it likely that he would now suddenly prove +more stable? She did not think so. For she attributed his present mood +of pettish aversion wholly to the fact of his being run down in health. +It was quite true: he had not been himself of late. But, here again, he +was so fanciful that you never knew how literally to take his ailments: +half the time she believed he just imagined their existence; and the +long holiday she had urged on him would have been enough to sweep the +cobwebs from his brain. Oh, if only he could have held on in patience! +Four or five years hence, at most, he might have considered retiring +from general practice. She almost wept as she remembered how they had +once planned to live for that day. Now it was all to end in smoke. +</P> + +<P> +Then her mind reverted to herself and to what the break would mean to +her; and her little world rocked to its foundations. For no clear call +went out to Mary from her native land. She docilely said "home" with +the rest, and kept her family ties intact; but she had never expected +to go back, except on a flying visit. She thought of England rather +vaguely as a country where it was always raining, and where—according +to John—an assemblage of old fogies, known as the House of Commons, +persistently intermeddled in the affairs of the colony. For more than +half her life—and the half that truly counted—Australia had been her +home. +</P> + +<P> +Her home! In fancy she made a round of the house, viewing each cosy +room, lingering fondly over the contents of cupboards and presses, +recollecting how she had added this piece of furniture for convenience' +sake, that for ornament, till the whole was as perfect as she knew how +to make it. Now, everything she loved and valued—the piano, the +wax-candle chandelier, the gilt cornices, the dining-room +horsehair—would fall under the auctioneer's hammer, go to deck out the +houses of other people. Richard said she could buy better and handsomer +things in England; but Mary allowed herself no illusions on this score. +Where was the money to come from? She had learnt by personal experience +what slow work building up a practice was. It would be years and years +before they could hope for another such home. And sore and sorry as SHE +might feel at having to relinquish her pretty things, in Richard's case +it would mean a good deal more than that. To him the loss of them would +be a real misfortune, so used had he grown to luxury and comfort, so +strongly did the need of it run in his blood. +</P> + +<P> +Worse still was the prospect of parting from relatives and friends. The +tears came at this, freely. John's children!—who would watch over them +when she was gone? How could she, from so far away, keep the promise +she had made to poor Jinny on her death-bed? She would have to give up +the baby of which she had grown so fond—give it back into Zara's +unmotherly hands. And never again of a Saturday would she fetch poor +little long-legged Trotty from school. She must say good-bye to one and +to all—to John, and Zara, and Jerry—and would know no more, at close +quarters, how they fared. When Jerry married there would be no one to +see to it that he chose the right girl. Then Ned and Polly—poor souls, +poor souls! What with the rapid increase of their family and Ned's +unsteadiness—he could not keep any job long because of it—they only +just contrived to make ends meet. How they would do it when she was not +there to lend a helping hand, she could not imagine. And outside her +brothers and sisters there was good Mrs. Devine. Mary had engaged to +guide her friend's tottery steps on the slippery path of Melbourne +society, did Mr. Devine enter the ministry. And poor little Agnes with +her terrible weakness... and Amelia and her sickly babes ... and Tilly, +dear, good, warm-hearted Tilly! Never again would the pair of them +enjoy one of their jolly laughs; or cook for a picnic; or drive out to +a mushroom hunt. No, the children would grow up anyhow; her brothers +forget her in carving out their own lives; her friends find other +friends. +</P> + +<P> +For some time, however, she kept her own counsel. But when she had +tried by hook and by crook to bring Richard to reason, and failed; when +she saw that he was actually beginning, on the quiet, to make ready for +departure, and that the day was coming on which every one would have to +know: then she threw off her reserve. She was spending the afternoon +with Tilly. They sat on the verandah together, John's child, +black-eyed, fat, self-willed, playing, after the manner of two short +years, at their feet. At the news that was broken to her Tilly began by +laughing immoderately, believing that Mary was "taking a rise out of +her." But having studied her friend's face she let her work fall, +slowly opened mouth and eyes, and was at first unequal to uttering a +word. +</P> + +<P> +Thereafter she bombarded Mary with questions. +</P> + +<P> +"Wants to leave Ballarat? To go home to England?" she echoed, with an +emphasis such as Tilly alone could lay. "Well! of all the ... What for? +What on earth for? 'As somebody gone and left 'im a fortune? Or 'as 'e +been appointed pillmonger-in-ordinary to the Queen 'erself? What is it, +Mary? What's up?" +</P> + +<P> +What indeed! This was the question Mary dreaded, and one that would +leap to every tongue: why was he going? She sat on the horns of a +dilemma. It was not in her to wound people's feelings by blurting out +the truth—this would also put Richard in a bad light—and, did she +give no reason at all, many would think he had taken leave of his +senses. Weakly, in a very un-Maryish fashion, she mumbled that his +health was not what it should be, and he had got it into his head that +for this the climate of the colony was to blame. Nothing would do him +but to return to England. +</P> + +<P> +"I never! No, never in my born days did I hear tell of such a thing!" +and Tilly, exploding, brought her closed fist heavily down on her knee. +"Mary! ... for a mere maggot like that, to chuck up a practice such as +'e's got. Upon my word, my dear, it looks as if 'e was touched +'ere,"—and she significantly tapped her forehead. "Ha! Now I +understand. You know I've seen quite well, love, you've been looking a +bit down in the mouth of late. And so 'as pa noticed it, too. After +you'd gone the other day, 'e said to me: 'Looks reflexive-like does the +little lady nowadays; as if she'd got something on 'er mind.' And I to +him: 'Pooh! Isn't it enough that she's got to put up with the cranks +and crotchets of one o' YOUR sect?'—Oh Mary, my dear, there's many a +true word said in jest. Though little did I think what the crotchet +would be." And slowly the rims of Tilly's eyes and the tip of her nose +reddened and swelled. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I can't picture it, Mary—what it'ull be like 'ere without you," +she said; and pulling out her handkerchief blew snort after snort, +which was Tilly's way nowadays of having a good cry. "There, there, +Baby, Auntie's only got the sniffles.—For just think of it, Mary: +except that first year or so after you were married, we've been +together, you and me, pretty much ever since you came to us that time +at the 'otel—a little black midget of a thing in short frocks. I can +still remember 'ow Jinn and I laughed at the idea of you teaching us; +and 'ow poor ma said to wait and make sure we weren't laughing on the +wrong side of our mouths. And ma was right as usual. For if ever a +clever little kid trod the earth, it was you." +</P> + +<P> +Mary pooh-poohed the cleverness. "I knew very little more than you +yourselves. No, it was you who were all so kind to me. I had been +feeling so lonely—as if nobody wanted me—and I shall never forget how +mother put her arms round me and cuddled me, and how safe and +comfortable I felt. It was always just like home there to me." +</P> + +<P> +"And why not, I'd like to know!—Look 'ere, Mary, I'm going to ask you +something, plump and plain. 'Ave you really been happy in your +marriage, my dear, or 'ave you not? You're such a loyal little soul, I +know you'd never show it if you weren't; and sometimes I've 'ad my +doubts about you, Mary. For you and the doctor are just as different as +chalk and cheese." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I have—as happy as the day's long!" cried Mary, sensitive +as ever to a reflection on her husband. "You mustn't think anything +like that, Tilly. I couldn't imagine myself married to anyone but +Richard." +</P> + +<P> +"Then that only makes it harder for you now, poor thing, pulled two +ways like, as you are," said Tilly, and trumpeted afresh. "All the +same, there isn't anything I'd stick at, Mary, to keep you here. Don't +be offended, my dear, but it doesn't matter half so much about the +doctor going as you. There's none cleverer than 'im, of course, in 'is +own line. But 'e's never fitted in properly here—I don't want to +exactly say 'e thinks 'imself too good for us; but there is something, +Mary love, and I'm not the only one who's felt it. I've known people go +on like anything about 'im behind 'is back: nothing would induce them +to have 'im and 'is haughty airs inside their doors again, etcetera." +</P> + +<P> +Mary flushed. "Yes, I know, people do sometimes judge Richard very +unkindly. For at heart he's the most modest of men. It's only his +manner. And he can't help that, can he?" +</P> + +<P> +"There are those who say a doctor ought to be able to, my dear.—But +never mind him. Oh, it's you I feel for, Mary, being dragged off like +this. Can't you DO anything, dear? Put your foot down?" +</P> + +<P> +Mary shook her head. "It's no use. Richard is so ... well, so queer in +some ways, Tilly. Besides, you know, I don't think it would be right of +me to really pit my will against his." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor little you!—Oh! men are queer fish, Mary, aren't they? Not that +I can complain; I drew a prize in the lucky-bag when I took that old +Jawkins in there. But when I look round me, or think back, and see what +we women put up with! There was poor old ma; she 'ad to be man for +both. And Jinn, Mary, who didn't dare to call 'er soul 'er own. And +milady Agnes is travelling the selfsame road—why, she 'as to cock 'er +eye at Henry nowadays before she trusts 'erself to say whether it's +beef or mutton she's eating! And now 'ere's you, love, carted off with +never a with-your-leave or by-your-leave, just because the doctor's +tired of it and thinks 'e'd like a change. There's no question of +whether you're tired or not—oh, my, no!" +</P> + +<P> +"But he has to earn the money, Tilly. It isn't quite fair to put it +that way," protested her friend. +</P> + +<P> +"Well! I don't know, Mary, I'm sure," and Tilly's plump person rose and +sank in a prodigious sigh. "But if I was 'is wife 'e wouldn't get off +so easy—I know that! It makes me just boil." +</P> + +<P> +Mary answered with a rueful smile. She could never be angry with +Richard in cold blood, or for long together. +</P> + +<P> +As time went on, though, and the break-up of her home began—by the +auctioneer's man appearing to paw over and appraise the furniture—a +certain dull resentment did sometimes come uppermost. Under its sway +she had forcibly to remind herself what a good husband Richard had +always been; had to tell off his qualities one by one, instead of +taking them as hitherto for granted. No, her quarrel, she began to see, +was not so much with him as with the Powers above. Why should HER +husband alone not be as robust and hardy as all the other husbands in +the place? None of THEIR healths threatened to fail, nor did any of +them find the conditions of the life intolerable. That was another +shabby trick Fate had played Richard in not endowing him with worldly +wisdom, and a healthy itch to succeed. Instead of that, he had been +blessed with ideas and impulses that stood directly in his way.—And it +was here that Mary bore more than one of her private ambitions for him +to its grave. A new expression came into her eyes, too—an unsure, +baffled look. Life was not, after all, going to be the simple, +straightforward affair she had believed. Thus far, save for the one +unhappy business with Purdy, wrongs and complications had passed her +by. Now she saw that no more than anyone else could she hope to escape +them. +</P> + +<P> +Out of this frame of mind she wrote a long, confidential letter to +John: John must not be left in ignorance of what hung over her; it was +also a relief to unbosom herself to one of her own family. And John was +good enough to travel up expressly to talk things over with her, and, +as he put it, to "call Richard to order." Like every one else he showed +the whites of his eyes at the latter's flimsy reasons for seeking a +change. But when, in spite of her warning, he bearded his +brother-in-law with a jocose and hearty: "Come, come, my dear Mahony! +what's all this? You're actually thinking of giving us the slip?" +Richard took his interference so badly, became so agitated over the +head of the harmless question that John's airy remonstrance died in his +throat. +</P> + +<P> +"Mad as a March hare!" was his private verdict, as he shook down his +ruffled plumes. To Mary he said ponderously: "Well, upon my soul, my +dear girl, I don't know—I am frankly at a loss what to say. Measured +by every practical standard, the step he contemplates is little short +of suicidal. I fear he will live to regret it." +</P> + +<P> +And Mary, who had not expected anything from John's intervention, and +also knew the grounds for Richard's heat—Mary now resigned herself, +with the best grace she could muster, to the inevitable. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0412"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XII +</H3> + +<P> +House and practice sold for a good round sum; the brass plates were +removed from gate and door, leaving dirty squares flanked by +screw-holes; carpets came up and curtains down; and, like rats from a +doomed ship, men and women servants fled to other situations. One fine +day the auctioneer's bell was rung through the main streets of the +town; and both on this and the next, when the red flag flew in front of +the house, a troop of intending purchasers, together with an even +larger number of the merely curious, streamed in at the gate and +overran the premises. At noon the auctioneer mounted his perch, +gathered the crowd round him, and soon had the sale in full swing, +catching head-bobs, or wheedling and insisting with, when persuasion +could do no more, his monotonous parrot-cry of: "Going... going ... +gone!" +</P> + +<P> +It would have been in bad taste for either husband or wife to be +visible while the auction was in progress; and, the night before, Mary +and the child had moved to Tilly's, where they would stay for the rest +of the time. But Mahony was still hard at work. The job of winding up +and getting in the money owed him was no light one. For the report had +somehow got abroad that he was retiring from practice because he had +made his fortune; and only too many people took this as a tacit +permission to leave their bills unpaid. +</P> + +<P> +He had locked himself and his account-books into a small back room, +where stood the few articles they had picked out to carry with them: +Mary's sewing-table, his first gift to her after marriage; their modest +stock of silver; his medical library. But he had been forced to lower +the blind, to hinder impertinent noses flattening themselves against +the window, and thus could scarcely see to put pen to paper; while the +auctioneer's grating voice was a constant source of distraction—not to +mention the rude comments made by the crowd on house and furniture, the +ceaseless trying of the handle of the locked door. +</P> + +<P> +When it came to the point, this tearing up of one's roots was a +murderous business—nothing for a man of his temperament. Mary was a +good deal better able to stand it than he. Violently as she had opposed +the move in the beginning, she was now, dear soul, putting a cheery +face on it. But then Mary belonged to that happy class of mortals who +could set up their Lares and Penates inside any four walls. Whereas he +was a very slave to associations. Did she regret parting with a pretty +table and a comfortable chair, it was soley because of the prettiness +and convenience: as long as she could replace them by other articles of +the same kind, she was content. But to him each familiar object was +bound by a thousand memories. And it was the loss of these which could +never be replaced that cut him to the quick. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile this was the kind of thing he had to listen to. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ere now, ladies and gents, we 'ave a very fine pier glass—a very +chaste and tasty pier glass indeed—a red addition to any lady's +drawin'room.—Mrs. Rupp? Do I understand you aright, Mrs. Rupp? Mrs. +Rupp offers twelve bob for this very 'andsome article. Twelve bob ... +going twelve.... Fifteen? Thank you, Mrs. Bromby! Going fifteen ... +going—going—Eighteen? Right you are, my dear!" and so on. +</P> + +<P> +It had a history had that pier glass; its purchase dated from a time in +their lives when they had been forced to turn each shilling in the +palm. Mary had espied it one day in Plaistows' Stores, and had set her +heart on buying it. How she had schemed to scrape the money +together!—saving so much on a new gown, so much on bonnet and mantle. +He remembered, as if it were yesterday, the morning on which she had +burst in, eyes and cheeks aglow, to tell him that she had managed it at +last, and how they had gone off arm in arm to secure the prize. Yes, +for all their poverty, those had been happy days. Little extravagances +such as this, or the trifling gifts they had contrived to make each +other had given far more pleasure than the costlier presents of later +years. +</P> + +<P> +"The next article I draw your attention to is a sofer," went on the +voice, sounding suddenly closer; and with a great trampling and +shuffling the crowd trooped after it to the adjoining room. "And a very +easy and comfortable piece o' furniture it is, too. A bit shabby and +worn 'ere and there, but not any the worse of that. You don't need to +worry if the kids play puff-puffs on it; and it fits the shape o' the +body all the better.—Any one like to try it? Jest the very thing for a +tired gent 'ome from biz, or 'andy to pop your lady on when she +faints—as the best of ladies will! Any h'offers? Mr. de la +Plastrier"—he said "Deelay plastreer"—"a guinea? Thank you, mister. +One guinea! Going a guinea!—Now, COME on, ladies and gen'elmen! D'ye +think I've got a notion to make you a present of it? What's that? +Two-and-twenty? Gawd! Is this a tiddlin' match?" +</P> + +<P> +How proud he had been of that sofa! In his first surgery he had had +nowhere to lay an aching head. Well worn? Small wonder! He would like +to know how many hundreds of times he had flung himself down on it, +utterly played out. He had been used to lie there of an evening, too, +when Mary came in to chat about household affairs, or report on her +day's doings. And he remembered another time, when he had spent the +last hours of a distracted night on it ... and how, between sleeping +and waking, he had strained his ears for footsteps that never came. +</P> + +<P> +The sofa was knocked down to his butcher for a couple of pounds, and +the crying—or decrying—of his bookcases began. He could stand no more +of it. Sweeping his papers into a bag, he guiltily unlocked the door +and stole out by way of kitchen and back gate. +</P> + +<P> +But once outside he did not know where to go or what to do. Leaving the +town behind him he made for the Lake, and roved aimlessly and +disconsolately about, choosing sheltered paths and remote roads where +he would be unlikely to run the gauntlet of acquaintances. For he +shrank from recognition on this particular day, when all his domestic +privacies were being bared to the public view. But altogether of late +he had fought shy of meeting people. Their hard, matter-of-fact faces +showed him only too plainly what they thought of him. At first he had +been fool enough to scan them eagerly, in the hope of finding one +saving touch of sympathy or comprehension. But he might as well have +looked for grief in the eyes of an undertaker's mute. And so he had +shrunk back into himself, wearing his stiffest air as a shield and +leaving it to Mary to parry colonial inquisitiveness. +</P> + +<P> +When he reckoned that he had allowed time enough for the disposal of +the last pots and pans, he rose and made his way—well, the word "home" +was by now become a mere figure of speech. He entered a scene of the +wildest confusion. The actual sale was over, but the work of stripping +the house only begun, and successful bidders were dragging off their +spoils. His glass-fronted bookcase had been got as far as the +surgery-door. There it had stuck fast; and an angry altercation was +going on, how best to set it free. A woman passed him bearing Mary's +girandoles; another had the dining-room clock under her arm; a third +trailed a whatnot after her. To the palings of the fence several carts +and buggies had been hitched, and the horses were eating down his +neatly clipped hedge—it was all he could do not to rush out and call +their owners to account. The level sunrays flooded the rooms, showing +up hitherto unnoticed smudges and scratches on the wall-papers; showing +the prints of hundreds of dusty feet on the carpetless floors. Voices +echoed in hollow fashion through the naked rooms; men shouted and spat +as they tugged heavy articles along the hall, or bumped them down the +stairs. It was pandemonium. The death of a loved human being could not, +he thought, have been more painful to witness. Thus a home went to +pieces; thus was a page of one's life turned.—He hastened away to +rejoin Mary. +</P> + +<P> +There followed a week of Mrs. Tilly's somewhat stifling hospitality, +when one was forced three times a day to over-eat oneself for fear of +giving offence; followed formal presentations of silver and plate from +Masonic Lodge and District Hospital, as well as a couple of public +testimonials got up by his medical brethren. But at length all was +over: the last visit had been paid and received, the last evening party +in their honour sat through; and Mahony breathed again. He had felt +stiff and unnatural under this overdose of demonstrativeness. Now—as +always on sighting relief from a state of things that irked him—he +underwent a sudden change, turned hearty and spontaneous, thus +innocently succeeding in leaving a good impression behind him. He kept +his temper, too, in all the fuss and ado of departure: the running to +and fro after missing articles, the sitting on the lids of overflowing +trunks, the strapping of carpet-bags, affixing of labels. Their luggage +hoisted into a spring-cart, they themselves took their seats in the +buggy and were driven to the railway station; and to himself Mahony +murmured an all's-well—that-ends-well. On alighting, however, he found +that his greatcoat had been forgotten. He had to re-seat himself in the +buggy and gallop back to the house, arriving at the station only just +in time to leap into the train. +</P> + +<P> +"A close shave that!" he ejaculated as he sank on the cushions and +wiped his face. "And in more senses than one, my dear. In tearing round +a corner we nearly had a nasty spill. Had I pitched out and broken my +neck, this hole would have got my bones after all.—Not that I was +sorry to miss that cock-and-hen-show, Mary. It was really too much of a +good thing altogether." +</P> + +<P> +For a large and noisy crowd had gathered round the door of the carriage +to wish the travellers god-speed, among them people to whom Mahony +could not even put a name, whose very existence he had forgotten. And +it had fairly snowed last gifts and keepsakes. Drying her eyes, Mary +now set to collecting and arranging these. "Just fancy so many turning +up, dear. The railway people must have wondered what was the +matter.—Oh, by the way, did you notice—I don't think you did, you +were in such a rush—who I was speaking to as you ran up? It was Jim, +Old Jim, but so changed I hardly knew him. As spruce as could be, in a +black coat and a belltopper. He's married again, he told me, and has +one of the best-paying hotels in Smythesdale. Yes, and he was at the +sale, too—he came over specially for it—to buy the piano." +</P> + +<P> +"He did, confound him!" cried Mahony hotly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you can't look at it that way, Richard. As long as he has the +money to pay for it. Fancy, he told me had always admired the 'tune' of +it so much, when I played and sang. My dear little piano!" +</P> + +<P> +"You shall have another and a better one, I promise you, old +girl—don't fret. Well, that slice of our life's over and done with," +he added, and laid his hand on hers. "But we'll hold together, won't +we, wife, whatever happens?" +</P> + +<P> +They had passed Black Hill and its multicoloured clay and gravel heaps, +and the train was puffing uphill. The last scattered huts and +weatherboards fell behind, the worked-out holes grew fewer, wooded +rises appeared. Gradually, too, the white roads round Mount Buninyong +came into view, and the trees became denser. And having climbed the +shoulder, they began to fly smoothly and rapidly down the other side. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony bent forward in his seat. "There goes the last of old +Warrenheip. Thank the Lord, I shall never set eyes on it again. Upon my +word, I believe I came to think that hill the most tiresome feature of +the place. Whatever street one turned into, up it bobbed at the foot. +Like a peep-show ... or a bad dream ... or a prison wall." +</P> + +<P> +In Melbourne they were the guests of John—Mahony had reluctantly +resigned himself to being beholden to Mary's relatives and Mary's +friends to the end of the chapter. At best, living in other people's +houses was for him more of a punishment than a pleasure; but for sheer +discomfort this stay capped the climax. Under Zara's incompetent rule +John's home had degenerated into a lawless and slovenly abode: the +meals were unpalatable, the servants pert and lazy, while the children +ran wild—you could hardly hear yourself speak for the racket. Whenever +possible, Mahony fled the house. He lunched in town, looked up his +handful of acquaintances, bought necessaries—and unnecessaries—for +the voyage. He also hired a boat and had himself rowed out to the ship, +where he clambered on board amid the mess of scouring and painting, and +made himself known to the chief mate. Or he sat on the pier and gazed +at the vessel lying straining at her anchor, while quick rain-squalls +swept up and blotted out the Bay. +</P> + +<P> +Of Mary he caught but passing glimpses; her family seemed determined to +make unblushing use of her as long as she was within reach. A couple of +days prior to their arrival, John and Zara had quarrelled violently; +and for the dozenth time Zara had packed her trunks and departed for +one of those miraculous situations, the doors of which always stood +open to her. +</P> + +<P> +John was for Mary going after her and forcing her to admit the error of +her ways. Mary held it wiser to let well alone. +</P> + +<P> +"DO be guided by me this time, John," she urged, when she had heard her +brother out: "You and Zara will never hit it off, however often you +try." +</P> + +<P> +But the belief was ingrained in John that the most suitable head for +his establishment was one of his own blood. He answered indignantly. +"And why not pray, may I ask? Who IS to hit it off, as you put it, if +not two of a family?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, John... "—Mary felt quite apologetic for her brother. "Clever as +Zara is, she's not at all fitted for a post of this kind. She's no hand +with the servants, and children don't seem to take to her—young +children, I mean." +</P> + +<P> +"Not fitted? Bah!" said John. "Every woman is fitted by nature to rear +children and manage a house." +</P> + +<P> +"They should be, I know," yielded Mary in conciliatory fashion. "But +with Zara it doesn't seem to be the case." +</P> + +<P> +"Then she ought to be ashamed of herself, my dear Mary—ashamed of +herself—and that's all about it!" +</P> + +<P> +Zara wept into a dainty handkerchief and was delivered of a rigmarole +of complaints against her brother, the servants, the children. +According to her, the last were naturally perverse, and John indulged +them so shockingly that she had been powerless to carry out reforms. +Did she punish them, he cancelled the punishments; if she left their +naughtiness unchecked, he accused her of indifference. Then her +housekeeping had not suited him: he reproached her with extravagance, +with mismanagement, even with lining her own purse. "While the truth +is, John is mean as dirt! I had literally to drag each penny out of +him." +</P> + +<P> +"But what ever induced you to undertake it again, Zara?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, what indeed!" echoed Zara bitterly. "However, once bitten, Mary, +twice shy. NEVER again!" +</P> + +<P> +But remembering the bites Zara had already received, Mary was silent. +</P> + +<P> +Even Zara's amateurish hand thus finally withdrawn, it became Mary's +task to find some worthy and capable person to act as mistress. Taking +her obligations seriously, she devoted her last days in Australia to +conning and penning advertisements, and interviewing applicants. +</P> + +<P> +"Now no one too attractive, if you please, Mrs. Mahony!—if you don't +want him to fall a victim," teased Richard. "Remember our good John's +inflammability. He's a very Leyden jar again at present." +</P> + +<P> +"No, indeed I don't," said Mary with emphasis. "But the children are +the first consideration. Oh, dear! it does seem a shame that Tilly +shouldn't have them to look after. And it would relieve John of so much +responsibility. As it is, he's even asked me to make it plain to Tilly +that he wishes Trotty to spend her holidays at school." +</P> + +<P> +The forsaking of the poor little motherless flock cut Mary to the +heart. Trotty had dung to her, inconsolable. "Oh, Auntie, TAKE me with +you! Oh, what shall I do without you?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's not possible, darling. Your papa would never agree. But I tell +you what, Trotty: you must be a good girl and make haste and learn all +you can. For soon, I'm sure, he'll want you to come and be his little +housekeeper, and look after the other children." +</P> + +<P> +Sounded on this subject, however, John said dryly: "Emma's influence +would be undesirable for the little ones." His prejudice in favour of +his second wife's children was an eternal riddle to his sister. He +dandled even the youngest, whom he had not seen since its birth, with +visible pleasure. +</P> + +<P> +"It must be the black eyes," said Mary to herself; and shook her head +at men's irrationality. For Jinny's offspring had none of the grace and +beauty that marked the two elder children. +</P> + +<P> +And now the last night had come; and they were gathered, a family +party, round John's mahogany. The cloth had been removed; nuts and port +were passing. As it was a unique occasion the ladies had been excused +from withdrawing, and the gentlemen left their cigars unlighted. Mary's +eyes roved fondly from one face to another. There was Tilly, come over +from her hotel—("Nothing would induce me to spend a night under his +roof, Mary")—Tilly sat hugging one of the children, who had run in for +the almonds and raisins of dessert. "What a mother lost in her!" sighed +Mary once more. There was Zara, so far reconciled to her brother as to +consent to be present; but only speaking at him, not to him. And dear +Jerry, eager and alert, taking so intelligent a share in what was said. +Poor Ned alone was wanting, neither Richard nor John having offered to +pay his fare to town. Young Johnny's seat was vacant, too, for the boy +had vanished directly dinner was over. +</P> + +<P> +In the harmony of the evening there was just one jarring note for Mary; +and at moments she grew very thoughtful. For the first time Mrs. Kelly, +the motherly widow on whom her choice had fallen, sat opposite John at +the head of the table; and already Mary was the prey of a nagging +doubt. For this person had doffed the neat mourning-garb she had worn +when being engaged, and come forth in a cap trimmed with cherry +coloured ribbons. Not only this, she smiled in sugary fashion and far +too readily; while the extreme humility with which she deferred to +John's opinion, and hung on his lips, made another bad impression on +Mary. Nor was she alone in her observations. After a particularly +glaring example of the widow's complaisance, Tilly looked across and +shut one eye, in an unmistakable wink. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile the men's talk had gradually petered out: there came long +pauses in which they twiddled and twirled their wine-glasses, unable to +think of anything to say. At heart, both John and Mahony hailed with a +certain relief the coming break. "After all I dare say such a queer +faddy fellow IS out of his element here. He'll go down better over +there," was John's mental verdict. Mahony's, a characteristic: "Thank +God, I shall not have to put up much longer with his confounded +self-importance, or suffer under his matrimonial muddles!" +</P> + +<P> +When at a question from Mary John began animatedly to discuss the +tuition of the younger children, Mahony seized the chance to slip away. +He would not be missed. He never was—here or anywhere. +</P> + +<P> +On the verandah a dark form stirred and made a hasty movement. It was +the boy Johnny—now grown tall as Mahony himself—and, to judge from +the smell, what he tried to smuggle into his pocket was a briar. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh well, yes, I'm smoking," he said sullenly, after a feeble attempt +at evasion. "Go in and blab on me, if you feel you must, Uncle Richard." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense. But telling fibs about a thing does no good." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, it does; it saves a hiding," retorted the boy. And added with +a youthful vehemence: "I'm hanged if I let the governor take a stick to +me nowadays! I'm turned sixteen; and if he dares to touch me—" +</P> + +<P> +"Come, come. You know, you've been something of a disappointment to +your father, Johnny—that's the root of the trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"Glad if I have! He hates me anyway. He never cared for my mother's +children," answered Johnny with a quaint dignity. "I think he couldn't +have cared for her either." +</P> + +<P> +"There you're wrong. He was devoted to her. Her death nearly broke his +heart.—She was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, my +boy." +</P> + +<P> +"Was she?" said Johnny civilly, but with meagre interest. This long +dead mother had bequeathed him not even a memory of herself—was as +unreal to him as a dream at second hand. From the chilly contemplation +of her he turned back impatiently to his own affairs, which were +burning, insistent. And scenting a vague sympathy in this stranger +uncle who, like himself, had drifted out from the intimacy of the +candle-lit room, he made a clean breast of his troubles. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't stand the life here, Uncle Richard, and I'm not going to—not +if father cuts me off with a shilling! I mean to see the world. THIS +isn't the world—this dead-and-alive old country! ... though it's got +to seem like it to the governor, he's been here so long. And HE cleared +out from his before he was even as old as I am. Of course there isn't +another blessed old Australia for me to decamp to; he might be a bit +sweeter about it, if there was. But America's good enough for me, and +I'm off there—yes, even if I have to work my passage out!" +</P> + +<P> +Early next morning, fully equipped for their journey, the Mahonys stood +on the William's Town pier, the centre of the usual crowd of relatives +and friends. This had been further swelled by the advent of Mrs. +Devine, who came panting up followed by her husband, and by Agnes Ocock +and Amelia Grindle, who had contrived to reach Melbourne the previous +evening. Even John's children were tacked on, clad in their Sunday +best. Everybody talked at once and laughed or wept; while the children +played hide-and-seek round the ladies' crinolines. Strange eyes were +bent on their party, strange ears cocked in their direction; and yet +once again Mahony's dislike to a commotion in public choked off his +gratitude towards these good and kindly people. But his star was +rising: tears and farewells and vows of constancy had to be cut short, +a jaunt planned by the whole company to the ship itself abandoned; for +a favourable wind had sprung up and the captain was impatient to weigh +anchor. And so the very last kisses and handclasps exchanged, the +travellers climbed down into a boat already deep in the water with +other cuddy-passengers and their luggage, and were rowed out to where +lay that good clipper-ship, the RED JACKET. Sitting side by side +husband and wife watched, with feelings that had little in common, the +receding quay, Mary fluttering her damp handkerchief till the separate +figures had merged in one dark mass, and even Tilly, planted in front, +her handkerchief tied flagwise to the top of Jerry's cane, could no +longer be distinguished from the rest. +</P> + +<P> +Mahony's foot met the ribbed teak of the deck with the liveliest +satisfaction; his nostrils drank in the smell of tarred ropes and oiled +brass. Having escorted Mary below, seen to the stowing away of their +belongings and changed his town clothes for a set of comfortable baggy +garments, he returned to the deck, where he passed the greater part of +the day tirelessly pacing. They made good headway, and soon the ports +and towns at the water's edge were become mere whitey smudges. The +hills in the background lasted longer. But first the Macedon group +faded from sight; then the Dandenong Ranges, grown bluer and bluer, +were also lost in the sky. The vessel crept round the outside of the +great Bay, to clear shoals and sandbanks, and, by afternoon, with the +sails close rigged in the freshening wind, they were running parallel +with the Cliff—"THE Cliff!" thought Mahony with a curl of the lip. And +indeed there was no other; nothing but low scrub-grown sandhills which +flattened out till they were almost level with the sea. +</P> + +<P> +The passage through the Heads was at hand. Impulsively he went down to +fetch Mary. Threading his way through the saloon, in the middle of +which grew up one of the masts, he opened a door leading off it. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on deck, my dear, and take your last look at the old place. It's +not likely you'll ever see it again." +</P> + +<P> +But Mary was already encoffined in her narrow berth. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't ask me even to lift my head from the pillow, Richard. Besides, +I've seen it so often before." +</P> + +<P> +He lingered to make some arrangements for her comfort, fidgeted to know +where she had put his books; then mounted a locker and craned his neck +at the porthole. "Now for the Rip, wife! By God, Mary, I little thought +this time last year, that I should be crossing it to-day." +</P> + +<P> +But the cabin was too dark and small to hold him. Climbing the steep +companion-way he went on deck again, and resumed his flittings to and +fro. He was no more able to be still than was the good ship under him; +he felt himself one with her, and gloried in her growing unrest. She +was now come to the narrow channel between two converging headlands, +where the waters of Hobson's Bay met those of the open sea. They boiled +and churned, in an eternal commotion, over treacherous reefs which +thrust far out below the surface and were betrayed by straight, white +lines of foam. Once safely out, the vessel hove to to drop the pilot. +Leaning over the gunwale Mahony watched a boat come alongside, the man +of oilskins climb down the rope-ladder and row away. +</P> + +<P> +Here, in the open, a heavy swell was running, but he kept his foot on +the swaying boards long after the last of his fellow-passengers had +vanished—a tall, thin figure, with an eager, pointed face, and hair +just greying at the temples. Contrary to habit, he had a word for every +one who passed, from mate to cabin-boy, and he drank a glass of wine +with the Captain in his cabin. Their start had been auspicious, said +the latter; seldom had he had such a fair wind to come out with. +</P> + +<P> +Then the sun fell into the sea and it was night—a fine, starry night, +clear with the hard, cold radiance of the south. Mahony looked up at +the familiar constellations and thought of those others, long missed, +that he was soon to see again.—Over! This page of his history was +turned and done with; and he had every reason to feel thankful. For +many and many a man, though escaping with his life, had left youth and +health and hope on these difficult shores. He had got off scot-free. +Still in his prime, his faculties green, his zest for living +unimpaired, he was heading for the dear old mother country—for home. +Alone and unaided he could never have accomplished it. Strength to will +the enterprise, steadfastness in the face of obstacles had been lent +him from above. And as he stood gazing down into the black and +fathomless deep, which sent crafty, licking tongues up the vessel's +side, he freely acknowledged his debt, gave honour where honour was +due.—FROM THEE COMETH VICTORY, FROM THEE COMETH WISDOM, AND THINE IS +THE GLORY AND I AM THY SERVANT. +</P> + +<P> +The last spark of a coast-light went out. Buffeted by the rising wind, +the good ship began to pitch and roll. Her canvas rattled, her joints +creaked and groaned as, lunging forward, she cut her way through the +troubled seas that break on the reef-bound coasts of this old, new +world. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Australia Felix, by Henry Handel Richardson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUSTRALIA FELIX *** + +***** This file should be named 3832-h.htm or 3832-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/3/3832/ + +Produced by Col Choat. 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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: Australia Felix + +Author: Henry Handel Richardson + +Posting Date: June 20, 2009 [EBook #3832] +Release Date: February, 2003 +First Posted: October 1, 2001 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUSTRALIA FELIX *** + + + + +Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + +Australia Felix + + +by + +Henry Handel Richardson + + + + + +PROEM + + +In a shaft on the Gravel Pits, a man had been buried alive. At work in +a deep wet hole, he had recklessly omitted to slab the walls of a +drive; uprights and tailors yielded under the lateral pressure, and the +rotten earth collapsed, bringing down the roof in its train. The digger +fell forward on his face, his ribs jammed across his pick, his arms +pinned to his sides, nose and mouth pressed into the sticky mud as into +a mask; and over his defenceless body, with a roar that burst his +ear-drums, broke stupendous masses of earth. + +His mates at the windlass went staggering back from the belch of +violently discharged air: it tore the wind-sail to strips, sent stones +and gravel flying, loosened planks and props. Their shouts drawing no +response, the younger and nimbler of the two--he was a mere boy, for +all his amazing growth of beard--put his foot in the bucket and went +down on the rope, kicking off the sides of the shaft with his free +foot. A group of diggers, gathering round the pit-head, waited for the +tug at the rope. It was quick in coming; and the lad was hauled to the +surface. No hope: both drives had fallen in; the bottom of the shaft +was blocked. The crowd melted with a "Poor Bill--God rest his soul!" or +with a silent shrug. Such accidents were not infrequent; each man might +thank his stars it was not he who lay cooling down below. And so, since +no more washdirt would be raised from this hole, the party that worked +it made off for the nearest grog-shop, to wet their throats to the +memory of the dead, and to discuss future plans. + +All but one: a lean and haggard-looking man of some five and forty, who +was known to his comrades as Long Jim. On hearing his mate's report he +had sunk heavily down on a log, and there he sat, a pannikin of raw +spirit in his hand, the tears coursing ruts down cheeks scabby with +yellow mud, his eyes glassy as marbles with those that had still to +fall. + +He wept, not for the dead man, but for himself. This accident was the +last link in a chain of ill-luck that had been forging ever since he +first followed the diggings. He only needed to put his hand to a thing, +and luck deserted it. In all the sinkings he had been connected with, +he had not once caught his pick in a nugget or got the run of the +gutter; the "bottoms" had always proved barren, drives been exhausted +without his raising the colour. At the present claim he and his mates +had toiled for months, overcoming one difficulty after another. The +slabbing, for instance, had cost them infinite trouble; it was roughly +done, too, and, even after the pins were in, great flakes of earth +would come tumbling down from between the joints, on one occasion +nearly knocking silly the man who was below. Then, before they had +slabbed a depth of three times nine, they had got into water, and in +this they worked for the next sixty feet. They were barely rid of it, +when the two adjoining claims were abandoned, and in came the flood +again--this time they had to fly for their lives before it, so rapid +was its rise. Not the strongest man could stand in this ice-cold water +for more than three days on end--the bark slabs stank in it, too, like +the skins in a tanner's yard--and they had been forced to quit work +till it subsided. He and another man had gone to the hills, to hew +trees for more slabs; the rest to the grog-shop. From there, when it +was feasible to make a fresh start, they had to be dragged, some blind +drunk, the rest blind stupid from their booze. That had been the +hardest job of any: keeping the party together. They had only been +eight in all--a hand-to-mouth number for a deep wet hole. Then, one had +died of dysentery, contracted from working constantly in water up to +his middle; another had been nabbed in a manhunt and clapped into the +"logs." And finally, but a day or two back, the three men who completed +the nightshift had deserted for a new "rush" to the Avoca. Now, his pal +had gone, too. There was nothing left for him, Long Jim, to do, but to +take his dish and turn fossicker; or even to aim no higher than washing +over the tailings rejected by the fossicker. + +At the thought his tears flowed anew. He cursed the day on which he had +first set foot on Ballarat. + +"It's 'ell for white men--'ell, that's what it is!" + +"'Ere, 'ave another drink, matey, and fergit yer bloody troubles." + +His re-filled pannikin drained, he grew warmer round the heart; and +sang the praises of his former life. He had been a lamplighter in the +old country, and for many years had known no more arduous task than +that of tramping round certain streets three times daily, ladder on +shoulder, bitch at heel, to attend the little flames that helped to +dispel the London dark. And he might have jogged on at this up to three +score years and ten, had he never lent an ear to the tales that were +being told of a wonderful country, where, for the mere act of stooping, +and with your naked hand, you could pick up a fortune from the ground. +Might the rogues who had spread these lies be damned to all eternity! +Then, he had swallowed them only too willingly; and, leaving the old +woman wringing her hands, had taken every farthing of his savings and +set sail for Australia. That was close on three years ago. For all he +knew, his wife might be dead and buried by this time; or sitting in the +almshouse. She could not write, and only in the early days had an +occasional newspaper reached him, on which, alongside the Queen's head, +she had put the mark they had agreed on, to show that she was still +alive. He would probably never see her again, but would end his days +where he was. Well, they wouldn't be many; this was not a place that +made old bones. And, as he sat, worked on by grief and liquor, he was +seized by a desperate homesickness for the old country. Why had he ever +been fool enough to leave it? He shut his eyes, and all the well-known +sights and sounds of the familiar streets came back to him. He saw +himself on his rounds of a winter's afternoon, when each lamp had a +halo in the foggy air; heard the pit-pat of his four-footer behind him, +the bump of the ladder against the prong of the lamp-post. His friend +the policeman's glazed stovepipe shone out at the corner; from the +distance came the tinkle of the muffin-man's bell, the cries of the +buy-a-brooms. He remembered the glowing charcoal in the stoves of the +chestnut and potato sellers; the appetising smell of the cooked-fish +shops; the fragrant steam of the hot, dark coffee at the twopenny +stall, when he had turned shivering out of bed; he sighed for the +lights and jollity of the "Hare and Hounds" on a Saturday night. He +would never see anything of the kind again. No; here, under bare blue +skies, out of which the sun frizzled you alive; here, where it couldn't +rain without at once being a flood; where the very winds blew +contrarily, hot from the north and bitter-chill from the south; where, +no matter how great the heat by day, the night would as likely as not +be nipping cold: here he was doomed to end his life, and to end it, for +all the yellow sunshine, more hopelessly knotted and gnarled with +rheumatism than if, dawn after dawn, he had gone out in a cutting +north-easter, or groped his way through the grey fog-mists sent up by +grey Thames. + +Thus he sat and brooded, all the hatred of the unwilling exile for the +land that gives him house-room burning in his breast. + +Who the man was, who now lay deep in a grave that fitted him as a glove +fits the hand, careless of the pass to which he had brought his mate; +who this really was, Long Jim knew no more than the rest. Young Bill +had never spoken out. They had chummed together on the seventy-odd-mile +tramp from Melbourne; had boiled a common billy and slept side by side +in rain-soaked blankets, under the scanty hair of a she-oak. That was +in the days of the first great stampede to the goldfields, when the +embryo seaports were as empty as though they were plague-ridden, and +every man who had the use of his legs was on the wide bush-track, bound +for the north. It was better to be two than one in this medley of +bullock-teams, lorries, carts and pack-horses, of dog-teams, +wheelbarrows and swagmen, where the air rang with oaths, shouts and +hammering hoofs, with whip-cracking and bullock-prodding; in this +hurly-burly of thieves, bushrangers and foreigners, of drunken convicts +and deserting sailors, of slit-eyed Chinese and apt-handed Lascars, of +expirees and ticket-of-leave men, of Jews, Turks and other infidels. +Long Jim, himself stunned by it all: by the pother of landing and of +finding a roof to cover him; by the ruinous price of bare necessaries; +by the length of this unheard-of walk that lay before his town-bred +feet: Long Jim had gladly accepted the young man's company on the road. +Originally, for no more than this; at heart he distrusted Young Bill, +because of his fine-gentleman airs, and intended shaking the lad off as +soon as they reached the diggings. There, a man must, for safety's +sake, be alone, when he stooped to pick up his fortune. But at first +sight of the strange, wild scene that met his eyes he hastily changed +his mind. And so the two of them had stuck together; and he had never +had cause to regret it. For all his lily-white hands and finical speech +Young Bill had worked like a nigger, standing by his mate through the +latter's disasters; had worked till the ladyish hands were horny with +warts and corns, and this, though he was doubled up with dysentery in +the hot season, and racked by winter cramps. But the life had proved +too hard for him, all the same. During the previous summer he had begun +to drink--steadily, with the dogged persistence that was in him--and +since then his work had gone downhill. His sudden death had only been a +hastening-on of the inevitable. Staggering home to the tent after +nightfall he would have been sure, sooner or later, to fall into a dry +shicer and break his neck, or into a wet one and be drowned. + +On the surface of the Gravel Pit his fate was already forgotten. The +rude activity of a gold-diggings in full swing had closed over the +incident, swallowed it up. + +Under a sky so pure and luminous that it seemed like a thinly drawn +veil of blueness, which ought to have been transparent, stretched what, +from a short way off, resembled a desert of pale clay. No patch of +green offered rest to the eye; not a tree, hardly a stunted bush had +been left standing, either on the bottom of the vast shallow basin +itself, or on the several hillocks that dotted it and formed its sides. +Even the most prominent of these, the Black Hill, which jutted out on +the Flat like a gigantic tumulus, had been stripped of its dense +timber, feverishly disembowelled, and was now become a bald +protuberance strewn with gravel and clay. The whole scene had that +strange, repellent ugliness that goes with breaking up and throwing +into disorder what has been sanctified as final, and belongs, in +particular, to the wanton disturbing of earth's gracious, green-spread +crust. In the pre-golden era this wide valley, lying open to sun and +wind, had been a lovely grassland, ringed by a circlet of wooded hills; +beyond these, by a belt of virgin forest. A limpid river and more than +one creek had meandered across its face; water was to be found there +even in the driest summer. She-oaks and peppermint had given shade to +the flocks of the early settlers; wattles had bloomed their brief +delirious yellow passion against the grey-green foliage of the gums. +Now, all that was left of the original "pleasant resting-place" and its +pristine beauty were the ancient volcanic cones of Warrenheip and +Buninyong. These, too far off to supply wood for firing or slabbing, +still stood green and timbered, and looked down upon the havoc that had +been made of the fair, pastoral lands. + +Seen nearer at hand, the dun-coloured desert resolved itself into +uncountable pimpling clay and mud-heaps, of divers shade and varying +sizes: some consisted of but a few bucketfuls of mullock, others were +taller than the tallest man. There were also hundreds of rain-soaked, +mud-bespattered tents, sheds and awnings; wind-sails, which fell, +funnel-like, from a kind of gallows into the shafts they ventilated; +flags fluttering on high posts in front of stores. The many human +figures that went to and fro were hardly to be distinguished from the +ground they trod. They were coated with earth, clay-clad in ochre and +gamboge. Their faces were daubed with clauber; it matted great beards, +and entangled the coarse hairs on chests and brawny arms. Where, here +and there, a blue jumper had kept a tinge of blueness, it was so +besmeared with yellow that it might have been expected to turn green. +The gauze neck-veils that hung from the brims of wide-awakes or +cabbage-trees were become stiff little lattices of caked clay. + +There was water everywhere. From the spurs and gullies round about, the +autumn rains had poured freely down on the Flat; river and creeks had +been over their banks; and such narrow ground-space as remained between +the thick-sown tents, the myriads of holes that abutted one on another, +jealous of every inch of space, had become a trough of mud. Water +meandered over this mud, or carved its soft way in channels; it lay +about in puddles, thick and dark as coffee-grounds; it filled abandoned +shallow holes to the brim. + +From this scene rose a blurred hum of sound; rose and as it were +remained stationary above it--like a smoke-cloud, which no wind comes +to drive away. Gradually, though, the ear made out, in the conglomerate +of noise, a host of separate noises infinitely multiplied: the sharp +tick-tick of surface-picks, the dull thud of shovels, their muffled +echoes from the depths below. There was also the continuous squeak and +groan of windlasses; the bump of the mullock emptied from the bucket; +the trundle of wheelbarrows, pushed along a plank from the shaft's +mouth to the nearest pool; the dump of the dart on the heap for +washing. Along the banks of a creek, hundreds of cradles rattled and +grated; the noise of the spades, chopping the gravel into the +puddling-tubs or the Long Toms, was like the scrunch of shingle under +waves. The fierce yelping of the dogs chained to the flag-posts of +stores, mongrels which yapped at friend and foe alike, supplied a note +of earsplitting discord. + +But except for this it was a wholly mechanical din. Human brains +directed operations, human hands carried them out, but the sound of the +human voice was, for the most part, lacking. The diggers were a sombre, +preoccupied race, little given to lip-work. Even the "shepherds," who, +in waiting to see if their neighbours struck the lead, beguiled the +time with euchre and "lambskinnet," played moodily, their mouths glued +to their pipe-stems; they were tail-on-end to fling down the cards for +pick and shovel. The great majority, ant-like in their indefatigable +busyness, neither turned a head nor looked up: backs were bent, eyes +fixed, in a hard scrutiny of cradle or tin-dish: it was the earth that +held them, the familiar, homely earth, whose common fate it is to be +trodden heedlessly underfoot. Here, it was the loadstone that drew all +men's thoughts. And it took toll of their bodies in odd, exhausting +forms of labour, which were swift to weed out the unfit. + +The men at the windlasses spat into their horny palms and bent to the +crank: they paused only to pass the back of a hand over a sweaty +forehead, or to drain a nose between two fingers. The barrow-drivers +shoved their loads, the bones of their forearms standing out like ribs. +Beside the pools, the puddlers chopped with their shovels; some even +stood in the tubs, and worked the earth with their feet, as +wine-pressers trample grapes. The cradlers, eternally rocking with one +hand, held a long stick in the other with which to break up any clods a +careless puddler might have deposited in the hopper. Behind these came +the great army of fossickers, washers of surface-dirt, equipped with +knives and tin-dishes, and content if they could wash out +half-a-pennyweight to the dish. At their heels still others, who +treated the tailings they threw away. And among these last was a +sprinkling of women, more than one with an infant sucking at her +breast. Withdrawn into a group for themselves worked a body of Chinese, +in loose blue blouses, flappy blue leg-bags and huge conical straw +hats. They, too, fossicked and re-washed, using extravagant quantities +of water. + +Thus the pale-eyed multitude worried the surface, and, at the risk and +cost of their lives, probed the depths. Now that deep sinking was in +vogue, gold-digging no longer served as a play-game for the gentleman +and the amateur; the greater number of those who toiled at it were +work-tried, seasoned men. And yet, although it had now sunk to the +level of any other arduous and uncertain occupation, and the magic +prizes of the early days were seldom found, something of the old, +romantic glamour still clung to this most famous gold-field, dazzling +the eyes and confounding the judgment. Elsewhere, the horse was in use +at the puddling-trough, and machines for crushing quartz were under +discussion. But the Ballarat digger resisted the introduction of +machinery, fearing the capitalist machinery would bring in its train. +He remained the dreamer, the jealous individualist; he hovered for ever +on the brink of a stupendous discovery. + +This dream it was, of vast wealth got without exertion, which had +decoyed the strange, motley crowd, in which peers and churchmen rubbed +shoulders with the scum of Norfolk Island, to exile in this outlandish +region. And the intention of all alike had been: to snatch a golden +fortune from the earth and then, hey, presto! for the old world again. +But they were reckoning without their host: only too many of those who +entered the country went out no more. They became prisoners to the +soil. The fabulous riches of which they had heard tell amounted, at +best, to a few thousands of pounds: what folly to depart with so +little, when mother earth still teemed! Those who drew blanks nursed an +unquenchable hope, and laboured all their days like navvies, for a +navvy's wage. Others again, broken in health or disheartened, could +only turn to an easier handiwork. There were also men who, as soon as +fortune smiled on them, dropped their tools and ran to squander the +work of months in a wild debauch; and they invariably returned, tail +down, to prove their luck anew. And, yet again, there were those who, +having once seen the metal in the raw: in dust, fine as that brushed +from a butterfly's wing; in heavy, chubby nuggets; or, more exquisite +still, as the daffodil-yellow veining of bluish-white quartz: these +were gripped in the subtlest way of all. A passion for the gold itself +awoke in them an almost sensual craving to touch and possess; and the +glitter of a few specks at the bottom of pan or cradle came, in time, +to mean more to them than "home," or wife, or child. + +Such were the fates of those who succumbed to the "unholy hunger." It +was like a form of revenge taken on them, for their loveless schemes of +robbing and fleeing; a revenge contrived by the ancient, barbaric +country they had so lightly invaded. Now, she held them +captive--without chains; ensorcelled--without witchcraft; and, lying +stretched like some primeval monster in the sun, her breasts freely +bared, she watched, with a malignant eye, the efforts made by these +puny mortals to tear their lips away. + + + + + +Part I + + + + +Chapter I + +On the summit of one of the clay heaps, a woman shot into silhouette +against the sky. An odd figure, clad in a skimpy green petticoat, with +a scarlet shawl held about her shoulders, wisps of frowsy red hair +standing out round her head, she balanced herself on the slippery +earth, spinning her arm like the vane of a windmill, and crying at the +top of her voice: "Joe, boys!--Joe, Joe, Joey!" + +It was as if, with these words, she had dropped a live shell in the +diggers' midst. A general stampede ensued; in which the cry was caught +up, echoed and re-echoed, till the whole Flat rang with the name of +"Joe." Tools were dropped, cradles and tubs abandoned, windlasses left +to kick their cranks backwards. Many of the workers took to their +heels; others, in affright, scuttled aimlessly hither and thither, like +barnyard fowls in a panic. Summoned by shouts of: "Up with you, +boys!--the traps are here!" numbers ascended from below to see the fun, +while as many went hurriedly down to hiding in drive or chamber. Even +those diggers who could pat the pocket in which their licence lay +ceased work, and stood about with sullen faces to view the course of +events. Only the group of Chinamen washing tail-heaps remained unmoved. +One of them, to whom the warning woman belonged, raised his head and +called a Chinese word at her; she obeyed it instantly, vanished into +thin air; the rest went impassively on with their fossicking. They were +not such fools as to try to cheat the Government of its righteous dues. +None but had his licence safely folded in his nosecloth, and thrust +inside the bosom of his blouse. + +Through the labyrinth of tents and mounds, a gold-laced cap could be +seen approaching; then a gold-tressed jacket came into view, the white +star on the forehead of a mare. Behind the Commissioner, who rode down +thus from the Camp, came the members of his staff; these again were +followed by a body of mounted troopers. They drew rein on the slope, +and simultaneously a line of foot police, backed by a detachment of +light infantry, shot out like an arm, and walled in the Flat to the +south. + +On the appearance of the enemy the babel redoubled. There were groans +and cat-calls. Along with the derisive "Joeys!" the rebel diggers +hurled any term of abuse that came to their lips. + +"The dolly mops! The skunks! The bushrangers!--Oh, damn 'em, damn 'em! +... damn their bloody eyes!" + +"It's Rooshia--that's what it is!" said an oldish man darkly. + +The Commissioner, a horse-faced, solemn man with brown side whiskers, +let the reins droop on his mare's neck and sat unwinking in the tumult. +His mien was copied by his staff. Only one of them, a very young boy +who was new to the colony and his post, changed colour under his gaudy +cap, went from white to pink and from pink to white again; while at +each fresh insult he gave a perceptible start, and gazed dumbfounded at +his chief's insensitive back. + +The "bloodhounds" had begun to track their prey. Rounding up, with a +skill born of long practice, they drove the diggers before them towards +the centre of the Flat. Here they passed from group to group and from +hole to hole, calling for the production of licences with an insolence +that made its object see red. They were nice of scent, too, and, nine +times in ten, pounced on just those unfortunates who, through +carelessness, or lack of means, or on political grounds, had failed to +take out the month's licence to dig for gold. Every few minutes one or +another was marched off between two constables to the Government Camp, +for fine or imprisonment. + +Now it was that it suddenly entered Long Jim's head to cut and run. Up +till now he had stood declaring himself a free-born Briton, who might +be drawn and quartered if he ever again paid the blasted tax. But, as +the police came closer, a spear of fright pierced his befuddled brain, +and inside a breath he was off and away. Had the abruptness of his +start not given him a slight advantage, he would have been caught at +once. As it was, the chase would not be a long one; the clumsy, +stiff-jointed man slithered here and stuck fast there, dodging +obstacles with an awkwardness that was painful to see. He could be +heard sobbing and cursing as he ran. + +At this point the Commissioner, half turning, signed to the troopers in +his rear. Six or seven of them shook up their bridles and rode off, +their scabbards clinking, to prevent the fugitive's escape. + +A howl of contempt went up from the crowd. The pink and white subaltern +made what was almost a movement of the arm to intercept his superior's +command. + +It was too much for Long Jim's last mate, the youthful blackbeard who +had pluckily descended the shaft after the accident. He had been +standing on a mound with a posse of others, following the man-hunt. At +his partner's crack-brained dash for the open, his snorts of +indignation found words. "Gaw-blimy! ... is the old fool gone dotty?" +Then he drew a whistling breath. "No, it's more than flesh and blood +.... Stand back, boys!" And though he was as little burdened with a +licence as the man under pursuit, he shouted: "Help, help! ... for +God's sake, don't let 'em have me!" shot down the slope, and was off +like the wind. + +His foxly object was attained. The attention of the hunters was +diverted. Long Jim, seizing the moment, vanished underground. + +The younger man ran with the lightness of a hare. He had also the +hare's address in doubling and turning. His pursuers never knew, did he +pass from sight behind a covert of tents and mounds, where he would bob +up next. He avoided shafts and pools as if by a miracle; ran along +greasy planks without a slip; and, where these had been removed to balk +the police, he jumped the holes, taking risks that were not for a sane +man. Once he fell, but, enslimed from head to foot, wringing wet and +hatless, was up again in a twinkling. His enemies were less sure-footed +than he, and times without number measured their length on the oily +ground. Still, one of them was gaining rapidly on him, a giant of a +fellow with long thin legs; and soon the constable's foot filled the +prints left by the young man's, while these were still warm. It was a +fine run. The diggers trooped after in a body; the Flat rang with +cheers and plaudits. Even the Commissioner and his retinue trotted in +the same direction. Eventually the runaway must land in the arms of the +mounted police. + +But this was not his plan. Making as though he headed for the open, he +suddenly dashed off at right angles, and, with a final sprint, brought +up dead against a log-and-canvas store which stood on rising ground. +His adversary was so close behind that a collision resulted; the +digger's feet slid from under him, he fell on his face, the other on +top. In their fall they struck a huge pillar of tin-dishes, ingeniously +built up to the height of the store itself. This toppled over with a +crash, and the dishes went rolling down the slope between the legs of +the police. The dog chained to the flagstaff all but strangled himself +in his rage and excitement; and the owner of the store came running out. + +"Purdy! ... you! What in the name of ...?" + +The digger adroitly rolled his captor over, and there they both sat, +side by side on the ground, one gripping the other's collar, both too +blown to speak. A cordon of puffing constables hemmed them in. + +The storekeeper frowned. "You've no licence, you young beggar!" + +And: "Your licence, you scoundrel!" demanded the leader of the troop. + +The prisoner's rejoinder was a saucy: "Now then, out with the cuffs, +Joe!" + +He got on his feet as bidden; but awkwardly, for it appeared that in +falling he had hurt his ankle. Behind the police were massed the +diggers. These opened a narrow alley for the Camp officials to ride +through, but their attitude was hostile, and there were cries of: +"Leave 'im go, yer blackguards! ... after sich a run! None o yer bloody +quod for 'im!" along with other, more threatening expressions. Sombre +and taciturn, the Commissioner waved his hand. "Take him away!" + +"Well, so long, Dick!" said the culprit jauntily; and, as he offered +his wrists to be handcuffed, he whistled an air. + +Here the storekeeper hurriedly interposed: "No, stop! I'll give bail." +And darting into the tent and out again, he counted five one-pound +notes into the constable's palm. The lad's collar was released; and a +murmur of satisfaction mounted from the crowd. + +At the sound the giver made as if to retire. Then, yielding to a second +thought, he stepped forward and saluted the Commissioner. "A young +hot-head, sir! He means no harm. I'll send him up in the morning, to +apologise." + +("I'll be damned if you do!" muttered the digger between his teeth.) + +But the Chief refused to be placated. "Good day, doctor," he said +shortly, and with his staff at heel trotted down the slope, followed +till out of earshot by a mocking fire of "Joes." Lingering in the rear, +the youthful sympathiser turned in his saddle and waved his cap. + +The raid was over for that day. The crowd dispersed; its members became +orderly, hard-working men once more. The storekeeper hushed his frantic +dog, and called his assistant to rebuild the pillar of tins. + +The young digger sat down on the log that served for a bench, and +examined his foot. He pulled and pulled, causing himself great pain, +but could not get his boot off. At last, looking back over his shoulder +he cried impatiently: "Dick!... I say, Dick Mahony! Give us a drink, +old boy! ... I'm dead-beat." + +At this the storekeeper--a tall, slenderly built man of some seven or +eight and twenty--appeared, bearing a jug and a pannikin. + +"Oh, bah!" said the lad, when he found that the jug held only water. +And, on his friend reminding him that he might by now have been sitting +in the lock-up, he laughed and winked. "I knew you'd go bail." + +"Well! ... of all the confounded impudence...." + +"Faith, Dick, and d'ye think I didn't see how your hand itched for your +pocket?" + +The man he called Mahony flushed above his fair beard. It was true: he +had made an involuntary movement of the hand--checked for the rest +halfway, by the knowledge that the pocket was empty. He looked +displeased and said nothing. + +"Don't be afraid, I'll pay you back soon's ever me ship comes home," +went on the young scapegrace, who very well knew how to play his cards. +At his companion's heated disclaimer, however, he changed his tone. "I +say, Dick, have a look at my foot, will you? I can't get this damned +boot off." + +The elder man bent over the injury. He ceased to show displeasure. +"Purdy, you young fool, when will you learn wisdom?" + +"Well, they shouldn't hunt old women, then--the swine!" gave back +Purdy; and told his tale. "Oh, lor! there go six canaries." For, at his +wincing and shrinking, his friend had taken a penknife and ripped up +the jackboot. Now, practised hands explored the swollen, discoloured +ankle. + +When it had been washed and bandaged, its owner stretched himself on +the ground, his head in the shade of a barrel, and went to sleep. + +He slept till sundown, through all the traffic of a busy afternoon. + +Some half-a-hundred customers came and went. The greater number of them +were earth-stained diggers, who ran up for, it might be, a missing +tool, or a hide bucket, or a coil of rope. They spat jets of +tobacco-juice, were richly profane, paid, where coin was scarce, in +gold-dust from a match-box, and hurried back to work. But there also +came old harridans--as often as not, diggers themselves--whose language +outdid that of the males, and dirty Irish mothers; besides a couple of +the white women who inhabited the Chinese quarter. One of these was in +liquor, and a great hullabaloo took place before she could be got rid +of. Put out, she stood in front of the tent, her hair hanging down her +back, cursing and reviling. Respectable women as well did an +afternoon's shopping there. In no haste to be gone, they sat about on +empty boxes or upturned barrels exchanging confidences, while weary +children plucked at their skirts. A party of youngsters entered, the +tallest of whom could just see over the counter, and called for +shandygaffs. The assistant was for chasing them off, with hard words. +But the storekeeper put, instead, a stick of barley-sugar into each +dirty, outstretched hand, and the imps retired well content. On their +heels came a digger and his lady-love to choose a wedding-outfit; and +all the gaudy finery the store held was displayed before them. A red +velvet dress flounced with satin, a pink gauze bonnet, white satin +shoes and white silk stockings met their fancy. The dewy-lipped, +smutty-lashed Irish girl blushed and dimpled, in consulting with the +shopman upon the stays in which to lace her ample figure; the digger, +whose very pores oozed gold, planked down handfuls of dust and nuggets, +and brushed aside a neat Paisley shawl for one of yellow satin, the +fellow to which he swore to having seen on the back of the Governor's +lady herself. He showered brandy-snaps on the children, and bought a +polka-jacket for a shabby old woman. Then, producing a bottle of +champagne from a sack he bore, he called on those present to give him, +after: "'Er most Gracious little Majesty, God bless 'er!" the: "'Oly +estate of materimony!" The empty bottle smashed for luck, the couple +departed arm-in-arm, carrying their purchases in the sack; and the rest +of the company trooped to the door with them, to wish them joy. + +Within the narrow confines of the tent, where red-herrings trailed over +moleskin-shorts, and East India pickles and Hessian boots lay on the +top of sugar and mess-pork; where cheeses rubbed shoulders with tallow +candles, blue and red serge shirts, and captain's biscuits; where +onions, and guernseys, and sardines, fine combs, cigars and +bear's-grease, Windsor soap, tinned coffee and hair oil, revolvers, +shovels and Oxford shoes, lay in one grand miscellany: within the +crowded store, as the afternoon wore on, the air grew rank and +oppressive. Precisely at six o'clock the bar was let down across the +door, and the storekeeper withdrew to his living-room at the back of +the tent. Here he changed his coat and meticulously washed his hands, +to which clung a subtle blend of all the strong-smelling goods that had +passed through them. Then, coming round to the front, he sat down on +the log and took out his pipe. He made a point, no matter how brisk +trade was, of not keeping open after dark. His evenings were his own. + +He sat and puffed, tranquilly. It was a fine night. The first showy +splendour of sunset had passed; but the upper sky was still aflush with +colour. And in the centre of this frail cloud, which faded as he +watched it, swam a single star. + + + + +Chapter II + +With the passing of a cooler air the sleeper wakened and rubbed his +eyes. Letting his injured leg lie undisturbed, he drew up the other +knee and buckled his hands round it. In this position he sat and talked. + +He was a dark, fresh-coloured young man, of middle height, and broadly +built. He had large white teeth of a kind to crack nuts with, and the +full, wide, flexible mouth that denotes the generous talker. + +"What a wind-bag it is, to be sure!" thought his companion, as he +smoked and listened, in a gently ironic silence, to abuse of the +Government. He knew--or thought he knew--young Purdy inside out. + +But behind all the froth of the boy's talk there lurked, it seemed, a +purpose. No sooner was a meal of cold chop and tea over than Purdy +declared his intention of being present at a meeting of malcontent +diggers. Nor would he even wait to wash himself clean of mud. + +His friend reluctantly agreed to lend him an arm. But he could not +refrain from taking the lad to task for getting entangled in the +political imbroglio. "When, as you know, it's just a kind of sport to +you." + +Purdy sulked for a few paces, then burst out: "If only you weren't so +damned detached, Dick Mahony!" + +"You're restless, and want excitement, my boy--that's the root of the +trouble." + +"Well, I'm jiggered! If ever I knew a restless mortal, it's yourself." + +The two men picked their steps across the Flat and up the opposite +hillside, young Purdy Smith limping and leaning heavy, his lame foot +thrust into an old slipper. He was at all times hail-fellow-well-met +with the world. Now, in addition, his plucky exploit of the afternoon +blazed its way through the settlement; and blarney and bravos rained +upon him. "Golly for you, Purdy, old 'oss!" "Showed 'em the diggers' +flag, 'e did!" "What'll you take, me buck? Come on in for a drop o' the +real strip-me-down-naked!" Even a weary old strumpet, propping herself +against the doorway of a dancing-saloon, waved a tipsy hand and cried: +"Arrah, an' is it yerrself, Purrdy, me bhoy? Shure an' it's bussin' ye +I'd be afther--if me legs would carry me!" And Purdy laughed, and +relished the honey, and had an answer pat for everybody especially the +women. His companion on the other hand was greeted with a glibness that +had something perfunctory in it, and no touch of familiarity. + +The big canvas tent on Bakery Hill, where the meeting was to be held, +was already lighted; and at the tinkle of a bell the diggers, who till +then had stood cracking and hobnobbing outside, began to push for the +entrance. The bulk of them belonged to the race that is quickest to +resent injustice--were Irish. After them in number came the Germans, +swaggering and voluble; and the inflammable French, English, Scotch and +Americans formed a smaller and cooler, but very dogged group. + +At the end of the tent a rough platform had been erected, on which +stood a row of cane seats. In the body of the hall, the benches were +formed of boards, laid from one upturned keg or tub to another. The +chair was taken by a local auctioneer, a cadaverous-looking man, with +never a twinkle in his eye, who, in a lengthy discourse and with the +single monotonous gesture of beating the palm of one hand with the back +of the other, strove to bring home to his audience the degradation of +their present political status. The diggers chewed and spat, and +listened to his periods with sang-froid: the shame of their state did +not greatly move them. They followed, too, with composure, the +rehearsal of their general grievances. As they were aware, said the +speaker, the Legislative Council of Victoria was made up largely of +Crown nominees; in the election of members the gold-seeking population +had no voice whatsoever. This was a scandalous thing; for the digging +constituent outnumbered all the rest of the population put together, +thus forming what he would call the backbone and mainstay of the +colony. The labour of THEIR hands had raised the colony to its present +pitch of prosperity. And yet these same bold and hardy pioneers were +held incapable of deciding jot or tittle in the public affairs of their +adopted home. Still unmoved, the diggers listened to this recital of +their virtues. But when one man, growing weary of the speaker's +unctuous wordiness, discharged a fierce: "Why the hell don't yer git on +to the bloody licence-tax?" the audience was fire and flame in an +instant. A riotous noise ensued; rough throats rang changes on the +question. Order restored, it was evident that the speech was over. +Thrown violently out of his concept, the auctioneer struck and struck +at his palm--in vain; nothing would come. So, making the best of a bad +job, he irately sat down in favour of his successor on the programme. + +This speaker did not fare much better. The assemblage, roused now, +jolly and merciless, was not disposed to give quarter; and his +obtuseness in dawdling over such high-flown notions as that population, +not property, formed the basis of representative government, reaped him +a harvest of boos and groans. This was not what the diggers had come +out to hear. And they were as direct as children in their demand for +the gist of the matter. + +"A reg-lar ol' shicer!" was the unanimous opinion, expressed without +scruple. While from the back of the hall came the curt request to him +to shut his "tater-trap." + +Next on the list was a German, a ruddy-faced man with mutton-chop +whiskers and prominent, watery eyes. He could not manage the letter +"r." In the body of a word where it was negligible, he rolled it out as +though it stood three deep. Did he tackle it as an initial, on the +other hand, his tongue seemed to cleave to his palate, and to yield +only an "l." This quaint defect caused some merriment at the start, but +was soon eclipsed by a more striking oddity. The speaker had the habit +of, as it were, creaking with his nose. After each few sentences he +paused, to give himself time to produce something between a creak and a +snore--an abortive attempt to get at a mucus that was plainly out of +reach. + +The diggers were beside themselves with mirth. + +"'E's forgot 'is 'ankey!" + +"'Ere, boys, look slippy!--a 'ankey for ol' sausage!" + +But the German was not sensitive to ridicule. He had something to say, +and he was there to say it. Fixing his fish-like eyes on a spot high up +the tent wall, he kept them pinned to it, while he mouthed out +blood-and-thunder invectives. He was, it seemed, a red-hot +revolutionist; a fierce denouncer of British rule. He declared the +British monarchy to be an effete institution; the fetish of British +freedom to have been "exbloded" long ago. What they needed, in this +grand young country of theirs, was a "republic"; they must rid +themselves of those shackles that had been forged in the days when men +were slaves. It was his sound conviction that before many weeks had +passed, the Union Jack would have been hauled down for ever, and the +glorious Southern Cross would wave in its stead, over a free Australia. +The day on which this happened would be a never-to-be-forgotten date in +the annals of the country. For what, he would like to know, had the +British flag ever done for freedom, at any time in the world's history? +They should read in their school-books, and there they would learn that +wherever a people had risen against their tyrants, the Union Jack had +waved, not over them, but over the British troops sent to stamp the +rising out. + +This was more than Mahony could stomach. Flashing up from his seat, he +strove to assert himself above the hum of agreement that mounted from +the foreign contingent, and the doubtful sort of grumble by which the +Britisher signifies his disapproval. + +"Mr. Chairman! Gentlemen!" he cried in a loud voice. "I call upon those +loyal subjects of her Majesty who are present here, to join with me in +giving three cheers for the British flag. Hip, hip, hurrah! And, again, +hip, hip, hurrah! And, once more, hip, hip, hurrah!" + +His compatriots followed him, though flabbily; and he continued to make +himself heard above the shouts of "Order!" and the bimming of the +chairman's bell. + +"Mr. Chairman! I appeal to you. Are we Britons to sit still and hear +our country's flag reviled?--that flag which has ensured us the very +liberty we are enjoying this evening. The gentleman who has been +pleased to slander it is not, I believe, a British citizen. Now, I put +it to him: is there another country on the face of the earth, that +would allow people of all nations to flock into a gold-bearing colony +on terms of perfect equality with its own subjects?--to flock in, take +all they can get, and then make off with it?" a point of view that +elicited forcible grunts of assent, which held their own against hoots +and hisses. Unfortunately the speaker did not stop here, but went on: +"Gentlemen! Do not, I implore you, allow yourselves to be led astray by +a handful of ungrateful foreigners, who have received nothing but +benefits from our Crown. What you need, gentlemen, is not revolution, +but reform; not strife and bloodshed, but a liberty consistent with law +and order. And this, gentlemen,----" + +("You'll never get 'em like that, Dick," muttered Purdy.) + +"Not so much gentlemening, if YOU please!" said a sinister-looking man, +who might have been a Vandemonian in his day. "MEN'S what we +are--that's good enough for us." + +Mahony was nettled. The foreigners, too, were pressing him. + +"Am I then to believe, sir, what I frequently hear asserted, that there +are no gentlemen left on the diggings?" + +("Oh lor, Dick!" said Purdy. He was sitting with his elbows on his +knees, clutching his cheeks as though he had the toothache.) + +"Oh, stow yer blatherskite!" + +"Believe what yer bloody well like!" retorted the Vandemonian fiercely. +"But don't come 'ere and interrupt our pleasant and h'orderly meetings +with YOUR blamed jaw." + +Mahony lost his temper. "I not interrupt?--when I see you great hulks +of men--" + +("Oh, lor!" groaned Purdy again.) + +"--who call yourselves British subjects, letting yourselves be led by +the nose, like the sheep you are, by a pack of foreigners who are +basely accepting this country's hospital'ty?" + +"Here, let me," said Purdy. And pushing his way along the bench he +hobbled to the platform, where several arms hoisted him up. + +There he stood, fronting the violent commotion that had ensued on his +friend's last words; stood bedraggled, mud-stained, bandaged, his +cabbage-tree hat in his hand. And Mahony, still on his feet, angrily +erect, thought he understood why the boy had refused to wash himself +clean, or to change his dress: he had no doubt foreseen the possibility +of some such dramatic appearance. + +Purdy waited for the hubbub to die down. As if by chance he had rested +his hand on the bell; its provoking tinkle ceased. Now he broke into +one of the frank and hearty smiles that never fail to conciliate. + +"Brother diggers!" + +The strongly spoken words induced an abrupt lull. The audience turned +to him, still thorny and sulky it was true, but yet they turned; and +one among them demanded a hearing for the youngster. + +"Brother diggers! We are met here to-night with a single purpose in +view. Brother diggers! We are not met here to throw mud at our dear old +country's flag! Nor will we have a word said against her most gracious +Majesty, the Queen. Not us! We're men first, whose business it is to +stand up for a gallant little woman, and diggers with a grievance +afterwards. Are you with me, boys?--Very well, then.-- Now we didn't +come here to-night to confab about getting votes, or having a hand in +public affairs--much as we want 'em both and mean to have 'em, when the +time comes. No, to-night there's only one thing that matters to us, and +that's the repeal of the accursed tax!" Here, such a tempest of +applause broke out that he was unable to proceed. "Yes, I say it +again," he went on, when they would let him speak; "the instant repeal! +When that's been done, this curse taken off us, then it'll be time +enough to parlez-vous about the colour of the flag we mean to have, and +about going shares in the Government. But let me make one thing clear +to you. We're neither traitors to the Crown, nor common rebels. We're +true-blue Britons, who have been goaded to rebellion by one of the +vilest pieces of tyranny that ever saw the light. Spies and informers +are everywhere about us. Mr. Commissioner Sleuth and his hounds may cry +tally-ho every day, if 'tis their pleasure to! To put it shortly, boys, +we're living under semi-martial law. To such a state have we free-born +men, men who came out but to see the elephant, been reduced, by the +asinine stupidity of the Government, by the impudence and knavishness +of its officials. Brother diggers! When you leave the hall this +evening, look over at the hill on which the Camp stands! What will you +see? You will see a blaze of light, and hear the sounds of revelry by +night. There, boys, hidden from our mortal view, but visible to our +mind's eye, sit Charley Joe's minions, carousing at our expense, +washing down each mouthful with good fizz bought with our hard-earned +gold. Licence-pickings, boys, and tips from new grog-shops, and the +blasted farce of the Commissariat! We're supposed--" + +But here Mahony gave a loud click of the tongue--in the general howl of +execration it passed unheard--and, pushing his way out of the tent, let +the flap-door fall to behind him. + + + + +Chapter III + +He retraced his steps by the safe-conduct of a full moon, which showed +up the gaping black mouths of circular shafts and silvered the water +that flooded abandoned oblong holes to their brim. Tents and huts stood +white and forsaken in the moonlight: their owners were either gathered +on Bakery Hill, or had repaired to one of the gambling and dancing +saloons that lined the main street. Arrived at the store he set his +frantic dog free, and putting a match to his pipe, began to stroll up +and down. + +He felt annoyed with himself for having helped to swell the crowd of +malcontents; and still more for his foolishness in giving the rein to a +momentary irritation. As if it mattered a doit what trash these +foreigners talked! No thinking person took their bombast seriously; the +authorities, with great good sense, let it pass for what it was--a +noisy blowing-off of steam. At heart, the diggers were as sound as good +pippins. + +A graver consideration was Purdy's growing fellowship with the rebel +faction. The boy was too young and still too much of a fly-by-night to +have a black mark set against his name. It would be the more absurd, +considering that his sincerity in espousing the diggers' cause was far +from proved. He was of a nature to ride tantivy into anything that +promised excitement or adventure. With, it must regretfully be +admitted, an increasing relish for the limelight, for theatrical +effect--see the cunning with which he had made capital out of a +bandaged ankle and dirty dress! At this rate, and with his engaging +ways, he would soon stand for a little god to the rough, artless crowd. +No, he must leave the diggings--and Mahony rolled various schemes in +his mind. He had it! In the course of the next week or two business +would make a journey to Melbourne imperative. Well, he would damn the +extra expense and take the boy along with him! Purdy was at a loose +end, and would no doubt rise like a fish to a fly at the chance of +getting to town free of cost. After all, why be hard on him? He was not +much over twenty, and, at that age, it was natural enough--especially +in a place like this--for a lad to flit like a butterfly from every cup +that took his restless fancy. + +Restless? ... h'm! It was the word Purdy had flung back at him, earlier +in the evening. At the time, he had rebutted the charge, with a glance +at fifteen months spent behind the counter of a store. But there was a +modicum of truth in it, none the less. The life one led out here was +not calculated to tone down any innate restlessness of temperament: on +the contrary, it directly hindered one from becoming fixed and settled. +It was on a par with the houses you lived in--these flimsy tents and +draught-riddled cabins you put up with, "for the time being"--was just +as much of a makeshift affair as they. Its keynote was change. Fortunes +were made, and lost, and made again, before you could say Jack +Robinson; whole townships shot up over-night, to be deserted the moment +the soil ceased to yield; the people you knew were here to-day, and +gone--sold up, burnt out, or dead and buried--to-morrow. And so, +whether you would or not, your whole outlook became attuned to the +general unrest; you lived in a constant anticipation of what was coming +next. Well, he could own to the weakness with more justification than +most. If trade continued to prosper with him as it did at present, it +would be no time before he could sell out and joyfully depart for the +old country. + +In the meantime, why complain? He had much to be thankful for. To take +only a small point: was this not Saturday night? To-morrow the store +was closed, and a string of congenial occupations offered: from +chopping the week's wood--a clean and wholesome task, which he gladly +performed--through the pages of an engrossing book to a botanical +ramble round old Buninyong. The thought of it cheered him. He stooped +to caress his two cats, which had come out to bear him the mute and +pleasant company of their kind. + +What a night! The great round silver moon floated serenely through +space, dimming the stars as it made them, and bathing the earth in +splendour. It was so light that straight black lines of smoke could be +seen mounting from chimneys and open-air fires. The grass-trees which +supplied the fuel for these fires spread a pleasant balsamic odour, and +the live red patches contrasted oddly with the pale ardour of the moon. +Lights twinkled over all the township, but were brightest in Main +Street, the course of which they followed like a rope of fireflies, and +at the Government Camp on the steep western slope, where no doubt, as +young Purdy had impudently averred, the officials still sat over the +dinner-table. It was very quiet--no grog-shops or +saloons-of-entertainment in this neighbourhood, thank goodness!--and +the hour was still too early for drunken roisterers to come reeling +home. The only sound to be heard was that of a man's voice singing OFT +IN THE STILLY NIGHT, to the yetching accompaniment of a concertina. +Mahony hummed the tune. + +But it was growing cold, as the nights were apt to do on this tableland +once summer was past. He whistled his dog, and Pompey hurried out with +a guilty air from the back of the house, where the old shaft stood that +served to hold refuse. Mahony put him on the chain, and was just about +to turn in when two figures rounded the corner of a tent and came +towards him, pushing their shadows before them on the milk-white ground. + +"'D evenin', doc," said the shorter of the two, a nuggetty little man +who carried his arms curved out from his sides, gorilla-fashion. + +"Oh, good evening, Mr. Ocock," said Mahony, recognising a neighbour.-- +"Why, Tom, that you? Back already, my boy?"--this to a loutish, +loose-limbed lad who followed behind.--"You don't of course come from +the meeting?" + +"Not me, indeed!" gave back his visitor with gall, and turned his head +to spit the juice from a plug. "I've got suthin' better to do as to +listen to a pack o' jabberin' furriners settin' one another by th'ears." + +"Nor you, Tom?" Mahony asked the lad, who stood sheepishly shifting his +weight from one leg to the other. + +"Nay, nor 'im eether," jumped in his father, before he could speak. +"I'll 'ave none o' my boys playin' the fool up there. And that reminds +me, doc, young Smith'll git 'imself inter the devil of a mess one o' +these days, if you don't look after 'im a bit better'n you do. I 'eard +'im spoutin' away as I come past--usin' language about the Gover'ment +fit to turn you sick." + +Mahony coughed. "He's but young yet," he said drily. "After all, +youth's youth, sir, and comes but once in a lifetime. And you can't +make lads into wiseacres between sundown and sunrise." + +"No, by Gawd, you can't!" affirmed his companion. "But I think youth's +just a fine name for a sort o' piggish mess What's the good, one 'ud +like to know, of gettin' old, and learnin' wisdom, and knowin' the good +from the bad, when ev'ry lousy young fathead that's born inter the +world starts out again to muddle through it for 'imself, in 'is own +way. And that things 'as got to go on like this, just the same, for +ever and ever--why, it makes me fair tired to think of it. My father +didn't 'old with youth: 'e knocked it out of us by thrashin', just like +lyin' and thievin'. And it's the best way, too.-- Wot's that you say?" +he flounced round on the unoffending Tom. "Nothin'? You was only +snifflin', was you? You keep your fly-trap shut, my fine fellow, and +make no mousy sounds to me, or it'll be the worse for you, I can tell +you!" + +"Come, Mr. Ocock, don't be too hard on the boy." + +"Not be 'ard on 'im? When I've got the nasty galoon on me 'ands again +like this?--Chucks up the good post I git 'im in Kilmore, without with +your leave or by your leave. Too lonely for 'is lordship it was. Missed +the sound o' wimmin's petticoats, 'e did." He turned fiercely on his +son. "'Ere, don't you stand starin' there! You get 'ome, and fix up for +the night. Now then, wot are you dawdlin' for, pig-'ead?" + +The boy slunk away. When he had disappeared, his father again took up +the challenge of Mahony's silent disapproval. "I can't 'ardly bear the +sight of 'im, doc.--disgracin' me as 'e 'as done. 'Im a father, and not +eighteen till June! A son o' mine, who can't see a wench with 'er +bodice open, but wot 'e must be arter 'er.... No, sir, no son o' mine! +I'm a respectable man, I am!" + +"Of course, of course." + +"Oh! but they're a sore trial to me, these boys, doc. 'Enry's the only +one ... if it weren't for 'Enry--Johnny, 'e can't pass the drink, and +now 'ere's this young swine started to nose arter the wimmin." + +"There's good stuff in the lads, I'm sure of it. They're just sowing +their wild oats." + +"They'll sow no h'oats with me." + +"I tell you what it is, Mr. Ocock, you need a woman about your place, +to make it a bit more homelike," said Mahony, calling to mind the +pigstye in which Ocock and his sons housed. + +"Course I do!" agreed Ocock. "And Melia, she'll come out to 'er daddy +soon as ever th'ol' woman kicks the bucket.-- Drat 'er! It's 'er I've +got to thank for all the mischief." + +"Well, well!" said Mahony, and rising knocked out his pipe on the log. +Did his old neighbour once get launched on the subject of his wife's +failings, there was no stopping him. "We all have our crosses." + +"That I 'ave. And I'm keepin' you outer your bed, doc., with me +blather. --By gum! and that reminds me I come 'ere special to see you +to-night. Bin gettin' a bit moonstruck, I reckon,"--and he clapped on +his hat. + +Drawing a sheaf of papers from an inner pocket, he selected one and +offered it to Mahony. Mahony led the way indoors, and lighting a +kerosene-lamp stooped to decipher the letter. + +For some weeks now he had been awaiting the delivery of a load of +goods, the invoice for which had long since reached him. From this +communication, carried by hand, he learnt that the drayman, having got +bogged just beyond Bacchus's marsh, had decamped to the Ovens, taking +with him all he could cram into a spring-cart, and disposing of the +remainder for what he could get. The agent in Melbourne refused to be +held responsible for the loss, and threatened to prosecute, if payment +for the goods were not immediately forthcoming. Mahony, who here heard +the first of the affair, was highly indignant at the tone of the +letter; and before he had read to the end resolved to let everything +else slide, and to leave for Melbourne early next morning. + +Ocock backed him up in this decision, and with the aid of a great quill +pen stiffly traced the address of his eldest son, who practised as a +solicitor in the capital. + +"Go you straight to 'Enry, doc. 'Enry'll see you through." + +Brushing aside his dreams of a peaceful Sabbath Mahony made +preparations for his journey. Waking his assistant, he gave the man--a +stupid clodhopper, but honest and attached--instructions how to manage +during his absence, then sent him to the township to order horses. +Himself, he put on his hat and went out to look for Purdy. + +His search led him through all the drunken revelry of a Saturday night. +And it was close on twelve before, having followed the trace from +bowling-alley to Chinese cook-shop, from the "Adelphi" to Mother +Flannigan's and haunts still less reputable, he finally succeeded in +catching his bird. + + + + +Chapter IV + +The two young men took to the road betimes: it still wanted some +minutes to six on the new clock in the tower of Bath's Hotel, when they +threw their legs over their saddles and rode down the steep slope by +the Camp Reserve. The hoofs of the horses pounded the plank bridge that +spanned the Yarrowee, and striking loose stones, and smacking and +sucking in the mud, made a rude clatter in the Sunday quiet. + +Having followed for a few hundred yards the wide, rut-riddled +thoroughfare of Main Street, the riders branched off to cross rising +ground. They proceeded in single file and at a footpace, for the +highway had been honeycombed and rendered unsafe; it also ascended +steadily. Just before they entered the bush, which was alive with the +rich, strong whistling of magpies, Purdy halted to look back and wave +his hat in farewell. Mahony also half-turned in the saddle. There it +lay--the scattered, yet congested, unlovely wood and canvas settlement +that was Ballarat. At this distance, and from this height, it resembled +nothing so much as a collection of child's bricks, tossed out at random +over the ground, the low, square huts and cabins that composed it being +all of a shape and size. Some threads of smoke began to mount towards +the immense pale dome of the sky. The sun was catching here the panes +of a window, there the tin that encased a primitive chimney. + +They rode on, leaving the warmth of the early sun-rays for the cold +blue shadows of the bush. Neither broke the silence. Mahony's day had +not come to an end with the finding of Purdy. Barely stretched on his +palliasse he had been routed out to attend to Long Jim, who had missed +his footing and pitched into a shaft. The poor old tipsy idiot hauled +up--luckily for him it was a dry, shallow hole--there was a broken +collar-bone to set. Mahony had installed him in his own bed, and had +spent the remainder of the night dozing in a chair. + +So now he was heavy-eyed, uncommunicative. As they climbed the shoulder +and came to the rich, black soil that surrounded the ancient cone of +Warrenheip, he mused on his personal relation to the place he had just +left. And not for the first time he asked himself: what am I doing +here? When he was absent from Ballarat, and could dispassionately +consider the life he led there, he was so struck by the incongruity of +the thing that, like the beldame in the nursery-tale, he could have +pinched himself to see whether he waked or slept. Had anyone told him, +three years previously, that the day was coming when he would weigh out +soap and sugar, and hand them over a counter in exchange for money, he +would have held the prophet ripe for Bedlam. Yet here he was, a +full-blown tradesman, and as greedy of gain as any tallow-chandler. +Extraordinary, aye, and distressing, too, the ease with which the human +organism adapted itself; it was just a case of the green caterpillar on +the green leaf. Well, he could console himself with the knowledge that +his apparent submission was only an affair of the surface. He had +struck no roots; and it would mean as little to his half-dozen +acquaintances on Ballarat when he silently vanished from their midst, +as it would to him if he never saw one of them again. Or the country +either--and he let his eye roam unlovingly over the wild, sad-coloured +landscape, with its skimpy, sad-coloured trees. + +Meanwhile they were advancing: their nags' hoofs, beating in unison, +devoured mile after mile of the road. It was a typical colonial road; +it went up hill and down dale, turned aside for no obstacles. At one +time it ran down a gully that was almost a ravine, to mount straight up +the opposite side among boulders that reached to the belly-bands. At +others, it led through a reedy swamp, or a stony watercourse; or it +became a bog; or dived through a creek. Where the ground was flat and +treeless, it was a rutty, well-worn track between two seas of pale, +scant grass. + +More than once, complaining of a mouth like sawdust, Purdy alighted and +limped across the verandah of a house-of-accommodation; but they did +not actually draw rein till, towards midday, they reached a knot of +weatherboard verandahed stores, smithies and public-houses, arranged at +the four Corners of two cross-roads. Here they made a substantial +luncheon; and the odour of fried onions carried far and wide. Mahony +paid his three shillings for a bottle of ale; but Purdy washed down the +steak with cup after cup of richly sugared tea. + +In the early afternoon they set off again, revived and refreshed. Purdy +caught at a bunch of aromatic leaves and burst into a song; and Mahony. +... Good God! With a cloudless sky overhead, a decent bit of horseflesh +between his knees, and the prospect of a three days' holiday from +storekeeping, his name would not have been what it was if he had for +long remained captious, downhearted. Insufficient sleep, and an empty +stomach--nothing on earth besides! A fig for his black thoughts! The +fact of his being obliged to spend a few years in the colony would, in +the end, profit him, by widening his experience of the world and his +fellow-men. It was possible to lead a sober, Godfearing life, no matter +in what rude corner of the globe you were pitchforked.-- And in this +mood he was even willing to grant the landscape a certain charm. Since +leaving Ballan the road had dipped up and down a succession of swelling +rises, grass-grown and untimbered. From the top of these ridges the +view was a far one: you looked straight across undulating waves of +country and intervening forest-land, to where, on the horizon, a long, +low sprawling range of hills lay blue--cobalt-blue, and painted in with +a sure brush--against the porcelain-blue of the sky. What did the +washed-out tints of the foliage matter, when, wherever you turned, you +could count on getting these marvellous soft distances, on always +finding a range of blue-veiled hills, lovely and intangible as a dream? + +There was not much traffic to the diggings on a Sunday. And having come +to a level bit of ground, the riders followed a joint impulse and broke +into a canter. As they began to climb again they fell naturally into +one of those familiar talks, full of allusion and reminiscence, that +are only possible between two of a sex who have lived through part of +their green days together. + +It began by Purdy referring to the satisfactory fashion in which he had +disposed of his tools, his stretcher-bed, and other effects: he was not +travelling to Melbourne empty-handed. + +Mahony rallied him. "You were always a good one at striking a bargain, +my boy! What about: 'Four mivvies for an alley!'--eh, Dickybird?" + +This related to their earliest meeting, and was a standing joke between +them. Mahony could recall the incident as clearly as though it had +happened yesterday: how the sturdy little apple-cheeked English boy, +with the comical English accent, had suddenly bobbed up at his side on +the way home from school, and in that laughable sing-song of his, +without modulation or emphasis, had offered to "swop" him, as above. + +Purdy laughed and paid him back in kind. "Yes, and the funk you were in +for fear Spiny Tatlow 'ud see us, and peach to the rest!" + +"Yes. What young idiots boys are!" + +In thought he added: "And what snobs!" For the breach of convention--he +was an upper-form boy at the time--had not been his sole reason for +wishing to shake off his junior. Behind him, Mahony, when he reached +home, closed the door of one of the largest houses in the most +exclusive square in Dublin. Whereas Purdy lived in a small, common +house in a side street. Visits there had to be paid surreptitiously. + +All the same these were frequent--and for the best of reasons. Mahony +could still see Purdy's plump, red-cheeked English mother, who was as +jolly and happy as her boy, hugging the loaf to her bosom while she cut +round after round of bread and butter and jam, for two cormorant +throats. And the elder boy, long-limbed and lank, all wrist and ankle, +had invariably been the hungrier of the two; for, on the glossy damask +of the big house, often not enough food was set to satisfy the growing +appetites of himself and his sisters.--"Dickybird, can't you see us, +with our backs to the wall, in that little yard of yours, trying who +could take the biggest bite?--or going round the outside: 'Crust first, +and though you burst, By the bones of Davy Jones!' till only a little +island of jam was left?" + +Purdy laughed heartily at these and other incidents fished up by his +friend from the well of the years; but he did not take part in the +sport himself. He had not Mahony's gift for recalling detail: to him +past was past. He only became alive and eager when the talk turned, as +it soon did, on his immediate prospects. + +This time, to his astonishment, Mahony had had no trouble in persuading +Purdy to quit the diggings. In addition, here was the boy now declaring +openly that what he needed, and must have, was a fixed and steadily +paying job. With this decision Mahony was in warm agreement, and +promised all the help that lay in his power. + +But Purdy was not done; he hummed and hawed and fidgeted; he took off +his hat and looked inside it; he wiped his forehead and the nape of his +neck. + +Mahony knew the symptoms. "Come, Dickybird. Spit it out, my boy!" + +"Yes ... er.... Well, the fact is, Dick, I begin to think it's time I +settled down." + +Mahony gave a whistle. "Whew! A lady in the case?" + +"That's the chat. Just oblige yours truly by takin' a squint at this, +will you?" + +He handed his friend a squarely-folded sheet of thinnest blue paper, +with a large purple stamp in one corner, and a red seal on the back. +Opening it Mahony discovered three crossed pages, written in a +delicately pointed, minute, Italian hand. + +He read the letter to the end, deliberately, and with a growing sense +of relief: composition, expression and penmanship, all met with his +approval. "This is the writing of a person of some refinement, my son." + +"Well, er ... yes," said Purdy. He seemed about to add a further word, +then swallowed it, and went on: "Though, somehow or other, Till's +different to herself, on paper. But she's the best of girls, Dick. Not +one o' your ethereal, die-away, bread-and-butter misses. There's +something OF Till there is, and she's always on for a lark. I never met +such girls for larks as her and 'er sister. The very last time I was +there, they took and hung up ... me and some other fellers had been +stoppin' up a bit late the night before, and kickin' up a bit of a +shindy, and what did those girls do? They got the barman to come into +my room while I was asleep, and hang a bucket o' water to one of the +beams over the bed. Then I'm blamed if they didn't tie a string from it +to my big toe! I gives a kick, down comes the bucket and half drowns +me.-- Gosh, how those girls did laugh!" + +"H'm!" said Mahony dubiously; while Purdy in his turn chewed the cud of +a pleasant memory.--"Well, I for my part should be glad to see you +married and settled, with a good wife always beside you." + +"That's just the rub," said Purdy, and vigorously scratched his head. + +"Till's a first-class girl as a sweetheart and all that; but when I +come to think of puttin' my head in the noose, from now till +doomsday--why then, somehow, I can't bring myself to pop the question." + +"There's going to be no trifling with the girl's feelings, I hope, sir?" + +"Bosh! But I say, Dick, I wish you'd turn your peepers on 'er and tell +me what you make of 'er. She's A1 'erself, but she's got a mother.... +By Job, Dick, if I thought Tilly 'ud ever get like that ... and they're +exactly the same build, too." + +It would certainly be well for him to inspect Purdy's flame, thought +Mahony. Especially since the anecdote told did not bear out the good +impression left by the letter--went far, indeed, to efface it. Still, +he was loath to extend his absence by spending a night at Geelong, +where, a, it came out, the lady lived; and he replied evasively that it +must depend on the speed with which he could put through his business +in Melbourne. + +Purdy was silent for a time. Then, with a side-glance at his companion, +he volunteered: "I say, Dick, I know some one who'd suit you." + +"The deuce you do!" said Mahony, and burst out laughing. "Miss Tilly's +sister, no doubt?" + +"No, no--not her. Jinn's all right, but she's not your sort. But +they've got a girl living with 'em--a sort o' poor relation, or +something--and she's a horse of quite another colour.--I say, old man, +serious now, have you never thought o' gettin' spliced?" + +Again Mahony laughed. At his companion's words there descended to him, +once more, from some shadowy distance, some pure height, the +rose-tinted vision of the wife-to-be which haunts every man's youth. +And, in ludicrous juxtaposition, he saw the women, the only women he +had encountered since coming to the colony: the hardworking, careworn +wives of diggers; the harridans, sluts and prostitutes who made up the +balance. + +He declined to be drawn. "Is it old Moll Flannigan or one of her +darlints you'd be wishing me luck to, ye spalpeen?" + +"Man, don't I say I've FOUND the wife for you?" Purdy was not jesting, +and did not join in the fresh salvo of laughter with which Mahony +greeted his words. "Oh, blow it, Dick, you're too fastidious--too +damned particular! Say what you like, there's good in all of 'em--even +in old Mother Flannigan 'erself--and 'specially when she's got a drop +inside 'er. Fuddle old Moll a bit, and she'd give you the very shift +off her back.--Don't I thank the Lord, that's all, I'm not built like +you! Why, the woman isn't born I can't get on with. All's fish that +comes to my net.--Oh, to be young, Dick, and to love the girls! To see +their little waists, and their shoulders, and the dimples in their +cheeks! See 'em put up their hands to their bonnets, and how their +little feet peep out when the wind blows their petticoats against their +legs!" and Purdy rose in his stirrups and stretched himself, in an +excess of wellbeing. + +"You young reprobate!" + +"Bah!--you! You've got water in your veins." + +"Nothing of the sort! Set me among decent women and there's no company +I enjoy more," declared Mahony. + +"Fish-blood, fish-blood!--Dick, it's my belief you were born old." + +Mahony was still young enough to be nettled by doubts cast on his +vitality. Purdy laughed in his sleeve. Aloud he said: "Well, look here, +old man, I'll lay you a wager. I bet you you're not game, when you see +that tulip I've been tellin' you about, to take her in your arms and +kiss her. A fiver on it!" + +"Done!" cried Mahony. "And I'll have it in one note, if you please!" + +"Bravo!" cried Purdy. "Bravo, Dick!" And having gained his end, and +being on a good piece of road between post-and-rail fences, he set +spurs to his horse and cantered off, singing as he went: + + SHE WHEELS A WHEELBARROW, + THROUGH STREETS WIDE AND NARROW, + CRYING COCKLES, AND MUSSELS, + ALIVE, ALIVE-OH! + +But the sun was growing large in the western sky; on the ground to the +left, their failing shadows slanted out lengthwise; those cast by the +horses' bodies were mounted on high spindle-legs. The two men ceased +their trifling, and nudged by the fall of day began to ride at a more +business-like pace, pushing forward through the deep basin of Bacchus's +marsh, and on for miles over wide, treeless plains, to where the road +was joined by the main highway from the north, coming down from Mount +Alexander and the Bendigo. Another hour, and from a gentle eminence the +buildings of Melbourne were visible, the mastheads of the many vessels +riding at anchor in Hobson's Bay. Here, too, the briny scent of the +sea, carrying up over grassy flats, met their nostrils, and set Mahony +hungrily sniffing. The brief twilight came and went, and it was already +night when they urged their weary beasts over the Moonee ponds, a +winding chain of brackish waterholes. The horses shambled along the +broad, hilly tracks of North Melbourne; warily picked their steps +through the city itself. Dingy oil-lamps, set here and there at the +corners of roads so broad that you could hardly see across them, shed +but a meagre light, and the further the riders advanced, the more +difficult became their passage: the streets, in process of laying, were +heaped with stones and intersected by trenches. Finally, dismounting, +they thrust their arms through their bridles, and laboriously covered +the last half-mile of the journey on foot. Having lodged the horses at +a livery-stable, they repaired to a hotel in Little Collins Street. +Here Purdy knew the proprietor, and they were fortunate enough to +secure a small room for the use of themselves alone. + + + + +Chapter V + +Melbourne is built on two hills and the valley that lies between. + +It was over a year since Mahony or Purdy had been last in the capital, +and next morning, on stepping out of the "Adam and Eve," they walked up +the eastern slope to look about them. From the summit of the hill their +view stretched to the waters of the Bay, and its forest of masts. The +nearer foreground was made up of mud flats, through which a sluggish, +coffee-coloured river wound its way to the sea. On the horizon to the +north, the Dandenong Ranges rose storm-blue and distinct, and seemed +momently to be drawing nearer; for a cold wind was blowing, which +promised rain. The friends caught their glimpses of the landscape +between dense clouds of white dust, which blotted everything out for +minutes at a time, and filled eyes, nose, ears with a gritty powder. + +Tiring of this they turned and descended Great Collins Street--a +spacious thoroughfare that dipped into the hollow and rose again, and +was so long that on its western height pedestrians looked no bigger +than ants. In the heart of the city men were everywhere at work, laying +gas and drain-pipes, macadamising, paving, kerbing: no longer would the +old wives' tale be credited of the infant drowned in the deeps of +Swanston Street, or of the bullock which sank, inch by inch, before its +owner's eyes in the Elizabeth Street bog. Massive erections of +freestone were going up alongside here a primitive, canvas-fronted +dwelling, there one formed wholly of galvanised iron. Fashionable +shops, two storeys high, stood next tiny, dilapidated weatherboards. In +the roadway, handsome chaises, landaus, four-in-hands made room for +bullock-teams, eight and ten strong; for tumbrils carrying water or +refuse--or worse; for droves of cattle, mobs of wild colts bound for +auction, flocks of sheep on their way to be boiled down for tallow. +Stock-riders and bull-punchers rubbed shoulders with elegants in +skirted coats and shepherd's plaid trousers, who adroitly skipped heaps +of stones and mortar, or crept along the narrow edging of kerb. + +The visitors from up-country paused to listen to a brass band that +played outside a horse-auction mart; to watch the shooting in a +rifle-gallery. The many decently attired females they met also called +for notice. Not a year ago, and no reputable woman walked abroad +oftener than she could help: now, even at this hour, the streets were +starred with them. Purdy, open-mouthed, his eyes a-dance, turned his +head this way and that, pointed and exclaimed. But then HE had slept +like a log, and felt in his own words "as fit as a fiddle." Whereas +Mahony had sat his horse the whole night through, had never ceased to +balance himself in an imaginary saddle. And when at daybreak he had +fallen into a deeper sleep, he was either reviewing outrageous females +on Purdy's behalf, or accepting wagers to kiss them. + +Hence, diverting as were the sights of the city, he did not come to +them with the naive receptivity of Purdy. It was, besides, hard to +detach his thoughts from the disagreeable affair that had brought him +to Melbourne. And as soon as banks and offices began to take down their +shutters, he hurried off to his interview with the carrying-agent. + +The latter's place of business was behind Great Collins Street, in a +lane reached by a turnpike. Found with some trouble, it proved to be a +rude shanty wedged in between a Chinese laundry and a Chinese +eating-house. The entrance was through a yard in which stood a +collection of rabbit-hutches, while further back gaped a dirty closet. +At the sound of their steps the man they sought emerged, and Mahony +could not repress an exclamation of surprise. When, a little over a +twelvemonth ago, he had first had dealings with him, this Bolliver had +been an alert and respectable man of business. Now he was evidently on +the downgrade; and the cause of the deterioration was advertised in his +bloodshot eyeballs and veinous cheeks. Early as was the hour, he had +already been indulging: his breath puffed sour. Mahony prepared to +state the object of his visit in no uncertain terms. But his +preliminaries were cut short by a volley of abuse. The man accused him +point-blank of having been privy to the rascally drayman's fraud and of +having hoped, by lying low, to evade his liability. Mahony lost his +temper, and vowed that he would have Bolliver up for defamation of +character. To which the latter retorted that the first innings in a +court of law would be his: he had already put the matter in the hands +of his attorney. This was the last straw. Purdy had to intervene and +get Mahony away. They left the agent shaking his fist after them and +cursing the bloody day on which he'd ever been fool enough to do a deal +with a bloody gentleman. + +At the corner of the street the friends paused for a hasty conference. +Mahony was for marching off to take the best legal advice the city had +to offer. But Purdy disapproved. Why put himself to so much trouble, +when he had old Ocock's recommendation to his lawyer-son in his coat +pocket? What, in the name of Leary-cum-Fitz, was the sense of making an +enemy for life of the old man, his next-door neighbour, and a good +customer to boot? + +These counsels prevailed, and they turned their steps towards Chancery +Lane, where was to be found every variety of legal practitioner from +barrister to scrivener. Having matched the house-number and descried +the words: "Mr. Henry Ocock, Conveyancer and Attorney, Commissioner of +Affidavits," painted black on two dusty windows, they climbed a wooden +stair festooned with cobwebs, to a landing where an injunction to: +"Push and Enter!" was, rudely inked on a sheet of paper and affixed to +a door. + +Obeying, they passed into a dingy little room, the entire furnishing of +which consisted of a couple of deal tables, with a chair to each. These +were occupied by a young man and a boy, neither of whom rose at their +entrance. The lad was cutting notches in a stick and whistling +tunefully; the clerk, a young fellow in the early twenties, who had a +mop of flaming red hair and small-slit white-lashed eyes, looked at the +strangers, but without lifting his head: his eyes performed the +necessary motion. + +Mahony desired to know if he had the pleasure of addressing Mr. Henry +Ocock. In reply the red-head gave a noiseless laugh, which he +immediately quenched by clapping his hand over his mouth, and shutting +one eye at his junior said: "No--nor yet the Shar o' Persia, nor +Alphybetical Foster!--What can I do for you, governor?" + +"You can have the goodness to inform Mr. Ocock that I wish to see him!" +flashed back Mahony. + +"Singin' til-ril-i-tum-tum-dee-ay!--Now then, Mike, me child, toddle!" + +With patent reluctance the boy ceased his whittling, and dawdled across +the room to an inner door through which he vanished, having first let +his knuckles bump, as if by chance, against the wood of the panel. A +second later he reappeared. "Boss's engaged." But Mahony surprised a +lightning sign between the pair. + +"No, sir, I decline to state my business to anyone but Mr. Ocock +himself!" he declared hotly, in response to the red-haired man's +invitation to "get it off his chest." "If you choose to find out when +he will be at liberty, I will wait so long--no longer." + +As the office-boy had somehow failed to hit his seat on his passage to +the outer door, there was nothing left for the clerk to do but himself +to undertake the errand. He lounged up from his chair, and, in his case +without even the semblance of a knock, squeezed through a foot wide +aperture, in such a fashion that the two strangers should not catch a +glimpse of what was going on inside. But his voice came to them through +the thin partition. "Oh, just a couple o' stony-broke Paddylanders." +Mahony, who had seized the opportunity to dart an angry glance at +Purdy, which should say: "This is what one gets by coming to your +second-rate pettifoggers!" now let his eyes rest on his friend and +critically detailed the latter's appearance. The description fitted to +a nicety. Purdy did in truth look down on his luck. Unkempt, bearded to +the eyes, there he stood clutching his shapeless old cabbage-tree, in +mud-stained jumper and threadbare smalls--the very spit of the +unsuccessful digger. Well might they be suspected of not owning the +necessary to pay their way! + +"All serene, mister! The boss'ull take you on." + +The sanctum was a trifle larger than the outer room, but almost equally +bare; half-a-dozen deed-boxes were piled up in one corner. Stalking in +with his chin in the air, Mahony found himself in the presence of a man +of his own age, who sat absorbed in the study of a document. At their +entry two beady grey eyes lifted to take a brief but thorough survey, +and a hand with a pencil in it pointed to the single empty chair. +Mahony declined to translate the gesture and remained standing. + +Under the best of circumstances it irked him to be kept waiting. Here, +following on the clerk's saucy familiarity, the wilful delay made his +gorge rise. For a few seconds he fumed in silence; then, his patience +exhausted, he burst out: "My time, sir, is as precious as your own. +With your permission, I will take my business elsewhere." + +At these words, and at the tone in which they were spoken, the lawyer's +head shot up as if he had received a blow under the chin. Again he +narrowed his eyes at the couple. And this time he laid the document +from him and asked suavely: "What can I do for you?" + +The change in his manner though slight was unmistakable. Mahony had a +nice ear for such refinements, and responded to the shade of difference +with the promptness of one who had been on the watch for it. His +irritation fell; he was ready on the instant to be propitiated. Putting +his hat aside he sat down, and having introduced himself, made +reference to Ballarat and his acquaintance with the lawyer's father: +"Who directed me to you, sir, for advice on a vexatious affair, in +which I have had the misfortune to become involved." + +With a "Pray be seated!" Ocock rose and cleared a chair for Purdy. +Resuming his seat he joined his hands, and wound them in and out. "I +think you may take it from me that no case is so unpromising but what +we shall be able to find a loophole." + +Mahony thanked him--with a touch of reserve. "I trust you will still be +of that opinion when you have heard the facts." And went on: "Myself, I +do not doubt it. I am not a rich man, but serious though the monetary +loss would be to me, I should settle the matter out of court, were I +not positive that I had right on my side." To which Ocock returned a +quick: "Oh, quite so ... of course." + +Like his old father, he was a short, heavily built man; but there the +likeness ended. He had a high, domed forehead, above a thin, hooked +nose. His skin was of an almost Jewish pallor. Fringes of straight, +jet-black hair grew down the walls of his cheeks and round his chin, +meeting beneath it. The shaven upper lid was long and flat, with no +central markings, and helped to form a mouth that had not much more +shape or expression than a slit cut by a knife in a sheet of paper. The +chin was bare to the size of a crown-piece; and, both while he spoke +and while he listened to others speaking, the lawyer caressed this +patch with his finger-tips; so that in the course of time it had +arrived at a state of high polish--like the shell of an egg. + +The air with which he heard his new client out was of a non-committal +kind; and Mahony, having talked his first heat off, grew chilled by the +wet blanket of Ocock's silence. There was nothing in this of the frank +responsiveness with which your ordinary mortal lends his ear. The brain +behind the dome was, one might be sure, adding, combining, comparing, +and drawing its own conclusions. Why should lawyers, he wondered, treat +those who came to them like children, advancing only in so far as it +suited them out of the darkness where they housed among strangely +worded paragraphs and obscure formulas?--But these musings were cut +short. Having fondled his chin for a further moment, Ocock looked up +and put a question. And, while he could not but admire the lawyer's +acumen, this did not lessen Mahony's discomfort. All unguided, it went +straight for what he believed to be the one weak spot in his armour. It +related to the drayman. Contrary to custom Mahony had, on this +occasion, himself recommended the driver. And, as he admitted it, his +ears rang again with the plaints of his stranded fellow-countryman, a +wheedler from the South Country, off whose tongue the familiar brogue +had dripped like honey. His recommendation, he explained, had been made +out of charity; he had not forced the agent to engage the man; and it +would surely be a gross injustice if he alone were to be held +responsible. + +To his relief Ocock did not seem to attach importance to the fact, but +went on to ask whether any written agreement had existed between the +parties. "No writing? H'm! So ... so!" To read his thoughts was an +impossibility; but as he proceeded with his catechism it was easy to +see how his interest in the case grew. He began to treat it tenderly; +warmed to it, as an artist to his work; and Mahony's spirits rose in +consequence. + +Having selected a number of minor points that would tell in their +favour, Ocock dilated upon the libellous aspersion that had been cast +on Mahony's good faith. "My experience has invariably been this, Mr. +Mahony: people who suggest that kind of thing, and accuse others of it, +are those who are accustomed to make use of such means themselves. In +this case, there may have been no goods at all--the thing may prove to +have been a put-up job from beginning to end." + +But his hearer's start of surprise was too marked to be overlooked. +"Well, let us take the existence of the goods for granted. But might +they not, being partly of a perishable nature, have gone bad or +otherwise got spoiled on the road, and not have been in a fit condition +for you to receive at your end?" + +This was credible; Mahony nodded his assent. He also added, +gratuitously, that he had before now been obliged to reclaim on casks +of mouldy mess-pork. At which Ocock ceased coddling his chin to point a +straight forefinger at him, with a triumphant: "You see!"--But Purdy +who, sick and tired of the discussion, had withdrawn to the window to +watch the rain zig-zag in runlets down the dusty panes, and hiss and +spatter on the sill; Purdy puckered his lips to a sly and soundless +whistle. + +The interview at an end, Ocock mentioned, in his frigidly urbane way, +that he had recently been informed there was an excellent opening for a +firm of solicitors in Ballarat: could Mr. Mahony, as a resident, +confirm the report? Mahony regretted his ignorance, but spoke in praise +of the Golden City and its assured future.--"This would be most welcome +news to your father, sir. I can picture his satisfaction on hearing it." + +--"Golly, Dick, that's no mopoke!" was Purdy's comment as they emerged +into the rain-swept street. "A crafty devil, if ever I see'd one." + +"Henry Ocock seems to me to be a singularly able man," replied Mahony +drily. To his thinking, Purdy had cut a poor figure during the visit: +he had said no intelligent word, but had lounged lumpishly in his +chair--the very picture of the country man come up to the +metropolis--and, growing tired of this, had gone like a restless child +to thrum his fingers on the panes. + +"Oh, you bet! He'll slither you through." + +"What? Do you insinuate there's any need for slithering ... as you call +it?" cried Mahony. + +"Why, Dick, old man.... And as long as he gets you through, what does +it matter?" + +"It matters to me, sir!" + +The rain, a tropical deluge, was over by the time they reached the +hollow. The sun shone again, hot and sticky, and people were venturing +forth from their shelters to wade through beds of mud, or to cross, on +planks, the deep, swift rivers formed by the open drains. There were +several such cloud-bursts in the course of the afternoon; and each time +the refuse of the city was whirled past on the flood, to be left as an +edging to the footpaths when the water went down. + +Mahony spent the rest of the day in getting together a fresh load of +goods. For, whether he lost or won his suit, the store had to be +restocked without delay. + +That evening towards eight o'clock the two men turned out of the +Lowther Arcade. The night was cold, dark and wet; and they had wound +comforters round their bare throats. They were on their way to the +Mechanics' Hall, to hear a lecture on Mesmerism. Mahony had looked +forward to this all through the sorry job of choosing soaps and +candles. The subject piqued his curiosity. It was the one drop of +mental stimulant he could hope to extract from his visit. The theatre +was out of the question: if none of the actors happened to be drunk, a +fair proportion of the audience was sure to be. + +Part of his pleasure this evening was due to Purdy having agreed to +accompany him. It was always a matter of regret to Mahony that, outside +the hobnob of daily life, he and his friend had so few interests in +common; that Purdy should rest content with the coarse diversions of +the ordinary digger. + +Then, from the black shadows of the Arcade, a woman's form detached +itself, and a hand was laid on Purdy's arm. + +"Shout us a drink, old pal!" + +Mahony made a quick, repellent movement of the shoulder. But Purdy, +some vagrom fancy quickened in him, either by the voice, which was not +unrefined, or by the stealthiness of the approach, Purdy turned to look. + +"Come, come, my boy. We've no time to lose." + +Without raising her pleasant voice, the woman levelled a volley of +abuse at Mahony, then muttered a word in Purdy's ear. + +"Just half a jiff, Dick," said Purdy. "Or go ahead.--I'll make up on +you." + +For a quarter of an hour Mahony aired his heels in front of a +public-house. Then he gave it up, and went on his way. But his pleasure +was damped: the inconsiderateness with which Purdy could shake him off, +always had a disconcerting effect on him. To face the matter squarely: +the friendship between them did not mean as much to Purdy as to him; +the sudden impulse that had made the boy relinquish a promising +clerkship to emigrate in his wake--into this he had read more than it +would hold.-- And, as he picked his muddy steps, Mahony agreed with +himself that the net result, for him, of Purdy's coming to the colony, +had been to saddle him with a new responsibility. It was his lot for +ever to be helping the lad out of tight places. Sometimes it made him +feel unnecessarily bearish. For Purdy had the knack, common to sunny, +improvident natures, of taking everything that was done for him for +granted. His want of delicacy in this respect was distressing. Yet, in +spite of it all, it was hard to bear him a grudge for long together. A +well-meaning young beggar if ever there was one! That very day how +faithfully he had stuck at his side, assisting at dull discussions and +duller purchasings, without once obtruding his own concerns.--And here +Mahony remembered their talk on the ride to town. Purdy had expressed +the wish to settle down and take a wife. A poor friend that would be +who did not back him up in this intention. + +As he sidled into one of the front benches of a half-empty hall--the +mesmerist, a corpse-like man in black, already surveyed its thinness +from the platform with an air of pained surprise--Mahony decided that +Purdy should have his chance. The heavy rains of the day, and the +consequent probable flooding of the Ponds and the Marsh, would serve as +an excuse for a change of route. He would go and have a look at Purdy's +sweetheart; would ride back to the diggings by way of Geelong. + + + + +Chapter VI + +In a whitewashed parlour of "Beamish's Family Hotel" some few miles +north of Geelong, three young women, in voluminous skirts and with +their hair looped low over their ears, sat at work. Books lay open on +the table before two of them; the third was making a bookmark. Two were +fair, plump, rosy, and well over twenty; the third, pale-skinned and +dark, was still a very young girl. She it was who stitched magenta +hieroglyphics on a strip of perforated cardboard. + +"Do lemme see, Poll," said the eldest of the trio, and laid down her +pen. "You 'AVE bin quick about it, my dear." + +Polly, the brunette, freed her needle of silk and twirled the bookmark +by its ribbon ends. Spinning, the mystic characters united to form the +words: "Kiss me quick." + +Her companions tittered. "If ma didn't know for certain 'twas meant for +your brother John, she'd never 'ave let you make it," said the second +blonde, whose name was Jinny. + +"Girls, what a lark it 'ud be to send it up to Purdy Smith, by Ned!" +said the first speaker. + +Polly blushed. "Fy, Tilly! That wouldn't be ladylike." + +Tilly's big bosom rose and fell in a sigh. "What's a lark never is." + +Jinny giggled, agreeably scandalized: "What things you do say, Till! +Don't let ma 'ear you, that's all." + +"Ma be blowed!--'Ow does this look now, Polly?" And across the +wax-cloth Tilly pushed a copybook, in which she had laboriously +inscribed a prim maxim the requisite number of times. + +Polly laid down her work and knitted her brows over the page. + +"Well ... it's better than the last one, Tilly," she said gently, +averse to hurting her pupil's feelings. "But still not quite good +enough. The f's, look, should be more like this." And taking a steel +pen she made several long-tailed f's, in a tiny, pointed hand. + +Tilly yielded an ungrudging admiration. "'Ow well you do it, Poll! But +I HATE writing. If only ma weren't so set on it!" + +"You'll never be able to write yourself to a certain person, 'oos name +I won't mention, if you don't 'urry up and learn," said Jinny, looking +sage. + +"What's the odds! We've always got Poll to write for us," gave back +Tilly, and lazily stretched out a large, plump hand to recover the +copybook. "A certain person'll never know--or not till it's too late." + +"Here, Polly dear," said Jinny, and held out a book. "I know it now." + +Again Polly put down her embroidery. She took the book. "Plough!" said +she. + +"Plough?" echoed Jinny vaguely, and turned a pair of soft, cow-like +brown eyes on the blowflies sitting sticky and sleepy round the walls +of the room. "Wait a jiff ... lemme think! Plough? Oh, yes, I know. +P-l...." + +"P-l-o" prompted Polly, the speller coming to a full stop. + +"P-l-o-w!" shot out Jinny, in triumph. + +"Not QUITE right," said Polly. "It's g-h, Jinny: p-l-o-u-g-h." + +"Oh, that's what I meant. I knew it right enough." + +"Well, now, trough!" + +"Trough?" repeated Jinny, in the same slow, vacant way. + +"Trough? Wait, lemme think a minute. T-r-o...." + +Polly's lips all but formed the "u," to prevent the "f" she felt +impending. "I'm afraid you'll have to take it again, Jinny dear," she +said reluctantly, as nothing further was forthcoming. + +"Oh, no, Poll. T-r-o-" began Jinny with fresh vigour. But before she +could add a fourth to the three letters, a heavy foot pounded down the +passage, and a stout woman, out of breath, her cap-bands flying, came +bustling in and slammed the door. + +"Girls, girls, now whatever d'ye think? 'Ere's Purdy Smith come ridin' +inter the yard, an' another gent with 'im. Scuttle along now, an' put +them books away!--Tilda, yer net's 'alf 'angin' off--you don't want yer +sweet-'eart to see you all untidy like that, do you?--'Elp 'em, Polly +my dear, and be quick about it!--H'out with yer sewin', chicks!" + +Sprung up from their seats the three girls darted to and fro. The +telltale spelling and copy-books were flung into the drawer of the +chiffonier, and the key was turned on them. Polly, her immodest sampler +safely hidden at the bottom of her workbox, was the most composed of +the three; and while locks were smoothed and collars adjusted in the +adjoining bedroom, she remained behind to look out thimbles, needles +and strips of plain sewing, and to lay them naturally about the table. + +The blonde sisters reappeared, all aglow with excitement. Tilly, in +particular, was in a sad flutter. + +"Girls, I simply CAN'T face 'im in 'ere!" she declared. "It was 'ere, +in this very room, that 'e first--you know what!" + +"Nor can I," cried Jinny, catching the fever. + +"Feel my 'eart, 'ow it beats," said her sister, pressing her hands, one +over the other, to her full left breast. + +"Mine's every bit as bad," averred Jinny. + +"I believe I shall 'ave the palpitations and faint away, if I stop +'ere." + +Polly was genuinely concerned. "I'll run and call mother back." + +"No, I tell you what: let's 'ide!" cried Tilly, recovering. + +Jinny wavered. "But will they find us?" + +"Duffer! Of course. Ma'll give 'em the 'int.--Come on!" + +Suiting the action to the word, and imitated by her sister, she +scrambled over the window sill to the verandah. Polly found herself +alone. Her conscientious scrupling: "But mother may be cross!" had +passed unheeded. Now, she, too, fell into a flurry. She could not +remain there, by herself, to meet two young men, one of whom was a +stranger: steps and voices were already audible at the end of the +passage. And so, since there was nothing else for it, she clambered +after her friends--though with difficulty; for she was not very tall. + +This was why, when Mrs. Beamish flourished open the door, exclaiming in +a hearty tone: "An' 'ere you'll find 'em, gents--sittin' at their +needles, busy as bees!" the most conspicuous object in the room was a +very neat leg, clad in a white stocking and black prunella boot, which +was just being drawn up over the sill. It flashed from sight; and the +patter of running feet beat the floor of the verandah. + +"Ha, ha, too late! The birds have flown," laughed Purdy, and smacked +his thigh. + +"Well, I declare, an' so they 'ave--the NAUGHTY creatures!" exclaimed +Mrs. Beamish in mock dismay. "But trust you, Mr. Smith, for sayin' the +right thing. Jus' exackly like birds they are--so shy an' scared-like. +But I'll give you the 'int, gents. They'll not be far away. Jus' you +show 'em two can play at that game.--Mr. S., you know the h'arbour!" + +"Should say I do! Many's the time I've anchored there," cried Purdy +with a guffaw. "Come, Dick!" And crossing to the window he straddled +over the frame, and disappeared. + +Reluctantly Mahony followed him. + +From the verandah they went down into the vegetable-garden, where the +drab and tangled growths that had outlived the summer were beaten flat +by the recent rains. At the foot of the garden, behind a clump of +gooseberry-bushes, stood an arbour formed of a yellow buddleia. No +trace of a petticoat was visible, so thick was the leafage; but a loud +whispering and tittering betrayed the fugitives. + +At the apparition of the young men, who stooped to the low entrance, +there was a cascade of shrieks. + +"Oh, lor, 'OW you frightened me! 'Owever did you know we were 'ere?" + +"You wicked fellow! Get away, will you! I 'ate the very sight of +you!"--this from Tilly, as Purdy, his hands on her hips, gave her a +smacking kiss. + +The other girls feared a like greeting; there were more squeaks and +squeals, and some ineffectual dives for the doorway. Purdy spread out +his arms. "Hi, look out, stop 'em, Dick! Now then, man, here's your +chance!" + +Mahony stood blinking; it was dusk inside, after the dazzle of the sun. +At this reminder of the foolish bet he had taken, he hurriedly seized +the young woman who was next him, and embraced her. It chanced to be +Jinny. She screamed, and made a feint of feeling mortally outraged. +Mahony had to dodge a box on the ears. + +But Purdy burst into a horselaugh, and held his sides. Without knowing +why, Tilly joined in, and Jinny, too, was infected. When Purdy could +speak, he blurted out: "Dick, you fathead!--you jackass!--you've mugged +the wrong one." + +At this clownish mirth, Mahony felt the blood boil up over ears and +temples. For an instant he stood irresolute. Did he admit the blunder, +his victim would be hurt. Did he deny it, he would save his own face at +the expense of the other young woman's feelings. So, though he could +have throttled Purdy he put a bold front on the matter. + +"CARPE DIEM is my motto, my boy! I intend to make both young ladies pay +toll." + +His words were the signal for a fresh scream and flutter: the third +young person had escaped, and was flying down the path. This called for +chase and capture. She was not very agile but she knew the ground, +which, outside the garden, was rocky and uneven. For a time, she had +Mahony at vantage; his heart was not in the game: in cutting +undignified capers among the gooseberry-bushes he felt as foolish as a +performing dog. Then, however, she caught her toe in her dress and +stumbled. He could not disregard the opportunity; he advanced upon her. + +But two beseeching hands fended him off. "No ... no. Please ... oh, +PLEASE, don't!" + +This was no catchpenny coquetry; it was a genuine dread of undue +familiarity. A kindred trait in Mahony's own nature rose to meet it. + +"Certainly not, if it is disagreeable to you. Shall we shake hands +instead?" + +Two of the blackest eyes he had ever seen were raised to his, and a +flushed face dimpled. They shook hands, and he offered his arm. + +Halfway to the arbour, they met the others coming to find them. The +girls bore diminutive parasols; and Purdy, in rollicking spirits, Tilly +on one arm, Jinny on the other, held Polly's above his head. On the +appearance of the laggards, Jinny, who had put her own interpretation +on the misplaced kiss, prepared to free her arm; but Purdy, winking at +his friend, squeezed it to his side and held her prisoner. + +Tilly buzzed a word in his ear. + +"Yes, by thunder!" he ejaculated; and letting go of his companions, he +spun round like a ballet-dancer. "Ladies! Let me introduce to you my +friend, Dr. Richard Townshend-Mahony, F.R.C.S., M.D., Edinburgh, at +present proprietor of the 'Diggers' Emporium,' Dead Dog Hill, Ballarat. +--Dick, my hearty, Miss Tilly Beamish, world-famed for her sauce; Miss +Jinny, renowned for her skill in casting the eyes of sheep; and, last +but not least, pretty little Polly Perkins, alias Miss Polly Turnham, +whose good deeds put those of Dorcas to the blush." + +The Misses Beamish went into fits of laughter, and Tilly hit Purdy over +the back with her parasol. + +But the string of letters had puzzled them, roused their curiosity. + +"What'n earth do they mean?--Gracious! So clever! It makes me feel +quite queer." + +"Y'ought to 'ave told us before 'and, Purd, so's we could 'ave studied +up." + +However, a walk to a cave was under discussion, and Purdy urged them +on. "Phoebus is on the wane, girls. And it's going to be damn cold +to-night." + +Once more with the young person called Polly as companion, Mahony +followed after. He walked in silence, listening to the rattle of the +three in front. At best he was but a poor hand at the kind of repartee +demanded of their swains by these young women; and to-day his slender +talent failed him altogether, crushed by the general tone of vulgar +levity. Looking over at the horizon, which swam in a kind of gold-dust +haze below the sinking sun, he smiled thinly to himself at Purdy's +ideas of wiving. + +Reminded he was not alone by feeling the hand on his arm tremble, he +glanced down at his companion; and his eye was arrested by a neatly +parted head, of the glossiest black imaginable. + +He pulled himself together. "Your cousins are excellent walkers." + +"Oh, yes, very. But they are not my cousins." + +Mahony pricked up his ears. "But you live here?" + +"Yes. I help moth ... Mrs. Beamish in the house." + +But as if, with this, she had said too much, she grew tongue-tied +again; and there was nothing more to be made of her. Taking pity on her +timidity, Mahony tried to put her at ease by talking about himself. He +described his life on the diggings and the straits to which he was at +times reduced: the buttons affixed to his clothing by means of +gingerbeer-bottle wire; his periodic onslaughts on sock-darning; the +celebrated pudding it had taken him over four hours to make. And Polly, +listening to him, forgot her desire to run away. Instead, she could not +help laughing at the tales of his masculine shiftlessness. But as soon +as they came in view of the others, Tilly and Purdy sitting under one +parasol on a rock by the cave, Jinny standing and looking out rather +aggressively after the loiterers, she withdrew her arm. + +"Moth ... Mrs. Beamish will need me to help her with tea. And ... and +WOULD you please walk back with Jinny?" + +Before he could reply, she had turned and was hurrying away. + +They got home from the cave at sundown, he with the ripe Jinny hanging +a dead weight on his arm, to find tea spread in the private parlour. +The table was all but invisible under its load; and their hostess +looked as though she had been parboiled on her own kitchen fire. She +sat and fanned herself with a sheet of newspaper while, time and again, +undaunted by refusals, she pressed the good things upon her guests. +There were juicy beefsteaks piled high with rings of onion, and a +barracoota, and a cold leg of mutton. There were apple-pies and +jam-tarts, a dish of curds-and-whey and a jug of custard. Butter and +bread were fresh and new; scones and cakes had just left the oven; and +the great cups of tea were tempered by pure, thick cream. + +To the two men who came from diggers' fare: cold chop for breakfast, +cold chop for dinner and cold chop for tea: the meal was little short +of a banquet; and few words were spoken in its course. But the moment +arrived when they could eat no more, and when even Mrs. Beamish ceased +to urge them. Pipes and pouches were produced; Polly and Jinny rose to +collect the plates, Tilly and her beau to sit on the edge of the +verandah: they could be seen in silhouette against the rising moon, +Tilly's head drooping to Purdy's shoulder. + +Mrs. Beamish looked from them to Mahony with a knowing smile, and +whispered behind her hand: "I do wish those two 'ud 'urry up an' make +up their minds, that I do! I'd like to see my Tilda settled. No offence +meant to young Smith. 'E's the best o' good company. But sometimes ... +well, I cud jus' knock their 'eads together when they sit so close, an' +say: come, give over yer spoonin' an' get to business! Either you want +one another or you don't.--I seen you watchin' our Polly, Mr. +Mahony"--she made Mahony wince by stressing the second syllable of his +name. "Bless you, no--no relation whatsoever. She just 'elps a bit in +the 'ouse, an' is company for the girls. We tuck 'er in a year ago--'er +own relations 'ad played 'er a dirty trick. Mustn't let 'er catch me +sayin' so, though; she won't 'ear a word against 'em, and that's as it +should be." + +Looking round, and finding Polly absent from the room, she went on to +tell Mahony how Polly's eldest brother, a ten years' resident in +Melbourne, had sent to England for the girl on her leaving school, to +come out and assist in keeping his house. And how an elder sister, who +was governessing in Sydney, had chosen just this moment to throw up her +post and return to quarter herself upon the brother. + +"An' so when Polly gets 'ere--a little bit of a thing in short frocks, +in charge of the capt'n--there was no room for 'er, an' she 'ad to look +about 'er for somethin' else to do. We tuck 'er in, an', I will say, +I've never regretted it. Indeed I don't know now, 'ow we ever got on +without 'er.--Yes, it's you I'm talkin' about, miss, singin' yer +praises, an' you needn't get as red as if you'd bin up to mischief! +Pa'll say as much for you, too." + +"That I will!" said Mr. Beamish, opening his mouth for the first time +except to put food in it. "That I will," and he patted Polly's hand. +"The man as gits Polly'll git a treasure." + +Polly blushed, after the helpless, touching fashion of very young +creatures: the blood stained her cheeks, mounted to her forehead, +spread in a warm wave over neck and ears. To spare her, Mahony turned +his head and looked out of the window. He would have liked to say: Run +away, child, run away, and don't let them see your confusion. Polly, +however, went conscientiously about her task, and only left the room +when she had picked up her full complement of plates.--But she did not +appear again that night. + +Deserted even by Mrs. Beamish, the two men pushed back their chairs +from the table and drew tranquilly at their pipes. + +The innkeeper proved an odd, misty sort of fellow, exceedingly backward +at declaring himself; it was as though each of his heavy words had to +be fetched from a distance. "No doubt about it, it's the wife that +wears the breeches," was Mahony's inward comment. And as one after +another of his well-meant remarks fell flat: "Become almost a +deaf-mute, it would seem, under the eternal female clacking." + +But for each mortal there exists at least one theme to fire him. In the +case of Beamish this turned out to be the Land Question. Before the +gold discovery he had been a bush shepherd, he told Mahony, and, if he +had called the tune, he would have lived and died one. But the wife had +had ambitions, the children were growing up, and every one knew what it +was when women got a maggot in their heads. There had been no peace for +him till he had chucked his twelve-year-old job and joined the rush to +Mount Alexander. But at heart he had remained a bushman; and he was now +all on the side of the squatters in their tussle with the Crown. He +knew a bit, he'd make bold to say, about the acreage needed in certain +districts per head of sheep; he could tell a tale of the risks and +mischances squatting involved: "If t'aint fire it's flood, an' if the +water passes you by it's the scab or the rot." To his thinking, the +government's attempt to restrict the areas of sheep-runs, and to give +effect to the "fourteen-year-clause" which limited the tenure, were +acts of folly. The gold supply would give out as suddenly as it had +begun; but sheep would graze there till the crack of doom--the land was +fit for nothing else. + +Mahony thought this point of view lopsided. No new country could hope +to develop and prosper without a steady influx of the right kind of +population and this the colony would never have, so long as the +authorities, by refusing to sell them land, made it impossible for +immigrants to settle there. Why, America was but three thousand miles +distant from the old country, compared with Australia's thirteen +thousand, and in America land was to be had in plenty at five shillings +per acre. As to Mr. Beamish's idea of the gold giving out, the +geological formation of the goldfields rendered that improbable. He +sympathised with the squatters, who naturally enough believed their +rights to the land inalienable; but a government worthy of the name +must legislate with an eye to the future, not for the present alone. + +Their talk was broken by long gaps. In these, the resonant voice of +Mrs. Beamish could be heard rebuking and directing her two handmaidens. + +"Now then, Jinny, look alive, an' don't ack like a dyin' duck in a +thunderstorm, or you'll never get back to do YOUR bit o' spoonin'!-- +Save them bones, Polly. Never waste an atom, my chuck--remember that, +when you've got an 'ouse of your own! No, girls, I always says, through +their stomachs, that's the shortcut to their 'earts. The rest's on'y +fal-de-lal-ing."--On the verandah, in face of the vasty, star-spangled +night, Tilly's head had found its resting-place, and an arm lay round +her waist. + +"I shall make 'im cut off 'is beard first thing," said Jinny that +night: she was sitting half-undressed on the side of a big bed, which +the three girls shared with one another. + +"Um! just you wait and see if it's as easy as you think," retorted +Tilly from her pillow. Again Purdy had let slip a golden chance to put +the decisive question; and Tilly's temper was short in consequence. + +"Mrs. Dr. Mahony ... though I do wonder 'ow 'e ever keeps people from +saying Ma-HON-y," said Jinny dreamily. She, too, had spent some time in +star-gazing, and believed she had ground for hope. + +"Just listen to 'er, will you!" said Tilly angrily. "Upon my word, +Jinny Beamish, if one didn't know you 'ad the 'abit of marrying +yourself off to every fresh cove you meet, one 'ud say you was +downright bold!" + +"YOU needn't talk! Every one can see you're as mad as can be because +you can't bring your old dot-and-go-one to the scratch." + +"Oh, hush, Jinny" said Polly, grieved at this thrust into Tilly's open +wound. + +"Well, it's true.--Oh, look 'ere now, there's not a drop o' water in +this blessed jug again. 'Oo's week is it to fill it? Tilly B., it's +yours!" + +"Serves you right. You can fetch it yourself." + +"Think I see myself!" + +Polly intervened. "I'll go for it, Jinny." + +"What a little duck you are, Poll! But you shan't go alone. I'll carry +the candle." + +Tying on a petticoat over her bedgown, Polly took the ewer, and with +Jinny as torch-bearer set forth. There was still some noise in the +public part of the house, beside the bar; but the passage was bare and +quiet. The girls crept mousily past the room occupied by the two young +men, and after several false alarms and suppressed chirps reached the +back door, and filled the jug at the tap of the galvanised-iron tank. + +The return journey was not so successful. Just as they got level with +the visitors' room, they heard feet crossing the floor. Polly started; +the water splashed over the neck of the jug, and fell with a loud plop. +At this Jinny lost her head and ran off with the candle. Polly, in a +panic of fright, dived into the pantry with her burden, and crouched +down behind a tub of fermenting gingerbeer.--And sure enough, a minute +after, the door of the room opposite was flung open and a pair of +jackboots landed in the passage. + +Nor was this the worst: the door was not shut again but remained ajar. +Through the chink, Polly, shrunk to her smallest--what if one of them +should feel hungry, and come into the pantry and discover her?--Polly +heard Purdy say with appalling loudness: "Oh, go on, old man-don't jaw +so!" He then seemed to plunge his head in the basin, for it was with a +choke and a splutter that he next inquired: "And what did you think of +the little 'un? Wasn't I right?" + +There was the chink of coins handled, and the other voice answered: +"Here's what I think. Take your money, my boy, and be done with it!" + +"Dick!--Great Snakes! Why, damn it all, man, you don't mean to tell +me...." + +"And understand, sir, in future, that I do not make bets where a lady +is concerned." + +"Oh, I know--only on the Tilly-Jinny-sort. And yet good Lord, +Dick!"--the rest was drowned in a bawl of laughter. + +Under cover of it Polly took to her heels and fled, regardless of the +open door, or the padding of her bare feet on the boards. + +Without replying to the astonished Jinny's query in respect of the +water, she climbed over Tilly to her place beside the wall, and +shutting her eyes very tight, drew the sheet over her face: it felt as +though it would never be cool again.--Hence, Jinny, agreeably wakeful, +was forced to keep her thoughts to herself; for if you lie between two +people, one of whom is in a bad temper, and the other fast asleep, you +might just as well be alone in bed. + +Next morning Polly alleged a headache and did not appear at breakfast. +Only Jinny and Tilly stood on the verandah of romantic memories, and +ruefully waved their handkerchiefs, keeping it up till even the forms +of horses were blurred in the distance. + + + + +Chapter VII + +His tent-home had never seemed so comfortless. He ended his solitary +ride late at night and wet to the skin; his horse had cast a shoe far +from any smithy. Long Jim alone came to the door to greet him. The +shopman, on whose doltish honesty Mahony would have staked his head, +had profited by his absence to empty the cash-box and go off on the +spree.-- Even one of the cats had met its fate in an old shaft, where +its corpse still swam. + +The following day, as a result of exposure and hard riding, Mahony was +attacked by dysentery; and before he had recovered, the goods arrived +from Melbourne. They had to be unloaded, at some distance from the +store, conveyed there, got under cover, checked off and arranged. This +was carried out in sheets of cold rain, which soaked the canvas walls +and made it doubly hard to get about the clay tracks that served as +streets. As if this were not enough, the river in front of the house +rose--rose, and in two twos was over its banks--and he and Long Jim +spent a night in their clothes, helping neighbours less fortunately +placed to move their belongings into safety. + +The lion's share of this work fell on him. Long Jim still carried his +arm in a sling, and was good for nothing but to guard the store and +summon Mahony on the appearance of customers. Since his accident, too, +the fellow had suffered from frequent fits of colic or cramp, and was +for ever slipping off to the township to find the spirits in which his +employer refused to deal. For the unloading and warehousing of the +goods, it was true, old Ocock had loaned his sons; but the strict watch +Mahony felt bound to keep over this pretty pair far outweighed what +their help was worth to him. + +Now it was Sunday evening, and for the first time for more than a week +he could call his soul his own again. He stood at the door and watched +those of his neighbours who were not Roman Catholics making for church +and chapel, to which half a dozen tinkly bells invited them. The +weather had finally cleared up, and a goodly number of people waded +past him through the mire. Among them, in seemly Sabbath dress, went +Ocock, with his two black sheep at heel. The old man was a rigid +Methodist, and at a recent prayer-meeting had been moved to bear public +witness to his salvation. This was no doubt one reason why the young +scapegrace Tom's almost simultaneous misconduct had been so bitter a +pill for him to swallow: while, through God's mercy, he was become an +exemplar to the weaker brethren, a son of his made his name to stink in +the nostrils of the reputable community. Mahony liked to believe that +there was good in everybody, and thought the intolerant harshness which +the boy was subjected would defeat its end. Yet it was open to question +if clemency would have answered better. "Bad eggs, the brace of them!" +had been his own verdict, after a week's trial of the lads. One would +not, the other apparently could not work. Johnny, the elder, was dull +and liverish from intemperance; and the round-faced adolescent, the +news of whose fatherhood had raced the wind, was so sheep-faced, so +craven, in the presence of his elders, that he could not say bo to a +battledore. There was something unnatural about this fierce +timidity--and the doctor in Mahony caught a quick glimpse of the +probable reverse of the picture. + +But it was cold, in face of all this rain-soaked clay; cold blue-grey +clouds drove across a washed-out sky; and he still felt unwell. +Returning to his living-room where a small American stove was burning, +he prepared for a quiet evening. In a corner by the fire stood an old +packing-case. He lifted the lid and thrust his hand in: it was here he +kept his books. He needed no light to see by; he knew each volume by +the feel. And after fumbling for a little among the tumbled contents, +he drew forth a work on natural science and sat down to read. But he +did not get far; his brain was tired, intractable. Lighting his pipe, +he tilted back his chair, laid the VESTIGES face downwards, and put his +feet on the table. + +How differently bashfulness impressed one in the case of the weaker +sex! There, it was altogether pleasing. Young Ocock's gaucherie had +recalled the little maid Polly's ingenuous confusion, at finding +herself the subject of conversation. He had not once consciously +thought of Polly since his return. Now, when he did so, he found to his +surprise that she had made herself quite a warm little nest in his +memory. Looked back on, she stood out in high relief against her +somewhat graceless surroundings. Small doubt she was both maidenly and +refined. He also remembered with a sensible pleasure her brisk service, +her consideration for others. What a boon it would have been, during +the past week, to have a busy, willing little woman at work, with him +and for him, behind the screen! As it was, for want of a helping hand +the place was like a pigsty. He had had neither time nor energy to +clean up. The marks of hobnailed boots patterned the floor; loose mud, +and crumbs from meals, had been swept into corners or under the +stretcher-bed; while commodities that had overflowed the shop added to +the disorder. Good Lord, no! ... no place this for a woman. + +He rose and moved restlessly about, turning things over with his foot: +these old papers should be burnt, and that heap of straw-packing; those +empty sardine and coffee-tins be thrown into the refuse-pit. Scrubbed +and clean, it was by no means an uncomfortable room; and the stove drew +well. He was proud of his stove; many houses had not even a chimney. He +stood and stared at it; but his thoughts were elsewhere: he found +himself trying to call to mind Polly's face. Except for a pair of big +black eyes--magnificent eyes they seemed to him in retrospect--he had +carried away with him nothing of her outward appearance. Yes, +stay!--her hair: her hair was so glossy that, when the sun caught it, +high lights came out on it--so much he remembered. From this he fell to +wondering whether her brain kept pace with her nimble hands and ways. +Was she stupid or clever? He could not tolerate stupidity. And Polly +had given him no chance to judge her; had hardly opened her lips before +him. What a timid little thing she was to be sure! He should have made +it his business to draw her out, by being kind and encouraging. Instead +of which he had acted towards her, he felt convinced, like an +ill-mannered boor. + +He did not know how it was, but he couldn't detach his thoughts from +Polly this evening: to their accompaniment he paced up and down. All of +a sudden he stood still, and gave a short, hearty laugh. He had just +seen, in a kind of phantom picture, the feet of the sisters Beamish as +they sat on the verandah edge: both young women wore flat sandal-shoes. +And so that neatest of neat ankles had been little Polly's property! +For his life he loved a well-turned ankle in a woman. + +A minute later he sat down at the table again. An idea had occurred to +him: he would write Polly a letter--a letter that called for +acknowledgment--and form an opinion of the girl from her reply. Taking +a sheet of thin blue paper and a magnum bonum pen he wrote: + + +DEAR MISS TURNHAM, + +I WONDER IF I MIGHT ASK YOU TO DO ME A FAVOUR? ON GETTING BACK TO +BALLARAT, I FIND THAT THE RAIN HAS SPOILT MY STORE FLAG. WOULD YOU BE +SO KIND AS TO MAKE ME A NEW ONE? I HAVE NO LADY FRIENDS HERE TO APPLY +TO FOR HELP, AND I AM SURE YOU ARE CLEVER WITH YOUR NEEDLE. IF YOU +CONSENT, I WILL SEND YOU THE OLD FLAG AS A PATTERN, AND STUFF FOR THE +NEW ONE. MY KIND REGARDS TO ALL AT THE HOTEL. + +FAITHFULLY YOURS, + +RICHARD TOWNSHEND-MAHONY. + +P.S. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN OUR PLEASANT WALK TO THE CAVE. + + +He went out to the post with it himself. In one hand he carried the +letter, in the other the candle-end stuck in a bottle that was known as +a "Ballarat-lantern" for it was a pitchdark night. + +Trade was slack; in consequence he found the four days that had to pass +before he could hope for an answer exceptionally long. After their +lapse, he twice spent an hour at the Post Office, in a fruitless +attempt to get near the little window. On returning from the second of +these absences, he found the letter waiting for him; it had been +delivered by hand. + +So far good: Polly had risen to his fly! He broke the seal. + + +DEAR SIR, + +I shall be happy to help you with your new flag if I am able. Will you +kindly send the old one and the stuff down by my brother, who is coming +to see me on Saturday. He is working at Rotten Gully, and his name is +Ned. I do not know if I sew well enough to please you, but I will do my +best. + +I REMAIN, + +YOURS TRULY, + +MARY TURNHAM. + + +Mahony read, smiled and laid the letter down--only to pick it up again. +It pleased him, did this prim little note: there was just the right +shade of formal reserve about it. Then he began to study particulars: +grammar and spelling were correct; the penmanship was in the Italian +style, minute, yet flowing, the letters dowered with generous loops and +tails. But surely he had seen this writing before? By Jupiter, yes! +This was the hand of the letter Purdy had shown him on the road to +Melbourne. The little puss! So she not only wrote her own letters, but +those of her friends as well. In that case she was certainly not stupid +for she was much the youngest of the three. + +To-day was Thursday. Summoning Long Jim from his seat behind the +counter, Mahony dispatched him to Rotten Gully, with an injunction not +to show himself till he had found a digger of the name of Turnham. And +having watched Jim set out, at a snail's pace and murmuring to himself, +Mahony went into the store, and measured and cut off material for the +new flag, from two different coloured rolls of stuff. + +It was ten o'clock that night before Polly's brother presented himself. +Mahony met him at the door and drew him in: the stove crackled, the +room was swept and garnished--he flattered himself that the report on +his habitat would be a favourable one. Ned's appearance gave him a +pleasant shock: it was just as if Polly herself, translated into male +terms, stood before him. No need, now, to cudgel his brains for her +image! In looking at Ned, he looked again at Polly. The wide-awake off, +the same fine, soft, black hair came to light--here, worn rather long +and curly--the same glittering black eyes, ivory-white skin, short, +straight nose; and, as he gazed, an offshoot of Mahony's consciousness +wondered from what quarter this middle-class English family fetched its +dark, un-English strain. + +In the beginning he exerted himself to set the lad at ease. He soon +saw, however, that he might spare his pains. Though clearly not much +more than eighteen years old, Ned Turnharn had the aplomb and assurance +of double that age. Lolling back in the single armchair the room +boasted, he more than once stretched out his hand and helped himself +from the sherry bottle Mahony had placed on the table. And the +disparity in their ages notwithstanding, there was no trace of +deference in his manner. Or the sole hint of it was: he sometimes +smothered a profane word, or apologised, with a winning smile, for an +oath that had slipped out unawares. Mahony could not accustom him self +to the foul language that formed the diggers' idiom. Here, in the case +of Polly's brother, he sought to overlook the offence, or to lay the +blame for it on other shoulders: at his age, and alone, the boy should +never have been plunged into this Gehenna. + +Ned talked mainly of himself and his doings. But other facts also +transpired, of greater interest to his hearer. Thus Mahony learned +that, out of a family of nine, four had found their way to the colony, +and a fifth was soon to follow--a mere child this, on the under side of +fifteen. He gathered, too, that the eldest brother, John by name, was +regarded as a kind of Napoleon by the younger fry. At thirty, this John +was a partner in the largest wholesale dry-goods' warehouse in +Melbourne. He had also married money, and intended in due course to +stand for the Legislative Council. Behind Ned's windy bragging Mahony +thought he discerned tokens of a fond, brotherly pride. If this were +so, the affair had its pathetic side; for, from what the boy said, it +was evident that the successful man of business held his relatives at +arm's length. And as Ned talked on, Mahony conceived John to himself as +a kind of electro-magnet, which, once it had drawn these lesser +creatures after it, switched off the current and left them to their own +devices. Ned, young as he was, had tried his hand at many trades. At +present he was working as a hired digger; but this, only till he could +strike a softer job. Digging was not for him, thank you; what you +earned at it hardly repaid you for the sweat you dripped. His every +second word, indeed, was of how he could amass most money with the +minimum of bodily exertion. + +This calculating, unyouthful outlook was repugnant to Mahony, and for +all his goodwill, the longer he listened to Ned, the cooler he felt +himself grow. Another disagreeable impression was left by the grudging, +if-nothing-better-turns-up fashion, in which Ned accepted an impulsive +offer on his part to take him into the store. It was made on the spur +of the moment, and Mahony had qualms about it while his words were +still warm on the air, realizing that the overture was aimed, not at +Ned in person, but at Ned as Polly's brother. But his intuition did not +reconcile him to Ned's luke-warmness; he would have preferred a +straight refusal. The best trait he could discover in the lad was his +affection for his sister. This seemed genuine: he was going to see her +again--getting a lift halfway, tramping the other twenty odd miles--at +the end of the week. Perhaps though, in the case of such a young +opportunist, the thought of Mrs. Beamish's lavish board played no small +part; for Ned had a rather lean, underfed look. But this only occurred +to Mahony afterwards. Then, his chief vexation was with himself: it +would have been kinder to set a dish of solid food before the boy, in +place of the naked sherry-bottle. But as usual, his hospitable leanings +came too late. + +One thing more. As he lighted Ned and his bundle of stuff through the +shop, he was impelled to slip a coin into the boy's hand, with a +murmured apology for the trouble he had put him to. And a something, +the merest nuance in Ned's manner of receiving and pocketing the money, +flashed the uncomfortable suspicion through the giver's mind that it +had been looked for, expected. And this was the most unpleasant touch +of all. + +But, bless his soul! did not most large families include at least one +poorish specimen?--he had got thus far, by the time he came to wind up +his watch for the night. And next day he felt sure he had judged Ned +over-harshly. His first impressions of people--he had had occasion to +deplore the fact before now--were apt to be either dead white or black +as ink; the web of his mind took on no half tints. The boy had not +betrayed any actual vices; and time might be trusted to knock the +bluster out of him. With this reflection Mahony dismissed Ned from his +mind. He had more important things to think of, chief among which was +his own state with regard to Ned's sister. And during the fortnight +that followed he went about making believe to weigh this matter, to +view it from every coign; for it did not suit him, even in secret, to +confess to the vehemence with which, when he much desired a thing, his +temperament knocked flat the hurdles of reason. The truth was, his mind +was made up--and had been, all along. At the earliest possible +opportunity, he was going to ask Polly to be his wife. + +Doubts beset him of course. How could he suppose that a girl who knew +nothing of him, who had barely seen him, would either want or consent +to marry him? And even if--for "if's" were cheap--she did say yes, +would it be fair of him to take her out of a comfortable home, away +from friends--such as they were!--of her own sex, to land her in these +crude surroundings, where he did not know a decent woman to bear her +company? Yet there was something to be said for him, too. He was very +lonely. Now that Purdy had gone he was reduced, for society, to the +Long Jims and Ococks of the place. What would he not give, once more to +have a refined companion at his side? Certainly marriage might postpone +the day on which he hoped to shake the dust of Australia off his feet. +Life A DEUX would mean a larger outlay; saving not prove so easy. Still +it could be done; and he would gladly submit to the delay if, by doing +so, he could get Polly. Besides, if this new happiness came to him, it +would help him to see the years he had spent in the colony in a truer +and juster light. And then, when the hour of departure did strike, what +a joy to have a wife to carry with one--a Polly to rescue, to restore +to civilisation! + +He had to remind himself more than once, during this fortnight, that +she would be able to devote only a fraction of her day to flagmaking. +But he was at the end of his tether by the time a parcel and a letter +were left for him at the store--again by hand: little Polly had plainly +no sixpences to spare. The needlework as perfect, of course; he hardly +glanced at it, even when he had opened and read the letter. This was of +the same decorous nature as the first. Polly returned a piece of stuff +that had remained over. He had really sent material enough for two +flags, she wrote; but she had not wished to keep him waiting so long. +And then, in a postscript: + + +MR. SMITH WAS HERE LAST SUNDAY. I AM TO SAY MRS. BEAMISH WOULD BE VERY +PLEASED IF YOU ALSO WOULD CALL AGAIN TO SEE US. + + +He ran the flag up to the top of his forty-foot staff and wrote:-- + + +WHAT I WANT TO KNOW, MISS POLLY, IS, WOULD YOU BE GLAD TO SEE ME? + + +But Polly was not to be drawn. + + +WE SHOULD ALL BE VERY PLEASED. + + +Some days previously Mahony had addressed a question to, Henry Ocock. +With this third letter from Polly, he held the lawyer's answer in his +hand. It was unsatisfactory. + + +YOURSELF ATS. BOLLIVER. WE THINK THAT ACTION WILL BE SET DOWN FOR TRIAL +IN ABOUT SIX WEEKS' TIME. IN THESE CIRCUMSTANCES WE DO NOT THINK ANY +USEFUL PURPOSE WILL BE SERVED BY YOU CALLING TO SEE US UNTIL THIS IS +DONE. WE SHOULD BE GLAD IF YOU WOULD CALL AFTER THE ACTION IS ENTERED. + + +Six weeks' time? The man might as well have said a year. And meanwhile +Purdy was stealing a march on him, was paying clandestine visits to +Geelong. Was it conceivable that anyone in his five senses could prefer +Tilly to Polly? It was not. In the clutch of a sudden fear Mahony went +to Bath's and ordered a horse for the following morning. + +This time he left his store in charge of a young consumptive, whose +plight had touched his heart: the poor fellow was stranded on Ballarat +without a farthing, having proved, like many another of his physique, +quite unfit for work on the diggings. A strict Baptist this Hempel, and +one who believed hell-fire would be his portion if he so much as +guessed at the "plant" of his employer's cash-box. He also pledged his +word to bear and forbear with Long Jim. The latter saw himself +superseded with an extreme bad grace, and was in no hurry to find a new +job. + +Mahony's nag was in good condition, and he covered the distance in a +trifle over six hours. + +He had evidently hit on the family washing-day. The big boiler in the +yard belched clouds of steam; the female inmates of the Hotel were +gathered in the out-house: he saw them through the door as he rode in +at the gate. All three girls stood before tubs, their sleeves rolled +up, their arms in the lather. At his apparition there was a +characteristic chorus of cheeps and shrills and the door was banged to. +Mrs. Beamish alone came out to greet him. She was moist and blown, and +smelt of soap. + +Not in a mood to mince matters, he announced straightway the object of +his visit. He was prepared for some expression of surprise on the part +of the good woman; but the blend of sheep-faced amazement and uncivil +incredulity to which she subjected him made him hot and angry; and he +vouchsafed no further word of explanation. + +Mrs. Beamish presently so far recovered as to be able to finish wiping +the suds from her fat red arms. + +Thereafter, she gave way to a very feminine weakness. + +"Well, and now I come to think of it, I'm blessed if I didn't suspeck +somethin' of it, right from the first! Why, didn't I say to Beamish, +with me own lips, 'ow you couldn't 'ardly take your eyes off 'er? Well, +well, I'm sure I wish you every 'appiness--though 'ow we're h'ever +goin' to get on without Polly, I reelly don't know. Don't I wish it 'ad +bin one o' my two as 'ad tuck your fancy--that's all! Between you an' +me, I don't believe a blessed thing's goin' to come of all young +Smith's danglin' round. An' Polly's still a bit young--only just turned +sixteen. Not as she's any the worse o' that though; you'll get 'er +h'all the easier into your ways. An' now I mus' look smart, an' get you +a bite o' somethin' after your ride." + +In vain did Mahony assure her that he had lunched on the road. He did +not know Mrs. Beamish. He was forced not only to sit down to the meal +she spread, but also, under her argus eye, to eat of it. + +When after a considerable delay Polly at length appeared, she had +removed all traces of the tub. The hand was cold that he took in his, +as he asked her if she would walk with him to the cave. + +This time, she trembled openly. Like a lamb led to the slaughter, he +thought, looking down at her with tender eyes. Small doubt that vulgar +creature within-doors had betrayed him to Polly, and exaggerated the +ordeal that lay before her. When once she was his wife he would not +consent to her remaining intimate with people of the Beamishes' kidney: +what a joy to get her out of their clutches! Nor should she spoil her +pretty shape by stooping over a wash-tub. + +In his annoyance he forgot to moderate his pace. Polly had to trip many +small steps to keep up with him. When they reached the entrance to the +cave, she was flushed and out of breath. + +Mahony stood and looked down at her. How young she was ... how young +and innocent! Every feature of her dear little face still waited, as it +were, for the strokes of time's chisel. It should be the care of his +life that none but the happiest lines were graved upon its precious +surface. + +"Polly," he said, fresh from his scrutiny. "Polly, I'm not going to +beat about the bush with you. I think you know I came here to-day only +to see you." + +Polly's head drooped further forward; now, the rim of her bonnet hid +her face. + +"You aren't afraid of me, are you, Polly?" + +Oh, no, she was not afraid. + +"Nor have you forgotten me?" + +Polly choked a little, in her attempt to answer. She could not tell him +that she had carried his letters about with her by day, and slept with +them under her pillow; that she knew every word in them by heart, and +had copied and practised the bold flourish of the Dickens-like +signature; that she had never let his name cross her lips; that she +thought him the kindest, handsomest, cleverest man in the world, and +would willingly have humbled herself to the dust before him: all this +boiled and bubbled in her, as she brought forth her poor little "no." + +"Indeed, I hope not," went on Mahony. "Because, Polly, I've come to ask +you if you will be my wife." + +Rocks, trees, hills, suddenly grown tipsy, went see-sawing round Polly, +when she heard these words said. She shut her eyes, and hid her face in +her hands. Such happiness seemed improbable--was not to be grasped. +"Me? ... your wife?" she stammered through her fingers. + +"Yes, Polly. Do you think you could learn to care for me a little, my +dear? No, don't be in a hurry to answer. Take your own time." + +But she needed none. With what she felt to be a most unmaidenly +eagerness, yet could not subdue, she blurted out: "I know I could. I +... I do." + +"Thank God!" said Mahony. "Thank God for that!" + +He let his arms fall to his sides; he found he had been holding them +stiffly out from him. He sat down. "And now take away your hands, +Polly, and let me see your face. Don't be ashamed of showing me what +you feel. This is a sacred moment for us. We are promising to take each +other, you know, for richer for poorer, for better for worse--as the +good old words have it. And I must warn you, my dear, you are not +marrying a rich man. I live in a poor, rough place, and have only a +poor home to offer you. Oh, I have had many scruples about asking you +to leave your friends to come and share it with me, Polly my love!" + +"I'm not afraid. I am strong. I can work." + +"And I shall take every care of you. Please God, you will never regret +your choice." + +They were within sight of the house where they sat; and Mahony imagined +rude, curious eyes. So he did not kiss her. Instead, he drew her arm +though his, and together they paced up and down the path they had come +by, while he laid his plans before her, and confessed to the dreams he +had dreamt of their wedded life. It was a radiant afternoon in the +distance the sea lay deep blue, with turquoise shallows; a great white +bird of a ship, her canvas spread to the breeze, was making for ... +why, to-day he did not care whether for port or for "home"; the sun +went down in a blaze behind a bank of emerald green. And little Polly +agreed with everything he said--was all one lovely glow of +acquiescence. He thought no happier mortal than himself trod the earth. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +Mahony remained at the Hotel till the following afternoon, then walked +to Geelong and took the steam-packet to Melbourne. The object of his +journey was to ask Mr. John Turnham's formal sanction to his marriage. +Polly accompanied him a little way on his walk. And whenever he looked +back he saw her standing fluttering her handkerchief--a small, solitary +figure on the bare, red road. + +He parted from her with a sense of leaving his most precious possession +behind, so close had words made the tie. On the other hand, he was not +sorry to be out of range for a while of the Beamish family's banter. +This had set in, the evening before, as soon as he and Polly returned +to the house--pacing the deck of the little steamer, he writhed anew at +the remembrance. Jokes at their expense had been cracked all through +supper: his want of appetite, for instance, was the subject of a dozen +crude insinuations; and this, though everyone present knew that he had +eaten a hearty meal not two hours previously; had been kept up till he +grew stony and savage, and Polly, trying hard not to mind but red to +the rims of her ears, slipped out of the room. Supper over, Mrs. +Bearnish announced in a loud voice that the verandah was at the +disposal of the "turtle-doves." She no doubt expected them to bill and +coo in public, as Purdy and Matilda had done. On edge at the thought, +he drew Polly into the comparative seclusion of the garden. Here they +strolled up and down, their promenade bounded at the lower end by the +dense-leaved arbour under which they had first met. In its screening +shadow he took the kiss he had then been generous enough to forgo. + +"I think I loved you, Polly, directly I saw you." + +In the distance a clump of hills rose steep and bare from the waste +land by the sea's edge--he could see them at this moment as he leant +over the taffrail: with the sun going down behind them they were the +colour of smoked glass. Last night they had been white with moonlight, +which lay spilled out upon them like milk. Strange old hills! Standing +there unchanged, unshaken, from time immemorial, they made the troth +that had been plighted under their shield seem pitifully frail. And +yet.... The vows which Polly and he had found so new, so wonderful; +were not these, in truth, as ancient as the hills themselves, and as +undying? Countless generations of human lovers had uttered them. The +lovers passed, but the pledges remained: had put on immortality. + +In the course of their talk it leaked out that Polly would not feel +comfortable till her choice was ratified by brother John. + +"I'm sure you will like John; he is so clever." + +"I shall like everyone belonging to you, my Polly!" + +As she lost her shyness Mahony made the discovery that she laughed +easily, and was fond of a jest. Thus, when he admitted to her that he +found it difficult to distinguish one fair, plump, sister Beamish from +the other; that they seemed to him as much alike as two firm, +pink-ribbed mushrooms, the little woman was hugely tickled by his his +masculine want of perception. "Why, Jinny has brown eyes and Tilly +blue!" + +What he did not know, and what Polly did not confess to him, was that +much of her merriment arose from sheer lightness of heart.--She, silly +goose that she was! who had once believed Jinny to be the picked object +of his attentions. + +But she grew serious again: could he tell her, please, why Mr. Smith +wrote so seldom to Tilly? Poor Tilly was unhappy at his long +silences--fretted over them in bed at night. + +Mahony made excuses for Purdy, urging his unsettled mode of life. But +it pleased him to see that Polly took sides with her friend, and +loyally espoused her cause. + +No, there had not been a single jarring note in all their intercourse; +each moment had made the dear girl dearer to him. Now, worse luck, +forty odd miles were between them again. + +It had been agreed that he should call at her brother's private house, +towards five o'clock in the afternoon. He had thus to kill time for the +better part of the next day. His first visit was to a jeweller's in +Great Collins Street. Here, he pushed aside a tray of showy diamonds--a +successful digger was covering the fat, red hands of his bride with +them--and chose a slender, discreetly chased setting, containing three +small stones. No matter what household duties fell to Polly's share, +this little ring would not be out of place on her finger. + +From there he went to the last address Purdy had given him; only to +find that the boy had again disappeared. Before parting from Purdy, the +time before, he had lent him half the purchase-money for a horse and +dray, thus enabling him to carry out an old scheme of plying for hire +at the city wharf. According to the landlord of the "Hotel Vendome," to +whom Mahony was referred for fuller information, Purdy had soon tired +of this job, and selling dray and beast for what he could get had gone +off on a new rush to "Simson's Diggings" or the "White Hills." Small +wonder Miss Tilly was left languishing for news of him. + +Pricked by the nervous disquietude of those who have to do with the +law, Mahony next repaired to his solicitor's office. But Henry Ocock +was closeted with a more important client. This, Grindle the clerk, +whom he met on the stairs, informed him, with an evident relish, and +with some hidden, hinted meaning in the corners of his shifty little +eyes. It was lost on Mahony, who was not the man to accept hints from a +stranger. + +The hour was on lunch-time; Grindle proposed that they should go +together to a legal chop-house, which offered prime value for your +money, and where, over the meal, he would give Mahony the latest news +of his suit. At a loss how to get through the day, the latter followed +him--he was resolved, too, to practise economy from now on. But when he +sat down to a dirty cloth and fly-spotted cruet he regretted his +compliance. Besides, the news Grindle was able to give him amounted to +nothing; the case had not budged since last he heard of it. Worse still +was the clerk's behaviour. For after lauding the cheapness of the +establishment, Grindle disputed the price of each item on the "meenew," +and, when he came to pay his bill, chuckled over having been able to +diddle the waiter of a penny. + +He was plainly one of those who feel the constant need of an audience. +And since there was no office-boy present, for him to dazzle with his +wit, he applied himself to demonstrating to his table-companion what a +sad, sad dog he was. + +"Women are the deuce, sir," he asserted, lying back in his chair and +sending two trails of smoke from his nostrils. "The very deuce! You +should hear my governor on the subject! He'd tickle your ears for you. +Look here, I'll give you the tip: this move, you know, to Ballarat, +that he's drivin' at: what'ull you bet me there isn't a woman in the +case? Fact! 'Pon my word there is. And a devilish fine woman, too!" He +shut one eye and laid a finger along his nose. "You won't blow the +gab?--that's why you couldn't have your parleyvoo this morning. When +milady comes to town H. O.'s NON EST as long as she's here. And she +with a hubby of her own, too! What 'ud our old pa say to that, eh?" + +Mahony, who could draw in his feelers no further than he had done, +touched the limit of his patience. "My connexion with Mr. Ocock is a +purely business one. I have no intention of trespassing on his private +affairs, or of having them thrust upon me. Carver, my bill!" + +Bowing distantly he stalked out of the eating-house and back to the +"Criterion," where he dined. "So much for a maiden attempt at economy!" + +Towards five o'clock he took his seat in an omnibus that plied between +the city and the seaside suburb of St. Kilda, three miles off. A cool +breeze went; the hoofs of the horses beat a rataplan on the hard +surface; the great road, broad enough to make three of, was alive with +smart gigs and trotters. + +St. Kilda was a group of white houses facing the Bay. Most were o' +weatherboard with brick chimneys; but there were also a few of a more +solid construction. Mahony's goal was one of these: a low, stone villa +surrounded by verandahs, in the midst of tasteful grounds. The drive up +to the door led through a shrubbery, artfully contrived of the native +ti-tree; behind the house stretched kitchen and fruit-gardens. Many +rare plants grew in the beds. There was a hedge of geraniums close on +fifteen feet high. + +His knock was answered by a groom, who made a saucy face: Mr. Turnham +and his lady were attending the Governor's ball this evening and did +not receive. Mahony insisted on the delivery of his visiting-card. And +since the servant still blocked the entrance he added: "Inform your +master, my man, that I am the bearer of a message from his sister, Miss +Mary Turnham." + +The man shut him out, left him standing on the verandah. After a +lengthy absence, he returned, and with a "Well, come along in then!" +opened the door of a parlour. This was a large room, well furnished in +horsehair and rep. Wax-lights stood on the mantelpiece before a +gilt-framed pierglass; coloured prints hung on the walls. + +While Mahony was admiring the genteel comfort to which he had long been +a stranger, John Turnham entered the room. He had a quiet tread, but +took determined strides at the floor. In his hand he held Mahony's +card, and he looked from Mahony to it and back again. + +"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr.... er ... Mahony?" he asked, +refreshing his memory with a glance at the pasteboard. He spoke in the +brusque tone of one accustomed to run through many applicants in the +course of an hour. "I understand that you make use of my sister Mary's +name." And, as Mahony did not instantly respond, he snapped out: "My +time is short, sir!" + +A tinge of colour mounted to Mahony's cheeks. He answered with equal +stiffness: "That is so. I come from Mr. William Beamish's 'Family +Hotel,' and am commissioned to bring you your sister's warm love and +regards." + +John Turnham bowed; and waited. + +"I have also to acquaint you with the fact," continued Mahony, +gathering hauteur as he went, "that the day before yesterday I proposed +marriage to your sister, and that she did me the honour of accepting +me." + +"Ah, indeed!" said John Turnham, with a kind of ironic snort. "And may +I ask on what ground you--" + +"On the ground, sir, that I have a sincere affection for Miss Turnham, +and believe it lies in my power to make her happy." + +"Of that, kindly allow me to judge. My sister is a mere child--too +young to know her own mind. Be seated." + +To a constraining, restraining vision of little Polly, Mahony obeyed, +stifling the near retort that she was not too young to earn her living +among strangers. The two men faced each other on opposite sides of the +table. John Turnham had the same dark eyes and hair, the same short, +straight nose as his brother and sister, but not their exotic pallor. +His skin was bronzed; and his large, scarlet mouth supplied a vivid +dash of colour. He wore bushy side-whiskers. + +"And now, Mr. Mahony, I will ask you a blunt question. I receive +letters regularly from my sister, but I cannot recall her ever having +mentioned your name. Who and what are you?" + +"Who am I?" flared up Mahony. "A gentleman like yourself, sir!--though +a poor one. As for Miss Turnham not mentioning me in her letters, that +is easily explained. I only had the pleasure of making her acquaintance +five or six weeks ago." + +"You are candid," said Polly's brother, and smiled without unclosing +his lips. "But your reply to my question tells me nothing. May I ask +what ... er ... under what ... er ... circumstances you came out to the +colony, in the first instance?" + +"No, sir, you may not!" cried Mahony, and flung up from his seat; he +scented a deadly insult in the question. + +"Come, come, Mr. Mahony," said Turnham in a more conciliatory tone. +"Nothing is gained by being techy. And my inquiry is not unreasonable. +You are an entire stranger to me; my sister has known you but for a few +weeks, and is a young and inexperienced girl into the bargain. You tell +me you are a gentleman. Sir! I had as lief you said you were a +blacksmith. In this grand country of ours, where progress is the +watchword, effete standards and dogging traditions must go by the +board. Grit is of more use to us than gentility. Each single bricklayer +who unships serves the colony better than a score of gentlemen." + +"In that I am absolutely not at one with you, Mr. Turnham," said Mahony +coldly. He had sat down again, feeling rather ashamed of his violence. +"Without a leaven of refinement, the very raw material of which the +existing population is composed--" + +But Turnham interrupted him. "Give 'em time, sir, give 'em time. God +bless my soul! Rome wasn't built in a day. But to resume. I have +repeatedly had occasion to remark in what small stead the training that +fits a man for a career in the old country stands him here. And that is +why I am dissatisfied with your reply. Show me your muscles, sir, give +me a clean bill of health, tell me if you have learnt a trade and can +pay your way. See, I will be frank with you. The position I occupy +to-day I owe entirely to my own efforts. I landed in the colony ten +years ago, when this marvellous city of ours was little more than a +village settlement. I had but five pounds in my pocket. To-day I am a +partner in my firm, and intend, if all goes well, to enter parliament. +Hence I think I may, without presumption, judge what makes for success +here, and of the type of man to attain it. Work, hard work, is the key +to all doors. So convinced am I of this, that I have insisted on the +younger members of my family learning betimes to put their shoulders to +the wheel. Now, Mr. Mahony, I have been open with you. Be equally frank +with me. You are an Irishman?" + +Candour invariably disarmed Mahony--even lay a little heavy on him, +with the weight of an obligation. He retaliated with a light touch of +self-depreciation. "An Irishman, sir, in a country where the Irish have +fallen, and not without reason, into general disrepute." + +Over a biscuit and a glass of sherry he gave a rough outline of the +circumstances that had led to his leaving England, two years +previously, and of his dismayed arrival in what he called "the cesspool +of 1852". + +"Thanks to the rose-water romance of the English press, many a young +man of my day was enticed away from a modest competency, to seek his +fortune here, where it was pretended that nuggets could be gathered +like cabbages--I myself threw up a tidy little country practice.... I +might mention that medicine was my profession. It would have given me +intense satisfaction, Mr. Turnham, to see one of those glib journalists +in my shoes, or the shoes of some of my messmates on the OCEAN QUEEN. +There were men aboard that ship, sir, who were reduced to beggary +before they could even set foot on the road to the north. Granted it is +the duty of the press to encourage emigration--" + +"Let the press be, Mahony," said Turnham: he had sat back, crossed his +legs, and put his thumbs in his armholes. "Let it be. What we need here +is colonists--small matter how we get 'em." + +Having had his say, Mahony scamped the recital of his own sufferings: +the discomforts of the month he had been forced to spend in Melbourne +getting his slender outfit together; the miseries of the tramp to +Ballarat on delicate unused feet, among the riff-raff of nations, under +a wan December sky, against which the trunks of the gum-trees rose +whiter still, and out of which blazed a copper sun with a misty rim. He +scamped, too, his six-months' attempt at digging--he had been no more +fit for the work than a child. Worn to skin and bone, his small +remaining strength sucked out by dysentery, he had in the end bartered +his last pinch of gold-dust for a barrow-load of useful odds and ends; +and this had formed the nucleus of his store. Here, fortune had smiled +on him; his flag hardly set a-flying custom had poured in, business +gone up by leaps and bounds--"Although I have never sold so much as a +pint of spirits, sir!" His profits for the past six months equalled a +clear three hundred, and he had most of this to the good. With a wife +to keep, expenses would naturally be heavier; but he should continue to +lay by every spare penny, with a view to getting back to England. + +"You have not the intention, then, of remaining permanently in the +colony?" + +"Not the least in the world." + +"H'm," said John: he was standing on the hearthrug now, his legs apart. +"That, of course, puts a different complexion on the matter. Still, I +may say I am entirely reassured by what you have told me--entirely so. +Indeed, you must allow me to congratulate you on the good sense you +displayed in striking while the iron was hot. Many a one of your +medical brethren, sir, would have thought it beneath his dignity to +turn shopkeeper. And now, Mr. Mahony, I will wish you good day; we +shall doubtless meet again before very long. Nay, one moment! There are +cases, you will admit, in which a female opinion is not without value. +Besides, I should be pleased for you to see my wife." + +He crossed the hall, tapped at a door and cried: "Emma, my love, will +you give us the pleasure of your company?" + +In response to this a lady entered, whom Mahony thought one of the most +beautiful women he had ever seen. She carried a yearling infant in her +arms, and with one hand pressed its pale flaxen poll against the rich, +ripe corn of her own hair, as if to dare comparison. Her cheeks were of +a delicate rose pink. + +"My love," said Turnham--and one felt that the word was no mere flower +of speech. "My love, here is someone who wishes to marry our Polly." + +"To marry our Polly?" echoed the lady, and smiled a faint, amused +smile--it was as though she said: to marry this infant that I bear on +my arm. "But Polly is only a little girl!" + +"My very words, dearest. And too young to know her own mind." + +"But you will decide for her, John." + +John hung over his beautiful wife, wheeled up an easy chair, arranged +her in it, placed a footstool. "Pray, pray, do not overfatigue +yourself, Emma! That child is too heavy for you," he objected, as the +babe made strenuous efforts to kick itself to its feet. "You know I do +not approve of you carrying it yourself." + +"Nurse is drinking tea." + +"But why do I keep a houseful of domestics if one of the others cannot +occasionally take her place?" + +He made an impetuous step towards the bell. Before he could reach it +there came a thumping at the door, and a fluty voice cried: "Lemme in, +puppa, lemme in!" + +Turnham threw the door open, and admitted a sturdy two-year-old, whom +he led forward by the hand. "My son," he said, not without pride. +Mahony would have coaxed the child to him; but it ran to its mother, +hid its face in her lap. + +Forgetting the bell John struck an attitude. "What a picture!" he +exclaimed. "What a picture! My love, I positively must carry out my +intention of having you painted in oils, with the children round you.-- +Mr. Mahony, sir, have you ever seen anything to equal it?" + +Though his mental attitude might have been expressed by a note of +exclamation, set ironically, Mahony felt constrained to second +Turnham's enthusiasm. And it was indeed a lovely picture: the gracious, +golden-haired woman, whose figure had the amplitude, her gestures the +almost sensual languor of the young nursing mother; the two children +fawning at her knee, both ash-blond, with vivid scarlet lips.--"It +helps one," thought Mahony, "to understand the mother-worship of +primitive peoples." + +The nursemaid summoned and the children borne off, Mrs. Emma exchanged +a few amiable words with the visitor, then obeyed with an equally good +grace her husband's command to rest for an hour, before dressing for +the ball. + +Having escorted her to another room, Turnham came back rubbing his +hands. "I am pleased to be able to tell you, Mr. Mahony, that your suit +has my wife's approval. You are highly favoured! Emma is not free with +her liking." Then, in a sudden burst of effusion: "I could have wished +you the pleasure, sir, of seeing my wife in evening attire. She will +make a furore again; no other woman can hold a candle to her in a +ballroom. To-night is the first time since the birth of our second +child that she will grace a public entertainment with her presence; and +unfortunately her appearance will be a brief one, for the infant is not +yet wholly weaned." He shut the door and lowered his voice. "You have +had some experience of doctoring, you say; I should like a word with +you in your medical capacity. The thing is this. My wife has persisted, +contrary to my wishes, in suckling both children herself." + +"Quite right, too," said Mahony. "In a climate like this their natural +food is invaluable to babes." + +"Exactly, quite so," said Turnham, with a hint of impatience. "And in +the case of the first child, I made due allowance: a young mother... +the novelty of the thing... you understand. But with regard to the +second, I must confess I--How long, sir, in your opinion, can a mother +continue to nurse her babe without injury to herself? It is surely +harmful if unduly protracted? I have observed dark lines about my +wife's eyes, and she is losing her fine complexion.--Then you confirm +my fears. I shall assert my authority without delay, and insist on +separation from the child.--Ah! women are strange beings, Mr. Mahony, +strange beings, as you are on the high road to discovering for +yourself." + +Mahony returned to town on foot, the omnibus having ceased to run. As +he walked--at a quick pace, and keeping a sharp look-out; for the road +was notoriously unsafe after dark--he revolved his impressions of the +interview. He was glad it was over, and, for Polly's sake, that it had +passed off satisfactorily. It had made a poor enough start: at one +moment he had been within an ace of picking up his hat and stalking +out. But he found it difficult at the present happy crisis to bear a +grudge--even if it had not been a proved idiosyncrasy of his, always to +let a successful finish erase a bad beginning. None the less, he would +not have belonged to the nation he did, had he not indulged in a +caustic chuckle and a pair of good-humoured pishes and pshaws, at +Turnham's expense. "Like a showman in front of his booth!" + +Then he thought again of the domestic scene he had been privileged to +witness, and grew grave. The beautiful young woman and her children +might have served as model for a Holy Family--some old painter's dream +of a sweet benign Madonna; the trampling babe as the infant Christ; the +upturned face of the little John adoring. No place this for the +scoffer. Apart from the mere pleasure of the eye, there was ample +justification for Turnham's transports. Were they not in the presence +of one of life's sublimest mysteries--that of motherhood? Not alone the +lovely Emma: no; every woman who endured the rigours of childbirth, to +bring forth an immortal soul, was a holy figure. + +And now for him, too, as he had been reminded, this wonder was to be +worked. Little Polly as the mother of his children--what visions the +words conjured up! But he was glad Polly was just Polly, and not the +peerless creature he had seen. John Turnham's fears would never be +his--this jealous care of a transient bodily beauty. Polly was neither +too rare nor too fair for her woman's lot; and, please God, the day +would come when he would see her with a whole cluster of little ones +round her--little dark-eyed replicas of herself. She, bless her, should +dandle and cosset them to her heart's content. Her joy in them would +also be his. + + + + +Chapter IX + +He sawed, planed, hammered; curly shavings dropped and there was a +pleasant smell of sawdust. Much had to be done to make the place fit to +receive Polly. A second outhouse was necessary, to hold the surplus +goods and do duty as a sleeping-room for Long Jim and Hempel: the +lean-to the pair had occupied till now was being converted into a +kitchen. At great cost and trouble, Mahony had some trees felled and +brought in from Warrenheip. With them he put up a rude fence round his +backyard, interlacing the lopped boughs from post to post, so that they +formed a thick and leafy screen. He also filled in the disused shaft +that had served as a rubbish-hole, and chose another, farther off, +which would be less malodorous in the summer heat. Finally, a +substantial load of firewood carted in, and two snakes that had made +the journey in hollow logs dispatched, Long Jim was set down to chop +and split the wood into a neat pile. Polly would need but to walk to +and from the woodstack for her firing. + +Indoors he made equal revolution. That her ears should not be polluted +by the language of the customers, he ran up a partition between +living-room and store, thus cutting off the slab-walled portion of the +house, with its roof of stringy-bark, from the log-and-canvas front. He +also stopped with putty the worst gaps between the slabs. At Ocock's +Auction Rooms he bought a horsehair sofa to match his armchair, a strip +of carpet, a bed, a washhand-stand and a looking-glass, and tacked up a +calico curtain before the window. His books, fetched out of the wooden +case, were arranged on a brand-new set of shelves; and, when all was +done and he stood back to admire his work, it was borne in on him +afresh with how few creature-comforts he had hitherto existed. Plain to +see now, why he had preferred to sit out-of-doors rather than within! +Now, no one on the Flat had a trimmer little place than he. + +In his labours he had the help of a friendly digger--a carpenter by +trade--who one evening, pipe in mouth, had stood to watch his +amateurish efforts with the jack-plane. Otherwise, the Lord alone knew +how the house would ever have been made shipshape. Long Jim was equal +to none but the simplest jobs; and Hempel, the assistant, had his hands +full with the store. Well, it was a blessing at this juncture that +business could be left to him. Hempel was as straight as a die; was a +real treasure--or would have been, were it not for his eternal little +bark of a cough. This was proof against all remedies, and the heck-heck +of it at night was quite enough to spoil a light sleeper's rest. In +building the new shed, Mahony had been careful to choose a corner far +from the house. + +Marriages were still uncommon enough on Ballarat to make him an object +of considerable curiosity. People took to dropping in of an +evening--old Ocock; the postmaster; a fellow storekeeper, ex-steward to +the Duke of Newcastle--to comment on his alterations and improvements. +And over a pipe and a glass of sherry, he had to put up with a good +deal of banter about his approaching "change of state." + +Still, it was kindly meant. "We'll 'ave to git up a bit o' company o' +nights for yer lady when she comes," said old Ocock, and spat under the +table. + +Purdy wrote from Tarrangower, where he had drifted: + + +HOORAY, OLD DICK, GOLLY FOR YOU! OLD MAN DIDN'T I KICK UP A BOBBERY +WHEN I HEARD THE NEWS. NEVER WAS SO WELL PLEASED IN MY LIFE. THAT'S ALL +YOU NEEDED, DICK--NOW YOU'LL TURN INTO A FIRST-RATE COLONIAL. HOW ABOUT +THAT FIVER NOW I'D LIKE TO KNOW. YOU CAN TELL POLLY FROM ME I SHALL PAY +IT BACK WITH INTEREST ON THE FATAL DAY. OF COURSE I'LL COME AND SEE YOU +SPLICED, TOGS OR NO TOGS--TO TELL THE TRUTH MY KICKSIES ARE ON THEIR +VERY LAST LEGS--AND THERE'S NOTHING DOING HERE--ALL THE LOOSE STUFF'S +BEEN TURNED OVER. THERE'S OCEANS OF QUARTZ, OF COURSE, AND THEY'RE +TRYING TO POUND IT UP IN DOLLIES, BUT YOU COULD PUT ME TO BED WITH A +PICK-AXE AND A SHOVEL BEFORE I'D GO IN FOR SUCH TOMFOOLERY AS THAT.-- +DAMN IT ALL, DICK, TO THINK OF YOU BEING COTCHED AT LAST. I CAN'T GET +OVER IT, AND IT'S A BIT OF A RISK, TOO, BY DAD IT IS, FOR A GIRL OF +THAT AGE IS A DARK HORSE IF EVER THERE WAS ONE. + + +Mahony's answer to this was a couple of pound-notes: SO THAT MY BEST +MAN SHALL NOT DISGRACE ME! His heart went out to the writer. Dear old +Dickybird! pleased as Punch at the turn of events, yet quaking for fear +of imaginary risks. With all Purdy's respect for his friend's opinions, +he had yet an odd distrust of that friend's ability to look after +himself. And now he was presuming to doubt Polly, too. Like his +imperence! What the dickens did HE know of Polly? Keenly relishing the +sense of his own intimate knowledge, Mahony touched the breast-pocket +in which Polly's letters lay--he often carried them out with him to a +little hill, on which a single old blue-gum had been left standing; its +scraggy top-knot of leaves drooped and swayed in the wind, like the few +long straggling hairs on an old man's head. + +The letters formed a goodly bundle; for Polly and he wrote regularly to +each other, she once a week, he twice. His bore the Queen's head; hers, +as befitted a needy little governess, were oftenest delivered by hand. +Mahony untied the packet, drew a chance letter from it and mused as he +read. Polly had still not ceded much of her early reserve--and it had +taken him weeks to persuade her even to call him by his first name. She +was, he thanked goodness, not of the kind who throw maidenly modesty to +the winds, directly the binding word is spoken. He loved her all the +better for her wariness of emotion; it tallied with a like streak in +his own nature. And this, though at the moment he was going through a +very debauch of frankness. To the little black-eyed girl who pored over +his letters at "Beamish's Family Hotel," he unbosomed himself as never +in his life before. He enlarged on his tastes and preferences, his +likes and dislikes; he gave vent to his real feelings for the country +of his exile, and his longings for "home"; told how he had come to the +colony, in the first instance, with the fantastic notion of redeeming +the fortunes of his family; described his collections of butterflies +and plants to her, using their Latin names. And Polly drank in his +words, and humbly agreed with all he wrote, or at least did not +disagree; and, from this, as have done lovers from the beginning of +time, he inferred a perfect harmony of mind. On one point only did he +press her for a reply. Was she fond of books? If so, what evenings they +would spend together, he reading aloud from some entertaining volume, +she at her fancy work. And poetry? For himself he could truly say he +did not care for poetry ... except on a Saturday night or a quiet +Sunday morning; and that was, because he liked it too well to approach +it with any but a tranquil mind. + + +I THINK IF I KNOW YOU ARIGHT, AS I BELIEVE I DO, MY POLLY, YOU TOO HAVE +POETRY IN YOUR SOUL. + + +He smiled at her reply; then kissed it. + + +I CANNOT WRITE POETRY MYSELF, said Polly, BUT I AM VERY FOND OF IT AND +SHALL INDEED LIKE VERY MUCH DEAR RICHARD TO LISTEN WHEN YOU READ. + + +But the winter ran away, one cold, wet week succeeding another, and +still they were apart. Mahony urged and pleaded, but could not get +Polly to name the wedding-day. He began to think pressure was being +brought to bear on the girl from another side. Naturally the Beamishes +were reluctant to let her go: who would be so useful to them as +Polly?