diff options
22 files changed, 17 insertions, 30106 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7dee29f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51011 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51011) diff --git a/old/51011-0.txt b/old/51011-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c4b3427..0000000 --- a/old/51011-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13034 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ghost Camp, by Rolf Boldrewood - -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/license - - -Title: The Ghost Camp - or the Avengers - -Author: Rolf Boldrewood - -Release Date: January 23, 2016 [EBook #51011] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GHOST CAMP *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Sonya Schermann and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - Transcriber’s Note - -When italics were used in the original book, the corresponding text has -been surrounded by _underscores_. Bold text has been surrounded by -=equal signs=. Some corrections have been made to the printed text. -These are listed in a second transcriber’s note at the end of the text. - - - - - THE GHOST CAMP - - OR - - THE AVENGERS - - - - - THE WORKS OF ROLF BOLDREWOOD. - - _Uniform Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d. each._ - - ROBBERY UNDER ARMS. - A COLONIAL REFORMER. - THE MINER’S RIGHT. - A MODERN BUCCANEER. - NEVERMORE. - THE SQUATTER’S DREAM. - A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON. - OLD MELBOURNE MEMORIES. - MY RUN HOME. - THE SEALSKIN CLOAK. - THE CROOKED STICK; OR, POLLIE’S PROBATION. - PLAIN LIVING. - A ROMANCE OF CANVAS TOWN. - WAR TO THE KNIFE. - BABES IN THE BUSH. - - ------- - - THE SPHINX OF EAGLEHAWK. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. - IN BAD COMPANY, and other Stories. Crown 8vo. 6s. - - London: MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD. - - - - - THE GHOST CAMP - OR - THE AVENGERS - - - - - BY - ROLF BOLDREWOOD - AUTHOR OF “ROBBERY UNDER ARMS,” “THE MINER’S RIGHT,” ETC. - - - - - London - MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED - NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - 1902 - - - - - RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED, - LONDON AND BUNGAY. - - - - - CONTENTS - - PAGE - - CHAPTER I 1 - - CHAPTER II 30 - - CHAPTER III 57 - - CHAPTER IV 93 - - CHAPTER V 122 - - CHAPTER VI 159 - - CHAPTER VII 198 - - CHAPTER VIII 236 - - CHAPTER IX 275 - - CHAPTER X 305 - - CHAPTER XI 343 - - CHAPTER XII 365 - - - - - THE GHOST CAMP - OR, THE AVENGERS - - - - - CHAPTER I - - -A WILD and desolate land; dreary, even savage, to the unaccustomed eye. -Forest-clothed hills towering above the faint, narrow track leading -eastward, along which a man had been leading a tired horse; he was now -resting against a granite boulder. A dark, mist-enshrouded day, during -which the continuous driving showers had soaked through an overcoat, now -become so heavy that he carried it across his arm. A fairly heavy -valise, above a pair of blankets, was strapped in front of his saddle. - -He was prepared for bush travelling—although his term of “colonial -experience,” judging from his ruddy cheek and general get-up, had been -limited. A rift in the over-hanging cloud-wrack, through which the low -sunrays broke with a sudden gleam, showed a darksome mountain range to -the south, with summit and sides, snow-clad and dazzling white. - -The wayfarer stood up and stared at the apparition: “a good omen,” -thought he, “perhaps a true landmark. The fellows at the mail-change -told me to steer in a general way for the highest snow peak, which they -called ‘the Bogong,’ or some such name. Though this track seems better -marked, these mountain roads, as they call them—goat paths would be the -better name—for there is not a wheel mark to be seen—one needs the foot -of a chamois and the eye of our friend up there.” Here he looked upward, -where one of the great birds of prey, half hawk, half eagle, as the -pioneers decided, floated with moveless wing above crag and hollow. Then -rising with an effort, and taking the bridle rein, he began to lead the -weary horse up the rocky ascent. “Poor old Gilpin!” he soliloquised, -“you are more knocked up than I am—and yet you have the look of a clever -cob—such as we should have fancied in England for a roadster, or a -covert hack. But roads _are_ roads there, while in this benighted land, -people either don’t know how to make them, or seem to do their -cross-country work without them. I wonder if I shall fall in with bed -and board to-night. The last was rough, but sufficing—a good fire too, -now I think of it, and precious cold it was. Well, come along, John! I -must bustle you a bit when we get to the top of this everlasting -hill—truly biblical in that respect. What a lonesome place it is, now -that the sun has gone under again! I suppose there’s no one within fifty -miles—Hulloa!” - -This exclamation was called forth by the appearance of a horseman at no -great distance—along the line of track. Man and horse were motionless, -though so near that he wondered he had not observed them before. The -rider’s face, which was towards him, bore, as far as he could judge, an -expression of keenest attention. - -“Wonder if he is a bushranger?” thought the traveller; “ought to have -brought one of my revolvers; but everybody told me that there were none -‘out’ now; that I was as safe as if I was in England—safer, in fact, -than ‘south the water’ in the little village. However, I shall soon -know.” - -Before he had time to decide seriously, the horseman came towards him. -He saw a slight, dark, wiry individual, something above the middle -height, sunburned, and almost blackened as to such portions of his neck -and face as could be perceived for an abundant beard and moustache. The -horse, blood-looking, and in hard condition, presented a striking -contrast to his own leg-weary, disconsolate animal. The traveller -thought him capable of fast and far performances. His sure and easy -gait, as he stepped freely along the rocky path, stamped him as -“mountain-bred,” or, if not “to the manner born,” having lived long -enough amid these tremendous glens and rocky fastnesses, to negotiate -their ladder-like declivities with ease and safety. - -“Good evening!” said the stranger, civilly enough. “Going to ‘Haunted -Creek?’—a bit off the road, ar’n’t you?” - -“I _was_ doubtful about the track, but I thought it might lead there. I -was told that it was only eight miles.” - -“It’s a good fourteen, and you won’t get there to-night. Not with that -horse, anyhow. But look here! I’m going to my place, a few miles off, -with these cattle—if you like to give me a hand, I can put you up for -the night, and show you the way in the morning.” - -“Thanks very much, really I feel much obliged to you. I was afraid I -should have had to camp out, and it looks like a bad night.” - -“All right,” said the bushman, for such he evidently was; “these -crawlin’ cattle are brutes to straggle, and I’m lost without my dog. -I’ll bring ’em up, and if you’ll keep the tail going, we’ll get along -easy enough.” - -“But where are they?” inquired the tourist, looking around, as if he -expected to see them rise out of the earth. - -“Close by,” answered the stranger, laconically, at the same time riding -down the slope of the mountain with loose rein, and careless seat, as if -the jumble of rocks, tree-roots, and rolling stones, was the most level -high road in the world. Looking after the new acquaintance he descried a -small lot of cattle perched on a rocky pinnacle, partly covered by a -patch of scrub. The grass around them was high and green—but, with one -exception, that of a cow munching a tussac in an undecided way, they did -not appear to care about the green herbage, or tall kangaroo grass which -grew around them. Had he known anything about the habits of cattle, he -would have seen by their appearance that these fat beasts (for such they -were) had come far and fast; were like his horse, thoroughly exhausted, -and as such, indifferent to the attractions of wayside pasture. - -However, with the aid of a hunting crop, which he flourished behind -them, with threatening action, the bushman soon managed to get them on -to the track, and with the aid of his newly-made comrade induced them to -move with a decent show of alacrity. That some were footsore, and two -painfully lame, was apparent to the new assistant, also that they were -well-bred animals, heavy weights, and in that state and condition which -is provincially alluded to as “rolling fat.” - -“Nice meat, ar’n’t they?” said the bushman; “come a good way too. -Beastly rough track; I was half a mind to bring them by Wagga—but this -is the shortest way—straight over the ranges. I’m butchering just now, -with gold-mining for a change, but that’s mostly winter work.” - -“Where do you buy your cattle?” asked the Englishman—not that he cared -as to that part of the occupation, but the gold-mining seemed to him a -romantic, independent way of earning a living. He was even now turning -over in his mind the idea of a few months camping among these Alpine -regions, with, of course, the off-chance of coming upon an untouched -gold mine. - -“Oh! a few here and there, in all sorts of places.” Here the stranger -shot a searching glance, tinged with suspicion, towards the questioner. -“I buy the chance of stray cattle now and then, and pick ’em up as I -come across ’em. We’d as well jog along here, it’s better going.” - -The track had become more marked. There were no wheel marks, the absence -of which had surprised the traveller, since the beginning of his day’s -march, but tracks of cattle and unshod horses were numerous; while the -ground being less rocky, indeed commencing to be marshy, no difficulty -was found in driving the cattle briskly along it. His horse too, having -“company,” had become less dilatory and despondent. - -“We’re not far off, now,” said his companion, “and it’s just as well. -We’ll have rain to-night—may be snow. So a roof and a fire won’t be too -bad.” - -To this statement the tourist cheerfully assented, his spirits rising -somewhat, when another mile being passed, they turned to the north at a -sharp angle to the road, and following a devious track, found themselves -at the slip-rails of a small but well-fenced paddock, into which the -cattle were turned, and permitted to stray at will. Fastening the slip -rails with scrupulous care, and following the line of fence for a -hundred yards, they came to a hut built of slabs, and neatly roofed with -sheets of the stringy bark tree (Eucalyptus obliqua) where his guide -unsaddled, and motioned to the guest to do likewise. As also to put the -saddle against the wall of the hut, with the stuffing outward. “That’ll -dry ’em a bit,” he said; “mine’s wet enough anyhow. Just bring your -horse after me.” - -Passing through a hand gate, he released his horse, first, however, -putting on a pair of hobbles; “the feed’s good,” he said, “but this -moke’s just out of the bush, and rather flash—he might jump the fence in -the night, so it’s best to make sure. Yours won’t care about anything -but filling his belly, not to-night anyhow, so he can go loose. Now -we’ll see about a fire, and boil the billy for tea. Come along in.” - -Entering the hut, which though small, was neat and clean; it was seen to -contain two rooms, the inner one apparently used as a bedroom, there -being two bed-places, on each of which was a rude mattress covered with -a blanket. A store of brushwood and dry billets had been placed in a -corner, from which a fire was soon blazing in the rude stone chimney, -while a camp kettle (provincially a “billy”) was on the way to boil -without loss of time. - -A good-sized piece of corned beef, part of a round, with half a “damper” -loaf being extracted from a cupboard or locker, was placed on the rude -slab table; after which pannikins and tin plates, with knives and forks, -provided from the same receptacle, were brought forth, completing the -preparations for a meal that the guest believed he was likely to relish. - -“Oh! I nearly forgot,” said the traveller, as his entertainer, dropping -a handful of tea into the “billy,” now at the boil, and stirring it with -a twig, put on the lid. “I brought a flask, it’s very fair whisky, and a -tot won’t hurt either of us, after a long day and a wet one.” Going to -his coat, he brought out a flask, and nearly filling the tin cup which -was closed over the upper part, offered it to his host. He, rather to -the surprise of the Englishman, hesitated and motioned as if to refuse, -but on second thoughts smiled in a mysterious way, and taking the tin -cup, nodded, and saying “Well, here’s fortune!” tossed it off. Blount -took one of the pannikins, and pouring out a moderate allowance, filled -it up with the clear spring water, and drank it by instalments. - -“I must say I feel better after that,” he observed, “and if a dram needs -an excuse, a long, cold ride, stiff legs, and a wetting ought to be -sufficient.” - -“They don’t look about for excuses up here,” said his new acquaintance, -“and some takes a deal more than is good for them. I don’t hold with -that, but a nip or two’s neither here nor there, particular after a long -day. Help yourself to the meat and damper, you see your supper.” - -The traveller needed no second invitation; he did not, like the clerk of -Copmanhurst, plunge his fingers into the venison pasty, there being -neither venison nor pasty, but after cutting off several slices of the -excellent round of beef which had apparently sustained previous -assaults, he made good time, with the aid of a well-baked “damper,” and -an occasional reference to a pannikin of hot tea, so that as their -appetites declined, more leisure was afforded for conversation. - -“And now,” he said, after filling up a second pannikin of tea, and -lighting his pipe, “I’m sure I’m very much obliged to you, as I hear the -rain coming down, and the wind rising. May I ask whose hospitality I’m -enjoying? I’m Valentine Blount of Langley in Herefordshire. Not long -out, as I dare say you have noticed. Just travelling about to have a -look at the country.” - -“My name’s John Carter,” said the bushman, with apparent frankness, as -he confronted Blount’s steady eye, “but I’m better known from here to -Omeo, as ‘Little River Jack’; there’s lots of people knows me by that -name, that don’t know me by any other.” - -“And what do you do when you get gold—take it to Melbourne to sell?” - -“There’s no call to do that. Melbourne’s a good way off, and it takes -time to get there. But there’s always gold buyers about townships, that -are on for a little business. They give a trifle under market price, but -they pay cash, and it suits us mountain chaps to deal that way. -Sometimes I’m a buyer myself, along with the cattle-dealing. Look here!” -As he spoke, he detached a leather pouch from his belt, looking like one -that stockriders wear for carrying pipe and tobacco, which he threw on -the table. The grog had inclined to confidences and relaxed his attitude -of caution. Blount lifted it, rather surprised at its weight. “This is -gold, isn’t it?” - -“Yes! a good sample too. Worth four pound an ounce. Like to look at it?” - -“Very much. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen gold in the raw state -before.” - -“Well, here it is—the real thing, and no mistake. Right if a chap could -only get enough of it.” Here he opened the mouth of the pouch, which -seemed three parts full, and pouring some of it on a tin plate, awaited -Blount’s remarks. - -As the precious metal, partly in dust, partly in larger fragments, -rattled on the plate, Blount looked on with deep interest, and then, on -being invited so to do, handled it with the air of a man to whom a new -and astonishing object is presented for the first time. - -“So,” he said musingly, “here is one of the great lures which have moved -the world since the dawn of history. Love, war, and ambition, have been -subservient to it. Priests and philosophers, kings and queens, the court -beauty and the Prime Minister, have vainly struggled against its -influence. But—” he broke off with a laugh, as he noted his companion’s -look of wonder, “here am I, another example of its fascination, -moralising in a mountain hut and mystifying my worthy entertainer.” - -“And now, my friend!” he inquired, relapsing into the manner of everyday -life, “what may be the market value of this heavy little parcel?” - -“Well—I put it at fifty ounces, or thereabouts,” said Mr. “Little River -Jack,” carefully pouring back the contents of the pouch, to the last -grain; “at, say four pound an ounce, it’s worth a couple of hundred -notes, though _we_ sha’n’t get that price for it. But at Melbourne mint, -it’s worth every shilling, maybe a trifle more.” Before closing the -pouch, he took out a small nugget of, perhaps, half an ounce in weight, -and saying, “You’re welcome to this. It’ll make a decent scarf pin,” -handed it to Mr. Blount. - -But that gentleman declined it, saying, “Thanks, very much, but I’d -rather not.” Then, seeing that the owner seemed hurt, even resentful, -qualified the refusal by saying, “But if you would do me a service, -which I should value far more, you might introduce me to some party of -miners, with whom I could work for a month or two, and learn, perhaps, -how to get a few ounces by my own exertions. I think I should like the -work. It must be very interesting.” - -“It’s that interesting,” said the bushman, all signs of annoyance -clearing from his countenance, “that once a man takes to it he never -quits it till he makes a fortune or dies so poor that the Government has -to bury him. I’ve known many a man that used a cheque book as big as a -school slate, and could draw for a hundred thousand or more, drop it all -in a few years, and be found dead in a worse ‘humpy’ than this, where -he’d been living alone for years.” - -“Strange to have been rich by his own handiwork, and not to be able to -keep something for his old age,” said Blount; “how is it to be accounted -for?” - -“By luck, d—d hard luck!” said John Carter, whom the subject seemed to -have excited. “Every miner’s a born gambler; if he don’t do it with -cards, he puts his earnings, his time, his life blood, as one might say, -on the chance of a claim turning out well. It’s good luck, and not hard -work, that gives him a ‘golden hole,’ where he can’t help digging up -gold like potatoes, and it’s luck, bad luck, that turns him out a beggar -from every ‘show’ for years, till he hasn’t got a shirt to his back. Why -do I stick to it, you’ll say? Because I’m a fool, always have been, -always will be, I expect. But I like the game, and I can’t leave it for -the life of me. However, that says nothing. I’m no worse than others. I -can just keep myself and my horse, while there’s an old mate of mine -living in London and Paris, and swelling it about with the best! You’d -like to have a look in, you say? Well, you stop at Bunjil for a week, -till I come back from Bago; it’s a good inn, clean and comfortable, and -the girl there, if I tell her, will look after you; see you have a fire -too, these cold nights. Are you on?” - -“Yes! most decidedly,” replied Blount, with great heartiness. “A -mountain hotel should be a new experience.” - -“Then it’s a bargain. I’m going down the river for a few days. When I -get back, I’ll pick you up at Bunjil, and we’ll go to a place such as -you never seen before, and might never have dropped on as long as you -lived, if you hadn’t met me, accidental like. And now we’d as well turn -in. I expect some chaps that’s bought the cattle, and they won’t be here -later than daylight.” Accepting another glass of whisky as nightcap, and -subsequently removing merely his boots and breeches, both of which he -placed before the fire, but at a safe distance, Mr. “Little River Jack” -“turned in” as he expressed it, and was shortly wrapped in the embrace -of the kind deity who favours the dwellers in the Waste, though often -rejecting the advances of the luxurious inhabitants of cities. Mr. -Blount delayed his retirement, as he smoked before the still glowing -“back log” and dwelt upon the adventures of the day. - -“How that fellow must enjoy his slumbers!” thought he. “In the saddle -before daylight, as he told me; up and down these rocky -fastnesses—fifteen hours of slow, monotonous work, more wearying than -any amount of fast going—and now, by his unlaboured breathing, sleeping -like a tired child; his narrow world—its few cares—its honest, if -sometimes exhausting labours, as completely shut out as if he was in -another planet. Enviable mortal! I should like to change places with -him.” - -After expressing this imprudent desire, as indeed are often those of -men, who, unacquainted with the conditions surrounding untried modes of -life, believe that they could attain happiness by merely exchanging -positions, Mr. Blount undressed before the fire, and bestowed himself -upon the unoccupied couch, where he speedily fell asleep, just as he had -imagined himself extracting large lumps of gold from a vein of virgin -quartz, in a romantic fern-shaded ravine, discovered by himself. - -From this pleasing state of matters, he was awakened by a sound as of -horse hoofs and the low growl of a dog. It was not quite dark. He sat up -and listened intently. There was no illusion. He went to the hut door -and looked out. Day was breaking, and through the misty dawnlight he was -enabled to distinguish his host in conversation with a man on horseback, -outside of the slip-rails. Presently the cattle, driven by another -horseman, with whom was a dog, apparently of more than ordinary -intelligence, came to the slip-rails. They made a rush as soon as they -were through, as is the manner of such, on strange ground—but the second -horseman promptly “wheeled” them towards the faint dawn line now -becoming more distinct, and disappeared through the forest arches. Mr. -Blount discerning that the day had begun, for practical purposes, -proceeded to dress. - -Walking over to the chimney, he found that the smouldering logs had been -put together, and a cheerful blaze was beginning to show itself. The -billy, newly filled, was close to it, and by the time he had washed the -upper part of his body in a tin bucket placed on a log end, outside the -door, his friend of the previous night appeared with both horses, which -he fastened to the paddock fence. - -“Those fellows woke you up, coming for the cattle? Thought you’d sleep -through it. I was going to rouse you when breakfast was ready.” - -“I slept soundly in all conscience, but still I was quite ready to turn -out. I suppose those were the butchers that you sold the cattle to?” - -“Two of their men—it’s all the same. They stopped close by last night so -as to get an early start. They’ve a good way to go, and’ll want all -their time, these short days. Your horse looks different this morning. -It’s wonderful what a good paddock and a night’s rest will do!” - -“Yes, indeed, he does look different,” as he saddled him up, and, -plucking some of the tall grass which grew abundantly around, treated -him to a partial rub down. “How far is it to Bunjil, as you call it?” - -“Well, not more than twenty miles, but the road’s middlin’ rough. Anyhow -we’ll get there latish, and you can take it easy till I come back. I -mightn’t be away more than three or four days.” - -Misty, even threatening, at the commencement, the day became fine, even -warm, after breakfast. Wind is rarely an accompaniment of such weather, -and as the sun rode higher in the cloudless sky, Blount thought he had -rarely known a finer day. “What bracing mountain air!” he said to -himself. “Recalls the Highlands; but I see no oat fields, and the -peasantry are absent. These hills should rear a splendid race of men—and -rosy-cheeked lasses in abundance. The roads I cannot recommend.” - -Mr. John Carter had admitted that the way was rough. His companion -thought he had understated the case. It was well nigh impassable. When -not climbing hills as steep as the side of a house, they were sliding -down bridle tracks like the “Ladder of Cattaro.” These Mr. Carter’s -horse hardly noticed; a down grade being negotiated with ease and -security, while he seemed, to Blount’s amazement, to step from rock to -rock like a chamois. That gentleman’s own horse had no such -accomplishments, but blundered perilously from time to time, so that his -owner was fain to lead him over the rougher passes. This rendered their -progress slower than it would otherwise have been, while he was fain to -look enviously at his companion, who, either smoking or discoursing on -local topics, rode with careless rein, trusting implicitly, as it -seemed, to his horse’s intelligence. - -“Here’s the Divide!” he said at length, pointing to a ridge which rose -almost at right angles from the accepted track. “We leave the road here, -and head straight for Bunjil mountain. There he stands with his cap on! -The snow’s fell early this season.” - -As he spoke he pointed towards a mountain peak of unusual height, -snow-capped, and even as to its spreading flanks, streaked with patches -and lines of the same colour. The white clouds which hung round the -lofty summit—six thousand feet from earth, were soft-hued and fleecy; -but their pallor was blurred and dingy compared with the silver coronet -which glorified the dark-hued Titan. - -“Road!” echoed Mr. Blount, “I don’t see any; what passes for it, I shall -be pleased to leave. If we are to go along this ‘Divide,’ as you call -it, I hope it will be pleasanter riding.” - -“Well, it is a queerish track for a bit, but after Razor Back’s passed, -it’s leveller like. We can raise a trot for a mile or two afore we make -Bunjil township. Razor Back’s a narrer cut with a big drop both sides, -as we shall have to go stiddy over.” - -“The Divide,” as John Carter called it, was an improvement upon the -track they quitted. It was less rocky, and passably level. There was a -gradual ascent however, which Mr. Blount did not notice until he -observed that the timber was becoming more sparse, while the view around -them was disclosing features of a grand, even awful character. On either -side the forest commenced to slope downwards, at an increasingly sharp -gradient. Instead of the ordinary precipice, above which the travellers -rode, on one or other side of the bridle track, having the hill on the -other, there appeared to be a precipice of unknown depth on _either -hand_. As the ascent became more marked, Blount perceived that the -winding path led towards a pinnacle from which the view was extensive, -and in a sense, dreadful, from its dizzy altitude—its abysmal -depths,—and, as he began to realise, its far from improbable danger. - -“This here’s what we call the leadin’ range; it follers the divide from -the head waters of the Tambo; that’s where we stopped last night. It’s -the only road between that side of the country and the river. If you -don’t strike this ‘cut,’ and there’s not more than a score or so of us -mountain chaps as knows it, it would take a man days to cross over, and -then he mightn’t do it.” - -“What would happen to him?” asked Blount, feeling a natural curiosity to -learn more of this weird region, differing so widely from any idea that -he had ever gathered from descriptions of Australia. - -“Well, he’d most likely get bushed, and have to turn back, though he -mightn’t find it too easy to do that, or make where he come from. In -winter time, if it come on to snow, he’d never get home at all. I’ve -known things happen like that. There was one poor cove last winter, as -we chaps were days out searchin’ for, and then found him stiff, and -dead—he’d got sleepy, and never woke up!” - -While this enlivening conversation was proceeding, the man from a far -country discovered that the pathway, level enough for ordinary purposes, -though he and his guide were no longer riding side by side, was rapidly -narrowing. What breadth it would be, when they ascended to the pinnacle -above them, he began to consider with a shade of apprehension. His -hackney, which Mr. Jack Carter had regarded with slightly-veiled -contempt as a “flat country horse, as had never seen a rise bigger than -a haystack,” evidently shared his uneasiness, inasmuch as he had -stopped, stared and trembled from time to time, at awkward places on the -road, before they came to the celebrated “leading range.” - -In another mile they reached the pinnacle, where Blount realised the -true nature and surroundings of this Alpine Pass. Such indeed it proved -to be. A narrow pathway, looking down on either side, upon fathomless -glens, with so abrupt a drop that it seemed as if the wind, now rising, -might blow them off their exposed perch. - -The trees which grew at the depths below, though in reality tall and -massive eucalypts, appeared scarce larger than berry bushes. - -The wedge-tailed eagles soared above and around. One pair indeed came -near and gazed on them with unblenching eye, as though speculating on -the duration of their sojourn. They seemed to be the natural denizens of -this dizzy and perilous height, from which the vision ranged, in -wondering amaze over a vast lone region, which stretched to the horizon; -appearing indeed to include no inconsiderable portion of the continent. - -Below, around, even to the far, misty sky-line, was a grey, green ocean, -the billows of which, through the branches of mighty forest trees, were -reduced by distance to a level and uniform contour. Tremendous glens, -under which ran clear cold mountain streams, tinkling and rippling ever, -mimic waterfalls and flashing rivulets, the long dry summer through -diversified the landscape. - -Silver streams crossed these plains and downs of solemn leafage, -distinguishable only when the sun flashed on their hurrying waters. -These were rivers—not inconsiderable either—while companies of -snow-crowned Alps stood ranged between, tier upon tier above them and -the outlined rim, where earth and sky met, vast, regal, awful, as Kings -of the Over-world! On guard since the birth of time, rank upon rank they -stood—silent, immovable, scornful—defying the puny trespassers on their -immemorial demesne. “What a land! what a vast expanse!” thought the -Englishman, “rugged, untamed, but not more so than ‘Caledonia stern and -wild,’ more fertile and productive, and as to extent—boundless. I see -before me,” he mused, “a country larger than Sweden, capable in time of -carrying a dense population; and what a breed of men it should give -birth to, athletic, hardy, brave! Horsemen too, in the words of -Australia’s forest poet, whom I read but of late. ‘For the horse was -never saddled that the Jebungs couldn’t ride.’ Good rifle shots! What -sons of the Empire should these Australian highlands rear, to do battle -for Old England in the wars of the giants yet to come!” - -This soliloquy, and its utterance in thought came simultaneously to a -halt of a decisive nature, by reason of the conduct of Mr. Blount’s -horse. This animal had been gradually acquiring a fixed distrust of the -highway—all too literally—on which he was required to travel. Looking -first on one side, then on the other, and apparently realising the -dreadful alternative of a slip or stumble, he became unnerved and -demoralised. Mr. Blount had ridden a mule over many a _mauvais pas_ in -Switzerland, when the sagacious animal, for reasons known to himself, -had insisted on walking on the outer edge of the roadway, over-hanging -the gulf, where a crumbling ledge might cause the fall into -immeasurable, glacial depths. In that situation his nerve had not -faltered. “Trust to old ‘Pilatus,’” said the guide; “do not interfere -with him, I beseech you; he is under the immediate protection of the -saints, and the holy St. Bernard.” He had in such a position been cool -and composed. The old mule’s wise, experienced air, his sure and -cautious mode of progression, had been calculated to reassure a nervous -novice. But here, the case was different. His cob was evidently _not_ -under the protection of the saints. St. Bernard was absent, or -indifferent. With the recklessness of fear, he was likely to back—to -lose his balance—to hurl himself and rider over the perpendicular drop, -where he would not have touched ground at a thousand feet. At this -moment Jack Carter looked round. “Keep him quiet, for God’s sake! till I -get to you—don’t stir!” As he spoke he slid from his horse, though so -small was the vacant space on the ledge, that as he leaned against the -shoulder of his well-trained mount, there seemed barely room for his -feet. Buckling a strap to the snaffle rein, which held it in front of -the saddle, and throwing the stirrup iron over, he passed to the head of -the other horse, whose rein he took in a firm grasp. “Steady,” he said -in a voice of command, which, strangely, the shaking creature seemed to -obey. “Now, Boss! you get off, and slip behind him—there’s just room.” -Blount did as directed, and with care and steadiness, effected a -movement to the rear, while Jack Carter fastened rein and stirrup as -before. - -Then giving the cob a sounding slap on the quarter, he uttered a -peculiar cry, and the leading horse stepped along the track at a fast -amble, followed by the cob at a slow trot, in which he seemed to have -recovered confidence. - -“That’s a quick way out of the difficulty,” said Blount, with an air of -relief. “I really didn’t know what was going to happen. But won’t they -bolt when they get to the other side of this natural bridge over the -bottomless pit?” - -“When they get to the end of this ‘race,’ as you may call it, there’s a -trap yard that we put up years back for wild horses—many a hundred’s -been there before my time. Some of us mountain chaps keep it mended up. -It comes in useful now and again.” - -“I should think it did,” assented his companion, with decision. “But how -will they get in? Will your clever horse take down the slip-rails, and -put them up again?” - -“Not quite that!” said the bushman smiling—“but near enough; we’ll find -’em both there, I’ll go bail!” - -“How far is it?” asked Blount, with a natural desire to get clear of -this picturesque, but too exciting part of the country, and to exchange -it for more commonplace scenery, with better foothold. - -“Only a couple of mile—so we might as well step out, as I’ve filled my -pipe. Won’t you have a draw for company?” - -“Not just yet, I’ll wait till we’re mounted again.” For though the -invariable, inexhaustible tobacco pipe is the steadfast friend of the -Australian under all and every condition of life, Blount did not feel in -the humour for it just after he had escaped, as he now began to believe, -from a sudden and violent death. - -“A well-trained horse! I should think he was,” he told himself; “and -yet, before I left England, I was always being warned against the -half-broken horses of Australia. What a hackney to be sure!—fast, easy, -sure-footed, intelligent—and what sort of breaking in has he had? Mostly -ridden by people whom no living horse can throw; but that is a -disadvantage—as he instinctively recognises the rider he _can_ throw. -Well! every country has its own way of doing things; and though we -Englishmen are unchangeably fixed in our own methods, we may have -something to learn yet from our kinsmen in this new land.” - -“I suppose there have been accidents on this peculiar track of yours?” -he said, after they had walked in silence for a hundred yards or more. - -“Accidents!” he replied, “I should jolly well think there have. You see, -horses are like men and women, though people don’t hardly believe it. -Some’s born one way, and some another; teaching don’t make much -difference to ’em, nor beltin’ either. Some of ’em, like some men, are -born cowards, and when they get into a narrer track with a big drop both -sides of ’em, they’re that queer in the head—though it’s the _heart_ -that’s wrong with ’em—that they feel like pitching theirselves over, -just to get shut of the tremblin’ on the brink feelin’. Your horse was -in a blue funk; he’d have slipped or backed over in another minute or -two. That was the matter with _him_. When he seen old Keewah skip along -by himself, it put confidence like, into him.” - -“You’ve known of accidents, then?” - -“My word! I mind when poor Paddy Farrell went down. He and his horse -both. He was leadin’ a packer, as it might be one of us now. Well, his -moke was a nervous sort of brute, and just as he got to the Needle Rock, -it’s a bit farther on before the road widens out, but it’s terrible -narrer there, and poor Paddy was walking ahead leadin’ the brute with a -green hide halter, when a hawk flies out from behind a rock and -frightened the packer. He draws back with a jerk, and his hind leg goes -over the edge. Paddy had the end of the halter round his wrist, and it -got jammed somehow, and down goes the lot, horse and pack, and him atop -of ’em. Three or four of us were out all day looking for him at the foot -of the range. We knew where we’d likely find him, and sure enough there -they were, he and his horse, stone dead and smashed to pieces. We took -him back to Bunjil, and buried him decent in the little graveyard. We -managed to fish up a prayer-book, and got ‘Gentleman Jack’ to read the -service over him. My word! he _could_ read no end. They said he was -college taught. He could drink too, more’s the pity.” - -“Does _every one_ drink that lives in these parts?” - -“Well, a good few. Us young ones not so bad, but if a man stays here, -after a few years he always drinks, partickler if he’s seen better -days.” - -“Now why is that? It’s a free healthy life, with riding, shooting, and a -chance of a golden hole, as you call it. There are worse places to live -in.” - -“Nobody knows why, but they all do; they’ll work hard and keep sober for -months. Then they get tired of having no one to talk to—nobody like -theirselves, I mean. They go away, and come back stone-broke, or knock -it all down in Bunjil, if they’ve made a few pounds.” - -“That sounds bad after working hard and risking their lives on these -Devil’s Bridges. How old was this Patrick Farrell?” - -“Twenty-four, his name wasn’t Patrick. It was Aloysius William, named -after a saint, I’m told. The boys called him ‘Paddy’ for short. At home, -I believe they called him ‘Ally.’ But Paddy he always was in these -parts. It don’t matter much now. See that tall rock sticking up by the -side of the road at the turn? Well, that’s where he fell; they call it -‘Paddy’s Downfall,’ among the country people to this day. We’ve only a -mile to go from there.” - -When Mr. Blount and his companion reached the Needle Rock, a sharp-edged -monolith, the edge of which unnecessarily infringed on the perilously -scanty foothold, he did not wonder at the downfall of poor Aloysius -William or any other wayfarer encumbered with a horse. He recalled the -“vision of sudden death” which had so nearly been realised in his own -case, and shuddered as he looked over the sheer drop on to a tangled -mass of “rocks and trees confusedly hurled.” - -“We’ve got Bunjil Inn to make yet,” said the bushman, stepping forward -briskly; “we mustn’t forget that, if we leave my old moke too long in -the yard, he’ll be opening the gate or some other dodge.” - -In a hundred yards from the Needle Rock the track became wider, much to -Mr. Blount’s relief, for he was beginning to feel an uncanny fascination -for the awful abyss, and to doubt whether if a storm came on, he should -be able to stand erect, or be reduced to the ignoble alternative of -lying on his face. - -“They’ve passed along here all right,” said the guide, casting a casual -look at the path; “trust old Keewah for that, he’s leadin’ and your moke -following close up.” - -Mr. Blount did not see any clear indication, and would have been quite -unable to declare which animal was foremost. But he accepted in all -confidence Little-River-Jack’s assurance. The track, without gaining -much breadth or similarity to any civilised high road, was yet superior -in all respects to the chamois path they had left behind, and when his -companion exclaimed, “There’s the yard, and our nags in it, as safe as -houses,” he was relieved and grateful. The loss of a horse with a new -saddle and bridle, besides his whole stock of travelling apparel, spare -shoes, and other indispensable matters, would have been serious, not to -say irreparable. - -However there were the two horses with their accoutrements complete, in -the trap yard aforesaid. The yard was fully eight feet high, and though -the saplings of which it was composed were rudely put together, they -were solid and unyielding. The heavy gate of the same material showed a -rude carpentry in the head and tail pieces, the former of which was “let -into the cap” or horizontal spar placed across the gate posts, and also -morticed into a round upright below, sunk into the ground and projecting -securely above it. - -“They must have come in and shut the gate after them,” remarked Blount; -“how in the world did they manage that?” - -“Well, you see, this gate’s made pretty well on the balance to swing -back to the post, where there’s a sort of groove for it. It’s always -left half, or a quarter open. A prop’s put loose agen it, which any -stock coming in from that side’s middlin’ sure to rub, and the gate -swings to. See? It may graze ’em, as they’re going in, but they’re -likely to jump forward, into the yard. The gate swings back to the post, -and they’re nabbed. They can’t very well open it _towards_ themselves, -they haven’t savey for that. So they have to wait till some one comes.” - -This explanation was given as they were riding along a decently plain -road to Bunjil township, the first appearance of which one traveller -descried with much contentment. - -The “Divide,” before this agreeable change, had begun to alter its -austere character. The ridge had spread out, the forest trees were -stately and umbrageous, the track was fairly negotiable by horse and -man. A fertile valley through which dashed an impetuous stream revealed -itself. On the further bank stood dwellings, “real cottages,” as Mr. -Blount remarked, “not huts.” These were in all cases surrounded by -gardens, in some instances by orchards, of which the size and girth of -the fruit trees bore witness to the richness of the soil as well as of -the age of the township. - -The short winter day had been nearly consumed by reason of their erratic -progress; so that the evening shadows had commenced to darken the -valley, while the clear, crisp atmosphere betrayed to the experienced -senses of Mr. Carter, every indication of what he described as “a real -crackin’ frost.” - -“We’re in luck’s way,” he said, in continuation, “not to be struck for a -camp out to-night. It’s cold enough in an old man frost hereabouts, to -freeze the leg off an iron pot. But this is the right shop as we’re -going to, for a good bed, a broiled steak for tea, and if you make -friends with Sheila (she’s the girl that waits at table) you won’t die -of cold, whatever else happens to you. Above all, the house is clean, -and that’s more than you can say for smarter lookin’ shops. We’d as well -have a spurt to finish up with.” Drawing his rein, and touching his hack -with careless heel, the bushman went off at a smart canter along the -main street, apparently the only one in the little town, Mr. Blount’s -cob following suit with comparative eagerness, until they pulled up at a -roomy building with a broad verandah, before which stood a sign-board, -setting forth its title to consideration, as the “Prospector’s Arms” by -William Middleton. - -Several persons stood or lounged about the verandah, who looked at them -keenly as they rode up. A broad-shouldered man with a frank, open -countenance, came out of a door, somewhat apart from the group. He was -plainly, by appearance and bearing, the landlord. - -“So you’re back again, Jack,” said he, addressing the bushman with an -air of familiar acquaintance; “didn’t know what had come o’yer. What lay -are ye on now?” - -“Same’s usual, moochin’ round these infernal hills and gullies ov yours. -There’s a bit of a rush Black Rock way. I’m goin’ to have a look in -to-morrow. This gentleman’s just from England, seein’ the country in a -gineral way; he’ll stay here till I get back, and then we’ll be going -down river.” - -“All right, Jack!” replied the host. “_You_ can show him the country, if -any one can—the missus’ll see he’s took care of,” and as he spoke he -searched the speaker with a swift glance as of one comprehending all -that had been said, and more that was left unspoken. “Here, take these -horses round, George, and make ’em right for the night.” - -An elderly individual in shirt sleeves and moleskins of faded hue here -came forward, and took the stranger’s horse, unbuckling valise and pack, -which the landlord carried respectfully into an inner chamber, out of -which a door led into a comfortable appearing bedroom; where, from the -look of the accessories, he augured favourably for the night’s rest. Mr. -Carter had departed with the old groom, preferring, as he said, to see -his horse fed and watered before he tackled his own refreshment; “grub” -was the word he used, which appeared to be fully understanded of the -people, if but vaguely explanatory to Mr. Blount. - -That gentleman, pensively examining his wardrobe, reflected meanwhile by -how narrow a chance the articles spread out before him had been saved -from wreck, so to speak, and total loss, when a knock came to the door, -and a feminine voice requested to know whether he would like supper at -six o’clock or later. Taking counsel of his inward monitor, he adopted -the hour named. - -The voice murmured, “Your hot water, sir,” and ceased speaking. - -He opened the door, and was just in time to see a female form disappear -from the room. - -“We are beginning to get civilised,” he thought, as he possessed himself -of the hot water jug, and refreshed accordingly. After which he -discarded his riding gear in favour of shoes and suitable continuations. -While awaiting the hour of reflection, he took out of his valise a -pocket edition of Browning, and was about to glance at it when the clock -struck six. - -Entering the parlour, for such it evidently was, he was agreeably -surprised with the appearance of affairs. A clean cloth covered the -solid cedar table, on which was a hot dish—flanked by another which held -potatoes. A fire of glowing logs was cheerful to behold, nor was the -“neat-handed Phyllis” wanting to complete the tableau. A very -good-looking young woman, with a complexion of English, rather than -Australian colouring, removed the dish covers, and stood at attention. - -Here the wayfarer was destined to receive fresh information relative to -the social observances of Australian society. “You have only laid covers -for one,” said he to the maid. “My friend, Mr. Carter, is not going to -do without his dinner surely?” - -“Oh! Jack!” said the damsel, indifferently; “he won’t come in here, he’s -at the second table with the coachman and the drovers. This is the -gentlemen’s room.” - -“How very curious!” he exclaimed. “I thought every one was alike in this -part of the world; all free and equal, that sort of thing. I shouldn’t -the least mind spending the evening with er—John Carter—or any other -respectable miner.” - -The girl looked him over before she spoke. “Well, Mr. Blount (Jack said -that was your name), _you_ mightn’t, though you’re just from England, -but other people might. When the police magistrate, the Goldfields -Warden, and the District Surveyor come round, they always stay here, and -the down river squatters. They wouldn’t like it, you may be sure, nor -you either, perhaps, if the room was pretty full.” - -He smiled, as he answered, “So this is an aristocratic country, I -perceive, in spite of the newspaper froth about a democratic government. -Well, I must take time, and learn the country’s ways. I shall pick them -up by degrees, I suppose.” - -“No fear!” said the damsel. “It’ll all come in time, not but there’s -places at the back where all sorts sit down together and smoke and drink -no end. But not at Bunjil. Would you like some apple-pie to follow, -there’s plenty of cream?” - -Mr. Blount would. “Apple-pie reminds one of Devonshire, and our -boyhood—especially the cream,” thought he. “What fun I should have -thought this adventure a few years ago. Not that it’s altogether without -interest now. It’s a novelty, at any rate.” - - - - - CHAPTER II - - -MR. BLOUNT, as he sat before the fire, enjoying his final pipe before -retiring for the night, was free to confess that he had rarely spent a -more satisfactory evening—even in the far-famed, old-fashioned, -road-side inns of old England. The night was cold—Carter’s forecast had -been accurate. It was a hard frost, such as his short stay in a coast -city had not acquainted him with. The wide bush fire-place, with a -couple of back logs, threw out a luxurious warmth, before which, in a -comfortable arm-chair, he had been reading the weekly paper with -interest. - -The well-cooked, juicy steak, the crisp potatoes, the apple-pie with -bounteous cream, constituted a meal which a keen-edged appetite rendered -sufficient for all present needs. The difficult ride and too hazardous -adventure constituted a fair day’s work—being indeed sufficiently -fatiguing to justify rest without bordering on exhaustion. It was a case -of _jam satis_. - -He looked forward to an enjoyable night’s sleep, was