--who undertake, without scorn, the education of the whilom +shepherd's daughters? Still, they knew they had to lose her, and he +could not see that it made things any easier for them to put off the +evil day. No, there was something else at the bottom of it; though he +did not know what. Then one evening, pondering a letter of Polly's, he +slapped his forehead and exclaimed aloud at his own stupidity. That +night, into his reply he slipped four five-pound notes. JUST TO BUY +YOURSELF ANY LITTLE THING YOU FANCY, DEAREST. IF I CHOSE A GIFT, I +MIGHT SEND WHAT WOULD NOT BE ACCEPTABLE TO YOU. Yes, sure enough, that +was it--little Polly had been in straits for money: the next news he +heard was that she had bought and was stitching her wedding-gown. Taxed +with her need, Polly guiltily admitted that her salary for the past +three months was owing to her. But there had been great expenses in +connection with the hotel; and Mr. B. had had an accident to his leg. +From what she wrote, though, Mahony saw that it was not the first time +such remissness had occurred; and he felt grimly indignant with her +employers. Keeping open house, and hospitable to the point of +vulgarity, they were, it was evident, pinchfists when it came to +parting with their money. Still, in the case of a little woman who had +served them so faithfully! In thought he set a thick black mark against +their name, for their cavalier treatment of his Polly. And extended it +to John Turnham as well. John had made no move to put hand to pocket; +and Polly's niceness of feeling had stood in the way of her applying to +him for aid. It made Mahony yearn to snatch the girl to him, then and +there; to set her free of all contact with such coarse-grained, miserly +brutes. + +Old Ocock negotiated the hire of a neat spring cart for him, and a +stout little cob; and at last the day had actually come, when he could +set out to bring Polly home. By his side was Ned Turnham. Ned, still a +lean-jowled wages-man at Rotten Gully, made no secret of his glee at +getting carried down thus comfortably to Polly's nuptials. They drove +the eternal forty odd miles to Geelong, each stick and stone of which +was fast becoming known to Mahony; a journey that remained equally +tiresome whether the red earth rose as a thick red dust, or whether as +now it had turned to a mud like birdlime in which the wheels sank +almost to the axles. Arrived at Geelong they put up at an hotel, where +Purdy awaited them. Purdy had tramped down from Tarrangower, blanket on +back, and stood in need of a new rig-out from head to foot. Otherwise +his persistent ill-luck had left no mark on him. + +The ceremony took place early the following morning, at the house of +the Wesleyan minister, the Anglican parson having been called away. The +Beamishes and Polly drove to town, a tight fit in a double buggy. On +the back seat, Jinny clung to and half supported a huge clothes-basket, +which contained the wedding-breakfast. Polly sat on her trunk by the +splashboard; and Tilly, crowded out, rode in on one of the cart-horses, +a coloured bed-quilt pinned round her waist to protect her skirts. + +To Polly's disappointment neither her brother John nor his wife was +present; a letter came at the eleventh hour to say that Mrs. Emma was +unwell, and her husband did not care to leave her. Enclosed, however, +were ten pounds for the purchase of a wedding-gift; and the pleasure +Polly felt at being able to announce John's generosity helped to make +up to her for his absence. The only other guest present was an elder +sister, Miss Sarah Turnham, who, being out of a situation at the +moment, had sailed down from Melbourne. This young lady, a sprightly +brunette of some three or four and twenty, without the fine, regular +features of Ned and Polly, but with tenfold their vivacity and +experience, caused quite a sensation; and Tilly's audible raptures at +beholding her Purdy again were of short duration; for Purdy had never +met the equal of Miss Sarah, and could not take his eyes off her. He +and she were the life of the party. The Beamishes were overawed by the +visitor's town-bred airs and the genteel elegance of her dress; Polly +was a mere crumpled rose-leaf of pink confusion; Mahony too preoccupied +with ring and licence to take any but his formal share in the +proceedings. + +"Come and see you?" echoed Miss Sarah playfully: the knot was tied; the +company had demolished the good things laid out by Mrs. Beamish in the +private parlour of an hotel, and emptied a couple of bottles of +champagne; and Polly had changed her muslin frock for a black silk +travelling-gown. "Come and SEE you? Why, of course I will, little +silly!"--and, with her pretty white hands, she patted the already +perfect bow of Polly's bonnet-strings. Miss Sarah had no great opinion +of the match her sister was making; but she had been agreeably +surprised by Mahony's person and manners, and had said so, thus filling +Polly's soul with bliss. "Provided, of course, little goosey, you have +a SPARE ROOM to offer me.--For, I confess," she went on, turning to the +rest of the party, "I confess I feel inordinately curious to see, with +my own eyes, what these famous diggings are like. From all one hears, +they must be MARVELLOUSLY entertaining.--Now, I presume that you, Mr. +Smith, never touch at such RUDE, OUT-OF-THE-WORLD places in the course +of YOUR travels?" + +Purdy, who had discreetly concealed the fact that he was but a +poverty-stricken digger himself, quibbled a light evasion, then changed +the subject, and offered his escort to the steam-packet by which Miss +Sarah was returning to Melbourne. + +"And you, too, dear Tilly," urged little Polly, proceeding with her +farewells. "For, mind, you promised. And I won't forget to ... you know +what!" + +Tilly, sobbing noisily, wept on Polly's neck that she wished she was +dead or at the bottom of the sea; and Polly, torn between pride and +pain at Purdy's delinquency, could only kiss her several times without +speaking. + +The farewells buzzed and flew. + +"Good-bye to you, little lass ... beg pardon, Mrs. Dr. Mahony!"---- + +"Mind you write, Poll! I shall die to 'ear."---- + +"Ta-ta, little silly goosey, and AU REVOIR!"--"Mind he don't pitch you +out of the cart, Polly!"--"Good-bye, Polly, my duck, and remember I'll +come to you in a winkin', h'if and when ..." which speech on the part +of Mrs. Beamish distressed Polly to the verge of tears. + +But finally she was torn from their arms and hoisted into the cart; and +Mahony, the reins in his hand, began to unstiffen from the wooden +figure-head he had felt himself during the ceremony, and under the +whirring tongues and whispered confidences of the women. + +"And now, Polly, for home!" he said exultantly, when the largest +pocket-handkerchief had shrunk to the size of a nit, and Polly had +ceased to twist her neck for one last, last glimpse of her friends. + +And then the bush, and the loneliness of the bush, closed round them. + +It was the time of flowers--of fierce young growth after the fruitful +winter rains. The short-lived grass, green now as that of an English +meadow, was picked out into patterns by the scarlet of the Running +Postman; purple sarsaparilla festooned the stems of the scrub; there +were vast natural paddocks, here of yellow everlastings, there of +heaths in full bloom. Compared with the dark, spindly foliage of the +she-oaks, the ti-trees' waxy flowers stood out like orange-blossoms +against firs. On damp or marshy ground wattles were aflame: great +quivering masses of softest gold. Wherever these trees stood, the +fragrance of their yellow puff-ball blossoms saturated the air; one +knew, before one saw them, that they were coming, and long after they +had been left behind one carried their honeyed sweetness with one; +against them, no other scent could have made itself felt. And to Mahony +these waves of perfume, into which they were continually running, came, +in the course of the hours, to stand for a symbol of the golden future +for which he and Polly were making; and whenever in after years he met +with wattles in full bloom, he was carried back to the blue spring day +of this wedding-journey, and jogged on once more, in the light cart, +with his girl-wife at his side. + +It was necessarily a silent drive. More rain had fallen during the +night; even the best bits of the road were worked into deep, glutinous +ruts, and the low-lying parts were under water. Mahony, but a fairish +hand with the reins, was repeatedly obliged to leave the track and take +to the bush, where he steered a way as best he could through trees, +stumps, boulders and crab-holes. Sometimes he rose to his feet to +encourage the horse; or he alighted and pulled it by the bridle; or put +a shoulder to the wheel. But to-day no difficulties had power to daunt +him; and the farther he advanced the lighter-hearted he grew: he went +back to Ballarat feeling, for the first time, that he was actually +going home. + +And Polly? Sitting motionless at her husband's side, her hands folded +on her black silk lap, Polly obediently turned her head this way and +that, when Richard pointed out a landmark to her, or called her +attention to the flowers. At first, things were new and arresting, but +the novelty soon wore off; and as they went on and on, and still on, it +began to seem to Polly, who had never been farther afield than a couple +of miles north of the "Pivot City," as if they were driving away from +all the rest of mankind, right into the very heart of nowhere. The road +grew rougher, too--became scored with ridges and furrows which threw +them violently from side to side. Unused to bush driving, Polly was +sure at each fresh jolt that this time the cart MUST tip over; and yet +she preferred the track and its dangers to Richard's adventurous +attempts to carve a passage through the scrub. A little later a cold +south wind sprang up, which struck through her thin silk mantle; she +was very tired, having been on her feet since five o'clock that +morning; and all the happy fuss and excitement of the wedding was +behind her. Her heart sank. She loved Richard dearly; if he had asked +her, she would have gone to the ends of the earth with him; but at this +moment she felt both small and lonely, and she would have liked nothing +better than Mrs. Beamish's big motherly bosom, on which to lay her +head. And when, in passing a swamp, a well-known noise broke on her +ear--that of hundreds of bell-frogs, which were like hundreds of +hissing tea-kettles just about to boil--then such a rush of +homesickness took her that she would have given all she had, to know +she was going back, once more, to the familiar little whitewashed room +she had shared with Tilly and Jinny. + +The seat of the cart was slanting and slippery. Polly was continually +sliding forward, now by inches, now with a great jerk. At last Mahony +noticed it. "You are not sitting very comfortably, Polly, I fear?" he +said. + +Polly righted herself yet again, and reddened. "It's my ... my feet +aren't long enough," she replied. + +"Why, my poor little love!" cried Mahony, full of quick compunction. +"Why didn't you say so?" And drawing rein and getting down, he stuffed +some of Mrs. Beamish's bundles--fragments of the feast, which the good +woman had sent with them--under his wife's feet; stuffed too many, so +that Polly drove the rest of the way with her knees raised to a hump in +front of her. All the afternoon they had been making for dim blue +ranges. After leaving the flats near Geelong, the track went up and +down. Grey-green forest surrounded them, out of which nobbly hills rose +like islands from a sea of trees. As they approached the end of their +journey, they overtook a large number of heavy vehicles labouring along +through the mire. A coach with six horses dashed past them at full +gallop, and left them rapidly behind. Did they have to skirt +bull-punchers who were lashing or otherwise ill-treating their teams, +Mahony urged on the horse and bade Polly shut her eyes. + +Night had fallen and a drizzling rain get in, by the time they +travelled the last couple of miles to Ballarat. This was the worst of +all; and Polly held her breath while the horse picked its way among +yawning pits, into which one false step would have plunged them. Her +fears were not lessened by hearing that in several places the very road +was undermined; and she was thankful when Richard--himself rendered +uneasy by the precious cargo he bore--got out and walked at the horse's +head. They drew up before a public-house. Cramped from sitting and numb +with cold, Polly climbed stiffly down as bidden; and Mahony having +unloaded the baggage, mounted to his seat again to drive the cart into +the yard. This was a false move, as he was quick to see: he should not +have left Polly standing alone. For the news of the arrival of "Doc." +Mahony and his bride flew from mouth to mouth, and all the loafers who +were in the bar turned out to stare and to quiz. Beside her tumulus of +trunk, bag, bundle little Polly stood desolate, with drooping +shoulders; and cursing his want of foresight, Mahony all but drove into +the gatepost, which occasioned a loud guffaw. Nor had Long Jim turned +up as ordered, to shoulder the heavy luggage. These blunders made +Mahony very hot and curt. Having himself stowed the things inside the +bar and borrowed a lantern, he drew his wife's arm through his, and +hurried her away. + +It was pitch-dark, and the ground was wet and squelchy. Their feet sank +in the mud. Polly clung to Richard's arm, trembling at the rude voices, +the laughter, the brawling, that issued from the grog-shops; at the +continual apparition of rough, bearded men. One of these, who held a +candle stuck in a bottle, was accosted by Richard and soundly rated. +When they turned out of the street with its few dismal oil-lamps, their +way led them among dirty tents and black pits, and they had to depend +for light on the lantern they carried. They crossed a rickety little +bridge over a flooded river; then climbed a slope, on which in her +bunchy silk skirts Polly slipped and floundered, to stop before +something that was half a tent and half a log-hut.--What! this the end +of the long, long journey! This the house she had to live in? + +Yes, Richard was speaking. "Welcome home, little wife! Not much of a +place, you see, but the best I can give you." + +"It's ... it's very nice, Richard," said Polly staunchly; but her lips +trembled. + +Warding off the attack of a big, fierce, dirty dog, which sprang at +her, dragging its paws down her dress, Polly waited while her husband +undid the door, then followed him through a chaos, which smelt as she +had never believed any roofed-in place could smell, to a little room at +the back. + +Mahony lighted the lamp that stood ready on the table, and threw a +satisfied glance round. His menfolk had done well: things were in +apple-pie order. The fire crackled, the kettle was on the boil, the +cloth spread. He turned to Polly to kiss her welcome, to relieve her of +bonnet and mantle. But before he could do this there came a noise of +rowdy voices, of shouting and parleying. Picking up the lantern, he ran +out to see what the matter was. + +Left alone Polly remained standing by the table, on which an array of +tins was set--preserved salmon, sardines, condensed milk--their tops +forced back to show their contents. Her heart was heavy as lead, and +she felt a dull sense of injury as well. This hut her home!--to which +she had so freely invited sister and friend! She would be ashamed for +them ever to set eyes on it. Not in her worst dreams had she imagined +it as mean and poor as this. But perhaps .... With the lamp in her +hand, she tip-toed guiltily to a door in the wall: it opened into a +tiny bedroom with a sloping roof. No, this was all, all there was of +it: just these two miserable little poky rooms! She raised her head and +looked round, and the tears welled up in spite of herself. The roof was +so low that you could almost touch it; the window was no larger than a +pocket-handkerchief; there were chinks between the slabs of the walls. +And from one of these she now saw a spider crawl out, a huge black +tarantula, with horrible hairy legs. Polly was afraid of spiders; and +at this the tears began to overflow and to trickle down her cheeks. +Holding her skirts to her--the new dress she had made with such pride, +now damp, and crushed, and soiled--she sat down and put her feet, in +their soaked, mud-caked, little prunella boots, on the rung of her +chair, for fear of other monsters that might be crawling the floor. + +And then, while she sat thus hunched together, the voices outside were +suddenly drowned in a deafening noise--in a hideous, stupefying din, +that nearly split one's eardrums: it sounded as though all the tins and +cans in the town were being beaten and banged before the door. Polly +forgot the tarantula, forgot her bitter disappointment with her new +home. Her black eyes wide with fear, her heart thudding in her chest, +she sprang to her feet and stood ready, if need be, to defend herself. +Where, oh where was Richard? + +It was the last straw. When, some five minutes later, Mahony came +bustling in: he had soothed the "kettledrummers" and sent them off with +a handsome gratuity, and he carried the trunk on his own shoulder, Long +Jim following behind with bags and bundles: when he entered, he found +little Polly sitting with her head huddled on her arms, crying as +though her heart would break. + + + + + +Part II + + + +Chapter I + +Over the fathomless grey seas that tossed between, dissevering the +ancient and gigantic continent from the tiny motherland, unsettling +rumours ran. After close on forty years' fat peace, England had armed +for hostilities again, her fleet set sail for a foreign sea. Such was +the news the sturdy clipper-ships brought out, in tantalising +fragments; and those who, like Richard Mahony, were mere +birds-of-passage in the colony, and had friends and relatives going to +the front, caught hungrily at every detail. But to the majority of the +colonists what England had done, or left undone, in preparation for +war, was of small account. To them the vital question was: will the +wily Russian Bear take its revenge by sending men-of-war to annihilate +us and plunder the gold in our banks--us, months removed from English +aid? And the opinion was openly expressed that in casting off her +allegiance to Great Britain, and becoming a neutral state, lay young +Australia's best hope of safety. + +But, even while they made it, the proposers of this scheme were +knee-deep in petty, local affairs again. All Europe was depressed under +the cloud of war; but they went on belabouring hackneyed themes--the +unlocking of the lands, iniquitous licence-fees, official corruption. +Mahony could not stand it. His heart was in England, went up and down +with England's hopes and fears. He smarted under the tales told of the +inefficiency of the British troops and the paucity of their numbers; +under the painful disclosures made by journalists, injudiciously +allowed to travel to the seat of war; he questioned, like many another +of his class in the old country, the wisdom of the Duke of Newcastle's +orders to lay siege to the port of Sebastopol. And of an evening, when +the store was closed, he sat over stale English newspapers and a map of +the Crimea, and meticulously followed the movements of the Allies. + +But in this retirement he was rudely disturbed, by feeling himself +touched on a vulnerable spot--that of his pocket. Before the end of the +year trade had come to a standstill, and the very town he lived in was +under martial law. + +On both Ballarat and the Bendigo the agitation for the repeal of the +licence-tax had grown more and more vehement; and spring's arrival +found the digging-community worked up to a white heat. The new +Governor's tour of inspection, on which great hopes had been built, +served only to aggravate the trouble. Misled by the golden treasures +with which the diggers, anxious as children to please, dazzled his +eyes, the Governor decided that the tax was not an outrageous one; and +ordered licence-raids to be undertaken twice as often as before. This +defeat of the diggers' hopes, together with the murder of a comrade and +the acquittal of the murderer by a corrupt magistrate, goaded even the +least sensitive spirits to rebellion: the guilty man's house was fired, +the police were stoned, and then, for a month or more, deputations and +petitions ran to and fro between Ballarat and Melbourne. In vain: the +demands of the voteless diggers went unheard. The consequence was that +one day at the beginning of summer all the troops that could be spared +from the capital, along with several pieces of artillery, were raising +the dust on the road to Ballarat. + +On the last afternoon in November work was suspended throughout the +diggings, and the more cautious among the shopkeepers began to think of +closing their doors. In front of the "Diggers' Emporium," where the +earth was baked as hard as a burnt crust, a little knot of people stood +shading their eyes from the sun. Opposite, on Bakery Hill, a monster +meeting had been held and the "Southern Cross" hoisted--a blue bunting +that bore the silver stars of the constellation after which it was +named. Having sworn allegiance to it with outstretched hands, the +rebels were lining up to march off to drill. + +Mahony watched the thin procession through narrowed lids. In theory he +condemned equally the blind obstinacy of the authorities, who went on +tightening the screw, and the foolhardiness of the men. But--well, he +could not get his eye to shirk one of the screaming banners and +placards: "Down with Despotism!" "Who so base as be a Slave!" by means +of which the diggers sought to inflame popular indignation. "If only +honest rebels could get on without melodramatic exaggeration! As it is, +those good fellows yonder are rendering a just cause ridiculous." + +Polly tightened her clasp of his arm. She had known no peace since the +evening before, when a rough-looking man had come into the store and, +with revolver at full cock, had commanded Hempel to hand over all the +arms and ammunition it contained. Hempel, much to Richard's wrath, had +meekly complied; but it might have been Richard himself; he would for +certain have refused; and then.... Polly had hardly slept for thinking +of it. She now listened in deferential silence to the men's talk; but +when old Ocock--he never had a good word to say for the riotous +diggers--took his pipe out of his mouth to remark: "A pack o' Tipperary +boys spoilin' for a fight--that's what I say. An' yet, blow me if I +wouldn't 'a bin glad if one o' my two 'ad 'ad spunk enough to join +'em,"--at this Polly could not refrain from saying pitifully: "Oh, Mr. +Ocock, do you really MEAN that?" For both Purdy and brother Ned were in +the rebel band, and Polly's heart was heavy because of them. + +"Can't you see my brother anywhere?" she asked Hempel, who held an old +spyglass to his eyes. + +"No, ma'am, sorry to say I can't," replied Hempel. He would willingly +have conjured up a dozen brothers to comfort Polly; but he could not +swerve from the truth, even for her. + +"Give me the glass," said Mahony, and swept the line.--"No, no sign of +either of them. Perhaps they thought better of it after all.--Listen! +now they're singing--can you hear them? The MARSEILLAISE as I'm alive. +--Poor fools! Many of them are armed with nothing more deadly than +picks and shovels." + +"And pikes," corrected Hempel. "Several carry pikes, sir." + +"Ay, that's so, they've bin 'ammerin' out bits of old iron all the +mornin'," agreed Ocock. "It's said they 'aven't a quarter of a firearm +apiece. And the drillin'! Lord love yer! 'Alf of 'em don't know their +right 'and from their left. The troops 'ull make mincemeat of 'em, if +they come to close quarters." + +"Oh, I hope not!" said Polly. "Oh, I do hope they won't get hurt." + +Patting her hand, Mahony advised his wife to go indoors and resume her +household tasks. And since his lightest wish was a command, little +Polly docilely withdrew her arm and returned to her dishwashing. But +though she rubbed and scoured with her usual precision, her heart was +not in her work. Both on this day and the next she seemed to exist +solely in her two ears. The one strained to catch any scrap of news +about "poor Ned"; the other listened, with an even sharper anxiety, to +what went on in the store. Several further attempts were made to get +arms and provisions from Richard; and each time an angry scene ensued. +Close up beside the thin partition, her hands locked under her +cooking-apron, Polly sat and trembled for her husband. He had already +got himself talked about by refusing to back a Reform League; and now +she heard him openly declare to some one that he disapproved of the +terms of this League, from A to Z. Oh dear! If only he wouldn't. But +she was careful not to add to his worries by speaking of her fears. As +it was, he came to tea with a moody face. + +The behaviour of the foraging parties growing more and more +threatening, Mahony thought it prudent to follow the general example +and put up his shutters. Wildly conflicting rumours were in the air. +One report said a contingent of Creswick dare-devils had arrived to +join forces with the insurgents; another that the Creswickers, +disgusted at finding neither firearms nor quarters provided for them, +had straightway turned and marched the twelve miles home again. For a +time it was asserted that Lalor, the Irish leader, had been bought over +by the government; then, just as definitely, that his influence alone +held the rebel faction together. Towards evening Long Jim was +dispatched to find out how matters really stood. He brought back word +that the diggers had entrenched themselves on a piece of rising ground +near the Eureka lead, behind a flimsy barricade of logs, slabs, ropes +and overturned carts. The Camp, for its part, was screened by a +breastwork of firewood, trusses of hay and bags of corn; while the +mounted police stood or lay fully armed by their horses, which were +saddled ready for action at a moment's notice. + +Neither Ned nor Purdy put in an appearance, and the night passed +without news of them. Just before dawn, however, Mahony was wakened by +a tapping at the window. Thrusting out his head he recognised young +Tommy Ocock, who had been sent by his father to tell "doctor" that the +soldiers were astir. Lights could be seen moving about the Camp, a +horse had neighed--father thought spies might have given them the hint +that at least half the diggers from the Stockade had come down to Main +Street last night, and got drunk, and never gone back. With a concerned +glance at Polly Mahony struggled into his clothes. He must make another +effort to reach the boys--especially Ned, for Polly's sake. When Ned +had first announced his intention of siding with the insurgents, he had +merely shrugged his shoulders, believing that the young vapourer would +soon have had enough of it. Now he felt responsible to his wife for +Ned's safety: Ned, whose chief reason for turning rebel, he suspected, +was that a facetious trooper had once dubbed him "Eytalian +organ-grinder," and asked him where he kept his monkey. + +But Mahony's designs of a friendly interference came too late. The +troops had got away, creeping stealthily through the morning dusk; and +he was still panting up Specimen Hill when he heard the crack of a +rifle. Confused shouts and cries followed. Then a bugle blared, and the +next instant the rattle and bang of musketry split the air. + +Together with a knot of others, who like himself had run forth half +dressed, Mahony stopped and waited, in extreme anxiety; and, while he +stood, the stars went out, one by one, as though a finger-tip touched +them. The diggers' response to the volley of the attacking party was +easily distinguished: it was a dropping fire, and sounded like a thin +hail-shower after a peal of thunder. Within half an hour all was over: +the barricade had fallen, to cheers and laughter from the military; the +rebel flag was torn down; huts and tents inside the enclosure were +going up in flames. + +Towards six o'clock, just as the December sun, huge and fiery, thrust +the edge of its globe above the horizon, a number of onlookers ran up +the slope to all that was left of the ill-fated stockade. On the dust, +bloodstains, now set hard as scabs, traced the route by which a +wretched procession of prisoners had been marched to the Camp gaol. +Behind the demolished barrier huts smouldered as heaps of blackened +embers; and the ground was strewn with stark forms, which lay +about--some twenty or thirty of them--in grotesque attitudes. Some +sprawled with outstretched arms, their sightless eyes seeming to fix +the pale azure of the sky; others were hunched and huddled in a last +convulsion. And in the course of his fruitless search for friend and +brother, an old instinct reasserted itself in Mahony: kneeling down he +began swiftly and dexterously to examine the prostrate bodies. Two or +three still heaved, the blood gurgling from throat and breast like +water from the neck of a bottle. Here, one had a mouth plugged with +shot, and a beard as stiff as though it were made of rope. Another that +he turned over was a German he had once heard speak at a diggers' +meeting--a windy braggart of a man, with a quaint impediment in his +speech. Well, poor soul! he would never mouth invectives or tickle the +ribs of an audience again. His body was a very colander of wounds. Some +had not bled either. It looked as though the soldiers had viciously +gone on prodding and stabbing the fallen. + +Stripping a corpse of its shirt, he tore off a piece of stuff to make a +bandage for a shattered leg. While he was binding the limb to a board, +young Tom ran up to say that the military, returning with carts, were +arresting every one they met in the vicinity. With others who had been +covering up and carrying away their friends, Mahony hastened down the +back of the hill towards the bush. Here was plain evidence of a +stampede. More bloodstains pointed the track, and a number of odd and +clumsy weapons had been dropped or thrown away by the diggers in their +flight. + +He went home with the relatively good tidings that neither Ned nor +Purdy was to be found. Polly was up and dressed. She had also lighted +the fire and set water on to boil, "just in case." "Was there ever such +a sensible little woman?" said her husband with a kiss. + +The day dragged by, flat and stale after the excitement of the morning. +No one ventured far from cover; for the military remained under arms, +and detachments of mounted troopers patrolled the streets. At the Camp +the hundred odd prisoners were being sorted out, and the maimed and +wounded doctored in the rude little temporary hospital. Down in Main +Street the noise of hammering went on hour after hour. The dead could +not be kept, in the summer heat, must be got underground before dark. + +Mahony had just secured his premises for the night, when there came a +rapping at the back door. In the yard stood a stranger who, when the +dog Pompey had been chidden and soothed, made mysterious signs to +Mahony and murmured a well-known name. Admitted to the sitting-room he +fished a scrap of dirty paper from his boot. Mahony put the candle on +the table and straightened out the missive. Sure enough, it was in +Purdy's hand--though sadly scrawled. + +HAVE BEEN HIT IN THE PIN. COME IF POSSIBLE AND BRING YOUR TOOLS. THE +BEARER IS SQUARE. + +Polly could hear the two of them talking in low, urgent tones. But her +relief that the visitor brought no bad news of her brother was dashed +when she learned that Richard had to ride out into the bush, to visit a +sick man. However she buttoned her bodice, and with her hair hanging +down her back went into the sitting-room to help her husband; for he +was turning the place upside down. He had a pair of probe-scissors +somewhere, he felt sure, if he could only lay hands on them. And while +he ransacked drawers and cupboards for one or other of the few poor +instruments left him, his thoughts went back, inopportunely enough, to +the time when he had been surgeon's dresser in the Edinburgh Royal +Infirmary. O TEMPORA, O MORES! He wondered what old Syme, that prince +of surgeons, would say, could he see his whilom student raking out a +probe from among the ladles and kitchen spoons, a roll of lint from +behind the saucepans. + +Bag in hand, he followed his guide to where the latter had left a horse +in safe-keeping; and having lengthened the stirrups and received +instructions about the road, he set off for the hut in the ranges which +Purdy had contrived to reach. He had an awkward cross-country ride of +some four miles before him; but this did not trouble him. The +chance-touched spring had opened the gates to a flood of memories; and, +as he jogged along, he re-lived in thought the happy days spent as a +student under the shadow of Arthur's Seat, round the College, the +Infirmary and old Surgeons' Square. Once more he sat in the theatre, +the breathless spectator of famous surgical operations; or as +house-surgeon to the Lying-in Hospital himself assisted in daring +attempts to lessen suffering and save life. It was, of course, too late +now to bemoan the fact that he had broken with his profession. Yet only +that very day envy had beset him. The rest of the fraternity had run to +and from the tents where the wounded were housed, while he, behung with +his shopman's apron, pottered about among barrels and crates. No one +thought of enlisting his services; another, not he, would set (or +bungle) the fracture he had temporarily splinted. + +The hut--it had four slab walls and an earthen floor--was in darkness +on his arrival, for Purdy had not dared to make a light. He lay tossing +restlessly on a dirty old straw palliasse, and was in great pain; but +greeted his friend with a dash of the old brio. + +Hanging his coat over the chinks in the door, and turning back his +sleeves, Mahony took up the lantern and stooped to examine the injured +leg. A bullet had struck the right ankle, causing an ugly wound. He +washed it out, dressed and bandaged it. He also bathed the patient's +sweat-soaked head and shoulders; then sat down to await the owner of +the hut's return. + +As soon as the latter appeared he took his leave, promising to ride out +again the night after next. In spite of the circumstances under which +they met, he and Purdy parted with a slight coolness. Mahony had loudly +voiced his surprise at the nature of the wound caused by the bullet: it +was incredible that any of the military could have borne a weapon of +this calibre. Pressed, Purdy admitted that his hurt was a piece of +gross ill-luck: he had been accidentally shot by a clumsy fool of a +digger, from an ancient holster-pistol. + +To Mahony this seemed to cap the climax; and he did not mask his +sentiments. The pitiful little forcible-feeble rebellion, all along but +a futile attempt to cast straws against the wind, was now completely +over and done with, and would never be heard of again. Or such at +least, he added, was the earnest hope of the law-abiding community. +This irritated Purdy, who was spumy with the self-importance of one who +has stood in the thick of the fray. He answered hotly, and ended by +rapping out with a contemptuous click of the tongue: "Upon my word, +Dick, you look at the whole thing like the tradesman you are!" + +These words rankled in Mahony all the way home.--Trust Purdy for not, +in anger, being able to resist giving him a flick on the raw. It made +him feel thankful he was no longer so dependent on this friendship as +of old. Since then he had tasted better things. Now, a woman's heart +beat in sympathetic understanding; there met his, two lips which had +never said an unkind word. He pushed on with a new zest, reaching home +about dawn. And over his young wife's joy at his safe return, he forgot +the shifting moods of his night-journey. + +It had, however, this result. Next day Polly found him with his head in +one of the great old shabby black books which, to her mind, spoilt the +neat appearance of the bookshelves. He stood to read, the volume lying +open before him on the top of the cold stove, and was so deeply +engrossed that the store-bell rang twice without his hearing it. When, +reminded that Hempel was absent, he whipped out to answer it, he +carried the volume with him. + + + + +Chapter II + +But his first treatment of Purdy's wound was also his last. Two nights +later he found the hut deserted; and diligently as he prowled round it +in the moonlight, he could discover no clue to the fate of its +occupants. There was nothing to be done but to head his horse for home +again. Polly was more fortunate. Within three days of the fight Ned +turned up, sound as a bell. He was sporting a new hat, a flashy silk +neckerchief and a silver watch and chain. At sight of these kickshaws a +dismal suspicion entered Mahony's mind, and refused to be dislodged. +But he did not breathe his doubts--for Polly's sake. Polly was +rapturously content to see her brother again. She threw her arms round +his neck, and listened, with her big, black, innocent eyes--except for +their fleckless candour, the counterpart of Ned's own--to the tale of +his miraculous escape, and of the rich gutter he had had the good luck +to strike. + +Meanwhile public feeling, exasperated beyond measure by the tragedy of +that summer dawn, slowly subsided. Hesitation, timidity, and a very +human waiting on success had held many diggers back from joining in the +final coup; but the sympathy of the community was with the rebels, and +at the funerals of the fallen, hundreds of mourners, in such black +coats as they could muster, marched side by side to the wild little +unfenced bush cemetery. When, too, the relief-party arrived from +Melbourne and martial law was proclaimed, the residents handed over +their firearms as ordered; but an attempt to swear in special +constables failed, not a soul stepping forward in support of the +government. + +There was literally nothing doing during the month the military +occupied Ballarat. Mahony seized the opportunity to give his back +premises a coat of paint; he also began to catalogue his collection of +Lepidoptera. Hence, as far as business was concerned, it was a timely +moment for the arrival of a letter from Henry Ocock, to the effect +that, "subject of course to any part-heard case," "our case" was first +on the list for a date early in January. + +None the less, the announcement threw Mahony into the fidgets. He had +almost clean forgotten the plaguey affair: it had its roots in the dark +days before his marriage. He wished now he had thought twice before +letting himself be entangled in a lawsuit. Now, he had a wife dependent +on him, and to lose the case, and be held responsible for costs, would +cripple him. And such a verdict was not at all unlikely; for Purdy, his +chief witness, could not be got at: the Lord alone knew where Purdy lay +hid. He at once sat down and wrote the bad news to his solicitor. + +At six o'clock in the morning some few days later, he took his seat in +the coach for Melbourne. By his side sat Johnny Ocock, the elder of the +two brothers. Johnny had by chance been within earshot during the +negotiations with the rascally carrier, and on learning this, Henry had +straightway subpoenaed him. Mahony was none too well pleased: the boy +threatened to be a handful. His old father, on delivering him up at the +coach-office, had drawn Mahony aside to whisper: "Don't let the young +limb out o' yer sight, doc., or get nip or sip o' liquor. If 'e so much +as wets 'is tongue, there's no 'olding 'im." Johnny was a lean, +pimply-faced youth, with cold, flabby hands. + +Little Polly had to stay behind. Mahony would have liked to give her +the trip and show her the sights of the capital; but the law-courts +were no place for a woman; neither could he leave her sitting alone in +a hotel. And a tentative letter to her brother John had not called +forth an invitation: Mrs. Emma was in delicate health at present, and +had no mind for visitors. So he committed Polly to the care of Hempel +and Long Jim, both of whom were her faithful henchmen. She herself, in +proper wifely fashion, proposed to give her little house a good red-up +in its master's absence. + +Mahony and Johnny dismounted from the coach in the early afternoon, +sore, stiff and hungry: they had broken their fast merely on +half-a-dozen sandwiches, keeping their seats the while that the young +toper might be spared the sight of intoxicating liquors. Now, stopping +only to brush off the top layer of dust and snatch a bite of solid +food, Mahony hastened away, his witness at heel, to Chancery Lane. + +It was a relief to find that Ocock was not greatly put out at Purdy +having failed them. "Leave it to us, sir. We'll make that all right." +As on the previous visit he dry-washed his hands while he spoke, and +his little eyes shot flashes from one to the other, like electric +sparks. He proposed just to run through the morrow's evidence with "our +young friend there"; and in the course of this rehearsal said more than +once: "Good ... good! Why, sonny, you're quite smart." This when Johnny +succeeded in grasping his drift. But at the least hint of unreadiness +or hesitation, he tut-tutted and drew his brows together. And as it +went on, it seemed to Mahony that Ocock was putting words into the +boy's mouth; while Johnny, intimidated, said yes and amen to things he +could not possibly know. Presently he interfered to this effect. Ocock +brushed his remark aside. But after a second interruption from Mahony: +"I think, sir, with your permission we will ask John not to depart from +what he actually heard," the lawyer shuffled his papers into a heap and +said that would do for to-day: they would meet at the court in the +morning. Prior to shaking hands, however, he threw out a hint that he +would like a word with his brother on family matters. And for half an +hour Mahony paced the street below. + +The remainder of the day was spent in keeping Johnny out of +temptation's way, in trying to interest him in the life of the city, +its monuments and curiosities. But the lad was too apathetic to look +about him, and never opened his mouth. Once only in the course of the +afternoon did he offer a kind of handle. In their peregrinations they +passed a Book Arcade, where Mahony stopped to turn the leaves of a +volume. Johnny also took up a book, and began to read. + +"What is it?" asked Mahony. "Would you like to have it, my boy?" + +Johnny stonily accepted the gift--it was a tale of Red Indians, the +pages smudged with gaudy illustrations--and put it under his arm. + +At the good supper that was set before him he picked with a meagre +zest; then fell asleep. Mahony took the opportunity to write a line to +Polly to tell of their safe arrival; and having sealed the letter, ran +out to post it. He was not away for more than three minutes, but when +he came back Johnny was gone. He hunted high and low for him, ransacked +the place without success: the boy had spoken to no one, nor had he +been seen to leave the coffee-room; and as the clock-hands were nearing +twelve, Mahony was obliged to give up the search and go back to the +hotel. It was impossible at that hour to let Ocock know of this fresh +piece of ill-luck. Besides, there was just a chance the young scamp +would turn up in the morning. Morning came, however, and no Johnny with +it. Outwitted and chagrined, Mahony set off for the court alone. + +Day had broken dim and misty, and by the time breakfast was over a +north wind was raging--a furnace-like blast that bore off the sandy +deserts of the interior. The sun was a yellow blotch in a copper sky; +the thermometer had leapt to a hundred and ten in the shade. Blinding +clouds of coarse, gritty dust swept house-high through the streets: +half-suffocated, Mahony fought his way along, his veil lowered, his +handkerchief at his mouth. Outside those public-houses that advertised +ice, crowds stood waiting their turn of entry; while half-naked barmen, +their linen trousers drenched with sweat, worked like niggers to mix +drinks which should quench these bottomless thirsts. Mahony believed he +was the only perfectly sober person in the lobby of the court. Even +Ocock himself would seem to have been indulging. + +This suspicion was confirmed by the lawyer's behaviour. No sooner did +Ocock espy him than up he rushed, brandishing the note that had been +got to him early that morning--and now his eyes looked like little dabs +of pitch in his chalk-white face, and his manner, stripped of its +veneer, let the real man show through. + +"Curse it, sir, and what's the meaning of this, I'd like to know?" he +cried, and struck at the sheet of notepaper with his free hand. "A +pretty fix to put us in at the last minute, upon my word! It was your +business, sir, to nurse your witness ... after all the trouble I'd been +to with him! What the devil do you expect us to do now?" + +Mahony's face paled under its top-dressing of dust and moisture. To +Ocock's gross: "Well, it's your own look-out, confound you!--entirely +your own look-out," he returned a cool: "Certainly," then moved to one +side and took up his stand in a corner of the hall, out of the way of +the jostle and bustle, the constant going and coming that gave the +hinges of the door no rest. + +When after a weary wait the time came to enter court, he continued to +give Ocock, who had been deep in consultation with his clerk, a wide +berth, and moved forward among a number of other people. A dark, +ladder-like stair led to the upper storey. While he was mounting this, +some words exchanged in a low tone behind him arrested his attention. + +"Are you O.K., old man?" + +"We are, if our client doesn't give us away. But he has to be handled +like a hot--" Here the sentence snapped, for Mahony, bitten by a sudden +doubt, faced sharply round. But it was a stranger who uncivilly accused +him of treading on his toe. + +The court--it was not much more than twenty feet square--was like an +ill-smelling oven. Every chink and crack had been stopped against the +searing wind; and the atmosphere was a brew of all the sour odours, the +offensive breaths, given off by the two-score odd people crushed within +its walls. In spite of precautions the dust had got in: it lay thick on +sills, desks and papers, gritted between the teeth, made the throat +raspy as a file. + +Mahony had given up all hope of winning his case, and looked forward to +the sorry pleasure of assisting at a miscarriage of justice. During the +speech for the plaintiff, however, he began to see the matter in +another light. Not so much thanks to the speaker, as in spite of him. +Plaintiff's counsel was a common little fellow of ungainly appearance: +a double toll of fat bulged over the neck of his gown, and his wig, +hastily re-donned after a breathing-space, sat askew. Nor was he +anything of an orator: he stumbled over his sentences, and once or +twice lost his place altogether. To his dry presentment of the case +nobody seemed to pay heed. The judge, tired of wiping his spectacles +dry, leant back and closed his eyes. Mahony believed he slept, as did +also some of the jurors, deaf to the Citation of Dawes V. Peck and +Dunlop V. Lambert; to the assertion that the carrier was the agent, the +goods were accepted, the property had "passed." This "passing" of the +property was evidently a strong point; the plaintiff's name itself was +not much oftener on the speaker's lips. "The absconding driver, me Lud, +was a personal friend of the defendant's. Mr. Bolliver never knew him; +hence could not engage him. Had this person not been thrust upon him, +Mr. Bolliver would have employed the same carrier as on a previous +occasion." And so on and on. + +Mahony listened hand at ear, that organ not being keyed up to the +mutterings and mumblings of justice. And for all the dullness of the +subject-matter and counsel's lack of eloquence his interest did not +flag. It was the first time he heard the case for the other side stated +plainly; and he was dismayed to find how convincing it was. Put thus, +it must surely gain over every honest, straight-thinking man. In +comparison, the points Ocock was going to advance shrank to mere legal +quibbles and hair-splitting evasions. + +Then the plaintiff himself went into the witness-box--and Mahony's +feelings became involved as well. This his adversary!--this poor old +mangy greybeard, who stood blinking a pair of rheumy eyes and weakly +smiling. One did not pit oneself against such human flotsam. Drunkard +was stamped on every inch of the man, but this morning, in odd +exception to the well-primed crew around him, he was +sober--bewilderedly sober--and his shabby clothing was brushed, his +frayed collar clean. Recognising the pitiful bid for sympathy, Mahony +caught himself thinking: "Good Lord! I could have supplied him with a +coat he'd have cut a better figure than that in." + +Bolliver clutched the edge of the box with his two hands. His unusual +condition was a hindrance rather than a help to him; without a peg or +two his woolly thoughts were not to be disentangled. He stammered forth +his evidence, halting either to piece together what he was going to +say, or to recollect what he had just said--it was clear he went in +mortal fear of contradicting himself. The scene was painful enough +while he faced his own counsel, but, when counsel for the defence rose, +a half-hour followed in which Mahony wished himself far from the court. + +Bolliver could not come to the point. Counsel was merciless and +coarsely jocose, and brought off several laughs. His victim wound his +knotty hands in and out, and swallowed oftener than he had saliva for, +in a forlorn endeavour to evade the pitfalls artfully dug for him. More +than once he threw a covert glance, that was like an appeal for help, +at all the indifferent faces. Mahony drooped his head, that their eyes +should not meet. + +In high feather at the effect he was producing, counsel inserted his +left arm under his gown, and held the stuff out from his back with the +tips of all five fingers. + +"And now you'll p'raps have the goodness to tell us whether you've ever +had occasion to send goods by a carrier before, in the course of your +young life?" + +"Yes." It was a humble monosyllable, returned without spirit. + +"Then of course you've heard of this Murphy?" + +"N ... no, I haven't," answered Bolliver, and let his vacillating eyes +wander to the judge and back. + +"You tell that to the marines!" And after half a dozen other tricky +questions: "I put it to you, it's a well-known fact that he's been a +carrier hereabouts for the last couple o' years or more?" + +"I don't know--I sup ... sup-pose so." Bolliver's tongue grew heavy and +tripped up his words. + +"And yet you've the cheek, you old rogue you, to insinuate that this +was a put-up job?" + +"I ... I only say what I heard." + +"I don't care a button what you heard or didn't hear. What I ask, my +pretty, is do you yourself say so?" + +"The ... the defendant recommended him." + +"I put it to you, this man Murphy was one of the best known carriers in +Melbourne, and THAT was why the defendant recommended him--are you out +to deny it?" + +"N ... n ... no." + +"Then you can stand down!" and leaning over to Grindle, who was below +him, counsel whispered with a pleased spread of the hand: "There you +are! that's our case." + +There was a painful moment just before Bolliver left the witness-box. +As if become suddenly alive to the sorry figure he had cut, he turned +to the judge with hands clasped, exclaimed: "My Lord, if the case goes +against me, I'm done ... stony-broke! And the defendant's got a down on +me, my Lord--'e's made up his mind to ruin me. Look at him a-setting +there--a hard man, a mean man, if ever you saw one! What would the bit +of money 'ave meant to 'im? But ..." + +He was rudely silenced and hustled away, to a sharp rebuke from the +judge, who woke up to give it. All eyes were turned on Mahony. Under +the fire of observation--they were comparing him, he knew, with the +poor old Jeremy Diddler yonder, to the latter's disadvantage--his spine +stiffened and he held himself nervously erect. But, the quizzing at an +end, he fumbled with his finger at his neck--his collar seemed to have +grown too tight. While, without, the hot blast, dark with dust, flung +itself against the corners of the house, and howled like a soul in pain. + +Counsel for the defence made an excellent impression. "Naturally! I can +afford to pay a better-class man," was Mahony's caustic note. He had +fallen to scribbling on a sheet of paper, and was resigned to sitting +through an adept presentment of Ocock's shifts and dodges. But the +opening words made him prick up his ears. + +"My Lord," said counsel, "I submit there is here no case to go to the +jury. No written contract existed between the parties, to bring it +within the Statute of Frauds. Therefore, the plaintiff must prove that +the defendant accepted these goods. Now I submit to you, on the +plaintiff's own admission, that the man Murphy was a common carrier. +Your Lordship will know the cases of Hanson V. Armitage and various +others, in which it has been established beyond doubt that a carrier is +not an agent to accept goods." + +The judge had revived, and while counsel called the quality of the +undelivered goods in question, and laid stress on the fact of no money +having passed, he turned the pages of a thick red book with a moistened +thumb. Having found what he sought, he pushed up his spectacles, opened +his mouth, and, his eyes bent meditatively on the speaker, picked a +back tooth with the nail of his first finger. + +"Therefore," concluded counsel, "I hold that there is no question of +fact to go to the jury. I do not wish to occupy your Lordship's time +any further upon this submission. I have my client here, and all his +witnesses are in court whom I am prepared to call, should your Lordship +decide against me on the present point. But I do submit that the +plaintiff, on his own showing, has made out no case; and that under the +circumstances, upon his own evidence, this action must fail." + +At the reference to witnesses, Mahony dug his pencil into the paper +till the point snapped. So this was their little game! And should the +bluff not work ...? He sat rigid, staring at the chipped fragment of +lead, and did not look up throughout the concluding scene of the farce. + +It was over; the judge had decided in his favour. He jumped to his +feet, and his coat-sleeve swept the dust off the entire length of the +ledge in front of him. But before he reached the foot of the stairs +Grindle came flying down, to say that Ocock wished to speak to him. +Very good, replied Mahony, he would call at the office in the course of +the afternoon. But the clerk left the courthouse at his side. And +suddenly the thought flashed through Mahony's mind: "The fellow +suspects me of trying to do a bolt--of wanting to make off without +paying my bill!" + +The leech-like fashion in which Grindle stuck to his heels was not to +be misread. "This is what they call nursing, I suppose--he's nursing ME +now!" said Mahony to himself. At the same time he reckoned up, with +some anxiety, the money he had in his pocket. Should it prove +insufficient, who knew what further affronts were in store for him. + +But Ocock had recovered his oily sleekness. + +"A close shave that, sir, a VE-RY close shave! With Warnock on the +bench I thought we could manage to pull it off. Had it been Guppy now +... Still, all's well that ends well, as the poet says. And now for a +trifling matter of business." + +"How much do I owe you?" + +The bill--it was already drawn up--for "solicitor's and client's costs" +came to twenty odd pounds. Mahony paid it, and stalked out of the +office. + +But this was still not all. Once again Grindle ran after him, and +pinned him to the floor. + +"I say, Mr. Mahony, a rare joke--gad, it's enough to make you burst +your sides! That old thingumbob, the plaintiff, ye know, now what'n +earth d'you think 'e's been an' done? Gets outer court like one +o'clock--'e'd a sorter rabbit-fancyin' business in 'is backyard. Well, +'ome 'e trots an' slits the guts of every blamed bunny, an' chucks the +bloody corpses inter the street. Oh lor! What do you say to that, eh? +Unfurnished in the upper storey, what? Heh, heh, heh!" + + + + +Chapter III + +How truly "home" the poor little gimcrack shanty had become to him, +Mahony grasped only when he once more crossed its threshold and Polly's +arms lay round his neck. + +His search for Johnny Ocock had detained him in Melbourne for over a +week. Under the guidance of young Grindle he had scoured the city, not +omitting even the dens of infamy in the Chinese quarter; and he did not +know which to be more saddened by: the revolting sights he saw, or his +guide's proud familiarity with every shade of vice. But nothing could +be heard of the missing lad; and at the suggestion of Henry Ocock he +put an advertisement in the ARGUS, offering a substantial reward for +news of Johnny alive or dead. + +While waiting to see what this would bring forth, he paid a visit to +John Turnham. It had not been part of his scheme to trouble his new +relatives on this occasion; he bore them a grudge for the way they had +met Polly's overture. But he was at his wits' end how to kill time: +chafing at the delay was his main employment, if he were not worrying +over the thought of having to appear before old Ocock without his son. +So, one midday he called at Turnham's place of business in Flinders +Lane, and was affably received by John, who carried him off to lunch at +the Melbourne Club. Turnham was a warm partisan of the diggers' cause. +He had addressed a mass meeting held in Melbourne, soon after the fight +on the Eureka; and he now roundly condemned the government's policy of +repression. + +"I am, as you are aware, my dear Mahony, no sentimentalist. But these +rioters of yours seem to me the very type of man the country needs. +Could we have a better bedrock on which to build than these fearless +champions of liberty?" + +He set an excellent meal before his brother-in-law, and himself ate and +drank heartily, unfolding his very table-napkin with a kind of relish. +In lunching, he inquired the object of Mahony's journey to town. At the +mention of Henry Ocock's name he raised his eyebrows and pursed his +lips. + +"Ah, indeed! Then it is hardly necessary to ask the upshot." + +He pooh-poohed Mahony's intention of staying till the defaulting +witness was found; disapproved, too, the offer of a reward. "To be paid +out of YOUR pocket, of course! No, my dear Mahony, set your mind at +rest and return to your wife. Lads of that sort never come to +grief--more's the pity! By the bye, how IS Polly, and how does she like +life on the diggings?" + +In this connection, Mahony tendered congratulations on the expected +addition to Turnham's family. John embarked readily enough on the theme +of his beautiful wife; but into his voice, as he talked, came a note of +impatience or annoyance, which formed an odd contrast to his wonted +self-possession. "Yes... her third, and for some reason which I cannot +fathom, it threatens to prove the most trying of any." And here he went +into medical detail on Mrs. Emma's state. + +Mahony urged compliance with the whims of the mother-to-be, even should +they seem extravagant. "Believe me, at a time like this such moods and +caprices have their use. Nature very well knows what she is about." + +"Nature? Bah! I am no great believer in nature," gave back John, and +emptied his glass of madeira. "Nature exists to be coerced and +improved." + +They parted; and Mahony went back to twirl his thumbs in the hotel +coffee-room. He could not persuade himself to take Turnham's advice and +leave Johnny to his fate. And the delay was nearly over. At dawn next +morning Johnny was found lying in a pitiable condition at the door of +the hotel. It took Mahony the best part of the day to rouse him; to +make him understand he was not to be horsewhipped; to purchase a fresh +suit of clothing for him: to get him, in short, halfway ready to travel +the following day--a blear-eyed, weak-witted craven, who fell into a +cold sweat at every bump of the coach. Not till they reached the end of +the awful journey--even a Chinaman rose to impudence about Johnny's +nerves, his foul breath, his cracked lips--did Mahony learn how the +wretched boy had come by the money for his debauch. At the public-house +where the coach drew up, old Ocock stood grimly waiting, with a leather +thong at his belt, and the news that his till had been broken open and +robbed of its contents. With an involuntary recommendation to mercy, +Mahony handed over the culprit and turned his steps home. + +Polly stood on tip-toe to kiss him; Pompey barked till the roof rang, +making leaps that fell wide of the mark; the cat hoisted its tail, and +wound purring in and out between his legs. Tea was spread, on a clean +cloth, with all sorts of good things to eat; an English mail had +brought him a batch of letters and journals. Altogether it was a very +happy home-coming. + +When he had had a sponge-down and finished tea, over which he listened, +with a zest that surprised him, to a hundred and one domestic details: +afterwards he and Polly strolled arm-in-arm to the top of the little +hill to which, before marriage, he used to carry her letters. Here they +sat and talked till night fell; and, for the first time, Mahony tasted +the dregless pleasure of coming back from the world outside with his +toll of adventure, and being met by a woman's lively and disinterested +sympathy. Agreeable incidents gained, those that were the reverse of +pleasing lost their sting by being shared with Polly. Not that he told +her everything; of the dark side of life he greatly preferred little +Polly to remain ignorant. Still, as far as it went, it was a delightful +experience. In return he confessed to her something of the uncertainty +that had beset him, on hearing his opponent's counsel state the case +for the other side. It was disquieting to think he might be suspected +of advancing a claim that was not strictly just. + +"Suspected? ... YOU? Oh, how could anybody be so silly!" + +For all the fatigues of his day Mahony could not sleep. And after +tossing and tumbling for some time, he rose, threw on his clothing and +went out to smoke a pipe in front of the store. Various worries were +pecking at him--the hint he had given Polly of their existence seemed +to have let them fairly loose upon him. Of course he would be--he +was--suspected of having connived at the imposture by which his suit +was won--why else have put it in the hands of such a one as Ocock? John +Turnham's soundless whistle of astonishment recurred to him, and +flicked him. Imagine it! He, Richard Mahony, giving his sanction to +these queasy tricks! + +It was bad enough to know that Ocock at any rate had believed him not +averse from winning by unjust means. Yet, on the whole, he thought this +mortified him less than to feel that he had been written down a Simple +Simon, whom it was easy to impose on. Ah well! At best he had been but +a kind of guy, set up for them to let off their verbal fireworks round. +Faith and that was all these lawyer-fellows wanted--the ghost of an +excuse for parading their skill. Justice played a negligible role in +this battle of wits; else not he but the plaintiff would have come out +victorious. That wretched Bolliver! ... the memory of him wincing and +flushing in the witness-box would haunt him for the rest of his days. +He could see him, too, with equal clearness, broken-heartedly slitting +the gizzards of his, pets. A poor old derelict--the amen to a life +which, like most lives, had once been flush with promise. And it had +been his Mahony's., honourable portion to give the last kick, the +ultimate shove into perdition. Why, he would rather have lost the money +ten times over! + +To divert his mind, he began next morning to make an inventory of the +goods in the store. It was high time, too: thanks to the recent +disturbances he did not know where he stood. And while he was about it, +he gave the place a general clean-up. A job of this kind was a powerful +ally in keeping edged thoughts at bay. He and his men had their hands +full for several days, Polly, who was not allowed to set foot in the +store, peeping critically in at them to see how they progressed. And, +after business hours, there was little Polly herself. + +He loved to contemplate her. + +Six months of married life had worked certain changes in his black-eyed +slip of a girl; but something of the doe-like shyness that had caught +his fancy still clung to her. With strangers she could even yet be +touchingly bashful. Not long out of short frocks, she found it +difficult to stand upon her dignity as Mrs. Dr. Mahony. Besides, it was +second nature to Polly to efface herself, to steal mousily away. +Unless, of course, some one needed help or was in distress, in which +case she forgot to be shy. To her husband's habits and idiosyncrasies +she had adapted herself implicitly--but this came easy; for she was +sure everything Richard did was right, and that his way of looking at +things was the one and only way. So there was no room for discord +between them. By this time Polly could laugh over the dismay of her +first homecoming: the pitch-dark night and unfamiliar road, the racket +of the serenade, the apparition of the great spider: now, all this +might have happened to somebody else, not Polly Mahony. Her dislike of +things that creep and crawl was, it is true, inborn, and persisted; but +nowadays if one of the many "triantelopes" that infested the roof +showed its hairy legs, she had only to call Hempel, and out the latter +would pop with a broomstick, to do away with the creature. If a +scorpion or a centipede wriggled from under a log, the cry of "Tom!" +would bring the idle lad next door double-quick over the fence. Polly +had learnt not to summon her husband on these occasions; for Richard +held to the maxim: "Live and let live." If at night a tarantula +appeared on the bedroom-wall, he caught it in a covered glass and +carried it outside: "Just to come in again," was her rueful reflection. +But indeed Polly was surrounded by willing helpers. And small wonder, +thought Mahony. Her young nerves were so sound that Hempel's dry cough +never grated them: she doctored him and fussed over him, and was +worried that she could not cure him. She met Long Jim's grumbles with a +sunny face, and listened patiently to his forebodings that he would +never see "home" or his old woman again. She even brought out a clumsy +good-will in the young varmint Tom; nor did his old father's want of +refinement repel her. + +"But, Richard, he's such a kind old man," she met her husband's +admission of this stumbling-block. "And it isn't his fault that he +wasn't properly educated. He has had to work for his living ever since +he was twelve years old." + +And Mr. Ocock cried quits by remarking confidentially: "That little +lady o' yours 'as got 'er 'eadpiece screwed on the right way. It beats +me, doc., why you don't take 'er inter the store and learn 'er the +bizness. No offence, I'm sure," he made haste to add, disconcerted by +Mahony's cold stare. + +Had anyone at this date tried to tell Polly she lived in a mean, rough +home, he would have had a poor reception. Polly was long since certain +that not a house on the diggings could compare with theirs. This was a +trait Mahony loved in her--her sterling loyalty; a loyalty that +embraced not only her dear ones themselves, but every stick and stone +belonging to them. His discovery of it helped him to understand her +allegiance to her own multicoloured family: in the beginning he had +almost doubted its sincerity. Now, he knew her better. It was just as +though a sixth sense had been implanted in Polly, enabling her to +pierce straight through John's self-sufficiency or Ned's vapourings, to +the real kernel of goodness that no doubt lay hid below. He himself +could not get at it; but then his powers of divination were the exact +opposite of Polly's. He was always struck by the weak or ridiculous +side of a person, and had to dig laboriously down to the virtues. While +his young wife, by a kind of genius, saw the good at a glance--and saw +nothing else. And she did not stint with her gift, or hoard it up +solely for use on her own kith and kin. Her splendid sympathy was the +reverse of clannish; it was applied to every mortal who crossed her +path. + +Yes, for all her youth, Polly had quite a character of her own; and +even thus early her husband sometimes ran up against a certain native +sturdiness of opinion. But this did not displease him; on the contrary, +he would have thanked you for a wife who was only an echo of himself. +To take the case of the animals. He had a profound respect for those +creatures to which speech has been denied; and he treated the +four-footers that dwelt under his roof as his fellows, humanising them, +reading his own thoughts into them, and showing more consideration for +their feelings than if they had been able to speak up for themselves. +Polly saw this in the light of an exquisite joke. She was always kind +to Pompey and the stately Palmerston, and would as soon have forgotten +to set Richard's dinner before him as to feed the pair; but they +remained "the dog" and "the cat" to her, and, if they had enough to +eat, and received neither kicks nor blows, she could not conceive of +their souls asking more. It went beyond her to study the cat's dislike +to being turned off its favourite chair, or to believe that the dog did +not make dirty prints on her fresh scrubbed floor out of malice +prepense; it was also incredible that he should have doggy fits of +depression, in which up he must to stick a cold, slobbery snout into a +warm human hand. And when Richard tried to conciliate Palmerston +stalking sulky to the door, or to pet away the melancholy in the +rejected Pompey's eyes, Polly had to lay down her sewing and laugh at +her husband, so greatly did his behaviour amuse her. + +Again, there was the question of literature. Books to Mahony were +almost as necessary as bread; to his girl-wife, on the other hand, they +seemed a somewhat needless luxury--less vital by far than the animals +that walked the floor. She took great care of the precious volumes +Richard had had carted up from Melbourne; but the cost of the transport +was what impressed her most. It was not an overstatement, thought +Mahony, to say that a stack of well-chopped, neatly piled wood meant +more to Polly than all the books ever written. Not that she did not +enjoy a good story: her work done, she liked few things better; and he +often smiled at the ease with which she lived herself into the world of +make-believe, knowing, of course, that it WAS make-believe and just a +kind of humbug. But poetry, and the higher fiction! Little Polly's +professed love for poetry had been merely a concession to the +conventional idea of girlhood; or, at best, such a burning wish to be +all her Richard desired, that, at the moment, she was convinced of the +truth of what she said. But did he read to her from his favourite +authors her attention WOULD wander, in spite of the efforts she made to +pin it down. + +Mahony declaimed: + +'TIS THE SUNSET OF LIFE GIVES US MYSTICAL LORE, + +AND COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE, + +and his pleasure in the swing of the couplet was such that he repeated +it. + +Polly wakened with a start. Her thoughts had been miles away--had been +back at the "Family Hotel". There Purdy, after several adventures, his +poor leg a mass of supuration, had at length betaken himself, to be +looked after by his Tilly; and Polly's hopes were all alight again. + +She blushed guiltily at the repetition, and asked her husband to say +the lines once again. He did so. + +"But they don't really, Richard, do they?" she said in an apologetic +tone--she referred to the casting of shadows. "It would be so useful if +they did--" and she drew a sigh at Purdy's dilatory treatment of the +girl who loved him so well. + +"Oh, you prosaic little woman!" cried Mahony, and laid down his book to +kiss her. It was impossible to be vexed with Polly: she was so honest, +so transparent. "Did you never hear of a certain something called +poetic licence?" + +No: Polly was more or less familiar with various other forms of +licence, from the gold-diggers' that had caused all the fuss, down to +the special licence by which she had been married; but this particular +one had not come her way. And on Richard explaining to her the liberty +poets allowed themselves, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and +was sorry to think he approved. It seemed to her just a fine name for +wanton exaggeration--if not something worse. + +There were also those long evenings they spent over the first hundred +pages of WAVERLEY. Mahony, eager for her to share his enthusiasm, +comforted her each night anew that they would soon reach the story +proper, and then, how interested she would be! But the opening chapters +were a sandy desert of words, all about people duller than any Polly +had known alive; and sometimes, before the book was brought out, she +would heave a secret sigh--although, of course, she enjoyed sitting +cosily together with Richard, watching him and listening to his voice. +But they might have put their time to a pleasanter use: by talking of +themselves, or their friends, or how further to improve their home, or +what the store was doing. + +Mahony saw her smiling to herself one evening; and after assuring +himself that there was nothing on the page before him to call that +pleased look to her young face, he laid the book down and offered her a +penny for her thoughts. But Polly was loath to confess to +wool-gathering. + +"I haven't succeeded in interesting you, have I, Pollikins?" + +She made haste to contradict him. Oh, it was very nice, and she loved +to hear him read. + +"Come, honestly now, little woman!" + +She faced him squarely at that, though with pink cheeks. "Well, not +much, Richard." + +He took her on his knee. "And what were you smiling at?" + +"Me? Oh, I was just thinking of something that happened yesterday"--and +Polly sat up, agog to tell. + +It appeared that the day before, while he was out, the digger's wife +who did Polly's rough work for her had rushed in, crying that her +youngest was choking. Bonnetless, Polly had flown across to the woman's +hut. There she discovered the child, a fat youngster of a year or so, +purple in the face, with a button wedged in its throat. Taking it by +the heels she shook the child vigorously, upside-down; and, lo and +behold! this had the opposite effect to what she intended. When they +straightened the child out again the button was found to have passed +the danger-point and gone down. Quickly resolved, Polly cut slice on +slice of thin bread-and-butter, and with this she and Mrs. Hemmerde +stuffed the willing babe till, full to bursting, it warded them off +with its tiny hands. + +Mahony laughed heartily at the tale, and applauded his wife's prompt +measures. "Short of the forceps nothing could have been better!" + +Yes, Polly had a dash of native shrewdness, which he prized. And a pair +of clever hands that were never idle. He had given her leave to make +any changes she chose in the house, and she was for ever stitching away +at white muslin, or tacking it over pink calico. These affairs made +their little home very spick and span, and kept Polly from feeling +dull--if one could imagine Polly dull! With the cooking alone had there +been a hitch in the beginning. Like a true expert Mrs. Beamish had not +tolerated understudies: none but the lowliest jobs, such as +raisin-stoning or potato-peeling, had fallen to the three girls' share: +and in face of her first fowl Polly stood helpless and dismayed. But +not for long. Sarah was applied to for the best cookery-book on sale in +Melbourne, and when this arrived, Polly gave herself up to the study of +it. She had many failures, both private and avowed. With the worst, she +either retired behind the woodstack, or Tom disposed of them for her, +or the dog ate them up. But she persevered: and soon Mahony could with +truth declare that no one raised a better loaf or had a lighter hand at +pastry than his wife. + +Three knocks on the wooden partition was the signal which, if he were +not serving a customer, summoned him to the kitchen. + +"Oh, Richard, it's ripen beautifully!" And, red with heat and pride, +Polly drew a great golden-crusted, blown-up sponge-cake along the oven +shelf. Richard, who had a sweet tooth, pretended to be unable to curb +his impatience. + +"Wait! First I must see ..." and she plunged a knife into the cake's +heart: it came out untarnished. "Yes, it's done to a turn." + +There and then it was cut; for, said Mahony, that was the only way in +which he could make sure of a piece. Afterwards chunks were dealt out +to every one Polly knew--to Long Jim, Hempel, Tommy Ocock, the little +Hemmerdes. Side by side on the kitchen-table, their feet dangling in +the air, husband and wife sat boy-and-girl fashion and munched hot +cake, till their appetites for dinner were wrecked. + +But the rains that heralded winter--and they set in early that +year--had not begun to fall when more serious matters claimed Mahony's +attention. + + + + +Chapter IV + +It was an odd and inexplicable thing that business showed no sign of +improving. Affairs on Ballarat had, for months past, run their usual +prosperous course. The western township grew from day to day, and was +straggling right out to the banks of the great swamp. On the Flat, the +deep sinking that was at present the rule--some parties actually +touched a depth of three hundred feet before bottoming--had brought a +fresh host of fortune-hunters to the spot, and the results obtained bid +fair to rival those of the first golden year. The diggers' grievances +and their conflict with the government were now a turned page. At a +state trial all prisoners had been acquitted, and a general amnesty +declared for those rebels who were still at large. Unpopular ministers +had resigned or died; a new constitution for the colony awaited the +Royal assent; and pending this, two of the rebel-leaders, now prominent +townsmen, were chosen to sit in the Legislative Council. The future +could not have looked rosier. For others, that was. For him, Mahony, it +held more than one element of uncertainty. + +At no time had he come near making a fortune out of storekeeping. For +one thing, he had been too squeamish. From the outset he had declined +to soil his hands with surreptitious grog-selling; nor would he be a +party to that evasion of the law which consisted in overcharging on +other goods, and throwing in drinks free. Again, he would rather have +been hamstrung than stoop to the tricks in vogue with regard to the +weighing of gold-dust: the greased scales, the wet sponge, false beams, +and so on. Accordingly, he had a clearer conscience than the majority +and a lighter till. But even at the legitimate ABC of business he had +proved a duffer. He had never, for instance, learned to be a really +skilled hand at stocking a shop. Was an out-of-the-way article called +for, ten to one he had run short of it; and the born shopman's knack of +palming off or persuading to a makeshift was not his. Such goods as he +had, he did not press on people; his attitude was always that of "take +it or leave it"; and he sometimes surprised a ridiculous feeling of +satisfaction when he chased a drunken and insolent customer off the +premises, or secured an hour's leisure unbroken by the jangle of the +store-bell. + +Still, in spite of everything he had, till recently, done well enough. +Money was loose, and the diggers, if given long credit when down on +their luck, were in the main to be relied on to pay up when they struck +the lead or tapped a pocket. He had had slack seasons before now, and +things had always come right again. This made it hard for him to +explain the present prolonged spell of dullness. + +That there was something more than ordinarily wrong first dawned on him +during the stock-taking in summer. Hempel and he were constantly coming +upon goods that had been too long on hand, and were now fit only to be +thrown away. Half-a-dozen boxes of currants showed a respectable growth +of mould; a like fate had come upon some flitches of bacon; and not a +bag of flour but had developed a species of minute maggot. Rats had got +at his coils of rope, one of which, sold in all good faith, had gone +near causing the death of the digger who used it. The remains of some +smoked fish were brought back and flung at his head with a shower of +curses, by a woman who had fallen ill through eating of it. And yet, in +spite of the replenishing this involved, the order he sent to town that +season was the smallest he had ever given. For the first time he could +not fill a dray, but had to share one with a greenhorn, who, if you +please, was setting up at his very door. + +He and Hempel cracked their brains to account for the falling-off--or +at least he did: afterwards he believed Hempel had suspected the truth +and been too mealy-mouthed to speak out. It was Polly who +innocently--for of course he did not draw her into confidence--Polly +supplied the clue from a piece of gossip brought to the house by the +woman Hemmerde. It appeared that, at the time of the rebellion, +Mahony's open antagonism to the Reform League had given offence all +round--to the extremists as well as to the more wary on whose behalf +the League was drafted. They now got even with him by taking their +custom elsewhere. He snorted with indignation on hearing of it; then +laughed ironically. He was expected, was he, not only to bring his +personal tastes and habits into line with those of the majority, but to +deny his politics as well? And if he refused, they would make it hard +for him to earn a decent living in their midst. Nothing seemed easier +to these unprincipled democrats than for a man to cut his coat to suit +his job. Why, he might just as well turn Whig and be done with it! + +He sat over his account-books. The pages were black with bad debts for +"tucker." Here however was no mystery. The owners of these names--Purdy +was among them--had without doubt been implicated in the Eureka riot, +and had made off and never returned. He struck a balance, and found to +his consternation that, unless business took a turn for the better, he +would not be able to hold out beyond the end of the year. Afterwards, +he was blessed if he knew what was going to happen. The ingenious +Hempel was full of ideas for tempting back fortune--opening a branch +store on a new lead was one of them, or removing bodily to Main +Street--but ready money was the SINE QUA NON of such schemes, and ready +money he had not got. Since his marriage he had put by as good as +nothing; and the enlarging and improving of his house, at that time, +had made a big hole in his bachelor savings. He did not feel justified +at the present pass in drawing on them anew. For one thing, before +summer was out there would be, if all went well, another mouth to feed. +And that meant a variety of seen and unforeseen expenses. + +Such were the material anxieties he had to encounter in the course of +that winter. Below the surface a subtler embarrassment worked to +destroy his peace. In face of the shortage of money, he was obliged to +thank his stars that he had not lost the miserable lawsuit of a few +months back. Had that happened, he wouldn't at present have known where +to turn. But this amounted to confessing his satisfaction at having +pulled off his case, pulled it off anyhow, by no matter what crooked +means. And as if this were not enough, the last words he had heard +Purdy say came back to sting him anew. The boy had accused him of +judging a fight for freedom from a tradesman's standpoint. Now it might +be said of him that he was viewing justice from the same angle. He had +scorned the idea of distorting his political opinions to fit the trade +by which he gained his bread. But it was a far more serious thing if +his principles, his character, his sense of equity were all to be +undermined as well. If he stayed here, he would end by becoming as +blunt to what was right and fair as the rest of them. As it was, he was +no longer able to regard the two great landmarks of man's moral +development--liberty and justice--from the point of view of an honest +man and a gentleman. + +His self-annoyance was so great that it galvanised him to action. There +and then he made up his mind: as soon as the child that was coming to +them was old enough to travel, he would sell out for what he could get, +and go back to the old country. Once upon a time he had hoped, when he +went, to take a good round sum with him towards a first-rate English +practice. Now he saw that this scheme had been a kind of +Jack-o'-lantern--a marsh-light after which he might have danced for +years to come. As matters stood, he must needs be content if, the +passage-moneys paid, he could scrape together enough to keep him afloat +till he found a modest corner to slip into. + +His first impulse was to say nothing of this to his wife in the +meantime. Why unsettle her? But he had reckoned without the sudden +upward leap his spirits made, once his decision was taken: the winter +sky was blue as violets again above him; he turned out light-heartedly +of a morning. It was impossible to hide the change in his mood from +Polly--even if he had felt it fair to do so. Another thing: when he +came to study Polly by the light of his new plan, he saw that his +scruples about unsettling her were fanciful--wraiths of his own +imagining. As a matter of fact, the sooner he broke the news to her the +better. Little Polly was so thoroughly happy here that she would need +time to accustom herself to the prospect of life elsewhere. + +He went about it very cautiously though; and with no hint of the sour +and sorry incidents that had driven him to the step. As was only +natural, Polly was rather easily upset at present: the very evening +before, he had had occasion to blame himself for his tactless behaviour. + +In her first sick young fear Polly had impulsively written off to +Mother Beamish, to claim the fulfilment of that good woman's promise to +stand by her when her time came. One letter gave another; Mrs. Beamish +not only announced that she would hold herself ready to support her +"little duck" at a moment's notice, but filled sheets with sage advice +and old wives' maxims; and the correspondence, which had languished, +flared up anew. Now came an ill-scrawled, misspelt epistle from +Tilly--doleful, too, for Purdy had once more quitted her without +speaking the binding word--in which she told that Purdy's leg, though +healed, was permanently shortened; the doctor in Geelong said he would +never walk straight again. + +Husband and wife sat and discussed the news, wondered how lameness +would affect Purdy's future and what he was doing now, Tilly not having +mentioned his whereabouts. "She has probably no more idea than we +have," said Mahony. + +"I'm afraid not," said Polly with a sigh. "Well, I hope he won't come +back here, that's all"; and she considered the seam she was sewing, +with an absent air. + +"Why, love? Don't you like old Dickybird?" asked Mahony in no small +surprise. + +"Oh yes, quite well. But..." + +"Is it because he still can't make up his mind to take your Tilly--eh?" + +"That, too. But chiefly because of something he said." + +"And what was that, my dear?" + +"Oh, very silly," and Polly smiled. + +"Out with it, madam! Or I shall suspect the young dog of having made +advances to my wife." + +"Richard, DEAR!" Little Polly thought he was in earnest, and grew +exceedingly confused. "Oh no, nothing like that," she assured him, and +with red cheeks rushed into an explanation. "He only said, in spite of +you being such old friends he felt you didn't really care to have him +here on Ballarat. After a time you always invented some excuse to get +him away." But now that it was out, Polly felt the need of toning down +the statement, and added: "I shouldn't wonder if he was silly enough to +think you were envious of him, for having so many friends and being +liked by all sorts of people." + +"Envious of him? I? Who on earth has been putting such ideas into your +head?" cried Mahony. + +"It was 'mother' thought so--it was while I was still there," stammered +Polly, still more fluttered by the fact of him fastening on just these +words. + +Mahony tried to quell his irritation by fidgeting round the room. +"Surely, Polly, you might give up calling that woman 'mother,' now you +belong to me--I thank you for the relationship!" he said testily. And +having with much unnecessary ado knocked the ashes out of his pipe, he +went on: "It's bad enough to say things of that kind; but to repeat +them, love, is in even poorer taste." + +"Yes, Richard," said Polly meekly. + +But her amazed inner query was: "Not even to one's own husband?" + +She hung her head, till the white thread of parting between the dark +loops of her hair was almost perpendicular. She had spoken without +thinking in the first place--had just blurted out a passing thought. +But even when forced to explain, she had never dreamt of Richard taking +offence. Rather she had imagined the two of them--two banded lovingly +against one--making merry together over Purdy's nonsense. She had heard +her husband laugh away much unkinder remarks than this. And perhaps if +she had stopped there, and said no more, it might have been all right. +By her stupid attempt to gloss things over, she had really managed to +hurt him, and had made him think her gossipy into the bargain. + +She went on with her sewing. But when Mahony came back from the brisk +walk by means of which he got rid of his annoyance, he fancied, though +Polly was as cheery as ever and had supper laid for him, that her +eyelids were red. + +This was why, the following evening, he promised himself to be discreet. + +Winter had come in earnest; the night was wild and cold. Before the +crackling stove the cat lay stretched at full length, while Pompey +dozed fitfully, his nose between his paws. The red-cotton curtains that +hung at the little window gave back the lamplight in a ruddy glow; the +clock beat off the seconds evenly, except when drowned by the wind, +which came in bouts, hurling itself against the corners of the house. +And presently, laying down his book--Polly was too busy now to be read +to--Mahony looked across at his wife. She was wrinkling her pretty +brows over the manufacture of tiny clothes, a rather pale little woman +still, none of the initial discomforts of her condition having been +spared her. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up and smiled: did ever +anyone see such a ridiculous armhole? Three of one's fingers were +enough to fill it--and she held the little shirt aloft for his +inspection. Here was his chance: the child's coming offered the best of +pretexts. Taking not only the midget garment but also the hand that +held it, he told her of his resolve to go back to England and re-enter +his profession. + +"You know, love, I've always wished to get home again. And now there's +an additional reason. I don't want my ... our children to grow up in a +place like this. Without companions--or refining influences. Who knows +how they would turn out?" + +He said it, but in his heart he knew that his children would be safe +enough. And Polly, listening to him, made the same reservation: yes, +but OUR children.... + +"And so I propose, as soon as the youngster's old enough to travel, to +haul down the flag for good and all, and book passages for the three of +us in some smart clipper. We'll live in the country, love. Think of it, +Polly! A little gabled, red-roofed house at the foot of some Sussex +down, with fruit trees and a high hedge round it, and only the +oast-houses peeping over. Doesn't it make your mouth water, my dear?" + +He had risen in his eagerness, and stood with his back to the stove, +his legs apart. And Polly nodded and smiled up at him--though, truth to +tell, the picture he drew did not mean much to her: she had never been +in Sussex, nor did she know what an oast-house was. A night such as +this, with flying clouds and a shrill, piping wind, made her think of +angry seas and a dark ship's cabin, in which she lay deathly sick. But +it was not Polly's way to dwell on disagreeables: her mind glanced off +to a pleasanter theme. + +"Have you ever thought, Richard, how strange it will seem when there +ARE three of us? You and I will never be quite alone together again. +Oh, I do hope he will be a good baby and not cry much. It will worry +you if he does--like Hempel's cough. And then you won't love him +properly." + +"I shall love it because it is yours, my darling. And the baby of such +a dear little mother is sure to be good." + +"Oh, babies will be babies, you know!" said Polly, with a new air of +wisdom which sat delightfully on her. + +Mahony pinched her cheek. "Mrs. Mahony, you're shirking my question. +Tell me now, should you not be pleased to get back to England?" + +"I'll go wherever you go, Richard," said Polly staunchly. "Always. And +of course I should like to see mother--I mean my real mother--again. +But then Ned's here ... and John, and Sarah. I should be very sorry to +leave them. I don't think any of them will ever go home now." + +"They may be here, but they don't trouble YOU often, my dear," said +Mahony, with more than a hint of impatience. "Especially Ned the +well-beloved, who lives not a mile from your door." + +"I know he doesn't often come to see us, Richard. But he's only a boy; +and has to work so hard. You see it's like this. If Ned should get into +any trouble, I'm here to look after him; and I know that makes mother's +mind easier--Ned was always her favourite." + +"And an extraordinary thing, too! I believe it's the boy's good looks +that blind you women to his faults." + +"Oh no, indeed it isn't!" declared Polly warmly. "It's just because +Ned's Ned. The dearest fellow, if you really know him." + +"And so your heart's anchored here, little wife, and would remain here +even if I carried your body off to England?" + +"Oh no, Richard," said Polly again. "My heart would always be where you +are. But I can't help wondering how Ned would get on alone. And Jerry +will soon be here too, now, and he's younger still. And HOW I should +like to see dear Tilly settled before I go!" + +Judging that enough had been said for the time being, Mahony re-opened +his book, leaving his wife to chew the cud of innocent matchmaking and +sisterly cares. + +In reality Polly's reflections were of quite another nature. + +Her husband's abrupt resolve to leave the colony, disturbing though it +was, did not take her altogether by surprise. She would have needed to +be both deaf and blind not to notice that the store-bell rang much +seldomer than it used to, and that Richard had more spare time on his +hands. Yes, trade was dull, and that made him fidgety. Now she had +always known that someday it would be her duty to follow Richard to +England. But she had imagined that day to be very far off--when they +were elderly people, and had saved up a good deal of money. To hear the +date fixed for six months hence was something of a shock to her. And it +was at this point that Polly had a sudden inspiration. As she listened +to Richard talking of resuming his profession, the thought flashed +through her mind: why not here? Why should he not start practice in +Ballarat, instead of travelling all those thousands of miles to do it? + +This was what she ruminated while she tucked and hemmed. She could +imagine, of course, what his answer would be. He would say there were +too many doctors on Ballarat already; not more than a dozen of them +made satisfactory incomes. But this argument did not convince Polly. +Richard wasn't, perhaps, a great success at storekeeping; but that was +only because he was too good for it. As a doctor, he with his +cleverness and gentlemanly manners would soon, she was certain, stand +head and shoulders above the rest. And then there would be money +galore. It was true he did not care for Ballarat--was down on both +place and people. But this objection, too, Polly waived. It passed +belief that anybody could really dislike this big, rich, bustling, +go-ahead township, where such handsome buildings were springing up and +every one was so friendly. In her heart she ascribed her husband's want +of love for it to the "infra dig" position he occupied. If he mixed +with his equals again and got rid of the feeling that he was looked +down on, it would make all the difference in the world to him. He would +then be out of reach of snubs and slights, and people would understand +him better--not the residents on Ballarat alone, but also John, and +Sarah, and the Beamishes, none of whom really appreciated Richard. In +her mind's eye Polly had a vision of him going his rounds mounted on a +chestnut horse, dressed in surtout and choker, and hand and glove with +the bigwigs of society--the gentlemen at the Camp, the Police +Magistrate and Archdeacon Long, the rich squatters who lived at the +foot of Mount Buninyong. It brought the colour to her cheeks merely to +think of it. + +She did not, however, breathe a word of this to Richard. She was a +shade wiser than the night before, when she had vexed him by blurting +out her thoughts. And the present was not the right time to speak. In +these days Richard was under the impression that she needed to be +humoured. He might agree with her against his better judgment, or, +worse still, pretend to agree. And Polly didn't want that. She wished +fairly to persuade him that, by setting up here on the diggings where +he was known and respected, he would get on quicker, and make more +money, than if he buried himself in some poky English village where no +one had ever heard of him. + +Meanwhile the unconscious centre of her ambitions wore a perplexed +frown. Mahony was much exercised just now over the question of medical +attendance for Polly. The thought of coming into personal contact with +a member of the fraternity was distasteful to him; none of them had an +inkling who or what he was. And, though piqued by their +unsuspectingness, he at the same time feared lest it should not be +absolute, and he have the ill-luck to hit on a practitioner who had +heard of his stray spurts of doctoring and written him down a charlatan +and a quack. For this reason he would call in no one in the immediate +neighbourhood--even the western township seemed too near. Ultimately, +his choice fell on a man named Rogers who hailed from Mount Pleasant, +the rise on the opposite side of the valley and some two miles off. It +was true since he did not intend to disclose his own standing, the +distance would make the fellow's fees mount up. But Rogers was at least +properly qualified (half those claiming the title of physician were +impudent impostors, who didn't know a diploma from the Ten +Commandments), of the same ALMA MATER as himself--not a contemporary, +though, he took good care of that!--and, if report spoke true, a +skilful and careful obstetrician. + +When, however, in response to a note carried by Long Jim Rogers drew +rein in front of the store, Mahony was not greatly impressed by him. He +proved to be a stout, reddish man, some ten years Mahony's senior, with +a hasty-pudding face and an undecided manner. There he sat, his ten +spread finger-tips meeting and gently tapping one another across his +paunch, and nodding: "Just so, just so!" to all he heard. He had the +trick of saying everything twice over. "Needs to clinch his own +opinion!" was Mahony's swift diagnosis. Himself, he kept in the +background. And was he forced to come forward his manner was both stiff +and forbidding, so on tenterhooks was he lest the other should presume +to treat him as anything but the storekeeper he gave himself out to be. + +A day or so later who but the wife must arrive to visit Polly!--a piece +of gratuitous friendliness that could well have been dispensed with; +even though Mahony felt it keenly that, at this juncture, Polly should +lack companions of her own sex. But Rogers had married beneath him, and +the sight of the pursy upstart--there were people on the Flat who +remembered her running barefoot and slatternly--sitting there, in satin +and feathers, lording it over his own little Jenny Wren, was more than +Mahony could tolerate. The distance was put forward as an excuse for +Polly not returning the call, and Polly was docile as usual; though for +her part she had thought her visitor quite a pleasant, kindly woman. +But then Polly never knew when she was being patronised! + +To wipe out any little trace of disappointment, her husband suggested +that she should write and ask one of the Beamish girls to stay with +her: it would keep her from feeling the days long. + +But Polly only laughed. "Long?--when I have so much sewing to do?" + +No, she did not want company. By now, indeed, she regretted having sent +off that impulsive invitation to Mrs. Beamish for the end of the year. +Puzzle as she would, she could not see how she was going to put +"mother" comfortably up. + +Meanwhile the rains were changing the familiar aspect of the place. +Creeks--in summer dry gutters of baked clay--were now rich red rivers; +and the yellow Yarrowee ran full to the brim, keeping those who lived +hard by it in a twitter of anxiety. The steep slopes of Black Hill +showed thinly green; the roads were ploughed troughs of sticky mire. +Occasional night frosts whitened the ground, bringing cloudless days in +their wake. Then down came the rain once more, and fell for a week on +end. The diggers were washed out of their holes, the Flat became an +untraversable bog. And now there were floods in earnest: the creeks +turned to foaming torrents that swept away trees and the old roots of +trees; and the dwellers on the river banks had to fly for their bare +lives. + +Over the top of book or newspaper Mahony watched his wife stitch, +stitch, stitch, with a zeal that never flagged, at the dolly garments. +Just as he could read his way, so Polly sewed hers, through the time of +waiting. But whereas she, like a sensible little woman, pinned her +thoughts fast to the matter in hand, he let his range freely over the +future. Of the many good things this had in store for him, one in +particular whetted his impatience. It took close on a twelvemonth out +here to get hold of a new book. On Ballarat not even a stationer's +existed; nor were there more than a couple of shops in Melbourne itself +that could be relied on to carry out your order. You perforce fell +behind in the race, remained ignorant of what was being said and +done--in science, letters, religious controversy--in the great world +overseas. To this day he didn't know whether Agassiz had or had not +been appointed to the chair of Natural History in Edinburgh; or whether +fresh heresies with regard to the creation of species had spoiled his +chances; did not know whether Hugh Miller had actually gone crazy over +the VESTIGES; or even if those arch-combatants, Syme and Simpson, had +at length sheathed their swords. Now, however, God willing, he would +before very long be back in the thick of it all, in intimate touch with +the doings of the most wide-awake city in Europe; and new books and +pamphlets would come into his possession as they dropped hot from the +press. + + + + +Chapter V + +And then one morning--it was spring now, and piping hot at noon--Long +Jim brought home from the post-office a letter for Polly, addressed in +her sister Sarah's sloping hand. Knowing the pleasure it would give +her, Mahony carried it at once to his wife; and Polly laid aside broom +and duster and sat down to read. + +But he was hardly out of the room when a startled cry drew him back to +her side. Polly had hidden her face, and was shaken by sobs As he could +not get her to speak, Mahony picked up the letter from the floor and +read it for himself. + +Sarah wrote like one distracted. + + +OH, MY DEAR SISTER, HOW CAN I FIND WORDS TO TELL YOU OF THE TRULY +"AWFUL" CALAMITY THAT HAS BEFALLEN OUR UNHAPPY BROTHER. Mahony skipped +the phrases, and learnt that owing to a carriage accident Emma Turnham +had been prematurely confined, and, the best medical aid +notwithstanding--JOHN SPARED ABSOLUTELY "NO" EXPENSE--had died two days +later. JOHN IS LIKE A MADMAN. DIRECTLY I HEARD THE "SHOCKING" NEWS, I +AT ONCE THREW UP MY ENGAGEMENT--AT "SERIOUS" LOSS TO MYSELF, BUT THAT +IS A MATTER OF SMALL CONSEQUENCE--AND CAME TO TAKE MY PLACE BESIDE OUR +POOR DEAR BROTHER IN HIS GREAT TRIAL. BUT ALL MY EFFORTS TO BRING HIM +TO A PROPER AND "CHRISTIAN" FRAME OF MIND HAVE BEEN FRUITLESS. I AM +INDEED ALARMED TO BE ALONE WITH HIM, AND I TREMBLE FOR THE CHILDREN, +FOR HE IS POSSESSED OF AN "INSANE" HATRED FOR THE SWEET LITTLE LOVES. +HE HAS LOCKED HIMSELF IN HIS ROOM, WILL SEE "NO ONE" NOR TOUCH A +"PARTICLE" OF NOURISHMENT. DO, MY DEAREST POLLY, COME AT ONCE ON +RECEIPT OF THIS, AND HELP ME IN THE "TRULY AWFUL" TASK THAT HAS BEEN +LAID UPON ME. AND PRAY FORGIVE ME FOR USING THIS PLAIN PAPER. I HAVE +HAD LITERALLY NO TIME TO ORDER MOURNING "OF ANY KIND." + + +So that was Sarah! With a click of the tongue Mahony tossed the letter +on the table, and made it clear to Polly that under no consideration +would he allow her to attempt the journey to town. Her relatives seemed +utterly to have forgotten her condition; if, indeed., they had ever +grasped the fact that she was expecting a child. + +But Polly did not heed him. "Oh, poor, poor Emma! Oh, poor dear John!" +Her husband could only soothe her by promising to go to Sarah's +assistance himself, the following day. + +They had been entirely in the dark about things. For John Turnham +thought proper to erect a jealous wall about his family life. What went +on behind it was nobody's business but his own. You felt yourself--were +meant to feel yourself--the alien, the outsider. And Mahony marvelled +once more at the wealth of love and sympathy his little Polly had kept +fresh for these two, who had wasted so few of their thoughts on her. + +Polly dried her eyes; he packed his carpet-bag. He did this with a good +deal of pother, pulling open the wrong drawers, tumbling up their +contents and generally making havoc of his wife's arrangements. But the +sight of his clumsiness acted as a kind of tonic on Polly: she liked to +feel that he was dependent on her for his material comfort and +well-being. + +They spoke of John's brief married life. + +"He loved her like a pagan, my dear," said Mahony. "And if what your +sister Sarah writes is not exaggerated, he is bearing his punishment in +a truly pagan way." + +"But you won't say that to him, dear Richard ... will you? You'll be +very gentle with him?" pleaded Polly anxiously. + +"Indeed I shall, little woman. But one can't help thinking these +things, all the same. You know it is written: 'Thou shalt have none +other gods but Me.'" + +"Yes, I know. But then this was JUST Emma ... and she was so pretty and +so good"--and Polly cried anew. + +Mahony rose before dawn to catch the coach. Together with a packet of +sandwiches, Polly brought him a small black mantle. + +"For Sarah, with my dear love. You see, Richard, I know she always +wears coloured dresses. And she will feel so much happier if she has +SOMETHING black to put on." Little Polly's voice was deep with +persuasion. Richard was none too well pleased, she could see, at having +to unlock his bag again; she feared too, that, after the letter of the +day before, his opinion of Sarah had gone down to zero. + +Mahony secured a corner seat; and so, though his knees interlocked with +those of his VIS-A-VIS, only one of the eight inside passengers was +jammed against him. The coach started; and the long, dull hours of the +journey began to wear away. Nothing broke the monotony but speculations +whether the driver--a noted tippler--would be drunk before Melbourne +was reached and capsize them; and the drawling voice of a Yankee +prospector, who told lying tales about his exploits in California in +'48 until, having talked his hearers to sleep, he dropped off himself. +Then, Mahony fell to reflecting on what lay before him. He didn't like +the job. He was not one of your born good Samaritans: he relished +intruding as little as being intruded on. Besides, morally to sustain, +to forbear with, a fellow-creature in misfortune, seemed to him as +difficult and thankless a task as any required of one. Infinite tact +was essential, and a skin thick enough to stand snubs and rebuffs. But +here he smiled. "Or my little wife's inability to recognise them!" + +House and garden had lost their air of well-groomed smartness: the gate +stood ajar, the gravel was unraked, the verandah-flooring black with +footmarks. With all the blinds still down, the windows looked like so +many dead eyes. Mahony's first knock brought no response; at his +second, the door was opened by Sarah Turnham herself. But a very +different Sarah this, from the elegant and sprightly young person who +had graced his wedding. Her chignon was loose, her dress dishevelled. +On recognising Mahony, she uttered a cry and fell on his neck--he had +to disengage her arms by force and speak severely to her, declaring +that he would go away again, if she carried out her intention of +swooning. + +At last he got her round so far that she could tell her tale, which she +did with a hysterical overstatement. She had, it seemed, arrived there +just before her sister-in-law died. John was quarrelling furiously with +all three doctors, and, before the end, insulted the only one who was +left in such a fashion that he, too, marched out of the house. They had +to get the dead woman measured, coffined and taken away by stealth. +Whereupon John had locked himself up in his room, and had not been seen +since. He had a loaded revolver with him; through the closed door he +had threatened to shoot both her and the children. The servants had +deserted, panic-stricken at their master's behaviour, at the sudden +collapse of the well-regulated household: the last, a nurse-girl sent +out on an errand some hours previously, had not returned. Sarah was at +her wits' end to know what to do with the children--he might hear them +screaming at this moment. + +Mahony, in no hesitancy now how to deal with the situation, laid his +hat aside and drew off his gloves. "Prepare some food," he said +briefly. "A glass of port and a sandwich or two, if you can manage +nothing else--but meat of some kind." + +But there was not a morsel of meat in the house. + +"Then go to the butcher's and buy some." + +Sarah gasped, and bridled. She had never in her life been inside a +butcher's shop! + +"Good God, woman, then the sooner you make the beginning the better!" +cried Mahony. And as he strode down the passage to the door she +indicated, he added: "Now control yourself, madam! And if you have not +got what I want in a quarter of an hour's time, I'll walk out of the +house and leave you to your own devices!" At which Sarah, cowed and +shaken, began tremblingly to tie her bonnet-strings. + +Mahony knocked three times at the door of John Turnham's room, each +time more loudly. Then he took to battering with his fist on the +panels, and cried: "It is I, John, your brother-in-law! Have the +goodness to unlock this door at once!" + +There was still an instant of suspense; then heavy footsteps crossed +the floor and the door swung back. Mahony's eyes met a haggard white +face set in a dusky background. + +"You!" said John in a slow, dazed way, and blinked at the light. But in +the next breath he burst out: "Where's that damned fool of a woman? Is +she skulking behind you? I won't see her--won't have her near me!" + +"If you mean your sister Sarah, she is not in the house at present," +said Mahony; and stepping over the threshold he shut the door. The two +men faced each other in the twilight. + +"What do you want?" demanded John in a hoarse voice. "Have you, too, +come to preach and sermonise? If so, you can go back where you came +from! I'll have none of that cant here." + +"No, no, I leave that to those whose business it is. I'm here as your +doctor"; and Mahony drew up a blind and opened a window. Instantly the +level sun-rays flooded the room; and the air that came in with them +smacked of the sea. Just outside the window a quince-tree in full +blossom reared extravagant masses of pink snow against the blue +overhead; beyond it a covered walk of vines shone golden-green. There +was not a cloud in the sky. To turn back to the musty room from all +this lush and lovely life was like stepping down into a vault. + +John had sunk into a seat before a secretaire, and shielded his eyes +from the sun. A burnt-out candle stood at his elbow; and in a line +before him were ranged such images as remained to him of his dead--a +dozen or more daguerrotypes, of various sizes: Emma and he before +marriage and after marriage; Emma with her first babe, at different +stages of its growth; Emma with the two children; Emma in ball-attire; +with a hat on; holding a book. + +The sight gave the quietus to Mahony's scruples. Stooping, he laid his +hand on John's shoulder. "My poor fellow," he said gently. "Your sister +was not in a fit state to travel, so I have come in her place to tell +you how deeply, how truly, we feel for you in your loss. I want to try, +too, to help you to bear it. For it has to be borne, John." + +At this the torrent burst. Leaping to his feet John began to fling +wildly to and fro; and then, for a time, the noise of his lamentations +filled the room. Mahony had assisted at scenes of this kind before, but +never had he heard the like of the blasphemies that poured over John's +lips. (Afterwards, when he had recovered his distance, he would refer +to it as the occasion on which John took the Almighty to task, for +having dared to interfere in his private life.) + +At the moment he sat silent. "Better for him to get it out," he thought +to himself, even while he winced at John's scurrility. + +When, through sheer exhaustion, John came to a stop, Mahony cast about +for words of consolation. All reference to the mystery of God's way was +precluded; and he shrank from entering that sound plea for the working +of Time, which drives a spike into the heart of the new-made mourner. +He bethought himself of the children. "Remember, she did not leave you +comfortless. You have your little ones. Think of them." + +But this was a false move. Like a belated thunderclap after the storm +is over, John broke out again, his haggard eyes aflame. "Curse the +children!" he cried thickly. "Curse them, I say! If I had once caught +sight of them since she ... she went, I should have wrung their necks. +I never wanted children. They came between us. They took her from me. +It was a child that killed her. Now, she is gone and they are left. +Keep them out of my way, Mahony! Don't let them near me.--Oh, Emma... +wife!" and here his shoulders heaved, under dry, harsh sobs. + +Mahony felt his own eyes grow moist. "Listen to me, John. I promise +you, you shall not see your children again until you wish to--till +you're glad to recall them, as a living gift from her you have lost. +I'll look after them for you." + +"You will? ... God bless you, Mahony!" + +Judging the moment ripe, Mahony rose and went out to fetch the tray on +which Sarah had set the eatables. The meat was but a chop, charred on +one side, raw on the other; but John did not notice its shortcomings. +He fell on it like the starving man he was, and gulped down two or +three glasses of port. The colour returned to his face, he was able to +give an account of his wife's last hours. "And to talk is what he +needs, even if he goes on till morning." Mahony was quick to see that +there were things that rankled in John's memory, like festers in flesh. +One was that, knowing the greys were tricky, he had not forbidden them +to Emma long ago. But he had felt proud of her skill in handling the +reins, of the attention she attracted. Far from thwarting her, he had +actually urged her on. Her fall had been a light one, and at the outset +no bad results were anticipated: a slight haemorrhage was soon got +under control. A week later, however, it began anew, more violently, +and then all remedies were in vain. As it became clear that the child +was dead, the doctors had recourse to serious measures. But the +bleeding went on. She complained of a roaring in her ears, her +extremities grew cold, her pulse fluttered to nothing. She passed from +syncope to coma, and from coma to death. John swore that two of the +doctors had been the worse for drink; the third was one of those +ignorant impostors with whom the place swarmed. And again he made +himself reproaches. + +"I ought to have gone to look for someone else. But she was dying ... I +could not tear myself away.--Mahony, I can still see her. They had +stretched her across the bed, so that her head hung over the side. Her +hair swept the floor--one scoundrel trod on it ... trod on her hair! +And I had to stand by and watch, while they butchered her--butchered my +girl.--Oh, there are things, Mahony, one cannot dwell on and live!" + +"You must not look at it like that. Yet, when I recall some of the +cases I've seen contraction induced in ..." + +"Ah yes, if you had been here ... my God, if only you had been here!" + +But Mahony did not encourage this idea; it was his duty to unhitch +John's thoughts from the past. He now suggested that, the children and +Sarah safe in his keeping, John should shut up the house and go away. +To his surprise John jumped at the proposal, was ready there and then +to put it into effect. Yes, said he, he would start the very next +morning, and with no more than a blanket on his back, would wander a +hundred odd miles into the bush, sleeping out under the stars at night, +and day by day increasing the distance between himself and the scene of +his loss. And now up he sprang, in a sudden fury to be gone. Warning +Sarah into the background, Mahony helped him get together a few +necessaries, and then walked him to a hotel. Here he left him sleeping +under the influence of a drug, and next day saw him off on his tramp +northwards, over the Great Divide. + +John's farewell words were: "Take the keys of the house with you, and +don't give them up to me under a month, at least." + +That day's coach was full; they had to wait for seats till the +following afternoon. The delay was not unwelcome to Mahony; it gave +Polly time to get the letter he had written her the night before. After +leaving John, he set about raising money for the extra fares and other +unforeseen expenses: at the eleventh hour, Sarah informed him that +their young brother Jerry had landed in Melbourne during Emma's +illness, and had been hastily boarded out. Knowing no one else in the +city, Mahony was forced, much as it went against the grain, to turn to +Henry Ocock for assistance. And he was effusively received--Ocock tried +to press double the sum needed on him. Fortune was no doubt smiling on +the lawyer. His offices had swelled to four rooms, with appropriate +clerks in each. He still, however, nursed the scheme of transferring +his business to Ballarat. + +"As soon, that is, as I can hear of suitable premises. I understand +there's only one locality to be considered, and that's the western +township." On which Mahony, whose address was in the outer darkness, +repeated his thanks and withdrew. + +He found Jerry's lodging, paid the bill, and took the boy back to St. +Kilda--a shy slip of a lad in his early teens, with the colouring and +complexion that ran in the family. John's coachman, who had shown +himself not indisposed--for a substantial sum, paid in advance--to keep +watch over house and grounds, was installed in an outbuilding, and next +day at noon, after personally aiding Sarah, who was all a-tremble at +the prospect of the bush journey, to pack her own and the children's +clothes, Mahony turned the key in the door of the darkened house. But a +couple of weeks ago it had been a proud and happy home. Now it had no +more virtue left in it than a crab's empty shell. + +He had fumed on first learning of Jerry's superfluous presence; but +before they had gone far he saw that he would have fared ill indeed, +had Jerry not been there. Sarah, too agitated that morning to touch a +bite of food, was seized, not an hour out, with sickness and fainting. +There she sat, her eyes closed, her salts to her nose or feebly sipping +brandy, unable to lift a finger to help with the children. The younger +of the two slept most of the way hotly and heavily on Mahony's knee; +but the boy, a regular pest, was never for a moment still. In vain did +his youthful uncle pinch his leg each time he wriggled to the floor. It +was not till a fierce-looking digger opposite took out a jack-knife and +threatened to saw off both his feet if he stirred again, to cut out his +tongue if he put another question that, scarlet with fear, little +Johnny was tamed. Altogether it was a nightmare of a journey, and +Mahony groaned with relief when, lamps having for some time twinkled +past, the coach drew up, and Hempel and Long Jim stepped forward with +their lanterns. Sarah could hardly stand. The children, wrathful at +being wakened from their sleep, kicked and screamed. + + + + +Chapter VI + +For the first time in her young married life, Polly felt vexed with her +husband. + +"Oh, he shouldn't have done that... no, really he shouldn't!" she +murmured; and the hand with the letter in it drooped to her lap. + +She had been doing a little surreptitious baking in Richard's absence, +and without a doubt was hot and tired. The tears rose to her eyes. +Deserting her pastry-board she retreated behind the woodstack and sat +down on the chopping-block; and then, for some minutes, the sky was +blotted out. She felt quite unequal, in her present condition, to +facing Sarah, who was so sensitive, so easily shocked; and she was +deeply averse from her fine-lady sister discovering the straitness of +Richard's means and home. + +But it was hard for Polly to secure a moment's privacy. + +"An' so this is w'ere you're 'idin', is it?" said Long Jim +snappishly--he had been opening a keg of treacle and held a sticky plug +in his hand. "An' me runnin' my pore ol' legs off arter you!" And +Hempel met her on her entry with: "No further bad news, I 'ope and +trust, ma'am?"--Hempel always retained his smooth servility of manner. +"The shopman PAR EXCELLENCE, my dear!" Richard was used to say of him. + +Polly reassured her attendants, blew her nose, re-read her letter; and +other feelings came uppermost. She noticed how scribbly the writing +was--Richard had evidently been hard pushed for time. There was an +apologetic tone about it, too, which was unlike him. He was probably +wondering what she would say; he might even be making himself +reproaches. It was unkind of her to add to them. Let her think rather +of the sad state poor John had been found in, and of his two motherless +babes. As for Sarah, it would never have done to leave her out. + +Wiping her eyes Polly untied her cooking-apron and set to reviewing her +resources. Sarah would have to share her bed, Richard to sleep on the +sofa. The children ... and here she knitted her brows. Then going into +the yard, she called to Tom Ocock, who sat whittling a stick in front +of his father's house; and Tom went down to Main Street for her, and +bought a mattress which he carried home on his shoulder. This she +spread on the bedroom floor, Mrs. Hemmerde having already given both +rooms a sound scouring, just in case a flea or a spider should be lying +perdu. After which Polly fell to baking again in good earnest; for the +travellers would be famished by the time they arrived. + +Towards ten o'clock Tom, who was on the look-out, shouted that the +coach was in, and Polly, her table spread, a good fire going, stepped +to the door, outwardly very brave, inwardly all a-flutter. Directly, +however, she got sight of the forlorn party that toiled up the slope: +Sarah clinging to Hempel's arm, Mahony bearing one heavy child, +and--could she believe her eyes?--Jerry staggering under the other: her +bashfulness was gone. She ran forward to prop poor Sarah on her free +side, to guide her feet to the door; and it is doubtful whether little +Polly had ever spent a more satisfying hour than that which followed. + +Her husband, watching her in silent amaze, believed she thoroughly +enjoyed the fuss and commotion. + +There was Sarah, too sick to see anything but the bed, to undress, to +make fomentations for, to coax to mouthfuls of tea and toast. There was +Jerry to feed and send off, with the warmest of hugs, to share Tom +Ocock's palliasse. There were the children ... well, Polly's first plan +had been to put them straight to bed. But when she came to peel off +their little trousers she changed her mind. + +"I think, Mrs. Hemmerde, if you'll get me a tub of hot water, we'll +just pop them into it; they'll sleep so much better," she said ... not +quite truthfully. Her private reflection was: "I don't think Sarah can +once have washed them properly, all that time." + +The little girl let herself be bathed in her sleep; but young John +stood and bawled, digging fat fists into slits of eyes, while Polly +scrubbed at his massy knees, the dimpled ups and downs of which looked +as if they had been worked in by hand. She had never seen her brother's +children before and was as heartily lost in admiration of their plump, +well-formed bodies, as her helper of the costliness of their outfit. + +"Real Injun muslin, as I'm alive!" ejaculated the woman, on fishing out +their night-clothes. "An' wid the sassiest lace for trimmin'!--Och, the +poor little motherless angels!--Stan' quiet, you young divil you, an' +lemme button you up!" + +Clean as lily-bells, the pair were laid on the mattress-bed. + +"At least they can't fall out," said Polly, surveying her work with a +sigh of content. + +Every one else having retired, she sat with Richard before the fire, +waiting for his bath-water to reach the boil. He was anxious to know +just how she had fared in his absence, she to hear the full story of +his mission. He confessed to her that his offer to load himself up with +the whole party had been made in a momentary burst of feeling. +Afterwards he had repented his impulsiveness. + +"On your account, love. Though when I see how well you've managed--you +dear, clever little woman!" + +And Polly consoled him, being now come honestly to the stage of: "But, +Richard, what else could you do?" + +"What, indeed! I knew Emma had no relatives in Melbourne, and who +John's intimates might be I had no more idea than the man in the moon." + +"John hasn't any friends. He never had." + +"As for leaving the children in Sarah's charge, if you'll allow me to +say so, my dear, I consider your sister Sarah the biggest goose of a +female it has ever been my lot to run across." + +"Ah, but you don't really know Sarah yet," said Polly, and smiled a +little, through the tears that had ripen to her eyes at the tale of +John's despair. + +What Mahony did not mention to her was the necessity he had been under +of borrowing money; though Polly was aware he had left home with but a +modest sum in his purse. He wished to spare her feelings. Polly had a +curious delicacy--he might almost call it a manly delicacy--with regard +to money; and the fact that John had not offered to put hand to pocket; +let alone liberally flung a blank cheque at his head, would, Mahony +knew, touch his wife on a tender spot. Nor did Polly herself ask +questions. Richard made no allusion to John having volunteered to bear +expenses, so the latter had evidently not done so. What a pity! Richard +was so particular himself, in matters of this kind, that he might write +her brother down close and stingy. Of course John's distressed state of +mind partly served to excuse him. But she could not imagine the +calamity that would cause Richard to forget his obligations. + +She slid her hand into her husband's and they sat for a while in +silence. Then, half to herself, and out of a very different train of +thought she said: "Just fancy them never crying once for their mother." + +* * * * * + +"Talking of friends," said Sarah, and fastidiously cleared her throat. +"Talking of friends, I wonder now what has become of one of those young +gentlemen I met at your wedding. He was ... let me see ... why, I +declare if I haven't forgotten his name!" + +"Oh, I know who you mean--besides there was only one, Sarah," Mahony +heard his wife reply, and therewith fall into her sister's trap. "You +mean Purdy--Purdy Smith--who was Richard's best man." + +"Smith?" echoed Sarah. "La, Polly! Why don't he make it Smythe?" + +It was a warm evening some three weeks later. The store was closed to +customers; but Mahony had ensconced himself in a corner of it with a +book: since the invasion, this was the one place in which he could make +sure of finding quiet. The sisters sat on the log-bench before the +house; and, without seeing them, Mahony knew to a nicety how they were +employed. Polly darned stockings, for John's children; Sarah was +tatting, with her little finger stuck out at right angles to the rest. +Mahony could hardly think of this finger without irritation: it seemed +to sum up Sarah's whole outlook on life. + +Meanwhile Polly's fresh voice went on, relating Purdy's fortunes. "He +took part, you know, in the dreadful affair on the Eureka last +Christmas, when so many poor men were killed. We can speak of it, now +they've all been pardoned; but then we had to be very careful. Well, he +was shot in the ankle, and will always be lame from it." + +"What!--go hobbling on one leg for the remainder of his days? Oh, my +dear!" said Sarah, and laughed. + +"Yes, because the wound wasn't properly attended to--he had to hide +about in the bush, for ever so long. Later on he went to the Beamishes, +to be nursed. But by that time his poor leg was in a very bad state. +You know he is engaged--or very nearly so--to Tilly Beamish." + +"What?" said Sarah once more. "That handsome young fellow engaged to +one of those vulgar creatures?" + +"Oh, Sarah ... not really vulgar. It isn't their fault they didn't have +a better education. They lived right up-country, where there were no +schools. Tilly never saw a town till she was sixteen; but she can sit +any horse.--Yes, we hope very much Purdy will soon settle down and +marry her--though he left the Hotel again without proposing." And Polly +sighed. + +"There he shows his good taste, my dear." + +"Oh, I'm sure he's fond of Tilly. It's only that his life is so +unsettled. He's been a barman at Euroa since then; and the last we +heard of him, he was shearing somewhere on the Goulburn. He doesn't +seem able to stick to anything." + +"And a rolling stone gathers no moss!" gave back Sarah +sententiously--and in fancy Mahony saw the cut-and-dried nod with which +she accompanied the words. + +Here Hempel passed through the store, clad in his Sunday best, his hair +plastered flat with bear's-grease. + +"Going out for a stroll?" asked his master. + +"That was my h'intention, sir. I don't think you'll find I've left any +of my dooties undone." + +"Oh, go, by all means!" said Mahony curtly, nettled at having his +harmless query misconstrued. It pointed a suspicion he had had, of +late, that a change was coming over Hempel. The model employee was a +shade less prompt than heretofore to fly at his word, and once or twice +seemed actually to be studying his own convenience. Without knowing +what the matter was, Mahony felt it politic not to be +over-exacting--even mildly to conciliate his assistant. It would put +him in an awkward fix, now that he was on the verge of winding up +affairs, should Hempel take it in his head to leave him in the lurch. + +The lean figure moved on and blocked the doorway. Now there was a +sudden babble of cheepy voices, and simultaneously Sarah cried: "Where +have you been, my little cherubs? Come to your aunt, and let her kiss +you!" + +But the children, who had frankly no great liking for Aunt Sarah, +would, Mahony knew, turn a deaf ear to this display of opportunism and +make a rush for his wife. Laying down his book he ran out. "Polly ... +cautious!" + +"It's all right, Richard, I'm being careful." Polly had let her mending +fall, and with each hand held a flaxen-haired child at arm's length. +"Johnny, dirty boy! what HAVE you been up to?" + +"He played he was a digger and sat down in a pool--I couldn't get him +to budge," answered Jerry, and drew his sleeve over his perspiring +forehead. + +"Oh fy, for shame!" + +"Don' care!" said John, unabashed. + +"Don' tare!" echoed his roly-poly sister, who existed but as his shadow. + +"Don't-care was made to care, don't-care was hung!" quoted Aunt Sarah +in her severest copybook tones. + +Turning his head in his aunt's direction young John thrust forth a +bright pink tongue. Little Emma was not behindhand. + +Polly jumped up, dropping her work to the ground. "Johnny, I shall +punish you if ever I see you do that again. Now, Ellen shall put you to +bed instead of Auntie."--Ellen was Mrs. Hemmerde's eldest, and Polly's +first regular maidservant. + +"Don' care," repeated Johnny. "Ellen plays pillers." + +"Edn pays pidders," said the echo. + +Seizing two hot, pudgy hands Polly dragged the pair indoors--though +they held back mainly on principle. They were not affectionate +children; they were too strong of will and set of purpose for that; but +if they had a fondness for anyone it was for their Aunt Polly: she was +ruler over a drawerful of sugar-sticks, and though she scolded she +never slapped. + +While this was going on Hempel stood, the picture of indecision, and +eased now one foot, now the other, as if his boots pinched him. + +At length he blurted out: "I was wondering, ma'am--ahem! Miss +Turnham--if, since it is an agreeable h'evening, you would care to take +a walk to that 'ill I told you of?" + +"Me take a walk? La, no! Whatever put such an idea as that into your +head?" cried Sarah; and tatted and tatted, keeping time with a pretty +little foot. + +"I thought per'aps ..." said Hempel meekly. + +"I didn't make your thoughts, Mr. Hempel," retorted Sarah, laying +stress on the aspirate. + +"Oh no, ma'am. I 'ope I didn't presume to suggest such a thing"; and +with a hangdog air Hempel prepared to slink away. + +"Well, well!" said Sarah double quick; and ceasing to jerk her +crochet-needle in and out, she nimbly rolled up her ball of thread. +"Since you're so insistent ... and since, mind you, there's no society +worth calling such, on these diggings...." The truth was, Sarah saw +that she was about to be left alone with Mahony--Jerry had sauntered +off to meet Ned--and this TETE-A-TETE was by no means to her mind. She +still bore her brother-in-law a grudge for his high-handed treatment of +her at the time of John's bereavement. "As if I had been one of the +domestics, my dear--a paid domestic! Ordered me off to the butcher's in +language that fairly shocked me." + +Mahony turned his back and strolled down to the river. He did not know +which was more painful to witness: Hempel's unmanly cringing, or the +air of fatuous satisfaction that succeeded it. When he returned, the +pair was just setting out; he watched Sarah, on Hempel's arm, picking +short steps in dainty latchet-shoes. + +As soon as they were well away he called to Polly. + +"The coast's clear. Come for a stroll." + +Polly emerged, tying her bonnet-strings. "Why, where's Sarah? Oh ... I +see. Oh, Richard, I hope she didn't put on that--" + +"She did, my dear!" said Mahony grimly, and tucked his wife's hand +under his arm. + +"Oh, how I wish she wouldn't!" said Polly in a tone of concern. "She +does get so stared at--especially of an evening, when there are so many +rude men about. But I really don't think she minds. For she HAS a +bonnet in her box all the time." Miss Sarah was giving Ballarat food +for talk, by appearing on her promenades in a hat: a large, flat, +mushroom hat. + +"I trust my little woman will never put such a ridiculous object on her +head!" + +"No, never ... at least, not unless they become quite the fashion," +answered Polly. "And I don't think they will. They look too odd." + +"Another thing, love," continued Mahony, on whom a sudden light had +dawned as he stood listening to Sarah's trumpery. "I fear your sister +is trifling with the feelings of our worthy Hempel." + +Polly, who had kept her own counsel on this matter, went crimson. "Oh, +do you really think so, Richard?" she asked evasively. "I hope not. For +of course nothing could come of it. Sarah has refused the most eligible +offers." + +"Ah, but there are none here to refuse. And if you don't mind my saying +so, Poll, anything in trousers seems fish to her net!" + +On one of their pacings they found Mr. Ocock come out to smoke an +evening pipe. The old man had just returned from a flying visit to +Melbourne. He looked glum and careworn, but livened up at the sight of +Polly, and cracked one of the mouldy jokes he believed beneficial to a +young woman in her condition. Still, the leading-note in his mood was +melancholy; and this, although his dearest wish was on the point of +being fulfilled. + +"Yes, I've got the very crib for 'Enry at last, doc., Billy de la +Poer's liv'ry-stable, top o' Lydiard Street. We sol' poor Billy up +yesterday. The third smash in two days that makes. Lord! I dunno where +it'll end." + +"Things are going a bit quick over there. There's been too much +building." + +"They're at me to build, too--'Enry is. But I says no. This place is +good enough for me. If 'e's goin' to be ashamed of 'ow 'is father +lives, 'e'd better stop away. I'm an ol' man now, an' a poor one. What +should I want with a fine noo 'ouse? An' 'oo should I build it for, +even if I 'ad the tin? For them two good-for-nothin's in there? Not if +I know it!" + +"Mr. Ocock, you wouldn't believe how kind and clever Tom's been at +helping with the children," said Polly warmly. + +"Yes, an' at bottle-washin' and sweepin' and cookin' a pasty. But a +female 'ud do it just as well," returned Tom's father with a snort of +contempt. + +"Poor old chap!" said Mahony, as they passed out of earshot. "So even +the great Henry's arrival is not to be without its drop of gall." + +"Surely he'll never be ashamed of his father?" + +"Who knows! But it's plain he suspects the old boy has made his pile +and intends him to fork out," said Mahony carelessly; and, with this, +dismissed the subject. Now that his own days in the colony were +numbered, he no longer felt constrained to pump up a spurious interest +in local affairs. He consigned them wholesale to that limbo in which, +for him, they had always belonged. + +The two brothers came striding over the slope. Ned, clad in blue serge +shirt and corduroys, laid an affectionate arm round Polly's shoulder, +and tossed his hat into the air on hearing that the "Salamander," as he +called Sarah, was not at home. + +"For I've tons to tell you, Poll old girl. And when milady sits there +turning up her nose at everything a chap says, somehow the spunk goes +out of one." + +Polly had baked a large cake for her darling, and served out generous +slices. Then, drawing up a chair she sat down beside him, to drink in +his news. + +From his place at the farther end of the table Mahony studied the +trio--these three young faces which were so much alike that they might +have been different readings of one and the same face. Polly, by reason +of her woman's lot, looked considerably the oldest. Still, the +lamplight wiped out some of the shadows, and she was never more +girlishly vivacious than with Ned, entering as she did with zest into +his plans and ideas--more sister now than wife. And Ned showed at his +best with Polly: he laid himself out to divert her; forgot to brag or +to swear; and so natural did it seem for brother to open his heart to +sister that even his egoistic chatter passed muster. As for young +Jerry, who in a couple of days was to begin work in the same claim as +Ned, he sat round-eyed, his thoughts writ large on his forehead. Mahony +translated them thus: how in the world I could ever have sat prim and +proper on the school-bench, when all this--change, adventure, +romance--was awaiting me? Jerry was only, Mahony knew, to push a +wheelbarrow from hole to water and back again for many a week to come; +but for him it would certainly be a golden barrow, and laden with gold, +so greatly had Ned's tales fired his imagination. + +The onlooker felt odd man out, debarred as he was by his profounder +experience from sharing in the young people's light-legged dreams. He +took up his book. But his reading was cut into by Ned's sprightly +account of the Magpie rush; by his description of an engine at work on +the Eureka, and of the wooden airpipes that were being used to +ventilate deep-sinkings. There was nothing Ned did not know, and could +not make entertaining. One was forced, almost against one's will, to +listen to him; and on this particular evening, when he was neither +sponging, nor acting the Big Gun, Mahony toned down his first sweeping +judgment of his young relative. Ned was all talk; and what impressed +one so unfavourably--his grumbling, his extravagant boastfulness--was +the mere thistledown of the moment, puffed off into space. It mattered +little that he harped continually on "chucking up" his job. Two years +had passed since he came to Ballarat, and he was still working for hire +in somebody else's hole. He still groaned over the hardships of the +life, and still toiled on--and all the rest was just the froth and +braggadocio of aimless youth. + + + + +Chapter VII + +Not twenty-four hours later, Sarah had an accident to her MACHOIRE and +returned post-haste to Melbourne. + +"A most opportune breakage!" said Mahony, and laughed. + +That day at the dinner-table he had given his sister-in-law a piece of +his mind. Sarah had always resented the name bestowed on her by her +parents, and was at present engaged in altering it, in giving it, so to +speak, a foreign tang: henceforth she was to be not Sarah, but Sara +(spoken Sahra). As often as Polly's tongue tripped over the unfamiliar +syllable, Sara gently but firmly put her right; and Polly corrected +herself, even begged pardon for her stupidity, till Mahony could bear +it no longer. Throwing politeness to the winds, he twitted Sara with +her finical affectations, her old-maidish ways, the morning sloth that +expected Polly, in her delicate state of health, to carry a +breakfast-tray to the bedside: cast up at her, in short, all that had +made him champ and fret in silence. Sara might, after a fitting period +of the huff, have overlooked the rest; but the "old-maidish" she could +not forgive. And directly dinner was over, the mishap to her mouthpiece +was made known. + +Too much in awe of Mahony to stand up to him--for when he was angry, he +was very angry--Sara retaliated by abusing him to Polly as she packed +her trunk. + +"Manners, indeed! To turn and insult a visitor at his own table! And +who and what is he, I should like to know, to speak to me so? Nothing +but a common storekeeper. My dear, you have my deepest sympathy. It's a +DREADFUL life for you. Of course you keep everything as nice as +possible, under the circumstances. But the surroundings, Polly! ... and +the store ... and the want of society. I couldn't put up with it, not +for a week!" + +Polly, sitting on the side of the tester-bed and feeling very cast down +at Sara's unfriendly departure, shed a few tears at this. For part of +what her sister said was true: it had been wrong of Richard to be rude +to Sara while the latter was a guest in his house. But she defended him +warmly. "I couldn't be happier than I am; Richard's the best husband in +the world. As for his being common, Sara, you know he comes of a much +better family than we do." + +"My dear, common is as common does; and a vulgar calling ends by +vulgarising those who have the misfortune to pursue it. But there's +another reason, Polly, why it is better for me to leave you. There are +certain circumstances, my dear, in which, to put it mildly, it is +AWKWARD for two people of OPPOSITE sexes to go on living under the same +roof." + +"Sarah!--I mean Sara--do you really mean to say Hempel has made you a +proposal?" cried Polly, wide-eyed in her tears. + +"I won't say, my dear, that he has so far forgotten himself as to +actually offer marriage. But he has let me see only too plainly what +his feelings are. Of course, I've kept him in his place--the +preposterous creature! But all the same it's not COMME IL FAUT any +longer for me to be here." + +"Did she say where she was going, or what she intended to do?" Mahony +inquired of his wife that night as she bound the strings of her +nightcap. + +No, she hadn't, Polly admitted, rather out of countenance. But then +Sara was like that--very close about her own affairs. "I think she's +perhaps gone back to her last situation. She had several letters while +she was here, in that lady's hand. People are always glad to get her +back. Not many finishing governesses can teach all she can"--and Polly +checked off Sara's attainments on the fingers of both hands. "She won't +go anywhere under two hundred a year." + +"A most accomplished person, your sister!" said Mahony sleepily. +"Still, it's very pleasant to be by ourselves again--eh, wife?" + +An even more blessed peace shortly descended on the house; for the time +was now come to get rid of the children as well. Since nothing had been +heard of John, they were to be boarded out over Polly's illness. +Through the butcher's lady, arrangements were made with a trooper's +wife, who lived outside the racket and dust of the township, and had a +whole posse of little ones of her own.--"Bless you! half-a-dozen more +wouldn't make any difference to me. There's the paddock for 'em to run +wild in." This was the best that could be done for the children. Polly +packed their little kit, dealt out a parting bribe of barley-sugar, and +saw them hoisted into the dray that would pass the door of their +destination. + +Once more husband and wife sat alone together, as in the days before +John's domestic catastrophe. And now Mahony said tentatively: "Don't +you think, love, we could manage to get on without that old Beamish +woman? I'll guarantee to nurse you as well as any female alive." + +The question did not come as a surprise to Polly; she had already put +it to herself. After the affair with Sara she awaited her new visitor +in fear and trembling. Sara had at least stood in awe of Richard and +held her tongue before him; Mrs. Beamish prided herself on being afraid +of nobody, and on always speaking her mind. And yet, even while +agreeing that it would be well to put "mother" off, Polly drooped her +wings. At a time like this a woman was a woman. It seemed as if even +the best of husbands did not quite understand. + +"Just give her the hint we don't want her," said Mahony airily. + +But "mother" was not the person to take a hint, no matter how broad. It +was necessary to be blunt to the point of rudeness; and Polly spent a +difficult hour over the composition of her letter. She might have saved +her pains. Mrs. Beamish replied that she knew her darling little +Polly's unwillingness to give trouble; but it was not likely she would +now go back on her word: she had been packed and ready to start for the +past week. Polly handed the letter to her husband, and did not say what +she thought she read out of it, namely that "mother," who so seldom +could be spared from home, was looking forward with pleasure to her +trip to Ballarat. + +"I suppose it's a case of making the best of a bad job," sighed Mahony; +and having one day drawn Mrs. Beamish, at melting point, from the +inside of a crowded coach, he loaded Long Jim with her bags and bundles. + +His aversion was not lightened by his subsequently coming on his wife +in the act of unpacking a hamper, which contained half a ham, a stone +jar of butter, some home-made loaves of bread, a bag of vegetables and +a plum pudding. "Good God! does the woman think we can't give her +enough to eat?" he asked testily. He had all the poor Irishman's +distrust of a gift. + +"She means it kindly, dear. She probably thought things were still +scarce here; and she knew I wouldn't be able to do much cooking," +pleaded Polly. And going out to the kitchen she untied the last parcel, +in which was a big round cheese, by stealth. + +She had pulled Mrs. Beamish over the threshold, had got her into the +bedroom and shut the door, before any of the "ohs" and "ahs" she saw +painted on the broad, rubicund face could be transformed into words. +And hugs and kisses over, she bravely seized the bull by the horns and +begged her guest not to criticise house or furnishings in front of +Richard. + +It took Mrs. Beamish a minute or two to grasp her meaning. Then, she +said heartily: "There, there, my duck, don't you worry! I'll be as mum +as mum." And in a whisper: "So, 'e's got a temper, Polly, 'as 'e? But +this I will say: if I'd known this was all 'e 'ad to h'offer you, I'd +'a' said, stop w'ere you are, my lamb, in a comfortable, 'appy 'ome." + +"Oh, I AM happy, mother dear, indeed I am!" cried Polly. "I've never +regretted being married--never once!" + +"There, there, now!" + +"And it's only ... I mean ... this is the best we can afford in the +meantime, and if I am satisfied ..." floundered Polly, dismayed to hear +her words construed into blame of her husband. "It's only that it +upsets Richard if people speak slightingly of our house, and that +upsets me--and I musn't be worried just now, you know," she added with +a somewhat shaky smile. + +"Not a word will I say, ducky, make yer pore little mind easy about +that. Though such a poky little 'en-coop of a place I never was +in!"--and, while tying her cap-strings, Mrs. Beamish swept the little +bedroom and its sloping roof with a withering glance. "I was 'orrified, +girls, simply 'ORRIFIED!" she related the incident to her daughters. +"An' I up an' told 'er so--just like me, you know. Not room enough to +swing a cat in, and 'im sittin' at the 'ead of the table as 'igh an' +mighty as a dook! You can thank yer stars, you two, 'e didn't take one +o' you instead o' Polly." But this was chiefly by way of a +consolation-prize for Tilly and Jinny. + +"An' now, my dear, tell me EVERYTHING." With these words, Mrs. Beamish +spread her skirts and settled down to a cosy chat on the subject of +Polly's hopes. + +But like the majority of her sex she was an adept at dividing her +attention; and while making delicate inquiries of the young wife, she +was also travelling her shrewd eye round the little bedchamber, spying +out and appraising: not one of poor Polly's makeshifts escaped her. The +result of her inspection was to cause her to feel justly indignant with +Mahony. The idea! Him to rob them of Polly just to dump her down in a +place like this! She would never be able to resist telling him what she +thought of him. + +Here, however, she reckoned without Polly. Polly was sharp enough to +doubt "mother's" ability to hold her tongue; and saw to it that Richard +and she were not left alone together. And of an evening when talk +languished, she would beg her husband to read to them from the BALLARAT +STAR, until, as often as not, Mrs. Beamish fell asleep. Frequently, +too, she persuaded him to go out and take a hand in a newlyformed whist +club, or discuss politics with a neighbour. + +Mahony went willingly enough; his home was less home than ever since +the big woman's intrusion. Even his food lost its savour. Mrs. Beamish +had taken over the cooking, and she went about it with an air that +implied he had not had a decent bite to eat since his marriage. + +"There! what do you say to that now? That's something LIKE a pudding!" +and a great plum-duff was planked triumphantly down in the middle of +the dinner-table. "Lor, Polly! your bit of a kitchen ... in this +weather ... I'm fair dished." And the good woman mopped her streaming +face and could herself eat nothing. + +Mahony much preferred his wife's cooking, which took account of his +tastes--it was done, too, without any fuss--and he persisted in +upholding Polly's skill, in face of Mrs. Beamish's good-natured +disbelief. Polly, on edge, lest he should openly state his preference, +nervously held out her plate. + +"It's so good, mother, I must have a second helping," she declared; and +then, without appetite in the cruel, midday heat, did not know what to +do with the solid slab of pudding. Pompey and Palmerston got into the +way of sitting very close to her chair. + +She confided to Richard that Mrs. Beamish disapproved of his evening +outings. "Many an 'usband takes to goin' out at such a time, my dear, +an' never gets back the 'abit of stoppin' at 'ome. So just you be +careful, ducky!" This was a standing joke between them. Mahony would +wink at Polly when he put his hat on, and wear it rakishly askew. + +However, he quite enjoyed a crack with the postmaster or the +town-surveyor, at this juncture. Colonial politics were more +interesting than usual. The new Constitution had been proclaimed, and a +valiant effort was being made to form a Cabinet; to induce, that was, a +sufficient number of well-to-do men to give up time to the service of +their country. It looked as if the attempt were going to fail, just as +on the goldfields the Local Courts, by which since the Stockade the +diggers governed themselves, were failing, because none could afford to +spend his days sitting in them. + +Yet however high the discussion ran, he kept one ear turned towards his +home. Here, things were at a standstill. Polly's time had come and +gone--but there was no end set to their suspense. It was blazing hot +now in the little log house; walls and roof were black with flies; +mosquitoes made the nights hideous. Even Polly lost patience with +herself when, morning after morning, she got up feeling as well as +ever, and knowing that she had to steer through another difficult day. + +It was not the suspense alone: the strain of keeping the peace was +growing too much for her. + +"Oh, DON'T quarrel with her, Richard, for my sake," she begged her +husband one night. "She means so well. And she can't help being like +she is--she has always been accustomed to order Mr. Beamish about. But +I wish she had never, never come," sobbed poor Polly. And Mahony, in a +sudden flash of enlightenment, put his arms round her, and made humble +promises. Not another word should cross his lips! "Though I'd like +nothing so well as to throw her out, and her bags and bundles after +her. Come, laugh a little, my Polly. Think of the old lady flying down +the slope, with her packages in a shower about her head!" + +Rogers, M.D., looked in whenever he passed. At this stage he was of the +jocular persuasion. "Still an unwelcome visitor, ma'am? No little +tidbit of news for me to-day?" There he sat, twiddling his thumbs, +reiterating his singsong: "Just so!" and looking wise as an owl. Mahony +knew the air--had many a time seen it donned to cloak perplexity--and +covert doubts of Rogers' ability began to assail him. But then he fell +mentally foul of every one he came in touch with, at present: Ned, for +the bare-faced fashion in which he left his cheerfulness on the +door-mat; Mrs. Beamish for the eternal "Pore lamb!" with which she +beplastered Polly, and the antiquated reckoning-table she embarrassed +them by consulting. + +However, this state of things could not last for ever, and at dawn, one +hot January day, Polly was taken ill. + +The early hours promised well. But the morning wore on, turned to +midday, then to afternoon, and matters still hung fire. While towards +six o'clock the patient dismayed them by sitting up in bed, saying she +felt much better, and asking for a cup of tea. This drew: "Ah, my pore +lamb, you've got to feel worse yet afore you're better!" from Mrs. +Beamish. + +It ended in Rogers taking up his quarters there, for the night. + +Towards eleven o'clock Mahony and he sat, one on each side of the +table, in the little sitting-room. The heat was insupportable and all +three doors and the window were propped open, in the feeble hope of +creating a draught. The lamp had attracted a swarm of flying things: +giant moths beat their wings against the globe, or fell singed and +sizzling down the chimney; winged-ants alighted with a click upon the +table; blowflies and mosquitoes kept up a dizzy hum. + +From time to time Mahony rose and stole into the bedroom, where Mrs. +Beamish sat fanning the pests off Polly, who was in a feverish doze. +Leaning over his wife he let his finger lie on her wrist; and, back +again in the outer room, he bit nervously at his little-finger nail--an +old trick of his when in a quandary. He had curtly refused a game of +bezique; so Rogers had produced a pack of cards from his own +pocket--soiled, frayed cards, which had likely done service on many a +similar occasion--and was whiling the time away with solitaire. To sit +there watching his slow manipulation of the cards, his patent +intentness on the game; to listen any longer to the accursed din of the +gnats and flies passed Mahony's powers of endurance. Abruptly shoving +back his chair, he went out into the yard. + +This was some twenty paces across--from the row of old kerosene-tins +that constituted his flower-garden, past shed and woodstack to the +post-and-rail fence. How often he walked it he did not know; but when +he went indoors again, his boots were heavy with mud. For a brief +summer storm had come up earlier in the evening. A dense black pall of +cloud had swept like a heavy curtain over the stars, to the tune of +flash and bang. Now, all was clear and calm again; the white star-dust +of the Milky Way powdered the sky just overhead; and though the heat +was still intense, the air had a fragrant smell of saturated dust and +rain-soaked earth--he could hear streamlets of water trickling down the +hillside to the river below. + +Out there in the dark, several things became plain to him. He saw that +he had not had any real confidence in Rogers from the start; while the +effect of the evening spent at close quarters had been to sink his +opinion to nothing. Rogers belonged to an old school; his method was to +sit by and let nature take its course--perhaps just this slowness to +move had won him a name for extreme care. His old fogyism showed up +unmistakably in a short but heated argument they had had on the subject +of chloroform. He cited such hoary objections to the use of the new +anaesthetic in maternity cases as Mahony had never expected to hear +again: the therapeutic value of pain; the moral danger the patient ran +in yielding up her will ("What right have we to bid a fellow-creature +sacrifice her consciousness?") and the impious folly of interfering +with the action of a creative law. It had only remained for him to +quote Genesis, and the talking serpent! + +Had the case been in his own hands he would have intervened before now. +Rogers, on the contrary, was still satisfied with the shape of +affairs--or made pretence to be. For, watching lynx-eyed, Mahony +fancied each time the fat man propelled his paunch out of the sickroom +it was a shade less surely: there were nuances, too, in the way he +pronounced his vapid: "As long as our strength is well maintained ... +well maintained." Mahony doubted Polly's ability to bear much more; and +he made bold to know his own wife's constitution best. Rogers was +shilly-shallying: what if he delayed too long and Polly slipped through +his hands? Lose Polly? Good God! the very thought turned him cold. And +alive to his finger-tips with the superstition of his race, he +impetuously offered up his fondest dream to those invisible powers that +sat aloft, waiting to be appeased. If this was to be the price exacted +of him--the price of his escape from exile--then... then ... + +To come back to the present, however, he was in an awkward position: he +was going to be forced to take Polly's case out of the hands of the man +to whom he had entrusted it. Such a step ran counter to all the stiff +rules of conduct, the punctilios of decorum, laid down by the most +code-ridden profession in the world. + +But a fresh visit to Polly, whose pulse had grown markedly softer, put +an end to his scruples. + +Stalking into the sitting-room he said without preamble: "In my opinion +any further delay will mean a risk to my wife. I request you to operate +immediately." + +Rogers blinked up from his cards, surprise writ across his ruddy +countenance. He pushed his spectacles to his forehead. "Eh? What? Well, +well ... yes, the time is no doubt coming when we shall have to lend +Mother Nature a hand." + +"Coming? It's come ... and gone. Are you blind, man?" + +Rogers had faced many an agitated husband in his day. "Now, now, Mr. +Mahony," he said soothingly, and laid his last two cards in line. "You +must allow me to be the judge of that. Besides," he added, as he took +off his glasses to polish them on a red bandanna; "besides, I should +have to ask you to go out and get some one to assist me." + +"I shall assist you," returned Mahony. + +Rogers smiled his broad, fat smile. "Easier said than done, my good +sir! ... easier said than done." + +Mahony considerately turned his back; and kept it turned. Emptying a +pitcher of water into a basin he began to lather his hands. "I am a +qualified medical man. Of the same university as yourself. I studied +under Simpson." It cost him an effort to get the words out. But, by +speaking, he felt that he did ample penance for the fit of tetchy pride +which, in the first instance, had tied his tongue. + +Rogers was dumbfounded. + +"Well, upon my word!" he ejaculated, letting his hands with glasses and +handkerchief fall to the table. "God bless my soul! why couldn't you +say so before? And why the deuce didn't you yourself attend--" + +"We can go into all that afterwards." + +But Rogers was not one of those who could deal rapidly with the +unexpected: he continued to vent his surprise, and to shoot distrustful +glances at his companion. He was flurried, too, at being driven forward +quicker than he had a mind to go, and said sulkily that Mahony must +take full responsibility for what they were about to do. Mahony hardly +heard him; he was looking at the instruments laid out on the table. His +fingers itched to close round them. + +"I'll prepare my wife," he said briskly. And going into the bedroom he +bent over the pillow. It was damp with the sweat that had dripped from +Polly's head when the pains were on her. + +"'Ere, you girl, get in quick now with your bucket and cloth, and give +that place a good clean-up afore that pore lamb opens 'er eyes again. +I'm cooked--that's what I am!" and sitting heavily down on the +kitchen-chair, Mrs. Beamish wiped her face towards the four points of +the compass. + +Piqued by an unholy curiosity young Ellen willingly obeyed. But a +minute later she was back, having done no more than set her pail down +inside the bedroom door. "Oh, sure, Mrs. Beamish, and I can't do't!" +she cried shrilly. "It's jus' like Andy Soakes's shop ... when they've +bin quarterin' a sheep." + +"I'll QUARTER you, you lazy trollop, you!" cried Mrs. Beamish, rising +to her aching legs again; and her day-old anxiety found vent in a +hearty burst of temper. "I'll teach you!" pulling, as she spoke, the +floorcloth out of the girl's hand. "Such airs and graces! Why, sooner +or later, milady, you've got to go through it yourself." + +"ME ...? Catch me!" said Ellen, with enormous emphasis. "D'yer mean to +say that's 'ow ... 'ow the children always come?" + +"Of course it is, you mincing Nanny-hen!--every blessed child that +walks. And I just 'ope," said Mrs. Beamish, as she marched off herself +with brush and scrubber: "I 'ope, now you know it, you'll 'ave a little +more love and gratitoode for your own mother than ever you 'ad before." + +"Oh lor!" said the girl. "Oh, lor!" And plumping down on the +chopping-block she snatched her apron to her face and began to cry. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +Two months passed before Mahony could help Polly and Mrs. Beamish into +the coach bound for Geelong. + +It had been touch and go with Polly; and for weeks her condition had +kept him anxious. With the inset of the second month, however, she +seemed fairly to turn the corner, and from then on made a steady +recovery, thanks to her youth and an unimpaired vitality. + +He had hurried the little cradle out of sight. But Polly was quick to +miss it, and quite approved of its having been given to a needy +expectant mother near by. Altogether she bore the thwarting of her +hopes bravely. + +"Poor little baby, I should have been very fond of it," was all she +said, when she was well enough to fold and pack away the tiny garments +at which she had stitched with such pleasure. + +It was not to Mahony's mind that she returned with Mrs. Beamish--but +what else could be done? After lying a prisoner through the hot summer, +she was sadly in need of a change. And Mrs. Beamish promised her a diet +of unlimited milk and eggs, as well as the do nothing life that +befitted an invalid. Just before they left, a letter arrived from John +demanding the keys of his house, and proposing that Polly should come +to town to set it in order for him, and help him to engage a +housekeeper. A niggardly--a truly "John-ish"--fashion of giving an +invitation, thought Mahony, and was not for his wife accepting it. But +Polly was so pleased at the prospect of seeing her brother that he +ended by agreeing to her going on to Melbourne as soon as she had +thoroughly recuperated. + +Peace between him and Mrs. Beamish was dearly bought up to the last; +they barely avoided a final explosion. At the beginning of her third +month's absence from home the good woman grew very restive, and sighed +aloud for the day on which she would be able to take her departure. + +"I expec' my bein' away like this'll run clean into a fifty-poun' +note," she said one evening. "When it comes to managin' an 'ouse, those +two girls of mine 'aven't a h'ounce o' gumption between them." + +It WAS tactless of her, even Polly felt that; though she could +sympathise with the worry that prompted the words. As for Mahony, had +he had the money to do it, he would have flung the sum named straight +at her head. + +"She must never come again," said Polly to herself, as she bent over +the hair-chain she was making as a gift for John. "It is a pity, but it +seems as if Richard can't get on with those sort of people." + +In his relief at having his house to himself, Mahony accepted even +Polly's absence with composure. To be perpetually in the company of +other people irked him beyond belief. A certain amount of privacy was +as vital to him as sleep. + +Delighting in his new-found solitude, he put off from day to day the +disagreeable job of winding up his affairs and discovering how much--or +how little--ready money there would be to set sail with. Another thing, +some books he had sent home for, a year or more ago, came to hand at +this time, and gave him a fresh pretext for delay. There were eight or +nine volumes to unpack and cut the pages of. He ran from one to +another, sipping, devouring. Finally he cast anchor in a collected +edition of his old chief's writings on obstetrics--slipped in, this, as +a gift from the sender, a college chum--and over it, his feet on the +table, his dead pipe in the corner of his mouth, Mahony sat for the +better part of the night. + +The effect of this master-mind on his was that of a spark on tinder. +Under the flash, he cursed for the hundredth time the folly he had been +guilty of in throwing up medicine. It was a vocation that had fitted +him as coursing fits a hound, or house-wifery a woman. The only excuse +he could find for his apostasy was that he had been caught in an +epidemic of unrest, which had swept through the country, upsetting the +balance of men's reason. He had since wondered if the Great Exhibition +of '51 had not had something to do with it, by unduly whetting people's +imaginations; so that but a single cry of "Gold!" was needed, to loose +the spirit of vagrancy that lurks in every Briton's blood. His case had +perhaps been peculiar in this: no one had come forward to warn or +dissuade. His next relatives--mother and sisters--were, he thought, +glad to know him well away. In their eyes he had lowered himself by +taking up medicine; to them it was still of a piece with barber's pole +and cupping-basin. Before his time no member of the family had entered +any profession but the army. Oh, that infernal Irish pride! ... and +Irish poverty. It had choke-damped his youth, blighted the prospects of +his sisters. He could remember, as if it were yesterday, the jibes and +fleers called forth by the suit of a wealthy Dublin brewer, who had +been attracted--by sheer force of contrast, no doubt--to the elder of +the two swan-necked, stiff-backed Miss Townshend-Mahonys, with their +long, thin noses, and the ingrained lines that ran from the curled +nostrils to the corners of their supercilious mouths, describing a +sneer so deep that at a distance it was possible to mistake it for a +smile. "Beer, my dear, indeed and there are worse things in the world +than beer!" he heard his mother declare in her biting way. "By all +means take him! You can wash yourself in it if water gets scarce, and +I'll place my kitchen orders with you." Lucinda, who had perhaps +sniffed timidly at release, burnt crimson: thank you! she would rather +eat rat-bane.--He supposed they pinched and scraped along as of +old--the question of money was never broached between him and them. +Prior to his marriage he had sent them what he could; but that little +was in itself an admission of failure. They made no inquiries about his +mode of life, preferring it to remain in shadow; enough for them that +he had not amassed a fortune. Had that come to pass, they might have +pardoned the rude method of its making--in fancy he listened to the +witty, cutting, self-derisive words, in which they would have alluded +to his success. + +Lying back in his chair he thought of them thus, without unkindliness, +even with a dash of humour. That was possible, now that knocking about +the world had rubbed off some of his own corners. In his young days, +he, too, had been hot and bitter. What, however, to another might have +formed the chief crux in their conduct--it was by squandering such +money as there was, his own portion among it, on his scamp of an elder +brother, that they had forced him into the calling they despised--this +had not troubled him greatly. For medicine was the profession on which +his choice would anyhow have fallen. And to-night the book that lay +before him had infected him with the old enthusiasm. He re-lived those +days when a skilfully handled case of PLACENTA PREVIA, or a successful +delivery in the fourth position, had meant more to him than the Charge +of the Light Brigade. + +Fresh from this dip into the past, this foretaste of the future, he +turned in good heart to business. An inventory had to be taken; damaged +goods cleared out; a list of bad and less bad debts drawn up: he and +Hempel were hard at work all next day. The result was worse even than +he had expected. His outlay that summer--ever since the day on which he +had set off to the aid of his bereaved relative--had been enormous. +Trade had run dry, and throughout Polly's long illness he had dipped +blindly into his savings. He could never have said no to Mrs. Beamish +when she came to him for money--rather would he have pawned the coat +off his back. And she, good woman, was unused to cheeseparing. His +men's wages paid, berths booked, the numerous expenses bound up with a +departure defrayed, he would have but a scanty sum in hand with which +to start on the other side. + +For himself he was not afraid; but he shrank from the thought of Polly +undergoing privations. So far, they had enjoyed a kind of frugal +comfort. But should he meet with obstacles at the outset: if patients +were laggardly and the practice slow to move, or if he himself fell +ill, they might have a spell of real poverty to face. And it was under +the goad of this fear that he hit on a new scheme. Why not leave Polly +behind for a time, until he had succeeded in making a home for +her?--why not leave her under the wing of brother John? John stood +urgently in need of a head for his establishment, and who so well +suited for the post as Polly? Surely, if it were put before him, John +must jump at the offer! Parting from Polly, and were it only for a +little while, would be painful; but, did he go alone, he would be free +to do his utmost--and with an easy mind, knowing that she lacked none +of the creature-comforts. Yes, the more he considered the plan, the +better he liked it. The one flaw in his satisfaction was the thought +that if their child had lived, no such smooth and simple arrangement +would have been possible. He could not have foisted a family on Turnham. + +Now he waited with impatience for Polly to return--his reasonable +little Polly! But he did not hurry her. Polly was enjoying her holiday. +Having passed to Melbourne from Geelong she wrote: + + +JOHN IS SO VERY KIND. HE DOESN'T OF COURSE GO OUT YET HIMSELF, BUT I +WAS PRESENT WITH SOME FRIENDS OF HIS AT A VERY ELEGANT SOIREE. JOHN +GAVE ME A HEADDRESS COMPOSED OF BLACK PEARLS AND FROSTED LEAVES. HE +MEANS TO GO IN FOR POLITIES AS SOON AS HIS YEAR OF MOURNING IS UP. + + +Mahony replied: + + +ENJOY YOURSELF, MY HEART, AND SET ALL THE SIGHTS YOU CAN. + + +While into more than one of his letters he slipped a banknote. + + +FOR YOU KNOW I LIKE YOU TO PAY YOUR OWN WAY AS FAR AS POSSIBLE. + + +And at length the day came when he could lift his wife out of the +coach. She emerged powdered brown with dust and very tired, but +radiantly happy: it was a great event in little Polly's life, this +homecoming, and coming, too, strong and well. The house was a lively +place that afternoon: Polly had so much to tell that she sat holding +her bonnet for over an hour, quite unable to get as far as the bedroom; +and even Long Jim's mouth went up at the corners instead of down; for +Polly had contrived to bring back a little gift for every one. And in +presenting these, she found out more of what people were thinking and +feeling than her husband had done in all the eight weeks of her absence. + +Mahony was loath to damp her pleasure straightway; he bided his time. +He could not know that Polly also had been laying plans, and that she +watched anxiously for the right moment to unfold them. + +The morning after her return, she got a lift in the baker's cart and +drove out to inspect John's children. What she saw and heard on this +visit was disquieting. The children had run wild, were grown dirty, +sly, untruthful. Especially the boy.--"A young Satan, and that's a +fact, Mrs. Mahony! What he needs is a man's hand over him, and a good +hidin' six days outer seven." + +It was not alone little Johnny's misconduct, however, that made Polly +break silence. An incident occurred that touched her still more nearly. + +Husband and wife sat snug and quiet as in the early days of their +marriage. Autumn had come round and a fire burnt in the stove, before +which Pompey snorted in his dreams. But, for all the cosy tranquillity, +Polly was not happy; and time and again she moistened and bit at the +tip of her thread, before pointing it through her needle. For the book +open before Richard, in which he was making notes as he read, was--the +Bible. Bending over him to drop a kiss on the top of his head, Polly +had been staggered by what she saw. Opposite the third verse of the +first chapter of Genesis: "And God said, Let there be light: and there +was light," he had written: "Three days before the sun!" Her heart +seemed to shrivel, to grow small in her breast, at the thought of her +husband being guilty of such impiety. Ceasing her pretence at sewing, +she walked out of the house into the yard. Standing there under the +stars she said aloud, as if some one, THE One, could hear her: "He +doesn't mean to do wrong.... I KNOW he doesn't!" But when she +re-entered the room he was still at it. His beautiful writing, reduced +to its tiniest, wound round the narrow margins. + +Deeply red, Polly took her courage in both hands, and struck a blow for +the soul whose salvation was more to her than her own. "Richard, do you +think that ... is ... is right?" she asked in a low voice. + +Mahony raised his head. "Eh?--what, Pollykin?" + +"I mean, do you think you ought ... that it is right to do what you are +doing?" + +The smile, half-tender, half-quizzical that she loved, broke over her +husband's face. He held out his hand. "Is my little wife troubled?" + +"Richard, I only mean..." + +"Polly, my dear, don't worry your little head over what you don't +understand. And have confidence in me. You know I wouldn't do anything +I believed to be wrong?" + +"Yes, indeed. And you are really far more religious than I am." + +"One can be religious and yet not shut one's eyes to the truth. It's +Saint Paul, you know, who says: we can do nothing against the Truth but +for the Truth. And you may depend on it, Polly, the All-Wise would +never have given us the brains He has, if He had not intended us to use +them. Now I have long felt sure that the Bible is not wholly what it +claims to be--direct inspiration." + +"Oh, Richard!" said Polly, and threw an anxious glance over her +shoulder. "If anyone should hear you!" + +"We can't afford to let our lives be governed by what other people +think, Polly. Nor will I give any man the right to decide for me what +my share of the Truth shall be." + +On seeing the Bible closed Polly breathed again, at the same time +promising herself to take the traitorous volume into safe-keeping, that +no third person's eye should rest on it. Perhaps, too, if it were put +away Richard would forget to go on writing in it. He had probably begun +in the first place only because he had nothing else to do. In the store +he sat and smoked and twirled his thumbs--not half a dozen customers +came in, in the course of the day. If he were once properly occupied +again, with work that he liked, he would not be tempted to put his +gifts to such a profane use. Thus she primed herself for speaking. For +now was the time. Richard was declaring that trade had gone to the +dogs, his takings dropped to a quarter of what they had formerly been. +This headed just where she wished. But Polly would not have been Polly, +had she not glanced aside for a moment, to cheer and console. + +"It's the same everywhere, Richard. Everybody's complaining. And that +reminds me, I forgot to tell you about the Beamishes. They're in great +trouble. You see, a bog has formed in front of the Hotel, and the +traffic goes round another way, so they've lost most of their custom. +Mr. Beamish never opens his mouth at all now, and mother is fearfully +worried. That's what was the matter when she was here--only she was too +kind to say so." + +"Hard lines!" + +"Indeed it is. But about us; I'm not surprised to hear trade is dull. +Since I was over in the western township last, no less than six new +General Stores have gone up--I scarcely knew the place. They've all got +big plate-glass windows; and were crowded with people." + +"Yes, there's a regular exodus up west. But that doesn't alter the +fact, wife, that I've made a very poor job of storekeeping. I shall +leave here with hardly a penny to my name." + +"Yes, but then, Richard," said Polly, and bent over her strip of +needlework, "you were never cut out to be a storekeeper, were you?" + +"I was not. And I verily believe, if it hadn't been for that old +sober-sides of a Hempel, I should have come a cropper long ago." + +"Yes, and Hempel," said Polly softly; "Hempel's been wanting to leave +for ever so long." + +"The dickens he has!" cried Mahony in astonishment. "And me humming and +hawing about giving him notice! What's the matter with him? What's he +had to complain of?" + +"Oh, nothing like that. He wants to enter the ministry. A helper's +needed at the Baptist Chapel, and he means to apply for the post. You +see, he's saved a good deal, and thinks he can study to be a minister +at the same time." + +"Study for his grave, the fool! So that's it, is it? Well, well! it +saves trouble in the end. I don't need to bother my head now over +what's to become of him ... him or anyone else. My chief desire is to +say good-bye to this hole for ever. There's no sense, Polly, in my +dawdling on. Indeed, I haven't the money to do it. So I've arranged, my +dear, with our friend Ocock to come in and sell us off, as soon as you +can get our personal belongings put together." + +Here Polly raised her head as if to interrupt; but Mahony, full of what +he had to say, ignored the movement, and went on speaking. He did not +wish to cause his wife uneasiness, by dwelling on his difficulties; but +some explanation was necessary to pave the way for his proposal that +she should remain behind, when he left the colony. He spent all his +eloquence in making this sound natural and attractive. But it was hard, +when Polly's big, astonished eyes hung on his face. "Do you think, for +my sake, you could be brave enough?" he wound up, rather unsurely. "It +wouldn't be for long, love, I'm certain of that. Just let me set foot +in England once more!" + +"Why ... why, yes, dear Richard, I ... I think I could, if you really +wished it," said Polly in a small voice. She tried to seem reasonable; +though black night descended on her at the thought of parting, and +though her woman's eyes saw a hundred objections to the plan, which his +had overlooked. (For one thing, John had just installed Sara as +housekeeper, and Sara would take it very unkindly to be shown the +door.) "I THINK I could," she repeated. "But before you go on, dear, I +should like to ask YOU something." + +She laid down her needlework; her heart was going pit-a-pat. "Richard, +did you ever... I mean have you never thought of ... of taking up your +profession again--I mean here--starting practice here?--No, wait a +minute! Let me finish. I ... I ... oh, Richard!" Unable to find words, +Polly locked her fingers under the tablecloth and hoped she was not +going to be so silly as to cry. Getting up, she knelt down before her +husband, laying her hands on his knees. "Oh, Richard, I wish you +would--HOW I wish you would!" + +"Why, Polly!" said Mahony, surprised at her agitation. "Why, my dear, +what's all this?--You want to know if I never thought of setting up in +practice out here? Of course I did ... in the beginning. You don't +think I'd have chosen to keep a store, if there'd been any other +opening for me? But there wasn't, child. The place was overrun. Never a +medico came out and found digging too much for him, but he fell back in +despair on his profession. I didn't see my way to join their starvation +band." + +"Yes, THEN, Richard!--but now?" broke in Polly. "Now, it's quite, quite +different. Look at the size Ballarat has grown--there are more than +forty thousand people settled on it; Mr. Ocock told me so. And you +know, dear, doctors have cleared out lately, not come fresh. There was +that one, I forget his name, who drank himself to death; and the two, +you remember, who were sold up just before Christmas." But this was an +unfortunate line of argument to have hit on, and Polly blushed and +stumbled. + +Mahony laughed at her slip, and smoothed her hair. "Typical fates, +love! They mustn't be mine. Besides, Polly, you're forgetting the main +thing--how I hate the place, and how I've always longed to get away." + +"No, I'm not. But please let me go on.--You know, Richard, every one +believes some day Ballarat will be the chief city--bigger even than +Geelong or Melbourne. And then to have a good practice here would mean +ever such a lot of money. I'm not the only person who thinks so. +There's Sara, and Mrs. Beamish--I know, of course, you don't care much +what they say; but still--" Polly meant: still, you see, I have public +opinion on my side. As, however, once more words failed her, she +hastened to add: "John, too, is amazed to hear you think of going home +to bury yourself in some little English village. He's sure there'd be a +splendid opening for you here. John thinks very, very highly of you. He +told me he believes you would have saved Emma's life, if you had been +there." + +"I'm much obliged to your brother for his confidence," said Mahony +dryly; "but--" + +"Wait a minute, Richard! You see, dear, I can't help feeling myself +that you ought not to be too hasty in deciding. Of course, I know I'm +young, and haven't had much experience, but ... You see, you're KNOWN +here, Richard, and that's always something; in England you'd be a +perfect stranger. And though you may say there are too many doctors on +the Flat, still, if the place goes on growing as it is doing, there'll +soon be room for more; and then, if it isn't you, it'll just be some +one else. And that DOES seem a pity, when you are so clever--so much, +much cleverer than other people! Yes, I know all about it; Mrs. Beamish +told me it was you I owed my life to, not Dr. Rogers"--at which Mahony +winced, indignant that anyone should have betrayed to Polly how near +death she had been. "Oh, I DO want people to know you for what you +really are!" said little Polly. + +"Pussy, I believe she has ambitions for her husband," said Mahony to +Palmerston. + +"Of course I have. You say you hate Ballarat, and all that, but have +you ever thought, Richard, what a difference it would make if you were +in a better position? You think people look down on you, because you're +in trade. But if you were a doctor, there'd be none of that. You'd call +yourself by your full name again, and write it down on the visiting +list at Government House, and be as good as anybody, and be asked into +society, and keep a horse. You'd live in a bigger house, and have a +room to yourself and time to read and write. I'm quite sure you'd make +lots of money and soon be at the top of the tree. And after all, dear +Richard, I don't want to go home. I would much rather stay here and +look after Jerry, and dear Ned, and poor John's children," said Polly, +falling back as a forlorn hope on her own preference. + +"Why, what a piece of special pleading!" cried Mahony, and leaning +forward, he kissed the young flushed face. + +"Don't laugh at me. I'm in earnest." + +"Why, no, child. But Polly, my dear, even if I were tempted for a +moment to think seriously of what you say, where would the money come +from? Fees are high, it's true, if the ball's once set a-rolling. But +till then? With a jewel of a wife like mine, I'd be a scoundrel to take +risks." + +Polly had been waiting for this question. On hearing it, she sat back +on her heels and drew a deep breath. The communication she had now to +make him was the hub round which all turned. Should he refuse to +consider it.... Plucking at the fringe of the tablecloth, she brought +out, piecemeal, the news that John was willing to go surety for the +money they would need to borrow for the start. Not only that: he +offered them a handsome sum weekly to take entire charge of his +children.--"Not here, in this little house--I know that wouldn't do," +Polly hastened to throw in, forestalling the objection she read in +Richard's eyes. Now did he not think he should weigh an offer of this +kind very carefully? A name like John's was not to be despised; most +people in their position would jump at it. "I understand something +about it," said the little woman, and sagely nodded her head. "For when +I was in Geelong, Mr. Beamish tried his hardest to raise some money and +couldn't, his sureties weren't good enough." Mahony had not the heart +to chide her for discussing his private affairs with her brother. +Indeed, he rather admired the businesslike way she had gone about it. +And he admitted this, by ceasing to banter and by calling her attention +to the various hazards and inconveniences the step would entail. + +Polly heard him out in silence. Enough for her, in the beginning, that +he did not decline off-hand. They had a long talk, the end of which was +that he promised to sleep over John's proposal, and delay fixing the +date of the auction till the morning. + +Having yielded this point Mahony kissed his wife and sent her to bed, +himself going out with the dog for his usual stroll. + +It was a fine night--moonless, but thick with stars. So much, at least, +could be said in favour of the place: there was abundant sky-room; you +got a clear half of the great vault at once. How he pitied, on such a +night, the dwellers in old, congested cities, whose view of the starry +field was limited to a narrow strip, cut through house-tops. + +Yet he walked with a springless tread. The fact was, certain of his +wife's words had struck home; and in the course of the past year he had +learnt to put considerable faith in Polly's practical judgment. As he +wound his way up the little hill to which he had often carried his +perplexities, he let his pipe go out, and forgot to whistle Pompey off +butcher's garbage. + +Sitting down on a log he rested his chin in his hands. Below him +twinkled the sparse lights of the Flat; shouts and singing rose from +the circus.--And so John would have been willing to go surety for him! +Let no one say the unexpected did not happen. All said and done, they +were little more than strangers to each other, and John had no notion +what his money-making capacities as a doctor might be. It was true, +Polly had been too delicate to mention whether the affair had come +about through her persuasions or on John's own initiative. John might +have some ulterior motive up his sleeve. Perhaps he did not want to +lose his sister ... or was scheming to bind a pair of desirables fast +to this colony, the welfare of which he had so much at heart. Again, it +might be that he wished to buy off the memory of that day on which he +had stripped his soul naked. Simplest of all, why should he not be +merely trying to pay back a debt? He, Mahony, might shrink from lying +under an obligation to John, but, so far, the latter had not scrupled +to accept favours from him. But that was always the way with your rich +men; they were not troubled by paltry pride; for they knew it was +possible to acquit themselves of their debts at a moment's notice, and +with interest. This led him to reflect on the great help to him the +loan of his wealthy relative's name would be: difficulties would melt +before it. And surely no undue risk was involved in the use of it? +Without boasting, he thought he was better equipped, both by aptitude +and training, than the ruck of colonial practitioners. Did he enter the +lists, he could hardly fail to succeed. And out here even a moderate +success spelled a fortune. Gained double-quick, too. After which the +lucky individual sold out and went home, to live in comfort. Yes, that +was a point, and not to be overlooked. No definite surrender of one's +hopes was called for; only a postponement. Ten years might do it--meaty +years, of course, the best years of one's life--still .... It would +mean very hard work; but had he not just been contemplating, with +perfect equanimity, an even more arduous venture on the other side? +What a capricious piece of mechanism was the human brain! + +Another thought that occurred to him was that his services might prove +more useful to this new country than to the old, where able men +abounded. He recalled many good lives and promising cases he had here +seen lost and bungled. To take the instance nearest home--Polly's +confinement. Yes, to show his mettle to such as Rogers; to earn respect +where he had lived as a mere null--the idea had an insidious +fascination. And as Polly sagely remarked: if it were not he, it would +be some one else; another would harvest the KUDOS that might have been +his. For the rough-and-ready treatment--the blue pills and black +draughts--that had satisfied the early diggers had fallen into +disrepute; medical skill was beginning to be appreciated. If this went +on, Ballarat would soon stand on a level with any city of its size at +home. But even as it was, he had never been quite fair to it; he had +seen it with a jaundiced eye. And again he believed Polly hit the nail +on the head, when she asserted that the poor position he had occupied +was responsible for much of his dislike. + +But there was something else at work in him besides. Below the surface +an admission awaited him, which he shrank from making. All these pros +and cons, these quibbles and hair-splittings were but a misfit attempt +to cloak the truth. He might gull himself with them for a time: in his +heart he knew that he would yield--if yield he did--because he was by +nature only too prone to follow the line of least resistance. What he +had gone through to-night was no new experience. Often enough after +fretting and fuming about a thing till it seemed as if nothing under +the sun had ever mattered so much to him, it could happen that he +suddenly threw up the sponge and bowed to circumstance. His vitality +exhausted itself beforehand--in a passionate aversion, a torrent of +words--and failed him at the critical moment. It was a weakness in his +blood--in the blood of his race.--But in the present instance, he had +an excuse for himself. He had not known--till Polly came out with her +brother's offer--how he dreaded having to begin all over again in +England, an utter stranger, without influence or recommendations, and +with no money to speak of at his back. + +But now he owned up, and there was no more need of shift or subterfuge: +now it was one rush and hurry to the end. He had capitulated; a +thin-skinned aversion to confronting difficulties, when he saw the +chance of avoiding them, had won the day. He intended--had perhaps the +whole time intended--to take the hand held out to him. After all, why +not? Anyone else, as Polly said, would have jumped at John's offer. He +alone must argue himself blue in the face over it. + +But as he sat and pondered the lengthy chain of circumstance--Polly's +share in it, John's, his own, even the part played by incorporeal +things--he brought up short against the word "decision". He might +flatter himself by imagining he had been free to decide; in reality +nothing was further from the truth. He had been subtly and slily guided +to his goal--led blindfold along a road that not of his choosing. +Everything and every one had combined to constrain him: his favours to +John, the failure of his business, Polly's inclinations and +persuasions, his own fastidious shrinkings. So that, in the end, all he +had had to do was to brush aside a flimsy gossamer veil, which hung +between him and his fate. Was it straining a point to see in the whole +affair the workings of a Power outside himself--against himself, in so +far as it took no count of his poor earth-blind vision? + +Well, if this were so, better still: his ways were in God's hand. And +after all, what did it matter where one strove to serve one's +Maker--east or west or south or north--and whether the stars overhead +were grouped in this constellation or in that? Their light was a pledge +that one would never be overlooked or forgotten, traced by the hand of +Him who had promised to note even a sparrow's fall. And here he spoke +aloud into the darkness the ancient and homely formula that is man's +stand-by in face of the untried, the unknown. + +"If God wills.... God knows best." + + + + + +Part III + + +Chapter I + +The house stood not far from the Great Swamp. It was of weather-board, +with a galvanised iron roof, and might have been built from a child's +drawing of a house: a door in the centre, a little window on either +side, a chimney at each end. Since the ground sloped downwards, the +front part rested on piles some three feet high, and from the rutty +clay-track that would one day be a street wooden steps led up to the +door. Much as Mahony would have liked to face it with a verandah, he +did not feel justified in spending more than he could help. And Polly +not only agreed with him, but contrived to find an advantage in the +plainer style of architecture. "Your plate will be better seen, +Richard, right on the street, than hidden under a verandah." But then +Polly was overflowing with content. Had not two of the rooms +fireplaces? And was there not a wash-house, with a real copper in it, +behind the detached kitchen? Not to speak of a spare room!--To the rear +of the house a high paling-fence enclosed a good-sized yard. Mahony +dreamed of a garden, Polly of keeping hens. + +There were no two happier people on Ballarat that autumn than the +Mahonys. To and fro they trudged down the hill, across the Flat, over +the bridge and up the other side; first, through a Sahara of dust, +then, when the rains began, ankle-deep in gluey red mud. And the +building of the finest mansion never gave half so much satisfaction as +did that of this flimsy little wooden house, with its thin +lath-and-plaster walls. In fancy they had furnished it and lived in it, +long before it was even roofed in. Mahony sat at work in his +surgery--it measured ten by twelve--Polly at her Berlin-woolwork in the +parlour opposite: "And a cage with a little parrot in it, hanging at +the window." + +The preliminaries to the change had gone smoothly enough--Mahony could +not complain. Pleasant they had not been; but could the arranging and +clinching of a complicated money-matter ever be pleasant? He had had to +submit to hearing his private affairs gone into by a stranger; to make +clear to strangers his capacity for earning a decent income. + +With John's promissory letter in his pocket, he had betaken himself to +Henry Ocock's office. + +This, notwithstanding its excellent position on the brow of the western +hill, could not deny its humble origin as a livery-barn. The entry was +by a yard; and some of the former horse-boxes had been rudely knocked +together to provide accommodation. Mahony sniffed stale dung. + +In what had once been the harness-room, two young men sat at work. + +"Why, Tom, my lad, you here?" + +Tom Ocock raised his freckled face, from the chin of which sprouted +some long fair hairs, and turned red. + +"Yes, it's me. Do you want to see 'En--" at an open kick from his +brother--"Mr. Ocock?" + +"If you please." + +Informed by Grindle that the "Captain" was at liberty, Mahony passed to +an inner room where he was waved to a chair. In answer to his statement +that he had called to see about raising some money, Ocock returned an: +"Indeed? Money is tight, sir, very tight!" his face instantly taking on +the blank-wall solemnity proper to dealings with this world's main +asset. + +Mahony did not at once hand over John's way-soothing letter. He thought +he would first test the lawyer's attitude towards him in person--a +species of self-torment men of his make are rarely able to withstand. +He spoke of the decline of his business; of his idea of setting up as a +doctor and building himself a house; and, as he talked, he read his +answer pat and clear in the ferrety eyes before him. There was a bored +tolerance of his wordiness, an utter lack of interest in the concerns +of the petty tradesman. + +"H'm." Ocock, lying back in his chair, was fitting five outstretched +fingers to their fellows. "All very well, my good sir, but may I ask if +you have anyone in view as a security?" + +"I have. May I trouble you to glance through this?" and triumphantly +Mahony brandished John's letter. + +Ocock raised his brows. "What? Mr. John Turnham? Ah, very good ... very +good indeed!" The brazen-faced change in his manner would have made a +cat laugh; he sat upright, was interested, courteous, alert. "Quite in +order! And now, pray, how much do we need?" + +Unadvised, he had not been able, said Mahony, to determine the sum. So +Ocock took pencil and paper, and, prior to running off a reckoning, put +him through a sharp interrogation. Under it Mahony felt as though his +clothing was being stripped piece by piece off his back. At one moment +he stood revealed as mean and stingy, at another as an unpractical +spendthrift. More serious things came out besides. He began to see, +under the limelight of the lawyer's inquiry, in what a muddle-headed +fashion he had managed his business, and how unlikely it was he could +ever have made a good thing of it. Still worse was his thoughtless +folly in wedding and bringing home a young wife without, in this +settlement where accident was rife, where fires were of nightly +occurrence, insuring against either fire or death. Not that Ocock +breathed a hint of censure: all was done with a twist of the eye, a +purse of the lip; but it was enough for Mahony. He sat there, feeling +like an eel in the skinning, and did not attempt to keep pace with the +lawyer, who hunted figures into the centre of a woolly maze. + +The upshot of these calculations was: he would need help to the tune of +something over one thousand pounds. As matters stood at present on +Ballarat, said Ocock, the plainest house he could build would cost him +eight hundred; and another couple of hundred would go in furnishing; +while a saddle-horse might be put down at fifty pounds. On Turnham's +letter he, Ocock, would be prepared to borrow seven hundred for +him--and this could probably be obtained at ten per cent on a mortgage +of the house; and a further four hundred, for which he would have to +pay twelve or fifteen. Current expenses must be covered by the residue +of this savings, and by what he was able to make. They would include +the keep of the horse, and the interest on the borrowed money, which +might be reckoned roughly at a hundred and twenty per annum. In +addition, he would be well advised to insure his life for five to seven +hundred pounds. + +The question also came up whether the land he had selected for building +on should be purchased or not. He was for doing so, for settling the +whole business there and then. Ocock, however, took the opposite view. +Considering, said he, that the site chosen was far from the centre of +the town, Mahony might safely postpone buying in the meanwhile. There +had been no government land-sales of late, and all main-road frontages +had still to come under the hammer. As occupier, when the time arrived, +he would have first chance at the upset price; though then, it was +true, he would also be liable for improvements. The one thing he must +beware of was of enclosing too small a block. + +Mahony agreed--agreed to everything: the affair seemed to have passed +out of his hands. A sense of dismay invaded him while he listened to +the lawyer tick off the obligations and responsibilities he was letting +himself in for. A thousand pounds! He to run into debt for such a sum, +who had never owed a farthing to anyone! He fell to doubting whether, +after all, he had made choice of the easier way, and lapsed into a +gloomy silence. + +Ocock on the other hand warmed to geniality. + +"May I say, doctor, how wise I think your decision to come over to +us?"--He spoke as if Ballarat East were in the heart of the Russian +steppes. "And that reminds me. There's a friend of mine.... I may be +able at once to put a patient in your way." + +Mahony walked home in a mood of depression which it took all Polly's +arts to dispel. + +Under its influence he wrote an outspoken letter to Purdy--but with no +very satisfactory result. It was like projecting a feeler for sympathy +into the void, so long was it since they had met, and so widely had his +friend's life branched from his. + +Purdy's answer--it was headed "The Ovens"--did not arrive till several +weeks later, and was mainly about himself. + + +IN A WAY I'M WITH YOU, OLD PILL-BOX, he wrote. YOU'LL CUT A JOLLY SIGHT +BETTER FIGURE AS AN M.D. THEN EVER YOU'VE DONE BEHIND A COUNTER. BUT I +DON'T KNOW THAT I'D CARE TO STAKE MY LAST DOLLAR ON YOU ALL THE SAME. +WHAT DOES MRS. POLLY SAY?--AS FOR ME, OLD BOY, SINCE YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH +TO ASK, WHY THE LESS SAID THE BETTER. ONE OF THESE DAYS A POOR WORN OLD +SHICER'LL COME CRAWLING ROUND TO YOUR BACK DOOR TO SEE IF YOU'VE ANY +CAST-OFF DUDS YOU CAN SPARE HIM. SERIOUSLY, DICK, OLD MAN, I'M +STONY-BROKE ONCE MORE AND THE LORD ONLY KNOWS HOW I'M GOING TO WIN +THROUGH. + + +In the course of that winter, custom died a natural death; and one day, +the few oddments that remained having been sold by auction, Mahony and +his assistant nailed boards horizontally across the entrance to the +store. The day of weighing out pepper and salt was over; never again +would the tinny jangle of the accursed bell smite his ears. The next +thing was that Hempel packed his chattels and departed for his new walk +in life. Mahony was not sorry to see him go. Hempel's thoughts had +soared far above the counter; he was arrived at the stage of: "I'm just +as good as you!" which everyone here reached sooner or later. + +"I shall always be pleased to hear how you are getting on." + +Mahony spoke kindly, but in a tone which, as Polly who stood by, very +well knew, people were apt to misunderstand. + +"I should think so!" she chimed in. "I shall feel very hurt indeed, +Hempel, if you don't come and see us." + +With regard to Long Jim, she had a talk with her husband one night as +they went to bed. + +"There really won't be anything for him to do in the new house. No +heavy crates or barrels to move about. And he doesn't know a thing +about horses. Why not let him go home?--he does so want to. What would +you say, dear, to giving him thirty pounds for his passage-money and a +trifle in his pocket? It would make him very happy, and he'd be off +your hands for good.--Of course, though, just as you think best." + +"We shall need every penny we can scrape together, for ourselves, +Polly. And yet, my dear, I believe you're right. In the new house, as +you say, he'll be a mere encumbrance. As for me, I'd be only too +thankful never to hear his cantankerous old pipe again. I don't know +now what evil genius prompted me to take him in." + +"Evil genius, indeed!" retorted Polly. "You did it because you're a +dear, good, kind-hearted man." + +"Think so, wifey? I'm inclined to put it down to sheer dislike of +botheration--Irish inertia ... the curse of our race." + +"Yes, yes, I knoo you'd be wantin' to get rid o' me, now you're goin' +up in the world," was Long Jim's answer when Polly broached her scheme +for his benefit. "Well, no, I won't say anythin' against you, Mrs. +Mahony; you've treated me square enough. But doc., 'e's always thought +'imself a sight above one, an' when 'e does, 'e lets you feel it." + +This was more than Polly could brook. "And sighing and groaning as you +have done to get home, Jim! You're a silly, ungrateful old man, even to +hint at such a thing." + +"Poor old fellow, he's grumbled so long now, that he's forgotten how to +do anything else," she afterwards made allowance for him. And added, +pierced by a sudden doubt: "I hope his wife will still be used to it, +or ... or else ..." + +And now the last day in the old house was come. The furniture, stacked +in the yard, awaited the dray that was to transport it. Hardly worth +carrying with one, thought Mahony, when he saw the few poor sticks +exposed to the searching sunlight. Pipe in mouth he mooned about, +feeling chiefly amazed that he could have put up, for so long, with the +miserable little hut which his house, stripped of its trimmings, proved +to be. + +His reflections were cut short by old Ocock, who leaned over the fence +to bid his neighbours good-bye. + +"No disturbance! Come in, come in!" cried Mahony, with the rather +spurious heartiness one is prone to throw into a final invitation. And +Polly rose from her knees before a clothes-basket which she was filling +with crockery, and bustled away to fetch the cake she had baked for +such an occasion. + +"I'll miss yer bright little face, that I will!" said Mr. Ocock, as he +munched with the relish of a Jerry or a Ned. He held his slice of cake +in the hollow of one great palm, conveying with extreme care the pieces +he broke off to his mouth. + +"You must come and see us, as soon as ever we're settled." + +"Bless you! You'll soon find grander friends than an old chap like me." + +"Mr. Ocock! And you with three sons in the law!" + +"Besides, mark my words, it'll be your turn next to build," Mahony +removed his pipe to throw in. "We'll have you over with us yet." + +"And what a lovely surprise for Miss Amelia when she arrives, to find a +bran'-new house awaiting her." + +"Well, that's the end of this little roof-tree," said Mahony.--The +loaded dray had driven off, the children and Ellen perched on top of +the furniture, and he was giving a last look round. "We've spent some +very happy days under it, eh, my dear?" + +"Oh, very," said Polly, shaking out her skirts. "But we shall be just +as happy in the new one." + +"God grant we may! It's not too much to hope I've now seen all the +downs of my life. I've managed to pack a good many into thirty short +years.-- And that reminds me, Mrs. Townshend-Mahony, do you know you +will have been married to me two whole years, come next Friday?" + +"Why, so we shall!" cried Polly, and was transfixed in the act of tying +her bonnet-strings. "How time does fly! It seems only the other day I +saw this room for the first time. I peeped in, you know, while you were +fetching the box. DO you remember how I cried, Richard? I was afraid of +a spider or something." And the Polly of eighteen looked back, with a +motherly amusement, at her sixteen-year-old eidolon. "But now, dear, if +you're ready ... or else the furniture will get there before we do. +We'd better take the short cut across Soldiers' Hill. That's the cat in +that basket, for you to carry, and here's your microscope. I've got the +decanter and the best teapot. Shall we go?" + + + + +Chapter II + +And now for a month or more Mahony had been in possession of a room +that was all his own. Did he retire into it and shut the door, he could +make sure of not being disturbed. Polly herself tapped before entering; +and he let her do so. Polly was dear; but dearer still was his +long-coveted privacy. + +He knew, too, that she was happily employed; the fitting-up and +furnishing of the house was a job after her own heart. She had proved +both skilful and economical at it: thanks to her, they had used a bare +three-quarters of the sum allotted by Ocock for the purpose--and this +was well; for any number of unforeseen expenses had cropped up at the +last moment. Polly had a real knack for making things "do". Old empty +boxes, for instance, underwent marvellous transformations at her +hands--emerged, clad in chintz and muslin, as sofas and toilet-tables. +She hung her curtains on strings, and herself sewed the seams of the +parlour carpet, squatting Turk-fashion on the floor, and working away, +with a great needle shaped like a scimitar, till the perspiration ran +down her face. It was also she who, standing on the kitchen-table, put +up the only two pictures they possessed, Ned and Jerry giving opinions +on the straightness of her eye, from below: a fancy picture of the +Battle of Waterloo in the parlour; a print of "Harvey Discovering the +Circulation of the Blood" on the surgery wall. + +From where he sat Mahony could hear the voices of the children--John's +children--at play. They frolicked with Pompey in the yard. He could +endure them, now that he was not for ever tumbling over them. Yes, one +and all were comfortably established under the new roof--with the +exception of poor Palmerston the cat. Palmerston had declined to +recognise the change, and with the immoderate homing-instinct of his +kind had returned night after night to his old haunts. For some time +Mahony's regular evening walk was back to the store--a road he would +otherwise not have taken; for it was odious to him to see Polly's neat +little appointments going to rack and ruin, under the tenancy of a +dirty Irish family. There he would find the animal sitting, in +melancholy retrospect. Again and again he picked him up and carried him +home; till that night when no puss came to his call, and Palmerston, +the black and glossy, was seen no more: either he had fallen down a +shaft, or been mangled by a dog, or stolen, cats still fetching a high +price on Ballarat. + +The window of Mahony's room faced a wide view: not a fence, hardly a +bit of scrub or a tuft of grass-tree marked the bare expanse of uneven +ground, now baked brown as a piecrust by the December sun. He looked +across it to the cemetery. This was still wild and unfenced--just a +patch of rising ground where it was permissible to bury the dead. Only +the day before--the second anniversary of the Eureka Stockade--he had +watched some two to three hundred men, with crepe on their hats and +sleeves, a black-draped pole at their head, march there to do homage to +their fallen comrades. The dust raised by the shuffling of these many +feet had accompanied the procession like a moving cloud; had lingered +in its rear like the smoke from a fire. Drays and lorries crawled for +ever laboriously along it, seeming glued to the earth by the monstrous +sticky heat of the veiled sun. Further back rose a number of bald +hills--rounded, swelling hills, shaped like a woman's breasts. And +behind all, pale china-blue against the tense white sky, was the +embankment of the distant ranges. Except for these, an ugly, uninviting +outlook, and one to which he seldom lifted his eyes. + +His room pleased him better. Polly had stretched a bright green drugget +on the floor; the table had a green cloth on it; the picture showed up +well against the whitewashed wall. Behind him was a large deal +cupboard, which held instruments and drugs. The bookshelves with their +precious burden were within reach of his hand; on the top shelf he had +stacked the boxes containing his botanical and other specimens. + +The first week or so there was naturally little doing: a sprained wrist +to bandage, a tooth to draw, a case of fly-blight. To keep himself from +growing fidgety, he overhauled his minerals and butterflies, and +renewed faded labels. This done, he went on to jot down some ideas he +had, with regard to the presence of auriferous veins in quartz. It was +now generally agreed that quartz was the matrix; but on the question of +how the gold had found its way into the rock, opinions were sharply +divided. The theory of igneous injection was advanced by some; others +inclined to that of sublimation. Mahony leaned to a combination of the +two processes, and spent several days getting his thoughts in order; +while Polly, bursting with pride, went about on tiptoe audibly hushing +the children: their uncle was writing for the newspapers. + +Still no patients worth the name made their appearance. To fend off the +black worry that might get the better of him did he sit idle, he next +drew his Bible to him, and set about doing methodically what he had so +far undertaken merely by fits and starts--deciding for himself to what +degree the Scriptures were inspired. Polly was neither proud nor happy +while this went on, and let the children romp unchecked. At present it +was not so much the welfare of her husband's soul she feared for: God +must surely know by this time what a good man Richard was; he had not +his equal, she thought, for honesty and uprightness; he was kind to the +poor and the sick, and hadn't missed a single Sunday at church, since +their marriage. But all that would not help, if once he got the +reputation of being an infidel. Then, nobody would want him as a doctor +at all. + +Casually begun, Mahony's studies soon absorbed him to the exclusion of +everything else. + +Brought up in the cast-iron mould of Irish Protestantism, to which, +being of a sober and devout turn of mind, he had readily submitted, he +had been tossed, as a youthful student, into the freebooting Edinburgh +of the forties. Edinburgh was alive in those days to her very +paving-stones; town and university combined to form a hotbed of +intellectual unrest, a breeding-ground for disturbing possibilities. +The "development theory" was in the air; and a book that appeared +anonymously had boldly voiced, in popular fashion, Maillet's dream and +the Lamarckian hypothesis of a Creation undertaken once and for all, in +place of a continuous creative intenention. This book, opposing natural +law to miracle, carried complete conviction to the young and eager. +Audacious spirits even hazarded the conjecture that primitive life +itself might have originated in a natural way: had not, but recently, +an investigator who brought a powerful voltaic battery to bear on a +saturated solution of silicate of potash, been startled to find, as the +result of his experiment, numberless small mites of the species ACARUS +HORRIDUS? Might not the marvel electricity or galvanism, in action on +albumen, turn out to be the vitalising force? To the orthodox +zoologist, phytologist and geologist, such a suggestion savoured of +madness; they either took refuge in a contemptuous silence, or +condescended only to reply: Had one visited the Garden of Eden during +Creation, one would have found that, in the morning, man was not, while +in the evening he was!