even aware of a -growing sense of relief that he was not required to take the road next -morning. The cob would be better for a few days’ rest, before doing more -mountain work. He would like also to ramble about this neighbourhood, -and see what the farms and sluicing claims were like. And a better base -of operations than the Bunjil Hotel, no man need desire. - -He had gone to the stable with Carter, as became a prudent horse-owner, -where he had seen the cob comfortably bedded down for the night with a -plenteous supply of sweet-smelling oaten hay before him, and an -unstinted feed of maize in the manger. - -“They’re all right for the night,” said Carter. “Your nag will be the -better for a bit of a turn round to-morrow afternoon, just to keep his -legs from swellin’. I’ll be off about sunrise, and back again the fourth -day, or early the next. They’ll look after you here, till then.” - -Mr. Blount was of opinion that he could look after himself from what he -had seen of the establishment, and said so, but “was nevertheless much -obliged to him for getting him such good quarters.” So to bed, as Mr. -Pepys hath it, but before doing so, he rang the bell, and questioned -Sheila—for that was her name, as he had ascertained by direct inquiry—as -to the bath arrangements. - -“I shall want a cold bath at half-past seven—a shower bath, for choice. -Is there one?” - -“Oh, yes—but very few go in for it this time of year. The P.M. does, -when he comes round, and the Goldfields Warden. It’s one of those baths -that you fill and draw up over your head. Then you pull a string.” - -“That will do very well.” - -“All right—I’ll tell George; but won’t it be very cold? It’s a hard -frost to-night.” - -“No—the colder it is, the warmer you feel after it.” - -“Well, good-night, sir! Breakfast at half-past eight o’clock. Is that -right? Would you like sausages, boiled eggs and toast?” - -“Yes! nothing could be better. My appetite seems improving already.” - -The Kookaburra chorus, and the flute accompaniment of the magpies in the -neighbouring tree tops, awakened Mr. Blount, who had not so much as -turned round in bed since about five minutes after he had deposited -himself between the clean lavender-scented sheets. Looking out, he -faintly discerned the dawn light, and also that the face of the country -was as white as if it had been snowing. He heard voices in the verandah, -and saw Little-River-Jack’s horse led out, looking as fresh as paint. -That gentleman, lighting his pipe carefully, mounted and started off at -a fast amble up the road which skirted the range, and led towards a gap -in the hills. Mr. Blount thought it would be as well to wait until -Sheila had the fire well under way, by which he intended to toast -himself after the arctic discipline of the shower bath, with the -thermometer at 28 degrees Fahrenheit. - -The bi-weekly mail had providentially arrived at breakfast time, -bringing in its bags the local district newspaper, and a metropolitan -weekly which skimmed the cream from the cables and telegrams of the day. -This was sufficiently interesting to hold him to the arm-chair, in -slippered ease, for the greater part of an hour, while he lingered over -his second cup of tea. - -His boots, renovated from travel stains and mud, standing ready, he -determined on a stroll, and took counsel with Sheila, as to a favourable -locality. - -The damsel was respectful, but conversed with him on terms of perfect -conversational equality. She had also been fairly educated, and was free -from vulgarity of tone or accent. To him, straight from the old country, -a distinctly unfamiliar type worth studying. - -“Where would you advise me to go for a walk?” he said. “It’s good -walking weather, and I can’t sit in the house this fine morning, though -you have made such a lovely fire.” - -“I should go up the creek, and have a look at the sluicing claim. People -say it’s worth seeing. You can’t miss it if you follow up stream, and -you’ll hear the ‘water gun’ a mile before you come to it.” - -“‘Water gun?’ What ever is that?” - -“Oh! it’s the name of a big hose with a four-inch nozzle at the end. -They lead the water for the race into it, and then turn it against the -creek bank; that undermines tons of the stuff they want to sluice—you’ll -hear it coming down like a house falling!” - -“And what becomes of it then?” - -“Oh! it goes into the tail-race, and after that it’s led into the -riffles and troughs—the water keeps driving along, and they’ve some way -of washing the clay and gravel out, and leaving the gold behind.” - -“And does it pay well?” - -“They say so. It only costs a penny a ton to wash, or something like -that. It’s the cheapest way the stuff can be treated. Our boys saw it -used in California, and brought it over here.” - -So, after taking a last fond look at the cob, and wishing he could -exchange him for Keewah, but doubting if any amount of boot would induce -Carter to part with his favourite, he set out along the bank of the -river and faced the uplands. - -His boots were thick, his heart was light—the sun illumined the -frost-white trunks, and diamond-sprayed branches of the pines and -eucalypts—the air was keen and bracing. “What a glorious thing it is to -be alive on a day like this,” he told himself. “How glad I am that I -decided to leave Melbourne!” As he stepped along with all the elasticity -of youth’s high health and boundless optimism, he marked the features of -the land. There were wheel-tracks on this road, which he was pleased to -note. Though the soil was rich, and also damp at the base of the hills -and on the flats, it was sound, so that with reasonable care he was -enabled to keep his feet dry. He saw pools from which the wild duck flew -on his approach. A blue crane, the heron of Australia (_Ardea_) rose -from the reeds; while from time to time the wallaroo (the kangaroo of -the mountain-side) put in appearance to his great delight. - -The sun came out, glorifying the wide and varied landscape and the -cloudless azure against which the snow-covered mountain summits -glittered like silver coronets. Birds of unknown note and plumage called -and chirped. All Nature, recovering from the cold and darkness of the -night, made haste to greet the brilliant apparition of the sun god. - -Keeping within sight of the creek—the course of which he was pledged to -follow—he became aware of a dull monotonous sound, which he somehow -connected with machinery. It was varied by occasional reports like -muffled blasts, as of the fall of heavy bodies. “That is the sluicing -claim,” he told himself, “and I shall see the wonderful ‘water gun,’ -which Sheila told me of. Quite an adventure!” The claim was farther off -than he at first judged, but after climbing with stout heart a “stey -brae,” he looked down on the sluicing appliances, and marvelled at the -inventive ingenuity which the gold industry had developed. Before him -was a ravine down which a torrent of water was rushing with great force -and rapidity, bearing along in its course clay, gravel, quartz, and even -boulders of respectable size. - -He was civilly received by the claim-holders; the manager—an -ex-Californian miner—remarking, “Yes, sir, I’m a ‘forty-niner,’—worked -at Suttor’s Mill first year gold was struck there. This is a pretty big -thing, though it ain’t a circumstance to some I’ve seen in Arizona and -Colorado. This water’s led five hundred feet from these workings. See it -play on the face of the hill-side yonder—reckon we’ve cut it away two -hundred feet from grass.” - -Mr. Blount looked with amazement at the thin, vicious, thread of water, -which, directed against the lower and middle strata of the mass of -ferruginous slate, had laid bare the alluvium through which ran an -ancient river, silted up and overlaid for centuries. The course of this -long dead and buried stream could be traced by the water-worn boulders -and the smoothness of the rocks which had formed its bed. Where he -stood, there had been a fall of forty feet as shown by the formation of -the rocky channel. - -The manager civilly directed the “gunner” to lower the weapon, and aim -it at a spot nearer to where Blount was standing. He much marvelled to -see the stones torn from the “face” and sent flying in the air, creating -a fair-sized geyser where the water smote the cliff. In this fashion of -undermining hundreds of tons are brought down from time to time, to be -driven by the roaring torrent into the “tail-race,” whence they pass -into the “sluice-box,” and so on to the creek, leaving the gold behind -in the riffle bars. - -“I suppose it’s not an expensive way of treating the ore in the rough?” -queried Blount. - -“I reckon not. Cheapest way on airth. The labour we pay at present only -comes to one man to a thousand yards. This company has been paying -dividends for fifteen years!” - -Mr. Blount thanked the obliging American, who, like all respectable -miners, was well-mannered to strangers, the sole exception being in the -case of a party that have “struck gold” in a secluded spot, and -naturally do not desire all the world to know about it. But even they -are less rude than evasive. - -He looked at his watch and decided that he had not more than enough time -to get back to Bunjil in time for lunch. So he shook hands with Mr. -Hiram Endicott and set out for that nucleus of civilisation. - -Making rather better time on the return journey, he arrived much pleased -with himself, considering that he had accomplished an important advance -in bush-craft and mineralogy. - -Sheila welcomed him in a clean print dress, with a smiling face, but -expressed a faint surprise at his safe return, and at his having found -the road to the sluice-working, and back. - -“Why! how could I lose the way?” he demanded, justly indignant. “Was not -the creek a sufficiently safe guide?” - -“Oh! it can be done,” answered the girl archly. “There was a gentleman -followed the creek the wrong way, and got among the ranges before he -found out his mistake; and another one—he was a newspaper editor—thought -he’d make a near cut, found himself miles lower down, and didn’t get -back before dark. My word! how hungry he was, and cross too!” - -“Well, I’m not very hungry or even cross—but I’m going to wash my hands, -after which lunch will be ready, I suppose?” - -“You’ve just guessed it,” she replied. “You’ll have tea, I suppose?” - -“Certainly. Whether Australia was created to develop the tea and sugar -industry, or tea to provide a portable and refreshing beverage for the -inhabitants to work, and travel, or even fight on, is not finally -decided, but they go wondrous well together.” - -After an entirely satisfactory lunch, Mr. Blount bethought him of the -cob—and knowing, as do all Englishmen, that to do your duty to your -neighbour when he is a horse, you must exercise him at least once a day, -he sent for George, and requested that he should be brought forth. In a -few moments the valuable animal arrived, looking quite spruce and -spirited, with coat much smoother and mane tidied; quite like an English -covert hack, as Mr. Blount told himself. His legs had filled somewhat, -but the groom assured Blount that that was nothing, and would go off. - -Taking counsel of the landlord on this occasion, that worthy host said, -“Would you like to see an old hand about here that could tell you a few -stories about the early days?” - -“Like?” answered Mr. Blount with effusion, “nothing better.” It was one -of his besetting virtues to know all about the denizens of any -place—particularly if partly civilised—wherever he happened to sojourn -for a season. It is chiefly a peculiarity of the imaginative-sympathetic -nature whereby much knowledge of sorts is acquired—sometimes. But there -is a reverse side to the shield. - -“George! Ge-or-ge!” shouted the landlord, “catch the old mare and bring -her round. Look slippy!” - -George fled away like the wind, with a sieve and a bridle in his hand, -and going to the corner of a small grass paddock, under false pretences -induced an elderly bay mare to come up to him (there being no corn in -the sieve), then he basely slipped the reins over her head and led her -away captive. - -The landlord reappeared with a pair of long-necked spurs buckled on to -his heels, and getting swiftly into the saddle, started the old mare off -at a shuffling walk. She was a character in her way. Her coat was rough, -her tail was long, there was a certain amount of hair on her legs, and -yes! she _was_ slightly lame on the near fore-leg. But her eye was -bright, her shoulder oblique; and as she reined up at a touch of the -rusty snaffle and stuck out her tail, Arab fashion, she began to show -class, Mr. Blount thought. - -“She’ll be all right, directly,” said the landlord, noticing Mr. -Blount’s scrutiny of the leg, “I never know whether it’s rheumatism, or -one of her dodges—she’s as sound as a bell after a mile.” To add to her -smart appearance, she had no shoes. - -They passed quickly through cornfields and meadow lands, rich in -pasture, and showing signs of an occasional heavy crop. The agriculture -was careless, as is chiefly the case where Nature does so much that man -excuses himself for doing little. A cottage on the south side of the -road surrounded by a well-cultivated orchard furnished the exception -which proves the rule. Mr. Middleton opened the rough but effective -gate, with a patent self-closing latch, without dismounting from his -mare, who squeezed her shoulder against it, as if she thought she could -open it herself. “Steady!” said her owner—“this gate’s not an uphill -one—she’ll push up a gate hung to slam down hill as if she knew who made -it. She does know a lot of things you wouldn’t expect of her.” Holding -the gate open till Mr. Blount and the cob were safely through, he led -the way to the cottage, from which issued a tall, upright, elderly man, -with a distinctly military bearing. - -“This is Mr. Blount, Sergeant,” said the host, “staying at my place for -a day or two—just from England, as you see! I told him you knew all -about this side, and the people in it—old hands, and new.” - -“Ay! the people—the people!” said the old man meditatively. “The land’s -a’ richt—fresh and innocent, just as God made it, but the people! the -de’il made _them_ on purpose to hide in these mountains and gullies, and -show what manner of folk could grow up in a far country, where they were -a law unto themselves.” - -“There was wild work in those days before you came up, Sergeant, I -believe!” asserted the landlord, tentatively. - -“Ay! was there,” and the old light began to shine in the trooper’s eyes. -“Battle, murder, and sudden death, every kind of villany that the wicked -heart of man could plan, or his cruel hand carry out. But you’ll come -ben and tak’ a cup of tea? The weather’s gey and cauld the noo.” - -Mr. Blount would be only too pleased. So the horses were “hung up” to -the neat fence of the garden, and the visitors walked into the spotless, -neat parlour. - -“Sit ye doon,” said the Sergeant—“Beenie, bring in tea, and some -scones.” A fresh-coloured country damsel, who presently appeared bearing -a jug of milk and the other requisites, had evidently been within -hearing. “My wife and bairns are doon country,” he explained, “or she -would have been prood to mak’ you welcome, sir. I’m by ma lane the -noo—but she’ll be back next week, thank God; it’s awfu’ lonesome, when -she’s awa.” - -“You knew Coke, Chamberlain, and Armstrong, all that crowd—didn’t you, -Sergeant?” queried the landlord. - -“That did I—and they knew _me_ before I’d done with them, murdering dogs -that they were! People used to say that I’d never die in my bed. That -this one or that had sworn to shoot me—or roast me alive if they could -tak’ me. But I never gave them a chance. I was young and strong in those -days—as active as a mountain cat in my Hieland home, and could ride for -twenty-four hours at a stretch, if I had special wark in hand. Old -Donald Bane here could tell fine tales if he could talk”—pointing to a -grand-looking old grey, feeding in a patch of lucerne. “The General let -me have him when he was cast, that’s ten years syne. We got our pensions -then, and we’re just hanging it out thegither.” - -“I suppose there are no bad characters in this neighbourhood now, -Sergeant?” said Blount. “Everything looks very quiet and peaceful.” - -“I wouldna say that,” answered the veteran, cautiously. “There’s many a -mile of rough country, between here and the Upper Sturt, and there’s apt -to be rough characters to match the country. Cattle are high, too. A -dozen head of fat cattle comes to over a hundred pound—that’s easy -earned if they’re driven all night, and sold to butchers that have one -yard at the back of a range, and another in the stringy-bark township, -to take the down off.” - -“Yet one wouldn’t think such things could be carried on _easily_ in this -part of the country—where there seem to be so many watchful eyes; but I -must have a longer ride this lovely morning, so I shall be much obliged -if you and our host here will dine with me at seven o’clock, when we can -have leisure to talk. You’re all by yourself, Sergeant, you know, so -there’s no excuse.” - -The Sergeant accepted with pleasure; the host was afraid he would be too -busy about the bar at the dinner hour, but would look in afterwards, -before the evening was spent. So it was settled, and the recent -acquaintances rode away. - -“What a fine old fellow the Sergeant is!” said Blount; “how wonderfully -neat and trim everything inside the house and out is kept.” - -“You’ll generally notice that about a place when the owner has been in -the police; the inspector blows up the troopers if there is a button -off, or a boot not cleaned. You’d think they’d let a prisoner go, to -hear him talk. Barracks—stable—carbine—horse—all have to be neat and -clean, polished up to the nines. Once they get the habit of that they -never leave it off, and after they settle down in a country place, as it -might be here, they set a good example to the farmers and bush people.” - -“So the police force promotes order in more ways than one—they root out -dishonesty and crime as well—they’re a grand institution of the -country.” - -“Well, yes, they are,” assented the landlord without enthusiasm, “though -they’re not all built the way the Sergeant is. I don’t say but what -they’re a trifle hard on publicans now and again for selling a drink to -a traveller on a Sunday. But if it’s the law, they’re bound to uphold -it. We’d be a deal worse off without them, and that’s the truth.” - -Blount and the landlord rode down the course of the stream with much -interest, as far as the Englishman was concerned. For the other, the -landscape was a thing of course. The rich meadow land which bordered the -stream—the far blue mountains—the fat bullocks and sleek horses feeding -in the fields—the sheep on their way to market, were to him an ancient -and settled order of things, as little provocative of curiosity as if -they had existed from the foundation of the world. He had been familiar -from childhood with them, or with similar stock and scenery. - -But the stranger’s interest and constant inquiry were unceasing. -Everything was new to him. The fences, the crops, the maize, of which -the tall stems were still standing in their rows, though occasionally -stripped and thrown down by the pigs which were rooting among them and -gleaning the smaller cobs left behind in the harvest plucking. A certain -carelessness of husbandry was noticed by the critic from over sea. The -hedges were mostly untrimmed, the plough too often left in the furrow; -the weeds, “thick-coming carpet after rain,” untouched by the scarifier; -the fences broken, hedges indifferently trimmed. - -“This sort of farming wouldn’t go down in England.” - -“Perhaps not. Never was there,” replied the Australian Boniface; “but -these chaps are mostly so well off, that they don’t mind losing a trifle -this way, rather than have too many men to pay and feed. Labour’s cheap -in England, I’m told; here it’s dear. So the farmer crowds on all he can -get till harvest and shearin’s past, then he pays off all hands, except -an old crawler or two, to milk cows and draw wood and water. Afterwards -he hires no more till ploughing begins again.” - -“There does seem to be a reason for that, and other things I have -observed,” assented Mr. Blount. “I suppose in time everything will be -nearer English, or perhaps American ideas. More likely the last. -Machinery for everything, and no time for decent leisurely country -work.” - -“Yes, sir—that’s about it,” said Mr. Middleton, looking at his watch, -“and now we’ve just time to get back for your lunch, and to tell my old -woman that the Sergeant’s coming to dine with you.” - -“Doesn’t your mare trot?” said Blount, as they moved off, “it seems to -me that Australian horses have only two paces, walk and canter. She -doesn’t seem lame now.” - -“I think sometimes it’s only her villany; she’s going as sound as a bell -now. Yes! she can trot a bit when she likes.” - -The cob, a fair performer, had just started, when Mr. Middleton gave the -mare’s left ear a gentle screw, which induced her to alter her pace from -a slow canter to a trot. “Trot, old woman!” he said, and settling to -that useful pace, she caught up the cob. Mr. Blount gradually increased -his pace—the old mare kept level with him, till after a dig with the -spurs, and a refresher with the hunting crop, it became apparent that -the cob was “on his top,” in stable phrase, doing a fair ten or eleven -miles an hour. - -“Are ye trotting now?” said the landlord, taking the old mare by the -head. - -“Yes! oh, yes—and pretty fair going, isn’t it?” - -“Not bad, but this old cripple can do better.” On which, as if she had -heard the words, the old mare stretched out her neck and passed the cob -“like a shot!” as her owner afterwards stated when describing the affair -to an admiring audience in the bar room. - -The cob, after an ineffectual attempt to keep up, was fain to break into -a hand gallop, upon which the old mare was pulled up, and the rider -explained that it took a professional to beat old “Slavey”; but that -owing to her uncertain temper, he had been unable to “take on” aspiring -amateurs, and so missed good wagers. - -“You might have ‘taken me on’ for a pound or two,” said Mr. Blount, “if -you had cared to back her, for I certainly should not have thought she -could have beaten my cob. She doesn’t seem built for trotting—does she?” - -“She is a bit of a take down,” admitted Mr. Middleton, “but I don’t bet -with gentlemen as stays in my house. Though her coat’s rough, she’s a -turn better bred than she looks. Got good blood on both sides, and you -can drive her in single or double harness, and ride her too, as far and -as fast as you like. There’s no doubt she’s a useful animal, for you -can’t put her wrong.” - -“You wouldn’t care to sell her?” - -“No! I couldn’t part with her. My wife and the children drive her. She’s -so good all round, and quiet too; and though there’s lots of horses in -the district, it’s wonderful what a time it takes to pick up a real good -one.” - -“Quite Arab like! I was told people would sell anything in Australia, -especially horseflesh. There’s the luncheon bell! Well, I’ve had a -pleasant morning, and even with the prospect of dinner at seven o’clock, -I feel equal to a modest meal, just to keep up the system. It’s -wonderful what an appetite I’ve had lately.” - -Mr. Blount fed cautiously, with an eye to dinner at no distant period. -Sheila was much excited at the idea of the Sergeant coming to dine with -him. - -“He’s a splendid old chap,” said she. “Such tales I used to hear about -him when I was a kiddie at school. Many a day when he’s been out after -cattle-stealers, and bushrangers, people said he’d never come back -alive. He was never afraid, though, and he made them afraid of _him_ -before he was done.” - -“By the way, where did you go to school, Sheila? You speak excellent -English, and you haven’t any twang or drawl, like some of the colonial -girls.” - -“Oh! at She-oak Flat. There was a State school there, and mother kept us -at it pretty regular, rain or shine, no staying at home, whatever the -weather was like or the roads, and we had three miles to walk, there and -back.” - -“So you didn’t go to Melbourne, or Sydney?” - -“No! Never been away from Bunjil. I suppose I shall see the sea some -day.” - -“_Never seen the sea—the sea?_ You astonish me!” - -“Never in my life. Do I look different or anything?” - -“You look very nice, and talk very well too. I begin to think the -seaside’s overrated; but I must take another walk, or the landlord will -think I don’t do his dinner justice. What’s it to be?” - -“Well, a turkey poult for one thing; the rest you’ll see when the covers -are taken off.” - -“Quite right. It’s impertinent curiosity, I’m aware.” - -“Oh! not that, but we’re going to astonish you, if we can.” - -Upon this Mr. Blount put on his boots again; they had been splashed in -the morning, and required drying. Crossing the creek upon a rustic -bridge, which seemed to depend more upon a fallen tree than on any -recognised plan of engineering, he turned his steps up stream, and faced -the Alpine range. The afternoon, like the morning, was golden bright, -though a hint of frost began to be felt in the clear keen air. The road -was fairly good, and had been formed and macadamised in needful places. - -It lay between the rushing creek on one side, towards which there was a -considerable drop, and the line of foot-hills on the other, leaving just -room for meeting vehicles to pass one another, though it needed the -accurate driving of bush experts to ensure safety. Water-races, flumes, -and open ditches crossed the road, testifying to the existence of -gold-workings in the neighbourhood, while an occasional miner on his way -to the township of Bunjil emerged from an unfrequented track and made -towards, what was to him, the King’s Highway. Once he heard the tinkling -of bells, when suddenly there came round a corner a train of thirty or -forty pack-horses, with all manner of sacks and bags, and even boxes on -their backs. There were a few mules also in the drove, to whom was -accorded the privilege of leadership, as on any block or halt taking -place, they pushed their way to the front, and set off up or down the -track with decision, as if better instructed than the rank and file. - -“Ha! ‘Bell-horses, bell-horses, what time o’ day? One o’clock, two -o’clock, three and away,’ as we used to say at school. Puts one in mind -of Devonshire,” murmured the tourist. “Many a keg of smuggled spirits -was carried on the backs of the packers, with their bells. I daresay an -occasional breach of custom-house regulations has occurred now and then -if the truth were told. I wouldn’t mind being quartered here at all. -It’s a droll world!” Mr. Blount’s rambles and reveries came to an end -half an hour after sunset, which just left him time to get back to his -hostelry, make some change for dinner, and toast himself before the -fire, in anticipation of the arrival of his guest. The Sergeant arrived -with military punctuality, a few minutes before the hour, having donned -for the occasion a well-worn, well-brushed uniform, in which he looked -like a “non-com.” recommended for the Victoria Cross. - -He greeted Sheila cordially and expressed a favourable opinion as to her -growth, and development, since she used to play hockey and cricket with -the boys at She-oak Flat. “And right weel did she play,” he continued, -addressing himself to his entertainer, “she won the half-mile race too, -against all comers, didn’t you, Sheila?” - -“I was pretty smart then, wasn’t I, Sergeant? Do you remember fishing me -out of the creek, when I slipped off the log?” - -“I mind weel, I thocht you were a swimmer, till I saw ye go down, head -under; so I was fain to loup into ten feet of snow water and catch a -cold that was nigh the deeth o’ me. I misdooted gin ye were worth it a’! -What think ye?” - -The girl shook her head at him, her dark, grey eyes bright with -merriment, as she tripped out of the room, to reappear with the turkey -poult before referred to. “She’s a grand lassie!” said the Sergeant, -looking after her admiringly, “and as guid as she’s bonnie. The men and -women that are reared among these hills are about the finest people the -land turns out! The women are aye the best, it’s a pity the lads are not -always sae weel guided. If there was a Hieland regiment here to draft -some of thae lang-leggit lads into ilka year, it would be the making of -the haill countryside.” - -“Very likely there will be, some day, but do you think they would stand -the discipline?” - -“Deevil a doot on’t, they’re easy guided when they have gentlemen to -deal with as offishers; as for scouting, and outpost duty, they’re born -for it. Fighting’s just meat and drink to them, ance they get fair -started.” - -“English people don’t think so,” said the tourist. “They’ve always -opposed the idea of having a naval reserve here, though everybody that’s -lived in the country long enough to know will tell me that Sydney -Harbour lads are born sailors, and if there are many of the mountain -boys like my friend ‘Little-River-Jack,’ they should make the best light -cavalry in the world.” - -The Sergeant bent a searching eye on the speaker. “‘Little-River-Jack,’ -ay, I ken the callant brawly. Ride, aye, that can he, and he’s a freend, -ye say?” - -“Well, I came here with him. He showed me the way, an I wouldn’t swear -he didn’t save my life, coming over that Razor-back pinch, on the -Divide, as he called it.” - -“And so ye cam’ on the Divide wi’ him, ou, ay? And ye’re gangin’ awa’ -wi’ him to see the country?” - -“Yes! I hear he knows every inch of it from the head of the Sturt to the -Lower Narran, besides the mountain gold diggings. I’m going to see one -of them, with him, when he comes to-morrow. There’s nothing strange -about that, is there?” - -“I wadna say; he joost buys gold in a sma’ way, and bullocks, for the -flesher-folk, aboot the heid o’ the river. There’s talk whiles that he’s -ower sib with the O’Hara gang, but I dinna ken o’ my ain knowledge.” - -“Not proven, I suppose—the Scottish verdict, eh! Sergeant?” - -The dinner was a success. The soup was fair. The fish represented by a -Murray cod, about five pound weight, truly excellent. The turkey poult, -like most country-bred birds, incomparably plump and tender, was roasted -to a turn. The other adjuncts in strict keeping with the _pièce de -résistance_. - -The guest declined to join his entertainer in a bottle of Reisling, -preferring a glass of whisky and water. Towards the close of the -entertainment the landlord was announced, who took neither wine nor -whisky, excusing himself on the ground that he had already been -compelled “for the good of the house” to drink with more than one -customer. - -“I shall have to take to a decanter of toast and water, coloured to look -like sherry. This ‘What’ll you have, Boss?’ business, is getting too hot -for me lately, and the men don’t like to see you afraid to taste your -own liquor. But, as long as it’s something, they don’t seem to care what -it is. I’ll take a cigar, though, sir, so as to be good company.” - -One of the tourist’s extra quality Flor de Habanas being lighted the -conversation grew more intimate, and bordering on the confidential. The -Sergeant was prevailed upon to mix a tumbler of toddy, the night being -cold, and the landlord, whose tongue had been previously loosened, among -the choice spirits in the second dining-room, incited the Sergeant to -give the company the benefit of his reminiscences. - -“It’s cold enough, and a man that came in late,” said he, “could feel -the frozen grass as stiff as wire. But the Sergeant’s been out many a -night as bad, with nothing but his coat to sleep in, and afraid to make -a fire for fear of giving away where his camp was.” - -“Ay!” said the Sergeant, and his face settled into one of grim resolve, -changing not suddenly, but, as it were, stage after stage. - -“I mind one chase I had after an outlawed chiel that began wi’ -horse-stealing, and cattle ‘duffing’ (they ca’ it in these parts), and -ended in bloodshed maist foul and deleeberate. Ye’ve heard of -Sub-Inspector Dayrell?” - -“Should think I had,” said the landlord. “It was before I took this -house; I was at Beechworth then, but every one heard of the case. He was -the officer that ‘shopped’ Ned Lawless, and a young swell from the old -country. There was a girl in it too. Eumeralla was where he arrested -them, and everybody knew there was something ‘cronk’ about it.” - -“The verra mon! He’s gane to his accoont, and Ned’s serving his -sentence. I aye misdooted that the evidence against Lance Trevanion -(that was his name, he cam’ of kenned folk in Devon,) was ‘cookit,’ and -weel cookit too, for his destruction, puir laddie.” - -“Then you think he was innocent?” - -“As innocent as the lassie that brocht in the denner.” - -“What sentence did he get?” - -“Five years’ imprisonment—wi’ hard labour. But he didna sairve it. He -flitted frae the hulk _Success_ where they sent him after he nigh killed -Warder Bracker. He was a dour man and a cruel; he’d made his boast that -he’d ‘break’ Trevanion, as he called it, because he couldna get him to -knuckle doon to him like ither convicts, puir craters! So he worked him -harder and harder—complained o’ him for insolence—got him to the dark -cell—once and again insulted him when there was nae ither body to -hear—and one day gave him a kick, joost as he’d been a dog in his road. - -“That was mair than enough. Clean mad and desperate, Trevanion rushed at -him, had him doon, and him wi’ his hands in his throttle, before he -could cry on the guard. His eyes were starting out of his head—he was -black in the face and senseless, when a warder from outside the cell who -heard the scuffle, pulled him off. Anither ten seconds, and Bracker -would have been a dead man—as it was, he was that lang coming to, that -the doctor gave him up.” - -“What sentence did he get? They’d have hanged him long ago?” queried the -host. - -“He’d have got ‘life,’ or all the same twenty years’ gaol; but Bracker -had been had up for cruelty to prisoners in another gaol before, and Mr. -Melrose the Comptroller and the Visiting Justice were dead against a’ -kinds o’ oppression, so they ordered a thorough inquiry. Some of the -prisoners swore they’d seen Bracker knocking Trevanion about. He’d been -‘dark-celled’ for weeks on bread and water. When he came out he could -hardly stand up. They’d heard him swear at Trevanion and call him a -loafing impostor—and other names. The evidence went clear against him. -Mr. McAlpine said Bracker ought to have had a year in gaol himself, and -recommended his dismissal. So he left the service, and a good thing too. -I’m no sayin’ that some of the convicts o’ the early fifties were not -desperate deevils, as ever stretched halter. But they were paying for -their ineequities—a high price too, when they’re lockit up night and -day, working the whiles with airn chains on their limbs. And they that -would make _that_ lot harder and heavier, had hearts like the nether -millstane.” - -“What became of Trevanion, after all?” - -“He was sent to the hulk _Success_. No great relief, ane would think. -But it was better than stone walls. He had the sea and the sky around -him day and night. It made a new man of him, they say. And before the -year was oot (he had plenty money, ye see), he dropped into a boat -through the port hole, one dark night, just before the awfullest storm -ye ever saw. Horses were waitin’ on him next day, and ye’ll no hinder -him frae winning to the New Rush at Tin Pot Flat Omeo, where he worked -as a miner and prospector, for twa year and mair, under the name of -‘Ballarat Harry.’” - -“Could not the police find him?” queried the tourist. “They were said to -be awfully smart in the goldfields days.” - -“Yes!” said the old Sergeant solemnly, “they did find him, but they -could do naething till him.” - -“You don’t say so! Well, this is a strange country. He was identified, I -suppose?” said the stranger. “Why was that?” - -“Because he was deid, puir laddie! We pulled him up from a shaft saxty -feet deep, wi’ a bullet through him, and his head split with an axe. It -was Kate Lawless that found him—her husband, Larry Trevenna and the -murdering spawn o’ hell, Caleb Coke, had slain him for his gold—and it -may be for ither reasons.” - -“Good God! what a tragedy! Did the scoundrels escape?” - -“Coke did by turning King’s evidence. But Trevenna’s wife rode near a -hundred miles on end to give Dayrell the office. He ran Trevenna down in -Melbourne, just as he had taken his passage to England under a false -name. He was found guilty, and hanged.” - -“Then Trevenna’s wife worked the case up against her own husband? How -was that?” - -“Weel, aweel, I’ll no deny the case was what may be tairmed -compleecated—sair mixed up. Lance Trevanion had been her sweetheart, and -when she jaloused, owing to Dayrell’s wiles, that he had thrown her -over, she just gave the weight o’ her evidence against him, on his trial -for having a stolen horse in his possession, knowing it to be stolen. -Then in rage and desperation, for she repented sair, when she saw what -her treachery had brought on him, she married Trevenna, who used her -like a dog, they say, and was aye jealous of Lance Trevanion. And her -cousin Tessie Lawless, it was her that got him frae the hulk.” - -“Oh! another woman!” murmured Blount; “as you say, Sergeant, it is a -trifle mixed up. Who was she in love with?” - -“Just Lance, and nae ither. She was true as steel, and never ceased -working for him night and day till she got a warder in the hulk weel -bribit, and persuadit twa gentlemen that lived in Fishermen’s Bend by -wild-fowling to tak’ him awa’ in their dinghy and find a guide and twa -horses that brought him to Omeo. A wild, uncanny spot it was then, I -warrant ye. Then the young lady, his cousin that came frae England to -marry him—” - -“What do I hear, Sergeant? _Another woman_ in love with the ill-fated -hero; that makes _three_—in love with the same man at the same time. It -sounds incredible. And were they _really_ fond of him?” - -“Woman’s a mysterious crea-a-tion, I’ve aye held, since she first walkit -in the gairden o’ Eden,” quoth the Sergeant impressively. “Either of the -Lawless girls would have died for him—and gloried in it. Kate, that was -his ruin, wild and undeesciplined as she was, but for the poison that -Dayrell insteeled into her, wad ha’ laid her head on the block to save -his. Puir Tessie _did_ die for him, as ye may ca’ it, for she went into -Melbourne Hospital when the fever was at its fiercest, and cried that -they should give her the warst cases. The puir sick diggers and sailors -called her ‘The Angel of the Fever Ward,’ and there she wrought, and -wrought, day after day, and night after night, until she catchit it -hersel’, and so the end came. The doctors and the ither attendants said -she hadna the strength to strive against it.” - -“A jewel of a girl!” quoth the Englishman; “why didn’t he marry her?” - -“She wouldn’t marry _him_,” said the Sergeant. “She kenned he was -promised to his cousin, a great leddy frae the auld country, who came -all the way to Australia to find him, and she said he must keep his -troth.” - -“Women seem to differ in Australia much as they do elsewhere,” mused the -stranger. - -“And what for no?” queried the old trooper; “there’s bad and good all -over the world—men as weel’s women—and the more you see of this country, -the more you’ll find it oot. If they’re born unlike from the start, -they’re as different from one another as your cob (as ye ca’ him) frae -‘Little-River-Jack’s’ Keewah that can climb like a goat, or from -Middleton’s auld ‘Slavey’ that can gallop twenty miles before breakfast, -or draw a buggy sixty miles a day at a pinch. But if we get talking -horse, we’ll no quit till cockcraw.” - - - - - CHAPTER III - - -“YOU will tell us about Dayrell, Sergeant?” said Mr. Blount. “Is it a -tale of mystery and fear?” - -“It was God’s judgment upon the shedding of innocent blood,” said the -Sergeant solemnly; “they’re in their graves, the haill company, the -betrayer and the betrayed. The nicht’s turned dark and eerie. To say -truth, I wad as lieve lay the facts before ye, in the licht o’ day. It’s -a dark walk by the river oaks, and a man may weel fancy he hears -whisperings, and voices of the deid in the midnight blast. I’m at your -sairvice ony day before ye leave Bunjil, but I’ll be makin’ tracks the -noo, wi’ your permeession, sir, and my thanks to ye. Gude nicht!” - -The veteran had made up his mind, and wrapped in a horseman’s cloak such -as the paternal Government of Victoria still serves out to the Mounted -Police Force, he marched forth into the night. The landlord parted from -him on the verandah, while Blount walked up and down for an hour, -watching a storm-cloud whelming in gathering gloom the dimly outlined -range, until the rain fell with tropical volume necessitating a retreat -to the parlour, where the logs still sent out a grateful warmth. “The -old man must have missed that downpour,” he said. “He was wise to depart -in good time.” - - * * * * * - -Another meeting was arranged. “Little-River-Jack” sent word by a “sure -hand,” as was the wording of a missive in pre-postal days, that he would -arrive in Bunjil on the next ensuing Saturday, ready for a daylight -start on Sunday morning, if that would suit Mr. Blount’s convenience. - -Pursuant to his promise, the Sergeant arrived to lunch at the Bunjil -Hotel on the day specified. He did not make demand for the groom, but -riding into the yard, opened the stable door and put up his ancient -steed, slipping the bridle back over his ears, however, but leaving it -ready to be replaced at short notice. - -“It’s an auld habit o’ mine,” he said to the landlord, who now made his -appearance with apologies for the absence of the groom, who was “out, -getting a load of wood,” he explained. “We burn a lot here in the -winter—it’s just as well we haven’t to pay for it—but it takes old -George half his time drawing it in.” - -“You’ve got some fresh horses here,” said the Sergeant, his keen eye -resting on three well-conditioned nags at one end of the row of stalls; -“are ye gaun to have races—the Bunjil Town Plate and Publican’s -Purse—and are the lads that own thae flyers come to tak’ pairt? Yon -grey’s a steeplechaser, by his looks, and the two bays are good enough -for Flemington.” - -The landlord fidgeted a little before answering. - -“They’re some digging chaps that have a camp at Back Creek. They buy -their beef from ‘Little-River-Jack,’ and he takes their gold at a price. -They do a bit of trade in brumbie-shooting now and then, the hides sell -well and the horse-hair—I’m told. Between that and digging they knock -out a fair living.” - -“Nae doot,” replied the Sergeant, slowly and oracularly. “If there’s -aught to be won by a guid horse and a bould rider, these are the men -that’ll no lose it for want of a sweater or twa. What names have they?” -And here the old man fixed his eye searchingly on the host. - -“Two O’Haras and a Rorke,” answered the host, haltingly. “So they tell -me—‘Irish natives,’ from Gippsland way they call themselves.” - -“I wadna doot,” quoth the Sergeant. “Eldest brother Jemmy O’Hara, a fell -chiel. But let byganes be byganes. It’s ill raking up misdeeds of fouk -that’s maybe deid or repenting, repenting in sa-ack-cloth and ashes. -It’ll be one o’clock, joost chappit. I’ll awa ben.” - - * * * * * - -“Ay!” said the Sergeant, lunch being cleared away, and both men sitting -before the replenished fire, which the proximity of Bunjil to the snow -line, as well as the frost of the night before, rendered grateful, “it’s -e’en a tale of vengeance long delayed, but the price of bluid was -paid—ay, and mair than paid, when the hour cam’, and the man. I was -stationed at Omeo, I mind weel, years after Larry Trevenna was hangit -for the crime, as well he desairved. If one had misdooted the words of -Holy Writ, there was the confirmation plain for a’ men to see. ‘Be sure -thy sin will find thee out.’ They were half brithers, it was weel -kenned, word came frae hame to that effect, and little thought the -author of their being that the bairn o’ shame, the offspring of the -reckless days of wild, ungoverned youth, was born to slay the heir of -his ancient house, in a far land; to die by the hangman’s cord, amid the -curses of even that strange crew amang whom his life was spent. But he -was fain to ‘dree his weird,’ as in auld Scottish fashion we say; all -men must fulfil their appointed destiny. It’s a hard law maybe, and I -canna agree with oor Presbyterian elders, that ae man is foredoomed to -sin and shame, the tither to wealth and honours, and that neither can -escape the lot prepared for him frae the foundation of the warld! But -whiles, when ye see the haill draama played oot, and a meestery made -clear, the maist careless unbeliever must acknowledge that Heaven’s -justice is done even in this warld o’ appairent contradeections. Weel, -aweel, I’m gey and loth to come to the tale deed o’ bluid, o’ the -fearsome eend. Things had settled doon at Omeo after the events ye ken -o’. There was a wheen duffing and horse-stealing to contend wi’! But -siccan lifting of kye will there be, amang these mountains and glens, I -had a’maist said till the Day of Judgment—but no to be profane, the -country was quieter than it had been for years, when word came to -heidquarters that Ned Lawless had broken gaol; had been seen makin’ -across by Talbingo to the table-land, aboot Long Plain and Lobb’s Hole. -There was an ‘auld gun’ (as we ca’ confairmed creeminals) in the -lock-up, as the news came; a Monaro native, and haun and glove with a’ -the moss-troopers and reivers south of the Snowy River. - -“‘D’ye know where Inspector Dayrell is now, Sergeant?’ says he, quite -free and pleasant. He was only in for ‘unlawfully using’—a maitter o’ -six months’ gaol at the warst. - -“‘Maybe I do, maybe I don’t; what call have ye to be speirin’?’ - -“‘He’ll never trouble me again, Sergeant, I’m full up of anything like a -big touch now; this bit of foolishness don’t count. But if you want to -do Dayrell a rale good turn, tell him to clear out to New Zealand, the -Islands, San Francisco—anywhere.’ - -“‘Why should I?’ says I. ‘And him to lose his chance of being made a -Superintendent.’ - -“‘Superintendent be hanged!’ (it was not in Court, ye ken), and he put -his heid doon low, and spak’ low and airnest. - -“‘Is a step in the service worth a man’s life? You tell him from me, -Monaro Joe, that if Ned Lawless isn’t dead or taken within a month, his -life’s not worth a bent stirrup iron.’ - -“‘And the Lawless crowd broken up?’ says I. ‘Man! ye’re gettin’ dotty. -Ned’s a dour body, waur after these years’ gaol. I wadna put it past -him, but he’s helpless, wantin’ mates. Coke’s a cripple with the -rheumatics. Kate’s awa, naebody kens where.’ - -“‘Ye’re a good offisher, Sergeant,’ says he, ‘but you don’t know -everything. You want a year’s duffing near Lobb’s Hole to sharpen you -up. But if I lay you on to something, will you get the Beak to let me -down easy about this sweating racket, a bloomin’ moke, worth about two -notes! I never offered him for sale, the police know that. A rotten -screw, or I shouldn’t have been overhauled by that new chum Irish -trooper. I was ashamed of myself, I raly was.’ - -“‘If ye give information of value to the depairtment as regards this -dangerous creeminal,’ says I, ‘I’ll no press the case.’ - -“‘Well—this is God’s truth,’ says he, quite solemn. ‘His sister Kate’s -been livin’ at Tin Pot Flat for months, under another name. They say -she’s off her head at times, never been right since she lost her child.’ - -“‘Lost her child!’ says I. ‘Ye don’t say so—the puir crater, and a fine -boy he was. How cam’ that?’ - -“‘Well, the time Kate rode to White Rock and started Dayrell after Larry -Trevenna, just as he was goin’ to clear out for the old country, passin’ -hisself off for Lance (that _was_ a caper, wasn’t it?), she left her boy -with the stockrider’s young wife at Running Creek. The girl (she was a -new chum Paddy) was away for a bit, hangin’ out clothes or somethin’; -the poor kid got down to the creek and was drowned. Kate was stark -starin’ mad for forty-eight hours. Then she took the kid in front of her -on the little roan mare, and never spoke till after the Coroner come and -orders it to be buried.’ - -“‘And she at Tin Pot Flat, and me nane the wiser! Any mair of the -crowd?’ - -“‘You remember Dick?—the young brother—he that was left behind when they -cleared for Balooka—he’s a man grown, this years and years; well, she -lives with him. And they say she goes to the shaft every day that Lance -was hauled out from, to kneel down and pray. What for, God only knows. -Dick’s quiet, but dangerous; he’s the best rider and tracker from Dargo -High Plain to Bourke, and that’s a big word.’ - -“‘I ken that; I’ll joost ride round, and tak’ a look—he’ll need -watchin’, and if he’s joined Ned, and Kate’s makin’ a third, there’ll be -de’il’s wark ere lang.’ - -“That evening the tent was doon, Kate and the younger Lawless chiel -gane—and nane could say when, how, or where. - - * * * * * - -“For a week, and the week after that, the wires were going all day and -half the nicht. Every police station on the border of New South Wales -and Victoria from Monaro to Murray Downs was noticed to look up their -black tracker, and have their best horses ready. As for Dayrell, they -couldna warn him that the avengers o’ bluid, as nae doot they held -themselves to be, were on his trail. He was richt awa amang the ‘snaw -leases,’ (as they ca’d them—a country only habitable by man or beast -frae late spring to early autumn;) on the trail o’ a gang o’ horse and -cattle thieves that had defied the police of three colonies. They had -left a record in Queensland before they crossed the New South Wales -border. - -“Noted men among them—ane tried for murder! A mate, suspect o’ -treachery, was found in a creek wi’ twa bullets in’s heid—there were -ither evil deeds to accoont for. - -“Ay, they were a dour gang—fightin’ to the death. So Dayrell took five -of his best men and volunteered for the capture. ‘He was getting rusty,’ -he said, ‘but would break up this gang or they should have his scalp.’ -These were the very words he used. - -“Omeo diggings were passed on the way up. There was sure to be some one -that knew _him_, wherever he went in any of the colonies. - -“A tall man put his head out of a shaft on ‘Tin Pot’ as he rode through -the Flat at the head of his troopers, and cursed him with deleeberate -maleegnity until they were out of sight. ‘Ride on, you bloody dog!’ he -said—grinding his teeth—‘you won’t reign much longer now that Ned and I -can work together again, and we have your tracks. I know every foot of -the road you’re bound to travel now—once you’re as far as Merrigal -there’s no get away between Snowy Creek and the Jibbo. It was our rotten -luck the day we first set eyes on you. We were not such a bad crowd if -we’d been let alone. Tessie had half persuaded Ned to drop the cross -work after we got shut of the Balooka horses. The day afore he told me -he’d two minds to let ’em go on the road. Then he couldn’t have been -pulled for more than illegal using, which isn’t felony. But _you_ must -come along and spoil everything. Lance was copped, as innocent as a -child: Ned gets a stretch—it was his death sentence. I know what it’s -turned _him_ into. Kate’s gone mad, what with losin’ the kid—a fine -little chap, so he was (I cried when I heard of it)! Larry’s -hanged—serve him right. - -“‘Lance is dead and buried, poor chap! I don’t know what’ll become of -me. And what’s more I don’t care; but I’ll have revenge, blast you! -before the year’s out, if I swing for it!’ - -“He didna ken Dick Lawless again in his digger’s dress, and there were -few that he didna remember either, if it was ten years after. So he -joost gaed alang blithe and gay. The sun was abune the fog that aye -hangs o’er the flat till midday, or maybe disna lift at a’ like a -Highland mist. He touched his horse’s rein, and the gey, weel-trained -beastie gave a dance like, and shook his heid, till bit and curb chain -jingled again. - -“Ah! me, these things are fearsome at the doing and but little better in -the telling. He wadna hae been sae blithe had he seen anither face that -peered o’er the shaft just as he turned at the angle of the road and -struck into a canter with his troopers ahint him. It was the face of a -haggard, clean-shaved man, with hair cut close to the head, and a wild, -desperate look like a hunted beast—only one miner on the field knew who -the strange man was, and he would never have kent him, but for hearin’ a -whisper the night before of a ‘cross cove’ having come late at night to -‘Mrs. Jones’s’ tent. - -“Dead beat and half starved to boot was he, but word went round the -little goldfield that it was Ned Lawless, the famous horse and cattle -‘duffer’ who’d been arrested by Inspector Dayrell, and ‘put away’ for -five years. - -“Miners are no joost attached to thae kind o’ folk, and for this one, -believed to have stolen wash-dirt cart-horses at Ballarat, they -certainly had no love, but, as for layin’ the police on the hunted -wretch, even though the reward was tempting, not a man, working as they -were on a poor field, but would have scorned the action, and been vara -unceevil to him that suggested it. No! that was the business of the -police—they were paid for it—let them run him down or any other poor -devil that was ‘wanted,’ but as for helping them by so much as raising a -finger, it was not in their line. - -“Anyhow, an hour before dawn, one man who had reasons for airly rising -thought he saw Dick with his sister, ‘Mrs. Jones,’ and the stranger, -ride down the gulley which led towards Buckley’s Crossing; the woman was -on a roan pony mare, which she brought with her when she came on ‘Tin -Pot,’ a year ago. The stranger had an old grey screw Dick had bought for -a note, which would let any one catch him, night or day. The fog was -thick, and he couldn’t say on his oath which way they went, but they -took what was called the ‘mountain track.’” - -“A nice crowd, as they say in these parts,” said Mr. Blount. “Where did -they go and what did they do, Sergeant?” - -“They were ready for any de’il’s wark, ye may believe,” said the old -man, impressively, “and, as I heard frae one that daurna speak me false, -they were no lang ere they were at it. - -“The day after they were seen leaving ‘Tin Pot,’ they called at a small -settler’s place and took his twa best horses. He was a man that had good -anes, wad win races at sma’ townships. - -“The wife and her sister were at hame, the man was awa’. - -“They loaded up a packhorse with rations, more by token a rug and twa -pairs blankets. The younger man told them the horses wad maybe stray -back. He paid for the rations and the blankets, but said they must have -them. It was a lonely place. The woman sat on her horse, and wadna come -ben, though they asked her to have a cup of tea. She shook her head; -they couldna see her face for a thick veil she wore. - -“This information didna come in for some days later, when the man won -hame; the women were afraid to leave the place, ye may weel believe. The -raiders rode hard, maistly at nicht, keepit aff the main road, and took -‘cuts’ when they could find them. Dick Lawless knew them a’, could -amaist smell them, his mates used to say. - -“They got the Inspector’s trail and never lost it; if they were off it -for a while, they could always ‘cut’ it again. _They_ had telegraphs -plenty (bush anes) but there were nane to warn Dayrell o’ them that -thirsted for his life-bluid, and were following on through the snaw, -like the wolves on a Russian steppe, as the buiks tell us. He was joost -‘fey,’ in the high spirits that foretell death or misfortune, as we -Hielanders believe. He had the chance o’ a capture that would ring -through three colonies. It did that, but no in the way he expeckit. - -“He heard tell frae a bushman, a brither o’ the man that the gang shot -before he had time to do more than threaten to ‘give them away,’ that -they were to be at the ‘Ghost Camp’ aboot the twentieth o’ the month. An -auld fastness this, at the edge o’ broken, mountainous country, where -the wild blacks cam’ to hide after killing cattle or robbing huts, when -Queensland was first ta’en up by squatters. A place no that easy to ride -to, maist deeficult to discover, amang the great mountain forests o’ the -border. Battles had there been, between the black police and the wild -native tribes that were strong and bold in the pioneer days, no kenning, -puir bodies, the strength o’ ceevilised man. It was there they halted -after the massacre of Wild Honey Bank, where they killed after nightfa’ -the haill family, men and women, wives and weans, an awfu’ spectacle -they were as they lay deid in the hot sun, unshaded, uncovered. I was -tauld it by a man, was ane of the pairty that helped bury them. The -pursuers slew and spared not. Wha shall judge them after the fearsome -sights they saw? There’s but few of that tribe left alive, and sma’ -wonder. - -“An eerie, waesome spot, they tell me. The gunyahs hae na been leeved in -this mony a year. The few fra-agments o’ the tribe conseeder it to be -haunted, and winna gang near. It’s a’ strewed wi’ skulls, and skeletons -of whites and blacks mingled, nane having been at the pains to bury -them. The grass grows rank abune the mouldering relics o’ baith races. -The banes gleam white when the moon is at her full, lying matted -thegither amaist concealed by the growth of years. - - * * * * * - -“Weel, aweel! I’m just daundering on toward the eend, the sair, -sorrowfu’ eending o’ a fearsome tale. The twa pairties, that wad be the -Queensland gang, and the Sydney-side lot, were nigh hand to the ‘Ghost -Camp’ aboot the same time. - -“That’s sayin’ the three Lawless bodies had ridden night and day—picking -up fresh horses for the men, as they came along. Kate rode the roan pony -mare all through, a grand little crater she was, and weel she earned her -name ‘Wallaby,’ sae ca’ed after the kangaroo beastie that wad hop frae -rock to rock, like ony goat o’ the cliffs. - -“The Inspector reckoned that Bradfield’s gang wad show up in the -gloaming o’ the appointed day. No kenning that they had been betrayed, -they wad camp careless like. Dayrell’s tracker creepit oot and lay ahint -a rock while they unsaiddled and turned loose their horses. Bradfield he -knew—a tall powerfu’ chiel, with a big beard, a Sydney-side native, and -if he wasna the best bushman in Queensland, he wasna that far aff. Of -the four men with him, twa had ‘done time,’ and were worse after they -cam’ oot o’ gaol, than when they gaed in. They had grog in them; they -made a fire—not a black fellow’s one—and talked and laughed and swore, -as they didna care wha might hear them. - -“So far, a’ went weel. Dayrell’s party lay close—made no fire—prepared -to deleever attack at dawn, when dootless Bradfield’s men wad be asleep -or all unsuspeecious. But were they? By no manner of means. The twa -Lawless brithers and Kate had won to Wandong Creek i’ the nicht—Ned and -Kate had lain them doon, joost dead beat and like to dee wi’ sheer -exhaustion. Dick stowed the horse away in the gulley. It’s deep, and -amaist covered in wi’ trees and fern. Then being a tireless crater and -in hard work and training, he thocht he would tak’ a wee bit look oot, -to make a’ safe. It was weel thocht on—though not for the police party. -It wasna lang ere he heard a horse whinnie. Not the nicher o’ a brumbie, -either. Then cam’ the tramp o’ anither and the jingle o’ a hobble chain. -Could it be the police? He would soon know. Creeping frae tree to tree, -he came on the mob. Six riding horses, and two ‘packers’ all with the -Crown brand on. Dayrell’s dark chestnut, he knew _him_ again. And a -light bay with two white hind fetlocks. Police horses all, well fed and -groomed. Now where was the camp? - -“Keeping wide and crawling from log to log, like a night-wandering -crater o’ the forest, he thought he saw a glimmer o’ a fire—not a small -one either. What d—d fool had lighted that, with a hot trail so close? -So he walkit, ye ken, till what suld ail him to come ram-sham on six -sleeping men. Police in plain clothes? Never! It was Bradfield’s gang, -believing that Dayrell was no within a colony o’ them. And now to get -speech. Their revolvers were under their hands, their rifles handy ye -ken. If an alarm was given it might spoil the whole plan. With two other -rifles, not counting Kate (and she was a fair shot at short range), they -might turn the tables on Dayrell and his blasted police. - -“Keen and ready witted as are the de’il’s bairns at their master’s wark, -Dick Lawless wasna lang in conseedering the pairt he was to play. -Crawling on hands and knees, he got as near Bradfield as was wise like -without awaking him. He then gave a low whistle, such as stockriders -give to tell of cattle in sight. - -“‘Who the hell’s that?’ growled Bradfield, awake and alert. - -“‘All right, Jim, only Dick Lawless. Cattle going to break camp. (They -had been droving in old days.) Quite like old times, isn’t it?’ - -“‘Wish I was back again behind a thousand Windorah bullocks,’ said the -bushranger. - -“‘I wouldn’t mind either, Jim. But all that’s behind us now—worse luck! -Where do you think Dayrell is? Give it up? D’ye see that black ridge, -with three pines on it? Well, he’s there, waiting for daylight. _He’s_ -not fool to make a fire you can see miles off. You’ve nearly been had, -Jim. He came up on purpose to collar you. T’other side the black ridge, -he’s planted men and horses, six of ’em and a packer.’ - -“‘Who’s with you?’ - -“‘Just Ned and Kate. They’re lying down in Wandong Creek. Kate’s goin’ -dotty now, poor thing, but she would come with us. Thinks she’ll see the -last of Dayrell.’ - -“‘Strikes me it’s a case of “Just before the battle, mother,”’ said -Bradfield. ‘I’ll wake these chaps. We must have a snack and fix up the -Waterloo business. It’s an hour to daylight yet.’ - -“Thus speaking he touched the man on his left, who awoke and touched the -next. Without a spoken word the five men were aroused. - -“‘Now, chaps!’ said the leader, in low but distinct tones, ‘Dick Lawless -is come to give in the office. He’s on the job too. Dayrell’s behind the -black ridge, with his five fancy troopers. He’s come to collar us. Dick -here and Ned have come to pay off old scores. With us to help he’s like -enough to do it. We’re nigh about equal members, not countin’ Kate, but -the surprise they’ll get’s as good as two men.’ - -“‘How’s that?’ asked one of the gang. - -“‘It’s this way, we’ll have first go. He thinks we don’t know he’s here. -We’ll take cover, and as soon as he shows out to surprise us, we roll -into him. Dick here, Ned and Kate, go at him from Wandong Creek side. -That’ll put the stuns on him. Ned and Dick, both dead shots, will -account for Dayrell. If he goes down the other traps won’t stand long. -Dick, you’ll have a snack? No? Then, so long.’ - -“The faint line of clearer sky was slowly making itself veesible in the -east as Dayrell at the head of his troopers moved towards Bradfield’s -camp. The black tracker had showed him the position. The glimmering fire -did the rest. ‘Now for a rush, men, we’ll catch them asleep.’ Saddles -and swags were strewn around the fire, billy and frying-pan were there, -not a man to be seen. But from five rifles at short range came a volley -at the troopers, well-aimed and effective, and Dayrell’s right arm fell -to his side broken or disabled. - -“Three shots immediately followed from the Wandong Creek timber, on the -left flank of the police. Confused at finding themselves between two -fires, their leader wounded—for Dayrell’s right arm still hung -useless—the troopers, after a second ineffectual volley, wavered. Just -then three figures appeared, standing on a rock which ran crossways to -the narrow outlet by which alone could the police party mak’ retreat. - -“At the second volley two troopers dropped, one mortally, the other -severely, wounded. ‘Hold up your hands, if you don’t all want to be -wiped out,’ shouted Bradfield. - -“‘By the Lord! that’s Kate Lawless,’ said one of the troopers, pointing -to a tall woman who waved a rifle and shouted defiance after the first -volley was fired. - -“‘And that’s Ned, or his ghost,’ said another. ‘I thought he was safe in -Ballarat Gaol. How the h—l did they get here?’ - -“As he spoke, the two men on the rock took deliberate aim and fired, the -Inspector in return firing his revolver with the left hand. - -“The clean-shaved man dropped dead, wi’ a bullet through his head; -Dayrell staggered for a few seconds and making an attempt to recover -himself, sank to the earth. The woman sprang down from the rock, and -rushing across the line of fire raised the dying man’s head from the -ground and gazed into his face, in which the signs of fast-coming death -were apparent. - -“‘So this is the end of Inspector Frank Dayrell,’ she said, ‘trapped -like a dingo by the poor devils he was hunting down. I told you you’d -repent it, if you didn’t let _us_ alone. And now my words have come -true; the Lawless family gang’s broke up, but the bloodhound hasn’t much -life in him neither. I sha’n’t last the year out, the old lot’s close up -dead and done for, that was so jolly, and worked hard and straight, when -we first came on Ballarat. Pity we took to ‘cross’ work, wasn’t it? -Love—as they call it—’ here she smiled a strange, sad smile, ‘then -jealousy, revenge, false swearing, murder—Poor Lance! I _did_ him cruel -wrong, and but for you, you, Francis Dayrell, I’d never have sworn a -word to harm him. It’s driven me mad—mad! do you hear, Frank Dayrell? -Good-bye, till we meet in—in—the other place!’ - -“The firing was o’er, Dick Lawless now showed himself between the rock -and the clear space where lay the dead trooper and Dayrell. The -Inspector raised himself on one arm and with the last glimmer o’licht in -his glazing e’en, looked full in the woman’s face, as he drawled out the -words, ‘Au revoir! Kate, pleasant journey, inner circle of mine with the -left, eh?’ The light faded out of his eyes with the last word, and -falling back, he was dead when his head touched the ground. The woman -gazed for one moment on the still face; then in obedience to a sign from -her brother, walkit over to him, and, mounting their horses, they rode -away into the forest thegither. The police couldna but see they were -ootnummered. Their leader and one trooper dead; anither was badly -wounded. Four men—one barely able to sit on a horse—were no match for -six. - -“‘See here, men,’ said Bradfield, a tall, powerful native chiel wi’ a -black beard, a grand bushman, too; ‘this here battle’s over, you’re -euchred, your boss expected to catch us on the hop, and he’s been took -himself. He was a game chap, and we don’t owe him no grudge, nor you -either, though he went a bit out of his way in leavin’ his own district -to collar another officer’s game. He didn’t reckon on Ned and Dick -Lawless, and it’s them that knocked over his wicket. A fair fight’s -righto, but it don’t do even for a policeman to get hisself disliked.’ - -“‘I say, Jim, the horses are up; are yer goin’ to preach here till the -military’s called out?’ - -“‘All right, Jack, there’s no hurry. What’s to be done with the dead -men? There’s Inspector Dayrell, our poor cove, and Ned Lawless. We can’t -leave ’em here.’ - -“‘The police must pack their mates,’ said the second in command, ‘we’ll -take away ours. Where’s the nearest township, or graveyard, if it comes -to that?’ - -“‘We can make Warradombee in twenty mile’; here spoke one of the police -troopers. ‘It’s close to Grant’s head station.’ - -“‘All right, you’ve got your packers; strap on the Inspector, and that -Goulburn native, and let ’em be buried decent. We’re not black fellows. -We’ll carry our man, and bury him first chance. Ned must stay where he -is—he’s better there than under the gaol yard. Like as not Dick and -Kate’ll come back to him. They’ve not gone far. Well, you’d better load, -and clear—we’ll give you a lift, as you’re short handed. Don’t sing a -bigger song than you can help. Give us a day’s law, and then we don’t -care what you do. We haven’t acted so bad to you.’ - -“‘No, by George, you haven’t,’ said the senior constable, ‘except -killin’ the two of us, and you couldn’t help that, seein’ you was -fightin’ for your lives, as the sayin’ is.’ - -“So the enemies (as I’m tauld) helped to raise the fallen men, and -fasten them on their horses. It was a sad-looking troop, as they moved -off, with their dead legs tied underneath, and at the knees, to the -saddles, their heads bowed low on the horses’ necks, so that they -couldna fall off. But the upper bodies, with heids swaying aboot in that -dreadful guise, lookit awfu’ ghaistly. Little thocht Frank Dayrell that -he wad ride his last ride in siccan a fashion. But nane can foretell his -eend, nor the manner o’t. - -“Bradfield’s lot cleared without loss o’ time, carrying with them their -dead and wounded, until a convenient burial place was reached. This duty -completed, they separated, to meet in the ‘Never Never Country,’ between -Burke Town and ‘The Gulf,’ a ‘strange, vain land’ (as one has written) -where ‘night is even as the day,’ and the decalogue is no that sariously -regairded, as in longer settled communities. - -“Although the tither ootlaws wadna chairge themselves with Ned Lawless’ -funeral, it is no’ to be infaired that he was buried without a prayer, -or that tears werena shed o’er his lonely unhallowed grave. As had been -surmeesed, Kate and the younger brother returned after nightfall. - -“It was nearly midnight, the moonrays lighted up the weird shadows of -the ‘Ghost Camp,’ lately throbbing wi’ gunshots, oaths, cries and -exclamations. Blood had been shed; life had been taken; now all was -still and deserted looking. - -“Tribe had met tribe in the old, old days, and with spear-thrust, nulla -nulla and boomerang, had fought oot their conflicts, waged for pride, -ambition or revenge. And always to the bitter end! Then came the white -invader, with his iron axes, fine clothes and magical weapons, which -slew before they touched. The sheep and cattle, such delicate morsels -but which except a price was paid, too often that o’ bluid—they dared -na’ take. Battles then were fought in which their bravest warriors fell; -or if by chance they slew stockrider or shepherd, a sair harryin’ o’ the -tribe followed. - -“Those days were past; and now, how strange to the elders of the tribe, -the white strangers fought amang themselves, wounding, killing, and -carrying away captive their brithers in colour and speech. These things -were hard to understand. The rays of the lately risen moon lit up the -sombre glades of the battlefield as a man and woman rode in frae the -forest track, and tied up their horses. They came to the rock where the -dead man lay. He had fallen back when Dayrell’s bullet pierced his -brain, and was lying with upturned face and dreadful staring eyes. The -woman knelt by his side, and while she closed them, said, ‘Poor old Ned! -I never thought to lay you out in a place like this. God’s curse on them -that drove you to it; but _he’s_ gone that we have to thank for our -ruin; that debt’s paid, anyhow! You were always a soft-hearted chap, and -none of us, when we were little, had a hard time with you. Not like some -brothers, who’d knock about the poor kiddies as if they were dingo -pups.’ - -“‘I’ve nothing to say agen him,’ said the man, ‘he was always good to -me, I’d ’a done anything for him. It’s hard to see him here lying dead, -and with that infernal prison crop, not even a beard on his face, and -what a jolly one he used to have. Here’s where the irons hurt him; I -expect he tried to break out afore, and they made him work in these.’ - -“‘My God!’ cried the woman, passionately; ‘don’t talk of it any more. I -shall scream out directly, and go more off my head than I am now, and -that’s bad enough. To think of him that used to come out of a morning so -fresh and jolly, well dressed, and always with a good horse under him, -and couldn’t he ride? And now to see him lying here, starved and -miserable, like a beggar; it’s enough to break a heart of stone—’ - -“‘It’s too late now, Kate, too late; but we’d better have taken Tessie’s -warning and started a square trade, carrying or something, when the -digging broke out,’ said the man. ‘We were all strong and full of go. I -could do a man’s work, young as I was; the money would have run into our -pockets—yes, regular run in—if we’d made a square start and stuck to it. -Look at Benson and Warner, see where they are now! They couldn’t read -and write neither, no more than us. Then there was that infernal Larry -Trevenna. Poor Lance! I _was_ sorry for him. They did us all the harm in -the world; Larry with his gambling ways, and Lance setting you up to -think you were good enough to marry him, and putting Dayrell’s back up -agen the family. Our luck was dead out from start to finish, and now -they’re all gone except you and me. I’d better set about the grave.’ - -“‘Where’d ye get the pick and shovel?’ - -“‘Some fossicker left them outside his camp. I saw them when I went to -the spring for a drink.’ - -“‘For God’s sake take them back, no use making more enemies than we can -help. There’ll be a row if he misses ’em!’ - -“‘All right! I’ll drop them as we pass,’ said her brother, as he drove -the pick into the hard, stony soil. - -“The woman took the short mining shovel, and with feverish energy -cleared the narrow shaft as often as required. An hour’s work showed a -cavity of the necessary width and depth, wherein the brother and sister -laid the wasted body of the eldest son of the family—once its pride as -the best horseman, shearer, reaper, cricketer, stockrider, and all-round -athlete of the highland district of New South Wales. The pity of it, -when misdirected energies hurry the men along the fiend’s highway, -leading to a felon’s doom, a dishonoured grave! - -“The pity of it! The man now lowered into the rude sepulchre, amid that -ill-omened, blood-stained wild, might, under happier circumstances, and -at a later day, have been receiving the plaudits of his countrymen, the -thanks of his Sovereign, as the fearless, resourceful scout, whose -watchful eye had saved a squadron, or whose stubborn courage had helped -to block an advance until the reinforcement came up. - -“It was not to be. Sadly and silently, but for the exclamation of ‘Poor -Ned! good-bye! God have mercy on your soul!’ from the woman, the brother -and sister rode away into the night. - -“A rude cross had been fashioned and placed in a cairn of stones piled -upon the grave. ‘The moonbeam strook, and deepest night fell down upon -the heath’ as the hoofstrokes died away in the distance, deepening the -sombre solitude of the spot, which had long worn the appearance of a -place accursed of God and man!” - - -The far back, and by no means busy township of Dumbool was, if not -enlivened, aroused from its normal apathy (when a race meeting, or a -shearer’s carouse was not in full operation), by the return of a party -of mounted police. The leading inhabitants, always well informed in such -matters, had received notice of them passing through the district, -heading towards the border. The township was not so insignificant or the -two hotels so unimportant, as not to provide “Our Own Correspondent” of -the _Weekly Newsletter_. This gentleman, who was Rabbit Inspector, -Acting Clerk of the Bench, Coroner, and Honorary Magistrate, held all -the minor appointments, not incompatible with the ends of justice, and -the dignity of the Post Office, of which he was the present acting head, -the Government Official of the branch being away on leave. He performed -these various duties fairly well, delegating the Postal work to the -leading storekeeper, and the Bench work to a neighbouring squatter, who, -coached by the senior constable, was capable of getting through a -committal without blundering. But the work of Special Correspondent was -the one which he really enjoyed, and on which he chiefly prided himself. - -He had often murmured at the poverty of the journalistic resources of -his surroundings, which afforded no field for literary ability. Even -when Nature seemed kindly disposed, by reason of abnormal conditions, he -was restricted in efforts to improve the occasion by the vigorously -expressed local censorship of the pastoralists. Did he draw a harrowing -picture of the stricken waste, denuded of pasture, and strewn with dead -and dying flocks, and herds, every one was “down on him,” as he -expressed it, for taking away the character of the district. Did he -dilate on the vast prairies waving with luxuriant herbage, after a -phenomenal rainfall, he was abused as “inviting every blooming -free-selector in the colony to come out and make a chess-board of their -runs, directly they had a little grass.” There was no pleasing them. -Even the editor of the _Weekly Clarion_, mindful of influential -subscribers, had admonished him to be careful in good seasons, as well -as bad. - -He was at his wits’ end, between the agricultural Scylla, and the -pastoral Charybdis, so to speak. It may be imagined with what gratitude -he hailed the “Tragedy of Ghost Camp,” as his headline described it, in -which he was likely to offend nobody excepting the Police Department, -for whose feelings his public had no great consideration. - - -Extract from the _Weekly Newsletter and Down River Advertiser_. - -“It is long since the site of this celebrated locality, once notorious -for tribal fights, and dark deeds of revenge, not always stopping at -cold-blooded murder, if old tales be true, has resounded with the echo -of rifle shots, the oaths of the victors, the groans of the dying! Yet -such has lately been the case. But a few days since a deed of blood, of -long-delayed vengeance, has been enacted, recalling the more lurid -incidents of pioneer days. - -“We had received information of the passing of Inspector Francis -Dayrell, with a party of picked troopers, on a back track, running -parallel to our main stock route. They carried a light camp equipment, -not halting at stations or townships and apparently desirous to avoid -observation. We have in another place expressed our disapproval of this -practice, holding that the ends of justice are better served by -forwarding information to the local press. Had that been done in the -present case, the fatal finale might have been averted. - -“Be that as it may, the _cortège_ that was descried approaching our -principal street at an early hour this morning, presented a very -different appearance from that of the well-accoutred police party that -our informant noticed but two days earlier heading for the broken -mountainous country at the head of the Wandong Creek. The troopers -detailed for this dangerous service were led by that well-known, and, we -may say, dreaded police officer, the late Inspector Francis Dayrell, the -greatest daredevil, the most determined officer of the Victorian Mounted -Police. - -“It was quickly noted by a sharp-eyed bushman, in the neighbourhood of -Host Parley’s well-kept and commodious hotel, which commands the -approach to our township from the north-east, that something was wrong -with the body of police now approaching the town at a funeral pace. - -“The trooper who rode in front led Inspector Dayrell’s well-known -charger, a matchless hackney, perfect in the _manège_ in which all troop -horses are trained. The inspector was badly wounded and nearly -insensible, from the manner in which he bowed himself on the horse’s -neck, while he swayed helplessly in the saddle. The second trooper also -led a horse on which was a wounded man. Behind rode two men, one -evidently so badly hurt, that he sat his horse with difficulty. - -“‘They’ve been cut up bad,’ said one of the bushmen. ‘Let’s ride up and -meet ’em, Jack!’ Two men waiting for the mail mounted their horses, and -met the little party; from which, after a word or two with the Sergeant, -they came back full speed to the hotel, and thus imparted the melancholy -news. - -“‘Police had a brush with Bradfield’s gang from Queensland, as they -thought they were going to take. Some other chaps had joined them along -with Dick Lawless, and double-banked ’em. Dayrell’s killed, and a -trooper—they’re the two first; Doolan’s wounded bad. The Sergeant wants -a room to put the dead men in till the Coroner’s inquest’s held; he’ll -have ’em buried as soon as it’s over.’ - -“Great excitement was naturally evoked by this statement. - -“In a few minutes the police arrived at the Hotel, where they were met -by Mr. Clarkson, J.P., who obligingly undertook all necessary -arrangements. The Inspector and the dead trooper were laid side by side -in the best bedroom, the landlord resenting a suggestion to place the -corpses in an outhouse—‘He’d have had the best room in the house if he -was alive. He always paid like a prince, and I’m not going to treat him -disrespectful now he’s been killed in the discharge of his duty. Them as -don’t care about sleeping there after him and poor Mick Donnelly, may go -somewheres else. They’ll be buried decent from _my_ house, anyway.’ - -“The Coroner impanelled a jury without unnecessary delay; and after the -Sergeant and his men had necessary rest and refreshment, that official -elicited evidence which enabled him to record a verdict of ‘Wilful -murder against Edward James Bradfield and Richard Lawless in the cases -of Inspector Francis Dayrell of the Victorian Mounted Police Force, and -trooper Michael Joseph Donnelly, then and there lying dead.’ This -formality concluded, preparations were made for the funeral to take -place next morning in the graveyard appertaining to the township, which -already held a number of occupants, large in proportion to the -population. - -“Word had been sent to the neighbouring stations, so that by noon—the -hour appointed—nearly as large a concourse as at the annual race meeting -had assembled. There being no resident clergyman, the service was read -over both men by the Coroner, who, by the way in which he performed the -duty, showed that he was not new to this sad ceremony. We have -repeatedly urged upon the Government the necessity of providing -increased police protection for this important and scantily defended -district. May we trust now that local wants will be more promptly -attended to. - -“The last offices being paid to the dead the surviving troopers rode -slowly away leading the spare horses, and bearing the arms and effects -of their comrades with them. - -“Kate Lawless and her brother had disappeared. Whether they had made for -the farthest out settled districts of Queensland, or had found a hiding -place nearer home, was not known, though rumours to either effect gained -circulation.” - - -“And noo ye hae the haill history o’ Frank Dayrell, late Inspector o’ -the Mounted Police Force o’ Victoria, no forgetting the death of Ned -Lawless, who died by his hand. - -“And, as the sun’s low, and we’ve, I winna say wasted the -afternoon—maybe expended wad be a mair wise-like expression—I’ll just -say good e’en to you, gentlemen, and gae me ways hame. The nicht’s for -frost, I’m thinkin’,” and so saying, the worthy Sergeant declining -further refreshment marched off along the meadow. - - * * * * * - -An early breakfast next morning, in fact, before the frost was off the -ground, awaited Mr. Blount. In some inns it would have been a -comfortless repast; a half-lighted fire struggling against a pile of -damp wood, and producing more smoke than heat; a grumbling man cook, not -too clean of aspect, who required to know “why the blank people wanted -their grub cooked by candlelight,” and so on—“he’d see ’em blanked -first, if there was any more of this bloomin’ rot.” Such reflections the -guest has been favoured with, in the “good old days,” before the gold -had settled down to a reasonable basis of supply and demand, and the -labour question—as it did subsequently—had regulated itself. Waiting, -too, for half an hour longer than was necessary for your hackney to eat -his oats. - -Far otherwise was the bounteous, well-served repast which sent forth -Blount in fit order and condition to do his journey creditably, or to -perform any feats of endurance which the day’s work might exact. - -Sheila had been up and about long before daylight. She had consulted the -favoured guest through his chamber door, as to which of the appetising -list of viands he would prefer, and when the adventurous knight sallied -forth in full war paint, he found a good fire and a tempting meal -awaiting him. - -“I tell you what, Sheila,” he said, regarding that praiseworthy maiden -with an approving smile, “this is all very fine and you ought to get a -prize at the next Agricultural Show, for turning out such a breakfast, -but how am I to face burnt steak and sodden damper at the diggers’ camp -to-morrow morning?” - -The girl looked at him earnestly for a moment or two without speaking, -and then with an air of half warning, half disapproval, said, “Well—if -you ask me, sir, the cooking’s not the worst of it in those sort of -places, and I can’t see for my part why a gentleman like you wants going -there at all. They’re very queer people at the head of the river, and -they do say that the less you have to do with them the better.” - -“But I suppose there _are_ all sorts of queer characters in this new -country of yours. I didn’t come from England to lead a feather-bed life. -I’ve made up my mind to see the bush, the goldfields, and all the wild -life I could come across, and I suppose Mr. Little-River-Jack is about -the cleverest guide I could have.” - -“Well—ye—es! he’s _clever_ enough, but there _are_ yarns about him. I -don’t like to tell all I’ve heard, because, of course, it mightn’t be -true. Still, if I were you, sir, I’d keep a sharp look out, and if you -spotted anything that didn’t look square, make some excuse and clear.” - -“But, my dear girl, what _is_ there to watch? Do he and his friends -steal cattle or rob miners of their gold? Any highway business? Why -can’t you speak out? I see you’re anxious lest I should get into a -scrape; on account of my innocence, isn’t that it? And very kind of you -it is. I won’t forget it, I promise you.” - -“I can’t say any more,” said the girl, evidently confused. “But be a bit -careful, for God’s sake, and don’t take all you’re told for gospel;” -after which deliverance she left the room abruptly and did not appear -when Mr. Blount and his guide, both mounted, were moving off. They were -in high spirits, and the cob dancing with eagerness to get away. As they -left the main road at an angle, Blount looked back to the hotel towards -a window from which the girl was looking out. Her features wore a grave -and anxious expression, and she shook her head with an air, as it seemed -to him, of disapproval. - -This byplay was unobserved by his companion, who was apparently -scrutinising with concentrated attention the track on which he had -turned. - -Throwing off all misgivings, and exhilarated by the loveliness of the -weather, which in that locality always succeeds a night of frost, he -gave himself up to an unaffected admiration of the woodland scene. The -sun now nearly an hour high had dispelled the mists, which lay upon the -river meadows, and brought down in glittering drops the frost jewels -sparkling on every bush and branch. - -The sky of brightest blue was absolutely cloudless, the air keen and -bracing; wonderfully dry and stimulating. The grass waved amid their -horses’ feet. The forest, entirely composed of evergreens, from the -tallest eucalypt, a hundred feet to the first branch, to the low-growing -banksia, though partly sombre, was yet relieved by an occasional -cypress, or sterentia. The view was grand, and apparently illimitable, -from the high tableland which they soon reached. Range after range of -snow-clad mountains reared their vast forms to the eastward, while -beyond them again came into view a new and complete mountain world, in -which companies of snow peaks and the shoulders of yet loftier tiers of -mountains were distinctly, if faintly, visible. What passes, what -fastnesses, what well-nigh undiscoverable hiding-places, Blount thought, -might not be available amid these highlands for refugees from -justice—for the transaction of secret or illegal practices! - -He was aroused from such a reverie by the cheery voice of his companion, -who evidently was not minded to enjoy the beauty of the morning, or the -mysterious expanse of the landscape in silence. “Great country this, Mr. -Blount!” he exclaimed, with patronising appreciation. “Pity we haven’t a -few more men and women to the square mile. There’s work and payin’ -occupation within sight”—here he waved his hand—“for a hundred years to -come, if it was stocked the right way. Good soil, regular rainfall, -timber, water no end, a bit coldish in winter; but look at Scotland, and -see the men and women it turns out! I’d like to be Governor for ten -years. What a place I’d make of it!” - -“And what’s the reason you people of Australia, natives of the soil, and -so on, can’t do it for yourselves, without nobles, King or Kaiser—you’ve -none of _them_ to blame?” - -“Haven’t we? We’ve too many by a dashed sight, and that’s the reason we -can’t get on. They call them Members of Parliament here, and they do -nothing but talk, talk, talk.” - -“Oh! I see; but they’re elected by the people, for the people, and so -on. The people—you and your friends, that is—must have been fools to -elect them. Isn’t that so?” - -“Of course it is. And this is how it comes; there’s always a lot of -fellers that like talking better than work. They palaver the real -workers, who do all the graft, and carry the load, and once they’re in -Parliament and get their six pound a week it’s good-bye to honest work -for the rest of their lives. It’s a deal easier to reel out any kind of -rot by the yard than it is to make boots and shoes, or do carpentering, -or blacksmith’s work.” - -“H—m! should say it was. Never tried either myself; but when they get -into Parliament don’t they do anything?” - -“Well, in a sort of way, but they’re dashed slow about it. Half the -time, every law has to be altered and patched and undone again. They’re -in no hurry, bless you!—they’re not paid by the job; so the longer they -are about it the more pay and ‘exes’ they rake in.” - -“What’s wrong with the law about this particular neighbourhood?” - -“Well, they’re allowed to take up too much land for one thing. I -wouldn’t give more than a hundred acres, if I had my way, to any -selector,” said this vigorous reformer. “The soil’s rich, the rainfall’s -certain, and the water-supply’s everlastin’. What’s wanted is labour—men -and women, that means. It’ll grow anything, and if they’d keep to fruit, -root crops, and artificial grasses, they could smother theirselves with -produce in a year or two. Irrigate besides. See that race? You can lead -water anywhere you like in this district.” - -“Well, why don’t they? One would think they could see the profit in it. -Here it is, under their feet.” - -“It’s this way; a man with a couple of thousand acres can keep a flock -of sheep. They don’t do extra well, but they grow a fleece once a year, -and when wool’s a decent price the family can live on it—with the help -of poultry, eggs and bacon, and chops now and then. It’s a poor life, -and only just keeps them—hand to mouth, as it were.” - -“Still, they’re independent.” - -“Oh! independent enough—the ragged girls won’t go out to service. The -boys loaf about on horseback and smoke half the time. If they had only a -hundred acres or so, they couldn’t pretend to be squatters. The men -would dig more and plough more, the greater part of the area would be -cultivated, they could feed their cows in winter (which _is_ long and -cold in these parts), fatten pigs, have an orchard (look at the -apple-trees at the last place we passed), do themselves real well, and -have money in the bank as well.” - -“We must have a republic, and make you first Dictator, I see that. Now, -where does this tremendous ravine lead to?” - -“It leads through Wild Horse Gully, down to the Dark River—we’d better -get off and walk the next mile or two—there’s a big climb further on.” - -“I shouldn’t wonder,” said the traveller. “How wild horses or any other -travel about here, astonishes me. Where do they come from? There were -none in Australia when the first people came, I suppose?” - -“Not a hoof. They’ve all been bred up from the stray horses that got -away from the stations, long ago. They’re in thousands among these -mountains. It takes the squatters at the heads of the rivers all their -time to keep them under.” - -“Do they do much harm?” - -“Well, yes, a lot. They eat too much grass for one thing, and spoil more -than they eat, galloping about. Then they run off the station horses, -especially the mares. Once they join the wild mob, they’re never seen -again. Get shot by mistake, too, now and again.” - -“Why! do they shoot horses here?” - -“Shoot ’em, of course! The hides and hair fetch a fairish price. Some -men live by it. They make trap yards, and get as many as a hundred at a -time. The squatters shoot them now and again, and pay men to do it.” - -“It seems a pity. A horse is a fine animal, wild or tame, but I suppose -they can’t be allowed to over-run the country.” - -The Wild Horse Gully, down which they were proceeding at a slow and -cautious pace, was a tortuous and narrow pathway, hemmed in by rugged -precipitous mountain sides. From its nature it was impracticable for -wheeled vehicles, but the tracks of horses and cattle were recent and -deeply indented. These his companion scrutinised with more than ordinary -care. The horse tracks were in nearly all instances those of unshod -animals, but as he pointed out, there were two sets of recent imprints -on the damp red loam, of which the sharp edges and nail heads told of -the blacksmith’s shop as plainly as if a printed notice had been nailed -to one of the adjacent tree trunks; also that a dozen heavy cattle had -gone along in front of them at rather a fast pace. These last had come -in on a side track, their sliding trail down the face of the mountain -showing plainly how they had arrived, and, as nearly as possible, to the -experienced eye of one horseman, at what hour. - -The day had been tedious, even monotonous, the pace necessarily slow; -the chill air of evening was beginning to be felt, when the bushman, -with a sigh of relief, pointed to a thin wreath of smoke. On an open, -half-cleared spot, a hut built of horizontal logs was dimly visible; a -narrow eager streamlet ran close to the rude dwelling, while at their -approach a pair of cattle dogs began to bark as they walked in a -menacing manner towards the intruders. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - -“DOWN, Jerry! Down, Driver!” said the bushman, “that’ll do, you’re -making row enough to frighten all the cattle in the country.” By this -time the guardians of the outpost had left off their clamour, and one of -them, by jumping up and fawning on Blount, showed that he had gained -their friendship. The older dog, not so demonstrative, had stains of -blood on his mouth and chest. “Ha! Driver, you old villain, been behind -those cattle yesterday? Now lie down, and let’s see if we can raise a -fire and get some tea under weigh, before the boys come in.” - -After unsaddling, and turning out their horses, they entered the hut, -which, though not differing materially from the bush structures which -Blount had already visited, was seen to be neater than usual in the -internal arrangements. “Little-River-Jack” proceeded at once to -business. By lighting twigs from a store of brush-wood, laid ready for -such an emergency, and adding another to the smouldering logs at the -back of the huge chimney he secured a cheerful blaze, calculated to warm -through his shivering companion, and to provide him speedily with the -comforting, universal beverage. Opening a rude locker, he took from it a -tin dish containing corned beef and “damper,” also a couple of tin -plates with knives and forks of democratic appearance, and a butcher’s -knife which did duty for a carver. - -“You see your dinner, Mr. Blount,” said he. “I daresay you’ve got an -appetite this cold day; I know I have. Help yourself, the billy’s -boiling, I’ll put in the tea.” Suiting the action to the word, he took a -handful of tea out of a bag hanging by a nail in the wall, and placing a -pannikin of sugar on the table, invited his guest to help himself and -fall to. - -“It’s not quite up to the breakfast we had this morning,” he said; “but -I’ve had worse many a time; tucker like this will carry a man a long way -when he’s on the road or at regular work.” - -This statement, more or less correct, was confirmed by the performance -of both wayfarers, Mr. Blount plying a remarkably good knife and fork, -besides disposing of a wedge of damper, and washing the whole down with -a couple of pints of hot tea. - -The fire was by this time in steady glow. Stretching his legs before it, -and indulging in a luxurious smoke, the tourist expressed his opinion -that he had known more artistic cookery, but had never enjoyed a meal -more. - -Mr. John Carter, the while, had washed and replaced the plates and -pannikins; also rearranged the beef and bread with a deftness telling of -previous experience. This duty concluded, they awaited the return of the -gold-diggers. - -“They don’t come in while there’s light to work by,” he explained; “the -days are that short now, that unless you’re at it early and late there -ain’t much to show for it.” - -The twilight had faded into all but complete darkness when the dogs -growled in a non-committal way, as though merely to indicate human -approach without resenting it. “It’s my pals comin’,” the bushman -observed; and, closely following the words, footsteps were heard, and a -big, bearded, roughly-dressed man entered the hut. “Hullo! Jack, you’re -here, and this is the gentleman from England,” he continued, fixing a -bold, penetrating glance upon Blount. “Glad to see you, sir! This is a -rough shop; but we’ve got fair tucker, and firewood’s plenty. We’ll soon -show you the ins and outs of gold-digging, if that’s what you want to -see. Jack got you a feed, I expect; fill up the billy, old man, while we -get a wash.” - -Seizing a handful of rough towels, and a bag which hung near the head of -the bunk in the corner to the right of the speaker, he went out into the -night; while certain splashing noises told that face and hands’ cleaning -was in progress. - -Little more than ten minutes had elapsed, when the speaker, accompanied -by three other men, re-entered the hut, and after an informal mention of -names to the stranger, sat down to the