--morning and evening bearing their newly +established significance of geological epochs. The famous tracing of +the Creator's footsteps, undertaken by a gifted compromiser, was felt +by even the most bigoted to be a lame rejoinder. His ASTEROLEPSIS, the +giant fossil-fish from the Old Red Sandstone, the antiquity of which +should show that the origin of life was not to be found solely in +"infusorial points," but that highly developed forms were among the +earliest created--this single prop was admittedly not strong enough to +carry the whole burden of proof. No, the immutability of species had +been seriously impugned, and bold minds asked themselves why a single +act of creation, at the outset, should not constitute as divine an +origin of life as a continued series of "creative fiats." + +Mahony was one of them. The "development theory" did not repel him. He +could see no impiety in believing that life, once established on the +earth, had been left to perfect itself. Or hold that this would +represent the Divine Author of all things as, after one master-stroke, +dreaming away eternal ages in apathy and indifference. Why should the +perfect functioning of natural law not be as convincing an expression +of God's presence as a series of cataclysmic acts of creation? + +None the less it was a time of crisis, for him, as for so many. For, if +this were so, if science spoke true that, the miracle of life set +a-going, there had been no further intervention on the part of the +Creator, then the very head-and-corner stone of the Christian faith, +the Bible itself, was shaken. More, much more would have to go than the +Mosaic cosmogony of the first chapter of Genesis. Just as the Elohistic +account of creation had been stretched to fit the changed views of +geologists, so the greater part of the scriptural narratives stood in +need of a wider interpretation. The fable of the Eternal's personal +mediation in the affairs of man must be accepted for what it was--a +beautiful allegory, the fondly dreamed fulfilment of a world-old +desire. And bringing thus a sharpened critical sense to bear on the +Scriptures, Mahony embarked on his voyage of discovery. Before him, but +more as a warning than a beacon, shone the example of a famous German +savant, who, taking our Saviour's life as his theme, demolished the +sacred idea of a Divine miracle, and retold the Gospel story from a +rationalistic standpoint. A savagely unimaginative piece of work this, +thought Mahony, and one that laid all too little weight on the deeps of +poetry, the mysteries of symbols, and the power the human mind drew +from these, to pierce to an ideal truth. His own modest efforts would +be of quite another kind. + +For he sought, not to deny God, but to discover Him anew, by freeing +Him from the drift of error, superstition and dead-letterism which the +centuries had accumulated about Him. Far was it from His servant's mind +to wish to decry the authority of the Book of Books. This he believed +to consist, in great part, of inspired utterances, and, for the rest, +to be the wisest and ripest collection of moral precept and example +that had come down to us from the ages. Without it, one would be +rudderless indeed--a castaway in a cockleshell boat on a furious +sea--and from one's lips would go up a cry like to that wrung from a +famous infidel: "I am affrighted and confounded with the forlorn +solitude in which I am placed by my philosophy ... begin to fancy +myself in the most deplorable condition imaginable, environed by the +deepest darkness." + +No, Mahony was not one of those who held that the Christian faith, that +fine flower of man's spiritual need, would suffer detriment by the +discarding of a few fabulous tales; nor did he fear lest his own faith +should become undermined by his studies. For he had that in him which +told him that God was; and this instinctive certainty would persist, he +believed, though he had ultimately to admit the whole fabric of +Christianity to be based on the Arimathean's dream. It had already +survived the rejection of externals: the surrender of forms, the +assurance that ceremonials were not essential to salvation belonged to +his early student-days. Now, he determined to send by the board the +last hampering relics of bigotry and ritual. He could no longer concede +the tenets of election and damnation. God was a God of mercy, not the +blind, jealous Jahveh of the Jews, or the inhuman Sabbatarian of a +narrow Protestantism. And He might be worshipped anywhere or anyhow: in +any temple built to His name--in the wilderness under the open sky--in +silent prayer, or according to any creed. + +In all this critical readjustment, the thought he had to spare for his +fellow-men was of small account: his fate was not bound to theirs by +the altruism of a later generation. It was a time of intense +individualism; and his efforts towards spiritual emancipation were made +on his own behalf alone. The one link he had with his fellows--if link +it could be termed--was his earnest wish to avoid giving offence: never +would it have occurred to him to noise his heterodoxy abroad. Nor did +he want to disturb other people's convictions. He respected those who +could still draw support from the old faith, and, moreover, had not a +particle of the proselytiser in him. He held that religion was either a +matter of temperament, or of geographical distribution; felt tolerantly +inclined towards the Jews, and the Chinese; and did not even smile at +processions to the Joss-house, and the provisioning of those silent +ones who needed food no more. + +But just as little as he intermeddled with the convictions of others +would he brook interference with his own. It was the concern of no +third person what paths he followed in his journeyings after the +truth--in his quest for a panacea for the ills and delusions of life. +For, call it what he would--Biblical criticism, scientific +inquiry--this was his aim first and last. He was trying to pierce the +secret of existence--to rede the riddle that has never been +solved.--What am I? Whence have I come? Whither am I going? What +meaning has the pain I suffer, the evil that men do? Can evil be +included in God's scheme?--And it was well, he told himself, as he +pressed forward, that the flame in him burnt unwaveringly, which +assured him of his kinship with the Eternal, of the kinship of all +created things; so unsettling and perplexing were the conclusions at +which he arrived. + +Summoned to dinner, he sat at table with stupid hands and evasive eyes. +Little Johnny, who was, as Polly put it, "as sharp as mustard," was +prompt to note his uncle's vacancy. + +"What you staring at, Nunkey?" he demanded, his mouth full of +roly-pudding, which he was stuffing down with all possible dispatch. + +"Hush, Johnny. Don't tease your uncle." + +"What do you mean, my boy?" + +"I mean ..." Young John squeezed his last mouthful over his windpipe +and raised his plate. "I mean, you look just like you was seein' a +emeny.--More puddin', Aunt Polly!" + +"What does the child mean? An anemone?" + +"NO!" said John with the immense contempt of five years. "I didn't say +anner emeny." Here, he began to tuck in anew, aiding the slow work of +his spoon with his more habile fingers. "A emeny's d emeny. Like on de +pickshur in Aunt Polly's room. One ... one's de English, an' one's de +emeny." + +"It's the Battle of Waterloo," explained Polly. "He stands in front of +it every day." + +"Yes. An' when I'm a big man, I'm goin' to be a sojer, an' wear a red +coat, an' make 'bung'!" and he shot an imaginary gun at his sister, who +squealed and ducked her head. + +"An ancient wish, my son," said Mahony, when Johnny had been reproved +and Trotty comforted. "Tom-thumbs like you have voiced it since the +world--or rather since war first began." + +"Don't care. Nunkey, why is de English and why is de emeny?" + +But Mahony shrank from the gush of whats and whys he would let loose on +himself, did he attempt to answer this question. "Come, shall uncle +make you some boats to sail in the wash-tub?" + +"Wiv a mast an' sails an' everyfing?" cried John wildly; and throwing +his spoon to the floor, he scrambled from his chair. "Oh yes, +Nunkey--dear Nunkey!" + +"Dea Unkey!" echoed the shadow. + +"Oh, you cupboard lovers, you!" said Mahony as, order restored and +sticky mouths wiped, two pudgy hands were thrust with a new kindness +into his. + +He led the way to the yard; and having whittled out for the children +some chips left by the builders, he lighted his pipe and sat down in +the shade of the house. Here, through a veiling of smoke, which hung +motionless in the hot, still air, he watched the two eager little +mortals before him add their quota to the miracle of life. + + + + +Chapter III + +Polly had no such absorbing occupation to tide her over these empty +days of waiting; and sometimes--especially late in the afternoon, when +her household duties were done, the children safely at play--she found +it beyond her power to stitch quietly at her embroidery. Letting the +canvas fall to her knee, she would listen, listen, listen till the +blood sang in her ears, for the footsteps and knocks at the door that +never came. And did she draw back the window-curtain and look out, +there was not a soul to be seen: not a trace of the string of +prosperous, paying patients she had once imagined winding their way to +the door. + +And meanwhile Richard was shut up in his room, making those dreadful +notes in the Bible which it pinched her heart even to think of. He +really did not seem to care whether he had a practice or not. All the +new instruments, got from Melbourne, lay unused in their casings; and +the horse was eating its head off, at over a pound a week, in the +livery-barn. Polly shrank from censuring her husband, even in thought; +but as she took up her work again, and went on producing in wools a +green basket of yellow fruit on a magenta ground, she could not help +reflecting what she would have done at this pass, had she been a man. +She would have announced the beginning of her practice in big letters +in the STAR, and she would have gone down into the township and mixed +with people and made herself known. With Richard, it was almost as if +he felt averse from bringing himself into public notice. + +Only another month now, and the second instalment of interest would +fall due. Polly did not know exactly what the sum was; but she did know +the date. The first time, they had had no difficulty in meeting the +bill, owing to their economy in furnishing. But what about this one, +and the next again? How were payments to be made, and kept up, if the +patients would not come? + +She wished with all her heart that she was ten years older. For what +could a person who was only eighteen be supposed to understand of +business? Richard's invariable answer, did she venture a word, was not +to worry her little head about such things. + +When, however, another week had dribbled away in the same fashion, +Polly began to be afraid the date of payment had slipped his memory +altogether. She would need to remind him of it, even at the risk of +vexing him. And having cast about for a pretext to intrude, she decided +to ask his advice on a matter that was giving her much uneasiness; +though, had he been REALLY busy, she would have gone on keeping it to +herself. + +It related to little Johnny. + +Johnny was a high-spirited, passionate child, who needed most careful +handling. At first she had managed him well enough. But ever since his +five months' boarding-out, he had fallen into deceitful ways; and the +habit of falsehood was gaining on him. Bad by nature, Polly felt sure +the child was not; but she could not keep him on the straight path now +he had discovered that a lie might save him a punishment. He was not to +be shamed out of telling it; and the only other cure Polly knew of was +whipping. She whipped him; and provoked him to fury. + +A new misdeed on his part gave her the handle she sought. Johnny had +surreptitiously entered her pantry and stolen a plateful of cakes. +Taxed with the theft he denied it; and cornered, laid, Adam-like, the +blame on his companion, asserting that Trotty had persuaded him to take +the goodies; though bewildered innocence was writ all over the baby's +chubby face. + +Mahony had the young sinner up before him. But he was able neither to +touch the child's heart, nor to make him see the gravity of what he had +done: never being allowed inside the surgery, John could now not take +his eyes off the wonderful display of gold and purple and red moths, +which were pinned, with outstretched wings, to a sheet of cork. He +stood o-mouthed and absentminded, and only once shot a blue glance at +his uncle to say: "But if dey're so baddy ... den why did God MAKE lies +an' de debble?"--which intelligent query hit the nail of one of +Mahony's own misgivings on the head. + +No real depravity, was his verdict. Still, too much of a handful, it +was plain, for Polly's inexperience. "A problem for John himself to +tackle, my dear. Why should we have to drill a non-existent morality +into his progeny? Besides, I'm not going to have you blamed for bad +results, later on." He would write to John there and then, and request +that Johnny be removed from their charge. + +Polly was not prepared for this summary solution of her dilemma, and +began to regret having brought it up; though she could not but agree +with Richard that it would never do for the younger child to be +corrupted by a bad example. However she kept her wits about her. Did +John take the boy away, said she, she was afraid she would have to ask +for a larger housekeeping allowance. The withdrawal of the money for +Johnny's board would make a difference to their income. + +"Of course," returned Mahony easily, and was about to dismiss the +subject. + +But Polly stood her ground. "Talking of money, Richard, I don't know +whether you remember ... you've been so busy ... that it's only about a +fortnight now till the second lot of interest falls due." + +"What!--a fortnight?" exclaimed her husband, and reached out for an +almanack. "Good Lord, so it is! And nothing doing yet, Polly ... +absolutely nothing!" + +"Well, dear, you can't expect to jump into a big practice all at once, +can you? But you see, I think the trouble is, not nearly enough people +know you've started." And a little imploringly, and very +apologetically, Polly unfolded her artless schemes for +self-advertisement. + +"Wife, I've a grave suspicion!" said Mahony, and took her by the chin. +"While I've sat here with my head in the clouds, you've been worrying +over ways and means, and over having such an unpractical old dreamer +for a husband. Now, child, that won't do. I didn't marry to have my +girl puzzling her little brains where her next day's dinner was to come +from. Away with you, to your stitching! Things will be all right, trust +to me." + +And Polly did trust him, and was so satisfied with what she had +effected that, raising her face for a kiss, she retired with an easy +mind to overhaul Johnny's little wardrobe. + +But the door having clicked behind her, Mahony's air of forced +assurance died away. For an instant he hesitated beside the table, on +which a rampart of books lay open, then vigorously clapped each volume +to and moved to the window, chewing at the ends of his beard. A timely +interruption! What the dickens had he been about, to forget himself in +this fool's paradise, when the crassest of material anxieties--that of +pounds, shillings and pence--was crouched, wolf-like, at his door? + +That night he wakened with a jerk from an uneasy sleep. Though at noon +the day before, the thermometer had registered over a hundred in the +shade, it was now bitterly cold, and these abrupt changes of +temperature always whipped up his nerves. Even after he had piled his +clothes and an opossum-rug on top of the blankets, he could not drop +off again. He lay staring at the moonlit square of the window, and +thinking the black thoughts of night. + +What if he could not manage to work up a practice? ... found it +impossible to make a living? His plate had been on the door for close +on two months now, and he had barely a five-pound note to show for it. +What was to be done? Here Polly's words came back to him with new +stress. "Not nearly enough people know you've started." That was +it!--Polly had laid her finger on the hitch. The genteel manners of the +old country did not answer here; instead of sitting twiddling his +thumbs, waiting for patients to seek him out, he ought to have adopted +the screaming methods of advertisement in vogue on Ballarat. To have +had "Holloway's Pills sold here!" "Teeth extracted painlessly!" "Cures +guaranteed!" painted man-high on his outside house-wall. To have gone +up and down and round the township; to have been on the spot when +accidents happened; to have hobnobbed with Tom, Dick and Harry in bars +and saloons. And he saw a figure that looked like his the centre of a +boisterous crowd; saw himself slapped on the back by dirty hands, +shouting and shouted to drinks. He turned his pillow, to drive the +image away. Whatever he had done or not done, the fact remained that a +couple of weeks hence he had to make up the sum of over thirty pounds. +And again he discerned a phantom self, this time a humble supplicant +for an extension of term, brought up short against Ocock's stony +visage, flouted by his cocksy clerk. Once more he turned his pillow. +These quarterly payments, which dotted all his coming years, were like +little rock-islands studding the surface of an ocean, and telling of +the sunken continent below: this monstrous thousand odd pounds he had +been fool enough to borrow. Never would he be able to pay off such a +sum, never again be free from the incubus of debt. Meanwhile, not the +ground he stood on, not the roof over his head could actually be called +his own. He had also been too pushed for money, at the time, to take +Ocock's advice and insure his life. + +These thoughts spun themselves to a nightmare-web, in which he was the +hapless fly. Putting a finger to his wrist, he found he had the pulse +of a hundred that was not uncommon to him. He got out of bed, to dowse +his head in a basin of water. Polly, only half awake, sat up and said: +"What's the matter, dear? Are you ill?" In replying to her he disturbed +the children, the door of whose room stood ajar; and by the time quiet +was restored, further sleep was out of the question. He dressed and +quitted the house. + +Day was breaking; the moon, but an hour back a globe of polished +silver, had now no light left in her, and stole, a misty ghost, across +the dun-coloured sky. A bank of clouds that had had their night-camp on +the summit of Mount Warrenheip was beginning to disperse; and the air +had lost its edge. He walked out beyond the cemetary, then sat down on +a tree-stump and looked back. The houses that nestled on the slope were +growing momently whiter; but the Flat was still sunk in shadow and +haze, making old Warrenheip, for all its half-dozen miles of distance, +seem near enough to be touched by hand. But even in full daylight this +woody peak had a way of tricking the eye. From the brow of the western +hill, with the Flat out of sight below, it appeared to stand at the +very foot of those streets that headed east--first of one, then of +another, moving with you as you changed position, like the eyes of a +portrait that follow you wherever you go.--And now the sky was streaked +with crimson-madder; the last clouds scattered, drenched in orange and +rose, and flames burned in the glass of every window-pane. Up came the +tip of the sun's rim, grew to a fiery quarter, to a half; till, +bounding free from the horizon, it began to mount and to lose its girth +in the immensity of the sky. + +The phantasms of the night yielded like the clouds to its power. He was +still reasonably young, reasonably sound, and had the better part of a +lifetime before him. Rising with a fresh alacrity, he whistled to his +dog, and walked briskly home to bath and breakfast. + +But that evening, at the heel of another empty day, his nervous +restlessness took him anew. From her parlour Polly could hear the thud +of his feet, going up and down, up and down his room. And it was she +who was to blame for disturbing him! + +"Yet what else could I do?" + +And meditatively pricking her needle in and out of the window-curtain, +Polly fell into a reverie over her husband and his ways. How strange +Richard was ... how difficult! First, to be able to forget all about +how things stood with him, and then to be twice as upset as other +people. + +John demanded the immediate delivery of his young son, undertaking soon +to knock all nasty tricks out of him. On the day fixed for Johnny's +departure husband and wife were astir soon after dawn. Mahony was to +have taken the child down to the coach-office. But Johnny had been +awake since two o'clock with excitement, and was now so fractious that +Polly tied on her bonnet and accompanied them. She knew Richard's +hatred of a scene. + +"You just walk on, dear, and get his seat," she said, while she dragged +the cross, tired child on her hand to the public-house, where even at +this hour a posse of idlers hung about. + +And she did well to be there. Instantly on arriving Johnny set up a +wail, because there was talk of putting him inside the vehicle; and +this persisted until the coachman, a goat-bearded Yankee, came to the +rescue and said he was darned if such a plucky young nipper shouldn't +get his way: he'd have the child tied on beside him on the box-seat--be +blowed if he wouldn't! But even this did not satisfy Johnny; and while +Mahony went to procure a length of rope, he continued to prance round +his aunt and to tug ceaselessly at her sleeve. + +"Can I dwive, Aunt Polly, can I dwive? Ask him, can I dwive!" he +roared, beating her skirts with his fists. He was only silenced by the +driver threatening to throw him as a juicy morsel to the gang of +bushrangers who, sure as blazes, would be waiting to stick the coach up +directly it entered the bush. + +Husband and wife lingered to watch the start, when the champing horses +took a headlong plunge forward and, together with the coach, were +swallowed up in a whirlwind of dust. A last glimpse discovered Johnny, +pale and wide-eyed at the lurching speed, but sitting bravely erect. + +"The spirit of your brother in that child, my dear!" said Mahony as +they made to walk home. + +"Poor little Johnny," and Polly wiped her eyes. "If only he was going +back to a mother who loved him, and would understand." + +"I'm sure no mother could have done more for him than you, love." + +"Yes, but a real mother wouldn't need to give him up, however naughty +he had been." + +"I think the young varmint might have shown some regret at parting from +you, after all this time," returned her husband, to whom it was +offensive if even a child was lacking in good feeling. "He never turned +his head. Well, I suppose it's a fact, as they say, that the natural +child is the natural barbarian." + +"Johnny never meant any harm. It was I who didn't know how to manage +him," said Polly staunchly.--"Why, Richard, what IS the matter?" For +letting her arm fall Mahony had dashed to the other side of the road. + +"Good God, Polly, look at this!" + +"This" was a printed notice, nailed to a shed, which announced that a +sale of frontages in Mair and Webster Streets would shortly be held. + +"But it's not our road. I don't understand." + +"Good Lord, don't you see that if they're there already, they'll be out +with us before we can say Jack Robinson? And then where shall I be?" +gave back Mahony testily. + +"Let us talk it over. But first come home and have breakfast. Then ... +yes, then, I think you should go down and see Mr. Henry, and hear what +he says." + +"You're right. I must see Ocock.--Confound the fellow! It's he who has +let me in for this." + +"And probably he'll know some way out. What else is a lawyer for, dear?" + +"Quite true, my Polly. None the less, it looks as if I were in for a +run of real bad luck, all along the line." + + + + +Chapter IV + +One hot morning some few days later, Polly, with Trotty at her side, +stood on the doorstep shading her eyes with her hand. She was on the +look-out for her "vegetable man," who drove in daily from the Springs +with his greenstuff. He was late as usual: if Richard would only let +her deal with the cheaper, more punctual Ah Sing, who was at this +moment coming up the track. But Devine was a reformed character: after, +as a digger, having squandered a fortune in a week, he had given up the +drink and, backed by a hard-working, sober wife, was now trying to earn +a living at market-gardening. So he had to be encouraged. + +The Chinaman jog-trotted towards them, his baskets a-sway, his mouth +stretched to a friendly grin. "You no want cabbagee to-day? Me got +velly good cabbagee," he said persuasively and lowered his pole. + +"No thank you, John, not to-day. Me wait for white man." + +"Me bling pleasant for lilly missee," said the Chow; and unknotting a +dirty nosecloth, he drew from it an ancient lump of candied ginger. +"Lilly missee eatee him ... oh, yum, yum! Velly good. My word!" + +But Chinamen to Trotty were fearsome bogies, corresponding to the +swart-faced, white-eyed chimney-sweeps of the English nursery. She hid +behind her aunt, holding fast to the latter's skirts, and only stealing +an occasional peep from one saucer-like blue eye. + +"Thank you, John. Me takee chowchow for lilly missee," said Polly, who +had experience in disposing of such savoury morsels. + +"You no buy cabbagee to-day?" repeated Ah Sing, with the catlike +persistence of his race. And as Polly, with equal firmness and +good-humour, again shook her head, he shouldered his pole and departed +at a half-run, crooning as he went. + +Meanwhile at the bottom of the road another figure had come into view. +It was not Devine in his spring-cart; it was some one on horseback, was +a lady, in a holland habit. The horse, a piebald, advanced at a sober +pace, and--"Why, good gracious! I believe she's coming here." + +At the first of the three houses the rider had dismounted, and knocked +at the door with the butt of her whip. After a word with the woman who +opened, she threw her riding-skirt over one arm, put the other through +the bridle, and was now making straight for them. + +As she drew near she smiled, showing a row of white teeth. "Does Dr. +Mahony live here?" + +Misfortune of misfortunes!--Richard was out. + +But almost instantly Polly grasped that this would tell in his favour. +"He won't be long, I know." + +"I wonder," said the lady, "if he would come out to my house when he +gets back? I am Mrs Glendinning--of Dandaloo." + +Polly flushed, with sheer satisfaction: Dandaloo was one of the largest +stations in the neighbourhood of Ballarat. "Oh, I'm certain he will," +she answered quickly. + +"I am so glad you think so," said Mrs. Glendinning. "A mutual friend, +Mr. Henry Ocock, tells me how clever he is." + +Polly's brain leapt at the connection; on the occasion of Richard's +last visit the lawyer had again repeated the promise to put a patient +in his way. Ocock was one of those people, said Richard, who only +remembered your existence when he saw you.--Oh, what a blessing in +disguise had been that troublesome old land sale! + +The lady had stooped to Trotty, whom she was trying to coax from her +lurking-place. "What a darling! How I envy you!" + +"Have you no children?" Polly asked shyly, when Trotty's relationship +had been explained. + +"Yes, a boy. But I should have liked a little girl of my own. Boys are +so difficult," and she sighed. + +The horse nuzzling for sugar roused Polly to a sense of her remissness. +"Won't you come in and rest a little, after your ride?" she asked; and +without hesitation Mrs. Glendinning said she would like to, very much +indeed; and tying the hone to the fence, she followed Polly into the +house. + +The latter felt proud this morning of its apple-pie order. She drew up +the best armchair, placed a footstool before it and herself carried in +a tray with refreshments. Mrs. Glendinning had taken Trotty on her lap, +and given the child her long gold chains to play with. Polly thought +her the most charming creature in the world. She had a slender waist, +and an abundant light brown chignon, and cheeks of a beautiful pink, in +which two fascinating dimples came and went. The feather from her +riding-hat lay on her neck. Her eyes were the colour of forget-me-nots, +her mouth was red as any rose. She had, too, so sweet and natural a +manner that Polly was soon chatting frankly about herself and her life, +Mrs. Glendinning listening with her face pressed to the spun-glass of +Trotty's hair. + +When she rose, she clasped both Polly's hands in hers. "You dear little +woman... may I kiss you? I am ever so much older than you." + +"I am eighteen," said Polly. + +"And I on the shady side of twenty-eight!" + +They laughed and kissed. "I shall ask your husband to bring you out to +see me. And take no refusal. AU REVOIR!" and riding off, she turned in +the saddle and waved her hand. + +For all her pleasurable excitement Polly did not let the grass grow +under her feet. There being still no sign of Richard--he had gone to +Soldiers' Hill to extract a rusty nail from a child's foot--Ellen was +sent to summon him home; and when the girl returned with word that he +was on the way, Polly dispatched her to the livery-barn, to order the +horse to be got ready. + +Richard took the news coolly. "Did she say what the matter was?" + +No, she hadn't; and Polly had not liked to ask her; it could surely be +nothing very serious, or she would have mentioned it. + +"H'm. Then it's probably as I thought. Glendinning's failing is well +known. Only the other day, I heard that more than one medical man had +declined to have anything further to do with the case. It's a long way +out, and fees are not always forthcoming. HE doesn't ask for a doctor, +and, womanlike, she forgets to pay the bills. I suppose they think +they'll try a greenhorn this time." + +Pressed by Polly, who was curious to learn everything about her new +friend, he answered: "I should be sorry to tell you, my dear, how many +bottles of brandy it is Glendinning's boast he can empty in a week." + +"Drink? Oh, Richard, how terrible! And that pretty, pretty woman!" +cried Polly, and drove her thoughts backwards: she had seen no hint of +tragedy in her caller's lovely face. However, she did not wait to +ponder, but asked, a little anxiously: "But you'll go, dear, won't you?" + +"Go? Of course I shall! Beggars can't be choosers." "Besides, you know, +you MIGHT be able to do something where other people have failed." + +Mahony rode out across the Flat. For a couple of miles his route was +one with the Melbourne Road, on which plied the usual motley traffic. +Then, branching off at right angles, it dived into the bush--in this +case a scantly wooded, uneven plain, burnt tobacco-brown and hard as +iron. + +Here went no one but himself. He and the mare were the sole living +creatures in what, for its stillness, might have been a painted +landscape. Not a breath of air stirred the weeping grey-green foliage +of the gums; nor was there any bird-life to rustle the leaves, or peck, +or chirrup. Did he draw rein, the silence was so intense that he could +almost hear it. + +On striking the outlying boundary of Dandaloo, he dismounted to slip a +rail. After that he was in and out of the saddle, his way leading +through numerous gateless paddocks before it brought him up to the +homestead. + +This, a low white wooden building, overspread by a broad verandah--from +a distance it looked like an elongated mushroom--stood on a hill. At +the end, the road had run alongside a well-stocked fruit and +flower-garden; but the hillside itself, except for a gravelled walk in +front of the house, was uncultivated--was given over to dead thistles +and brown weeds. + +Fastening his bridle to a post, Mahony unstrapped his bag of +necessaries and stepped on to the verandah. A row of French windows +stood open; but flexible green sun-blinds hid the rooms from view. The +front door was a French window, too, differing from the rest only in +its size. There was neither bell nor knocker. While he was rapping with +the knuckles on the panel, one of the blinds was pushed aside and Mrs. +Glendinning came out. + +She was still in hat and riding-habit; had herself, she said, reached +home but half an hour ago. Summoning a station-hand to attend to the +horse, she raised a blind and ushered Mahony into the dining-room, +where she had been sitting at lunch, alone at the head of a large +table. A Chinaman brought fresh plates, and Mahony was invited to draw +up his chair. He had an appetite after his ride; the room was cool and +dark; there were no flies. + +Throughout the meal, the lady kept up a running fire of talk--the +graceful chitchat that sits so well on pretty lips. She spoke of the +coming Races; of the last Government House Ball; of the untimely death +of Governor Hotham. To Mahony she instinctively turned a different side +out, from that which had captured Polly. With all her well-bred ease, +there was a womanly deference in her manner, a readiness to be swayed, +to stand corrected. The riding-dress set off her figure; and her +delicate features were perfectly chiselled. ("Though she'll be florid +before she's forty.") + +Some juicy nectarines finished, she pushed back her chair. "And now, +doctor, will you come and see your patient?" + +Mahony followed her down a broad, bare passage. A number of rooms +opened off it, but instead of entering one of these she led him out to +a back verandah. Here, before a small door, she listened with bent +head, then turned the handle and went in. + +The room was so dark that Mahony could see nothing. Gradually he made +out a figure lying on a stretcher-bed. A watcher sat at the bedside. +The atmosphere was more than close, smelt rank and sour. His first +request was for light and air. + +It was the wreck of a fine man that lay there, strapped over the chest, +bound hand and foot to the framework of the bed. The forehead, on which +the hair had receded to a few mean grey wisps, was high and domed, the +features were straight with plenty of bone in them, the shoulders +broad, the arms long. The skin of the face had gone a mahogany brown +from exposure, and a score of deep wrinkles ran out fan-wise from the +corners of the closed lids. Mahony untied the dirty towels that formed +the bandages--they had cut ridges in the limbs they confined--and took +one of the heavy wrists in his hand. + +"How long has he lain like this?" he asked, as he returned the arm to +its place. + +"How long is it, Saunderson?" asked Mrs. Glendinning. She had sat down +on a chair at the foot of the bed; her skirts overflowed the floor. + +The watcher guessed it would be since about the same time yesterday. + +"Was he unusually violent on this occasion?--for I presume such attacks +are not uncommon with him," continued Mahony, who had meanwhile made a +superficial examination of the sick man. + +"I am sorry to say they are only too common, doctor," replied the +lady.--"Was he worse than usual this time, Saunderson?" she turned +again to the man; at which fresh proof of her want of knowledge Mahony +mentally raised his eyebrows. + +"To say trewth, I never see'd the boss so bad before," answered +Saunderson solemnly, grating the palms of the big red hands that hung +down between his knees. "And I've helped him through the jumps more'n +once. It's my opinion it would ha' been a narrow squeak for him this +time, if me and a mate hadn't nipped in and got these bracelets on him. +There he was, ravin' and sweatin' and cursin' his head off, grey as +death. Hell-gate, he called it, said he was devil's-porter at +hell-gate, and kept hollerin' for napkins and his firesticks. Poor ol' +boss! It WAS hell for him and no mistake!" + +By dint of questioning Mahony elicited the fact that Glendinning had +been unseated by a young horse, three days previously. At the time, no +heed was paid to the trifling accident. Later on, however, complaining +of feeling cold and unwell, he went to bed, and after lying wakeful for +some hours was seized by the horrors of delirium. + +Requesting the lady to leave them, Mahony made a more detailed +examination. His suspicions were confirmed: there was internal trouble +of old standing, rendered acute by the fall. Aided by Saunderson, he +worked with restoratives for the best part of an hour. In the end he +had the satisfaction of seeing the coma pass over into a natural repose. + +"Well, he's through this time, but I won't answer for the next," he +said, and looked about him for a basin in which to wash his hands. +"Can't you manage to keep the drink from him?--or at least to limit +him?" + +"Nay, the Almighty Himself couldn't do that," gave back Saunderson, +bringing forward soap and a tin dish. + +"How does it come that he lies in a place like this?" asked Mahony, as +he dried his hands on a corner of the least dirty towel, and glanced +curiously round. The room--in size it did not greatly exceed that of a +ship's-cabin--was in a state of squalid disorder. Besides a deal table +and a couple of chairs, its main contents were rows and piles of old +paper-covered magazines, the thick brown dust on which showed that they +had not been moved for months--or even years. The whitewashed walls +were smoke-tanned and dotted with millions of fly-specks; the dried +corpses of squashed spiders formed large black patches; all four +corners of the ceiling were festooned with cobwebs. + +Saunderson shrugged his shoulders. "This was his den when he first was +manager here, in old Morrison's time, and he's stuck to it ever since. +He shuts himself up in here, and won't have a female cross the +threshold--nor yet Madam G. herself." + +Having given final instructions, Mahony went out to rejoin the lady. + +"I will not conceal from you that your husband is in a very precarious +condition." + +"Do you mean, doctor, he won't live long?" She had evidently been lying +down: one side of her face was flushed and marked. Crying, too, or he +was much mistaken: her lids were red-rimmed, her shapely features +swollen. + +"Ah, you ask too much of me; I am only a woman; I have no influence +over him," she said sadly, and shook her head. + +"What is his age?" + +"He is forty-seven." + +Mahony had put him down for at least ten years older, and said so. But +the lady was not listening: she fidgeted with her lace-edged +handkerchief, looked uneasy, seemed to be in debate with herself. +Finally she said aloud: "Yes, I will." And to him: "Doctor, would you +come with me a moment?" + +This time she conducted him to a well-appointed bedchamber, off which +gave a smaller room, containing a little four-poster draped in dimity. +With a vague gesture in the direction of the bed, she sank on a chair +beside the door. + +Drawing the curtains Mahony discovered a fair-haired boy of some eight +or nine years old. He lay with his head far back, his mouth wide +open--apparently fast asleep. + +But the doctor's eye was quick to see that it was no natural sleep. +"Good God! who is responsible for this?" + +Mrs. Glendinning held her handkerchief to her face. "I have never told +any one before," she wept. "The shame of it, doctor ... is more than I +can bear." + +"Who is the blackguard? Come, answer me, if you please!" + +"Oh, doctor, don't scold me... I am so unhappy." The pretty face +puckered and creased; the full bosom heaved. "He is all I have. And +such a bright, clever little fellow! You will cure him for me, won't +you?" + +"How often has it happened?" + +"I don't know ... about five or six times, I think ... perhaps more. +There's a place not far from here where he can get it ... an old +hut-cook my husband dismissed once, in a fit of temper--he has oh such +a temper! Eddy saddles his pony and rides out there, if he's not +watched; and then ... then, they bring him back ... like this." + +"But who supplies him with money?" + +"Money? Oh, but doctor, he can't be kept without pocket-money! He has +always had as much as he wanted.--No, it is all my husband's +doing,"--and now she broke out in one of those shameless confessions, +from which the medical adviser is never safe. "He hates me; he is only +happy if he can hurt me and humiliate me. I don't care what becomes of +him. The sooner he dies the better!" + +"Compose yourself, my dear lady. Later you may regret such hasty +words.--And what has this to do with the child? Come, speak out. It +will be a relief to you to tell me." + +"You are so kind, doctor," she sobbed, and drank, with hysterical +gurglings, the glass of water Mahony poured out for her. "Yes, I will +tell you everything. It began years ago--when Eddy was only a tot in +jumpers. It used to amuse my husband to see him toss off a glass of +wine like a grown-up person; and it WAS comical, when he sipped it, and +smacked his lips. But then he grew to like it, and to ask for it, and +be cross when he was refused. And then... then he learnt how to get it +for himself. And when his father saw I was upset about it, he egged him +on--gave it to him on the sly.--Oh, he is a bad man, doctor, a BAD, +cruel man! He says such wicked things, too. He doesn't believe in God, +or that it is wrong to take one's own life, and he says he never wanted +children. He jeers at me because I am fond of Eddy, and because I go to +church when I can, and says ... oh, I know I am not clever, but I am +not quite such a fool as he makes me out to be. He speaks to me as if I +were the dirt under his feet. He can't bear the sight of me. I have +heard him curse the day he first saw me. And so he's only too glad to +be able to come between my boy and me ... in any way he can." + +Mahony led the weeping woman back to the dining-room. There he sat +long, patiently listening and advising; sat, till Mrs. Glendinning had +dried her eyes and was her charming self once more. + +The gist of what he said was, the boy must be removed from home at +once, and placed in strict, yet kind hands. + +Here, however, he ran up against a weak maternal obstinacy. "Oh, but I +couldn't part from Eddy. He is all I have.... And so devoted to his +mammy." + +As Mahony insisted, she looked the picture of helplessness. "But I +should have no idea how to set about it. And my husband would put every +possible obstacle in the way." + +"With your permission I will arrange the matter myself." + +"Oh, how kind you are!" cried Mrs. Glendinning again. "But mind, +doctor, it must be somewhere where Eddy will lack none of the comforts +he is accustomed to, and where his poor mammy can see him whenever she +wishes. Otherwise he will fret himself ill." + +Mahony promised to do his best to satisfy her, and declining, very +curtly, the wine she pressed on him, went out to mount his horse which +had been brought round. + +Following him on to the verandah, Mrs. Glendinning became once more the +pretty woman frankly concerned for her appearance. "I don't know how I +look, I'm sure," she said apologetically, and raised both hands to her +hair. "Now I will go and rest for an hour. There is to be opossuming +and a moonlight picnic to-night at Warraluen." Catching Mahony's eye +fixed on her with a meaning emphasis, she changed colour. "I cannot sit +at home and think, doctor. I MUST distract myself; or I should go mad." + +When he was in the saddle she showed him her dimples again, and her +small, even teeth. "I want you to bring your wife to see me next time +you come," she sad, patting the horse's neck. "I took a great fancy to +her--a sweet little woman!" + +But Mahony, jogging downhill, said to himself he would think twice +before introducing Polly there. His young wife's sunny, girlish outlook +should not, with his consent, be clouded by a knowledge of the sordid +things this material prosperity hid from view. A whited sepulchre +seemed to him now the richly appointed house, the well-stocked gardens, +the acres on acres of good pasture-land: a fair outside when, within, +all was foul. He called to mind what he knew by hearsay of the owner. +Glendinning was one of the pioneer squatters of the district, had held +the run for close on fifteen years. Nowadays, when the land round was +entirely taken up, and a place like Ballarat stood within +stone's-throw, it was hard to imagine the awful solitude to which the +early settlers had been condemned. Then, with his next neighbour miles +and miles away, Melbourne, the nearest town, a couple of days' ride +through trackless bush, a man was a veritable prisoner in this desert +of paddocks, with not a soul to speak to but rough station-hands, and +nothing to occupy his mind but the damage done by summer droughts and +winter floods. No support or comradeship in the wife either--this poor +pretty foolish little woman: "With the brains of a pigeon!" Glendinning +had the name of being intelligent: was it, under these circumstances, +matter for wonder that he should seek to drown doubts, memories, +inevitable regrets; should be led on to the bitter discovery that +forgetfulness alone rendered life endurable? Yes, there was something +sinister in the dead stillness of the melancholy bush; in the harsh, +merciless sunlight of the late afternoon. + +A couple of miles out his horse cast a shoe, and it was evening before +he reached home. Polly was watching for him on the doorstep, in a +twitter lest some accident had happened or he had had a brush with +bushrangers. + +"It never rains but it pours, dear!" was her greeting: he had been +twice sent for to the Flat, to attend a woman in labour.--And with +barely time to wash the worst of the ride's dust off him, he had to +pick up his bag and hurry away. + + + + +Chapter V + +"A very striking-looking man! With perfect manners--and beautiful +hands." + +Her head bent over her sewing, Polly repeated these words to herself +with a happy little smile. They had been told her, in confidence, by +Mrs. Glendinning, and had been said by this lady's best friend, Mrs. +Urquhart of Yarangobilly: on the occasion of Richard's second call at +Dandaloo, he had been requested to ride to the neighbouring station to +visit Mrs. Urquhart, who was in delicate health. And of course Polly +had passed the flattering opinion on; for, though she was rather a good +hand at keeping a secret--Richard declared he had never known a +better--yet that secret did not exist--or up till now had not +existed--which she could imagine herself keeping from him. + +For the past few weeks these two ladies had vied with each other in +singing Richard's praises, and in making much of Polly: the second time +Mrs. Glendinning called she came in her buggy, and carried off Polly, +and Trotty, too, to Yarangobilly, where there was a nestful of little +ones for the child to play with. Another day a whole brakeful of lively +people drove up to the door in the early morning, and insisted on Polly +accompanying them, just as she was, to the Racecourse on the road to +Creswick's Creek. And everybody was so kind to her that Polly heartily +enjoyed herself, in spite of her plain print dress. She won a pair of +gloves and a piece of music in a philippine with Mr Urquhart, a jolly, +carroty-haired man, beside whom she sat on the box-seat coming home; +and she was lucky enough to have half-a-crown on one of the winners. An +impromptu dance was got up that evening by the merry party, in a hall +in the township; and Polly had the honour of a turn with Mr. Henry +Ocock, who was most affable. Richard also looked in for an hour towards +the end, and valsed her and Mrs. Glendinning round. + +Polly had quite lost her heart to her new friend. At the outset Richard +had rather frowned on the intimacy--but then he was a person given to +taking unaccountable antipathies. In this case, however, he had to +yield; for not only did a deep personal liking spring up between the +two women, but a wave of pity swept over Polly, blinding her to more +subtle considerations. Before Mrs. Glendinning had been many times at +the house, she had poured out all her troubles to Polly, impelled +thereto by Polly's quick sympathy and warm young eyes. Richard had +purposely given his wife few details of his visits to Dandaloo; but +Mrs. Glendinning knew no such scruples, and cried her eyes out on +Polly's shoulder. + +What a dreadful man the husband must be! "For she really is the dearest +little woman, Richard. And means so well with every one--I've never +heard her say a sharp or unkind word.--Well, not very clever, perhaps. +But everybody can't be clever, can they? And she's good--which is +better. The only thing she seems a teeny-weeny bit foolish about is her +boy. I'm afraid she'll never consent to part with him."--Polly said +this to prepare her husband, who was in correspondence on the subject +with Archdeacon Long and with John in Melbourne. Richard was putting +himself to a great deal of trouble, and would naturally be vexed if +nothing came of it. + +Polly paid her first visit to Dandaloo with considerable trepidation. +For Mrs. Urquhart, who herself was happily married--although, it was +true, her merry, red-haired husband had the reputation of being a +LITTLE too fond of the ladies, and though he certainly did not make +such a paying concern of Yarangobilly as Mr. Glendinning of +Dandaloo--Mrs. Urquhart had whispered to Polly as they sat chatting on +the verandah: "Such a DREADFUL man, my dear! ... a perfect brute! Poor +little Agnes. It is wonderful how she keeps her spirits up." + +Polly, however, was in honour bound to admit that to her the owner of +Dandaloo had appeared anything but the monster report made him out to +be. He was perfectly sober the day she was there, and did not touch +wine at luncheon; and afterwards he had been most kind, taking her with +him on a quiet little broad-backed mare to an outlying part of the +station, and giving her several hints how to improve her seat. He was +certainly very haggard-looking, and deeply wrinkled, and at table his +hand shook so that the water in his glass ran over. But all this only +made Polly feel sorry for him, and long to help him. + +"My dear, you ARE favoured! I never knew James make such an offer +before," whispered Mrs. Glendinning, as she pinned her ample +riding-skirt round her friend's slim hips. + +The one thing about him that disturbed Polly was his manner towards his +wife: he was savagely ironic with her, and trampled hobnailed on her +timid opinions. But then Agnes didn't know how to treat him, Polly soon +saw that: she was nervous and fluttery--evasive, too; and once during +lunch even told a deliberate fib. Slight as was her acquaintance with +him, Polly felt sure this want of courage must displease him; for there +was something very simple and direct about his own way of speaking. + +"My dear, why don't you stand up to him?" asked little Polly. + +"Dearest, I dare not. If you knew him as I do, Polly.... He TERRIFIES +me.--Oh, what a lucky little woman you are ... to have a husband like +yours." + +Polly had recalled these words that very morning as she stood to watch +Richard ride away: never did he forget to kiss her good-bye, or to turn +and wave to her at the foot of the road. Each time she admired afresh +the figure he cut on horseback: he was so tall and slender, and sat so +straight in his saddle. Now, too, he had yielded to her persuasions and +shaved off his beard; and his moustache and side-whiskers were like his +hair, of an extreme, silky blond. Ever since the day of their first +meeting at Beamish's Family Hotel, Polly had thought her husband the +handsomest man in the world. And the best, as well. He had his +peculiarities, of course; but so had every husband; and it was part of +a wife's duty to study them, to adapt herself to them, or to endeavour +to tone them down. And now came these older, wiser ladies and confirmed +her high opinion of him. Polly beamed with happiness at this juncture, +and registered a silent vow always to be the best of wives. + +Not like--but here she tripped and coloured, on the threshold of her +thought. She had recently been the recipient of a very distressing +confidence; one, too, which she was not at liberty to share, even with +Richard. For, after the relief of a thorough-paced confession, Mrs. +Glendinning had implored her not to breathe a word to him--"I could +never look him in the face again, love!" Besides, the affair was of +such a painful nature that Polly felt little desire to draw Richard +into it; it was bad enough that she herself should know. The thing was +this: once when Polly had stayed overnight at Dandaloo Agnes +Glendinning in a sudden fit of misery had owned to her that she cared +for another person more than for her own husband, and that her feelings +were returned. + +Shocked beyond measure, Polly tried to close her friend's lips. "I +don't think you should mention any names, Agnes," she cried. +"Afterwards, my dear, you might regret it." + +But Mrs. Glendinning was hungry for the luxury of speech--not even to +Louisa Urquhart had she broken silence, she wept; and that, for the +sake of Louisa's children--and she persisted in laying her heart bare. +And here certain vague suspicions that had crossed Polly's mind on the +night of the impromptu ball--they were gone again, in an instant, quick +as thistledown on the breeze--these suddenly returned, life-size and +weighty; and the name that was spoken came as no surprise to her. Yes, +it was Mr. Henry Ocock to whom poor Agnes was attached. There had been +a mutual avowal of affection, sobbed the latter; they met as often as +circumstances permitted. Polly was thunder-struck: knowing Agnes as she +did, she herself could not believe any harm of her; but she shuddered +at the thought of what other people--Richard, for instance--would say, +did they get wind of it. She implored her friend to caution. She ought +never, never to see Mr. Ocock. Why did she not go away to Melbourne for +a time? And why had he come to Ballarat? + +"To be near me, dearest, to help me if I should need him.--Oh, you +can't think what a comfort it is, Polly, to feel that he IS here--so +good, and strong, and clever!--Yes, I know what you mean ... but this +is quite, quite different. Henry does not expect me to be clever, +too--does not want me to be. He prefers me as I am. He dislikes clever +women ... would never marry one. And we SHALL marry, darling, some +day--when ..." + +Henry Ocock! Polly tried to focus everything she knew of him, all her +fleeting impressions, in one picture--and failed. He had made himself +very agreeable, the single time she had met him; but.... There was +Richard's opinion of him: Richard did not like him or trust him; he +thought him unscrupulous in business, cold and self-seeking. Poor, poor +little Agnes! That such a misfortune should befall just her! Stranger +still that she, Polly, should be mixed up in it. + +She had, of course, always known from books that such things did +happen; but then they seemed quite different, and very far away. Her +thoughts at this crisis were undeniably woolly; but the gist of them +was, that life and books had nothing in common. For in stories the +woman who forgot herself was always a bad woman; whereas not the +harshest critic could call poor Agnes bad. Indeed, Polly felt that even +if some one proved to her that her friend had actually done wrong, she +would not on that account be able to stop caring for her, or feeling +sorry for her. It was all very uncomfortable and confusing. + +While these thoughts came and went, she half sat, half knelt, a pair of +scissors in her hand. She was busy cutting out a dress, and no table +being big enough for the purpose, had stretched the material on the +parlour floor. This would be the first new dress she had had since her +marriage; and it was high time, considering all the visiting and going +about that fell to her lot just now. Sara had sent the pattern up from +Melbourne, and John, hearing what was in the wind, had most kindly and +generously made her a present of the silk. Polly hoped she would not +bungle it in the cutting; but skirts were growing wider and wider, and +John had not reckoned with quite the newest fashion. + +Steps in the passage made her note subconsciously that Ned had +arrived--Jerry had been in the house for the past three weeks, with a +sprained wrist. And at this moment her younger brother himself entered +the room, Trotty throned on his shoulder. + +Picking his steps round the sea of stuff, Jerry sat down and lowered +Trotty to his knee. "Ned's grizzling for tea." + +Polly did not reply; she was laying an odd-shaped piece of paper now +this way, now that. + +For a while Jerry played with the child. Then he burst out: "I say, +Poll!" And since Polly paid no heed to his apostrophe: + +"Richard says I can get back to work to-morrow." + +"That's a good thing," answered his sister with an air of abstraction: +she had solved her puzzle to within half a yard. + +Jerry cast a boyishly imploring glance at her back, and rubbed his chin +with his hand. "Poll, old girl--I say, wouldn't you put in a word for +me with Richard? I'm hanged if I want to go back to the claim. I'm sick +to death of digging." + +At this Polly did raise her head, to regard him with grave eyes. "What! +tired of work already, Jerry? I don't know what Richard will say to +that, I'm sure. You had better speak to him yourself." + +Again Jerry rubbed his chin. "That's just it--what's so beastly hard. I +know he'll say I ought to stick to it." + +"So do I." + +"Well, I'd rather groom the horse than that." + +"But think how pleased you were at first!" + +Jerry ruefully admitted it. "One expects to dig out gold like spuds; +while the real thing's enough to give you the blight. As for stopping a +wages-man all my life, I won't do it. I might just as well go home and +work in a Lancashire pit." + +"But Ned--" + +"Oh, Ned! Ned walks about with his head in the clouds. He's always +blowing of what he's GOING to do, and gets his steam off that way. I'm +different." + +But Jerry's words fell on deaf ears. A noise in the next room was +engaging Polly's whole attention. She heard a burr of suppressed +laughter, a scuffle and what sounded like a sharp slap. Jumping up she +went to the door, and was just in time to see Ellen whisk out of the +dining-room. + +Ned sat in an armchair, with his feet on the chimney-piece. "I had the +girl bring in a log, Poll," he said; and looked back and up at his +sister with his cheery smile. Standing behind him, Polly laid her hand +on his hair. "I'll go and see after the tea." Ned was so unconcerned +that she hesitated to put a question. + +In the kitchen she had no such tender scruples; nor was she imposed on +by the exaggerated energy with which Ellen bustled about. "What was +that noise I heard in the dining-room just now?" she demanded. + +"Noise? I dunno," gave back the girl crossly without facing her. + +"Nonsense, Ellen! Do you think I didn't hear?" + +"Oh, get along with you! It was only one of Ned's jokes." And going on +her knees, Ellen set to scrubbing the brick floor with a hiss and a +scratch that rendered speech impossible. Polly took up the laden +tea-tray and carried it into the dining-room. Richard had come home, +and the four drew chairs to the table. + +Mahony had a book with him; he propped it open against the +butter-cooler, and snatched sentences as he ate. It fell to Ned to keep +the ball rolling. Polly was distraite to the point of going wrong in +her sugars; Jerry uneasy at the prospect of coming in conflict with his +brother-in-law, whom he thought the world of. + +Ned was as full of talk as an egg of meat. The theme he dwelt longest +on was the new glory that lay in store for the Ballarat diggings. At +present these were under a cloud. The alluvial was giving out, and the +costs and difficulties of boring through the rock seemed insuperable. +One might hear the opinion freely expressed that Ballarat's day as +premier goldfield was done. Ned set up this belief merely for the +pleasure of demolishing it. He had it at first hand that great +companies were being formed to carry on operations. These would reckon +their areas in acres instead of feet, would sink to a depth of a +quarter of a mile or more, raise washdirt in hundreds of tons per day. +One such company, indeed, had already sprung into existence, out on +Golden Point; and now was the time to nip in. If he, Ned, had the +brass, or knew anybody who'd lend it to him, he'd buy up all the shares +he could get. Those who followed his lead would make their fortunes. "I +say, Richard, it'ud be something for you." + +His words evoked no response. Sorry though I shall be, thought Polly, +dear Ned had better not come to the house so often in future. I wonder +if I need tell Richard why. Jerry was on pins and needles, and even put +Trotty ungently from him: Richard would be so disgusted by Ned's +blatherskite that he would have no patience left to listen to him. + +Mahony kept his nose to his book. As a matter of principle. He made a +rule of believing, on an average, about the half of what Ned said. To +appear to pay attention to him would spur him on to more flagrant +over-statements. + +"D'ye hear, Richard? Now's your chance," repeated Ned, not to be done. +"A very different thing this, I can tell you, from running round dosing +people for the collywobbles. I know men who are raising the splosh any +way they can to get in." + +"I dare say. There's never been any lack of gamblers on Ballarat," said +Mahony dryly, and passed his cup to be refilled. + +Pig-headed fool! was Ned's mental retort, as he sliced a chunk of +rabbit-pie. "Well, I bet you'll feel sore some day you didn't take my +advice," he said aloud. + +"We shall see, my lad, we shall see!" replied Mahony. "In the meantime, +let me inform you, I can make good use of every penny I have. So if +you've come here thinking you can wheedle something out of me, you're +mistaken." He could seldom resist tearing the veil from Ned's gross +hints and impostures. + +"Oh no, Richard dear!" interpolated Polly, in her role of +keeper-of-the-peace. + +Ned answered huffily: "'Pon my word, I never met such a fellow as you, +for thinking the worst of people." + +The thrust went home. Mahony clapped his book to. "You lay yourself +open to it, sir! If I'm wrong, I beg your pardon. But for goodness' +sake, Ned, put all these trashy ideas of making a fortune out of your +mind. Digging is played out, I tell you. Decent people turned their +backs on it long ago." + +"That's what I think, too," threw in Jerry. + +Mahony bit his lip. "Come, come, now, what do you know about it?" + +Jerry flushed and floundered, till Polly came to his aid. "He's been +wanting to speak to you, Richard. He hates the work as much as you did." + +"Well, he has a tongue of his own.--Speak for yourself, my boy!" + +Thus encouraged, Jerry made his appeal; and fearing lest Richard should +throw him, half-heard, into the same category as Ned, he worded it very +tersely. Mahony, who had never given much heed to Jerry--no one +did--was pleased by his straightforward air. Still, he did not know +what could be done for him, and said so. + +Here Polly had an inspiration. "But I think I do. I remember Mr. Ocock +saying to me the other day he must take another boy into the business, +it was growing so--the fourth, this will make. I don't know if he's +suited yet, but even if he is, he may have heard of something else.-- +Only you know, Jerry, you mustn't mind WHAT it is. After tea I'll put +on my bonnet and go down to the Flat with you. And Ned shall come, +too," she added, with a consoling glance at her elder brother: Ned had +extended his huff to his second slice of pie, which lay untouched on +his plate. + +"Somebody has always got something up her sleeve," said Mahony +affectionately, when Polly came to him in walking costume. "None the +less, wife, I shouldn't be surprised if those brothers of yours gave us +some trouble, before we're done with them." + + + + +Chapter VI + +In the weeks and months that followed, as he rode from one end of +Ballarat to the other--from Yuille's Swamp in the west, as far east as +the ranges and gullies of Little Bendigo--it gradually became plain to +Mahony that Ned's frothy tales had some body in them after all. The +character of the diggings was changing before his very eyes. Nowadays, +except on an outlying muddy flat or in the hands of the retrograde +Chinese, tubs, cradles, and windlasses were rarely to be met with. +Engine-sheds and boiler-houses began to dot the ground; here and there +a tall chimney belched smoke, beside a lofty poppet-head or an aerial +trolley-line. The richest gutters were found to take their rise below +the basaltic deposits; the difficulties and risks of rock-mining had +now to be faced, and the capitalist, so long held at bay, at length +made free of the field. Large sums of money were being subscribed; and, +where these proved insufficient, the banks stepped into the breach with +subsidies on mortgages. The population, in whose veins the gold-fever +still burned, plunged by wholesale into the new hazard; and under the +wooden verandahs of Bridge Street a motley crew of jobbers and brokers +came into existence, who would demonstrate to you, a la Ned, how you +might reap a fortune from a claim without putting in an hour's work on +it--without even knowing where it was. + +A temptation, indeed! ... but one that did not affect him. Mahony let +the reins droop on his horse's neck, and the animal picked its way +among the impedimenta of the bush road. It concerned only those who had +money to spare. Months, too, must go by before, from even the most +promising of these co-operative affairs, any return was to be expected. +As for him, there still came days when he had not a five-pound note to +his name. It had been a delusion to suppose that, in accepting John's +offer, he was leaving money-troubles behind him. Despite Polly's +thrift, their improved style of life cost more than he had reckoned; +the patients, slow to come, were slower still to discharge their debts. +Moreover, he had not guessed how heavily the quarterly payments of +interest would weigh on him. With as good as no margin, with the fate +of every shilling decided beforehand, the saving up of thirty odd +pounds four times a year was a veritable achievement. He was always in +a quake lest he should not be able to get it together. No one suspected +what near shaves he had--not even Polly. The last time hardly bore +thinking about. At the eleventh hour he had unexpectedly found himself +several pounds short. He did not close an eye all night, and got up in +the morning as though for his own execution. Then, fortune favoured +him. A well-to-do butcher, his hearty: "What'll yours be?" at the +nearest public-house waved aside, had settled his bill off-hand. Mahony +could still feel the sudden lift of the black fog-cloud that had +enveloped him--the sense of bodily exhaustion that had succeeded to the +intolerable mental strain. + +For the coming quarter-day he was better prepared--if, that was, +nothing out of the way happened. Of late he had been haunted by the +fear of illness. The long hours in the saddle did not suit him. He +ought to have a buggy, and a second horse. But there could be no +question of it in the meantime, or of a great deal else besides. He +wanted to buy Polly a piano, for instance; all her friends had pianos; +and she played and sang very prettily. She needed more dresses and +bonnets, too, than he was able to allow her, as well as a change to the +seaside in the summer heat. The first spare money he had should go +towards one or the other. He loved to give Polly pleasure; never was +such a contented little soul as she. And well for him that it was so. +To have had a complaining, even an impatient wife at his side, just +now, would have been unbearable. But Polly did not know what impatience +meant; her sunny temper, her fixed resolve to make the best of +everything was not to be shaken. + +Well, comforts galore should be hers some day, he hoped. The practice +was shaping satisfactorily. His attendance at Dandaloo had proved a key +to many doors: folk of the Glendinnings' and Urquharts' standing could +make a reputation or mar it as they chose. It had got abroad, he knew, +that at whatever hour of the day or night he was sent for, he could be +relied on to be sober; and that unfortunately was not always the case +with some of his colleagues. In addition his fellow-practitioners +showed signs of waking up to his existence. He had been called in +lately to a couple of consultations; and the doyen of the profession on +Ballarat, old Munce himself, had praised his handling of a difficult +case of version. + +The distances to be covered--that was what made the work stiff. And he +could not afford to neglect a single summons, no matter where it led +him. Still, he would not have grumbled, had only the money not been so +hard to get in. But the fifty thousand odd souls on Ballarat formed, +even yet, anything but a stable population: a patient you attended one +day might be gone the next, and gone where no bill could reach him. Or +he had been sold off at public auction; or his wooden shanty had gone +up in a flare--hardly a night passed without a fire somewhere. In these +and like accidents the unfortunate doctor might whistle for his fee. It +seldom happened nowadays that he was paid in cash. Money was growing as +scarce here as anywhere else. Sometimes, it was true, he might have +pocketed his fee on the spot, had he cared to ask for it. But the +presenting of his palm professionally was a gesture that was denied +him. And this stand-offishness drove from people's minds the thought +that he might be in actual need of money. Afterwards he sat at home and +racked his brains how to pay butcher and grocer. Others of the +fraternity were by no means so nice. He knew of some who would not stir +a yard unless their fee was planked down before them--old stagers +these, who at one time had been badly bitten and were now grown +cynically distrustful. Or tired. And indeed who could blame a man for +hesitating of a pitch-dark night in the winter rains, or on a blazing +summer day, whether or no he should set out on a twenty-mile ride for +which he might never see the ghost of a remuneration? + +Reflecting thus, Mahony caught at a couple of hard, spicy, grey-green +leaves, to chew as he went: the gums, on which the old bark hung in +ribbons, were in flower by now, and bore feathery yellow blossoms side +by side with nutty capsules. His horse had been ambling forward +unpressed. Now it laid its ears flat, and a minute later its master's +slower senses caught the clop-clop of a second set of hoofs, the noise +of wheels. Mahony had reached a place where two roads joined, and saw a +covered buggy approaching. He drew rein and waited. + +The occupant of the vehicle had wound the reins round the empty +lamp-bracket, and left it to the sagacity of his horse to keep the +familiar track, while he dozed, head on breast, in the corner. The +animal halted of itself on coming up with its fellow, and Archdeacon +Long opened his eyes. + +"Ah, good-day to you, doctor!--Yes, as you see, enjoying a little nap. +I was out early." + +He got down from the buggy and, with bent knees and his hands in his +pockets, stretched the creased cloth of his trousers, where this had +cut into his flesh. He was a big, brawny, handsome man, with a massive +nose, a cloven chin, and the most companionable smile in the world. As +he stood, he touched here a strap, there a buckle on the harness of his +chestnut--a well-known trotter, with which he often made a match--and +affectionately clapped the neck of Mahony's bay. He could not keep his +hands off a horse. By choice he was his own stableman, and in earlier +life had been a dare-devil rider. Now, increasing weight led him to +prefer buggy to saddle; but his recklessness had not diminished. With +the reins in his left hand, he would run his light, two-wheeled trap up +any wooded, boulder-strewn hill and down the other side, just as in his +harum-scarum days he had set it at felled trees, and, if rumour spoke +true, wire-fences. + +Mahony admired the splendid vitality of the man, as well as the +indestructible optimism that bore him triumphantly through all the +hardships of a colonial ministry. No sick bed was too remote for Long, +no sinner sunk too low to be helped to his feet. The leprous Chinaman +doomed to an unending isolation, the drunken Paddy, the degraded white +woman--each came in for a share of his benevolence. He spent the +greater part of his life visiting the outcasts and outposts, beating up +the unbaptised, the unconfirmed, the unwed. But his church did not +suffer. He had always some fresh scheme for this on hand: either he was +getting up a tea-meeting to raise money for an organ; or a series of +penny-readings towards funds for a chancel; or he was training with his +choir for a sacred concert. There was a boyish streak in him, too. He +would enter into the joys of the annual Sunday-school picnic with a +zest equal to the children's own, leading the way, in shirt-sleeves, at +leap-frog and obstacle-race. In doctrine he struck a happy mean between +low-church practices and ritualism, preaching short, spirited sermons +to which even languid Christians could listen without tedium; and on a +week-day evening he would take a hand at a rubber of whist or +ecarte--and not for love--or play a sound game of chess. A man, too, +who, refusing to be bound by the letter of the Thirty-nine Articles, +extended his charity even to persons of the Popish faith. In short, he +was one of the few to whom Mahony could speak of his own haphazard +efforts at criticising the Pentateuch. + +The Archdeacon was wont to respond with his genial smile: "Ah, it's all +very well for you, doctor!--you're a free lance. I am constrained by my +cloth.--And frankly, for the rest of us, that kind of thing's +too--well, too disturbing. Especially when we have nothing better to +put in its place." + +Doctor and parson--the latter, considerably over six feet, made Mahony, +who was tall enough, look short and doubly slender--walked side by side +for nearly a mile, flitting from topic to topic: the rivalry that +prevailed between Ballarats East and West; the seditious uprising in +India, where both had relatives; the recent rains, the prospects for +grazing. The last theme brought them round to Dandaloo and its unhappy +owner. The Archdeacon expressed the outsider's surprise at the strength +of Glendinning's constitution, and the lively popular sympathy that was +felt for his wife. + +"One's heart aches for the poor little lady, struggling to bear up as +though nothing were the matter. Between ourselves, doctor"--and Mr. +Long took off his straw hat to let the air play round his +head--"between ourselves, it's a thousand pities he doesn't just pop +off the hooks in one of his bouts. Or that some of you medical +gentlemen don't use your knowledge to help things on." + +He let out his great hearty laugh as he spoke, and his companion's +involuntary stiffening went unnoticed. But on Mahony voicing his +attitude with: "And his immortal soul, sir? Isn't it the church's duty +to hope for a miracle? ... just as it is ours to keep the vital spark +going," he made haste to take the edge off his words. "Now, now, +doctor, only my fun! Our duty is, I trust, plain to us both." + +It was even easier to soothe than to ruffle Mahony. "Remember me very +kindly to Mrs. Long, will you?" he said as the Archdeacon prepared to +climb into his buggy. "But tell her, too, I owe her a grudge just now. +My wife's so lost in flannel and brown holland that I can't get a word +out of her." + +"And mine doesn't know where she'd be, with this bazaar, if it weren't +for Mrs. Mahony." Long was husband to a dot of a woman who, having +borne him half a dozen children of his own feature and build, now +worked as parish clerk and district visitor rolled in one; driving +about in sunbonnet and gardening-gloves behind a pair of cream +ponies--tiny, sharp-featured, resolute; with little of her husband's +large tolerance, but an energy that outdid his own, and made her an +object of both fear and respect. "And that reminds me: over at the +cross-roads by Spring Hill, I met your young brother-in-law. And he +told me, if I ran across you to ask you to hurry home. Your wife has +some surprise or other in store for you. No, nothing unpleasant! Rather +the reverse, I believe. But I wasn't to say more. Well, good-day, +doctor, good-day to you!" + +Mahony smiled, nodded and went on his way. Polly's surprises were +usually simple and transparent things: some one would have made them a +present of a sucking-pig or a bush-turkey, and Polly, knowing his +relish for a savoury morsel, did not wish it to be overdone: she had +sent similar chance calls out after him before now. + +When, having seen his horse rubbed down, he reached home, he found her +on the doorstep watching for him. She was flushed, and her eyes had +those peculiar high-lights in them which led him jokingly to exhort her +to caution: "Lest the sparks should set the house on fire!" + +"Well, what is it, Pussy?" he inquired as he laid his bag down and hung +up his wide-awake. "What's my little surprise-monger got up her sleeve +to-day? Good Lord, Polly, I'm tired!" + +Polly was smiling roguishly. "Aren't you going into the surgery, +Richard?" she asked, seeing him heading for the dining-room. + +"Aha! So that's it," said he, and obediently turned the handle. Polly +had on occasion taken advantage of his absence to introduce some new +comfort or decoration in his room. + +The blind had been let down. He was still blinking in the half-dark +when a figure sprang out from behind the door, barging heavily against +him, and a loud voice shouted: "Boh, you old beef-brains! Boh to a +goose!" + +Displeased at such horseplay, Mahony stepped sharply back--his first +thought was of Ned having unexpectedly returned from Mount Ararat. Then +recognising the voice, he exclaimed incredulously: "YOU, Dickybird? +You!" + +"Dick, old man.... I say, Dick! Yes, it's me right enough, and not my +ghost. The old bad egg come back to roost!" + +The blind was raised; and the friends, who had last met in the dingy +bush hut on the night of the Stockade, stood face to face. And now +ensued a babel of greeting, a quick fire of question and answer, the +two voices going in and out and round each other, singly and together, +like the voices in a duet. Tears rose to Polly's eyes as she listened; +it made her heart glow to see Richard so glad. But when, forgetting her +presence, Purdy cried: "And I must confess, Dick.... I took a kiss from +Mrs. Polly. Gad, old man, how she's come on!" Polly hastily retired to +the kitchen. + +At table the same high spirits prevailed: it did not often happen that +Richard was brought out of his shell like this, thought Polly +gratefully, and heaped her visitor's plate to the brim. His first +hunger stilled, Purdy fell to giving a slapdash account of his +experiences. He kept to no orderly sequence, but threw them out just as +they occurred to him: a rub with bushrangers in the Black Forest, his +adventures as a long-distance drover in the Mildura, the trials of a +week he had spent in a boiling-down establishment on the Murray: "Where +the stink wa so foul, you two, that I vomited like a dog every day!" +Under the force of this Odyssey husband and wife gradually dropped into +silence, which they broke only by single words of astonishment and +sympathy; while the child Trotty spooned in her pudding without seeing +it, her round, solemn eyes fixed unblinkingly on this new uncle, who +was like a wonderful story-book come alive. + +In Mahony's feelings for Purdy at this moment, there was none of the +old intolerant superiority. He had been dependent for so long on a mere +surface acquaintance with his fellows, that he now felt to the full how +precious the tie was that bound him to Purdy. Here came one for whom he +was not alone the reserved, struggling practitioner, the rather moody +man advancing to middle-age; but also the Dick of his boyhood and early +youth. + +He had often imagined the satisfaction it would be to confide his +troubles to Purdy. Compared, however, with the hardships the latter had +undergone, these seemed of small importance; and dinner passed without +any allusion to his own affairs. And now the chances of his speaking +out were slight; he could have been entirely frank only under the first +stimulus of meeting. + +Even when they rose from the table Purdy continued to hold the stage. +For he had turned up with hardly a shirt to his back, and had to be +rigged out afresh from Mahony's wardrobe. It was decided that he should +remain their guest in the meantime; also that Mahony should call on his +behalf on the Commissioner of Police, and put in a good word for him. +For Purdy had come back with the idea of seeking a job in the Ballarat +Mounted Force. + +When Mahony could no longer put off starting on his afternoon round, +Purdy went with him to the livery-barn, limping briskly at his side. On +the way, he exclaimed aloud at the marvellous changes that had taken +place since he was last in the township. There were half a dozen +gas-lamps in Sturt Street by this time, the gas being distilled from a +mixture of oil and gum-leaves. + +"One wouldn't credit it if one didn't see it with one's own peepers!" +he cried, repeatedly bringing up short before the plate-glass windows +of the shops, the many handsome, verandahed hotels, the granite front +of Christ Church. "And from what I hear, Dick, now companies have +jumped the claims and are deep-sinking in earnest, fortunes'll be made +like one o'clock." + +But on getting home again, he sat down in front of Polly and said, with +a businesslike air: "And now tell me all about old Dick! You know, +Poll, he's such an odd fish; if he himself doesn't offer to uncork, +somehow one can't just pump him. And I want to know everything that +concerns him--from A to Z." + +Polly could not hold out against this affectionate curiosity. +Entrenching her needle in its stuff, she put her work away and +complied. And soon to her own satisfaction. For the first time in her +married life she was led to discuss her husband's ways and actions with +another; and, to her amazement, she found that it was easier to talk to +Purdy about Richard than to Richard himself. Purdy and she saw things +in the same light; no rigmarole of explanation was necessary. Now with +Richard, it was not so. In conversation with him, one constantly felt +that he was not speaking out, or, to put it more plainly, that he was +going on meanwhile with his own, very different thoughts. And behind +what he did say, there was sure to lurk some imaginary scruple, some +rather far-fetched delicacy of feeling which it was hard to get at, and +harder still to understand. + + + + +Chapter VII + +Summer had come round again, and the motionless white heat of December +lay heavy on the place. The low little houses seemed to cower beneath +it; and the smoke from their chimneys drew black, perpendicular lines +on the pale sky. If it was a misery at this season to traverse the +blazing, dusty roads, it was almost worse to be within doors, where the +thin wooden walls were powerless to keep out the heat, and flies and +mosquitoes raged in chorus. Nevertheless, determined Christmas +preparations went on in dozens of tiny, zinc-roofed kitchens, the +temperature of which was not much below that of the ovens themselves; +and kindly, well-to-do people like Mrs. Glendinning and Mrs. Urquhart +drove in in hooded buggies, with green fly-veils dangling from their +broad-brimmed hats, and dropped a goose here, a turkey there, on their +less prosperous friends. They robbed their gardens, too, of the +summer's last flowers, arum-lilies and brilliant geraniums, to decorate +the Archdeacon's church for the festival; and many ladies spent the +whole day beforehand making wreaths and crosses, and festoons to +encircle the lamps. + +No one was busier than Polly. She wanted to give Purdy, who had been on +short commons for so long, a special Christmas treat. She had willing +helpers in him and Jerry: the two of them chopped and stoned and +stirred, while she, seated on the block of the woodstack, her head tied +up in an old pillow-case, plucked and singed the goose that had fallen +to her share. Towards four o'clock on Christmas Day they drew their +chairs to the table, and with loosened collars set about enjoying the +good things. Or pretending to enjoy them. This was Mahony's case; for +the day was no holiday for him, and his head ached from the sun. At +tea-time Hempel arrived to pay a call, looking very spruce in a long +black coat and white tie; and close on his heels followed old Mr. +Ocock. The latter, having deposited his hat under his seat and tapped +several pockets, produced a letter, which he unfolded and handed to +Polly with a broad grin. It was from his daughter, and contained the +news of his wife's death. "Died o' the grumbles, I lay you! An' the +first good turn she ever done me." The main point was that Miss Amelia, +now at liberty, was already taking advice about the safest line of +clipper-ships, and asking for a reply BY RETURN to a number of +extraordinary questions. Could one depend on hearing God's Word +preached of a Sunday? Was it customary for FEMALES to go armed as well +as men? Were the blacks CONVERTED, and what amount of clothing did they +wear? + +"Thinks she's comin' to the back o' beyond, does Mely!" chuckled the +old man, and slapped his thigh at the sudden idea that occurred to him +of "takin' a rise out of 'er." "Won't she stare when she gits 'ere, +that's all!" + +"Well, now you'll simply HAVE to build," said Polly, after threatening +to write privately to Miss Amelia, to reassure her. Why not move over +west, and take up a piece of ground in the same road as themselves? But +from this he excused himself, with a laugh and a spit, on the score +that no land-sales had yet been held in their neighbourhood: when he +DID turn out of his present four walls, which had always been plenty +good enough for him, he wanted a place he could "fit up tidy"; which it +'ud stick in his throat to do so, if he thought it might any day be +sold over his head. Mahony winced at this. Then laughed, with an +exaggerated carelessness. If, in a country like this, you waited for +all to be fixed and sure, you would wait till Domesday. None the less, +the thrust rankled. It was a fact that he himself had not spent a sou +on his premises since they finished building. The thought at the back +of HIS mind, too, was, why waste his hard-earned income on improvements +that might benefit only the next-comer? The yard they sat in, for +instance! Polly had her hens and a ramshackle hen-house; but not a +spadeful of earth had been turned towards the wished-for garden. It was +just the ordinary colonial backyard, fenced round with rude palings +which did not match, and were mended here and there with bits of +hoop-iron; its ground space littered with a medley of articles for +which there was no room elsewhere: boards left lying by the builders, +empty kerosene-tins, a couple of tubs, a ragged cane-chair, some old +cases. Wash-lines, on which at the moment a row of stockings hung, +stretched permanently from corner to corner; and the whole was +dominated by the big round galvanised-iron tank. + +On Boxing Day Purdy got the loan of a lorry and drove a large party, +including several children, comfortably placed on straw, hassocks and +low chairs, to the Races a few miles out. Half Ballarat was making in +the same direction; and whoever owned a horse that was sound in the +wind and anything of a stepper had entered it for some item on the +programme. The Grand Stand, a bark shed open to the air on three sides, +was resorted to only in the case of a sudden downpour; the occupants of +the dust-laden buggies, wagonettes, brakes, carts and drays preferred +to follow events standing on their seats, and on the boards that served +them as seats. After the meeting, those who belonged to the +Urquhart-Glendinning set went on to Yarangobilly, and danced till long +pastmidnight on the broad verandah. It was nearly three o'clock before +Purdy brought his load safely home. Under the round white moon, the +lorry was strewn with the forms of sleeping children. + +Early next morning while Polly, still only half awake, was pouring out +coffee and giving Richard who, poor fellow, could not afford to leave +his patients, an account of their doings--with certain omissions, of +course: she did not mention the glaring indiscretion Agnes Glendinning +had been guilty of, in disappearing with Mr. Henry Ocock into a dark +shrubbery--while Polly talked, the postman handed in two letters, which +were of a nature to put balls and races clean out of her head. The +first was in Mrs. Beamish's ill-formed hand, and told a sorrowful tale. +Custom had entirely gone: a new hotel had been erected on the new road; +Beamish was forced to declare himself a bankrupt; and in a few days the +Family Hotel, with all its contents, would be put up at public auction. +What was to become of them, God alone knew. She supposed she would end +her days in taking in washing, and the girls must go out as servants. +But she was sure Polly, now so up in the world, with a husband doing so +well, would not forget the old friends who had once been so kind to +her--with much more in the same strain, which Polly skipped, in reading +the letter aloud. The long and short of it was: would Polly ask her +husband to lend them a couple of hundred pounds to make a fresh start +with, or failing that to put his name to a bill for the same amount? + +"Of course she hasn't an idea we were obliged to borrow money +ourselves," said Polly in response to Mahony's ironic laugh. "I +couldn't tell them that." + +"No ... nor that it's a perpetual struggle to keep the wolf from the +door," answered her husband, battering in the top of an egg with the +back of his spoon. + +"Oh, Richard dear, things aren't quite so bad as that," said Polly +cheerfully. Then she heaved a sigh. "I know, of course, we can't afford +to help them; but I DO feel so sorry for them"--she herself would have +given the dress off her back. "And I think, dear, if you didn't mind +VERY much, we might ask one of the girls up to stay with us ... till +the worst is over." + +"Yes, I suppose that wouldn't be impossible," said Mahony. "If you've +set your heart on it, my Polly. If, too, you can persuade Master Purdy +to forgo the comfort of your good feather-bed. And I'll see if I can +wring out a fiver for you to enclose in your letter." + +Polly jumped up and kissed him. "Purdy is going anyhow. He said only +last night he must look for lodgings near the Police Station." Here a +thought struck her; she coloured and smiled. "I'll ask Tilly first," +said she. + +Mahony laughed and shook his finger at her. "The best laid plans o' +mice and men! And what's one to say to a match-maker who is still +growing out of her clothes?" + +At this Polly clapped a hand over his mouth, for fear Ellen should hear +him. It was a sore point with her that she had more than once of late +had to lengthen her dresses. + +As soon as she was alone she sat down to compose a reply to Mrs. +Beamish. It was no easy job: she was obliged to say that Richard felt +unable to come to their aid; and, at the same time, to avoid touching +on his private affairs; had to disappoint as kindly as she could; to be +truthful, yet tactful. Polly wrote, and re-wrote: the business cost her +the forenoon. + +She could not even press Tilly to pack her box and come at once; for +her second letter that morning had been from Sara, who wrote that, +having decided to shake the dust of the colony off her feet, she wished +to pay them a flying visit before sailing, "POUR FAIRE MES ADIEUX." She +signed herself "Your affectionate sister Zara," and on her arrival +explained that, tired of continually instructing people in the +pronunciation of her name, she had decided to alter the spelling and be +done with it. Moreover, a little bird had whispered in her ear that, +under its new form, it fitted her rather "FRENCH" air and looks a +thousand times better than before. + +Descending from the coach, Zara eyed Polly up and down and vowed she +would never have known her; and, on the way home, Polly more than once +felt her sister's gaze fixed critically on her. For her part, she was +able to assure Zara that she saw no change whatever in her, since her +last visit--even since the date of the wedding. And this pleased Zara +mightily; for as she admitted, in removing hat and mantle, and passing +the damped corner of a towel over her face, she dreaded the ageing +effects of the climate on her fine complexion. Close as ever about her +own concerns, she gave no reason for her abrupt determination to leave +the country; but from subsequent talk Polly gathered that, for one +thing, Zara had found her position at the head of John's +establishment--"Undertaken in the first place, my dear, at immense +personal sacrifice!"--no sinecure. John had proved a regular martinet; +he had countermanded her orders, interfered about the household +bills--had even accused her of lining her own pocket. As for little +Johnny--the bait originally thrown out to induce her to accept the +post--he had long since been sent to boarding-school. "A thoroughly +bad, unprincipled boy!" was Zara's verdict. And when Polly, big with +pity, expostulated: "But Zara, he is only six years old!" her sister +retorted with a: "My dear, I know the world, and you don't," to which +Polly could think of no reply. + +Zara had announced herself for a bare fortnight's stay; but the man who +carried her trunk groaned and sweated under it, and was so insolent +about the size of the coin she dropped in his palm that Polly followed +him by stealth into the passage, to make it up to a crown. As usual +Zara was attired in the height of fashion. She brought a set of "the +hoops" with her--the first to be seen on Ballarat--and once more Polly +was torn between an honest admiration of her sister's daring, and an +equally honest embarrassment at the notice she attracted. Zara swam and +glided about the streets, to the hilarious amazement of the population; +floated feather-light, billowing here, depressing there, with all the +waywardness of a child's balloon; supported--or so it seemed--by two of +the tiniest feet ever bestowed on mortal woman. Aha! but that was one +of the chief merits of "the hoops," declared Zara; that, and the +possibility of getting still more stuff into your skirts without +materially increasing their weight. There was something in that, +conceded Polly, who often felt hers drag heavy. Besides, as she +reminded Richard that night, when he lay alternately chuckling and +snorting at woman's folly, custom was everything. Once they had smiled +at Zara appearing in a hat: "And now we're all wearing them." + +Another practical consideration that occurred to her she expressed with +some diffidence. "But Zara, don't you ... I mean ... aren't they very +draughty?" + +Zara had to repeat her shocked but emphatic denial in the presence of +Mrs. Glendinning and Mrs. Urquhart, both ladies having a mind to bring +their wardrobes up to date. They agreed that there was much to be said +in favour of the appliance, over and above its novelty. Especially +would it be welcome at those times when... But here the speakers +dropped into woman's mysterious code of nods and signs; while Zara, +turning modestly away, pretended to count the stitches in a +crochet-antimacassar. + +Yes, nowadays, as Mrs. Dr. Mahony, Polly was able to introduce her +sister to a society worthy of Zara's gifts; and Zara enjoyed herself so +well that, had her berth not been booked, she might have contemplated +extending her visit. She overflowed with gracious commendation. The +house--though, of course, compared with John's splendour, a trifle +plain and poky--was a decided advance on the store; Polly herself much +improved: "You DO look robust, my dear!" And--though Zara held her +peace about this--the fact of Mahony's being from home each day, for +hours at a stretch, lent an additional prop to her satisfaction. Under +these conditions it was possible to keep on good terms with her +brother-in-law. + +Zara's natty appearance and sprightly ways made her a favourite with +every one especially the gentlemen. The episcopal bazaar came off at +this time; and Zara had the brilliant idea of a bran-pie. This was the +success of the entertainment. From behind the refreshment-stall where, +with Mrs. Long, she was pouring out cups of tea and serving cheesecakes +and sausage-rolls by the hundred, Polly looked proudly across the +beflagged hall, to the merry group of which her sister was the centre. +Zara was holding her own, even with Mr. Henry Ocock; and Mr. Urquhart +had constituted himself her right hand. + +"Your sister is no doubt a most fascinating woman," said Mrs. Urquhart +from the seat with which she had been accommodated; and heaved a gentle +sigh. "How odd that she should never have married!" + +"I'm afraid Zara's too particular," said Polly. "It's not for want of +being asked." + +Her eyes met Purdy's as she spoke--Purdy had come up laden with empty +cups, a pair of infants' boots dangling round his neck--and they +exchanged smiles; for Zara's latest AFFAIRE DU COEUR was a source of +great amusement to them. + +Polly had assisted at the first meeting between her sister and Purdy +with very mixed feelings. On that occasion Purdy happened to be in +plain clothes, and Zara pronounced him charming. The next day, however, +he dropped in clad in the double-breasted blue jacket, the high boots +and green-veiled cabbage-tree he wore when on duty; and thereupon +Zara's opinion of him sank to null, and was not to be raised even by +him presenting himself in full dress: white-braided trousers, red faced +shell jacket, pill-box cap, cartouche box and cavalry sword. "La, +Polly! Nothing but a common policeman!" In vain did Polly explain the +difference between a member of the ordinary force and a mounted trooper +of the gold-escort; in vain lay stress on Richard's pleasure at seeing +Purdy buckle to steady work, no matter what. Zara's thoughts had taken +wing for a land where such anomalies were not; where you were not asked +to drink tea with the well-meaning constable who led you across a +crowded thoroughfare or turned on his bull's eye for you in a fog, +preparatory to calling up a hackney-cab. + +But the chilly condescension with which, from now on, Zara treated him +did not seem to trouble Purdy. When he ran in for five minutes of a +morning, he eschewed the front entrance and took up his perch on the +kitchen-table. From here, while Polly cooked and he nibbled half-baked +pastry, the two of them followed the progress of events in the parlour. + +Zara's arrival on Ballarat had been the cue for Hempel's reappearance, +and now hardly a day went by on which the lay-helper did not neglect +his chapel work, in order to pay what Zara called his "DEVOIRS." Slight +were his pretexts for coming: a rare bit of dried seaweed for bookmark; +a religious journal with a turned-down page; a nosegay. And though Zara +would not nowadays go the length of walking out with a dissenter--she +preferred on her airings to occupy the box-seat of Mr. Urquhart's +four-in-hand--she had no objection to Hempel keeping her company during +the empty hours of the forenoon when Polly was lost in domestic cares. +She accepted his offerings, mimicked his faulty speech, and was +continually hauling him up the precipice of self-distrust, only to let +him slip back as soon as he reached the top. + +One day Purdy entered the kitchen doubled up with laughter. In passing +the front of the house he had thrown a look in at the parlour-window; +and the sight of the prim and proper Hempel on his knees on the woolly +hearthrug so tickled his sense of humour that, having spluttered out +the news, back he went to the passage, where he crouched down before +the parlour-door and glued his eye to the keyhole. + +"Oh, Purdy, no! What if the door should suddenly fly open?" + +But there was something in Purdy's pranks that a laughter-lover like +Polly could never for long withstand. Here, now, in feigning to imitate +the unfortunate Hempel, he was sheerly irresistible. He clapped his +hands to his heart, showed the whites of his eyes, wept, gesticulated +and tore his hair; and Polly, after trying in vain to keep a straight +face, sat down and went off into a fit of stifled mirth--and when Polly +did give way, she was apt to set every one round her laughing, too. +Ellen's shoulders shook; she held a fist to her mouth. Even little +Trotty shrilled out her tinny treble, without knowing in the least what +the joke was. + +When the merriment was at its height, the front door opened and in +walked Mahony. An instant's blank amazement, and he had grasped the +whole situation--Richard was always so fearfully quick at +understanding, thought Polly ruefully. Then, though Purdy jumped to his +feet and the laughter died out as if by command, he drew his brows +together, and without saying a word, stalked into the surgery and shut +the door. + +Like a schoolboy who has been caned, Purdy dug his knuckles into his +eyes and rubbed his hindquarters--to the fresh delight of Trotty and +the girl. + +"Well, so long, Polly! I'd better be making tracks. The old man's on +the warpath." And in an undertone: "Same old grouser! Never COULD take +a joke." + +"He's tired. I'll make it all right," gave Polly back. + +--"It was only his fun, Richard," she pleaded, as she held out a linen +jacket for her husband to slip his arms into. + +"Fun of a kind I won't permit in my house. What an example to set the +child! What's more, I shall let Hempel know that he is being made a +butt of. And speak my mind to your sister about her heartless +behaviour." + +"Oh, don't do that, Richard. I promise it shan't happen again. It was +very stupid of us, I know. But Purdy didn't really mean it unkindly; +and he IS so comical when he starts to imitate people." And Polly was +all but off again, at the remembrance. + +But Mahony, stooping to decipher the names Ellen had written on the +slate, did not unbend. It was not merely the vulgar joke that had +offended him. No, what really rankled was the sudden chill his +unlooked-for entrance had cast over the group; they had scattered and +gone scurrying about their business, like a pack of naughty children +who had been up to mischief behind their master's back. He was the +schoolmaster--the spoilsport. They were all afraid of him. Even Polly. + +But here came Polly herself to say: "Dinner, dear," in her kindest +tone. She also put her arm round his neck and hugged him. "Not cross +any more, Richard? I know we behaved disgracefully." Her touch put the +crown on her words. Mahony drew her to him and kissed her. + +But the true origin of the unpleasantness, Zara, who in her ghoulish +delight at seeing Hempel grovel before her--thus Mahony worded +it--behaved more kittenishly than ever at table: Zara Mahony could not +so easily forgive; and for the remainder of her stay his manner to her +was so forbidding that she, too, froze; and to Polly's regret the old +bad relation between them came up anew. + +But Zara was enjoying herself too well to cut her visit short on +Mahony's account. "Besides, poor thing," thought Polly, "she has really +nowhere to go." What she did do was to carry her head very high in her +brother-in-law's presence; to speak at him rather than to him; and in +private to insist to Polly on her powers of discernment. "You may say +what you like, my dear--I can see you have a VERY GREAT DEAL to put up +with!" + +At last, however, the day of her departure broke, and she went off amid +a babble of farewells, of requests for remembrance, a fluttering of +pocket-handkerchiefs, the like of which Polly had never known; and to +himself Mahony breathed the hope that they had seen the last of Zara, +her fripperies and affectations. "Your sister will certainly fit better +into the conditions of English life." + +Polly cried at the parting, which might be final; then blew her nose +and dried her eyes; for she had a busy day before her. Tilly Beamish +had been waiting with ill-concealed impatience for Zara to vacate the +spare room, and was to arrive that night. + +Mahony was not at home to welcome the new-comer, nor could he be +present at high tea. When he returned, towards nine o'clock, he found +Polly with a very red face, and so full of fussy cares for her guest's +comfort--her natural kindliness distorted to caricature--that she had +not a word for him. One look at Miss Tilly explained everything, and +his respects duly paid he retired to the surgery, to indulge a smile at +Polly's expense. Here Polly soon joined him, Tilly, fatigued by her +journey and by her bounteous meal, having betaken herself early to bed. + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Mahony, not without a certain mischievous +satisfaction at his young wife's discomfiture. "And with the prospect +of a second edition to follow!" + +But Polly would not capitulate right off. "I don't think it's very kind +of you to talk like that, Richard," she said warmly. "People can't help +their looks." She moved about the room putting things straight, and +avoiding his eye. "As long as they mean well and are good.... But I +think you would rather no one ever came to stay with us, at all." + +Fixing her with meaning insistence and still smiling, Mahony opened his +arms. The next moment Polly was on his knee, her face hidden in his +shoulder. There she shed a few tears. "Oh, isn't she dreadful? I don't +know WHAT I shall do with her. She's been serving behind the bar, +Richard, for more than a year. And she's come expecting to be taken +everywhere and to have any amount of gaiety." + +At coach-time she had dragged a reluctant Purdy to the office. But as +soon as he caught sight of Tilly: "On the box, Richard, beside the +driver, with her hair all towsy-wowsy in the wind--he just said: 'Oh, +lor, Polly!' and disappeared, and that was the last I saw of him. I +don't know how I should have got on if it hadn't been for old Mr. +Ocock, who was down meeting a parcel. He was most kind; he helped us +home with her carpet-bag, and saw after her trunk. And, oh dear, what +do you think? When he was going away he said to me in the passage--so +loud I'm sure Tilly must have heard him--he said: 'Well! that's +something like a figure of a female this time, Mrs. Doc. As fine a +young woman as ever I see!'" + +And Polly hid her face again; and husband and wife laughed in concert. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +That night a great storm rose. Mahony, sitting reading after everyone +else had retired, saw it coming, and lamp in hand went round the house +to secure hasps and catches; then stood at the window to watch the +storm's approach. In one half of the sky the stars were still +peacefully alight; the other was hidden by a dense cloud, which came +racing along like a giant bat with outspread wings, devouring the stars +in its flight. The storm broke; there was a sudden shrill screeching, a +grinding, piping, whistling, and the wind hurled itself against the +house as if to level it with the ground; failing in this, it banged and +battered, making windows and doors shake like loose teeth in their +sockets. Then it swept by to wreak its fury elsewhere, and there was a +grateful lull out of which burst a peal of thunder. And now peal +followed peal, and the face of the sky, with its masses of swirling, +frothy cloud, resembled an angry sea. The lightning ripped it in fierce +zigzags, darting out hundreds of spectral fangs. It was a magnificent +sight. + +Polly came running to see where he was, the child cried, Miss Tilly +opened her door by a hand's-breadth, and thrust a red, puffy face, +framed in curl-twists, through the crack. Nobody thought of sleep while +the commotion lasted, for fear of fire: once alight, these exposed +little wooden houses blazed up like heaps of shavings. The clock-hands +pointed to one before the storm showed signs of abating. Now, the rain +was pouring down, making an ear-splitting din on the iron roof and +leaping from every gutter and spout. It had turned very cold. Mahony +shivered as he got into bed. + +He seemed hardly to have closed an eye when he was wakened by a loud +knocking; at the same time the wire of the night-bell was almost +wrenched in two. He sat up and looked at his watch. It wanted a few +minutes to three; the rain was still falling in torrents, the wind +sighed and moaned. Wild horses should not drag him out on such a night! +Thrusting his arms into the sleeves of his dressing-gown, he threw up +the parlour window. "Who's there?" The hiss of the rain cut his words +through. + +A figure on the doorstep turned at the sound. "Is this a doctor's? I +wuz sent here. Doctor! for God's sake ..." + +"What is it? Stop a minute! I'll open the door." + +He did so, letting in a blast of wind and a rush of rain that flooded +the oilcloth. The intruder, off whom the water streamed, had to shout +to make himself audible. + +"It's me--Mat Doyle's me name! It's me wife, doctor; she's dying. I've +bin all night on the road. Ah, for the love of--" + +"Where is it?" Mahony put his hand to the side of his mouth, to keep +his words from flying adrift in the wind. + +"Paddy's Rest. You're the third I've bin to. Not one of the dirty +dogs'ull stir a leg! Me girl may die like a rabbit for all they +care."-- The man's voice broke, as he halloed particulars. + +"Paddy's Rest? On a night like this? Why, the creek will be out." + +"Doctor! you're from th' ould country, I can hear it in your lip. +Haven't you a wife, too, doctor? Then show a bit o' mercy to mine!" + +"Tut, tut, man, none of that!" said Mahony curtly. "You should have +bespoken me at the proper time to attend your wife.--Besides, there'll +be no getting along the road to-night." + +The other caught the note of yielding. "Sure an' you'd go out, doctor +dear, without thinkin', to save your dog if he was drownin'. I've got +me buggy down there; I'll take you safe. And you shan't regret it; I'll +make it worth your while, by the Lord Harry I will!" + +"Pshaw!"--Mahony opened the door of the surgery and struck a match. It +was a rough grizzled fellow--a "cocky," on his own showing--who +presented himself in the lamplight. His wife had fallen ill that +afternoon. At first everything seemed to be going well; then she was +seized with fits, had one fit after another, and all but bit her tongue +in two. There was nobody with her but a young girl he had fetched from +a mile away. He had meant, when her time came, to bring her to the +District Hospital. But they had been taken unawares. While he waited he +sat with his elbows on his knees, his face between his clenched fists. + +In dressing, Mahony reassured Polly, and instructed her what to say to +people who came inquiring after him; it was unlikely he would be back +before afternoon. Most of the patients could wait till then. The one +exception, a case of typhoid in its second week, a young Scotch +surgeon, Brace, whom he had obliged in a similar emergency, would no +doubt see for him--she should send Ellen down with a note. And having +poured Doyle out a nobbler and put a flask in his own pocket, Mahony +reopened the front door to the howl of the wind. + +The lantern his guide carried shed only a tiny circlet of light on the +blackness; and the two men picked their steps gingerly along the +flooded road. The rain ran in jets off the brim of Mahony's hat, and +down the back of his neck. + +Having climbed into the buggy they advanced at a funeral pace, leaving +it to the sagacity of the horse to keep the track. At the creek, sure +enough, the water was out, the bridge gone. To reach the next bridge, +five miles off, a crazy cross-country drive would have been necessary; +and Mahony was for giving up the job. But Doyle would not acknowledge +defeat. He unharnessed the horse, set Mahony on its back, and himself +holding to its tail, forced the beast, by dint of kicking and lashing, +into the water; and not only got them safely across, but up the steep +sticky clay of the opposite bank. It was six o'clock and a cloudless +morning when, numb with cold, his clothing clinging to him like wet +seaweed, Mahony entered the wooden hut where the real work he had come +out to do began. + +Later in the day, clad in an odd collection of baggy garments, he sat +and warmed himself in the sun, which was fast drawing up in the form of +a blankety mist the moisture from the ground. He had successfully +performed, under the worst possible conditions, a ticklish operation; +and was now so tired that, with his chin on his chest, he fell fast +asleep. + +Doyle wakened him by announcing the arrival of the buggy. The good man, +who had more than one nobbler during the morning could not hold his +tongue, but made still another wordy attempt to express his gratitude. +"Whither me girl lives or dies, it'll not be Mat Doyle who forgits what +you did for him this night, doctor! An' if iver you want a bit o' work +done, or some one to do your lyin' awake at night for you, just you +gimme the tip. I don't mind tellin' you now, I'd me shootin'-iron +here"--he touched his right hip--"an' if you'd refused--you was the +third, mind you,--I'd have drilled you where you stood, God damn me if +I wouldn't!" + +Mahony eyed the speaker with derision. "Much good that would have done +your wife, you fathead! Well, well, we'll say nothing to MINE, if you +please, about anything of that sort." + +"No, may all the saints bless 'er and give 'er health! An' as I say, +doctor...." In speaking he had drawn a roll of bank-notes from his +pocket, and now he tried to stuff them between Mahony's fingers. + +"What's this? My good man, keep your money till it's asked for!" and +Mahony unclasped his hands, so that the notes fluttered to the ground. + +"Then there let 'em lay!" + +But when, in clothes dried stiff as cardboard, Mahony was rolling +townwards--his coachman, a lad of some ten or twelve who handled the +reins to the manner born--as they went he chanced to feel in his coat +pocket, and there found five ten-pound notes rolled up in a neat bundle. + +The main part of the road was dry and hard again; but all dips and +holes were wells of liquid mud, which bespattered the two of them from +top to toe as the buggy bumped carelessly in and out. Mahony diverted +himself by thinking of what he could give Polly with this sum. It would +serve to buy that pair of gilt cornices or the heavy gilt-framed +pierglass on which she had set her heart. He could see her, pink with +pleasure, expostulating: "Richard! What WICKED extravagance!" and hear +himself reply: "And pray may my wife not have as pretty a parlour as +her neighbours?" He even cast a thought, in passing, on the pianoforte +with which Polly longed to crown the furnishings of her room--though, +of course, at least treble this amount would be needed to cover its +cost.-- But a fig for such nonsense! He knew but one legitimate use to +make of the unexpected little windfall, and that was, to put it by for +a rainy day. "At my age, in my position, I OUGHT to have fifty pounds +in the bank!"--times without number he had said this to himself, with a +growing impatience. But he had not yet managed to save a halfpenny. +Thrive as the practice might, the expenses of living held even pace +with it. And now, having got its cue, his brain started off again on +the old treadmill, reckoning, totting up, finding totals, or more often +failing to find them, till his head was as hot as his feet were cold. +To-day he could not think clearly at all. + +Nor the next day either. By the time he reached home he was conscious +of feeling very ill: he had lancinating pains in his limbs, a chill +down his spine, an outrageous temperature. To set out again on a round +of visits was impossible. He had just to tumble into bed. + +He got between the sheets with that sense of utter well-being, of +almost sensual satisfaction, which only one who is shivering with fever +knows. And at first very small things were enough to fill him with +content: the smoothness of the pillow's sleek linen; the shadowy light +of the room after long days spent in the dusty glare outside; the +possibility of resting, the knowledge that it was his duty to rest; +Polly's soft, firm hands, which were always of the right +temperature--warm in the cold stage, cool when the fever scorched him, +and neither hot nor cold when the dripping sweats came on. But as the +fever declined, these slight pleasures lost their hold. Then he was +ridden to death by black thoughts. Not only was day being added to day, +he meanwhile not turning over a penny; but ideas which he knew to be +preposterous insinuated themselves in his brain. Thus, for hours on end +he writhed under the belief that his present illness was due solely to +the proximity of the Great Swamp, and lay and cursed his folly in +having chosen just this neighbourhood to build in. Again, there was the +case of typhoid he had been anxious about, prior to his own breakdown: +under his LOCUM, peritonitis had set in and carried off the patient. At +the time he had accepted the news from Polly's lips with +indifference--too ill to care. But a little later the knowledge of what +it meant broke over him, and he suffered the tortures of the damned. +Not Brace; he alone would be held responsible for the death; and +perhaps not altogether unjustly. Lying there, a prey to morbid +apprehensions, he rebuilt the case in memory, struggling to recall each +slight variation in temperature, each swift change for better or worse; +but as fast as he captured one such detail, his drowsy brain let the +last but one go, and he had to beat it up anew. During the night he +grew confident that the relatives of the dead woman intended to take +action against him, for negligence or improper attendance. + +An attempt to speak of these devilish imaginings to wife and friend was +a failure. He undertook it in a fit of desperation, when it seemed as +if only a strong and well grounded opposition would save his reason. +But this was just what he could not get. Purdy, whom he tried first, +held the crude notion that a sick person should never be gainsaid; and +soothingly sympathised and agreed, till Mahony could have cried aloud +at such blundering stupidity. Polly did better; she contradicted him. +But not in the right way. She certainly pooh-poohed his idea of the +nearness of Yuille's Swamp making the house unhealthy; but she did not +argue the matter, step by step, and CONVINCE him that he was wrong. She +just laughed at him as at a foolish child, and kissed him, and tucked +him in anew. And when it came to the typhoid's fatal issue, she had not +the knowledge needed to combat him with any chance of success. She +heard him anxiously out, and allowed herself to be made quite nervous +over a possible fault on his part, so jealous was she for his growing +reputation. + +So that in the end it was he who had to comfort her. + +"Don't take any notice of what I say to-day, wife. It's this blessed +fever.... I'm light-headed, I think." + +But he could hear her uneasily consulting with Purdy in the passage. + +It was not till his pulse beat normally again that he could smile at +his exaggerated fears. Now, too, reviving health brought back a +wholesome interest in everyday affairs. He listened with amusement to +Polly's account of the shifts Purdy was reduced to, to enter the house +unseen by Miss Tilly. On his faithful daily call, the young man would +creep round by the back door, and Tilly was growing more and more irate +at her inability to waylay him. Yes, Polly was rather redly forced to +admit, she HAD abetted him in his evasions. ("You know, Poll, I might +just as well tie myself up to old Mother B. herself and be done with +it!") Out of sheer pique Tilly had twice now accepted old Mr. Ocock's +invitation to drive with him. Once, she had returned with a huge bag of +lollies; and once, with a face like a turkey-cock. Polly couldn't help +thinking ... no, really, Richard, she could not! ... that perhaps +something might COME of it. He should not laugh; just wait and see. + +Many inquiries had been made after him. People had missed their doctor, +it seemed, and wanted him back. It was a real red-letter day when he +could snap to the catches of his gloves again, and mount the step of a +buggy. + +He had instructed Purdy to arrange for the hire of this vehicle, +saddle-work being out of the question for him in the meantime. And on +his first long journey--it led him past Doyle's hut, now, he was sorry +to see, in the hands of strangers; for the wife, on the way to making a +fair recovery, had got up too soon, overtaxed her strength and died, +and the broken-hearted husband was gone off no one knew where--on this +drive, as mile after mile slid from under the wheels, Mahony felt how +grateful was the screen of a hood between him and the sun. + +While he was laid up, the eternal question of how to live on his income +had left him, relatively speaking, in peace. He had of late adopted the +habit of doing his scraping and saving at the outset of each quarter, +so as to get the money due to Ocock put by betimes. His illness had +naturally made a hole in this; and now the living from hand to mouth +must begin anew. + +With what remained of Doyle's money he proposed to settle his account +at the livery-stable. Then the unexpected happened. His +reappearance--he looked very thin and washed-out--evidently jogged a +couple of sleepy memories. Simultaneously two big bills were paid, one +of which he had entirely given up. In consequence, he again found +himself fifty pounds to the good. And driving to Ocock's office, on +term day, he resolved to go on afterwards to the Bank of Australasia +and there deposit this sum. + +Grindle, set off by a pair of flaming "sideboards," himself ushered +Mahony into the sanctum, and the affair was disposed of in a trice. +Ocock was one of the busiest of men nowadays--he no longer needed to +invent sham clients and fictitious interviews--and he utilised the few +odd minutes it took to procure a signature, jot down a note, open a +drawer, unlock a tin box to remark abstractedly on the weather and put +a polite inquiry: "And your good lady? In the best of health, I trust?" + +On emerging from the inner room, Mahony saw that the places formerly +filled by Tom and Johnny were occupied by strangers; and he was +wondering whether it would be indiscreet to ask what had become of the +brothers, when Ocock cut across his intention. "By the way, Jenkins, +has that memorandum I spoke of been drawn up?" he turned to a clerk. + +With a sheet of foolscap in his hand, he invited Mahony with a beck of +the chin to re-enter his room. "Half a moment! Now, doctor, if you +happen to have a little money lying idle, I can put you on to a good +thing--a very good thing indeed. I don't know, I'm sure, whether you +keep an eye on the fluctuations of the share-market. If so, you'll no +doubt have noticed the ... let me say the extreme instability of +'Porepunkahs.' After making an excellent start, they have dropped till +they are now to be had at one-twentieth of their original value." + +He did not take much interest in mining matters was Mahony's reply. +However he knew something of the claim in question, if only because +several of his acquaintances had abandoned their shares, in disgust at +the repeated calls and the lack of dividends. + +"Exactly. Well now, doctor, I'm in a position to inform you that +'Porepunkahs' will very shortly be prime favourites on the market, +selling at many times their original figure--their ORIGINAL figure, +sir! No one with a few hundreds to spare could find a better +investment. Now is the time to buy." + +A few hundreds! ... what does he take me for? thought Mahony; and +declined the transaction off-hand. It was very good of Mr. Ocock to +think of him; but he preferred to keep clear of that kind of thing. + +"Quite so, quite so!" returned Ocock suavely, and dry-washed his hands +with the smile Mahony had never learnt to fathom. "Just as you please, +of course.--I'll only ask you, doctor, to treat the matter as strictly +confidential." + +"I suppose he says the same to everyone he tells," was Mahony's comment +as he flicked up his horse; and he wondered what the extent might be of +the lawyer's personal interest in the "Porepunkah Company." Probably +the number of shareholders was not large enough to rake up the capital. + +Still, the incident gave him food for thought, and only after closing +time did he remember his intention of driving home by way of the Bank. + +Later in the day he came back on the incident, and pondered his abrupt +refusal of Ocock's offer. There was nothing unusual in this: he never +took advice well; and, was it forced upon him, nine times out of ten a +certain inborn contrariness drove him to do just the opposite. Besides, +he had not yet learned to look with lenience on the rage for +speculation that had seized the people of Ballarat; and he held that it +would be culpable for a man of his slender means to risk money in the +great game.--But was there any hint of risk in the present instance? To +judge from Ocock's manner, the investment was as safe as a house, and +lucrative to a degree that made one's head swim. "Many times their +original figure!" An Arabian-nights fashion of growing rich, and no +mistake! Very different from the laborious grind of HIS days, in which +he had always to reckon with the chance of not being paid at all. That +very afternoon had brought him a fresh example of this. He was +returning from the Old Magpie Lead, where he had been called to a case +of scarlet fever, and saw himself covering the same road daily for some +time to come. But he had learned to adjudge his patients in a winking; +and these, he could swear to it, would prove to be non-payers; of a +kind even to cut and run, once the child was out of danger. Was he +really justified, cramped for money as he was, in rejecting the +straight tip Ocock had given him? And he debated this moot +point--argued his need against his principles--the whole way home. + +As soon as he had changed and seen his suspect clothing hung out to +air, he went impetuously back to Ocock's office. He had altered his +mind. A small gift from a grateful patient: yes, fifty, please; they +might bring him luck.--And he saw his name written down as the owner of +half a hundred shares. + +After this, he took a new interest in the mining sheet of the STAR; +turned to it, indeed, first of all. For a week, a fortnight, +"Porepunkahs" remained stationary; then they made a call, and, if he +did not wish to forfeit, he had to pay out as many shillings as he held +shares. A day or two later they sank a trifle, and Mahony's hopes with +them. There even came a day when they were not mentioned; and he gave +up his money for lost. But of a sudden they woke to life again, took an +upward bound, and within a month were quoted at five pounds--on rumour +alone. "Very sensitive indeed," said the STAR. Purdy, his only +confidant, went about swearing at himself for having let the few he +owned lapse; and Mahony itched to sell. He could now have banked two +hundred and fifty pounds. + +But Ocock laughed him out of countenance--even went so far as to pat +him on the shoulder. On no account was he to think of selling. "Sit +tight, doctor ... sit tight! Till I say the word." + +And Mahony reluctantly obeyed. + + + + +Chapter IX + +In the course of the following winter John Turnham came to stand as one +of two candidates for the newly proclaimed electoral district of +Ballarat West. + +The first news his relatives had of his intention was gleaned from the +daily paper. Mahony lit on the paragraph by chance one morning; said: +"Hullo! Here's something that will interest you, my dear," and read it +aloud. + +Polly laid down her knife and fork, pushed her plate from her, and went +pink with pleasure and surprise. "Richard! You don't mean it!" she +exclaimed, and got up to look over his shoulder. Yes, there it +was--John's name in all the glory of print. "Mr. John Millibank +Turnham, one of the foremost citizens and most highly respected +denizens of our marvellous metropolis, and a staunch supporter of +democratic rights and the interests of our people." Polly drew a deep +breath. "Do you know, Richard, I shouldn't wonder if he came to live on +Ballarat--I mean if he gets in.--Does Trotty hear? This is Trotty's +papa they're writing about in the papers.--Of course we must ask him to +stay with us." For this happened during an interregnum, when the spare +room was temporarily out of use. + +"Of course we must do nothing of the kind. Your brother will need the +best rooms Bath's can give him; and when he's not actually on the +hustings, he'll be hobnobbing in the bar, standing as many drinks as +there are throats in the crowd," gave back Mahony, who had the lowest +possible opinion of colonial politics. + +"Well, at least I can write and tell him how delighted we are," said +Polly, not to be done. + +"Find out first, my dear, if there's any truth in the report. I can +hardly think John would have left us in the dark to this extent." + +But John corroborated the news; and, in the letter Polly read out a +week later, announced the opening of his campaign for the coming month. + + +I SHALL FEEL MUCH OBLIGED TO YOUR HUSBAND IF HE WILL MEANWHILE EXERT +HIS INFLUENCE ON MY BEHALF. HE IS NO DOUBT ACQUAINTED PROFESSIONALLY +WITH MANY OF THE LEADING SQUATTERS ROUND BALLARAT, WHOM HE CAN INDUCE +TO SUPPORT MY CANDIDATURE. + + +"Umph!" said Mahony grumpily, and went on scooping out his egg. "We're +good enough to tout for him." + +"Ssh!" warned Polly, with a glance at Trotty. "Think what it means to +him, Richard, and to us, too. It will do your practice ever so much +good if he gets in--to be the brother-in-law of the member! We must +help all we can, dear." + +She was going driving to Yarangobilly that day with Archdeacon Long to +see a new arrival Richard had recently brought into the world; and now +she laid plans to kill two birds with one stone, entering into the +scheme with a gusto that astonished Mahony. "Upon my word, wife, I +believe you're glad to have something to do." + +"Will my own papa gimme a dolly? ... like Uncle Papa?" here piped +Trotty. + +"Perhaps. But you will have to be a VERY good girl, and not talk with +your mouth full or dirty your pinnies. Oh, here's a postscript!" Polly +had returned to the sheet, and was gloating over it. "John writes: + + +"ESPECIALLY MUST HE ENDEAVOUR TO WIN LAWYER OCOCK OVER TO MY SIDE. I +LAY GREAT WEIGHT ON O.'S SUPPORT. + + +"Oh, Richard, now ISN'T that unfortunate? I do hope it won't make any +difference to John's chances." + +Polly's dismay had good grounds. A marked coolness had sprung up +between her husband and the lawyer; and on no account, she knew, would +Richard consent to approach Mr. Henry. Some very hot remarks made by +the latter had been passed on to her by Mrs. Glendinning. She had not +dared to tell Richard the worst. + +The coolness dated from an afternoon when Tilly Beamish had burst into +the house in a state of rampant excitement. "Oh, Polly! oh, I say! my +dear, whatever do you think? That old cove--old O.--'as actually had +the cheek to make me a proposal." + +"Tilly!" gasped Polly, and flushed to the roots of her hair. "Oh, my +dear, I AM pleased!" For Polly's conscience was still somewhat tender +about the aid she had lent Purdy in his evasions. The two women kissed, +and Tilly cried a little. "It's certainly her first offer," thought +Mrs. Polly. Aloud, she asked hesitatingly: "And do you ... shall you +... I mean, are you going to accept him, Tilly?" + +But this was just where Tilly could not make up her mind: should she +take him, or should she not? For two whole days she sat about debating +the question; and Polly listened to her with all the sympathy and +interest so momentous a step deserved. + +"If you feel you could really learn to care for him, dear. Of course it +WOULD be nice for you to have a house of your own. And how happy it +would make poor mother to see you settled!" + +Tilly tore the last veil from her feelings, uttered gross confidences. +Polly knew well enough where her real inclination lay. "I've hoped +against hope, Poll, that a CERTAIN PERSON would come to the scratch at +last." Yes, it was true enough, he had nothing to offer her; but she +wasn't the sort to have stuck at that. "I'd have worked my hands to the +bone for 'im, Poll, if 'e'd ONLY said the word." The one drawback to +marriage with "you know 'oo" would have been his infirmity. "Some'ow, +Polly, I can't picture myself dragging a husband with a gammy leg at my +heels." From this, Tilly's mind glanced back to the suitor who had +honourably declared himself. Of course "old O." hadn't a great deal of +the gentleman about him; and their ages were unsuitable. "'E owns to +fifty-eight, and as you know, Poll, I'm only just turned twenty-five," +at which Polly drooped her head a little lower over the handkerchief +she was hemming, to avoid meeting her friend's eye. Poor dear Tilly! +she would never see thirty again; and she need hardly have troubled, +thought Polly, to be insincere with her. But in the same breath she +took back the reproach. A woman herself, she understood something of +the fear, and shame, and heartburning that had gone to the making of +the lie. Perhaps, too, it was a gentle hint from Tilly what age she now +wished to be considered. And so Polly agreed, and said tenderly: yes, +certainly, the difference was very marked. Meanwhile Tilly flowed on. +These were the two chief objections. On the other hand, the old boy was +ludicrously smitten; and she thought one might trust her, Tilly B., to +soon knock him into shape. It would also, no doubt, be possible to +squeeze a few pounds out of him towards assisting "pa and ma" in their +present struggle. Again, as a married woman she would have a chance of +helping Jinny to find a husband: "Though Jinn's gone off so, Polly, I +bet you'd hardly know her if you met 'er in the street." To end all, a +bird in hand, etc.; and besides, what prospects had she, if she +remained a spinster? + +So, when she was asked, Tilly accepted without further humming and +hawing an invitation to drive out in the smart dog-cart Mr. Ocock had +hired for the purpose; and Polly saw her off with many a small private +sign of encouragement. All went well. A couple of hours later Tilly +came flying in, caught Polly up in a bear's hug, and danced her round +the room. "My dear, wish me joy!--Oh, lor, Polly, I DO feel 'appy!" She +was wearing a large half-hoop of diamonds on her ring-finger: nothing +would do "old O." but that they should drive there and then to the +finest jeweller's in Sturt Street, where she had the pick of a trayful. +And now Mr. Ocock, all a-smirk with sheepish pride, was fetched in to +receive congratulations, and Polly produced refreshments; and healths +were drunk. Afterwards the happy couple dallied in the passage and +loitered on the doorstep, till evening was far advanced. + +It was Polly who, in clearing away, was struck dumb by the thought: +"But now whatever is to become of Miss Amelia?" + +She wondered if this consideration troubled the old man. Trouble there +was, of some sort: he called at the house three days running for a word +with Richard. He wore a brand-new pair of shepherd's-plaid trousers, a +choker that his work-stained hands had soiled in tying, a black coat, a +massive gold watch-chain. On the third visit he was lucky enough to +catch Mahony, and the door of the surgery closed behind them. + +Here Mr. Ocock sat on the extreme edge of a chair; alternately crushed +his wide-awake flat between his palms and expanded it again, as though +he were playing a concertina; and coughed out a wordy preamble. He +assured Mahony, to begin with, how highly he esteemed him. It was +because of this, because he knew doctor was as straight as a pound of +candles, that he was going to ask his advice on an awkward +matter--devilish awkward!--one nobody had any idea of either--except +Henry. And Henry had kicked up such a deuce of a row at his wanting to +marry again, that he was damned if he'd have anything more to do with +him. Besides, the doctor knew what lawyers were--the whole breed of +'em! Sharp as needles--especially Henry--but with a sort of squint in +their upper storey that made 'em see every mortal thing from the point +of view of law. And that was no good to him. What he needed was a plain +and honest, a ... he hesitated for a word and repeated, "a Honest +opinion;" for he only wanted to do the right thing, what was straight +and above board. And at last out it came: did "doc." think it would be +acting on the square, and not taking a low-down advantage of a female, +if he omitted to mention to "the future Mrs. O" that, up till six +months back, he had been obliged to ... well, he'd spit it out short +and say, obliged to report himself to the authorities at fixed +intervals? Women were such shy cattle, so damned odd! You never knew +how they'd take a thing like this. One might raise Cain over it, +another only laugh, another send him packing. He didn't want to let a +fine young woman like Matilda slip if he could help it, by dad he +didn't! But he felt he must either win her by fair dealing or not at +all. And having got the load off his chest, the old colonist swallowed +hard, and ran the back of his hand over his forehead. + +He had kept his eyes glued to the table-leg in speaking, and so saw +neither his hearer's involuntary start at the damaging disclosure, nor +the nervous tightening of the hand that lay along the arm of the chair. +Mahony sat silent, balancing a paper-knife, and fighting down a feeling +of extraordinary discomfort--his very finger-tips curled under the +strain. It was of little use to remind himself that, ever since he had +known him, Ocock had led a decent, God-fearing life, respected both in +his business relations and by his brethren of the chapel. Nor could he +spare more than a glance in passing for those odd traits in the old +man's character which were now explained: his itch for public approval; +his unvarying harshness towards the pair of incorrigibles who weighed +him down. At this moment he discounted even the integrity that had +prompted the confession. His attitude of mind was one of: why the deuce +couldn't the old fool have held his tongue? + +Oh, these unbidden, injudicious confidences! How they complicated life! +And as a doctor he was pestered with only too many; he was continually +being forced to see behind the scenes. Now, outsiders, too, must needs +choose him for the storehouse of their privacies. Himself he never made +a confidence; but it seemed as though just this buttoned-upness on his +part loosened people's tongues. Blind to the flags of warning he +hoisted in looks and bearing, they innocently proceeded, as Ocock had +done, to throw up insurmountable barriers. He could hear a new tone in +his own voice when he replied, and was relieved to know the old man +dull of perception. For now Ocock had finished speaking, and sat +perspiring with anxiety to learn his fate. Mahony pulled himself +together; he could, in good faith, tender the advice to let the dead +past bury its dead. Whatever the original fault had been--no, no, +please! ... and he raised an arresting hand--it was, he felt sure, long +since fully atoned. And Mr. Ocock had said a true word: women were +strange creatures. The revelation of his secret might shipwreck his +late-found happiness. It also, of course, might not--and personally +Mahony did not believe it would; for Ocock's buisness throve like the +green bay-tree, and Miss Tilly had been promised a fine two-storeyed +house, with bow-windows and a garden, and a carriage-drive up to the +door. Again, the admission might be accepted in peace just now, and +later on used as a weapon against him. In his, Mahony's, eyes, by far +the wisest course would be, to let the grass grow over the whole affair. + +And here he rose, abruptly terminating the interview. "You and I, too, +sir, if you please, will forget what has passed between us this +morning, and never come back on it. How is Tom getting on in the +drapery business? Does he like his billet?" + +But none the less as he ushered his visitor out, he felt that there was +a certain finality about the action. It was--as far as his private +feelings were concerned--the old man's moral exit from the scene. + +On the doorstep Ocock hoped that nothing that had been said would reach +"your dear little lady." "To 'Enry, too, doc., if you'll be so good, +mum's the word! 'Enry 'ud never forgive me, nay, or you eether, if it +got to 'is 'ears I'd bin an' let the cat outer the bag. An' 'e's got a +bit of a down on you as it is, for it 'avin' bin your place I met the +future Mrs. O. at." + +"My good man!" broke from Mahony--and in this address, which would +previously never have crossed his lips, all his sensations of the past +hour were summed up. "Has your son Henry the"--he checked himself; +"does he suppose I--I or my wife--had anything to do with it?" + +He turned back to the surgery hot with annoyance. This, too! Not enough +that he must be put out of countenance by indiscreet babbling; he must +also get drawn into family squabbles, even be held responsible for +them: he who, brooking no interference in his own life, demanded only +that those about him should be as intolerant as he. + +It all came from Polly's indiscriminate hospitality. His house was +never his own. And now they had the prospect of John and his electoral +campaign before them. And John's chances of success, and John's stump +oratory, and the backstair-work other people were expected to do for +him would form the main theme of conversation for many a day to come. + +Mrs. Glendinning confirmed old Ocock's words. + +She came to talk over the engagement with Polly, and sitting in the +parlour cried a little, and was sorry. But then "poor little Agnes" +cried so easily nowadays. Richard said her nerves had been shattered by +the terrible affair just before Christmas, when Mr. Glendinning had +tried first to kill her, and then to cut his own throat. + +Agnes said: "But I told Henry quite plainly, darling, that I would not +cease my visits to you on that account. It is both wrong and foolish to +think you or Dr. Mahony had anything to do with it--and after the +doctor was so kind, too, so VERY kind, about getting poor Mr. +Glendinning into the asylum. And so you see, dear, Henry and I have had +quite a disagreement"; and Agnes cried again at the remembrance. "Of +course, I can sympathise with his point of view.... Henry is so +ambitious. All the same, dearest, it's not quite so bad--is it?--as he +makes out. Matilda is certainly not very COMME IL FAUT--you'll forgive +my saying so, love, won't you? But I think she will suit Henry's father +in every way. No, the truth is, the old gentleman has made a great deal +of money, and we naturally expected it to fall to Henry at his death; +no one anticipated his marrying again. Not that Henry really needs the +money; he is getting on so well; and I have.... I shall have plenty, +too, by and by. But you know, love, what men are." + +"Dearest Agnes! ... don't fret about it. Mr. Henry thinks too much of +you, I'm sure, to be vexed with you for long. And when he looks at it +calmly, he'll see how unfair it is to make us responsible. I'm like +you, dear; I can't consider it a misfortune. Tilly is not a lady; but +she's a dear, warm-hearted girl and will make the old man a good wife. +I only hope though, Agnes, Mr. Henry won't say anything to Richard. +Richard is so touchy about things of that sort." + +The two women kissed, Polly with feelings of the tenderest affection: +the fact that, on behalf of their friendship, Agnes had pitted her will +against Mr. Henry's, endeared her to Polly as nothing else could have +done. + +But when, vigilant as a mother-hen, she sought to prepare her husband +for a possible unpleasantness, she found him already informed; and her +well-meant words were like a match laid to his suppressed indignation. + +"In all my born days I never heard such impudence!" + +He turned embarrassingly cool to Tilly. And Tilly, innocent of offence +and quite unskilled in deciphering subtleties, put this sudden change +of front down to jealousy, because she was going to live in a grander +house than he did. For the same reason he had begun to turn up his nose +at "Old O.," or she was very much mistaken; and in vain did Polly +strive to convince her that she was in error. "I don't know anyone +Richard has a higher opinion of!" + +But it was a very uncomfortable state of things; and when a message +arrived over the electric telegraph announcing the dangerous illness of +Mrs. Beamish, distressed though she was by the news, Polly could not +help heaving a tiny sigh of relief. For Tilly was summoned back to +Melbourne with all speed, if she wished to see her mother alive. + +They mingled their tears, Polly on her knees at the packing, Tilly +weeping whole-heartedly among the pillows of the bed. + +"If it 'ad only been pa now, I shouldn't have felt it half so much," +and she blew her nose for the hundredth time. "Pa was always such a rum +old stick. But poor ma ... when I THINK how she's toiled and moiled 'er +whole life long, to keep things going. She's 'ad all the pains and none +of the pleasures; and now, just when I was hoping to be able to give +'er a helping hand, THIS must happen." + +The one bright spot in Tilly's grief was that the journey would be made +in a private conveyance. Mr. Ocock had bought a smart gig and was +driving her down himself; driving past the foundations of the new +house, along the seventy odd miles of road, right up to the door of the +mean lodging in a Collingwood back street, where the old Beamishes had +hidden their heads. "If only she's able to look out of the window and +see me dash up in my own turn-out!" said Tilly. + +Polly fitted out a substantial luncheon-basket, and was keenest +sympathy to the last. But Mahony was a poor dissembler; and his sudden +thaw, as he assisted in the farewell preparations, could, Polly feared, +have been read aright by a child. + +Tilly hugged Polly to her, and gave her kiss after kiss. "I shall NEVER +forget 'ow kind you've been, Poll, and all you've done for me. I've had +my disappointments 'ere, as you know; but p'raps after all it'll turn +out to be for the best. One o' the good sides to it anyhow is that you +and me'll be next-door neighbours, so to say, for the rest of our +lives. And I'll hope to see something of you, my dear, every blessed +day. But you'll not often catch me coming to this house, I can tell you +that! For, if you won't mind me saying so, Poll, I think you've got one +of the queerest sticks for a husband that ever walked this earth. Blows +hot one day and cold the next, for all the world like the wind in +spring. And without caring twopence whose corns 'e treads on."--Which, +thought Polly, was but a sorry return on Tilly's part for Richard's +hospitality. After all, it was his house she had been a guest in. + +Such were the wheels within wheels. And thus it came about that, when +the question rose of paving the way for John Turnham's candidature, +Mahony drew the line at approaching Henry Ocock. + + + + +Chapter X + +John drove from Melbourne in a drag and four, accompanied by numerous +friends and well-wishers. A mile or so out of Ballarat, he was met by a +body of supporters headed by a brass band, and escorted in triumph to +the George Hotel. Here, the horses having been led away, John at once +took the field by mounting the box-seat of the coach and addressing the +crowd of idlers that had gathered round to watch the arrival. He got an +excellent hearing--so Jerry reported, who was an eye and ear-witness of +the scene--and was afterwards borne shoulder-high into the hotel. + +With Jerry at his heels, Mahony called at the hotel that evening. He +found John entertaining a large impromptu party. The table of the +public dining-room was disorderly with the remains of a liberal meal; +napkins lay crushed and flung down among plates piled high with empty +nutshells; the cloth was wine-stained, and bestrewn with ashes and +breadcrumbs, the air heady with the fumes of tobacco. Those of the +guests who still lingered at the table had pushed their chairs back or +askew, and sat, some a-straddle, some even with their feet on the +cloth. John was confabbing with half a dozen black-coats in a corner. +Each held a wineglass in his hand from which he sipped, while John, +legs apart, did all the talking, every now and then putting out his +forefinger to prod one of his hearers on the middle button of the +waistcoat. It was some time before he discovered the presence of his +relatives; and Mahony had leisure to admire the fashion in which, this +corner-talk over, John dispersed himself among the company; drinking +with this one and that; glibly answering questions; patting a +glum-faced brewer on the back; and simultaneously checking over, with +an oily-haired agent, his committee-meetings for the following days. +His customary arrogance and pompousness of manner were laid aside. For +the nonce, he was a simple man among men. + +Then espying them, he hurried over, and rubbing his hands with pleasure +said warmly: "My dear Mahony, this is indeed kind! Jerry, my lad, how +do, how do? Still growing, I see! We'll make a fine fellow of you +yet.-- Well, doctor! ... we've every reason, I think, to feel satisfied +with the lie of the land." + +But here he was snatched from them by an urgent request for a +pronouncement--"A quite informal word, sir, if you'll be so good,"--on +the vexed question of vote by ballot. And this being a pet theme of +John's, and a principle he was ready to defend through thick and thin, +he willingly complied. + +Mahony had no further talk with him. The speech over--it was a concise +and spirited utterance, and, if you were prepared to admit the efficacy +of the ballot, convincing enough--Mahony quietly withdrew. He had to +see a patient at eleven. Polly, too, would probably be lying awake for +news of her brother. + +As he threw back his braces and wound up his watch, he felt it +incumbent on him to warn her not to pitch her hopes too high. "You +mustn't expect, my dear, that your brother's arrival will mean much to +us. He is now a public man, and will have little time for small people +like ourselves. I'm bound to admit, Polly, I was very favourably +impressed by the few words I heard him say," he added. + +"Oh, Richard, I'm SO glad!" and Polly, who had been sitting on the edge +of the bed, stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss. + +As Mahony predicted, John's private feelings went down before the +superior interests of his campaign. Three days passed before he found +time to pay his sister a visit; and Polly, who had postponed a washing, +baked her richest cakes and pastries, and clad Trotty in her Sunday +best each day of the three: Polly was putting a good face on the +matter, and consoling herself with Jerry's descriptions of John's +triumphs. How she wished she could hear some of the speechifying! But +Richard would never consent; and electioneering did certainly seem, +from what Jerry said, a very rough-and-ready business--nothing for +ladies. Hence her delight knew no bounds when John drove up +unexpectedly late one afternoon, between a hard day's personal +canvassing and another of the innumerable dinners he had to eat his way +through. Tossing the reins to the gentleman who sat next him, he jumped +out of the wagonette--it was hung with placards of "Vote for +Turnham!"--and gave a loud rat-a-tat at the door. + +Forgetting in her excitement that this was Ellen's job, Polly opened to +him herself, and drew him in. "John! How pleased I am to see you!" + +"My dear girl, how are you? God bless me, how you've altered! I should +never have known you." He held her at arm's length, to consider her. + +"But you haven't changed in the least, John. Except to grow younger.-- +Richard, here's John at last!--and Trotty, John ... here's Trotty!-- +Take your thumb out of your mouth, naughty girl!--She's been watching +for you all day, John, with her nose to the window." And Polly pushed +forward the scarlet, shrinking child. + +John's heartiness suffered a distinct check as his eyes lit on Trotty, +who stood stiff as a bit of Dresden china in her bunchy starched +petticoats. "Come here, Emma, and let me look at you." Taking the fat +little chin between thumb and first finger, he turned the child's face +up and kept it so, till the red button of a mouth trembled, and the +great blue eyes all but ran over. "H'm! Yes ... a notable resemblance +to her mother. Ah, time passes, Polly my dear--time passes!" He sighed. +--"I hope you mind your aunt, Emma, and are properly grateful to her?" + +Abruptly quitting his hold, he swept the parlour with a glance. "A very +snug little place you have here, upon my word!" + +While Polly, with Trotty pattering after, bustled to the larder, Mahony +congratulated his brother-in-law on the more favourable attitude +towards his election policy which was becoming evident in the local +press. John's persuasive tongue was clearly having its effect, and the +hostility he had met with at the outset of his candidature was yielding +to more friendly feelings on all sides. John was frankly gratified by +the change, and did not hesitate to say so. When the wine arrived they +drank to his success, and Polly's delicacies met with their due share +of praise. Then, having wiped his mouth on a large silk handkerchief, +John disclosed the business object of his call. He wanted specific +information about the more influential of their friends and +acquaintances; and here he drew a list of names from his pocket-book. +Mahony, his chin propped on the flaxen head of the child, whom he +nursed, soon fell out of the running for Polly proved far the cleverer +at grasping the nature of the information John sought, and at retailing +it. And John complimented her on her shrewdness, ticked off names, took +notes on what she told him; and when he was not writing sat tapping his +thick, carnation-red underlip, and nodding assent. It was arranged that +Polly should drive out with him next day to Yarangobilly, by way of +Dandaloo; while for the evening after they plotted a card-party, at +which John might come to grips with Archdeacon Long. John expected to +find the reverend gentleman a hard nut to crack, their views on the +subject of a state aid to religion being diametrically opposed. Polly +thought a substantial donation to the chancel-fund might smooth things +over, while for John to display a personal interest in Mrs. Long's +charities would help still more. Then there were the Ococks. The old +man could be counted on, she believed; but John might have some +difficulty with Mr. Henry--and here she initiated her brother into the +domestic differences which had split up the Ocock family, and prevented +Richard from approaching the lawyer. John, who was in his most +democratic mood, was humorous at the expense of Henry, and declared the +latter should rather wish his father joy of coming to such a fine, +bouncing young wife in his old age. The best way of getting at Mr. +Henry, Polly considered, would be for Mrs Glendinning to give a +luncheon or a bushing-party, with the lawyer among the guests: "Then +you and I, John, could drive out and join them--either by chance or +invitation, as you think best." Polly was heart and soul in the affair. + +But business over, she put several straight questions about the boy, +little Johnny--Polly still blamed herself for having meekly submitted +to the child's removal from her charge--and was not to be fobbed off +with evasions. The unfavourable verdict she managed to worm out of +John: "Incorrigible, my dear Polly--utterly incorrigible! His masters +report him idle, disobedient, a bad influence on the other scholars," +she met staunchly with: "Perhaps it has something to do with the +school. Why not try another? Johnny had his good qualities; in many +ways was quite a lovable child." + +For the first time Mahony saw his wife and her eldest brother together +and he could not but be struck by Polly's attitude. Greatly as she +admired and reverenced John, there was not a particle of obsequiousness +in her manner, nor any truckling to his point of view; and she plainly +felt nothing of the peculiar sense of discomfort that invariably +attacked him, in John's presence. Either she was not conscious of her +brother's grossly patronising air, or, aware of it, did not resent it, +John having always been so much her superior in age and position. Or +was it indeed the truth that John did not try to patronise Polly? That +his overbearing nature recognised in hers a certain springy resistance, +which was not to be crushed? In other words, that, in a Turnham, +Turnham blood met its match. + +John re-took his seat in the front of the wagonette, Trotty was lifted +up to see the rosettes and streamers adorning the horses, the gentlemen +waved their hats, and off they went again at a fine pace, and with a +whip-cracking that brought the neighbours to their windows. + +Polly had pink cheeks with it all, and even sought to excuse the meagre +interest John had shown in his daughter. "Trotty was only a baby in +arms when he saw her last. Besides, I think she reminded him too much +of her dear mother. For I'm sure, though he doesn't let it be seen, +John still feels his loss." + +"I wonder!" said Mahony slowly and with a strong downward inflection, +as he turned indoors. + +On the eve of the polling Polly had the honour of accompanying her +brother to a performance at the Theatre Royal. A ticket came for +Richard, too; but, as usual, he was at the last moment called out. So +Purdy took her on his arm and escorted her--not exactly comfortably; +for, said Polly, no one who had not tried it, knew how hard it was to +walk arm-in-arm with a lame person, especially if you did not want to +hurt his feelings--Purdy took her to the theatre, helped her to +unmuffle and to change her boots, and bore her company till her brother +arrived. They had seats in the centre of the front row of the dress +circle; all eyes were turned on them as they entered; and Polly's +appearance was the subject of audible and embarrassing comment. + +In every interval John was up and away, to shake a hand here, pass the +time of day there; and watching him with affectionate pride, Polly +wondered how Richard could ever have termed him "high-handed and +difficult." John had the knack, it seemed to her, of getting on with +people of every class, and of always finding the right word to say. But +as the evening advanced his seat remained empty even while the curtain +was up, and she was glad when, between the fourth and fifth acts, her +husband at last appeared. + +On his way to her Mahony ran into his brother-in-law, and John +buttonholed him to discuss with him the prospects of the morrow. As +they talked, their eyes rested on Polly's glossy black chignon; on the +nape of her white neck; on the beautiful, rounded young shoulders +which, in obedience to the fashion, stood right out of her blue silk +bodice. Mahony shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. +He could not imagine Polly enjoying her exposed position, and +disapproved strongly of John having left her. But for all answer to the +hint he threw out John said slowly, and with a somewhat unctuous +relish: "My sister has turned into a remarkably handsome woman!"--words +which sent the lightning-thought through Mahony that, had Polly +remained the insignificant little slip of a thing of earlier days, she +would not have been asked to fill the prominent place she did this +evening. + +John sent his adieux and excuses to Polly. He had done what was +expected of him, in showing himself at a public entertainment, and a +vast mass of correspondence lay unsorted on his desk. So Mahony moved +forward alone. + +"Oh, Richard, there you are! Oh dear, what you've missed! I never +thought there could be such acting." And Polly turned her great dark +eyes on her husband; they were moist from the noble sentiments of THE +TRUE BRITON. + +The day of the election broke, a gusty spring day cut up by stinging +hail-showers, which beat like fusillades on the galvanised iron roofs. +Between the showers, the sun shone in a gentian-blue sky, against which +the little wooden houses showed up crassly white. Ballarat made +holiday. Early as Mahony left home, he met a long line of conveyances +heading townwards--spring carts, dogcarts, double and single buggies, +in some of which, built to seat two only, five or six persons were +huddled. These and similar vehicles drew up in rows outside the +public-houses, where the lean, long-legged colonial horses stood +jerking at their tethers; and they were still there, still jerking, +when he passed again toward evening. On a huge poster the "Unicorn" +offered to lunch free all those "thinking men" who registered their +vote for "the one and only true democrat, the miners' friend and +tyrants' foe, John Turnham." + +In the hope of avoiding a crush Mahony drove straight to the +polling-booth. But already all the loafers and roughs in the place +seemed to be congregated round the entrance, after the polite custom of +the country to chivy, or boo, or huzza those who went in. In waiting +his turn, he had to listen to comments on his dress and person, to put +up with vulgar allusions to blue pills and black draughts. + +Just as he was getting back into his buggy John rode up, flanked by a +bodyguard of friends; John was galloping from booth to booth, to verify +progress and put the thumbscrew on wobblers. He beamed--as well he +might. He was certain to be one of the two members elected, and quite +likely to top the poll by a respectable majority. + +For once Mahony did not grumble at his outlying patients; was only too +thankful to turn his back on the town. It was pandemonium. Bands of +music, one shriller and more discordant than the next, marched up and +down the main streets--from the fifes and drums of the Fire Brigade, to +the kerosene-tins and penny-whistles of mere determined noise-makers. +Straggling processions, with banners that bore the distorted features +of one or other of the candidates, made driving difficult; and, to add +to the confusion, the schoolchildren were let loose, to overrun the +place and fly advertisement balloons round every corner.--And so it +went on till far into the night, the dark hours being varied by +torchlight processions, fireworks, free fights and orgies of +drunkenness. + +The results of the polling were promised for two o'clock the following +day. + +When, something after this hour Mahony reached home, he found Polly and +the gentle, ox-eyed Jinny Beamish, who was the present occupant of the +spare room, pacing up and down before the house. According to Jerry +news might be expected now at any minute. And when he had lunched and +changed his coat, Mahony, bitten by the general excitement, made his +way down to the junction of Sturt Street and the Flat. + +A great crowd blocked the approaches to the hustings. Here were the +four candidates, who, in attending the issue, strove to look decently +unconcerned. John had struck a quasi-Napoleonic attitude: his right +elbow propped in the cup of his left hand, he held his drooped chin +between thumb and forefinger, leaving it to his glancing black eyes to +reveal how entirely alive he was to the gravity of the moment. Standing +on the fringe of the crowd, Mahony listened to the piebald jokes and +rude wit with which the people beguiled the interim; and tried to +endure with equanimity the jostling, the profane language and offensive +odours, by which he was assailed. Half an hour elapsed before the +returning officer climbed the ladder at the back of the platform, and +came forward to announce the result of the voting: Mr. John Millibank +Turnham topped the poll with a majority of four hundred and fifty-two. +The crowd, which at sight of the clerk had abruptly ceased its fooling, +drowned his further statements in a roar of mingled cheers and boos. +The cheers had it; hats were tossed into the air, and loud cries for a +speech arose. John's advance to grip the railing led to a fresh +outburst, in which the weakening opposition was quashed by the singing +of: "When Johnny comes marching home!" and "Cheer, boys, cheer, For +home and mother country!"--an incongruity of sentiment that made Mahony +smile. And John, having repeatedly bowed his thanks from side to side, +joined in and sang with the rest. + +The opening of his speech was inaudible to Mahony. Just behind him +stood one of his brother-in-law's most arrant opponents, a butcher by +trade, and directly John began to hold forth this man produced a +cornet-a-piston and started to blow it. In vain did Mahony expostulate: +he seemed to have got into a very wasps'-nest of hostility; for the +player's friends took up the cudgels and baited him in a language he +would have been sorry to imitate, the butcher blaring away unmoved, +with the fierce solemnity of face the cornet demands. Mahony lost his +temper; his tormentors retaliated; and for a moment it looked as though +there would be trouble. Then a number of John's supporters, enraged by +the bellowing of the instrument, bore down and forcibly removed the +musician and his clique, Mahony along with them. + +Having indignantly explained, and shaken coat and collar to rights, he +returned to his place on the edge of the crowd. The speaker's deep +voice had gone steadily on during the disturbance. Indeed John might +have been born to the hustings. Interruptions did not put him out; he +was brilliant at repartee; and all the stock gestures of the public +speaker came at his call: the pounding of the bowl of one hand with the +closed fist of the other; the dramatic wave of the arm with which he +plumbed the depths or invited defiance; the jaunty standing-at-ease, +arms akimbo; the earnest bend from the waist when he took his hearers +into his confidence. At this moment he was gripping the rail of the +platform as though he intended to vault it, and asserting: "Our first +cry, then, is for men to people the country; our next, for +independence, to work out our own salvation. Yes, my friends, the +glorious future of this young and prosperous colony, which was once and +most auspiciously known as Australia Felix--blest, thrice-blest +Australia!--rests with ourselves alone. We who inhabit here can best +judge of her requirements, and we refuse to see her hampered in her +progress by the shackles of an ancient tradition. What suits our hoary +mother-country--God bless and keep her and keep us loyal to her!--is +but dry husks for us. England knows nothing of our most pressing needs. +I ask you to consider how, previous to 1855, that pretty pair of +mandarins, Lord John Russell and Earl Grey, boggled and botched the +crucial question of unlocking the lands even yet, gentlemen, the result +of their muddling lies heavy on us. And the Land Question, though first +in importance, is but one, as you know, of many"--and here John, +playing on the tips of five wide-stretched fingers, counted them off. +He wound up with a flaming plea for the creation and protection of +purely national industries. "For what, I would ask you, is the true +meaning of democracy in a country such as ours? What is, for us, the +democratic principle? The answer, my friends, is conservatism; yes, I +repeat it--conservatism!" ... and thus to a final peroration. + +In the braying and hurrahing that followed--the din was heightened by +some worthy mounting a barrel to move that "this yere Johnny Turnham" +was not a fit person to represent "the constitooency," by the barrel +being dragged from under him, and the speaker rolled in the mud; while +this went on Mahony stood silent, and he was still standing +meditatively pulling his whiskers when a sudden call for a doctor +reached his ear. He pushed his way to the front. + +How the accident happened no one knew. John had descended from the +platform to a verandah, where countless hands were stretched out to +shake his. A pile of shutters was leaning against the wall, and in some +unexplained fashion these had fallen, striking John a blow that knocked +him down. When Mahony got to him he was on his feet again, wiping a +drop of blood from his left temple. He looked pale, but pooh-poohed +injury or the idea of interfering with his audience's design; and +Mahony saw him shouldered and borne off. + +That evening there was a lengthy banquet, in which all the notables of +the place took part. Mahony's seat was some way off John's; he had to +lean forward, did he wish to see his brother-in-law. + +Towards eleven o'clock, just as he was wondering if he could slip out +unobserved, a hand was laid on his arm. John stood behind him, white to +the lips. "Can I have a word with you upstairs?" + +Here he confessed to a knife-like pain in his left side; the brunt of +the blow, it seemed, had met him slantways between rib and hip. A +cursory examination made Mahony look grave. + +"You must come back with me, John, and let me see to you properly." + +Having expressed the chief guest's regrets to the company, he ordered a +horse and trap, and helping John into it drove him home. And that night +John lay in their bed, letting out the groans he had suppressed during +the evening; while Polly snatched forty winks beside Jinny Beamish, and +Mahony got what sleep he could on the parlour sofa. + + + + +Chapter XI + +There for some weeks John was a prisoner, with a fractured rib encased +in strips of plaster. "In your element again, old girl!" Mahony chaffed +his wife, when he met her bearing invalid trays. + +"Oh, it doesn't all fall on me, Richard. Jinny's a great help--sitting +with John and keeping him company." + +Mahony could see it for himself. Oftenest when he entered the room it +was Jinny's black-robed figure--she was in mourning for her parents; +for Mrs. Beamish had sunk under the twofold strain of failure and +disgrace, and the day after her death it had been necessary to cut old +Beamish down from a nail--oftenest it was Jinny he found sitting behind +a curtain of the tester-bed, watching while John slept, ready to read +to him or to listen to his talk when he awoke. This service set Polly +free to devote herself to the extra cooking; and John was content. "A +most modest and unassuming young woman," ran his verdict on Jinny. + +Polly reported it to her husband in high glee. "Who could ever have +believed two sisters would turn out so differently? Tilly to get so ... +so ... well, you know what I mean ... and Jinny to improve as she has +done. Have you noticed, Richard, she hardly ever--really quite seldom +now--drops an h? It must all have been due to Tilly serving in that low +bar." + +By the time John was so far recovered as to exchange bed for sofa, it +had come to be exclusively Jinny who carried in to him the dainties +Polly prepared--the wife as usual was content to do the dirty work! +John declared Miss Jinny had the foot of a fay; also that his meals +tasted best at her hands. Jinny even succeeded in making Trotty fond of +her; and the love of the fat, shy child was not readily won. Entering +the parlour one evening Mahony surprised quite a family scene: John, +stretched on the sofa, was stringing cats'-cradles, Jinny sat beside +him with Trotty on her knee. + +On the whole, though, the child did not warm to her father. + +"Aunty, kin dat man take me away f'om you?" + +"That man? Why, Trotty darling, he's your father!" said Polly, shocked. + +"Kin 'e take me away f'om you and Uncle Papa?" + +"He could if he wanted to. But I'm sure he doesn't," answered her aunt, +deftly turning a well-rolled sheet of pastry. + +And righting her dolly, which she had been dragging upside down, Trotty +let slip her fears with the sovereign ease of childhood. + +From the kitchen Polly could hear the boom of John's deep bass: it made +nothing of the lath-and-plaster walls. Of course, shut up as he was, he +had to talk to somebody, poor fellow; and Richard was too busy to spare +him more than half an hour of an evening. Jinny was a good listener. +Through the crack of the door, Polly could see her sitting humbly +drinking in John's words, and even looking rather pretty, in her fair, +full womanliness. + +"Oh, Polly!" she burst out one day, after being held thus spellbound. +"Oh, my dear, what a splendid man your brother is! I feel sometimes I +could sink through the floor with shame at my ignorance, when 'e talks +to me so." + +But as time went on Mahony noticed that his wife grew decidedly +thoughtful; and if John continued to sing Jinny's praises, he heard +nothing more of it. He had an acute suspicion what troubled Polly; but +did not try to force her confidence. + +Then one afternoon, on his getting home, she came into the surgery +looking very perturbed, and could hardly find words to break a certain +piece of news to him. It appeared that not an hour previously, Jinny, +flushed and tearful, had lain on her neck, confessing her feelings for +John and hinting at the belief that they were returned. + +"Well, I think you might have been prepared for something of this sort, +Polly," he said with a shrug, when he had heard her out. "Convalescence +is notoriously dangerous for fanning the affections." + +"Oh, but I never DREAMT of such a thing, Richard! Jinny is a dear good +girl and all that, but she is NOT John's equal. And that he can even +THINK of putting her in poor Emma's place!--What shall I say to him?" + +"Say nothing at all. Your brother John is not the man to put up with +interference." + +"He longs so for a real home again, Polly darling," said Jinny, wiping +her eyes. "And HOW 'appy it will make me to fulfil 'is wish! Don't let +me feel unwelcome and an intruder, dear. I know I'm not nearly good +enough for 'im, and 'e could 'ave had the choice of ever such handsome +women. But 'e 'as promised to be patient with me, and to teach me +everything I ought to know." + +Polly's dismay at the turn of events yielded to a womanly sympathy with +her friend. "It's just like poor little Agnes and Mr. Henry over +again," was her private thought. For she could not picture John +stooping to guide and instruct. + +But she had been touched on a tender spot--that of ambitious pride for +those related to her--and she made what Mahony called "a real Turnham +attempt" to stand up to John. Against her husband's express advice. + +"For if your brother chooses to contract a mesalliance of this kind, +it's nobody's business but his own. Upon my word though, Polly, if you +don't take care, this house will get a bad name over the matches that +are made in it. You had better have your spare room boarded up, my +dear." + +Mahony was feeling particularly rasped by John's hoity-toity behaviour +in this connection. Having been nursed back to health, John went about +with his chin in the air, and hardly condescended to allude to his +engagement--let alone talk it over with his relatives. So Mahony +retired into himself--after all, the world of John's mind was so +dissimilar to his own that he did not even care to know what went on in +it. "The fellow has been caught on the hop by a buxom form and a +languishing eye," was how he dismissed the matter in thought. + +"I raise my wife to my own station, Mary. And you will greatly oblige +me by showing Jane every possible attention," was the only satisfaction +Polly could get from John, made in his driest tone. + +Before the engagement was a week old Tilly reappeared--she was to be +married from their house on the hither side of Christmas. At first she +was too full of herself and her own affairs to let either Polly or +Jinny get a word in. Just to think of it! That old cabbage-grower, +Devine, had gone and bought the block of land next the one Mr. O. was +building on. She'd lay a bet he would put up a house the dead spit of +theirs. Did ever anyone hear such cheek? + +At the news that was broken to her, the first time she paused for +breath, she let herself heavily down on a chair. + +"Well, I'm blowed!" was all she could ejaculate. "Blowed!... that's +what I am." + +But afterwards, when Jinny had left the room, she gave free play to a +very real envy and regret. "In all my life I never did! Jinn to be Mrs. +John! ... and, as like as not, the Honourable Mrs. John before she's +done. Oh, Polly, my dear, why EVER didn't I wait!" + +On being presented to John, however, she became more reconciled to her +lot. "'E's got a temper, your brother has, or I'm very much mistaken. +It won't be all beer and skittles for 'er ladyship. For Jinn hasn't a +scrap of spunk in 'er, Polly. She got so mopey the last year or two, +there was no doing anything with 'er. Now it was just the other way +round with me. No matter how black things looked, I always kept my +pecker up. Poor ma used to say I grew more like her, every day." + +And at a still later date: "No, Polly, my dear, I wouldn't change +places with the future Mrs. T. after all, thank you--not for Joseph! I +SAY! she'll need to mind her p's and q's." For Tilly had listened to +John explaining to Jinny what he expected of her, what she might and +might not do; and had watched Jinny sitting meekly by and saying yes to +everything. + +There was nothing in the way of the marriage; indeed, did it not take +place immediately, Jinny would have to look about her for a situation +of some kind; and, said John, that was nothing for HIS wife. His house +stood empty; he was very much in love; and pressed for the naming of +the day. So it was decided that Polly should accompany Jinny to +lodgings in Melbourne, help her choose her trousseau and engage +servants. Afterwards there would be a quiet wedding--by reason of +Jinny's mourning--at which Richard, if he could possibly contrive to +leave his patients, would give the bride away. Polly was to remain in +John's house while the happy couple were on honeymoon, to look after +the servants. This arrangement would also make the break less hard for +the child. Trotty was still blissfully unconscious of what had befallen +her. She had learnt to say "new mamma" parrot-wise, without +understanding what the words meant. And meanwhile, the fact that she +was to go with her aunt for a long, exciting coach-ride filled her +childish cup with happiness. As Polly packed the little clothes, she +thought of the night, six years before, when the fat, sleeping babe had +been laid in her arms. + +"Of course it's only natural John should want his family round him +again. But I SHALL miss the dear little soul," she said to her husband +who stood watching her. + +"What you need is a little one of your own, wife." + +"Ah, don't I wish I had!" said Polly, and drew a sigh. "That would make +up for everything. Still if it can't be, it can't." + +A few days before the set time John received an urgent summons to +Melbourne, and went on ahead, leaving Mahony suspecting him of a dodge +to avoid travelling EN FAMILLE. In order that his bride-elect should +not be put to inconvenience, John hired four seats for the three of +them; but: "He might just as well have saved his money," thought Polly, +when she saw the coach. Despite their protests they were packed like +herrings in a barrel--had hardly enough room to use their hands. +Altogether it was a trying journey. Jinny, worked on by excitement and +fatigue, took a fit of hysterics; Trotty, frightened by the many rough +strangers, cried and had to be nursed; and the whole burden of the +undertaking lay on Polly's shoulders. She had felt rather timid about +it, before starting; but was obliged to confess she got on better than +she expected. A kind old man sitting opposite, for instance--a splitter +he said he was--actually undid Jinny's bonnet-strings, and fetched +water for her at the first stoppage. + +Polly had not been in Melbourne since the year after her marriage, and +was looking forward intensely to the visit. She went laden with +commissions; her lady-friends gave her a list as long as her arm. +Richard, too, had entrusted her to get him second-hand editions of +various medical works, as well as a new stethoscope. Thirdly, she had +promised old Mr. Ocock to go to William's Town to meet Miss Amelia, who +even now was tossing somewhere on the Indian Ocean, and to escort the +poor young lady up to Ballarat. + +Having seen them start, Mahony went home to drink his coffee and read +his paper in a quiet that was new to him. John's departure had already +eased the strain. Then Tilly had been boarded out at the Methodist +minister's. Now, with the exit of Polly and her charges, a great peace +descended on the little house. The rooms lay white and still in the +sun, and though all doors stood open, there was not a sound to be heard +but the buzzing of the blowflies round the sweets of the flytraps. He +was free to look as glum as he chose of a morning if he had neuralgia; +or to be silent when worried over a troublesome case. No longer would +Miss Tilly's bulky presence and loud-voiced reiterations of her +prospects grate his nerves; or John's full-blooded absorption in +himself, and poor foolish Jinny's quavering doubts whether she would +ever be able to live up to so magnificent a husband, offend his sense +of decorum. + +Another reason he was glad to see the last of them was that, in the +long run, he had rebelled at the barefaced way they made use of Polly, +and took advantage of her good nature. She had not only cooked for them +and waited on them; he had even caught her stitching garments for the +helpless Jinny. This was too much: such extreme obligingness on his +wife's part seemed to detract from her personal dignity. He could never +though have got Polly to see it. Undignified to do a kindness? What a +funny, selfish idea! The fact was, there was a certain streak in +Polly's nature that made her more akin to all these good people than to +him--him with his unsociable leanings towards a hermit's cell; his +genuine need of an occasional hour's privacy and silence, in which to +think a few thoughts through to the end. + +On coming in from his rounds he turned out an old linen jacket that +belonged to his bachelor days, and raked up some books he had not +opened for an almost equally long time. He also steered clear of +friends and acquaintances, went nowhere, saw no one but his patients. +And Ellen, to whose cookery Polly had left him with many misgivings, +took things easy. "He's so busy reading, he never knows what he puts in +his mouth. I believe he'd eat his boot-soles, if I fried 'em up neat +wid a bit of parsley," she reported over the back fence on Doctor's odd +ways. + +During the winter months the practice had as usual fallen off. By now +it was generally beginning to look up again; but this year, for some +reason, the slackness persisted. He saw how lean his purse was, +whenever he had to take a banknote from it to enclose to Polly; there +was literally nothing doing, no money coming in. Then, he would +restlessly lay his book aside, and drawing a slip of paper to him set +to reckoning and dividing. Not for the first time he found himself in +the doctor's awkward quandary: how to be decently and humanly glad of a +rise in the health-rate. + +He had often regretted having held to the half-hundred shares he had +bought at Henry Ocock's suggestion; had often spent in fancy the sum +they would have brought in, had he sold when they touched their highest +figure. Such a chance would hardly come his way again. After the one +fictitious flare-up, "Porepunkahs" had fallen heavily--the first main +prospect-drive, at a depth of three hundred and fifty feet, had failed +to strike the gutter--and nowadays they were not even quoted. Thus had +ended his single attempt to take a hand in the great game. + +One morning he sat at breakfast, and thought over his weekly epistle to +Polly. In general, this chronicled items of merely personal interest. +The house had not yet been burnt down--her constant fear, when absent; +another doctor had got the Asylum; he himself stood a chance of being +elected to the Committee of the District Hospital. To-day, however, +there was more to tell. The English mail had come in, and the table was +strewn with foreign envelopes and journals. Besides the usual letters +from relatives, one in a queer, illiterate hand had reached him, the +address scrawled in purple ink on the cheapest note-paper. Opening it +with some curiosity, Mahony found that it was from his former +assistant, Long Jim. + +The old man wrote in a dismal strain. Everything had gone against him. +His wife had died, he was out of work and penniless, and racked with +rheumatism--oh, it was "a crewl climat"! Did he stop in England, only +"the house" remained to him; he'd end in a pauper's grave. But he +believed if he could get back to a scrap of warmth and the sun, he'd be +good for some years yet. Now he'd always known Dr. Mahony for the +kindest, most liberal of gentlemen; the happiest days of his life had +been spent under him, on the Flat; and if he'd only give him a lift +now, there was nothing he wouldn't do to show his gratitude. Doctor +knew a bit about him, too. Here, he couldn't seem to get on with folk +at all. They looked crooked at him, and just because he'd once been +spunky enough to try his luck overseas. Mahony pshawed and smiled; then +wondered what Polly would say to this letter. She it was who had been +responsible for packing the old man off. + +Unfolding the STAR, he ran his eye over its columns. He had garnered +the chief local news and was skimming the mining intelligence, when he +suddenly stopped short with an exclamation of surprise; and his grip on +the paper tightened. There it stood, black on white. "Porepunkahs" had +jumped to three pounds per share! What the dickens did that mean? He +turned back to the front sheet, to find if any clue to the claim's +renewed activity had escaped him; but sought in vain. So bolting the +rest of his breakfast, he hurried down to the town, to see if, on the +spot, he could pick up information with regard to the mysterious rise. + +The next few days kept him in a twitter of excitement. "Porepunkahs" +went on advancing--not by leaps and bounds as before, but slowly and +steadily--and threw off a dividend. He got into bed at night with a hot +head, from wondering whether he ought to hold on or sell out; and +inside a week he was off to consult the one person who was in a +position to advise him. Henry Ocock's greeting resembled an +embrace--"It evidently means a fortune for him"--and all trifling +personal differences were forgotten in the wider common bond. The +lawyer virtually ordered Mahony to "sit in", till he gave the word. By +this time "Porepunkahs" had passed their previous limit, and even paid +a bonus: it was now an open secret that a drive undertaken in an +opposite direction to the first had proved successful; the lead was +scored and seamed with gold. Ocock spoke of the stone, specimens of +which he had held in his hand--declared he had never seen its equal. + +But when the shares stood at fifty-three pounds each, Mahony could +restrain himself no longer; and, in spite of Ocock's belief that +another ten days would see a COUP, he parted with forty-five of the +half hundred he held. Leaving the odd money with the lawyer for +re-investment, he walked out of the office the possessor of two +thousand pounds. + +It was only a very ordinary late spring day; the season brought its +like by the score: a pale azure sky, against which the distant hills +looked purple; above these a narrow belt of cloud, touched, in its +curves, to the same hue. But to Mahony it seemed as if such a perfect +day had never dawned since he first set foot in Australia. His back was +eased of its burden; and, like Christian on having passed the wall +known as Salvation, he could have wept tears of joy. After all these +years of pinching and sparing he was out of poverty's grip. The +suddenness of the thing was what staggered him. He might have drudged +till his hair was grey; it was unlikely he would ever, at one stroke, +have come into possession of a sum like this.--And that whole day he +went about feeling a little more than human, and seeing people, places, +things, through a kind of beatific mist. Now, thank God, he could stand +on his own legs again; could relieve John of his bond, pay off the +mortgage on the house, insure his life before it was too late. And, +everything done, he would still have over a thousand pounds to his +credit. A thousand pounds! No longer need he thankfully accept any and +every call; or reckon sourly that, if the leakage on the roof was to be +mended, he must go without a new surtout. Best of all, he could now +begin in earnest to save. + +First, though, he allowed himself two very special pleasures. He sent +Polly a message on the electric telegraph to say that he would come +down himself to fetch her home. In secret he planned a little trip to +Schnapper Point. At the time of John's wedding he had been unable to +get free; this would be the first holiday he and Polly had ever had +together. + +The second thing he did was: to indulge the love of giving that was +innate in him; and of giving in a somewhat lordly way. He enjoyed the +broad grin that illumined Ellen's face at his unlooked-for generosity; +Jerry's red stammered thanks for the gift of the cob the boy had long +coveted. It did him good to put two ten-pound notes in an envelope and +inscribe Ned's name on it; he had never yet been able to do anything +for these poor lads. He also, without waiting to consult +Polly--fearing, indeed, that she might advise against it--sent off the +money to Long Jim for the outward voyage, and a few pounds over. For +there were superstitious depths in him; and, at this turn in his +fortunes, it would surely be of ill omen to refuse the first appeal for +help that reached him. + +Polly was so much a part of himself that he thought of her last of all. +But then it was with moist eyes. She, who had never complained, should +of a surety not come short! And he dropped asleep that night to the +happy refrain: "Now she shall have her piano, God bless her! ... the +best that money can buy." + + + + + +Part IV + + + +Chapter I + +The new house stood in Webster Street. It was twice as large as the old +one, had a garden back and front, a verandah round three sides. When +Mahony bought it, and the piece of ground it stood on, it was an +unpretentious weather-board in a rather dilapidated condition. The +situation was good though--without being too far from his former +address--and there was stabling for a pair of horses. And by the time +he had finished with it, it was one of those characteristically +Australian houses which, added to wherever feasible, without a thought +for symmetry or design--a room built on here, a covered passage there, +a bathroom thrown out in an unexpected corner, with odd steps up and +down--have yet a spacious, straggling comfort all their own. + +How glad he was to leave the tiny, sunbaked box that till now had been +his home. It had had neither blind nor shutter; and, on his entering it +of a summer midday, it had sometimes struck hotter than outside. The +windows of his new room were fitted with green venetians; round the +verandah-posts twined respectively a banksia and a Japanese +honey-suckle, which further damped the glare; while on the patch of +buffalo-grass in front stood a spreading fig-tree, that leafed well and +threw a fine shade. He had also added a sofa to his equipment. Now, +when he came in tired or with a headache, he could stretch himself at +full length. He was lying on it at this moment. + +Polly, too, had reason to feel satisfied with the change. A handsome +little Broadwood, with a ruby-silk and carved-wood front, stood against +the wall of her drawing-room; gilt cornices surmounted the windows; and +from the centre of the ceiling hung a lustre-chandelier that was the +envy of every one who saw it: Mrs. Henry Ocock's was not a patch on it, +and yet had cost more. This time Mahony had virtually been able to give +his wife a free hand in her furnishing. And in her new spare room she +could put up no less than three guests! + +Of course, these luxuries had not all rained on them at once. Several +months passed before Polly, on the threshold of her parlour, could +exclaim, with an artlessness that touched her husband deeply: "Never in +my life did I think I should have such a beautiful room!" Still, as +regarded money, the whole year had been a steady ascent. The nest-egg +he had left with the lawyer had served its purpose of chaining that old +hen, Fortune, to the spot. Ocock had invested and re-invested on his +behalf--now it was twenty "Koh-i-noors," now thirty "Consolidated +Beehives"--and Mahony was continually being agreeably surprised by the +margins it threw off in its metamorphoses. That came of his having +placed the matter in such competent hands. The lawyer had, for +instance, got him finally out of "Porepunkahs" in the nick of time--the +reef had not proved as open to the day as was expected--and pulled him +off, in the process, another three hundred odd. Compared with Ocock's +own takings, of course, his was a modest spoil; the lawyer had made a +fortune, and was now one of the wealthiest men in Ballarat. He had +built not only new and handsome offices on the crest of the hill, but +also, prior to his marriage, a fine dwelling-house standing in +extensive grounds on the farther side of Yuille's Swamp. Altogether it +had been a year of great and sweeping changes. People had gone up, gone +down--had changed places like children at a game of General Post. More +than one of Mahony's acquaintances had burnt his fingers. On the other +hand, old Devine, Polly's one-time market-gardener, had made his +thousands. There was actually talk of his standing for Parliament, in +which case his wife bid fair to be received at Government House. And +the pair of them with hardly an "h" between them! + +From the sofa where he lay, Mahony could hear the murmur of his wife's +even voice. Polly sat the further end of the verandah talking to Jinny, +who dandled her babe in a rocking-chair that made a light tip-tap as it +went to and fro. Jinny said nothing: she was no doubt sunk in adoration +of her--or rather John's--infant; and Mahony all but dozed off, under +the full, round tones he knew so well. + +In his case the saying had once more been verified: to him that hath +shall be given. Whether it was due to the better position of the new +house; or to the fact that easier circumstances gave people more +leisure to think of their ailments; or merely that money attracted +money: whatever the cause, his practice had of late made giant strides. +He was in demand for consultations; sat on several committees; while a +couple of lodges had come his way as good as unsought. + +Against this he had one piece of ill-luck to set. At the close of the +summer, when the hot winds were in blast, he had gone down under the +worst attack of dysentery he had had since the early days. He really +thought this time all was over with him. For six weeks, in spite of the +tenderest nursing, he had lain prostrate, and as soon as he could bear +the journey had to prescribe himself a change to the seaside. The +bracing air of Queenscliff soon picked him up; he had, thank God, a +marvellous faculty of recuperation: while others were still not done +pitying him, he was himself again, and well enough to take the daily +plunge in the Sea that was one of his dearest pleasures.--To feel the +warm, stinging fluid lap him round, after all these drewthy years of +dust and heat! He could not have enough of it, and stayed so long in +the water that his wife, sitting at a decent distance from the Bathing +Enclosure, grew anxious, and agitated her little white parasol. + +"There's nothing to equal it, Mary, this side Heaven!" he declared as +he rejoined her, his towel about his neck. "I wish I could persuade you +to try a dip, my dear." + +But Mary preferred to sit quietly on the beach. "The dressing and +undressing is such a trouble," said she. As it was, one of her +elastic-sides was full of sand. + +Yes, Polly was Mary now, and had been, since the day Ned turned up +again on Ballarat, accompanied by a wife and child. Mary was in +Melbourne at the time, at John's nuptials; Mahony had opened the door +himself to Ned's knock; and there, in a spring-cart, sat the frowsy, +red-haired woman who was come to steal his wife's name from her. This +invasion was the direct result of his impulsive generosity. Had he only +kept his money in his pocket! + +He had been forced to take the trio in and give them house-room. But he +bore the storming of his hard-won privacy with a bad grace, and Mary +had much to gloss over on her return. + +She had been greatly distressed by her favourite brother's +ill-considered marriage. For, if they had not held Jinny to be John's +equal, what WAS to be said of Ned's choice? Mrs. Ned had lived among +the mining population of Castlemaine, where her father kept a +public-house; and, said Richard, her manners were accordingly: loud, +slap-dash, familiar--before she had been twenty-four hours under his +roof she was bluntly addressing him as "Mahony." There was also a +peculiar streak of touchiness in her nature ("Goes with hair of that +colour, my dear!") which rendered her extremely hard to deal with. She +had, it seemed, opposed the idea of moving to Ballarat--that was all in +her favour, said Mary--and came primed to detect a snub or a slight at +every turn. This morbid suspiciousness it was that led Mary to yield +her rights in the matter of the name: the confusion between them was +never-ending; and, at the first hint that the change would come +gracefully from her, Mrs. Ned had flown into a passion. + +"It's all the same to me, Richard, what I'm called," Mary soothed him. +"And don't you think Polly was beginning to sound RATHER childish, now +I'm nearly twenty-four?" + +But: "Oh, what COULD Ned have seen in her?" she sighed to herself +dismayed. For Mrs. Ned was at least ten years older than her husband; +and whatever affection might originally have existed between them was +now a thing of the past She tyrannised mercilessly over him, nagging at +him till Ned, who was nothing if not good-natured, turned sullen and +left off tossing his child in the air. + +"We must just make the best of it, Richard," said Mary. "After all, +she's really fond of the baby. And when the second comes... you'll +attend her yourself, won't you, dear? I think somehow her temper may +improve when that's over." + +For this was another thing: Mrs. Ned had arrived there in a condition +that raised distressing doubts in Mary as to the dates of Ned's +marriage and the birth of his first child. She did not breathe them to +Richard; for it seemed to her only to make matters of this kind worse, +openly to speak of them. She devoted herself to getting the little +family under a roof of its own. Through Richard's influence Ned +obtained a clerkship in a carrying-agency, which would just keep his +head above water; and she found a tiny, three-roomed house that was +near enough to let her be daily with her sister-in-law when the +latter's time came. Meanwhile, she cut out and helped to sew a complete +little outfit ("What she had before was no better than rags!"); and +Mrs. Ned soon learned to know on whom she could lean and to whom she +might turn, not only for practical aid, but also for a never failing +sympathy in what she called her "troubles." + +"I vow your Mary's the kindest-hearted little soul it's ever been me +luck to run across," she averred one day to Mahony, who was visiting +her professionally. "So common-sense, too--no nonsense about HER! I +shouldn't have thought a gaby like Ned could have sported such trump of +a sister." + +"Another pensioner for your CARITAS, dear," said Mahony, in passing on +the verdict. What he did not grieve his wife by repeating were certain +bad reports of Ned lately brought him by Jerry. According to Jerry--and +the boy's word was to be relied on--Ned had kept loose company in +Castlemaine, and had acquired the habit of taking more than was good +for him. Did he not speedily amend his ways, there would be small +chance of him remaining in his present post. + +Here, Mahony was effectually roused by a stir on the verandah. Jinny +had entered the house to lay down her sleeping babe, and a third voice, +Purdy's, became audible. The wife had evidently brought out a bottle of +her famous home-brewed gingerbeer: he heard the cork pop, the drip of +the overflow on the boards, the clink of the empty glass; and Purdy's +warm words of appreciation. + +Then there was silence. Rising from the sofa, Mahony inserted himself +between blind and window, and peeped out. + +His first thought was: what a picture! Mary wore a pale pink cotton +gown which, over the light swellings of her crinoline, bulged and +billowed round her, and generously swept the ground. Collar and cuffs +of spotless lawn outlined neck and wrists. She bent low over her +stitching, and the straight white parting of her hair intensified the +ebony of the glossy bands. Her broad pure forehead had neither line nor +stain. On the trellis behind her a vine hung laden with massy bunches +of muscatelles. + +Purdy sat on the edge of the verandah, with his back to Mahony. Between +thumb and forefinger he idly swung a pair of scissors. + +Urged by some occult sympathy, Mary at once glanced up and discovered +her husband. Her face was lightly flushed from stooping--and the least +touch of colour was enough to give its delicate ivory an appearance of +vivid health. She had grown fuller of late--quite fat, said Richard, +when he wished to tease her: a luxuriant young womanliness lay over and +about her. Now, above the pale wild-rose of her cheeks her black eyes +danced with a mischievous glee; for she believed her husband intended +swinging his leg noiselessly over the sill and creeping up to startle +Purdy--and this appealed to her sense of humour. But, as he remained +standing at the window, she just smiled slyly, satisfied to be in +communion with him over their unsuspecting friend's head. + +Here, however, Purdy brought his eyes back from the garden, and she +abruptly dropped hers to her needlework. + +The scissors were shut with a snap, and thrown, rather than laid, to +the other implements in the workbox. "One 'ud think you were paid to +finish that wretched sewing in a fixed time, Polly," said Purdy +cantankerously. "Haven't you got a word to say?" + +"It's for the Dorcas Society. They're having a sale of work." + +"Oh, damn Dorcases! You're always slaving for somebody. You'll ruin +your eyes. I wonder Dick allows it. I shouldn't--I know that." + +The peal of laughter that greeted these words came equally from husband +and wife. Then: "What the dickens does it matter to you, sir, how much +sewing my wife chooses to do?" cried Mahony, and, still laughing, +stepped out of the window. + +"Hello!--you there?" said Purdy and rose to his feet. "What a beastly +fright to give one!" He looked red and sulky. + +"I scored that time, my boy!" and linking his arm in Mary's, Mahony +confronted his friend. "Afraid I'm neglecting my duties, are you? +Letting this young woman spoil her eyes?--Turn 'em on him, my love, in +all their splendour, that he may judge for himself." + +"Nonsense, Richard," said Mary softly, but with an affectionate squeeze +of his arm. + +"Well, ta-ta, I'm off!" said Purdy. And as Mahony still continued to +quiz him, he added in a downright surly tone: "Just the same old Dick +as ever! Blinder than any bat to all that doesn't concern yourself! +I'll eat my hat if it's ever entered your noddle that Polly's quite the +prettiest woman on Ballarat." + +"Don't listen to him, Richard, please!" and: "Don't let your head be +turned by such fulsome flattery, my dear!" were wife and husband's +simultaneous exclamations. + +"I shouldn't think so," said Mary sturdily, and would have added more, +but just at this minute Jinny came out of the house, with the peculiar +noiseless tread she had acquired in moving round an infant's crib; and +Purdy vanished. + +Jinny gazed at her sister-in-law with such meaning--that Mary could not +but respond. + +"Did you get her safely laid down, dear?" + +"Perfectly, Mary! Without even the quiver of an eyelash. You recollect, +I told you yesterday when her little head touched the pillow, she +opened her eyes and looked at me. To-day there was nothing of that +sort. It was quite perfect"; and Jinny's voice thrilled at the +remembrance: it was as if, in continuing to sleep during the transit, +her--or rather John's--tiny daughter had proved herself a marvellous +sagacity. + +Mahony gave an impatient shrug in Jinny's direction. But he, too, had +to stand fire: she had been waiting all day for a word with him. The +babe, who was teething, was plagued by various disorders; and Jinny +knew each fresh pin's-head of a spot that joined the rash. + +Mahony made light of her fears; then turning to his wife asked her to +hurry on the six-o'clock dinner: he had to see a patient between that +meal and tea. Mary went to make arrangements--Richard always forgot to +mention such things till the last moment--and also to please Jinny by +paying a visit to the baby. + +"The angels can't look very different when they sleep, I think," +murmured its mother, hanging over the couch. + +When Mary returned, she found her husband picking caterpillars off the +vine: Long Jim, odd man now about house and garden, was not industrious +enough to keep the pests under. In this brief spell of leisure--such +moments grew ever rarer in Richard's life--husband and wife locked +their arms and paced slowly up and down the verandah. It was late +afternoon on a breathless, pale-skied February day; and the boards of +the flooring gritted with sandy dust beneath their feet. + +"He WAS grumpy this afternoon, wasn't he?" said Mary, without preamble. +"But I've noticed once or twice lately that he can't take a joke any +more. He's grown queer altogether. Do you know he's the only person who +still persists in calling me by my old name? He was quite rude about it +when I asked him why. Perhaps he's liverish, from the heat. It might be +a good thing, dear, if you went round and overhauled him. Somehow, it +seems unnatural for Purdy to be bad-tempered." + +"It's true he may be a bit out of sorts. But I fear the evil's +deeper-seated. It's my opinion the boy is tiring of regular work. Now +that he hasn't even the excitement of the gold-escort to look forward +to.... And he's been a rolling stone from the beginning, you know." + +"If only he would marry and settle down! I do wish I could find a wife +for him. The right woman could make anything of Purdy"; and yet once +more Mary fruitlessly scanned, in thought, the lists of her +acquaintance. + +"What if it's a case of sour grapes, love? Since the prettiest woman on +Ballarat is no longer free...." + +"Oh, Richard, hush! Such foolish talk!" + +"But is it? ... let me look at her. Well, if not the prettiest, at +least a very pretty person indeed. It certainly becomes you to be +stouter, wife." + +But Mary had not an atom of vanity in her. "Speaking of prettiness +reminds me of something that happened at the Races last week--I forgot +to tell you, at the time. There were two gentlemen there from +Melbourne; and as Agnes Ocock went past, one of them said out loud: +'Gad! That's a lovely woman.' Agnes heard it herself, and was most +distressed. And the whole day, wherever she went, they kept their +field-glasses on her. Mr. Henry was furious." + +"If you'll allow me to say so, my dear, Mrs. Henry cannot hold a candle +to some one I know--to my mind, at least." + +"If I suit you, Richard, that's all I care about." + +"Well, to come back to what we were saying. My advice is, give Master +Purdy a taste of the cold shoulder the next time he comes hanging about +the house. Let him see his ill-temper didn't pass unnoticed. There's no +excuse for it. God bless me! doesn't he sleep the whole night through +in his bed?"--and Mahony's tone took on an edge. The broken nights that +were nowadays the rule with himself were the main drawbacks to his +prosperity. He had never been a really good sleeper; and, in +consequence, was one of those people who feel an intense need for +sleep, and suffer under its curtailment. As things stood at present his +rest was wholly at the mercy of the night-bell--a remorseless +instrument, given chiefly to pealing just as he had managed to drop +off. Its gentlest tinkle was enough to rouse him--long before it had +succeeded in penetrating the ears of the groom, who was supposed to +open. And when it remained silent for a night, some trifling noise in +the road would simulate its jangle in his dreams. "It's a wonder I have +any nerves left," he grumbled, as the hot, red dawns crept in at the +sides of the bedroom-window. For the shortening of his sleep at one end +did not mean that he could make it up at the other. All that summer he +had fallen into the habit of waking at five o'clock, and not being able +to doze off again. The narrowest bar of light on the ceiling, the +earliest twitter of the sparrows was enough to strike him into full +consciousness; and Mary was hard put to it to darken the room and +ensure silence; and would be till the day came when he could knock off +work and take a thorough holiday. This he promised himself to do, +before he was very much older. + + + + +Chapter II + +Mary sat with pencil and paper and wrinkled her brows. She was +composing a list, and every now and then, after an inward calculation, +she lowered the pencil to note such items as: three tipsy-cakes, four +trifles, eight jam-sandwiches. John Turnham had run up from Melbourne +to fetch home wife and child; and his relatives were giving a musical +card-party in his honour. By the window Jinny sat on a low ottoman +suckling her babe, and paying but scant heed to her sister-in-law's +deliberations: to her it seemed a much more important matter that the +milk should flow smoothly down the precious little throat, than that +Mary's supper should be a complete success. With her free hand she +imprisoned the two little feet, working one against the other in slow +enjoyment; or followed the warm little limbs up inside the swaddling, +after the fashion of nursing mothers. + +The two women were in the spare bedroom, which was dusk and cool and +dimity-white; and they exchanged remarks in a whisper; for the lids had +come down more than once on the big black eyes, and now only lifted +automatically from time to time, to send a last look of utter satiation +at the mother-face. Mary always said: "She'll drop off sooner indoors, +dear." But this was not the whole truth. Richard had hinted that he +considered the seclusion of the house better suited to the business of +nursing than the comparative publicity of the verandah; for Jinny was +too absorbed in her task to take thought for the proprieties. Here now +she sat--she had grown very big and full since her marriage in the +generous, wide-lapped pose of some old Madonna. + +Mary, thrown entirely on her own judgment, was just saying with +decision: "Well, better to err on the right side and have too much than +too little," and altering a four into a five, when steps came down the +passage and John entered the room. Jinny made him a sign, and John, now +Commissioner of Trade and Customs, advanced as lightly as could be +expected of a heavy, well-grown man. + +"Does she sleep?" he asked. + +His eyes had flown to the child; only in the second place did they rest +on his wife. At the sight of her free and easy bearing his face +changed, and he said stiffly: "I think, Jane, a little less exposure of +your person, my dear...." + +Flushing to her hair-roots, Jinny began as hastily as she dared to +re-arrange her dress. + +Mary broke a lance on her behalf. "We were quite alone, John," she +reminded her brother. "Not expecting a visit from you." And added: +"Richard says it is high time Baby was weaned. Jinny is feeling the +strain." + +"As long as this rash continues I shall not permit it," answered John, +riding rough-shod over even Richard's opinion. ("I shouldn't agree to +it either, John dear," murmured Jinny.) "And now, Mary, a word with you +about the elder children. I understand that you are prepared to take +Emma back--is that so?" + +Yes, Mary was pleased to say Richard had consented to Trotty's return; +but he would not hear of her undertaking Johnny. At eleven years of age +the proper place for a boy, he said, was a Grammar School. With Trotty, +of course, it was different. "I always found her easy to manage, and +should be more than glad to have her"; and Mary meant what she said. +Her heart ached for John's motherless children. Jinny's interest in +them had lasted only so long as she had none of her own; and Mary, who +being childless had kept a large heart for all little ones, marvelled +at the firm determination to get rid of her stepchildren which her +sister-in-law, otherwise so pliable, displayed. + +Brother and sister talked things over, intuitively meeting half-way, +understanding each other with a word, as only blood relations can. +Jinny, the chief person concerned, sat meekly by, or chimed in merely +to echo her husband's views. + +"By the way, I ran into Richard on Specimen Hill," said John as he +turned to leave the room. "And he asked me to let you know that he +would not be home to lunch." + +"There... if that isn't always the way!" exclaimed Mary. "As sure as I +cook something he specially likes, he doesn't come in. Tilly sent me +over the loveliest little sucking-pig this morning. Richard would have +enjoyed it." + +"You should be proud, my dear Mary, that his services are in such +demand." + +"I am, John--no one could be prouder. But all the same I wish he could +manage to be a little more regular with his meals. It makes cooking so +difficult. To-morrow, because I shan't have a minute to spare, he'll be +home punctually, demanding something nice. But I warn you, to-morrow +you'll all have to picnic!" + +However, when the day came, she was better than her word, and looked to +it that neither guests nor husband went short. Since a couple of tables +on trestles took up the dining-room, John and Mahony lunched together +in the surgery; while Jinny's meal was spread on a tray and sent to her +in the bedroom. Mary herself had time only to snatch a bite standing. +From early morning on, tied up in a voluminous apron, she was cooking +in the kitchen, very hot and floury and preoccupied, drawing grating +shelves out of the oven, greasing tins and patty-pans, dredging flour. +The click-clack of egg-beating resounded continuously; and mountains of +sponge-cakes of all shapes and sizes rose under her hands. This would +be the largest, most ambitious party she had ever given--the guests +expected numbered between twenty and thirty, and had, besides, carte +blanche to bring with them anyone who happened to be staying with +them--and it would be a disgrace under which Mary, reared in Mrs. +Beamish's school, could never again have held up her head, had a single +article on her supper-table run short. + +In all this she had only such help as her one maidservant could give +her--John had expressly forbidden Jinny the kitchen. True, during the +morning Miss Amelia Ocock, a gentle little elderly body with a harmless +smile and a prominent jaw, who was now an inmate of her father's house, +together with Zara, returned from England and a visitor at the +Ocock's--these two walked over to offer their aid in setting the +tables. But Miss Amelia, fluttery and undecided as a bird, was far too +timid to do herself justice; and Zara spent so long arranging the +flowers in the central epergnes that before she had finished with one +of them it was lunch time. + +"I could have done it myself while she was cutting the stalks," Mary +told her husband. "But Zara hasn't really been any good at flowers +since her 'mixed bouquet' took first prize at the Flower Show. Of +course, though, it looks lovely now it's done." + +Purdy dropped in during the afternoon and was more useful; he sliced +the crusts off loaf-high mounds of sandwiches, and tested the strength +and flavour of the claret-cup. Mary could not make up her mind, when it +came to the point, to follow Richard's advice and treat him coldly. She +did, however, tell him that his help would be worth a great deal more +to her if he talked less and did not always look for an answer to what +he said. But Purdy was not to be quashed. He had taken it into his head +that she was badly treated, in being left "to slave" alone, within the +oven's radius; and he was very hard on Jinny, whom he had espied +comfortably dandling her child on the front verandah. "I'd like to +wring the bloomin' kid's neck!" + +"Purdy, for shame!" cried Mary outraged. "It's easy to see you're still +a bachelor. Just wait, sir, till you have children of your own!" + +Under her guidance he bore stacks of plates across the yard to the +dining-room--where the blinds were lowered to keep the room cool--and +strewed these, and corresponding knives and forks, up and down the +tables. He also carried over the heavy soup-tureen in which was the +claret-cup. But he had a man's slippery fingers, and, between these and +his limp, Mary trembled for the fate of her crockery. He made her +laugh, too, and distracted her attention; and she was glad when it was +time for him to return to barracks. + +"Now come early to-night," she admonished him. "And mind you bring your +music. Miss Amelia's been practising up that duet all the week. She'll +be most disappointed if you don't ask her to sing with you." + +On the threshold of the kitchen Purdy set his fingers to his nose in +the probable direction of Miss Amelia; then performed some skittish +female twists and turns about the yard. "So hoarse, love ... a bad cold +... not in voice!" Mary laughed afresh, and ordered him off. + +But when he had gone she looked grave, and out of an oddly disquieting +feeling said to herself: "I do hope he'll be on his best behaviour +to-night, and not tread on Richard's toes." + +As it was, she had to inform her husband of something that she knew +would displease him. John had come back in the course of the afternoon +and announced, without ceremony, that he had extended an invitation to +the Devines for the evening. + +"It's quite true what's being said, dear," Mary strove to soothe +Richard, as she helped him make a hasty toilet in the bathroom. "Mr. +Devine is going to stand for Parliament; and he has promised his +support, if he gets in, to some measure John has at heart. John wants +to have a long talk with him to-night." + +But Richard was exceedingly put out. "Well, I hope, my dear, that as +it's your brother who has taken such a liberty, YOU'LL explain the +situation to your guests. I certainly shall not. But I do know there +was no need to exclude Ned and Polly from such an omnium-gatherum as +this party of yours will be." + +Even while he spoke there came a rat-a-tat at the front door, and Mary +had to hurry off. And now knock succeeded knock with the briefest of +intervals, the noise carrying far in the quiet street. Mysteriously +bunched-up figures, their heads veiled in the fleeciest of clouds, were +piloted along the passage; and: "I HOPE we are not the first!" was +murmured by each new-comer in turn. The gentlemen went to change their +boots on the back verandah; the ladies to lay off their wraps in Mary's +bedroom. And soon this room was filled to overflowing with the large +soft abundance of crinoline; hoops swaying from this side to that, as +the guests gave place to one another before the looking-glass, where +bands of hair were smoothed and the catches of bracelets snapped. +Music-cases lay strewn over the counterpane; the husbands who lined up +in the passage, to wait for their wives, also bearing rolls of music. +Mary, in black silk with a large cameo brooch at her throat, and only a +delicate pink on her cheeks to tell of all her labours, moved helpfully +to and fro, offering a shoe-horn, a hand-mirror, pins and hairpins. She +was caught, as she passed Mrs. Henry Ocock, a modishly late arrival, by +that lady's plump white hand, and a whispered request to be allowed to +retain her mantle. "Henry was really against my coming, dearest. So +anxious ... so absurdly anxious!" + +"And pray where's the Honourable Mrs. T. to-night?" inquired "old Mrs. +Ocock," rustling up to them: Tilly was the biggest and most handsomely +dressed woman in the room. "On her knees worshipping, I bet you, up to +the last minute! Or else not allowed to show her nose till the +Honourable John's got his studs in.--Now then, girls, how much longer +are you going to stand preening and prinking?" + +The "girls" were Zara, at this present a trifle PASSEE, and Miss +Amelia, who was still further from her prime; and gathering the two +into her train, as a hen does its chickens, Tilly swept them off to +face the ordeal of the gentlemen and the drawing-room. + +Mary and Agnes brought up the rear. Mr. Henry was on the watch, and +directly his wife appeared wheeled forward the best armchair and placed +her in it, with a footstool under her feet. Mary planted Jinny next her +and left them to their talk of nurseries: for Richard's sake she wished +to screen Agnes from the vulgarities of Mrs. Devine. Herself she saw +with dismay, on entering, that Richard had already been pounced on by +the husband: there he stood, listening to his ex-greengrocer's +words--they were interlarded with many an awkward and familiar +gesture--on his face an expression his wife knew well, while one small, +impatient hand tugged at his whiskers. + +But "old Mrs. Ocock" came to his rescue, bearing down upon him with an +outstretched hand, and a howdee-do that could be heard all over the +room: Tilly had long forgotten that she had ever borne him a grudge; +she it was who could now afford to patronise. "I hope I see you well, +doctor?