table, where they went to work at -the beef and damper, with strict attention to business. Mr. Blount had -an opportunity while they were thus engaged of a complete inspection. -Though roughly dressed, there was nothing unpleasing to the educated eye -about their appearance. - -They wore red or blue woollen shirts, rough tweed or moleskin trousers, -and heavy miners’ boots. All had beards more or less trimmed, and wore -their hair rather short than long. - -Three of the party were tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular; the fourth -was middle-sized, slight and active-looking. He wore only a fair -moustache, and seemed younger than the others. Commencing to make -conversation at once, he was evidently regarded as the wit of the party. - -“So you’re back again, Jack, old man!” he said, addressing the guide -with a half-humorous, half-cynical expression. “Goin’ to and fro on the -earth, seekin’ what you might—well, not devour exactly, but pick up in a -free and easy, genteel sort o’ way, like the old chap we used to be so -frightened of when we were kiddies. Don’t hear so much about him now, do -we? Wonder why? He ain’t dead, or played out, what d’ye make of it?” - -“You seem to take a lot of interest in him, Dick,” said the guide. “Been -readin’ sermons, or beginnin’ to think o’ your latter end? Lots of time -for that.” - -“Well, not so much that way, but I’m seriously thinkin’ o’ clearin’ out -o’ this part o’ the country and tryin’ another colony. It’s too dashed -cold and wet here. I’m afraid of my precious health. I hear great talks -of this West Australian side—Coolgardie, or something like that—where it -never rains, hardly, and they’re getting gold in buckets’ full.” - -“You’re doin’ middlin’ well here, Dick,” said one of the other men in a -dissuasive tone of voice. “The lead’s sure to widen out as it gets -deeper and junctions with the Lady Caroline. Why don’t you have -patience, and see it out?” - -“Well, haven’t I been waitin’ and waitin’, and now I’m full up; made up -my mind to sell out. If any one here will give me twenty notes for my -fourth share of the claim after this divide, I’m up to take it.” - -“I’ll buy it,” said Mr. Blount impulsively. “I should like to have a -turn at real mining, and this seems a fair chance.” - -“Done with you, sir; we can write out an agreement here now. You’ll have -a fourth share in the hut and tools, won’t he, mates?” - -The men nodded assent. “Going cheap, Jack, isn’t it?” - -“Dirt cheap, and no mistake. Mr. Blount never made a better bargain. -I’ll cash his cheque on Melbourne, so you can clear to-morrow, Dick, -though I think you’re a fool for your pains. We’ll witness the agreement -here, and he can hold your miner’s right till he gets a transfer from -the Registrar at Bunjil.” - -This transaction, concluded with ease and celerity, seemed to meet with -general approbation. Mr. Blount was charmed with his business insight, -which had enabled him to seize upon an opportunity of joining a “bona -fide going concern” in regular work. - -“How’s the ‘Lady Julia’ been behaving lately?” inquired Jack Carter. - -“Well, here’s the fortnight’s clean up, close on twelve ounces, I should -say. Might be better, but it’s more than tucker, three ounces a man, say -£40 for two weeks’ work. The month before it was £60, and of course, -there’s a chance of a nugget, or a make in the lead, any day!” - -“A nugget’s a lump of gold, isn’t it? What size are they?” queried the -new partner. - -“Any size from a pound to a hundredweight. A Chinaman turned up one -worth £230 just after we came, at Back Creek,” answered the big miner; -“in old ground, too. Of course, they’re not everyday finds. But there’s -always a chance. That’s what makes digging so jolly excitin’, a party -can always keep themselves if they work steady, and then there’s the -off-chance of a big slice of luck comin’ their way.” - -“I should think it did,”, assented the stranger, heartily. “A free life, -perfect independence, healthy occupation. It will suit me down to the -ground.” - -“Early to bed and early to rise is another of the advantages given in -with the honest miner’s business,” said the young man called Dick. “A -feller’s so jolly tired if he’s been amusin’ himself with a pick and -shovel all day, or even the cradle, that by the time he’s had tea, and a -smoke, he’s glad to get to his bunk for fear he should go to sleep, like -a trooper’s horse, all standin’. So Mr. Blount had better collar my -bunk, which I hereby make over to him, along with my share of the ‘Lady -Julia’ claim and tools, cradle, and one-fourth interest in the perlatial -residence, as the auctioneers say. I’ll doss near the fire along with -Jack. Mr. Blount’s got his own blankets, so that’ll be all right.” - -Suiting the action to the word, Dick dragged his blankets and a few -articles of attire from the bunk indicated, including a weather-worn -leather valise into which he stuffed the smaller matters. - -Arranging his blankets near the fire, he made a pillow of the valise, -and removing his boots and coat, lit his pipe, and lay down on the -earthen floor, pulling the blankets over him, and apparently quite -prepared for a sound night’s rest. “Good-night all!” were his parting -words. - -“I’ll say good-night, too,” said Little-River-Jack, undoing the swag, -which he had carried in the front of his saddle during the day’s -journey, and which seemed chiefly composed of a pair of serviceable blue -blankets. “Dick and I’ll take the claim by the chimney. I’ll put on a -back log, to keep us all warm, and do to boil the billy to-morrow -morning. So I’ll say good-night, Mr. Blount, and wish you luck now, as -I’ll be off before daylight. I’d not get up, if I was you, it’s -shivering cold till the sun’s up.” - -The three men who were now Mr. Blount’s “mates” (or partners) in the -claim lost no time in depositing themselves in their separate sleeping -places, removing only the more necessary articles of clothing. - -Mr. Blount sat before the fire for half an hour, lost in thought, before -arraying himself in a suit of pyjamas, which would have excited the -admiration of his companions had they been awake. Their regular -breathing, however, denoted that such was not the case, and he, too, -after a decent interval, abandoned his unwonted environment for the land -of mystery and enchantment which men call sleep. - -Next morning the clatter of tin plates, and other accompaniments, upon -the literal “board” which stood for the table and all appurtenances, -aroused the new partner from a profound slumber. - -The dim light of a cloudy dawn was struggling with the smoky flame of a -tallow lamp of rude shape. The “billy” full of hot tea had just been -placed upon the table by the acting cook, who had previously disposed a -tin dish containing fried beef steaks beside it. - -Snatching up his towel and sponge bag, the stranger made a rush for the -creek bank, where a rude stage permitted him to indulge in a copious -sluicing of his head, neck and shoulders. - -Ice-cold as was the water, he achieved a glow after a vigorous -application of his rough towel, and dressing in haste, was able to -dispose of his share of the meal more or less creditably. - -With more consideration than might have been expected, the dish of -steaks had been put down by the fire and kept warm in his absence. - -“I shall not over-sleep myself another morning,” he said, -apologetically, “but I suppose the long day _did_ tire me a bit. It was -awfully slow too, stumbling over those rocky tracks. I shall be in -better trim shortly.” - -“Expect you will,” said the big digger, “a man’s always soft for the -first week, specially if he hasn’t been used to the life. We’ll start -for the claim, soon’s you’re through with breakfast; Jack and Dick’s off -hours ago. There were cattle to take back, left here for the butcher.” -He now remembered as in a dream having heard a dog bark, and a whip -crack, in the middle of the night, as it seemed to him. - -“Early birds,” he remarked sententiously; after which, finishing his -second pannikin of tea, he expressed himself as ready for the road. - -The mists were clearing from the mountain-side, which lay dark and -frowning between the little party and the East, but ere long the curving -shoulders of the range became irradiated. A roseate glow suffused the -pale snow crown, transmuting it gradually into a jewelled coronet, while -the mountain flanks became slowly illumined, exhibiting the verdant -foot-hills, in clear contrast with the sombre, illimitable forest. As -the sun’s disc became fully apparent, all Nature seemed to greet with -gladness the triumph of the Day-god. The birds chirped and called in the -dense underwoods through which the narrow path wound. - -Flights of water-fowl high overhead winged their way to distant plains -and a milder air. A rock kangaroo, cleared the streamlet with a bound -and fled up the hillside like a mountain hare. A cloud of cockatoos -flitted ghost-like across the tree-tops, betraying by an occasional -harsh cry the fact that a sense of harmony had been omitted, when their -delicately white robes were apportioned to them. As the sun gained power -and brilliancy, Mr. Blount found the path easy to follow and his spirits -began to rise. - -“How far to the claim?” he asked. - -One of the miners pointed to a hillock of yellow and red earth by the -side of which a rude stage had been erected, and a rope wound around, -from which depended a raw hide bucket. - -Moving up, he was aware of a shaft sunk to a depth of fifty or sixty -feet; from appearances, the precious metal had been extracted by rude -appliances on the bank of the creek, still running briskly through the -little flat. - -“I’m the captain of this claim,” said the big miner, “elected by a -majority of the shareholders, so, till I’m turned out, I’ll have all the -say.” The other diggers nodded. “You’re new to the game, mister, so I’ll -give you the easiest show to begin with. Later on, you can tackle the -pick and shovel. We three go below, one at a time, you see how it’s -done, and be middlin’ careful: there’s a man’s life on the rope every -time, and if you let the windlass run away with you, out he goes! Next -man in.” - -Sitting down on the “brace,” the miner took hold of the hide rope above -his head with both hands, while one of the others at the windlass began -to lower him slowly down, a short strong piece of pointed timber, -referred to as the “sprag,” being inserted into the roller, through -which the hide rope ran, in order to check its velocity, and give the -man at the windlass control. - -Blount looking down, saw him gradually descend, until the bottom of the -shaft was reached. The second man was lowered. When the third with his -foot in a bight of the rope prepared to descend, he felt a little -nervous, which the miner was quick to observe. “Don’t be afraid of -killin’ me, mate! just hold on to the windlass-handle like grim death. -It’ll come easy after a bit.” He laughed as he commenced to descend, -saying, “When you hear this tin arrangement clap together, it means -‘haul away.’” - -Mr. Blount was most careful, and finding that he could manage the -windlass easily, with the help of the “sprag” aforesaid, became more -confident. The next excitement was when the clapper sounded, and he -began to haul up. But the weight below seemed to be too great. The rope -refused to draw up the bucket. Then he noticed that the “sprag” was -still in the roller. - -Smiling at his mistake he took it out, and immediately began to haul up. -Though a good pull it was not a difficult task for an athletic young -man, in high health and spirits. So he bent his back to the work, and -presently the hide bucket, filled with yellow and red clay, came to the -surface; this he drew on one side, and tilted over on to the “tip” or -“mullock” heap, having to that extent been instructed. Lowering it again -he continued the somewhat monotonous work, without cessation, till noon, -when a double note on the clapper warned him that his mates desired to -revisit upper air. This ascent accomplished safely, the billy was -boiled, and dinner, so called, notwithstanding the early hour, was -disposed of. - -“My word! you’re gettin’ on fine, mate,” said the big miner, “and that -reminds me, what are we to call you? You needn’t trouble about your real -name, if you want to keep it dark. Many a good man’s had to do that -hereabouts. Anyway, on a goldfield it’s no one’s business but the -owner’s, but we must call you somethin’!” - -“Call me Jack Blunt. It’s near enough for the present.” - -“All right, Blunt; now you’re christened,” said the big miner. “Phelim -O’Hara’s mine, and these other chaps are my brother Pat and George -Dixon; we’re all natives, only as he’s Lancashire by blood we call him -‘Lanky’ for short; we may’s well go down now, and you can do a bit of -pick and shovel work for a change.” - -Mr. Blount considered it to be a change in the fullest sense of the word -when he found himself dangling between earth and sky, with his leg in -the loop of a rope, having a great inclination to turn round and round, -which he combated by thrusting his leg against the side of the shaft. He -realised a feeling akin to that of being lowered over a cliff, which he -had read of in boyhood, reflecting, too, that he had no more _real_ -security than a man in that embarrassing position. Still the narrow -shaft had an appearance of safety, which in his case prevented vertigo. -The pick and shovel work was not hard to comprehend. He did his best, -though easily outpaced by his mates. - -In a week’s time he found himself quite _au fait_ at the work, while -improving daily in wind and muscle. “Capital training for a boat-race,” -he said, “only there’s no water hereabouts, except this little brook, -but we don’t seem to be getting rich very fast, do we, George?” - -George was sententious. He had been a navvy. The best worker of the -party, he was slow of speech, and disinclined to argue on abstract -matters. - -“Forty or fifty pound a fortnight for four of us ain’t so bad,” he -growled out. - -Not only was Mr. Blount himself becoming accustomed to this unfamiliar -mode of life, but his cob, though he did not take kindly to the -mountaineering work, as we have seen, became familiarised to being -turned out with the claim horses and foregathered with them amicably. -However, one afternoon, when they were brought in for a ride, as it was -too wet to work, the cob, now fat and frolicsome, was reported missing. - -His master was much annoyed and alarmed at this state of affairs. -However, Phelim O’Hara volunteered to stay at home, and moreover to lend -him his horse on which to search for the defaulter. Mr. Blount eagerly -accepted the offer, and lost no time in going off to hunt for “John -Gilpin” as the cob was facetiously named. Unlike a bushman, he rode -hither and thither, not troubling himself about tracks, or keeping a -course in any given direction. - -The consequence was that towards nightfall he found himself several -miles from camp, or indeed any landmark which he had passed in the early -part of the day. He was, however, sensible enough to follow a creek, -which eventually led him to the river; between which and the hilly -country he had been traversing, he saw a piece of level country on which -several wild horses were grazing. - -He was attracted by the appearance of a handsome grey stallion, who -appeared to be the leader and, so to speak, commander of the “manada,” -around which he trotted or galloped, driving in the mares and colts, and -indeed, with open mouth and threatening heels, forcing them to keep -within bounds. - -Suddenly there was the sound of a rifle shot from the side of the forest -nearest to the troop. The leader gave a sudden bound forward, then -dropped on his haunches. He made several unavailing attempts to rise. - -Struck in the region of the spine, he was evidently paralysed. He reared -himself on his fore-legs but was unable to move forward, more than once -neighing piteously. The mares and foals had fled like a herd of deer at -the sound of the gun, but following the habit of these steeds of the -mountain parks, though “wild as the wild deer, and untamed,” came -timidly back, and stood near their lord and master. As the hinds and -fawns are unwilling to leave the death-stricken stag, so these -descendants of man’s noblest servant refused to quit the spot where the -monarch of their kingdom lies wounded to the death. They circled around -him until another shot from the invisible marksman pealed forth, and a -fine black mare, with a young foal, dropped dead near the wounded sire. - -They scattered afresh at this new stroke of fate; Mr. Blount wondering -much whether they would return. But the grey whinnied from time to time, -making frantic efforts to reach the dead mare—all vainly. He swung round -on his fore-legs but was unable to do more. - -His struggles became tremendous, his agonised distress piteous to -behold. Bathed in sweat and foam he seemed ready to succumb with terror -and exhaustion, as he sunk sideways till his head, lying prone upon the -grass, nearly touched that of his dead mate. Then again the deadly -weapon rang out, and another victim, this time a frolicsome chestnut -filly, fell to the unerring aim of the marksman, as before, invisible. -Mr. Blount felt a disinclination to move from his position, not knowing -exactly how near he might be to the concealed hunter’s line of fire. - -At length, as nearly all the “mob” were down, a tall man in a Norfolk -jacket of tweed with knickerbockers and gaiters to match, walked forth -from behind an immense eucalyptus. He was plainly dressed, though Mr. -Blount discerned a distinction in his air and bearing which convinced -him that the man was no stockrider. He carried a Winchester magazine -rifle, from which he sent a bullet into the head of the wounded horse, -thus putting an end to his sufferings, and leaving him lying dead amid -the females of his court. - -The accost of the hunter was not markedly cordial as Mr. Blount stated -that it was a lovely morning, and that the scene before him reminded him -of a battlefield. - -“Indeed!” he replied, with a certain amount of hauteur. “May I ask the -favour of your name? and also what you are doing on this part of my -run?” - -“Your run! I was led to believe that I was on the area of Crown land, -open, as such, to all travelling on lawful business. My name is Blount. -May I ask in return for yours? As to my business, I am at present -looking for a strayed horse.” - -“Was he a bay cob with a short tail and hogged mane, a letter and number -on the near shoulder?” - -“That is his exact description.” - -“Then he is safe,” said the stranger. “He had joined the station horses -and was run in with them this morning. He is now in my paddock, as I -assumed that he had strayed from his owner, and was making his way down -to the river. My name is Edward Bruce of Marondah, which is not more -than fifteen miles distant. You had better come home with me; I shall be -happy to put you up for the night, and you can take your horse back in -the morning.” - -The day was drawing to a close. It was a long way to the claim, and -Blount was by no means sure that he could find his way back or even pick -up his own tracks. - -“I think,” he replied, “that I can’t do better than accept your offer, -for which I feel most grateful.” - -“There is no real obligation, believe me,” said Mr. Bruce. - -“But where is your horse?” said Blount, looking at the stranger’s -serviceable leggings. - -“Not far, you may be sure, and in safe keeping; my gillie is pretty -handy.” Putting two fingers to his mouth, he gave the drover’s whistle, -with such volume and shrillness that it might have been heard at a -considerable distance. After a short interval, a high wailing sort of -cry (the Australian aboriginal call) came floating through the forest, -and a black boy galloped up, riding one horse, and leading another of -such superior shape and action that Blount thought it criminal to run -the risk of injuring him in such rough country. - -The black boy led the horse to his master, but did not offer to -dismount, or hold the stirrup, as an English groom would have done. Nor -did such attention appear necessary, as Mr. Bruce mounted with alacrity, -and motioning the boy to ride ahead followed at a brisk trot through the -forest and along the rocky cattle tracks, which, though occasionally -running in different directions, converged, and appeared to lead almost -due south. All the while, the son of the forest sitting loose-reined and -carelessly on his horse, never deviated apparently from his course, or -was in doubt for a moment. - -In less than two hours, when the light was becoming uncertain, and the -chill evening air of these Australian highlands apparent, a chorus of -baying dogs of all ages, sizes and descriptions announced the vicinity -of the homestead. At the same time, the winding course of a full fed -mountain stream was revealed. - -On a promontory which seemed to have dissociated itself from the forest -glades, and been arrested just above the broad river meadow, stood a -roomy bungalow protected by wide verandahs from sun and storm. - -“This is Marondah!” said Mr. Bruce, not without a certain air of -dignity—“allow me to welcome you to my home.” A black girl came running -up at the moment, who showed her enviably white and regular teeth in a -smile of greeting, as in a matter-of-fact way she unstrapped the guest’s -valise, and led off his horse. - -“You put ’em yarraman longa stable,” commanded the squatter—for such he -was. “Your horse will be all right. Polly is as good a stable hand as -Paddy—a turn better, I sometimes think. She’s a clever ‘gin’ all round. -Ah! I see Mrs. Bruce.” - -As they walked forward, a lady came through the garden gate, and met -them—receiving the guest with cordiality—then turning to her husband. - -“You’re rather late, Ned! What kept you? I’m always nervous when you’re -out at that end of the run!” - -“Well, if you must know, I found the grey horse’s mob, which I’ve been -tracking for some time—and got them all—a real bit of luck. Then I fell -in with Mr. Blount, who was looking for that smart cob that came in with -our horses this morning. Luckily for him, as it turns out.” - -“So it was. Did you shoot the poor things? I always feel so sorry for -them.” - -“Of course I did; they’re more trouble than all the other ‘brumbies’ on -the run, galloping about, smashing fences, destroying dams, and wasting -grass, for the use of which I pay the Crown rent.” - -“Yes, a farthing an acre!” laughed the lady. “All the same, it’s very -cruel—don’t you think so, Mr. Blount? What would they say in England of -such barbarous work?” - -“It would raise a scandal, Mrs. Bruce; but everything depends on the -value of the animal, apart from the sentiment.” - -Thus conversing, they walked through the garden, which was encompassed -by an orchard of venerable age. It stretched to the river bank, along -which a line of magnificent willows partly over-arched the stream with -graceful, trailing foliage, while the interlaced roots performed -valuable service in supporting the banks in time of flood. - -Passing along the broad verandah, vine and trailer-festooned, they -entered a hall, of which the door seemed permanently open. - -The walls were garnished with whips, guns on racks (where Mr. Bruce -carefully placed his redoubtable Winchester), the great wings of the -mountain eagle, the scarlet and jet tail-feathers of the black macaw, -and the sulphur-coloured crests of his white relative. These, and other -curios of the Waste, relieved the apartment of any appearance of -bareness, while avoiding incongruity of ornamentation. Passing into a -large, comfortably-furnished room, where preparations for the evening -meal were in evidence, the host pointed to a spirit-stand on the -sideboard, and suggesting that a tot of whisky would not be -inappropriate after a long day, invited his guest to join him. This -offer Mr. Blount frankly accepted, as, besides being tired with a long, -dragging ride, he felt nearly as cold as if he had been deer-shooting in -the Scottish Highlands, instead of this southern mountain land. - -He had donned the riding-suit in which he had arrived at Bunjil, and had -also packed necessaries of travel in his valise, in case he might have -to stay a day at a decent house. This sensible precaution (never -needless in the wildest solitudes of Australia) now stood him in good -stead. And he felt truly thankful, after being ushered into a -comfortable bedroom, that he had resisted the temptation to start off -without them. He was enabled, therefore, to issue forth reasonably -fitted for the society of ladies, and the enjoyment of the hospitality -of the period. So that, when