--Oh, not a bit of it.... I left him at 'ome. Mr. O. has +something wrong, if you please, with his leg or his big toe--gout or +rheumatiz or something of that sort--and 'e's been so crabby with it +for the last day or so that to-night I said to 'im: 'No, my dear, +you'll just take a glass of hot toddy, and go early and comfortable to +your bed.' Musical parties aren't in his line anyhow." + +A lively clatter of tongues filled the room, the space of which was +taxed to its utmost: there were present, besides the friends and +intimates of the house, several of Mahony's colleagues, a couple of +Bank Managers, the Police Magistrate, the Postmaster, the Town Clerk, +all with their ladies. Before long, however, ominous pauses began to +break up the conversation, and Mary was accomplished hostess enough to +know what these meant. At a sign from her, Jerry lighted the candles on +the piano, and thereupon a fugue-like chorus went up: "Mrs. Mahony, +won't you play something?--Oh, do!--Yes, please, do.... I should enjoy +it so much." + +Mary did not wait to be pressed; it was her business to set the ball +rolling; and she stood up and went to the piano as unconcernedly as she +would have gone to sweep a room or make a bed. + +Placing a piece of music on the rack, she turned down the corners of +the leaves. But here Archdeacon Long's handsome, weatherbeaten face +looked over her shoulder. "I hope you're going to give us the cannons, +Mrs. Mahony?" he said genially. And so Mary obliged him by laying aside +the MORCEAU she had chosen, and setting up instead a "battle-piece," +that was a general favourite. + +"Aha! that's the ticket," said Henry Ocock, and rubbed his hands as +Mary struck up, pianissimo, the march that told of the enemy's approach. + +And: "Boompity-boomp-boomp-boomp!" Archdeacon Long could not refrain +from underlining each fresh salvo of artillery; while: "That's a breach +in their walls for 'em!" was Chinnery of the London Chartered's +contribution to the stock of fun. + +Mahony stood on the hearthrug and surveyed the assembly. His eyes fled +Mrs. Devine, most unfortunately perched on an ottoman in the middle of +the room, where she sat, purple, shiny and beaming, two hot, fat, red +hands clasped over her stomach ("Like a heathen idol! Confound the +woman! I shall have to go and do the polite to her"), and sought Mary +at the piano, hanging with pleasure on the slim form in the rich silk +dress. This caught numberless lights from the candles, as did also the +wings of her glossy hair. He watched, with a kind of amused tenderness, +how at each forte passage head and shoulders took their share of +lending force to the tones. He never greatly enjoyed Mary's playing. +She did well enough at it, God bless her!--it would not have been Mary +if she hadn't--but he came of a musical family; his mother had sung +Handel faultlessly in her day, besides having a mastery of several +instruments: and he was apt to be critical. Mary's firm, capable hands +looked out of place on a piano; seemed to stand in a sheerly business +relation to the keys. Nor was it otherwise with her singing: she had a +fair contralto, but her ear was at fault; and he sometimes found +himself swallowing nervously when she attacked high notes. + +"Oh, doctor! your wife DO play the pianner lovely," said Mrs. Devine, +and her fat front rose and fell in an ecstatic sigh. + +"Richard dear, will you come?" Mary laid her hands on his shoulder: +their guests were clamouring for a DUO. Her touch was a caress: here he +was, making himself as pleasant as he knew how, to this old woman. When +it came to doing a kindness, you could rely on Richard; he was all bark +and no bite. + +Husband and wife blended their voices--Mary had been at considerable +pains to get up her part--and then Richard went on to a solo. He had a +clear, true tenor that was very agreeable to hear; and Mary felt quite +proud of his attainments. Later in the evening he might be persuaded to +give them a reading from Boz, or a recitation. At that kind of thing, +he had not his equal. + +But first there was a cry for his flute; and in vain did Mahony protest +that weeks had elapsed since he last screwed the instrument together. +He got no quarter, even from Mary--but then Mary was one of those +inconvenient people to whom it mattered not a jot what a fool you made +of yourself, as long as you did what was asked of you. And so, from +memory and unaccompanied, he played them the old familiar air of THE +MINSTREL BOY. The theme, in his rendering, was overlaid by florid +variations and cumbered with senseless repetitions; but, none the less, +the wild, wistful melody went home, touching even those who were not +musical to thoughtfulness and retrospect. The most obstinate +chatterers, whom neither sham battles nor Balfe and Blockley had +silenced, held their tongues; and Mrs. Devine openly wiped her eyes. + + O, THE MINSTREL BOY TO THE WARS HAS GONE! + IN THE RANKS OF DEATH YOU'LL FIND HIM. + +While it was proceeding, Mary found herself seated next John. John +tapped his foot in time to the tune; and under cover of the applause at +its close remarked abruptly: "You should fatten Richard up a bit, Mary. +He could stand it." + +From where they sat they had Richard in profile, and Mary studied her +husband critically, her head a little on one side. "Yes, he IS rather +thin. But I don't think he was ever meant to be fat." + +"Ah well! we are none of us as young as we used to be," was John's +tribute to the power of music. And throwing out his stomach, he leaned +back in his chair and plugged the armholes of his vest with his thumbs. + +And now, after due pressing on the part of host and hostess, the other +members of the company advanced upon the piano, either singly or in +couples, to bear a hand in the burden of entertainment. Their seeming +reluctance had no basis in fact; for it was an unwritten law that every +one who could must add his mite; and only those who literally had "not +a note of music in them" were exempt. Tilly took a mischievous pleasure +in announcing bluntly: "So sorry, my dear, not to be able to do you a +tool-de-rool! But when the Honourable Mrs. T. and I were nippers we'd +no time to loll round pianos, nor any pianos to loll round!"--this, +just to see her brother-in-law's dark scowl; for no love--not even a +liking--was lost between her and John. But with this handful of +exceptions all nobly toed the line. Ladies with the tiniest reeds of +voices, which shook like reeds, warbled of Last Roses and Prairie +Flowers; others, with more force but due decorum, cried to Willie that +they had Missed Him, or coyly confessed to the presence of Silver +Threads Among the Gold; and Mrs. Chinnery, an old-young woman with a +long, lean neck, which she twisted this way and that in the exertion of +producing her notes, declared her love for an Old Armchair. The +gentlemen, in baritones and profundos, told the amorous adventures of +Ben Bolt; or desired to know what Home would be Without a Mother. Purdy +spiced the hour with a comic song, and in the character of an outraged +wife tickled the risibility of the ladies. + + WELL, WELL, SIR, SO YOU'VE COME AT LAST! + I THOUGHT YOU'D COME NO MORE. + I'VE WAITED, WITH MY BONNET ON, + FROM ONE TILL HALF-PAST FOUR! + +Zara and Mrs. Long both produced HOME THEY BROUGHT HER WARRIOR DEAD! +from their portfolios; so Zara good-naturedly gave way and struck up +ROBERT, TOI QUE J'AIME! which she had added to her repertory while in +England. No one could understand a word of what she sang; but the mere +fitting of the foreign syllables to the appropriate notes was +considered a feat in itself, and corroborative of the high gifts Zara +possessed. + +Strenuous efforts were needed to get Miss Amelia to her feet. She was +dying, as Mary knew, to perform her duet with Purdy; but when the +moment came she put forward so many reasons for not complying that most +people retired in despair. It took Mary to persevere. And finally the +little woman was persuaded to the piano, where, red with gratification, +she sat down, spread her skirts and unclasped her bracelets. + +"Poor little Amelia!" said Mary to herself, as she listened to a +romantic ballad in which Purdy, in the character of a high-minded +nobleman, sought the hand of a virtuous gipsy-maid. "And he doesn't +give her a second thought. If one could just tell her not to be so +silly!" + +Not only had Purdy never once looked near Amelia--for the most part he +had sat rather mum-chance, half-way in and out of a French window, even +Zara's attempts to enliven him falling flat--but, during an extra loud +performance, Tilly had confided to Mary the family's plans for their +spinster relative. And: "The poor little woman!" thought Mary again as +she listened. For, after having been tied for years to the sick bed of +a querulous mother; after braving the long sea-voyage, which for such a +timid soul was full of ambushes and terrors, Miss Amelia had reached +her journey's end only to find both father and brother comfortably +wived, and with no use for her. Neither of them wanted her. She had +been given house-room first by her father, then by the Henrys, and once +more had had to go back to the paternal roof. + +"It was nothing for Mossieu Henry in the long run," was his +stepmother's comment. But she laughed good-humouredly as she said it; +for, his first wrath at her intrusion over, Henry had more or less +become her friend; and now maintained that it was not a bad thing for +his old father to have a sensible, managing woman behind him. Tilly had +developed in many ways since her marriage; and Henry and she mutually +respected each other's practical qualities. + +The upshot of the affair was, she now told Mary, that Miss Amelia's +male relatives had subscribed a dowry for her. "It was me that insisted +Henry should pay his share--him getting all the money 'e did with +Agnes." And Amelia was to be married off to--"Well, if you turn your +head, my dear, you'll see who. Back there, helping to hold up the +doorpost." + +Under cover of Zara's roulades Mary cautiously looked round. It was +Henry's partner--young Grindle, now on the threshold of the thirties. +His side-whiskers a shade less flamboyant than of old, a heavy +watch-chain draped across his front, Grindle stood and lounged with his +hands in his pockets. + +Mary made round eyes. "Oh, but Tilly!... isn't it very risky? He's so +much younger than she is. Suppose she shouldn't be happy?" + +"That'll be all right, Mary, trust me. Only give 'er a handle to 'er +name, and Amelia 'ud be happy with any one. She hasn't THAT much +backbone in 'er. Besides, my dear, you think, she's over forty! Let her +take 'er chance and be thankful. It isn't every old maid 'ud get such +an offer." + +"And is ... is HE agreeable?" asked Mary, still unconvinced. + +Tilly half closed her right eye and protruded the tip of her tongue. +"You could stake your last fiver on it, he is!" + +But now that portion of the entertainment devoted to art was at an end, +and the serious business of the evening began. Card-tables had been set +out--for loo, as for less hazardous games. In principle, Mahony +objected to the high play that was the order of the day; but if you +invited people to your house you could not ask them to screw their +points down from crowns to halfpence. They would have thanked you +kindly and have stayed at home. Here, at the loo-table places were +eagerly snapped up, Henry Ocock and his stepmother being among the +first to secure seats: both were keen, hard players, who invariably +re-lined their well-filled pockets. + +It would not have been the thing for either Mahony or his wife to take +a hand; several of the guests held aloof. John had buttonholed old +Devine; Jinny and Agnes were still lost in domesticities. Dear little +Agnes had grown so retiring of late, thought Mary; she quite avoided +the society of gentlemen, in which she had formerly taken such +pleasure. Richard and Archdeacon Long sat on the verandah, and in +moving to and fro, Mary caught a fragment of their talk: they were at +the debatable question of table-turning, and her mental comment was a +motherly and amused: "That Richard, who is so clever, can interest +himself in such nonsense!" Further on, Zara was giving Grindle an +account of her voyage "home," and ticking off the reasons that had led +to her return. She sat across a hammock, and daintily exposed a very +neat ankle. "It was much too sleepy and dull for ME! No, I've QUITE +decided to spend the rest of my days in the colony." + +Mrs. Devine was still perched on her ottoman. She beamed at her +hostess. "No, I dunno one card from another, dearie, and don' want to. +Oh, my dear, what a LOVELY party it 'as been, and 'ow well you've +carried it h'off!" + +Mary nodded and smiled; but with an air of abstraction. The climax of +her evening was fast approaching. Excusing herself, she slipped away +and went to cast a last eye over her supper-tables, up and down which +benches were ranged, borrowed from the Sunday School. To her surprise +she found herself followed by Mrs. Devine. + +"DO let me 'elp you, my dear, do, now! I feel that stiff and silly +sittin' stuck up there with me 'ands before me. And jes' send that +young feller about 'is business." + +So Purdy and his offers of assistance were returned with thanks to the +card-room, and Mrs. Devine pinned up her black silk front. But not till +she had freely vented her astonishment at the profusion of Mary's good +things. "'Ow DO you git 'em to rise so?--No, I never did! Fit for +Buckin'am Palace and Queen Victoria! And all by your little self, +too.--My dear, I must give you a good 'UG!" + +Hence, when at twelve o'clock the company began to stream in, they +found Mrs. Devine installed behind the barricade of cups, saucers and +glasses; and she it was who dispensed tea and coffee and ladled out the +claret-cup; thus leaving Mary free to keep an argus eye on her +visitors' plates. At his entry Richard had raised expostulating +eyebrows; but his tongue of course was tied. And Mary made a lifelong +friend. + +And now for the best part of an hour Mary's sandwiches, sausage-rolls +and meat-pies; her jam-rolls, pastries and lemon-sponges; her jellies, +custards and creams; her blanc and jaunemanges and whipped syllabubs; +her trifles, tipsy-cakes and charlotte-russes formed the theme of talk +and objects of attention. And though the ladies picked with becoming +daintiness, the gentlemen made up for their partners' deficiencies; and +there was none present who did not, in the shape of a hearty and +well-turned compliment, add yet another laurel to Mary's crown. + + + + +Chapter III + +It had struck two before the party began to break up. The first move +made, however, the guests left in batches, escorting one another to +their respective house-doors. The Henry Ococks' buggy had been in +waiting for some time, and Mrs. Henry's pretty head was drooping with +fatigue before Henry, who was in the vein, could tear himself from the +card-table. Mahony went to the front gate with them; then strolled with +the Longs to the corner of the road. + +He was in no hurry to retrace his steps. The air was balmy, after that +of the overcrowded rooms, and it was a fabulously beautiful night. The +earth lay steeped in moonshine, as in the light of a silver sun. Trees +and shrubs were patterned to their last leaf on the ground before them. +What odd mental twist made mortals choose rather to huddle indoors, by +puny candle-light, than to be abroad laving themselves in a splendour +such as this? + +Leaning his arms on the top rail of a fence, he looked across the slope +at the Flat, now hushed and still as the encampment of a sleeping army. +Beyond, the bush shimmered palely grey--in his younger years he had +been used, on a night like this when the moon sailed full and free, to +take his gun and go opossuming. Those two old woody gods, Warrenheip +and Buninyong, stood out more imposingly than by day; but the ranges +seemed to have retreated. The light lay upon them like a visible +burden, flattening their contours, filling up clefts and fissures with +a milky haze. + +"Good evening, doctor!" + +Spoken in his very ear, the words made him jump. He had been lost in +contemplation; and the address had a ghostly suddenness. But it was no +ghost that stood beside him--nor indeed was it a night for those +presences to be abroad whose element is the dark. + +Ill-pleased at the intrusion, he returned but a stiff nod: then, since +he could not in decency greet and leave-take in a breath, feigned to go +on for a minute with his study of the landscape. After which he said: +"Well, I must be moving. Good night to you." + +"So you're off your sleep, too, are you?" As often happens, the impulse +to speak was a joint one. The words collided. + +Instinctively Mahony shrank into himself; this familiar bracketing of +his person with another's was distasteful to him. Besides, the man who +had sprung up at his elbow bore a reputation that was none of the best. +The owner of a small chemist's shop on the Flat, he contrived to give +offence in sundry ways: he was irreligious--an infidel, his neighbours +had it--and of a Sabbath would scour his premises or hoe potatoes +rather than attend church or chapel. Though not a confirmed drunkard, +he had been seen to stagger in the street, and be unable to answer when +spoken to. Also, the woman with whom he lived was not generally +believed to be his lawful wife. Hence the public fought shy of his +nostrums; and it was a standing riddle how he managed to avoid putting +up his shutters. More nefarious practices no doubt, said the relentless +VOX POPULI.--Seen near at hand, he was a tall, haggard-looking fellow +of some forty years of age, the muscles on his neck standing out like +those of a skinny old horse. + +Here, his gratuitous assumption of a common bond drew a cold: "Pray, +what reason have you to think that?" from Mahony. And without waiting +for a reply he again said good night and turned to go. + +The man accepted the rebuff with a meekness that was painful to see. +"Thought, comin' on you like this, you were a case like my own. No +offence, I'm sure," he said humbly. It was evident he was well used to +getting the cold shoulder. Mahony stayed his steps. "What's the matter +with you?" he asked. "Aren't you well? There's a remedy to be found for +most ills under the sun." + +"Not for mine! The doctor isn't born or the drug discovered that could +cure me." + +The tone of bragging bitterness grated anew. Himself given to the vice +of overstatement, Mahony had small mercy on it in others. "Tut, tut!" +he deprecated. + +There was a brief silence before the speaker went on more quietly: +"You're a young man, doctor, I'm an old one." And he looked old as he +spoke; Mahony saw that he had erred in putting him down as merely +elderly. He was old and grey and down-at-heel--fifty, if a day--and his +clothes hung loose on his bony frame. "You'll excuse me if I say I know +better'n you. When a man's done, he's done. And that's me. Yes,"--he +grew inflated again in reciting his woes--"I'm one o' your hopeless +cases, just as surely as if I was being eaten up by a cancer or a +consumption. To mend me, you doctors 'ud need to start me afresh--from +the mother-egg." + +"You exaggerate, I'm sure." + +"It's that--knowin' one's played out, with by rights still a good third +of one's life to run--that's what puts the sleep away. In the daylight +it's none so hard to keep the black thoughts under; themselves they're +not so daresome; and there's one's pipe, and the haver o' the young +fry. But night's the time! Then they come tramplin' along, a whole army +of 'em, carryin' banners with letters a dozen feet high, so's you +shan't miss rememberin' what you'd give your soul to forget. And so +it'll go on, et cetera and ad lib., till it pleases the old Joker who +sits grinnin' up aloft to put His heel down--as you or me would squash +a bull-ant or a scorpion." + +"You speak bitterly, Mr. Tangye. Does a night like this not bring you +calmer, clearer thoughts?" and Mahony waved his arm in a large, loose +gesture at the sky. + +His words passed unheeded. The man he addressed spun round and faced +him, with a rusty laugh. "Hark at that!" he cried. "Just hark at it! +Why, in all the years I've been in this God-forsaken place--long as +I've been here--I've never yet heard my own name properly spoken. +You're the first, doctor. You shall have the medal." + +"But, man alive, you surely don't let that worry you? Why, I've the +same thing to put up with every day of my life. I smile at it." And +Mahony believed what he said, forgetting, in the antagonism such spleen +roused in him, the annoyance the false stressing of his own name could +sometimes cause him. + +"So did I, once," said Tangye, and wagged his head. "But the day came +when it seemed the last straw; a bit o' mean spite on the part o' this +hell of a country itself." + +"You dislike the colony, it appears, intensely?" + +"You like it?" The counter question came tip for tap. + +"I can be fair to it, I hope, and appreciate its good sides." As +always, the mere hint of an injustice made Mahony passionately just. + +"Came 'ere of your own free will, did you? Weren't crowded out at home? +Or bamboozled by a pack o' lying tales?" Tangye's voice was husky with +eagerness. + +"That I won't say either. But it is entirely my own choice that I +remain here." + +"Well, I say to you, think twice of it! If you have the chance of +gettin' away, take it. It's no place this, doctor, for the likes of you +and me. Haven't you never turned and asked yourself what the devil you +were doin' here? And that reminds me.... There was a line we used to +have drummed into us at school--it's often come back to me since. +COELUM, NON ANIMUM, MUTANT, QUI TRANS MARE CURRUNT. In our green days +we gabbled that off by rote; then, it seemed just one more o' the +eel-sleek phrases the classics are full of. Now, I take off my hat to +the man who wrote it. He knew what he was talkin' about--by the Lord +Harry, he did!" + +The Latin had come out tentatively, with an odd, unused intonation. +Mahony's retort: "How on earth do you know what suits me and what +doesn't?" died on his lips. He was surprised into silence. There had +been nothing in the other's speech to show that he was a man of any +education--rather the reverse. + +Meanwhile Tangye went on: "I grant you it's an antiquated point o' +view; but doesn't that go to prove what I've been sayin'; that you and +me are old-fashioned, too--out-o'-place here, out-o'-date? The modern +sort, the sort that gets on in this country, is a prime hand at cuttin' +his coat to suit his cloth; for all that the stop-at-homes, like the +writer o' that line and other ancients, prate about the Ethiopian's +hide or the leopard and his spots. They didn't buy their experience +dear, like we did; didn't guess that if a man DON'T learn to fit +himself in, when he gets set down in such a land as this, he's a goner; +any more'n they knew that most o' those who hold out here--all of 'em +at any rate who've climbed the ladder, nabbed the plunder--have found +no more difficulty in changin' their spots than they have their +trousers. Yes, doctor, there's only one breed that flourishes, and you +don't need me to tell you which it is. Here they lie"--and he nodded to +right and left of him--"dreamin' o' their money-bags, and their +dividends, and their profits, and how they'll diddle and swindle one +another afresh, soon as the sun gets up to-morrow. Harder 'n nails they +are, and sharp as needles. You ask me why I do my walkin' out in the +night-time? It's so's to avoid the sight o' their mean little eyes, and +their greedy, graspin' faces." + +Mahony's murmured disclaimer fell on deaf ears. Like one who had been +bottled up for months, Tangye flowed on. "What a life! What a set! What +a place to end one's days in! Remember, if you can, the yarns that were +spun round it for our benefit, from twenty thousand safe miles away. It +was the Land o' Promise and Plenty, topful o' gold, strewn over with +nuggets that only waited for hands to pick 'em up.--Lies!--lies from +beginnin' to end! I say to you this is the hardest and cruellest +country ever created, and a man like me's no more good here than the +muck--the parin's and stale fishguts and other leavin's--that knocks +about a harbour and washes against the walls. I'll tell you the only +use I'll have been here, doctor, when my end comes: I'll dung some bit +o' land for 'em with my moulder and rot. That's all. They'd do better +with my sort if they knocked us on the head betimes, and boiled us down +for our fat and marrow." + +Not much in that line to be got from YOUR carcase, my friend, thought +Mahony, with an inward smile. + +But Tangye had paused merely to draw breath. "What I say is, instead o' +layin' snares for us, it ought to be forbid by law to give men o' my +make ship room. At home in the old country we'd find our little nook, +and jog along decently to the end of our days. But just the staid, +respectable, orderly sort I belonged to's neither needed nor wanted +here. I fall to thinkin' sometimes on the fates of the hundreds of +honest, steady-goin' lads, who at one time or another have chucked up +their jobs over there--for this. The drink no doubt's took most: they +never knew before that one COULD sweat as you sweat here. And the rest? +Well, just accident ... or the sun ... or dysentery... or the bloody +toil that goes by the name o' work in these parts--you know the list, +doctor, better'n me. They say the waste o' life in a new country can't +be helped; doesn't matter; has to be. But that's cold comfort to the +wasted. No! I say to you, there ought to be an Act of Parliament to +prevent young fellows squanderin' themselves, throwin' away their lives +as I did mine. For when we're young, we're not sane. Youth's a fever o' +the brain. And I WAS young once, though you mightn't believe it; I had +straight joints, and no pouch under my chin, and my full share o' windy +hopes. Senseless truck these! To be spilled overboard bit by bit--like +on a hundred-mile tramp a new-chum finishes by pitchin' from his swag +all the needless rubbish he's started with. What's wanted to get on +here's somethin' quite else. Horny palms and costive bowels; more'n a +dash o' the sharper; and no sickly squeamishness about knockin' out +other men and steppin' into their shoes. And I was only an ordinary +young chap; not over-strong nor over-shrewd, but honest--honest, by God +I was! That didn't count. It even stood in my way. For I was too good +for this and too mealy-mouthed for that; and while I stuck, considerin' +the fairness of a job, some one who didn't care a damn whether it was +fair or not, walked in over my head and took it from me. There isn't +anything I haven't tried my luck at, and with everything it's been the +same. Nothin's prospered; the money wouldn't come--or stick if it did. +And so here I am--all that's left of me. It isn't much; and by and by a +few rank weeds 'ull spring from it, and old Joey there, who's paid to +grub round the graves, old Joey 'ull curse and say: a weedy fellow +that, a rotten, weedy blackguard; and spit on his hands and hoe, till +the weeds lie bleedin' their juices--the last heirs of me ... the last +issue of my loins!" + +"Pray, does it never occur to you, you fool, that FLOWERS may spring +from you?" + +He had listened to Tangye's diatribe in a white heat of impatience. But +when he spoke he struck an easy tone--nor was he in any hesitation how +to reply: for that, he had played devil's advocate all too often with +himself in private. An unlovely country, yes, as Englishmen understood +beauty; and yet not without a charm of its own. An arduous life, +certainly, and one full of pitfalls for the weak or the unwary; yet he +believed it was no more impossible to win through here, and with clean +hands, than anywhere else. To generalise as his companion had done was +absurd. Preposterous, too, the notion that those of their +fellow-townsmen who had carried off the prizes owed their success to +some superiority in bodily strength ... or sharp dealing ... or +thickness of skin. With Mr. Tangye's permission he would cite himself +as an example. He was neither a very robust man, nor, he ventured to +say, one of any marked ability in the other two directions. Yet he had +managed to succeed without, in the process, sacrificing jot or tittle +of his principles; and to-day he held a position that any member of his +profession across the seas might envy him. + +"Yes, but till you got there!" cried Tangye. "Hasn't every superfluous +bit of you--every thought of interest that wasn't essential to the +daily grind--been pared off?" + +"If," said Mahony stiffening, "if what you mean by that is, have I +allowed my mind to grow narrow and sluggish, I can honestly answer no." + +In his heart he denied the charge even more warmly; for, as he spoke, +he saw the great cork-slabs on which hundreds of moths and butterflies +made dazzling spots of colour; saw the sheets of pink blotting-paper +between which his collection of native plants lay pressed; the glass +case filled with geological specimens; his Bible, the margins of which +round Genesis were black with his handwriting; a pile of books on the +new marvel Spiritualism; Colenso's PENTATEUCH; the big black volumes of +the ARCANA COELESTIA; Locke on Miracles: he saw all these things and +more. "No, I'm glad to say I have retained many interests outside my +work." + +Tangye had taken off his spectacles and was polishing them on a +crumpled handkerchief. He seemed about to reply, even made a quick +half-turn towards Mahony; then thought better of it, and went on +rubbing. A smile played round his lips. + +"And in conclusion let me say this," went on Mahony, not unnettled by +his companion's expression. "It's sheer folly to talk about what life +makes of us. Life is not an active force. It's we who make what we +will, of life. And in order to shape it to the best of our powers, Mr. +Tangye, to put our brief span to the best possible use, we must never +lose faith in God or our fellow-men; never forget that, whatever +happens, there is a sky, with stars in it, above us." + +"Ah, there's a lot of bunkum talked about life," returned Tangye dryly, +and settled his glasses on his nose. "And as man gets near the end of +it, he sees just WHAT bunkum it is. Life's only got one meanin', +doctor; seen plain, there's only one object in everything we do; and +that's to keep a sound roof over our heads and a bite in our +mouths--and in those of the helpless creatures who depend on us. The +rest has no more sense or significance than a nigger's hammerin' on the +tam-tam. The lucky one o' this world don't grasp it; but we others do; +and after all p'raps, it's worth while havin' gone through it to have +got at ONE bit of the truth, however, small. Good night." + +He turned on his heel, and before his words were cold on the air had +vanished, leaving Mahony blankly staring. + +The moonshine still bathed the earth, gloriously untroubled by the +bitterness of human words and thoughts. But the night seemed to have +grown chilly; and Mahony gave an involuntary shiver. "Some one walking +over my ... now what would that specimen have called it? Over the four +by eight my remains will one day manure!" + +"An odd, abusive, wrong-headed fellow," he mused, as he made his way +home. "Who would ever have thought, though, that the queer little +chemist had so much in him? A failure? ... yes, he was right there; and +as unlovely as failures always are--at close quarters." But as he laid +his hands on the gate, he jerked up his head and exclaimed half aloud: +"God bless my soul! What he wanted was not argument or reason but a +little human sympathy." As usual, however, the flash of intuition came +too late. "For such a touchy nature I'm certainly extraordinarily +obtuse where the feelings of others are concerned," he told himself as +he hooked in the latch. + +"Why, Richard, where HAVE you been?" came Mary's clear voice--muted so +as not to disturb John and Jinny, who had retired to rest. Purdy and +she sat waiting on the verandah. "Were you called out? We've had time +to clear everything away. Here, dear, I saved you some sandwiches and a +glass of claret. I'm sure you didn't get any supper yourself, with +looking after other people." + +Long after Mary had fallen asleep he lay wakeful. His foolish blunder +in response to Tangye's appeal rankled in his mind. He could not get +over his insensitiveness. How he had boasted of his prosperity, his +moral nicety, his saving pursuits--he to boast!--when all that was +asked of him was a kindly: "My poor fellow soul, you have indeed fought +a hard fight; but there IS a God above us who will recompense you at +His own time, take the word for it of one who has also been through the +Slough of Despond." And then just these ... these hobbies of his, of +which he had made so much. Now that he was alone with himself he saw +them in a very different light. Lepidoptera collected years since were +still unregistered, plants and stones unclassified; his poor efforts at +elucidating the Bible waited to be brought into line with the Higher +Criticism; Home's levitations and fire-tests called for investigation; +while the leaves of some of the books he had cited had never even been +cut. The mere thought of these things was provocative, rest-destroying. +To induce drowsiness he went methodically through the list of his +acquaintances, and sought to range them under one or other of Tangye's +headings. And over this there came moments when he lapsed into depths +... fetched himself up again--but with an effort ... only to fall +back.... + +But he seemed barely to have closed his eyes when the night-bell rang. +In an instant he was on his feet in the middle of the room, applying +force to his sleep-cogged wits. + +He threw open the sash. "Who's there? What is it?" + +Henry Ocock's groom. "I was to fetch you out to our place at once, +governor." + +"But--Is Mrs. Henry taken ill?" + +"Not as I know of," said the man dryly. "But her and the boss had a bit +of a tiff on the way home, and Madam's excited-like." + +"And am I to pay for their tiffs?" muttered Mahony hotly. + +"Hush, Richard! He'll hear you," warned Mary, and sat up. + +"I shall decline to go. Henry's a regular old woman." + +Mary shook her head. "You can't afford to offend the Henrys. And you +know what he is so hasty. He'd call in some one else on the spot, and +you'd never get back. If only you hadn't stayed out so long, dear, +looking at the moon!" + +"Good God! Mary, is one never to have a moment to oneself? Never a +particle of pleasure or relaxation?" + +"Why, Richard!" expostulated his wife, and even felt a trifle ashamed +of his petulance. "What would you call to-night, I wonder? Wasn't the +whole evening one of pleasure and relaxation?" + +And Mahony, struggling into shirt and trousers, had to admit that he +would be hard put to it to give it another name. + + + + +Chapter IV + +Hush, dolly! Mustn't cry, and make a noise. Uncle Richard's cross. + +Trotty sat on a hassock and rocked a china babe, with all the +appurtenant mother-fuss she had picked up from the tending of her tiny +stepsister. The present Trotty was a demure little maid of some seven +summers, who gave the impression of having been rather rudely +elongated. Her flaxen hair was stiffly imprisoned behind a round black +comb; and her big blue eyes alone remained to her from a lovely +infancy. ("Poor Emma's eyes," said Mary.) + +Imitative as a monkey she went on--with a child's perfect knowledge +that it is all make-believe, yet with an entire credence in the power +of make-believe: "Naughty child--WILL you be quiet? There! You've frown +your counterpane off now. Wonder what next you'll do. I declare I'll +slap you soon--you make me so cross." + +Through the surgery-window the words floated out: "For goodness' sake, +don't bother me now with such trifles, Mary! It's not the moment--with +a whole string of people waiting in the other room." + +"Well, if only you'll be satisfied with what I do, dear, and not blame +me afterwards." + +"Get Purdy to give you a hand with Ned's affair. He has time and to +spare." And wetting his finger-tip Mahony nervously flipped over a +dozen pages of the book that lay open before him. + +"Well ... if you think I should," said Mary, with a spice of doubt. + +"I do. And now go, wife, and remember to shut the door after you. Oh, +and tell that woman in the kitchen to stop singing. Her false notes +drive me crazy.--How many are there, this morning?" + +"Eight--no, nine, if that's another," replied Mary, with an ear to the +front door. + +"Tch! I'll have to stop then," and Mahony clapped to the work he had +been consulting. "Never a minute to keep abreast of the times." But: +"That's a good, helpful wife," as Mary stooped to kiss him. "Do the +best you can, mavourneen, and never mind me." + +"Take me with you, Auntie!" Trotty sprang up from her stool, +overturning babe and cradle. + +"Not to-day, darling. Besides, why are you here? You know I've +forbidden you to be on the front verandah when the patients come. Run +away to the back, and play there." + +Mary donned hat and shawl, opened her parasol and went out into the +sun. With the years she had developed into rather a stately young +woman: she held her head high and walked with a firm, free step. + +Her first visit was to the stable to find Long Jim--or Old Jim as they +now called him; for he was nearing the sixties. The notice to leave, +which he had given the day before, was one of the "trifles" it fell to +her to consider. Personally Mary thought his going would be no great +loss: he knew nothing about a garden, yet resented instruction; and it +had always been necessary to get outside help in for the horses. If he +went they could engage some one who would combine the posts. But +Richard had taken umbrage at the old man's tone; had even been +nervously upset over it. It behoved her to find out what the matter was. + +"I want a change," said Old Jim dourly in response to her inquiry; and +went on polishing wheel-spokes, and making the wheel fly. "I've bin +'ere too long. An' now I've got a bit o' brass together, an' am +thinkin' I'd like to be me own master for a spell." + +"But at your age, Jim, is it wise?--to throw up a comfortable home, +just because you've laid a little past?" + +"It's enough to keep me. I turned over between four and five 'undred +last week in 'Piecrusts.'" + +"Oh!" said Mary, taken by surprise. "Then that--that's your only reason +for wishing to leave?" And as he did not reply, but went on swishing: +"Come, Jim, if you've anything on your mind, say it out. The doctor +didn't like the way you spoke to him last night." + +At this the old man straightened his back, took a straw from between +his teeth, spat and said: "Well, if you must know, Mrs. Mahony, the +doctor's not the boss it pleases me to be h'under any more--and that's +the trewth. I'm tired of it--dog-tired. You can slave yer 'ead off for +'im, and 'e never notices a thing you do, h'or if 'e does, it's on'y to +find fault. It h'ain't 'uman, I say, and I'll be danged if I stand it +h'any longer." + +But people who came to Mary with criticism of Richard got no mercy. +"You're far too touchy, Jim. YOU know, if any one does, how rushed and +busy the doctor is, and you ought to be the first to make allowance for +him--after all he's done for you. You wouldn't be here now, if it +hadn't been for him. And then to expect him to notice and praise you +for every little job you do!" + +But Jim was stubborn. 'E didn't want to deny anything. But 'e'd rather +go. An' this day a week if it suited her. + +"It's really dreadful how uppish the lower classes get as soon as they +have a little money in their pocket," she said to herself, as she +walked the shadeless, sandy road. But this thought was like a shadow +cast by her husband's mind on hers, and was ousted by the more +indigenous: "But after all who can blame him, poor old fellow, for +wanting to take life easy if he has the chance." She even added: "He +might have gone off, as most of them do, without a word." + +Then her mind reverted to what he had said of Richard, and she pondered +the antagonism that had shown through his words. It was not the first +time she had run up against this spirit, but, as usual, she was at a +loss to explain it. Why should people of Old Jim's class dislike +Richard as they did?--find him so hard to get on with? He was +invariably considerate of them, and treated them very generously with +regard to money. And yet ... for some reason or other they felt injured +by him; and thought and spoke of him with a kind of churlish +resentment. She was not clever enough to find the key to the riddle--it +was no such simple explanation as that he felt himself too good for +them. That was not the case: he was proud, certainly, but she had never +known any one who--under, it was true, a rather sarcastic manner--was +more broadly tolerant of his fellow-men. And she wound up her soliloquy +with the lame admission: "Yes, in spite of all his kindness, I suppose +he IS queer ... decidedly queer," and then she heaved a sigh. What a +pity it was! When you knew him to be, at heart, such a dear, good, +well-meaning man. + +A short walk brought her to the four-roomed cottage where Ned lived +with wife and children. Or had lived, till lately. He had been missing +from his home now for over a week. On the last occasion of his being in +Melbourne with the carrying-van, he had decamped, leaving the boy who +was with him to make the return journey alone. Since then, nothing +could be heard of him; and his billet in the Agency had been snapped up. + +"Or so they say!" said his wife, with an angry sniff. "I don't believe +a word of it, Mary. Since the railway's come, biz has gone to the dogs; +and they're only too glad to get the chance of sacking another man." + +Polly looked untidier than ever; she wore a slatternly wrapper, and her +hair was thrust unbrushed into its net. But she suffered, no doubt, in +her own way; she was red-eyed, and very hasty-handed with her nestful +of babes. Sitting in the cheerless parlour, Ned's dark-eyed eldest on +her knee, Mary strove to soothe and encourage. But: it has never been +much of a home for the poor boy was her private opinion; and she +pressed her cheek affectionately against the little black curly head +that was a replica of Ned's own. + +"What's goin' to become of us all, the Lord only knows," said Polly, +after having had the good cry the sympathetic presence of her +sister-in-law justified. "I'm not a brown cent troubled about Ned--only +boiling with 'im. 'E's off on the booze, sure enough--and 'e'll turn up +again, safe and sound, like loose fish always do. Wait till I catch 'im +though! He'll get it hot." + +"We never ought to have come here," she went on drying her eyes. "Drat +the place and all that's in it, that's what I say! He did better'n this +in Castlemaine; and I'd pa behind me there. But once Richard had sent +'im that twenty quid, he'd no rest till he got away. And I thought, +when he was so set on it, may be it'd have a good effect on 'im, to be +near you both. But that was just another shoot into the brown. You've +been A1, Mary; you've done your level best. But Richard's never treated +Ned fair. I don't want to take Ned's part; he's nothing in the world +but a pretty-faced noodle. But Richard's treated 'im as if he was the +dirt under 'is feet. And Ned's felt it. Oh, I know whose doing it was, +we were never asked up to the house when you'd company. It wasn't +YOURS, my dear! But we can't all have hyphens to our names, and go +driving round with kid gloves on our hands and our noses in the air." + +Mary felt quite depressed by this fresh attack on her husband. +Reminding herself, however, that Polly was excited and over-wrought, +she did not speak out the defence that leapt to her tongue. She said +staunchly: "As you put it, Polly, it does seem as if we haven't acted +rightly towards Ned. But it wasn't Richard's doing alone. I've been +just as much to blame as he has." + +She sat on, petting the fractious children and giving kindly +assurances: as long as she and Richard had anything themselves, Ned's +wife and Ned's children should not want: and as she spoke, she slipped +a substantial proof of her words into Polly's unproud hand. Besides, +she believed there was every chance now of Ned soon being restored to +them; and she told how they were going, that very morning, to invoke +Mr. Smith's aid. Mr. Smith was in the Police, as Polly knew, and had +influential friends among the Force in Melbourne. By to-morrow there +might be good news to bring her. + +Almost an hour had passed when she rose to leave. Mrs. Ned was so +grateful for the visit and the help that, out in the narrow little +passage, she threw her arms round Mary's neck and drew her to her +bosom. Holding her thus, after several hearty kisses, she said in a +mysterious whisper, with her lips close to Mary's ear: "Mary, love, may +I say something to you?" and the permission granted, went on: "That is, +give you a bit of a hint, dearie?" + +"Why, of course you may, Polly." + +"Sure you won't feel hurt, dear?" + +"Quite sure. What is it?" and Mary disengaged herself, that she might +look the speaker in the face. + +"Well, it's just this--you mentioned the name yourself, or I wouldn't +have dared. It's young Mr. Smith, Mary. My dear, in future don't you +have 'im quite so much about the house as you do at present. It ain't +the thing. People WILL talk, you know, if you give 'em a handle." ("Oh, +but Polly!" in a blank voice from Mary.) "Now, now, I'm not blaming +you--not the least tiddly-wink. But there's no harm in being careful, +is there, love, if you don't want your name in people's mouths? I'm +that fond of you, Mary--you don't mind me speaking, dearie?" + +"No, Polly, I don't. But it's the greatest nonsense--I never heard such +a thing!" said Mary hotly. "Why, Purdy is Richard's oldest friend. They +were schoolboys together." + +"May be they were. But I hear 'e's mostly up at your place when +Richard's out. And you're a young and pretty woman, my dear; it's +Richard who ought to think of it, and he so much older than you. Well, +just take the hint, love. It comes best, don't it, from one of the +family?" + +But Mary left the house in a sad flurry; and even forgot for a street +length to open her parasol. + +Her first impulse was to go straight to Richard. But she had not +covered half a dozen yards before she saw that this would never do. At +the best of times Richard abominated gossip; and the fact of it having, +in the present case, dared to fasten its fangs in some one belonging to +him would make him doubly wroth. He might even try to find out who had +started the talk; and get himself into hot water over it. Or he might +want to lay all the blame on his own shoulders--make himself the +reproaches Ned's Polly had not spared him. Worse still, he would +perhaps accuse Purdy of inconsiderateness towards her, and fly into a +rage with him; and then the two of them would quarrel, which would be a +thousand pities. For though he often railed at Purdy, yet that was only +Richard's way: he was genuinely fond of him, and unbent to him as to +nobody else. + +But these were just so many pretexts put forward to herself by Mary for +keeping silence; the real reason lay deeper. Eight years of married +life had left her, where certain subjects were concerned, with all the +modesty of her girlhood intact. There were things, indelicate things, +which COULD not be spoken out, even between husband and wife. For her +to have to step before Richard and say: some one else feels for me in +the same way as you, my husband, do, would make her ever after unable +frankly to meet his eyes. Besides giving the vague, cobwebby stuff a +body it did not deserve. + +But yet again this was not the whole truth: she had another, more +uncomfortable side of it to face; and the flies buzzed unheeded round +her head. The astonishment she had shown at her sister-in-law's warning +had not been altogether sincere. Far down in her heart Mary found a +faint, faint trace of complicity. For months past--she could admit it +now--she had not felt easy about Purdy. Something disagreeable, +disturbing, had crept into their relations. The jolly, brotherly manner +she liked so well had deserted him; besides short-tempered he had grown +deadly serious, and not the stupidest woman could fail altogether to +see what the matter was. But she had wilfully bandaged her eyes. And +if, now and then, some word or look had pierced her guard and +disquieted her in spite of herself, she had left it at an incredulous: +"Oh, but then... But even if... In that case...." She now saw her +fervent hope had been that the affair would blow over without coming to +anything; prove to be just another passing fancy on the part of the +unstable Purdy. How many had she not assisted at! This very summer, for +instance, a charming young lady from Sydney had stayed with the +Urquharts; and, as long as her visit lasted, they had seen little or +nothing of Purdy. Whenever he got off duty he was at Yarangobilly. As +it happened, however, Mr. Urquhart himself had been so assiduous in +taking his guest about that Purdy had had small chance of making an +impression. And, in looking back on the incident, what now rose most +clearly before Mary's mind was the way in which Mrs. Urquhart--poor +thing, she was never able to go anywhere with her husband: either she +had a child in arms or another coming; the row of toddlers mounted up +in steps--the way in which she had said, with her pathetic smile: "Ah, +my dear! Willie needs some one gayer and stronger than I am, for +company." Mary's heart had been full of pity at the time, for her +friend's lot; and it swelled again now at the remembrance. + +But oh dear! this was straying from the point. Impatiently she jerked +her thoughts back to herself and her own dilemma. What ought she to do? +She was not a person who could sit still with folded hands and await +events. How would it be if she spoke to Purdy herself? ... talked +seriously to him about his work? ... tried to persuade him to leave +Ballarat. Did he mean to hang on here for ever, she would say--never +intend to seek promotion? But then again, the mere questioning would +cause a certain awkwardness. While, at the slightest trip or blunder on +her part, what was unsaid might suddenly find itself said; and the +whole thing cease to be the vague, cloudy affair it was at present. And +though she would actually rather this happened with regard to Purdy +than Richard, yet ... yet.... + +Worried and perplexed, unable to see before her the straight plain path +she loved, Mary once more sighed from the bottom of her heart. + +"Oh if ONLY men wouldn't be so foolish!" + +Left to himself Mahony put away his books, washed his hands and +summoned one by one to his presence the people who waited in the +adjoining room. He drew a tooth, dressed a wounded wrist, prescribed +for divers internal disorders--all told, a baker's dozen of odd jobs. + +When the last patient had gone he propped open the door, wiped his +forehead and read the thermometer that hung on the wall: it marked 102 +degrees. Dejectedly he drove, in fancy, along the glaring, treeless +roads, inches deep in cinnamon-coloured dust. How one learnt to hate +the sun out here. What wouldn't he give for a cool, grey-green Irish +day, with a wet wind blowing in from the sea?--a day such as he had +heedlessly squandered hundreds of, in his youth. Now it made his mouth +water only to think of them. + +It still wanted ten minutes to ten o'clock and the buggy had not yet +come round. He would lie down and have five minutes' rest before +starting: he had been up most of the night, and on getting home had +been kept awake by neuralgia. + +When an hour later Mary reached home, she was amazed to find groom and +buggy still drawn up in front of the house. + +"Why, Molyneux, what's the matter? Where's the doctor?" + +"I'm sure I don't know, Mrs. Mahony. I've hollered to Biddy half a +dozen times, but she doesn't take any notice. And the mare's that +restless.... There, there, steady old girl, steady now! It's these damn +flies." + +Mary hurried indoors. "Why, Biddy...." + +"Sure and it's yourself," said the big Irishwoman who now filled the +kitchen-billet. "Faith and though you scold me, Mrs. Mahony, I couldn't +bring it over me heart to wake him. The pore man's sleeping like a +saint." + +"Biddy, you ought to know better!" cried Mary peeling off her gloves. + +"It's pale as the dead he is." + +"Rubbish. It's only the reflection of the green blind. RICHARD! Do you +know what the time is?" + +But the first syllable of his name was enough. "Good Lord, Mary, I must +have dropped off. What the dickens.... Come, help me, wife. Why on +earth didn't those fools wake me?" + +Mary held his driving-coat, fetched hat and gloves, while he flung the +necessaries into his bag. "Have you much to do this morning? Oh, that +post-mortem's at twelve, isn't it?" + +"Yes; and a consultation with Munce at eleven--I'll just manage it and +no more," muttered Mahony with an eye on his watch. "I can't let the +mare take it easy this morning. Yes, a full day. And Henry Ocock's +fidgeting for a second opinion; thinks his wife's not making enough +progress. Well, ta-ta, sweetheart! Don't expect me back to lunch." And +taking a short cut across the lawn, he jumped into the buggy and off +they flew. + +Mary's thoughts were all for him in this moment. "How proud we ought to +feel!" she said to herself. "That makes the second time in a week old +Munce has sent for him. But how like Henry Ocock," she went on with +puckered brow. "It's quite insulting--after the trouble Richard has put +himself to. If Agnes's case puzzles him, I should like to know who will +understand it better. I think I'll go and see her myself this +afternoon. It can't be HER wish to call in a stranger." + +Not till some time after did she remember her own private +embarrassment. And, by then, the incident had taken its proper place in +her mind--had sunk to the level of insignificance to which it belonged. + +"Such a piece of nonsense!" was her final verdict. "As if I could worry +Richard with it, when he has so many really important things to occupy +him." + + + + +Chapter V + +Yes, those were palmy days; the rate at which the practice spread +astonished even himself. No slack seasons for him now; winter saw him +as busy as summer; and his chief ground for complaint was that he was +unable to devote the meticulous attention he would have wished to each +individual case. "It would need the strength of an elephant to do +that." But it was impossible not to feel gratified by the many marks of +confidence he received. And if his work had but left him some leisure +for study and an occasional holiday, he would have been content. But in +these years he was never able to get his neck out of the yoke; and Mary +took her annual jaunts to Melbourne and sea-breezes alone. + +In a long talk they had with each other, it was agreed that, except in +an emergency, he was to be chary of entering into fresh +engagements--this referred in the first place to confinements, of which +his book was always full; and secondly, to outlying bush-cases, the +journey to and from which wasted many a precious hour. And where it +would have been impolitic to refuse a new and influential patient, some +one on his list--a doubtful payer or a valetudinarian--was gently to be +let drop. And it was Mary who arranged who this should be. Some umbrage +was bound to be given in the process; but with her help it was reduced +to a minimum. For Mary knew by heart all the links and ramifications of +the houses at which he visited; knew precisely who was related to whom, +by blood or marriage or business; knew where offence might with safety +be risked, and where it would do him harm. She had also a woman's tact +in smoothing things over. A born doctor's wife, declared Mahony in +grateful acknowledgment. For himself he could not keep such fiddling +details in his head for two minutes on end. + +But though he thus succeeded in setting bounds to his activity, he +still had a great deal too much to do; and, in tired moments, or when +tic plagued him, thought the sole way out of the impasse would be to +associate some one with him as partner or assistant. And once he was +within an ace of doing so, chance throwing what he considered a likely +person across his path. In attending a coroner's inquest, he made the +acquaintance of a member of the profession who was on his way from the +Ovens district--a coach journey of well over two hundred miles--to a +place called Walwala, a day's ride to the west of Ballarat. And since +this was a pleasant-spoken man and intelligent--though with a somewhat +down-at-heel look--besides being a stranger to the town, Mahony +impulsively took him home to dinner. In the evening they sat and +talked. The visitor, whose name was Wakefield, was considerably +Mahony's senior. By his own account he had had but a rough time of it +for the past couple of years. A good practice which he had worked up in +the seaport of Warrnambool had come to an untimely end. He did not +enter into the reasons for this. "I was unfortunate ... had a piece of +ill-luck," was how he referred to it. And knowing how fatally easy was +a trip in diagnosis, a slip of the scalpel, Mahony tactfully helped him +over the allusion. From Warrnambool Wakefield had gone to the extreme +north of the colony; but the eighteen months spent there had nearly +been his undoing. Money had not come in badly; but his wife and family +had suffered from the great heat, and the scattered nature of the work +had worn him to skin and bone. He was now casting about him for a more +suitable place. He could not afford to buy a practice, must just creep +in where he found a vacancy. And Walwala, where he understood there had +never been a resident practitioner, seemed to offer an opening. + +Mahony felt genuinely sorry for the man; and after he had gone sat and +revolved the idea, in the event of Walwala proving unsuitable, of +taking Wakefield on as his assistant. He went to bed full of the scheme +and broached it to Mary before they slept. Mary made big eyes to +herself as she listened. Like a wise wife, however, she did not press +her own views that night, while the idea bubbled hot in him; for, at +such times, when some new project seemed to promise the millennium, he +stood opposition badly. But she lay awake telling off the reasons she +would put before him in the morning; and in the dark allowed herself a +tender, tickled little smile at his expense. + +"What a man he is for loading himself up with the wrong sort of +people!" she reflected. "And then afterwards, he gets tired of them, +and impatient with them--as is only natural." + +At breakfast she came back on the subject herself. In her opinion, he +ought to think the matter over very carefully. Not another doctor on +Ballarat had an assistant; and his patients would be sure to resent the +novelty. Those who sent for Dr. Mahony would not thank you to be handed +over to "goodness knows who." + +"Besides, Richard, as things are now, the money wouldn't really be +enough, would it? And just as we have begun to be a little easy +ourselves--I'm afraid you'd miss many comforts you have got used to +again, dear," she wound up, with a mental glance at the fine linen and +smooth service Richard loved. + +Yes, that was true, admitted Mahony with a sigh; and being this morning +in a stale mood, he forthwith knocked flat the card-house it had amused +him to build. Himself he had only half believed in it; or believed so +long as he refrained from going into prosaic details. There was work +for two and money for one--that was the crux of the matter. Successful +as the practice was, it still did not throw off a thousand a year. Bad +debts ran to a couple of hundred annually; and their improved style of +living--the expenses of house and garden, of horses and vehicles, the +men-servants, the open house they had to keep--swallowed every penny of +the rest. Saving was actually harder than when his income had been but +a third of what it was at present. New obligations beset him. For one +thing, he had to keep pace with his colleagues; make a show of being +just as well-to-do as they. Retrenching was out of the question. His +patients would at once imagine that something was wrong--the practice +on the downgrade, his skill deserting him--and take their ailments and +their fees elsewhere. No, the more one had, the more one was forced to +spend; and the few odd hundreds for which Henry Ocock could yearly be +counted on came in very handy. As a rule he laid these by for Mary's +benefit; for her visits to Melbourne, her bonnets and gowns. It also +let her satisfy the needs of her generous little heart in matters of +hospitality--well, it was perhaps not fair to lay the whole blame of +their incessant and lavish entertaining at her door. He himself knew +that it would not do for them to lag a foot behind other people. + +Hence the day on which he would be free to dismiss the subject of money +from his mind seemed as far off as ever. He might indulge wild schemes +of taking assistant or partner; the plain truth was, he could not +afford even the sum needed to settle in a LOCUM TENENS for three +months, while he recuperated.--Another and equally valid reason was +that the right man for a LOCUM was far to seek. As time went on, he +found himself pushed more and more into a single branch of +medicine--one, too, he had never meant to let grow over his head in +this fashion. For it was common medical knowledge out here that, given +the distances and the general lack of conveniences, thirty to forty +maternity cases per year were as much as a practitioner could with +comfort take in hand. HIS books for the past year stood at over a +hundred! The nightwork this meant was unbearable, infants showing a +perverse disinclination to enter the world except under cover of the +dark. + +His popularity--if such it could be called--with the other sex was +something of a mystery to him. For he had not one manner for the +bedside and another for daily life. He never sought to ingratiate +himself with people, or to wheedle them; still less would he stoop to +bully or intimidate; was always by preference the adviser rather than +the dictator. And men did not greatly care for this arm's-length +attitude; they wrote him down haughty and indifferent, and pinned their +faith to a blunter, homelier manner. But with women it was otherwise; +and these also appreciated the fact that, no matter what their rank in +life, their age or their looks, he met them with the deference he +believed due to their sex. Exceptions there were, of course. +Affectation or insincerity angered him--with the "Zaras" of this world +he had scant patience--while among the women themselves, some +few--Ned's wife, for example--felt resentment at his very appearance, +his gestures, his tricks of speech. But the majority were his staunch +partisans; and it was becoming more and more the custom to engage Dr. +Mahony months ahead, thus binding him fast. And though he would +sometimes give Mary a fright by vowing that he was going to "throw up +mid. and be done with it," yet her ambition--and what an ambitious wife +she was, no one but himself knew--that he should some day become one of +the leading specialists on Ballarat, seemed not unlikely of fulfilment. +If his health kept good. And ... and if he could possibly hold out! + +For there still came times when he believed that to turn his back for +ever, on place and people, would make him the happiest of mortals. For +a time this idea had left him in peace. Now it haunted him again. +Perhaps, because he had at last grasped the unpalatable truth that it +would never be his luck to save: if saving were the only key to +freedom, he would still be there, still chained fast, and though he +lived to be a hundred. Certain it was, he did not become a better +colonist as the years went on. He had learnt to hate the famous +climate--the dust and drought and brazen skies; the drenching rains and +bottomless mud--to rebel against the interminable hours he was doomed +to spend in his buggy. By nature he was a recluse--not an outdoor-man +at all. He was tired, too, of the general rampage, the promiscuous +connexions and slap-dash familiarity of colonial life; sick to death of +the all-absorbing struggle to grow richer than his neighbours. He +didn't give a straw for money in itself--only for what it brought him. +And what was the good of that, if he had no leisure to enjoy it? Or was +it the truth that he feared being dragged into the vortex? ... of +learning to care, he, too, whether or no his name topped +subscription-lists; whether his entertainments were the most sumptuous, +his wife the best-dressed woman in her set? Perish the thought! + +He did not disquiet Mary by speaking of these things. Still less did he +try to explain to her another, more elusive side of the matter. It was +this. Did he dig into himself, he saw that his uncongenial surroundings +were not alone to blame for his restless state of mind. There was in +him a gnawing desire for change as change; a distinct fear of being +pinned for too long to the same spot; or, to put it another way, a +conviction that to live on without change meant decay. For him, at +least. Of course, it was absurd to yield to feelings of this kind; at +his age, in his position, with a wife dependent on him. And so he +fought them--even while he indulged them. For this was the year in +which, casting the question of expense to the winds, he pulled down and +rebuilt his house. It came over him one morning on waking that he could +not go on in the old one for another day, so cramped was he, so +tortured by its lath-and-plaster thinness. He had difficulty in winning +Mary over; she was against the outlay, the trouble and confusion +involved; and was only reconciled by the more solid comforts and +greater conveniences offered her. For the new house was of brick, the +first brick house to be built on Ballarat (and oh the joy! said +Richard, of walls so thick that you could not hear through them), had +an extra-wide verandah which might be curtained in for parties and +dances, and a side-entrance for patients, such as Mary had often sighed +for. + +As a result of the new grandeur, more and more flocked to his door. The +present promised to be a record year even in the annals of the Golden +City. The completion of the railway-line to Melbourne was the +outstanding event. Virtually halving the distance to the metropolis in +count of time, it brought a host of fresh people capitalists, +speculators, politicians--about the town, and money grew perceptibly +easier. Letters came more quickly, too; Melbourne newspapers could be +handled almost moist from the press. One no longer had the sense of +lying shut off from the world, behind the wall of a tedious coach +journey. And the merry Ballaratians, who had never feared or shrunk +from the discomforts of this journey, now travelled constantly up and +down: attending the Melbourne race-meetings; the Government House balls +and lawn-parties; bringing back the gossip of Melbourne, together with +its fashions in dress, music and social life. + +Mary, in particular, profited by the change; for in one of those +"general posts" so frequently played by the colonial cabinet, John +Turnham had come out Minister of Railways; and she could have a "free +pass" for the asking. John paid numerous visits to his constituency; +but he was now such an important personage that his relatives hardly +saw him. As likely as not he was the guest of the Henry Ococks in their +new mansion, or of the mayor of the borough. In the past two years +Mahony had only twice exchanged a word with his brother-in-law. + +And then they met again. + +In Melbourne, at six o'clock one January morning, the Honourable John, +about to enter a saloon-compartment of the Ballarat train, paused, with +one foot on the step, and disregarding the polite remarks of the +station-master at his heels, screwed up his prominent black eyes +against the sun. At the farther end of the train, a tall, thin, +fair-whiskered man was peering disconsolately along a row of crowded +carriages. "God bless me! isn't that ... Why, so it is!" And leaving +the official standing, John walked smartly down the platform. + +"My dear Mahony!--this is indeed a surprise. I had no idea you were in +town." + +"Why not have let me know you proposed coming?" he inquired as they +made their way, the train meanwhile held up on their account, towards +John's spacious, reserved saloon. + +("What he means is, why I didn't beg a pass of him.") And Mahony, who +detested asking favours, laid exaggerated emphasis on his want of +knowledge. He had not contemplated the journey till an hour beforehand. +Then, the proposed delegate having been suddenly taken ill, he had been +urgently requested to represent the Masonic Lodge to which he belonged, +at the Installation of a new Grand Master. + +"Ah, so you found it possible to get out of harness for once?" said +John affably, as they took their seats. + +"Yes, by a lucky chance I had no case on hand that could not do without +me for twenty-four hours. And my engagement-book I can leave with +perfect confidence to my wife." + +"Mary is no doubt a very capable woman; I noticed that afresh, when +last she was with us," returned John; and went on to tick off Mary's +qualities like a connoisseur appraising the points of a horse. "A +misfortune that she is not blessed with any family," he added. + +Mahony stiffened; and responded dryly: "I'm not sure that I agree with +you. With all her energy and spirit Mary is none too strong." + +"Well, well! these things are in the hands of Providence; we must take +what is sent us." And caressing his bare chin John gave a hearty yawn. + +The words flicked Mahony's memory: John had had an addition to his +family that winter, in the shape--to the disappointment of all +concerned--of a second daughter. He offered belated congratulations. "A +regular Turnham this time, according to Mary. But I am sorry to hear +Jane has not recovered her strength." + +"Oh, Jane is doing very well. But it has been a real disadvantage that +she could not nurse. The infant is ... well, ah ... perfectly formed, +of course, but small--small." + +"You must send them both to Mary, to be looked after." + +The talk then passed to John's son, now a schoolboy in Geelong; and +John admitted that the reports he received of the lad continued as +unsatisfactory as ever. "The young rascal has ability, they tell me, +but no application." John propounded various theories to account for +the boy having turned out poorly, chief among which was that he had +been left too long in the hands of women. They had overindulged him. +"Mary no more than the rest, my dear fellow," he hastened to smooth +Mahony's rising plumes. "It began with his mother in the first place. +Yes, poor Emma was weak with the boy--lamentably weak!" + +Here, with a disconcerting abruptness, he drew to him a blue linen bag +that lay on the seat, and loosening its string took out a sheaf of +official papers, in which he was soon engrossed. He had had enough of +Mahony's conversation in the meantime, or so it seemed; had thought of +something better to do, and did it. + +His brother-in-law eyed him as he read. "He's a bad colour. Been living +too high, no doubt." + +A couple of new books were on the seat by Mahony; but he did not open +them. He had a tiring day behind him, and the briefest of nights. +Besides attending the masonic ceremony, which had lasted into the small +hours, he had undertaken to make various purchases, not the least +difficult of which was the buying of a present for Mary--all the little +fal-lals that went to finish a lady's ball-dress. Railway-travelling +was, too, something of a novelty to him nowadays; and he sat idly +watching the landscape unroll, and thinking of nothing in particular. +The train was running through mile after mile of flat, treeless +country, liberally sprinkled with trapstones and clumps of tussock +grass, which at a distance could be mistaken for couched sheep. Here +and there stood a solitary she-oak, most doleful of trees, its scraggy, +pine-needle foliage bleached to grey. From the several little stations +along the line: mere three-sided sheds, which bore a printed invitation +to intending passengers to wave a flag or light a lamp, did they wish +to board the train: from these shelters long, bare, red roads, straight +as ruled lines, ran back into the heart of the burnt-up, faded country. +Now and then a moving ruddy cloud on one of them told of some vehicle +crawling its laborious way. + +When John, his memoranda digested, looked up ready to resume their +talk, he found that Mahony was fast asleep; and, since his first words, +loudly uttered, did not rouse him, he took out his case, chose a cigar, +beheaded it and puffed it alight. + +While he smoked, he studied his insensible relative. Mahony was sitting +uncomfortably hunched up; his head had fallen forward and to the side, +his mouth was open, his gloved hands lay limp on his knee. + +"H'm!" said John to himself as he gazed. And: "H'm," he repeated after +an interval.--Then pulling down his waistcoat and generally giving +himself a shake to rights, he reflected that, for his own two-and-forty +years, he was a very well preserved man indeed. + + + + +Chapter VI + +"Oh, Richard!... and my dress is blue," said Mary distractedly, and +sitting back on her heels let her arms fall to her sides. She was on +her knees, and before her lay a cardboard box from which she had +withdrawn a pink fan, pink satin boots with stockings to match, and a +pink head-dress. + +"Well, why the dickens didn't you say so?" burst out the giver. + +"I did, dear. As plainly as I could speak." + +"Never heard a word!" + +"Because you weren't listening. I told you so at the time. Now what am +I to do?" and, in her worry over the contretemps, Mary quite forgot to +thank her husband for the trouble he had been to on her behalf. + +"Get another gown to go with them." + +"Oh, Richard... how like a man! After all the time and money this one +has cost me. No, I couldn't do that. Besides, Agnes Ocock is wearing +pink and wouldn't like it." And with a forehead full of wrinkles she +slowly began to replace the articles in their sheaths. "Of course +they're very nice," she added, as her fingers touched the delicate +textures. + +"They would need to be, considering what I paid for them. I wish now +I'd kept my money in my pocket." + +"Well, your mistake is hardly my fault, is it, dear?" But Richard had +gone off in a mood midway between self-annoyance and the huff. + +Mary's first thought was to send the articles to Jinny with a request +to exchange them for their counterparts in the proper colour. Then she +dismissed the idea. Blind slave to her nursery that Jinny was, she +would hardly be likely to give the matter her personal supervision: the +box would just be returned to the shop, and the transfer left to the +shop-people's discretion. They might even want to charge more. No, +another plan now occurred to Mary. Agnes Ocock might not yet have +secured the various small extras to go with her ball-dress; and, if +not, how nice it would be to make her a present of these. They were +finer, in better taste, than anything to be had on Ballarat; and she +had long owed Agnes some return for her many kindnesses. Herself she +would just make do with the simpler things she could buy in town. And +so, without saying anything to Richard, who would probably have +objected that Henry Ocock was well able to afford to pay for his own +wife's finery, Mary tied up the box and drove to Plevna House, on the +outer edge of Yuille's Swamp. + +"Oh, no, I could never have got myself such beautiful things as these, +Mary," and Mrs. Henry let her hands play lovingly with the silk +stockings, her pretty face a-glow with pleasure. "Henry has no +understanding, dear, for the etceteras of a costume. He thinks, if he +pays for a dress or a mantle, that that is enough; and when the LITTLE +bills come in, he grumbles at what he calls my extravagance. I +sometimes wish, Mary, I had kept back just a teeny-weeny bit of my own +money. Henry would never have missed it, and I should have been able to +settle a small bill for myself now and then. But you know how it is at +first, love. Our one idea is to hand over all we possess to our lord +and master." She tried on the satin boots; they were a little long, but +she would stuff the toes with wadding. "If I am REALLY not robbing you, +Mary?" + +Mary reassured her, and thereupon a visit was paid to the nursery, +where Mr. Henry's son and heir lay sprawling in his cradle. Afterwards +they sat and chatted on the verandah, while a basket was being filled +with peaches for Mary to take home. + +Not even the kindly drapery of a morning-wrapper could conceal the fact +that Agnes was growing stout--quite losing her fine figure. That came +of her having given up riding-exercise. And all to please Mr. Henry. He +did not ride himself, and felt nervous or perhaps a little jealous when +his wife was on horseback. + +She was still very pretty of course--though by daylight the fine bloom +of her cheeks began to break up into a network of tiny veins--and her +fair, smooth brow bore no trace of the tragedy she has gone through. +The double tragedy; for, soon after the master of Dandaloo's death in a +Melbourne lunatic asylum, the little son of the house had died, not yet +fourteen years of age, in an Inebriate's Home. Far was it from Mary to +wish her friend to brood or repine; but to have ceased to remember as +utterly as Agnes had done had something callous about it; and, in her +own heart, Mary devoted a fresh regret to the memory of the poor little +stepchild of fate. + +The ball for which all these silken niceties were destined had been +organised to raise funds for a public monument to the two explorers, +Burke and Wills, and was to be one of the grandest ever given in +Ballarat. His Excellency the Governor would, it was hoped, be present +in person; the ladies had taken extraordinary pains with their +toilettes, and there had been the usual grumblings at expense on the +part of the husbands--though not a man but wished and privately +expected HIS wife "to take the shine out of all the rest." + +Mary had besought Richard to keep that evening free--it was her lot +always to go out to entertainments under some one else's wing--and he +had promised to do his utmost. But, a burnt child in this respect, Mary +said she would believe it when she saw it; and the trend of events +justified her scepticism. The night arrived; she was on the point of +adjusting her wreath of forget-me-nots before her candle-lit mirror, +when the dreaded summons came. Mahony had to change and hurry off, +without a moment's delay. + +"Send for Purdy. He'll see you across," he said as he banged the front +door. + +But Mary despatched the gardener at a run with a note to Tilly Ocock, +who, she knew, would make room for her in her double-seated buggy. + +Grindle got out, and Mary, her bunchy skirts held to her, took his +place at the back beside Mrs. Amelia. Tilly sat next the driver, and +talked to them over her shoulder--a great big jolly rattle of a woman, +who ruled her surroundings autocratically. + +"Lor, no--we left 'im counting eggs," she answered an inquiry on Mary's +part. "Pa's got a brood of Cochin Chinas that's the pride and glory of +'is heart. And 'e's built 'imself the neatest little place for 'em you +could meet on a summer's day: you MUST come over and admire it, my +dear--that'll please 'im, no end. It was a condition I made for 'is +going on keeping fowls. They were a perfect nuisance, all over the +garden and round the kitchen and the back, till it wasn't safe to put +your foot down anywhere--fowls ARE such messy things! At last I up and +said I wouldn't have it any longer. So then 'e and Tom set to work and +built themselves a fowl-house and a run. And there they spend their +days thinking out improvements." + +Here Tilly gave the driver a cautionary dig with her elbow; as she did +this, an under-pocket chinked ominously. "Look out now, Davy, what +you're doing with us!--Yes, that's splosh, Mary. I always bring a bag +of change with me, my dear, so that those who lose shan't have an +excuse for not paying up." Tilly was going to pass her evening, as +usual, at the card-table. "Well, I hope you two'll enjoy yourselves. +Remember now, Mrs. Grindle, if you please, that you're a married woman +and must behave yourself, and not go in for any high jinks," she teased +her prim little stepdaughter, as they dismounted from the conveyance +and stood straightening their petticoats at the entrance to the hall. + +"You know, Matilda, I do not intend to dance to-night," said Mrs Amelia +in her sedate fashion: it was as if she sampled each word before +parting with it. + +"Oh, I know, bless you! and know why, too. If only it's not another +false alarm! Poor old pa' so like to have a grandchild 'e was allowed +to carry round. 'E mustn'n go near Henry's, of course, for fear the kid +'ud swallow one of 'is dropped aitches and choke over it." And Tilly +threw back her head and laughed. "But you must hurry up, Mely, you +know, if you want to oblige 'im." + +"Really, Tilly!" expostulated Mary. ("She sometimes DOES go too far," +she thought to herself. "The poor little woman!") "Let us two keep +together," she said as she took Amelia's arm. "I don't intend to dance +much either, as my husband isn't here." + +But once inside the gaily decorated hall, she found it impossible to +keep her word. Even on her way to a seat beside Agnes Ocock she was +repeatedly stopped, and, when she sat down, up came first one, then +another, to "request the pleasure." She could not go on refusing +everybody: if she did, it would look as if she deliberately set out to +be peculiar--a horrible thought to Mary. Besides, many of those who +made their bow were important, influential gentlemen; for Richard's +sake she must treat them politely. + +For his sake, again, she felt pleased; rightly or wrongly she put the +many attentions shown her down to the fact of her being his wife. So +she turned and offered apologies to Agnes and Amelia, feeling at the +same time thankful that Richard had not Mr. Henry's jealous +disposition. There sat Agnes, looking as pretty as a picture, and was +afraid to dance with any one but her own husband. And he preferred to +play at cards! + +"I think, dear, you might have ventured to accept the Archdeacon for a +quadrille," she whispered behind her fan, as Agnes regretfully declined +Mr. Long. + +But Agnes shook her head. "It's better not, Mary. It saves trouble +afterwards. Henry DOESN'T care to see it." Perhaps Agnes herself, once +a passionate dancer, was growing a little too comfortable, thought +Mary, as her own programme wandered from hand to hand. + +Among the last to arrive was Purdy, red with haste, and making a great +thump with his lame leg as he crossed the floor. + +"I'm beastly late, Polly. What have you got left for me?" + +"Why, really nothing, Purdy. I thought you weren't coming. But you may +put your name down here if you like," and Mary handed him her programme +with her thumb on an empty space: she generally made a point of sitting +out a dance with Purdy that he might not feel neglected; and of late +she had been especially careful not to let him notice any difference in +her treatment of him. But when he gave back the card she found that he +had scribbled his initials in all three blank lines. "Oh, you mustn't +do that. I'm saving those for Richard." + +"Our dance, I believe, Mrs. Mahony?" said a deep voice as the band +struck up "The Rat Quadrilles." And, swaying this way and that in her +flounced blue tarletan, Mary rose, put her hand within the proffered +crook, and went off with the Police Magistrate, an elderly greybeard; +went to walk or be teetotumed through the figures of the dance, with +the supremely sane unconcern that she displayed towards all the arts. + +"What odd behaviour!" murmured Mrs. Henry, following Purdy's retreating +form with her eyes. "He took no notice of us whatever. And did you see, +Amelia, how he stood and stared after Mary? Quite rudely, I thought." + +Here Mrs. Grindle was forced to express an opinion of her own--always a +trial for the nervous little woman. "I think it's because dear Mary +looks so charming to-night, Agnes," she ventured in her mouselike way. +Then moved up to make room for Archdeacon Long, who laid himself out to +entertain the ladies. + +* * * * * + +It was after midnight when Mahony reached home. He would rather have +gone to bed, but having promised Mary to put in an appearance, he +changed and walked down to the town. + +The ball was at its height. He skirted the rotating couples, seeking +Mary. Friends hailed him. + +"Ah, well done, doctor!" + +"Still in time for a spin, sir." + +"Have you seen my wife?" + +"Indeed and I have. Mrs. Mahony's the belle o' the ball." + +"Pleased to hear it. Where is she now?" + +"Look here, Mahony, we've had a reg'lar dispute," cried Willie Urquhart +pressing up; he was flushed and decidedly garrulous. "Almost came to +blows we did, over whose was the finest pair o' shoulders--your wife's +or Henry O.'s. I plumped for Mrs. M., and I b'lieve she topped the +poll. By Jove! that blue gown makes 'em look just like ... what shall I +say? ... like marble." + +"Does fortune smile?" asked Mahony of Henry Ocock as he passed the +card-players: he had cut Urquhart short with a nod. "So his Excellency +didn't turn up, after all?" + +"Sent a telegraphic communication at the last moment. No, I haven't +seen her. But stay, there's Matilda wanting to speak to you, I believe." + +Tilly was making all manner of signs to attract his attention. + +"Good evening, doctor. Yes, I've a message. You'll find 'er in the +cloakroom. She's been in there for the last half-'our or so. I think +she's got the headache or something of that sort, and is waiting for +you to take 'er home." + +"Oh, thank goodness, there you are, Richard!" cried Mary as he opened +the door of the cloakroom; and she rose from the bench on which she had +been sitting with her shawl wrapped round her. "I thought you'd never +come." She was pale, and looked distressed. + +"Why, what's wrong, my dear? ... feeling faint?" asked Mahony +incredulously. "If so, you had better wait for the buggy. It won't be +long now; you ordered it for two o'clock." + +"No, no, I'm not ill, I'd rather walk," said Mary breathlessly. "Only +please let us get away. And without making a fuss." + +"But what's the matter?" + +"I'll tell you as we go. No, these boots won't hurt. And I can walk in +them quite well. Fetch your own things, Richard." Her one wish was to +get her husband out of the building. + +They stepped into the street; it was a hot night and very dark. In her +thin satin dancing-boots, Mary leaned heavily on Richard's arm, as they +turned off the street-pavements into the unpaved roads. + +Mahony let the lights of the main street go past; then said: "And now, +Madam Wife, you'll perhaps be good enough to enlighten me as to what +all this means?" + +"Yes, dear, I will," answered Mary obediently. But her voice trembled; +and Mahony was sharp of hearing. + +"Why, Polly sweetheart ... surely nothing serious?" + +"Yes, it is. I've had a very unpleasant experience this evening, +Richard--very unpleasant indeed. I hardly know how to tell you. I feel +so upset." + +"Come--out with it!" + +In a low voice, with downcast eyes, Mary told her story. All had gone +well till about twelve o'clock: she had danced with this partner and +that, and thoroughly enjoyed herself. Then came Purdy's turn. She was +with Mrs. Long when he claimed her, and she at once suggested that they +should sit out the dance on one of the settees placed round the hall, +where they could amuse themselves by watching the dancers. But Purdy +took no notice--"He was strange in his manner from the very +beginning"--and led her into one of the little rooms that opened off +the main body of the hall. + +"And I didn't like to object. We were conspicuous enough as it was, his +foot made such a bumping noise; it was worse than ever to-night, I +thought." + +For the same reason, though she had felt uncomfortable at being hidden +away in there, she had not cared to refuse to stay: it seemed to make +too much of the thing. Besides, she hoped some other couple would join +them. But + +"But, Mary...!" broke from Mahony; he was blank and bewildered. + +Purdy, however, had got up after a moment or two and shut the door. And +then--"Oh, it's no use, Richard, I can't tell you!" said poor Mary. "I +don't know how to get the words over my lips. I think I've never felt +so ashamed in all my life." And, worn out by the worry and excitement +she had gone through, and afraid, in advance, of what she had still to +face, Mary began to cry. + +Mahony stood still; let her arm drop. "Do you mean me to understand," +he demanded, as if unable to believe his ears: "to understand that +Purdy... dared to... that he dared to behave to you in any but a--" And +since Mary was using her pocket-handkerchief and could not reply: "Good +God! Has the fellow taken leave of his senses? Is he mad? Was he drunk? +Answer me! What does it all mean?" And Mary still continuing silent, he +threw off the hand she had replaced on his arm. "Then you must walk +home alone. I'm going back to get at the truth of this." + +But Mary clung to him. "No, no, you must hear the whole story first." +Anything rather than let him return to the hall. Yes, at first she +thought he really had gone mad. "I can't tell you what I felt, Richard +... knowing it was Purdy--just Purdy. To see him like that--looking so +horrible--and to have to listen to the dreadful things he said! Yes, +I'm sure he had had too too much to drink. His breath smelt so." She +had tried to pull away her hands; but he had held her, had put his arms +round her. + +At the anger she felt racing through her husband she tightened her +grip, stringing meanwhile phrase to phrase with the sole idea of +getting him safely indoors. Not till they were shut in the bedroom did +she give the most humiliating detail of any: how, while she was still +struggling to free herself from Purdy's embrace, the door had opened +and Mr. Grindle looked in. "He drew back at once, of course. But it was +awful, Richard! I turned cold. It seemed to give me more strength, +though. I pulled myself away and got out of the room, I don't know how. +My wreath was falling off. My dress was crumpled. Nothing would have +made me go back to the ballroom. I couldn't have faced Amelia's +husband--I think I shall never be able to face him again," and Mary's +tears flowed anew. + +Richard was stamping about the room, aimlessly moving things from their +places. "God Almighty! he shall answer to me for this. I'll go back and +take a horsewhip with me." + +"For my sake, don't have a scene with him. It would only make matters +worse," she pleaded. + +But Richard strode up and down, treading heedlessly on the flouncings +of her dress. "What?--and let him believe such behaviour can go +unpunished? That whenever it pleases him, he can insult my wife--insult +my wife? Make her the talk of the place? Brand her before the whole +town as a light woman?" + +"Oh, not the whole town, Richard. I shall have to explain to Amelia... +and Tilly ... and Agnes--that's all," sobbed Mary in parenthesis. + +"Yes, and I ask if it's a dignified or decent thing for you to have to +do?--to go running round assuring your friends of your virtue!" cried +Richard furiously. "Let me tell you this, my dear: at whatever door you +knock, you'll be met by disbelief. Fate played you a shabby trick when +it allowed just that low cad to put his head in. What do you think +would be left of any woman's reputation after Grindle Esquire had pawed +it over? No, Mary, you've been rendered impossible; and you'll be made +to feel it for the rest of your days. People will point to you as the +wife who takes advantage of her husband's absence to throw herself into +another man's arms; and to me as the convenient husband who provides +the opportunity"--and Mahony groaned. In an impetuous flight of fancy +he saw his good name smirched, his practice laid waste. + +Mary lifted her head at this, and wiped her eyes. "Oh, you always paint +everything so black. People know me--know I would never, never do such +a thing." + +"Unfortunately we live among human beings, my dear, not in a community +of saints! But what does a good woman know of how a slander of this +kind clings?" + +"But if I have a perfectly clear conscience?" Mary's tone was +incredulous, even a trifle aggrieved. + +"It spells ruin all the same in a hole like this, if it once gets +about." + +"But it shan't. I'll put my pride in my pocket and go to Amelia the +first thing in the morning. I'll make it right somehow.--But I must +say, Richard, in the whole affair I don't think you feel a bit sorry +for me. Or at least only for me as your wife. The horridest part of +what happened was mine, not yours--and I think you might show a little +sympathy." + +"I'm too furious to feel sorry," replied Richard with gaunt +truthfulness, still marching up and down. + +"Well, I do," said Mary with a spice of defiance. "In spite of +everything, I feel sorry that any one could so far forget himself as +Purdy did to-night." + +"You'll be telling me next you have warmer feelings still for him!" +burst out Mahony. "Sorry for the crazy lunatic who, after all these +years, after all I've done for him and the trust I've put in him, +suddenly falls to making love to the woman who bears my name? Why, a +madhouse is the only place he's fit for." + +"There you're unjust. And wrong, too. It ... it wasn't as sudden as you +think. Purdy has been queer in his behaviour for quite a long time now." + +"What in Heaven's name do you mean by that?" + +"I mean what I say," said Mary staunchly, though she turned a still +deeper red. "Oh, you might just as well be angry with yourself for +being so blind and stupid." + +"Do you mean to tell me you were aware of something?" Mahony stopped +short in his perambulations and fixed her, open-mouthed. + +"I couldn't help it.--Not that there was much to know, Richard. And I +thought of coming to you about it--indeed I did. I tried to, more than +once. But you were always so busy; I hadn't the heart to worry you. For +I knew very well how upset you would be." + +"So it comes to this, does it?" said Mahony with biting emphasis. "My +wife consents to another man paying her illicit attentions behind her +husband's back!" + +"Oh, no, no, no! But I knew how fond you were of Purdy. And I always +hoped it would blow over without ... without coming to anything." + +"God forgive me!" cried Mahony passionately. "It takes a woman's brain +to house such a preposterous idea." + +"Oh, I'm not quite the fool you make me out to be, Richard. I've got +some sense in me. But it's always the same. I think of you, and you +think of no one but yourself. I only wanted to spare you. And this is +the thanks I get for it." And sitting down on the side of the bed she +wept bitterly. + +"Will you assure me, madam, that till to-night nothing I could have +objected to has ever passed between you?" + +"No, Richard, I won't! I won't tell you anything else. You get so angry +you don't know what you're saying. And if you can't trust me better +than that--Purdy said to-night you didn't understand me... and never +had." + +"Oh, he did, did he? There we have it! Now I'll know every word the +scoundrel has ever said to you--and if I have to drag it from you by +force." + +But Mary set her lips, with an obstinacy that was something quite new +in her. It first amazed Mahony, then made him doubly angry. One word +gave another; for the first time in their married lives they +quarrelled--quarrelled hotly. And, as always at such times, many a +covert criticism a secret disapproval which neither had ever meant to +breathe to the other, slipped out and added fuel to the fire. It was +appalling to both to find on how many points they stood at variance. + +Some half hour later, leaving Mary still on the edge of the bed, still +crying, Mahony stalked grimly into the surgery and taking pen and paper +scrawled, without even sitting down to do it: + +YOU DAMNED SCOUNDREL! IF EVER YOU SHOW YOUR FACE HERE AGAIN, I'LL +THRASH YOU TO WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR LIFE. + +Then he stepped on to the verandah and crossed the lawn, carrying the +letter in his hand. + +But already his mood was on the turn: it seemed as if, in the physical +effort of putting the words to paper, his rage had spent itself. He was +conscious now of a certain limpness, both of mind and body; his fit of +passion over, he felt dulled, almost indifferent to what had happened. +Now, too, another feeling was taking possession of him, opening up +vistas of a desert emptiness that he hardly dared to face. + +But stay! ... was that not a movement in the patch of blackness under +the fig-tree? Had not something stirred there? He stopped, and strained +his eyes. No, it was only a bough that swayed in the night air. He went +out of the garden to the corner of the road and came back empty handed. +But at the same spot he hesitated, and peered. "Who's there?" he asked +sharply. And again: "Is there any one there?" But the silence remained +unbroken; and once more he saw that the shifting of a branch had misled +him. + +Mary was moving about the bedroom. He ought to go to her and ask pardon +for his violence. But he was not yet come to a stage when he felt equal +to a reconciliation; he would rest for a while, let his troubled +balance right itself. And so he lay down on the surgery sofa, and drew +a rug over him. + +He closed his eyes, but could not sleep. His thoughts raced and flew; +his brain hunted clues and connections. He found himself trying to +piece things together; to fit them in, to recollect. And every now and +then some sound outside would make him start up and listen ... and +listen. Was that not a footstep? ... the step of one who might come +feeling his way... dim-eyed with regret? There were such things in life +as momentary lapses, as ungovernable impulses--as fiery contrition ... +the anguish of remorse. And yet, once more, he sat up and listened till +his ears rang. + +Then, not the ghostly footsteps of a delusive hope, but a hard, human +crunching that made the boards of the verandah shake. Tossing off the +opossum-rug, which had grown unbearably heavy, he sprang to his feet; +was wide awake and at the window, staring sleep-charged into the dawn, +before a human hand had found the night-bell and a distracted voice +cried: + +"Does a doctor live here? A doctor, I say ...?" + + + + +Chapter VII + +The hot airless night had become the hot airless day: in the garden the +leaves on trees and shrubs drooped as under an invisible weight. All +the stale smells of the day before persisted--that of the medicaments +on the shelves, of the unwetted dust on the roads, the sickly odour of +malt from a neighbouring brewery. The blowflies buzzed about the +ceiling; on the table under the lamp a dozen or more moths lay singed +and dead. Now it was nearing six o'clock; clad in his thinnest +driving-coat, Mahony sat and watched the man who had come to fetch him +beat his horse to a lather. + +"Mercy! ... have a little mercy on the poor brute," he said more than +once. + +He had stood out for some time against obeying the summons, which +meant, at lowest, a ten-mile drive. Not if he were offered a hundred +pounds down, was his first impetuous refusal; for he had not seen the +inside of a bed that night. But at this he trapped an odd look in the +other's eyes, and suddenly became aware that he was still dressed as +for the ball. Besides, an equally impetuous answer was flung back at +him: he promised no hundred pounds, said the man--hadn't got it to +offer. He appealed solely to the doctor's humanity: it was a question +of saving a life--that of his only son. So here they were. + +"We doctors have no business with troubles of our own," thought Mahony, +as he listened to the detailed account of an ugly accident. On the roof +of a shed the boy had missed his footing, slipped and fallen some +twenty feet, landing astride a piece of quartering. Picking himself up, +he had managed to crawl home, and at first they thought he would be +able to get through the night without medical aid. But towards two +o'clock his sufferings had grown unbearable. God only knew if, by this +time, he had not succumbed to them. + +"My good man, one does not die of pain alone." + +They followed a flat, treeless road, the grass on either side of which +was burnt to hay. Buggy and harness--the latter eked out with bits of +string and an old bootlace--were coated with the dust of months; and +the gaunt, long-backed horse shuffled through a reddish flour, which +accompanied them as a choking cloud. A swarm of small black flies kept +pace with the vehicle, settling on nose, eyes, neck and hands of its +occupants, crawling over the horse's belly and in and out of its +nostrils. The animal made no effort to shake itself free, seemed +indifferent to the pests: they were only to be disturbed by the hail of +blows which the driver occasionally stood up to deliver. At such +moments Mahony, too, started out of the light doze he was continually +dropping into. + +Arrived at their destination--a miserable wooden shanty on a sheep-run +at the foot of the ranges--he found his patient tossing on a dirty bed, +with a small pulse of 120, while the right thigh was darkly bruised and +swollen. The symptoms pointed to serious internal injuries. He +performed the necessary operation. + +There was evidently no woman about the place; the coffee the father +brought him was thick as mud. On leaving, he promised to return next +day and to bring some one with him to attend to the lad. + +For the home-journey, he got a mount on a young and fidgety mare, whom +he suspected of not long having worn the saddle. In the beginning he +had his hands full with her. Then, however, she ceased her antics and +consented to advance at an easy trot. + +HOW tired he felt! He would have liked to go to bed and sleep for a +week on end. As it was, he could not reckon on even an hour's rest. By +the time he reached home the usual string of patients would await him; +and these disposed of, and a bite of breakfast snatched, out he must +set anew on his morning round. He did not feel well either: the coffee +seemed to have disagreed with him. He had a slight sense of nausea and +was giddy; the road swam before his eyes. Possibly the weather had +something to do with it; though a dull, sunless morning it was hot as +he had never known it. He took out a stud, letting the ends of his +collar fly. + +Poor little Mary, he thought inconsequently: he had hurt and frightened +her by his violence. He felt ashamed of himself now. By daylight he +could see her point of view. Mary was so tactful and resourceful that +she might safely be trusted to hush up the affair, to explain away the +equivocal position in which she had been found. After all, both of them +were known to be decent, God-fearing people. And one had only to look +at Mary to see that here was no light woman. Nobody in his senses--not +even Grindle--could think evil of that broad, transparent brow, of +those straight, kind, merry eyes. + +No, this morning his hurt was a purely personal one. That it should +just be Purdy who did him this wrong! Purdy, playmate and henchman, +ally in how many a boyish enterprise, in the hardships and adventures +of later life. "Mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did +eat of my bread!" Never had he turned a deaf ear to Purdy's needs; he +had fed him and clothed him, caring for him as for a well-loved +brother. Surely few things were harder to bear than a blow in the dark +from one who stood thus deeply in your debt, on whose gratitude you +would have staked your head. It was, of course, conceivable that he had +been swept off his feet by Mary's vivid young beauty, by +over-indulgence, by the glamour of the moment. But if a man could not +restrain his impulses where the wife of his most intimate friend was +concerned ... Another thing: as long as Mary had remained an immature +slip of a girl, Purdy had not given her a thought. When, however, under +her husband's wing she had blossomed out into a lovely womanhood, of +which any man might be proud, then she had found favour in his eyes. +And the slight this put on Mary's sterling moral qualities, on all but +her physical charms, left the worst taste of any in the mouth. + +Then, not content with trying to steal her love, Purdy had also sought +to poison her mind against him. How that rankled! For until now he had +hugged the belief that Purdy's opinion of him was coloured by affection +and respect, by the tradition of years. Whereas, from what Mary had let +fall, he saw that the boy must have been sitting in judgment on him, +regarding his peculiarities with an unloving eye, picking his motives +to pieces: it was like seeing the child of your loins, of your hopes, +your unsleeping care, turn and rend you with black ingratitude. Yes, +everything went to prove Purdy's unworthiness. Only HE had not seen it, +only he had been blind to the truth. And wrapped in this smug blindness +he had given his false friend the run of his home, setting, after the +custom of the country, no veto on his eternal presence. Disloyalty was +certainly abetted by just the extravagant, exaggerated hospitality of +colonial life. Never must the doors of your house be shut; all you had +you were expected to share with any sundowner of fortune who chanced to +stop at your gate. + +The mare shied with a suddenness that almost unseated him: the next +moment she had the bit between her teeth and was galloping down the +road. Clomp-clomp-clomp went her hoofs on the baked clay; the dust +smothered and stung, and he was holding for all he was worth to reins +spanned stiff as iron. On they flew; his body hammered the saddle; his +breath came sobbingly. But he kept his seat; and a couple of miles +farther on he was down, soothing the wild-eyed, quivering, sweating +beast, whose nostrils worked like a pair of bellows. There he stood, +glancing now back along the road, now up at the sky. His hat had gone +flying at the first unexpected plunge; he ought to return and look for +it. But he shrank from the additional fatigue, the delay in reaching +home this would mean. The sky was still overcast: he decided to risk +it. Knotting his handkerchief he spread it cap-wise over his head and +got back into the saddle. + +Mine own familiar friend! And more than that: he could add to David's +plaint and say, my only friend. In Purdy the one person he had been +intimate with passed out of his life. There was nobody to take the +vacant place. He had been far too busy of late years to form new +friendships: what was left of him after the day's work was done was but +a kind of shell: the work was the meaty contents. As you neared the +forties, too, it grew ever harder to fit yourself to other people: your +outlook had become too set, your ideas too unfluid. Hence you clung the +faster to ties formed in the old, golden days, worn though these might +be to the thinness of a hair. And then, there was one's wife, of +course--one's dear, good wife. But just her very dearness and goodness +served to hold possible intimates at arm's length. The knowledge that +you had such a confidante, that all your thoughts were shared with her, +struck disastrously at a free exchange of privacies. No, he was alone. +He had not so much as a dog now, to follow at heel and look up at him +with the melancholy eyes of its race. Old Pompey had come at poison, +and Mary had not wished to have a strange dog in the new house. She did +not care for animals, and the main charge of it would have fallen on +her. He had no time--no time even for a dog! + +Better it would assuredly be to have some one to fall back on: it was +not good for a man to stand so alone. Did troubles come, they would +strike doubly hard because of it; then was the time to rejoice in a +warm, human handclasp. And moodily pondering the reasons for his +solitariness, he was once more inclined to lay a share of the blame on +the conditions of the life. The population of the place was still in a +state of flux: he and a mere handful of others would soon, he believed, +be the oldest residents in Ballarat. People came and went, tried their +luck, failed, and flitted off again, much as in the early days. What +was the use of troubling to become better acquainted with a person, +when, just as you began really to know him, he was up and away? At +home, in the old country, a man as often as not died in the place where +he was born; and the slow, eventless years, spent shoulder to shoulder, +automatically brought about a kind of intimacy. But this was only a +surface reason: there was another that went deeper. He had no talent +for friendship, and he knew it; indeed, he would even invert the thing, +and say bluntly that his nature had a twist in it which directly +hindered friendship; and this, though there came moments when he +longed, as your popular mortal never did, for close companionship. +Sometimes he felt like a hungry man looking on at a banquet, of which +no one invited him to partake, because he had already given it to be +understood that he would decline. But such lapses were few. On nine +days out of ten, he did not feel the need of either making or receiving +confidences; he shrank rather, with a peculiar shy dread, from personal +unbosomings. Some imp housed in him--some wayward, wilful, mocking +Irish devil--bidding him hold back, remain cool, dry-eyed, in face of +others' joys and pains. Hence the break with Purdy was a real calamity. +The associations of some five-and-twenty years were bound up in it; +measured by it, one's marriage seemed a thing of yesterday. And even +more than the friend, he would miss the friendship and all it stood +for: this solid base of joint experience; this past of common memories +into which one could dip as into a well; this handle of "Do you +remember?" which opened the door to such a wealth of anecdote. From now +on, the better part of his life would be a closed book to any but +himself; there were allusions, jests without number, homely turns of +speech, which not a soul but himself would understand. The thought of +it made him feel old and empty; affected him like the news of a +death.--But MUST it be? Was there no other way out? Slow to take hold, +he was a hundred times slower to let go. Before now he had seen himself +sticking by a person through misunderstandings, ingratitude, deception, +to the blank wonder of the onlookers. Would he not be ready here, too, +to forgive ... to forget? + +But he felt hot, hot to suffocation, and his heart was pounding in +uncomfortable fashion. The idea of stripping and plunging into ice-cold +water began to make a delicious appeal to him. Nothing surpassed such a +plunge after a broken night. But of late he had had to be wary of +indulging: a bath of this kind, taken when he was over-tired, was apt +to set the accursed tic a-going; and then he could pace the floor in +agony. And yet... Good God, how hot it was! His head ached +distractedly; an iron band of pain seemed to encircle it. With a sudden +start of alarm he noticed that he had ceased to perspire--now he came +to think of it, not even the wild gallop had induced perspiration. +Pulling up short, he fingered his pulse. It was abnormal, even for him +... and feeble. Was it fancy, or did he really find a difficulty in +breathing? He tore off his collar, threw open the neck of his shirt. He +had a sensation as if all the blood in his body was flying to his head: +his face must certainly be crimson. He put both hands to this top-heavy +head, to support it; and in a blind fit of vertigo all but lost his +balance in the saddle: the trees spun round, the distance went black. +For a second still he kept upright; then he flopped to the ground, +falling face downwards, his arms huddled under him. + +The mare, all her spirit gone, stood lamb-like and waited. As he did +not stir she turned and sniffed at him, curiously. Still he lay prone, +and, having stretched her tired jaws, she raised her head and uttered a +whinny--an almost human cry of distress. This, too, failing in its +effect, she nosed the ground for a few yards, then set out at a gentle, +mane-shaking trot for home. + +* * * * * + +Found, a dark conspicuous heap on the long bare road, and carted back +to town by a passing bullock-waggon, Mahony lay, once the death-like +coma had yielded, and tossed in fever and delirium. By piecing his +broken utterances together Mary learned all she needed to know about +the case he had gone out to attend, and his desperate ride home. But it +was Purdy's name that was oftenest on his lips; it was Purdy he reviled +and implored; and when he sprang up with the idea of calling his false +friend to account, it was as much as she could do to restrain him. + +She had the best of advice. Old Dr. Munce himself came two and three +times a day. Mary had always thought him a dear old man; and she felt +surer than ever of it when he stood patting her hand and bidding her +keep a good heart; for they would certainly pull her husband through. + +"There aren't so many of his kind here, Mrs. Mahony, that we can afford +to lose him." + +But altogether she had never known till now how many and how faithful +their friends were. Hardly, for instance, had Richard been carried in, +stiff as a log and grey as death, when good Mrs. Devine was fumbling +with the latch of the gate, an old sunbonnet perched crooked on her +head: she had run down just as she was, in the midst of shelling peas +for dinner. She begged to be allowed to help with the nursing. But Mary +felt bound to refuse. She knew how the thought of what he might have +said in his delirium would worry Richard, when he recovered his senses: +few men laid such weight as he on keeping their private thoughts +private. + +Not to be done, Mrs. Devine installed herself in the kitchen to +superintend the cooking. Less for the patient, into whom at first only +liquid nourishment could be injected, than: "To see as your own +strength is kep' up, dearie." Tilly swooped down and bore off Trotty. +Delicate fruits, new-laid eggs, jellies and wines came from Agnes +Ocock; while Amelia Grindle, who had no such dainties to offer arrived +every day at three o'clock, to mind the house while Mary slept. +Archdeacon Long was also a frequent visitor, bringing not so much +spiritual as physical aid; for, as the frenzy reached its height and +Richard was maddened by the idea that a plot was brewing against his +life, a pair of strong arms were needed to hold him down. Over and +above this, letters of sympathy flowed in; grateful patients called to +ask with tears in their eyes how the doctor did; virtual strangers +stopped the servant in the street with the same query. Mary was +sometimes quite overwhelmed by the kindness people showed her. + +The days that preceded the crisis were days of keenest anxiety. But +Mary never allowed her heart to fail her. For if, in the small things +of life, she was given to building on a mortal's good sense, how much +more could she rely at such a pass on the sense of the One above all +others. What she said to herself as she moved tirelessly about the sick +room, damping cloths, filling the ice-bag, infiltering drops of +nourishment, was: "God is good!" and these words, far from breathing a +pious resignation, voiced a confidence so bold that it bordered on +irreverence. Their real meaning was: Richard has still ever so much +work to do in the world, curing sick people and saving their lives. God +must know this, and cannot now mean to be so foolish as to WASTE him, +by letting him die. + +And her reliance on the Almighty's far-sighted wisdom was justified. +Richard weathered the crisis, slowly revived to life and health; and +the day came when, laying a thin white hand on hers, he could whisper: +"My poor little wife, what a fright I must have given you!" And added: +"I think an illness of some kind was due--overdue--with me." + +When he was well enough to bear the journey they left home for a +watering-place on the Bay. There, on an open beach facing the Heads, +Mahony lay with his hat pulled forward to shade his eyes, and with +nothing to do but to scoop up handfuls of the fine coral sand and let +it flow again, like liquid silk, through his fingers. From beneath the +brim he watched the water churn and froth on the brown reefs; followed +the sailing-ships which, beginning as mere dots on the horizon, swelled +to stately white waterbirds, and shrivelled again to dots; drank in, +with greedy nostrils, the mixed spice of warm sea, hot seaweed and +aromatic tea-scrub. + +And his strength came back as rapidly as usual. He soon felt well +enough, leaning on Mary's arm, to stroll up and down the sandy roads of +the township; to open book and newspaper; and finally to descend the +cliffs for a dip in the transparent, turquoise sea. At the end of a +month he was at home again, sunburnt and hearty, eager to pick up the +threads he had let fall. And soon Mary was able to make the comfortable +reflection that everything was going on just as before. + +In this, however, she was wrong; never, in their united lives, would +things be quite the same again. Outwardly, the changes might pass +unnoticed--though even here, it was true, a certain name had now to be +avoided, with which they had formerly made free. But this was not +exactly hard to do, Purdy having promptly disappeared: they heard at +second-hand that he had at last accepted promotion and gone to +Melbourne. And since Mary had suffered no inconvenience from his +thoughtless conduct, they tacitly agreed to let the matter rest. That +was on the surface. Inwardly, the differences were more marked. Even in +the mental attitude they adopted towards what had happened, husband and +wife were thoroughly dissimilar. Mary did not refer to it because she +thought it would be foolish to re-open so disagreeable a subject. In +her own mind, however, she faced it frankly, dating back to it as the +night when Purdy had been so odious and Richard so angry. Mahony, on +the other hand, gave the affair a wide berth even in thought. For him +it was a kind of Pandora's box, of which, having once caught a glimpse +of the contents, he did not again dare to raise the lid. Things might +escape from it that would alter his whole life. But he, too, dated from +it in the sense of suddenly becoming aware, with a throb of regret, +that he had left his youth behind him. And such phrases as: "When I was +young," "In my younger days," now fell instinctively from his lips. + +Nor was this all. Deep down in Mary's soul there slumbered a slight +embarrassment; one she could not get the better of: it spread and grew. +This was a faint, ever so faint a doubt of Richard's wisdom. Odd she +had long known him to be, different in many small and some great ways +from those they lived amongst; but hitherto this very oddness of his +had seemed to her an outgrowth on the side of superiority--fairer +judgment, higher motives. Just as she had always looked up to him as +rectitude in person, so she had thought him the embodiment of a fine, +though somewhat unworldly wisdom. Now her faith in his discernment was +shaken. His treatment of her on the night of the ball had shocked, +confused her. She was ready to make allowance for him: she had told her +story clumsily, and had afterwards been both cross and obstinate; while +part of his violence was certainly to be ascribed to his coming +breakdown. But this did not cover everything; and the ungenerous spirit +in which he had met her frankness, his doubt of her word, of her good +faith--his utter unreasonableness in short--had left a cold patch of +astonishment in her, which would not yield. She lit on it at unexpected +moments. Meanwhile, she groped for an epithet that would fit his +behaviour. Beginning with some rather vague and high-flown terms she +gradually came down, until with the sense of having found the right +thing at last, she fixed on the adjective "silly"--a word which, for +the rest, was in common use with Mary, had she to describe anything +that struck her as queer or extravagant. And sitting over her +fancywork, into which, being what Richard called "safe as the grave," +she sewed more thoughts than most women: sitting thus, she would say to +herself with a half smile and an incredulous shake of the head: "SO +silly!" + +But hers was one of those inconvenient natures which trust blindly or +not at all: once worked on by a doubt or a suspicion, they are never +able to shake themselves free of it again. As time went on, she +suffered strange uncertainties where some of Richard's decisions were +concerned. In his good intentions she retained an implicit belief; but +she was not always satisfied that he acted in the wisest way. +Occasionally it struck her that he did not see as clearly as she did; +at other times, that he let a passing whim run away with him and +override his common sense. And, her eyes thus opened, it was not in +Mary to stand dumbly by and watch him make what she held to be +mistakes. Openly to interfere, however, would also have gone against +the grain in her; she had bowed for too long to his greater age and +experience. So, seeing no other way out, she fell back on indirect +methods. To her regret. For, in watching other women "manage" their +husbands, she had felt proud to think that nothing of this kind was +necessary between Richard and her. Now she, too, began to lay little +schemes by which, without his being aware of it, she might influence +his judgment, divert or modify his plans. + +Her enforced use of such tactics did not lessen the admiring affection +she bore him: that was framed to withstand harder tests. Indeed, she +was even aware of an added tenderness towards him, now she saw that it +behoved her to have forethought for them both. But into the wife's love +for her husband there crept something of a mother's love for her child; +for a wayward and impulsive, yet gifted creature, whose welfare and +happiness depended on her alone. And it is open to question whether the +mother dormant in Mary did not fall with a kind of hungry joy on this +late-found task. The work of her hands done, she had known empty hours. +That was over now. With quickened faculties, all her senses on the +alert, she watched, guided, hindered, foresaw. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +Old Ocock failed in health that winter. He was really old now, was two +or three and sixty; and, with the oncoming of the rains and cold, gusty +winds, various infirmities began to plague him. + +"He's done himself rather too well since his marriage," said Mahony in +private. "After being a worker for the greater part of his life, it +would have been better for him to work on to the end." + +Yes, that, Mary could understand and agree with. But Richard continued: +"All it means, of course, is that the poor fellow is beginning to +prepare for his last long journey. These aches and pains of his +represent the packing and the strapping without which not even a short +earthly journey can be undertaken. And his is into eternity." + +Mary, making lace over a pillow, looked up at this, a trifle +apprehensively. "What things you do say! If any one heard you, they'd +think you weren't very... very religious." Her fear lest Richard's +outspokenness should be mistaken for impiety never left her. + +Tilly was plain and to the point. "Like a bear with a sore back that's +what 'e is, since 'e can't get down among his blessed birds. He leads +Tom the life of the condemned, over the feeding of those bantams. As if +the boy could help 'em not laying when they ought!" + +At thirty-six Tilly was the image of her mother. Entirely gone was the +slight crust of acerbity that had threatened her in her maiden days, +when, thanks to her misplaced affections, it had seemed for a time as +if the purple prizes of life--love, offers of marriage, a home of her +own--were going to pass her by. She was now a stout, high-coloured +woman with a roar of a laugh, full, yet firm lips, and the whitest of +teeth. Mary thought her decidedly toned down and improved since her +marriage; but Mahony put it that the means Tilly now had at her +disposal were such as to make people shut an eye to her want of +refinement. However that might be, "old Mrs. Ocock" was welcomed +everywhere--even by those on whom her bouncing manners grated. She was +invariably clad in a thick and handsome black silk gown, over which she +wore all the jewellery she could crowd on her person--huge cameo +brooches, ear-drops, rings and bracelets, lockets and chains. Her name +topped subscription-lists, and, having early weaned her old husband of +his dissenting habits, she was a real prop to Archdeacon Long and his +church, taking the chief and most expensive table at tea-meetings, the +most thankless stall at bazaars. She kept open house, too, and gave +delightful parties, where, while some sat at loo, others were free to +turn the rooms upside-down for a dance, or to ransack wardrobes and +presses for costumes for charades. She drove herself and her friends +about in various vehicles, briskly and well, and indulged besides in +many secret charities. Her husband thought no such woman had ever +trodden the earth, and publicly blessed the day on which he first set +eyes on her. + +"After the dose I'd 'ad with me first, 'twas a bit of a risk, that I +knew. And it put me off me sleep for a night or two before'and. But my +Tilly's the queen o' women--I say the queen, sir! I've never 'ad a +wrong word from 'er, an' when I go she gits every penny I've got. Why, +I'm jiggered if she didn't stop at 'ome from the Races t'other day, an' +all on my account!" + +"Now then, pa, drop it. Or the doctor'll think you've been mixing your +liquors. Give your old pin here and let me poultice it." + +He had another sound reason for gratitude. Somewhere in the background +of his house dwelt his two ne'er-do-well sons; Tilly had accepted their +presence uncomplainingly. Indeed she sometimes stood up for Tom, +against his father. "Now, pa, stop nagging at the boy, will you? You'll +never get anything out of 'im that way. Tom's right enough if you know +how to take him. He'll never set the Thames on fire, if that's what you +mean. But I'm thankful, I can tell you, to have a handy chap like him +at my back. If I 'ad to depend on your silly old paws, I'd never get +anything done at all." + +And so Tom, a flaxen-haired, sheepish-looking man of something over +thirty, led a kind of go-as-you-please existence about the place, a +jack-of-all-trades--in turn carpenter, whitewasher, paper-hanger--an +expert fetcher and carrier, bullied by his father, sheltered under his +stepmother's capacious wing. "It isn't his fault 'e's never come to +anything. 'E hadn't half a chance. The truth is, Mary, for all they say +to the opposite, men are harder than women--so unforgiving-like. Just +because Tom made a slip once, they've never let 'im forget it, but tied +it to 'is coat-tails for 'im to drag with 'im through life. +Littleminded I call it.--Besides, if you ask me, my dear, it must have +been a case of six of one and half a dozen of the other. Tom as +sedoocer!--can you picture it, Mary? It's enough to make one split." +And with a meaning glance at her friend, Tilly broke out in a +contagious peal of laughter. + +As for Johnny--well ... and she shrugged her shoulders. "A bad egg's +bad, Mary, and no amount o' cooking and doctoring 'll sweeten it. But +he didn't make 'imself, did 'e?--and my opinion is, parents should look +to themselves a bit more than they do." + +As she spoke, she threw open the door of the little room where Johnny +housed. It was an odd place. The walls were plastered over with +newspaper-cuttings, with old prints from illustrated journals, with +snippets torn off valentines and keepsakes. Stuck one on another, these +formed a kind of loose wallpaper, which stirred in the draught. Tilly +went on: "I see myself to it being kept cleanish; 'e hates the girl to +come bothering round. Oh, just Johnny's rubbish!" For Mary had stooped +curiously to the table which was littered with a queer collection of +objects: matchboxes on wheels; empty reels of cotton threaded on +strings; bits of wood shaped in rounds and squares; boxes made of +paper; dried seaweed glued in patterns on strips of cardboard. "He's +for ever pottering about with 'em. What amusement 'e gets out of it, +only the Lord can tell." + +She did not mention the fact, known to Mary, that when Johnny had a +drinking-bout it was she who looked after him, got him comfortably to +bed, and made shift to keep the noise from his father's ears. Yes, +Tilly's charity seemed sheerly inexhaustible. + +Again, there was the case of Jinny's children. + +For in this particular winter Tilly had exchanged her black silk for a +stuff gown, heavily trimmed with crepe. She was in mourning for poor +Jinny, who had died not long after giving birth to a third daughter. + +"Died OF the daughter, in more senses than one," was Tilly's verdict. + +John had certainly been extremely put out at the advent of yet another +girl; and the probability was that Jinny had taken his reproaches too +much to heart. However it was, she could not rally; and one day Mary +received a telegram saying that if she wished to see Jinny alive, she +must come at once. No mention was made of Tilly, but Mary ran to her +with the news, and Tilly declared her intention of going, too. "I +suppose I may be allowed to say good-bye to my own sister, even though +I'm not a Honourable?" + +"Not that Jinn and I ever really drew together," she continued as the +train bore them over the ranges. "She'd too much of poor pa in 'er. And +I was all ma. Hard luck that it must just be her who managed to get +such a domineering brute for a husband. You'll excuse me, Mary, won't +you?--a domineering brute!" + +"And to think I once envied her the match!" she went on meditatively, +removing her bonnet and substituting a kind of nightcap intended to +keep her hair free from dust. "Lauks, Mary, it's a good thing fate +doesn't always take us at our word. We don't know which side our +bread's buttered on, and that's the truth. Why, my dear, I wouldn't +exchange my old boy for all the Honourables in creation!" + +They were in time to take leave of Jinny lying white as her pillows +behind the red rep hangings of the bed. The bony parts of her face had +sprung into prominence, her large soft eyes fallen in. John, stalking +solemnly and noiselessly in a long black coat, himself led the two +women to the bedroom, where he left them; they sat down one on each +side of the great fourposter. Jinny hardly glanced at her sister: it +was Mary she wanted, Mary's hand she fumbled for while she told her +trouble. "It's the children, Mary," she whispered. "I can't die happy +because of the children. John doesn't understand them." Jinny's whole +existence was bound up in the three little ones she had brought into +the world. + +"Dearest Jinny, don't fret. I'll look after them for you, and take care +of them," promised Mary wiping away her tears. + +"I thought so," said the dying woman, relieved, but without gratitude: +it seemed but natural to her, who was called upon to give up +everything, that those remaining should make sacrifices. Her fingers +plucked at the sheet. "John's been good to me," she went on, with +closed eyes. "But... if it 'adn't been for the children ... yes, the +children.... I think I'd 'a' done better--" her speech lapsed oddly, +after her years of patient practice--"to 'ave taken ... to 'a' +taken"--the name remained unspoken. + +Tilly raised astonished eyebrows at Mary. "Wandering!" she telegraphed +in lip-language, forming the word very largely and distinctly; for +neither knew of Jinny having had any but her one glorious chance. + +Tilly's big heart yearned over her sister's forlorn little ones; they +could be heard bleating like lambs for the mother to whom till now they +had never cried in vain. Her instant idea was to gather all three up in +her arms and carry them off to her own roomy, childless home, where she +would have given them a delightful, though not maybe a particularly +discriminating upbringing. But the funeral over, the blinds raised, the +two ladies and the elder babes clad in the stiff, expensive mourning +that befitted the widower's social position, John put his foot down: +and to Mary was extremely explicit: "Under no circumstances will I +permit Matilda to have anything to do with the rearing of my children +excellent creature though she be!" + +On the other hand, he would not have been unwilling for Mary to mother +them. This, of course, was out of the question: Richard had accustomed +himself to Trotty, but would thank you, she knew, for any fresh +encroachment on his privacy. Before leaving, however, she promised to +sound him on the plan of placing Trotty as a weekly boarder at a Young +Ladies' Seminary, and taking the infant in her place. For it came out +that John intended to set Zara--Zara, but newly returned from a second +voyage to England and still sipping like a bee at the sweets of various +situations--at the head of his house once more. And Mary could not +imagine Zara rearing a baby. + +Equally hard was it to understand John not having learnt wisdom from +his two previous failures to live with his sister. But, in seeking +tactfully to revive his memory, she ran up against such an ingrained +belief in the superiority of his own kith and kin that she was baffled, +and could only fold her hands and hope for the best. + +"Besides, Jane's children are infinitely more tractable than poor +Emma's," was John's parting shot.--Strange, thought Mary, how attached +John was to his second family. + +He had still another request to make of her. The reports he received of +the boy Johnny, now a pupil at the Geelong Grammar School, grew worse +from term to term. It had become clear to him that he was unfortunate +enough to possess an out-and-out dullard for a son. Regretfully giving +up, therefore, the design he had cherished of educating Johnny for the +law, he had resolved to waste no more good money on the boy, but to +take him, once he was turned fifteen, into his own business. Young +John, however, had proved refractory, expressing a violent antipathy to +the idea of office-life. "It is here that I should be glad of another +opinion--and I turn to you, Mary, my dear. Jane was of no use whatever +in such matters, none whatever, being, and very properly so, entirely +wrapped up in her own children." So Mary arranged to break her homeward +journey at Geelong, for the purpose of seeing and summing up her nephew. + +Johnny--he was Jack at school, but that, of course, his tomfools of +relations couldn't be expected to remember--Johnny was waiting on the +platform when the train steamed in. "Oh, what a bonny boy!" said Mary +to herself. "All poor Emma's good looks." + +Johnny had been kicking his heels disconsolately: another of these +wretched old women coming down to jaw him! He wished every one of them +at the bottom of the sea. However he pulled himself together and went +forward to greet his aunt: he was not in the least bashful. And as they +left the station he took stock of her, out of the tail of his eye. With +a growing approval: this one at any rate he needn't feel ashamed of; +and she was not so dreadfully old after all. Perhaps she mightn't turn +out quite such a wet blanket as the rest; though, from experience, he +couldn't connect any pleasure with relatives' visits: they were nasty +pills that had to be swallowed. He feared and disliked his father; Aunt +Zara had been sheerly ridiculous, with her frills and simpers--the boys +had imitated her for weeks after--and once, most shameful of all, his +stepmother had come down and publicly wept over him. His cheeks still +burnt at the remembrance; and he had been glad to hear that she was +dead: served her jolly well right! But this Aunt Mary seemed a horse of +another colour; and he did not sneak her into town by a back way, as he +had planned to do before seeing her. + +Greatly as Mary might admire the tall fair lad by her side, she found +herself at a loss how to deal with him, the mind of a schoolboy of +thirteen being a closed book to her. Johnny looked demure and answered +"Yes, Aunt Mary," to everything she said; but this was of small +assistance in getting at the real boy inside. + +Johnny had no intention, in the beginning, of taking her into his +often-betrayed and badly bruised confidence. However a happy instinct +led her to suggest a visit to a shop that sold brandy-snaps and +gingerbeer; and this was too much for his strength of mind. Golly, +didn't he have a tuck-in! And a whole pound of bull's-eyes to take back +with him to school! + +It was over the snaps, with an earth-brown moustache drawn round his +fresh young mouth, the underlip of which swelled like a ripe cherry, +that he blurted out: "I say, Aunt Mary, DON'T let the pater stick me in +that beastly old office of his. I ... I want to go to sea." + +"Oh, but Johnny! Your father would never consent to that, I'm sure." + +"I don't see why not," returned the boy in an aggrieved voice. "I hate +figures and father knows it. I tell you I mean to go to sea." And as he +said it his lip shot out, and suddenly, for all his limpid blue eyes +and flaxen hair, it was his father's face that confronted Mary. + +"He wouldn't think it respectable enough, dear. He wants you to rise +higher in the world, and to make money. You must remember who he is." + +"Bosh!" said Johnny. "Look at Uncle Ned ... and Uncle Jerry ... and the +governor himself. He didn't have to sit in a beastly old hole of an +office when he was my age." + +"That was quite different," said Mary weakly. "And as for your Uncle +Jerry, Johnny--why, afterwards he was as glad as could be to get into +an office at all." + +"Well, I'd sooner be hanged!" retorted young John. But the next minute +flinging away dull care, he inquired briskly: "Can you play tipcat, +Aunt Mary?" And vanquished by her air of kindly interest, he gave her +his supreme confidence. "I say, don't peach, will you, but I've got a +white rat. I keep it in a locker under my bed." + + +A NICE FRANK HANDSOME BOY, wrote Mary. DON'T BE TOO HARD ON HIM, JOHN. +HIS GREAT WISH IS TO TRAVEL AND SEE THE WORLD--OR AS HE PUTS IT, TO GO +TO SEA. MIGHTN'T IT BE A GOOD THING TO HUMOUR HIM IN THIS? A TASTE OF +THE HARDSHIPS OF LIFE WOULD SOON CURE HIM OF ANY SUCH FANCIES. + + +"Stuff and nonsense!" said John the father, and threw the letter from +him. "I didn't send Mary there to let the young devil get round her +like that." And thereupon he wrote to the Headmaster that the screw was +to be applied to Johnny as never before. This was his last chance. If +it failed, and his next report showed no improvement, he would be taken +away without further ado and planked down under his father's nose. No +son of his should go to sea, he was damned if they should! For, like +many another who has yielded to the wandering passion in his youth, +John had small mercy on it when it reared its head in his descendants. + + + + +Chapter IX + +Henry Ocock was pressing for a second opinion; his wife had been in +poor health since the birth of her last child. Mahony drove to Plevna +House one morning between nine and ten o'clock. + +A thankless task lay before him. Mrs. Henry's case had been a fruitful +source of worry to him; and he now saw nothing for it but a straight +talk with Henry himself. + +He drove past what had once been the Great Swamp. From a bed of +cattle-ploughed mud interspersed with reedy water-holes; in summer a +dry and dust-swept hollow: from this, the vast natural depression had +been transformed into a graceful lake, some three hundred acres in +extent. On its surface pleasure boats lay at their moorings by jetties +and boatsheds; groups of stiff-necked swans sailed or ducked and +straddled; while shady walks followed the banks, where the whiplike +branches of the willows, showing shoots of tenderest green, trailed in +the water or swayed like loose harp-strings to the breeze. + +All the houses that had sprung up round Lake Wendouree had well-stocked +spreading grounds; but Ocock's outdid the rest. The groom opening a +pair of decorative iron gates which were the showpiece of the +neighbourhood, Mahony turned in and drove past exotic firs, Moreton Bay +fig-trees and araucarias; past cherished English hollies growing side +by side with giant cacti. In one corner stood a rockery, where a +fountain played and goldfish swam in a basin. The house itself, of +brick and two-storeyed, with massive bay-windows, had an ornamental +verandah on one side. The drawing-room was a medley of gilt and +lustres, mirrors and glass shades; the finest objects from Dandaloo had +been brought here, only to be outdone by Henry's own additions. Yes, +Ocock lived in grand style nowadays, as befitted one of the most +important men in the town. His old father once gone--and Mahony alone +knew why the latter's existence acted as a drag--he would no doubt +stand for Parliament. + +Invited to walk into the breakfast-room, Mahony there found the family +seated at table. It was a charming scene. Behind the urn Mrs. Henry, in +be-ribboned cap and morning wrapper, dandled her infant; while Henry, +in oriental gown and Turkish fez, had laid his newspaper by to ride his +young son on his foot. Mahony refused tea or coffee; but could not +avoid drawing up a chair, touching the peachy cheeks of the children +held aloft for his inspection, and meeting a fire of playful sallies +and kindly inquiries. As he did so, he was sensitively aware that it +fell to him to break up the peace of this household. Only he knew the +canker that had begun to eat at its roots. + +The children borne off, Mrs. Henry interrogated her husband's pleasure +with a pretty: "May I?" or "Should I?" lift of the brows; and gathering +that he wished her to retire, laid her small, plump hand in Mahony's, +sent a graceful message to "dearest Mary," and swept the folds of her +gown from the room. Henry followed her with a well-pleased eye--his +opinion was no secret that, in figure and bearing, his wife bore a +marked resemblance to her Majesty the Queen--and admonished her not to +fail to partake of some light refreshment during the morning, in the +shape of a glass of sherry and a biscuit. "Unless, my love, you prefer +me to order cook to whip you up an egg-nog.--Mrs. Ocock is, I regret to +say, entirely without appetite again," he went on, as the door closed +behind his wife. "What she eats is not enough to keep a sparrow going. +You must prove your skill, doctor, and oblige us by prescribing a still +more powerful tonic or appetiser. The last had no effect whatever." He +spoke from the hearthrug, where he had gone to warm his skirts at the +wood fire, audibly fingering the while a nest of sovereigns in a +waistcoat pocket. + +"I feared as much," said Mahony gravely; and therewith took the plunge. + +When some twenty minutes later he emerged from the house, he was +unaccompanied, and himself pulled the front door to behind him. He +stood frowning heavily as he snapped the catches of his gloves, and +fell foul of the groom over a buckle of the harness, in a fashion that +left the man open-mouthed. "Blow me, if I don't believe he's got the +sack!" thought the man in driving townwards. + +The abrupt stoppage of Richard's visits to Plevna House staggered Mary. +And since she could get nothing out of her husband, she tied on her +bonnet and went off hotfoot to question her friend. But Mrs. Henry +tearfully declared her ignorance she had listened in fear and trembling +to the sound of the two angry voices--and Henry was adamant. They had +already called in another doctor. + +Mary came home greatly distressed, and, Richard still wearing his +obstinate front, she ended by losing her temper. He knew well enough, +said she, it was not her way to interfere or to be inquisitive about +his patients; but this was different; this had to do with one of her +dearest friends; she must know. In her ears rang Agnes's words: "Henry +told me, love, he wouldn't insult me by repeating what your husband +said of me. Oh, Mary, isn't it dreadful? And when I liked him so as a +doctor!"--She now repeated them aloud. + +This was too much for Mahony. He blazed up. "The confounded +mischiefmonger--the backbiter! Well, if you will have it, wife, here +you are ... here's the truth. What I said to Ocock was: I said, my good +man, if you want your wife to get over her next confinement more +quickly, keep the sherry-decanter out of her reach." + +Mary gasped and sank on a chair, letting her arms flop to her side. +"Richard!" she ejaculated. "Oh, Richard, you never did!" + +"I did indeed, my dear.--Oh well, not in just those words, of course; +we doctors must always wrap the truth up in silver paper.--And I should +feel it my duty to do the same again to-morrow; though there are +pleasanter things in life, Mary, I can assure you, than informing a low +mongrel like Ocock that his wife is drinking on the sly. You can have +no notion, my dear, of the compliments one calls down on one's head by +so doing. The case is beyond my grasp, of course, and I am cloaking my +own shortcomings by making scandalous insinuations against a delicate +lady, who 'takes no more than her position entitles her to'--his very +words, Mary!--'for the purpose of keeping up her strength.'" And Mahony +laughed hotly. + +"Yes, but was it--I mean... was it really necessary to say it?" +stammered Mary still at sea. And as her husband only shrugged his +shoulders: "Then I can't pretend to be surprised at what has happened, +Richard. Mr. Henry will NEVER forgive you. He thinks so much of +everything and every one belonging to him." + +"Pray, can I help that? ... help his infernal pride? And, good God, +Mary, can't you see that, far more terrible than my having had to tell +him the truth, is the fact of there being such a truth to tell?" + +"Oh yes, indeed I can," and the warm tears rushed to Mary's eyes. +"Poor, poor little Agnes!--Richard, it comes of her having once been +married to that dreadful man. And though she doesn't say so, yet I +don't believe she's really happy in her second marriage either. There +are so many things she's not allowed to do--and she's afraid of Mr. +Henry, I know she is. You see he's displeased when she's dull or +unwell; she must always be bright and look pretty; and I expect the +truth is, since her illness she has taken to taking things, just to +keep her spirits up." Here Mary saw a ray of light, and snatched at it. +"But in that case mightn't the need for them pass, as she grows +stronger?" + +"I lay no claim to be a prophet, my dear." + +"For it does seem strange that I never noticed anything," went on Mary, +more to herself than to him. "I've seen Agnes at all hours of the +day... when she wasn't in the least expecting visitors.--Yes, Richard, +I do know people sometimes eat things to take the smell away. But the +idea of Agnes doing anything so ... so low--oh, isn't it JUST possible +there might be some mistake?" + +"Oh, well, if you're going to imitate Ocock and try to teach me my +business!" gave back Mahony with an angry gesture, and sitting down at +the table, he pulled books and papers to him. + +"As if such a thing would ever occur to me! It's only that ... that +somehow my brain won't take it in. Agnes has always been such a dear +good little soul, all kindness. She's never done anybody any harm or +said a hard word about any one, all the years I've known her. I simply +CAN'T believe it of her, and that's the truth. As for what people will +say when it gets about that you've been shown the door in a house like +Mr. Henry's--why, I'm afraid even to think of it!" and powerless any +longer to keep back her tears, Mary hastened from the room. + +But she also thought it wiser to get away before Richard had time to +frame the request that she should break off all intercourse with Plevna +House. This, she could never promise to do; and the result might be a +quarrel. Whereas if she avoided giving her word, she would be free to +slip out now and then to see poor Agnes, when Richard was on his rounds +and Mr. Henry at business. But this was the only point clear to her. In +standing up for her friend she had been perfectly sincere: to think ill +of a person she cared for, cost Mary an inward struggle. Against this, +however, she had an antipathy to set that was almost stronger than +herself. Of all forms of vice, intemperance was the one she hated most. +She lived in a country where it was, alas! only too common; but she had +never learnt to tolerate it, or to look with a lenient eye on those who +succumbed: and whether these were but slaves of the nipping habit; or +the eternal dram-drinkers who felt fit for nothing if they had not a +peg inside them; or those seasoned topers who drank their companions +under the table without themselves turning a hair; or yet again those +who, sober for three parts of the year, spent the fourth in secret +debauches. Herself she had remained as rigidly abstemious as in the +days of her girlhood. And she often mused, with a glow at her heart, on +her great good fortune in having found in Richard one whose views on +this subject were no less strict than her own. Hence her distress at +his disclosure was caused not alone by the threatened loss of a +friendship: she wept for the horror with which the knowledge filled her. + +Little by little, though, her mind worked round to what was, after all, +the chief consideration: Richard's action and its probable +consequences. And here once more she was divided against herself. For a +moment she had hoped her husband would own the chance of him being in +error. But she soon saw that this would never do. A mistake on his part +would be a blow to his reputation. Besides making enemies of people +like the Henrys for nothing. If he had to lose them as patients, it +might as well be for a good solid reason, she told herself with a dash +of his own asperity. No, it was a case of either husband or friend. And +though she pitied Agnes from the bottom of her heart, yet there were +literally no lengths she would have shrunk from going to, to spare +Richard pain or even anxiety. And this led her on to wonder whether, +granted things were as he said, he had approached Mr. Henry in the most +discreet way. Could he not have avoided a complete break? She sat and +pondered this question till her head ached, finding herself up against +the irreconcilability of the practical with the ideal which complicates +a man's working life. What she belatedly tried to think out for her +husband was some little common-sense stratagem by means of which he +could have salved his conscience, without giving offence. He might have +said that the drugs he was prescribing would be nullified by the use of +wine or spirits; even better, have warned Agnes in private. Somehow, it +might surely have been managed. Mr. Henry had no doubt been extremely +rude and overbearing; but in earlier years Richard had known how to +behave towards ill-breeding. She couldn't tell why, but he was finding +it more and more difficult to get on with people nowadays. He certainly +had a very great deal to do, and was often tired out. Again, he did not +need to care so much as formerly whether he offended people or +not--ordinary patients, that was; the Henrys, of course, were of the +utmost consequence. Still, once on a time he had been noted for his +tact; it was sad to see it leaving him in the lurch. Several times of +late she had been forced to step in and smooth out awkwardnesses. But a +week ago he had had poor little Amelia Grindle up in arms, by telling +her that her sickly first-born would mentally never be quite like other +children. To every one else this had been plain from the outset; but +Amelia had suspected nothing, having, poor thing, no idea when a babe +ought to begin to take notice or cut its teeth. Richard said it was +better for her to face the truth betimes than to spend her life vainly +hoping and fretting; indeed, it would not be right of him to allow it. +Poor dear Richard! He set such store by truth and principle--and she, +Mary, would not have had him otherwise. All the same, she thought that +in both cases a small compromise would not have hurt him. But +compromise he would not ... or could not. And as, recalled to reality +by the sight of the week's washing, which strained, ballooned, +collapsed, on its lines in the yard--Biddy was again letting the +clothes get much too dry!--as Mary rose to her feet, she manfully +squared her shoulders to meet the weight of the new burden that was +being laid on them. + +With regard to Mahony, it might be supposed that having faithfully done +what he believed to be his duty, he would enjoy the fruits of a quiet +mind. This was not so. Before many hours had passed he was wrestling +with the incident anew; and a true son of that nation which, for all +its level-headedness, spends its best strength in fighting shadows, he +felt a great deal angrier in retrospect than he had done at the moment. +It was not alone the fact of him having got his conge--no medico was +safe from THAT punch below the belt. His bitterness was aimed at +himself. Once more he had let himself be hoodwinked; had written down +the smooth civility it pleased Ocock to adopt towards him to respect +and esteem. Now that the veil was torn, he saw how poor the lawyer's +opinion of him actually was. And always had been. For a memory was +struggling to emerge in him, setting strings in vibration. And suddenly +there rose before him a picture of Ocock that time had dimmed. He saw +the latter standing in the dark, crowded lobby of the court-house, +cursing at him for letting their witness escape. There it was! There, +in these two scenes, far apart as they lay, you had the whole man. The +unctuous blandness, the sleek courtesy was but a mask, which he wore +for you just so long as you did not hinder him by getting in his way. +That was the unpardonable sin. For Ocock was out to succeed--to succeed +at any price and by any means. In tracing his course, no goal but this +had ever stood before him. The obligations that bore on your ordinary +mortal--a sense of honesty, of responsibility to one's fellows, the +soft pull of domestic ties--did not trouble Ocock. He laughed them +down, or wrung their necks like so many pullets. And should the poor +little woman who bore his name become a drag on him, she would be +tossed on to the rubbish-heap with the rest. In a way, so complete a +freedom from altruistic motives had something grandiose about it. But +those who ran up against it, and could not fight it with its own +weapons, had not an earthly chance. + +Thus Mahony sat in judgment, giving rein for once to his ingrained +dislike for the man of whom he had now made an enemy. In whose debt, +for the rest, he stood deep. And had done, ever since the day he had +been fool enough, like the fly in the nursery rhyme, to seek out Ocock +and his familiars in their grimy little "parlour" in Chancery Lane. + +But his first heat spent he soon cooled down, and was able to laugh at +the stagy explosiveness of his attitude. So much for the personal side +of the matter. Looked at from a business angle it was more serious. The +fact of him having been shown the door by a patient of Ocock's standing +was bound, as Mary saw, to react unfavourably on the rest of the +practice. The news would run like wildfire through the place; never +were such hotbeds of gossip as these colonial towns. Besides, the +colleague who had been called in to Mrs. Agnes in his stead, was none +too well disposed towards him. + +His fears were justified. It quickly got about that he had made a +blunder: all Mrs. Henry needed, said the new-comer, was change of air +and scene; and forthwith the lady was packed off on a trial trip to +Sydney. Mahony held his head high, and refused to notice looks and +hints. But he knew all about what went on behind his back: he was +morbidly sensitive to atmosphere; could tell how a house was charged as +soon as he crossed the threshold. People were saying: a mistake there, +why not here, too? Slow recoveries asked themselves if a fresh +treatment might not benefit them; lovers of blue pills hungered for +more drastic remedies. The disaffection would blow over, of course; but +it was painful while it lasted; and things were not bettered by one of +his patients choosing just this inconvenient moment to die--an elderly +man, down with the Russian influenza, who disobeyed orders, got up too +early and was carried off by double pneumonia inside a week.--Worry +over the mishap robbed his poor medical attendant of sleep for several +nights on end. + +Not that this was surprising; he found it much harder than of old to +keep his mind from running on his patients outside working-hours. In +his younger days he had laid down fixed rules on this score. Every +brainworker, he held, must in his spare time be able to detach his +thoughts from his chief business, pin them to something of quite +another kind, no matter how trivial: keep fowls or root round gardens, +play the flute or go in for carpentry. Now, he might have dug till his +palms blistered, it would not help. Those he prescribed for teased him +like a pack of spirit-presences, which clamour to be heard. And if a +serious case took a turn for the worse, he would find himself rising in +a sweat of uncertainty, and going lamp in hand into the surgery, to con +over a prescription he had written during the day. And one knew where +THAT kind of thing led! + +Now, as if all this were not enough, there was added to it the old, +evergreen botheration about money. + + + + +Chapter X + +Thus far, Ocock had nursed his mining investments for him with a +fatherly care. He himself had been free as a bird from responsibility. +Every now and again he would drop in at the office, just to make sure +the lawyer was on the alert; and each time he came home cheerful with +confidence. That was over now. As a first result of the breach, he +missed--or so he believed--clearing four hundred pounds. Among the +shares he held was one lot which till now had proved a sorry bargain. +Soon after purchase something had gone wrong with the management of the +claim; there had been a lawsuit, followed by calls unending and never a +dividend. Now, when these shares unexpectedly swung up to a high +level--only to drop the week after to their standing figure--Ocock +failed to sell out in the nick of time. Called to account, he replied +that it was customary in these matters for his clients to advise him; +thus deepening Mahony's sense of obligation. Stabbed in his touchiness, +he wrote for all his scrip to be handed over to him; and thereafter +loss and gain depended on himself alone. It certainly brought a new +element of variety into his life. The mischief was, he could get to his +study of the money-market only with a fagged brain. And the fear lest +he should do something rash or let a lucky chance slip kept him on +tenter-hooks. + +It was about this time that Mary, seated one evening in face of her +husband, found herself reflecting: "When one comes to think of it, how +seldom Richard ever smiles nowadays." + +For a wonder they were at a soiree together, at the house of one of +Mahony's colleagues. The company consisted of the inner circle of +friends and acquaintances: "Always the same people--the old job lot! +One knows before they open their mouths what they'll say and how +they'll say it," Richard had grumbled as he dressed. The Henry Ococks +were not there though, it being common knowledge that the two men +declined to meet; and a dash of fresh blood was present in the shape of +a lady and gentleman just "out from home." Richard got into talk with +this couple, and Mary, watching him fondly, could not but be struck by +his animation. His eyes lit up, he laughed and chatted, made merry +repartee: she was carried back to the time when she had known him +first. In those days his natural gravity was often cut through by a +mood of high spirits, of boyish jollity, which, if only by way of +contrast, rendered him a delightful companion. She grew a little +wistful, as she sat comparing present with past. And loath though she +was to dig deep, for fear of stirring up uncomfortable things, she +could not escape the discovery that, in spite of all his success--and +his career there had surpassed their dearest hopes--in spite of the +natural gifts fortune had showered on him, Richard was not what you +would call a happy man. No, nor even moderately happy. Why this should +be, it went beyond her to say. He had everything he could wish for: +yes, everything, except perhaps a little more time to himself, and +better health. He was not as strong as she would have liked to see him. +Nothing radically wrong, of course, but enough to fidget him. Might not +this ... this--he himself called it "want of tone"--be a reason for the +scant pleasure he got out of life? And: "I think I'll pop down and see +Dr. Munce about him one morning, without a word to him," was how she +eased her mind and wound up her reverie. + +But daylight, and the most prosaic hours of the twenty-four, made the +plan look absurd. + +Once alive though to his condition, she felt deeply sorry for him in +his patent inability ever to be content. It was a thousand pities. +Things might have run so smoothly for him, he have got so much +satisfaction out of them, if only he could have braced himself to +regard life in cheerier fashion. But at this Mary stopped ... and +wondered ... and wondered. Was that really true? Positively her +experiences of late led her to believe that Richard would be less happy +still if he had nothing to be unhappy about.--But dear me! this was +getting out of her depth altogether. She shook her head and rebuked +herself for growing fanciful. + +All the same, her new glimpse of his inmost nature made her doubly +tender of thwarting him; hence, she did not set her face as firmly as +she might otherwise have done, against a wild plan he now formed of +again altering, or indeed rebuilding the house; although she could +scarcely think of it with patience. She liked her house so well as it +stood; and it was amply big enough: there was only the pair of them... +and John's child. It had the name, she knew, of being one of the most +comfortable and best-kept in Ballarat. Brick for solidity, where wood +prevailed, with a wide snowy verandah up the posts of which rare +creepers ran, twining their tendrils one with another to form a screen +against the sun. Now, what must Richard do but uproot the creepers and +pull down the verandah, thus baring the walls to the fierce summer +heat; plaster over the brick; and, more outlandish still, add a top +storey. When she came back from Melbourne, where she had gone +a-visiting to escape the upset--Richard, ordinarily so sensitive, had +managed to endure it quite well, thus proving that he COULD put up with +discomfort if he wanted to--when she saw it again, Mary hardly +recognised her home. Personally she thought it ugly, for all its +grandeur; changed wholly for the worse. Nor did time ever reconcile her +to the upper storey. Domestic worries bred from it: the servant went +off in a huff because of the stairs; they were at once obliged to +double their staff. To cap it all, with its flat front unbroken by bay +or porch, the house looked like no other in the town. Now, instead of +passing admiring remarks, people stood stock-still before the gate to +laugh at its droll appearance. + +Yet, she would gladly have made the best of this, had Richard been the +happier for it. He was not--or only for the briefest of intervals. Then +his restlessness broke out afresh. + +There came days when nothing suited him; not his fine consulting room, +or the improved furnishings of the house, or even her cookery of which +he had once been so fond. He grew dainty to a degree; she searched her +cookery-book for piquant recipes. Next he fell to imagining it was +unhealthy to sleep on feathers, and went to the expense of having a +hard horsehair mattress made to fit the bed. Accustomed to the softest +down, he naturally tossed and turned all night long, and rose in the +morning declaring he felt as though he had been beaten with sticks. The +mattress was stowed away in a lean-to behind the kitchen, and there it +remained. It was not alone. Mary sometimes stood and considered, with a +rueful eye, the many discarded objects that bore it company. +Richard--oddly enough he was ever able to poke fun at himself--had +christened this outhouse "the cemetery of dead fads." Here was a set of +Indian clubs he had been going to harden his muscles with every +morning, and had used for a week; together with an india-rubber +gymnastic apparatus bought for the same purpose. Here stood a patent +shower-bath, that was to have dashed energy over him after a bad night, +and had only succeeded in giving him acute neuralgia; a standing-desk +he had broken his back at for a couple of days; a homoeopathic +medicine-chest and a phrenological head--both subjects he had meant to +satisfy his curiosity by looking into, had time not failed him. Mary +sighed, when she thought of the waste of good money these and similar +articles stood for. (Some day he would just have them privately carted +away to auction!) But if Richard set his heart on a thing he wanted it +so badly, so much more than other people did, that he knew no peace +till he had it. + +Mahony read in his wife's eyes the disapproval she was too wise to +utter. At any other time her silent criticism would have galled him; in +this case, he took shelter behind it. Let her only go on setting him +down for lax and spendthrift, incapable of knowing his own mind. He +would be sorry, indeed, for her to guess how matters really stood with +him. The truth was, he had fallen a prey to utter despondency, was +become so spiritless that it puzzled even himself. He thought he could +trace some of the mischief back to the professional knocks and jars +Ocock's action had brought down on him: to hear one's opinion doubted, +one's skill questioned, was the tyro's portion; he was too old to treat +such insolence with the scorn it deserved. Of course he had lived the +affair down; but the result of it would seem to be a bottomless ENNUI, +a TEDIUM VITAE that had something pathological about it. Under its +influence the homeliest trifles swelled to feats beyond his strength. +There was, for instance, the putting on and off one's clothing: this +infinite boredom of straps and buttons--and all for what? For a day +that would be an exact copy of the one that had gone before, a night as +unrefreshing as the last. Did any one suspect that there were moments +when he quailed before this job, suspect that more than once he had +even reckoned the number of times he would be called on to perform it, +day in, day out, till that garment was put on him that came off no +more; or that he could understand and feel sympathy with those faint +souls--and there were such--who laid hands on themselves rather than go +on doing it: did this get abroad, he would be considered ripe for +Bedlam. + +Physician, heal thyself! He swallowed doses of a tonic preparation, and +put himself on a fatty diet. + +Thereafter he tried to take a philosophic view of his case. He had now, +he told himself, reached an age when such a state of mind gave cause +neither for astonishment nor alarm. How often had it not fallen to him, +in his role of medical adviser, to reassure a patient on this score. +The arrival of middle age brought about a certain lowness of spirits in +even the most robust: along with a more or less marked bodily languor +went an uneasy sense of coming loss: the time was at hand to bid +farewell to much that had hitherto made life agreeable; and for most +this was a bitter pill. Meanwhile, one held a kind of mental +stocktaking. As often as not by the light of a complete +disillusionment. Of the many glorious things one had hoped to do--or to +be--nothing was accomplished: the great realisation, in youth +breathlessly chased but never grasped, was now seen to be a +mist-wraith, which could wear a thousand forms, but invariably turned +to air as one came up with it. In nine instances out of ten there was +nothing to put in its place; and you began to ask yourself in a kind of +horrific amaze: "Can this be all? ... THIS? For this the pother of +growth, the struggles, and the sufferings?" The soul's climacteric, if +you would, from which a mortal came forth dulled to resignation; or +greedy for the few physical pleasures left him; or prone to that tragic +clinging to youth's skirts, which made the later years of many women +and not a few men ridiculous. In each case the motive power was the +same: the haunting fear that one had squeezed life dry; worse still, +that it had not been worth the squeezing. + +Thus his reason. But, like a tongue of flame, his instinct leapt up to +give combat. By the gods, this cap did NOT fit him! Squeezed life try? +... found it not worth while? Why, he had never got within measurable +distance of what he called life, at all! There could be no question of +him resigning himself: deep down in him, he knew, was an enormous +residue of vitality, of untouched mental energy that only waited to be +drawn on. It was like a buried treasure, jealously kept for the event +of his one day catching up with life: not the bare scramble for a +living that here went by that name, but Life with a capital L, the +existence he had once confidently counted on as his--a tourney of +spiritual adventuring, of intellectual excitement, in which the prize +striven for was not money or anything to do with money. Far away, +thousands of miles off, luckier men than he were in the thick of it. +He, of his own free will, had cut himself adrift, and now it was too +late. + +But was it? Had the time irretrievably gone by? The ancient idea of +escape, long dormant, suddenly reawoke in him with a new force. And, +once stirring, it was not to be silenced, but went on sounding like a +ground-tone through all he did. At first he shut his ears to it, to +dally with side issues. For example, he worried the question why the +breaking-point should only now have been reached and not six months, a +year ago. It was quibbling to lay the whole blame on Ocock's shoulders. +The real cause went deeper, was of older growth. And driving his mind +back over the past, he believed he could pin his present loss of grip +to that fatal day on which he learnt that his best friend had betrayed +him. Things like that gave you a crack that would not mend. He had been +rendered suspicious where he had once been credulous; prone to see evil +where no evil was. For, deceived by Purdy, in whom could he trust? Of a +surety not in the pushful set of jobbers and tricksters he was +condemned to live amongst. No discoveries he might make about them +would surprise him.--And once more the old impotent anger with himself +broke forth, that he should ever have let himself take root in such +detestable surroundings. + +Why not shake the dust of the country off his feet?--From this direct +attack he recoiled, casting up his hands as if against the evil eye. +What next? But exclaim as he might, now that the idea had put on words, +it was by no means so simple to fend it off as when it had been a mere +vague humming at the back of his mind. It seized him; swept his brain +bare of other thoughts. He began to look worn. And never more so than +when he imagined himself taking the bull by the horns and asking Mary's +approval of his wild-goose scheme. He could picture her face, when she +heard that he planned throwing up his fine position and decamping on +nothing a year. The vision was a cold douche to his folly. No, no! it +would not do. You could not accustom a woman to ease and luxury and +then, when you felt YOU had had enough and would welcome a return to +Spartan simplicity, to an austere clarity of living, expect her to be +prepared, at the word, to step back into poverty. One was bound ... +bound ... and by just those silken threads which, in premarital days, +had seemed sheerly desirable. He wondered now what it would be like to +stand free as the wind, answerable only to himself. The bare thought of +it filled him as with the rushing of wings. + +Once he had been within an ace of cutting and running. That was in the +early days, soon after his marriage. Trade had petered out; and there +would have been as little to leave behind as to carry with him. But, +even so, circumstances had proved too strong for him: what with Mary's +persuasions and John's intermeddling, his scheme had come to nothing. +And if, with so much in his favour, he had not managed to carry it out, +how in all the world could he hope to now, when every thing conspired +against him. It was, besides, excusable in youth to challenge fortune; +a very different matter for one of his age. + +Of his age! ... the words gave him pause. By their light he saw why he +had knuckled under so meekly, at the time of his first attempt. It was +because then a few years one way or another did not signify; he had +them to spare. Now, each individual year was precious to him; he parted +with it lingeringly, unwillingly. Time had taken to flashing past, too; +Christmas was hardly celebrated before it was again at the door. +Another ten years or so and he would be an old man, and it would in +very truth be too late. The tempter voice--in this case also the voice +of reason--said: now or never! + +But when he came to look the facts in the face his heart failed him +anew, so heavily did the arguments against his taking such a step--and, +true to his race, it was these he began by marshalling--weigh down the +scales. He should have done it, if done it was to be, five ... three +... even a couple of years ago. Each day that dawned added to the +tangle, made the idea seem more preposterous. Local dignities had been +showered on him: he sat on the Committees of the District Hospital and +the Benevolent Asylum; was Honorary Medical Officer to this Society and +that; a trustee of the church; one of the original founders of the +Mechanics' Institute; vice-president of the Botanical Society; and so +on, AD INFINITUM. His practice was second to none; his visiting-book +rarely shewed a blank space; people drove in from miles round to +consult him. In addition, he had an extremely popular wife, a good +house and garden, horses and traps, and a sure yearly income of some +twelve or thirteen hundred. Of what stuff was he made, that he could +lightly contemplate turning his back on prizes such as these? + +Even as he told them off, however, the old sense of hollowness was upon +him again. His life there reminded him of a gaudy drop-scene, let down +before an empty stage; a painted sham, with darkness and vacuity +behind. At bottom, none of these distinctions and successes meant +anything to him; not a scrap of mental pabulum could be got from them: +rather would he have chosen to be poor and a nobody among people whose +thoughts flew to meet his half-way. And there was also another side to +it. Stingy though the years had been of intellectual grist, they had +not scrupled to rob him of many an essential by which he set store. His +old faculty--for good or evil--of swift decision, for instance. It was +lost to him now; as witness his present miserable vacillation. It had +gone off arm-in-arm with his health; physically he was but a ghost of +the man he had once been. But the bitterest grudge he bore the life was +for the shipwreck it had made of his early ideals. He remembered the +pure joy, the lofty sentiments with which he had returned to medicine. +Bah!--there had been no room for any sentimental nonsense of that kind +here. He had long since ceased to follow his profession +disinterestedly; the years had made a hack of him--a skilled hack, of +course--but just a hack. He had had no time for study; all his strength +had gone in keeping his income up to a certain figure; lest the wife +should be less well dressed and equipped than her neighbours; or +patients fight shy of him; or his confreres wag their tongues.--Oh! he +had adapted himself supremely well to the standards of this Australia, +so-called Felix. And he must not complain if, in so doing, he had been +stripped, not only of his rosy dreams, but also of that spiritual force +on which he could once have drawn at will. Like a fool he had believed +it possible to serve mammon with impunity, and for as long as it suited +him. He knew better now. At this moment he was undergoing the +sensations of one who, having taken shelter in what he thinks a light +and flimsy structure, finds that it is built of the solidest stone. +Worse still: that he has been walled up inside. + +And even suppose he COULD pull himself together for the effort +required, how justify his action in the eyes of the world? His motives +would be double-dutch to the hard-headed crew around him; nor would any +go to the trouble of trying to understand. There was John. All John +would see was an elderly and not over-robust man deliberately throwing +away the fruits of year-long toil--and for what? For the privilege of, +in some remote spot, as a stranger and unknown, having his way to make +all over again; of being free to shoulder once more the risks and +hazards the undertaking involved. And little though he cared for John +or any one else's opinion, Mahony could not help feeling a trifle sore, +in advance, at the ridicule of which he might be the object, at the +zanyish figure he was going to be obliged to cut. + +But a fig for what people thought of him! Once away from here he would, +he thanked God, never see any of them again. No, it was Mary who was +the real stumbling-block, the opponent he most feared. Had he been less +attached to her, the thing would have been easier; as it was, he shrank +from hurting her. And hurt and confuse her he must. He knew Mary as +well--nay, better than he knew his own unreckonable self. For Mary was +not a creature of moods, did not change her mental envelope a dozen +times a day. And just his precise knowledge of her told him that he +would never get her to see eye to eye with him. Her clear, serene +outlook was attuned to the plain and the practical; she would discover +a thousand drawbacks to his scheme, but nary a one of the incorporeal +benefits he dreamed of reaping from it. There was his handling of money +for one thing: she had come, he was aware, to regard him as incurably +extravagant; and it would be no easy task to convince her that he could +learn again to fit his expenses to a light purse. She had a woman's +instinctive distrust, too, of leaving the beaten track. Another point +made him still more dubious. Mary's whole heart and happiness were +bound up in this place where she had spent the flower-years of her +life: who knew if she would thrive as well on other soil? He found it +intolerable to think that she might have to pay for his want of +stability.--Yes, reduced to its essentials, it came to mean the pitting +of one soul's welfare against that of another; was a toss-up between +his happiness and hers. One of them would have to yield. Who would +suffer more by doing so--he or she? He believed that a sacrifice on his +part would make the wreck of his life complete. On hers--well, thanks +to her doughty habit of finding good everywhere, there was a chance of +her coming out unscathed. + +Here was his case in a nutshell. + +Still he did not tackle Mary. For sometimes, after all, a disturbed +doubt crept upon him whether it would not be possible to go on as he +was; instead of, as she would drastically word it, cutting his throat +with his own hand. And to be perfectly honest, he believed it would. He +could now afford to pay for help in his work; to buy what books he +needed or fancied; to take holidays while putting in a LOCUM; even to +keep on the LOCUM, at a good salary, while he journeyed overseas to +visit the land of his birth. But at this another side of him--what he +thought of as spirit, in contradistinction to soul--cried out in alarm, +fearful lest it was again to be betrayed. Thus far, though by rights +coequal in the house of the body, it had been rigidly kept down. +Nevertheless it had persisted, like a bright cold little spark at dead +of night: his restlessness, the spiritual malaise that encumbered him +had been its mute form of protest. Did he go on turning a deaf ear to +its warnings, he might do himself irreparable harm. For time was +flying, the sum of his years mounting, shrinking that roomy future to +which he had thus far always postponed what seemed too difficult for +the moment. Now he saw that he dared delay no longer in setting free +the imprisoned elements in him, was he ever to grow to that complete +whole which each mortal aspires to be.--That a change of environment +would work this miracle he did not doubt; a congenial environment was +meat and drink to him, was light and air. Here in this country, he had +remained as utterly alien as any Jew of old who wept by the rivers of +Babylon. And like a half-remembered tune there came floating into his +mind words he had lit on somewhere, or learnt on the +school-bench--Horace, he thought, but, whatever their source, words +that fitted his case to a nicety. COELUM, NON ANIMUM, MUTANT, QUI TRANS +MARE CURRUNT. "Non animum"? Ah! could he but have foreseen +this--foreknown it. If not before he set sail on what was to have been +but a swift adventure, then at least on that fateful day long past +when, foiled by Mary's pleadings and his own inertia, he had let +himself be bound anew. + +Thus the summer dragged by; a summer to try the toughest. Mahony +thought he had never gone through its like for heat and discomfort. The +drought would not break, and on the great squatting-stations round +Ballarat and to the north, the sheep dropped like flies at an early +frost. The forest reservoirs dried up, displaying the red mud of their +bottoms, and a bath became a luxury--or a penance--the scanty water +running thick and red. Then the bush caught fire and burnt for three +days, painting the sky a rusty brown, and making the air hard to +breathe. Of a morning his first act on going into his surgery was to +pick up the thermometer that stood on the table. Sure as fate, though +the clock had not long struck nine, the mercury marked something +between a hundred and a hundred and five degrees. He let it fall with a +nerveless gesture. Since his sunstroke he not only hated, he feared the +sun. But out into it he must, to drive through dust-clouds so opaque +that one could only draw rein till they subsided, meanwhile holloaing +off collisions. Under the close leather hood he sat and stifled; or, +removing his green goggles for the fiftieth time, climbed down to enter +yet another baked wooden house, where he handled prostrate bodies rank +with sweat, or prescribed for pallid or fever-speckled children. Then +home, to toy with the food set before him, his mind already running on +the discomforts of the afternoon.--Two bits of ill-luck came his way +this summer. Old Ocock fell, in dismounting from a vehicle, and +sustained a compound fracture of the femur. Owing to his advanced age +there was for a time fear of malunion of the parts, and this kept +Mahony on the rack. Secondly, a near neighbour, a common little fellow +who kept a jeweller's shop in Bridge Street, actually took the plunge: +sold off one fine day and sailed for home. And this seemed the +unkindest cut of all. + +But the accident that gave the death-blow to his scruples was another. +On the advice of a wealthy publican he was treating, whose judgment he +trusted, Mahony had invested--heavily for him, selling off other stock +to do it--in a company known as the Hodderburn Estate. This was a +government affair and ought to have been beyond reproach. One day, +however, it was found that the official reports of the work done by the +diamond drill-bore were cooked documents; and instantly every one +connected with the mine--directors, managers, engineers--lay under the +suspicion of fraudulent dealings. Shares had risen as high as ten +pounds odd; but when the drive reached the bore and, in place of the +deep gutter-ground the public had been led to expect, hard rock was +found overhead, there was a panic; shares dropped to twenty-five +shillings and did not rally. Mahony was a loser by six hundred pounds, +and got, besides, a moral shaking from which he could not recover. He +sat and bit his little-finger nail to the quick. Was he, he savagely +asked himself, going to linger on until the little he had managed to +save was snatched from him? + +He dashed off a letter to John, asking his brother-in-law to recommend +a reliable broker. And this done, he got up to look for Mary, +determined to come to grips with her at last. + + + + +Chapter XI + +How to begin, how reduce to a few plain words his subtle tangle of +thought and feeling, was the problem. + +He did not find his wife on her usual seat in the arbour. In searching +for her, upstairs and down, he came to a rapid decision. He would lay +chief stress on his poor state of health. + +"I feel I'm killing myself. I can't go on." + +"But Richard dear!" ejaculated Mary, and paused in her sewing, her +needle uplifted, a bead balanced on its tip. Richard had run her to +earth in the spare bedroom, to which at this time she often repaired. +For he objected to the piece of work she had on hand--that of covering +yards of black cashmere with minute jet beads--vowing that she would +ruin her eyesight over it. So, having set her heart on a fashionable +polonaise, she was careful to keep out of his way. + +"I'm not a young man any longer, wife. When one's past forty ..." + +"Poor mother used to say forty-five was a man's prime of life." + +"Not for me. And not here in this God-forsaken hole!" + +"Oh dear me! I do wonder why you have such a down on Ballarat. I'm sure +there must be many worse places in the world to live in", and lowering +her needle, Mary brought the bead to its appointed spot. "Of course you +have a lot to do, I know, and being such a poor sleeper doesn't improve +matters." But she was considering her pattern sideways as she spoke, +thinking more of it than of what she said. Every one had to work hard +out here; compared with some she could name, Richard's job of driving +round in a springy buggy seemed ease itself. "Besides I told you at the +time you were wrong not to take a holiday in winter, when you had the +chance. You need a thorough change every year to set you up. You came +back from the last as fresh as a daisy." + +"The only change that will benefit me is one for good and all," said +Mahony with extreme gloom. He had thrown up the bed-curtain and +stretched himself on the bed, where he lay with his hands clasped under +his neck. + +Tutored by experience, Mary did not contradict him. + +"And it's the kind I've finally made up my mind to take." + +"Richard! How you do run on!" and Mary, still gently incredulous but a +thought wider awake, let her work sink to her lap. "What is the use of +talking like that?" + +"Believe it or not, my dear, as you choose. You'll see--that's all." + +At her further exclamations of doubt and amazement, Mahony's patience +slipped its leash. "Surely to goodness my health comes first ... before +any confounded practice?" + +"Ssh! Baby's asleep.--And don't get cross, Richard. You can hardly +expect me not to be surprised when you spring a thing of this sort on +me. You've never even dropped a hint of it before." + +"Because I knew very well what it would be. You dead against it, of +course!" + +"Now I call that unjust. You've barely let me get a word in edgeways." + +"Oh, I know by heart everything you're going to say. It's nonsense ... +folly ... madness ... and so on: all the phrases you women fish up from +your vocabulary when you want to stave off a change--hinder any +alteration of the STATUS QUO. But I'll tell you this, wife. You'll bury +me here, if I don't get away soon. I'm not much more than skin and bone +as it is. And I confess, if I've got to be buried I'd rather lie +elsewhere--have good English earth atop of me." + +Had Mary been a man, she might have retorted that this was a very +woman's way of shifting ground. She bit her lip and did not answer +immediately. Then: "You know I can't bear to hear you talk like that, +even in fun. Besides, you always say much more than you mean, dear." + +"Very well then, if you prefer it, wait and see! You'll be sorry some +day." + +"Do you mean to tell me, Richard, you're in earnest, when you talk of +selling off your practice and going to England?" + +"I can buy another there, can't I?" + +With these words he leapt to his feet, afire with animation. And while +Mary, now thoroughly uneasy, was folding up her work, he dilated upon +the benefits that would accrue to them from the change. Good-bye to +dust, and sun, and drought, to blistering hot winds and PAPIER MACHE +walls! They would make their new home in some substantial old stone +house that had weathered half a century or more, tangled over with +creepers, folded away in its own privacy as only an English house could +be. In the flower-garden roses would trail over arch and pergola; there +would be a lawn with shaped yews on it; while in the orchard old +apple-trees would flaunt their red abundance above grey, lichened walls. + +("As if there weren't apples enough here!" thought Mary.) + +He got a frog in his throat as he went on to paint in greater detail +for her, who had left it so young, the intimate charm of the home +country--the rich, green, dimpled countryside. And not till now did he +grasp how sorely he had missed it. "Oh, believe me, to talk of 'going +home' is no mere figure of speech, Mary!" In fancy he trod winding +lanes that ran between giant hedges: hedges in tender bud, with dew on +them; or snowed over with white mayflowers; or behung with the fairy +webs and gossamer of early autumn, thick as twine beneath their load of +moisture. He followed white roads that were banked with primroses and +ran headlong down to the sea; he climbed the shoulder of a down on a +spring morning, when the air was alive with larks carolling. But +chiefly it was the greenness that called to him--the greenness of the +greenest country in the world. Viewed from this distance, the homeland +looked to him like one vast meadow. Oh, to tread its grass again!--not +what one knew as grass here, a poor annual, that lasted for a few brief +weeks; but lush meadow-grass, a foot high; or shaven emerald lawns on +which ancient trees spread their shade; or the rank growth in old +orchards, starry with wild flowers, on which fruit-blossoms fluttered +down. He longed, too, for the exquisite finishedness of the mother +country, the soft tints of cloud-veiled northern skies. His eyes ached, +his brows had grown wrinkled from gazing on iron roofs set against the +hard blue overhead; on dirty weatherboards innocent of paint; on +higgledy-piggledy backyards and ramshackle fences; on the straggling +landscape with its untidy trees--all the unrelieved ugliness, in short, +of the colonial scene. + +He stopped only for want of breath. Mary was silent. He waited. Still +she did not speak. + +He fell to earth with a bump, and was angry. "Come ... out with it! I +suppose all this seems to you just the raving of a lunatic?" + +"Oh, Richard, no. But a little ... well, a little unpractical. I never +heard before of any one throwing up a good income because he didn't +like the scenery. It's a step that needs the greatest consideration." + +"Good God! Do you think I haven't considered it?--and from every angle? +There isn't an argument for or against, that I haven't gone over a +thousand and one times." + +"And with never a word to me, Richard?" Mary was hurt; and showed it. +"It really is hardly fair. For this is my home as well as yours.--But +now listen. You're tired out, run down with the heat and that last +attack of dysentery. Take a good holiday--stay away for three months if +you like. Sail over to Hobart Town, or up to Sydney, you who'er so fond +of the water. And when you come back strong and well we'll talk about +all this again. I'm sure by then you'll see things with other eyes." + +"And who's to look after the practice, pray?" + +"Why, a LOCUM TENENS, of course. Or engage an assistant." + +"Aha! you'd agree to that now, would you? I remember how opposed you +were once to the idea." + +"Well, if I have to choose between it and you giving up altogether... +Now, for your own sake, Richard, don't go and do anything rash. If once +you sell off and leave Ballarat, you can never come back. And then, if +you regret it, where will you be? That's why I say don't hurry to +decide. Sleep over it. Or let us consult somebody--John perhaps--" + +"No you don't, madam, no you don't!" cried Richard with a grim dash of +humour. "You had me once ... crippled me ... handcuffed me--you and +your John between you! It shan't happen again." + +"I crippled you? I, Richard! Why, never in my life have I done anything +but what I thought was for your good. I've always put you first." And +Mary's eyes filled with tears. + +"Yes, where it's a question of one's material welfare you haven't your +equal--I admit that. But the other side of me needs coddling too--yes, +and sympathy. But it can whistle for such a thing as far as you're +concerned." + +Mary sighed. "I think you don't realise, dear, how difficult it +sometimes is to understand you ... or to make out what you really do +want," she said slowly. + +Her tone struck at his heart. "Indeed and I do!" he cried contritely. +"I'm a born old grumbler, mavourneen, I know--contrariness in person! +But in this case ... come, love, do try to grasp what I'm after; it +means so much to me." And he held out his hand to her, to beseech her. + +Unhesitatingly she laid hers in it. "I am trying, Richard, though you +mayn't believe it. I always do. And even if I sometimes can't manage +it--well, you know, dear, you generally get your own way in the end. +Think of the house. I'm still not clear why you altered it. I liked it +much better as it was. But I didn't make any fuss, did I?--though I +should have, if I'd thought we were only to occupy it for a single year +after. --Still, that was a trifle compared with what you want to do +now. Though I lived to a hundred I should never be able to approve of +this. And you don't know how hard it is to consent to a thing one +disapproves of. You couldn't do it yourself. Oh, what WAS the use, +Richard, of toiling as you have, if now, just when you can afford to +charge higher fees and the practice is beginning to bring in money--" + +Mahony let her hand drop, even giving it a slight push from him, and +turned to pace the floor anew. "Oh, money, money, money! I'm sick of +the very sound of the word. But you talk as if nothing else mattered. +Can't you for once, wife, see through the letter of the thing to the +spirit behind? I admit the practice HAS brought in a tidy income of +late; but as for the rest of the splendours, they exist, my dear, only +in your imagination. If you ask me, I say I lead a dog's life--why, +even a navvy works only for a fixed number of hours per diem! My days +have neither beginning nor end. Look at yesterday! Out in the blazing +sun from morning till night--I didn't get back from the second round +till nine. At ten a confinement that keeps me up till three. From three +till dawn I toss and turn, far too weary to sleep. By the time six +o'clock struck--you of course were slumbering sweetly--I was in hell +with tic. At seven I could stand it no longer and got up for the +chloroform bottle: an hour's rest at any price--else how face the crowd +in the waiting-room? And you call that splendour?--luxurious ease? If +so, my dear, words have not the same meaning any more for you and me." + +Mary did not point out that she had said nothing of the kind, or that +he had set up an extreme case as typical. She tightened her lips; her +big eyes were very solemn. + +"And it's not the work alone," Richard was declaring, "it's the place, +wife--the people. I'm done with 'em, Mary--utterly done! Upon my word, +if I thought I had to go on living among them even for another +twelvemonth ..." + +"But PEOPLE are the same all the world over!" The protest broke from +her in spite of herself. + +"No, by God, they're not!" And here Richard launched out into a +diatribe against his fellow-colonists: "This sordid riff-raff! These +hard, mean, grasping money-grubbers!" that made Mary stand aghast. What +could be the matter with him? What was he thinking of, he who was +ordinarily so generous? Had he forgotten the many kindnesses shown him, +the warm gratitude of his patients, people's sympathy, at the time of +his illness? But he went on: "My demands are most modest. All I ask is +to live among human beings with whom I have half an idea in common--men +who sometimes raise their noses from the ground, instead of eternally +scheming how to line their pockets, reckoning human progress solely in +terms of l.s.d. No, I've sacrificed enough of my life to this country. +I mean to have the rest for myself. And there's another thing, my +dear--another bad habit this precious place breeds in us. It begins by +making us indifferent to those who belong to us but are out of our +sight, and ends by cutting our closest ties. I don't mean by distance +alone. I have an old mother still living, Mary, whose chief prayer is +that she may see me once again before she dies. I was her +last-born--the child her arms kept the shape of. What am I to her now? +... what does she know of me, of the hard, tired, middle-aged man I +have become? And you are in much the same box, my dear; unless you've +forgotten by now that you ever had a mother." + +Mary was scandalised. "Forget one's mother? ... Richard! I think you're +trying what dreadful things you can find to say ... when I write home +every three months!" And provoked by this fresh piece of unreason she +opened fire in earnest, in defence of what she believed to be their +true welfare. Richard listened to her without interrupting; even seemed +to grant the truth of what she said. But none the less, even as she +pleaded with him, a numbing sense of futility crept over her. She +stuttered, halted, and finally fell silent. Her words were like so many +lassos thrown after his vagrant soul; and this was out of reach. It had +sniffed freedom--it WAS free; ran wild already on the boundless plains +of liberty. + +After he had gone from the room she sat with idle hands. She was all in +a daze. Richard was about to commit an out-and-out folly, and she was +powerless to hinder it. If only she had had some one she could have +talked things over with, taken advice of! But no--it went against the +grain in her to discuss her husband's actions with a third person. +Purdy had been the sole exception, and Purdy had become impossible. + +Looking back, she marvelled at her own dullness in not fore-seeing that +something like this might happen. What more natural than that the +multitude of little whims and fads Richard had indulged should +culminate in a big whim of this kind? But the acknowledgment caused her +fresh anxiety. She had watched him tire, like a fickle child, of first +one thing, then another; was it likely that he would now suddenly prove +more stable? She did not think so. For she attributed his present mood +of pettish aversion wholly to the fact of his being run down in health. +It was quite true: he had not been himself of late. But, here again, he +was so fanciful that you never knew how literally to take his ailments: +half the time she believed he just imagined their existence; and the +long holiday she had urged on him would have been enough to sweep the +cobwebs from his brain. Oh, if only he could have held on in patience! +Four or five years hence, at most, he might have considered retiring +from general practice. She almost wept as she remembered how they had +once planned to live for that day. Now it was all to end in smoke. + +Then her mind reverted to herself and to what the break would mean to +her; and her little world rocked to its foundations. For no clear call +went out to Mary from her native land. She docilely said "home" with +the rest, and kept her family ties intact; but she had never expected +to go back, except on a flying visit. She thought of England rather +vaguely as a country where it was always raining, and where--according +to John--an assemblage of old fogies, known as the House of Commons, +persistently intermeddled in the affairs of the colony. For more than +half her life--and the half that truly counted--Australia had been her +home. + +Her home! In fancy she made a round of the house, viewing each cosy +room, lingering fondly over the contents of cupboards and presses, +recollecting how she had added this piece of furniture for convenience' +sake, that for ornament, till the whole was as perfect as she knew how +to make it. Now, everything she loved and valued--the piano, the +wax-candle chandelier, the gilt cornices, the dining-room +horsehair--would fall under the auctioneer's hammer, go to deck out the +houses of other people. Richard said she could buy better and handsomer +things in England; but Mary allowed herself no illusions on this score. +Where was the money to come from? She had learnt by personal experience +what slow work building up a practice was. It would be years and years +before they could hope for another such home. And sore and sorry as SHE +might feel at having to relinquish her pretty things, in Richard's case +it would mean a good deal more than that. To him the loss of them would +be a real misfortune, so used had he grown to luxury and comfort, so +strongly did the need of it run in his blood. + +Worse still was the prospect of parting from relatives and friends. The +tears came at this, freely. John's children!--who would watch over them +when she was gone? How could she, from so far away, keep the promise +she had made to poor Jinny on her death-bed? She would have to give up +the baby of which she had grown so fond--give it back into Zara's +unmotherly hands. And never again of a Saturday would she fetch poor +little long-legged Trotty from school. She must say good-bye to one and +to all--to John, and Zara, and Jerry--and would know no more, at close +quarters, how they fared. When Jerry married there would be no one to +see to it that he chose the right girl. Then Ned and Polly--poor souls, +poor souls! What with the rapid increase of their family and Ned's +unsteadiness--he could not keep any job long because of it--they only +just contrived to make ends meet. How they would do it when she was not +there to lend a helping hand, she could not imagine. And outside her +brothers and sisters there was good Mrs. Devine. Mary had engaged to +guide her friend's tottery steps on the slippery path of Melbourne +society, did Mr. Devine enter the ministry. And poor little Agnes with +her terrible weakness... and Amelia and her sickly babes ... and Tilly, +dear, good, warm-hearted Tilly! Never again would the pair of them +enjoy one of their jolly laughs; or cook for a picnic; or drive out to +a mushroom hunt. No, the children would grow up anyhow; her brothers +forget her in carving out their own lives; her friends find other +friends. + +For some time, however, she kept her own counsel. But when she had +tried by hook and by crook to bring Richard to reason, and failed; when +she saw that he was actually beginning, on the quiet, to make ready for +departure, and that the day was coming on which every one would have to +know: then she threw off her reserve. She was spending the afternoon +with Tilly. They sat on the verandah together, John's child, +black-eyed, fat, self-willed, playing, after the manner of two short +years, at their feet. At the news that was broken to her Tilly began by +laughing immoderately, believing that Mary was "taking a rise out of +her." But having studied her friend's face she let her work fall, +slowly opened mouth and eyes, and was at first unequal to uttering a +word. + +Thereafter she bombarded Mary with questions. + +"Wants to leave Ballarat? To go home to England?" she echoed, with an +emphasis such as Tilly alone could lay. "Well! of all the ... What for? +What on earth for? 'As somebody gone and left 'im a fortune? Or 'as 'e +been appointed pillmonger-in-ordinary to the Queen 'erself? What is it, +Mary? What's up?" + +What indeed! This was the question Mary dreaded, and one that would +leap to every tongue: why was he going? She sat on the horns of a +dilemma. It was not in her to wound people's feelings by blurting out +the truth--this would also put Richard in a bad light--and, did she +give no reason at all, many would think he had taken leave of his +senses. Weakly, in a very un-Maryish fashion, she mumbled that his +health was not what it should be, and he had got it into his head that +for this the climate of the colony was to blame. Nothing would do him +but to return to England. + +"I never! No, never in my born days did I hear tell of such a thing!" +and Tilly, exploding, brought her closed fist heavily down on her knee. +"Mary! ... for a mere maggot like that, to chuck up a practice such as +'e's got. Upon my word, my dear, it looks as if 'e was touched +'ere,"--and she significantly tapped her forehead. "Ha! Now I +understand. You know I've seen quite well, love, you've been looking a +bit down in the mouth of late. And so 'as pa noticed it, too. After +you'd gone the other day, 'e said to me: 'Looks reflexive-like does the +little lady nowadays; as if she'd got something on 'er mind.' And I to +him: 'Pooh! Isn't it enough that she's got to put up with the cranks +and crotchets of one o' YOUR sect?'--Oh Mary, my dear, there's many a +true word said in jest. Though little did I think what the crotchet +would be." And slowly the rims of Tilly's eyes and the tip of her nose +reddened and swelled. + +"No, I can't picture it, Mary--what it'ull be like 'ere without you," +she said; and pulling out her handkerchief blew snort after snort, +which was Tilly's way nowadays of having a good cry. "There, there, +Baby, Auntie's only got the sniffles.--For just think of it, Mary: +except that first year or so after you were married, we've been +together, you and me, pretty much ever since you came to us that time +at the 'otel--a little black midget of a thing in short frocks. I can +still remember 'ow Jinn and I laughed at the idea of you teaching us; +and 'ow poor ma said to wait and make sure we weren't laughing on the +wrong side of our mouths. And ma was right as usual. For if ever a +clever little kid trod the earth, it was you." + +Mary pooh-poohed the cleverness. "I knew very little more than you +yourselves. No, it was you who were all so kind to me. I had been +feeling so lonely--as if nobody wanted me--and I shall never forget how +mother put her arms round me and cuddled me, and how safe and +comfortable I felt. It was always just like home there to me." + +"And why not, I'd like to know!--Look 'ere, Mary, I'm going to ask you +something, plump and plain. 'Ave you really been happy in your +marriage, my dear, or 'ave you not? You're such a loyal little soul, I +know you'd never show it if you weren't; and sometimes I've 'ad my +doubts about you, Mary. For you and the doctor are just as different as +chalk and cheese." + +"Of course I have--as happy as the day's long!" cried Mary, sensitive +as ever to a reflection on her husband. "You mustn't think anything +like that, Tilly. I couldn't imagine myself married to anyone but +Richard." + +"Then that only makes it harder for you now, poor thing, pulled two +ways like, as you are," said Tilly, and trumpeted afresh. "All the +same, there isn't anything I'd stick at, Mary, to keep you here. Don't +be offended, my dear, but it doesn't matter half so much about the +doctor going as you. There's none cleverer than 'im, of course, in 'is +own line. But 'e's never fitted in properly here--I don't want to +exactly say 'e thinks 'imself too good for us; but there is something, +Mary love, and I'm not the only one who's felt it. I've known people go +on like anything about 'im behind 'is back: nothing would induce them +to have 'im and 'is haughty airs inside their doors again, etcetera." + +Mary flushed. "Yes, I know, people do sometimes judge Richard very +unkindly. For at heart he's the most modest of men. It's only his +manner. And he can't help that, can he?" + +"There are those who say a doctor ought to be able to, my dear.--But +never mind him. Oh, it's you I feel for, Mary, being dragged off like +this. Can't you DO anything, dear? Put your foot down?" + +Mary shook her head. "It's no use. Richard is so ... well, so queer in +some ways, Tilly. Besides, you know, I don't think it would be right of +me to really pit my will against his." + +"Poor little you!--Oh! men are queer fish, Mary, aren't they? Not that +I can complain; I drew a prize in the lucky-bag when I took that old +Jawkins in there. But when I look round me, or think back, and see what +we women put up with! There was poor old ma; she 'ad to be man for +both. And Jinn, Mary, who didn't dare to call 'er soul 'er own. And +milady Agnes is travelling the selfsame road--why, she 'as to cock 'er +eye at Henry nowadays before she trusts 'erself to say whether it's +beef or mutton she's eating! And now 'ere's you, love, carted off with +never a with-your-leave or by-your-leave, just because the doctor's +tired of it and thinks 'e'd like a change. There's no question of +whether you're tired or not--oh, my, no!" + +"But he has to earn the money, Tilly. It isn't quite fair to put it +that way," protested her friend. + +"Well! I don't know, Mary, I'm sure," and Tilly's plump person rose and +sank in a prodigious sigh. "But if I was 'is wife 'e wouldn't get off +so easy--I know that! It makes me just boil." + +Mary answered with a rueful smile. She could never be angry with +Richard in cold blood, or for long together. + +As time went on, though, and the break-up of her home began--by the +auctioneer's man appearing to paw over and appraise the furniture--a +certain dull resentment did sometimes come uppermost. Under its sway +she had forcibly to remind herself what a good husband Richard had +always been; had to tell off his qualities one by one, instead of +taking them as hitherto for granted. No, her quarrel, she began to see, +was not so much with him as with the Powers above. Why should HER +husband alone not be as robust and hardy as all the other husbands in +the place? None of THEIR healths threatened to fail, nor did any of +them find the conditions of the life intolerable. That was another +shabby trick Fate had played Richard in not endowing him with worldly +wisdom, and a healthy itch to succeed. Instead of that, he had been +blessed with ideas and impulses that stood directly in his way.--And it +was here that Mary bore more than one of her private ambitions for him +to its grave. A new expression came into her eyes, too--an unsure, +baffled look. Life was not, after all, going to be the simple, +straightforward affair she had believed. Thus far, save for the one +unhappy business with Purdy, wrongs and complications had passed her +by. Now she saw that no more than anyone else could she hope to escape +them. + +Out of this frame of mind she wrote a long, confidential letter to +John: John must not be left in ignorance of what hung over her; it was +also a relief to unbosom herself to one of her own family. And John was +good enough to travel up expressly to talk things over with her, and, +as he put it, to "call Richard to order." Like every one else he showed +the whites of his eyes at the latter's flimsy reasons for seeking a +change. But when, in spite of her warning, he bearded his +brother-in-law with a jocose and hearty: "Come, come, my dear Mahony! +what's all this? You're actually thinking of giving us the slip?" +Richard took his interference so badly, became so agitated over the +head of the harmless question that John's airy remonstrance died in his +throat. + +"Mad as a March hare!" was his private verdict, as he shook down his +ruffled plumes. To Mary he said ponderously: "Well, upon my soul, my +dear girl, I don't know--I am frankly at a loss what to say. Measured +by every practical standard, the step he contemplates is little short +of suicidal. I fear he will live to regret it." + +And Mary, who had not expected anything from John's intervention, and +also knew the grounds for Richard's heat--Mary now resigned herself, +with the best grace she could muster, to the inevitable. + + + + +Chapter XII + +House and practice sold for a good round sum; the brass plates were +removed from gate and door, leaving dirty squares flanked by +screw-holes; carpets came up and curtains down; and, like rats from a +doomed ship, men and women servants fled to other situations. One fine +day the auctioneer's bell was rung through the main streets of the +town; and both on this and the next, when the red flag flew in front of +the house, a troop of intending purchasers, together with an even +larger number of the merely curious, streamed in at the gate and +overran the premises. At noon the auctioneer mounted his perch, +gathered the crowd round him, and soon had the sale in full swing, +catching head-bobs, or wheedling and insisting with, when persuasion +could do no more, his monotonous parrot-cry of: "Going... going ... +gone!" + +It would have been in bad taste for either husband or wife to be +visible while the auction was in progress; and, the night before, Mary +and the child had moved to Tilly's, where they would stay for the rest +of the time. But Mahony was still hard at work. The job of winding up +and getting in the money owed him was no light one. For the report had +somehow got abroad that he was retiring from practice because he had +made his fortune; and only too many people took this as a tacit +permission to leave their bills unpaid. + +He had locked himself and his account-books into a small back room, +where stood the few articles they had picked out to carry with them: +Mary's sewing-table, his first gift to her after marriage; their modest +stock of silver; his medical library. But he had been forced to lower +the blind, to hinder impertinent noses flattening themselves against +the window, and thus could scarcely see to put pen to paper; while the +auctioneer's grating voice was a constant source of distraction--not to +mention the rude comments made by the crowd on house and furniture, the +ceaseless trying of the handle of the locked door. + +When it came to the point, this tearing up of one's roots was a +murderous business--nothing for a man of his temperament. Mary was a +good deal better able to stand it than he. Violently as she had opposed +the move in the beginning, she was now, dear soul, putting a cheery +face on it. But then Mary belonged to that happy class of mortals who +could set up their Lares and Penates inside any four walls. Whereas he +was a very slave to associations. Did she regret parting with a pretty +table and a comfortable chair, it was soley because of the prettiness +and convenience: as long as she could replace them by other articles of +the same kind, she was content. But to him each familiar object was +bound by a thousand memories. And it was the loss of these which could +never be replaced that cut him to the quick. + +Meanwhile this was the kind of thing he had to listen to. + +"'Ere now, ladies and gents, we 'ave a very fine pier glass--a very +chaste and tasty pier glass indeed--a red addition to any lady's +drawin'room.--Mrs. Rupp? Do I understand you aright, Mrs. Rupp? Mrs. +Rupp offers twelve bob for this very 'andsome article. Twelve bob ... +going twelve.... Fifteen? Thank you, Mrs. Bromby! Going fifteen ... +going--going--Eighteen? Right you are, my dear!" and so on. + +It had a history had that pier glass; its purchase dated from a time in +their lives when they had been forced to turn each shilling in the +palm. Mary had espied it one day in Plaistows' Stores, and had set her +heart on buying it. How she had schemed to scrape the money +together!--saving so much on a new gown, so much on bonnet and mantle. +He remembered, as if it were yesterday, the morning on which she had +burst in, eyes and cheeks aglow, to tell him that she had managed it at +last, and how they had gone off arm in arm to secure the prize. Yes, +for all their poverty, those had been happy days. Little extravagances +such as this, or the trifling gifts they had contrived to make each +other had given far more pleasure than the costlier presents of later +years. + +"The next article I draw your attention to is a sofer," went on the +voice, sounding suddenly closer; and with a great trampling and +shuffling the crowd trooped after it to the adjoining room. "And a very +easy and comfortable piece o' furniture it is, too. A bit shabby and +worn 'ere and there, but not any the worse of that. You don't need to +worry if the kids play puff-puffs on it; and it fits the shape o' the +body all the better.--Any one like to try it? Jest the very thing for a +tired gent 'ome from biz, or 'andy to pop your lady on when she +faints--as the best of ladies will! Any h'offers? Mr. de la +Plastrier"--he said "Deelay plastreer"--"a guinea? Thank you, mister. +One guinea! Going a guinea!--Now, COME on, ladies and gen'elmen! D'ye +think I've got a notion to make you a present of it? What's that? +Two-and-twenty? Gawd! Is this a tiddlin' match?" + +How proud he had been of that sofa! In his first surgery he had had +nowhere to lay an aching head. Well worn? Small wonder! He would like +to know how many hundreds of times he had flung himself down on it, +utterly played out. He had been used to lie there of an evening, too, +when Mary came in to chat about household affairs, or report on her +day's doings. And he remembered another time, when he had spent the +last hours of a distracted night on it ... and how, between sleeping +and waking, he had strained his ears for footsteps that never came. + +The sofa was knocked down to his butcher for a couple of pounds, and +the crying--or decrying--of his bookcases began. He could stand no more +of it. Sweeping his papers into a bag, he guiltily unlocked the door +and stole out by way of kitchen and back gate. + +But once outside he did not know where to go or what to do. Leaving the +town behind him he made for the Lake, and roved aimlessly and +disconsolately about, choosing sheltered paths and remote roads where +he would be unlikely to run the gauntlet of acquaintances. For he +shrank from recognition on this particular day, when all his domestic +privacies were being bared to the public view. But altogether of late +he had fought shy of meeting people. Their hard, matter-of-fact faces +showed him only too plainly what they thought of him. At first he had +been fool enough to scan them eagerly, in the hope of finding one +saving touch of sympathy or comprehension. But he might as well have +looked for grief in the eyes of an undertaker's mute. And so he had +shrunk back into himself, wearing his stiffest air as a shield and +leaving it to Mary to parry colonial inquisitiveness. + +When he reckoned that he had allowed time enough for the disposal of +the last pots and pans, he rose and made his way--well, the word "home" +was by now become a mere figure of speech. He entered a scene of the +wildest confusion. The actual sale was over, but the work of stripping +the house only begun, and successful bidders were dragging off their +spoils. His glass-fronted bookcase had been got as far as the +surgery-door. There it had stuck fast; and an angry altercation was +going on, how best to set it free. A woman passed him bearing Mary's +girandoles; another had the dining-room clock under her arm; a third +trailed a whatnot after her. To the palings of the fence several carts +and buggies had been hitched, and the horses were eating down his +neatly clipped hedge--it was all he could do not to rush out and call +their owners to account. The level sunrays flooded the rooms, showing +up hitherto unnoticed smudges and scratches on the wall-papers; showing +the prints of hundreds of dusty feet on the carpetless floors. Voices +echoed in hollow fashion through the naked rooms; men shouted and spat +as they tugged heavy articles along the hall, or bumped them down the +stairs. It was pandemonium. The death of a loved human being could not, +he thought, have been more painful to witness. Thus a home went to +pieces; thus was a page of one's life turned.--He hastened away to +rejoin Mary. + +There followed a week of Mrs. Tilly's somewhat stifling hospitality, +when one was forced three times a day to over-eat oneself for fear of +giving offence; followed formal presentations of silver and plate from +Masonic Lodge and District Hospital, as well as a couple of public +testimonials got up by his medical brethren. But at length all was +over: the last visit had been paid and received, the last evening party +in their honour sat through; and Mahony breathed again. He had felt +stiff and unnatural under this overdose of demonstrativeness. Now--as +always on sighting relief from a state of things that irked him--he +underwent a sudden change, turned hearty and spontaneous, thus +innocently succeeding in leaving a good impression behind him. He kept +his temper, too, in all the fuss and ado of departure: the running to +and fro after missing articles, the sitting on the lids of overflowing +trunks, the strapping of carpet-bags, affixing of labels. Their luggage +hoisted into a spring-cart, they themselves took their seats in the +buggy and were driven to the railway station; and to himself Mahony +murmured an all's-well--that-ends-well. On alighting, however, he found +that his greatcoat had been forgotten. He had to re-seat himself in the +buggy and gallop back to the house, arriving at the station only just +in time to leap into the train. + +"A close shave that!" he ejaculated as he sank on the cushions and +wiped his face. "And in more senses than one, my dear. In tearing round +a corner we nearly had a nasty spill. Had I pitched out and broken my +neck, this hole would have got my bones after all.--Not that I was +sorry to miss that cock-and-hen-show, Mary. It was really too much of a +good thing altogether." + +For a large and noisy crowd had gathered round the door of the carriage +to wish the travellers god-speed, among them people to whom Mahony +could not even put a name, whose very existence he had forgotten. And +it had fairly snowed last gifts and keepsakes. Drying her eyes, Mary +now set to collecting and arranging these. "Just fancy so many turning +up, dear. The railway people must have wondered what was the +matter.--Oh, by the way, did you notice--I don't think you did, you +were in such a rush--who I was speaking to as you ran up? It was Jim, +Old Jim, but so changed I hardly knew him. As spruce as could be, in a +black coat and a belltopper. He's married again, he told me, and has +one of the best-paying hotels in Smythesdale. Yes, and he was at the +sale, too--he came over specially for it--to buy the piano." + +"He did, confound him!" cried Mahony hotly. + +"Oh, you can't look at it that way, Richard. As long as he has the +money to pay for it. Fancy, he told me had always admired the 'tune' of +it so much, when I played and sang. My dear little piano!" + +"You shall have another and a better one, I promise you, old +girl--don't fret. Well, that slice of our life's over and done with," +he added, and laid his hand on hers. "But we'll hold together, won't +we, wife, whatever happens?" + +They had passed Black Hill and its multicoloured clay and gravel heaps, +and the train was puffing uphill. The last scattered huts and +weatherboards fell behind, the worked-out holes grew fewer, wooded +rises appeared. Gradually, too, the white roads round Mount Buninyong +came into view, and the trees became denser. And having climbed the +shoulder, they began to fly smoothly and rapidly down the other side. + +Mahony bent forward in his seat. "There goes the last of old +Warrenheip. Thank the Lord, I shall never set eyes on it again. Upon my +word, I believe I came to think that hill the most tiresome feature of +the place. Whatever street one turned into, up it bobbed at the foot. +Like a peep-show ... or a bad dream ... or a prison wall." + +In Melbourne they were the guests of John--Mahony had reluctantly +resigned himself to being beholden to Mary's relatives and Mary's +friends to the end of the chapter. At best, living in other people's +houses was for him more of a punishment than a pleasure; but for sheer +discomfort this stay capped the climax. Under Zara's incompetent rule +John's home had degenerated into a lawless and slovenly abode: the +meals were unpalatable, the servants pert and lazy, while the children +ran wild--you could hardly hear yourself speak for the racket. Whenever +possible, Mahony fled the house. He lunched in town, looked up his +handful of acquaintances, bought necessaries--and unnecessaries--for +the voyage. He also hired a boat and had himself rowed out to the ship, +where he clambered on board amid the mess of scouring and painting, and +made himself known to the chief mate. Or he sat on the pier and gazed +at the vessel lying straining at her anchor, while quick rain-squalls +swept up and blotted out the Bay. + +Of Mary he caught but passing glimpses; her family seemed determined to +make unblushing use of her as long as she was within reach. A couple of +days prior to their arrival, John and Zara had quarrelled violently; +and for the dozenth time Zara had packed her trunks and departed for +one of those miraculous situations, the doors of which always stood +open to her. + +John was for Mary going after her and forcing her to admit the error of +her ways. Mary held it wiser to let well alone. + +"DO be guided by me this time, John," she urged, when she had heard her +brother out: "You and Zara will never hit it off, however often you +try." + +But the belief was ingrained in John that the most suitable head for +his establishment was one of his own blood. He answered indignantly. +"And why not pray, may I ask? Who IS to hit it off, as you put it, if +not two of a family?" + +"Oh, John... "--Mary felt quite apologetic for her brother. "Clever as +Zara is, she's not at all fitted for a post of this kind. She's no hand +with the servants, and children don't seem to take to her--young +children, I mean." + +"Not fitted? Bah!" said John. "Every woman is fitted by nature to rear +children and manage a house." + +"They should be, I know," yielded Mary in conciliatory fashion. "But +with Zara it doesn't seem to be the case." + +"Then she ought to be ashamed of herself, my dear Mary--ashamed of +herself--and that's all about it!" + +Zara wept into a dainty handkerchief and was delivered of a rigmarole +of complaints against her brother, the servants, the children. +According to her, the last were naturally perverse, and John indulged +them so shockingly that she had been powerless to carry out reforms. +Did she punish them, he cancelled the punishments; if she left their +naughtiness unchecked, he accused her of indifference. Then her +housekeeping had not suited him: he reproached her with extravagance, +with mismanagement, even with lining her own purse. "While the truth +is, John is mean as dirt! I had literally to drag each penny out of +him." + +"But what ever induced you to undertake it again, Zara?" + +"Yes, what indeed!" echoed Zara bitterly. "However, once bitten, Mary, +twice shy. NEVER again!" + +But remembering the bites Zara had already received, Mary was silent. + +Even Zara's amateurish hand thus finally withdrawn, it became Mary's +task to find some worthy and capable person to act as mistress. Taking +her obligations seriously, she devoted her last days in Australia to +conning and penning advertisements, and interviewing applicants. + +"Now no one too attractive, if you please, Mrs. Mahony!--if you don't +want him to fall a victim," teased Richard. "Remember our good John's +inflammability. He's a very Leyden jar again at present." + +"No, indeed I don't," said Mary with emphasis. "But the children are +the first consideration. Oh, dear! it does seem a shame that Tilly +shouldn't have them to look after. And it would relieve John of so much +responsibility. As it is, he's even asked me to make it plain to Tilly +that he wishes Trotty to spend her holidays at school." + +The forsaking of the poor little motherless flock cut Mary to the +heart. Trotty had dung to her, inconsolable. "Oh, Auntie, TAKE me with +you! Oh, what shall I do without you?" + +"It's not possible, darling. Your papa would never agree. But I tell +you what, Trotty: you must be a good girl and make haste and learn all +you can. For soon, I'm sure, he'll want you to come and be his little +housekeeper, and look after the other children." + +Sounded on this subject, however, John said dryly: "Emma's influence +would be undesirable for the little ones." His prejudice in favour of +his second wife's children was an eternal riddle to his sister. He +dandled even the youngest, whom he had not seen since its birth, with +visible pleasure. + +"It must be the black eyes," said Mary to herself; and shook her head +at men's irrationality. For Jinny's offspring had none of the grace and +beauty that marked the two elder children. + +And now the last night had come; and they were gathered, a family +party, round John's mahogany. The cloth had been removed; nuts and port +were passing. As it was a unique occasion the ladies had been excused +from withdrawing, and the gentlemen left their cigars unlighted. Mary's +eyes roved fondly from one face to another. There was Tilly, come over +from her hotel--("Nothing would induce me to spend a night under his +roof, Mary")--Tilly sat hugging one of the children, who had run in for +the almonds and raisins of dessert. "What a mother lost in her!" sighed +Mary once more. There was Zara, so far reconciled to her brother as to +consent to be present; but only speaking at him, not to him. And dear +Jerry, eager and alert, taking so intelligent a share in what was said. +Poor Ned alone was wanting, neither Richard nor John having offered to +pay his fare to town. Young Johnny's seat was vacant, too, for the boy +had vanished directly dinner was over. + +In the harmony of the evening there was just one jarring note for Mary; +and at moments she grew very thoughtful. For the first time Mrs. Kelly, +the motherly widow on whom her choice had fallen, sat opposite John at +the head of the table; and already Mary was the prey of a nagging +doubt. For this person had doffed the neat mourning-garb she had worn +when being engaged, and come forth in a cap trimmed with cherry +coloured ribbons. Not only this, she smiled in sugary fashion and far +too readily; while the extreme humility with which she deferred to +John's opinion, and hung on his lips, made another bad impression on +Mary. Nor was she alone in her observations. After a particularly +glaring example of the widow's complaisance, Tilly looked across and +shut one eye, in an unmistakable wink. + +Meanwhile the men's talk had gradually petered out: there came long +pauses in which they twiddled and twirled their wine-glasses, unable to +think of anything to say. At heart, both John and Mahony hailed with a +certain relief the coming break. "After all I dare say such a queer +faddy fellow IS out of his element here. He'll go down better over +there," was John's mental verdict. Mahony's, a characteristic: "Thank +God, I shall not have to put up much longer with his confounded +self-importance, or suffer under his matrimonial muddles!" + +When at a question from Mary John began animatedly to discuss the +tuition of the younger children, Mahony seized the chance to slip away. +He would not be missed. He never was--here or anywhere. + +On the verandah a dark form stirred and made a hasty movement. It was +the boy Johnny--now grown tall as Mahony himself--and, to judge from +the smell, what he tried to smuggle into his pocket was a briar. + +"Oh well, yes, I'm smoking," he said sullenly, after a feeble attempt +at evasion. "Go in and blab on me, if you feel you must, Uncle Richard." + +"Nonsense. But telling fibs about a thing does no good." + +"Oh yes, it does; it saves a hiding," retorted the boy. And added with +a youthful vehemence: "I'm hanged if I let the governor take a stick to +me nowadays! I'm turned sixteen; and if he dares to touch me--" + +"Come, come. You know, you've been something of a disappointment to +your father, Johnny--that's the root of the trouble." + +"Glad if I have! He hates me anyway. He never cared for my mother's +children," answered Johnny with a quaint dignity. "I think he couldn't +have cared for her either." + +"There you're wrong. He was devoted to her. Her death nearly broke his +heart.--She was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, my +boy." + +"Was she?" said Johnny civilly, but with meagre interest. This long +dead mother had bequeathed him not even a memory of herself--was as +unreal to him as a dream at second hand. From the chilly contemplation +of her he turned back impatiently to his own affairs, which were +burning, insistent. And scenting a vague sympathy in this stranger +uncle who, like himself, had drifted out from the intimacy of the +candle-lit room, he made a clean breast of his troubles. + +"I can't stand the life here, Uncle Richard, and I'm not going to--not +if father cuts me off with a shilling! I mean to see the world. THIS +isn't the world--this dead-and-alive old country! ... though it's got +to seem like it to the governor, he's been here so long. And HE cleared +out from his before he was even as old as I am. Of course there isn't +another blessed old Australia for me to decamp to; he might be a bit +sweeter about it, if there was. But America's good enough for me, and +I'm off there--yes, even if I have to work my passage out!" + +Early next morning, fully equipped for their journey, the Mahonys stood +on the William's Town pier, the centre of the usual crowd of relatives +and friends. This had been further swelled by the advent of Mrs. +Devine, who came panting up followed by her husband, and by Agnes Ocock +and Amelia Grindle, who had contrived to reach Melbourne the previous +evening. Even John's children were tacked on, clad in their Sunday +best. Everybody talked at once and laughed or wept; while the children +played hide-and-seek round the ladies' crinolines. Strange eyes were +bent on their party, strange ears cocked in their direction; and yet +once again Mahony's dislike to a commotion in public choked off his +gratitude towards these good and kindly people. But his star was +rising: tears and farewells and vows of constancy had to be cut short, +a jaunt planned by the whole company to the ship itself abandoned; for +a favourable wind had sprung up and the captain was impatient to weigh +anchor. And so the very last kisses and handclasps exchanged, the +travellers climbed down into a boat already deep in the water with +other cuddy-passengers and their luggage, and were rowed out to where +lay that good clipper-ship, the RED JACKET. Sitting side by side +husband and wife watched, with feelings that had little in common, the +receding quay, Mary fluttering her damp handkerchief till the separate +figures had merged in one dark mass, and even Tilly, planted in front, +her handkerchief tied flagwise to the top of Jerry's cane, could no +longer be distinguished from the rest. + +Mahony's foot met the ribbed teak of the deck with the liveliest +satisfaction; his nostrils drank in the smell of tarred ropes and oiled +brass. Having escorted Mary below, seen to the stowing away of their +belongings and changed his town clothes for a set of comfortable baggy +garments, he returned to the deck, where he passed the greater part of +the day tirelessly pacing. They made good headway, and soon the ports +and towns at the water's edge were become mere whitey smudges. The +hills in the background lasted longer. But first the Macedon group +faded from sight; then the Dandenong Ranges, grown bluer and bluer, +were also lost in the sky. The vessel crept round the outside of the +great Bay, to clear shoals and sandbanks, and, by afternoon, with the +sails close rigged in the freshening wind, they were running parallel +with the Cliff--"THE Cliff!" thought Mahony with a curl of the lip. And +indeed there was no other; nothing but low scrub-grown sandhills which +flattened out till they were almost level with the sea. + +The passage through the Heads was at hand. Impulsively he went down to +fetch Mary. Threading his way through the saloon, in the middle of +which grew up one of the masts, he opened a door leading off it. + +"Come on deck, my dear, and take your last look at the old place. It's +not likely you'll ever see it again." + +But Mary was already encoffined in her narrow berth. + +"Don't ask me even to lift my head from the pillow, Richard. Besides, +I've seen it so often before." + +He lingered to make some arrangements for her comfort, fidgeted to know +where she had put his books; then mounted a locker and craned his neck +at the porthole. "Now for the Rip, wife! By God, Mary, I little thought +this time last year, that I should be crossing it to-day." + +But the cabin was too dark and small to hold him. Climbing the steep +companion-way he went on deck again, and resumed his flittings to and +fro. He was no more able to be still than was the good ship under him; +he felt himself one with her, and gloried in her growing unrest. She +was now come to the narrow channel between two converging headlands, +where the waters of Hobson's Bay met those of the open sea. They boiled +and churned, in an eternal commotion, over treacherous reefs which +thrust far out below the surface and were betrayed by straight, white +lines of foam. Once safely out, the vessel hove to to drop the pilot. +Leaning over the gunwale Mahony watched a boat come alongside, the man +of oilskins climb down the rope-ladder and row away. + +Here, in the open, a heavy swell was running, but he kept his foot on +the swaying boards long after the last of his fellow-passengers had +vanished--a tall, thin figure, with an eager, pointed face, and hair +just greying at the temples. Contrary to habit, he had a word for every +one who passed, from mate to cabin-boy, and he drank a glass of wine +with the Captain in his cabin. Their start had been auspicious, said +the latter; seldom had he had such a fair wind to come out with. + +Then the sun fell into the sea and it was night--a fine, starry night, +clear with the hard, cold radiance of the south. Mahony looked up at +the familiar constellations and thought of those others, long missed, +that he was soon to see again.--Over! This page of his history was +turned and done with; and he had every reason to feel thankful. For +many and many a man, though escaping with his life, had left youth and +health and hope on these difficult shores. He had got off scot-free. +Still in his prime, his faculties green, his zest for living +unimpaired, he was heading for the dear old mother country--for home. +Alone and unaided he could never have accomplished it. Strength to will +the enterprise, steadfastness in the face of obstacles had been lent +him from above. And as he stood gazing down into the black and +fathomless deep, which sent crafty, licking tongues up the vessel's +side, he freely acknowledged his debt, gave honour where honour was +due.--FROM THEE COMETH VICTORY, FROM THEE COMETH WISDOM, AND THINE IS +THE GLORY AND I AM THY SERVANT. + +The last spark of a coast-light went out. Buffeted by the rising wind, +the good ship began to pitch and roll. Her canvas rattled, her joints +creaked and groaned as, lunging forward, she cut her way through the +troubled seas that break on the reef-bound coasts of this old, new +world. + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Australia Felix, by Henry Handel Richardson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUSTRALIA FELIX *** + +***** This file should be named 3832.txt or 3832.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/3/3832/ + +Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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The digger fell +forward on his face, his ribs jammed across his pick, his arms pinned to +his sides, nose and mouth pressed into the sticky mud as into a mask; +and over his defenceless body, with a roar that burst his ear-drums, +broke stupendous masses of earth. + +His mates at the windlass went staggering back from the belch of +violently discharged air: it tore the wind-sail to strips, sent stones +and gravel flying, loosened planks and props. Their shouts drawing no +response, the younger and nimbler of the two--he was a mere boy, for +all his amazing growth of beard--put his foot in the bucket and went +down on the rope, kicking off the sides of the shaft with his free foot. +A group of diggers, gathering round the pit-head, waited for the tug at +the rope. It was quick in coming; and the lad was hauled to the surface. +No hope: both drives had fallen in; the bottom of the shaft was blocked. +The crowd melted with a "Poor Bill--God rest his soul!" or with a +silent shrug. Such accidents were not infrequent; each man might thank +his stars it was not he who lay cooling down below. And so, since no +more washdirt would be raised from this hole, the party that worked it +made off for the nearest grog-shop, to wet their throats to the memory +of the dead, and to discuss future plans. + +All but one: a lean and haggard-looking man of some five and forty, who +was known to his comrades as Long Jim. On hearing his mate's report he +had sunk heavily down on a log, and there he sat, a pannikin of raw +spirit in his hand, the tears coursing ruts down cheeks scabby with +yellow mud, his eyes glassy as marbles with those that had still to +fall. + +He wept, not for the dead man, but for himself. This accident was the +last link in a chain of ill-luck that had been forging ever since he +first followed the diggings. He only needed to put his hand to a thing, +and luck deserted it. In all the sinkings he had been connected with, he +had not once caught his pick in a nugget or got the run of the gutter; +the "bottoms" had always proved barren, drives been exhausted without +his raising the colour. At the present claim he and his mates had toiled +for months, overcoming one difficulty after another. The slabbing, for +instance, had cost them infinite trouble; it was roughly done, too, and, +even after the pins were in, great flakes of earth would come tumbling +down from between the joints, on one occasion nearly knocking silly the +man who was below. Then, before they had slabbed a depth of three times +nine, they had got into water, and in this they worked for the next +sixty feet. They were barely rid of it, when the two adjoining claims +were abandoned, and in came the flood again--this time they had to fly +for their lives before it, so rapid was its rise. Not the strongest man +could stand in this ice-cold water for more than three days on end--the +bark slabs stank in it, too, like the skins in a tanner's yard--and +they had been forced to quit work till it subsided. He and another man +had gone to the hills, to hew trees for more slabs; the rest to the +grog-shop. From there, when it was feasible to make a fresh start, they +had to be dragged, some blind drunk, the rest blind stupid from their +booze. That had been the hardest job of any: keeping the party together. +They had only been eight in all--a hand-to-mouth number for a deep wet +hole. Then, one had died of dysentery, contracted from working +constantly in water up to his middle; another had been nabbed in a +manhunt and clapped into the "logs." And finally, but a day or two back, +the three men who completed the nightshift had deserted for a new "rush" +to the Avoca. Now, his pal had gone, too. There was nothing left for +him, Long Jim, to do, but to take his dish and turn fossicker; or even +to aim no higher than washing over the tailings rejected by the +fossicker. + +At the thought his tears flowed anew. He cursed the day on which he had +first set foot on Ballarat. + +"It's 'ell for white men--'ell, that's what it is!" + +"'Ere, 'ave another drink, matey, and fergit yer bloody troubles." + +His re-filled pannikin drained, he grew warmer round the heart; and sang +the praises of his former life. He had been a lamplighter in the old +country, and for many years had known no more arduous task than that of +tramping round certain streets three times daily, ladder on shoulder, +bitch at heel, to attend the little flames that helped to dispel the +London dark. And he might have jogged on at this up to three score years +and ten, had he never lent an ear to the tales that were being told of a +wonderful country, where, for the mere act of stooping, and with your +naked hand, you could pick up a fortune from the ground. Might the +rogues who had spread these lies be damned to all eternity! Then, he had +swallowed them only too willingly; and, leaving the old woman wringing +her hands, had taken every farthing of his savings and set sail for +Australia. That was close on three years ago. For all he knew, his wife +might be dead and buried by this time; or sitting in the almshouse. She +could not write, and only in the early days had an occasional newspaper +reached him, on which, alongside the Queen's head, she had put the mark +they had agreed on, to show that she was still alive. He would probably +never see her again, but would end his days where he was. Well, they +wouldn't be many; this was not a place that made old bones. And, as he +sat, worked on by grief and liquor, he was seized by a desperate +homesickness for the old country. Why had he ever been fool enough to +leave it? He shut his eyes, and all the well-known sights and sounds of +the familiar streets came back to him. He saw himself on his rounds of a +winter's afternoon, when each lamp had a halo in the foggy air; heard +the pit-pat of his four-footer behind him, the bump of the ladder +against the prong of the lamp-post. His friend the policeman's glazed +stovepipe shone out at the corner; from the distance came the tinkle of +the muffin-man's bell, the cries of the buy-a-brooms. He remembered the +glowing charcoal in the stoves of the chestnut and potato sellers; the +appetising smell of the cooked-fish shops; the fragrant steam of the +hot, dark coffee at the twopenny stall, when he had turned shivering out +of bed; he sighed for the lights and jollity of the "Hare and Hounds" on +a Saturday night. He would never see anything of the kind again. No; +here, under bare blue skies, out of which the sun frizzled you alive; +here, where it couldn't rain without at once being a flood; where the +very winds blew contrarily, hot from the north and bitter-chill from the +south; where, no matter how great the heat by day, the night would as +likely as not be nipping cold: here he was doomed to end his life, and +to end it, for all the yellow sunshine, more hopelessly knotted and +gnarled with rheumatism than if, dawn after dawn, he had gone out in a +cutting north-easter, or groped his way through the grey fog-mists sent +up by grey Thames. + +Thus he sat and brooded, all the hatred of the unwilling exile for the +land that gives him house-room burning in his breast. + +Who the man was, who now lay deep in a grave that fitted him as a glove +fits the hand, careless of the pass to which he had brought his mate; +who this really was, Long Jim knew no more than the rest. Young Bill had +never spoken out. They had chummed together on the seventy-odd-mile +tramp from Melbourne; had boiled a common billy and slept side by side +in rain-soaked blankets, under the scanty hair of a she-oak. That was in +the days of the first great stampede to the goldfields, when the embryo +seaports were as empty as though they were plague-ridden, and every man +who had the use of his legs was on the wide bush-track, bound for the +north. It was better to be two than one in this medley of bullock-teams, +lorries, carts and pack-horses, of dog-teams, wheelbarrows and swagmen, +where the air rang with oaths, shouts and hammering hoofs, with +whip-cracking and bullock-prodding; in this hurly-burly of thieves, +bushrangers and foreigners, of drunken convicts and deserting sailors, +of slit-eyed Chinese and apt-handed Lascars, of expirees and +ticket-of-leave men, of Jews, Turks and other infidels. Long Jim, himself +stunned by it all: by the pother of landing and of finding a roof to cover +him; by the ruinous price of bare necessaries; by the length of this +unheard-of walk that lay before his town-bred feet: Long Jim had gladly +accepted the young man's company on the road. Originally, for no more than +this; at heart he distrusted Young Bill, because of his fine-gentleman +airs, and intended shaking the lad off as soon as they reached the +diggings. There, a man must, for safety's sake, be alone, when he stooped +to pick up his fortune. But at first sight of the strange, wild scene that +met his eyes he hastily changed his mind. And so the two of them had stuck +together; and he had never had cause to regret it. For all his lily-white +hands and finical speech Young Bill had worked like a nigger, +standing by his mate through the latter's disasters; had worked till the +ladyish hands were horny with warts and corns, and this, though he was +doubled up with dysentery in the hot season, and racked by winter +cramps. But the life had proved too hard for him, all the same. During +the previous summer he had begun to drink--steadily, with the dogged +persistence that was in him--and since then his work had gone downhill. +His sudden death had only been a hastening-on of the inevitable. +Staggering home to the tent after nightfall he would have been sure, +sooner or later, to fall into a dry shicer and break his neck, or into a +wet one and be drowned. + +On the surface of the Gravel Pit his fate was already forgotten. The +rude activity of a gold-diggings in full swing had closed over the +incident, swallowed it up. + +Under a sky so pure and luminous that it seemed like a thinly drawn veil +of blueness, which ought to have been transparent, stretched what, from +a short way off, resembled a desert of pale clay. No patch of green +offered rest to the eye; not a tree, hardly a stunted bush had been left +standing, either on the bottom of the vast shallow basin itself, or on +the several hillocks that dotted it and formed its sides. Even the most +prominent of these, the Black Hill, which jutted out on the Flat like a +gigantic tumulus, had been stripped of its dense timber, feverishly +disembowelled, and was now become a bald protuberance strewn with gravel +and clay. The whole scene had that strange, repellent ugliness that goes +with breaking up and throwing into disorder what has been sanctified as +final, and belongs, in particular, to the wanton disturbing of earth's +gracious, green-spread crust. In the pre-golden era this wide valley, +lying open to sun and wind, had been a lovely grassland, ringed by a +circlet of wooded hills; beyond these, by a belt of virgin forest. A +limpid river and more than one creek had meandered across its face; +water was to be found there even in the driest summer. She-oaks and +peppermint had given shade to the flocks of the early settlers; wattles +had bloomed their brief delirious yellow passion against the grey-green +foliage of the gums. Now, all that was left of the original "pleasant +resting-place" and its pristine beauty were the ancient volcanic cones +of Warrenheip and Buninyong. These, too far off to supply wood for +firing or slabbing, still stood green and timbered, and looked down upon +the havoc that had been made of the fair, pastoral lands. + +Seen nearer at hand, the dun-coloured desert resolved itself into +uncountable pimpling clay and mud-heaps, of divers shade and varying +sizes: some consisted of but a few bucketfuls of mullock, others were +taller than the tallest man. There were also hundreds of rain-soaked, +mud-bespattered tents, sheds and awnings; wind-sails, which fell, +funnel-like, from a kind of gallows into the shafts they ventilated; +flags fluttering on high posts in front of stores. The many human +figures that went to and fro were hardly to be distinguished from the +ground they trod. They were coated with earth, clay-clad in ochre and +gamboge. Their faces were daubed with clauber; it matted great beards, +and entangled the coarse hairs on chests and brawny arms. Where, here +and there, a blue jumper had kept a tinge of blueness, it was so +besmeared with yellow that it might have been expected to turn green. +The gauze neck-veils that hung from the brims of wide-awakes or +cabbage-trees were become stiff little lattices of caked clay. + +There was water everywhere. From the spurs and gullies round about, the +autumn rains had poured freely down on the Flat; river and creeks had +been over their banks; and such narrow ground-space as remained between +the thick-sown tents, the myriads of holes that abutted one on another, +jealous of every inch of space, had become a trough of mud. Water +meandered over this mud, or carved its soft way in channels; it lay +about in puddles, thick and dark as coffee-grounds; it filled abandoned +shallow holes to the brim. + +From this scene rose a blurred hum of sound; rose and as it were +remained stationary above it--like a smoke-cloud, which no wind comes +to drive away. Gradually, though, the ear made out, in the conglomerate +of noise, a host of separate noises infinitely multiplied: the sharp +tick-tick of surface-picks, the dull thud of shovels, their muffled +echoes from the depths below. There was also the continuous squeak and +groan of windlasses; the bump of the mullock emptied from the bucket; +the trundle of wheelbarrows, pushed along a plank from the shaft's mouth +to the nearest pool; the dump of the dart on the heap for washing. Along +the banks of a creek, hundreds of cradles rattled and grated; the noise +of the spades, chopping the gravel into the puddling-tubs or the Long +Toms, was like the scrunch of shingle under waves. The fierce yelping of +the dogs chained to the flag-posts of stores, mongrels which yapped at +friend and foe alike, supplied a note of earsplitting discord. + +But except for this it was a wholly mechanical din. Human brains +directed operations, human hands carried them out, but the sound of the +human voice was, for the most part, lacking. The diggers were a sombre, +preoccupied race, little given to lip-work. Even the "shepherds," who, +in waiting to see if their neighbours struck the lead, beguiled the time +with euchre and "lambskinnet," played moodily, their mouths glued to +their pipe-stems; they were tail-on-end to fling down the cards for pick +and shovel. The great majority, ant-like in their indefatigable +busyness, neither turned a head nor looked up: backs were bent, eyes +fixed, in a hard scrutiny of cradle or tin-dish: it was the earth that +held them, the familiar, homely earth, whose common fate it is to be +trodden heedlessly underfoot. Here, it was the loadstone that drew all +men's thoughts. And it took toll of their bodies in odd, exhausting +forms of labour, which were swift to weed out the unfit. + +The men at the windlasses spat into their horny palms and bent to the +crank: they paused only to pass the back of a hand over a sweaty +forehead, or to drain a nose between two fingers. The barrow-drivers +shoved their loads, the bones of their forearms standing out like ribs. +Beside the pools, the puddlers chopped with their shovels; some even +stood in the tubs, and worked the earth with their feet, as wine-pressers +trample grapes. The cradlers, eternally rocking with one hand, +held a long stick in the other with which to break up any clods a +careless puddler might have deposited in the hopper. Behind these came +the great army of fossickers, washers of surface-dirt, equipped with +knives and tin-dishes, and content if they could wash out +half-a-pennyweight to the dish. At their heels still others, who treated +the tailings they threw away. And among these last was a sprinkling of +women, more than one with an infant sucking at her breast. Withdrawn +into a group for themselves worked a body of Chinese, in loose blue +blouses, flappy blue leg-bags and huge conical straw hats. They, too, +fossicked and re-washed, using extravagant quantities of water. + +Thus the pale-eyed multitude worried the surface, and, at the risk and +cost of their lives, probed the depths. Now that deep sinking was in +vogue, gold-digging no longer served as a play-game for the gentleman +and the amateur; the greater number of those who toiled at it were +work-tried, seasoned men. And yet, although it had now sunk to the level +of any other arduous and uncertain occupation, and the magic prizes of the +early days were seldom found, something of the old, romantic glamour +still clung to this most famous gold-field, dazzling the eyes and +confounding the judgment. Elsewhere, the horse was in use at the +puddling-trough, and machines for crushing quartz were under discussion. +But the Ballarat digger resisted the introduction of machinery, fearing +the capitalist machinery would bring in its train. He remained the +dreamer, the jealous individualist; he hovered for ever on the brink of +a stupendous discovery. + +This dream it was, of vast wealth got without exertion, which had +decoyed the strange, motley crowd, in which peers and churchmen rubbed +shoulders with the scum of Norfolk Island, to exile in this outlandish +region. And the intention of all alike had been: to snatch a golden +fortune from the earth and then, hey, presto! for the old world again. +But they were reckoning without their host: only too many of those who +entered the country went out no more. They became prisoners to the soil. +The fabulous riches of which they had heard tell amounted, at best, to a +few thousands of pounds: what folly to depart with so little, when +mother earth still teemed! Those who drew blanks nursed an unquenchable +hope, and laboured all their days like navvies, for a navvy's wage. +Others again, broken in health or disheartened, could only turn to an +easier handiwork. There were also men who, as soon as fortune smiled on +them, dropped their tools and ran to squander the work of months in a +wild debauch; and they invariably returned, tail down, to prove their +luck anew. And, yet again, there were those who, having once seen the +metal in the raw: in dust, fine as that brushed from a butterfly's wing; +in heavy, chubby nuggets; or, more exquisite still, as the daffodil-yellow +veining of bluish-white quartz: these were gripped in the +subtlest way of all. A passion for the gold itself awoke in them an +almost sensual craving to touch and possess; and the glitter of a few +specks at the bottom of pan or cradle came, in time, to mean more to +them than "home," or wife, or child. + +Such were the fates of those who succumbed to the "unholy hunger." It +was like a form of revenge taken on them, for their loveless schemes of +robbing and fleeing; a revenge contrived by the ancient, barbaric +country they had so lightly invaded. Now, she held them captive--without +chains; ensorcelled--without witchcraft; and, lying stretched +like some primeval monster in the sun, her breasts freely bared, she +watched, with a malignant eye, the efforts made by these puny mortals to +tear their lips away. + + + + + +Part I + + + + +Chapter I + +On the summit of one of the clay heaps, a woman shot into silhouette +against the sky. An odd figure, clad in a skimpy green petticoat, with a +scarlet shawl held about her shoulders, wisps of frowsy red hair +standing out round her head, she balanced herself on the slippery earth, +spinning her arm like the vane of a windmill, and crying at the top of +her voice: "Joe, boys!--Joe, Joe, Joey!" + +It was as if, with these words, she had dropped a live shell in the +diggers' midst. A general stampede ensued; in which the cry was caught +up, echoed and re-echoed, till the whole Flat rang with the name of +"Joe." Tools were dropped, cradles and tubs abandoned, windlasses left +to kick their cranks backwards. Many of the workers took to their heels; +others, in affright, scuttled aimlessly hither and thither, like +barnyard fowls in a panic. Summoned by shouts of: "Up with you, +boys!--the traps are here!" numbers ascended from below to see the fun, +while as many went hurriedly down to hiding in drive or chamber. Even +those diggers who could pat the pocket in which their licence lay ceased +work, and stood about with sullen faces to view the course of events. Only +the group of Chinamen washing tail-heaps remained unmoved. One of them, to +whom the warning woman belonged, raised his head and called a Chinese +word at her; she obeyed it instantly, vanished into thin air; the rest +went impassively on with their fossicking. They were not such fools as +to try to cheat the Government of its righteous dues. None but had his +licence safely folded in his nosecloth, and thrust inside the bosom of +his blouse. + +Through the labyrinth of tents and mounds, a gold-laced cap could be +seen approaching; then a gold-tressed jacket came into view, the white +star on the forehead of a mare. Behind the Commissioner, who rode down +thus from the Camp, came the members of his staff; these again were +followed by a body of mounted troopers. They drew rein on the slope, and +simultaneously a line of foot police, backed by a detachment of light +infantry, shot out like an arm, and walled in the Flat to the south. + +On the appearance of the enemy the babel redoubled. There were groans +and cat-calls. Along with the derisive "Joeys!" the rebel diggers hurled +any term of abuse that came to their lips. + +"The dolly mops! The skunks! The bushrangers!--Oh, damn 'em, damn 'em! +. . . damn their bloody eyes!" + +"It's Rooshia--that's what it is!" said an oldish man darkly. + +The Commissioner, a horse-faced, solemn man with brown side whiskers, +let the reins droop on his mare's neck and sat unwinking in the tumult. +His mien was copied by his staff. Only one of them, a very young boy who +was new to the colony and his post, changed colour under his gaudy cap, +went from white to pink and from pink to white again; while at each +fresh insult he gave a perceptible start, and gazed dumbfounded at his +chief's insensitive back. + +The "bloodhounds" had begun to track their prey. Rounding up, with a +skill born of long practice, they drove the diggers before them towards +the centre of the Flat. Here they passed from group to group and from +hole to hole, calling for the production of licences with an insolence +that made its object see red. They were nice of scent, too, and, nine +times in ten, pounced on just those unfortunates who, through +carelessness, or lack of means, or on political grounds, had failed to +take out the month's licence to dig for gold. Every few minutes one or +another was marched off between two constables to the Government Camp, +for fine or imprisonment. + +Now it was that it suddenly entered Long Jim's head to cut and run. Up +till now he had stood declaring himself a free-born Briton, who might be +drawn and quartered if he ever again paid the blasted tax. But, as the +police came closer, a spear of fright pierced his befuddled brain, and +inside a breath he was off and away. Had the abruptness of his start not +given him a slight advantage, he would have been caught at once. As it +was, the chase would not be a long one; the clumsy, stiff-jointed man +slithered here and stuck fast there, dodging obstacles with an +awkwardness that was painful to see. He could be heard sobbing and +cursing as he ran. + +At this point the Commissioner, half turning, signed to the troopers in +his rear. Six or seven of them shook up their bridles and rode off, +their scabbards clinking, to prevent the fugitive's escape. + +A howl of contempt went up from the crowd. The pink and white subaltern +made what was almost a movement of the arm to intercept his superior's +command. + +It was too much for Long Jim's last mate, the youthful blackbeard who +had pluckily descended the shaft after the accident. He had been +standing on a mound with a posse of others, following the man-hunt. At +his partner's crack-brained dash for the open, his snorts of indignation +found words. "Gaw-blimy! . . . is the old fool gone dotty?" Then he drew +a whistling breath. "No, it's more than flesh and blood . . . . Stand +back, boys!" And though he was as little burdened with a licence as the +man under pursuit, he shouted: "Help, help! . . . for God's sake, don't +let 'em have me!" shot down the slope, and was off like the wind. + +His foxly object was attained. The attention of the hunters was +diverted. Long Jim, seizing the moment, vanished underground. + +The younger man ran with the lightness of a hare. He had also the hare's +address in doubling and turning. His pursuers never knew, did he pass +from sight behind a covert of tents and mounds, where he would bob up +next. He avoided shafts and pools as if by a miracle; ran along greasy +planks without a slip; and, where these had been removed to balk the +police, he jumped the holes, taking risks that were not for a sane man. +Once he fell, but, enslimed from head to foot, wringing wet and hatless, +was up again in a twinkling. His enemies were less sure-footed than he, +and times without number measured their length on the oily ground. +Still, one of them was gaining rapidly on him, a giant of a fellow with +long thin legs; and soon the constable's foot filled the prints left by +the young man's, while these were still warm. It was a fine run. The +diggers trooped after in a body; the Flat rang with cheers and plaudits. +Even the Commissioner and his retinue trotted in the same direction. +Eventually the runaway must land in the arms of the mounted police. + +But this was not his plan. Making as though he headed for the open, he +suddenly dashed off at right angles, and, with a final sprint, brought +up dead against a log-and-canvas store which stood on rising ground. His +adversary was so close behind that a collision resulted; the digger's +feet slid from under him, he fell on his face, the other on top. In +their fall they struck a huge pillar of tin-dishes, ingeniously built up +to the height of the store itself. This toppled over with a crash, and +the dishes went rolling down the slope between the legs of the police. +The dog chained to the flagstaff all but strangled himself in his rage +and excitement; and the owner of the store came running out. + +"Purdy! . . . you! What in the name of . . .?" + +The digger adroitly rolled his captor over, and there they both sat, +side by side on the ground, one gripping the other's collar, both too +blown to speak. A cordon of puffing constables hemmed them in. + +The storekeeper frowned. "You've no licence, you young beggar!" + +And: "Your licence, you scoundrel!" demanded the leader of the troop. + +The prisoner's rejoinder was a saucy: "Now then, out with the cuffs, +Joe!" + +He got on his feet as bidden; but awkwardly, for it appeared that in +falling he had hurt his ankle. Behind the police were massed the +diggers. These opened a narrow alley for the Camp officials to ride +through, but their attitude was hostile, and there were cries of: "Leave +'im go, yer blackguards! . . . after sich a run! None o yer bloody quod +for 'im!" along with other, more threatening expressions. Sombre and +taciturn, the Commissioner waved his hand. "Take him away!" + +"Well, so long, Dick!" said the culprit jauntily; and, as he offered his +wrists to be handcuffed, he whistled an air. + +Here the storekeeper hurriedly interposed: "No, stop! I'll give bail." +And darting into the tent and out again, he counted five one-pound notes +into the constable's palm. The lad's collar was released; and a murmur +of satisfaction mounted from the crowd. + +At the sound the giver made as if to retire. Then, yielding to a second +thought, he stepped forward and saluted the Commissioner. "A young +hot-head, sir! He means no harm. I'll send him up in the morning, to +apologise." + +("I'll be damned if you do!" muttered the digger between his teeth.) + +But the Chief refused to be placated. "Good day, doctor," he said +shortly, and with his staff at heel trotted down the slope, followed +till out of earshot by a mocking fire of "Joes." Lingering in the rear, +the youthful sympathiser turned in his saddle and waved his cap. + +The raid was over for that day. The crowd dispersed; its members became +orderly, hard-working men once more. The storekeeper hushed his frantic +dog, and called his assistant to rebuild the pillar of tins. + +The young digger sat down on the log that served for a bench, and +examined his foot. He pulled and pulled, causing himself great pain, but +could not get his boot off. At last, looking back over his shoulder he +cried impatiently: "Dick!... I say, Dick Mahony! Give us a drink, old +boy! . . . I'm dead-beat." + +At this the storekeeper--a tall, slenderly built man of some seven or +eight and twenty--appeared, bearing a jug and a pannikin. + +"Oh, bah!" said the lad, when he found that the jug held only water. +And, on his friend reminding him that he might by now have been sitting +in the lock-up, he laughed and winked. "I knew you'd go bail." + +"Well! . . . of all the confounded impudence. . . ." + +"Faith, Dick, and d'ye think I didn't see how your hand itched for your +pocket?" + +The man he called Mahony flushed above his fair beard. It was true: he +had made an involuntary movement of the hand--checked for the rest +halfway, by the knowledge that the pocket was empty. He looked +displeased and said nothing. + +"Don't be afraid, I'll pay you back soon's ever me ship comes home," +went on the young scapegrace, who very well knew how to play his cards. +At his companion's heated disclaimer, however, he changed his tone. "I +say, Dick, have a look at my foot, will you? I can't get this damned +boot off." + +The elder man bent over the injury. He ceased to show displeasure. +"Purdy, you young fool, when will you learn wisdom?" + +"Well, they shouldn't hunt old women, then--the swine!" gave back +Purdy; and told his tale. "Oh, lor! there go six canaries." For, at his +wincing and shrinking, his friend had taken a penknife and ripped up the +jackboot. Now, practised hands explored the swollen, discoloured ankle. + +When it had been washed and bandaged, its owner stretched himself on the +ground, his head in the shade of a barrel, and went to sleep. + +He slept till sundown, through all the traffic of a busy afternoon. + +Some half-a-hundred customers came and went. The greater number of them +were earth-stained diggers, who ran up for, it might be, a missing tool, +or a hide bucket, or a coil of rope. They spat jets of tobacco-juice, +were richly profane, paid, where coin was scarce, in gold-dust from a +match-box, and hurried back to work. But there also came old harridans--as +often as not, diggers themselves--whose language outdid that of the +males, and dirty Irish mothers; besides a couple of the white women who +inhabited the Chinese quarter. One of these was in liquor, and a great +hullabaloo took place before she could be got rid of. Put out, she stood +in front of the tent, her hair hanging down her back, cursing and +reviling. Respectable women as well did an afternoon's shopping there. +In no haste to be gone, they sat about on empty boxes or upturned +barrels exchanging confidences, while weary children plucked at their +skirts. A party of youngsters entered, the tallest of whom could just +see over the counter, and called for shandygaffs. The assistant was for +chasing them off, with hard words. But the storekeeper put, instead, a +stick of barley-sugar into each dirty, outstretched hand, and the imps +retired well content. On their heels came a digger and his lady-love to +choose a wedding-outfit; and all the gaudy finery the store held was +displayed before them. A red velvet dress flounced with satin, a pink +gauze bonnet, white satin shoes and white silk stockings met their +fancy. The dewy-lipped, smutty-lashed Irish girl blushed and dimpled, in +consulting with the shopman upon the stays in which to lace her ample +figure; the digger, whose very pores oozed gold, planked down handfuls +of dust and nuggets, and brushed aside a neat Paisley shawl for one of +yellow satin, the fellow to which he swore to having seen on the back of +the Governor's lady herself. He showered brandy-snaps on the children, +and bought a polka-jacket for a shabby old woman. Then, producing a +bottle of champagne from a sack he bore, he called on those present to +give him, after: "'Er most Gracious little Majesty, God bless 'er!" the: +"'Oly estate of materimony!" The empty bottle smashed for luck, the +couple departed arm-in-arm, carrying their purchases in the sack; and +the rest of the company trooped to the door with them, to wish them joy. + +Within the narrow confines of the tent, where red-herrings trailed over +moleskin-shorts, and East India pickles and Hessian boots lay on the top +of sugar and mess-pork; where cheeses rubbed shoulders with tallow +candles, blue and red serge shirts, and captain's biscuits; where +onions, and guernseys, and sardines, fine combs, cigars and bear's-grease, +Windsor soap, tinned coffee and hair oil, revolvers, shovels and +Oxford shoes, lay in one grand miscellany: within the crowded store, as +the afternoon wore on, the air grew rank and oppressive. Precisely at +six o'clock the bar was let down across the door, and the storekeeper +withdrew to his living-room at the back of the tent. Here he changed his +coat and meticulously washed his hands, to which clung a subtle blend of +all the strong-smelling goods that had passed through them. Then, coming +round to the front, he sat down on the log and took out his pipe. He +made a point, no matter how brisk trade was, of not keeping open after +dark. His evenings were his own. + +He sat and puffed, tranquilly. It was a fine night. The first showy +splendour of sunset had passed; but the upper sky was still aflush with +colour. And in the centre of this frail cloud, which faded as he watched +it, swam a single star. + + + + +Chapter II + +With the passing of a cooler air the sleeper wakened and rubbed his +eyes. Letting his injured leg lie undisturbed, he drew up the other knee +and buckled his hands round it. In this position he sat and talked. + +He was a dark, fresh-coloured young man, of middle height, and broadly +built. He had large white teeth of a kind to crack nuts with, and the +full, wide, flexible mouth that denotes the generous talker. + +"What a wind-bag it is, to be sure!" thought his companion, as he smoked +and listened, in a gently ironic silence, to abuse of the Government. He +knew--or thought he knew--young Purdy inside out. + +But behind all the froth of the boy's talk there lurked, it seemed, a +purpose. No sooner was a meal of cold chop and tea over than Purdy +declared his intention of being present at a meeting of malcontent +diggers. Nor would he even wait to wash himself clean of mud. + +His friend reluctantly agreed to lend him an arm. But he could not +refrain from taking the lad to task for getting entangled in the +political imbroglio. "When, as you know, it's just a kind of sport to +you." + +Purdy sulked for a few paces, then burst out: "If only you weren't so +damned detached, Dick Mahony!" + +"You're restless, and want excitement, my boy--that's the root of the +trouble." + +"Well, I'm jiggered! If ever I knew a restless mortal, it's yourself." + +The two men picked their steps across the Flat and up the opposite +hillside, young Purdy Smith limping and leaning heavy, his lame foot +thrust into an old slipper. He was at all times hail-fellow-well-met +with the world. Now, in addition, his plucky exploit of the afternoon +blazed its way through the settlement; and blarney and bravos rained +upon him. "Golly for you, Purdy, old 'oss!" "Showed 'em the diggers' +flag, 'e did!" "What'll you take, me buck? Come on in for a drop o' the +real strip-me-down-naked!" Even a weary old strumpet, propping herself +against the doorway of a dancing-saloon, waved a tipsy hand and cried: +"Arrah, an' is it yerrself, Purrdy, me bhoy? Shure an' it's bussin' ye +I'd be afther--if me legs would carry me!" And Purdy laughed, and +relished the honey, and had an answer pat for everybody especially the +women. His companion on the other hand was greeted with a glibness that +had something perfunctory in it, and no touch of familiarity. + +The big canvas tent on Bakery Hill, where the meeting was to be held, +was already lighted; and at the tinkle of a bell the diggers, who till +then had stood cracking and hobnobbing outside, began to push for the +entrance. The bulk of them belonged to the race that is quickest to +resent injustice--were Irish. After them in number came the Germans, +swaggering and voluble; and the inflammable French, English, Scotch and +Americans formed a smaller and cooler, but very dogged group. + +At the end of the tent a rough platform had been erected, on which stood +a row of cane seats. In the body of the hall, the benches were formed of +boards, laid from one upturned keg or tub to another. The chair was +taken by a local auctioneer, a cadaverous-looking man, with never a +twinkle in his eye, who, in a lengthy discourse and with the single +monotonous gesture of beating the palm of one hand with the back of the +other, strove to bring home to his audience the degradation of their +present political status. The diggers chewed and spat, and listened to +his periods with sang-froid: the shame of their state did not greatly +move them. They followed, too, with composure, the rehearsal of their +general grievances. As they were aware, said the speaker, the +Legislative Council of Victoria was made up largely of Crown nominees; +in the election of members the gold-seeking population had no voice +whatsoever. This was a scandalous thing; for the digging constituent +outnumbered all the rest of the population put together, thus forming +what he would call the backbone and mainstay of the colony. The labour +of THEIR hands had raised the colony to its present pitch of prosperity. +And yet these same bold and hardy pioneers were held incapable of +deciding jot or tittle in the public affairs of their adopted home. +Still unmoved, the diggers listened to this recital of their virtues. +But when one man, growing weary of the speaker's unctuous wordiness, +discharged a fierce: "Why the hell don't yer git on to the bloody +licence-tax?" the audience was fire and flame in an instant. A riotous +noise ensued; rough throats rang changes on the question. Order +restored, it was evident that the speech was over. Thrown violently out +of his concept, the auctioneer struck and struck at his palm--in vain; +nothing would come. So, making the best of a bad job, he irately sat +down in favour of his successor on the programme. + +This speaker did not fare much better. The assemblage, roused now, jolly +and merciless, was not disposed to give quarter; and his obtuseness in +dawdling over such high-flown notions as that population, not property, +formed the basis of representative government, reaped him a harvest of +boos and groans. This was not what the diggers had come out to hear. And +they were as direct as children in their demand for the gist of the +matter. + +"A reg-lar ol' shicer!" was the unanimous opinion, expressed without +scruple. While from the back of the hall came the curt request to him to +shut his "tater-trap." + +Next on the list was a German, a ruddy-faced man with mutton-chop +whiskers and prominent, watery eyes. He could not manage the letter "r." +In the body of a word where it was negligible, he rolled it out as +though it stood three deep. Did he tackle it as an initial, on the other +hand, his tongue seemed to cleave to his palate, and to yield only an +"l." This quaint defect caused some merriment at the start, but was soon +eclipsed by a more striking oddity. The speaker had the habit of, as it +were, creaking with his nose. After each few sentences he paused, to +give himself time to produce something between a creak and a snore--an +abortive attempt to get at a mucus that was plainly out of reach. + +The diggers were beside themselves with mirth. + +"'E's forgot 'is 'ankey!" + +"'Ere, boys, look slippy!--a 'ankey for ol' sausage!" + +But the German was not sensitive to ridicule. He had something to say, +and he was there to say it. Fixing his fish-like eyes on a spot high up +the tent wall, he kept them pinned to it, while he mouthed out +blood-and-thunder invectives. He was, it seemed, a red-hot revolutionist; +a fierce denouncer of British rule. He declared the British monarchy to be +an effete institution; the fetish of British freedom to have been +"exbloded" long ago. What they needed, in this grand young country of +theirs, was a "republic"; they must rid themselves of those shackles +that had been forged in the days when men were slaves. It was his sound +conviction that before many weeks had passed, the Union Jack would have +been hauled down for ever, and the glorious Southern Cross would wave in +its stead, over a free Australia. The day on which this happened would +be a never-to-be-forgotten date in the annals of the country. For what, +he would like to know, had the British flag ever done for freedom, at +any time in the world's history? They should read in their school-books, +and there they would learn that wherever a people had risen against +their tyrants, the Union Jack had waved, not over them, but over the +British troops sent to stamp the rising out. + +This was more than Mahony could stomach. Flashing up from his seat, he +strove to assert himself above the hum of agreement that mounted from +the foreign contingent, and the doubtful sort of grumble by which the +Britisher signifies his disapproval. + +"Mr. Chairman! Gentlemen!" he cried in a loud voice. "I call upon those +loyal subjects of her Majesty who are present here, to join with me in +giving three cheers for the British flag. Hip, hip, hurrah! And, again, +hip, hip, hurrah! And, once more, hip, hip, hurrah!" + +His compatriots followed him, though flabbily; and he continued to make +himself heard above the shouts of "Order!" and the bimming of the +chairman's bell. + +"Mr. Chairman! I appeal to you. Are we Britons to sit still and hear our +country's flag reviled?--that flag which has ensured us the very +liberty we are enjoying this evening. The gentleman who has been pleased +to slander it is not, I believe, a British citizen. Now, I put it to +him: is there another country on the face of the earth, that would allow +people of all nations to flock into a gold-bearing colony on terms of +perfect equality with its own subjects?--to flock in, take all they can +get, and then make off with it?" a point of view that elicited forcible +grunts of assent, which held their own against hoots and hisses. +Unfortunately the speaker did not stop here, but went on: "Gentlemen! Do +not, I implore you, allow yourselves to be led astray by a handful of +ungrateful foreigners, who have received nothing but benefits from our +Crown. What you need, gentlemen, is not revolution, but reform; not +strife and bloodshed, but a liberty consistent with law and order. And +this, gentlemen,----" + +("You'll never get 'em like that, Dick," muttered Purdy.) + +"Not so much gentlemening, if YOU please!" said a sinister-looking man, +who might have been a Vandemonian in his day. "MEN'S what we are--that's +good enough for us." + +Mahony was nettled. The foreigners, too, were pressing him. + +"Am I then to believe, sir, what I frequently hear asserted, that there +are no gentlemen left on the diggings?" + +("Oh lor, Dick!" said Purdy. He was sitting with his elbows on his +knees, clutching his cheeks as though he had the toothache.) + +"Oh, stow yer blatherskite!" + +"Believe what yer bloody well like!" retorted the Vandemonian fiercely. +"But don't come 'ere and interrupt our pleasant and h'orderly meetings +with YOUR blamed jaw." + +Mahony lost his temper. "I not interrupt?--when I see you great hulks +of men--" + +("Oh, lor!" groaned Purdy again.) + +"--who call yourselves British subjects, letting yourselves be led by +the nose, like the sheep you are, by a pack of foreigners who are basely +accepting this country's hospital'ty?" + +"Here, let me," said Purdy. And pushing his way along the bench he +hobbled to the platform, where several arms hoisted him up. + +There he stood, fronting the violent commotion that had ensued on his +friend's last words; stood bedraggled, mud-stained, bandaged, his +cabbage-tree hat in his hand. And Mahony, still on his feet, angrily +erect, thought he understood why the boy had refused to wash himself +clean, or to change his dress: he had no doubt foreseen the possibility +of some such dramatic appearance. + +Purdy waited for the hubbub to die down. As if by chance he had rested +his hand on the bell; its provoking tinkle ceased. Now he broke into one +of the frank and hearty smiles that never fail to conciliate. + +"Brother diggers!" + +The strongly spoken words induced an abrupt lull. The audience turned to +him, still thorny and sulky it was true, but yet they turned; and one +among them demanded a hearing for the youngster. + +"Brother diggers! We are met here to-night with a single purpose in +view. Brother diggers! We are not met here to throw mud at our dear old +country's flag! Nor will we have a word said against her most gracious +Majesty, the Queen. Not us! We're men first, whose business it is to +stand up for a gallant little woman, and diggers with a grievance +afterwards. Are you with me, boys?--Very well, then.--Now we didn't +come here to-night to confab about getting votes, or having a hand in +public affairs--much as we want 'em both and mean to have 'em, when the +time comes. No, to-night there's only one thing that matters to us, and +that's the repeal of the accursed tax!" Here, such a tempest of applause +broke out that he was unable to proceed. "Yes, I say it again," he went +on, when they would let him speak; "the instant repeal! When that's been +done, this curse taken off us, then it'll be time enough to parlez-vous +about the colour of the flag we mean to have, and about going shares in +the Government. But let me make one thing clear to you. We're neither +traitors to the Crown, nor common rebels. We're true-blue Britons, who +have been goaded to rebellion by one of the vilest pieces of tyranny +that ever saw the light. Spies and informers are everywhere about us. +Mr. Commissioner Sleuth and his hounds may cry tally-ho every day, if +'tis their pleasure to! To put it shortly, boys, we're living under +semi-martial law. To such a state have we free-born men, men who came +out but to see the elephant, been reduced, by the asinine stupidity of +the Government, by the impudence and knavishness of its officials. +Brother diggers! When you leave the hall this evening, look over at the +hill on which the Camp stands! What will you see? You will see a blaze +of light, and hear the sounds of revelry by night. There, boys, hidden +from our mortal view, but visible to our mind's eye, sit Charley Joe's +minions, carousing at our expense, washing down each mouthful with good +fizz bought with our hard-earned gold. Licence-pickings, boys, and tips +from new grog-shops, and the blasted farce of the Commissariat! We're +supposed--" + +But here Mahony gave a loud click of the tongue--in the general howl of +execration it passed unheard--and, pushing his way out of the tent, let +the flap-door fall to behind him. + + + + +Chapter III + +He retraced his steps by the safe-conduct of a full moon, which showed +up the gaping black mouths of circular shafts and silvered the water +that flooded abandoned oblong holes to their brim. Tents and huts stood +white and forsaken in the moonlight: their owners were either gathered +on Bakery Hill, or had repaired to one of the gambling and dancing +saloons that lined the main street. Arrived at the store he set his +frantic dog free, and putting a match to his pipe, began to stroll up +and down. + +He felt annoyed with himself for having helped to swell the crowd of +malcontents; and still more for his foolishness in giving the rein to a +momentary irritation. As if it mattered a doit what trash these +foreigners talked! No thinking person took their bombast seriously; the +authorities, with great good sense, let it pass for what it was--a +noisy blowing-off of steam. At heart, the diggers were as sound as good +pippins. + +A graver consideration was Purdy's growing fellowship with the rebel +faction. The boy was too young and still too much of a fly-by-night to +have a black mark set against his name. It would be the more absurd, +considering that his sincerity in espousing the diggers' cause was far +from proved. He was of a nature to ride tantivy into anything that +promised excitement or adventure. With, it must regretfully be admitted, +an increasing relish for the limelight, for theatrical effect--see the +cunning with which he had made capital out of a bandaged ankle and dirty +dress! At this rate, and with his engaging ways, he would soon stand for +a little god to the rough, artless crowd. No, he must leave the diggings +--and Mahony rolled various schemes in his mind. He had it! In the +course of the next week or two business would make a journey to +Melbourne imperative. Well, he would damn the extra expense and take the +boy along with him! Purdy was at a loose end, and would no doubt rise +like a fish to a fly at the chance of getting to town free of cost. +After all, why be hard on him? He was not much over twenty, and, at that +age, it was natural enough--especially in a place like this--for a lad +to flit like a butterfly from every cup that took his restless fancy. + +Restless? . . . h'm! It was the word Purdy had flung back at him, +earlier in the evening. At the time, he had rebutted the charge, with a +glance at fifteen months spent behind the counter of a store. But there +was a modicum of truth in it, none the less. The life one led out here +was not calculated to tone down any innate restlessness of temperament: +on the contrary, it directly hindered one from becoming fixed and +settled. It was on a par with the houses you lived in--these flimsy +tents and draught-riddled cabins you put up with, "for the time being"-- +was just as much of a makeshift affair as they. Its keynote was change. +Fortunes were made, and lost, and made again, before you could say Jack +Robinson; whole townships shot up over-night, to be deserted the moment +the soil ceased to yield; the people you knew were here to-day, and gone +--sold up, burnt out, or dead and buried--to-morrow. And so, whether +you would or not, your whole outlook became attuned to the general +unrest; you lived in a constant anticipation of what was coming next. +Well, he could own to the weakness with more justification than most. If +trade continued to prosper with him as it did at present, it would be no +time before he could sell out and joyfully depart for the old country. + +In the meantime, why complain? He had much to be thankful for. To take +only a small point: was this not Saturday night? To-morrow the store was +closed, and a string of congenial occupations offered: from chopping the +week's wood--a clean and wholesome task, which he gladly performed-- +through the pages of an engrossing book to a botanical ramble round old +Buninyong. The thought of it cheered him. He stooped to caress his two +cats, which had come out to bear him the mute and pleasant company of +their kind. + +What a night! The great round silver moon floated serenely through +space, dimming the stars as it made them, and bathing the earth in +splendour. It was so light that straight black lines of smoke could be +seen mounting from chimneys and open-air fires. The grass-trees which +supplied the fuel for these fires spread a pleasant balsamic odour, and +the live red patches contrasted oddly with the pale ardour of the moon. +Lights twinkled over all the township, but were brightest in Main +Street, the course of which they followed like a rope of fireflies, and +at the Government Camp on the steep western slope, where no doubt, as +young Purdy had impudently averred, the officials still sat over the +dinner-table. It was very quiet--no grog-shops or saloons-of-entertainment +in this neighbourhood, thank goodness!--and the hour was +still too early for drunken roisterers to come reeling home. The only +sound to be heard was that of a man's voice singing OFT IN THE STILLY +NIGHT, to the yetching accompaniment of a concertina. Mahony hummed the +tune. + +But it was growing cold, as the nights were apt to do on this tableland +once summer was past. He whistled his dog, and Pompey hurried out with a +guilty air from the back of the house, where the old shaft stood that +served to hold refuse. Mahony put him on the chain, and was just about +to turn in when two figures rounded the corner of a tent and came +towards him, pushing their shadows before them on the milk-white ground. + +"'D evenin', doc," said the shorter of the two, a nuggetty little man +who carried his arms curved out from his sides, gorilla-fashion. + +"Oh, good evening, Mr. Ocock," said Mahony, recognising a neighbour.-- +"Why, Tom, that you? Back already, my boy?"--this to a loutish, +loose-limbed lad who followed behind.--"You don't of course come from the +meeting?" + +"Not me, indeed!" gave back his visitor with gall, and turned his head +to spit the juice from a plug. "I've got suthin' better to do as to +listen to a pack o' jabberin' furriners settin' one another by th'ears." + +"Nor you, Tom?" Mahony asked the lad, who stood sheepishly shifting his +weight from one leg to the other. + +"Nay, nor 'im eether," jumped in his father, before he could speak. +"I'll 'ave none o' my boys playin' the fool up there. And that reminds +me, doc, young Smith'll git 'imself inter the devil of a mess one o' +these days, if you don't look after 'im a bit better'n you do. I 'eard +'im spoutin' away as I come past--usin' language about the Gover'ment +fit to turn you sick." + +Mahony coughed. "He's but young yet," he said drily. "After all, youth's +youth, sir, and comes but once in a lifetime. And you can't make lads +into wiseacres between sundown and sunrise." + +"No, by Gawd, you can't!" affirmed his companion. "But I think youth's +just a fine name for a sort o' piggish mess What's the good, one 'ud +like to know, of gettin' old, and learnin' wisdom, and knowin' the good +from the bad, when ev'ry lousy young fathead that's born inter the world +starts out again to muddle through it for 'imself, in 'is own way. And +that things 'as got to go on like this, just the same, for ever and ever +--why, it makes me fair tired to think of it. My father didn't 'old with +youth: 'e knocked it out of us by thrashin', just like lyin' and +thievin'. And it's the best way, too.--Wot's that you say?" he flounced +round on the unoffending Tom. "Nothin'? You was only snifflin', was you? +You keep your fly-trap shut, my fine fellow, and make no mousy sounds to +me, or it'll be the worse for you, I can tell you!" + +"Come, Mr. Ocock, don't be too hard on the boy." + +"Not be 'ard on 'im? When I've got the nasty galoon on me 'ands again +like this?--Chucks up the good post I git 'im in Kilmore, without with +your leave or by your leave. Too lonely for 'is lordship it was. Missed +the sound o' wimmin's petticoats, 'e did." He turned fiercely on his +son. "'Ere, don't you stand starin' there! You get 'ome, and fix up for +the night. Now then, wot are you dawdlin' for, pig-'ead?" + +The boy slunk away. When he had disappeared, his father again took up +the challenge of Mahony's silent disapproval. "I can't 'ardly bear the +sight of 'im, doc.--disgracin' me as 'e 'as done. 'Im a father, and not +eighteen till June! A son o' mine, who can't see a wench with 'er bodice +open, but wot 'e must be arter 'er.... No, sir, no son o' mine! I'm a +respectable man, I am!" + +"Of course, of course." + +"Oh! but they're a sore trial to me, these boys, doc. 'Enry's the only +one . . . if it weren't for 'Enry--Johnny, 'e can't pass the drink, and +now 'ere's this young swine started to nose arter the wimmin." + +"There's good stuff in the lads, I'm sure of it. They're just sowing +their wild oats." + +"They'll sow no h'oats with me." + +"I tell you what it is, Mr. Ocock, you need a woman about your place, to +make it a bit more homelike," said Mahony, calling to mind the pigstye +in which Ocock and his sons housed. + +"Course I do!" agreed Ocock. "And Melia, she'll come out to 'er daddy +soon as ever th'ol' woman kicks the bucket.--Drat 'er! It's 'er I've +got to thank for all the mischief." + +"Well, well!" said Mahony, and rising knocked out his pipe on the log. +Did his old neighbour once get launched on the subject of his wife's +failings, there was no stopping him. "We all have our crosses." + +"That I 'ave. And I'm keepin' you outer your bed, doc., with me blather. +--By gum! and that reminds me I come 'ere special to see you to-night. +Bin gettin' a bit moonstruck, I reckon,"--and he clapped on his hat. + +Drawing a sheaf of papers from an inner pocket, he selected one and +offered it to Mahony. Mahony led the way indoors, and lighting a +kerosene-lamp stooped to decipher the letter. + +For some weeks now he had been awaiting the delivery of a load of goods, +the invoice for which had long since reached him. From this +communication, carried by hand, he learnt that the drayman, having got +bogged just beyond Bacchus's marsh, had decamped to the Ovens, taking +with him all he could cram into a spring-cart, and disposing of the +remainder for what he could get. The agent in Melbourne refused to be +held responsible for the loss, and threatened to prosecute, if payment +for the goods were not immediately forthcoming. Mahony, who here heard +the first of the affair, was highly indignant at the tone of the letter; +and before he had read to the end resolved to let everything else slide, +and to leave for Melbourne early next morning. + +Ocock backed him up in this decision, and with the aid of a great quill +pen stiffly traced the address of his eldest son, who practised as a +solicitor in the capital. + +"Go you straight to 'Enry, doc. 'Enry'll see you through." + +Brushing aside his dreams of a peaceful Sabbath Mahony made preparations +for his journey. Waking his assistant, he gave the man--a stupid +clodhopper, but honest and attached--instructions how to manage during +his absence, then sent him to the township to order horses. Himself, he +put on his hat and went out to look for Purdy. + +His search led him through all the drunken revelry of a Saturday night. +And it was close on twelve before, having followed the trace from +bowling-alley to Chinese cook-shop, from the "Adelphi" to Mother +Flannigan's and haunts still less reputable, he finally succeeded in +catching his bird. + + + + +Chapter IV + +The two young men took to the road betimes: it still wanted some minutes +to six on the new clock in the tower of Bath's Hotel, when they threw +their legs over their saddles and rode down the steep slope by the Camp +Reserve. The hoofs of the horses pounded the plank bridge that spanned +the Yarrowee, and striking loose stones, and smacking and sucking in the +mud, made a rude clatter in the Sunday quiet. + +Having followed for a few hundred yards the wide, rut-riddled +thoroughfare of Main Street, the riders branched off to cross rising +ground. They proceeded in single file and at a footpace, for the highway +had been honeycombed and rendered unsafe; it also ascended steadily. +Just before they entered the bush, which was alive with the rich, strong +whistling of magpies, Purdy halted to look back and wave his hat in +farewell. Mahony also half-turned in the saddle. There it lay--the +scattered, yet congested, unlovely wood and canvas settlement that was +Ballarat. At this distance, and from this height, it resembled nothing +so much as a collection of child's bricks, tossed out at random over the +ground, the low, square huts and cabins that composed it being all of a +shape and size. Some threads of smoke began to mount towards the immense +pale dome of the sky. The sun was catching here the panes of a window, +there the tin that encased a primitive chimney. + +They rode on, leaving the warmth of the early sun-rays for the cold blue +shadows of the bush. Neither broke the silence. Mahony's day had not +come to an end with the finding of Purdy. Barely stretched on his +palliasse he had been routed out to attend to Long Jim, who had missed +his footing and pitched into a shaft. The poor old tipsy idiot hauled up +--luckily for him it was a dry, shallow hole--there was a broken +collar-bone to set. Mahony had installed him in his own bed, and had +spent the remainder of the night dozing in a chair. + +So now he was heavy-eyed, uncommunicative. As they climbed the shoulder +and came to the rich, black soil that surrounded the ancient cone of +Warrenheip, he mused on his personal relation to the place he had just +left. And not for the first time he asked himself: what am I doing here? +When he was absent from Ballarat, and could dispassionately consider the +life he led there, he was so struck by the incongruity of the thing +that, like the beldame in the nursery-tale, he could have pinched +himself to see whether he waked or slept. Had anyone told him, three +years previously, that the day was coming when he would weigh out soap +and sugar, and hand them over a counter in exchange for money, he would +have held the prophet ripe for Bedlam. Yet here he was, a full-blown +tradesman, and as greedy of gain as any tallow-chandler. Extraordinary, +aye, and distressing, too, the ease with which the human organism +adapted itself; it was just a case of the green caterpillar on the green +leaf. Well, he could console himself with the knowledge that his +apparent submission was only an affair of the surface. He had struck no +roots; and it would mean as little to his half-dozen acquaintances on +Ballarat when he silently vanished from their midst, as it would to him +if he never saw one of them again. Or the country either--and he let +his eye roam unlovingly over the wild, sad-coloured landscape, with its +skimpy, sad-coloured trees. + +Meanwhile they were advancing: their nags' hoofs, beating in unison, +devoured mile after mile of the road. It was a typical colonial road; it +went up hill and down dale, turned aside for no obstacles. At one time +it ran down a gully that was almost a ravine, to mount straight up the +opposite side among boulders that reached to the belly-bands. At others, +it led through a reedy swamp, or a stony watercourse; or it became a +bog; or dived through a creek. Where the ground was flat and treeless, +it was a rutty, well-worn track between two seas of pale, scant grass. + +More than once, complaining of a mouth like sawdust, Purdy alighted and +limped across the verandah of a house-of-accommodation; but they did not +actually draw rein till, towards midday, they reached a knot of +weatherboard verandahed stores, smithies and public-houses, arranged at +the four Corners of two cross-roads. Here they made a substantial +luncheon; and the odour of fried onions carried far and wide. Mahony +paid his three shillings for a bottle of ale; but Purdy washed down the +steak with cup after cup of richly sugared tea. + +In the early afternoon they set off again, revived and refreshed. Purdy +caught at a bunch of aromatic leaves and burst into a song; and Mahony. +. . . Good God! With a cloudless sky overhead, a decent bit of +horseflesh between his knees, and the prospect of a three days' holiday +from storekeeping, his name would not have been what it was if he had +for long remained captious, downhearted. Insufficient sleep, and an +empty stomach--nothing on earth besides! A fig for his black thoughts! +The fact of his being obliged to spend a few years in the colony would, +in the end, profit him, by widening his experience of the world and his +fellow-men. It was possible to lead a sober, Godfearing life, no matter +in what rude corner of the globe you were pitchforked.--And in this +mood he was even willing to grant the landscape a certain charm. Since +leaving Ballan the road had dipped up and down a succession of swelling +rises, grass-grown and untimbered. From the top of these ridges the view +was a far one: you looked straight across undulating waves of country +and intervening forest-land, to where, on the horizon, a long, low +sprawling range of hills lay blue--cobalt-blue, and painted in with a +sure brush--against the porcelain-blue of the sky. What did the washed-out +tints of the foliage matter, when, wherever you turned, you could +count on getting these marvellous soft distances, on always finding a +range of blue-veiled hills, lovely and intangible as a dream? + +There was not much traffic to the diggings on a Sunday. And having come +to a level bit of ground, the riders followed a joint impulse and broke +into a canter. As they began to climb again they fell naturally into one +of those familiar talks, full of allusion and reminiscence, that are +only possible between two of a sex who have lived through part of their +green days together. + +It began by Purdy referring to the satisfactory fashion in which he had +disposed of his tools, his stretcher-bed, and other effects: he was not +travelling to Melbourne empty-handed. + +Mahony rallied him. "You were always a good one at striking a bargain, +my boy! What about: 'Four mivvies for an alley!'--eh, Dickybird?" + +This related to their earliest meeting, and was a standing joke between +them. Mahony could recall the incident as clearly as though it had +happened yesterday: how the sturdy little apple-cheeked English boy, +with the comical English accent, had suddenly bobbed up at his side on +the way home from school, and in that laughable sing-song of his, +without modulation or emphasis, had offered to "swop" him, as above. + +Purdy laughed and paid him back in kind. "Yes, and the funk you were in +for fear Spiny Tatlow 'ud see us, and peach to the rest!" + +"Yes. What young idiots boys are!" + +In thought he added: "And what snobs!" For the breach of convention--he +was an upper-form boy at the time--had not been his sole reason for +wishing to shake off his junior. Behind him, Mahony, when he reached +home, closed the door of one of the largest houses in the most exclusive +square in Dublin. Whereas Purdy lived in a small, common house in a side +street. Visits there had to be paid surreptitiously. + +All the same these were frequent--and for the best of reasons. Mahony +could still see Purdy's plump, red-cheeked English mother, who was as +jolly and happy as her boy, hugging the loaf to her bosom while she cut +round after round of bread and butter and jam, for two cormorant +throats. And the elder boy, long-limbed and lank, all wrist and ankle, +had invariably been the hungrier of the two; for, on the glossy damask +of the big house, often not enough food was set to satisfy the growing +appetites of himself and his sisters.--"Dickybird, can't you see us, +with our backs to the wall, in that little yard of yours, trying who +could take the biggest bite?--or going round the outside: 'Crust first, +and though you burst, By the bones of Davy Jones!' till only a little +island of jam was left?" + +Purdy laughed heartily at these and other incidents fished up by his +friend from the well of the years; but he did not take part in the sport +himself. He had not Mahony's gift for recalling detail: to him past was +past. He only became alive and eager when the talk turned, as it soon +did, on his immediate prospects. + +This time, to his astonishment, Mahony had had no trouble in persuading +Purdy to quit the diggings. In addition, here was the boy now declaring +openly that what he needed, and must have, was a fixed and steadily +paying job. With this decision Mahony was in warm agreement, and +promised all the help that lay in his power. + +But Purdy was not done; he hummed and hawed and fidgeted; he took off +his hat and looked inside it; he wiped his forehead and the nape of his +neck. + +Mahony knew the symptoms. "Come, Dickybird. Spit it out, my boy!" + +"Yes . . . er. . . . Well, the fact is, Dick, I begin to think it's time +I settled down." + +Mahony gave a whistle. "Whew! A lady in the case?" + +"That's the chat. Just oblige yours truly by takin' a squint at this, +will you?" + +He handed his friend a squarely-folded sheet of thinnest blue paper, +with a large purple stamp in one corner, and a red seal on the back. +Opening it Mahony discovered three crossed pages, written in a +delicately pointed, minute, Italian hand. + +He read the letter to the end, deliberately, and with a growing sense of +relief: composition, expression and penmanship, all met with his +approval. "This is the writing of a person of some refinement, my son." + +"Well, er . . . yes," said Purdy. He seemed about to add a further word, +then swallowed it, and went on: "Though, somehow or other, Till's +different to herself, on paper. But she's the best of girls, Dick. Not +one o' your ethereal, die-away, bread-and-butter misses. There's +something OF Till there is, and she's always on for a lark. I never met +such girls for larks as her and 'er sister. The very last time I was +there, they took and hung up . . . me and some other fellers had been +stoppin' up a bit late the night before, and kickin' up a bit of a +shindy, and what did those girls do? They got the barman to come into my +room while I was asleep, and hang a bucket o' water to one of the beams +over the bed. Then I'm blamed if they didn't tie a string from it to my +big toe! I gives a kick, down comes the bucket and half drowns me.-- +Gosh, how those girls did laugh!" + +"H'm!" said Mahony dubiously; while Purdy in his turn chewed the cud of +a pleasant memory.--"Well, I for my part should be glad to see you +married and settled, with a good wife always beside you." + +"That's just the rub," said Purdy, and vigorously scratched his head. + +"Till's a first-class girl as a sweetheart and all that; but when I come +to think of puttin' my head in the noose, from now till doomsday--why +then, somehow, I can't bring myself to pop the question." + +"There's going to be no trifling with the girl's feelings, I hope, sir?" + +"Bosh! But I say, Dick, I wish you'd turn your peepers on 'er and tell +me what you make of 'er. She's AI 'erself, but she's got a mother. . . . +By Job, Dick, if I thought Tilly 'ud ever get like that . . . and +they're exactly the same build, too." + +It would certainly be well for him to inspect Purdy's flame, thought +Mahony. Especially since the anecdote told did not bear out the good +impression left by the letter--went far, indeed, to efface it. Still, +he was loath to extend his absence by spending a night at Geelong, +where, a, it came out, the lady lived; and he replied evasively that it +must depend on the speed with which he could put through his business in +Melbourne. + +Purdy was silent for a time. Then, with a side-glance at his companion, +he volunteered: "I say, Dick, I know some one who'd suit you." + +"The deuce you do!" said Mahony, and burst out laughing. "Miss Tilly's +sister, no doubt?" + +"No, no--not her. Jinn's all right, but she's not your sort. But +they've got a girl living with 'em--a sort o' poor relation, or +something--and she's a horse of quite another colour.--I say, old man, +serious now, have you never thought o' gettin' spliced?" + +Again Mahony laughed. At his companion's words there descended to him, +once more, from some shadowy distance, some pure height, the rose-tinted +vision of the wife-to-be which haunts every man's youth. And, in +ludicrous juxtaposition, he saw the women, the only women he had +encountered since coming to the colony: the hardworking, careworn wives +of diggers; the harridans, sluts and prostitutes who made up the +balance. + +He declined to be drawn. "Is it old Moll Flannigan or one of her +darlints you'd be wishing me luck to, ye spalpeen?" + +"Man, don't I say I've FOUND the wife for you?" Purdy was not jesting, +and did not join in the fresh salvo of laughter with which Mahony +greeted his words. "Oh, blow it, Dick, you're too fastidious--too +damned particular! Say what you like, there's good in all of 'em--even +in old Mother Flannigan 'erself--and 'specially when she's got a drop +inside 'er. Fuddle old Moll a bit, and she'd give you the very shift off +her back.--Don't I thank the Lord, that's all, I'm not built like you! +Why, the woman isn't born I can't get on with. All's fish that comes to +my net.--Oh, to be young, Dick, and to love the girls! To see their +little waists, and their shoulders, and the dimples in their cheeks! See +'em put up their hands to their bonnets, and how their little feet peep +out when the wind blows their petticoats against their legs!" and Purdy +rose in his stirrups and stretched himself, in an excess of wellbeing. + +"You young reprobate!" + +"Bah!--you! You've got water in your veins." + +"Nothing of the sort! Set me among decent women and there's no company I +enjoy more," declared Mahony. + +"Fish-blood, fish-blood!--Dick, it's my belief you were born old." + +Mahony was still young enough to be nettled by doubts cast on his +vitality. Purdy laughed in his sleeve. Aloud he said: "Well, look here, +old man, I'll lay you a wager. I bet you you're not game, when you see +that tulip I've been tellin' you about, to take her in your arms and +kiss her. A fiver on it!" + +"Done!" cried Mahony. "And I'll have it in one note, if you please!" + +"Bravo!" cried Purdy. "Bravo, Dick!" And having gained his end, and +being on a good piece of road between post-and-rail fences, he set spurs +to his horse and cantered off, singing as he went: + +SHE WHEELS A WHEELBARROW, +THROUGH STREETS WIDE AND NARROW, +CRYING COCKLES, AND MUSSELS, +ALIVE, ALIVE-OH! + +But the sun was growing large in the western sky; on the ground to the +left, their failing shadows slanted out lengthwise; those cast by the +horses' bodies were mounted on high spindle-legs. The two men ceased +their trifling, and nudged by the fall of day began to ride at a more +business-like pace, pushing forward through the deep basin of Bacchus's +marsh, and on for miles over wide, treeless plains, to where the road +was joined by the main highway from the north, coming down from Mount +Alexander and the Bendigo. Another hour, and from a gentle eminence the +buildings of Melbourne were visible, the mastheads of the many vessels +riding at anchor in Hobson's Bay. Here, too, the briny scent of the sea, +carrying up over grassy flats, met their nostrils, and set Mahony +hungrily sniffing. The brief twilight came and went, and it was already +night when they urged their weary beasts over the Moonee ponds, a +winding chain of brackish waterholes. The horses shambled along the +broad, hilly tracks of North Melbourne; warily picked their steps +through the city itself. Dingy oil-lamps, set here and there at the +corners of roads so broad that you could hardly see across them, shed +but a meagre light, and the further the riders advanced, the more +difficult became their passage: the streets, in process of laying, were +heaped with stones and intersected by trenches. Finally, dismounting, +they thrust their arms through their bridles, and laboriously covered +the last half-mile of the journey on foot. Having lodged the horses at a +livery-stable, they repaired to a hotel in Little Collins Street. Here +Purdy knew the proprietor, and they were fortunate enough to secure a +small room for the use of themselves alone. + + + + +Chapter V + +Melbourne is built on two hills and the valley that lies between. + +It was over a year since Mahony or Purdy had been last in the capital, +and next morning, on stepping out of the "Adam and Eve," they walked up +the eastern slope to look about them. From the summit of the hill their +view stretched to the waters of the Bay, and its forest of masts. The +nearer foreground was made up of mud flats, through which a sluggish, +coffee-coloured river wound its way to the sea. On the horizon to the +north, the Dandenong Ranges rose storm-blue and distinct, and seemed +momently to be drawing nearer; for a cold wind was blowing, which +promised rain. The friends caught their glimpses of the landscape +between dense clouds of white dust, which blotted everything out for +minutes at a time, and filled eyes, nose, ears with a gritty powder. + +Tiring of this they turned and descended Great Collins Street--a +spacious thoroughfare that dipped into the hollow and rose again, and +was so long that on its western height pedestrians looked no bigger than +ants. In the heart of the city men were everywhere at work, laying gas +and drain-pipes, macadamising, paving, kerbing: no longer would the old +wives' tale be credited of the infant drowned in the deeps of Swanston +Street, or of the bullock which sank, inch by inch, before its owner's +eyes in the Elizabeth Street bog. Massive erections of freestone were +going up alongside here a primitive, canvas-fronted dwelling, there one +formed wholly of galvanised iron. Fashionable shops, two storeys high, +stood next tiny, dilapidated weatherboards. In the roadway, handsome +chaises, landaus, four-in-hands made room for bullock-teams, eight and +ten strong; for tumbrils carrying water or refuse--or worse; for droves +of cattle, mobs of wild colts bound for auction, flocks of sheep on +their way to be boiled down for tallow. Stock-riders and bull-punchers +rubbed shoulders with elegants in skirted coats and shepherd's plaid +trousers, who adroitly skipped heaps of stones and mortar, or crept +along the narrow edging of kerb. + +The visitors from up-country paused to listen to a brass band that +played outside a horse-auction mart; to watch the shooting in a +rifle-gallery. The many decently attired females they met also called for +notice. Not a year ago, and no reputable woman walked abroad oftener +than she could help: now, even at this hour, the streets were starred +with them. Purdy, open-mouthed, his eyes a-dance, turned his head this +way and that, pointed and exclaimed. But then HE had slept like a log, +and felt in his own words "as fit as a fiddle." Whereas Mahony had sat +his horse the whole night through, had never ceased to balance himself +in an imaginary saddle. And when at daybreak he had fallen into a deeper +sleep, he was either reviewing outrageous females on Purdy's behalf, or +accepting wagers to kiss them. + +Hence, diverting as were the sights of the city, he did not come to them +with the naive receptivity of Purdy. It was, besides, hard to detach his +thoughts from the disagreeable affair that had brought him to Melbourne. +And as soon as banks and offices began to take down their shutters, he +hurried off to his interview with the carrying-agent. + +The latter's place of business was behind Great Collins Street, in a +lane reached by a turnpike. Found with some trouble, it proved to be a +rude shanty wedged in between a Chinese laundry and a Chinese eating-house. +The entrance was through a yard in which stood a collection of +rabbit-hutches, while further back gaped a dirty closet. At the sound of +their steps the man they sought emerged, and Mahony could not repress an +exclamation of surprise. When, a little over a twelvemonth ago, he had +first had dealings with him, this Bolliver had been an alert and +respectable man of business. Now he was evidently on the downgrade; and +the cause of the deterioration was advertised in his bloodshot eyeballs +and veinous cheeks. Early as was the hour, he had already been +indulging: his breath puffed sour. Mahony prepared to state the object +of his visit in no uncertain terms. But his preliminaries were cut short +by a volley of abuse. The man accused him point-blank of having been +privy to the rascally drayman's fraud and of having hoped, by lying low, +to evade his liability. Mahony lost his temper, and vowed that he would +have Bolliver up for defamation of character. To which the latter +retorted that the first innings in a court of law would be his: he had +already put the matter in the hands of his attorney. This was the last +straw. Purdy had to intervene and get Mahony away. They left the agent +shaking his fist after them and cursing the bloody day on which he'd +ever been fool enough to do a deal with a bloody gentleman. + +At the corner of the street the friends paused for a hasty conference. +Mahony was for marching off to take the best legal advice the city had +to offer. But Purdy disapproved. Why put himself to so much trouble, +when he had old Ocock's recommendation to his lawyer-son in his coat +pocket? What, in the name of Leary-cum-Fitz, was the sense of making an +enemy for life of the old man, his next-door neighbour, and a good +customer to boot? + +These counsels prevailed, and they turned their steps towards Chancery +Lane, where was to be found every variety of legal practitioner from +barrister to scrivener. Having matched the house-number and descried the +words: "Mr. Henry Ocock, Conveyancer and Attorney, Commissioner of +Affidavits," painted black on two dusty windows, they climbed a wooden +stair festooned with cobwebs, to a landing where an injunction to: "Push +and Enter!" was, rudely inked on a sheet of paper and affixed to a door. + +Obeying, they passed into a dingy little room, the entire furnishing of +which consisted of a couple of deal tables, with a chair to each. These +were occupied by a young man and a boy, neither of whom rose at their +entrance. The lad was cutting notches in a stick and whistling +tunefully; the clerk, a young fellow in the early twenties, who had a +mop of flaming red hair and small-slit white-lashed eyes, looked at the +strangers, but without lifting his head: his eyes performed the +necessary motion. + +Mahony desired to know if he had the pleasure of addressing Mr. Henry +Ocock. In reply the red-head gave a noiseless laugh, which he +immediately quenched by clapping his hand over his mouth, and shutting +one eye at his junior said: "No--nor yet the Shar o' Persia, nor +Alphybetical Foster!--What can I do for you, governor?" + +"You can have the goodness to inform Mr. Ocock that I wish to see him!" +flashed back Mahony. + +"Singin' til-ril-i-tum-tum-dee-ay!--Now then, Mike, me child, toddle!" + +With patent reluctance the boy ceased his whittling, and dawdled across +the room to an inner door through which he vanished, having first let +his knuckles bump, as if by chance, against the wood of the panel. A +second later he reappeared. "Boss's engaged." But Mahony surprised a +lightning sign between the pair. + +"No, sir, I decline to state my business to anyone but Mr. Ocock +himself!" he declared hotly, in response to the red-haired man's +invitation to "get it off his chest." "If you choose to find out when he +will be at liberty, I will wait so long--no longer." + +As the office-boy had somehow failed to hit his seat on his passage to +the outer door, there was nothing left for the clerk to do but himself +to undertake the errand. He lounged up from his chair, and, in his case +without even the semblance of a knock, squeezed through a foot wide +aperture, in such a fashion that the two strangers should not catch a +glimpse of what was going on inside. But his voice came to them through +the thin partition. "Oh, just a couple o' stony-broke Paddylanders." +Mahony, who had seized the opportunity to dart an angry glance at Purdy, +which should say: "This is what one gets by coming to your second-rate +pettifoggers!" now let his eyes rest on his friend and critically +detailed the latter's appearance. The description fitted to a nicety. +Purdy did in truth look down on his luck. Unkempt, bearded to the eyes, +there he stood clutching his shapeless old cabbage-tree, in mud-stained +jumper and threadbare smalls--the very spit of the unsuccessful digger. +Well might they be suspected of not owning the necessary to pay their +way! + +"All serene, mister! The boss'ull take you on." + +The sanctum was a trifle larger than the outer room, but almost equally +bare; half-a-dozen deed-boxes were piled up in one corner. Stalking in +with his chin in the air, Mahony found himself in the presence of a man +of his own age, who sat absorbed in the study of a document. At their +entry two beady grey eyes lifted to take a brief but thorough survey, +and a hand with a pencil in it pointed to the single empty chair. Mahony +declined to translate the gesture and remained standing. + +Under the best of circumstances it irked him to be kept waiting. Here, +following on the clerk's saucy familiarity, the wilful delay made his +gorge rise. For a few seconds he fumed in silence; then, his patience +exhausted, he burst out: "My time, sir, is as precious as your own. With +your permission, I will take my business elsewhere." + +At these words, and at the tone in which they were spoken, the lawyer's +head shot up as if he had received a blow under the chin. Again he +narrowed his eyes at the couple. And this time he laid the document from +him and asked suavely: "What can I do for you?" + +The change in his manner though slight was unmistakable. Mahony had a +nice ear for such refinements, and responded to the shade of difference +with the promptness of one who had been on the watch for it. His +irritation fell; he was ready on the instant to be propitiated. Putting +his hat aside he sat down, and having introduced himself, made reference +to Ballarat and his acquaintance with the lawyer's father: "Who directed +me to you, sir, for advice on a vexatious affair, in which I have had +the misfortune to become involved." + +With a "Pray be seated!" Ocock rose and cleared a chair for Purdy. +Resuming his seat he joined his hands, and wound them in and out. "I +think you may take it from me that no case is so unpromising but what we +shall be able to find a loophole." + +Mahony thanked him--with a touch of reserve. "I trust you will still be +of that opinion when you have heard the facts." And went on: "Myself, I +do not doubt it. I am not a rich man, but serious though the monetary +loss would be to me, I should settle the matter out of court, were I not +positive that I had right on my side." To which Ocock returned a quick: +"Oh, quite so . . . of course." + +Like his old father, he was a short, heavily built man; but there the +likeness ended. He had a high, domed forehead, above a thin, hooked +nose. His skin was of an almost Jewish pallor. Fringes of straight, +jet-black hair grew down the walls of his cheeks and round his chin, +meeting beneath it. The shaven upper lid was long and flat, with no +central markings, and helped to form a mouth that had not much more shape +or expression than a slit cut by a knife in a sheet of paper. The chin was +bare to the size of a crown-piece; and, both while he spoke and while he +listened to others speaking, the lawyer caressed this patch with his +finger-tips; so that in the course of time it had arrived at a state of +high polish--like the shell of an egg. + +The air with which he heard his new client out was of a non-committal +kind; and Mahony, having talked his first heat off, grew chilled by the +wet blanket of Ocock's silence. There was nothing in this of the frank +responsiveness with which your ordinary mortal lends his ear. The brain +behind the dome was, one might be sure, adding, combining, comparing, +and drawing its own conclusions. Why should lawyers, he wondered, treat +those who came to them like children, advancing only in so far as it +suited them out of the darkness where they housed among strangely worded +paragraphs and obscure formulas?--But these musings were cut short. +Having fondled his chin for a further moment, Ocock looked up and put a +question. And, while he could not but admire the lawyer's acumen, this +did not lessen Mahony's discomfort. All unguided, it went straight for +what he believed to be the one weak spot in his armour. It related to +the drayman. Contrary to custom Mahony had, on this occasion, himself +recommended the driver. And, as he admitted it, his ears rang again with +the plaints of his stranded fellow-countryman, a wheedler from the South +Country, off whose tongue the familiar brogue had dripped like honey. +His recommendation, he explained, had been made out of charity; he had +not forced the agent to engage the man; and it would surely be a gross +injustice if he alone were to be held responsible. + +To his relief Ocock did not seem to attach importance to the fact, but +went on to ask whether any written agreement had existed between the +parties. "No writing? H'm! So . . . so!" To read his thoughts was an +impossibility; but as he proceeded with his catechism it was easy to see +how his interest in the case grew. He began to treat it tenderly; warmed +to it, as an artist to his work; and Mahony's spirits rose in +consequence. + +Having selected a number of minor points that would tell in their +favour, Ocock dilated upon the libellous aspersion that had been cast on +Mahony's good faith. "My experience has invariably been this, Mr. +Mahony: people who suggest that kind of thing, and accuse others of it, +are those who are accustomed to make use of such means themselves. In +this case, there may have been no goods at all--the thing may prove to +have been a put-up job from beginning to end." + +But his hearer's start of surprise was too marked to be overlooked. +"Well, let us take the existence of the goods for granted. But might +they not, being partly of a perishable nature, have gone bad or +otherwise got spoiled on the road, and not have been in a fit condition +for you to receive at your end?" + +This was credible; Mahony nodded his assent. He also added, +gratuitously, that he had before now been obliged to reclaim on casks of +mouldy mess-pork. At which Ocock ceased coddling his chin to point a +straight forefinger at him, with a triumphant: "You see!"--But Purdy +who, sick and tired of the discussion, had withdrawn to the window to +watch the rain zig-zag in runlets down the dusty panes, and hiss and +spatter on the sill; Purdy puckered his lips to a sly and soundless +whistle. + +The interview at an end, Ocock mentioned, in his frigidly urbane way, +that he had recently been informed there was an excellent opening for a +firm of solicitors in Ballarat: could Mr. Mahony, as a resident, confirm +the report? Mahony regretted his ignorance, but spoke in praise of the +Golden City and its assured future.--"This would be most welcome news +to your father, sir. I can picture his satisfaction on hearing it." + +--"Golly, Dick, that's no mopoke!" was Purdy's comment as they emerged +into the rain-swept street. "A crafty devil, if ever I see'd one." + +"Henry Ocock seems to me to be a singularly able man," replied Mahony +drily. To his thinking, Purdy had cut a poor figure during the visit: he +had said no intelligent word, but had lounged lumpishly in his chair-- +the very picture of the country man come up to the metropolis--and, +growing tired of this, had gone like a restless child to thrum his +fingers on the panes. + +"Oh, you bet! He'll slither you through." + +"What? Do you insinuate there's any need for slithering . . as you call +it?" cried Mahony. + +"Why, Dick, old man. . . . And as long as he gets you through, what does +it matter?" + +"It matters to me, sir!" + +The rain, a tropical deluge, was over by the time they reached the +hollow. The sun shone again, hot and sticky, and people were venturing +forth from their shelters to wade through beds of mud, or to cross, on +planks, the deep, swift rivers formed by the open drains. There were +several such cloud-bursts in the course of the afternoon; and each time +the refuse of the city was whirled past on the flood, to be left as an +edging to the footpaths when the water went down. + +Mahony spent the rest of the day in getting together a fresh load of +goods. For, whether he lost or won his suit, the store had to be +restocked without delay. + +That evening towards eight o'clock the two men turned out of the Lowther +Arcade. The night was cold, dark and wet; and they had wound comforters +round their bare throats. They were on their way to the Mechanics' Hall, +to hear a lecture on Mesmerism. Mahony had looked forward to this all +through the sorry job of choosing soaps and candles. The subject piqued +his curiosity. It was the one drop of mental stimulant he could hope to +extract from his visit. The theatre was out of the question: if none of +the actors happened to be drunk, a fair proportion of the audience was +sure to be. + +Part of his pleasure this evening was due to Purdy having agreed to +accompany him. It was always a matter of regret to Mahony that, outside +the hobnob of daily life, he and his friend had so few interests in +common; that Purdy should rest content with the coarse diversions of the +ordinary digger. + +Then, from the black shadows of the Arcade, a woman's form detached +itself, and a hand was laid on Purdy's arm. + +"Shout us a drink, old pal!" + +Mahony made a quick, repellent movement of the shoulder. But Purdy, some +vagrom fancy quickened in him, either by the voice, which was not +unrefined, or by the stealthiness of the approach, Purdy turned to look. + +"Come, come, my boy. We've no time to lose." + +Without raising her pleasant voice, the woman levelled a volley of abuse +at Mahony, then muttered a word in Purdy's ear. + +"Just half a jiff, Dick," said Purdy. "Or go ahead.--I'll make up on +you." + +For a quarter of an hour Mahony aired his heels in front of a +public-house. Then he gave it up, and went on his way. But his pleasure +was damped: the inconsiderateness with which Purdy could shake him off, +always had a disconcerting effect on him. To face the matter squarely: +the friendship between them did not mean as much to Purdy as to him; the +sudden impulse that had made the boy relinquish a promising clerkship to +emigrate in his wake--into this he had read more than it would hold.-- +And, as he picked his muddy steps, Mahony agreed with himself that the +net result, for him, of Purdy's coming to the colony, had been to saddle +him with a new responsibility. It was his lot for ever to be helping the +lad out of tight places. Sometimes it made him feel unnecessarily +bearish. For Purdy had the knack, common to sunny, improvident natures, +of taking everything that was done for him for granted. His want of +delicacy in this respect was distressing. Yet, in spite of it all, it +was hard to bear him a grudge for long together. A well-meaning young +beggar if ever there was one! That very day how faithfully he had stuck +at his side, assisting at dull discussions and duller purchasings, +without once obtruding his own concerns.--And here Mahony remembered +their talk on the ride to town. Purdy had expressed the wish to settle +down and take a wife. A poor friend that would be who did not back him +up in this intention. + +As he sidled into one of the front benches of a half-empty hall--the +mesmerist, a corpse-like man in black, already surveyed its thinness +from the platform with an air of pained surprise--Mahony decided that +Purdy should have his chance. The heavy rains of the day, and the +consequent probable flooding of the Ponds and the Marsh, would serve as +an excuse for a change of route. He would go and have a look at Purdy's +sweetheart; would ride back to the diggings by way of Geelong. + + + + +Chapter VI + +In a whitewashed parlour of "Beamish's Family Hotel" some few miles +north of Geelong, three young women, in voluminous skirts and with their +hair looped low over their ears, sat at work. Books lay open on the +table before two of them; the third was making a bookmark. Two were +fair, plump, rosy, and well over twenty; the third, pale-skinned and +dark, was still a very young girl. She it was who stitched magenta +hieroglyphics on a strip of perforated cardboard. + +"Do lemme see, Poll," said the eldest of the trio, and laid down her +pen. "You 'AVE bin quick about it, my dear." + +Polly, the brunette, freed her needle of silk and twirled the bookmark +by its ribbon ends. Spinning, the mystic characters united to form the +words: "Kiss me quick." + +Her companions tittered. "If ma didn't know for certain 'twas meant for +your brother John, she'd never 'ave let you make it," said the second +blonde, whose name was Jinny. + +"Girls, what a lark it 'ud be to send it up to Purdy Smith, by Ned!" +said the first speaker. + +Polly blushed. "Fy, Tilly! That wouldn't be ladylike." + +Tilly's big bosom rose and fell in a sigh. "What's a lark never is." + +Jinny giggled, agreeably scandalized: "What things you do say. Till! +Don't let ma 'ear you, that's all." + +"Ma be blowed!--'Ow does this look now, Polly?" And across the wax-cloth +Tilly pushed a copybook, in which she had laboriously inscribed a +prim maxim the requisite number of times. + +Polly laid down her work and knitted her brows over the page. + +"Well . . . it's better than the last one, Tilly," she said gently, +averse to hurting her pupil's feelings. "But still not quite good +enough. The f's, look, should be more like this." And taking a steel pen +she made several long-tailed f's, in a tiny, pointed hand. + +Tilly yielded an ungrudging admiration. "'Ow well you do it, Poll! But I +HATE writing. If only ma weren't so set on it!" + +"You'll never be able to write yourself to a certain person, 'oos name I +won't mention, if you don't 'urry up and learn," said Jinny, looking +sage. + +"What's the odds! We've always got Poll to write for us," gave back +Tilly, and lazily stretched out a large, plump hand to recover the +copybook. "A certain person'll never know--or not till it's too late." + +"Here, Polly dear," said Jinny, and held out a book. "I know it now." + +Again Polly put down her embroidery. She took the book. "Plough!" said +she. + +"Plough?" echoed Jinny vaguely, and turned a pair of soft, cow-like +brown eyes on the blowflies sitting sticky and sleepy round the walls of +the room. "Wait a jiff . . . lemme think! Plough? Oh, yes, I know. P-l +. . . ." + +"P-l-o" prompted Polly, the speller coming to a full stop. + +" P-l-o-w!" shot out Jinny, in triumph. + +"Not QUITE right," said Polly. "It's g-h, Jinny: p-l-o-u-g-h." + +"Oh, that's what I meant. I knew it right enough." + +"Well, now, trough!" + +"Trough?" repeated Jinny, in the same slow, vacant way. + +"Trough? Wait, lemme think a minute. T-r-o. . . ." + +Polly's lips all but formed the "u," to prevent the "f" she felt +impending. "I'm afraid you'll have to take it again, Jinny dear," she +said reluctantly, as nothing further was forthcoming. + +"Oh, no, Poll. T-r-o-" began Jinny with fresh vigour. But before she +could add a fourth to the three letters, a heavy foot pounded down the +passage, and a stout woman, out of breath, her cap-bands flying, came +bustling in and slammed the door. + +"Girls, girls, now whatever d'ye think? 'Ere's Purdy Smith come ridin' +inter the yard, an' another gent with 'im. Scuttle along now, an' put +them books away!--Tilda, yer net's 'alf 'angin' off--you don't want +yer sweet-'eart to see you all untidy like that, do you?--'Elp 'em, +Polly my dear, and be quick about it!--H'out with yer sewin', chicks!" + +Sprung up from their seats the three girls darted to and fro. The +telltale spelling and copy-books were flung into the drawer of the +chiffonier, and the key was turned on them. Polly, her immodest sampler +safely hidden at the bottom of her workbox, was the most composed of the +three; and while locks were smoothed and collars adjusted in the +adjoining bedroom, she remained behind to look out thimbles, needles and +strips of plain sewing, and to lay them naturally about the table. + +The blonde sisters reappeared, all aglow with excitement. Tilly, in +particular, was in a sad flutter. + +"Girls, I simply CAN'T face 'im in 'ere!" she declared. "It was 'ere, in +this very room, that 'e first--you know what!" + +"Nor can I," cried Jinny, catching the fever. + +"Feel my 'eart, 'ow it beats," said her sister, pressing her hands, one +over the other, to her full left breast. + +"Mine's every bit as bad," averred Jinny. + +"I believe I shall 'ave the palpitations and faint away, if I stop +'ere." + +Polly was genuinely concerned. "I'll run and call mother back." + +"No, I tell you what: let's 'ide!" cried Tilly, recovering. + +Jinny wavered. "But will they find us?" + +"Duffer! Of course. Ma'll give 'em the 'int.--Come on!" + +Suiting the action to the word, and imitated by her sister, she +scrambled over the window sill to the verandah. Polly found herself +alone. Her conscientious scrupling: "But mother may be cross!" had +passed unheeded. Now, she, too, fell into a flurry. She could not remain +there, by herself, to meet two young men, one of whom was a stranger: +steps and voices were already audible at the end of the passage. And so, +since there was nothing else for it, she clambered after her friends-- +though with difficulty; for she was not very tall. + +This was why, when Mrs. Beamish flourished open the door, exclaiming in +a hearty tone: "An' 'ere you'll find 'em, gents--sittin' at their +needles, busy as bees!" the most conspicuous object in the room was a +very neat leg, clad in a white stocking and black prunella boot, which +was just being drawn up over the sill. It flashed from sight; and the +patter of running feet beat the floor of the verandah. + +"Ha, ha, too late! The birds have flown," laughed Purdy, and smacked his +thigh. + +"Well, I declare, an' so they 'ave--the NAUGHTY creatures!" exclaimed +Mrs. Beamish in mock dismay. "But trust you, Mr. Smith, for sayin' the +right thing. Jus' exackly like birds they are--so shy an' scared-like. +But I'll give you the 'int, gents. They'll not be far away. Jus' you +show 'em two can play at that game.--Mr. S., you know the h'arbour!" + +"Should say I do! Many's the time I've anchored there," cried Purdy with +a guffaw. "Come, Dick!" And crossing to the window he straddled over the +frame, and disappeared. + +Reluctantly Mahony followed him. + +From the verandah they went down into the vegetable-garden, where the +drab and tangled growths that had outlived the summer were beaten flat +by the recent rains. At the foot of the garden, behind a clump of +gooseberry-bushes, stood an arbour formed of a yellow buddleia. No trace +of a petticoat was visible, so thick was the leafage; but a loud +whispering and tittering betrayed the fugitives. + +At the apparition of the young men, who stooped to the low entrance, +there was a cascade of shrieks. + +"Oh, lor, 'OW you frightened me! 'Owever did you know we were 'ere?" + +"You wicked fellow! Get away, will you! I 'ate the very sight of you!"-- +this from Tilly, as Purdy, his hands on her hips, gave her a smacking +kiss. + +The other girls feared a like greeting; there were more squeaks and +squeals, and some ineffectual dives for the doorway. Purdy spread out +his arms. "Hi, look out, stop 'em, Dick! Now then, man, here's your +chance!" + +Mahony stood blinking; it was dusk inside, after the dazzle of the sun. +At this reminder of the foolish bet he had taken, he hurriedly seized +the young woman who was next him, and embraced her. It chanced to be +Jinny. She screamed, and made a feint of feeling mortally outraged. +Mahony had to dodge a box on the ears. + +But Purdy burst into a horselaugh, and held his sides. Without knowing +why, Tilly joined in, and Jinny, too, was infected. When Purdy could +speak, he blurted out: "Dick, you fathead!--you jackass!--you've +mugged the wrong one." + +At this clownish mirth, Mahony felt the blood boil up over ears and +temples. For an instant he stood irresolute. Did he admit the blunder, +his victim would be hurt. Did he deny it, he would save his own face at +the expense of the other young woman's feelings. So, though he could +have throttled Purdy he put a bold front on the matter. + +"CARPE DIEM is my motto, my boy! I intend to make both young ladies pay +toll." + +His words were the signal for a fresh scream and flutter: the third +young person had escaped, and was flying down the path. This called for +chase and capture. She was not very agile but she knew the ground, +which, outside the garden, was rocky and uneven. For a time, she had +Mahony at vantage; his heart was not in the game: in cutting undignified +capers among the gooseberry-bushes he felt as foolish as a performing +dog. Then, however, she caught her toe in her dress and stumbled. He +could not disregard the opportunity; he advanced upon her. + +But two beseeching hands fended him off. "No . . . no. Please . . . oh, +PLEASE, don't!" + +This was no catchpenny coquetry; it was a genuine dread of undue +familiarity. A kindred trait in Mahony's own nature rose to meet it. + +"Certainly not, if it is disagreeable to you. Shall we shake hands +instead?" + +Two of the blackest eyes he had ever seen were raised to his, and a +flushed face dimpled. They shook hands, and he offered his arm. + +Halfway to the arbour, they met the others coming to find them. The +girls bore diminutive parasols; and Purdy, in rollicking spirits, Tilly +on one arm, Jinny on the other, held Polly's above his head. On the +appearance of the laggards, Jinny, who had put her own interpretation on +the misplaced kiss, prepared to free her arm; but Purdy, winking at his +friend, squeezed it to his side and held her prisoner. + +Tilly buzzed a word in his ear. + +"Yes, by thunder!" he ejaculated; and letting go of his companions, he +spun round like a ballet-dancer. "Ladies! Let me introduce to you my +friend, Dr. Richard Townshend-Mahony, F.R.C.S., M.D., Edinburgh, at +present proprietor of the 'Diggers' Emporium,' Dead Dog Hill, Ballarat. +--Dick, my hearty, Miss Tilly Beamish, world-famed for her sauce; Miss +Jinny, renowned for her skill in casting the eyes of sheep; and, last +but not least, pretty little Polly Perkins, alias Miss Polly Turnham, +whose good deeds put those of Dorcas to the blush." + +The Misses Beamish went into fits of laughter, and Tilly hit Purdy over +the back with her parasol. + +But the string of letters had puzzled them, roused their curiosity. + +" What'n earth do they mean?--Gracious! So clever! It makes me feel +quite queer." + +"Y'ought to 'ave told us before 'and, Purd, so's we could 'ave studied +up." + +However, a walk to a cave was under discussion, and Purdy urged them on. +"Phoebus is on the wane, girls. And it's going to be damn cold to-night." + +Once more with the young person called Polly as companion, Mahony +followed after. He walked in silence, listening to the rattle of the +three in front. At best he was but a poor hand at the kind of repartee +demanded of their swains by these young women; and to-day his slender +talent failed him altogether, crushed by the general tone of vulgar +levity. Looking over at the horizon, which swam in a kind of gold-dust +haze below the sinking sun, he smiled thinly to himself at Purdy's ideas +of wiving. + +Reminded he was not alone by feeling the hand on his arm tremble, he +glanced down at his companion; and his eye was arrested by a neatly +parted head, of the glossiest black imaginable. + +He pulled himself together. "Your cousins are excellent walkers." + +"Oh, yes, very. But they are not my cousins." + +Mahony pricked up his ears. "But you live here?" + +"Yes. I help moth . . . Mrs. Beamish in the house." + +But as if, with this, she had said too much, she grew tongue-tied again; +and there was nothing more to be made of her. Taking pity on her +timidity, Mahony tried to put her at ease by talking about himself. He +described his life on the diggings and the straits to which he was at +times reduced: the buttons affixed to his clothing by means of +gingerbeer-bottle wire; his periodic onslaughts on sock-darning; the +celebrated pudding it had taken him over four hours to make. And Polly, +listening to him, forgot her desire to run away. Instead, she could not +help laughing at the tales of his masculine shiftlessness. But as soon +as they came in view of the others, Tilly and Purdy sitting under one +parasol on a rock by the cave, Jinny standing and looking out rather +aggressively after the loiterers, she withdrew her arm. + +"Moth . . . Mrs. Beamish will need me to help her with tea. And . . . +and WOULD you please walk back with Jinny?" + +Before he could reply, she had turned and was hurrying away. + +They got home from the cave at sundown, he with the ripe Jinny hanging a +dead weight on his arm, to find tea spread in the private parlour. The +table was all but invisible under its load; and their hostess looked as +though she had been parboiled on her own kitchen fire. She sat and +fanned herself with a sheet of newspaper while, time and again, +undaunted by refusals, she pressed the good things upon her guests. +There were juicy beefsteaks piled high with rings of onion, and a +barracoota, and a cold leg of mutton. There were apple-pies and jam-tarts, +a dish of curds-and-whey and a jug of custard. Butter and bread +were fresh and new; scones and cakes had just left the oven; and the +great cups of tea were tempered by pure, thick cream. + +To the two men who came from diggers' fare: cold chop for breakfast, +cold chop for dinner and cold chop for tea: the meal was little short of +a banquet; and few words were spoken in its course. But the moment +arrived when they could eat no more, and when even Mrs. Beamish ceased +to urge them. Pipes and pouches were produced; Polly and Jinny rose to +collect the plates, Tilly and her beau to sit on the edge of the +verandah: they could be seen in silhouette against the rising moon, +Tilly's head drooping to Purdy's shoulder. + +Mrs. Beamish looked from them to Mahony with a knowing smile, and +whispered behind her hand: "I do wish those two 'ud 'urry up an' make up +their minds, that I do! I'd like to see my Tilda settled. No offence +meant to young Smith. 'E's the best o' good company. But sometimes . . . +well, I cud jus' knock their 'eads together when they sit so close, an' +say: come, give over yer spoonin' an' get to business! Either you want +one another or you don't.--I seen you watchin' our Polly, Mr. Mahony" +--she made Mahony wince by stressing the second syllable of his name. +"Bless you, no--no relation whatsoever. She just 'elps a bit in the +'ouse, an' is company for the girls. We tuck 'er in a year ago--'er own +relations 'ad played 'er a dirty trick. Mustn't let 'er catch me sayin' +so, though; she won't 'ear a word against 'em, and that's as it should +be." + +Looking round, and finding Polly absent from the room, she went on to +tell Mahony how Polly's eldest brother, a ten years' resident in +Melbourne, had sent to England for the girl on her leaving school, to +come out and assist in keeping his house. And how an elder sister, who +was governessing in Sydney, had chosen just this moment to throw up her +post and return to quarter herself upon the brother. + +"An' so when Polly gets 'ere--a little bit of a thing in short frocks, +in charge of the capt'n--there was no room for 'er, an' she 'ad to look +about 'er for somethin' else to do. We tuck 'er in, an', I will say, +I've never regretted it. Indeed I don't know now, 'ow we ever got on +without 'er.--Yes, it's you I'm talkin' about, miss, singin' yer +praises, an' you needn't get as red as if you'd bin up to mischief! +Pa'll say as much for you, too." + +"That I will!" said Mr. Beamish, opening his mouth for the first time +except to put food in it. "That I will," and he patted Polly's hand." +The man as gits Polly'll git a treasure." + +Polly blushed, after the helpless, touching fashion of very young +creatures: the blood stained her cheeks, mounted to her forehead, spread +in a warm wave over neck and ears. To spare her, Mahony turned his head +and looked out of the window. He would have liked to say: Run away, +child, run away, and don't let them see your confusion. Polly, however, +went conscientiously about her task, and only left the room when she had +picked up her full complement of plates.--But she did not appear again +that night. + +Deserted even by Mrs. Beamish, the two men pushed back their chairs from +the table and drew tranquilly at their pipes. + +The innkeeper proved an odd, misty sort of fellow, exceedingly backward +at declaring himself; it was as though each of his heavy words had to be +fetched from a distance. "No doubt about it, it's the wife that wears +the breeches," was Mahony's inward comment. And as one after another of +his well-meant remarks fell flat: "Become almost a deaf-mute, it would +seem, under the eternal female clacking." + +But for each mortal there exists at least one theme to fire him. In the +case of Beamish this turned out to be the Land Question. Before the gold +discovery he had been a bush shepherd, he told Mahony, and, if he had +called the tune, he would have lived and died one. But the wife had had +ambitions, the children were growing up, and every one knew what it was +when women got a maggot in their heads. There had been no peace for him +till he had chucked his twelve-year-old job and joined the rush to Mount +Alexander. But at heart he had remained a bushman; and he was now all on +the side of the squatters in their tussle with the Crown. He knew a bit, +he'd make bold to say, about the acreage needed in certain districts per +head of sheep; he could tell a tale of the risks and mischances +squatting involved: "If t'aint fire it's flood, an' if the water passes +you by it's the scab or the rot." To his thinking, the government's +attempt to restrict the areas of sheep-runs, and to give effect to the +"fourteen-year-clause" which limited the tenure, were acts of folly. The +gold supply would give out as suddenly as it had begun; but sheep would +graze there till the crack of doom--the land was fit for nothing else. + +Mahony thought this point of view lopsided. No new country could hope to +develop and prosper without a steady influx of the right kind of +population and this the colony would never have, so long as the +authorities, by refusing to sell them land, made it impossible for +immigrants to settle there. Why, America was but three thousand miles +distant from the old country, compared with Australia's thirteen +thousand, and in America land was to be had in plenty at five shillings +per acre. As to Mr. Beamish's idea of the gold giving out, the +geological formation of the goldfields rendered that improbable. He +sympathised with the squatters, who naturally enough believed their +rights to the land inalienable; but a government worthy of the name must +legislate with an eye to the future, not for the present alone. + +Their talk was broken by long gaps. In these, the resonant voice of Mrs. +Beamish could be heard rebuking and directing her two handmaidens. + +"Now then, Jinny, look alive, an' don't ack like a dyin' duck in a +thunderstorm, or you'll never get back to do YOUR bit o' spoonin'!-- +Save them bones, Polly. Never waste an atom, my chuck--remember that, +when you've got an 'ouse of your own! No, girls, I always says, through +their stomachs, that's the shortcut to their 'earts. The rest's on'y +fal-de-lal-ing."--On the verandah, in face of the vasty, star-spangled +night, Tilly's head had found its resting-place, and an arm lay round +her waist. + +"I shall make 'im cut off 'is beard first thing," said Jinny that night: +she was sitting half-undressed on the side of a big bed, which the three +girls shared with one another. + +"Um! just you wait and see if it's as easy as you think," retorted Tilly +from her pillow. Again Purdy had let slip a golden chance to put the +decisive question; and Tilly's temper was short in consequence. + +"Mrs. Dr. Mahony . . . though I do wonder 'ow 'e ever keeps people from +saying Ma-HON-y," said Jinny dreamily. She, too, had spent some time in +star-gazing, and believed she had ground for hope. + +"Just listen to 'er, will you!" said Tilly angrily." Upon my word, +Jinny Beamish, if one didn't know you 'ad the 'abit of marrying yourself +off to every fresh cove you meet, one 'ud say you was downright bold!" + +"YOU needn't talk! Every one can see you're as mad as can be because you +can't bring your old dot-and-go-one to the scratch." + +"Oh, hush, Jinny" said Polly, grieved at this thrust into Tilly's open +wound. + +"Well, it's true.--Oh, look 'ere now, there's not a drop o' water in +this blessed jug again. 'Oo's week is it to fill it? Tilly B., it's +yours!" + +"Serves you right. You can fetch it yourself." + +"Think I see myself!" + +Polly intervened. "I'll go for it, Jinny." + +"What a little duck you are, Poll! But you shan't go alone. I'll carry +the candle." + +Tying on a petticoat over her bedgown, Polly took the ewer, and with +Jinny as torch-bearer set forth. There was still some noise in the +public part of the house, beside the bar; but the passage was bare and +quiet. The girls crept mousily past the room occupied by the two young +men, and after several false alarms and suppressed chirps reached the +back door, and filled the jug at the tap of the galvanised-iron tank. + +The return journey was not so successful. Just as they got level with +the visitors' room, they heard feet crossing the floor. Polly started; +the water splashed over the neck of the jug, and fell with a loud plop. +At this Jinny lost her head and ran off with the candle. Polly, in a +panic of fright, dived into the pantry with her burden, and crouched +down behind a tub of fermenting gingerbeer.--And sure enough, a minute +after, the door of the room opposite was flung open and a pair of +jackboots landed in the passage. + +Nor was this the worst: the door was not shut again but remained ajar. +Through the chink, Polly, shrunk to her smallest--what if one of them +should feel hungry, and come into the pantry and discover her?--Polly +heard Purdy say with appalling loudness: "Oh, go on, old man-don't jaw +so!" He then seemed to plunge his head in the basin, for it was with a +choke and a splutter that he next inquired: "And what did you think of +the little 'un? Wasn't I right?" + +There was the chink of coins handled, and the other voice answered: +"Here's what I think. Take your money, my boy, and be done with it!" + +"Dick!--Great Snakes! Why, damn it all, man, you don't mean to tell me. +. . ." + +"And understand, sir, in future, that I do not make bets where a lady is +concerned." + +"Oh, I know--only on the Tilly-Jinny-sort. And yet good Lord, Dick!"-- +the rest was drowned in a bawl of laughter. + +Under cover of it Polly took to her heels and fled, regardless of the +open door, or the padding of her bare feet on the boards. + +Without replying to the astonished Jinny's query in respect of the +water, she climbed over Tilly to her place beside the wall, and shutting +her eyes very tight, drew the sheet over her face: it felt as though it +would never be cool again.--Hence, Jinny, agreeably wakeful, was forced +to keep her thoughts to herself; for if you lie between two people, one +of whom is in a bad temper, and the other fast asleep, you might just as +well be alone in bed. + +Next morning Polly alleged a headache and did not appear at breakfast. +Only Jinny and Tilly stood on the verandah of romantic memories, and +ruefully waved their handkerchiefs, keeping it up till even the forms of +horses were blurred in the distance. + + + + +Chapter VII + +His tent-home had never seemed so comfortless. He ended his solitary +ride late at night and wet to the skin; his horse had cast a shoe far +from any smithy. Long Jim alone came to the door to greet him. The +shopman, on whose doltish honesty Mahony would have staked his head, had +profited by his absence to empty the cash-box and go off on the spree.-- +Even one of the cats had met its fate in an old shaft, where its corpse +still swam. + +The following day, as a result of exposure and hard riding, Mahony was +attacked by dysentery; and before he had recovered, the goods arrived +from Melbourne. They had to be unloaded, at some distance from the +store, conveyed there, got under cover, checked off and arranged. This +was carried out in sheets of cold rain, which soaked the canvas walls +and made it doubly hard to get about the clay tracks that served as +streets. As if this were not enough, the river in front of the house +rose--rose, and in two twos was over its banks--and he and Long Jim +spent a night in their clothes, helping neighbours less fortunately +placed to move their belongings into safety. + +The lion's share of this work fell on him. Long Jim still carried his +arm in a sling, and was good for nothing but to guard the store and +summon Mahony on the appearance of customers. Since his accident, too, +the fellow had suffered from frequent fits of colic or cramp, and was +for ever slipping off to the township to find the spirits in which his +employer refused to deal. For the unloading and warehousing of the +goods, it was true, old Ocock had loaned his sons; but the strict watch +Mahony felt bound to keep over this pretty pair far outweighed what +their help was worth to him. + +Now it was Sunday evening, and for the first time for more than a week +he could call his soul his own again. He stood at the door and watched +those of his neighbours who were not Roman Catholics making for church +and chapel, to which half a dozen tinkly bells invited them. The weather +had finally cleared up, and a goodly number of people waded past him +through the mire. Among them, in seemly Sabbath dress, went Ocock, with +his two black sheep at heel. The old man was a rigid Methodist, and at a +recent prayer-meeting had been moved to bear public witness to his +salvation. This was no doubt one reason why the young scapegrace Tom's +almost simultaneous misconduct had been so bitter a pill for him to +swallow: while, through God's mercy, he was become an exemplar to the +weaker brethren, a son of his made his name to stink in the nostrils of +the reputable community. Mahony liked to believe that there was good in +everybody, and thought the intolerant harshness which the boy was +subjected would defeat its end. Yet it was open to question if clemency +would have answered better. "Bad eggs, the brace of them!" had been his +own verdict, after a week's trial of the lads. One would not, the other +apparently could not work. Johnny, the elder, was dull and liverish from +intemperance; and the round-faced adolescent, the news of whose +fatherhood had raced the wind, was so sheep-faced, so craven, in the +presence of his elders, that he could not say bo to a battledore. There +was something unnatural about this fierce timidity--and the doctor in +Mahony caught a quick glimpse of the probable reverse of the picture. + +But it was cold, in face of all this rain-soaked clay; cold blue-grey +clouds drove across a washed-out sky; and he still felt unwell. +Returning to his living-room where a small American stove was burning, +he prepared for a quiet evening. In a corner by the fire stood an old +packing-case. He lifted the lid and thrust his hand in: it was here he +kept his books. He needed no light to see by; he knew each volume by the +feel. And after fumbling for a little among the tumbled contents, he +drew forth a work on natural science and sat down to read. But he did +not get far; his brain was tired, intractable. Lighting his pipe, he +tilted back his chair, laid the VESTIGES face downwards, and put his +feet on the table. + +How differently bashfulness impressed one in the case of the weaker sex! +There, it was altogether pleasing. Young Ocock's gaucherie had recalled +the little maid Polly's ingenuous confusion, at finding herself the +subject of conversation. He had not once consciously thought of Polly +since his return. Now, when he did so, he found to his surprise that she +had made herself quite a warm little nest in his memory. Looked back on, +she stood out in high relief against her somewhat graceless +surroundings. Small doubt she was both maidenly and refined. He also +remembered with a sensible pleasure her brisk service, her consideration +for others. What a boon it would have been, during the past week, to +have a busy, willing little woman at work, with him and for him, behind +the screen! As it was, for want of a helping hand the place was like a +pigsty. He had had neither time nor energy to clean up. The marks of +hobnailed boots patterned the floor; loose mud, and crumbs from meals, +had been swept into corners or under the stretcher-bed; while +commodities that had overflowed the shop added to the disorder. Good +Lord, no! . . . no place this for a woman. + +He rose and moved restlessly about, turning things over with his foot: +these old papers should be burnt, and that heap of straw-packing; those +empty sardine and coffee-tins be thrown into the refuse-pit. Scrubbed +and clean, it was by no means an uncomfortable room; and the stove drew +well. He was proud of his stove; many houses had not even a chimney. He +stood and stared at it; but his thoughts were elsewhere: he found +himself trying to call to mind Polly's face. Except for a pair of big +black eyes--magnificent eyes they seemed to him in retrospect--he had +carried away with him nothing of her outward appearance. Yes, stay!-- +her hair: her hair was so glossy that, when the sun caught it, high +lights came out on it--so much he remembered. From this he fell to +wondering whether her brain kept pace with her nimble hands and ways. +Was she stupid or clever? He could not tolerate stupidity. And Polly had +given him no chance to judge her; had hardly opened her lips before him. +What a timid little thing she was to be sure! He should have made it his +business to draw her out, by being kind and encouraging. Instead of +which he had acted towards her, he felt convinced, like an ill-mannered +boor. + +He did not know how it was, but he couldn't detach his thoughts from +Polly this evening: to their accompaniment he paced up and down. All of +a sudden he stood still, and gave a short, hearty laugh. He had just +seen, in a kind of phantom picture, the feet of the sisters Beamish as +they sat on the verandah edge: both young women wore flat sandal-shoes. +And so that neatest of neat ankles had been little Polly's property! For +his life he loved a well-turned ankle in a woman. + +A minute later he sat down at the table again. An idea had occurred to +him: he would write Polly a letter--a letter that called for +acknowledgment--and form an opinion of the girl from her reply. Taking +a sheet of thin blue paper and a magnum bonum pen he wrote: + +DEAR MISS TURNHAM, + +I WONDER IF I MIGHT ASK YOU TO DO ME A FAVOUR? ON GETTING BACK TO +BALLARAT, I FIND THAT THE RAIN HAS SPOILT MY STORE FLAG. WOULD YOU BE SO +KIND AS TO MAKE ME A NEW ONE? I HAVE NO LADY FRIENDS HERE TO APPLY TO +FOR HELP, AND I AM SURE YOU ARE CLEVER WITH YOUR NEEDLE. IF YOU CONSENT, +I WILL SEND YOU THE OLD FLAG AS A PATTERN, AND STUFF FOR THE NEW ONE. MY +KIND REGARDS TO ALL AT THE HOTEL. + +FAITHFULLY YOURS, + +RICHARD TOWNSHEND-MAHONY. + +P.S. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN OUR PLEASANT WALK TO THE CAVE. + +He went out to the post with it himself. In one hand he carried the +letter, in the other the candle-end stuck in a bottle that was known as +a "Ballarat-lantern" for it was a pitchdark night. + +Trade was slack; in consequence he found the four days that had to pass +before he could hope for an answer exceptionally long. After their +lapse, he twice spent an hour at the Post Office, in a fruitless attempt +to get near the little window. On returning from the second of these +absences, he found the letter waiting for him; it had been delivered by +hand. + +So far good: Polly had risen to his fly! He broke the seal. + +DEAR SIR, + +I shall be happy to help you with your new flag if I am able. Will you +kindly send the old one and the stuff down by my brother, who is coming +to see me on Saturday. He is working at Rotten Gully, and his name is +Ned. I do not know if I sew well enough to please you, but I will do my +best. + +I REMAIN, + +YOURS TRULY, + +MARY TURNHAM. + +Mahony read, smiled and laid the letter down--only to pick it up again. +It pleased him, did this prim little note: there was just the right +shade of formal reserve about it. Then he began to study particulars: +grammar and spelling were correct; the penmanship was in the Italian +style, minute, yet flowing, the letters dowered with generous loops and +tails. But surely he had seen this writing before? By Jupiter, yes! This +was the hand of the letter Purdy had shown him on the road to Melbourne. +The little puss! So she not only wrote her own letters, but those of her +friends as well. In that case she was certainly not stupid for she was +much the youngest of the three. + +To-day was Thursday. Summoning Long Jim from his seat behind the +counter, Mahony dispatched him to Rotten Gully, with an injunction not +to show himself till he had found a digger of the name of Turnham. And +having watched Jim set out, at a snail's pace and murmuring to himself, +Mahony went into the store, and measured and cut off material for the +new flag, from two different coloured rolls of stuff. + +It was ten o'clock that night before Polly's brother presented himself. +Mahony met him at the door and drew him in: the stove crackled, the room +was swept and garnished--he flattered himself that the report on his +habitat would be a favourable one. Ned's appearance gave him a pleasant +shock: it was just as if Polly herself, translated into male terms, +stood before him. No need, now, to cudgel his brains for her image! In +looking at Ned, he looked again at Polly. The wide-awake off, the same +fine, soft, black hair came to light--here, worn rather long and curly +--the same glittering black eyes, ivory-white skin, short, straight +nose; and, as he gazed, an offshoot of Mahony's consciousness wondered +from what quarter this middle-class English family fetched its dark, +un-English strain. + +In the beginning he exerted himself to set the lad at ease. He soon saw, +however, that he might spare his pains. Though clearly not much more +than eighteen years old, Ned Turnharn had the aplomb and assurance of +double that age. Lolling back in the single armchair the room boasted, +he more than once stretched out his hand and helped himself from the +sherry bottle Mahony had placed on the table. And the disparity in their +ages notwithstanding, there was no trace of deference in his manner. Or +the sole hint of it was: he sometimes smothered a profane word, or +apologised, with a winning smile, for an oath that had slipped out +unawares. Mahony could not accustom him self to the foul language that +formed the diggers' idiom. Here, in the case of Polly's brother, he +sought to overlook the offence, or to lay the blame for it on other +shoulders: at his age, and alone, the boy should never have been plunged +into this Gehenna. + +Ned talked mainly of himself and his doings. But other facts also +transpired, of greater interest to his hearer. Thus Mahony learned that, +out of a family of nine, four had found their way to the colony, and a +fifth was soon to follow--a mere child this, on the under side of +fifteen. He gathered, too, that the eldest brother, John by name, was +regarded as a kind of Napoleon by the younger fry. At thirty, this John +was a partner in the largest wholesale dry-goods' warehouse in +Melbourne. He had also married money, and intended in due course to +stand for the Legislative Council. Behind Ned's windy bragging Mahony +thought he discerned tokens of a fond, brotherly pride. If this were so, +the affair had its pathetic side; for, from what the boy said, it was +evident that the successful man of business held his relatives at arm's +length. And as Ned talked on, Mahony conceived John to himself as a kind +of electro-magnet, which, once it had drawn these lesser creatures after +it, switched off the current and left them to their own devices. Ned, +young as he was, had tried his hand at many trades. At present he was +working as a hired digger; but this, only till he could strike a softer +job. Digging was not for him, thank you; what you earned at it hardly +repaid you for the sweat you dripped. His every second word, indeed, was +of how he could amass most money with the minimum of bodily exertion. + +This calculating, unyouthful outlook was repugnant to Mahony, and for +all his goodwill, the longer he listened to Ned, the cooler he felt +himself grow. Another disagreeable impression was left by the grudging, +if-nothing-better-turns-up fashion, in which Ned accepted an impulsive +offer on his part to take him into the store. It was made on the spur of +the moment, and Mahony had qualms about it while his words were still +warm on the air, realizing that the overture was aimed, not at Ned in +person, but at Ned as Polly's brother. But his intuition did not +reconcile him to Ned's luke-warmness; he would have preferred a straight +refusal. The best trait he could discover in the lad was his affection +for his sister. This seemed genuine: he was going to see her again-- +getting a lift halfway, tramping the other twenty odd miles--at the end +of the week. Perhaps though, in the case of such a young opportunist, +the thought of Mrs. Beamish's lavish board played no small part; for Ned +had a rather lean, underfed look. But this only occurred to Mahony +afterwards. Then, his chief vexation was with himself: it would have +been kinder to set a dish of solid food before the boy, in place of the +naked sherry-bottle. But as usual, his hospitable leanings came too +late. + +One thing more. As he lighted Ned and his bundle of stuff through the +shop, he was impelled to slip a coin into the boy's hand, with a +murmured apology for the trouble he had put him to. And a something, the +merest nuance in Ned's manner of receiving and pocketing the money, +flashed the uncomfortable suspicion through the giver's mind that it had +been looked for, expected. And this was the most unpleasant touch of +all. + +But, bless his soul! did not most large families include at least one +poorish specimen?--he had got thus far, by the time he came to wind up +his watch for the night. And next day he felt sure he had judged Ned +over-harshly. His first impressions of people--he had had occasion to +deplore the fact before now--were apt to be either dead white or black +as ink; the web of his mind took on no half tints. The boy had not +betrayed any actual vices; and time might be trusted to knock the +bluster out of him. With this reflection Mahony dismissed Ned from his +mind. He had more important things to think of, chief among which was +his own state with regard to Ned's sister. And during the fortnight that +followed he went about making believe to weigh this matter, to view it +from every coign; for it did not suit him, even in secret, to confess to +the vehemence with which, when he much desired a thing, his temperament +knocked flat the hurdles of reason. The truth was, his mind was made up +--and had been, all along. At the earliest possible opportunity, he was +going to ask Polly to be his wife. + +Doubts beset him of course. How could he suppose that a girl who knew +nothing of him, who had barely seen him, would either want or consent to +marry him? And even if--for "if's" were cheap--she did say yes, would +it be fair of him to take her out of a comfortable home, away from +friends--such as they were!--of her own sex, to land her in these +crude surroundings, where he did not know a decent woman to bear her +company? Yet there was something to be said for him, too. He was very +lonely. Now that Purdy had gone he was reduced, for society, to the Long +Jims and Ococks of the place. What would he not give, once more to have +a refined companion at his side? Certainly marriage might postpone the +day on which he hoped to shake the dust of Australia off his feet. Life +A DEUX would mean a larger outlay; saving not prove so easy. Still it +could be done; and he would gladly submit to the delay if, by doing so, +he could get Polly. Besides, if this new happiness came to him, it would +help him to see the years he had spent in the colony in a truer and +juster light. And then, when the hour of departure did strike, what a +joy to have a wife to carry with one--a Polly to rescue, to restore to +civilisation! + +He had to remind himself more than once, during this fortnight, that she +would be able to devote only a fraction of her day to flagmaking. But he +was at the end of his tether by the time a parcel and a letter were left +for him at the store--again by hand: little Polly had plainly no +sixpences to spare. The needlework as perfect, of course; he hardly +glanced at it, even when he had opened and read the letter. This was of +the same decorous nature as the first. Polly returned a piece of stuff +that had remained over. He had really sent material enough for two +flags, she wrote; but she had not wished to keep him waiting so long. +And then, in a postscript: + +MR. SMITH WAS HERE LAST SUNDAY. I AM TO SAY MRS. BEAMISH WOULD BE VERY +PLEASED IF YOU ALSO WOULD CALL AGAIN TO SEE US. + +He ran the flag up to the top of his forty-foot staff and wrote:-- + +WHAT I WANT TO KNOW, MISS POLLY, IS, WOULD YOU BE GLAD TO SEE ME? + +But Polly was not to be drawn. + +WE SHOULD ALL BE VERY PLEASED. + +Some days previously Mahony had addressed a question to, Henry Ocock. +With this third letter from Polly, he held the lawyer's answer in his +hand. It was unsatisfactory. + +YOURSELF ATS. BOLLIVER. WE THINK THAT ACTION WILL BE SET DOWN FOR TRIAL +IN ABOUT SIX WEEKS' TIME. IN THESE CIRCUMSTANCES WE DO NOT THINK ANY +USEFUL PURPOSE WILL BE SERVED BY YOU CALLING TO SEE US UNTIL THIS IS +DONE. WE SHOULD BE GLAD IF YOU WOULD CALL AFTER THE ACTION IS ENTERED. + +Six weeks' time? The man might as well have said a year. And meanwhile +Purdy was stealing a march on him, was paying clandestine visits to +Geelong. Was it conceivable that anyone in his five senses could prefer +Tilly to Polly? It was not. In the clutch of a sudden fear Mahony went +to Bath's and ordered a horse for the following morning. + +This time he left his store in charge of a young consumptive, whose +plight had touched his heart: the poor fellow was stranded on Ballarat +without a farthing, having proved, like many another of his physique, +quite unfit for work on the diggings. A strict Baptist this Hempel, and +one who believed hell-fire would be his portion if he so much as guessed +at the "plant" of his employer's cash-box. He also pledged his word to +bear and forbear with Long Jim. The latter saw himself superseded with +an extreme bad grace, and was in no hurry to find a new job. + +Mahony's nag was in good condition, and he covered the distance in a +trifle over six hours. + +He had evidently hit on the family washing-day. The big boiler in the +yard belched clouds of steam; the female inmates of the Hotel were +gathered in the out-house: he saw them through the door as he rode in at +the gate. All three girls stood before tubs, their sleeves rolled up, +their arms in the lather. At his apparition there was a characteristic +chorus of cheeps and shrills and the door was banged to. Mrs. Beamish +alone came out to greet him. She was moist and blown, and smelt of soap. + +Not in a mood to mince matters, he announced straightway the object of +his visit. He was prepared for some expression of surprise on the part +of the good woman; but the blend of sheep-faced amazement and uncivil +incredulity to which she subjected him made him hot and angry; and he +vouchsafed no further word of explanation. + +Mrs. Beamish presently so far recovered as to be able to finish wiping +the suds from her fat red arms. + +Thereafter, she gave way to a very feminine weakness. + +"Well, and now I come to think of it, I'm blessed if I didn't suspeck +somethin' of it, right from the first! Why, didn't I say to Beamish, +with me own lips, 'ow you couldn't 'ardly take your eyes off 'er? Well, +well, I'm sure I wish you every 'appiness--though 'ow we're h'ever +goin' to get on without Polly, I reelly don't know. Don't I wish it 'ad +bin one o' my two as 'ad tuck your fancy--that's all! Between you an' +me, I don't believe a blessed thing's goin' to come of all young Smith's +danglin' round. An' Polly's still a bit young--only just turned +sixteen. Not as she's any the worse o' that though; you'll get 'er h'all +the easier into your ways. An' now I mus' look smart, an' get you a bite +o' somethin' after your ride." + +In vain did Mahony assure her that he had lunched on the road. He did +not know Mrs. Beamish. He was forced not only to sit down to the meal +she spread, but also, under her argus eye, to eat of it. + +When after a considerable delay Polly at length appeared, she had +removed all traces of the tub. The hand was cold that he took in his, as +he asked her if she would walk with him to the cave. + +This time, she trembled openly. Like a lamb led to the slaughter, he +thought, looking down at her with tender eyes. Small doubt that vulgar +creature within-doors had betrayed him to Polly, and exaggerated the +ordeal that lay before her. When once she was his wife he would not +consent to her remaining intimate with people of the Beamishes' kidney: +what a joy to get her out of their clutches! Nor should she spoil her +pretty shape by stooping over a wash-tub. + +In his annoyance he forgot to moderate his pace. Polly had to trip many +small steps to keep up with him. When they reached the entrance to the +cave, she was flushed and out of breath. + +Mahony stood and looked down at her. How young she was . . . how young +and innocent! Every feature of her dear little face still waited, as it +were, for the strokes of time's chisel. It should be the care of his +life that none but the happiest lines were graved upon its precious +surface. + +"Polly," he said, fresh from his scrutiny. "Polly, I'm not going to beat +about the bush with you. I think you know I came here to-day only to see +you." + +Polly's head drooped further forward; now, the rim of her bonnet hid her +face. + +"You aren't afraid of me, are you, Polly?" + +Oh, no, she was not afraid. + +"Nor have you forgotten me?" + +Polly choked a little, in her attempt to answer. She could not tell him +that she had carried his letters about with her by day, and slept with +them under her pillow; that she knew every word in them by heart, and +had copied and practised the bold flourish of the Dickens-like +signature; that she had never let his name cross her lips; that she +thought him the kindest, handsomest, cleverest man in the world, and +would willingly have humbled herself to the dust before him: all this +boiled and bubbled in her, as she brought forth her poor little "no." + +"Indeed, I hope not," went on Mahony. "Because, Polly, I've come to ask +you if you will be my wife." + +Rocks, trees, hills, suddenly grown tipsy, went see-sawing round Polly, +when she heard these words said. She shut her eyes, and hid her face in +her hands. Such happiness seemed improbable--was not to be grasped. "Me +? . . . your wife?" she stammered through her fingers. + +"Yes, Polly. Do you think you could learn to care for me a little, my +dear? No, don't be in a hurry to answer. Take your own time." + +But she needed none. With what she felt to be a most unmaidenly +eagerness, yet could not subdue, she blurted out: "I know I could. I ... +I do." + +"Thank God!" said Mahony. "Thank God for that!" + +He let his arms fall to his sides; he found he had been holding them +stiffly out from him. He sat down. "And now take away your hands, Polly, +and let me see your face. Don't be ashamed of showing me what you feel. +This is a sacred moment for us. We are promising to take each other, you +know, for richer for poorer, for better for worse--as the good old +words have it. And I must warn you, my dear, you are not marrying a rich +man. I live in a poor, rough place, and have only a poor home to offer +you. Oh, I have had many scruples about asking you to leave your friends +to come and share it with me, Polly my love!" + +"I'm not afraid. I am strong. I can work." + +"And I shall take every care of you. Please God, you will never regret +your choice." + +They were within sight of the house where they sat; and Mahony imagined +rude, curious eyes. So he did not kiss her. Instead, he drew her arm +though his, and together they paced up and down the path they had come +by, while he laid his plans before her, and confessed to the dreams he +had dreamt of their wedded life. It was a radiant afternoon in the +distance the sea lay deep blue, with turquoise shallows; a great white +bird of a ship, her canvas spread to the breeze, was making for . . . +why, to-day he did not care whether for port or for "home"; the sun went +down in a blaze behind a bank of emerald green. And little Polly agreed +with everything he said--was all one lovely glow of acquiescence. He +thought no happier mortal than himself trod the earth. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +Mahony remained at the Hotel till the following afternoon, then walked +to Geelong and took the steam-packet to Melbourne. The object of his +journey was to ask Mr. John Turnham's formal sanction to his marriage. +Polly accompanied him a little way on his walk. And whenever he looked +back he saw her standing fluttering her handkerchief--a small, solitary +figure on the bare, red road. + +He parted from her with a sense of leaving his most precious possession +behind, so close had words made the tie. On the other hand, he was not +sorry to be out of range for a while of the Beamish family's banter. +This had set in, the evening before, as soon as he and Polly returned to +the house--pacing the deck of the little steamer, he writhed anew at +the remembrance. Jokes at their expense had been cracked all through +supper: his want of appetite, for instance, was the subject of a dozen +crude insinuations; and this, though everyone present knew that he had +eaten a hearty meal not two hours previously; had been kept up till he +grew stony and savage, and Polly, trying hard not to mind but red to the +rims of her ears, slipped out of the room. Supper over, Mrs. Bearnish +announced in a loud voice that the verandah was at the disposal of the +"turtle-doves." She no doubt expected them to bill and coo in public, as +Purdy and Matilda had done. On edge at the thought, he drew Polly into +the comparative seclusion of the garden. Here they strolled up and down, +their promenade bounded at the lower end by the dense-leaved arbour +under which they had first met. In its screening shadow he took the kiss +he had then been generous enough to forgo. + +"I think I loved you, Polly, directly I saw you." + +In the distance a clump of hills rose steep and bare from the waste land +by the sea's edge--he could see them at this moment as he leant over +the taffrail: with the sun going down behind them they were the colour +of smoked glass. Last night they had been white with moonlight, which +lay spilled out upon them like milk. Strange old hills! Standing there +unchanged, unshaken, from time immemorial, they made the troth that had +been plighted under their shield seem pitifully frail. And yet. . . . +The vows which Polly and he had found so new, so wonderful; were not +these, in truth, as ancient as the hills themselves, and as undying? +Countless generations of human lovers had uttered them. The lovers +passed, but the pledges remained: had put on immortality. + +In the course of their talk it leaked out that Polly would not feel +comfortable till her choice was ratified by brother John. + +"I'm sure you will like John; he is so clever." + +"I shall like everyone belonging to you, my Polly!" + +As she lost her shyness Mahony made the discovery that she laughed +easily, and was fond of a jest. Thus, when he admitted to her that he +found it difficult to distinguish one fair, plump, sister Beamish from +the other; that they seemed to him as much alike as two firm, pink-ribbed +mushrooms, the little woman was hugely tickled by his his +masculine want of perception. "Why, Jinny has brown eyes and Tilly +blue!" + +What he did not know, and what Polly did not confess to him, was that +much of her merriment arose from sheer lightness of heart.--She, silly +goose that she was! who had once believed Jinny to be the picked object +of his attentions. + +But she grew serious again: could he tell her, please, why Mr. Smith +wrote so seldom to Tilly? Poor Tilly was unhappy at his long silences-- +fretted over them in bed at night. + +Mahony made excuses for Purdy, urging his unsettled mode of life. But it +pleased him to see that Polly took sides with her friend, and loyally +espoused her cause. + +No, there had not been a single jarring note in all their intercourse; +each moment had made the dear girl dearer to him. Now, worse luck, forty +odd miles were between them again. + +It had been agreed that he should call at her brother's private house, +towards five o'clock in the afternoon. He had thus to kill time for the +better part of the next day. His first visit was to a jeweller's in +Great Collins Street. Here, he pushed aside a tray of showy diamonds--a +successful digger was covering the fat, red hands of his bride with them +--and chose a slender, discreetly chased setting, containing three small +stones. No matter what household duties fell to Polly's share, this +little ring would not be out of place on her finger. + +From there he went to the last address Purdy had given him; only to find +that the boy had again disappeared. Before parting from Purdy, the time +before, he had lent him half the purchase-money for a horse and dray, +thus enabling him to carry out an old scheme of plying for hire at the +city wharf. According to the landlord of the "Hotel Vendome," to whom +Mahony was referred for fuller information, Purdy had soon tired of this +job, and selling dray and beast for what he could get had gone off on a +new rush to "Simson's Diggings" or the "White Hills." Small wonder Miss +Tilly was left languishing for news of him. + +Pricked by the nervous disquietude of those who have to do with the law, +Mahony next repaired to his solicitor's office. But Henry Ocock was +closeted with a more important client. This, Grindle the clerk, whom he +met on the stairs, informed him, with an evident relish, and with some +hidden, hinted meaning in the corners of his shifty little eyes. It was +lost on Mahony, who was not the man to accept hints from a stranger. + +The hour was on lunch-time; Grindle proposed that they should go +together to a legal chop-house, which offered prime value for your +money, and where, over the meal, he would give Mahony the latest news of +his suit. At a loss how to get through the day, the latter followed him +--he was resolved, too, to practise economy from now on. But when he sat +down to a dirty cloth and fly-spotted cruet he regretted his compliance. +Besides, the news Grindle was able to give him amounted to nothing; the +case had not budged since last he heard of it. Worse still was the +clerk's behaviour. For after lauding the cheapness of the establishment, +Grindle disputed the price of each item on the "meenew," and, when he +came to pay his bill, chuckled over having been able to diddle the +waiter of a penny. + +He was plainly one of those who feel the constant need of an audience. +And since there was no office-boy present, for him to dazzle with his +wit, he applied himself to demonstrating to his table-companion what a +sad, sad dog he was. + +"Women are the deuce, sir," he asserted, lying back in his chair and +sending two trails of smoke from his nostrils. "The very deuce! You +should hear my governor on the subject! He'd tickle your ears for you. +Look here, I'll give you the tip: this move, you know, to Ballarat, that +he's drivin' at: what'ull you bet me there isn't a woman in the case? +Fact! 'Pon my word there is. And a devilish fine woman, too!" He shut +one eye and laid a finger along his nose. "You won't blow the gab?-- +that's why you couldn't have your parleyvoo this morning. When milady +comes to town H. O.'s NON EST as long as she's here. And she with a +hubby of her own, too! What 'ud our old pa say to that, eh?" + +Mahony, who could draw in his feelers no further than he had done, +touched the limit of his patience. "My connexion with Mr. Ocock is a +purely business one. I have no intention of trespassing on his private +affairs, or of having them thrust upon me. Carver, my bill!" + +Bowing distantly he stalked out of the eating-house and back to the +"Criterion," where he dined. "So much for a maiden attempt at economy!" + +Towards five o'clock he took his seat in an omnibus that plied between +the city and the seaside suburb of St. Kilda, three miles off. A cool +breeze went; the hoofs of the horses beat a rataplan on the hard +surface; the great road, broad enough to make three of, was alive with +smart gigs and trotters. + +St. Kilda was a group of white houses facing the Bay. Most were o' +weatherboard with brick chimneys; but there were also a few of a more +solid construction. Mahony's goal was one of these: a low, stone villa +surrounded by verandahs, in the midst of tasteful grounds. The drive up +to the door led through a shrubbery, artfully contrived of the native +ti-tree; behind the house stretched kitchen and fruit-gardens. Many rare +plants grew in the beds. There was a hedge of geraniums close on fifteen +feet high. + +His knock was answered by a groom, who made a saucy face: Mr. Turnham +and his lady were attending the Governor's ball this evening and did not +receive. Mahony insisted on the delivery of his visiting-card. And since +the servant still blocked the entrance he added: "Inform your master, my +man, that I am the bearer of a message from his sister, Miss Mary +Turnham." + +The man shut him out, left him standing on the verandah. After a lengthy +absence, he returned, and with a "Well, come along in then!" opened the +door of a parlour. This was a large room, well furnished in horsehair +and rep. Wax-lights stood on the mantelpiece before a gilt-framed +pierglass; coloured prints hung on the walls. + +While Mahony was admiring the genteel comfort to which he had long been +a stranger, John Turnham entered the room. He had a quiet tread, but +took determined strides at the floor. In his hand he held Mahony's card, +and he looked from Mahony to it and back again. + +"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. . . . er . . . Mahony?" he asked, +refreshing his memory with a glance at the pasteboard. He spoke in the +brusque tone of one accustomed to run through many applicants in the +course of an hour. "I understand that you make use of my sister Mary's +name." And, as Mahony did not instantly respond, he snapped out: "My +time is short, sir!" + +A tinge of colour mounted to Mahony's cheeks. He answered with equal +stiffness: "That is so. I come from Mr. William Beamish's 'Family +Hotel,' and am commissioned to bring you your sister's warm love and +regards." + +John Turnham bowed; and waited. + +"I have also to acquaint you with the fact," continued Mahony, gathering +hauteur as he went, "that the day before yesterday I proposed marriage +to your sister, and that she did me the honour of accepting me." + +"Ah, indeed!" said John Turnham, with a kind of ironic snort. "And may I +ask on what ground you--" + +"On the ground, sir, that I have a sincere affection for Miss Turnham, +and believe it lies in my power to make her happy." + +"Of that, kindly allow me to judge. My sister is a mere child--too +young to know her own mind. Be seated." + +To a constraining, restraining vision of little Polly, Mahony obeyed, +stifling the near retort that she was not too young to earn her living +among strangers. The two men faced each other on opposite sides of the +table. John Turnham had the same dark eyes and hair, the same short, +straight nose as his brother and sister, but not their exotic pallor. +His skin was bronzed; and his large, scarlet mouth supplied a vivid dash +of colour. He wore bushy side-whiskers. + +"And now, Mr. Mahony, I will ask you a blunt question. I receive letters +regularly from my sister, but I cannot recall her ever having mentioned +your name. Who and what are you?" + +"Who am I?" flared up Mahony. "A gentleman like yourself, sir!--though +a poor one. As for Miss Turnham not mentioning me in her letters, that +is easily explained. I only had the pleasure of making her acquaintance +five or six weeks ago." + +"You are candid," said Polly's brother, and smiled without unclosing his +lips. "But your reply to my question tells me nothing. May I ask +what . . . er . . . under what . . . er . . . circumstances you came out +to the colony, in the first instance?" + +"No, sir, you may not!" cried Mahony, and flung up from his seat; he +scented a deadly insult in the question. + +"Come, come, Mr. Mahony," said Turnham in a more conciliatory tone. +"Nothing is gained by being techy. And my inquiry is not unreasonable. +You are an entire stranger to me; my sister has known you but for a few +weeks, and is a young and inexperienced girl into the bargain. You tell +me you are a gentleman. Sir! I had as lief you said you were a +blacksmith. In this grand country of ours, where progress is the +watchword, effete standards and dogging traditions must go by the board. +Grit is of more use to us than gentility. Each single bricklayer who +unships serves the colony better than a score of gentlemen." + +"In that I am absolutely not at one with you, Mr. Turnham," said Mahony +coldly. He had sat down again, feeling rather ashamed of his violence. +"Without a leaven of refinement, the very raw material of which the +existing population is composed--" + +But Turnham interrupted him. "Give 'em time, sir, give 'em time. God +bless my soul! Rome wasn't built in a day. But to resume. I have +repeatedly had occasion to remark in what small stead the training that +fits a man for a career in the old country stands him here. And that is +why I am dissatisfied with your reply. Show me your muscles, sir, give +me a clean bill of health, tell me if you have learnt a trade and can +pay your way. See, I will be frank with you. The position I occupy to-day +I owe entirely to my own efforts. I landed in the colony ten years +ago, when this marvellous city of ours was little more than a village +settlement. I had but five pounds in my pocket. To-day I am a partner in +my firm, and intend, if all goes well, to enter parliament. Hence I +think I may, without presumption, judge what makes for success here, and +of the type of man to attain it. Work, hard work, is the key to all +doors. So convinced am I of this, that I have insisted on the younger +members of my family learning betimes to put their shoulders to the +wheel. Now, Mr. Mahony, I have been open with you. Be equally frank with +me. You are an Irishman?" + +Candour invariably disarmed Mahony--even lay a little heavy on him, +with the weight of an obligation. He retaliated with a light touch of +self-depreciation. "An Irishman, sir, in a country where the Irish have +fallen, and not without reason, into general disrepute." + +Over a biscuit and a glass of sherry he gave a rough outline of the +circumstances that had led to his leaving England, two years previously, +and of his dismayed arrival in what he called "the cesspool of 1852". + +"Thanks to the rose-water romance of the English press, many a young man +of my day was enticed away from a modest competency, to seek his fortune +here, where it was pretended that nuggets could be gathered like +cabbages--I myself threw up a tidy little country practice. . . . I +might mention that medicine was my profession. It would have given me +intense satisfaction, Mr. Turnham, to see one of those glib journalists +in my shoes, or the shoes of some of my messmates on the OCEAN QUEEN. +There were men aboard that ship, sir, who were reduced to beggary before +they could even set foot on the road to the north. Granted it is the +duty of the press to encourage emigration--" + +"Let the press be, Mahony," said Turnham: he had sat back, crossed his +legs, and put his thumbs in his armholes. "Let it be. What we need here +is colonists--small matter how we get 'em." + +Having had his say, Mahony scamped the recital of his own sufferings: +the discomforts of the month he had been forced to spend in Melbourne +getting his slender outfit together; the miseries of the tramp to +Ballarat on delicate unused feet, among the riff-raff of nations, under +a wan December sky, against which the trunks of the gum-trees rose +whiter still, and out of which blazed a copper sun with a misty rim. He +scamped, too, his six-months' attempt at digging--he had been no more +fit for the work than a child. Worn to skin and bone, his small +remaining strength sucked out by dysentery, he had in the end bartered +his last pinch of gold-dust for a barrow-load of useful odds and ends; +and this had formed the nucleus of his store. Here, fortune had smiled +on him; his flag hardly set a-flying custom had poured in, business gone +up by leaps and bounds--"Although I have never sold so much as a pint +of spirits, sir!" His profits for the past six months equalled a clear +three hundred, and he had most of this to the good. With a wife to keep, +expenses would naturally be heavier; but he should continue to lay by +every spare penny, with a view to getting back to England. + +"You have not the intention, then, of remaining permanently in the +colony?" + +"Not the least in the world." + +"H'm," said John: he was standing on the hearthrug now, his legs apart. +"That, of course, puts a different complexion on the matter. Still, I +may say I am entirely reassured by what you have told me--entirely so. +Indeed, you must allow me to congratulate you on the good sense you +displayed in striking while the iron was hot. Many a one of your medical +brethren, sir, would have thought it beneath his dignity to turn +shopkeeper. And now, Mr. Mahony, I will wish you good day; we shall +doubtless meet again before very long. Nay, one moment! There are cases, +you will admit, in which a female opinion is not without value. Besides, +I should be pleased for you to see my wife." + +He crossed the hall, tapped at a door and cried: "Emma, my love, will +you give us the pleasure of your company?" + +In response to this a lady entered, whom Mahony thought one of the most +beautiful women he had ever seen. She carried a yearling infant in her +arms, and with one hand pressed its pale flaxen poll against the rich, +ripe corn of her own hair, as if to dare comparison. Her cheeks were of +a delicate rose pink. + +"My love," said Turnham--and one felt that the word was no mere flower +of speech. "My love, here is someone who wishes to marry our Polly." + +"To marry our Polly?" echoed the lady, and smiled a faint, amused smile +--it was as though she said: to marry this infant that I bear on my arm. +"But Polly is only a little girl!" + +"My very words, dearest. And too young to know her own mind." + +"But you will decide for her, John." + +John hung over his beautiful wife, wheeled up an easy chair, arranged +her in it, placed a footstool. "Pray, pray, do not overfatigue yourself, +Emma! That child is too heavy for you," he objected, as the babe made +strenuous efforts to kick itself to its feet. "You know I do not approve +of you carrying it yourself." + +"Nurse is drinking tea." + +"But why do I keep a houseful of domestics if one of the others cannot +occasionally take her place?" + +He made an impetuous step towards the bell. Before he could reach it +there came a thumping at the door, and a fluty voice cried: "Lemme in, +puppa, lemme in!" + +Turnham threw the door open, and admitted a sturdy two-year-old, whom he +led forward by the hand. "My son," he said, not without pride. Mahony +would have coaxed the child to him; but it ran to its mother, hid its +face in her lap. + +Forgetting the bell John struck an attitude. "What a picture!" he +exclaimed. "What a picture! My love, I positively must carry out my +intention of having you painted in oils, with the children round you.-- +Mr. Mahony, sir, have you ever seen anything to equal it?" + +Though his mental attitude might have been expressed by a note of +exclamation, set ironically, Mahony felt constrained to second Turnham's +enthusiasm. And it was indeed a lovely picture: the gracious, +golden-haired woman, whose figure had the amplitude, her gestures the +almost sensual languor of the young nursing mother; the two children +fawning at her knee, both ash-blond, with vivid scarlet lips.--"It helps +one," thought Mahony, "to understand the mother-worship of primitive +peoples." + +The nursemaid summoned and the children borne off, Mrs. Emma exchanged a +few amiable words with the visitor, then obeyed with an equally good +grace her husband's command to rest for an hour, before dressing for the +ball. + +Having escorted her to another room, Turnham came back rubbing his +hands. "I am pleased to be able to tell you, Mr. Mahony, that your suit +has my wife's approval. You are highly favoured! Emma is not free with +her liking." Then, in a sudden burst of effusion: "I could have wished +you the pleasure, sir, of seeing my wife in evening attire. She will +make a furore again; no other woman can hold a candle to her in a +ballroom. To-night is the first time since the birth of our second child +that she will grace a public entertainment with her presence; and +unfortunately her appearance will be a brief one, for the infant is not +yet wholly weaned." He shut the door and lowered his voice. "You have +had some experience of doctoring, you say; I should like a word with you +in your medical capacity. The thing is this. My wife has persisted, +contrary to my wishes, in suckling both children herself." + +"Quite right, too," said Mahony. "In a climate like this their natural +food is invaluable to babes." + +"Exactly, quite so," said Turnham, with a hint of impatience. "And in +the case of the first child, I made due allowance: a young mother. . . +the novelty of the thing. . . you understand. But with regard to the +second, I must confess I--How long, sir, in your opinion, can a mother +continue to nurse her babe without injury to herself? It is surely +harmful if unduly protracted? I have observed dark lines about my wife's +eyes, and she is losing her fine complexion.--Then you confirm my +fears. I shall assert my authority without delay, and insist on +separation from the child.--Ah! women are strange beings, Mr. Mahony, +strange beings, as you are on the high road to discovering for +yourself." + +Mahony returned to town on foot, the omnibus having ceased to run. As he +walked--at a quick pace, and keeping a sharp look-out; for the road was +notoriously unsafe after dark--he revolved his impressions of the +interview. He was glad it was over, and, for Polly's sake, that it had +passed off satisfactorily. It had made a poor enough start: at one +moment he had been within an ace of picking up his hat and stalking out. +But he found it difficult at the present happy crisis to bear a grudge-- +even if it had not been a proved idiosyncrasy of his, always to let a +successful finish erase a bad beginning. None the less, he would not +have belonged to the nation he did, had he not indulged in a caustic +chuckle and a pair of good-humoured pishes and pshaws, at Turnham's +expense. "Like a showman in front of his booth!" + +Then he thought again of the domestic scene he had been privileged to +witness, and grew grave. The beautiful young woman and her children +might have served as model for a Holy Family--some old painter's dream +of a sweet benign Madonna; the trampling babe as the infant Christ; the +upturned face of the little John adoring. No place this for the scoffer. +Apart from the mere pleasure of the eye, there was ample justification +for Turnham's transports. Were they not in the presence of one of life's +sublimest mysteries--that of motherhood? Not alone the lovely Emma: no; +every woman who endured the rigours of childbirth, to bring forth an +immortal soul, was a holy figure. + +And now for him, too, as he had been reminded, this wonder was to be +worked. Little Polly as the mother of his children--what visions the +words conjured up! But he was glad Polly was just Polly, and not the +peerless creature he had seen. John Turnham's fears would never be his-- +this jealous care of a transient bodily beauty. Polly was neither too +rare nor too fair for her woman's lot; and, please God, the day would +come when he would see her with a whole cluster of little ones round her +--little dark-eyed replicas of herself. She, bless her, should dandle +and cosset them to her heart's content. Her joy in them would also be +his. + + + + +Chapter IX + +He sawed, planed, hammered; curly shavings dropped and there was a +pleasant smell of sawdust. Much had to be done to make the place fit to +receive Polly. A second outhouse was necessary, to hold the surplus +goods and do duty as a sleeping-room for Long Jim and Hempel: the lean-to +the pair had occupied till now was being converted into a kitchen. At +great cost and trouble, Mahony had some trees felled and brought in from +Warrenheip. With them he put up a rude fence round his backyard, +interlacing the lopped boughs from post to post, so that they formed a +thick and leafy screen. He also filled in the disused shaft that had +served as a rubbish-hole, and chose another, farther off, which would be +less malodorous in the summer heat. Finally, a substantial load of +firewood carted in, and two snakes that had made the journey in hollow +logs dispatched, Long Jim was set down to chop and split the wood into a +neat pile. Polly would need but to walk to and from the woodstack for +her firing. + +Indoors he made equal revolution. That her ears should not be polluted +by the language of the customers, he ran up a partition between +living-room and store, thus cutting off the slab-walled portion of the +house, with its roof of stringy-bark, from the log-and-canvas front. He +also stopped with putty the worst gaps between the slabs. At Ocock's +Auction Rooms he bought a horsehair sofa to match his armchair, a strip of +carpet, a bed, a washhand-stand and a looking-glass, and tacked up a +calico curtain before the window. His books, fetched out of the wooden +case, were arranged on a brand-new set of shelves; and, when all was +done and he stood back to admire his work, it was borne in on him afresh +with how few creature-comforts he had hitherto existed. Plain to see +now, why he had preferred to sit out-of-doors rather than within! Now, +no one on the Flat had a trimmer little place than he. + +In his labours he had the help of a friendly digger--a carpenter by +trade--who one evening, pipe in mouth, had stood to watch his +amateurish efforts with the jack-plane. Otherwise, the Lord alone knew +how the house would ever have been made shipshape. Long Jim was equal to +none but the simplest jobs; and Hempel, the assistant, had his hands +full with the store. Well, it was a blessing at this juncture that +business could be left to him. Hempel was as straight as a die; was a +real treasure--or would have been, were it not for his eternal little +bark of a cough. This was proof against all remedies, and the heck-heck +of it at night was quite enough to spoil a light sleeper's rest. In +building the new shed, Mahony had been careful to choose a corner far +from the house. + +Marriages were still uncommon enough on Ballarat to make him an object +of considerable curiosity. People took to dropping in of an evening-- +old Ocock; the postmaster; a fellow storekeeper, ex-steward to the Duke +of Newcastle--to comment on his alterations and improvements. And over +a pipe and a glass of sherry, he had to put up with a good deal of +banter about his approaching "change of state." + +Still, it was kindly meant. "We'll 'ave to git up a bit o' company o' +nights for yer lady when she comes," said old Ocock, and spat under the +table. + +Purdy wrote from Tarrangower, where he had drifted: + +HOORAY, OLD DICK, GOLLY FOR YOU! OLD MAN DIDN'T I KICK UP A BOBBERY WHEN +I HEARD THE NEWS. NEVER WAS SO WELL PLEASED IN MY LIFE. THAT'S ALL YOU +NEEDED, DICK--NOW YOU'LL TURN INTO A FIRST-RATE COLONIAL. HOW ABOUT +THAT FIVER NOW I'D LIKE TO KNOW. YOU CAN TELL POLLY FROM ME I SHALL PAY +IT BACK WITH INTEREST ON THE FATAL DAY. OF COURSE I'LL COME AND SEE YOU +SPLICED, TOGS OR NO TOGS--TO TELL THE TRUTH MY KICKSIES ARE ON THEIR +VERY LAST LEGS--AND THERE'S NOTHING DOING HERE--ALL THE LOOSE STUFF'S +BEEN TURNED OVER. THERE'S OCEANS OF QUARTZ, OF COURSE, AND THEY'RE +TRYING TO POUND IT UP IN DOLLIES, BUT YOU COULD PUT ME TO BED WITH A +PICK-AXE AND A SHOVEL BEFORE I'D GO IN FOR SUCH TOMFOOLERY AS THAT.-- +DAMN IT ALL, DICK, TO THINK OF YOU BEING COTCHED AT LAST. I CAN'T GET +OVER IT, AND IT'S A BIT OF A RISK, TOO, BY DAD IT IS, FOR A GIRL OF THAT +AGE IS A DARK HORSE IF EVER THERE WAS ONE. + +Mahony's answer to this was a couple of pound-notes: SO THAT MY BEST MAN +SHALL NOT DISGRACE ME! His heart went out to the writer. Dear old +Dickybird! pleased as Punch at the turn of events, yet quaking for fear +of imaginary risks. With all Purdy's respect for his friend's opinions, +he had yet an odd distrust of that friend's ability to look after +himself. And now he was presuming to doubt Polly, too. Like his +imperence! What the dickens did HE know of Polly? Keenly relishing the +sense of his own intimate knowledge, Mahony touched the breast-pocket in +which Polly's letters lay--he often carried them out with him to a +little hill, on which a single old blue-gum had been left standing; its +scraggy top-knot of leaves drooped and swayed in the wind, like the few +long straggling hairs on an old man's head. + +The letters formed a goodly bundle; for Polly and he wrote regularly to +each other, she once a week, he twice. His bore the Queen's head; hers, +as befitted a needy little governess, were oftenest delivered by hand. +Mahony untied the packet, drew a chance letter from it and mused as he +read. Polly had still not ceded much of her early reserve--and it had +taken him weeks to persuade her even to call him by his first name. She +was, he thanked goodness, not of the kind who throw maidenly modesty to +the winds, directly the binding word is spoken. He loved her all the +better for her wariness of emotion; it tallied with a like streak in his +own nature. And this, though at the moment he was going through a very +debauch of frankness. To the little black-eyed girl who pored over his +letters at "Beamish's Family Hotel," he unbosomed himself as never in +his life before. He enlarged on his tastes and preferences, his likes +and dislikes; he gave vent to his real feelings for the country of his +exile, and his longings for "home"; told how he had come to the colony, +in the first instance, with the fantastic notion of redeeming the +fortunes of his family; described his collections of butterflies and +plants to her, using their Latin names. And Polly drank in his words, +and humbly agreed with all he wrote, or at least did not disagree; and, +from this, as have done lovers from the beginning of time, he inferred a +perfect harmony of mind. On one point only did he press her for a reply. +Was she fond of books? If so, what evenings they would spend together, +he reading aloud from some entertaining volume, she at her fancy work. +And poetry? For himself he could truly say he did not care for +poetry . . . except on a Saturday night or a quiet Sunday morning; and +that was, because he liked it too well to approach it with any but a +tranquil mind. + +I THINK IF I KNOW YOU ARIGHT, AS I BELIEVE I DO, MY POLLY, YOU TOO HAVE +POETRY IN YOUR SOUL. + +He smiled at her reply; then kissed it. + +I CANNOT WRITE POETRY MYSELF, said Polly, BUT I AM VERY FOND OF IT AND +SHALL INDEED LIKE VERY MUCH DEAR RICHARD TO LISTEN WHEN YOU READ. + +But the winter ran away, one cold, wet week succeeding another, and +still they were apart. Mahony urged and pleaded, but could not get Polly +to name the wedding-day. He began to think pressure was being brought to +bear on the girl from another side. Naturally the Beamishes were +reluctant to let her go: who would be so useful to them as Polly?--who +undertake, without scorn, the education of the whilom shepherd's +daughters? Still, they knew they had to lose her, and he could not see +that it made things any easier for them to put off the evil day. No, +there was something else at the bottom of it; though he did not know +what. Then one evening, pondering a letter of Polly's, he slapped his +forehead and exclaimed aloud at his own stupidity. That night, into his +reply he slipped four five-pound notes. JUST TO BUY YOURSELF ANY LITTLE +THING YOU FANCY, DEAREST. IF I CHOSE A GIFT, I MIGHT SEND WHAT WOULD NOT +BE ACCEPTABLE TO YOU. Yes, sure enough, that was it--little Polly had +been in straits for money: the next news he heard was that she had +bought and was stitching her wedding-gown. Taxed with her need, Polly +guiltily admitted that her salary for the past three months was owing to +her. But there had been great expenses in connection with the hotel; and +Mr. B. had had an accident to his leg. From what she wrote, though, +Mahony saw that it was not the first time such remissness had occurred; +and he felt grimly indignant with her employers. Keeping open house, and +hospitable to the point of vulgarity, they were, it was evident, +pinchfists when it came to parting with their money. Still, in the case +of a little woman who had served them so faithfully! In thought he set a +thick black mark against their name, for their cavalier treatment of his +Polly. And extended it to John Turnham as well. John had made no move to +put hand to pocket; and Polly's niceness of feeling had stood in the way +of her applying to him for aid. It made Mahony yearn to snatch the girl +to him, then and there; to set her free of all contact with such +coarse-grained, miserly brutes. + +Old Ocock negotiated the hire of a neat spring cart for him, and a stout +little cob; and at last the day had actually come, when he could set out +to bring Polly home. By his side was Ned Turnham. Ned, still a lean-jowled +wages-man at Rotten Gully, made no secret of his glee at getting +carried down thus comfortably to Polly's nuptials. They drove the +eternal forty odd miles to Geelong, each stick and stone of which was +fast becoming known to Mahony; a journey that remained equally tiresome +whether the red earth rose as a thick red dust, or whether as now it had +turned to a mud like birdlime in which the wheels sank almost to the +axles. Arrived at Geelong they put up at an hotel, where Purdy awaited +them. Purdy had tramped down from Tarrangower, blanket on back, and +stood in need of a new rig-out from head to foot. Otherwise his +persistent ill-luck had left no mark on him. + +The ceremony took place early the following morning, at the house of the +Wesleyan minister, the Anglican parson having been called away. The +Beamishes and Polly drove to town, a tight fit in a double buggy. On the +back seat, Jinny clung to and half supported a huge clothes-basket, +which contained the wedding-breakfast. Polly sat on her trunk by the +splashboard; and Tilly, crowded out, rode in on one of the cart-horses, +a coloured bed-quilt pinned round her waist to protect her skirts. + +To Polly's disappointment neither her brother John nor his wife was +present; a letter came at the eleventh hour to say that Mrs. Emma was +unwell, and her husband did not care to leave her. Enclosed, however, +were ten pounds for the purchase of a wedding-gift; and the pleasure +Polly felt at being able to announce John's generosity helped to make up +to her for his absence. The only other guest present was an elder +sister, Miss Sarah Turnham, who, being out of a situation at the moment, +had sailed down from Melbourne. This young lady, a sprightly brunette of +some three or four and twenty, without the fine, regular features of Ned +and Polly, but with tenfold their vivacity and experience, caused quite +a sensation; and Tilly's audible raptures at beholding her Purdy again +were of short duration; for Purdy had never met the equal of Miss Sarah, +and could not take his eyes off her. He and she were the life of the +party. The Beamishes were overawed by the visitor's town-bred airs and +the genteel elegance of her dress; Polly was a mere crumpled rose-leaf +of pink confusion; Mahony too preoccupied with ring and licence to take +any but his formal share in the proceedings. + +"Come and see you?" echoed Miss Sarah playfully: the knot was tied; the +company had demolished the good things laid out by Mrs. Beamish in the +private parlour of an hotel, and emptied a couple of bottles of +champagne; and Polly had changed her muslin frock for a black silk +travelling-gown. "Come and SEE you? Why, of course I will, little +silly!"--and, with her pretty white hands, she patted the already +perfect bow of Polly's bonnet-strings. Miss Sarah had no great opinion +of the match her sister was making; but she had been agreeably surprised +by Mahony's person and manners, and had said so, thus filling Polly's +soul with bliss. "Provided, of course, little goosey, you have a SPARE +ROOM to offer me.--For, I confess," she went on, turning to the rest of +the party, "I confess I feel inordinately curious to see, with my own +eyes, what these famous diggings are like. From all one hears, they must +be MARVELLOUSLY entertaining.--Now, I presume that you, Mr. Smith, +never touch at such RUDE, OUT-OF-THE-WORLD places in the course of YOUR +travels?" + +Purdy, who had discreetly concealed the fact that he was but a +poverty-stricken digger himself, quibbled a light evasion, then changed +the subject, and offered his escort to the steam-packet by which Miss +Sarah was returning to Melbourne. + +"And you, too, dear Tilly," urged little Polly, proceeding with her +farewells. "For, mind, you promised. And I won't forget to . . . you +know what!" + +Tilly, sobbing noisily, wept on Polly's neck that she wished she was +dead or at the bottom of the sea; and Polly, torn between pride and pain +at Purdy's delinquency, could only kiss her several times without +speaking. + +The farewells buzzed and flew. + +"Good-bye to you, little lass . . . beg pardon, Mrs. Dr. Mahony!"---- + +"Mind you write, Poll! I shall die to 'ear."---- + +"Ta-ta, little silly goosey, and AU REVOIR!"--"Mind he don't pitch you +out of the cart, Polly!"--"Good-bye, Polly, my duck, and remember I'll +come to you in a winkin', h'if and when . . ." which speech on the part +of Mrs. Beamish distressed Polly to the verge of tears. + +But finally she was torn from their arms and hoisted into the cart; and +Mahony, the reins in his hand, began to unstiffen from the wooden +figure-head he had felt himself during the ceremony, and under the +whirring tongues and whispered confidences of the women. + +"And now, Polly, for home!" he said exultantly, when the largest +pocket-handkerchief had shrunk to the size of a nit, and Polly had ceased +to twist her neck for one last, last glimpse of her friends. + +And then the bush, and the loneliness of the bush, closed round them. + +It was the time of flowers--of fierce young growth after the fruitful +winter rains. The short-lived grass, green now as that of an English +meadow, was picked out into patterns by the scarlet of the Running +Postman; purple sarsaparilla festooned the stems of the scrub; there +were vast natural paddocks, here of yellow everlastings, there of heaths +in full bloom. Compared with the dark, spindly foliage of the she-oaks, +the ti-trees' waxy flowers stood out like orange-blossoms against firs. +On damp or marshy ground wattles were aflame: great quivering masses of +softest gold. Wherever these trees stood, the fragrance of their yellow +puff-ball blossoms saturated the air; one knew, before one saw them, +that they were coming, and long after they had been left behind one +carried their honeyed sweetness with one; against them, no other scent +could have made itself felt. And to Mahony these waves of perfume, into +which they were continually running, came, in the course of the hours, +to stand for a symbol of the golden future for which he and Polly were +making; and whenever in after years he met with wattles in full bloom, +he was carried back to the blue spring day of this wedding-journey, and +jogged on once more, in the light cart, with his girl-wife at his side. + +It was necessarily a silent drive. More rain had fallen during the +night; even the best bits of the road were worked into deep, glutinous +ruts, and the low-lying parts were under water. Mahony, but a fairish +hand with the reins, was repeatedly obliged to leave the track and take +to the bush, where he steered a way as best he could through trees, +stumps, boulders and crab-holes. Sometimes he rose to his feet to +encourage the horse; or he alighted and pulled it by the bridle; or put +a shoulder to the wheel. But to-day no difficulties had power to daunt +him; and the farther he advanced the lighter-hearted he grew: he went +back to Ballarat feeling, for the first time, that he was actually going +home. + +And Polly? Sitting motionless at her husband's side, her hands folded on +her black silk lap, Polly obediently turned her head this way and that, +when Richard pointed out a landmark to her, or called her attention to +the flowers. At first, things were new and arresting, but the novelty +soon wore off; and as they went on and on, and still on, it began to +seem to Polly, who had never been farther afield than a couple of miles +north of the "Pivot City," as if they were driving away from all the +rest of mankind, right into the very heart of nowhere. The road grew +rougher, too--became scored with ridges and furrows which threw them +violently from side to side. Unused to bush driving, Polly was sure at +each fresh jolt that this time the cart MUST tip over; and yet she +preferred the track and its dangers to Richard's adventurous attempts to +carve a passage through the scrub. A little later a cold south wind +sprang up, which struck through her thin silk mantle; she was very +tired, having been on her feet since five o'clock that morning; and all +the happy fuss and excitement of the wedding was behind her. Her heart +sank. She loved Richard dearly; if he had asked her, she would have gone +to the ends of the earth with him; but at this moment she felt both +small and lonely, and she would have liked nothing better than Mrs. +Beamish's big motherly bosom, on which to lay her head. And when, in +passing a swamp, a well-known noise broke on her ear--that of hundreds +of bell-frogs, which were like hundreds of hissing tea-kettles just +about to boil--then such a rush of homesickness took her that she would +have given all she had, to know she was going back, once more, to the +familiar little whitewashed room she had shared with Tilly and Jinny. + +The seat of the cart was slanting and slippery. Polly was continually +sliding forward, now by inches, now with a great jerk. At last Mahony +noticed it. "You are not sitting very comfortably, Polly, I fear?" he +said. + +Polly righted herself yet again, and reddened. "It's my . . . my feet +aren't long enough," she replied. + +"Why, my poor little love!" cried Mahony, full of quick compunction. +"Why didn't you say so?" And drawing rein and getting down, he stuffed +some of Mrs. Beamish's bundles--fragments of the feast, which the good +woman had sent with them--under his wife's feet; stuffed too many, so +that Polly drove the rest of the way with her knees raised to a hump in +front of her. All the afternoon they had been making for dim blue +ranges. After leaving the flats near Geelong, the track went up and +down. Grey-green forest surrounded them, out of which nobbly hills rose +like islands from a sea of trees. As they approached the end of their +journey, they overtook a large number of heavy vehicles labouring along +through the mire. A coach with six horses dashed past them at full +gallop, and left them rapidly behind. Did they have to skirt bull-punchers +who were lashing or otherwise ill-treating their teams, Mahony +urged on the horse and bade Polly shut her eyes. + +Night had fallen and a drizzling rain get in, by the time they travelled +the last couple of miles to Ballarat. This was the worst of all; and +Polly held her breath while the horse picked its way among yawning pits, +into which one false step would have plunged them. Her fears were not +lessened by hearing that in several places the very road was undermined; +and she was thankful when Richard--himself rendered uneasy by the +precious cargo he bore--got out and walked at the horse's head. They +drew up before a public-house. Cramped from sitting and numb with cold, +Polly climbed stiffly down as bidden; and Mahony having unloaded the +baggage, mounted to his seat again to drive the cart into the yard. This +was a false move, as he was quick to see: he should not have left Polly +standing alone. For the news of the arrival of "Doc." Mahony and his +bride flew from mouth to mouth, and all the loafers who were in the bar +turned out to stare and to quiz. Beside her tumulus of trunk, bag, +bundle little Polly stood desolate, with drooping shoulders; and cursing +his want of foresight, Mahony all but drove into the gatepost, which +occasioned a loud guffaw. Nor had Long Jim turned up as ordered, to +shoulder the heavy luggage. These blunders made Mahony very hot and +curt. Having himself stowed the things inside the bar and borrowed a +lantern, he drew his wife's arm through his, and hurried her away. + +It was pitch-dark, and the ground was wet and squelchy. Their feet sank +in the mud. Polly clung to Richard's arm, trembling at the rude voices, +the laughter, the brawling, that issued from the grog-shops; at the +continual apparition of rough, bearded men. One of these, who held a +candle stuck in a bottle, was accosted by Richard and soundly rated. +When they turned out of the street with its few dismal oil-lamps, their +way led them among dirty tents and black pits, and they had to depend +for light on the lantern they carried. They crossed a rickety little +bridge over a flooded river; then climbed a slope, on which in her +bunchy silk skirts Polly slipped and floundered, to stop before +something that was half a tent and half a log-hut.--What! this the end +of the long, long journey! This the house she had to live in? + +Yes, Richard was speaking. "Welcome home, little wife! Not much of a +place, you see, but the best I can give you." + +"It's . . . it's very nice, Richard," said Polly staunchly; but her lips +trembled. + +Warding off the attack of a big, fierce, dirty dog, which sprang at her, +dragging its paws down her dress, Polly waited while her husband undid +the door, then followed him through a chaos, which smelt as she had +never believed any roofed-in place could smell, to a little room at the +back. + +Mahony lighted the lamp that stood ready on the table, and threw a +satisfied glance round. His menfolk had done well: things were in +apple-pie order. The fire crackled, the kettle was on the boil, the cloth +spread. He turned to Polly to kiss her welcome, to relieve her of bonnet +and mantle. But before he could do this there came a noise of rowdy +voices, of shouting and parleying. Picking up the lantern, he ran out to +see what the matter was. + +Left alone Polly remained standing by the table, on which an array of +tins was set--preserved salmon, sardines, condensed milk--their tops +forced back to show their contents. Her heart was heavy as lead, and she +felt a dull sense of injury as well. This hut her home!--to which she +had so freely invited sister and friend! She would be ashamed for them +ever to set eyes on it. Not in her worst dreams had she imagined it as +mean and poor as this. But perhaps . . . . With the lamp in her hand, +she tip-toed guiltily to a door in the wall: it opened into a tiny +bedroom with a sloping roof. No, this was all, all there was of it: just +these two miserable little poky rooms! She raised her head and looked +round, and the tears welled up in spite of herself. The roof was so low +that you could almost touch it; the window was no larger than a +pocket-handkerchief; there were chinks between the slabs of the walls. And +from one of these she now saw a spider crawl out, a huge black tarantula, +with horrible hairy legs. Polly was afraid of spiders; and at this the +tears began to overflow and to trickle down her cheeks. Holding her +skirts to her--the new dress she had made with such pride, now damp, +and crushed, and soiled--she sat down and put her feet, in their +soaked, mud-caked, little prunella boots, on the rung of her chair, for +fear of other monsters that might be crawling the floor. + +And then, while she sat thus hunched together, the voices outside were +suddenly drowned in a deafening noise--in a hideous, stupefying din, +that nearly split one's eardrums: it sounded as though all the tins and +cans in the town were being beaten and banged before the door. Polly +forgot the tarantula, forgot her bitter disappointment with her new +home. Her black eyes wide with fear, her heart thudding in her chest, +she sprang to her feet and stood ready, if need be, to defend herself. +Where, oh where was Richard? + +It was the last straw. When, some five minutes later, Mahony came +bustling in: he had soothed the "kettledrummers" and sent them off with +a handsome gratuity, and he carried the trunk on his own shoulder, Long +Jim following behind with bags and bundles: when he entered, he found +little Polly sitting with her head huddled on her arms, crying as though +her heart would break. + + + + + +Part II + + +Chapter I + +Over the fathomless grey seas that tossed between, dissevering the +ancient and gigantic continent from the tiny motherland, unsettling +rumours ran. After close on forty years' fat peace, England had armed +for hostilities again, her fleet set sail for a foreign sea. Such was +the news the sturdy clipper-ships brought out, in tantalising fragments; +and those who, like Richard Mahony, were mere birds-of-passage in the +colony, and had friends and relatives going to the front, caught +hungrily at every detail. But to the majority of the colonists what +England had done, or left undone, in preparation for war, was of small +account. To them the vital question was: will the wily Russian Bear take +its revenge by sending men-of-war to annihilate us and plunder the gold +in our banks--us, months removed from English aid? And the opinion was +openly expressed that in casting off her allegiance to Great Britain, +and becoming a neutral state, lay young Australia's best hope of safety. + +But, even while they made it, the proposers of this scheme were knee-deep +in petty, local affairs again. All Europe was depressed under the +cloud of war; but they went on belabouring hackneyed themes--the +unlocking of the lands, iniquitous licence-fees, official corruption. +Mahony could not stand it. His heart was in England, went up and down +with England's hopes and fears. He smarted under the tales told of the +inefficiency of the British troops and the paucity of their numbers; +under the painful disclosures made by journalists, injudiciously allowed +to travel to the seat of war; he questioned, like many another of his +class in the old country, the wisdom of the Duke of Newcastle's orders +to lay siege to the port of Sebastopol. And of an evening, when the +store was closed, he sat over stale English newspapers and a map of the +Crimea, and meticulously followed the movements of the Allies. + +But in this retirement he was rudely disturbed, by feeling himself +touched on a vulnerable spot--that of his pocket. Before the end of the +year trade had come to a standstill, and the very town he lived in was +under martial law. + +On both Ballarat and the Bendigo the agitation for the repeal of the +licence-tax had grown more and more vehement; and spring's arrival found +the digging-community worked up to a white heat. The new Governor's tour +of inspection, on which great hopes had been built, served only to +aggravate the trouble. Misled by the golden treasures with which the +diggers, anxious as children to please, dazzled his eyes, the Governor +decided that the tax was not an outrageous one; and ordered licence-raids +to be undertaken twice as often as before. This defeat of the +diggers' hopes, together with the murder of a comrade and the acquittal +of the murderer by a corrupt magistrate, goaded even the least sensitive +spirits to rebellion: the guilty man's house was fired, the police were +stoned, and then, for a month or more, deputations and petitions ran to +and fro between Ballarat and Melbourne. In vain: the demands of the +voteless diggers went unheard. The consequence was that one day at the +beginning of summer all the troops that could be spared from the +capital, along with several pieces of artillery, were raising the dust +on the road to Ballarat. + +On the last afternoon in November work was suspended throughout the +diggings, and the more cautious among the shopkeepers began to think of +closing their doors. In front of the "Diggers' Emporium," where the +earth was baked as hard as a burnt crust, a little knot of people stood +shading their eyes from the sun. Opposite, on Bakery Hill, a monster +meeting had been held and the "Southern Cross" hoisted--a blue bunting +that bore the silver stars of the constellation after which it was +named. Having sworn allegiance to it with outstretched hands, the rebels +were lining up to march off to drill. + +Mahony watched the thin procession through narrowed lids. In theory he +condemned equally the blind obstinacy of the authorities, who went on +tightening the screw, and the foolhardiness of the men. But--well, he +could not get his eye to shirk one of the screaming banners and +placards: "Down with Despotism!" "Who so base as be a Slave!" by means +of which the diggers sought to inflame popular indignation. "If only +honest rebels could get on without melodramatic exaggeration! As it is, +those good fellows yonder are rendering a just cause ridiculous." + +Polly tightened her clasp of his arm. She had known no peace since the +evening before, when a rough-looking man had come into the store and, +with revolver at full cock, had commanded Hempel to hand over all the +arms and ammunition it contained. Hempel, much to Richard's wrath, had +meekly complied; but it might have been Richard himself; he would for +certain have refused; and then. . . . Polly had hardly slept for +thinking of it. She now listened in deferential silence to the men's +talk; but when old Ocock--he never had a good word to say for the +riotous diggers--took his pipe out of his mouth to remark: "A pack o' +Tipperary boys spoilin' for a fight--that's what I say. An' yet, blow +me if I wouldn't 'a bin glad if one o' my two 'ad 'ad spunk enough to +join 'em,"--at this Polly could not refrain from saying pitifully: "Oh, +Mr. Ocock, do you really MEAN that?" For both Purdy and brother Ned were +in the rebel band, and Polly's heart was heavy because of them. + +"Can't you see my brother anywhere?" she asked Hempel, who held an old +spyglass to his eyes. + +"No, ma'am, sorry to say I can't," replied Hempel. He would willingly +have conjured up a dozen brothers to comfort Polly; but he could not +swerve from the truth, even for her. + +"Give me the glass," said Mahony, and swept the line.--"No, no sign of +either of them. Perhaps they thought better of it after all.--Listen! +now they're singing--can you hear them? The MARSEILLAISE as I'm alive. +--Poor fools! Many of them are armed with nothing more deadly than picks +and shovels." + +"And pikes," corrected Hempel. "Several carry pikes, sir." + +"Ay, that's so, they've bin 'ammerin' out bits of old iron all the +mornin'," agreed Ocock. "It's said they 'aven't a quarter of a firearm +apiece. And the drillin'! Lord love yer! 'Alf of 'em don't know their +right 'and from their left. The troops 'ull make mincemeat of 'em, if +they come to close quarters." + +"Oh, I hope not!" said Polly. "Oh, I do hope they won't get hurt." + +Patting her hand, Mahony advised his wife to go indoors and resume her +household tasks. And since his lightest wish was a command, little Polly +docilely withdrew her arm and returned to her dishwashing. But though +she rubbed and scoured with her usual precision, her heart was not in +her work. Both on this day and the next she seemed to exist solely in +her two ears. The one strained to catch any scrap of news about "poor +Ned"; the other listened, with an even sharper anxiety, to what went on +in the store. Several further attempts were made to get arms and +provisions from Richard; and each time an angry scene ensued. Close up +beside the thin partition, her hands locked under her cooking-apron, +Polly sat and trembled for her husband. He had already got himself +talked about by refusing to back a Reform League; and now she heard him +openly declare to some one that he disapproved of the terms of this +League, from A to Z. Oh dear! If only he wouldn't. But she was careful +not to add to his worries by speaking of her fears. As it was, he came +to tea with a moody face. + +The behaviour of the foraging parties growing more and more threatening, +Mahony thought it prudent to follow the general example and put up his +shutters. Wildly conflicting rumours were in the air. One report said a +contingent of Creswick dare-devils had arrived to join forces with the +insurgents; another that the Creswickers, disgusted at finding neither +firearms nor quarters provided for them, had straightway turned and +marched the twelve miles home again. For a time it was asserted that +Lalor, the Irish leader, had been bought over by the government; then, +just as definitely, that his influence alone held the rebel faction +together. Towards evening Long Jim was dispatched to find out how +matters really stood. He brought back word that the diggers had +entrenched themselves on a piece of rising ground near the Eureka lead, +behind a flimsy barricade of logs, slabs, ropes and overturned carts. +The Camp, for its part, was screened by a breastwork of firewood, +trusses of hay and bags of corn; while the mounted police stood or lay +fully armed by their horses, which were saddled ready for action at a +moment's notice. + +Neither Ned nor Purdy put in an appearance, and the night passed without +news of them. Just before dawn, however, Mahony was wakened by a tapping +at the window. Thrusting out his head he recognised young Tommy Ocock, +who had been sent by his father to tell "doctor" that the soldiers were +astir. Lights could be seen moving about the Camp, a horse had neighed-- +father thought spies might have given them the hint that at least half +the diggers from the Stockade had come down to Main Street last night, +and got drunk, and never gone back. With a concerned glance at Polly +Mahony struggled into his clothes. He must make another effort to reach +the boys--especially Ned, for Polly's sake. When Ned had first +announced his intention of siding with the insurgents, he had merely +shrugged his shoulders, believing that the young vapourer would soon +have had enough of it. Now he felt responsible to his wife for Ned's +safety: Ned, whose chief reason for turning rebel, he suspected, was +that a facetious trooper had once dubbed him "Eytalian organ-grinder," +and asked him where he kept his monkey. + +But Mahony's designs of a friendly interference came too late. The +troops had got away, creeping stealthily through the morning dusk; and +he was still panting up Specimen Hill when he heard the crack of a +rifle. Confused shouts and cries followed. Then a bugle blared, and the +next instant the rattle and bang of musketry split the air. + +Together with a knot of others, who like himself had run forth half +dressed, Mahony stopped and waited, in extreme anxiety; and, while he +stood, the stars went out, one by one, as though a finger-tip touched +them. The diggers' response to the volley of the attacking party was +easily distinguished: it was a dropping fire, and sounded like a thin +hail-shower after a peal of thunder. Within half an hour all was over: +the barricade had fallen, to cheers and laughter from the military; the +rebel flag was torn down; huts and tents inside the enclosure were going +up in flames. + +Towards six o'clock, just as the December sun, huge and fiery, thrust +the edge of its globe above the horizon, a number of onlookers ran up +the slope to all that was left of the ill-fated stockade. On the dust, +bloodstains, now set hard as scabs, traced the route by which a wretched +procession of prisoners had been marched to the Camp gaol. Behind the +demolished barrier huts smouldered as heaps of blackened embers; and the +ground was strewn with stark forms, which lay about--some twenty or +thirty of them--in grotesque attitudes. Some sprawled with outstretched +arms, their sightless eyes seeming to fix the pale azure of the sky; +others were hunched and huddled in a last convulsion. And in the course +of his fruitless search for friend and brother, an old instinct +reasserted itself in Mahony: kneeling down he began swiftly and +dexterously to examine the prostrate bodies. Two or three still heaved, +the blood gurgling from throat and breast like water from the neck of a +bottle. Here, one had a mouth plugged with shot, and a beard as stiff as +though it were made of rope. Another that he turned over was a German he +had once heard speak at a diggers' meeting--a windy braggart of a man, +with a quaint impediment in his speech. Well, poor soul! he would never +mouth invectives or tickle the ribs of an audience again. His body was a +very colander of wounds. Some had not bled either. It looked as though +the soldiers had viciously gone on prodding and stabbing the fallen. + +Stripping a corpse of its shirt, he tore off a piece of stuff to make a +bandage for a shattered leg. While he was binding the limb to a board, +young Tom ran up to say that the military, returning with carts, were +arresting every one they met in the vicinity. With others who had been +covering up and carrying away their friends, Mahony hastened down the +back of the hill towards the bush. Here was plain evidence of a +stampede. More bloodstains pointed the track, and a number of odd and +clumsy weapons had been dropped or thrown away by the diggers in their +flight. + +He went home with the relatively good tidings that neither Ned nor Purdy +was to be found. Polly was up and dressed. She had also lighted the fire +and set water on to boil, "just in case." "Was there ever such a +sensible little woman?" said her husband with a kiss. + +The day dragged by, flat and stale after the excitement of the morning. +No one ventured far from cover; for the military remained under arms, +and detachments of mounted troopers patrolled the streets. At the Camp +the hundred odd prisoners were being sorted out, and the maimed and +wounded doctored in the rude little temporary hospital. Down in Main +Street the noise of hammering went on hour after hour. The dead could +not be kept, in the summer heat, must be got underground before dark. + +Mahony had just secured his premises for the night, when there came a +rapping at the back door. In the yard stood a stranger who, when the dog +Pompey had been chidden and soothed, made mysterious signs to Mahony and +murmured a well-known name. Admitted to the sitting-room he fished a +scrap of dirty paper from his boot. Mahony put the candle on the table +and straightened out the missive. Sure enough, it was in Purdy's hand-- +though sadly scrawled. + +HAVE BEEN HIT IN THE PIN. COME IF POSSIBLE AND BRING YOUR TOOLS. THE +BEARER IS SQUARE. + +Polly could hear the two of them talking in low, urgent tones. But her +relief that the visitor brought no bad news of her brother was dashed +when she learned that Richard had to ride out into the bush, to visit a +sick man. However she buttoned her bodice, and with her hair hanging +down her back went into the sitting-room to help her husband; for he was +turning the place upside down. He had a pair of probe-scissors +somewhere, he felt sure, if he could only lay hands on them. And while +he ransacked drawers and cupboards for one or other of the few poor +instruments left him, his thoughts went back, inopportunely enough, to +the time when he had been surgeon's dresser in the Edinburgh Royal +Infirmary. O TEMPORA, O MORES! He wondered what old Syme, that prince of +surgeons, would say, could he see his whilom student raking out a probe +from among the ladles and kitchen spoons, a roll of lint from behind the +saucepans. + +Bag in hand, he followed his guide to where the latter had left a horse +in safe-keeping; and having lengthened the stirrups and received +instructions about the road, he set off for the hut in the ranges which +Purdy had contrived to reach. He had an awkward cross-country ride of +some four miles before him; but this did not trouble him. The chance- +touched spring had opened the gates to a flood of memories; and, as he +jogged along, he re-lived in thought the happy days spent as a student +under the shadow of Arthur's Seat, round the College, the Infirmary and +old Surgeons' Square. Once more he sat in the theatre, the breathless +spectator of famous surgical operations; or as house-surgeon to the +Lying-in Hospital himself assisted in daring attempts to lessen +suffering and save life. It was, of course, too late now to bemoan the +fact that he had broken with his profession. Yet only that very day envy +had beset him. The rest of the fraternity had run to and from the tents +where the wounded were housed, while he, behung with his shopman's +apron, pottered about among barrels and crates. No one thought of +enlisting his services; another, not he, would set (or bungle) the +fracture he had temporarily splinted. + +The hut--it had four slab walls and an earthen floor--was in darkness +on his arrival, for Purdy had not dared to make a light. He lay tossing +restlessly on a dirty old straw palliasse, and was in great pain; but +greeted his friend with a dash of the old brio. + +Hanging his coat over the chinks in the door, and turning back his +sleeves, Mahony took up the lantern and stooped to examine the injured +leg. A bullet had struck the right ankle, causing an ugly wound. He +washed it out, dressed and bandaged it. He also bathed the patient's +sweat-soaked head and shoulders; then sat down to await the owner of the +hut's return. + +As soon as the latter appeared he took his leave, promising to ride out +again the night after next. In spite of the circumstances under which +they met, he and Purdy parted with a slight coolness. Mahony had loudly +voiced his surprise at the nature of the wound caused by the bullet: it +was incredible that any of the military could have borne a weapon of +this calibre. Pressed, Purdy admitted that his hurt was a piece of gross +ill-luck: he had been accidentally shot by a clumsy fool of a digger, +from an ancient holster-pistol. + +To Mahony this seemed to cap the climax; and he did not mask his +sentiments. The pitiful little forcible-feeble rebellion, all along but +a futile attempt to cast straws against the wind, was now completely +over and done with, and would never be heard of again. Or such at least, +he added, was the earnest hope of the law-abiding community. This +irritated Purdy, who was spumy with the self-importance of one who has +stood in the thick of the fray. He answered hotly, and ended by rapping +out with a contemptuous click of the tongue: "Upon my word, Dick, you +look at the whole thing like the tradesman you are!" + +These words rankled in Mahony all the way home.--Trust Purdy for not, +in anger, being able to resist giving him a flick on the raw. It made +him feel thankful he was no longer so dependent on this friendship as of +old. Since then he had tasted better things. Now, a woman's heart beat +in sympathetic understanding; there met his, two lips which had never +said an unkind word. He pushed on with a new zest, reaching home about +dawn. And over his young wife's joy at his safe return, he forgot the +shifting moods of his night-journey. + +It had, however, this result. Next day Polly found him with his head in +one of the great old shabby black books which, to her mind, spoilt the +neat appearance of the bookshelves. He stood to read, the volume lying +open before him on the top of the cold stove, and was so deeply +engrossed that the store-bell rang twice without his hearing it. When, +reminded that Hempel was absent, he whipped out to answer it, he carried +the volume with him. + + + + +Chapter II + +But his first treatment of Purdy's wound was also his last. Two nights +later he found the hut deserted; and diligently as he prowled round it +in the moonlight, he could discover no clue to the fate of its +occupants. There was nothing to be done but to head his horse for home +again. Polly was more fortunate. Within three days of the fight Ned +turned up, sound as a bell. He was sporting a new hat, a flashy silk +neckerchief and a silver watch and chain. At sight of these kickshaws a +dismal suspicion entered Mahony's mind, and refused to be dislodged. But +he did not breathe his doubts--for Polly's sake. Polly was rapturously +content to see her brother again. She threw her arms round his neck, and +listened, with her big, black, innocent eyes--except for their +fleckless candour, the counterpart of Ned's own--to the tale of his +miraculous escape, and of the rich gutter he had had the good luck to +strike. + +Meanwhile public feeling, exasperated beyond measure by the tragedy of +that summer dawn, slowly subsided. Hesitation, timidity, and a very +human waiting on success had held many diggers back from joining in the +final coup; but the sympathy of the community was with the rebels, and +at the funerals of the fallen, hundreds of mourners, in such black coats +as they could muster, marched side by side to the wild little unfenced +bush cemetery. When, too, the relief-party arrived from Melbourne and +martial law was proclaimed, the residents handed over their firearms as +ordered; but an attempt to swear in special constables failed, not a +soul stepping forward in support of the government. + +There was literally nothing doing during the month the military occupied +Ballarat. Mahony seized the opportunity to give his back premises a coat +of paint; he also began to catalogue his collection of Lepidoptera. +Hence, as far as business was concerned, it was a timely moment for the +arrival of a letter from Henry Ocock, to the effect that, "subject of +course to any part-heard case," "our case" was first on the list for a +date early in January. + +None the less, the announcement threw Mahony into the fidgets. He had +almost clean forgotten the plaguey affair: it had its roots in the dark +days before his marriage. He wished now he had thought twice before +letting himself be entangled in a lawsuit. Now, he had a wife dependent +on him, and to lose the case, and be held responsible for costs, would +cripple him. And such a verdict was not at all unlikely; for Purdy, his +chief witness, could not be got at: the Lord alone knew where Purdy lay +hid. He at once sat down and wrote the bad news to his solicitor. + +At six o'clock in the morning some few days later, he took his seat in +the coach for Melbourne. By his side sat Johnny Ocock, the elder of the +two brothers. Johnny had by chance been within earshot during the +negotiations with the rascally carrier, and on learning this, Henry had +straightway subpoenaed him. Mahony was none too well pleased: the boy +threatened to be a handful. His old father, on delivering him up at the +coach-office, had drawn Mahony aside to whisper: "Don't let the young +limb out o' yer sight, doc., or get nip or sip o' liquor. If 'e so much +as wets 'is tongue, there's no 'olding 'im." Johnny was a lean, +pimply-faced youth, with cold, flabby hands. + +Little Polly had to stay behind. Mahony would have liked to give her the +trip and show her the sights of the capital; but the law-courts were no +place for a woman; neither could he leave her sitting alone in a hotel. +And a tentative letter to her brother John had not called forth an +invitation: Mrs. Emma was in delicate health at present, and had no mind +for visitors. So he committed Polly to the care of Hempel and Long Jim, +both of whom were her faithful henchmen. She herself, in proper wifely +fashion, proposed to give her little house a good red-up in its master's +absence. + +Mahony and Johnny dismounted from the coach in the early afternoon, +sore, stiff and hungry: they had broken their fast merely on half-a-dozen +sandwiches, keeping their seats the while that the young toper +might be spared the sight of intoxicating liquors. Now, stopping only to +brush off the top layer of dust and snatch a bite of solid food, Mahony +hastened away, his witness at heel, to Chancery Lane. + +It was a relief to find that Ocock was not greatly put out at Purdy +having failed them. "Leave it to us, sir. We'll make that all right." As +on the previous visit he dry-washed his hands while he spoke, and his +little eyes shot flashes from one to the other, like electric sparks. He +proposed just to run through the morrow's evidence with "our young +friend there"; and in the course of this rehearsal said more than once: +"Good . . . good! Why, sonny, you're quite smart." This when Johnny +succeeded in grasping his drift. But at the least hint of unreadiness or +hesitation, he tut-tutted and drew his brows together. And as it went +on, it seemed to Mahony that Ocock was putting words into the boy's +mouth; while Johnny, intimidated, said yes and amen to things he could +not possibly know. Presently he interfered to this effect. Ocock brushed +his remark aside. But after a second interruption from Mahony: "I think, +sir, with your permission we will ask John not to depart from what he +actually heard," the lawyer shuffled his papers into a heap and said +that would do for to-day: they would meet at the court in the morning. +Prior to shaking hands, however, he threw out a hint that he would like +a word with his brother on family matters. And for half an hour Mahony +paced the street below. + +The remainder of the day was spent in keeping Johnny out of temptation's +way, in trying to interest him in the life of the city, its monuments +and curiosities. But the lad was too apathetic to look about him, and +never opened his mouth. Once only in the course of the afternoon did he +offer a kind of handle. In their peregrinations they passed a Book +Arcade, where Mahony stopped to turn the leaves of a volume. Johnny also +took up a book, and began to read. + +"What is it?" asked Mahony. "Would you like to have it, my boy?" + +Johnny stonily accepted the gift--it was a tale of Red Indians, the +pages smudged with gaudy illustrations--and put it under his arm. + +At the good supper that was set before him he picked with a meagre zest; +then fell asleep. Mahony took the opportunity to write a line to Polly +to tell of their safe arrival; and having sealed the letter, ran out to +post it. He was not away for more than three minutes, but when he came +back Johnny was gone. He hunted high and low for him, ransacked the +place without success: the boy had spoken to no one, nor had he been +seen to leave the coffee-room; and as the clock-hands were nearing +twelve, Mahony was obliged to give up the search and go back to the +hotel. It was impossible at that hour to let Ocock know of this fresh +piece of ill-luck. Besides, there was just a chance the young scamp +would turn up in the morning. Morning came, however, and no Johnny with +it. Outwitted and chagrined, Mahony set off for the court alone. + +Day had broken dim and misty, and by the time breakfast was over a north +wind was raging--a furnace-like blast that bore off the sandy deserts +of the interior. The sun was a yellow blotch in a copper sky; the +thermometer had leapt to a hundred and ten in the shade. Blinding clouds +of coarse, gritty dust swept house-high through the streets: +half-suffocated, Mahony fought his way along, his veil lowered, his +handkerchief at his mouth. Outside those public-houses that advertised +ice, crowds stood waiting their turn of entry; while half-naked barmen, +their linen trousers drenched with sweat, worked like niggers to mix +drinks which should quench these bottomless thirsts. Mahony believed he +was the only perfectly sober person in the lobby of the court. Even +Ocock himself would seem to have been indulging. + +This suspicion was confirmed by the lawyer's behaviour. No sooner did +Ocock espy him than up he rushed, brandishing the note that had been got +to him early that morning--and now his eyes looked like little dabs of +pitch in his chalk-white face, and his manner, stripped of its veneer, +let the real man show through. + +"Curse it, sir, and what's the meaning of this, I'd like to know?" he +cried, and struck at the sheet of notepaper with his free hand. "A +pretty fix to put us in at the last minute, upon my word! It was your +business, sir, to nurse your witness . . . after all the trouble I'd +been to with him! What the devil do you expect us to do now?" + +Mahony's face paled under its top-dressing of dust and moisture. To +Ocock's gross: "Well, it's your own look-out, confound you!--entirely +your own look-out," he returned a cool: "Certainly," then moved to one +side and took up his stand in a corner of the hall, out of the way of +the jostle and bustle, the constant going and coming that gave the +hinges of the door no rest. + +When after a weary wait the time came to enter court, he continued to +give Ocock, who had been deep in consultation with his clerk, a wide +berth, and moved forward among a number of other people. A dark, +ladder-like stair led to the upper storey. While he was mounting this, +some words exchanged in a low tone behind him arrested his attention. + +"Are you O.K., old man?" + +"We are, if our client doesn't give us away. But he has to be handled +like a hot--" Here the sentence snapped, for Mahony, bitten by a sudden +doubt, faced sharply round. But it was a stranger who uncivilly accused +him of treading on his toe. + +The court--it was not much more than twenty feet square--was like an +ill-smelling oven. Every chink and crack had been stopped against the +searing wind; and the atmosphere was a brew of all the sour odours, the +offensive breaths, given off by the two-score odd people crushed within +its walls. In spite of precautions the dust had got in: it lay thick on +sills, desks and papers, gritted between the teeth, made the throat +raspy as a file. + +Mahony had given up all hope of winning his case, and looked forward to +the sorry pleasure of assisting at a miscarriage of justice. During the +speech for the plaintiff, however, he began to see the matter in another +light. Not so much thanks to the speaker, as in spite of him. +Plaintiff's counsel was a common little fellow of ungainly appearance: a +double toll of fat bulged over the neck of his gown, and his wig, +hastily re-donned after a breathing-space, sat askew. Nor was he +anything of an orator: he stumbled over his sentences, and once or twice +lost his place altogether. To his dry presentment of the case nobody +seemed to pay heed. The judge, tired of wiping his spectacles dry, leant +back and closed his eyes. Mahony believed he slept, as did also some of +the jurors, deaf to the Citation of Dawes V. Peck and Dunlop V. Lambert; +to the assertion that the carrier was the agent, the goods were +accepted, the property had "passed." This "passing" of the property was +evidently a strong point; the plaintiff's name itself was not much +oftener on the speaker's lips. "The absconding driver, me Lud, was a +personal friend of the defendant's. Mr. Bolliver never knew him; hence +could not engage him. Had this person not been thrust upon him, Mr. +Bolliver would have employed the same carrier as on a previous +occasion." And so on and on. + +Mahony listened hand at ear, that organ not being keyed up to the +mutterings and mumblings of justice. And for all the dullness of the +subject-matter and counsel's lack of eloquence his interest did not +flag. It was the first time he heard the case for the other side stated +plainly; and he was dismayed to find how convincing it was. Put thus, it +must surely gain over every honest, straight-thinking man. In +comparison, the points Ocock was going to advance shrank to mere legal +quibbles and hair-splitting evasions. + +Then the plaintiff himself went into the witness-box--and Mahony's +feelings became involved as well. This his adversary!--this poor old +mangy greybeard, who stood blinking a pair of rheumy eyes and weakly +smiling. One did not pit oneself against such human flotsam. Drunkard +was stamped on every inch of the man, but this morning, in odd exception +to the well-primed crew around him, he was sober--bewilderedly sober-- +and his shabby clothing was brushed, his frayed collar clean. +Recognising the pitiful bid for sympathy, Mahony caught himself +thinking: "Good Lord! I could have supplied him with a coat he'd have +cut a better figure than that in." + +Bolliver clutched the edge of the box with his two hands. His unusual +condition was a hindrance rather than a help to him; without a peg or +two his woolly thoughts were not to be disentangled. He stammered forth +his evidence, halting either to piece together what he was going to say, +or to recollect what he had just said--it was clear he went in mortal +fear of contradicting himself. The scene was painful enough while he +faced his own counsel, but, when counsel for the defence rose, a half-hour +followed in which Mahony wished himself far from the court. + +Bolliver could not come to the point. Counsel was merciless and coarsely +jocose, and brought off several laughs. His victim wound his knotty +hands in and out, and swallowed oftener than he had saliva for, in a +forlorn endeavour to evade the pitfalls artfully dug for him. More than +once he threw a covert glance, that was like an appeal for help, at all +the indifferent faces. Mahony drooped his head, that their eyes should +not meet. + +In high feather at the effect he was producing, counsel inserted his +left arm under his gown, and held the stuff out from his back with the +tips of all five fingers. + +"And now you'll p'raps have the goodness to tell us whether you've ever +had occasion to send goods by a carrier before, in the course of your +young life?" + +"Yes." It was a humble monosyllable, returned without spirit. + +"Then of course you've heard of this Murphy?" + +"N . . . no, I haven't," answered Bolliver, and let his vacillating eyes +wander to the judge and back. + +"You tell that to the marines!" And after half a dozen other tricky +questions: "I put it to you, it's a well-known fact that he's been a +carrier hereabouts for the last couple o' years or more?" + +"I don't know--I sup . . . sup-pose so." Bolliver's tongue grew heavy +and tripped up his words. + +"And yet you've the cheek, you old rogue you, to insinuate that this was +a put-up job?" + +"I . . . I only say what I heard." + +"I don't care a button what you heard or didn't hear. What I ask, my +pretty, is do you yourself say so?" + +"The . . . the defendant recommended him." + +"I put it to you, this man Murphy was one of the best known carriers in +Melbourne, and THAT was why the defendant recommended him--are you out +to deny it?" + +"N . . . n . . . no." + +"Then you can stand down!" and leaning over to Grindle, who was below +him, counsel whispered with a pleased spread of the hand: "There you +are! that's our case." + +There was a painful moment just before Bolliver left the witness-box. As +if become suddenly alive to the sorry figure he had cut, he turned to +the judge with hands clasped, exclaimed: "My Lord, if the case goes +against me, I'm done . . . stony-broke! And the defendant's got a down +on me, my Lord--'e's made up his mind to ruin me. Look at him a-setting +there--a hard man, a mean man, if ever you saw one! What would the bit +of money 'ave meant to 'im? But . . ." + +He was rudely silenced and hustled away, to a sharp rebuke from the +judge, who woke up to give it. All eyes were turned on Mahony. Under the +fire of observation--they were comparing him, he knew, with the poor +old Jeremy Diddler yonder, to the latter's disadvantage--his spine +stiffened and he held himself nervously erect. But, the quizzing at an +end, he fumbled with his finger at his neck--his collar seemed to have +grown too tight. While, without, the hot blast, dark with dust, flung +itself against the corners of the house, and howled like a soul in pain. + +Counsel for the defence made an excellent impression. "Naturally! I can +afford to pay a better-class man," was Mahony's caustic note. He had +fallen to scribbling on a sheet of paper, and was resigned to sitting +through an adept presentment of Ocock's shifts and dodges. But the +opening words made him prick up his ears. + +"My Lord," said counsel, "I submit there is here no case to go to the +jury. No written contract existed between the parties, to bring it +within the Statute of Frauds. Therefore, the plaintiff must prove that +the defendant accepted these goods. Now I submit to you, on the +plaintiff's own admission, that the man Murphy was a common carrier. +Your Lordship will know the cases of Hanson V. Armitage and various +others, in which it has been established beyond doubt that a carrier is +not an agent to accept goods." + +The judge had revived, and while counsel called the quality of the +undelivered goods in question, and laid stress on the fact of no money +having passed, he turned the pages of a thick red book with a moistened +thumb. Having found what he sought, he pushed up his spectacles, opened +his mouth, and, his eyes bent meditatively on the speaker, picked a back +tooth with the nail of his first finger. + +"Therefore," concluded counsel, "I hold that there is no question of +fact to go to the jury. I do not wish to occupy your Lordship's time any +further upon this submission. I have my client here, and all his +witnesses are in court whom I am prepared to call, should your Lordship +decide against me on the present point. But I do submit that the +plaintiff, on his own showing, has made out no case; and that under the +circumstances, upon his own evidence, this action must fail." + +At the reference to witnesses, Mahony dug his pencil into the paper till +the point snapped. So this was their little game! And should the bluff +not work . . .? He sat rigid, staring at the chipped fragment of lead, +and did not look up throughout the concluding scene of the farce. + +It was over; the judge had decided in his favour. He jumped to his feet, +and his coat-sleeve swept the dust off the entire length of the ledge in +front of him. But before he reached the foot of the stairs Grindle came +flying down, to say that Ocock wished to speak to him. Very good, +replied Mahony, he would call at the office in the course of the +afternoon. But the clerk left the courthouse at his side. And suddenly +the thought flashed through Mahony's mind: "The fellow suspects me of +trying to do a bolt--of wanting to make off without paying my bill!" + +The leech-like fashion in which Grindle stuck to his heels was not to be +misread. "This is what they call nursing, I suppose--he's nursing ME +now!" said Mahony to himself. At the same time he reckoned up, with some +anxiety, the money he had in his pocket. Should it prove insufficient, +who knew what further affronts were in store for him. + +But Ocock had recovered his oily sleekness. + +"A close shave that, sir, a VE-RY close shave! With Warnock on the bench +I thought we could manage to pull it off. Had it been Guppy now . . . +Still, all's well that ends well, as the poet says. And now for a +trifling matter of business." + +"How much do I owe you?" + +The bill--it was already drawn up--for "solicitor's and client's +costs" came to twenty odd pounds. Mahony paid it, and stalked out of the +office. + +But this was still not all. Once again Grindle ran after him, and pinned +him to the floor. + +"I say, Mr. Mahony, a rare joke--gad, it's enough to make you burst +your sides! That old thingumbob, the plaintiff, ye know, now what'n +earth d'you think 'e's been an' done? Gets outer court like one o'clock +--'e'd a sorter rabbit-fancyin' business in 'is backyard. Well, 'ome 'e +trots an' slits the guts of every blamed bunny, an' chucks the bloody +corpses inter the street. Oh lor! What do you say to that, eh? +Unfurnished in the upper storey, what? Heh, heh, heh!" + + + + +Chapter III + +How truly "home" the poor little gimcrack shanty had become to him, +Mahony grasped only when he once more crossed its threshold and Polly's +arms lay round his neck. + +His search for Johnny Ocock had detained him in Melbourne for over a +week. Under the guidance of young Grindle he had scoured the city, not +omitting even the dens of infamy in the Chinese quarter; and he did not +know which to be more saddened by: the revolting sights he saw, or his +guide's proud familiarity with every shade of vice. But nothing could be +heard of the missing lad; and at the suggestion of Henry Ocock he put an +advertisement in the ARGUS, offering a substantial reward for news of +Johnny alive or dead. + +While waiting to see what this would bring forth, he paid a visit to +John Turnham. It had not been part of his scheme to trouble his new +relatives on this occasion; he bore them a grudge for the way they had +met Polly's overture. But he was at his wits' end how to kill time: +chafing at the delay was his main employment, if he were not worrying +over the thought of having to appear before old Ocock without his son. +So, one midday he called at Turnham's place of business in Flinders +Lane, and was affably received by John, who carried him off to lunch at +the Melbourne Club. Turnham was a warm partisan of the diggers' cause. +He had addressed a mass meeting held in Melbourne, soon after the fight +on the Eureka; and he now roundly condemned the government's policy of +repression. + +"I am, as you are aware, my dear Mahony, no sentimentalist. But these +rioters of yours seem to me the very type of man the country needs. +Could we have a better bedrock on which to build than these fearless +champions of liberty?" + +He set an excellent meal before his brother-in-law, and himself ate and +drank heartily, unfolding his very table-napkin with a kind of relish. +In lunching, he inquired the object of Mahony's journey to town. At the +mention of Henry Ocock's name he raised his eyebrows and pursed his +lips. + +"Ah, indeed! Then it is hardly necessary to ask the upshot." + +He pooh-poohed Mahony's intention of staying till the defaulting witness +was found; disapproved, too, the offer of a reward. "To be paid out of +YOUR pocket, of course! No, my dear Mahony, set your mind at rest and +return to your wife. Lads of that sort never come to grief--more's the +pity! By the bye, how IS Polly, and how does she like life on the +diggings?" + +In this connection, Mahony tendered congratulations on the expected +addition to Turnham's family. John embarked readily enough on the theme +of his beautiful wife; but into his voice, as he talked, came a note of +impatience or annoyance, which formed an odd contrast to his wonted +self-possession. "Yes. . . her third, and for some reason which I cannot +fathom, it threatens to prove the most trying of any." And here he went +into medical detail on Mrs. Emma's state. + +Mahony urged compliance with the whims of the mother-to-be, even should +they seem extravagant. "Believe me, at a time like this such moods and +caprices have their use. Nature very well knows what she is about." + +"Nature? Bah! I am no great believer in nature," gave back John, and +emptied his glass of madeira. "Nature exists to be coerced and +improved." + +They parted; and Mahony went back to twirl his thumbs in the hotel +coffee-room. He could not persuade himself to take Turnham's advice and +leave Johnny to his fate. And the delay was nearly over. At dawn next +morning Johnny was found lying in a pitiable condition at the door of +the hotel. It took Mahony the best part of the day to rouse him; to make +him understand he was not to be horsewhipped; to purchase a fresh suit +of clothing for him: to get him, in short, halfway ready to travel the +following day--a blear-eyed, weak-witted craven, who fell into a cold +sweat at every bump of the coach. Not till they reached the end of the +awful journey--even a Chinaman rose to impudence about Johnny's nerves, +his foul breath, his cracked lips--did Mahony learn how the wretched +boy had come by the money for his debauch. At the public-house where the +coach drew up, old Ocock stood grimly waiting, with a leather thong at +his belt, and the news that his till had been broken open and robbed of +its contents. With an involuntary recommendation to mercy, Mahony handed +over the culprit and turned his steps home. + +Polly stood on tip-toe to kiss him; Pompey barked till the roof rang, +making leaps that fell wide of the mark; the cat hoisted its tail, and +wound purring in and out between his legs. Tea was spread, on a clean +cloth, with all sorts of good things to eat; an English mail had brought +him a batch of letters and journals. Altogether it was a very happy +home-coming. + +When he had had a sponge-down and finished tea, over which he listened, +with a zest that surprised him, to a hundred and one domestic details: +afterwards he and Polly strolled arm-in-arm to the top of the little +hill to which, before marriage, he used to carry her letters. Here they +sat and talked till night fell; and, for the first time, Mahony tasted +the dregless pleasure of coming back from the world outside with his +toll of adventure, and being met by a woman's lively and disinterested +sympathy. Agreeable incidents gained, those that were the reverse of +pleasing lost their sting by being shared with Polly. Not that he told +her everything; of the dark side of life he greatly preferred little +Polly to remain ignorant. Still, as far as it went, it was a delightful +experience. In return he confessed to her something of the uncertainty +that had beset him, on hearing his opponent's counsel state the case for +the other side. It was disquieting to think he might be suspected of +advancing a claim that was not strictly just. + +"Suspected? . . . YOU? Oh, how could anybody be so silly!" + +For all the fatigues of his day Mahony could not sleep. And after +tossing and tumbling for some time, he rose, threw on his clothing and +went out to smoke a pipe in front of the store. Various worries were +pecking at him--the hint he had given Polly of their existence seemed +to have let them fairly loose upon him. Of course he would be--he was-- +suspected of having connived at the imposture by which his suit was won +--why else have put it in the hands of such a one as Ocock? John +Turnham's soundless whistle of astonishment recurred to him, and flicked +him. Imagine it! He, Richard Mahony, giving his sanction to these queasy +tricks! + +It was bad enough to know that Ocock at any rate had believed him not +averse from winning by unjust means. Yet, on the whole, he thought this +mortified him less than to feel that he had been written down a Simple +Simon, whom it was easy to impose on. Ah well! At best he had been but a +kind of guy, set up for them to let off their verbal fireworks round. +Faith and that was all these lawyer-fellows wanted--the ghost of an +excuse for parading their skill. Justice played a negligible role in +this battle of wits; else not he but the plaintiff would have come out +victorious. That wretched Bolliver! . . . the memory of him wincing and +flushing in the witness-box would haunt him for the rest of his days. He +could see him, too, with equal clearness, broken-heartedly slitting the +gizzards of his, pets. A poor old derelict--the amen to a life which, +like most lives, had once been flush with promise. And it had been his +Mahony's., honourable portion to give the last kick, the ultimate shove +into perdition. Why, he would rather have lost the money ten times over! + +To divert his mind, he began next morning to make an inventory of the +goods in the store. It was high time, too: thanks to the recent +disturbances he did not know where he stood. And while he was about it, +he gave the place a general clean-up. A job of this kind was a powerful +ally in keeping edged thoughts at bay. He and his men had their hands +full for several days, Polly, who was not allowed to set foot in the +store, peeping critically in at them to see how they progressed. And, +after business hours, there was little Polly herself. + +He loved to contemplate her. + +Six months of married life had worked certain changes in his black-eyed +slip of a girl; but something of the doe-like shyness that had caught +his fancy still clung to her. With strangers she could even yet be +touchingly bashful. Not long out of short frocks, she found it difficult +to stand upon her dignity as Mrs. Dr. Mahony. Besides, it was second +nature to Polly to efface herself, to steal mousily away. Unless, of +course, some one needed help or was in distress, in which case she +forgot to be shy. To her husband's habits and idiosyncrasies she had +adapted herself implicitly--but this came easy; for she was sure +everything Richard did was right, and that his way of looking at things +was the one and only way. So there was no room for discord between them. +By this time Polly could laugh over the dismay of her first homecoming: +the pitch-dark night and unfamiliar road, the racket of the serenade, +the apparition of the great spider: now, all this might have happened to +somebody else, not Polly Mahony. Her dislike of things that creep and +crawl was, it is true, inborn, and persisted; but nowadays if one of the +many "triantelopes" that infested the roof showed its hairy legs, she +had only to call Hempel, and out the latter would pop with a broomstick, +to do away with the creature. If a scorpion or a centipede wriggled from +under a log, the cry of "Tom!" would bring the idle lad next door +double-quick over the fence. Polly had learnt not to summon her husband +on these occasions; for Richard held to the maxim: "Live and let live." +If at night a tarantula appeared on the bedroom-wall, he caught it in a +covered glass and carried it outside: "Just to come in again," was her +rueful reflection. But indeed Polly was surrounded by willing helpers. +And small wonder, thought Mahony. Her young nerves were so sound that +Hempel's dry cough never grated them: she doctored him and fussed over +him, and was worried that she could not cure him. She met Long Jim's +grumbles with a sunny face, and listened patiently to his forebodings +that he would never see "home" or his old woman again. She even brought +out a clumsy good-will in the young varmint Tom; nor did his old +father's want of refinement repel her. + +"But, Richard, he's such a kind old man," she met her husband's +admission of this stumbling-block. "And it isn't his fault that he +wasn't properly educated. He has had to work for his living ever since +he was twelve years old." + +And Mr. Ocock cried quits by remarking confidentially: "That little lady +o' yours 'as got 'er 'eadpiece screwed on the right way. It beats me, +doc., why you don't take 'er inter the store and learn 'er the bizness. +No offence, I'm sure," he made haste to add, disconcerted by Mahony's +cold stare. + +Had anyone at this date tried to tell Polly she lived in a mean, rough +home, he would have had a poor reception. Polly was long since certain +that not a house on the diggings could compare with theirs. This was a +trait Mahony loved in her--her sterling loyalty; a loyalty that +embraced not only her dear ones themselves, but every stick and stone +belonging to them. His discovery of it helped him to understand her +allegiance to her own multicoloured family: in the beginning he had +almost doubted its sincerity. Now, he knew her better. It was just as +though a sixth sense had been implanted in Polly, enabling her to pierce +straight through John's self-sufficiency or Ned's vapourings, to the +real kernel of goodness that no doubt lay hid below. He himself could +not get at it; but then his powers of divination were the exact opposite +of Polly's. He was always struck by the weak or ridiculous side of a +person, and had to dig laboriously down to the virtues. While his young +wife, by a kind of genius, saw the good at a glance--and saw nothing +else. And she did not stint with her gift, or hoard it up solely for use +on her own kith and kin. Her splendid sympathy was the reverse of +clannish; it was applied to every mortal who crossed her path. + +Yes, for all her youth, Polly had quite a character of her own; and even +thus early her husband sometimes ran up against a certain native +sturdiness of opinion. But this did not displease him; on the contrary, +he would have thanked you for a wife who was only an echo of himself. To +take the case of the animals. He had a profound respect for those +creatures to which speech has been denied; and he treated the four-footers +that dwelt under his roof as his fellows, humanising them, +reading his own thoughts into them, and showing more consideration for +their feelings than if they had been able to speak up for themselves. +Polly saw this in the light of an exquisite joke. She was always kind to +Pompey and the stately Palmerston, and would as soon have forgotten to +set Richard's dinner before him as to feed the pair; but they remained +"the dog" and "the cat" to her, and, if they had enough to eat, and +received neither kicks nor blows, she could not conceive of their souls +asking more. It went beyond her to study the cat's dislike to being +turned off its favourite chair, or to believe that the dog did not make +dirty prints on her fresh scrubbed floor out of malice prepense; it was +also incredible that he should have doggy fits of depression, in which +up he must to stick a cold, slobbery snout into a warm human hand. And +when Richard tried to conciliate Palmerston stalking sulky to the door, +or to pet away the melancholy in the rejected Pompey's eyes, Polly had +to lay down her sewing and laugh at her husband, so greatly did his +behaviour amuse her. + +Again, there was the question of literature. Books to Mahony were almost +as necessary as bread; to his girl-wife, on the other hand, they seemed +a somewhat needless luxury--less vital by far than the animals that +walked the floor. She took great care of the precious volumes Richard +had had carted up from Melbourne; but the cost of the transport was what +impressed her most. It was not an overstatement, thought Mahony, to say +that a stack of well-chopped, neatly piled wood meant more to Polly than +all the books ever written. Not that she did not enjoy a good story: her +work done, she liked few things better; and he often smiled at the ease +with which she lived herself into the world of make-believe, knowing, of +course, that it WAS make-believe and just a kind of humbug. But poetry, +and the higher fiction! Little Polly's professed love for poetry had +been merely a concession to the conventional idea of girlhood; or, at +best, such a burning wish to be all her Richard desired, that, at the +moment, she was convinced of the truth of what she said. But did he read +to her from his favourite authors her attention WOULD wander, in spite +of the efforts she made to pin it down. + +Mahony declaimed: + +'TIS THE SUNSET OF LIFE GIVES US MYSTICAL LORE, + +AND COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE, + +and his pleasure in the swing of the couplet was such that he repeated +it. + +Polly wakened with a start. Her thoughts had been miles away--had been +back at the "Family Hotel". There Purdy, after several adventures, his +poor leg a mass of supuration, had at length betaken himself, to be +looked after by his Tilly; and Polly's hopes were all alight again. + +She blushed guiltily at the repetition, and asked her husband to say the +lines once again. He did so. + +"But they don't really, Richard, do they?" she said in an apologetic +tone--she referred to the casting of shadows. "It would be so useful if +they did--" and she drew a sigh at Purdy's dilatory treatment of the +girl who loved him so well. + +"Oh, you prosaic little woman!" cried Mahony, and laid down his book to +kiss her. It was impossible to be vexed with Polly: she was so honest, +so transparent. "Did you never hear of a certain something called poetic +licence?" + +No: Polly was more or less familiar with various other forms of licence, +from the gold-diggers' that had caused all the fuss, down to the special +licence by which she had been married; but this particular one had not +come her way. And on Richard explaining to her the liberty poets allowed +themselves, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and was sorry to +think he approved. It seemed to her just a fine name for wanton +exaggeration--if not something worse. + +There were also those long evenings they spent over the first hundred +pages of WAVERLEY. Mahony, eager for her to share his enthusiasm, +comforted her each night anew that they would soon reach the story +proper, and then, how interested she would be! But the opening chapters +were a sandy desert of words, all about people duller than any Polly had +known alive; and sometimes, before the book was brought out, she would +heave a secret sigh--although, of course, she enjoyed sitting cosily +together with Richard, watching him and listening to his voice. But they +might have put their time to a pleasanter use: by talking of themselves, +or their friends, or how further to improve their home, or what the +store was doing. + +Mahony saw her smiling to herself one evening; and after assuring +himself that there was nothing on the page before him to call that +pleased look to her young face, he laid the book down and offered her a +penny for her thoughts. But Polly was loath to confess to wool-gathering. + +"I haven't succeeded in interesting you, have I, Pollikins?" + +She made haste to contradict him. Oh, it was very nice, and she loved to +hear him read. + +"Come, honestly now, little woman!" + +She faced him squarely at that, though with pink cheeks. "Well, not +much, Richard." + +He took her on his knee. "And what were you smiling at?" + +"Me? Oh, I was just thinking of something that happened yesterday"--and +Polly sat up, agog to tell. + +It appeared that the day before, while he was out, the digger's wife who +did Polly's rough work for her had rushed in, crying that her youngest +was choking. Bonnetless, Polly had flown across to the woman's hut. +There she discovered the child, a fat youngster of a year or so, purple +in the face, with a button wedged in its throat. Taking it by the heels +she shook the child vigorously, upside-down; and, lo and behold! this +had the opposite effect to what she intended. When they straightened the +child out again the button was found to have passed the danger-point and +gone down. Quickly resolved, Polly cut slice on slice of thin +bread-and-butter, and with this she and Mrs. Hemmerde stuffed the willing +babe till, full to bursting, it warded them off with its tiny hands. + +Mahony laughed heartily at the tale, and applauded his wife's prompt +measures. "Short of the forceps nothing could have been better!" + +Yes, Polly had a dash of native shrewdness, which he prized. And a pair +of clever hands that were never idle. He had given her leave to make any +changes she chose in the house, and she was for ever stitching away at +white muslin, or tacking it over pink calico. These affairs made their +little home very spick and span, and kept Polly from feeling dull--if +one could imagine Polly dull! With the cooking alone had there been a +hitch in the beginning. Like a true expert Mrs. Beamish had not +tolerated understudies: none but the lowliest jobs, such as raisin-stoning +or potato-peeling, had fallen to the three girls' share: and in +face of her first fowl Polly stood helpless and dismayed. But not for +long. Sarah was applied to for the best cookery-book on sale in +Melbourne, and when this arrived, Polly gave herself up to the study of +it. She had many failures, both private and avowed. With the worst, she +either retired behind the woodstack, or Tom disposed of them for her, or +the dog ate them up. But she persevered: and soon Mahony could with +truth declare that no one raised a better loaf or had a lighter hand at +pastry than his wife. + +Three knocks on the wooden partition was the signal which, if he were +not serving a customer, summoned him to the kitchen. + +"Oh, Richard, it's ripen beautifully!" And, red with heat and pride, +Polly drew a great golden-crusted, blown-up sponge-cake along the oven +shelf. Richard, who had a sweet tooth, pretended to be unable to curb +his impatience. + +"Wait! First I must see . . ." and she plunged a knife into the cake's +heart: it came out untarnished. "Yes, it's done to a turn." + +There and then it was cut; for, said Mahony, that was the only way in +which he could make sure of a piece. Afterwards chunks were dealt out to +every one Polly knew--to Long Jim, Hempel, Tommy Ocock, the little +Hemmerdes. Side by side on the kitchen-table, their feet dangling in the +air, husband and wife sat boy-and-girl fashion and munched hot cake, +till their appetites for dinner were wrecked. + +But the rains that heralded winter--and they set in early that year-- +had not begun to fall when more serious matters claimed Mahony's +attention. + + + + +Chapter IV + +It was an odd and inexplicable thing that business showed no sign of +improving. Affairs on Ballarat had, for months past, run their usual +prosperous course. The western township grew from day to day, and was +straggling right out to the banks of the great swamp. On the Flat, the +deep sinking that was at present the rule--some parties actually +touched a depth of three hundred feet before bottoming--had brought a +fresh host of fortune-hunters to the spot, and the results obtained bid +fair to rival those of the first golden year. The diggers' grievances +and their conflict with the government were now a turned page. At a +state trial all prisoners had been acquitted, and a general amnesty +declared for those rebels who were still at large. Unpopular ministers +had resigned or died; a new constitution for the colony awaited the +Royal assent; and pending this, two of the rebel-leaders, now prominent +townsmen, were chosen to sit in the Legislative Council. The future +could not have looked rosier. For others, that was. For him, Mahony, it +held more than one element of uncertainty. + +At no time had he come near making a fortune out of storekeeping. For +one thing, he had been too squeamish. From the outset he had declined to +soil his hands with surreptitious grog-selling; nor would he be a party +to that evasion of the law which consisted in overcharging on other +goods, and throwing in drinks free. Again, he would rather have been +hamstrung than stoop to the tricks in vogue with regard to the weighing +of gold-dust: the greased scales, the wet sponge, false beams, and so +on. Accordingly, he had a clearer conscience than the majority and a +lighter till. But even at the legitimate ABC of business he had proved a +duffer. He had never, for instance, learned to be a really skilled hand +at stocking a shop. Was an out-of-the-way article called for, ten to one +he had run short of it; and the born shopman's knack of palming off or +persuading to a makeshift was not his. Such goods as he had, he did not +press on people; his attitude was always that of "take it or leave it"; +and he sometimes surprised a ridiculous feeling of satisfaction when he +chased a drunken and insolent customer off the premises, or secured an +hour's leisure unbroken by the jangle of the store-bell. + +Still, in spite of everything he had, till recently, done well enough. +Money was loose, and the diggers, if given long credit when down on +their luck, were in the main to be relied on to pay up when they struck +the lead or tapped a pocket. He had had slack seasons before now, and +things had always come right again. This made it hard for him to explain +the present prolonged spell of dullness. + +That there was something more than ordinarily wrong first dawned on him +during the stock-taking in summer. Hempel and he were constantly coming +upon goods that had been too long on hand, and were now fit only to be +thrown away. Half-a-dozen boxes of currants showed a respectable growth +of mould; a like fate had come upon some flitches of bacon; and not a +bag of flour but had developed a species of minute maggot. Rats had got +at his coils of rope, one of which, sold in all good faith, had gone +near causing the death of the digger who used it. The remains of some +smoked fish were brought back and flung at his head with a shower of +curses, by a woman who had fallen ill through eating of it. And yet, in +spite of the replenishing this involved, the order he sent to town that +season was the smallest he had ever given. For the first time he could +not fill a dray, but had to share one with a greenhorn, who, if you +please, was setting up at his very door. + +He and Hempel cracked their brains to account for the falling-off--or +at least he did: afterwards he believed Hempel had suspected the truth +and been too mealy-mouthed to speak out. It was Polly who innocently-- +for of course he did not draw her into confidence--Polly supplied the +clue from a piece of gossip brought to the house by the woman Hemmerde. +It appeared that, at the time of the rebellion, Mahony's open antagonism +to the Reform League had given offence all round--to the extremists as +well as to the more wary on whose behalf the League was drafted. They +now got even with him by taking their custom elsewhere. He snorted with +indignation on hearing of it; then laughed ironically. He was expected, +was he, not only to bring his personal tastes and habits into line with +those of the majority, but to deny his politics as well? And if he +refused, they would make it hard for him to earn a decent living in +their midst. Nothing seemed easier to these unprincipled democrats than +for a man to cut his coat to suit his job. Why, he might just as well +turn Whig and be done with it! + +He sat over his account-books. The pages were black with bad debts for +"tucker." Here however was no mystery. The owners of these names--Purdy +was among them--had without doubt been implicated in the Eureka riot, +and had made off and never returned. He struck a balance, and found to +his consternation that, unless business took a turn for the better, he +would not be able to hold out beyond the end of the year. Afterwards, he +was blessed if he knew what was going to happen. The ingenious Hempel +was full of ideas for tempting back fortune--opening a branch store on +a new lead was one of them, or removing bodily to Main Street--but +ready money was the SINE QUA NON of such schemes, and ready money he had +not got. Since his marriage he had put by as good as nothing; and the +enlarging and improving of his house, at that time, had made a big hole +in his bachelor savings. He did not feel justified at the present pass +in drawing on them anew. For one thing, before summer was out there +would be, if all went well, another mouth to feed. And that meant a +variety of seen and unforeseen expenses. + +Such were the material anxieties he had to encounter in the course of +that winter. Below the surface a subtler embarrassment worked to destroy +his peace. In face of the shortage of money, he was obliged to thank his +stars that he had not lost the miserable lawsuit of a few months back. +Had that happened, he wouldn't at present have known where to turn. But +this amounted to confessing his satisfaction at having pulled off his +case, pulled it off anyhow, by no matter what crooked means. And as if +this were not enough, the last words he had heard Purdy say came back to +sting him anew. The boy had accused him of judging a fight for freedom +from a tradesman's standpoint. Now it might be said of him that he was +viewing justice from the same angle. He had scorned the idea of +distorting his political opinions to fit the trade by which he gained +his bread. But it was a far more serious thing if his principles, his +character, his sense of equity were all to be undermined as well. If he +stayed here, he would end by becoming as blunt to what was right and +fair as the rest of them. As it was, he was no longer able to regard the +two great landmarks of man's moral development--liberty and justice-- +from the point of view of an honest man and a gentleman. + +His self-annoyance was so great that it galvanised him to action. There +and then he made up his mind: as soon as the child that was coming to +them was old enough to travel, he would sell out for what he could get, +and go back to the old country. Once upon a time he had hoped, when he +went, to take a good round sum with him towards a first-rate English +practice. Now he saw that this scheme had been a kind of Jack-o'-lantern +--a marsh-light after which he might have danced for years to come. As +matters stood, he must needs be content if, the passage-moneys paid, he +could scrape together enough to keep him afloat till he found a modest +corner to slip into. + +His first impulse was to say nothing of this to his wife in the +meantime. Why unsettle her? But he had reckoned without the sudden +upward leap his spirits made, once his decision was taken: the winter +sky was blue as violets again above him; he turned out light-heartedly +of a morning. It was impossible to hide the change in his mood from +Polly--even if he had felt it fair to do so. Another thing: when he +came to study Polly by the light of his new plan, he saw that his +scruples about unsettling her were fanciful--wraiths of his own +imagining. As a matter of fact, the sooner he broke the news to her the +better. Little Polly was so thoroughly happy here that she would need +time to accustom herself to the prospect of life elsewhere. + +He went about it very cautiously though; and with no hint of the sour +and sorry incidents that had driven him to the step. As was only +natural, Polly was rather easily upset at present: the very evening +before, he had had occasion to blame himself for his tactless behaviour. + +In her first sick young fear Polly had impulsively written off to Mother +Beamish, to claim the fulfilment of that good woman's promise to stand +by her when her time came. One letter gave another; Mrs. Beamish not +only announced that she would hold herself ready to support her "little +duck" at a moment's notice, but filled sheets with sage advice and old +wives' maxims; and the correspondence, which had languished, flared up +anew. Now came an ill-scrawled, misspelt epistle from Tilly--doleful, +too, for Purdy had once more quitted her without speaking the binding +word--in which she told that Purdy's leg, though healed, was +permanently shortened; the doctor in Geelong said he would never walk +straight again. + +Husband and wife sat and discussed the news, wondered how lameness would +affect Purdy's future and what he was doing now, Tilly not having +mentioned his whereabouts. "She has probably no more idea than we have," +said Mahony. + +"I'm afraid not," said Polly with a sigh. "Well, I hope he won't come +back here, that's all"; and she considered the seam she was sewing, with +an absent air. + +"Why, love? Don't you like old Dickybird?" asked Mahony in no small +surprise. + +"Oh yes, quite well. But. . ." + +"Is it because he still can't make up his mind to take your Tilly--eh?" + +"That, too. But chiefly because of something he said." + +"And what was that, my dear?" + +"Oh, very silly," and Polly smiled. + +"Out with it, madam! Or I shall suspect the young dog of having made +advances to my wife." + +"Richard, DEAR!" Little Polly thought he was in earnest, and grew +exceedingly confused. "Oh no, nothing like that," she assured him, and +with red cheeks rushed into an explanation. "He only said, in spite of +you being such old friends he felt you didn't really care to have him +here on Ballarat. After a time you always invented some excuse to get +him away." But now that it was out, Polly felt the need of toning down +the statement, and added: "I shouldn't wonder if he was silly enough to +think you were envious of him, for having so many friends and being +liked by all sorts of people." + +"Envious of him? I? Who on earth has been putting such ideas into your +head?" cried Mahony. + +"It was 'mother' thought so--it was while I was still there," stammered +Polly, still more fluttered by the fact of him fastening on just these +words. + +Mahony tried to quell his irritation by fidgeting round the room. +"Surely, Polly, you might give up calling that woman 'mother,' now you +belong to me--I thank you for the relationship!" he said testily. And +having with much unnecessary ado knocked the ashes out of his pipe, he +went on: "It's bad enough to say things of that kind; but to repeat +them, love, is in even poorer taste." + +"Yes, Richard," said Polly meekly. + +But her amazed inner query was: "Not even to one's own husband?" + +She hung her head, till the white thread of parting between the dark +loops of her hair was almost perpendicular. She had spoken without +thinking in the first place--had just blurted out a passing thought. +But even when forced to explain, she had never dreamt of Richard taking +offence. Rather she had imagined the two of them--two banded lovingly +against one--making merry together over Purdy's nonsense. She had heard +her husband laugh away much unkinder remarks than this. And perhaps if +she had stopped there, and said no more, it might have been all right. +By her stupid attempt to gloss things over, she had really managed to +hurt him, and had made him think her gossipy into the bargain. + +She went on with her sewing. But when Mahony came back from the brisk +walk by means of which he got rid of his annoyance, he fancied, though +Polly was as cheery as ever and had supper laid for him, that her +eyelids were red. + +This was why, the following evening, he promised himself to be discreet. + +Winter had come in earnest; the night was wild and cold. Before the +crackling stove the cat lay stretched at full length, while Pompey dozed +fitfully, his nose between his paws. The red-cotton curtains that hung +at the little window gave back the lamplight in a ruddy glow; the clock +beat off the seconds evenly, except when drowned by the wind, which came +in bouts, hurling itself against the corners of the house. And +presently, laying down his book--Polly was too busy now to be read to-- +Mahony looked across at his wife. She was wrinkling her pretty brows +over the manufacture of tiny clothes, a rather pale little woman still, +none of the initial discomforts of her condition having been spared her. +Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up and smiled: did ever anyone see +such a ridiculous armhole? Three of one's fingers were enough to fill it +--and she held the little shirt aloft for his inspection. Here was his +chance: the child's coming offered the best of pretexts. Taking not only +the midget garment but also the hand that held it, he told her of his +resolve to go back to England and re-enter his profession. + +"You know, love, I've always wished to get home again. And now there's +an additional reason. I don't want my . . . our children to grow up in a +place like this. Without companions--or refining influences. Who knows +how they would turn out?" + +He said it, but in his heart he knew that his children would be safe +enough. And Polly, listening to him, made the same reservation: yes, but +OUR children. . . . + +"And so I propose, as soon as the youngster's old enough to travel, to +haul down the flag for good and all, and book passages for the three of +us in some smart clipper. We'll live in the country, love. Think of it, +Polly! A little gabled, red-roofed house at the foot of some Sussex +down, with fruit trees and a high hedge round it, and only the oast-houses +peeping over. Doesn't it make your mouth water, my dear?" + +He had risen in his eagerness, and stood with his back to the stove, his +legs apart. And Polly nodded and smiled up at him--though, truth to +tell, the picture he drew did not mean much to her: she had never been +in Sussex, nor did she know what an oast-house was. A night such as +this, with flying clouds and a shrill, piping wind, made her think of +angry seas and a dark ship's cabin, in which she lay deathly sick. But +it was not Polly's way to dwell on disagreeables: her mind glanced off +to a pleasanter theme. + +"Have you ever thought, Richard, how strange it will seem when there ARE +three of us? You and I will never be quite alone together again. Oh, I +do hope he will be a good baby and not cry much. It will worry you if he +does--like Hempel's cough. And then you won't love him properly." + +"I shall love it because it is yours, my darling. And the baby of such a +dear little mother is sure to be good." + +"Oh, babies will be babies, you know!" said Polly, with a new air of +wisdom which sat delightfully on her. + +Mahony pinched her cheek. "Mrs. Mahony, you're shirking my question. +Tell me now, should you not be pleased to get back to England?" + +"I'll go wherever you go, Richard," said Polly staunchly. "Always. And +of course I should like to see mother--I mean my real mother--again. +But then Ned's here . . . and John, and Sarah. I should be very sorry to +leave them. I don't think any of them will ever go home now." + +"They may be here, but they don't trouble YOU often, my dear," said +Mahony, with more than a hint of impatience. "Especially Ned the +well-beloved, who lives not a mile from your door." + +"I know he doesn't often come to see us, Richard. But he's only a boy; +and has to work so hard. You see it's like this. If Ned should get into +any trouble, I'm here to look after him; and I know that makes mother's +mind easier--Ned was always her favourite." + +"And an extraordinary thing, too! I believe it's the boy's good looks +that blind you women to his faults." + +"Oh no, indeed it isn't!" declared Polly warmly. "It's just because +Ned's Ned. The dearest fellow, if you really know him." + +"And so your heart's anchored here, little wife, and would remain here +even if I carried your body off to England?" + +"Oh no, Richard," said Polly again. "My heart would always be where you +are. But I can't help wondering how Ned would get on alone. And Jerry +will soon be here too, now, and he's younger still. And HOW I should +like to see dear Tilly settled before I go!" + +Judging that enough had been said for the time being, Mahony re-opened +his book, leaving his wife to chew the cud of innocent matchmaking and +sisterly cares. + +In reality Polly's reflections were of quite another nature. + +Her husband's abrupt resolve to leave the colony, disturbing though it +was, did not take her altogether by surprise. She would have needed to +be both deaf and blind not to notice that the store-bell rang much +seldomer than it used to, and that Richard had more spare time on his +hands. Yes, trade was dull, and that made him fidgety. Now she had +always known that someday it would be her duty to follow Richard to +England. But she had imagined that day to be very far off--when they +were elderly people, and had saved up a good deal of money. To hear the +date fixed for six months hence was something of a shock to her. And it +was at this point that Polly had a sudden inspiration. As she listened +to Richard talking of resuming his profession, the thought flashed +through her mind: why not here? Why should he not start practice in +Ballarat, instead of travelling all those thousands of miles to do it? + +This was what she ruminated while she tucked and hemmed. She could +imagine, of course, what his answer would be. He would say there were +too many doctors on Ballarat already; not more than a dozen of them made +satisfactory incomes. But this argument did not convince Polly. Richard +wasn't, perhaps, a great success at storekeeping; but that was only +because he was too good for it. As a doctor, he with his cleverness and +gentlemanly manners would soon, she was certain, stand head and +shoulders above the rest. And then there would be money galore. It was +true he did not care for Ballarat--was down on both place and people. +But this objection, too, Polly waived. It passed belief that anybody +could really dislike this big, rich, bustling, go-ahead township, where +such handsome buildings were springing up and every one was so friendly. +In her heart she ascribed her husband's want of love for it to the +"infra dig" position he occupied. If he mixed with his equals again and +got rid of the feeling that he was looked down on, it would make all the +difference in the world to him. He would then be out of reach of snubs +and slights, and people would understand him better--not the residents +on Ballarat alone, but also John, and Sarah, and the Beamishes, none of +whom really appreciated Richard. In her mind's eye Polly had a vision of +him going his rounds mounted on a chestnut horse, dressed in surtout and +choker, and hand and glove with the bigwigs of society--the gentlemen +at the Camp, the Police Magistrate and Archdeacon Long, the rich +squatters who lived at the foot of Mount Buninyong. It brought the +colour to her cheeks merely to think of it. + +She did not, however, breathe a word of this to Richard. She was a shade +wiser than the night before, when she had vexed him by blurting out her +thoughts. And the present was not the right time to speak. In these days +Richard was under the impression that she needed to be humoured. He +might agree with her against his better judgment, or, worse still, +pretend to agree. And Polly didn't want that. She wished fairly to +persuade him that, by setting up here on the diggings where he was known +and respected, he would get on quicker, and make more money, than if he +buried himself in some poky English village where no one had ever heard +of him. + +Meanwhile the unconscious centre of her ambitions wore a perplexed +frown. Mahony was much exercised just now over the question of medical +attendance for Polly. The thought of coming into personal contact with a +member of the fraternity was distasteful to him; none of them had an +inkling who or what he was. And, though piqued by their +unsuspectingness, he at the same time feared lest it should not be +absolute, and he have the ill-luck to hit on a practitioner who had +heard of his stray spurts of doctoring and written him down a charlatan +and a quack. For this reason he would call in no one in the immediate +neighbourhood--even the western township seemed too near. Ultimately, +his choice fell on a man named Rogers who hailed from Mount Pleasant, +the rise on the opposite side of the valley and some two miles off. It +was true since he did not intend to disclose his own standing, the +distance would make the fellow's fees mount up. But Rogers was at least +properly qualified (half those claiming the title of physician were +impudent impostors, who didn't know a diploma from the Ten +Commandments), of the same ALMA MATER as himself--not a contemporary, +though, he took good care of that!--and, if report spoke true, a +skilful and careful obstetrician. + +When, however, in response to a note carried by Long Jim Rogers drew +rein in front of the store, Mahony was not greatly impressed by him. He +proved to be a stout, reddish man, some ten years Mahony's senior, with +a hasty-pudding face and an undecided manner. There be sat, his ten +spread finger-tips meeting and gently tapping one another across his +paunch, and nodding: "Just so, just so!" to all he heard. He had the +trick of saying everything twice over. "Needs to clinch his own +opinion!" was Mahony's swift diagnosis. Himself, he kept in the +background. And was he forced to come forward his manner was both stiff +and forbidding, so on tenterhooks was he lest the other should presume +to treat him as anything but the storekeeper he gave himself out to be. + +A day or so later who but the wife must arrive to visit Polly!--a piece +of gratuitous friendliness that could well have been dispensed with; +even though Mahony felt it keenly that, at this juncture, Polly should +lack companions of her own sex. But Rogers had married beneath him, and +the sight of the pursy upstart--there were people on the Flat who +remembered her running barefoot and slatternly--sitting there, in satin +and feathers, lording it over his own little Jenny Wren, was more than +Mahony could tolerate. The distance was put forward as an excuse for +Polly not returning the call, and Polly was docile as usual; though for +her part she had thought her visitor quite a pleasant, kindly woman. But +then Polly never knew when she was being patronised! + +To wipe out any little trace of disappointment, her husband suggested +that she should write and ask one of the Beamish girls to stay with her: +it would keep her from feeling the days long. + +But Polly only laughed. "Long?--when I have so much sewing to do?" + +No, she did not want company. By now, indeed, she regretted having sent +off that impulsive invitation to Mrs. Beamish for the end of the year. +Puzzle as she would, she could not see how she was going to put "mother" +comfortably up. + +Meanwhile the rains were changing the familiar aspect of the place. +Creeks--in summer dry gutters of baked clay--were now rich red rivers; +and the yellow Yarrowee ran full to the brim, keeping those who lived +hard by it in a twitter of anxiety. The steep slopes of Black Hill +showed thinly green; the roads were ploughed troughs of sticky mire. +Occasional night frosts whitened the ground, bringing cloudless days in +their wake. Then down came the rain once more, and fell for a week on +end. The diggers were washed out of their holes, the Flat became an +untraversable bog. And now there were floods in earnest: the creeks +turned to foaming torrents that swept away trees and the old roots of +trees; and the dwellers on the river banks had to fly for their bare +lives. + +Over the top of book or newspaper Mahony watched his wife stitch, +stitch, stitch, with a zeal that never flagged, at the dolly garments. +Just as he could read his way, so Polly sewed hers, through the time of +waiting. But whereas she, like a sensible little woman, pinned her +thoughts fast to the matter in hand, he let his range freely over the +future. Of the many good things this had in store for him, one in +particular whetted his impatience. It took close on a twelvemonth out +here to get hold of a new book. On Ballarat not even a stationer's +existed; nor were there more than a couple of shops in Melbourne itself +that could be relied on to carry out your order. You perforce fell +behind in the race, remained ignorant of what was being said and done-- +in science, letters, religious controversy--in the great world +overseas. To this day he didn't know whether Agassiz had or had not been +appointed to the chair of Natural History in Edinburgh; or whether fresh +heresies with regard to the creation of species had spoiled his chances; +did not know whether Hugh Miller had actually gone crazy over the +VESTIGES; or even if those arch-combatants, Syme and Simpson, had at +length sheathed their swords. Now, however, God willing, he would before +very long be back in the thick of it all, in intimate touch with the +doings of the most wide-awake city in Europe; and new books and +pamphlets would come into his possession as they dropped hot from the +press. + + + + +Chapter V + +And then one morning--it was spring now, and piping hot at noon--Long +Jim brought home from the post-office a letter for Polly, addressed in +her sister Sarah's sloping hand. Knowing the pleasure it would give her, +Mahony carried it at once to his wife; and Polly laid aside broom and +duster and sat down to read. + +But he was hardly out of the room when a startled cry drew him back to +her side. Polly had hidden her face, and was shaken by sobs As he could +not get her to speak, Mahony picked up the letter from the floor and +read it for himself. + +Sarah wrote like one distracted. + +OH, MY DEAR SISTER, HOW CAN I FIND WORDS TO TELL YOU OF THE TRULY +"AWFUL" CALAMITY THAT HAS BEFALLEN OUR UNHAPPY BROTHER. Mahony skipped +the phrases, and learnt that owing to a carriage accident Emma Turnham +had been prematurely confined, and, the best medical aid notwithstanding +--JOHN SPARED ABSOLUTELY "NO" EXPENSE--had died two days later. JOHN IS +LIKE A MADMAN. DIRECTLY I HEARD THE "SHOCKING" NEWS, I AT ONCE THREW UP +MY ENGAGEMENT--AT "SERIOUS" LOSS TO MYSELF, BUT THAT IS A MATTER OF +SMALL CONSEQUENCE--AND CAME TO TAKE MY PLACE BESIDE OUR POOR DEAR +BROTHER IN HIS GREAT TRIAL. BUT ALL MY EFFORTS TO BRING HIM TO A PROPER +AND "CHRISTIAN" FRAME OF MIND HAVE BEEN FRUITLESS. I AM INDEED ALARMED +TO BE ALONE WITH HIM, AND I TREMBLE FOR THE CHILDREN, FOR HE IS +POSSESSED OF AN "INSANE" HATRED FOR THE SWEET LITTLE LOVES. HE HAS +LOCKED HIMSELF IN HIS ROOM, WILL SEE "NO ONE" NOR TOUCH A "PARTICLE" OF +NOURISHMENT. DO, MY DEAREST POLLY, COME AT ONCE ON RECEIPT OF THIS, AND +HELP ME IN THE "TRULY AWFUL" TASK THAT HAS BEEN LAID UPON ME. AND PRAY +FORGIVE ME FOR USING THIS PLAIN PAPER. I HAVE HAD LITERALLY NO TIME TO +ORDER MOURNING "OF ANY KIND." + +So that was Sarah! With a click of the tongue Mahony tossed the letter +on the table, and made it clear to Polly that under no consideration +would he allow her to attempt the journey to town. Her relatives seemed +utterly to have forgotten her condition; if, indeed., they had ever +grasped the fact that she was expecting a child. + +But Polly did not heed him. "Oh, poor, poor Emma! Oh, poor dear John!" +Her husband could only soothe her by promising to go to Sarah's +assistance himself, the following day. + +They had been entirely in the dark about things. For John Turnham +thought proper to erect a jealous wall about his family life. What went +on behind it was nobody's business but his own. You felt yourself--were +meant to feel yourself--the alien, the outsider. And Mahony marvelled +once more at the wealth of love and sympathy his little Polly had kept +fresh for these two, who had wasted so few of their thoughts on her. + +Polly dried her eyes; he packed his carpet-bag. He did this with a good +deal of pother, pulling open the wrong drawers, tumbling up their +contents and generally making havoc of his wife's arrangements. But the +sight of his clumsiness acted as a kind of tonic on Polly: she liked to +feel that he was dependent on her for his material comfort and well-being. + +They spoke of John's brief married life. + +"He loved her like a pagan, my dear," said Mahony. "And if what your +sister Sarah writes is not exaggerated, he is bearing his punishment in +a truly pagan way." + +"But you won't say that to him, dear Richard . . . will you? You'll be +very gentle with him?" pleaded Polly anxiously. + +"Indeed I shall, little woman. But one can't help thinking these things, +all the same. You know it is written: 'Thou shalt have none other gods +but Me.'" + +"Yes, I know. But then this was JUST Emma . . . and she was so pretty +and so good"--and Polly cried anew. + +Mahony rose before dawn to catch the coach. Together with a packet of +sandwiches, Polly brought him a small black mantle. + +"For Sarah, with my dear love. You see, Richard, I know she always wears +coloured dresses. And she will feel so much happier if she has SOMETHING +black to put on." Little Polly's voice was deep with persuasion. Richard +was none too well pleased, she could see, at having to unlock his bag +again; she feared too, that, after the letter of the day before, his +opinion of Sarah had gone down to zero. + +Mahony secured a corner seat; and so, though his knees interlocked with +those of his VIS-A-VIS, only one of the eight inside passengers was +jammed against him. The coach started; and the long, dull hours of the +journey began to wear away. Nothing broke the monotony but speculations +whether the driver--a noted tippler--would be drunk before Melbourne +was reached and capsize them; and the drawling voice of a Yankee +prospector, who told lying tales about his exploits in California in '48 +until, having talked his hearers to sleep, he dropped off himself. Then, +Mahony fell to reflecting on what lay before him. He didn't like the +job. He was not one of your born good Samaritans: he relished intruding +as little as being intruded on. Besides, morally to sustain, to forbear +with, a fellow-creature in misfortune, seemed to him as difficult and +thankless a task as any required of one. Infinite tact was essential, +and a skin thick enough to stand snubs and rebuffs. But here he smiled. +"Or my little wife's inability to recognise them!" + +House and garden had lost their air of well-groomed smartness: the gate +stood ajar, the gravel was unraked, the verandah-flooring black with +footmarks. With all the blinds still down, the windows looked like so +many dead eyes. Mahony's first knock brought no response; at his second, +the door was opened by Sarah Turnham herself. But a very different Sarah +this, from the elegant and sprightly young person who had graced his +wedding. Her chignon was loose, her dress dishevelled. On recognising +Mahony, she uttered a cry and fell on his neck--he had to disengage her +arms by force and speak severely to her, declaring that he would go away +again, if she carried out her intention of swooning. + +At last he got her round so far that she could tell her tale, which she +did with a hysterical overstatement. She had, it seemed, arrived there +just before her sister-in-law died. John was quarrelling furiously with +all three doctors, and, before the end, insulted the only one who was +left in such a fashion that he, too, marched out of the house. They had +to get the dead woman measured, coffined and taken away by stealth. +Whereupon John had locked himself up in his room, and had not been seen +since. He had a loaded revolver with him; through the closed door he had +threatened to shoot both her and the children. The servants had +deserted, panic-stricken at their master's behaviour, at the sudden +collapse of the well-regulated household: the last, a nurse-girl sent +out on an errand some hours previously, had not returned. Sarah was at +her wits' end to know what to do with the children--he might hear them +screaming at this moment. + +Mahony, in no hesitancy now how to deal with the situation, laid his hat +aside and drew off his gloves. "Prepare some food," he said briefly. "A +glass of port and a sandwich or two, if you can manage nothing else-- +but meat of some kind." + +But there was not a morsel of meat in the house. + +"Then go to the butcher's and buy some." + +Sarah gasped, and bridled. She had never in her life been inside a +butcher's shop! + +"Good God, woman, then the sooner you make the beginning the better!" +cried Mahony. And as he strode down the passage to the door she +indicated, he added: "Now control yourself, madam! And if you have not +got what I want in a quarter of an hour's time, I'll walk out of the +house and leave you to your own devices!" At which Sarah, cowed and +shaken, began tremblingly to tie her bonnet-strings. + +Mahony knocked three times at the door of John Turnham's room, each time +more loudly. Then he took to battering with his fist on the panels, and +cried: "It is I, John, your brother-in-law! Have the goodness to unlock +this door at once!" + +There was still an instant of suspense; then heavy footsteps crossed the +floor and the door swung back. Mahony's eyes met a haggard white face +set in a dusky background. + +"You!" said John in a slow, dazed way, and blinked at the light. But in +the next breath he burst out: "Where's that damned fool of a woman? Is +she skulking behind you? I won't see her--won't have her near me!" + +"If you mean your sister Sarah, she is not in the house at present," +said Mahony; and stepping over the threshold he shut the door. The two +men faced each other in the twilight. + +"What do you want?" demanded John in a hoarse voice. "Have you, too, +come to preach and sermonise? If so, you can go back where you came +from! I'll have none of that cant here." + +"No, no, I leave that to those whose business it is. I'm here as your +doctor"; and Mahony drew up a blind and opened a window. Instantly the +level sun-rays flooded the room; and the air that came in with them +smacked of the sea. Just outside the window a quince-tree in full +blossom reared extravagant masses of pink snow against the blue +overhead; beyond it a covered walk of vines shone golden-green. There +was not a cloud in the sky. To turn back to the musty room from all this +lush and lovely life was like stepping down into a vault. + +John had sunk into a seat before a secretaire, and shielded his eyes +from the sun. A burnt-out candle stood at his elbow; and in a line +before him were ranged such images as remained to him of his dead--a +dozen or more daguerrotypes, of various sizes: Emma and he before +marriage and after marriage; Emma with her first babe, at different +stages of its growth; Emma with the two children; Emma in ball-attire; +with a hat on; holding a book. + +The sight gave the quietus to Mahony's scruples. Stooping, he laid his +hand on John's shoulder. "My poor fellow," he said gently. "Your sister +was not in a fit state to travel, so I have come in her place to tell +you how deeply, how truly, we feel for you in your loss. I want to try, +too, to help you to bear it. For it has to be borne, John." + +At this the torrent burst. Leaping to his feet John began to fling +wildly to and fro; and then, for a time, the noise of his lamentations +filled the room. Mahony had assisted at scenes of this kind before, but +never had he heard the like of the blasphemies that poured over John's +lips. (Afterwards, when he had recovered his distance, he would refer to +it as the occasion on which John took the Almighty to task, for having +dared to interfere in his private life.) + +At the moment he sat silent. "Better for him to get it out," he thought +to himself, even while he winced at John's scurrility. + +When, through sheer exhaustion, John came to a stop, Mahony cast about +for words of consolation. All reference to the mystery of God's way was +precluded; and he shrank from entering that sound plea for the working +of Time, which drives a spike into the heart of the new-made mourner. He +bethought himself of the children. "Remember, she did not leave you +comfortless. You have your little ones. Think of them." + +But this was a false move. Like a belated thunderclap after the storm is +over, John broke out again, his haggard eyes aflame. "Curse the +children!" he cried thickly. "Curse them, I say! If I had once caught +sight of them since she . . . she went, I should have wrung their necks. +I never wanted children. They came between us. They took her from me. It +was a child that killed her. Now, she is gone and they are left. Keep +them out of my way, Mahony! Don't let them near me.--Oh, Emma. . . +wife!" and here his shoulders heaved, under dry, harsh sobs. + +Mahony felt his own eyes grow moist. "Listen to me, John. I promise you, +you shall not see your children again until you wish to--till you're +glad to recall them, as a living gift from her you have lost. I'll look +after them for you." + +"You will? . . . God bless you, Mahony!" + +Judging the moment ripe, Mahony rose and went out to fetch the tray on +which Sarah had set the eatables. The meat was but a chop, charred on +one side, raw on the other; but John did not notice its shortcomings. He +fell on it like the starving man he was, and gulped down two or three +glasses of port. The colour returned to his face, he was able to give an +account of his wife's last hours. "And to talk is what he needs, even if +he goes on till morning." Mahony was quick to see that there were things +that rankled in John's memory, like festers in flesh. One was that, +knowing the greys were tricky, he had not forbidden them to Emma long +ago. But he had felt proud of her skill in handling the reins, of the +attention she attracted. Far from thwarting her, he had actually urged +her on. Her fall had been a light one, and at the outset no bad results +were anticipated: a slight haemorrhage was soon got under control. A +week later, however, it began anew, more violently, and then all +remedies were in vain. As it became clear that the child was dead, the +doctors had recourse to serious measures. But the bleeding went on. She +complained of a roaring in her ears, her extremities grew cold, her +pulse fluttered to nothing. She passed from syncope to coma, and from +coma to death. John swore that two of the doctors had been the worse for +drink; the third was one of those ignorant impostors with whom the place +swarmed. And again he made himself reproaches. + +"I ought to have gone to look for someone else. But she was dying . . . +I could not tear myself away.--Mahony, I can still see her. They had +stretched her across the bed, so that her head hung over the side. Her +hair swept the floor--one scoundrel trod on it . . . trod on her hair! +And I had to stand by and watch, while they butchered her--butchered my +girl.--Oh, there are things, Mahony, one cannot dwell on and live!" + +"You must not look at it like that. Yet, when I recall some of the cases +I've seen contraction induced in . . ." + +"Ah yes, if you had been here . . . my God, if only you had been here!" + +But Mahony did not encourage this idea; it was his duty to unhitch +John's thoughts from the past. He now suggested that, the children and +Sarah safe in his keeping, John should shut up the house and go away. To +his surprise John jumped at the proposal, was ready there and then to +put it into effect. Yes, said he, he would start the very next morning, +and with no more than a blanket on his back, would wander a hundred odd +miles into the bush, sleeping out under the stars at night, and day by +day increasing the distance between himself and the scene of his loss. +And now up he sprang, in a sudden fury to be gone. Warning Sarah into +the background, Mahony helped him get together a few necessaries, and +then walked him to a hotel. Here he left him sleeping under the +influence of a drug, and next day saw him off on his tramp northwards, +over the Great Divide. + +John's farewell words were: "Take the keys of the house with you, and +don't give them up to me under a month, at least." + +That day's coach was full; they had to wait for seats till the following +afternoon. The delay was not unwelcome to Mahony; it gave Polly time to +get the letter he had written her the night before. After leaving John, +he set about raising money for the extra fares and other unforeseen +expenses: at the eleventh hour, Sarah informed him that their young +brother Jerry had landed in Melbourne during Emma's illness, and had +been hastily boarded out. Knowing no one else in the city, Mahony was +forced, much as it went against the grain, to turn to Henry Ocock for +assistance. And he was effusively received--Ocock tried to press double +the sum needed on him. Fortune was no doubt smiling on the lawyer. His +offices had swelled to four rooms, with appropriate clerks in each. He +still, however, nursed the scheme of transferring his business to +Ballarat. + +"As soon, that is, as I can hear of suitable premises. I understand +there's only one locality to be considered, and that's the western +township." On which Mahony, whose address was in the outer darkness, +repeated his thanks and withdrew. + +He found Jerry's lodging, paid the bill, and took the boy back to St. +Kilda--a shy slip of a lad in his early teens, with the colouring and +complexion that ran in the family. John's coachman, who had shown +himself not indisposed--for a substantial sum, paid in advance--to +keep watch over house and grounds, was installed in an outbuilding, and +next day at noon, after personally aiding Sarah, who was all a-tremble +at the prospect of the bush journey, to pack her own and the children's +clothes, Mahony turned the key in the door of the darkened house. But a +couple of weeks ago it had been a proud and happy home. Now it had no +more virtue left in it than a crab's empty shell. + +He had fumed on first learning of Jerry's superfluous presence; but +before they had gone far he saw that he would have fared ill indeed, had +Jerry not been there. Sarah, too agitated that morning to touch a bite +of food, was seized, not an hour out, with sickness and fainting. There +she sat, her eyes closed, her salts to her nose or feebly sipping +brandy, unable to lift a finger to help with the children. The younger +of the two slept most of the way hotly and heavily on Mahony's knee; but +the boy, a regular pest, was never for a moment still. In vain did his +youthful uncle pinch his leg each time he wriggled to the floor. It was +not till a fierce-looking digger opposite took out a jack-knife and +threatened to saw off both his feet if he stirred again, to cut out his +tongue if he put another question that, scarlet with fear, little Johnny +was tamed. Altogether it was a nightmare of a journey, and Mahony +groaned with relief when, lamps having for some time twinkled past, the +coach drew up, and Hempel and Long Jim stepped forward with their +lanterns. Sarah could hardly stand. The children, wrathful at being +wakened from their sleep, kicked and screamed. + + + + +Chapter VI + +For the first time in her young married life, Polly felt vexed with her +husband. + +"Oh, he shouldn't have done that. . . no. really he shouldn't!" she +murmured; and the hand with the letter in it drooped to her lap. + +She had been doing a little surreptitious baking in Richard's absence, +and without a doubt was hot and tired. The tears rose to her eyes. +Deserting her pastry-board she retreated behind the woodstack and sat +down on the chopping-block; and then, for some minutes, the sky was +blotted out. She felt quite unequal, in her present condition, to facing +Sarah, who was so sensitive, so easily shocked; and she was deeply +averse from her fine-lady sister discovering the straitness of Richard's +means and home. + +But it was hard for Polly to secure a moment's privacy. + +"An' so this is w'ere you're 'idin', is it?" said Long Jim snappishly-- +he had been opening a keg of treacle and held a sticky plug in his hand. +"An' me runnin' my pore ol' legs off arter you!" And Hempel met her on +her entry with: "No further bad news, I 'ope and trust, ma'am?"--Hempel +always retained his smooth servility of manner. "The shopman PAR +EXCELLENCE, my dear!" Richard was used to say of him. + +Polly reassured her attendants, blew her nose, re-read her letter; and +other feelings came uppermost. She noticed how scribbly the writing was +--Richard had evidently been hard pushed for time. There was an +apologetic tone about it, too, which was unlike him. He was probably +wondering what she would say; he might even be making himself +reproaches. It was unkind of her to add to them. Let her think rather of +the sad state poor John had been found in, and of his two motherless +babes. As for Sarah, it would never have done to leave her out. + +Wiping her eyes Polly untied her cooking-apron and set to reviewing her +resources. Sarah would have to share her bed, Richard to sleep on the +sofa. The children . . . and here she knitted her brows. Then going into +the yard, she called to Tom Ocock, who sat whittling a stick in front of +his father's house; and Tom went down to Main Street for her, and bought +a mattress which he carried home on his shoulder. This she spread on the +bedroom floor, Mrs. Hemmerde having already given both rooms a sound +scouring, just in case a flea or a spider should be lying perdu. After +which Polly fell to baking again in good earnest; for the travellers +would be famished by the time they arrived. + +Towards ten o'clock Tom, who was on the look-out, shouted that the coach +was in, and Polly, her table spread, a good fire going, stepped to the +door, outwardly very brave, inwardly all a-flutter. Directly, however, +she got sight of the forlorn party that toiled up the slope: Sarah +clinging to Hempel's arm, Mahony bearing one heavy child, and--could +she believe her eyes?--Jerry staggering under the other: her +bashfulness was gone. She ran forward to prop poor Sarah on her free +side, to guide her feet to the door; and it is doubtful whether little +Polly had ever spent a more satisfying hour than that which followed. + +Her husband, watching her in silent amaze, believed she thoroughly +enjoyed the fuss and commotion. + +There was Sarah, too sick to see anything but the bed, to undress, to +make fomentations for, to coax to mouthfuls of tea and toast. There was +Jerry to feed and send off, with the warmest of hugs, to share Tom +Ocock's palliasse. There were the children . . . well, Polly's first +plan had been to put them straight to bed. But when she came to peel off +their little trousers she changed her mind. + +"I think, Mrs. Hemmerde, if you'll get me a tub of hot water, we'll just +pop them into it; they'll sleep so much better," she said . . . not +quite truthfully. Her private reflection was: "I don't think Sarah can +once have washed them properly, all that time." + +The little girl let herself be bathed in her sleep; but young John stood +and bawled, digging fat fists into slits of eyes, while Polly scrubbed +at his massy knees, the dimpled ups and downs of which looked as if they +had been worked in by hand. She had never seen her brother's children +before and was as heartily lost in admiration of their plump, well-formed +bodies, as her helper of the costliness of their outfit. + +"Real Injun muslin, as I'm alive!" ejaculated the woman, on fishing out +their night-clothes. "An' wid the sassiest lace for trimmin'!--Och, the +poor little motherless angels!--Stan' quiet, you young divil you, an' +lemme button you up!" + +Clean as lily-bells, the pair were laid on the mattress-bed. + +"At least they can't fall out," said Polly, surveying her work with a +sigh of content. + +Every one else having retired, she sat with Richard before the fire, +waiting for his bath-water to reach the boil. He was anxious to know +just how she had fared in his absence, she to hear the full story of his +mission. He confessed to her that his offer to load himself up with the +whole party had been made in a momentary burst of feeling. Afterwards he +had repented his impulsiveness. + +"On your account, love. Though when I see how well you've managed--you +dear, clever little woman!" + +And Polly consoled him, being now come honestly to the stage of: "But, +Richard, what else could you do?" + +"What, indeed! I knew Emma had no relatives in Melbourne, and who John's +intimates might be I had no more idea than the man in the moon." + +"John hasn't any friends. He never had." + +"As for leaving the children in Sarah's charge, if you'll allow me to +say so, my dear, I consider your sister Sarah the biggest goose of a +female it has ever been my lot to run across." + +"Ah, but you don't really know Sarah yet," said Polly, and smiled a +little, through the tears that had ripen to her eyes at the tale of +John's despair. + +What Mahony did not mention to her was the necessity he had been under +of borrowing money; though Polly was aware he had left home with but a +modest sum in his purse. He wished to spare her feelings. Polly had a +curious delicacy--he might almost call it a manly delicacy--with +regard to money; and the fact that John had not offered to put hand to +pocket; let alone liberally flung a blank cheque at his head, would, +Mahony knew, touch his wife on a tender spot. Nor did Polly herself ask +questions. Richard made no allusion to John having volunteered to bear +expenses, so the latter had evidently not done so. What a pity! Richard +was so particular himself, in matters of this kind, that he might write +her brother down close and stingy. Of course John's distressed state of +mind partly served to excuse him. But she could not imagine the calamity +that would cause Richard to forget his obligations. + +She slid her hand into her husband's and they sat for a while in +silence. Then, half to herself, and out of a very different train of +thought she said: "Just fancy them never crying once for their mother." + + +* * * * * + + +"Talking of friends," said Sarah, and fastidiously cleared her throat. +"Talking of friends, I wonder now what has become of one of those young +gentlemen I met at your wedding. He was . . . let me see . . . why, I +declare if I haven't forgotten his name!" + +"Oh, I know who you mean--besides there was only one, Sarah," Mahony +heard his wife reply, and therewith fall into her sister's trap. "You +mean Purdy--Purdy Smith--who was Richard's best man." + +"Smith?" echoed Sarah. "La, Polly! Why don't he make it Smythe?" + +It was a warm evening some three weeks later. The store was closed to +customers; but Mahony had ensconced himself in a corner of it with a +book: since the invasion, this was the one place in which he could make +sure of finding quiet. The sisters sat on the log-bench before the +house; and, without seeing them, Mahony knew to a nicety how they were +employed. Polly darned stockings, for John's children; Sarah was +tatting, with her little finger stuck out at right angles to the rest. +Mahony could hardly think of this finger without irritation: it seemed +to sum up Sarah's whole outlook on life. + +Meanwhile Polly's fresh voice went on, relating Purdy's fortunes. "He +took part, you know, in the dreadful affair on the Eureka last +Christmas, when so many poor men were killed. We can speak of it, now +they've all been pardoned; but then we had to be very careful. Well, he +was shot in the ankle, and will always be lame from it." + +"What!--go hobbling on one leg for the remainder of his days? Oh, my +dear!" said Sarah, and laughed. + +"Yes, because the wound wasn't properly attended to--he had to hide +about in the bush, for ever so long. Later on he went to the Beamishes, +to be nursed. But by that time his poor leg was in a very bad state. You +know he is engaged--or very nearly so--to Tilly Beamish." + +"What?" said Sarah once more. "That handsome young fellow engaged to one +of those vulgar creatures?" + +"Oh, Sarah . . . not really vulgar. It isn't their fault they didn't +have a better education. They lived right up-country, where there were +no schools. Tilly never saw a town till she was sixteen; but she can sit +any horse.--Yes, we hope very much Purdy will soon settle down and marry +her--though he left the Hotel again without proposing." And Polly +sighed. + +"There he shows his good taste, my dear." + +"Oh, I'm sure he's fond of Tilly. It's only that his life is so +unsettled. He's been a barman at Euroa since then; and the last we heard +of him, he was shearing somewhere on the Goulburn. He doesn't seem able +to stick to anything." + +"And a rolling stone gathers no moss!" gave back Sarah sententiously-- +and in fancy Mahony saw the cut-and-dried nod with which she accompanied +the words. + +Here Hempel passed through the store, clad in his Sunday best, his hair +plastered flat with bear's-grease. + +"Going out for a stroll?" asked his master. + +"That was my h'intention, sir. I don't think you'll find I've left any +of my dooties undone." + +"Oh, go, by all means!" said Mahony curtly, nettled at having his +harmless query misconstrued. It pointed a suspicion he had had, of late, +that a change was coming over Hempel. The model employee was a shade +less prompt than heretofore to fly at his word, and once or twice seemed +actually to be studying his own convenience. Without knowing what the +matter was, Mahony felt it politic not to be over-exacting--even mildly +to conciliate his assistant. It would put him in an awkward fix, now +that he was on the verge of winding up affairs, should Hempel take it in +his head to leave him in the lurch. + +The lean figure moved on and blocked the doorway. Now there was a sudden +babble of cheepy voices, and simultaneously Sarah cried: "Where have you +been, my little cherubs? Come to your aunt, and let her kiss you!" + +But the children, who had frankly no great liking for Aunt Sarah, would, +Mahony knew, turn a deaf ear to this display of opportunism and make a +rush for his wife. Laying down his book he ran out. "Polly . . . +cautious!" + +"It's all right, Richard, I'm being careful." Polly had let her mending +fall, and with each hand held a flaxen-haired child at arm's length. +"Johnny, dirty boy! what HAVE you been up to?" + +"He played he was a digger and sat down in a pool--I couldn't get him +to budge," answered Jerry, and drew his sleeve over his perspiring +forehead. + +"Oh fy, for shame!" + +"Don' care!" said John, unabashed. + +"Don' tare!" echoed his roly-poly sister, who existed but as his shadow. + +"Don't-care was made to care, don't-care was hung!" quoted Aunt Sarah in +her severest copybook tones. + +Turning his head in his aunt's direction young John thrust forth a +bright pink tongue. Little Emma was not behindhand. + +Polly jumped up, dropping her work to the ground. "Johnny, I shall +punish you if ever I see you do that again. Now, Ellen shall put you to +bed instead of Auntie."--Ellen was Mrs. Hemmerde's eldest, and Polly's +first regular maidservant. + +"Don' care," repeated Johnny. "Ellen plays pillers." + +"Edn pays pidders," said the echo. + +Seizing two hot, pudgy hands Polly dragged the pair indoors--though +they held back mainly on principle. They were not affectionate children; +they were too strong of will and set of purpose for that; but if they +had a fondness for anyone it was for their Aunt Polly: she was ruler +over a drawerful of sugar-sticks, and though she scolded she never +slapped. + +While this was going on Hempel stood, the picture of indecision, and +eased now one foot, now the other, as if his boots pinched him. + +At length he blurted out: "I was wondering, ma'am--ahem! Miss Turnham-- +if, since it is an agreeable h'evening, you would care to take a walk to +that 'ill I told you of?" + +"Me take a walk? La, no! Whatever put such an idea as that into your +head?" cried Sarah; and tatted and tatted, keeping time with a pretty +little foot. + +"I thought per'aps . . ." said Hempel meekly. + +"I didn't make your thoughts, Mr. Hempel," retorted Sarah, laying stress +on the aspirate. + +"Oh no, ma'am. I 'ope I didn't presume to suggest such a thing"; and +with a hangdog air Hempel prepared to slink away. + +"Well, well!" said Sarah double quick; and ceasing to jerk her +crochet-needle in and out, she nimbly rolled up her ball of thread. "Since +you're so insistent . . . and since, mind you, there's no society worth +calling such, on these diggings. . . ." The truth was, Sarah saw that +she was about to be left alone with Mahony--Jerry had sauntered off to +meet Ned--and this TETE-A-TETE was by no means to her mind. She still +bore her brother-in-law a grudge for his high-handed treatment of her at +the time of John's bereavement. "As if I had been one of the domestics, +my dear--a paid domestic! Ordered me off to the butcher's in language +that fairly shocked me." + +Mahony turned his back and strolled down to the river. He did not know +which was more painful to witness: Hempel's unmanly cringing, or the air +of fatuous satisfaction that succeeded it. When he returned, the pair +was just setting out; he watched Sarah, on Hempel's arm, picking short +steps in dainty latchet-shoes. + +As soon as they were well away he called to Polly. + +"The coast's clear. Come for a stroll." + +Polly emerged, tying her bonnet-strings. "Why, where's Sarah? Oh . . . I +see. Oh, Richard, I hope she didn't put on that--" + +"She did, my dear!" said Mahony grimly, and tucked his wife's hand under +his arm. + +"Oh, how I wish she wouldn't!" said Polly in a tone of concern. "She +does get so stared at--especially of an evening, when there are so many +rude men about. But I really don't think she minds. For she HAS a bonnet +in her box all the time." Miss Sarah was giving Ballarat food for talk, +by appearing on her promenades in a hat: a large, flat, mushroom hat. + +"I trust my little woman will never put such a ridiculous object on her +head!" + +"No, never . . . at least, not unless they become quite the fashion," +answered Polly. "And I don't think they will. They look too odd." + +"Another thing, love," continued Mahony, on whom a sudden light had +dawned as he stood listening to Sarah's trumpery. "I fear your sister is +trifling with the feelings of our worthy Hempel." + +Polly, who had kept her own counsel on this matter, went crimson. "Oh, +do you really think so, Richard?" she asked evasively. "I hope not. For +of course nothing could come of it. Sarah has refused the most eligible +offers." + +"Ah, but there are none here to refuse. And if you don't mind my saying +so, Poll, anything in trousers seems fish to her net!" + +On one of their pacings they found Mr. Ocock come out to smoke an +evening pipe. The old man had just returned from a flying visit to +Melbourne. He looked glum and careworn, but livened up at the sight of +Polly, and cracked one of the mouldy jokes he believed beneficial to a +young woman in her condition. Still, the leading-note in his mood was +melancholy; and this, although his dearest wish was on the point of +being fulfilled. + +"Yes, I've got the very crib for 'Enry at last, doc., Billy de la Poer's +liv'ry-stable, top o' Lydiard Street. We sol' poor Billy up yesterday. +The third smash in two days that makes. Lord! I dunno where it'll end." + +"Things are going a bit quick over there. There's been too much +building." + +"They're at me to build, too--'Enry is. But I says no. This place is +good enough for me. If 'e's goin' to be ashamed of 'ow 'is father lives, +'e'd better stop away. I'm an ol' man now, an' a poor one. What should I +want with a fine noo 'ouse? An' 'oo should I build it for, even if I 'ad +the tin? For them two good-for-nothin's in there? Not if I know it!" + +"Mr. Ocock, you wouldn't believe how kind and clever Tom's been at +helping with the children," said Polly warmly. + +"Yes, an' at bottle-washin' and sweepin' and cookin' a pasty. But a +female 'ud do it just as well," returned Tom's father with a snort of +contempt. + +"Poor old chap!" said Mahony, as they passed out of earshot. "So even +the great Henry's arrival is not to be without its drop of gall." + +"Surely he'll never be ashamed of his father?" + +"Who knows! But it's plain he suspects the old boy has made his pile and +intends him to fork out," said Mahony carelessly; and, with this, +dismissed the subject. Now that his own days in the colony were +numbered, he no longer felt constrained to pump up a spurious interest +in local affairs. He consigned them wholesale to that limbo in which, +for him, they had always belonged. + +The two brothers came striding over the slope. Ned, clad in blue serge +shirt and corduroys, laid an affectionate arm round Polly's shoulder, +and tossed his hat into the air on hearing that the "Salamander," as he +called Sarah, was not at home. + +"For I've tons to tell you, Poll old girl. And when milady sits there +turning up her nose at everything a chap says, somehow the spunk goes +out of one." + +Polly had baked a large cake for her darling, and served out generous +slices. Then, drawing up a chair she sat down beside him, to drink in +his news. + +From his place at the farther end of the table Mahony studied the trio-- +these three young faces which were so much alike that they might have +been different readings of one and the same face. Polly, by reason of +her woman's lot, looked considerably the oldest. Still, the lamplight +wiped out some of the shadows, and she was never more girlishly +vivacious than with Ned, entering as she did with zest into his plans +and ideas--more sister now than wife. And Ned showed at his best with +Polly: he laid himself out to divert her; forgot to brag or to swear; +and so natural did it seem for brother to open his heart to sister that +even his egoistic chatter passed muster. As for young Jerry, who in a +couple of days was to begin work in the same claim as Ned, he sat +round-eyed, his thoughts writ large on his forehead. Mahony translated +them thus: how in the world I could ever have sat prim and proper on the +school-bench, when all this--change, adventure, romance--was awaiting +me? Jerry was only, Mahony knew, to push a wheelbarrow from hole to +water and back again for many a week to come; but for him it would +certainly be a golden barrow, and laden with gold, so greatly had Ned's +tales fired his imagination. + +The onlooker felt odd man out, debarred as he was by his profounder +experience from sharing in the young people's light-legged dreams. He +took up his book. But his reading was cut into by Ned's sprightly +account of the Magpie rush; by his description of an engine at work on +the Eureka, and of the wooden airpipes that were being used to ventilate +deep-sinkings. There was nothing Ned did not know, and could not make +entertaining. One was forced, almost against one's will, to listen to +him; and on this particular evening, when he was neither sponging, nor +acting the Big Gun, Mahony toned down his first sweeping judgment of his +young relative. Ned was all talk; and what impressed one so unfavourably +--his grumbling, his extravagant boastfulness--was the mere thistledown +of the moment, puffed off into space. It mattered little that he harped +continually on "chucking up" his job. Two years had passed since he came +to Ballarat, and he was still working for hire in somebody else's hole. +He still groaned over the hardships of the life, and still toiled on-- +and all the rest was just the froth and braggadocio of aimless youth. + + + + +Chapter VII + +Not twenty-four hours later, Sarah had an accident to her MACHOIRE and +returned post-haste to Melbourne. + +"A most opportune breakage!" said Mahony, and laughed. + +That day at the dinner-table he had given his sister-in-law a piece of +his mind. Sarah had always resented the name bestowed on her by her +parents, and was at present engaged in altering it, in giving it, so to +speak, a foreign tang: henceforth she was to be not Sarah, but Sara +(spoken Sahra). As often as Polly's tongue tripped over the unfamiliar +syllable, Sara gently but firmly put her right; and Polly corrected +herself, even begged pardon for her stupidity, till Mahony could bear it +no longer. Throwing politeness to the winds, he twitted Sara with her +finical affectations, her old-maidish ways, the morning sloth that +expected Polly, in her delicate state of health, to carry a breakfast-tray +to the bedside: cast up at her, in short, all that had made him +champ and fret in silence. Sara might, after a fitting period of the +huff, have overlooked the rest; but the "old-maidish" she could not +forgive. And directly dinner was over, the mishap to her mouthpiece was +made known. + +Too much in awe of Mahony to stand up to him--for when he was angry, he +was very angry--Sara retaliated by abusing him to Polly as she packed +her trunk. + +"Manners, indeed! To turn and insult a visitor at his own table! And who +and what is he, I should like to know, to speak to me so? Nothing but a +common storekeeper. My dear, you have my deepest sympathy. It's a +DREADFUL life for you. Of course you keep everything as nice as +possible, under the circumstances. But the surroundings, Polly! . . . +and the store . . . and the want of society. I couldn't put up with it, +not for a week!" + +Polly, sitting on the side of the tester-bed and feeling very cast down +at Sara's unfriendly departure, shed a few tears at this. For part of +what her sister said was true: it had been wrong of Richard to be rude +to Sara while the latter was a guest in his house. But she defended him +warmly. "I couldn't be happier than I am; Richard's the best husband in +the world. As for his being common, Sara, you know he comes of a much +better family than we do." + +"My dear, common is as common does; and a vulgar calling ends by +vulgarising those who have the misfortune to pursue it. But there's +another reason, Polly, why it is better for me to leave you. There are +certain circumstances, my dear, in which, to put it mildly, it is +AWKWARD for two people of OPPOSITE sexes to go on living under the same +roof." + +"Sarah!--I mean Sara--do you really mean to say Hempel has made you a +proposal?" cried Polly, wide-eyed in her tears. + +"I won't say, my dear, that he has so far forgotten himself as to +actually offer marriage. But he has let me see only too plainly what his +feelings are. Of course, I've kept him in his place--the preposterous +creature! But all the same it's not COMME IL FAUT any longer for me to +be here." + +"Did she say where she was going, or what she intended to do?" Mahony +inquired of his wife that night as she bound the strings of her +nightcap. + +No, she hadn't, Polly admitted, rather out of countenance. But then Sara +was like that--very close about her own affairs. "I think she's perhaps +gone back to her last situation. She had several letters while she was +here, in that lady's hand. People are always glad to get her back. Not +many finishing governesses can teach all she can"--and Polly checked +off Sara's attainments on the fingers of both hands. "She won't go +anywhere under two hundred a year." + +"A most accomplished person, your sister!" said Mahony sleepily. "Still, +it's very pleasant to be by ourselves again--eh, wife?" + +An even more blessed peace shortly descended on the house; for the time +was now come to get rid of the children as well. Since nothing had been +heard of John, they were to be boarded out over Polly's illness. Through +the butcher's lady, arrangements were made with a trooper's wife, who +lived outside the racket and dust of the township, and had a whole posse +of little ones of her own.--"Bless you! half-a-dozen more wouldn't make +any difference to me. There's the paddock for 'em to run wild in." This +was the best that could be done for the children. Polly packed their +little kit, dealt out a parting bribe of barley-sugar, and saw them +hoisted into the dray that would pass the door of their destination. + +Once more husband and wife sat alone together, as in the days before +John's domestic catastrophe. And now Mahony said tentatively: "Don't you +think, love, we could manage to get on without that old Beamish woman? +I'll guarantee to nurse you as well as any female alive." + +The question did not come as a surprise to Polly; she had already put it +to herself. After the affair with Sara she awaited her new visitor in +fear and trembling. Sara had at least stood in awe of Richard and held +her tongue before him; Mrs. Beamish prided herself on being afraid of +nobody, and on always speaking her mind. And yet, even while agreeing +that it would be well to put "mother" off, Polly drooped her wings. At a +time like this a woman was a woman. It seemed as if even the best of +husbands did not quite understand. + +"Just give her the hint we don't want her," said Mahony airily. + +But "mother" was not the person to take a hint, no matter how broad. It +was necessary to be blunt to the point of rudeness; and Polly spent a +difficult hour over the composition of her letter. She might have saved +her pains. Mrs. Beamish replied that she knew her darling little Polly's +unwillingness to give trouble; but it was not likely she would now go +back on her word: she had been packed and ready to start for the past +week. Polly handed the letter to her husband, and did not say what she +thought she read out of it, namely that "mother," who so seldom could be +spared from home, was looking forward with pleasure to her trip to +Ballarat. + +"I suppose it's a case of making the best of a bad job," sighed Mahony; +and having one day drawn Mrs. Beamish, at melting point, from the inside +of a crowded coach, he loaded Long Jim with her bags and bundles. + +His aversion was not lightened by his subsequently coming on his wife in +the act of unpacking a hamper, which contained half a ham, a stone jar +of butter, some home-made loaves of bread, a bag of vegetables and a +plum pudding. "Good God! does the woman think we can't give her enough +to eat?" he asked testily. He had all the poor Irishman's distrust of a +gift. + +"She means it kindly, dear. She probably thought things were still +scarce here; and she knew I wouldn't be able to do much cooking," +pleaded Polly. And going out to the kitchen she untied the last parcel, +in which was a big round cheese, by stealth. + +She had pulled Mrs. Beamish over the threshold, had got her into the +bedroom and shut the door, before any of the "ohs" and "ahs" she saw +painted on the broad, rubicund face could be transformed into words. And +hugs and kisses over, she bravely seized the bull by the horns and +begged her guest not to criticise house or furnishings in front of +Richard. + +It took Mrs. Beamish a minute or two to grasp her meaning. Then, she +said heartily: "There, there, my duck, don't you worry! I'll be as mum +as mum." And in a whisper: "So, 'e's got a temper, Polly, 'as 'e? But +this I will say: if I'd known this was all 'e 'ad to h'offer you, I'd +'a' said, stop w'ere you are, my lamb, in a comfortable, 'appy 'ome." + +"Oh, I AM happy, mother dear, indeed I am!" cried Polly. "I've never +regretted being married--never once!" + +"There, there, now!" + +"And it's only . . . I mean . . . this is the best we can afford in the +meantime, and if I am satisfied . . ." floundered Polly, dismayed to +hear her words construed into blame of her husband. "It's only that it +upsets Richard if people speak slightingly of our house, and that upsets +me--and I musn't be worried just now, you know," she added with a +somewhat shaky smile. + +"Not a word will I say, ducky, make yer pore little mind easy about +that. Though such a poky little 'en-coop of a place I never was in!"-- +and, while tying her cap-strings, Mrs. Beamish swept the little bedroom +and its sloping roof with a withering glance. "I was 'orrified, girls, +simply 'ORRIFIED!" she related the incident to her daughters. "An' I up +an' told 'er so--just like me, you know. Not room enough to swing a cat +in, and 'im sittin' at the 'ead of the table as 'igh an' mighty as a +dook! You can thank yer stars, you two, 'e didn't take one o' you +instead o' Polly." But this was chiefly by way of a consolation-prize +for Tilly and Jinny. + +"An' now, my dear, tell me EVERYTHING." With these words, Mrs. Beamish +spread her skirts and settled down to a cosy chat on the subject of +Polly's hopes. + +But like the majority of her sex she was an adept at dividing her +attention; and while making delicate inquiries of the young wife, she +was also travelling her shrewd eye round the little bedchamber, spying +out and appraising: not one of poor Polly's makeshifts escaped her. The +result of her inspection was to cause her to feel justly indignant with +Mahony. The idea! Him to rob them of Polly just to dump her down in a +place like this! She would never be able to resist telling him what she +thought of him. + +Here, however, she reckoned without Polly. Polly was sharp enough to +doubt "mother's" ability to hold her tongue; and saw to it that Richard +and she were not left alone together. And of an evening when talk +languished, she would beg her husband to read to them from the BALLARAT +STAR, until, as often as not, Mrs. Beamish fell asleep. Frequently, too, +she persuaded him to go out and take a hand in a newlyformed whist club, +or discuss politics with a neighbour. + +Mahony went willingly enough; his home was less home than ever since the +big woman's intrusion. Even his food lost its savour. Mrs. Beamish had +taken over the cooking, and she went about it with an air that implied +he had not had a decent bite to eat since his marriage. + +"There! what do you say to that now? That's something LIKE a pudding!" +and a great plum-duff was planked triumphantly down in the middle of the +dinner-table. "Lor, Polly! your bit of a kitchen . . . in this +weather . . . I'm fair dished." And the good woman mopped her streaming +face and could herself eat nothing. + +Mahony much preferred his wife's cooking, which took account of his +tastes--it was done, too, without any fuss--and he persisted in +upholding Polly's skill, in face of Mrs. Beamish's good-natured +disbelief. Polly, on edge, lest he should openly state his preference, +nervously held out her plate. + +"It's so good, mother, I must have a second helping," she declared; and +then, without appetite in the cruel, midday heat, did not know what to +do with the solid slab of pudding. Pompey and Palmerston got into the +way of sitting very close to her chair. + +She confided to Richard that Mrs. Beamish disapproved of his evening +outings. "Many an 'usband takes to goin' out at such a time, my dear, +an' never gets back the 'abit of stoppin' at 'ome. So just you be +careful, ducky!" This was a standing joke between them. Mahony would +wink at Polly when he put his hat on, and wear it rakishly askew. + +However, he quite enjoyed a crack with the postmaster or the +town-surveyor, at this juncture. Colonial politics were more interesting +than usual. The new Constitution had been proclaimed, and a valiant effort +was being made to form a Cabinet; to induce, that was, a sufficient +number of well-to-do men to give up time to the service of their +country. It looked as if the attempt were going to fail, just as on the +goldfields the Local Courts, by which since the Stockade the diggers +governed themselves, were failing, because none could afford to spend +his days sitting in them. + +Yet however high the discussion ran, he kept one ear turned towards his +home. Here, things were at a standstill. Polly's time had come and gone +--but there was no end set to their suspense. It was blazing hot now in +the little log house; walls and roof were black with flies; mosquitoes +made the nights hideous. Even Polly lost patience with herself when, +morning after morning, she got up feeling as well as ever, and knowing +that she had to steer through another difficult day. + +It was not the suspense alone: the strain of keeping the peace was +growing too much for her. + +"Oh, DON'T quarrel with her, Richard, for my sake," she begged her +husband one night. "She means so well. And she can't help being like she +is--she has always been accustomed to order Mr. Beamish about. But I +wish she had never, never come," sobbed poor Polly. And Mahony, in a +sudden flash of enlightenment, put his arms round her, and made humble +promises. Not another word should cross his lips! "Though I'd like +nothing so well as to throw her out, and her bags and bundles after her. +Come, laugh a little, my Polly. Think of the old lady flying down the +slope, with her packages in a shower about her head!" + +Rogers, M.D., looked in whenever he passed. At this stage he was of the +jocular persuasion. "Still an unwelcome visitor, ma'am? No little tidbit +of news for me to-day?" There he sat, twiddling his thumbs, reiterating +his singsong: "Just so!" and looking wise as an owl. Mahony knew the air +--had many a time seen it donned to cloak perplexity--and covert doubts +of Rogers' ability began to assail him. But then he fell mentally foul +of every one he came in touch with, at present: Ned, for the bare-faced +fashion in which he left his cheerfulness on the door-mat; Mrs. Beamish +for the eternal "Pore lamb!" with which she beplastered Polly, and the +antiquated reckoning-table she embarrassed them by consulting. + +However, this state of things could not last for ever, and at dawn, one +hot January day, Polly was taken ill. + +The early hours promised well. But the morning wore on, turned to +midday, then to afternoon, and matters still hung fire. While towards +six o'clock the patient dismayed them by sitting up in bed, saying she +felt much better, and asking for a cup of tea. This drew: "Ah, my pore +lamb, you've got to feel worse yet afore you're better!" from Mrs. +Beamish. + +It ended in Rogers taking up his quarters there, for the night. + +Towards eleven o'clock Mahony and he sat, one on each side of the table, +in the little sitting-room. The heat was insupportable and all three +doors and the window were propped open, in the feeble hope of creating a +draught. The lamp had attracted a swarm of flying things: giant moths +beat their wings against the globe, or fell singed and sizzling down the +chimney; winged-ants alighted with a click upon the table; blowflies and +mosquitoes kept up a dizzy hum. + +From time to time Mahony rose and stole into the bedroom, where Mrs. +Beamish sat fanning the pests off Polly, who was in a feverish doze. +Leaning over his wife he let his finger lie on her wrist; and, back +again in the outer room, he bit nervously at his little-finger nail--an +old trick of his when in a quandary. He had curtly refused a game of +bezique; so Rogers had produced a pack of cards from his own pocket-- +soiled, frayed cards, which had likely done service on many a similar +occasion--and was whiling the time away with solitaire. To sit there +watching his slow manipulation of the cards, his patent intentness on +the game; to listen any longer to the accursed din of the gnats and +flies passed Mahony's powers of endurance. Abruptly shoving back his +chair, he went out into the yard. + +This was some twenty paces across--from the row of old kerosene-tins +that constituted his flower-garden, past shed and woodstack to the +post-and-rail fence. How often he walked it he did not know; but when he +went indoors again, his boots were heavy with mud. For a brief summer +storm had come up earlier in the evening. A dense black pall of cloud had +swept like a heavy curtain over the stars, to the tune of flash and +bang. Now, all was clear and calm again; the white star-dust of the +Milky Way powdered the sky just overhead; and though the heat was still +intense, the air had a fragrant smell of saturated dust and rain-soaked +earth--he could hear streamlets of water trickling down the hillside to +the river below. + +Out there in the dark, several things became plain to him. He saw that +he had not had any real confidence in Rogers from the start; while the +effect of the evening spent at close quarters had been to sink his +opinion to nothing. Rogers belonged to an old school; his method was to +sit by and let nature take its course--perhaps just this slowness to +move had won him a name for extreme care. His old fogyism showed up +unmistakably in a short but heated argument they had had on the subject +of chloroform. He cited such hoary objections to the use of the new +anaesthetic in maternity cases as Mahony had never expected to hear +again: the therapeutic value of pain; the moral danger the patient ran +in yielding up her will ("What right have we to bid a fellow-creature +sacrifice her consciousness?") and the impious folly of interfering with +the action of a creative law. It had only remained for him to quote +Genesis, and the talking serpent! + +Had the case been in his own hands he would have intervened before now. +Rogers, on the contrary, was still satisfied with the shape of affairs-- +or made pretence to be. For, watching lynx-eyed, Mahony fancied each +time the fat man propelled his paunch out of the sickroom it was a shade +less surely: there were nuances, too, in the way he pronounced his +vapid: "As long as our strength is well maintained . . . well +maintained." Mahony doubted Polly's ability to bear much more; and he +made bold to know his own wife's constitution best. Rogers was +shilly-shallying: what if he delayed too long and Polly slipped through +his hands? Lose Polly? Good God! the very thought turned him cold. And +alive to his finger-tips with the superstition of his race, he impetuously +offered up his fondest dream to those invisible powers that sat aloft, +waiting to be appeased. If this was to be the price exacted of him--the +price of his escape from exile--then. . . then . . . + +To come back to the present, however, he was in an awkward position: he +was going to be forced to take Polly's case out of the hands of the man +to whom he had entrusted it. Such a step ran counter to all the stiff +rules of conduct, the punctilios of decorum, laid down by the most +code-ridden profession in the world. + +But a fresh visit to Polly, whose pulse had grown markedly softer, put +an end to his scruples. + +Stalking into the sitting-room he said without preamble: "In my opinion +any further delay will mean a risk to my wife. I request you to operate +immediately." + +Rogers blinked up from his cards, surprise writ across his ruddy +countenance. He pushed his spectacles to his forehead. "Eh? What? Well, +well . . . yes, the time is no doubt coming when we shall have to lend +Mother Nature a hand." + +"Coming? It's come . . . and gone. Are you blind, man?" + +Rogers had faced many an agitated husband in his day. "Now, now, Mr. +Mahony," he said soothingly, and laid his last two cards in line. "You +must allow me to be the judge of that. Besides," he added, as he took +off his glasses to polish them on a red bandanna; "besides, I should +have to ask you to go out and get some one to assist me." + +"I shall assist you," returned Mahony. + +Rogers smiled his broad, fat smile. "Easier said than done, my good sir! +. . . easier said than done." + +Mahony considerately turned his back; and kept it turned. Emptying a +pitcher of water into a basin he began to lather his hands. "I am a +qualified medical man. Of the same university as yourself. I studied +under Simpson." It cost him an effort to get the words out. But, by +speaking, he felt that he did ample penance for the fit of tetchy pride +which, in the first instance, had tied his tongue. + +Rogers was dumbfounded. + +"Well, upon my word!" he ejaculated, letting his hands with glasses and +handkerchief fall to the table. "God bless my soul! why couldn't you say +so before? And why the deuce didn't you yourself attend--" + +"We can go into all that afterwards." + +But Rogers was not one of those who could deal rapidly with the +unexpected: he continued to vent his surprise, and to shoot distrustful +glances at his companion. He was flurried, too, at being driven forward +quicker than he had a mind to go, and said sulkily that Mahony must take +full responsibility for what they were about to do. Mahony hardly heard +him; he was looking at the instruments laid out on the table. His +fingers itched to close round them. + +"I'll prepare my wife," he said briskly. And going into the bedroom he +bent over the pillow. It was damp with the sweat that had dripped from +Polly's head when the pains were on her. + +"'Ere, you girl, get in quick now with your bucket and cloth, and give +that place a good clean-up afore that pore lamb opens 'er eyes again. +I'm cooked--that's what I am!" and sitting heavily down on the +kitchen-chair, Mrs. Beamish wiped her face towards the four points of the +compass. + +Piqued by an unholy curiosity young Ellen willingly obeyed. But a minute +later she was back, having done no more than set her pail down inside +the bedroom door. "Oh, sure, Mrs. Beamish, and I can't do't!" she cried +shrilly. "It's jus' like Andy Soakes's shop . . . when they've bin +quarterin' a sheep." + +"I'll QUARTER you, you lazy trollop, you!" cried Mrs. Beamish, rising to +her aching legs again; and her day-old anxiety found vent in a hearty +burst of temper. "I'll teach you!" pulling, as she spoke, the floorcloth +out of the girl's hand. "Such airs and graces! Why, sooner or later, +milady, you've got to go through it yourself." + +"ME . . .? Catch me!" said Ellen, with enormous emphasis. "D'yer mean to +say that's 'ow . . . 'ow the children always come?" + +"Of course it is, you mincing Nanny-hen!--every blessed child that +walks. And I just 'ope," said Mrs. Beamish, as she marched off herself +with brush and scrubber: "I 'ope, now you know it, you'll 'ave a little +more love and gratitoode for your own mother than ever you 'ad before." + +"Oh lor!" said the girl. "Oh, lor!" And plumping down on the +chopping-block she snatched her apron to her face and began to cry. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +Two months passed before Mahony could help Polly and Mrs. Beamish into +the coach bound for Geelong. + +It had been touch and go with Polly; and for weeks her condition had +kept him anxious. With the inset of the second month, however, she +seemed fairly to turn the corner, and from then on made a steady +recovery, thanks to her youth and an unimpaired vitality. + +He had hurried the little cradle out of sight. But Polly was quick to +miss it, and quite approved of its having been given to a needy +expectant mother near by. Altogether she bore the thwarting of her hopes +bravely. + +"Poor little baby, I should have been very fond of it," was all she +said, when she was well enough to fold and pack away the tiny garments +at which she had stitched with such pleasure. + +It was not to Mahony's mind that she returned with Mrs. Beamish--but +what else could be done? After lying a prisoner through the hot summer, +she was sadly in need of a change. And Mrs. Beamish promised her a diet +of unlimited milk and eggs, as well as the do nothing life that befitted +an invalid. Just before they left, a letter arrived from John demanding +the keys of his house, and proposing that Polly should come to town to +set it in order for him, and help him to engage a housekeeper. A +niggardly--a truly "John-ish"--fashion of giving an invitation, +thought Mahony, and was not for his wife accepting it. But Polly was so +pleased at the prospect of seeing her brother that he ended by agreeing +to her going on to Melbourne as soon as she had thoroughly recuperated. + +Peace between him and Mrs. Beamish was dearly bought up to the last; +they barely avoided a final explosion. At the beginning of her third +month's absence from home the good woman grew very restive, and sighed +aloud for the day on which she would be able to take her departure. + +"I expec' my bein' away like this'll run clean into a fifty-poun' note," +she said one evening. "When it comes to managin' an 'ouse, those two +girls of mine 'aven't a h'ounce o' gumption between them." + +It WAS tactless of her, even Polly felt that; though she could +sympathise with the worry that prompted the words. As for Mahony, had he +had the money to do it, he would have flung the sum named straight at +her head. + +"She must never come again," said Polly to herself, as she bent over the +hair-chain she was making as a gift for John. "It is a pity, but it +seems as if Richard can't get on with those sort of people." + +In his relief at having his house to himself, Mahony accepted even +Polly's absence with composure. To be perpetually in the company of +other people irked him beyond belief. A certain amount of privacy was as +vital to him as sleep. + +Delighting in his new-found solitude, he put off from day to day the +disagreeable job of winding up his affairs and discovering how much--or +how little--ready money there would be to set sail with. Another thing, +some books he had sent home for, a year or more ago, came to hand at +this time, and gave him a fresh pretext for delay. There were eight or +nine volumes to unpack and cut the pages of. He ran from one to another, +sipping, devouring. Finally he cast anchor in a collected edition of his +old chief's writings on obstetrics--slipped in, this, as a gift from +the sender, a college chum--and over it, his feet on the table, his +dead pipe in the corner of his mouth, Mahony sat for the better part of +the night. + +The effect of this master-mind on his was that of a spark on tinder. +Under the flash, he cursed for the hundredth time the folly he had been +guilty of in throwing up medicine. It was a vocation that had fitted him +as coursing fits a hound, or house-wifery a woman. The only excuse he +could find for his apostasy was that he had been caught in an epidemic +of unrest, which had swept through the country, upsetting the balance of +men's reason. He had since wondered if the Great Exhibition of '51 had +not had something to do with it, by unduly whetting people's +imaginations; so that but a single cry of "Gold!" was needed, to loose +the spirit of vagrancy that lurks in every Briton's blood. His case had +perhaps been peculiar in this: no one had come forward to warn or +dissuade. His next relatives--mother and sisters--were, he thought, +glad to know him well away. In their eyes he had lowered himself by +taking up medicine; to them it was still of a piece with barber's pole +and cupping-basin. Before his time no member of the family had entered +any profession but the army. Oh, that infernal Irish pride! . . . and +Irish poverty. It had choke-damped his youth, blighted the prospects of +his sisters. He could remember, as if it were yesterday, the jibes and +fleers called forth by the suit of a wealthy Dublin brewer, who had been +attracted--by sheer force of contrast, no doubt--to the elder of the +two swan-necked, stiff-backed Miss Townshend-Mahonys, with their long, +thin noses, and the ingrained lines that ran from the curled nostrils to +the corners of their supercilious mouths, describing a sneer so deep +that at a distance it was possible to mistake it for a smile. "Beer, my +dear, indeed and there are worse things in the world than beer!" he +heard his mother declare in her biting way. "By all means take him! You +can wash yourself in it if water gets scarce, and I'll place my kitchen +orders with you." Lucinda, who had perhaps sniffed timidly at release, +burnt crimson: thank you! she would rather eat rat-bane.--He supposed +they pinched and scraped along as of old--the question of money was +never broached between him and them. Prior to his marriage he had sent +them what he could; but that little was in itself an admission of +failure. They made no inquiries about his mode of life, preferring it to +remain in shadow; enough for them that he had not amassed a fortune. Had +that come to pass, they might have pardoned the rude method of its +making--in fancy he listened to the witty, cutting, self-derisive +words, in which they would have alluded to his success. + +Lying back in his chair he thought of them thus, without unkindliness, +even with a dash of humour. That was possible, now that knocking about +the world had rubbed off some of his own corners. In his young days, he, +too, had been hot and bitter. What, however, to another might have +formed the chief crux in their conduct--it was by squandering such +money as there was, his own portion among it, on his scamp of an elder +brother, that they had forced him into the calling they despised--this +had not troubled him greatly. For medicine was the profession on which +his choice would anyhow have fallen. And to-night the book that lay +before him had infected him with the old enthusiasm. He re-lived those +days when a skilfully handled case of PLACENTA PREVIA, or a successful +delivery in the fourth position, had meant more to him than the Charge +of the Light Brigade. + +Fresh from this dip into the past, this foretaste of the future, he +turned in good heart to business. An inventory had to be taken; damaged +goods cleared out; a list of bad and less bad debts drawn up: he and +Hempel were hard at work all next day. The result was worse even than he +had expected. His outlay that summer--ever since the day on which he +had set off to the aid of his bereaved relative--had been enormous. +Trade had run dry, and throughout Polly's long illness he had dipped +blindly into his savings. He could never have said no to Mrs. Beamish +when she came to him for money--rather would he have pawned the coat +off his back. And she, good woman, was unused to cheeseparing. His men's +wages paid, berths booked, the numerous expenses bound up with a +departure defrayed, he would have but a scanty sum in hand with which to +start on the other side. + +For himself he was not afraid; but he shrank from the thought of Polly +undergoing privations. So far, they had enjoyed a kind of frugal +comfort. But should he meet with obstacles at the outset: if patients +were laggardly and the practice slow to move, or if he himself fell ill, +they might have a spell of real poverty to face. And it was under the +goad of this fear that he hit on a new scheme. Why not leave Polly +behind for a time, until he had succeeded in making a home for her?-- +why not leave her under the wing of brother John? John stood urgently in +need of a head for his establishment, and who so well suited for the +post as Polly? Surely, if it were put before him, John must jump at the +offer! Parting from Polly, and were it only for a little while, would be +painful; but, did he go alone, he would be free to do his utmost--and +with an easy mind, knowing that she lacked none of the creature-comforts. +Yes, the more he considered the plan, the better he liked it. +The one flaw in his satisfaction was the thought that if their child had +lived, no such smooth and simple arrangement would have been possible. +He could not have foisted a family on Turnham. + +Now he waited with impatience for Polly to return--his reasonable +little Polly! But he did not hurry her. Polly was enjoying her holiday. +Having passed to Melbourne from Geelong she wrote: + +JOHN IS SO VERY KIND. HE DOESN'T OF COURSE GO OUT YET HIMSELF, BUT I WAS +PRESENT WITH SOME FRIENDS OF HIS AT A VERY ELEGANT SOIREE. JOHN GAVE ME +A HEADDRESS COMPOSED OF BLACK PEARLS AND FROSTED LEAVES. HE MEANS TO GO +IN FOR POLITIES AS SOON AS HIS YEAR OF MOURNING IS UP. + +Mahony replied: + +ENJOY YOURSELF, MY HEART, AND SET ALL THE SIGHTS YOU CAN. + +While into more than one of his letters he slipped a banknote. + +FOR YOU KNOW I LIKE YOU TO PAY YOUR OWN WAY AS FAR AS POSSIBLE. + +And at length the day came when he could lift his wife out of the coach. +She emerged powdered brown with dust and very tired, but radiantly +happy: it was a great event in little Polly's life, this homecoming, and +coming, too, strong and well. The house was a lively place that +afternoon: Polly had so much to tell that she sat holding her bonnet for +over an hour, quite unable to get as far as the bedroom; and even Long +Jim's mouth went up at the corners instead of down; for Polly had +contrived to bring back a little gift for every one. And in presenting +these, she found out more of what people were thinking and feeling than +her husband had done in all the eight weeks of her absence. + +Mahony was loath to damp her pleasure straightway; he bided his time. He +could not know that Polly also had been laying plans, and that she +watched anxiously for the right moment to unfold them. + +The morning after her return, she got a lift in the baker's cart and +drove out to inspect John's children. What she saw and heard on this +visit was disquieting. The children had run wild, were grown dirty, sly, +untruthful. Especially the boy.--"A young Satan, and that's a fact, +Mrs. Mahony! What he needs is a man's hand over him, and a good hidin' +six days outer seven." + +It was not alone little Johnny's misconduct, however, that made Polly +break silence. An incident occurred that touched her still more nearly. + +Husband and wife sat snug and quiet as in the early days of their +marriage. Autumn had come round and a fire burnt in the stove, before +which Pompey snorted in his dreams. But, for all the cosy tranquillity, +Polly was not happy; and time and again she moistened and bit at the tip +of her thread, before pointing it through her needle. For the book open +before Richard, in which he was making notes as he read, was--the +Bible. Bending over him to drop a kiss on the top of his head, Polly had +been staggered by what she saw. Opposite the third verse of the first +chapter of Genesis: "And God said, Let there be light: and there was +light," he had written: "Three days before the sun!" Her heart seemed to +shrivel, to grow small in her breast, at the thought of her husband +being guilty of such impiety. Ceasing her pretence at sewing, she walked +out of the house into the yard. Standing there under the stars she said +aloud, as if some one, THE One, could hear her: "He doesn't mean to do +wrong. . . . I KNOW he doesn't!" But when she re-entered the room he was +still at it. His beautiful writing, reduced to its tiniest, wound round +the narrow margins. + +Deeply red, Polly took her courage in both hands, and struck a blow for +the soul whose salvation was more to her than her own. "Richard, do you +think that . . . is . . . is right?" she asked in a low voice. + +Mahony raised his head. "Eh?--what, Pollykin?" + +"I mean, do you think you ought . . . that it is right to do what you +are doing?" + +The smile, half-tender, half-quizzical that she loved, broke over her +husband's face. He held out his hand. "Is my little wife troubled?" + +"Richard, I only mean. . ." + +"Polly, my dear, don't worry your little head over what you don't +understand. And have confidence in me. You know I wouldn't do anything I +believed to be wrong?" + +"Yes, indeed. And you are really far more religious than I am." + +"One can be religious and yet not shut one's eyes to the truth. It's +Saint Paul, you know, who says: we can do nothing against the Truth but +for the Truth. And you may depend on it, Polly, the All-Wise would never +have given us the brains He has, if He had not intended us to use them. +Now I have long felt sure that the Bible is not wholly what it claims to +be--direct inspiration." + +"Oh, Richard!" said Polly, and threw an anxious glance over her +shoulder. "If anyone should hear you!" + +"We can't afford to let our lives be governed by what other people +think, Polly. Nor will I give any man the right to decide for me what my +share of the Truth shall be." + +On seeing the Bible closed Polly breathed again, at the same time +promising herself to take the traitorous volume into safe-keeping, that +no third person's eye should rest on it. Perhaps, too, if it were put +away Richard would forget to go on writing in it. He had probably begun +in the first place only because he had nothing else to do. In the store +he sat and smoked and twirled his thumbs--not half a dozen customers +came in, in the course of the day. If he were once properly occupied +again, with work that he liked, he would not be tempted to put his gifts +to such a profane use. Thus she primed herself for speaking. For now was +the time. Richard was declaring that trade had gone to the dogs, his +takings dropped to a quarter of what they had formerly been. This headed +just where she wished. But Polly would not have been Polly, had she not +glanced aside for a moment, to cheer and console. + +"It's the same everywhere, Richard. Everybody's complaining. And that +reminds me, I forgot to tell you about the Beamishes. They're in great +trouble. You see, a bog has formed in front of the Hotel, and the +traffic goes round another way, so they've lost most of their custom. +Mr. Beamish never opens his mouth at all now, and mother is fearfully +worried. That's what was the matter when she was here--only she was too +kind to say so." + +"Hard lines!" + +"Indeed it is. But about us; I'm not surprised to hear trade is dull. +Since I was over in the western township last, no less than six new +General Stores have gone up--I scarcely knew the place. They've all got +big plate-glass windows; and were crowded with people." + +"Yes, there's a regular exodus up west. But that doesn't alter the fact, +wife, that I've made a very poor job of storekeeping. I shall leave here +with hardly a penny to my name." + +"Yes, but then, Richard," said Polly, and bent over her strip of +needlework, "you were never cut out to be a storekeeper, were you?" + +"I was not. And I verily believe, if it hadn't been for that old +sober-sides of a Hempel, I should have come a cropper long ago." + +"Yes, and Hempel," said Polly softly; "Hempel's been wanting to leave +for ever so long." + +"The dickens he has!" cried Mahony in astonishment. "And me humming and +hawing about giving him notice! What's the matter with him? What's he +had to complain of?" + +"Oh, nothing like that. He wants to enter the ministry. A helper's +needed at the Baptist Chapel, and he means to apply for the post. You +see, he's saved a good deal, and thinks he can study to be a minister at +the same time." + +"Study for his grave, the fool! So that's it, is it? Well, well! it +saves trouble in the end. I don't need to bother my head now over what's +to become of him . . . him or anyone else. My chief desire is to say +good-bye to this hole for ever. There's no sense, Polly, in my dawdling +on. Indeed, I haven't the money to do it. So I've arranged, my dear, +with our friend Ocock to come in and sell us off, as soon as you can get +our personal belongings put together." + +Here Polly raised her head as if to interrupt; but Mahony, full of what +he had to say, ignored the movement, and went on speaking. He did not +wish to cause his wife uneasiness, by dwelling on his difficulties; but +some explanation was necessary to pave the way for his proposal that she +should remain behind, when he left the colony. He spent all his +eloquence in making this sound natural and attractive. But it was hard, +when Polly's big, astonished eyes hung on his face. "Do you think, for +my sake, you could be brave enough?" he wound up, rather unsurely. "It +wouldn't be for long, love, I'm certain of that. Just let me set foot in +England once more!" + +"Why . . . why, yes, dear Richard, I . . . I think I could, if you +really wished it," said Polly in a small voice. She tried to seem +reasonable; though black night descended on her at the thought of +parting, and though her woman's eyes saw a hundred objections to the +plan, which his had overlooked. (For one thing, John had just installed +Sara as housekeeper, and Sara would take it very unkindly to be shown +the door.) "I THINK I could," she repeated. "But before you go on, dear, +I should like to ask YOU something." + +She laid down her needlework; her heart was going pit-a-pat. "Richard, +did you ever.. . I mean have you never thought of. .. of taking up your +profession again--I mean here--starting practice here?--No, wait a +minute! Let me finish. I . . . I . . . oh, Richard!" Unable to find +words, Polly locked her fingers under the tablecloth and hoped she was +not going to be so silly as to cry. Getting up, she knelt down before +her husband, laying her hands on his knees. "Oh, Richard, I wish you +would--HOW I wish you would!" + +"Why, Polly!" said Mahony, surprised at her agitation. "Why, my dear, +what's all this?--You want to know if I never thought of setting up in +practice out here? Of course I did . . . in the beginning. You don't +think I'd have chosen to keep a store, if there'd been any other opening +for me? But there wasn't, child. The place was overrun. Never a medico +came out and found digging too much for him, but he fell back in despair +on his profession. I didn't see my way to join their starvation band." + +"Yes, THEN, Richard!--but now?" broke in Polly. "Now, it's quite, quite +different. Look at the size Ballarat has grown--there are more than +forty thousand people settled on it; Mr. Ocock told me so. And you know, +dear, doctors have cleared out lately, not come fresh. There was that +one, I forget his name, who drank himself to death; and the two, you +remember, who were sold up just before Christmas." But this was an +unfortunate line of argument to have hit on, and Polly blushed and +stumbled. + +Mahony laughed at her slip, and smoothed her hair. "Typical fates, love! +They mustn't be mine. Besides, Polly, you're forgetting the main thing-- +how I hate the place, and how I've always longed to get away." + +"No, I'm not. But please let me go on.--You know, Richard, every one +believes some day Ballarat will be the chief city--bigger even than +Geelong or Melbourne. And then to have a good practice here would mean +ever such a lot of money. I'm not the only person who thinks so. There's +Sara, and Mrs. Beamish--I know, of course, you don't care much what +they say; but still--" Polly meant: still, you see, I have public +opinion on my side. As, however, once more words failed her, she +hastened to add: "John, too, is amazed to hear you think of going home +to bury yourself in some little English village. He's sure there'd be a +splendid opening for you here. John thinks very, very highly of you. He +told me he believes you would have saved Emma's life, if you had been +there." + +"I'm much obliged to your brother for his confidence," said Mahony +dryly; "but--" + +"Wait a minute, Richard! You see, dear, I can't help feeling myself that +you ought not to be too hasty in deciding. Of course, I know I'm young, +and haven't had much experience, but . . . You see, you're KNOWN here, +Richard, and that's always something; in England you'd be a perfect +stranger. And though you may say there are too many doctors on the Flat, +still, if the place goes on growing as it is doing, there'll soon be +room for more; and then, if it isn't you, it'll just be some one else. +And that DOES seem a pity, when you are so clever--so much, much +cleverer than other people! Yes, I know all about it; Mrs. Beamish told +me it was you I owed my life to, not Dr. Rogers"--at which Mahony +winced, indignant that anyone should have betrayed to Polly how near +death she had been. "Oh, I DO want people to know you for what you +really are!" said little Polly. + +"Pussy, I believe she has ambitions for her husband," said Mahony to +Palmerston. + +"Of course I have. You say you hate Ballarat, and all that, but have you +ever thought, Richard, what a difference it would make if you were in a +better position? You think people look down on you, because you're in +trade. But if you were a doctor, there'd be none of that. You'd call +yourself by your full name again, and write it down on the visiting list +at Government House, and be as good as anybody, and be asked into +society, and keep a horse. You'd live in a bigger house, and have a room +to yourself and time to read and write. I'm quite sure you'd make lots +of money and soon be at the top of the tree. And after all, dear +Richard, I don't want to go home. I would much rather stay here and look +after Jerry, and dear Ned, and poor John's children," said Polly, +falling back as a forlorn hope on her own preference. + +"Why, what a piece of special pleading!" cried Mahony, and leaning +forward, he kissed the young flushed face. + +"Don't laugh at me. I'm in earnest." + +"Why, no, child. But Polly, my dear, even if I were tempted for a moment +to think seriously of what you say, where would the money come from? +Fees are high, it's true, if the ball's once set a-rolling. But till +then? With a jewel of a wife like mine, I'd be a scoundrel to take +risks." + +Polly had been waiting for this question. On hearing it, she sat back on +her heels and drew a deep breath. The communication she had now to make +him was the hub round which all turned. Should he refuse to consider +it.... Plucking at the fringe of the tablecloth, she brought out, +piecemeal, the news that John was willing to go surety for the money +they would need to borrow for the start. Not only that: he offered them +a handsome sum weekly to take entire charge of his children.--"Not +here, in this little house--I know that wouldn't do," Polly hastened to +throw in, forestalling the objection she read in Richard's eyes. Now did +he not think he should weigh an offer of this kind very carefully? A +name like John's was not to be despised; most people in their position +would jump at it. "I understand something about it," said the little +woman, and sagely nodded her head. "For when I was in Geelong, Mr. +Beamish tried his hardest to raise some money and couldn't, his sureties +weren't good enough." Mahony had not the heart to chide her for +discussing his private affairs with her brother. Indeed, he rather +admired the businesslike way she had gone about it. And he admitted +this, by ceasing to banter and by calling her attention to the various +hazards and inconveniences the step would entail. + +Polly heard him out in silence. Enough for her, in the beginning, that +he did not decline off-hand. They had a long talk, the end of which was +that he promised to sleep over John's proposal, and delay fixing the +date of the auction till the morning. + +Having yielded this point Mahony kissed his wife and sent her to bed, +himself going out with the dog for his usual stroll. + +It was a fine night--moonless, but thick with stars. So much, at least, +could be said in favour of the place: there was abundant sky-room; you +got a clear half of the great vault at once. How he pitied, on such a +night, the dwellers in old, congested cities, whose view of the starry +field was limited to a narrow strip, cut through house-tops. + +Yet he walked with a springless tread. The fact was, certain of his +wife's words had struck home; and in the course of the past year he had +learnt to put considerable faith in Polly's practical judgment. As he +wound his way up the little hill to which he had often carried his +perplexities, he let his pipe go out, and forgot to whistle Pompey off +butcher's garbage. + +Sitting down on a log he rested his chin in his hands. Below him +twinkled the sparse lights of the Flat; shouts and singing rose from the +circus.--And so John would have been willing to go surety for him! Let +no one say the unexpected did not happen. All said and done, they were +little more than strangers to each other, and John had no notion what +his money-making capacities as a doctor might be. It was true, Polly had +been too delicate to mention whether the affair had come about through +her persuasions or on John's own initiative. John might have some +ulterior motive up his sleeve. Perhaps he did not want to lose his +sister . . . or was scheming to bind a pair of desirables fast to this +colony, the welfare of which he had so much at heart. Again, it might be +that he wished to buy off the memory of that day on which he had +stripped his soul naked. Simplest of all, why should he not be merely +trying to pay back a debt? He, Mahony, might shrink from lying under an +obligation to John, but, so far, the latter had not scrupled to accept +favours from him. But that was always the way with your rich men; they +were not troubled by paltry pride; for they knew it was possible to +acquit themselves of their debts at a moment's notice, and with +interest. This led him to reflect on the great help to him the loan of +his wealthy relative's name would be: difficulties would melt before it. +And surely no undue risk was involved in the use of it? Without +boasting, he thought he was better equipped, both by aptitude and +training, than the ruck of colonial practitioners. Did he enter the +lists, he could hardly fail to succeed. And out here even a moderate +success spelled a fortune. Gained double-quick, too. After which the +lucky individual sold out and went home, to live in comfort. Yes, that +was a point, and not to be overlooked. No definite surrender of one's +hopes was called for; only a postponement. Ten years might do it--meaty +years, of course, the best years of one's life--still . . . . It would +mean very hard work; but had he not just been contemplating, with +perfect equanimity, an even more arduous venture on the other side? What +a capricious piece of mechanism was the human brain! + +Another thought that occurred to him was that his services might prove +more useful to this new country than to the old, where able men +abounded. He recalled many good lives and promising cases he had here +seen lost and bungled. To take the instance nearest home--Polly's +confinement. Yes, to show his mettle to such as Rogers; to earn respect +where he had lived as a mere null--the idea had an insidious +fascination. And as Polly sagely remarked: if it were not he, it would +be some one else; another would harvest the KUDOS that might have been +his. For the rough-and-ready treatment--the blue pills and black +draughts--that had satisfied the early diggers had fallen into +disrepute; medical skill was beginning to be appreciated. If this went +on, Ballarat would soon stand on a level with any city of its size at +home. But even as it was, he had never been quite fair to it; he had +seen it with a jaundiced eye. And again he believed Polly hit the nail +on the head, when she asserted that the poor position he had occupied +was responsible for much of his dislike. + +But there was something else at work in him besides. Below the surface +an admission awaited him, which he shrank from making. All these pros +and cons, these quibbles and hair-splittings were but a misfit attempt +to cloak the truth. He might gull himself with them for a time: in his +heart he knew that he would yield--if yield he did--because he was by +nature only too prone to follow the line of least resistance. What he +had gone through to-night was no new experience. Often enough after +fretting and fuming about a thing till it seemed as if nothing under the +sun had ever mattered so much to him, it could happen that he suddenly +threw up the sponge and bowed to circumstance. His vitality exhausted +itself beforehand--in a passionate aversion, a torrent of words--and +failed him at the critical moment. It was a weakness in his blood--in +the blood of his race.--But in the present instance, he had an excuse +for himself. He had not known--till Polly came out with her brother's +offer--how he dreaded having to begin all over again in England, an +utter stranger, without influence or recommendations, and with no money +to speak of at his back. + +But now he owned up, and there was no more need of shift or subterfuge: +now it was one rush and hurry to the end. He had capitulated; a +thin-skinned aversion to confronting difficulties, when he saw the chance +of avoiding them, had won the day. He intended--had perhaps the whole time +intended--to take the hand held out to him. After all, why not? Anyone +else, as Polly said, would have jumped at John's offer. He alone must +argue himself blue in the face over it. + +But as he sat and pondered the lengthy chain of circumstance--Polly's +share in it, John's, his own, even the part played by incorporeal things +--he brought up short against the word "decision". He might flatter +himself by imagining he had been free to decide; in reality nothing was +further from the truth. He had been subtly and slily guided to his goal +--led blindfold along a road that not of his choosing. Everything and +every one had combined to constrain him: his favours to John, the +failure of his business, Polly's inclinations and persuasions, his own +fastidious shrinkings. So that, in the end, all he had had to do was to +brush aside a flimsy gossamer veil, which hung between him and his fate. +Was it straining a point to see in the whole affair the workings of a +Power outside himself--against himself, in so far as it took no count +of his poor earth-blind vision? + +Well, if this were so, better still: his ways were in God's hand. And +after all, what did it matter where one strove to serve one's Maker-- +east or west or south or north--and whether the stars overhead were +grouped in this constellation or in that? Their light was a pledge that +one would never be overlooked or forgotten, traced by the hand of Him +who had promised to note even a sparrow's fall. And here he spoke aloud +into the darkness the ancient and homely formula that is man's stand-by +in face of the untried, the unknown. + +"If God wills.... God knows best." + + + + + +Part III + + +Chapter I + +The house stood not far from the Great Swamp. It was of weather-board, +with a galvanised iron roof, and might have been built from a child's +drawing of a house: a door in the centre, a little window on either +side, a chimney at each end. Since the ground sloped downwards, the +front part rested on piles some three feet high, and from the rutty +clay-track that would one day be a street wooden steps led up to the +door. Much as Mahony would have liked to face it with a verandah, he did +not feel justified in spending more than he could help. And Polly not +only agreed with him, but contrived to find an advantage in the plainer +style of architecture. "Your plate will be better seen, Richard, right +on the street, than hidden under a verandah." But then Polly was +overflowing with content. Had not two of the rooms fireplaces? And was +there not a wash-house, with a real copper in it, behind the detached +kitchen? Not to speak of a spare room!--To the rear of the house a high +paling-fence enclosed a good-sized yard. Mahony dreamed of a garden, +Polly of keeping hens. + +There were no two happier people on Ballarat that autumn than the +Mahonys. To and fro they trudged down the hill, across the Flat, over +the bridge and up the other side; first, through a Sahara of dust, then, +when the rains began, ankle-deep in gluey red mud. And the building of +the finest mansion never gave half so much satisfaction as did that of +this flimsy little wooden house, with its thin lath-and-plaster walls. +In fancy they had furnished it and lived in it, long before it was even +roofed in. Mahony sat at work in his surgery--it measured ten by twelve +--Polly at her Berlin-woolwork in the parlour opposite: "And a cage with +a little parrot in it, hanging at the window." + +The preliminaries to the change had gone smoothly enough--Mahony could +not complain. Pleasant they had not been; but could the arranging and +clinching of a complicated money-matter ever be pleasant? He had had to +submit to hearing his private affairs gone into by a stranger; to make +clear to strangers his capacity for earning a decent income. + +With John's promissory letter in his pocket, he had betaken himself to +Henry Ocock's office. + +This, notwithstanding its excellent position on the brow of the western +hill, could not deny its humble origin as a livery-barn. The entry was +by a yard; and some of the former horse-boxes had been rudely knocked +together to provide accommodation. Mahony sniffed stale dung. + +In what had once been the harness-room, two young men sat at work. + +"Why, Tom, my lad, you here?" + +Tom Ocock raised his freckled face, from the chin of which sprouted some +long fair hairs, and turned red. + +"Yes, it's me. Do you want to see 'En--" at an open kick from his +brother--"Mr. Ocock?" + +"If you please." + +Informed by Grindle that the "Captain" was at liberty, Mahony passed to +an inner room where he was waved to a chair. In answer to his statement +that he had called to see about raising some money, Ocock returned an: +"Indeed? Money is tight, sir, very tight!" his face instantly taking on +the blank-wall solemnity proper to dealings with this world's main +asset. + +Mahony did not at once hand over John's way-soothing letter. He thought +he would first test the lawyer's attitude towards him in person--a +species of self-torment men of his make are rarely able to withstand. He +spoke of the decline of his business; of his idea of setting up as a +doctor and building himself a house; and, as he talked, he read his +answer pat and clear in the ferrety eyes before him. There was a bored +tolerance of his wordiness, an utter lack of interest in the concerns of +the petty tradesman. + +"H'm." Ocock, lying back in his chair, was fitting five outstretched +fingers to their fellows. "All very well, my good sir, but may I ask if +you have anyone in view as a security?" + +"I have. May I trouble you to glance through this?" and triumphantly +Mahony brandished John's letter. + +Ocock raised his brows. "What? Mr. John Turnham? Ah, very good . . . +very good indeed!" The brazen-faced change in his manner would have made +a cat laugh; he sat upright, was interested, courteous, alert. "Quite in +order! And now, pray, how much do we need?" + +Unadvised, he had not been able, said Mahony, to determine the sum. So +Ocock took pencil and paper, and, prior to running off a reckoning, put +him through a sharp interrogation. Under it Mahony felt as though his +clothing was being stripped piece by piece off his back. At one moment +he stood revealed as mean and stingy, at another as an unpractical +spendthrift. More serious things came out besides. He began to see, +under the limelight of the lawyer's inquiry, in what a muddle-headed +fashion he had managed his business, and how unlikely it was he could +ever have made a good thing of it. Still worse was his thoughtless folly +in wedding and bringing home a young wife without, in this settlement +where accident was rife, where fires were of nightly occurrence, +insuring against either fire or death. Not that Ocock breathed a hint of +censure: all was done with a twist of the eye, a purse of the lip; but +it was enough for Mahony. He sat there, feeling like an eel in the +skinning, and did not attempt to keep pace with the lawyer, who hunted +figures into the centre of a woolly maze. + +The upshot of these calculations was: he would need help to the tune of +something over one thousand pounds. As matters stood at present on +Ballarat, said Ocock, the plainest house he could build would cost him +eight hundred; and another couple of hundred would go in furnishing; +while a saddle-horse might be put down at fifty pounds. On Turnham's +letter he, Ocock, would be prepared to borrow seven hundred for him-- +and this could probably be obtained at ten per cent on a mortgage of the +house; and a further four hundred, for which he would have to pay twelve +or fifteen. Current expenses must be covered by the residue of this +savings, and by what he was able to make. They would include the keep of +the horse, and the interest on the borrowed money, which might be +reckoned roughly at a hundred and twenty per annum. In addition, he +would be well advised to insure his life for five to seven hundred +pounds. + +The question also came up whether the land he had selected for building +on should be purchased or not. He was for doing so, for settling the +whole business there and then. Ocock, however, took the opposite view. +Considering, said he, that the site chosen was far from the centre of +the town, Mahony might safely postpone buying in the meanwhile. There +had been no government land-sales of late, and all main-road frontages +had still to come under the hammer. As occupier, when the time arrived, +he would have first chance at the upset price; though then, it was true, +he would also be liable for improvements. The one thing he must beware +of was of enclosing too small a block. + +Mahony agreed--agreed to everything: the affair seemed to have passed +out of his hands. A sense of dismay invaded him while he listened to the +lawyer tick off the obligations and responsibilities he was letting +himself in for. A thousand pounds! He to run into debt for such a sum, +who had never owed a farthing to anyone! He fell to doubting whether, +after all, he had made choice of the easier way, and lapsed into a +gloomy silence. + +Ocock on the other hand warmed to geniality. + +"May I say, doctor, how wise I think your decision to come over to us?" +--He spoke as if Ballarat East were in the heart of the Russian steppes. +"And that reminds me. There's a friend of mine. . . . I may be able at +once to put a patient in your way." + +Mahony walked home in a mood of depression which it took all Polly's +arts to dispel. + +Under its influence he wrote an outspoken letter to Purdy--but with no +very satisfactory result. It was like projecting a feeler for sympathy +into the void, so long was it since they had met, and so widely had his +friend's life branched from his. + +Purdy's answer--it was headed "The Ovens"--did not arrive till several +weeks later, and was mainly about himself. + +IN A WAY I'M WITH YOU, OLD PILL-BOX, he wrote. YOU'LL CUT A JOLLY SIGHT +BETTER FIGURE AS AN M.D. THEN EVER YOU'VE DONE BEHIND A COUNTER. BUT I +DON'T KNOW THAT I'D CARE TO STAKE MY LAST DOLLAR ON YOU ALL THE SAME. +WHAT DOES MRS. POLLY SAY?--AS FOR ME, OLD BOY, SINCE YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH +TO ASK, WHY THE LESS SAID THE BETTER. ONE OF THESE DAYS A POOR WORN OLD +SHICER'LL COME CRAWLING ROUND TO YOUR BACK DOOR TO SEE IF YOU'VE ANY +CAST-OFF DUDS YOU CAN SPARE HIM. SERIOUSLY, DICK, OLD MAN, I'M STONY-BROKE +ONCE MORE AND THE LORD ONLY KNOWS HOW I'M GOING TO WIN THROUGH. + +In the course of that winter, custom died a natural death; and one day, +the few oddments that remained having been sold by auction, Mahony and +his assistant nailed boards horizontally across the entrance to the +store. The day of weighing out pepper and salt was over; never again +would the tinny jangle of the accursed bell smite his ears. The next +thing was that Hempel packed his chattels and departed for his new walk +in life. Mahony was not sorry to see him go. Hempel's thoughts had +soared far above the counter; he was arrived at the stage of: "I'm just +as good as you!" which everyone here reached sooner or later. + +"I shall always be pleased to hear how you are getting on." + +Mahony spoke kindly, but in a tone which, as Polly who stood by, very +well knew, people were apt to misunderstand. + +"I should think so!" she chimed in. "I shall feel very hurt indeed, +Hempel, if you don't come and see us." + +With regard to Long Jim, she had a talk with her husband one night as +they went to bed. + +"There really won't be anything for him to do in the new house. No heavy +crates or barrels to move about. And he doesn't know a thing about +horses. Why not let him go home?--he does so want to. What would you +say, dear, to giving him thirty pounds for his passage-money and a +trifle in his pocket? It would make him very happy, and he'd be off your +hands for good.--Of course, though, just as you think best." + +"We shall need every penny we can scrape together, for ourselves, Polly. +And yet, my dear, I believe you're right. In the new house, as you say, +he'll be a mere encumbrance. As for me, I'd be only too thankful never +to hear his cantankerous old pipe again. I don't know now what evil +genius prompted me to take him in." + +"Evil genius, indeed!" retorted Polly. "You did it because you're a +dear, good, kind-hearted man." + +"Think so, wifey? I'm inclined to put it down to sheer dislike of +botheration--Irish inertia . . . the curse of our race." + +"Yes, yes, I knoo you'd be wantin' to get rid o' me, now you're goin' up +in the world," was Long Jim's answer when Polly broached her scheme for +his benefit. "Well, no, I won't say anythin' against you, Mrs. Mahony; +you've treated me square enough. But doc., 'e's always thought 'imself a +sight above one, an' when 'e does, 'e lets you feel it." + +This was more than Polly could brook. "And sighing and groaning as you +have done to get home, Jim! You're a silly, ungrateful old man, even to +hint at such a thing." + +"Poor old fellow, he's grumbled so long now, that he's forgotten how to +do anything else," she afterwards made allowance for him. And added, +pierced by a sudden doubt: "I hope his wife will still be used to it, or +. . . or else . . ." + +And now the last day in the old house was come. The furniture, stacked +in the yard, awaited the dray that was to transport it. Hardly worth +carrying with one, thought Mahony, when he saw the few poor sticks +exposed to the searching sunlight. Pipe in mouth he mooned about, +feeling chiefly amazed that he could have put up, for so long, with the +miserable little hut which his house, stripped of its trimmings, proved +to be. + +His reflections were cut short by old Ocock, who leaned over the fence +to bid his neighbours good-bye. + +"No disturbance! Come in, come in!" cried Mahony, with the rather +spurious heartiness one is prone to throw into a final invitation. And +Polly rose from her knees before a clothes-basket which she was filling +with crockery, and bustled away to fetch the cake she had baked for such +an occasion. + +"I'll miss yer bright little face, that I will!" said Mr. Ocock, as he +munched with the relish of a Jerry or a Ned. He held his slice of cake +in the hollow of one great palm, conveying with extreme care the pieces +he broke off to his mouth. + +"You must come and see us, as soon as ever we're settled." + +"Bless you! You'll soon find grander friends than an old chap like me." + +"Mr. Ocock! And you with three sons in the law!" + +"Besides, mark my words, it'll be your turn next to build," Mahony +removed his pipe to throw in. "We'll have you over with us yet." + +"And what a lovely surprise for Miss Amelia when she arrives, to find a +bran'-new house awaiting her." + +"Well, that's the end of this little roof-tree," said Mahony.--The +loaded dray had driven off, the children and Ellen perched on top of the +furniture, and he was giving a last look round. "We've spent some very +happy days under it, eh, my dear?" + +"Oh, very," said Polly, shaking out her skirts. "But we shall be just as +happy in the new one." + +"God grant we may! It's not too much to hope I've now seen all the downs +of my life. I've managed to pack a good many into thirty short years.-- +And that reminds me, Mrs. Townshend-Mahony, do you know you will have +been married to me two whole years, come next Friday?" + +"Why, so we shall!" cried Polly, and was transfixed in the act of tying +her bonnet-strings. "How time does fly! It seems only the other day I +saw this room for the first time. I peeped in, you know, while you were +fetching the box. DO you remember how I cried, Richard? I was afraid of +a spider or something." And the Polly of eighteen looked back, with a +motherly amusement, at her sixteen-year-old eidolon. "But now, dear, if +you're ready . . . or else the furniture will get there before we do. +We'd better take the short cut across Soldiers' Hill. That's the cat in +that basket, for you to carry, and here's your microscope. I've got the +decanter and the best teapot. Shall we go?" + + + + +Chapter II + +And now for a month or more Mahony had been in possession of a room that +was all his own. Did he retire into it and shut the door, he could make +sure of not being disturbed. Polly herself tapped before entering; and +he let her do so. Polly was dear; but dearer still was his long-coveted +privacy. + +He knew, too, that she was happily employed; the fitting-up and +furnishing of the house was a job after her own heart. She had proved +both skilful and economical at it: thanks to her, they had used a bare +three-quarters of the sum allotted by Ocock for the purpose--and this +was well; for any number of unforeseen expenses had cropped up at the +last moment. Polly had a real knack for making things "do". Old empty +boxes, for instance, underwent marvellous transformations at her hands-- +emerged, clad in chintz and muslin, as sofas and toilet-tables. She hung +her curtains on strings, and herself sewed the seams of the parlour +carpet, squatting Turk-fashion on the floor, and working away, with a +great needle shaped like a scimitar, till the perspiration ran down her +face. It was also she who, standing on the kitchen-table, put up the +only two pictures they possessed, Ned and Jerry giving opinions on the +straightness of her eye, from below: a fancy picture of the Battle of +Waterloo in the parlour; a print of "Harvey Discovering the Circulation +of the Blood" on the surgery wall. + +From where he sat Mahony could hear the voices of the children--John's +children--at play. They frolicked with Pompey in the yard. He could +endure them, now that he was not for ever tumbling over them. Yes, one +and all were comfortably established under the new roof--with the +exception of poor Palmerston the cat. Palmerston had declined to +recognise the change, and with the immoderate homing-instinct of his +kind had returned night after night to his old haunts. For some time +Mahony's regular evening walk was back to the store--a road he would +otherwise not have taken; for it was odious to him to see Polly's neat +little appointments going to rack and ruin, under the tenancy of a dirty +Irish family. There he would find the animal sitting, in melancholy +retrospect. Again and again he picked him up and carried him home; till +that night when no puss came to his call, and Palmerston, the black and +glossy, was seen no more: either he had fallen down a shaft, or been +mangled by a dog, or stolen, cats still fetching a high price on +Ballarat. + +The window of Mahony's room faced a wide view: not a fence, hardly a bit +of scrub or a tuft of grass-tree marked the bare expanse of uneven +ground, now baked brown as a piecrust by the December sun. He looked +across it to the cemetery. This was still wild and unfenced--just a +patch of rising ground where it was permissible to bury the dead. Only +the day before--the second anniversary of the Eureka Stockade--he had +watched some two to three hundred men, with crepe on their hats and +sleeves, a black-draped pole at their head, march there to do homage to +their fallen comrades. The dust raised by the shuffling of these many +feet had accompanied the procession like a moving cloud; had lingered in +its rear like the smoke from a fire. Drays and lorries crawled for ever +laboriously along it, seeming glued to the earth by the monstrous sticky +heat of the veiled sun. Further back rose a number of bald hills-- +rounded, swelling hills, shaped like a woman's breasts. And behind all, +pale china-blue against the tense white sky, was the embankment of the +distant ranges. Except for these, an ugly, uninviting outlook, and one +to which he seldom lifted his eyes. + +His room pleased him better. Polly had stretched a bright green drugget +on the floor; the table had a green cloth on it; the picture showed up +well against the whitewashed wall. Behind him was a large deal cupboard, +which held instruments and drugs. The bookshelves with their precious +burden were within reach of his hand; on the top shelf he had stacked +the boxes containing his botanical and other specimens. + +The first week or so there was naturally little doing: a sprained wrist +to bandage, a tooth to draw, a case of fly-blight. To keep himself from +growing fidgety, he overhauled his minerals and butterflies, and renewed +faded labels. This done, he went on to jot down some ideas he had, with +regard to the presence of auriferous veins in quartz. It was now +generally agreed that quartz was the matrix; but on the question of how +the gold had found its way into the rock, opinions were sharply divided. +The theory of igneous injection was advanced by some; others inclined to +that of sublimation. Mahony leaned to a combination of the two +processes, and spent several days getting his thoughts in order; while +Polly, bursting with pride, went about on tiptoe audibly hushing the +children: their uncle was writing for the newspapers. + +Still no patients worth the name made their appearance. To fend off the +black worry that might get the better of him did he sit idle, he next +drew his Bible to him, and set about doing methodically what he had so +far undertaken merely by fits and starts--deciding for himself to what +degree the Scriptures were inspired. Polly was neither proud nor happy +while this went on, and let the children romp unchecked. At present it +was not so much the welfare of her husband's soul she feared for: God +must surely know by this time what a good man Richard was; he had not +his equal, she thought, for honesty and uprightness; he was kind to the +poor and the sick, and hadn't missed a single Sunday at church, since +their marriage. But all that would not help, if once he got the +reputation of being an infidel. Then, nobody would want him as a doctor +at all. + +Casually begun, Mahony's studies soon absorbed him to the exclusion of +everything else. + +Brought up in the cast-iron mould of Irish Protestantism, to which, +being of a sober and devout turn of mind, he had readily submitted, he +had been tossed, as a youthful student, into the freebooting Edinburgh +of the forties. Edinburgh was alive in those days to her very +paving-stones; town and university combined to form a hotbed of +intellectual unrest, a breeding-ground for disturbing possibilities. The +"development theory" was in the air; and a book that appeared anonymously +had boldly voiced, in popular fashion, Maillet's dream and the Lamarckian +hypothesis of a Creation undertaken once and for all, in place of a +continuous creative intenention. This book, opposing natural law to +miracle, carried complete conviction to the young and eager. Audacious +spirits even hazarded the conjecture that primitive life itself might +have originated in a natural way: had not, but recently, an investigator +who brought a powerful voltaic battery to bear on a saturated solution +of silicate of potash, been startled to find, as the result of his +experiment, numberless small mites of the species ACARUS HORRIDUS? Might +not the marvel electricity or galvanism, in action on albumen, turn out +to be the vitalising force? To the orthodox zoologist, phytologist and +geologist, such a suggestion savoured of madness; they either took +refuge in a contemptuous silence, or condescended only to reply: Had one +visited the Garden of Eden during Creation, one would have found that, +in the morning, man was not, while in the evening he was!--morning and +evening bearing their newly established significance of geological +epochs. The famous tracing of the Creator's footsteps, undertaken by a +gifted compromiser, was felt by even the most bigoted to be a lame +rejoinder. His ASTEROLEPSIS, the giant fossil-fish from the Old Red +Sandstone, the antiquity of which should show that the origin of life +was not to be found solely in "infusorial points," but that highly +developed forms were among the earliest created--this single prop was +admittedly not strong enough to carry the whole burden of proof. No, the +immutability of species had been seriously impugned, and bold minds +asked themselves why a single act of creation, at the outset, should not +constitute as divine an origin of life as a continued series of +"creative fiats." + +Mahony was one of them. The "development theory" did not repel him. He +could see no impiety in believing that life, once established on the +earth, had been left to perfect itself. Or hold that this would +represent the Divine Author of all things as, after one master-stroke, +dreaming away eternal ages in apathy and indifference. Why should the +perfect functioning of natural law not be as convincing an expression of +God's presence as a series of cataclysmic acts of creation? + +None the less it was a time of crisis, for him, as for so many. For, if +this were so, if science spoke true that, the miracle of life set a-going, +there had been no further intervention on the part of the +Creator, then the very head-and-corner stone of the Christian faith, the +Bible itself, was shaken. More, much more would have to go than the +Mosaic cosmogony of the first chapter of Genesis. Just as the Elohistic +account of creation had been stretched to fit the changed views of +geologists, so the greater part of the scriptural narratives stood in +need of a wider interpretation. The fable of the Eternal's personal +mediation in the affairs of man must be accepted for what it was--a +beautiful allegory, the fondly dreamed fulfilment of a world-old desire. +And bringing thus a sharpened critical sense to bear on the Scriptures, +Mahony embarked on his voyage of discovery. Before him, but more as a +warning than a beacon, shone the example of a famous German savant, who, +taking our Saviour's life as his theme, demolished the sacred idea of a +Divine miracle, and retold the Gospel story from a rationalistic +standpoint. A savagely unimaginative piece of work this, thought Mahony, +and one that laid all too little weight on the deeps of poetry, the +mysteries of symbols, and the power the human mind drew from these, to +pierce to an ideal truth. His own modest efforts would be of quite +another kind. + +For he sought, not to deny God, but to discover Him anew, by freeing Him +from the drift of error, superstition and dead-letterism which the +centuries had accumulated about Him. Far was it from His servant's mind +to wish to decry the authority of the Book of Books. This he believed to +consist, in great part, of inspired utterances, and, for the rest, to be +the wisest and ripest collection of moral precept and example that had +come down to us from the ages. Without it, one would be rudderless +indeed--a castaway in a cockleshell boat on a furious sea--and from +one's lips would go up a cry like to that wrung from a famous infidel: +"I am affrighted and confounded with the forlorn solitude in which I am +placed by my philosophy . . .begin to fancy myself in the most +deplorable condition imaginable, environed by the deepest darkness." + +No, Mahony was not one of those who held that the Christian faith, that +fine flower of man's spiritual need, would suffer detriment by the +discarding of a few fabulous tales; nor did he fear lest his own faith +should become undermined by his studies. For he had that in him which +told him that God was; and this instinctive certainty would persist, he +believed, though he had ultimately to admit the whole fabric of +Christianity to be based on the Arimathean's dream. It had already +survived the rejection of externals: the surrender of forms, the +assurance that ceremonials were not essential to salvation belonged to +his early student-days. Now, he determined to send by the board the last +hampering relics of bigotry and ritual. He could no longer concede the +tenets of election and damnation. God was a God of mercy, not the blind, +jealous Jahveh of the Jews, or the inhuman Sabbatarian of a narrow +Protestantism. And He might be worshipped anywhere or anyhow: in any +temple built to His name--in the wilderness under the open sky--in +silent prayer, or according to any creed. + +In all this critical readjustment, the thought he had to spare for his +fellow-men was of small account: his fate was not bound to theirs by the +altruism of a later generation. It was a time of intense individualism; +and his efforts towards spiritual emancipation were made on his own +behalf alone. The one link he had with his fellows--if link it could be +termed--was his earnest wish to avoid giving offence: never would it +have occurred to him to noise his heterodoxy abroad. Nor did he want to +disturb other people's convictions. He respected those who could still +draw support from the old faith, and, moreover, had not a particle of +the proselytiser in him. He held that religion was either a matter of +temperament, or of geographical distribution; felt tolerantly inclined +towards the Jews, and the Chinese; and did not even smile at processions +to the Joss-house, and the provisioning of those silent ones who needed +food no more. + +But just as little as he intermeddled with the convictions of others +would he brook interference with his own. It was the concern of no third +person what paths he followed in his journeyings after the truth--in +his quest for a panacea for the ills and delusions of life. For, call it +what he would--Biblical criticism, scientific inquiry--this was his +aim first and last. He was trying to pierce the secret of existence--to +rede the riddle that has never been solved.--What am I? Whence have I +come? Whither am I going? What meaning has the pain I suffer, the evil +that men do? Can evil be included in God's scheme?--And it was well, he +told himself, as he pressed forward, that the flame in him burnt +unwaveringly, which assured him of his kinship with the Eternal, of the +kinship of all created things; so unsettling and perplexing were the +conclusions at which he arrived. + +Summoned to dinner, he sat at table with stupid hands and evasive eyes. +Little Johnny, who was, as Polly put it, "as sharp as mustard," was +prompt to note his uncle's vacancy. + +"What you staring at, Nunkey?" he demanded, his mouth full of +roly-pudding, which he was stuffing down with all possible dispatch. + +"Hush, Johnny. Don't tease your uncle." + +"What do you mean, my boy?" + +"I mean . . ." Young John squeezed his last mouthful over his windpipe +and raised his plate. "I mean, you look just like you was seein' a +emeny.--More puddin', Aunt Polly!" + +"What does the child mean? An anemone?" + +"NO!" said John with the immense contempt of five years. "I didn't say +anner emeny." Here, he began to tuck in anew, aiding the slow work of +his spoon with his more habile fingers. "A emeny's d emeny. Like on de +pickshur in Aunt Polly's room. One . . . one's de English, an' one's de +emeny." + +"It's the Battle of Waterloo," explained Polly. "He stands in front of +it every day." + +"Yes. An' when I'm a big man, I'm goin' to be a sojer, an' wear a red +coat, an' make 'bung'!" and he shot an imaginary gun at his sister, who +squealed and ducked her head. + +"An ancient wish, my son," said Mahony, when Johnny had been reproved +and Trotty comforted. "Tom-thumbs like you have voiced it since the +world--or rather since war first began." + +"Don't care. Nunkey, why is de English and why is de emeny?" + +But Mahony shrank from the gush of whats and whys he would let loose on +himself, did he attempt to answer this question. "Come, shall uncle make +you some boats to sail in the wash-tub?" + +"Wiv a mast an' sails an' everyfing?" cried John wildly; and throwing +his spoon to the floor, he scrambled from his chair. "Oh yes, Nunkey-- +dear Nunkey!" + +"Dea Unkey!" echoed the shadow. + +"Oh, you cupboard lovers, you!" said Mahony as, order restored and +sticky mouths wiped, two pudgy hands were thrust with a new kindness +into his. + +He led the way to the yard; and having whittled out for the children +some chips left by the builders, he lighted his pipe and sat down in the +shade of the house. Here, through a veiling of smoke, which hung +motionless in the hot, still air, he watched the two eager little +mortals before him add their quota to the miracle of life. + + + + +Chapter III + +Polly had no such absorbing occupation to tide her over these empty days +of waiting; and sometimes--especially late in the afternoon, when her +household duties were done, the children safely at play--she found it +beyond her power to stitch quietly at her embroidery. Letting the canvas +fall to her knee, she would listen, listen, listen till the blood sang +in her ears, for the footsteps and knocks at the door that never came. +And did she draw back the window-curtain and look out, there was not a +soul to be seen: not a trace of the string of prosperous, paying +patients she had once imagined winding their way to the door. + +And meanwhile Richard was shut up in his room, making those dreadful +notes in the Bible which it pinched her heart even to think of. He +really did not seem to care whether he had a practice or not. All the +new instruments, got from Melbourne, lay unused in their casings; and +the horse was eating its head off, at over a pound a week, in the +livery-barn. Polly shrank from censuring her husband, even in thought; +but as she took up her work again, and went on producing in wools a +green basket of yellow fruit on a magenta ground, she could not help +reflecting what she would have done at this pass, had she been a man. +She would have announced the beginning of her practice in big letters in +the STAR, and she would have gone down into the township and mixed with +people and made herself known. With Richard, it was almost as if he felt +averse from bringing himself into public notice. + +Only another month now, and the second instalment of interest would fall +due. Polly did not know exactly what the sum was; but she did know the +date. The first time, they had had no difficulty in meeting the bill, +owing to their economy in furnishing. But what about this one, and the +next again? How were payments to be made, and kept up, if the patients +would not come? + +She wished with all her heart that she was ten years older. For what +could a person who was only eighteen be supposed to understand of +business? Richard's invariable answer, did she venture a word, was not +to worry her little head about such things. + +When, however, another week had dribbled away in the same fashion, Polly +began to be afraid the date of payment had slipped his memory +altogether. She would need to remind him of it, even at the risk of +vexing him. And having cast about for a pretext to intrude, she decided +to ask his advice on a matter that was giving her much uneasiness; +though, had he been REALLY busy, she would have gone on keeping it to +herself. + +It related to little Johnny. + +Johnny was a high-spirited, passionate child, who needed most careful +handling. At first she had managed him well enough. But ever since his +five months' boarding-out, he had fallen into deceitful ways; and the +habit of falsehood was gaining on him. Bad by nature, Polly felt sure +the child was not; but she could not keep him on the straight path now +he had discovered that a lie might save him a punishment. He was not to +be shamed out of telling it; and the only other cure Polly knew of was +whipping. She whipped him; and provoked him to fury. + +A new misdeed on his part gave her the handle she sought. Johnny had +surreptitiously entered her pantry and stolen a plateful of cakes. Taxed +with the theft he denied it; and cornered, laid, Adam-like, the blame on +his companion, asserting that Trotty had persuaded him to take the +goodies; though bewildered innocence was writ all over the baby's chubby +face. + +Mahony had the young sinner up before him. But he was able neither to +touch the child's heart, nor to make him see the gravity of what he had +done: never being allowed inside the surgery, John could now not take +his eyes off the wonderful display of gold and purple and red moths, +which were pinned, with outstretched wings, to a sheet of cork. He stood +o-mouthed and absentminded, and only once shot a blue glance at his +uncle to say: "But if dey're so baddy . . . den why did God MAKE lies +an' de debble?"--which intelligent query hit the nail of one of +Mahony's own misgivings on the head. + +No real depravity, was his verdict. Still, too much of a handful, it was +plain, for Polly's inexperience. "A problem for John himself to tackle, +my dear. Why should we have to drill a non-existent morality into his +progeny? Besides, I'm not going to have you blamed for bad results, +later on." He would write to John there and then, and request that +Johnny be removed from their charge. + +Polly was not prepared for this summary solution of her dilemma, and +began to regret having brought it up; though she could not but agree +with Richard that it would never do for the younger child to be +corrupted by a bad example. However she kept her wits about her. Did +John take the boy away, said she, she was afraid she would have to ask +for a larger housekeeping allowance. The withdrawal of the money for +Johnny's board would make a difference to their income. + +"Of course," returned Mahony easily, and was about to dismiss the +subject. + +But Polly stood her ground. "Talking of money, Richard, I don't know +whether you remember . . . you've been so busy . . . that it's only +about a fortnight now till the second lot of interest falls due." + +"What!--a fortnight?" exclaimed her husband, and reached out for an +almanack. "Good Lord, so it is! And nothing doing yet, Polly . . . +absolutely nothing!" + +"Well, dear, you can't expect to jump into a big practice all at once, +can you? But you see, I think the trouble is, not nearly enough people +know you've started." And a little imploringly, and very apologetically, +Polly unfolded her artless schemes for self-advertisement. + +"Wife, I've a grave suspicion!" said Mahony, and took her by the chin. +"While I've sat here with my head in the clouds, you've been worrying +over ways and means, and over having such an unpractical old dreamer for +a husband. Now, child, that won't do. I didn't marry to have my girl +puzzling her little brains where her next day's dinner was to come from. +Away with you, to your stitching! Things will be all right, trust to +me." + +And Polly did trust him, and was so satisfied with what she had effected +that, raising her face for a kiss, she retired with an easy mind to +overhaul Johnny's little wardrobe. + +But the door having clicked behind her, Mahony's air of forced assurance +died away. For an instant he hesitated beside the table, on which a +rampart of books lay open, then vigorously clapped each volume to and +moved to the window, chewing at the ends of his beard. A timely +interruption! What the dickens had he been about, to forget himself in +this fool's paradise, when the crassest of material anxieties--that of +pounds, shillings and pence--was crouched, wolf-like, at his door? + +That night he wakened with a jerk from an uneasy sleep. Though at noon +the day before, the thermometer had registered over a hundred in the +shade, it was now bitterly cold, and these abrupt changes of temperature +always whipped up his nerves. Even after he had piled his clothes and an +opossum-rug on top of the blankets, he could not drop off again. He lay +staring at the moonlit square of the window, and thinking the black +thoughts of night. + +What if he could not manage to work up a practice? . . . found it +impossible to make a living? His plate had been on the door for close on +two months now, and he had barely a five-pound note to show for it. What +was to be done? Here Polly's words came back to him with new stress. +"Not nearly enough people know you've started." That was it!--Polly had +laid her finger on the hitch. The genteel manners of the old country did +not answer here; instead of sitting twiddling his thumbs, waiting for +patients to seek him out, he ought to have adopted the screaming methods +of advertisement in vogue on Ballarat. To have had "Holloway's Pills +sold here!" "Teeth extracted painlessly!" "Cures guaranteed!" painted +man-high on his outside house-wall. To have gone up and down and round +the township; to have been on the spot when accidents happened; to have +hobnobbed with Tom, Dick and Harry in bars and saloons. And he saw a +figure that looked like his the centre of a boisterous crowd; saw +himself slapped on the back by dirty hands, shouting and shouted to +drinks. He turned his pillow, to drive the image away. Whatever he had +done or not done, the fact remained that a couple of weeks hence he had +to make up the sum of over thirty pounds. And again he discerned a +phantom self, this time a humble supplicant for an extension of term, +brought up short against Ocock's stony visage, flouted by his cocksy +clerk. Once more he turned his pillow. These quarterly payments, which +dotted all his coming years, were like little rock-islands studding the +surface of an ocean, and telling of the sunken continent below: this +monstrous thousand odd pounds he had been fool enough to borrow. Never +would he be able to pay off such a sum, never again be free from the +incubus of debt. Meanwhile, not the ground he stood on, not the roof +over his head could actually be called his own. He had also been too +pushed for money, at the time, to take Ocock's advice and insure his +life. + +These thoughts spun themselves to a nightmare-web, in which he was the +hapless fly. Putting a finger to his wrist, he found he had the pulse of +a hundred that was not uncommon to him. He got out of bed, to dowse his +head in a basin of water. Polly, only half awake, sat up and said: +"What's the matter, dear? Are you ill?" In replying to her he disturbed +the children, the door of whose room stood ajar; and by the time quiet +was restored, further sleep was out of the question. He dressed and +quitted the house. + +Day was breaking; the moon, but an hour back a globe of polished silver, +had now no light left in her, and stole, a misty ghost, across the +dun-coloured sky. A bank of clouds that had had their night-camp on the +summit of Mount Warrenheip was beginning to disperse; and the air had +lost its edge. He walked out beyond the cemetary, then sat down on a +tree-stump and looked back. The houses that nestled on the slope were +growing momently whiter; but the Flat was still sunk in shadow and haze, +making old Warrenheip, for all its half-dozen miles of distance, seem +near enough to be touched by hand. But even in full daylight this woody +peak had a way of tricking the eye. From the brow of the western hill, +with the Flat out of sight below, it appeared to stand at the very foot +of those streets that headed east--first of one, then of another, +moving with you as you changed position, like the eyes of a portrait +that follow you wherever you go.--And now the sky was streaked with +crimson-madder; the last clouds scattered, drenched in orange and rose, +and flames burned in the glass of every window-pane. Up came the tip of +the sun's rim, grew to a fiery quarter, to a half; till, bounding free +from the horizon, it began to mount and to lose its girth in the +immensity of the sky. + +The phantasms of the night yielded like the clouds to its power. He was +still reasonably young, reasonably sound, and had the better part of a +lifetime before him. Rising with a fresh alacrity, he whistled to his +dog, and walked briskly home to bath and breakfast. + +But that evening, at the heel of another empty day, his nervous +restlessness took him anew. From her parlour Polly could hear the thud +of his feet, going up and down, up and down his room. And it was she who +was to blame for disturbing him! + +"Yet what else could I do?" + +And meditatively pricking her needle in and out of the window-curtain, +Polly fell into a reverie over her husband and his ways. How strange +Richard was . . . how difficult! First, to be able to forget all about +how things stood with him, and then to be twice as upset as other +people. + +John demanded the immediate delivery of his young son, undertaking soon +to knock all nasty tricks out of him. On the day fixed for Johnny's +departure husband and wife were astir soon after dawn. Mahony was to +have taken the child down to the coach-office. But Johnny had been awake +since two o'clock with excitement, and was now so fractious that Polly +tied on her bonnet and accompanied them. She knew Richard's hatred of a +scene. + +"You just walk on, dear, and get his seat," she said, while she dragged +the cross, tired child on her hand to the public-house, where even at +this hour a posse of idlers hung about. + +And she did well to be there. Instantly on arriving Johnny set up a +wail, because there was talk of putting him inside the vehicle; and this +persisted until the coachman, a goat-bearded Yankee, came to the rescue +and said he was darned if such a plucky young nipper shouldn't get his +way: he'd have the child tied on beside him on the box-seat--be blowed +if he wouldn't! But even this did not satisfy Johnny; and while Mahony +went to procure a length of rope, he continued to prance round his aunt +and to tug ceaselessly at her sleeve. + +"Can I dwive, Aunt Polly, can I dwive? Ask him, can I dwive!" he roared, +beating her skirts with his fists. He was only silenced by the driver +threatening to throw him as a juicy morsel to the gang of bushrangers +who, sure as blazes, would be waiting to stick the coach up directly it +entered the bush. + +Husband and wife lingered to watch the start, when the champing horses +took a headlong plunge forward and, together with the coach, were +swallowed up in a whirlwind of dust. A last glimpse discovered Johnny, +pale and wide-eyed at the lurching speed, but sitting bravely erect. + +"The spirit of your brother in that child, my dear!" said Mahony as they +made to walk home. + +"Poor little Johnny," and Polly wiped her eyes. "If only he was going +back to a mother who loved him, and would understand." + +"I'm sure no mother could have done more for him than you, love." + +"Yes, but a real mother wouldn't need to give him up, however naughty he +had been." + +"I think the young varmint might have shown some regret at parting from +you, after all this time," returned her husband, to whom it was +offensive if even a child was lacking in good feeling. "He never turned +his head. Well, I suppose it's a fact, as they say, that the natural +child is the natural barbarian." + +"Johnny never meant any harm. It was I who didn't know how to manage +him," said Polly staunchly.--"Why, Richard, what IS the matter?" For +letting her arm fall Mahony had dashed to the other side of the road. + +"Good God, Polly, look at this!" + +"This" was a printed notice, nailed to a shed, which announced that a +sale of frontages in Mair and Webster Streets would shortly be held. + +"But it's not our road. I don't understand." + +"Good Lord, don't you see that if they're there already, they'll be out +with us before we can say Jack Robinson? And then where shall I be?" +gave back Mahony testily. + +"Let us talk it over. But first come home and have breakfast. Then . . . +yes, then, I think you should go down and see Mr. Henry, and hear what +he says." + +"You're right. I must see Ocock.--Confound the fellow! It's he who has +let me in for this." + +"And probably he'll know some way out. What else is a lawyer for, dear?" + +"Quite true, my Polly. None the less, it looks as if I were in for a run +of real bad luck, all along the line." + + + + +Chapter IV + +One hot morning some few days later, Polly, with Trotty at her side, +stood on the doorstep shading her eyes with her hand. She was on the +look-out for her "vegetable man," who drove in daily from the Springs +with his greenstuff. He was late as usual: if Richard would only let her +deal with the cheaper, more punctual Ah Sing, who was at this moment +coming up the track. But Devine was a reformed character: after, as a +digger, having squandered a fortune in a week, he had given up the drink +and, backed by a hard-working, sober wife, was now trying to earn a +living at market-gardening. So he had to be encouraged. + +The Chinaman jog-trotted towards them, his baskets a-sway, his mouth +stretched to a friendly grin. "You no want cabbagee to-day? Me got velly +good cabbagee," he said persuasively and lowered his pole. + +"No thank you, John, not to-day. Me wait for white man." + +"Me bling pleasant for lilly missee," said the Chow; and unknotting a +dirty nosecloth, he drew from it an ancient lump of candied ginger. +"Lilly missee eatee him . . . oh, yum, yum! Velly good. My word!" + +But Chinamen to Trotty were fearsome bogies, corresponding to the +swart-faced, white-eyed chimney-sweeps of the English nursery. She hid +behind her aunt, holding fast to the latter's skirts, and only stealing an +occasional peep from one saucer-like blue eye. + +"Thank you, John. Me takee chowchow for lilly missee," said Polly, who +had experience in disposing of such savoury morsels. + +"You no buy cabbagee to-day?" repeated Ah Sing, with the catlike +persistence of his race. And as Polly, with equal firmness and +good-humour, again shook her head, he shouldered his pole and departed at +a half-run, crooning as he went. + +Meanwhile at the bottom of the road another figure had come into view. +It was not Devine in his spring-cart; it was some one on horseback, was +a lady, in a holland habit. The horse, a piebald, advanced at a sober +pace, and--"Why, good gracious! I believe she's coming here." + +At the first of the three houses the rider had dismounted, and knocked +at the door with the butt of her whip. After a word with the woman who +opened, she threw her riding-skirt over one arm, put the other through +the bridle, and was now making straight for them. + +As she drew near she smiled, showing a row of white teeth. "Does Dr. +Mahony live here?" + +Misfortune of misfortunes!--Richard was out. + +But almost instantly Polly grasped that this would tell in his favour. +"He won't be long, I know." + +"I wonder," said the lady, "if he would come out to my house when he +gets back? I am Mrs Glendinning--of Dandaloo." + +Polly flushed, with sheer satisfaction: Dandaloo was one of the largest +stations in the neighbourhood of Ballarat. "Oh, I'm certain he will," +she answered quickly. + +"I am so glad you think so," said Mrs. Glendinning. "A mutual friend, +Mr. Henry Ocock, tells me how clever he is." + +Polly's brain leapt at the connection; on the occasion of Richard's last +visit the lawyer had again repeated the promise to put a patient in his +way. Ocock was one of those people, said Richard, who only remembered +your existence when he saw you.--Oh, what a blessing in disguise had +been that troublesome old land sale! + +The lady had stooped to Trotty, whom she was trying to coax from her +lurking-place. "What a darling! How I envy you!" + +"Have you no children?" Polly asked shyly, when Trotty's relationship +had been explained. + +"Yes, a boy. But I should have liked a little girl of my own. Boys are +so difficult," and she sighed. + +The horse nuzzling for sugar roused Polly to a sense of her remissness. +"Won't you come in and rest a little, after your ride?" she asked; and +without hesitation Mrs. Glendinning said she would like to, very much +indeed; and tying the hone to the fence, she followed Polly into the +house. + +The latter felt proud this morning of its apple-pie order. She drew up +the best armchair, placed a footstool before it and herself carried in a +tray with refreshments. Mrs. Glendinning had taken Trotty on her lap, +and given the child her long gold chains to play with. Polly thought her +the most charming creature in the world. She had a slender waist, and an +abundant light brown chignon, and cheeks of a beautiful pink, in which +two fascinating dimples came and went. The feather from her riding-hat +lay on her neck. Her eyes were the colour of forget-me-nots, her mouth +was red as any rose. She had, too, so sweet and natural a manner that +Polly was soon chatting frankly about herself and her life, Mrs. +Glendinning listening with her face pressed to the spun-glass of +Trotty's hair. + +When she rose, she clasped both Polly's hands in hers. "You dear little +woman. . . may I kiss you? I am ever so much older than you." + +"I am eighteen," said Polly. + +"And I on the shady side of twenty-eight!" + +They laughed and kissed. "I shall ask your husband to bring you out to +see me. And take no refusal. AU REVOIR!" and riding off, she turned in +the saddle and waved her hand. + +For all her pleasurable excitement Polly did not let the grass grow +under her feet. There being still no sign of Richard--he had gone to +Soldiers' Hill to extract a rusty nail from a child's foot--Ellen was +sent to summon him home; and when the girl returned with word that he +was on the way, Polly dispatched her to the livery-barn, to order the +horse to be got ready. + +Richard took the news coolly. "Did she say what the matter was?" + +No, she hadn't; and Polly had not liked to ask her; it could surely be +nothing very serious, or she would have mentioned it. + +"H'm. Then it's probably as I thought. Glendinning's failing is well +known. Only the other day, I heard that more than one medical man had +declined to have anything further to do with the case. It's a long way +out, and fees are not always forthcoming. HE doesn't ask for a doctor, +and, womanlike, she forgets to pay the bills. I suppose they think +they'll try a greenhorn this time." + +Pressed by Polly, who was curious to learn everything about her new +friend, he answered: "I should be sorry to tell you, my dear, how many +bottles of brandy it is Glendinning's boast he can empty in a week." + +"Drink? Oh, Richard, how terrible! And that pretty, pretty woman!" cried +Polly, and drove her thoughts backwards: she had seen no hint of tragedy +in her caller's lovely face. However, she did not wait to ponder, but +asked, a little anxiously: "But you'll go, dear, won't you?" + +"Go? Of course I shall! Beggars can't be choosers." "Besides, you know, +you MIGHT be able to do something where other people have failed." + +Mahony rode out across the Flat. For a couple of miles his route was one +with the Melbourne Road, on which plied the usual motley traffic. Then, +branching off at right angles, it dived into the bush--in this case a +scantly wooded, uneven plain, burnt tobacco-brown and hard as iron. + +Here went no one but himself. He and the mare were the sole living +creatures in what, for its stillness, might have been a painted +landscape. Not a breath of air stirred the weeping grey-green foliage of +the gums; nor was there any bird-life to rustle the leaves, or peck, or +chirrup. Did he draw rein, the silence was so intense that he could +almost hear it. + +On striking the outlying boundary of Dandaloo, he dismounted to slip a +rail. After that he was in and out of the saddle, his way leading +through numerous gateless paddocks before it brought him up to the +homestead. + +This, a low white wooden building, overspread by a broad verandah--from +a distance it looked like an elongated mushroom--stood on a hill. At +the end, the road had run alongside a well-stocked fruit and +flower-garden; but the hillside itself, except for a gravelled walk in +front of the house, was uncultivated--was given over to dead thistles and +brown weeds. + +Fastening his bridle to a post, Mahony unstrapped his bag of necessaries +and stepped on to the verandah. A row of French windows stood open; but +flexible green sun-blinds hid the rooms from view. The front door was a +French window, too, differing from the rest only in its size. There was +neither bell nor knocker. While he was rapping with the knuckles on the +panel, one of the. blinds was pushed aside and Mrs. Glendinning came +out. + +She was still in hat and riding-habit; had herself, she said, reached +home but half an hour ago. Summoning a station-hand to attend to the +horse, she raised a blind and ushered Mahony into the dining-room, where +she had been sitting at lunch, alone at the head of a large table. A +Chinaman brought fresh plates, and Mahony was invited to draw up his +chair. He had an appetite after his ride; the room was cool and dark; +there were no flies. + +Throughout the meal, the lady kept up a running fire of talk--the +graceful chitchat that sits so well on pretty lips. She spoke of the +coming Races; of the last Government House Ball; of the untimely death +of Governor Hotham. To Mahony she instinctively turned a different side +out, from that which had captured Polly. With all her well-bred ease, +there was a womanly deference in her manner, a readiness to be swayed, +to stand corrected. The riding-dress set off her figure; and her +delicate features were perfectly chiselled. ("Though she'll be florid +before she's forty.") + +Some juicy nectarines finished, she pushed back her chair. "And now, +doctor, will you come and see your patient?" + +Mahony followed her down a broad, bare passage. A number of rooms opened +off it, but instead of entering one of these she led him out to a back +verandah. Here, before a small door, she listened with bent head, then +turned the handle and went in. + +The room was so dark that Mahony could see nothing. Gradually he made +out a figure lying on a stretcher-bed. A watcher sat at the bedside. The +atmosphere was more than close, smelt rank and sour. His first request +was for light and air. + +It was the wreck of a fine man that lay there, strapped over the chest, +bound hand and foot to the framework of the bed. The forehead, on which +the hair had receded to a few mean grey wisps, was high and domed, the +features were straight with plenty of bone in them, the shoulders broad, +the arms long. The skin of the face had gone a mahogany brown from +exposure, and a score of deep wrinkles ran out fan-wise from the corners +of the closed lids. Mahony untied the dirty towels that formed the +bandages--they had cut ridges in the limbs they confined--and took one +of the heavy wrists in his hand. + +"How long has he lain like this?" he asked, as he returned the arm to +its place. + +"How long is it, Saunderson?" asked Mrs. Glendinning. She had sat down +on a chair at the foot of the bed; her skirts overflowed the floor. + +The watcher guessed it would be since about the same time yesterday. + +"Was he unusually violent on this occasion?--for I presume such attacks +are not uncommon with him," continued Mahony, who had meanwhile made a +superficial examination of the sick man. + +"I am sorry to say they are only too common, doctor," replied the lady. +--"Was he worse than usual this time, Saunderson?" she turned again to +the man; at which fresh proof of her want of knowledge Mahony mentally +raised his eyebrows. + +"To say trewth, I never see'd the boss so bad before," answered +Saunderson solemnly, grating the palms of the big red hands that hung +down between his knees. "And I've helped him through the jumps more'n +once. It's my opinion it would ha' been a narrow squeak for him this +time, if me and a mate hadn't nipped in and got these bracelets on him. +There he was, ravin' and sweatin' and cursin' his head off, grey as +death. Hell-gate, he called it, said he was devil's-porter at hell-gate, +and kept hollerin' for napkins and his firesticks. Poor ol' boss! It WAS +hell for him and no mistake!" + +By dint of questioning Mahony elicited the fact that Glendinning had +been unseated by a young horse, three days previously. At the time, no +heed was paid to the trifling accident. Later on, however, complaining +of feeling cold and unwell, he went to bed, and after lying wakeful for +some hours was seized by the horrors of delirium. + +Requesting the lady to leave them, Mahony made a more detailed +examination. His suspicions were confirmed: there was internal trouble +of old standing, rendered acute by the fall. Aided by Saunderson, he +worked with restoratives for the best part of an hour. In the end he had +the satisfaction of seeing the coma pass over into a natural repose. + +"Well, he's through this time, but I won't answer for the next," he +said, and looked about him for a basin in which to wash his hands. +"Can't you manage to keep the drink from him?--or at least to limit +him?" + +"Nay, the Almighty Himself couldn't do that," gave back Saunderson, +bringing forward soap and a tin dish. + +"How does it come that he lies in a place like this?" asked Mahony, as +he dried his hands on a corner of the least dirty towel, and glanced +curiously round. The room--in size it did not greatly exceed that of a +ship's-cabin--was in a state of squalid disorder. Besides a deal table +and a couple of chairs, its main contents were rows and piles of old +paper-covered magazines, the thick brown dust on which showed that they +had not been moved for months--or even years. The whitewashed walls +were smoke-tanned and dotted with millions of fly-specks; the dried +corpses of squashed spiders formed large black patches; all four corners +of the ceiling were festooned with cobwebs. + +Saunderson shrugged his shoulders. "This was his den when he first was +manager here, in old Morrison's time, and he's stuck to it ever since. +He shuts himself up in here, and won't have a female cross the threshold +--nor yet Madam G. herself." + +Having given final instructions, Mahony went out to rejoin the lady. + +"I will not conceal from you that your husband is in a very precarious +condition." + +"Do you mean, doctor, he won't live long?" She had evidently been lying +down: one side of her face was flushed and marked. Crying, too, or he +was much mistaken: her lids were red-rimmed, her shapely features +swollen. + +"Ah, you ask too much of me; I am only a woman; I have no influence over +him," she said sadly, and shook her head. + +"What is his age?" + +"He is forty-seven." + +Mahony had put him down for at least ten years older, and said so. But +the lady was not listening: she fidgeted with her lace-edged +handkerchief, looked uneasy, seemed to be in debate with herself. +Finally she said aloud: "Yes, I will." And to him: "Doctor, would you +come with me a moment?" + +This time she conducted him to a well-appointed bedchamber, off which +gave a smaller room, containing a little four-poster draped in dimity. +With a vague gesture in the direction of the bed, she sank on a chair +beside the door. + +Drawing the curtains Mahony discovered a fair-haired boy of some eight +or nine years old. He lay with his head far back, his mouth wide open-- +apparently fast asleep. + +But the doctor's eye was quick to see that it was no natural sleep. +"Good God! who is responsible for this?" + +Mrs. Glendinning held her handkerchief to her face. "I have never told +any one before," she wept. "The shame of it, doctor . . . is more than I +can bear." + +"Who is the blackguard? Come, answer me, if you please!" + +"Oh, doctor, don't scold me. . . I am so unhappy." The pretty face +puckered and creased; the full bosom heaved. "He is all I have. And such +a bright, clever little fellow! You will cure him for me, won't you?" + +"How often has it happened?" + +"I don't know . . . about five or six times, I think . . . perhaps more. +There's a place not far from here where he can get it . . . an old +hut-cook my husband dismissed once, in a fit of temper--he has oh such a +temper! Eddy saddles his pony and rides out there, if he's not watched; +and then . . . then, they bring him back . . . like this." + +"But who supplies him with money?" + +"Money? Oh, but doctor, he can't be kept without pocket-money! He has +always had as much as he wanted.--No, it is all my husband's doing,"-- +and now she broke out in one of those shameless confessions, from which +the medical adviser is never safe. "He hates me; he is only happy if he +can hurt me and humiliate me. I don't care what becomes of him. The +sooner he dies the better!" + +"Compose yourself, my dear lady. Later you may regret such hasty words. +--And what has this to do with the child? Come, speak out. It will be a +relief to you to tell me." + +"You are so kind, doctor," she sobbed, and drank, with hysterical +gurglings, the glass of water Mahony poured out for her. "Yes, I will +tell you everything. It began years ago--when Eddy was only a tot in +jumpers. It used to amuse my husband to see him toss off a glass of wine +like a grown-up person; and it WAS comical, when he sipped it, and +smacked his lips. But then he grew to like it, and to ask for it, and be +cross when he was refused. And then. . . then he learnt how to get it +for himself. And when his father saw I was upset about it, he egged him +on--gave it to him on the sly.--Oh, he is a bad man, doctor, a BAD, +cruel man! He says such wicked things, too. He doesn't believe in God, +or that it is wrong to take one's own life, and he says he never wanted +children. He jeers at me because I am fond of Eddy, and because I go to +church when I can, and says . . . oh, I know I am not clever, but I am +not quite such a fool as he makes me out to be. He speaks to me as if I +were the dirt under his feet. He can't bear the sight of me. I have +heard him curse the day he first saw me. And so he's only too glad to be +able to come between my boy and me . . . in any way he can." + +Mahony led the weeping woman back to the dining-room. There he sat long, +patiently listening and advising; sat, till Mrs. Glendinning had dried +her eyes and was her charming self once more. + +The gist of what he said was, the boy must be removed from home at once, +and placed in strict, yet kind hands. + +Here, however, he ran up against a weak maternal obstinacy. "Oh, but I +couldn't part from Eddy. He is all I have. . . . And so devoted to his +mammy." + +As Mahony insisted, she looked the picture of helplessness. "But I +should have no idea how to set about it. And my husband would put every +possible obstacle in the way." + +"With your permission I will arrange the matter myself." + +"Oh, how kind you are!" cried Mrs. Glendinning again. "But mind, doctor, +it must be somewhere where Eddy will lack none of the comforts he is +accustomed to, and where his poor mammy can see him whenever she wishes. +Otherwise he will fret himself ill." + +Mahony promised to do his best to satisfy her, and declining, very +curtly, the wine she pressed on him, went out to mount his horse which +had been brought round. + +Following him on to the verandah, Mrs. Glendinning became once more the +pretty woman frankly concerned for her appearance. "I don't know how I +look, I'm sure," she said apologetically, and raised both hands to her +hair. "Now I will go and rest for an hour. There is to be opossuming and +a moonlight picnic to-night at Warraluen." Catching Mahony's eye fixed +on her with a meaning emphasis, she changed colour. "I cannot sit at +home and think, doctor. I MUST distract myself; or I should go mad." + +When he was in the saddle she showed him her dimples again, and her +small, even teeth. "I want you to bring your wife to see me next time +you come," she sad, patting the horse's neck. "I took a great fancy to +her--a sweet little woman!" + +But Mahony, jogging downhill, said to himself he would think twice +before introducing Polly there. His young wife's sunny, girlish outlook +should not, with his consent, be clouded by a knowledge of the sordid +things this material prosperity hid from view. A whited sepulchre seemed +to him now the richly appointed house, the well-stocked gardens, the +acres on acres of good pasture-land: a fair outside when, within, all +was foul. He called to mind what he knew by hearsay of the owner. +Glendinning was one of the pioneer squatters of the district, had held +the run for close on fifteen years. Nowadays, when the land round was +entirely taken up, and a place like Ballarat stood within stone's-throw, +it was hard to imagine the awful solitude to which the early settlers +had been condemned. Then, with his next neighbour miles and miles away, +Melbourne, the nearest town, a couple of days' ride through trackless +bush, a man was a veritable prisoner in this desert of paddocks, with +not a soul to speak to but rough station-hands, and nothing to occupy +his mind but the damage done by summer droughts and winter floods. No +support or comradeship in the wife either--this poor pretty foolish +little woman: "With the brains of a pigeon!" Glendinning had the name of +being intelligent: was it, under these circumstances, matter for wonder +that he should seek to drown doubts, memories, inevitable regrets; +should be led on to the bitter discovery that forgetfulness alone +rendered life endurable? Yes, there was something sinister in the dead +stillness of the melancholy bush; in the harsh, merciless sunlight of +the late afternoon. + +A couple of miles out his horse cast a shoe, and it was evening before +he reached home. Polly was watching for him on the doorstep, in a +twitter lest some accident had happened or he had had a brush with +bushrangers. + +"It never rains but it pours, dear!" was her greeting: he had been twice +sent for to the Flat, to attend a woman in labour.--And with barely +time to wash the worst of the ride's dust off him, he had to pick up his +bag and hurry away. + + + + +Chapter V + +"A very striking-looking man! With perfect manners--and beautiful +hands." + +Her head bent over her sewing, Polly repeated these words to herself +with a happy little smile. They had been told her, in confidence, by +Mrs. Glendinning, and had been said by this lady's best friend, Mrs. +Urquhart of Yarangobilly: on the occasion of Richard's second call at +Dandaloo, he had been requested to ride to the neighbouring station to +visit Mrs. Urquhart, who was in delicate health. And of course Polly had +passed the flattering opinion on; for, though she was rather a good hand +at keeping a secret--Richard declared he had never known a better--yet +that secret did not exist--or up till now had not existed--which she +could imagine herself keeping from him. + +For the past few weeks these two ladies had vied with each other in +singing Richard's praises, and in making much of Polly: the second time +Mrs. Glendinning called she came in her buggy, and carried off Polly, +and Trotty, too, to Yarangobilly, where there was a nestful of little +ones for the child to play with. Another day a whole brakeful of lively +people drove up to the door in the early morning, and insisted on Polly +accompanying them, just as she was, to the Racecourse on the road to +Creswick's Creek. And everybody was so kind to her that Polly heartily +enjoyed herself, in spite of her plain print dress. She won a pair of +gloves and a piece of music in a philippine with Mr Urquhart, a jolly, +carroty-haired man, beside whom she sat on the box-seat coming home; and +she was lucky enough to have half-a-crown on one of the winners. An +impromptu dance was got up that evening by the merry party, in a hall in +the township; and Polly had the honour of a turn with Mr. Henry Ocock, +who was most affable. Richard also looked in for an hour towards the +end, and valsed her and Mrs. Glendinning round. + +Polly had quite lost her heart to her new friend. At the outset Richard +had rather frowned on the intimacy--but then he was a person given to +taking unaccountable antipathies. In this case, however, he had to +yield; for not only did a deep personal liking spring up between the two +women, but a wave of pity swept over Polly, blinding her to more subtle +considerations. Before Mrs. Glendinning had been many times at the +house, she had poured out all her troubles to Polly, impelled thereto by +Polly's quick sympathy and warm young eyes. Richard had purposely given +his wife few details of his visits to Dandaloo; but Mrs. Glendinning +knew no such scruples, and cried her eyes out on Polly's shoulder. + +What a dreadful man the husband must be! "For she really is the dearest +little woman, Richard. And means so well with every one--I've never +heard her say a sharp or unkind word.--Well, not very clever, perhaps. +But everybody can't be clever, can they? And she's good--which is +better. The only thing she seems a teeny-weeny bit foolish about is her +boy. I'm afraid she'll never consent to part with him."--Polly said +this to prepare her husband, who was in correspondence on the subject +with Archdeacon Long and with John in Melbourne. Richard was putting +himself to a great deal of trouble, and would naturally be vexed if +nothing came of it. + +Polly paid her first visit to Dandaloo with considerable trepidation. +For Mrs. Urquhart, who herself was happily married--although, it was +true, her merry, red-haired husband had the reputation of being a LITTLE +too fond of the ladies, and though he certainly did not make such a +paying concern of Yarangobilly as Mr. Glendinning of Dandaloo--Mrs. +Urquhart had whispered to Polly as they sat chatting on the verandah: +"Such a DREADFUL man, my dear! . . . a perfect brute! Poor little Agnes. +It is wonderful how she keeps her spirits up." + +Polly, however, was in honour bound to admit that to her the owner of +Dandaloo had appeared anything but the monster report made him out to +be. He was perfectly sober the day she was there, and did not touch wine +at luncheon; and afterwards he had been most kind, taking her with him +on a quiet little broad-backed mare to an outlying part of the station, +and giving her several hints how to improve her seat. He was certainly +very haggard-looking, and deeply wrinkled, and at table his hand shook +so that the water in his glass ran over. But all this only made Polly +feel sorry for him, and long to help him. + +"My dear, you ARE favoured! I never knew James make such an offer +before," whispered Mrs. Glendinning, as she pinned her ample riding-skirt +round her friend's slim hips. + +The one thing about him that disturbed Polly was his manner towards his +wife: he was savagely ironic with her, and trampled hobnailed on her +timid opinions. But then Agnes didn't know how to treat him, Polly soon +saw that: she was nervous and fluttery--evasive, too; and once during +lunch even told a deliberate fib. Slight as was her acquaintance with +him, Polly felt sure this want of courage must displease him; for there +was something very simple and direct about his own way of speaking. + +"My dear, why don't you stand up to him?" asked little Polly. + +"Dearest, I dare not. If you knew him as I do, Polly. . . . He TERRIFIES +me.--Oh, what a lucky little woman you are . . . to have a husband like +yours." + +Polly had recalled these words that very morning as she stood to watch +Richard ride away: never did he forget to kiss her good-bye, or to turn +and wave to her at the foot of the road. Each time she admired afresh +the figure he cut on horseback: he was so tall and slender, and sat so +straight in his saddle. Now, too, he had yielded to her persuasions and +shaved off his beard; and his moustache and side-whiskers were like his +hair, of an extreme, silky blond. Ever since the day of their first +meeting at Beamish's Family Hotel, Polly had thought her husband the +handsomest man in the world. And the best, as well. He had his +peculiarities, of course; but so had every husband; and it was part of a +wife's duty to study them, to adapt herself to them, or to endeavour to +tone them down. And now came these older, wiser ladies and confirmed her +high opinion of him. Polly beamed with happiness at this juncture, and +registered a silent vow always to be the best of wives. + +Not like--but here she tripped and coloured, on the threshold of her +thought. She had recently been the recipient of a very distressing +confidence; one, too, which she was not at liberty to share, even with +Richard. For, after the relief of a thorough-paced confession, Mrs. +Glendinning had implored her not to breathe a word to him--"I could +never look him in the face again, love!" Besides, the affair was of such +a painful nature that Polly felt little desire to draw Richard into it; +it was bad enough that she herself should know. The thing was this: once +when Polly had stayed overnight at Dandaloo Agnes Glendinning in a +sudden fit of misery had owned to her that she cared for another person +more than for her own husband, and that her feelings were returned. + +Shocked beyond measure, Polly tried to close her friend's lips. "I don't +think you should mention any names, Agnes," she cried. "Afterwards, my +dear, you might regret it." + +But Mrs. Glendinning was hungry for the luxury of speech--not even to +Louisa Urquhart had she broken silence, she wept; and that, for the sake +of Louisa's children--and she persisted in laying her heart bare. And +here certain vague suspicions that had crossed Polly's mind on the night +of the impromptu ball--they were gone again, in an instant, quick as +thistledown on the breeze--these suddenly returned, life-size and +weighty; and the name that was spoken came as no surprise to her. Yes, +it was Mr. Henry Ocock to whom poor Agnes was attached. There had been a +mutual avowal of affection, sobbed the latter; they met as often as +circumstances permitted. Polly was thunder-struck: knowing Agnes as she +did, she herself could not believe any harm of her; but she shuddered at +the thought of what other people--Richard, for instance--would say, +did they get wind of it. She implored her friend to caution. She ought +never, never to see Mr. Ocock. Why did she not go away to Melbourne for +a time? And why had he come to Ballarat? + +"To be near me, dearest, to help me if I should need him.--Oh, you +can't think what a comfort it is, Polly, to feel that he IS here--so +good, and strong, and clever!--Yes, I know what you mean . . . but this +is quite, quite different. Henry does not expect me to be clever, too-- +does not want me to be. He prefers me as I am. He dislikes clever +women .. . would never marry one. And we SHALL marry, darling, some +day--when . . ." + +Henry Ocock! Polly tried to focus everything she knew of him, all her +fleeting impressions, in one picture--and failed. He had made himself +very agreeable, the single time she had met him; but. . . . There was +Richard's opinion of him: Richard did not like him or trust him; he +thought him unscrupulous in business, cold and self-seeking. Poor, poor +little Agnes! That such a misfortune should befall just her! Stranger +still that she, Polly, should be mixed up in it. + +She had, of course, always known from books that such things did happen; +but then they seemed quite different, and very far away. Her thoughts at +this crisis were undeniably woolly; but the gist of them was, that life +and books had nothing in common. For in stories the woman who forgot +herself was always a bad woman; whereas not the harshest critic could +call poor Agnes bad. Indeed, Polly felt that even if some one proved to +her that her friend had actually done wrong, she would not on that +account be able to stop caring for her, or feeling sorry for her. It was +all very uncomfortable and confusing. + +While these thoughts came and went, she half sat, half knelt, a pair of +scissors in her hand. She was busy cutting out a dress, and no table +being big enough for the purpose, had stretched the material on the +parlour floor. This would be the first new dress she had had since her +marriage; and it was high time, considering all the visiting and going +about that fell to her lot just now. Sara had sent the pattern up from +Melbourne, and John, hearing what was in the wind, had most kindly and +generously made her a present of the silk. Polly hoped she would not +bungle it in the cutting; but skirts were growing wider and wider, and +John had not reckoned with quite the newest fashion. + +Steps in the passage made her note subconsciously that Ned had arrived-- +Jerry had been in the house for the past three weeks, with a sprained +wrist. And at this moment her younger brother himself entered the room, +Trotty throned on his shoulder. + +Picking his steps round the sea of stuff, Jerry sat down and lowered +Trotty to his knee. "Ned's grizzling for tea." + +Polly did not reply; she was laying an odd-shaped piece of paper now +this way, now that. + +For a while Jerry played with the child. Then he burst out: "I say, +Poll!" And since Polly paid no heed to his apostrophe: + +"Richard says I can get back to work to-morrow." + +"That's a good thing," answered his sister with an air of abstraction: +she had solved her puzzle to within half a yard. + +Jerry cast a boyishly imploring glance at her back, and rubbed his chin +with his hand. "Poll, old girl--I say, wouldn't you put in a word for +me with Richard? I'm hanged if I want to go back to the claim. I'm sick +to death of digging." + +At this Polly did raise her head, to regard him with grave eyes. "What! +tired of work already, Jerry? I don't know what Richard will say to +that, I'm sure. You had better speak to him yourself." + +Again Jerry rubbed his chin. "That's just it--what's so beastly hard. I +know he'll say I ought to stick to it." + +"So do I." + +"Well, I'd rather groom the horse than that." + +"But think how pleased you were at first!" + +Jerry ruefully admitted it. "One expects to dig out gold like spuds; +while the real thing's enough to give you the blight. As for stopping a +wages-man all my life, I won't do it. I might just as well go home and +work in a Lancashire pit." + +"But Ned--" + +"Oh, Ned! Ned walks about with his head in the clouds. He's always +blowing of what he's GOING to do, and gets his steam off that way. I'm +different." + +But Jerry's words fell on deaf ears. A noise in the next room was +engaging Polly's whole attention. She heard a burr of suppressed +laughter, a scuffle and what sounded like a sharp slap. Jumping up she +went to the door, and was just in time to see Ellen whisk out of the +dining-room. + +Ned sat in an armchair, with his feet on the chimney-piece. "I had the +girl bring in a log, Poll," he said; and looked back and up at his +sister with his cheery smile. Standing behind him, Polly laid her hand +on his hair. "I'll go and see after the tea." Ned was so unconcerned +that she hesitated to put a question. + +In the kitchen she had no such tender scruples; nor was she imposed on +by the exaggerated energy with which Ellen bustled about. "What was that +noise I heard in the dining-room just now?" she demanded. + +"Noise? I dunno," gave back the girl crossly without facing her. + +"Nonsense, Ellen! Do you think I didn't hear?" + +"Oh, get along with you! It was only one of Ned's jokes." And going on +her knees, Ellen set to scrubbing the brick floor with a hiss and a +scratch that rendered speech impossible. Polly took up the laden tea-tray +and carried it into the dining-room. Richard had come home, and the +four drew chairs to the table. + +Mahony had a book with him; he propped it open against the butter-cooler, +and snatched sentences as he ate. It fell to Ned to keep the +ball rolling. Polly was distraite to the point of going wrong in her +sugars; Jerry uneasy at the prospect of coming in conflict with his +brother-in-law, whom he thought the world of. + +Ned was as full of talk as an egg of meat. The theme he dwelt longest on +was the new glory that lay in store for the Ballarat diggings. At +present these were under a cloud. The alluvial was giving out, and the +costs and difficulties of boring through the rock seemed insuperable. +One might hear the opinion freely expressed that Ballarat's day as +premier goldfield was done. Ned set up this belief merely for the +pleasure of demolishing it. He had it at first hand that great companies +were being formed to carry on operations. These would reckon their areas +in acres instead of feet, would sink to a depth of a quarter of a mile +or more, raise washdirt in hundreds of tons per day. One such company, +indeed, had already sprung into existence, out on Golden Point; and now +was the time to nip in. If he, Ned, had the brass, or knew anybody who'd +lend it to him, he'd buy up all the shares he could get. Those who +followed his lead would make their fortunes. "I say, Richard, it'ud be +something for you." + +His words evoked no response. Sorry though I shall be, thought Polly, +dear Ned had better not come to the house so often in future. I wonder +if I need tell Richard why. Jerry was on pins and needles, and even put +Trotty ungently from him: Richard would be so disgusted by Ned's +blatherskite that he would have no patience left to listen to him. + +Mahony kept his nose to his book. As a matter of principle. He made a +rule of believing, on an average, about the half of what Ned said. To +appear to pay attention to him would spur him on to more flagrant +over-statements. + +"D'ye hear, Richard? Now's your chance," repeated Ned, not to be done. +"A very different thing this, I can tell you, from running round dosing +people for the collywobbles. I know men who are raising the splosh any +way they can to get in." + +"I dare say. There's never been any lack of gamblers on Ballarat," said +Mahony dryly, and passed his cup to be refilled. + +Pig-headed fool! was Ned's mental retort, as he sliced a chunk of +rabbit-pie. "Well, I bet you'll feel sore some day you didn't take my +advice," he said aloud. + +"We shall see, my lad, we shall see!" replied Mahony. "In the meantime, +let me inform you, I can make good use of every penny I have. So if +you've come here thinking you can wheedle something out of me, you're +mistaken." He could seldom resist tearing the veil from Ned's gross +hints and impostures. + +"Oh no, Richard dear!" interpolated Polly, in her role of +keeper-of-the-peace. + +Ned answered huffily: "'Pon my word, I never met such a fellow as you, +for thinking the worst of people." + +The thrust went home. Mahony clapped his book to. "You lay yourself open +to it, sir! If I'm wrong, I beg your pardon. But for goodness' sake, +Ned, put all these trashy ideas of making a fortune out of your mind. +Digging is played out, I tell you. Decent people turned their backs on +it long ago." + +"That's what I think, too," threw in Jerry. + +Mahony bit his lip. "Come, come, now, what do you know about it?" + +Jerry flushed and floundered, till Polly came to his aid. "He's been +wanting to speak to you, Richard. He hates the work as much as you did." + +"Well, he has a tongue of his own.--Speak for yourself, my boy!" + +Thus encouraged, Jerry made his appeal; and fearing lest Richard should +throw him, half-heard, into the same category as Ned, he worded it very +tersely. Mahony, who had never given much heed to Jerry--no one did-- +was pleased by his straightforward air. Still, he did not know what +could be done for him, and said so. + +Here Polly had an inspiration. "But I think I do. I remember Mr. Ocock +saying to me the other day he must take another boy into the business, +it was growing so--the fourth, this will make. I don't know if he's +suited yet, but even if he is, he may have heard of something else.-- +Only you know, Jerry, you mustn't mind WHAT it is. After tea I'll put on +my bonnet and go down to the Flat with you. And Ned shall come, too," +she added, with a consoling glance at her elder brother: Ned had +extended his huff to his second slice of pie, which lay untouched on his +plate. + +"Somebody has always got something up her sleeve," said Mahony +affectionately, when Polly came to him in walking costume. "None the +less, wife, I shouldn't be surprised if those brothers of yours gave us +some trouble, before we're done with them." + + + + +Chapter VI + +In the weeks and months that followed, as he rode from one end of +Ballarat to the other--from Yuille's Swamp in the west, as far east as +the ranges and gullies of Little Bendigo--it gradually became plain to +Mahony that Ned's frothy tales had some body in them after all. The +character of the diggings was changing before his very eyes. Nowadays, +except on an outlying muddy flat or in the hands of the retrograde +Chinese, tubs, cradles, and windlasses were rarely to be met with. +Engine-sheds and boiler-houses began to dot the ground; here and there a +tall chimney belched smoke, beside a lofty poppet-head or an aerial +trolley-line. The richest gutters were found to take their rise below +the basaltic deposits; the difficulties and risks of rock-mining had now +to be faced, and the capitalist, so long held at bay, at length made +free of the field. Large sums of money were being subscribed; and, where +these proved insufficient, the banks stepped into the breach with +subsidies on mortgages. The population, in whose veins the gold-fever +still burned, plunged by wholesale into the new hazard; and under the +wooden verandahs of Bridge Street a motley crew of jobbers and brokers +came into existence, who would demonstrate to you, a la Ned, how you +might reap a fortune from a claim without putting in an hour's work on +it--without even knowing where it was. + +A temptation, indeed! . . . but one that did not affect him. Mahony let +the reins droop on his horse's neck, and the animal picked its way among +the impedimenta of the bush road. It concerned only those who had money +to spare. Months, too, must go by before, from even the most promising +of these co-operative affairs, any return was to be expected. As for +him, there still came days when he had not a five-pound note to his +name. It had been a delusion to suppose that, in accepting John's offer, +he was leaving money-troubles behind him. Despite Polly's thrift, their +improved style of life cost more than he had reckoned; the patients, +slow to come, were slower still to discharge their debts. Moreover, he +had not guessed how heavily the quarterly payments of interest would +weigh on him. With as good as no margin, with the fate of every shilling +decided beforehand, the saving up of thirty odd pounds four times a year +was a veritable achievement. He was always in a quake lest he should not +be able to get it together. No one suspected what near shaves he had-- +not even Polly. The last time hardly bore thinking about. At the +eleventh hour he had unexpectedly found himself several pounds short. He +did not close an eye all night, and got up in the morning as though for +his own execution. Then, fortune favoured him. A well-to-do butcher, his +hearty: "What'll yours be?" at the nearest public-house waved aside, had +settled his bill off-hand. Mahony could still feel the sudden lift of +the black fog-cloud that had enveloped him--the sense of bodily +exhaustion that had succeeded to the intolerable mental strain. + +For the coming quarter-day he was better prepared--if, that was, +nothing out of the way happened. Of late he had been haunted by the fear +of illness. The long hours in the saddle did not suit him. He ought to +have a buggy, and a second horse. But there could be no question of it +in the meantime, or of a great deal else besides. He wanted to buy Polly +a piano, for instance; all her friends had pianos; and she played and +sang very prettily. She needed more dresses and bonnets, too, than he +was able to allow her, as well as a change to the seaside in the summer +heat. The first spare money he had should go towards one or the other. +He loved to give Polly pleasure; never was such a contented little soul +as she. And well for him that it was so. To have had a complaining, even +an impatient wife at his side, just now, would have been unbearable. But +Polly did not know what impatience meant; her sunny temper, her fixed +resolve to make the best of everything was not to be shaken. + +Well, comforts galore should be hers some day, he hoped. The practice +was shaping satisfactorily. His attendance at Dandaloo had proved a key +to many doors: folk of the Glendinnings' and Urquharts' standing could +make a reputation or mar it as they chose. It had got abroad, he knew, +that at whatever hour of the day or night he was sent for, he could be +relied on to be sober; and that unfortunately was not always the case +with some of his colleagues. In addition his fellow-practitioners showed +signs of waking up to his existence. He had been called in lately to a +couple of consultations; and the doyen of the profession on Ballarat, +old Munce himself, had praised his handling of a difficult case of +version. + +The distances to be covered--that was what made the work stiff. And he +could not afford to neglect a single summons, no matter where it led +him. Still, he would not have grumbled, had only the money not been so +hard to get in. But the fifty thousand odd souls on Ballarat formed, +even yet, anything but a stable population: a patient you attended one +day might be gone the next, and gone where no bill could reach him. Or +he had been sold off at public auction; or his wooden shanty had gone up +in a flare--hardly a night passed without a fire somewhere. In these +and like accidents the unfortunate doctor might whistle for his fee. It +seldom happened nowadays that he was paid in cash. Money was growing as +scarce here as anywhere else. Sometimes, it was true, he might have +pocketed his fee on the spot, had he cared to ask for it. But the +presenting of his palm professionally was a gesture that was denied him. +And this stand-offishness drove from people's minds the thought that he +might be in actual need of money. Afterwards he sat at home and racked +his brains how to pay butcher and grocer. Others of the fraternity were +by no means so nice. He knew of some who would not stir a yard unless +their fee was planked down before them--old stagers these, who at one +time had been badly bitten and were now grown cynically distrustful. Or +tired. And indeed who could blame a man for hesitating of a pitch-dark +night in the winter rains, or on a blazing summer day, whether or no he +should set out on a twenty-mile ride for which he might never see the +ghost of a remuneration? + +Reflecting thus, Mahony caught at a couple of hard, spicy, grey-green +leaves, to chew as he went: the gums, on which the old bark hung in +ribbons, were in flower by now, and bore feathery yellow blossoms side +by side with nutty capsules. His horse had been ambling forward +unpressed. Now it laid its ears flat, and a minute later its master's +slower senses caught the clop-clop of a second set of hoofs, the noise +of wheels. Mahony had reached a place where two roads joined, and saw a +covered buggy approaching. He drew rein and waited. + +The occupant of the vehicle had wound the reins round the empty +lamp-bracket, and left it to the sagacity of his horse to keep the +familiar track, while he dozed, head on breast, in the corner. The animal +halted of itself on coming up with its fellow, and Archdeacon Long opened +his eyes. + +"Ah, good-day to you, doctor!--Yes, as you see, enjoying a little nap. +I was out early." + +He got down from the buggy and, with bent knees and his hands in his +pockets, stretched the creased cloth of his trousers, where this had cut +into his flesh. He was a big, brawny, handsome man, with a massive nose, +a cloven chin, and the most companionable smile in the world. As he +stood, he touched here a strap, there a buckle on the harness of his +chestnut--a well-known trotter, with which he often made a match--and +affectionately clapped the neck of Mahony's bay. He could not keep his +hands off a horse. By choice he was his own stableman, and in earlier +life had been a dare-devil rider. Now, increasing weight led him to +prefer buggy to saddle; but his recklessness had not diminished. With +the reins in his left hand, he would run his light, two-wheeled trap up +any wooded, boulder-strewn hill and down the other side, just as in his +harum-scarum days he had set it at felled trees, and, if rumour spoke +true, wire-fences. + +Mahony admired the splendid vitality of the man, as well as the +indestructible optimism that bore him triumphantly through all the +hardships of a colonial ministry. No sick bed was too remote for Long, +no sinner sunk too low to be helped to his feet. The leprous Chinaman +doomed to an unending isolation, the drunken Paddy, the degraded white +woman--each came in for a share of his benevolence. He spent the +greater part of his life visiting the outcasts and outposts, beating up +the unbaptised, the unconfirmed, the unwed. But his church did not +suffer. He had always some fresh scheme for this on hand: either he was +getting up a tea-meeting to raise money for an organ; or a series of +penny-readings towards funds for a chancel; or he was training with his +choir for a sacred concert. There was a boyish streak in him, too. He +would enter into the joys of the annual Sunday-school picnic with a zest +equal to the children's own, leading the way, in shirt-sleeves, at +leap-frog and obstacle-race. In doctrine he struck a happy mean between +low-church practices and ritualism, preaching short, spirited sermons to +which even languid Christians could listen without tedium; and on a +week-day evening he would take a hand at a rubber of whist or +ecarte--and not for love--or play a sound game of chess. A man, too, who, +refusing to be bound by the letter of the Thirty-nine Articles, extended +his charity even to persons of the Popish faith. In short, he was one of +the few to whom Mahony could speak of his own haphazard efforts at +criticising the Pentateuch. + +The Archdeacon was wont to respond with his genial smile: "Ah, it's all +very well for you, doctor!--you're a free lance. I am constrained by my +cloth.--And frankly, for the rest of us, that kind of thing's too-- +well, too disturbing. Especially when we have nothing better to put in +its place." + +Doctor and parson--the latter, considerably over six feet, made Mahony, +who was tall enough, look short and doubly slender--walked side by side +for nearly a mile, flitting from topic to topic: the rivalry that +prevailed between Ballarats East and West; the seditious uprising in +India, where both had relatives; the recent rains, the prospects for +grazing. The last theme brought them round to Dandaloo and its unhappy +owner. The Archdeacon expressed the outsider's surprise at the strength +of Glendinning's constitution, and the lively popular sympathy that was +felt for his wife. + +"One's heart aches for the poor little lady, struggling to bear up as +though nothing were the matter. Between ourselves, doctor"--and Mr. +Long took off his straw hat to let the air play round his head-- +"between ourselves, it's a thousand pities he doesn't just pop off the +hooks in one of his bouts. Or that some of you medical gentlemen don't +use your knowledge to help things on." + +He let out his great hearty laugh as he spoke, and his companion's +involuntary stiffening went unnoticed. But on Mahony voicing his +attitude with: "And his immortal soul, sir? Isn't it the church's duty +to hope for a miracle? . . . just as it is ours to keep the vital spark +going," he made haste to take the edge off his words. "Now, now, doctor, +only my fun! Our duty is, I trust, plain to us both." + +It was even easier to soothe than to ruffle Mahony. "Remember me very +kindly to Mrs. Long, will you?" he said as the Archdeacon prepared to +climb into his buggy. "But tell her, too, I owe her a grudge just now. +My wife's so lost in flannel and brown holland that I can't get a word +out of her." + +"And mine doesn't know where she'd be, with this bazaar, if it weren't +for Mrs. Mahony." Long was husband to a dot of a woman who, having borne +him half a dozen children of his own feature and build, now worked as +parish clerk and district visitor rolled in one; driving about in +sunbonnet and gardening-gloves behind a pair of cream ponies--tiny, +sharp-featured, resolute; with little of her husband's large tolerance, +but an energy that outdid his own, and made her an object of both fear +and respect. "And that reminds me: over at the cross-roads by Spring +Hill, I met your young brother-in-law. And he told me, if I ran across +you to ask you to hurry home. Your wife has some surprise or other in +store for you. No, nothing unpleasant! Rather the reverse, I believe. +But I wasn't to say more. Well, good-day, doctor, good-day to you!" + +Mahony smiled, nodded and went on his way. Polly's surprises were +usually simple and transparent things: some one would have made them a +present of a sucking-pig or a bush-turkey, and Polly, knowing his relish +for a savoury morsel, did not wish it to be overdone: she had sent +similar chance calls out after him before now. + +When, having seen his horse rubbed down, he reached home, he found her +on the doorstep watching for him. She was flushed, and her eyes had +those peculiar high-lights in them which led him jokingly to exhort her +to caution: "Lest the sparks should set the house on fire!" + +"Well, what is it, Pussy?" he inquired as he laid his bag down and hung +up his wide-awake. "What's my little surprise-monger got up her sleeve +to-day? Good Lord, Polly, I'm tired!" + +Polly was smiling roguishly. "Aren't you going into the surgery, +Richard?" she asked, seeing him heading for the dining-room. + +"Aha! So that's it," said he, and obediently turned the handle. Polly +had on occasion taken advantage of his absence to introduce some new +comfort or decoration in his room. + +The blind had been let down. He was still blinking in the half-dark when +a figure sprang out from behind the door, barging heavily against him, +and a loud voice shouted: "Boh, you old beef-brains! Boh to a goose!" + +Displeased at such horseplay, Mahony stepped sharply back--his first +thought was of Ned having unexpectedly returned from Mount Ararat. Then +recognising the voice, he exclaimed incredulously: "YOU, Dickybird? +You!" + +"Dick, old man. . . . I say, Dick! Yes, it's me right enough, and not my +ghost. The old bad egg come back to roost!" + +The blind was raised; and the friends, who had last met in the dingy +bush hut on the night of the Stockade, stood face to face. And now +ensued a babel of greeting, a quick fire of question and answer, the two +voices going in and out and round each other, singly and together, like +the voices in a duet. Tears rose to Polly's eyes as she listened; it +made her heart glow to see Richard so glad. But when, forgetting her +presence, Purdy cried: "And I must confess, Dick. . . . I took a kiss +from Mrs. Polly. Gad, old man, how she's come on!" Polly hastily retired +to the kitchen. + +At table the same high spirits prevailed: it did not often happen that +Richard was brought out of his shell like this, thought Polly +gratefully, and heaped her visitor's plate to the brim. His first hunger +stilled, Purdy fell to giving a slapdash account of his experiences. He +kept to no orderly sequence, but threw them out just as they occurred to +him: a rub with bushrangers in the Black Forest, his adventures as a +long-distance drover in the Mildura, the trials of a week he had spent +in a boiling-down establishment on the Murray: "Where the stink wa so +foul, you two, that I vomited like a dog every day!" Under the force of +this Odyssey husband and wife gradually dropped into silence, which they +broke only by single words of astonishment and sympathy; while the child +Trotty spooned in her pudding without seeing it, her round, solemn eyes +fixed unblinkingly on this new uncle, who was like a wonderful +story-book come alive. + +In Mahony's feelings for Purdy at this moment, there was none of the old +intolerant superiority. He had been dependent for so long on a mere +surface acquaintance with his fellows, that he now felt to the full how +precious the tie was that bound him to Purdy. Here came one for whom he +was not alone the reserved, struggling practitioner, the rather moody +man advancing to middle-age; but also the Dick of his boyhood and early +youth. + +He had often imagined the satisfaction it would be to confide his +troubles to Purdy. Compared, however, with the hardships the latter had +undergone, these seemed of small importance; and dinner passed without +any allusion to his own affairs. And now the chances of his speaking out +were slight; he could have been entirely frank only under the first +stimulus of meeting. + +Even when they rose from the table Purdy continued to hold the stage. +For he had turned up with hardly a shirt to his back, and had to be +rigged out afresh from Mahony's wardrobe. It was decided that he should +remain their guest in the meantime; also that Mahony should call on his +behalf on the Commissioner of Police, and put in a good word for him. +For Purdy had come back with the idea of seeking a job in the Ballarat +Mounted Force. + +When Mahony could no longer put off starting on his afternoon round, +Purdy went with him to the livery-barn, limping briskly at his side. On +the way, he exclaimed aloud at the marvellous changes that had taken +place since he was last in the township. There were half a dozen gas-lamps +in Sturt Street by this time, the gas being distilled from a +mixture of oil and gum-leaves. + +"One wouldn't credit it if one didn't see it with one's own peepers!" he +cried, repeatedly bringing up short before the plate-glass windows of +the shops, the many handsome, verandahed hotels, the granite front of +Christ Church. "And from what I hear, Dick, now companies have jumped +the claims and are deep-sinking in earnest, fortunes'll be made like one +o'clock." + +But on getting home again, he sat down in front of Polly and said, with +a businesslike air: "And now tell me all about old Dick! You know, Poll, +he's such an odd fish; if he himself doesn't offer to uncork, somehow +one can't just pump him. And I want to know everything that concerns him +--from A to Z." + +Polly could not hold out against this affectionate curiosity. +Entrenching her needle in its stuff, she put her work away and complied. +And soon to her own satisfaction. For the first time in her married life +she was led to discuss her husband's ways and actions with another; and, +to her amazement, she found that it was easier to talk to Purdy about +Richard than to Richard himself. Purdy and she saw things in the same +light; no rigmarole of explanation was necessary. Now with Richard, it +was not so. In conversation with him, one constantly felt that he was +not speaking out, or, to put it more plainly, that he was going on +meanwhile with his own, very different thoughts. And behind what he did +say, there was sure to lurk some imaginary scruple, some rather +far-fetched delicacy of feeling which it was hard to get at, and harder +still to understand. + + + + +Chapter VII + +Summer had come round again, and the motionless white heat of December +lay heavy on the place. The low little houses seemed to cower beneath +it; and the smoke from their chimneys drew black, perpendicular lines on +the pale sky. If it was a misery at this season to traverse the blazing, +dusty roads, it was almost worse to be within doors, where the thin +wooden walls were powerless to keep out the heat, and flies and +mosquitoes raged in chorus. Nevertheless, determined Christmas +preparations went on in dozens of tiny, zinc-roofed kitchens, the +temperature of which was not much below that of the ovens themselves; +and kindly, well-to-do people like Mrs. Glendinning and Mrs. Urquhart +drove in in hooded buggies, with green fly-veils dangling from their +broad-brimmed hats, and dropped a goose here, a turkey there, on their +less prosperous friends. They robbed their gardens, too, of the summer's +last flowers, arum-lilies and brilliant geraniums, to decorate the +Archdeacon's church for the festival; and many ladies spent the whole +day beforehand making wreaths and crosses, and festoons to encircle the +lamps. + +No one was busier than Polly. She wanted to give Purdy, who had been on +short commons for so long, a special Christmas treat. She had willing +helpers in him and Jerry: the two of them chopped and stoned and +stirred, while she, seated on the block of the woodstack, her head tied +up in an old pillow-case, plucked and singed the goose that had fallen +to her share. Towards four o'clock on Christmas Day they drew their +chairs to the table, and with loosened collars set about enjoying the +good things. Or pretending to enjoy them. This was Mahony's case; for +the day was no holiday for him, and his head ached from the sun. At +tea-time Hempel arrived to pay a call, looking very spruce in a long black +coat and white tie; and close on his heels followed old Mr. Ocock. The +latter, having deposited his hat under his seat and tapped several +pockets, produced a letter, which he unfolded and handed to Polly with a +broad grin. It was from his daughter, and contained the news of his +wife's death. "Died o' the grumbles, I lay you! An' the first good turn +she ever done me." The main point was that Miss Amelia, now at liberty, +was already taking advice about the safest line of clipper-ships, and +asking for a reply BY RETURN to a number of extraordinary questions. +Could one depend on hearing God's Word preached of a Sunday? Was it +customary for FEMALES to go armed as well as men? Were the blacks +CONVERTED, and what amount of clothing did they wear? + +"Thinks she's comin' to the back o' beyond, does Mely!" chuckled the old +man, and slapped his thigh at the sudden idea that occurred to him of +"takin' a rise out of 'er." "Won't she stare when she gits 'ere, that's +all!" + +"Well, now you'll simply HAVE to build," said Polly, after threatening +to write privately to Miss Amelia, to reassure her. Why not move over +west, and take up a piece of ground in the same road as themselves? But +from this he excused himself, with a laugh and a spit, on the score that +no land-sales had yet been held in their neighbourhood: when he DID turn +out of his present four walls, which had always been plenty good enough +for him, he wanted a place he could "fit up tidy"; which it 'ud stick in +his throat to do so, if he thought it might any day be sold over his +head. Mahony winced at this. Then laughed, with an exaggerated +carelessness. If, in a country like this, you waited for all to be fixed +and sure, you would wait till Domesday. None the less, the thrust +rankled. It was a fact that he himself had not spent a sou on his +premises since they finished building. The thought at the back of HIS +mind, too, was, why waste his hard-earned income on improvements that +might benefit only the next-comer? The yard they sat in, for instance! +Polly had her hens and a ramshackle hen-house; but not a spadeful of +earth had been turned towards the wished-for garden. It was just the +ordinary colonial backyard, fenced round with rude palings which did not +match, and were mended here and there with bits of hoop-iron; its ground +space littered with a medley of articles for which there was no room +elsewhere: boards left lying by the builders, empty kerosene-tins, a +couple of tubs, a ragged cane-chair, some old cases. Wash-lines, on +which at the moment a row of stockings hung, stretched permanently from +corner to corner; and the whole was dominated by the big round +galvanised-iron tank. + +On Boxing Day Purdy got the loan of a lorry and drove a large party, +including several children, comfortably placed on straw, hassocks and +low chairs, to the Races a few miles out. Half Ballarat was making in +the same direction; and whoever owned a horse that was sound in the wind +and anything of a stepper had entered it for some item on the programme. +The Grand Stand, a bark shed open to the air on three sides, was +resorted to only in the case of a sudden downpour; the occupants of the +dust-laden buggies, wagonettes, brakes, carts and drays preferred to +follow events standing on their seats, and on the boards that served +them as seats. After the meeting, those who belonged to the +Urquhart-Glendinning set went on to Yarangobilly, and danced till long +pastmidnight on the broad verandah. It was nearly three o'clock before +Purdy brought his load safely home. Under the round white moon, the lorry +was strewn with the forms of sleeping children. + +Early next morning while Polly, still only half awake, was pouring out +coffee and giving Richard who, poor fellow, could not afford to leave +his patients, an account of their doings--with certain omissions, of +course: she did not mention the glaring indiscretion Agnes Glendinning +had been guilty of, in disappearing with Mr. Henry Ocock into a dark +shrubbery--while Polly talked, the postman handed in two letters, which +were of a nature to put balls and races clean out of her head. The first +was in Mrs. Beamish's ill-formed hand, and told a sorrowful tale. Custom +had entirely gone: a new hotel had been erected on the new road; Beamish +was forced to declare himself a bankrupt; and in a few days the Family +Hotel, with all its contents, would be put up at public auction. What +was to become of them, God alone knew. She supposed she would end her +days in taking in washing, and the girls must go out as servants. But +she was sure Polly, now so up in the world, with a husband doing so +well, would not forget the old friends who had once been so kind to her +--with much more in the same strain, which Polly skipped, in reading the +letter aloud. The long and short of it was: would Polly ask her husband +to lend them a couple of hundred pounds to make a fresh start with, or +failing that to put his name to a bill for the same amount? + +"Of course she hasn't an idea we were obliged to borrow money +ourselves," said Polly in response to Mahony's ironic laugh. "I couldn't +tell them that." + +"No . . . nor that it's a perpetual struggle to keep the wolf from the +door," answered her husband, battering in the top of an egg with the +back of his spoon. + +"Oh, Richard dear, things aren't quite so bad as that," said Polly +cheerfully. Then she heaved a sigh. "I know, of course, we can't afford +to help them; but I DO feel so sorry for them"--she herself would have +given the dress off her back. "And I think, dear, if you didn't mind +VERY much, we might ask one of the girls up to stay with us . . . till +the worst is over." + +"Yes, I suppose that wouldn't be impossible," said Mahony. "If you've +set your heart on it, my Polly. If, too, you can persuade Master Purdy +to forgo the comfort of your good feather-bed. And I'll see if I can +wring out a fiver for you to enclose in your letter." + +Polly jumped up and kissed him. "Purdy is going anyhow. He said only +last night he must look for lodgings near the Police Station." Here a +thought struck her; she coloured and smiled. "I'll ask Tilly first," +said she. + +Mahony laughed and shook his finger at her. "The best laid plans o' mice +and men! And what's one to say to a match-maker who is still growing out +of her clothes?" + +At this Polly clapped a hand over his mouth, for fear Ellen should hear +him. It was a sore point with her that she had more than once of late +had to lengthen her dresses. + +As soon as she was alone she sat down to compose a reply to Mrs. +Beamish. It was no easy job: she was obliged to say that Richard felt +unable to come to their aid; and, at the same time, to avoid touching on +his private affairs; had to disappoint as kindly as she could; to be +truthful, yet tactful. Polly wrote, and re-wrote: the business cost her +the forenoon. + +She could not even press Tilly to pack her box and come at once; for her +second letter that morning had been from Sara, who wrote that, having +decided to shake the dust of the colony off her feet, she wished to pay +them a flying visit before sailing, "POUR FAIRE MES ADIEUX." She signed +herself "Your affectionate sister Zara," and on her arrival explained +that, tired of continually instructing people in the pronunciation of +her name, she had decided to alter the spelling and be done with it. +Moreover, a little bird had whispered in her ear that, under its new +form, it fitted her rather "FRENCH" air and looks a thousand times +better than before. + +Descending from the coach, Zara eyed Polly up and down and vowed she +would never have known her; and, on the way home, Polly more than once +felt her sister's gaze fixed critically on her. For her part, she was +able to assure Zara that she saw no change whatever in her, since her +last visit--even since the date of the wedding. And this pleased Zara +mightily; for as she admitted, in removing hat and mantle, and passing +the damped corner of a towel over her face, she dreaded the ageing +effects of the climate on her fine complexion. Close as ever about her +own concerns, she gave no reason for her abrupt determination to leave +the country; but from subsequent talk Polly gathered that, for one +thing, Zara had found her position at the head of John's establishment-- +"Undertaken in the first place, my dear, at immense personal sacrifice!" +--no sinecure. John had proved a regular martinet; he had countermanded +her orders, interfered about the household bills--had even accused her +of lining her own pocket. As for little Johnny--the bait originally +thrown out to induce her to accept the post--he had long since been +sent to boarding-school. "A thoroughly bad, unprincipled boy!" was +Zara's verdict. And when Polly, big with pity, expostulated: "But Zara, +he is only six years old!" her sister retorted with a: "My dear, I know +the world, and you don't," to which Polly could think of no reply. + +Zara had announced herself for a bare fortnight's stay; but the man who +carried her trunk groaned and sweated under it, and was so insolent +about the size of the coin she dropped in his palm that Polly followed +him by stealth into the passage, to make it up to a crown. As usual Zara +was attired in the height of fashion. She brought a set of "the hoops" +with her--the first to be seen on Ballarat--and once more Polly was +torn between an honest admiration of her sister's daring, and an equally +honest embarrassment at the notice she attracted. Zara swam and glided +about the streets, to the hilarious amazement of the population; floated +feather-light, billowing here, depressing there, with all the +waywardness of a child's balloon; supported--or so it seemed--by two +of the tiniest feet ever bestowed on mortal woman. Aha! but that was one +of the chief merits of "the hoops," declared Zara; that, and the +possibility of getting still more stuff into your skirts without +materially increasing their weight. There was something in that, +conceded Polly, who often felt hers drag heavy. Besides, as she reminded +Richard that night, when he lay alternately chuckling and snorting at +woman's folly, custom was everything. Once they had smiled at Zara +appearing in a hat: "And now we're all wearing them." + +Another practical consideration that occurred to her she expressed with +some diffidence. "But Zara, don't you . . . I mean . . . aren't they +very draughty?" + +Zara had to repeat her shocked but emphatic denial in the presence of +Mrs. Glendinning and Mrs. Urquhart, both ladies having a mind to bring +their wardrobes up to date. They agreed that there was much to be said +in favour of the appliance, over and above its novelty. Especially would +it be welcome at those times when. . . But here the speakers dropped +into woman's mysterious code of nods and signs; while Zara, turning +modestly away, pretended to count the stitches in a crochet-antimacassar. + +Yes, nowadays, as Mrs. Dr. Mahony, Polly was able to introduce her +sister to a society worthy of Zara's gifts; and Zara enjoyed herself so +well that, had her berth not been booked, she might have contemplated +extending her visit. She overflowed with gracious commendation. The +house--though, of course, compared with John's splendour, a trifle +plain and poky--was a decided advance on the store; Polly herself much +improved: "You DO look robust, my dear!" And--though Zara held her +peace about this--the fact of Mahony's being from home each day, for +hours at a stretch, lent an additional prop to her satisfaction. Under +these conditions it was possible to keep on good terms with her +brother-in-law. + +Zara's natty appearance and sprightly ways made her a favourite with +every one especially the gentlemen. The episcopal bazaar came off at +this time; and Zara had the brilliant idea of a bran-pie. This was the +success of the entertainment. From behind the refreshment-stall where, +with Mrs. Long, she was pouring out cups of tea and serving cheesecakes +and sausage-rolls by the hundred, Polly looked proudly across the +beflagged hall, to the merry group of which her sister was the centre. +Zara was holding her own, even with Mr. Henry Ocock; and Mr. Urquhart +had constituted himself her right hand. + +"Your sister is no doubt a most fascinating woman," said Mrs. Urquhart +from the seat with which she had been accommodated; and heaved a gentle +sigh. "How odd that she should never have married!" + +"I'm afraid Zara's too particular," said Polly. "It's not for want of +being asked." + +Her eyes met Purdy's as she spoke--Purdy had come up laden with empty +cups, a pair of infants' boots dangling round his neck--and they +exchanged smiles; for Zara's latest AFFAIRE DU COEUR was a source of +great amusement to them. + +Polly had assisted at the first meeting between her sister and Purdy +with very mixed feelings. On that occasion Purdy happened to be in plain +clothes, and Zara pronounced him charming. The next day, however, he +dropped in clad in the double-breasted blue jacket, the high boots and +green-veiled cabbage-tree he wore when on duty; and thereupon Zara's +opinion of him sank to null, and was not to be raised even by him +presenting himself in full dress: white-braided trousers, red faced +shell jacket, pill-box cap, cartouche box and cavalry sword. "La, Polly! +Nothing but a common policeman!" In vain did Polly explain the +difference between a member of the ordinary force and a mounted trooper +of the gold-escort; in vain lay stress on Richard's pleasure at seeing +Purdy buckle to steady work, no matter what. Zara's thoughts had taken +wing for a land where such anomalies were not; where you were not asked +to drink tea with the well-meaning constable who led you across a +crowded thoroughfare or turned on his bull's eye for you in a fog, +preparatory to calling up a hackney-cab. + +But the chilly condescension with which, from now on, Zara treated him +did not seem to trouble Purdy. When he ran in for five minutes of a +morning, he eschewed the front entrance and took up his perch on the +kitchen-table. From here, while Polly cooked and he nibbled half-baked +pastry, the two of them followed the progress of events in the parlour. + +Zara's arrival on Ballarat had been the cue for Hempel's reappearance, +and now hardly a day went by on which the lay-helper did not neglect his +chapel work, in order to pay what Zara called his "DEVOIRS." Slight were +his pretexts for coming: a rare bit of dried seaweed for bookmark; a +religious journal with a turned-down page; a nosegay. And though Zara +would not nowadays go the length of walking out with a dissenter--she +preferred on her airings to occupy the box-seat of Mr. Urquhart's +four-in-hand--she had no objection to Hempel keeping her company during +the empty hours of the forenoon when Polly was lost in domestic cares. She +accepted his offerings, mimicked his faulty speech, and was continually +hauling him up the precipice of self-distrust, only to let him slip back +as soon as he reached the top. + +One day Purdy entered the kitchen doubled up with laughter. In passing +the front of the house he had thrown a look in at the parlour-window; +and the sight of the prim and proper Hempel on his knees on the woolly +hearthrug so tickled his sense of humour that, having spluttered out the +news, back he went to the passage, where he crouched down before the +parlour-door and glued his eye to the keyhole. + +"Oh, Purdy, no! What if the door should suddenly fly open?" + +But there was something in Purdy's pranks that a laughter-lover like +Polly could never for long withstand. Here, now, in feigning to imitate +the unfortunate Hempel, he was sheerly irresistible. He clapped his +hands to his heart, showed the whites of his eyes, wept, gesticulated +and tore his hair; and Polly, after trying in vain to keep a straight +face, sat down and went off into a fit of stifled mirth--and when Polly +did give way, she was apt to set every one round her laughing, too. +Ellen's shoulders shook; she held a fist to her mouth. Even little +Trotty shrilled out her tinny treble, without knowing in the least what +the joke was. + +When the merriment was at its height, the front door opened and in +walked Mahony. An instant's blank amazement, and he had grasped the +whole situation--Richard was always so fearfully quick at +understanding, thought Polly ruefully. Then, though Purdy jumped to his +feet and the laughter died out as if by command, he drew his brows +together, and without saying a word, stalked into the surgery and shut +the door. + +Like a schoolboy who has been caned, Purdy dug his knuckles into his +eyes and rubbed his hindquarters--to the fresh delight of Trotty and +the girl. + +"Well, so long, Polly! I'd better be making tracks. The old man's on the +warpath." And in an undertone: "Same old grouser! Never COULD take a +joke." + +"He's tired. I'll make it all right," gave Polly back. + +--"It was only his fun, Richard," she pleaded, as she held out a linen +jacket for her husband to slip his arms into. + +"Fun of a kind I won't permit in my house. What an example to set the +child! What's more, I shall let Hempel know that he is being made a butt +of. And speak my mind to your sister about her heartless behaviour." + +"Oh, don't do that, Richard. I promise it shan't happen again. It was +very stupid of us, I know. But Purdy didn't really mean it unkindly; and +he IS so comical when he starts to imitate people." And Polly was all +but off again, at the remembrance. + +But Mahony, stooping to decipher the names Ellen had written on the +slate, did not unbend. It was not merely the vulgar joke that had +offended him. No, what really rankled was the sudden chill his +unlooked-for entrance had cast over the group; they had scattered and gone +scurrying about their business, like a pack of naughty children who had +been up to mischief behind their master's back. He was the schoolmaster +--the spoilsport. They were all afraid of him. Even Polly. + +But here came Polly herself to say: "Dinner, dear," in her kindest tone. +She also put her arm round his neck and hugged him. "Not cross any more, +Richard? I know we behaved disgracefully." Her touch put the crown on +her words. Mahony drew her to him and kissed her. + +But the true origin of the unpleasantness, Zara, who in her ghoulish +delight at seeing Hempel grovel before her--thus Mahony worded it-- +behaved more kittenishly than ever at table: Zara Mahony could not so +easily forgive; and for the remainder of her stay his manner to her was +so forbidding that she, too, froze; and to Polly's regret the old bad +relation between them came up anew. + +But Zara was enjoying herself too well to cut her visit short on +Mahony's account. "Besides, poor thing," thought Polly, "she has really +nowhere to go." What she did do was to carry her head very high in her +brother-in-law's presence; to speak at him rather than to him; and in +private to insist to Polly on her powers of discernment. "You may say +what you like, my dear--I can see you have a VERY GREAT DEAL to put up +with!" + +At last, however, the day of her departure broke, and she went off amid +a babble of farewells, of requests for remembrance, a fluttering of +pocket-handkerchiefs, the like of which Polly had never known; and to +himself Mahony breathed the hope that they had seen the last of Zara, +her fripperies and affectations. "Your sister will certainly fit better +into the conditions of English life." + +Polly cried at the parting, which might be final; then blew her nose and +dried her eyes; for she had a busy day before her. Tilly Beamish had +been waiting with ill-concealed impatience for Zara to vacate the spare +room, and was to arrive that night. + +Mahony was not at home to welcome the new-comer, nor could he be present +at high tea. When he returned, towards nine o'clock, he found Polly with +a very red face, and so full of fussy cares for her guest's comfort-- +her natural kindliness distorted to caricature--that she had not a word +for him. One look at Miss Tilly explained everything, and his respects +duly paid he retired to the surgery, to indulge a smile at Polly's +expense. Here Polly soon joined him, Tilly, fatigued by her journey and +by her bounteous meal, having betaken herself early to bed. + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Mahony, not without a certain mischievous satisfaction +at his young wife's discomfiture. "And with the prospect of a second +edition to follow!" + +But Polly would not capitulate right off. "I don't think it's very kind +of you to talk like that, Richard," she said warmly. "People can't help +their looks." She moved about the room putting things straight, and +avoiding his eye. "As long as they mean well and are good. . . . But I +think you would rather no one ever came to stay with us, at all." + +Fixing her with meaning insistence and still smiling, Mahony opened his +arms. The next moment Polly was on his knee, her face hidden in his +shoulder. There she shed a few tears. "Oh, isn't she dreadful? I don't +know WHAT I shall do with her. She's been serving behind the bar, +Richard, for more than a year. And she's come expecting to be taken +everywhere and to have any amount of gaiety." + +At coach-time she had dragged a reluctant Purdy to the office. But as +soon as he caught sight of Tilly: "On the box, Richard, beside the +driver, with her hair all towsy-wowsy in the wind--he just said: 'Oh, +lor, Polly!' and disappeared, and that was the last I saw of him. I +don't know how I should have got on if it hadn't been for old Mr. Ocock, +who was down meeting a parcel. He was most kind; he helped us home with +her carpet-bag, and saw after her trunk. And, oh dear, what do you +think? When he was going away he said to me in the passage--so loud I'm +sure Tilly must have heard him--he said: 'Well! that's something like a +figure of a female this time, Mrs. Doc. As fine a young woman as ever I +see!'" + +And Polly hid her face again; and husband and wife laughed in concert. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +That night a great storm rose. Mahony, sitting reading after everyone +else had retired, saw it coming, and lamp in hand went round the house +to secure hasps and catches; then stood at the window to watch the +storm's approach. In one half of the sky the stars were still peacefully +alight; the other was hidden by a dense cloud, which came racing along +like a giant bat with outspread wings, devouring the stars in its +flight. The storm broke; there was a sudden shrill screeching, a +grinding, piping, whistling, and the wind hurled itself against the +house as if to level it with the ground; failing in this, it banged and +battered, making windows and doors shake like loose teeth in their +sockets. Then it swept by to wreak its fury elsewhere, and there was a +grateful lull out of which burst a peal of thunder. And now peal +followed peal, and the face of the sky, with its masses of swirling, +frothy cloud, resembled an angry sea. The lightning ripped it in fierce +zigzags, darting out hundreds of spectral fangs. It was a magnificent +sight. + +Polly came running to see where he was, the child cried, Miss Tilly +opened her door by a hand's-breadth, and thrust a red, puffy face, +framed in curl-twists, through the crack. Nobody thought of sleep while +the commotion lasted, for fear of fire: once alight, these exposed +little wooden houses blazed up like heaps of shavings. The clock-hands +pointed to one before the storm showed signs of abating. Now, the rain +was pouring down, making an ear-splitting din on the iron roof and +leaping from every gutter and spout. It had turned very cold. Mahony +shivered as he got into bed. + +He seemed hardly to have closed an eye when he was wakened by a loud +knocking; at the same time the wire of the night-bell was almost +wrenched in two. He sat up and looked at his watch. It wanted a few +minutes to three; the rain was still falling in torrents, the wind +sighed and moaned. Wild horses should not drag him out on such a night! +Thrusting his arms into the sleeves of his dressing-gown, he threw up +the parlour window. "Who's there?" The hiss of the rain cut his words +through. + +A figure on the doorstep turned at the sound. "Is this a doctor's? I wuz +sent here. Doctor! for God's sake . . ." + +"What is it? Stop a minute! I'll open the door." + +He did so, letting in a blast of wind and a rush of rain that flooded +the oilcloth. The intruder, off whom the water streamed, had to shout to +make himself audible. + +"It's me--Mat Doyle's me name! It's me wife, doctor; she's dying. I've +bin all night on the road. Ah, for the love of--" + +"Where is it?" Mahony put his hand to the side of his mouth, to keep his +words from flying adrift in the wind. + +"Paddy's Rest. You're the third I've bin to. Not one of the dirty +dogs'ull stir a leg! Me girl may die like a rabbit for all they care."-- +The man's voice broke, as he halloed particulars. + +"Paddy's Rest? On a night like this? Why, the creek will be out." + +"Doctor! you're from th' ould country, I can hear it in your lip. +Haven't you a wife, too, doctor? Then show a bit o' mercy to mine!" + +"Tut, tut, man, none of that!" said Mahony curtly. "You should have +bespoken me at the proper time to attend your wife.--Besides, there'll +be no getting along the road to-night." + +The other caught the note of yielding. "Sure an' you'd go out, doctor +dear, without thinkin', to save your dog if he was drownin'. I've got me +buggy down there; I'll take you safe. And you shan't regret it; I'll +make it worth your while, by the Lord Harry I will!" + +"Pshaw!"--Mahony opened the door of the surgery and struck a match. It +was a rough grizzled fellow--a "cocky," on his own showing--who +presented himself in the lamplight. His wife had fallen ill that +afternoon. At first everything seemed to be going well; then she was +seized with fits, had one fit after another, and all but bit her tongue +in two. There was nobody with her but a young girl he had fetched from a +mile away. He had meant, when her time came, to bring her to the +District Hospital. But they had been taken unawares. While he waited he +sat with his elbows on his knees, his face between his clenched fists. + +In dressing, Mahony reassured Polly, and instructed her what to say to +people who came inquiring after him; it was unlikely he would be back +before afternoon. Most of the patients could wait till then. The one +exception, a case of typhoid in its second week, a young Scotch surgeon, +Brace, whom he had obliged in a similar emergency, would no doubt see +for him--she should send Ellen down with a note. And having poured +Doyle out a nobbler and put a flask in his own pocket, Mahony reopened +the front door to the howl of the wind. + +The lantern his guide carried shed only a tiny circlet of light on the +blackness; and the two men picked their steps gingerly along the flooded +road. The rain ran in jets off the brim of Mahony's hat, and down the +back of his neck. + +Having climbed into the buggy they advanced at a funeral pace, leaving +it to the sagacity of the horse to keep the track. At the creek, sure +enough, the water was out, the bridge gone. To reach the next bridge, +five miles off, a crazy cross-country drive would have been necessary; +and Mahony was for giving up the job. But Doyle would not acknowledge +defeat. He unharnessed the horse, set Mahony on its back, and himself +holding to its tail, forced the beast, by dint of kicking and lashing, +into the water; and not only got them safely across, but up the steep +sticky clay of the opposite bank. It was six o'clock and a cloudless +morning when, numb with cold, his clothing clinging to him like wet +seaweed, Mahony entered the wooden hut where the real work he had come +out to do began. + +Later in the day, clad in an odd collection of baggy garments, he sat +and warmed himself in the sun, which was fast drawing up in the form of +a blankety mist the moisture from the ground. He had successfully +performed, under the worst possible conditions, a ticklish operation; +and was now so tired that, with his chin on his chest, he fell fast +asleep. + +Doyle wakened him by announcing the arrival of the buggy. The good man, +who had more than one nobbler during the morning could not hold his +tongue, but made still another wordy attempt to express his gratitude. +"Whither me girl lives or dies, it'll not be Mat Doyle who forgits what +you did for him this night, doctor! An' if iver you want a bit o' work +done, or some one to do your lyin' awake at night for you, just you +gimme the tip. I don't mind tellin' you now, I'd me shootin'-iron here" +--he touched his right hip--"an' if you'd refused--you was the third, +mind you,--I'd have drilled you where you stood, God damn me if I +wouldn't!" + +Mahony eyed the speaker with derision. "Much good that would have done +your wife, you fathead! Well, well, we'll say nothing to MINE, if you +please, about anything of that sort." + +"No, may all the saints bless 'er and give 'er health! An' as I say, +doctor. . . ." In speaking he had drawn a roll of bank-notes from his +pocket, and now he tried to stuff them between Mahony's fingers. + +"What's this? My good man, keep your money till it's asked for!" and +Mahony unclasped his hands, so that the notes fluttered to the ground. + +"Then there let 'em lay!" + +But when, in clothes dried stiff as cardboard, Mahony was rolling +townwards--his coachman, a lad of some ten or twelve who handled the +reins to the manner born--as they went he chanced to feel in his coat +pocket, and there found five ten-pound notes rolled up in a neat bundle. + +The main part of the road was dry and hard again; but all dips and holes +were wells of liquid mud, which bespattered the two of them from top to +toe as the buggy bumped carelessly in and out. Mahony diverted himself +by thinking of what he could give Polly with this sum. It would serve to +buy that pair of gilt cornices or the heavy gilt-framed pierglass on +which she had set her heart. He could see her, pink with pleasure, +expostulating: "Richard! What WICKED extravagance!" and hear himself +reply: "And pray may my wife not have as pretty a parlour as her +neighbours?" He even cast a thought, in passing, on the pianoforte with +which Polly longed to crown the furnishings of her room--though, of +course, at least treble this amount would be needed to cover its cost.-- +But a fig for such nonsense! He knew but one legitimate use to make of +the unexpected little windfall, and that was, to put it by for a rainy +day. "At my age, in my position, I OUGHT to have fifty pounds in the +bank!"--times without number he had said this to himself, with a +growing impatience. But he had not yet managed to save a halfpenny. +Thrive as the practice might, the expenses of living held even pace with +it. And now, having got its cue, his brain started off again on the old +treadmill, reckoning, totting up, finding totals, or more often failing +to find them, till his head was as hot as his feet were cold. To-day he +could not think clearly at all. + +Nor the next day either. By the time he reached home he was conscious of +feeling very ill: he had lancinating pains in his limbs, a chill down +his spine, an outrageous temperature. To set out again on a round of +visits was impossible. He had just to tumble into bed. + +He got between the sheets with that sense of utter well-being, of almost +sensual satisfaction, which only one who is shivering with fever knows. +And at first very small things were enough to fill him with content: the +smoothness of the pillow's sleek linen; the shadowy light of the room +after long days spent in the dusty glare outside; the possibility of +resting, the knowledge that it was his duty to rest; Polly's soft, firm +hands, which were always of the right temperature--warm in the cold +stage, cool when the fever scorched him, and neither hot nor cold when +the dripping sweats came on. But as the fever declined, these slight +pleasures lost their hold. Then he was ridden to death by black +thoughts. Not only was day being added to day, he meanwhile not turning +over a penny; but ideas which he knew to be preposterous insinuated +themselves in his brain. Thus, for hours on end he writhed under the +belief that his present illness was due solely to the proximity of the +Great Swamp, and lay and cursed his folly in having chosen just this +neighbourhood to build in. Again, there was the case of typhoid he had +been anxious about, prior to his own breakdown: under his LOCUM, +peritonitis had set in and carried off the patient. At the time he had +accepted the news from Polly's lips with indifference--too ill to care. +But a little later the knowledge of what it meant broke over him, and he +suffered the tortures of the damned. Not Brace; he alone would be held +responsible for the death; and perhaps not altogether unjustly. Lying +there, a prey to morbid apprehensions, he rebuilt the case in memory, +struggling to recall each slight variation in temperature, each swift +change for better or worse; but as fast as he captured one such detail, +his drowsy brain let the last but one go, and he had to beat it up anew. +During the night he grew confident that the relatives of the dead woman +intended to take action against him, for negligence or improper +attendance. + +An attempt to speak of these devilish imaginings to wife and friend was +a failure. He undertook it in a fit of desperation, when it seemed as if +only a strong and well grounded opposition would save his reason. But +this was just what he could not get. Purdy, whom he tried first, held +the crude notion that a sick person should never be gainsaid; and +soothingly sympathised and agreed, till Mahony could have cried aloud at +such blundering stupidity. Polly did better; she contradicted him. But +not in the right way. She certainly pooh-poohed his idea of the nearness +of Yuille's Swamp making the house unhealthy; but she did not argue the +matter, step by step, and CONVINCE him that he was wrong. She just +laughed at him as at a foolish child, and kissed him, and tucked him in +anew. And when it came to the typhoid's fatal issue, she had not the +knowledge needed to combat him with any chance of success. She heard him +anxiously out, and allowed herself to be made quite nervous over a +possible fault on his part, so jealous was she for his growing +reputation. + +So that in the end it was he who had to comfort her. + +"Don't take any notice of what I say to-day, wife. It's this blessed +fever. . . . I'm light-headed, I think." + +But he could hear her uneasily consulting with Purdy in the passage. + +It was not till his pulse beat normally again that he could smile at his +exaggerated fears. Now, too, reviving health brought back a wholesome +interest in everyday affairs. He listened with amusement to Polly's +account of the shifts Purdy was reduced to, to enter the house unseen by +Miss Tilly. On his faithful daily call, the young man would creep round +by the back door, and Tilly was growing more and more irate at her +inability to waylay him. Yes, Polly was rather redly forced to admit, +she HAD abetted him in his evasions. ("You know, Poll, I might just as +well tie myself up to old Mother B. herself and be done with it!") Out +of sheer pique Tilly had twice now accepted old Mr. Ocock's invitation +to drive with him. Once, she had returned with a huge bag of lollies; +and once, with a face like a turkey-cock. Polly couldn't help +thinking . . . no, really, Richard, she could not! . . . that perhaps +something might COME of it. He should not laugh; just wait and see. + +Many inquiries had been made after him. People had missed their doctor, +it seemed, and wanted him back. It was a real red-letter day when he +could snap to the catches of his gloves again, and mount the step of a +buggy. + +He had instructed Purdy to arrange for the hire of this vehicle, +saddle-work being out of the question for him in the meantime. And on his +first long journey--it led him past Doyle's hut, now, he was sorry to see, +in the hands of strangers; for the wife, on the way to making a fair +recovery, had got up too soon, overtaxed her strength and died, and the +broken-hearted husband was gone off no one knew where--on this drive, +as mile after mile slid from under the wheels, Mahony felt how grateful +was the screen of a hood between him and the sun. + +While he was laid up, the eternal question of how to live on his income +had left him, relatively speaking, in peace. He had of late adopted the +habit of doing his scraping and saving at the outset of each quarter, so +as to get the money due to Ocock put by betimes. His illness had +naturally made a hole in this; and now the living from hand to mouth +must begin anew. + +With what remained of Doyle's money he proposed to settle his account at +the livery-stable. Then the unexpected happened. His reappearance--he +looked very thin and washed-out--evidently jogged a couple of sleepy +memories. Simultaneously two big bills were paid, one of which he had +entirely given up. In consequence, he again found himself fifty pounds +to the good. And driving to Ocock's office, on term day, he resolved to +go on afterwards to the Bank of Australasia and there deposit this sum. + +Grindle, set off by a pair of flaming "sideboards," himself ushered +Mahony into the sanctum, and the affair was disposed of in a trice. +Ocock was one of the busiest of men nowadays--he no longer needed to +invent sham clients and fictitious interviews--and he utilised the few +odd minutes it took to procure a signature, jot down a note, open a +drawer, unlock a tin box to remark abstractedly on the weather and put a +polite inquiry: "And your good lady? In the best of health, I trust?" + +On emerging from the inner room, Mahony saw that the places formerly +filled by Tom and Johnny were occupied by strangers; and he was +wondering whether it would be indiscreet to ask what had become of the +brothers, when Ocock cut across his intention. "By the way, Jenkins, has +that memorandum I spoke of been drawn up?" he turned to a clerk. + +With a sheet of foolscap in his hand, he invited Mahony with a beck of +the chin to re-enter his room. "Half a moment! Now, doctor, if you +happen to have a little money lying idle, I can put you on to a good +thing--a very good thing indeed. I don't know, I'm sure, whether you +keep an eye on the fluctuations of the share-market. If so, you'll no +doubt have noticed the . . . let me say the extreme instability of +'Porepunkahs.' After making an excellent start, they have dropped till +they are now to be had at one-twentieth of their original value." + +He did not take much interest in mining matters was Mahony's reply. +However he knew something of the claim in question, if only because +several of his acquaintances had abandoned their shares, in disgust at +the repeated calls and the lack of dividends. + +"Exactly. Well now, doctor, I'm in a position to inform you that +'Porepunkahs' will very shortly be prime favourites on the market, +selling at many times their original figure--their ORIGINAL figure, +sir! No one with a few hundreds to spare could find a better investment. +Now is the time to buy." + +A few hundreds! . . . what does he take me for? thought Mahony; and +declined the transaction off-hand. It was very good of Mr. Ocock to +think of him; but he preferred to keep clear of that kind of thing. + +"Quite so, quite so!" returned Ocock suavely, and dry-washed his hands +with the smile Mahony had never learnt to fathom. "Just as you please, +of course.--I'll only ask you, doctor, to treat the matter as strictly +confidential." + +"I suppose he says the same to everyone he tells," was Mahony's comment +as he flicked up his horse; and he wondered what the extent might be of +the lawyer's personal interest in the "Porepunkah Company." Probably the +number of shareholders was not large enough to rake up the capital. + +Still, the incident gave him food for thought, and only after closing +time did he remember his intention of driving home by way of the Bank. + +Later in the day he came back on the incident, and pondered his abrupt +refusal of Ocock's offer. There was nothing unusual in this: he never +took advice well; and, was it forced upon him, nine times out of ten a +certain inborn contrariness drove him to do just the opposite. Besides, +he had not yet learned to look with lenience on the rage for speculation +that had seized the people of Ballarat; and he held that it would be +culpable for a man of his slender means to risk money in the great game. +--But was there any hint of risk in the present instance? To judge from +Ocock's manner, the investment was as safe as a house, and lucrative to +a degree that made one's head swim. "Many times their original figure!" +An Arabian-nights fashion of growing rich, and no mistake! Very +different from the laborious grind of HIS days, in which he had always +to reckon with the chance of not being paid at all. That very afternoon +had brought him a fresh example of this. He was returning from the Old +Magpie Lead, where he had been called to a case of scarlet fever, and +saw himself covering the same road daily for some time to come. But he +had learned to adjudge his patients in a winking; and these, he could +swear to it, would prove to be non-payers; of a kind even to cut and +run, once the child was out of danger. Was he really justified, cramped +for money as he was, in rejecting the straight tip Ocock had given him? +And he debated this moot point--argued his need against his principles +--the whole way home. + +As soon as he had changed and seen his suspect clothing hung out to air, +he went impetuously back to Ocock's office. He had altered his mind. A +small gift from a grateful patient: yes, fifty, please; they might bring +him luck.--And he saw his name written down as the owner of half a +hundred shares. + +After this, he took a new interest in the mining sheet of the STAR; +turned to it, indeed, first of all. For a week, a fortnight, +"Porepunkahs" remained stationary; then they made a call, and, if he did +not wish to forfeit, he had to pay out as many shillings as he held +shares. A day or two later they sank a trifle, and Mahony's hopes with +them. There even came a day when they were not mentioned; and he gave up +his money for lost. But of a sudden they woke to life again, took an +upward bound, and within a month were quoted at five pounds--on rumour +alone. "Very sensitive indeed," said the STAR. Purdy, his only +confidant, went about swearing at himself for having let the few he +owned lapse; and Mahony itched to sell. He could now have banked two +hundred and fifty pounds. + +But Ocock laughed him out of countenance--even went so far as to pat +him on the shoulder. On no account was he to think of selling. "Sit +tight, doctor . . . sit tight! Till I say the word." + +And Mahony reluctantly obeyed. + + + + +Chapter IX + +In the course of the following winter John Turnham came to stand as one +of two candidates for the newly proclaimed electoral district of +Ballarat West. + +The first news his relatives had of his intention was gleaned from the +daily paper. Mahony lit on the paragraph by chance one morning; said: +"Hullo! Here's something that will interest you, my dear," and read it +aloud. + +Polly laid down her knife and fork, pushed her plate from her, and went +pink with pleasure and surprise. "Richard! You don't mean it!" she +exclaimed, and got up to look over his shoulder. Yes, there it was-- +John's name in all the glory of print. "Mr. John Millibank Turnham, one +of the foremost citizens and most highly respected denizens of our +marvellous metropolis, and a staunch supporter of democratic rights and +the interests of our people." Polly drew a deep breath. "Do you know, +Richard, I shouldn't wonder if he came to live on Ballarat--I mean if +he gets in.--Does Trotty hear? This is Trotty's papa they're writing +about in the papers.--Of course we must ask him to stay with us." For +this happened during an interregnum, when the spare room was temporarily +out of use. + +"Of course we must do nothing of the kind. Your brother will need the +best rooms Bath's can give him; and when he's not actually on the +hustings, he'll be hobnobbing in the bar, standing as many drinks as +there are throats in the crowd," gave back Mahony, who had the lowest +possible opinion of colonial politics. + +"Well, at least I can write and tell him how delighted we are," said +Polly, not to be done. + +"Find out first, my dear, if there's any truth in the report. I can +hardly think John would have left us in the dark to this extent." + +But John corroborated the news; and, in the letter Polly read out a week +later, announced the opening of his campaign for the coming month. + +I SHALL FEEL MUCH OBLIGED TO YOUR HUSBAND IF HE WILL MEANWHILE EXERT HIS +INFLUENCE ON MY BEHALF. HE IS NO DOUBT ACQUAINTED PROFESSIONALLY WITH +MANY OF THE LEADING SQUATTERS ROUND BALLARAT, WHOM HE CAN INDUCE TO +SUPPORT MY CANDIDATURE. + +"Umph!" said Mahony grumpily, and went on scooping out his egg. "We're +good enough to tout for him." + +"Ssh!" warned Polly, with a glance at Trotty. "Think what it means to +him, Richard, and to us, too. It will do your practice ever so much good +if he gets in--to be the brother-in-law of the member! We must help all +we can, dear." + +She was going driving to Yarangobilly that day with Archdeacon Long to +see a new arrival Richard had recently brought into the world; and now +she laid plans to kill two birds with one stone, entering into the +scheme with a gusto that astonished Mahony. "Upon my word, wife, I +believe you're glad to have something to do." + +"Will my own papa gimme a dolly? . . . like Uncle Papa?" here piped +Trotty. + +"Perhaps. But you will have to be a VERY good girl, and not talk with +your mouth full or dirty your pinnies. Oh, here's a postscript!" Polly +had returned to the sheet, and was gloating over it. "John writes: + +"ESPECIALLY MUST HE ENDEAVOUR TO WIN LAWYER OCOCK OVER TO MY SIDE. I LAY +GREAT WEIGHT ON O.'S SUPPORT. + +"Oh, Richard, now ISN'T that unfortunate? I do hope it won't make any +difference to John's chances." + +Polly's dismay had good grounds. A marked coolness had sprung up between +her husband and the lawyer; and on no account, she knew, would Richard +consent to approach Mr. Henry. Some very hot remarks made by the latter +had been passed on to her by Mrs. Glendinning. She had not dared to tell +Richard the worst. + +The coolness dated from an afternoon when Tilly Beamish had burst into +the house in a state of rampant excitement. "Oh, Polly! oh, I say! my +dear, whatever do you think? That old cove--old O.--'as actually had +the cheek to make me a proposal." + +"Tilly!" gasped Polly, and flushed to the roots of her hair. "Oh, my +dear, I AM pleased!" For Polly's conscience was still somewhat tender +about the aid she had lent Purdy in his evasions. The two women kissed, +and Tilly cried a little. "It's certainly her first offer," thought Mrs. +Polly. Aloud, she asked hesitatingly: "And do you . . . shall you . . . +I mean, are you going to accept him, Tilly?" + +But this was just where Tilly could not make up her mind: should she +take him, or should she not? For two whole days she sat about debating +the question; and Polly listened to her with all the sympathy and +interest so momentous a step deserved. + +"If you feel you could really learn to care for him, dear. Of course it +WOULD be nice for you to have a house of your own. And how happy it +would make poor mother to see you settled!" + +Tilly tore the last veil from her feelings, uttered gross confidences. +Polly knew well enough where her real inclination lay. "I've hoped +against hope, Poll, that a CERTAIN PERSON would come to the scratch at +last." Yes, it was true enough, he had nothing to offer her; but she +wasn't the sort to have stuck at that. "I'd have worked my hands to the +bone for 'im, Poll, if 'e'd ONLY said the word." The one drawback to +marriage with "you know 'oo" would have been his infirmity. "Some'ow, +Polly, I can't picture myself dragging a husband with a gammy leg at my +heels." From this, Tilly's mind glanced back to the suitor who had +honourably declared himself. Of course "old O." hadn't a great deal of +the gentleman about him; and their ages were unsuitable. "'E owns to +fifty-eight, and as you know, Poll, I'm only just turned twenty-five," +at which Polly drooped her head a little lower over the handkerchief she +was hemming, to avoid meeting her friend's eye. Poor dear Tilly! she +would never see thirty again; and she need hardly have troubled, thought +Polly, to be insincere with her. But in the same breath she took back +the reproach. A woman herself, she understood something of the fear, and +shame, and heartburning that had gone to the making of the lie. Perhaps, +too, it was a gentle hint from Tilly what age she now wished to be +considered. And so Polly agreed, and said tenderly: yes, certainly, the +difference was very marked. Meanwhile Tilly flowed on. These were the +two chief objections. On the other hand, the old boy was ludicrously +smitten; and she thought one might trust her, Tilly B., to soon knock +him into shape. It would also, no doubt, be possible to squeeze a few +pounds out of him towards assisting "pa and ma" in their present +struggle. Again, as a married woman she would have a chance of helping +Jinny to find a husband: "Though Jinn's gone off so, Polly, I bet you'd +hardly know her if you met 'er in the street." To end all, a bird in +hand, etc.; and besides, what prospects had she, if she remained a +spinster? + +So, when she was asked, Tilly accepted without further humming and +hawing an invitation to drive out in the smart dog-cart Mr. Ocock had +hired for the purpose; and Polly saw her off with many a small private +sign of encouragement. All went well. A couple of hours later Tilly came +flying in, caught Polly up in a bear's hug, and danced her round the +room. "My dear, wish me joy!--Oh, lor, Polly, I DO feel 'appy!" She was +wearing a large half-hoop of diamonds on her ring-finger: nothing would +do "old O." but that they should drive there and then to the finest +jeweller's in Sturt Street, where she had the pick of a trayful. And now +Mr. Ocock, all a-smirk with sheepish pride, was fetched in to receive +congratulations, and Polly produced refreshments; and healths were +drunk. Afterwards the happy couple dallied in the passage and loitered +on the doorstep, till evening was far advanced. + +It was Polly who, in clearing away, was struck dumb by the thought: "But +now whatever is to become of Miss Amelia?" + +She wondered if this consideration troubled the old man. Trouble there +was, of some sort: he called at the house three days running for a word +with Richard. He wore a brand-new pair of shepherd's-plaid trousers, a +choker that his work-stained hands had soiled in tying, a black coat, a +massive gold watch-chain. On the third visit he was lucky enough to +catch Mahony, and the door of the surgery closed behind them. + +Here Mr. Ocock sat on the extreme edge of a chair; alternately crushed +his wide-awake flat between his palms and expanded it again, as though +he were playing a concertina; and coughed out a wordy preamble. He +assured Mahony, to begin with, how highly he esteemed him. It was +because of this, because he knew doctor was as straight as a pound of +candles, that he was going to ask his advice on an awkward matter-- +devilish awkward!--one nobody had any idea of either--except Henry. +And Henry had kicked up such a deuce of a row at his wanting to marry +again, that he was damned if he'd have anything more to do with him. +Besides, the doctor knew what lawyers were--the whole breed of 'em! +Sharp as needles--especially Henry--but with a sort of squint in their +upper storey that made 'em see every mortal thing from the point of view +of law. And that was no good to him. What he needed was a plain and +honest, a . . . he hesitated for a word and repeated, "a Honest +opinion;" for he only wanted to do the right thing, what was straight +and above board. And at last out it came: did "doc." think it would be +acting on the square, and not taking a low-down advantage of a female, +if he omitted to mention to "the future Mrs. O" that, up till six months +back, he had been obliged to . . . well, he'd spit it out short and say, +obliged to report himself to the authorities at fixed intervals? Women +were such shy cattle, so damned odd! You never knew how they'd take a +thing like this. One might raise Cain over it, another only laugh, +another send him packing. He didn't want to let a fine young woman like +Matilda slip if he could help it, by dad he didn't! But he felt he must +either win her by fair dealing or not at all. And having got the load +off his chest, the old colonist swallowed hard, and ran the back of his +hand over his forehead. + +He had kept his eyes glued to the table-leg in speaking, and so saw +neither his hearer's involuntary start at the damaging disclosure, nor +the nervous tightening of the hand that lay along the arm of the chair. +Mahony sat silent, balancing a paper-knife, and fighting down a feeling +of extraordinary discomfort--his very finger-tips curled under the +strain. It was of little use to remind himself that, ever since he had +known him, Ocock had led a decent, God-fearing life, respected both in +his business relations and by his brethren of the chapel. Nor could he +spare more than a glance in passing for those odd traits in the old +man's character which were now explained: his itch for public approval; +his unvarying harshness towards the pair of incorrigibles who weighed +him down. At this moment he discounted even the integrity that had +prompted the confession. His attitude of mind was one of: why the deuce +couldn't the old fool have held his tongue? + +Oh, these unbidden, injudicious confidences! How they complicated life! +And as a doctor he was pestered with only too many; he was continually +being forced to see behind the scenes. Now, outsiders, too, must needs +choose him for the storehouse of their privacies. Himself he never made +a confidence; but it seemed as though just this buttoned-upness on his +part loosened people's tongues. Blind to the flags of warning he hoisted +in looks and bearing, they innocently proceeded, as Ocock had done, to +throw up insurmountable barriers. He could hear a new tone in his own +voice when he replied, and was relieved to know the old man dull of +perception. For now Ocock had finished speaking, and sat perspiring with +anxiety to learn his fate. Mahony pulled himself together; he could, in +good faith, tender the advice to let the dead past bury its dead. +Whatever the original fault had been--no, no, please! . . . and he +raised an arresting hand--it was, he felt sure, long since fully +atoned. And Mr. Ocock had said a true word: women were strange +creatures. The revelation of his secret might shipwreck his late-found +happiness. It also, of course, might not--and personally Mahony did not +believe it would; for Ocock's buisness throve like the green bay-tree, +and Miss Tilly had been promised a fine two-storeyed house, with +bow-windows and a garden, and a carriage-drive up to the door. Again, the +admission might be accepted in peace just now, and later on used as a +weapon against him. In his, Mahony's, eyes, by far the wisest course +would be, to let the grass grow over the whole affair. + +And here he rose, abruptly terminating the interview. "You and I, too, +sir, if you please, will forget what has passed between us this morning, +and never come back on it. How is Tom getting on in the drapery +business? Does he like his billet?" + +But none the less as he ushered his visitor out, he felt that there was +a certain finality about the action. It was--as far as his private +feelings were concerned--the old man's moral exit from the scene. + +On the doorstep Ocock hoped that nothing that had been said would reach +"your dear little lady." "To 'Enry, too, doc., if you'll be so good, +mum's the word! 'Enry 'ud never forgive me, nay, or you eether, if it +got to 'is 'ears I'd bin an' let the cat outer the bag. An' 'e's got a +bit of a down on you as it is, for it 'avin' bin your place I met the +future Mrs. O. at." + +"My good man!" broke from Mahony--and in this address, which would +previously never have crossed his lips, all his sensations of the past +hour were summed up. "Has your son Henry the"--he checked himself; +"does he suppose I--I or my wife--had anything to do with it?" + +He turned back to the surgery hot with annoyance. This, too! Not enough +that he must be put out of countenance by indiscreet babbling; he must +also get drawn into family squabbles, even be held responsible for them: +he who, brooking no interference in his own life, demanded only that +those about him should be as intolerant as he. + +It all came from Polly's indiscriminate hospitality. His house was never +his own. And now they had the prospect of John and his electoral +campaign before them. And John's chances of success, and John's stump +oratory, and the backstair-work other people were expected to do for him +would form the main theme of conversation for many a day to come. + +Mrs. Glendinning confirmed old Ocock's words. + +She came to talk over the engagement with Polly, and sitting in the +parlour cried a little, and was sorry. But then "poor little Agnes" +cried so easily nowadays. Richard said her nerves had been shattered by +the terrible affair just before Christmas, when Mr. Glendinning had +tried first to kill her, and then to cut his own throat. + +Agnes said: "But I told Henry quite plainly, darling, that I would not +cease my visits to you on that account. It is both wrong and foolish to +think you or Dr. Mahony had anything to do with it--and after the +doctor was so kind, too, so VERY kind, about getting poor Mr. +Glendinning into the asylum. And so you see, dear, Henry and I have had +quite a disagreement"; and Agnes cried again at the remembrance. "Of +course, I can sympathise with his point of view. . . . Henry is so +ambitious. All the same, dearest, it's not quite so bad--is it?--as he +makes out. Matilda is certainly not very COMME IL FAUT--you'll forgive +my saying so, love, won't you? But I think she will suit Henry's father +in every way. No, the truth is, the old gentleman has made a great deal +of money, and we naturally expected it to fall to Henry at his death; no +one anticipated his marrying again. Not that Henry really needs the +money; he is getting on so well; and I have. . . . I shall have plenty, +too, by and by. But you know, love, what men are." + +"Dearest Agnes! . . . don't fret about it. Mr. Henry thinks too much of +you, I'm sure, to be vexed with you for long. And when he looks at it +calmly, he'll see how unfair it is to make us responsible. I'm like you, +dear; I can't consider it a misfortune. Tilly is not a lady; but she's a +dear, warm-hearted girl and will make the old man a good wife. I only +hope though, Agnes, Mr. Henry won't say anything to Richard. Richard is +so touchy about things of that sort." + +The two women kissed, Polly with feelings of the tenderest affection: +the fact that, on behalf of their friendship, Agnes had pitted her will +against Mr. Henry's, endeared her to Polly as nothing else could have +done. + +But when, vigilant as a mother-hen, she sought to prepare her husband +for a possible unpleasantness, she found him already informed; and her +well-meant words were like a match laid to his suppressed indignation. + +"In all my born days I never heard such impudence!" + +He turned embarrassingly cool to Tilly. And Tilly, innocent of offence +and quite unskilled in deciphering subtleties, put this sudden change of +front down to jealousy, because she was going to live in a grander house +than he did. For the same reason he had begun to turn up his nose at +"Old O.," or she was very much mistaken; and in vain did Polly strive to +convince her that she was in error. "I don't know anyone Richard has a +higher opinion of!" + +But it was a very uncomfortable state of things; and when a message +arrived over the electric telegraph announcing the dangerous illness of +Mrs. Beamish, distressed though she was by the news, Polly could not +help heaving a tiny sigh of relief. For Tilly was summoned back to +Melbourne with all speed, if she wished to see her mother alive. + +They mingled their tears, Polly on her knees at the packing, Tilly +weeping whole-heartedly among the pillows of the bed. + +"If it 'ad only been pa now, I shouldn't have felt it half so much," and +she blew her nose for the hundredth time. "Pa was always such a rum old +stick. But poor ma . . . when I THINK how she's toiled and moiled 'er +whole life long, to keep things going. She's 'ad all the pains and none +of the pleasures; and now, just when I was hoping to be able to give 'er +a helping hand, THIS must happen." + +The one bright spot in Tilly's grief was that the journey would be made +in a private conveyance. Mr. Ocock had bought a smart gig and was +driving her down himself; driving past the foundations of the new house, +along the seventy odd miles of road, right up to the door of the mean +lodging in a Collingwood back street, where the old Beamishes had hidden +their heads. "If only she's able to look out of the window and see me +dash up in my own turn-out!" said Tilly. + +Polly fitted out a substantial luncheon-basket, and was keenest sympathy +to the last. But Mahony was a poor dissembler; and his sudden thaw, as +he assisted in the farewell preparations, could, Polly feared, have been +read aright by a child. + +Tilly hugged Polly to her, and gave her kiss after kiss. "I shall NEVER +forget 'ow kind you've been, Poll, and all you've done for me. I've had +my disappointments 'ere, as you know; but p'raps after all it'll turn +out to be for the best. One o' the good sides to it anyhow is that you +and me'll be next-door neighbours, so to say, for the rest of our lives. +And I'll hope to see something of you, my dear, every blessed day. But +you'll not often catch me coming to this house, I can tell you that! +For, if you won't mind me saying so, Poll, I think you've got one of the +queerest sticks for a husband that ever walked this earth. Blows hot one +day and cold the next, for all the world like the wind in spring. And +without caring twopence whose corns 'e treads on."--Which, thought +Polly, was but a sorry return on Tilly's part for Richard's hospitality. +After all, it was his house she had been a guest in. + +Such were the wheels within wheels. And thus it came about that, when +the question rose of paving the way for John Turnham's candidature, +Mahony drew the line at approaching Henry Ocock. + + + + +Chapter X + +John drove from Melbourne in a drag and four, accompanied by numerous +friends and well-wishers. A mile or so out of Ballarat, he was met by a +body of supporters headed by a brass band, and escorted in triumph to +the George Hotel. Here, the horses having been led away, John at once +took the field by mounting the box-seat of the coach and addressing the +crowd of idlers that had gathered round to watch the arrival. He got an +excellent hearing--so Jerry reported, who was an eye and ear-witness of +the scene--and was afterwards borne shoulder-high into the hotel. + +With Jerry at his heels, Mahony called at the hotel that evening. He +found John entertaining a large impromptu party. The table of the public +dining-room was disorderly with the remains of a liberal meal; napkins +lay crushed and flung down among plates piled high with empty nutshells; +the cloth was wine-stained, and bestrewn with ashes and breadcrumbs, the +air heady with the fumes of tobacco. Those of the guests who still +lingered at the table had pushed their chairs back or askew, and sat, +some a-straddle, some even with their feet on the cloth. John was +confabbing with half a dozen black-coats in a corner. Each held a +wineglass in his hand from which he sipped, while John, legs apart, did +all the talking, every now and then putting out his forefinger to prod +one of his hearers on the middle button of the waistcoat. It was some +time before he discovered the presence of his relatives; and Mahony had +leisure to admire the fashion in which, this corner-talk over, John +dispersed himself among the company; drinking with this one and that; +glibly answering questions; patting a glum-faced brewer on the back; and +simultaneously checking over, with an oily-haired agent, his +committee-meetings for the following days. His customary arrogance and +pompousness of manner were laid aside. For the nonce, he was a simple man +among men. + +Then espying them, he hurried over, and rubbing his hands with pleasure +said warmly: "My dear Mahony, this is indeed kind! Jerry, my lad, how +do, how do? Still growing, I see! We'll make a fine fellow of you yet.-- +Well, doctor! . . . we've every reason, I think, to feel satisfied with +the lie of the land." + +But here he was snatched from them by an urgent request for a +pronouncement--"A quite informal word, sir, if you'll be so good,"--on +the vexed question of vote by ballot. And this being a pet theme of +John's, and a principle he was ready to defend through thick and thin, +he willingly complied. + +Mahony had no further talk with him. The speech over--it was a concise +and spirited utterance, and, if you were prepared to admit the efficacy +of the ballot, convincing enough--Mahony quietly withdrew. He had to +see a patient at eleven. Polly, too, would probably be lying awake for +news of her brother. + +As he threw back his braces and wound up his watch, he felt it incumbent +on him to warn her not to pitch her hopes too high. "You mustn't expect, +my dear, that your brother's arrival will mean much to us. He is now a +public man, and will have little time for small people like ourselves. +I'm bound to admit, Polly, I was very favourably impressed by the few +words I heard him say," he added. + +"Oh, Richard, I'm SO glad!" and Polly, who had been sitting on the edge +of the bed, stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss. + +As Mahony predicted, John's private feelings went down before the +superior interests of his campaign. Three days passed before he found +time to pay his sister a visit; and Polly, who had postponed a washing, +baked her richest cakes and pastries, and clad Trotty in her Sunday best +each day of the three: Polly was putting a good face on the matter, and +consoling herself with Jerry's descriptions of John's triumphs. How she +wished she could hear some of the speechifying! But Richard would never +consent; and electioneering did certainly seem, from what Jerry said, a +very rough-and-ready business--nothing for ladies. Hence her delight +knew no bounds when John drove up unexpectedly late one afternoon, +between a hard day's personal canvassing and another of the innumerable +dinners he had to eat his way through. Tossing the reins to the +gentleman who sat next him, he jumped out of the wagonette--it was hung +with placards of "Vote for Turnham!"--and gave a loud rat-a-tat at the +door. + +Forgetting in her excitement that this was Ellen's job, Polly opened to +him herself, and drew him in. "John! How pleased I am to see you!" + +"My dear girl, how are you? God bless me, how you've altered! I should +never have known you." He held her at arm's length, to consider her. + +"But you haven't changed in the least, John. Except to grow younger.-- +Richard, here's John at last!--and Trotty, John . . . here's Trotty!-- +Take your thumb out of your mouth, naughty girl!--She's been watching +for you all day, John, with her nose to the window." And Polly pushed +forward the scarlet, shrinking child. + +John's heartiness suffered a distinct check as his eyes lit on Trotty, +who stood stiff as a bit of Dresden china in her bunchy starched +petticoats. "Come here, Emma, and let me look at you." Taking the fat +little chin between thumb and first finger, he turned the child's face +up and kept it so, till the red button of a mouth trembled, and the +great blue eyes all but ran over. "H'm! Yes . . . a notable resemblance +to her mother. Ah, time passes, Polly my dear--time passes!" He sighed. +--"I hope you mind your aunt, Emma, and are properly grateful to her?" + +Abruptly quitting his hold, he swept the parlour with a glance. "A very +snug little place you have here, upon my word!" + +While Polly, with Trotty pattering after, bustled to the larder, Mahony +congratulated his brother-in-law on the more favourable attitude towards +his election policy which was becoming evident in the local press. +John's persuasive tongue was clearly having its effect, and the +hostility he had met with at the outset of his candidature was yielding +to more friendly feelings on all sides. John was frankly gratified by +the change, and did not hesitate to say so. When the wine arrived they +drank to his success, and Polly's delicacies met with their due share of +praise. Then, having wiped his mouth on a large silk handkerchief, John +disclosed the business object of his call. He wanted specific +information about the more influential of their friends and +acquaintances; and here he drew a list of names from his pocket-book. +Mahony, his chin propped on the flaxen head of the child, whom he +nursed, soon fell out of the running for Polly proved far the cleverer +at grasping the nature of the information John sought, and at retailing +it. And John complimented her on her shrewdness, ticked off names, took +notes on what she told him; and when he was not writing sat tapping his +thick, carnation-red underlip, and nodding assent. It was arranged that +Polly should drive out with him next day to Yarangobilly, by way of +Dandaloo; while for the evening after they plotted a card-party, at +which John might come to grips with Archdeacon Long. John expected to +find the reverend gentleman a hard nut to crack, their views on the +subject of a state aid to religion being diametrically opposed. Polly +thought a substantial donation to the chancel-fund might smooth things +over, while for John to display a personal interest in Mrs. Long's +charities would help still more. Then there were the Ococks. The old man +could be counted on, she believed; but John might have some difficulty +with Mr. Henry--and here she initiated her brother into the domestic +differences which had split up the Ocock family, and prevented Richard +from approaching the lawyer. John, who was in his most democratic mood, +was humorous at the expense of Henry, and declared the latter should +rather wish his father joy of coming to such a fine, bouncing young wife +in his old age. The best way of getting at Mr. Henry, Polly considered, +would be for Mrs Glendinning to give a luncheon or a bushing-party, with +the lawyer among the guests: "Then you and I, John, could drive out and +join them--either by chance or invitation, as you think best." Polly +was heart and soul in the affair. + +But business over, she put several straight questions about the boy, +little Johnny--Polly still blamed herself for having meekly submitted +to the child's removal from her charge--and was not to be fobbed off +with evasions. The unfavourable verdict she managed to worm out of John: +"Incorrigible, my dear Polly--utterly incorrigible! His masters report +him idle, disobedient, a bad influence on the other scholars," she met +staunchly with: "Perhaps it has something to do with the school. Why not +try another? Johnny had his good qualities; in many ways was quite a +lovable child." + +For the first time Mahony saw his wife and her eldest brother together +and he could not but be struck by Polly's attitude. Greatly as she +admired and reverenced John, there was not a particle of obsequiousness +in her manner, nor any truckling to his point of view; and she plainly +felt nothing of the peculiar sense of discomfort that invariably +attacked him, in John's presence. Either she was not conscious of her +brother's grossly patronising air, or, aware of it, did not resent it, +John having always been so much her superior in age and position. Or was +it indeed the truth that John did not try to patronise Polly? That his +overbearing nature recognised in hers a certain springy resistance, +which was not to be crushed? In other words, that, in a Turnham, Turnham +blood met its match. + +John re-took his seat in the front of the wagonette, Trotty was lifted +up to see the rosettes and streamers adorning the horses, the gentlemen +waved their hats, and off they went again at a fine pace, and with a +whip-cracking that brought the neighbours to their windows. + +Polly had pink cheeks with it all, and even sought to excuse the meagre +interest John had shown in his daughter. "Trotty was only a baby in arms +when he saw her last. Besides, I think she reminded him too much of her +dear mother. For I'm sure, though he doesn't let it be seen, John still +feels his loss." + +"I wonder!" said Mahony slowly and with a strong downward inflection, as +he turned indoors. + +On the eve of the polling Polly had the honour of accompanying her +brother to a performance at the Theatre Royal. A ticket came for +Richard, too; but, as usual, he was at the last moment called out. So +Purdy took her on his arm and escorted her--not exactly comfortably; +for, said Polly, no one who had not tried it, knew how hard it was to +walk arm-in-arm with a lame person, especially if you did not want to +hurt his feelings--Purdy took her to the theatre, helped her to +unmuffle and to change her boots, and bore her company till her brother +arrived. They had seats in the centre of the front row of the dress +circle; all eyes were turned on them as they entered; and Polly's +appearance was the subject of audible and embarrassing comment. + +In every interval John was up and away, to shake a hand here, pass the +time of day there; and watching him with affectionate pride, Polly +wondered how Richard could ever have termed him "high-handed and +difficult." John had the knack, it seemed to her, of getting on with +people of every class, and of always finding the right word to say. But +as the evening advanced his seat remained empty even while the curtain +was up, and she was glad when, between the fourth and fifth acts, her +husband at last appeared. + +On his way to her Mahony ran into his brother-in-law, and John +buttonholed him to discuss with him the prospects of the morrow. As they +talked, their eyes rested on Polly's glossy black chignon; on the nape +of her white neck; on the beautiful, rounded young shoulders which, in +obedience to the fashion, stood right out of her blue silk bodice. +Mahony shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. He could +not imagine Polly enjoying her exposed position, and disapproved +strongly of John having left her. But for all answer to the hint he +threw out John said slowly, and with a somewhat unctuous relish: "My +sister has turned into a remarkably handsome woman!"--words which sent +the lightning-thought through Mahony that, had Polly remained the +insignificant little slip of a thing of earlier days, she would not have +been asked to fill the prominent place she did this evening. + +John sent his adieux and excuses to Polly. He had done what was expected +of him, in showing himself at a public entertainment, and a vast mass of +correspondence lay unsorted on his desk. So Mahony moved forward alone. + +"Oh, Richard, there you are! Oh dear, what you've missed! I never +thought there could be such acting." And Polly turned her great dark +eyes on her husband; they were moist from the noble sentiments of THE +TRUE BRITON. + +The day of the election broke, a gusty spring day cut up by stinging +hail-showers, which beat like fusillades on the galvanised iron roofs. +Between the showers, the sun shone in a gentian-blue sky, against which +the little wooden houses showed up crassly white. Ballarat made holiday. +Early as Mahony left home, he met a long line of conveyances heading +townwards--spring carts, dogcarts, double and single buggies, in some +of which, built to seat two only, five or six persons were huddled. +These and similar vehicles drew up in rows outside the public-houses, +where the lean, long-legged colonial horses stood jerking at their +tethers; and they were still there, still jerking, when he passed again +toward evening. On a huge poster the "Unicorn" offered to lunch free all +those "thinking men" who registered their vote for "the one and only +true democrat, the miners' friend and tyrants' foe, John Turnham." + +In the hope of avoiding a crush Mahony drove straight to the +polling-booth. But already all the loafers and roughs in the place seemed +to be congregated round the entrance, after the polite custom of the +country to chivy, or boo, or huzza those who went in. In waiting his turn, +he had to listen to comments on his dress and person, to put up with +vulgar allusions to blue pills and black draughts. + +Just as he was getting back into his buggy John rode up, flanked by a +bodyguard of friends; John was galloping from booth to booth, to verify +progress and put the thumbscrew on wobblers. He beamed--as well he +might. He was certain to be one of the two members elected, and quite +likely to top the poll by a respectable majority. + +For once Mahony did not grumble at his outlying patients; was only too +thankful to turn his back on the town. It was pandemonium. Bands of +music, one shriller and more discordant than the next, marched up and +down the main streets--from the fifes and drums of the Fire Brigade, to +the kerosene-tins and penny-whistles of mere determined noise-makers. +Straggling processions, with banners that bore the distorted features of +one or other of the candidates, made driving difficult; and, to add to +the confusion, the schoolchildren were let loose, to overrun the place +and fly advertisement balloons round every corner.--And so it went on +till far into the night, the dark hours being varied by torchlight +processions, fireworks, free fights and orgies of drunkenness. + +The results of the polling were promised for two o'clock the following +day. + +When, something after this hour Mahony reached home, he found Polly and +the gentle, ox-eyed Jinny Beamish, who was the present occupant of the +spare room, pacing up and down before the house. According to Jerry news +might be expected now at any minute. And when he had lunched and changed +his coat, Mahony, bitten by the general excitement, made his way down to +the junction of Sturt Street and the Flat. + +A great crowd blocked the approaches to the hustings. Here were the four +candidates, who, in attending the issue, strove to look decently +unconcerned. John had struck a quasi-Napoleonic attitude: his right +elbow propped in the cup of his left hand, he held his drooped chin +between thumb and forefinger, leaving it to his glancing black eyes to +reveal how entirely alive he was to the gravity of the moment. Standing +on the fringe of the crowd, Mahony listened to the piebald jokes and +rude wit with which the people beguiled the interim; and tried to endure +with equanimity the jostling, the profane language and offensive odours, +by which he was assailed. Half an hour elapsed before the returning +officer climbed the ladder at the back of the platform, and came forward +to announce the result of the voting: Mr. John Millibank Turnham topped +the poll with a majority of four hundred and fifty-two. The crowd, which +at sight of the clerk had abruptly ceased its fooling, drowned his +further statements in a roar of mingled cheers and boos. The cheers had +it; hats were tossed into the air, and loud cries for a speech arose. +John's advance to grip the railing led to a fresh outburst, in which the +weakening opposition was quashed by the singing of: "When Johnny comes +marching home!" and "Cheer, boys, cheer, For home and mother country!"-- +an incongruity of sentiment that made Mahony smile. And John, having +repeatedly bowed his thanks from side to side, joined in and sang with +the rest. + +The opening of his speech was inaudible to Mahony. Just behind him stood +one of his brother-in-law's most arrant opponents, a butcher by trade, +and directly John began to hold forth this man produced a cornet-a-piston +and started to blow it. In vain did Mahony expostulate: he seemed +to have got into a very wasps'-nest of hostility; for the player's +friends took up the cudgels and baited him in a language he would have +been sorry to imitate, the butcher blaring away unmoved, with the fierce +solemnity of face the cornet demands. Mahony lost his temper; his +tormentors retaliated; and for a moment it looked as though there would +be trouble. Then a number of John's supporters, enraged by the bellowing +of the instrument, bore down and forcibly removed the musician and his +clique, Mahony along with them. + +Having indignantly explained, and shaken coat and collar to rights, he +returned to his place on the edge of the crowd. The speaker's deep voice +had gone steadily on during the disturbance. Indeed John might have been +born to the hustings. Interruptions did not put him out; he was +brilliant at repartee; and all the stock gestures of the public speaker +came at his call: the pounding of the bowl of one hand with the closed +fist of the other; the dramatic wave of the arm with which he plumbed +the depths or invited defiance; the jaunty standing-at-ease, arms +akimbo; the earnest bend from the waist when he took his hearers into +his confidence. At this moment he was gripping the rail of the platform +as though he intended to vault it, and asserting: "Our first cry, then, +is for men to people the country; our next, for independence, to work +out our own salvation. Yes, my friends, the glorious future of this +young and prosperous colony, which was once and most auspiciously known +as Australia Felix--blest, thrice-blest Australia!--rests with +ourselves alone. We who inhabit here can best judge of her requirements, +and we refuse to see her hampered in her progress by the shackles of an +ancient tradition. What suits our hoary mother-country--God bless and +keep her and keep us loyal to her!--is but dry husks for us. England +knows nothing of our most pressing needs. I ask you to consider how, +previous to 1855, that pretty pair of mandarins, Lord John Russell and +Earl Grey, boggled and botched the crucial question of unlocking the +lands even yet, gentlemen, the result of their muddling lies heavy on +us. And the Land Question, though first in importance, is but one, as +you know, of many"--and here John, playing on the tips of five +wide-stretched fingers, counted them off. He wound up with a flaming plea +for the creation and protection of purely national industries. "For what, +I would ask you, is the true meaning of democracy in a country such as +ours? What is, for us, the democratic principle? The answer, my friends, +is conservatism; yes, I repeat it--conservatism!" . . . and thus to a +final peroration. + +In the braying and hurrahing that followed--the din was heightened by +some worthy mounting a barrel to move that "this yere Johnny Turnham" +was not a fit person to represent "the constitooency," by the barrel +being dragged from under him, and the speaker rolled in the mud; while +this went on Mahony stood silent, and he was still standing meditatively +pulling his whiskers when a sudden call for a doctor reached his ear. He +pushed his way to the front. + +How the accident happened no one knew. John had descended from the +platform to a verandah, where countless hands were stretched out to +shake his. A pile of shutters was leaning against the wall, and in some +unexplained fashion these had fallen, striking John a blow that knocked +him down. When Mahony got to him he was on his feet again, wiping a drop +of blood from his left temple. He looked pale, but pooh-poohed injury or +the idea of interfering with his audience's design; and Mahony saw him +shouldered and borne off. + +That evening there was a lengthy banquet, in which all the notables of +the place took part. Mahony's seat was some way off John's; he had to +lean forward, did he wish to see his brother-in-law. + +Towards eleven o'clock, just as he was wondering if he could slip out +unobserved, a hand was laid on his arm. John stood behind him, white to +the lips. "Can I have a word with you upstairs?" + +Here he confessed to a knife-like pain in his left side; the brunt of +the blow, it seemed, had met him slantways between rib and hip. A +cursory examination made Mahony look grave. + +"You must come back with me, John, and let me see to you properly." + +Having expressed the chief guest's regrets to the company, he ordered a +horse and trap, and helping John into it drove him home. And that night +John lay in their bed, letting out the groans he had suppressed during +the evening; while Polly snatched forty winks beside Jinny Beamish, and +Mahony got what sleep he could on the parlour sofa. + + + + +Chapter XI + +There for some weeks John was a prisoner, with a fractured rib encased +in strips of plaster. "In your element again, old girl!" Mahony chaffed +his wife, when he met her bearing invalid trays. + +"Oh, it doesn't all fall on me, Richard. Jinny's a great help--sitting +with John and keeping him company." + +Mahony could see it for himself. Oftenest when he entered the room it +was Jinny's black-robed figure--she was in mourning for her parents; +for Mrs. Beamish had sunk under the twofold strain of failure and +disgrace, and the day after her death it had been necessary to cut old +Beamish down from a nail--oftenest it was Jinny he found sitting behind +a curtain of the tester-bed, watching while John slept, ready to read to +him or to listen to his talk when he awoke. This service set Polly free +to devote herself to the extra cooking; and John was content. "A most +modest and unassuming young woman," ran his verdict on Jinny. + +Polly reported it to her husband in high glee. "Who could ever have +believed two sisters would turn out so differently? Tilly to get +so . . . so . . . well, you know what I mean . . . and Jinny to improve as +she has done. Have you noticed, Richard, she hardly ever--really quite +seldom now--drops an h? It must all have been due to Tilly serving in +that low bar." + +By the time John was so far recovered as to exchange bed for sofa, it +had come to be exclusively Jinny who carried in to him the dainties +Polly prepared--the wife as usual was content to do the dirty work! +John declared Miss Jinny had the foot of a fay; also that his meals +tasted best at her hands. Jinny even succeeded in making Trotty fond of +her; and the love of the fat, shy child was not readily won. Entering +the parlour one evening Mahony surprised quite a family scene: John, +stretched on the sofa, was stringing cats'-cradles, Jinny sat beside him +with Trotty on her knee. + +On the whole, though, the child did not warm to her father. + +"Aunty, kin dat man take me away f'om you?" + +"That man? Why, Trotty darling, he's your father!" said Polly, shocked. + +"Kin 'e take me away f'om you and Uncle Papa?" + +"He could if he wanted to. But I'm sure he doesn't," answered her aunt, +deftly turning a well-rolled sheet of pastry. + +And righting her dolly, which she had been dragging upside down, Trotty +let slip her fears with the sovereign ease of childhood. + +From the kitchen Polly could hear the boom of John's deep bass: it made +nothing of the lath-and-plaster walls. Of course, shut up as he was, he +had to talk to somebody, poor fellow; and Richard was too busy to spare +him more than half an hour of an evening. Jinny was a good listener. +Through the crack of the door, Polly could see her sitting humbly +drinking in John's words, and even looking rather pretty, in her fair, +full womanliness. + +"Oh, Polly!" she burst out one day, after being held thus spellbound. +"Oh, my dear, what a splendid man your brother is! I feel sometimes I +could sink through the floor with shame at my ignorance, when 'e talks +to me so." + +But as time went on Mahony noticed that his wife grew decidedly +thoughtful; and if John continued to sing Jinny's praises, he heard +nothing more of it. He had an acute suspicion what troubled Polly; but +did not try to force her confidence. + +Then one afternoon, on his getting home, she came into the surgery +looking very perturbed, and could hardly find words to break a certain +piece of news to him. It appeared that not an hour previously, Jinny, +flushed and tearful, had lain on her neck, confessing her feelings for +John and hinting at the belief that they were returned. + +"Well, I think you might have been prepared for something of this sort, +Polly," he said with a shrug, when he had heard her out. "Convalescence +is notoriously dangerous for fanning the affections." + +"Oh, but I never DREAMT of such a thing, Richard! Jinny is a dear good +girl and all that, but she is NOT John's equal. And that he can even +THINK of putting her in poor Emma's place!--What shall I say to him?" + +"Say nothing at all. Your brother John is not the man to put up with +interference." + +"He longs so for a real home again, Polly darling," said Jinny, wiping +her eyes. "And HOW 'appy it will make me to fulfil 'is wish! Don't let +me feel unwelcome and an intruder, dear. I know I'm not nearly good +enough for 'im, and 'e could 'ave had the choice of ever such handsome +women. But 'e 'as promised to be patient with me, and to teach me +everything I ought to know." + +Polly's dismay at the turn of events yielded to a womanly sympathy with +her friend. "It's just like poor little Agnes and Mr. Henry over again," +was her private thought. For she could not picture John stooping to +guide and instruct. + +But she had been touched on a tender spot--that of ambitious pride for +those related to her--and she made what Mahony called "a real Turnham +attempt" to stand up to John. Against her husband's express advice. + +"For if your brother chooses to contract a mesalliance of this kind, +it's nobody's business but his own. Upon my word though, Polly, if you +don't take care, this house will get a bad name over the matches that +are made in it. You had better have your spare room boarded up, my +dear." + +Mahony was feeling particularly rasped by John's hoity-toity behaviour +in this connection. Having been nursed back to health, John went about +with his chin in the air, and hardly condescended to allude to his +engagement--let alone talk it over with his relatives. So Mahony +retired into himself--after all, the world of John's mind was so +dissimilar to his own that he did not even care to know what went on in +it. "The fellow has been caught on the hop by a buxom form and a +languishing eye," was how he dismissed the matter in thought. + +"I raise my wife to my own station, Mary. And you will greatly oblige me +by showing Jane every possible attention," was the only satisfaction +Polly could get from John, made in his driest tone. + +Before the engagement was a week old Tilly reappeared--she was to be +married from their house on the hither side of Christmas. At first she +was too full of herself and her own affairs to let either Polly or Jinny +get a word in. Just to think of it! That old cabbage-grower, Devine, had +gone and bought the block of land next the one Mr. O. was building on. +She'd lay a bet he would put up a house the dead spit of theirs. Did +ever anyone hear such cheek? + +At the news that was broken to her, the first time she paused for +breath, she let herself heavily down on a chair. + +"Well, I'm blowed!" was all she could ejaculate. "Blowed!. . . that's +what I am." + +But afterwards, when Jinny had left the room, she gave free play to a +very real envy and regret. "In all my life I never did! Jinn to be Mrs. +John! . . . and, as like as not, the Honourable Mrs. John before she's +done. Oh, Polly, my dear, why EVER didn't I wait!" + +On being presented to John, however, she became more reconciled to her +lot. "'E's got a temper, your brother has, or I'm very much mistaken. It +won't be all beer and skittles for 'er ladyship. For Jinn hasn't a scrap +of spunk in 'er, Polly. She got so mopey the last year or two, there was +no doing anything with 'er. Now it was just the other way round with me. +No matter how black things looked, I always kept my pecker up. Poor ma +used to say I grew more like her, every day." + +And at a still later date: "No, Polly, my dear, I wouldn't change places +with the future Mrs. T. after all, thank you--not for Joseph! I SAY! +she'll need to mind her p's and q's." For Tilly had listened to John +explaining to Jinny what he expected of her, what she might and might +not do; and had watched Jinny sitting meekly by and saying yes to +everything. + +There was nothing in the way of the marriage; indeed, did it not take +place immediately, Jinny would have to look about her for a situation of +some kind; and, said John, that was nothing for HIS wife. His house +stood empty; he was very much in love; and pressed for the naming of the +day. So it was decided that Polly should accompany Jinny to lodgings in +Melbourne, help her choose her trousseau and engage servants. Afterwards +there would be a quiet wedding--by reason of Jinny's mourning--at +which Richard, if he could possibly contrive to leave his patients, +would give the bride away. Polly was to remain in John's house while the +happy couple were on honeymoon, to look after the servants. This +arrangement would also make the break less hard for the child. Trotty +was still blissfully unconscious of what had befallen her. She had +learnt to say "new mamma" parrot-wise, without understanding what the +words meant. And meanwhile, the fact that she was to go with her aunt +for a long, exciting coach-ride filled her childish cup with happiness. +As Polly packed the little clothes, she thought of the night, six years +before, when the fat, sleeping babe had been laid in her arms. + +"Of course it's only natural John should want his family round him +again. But I SHALL miss the dear little soul," she said to her husband +who stood watching her. + +"What you need is a little one of your own, wife." + +"Ah, don't I wish I had!" said Polly, and drew a sigh. "That would make +up for everything. Still if it can't be, it can't." + +A few days before the set time John received an urgent summons to +Melbourne, and went on ahead, leaving Mahony suspecting him of a dodge +to avoid travelling EN FAMILLE. In order that his bride-elect should not +be put to inconvenience, John hired four seats for the three of them; +but: "He might just as well have saved his money," thought Polly, when +she saw the coach. Despite their protests they were packed like herrings +in a barrel--had hardly enough room to use their hands. Altogether it +was a trying journey. Jinny, worked on by excitement and fatigue, took a +fit of hysterics; Trotty, frightened by the many rough strangers, cried +and had to be nursed; and the whole burden of the undertaking lay on +Polly's shoulders. She had felt rather timid about it, before starting; +but was obliged to confess she got on better than she expected. A kind +old man sitting opposite, for instance--a splitter he said he was-- +actually undid Jinny's bonnet-strings, and fetched water for her at the +first stoppage. + +Polly had not been in Melbourne since the year after her marriage, and +was looking forward intensely to the visit. She went laden with +commissions; her lady-friends gave her a list as long as her arm. +Richard, too, had entrusted her to get him second-hand editions of +various medical works, as well as a new stethoscope. Thirdly, she had +promised old Mr. Ocock to go to William's Town to meet Miss Amelia, who +even now was tossing somewhere on the Indian Ocean, and to escort the +poor young lady up to Ballarat. + +Having seen them start, Mahony went home to drink his coffee and read +his paper in a quiet that was new to him. John's departure had already +eased the strain. Then Tilly had been boarded out at the Methodist +minister's. Now, with the exit of Polly and her charges, a great peace +descended on the little house. The rooms lay white and still in the sun, +and though all doors stood open, there was not a sound to be heard but +the buzzing of the blowflies round the sweets of the flytraps. He was +free to look as glum as he chose of a morning if he had neuralgia; or to +be silent when worried over a troublesome case. No longer would Miss +Tilly's bulky presence and loud-voiced reiterations of her prospects +grate his nerves; or John's full-blooded absorption in himself, and poor +foolish Jinny's quavering doubts whether she would ever be able to live +up to so magnificent a husband, offend his sense of decorum. + +Another reason he was glad to see the last of them was that, in the long +run, he had rebelled at the barefaced way they made use of Polly, and +took advantage of her good nature. She had not only cooked for them and +waited on them; he had even caught her stitching garments for the +helpless Jinny. This was too much: such extreme obligingness on his +wife's part seemed to detract from her personal dignity. He could never +though have got Polly to see it. Undignified to do a kindness? What a +funny, selfish idea! The fact was, there was a certain streak in Polly's +nature that made her more akin to all these good people than to him-- +him with his unsociable leanings towards a hermit's cell; his genuine +need of an occasional hour's privacy and silence, in which to think a +few thoughts through to the end. + +On coming in from his rounds he turned out an old linen jacket that +belonged to his bachelor days, and raked up some books he had not opened +for an almost equally long time. He also steered clear of friends and +acquaintances, went nowhere, saw no one but his patients. And Ellen, to +whose cookery Polly had left him with many misgivings, took things easy. +"He's so busy reading, he never knows what he puts in his mouth. I +believe he'd eat his boot-soles, if I fried 'em up neat wid a bit of +parsley," she reported over the back fence on Doctor's odd ways. + +During the winter months the practice had as usual fallen off. By now it +was generally beginning to look up again; but this year, for some +reason, the slackness persisted. He saw how lean his purse was, whenever +he had to take a banknote from it to enclose to Polly; there was +literally nothing doing, no money coming in. Then, he would restlessly +lay his book aside, and drawing a slip of paper to him set to reckoning +and dividing. Not for the first time he found himself in the doctor's +awkward quandary: how to be decently and humanly glad of a rise in the +health-rate. + +He had often regretted having held to the half-hundred shares he had +bought at Henry Ocock's suggestion; had often spent in fancy the sum +they would have brought in, had he sold when they touched their highest +figure. Such a chance would hardly come his way again. After the one +fictitious flare-up, "Porepunkahs" had fallen heavily--the first main +prospect-drive, at a depth of three hundred and fifty feet, had failed +to strike the gutter--and nowadays they were not even quoted. Thus had +ended his single attempt to take a hand in the great game. + +One morning he sat at breakfast, and thought over his weekly epistle to +Polly. In general, this chronicled items of merely personal interest. +The house had not yet been burnt down--her constant fear, when absent; +another doctor had got the Asylum; he himself stood a chance of being +elected to the Committee of the District Hospital. To-day, however, +there was more to tell. The English mail had come in, and the table was +strewn with foreign envelopes and journals. Besides the usual letters +from relatives, one in a queer, illiterate hand had reached him, the +address scrawled in purple ink on the cheapest note-paper. Opening it +with some curiosity, Mahony found that it was from his former assistant, +Long Jim. + +The old man wrote in a dismal strain. Everything had gone against him. +His wife had died, he was out of work and penniless, and racked with +rheumatism--oh, it was "a crewl climat"! Did he stop in England, only +"the house" remained to him; he'd end in a pauper's grave. But he +believed if he could get back to a scrap of warmth and the sun, he'd be +good for some years yet. Now he'd always known Dr. Mahony for the +kindest, most liberal of gentlemen; the happiest days of his life had +been spent under him, on the Flat; and if he'd only give him a lift now, +there was nothing he wouldn't do to show his gratitude. Doctor knew a +bit about him, too. Here, he couldn't seem to get on with folk at all. +They looked crooked at him, and just because he'd once been spunky +enough to try his luck overseas. Mahony pshawed and smiled; then +wondered what Polly would say to this letter. She it was who had been +responsible for packing the old man off. + +Unfolding the STAR, he ran his eye over its columns. He had garnered the +chief local news and was skimming the mining intelligence, when he +suddenly stopped short with an exclamation of surprise; and his grip on +the paper tightened. There it stood, black on white. "Porepunkahs" had +jumped to three pounds per share! What the dickens did that mean? He +turned back to the front sheet, to find if any clue to the claim's +renewed activity had escaped him; but sought in vain. So bolting the +rest of his breakfast, he hurried down to the town, to see if, on the +spot, he could pick up information with regard to the mysterious rise. + +The next few days kept him in a twitter of excitement. "Porepunkahs" +went on advancing--not by leaps and bounds as before, but slowly and +steadily--and threw off a dividend. He got into bed at night with a hot +head, from wondering whether he ought to hold on or sell out; and inside +a week he was off to consult the one person who was in a position to +advise him. Henry Ocock's greeting resembled an embrace--"It evidently +means a fortune for him"--and all trifling personal differences were +forgotten in the wider common bond. The lawyer virtually ordered Mahony +to "sit in", till he gave the word. By this time "Porepunkahs" had +passed their previous limit, and even paid a bonus: it was now an open +secret that a drive undertaken in an opposite direction to the first had +proved successful; the lead was scored and seamed with gold. Ocock spoke +of the stone, specimens of which he had held in his hand--declared he +had never seen its equal. + +But when the shares stood at fifty-three pounds each, Mahony could +restrain himself no longer; and, in spite of Ocock's belief that another +ten days would see a COUP, he parted with forty-five of the half hundred +he held. Leaving the odd money with the lawyer for re-investment, he +walked out of the office the possessor of two thousand pounds. + +It was only a very ordinary late spring day; the season brought its like +by the score: a pale azure sky, against which the distant hills looked +purple; above these a narrow belt of cloud, touched, in its curves, to +the same hue. But to Mahony it seemed as if such a perfect day had never +dawned since he first set foot in Australia. His back was eased of its +burden; and, like Christian on having passed the wall known as +Salvation, he could have wept tears of joy. After all these years of +pinching and sparing he was out of poverty's grip. The suddenness of the +thing was what staggered him. He might have drudged till his hair was +grey; it was unlikely he would ever, at one stroke, have come into +possession of a sum like this.--And that whole day he went about +feeling a little more than human, and seeing people, places, things, +through a kind of beatific mist. Now, thank God, he could stand on his +own legs again; could relieve John of his bond, pay off the mortgage on +the house, insure his life before it was too late. And, everything done, +he would still have over a thousand pounds to his credit. A thousand +pounds! No longer need he thankfully accept any and every call; or +reckon sourly that, if the leakage on the roof was to be mended, he must +go without a new surtout. Best of all, he could now begin in earnest to +save. + +First, though, he allowed himself two very special pleasures. He sent +Polly a message on the electric telegraph to say that he would come down +himself to fetch her home. In secret he planned a little trip to +Schnapper Point. At the time of John's wedding he had been unable to get +free; this would be the first holiday he and Polly had ever had +together. + +The second thing he did was: to indulge the love of giving that was +innate in him; and of giving in a somewhat lordly way. He enjoyed the +broad grin that illumined Ellen's face at his unlooked-for generosity; +Jerry's red stammered thanks for the gift of the cob the boy had long +coveted. It did him good to put two ten-pound notes in an envelope and +inscribe Ned's name on it; he had never yet been able to do anything for +these poor lads. He also, without waiting to consult Polly--fearing, +indeed, that she might advise against it--sent off the money to Long +Jim for the outward voyage, and a few pounds over. For there were +superstitious depths in him; and, at this turn in his fortunes, it would +surely be of ill omen to refuse the first appeal for help that reached +him. + +Polly was so much a part of himself that he thought of her last of all. +But then it was with moist eyes. She, who had never complained, should +of a surety not come short! And he dropped asleep that night to the +happy refrain: "Now she shall have her piano, God bless her! . . . the +best that money can buy." + + + + + +Part IV + + +Chapter I + +The new house stood in Webster Street. It was twice as large as the old +one, had a garden back and front, a verandah round three sides. When +Mahony bought it, and the piece of ground it stood on, it was an +unpretentious weather-board in a rather dilapidated condition. The +situation was good though--without being too far from his former +address--and there was stabling for a pair of horses. And by the time +he had finished with it, it was one of those characteristically +Australian houses which, added to wherever feasible, without a thought +for symmetry or design--a room built on here, a covered passage there, +a bathroom thrown out in an unexpected corner, with odd steps up and +down--have yet a spacious, straggling comfort all their own. + +How glad he was to leave the tiny, sunbaked box that till now had been +his home. It had had neither blind nor shutter; and, on his entering it +of a summer midday, it had sometimes struck hotter than outside. The +windows of his new room were fitted with green venetians; round the +verandah-posts twined respectively a banksia and a Japanese honey-suckle, +which further damped the glare; while on the patch of buffalo-grass +in front stood a spreading fig-tree, that leafed well and threw a +fine shade. He had also added a sofa to his equipment. Now, when he came +in tired or with a headache, he could stretch himself at full length. He +was lying on it at this moment. + +Polly, too, had reason to feel satisfied with the change. A handsome +little Broadwood, with a ruby-silk and carved-wood front, stood against +the wall of her drawing-room; gilt cornices surmounted the windows; and +from the centre of the ceiling hung a lustre-chandelier that was the +envy of every one who saw it: Mrs. Henry Ocock's was not a patch on it, +and yet had cost more. This time Mahony had virtually been able to give +his wife a free hand in her furnishing. And in her new spare room she +could put up no less than three guests! + +Of course, these luxuries had not all rained on them at once. Several +months passed before Polly, on the threshold of her parlour, could +exclaim, with an artlessness that touched her husband deeply: "Never in +my life did I think I should have such a beautiful room!" Still, as +regarded money, the whole year had been a steady ascent. The nest-egg he +had left with the lawyer had served its purpose of chaining that old +hen, Fortune, to the spot. Ocock had invested and re-invested on his +behalf--now it was twenty "Koh-i-noors," now thirty "Consolidated +Beehives"--and Mahony was continually being agreeably surprised by the +margins it threw off in its metamorphoses. That came of his having +placed the matter in such competent hands. The lawyer had, for instance, +got him finally out of "Porepunkahs" in the nick of time--the reef had +not proved as open to the day as was expected--and pulled him off, in +the process, another three hundred odd. Compared with Ocock's own +takings, of course, his was a modest spoil; the lawyer had made a +fortune, and was now one of the wealthiest men in Ballarat. He had built +not only new and handsome offices on the crest of the hill, but also, +prior to his marriage, a fine dwelling-house standing in extensive +grounds on the farther side of Yuille's Swamp. Altogether it had been a +year of great and sweeping changes. People had gone up, gone down--had +changed places like children at a game of General Post. More than one of +Mahony's acquaintances had burnt his fingers. On the other hand, old +Devine, Polly's one-time market-gardener, had made his thousands. There +was actually talk of his standing for Parliament, in which case his wife +bid fair to be received at Government House. And the pair of them with +hardly an "h" between them! + +From the sofa where he lay, Mahony could hear the murmur of his wife's +even voice. Polly sat the further end of the verandah talking to Jinny, +who dandled her babe in a rocking-chair that made a light tip-tap as it +went to and fro. Jinny said nothing: she was no doubt sunk in adoration +of her--or rather John's--infant; and Mahony all but dozed off, under +the full, round tones he knew so well. + +In his case the saying had once more been verified: to him that hath +shall be given. Whether it was due to the better position of the new +house; or to the fact that easier circumstances gave people more leisure +to think of their ailments; or merely that money attracted money: +whatever the cause, his practice had of late made giant strides. He was +in demand for consultations; sat on several committees; while a couple +of lodges had come his way as good as unsought. + +Against this he had one piece of ill-luck to set. At the close of the +summer, when the hot winds were in blast, he had gone down under the +worst attack of dysentery he had had since the early days. He really +thought this time all was over with him. For six weeks, in spite of the +tenderest nursing, he had lain prostrate, and as soon as he could bear +the journey had to prescribe himself a change to the seaside. The +bracing air of Queenscliff soon picked him up; he had, thank God, a +marvellous faculty of recuperation: while others were still not done +pitying him, he was himself again, and well enough to take the daily +plunge in the Sea that was one of his dearest pleasures.--To feel the +warm, stinging fluid lap him round, after all these drewthy years of +dust and heat! He could not have enough of it, and stayed so long in the +water that his wife, sitting at a decent distance from the Bathing +Enclosure, grew anxious, and agitated her little white parasol. + +"There's nothing to equal it, Mary, this side Heaven!" he declared as he +rejoined her, his towel about his neck. "I wish I could persuade you to +try a dip, my dear." + +But Mary preferred to sit quietly on the beach. "The dressing and +undressing is such a trouble," said she. As it was, one of her +elastic-sides was full of sand. + +Yes, Polly was Mary now, and had been, since the day Ned turned up again +on Ballarat, accompanied by a wife and child. Mary was in Melbourne at +the time, at John's nuptials; Mahony had opened the door himself to +Ned's knock; and there, in a spring-cart, sat the frowsy, red-haired +woman who was come to steal his wife's name from her. This invasion was +the direct result of his impulsive generosity. Had he only kept his +money in his pocket! + +He had been forced to take the trio in and give them house-room. But he +bore the storming of his hard-won privacy with a bad grace, and Mary had +much to gloss over on her return. + +She had been greatly distressed by her favourite brother's ill-considered +marriage. For, if they had not held Jinny to be John's equal, +what WAS to be said of Ned's choice? Mrs. Ned had lived among the mining +population of Castlemaine, where her father kept a public-house; and, +said Richard, her manners were accordingly: loud, slap-dash, familiar-- +before she had been twenty-four hours under his roof she was bluntly +addressing him as "Mahony." There was also a peculiar streak of +touchiness in her nature ("Goes with hair of that colour, my dear!") +which rendered her extremely hard to deal with. She had, it seemed, +opposed the idea of moving to Ballarat--that was all in her favour, +said Mary--and came primed to detect a snub or a slight at every turn. +This morbid suspiciousness it was that led Mary to yield her rights in +the matter of the name: the confusion between them was never-ending; +and, at the first hint that the change would come gracefully from her, +Mrs. Ned had flown into a passion. + +"It's all the same to me, Richard, what I'm called," Mary soothed him. +"And don't you think Polly was beginning to sound RATHER childish, now +I'm nearly twenty-four?" + +But: "Oh, what COULD Ned have seen in her?" she sighed to herself +dismayed. For Mrs. Ned was at least ten years older than her husband; +and whatever affection might originally have existed between them was +now a thing of the past She tyrannised mercilessly over him, nagging at +him till Ned, who was nothing if not good-natured, turned sullen and +left off tossing his child in the air. + +"We must just make the best of it, Richard," said Mary. "After all, +she's really fond of the baby. And when the second comes. . . you'll +attend her yourself, won't you, dear? I think somehow her temper may +improve when that's over." + +For this was another thing: Mrs. Ned had arrived there in a condition +that raised distressing doubts in Mary as to the dates of Ned's marriage +and the birth of his first child. She did not breathe them to Richard; +for it seemed to her only to make matters of this kind worse, openly to +speak of them. She devoted herself to getting the little family under a +roof of its own. Through Richard's influence Ned obtained a clerkship in +a carrying-agency, which would just keep his head above water; and she +found a tiny, three-roomed house that was near enough to let her be +daily with her sister-in-law when the latter's time came. Meanwhile, she +cut out and helped to sew a complete little outfit ("What she had before +was no better than rags!"); and Mrs. Ned soon learned to know on whom +she could lean and to whom she might turn, not only for practical aid, +but also for a never failing sympathy in what she called her "troubles." + +"I vow your Mary's the kindest-hearted little soul it's ever been me +luck to run across," she averred one day to Mahony, who was visiting her +professionally. "So common-sense, too--no nonsense about HER! I +shouldn't have thought a gaby like Ned could have sported such trump of +a sister." + +"Another pensioner for your CARITAS, dear," said Mahony, in passing on +the verdict. What he did not grieve his wife by repeating were certain +bad reports of Ned lately brought him by Jerry. According to Jerry--and +the boy's word was to be relied on--Ned had kept loose company in +Castlemaine, and had acquired the habit of taking more than was good for +him. Did he not speedily amend his ways, there would be small chance of +him remaining in his present post. + +Here, Mahony was effectually roused by a stir on the verandah. Jinny had +entered the house to lay down her sleeping babe, and a third voice, +Purdy's, became audible. The wife had evidently brought out a bottle of +her famous home-brewed gingerbeer: he heard the cork pop, the drip of +the overflow on the boards, the clink of the empty glass; and Purdy's +warm words of appreciation. + +Then there was silence. Rising from the sofa, Mahony inserted himself +between blind and window, and peeped out. + +His first thought was: what a picture! Mary wore a pale pink cotton gown +which, over the light swellings of her crinoline, bulged and billowed +round her, and generously swept the ground. Collar and cuffs of spotless +lawn outlined neck and wrists. She bent low over her stitching, and the +straight white parting of her hair intensified the ebony of the glossy +bands. Her broad pure forehead had neither line nor stain. On the +trellis behind her a vine hung laden with massy bunches of muscatelles. + +Purdy sat on the edge of the verandah, with his back to Mahony. Between +thumb and forefinger he idly swung a pair of scissors. + +Urged by some occult sympathy, Mary at once glanced up and discovered +her husband. Her face was lightly flushed from stooping--and the least +touch of colour was enough to give its delicate ivory an appearance of +vivid health. She had grown fuller of late--quite fat, said Richard, +when he wished to tease her: a luxuriant young womanliness lay over and +about her. Now, above the pale wild-rose of her cheeks her black eyes +danced with a mischievous glee; for she believed her husband intended +swinging his leg noiselessly over the sill and creeping up to startle +Purdy--and this appealed to her sense of humour. But, as he remained +standing at the window, she just smiled slyly, satisfied to be in +communion with him over their unsuspecting friend's head. + +Here, however, Purdy brought his eyes back from the garden, and she +abruptly dropped hers to her needlework. + +The scissors were shut with a snap, and thrown, rather than laid, to the +other implements in the workbox. "One 'ud think you were paid to finish +that wretched sewing in a fixed time, Polly," said Purdy cantankerously. +"Haven't you got a word to say?" + +"It's for the Dorcas Society. They're having a sale of work." + +"Oh, damn Dorcases! You're always slaving for somebody. You'll ruin your +eyes. I wonder Dick allows it. I shouldn't--I know that." + +The peal of laughter that greeted these words came equally from husband +and wife. Then: "What the dickens does it matter to you, sir, how much +sewing my wife chooses to do?" cried Mahony, and, still laughing, +stepped out of the window. + +"Hello!--you there?" said Purdy and rose to his feet. "What a beastly +fright to give one!" He looked red and sulky. + +"I scored that time, my boy!" and linking his arm in Mary's, Mahony +confronted his friend. "Afraid I'm neglecting my duties, are you? +Letting this young woman spoil her eyes?--Turn 'em on him, my love, in +all their splendour, that he may judge for himself." + +"Nonsense, Richard," said Mary softly, but with an affectionate squeeze +of his arm. + +"Well, ta-ta, I'm off!" said Purdy. And as Mahony still continued to +quiz him, he added in a downright surly tone: "Just the same old Dick as +ever! Blinder than any bat to all that doesn't concern yourself! I'll +eat my hat if it's ever entered your noddle that Polly's quite the +prettiest woman on Ballarat." + +"Don't listen to him, Richard, please!" and: "Don't let your head be +turned by such fulsome flattery, my dear!" were wife and husband's +simultaneous exclamations. + +"I shouldn't think so," said Mary sturdily, and would have added more, +but just at this minute Jinny came out of the house, with the peculiar +noiseless tread she had acquired in moving round an infant's crib; and +Purdy vanished. + +Jinny gazed at her sister-in-law with such meaning--that Mary could not +but respond. + +"Did you get her safely laid down, dear?" + +"Perfectly, Mary! Without even the quiver of an eyelash. You recollect, +I told you yesterday when her little head touched the pillow, she opened +her eyes and looked at me. To-day there was nothing of that sort. It was +quite perfect"; and Jinny's voice thrilled at the remembrance: it was as +if, in continuing to sleep during the transit, her--or rather John's-- +tiny daughter had proved herself a marvellous sagacity. + +Mahony gave an impatient shrug in Jinny's direction. But he, too, had to +stand fire: she had been waiting all day for a word with him. The babe, +who was teething, was plagued by various disorders; and Jinny knew each +fresh pin's-head of a spot that joined the rash. + +Mahony made light of her fears; then turning to his wife asked her to +hurry on the six-o'clock dinner: he had to see a patient between that +meal and tea. Mary went to make arrangements--Richard always forgot to +mention such things till the last moment--and also to please Jinny by +paying a visit to the baby. + +"The angels can't look very different when they sleep, I think," +murmured its mother, hanging over the couch. + +When Mary returned, she found her husband picking caterpillars off the +vine: Long Jim, odd man now about house and garden, was not industrious +enough to keep the pests under. In this brief spell of leisure--such +moments grew ever rarer in Richard's life--husband and wife locked +their arms and paced slowly up and down the verandah. It was late +afternoon on a breathless, pale-skied February day; and the boards of +the flooring gritted with sandy dust beneath their feet. + +"He WAS grumpy this afternoon, wasn't he?" said Mary, without preamble. +"But I've noticed once or twice lately that he can't take a joke any +more. He's grown queer altogether. Do you know he's the only person who +still persists in calling me by my old name? He was quite rude about it +when I asked him why. Perhaps he's liverish, from the heat. It might be +a good thing, dear, if you went round and overhauled him. Somehow, it +seems unnatural for Purdy to be bad-tempered." + +"It's true he may be a bit out of sorts. But I fear the evil's +deeper-seated. It's my opinion the boy is tiring of regular work. Now that +he hasn't even the excitement of the gold-escort to look forward to. . . . +And he's been a rolling stone from the beginning, you know." + +"If only he would marry and settle down! I do wish I could find a wife +for him. The right woman could make anything of Purdy"; and yet once +more Mary fruitlessly scanned, in thought, the lists of her +acquaintance. + +"What if it's a case of sour grapes, love? Since the prettiest woman on +Ballarat is no longer free. . . ." + +"Oh, Richard, hush! Such foolish talk!" + +"But is it? . . . let me look at her. Well, if not the prettiest, at +least a very pretty person indeed. It certainly becomes you to be +stouter, wife." + +But Mary had not an atom of vanity in her. "Speaking of prettiness +reminds me of something that happened at the Races last week--I forgot +to tell you, at the time. There were two gentlemen there from Melbourne; +and as Agnes Ocock went past, one of them said out loud: 'Gad! That's a +lovely woman.' Agnes heard it herself, and was most distressed. And the +whole day, wherever she went, they kept their field-glasses on her. Mr. +Henry was furious." + +"If you'll allow me to say so, my dear, Mrs. Henry cannot hold a candle +to some one I know--to my mind, at least." + +"If I suit you, Richard, that's all I care about." + +"Well, to come back to what we were saying. My advice is, give Master +Purdy a taste of the cold shoulder the next time he comes hanging about +the house. Let him see his ill-temper didn't pass unnoticed. There's no +excuse for it. God bless me! doesn't he sleep the whole night through in +his bed?"--and Mahony's tone took on an edge. The broken nights that +were nowadays the rule with himself were the main drawbacks to his +prosperity. He had never been a really good sleeper; and, in +consequence, was one of those people who feel an intense need for sleep, +and suffer under its curtailment. As things stood at present his rest +was wholly at the mercy of the night-bell--a remorseless instrument, +given chiefly to pealing just as he had managed to drop off. Its +gentlest tinkle was enough to rouse him--long before it had succeeded +in penetrating the ears of the groom, who was supposed to open. And when +it remained silent for a night, some trifling noise in the road would +simulate its jangle in his dreams. "It's a wonder I have any nerves +left," he grumbled, as the hot, red dawns crept in at the sides of the +bedroom-window. For the shortening of his sleep at one end did not mean +that he could make it up at the other. All that summer he had fallen +into the habit of waking at five o'clock, and not being able to doze off +again. The narrowest bar of light on the ceiling, the earliest twitter +of the sparrows was enough to strike him into full consciousness; and +Mary was hard put to it to darken the room and ensure silence; and would +be till the day came when he could knock off work and take a thorough +holiday. This he promised himself to do, before he was very much older. + + + + +Chapter II + +Mary sat with pencil and paper and wrinkled her brows. She was composing +a list, and every now and then, after an inward calculation, she lowered +the pencil to note such items as: three tipsy-cakes, four trifles, eight +jam-sandwiches. John Turnham had run up from Melbourne to fetch home +wife and child; and his relatives were giving a musical card-party in +his honour. By the window Jinny sat on a low ottoman suckling her babe, +and paying but scant heed to her sister-in-law's deliberations: to her +it seemed a much more important matter that the milk should flow +smoothly down the precious little throat, than that Mary's supper should +be a complete success. With her free hand she imprisoned the two little +feet, working one against the other in slow enjoyment; or followed the +warm little limbs up inside the swaddling, after the fashion of nursing +mothers. + +The two women were in the spare bedroom, which was dusk and cool and +dimity-white; and they exchanged remarks in a whisper; for the lids had +come down more than once on the big black eyes, and now only lifted +automatically from time to time, to send a last look of utter satiation +at the mother-face. Mary always said: "She'll drop off sooner indoors, +dear." But this was not the whole truth. Richard had hinted that he +considered the seclusion of the house better suited to the business of +nursing than the comparative publicity of the verandah; for Jinny was +too absorbed in her task to take thought for the proprieties. Here now +she sat--she had grown very big and full since her marriage in the +generous, wide-lapped pose of some old Madonna. + +Mary, thrown entirely on her own judgment, was just saying with +decision: "Well, better to err on the right side and have too much than +too little," and altering a four into a five, when steps came down the +passage and John entered the room. Jinny made him a sign, and John, now +Commissioner of Trade and Customs, advanced as lightly as could be +expected of a heavy, well-grown man. + +"Does she sleep?" he asked. + +His eyes had flown to the child; only in the second place did they rest +on his wife. At the sight of her free and easy bearing his face changed, +and he said stiffly: "I think, Jane, a little less exposure of your +person, my dear. . . ." + +Flushing to her hair-roots, Jinny began as hastily as she dared to +re-arrange her dress. + +Mary broke a lance on her behalf. "We were quite alone, John," she +reminded her brother. "Not expecting a visit from you." And added: +"Richard says it is high time Baby was weaned. Jinny is feeling the +strain." + +"As long as this rash continues I shall not permit it," answered John, +riding rough-shod over even Richard's opinion. ("I shouldn't agree to it +either, John dear," murmured Jinny.) "And now, Mary, a word with you +about the elder children. I understand that you are prepared to take +Emma back--is that so?" + +Yes, Mary was pleased to say Richard had consented to Trotty's return; +but he would not hear of her undertaking Johnny. At eleven years of age +the proper place for a boy, he said, was a Grammar School. With Trotty, +of course, it was different. "I always found her easy to manage, and +should be more than glad to have her"; and Mary meant what she said. Her +heart ached for John's motherless children. Jinny's interest in them had +lasted only so long as she had none of her own; and Mary, who being +childless had kept a large heart for all little ones, marvelled at the +firm determination to get rid of her stepchildren which her sister-in-law, +otherwise so pliable, displayed. + +Brother and sister talked things over, intuitively meeting half-way, +understanding each other with a word, as only blood relations can. +Jinny, the chief person concerned, sat meekly by, or chimed in merely to +echo her husband's views. + +"By the way, I ran into Richard on Specimen Hill," said John as he +turned to leave the room. "And he asked me to let you know that he would +not be home to lunch." + +"There. . . if that isn't always the way!" exclaimed Mary. "As sure as I +cook something he specially likes, he doesn't come in. Tilly sent me +over the loveliest little sucking-pig this morning. Richard would have +enjoyed it." + +"You should be proud, my dear Mary, that his services are in such +demand." + +"I am, John--no one could be prouder. But all the same I wish he could +manage to be a little more regular with his meals. It makes cooking so +difficult. To-morrow, because I shan't have a minute to spare, he'll be +home punctually, demanding something nice. But I warn you, to-morrow +you'll all have to picnic!" + +However, when the day came, she was better than her word, and looked to +it that neither guests nor husband went short. Since a couple of tables +on trestles took up the dining-room, John and Mahony lunched together in +the surgery; while Jinny's meal was spread on a tray and sent to her in +the bedroom. Mary herself had time only to snatch a bite standing. From +early morning on, tied up in a voluminous apron, she was cooking in the +kitchen, very hot and floury and preoccupied, drawing grating shelves +out of the oven, greasing tins and patty-pans, dredging flour. The +click-clack of egg-beating resounded continuously; and mountains of +sponge-cakes of all shapes and sizes rose under her hands. This would be +the largest, most ambitious party she had ever given--the guests +expected numbered between twenty and thirty, and had, besides, carte +blanche to bring with them anyone who happened to be staying with them-- +and it would be a disgrace under which Mary, reared in Mrs. Beamish's +school, could never again have held up her head, had a single article on +her supper-table run short. + +In all this she had only such help as her one maidservant could give her +--John had expressly forbidden Jinny the kitchen. True, during the +morning Miss Amelia Ocock, a gentle little elderly body with a harmless +smile and a prominent jaw, who was now an inmate of her father's house, +together with Zara, returned from England and a visitor at the Ocock's-- +these two walked over to offer their aid in setting the tables. But Miss +Amelia, fluttery and undecided as a bird, was far too timid to do +herself justice; and Zara spent so long arranging the flowers in the +central epergnes that before she had finished with one of them it was +lunch time. + +"I could have done it myself while she was cutting the stalks," Mary +told her husband. "But Zara hasn't really been any good at flowers since +her 'mixed bouquet' took first prize at the Flower Show. Of course, +though, it looks lovely now it's done." + +Purdy dropped in during the afternoon and was more useful; he sliced the +crusts off loaf-high mounds of sandwiches, and tested the strength and +flavour of the claret-cup. Mary could not make up her mind, when it came +to the point, to follow Richard's advice and treat him coldly. She did, +however, tell him that his help would be worth a great deal more to her +if he talked less and did not always look for an answer to what he said. +But Purdy was not to be quashed. He had taken it into his head that she +was badly treated, in being left "to slave" alone, within the oven's +radius; and he was very hard on Jinny, whom he had espied comfortably +dandling her child on the front verandah. "I'd like to wring the +bloomin' kid's neck!" + +"Purdy, for shame!" cried Mary outraged. "It's easy to see you're still +a bachelor. Just wait, sir, till you have children of your own!" + +Under her guidance he bore stacks of plates across the yard to the +dining-room--where the blinds were lowered to keep the room cool--and +strewed these, and corresponding knives and forks, up and down the +tables. He also carried over the heavy soup-tureen in which was the +claret-cup. But he had a man's slippery fingers, and, between these and +his limp, Mary trembled for the fate of her crockery. He made her laugh, +too, and distracted her attention; and she was glad when it was time for +him to return to barracks. + +"Now come early to-night," she admonished him. "And mind you bring your +music. Miss Amelia's been practising up that duet all the week. She'll +be most disappointed if you don't ask her to sing with you." + +On the threshold of the kitchen Purdy set his fingers to his nose in the +probable direction of Miss Amelia; then performed some skittish female +twists and turns about the yard. "So hoarse, love . . . a bad cold . . . +not in voice!" Mary laughed afresh, and ordered him off. + +But when he had gone she looked grave, and out of an oddly disquieting +feeling said to herself: "I do hope he'll be on his best behaviour +to-night, and not tread on Richard's toes." + +As it was, she had to inform her husband of something that she knew +would displease him. John had come back in the course of the afternoon +and announced, without ceremony, that he had extended an invitation to +the Devines for the evening. + +"It's quite true what's being said, dear," Mary strove to soothe +Richard, as she helped him make a hasty toilet in the bathroom. "Mr. +Devine is going to stand for Parliament; and he has promised his +support, if he gets in, to some measure John has at heart. John wants to +have a long talk with him to-night." + +But Richard was exceedingly put out. "Well, I hope, my dear, that as +it's your brother who has taken such a liberty, YOU'LL explain the +situation to your guests. I certainly shall not. But I do know there was +no need to exclude Ned and Polly from such an omnium-gatherum as this +party of yours will be." + +Even while he spoke there came a rat-a-tat at the front door, and Mary +had to hurry off. And now knock succeeded knock with the briefest of +intervals, the noise carrying far in the quiet street. Mysteriously +bunched-up figures, their heads veiled in the fleeciest of clouds, were +piloted along the passage; and: "I HOPE we are not the first!" was +murmured by each new-comer in turn. The gentlemen went to change their +boots on the back verandah; the ladies to lay off their wraps in Mary's +bedroom. And soon this room was filled to overflowing with the large +soft abundance of crinoline; hoops swaying from this side to that, as +the guests gave place to one another before the looking-glass, where +bands of hair were smoothed and the catches of bracelets snapped. +Music-cases lay strewn over the counterpane; the husbands who lined up in +the passage, to wait for their wives, also bearing rolls of music. Mary, +in black silk with a large cameo brooch at her throat, and only a delicate +pink on her cheeks to tell of all her labours, moved helpfully to and +fro, offering a shoe-horn, a hand-mirror, pins and hairpins. She was +caught, as she passed Mrs. Henry Ocock, a modishly late arrival, by that +lady's plump white hand, and a whispered request to be allowed to retain +her mantle. "Henry was really against my coming, dearest. So +anxious . . . so absurdly anxious!" + +"And pray where's the Honourable Mrs. T. to-night?" inquired "old Mrs. +Ocock," rustling up to them: Tilly was the biggest and most handsomely +dressed woman in the room. "On her knees worshipping, I bet you, up to +the last minute! Or else not allowed to show her nose till the +Honourable John's got his studs in.--Now then, girls, how much longer +are you going to stand preening and prinking?" + +The "girls" were Zara, at this present a trifle PASSEE, and Miss Amelia, +who was still further from her prime; and gathering the two into her +train, as a hen does its chickens, Tilly swept them off to face the +ordeal of the gentlemen and the drawing-room. + +Mary and Agnes brought up the rear. Mr. Henry was on the watch, and +directly his wife appeared wheeled forward the best armchair and placed +her in it, with a footstool under her feet. Mary planted Jinny next her +and left them to their talk of nurseries: for Richard's sake she wished +to screen Agnes from the vulgarities of Mrs. Devine. Herself she saw +with dismay, on entering, that Richard had already been pounced on by +the husband: there he stood, listening to his ex-greengrocer's words-- +they were interlarded with many an awkward and familiar gesture--on his +face an expression his wife knew well, while one small, impatient hand +tugged at his whiskers. + +But "old Mrs. Ocock" came to his rescue, bearing down upon him with an +outstretched hand, and a howdee-do that could be heard all over the +room: Tilly had long forgotten that she had ever borne him a grudge; she +it was who could now afford to patronise. "I hope I see you well, +doctor?--Oh, not a bit of it. . . . I left him at 'ome. Mr. O. has +something wrong, if you please, with his leg or his big toe--gout or +rheumatiz or something of that sort--and 'e's been so crabby with it +for the last day or so that to-night I said to 'im: 'No, my dear, you'll +just take a glass of hot toddy, and go early and comfortable to your +bed.' Musical parties aren't in his line anyhow." + +A lively clatter of tongues filled the room, the space of which was +taxed to its utmost: there were present, besides the friends and +intimates of the house, several of Mahony's colleagues, a couple of Bank +Managers, the Police Magistrate, the Postmaster, the Town Clerk, all +with their ladies. Before long, however, ominous pauses began to break +up the conversation, and Mary was accomplished hostess enough to know +what these meant. At a sign from her, Jerry lighted the candles on the +piano, and thereupon a fugue-like chorus went up: "Mrs. Mahony, won't +you play something?--Oh, do!--Yes, please, do. . . . I should enjoy it +so much." + +Mary did not wait to be pressed; it was her business to set the ball +rolling; and she stood up and went to the piano as unconcernedly as she +would have gone to sweep a room or make a bed. + +Placing a piece of music on the rack, she turned down the corners of the +leaves. But here Archdeacon Long's handsome, weatherbeaten face looked +over her shoulder. "I hope you're going to give us the cannons, Mrs. +Mahony?" he said genially. And so Mary obliged him by laying aside the +MORCEAU she had chosen, and setting up instead a "battle-piece," that +was a general favourite. + +"Aha! that's the ticket," said Henry Ocock, and rubbed his hands as Mary +struck up, pianissimo, the march that told of the enemy's approach. + +And: "Boompity-boomp-boomp-boomp!" Archdeacon Long could not refrain +from underlining each fresh salvo of artillery; while: "That's a breach +in their walls for 'em!" was Chinnery of the London Chartered's +contribution to the stock of fun. + +Mahony stood on the hearthrug and surveyed the assembly. His eyes fled +Mrs. Devine, most unfortunately perched on an ottoman in the middle of +the room, where she sat, purple, shiny and beaming, two hot, fat, red +hands clasped over her stomach ("Like a heathen idol! Confound the +woman! I shall have to go and do the polite to her"), and sought Mary at +the piano, hanging with pleasure on the slim form in the rich silk +dress. This caught numberless lights from the candles, as did also the +wings of her glossy hair. He watched, with a kind of amused tenderness, +how at each forte passage head and shoulders took their share of lending +force to the tones. He never greatly enjoyed Mary's playing. She did +well enough at it, God bless her!--it would not have been Mary if she +hadn't--but he came of a musical family; his mother had sung Handel +faultlessly in her day, besides having a mastery of several instruments: +and he was apt to be critical. Mary's firm, capable hands looked out of +place on a piano; seemed to stand in a sheerly business relation to the +keys. Nor was it otherwise with her singing: she had a fair contralto, +but her ear was at fault; and he sometimes found himself swallowing +nervously when she attacked high notes. + +"Oh, doctor! your wife DO play the pianner lovely," said Mrs. Devine, +and her fat front rose and fell in an ecstatic sigh. + +"Richard dear, will you come?" Mary laid her hands on his shoulder: +their guests were clamouring for a DUO. Her touch was a caress: here he +was, making himself as pleasant as he knew how, to this old woman. When +it came to doing a kindness, you could rely on Richard; he was all bark +and no bite. + +Husband and wife blended their voices--Mary had been at considerable +pains to get up her part--and then Richard went on to a solo. He had a +clear, true tenor that was very agreeable to hear; and Mary felt quite +proud of his attainments. Later in the evening he might be persuaded to +give them a reading from Boz, or a recitation. At that kind of thing, he +had not his equal. + +But first there was a cry for his flute; and in vain did Mahony protest +that weeks had elapsed since he last screwed the instrument together. He +got no quarter, even from Mary--but then Mary was one of those +inconvenient people to whom it mattered not a jot what a fool you made +of yourself, as long as you did what was asked of you. And so, from +memory and unaccompanied, he played them the old familiar air of THE +MINSTREL BOY. The theme, in his rendering, was overlaid by florid +variations and cumbered with senseless repetitions; but, none the less, +the wild, wistful melody went home, touching even those who were not +musical to thoughtfulness and retrospect. The most obstinate chatterers, +whom neither sham battles nor Balfe and Blockley had silenced, held +their tongues; and Mrs. Devine openly wiped her eyes. + +O, THE MINSTREL BOY TO THE WARS HAS GONE! +IN THE RANKS OF DEATH YOU'LL FIND HIM. + +While it was proceeding, Mary found herself seated next John. John +tapped his foot in time to the tune; and under cover of the applause at +its close remarked abruptly: "You should fatten Richard up a bit, Mary. +He could stand it." + +From where they sat they had Richard in profile, and Mary studied her +husband critically, her head a little on one side. "Yes, he IS rather +thin. But I don't think he was ever meant to be fat." + +"Ah well! we are none of us as young as we used to be," was John's +tribute to the power of music. And throwing out his stomach, he leaned +back in his chair and plugged the armholes of his vest with his thumbs. + +And now, after due pressing on the part of host and hostess, the other +members of the company advanced upon the piano, either singly or in +couples, to bear a hand in the burden of entertainment. Their seeming +reluctance had no basis in fact; for it was an unwritten law that every +one who could must add his mite; and only those who literally had "not a +note of music in them" were exempt. Tilly took a mischievous pleasure in +announcing bluntly: "So sorry, my dear, not to be able to do you a +tool-de-rool! But when the Honourable Mrs. T. and I were nippers we'd no +time to loll round pianos, nor any pianos to loll round!"--this, just to +see her brother-in-law's dark scowl; for no love--not even a liking--was +lost between her and John. But with this handful of exceptions all nobly +toed the line. Ladies with the tiniest reeds of voices, which shook like +reeds, warbled of Last Roses and Prairie Flowers; others, with more +force but due decorum, cried to Willie that they had Missed Him, or +coyly confessed to the presence of Silver Threads Among the Gold; and +Mrs. Chinnery, an old-young woman with a long, lean neck, which she +twisted this way and that in the exertion of producing her notes, +declared her love for an Old Armchair. The gentlemen, in baritones and +profundos, told the amorous adventures of Ben Bolt; or desired to know +what Home would be Without a Mother. Purdy spiced the hour with a comic +song, and in the character of an outraged wife tickled the risibility of +the ladies. + +WELL, WELL, SIR, SO YOU'VE COME AT LAST! +I THOUGHT YOU'D COME NO MORE. +I'VE WAITED, WITH MY BONNET ON, +FROM ONE TILL HALF-PAST FOUR! + +Zara and Mrs. Long both produced HOME THEY BROUGHT HER WARRIOR DEAD! +from their portfolios; so Zara good-naturedly gave way and struck up +ROBERT, TOI QUE J'AIME! which she had added to her repertory while in +England. No one could understand a word of what she sang; but the mere +fitting of the foreign syllables to the appropriate notes was considered +a feat in itself, and corroborative of the high gifts Zara possessed. + +Strenuous efforts were needed to get Miss Amelia to her feet. She was +dying, as Mary knew, to perform her duet with Purdy; but when the moment +came she put forward so many reasons for not complying that most people +retired in despair. It took Mary to persevere. And finally the little +woman was persuaded to the piano, where, red with gratification, she sat +down, spread her skirts and unclasped her bracelets. + +"Poor little Amelia!" said Mary to herself, as she listened to a +romantic ballad in which Purdy, in the character of a high-minded +nobleman, sought the hand of a virtuous gipsy-maid. "And he doesn't give +her a second thought. If one could just tell her not to be so silly!" + +Not only had Purdy never once looked near Amelia--for the most part he +had sat rather mum-chance, half-way in and out of a French window, even +Zara's attempts to enliven him falling flat--but, during an extra loud +performance, Tilly had confided to Mary the family's plans for their +spinster relative. And: "The poor little woman!" thought Mary again as +she listened. For, after having been tied for years to the sick bed of a +querulous mother; after braving the long sea-voyage, which for such a +timid soul was full of ambushes and terrors, Miss Amelia had reached her +journey's end only to find both father and brother comfortably wived, +and with no use for her. Neither of them wanted her. She had been given +house-room first by her father, then by the Henrys, and once more had +had to go back to the paternal roof. + +"It was nothing for Mossieu Henry in the long run," was his stepmother's +comment. But she laughed good-humouredly as she said it; for, his first +wrath at her intrusion over, Henry had more or less become her friend; +and now maintained that it was not a bad thing for his old father to +have a sensible, managing woman behind him. Tilly had developed in many +ways since her marriage; and Henry and she mutually respected each +other's practical qualities. + +The upshot of the affair was, she now told Mary, that Miss Amelia's male +relatives had subscribed a dowry for her. "It was me that insisted Henry +should pay his share--him getting all the money 'e did with Agnes." And +Amelia was to be married off to--"Well, if you turn your head, my dear, +you'll see who. Back there, helping to hold up the doorpost." + +Under cover of Zara's roulades Mary cautiously looked round. It was +Henry's partner--young Grindle, now on the threshold of the thirties. +His side-whiskers a shade less flamboyant than of old, a heavy watch-chain +draped across his front, Grindle stood and lounged with his hands +in his pockets. + +Mary made round eyes. "Oh, but Tilly!. . . isn't it very risky? He's so +much younger than she is. Suppose she shouldn't be happy?" + +"That'll be all right, Mary, trust me. Only give 'er a handle to 'er +name, and Amelia 'ud be happy with any one. She hasn't THAT much +backbone in 'er. Besides, my dear, you think, she's over forty! Let her +take 'er chance and be thankful. It isn't every old maid 'ud get such an +offer." + +"And is . . . is HE agreeable?" asked Mary, still unconvinced. + +Tilly half closed her right eye and protruded the tip of her tongue. +"You could stake your last fiver on it, he is!" + +But now that portion of the entertainment devoted to art was at an end, +and the serious business of the evening began. Card-tables had been set +out--for loo, as for less hazardous games. In principle, Mahony +objected to the high play that was the order of the day; but if you +invited people to your house you could not ask them to screw their +points down from crowns to halfpence. They would have thanked you kindly +and have stayed at home. Here, at the loo-table places were eagerly +snapped up, Henry Ocock and his stepmother being among the first to +secure seats: both were keen, hard players, who invariably re-lined +their well-filled pockets. + +It would not have been the thing for either Mahony or his wife to take a +hand; several of the guests held aloof. John had buttonholed old Devine; +Jinny and Agnes were still lost in domesticities. Dear little Agnes had +grown so retiring of late, thought Mary; she quite avoided the society +of gentlemen, in which she had formerly taken such pleasure. Richard and +Archdeacon Long sat on the verandah, and in moving to and fro, Mary +caught a fragment of their talk: they were at the debatable question of +table-turning, and her mental comment was a motherly and amused: "That +Richard, who is so clever, can interest himself in such nonsense!" +Further on, Zara was giving Grindle an account of her voyage "home," and +ticking off the reasons that had led to her return. She sat across a +hammock, and daintily exposed a very neat ankle. "It was much too sleepy +and dull for ME! No, I've QUITE decided to spend the rest of my days in +the colony." + +Mrs. Devine was still perched on her ottoman. She beamed at her hostess. +"No, I dunno one card from another, dearie, and don' want to. Oh, my +dear, what a LOVELY party it 'as been, and 'ow well you've carried it +h'off!" + +Mary nodded and smiled; but with an air of abstraction. The climax of +her evening was fast approaching. Excusing herself, she slipped away and +went to cast a last eye over her supper-tables, up and down which +benches were ranged, borrowed from the Sunday School. To her surprise +she found herself followed by Mrs. Devine. + +"DO let me 'elp you, my dear, do, now! I feel that stiff and silly +sittin' stuck up there with me 'ands before me. And jes' send that young +feller about 'is business." + +So Purdy and his offers of assistance were returned with thanks to the +card-room, and Mrs. Devine pinned up her black silk front. But not till +she had freely vented her astonishment at the profusion of Mary's good +things. "'Ow DO you git 'em to rise so?--No, I never did! Fit for +Buckin'am Palace and Queen Victoria! And all by your little self, too.-- +My dear, I must give you a good 'UG!" + +Hence, when at twelve o'clock the company began to stream in, they found +Mrs. Devine installed behind the barricade of cups, saucers and glasses; +and she it was who dispensed tea and coffee and ladled out the claret-cup; +thus leaving Mary free to keep an argus eye on her visitors' +plates. At his entry Richard had raised expostulating eyebrows; but his +tongue of course was tied. And Mary made a lifelong friend. + +And now for the best part of an hour Mary's sandwiches, sausage-rolls +and meat-pies; her jam-rolls, pastries and lemon-sponges; her jellies, +custards and creams; her blanc and jaunemanges and whipped syllabubs; +her trifles, tipsy-cakes and charlotte-russes formed the theme of talk +and objects of attention. And though the ladies picked with becoming +daintiness, the gentlemen made up for their partners' deficiencies; and +there was none present who did not, in the shape of a hearty and +well-turned compliment, add yet another laurel to Mary's crown. + + + + +Chapter III + +It had struck two before the party began to break up. The first move +made, however, the guests left in batches, escorting one another to +their respective house-doors. The Henry Ococks' buggy had been in +waiting for some time, and Mrs. Henry's pretty head was drooping with +fatigue before Henry, who was in the vein, could tear himself from the +card-table. Mahony went to the front gate with them; then strolled with +the Longs to the corner of the road. + +He was in no hurry to retrace his steps. The air was balmy, after that +of the overcrowded rooms, and it was a fabulously beautiful night. The +earth lay steeped in moonshine, as in the light of a silver sun. Trees +and shrubs were patterned to their last leaf on the ground before them. +What odd mental twist made mortals choose rather to huddle indoors, by +puny candle-light, than to be abroad laving themselves in a splendour +such as this? + +Leaning his arms on the top rail of a fence, he looked across the slope +at the Flat, now hushed and still as the encampment of a sleeping army. +Beyond, the bush shimmered palely grey--in his younger years he had +been used, on a night like this when the moon sailed full and free, to +take his gun and go opossuming. Those two old woody gods, Warrenheip and +Buninyong, stood out more imposingly than by day; but the ranges seemed +to have retreated. The light lay upon them like a visible burden, +flattening their contours, filling up clefts and fissures with a milky +haze. + +"Good evening, doctor!" + +Spoken in his very ear, the words made him jump. He had been lost in +contemplation; and the address had a ghostly suddenness. But it was no +ghost that stood beside him--nor indeed was it a night for those +presences to be abroad whose element is the dark. + +Ill-pleased at the intrusion, he returned but a stiff nod: then, since +he could not in decency greet and leave-take in a breath, feigned to go +on for a minute with his study of the landscape. After which he said: +"Well, I must be moving. Good night to you." + +"So you're off your sleep, too, are you?" As often happens, the impulse +to speak was a joint one. The words collided. + +Instinctively Mahony shrank into himself; this familiar bracketing of +his person with another's was distasteful to him. Besides, the man who +had sprung up at his elbow bore a reputation that was none of the best. +The owner of a small chemist's shop on the Flat, he contrived to give +offence in sundry ways: he was irreligious--an infidel, his neighbours +had it--and of a Sabbath would scour his premises or hoe potatoes +rather than attend church or chapel. Though not a confirmed drunkard, he +had been seen to stagger in the street, and be unable to answer when +spoken to. Also, the woman with whom he lived was not generally believed +to be his lawful wife. Hence the public fought shy of his nostrums; and +it was a standing riddle how he managed to avoid putting up his +shutters. More nefarious practices no doubt, said the relentless VOX +POPULI.--Seen near at hand, he was a tall, haggard-looking fellow of +some forty years of age, the muscles on his neck standing out like those +of a skinny old horse. + +Here, his gratuitous assumption of a common bond drew a cold: "Pray, +what reason have you to think that?" from Mahony. And without waiting +for a reply he again said good night and turned to go. + +The man accepted the rebuff with a meekness that was painful to see. +"Thought, comin' on you like this, you were a case like my own. No +offence, I'm sure," he said humbly. It was evident he was well used to +getting the cold shoulder. Mahony stayed his steps. "What's the matter +with you?" he asked. "Aren't you well? There's a remedy to be found for +most ills under the sun." + +"Not for mine! The doctor isn't born or the drug discovered that could +cure me." + +The tone of bragging bitterness grated anew. Himself given to the vice +of overstatement, Mahony had small mercy on it in others. "Tut, tut!" +he deprecated. + +There was a brief silence before the speaker went on more quietly: +"You're a young man, doctor, I'm an old one." And he looked old as he +spoke; Mahony saw that he had erred in putting him down as merely +elderly. He was old and grey and down-at-heel--fifty, if a day--and +his clothes hung loose on his bony frame. "You'll excuse me if I say I +know better'n you. When a man's done, he's done. And that's me. Yes,"-- +he grew inflated again in reciting his woes--"I'm one o' your hopeless +cases, just as surely as if I was being eaten up by a cancer or a +consumption. To mend me, you doctors 'ud need to start me afresh--from +the mother-egg." + +"You exaggerate, I'm sure." + +"It's that--knowin' one's played out, with by rights still a good third +of one's life to run--that's what puts the sleep away. In the daylight +it's none so hard to keep the black thoughts under; themselves they're +not so daresome; and there's one's pipe, and the haver o' the young fry. +But night's the time! Then they come tramplin' along, a whole army of +'em, carryin' banners with letters a dozen feet high, so's you shan't +miss rememberin' what you'd give your soul to forget. And so it'll go +on, et cetera and ad lib., till it pleases the old Joker who sits +grinnin' up aloft to put His heel down--as you or me would squash a +bull-ant or a scorpion." + +"You speak bitterly, Mr. Tangye. Does a night like this not bring you +calmer, clearer thoughts?" and Mahony waved his arm in a large, loose +gesture at the sky. + +His words passed unheeded. The man he addressed spun round and faced +him, with a rusty laugh. "Hark at that!" he cried. "Just hark at it! +Why, in all the years I've been in this God-forsaken place--long as +I've been here--I've never yet heard my own name properly spoken. +You're the first, doctor. You shall have the medal." + +"But, man alive, you surely don't let that worry you? Why, I've the same +thing to put up with every day of my life. I smile at it." And Mahony +believed what he said, forgetting, in the antagonism such spleen roused +in him, the annoyance the false stressing of his own name could +sometimes cause him. + +"So did I, once," said Tangye, and wagged his head. "But the day came +when it seemed the last straw; a bit o' mean spite on the part o' this +hell of a country itself." + +"You dislike the colony, it appears, intensely?" + +"You like it?" The counter question came tip for tap. + +"I can be fair to it, I hope, and appreciate its good sides." As always, +the mere hint of an injustice made Mahony passionately just. + +"Came 'ere of your own free will, did you? Weren't crowded out at home? +Or bamboozled by a pack o' lying tales?" Tangye's voice was husky with +eagerness. + +"That I won't say either. But it is entirely my own choice that I remain +here." + +"Well, I say to you, think twice of it! If you have the chance of +gettin' away, take it. It's no place this, doctor, for the likes of you +and me. Haven't you never turned and asked yourself what the devil you +were doin' here? And that reminds me. . . . There was a line we used to +have drummed into us at school--it's often come back to me since. +COELUM, NON ANIMUM, MUTANT, QUI TRANS MARE CURRUNT. In our green days we +gabbled that off by rote; then, it seemed just one more o' the eel-sleek +phrases the classics are full of. Now, I take off my hat to the man who +wrote it. He knew what he was talkin' about--by the Lord Harry, he +did!" + +The Latin had come out tentatively, with an odd, unused intonation. +Mahony's retort: "How on earth do you know what suits me and what +doesn't?" died on his lips. He was surprised into silence. There had +been nothing in the other's speech to show that he was a man of any +education--rather the reverse. + +Meanwhile Tangye went on: "I grant you it's an antiquated point o' view; +but doesn't that go to prove what I've been sayin'; that you and me are +old-fashioned, too--out-o'-place here, out-o'-date? The modern sort, +the sort that gets on in this country, is a prime hand at cuttin' his +coat to suit his cloth; for all that the stop-at-homes, like the writer +o' that line and other ancients, prate about the Ethiopian's hide or the +leopard and his spots. They didn't buy their experience dear, like we +did; didn't guess that if a man DON'T learn to fit himself in, when he +gets set down in such a land as this, he's a goner; any more'n they knew +that most o' those who hold out here--all of 'em at any rate who've +climbed the ladder, nabbed the plunder--have found no more difficulty +in changin' their spots than they have their trousers. Yes, doctor, +there's only one breed that flourishes, and you don't need me to tell +you which it is. Here they lie"--and he nodded to right and left of him +--"dreamin' o' their money-bags, and their dividends, and their profits, +and how they'll diddle and swindle one another afresh, soon as the sun +gets up to-morrow. Harder 'n nails they are, and sharp as needles. You +ask me why I do my walkin' out in the night-time? It's so's to avoid the +sight o' their mean little eyes, and their greedy, graspin' faces." + +Mahony's murmured disclaimer fell on deaf ears. Like one who had been +bottled up for months, Tangye flowed on. "What a life! What a set! What +a place to end one's days in! Remember, if you can, the yarns that were +spun round it for our benefit, from twenty thousand safe miles away. It +was the Land o' Promise and Plenty, topful o' gold, strewn over with +nuggets that only waited for hands to pick 'em up.--Lies!--lies from +beginnin' to end! I say to you this is the hardest and cruellest country +ever created, and a man like me's no more good here than the muck--the +parin's and stale fishguts and other leavin's--that knocks about a +harbour and washes against the walls. I'll tell you the only use I'll +have been here, doctor, when my end comes: I'll dung some bit o' land +for 'em with my moulder and rot. That's all. They'd do better with my +sort if they knocked us on the head betimes, and boiled us down for our +fat and marrow." + +Not much in that line to be got from YOUR carcase, my friend, thought +Mahony, with an inward smile. + +But Tangye had paused merely to draw breath. "What I say is, instead o' +layin' snares for us, it ought to be forbid by law to give men o' my +make ship room. At home in the old country we'd find our little nook, +and jog along decently to the end of our days. But just the staid, +respectable, orderly sort I belonged to's neither needed nor wanted +here. I fall to thinkin' sometimes on the fates of the hundreds of +honest, steady-goin' lads, who at one time or another have chucked up +their jobs over there--for this. The drink no doubt's took most: they +never knew before that one COULD sweat as you sweat here. And the rest? +Well, just accident . . . or the sun . . . or dysentery. . . or the +bloody toil that goes by the name o' work in these parts--you know the +list, doctor, better'n me. They say the waste o' life in a new country +can't be helped; doesn't matter; has to be. But that's cold comfort to +the wasted. No! I say to you, there ought to be an Act of Parliament to +prevent young fellows squanderin' themselves, throwin' away their lives +as I did mine. For when we're young, we're not sane. Youth's a fever o' +the brain. And I WAS young once, though you mightn't believe it; I had +straight joints, and no pouch under my chin, and my full share o' windy +hopes. Senseless truck these! To be spilled overboard bit by bit--like +on a hundred-mile tramp a new-chum finishes by pitchin' from his swag +all the needless rubbish he's started with. What's wanted to get on +here's somethin' quite else. Horny palms and costive bowels; more'n a +dash o' the sharper; and no sickly squeamishness about knockin' out +other men and steppin' into their shoes. And I was only an ordinary +young chap; not over-strong nor over-shrewd, but honest--honest, by God +I was! That didn't count. It even stood in my way. For I was too good +for this and too mealy-mouthed for that; and while I stuck, considerin' +the fairness of a job, some one who didn't care a damn whether it was +fair or not, walked in over my head and took it from me. There isn't +anything I haven't tried my luck at, and with everything it's been the +same. Nothin's prospered; the money wouldn't come--or stick if it did. +And so here I am--all that's left of me. It isn't much; and by and by a +few rank weeds 'ull spring from it, and old Joey there, who's paid to +grub round the graves, old Joey 'ull curse and say: a weedy fellow that, +a rotten, weedy blackguard; and spit on his hands and hoe, till the +weeds lie bleedin' their juices--the last heirs of me . . . the last +issue of my loins!" + +"Pray, does it never occur to you, you fool, that FLOWERS may spring +from you?" + +He had listened to Tangye's diatribe in a white heat of impatience. But +when he spoke he struck an easy tone--nor was he in any hesitation how +to reply: for that, he had played devil's advocate all too often with +himself in private. An unlovely country, yes, as Englishmen understood +beauty; and yet not without a charm of its own. An arduous life, +certainly, and one full of pitfalls for the weak or the unwary; yet he +believed it was no more impossible to win through here, and with clean +hands, than anywhere else. To generalise as his companion had done was +absurd. Preposterous, too, the notion that those of their fellow-townsmen +who had carried off the prizes owed their success to some +superiority in bodily strength . . . or sharp dealing . . . or thickness +of skin. With Mr. Tangye's permission he would cite himself as an +example. He was neither a very robust man, nor, he ventured to say, one +of any marked ability in the other two directions. Yet he had managed to +succeed without, in the process, sacrificing jot or tittle of his +principles; and to-day he held a position that any member of his +profession across the seas might envy him. + +"Yes, but till you got there!" cried Tangye. "Hasn't every superfluous +bit of you--every thought of interest that wasn't essential to the +daily grind--been pared off?" + +"If," said Mahony stiffening, "if what you mean by that is, have I +allowed my mind to grow narrow and sluggish, I can honestly answer no." + +In his heart he denied the charge even more warmly; for, as he spoke, he +saw the great cork-slabs on which hundreds of moths and butterflies made +dazzling spots of colour; saw the sheets of pink blotting-paper between +which his collection of native plants lay pressed; the glass case filled +with geological specimens; his Bible, the margins of which round Genesis +were black with his handwriting; a pile of books on the new marvel +Spiritualism; Colenso's PENTATEUCH; the big black volumes of the ARCANA +COELESTIA; Locke on Miracles: he saw all these things and more. "No, I'm +glad to say I have retained many interests outside my work." + +Tangye had taken off his spectacles and was polishing them on a crumpled +handkerchief. He seemed about to reply, even made a quick half-turn +towards Mahony; then thought better of it, and went on rubbing. A smile +played round his lips. + +"And in conclusion let me say this," went on Mahony, not unnettled by +his companion's expression. "It's sheer folly to talk about what life +makes of us. Life is not an active force. It's we who make what we will, +of life. And in order to shape it to the best of our powers, Mr. Tangye, +to put our brief span to the best possible use, we must never lose faith +in God or our fellow-men; never forget that, whatever happens, there is +a sky, with stars in it, above us." + +"Ah, there's a lot of bunkum talked about life," returned Tangye dryly, +and settled his glasses on his nose. "And as man gets near the end of +it, he sees just WHAT bunkum it is. Life's only got one meanin', doctor; +seen plain, there's only one object in everything we do; and that's to +keep a sound roof over our heads and a bite in our mouths--and in those +of the helpless creatures who depend on us. The rest has no more sense +or significance than a nigger's hammerin' on the tam-tam. The lucky one +o' this world don't grasp it; but we others do; and after all p'raps, +it's worth while havin' gone through it to have got at ONE bit of the +truth, however, small. Good night." + +He turned on his heel, and before his words were cold on the air had +vanished, leaving Mahony blankly staring. + +The moonshine still bathed the earth, gloriously untroubled by the +bitterness of human words and thoughts. But the night seemed to have +grown chilly; and Mahony gave an involuntary shiver. "Some one walking +over my . . . now what would that specimen have called it? Over the four +by eight my remains will one day manure!" + +"An odd, abusive, wrong-headed fellow," he mused, as he made his way +home. "Who would ever have thought, though, that the queer little +chemist had so much in him? A failure? . . . yes, he was right there; +and as unlovely as failures always are--at close quarters." But as he +laid his hands on the gate, he jerked up his head and exclaimed half +aloud: "God bless my soul! What he wanted was not argument or reason but +a little human sympathy." As usual, however, the flash of intuition came +too late. "For such a touchy nature I'm certainly extraordinarily obtuse +where the feelings of others are concerned," he told himself as he +hooked in the latch. + +"Why, Richard, where HAVE you been?" came Mary's clear voice--muted so +as not to disturb John and Jinny, who had retired to rest. Purdy and she +sat waiting on the verandah. "Were you called out? We've had time to +clear everything away. Here, dear, I saved you some sandwiches and a +glass of claret. I'm sure you didn't get any supper yourself, with +looking after other people." + +Long after Mary had fallen asleep he lay wakeful. His foolish blunder in +response to Tangye's appeal rankled in his mind. He could not get over +his insensitiveness. How he had boasted of his prosperity, his moral +nicety, his saving pursuits--he to boast!--when all that was asked of +him was a kindly: "My poor fellow soul, you have indeed fought a hard +fight; but there IS a God above us who will recompense you at His own +time, take the word for it of one who has also been through the Slough +of Despond." And then just these . . . these hobbies of his, of which he +had made so much. Now that he was alone with himself he saw them in a +very different light. Lepidoptera collected years since were still +unregistered, plants and stones unclassified; his poor efforts at +elucidating the Bible waited to be brought into line with the Higher +Criticism; Home's levitations and fire-tests called for investigation; +while the leaves of some of the books he had cited had never even been +cut. The mere thought of these things was provocative, rest-destroying. +To induce drowsiness he went methodically through the list of his +acquaintances, and sought to range them under one or other of Tangye's +headings. And over this there came moments when he lapsed into +depths . . . fetched himself up again--but with an effort . . . only to +fall back. . . . + +But he seemed barely to have closed his eyes when the night-bell rang. +In an instant he was on his feet in the middle of the room, applying +force to his sleep-cogged wits. + +He threw open the sash. "Who's there? What is it?" + +Henry Ocock's groom. "I was to fetch you out to our place at once, +governor." + +"But--Is Mrs. Henry taken ill?" + +"Not as I know of," said the man dryly. "But her and the boss had a bit +of a tiff on the way home, and Madam's excited-like." + +"And am I to pay for their tiffs?" muttered Mahony hotly. + +"Hush, Richard! He'll hear you," warned Mary, and sat up. + +"I shall decline to go. Henry's a regular old woman." + +Mary shook her head. "You can't afford to offend the Henrys. And you +know what he is so hasty. He'd call in some one else on the spot, and +you'd never get back. If only you hadn't stayed out so long, dear, +looking at the moon!" + +"Good God! Mary, is one never to have a moment to oneself? Never a +particle of pleasure or relaxation?" + +"Why, Richard!" expostulated his wife, and even felt a trifle ashamed of +his petulance. "What would you call to-night, I wonder? Wasn't the whole +evening one of pleasure and relaxation?" + +And Mahony, struggling into shirt and trousers, had to admit that he +would be hard put to it to give it another name. + + + + +Chapter IV + +Hush, dolly! Mustn't cry, and make a noise. Uncle Richard's cross. + +Trotty sat on a hassock and rocked a china babe, with all the +appurtenant mother-fuss she had picked up from the tending of her tiny +stepsister. The present Trotty was a demure little maid of some seven +summers, who gave the impression of having been rather rudely elongated. +Her flaxen hair was stiffly imprisoned behind a round black comb; and +her big blue eyes alone remained to her from a lovely infancy. ("Poor +Emma's eyes," said Mary.) + +Imitative as a monkey she went on--with a child's perfect knowledge +that it is all make-believe, yet with an entire credence in the power of +make-believe: "Naughty child--WILL you be quiet? There! You've frown +your counterpane off now. Wonder what next you'll do. I declare I'll +slap you soon--you make me so cross." + +Through the surgery-window the words floated out: "For goodness' sake, +don't bother me now with such trifles, Mary! It's not the moment--with +a whole string of people waiting in the other room." + +"Well, if only you'll be satisfied with what I do, dear, and not blame +me afterwards." + +"Get Purdy to give you a hand with Ned's affair. He has time and to +spare." And wetting his finger-tip Mahony nervously flipped over a dozen +pages of the book that lay open before him. + +"Well . . . if you think I should," said Mary, with a spice of doubt. + +"I do. And now go, wife, and remember to shut the door after you. Oh, +and tell that woman in the kitchen to stop singing. Her false notes +drive me crazy.--How many are there, this morning?" + +"Eight--no, nine, if that's another," replied Mary, with an ear to the +front door. + +"Tch! I'll have to stop then," and Mahony clapped to the work he had +been consulting. "Never a minute to keep abreast of the times." But: +"That's a good, helpful wife," as Mary stooped to kiss him. "Do the best +you can, mavourneen, and never mind me." + +"Take me with you, Auntie!" Trotty sprang up from her stool, overturning +babe and cradle. + +"Not to-day, darling. Besides, why are you here? You know I've forbidden +you to be on the front verandah when the patients come. Run away to the +back, and play there." + +Mary donned hat and shawl, opened her parasol and went out into the sun. +With the years she had developed into rather a stately young woman: she +held her head high and walked with a firm, free step. + +Her first visit was to the stable to find Long Jim--or Old Jim as they +now called him; for he was nearing the sixties. The notice to leave, +which he had given the day before, was one of the "trifles" it fell to +her to consider. Personally Mary thought his going would be no great +loss: he knew nothing about a garden, yet resented instruction; and it +had always been necessary to get outside help in for the horses. If he +went they could engage some one who would combine the posts. But Richard +had taken umbrage at the old man's tone; had even been nervously upset +over it. It behoved her to find out what the matter was. + +"I want a change," said Old Jim dourly in response to her inquiry; and +went on polishing wheel-spokes, and making the wheel fly. "I've bin 'ere +too long. An' now I've got a bit o' brass together, an' am thinkin' I'd +like to be me own master for a spell." + +"But at your age, Jim, is it wise?--to throw up a comfortable home, +just because you've laid a little past?" + +"It's enough to keep me. I turned over between four and five 'undred +last week in 'Piecrusts.'" + +"Oh!" said Mary, taken by surprise. "Then that--that's your only reason +for wishing to leave?" And as he did not reply, but went on swishing: +"Come, Jim, if you've anything on your mind, say it out. The doctor +didn't like the way you spoke to him last night." + +At this the old man straightened his back, took a straw from between his +teeth, spat and said: "Well, if you must know, Mrs. Mahony, the doctor's +not the boss it pleases me to be h'under any more--and that's the +trewth. I'm tired of it--dog-tired. You can slave yer 'ead off for 'im, +and 'e never notices a thing you do, h'or if 'e does, it's on'y to find +fault. It h'ain't 'uman, I say, and I'll be danged if I stand it h'any +longer." + +But people who came to Mary with criticism of Richard got no mercy. +"You're far too touchy, Jim. YOU know, if any one does, how rushed and +busy the doctor is, and you ought to be the first to make allowance for +him--after all he's done for you. You wouldn't be here now, if it +hadn't been for him. And then to expect him to notice and praise you for +every little job you do!" + +But Jim was stubborn. 'E didn't want to deny anything. But 'e'd rather +go. An' this day a week if it suited her. + +" It's really dreadful how uppish the lower classes get as soon as they +have a little money in their pocket," she said to herself, as she walked +the shadeless, sandy road. But this thought was like a shadow cast by +her husband's mind on hers, and was ousted by the more indigenous: "But +after all who can blame him, poor old fellow, for wanting to take life +easy if he has the chance." She even added: "He might have gone off, as +most of them do, without a word." + +Then her mind reverted to what he had said of Richard, and she pondered +the antagonism that had shown through his words. It was not the first +time she had run up against this spirit, but, as usual, she was at a +loss to explain it. Why should people of Old Jim's class dislike Richard +as they did?--find him so hard to get on with? He was invariably +considerate of them, and treated them very generously with regard to +money. And yet . . . for some reason or other they felt injured by him; +and thought and spoke of him with a kind of churlish resentment. She was +not clever enough to find the key to the riddle--it was no such simple +explanation as that he felt himself too good for them. That was not the +case: he was proud, certainly, but she had never known any one who-- +under, it was true, a rather sarcastic manner--was more broadly +tolerant of his fellow-men. And she wound up her soliloquy with the lame +admission: "Yes, in spite of all his kindness, I suppose he IS +queer . . . decidedly queer," and then she heaved a sigh. What a pity it +was! When you knew him to be, at heart, such a dear, good, well-meaning +man. + +A short walk brought her to the four-roomed cottage where Ned lived with +wife and children. Or had lived, till lately. He had been missing from +his home now for over a week. On the last occasion of his being in +Melbourne with the carrying-van, he had decamped, leaving the boy who +was with him to make the return journey alone. Since then, nothing could +be heard of him; and his billet in the Agency had been snapped up. + +"Or so they say!" said his wife, with an angry sniff. "I don't believe a +word of it, Mary. Since the railway's come, biz has gone to the dogs; +and they're only too glad to get the chance of sacking another man." + +Polly looked untidier than ever; she wore a slatternly wrapper, and her +hair was thrust unbrushed into its net. But she suffered, no doubt, in +her own way; she was red-eyed, and very hasty-handed with her nestful of +babes. Sitting in the cheerless parlour, Ned's dark-eyed eldest on her +knee, Mary strove to soothe and encourage. But: it has never been much +of a home for the poor boy was her private opinion; and she pressed her +cheek affectionately against the little black curly head that was a +replica of Ned's own. + +"What's goin' to become of us all, the Lord only knows," said Polly, +after having had the good cry the sympathetic presence of her +sister-in-law justified. "I'm not a brown cent troubled about Ned--only +boiling with 'im. 'E's off on the booze, sure enough--and 'e'll turn up +again, safe and sound, like loose fish always do. Wait till I catch 'im +though! He'll get it hot." + +"We never ought to have come here," she went on drying her eyes. "Drat +the place and all that's in it, that's what I say! He did better'n this +in Castlemaine; and I'd pa behind me there. But once Richard had sent +'im that twenty quid, he'd no rest till he got away. And I thought, when +he was so set on it, may be it'd have a good effect on 'im, to be near +you both. But that was just another shoot into the brown. You've been +A1, Mary; you've done your level best. But Richard's never treated Ned +fair. I don't want to take Ned's part; he's nothing in the world but a +pretty-faced noodle. But Richard's treated 'im as if he was the dirt +under 'is feet. And Ned's felt it. Oh, I know whose doing it was, we +were never asked up to the house when you'd company. It wasn't YOURS, my +dear! But we can't all have hyphens to our names, and go driving round +with kid gloves on our hands and our noses in the air." + +Mary felt quite depressed by this fresh attack on her husband. Reminding +herself, however, that Polly was excited and over-wrought, she did not +speak out the defence that leapt to her tongue. She said staunchly: "As +you put it, Polly, it does seem as if we haven't acted rightly towards +Ned. But it wasn't Richard's doing alone. I've been just as much to +blame as he has." + +She sat on, petting the fractious children and giving kindly assurances: +as long as she and Richard had anything themselves, Ned's wife and Ned's +children should not want: and as she spoke, she slipped a substantial +proof of her words into Polly's unproud hand. Besides, she believed +there was every chance now of Ned soon being restored to them; and she +told how they were going, that very morning, to invoke Mr. Smith's aid. +Mr. Smith was in the Police, as Polly knew, and had influential friends +among the Force in Melbourne. By to-morrow there might be good news to +bring her. + +Almost an hour had passed when she rose to leave. Mrs. Ned was so +grateful for the visit and the help that, out in the narrow little +passage, she threw her arms round Mary's neck and drew her to her bosom. +Holding her thus, after several hearty kisses, she said in a mysterious +whisper, with her lips close to Mary's ear: "Mary, love, may I say +something to you?" and the permission granted, went on: "That is, give +you a bit of a hint, dearie?" + +"Why, of course you may, Polly." + +"Sure you won't feel hurt, dear?" + +"Quite sure. What is it?" and Mary disengaged herself, that she might +look the speaker in the face. + +"Well, it's just this--you mentioned the name yourself, or I wouldn't +have dared. It's young Mr. Smith, Mary. My dear, in future don't you +have 'im quite so much about the house as you do at present. It ain't +the thing. People WILL talk, you know, if you give 'em a handle."("Oh, +but Polly!" in a blank voice from Mary.) "Now, now, I'm not blaming you +--not the least tiddly-wink. But there's no harm in being careful, is +there, love, if you don't want your name in people's mouths? I'm that +fond of you, Mary--you don't mind me speaking, dearie?" + +"No, Polly, I don't. But it's the greatest nonsense--I never heard such +a thing!" said Mary hotly. "Why, Purdy is Richard's oldest friend. They +were schoolboys together." + +"May be they were. But I hear 'e's mostly up at your place when +Richard's out. And you're a young and pretty woman, my dear; it's +Richard who ought to think of it, and he so much older than you. Well, +just take the hint, love. It comes best, don't it, from one of the +family?" + +But Mary left the house in a sad flurry; and even forgot for a street +length to open her parasol. + +Her first impulse was to go straight to Richard. But she had not covered +half a dozen yards before she saw that this would never do. At the best +of times Richard abominated gossip; and the fact of it having, in the +present case, dared to fasten its fangs in some one belonging to him +would make him doubly wroth. He might even try to find out who had +started the talk; and get himself into hot water over it. Or he might +want to lay all the blame on his own shoulders--make himself the +reproaches Ned's Polly had not spared him. Worse still, he would perhaps +accuse Purdy of inconsiderateness towards her, and fly into a rage with +him; and then the two of them would quarrel, which would be a thousand +pities. For though he often railed at Purdy, yet that was only Richard's +way: he was genuinely fond of him, and unbent to him as to nobody else. + +But these were just so many pretexts put forward to herself by Mary for +keeping silence; the real reason lay deeper. Eight years of married life +had left her, where certain subjects were concerned, with all the +modesty of her girlhood intact. There were things, indelicate things, +which COULD not be spoken out, even between husband and wife. For her to +have to step before Richard and say: some one else feels for me in the +same way as you, my husband, do, would make her ever after unable +frankly to meet his eyes. Besides giving the vague, cobwebby stuff a +body it did not deserve. + +But yet again this was not the whole truth: she had another, more +uncomfortable side of it to face; and the flies buzzed unheeded round +her head. The astonishment she had shown at her sister-in-law's warning +had not been altogether sincere. Far down in her heart Mary found a +faint, faint trace of complicity. For months past--she could admit it +now--she had not felt easy about Purdy. Something disagreeable, +disturbing, had crept into their relations. The jolly, brotherly manner +she liked so well had deserted him; besides short-tempered he had grown +deadly serious, and not the stupidest woman could fail altogether to see +what the matter was. But she had wilfully bandaged her eyes. And if, now +and then, some word or look had pierced her guard and disquieted her in +spite of herself, she had left it at an incredulous: "Oh, but +then. . . But even if. . . In that case. . . ." She now saw her fervent +hope had been that the affair would blow over without coming to anything; +prove to be just another passing fancy on the part of the unstable Purdy. +How many had she not assisted at! This very summer, for instance, a +charming young lady from Sydney had stayed with the Urquharts; and, as +long as her visit lasted, they had seen little or nothing of Purdy. +Whenever he got off duty he was at Yarangobilly. As it happened, however, +Mr. Urquhart himself had been so assiduous in taking his guest about that +Purdy had had small chance of making an impression. And, in looking back +on the incident, what now rose most clearly before Mary's mind was the +way in which Mrs. Urquhart--poor thing, she was never able to go +anywhere with her husband: either she had a child in arms or another +coming; the row of toddlers mounted up in steps--the way in which she +had said, with her pathetic smile: "Ah, my dear! Willie needs some one +gayer and stronger than I am, for company." Mary's heart had been full +of pity at the time, for her friend's lot; and it swelled again now at +the remembrance. + +But oh dear! this was straying from the point. Impatiently she jerked +her thoughts back to herself and her own dilemma. What ought she to do? +She was not a person who could sit still with folded hands and await +events. How would it be if she spoke to Purdy herself? . . . talked +seriously to him about his work? . . . tried to persuade him to leave +Ballarat. Did he mean to hang on here for ever, she would say--never +intend to seek promotion? But then again, the mere questioning would +cause a certain awkwardness. While, at the slightest trip or blunder on +her part, what was unsaid might suddenly find itself said; and the whole +thing cease to be the vague, cloudy affair it was at present. And though +she would actually rather this happened with regard to Purdy than +Richard, yet . . . yet. . . . + +Worried and perplexed, unable to see before her the straight plain path +she loved, Mary once more sighed from the bottom of her heart. + +"Oh if ONLY men wouldn't be so foolish!" + +Left to himself Mahony put away his books, washed his hands and summoned +one by one to his presence the people who waited in the adjoining room. +He drew a tooth, dressed a wounded wrist, prescribed for divers internal +disorders--all told, a baker's dozen of odd jobs. + +When the last patient had gone he propped open the door, wiped his +forehead and read the thermometer that hung on the wall: it marked 102 +degrees. Dejectedly he drove, in fancy, along the glaring, treeless roads, +inches deep in cinnamon-coloured dust. How one learnt to hate the sun out +here. What wouldn't he give for a cool, grey-green Irish day, with a wet +wind blowing in from the sea?--a day such as he had heedlessly squandered +hundreds of, in his youth. Now it made his mouth water only to think of +them. + +It still wanted ten minutes to ten o'clock and the buggy had not yet +come round. He would lie down and have five minutes' rest before +starting: he had been up most of the night, and on getting home had been +kept awake by neuralgia. + +When an hour later Mary reached home, she was amazed to find groom and +buggy still drawn up in front of the house. + +"Why, Molyneux, what's the matter? Where's the doctor?" + +"I'm sure I don't know, Mrs. Mahony. I've hollered to Biddy half a dozen +times, but she doesn't take any notice. And the mare's that +restless. . . . There, there, steady old girl, steady now! It's these damn +flies." + +Mary hurried indoors. "Why, Biddy. . . ." + +"Sure and it's yourself," said the big Irishwoman who now filled the +kitchen-billet. "Faith and though you scold me, Mrs. Mahony, I couldn't +bring it over me heart to wake him. The pore man's sleeping like a +saint." + +"Biddy, you ought to know better!" cried Mary peeling off her gloves. + +"It's pale as the dead he is." + +"Rubbish. It's only the reflection of the green blind. RICHARD! Do you +know what the time is?" + +But the first syllable of his name was enough. "Good Lord, Mary, I must +have dropped off. What the dickens. . . . Come, help me, wife. Why on +earth didn't those fools wake me?" + +Mary held his driving-coat, fetched hat and gloves, while he flung the +necessaries into his bag. "Have you much to do this morning? Oh, that +post-mortem's at twelve, isn't it?" + +"Yes; and a consultation with Munce at eleven--I'll just manage it and +no more," muttered Mahony with an eye on his watch. "I can't let the +mare take it easy this morning. Yes, a full day. And Henry Ocock's +fidgeting for a second opinion; thinks his wife's not making enough +progress. Well, ta-ta, sweetheart! Don't expect me back to lunch." And +taking a short cut across the lawn, he jumped into the buggy and off +they flew. + +Mary's thoughts were all for him in this moment. "How proud we ought to +feel!" she said to herself. "That makes the second time in a week old +Munce has sent for him. But how like Henry Ocock," she went on with +puckered brow. "It's quite insulting--after the trouble Richard has put +himself to. If Agnes's case puzzles him, I should like to know who will +understand it better. I think I'll go and see her myself this afternoon. +It can't be HER wish to call in a stranger." + +Not till some time after did she remember her own private embarrassment. +And, by then, the incident had taken its proper place in her mind--had +sunk to the level of insignificance to which it belonged. + +"Such a piece of nonsense!" was her final verdict. "As if I could worry +Richard with it, when he has so many really important things to occupy +him." + + + + +Chapter V + +Yes, those were palmy days; the rate at which the practice spread +astonished even himself. No slack seasons for him now; winter saw him as +busy as summer; and his chief ground for complaint was that he was +unable to devote the meticulous attention he would have wished to each +individual case. "It would need the strength of an elephant to do that." +But it was impossible not to feel gratified by the many marks of +confidence he received. And if his work had but left him some leisure +for study and an occasional holiday, he would have been content. But in +these years he was never able to get his neck out of the yoke; and Mary +took her annual jaunts to Melbourne and sea-breezes alone. + +In a long talk they had with each other, it was agreed that, except in +an emergency, he was to be chary of entering into fresh engagements-- +this referred in the first place to confinements, of which his book was +always full; and secondly, to outlying bush-cases, the journey to and +from which wasted many a precious hour. And where it would have been +impolitic to refuse a new and influential patient, some one on his list +--a doubtful payer or a valetudinarian--was gently to be let drop. And +it was Mary who arranged who this should be. Some umbrage was bound to +be given in the process; but with her help it was reduced to a minimum. +For Mary knew by heart all the links and ramifications of the houses at +which he visited; knew precisely who was related to whom, by blood or +marriage or business; knew where offence might with safety be risked, +and where it would do him harm. She had also a woman's tact in smoothing +things over. A born doctor's wife, declared Mahony in grateful +acknowledgment. For himself he could not keep such fiddling details in +his head for two minutes on end. + +But though he thus succeeded in setting bounds to his activity, he still +had a great deal too much to do; and, in tired moments, or when tic +plagued him, thought the sole way out of the impasse would be to +associate some one with him as partner or assistant. And once he was +within an ace of doing so, chance throwing what he considered a likely +person across his path. In attending a coroner's inquest, he made the +acquaintance of a member of the profession who was on his way from the +Ovens district--a coach journey of well over two hundred miles--to a +place called Walwala, a day's ride to the west of Ballarat. And since +this was a pleasant-spoken man and intelligent--though with a somewhat +down-at-heel look--besides being a stranger to the town, Mahony +impulsively took him home to dinner. In the evening they sat and talked. +The visitor, whose name was Wakefield, was considerably Mahony's senior. +By his own account he had had but a rough time of it for the past couple +of years. A good practice which he had worked up in the seaport of +Warrnambool had come to an untimely end. He did not enter into the +reasons for this. "I was unfortunate . . . had a piece of ill-luck," was +how he referred to it. And knowing how fatally easy was a trip in +diagnosis, a slip of the scalpel, Mahony tactfully helped him over the +allusion. From Warrnambool Wakefield had gone to the extreme north of +the colony; but the eighteen months spent there had nearly been his +undoing. Money had not come in badly; but his wife and family had +suffered from the great heat, and the scattered nature of the work had +worn him to skin and bone. He was now casting about him for a more +suitable place. He could not afford to buy a practice, must just creep +in where he found a vacancy. And Walwala, where he understood there had +never been a resident practitioner, seemed to offer an opening. + +Mahony felt genuinely sorry for the man; and after he had gone sat and +revolved the idea, in the event of Walwala proving unsuitable, of taking +Wakefield on as his assistant. He went to bed full of the scheme and +broached it to Mary before they slept. Mary made big eyes to herself as +she listened. Like a wise wife, however, she did not press her own views +that night, while the idea bubbled hot in him; for, at such times, when +some new project seemed to promise the millennium, he stood opposition +badly. But she lay awake telling off the reasons she would put before +him in the morning; and in the dark allowed herself a tender, tickled +little smile at his expense. + +"What a man he is for loading himself up with the wrong sort of people!" +she reflected. "And then afterwards, he gets tired of them, and +impatient with them--as is only natural." + +At breakfast she came back on the subject herself. In her opinion, he +ought to think the matter over very carefully. Not another doctor on +Ballarat had an assistant; and his patients would be sure to resent the +novelty. Those who sent for Dr. Mahony would not thank you to be handed +over to "goodness knows who." + +"Besides, Richard, as things are now, the money wouldn't really be +enough, would it? And just as we have begun to be a little easy +ourselves--I'm afraid you'd miss many comforts you have got used to +again, dear," she wound up, with a mental glance at the fine linen and +smooth service Richard loved. + +Yes, that was true, admitted Mahony with a sigh; and being this morning +in a stale mood, he forthwith knocked flat the card-house it had amused +him to build. Himself he had only half believed in it; or believed so +long as he refrained from going into prosaic details. There was work for +two and money for one--that was the crux of the matter. Successful as +the practice was, it still did not throw off a thousand a year. Bad +debts ran to a couple of hundred annually; and their improved style of +living--the expenses of house and garden, of horses and vehicles, the +men-servants, the open house they had to keep--swallowed every penny of +the rest. Saving was actually harder than when his income had been but a +third of what it was at present. New obligations beset him. For one +thing, he had to keep pace with his colleagues; make a show of being +just as well-to-do as they. Retrenching was out of the question. His +patients would at once imagine that something was wrong--the practice +on the downgrade, his skill deserting him--and take their ailments and +their fees elsewhere. No, the more one had, the more one was forced to +spend; and the few odd hundreds for which Henry Ocock could yearly be +counted on came in very handy. As a rule he laid these by for Mary's +benefit; for her visits to Melbourne, her bonnets and gowns. It also let +her satisfy the needs of her generous little heart in matters of +hospitality--well, it was perhaps not fair to lay the whole blame of +their incessant and lavish entertaining at her door. He himself knew +that it would not do for them to lag a foot behind other people. + +Hence the day on which he would be free to dismiss the subject of money +from his mind seemed as far off as ever. He might indulge wild schemes +of taking assistant or partner; the plain truth was, he could not afford +even the sum needed to settle in a LOCUM TENENS for three months, while +he recuperated.--Another and equally valid reason was that the right +man for a LOCUM was far to seek. As time went on, he found himself +pushed more and more into a single branch of medicine--one, too, he had +never meant to let grow over his head in this fashion. For it was common +medical knowledge out here that, given the distances and the general +lack of conveniences, thirty to forty maternity cases per year were as +much as a practitioner could with comfort take in hand. HIS books for +the past year stood at over a hundred! The nightwork this meant was +unbearable, infants showing a perverse disinclination to enter the world +except under cover of the dark. + +His popularity--if such it could be called--with the other sex was +something of a mystery to him. For he had not one manner for the bedside +and another for daily life. He never sought to ingratiate himself with +people, or to wheedle them; still less would he stoop to bully or +intimidate; was always by preference the adviser rather than the +dictator. And men did not greatly care for this arm's-length attitude; +they wrote him down haughty and indifferent, and pinned their faith to a +blunter, homelier manner. But with women it was otherwise; and these +also appreciated the fact that, no matter what their rank in life, their +age or their looks, he met them with the deference he believed due to +their sex. Exceptions there were, of course. Affectation or insincerity +angered him--with the "Zaras" of this world he had scant patience-- +while among the women themselves, some few--Ned's wife, for example-- +felt resentment at his very appearance, his gestures, his tricks of +speech. But the majority were his staunch partisans; and it was becoming +more and more the custom to engage Dr. Mahony months ahead, thus binding +him fast. And though he would sometimes give Mary a fright by vowing +that he was going to "throw up mid. and be done with it," yet her +ambition--and what an ambitious wife she was, no one but himself knew-- +that he should some day become one of the leading specialists on +Ballarat, seemed not unlikely of fulfilment. If his health kept good. +And . . . and if he could possibly hold out! + +For there still came times when he believed that to turn his back for +ever, on place and people, would make him the happiest of mortals. For a +time this idea had left him in peace. Now it haunted him again. Perhaps, +because he had at last grasped the unpalatable truth that it would never +be his luck to save: if saving were the only key to freedom, he would +still be there, still chained fast, and though he lived to be a hundred. +Certain it was, he did not become a better colonist as the years went +on. He had learnt to hate the famous climate--the dust and drought and +brazen skies; the drenching rains and bottomless mud--to rebel against +the interminable hours he was doomed to spend in his buggy. By nature he +was a recluse--not an outdoor-man at all. He was tired, too, of the +general rampage, the promiscuous connexions and slap-dash familiarity of +colonial life; sick to death of the all-absorbing struggle to grow +richer than his neighbours. He didn't give a straw for money in itself-- +only for what it brought him. And what was the good of that, if he had +no leisure to enjoy it? Or was it the truth that he feared being dragged +into the vortex? . . . of learning to care, he, too, whether or no his +name topped subscription-lists; whether his entertainments were the most +sumptuous, his wife the best-dressed woman in her set? Perish the +thought! + +He did not disquiet Mary by speaking of these things. Still less did he +try to explain to her another, more elusive side of the matter. It was +this. Did he dig into himself, he saw that his uncongenial surroundings +were not alone to blame for his restless state of mind. There was in him +a gnawing desire for change as change; a distinct fear of being pinned +for too long to the same spot; or, to put it another way, a conviction +that to live on without change meant decay. For him, at least. Of +course, it was absurd to yield to feelings of this kind; at his age, in +his position, with a wife dependent on him. And so he fought them--even +while he indulged them. For this was the year in which, casting the +question of expense to the winds, he pulled down and rebuilt his house. +It came over him one morning on waking that he could not go on in the +old one for another day, so cramped was he, so tortured by its +lath-and-plaster thinness. He had difficulty in winning Mary over; she was +against the outlay, the trouble and confusion involved; and was only +reconciled by the more solid comforts and greater conveniences offered +her. For the new house was of brick, the first brick house to be built +on Ballarat (and oh the joy! said Richard, of walls so thick that you +could not hear through them), had an extra-wide verandah which might be +curtained in for parties and dances, and a side-entrance for patients, +such as Mary had often sighed for. + +As a result of the new grandeur, more and more flocked to his door. The +present promised to be a record year even in the annals of the Golden +City. The completion of the railway-line to Melbourne was the +outstanding event. Virtually halving the distance to the metropolis in +count of time, it brought a host of fresh people capitalists, +speculators, politicians--about the town, and money grew perceptibly +easier. Letters came more quickly, too; Melbourne newspapers could be +handled almost moist from the press. One no longer had the sense of +lying shut off from the world, behind the wall of a tedious coach +journey. And the merry Ballaratians, who had never feared or shrunk from +the discomforts of this journey, now travelled constantly up and down: +attending the Melbourne race-meetings; the Government House balls and +lawn-parties; bringing back the gossip of Melbourne, together with its +fashions in dress, music and social life. + +Mary, in particular, profited by the change; for in one of those +"general posts" so frequently played by the colonial cabinet, John +Turnham had come out Minister of Railways; and she could have a "free +pass" for the asking. John paid numerous visits to his constituency; but +he was now such an important personage that his relatives hardly saw +him. As likely as not he was the guest of the Henry Ococks in their new +mansion, or of the mayor of the borough. In the past two years Mahony +had only twice exchanged a word with his brother-in-law. + +And then they met again. + +In Melbourne, at six o'clock one January morning, the Honourable John, +about to enter a saloon-compartment of the Ballarat train, paused, with +one foot on the step, and disregarding the polite remarks of the +station-master at his heels, screwed up his prominent black eyes against +the sun. At the farther end of the train, a tall, thin, fair-whiskered +man was peering disconsolately along a row of crowded carriages. "God +bless me! isn't that . . . Why, so it is!" And leaving the official +standing, John walked smartly down the platform. + +"My dear Mahony!--this is indeed a surprise. I had no idea you were in +town." + +"Why not have let me know you proposed coming?" he inquired as they made +their way, the train meanwhile held up on their account, towards John's +spacious, reserved saloon. + +("What he means is, why I didn't beg a pass of him.") And Mahony, who +detested asking favours, laid exaggerated emphasis on his want of +knowledge. He had not contemplated the journey till an hour beforehand. +Then, the proposed delegate having been suddenly taken ill, he had been +urgently requested to represent the Masonic Lodge to which he belonged, +at the Installation of a new Grand Master. + +"Ah, so you found it possible to get out of harness for once?" said John +affably, as they took their seats. + +"Yes, by a lucky chance I had no case on hand that could not do without +me for twenty-four hours. And my engagement-book I can leave with +perfect confidence to my wife." + +"Mary is no doubt a very capable woman; I noticed that afresh, when last +she was with us," returned John; and went on to tick off Mary's +qualities like a connoisseur appraising the points of a horse. "A +misfortune that she is not blessed with any family," he added. + +Mahony stiffened; and responded dryly: "I'm not sure that I agree with +you. With all her energy and spirit Mary is none too strong." + +"Well, well! these things are in the hands of Providence; we must take +what is sent us." And caressing his bare chin John gave a hearty yawn. + +The words flicked Mahony's memory: John had had an addition to his +family that winter, in the shape--to the disappointment of all +concerned--of a second daughter. He offered belated congratulations. "A +regular Turnham this time, according to Mary. But I am sorry to hear +Jane has not recovered her strength." + +"Oh, Jane is doing very well. But it has been a real disadvantage that +she could not nurse. The infant is . . . well, ah . . . perfectly +formed, of course, but small--small." + +"You must send them both to Mary, to be looked after." + +The talk then passed to John's son, now a schoolboy in Geelong; and John +admitted that the reports he received of the lad continued as +unsatisfactory as ever. "The young rascal has ability, they tell me, but +no application." John propounded various theories to account for the boy +having turned out poorly, chief among which was that he had been left +too long in the hands of women. They had overindulged him. "Mary no more +than the rest, my dear fellow," he hastened to smooth Mahony's rising +plumes. "It began with his mother in the first place. Yes, poor Emma was +weak with the boy--lamentably weak!" + +Here, with a disconcerting abruptness, he drew to him a blue linen bag +that lay on the seat, and loosening its string took out a sheaf of +official papers, in which he was soon engrossed. He had had enough of +Mahony's conversation in the meantime, or so it seemed; had thought of +something better to do, and did it. + +His brother-in-law eyed him as he read. "He's a bad colour. Been living +too high, no doubt." + +A couple of new books were on the seat by Mahony; but he did not open +them. He had a tiring day behind him, and the briefest of nights. +Besides attending the masonic ceremony, which had lasted into the small +hours, he had undertaken to make various purchases, not the least +difficult of which was the buying of a present for Mary--all the little +fal-lals that went to finish a lady's ball-dress. Railway-travelling +was, too, something of a novelty to him nowadays; and he sat idly +watching the landscape unroll, and thinking of nothing in particular. +The train was running through mile after mile of flat, treeless country, +liberally sprinkled with trapstones and clumps of tussock grass, which +at a distance could be mistaken for couched sheep. Here and there stood +a solitary she-oak, most doleful of trees, its scraggy, pine-needle +foliage bleached to grey. From the several little stations along the +line: mere three-sided sheds, which bore a printed invitation to +intending passengers to wave a flag or light a lamp, did they wish to +board the train: from these shelters long, bare, red roads, straight as +ruled lines, ran back into the heart of the burnt-up, faded country. Now +and then a moving ruddy cloud on one of them told of some vehicle +crawling its laborious way. + +When John, his memoranda digested, looked up ready to resume their talk, +he found that Mahony was fast asleep; and, since his first words, loudly +uttered, did not rouse him, he took out his case, chose a cigar, +beheaded it and puffed it alight. + +While he smoked, he studied his insensible relative. Mahony was sitting +uncomfortably hunched up; his head had fallen forward and to the side, +his mouth was open, his gloved hands lay limp on his knee. + +"H'm!" said John to himself as he gazed. And: "H'm," he repeated after +an interval.--Then pulling down his waistcoat and generally giving +himself a shake to rights, he reflected that, for his own two-and-forty +years, he was a very well preserved man indeed. + + + + +Chapter VI + +"Oh, Richard!. . . and my dress is blue," said Mary distractedly, and +sitting back on her heels let her arms fall to her sides. She was on her +knees, and before her lay a cardboard box from which she had withdrawn a +pink fan, pink satin boots with stockings to match, and a pink head-dress. + +"Well, why the dickens didn't you say so?" burst out the giver. + +"I did, dear. As plainly as I could speak." + +"Never heard a word!" + +"Because you weren't listening. I told you so at the time. Now what am I +to do?" and, in her worry over the contretemps, Mary quite forgot to +thank her husband for the trouble he had been to on her behalf. + +"Get another gown to go with them." + +"Oh, Richard. . . how like a man! After all the time and money this one +has cost me. No, I couldn't do that. Besides, Agnes Ocock is wearing +pink and wouldn't like it." And with a forehead full of wrinkles she +slowly began to replace the articles in their sheaths. "Of course +they're very nice," she added, as her fingers touched the delicate +textures. + +"They would need to be, considering what I paid for them. I wish now I'd +kept my money in my pocket." + +"Well, your mistake is hardly my fault, is it, dear?" But Richard had +gone off in a mood midway between self-annoyance and the huff. + +Mary's first thought was to send the articles to Jinny with a request to +exchange them for their counterparts in the proper colour. Then she +dismissed the idea. Blind slave to her nursery that Jinny was, she would +hardly be likely to give the matter her personal supervision: the box +would just be returned to the shop, and the transfer left to the +shop-people's discretion. They might even want to charge more. No, another +plan now occurred to Mary. Agnes Ocock might not yet have secured the +various small extras to go with her ball-dress; and, if not, how nice it +would be to make her a present of these. They were finer, in better +taste, than anything to be had on Ballarat; and she had long owed Agnes +some return for her many kindnesses. Herself she would just make do with +the simpler things she could buy in town. And so, without saying +anything to Richard, who would probably have objected that Henry Ocock +was well able to afford to pay for his own wife's finery, Mary tied up +the box and drove to Plevna House, on the outer edge of Yuille's Swamp. + +"Oh, no, I could never have got myself such beautiful things as these, +Mary," and Mrs. Henry let her hands play lovingly with the silk +stockings, her pretty face a-glow with pleasure. "Henry has no +understanding, dear, for the etceteras of a costume. He thinks, if he +pays for a dress or a mantle, that that is enough; and when the LITTLE +bills come in, he grumbles at what he calls my extravagance. I sometimes +wish, Mary, I had kept back just a teeny-weeny bit of my own money. +Henry would never have missed it, and I should have been able to settle +a small bill for myself now and then. But you know how it is at first, +love. Our one idea is to hand over all we possess to our lord and +master." She tried on the satin boots; they were a little long, but she +would stuff the toes with wadding. "If I am REALLY not robbing you, +Mary?" + +Mary reassured her, and thereupon a visit was paid to the nursery, where +Mr. Henry's son and heir lay sprawling in his cradle. Afterwards they +sat and chatted on the verandah, while a basket was being filled with +peaches for Mary to take home. + +Not even the kindly drapery of a morning-wrapper could conceal the fact +that Agnes was growing stout--quite losing her fine figure. That came +of her having given up riding-exercise. And all to please Mr. Henry. He +did not ride himself, and felt nervous or perhaps a little jealous when +his wife was on horseback. + +She was still very pretty of course--though by daylight the fine bloom +of her cheeks began to break up into a network of tiny veins--and her +fair, smooth brow bore no trace of the tragedy she has gone through. The +double tragedy; for, soon after the master of Dandaloo's death in a +Melbourne lunatic asylum, the little son of the house had died, not yet +fourteen years of age, in an Inebriate's Home. Far was it from Mary to +wish her friend to brood or repine; but to have ceased to remember as +utterly as Agnes had done had something callous about it; and, in her +own heart, Mary devoted a fresh regret to the memory of the poor little +stepchild of fate. + +The ball for which all these silken niceties were destined had been +organised to raise funds for a public monument to the two explorers, +Burke and Wills, and was to be one of the grandest ever given in +Ballarat. His Excellency the Governor would, it was hoped, be present in +person; the ladies had taken extraordinary pains with their toilettes. +and there had been the usual grumblings at expense on the part of the +husbands--though not a man but wished and privately expected HIS wife +"to take the shine out of all the rest." + +Mary had besought Richard to keep that evening free--it was her lot +always to go out to entertainments under some one else's wing--and he +had promised to do his utmost. But, a burnt child in this respect, Mary +said she would believe it when she saw it; and the trend of events +justified her scepticism. The night arrived; she was on the point of +adjusting her wreath of forget-me-nots before her candle-lit mirror, +when the dreaded summons came. Mahony had to change and hurry off, +without a moment's delay. + +"Send for Purdy. He'll see you across," he said as he banged the front +door. + +But Mary despatched the gardener at a run with a note to Tilly Ocock, +who, she knew, would make room for her in her double-seated buggy. + +Grindle got out, and Mary, her bunchy skirts held to her, took his place +at the back beside Mrs. Amelia. Tilly sat next the driver, and talked to +them over her shoulder--a great big jolly rattle of a woman, who ruled +her surroundings autocratically. + +"Lor, no--we left 'im counting eggs," she answered an inquiry on Mary's +part. "Pa's got a brood of Cochin Chinas that's the pride and glory of +'is heart. And 'e's built 'imself the neatest little place for 'em you +could meet on a summer's day: you MUST come over and admire it, my dear +--that'll please 'im, no end. It was a condition I made for 'is going on +keeping fowls. They were a perfect nuisance, all over the garden and +round the kitchen and the back, till it wasn't safe to put your foot +down anywhere--fowls ARE such messy things! At last I up and said I +wouldn't have it any longer. So then 'e and Tom set to work and built +themselves a fowl-house and a run. And there they spend their days +thinking out improvements." + +Here Tilly gave the driver a cautionary dig with her elbow; as she did +this, an under-pocket chinked ominously. "Look out now, Davy, what +you're doing with us!--Yes, that's splosh, Mary. I always bring a bag +of change with me, my dear, so that those who lose shan't have an excuse +for not paying up." Tilly was going to pass her evening, as usual, at +the card-table. "Well, I hope you two'll enjoy yourselves. Remember now, +Mrs. Grindle, if you please, that you're a married woman and must behave +yourself, and not go in for any high jinks," she teased her prim little +stepdaughter, as they dismounted from the conveyance and stood +straightening their petticoats at the entrance to the hall. + +"You know, Matilda, I do not intend to dance to-night," said Mrs Amelia +in her sedate fashion: it was as if she sampled each word before parting +with it. + +"Oh, I know, bless you! and know why, too. If only it's not another +false alarm! Poor old pa' so like to have a grandchild 'e was allowed to +carry round. 'E mustn'n go near Henry's, of course, for fear the kid 'ud +swallow one of 'is dropped aitches and choke over it." And Tilly threw +back her head and laughed. "But you must hurry up, Mely, you know, if +you want to oblige 'im." + +"Really, Tilly!" expostulated Mary. ("She sometimes DOES go too far," +she thought to herself. "The poor little woman!") "Let us two keep +together," she said as she took Amelia's arm. "I don't intend to dance +much either, as my husband isn't here." + +But once inside the gaily decorated hall, she found it impossible to +keep her word. Even on her way to a seat beside Agnes Ocock she was +repeatedly stopped, and, when she sat down, up came first one, then +another, to "request the pleasure." She could not go on refusing +everybody: if she did, it would look as if she deliberately set out to +be peculiar--a horrible thought to Mary. Besides, many of those who +made their bow were important, influential gentlemen; for Richard's sake +she must treat them politely. + +For his sake, again, she felt pleased; rightly or wrongly she put the +many attentions shown her down to the fact of her being his wife. So she +turned and offered apologies to Agnes and Amelia, feeling at the same +time thankful that Richard had not Mr. Henry's jealous disposition. +There sat Agnes, looking as pretty as a picture, and was afraid to dance +with any one but her own husband. And he preferred to play at cards! + +"I think, dear, you might have ventured to accept the Archdeacon for a +quadrille," she whispered behind her fan, as Agnes regretfully declined +Mr. Long. + +But Agnes shook her head. "It's better not, Mary. It saves trouble +afterwards. Henry DOESN'T care to see it." Perhaps Agnes herself, once a +passionate dancer, was growing a little too comfortable, thought Mary, +as her own programme wandered from hand to hand. + +Among the last to arrive was Purdy, red with haste, and making a great +thump with his lame leg as he crossed the floor. + +"I'm beastly late, Polly. What have you got left for me?" + +"Why, really nothing, Purdy. I thought you weren't coming. But you may +put your name down here if you like," and Mary handed him her programme +with her thumb on an empty space: she generally made a point of sitting +out a dance with Purdy that he might not feel neglected; and of late she +had been especially careful not to let him notice any difference in her +treatment of him. But when he gave back the card she found that he had +scribbled his initials in all three blank lines. "Oh, you mustn't do +that. I'm saving those for Richard." + +"Our dance, I believe, Mrs. Mahony?" said a deep voice as the band +struck up "The Rat Quadrilles." And, swaying this way and that in her +flounced blue tarletan, Mary rose, put her hand within the proffered +crook, and went off with the Police Magistrate, an elderly greybeard; +went to walk or be teetotumed through the figures of the dance, with the +supremely sane unconcern that she displayed towards all the arts. + +"What odd behaviour!" murmured Mrs. Henry, following Purdy's retreating +form with her eyes. "He took no notice of us whatever. And did you see, +Amelia, how he stood and stared after Mary? Quite rudely, I thought." + +Here Mrs. Grindle was forced to express an opinion of her own--always a +trial for the nervous little woman. "I think it's because dear Mary +looks so charming to-night, Agnes," she ventured in her mouselike way. +Then moved up to make room for Archdeacon Long, who laid himself out to +entertain the ladies. + + +* * * * * + + +It was after midnight when Mahony reached home. He would rather have +gone to bed, but having promised Mary to put in an appearance, he +changed and walked down to the town. + +The ball was at its height. He skirted the rotating couples, seeking +Mary. Friends hailed him. + +"Ah, well done, doctor!" + +"Still in time for a spin, sir." + +"Have you seen my wife?" + +"Indeed and I have. Mrs. Mahony's the belle o' the ball." + +"Pleased to hear it. Where is she now?" + +"Look here, Mahony, we've had a reg'lar dispute," cried Willie Urquhart +pressing up; he was flushed and decidedly garrulous. "Almost came to +blows we did, over whose was the finest pair o' shoulders--your wife's +or Henry O.'s. I plumped for Mrs. M., and I b'lieve she topped the poll. +By Jove! that blue gown makes 'em look just like . . . what shall I say? +. . . like marble." + +"Does fortune smile?" asked Mahony of Henry Ocock as he passed the +card-players: he had cut Urquhart short with a nod. "So his Excellency +didn't turn up, after all?" + +"Sent a telegraphic communication at the last moment. No, I haven't seen +her. But stay, there's Matilda wanting to speak to you, I believe." + +Tilly was making all manner of signs to attract his attention. + +"Good evening, doctor. Yes, I've a message. You'll find 'er in the +cloakroom. She's been in there for the last half-'our or so. I think +she's got the headache or something of that sort, and is waiting for you +to take 'er home." + +"Oh, thank goodness, there you are, Richard!" cried Mary as he opened +the door of the cloakroom; and she rose from the bench on which she had +been sitting with her shawl wrapped round her. "I thought you'd never +come." She was pale, and looked distressed. + +"Why, what's wrong, my dear? . . . feeling faint?" asked Mahony +incredulously. "If so, you had better wait for the buggy. It won't be +long now; you ordered it for two o'clock." + +"No, no, I'm not ill, I'd rather walk," said Mary breathlessly. "Only +please let us get away. And without making a fuss." + +"But what's the matter?" + +"I'll tell you as we go. No, these boots won't hurt. And I can walk in +them quite well. Fetch your own things, Richard." Her one wish was to +get her husband out of the building. + +They stepped into the street; it was a hot night and very dark. In her +thin satin dancing-boots, Mary leaned heavily on Richard's arm, as they +turned off the street-pavements into the unpaved roads. + +Mahony let the lights of the main street go past; then said: "And now, +Madam Wife, you'll perhaps be good enough to enlighten me as to what all +this means?" + +"Yes, dear, I will," answered Mary obediently. But her voice trembled; +and Mahony was sharp of hearing. + +"Why, Polly sweetheart . . . surely nothing serious?" + +"Yes, it is. I've had a very unpleasant experience this evening, Richard +--very unpleasant indeed. I hardly know how to tell you. I feel so +upset." + +"Come--out with it!" + +In a low voice, with downcast eyes, Mary told her story. All had gone +well till about twelve o'clock: she had danced with this partner and +that, and thoroughly enjoyed herself. Then came Purdy's turn. She was +with Mrs. Long when he claimed her, and she at once suggested that they +should sit out the dance on one of the settees placed round the hall, +where they could amuse themselves by watching the dancers. But Purdy +took no notice--"He was strange in his manner from the very beginning" +--and led her into one of the little rooms that opened off the main body +of the hall. + +"And I didn't like to object. We were conspicuous enough as it was, his +foot made such a bumping noise; it was worse than ever to-night, I +thought." + +For the same reason, though she had felt uncomfortable at being hidden +away in there, she had not cared to refuse to stay: it seemed to make +too much of the thing. Besides, she hoped some other couple would join +them. But + +"But, Mary. . .!" broke from Mahony; he was blank and bewildered. + +Purdy, however, had got up after a moment or two and shut the door. And +then--"Oh, it's no use, Richard, I can't tell you!" said poor Mary. "I +don't know how to get the words over my lips. I think I've never felt so +ashamed in all my life." And, worn out by the worry and excitement she +had gone through, and afraid, in advance, of what she had still to face, +Mary began to cry. + +Mahony stood still; let her arm drop. "Do you mean me to understand," he +demanded, as if unable to believe his ears: "to understand that +Purdy. . . dared to. . . that he dared to behave to you in any but a--" +And since Mary was using her pocket-handkerchief and could not reply: +"Good God! Has the fellow taken leave of his senses? Is he mad? Was he +drunk? Answer me! What does it all mean?" And Mary still continuing +silent, he threw off the hand she had replaced on his arm. "Then you must +walk home alone. I'm going back to get at the truth of this." + +But Mary clung to him. "No, no, you must hear the whole story first." +Anything rather than let him return to the hall. Yes, at first she +thought he really had gone mad. "I can't tell you what I felt, +Richard . . . knowing it was Purdy--just Purdy. To see him like +that--looking so horrible--and to have to listen to the dreadful things he +said! Yes, I'm sure he had had too too much to drink. His breath smelt +so." She had tried to pull away her hands; but he had held her, had put +his arms round her. + +At the anger she felt racing through her husband she tightened her grip, +stringing meanwhile phrase to phrase with the sole idea of getting him +safely indoors. Not till they were shut in the bedroom did she give the +most humiliating detail of any: how, while she was still struggling to +free herself from Purdy's embrace, the door had opened and Mr. Grindle +looked in. "He drew back at once, of course. But it was awful, Richard! +I turned cold. It seemed to give me more strength, though. I pulled +myself away and got out of the room, I don't know how. My wreath was +falling off. My dress was crumpled. Nothing would have made me go back +to the ballroom. I couldn't have faced Amelia's husband--I think I +shall never be able to face him again," and Mary's tears flowed anew. + +Richard was stamping about the room, aimlessly moving things from their +places. "God Almighty! he shall answer to me for this. I'll go back and +take a horsewhip with me." + +"For my sake, don't have a scene with him. It would only make matters +worse," she pleaded. + +But Richard strode up and down, treading heedlessly on the flouncings of +her dress. "What?--and let him believe such behaviour can go +unpunished? That whenever it pleases him, he can insult my wife--insult +my wife? Make her the talk of the place? Brand her before the whole town +as a light woman?" + +"Oh, not the whole town, Richard. I shall have to explain to +Amelia. . . and Tilly . . . and Agnes--that's all," sobbed Mary in +parenthesis. + +"Yes, and I ask if it's a dignified or decent thing for you to have to +do?--to go running round assuring your friends of your virtue!" cried +Richard furiously. "Let me tell you this, my dear: at whatever door you +knock, you'll be met by disbelief. Fate played you a shabby trick when +it allowed just that low cad to put his head in. What do you think would +be left of any woman's reputation after Grindle Esquire had pawed it +over? No, Mary, you've been rendered impossible; and you'll be made to +feel it for the rest of your days. People will point to you as the wife +who takes advantage of her husband's absence to throw herself into +another man's arms; and to me as the convenient husband who provides the +opportunity"--and Mahony groaned. In an impetuous flight of fancy he +saw his good name smirched, his practice laid waste. + +Mary lifted her head at this, and wiped her eyes. "Oh, you always paint +everything so black. People know me--know I would never, never do such +a thing." + +"Unfortunately we live among human beings, my dear, not in a community +of saints! But what does a good woman know of how a slander of this kind +clings?" + +"But if I have a perfectly clear conscience?" Mary's tone was +incredulous, even a trifle aggrieved. + +"It spells ruin all the same in a hole like this, if it once gets +about." + +"But it shan't. I'll put my pride in my pocket and go to Amelia the +first thing in the morning. I'll make it right somehow.--But I must +say, Richard, in the whole affair I don't think you feel a bit sorry for +me. Or at least only for me as your wife. The horridest part of what +happened was mine, not yours--and I think you might show a little +sympathy." + +"I'm too furious to feel sorry," replied Richard with gaunt +truthfulness, still marching up and down. + +"Well, I do," said Mary with a spice of defiance. "In spite of +everything, I feel sorry that any one could so far forget himself as +Purdy did to-night." + +"You'll be telling me next you have warmer feelings still for him!" +burst out Mahony. "Sorry for the crazy lunatic who, after all these +years, after all I've done for him and the trust I've put in him, +suddenly falls to making love to the woman who bears my name? Why, a +madhouse is the only place he's fit for." + +"There you're unjust. And wrong, too. It . . . it wasn't as sudden as +you think. Purdy has been queer in his behaviour for quite a long time +now." + +"What in Heaven's name do you mean by that?" + +"I mean what I say," said Mary staunchly, though she turned a still +deeper red. "Oh, you might just as well be angry with yourself for being +so blind and stupid." + +"Do you mean to tell me you were aware of something?" Mahony stopped +short in his perambulations and fixed her, open-mouthed. + +"I couldn't help it.--Not that there was much to know, Richard. And I +thought of coming to you about it--indeed I did. I tried to, more than +once. But you were always so busy; I hadn't the heart to worry you. For +I knew very well how upset you would be." + +"So it comes to this, does it?" said Mahony with biting emphasis. "My +wife consents to another man paying her illicit attentions behind her +husband's back!" + +"Oh, no, no, no! But I knew how fond you were of Purdy. And I always +hoped it would blow over without . . . without coming to anything." + +"God forgive me!" cried Mahony passionately. "It takes a woman's brain +to house such a preposterous idea." + +"Oh, I'm not quite the fool you make me out to be, Richard. I've got +some sense in me. But it's always the same. I think of you, and you +think of no one but yourself. I only wanted to spare you. And this is +the thanks I get for it." And sitting down on the side of the bed she +wept bitterly. + +"Will you assure me, madam, that till to-night nothing I could have +objected to has ever passed between you?" + +"No, Richard, I won't! I won't tell you anything else. You get so angry +you don't know what you're saying. And if you can't trust me better than +that--Purdy said to-night you didn't understand me. . . and never had." + +"Oh, he did, did he? There we have it! Now I'll know every word the +scoundrel has ever said to you--and if I have to drag it from you by +force." + +But Mary set her lips, with an obstinacy that was something quite new in +her. It first amazed Mahony, then made him doubly angry. One word gave +another; for the first time in their married lives they quarrelled-- +quarrelled hotly. And, as always at such times, many a covert criticism +a secret disapproval which neither had ever meant to breathe to the +other, slipped out and added fuel to the fire. It was appalling to both +to find on how many points they stood at variance. + +Some half hour later, leaving Mary still on the edge of the bed, still +crying, Mahony stalked grimly into the surgery and taking pen and paper +scrawled, without even sitting down to do it: + +YOU DAMNED SCOUNDREL! IF EVER YOU SHOW YOUR FACE HERE AGAIN, I'LL THRASH +YOU TO WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR LIFE. + +Then he stepped on to the verandah and crossed the lawn, carrying the +letter in his hand. + +But already his mood was on the turn: it seemed as if, in the physical +effort of putting the words to paper, his rage had spent itself. He was +conscious now of a certain limpness, both of mind and body; his fit of +passion over, he felt dulled, almost indifferent to what had happened. +Now, too, another feeling was taking possession of him, opening up +vistas of a desert emptiness that he hardly dared to face. + +But stay! . . . was that not a movement in the patch of blackness under +the fig-tree? Had not something stirred there? He stopped, and strained +his eyes. No, it was only a bough that swayed in the night air. He went +out of the garden to the corner of the road and came back empty handed. +But at the same spot he hesitated, and peered. "Who's there?" he asked +sharply. And again: "Is there any one there?" But the silence remained +unbroken; and once more he saw that the shifting of a branch had misled +him. + +Mary was moving about the bedroom. He ought to go to her and ask pardon +for his violence. But he was not yet come to a stage when he felt equal +to a reconciliation; he would rest for a while, let his troubled balance +right itself. And so he lay down on the surgery sofa, and drew a rug +over him. + +He closed his eyes, but could not sleep. His thoughts raced and flew; +his brain hunted clues and connections. He found himself trying to piece +things together; to fit them in, to recollect. And every now and then +some sound outside would make him start up and listen . . . and listen. +Was that not a footstep? . . . the step of one who might come feeling +his way. . . dim-eyed with regret? There were such things in life as +momentary lapses, as ungovernable impulses--as fiery contrition . . . +the anguish of remorse. And yet, once more, he sat up and listened till +his ears rang. + +Then, not the ghostly footsteps of a delusive hope, but a hard, human +crunching that made the boards of the verandah shake. Tossing off the +opossum-rug, which had grown unbearably heavy, he sprang to his feet; +was wide awake and at the window, staring sleep-charged into the dawn, +before a human hand had found the night-bell and a distracted voice +cried: + +"Does a doctor live here? A doctor, I say . . .?" + + + + +Chapter VII + +The hot airless night had become the hot airless day: in the garden the +leaves on trees and shrubs drooped as under an invisible weight. All the +stale smells of the day before persisted--that of the medicaments on +the shelves, of the unwetted dust on the roads, the sickly odour of malt +from a neighbouring brewery. The blowflies buzzed about the ceiling; on +the table under the lamp a dozen or more moths lay singed and dead. Now +it was nearing six o'clock; clad in his thinnest driving-coat, Mahony +sat and watched the man who had come to fetch him beat his horse to a +lather. + +"Mercy! . . . have a little mercy on the poor brute," he said more than +once. + +He had stood out for some time against obeying the summons, which meant, +at lowest, a ten-mile drive. Not if he were offered a hundred pounds +down, was his first impetuous refusal; for he had not seen the inside of +a bed that night. But at this he trapped an odd look in the other's +eyes, and suddenly became aware that he was still dressed as for the +ball. Besides, an equally impetuous answer was flung back at him: he +promised no hundred pounds, said the man--hadn't got it to offer. He +appealed solely to the doctor's humanity: it was a question of saving a +life--that of his only son. So here they were. + +"We doctors have no business with troubles of our own," thought Mahony, +as he listened to the detailed account of an ugly accident. On the roof +of a shed the boy had missed his footing, slipped and fallen some twenty +feet, landing astride a piece of quartering. Picking himself up, he had +managed to crawl home, and at first they thought he would be able to get +through the night without medical aid. But towards two o'clock his +sufferings had grown unbearable. God only knew if, by this time, he had +not succumbed to them. + +"My good man, one does not die of pain alone." + +They followed a flat, treeless road, the grass on either side of which +was burnt to hay. Buggy and harness--the latter eked out with bits of +string and an old bootlace--were coated with the dust of months; and +the gaunt, long-backed horse shuffled through a reddish flour, which +accompanied them as a choking cloud. A swarm of small black flies kept +pace with the vehicle, settling on nose, eyes, neck and hands of its +occupants, crawling over the horse's belly and in and out of its +nostrils. The animal made no effort to shake itself free, seemed +indifferent to the pests: they were only to be disturbed by the hail of +blows which the driver occasionally stood up to deliver. At such moments +Mahony, too, started out of the light doze he was continually dropping +into. + +Arrived at their destination--a miserable wooden shanty on a sheep-run +at the foot of the ranges--he found his patient tossing on a dirty bed, +with a small pulse of 120, while the right thigh was darkly bruised and +swollen. The symptoms pointed to serious internal injuries. He performed +the necessary operation. + +There was evidently no woman about the place; the coffee the father +brought him was thick as mud. On leaving, he promised to return next day +and to bring some one with him to attend to the lad. + +For the home-journey, he got a mount on a young and fidgety mare, whom +he suspected of not long having worn the saddle. In the beginning he had +his hands full with her. Then, however, she ceased her antics and +consented to advance at an easy trot. + +HOW tired he felt! He would have liked to go to bed and sleep for a week +on end. As it was, he could not reckon on even an hour's rest. By the +time he reached home the usual string of patients would await him; and +these disposed of, and a bite of breakfast snatched, out he must set +anew on his morning round. He did not feel well either: the coffee +seemed to have disagreed with him. He had a slight sense of nausea and +was giddy; the road swam before his eyes. Possibly the weather had +something to do with it; though a dull, sunless morning it was hot as he +had never known it. He took out a stud, letting the ends of his collar +fly. + +Poor little Mary, he thought inconsequently: he had hurt and frightened +her by his violence. He felt ashamed of himself now. By daylight he +could see her point of view. Mary was so tactful and resourceful that +she might safely be trusted to hush up the affair, to explain away the +equivocal position in which she had been found. After all, both of them +were known to be decent, God-fearing people. And one had only to look at +Mary to see that here was no light woman. Nobody in his senses--not +even Grindle--could think evil of that broad, transparent brow, of +those straight, kind, merry eyes. + +No, this morning his hurt was a purely personal one. That it should just +be Purdy who did him this wrong! Purdy, playmate and henchman, ally in +how many a boyish enterprise, in the hardships and adventures of later +life. "Mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my +bread!" Never had he turned a deaf ear to Purdy's needs; he had fed him +and clothed him, caring for him as for a well-loved brother. Surely few +things were harder to bear than a blow in the dark from one who stood +thus deeply in your debt, on whose gratitude you would have staked your +head. It was, of course, conceivable that he had been swept off his feet +by Mary's vivid young beauty, by over-indulgence, by the glamour of the +moment. But if a man could not restrain his impulses where the wife of +his most intimate friend was concerned . . . Another thing: as long as +Mary had remained an immature slip of a girl, Purdy had not given her a +thought. When, however, under her husband's wing she had blossomed out +into a lovely womanhood, of which any man might be proud, then she had +found favour in his eyes. And the slight this put on Mary's sterling +moral qualities, on all but her physical charms, left the worst taste of +any in the mouth. + +Then, not content with trying to steal her love, Purdy had also sought +to poison her mind against him. How that rankled! For until now he had +hugged the belief that Purdy's opinion of him was coloured by affection +and respect, by the tradition of years. Whereas, from what Mary had let +fall, he saw that the boy must have been sitting in judgment on him, +regarding his peculiarities with an unloving eye, picking his motives to +pieces: it was like seeing the child of your loins, of your hopes, your +unsleeping care, turn and rend you with black ingratitude. Yes, +everything went to prove Purdy's unworthiness. Only HE had not seen it, +only he had been blind to the truth. And wrapped in this smug blindness +he had given his false friend the run of his home, setting, after the +custom of the country, no veto on his eternal presence. Disloyalty was +certainly abetted by just the extravagant, exaggerated hospitality of +colonial life. Never must the doors of your house be shut; all you had +you were expected to share with any sundowner of fortune who chanced to +stop at your gate. + +The mare shied with a suddenness that almost unseated him: the next +moment she had the bit between her teeth and was galloping down the +road. Clomp-clomp-clomp went her hoofs on the baked clay; the dust +smothered and stung, and he was holding for all he was worth to reins +spanned stiff as iron. On they flew; his body hammered the saddle; his +breath came sobbingly. But he kept his seat; and a couple of miles +farther on he was down, soothing the wild-eyed, quivering, sweating +beast, whose nostrils worked like a pair of bellows. There he stood, +glancing now back along the road, now up at the sky. His hat had gone +flying at the first unexpected plunge; he ought to return and look for +it. But he shrank from the additional fatigue, the delay in reaching +home this would mean. The sky was still overcast: he decided to risk it. +Knotting his handkerchief he spread it cap-wise over his head and got +back into the saddle. + +Mine own familiar friend! And more than that: he could add to David's +plaint and say, my only friend. In Purdy the one person he had been +intimate with passed out of his life. There was nobody to take the +vacant place. He had been far too busy of late years to form new +friendships: what was left of him after the day's work was done was but +a kind of shell: the work was the meaty contents. As you neared the +forties, too, it grew ever harder to fit yourself to other people: your +outlook had become too set, your ideas too unfluid. Hence you clung the +faster to ties formed in the old, golden days, worn though these might +be to the thinness of a hair. And then, there was one's wife, of course +--one's dear, good wife. But just her very dearness and goodness served +to hold possible intimates at arm's length. The knowledge that you had +such a confidante, that all your thoughts were shared with her, struck +disastrously at a free exchange of privacies. No, he was alone. He had +not so much as a dog now, to follow at heel and look up at him with the +melancholy eyes of its race. Old Pompey had come at poison, and Mary had +not wished to have a strange dog in the new house. She did not care for +animals, and the main charge of it would have fallen on her. He had no +time--no time even for a dog! + +Better it would assuredly be to have some one to fall back on: it was +not good for a man to stand so alone. Did troubles come, they would +strike doubly hard because of it; then was the time to rejoice in a +warm, human handclasp. And moodily pondering the reasons for his +solitariness, he was once more inclined to lay a share of the blame on +the conditions of the life. The population of the place was still in a +state of flux: he and a mere handful of others would soon, he believed, +be the oldest residents in Ballarat. People came and went, tried their +luck, failed, and flitted off again, much as in the early days. What was +the use of troubling to become better acquainted with a person, when, +just as you began really to know him, he was up and away? At home, in +the old country, a man as often as not died in the place where he was +born; and the slow, eventless years, spent shoulder to shoulder, +automatically brought about a kind of intimacy. But this was only a +surface reason: there was another that went deeper. He had no talent for +friendship, and he knew it; indeed, he would even invert the thing, and +say bluntly that his nature had a twist in it which directly hindered +friendship; and this, though there came moments when he longed, as your +popular mortal never did, for close companionship. Sometimes he felt +like a hungry man looking on at a banquet, of which no one invited him +to partake, because he had already given it to be understood that he +would decline. But such lapses were few. On nine days out of ten, he did +not feel the need of either making or receiving confidences; he shrank +rather, with a peculiar shy dread, from personal unbosomings. Some imp +housed in him--some wayward, wilful, mocking Irish devil--bidding him +hold back, remain cool, dry-eyed, in face of others' joys and pains. +Hence the break with Purdy was a real calamity. The associations of some +five-and-twenty years were bound up in it; measured by it, one's +marriage seemed a thing of yesterday. And even more than the friend, he +would miss the friendship and all it stood for: this solid base of joint +experience; this past of common memories into which one could dip as +into a well; this handle of "Do you remember?" which opened the door to +such a wealth of anecdote. From now on, the better part of his life +would be a closed book to any but himself; there were allusions, jests +without number, homely turns of speech, which not a soul but himself +would understand. The thought of it made him feel old and empty; +affected him like the news of a death.--But MUST it be? Was there no +other way out? Slow to take hold, he was a hundred times slower to let +go. Before now he had seen himself sticking by a person through +misunderstandings, ingratitude, deception, to the blank wonder of the +onlookers. Would he not be ready here, too, to forgive . . . to forget? + +But he felt hot, hot to suffocation, and his heart was pounding in +uncomfortable fashion. The idea of stripping and plunging into ice-cold +water began to make a delicious appeal to him. Nothing surpassed such a +plunge after a broken night. But of late he had had to be wary of +indulging: a bath of this kind, taken when he was over-tired, was apt to +set the accursed tic a-going; and then he could pace the floor in agony. +And yet. . . Good God, how hot it was! His head ached distractedly; an +iron band of pain seemed to encircle it. With a sudden start of alarm he +noticed that he had ceased to perspire--now he came to think of it, not +even the wild gallop had induced perspiration. Pulling up short, he +fingered his pulse. It was abnormal, even for him . . . and feeble. Was +it fancy, or did he really find a difficulty in breathing? He tore off +his collar, threw open the neck of his shirt. He had a sensation as if +all the blood in his body was flying to his head: his face must +certainly be crimson. He put both hands to this top-heavy head, to +support it; and in a blind fit of vertigo all but lost his balance in +the saddle: the trees spun round, the distance went black. For a second +still he kept upright; then he flopped to the ground, falling face +downwards, his arms huddled under him. + +The mare, all her spirit gone, stood lamb-like and waited. As he did not +stir she turned and sniffed at him, curiously. Still he lay prone, and, +having stretched her tired jaws, she raised her head and uttered a +whinny--an almost human cry of distress. This, too, failing in its +effect, she nosed the ground for a few yards, then set out at a gentle, +mane-shaking trot for home. + + +* * * * * + + +Found, a dark conspicuous heap on the long bare road, and carted back to +town by a passing bullock-waggon, Mahony lay, once the death-like coma +had yielded, and tossed in fever and delirium. By piecing his broken +utterances together Mary learned all she needed to know about the case +he had gone out to attend, and his desperate ride home. But it was +Purdy's name that was oftenest on his lips; it was Purdy he reviled and +implored; and when he sprang up with the idea of calling his false +friend to account, it was as much as she could do to restrain him. + +She had the best of advice. Old Dr. Munce himself came two and three +times a day. Mary had always thought him a dear old man; and she felt +surer than ever of it when he stood patting her hand and bidding her +keep a good heart; for they would certainly pull her husband through. + +"There aren't so many of his kind here, Mrs. Mahony, that we can afford +to lose him." + +But altogether she had never known till now how many and how faithful +their friends were. Hardly, for instance, had Richard been carried in, +stiff as a log and grey as death, when good Mrs. Devine was fumbling +with the latch of the gate, an old sunbonnet perched crooked on her +head: she had run down just as she was, in the midst of shelling peas +for dinner. She begged to be allowed to help with the nursing. But Mary +felt bound to refuse. She knew how the thought of what he might have +said in his delirium would worry Richard, when he recovered his senses: +few men laid such weight as he on keeping their private thoughts +private. + +Not to be done, Mrs. Devine installed herself in the kitchen to +superintend the cooking. Less for the patient, into whom at first only +liquid nourishment could be injected, than: "To see as your own strength +is kep' up, dearie." Tilly swooped down and bore off Trotty. Delicate +fruits, new-laid eggs, jellies and wines came from Agnes Ocock; while +Amelia Grindle, who had no such dainties to offer arrived every day at +three o'clock, to mind the house while Mary slept. Archdeacon Long was +also a frequent visitor, bringing not so much spiritual as physical aid; +for, as the frenzy reached its height and Richard was maddened by the +idea that a plot was brewing against his life, a pair of strong arms +were needed to hold him down. Over and above this, letters of sympathy +flowed in; grateful patients called to ask with tears in their eyes how +the doctor did; virtual strangers stopped the servant in the street with +the same query. Mary was sometimes quite overwhelmed by the kindness +people showed her. + +The days that preceded the crisis were days of keenest anxiety. But Mary +never allowed her heart to fail her. For if, in the small things of +life, she was given to building on a mortal's good sense, how much more +could she rely at such a pass on the sense of the One above all others. +What she said to herself as she moved tirelessly about the sick room, +damping cloths, filling the ice-bag, infiltering drops of nourishment, +was: "God is good!" and these words, far from breathing a pious +resignation, voiced a confidence so bold that it bordered on +irreverence. Their real meaning was: Richard has still ever so much work +to do in the world, curing sick people and saving their lives. God must +know this, and cannot now mean to be so foolish as to WASTE him, by +letting him die. + +And her reliance on the Almighty's far-sighted wisdom was justified. +Richard weathered the crisis, slowly revived to life and health; and the +day came when, laying a thin white hand on hers, he could whisper: "My +poor little wife, what a fright I must have given you!" And added: "I +think an illness of some kind was due--overdue--with me." + +When he was well enough to bear the journey they left home for a +watering-place on the Bay. There, on an open beach facing the Heads, +Mahony lay with his hat pulled forward to shade his eyes, and with +nothing to do but to scoop up handfuls of the fine coral sand and let it +flow again, like liquid silk, through his fingers. From beneath the brim +he watched the water churn and froth on the brown reefs; followed the +sailing-ships which, beginning as mere dots on the horizon, swelled to +stately white waterbirds, and shrivelled again to dots; drank in, with +greedy nostrils, the mixed spice of warm sea, hot seaweed and aromatic +tea-scrub. + +And his strength came back as rapidly as usual. He soon felt well +enough, leaning on Mary's arm, to stroll up and down the sandy roads of +the township; to open book and newspaper; and finally to descend the +cliffs for a dip in the transparent, turquoise sea. At the end of a +month he was at home again, sunburnt and hearty, eager to pick up the +threads he had let fall. And soon Mary was able to make the comfortable +reflection that everything was going on just as before. + +In this, however, she was wrong; never, in their united lives, would +things be quite the same again. Outwardly, the changes might pass +unnoticed--though even here, it was true, a certain name had now to be +avoided, with which they had formerly made free. But this was not +exactly hard to do, Purdy having promptly disappeared: they heard at +second-hand that he had at last accepted promotion and gone to +Melbourne. And since Mary had suffered no inconvenience from his +thoughtless conduct, they tacitly agreed to let the matter rest. That +was on the surface. Inwardly, the differences were more marked. Even in +the mental attitude they adopted towards what had happened, husband and +wife were thoroughly dissimilar. Mary did not refer to it because she +thought it would be foolish to re-open so disagreeable a subject. In her +own mind, however, she faced it frankly, dating back to it as the night +when Purdy had been so odious and Richard so angry. Mahony, on the other +hand, gave the affair a wide berth even in thought. For him it was a +kind of Pandora's box, of which, having once caught a glimpse of the +contents, he did not again dare to raise the lid. Things might escape +from it that would alter his whole life. But he, too, dated from it in +the sense of suddenly becoming aware, with a throb of regret, that he +had left his youth behind him. And such phrases as: "When I was young," +"In my younger days," now fell instinctively from his lips. + +Nor was this all. Deep down in Mary's soul there slumbered a slight +embarrassment; one she could not get the better of: it spread and grew. +This was a faint, ever so faint a doubt of Richard's wisdom. Odd she had +long known him to be, different in many small and some great ways from +those they lived amongst; but hitherto this very oddness of his had +seemed to her an outgrowth on the side of superiority--fairer judgment, +higher motives. Just as she had always looked up to him as rectitude in +person, so she had thought him the embodiment of a fine, though somewhat +unworldly wisdom. Now her faith in his discernment was shaken. His +treatment of her on the night of the ball had shocked, confused her. She +was ready to make allowance for him: she had told her story clumsily, +and had afterwards been both cross and obstinate; while part of his +violence was certainly to be ascribed to his coming breakdown. But this +did not cover everything; and the ungenerous spirit in which he had met +her frankness, his doubt of her word, of her good faith--his utter +unreasonableness in short--had left a cold patch of astonishment in +her, which would not yield. She lit on it at unexpected moments. +Meanwhile, she groped for an epithet that would fit his behaviour. +Beginning with some rather vague and high-flown terms she gradually came +down, until with the sense of having found the right thing at last, she +fixed on the adjective "silly"--a word which, for the rest, was in +common use with Mary, had she to describe anything that struck her as +queer or extravagant. And sitting over her fancywork, into which, being +what Richard called "safe as the grave," she sewed more thoughts than +most women: sitting thus, she would say to herself with a half smile and +an incredulous shake of the head: "SO silly!" + +But hers was one of those inconvenient natures which trust blindly or +not at all: once worked on by a doubt or a suspicion, they are never +able to shake themselves free of it again. As time went on, she suffered +strange uncertainties where some of Richard's decisions were concerned. +In his good intentions she retained an implicit belief; but she was not +always satisfied that he acted in the wisest way. Occasionally it struck +her that he did not see as clearly as she did; at other times, that he +let a passing whim run away with him and override his common sense. And, +her eyes thus opened, it was not in Mary to stand dumbly by and watch +him make what she held to be mistakes. Openly to interfere, however, +would also have gone against the grain in her; she had bowed for too +long to his greater age and experience. So, seeing no other way out, she +fell back on indirect methods. To her regret. For, in watching other +women "manage" their husbands, she had felt proud to think that nothing +of this kind was necessary between Richard and her. Now she, too, began +to lay little schemes by which, without his being aware of it, she might +influence his judgment, divert or modify his plans. + +Her enforced use of such tactics did not lessen the admiring affection +she bore him: that was framed to withstand harder tests. Indeed, she was +even aware of an added tenderness towards him, now she saw that it +behoved her to have forethought for them both. But into the wife's love +for her husband there crept something of a mother's love for her child; +for a wayward and impulsive, yet gifted creature, whose welfare and +happiness depended on her alone. And it is open to question whether the +mother dormant in Mary did not fall with a kind of hungry joy on this +late-found task. The work of her hands done, she had known empty hours. +That was over now. With quickened faculties, all her senses on the +alert, she watched, guided, hindered, foresaw. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +Old Ocock failed in health that winter. He was really old now, was two +or three and sixty; and, with the oncoming of the rains and cold, gusty +winds, various infirmities began to plague him. + +"He's done himself rather too well since his marriage," said Mahony in +private. "After being a worker for the greater part of his life, it +would have been better for him to work on to the end." + +Yes, that, Mary could understand and agree with. But Richard continued: +"All it means, of course, is that the poor fellow is beginning to +prepare for his last long journey. These aches and pains of his +represent the packing and the strapping without which not even a short +earthly journey can be undertaken. And his is into eternity." + +Mary, making lace over a pillow, looked up at this, a trifle +apprehensively. "What things you do say! If any one heard you, they'd +think you weren't very. . . very religious." Her fear lest Richard's +outspokenness should be mistaken for impiety never left her. + +Tilly was plain and to the point. "Like a bear with a sore back that's +what 'e is, since 'e can't get down among his blessed birds. He leads +Tom the life of the condemned, over the feeding of those bantams. As if +the boy could help 'em not laying when they ought!" + +At thirty-six Tilly was the image of her mother. Entirely gone was the +slight crust of acerbity that had threatened her in her maiden days, +when, thanks to her misplaced affections, it had seemed for a time as if +the purple prizes of life--love, offers of marriage, a home of her own +--were going to pass her by. She was now a stout, high-coloured woman +with a roar of a laugh, full, yet firm lips, and the whitest of teeth. +Mary thought her decidedly toned down and improved since her marriage; +but Mahony put it that the means Tilly now had at her disposal were such +as to make people shut an eye to her want of refinement. However that +might be, "old Mrs. Ocock" was welcomed everywhere--even by those on +whom her bouncing manners grated. She was invariably clad in a thick and +handsome black silk gown, over which she wore all the jewellery she +could crowd on her person--huge cameo brooches, ear-drops, rings and +bracelets, lockets and chains. Her name topped subscription-lists, and, +having early weaned her old husband of his dissenting habits, she was a +real prop to Archdeacon Long and his church, taking the chief and most +expensive table at tea-meetings, the most thankless stall at bazaars. +She kept open house, too, and gave delightful parties, where, while some +sat at loo, others were free to turn the rooms upside-down for a dance, +or to ransack wardrobes and presses for costumes for charades. She drove +herself and her friends about in various vehicles, briskly and well, and +indulged besides in many secret charities. Her husband thought no such +woman had ever trodden the earth, and publicly blessed the day on which +he first set eyes on her. + +"After the dose I'd 'ad with me first, 'twas a bit of a risk, that I +knew. And it put me off me sleep for a night or two before'and. But my +Tilly's the queen o' women--I say the queen, sir! I've never 'ad a +wrong word from 'er, an' when I go she gits every penny I've got. Why, +I'm jiggered if she didn't stop at 'ome from the Races t'other day, an' +all on my account!" + +"Now then, pa, drop it. Or the doctor'll think you've been mixing your +liquors. Give your old pin here and let me poultice it." + +He had another sound reason for gratitude. Somewhere in the background +of his house dwelt his two ne'er-do-well sons; Tilly had accepted their +presence uncomplainingly. Indeed she sometimes stood up for Tom, against +his father. "Now, pa, stop nagging at the boy, will you? You'll never +get anything out of 'im that way. Tom's right enough if you know how to +take him. He'll never set the Thames on fire, if that's what you mean. +But I'm thankful, I can tell you, to have a handy chap like him at my +back. If I 'ad to depend on your silly old paws, I'd never get anything +done at all." + +And so Tom, a flaxen-haired, sheepish-looking man of something over +thirty, led a kind of go-as-you-please existence about the place, a +jack-of-all-trades--in turn carpenter, whitewasher, paper-hanger--an +expert fetcher and carrier, bullied by his father, sheltered under his +stepmother's capacious wing. "It isn't his fault 'e's never come to +anything. 'E hadn't half a chance. The truth is, Mary, for all they say +to the opposite, men are harder than women--so unforgiving-like. Just +because Tom made a slip once, they've never let 'im forget it, but tied +it to 'is coat-tails for 'im to drag with 'im through life. Littleminded +I call it.--Besides, if you ask me, my dear, it must have been a case +of six of one and half a dozen of the other. Tom as sedoocer!--can you +picture it, Mary? It's enough to make one split." And with a meaning +glance at her friend, Tilly broke out in a contagious peal of laughter. + +As for Johnny--well . . . and she shrugged her shoulders. "A bad egg's +bad, Mary, and no amount o' cooking and doctoring 'll sweeten it. But he +didn't make 'imself, did 'e?--and my opinion is, parents should look to +themselves a bit more than they do." + +As she spoke, she threw open the door of the little room where Johnny +housed. It was an odd place. The walls were plastered over with +newspaper-cuttings, with old prints from illustrated journals, with +snippets torn off valentines and keepsakes. Stuck one on another, these +formed a kind of loose wallpaper, which stirred in the draught. Tilly +went on: "I see myself to it being kept cleanish; 'e hates the girl to +come bothering round. Oh, just Johnny's rubbish!" For Mary had stooped +curiously to the table which was littered with a queer collection of +objects: matchboxes on wheels; empty reels of cotton threaded on +strings; bits of wood shaped in rounds and squares; boxes made of paper; +dried seaweed glued in patterns on strips of cardboard. "He's for ever +pottering about with 'em. What amusement 'e gets out of it, only the +Lord can tell." + +She did not mention the fact, known to Mary, that when Johnny had a +drinking-bout it was she who looked after him, got him comfortably to +bed, and made shift to keep the noise from his father's ears. Yes, +Tilly's charity seemed sheerly inexhaustible. + +Again, there was the case of Jinny's children. + +For in this particular winter Tilly had exchanged her black silk for a +stuff gown, heavily trimmed with crepe. She was in mourning for poor +Jinny, who had died not long after giving birth to a third daughter. + +"Died OF the daughter, in more senses than one," was Tilly's verdict. + +John had certainly been extremely put out at the advent of yet another +girl; and the probability was that Jinny had taken his reproaches too +much to heart. However it was, she could not rally; and one day Mary +received a telegram saying that if she wished to see Jinny alive, she +must come at once. No mention was made of Tilly, but Mary ran to her +with the news, and Tilly declared her intention of going, too. "I +suppose I may be allowed to say good-bye to my own sister, even though +I'm not a Honourable?" + +"Not that Jinn and I ever really drew together," she continued as the +train bore them over the ranges. "She'd too much of poor pa in 'er. And +I was all ma. Hard luck that it must just be her who managed to get such +a domineering brute for a husband. You'll excuse me, Mary, won't you?-- +a domineering brute!" + +"And to think I once envied her the match!" she went on meditatively, +removing her bonnet and substituting a kind of nightcap intended to keep +her hair free from dust. "Lauks, Mary, it's a good thing fate doesn't +always take us at our word. We don't know which side our bread's +buttered on, and that's the truth. Why, my dear, I wouldn't exchange my +old boy for all the Honourables in creation!" + +They were in time to take leave of Jinny lying white as her pillows +behind the red rep hangings of the bed. The bony parts of her face had +sprung into prominence, her large soft eyes fallen in. John, stalking +solemnly and noiselessly in a long black coat, himself led the two women +to the bedroom, where he left them; they sat down one on each side of +the great fourposter. Jinny hardly glanced at her sister: it was Mary +she wanted, Mary's hand she fumbled for while she told her trouble. +"It's the children, Mary," she whispered. "I can't die happy because of +the children. John doesn't understand them." Jinny's whole existence was +bound up in the three little ones she had brought into the world. + +"Dearest Jinny, don't fret. I'll look after them for you, and take care +of them," promised Mary wiping away her tears. + +"I thought so," said the dying woman, relieved, but without gratitude: +it seemed but natural to her, who was called upon to give up everything, +that those remaining should make sacrifices. Her fingers plucked at the +sheet. "John's been good to me," she went on, with closed eyes. +"But. . . if it 'adn't been for the children . . . yes, the children.... I +think I'd 'a' done better--" her speech lapsed oddly, after her years of +patient practice--"to 'ave taken . . . to 'a' taken"--the name +remained unspoken. + +Tilly raised astonished eyebrows at Mary. "Wandering!" she telegraphed +in lip-language, forming the word very largely and distinctly; for +neither knew of Jinny having had any but her one glorious chance. + +Tilly's big heart yearned over her sister's forlorn little ones; they +could be heard bleating like lambs for the mother to whom till now they +had never cried in vain. Her instant idea was to gather all three up in +her arms and carry them off to her own roomy, childless home, where she +would have given them a delightful, though not maybe a particularly +discriminating upbringing. But the funeral over, the blinds raised, the +two ladies and the elder babes clad in the stiff, expensive mourning +that befitted the widower's social position, John put his foot down: and +to Mary was extremely explicit: "Under no circumstances will I permit +Matilda to have anything to do with the rearing of my children excellent +creature though she be!" + +On the other hand, he would not have been unwilling for Mary to mother +them. This, of course, was out of the question: Richard had accustomed +himself to Trotty, but would thank you, she knew, for any fresh +encroachment on his privacy. Before leaving, however, she promised to +sound him on the plan of placing Trotty as a weekly boarder at a Young +Ladies' Seminary, and taking the infant in her place. For it came out +that John intended to set Zara--Zara, but newly returned from a second +voyage to England and still sipping like a bee at the sweets of various +situations--at the head of his house once more. And Mary could not +imagine Zara rearing a baby. + +Equally hard was it to understand John not having learnt wisdom from his +two previous failures to live with his sister. But, in seeking tactfully +to revive his memory, she ran up against such an ingrained belief in the +superiority of his own kith and kin that she was baffled, and could only +fold her hands and hope for the best. + +"Besides, Jane's children are infinitely more tractable than poor +Emma's," was John's parting shot.--Strange, thought Mary, how attached +John was to his second family. + +He had still another request to make of her. The reports he received of +the boy Johnny, now a pupil at the Geelong Grammar School, grew worse +from term to term. It had become clear to him that he was unfortunate +enough to possess an out-and-out dullard for a son. Regretfully giving +up, therefore, the design he had cherished of educating Johnny for the +law, he had resolved to waste no more good money on the boy, but to take +him, once he was turned fifteen, into his own business. Young John, +however, had proved refractory, expressing a violent antipathy to the +idea of office-life. "It is here that I should be glad of another +opinion--and I turn to you, Mary, my dear. Jane was of no use whatever +in such matters, none whatever, being, and very properly so, entirely +wrapped up in her own children." So Mary arranged to break her homeward +journey at Geelong, for the purpose of seeing and summing up her nephew. + +Johnny--he was Jack at school, but that, of course, his tomfools of +relations couldn't be expected to remember--Johnny was waiting on the +platform when the train steamed in. "Oh, what a bonny boy!" said Mary to +herself. "All poor Emma's good looks." + +Johnny had been kicking his heels disconsolately: another of these +wretched old women coming down to jaw him! He wished every one of them +at the bottom of the sea. However he pulled himself together and went +forward to greet his aunt: he was not in the least bashful. And as they +left the station he took stock of her, out of the tail of his eye. With +a growing approval: this one at any rate he needn't feel ashamed of; and +she was not so dreadfully old after all. Perhaps she mightn't turn out +quite such a wet blanket as the rest; though, from experience, he +couldn't connect any pleasure with relatives' visits: they were nasty +pills that had to be swallowed. He feared and disliked his father; Aunt +Zara had been sheerly ridiculous, with her frills and simpers--the boys +had imitated her for weeks after--and once, most shameful of all, his +stepmother had come down and publicly wept over him. His cheeks still +burnt at the remembrance; and he had been glad to hear that she was +dead: served her jolly well right! But this Aunt Mary seemed a horse of +another colour; and he did not sneak her into town by a back way, as he +had planned to do before seeing her. + +Greatly as Mary might admire the tall fair lad by her side, she found +herself at a loss how to deal with him, the mind of a schoolboy of +thirteen being a closed book to her. Johnny looked demure and answered +"Yes, Aunt Mary," to everything she said; but this was of small +assistance in getting at the real boy inside. + +Johnny had no intention, in the beginning, of taking her into his +often-betrayed and badly bruised confidence. However a happy instinct led +her to suggest a visit to a shop that sold brandy-snaps and gingerbeer; +and this was too much for his strength of mind. Golly, didn't he have a +tuck-in! And a whole pound of bull's-eyes to take back with him to +school! + +It was over the snaps, with an earth-brown moustache drawn round his +fresh young mouth, the underlip of which swelled like a ripe cherry, +that he blurted out: "I say, Aunt Mary, DON'T let the pater stick me in +that beastly old office of his. I . . . I want to go to sea." + +"Oh, but Johnny! Your father would never consent to that, I'm sure." + +"I don't see why not," returned the boy in an aggrieved voice. "I hate +figures and father knows it. I tell you I mean to go to sea." And as he +said it his lip shot out, and suddenly, for all his limpid blue eyes and +flaxen hair, it was his father's face that confronted Mary. + +"He wouldn't think it respectable enough, dear. He wants you to rise +higher in the world, and to make money. You must remember who he is." + +"Bosh!" said Johnny. "Look at Uncle Ned . . . and Uncle Jerry . . . and +the governor himself. He didn't have to sit in a beastly old hole of an +office when he was my age." + +"That was quite different," said Mary weakly. "And as for your Uncle +Jerry, Johnny--why, afterwards he was as glad as could be to get into +an office at all." + +"Well, I'd sooner be hanged!" retorted young John. But the next minute +flinging away dull care, he inquired briskly: "Can you play tipcat, Aunt +Mary?" And vanquished by her air of kindly interest, he gave her his +supreme confidence. "I say, don't peach, will you, but I've got a white +rat. I keep it in a locker under my bed." + +A NICE FRANK HANDSOME BOY, wrote Mary. DON'T BE TOO HARD ON HIM, JOHN. +HIS GREAT WISH IS TO TRAVEL AND SEE THE WORLD--OR AS HE PUTS IT, TO GO +TO SEA. MIGHTN'T IT BE A GOOD THING TO HUMOUR HIM IN THIS? A TASTE OF +THE HARDSHIPS OF LIFE WOULD SOON CURE HIM OF ANY SUCH FANCIES. + +"Stuff and nonsense!" said John the father, and threw the letter from +him. "I didn't send Mary there to let the young devil get round her like +that." And thereupon he wrote to the Headmaster that the screw was to be +applied to Johnny as never before. This was his last chance. If it +failed, and his next report showed no improvement, he would be taken +away without further ado and planked down under his father's nose. No +son of his should go to sea, he was damned if they should! For, like +many another who has yielded to the wandering passion in his youth, John +had small mercy on it when it reared its head in his descendants. + + + + +Chapter IX + +Henry Ocock was pressing for a second opinion; his wife had been in poor +health since the birth of her last child. Mahony drove to Plevna House +one morning between nine and ten o'clock. + +A thankless task lay before him. Mrs. Henry's case had been a fruitful +source of worry to him; and he now saw nothing for it but a straight +talk with Henry himself. + +He drove past what had once been the Great Swamp. From a bed of +cattle-ploughed mud interspersed with reedy water-holes; in summer a dry +and dust-swept hollow: from this, the vast natural depression had been +transformed into a graceful lake, some three hundred acres in extent. On +its surface pleasure boats lay at their moorings by jetties and +boatsheds; groups of stiff-necked swans sailed or ducked and straddled; +while shady walks followed the banks, where the whiplike branches of the +willows, showing shoots of tenderest green, trailed in the water or +swayed like loose harp-strings to the breeze. + +All the houses that had sprung up round Lake Wendouree had well-stocked +spreading grounds; but Ocock's outdid the rest. The groom opening a pair +of decorative iron gates which were the showpiece of the neighbourhood, +Mahony turned in and drove past exotic firs, Moreton Bay fig-trees and +araucarias; past cherished English hollies growing side by side with +giant cacti. In one corner stood a rockery, where a fountain played and +goldfish swam in a basin. The house itself, of brick and two-storeyed, +with massive bay-windows, had an ornamental verandah on one side. The +drawing-room was a medley of gilt and lustres, mirrors and glass shades; +the finest objects from Dandaloo had been brought here, only to be +outdone by Henry's own additions. Yes, Ocock lived in grand style +nowadays, as befitted one of the most important men in the town. His old +father once gone--and Mahony alone knew why the latter's existence +acted as a drag--he would no doubt stand for Parliament. + +Invited to walk into the breakfast-room, Mahony there found the family +seated at table. It was a charming scene. Behind the urn Mrs. Henry, in +be-ribboned cap and morning wrapper, dandled her infant; while Henry, in +oriental gown and Turkish fez, had laid his newspaper by to ride his +young son on his foot. Mahony refused tea or coffee; but could not avoid +drawing up a chair, touching the peachy cheeks of the children held +aloft for his inspection, and meeting a fire of playful sallies and +kindly inquiries. As he did so, he was sensitively aware that it fell to +him to break up the peace of this household. Only he knew the canker +that had begun to eat at its roots. + +The children borne off, Mrs. Henry interrogated her husband's pleasure +with a pretty: "May I?" or "Should I?" lift of the brows; and gathering +that he wished her to retire, laid her small, plump hand in Mahony's, +sent a graceful message to "dearest Mary," and swept the folds of her +gown from the room. Henry followed her with a well-pleased eye--his +opinion was no secret that, in figure and bearing, his wife bore a +marked resemblance to her Majesty the Queen--and admonished her not to +fail to partake of some light refreshment during the morning, in the +shape of a glass of sherry and a biscuit. "Unless, my love, you prefer +me to order cook to whip you up an egg-nog.--Mrs. Ocock is, I regret to +say, entirely without appetite again," he went on, as the door closed +behind his wife. "What she eats is not enough to keep a sparrow going. +You must prove your skill, doctor, and oblige us by prescribing a still +more powerful tonic or appetiser. The last had no effect whatever." He +spoke from the hearthrug, where he had gone to warm his skirts at the +wood fire, audibly fingering the while a nest of sovereigns in a +waistcoat pocket. + +"I feared as much," said Mahony gravely; and therewith took the plunge. + +When some twenty minutes later he emerged from the house, he was +unaccompanied, and himself pulled the front door to behind him. He stood +frowning heavily as he snapped the catches of his gloves, and fell foul +of the groom over a buckle of the harness, in a fashion that left the +man open-mouthed. "Blow me, if I don't believe he's got the sack!" +thought the man in driving townwards. + +The abrupt stoppage of Richard's visits to Plevna House staggered Mary. +And since she could get nothing out of her husband, she tied on her +bonnet and went off hotfoot to question her friend. But Mrs. Henry +tearfully declared her ignorance she had listened in fear and trembling +to the sound of the two angry voices--and Henry was adamant. They had +already called in another doctor. + +Mary came home greatly distressed, and, Richard still wearing his +obstinate front, she ended by losing her temper. He knew well enough, +said she, it was not her way to interfere or to be inquisitive about his +patients; but this was different; this had to do with one of her dearest +friends; she must know. In her ears rang Agnes's words: "Henry told me, +love, he wouldn't insult me by repeating what your husband said of me. +Oh, Mary, isn't it dreadful? And when I liked him so as a doctor!"--She +now repeated them aloud. + +This was too much for Mahony. He blazed up. "The confounded +mischiefmonger--the backbiter! Well, if you will have it, wife, here +you are . . . here's the truth. What I said to Ocock was: I said, my +good man, if you want your wife to get over her next confinement more +quickly, keep the sherry-decanter out of her reach." + +Mary gasped and sank on a chair, letting her arms flop to her side. +"Richard!" she ejaculated. "Oh, Richard, you never did!" + +"I did indeed, my dear.--Oh well, not in just those words, of course; +we doctors must always wrap the truth up in silver paper.--And I should +feel it my duty to do the same again to-morrow; though there are +pleasanter things in life, Mary, I can assure you, than informing a low +mongrel like Ocock that his wife is drinking on the sly. You can have no +notion, my dear, of the compliments one calls down on one's head by so +doing. The case is beyond my grasp, of course, and I am cloaking my own +shortcomings by making scandalous insinuations against a delicate lady, +who 'takes no more than her position entitles her to'--his very words, +Mary!--'for the purpose of keeping up her strength.'" And Mahony +laughed hotly. + +"Yes, but was it--I mean. . . was it really necessary to say it?" +stammered Mary still at sea. And as her husband only shrugged his +shoulders: "Then I can't pretend to be surprised at what has happened, +Richard. Mr. Henry will NEVER forgive you. He thinks so much of +everything and every one belonging to him." + +"Pray, can I help that? . . . help his infernal pride? And, good God, +Mary, can't you see that, far more terrible than my having had to tell +him the truth, is the fact of there being such a truth to tell?" + +"Oh yes, indeed I can," and the warm tears rushed to Mary's eyes. "Poor, +poor little Agnes!--Richard, it comes of her having once been married +to that dreadful man. And though she doesn't say so, yet I don't believe +she's really happy in her second marriage either. There are so many +things she's not allowed to do--and she's afraid of Mr. Henry, I know +she is. You see he's displeased when she's dull or unwell; she must +always be bright and look pretty; and I expect the truth is, since her +illness she has taken to taking things, just to keep her spirits up." +Here Mary saw a ray of light, and snatched at it. "But in that case +mightn't the need for them pass, as she grows stronger?" + +"I lay no claim to be a prophet, my dear." + +"For it does seem strange that I never noticed anything," went on Mary, +more to herself than to him. "I've seen Agnes at all hours of the +day. . . when she wasn't in the least expecting visitors.--Yes, Richard, I +do know people sometimes eat things to take the smell away. But the idea +of Agnes doing anything so . . . so low--oh, isn't it JUST possible there +might be some mistake?" + +"Oh, well, if you're going to imitate Ocock and try to teach me my +business!" gave back Mahony with an angry gesture, and sitting down at +the table, he pulled books and papers to him. + +"As if such a thing would ever occur to me! It's only that . . . that +somehow my brain won't take it in. Agnes has always been such a dear +good little soul, all kindness. She's never done anybody any harm or +said a hard word about any one, all the years I've known her. I simply +CAN'T believe it of her, and that's the truth. As for what people will +say when it gets about that you've been shown the door in a house like +Mr. Henry's--why, I'm afraid even to think of it!" and powerless any +longer to keep back her tears, Mary hastened from the room. + +But she also thought it wiser to get away before Richard had time to +frame the request that she should break off all intercourse with Plevna +House. This, she could never promise to do; and the result might be a +quarrel. Whereas if she avoided giving her word, she would be free to +slip out now and then to see poor Agnes, when Richard was on his rounds +and Mr. Henry at business. But this was the only point clear to her. In +standing up for her friend she had been perfectly sincere: to think ill +of a person she cared for, cost Mary an inward struggle. Against this, +however, she had an antipathy to set that was almost stronger than +herself. Of all forms of vice, intemperance was the one she hated most. +She lived in a country where it was, alas! only too common; but she had +never learnt to tolerate it, or to look with a lenient eye on those who +succumbed: and whether these were but slaves of the nipping habit; or +the eternal dram-drinkers who felt fit for nothing if they had not a peg +inside them; or those seasoned topers who drank their companions under +the table without themselves turning a hair; or yet again those who, +sober for three parts of the year, spent the fourth in secret debauches. +Herself she had remained as rigidly abstemious as in the days of her +girlhood. And she often mused, with a glow at her heart, on her great +good fortune in having found in Richard one whose views on this subject +were no less strict than her own. Hence her distress at his disclosure +was caused not alone by the threatened loss of a friendship: she wept +for the horror with which the knowledge filled her. + +Little by little, though, her mind worked round to what was, after all, +the chief consideration: Richard's action and its probable consequences. +And here once more she was divided against herself. For a moment she had +hoped her husband would own the chance of him being in error. But she +soon saw that this would never do. A mistake on his part would be a blow +to his reputation. Besides making enemies of people like the Henrys for +nothing. If he had to lose them as patients, it might as well be for a +good solid reason, she told herself with a dash of his own asperity. No, +it was a case of either husband or friend. And though she pitied Agnes +from the bottom of her heart, yet there were literally no lengths she +would have shrunk from going to, to spare Richard pain or even anxiety. +And this led her on to wonder whether, granted things were as he said, +he had approached Mr. Henry in the most discreet way. Could he not have +avoided a complete break? She sat and pondered this question till her +head ached, finding herself up against the irreconcilability of the +practical with the ideal which complicates a man's working life. What +she belatedly tried to think out for her husband was some little +common-sense stratagem by means of which he could have salved his +conscience, without giving offence. He might have said that the drugs he +was prescribing would be nullified by the use of wine or spirits; even +better, have warned Agnes in private. Somehow, it might surely have been +managed. Mr. Henry had no doubt been extremely rude and overbearing; but +in earlier years Richard had known how to behave towards ill-breeding. +She couldn't tell why, but he was finding it more and more difficult to +get on with people nowadays. He certainly had a very great deal to do, +and was often tired out. Again, he did not need to care so much as +formerly whether he offended people or not--ordinary patients, that +was; the Henrys, of course, were of the utmost consequence. Still, once +on a time he had been noted for his tact; it was sad to see it leaving +him in the lurch. Several times of late she had been forced to step in +and smooth out awkwardnesses. But a week ago he had had poor little +Amelia Grindle up in arms, by telling her that her sickly first-born +would mentally never be quite like other children. To every one else +this had been plain from the outset; but Amelia had suspected nothing, +having, poor thing, no idea when a babe ought to begin to take notice or +cut its teeth. Richard said it was better for her to face the truth +betimes than to spend her life vainly hoping and fretting; indeed, it +would not be right of him to allow it. Poor dear Richard! He set such +store by truth and principle--and she, Mary, would not have had him +otherwise. All the same, she thought that in both cases a small +compromise would not have hurt him. But compromise he would not . . . or +could not. And as, recalled to reality by the sight of the week's +washing, which strained, ballooned, collapsed, on its lines in the yard +--Biddy was again letting the clothes get much too dry!--as Mary rose +to her feet, she manfully squared her shoulders to meet the weight of +the new burden that was being laid on them. + +With regard to Mahony, it might be supposed that having faithfully done +what he believed to be his duty, he would enjoy the fruits of a quiet +mind. This was not so. Before many hours had passed he was wrestling +with the incident anew; and a true son of that nation which, for all its +level-headedness, spends its best strength in fighting shadows, he felt +a great deal angrier in retrospect than he had done at the moment. It +was not alone the fact of him having got his conge--no medico was safe +from THAT punch below the belt. His bitterness was aimed at himself. +Once more he had let himself be hoodwinked; had written down the smooth +civility it pleased Ocock to adopt towards him to respect and esteem. +Now that the veil was torn, he saw how poor the lawyer's opinion of him +actually was. And always had been. For a memory was struggling to emerge +in him, setting strings in vibration. And suddenly there rose before him +a picture of Ocock that time had dimmed. He saw the latter standing in +the dark, crowded lobby of the court-house, cursing at him for letting +their witness escape. There it was! There, in these two scenes, far +apart as they lay, you had the whole man. The unctuous blandness, the +sleek courtesy was but a mask, which he wore for you just so long as you +did not hinder him by getting in his way. That was the unpardonable sin. +For Ocock was out to succeed--to succeed at any price and by any means. +In tracing his course, no goal but this had ever stood before him. The +obligations that bore on your ordinary mortal--a sense of honesty, of +responsibility to one's fellows, the soft pull of domestic ties--did +not trouble Ocock. He laughed them down, or wrung their necks like so +many pullets. And should the poor little woman who bore his name become +a drag on him, she would be tossed on to the rubbish-heap with the rest. +In a way, so complete a freedom from altruistic motives had something +grandiose about it. But those who ran up against it, and could not fight +it with its own weapons, had not an earthly chance. + +Thus Mahony sat in judgment, giving rein for once to his ingrained +dislike for the man of whom he had now made an enemy. In whose debt, for +the rest, he stood deep. And had done, ever since the day he had been +fool enough, like the fly in the nursery rhyme, to seek out Ocock and +his familiars in their grimy little "parlour" in Chancery Lane. + +But his first heat spent he soon cooled down, and was able to laugh at +the stagy explosiveness of his attitude. So much for the personal side +of the matter. Looked at from a business angle it was more serious. The +fact of him having been shown the door by a patient of Ocock's standing +was bound, as Mary saw, to react unfavourably on the rest of the +practice. The news would run like wildfire through the place; never were +such hotbeds of gossip as these colonial towns. Besides, the colleague +who had been called in to Mrs. Agnes in his stead, was none too well +disposed towards him. + +His fears were justified. It quickly got about that he had made a +blunder: all Mrs. Henry needed, said the new-comer, was change of air +and scene; and forthwith the lady was packed off on a trial trip to +Sydney. Mahony held his head high, and refused to notice looks and +hints. But he knew all about what went on behind his back: he was +morbidly sensitive to atmosphere; could tell how a house was charged as +soon as he crossed the threshold. People were saying: a mistake there, +why not here, too? Slow recoveries asked themselves if a fresh treatment +might not benefit them; lovers of blue pills hungered for more drastic +remedies. The disaffection would blow over, of course; but it was +painful while it lasted; and things were not bettered by one of his +patients choosing just this inconvenient moment to die--an elderly man, +down with the Russian influenza, who disobeyed orders, got up too early +and was carried off by double pneumonia inside a week.--Worry over the +mishap robbed his poor medical attendant of sleep for several nights on +end. + +Not that this was surprising; he found it much harder than of old to +keep his mind from running on his patients outside working-hours. In his +younger days he had laid down fixed rules on this score. Every +brainworker, he held, must in his spare time be able to detach his +thoughts from his chief business, pin them to something of quite another +kind, no matter how trivial: keep fowls or root round gardens, play the +flute or go in for carpentry. Now, he might have dug till his palms +blistered, it would not help. Those he prescribed for teased him like a +pack of spirit-presences, which clamour to be heard. And if a serious +case took a turn for the worse, he would find himself rising in a sweat +of uncertainty, and going lamp in hand into the surgery, to con over a +prescription he had written during the day. And one knew where THAT kind +of thing led! + +Now, as if all this were not enough, there was added to it the old, +evergreen botheration about money. + + + + +Chapter X + +Thus far, Ocock had nursed his mining investments for him with a +fatherly care. He himself had been free as a bird from responsibility. +Every now and again he would drop in at the office, just to make sure +the lawyer was on the alert; and each time he came home cheerful with +confidence. That was over now. As a first result of the breach, he +missed--or so he believed--clearing four hundred pounds. Among the +shares he held was one lot which till now had proved a sorry bargain. +Soon after purchase something had gone wrong with the management of the +claim; there had been a lawsuit, followed by calls unending and never a +dividend. Now, when these shares unexpectedly swung up to a high level-- +only to drop the week after to their standing figure--Ocock failed to +sell out in the nick of time. Called to account, he replied that it was +customary in these matters for his clients to advise him; thus deepening +Mahony's sense of obligation. Stabbed in his touchiness, he wrote for +all his scrip to be handed over to him; and thereafter loss and gain +depended on himself alone. It certainly brought a new element of variety +into his life. The mischief was, he could get to his study of the +money-market only with a fagged brain. And the fear lest he should do +something rash or let a lucky chance slip kept him on tenter-hooks. + +It was about this time that Mary, seated one evening in face of her +husband, found herself reflecting: "When one comes to think of it, how +seldom Richard ever smiles nowadays." + +For a wonder they were at a soiree together, at the house of one of +Mahony's colleagues. The company consisted of the inner circle of +friends and acquaintances: "Always the same people--the old job lot! +One knows before they open their mouths what they'll say and how they'll +say it," Richard had grumbled as he dressed. The Henry Ococks were not +there though, it being common knowledge that the two men declined to +meet; and a dash of fresh blood was present in the shape of a lady and +gentleman just "out from home." Richard got into talk with this couple, +and Mary, watching him fondly, could not but be struck by his animation. +His eyes lit up, he laughed and chatted, made merry repartee: she was +carried back to the time when she had known him first. In those days his +natural gravity was often cut through by a mood of high spirits, of +boyish jollity, which, if only by way of contrast, rendered him a +delightful companion. She grew a little wistful, as she sat comparing +present with past. And loath though she was to dig deep, for fear of +stirring up uncomfortable things, she could not escape the discovery +that, in spite of all his success--and his career there had surpassed +their dearest hopes--in spite of the natural gifts fortune had showered +on him, Richard was not what you would call a happy man. No, nor even +moderately happy. Why this should be, it went beyond her to say. He had +everything he could wish for: yes, everything, except perhaps a little +more time to himself, and better health. He was not as strong as she +would have liked to see him. Nothing radically wrong, of course, but +enough to fidget him. Might not this . . . this--he himself called it +"want of tone"--be a reason for the scant pleasure he got out of life? +And: "I think I'll pop down and see Dr. Munce about him one morning, +without a word to him," was how she eased her mind and wound up her +reverie. + +But daylight, and the most prosaic hours of the twenty-four, made the +plan look absurd. + +Once alive though to his condition, she felt deeply sorry for him in his +patent inability ever to be content. It was a thousand pities. Things +might have run so smoothly for him, he have got so much satisfaction out +of them, if only he could have braced himself to regard life in cheerier +fashion. But at this Mary stopped . . . and wondered . . . and wondered. +Was that really true? Positively her experiences of late led her to +believe that Richard would be less happy still if he had nothing to be +unhappy about.--But dear me! this was getting out of her depth +altogether. She shook her head and rebuked herself for growing fanciful. + +All the same, her new glimpse of his inmost nature made her doubly +tender of thwarting him; hence, she did not set her face as firmly as +she might otherwise have done, against a wild plan he now formed of +again altering, or indeed rebuilding the house; although she could +scarcely think of it with patience. She liked her house so well as it +stood; and it was amply big enough: there was only the pair of +them. . . and John's child. It had the name, she knew, of being one of the +most comfortable and best-kept in Ballarat. Brick for solidity, where wood +prevailed, with a wide snowy verandah up the posts of which rare +creepers ran, twining their tendrils one with another to form a screen +against the sun. Now, what must Richard do but uproot the creepers and +pull down the verandah, thus baring the walls to the fierce summer heat; +plaster over the brick; and, more outlandish still, add a top storey. +When she came back from Melbourne, where she had gone a-visiting to +escape the upset--Richard, ordinarily so sensitive, had managed to +endure it quite well, thus proving that he COULD put up with discomfort +if he wanted to--when she saw it again, Mary hardly recognised her +home. Personally she thought it ugly, for all its grandeur; changed +wholly for the worse. Nor did time ever reconcile her to the upper +storey. Domestic worries bred from it: the servant went off in a huff +because of the stairs; they were at once obliged to double their staff. +To cap it all, with its flat front unbroken by bay or porch, the house +looked like no other in the town. Now, instead of passing admiring +remarks, people stood stock-still before the gate to laugh at its droll +appearance. + +Yet, she would gladly have made the best of this, had Richard been the +happier for it. He was not--or only for the briefest of intervals. Then +his restlessness broke out afresh. + +There came days when nothing suited him; not his fine consulting room, +or the improved furnishings of the house, or even her cookery of which +he had once been so fond. He grew dainty to a degree; she searched her +cookery-book for piquant recipes. Next he fell to imagining it was +unhealthy to sleep on feathers, and went to the expense of having a hard +horsehair mattress made to fit the bed. Accustomed to the softest down, +he naturally tossed and turned all night long, and rose in the morning +declaring he felt as though he had been beaten with sticks. The mattress +was stowed away in a lean-to behind the kitchen, and there it remained. +It was not alone. Mary sometimes stood and considered, with a rueful +eye, the many discarded objects that bore it company. Richard--oddly +enough he was ever able to poke fun at himself--had christened this +outhouse "the cemetery of dead fads." Here was a set of Indian clubs he +had been going to harden his muscles with every morning, and had used +for a week; together with an india-rubber gymnastic apparatus bought for +the same purpose. Here stood a patent shower-bath, that was to have +dashed energy over him after a bad night, and had only succeeded in +giving him acute neuralgia; a standing-desk he had broken his back at +for a couple of days; a homoeopathic medicine-chest and a phrenological +head--both subjects he had meant to satisfy his curiosity by looking +into, had time not failed him. Mary sighed, when she thought of the +waste of good money these and similar articles stood for. (Some day he +would just have them privately carted away to auction!) But if Richard +set his heart on a thing he wanted it so badly, so much more than other +people did, that he knew no peace till he had it. + +Mahony read in his wife's eyes the disapproval she was too wise to +utter. At any other time her silent criticism would have galled him; in +this case, he took shelter behind it. Let her only go on setting him +down for lax and spendthrift, incapable of knowing his own mind. He +would be sorry, indeed, for her to guess how matters really stood with +him. The truth was, he had fallen a prey to utter despondency, was +become so spiritless that it puzzled even himself. He thought he could +trace some of the mischief back to the professional knocks and jars +Ocock's action had brought down on him: to hear one's opinion doubted, +one's skill questioned, was the tyro's portion; he was too old to treat +such insolence with the scorn it deserved. Of course he had lived the +affair down; but the result of it would seem to be a bottomless ENNUI, a +TEDIUM VITAE that had something pathological about it. Under its +influence the homeliest trifles swelled to feats beyond his strength. +There was, for instance, the putting on and off one's clothing: this +infinite boredom of straps and buttons--and all for what? For a day +that would be an exact copy of the one that had gone before, a night as +unrefreshing as the last. Did any one suspect that there were moments +when he quailed before this job, suspect that more than once he had even +reckoned the number of times he would be called on to perform it, day +in, day out, till that garment was put on him that came off no more; or +that he could understand and feel sympathy with those faint souls--and +there were such--who laid hands on themselves rather than go on doing +it: did this get abroad, he would be considered ripe for Bedlam. + +Physician, heal thyself! He swallowed doses of a tonic preparation, and +put himself on a fatty diet. + +Thereafter he tried to take a philosophic view of his case. He had now, +he told himself, reached an age when such a state of mind gave cause +neither for astonishment nor alarm. How often had it not fallen to him, +in his role of medical adviser, to reassure a patient on this score. The +arrival of middle age brought about a certain lowness of spirits in even +the most robust: along with a more or less marked bodily languor went an +uneasy sense of coming loss: the time was at hand to bid farewell to +much that had hitherto made life agreeable; and for most this was a +bitter pill. Meanwhile, one held a kind of mental stocktaking. As often +as not by the light of a complete disillusionment. Of the many glorious +things one had hoped to do--or to be--nothing was accomplished: the +great realisation, in youth breathlessly chased but never grasped, was +now seen to be a mist-wraith, which could wear a thousand forms, but +invariably turned to air as one came up with it. In nine instances out +of ten there was nothing to put in its place; and you began to ask +yourself in a kind of horrific amaze: "Can this be all? . . . THIS? For +this the pother of growth, the struggles, and the sufferings?" The +soul's climacteric, if you would, from which a mortal came forth dulled +to resignation; or greedy for the few physical pleasures left him; or +prone to that tragic clinging to youth's skirts, which made the later +years of many women and not a few men ridiculous. In each case the +motive power was the same: the haunting fear that one had squeezed life +dry; worse still, that it had not been worth the squeezing. + +Thus his reason. But, like a tongue of flame, his instinct leapt up to +give combat. By the gods, this cap did NOT fit him! Squeezed life +try? . . . found it not worth while? Why, he had never got within +measurable distance of what he called life, at all! There could be no +question of him resigning himself: deep down in him, he knew, was an +enormous residue of vitality, of untouched mental energy that only waited +to be drawn on. It was like a buried treasure, jealously kept for the +event of his one day catching up with life: not the bare scramble for a +living that here went by that name, but Life with a capital L, the +existence he had once confidently counted on as his--a tourney of +spiritual adventuring, of intellectual excitement, in which the prize +striven for was not money or anything to do with money. Far away, +thousands of miles off, luckier men than he were in the thick of it. He, +of his own free will, had cut himself adrift, and now it was too late. + +But was it? Had the time irretrievably gone by? The ancient idea of +escape, long dormant, suddenly reawoke in him with a new force. And, +once stirring, it was not to be silenced, but went on sounding like a +ground-tone through all he did. At first he shut his ears to it, to +dally with side issues. For example, he worried the question why the +breaking-point should only now have been reached and not six months, a +year ago. It was quibbling to lay the whole blame on Ocock's shoulders. +The real cause went deeper, was of older growth. And driving his mind +back over the past, he believed he could pin his present loss of grip to +that fatal day on which he learnt that his best friend had betrayed him. +Things like that gave you a crack that would not mend. He had been +rendered suspicious where he had once been credulous; prone to see evil +where no evil was. For, deceived by Purdy, in whom could he trust? Of a +surety not in the pushful set of jobbers and tricksters he was condemned +to live amongst. No discoveries he might make about them would surprise +him.--And once more the old impotent anger with himself broke forth, +that he should ever have let himself take root in such detestable +surroundings. + +Why not shake the dust of the country off his feet?--From this direct +attack he recoiled, casting up his hands as if against the evil eye. +What next? But exclaim as he might, now that the idea had put on words, +it was by no means so simple to fend it off as when it had been a mere +vague humming at the back of his mind. It seized him; swept his brain +bare of other thoughts. He began to look worn. And never more so than +when he imagined himself taking the bull by the horns and asking Mary's +approval of his wild-goose scheme. He could picture her face, when she +heard that he planned throwing up his fine position and decamping on +nothing a year. The vision was a cold douche to his folly. No, no! it +would not do. You could not accustom a woman to ease and luxury and +then, when you felt YOU had had enough and would welcome a return to +Spartan simplicity, to an austere clarity of living, expect her to be +prepared, at the word, to step back into poverty. One was bound . . . +bound . . . and by just those silken threads which, in premarital days, +had seemed sheerly desirable. He wondered now what it would be like to +stand free as the wind, answerable only to himself. The bare thought of +it filled him as with the rushing of wings. + +Once he had been within an ace of cutting and running. That was in the +early days, soon after his marriage. Trade had petered out; and there +would have been as little to leave behind as to carry with him. But, +even so, circumstances had proved too strong for him: what with Mary's +persuasions and John's intermeddling, his scheme had come to nothing. +And if, with so much in his favour, he had not managed to carry it out, +how in all the world could he hope to now, when every thing conspired +against him. It was, besides, excusable in youth to challenge fortune; a +very different matter for one of his age. + +Of his age! . . . the words gave him pause. By their light he saw why he +had knuckled under so meekly, at the time of his first attempt. It was +because then a few years one way or another did not signify; he had them +to spare. Now, each individual year was precious to him; he parted with +it lingeringly, unwillingly. Time had taken to flashing past, too; +Christmas was hardly celebrated before it was again at the door. Another +ten years or so and he would be an old man, and it would in very truth +be too late. The tempter voice--in this case also the voice of reason-- +said: now or never! + +But when he came to look the facts in the face his heart failed him +anew, so heavily did the arguments against his taking such a step--and, +true to his race, it was these he began by marshalling--weigh down the +scales. He should have done it, if done it was to be, +five . . . three . . . even a couple of years ago. Each day that dawned +added to the tangle, made the idea seem more preposterous. Local dignities +had been showered on him: he sat on the Committees of the District +Hospital and the Benevolent Asylum; was Honorary Medical Officer to this +Society and that; a trustee of the church; one of the original founders of +the Mechanics' Institute; vice-president of the Botanical Society; and so +on, AD INFINITUM. His practice was second to none; his visiting-book +rarely shewed a blank space; people drove in from miles round to consult +him. In addition, he had an extremely popular wife, a good house and +garden, horses and traps, and a sure yearly income of some twelve or +thirteen hundred. Of what stuff was he made, that he could lightly +contemplate turning his back on prizes such as these? + +Even as he told them off, however, the old sense of hollowness was upon +him again. His life there reminded him of a gaudy drop-scene, let down +before an empty stage; a painted sham, with darkness and vacuity behind. +At bottom, none of these distinctions and successes meant anything to +him; not a scrap of mental pabulum could be got from them: rather would +he have chosen to be poor and a nobody among people whose thoughts flew +to meet his half-way. And there was also another side to it. Stingy +though the years had been of intellectual grist, they had not scrupled +to rob him of many an essential by which he set store. His old faculty-- +for good or evil--of swift decision, for instance. It was lost to him +now; as witness his present miserable vacillation. It had gone off +arm-in-arm with his health; physically he was but a ghost of the man he +had once been. But the bitterest grudge he bore the life was for the +shipwreck it had made of his early ideals. He remembered the pure joy, +the lofty sentiments with which he had returned to medicine. Bah!-- +there had been no room for any sentimental nonsense of that kind here. +He had long since ceased to follow his profession disinterestedly; the +years had made a hack of him--a skilled hack, of course--but just a +hack. He had had no time for study; all his strength had gone in keeping +his income up to a certain figure; lest the wife should be less well +dressed and equipped than her neighbours; or patients fight shy of him; +or his confreres wag their tongues.--Oh! he had adapted himself +supremely well to the standards of this Australia, so-called Felix. And +he must not complain if, in so doing, he had been stripped, not only of +his rosy dreams, but also of that spiritual force on which he could once +have drawn at will. Like a fool he had believed it possible to serve +mammon with impunity, and for as long as it suited him. He knew better +now. At this moment he was undergoing the sensations of one who, having +taken shelter in what he thinks a light and flimsy structure, finds that +it is built of the solidest stone. Worse still: that he has been walled +up inside. + +And even suppose he COULD pull himself together for the effort required, +how justify his action in the eyes of the world? His motives would be +double-dutch to the hard-headed crew around him; nor would any go to the +trouble of trying to understand. There was John. All John would see was +an elderly and not over-robust man deliberately throwing away the fruits +of year-long toil--and for what? For the privilege of, in some remote +spot, as a stranger and unknown, having his way to make all over again; +of being free to shoulder once more the risks and hazards the +undertaking involved. And little though he cared for John or any one +else's opinion, Mahony could not help feeling a trifle sore, in advance, +at the ridicule of which he might be the object, at the zanyish figure +he was going to be obliged to cut. + +But a fig for what people thought of him! Once away from here he would, +he thanked God, never see any of them again. No, it was Mary who was the +real stumbling-block, the opponent he most feared. Had he been less +attached to her, the thing would have been easier; as it was, he shrank +from hurting her. And hurt and confuse her he must. He knew Mary as well +--nay, better than he knew his own unreckonable self. For Mary was not a +creature of moods, did not change her mental envelope a dozen times a +day. And just his precise knowledge of her told him that he would never +get her to see eye to eye with him. Her clear, serene outlook was +attuned to the plain and the practical; she would discover a thousand +drawbacks to his scheme, but nary a one of the incorporeal benefits he +dreamed of reaping from it. There was his handling of money for one +thing: she had come, he was aware, to regard him as incurably +extravagant; and it would be no easy task to convince her that he could +learn again to fit his expenses to a light purse. She had a woman's +instinctive distrust, too, of leaving the beaten track. Another point +made him still more dubious. Mary's whole heart and happiness were bound +up in this place where she had spent the flower-years of her life: who +knew if she would thrive as well on other soil? He found it intolerable +to think that she might have to pay for his want of stability.--Yes, +reduced to its essentials, it came to mean the pitting of one soul's +welfare against that of another; was a toss-up between his happiness and +hers. One of them would have to yield. Who would suffer more by doing so +--he or she? He believed that a sacrifice on his part would make the +wreck of his life complete. On hers--well, thanks to her doughty habit +of finding good everywhere, there was a chance of her coming out +unscathed. + +Here was his case in a nutshell. + +Still he did not tackle Mary. For sometimes, after all, a disturbed +doubt crept upon him whether it would not be possible to go on as he +was; instead of, as she would drastically word it, cutting his throat +with his own hand. And to be perfectly honest, he believed it would. He +could now afford to pay for help in his work; to buy what books he +needed or fancied; to take holidays while putting in a LOCUM; even to +keep on the LOCUM, at a good salary, while he journeyed overseas to +visit the land of his birth. But at this another side of him--what he +thought of as spirit, in contradistinction to soul--cried out in alarm, +fearful lest it was again to be betrayed. Thus far, though by rights +coequal in the house of the body, it had been rigidly kept down. +Nevertheless it had persisted, like a bright cold little spark at dead +of night: his restlessness, the spiritual malaise that encumbered him +had been its mute form of protest. Did he go on turning a deaf ear to +its warnings, he might do himself irreparable harm. For time was flying, +the sum of his years mounting, shrinking that roomy future to which he +had thus far always postponed what seemed too difficult for the moment. +Now he saw that he dared delay no longer in setting free the imprisoned +elements in him, was he ever to grow to that complete whole which each +mortal aspires to be.--That a change of environment would work this +miracle he did not doubt; a congenial environment was meat and drink to +him, was light and air. Here in this country, he had remained as utterly +alien as any Jew of old who wept by the rivers of Babylon. And like a +half-remembered tune there came floating into his mind words he had lit +on somewhere, or learnt on the school-bench--Horace, he thought, but, +whatever their source, words that fitted his case to a nicety. COELUM, +NON ANIMUM, MUTANT, QUI TRANS MARE CURRUNT. "Non animum"? Ah! could he +but have foreseen this--foreknown it. If not before he set sail on what +was to have been but a swift adventure, then at least on that fateful +day long past when, foiled by Mary's pleadings and his own inertia, he +had let himself be bound anew. + +Thus the summer dragged by; a summer to try the toughest. Mahony thought +he had never gone through its like for heat and discomfort. The drought +would not break, and on the great squatting-stations round Ballarat and +to the north, the sheep dropped like flies at an early frost. The forest +reservoirs dried up, displaying the red mud of their bottoms, and a bath +became a luxury--or a penance--the scanty water running thick and red. +Then the bush caught fire and burnt for three days, painting the sky a +rusty brown, and making the air hard to breathe. Of a morning his first +act on going into his surgery was to pick up the thermometer that stood +on the table. Sure as fate, though the clock had not long struck nine, +the mercury marked something between a hundred and a hundred and five +degrees. He let it fall with a nerveless gesture. Since his sunstroke he +not only hated, he feared the sun. But out into it he must, to drive +through dust-clouds so opaque that one could only draw rein till they +subsided, meanwhile holloaing off collisions. Under the close leather +hood he sat and stifled; or, removing his green goggles for the fiftieth +time, climbed down to enter yet another baked wooden house, where he +handled prostrate bodies rank with sweat, or prescribed for pallid or +fever-speckled children. Then home, to toy with the food set before him, +his mind already running on the discomforts of the afternoon.--Two bits +of ill-luck came his way this summer. Old Ocock fell, in dismounting +from a vehicle, and sustained a compound fracture of the femur. Owing to +his advanced age there was for a time fear of malunion of the parts, and +this kept Mahony on the rack. Secondly, a near neighbour, a common +little fellow who kept a jeweller's shop in Bridge Street, actually took +the plunge: sold off one fine day and sailed for home. And this seemed +the unkindest cut of all. + +But the accident that gave the death-blow to his scruples was another. +On the advice of a wealthy publican he was treating, whose judgment he +trusted, Mahony had invested--heavily for him, selling off other stock +to do it--in a company known as the Hodderburn Estate. This was a +government affair and ought to have been beyond reproach. One day, +however, it was found that the official reports of the work done by the +diamond drill-bore were cooked documents; and instantly every one +connected with the mine--directors, managers, engineers--lay under the +suspicion of fraudulent dealings. Shares had risen as high as ten pounds +odd; but when the drive reached the bore and, in place of the deep +gutter-ground the public had been led to expect, hard rock was found +overhead, there was a panic; shares dropped to twenty-five shillings and +did not rally. Mahony was a loser by six hundred pounds, and got, +besides, a moral shaking from which he could not recover. He sat and bit +his little-finger nail to the quick. Was he, he savagely asked himself, +going to linger on until the little he had managed to save was snatched +from him? + +He dashed off a letter to John, asking his brother-in-law to recommend a +reliable broker. And this done, he got up to look for Mary, determined +to come to grips with her at last. + + + + +Chapter XI + +How to begin, how reduce to a few plain words his subtle tangle of +thought and feeling, was the problem. + +He did not find his wife on her usual seat in the arbour. In searching +for her, upstairs and down, he came to a rapid decision. He would lay +chief stress on his poor state of health. + +"I feel I'm killing myself. I can't go on." + +"But Richard dear!" ejaculated Mary, and paused in her sewing, her +needle uplifted, a bead balanced on its tip. Richard had run her to +earth in the spare bedroom, to which at this time she often repaired. +For he objected to the piece of work she had on hand--that of covering +yards of black cashmere with minute jet beads--vowing that she would +ruin her eyesight over it. So, having set her heart on a fashionable +polonaise, she was careful to keep out of his way. + +"I'm not a young man any longer, wife. When one's past forty . . ." + +"Poor mother used to say forty-five was a man's prime of life." + +"Not for me. And not here in this God-forsaken hole!" + +"Oh dear me! I do wonder why you have such a down on Ballarat. I'm sure +there must be many worse places in the world to live in", and lowering +her needle, Mary brought the bead to its appointed spot. "Of course you +have a lot to do, I know, and being such a poor sleeper doesn't improve +matters." But she was considering her pattern sideways as she spoke, +thinking more of it than of what she said. Every one had to work hard +out here; compared with some she could name, Richard's job of driving +round in a springy buggy seemed ease itself. "Besides I told you at the +time you were wrong not to take a holiday in winter, when you had the +chance. You need a thorough change every year to set you up. You came +back from the last as fresh as a daisy." + +"The only change that will benefit me is one for good and all," said +Mahony with extreme gloom. He had thrown up the bed-curtain and +stretched himself on the bed, where he lay with his hands clasped under +his neck. + +Tutored by experience, Mary did not contradict him. + +"And it's the kind I've finally made up my mind to take." + +"Richard! How you do run on!" and Mary, still gently incredulous but a +thought wider awake, let her work sink to her lap. "What is the use of +talking like that?" + +"Believe it or not, my dear, as you choose. You'll see--that's all." + +At her further exclamations of doubt and amazement, Mahony's patience +slipped its leash. "Surely to goodness my health comes first . . . +before any confounded practice?" + +"Ssh! Baby's asleep.--And don't get cross, Richard. You can hardly +expect me not to be surprised when you spring a thing of this sort on +me. You've never even dropped a hint of it before." + +"Because I knew very well what it would be. You dead against it, of +course!" + +"Now I call that unjust. You've barely let me get a word in edgeways." + +"Oh, I know by heart everything you're going to say. It's nonsense . . . +folly . . . madness . . . and so on: all the phrases you women fish up +from your vocabulary when you want to stave off a change--hinder any +alteration of the STATUS QUO. But I'll tell you this, wife. You'll bury +me here, if I don't get away soon. I'm not much more than skin and bone +as it is. And I confess, if I've got to be buried I'd rather lie +elsewhere--have good English earth atop of me." + +Had Mary been a man, she might have retorted that this was a very +woman's way of shifting ground. She bit her lip and did not answer +immediately. Then: "You know I can't bear to hear you talk like that, +even in fun. Besides, you always say much more than you mean, dear." + +"Very well then, if you prefer it, wait and see! You'll be sorry some +day." + +"Do you mean to tell me, Richard, you're in earnest, when you talk of +selling off your practice and going to England?" + +"I can buy another there, can't I?" + +With these words he leapt to his feet, afire with animation. And while +Mary, now thoroughly uneasy, was folding up her work, he dilated upon +the benefits that would accrue to them from the change. Good-bye to +dust, and sun, and drought, to blistering hot winds and PAPIER MACHE +walls! They would make their new home in some substantial old stone +house that had weathered half a century or more, tangled over with +creepers, folded away in its own privacy as only an English house could +be. In the flower-garden roses would trail over arch and pergola; there +would be a lawn with shaped yews on it; while in the orchard old +apple-trees would flaunt their red abundance above grey, lichened walls. + +("As if there weren't apples enough here!" thought Mary.) + +He got a frog in his throat as he went on to paint in greater detail for +her, who had left it so young, the intimate charm of the home country-- +the rich, green, dimpled countryside. And not till now did he grasp how +sorely he had missed it. "Oh, believe me, to talk of 'going home' is no +mere figure of speech, Mary!" In fancy he trod winding lanes that ran +between giant hedges: hedges in tender bud, with dew on them; or snowed +over with white mayflowers; or behung with the fairy webs and gossamer +of early autumn, thick as twine beneath their load of moisture. He +followed white roads that were banked with primroses and ran headlong +down to the sea; he climbed the shoulder of a down on a spring morning, +when the air was alive with larks carolling. But chiefly it was the +greenness that called to him--the greenness of the greenest country in +the world. Viewed from this distance, the homeland looked to him like +one vast meadow. Oh, to tread its grass again!--not what one knew as +grass here, a poor annual, that lasted for a few brief weeks; but lush +meadow-grass, a foot high; or shaven emerald lawns on which ancient +trees spread their shade; or the rank growth in old orchards, starry +with wild flowers, on which fruit-blossoms fluttered down. He longed, +too, for the exquisite finishedness of the mother country, the soft +tints of cloud-veiled northern skies. His eyes ached, his brows had +grown wrinkled from gazing on iron roofs set against the hard blue +overhead; on dirty weatherboards innocent of paint; on higgledy-piggledy +backyards and ramshackle fences; on the straggling landscape with its +untidy trees--all the unrelieved ugliness, in short, of the colonial +scene. + +He stopped only for want of breath. Mary was silent. He waited. Still +she did not speak. + +He fell to earth with a bump, and was angry. "Come . . . out with it! I +suppose all this seems to you just the raving of a lunatic?" + +"Oh, Richard, no. But a little . . . well, a little unpractical. I never +heard before of any one throwing up a good income because he didn't like +the scenery. It's a step that needs the greatest consideration." + +"Good God! Do you think I haven't considered it?--and from every angle? +There isn't an argument for or against, that I haven't gone over a +thousand and one times." + +"And with never a word to me, Richard?" Mary was hurt; and showed it. +"It really is hardly fair. For this is my home as well as yours.--But +now listen. You're tired out, run down with the heat and that last +attack of dysentery. Take a good holiday--stay away for three months if +you like. Sail over to Hobart Town, or up to Sydney, you who'er so fond +of the water. And when you come back strong and well we'll talk about +all this again. I'm sure by then you'll see things with other eyes." + +"And who's to look after the practice, pray?" + +"Why, a LOCUM TENENS, of course. Or engage an assistant." + +"Aha! you'd agree to that now, would you? I remember how opposed you +were once to the idea." + +"Well, if I have to choose between it and you giving up altogether. . . +Now, for your own sake, Richard, don't go and do anything rash. If once +you sell off and leave Ballarat, you can never come back. And then, if +you regret it, where will you be? That's why I say don't hurry to +decide. Sleep over it. Or let us consult somebody--John perhaps--" + +"No you don't, madam, no you don't!" cried Richard with a grim dash of +humour. "You had me once . . . crippled me . . . handcuffed me--you and +your John between you! It shan't happen again." + +"I crippled you? I, Richard! Why, never in my life have I done anything +but what I thought was for your good. I've always put you first." And +Mary's eyes filled with tears. + +"Yes, where it's a question of one's material welfare you haven't your +equal--I admit that. But the other side of me needs coddling too--yes, +and sympathy. But it can whistle for such a thing as far as you're +concerned." + +Mary sighed. "I think you don't realise, dear, how difficult it +sometimes is to understand you . . . or to make out what you really do +want," she said slowly. + +Her tone struck at his heart. "Indeed and I do!" he cried contritely. +"I'm a born old grumbler, mavourneen, I know--contrariness in person! +But in this case . . . come, love, do try to grasp what I'm after; it +means so much to me." And he held out his hand to her, to beseech her. + +Unhesitatingly she laid hers in it. "I am trying, Richard, though you +mayn't believe it. I always do. And even if I sometimes can't manage it +--well, you know, dear, you generally get your own way in the end. Think +of the house. I'm still not clear why you altered it. I liked it much +better as it was. But I didn't make any fuss, did I?--though I should +have, if I'd thought we were only to occupy it for a single year after. +--Still, that was a trifle compared with what you want to do now. Though +I lived to a hundred I should never be able to approve of this. And you +don't know how hard it is to consent to a thing one disapproves of. You +couldn't do it yourself. Oh, what WAS the use, Richard, of toiling as +you have, if now, just when you can afford to charge higher fees and the +practice is beginning to bring in money--" + +Mahony let her hand drop, even giving it a slight push from him, and +turned to pace the floor anew. "Oh, money, money, money! I'm sick of the +very sound of the word. But you talk as if nothing else mattered. Can't +you for once, wife, see through the letter of the thing to the spirit +behind? I admit the practice HAS brought in a tidy income of late; but +as for the rest of the splendours, they exist, my dear, only in your +imagination. If you ask me, I say I lead a dog's life--why, even a +navvy works only for a fixed number of hours per diem! My days have +neither beginning nor end. Look at yesterday! Out in the blazing sun +from morning till night--I didn't get back from the second round till +nine. At ten a confinement that keeps me up till three. From three till +dawn I toss and turn, far too weary to sleep. By the time six o'clock +struck--you of course were slumbering sweetly--I was in hell with tic. +At seven I could stand it no longer and got up for the chloroform +bottle: an hour's rest at any price--else how face the crowd in the +waiting-room? And you call that splendour?--luxurious ease? If so, my +dear, words have not the same meaning any more for you and me." + +Mary did not point out that she had said nothing of the kind, or that he +had set up an extreme case as typical. She tightened her lips; her big +eyes were very solemn. + +"And it's not the work alone," Richard was declaring, "it's the place, +wife--the people. I'm done with 'em, Mary--utterly done! Upon my word, +if I thought I had to go on living among them even for another +twelvemonth . . ." + +"But PEOPLE are the same all the world over!" The protest broke from her +in spite of herself. + +"No, by God, they're not!" And here Richard launched out into a diatribe +against his fellow-colonists: "This sordid riff-raff! These hard, mean, +grasping money-grubbers!" that made Mary stand aghast. What could be the +matter with him? What was he thinking of, he who was ordinarily so +generous? Had he forgotten the many kindnesses shown him, the warm +gratitude of his patients, people's sympathy, at the time of his +illness? But he went on: "My demands are most modest. All I ask is to +live among human beings with whom I have half an idea in common--men +who sometimes raise their noses from the ground, instead of eternally +scheming how to line their pockets, reckoning human progress solely in +terms of l.s.d. No, I've sacrificed enough of my life to this country. +I mean to have the rest for myself. And there's another thing, my dear-- +another bad habit this precious place breeds in us. It begins by making +us indifferent to those who belong to us but are out of our sight, and +ends by cutting our closest ties. I don't mean by distance alone. I have +an old mother still living, Mary, whose chief prayer is that she may see +me once again before she dies. I was her last-born--the child her arms +kept the shape of. What am I to her now? . . . what does she know of me, +of the hard, tired, middle-aged man I have become? And you are in much +the same box, my dear; unless you've forgotten by now that you ever had +a mother." + +Mary was scandalised. "Forget one's mother? . . . Richard! I think +you're trying what dreadful things you can find to say . . . when I +write home every three months!" And provoked by this fresh piece of +unreason she opened fire in earnest, in defence of what she believed to +be their true welfare. Richard listened to her without interrupting; +even seemed to grant the truth of what she said. But none the less, even +as she pleaded with him, a numbing sense of futility crept over her. She +stuttered, halted, and finally fell silent. Her words were like so many +lassos thrown after his vagrant soul; and this was out of reach. It had +sniffed freedom--it WAS free; ran wild already on the boundless plains +of liberty. + +After he had gone from the room she sat with idle hands. She was all in +a daze. Richard was about to commit an out-and-out folly, and she was +powerless to hinder it. If only she had had some one she could have +talked things over with, taken advice of! But no--it went against the +grain in her to discuss her husband's actions with a third person. Purdy +had been the sole exception, and Purdy had become impossible. + +Looking back, she marvelled at her own dullness in not fore-seeing that +something like this might happen. What more natural than that the +multitude of little whims and fads Richard had indulged should culminate +in a big whim of this kind? But the acknowledgment caused her fresh +anxiety. She had watched him tire, like a fickle child, of first one +thing, then another; was it likely that he would now suddenly prove more +stable? She did not think so. For she attributed his present mood of +pettish aversion wholly to the fact of his being run down in health. It +was quite true: he had not been himself of late. But, here again, he was +so fanciful that you never knew how literally to take his ailments: half +the time she believed he just imagined their existence; and the long +holiday she had urged on him would have been enough to sweep the cobwebs +from his brain. Oh, if only he could have held on in patience! Four or +five years hence, at most, he might have considered retiring from +general practice. She almost wept as she remembered how they had once +planned to live for that day. Now it was all to end in smoke. + +Then her mind reverted to herself and to what the break would mean to +her; and her little world rocked to its foundations. For no clear call +went out to Mary from her native land. She docilely said "home" with the +rest, and kept her family ties intact; but she had never expected to go +back, except on a flying visit. She thought of England rather vaguely as +a country where it was always raining, and where--according to John-- +an assemblage of old fogies, known as the House of Commons, persistently +intermeddled in the affairs of the colony. For more than half her life-- +and the half that truly counted--Australia had been her home. + +Her home! In fancy she made a round of the house, viewing each cosy +room, lingering fondly over the contents of cupboards and presses, +recollecting how she had added this piece of furniture for convenience' +sake, that for ornament, till the whole was as perfect as she knew how +to make it. Now, everything she loved and valued--the piano, the +wax-candle chandelier, the gilt cornices, the dining-room horsehair-- +would fall under the auctioneer's hammer, go to deck out the houses of +other people. Richard said she could buy better and handsomer things in +England; but Mary allowed herself no illusions on this score. Where was +the money to come from? She had learnt by personal experience what slow +work building up a practice was. It would be years and years before they +could hope for another such home. And sore and sorry as SHE might feel +at having to relinquish her pretty things, in Richard's case it would +mean a good deal more than that. To him the loss of them would be a real +misfortune, so used had he grown to luxury and comfort, so strongly did +the need of it run in his blood. + +Worse still was the prospect of parting from relatives and friends. The +tears came at this, freely. John's children!--who would watch over them +when she was gone? How could she, from so far away, keep the promise she +had made to poor Jinny on her death-bed? She would have to give up the +baby of which she had grown so fond--give it back into Zara's +unmotherly hands. And never again of a Saturday would she fetch poor +little long-legged Trotty from school. She must say good-bye to one and +to all--to John, and Zara, and Jerry--and would know no more, at close +quarters, how they fared. When Jerry married there would be no one to +see to it that he chose the right girl. Then Ned and Polly--poor souls, +poor souls! What with the rapid increase of their family and Ned's +unsteadiness--he could not keep any job long because of it--they only +just contrived to make ends meet. How they would do it when she was not +there to lend a helping hand, she could not imagine. And outside her +brothers and sisters there was good Mrs. Devine. Mary had engaged to +guide her friend's tottery steps on the slippery path of Melbourne +society, did Mr. Devine enter the ministry. And poor little Agnes with +her terrible weakness. . . and Amelia and her sickly babes . . . and +Tilly, dear, good, warm-hearted Tilly! Never again would the pair of +them enjoy one of their jolly laughs; or cook for a picnic; or drive out +to a mushroom hunt. No, the children would grow up anyhow; her brothers +forget her in carving out their own lives; her friends find other +friends. + +For some time, however, she kept her own counsel. But when she had tried +by hook and by crook to bring Richard to reason, and failed; when she +saw that he was actually beginning, on the quiet, to make ready for +departure, and that the day was coming on which every one would have to +know: then she threw off her reserve. She was spending the afternoon +with Tilly. They sat on the verandah together, John's child, black-eyed, +fat, self-willed, playing, after the manner of two short years, at their +feet. At the news that was broken to her Tilly began by laughing +immoderately, believing that Mary was "taking a rise out of her." But +having studied her friend's face she let her work fall, slowly opened +mouth and eyes, and was at first unequal to uttering a word. + +Thereafter she bombarded Mary with questions. + +"Wants to leave Ballarat? To go home to England?" she echoed, with an +emphasis such as Tilly alone could lay. "Well! of all the . . . What +for? What on earth for? 'As somebody gone and left 'im a fortune? Or 'as +'e been appointed pillmonger-in-ordinary to the Queen 'erself? What is +it, Mary? What's up?" + +What indeed! This was the question Mary dreaded, and one that would leap +to every tongue: why was he going? She sat on the horns of a dilemma. It +was not in her to wound people's feelings by blurting out the truth-- +this would also put Richard in a bad light--and, did she give no reason +at all, many would think he had taken leave of his senses. Weakly, in a +very un-Maryish fashion, she mumbled that his health was not what it +should be, and he had got it into his head that for this the climate of +the colony was to blame. Nothing would do him but to return to England. + +"I never! No, never in my born days did I hear tell of such a thing!" +and Tilly, exploding, brought her closed fist heavily down on her knee. +"Mary! . . . for a mere maggot like that, to chuck up a practice such as +'e's got. Upon my word, my dear, it looks as if 'e was touched 'ere,"-- +and she significantly tapped her forehead. "Ha! Now I understand. You +know I've seen quite well, love, you've been looking a bit down in the +mouth of late. And so 'as pa noticed it, too. After you'd gone the other +day, 'e said to me: 'Looks reflexive-like does the little lady nowadays; +as if she'd got something on 'er mind.' And I to him: 'Pooh! Isn't it +enough that she's got to put up with the cranks and crotchets of one o' +YOUR sect?'--Oh Mary, my dear, there's many a true word said in jest. +Though little did I think what the crotchet would be." And slowly the +rims of Tilly's eyes and the tip of her nose reddened and swelled. + +"No, I can't picture it, Mary--what it'ull be like 'ere without you," +she said; and pulling out her handkerchief blew snort after snort, which +was Tilly's way nowadays of having a good cry. "There, there, Baby, +Auntie's only got the sniffles.--For just think of it, Mary: except +that first year or so after you were married, we've been together, you +and me, pretty much ever since you came to us that time at the 'otel--a +little black midget of a thing in short frocks. I can still remember 'ow +Jinn and I laughed at the idea of you teaching us; and 'ow poor ma said +to wait and make sure we weren't laughing on the wrong side of our +mouths. And ma was right as usual. For if ever a clever little kid trod +the earth, it was you." + +Mary pooh-poohed the cleverness. "I knew very little more than you +yourselves. No, it was you who were all so kind to me. I had been +feeling so lonely--as if nobody wanted me--and I shall never forget +how mother put her arms round me and cuddled me, and how safe and +comfortable I felt. It was always just like home there to me." + +"And why not, I'd like to know!--Look 'ere, Mary, I'm going to ask you +something, plump and plain. 'Ave you really been happy in your marriage, +my dear, or 'ave you not? You're such a loyal little soul, I know you'd +never show it if you weren't; and sometimes I've 'ad my doubts about +you, Mary. For you and the doctor are just as different as chalk and +cheese." + +"Of course I have--as happy as the day's long!" cried Mary, sensitive +as ever to a reflection on her husband. "You mustn't think anything like +that, Tilly. I couldn't imagine myself married to anyone but Richard." + +"Then that only makes it harder for you now, poor thing, pulled two ways +like, as you are," said Tilly, and trumpeted afresh. "All the same, +there isn't anything I'd stick at, Mary, to keep you here. Don't be +offended, my dear, but it doesn't matter half so much about the doctor +going as you. There's none cleverer than 'im, of course, in 'is own +line. But 'e's never fitted in properly here--I don't want to exactly +say 'e thinks 'imself too good for us; but there is something, Mary +love, and I'm not the only one who's felt it. I've known people go on +like anything about 'im behind 'is back: nothing would induce them to +have 'im and 'is haughty airs inside their doors again, etcetera." + +Mary flushed. "Yes, I know, people do sometimes judge Richard very +unkindly. For at heart he's the most modest of men. It's only his +manner. And he can't help that, can he?" + +"There are those who say a doctor ought to be able to, my dear.--But +never mind him. Oh, it's you I feel for, Mary, being dragged off like +this. Can't you DO anything, dear? Put your foot down?" + +Mary shook her head. "It's no use. Richard is so . . . well, so queer in +some ways, Tilly. Besides, you know, I don't think it would be right of +me to really pit my will against his." + +"Poor little you!--Oh! men are queer fish, Mary, aren't they? Not that +I can complain; I drew a prize in the lucky-bag when I took that old +Jawkins in there. But when I look round me, or think back, and see what +we women put up with! There was poor old ma; she 'ad to be man for both. +And Jinn, Mary, who didn't dare to call 'er soul 'er own. And milady +Agnes is travelling the selfsame road--why, she 'as to cock 'er eye at +Henry nowadays before she trusts 'erself to say whether it's beef or +mutton she's eating! And now 'ere's you, love, carted off with never a +with-your-leave or by-your-leave, just because the doctor's tired of it +and thinks 'e'd like a change. There's no question of whether you're +tired or not--oh, my, no!" + +"But he has to earn the money, Tilly. It isn't quite fair to put it that +way," protested her friend. + +"Well! I don't know, Mary, I'm sure," and Tilly's plump person rose and +sank in a prodigious sigh. "But if I was 'is wife 'e wouldn't get off so +easy--I know that! It makes me just boil." + +Mary answered with a rueful smile. She could never be angry with Richard +in cold blood, or for long together. + +As time went on, though, and the break-up of her home began--by the +auctioneer's man appearing to paw over and appraise the furniture--a +certain dull resentment did sometimes come uppermost. Under its sway she +had forcibly to remind herself what a good husband Richard had always +been; had to tell off his qualities one by one, instead of taking them +as hitherto for granted. No, her quarrel, she began to see, was not so +much with him as with the Powers above. Why should HER husband alone not +be as robust and hardy as all the other husbands in the place? None of +THEIR healths threatened to fail, nor did any of them find the +conditions of the life intolerable. That was another shabby trick Fate +had played Richard in not endowing him with worldly wisdom, and a +healthy itch to succeed. Instead of that, he had been blessed with ideas +and impulses that stood directly in his way.--And it was here that Mary +bore more than one of her private ambitions for him to its grave. A new +expression came into her eyes, too--an unsure, baffled look. Life was +not, after all, going to be the simple, straightforward affair she had +believed. Thus far, save for the one unhappy business with Purdy, wrongs +and complications had passed her by. Now she saw that no more than +anyone else could she hope to escape them. + +Out of this frame of mind she wrote a long, confidential letter to John: +John must not be left in ignorance of what hung over her; it was also a +relief to unbosom herself to one of her own family. And John was good +enough to travel up expressly to talk things over with her, and, as he +put it, to "call Richard to order." Like every one else he showed the +whites of his eyes at the latter's flimsy reasons for seeking a change. +But when, in spite of her warning, he bearded his brother-in-law with a +jocose and hearty: "Come, come, my dear Mahony! what's all this? You're +actually thinking of giving us the slip?" Richard took his interference +so badly, became so agitated over the head of the harmless question that +John's airy remonstrance died in his throat. + +"Mad as a March hare!" was his private verdict, as he shook down his +ruffled plumes. To Mary he said ponderously: "Well, upon my soul, my +dear girl, I don't know--I am frankly at a loss what to say. Measured +by every practical standard, the step he contemplates is little short of +suicidal. I fear he will live to regret it." + +And Mary, who had not expected anything from John's intervention, and +also knew the grounds for Richard's heat--Mary now resigned herself, +with the best grace she could muster, to the inevitable. + + + + +Chapter XII + +House and practice sold for a good round sum; the brass plates were +removed from gate and door, leaving dirty squares flanked by screw-holes; +carpets came up and curtains down; and, like rats from a doomed +ship, men and women servants fled to other situations. One fine day the +auctioneer's bell was rung through the main streets of the town; and +both on this and the next, when the red flag flew in front of the house, +a troop of intending purchasers, together with an even larger number of +the merely curious, streamed in at the gate and overran the premises. At +noon the auctioneer mounted his perch, gathered the crowd round him, and +soon had the sale in full swing, catching head-bobs, or wheedling and +insisting with, when persuasion could do no more, his monotonous +parrot-cry of: "Going. . . going . . . gone!" + +It would have been in bad taste for either husband or wife to be visible +while the auction was in progress; and, the night before, Mary and the +child had moved to Tilly's, where they would stay for the rest of the +time. But Mahony was still hard at work. The job of winding up and +getting in the money owed him was no light one. For the report had +somehow got abroad that he was retiring from practice because he had +made his fortune; and only too many people took this as a tacit +permission to leave their bills unpaid. + +He had locked himself and his account-books into a small back room, +where stood the few articles they had picked out to carry with them: +Mary's sewing-table, his first gift to her after marriage; their modest +stock of silver; his medical library. But he had been forced to lower +the blind, to hinder impertinent noses flattening themselves against the +window, and thus could scarcely see to put pen to paper; while the +auctioneer's grating voice was a constant source of distraction--not to +mention the rude comments made by the crowd on house and furniture, the +ceaseless trying of the handle of the locked door. + +When it came to the point, this tearing up of one's roots was a +murderous business--nothing for a man of his temperament. Mary was a +good deal better able to stand it than he. Violently as she had opposed +the move in the beginning, she was now, dear soul, putting a cheery face +on it. But then Mary belonged to that happy class of mortals who could +set up their Lares and Penates inside any four walls. Whereas he was a +very slave to associations. Did she regret parting with a pretty table +and a comfortable chair, it was soley because of the prettiness and +convenience: as long as she could replace them by other articles of the +same kind, she was content. But to him each familiar object was bound by +a thousand memories. And it was the loss of these which could never be +replaced that cut him to the quick. + +Meanwhile this was the kind of thing he had to listen to. + +"'Ere now, ladies and gents, we 'ave a very fine pier glass--a very +chaste and tasty pier glass indeed--a red addition to any lady's +drawin'room.--Mrs. Rupp? Do I understand you aright, Mrs. Rupp? Mrs. +Rupp offers twelve bob for this very 'andsome article. Twelve bob ... +going twelve.... Fifteen? Thank you, Mrs. Bromby! Going fifteen . . . +going--going--Eighteen? Right you are, my dear!" and so on. + +It had a history had that pier glass; its purchase dated from a time in +their lives when they had been forced to turn each shilling in the palm. +Mary had espied it one day in Plaistows' Stores, and had set her heart +on buying it. How she had schemed to scrape the money together!--saving +so much on a new gown, so much on bonnet and mantle. He remembered, as +if it were yesterday, the morning on which she had burst in, eyes and +cheeks aglow, to tell him that she had managed it at last, and how they +had gone off arm in arm to secure the prize. Yes, for all their poverty, +those had been happy days. Little extravagances such as this, or the +trifling gifts they had contrived to make each other had given far more +pleasure than the costlier presents of later years. + +"The next article I draw your attention to is a sofer," went on the +voice, sounding suddenly closer; and with a great trampling and +shuffling the crowd trooped after it to the adjoining room. "And a very +easy and comfortable piece o' furniture it is, too. A bit shabby and +worn 'ere and there, but not any the worse of that. You don't need to +worry if the kids play puff-puffs on it; and it fits the shape o' the +body all the better.--Any one like to try it? Jest the very thing for a +tired gent 'ome from biz, or 'andy to pop your lady on when she faints-- +as the best of ladies will! Any h'offers? Mr. de la Plastrier"--he said +"Deelay plastreer"--"a guinea? Thank you, mister. One guinea! Going a +guinea!--Now, COME on, ladies and gen'elmen! D'ye think I've got a +notion to make you a present of it? What's that? Two-and-twenty? Gawd! +Is this a tiddlin' match?" + +How proud he had been of that sofa! In his first surgery he had had +nowhere to lay an aching head. Well worn? Small wonder! He would like to +know how many hundreds of times he had flung himself down on it, utterly +played out. He had been used to lie there of an evening, too, when Mary +came in to chat about household affairs, or report on her day's doings. +And he remembered another time, when he had spent the last hours of a +distracted night on it . . . and how, between sleeping and waking, he +had strained his ears for footsteps that never came. + +The sofa was knocked down to his butcher for a couple of pounds, and the +crying--or decrying--of his bookcases began. He could stand no more of +it. Sweeping his papers into a bag, he guiltily unlocked the door and +stole out by way of kitchen and back gate. + +But once outside he did not know where to go or what to do. Leaving the +town behind him he made for the Lake, and roved aimlessly and +disconsolately about, choosing sheltered paths and remote roads where he +would be unlikely to run the gauntlet of acquaintances. For he shrank +from recognition on this particular day, when all his domestic privacies +were being bared to the public view. But altogether of late he had +fought shy of meeting people. Their hard, matter-of-fact faces showed +him only too plainly what they thought of him. At first he had been fool +enough to scan them eagerly, in the hope of finding one saving touch of +sympathy or comprehension. But he might as well have looked for grief in +the eyes of an undertaker's mute. And so he had shrunk back into +himself, wearing his stiffest air as a shield and leaving it to Mary to +parry colonial inquisitiveness. + +When he reckoned that he had allowed time enough for the disposal of the +last pots and pans, he rose and made his way--well, the word "home" was +by now become a mere figure of speech. He entered a scene of the wildest +confusion. The actual sale was over, but the work of stripping the house +only begun, and successful bidders were dragging off their spoils. His +glass-fronted bookcase had been got as far as the surgery-door. There it +had stuck fast; and an angry altercation was going on, how best to set +it free. A woman passed him bearing Mary's girandoles; another had the +dining-room clock under her arm; a third trailed a whatnot after her. To +the palings of the fence several carts and buggies had been hitched, and +the horses were eating down his neatly clipped hedge--it was all he +could do not to rush out and call their owners to account. The level +sunrays flooded the rooms, showing up hitherto unnoticed smudges and +scratches on the wall-papers; showing the prints of hundreds of dusty +feet on the carpetless floors. Voices echoed in hollow fashion through +the naked rooms; men shouted and spat as they tugged heavy articles +along the hall, or bumped them down the stairs. It was pandemonium. The +death of a loved human being could not, he thought, have been more +painful to witness. Thus a home went to pieces; thus was a page of one's +life turned.--He hastened away to rejoin Mary. + +There followed a week of Mrs. Tilly's somewhat stifling hospitality, +when one was forced three times a day to over-eat oneself for fear of +giving offence; followed formal presentations of silver and plate from +Masonic Lodge and District Hospital, as well as a couple of public +testimonials got up by his medical brethren. But at length all was over: +the last visit had been paid and received, the last evening party in +their honour sat through; and Mahony breathed again. He had felt stiff +and unnatural under this overdose of demonstrativeness. Now--as always +on sighting relief from a state of things that irked him--he underwent +a sudden change, turned hearty and spontaneous, thus innocently +succeeding in leaving a good impression behind him. He kept his temper, +too, in all the fuss and ado of departure: the running to and fro after +missing articles, the sitting on the lids of overflowing trunks, the +strapping of carpet-bags, affixing of labels. Their luggage hoisted into +a spring-cart, they themselves took their seats in the buggy and were +driven to the railway station; and to himself Mahony murmured an +all's-well--that-ends-well. On alighting, however, he found that his +greatcoat had been forgotten. He had to re-seat himself in the buggy and +gallop back to the house, arriving at the station only just in time to +leap into the train. + +"A close shave that!" he ejaculated as he sank on the cushions and wiped +his face. "And in more senses than one, my dear. In tearing round a +corner we nearly had a nasty spill. Had I pitched out and broken my +neck, this hole would have got my bones after all.--Not that I was +sorry to miss that cock-and-hen-show, Mary. It was really too much of a +good thing altogether." + +For a large and noisy crowd had gathered round the door of the carriage +to wish the travellers god-speed, among them people to whom Mahony could +not even put a name, whose very existence he had forgotten. And it had +fairly snowed last gifts and keepsakes. Drying her eyes, Mary now set to +collecting and arranging these. "Just fancy so many turning up, dear. +The railway people must have wondered what was the matter.--Oh, by the +way, did you notice--I don't think you did, you were in such a rush-- +who I was speaking to as you ran up? It was Jim, Old Jim, but so changed +I hardly knew him. As spruce as could be, in a black coat and a +belltopper. He's married again, he told me, and has one of the +best-paying hotels in Smythesdale. Yes, and he was at the sale, too--he +came over specially for it--to buy the piano." + +"He did, confound him!" cried Mahony hotly. + +"Oh, you can't look at it that way, Richard. As long as he has the money +to pay for it. Fancy, he told me had always admired the 'tune' of it so +much, when I played and sang. My dear little piano!" + +"You shall have another and a better one, I promise you, old girl-- +don't fret. Well, that slice of our life's over and done with," he +added, and laid his hand on hers. "But we'll hold together, won't we, +wife, whatever happens?" + +They had passed Black Hill and its multicoloured clay and gravel heaps, +and the train was puffing uphill. The last scattered huts and +weatherboards fell behind, the worked-out holes grew fewer, wooded rises +appeared. Gradually, too, the white roads round Mount Buninyong came +into view, and the trees became denser. And having climbed the shoulder, +they began to fly smoothly and rapidly down the other side. + +Mahony bent forward in his seat. "There goes the last of old Warrenheip. +Thank the Lord, I shall never set eyes on it again. Upon my word, I +believe I came to think that hill the most tiresome feature of the +place. Whatever street one turned into, up it bobbed at the foot. Like a +peep-show . . . or a bad dream . . . or a prison wall." + +In Melbourne they were the guests of John--Mahony had reluctantly +resigned himself to being beholden to Mary's relatives and Mary's +friends to the end of the chapter. At best, living in other people's +houses was for him more of a punishment than a pleasure; but for sheer +discomfort this stay capped the climax. Under Zara's incompetent rule +John's home had degenerated into a lawless and slovenly abode: the meals +were unpalatable, the servants pert and lazy, while the children ran +wild--you could hardly hear yourself speak for the racket. Whenever +possible, Mahony fled the house. He lunched in town, looked up his +handful of acquaintances, bought necessaries--and unnecessaries--for +the voyage. He also hired a boat and had himself rowed out to the ship, +where he clambered on board amid the mess of scouring and painting, and +made himself known to the chief mate. Or he sat on the pier and gazed at +the vessel lying straining at her anchor, while quick rain-squalls swept +up and blotted out the Bay. + +Of Mary he caught but passing glimpses; her family seemed determined to +make unblushing use of her as long as she was within reach. A couple of +days prior to their arrival, John and Zara had quarrelled violently; and +for the dozenth time Zara had packed her trunks and departed for one of +those miraculous situations, the doors of which always stood open to +her. + +John was for Mary going after her and forcing her to admit the error of +her ways. Mary held it wiser to let well alone. + +"DO be guided by me this time, John," she urged, when she had heard her +brother out: "You and Zara will never hit it off, however often you +try." + +But the belief was ingrained in John that the most suitable head for his +establishment was one of his own blood. He answered indignantly. "And +why not pray, may I ask? Who IS to hit it off, as you put it, if not two +of a family?" + +"Oh, John. . . "--Mary felt quite apologetic for her brother. "Clever +as Zara is, she's not at all fitted for a post of this kind. She's no +hand with the servants, and children don't seem to take to her--young +children, I mean." + +"Not fitted? Bah!" said John. "Every woman is fitted by nature to rear +children and manage a house." + +"They should be, I know," yielded Mary in conciliatory fashion. "But +with Zara it doesn't seem to be the case." + +"Then she ought to be ashamed of herself, my dear Mary--ashamed of +herself--and that's all about it!" + +Zara wept into a dainty handkerchief and was delivered of a rigmarole of +complaints against her brother, the servants, the children. According to +her, the last were naturally perverse, and John indulged them so +shockingly that she had been powerless to carry out reforms. Did she +punish them, he cancelled the punishments; if she left their naughtiness +unchecked, he accused her of indifference. Then her housekeeping had not +suited him: he reproached her with extravagance, with mismanagement, +even with lining her own purse. "While the truth is, John is mean as +dirt! I had literally to drag each penny out of him." + +"But what ever induced you to undertake it again, Zara?" + +"Yes, what indeed!" echoed Zara bitterly. "However, once bitten, Mary, +twice shy. NEVER again!" + +But remembering the bites Zara had already received, Mary was silent. + +Even Zara's amateurish hand thus finally withdrawn, it became Mary's +task to find some worthy and capable person to act as mistress. Taking +her obligations seriously, she devoted her last days in Australia to +conning and penning advertisements, and interviewing applicants. + +"Now no one too attractive, if you please, Mrs. Mahony!--if you don't +want him to fall a victim," teased Richard. "Remember our good John's +inflammability. He's a very Leyden jar again at present." + +"No, indeed I don't," said Mary with emphasis. "But the children are the +first consideration. Oh, dear! it does seem a shame that Tilly shouldn't +have them to look after. And it would relieve John of so much +responsibility. As it is, he's even asked me to make it plain to Tilly +that he wishes Trotty to spend her holidays at school." + +The forsaking of the poor little motherless flock cut Mary to the heart. +Trotty had dung to her, inconsolable. "Oh, Auntie, TAKE me with you! Oh, +what shall I do without you?" + +"It's not possible, darling. Your papa would never agree. But I tell you +what, Trotty: you must be a good girl and make haste and learn all you +can. For soon, I'm sure, he'll want you to come and be his little +housekeeper, and look after the other children." + +Sounded on this subject, however, John said dryly: "Emma's influence +would be undesirable for the little ones." His prejudice in favour of +his second wife's children was an eternal riddle to his sister. He +dandled even the youngest, whom he had not seen since its birth, with +visible pleasure. + +"It must be the black eyes," said Mary to herself; and shook her head at +men's irrationality. For Jinny's offspring had none of the grace and +beauty that marked the two elder children. + +And now the last night had come; and they were gathered, a family party, +round John's mahogany. The cloth had been removed; nuts and port were +passing. As it was a unique occasion the ladies had been excused from +withdrawing, and the gentlemen left their cigars unlighted. Mary's eyes +roved fondly from one face to another. There was Tilly, come over from +her hotel--("Nothing would induce me to spend a night under his roof, +Mary")--Tilly sat hugging one of the children, who had run in for the +almonds and raisins of dessert. "What a mother lost in her!" sighed Mary +once more. There was Zara, so far reconciled to her brother as to +consent to be present; but only speaking at him, not to him. And dear +Jerry, eager and alert, taking so intelligent a share in what was said. +Poor Ned alone was wanting, neither Richard nor John having offered to +pay his fare to town. Young Johnny's seat was vacant, too, for the boy +had vanished directly dinner was over. + +In the harmony of the evening there was just one jarring note for Mary; +and at moments she grew very thoughtful. For the first time Mrs. Kelly, +the motherly widow on whom her choice had fallen, sat opposite John at +the head of the table; and already Mary was the prey of a nagging doubt. +For this person had doffed the neat mourning-garb she had worn when +being engaged, and come forth in a cap trimmed with cherry coloured +ribbons. Not only this, she smiled in sugary fashion and far too +readily; while the extreme humility with which she deferred to John's +opinion, and hung on his lips, made another bad impression on Mary. Nor +was she alone in her observations. After a particularly glaring example +of the widow's complaisance, Tilly looked across and shut one eye, in an +unmistakable wink. + +Meanwhile the men's talk had gradually petered out: there came long +pauses in which they twiddled and twirled their wine-glasses, unable to +think of anything to say. At heart, both John and Mahony hailed with a +certain relief the coming break. "After all I dare say such a queer +faddy fellow IS out of his element here. He'll go down better over +there," was John's mental verdict. Mahony's, a characteristic: "Thank +God, I shall not have to put up much longer with his confounded +self-importance, or suffer under his matrimonial muddles!" + +When at a question from Mary John began animatedly to discuss the +tuition of the younger children, Mahony seized the chance to slip away. +He would not be missed. He never was--here or anywhere. + +On the verandah a dark form stirred and made a hasty movement. It was +the boy Johnny--now grown tall as Mahony himself--and, to judge from +the smell, what he tried to smuggle into his pocket was a briar. + +"Oh well, yes, I'm smoking," he said sullenly, after a feeble attempt at +evasion. "Go in and blab on me, if you feel you must, Uncle Richard." + +"Nonsense. But telling fibs about a thing does no good." + +"Oh yes, it does; it saves a hiding," retorted the boy. And added with a +youthful vehemence: "I'm hanged if I let the governor take a stick to me +nowadays! I'm turned sixteen; and if he dares to touch me--" + +"Come, come. You know, you've been something of a disappointment to your +father, Johnny--that's the root of the trouble." + +"Glad if I have! He hates me anyway. He never cared for my mother's +children," answered Johnny with a quaint dignity. "I think he couldn't +have cared for her either." + +"There you're wrong. He was devoted to her. Her death nearly broke his +heart.--She was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, my +boy." + +"Was she?" said Johnny civilly, but with meagre interest. This long dead +mother had bequeathed him not even a memory of herself--was as unreal +to him as a dream at second hand. From the chilly contemplation of her +he turned back impatiently to his own affairs, which were burning, +insistent. And scenting a vague sympathy in this stranger uncle who, +like himself, had drifted out from the intimacy of the candle-lit room, +he made a clean breast of his troubles. + +"I can't stand the life here, Uncle Richard, and I'm not going to--not +if father cuts me off with a shilling! I mean to see the world. THIS +isn't the world--this dead-and-alive old country! . . . though it's got +to seem like it to the governor, he's been here so long. And HE cleared +out from his before he was even as old as I am. Of course there isn't +another blessed old Australia for me to decamp to; he might be a bit +sweeter about it, if there was. But America's good enough for me, and +I'm off there--yes, even if I have to work my passage out!" + +Early next morning, fully equipped for their journey, the Mahonys stood +on the William's Town pier, the centre of the usual crowd of relatives +and friends. This had been further swelled by the advent of Mrs. Devine, +who came panting up followed by her husband, and by Agnes Ocock and +Amelia Grindle, who had contrived to reach Melbourne the previous +evening. Even John's children were tacked on, clad in their Sunday best. +Everybody talked at once and laughed or wept; while the children played +hide-and-seek round the ladies' crinolines. Strange eyes were bent on +their party, strange ears cocked in their direction; and yet once again +Mahony's dislike to a commotion in public choked off his gratitude +towards these good and kindly people. But his star was rising: tears and +farewells and vows of constancy had to be cut short, a jaunt planned by +the whole company to the ship itself abandoned; for a favourable wind +had sprung up and the captain was impatient to weigh anchor. And so the +very last kisses and handclasps exchanged, the travellers climbed down +into a boat already deep in the water with other cuddy-passengers and +their luggage, and were rowed out to where lay that good clipper-ship, +the RED JACKET. Sitting side by side husband and wife watched, with +feelings that had little in common, the receding quay, Mary fluttering +her damp handkerchief till the separate figures had merged in one dark +mass, and even Tilly, planted in front, her handkerchief tied flagwise +to the top of Jerry's cane, could no longer be distinguished from the +rest. + +Mahony's foot met the ribbed teak of the deck with the liveliest +satisfaction; his nostrils drank in the smell of tarred ropes and oiled +brass. Having escorted Mary below, seen to the stowing away of their +belongings and changed his town clothes for a set of comfortable baggy +garments, he returned to the deck, where he passed the greater part of +the day tirelessly pacing. They made good headway, and soon the ports +and towns at the water's edge were become mere whitey smudges. The hills +in the background lasted longer. But first the Macedon group faded from +sight; then the Dandenong Ranges, grown bluer and bluer, were also lost +in the sky. The vessel crept round the outside of the great Bay, to +clear shoals and sandbanks, and, by afternoon, with the sails close +rigged in the freshening wind, they were running parallel with the Cliff +--"THE Cliff!" thought Mahony with a curl of the lip. And indeed there +was no other; nothing but low scrub-grown sandhills which flattened out +till they were almost level with the sea. + +The passage through the Heads was at hand. Impulsively he went down to +fetch Mary. Threading his way through the saloon, in the middle of which +grew up one of the masts, he opened a door leading off it. + +"Come on deck, my dear, and take your last look at the old place. It's +not likely you'll ever see it again." + +But Mary was already encoffined in her narrow berth. + +"Don't ask me even to lift my head from the pillow, Richard. Besides, +I've seen it so often before." + +He lingered to make some arrangements for her comfort, fidgeted to know +where she had put his books; then mounted a locker and craned his neck +at the porthole. "Now for the Rip, wife! By God, Mary, I little thought +this time last year, that I should be crossing it to-day." + +But the cabin was too dark and small to hold him. Climbing the steep +companion-way he went on deck again, and resumed his flittings to and +fro. He was no more able to be still than was the good ship under him; +he felt himself one with her, and gloried in her growing unrest. She was +now come to the narrow channel between two converging headlands, where +the waters of Hobson's Bay met those of the open sea. They boiled and +churned, in an eternal commotion, over treacherous reefs which thrust +far out below the surface and were betrayed by straight, white lines of +foam. Once safely out, the vessel hove to to drop the pilot. Leaning +over the gunwale Mahony watched a boat come alongside, the man of +oilskins climb down the rope-ladder and row away. + +Here, in the open, a heavy swell was running, but he kept his foot on +the swaying boards long after the last of his fellow-passengers had +vanished--a tall, thin figure, with an eager, pointed face, and hair +just greying at the temples. Contrary to habit, he had a word for every +one who passed, from mate to cabin-boy, and he drank a glass of wine +with the Captain in his cabin. Their start had been auspicious, said the +latter; seldom had he had such a fair wind to come out with. + +Then the sun fell into the sea and it was night--a fine, starry night, +clear with the hard, cold radiance of the south. Mahony looked up at the +familiar constellations and thought of those others, long missed, that +he was soon to see again.--Over! This page of his history was turned +and done with; and he had every reason to feel thankful. For many and +many a man, though escaping with his life, had left youth and health and +hope on these difficult shores. He had got off scot-free. Still in his +prime, his faculties green, his zest for living unimpaired, he was +heading for the dear old mother country--for home. Alone and unaided he +could never have accomplished it. Strength to will the enterprise, +steadfastness in the face of obstacles had been lent him from above. And +as he stood gazing down into the black and fathomless deep, which sent +crafty, licking tongues up the vessel's side, he freely acknowledged his +debt, gave honour where honour was due.--FROM THEE COMETH VICTORY, FROM +THEE COMETH WISDOM, AND THINE IS THE GLORY AND I AM THY SERVANT. + +The last spark of a coast-light went out. Buffeted by the rising wind, +the good ship began to pitch and roll. Her canvas rattled, her joints +creaked and groaned as, lunging forward, she cut her way through the +troubled seas that break on the reef-bound coasts of this old, new +world. + + + +End Project Gutenberg etext of Australia Felix, by Henry Handel Richardson + diff --git a/old/strlf10.zip b/old/strlf10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e4b2716 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/strlf10.zip |