shown into another room smaller than the -first he had entered, but more ornate as to furniture, he felt -comparatively at ease, notwithstanding the roughness of his late -surroundings. - -Mrs. Bruce was already there, and, rising from a sofa, said— - -“Allow me, Mr. Blount, to introduce you to my sister Imogen.” - -A tall girl had at this moment arisen, not previously referred to by his -host or the lady of the house. - -It was not an introduction—it was a revelation, as Blount subsequently -described the interview. Mrs. Bruce was a handsome woman, tall and -stately, as are many Australians, possessing, withal, fine natural -manners improved by travel, and she might reasonably have been expected -to possess a good-looking sister. For so much Blount stood prepared. But -this divinity of the waste—this Venus Anadyomene—was above and beyond -all expectation, all imagination or conception. He gazed at her, as he -confessed to himself, with an expression of unconventional surprise; for -Imogen Carrisforth was, indeed, a girl that no man with the faintest -_soupçon_ of taste or sentiment could behold without admiration. - -Mrs. Bruce was dark-haired, with fine eyes to match, distinctly -aristocratic as to air and carriage; her sister was fair, with abundant -nut-brown hair shot with warmer hues, which shone goldenly as the -lamplight fell across it. It was gathered in masses above her forehead -and around her proudly-poised head, as she smiled a welcome to the -stranger with the hospitably frank accost which greets the guest so -invariably in an Australian country home. While looking into the depths -of her brilliant hazel eyes, Blount almost murmured “O, Dea certe!” -while doubting if he had ever before beheld so lovely a creature. - -Mrs. Bruce attributed his evident surprise to the fact of his not having -been informed of the fact of a second lady being at the house. “Ned -ought to have told you,” she said, “that my sister was staying with us. -She has just come from town, where she has been at school. She is so -tall that really it seemed absurd to keep her there any longer.” - -“You forget that I am eighteen,” said the young lady under observation. -“My education should be finished now, if ever.” - -“Indeed, I’m afraid you won’t learn much more,” said her brother-in-law, -paternally, “though I’m not sure that another year under Miss Charters -would not have been as well.” - -“Oh! but I _did_ pine so for the fresh air of the bush—the rides and -drives and everything. I can’t bear a town life, and was growing -low-spirited.” - -“How about the opera, balls, the Cup Day itself, at your age too?” -interposed Blount. - -“All very well in their way. But society in town seems one unmeaning -round with the same people you meet always. One gets dead tired of it -all. I must have gipsy blood in me, I think, for the gay greenwood has a -fascination, which I feel, but can’t explain.” - -During dinner, Blount found Mrs. Bruce most agreeable, and, indeed, -entertaining. He learned something too about the neighbours, none of -whom were nearer than ten miles. Some, indeed, much farther off. It was -also explained to him that the region of the Upper Sturt was not all -rock and forest, swamp and scrub, but that there were rich tablelands at -“the back,” which might be north or north-east. Also that the country -became more open “down the river,” as well as, in a sense, more -civilised, “though we don’t call ourselves _very_ barbarous,” she added, -with a smile. - -“Barbarous, indeed!” repeated the guest, with well-acted indignation. -“You seem to me to have all the accessories, and more of them than we in -that old-fashioned country called England. Here you have books, papers, -all the comforts and many of the luxuries of the Old Land, besides a -free, unfettered existence, independence, and no earthly annoyance or -danger.” - -“I am not so sure about the last items,” said Mrs. Bruce. “Ned has been -worrying himself lately about a gang of men who call themselves miners, -but are more than suspected to be cattle-stealers. He has missed -valuable animals lately.” - -“You surprise me!” replied Blount, with a shocked expression. “The bush -people whom I have come across have appeared to be such simple, -hard-working fellows. But surely Mr. Bruce doesn’t apprehend danger from -gold-diggers or drovers? They are so civil and well-mannered too.” - -“Their manners are good enough; better, people tell us, than those of -the same class at home. But they are not always to be trusted, and are -revengeful when thwarted in their bad practices. Edward has more than -once been warned to be more careful about riding alone near their haunts -in the ranges, though he always goes armed.” - -“But surely none of the ‘mountain men,’ as I have heard them called, -would lie in wait for Mr. Bruce, or any other proprietor, even if he was -unpopular, which I feel certain Mr. Bruce is not?” - -“There is no saying. Blood has been shed in these mountains before now, -peaceful as they appear. However, Edward never stirs out in that -direction without his rifle, and you have seen him shoot. He has no -fear, but I cannot feel free from anxiety myself. And now I think we -must go into the drawing-room, or wrap up and sit in the verandah while -you men smoke; what do you say, Imogen?” - -“I vote for the verandah. There’s no wind, and the moon is nearly full. -It’s tolerably cool; but dry cold never hurts any one. Indeed, it’s said -to be the new cure for chest ailment at Davos Platz, isn’t it, Edward?” - -“They say so. Doctors are always changing their theories. I prefer a -climate that’s moderately cosy myself. But we must have our smoke, and -you girls can talk to us, if you keep to low tones and modulated -expressions.” - -Blount would have vowed to renounce tobacco for the rest of his natural -life if but Miss Imogen would sit by him. The moon had risen, flooding -the dark woods and river pools with silver radiance. Could they but -continue to listen dreamily to the rhythmic murmur of the stream, the -softly-sighing, complaining sound of the trailing willows as from time -to time the river current lifted them—what had life to compare with such -sensations? However, this idyllic joy was in its nature fleeting, as it -became apparent that the frosty air “was really too keen for reasonable -people who had colds to consider and babies.” So Mrs. Bruce, thus -remonstrating, arose, and with two words, “Come, Imogen!” made for one -of the French windows which opened from the drawing-room to the -verandah. When they entered that comfortable, well-furnished apartment—a -handsome Blüthner piano stood open, with music conveniently close—Mr. -Bruce quasi-paternally ordered Imogen to sing, in order that he might -judge what progress she had made during the half year. - -So they had a song, another, several indeed to finish up with. Mr. -Blount admitted a slight knowledge of music, and even took a creditable -second in one of Miss Carrisforth’s songs. The night wore on, until just -before ten o’clock, a neat maid brought in a tray with glasses, and the -wherewithal to fill the same. The ladies declining refreshment, said -good-night, and left Mr. Bruce and his guest to have their final smoke, -hoping that they would not sit up too late, as they must feel tired -after their long day’s ride. - -The night was glorious, the moon, nearly at its full, had floated into -the mid-heaven. The cloudless, dark blue sky seemed to be illumined with -star clusters and planets of greater lustre than in ordinary seasons. As -they smoked silently, Blount listening to the river gurgling and -rippling over its pebbly shallows, the sharp contrast of his -surroundings with those he had so lately quitted, indeed even with those -during the penultimate sojourn at Bunjil, struck him so forcibly that he -could hardly repress a smile. - -However he merely remarked—“Australia is certainly a land of wonders—my -friends in England will not believe half my adventures when I tell -them.” - -“I can quite understand that,” replied his host. “When I returned to my -native place, after ten years’ absence, mine showed signs of utter -disbelief in my smaller experiences, while hazardous tales were -swallowed without hesitation.” - - * * * * * - -Mr. Blount rose early and was rewarded by a view of the dawnlight -suffusing the eastern horizon with pale opaline tints, gradually -increasing in richness and variety of colouring. Roseate golden clouds -were marshalled around the summit of the snow-crowned alp, and even the -darksome forest aisles responded to the divine informing waves of light -and life. - -He was aroused from reverie as he gazed upon the wondrous apparition by -resounding whips and the roll of hoofs, as the station horses were being -run into the yard. The cob was easily distinguished by his cropped tail -and mane, while, refreshed by rest and freedom, he galloped and kicked -up his heels, as if he had been reared in the bush, instead of in a -suburban paddock. Mr. Blount also witnessed his being caught and -conveyed to the stable, in company with Mr. Bruce’s favourite hackney, -and another distinguished-looking animal. With respect to the -last-named, Paddy said that one “belong’n Miss Immie,” volunteering -further information to this effect. - -“My word! that one missy ride fustrate.” Storing this encomium in his -mind, Mr. Blount repaired to his apartment, where he made all ready for -departure, resolving not to remain longer away from his associates in -the “Lady Julia,” however great the temptation. - -This came at breakfast time, when Mrs. Bruce invited him to stay a few -days, when they would show him their best bits of scenery and otherwise -try to amuse him. There was a muster of fat cattle coming on, which was -always held to be an interesting spectacle to visitors from the other -side of the world. Mr. Bruce was convinced that he would acquire more -colonial experience in a week at this particular time, than half a year -would show him at a different season. A few neighbours would come -over—very decent fellows, and fair specimens of Australian country -gentlemen. It would be a regular “house-party,” as they say in England. -The opportunity should not be lost. - -Miss Imogen did not join in the endeavour to tempt Mr. Blount from the -path of duty, but she looked as if such a deflection from the narrow way -would meet with her approval. After his very courteous, but distinct -expression of regret, that he was compelled by a business engagement to -decline—with how much reluctance, he could hardly say—their most kind -and flattering invitation, the request was not pressed, and the -remainder of the breakfast passed off in a lively interchange of the -pleasantries proper to the occasion. - -“We are going to speed the parting guest, if he will not honour our -abode any longer,” said Mrs. Bruce, playfully; “but we must do it after -our own fashion. My husband, Imogen and I, will ride with you for part -of the way—indeed nearly as far as where you met Ned yesterday, if you -don’t mind?” - -“Mind,” replied the guest, with a look of surprised gratitude, which -caused Miss Imogen to smile and blush. “Nothing could possibly give me -greater pleasure.” - -“So that’s settled,” said Bruce. “I’ll order the horses round; we’ll -take Paddy with us, who may as well lead your cob till we part company, -and I’ll mount you on one of the best hacks in this district, or any -other. It will save your horse, and as you’re likely to have a long day -that’s a consideration.” - -“How you are adding to my load of obligation; I shall never be able to -repay half the debt.” - -“Time enough when we meet again,” said the host, “but we’ve none to -spare at present. So, Imogen, ten minutes and no more to put on your -habit.” - -“Five will do,” said the girl, as she laughingly ran out of the room, to -reappear gloved, hatted, and turned out in a most accurately-fitting -habit as the horses were led up. - -Her brother-in-law put his hand under her dainty foot, and lifted her -lightly into the saddle, while the bright chestnut mare sidled, and -arched her neck, as she felt the lightest of hands on her bridle rein. -Mr. Bruce guaranteed that the hunter-looking bay detailed for his -guest’s use was “prompt in his paces, cool and bold” like Bevis, upon -whom the spectre knight’s night-ride had such an unfortunate effect, -while he himself mounted the favourite steed which his guest had -remarked at their first meeting, saying: “You don’t often see a -better-looking lot together; as good, too, as they are good-looking.” -Mr. Blount was convinced of the justice of this valuation, and thought -that the statement might even be applied to the riders. Paddy, on a -veteran stock horse, brought up the rear leading the cob, whose short -tail and hogged mane excited Polly’s unmeasured ridicule: “Mine thinkit, -that one pfeller brother belongin’ to pig,” and seized with the -comicality of the idea, she exploded in fits of laughter, as casting -lingering looks of regret at the receding cavalcade, she walked soberly -back to the huts. - -“These two horses are the fast walkers of the party, Mr. Blount,” began -the fair Imogen, as the clever hackney she rode started off at so fast a -pace as to incur the suspicion of ambling. “Ned and his henchman, Paddy, -will go rambling ahead or on a parallel, looking for strange tracks, -denoting trespassers on the run, strayed cattle, indeed found sometimes -before they are lost, that is by the lawful owners. The life of the -owner of a cattle station is often ‘not a happy one.’ It is surprising -how many kinds of annoyances, risks and anxieties, he may suffer from.” - -“Mr. Bruce doesn’t look as if he suffered from any of the ills of life,” -said Blount, gazing at his fair companion, as who should say, “How -_could_ any man be unhappy who has such a charming sister-in-law, not to -mention a delightful wife and a nice baby?” However he did not wish for -a catalogue of his host’s annoyances. He wanted to hear his companion’s -appreciation of the grand scheme of colour, tone, light and shadow, just -opening out before them, as the “glorious sun uprist” amid clouds which -had recently rolled away, leaving full in view the forest-clothed -uplands, the silent gorges, and the glittering summit of the majestic -alp. - -Right joyous are the pastimes connected with horse and hound in the -older land whence our fathers came, amid the wide pastures, the -hedge-bordered fields of green England. - -With the hog-spear and rifle on the dusty plains and sudden appearing -nullahs of Hindostan, Arab and Waler, by riders of world wide fame, are -hard pressed in rivalry. In equestrian tournaments, in the polo -gymkhana, and other military contests, there are trials of skill and -horsemanship, with a suspicion of danger, to stir a man’s blood. But a -gallop through the glades of an Australian forest, in the autumnal -season of the year, or even in the so-called mid-winter under the -cloudless skies and glowing sun of the southern hemisphere, yields to no -sport on earth, in keenness of enjoyment or the excitement generated by -the pride of horsemanship. - -When the company is illumined by a suitable proportion of dames and -demoiselles, right royally mounted, and practised in the _manège_, the -combination is perfect. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - -AND, in the joyous days of youth, the glorious, the immortal, the true, -the ever-adorable deity of the soul’s childhood, unheeding, careless of -the future, thinking, like charity, no evil, revelling in the purely -sensuous enjoyment of the fair present, which of the so-called pleasures -of the future can claim equality of richness or flavour, with those of -that unsurpassable period of the mysterious human pageant! “Carpe Diem!” -oh! fortunate heir of life’s richest treasure-house, is the true, the -only true philosophy. Enjoy, while the pulse is high, the vigour of -manhood untouched by Time, the spirit unsaddened by distrust of the -future. - -For you, glows that cloudless azure; for you the streams murmur, the -breezes sigh, the good horse bounds freely over the elastic sward; for -you shine the eyes of the beauteous maiden with a fore-taste of the -divine dream of love. Thank the kind gods, that have provided so -bounteous a feast of soul and sense! Oh! happy thou, that art bidden to -such a banquet of the immortals; quaff the ambrosia, while the light -still glows on Olympus, and Nemesis is as yet an unimagined terror. - -In the days which were to come, in the destiny which the Fates were even -then weaving for him, Valentine Blount told himself that never in his -whole life had so many conditions of perfect enjoyment been combined as -in that memorable riding party. - -The sun rays prophetic of an early summer, for which the men of a -thousand shearing sheds were even now mustering, were warm, yet tempered -by the altitude of the region and the proximity of the snow fields. All -nature seemed to recognise the voice of spring. The birds came forth -from their leafy coverts, their wild but not unmusical notes sounding -strangely unfamiliar to the English stranger. An occasional kangaroo -dashed across their path, flying with tremendous bounds to its home on -the mountain side. A lot of half-wild cattle stood gazing for a few -moments, then “cleared,” as Miss Imogen expressed it, for more secluded -regions. - -“I wonder if I could ‘wheel’ them,” she said, as her bright glance -followed the receding drove; “I see Ned and Paddy on the other wing; Mr. -Blount, you can follow, but don’t pass me, whatever you do;” and in -spite of Mrs. Bruce’s prudential “Oh! Imogen, don’t be rash!” away went -the wilful damsel, through the thickening timber, at a pace with which -the visitor, excellently mounted as he was, on a trained stock-horse, -found it no easy task to keep up. Directly this enterprising movement on -the part of the young lady was observed by the watchful Paddy, he called -to Mr. Bruce, “Miss Immy wheel ’em, my word. Marmy! you man’em this one -piccanniny yarraman, me ‘back up.’” Paddy’s old stock horse dashed off -at speed, little inferior to that of the young lady’s thoroughbred, and -appeared on the “off side wing” just as the fair Diana had wheeled (or -turned) the leaders to the right. Paddy riding up to them on the left -and menacing with his stockwhip, caused them to turn towards Imogen. -This manœuvre persevered with, was finally crowned with success; -inasmuch as the two protagonists, working together and causing the drove -to “ring” or keep moving in a circle, finally persuaded them to stop and -be examined, when with heaving flanks they bore testimony to the -severity of the pace. - -Mrs. Bruce, with instinctive knowledge of the points of the situation, -had kept quietly behind her guest, who so far from passing his fair -pilot, found that it gave him enough to do to keep sight of her. - -He did service however, if unconsciously, by keeping at a certain -distance behind Imogen, which prevented the cattle from “breaking” or -running back behind her. Mrs. Bruce had ridden quietly behind the rear -guard, or “tail” (as provincially expressed), and as Mr. Bruce, though -hampered with the cob, which he had caught and led along, kept his place -between Mrs. Bruce and Paddy, the disposition was theoretically perfect, -also successful, which in battles as well as in the lesser pursuits of -the world is _the_ great matter, after all. - -“Upon my word, Imogen!” said Mr. Bruce, “you have given us a pretty -gallop, and as these bullocks are fat, it can’t have done them much -good. However,” riding round as he spoke, “it gives me a chance to look -through them, and, Hulloa! By Jove! it’s as well I came here to-day, -somebody has put a fresh brand on that black snail-horned bullock, J. C. -just over the E. H. B.; I never sold that beast, I swear! And who the -dickens has put those two letters on? Been done in a pen. You can see -it’s put on from above.” - -“Me see um fresh brand on one feller cow,” stated Paddy, with gravity -and deliberation; “me thinkum might ‘duff’ bullock alonga Wild Horse -Gully, me seeum track shod horse that one day marmy shootem brumbie.” - -“All right, Paddy,” said his master, “you lookem out track nother one -day.” - -“My word!” replied Paddy, “me track um up jolly quick.” - -Mr. Bruce seemed disconcerted by the discovery just made. It was not -unimportant. He had suspected that he was losing cattle at this “end of -the run,” among the ranges and broken country. He had not too good an -opinion of the honesty of the small parties of miners who worked the -gullies and creeks which led to the river. He supposed that they got a -beast now and then, but was loath to believe that there was any -organised system of plunder. Now, it was as plain as print that cattle -were yarded in small numbers and branded, before they were delivered to -the buyers, whoever they were. How many had been taken he could hardly -venture to guess at. Cattle being worth from eight to twelve pounds a -head, it would not take so many to be worth a thousand pounds. It made -him look grave, as he said— - -“I’m afraid, after this pleasant ride of ours, that it’s time for these -ladies to get home. It will be past lunch-time when they sight Marondah, -and Mrs. Bruce has family responsibilities, you know. However, I’ll send -Paddy on with you till he puts you on a track which will lead to your -destination.” - -Mr. Blount was profuse in thanks, and exhausted himself in statements -that he had never enjoyed himself so much in his life, and had a -glorious gallop into the bargain; that it had given him quite a new idea -of Australia, that he had been slow to believe the romantic tales he had -heard about Australian bush-riders and their cross-country work. He was -now in a position to confirm any such statement made, and to declare -that Australian ladies, in science, coolness and courage, were equal to -any horsewomen in any country in the world. He should never forget the -hospitality he had received, nor the lessons in bushmanship. He trusted -to revisit Marondah again before long, when he might, perhaps, be -permitted to taste a more leisurely enjoyment of their fascinating -country life. - -Dismounting, he took leave of the ladies, assuring Mrs. Bruce that he -should never forget her kindness and that of Mr. Bruce. If he was less -diffuse in his explanations to Miss Imogen, it may have been that there -was a warmth of his final hand-clasp, or an expression as their eyes -met, before she turned her horse’s head and rejoined her friends, which -was comparatively satisfactory. - -The return stage was short, as Blount did not desire to take the -hawk-eyed aboriginal too near the claim, much less within tracking -distance of the stockyard. The fresh tracks of the unwilling cattle, -forced into a strange and small enclosure, would be like a placard in -large letters to the wildwood scout. Hence, as soon as he had land-marks -to guide him, he dismissed his Hiberno-Australian attendant, who handed -over the cob and departed with a cheerful countenance and a couple of -half-crowns. - -Left to himself, Mr. Blount rode slowly and heedfully along what he -conceived to be the way to the claim, much exercised in his mind as to -his line of conduct. - -Putting together various incidents and unconsidered trifles, the -conviction flashed across his mind that he had been involuntarily an -associate of cattle-stealers, and it might well be believed an -accomplice. - -What position would be his if the whole gang were arrested, and he -himself included in the capture? Could it be, during that ride with -Little-River-Jack, that he had assisted to drive certain fat cattle -afterwards sworn to be the property of Mr. Bruce of Marondah, and -bearing his well-known brand “E. H. B.”? Could he deny that he had heard -cattle put into the stockyard near the “Lady Julia” claim late in the -evening, by John Carter (_alias_ “Little-River-Jack”), and taken away -before daylight? - -He had received his share of the money for which the gold won in the -claim where he had worked was sold, or _said to be sold_. How could he -prove that it was not a part of the price of the stolen cattle? And so -on. He felt like many another man innocent of evil, or thought of evil, -that, with absurd credulity, and want of reasonable prudence, he had, to -a certain degree, enmeshed himself—might, indeed, find it difficult, if -not impossible, to get free from the consequences of a false accusation. - -Perhaps it might have been his duty, in the interests of justice, to -have acquainted Mr. Bruce with the circumstances of his sojourn at the -claim with the O’Haras and Dixon (otherwise Lanky); also of the -suspicious cattle-dealing. This would have simply amounted to “giving -away” the men whose bread he was eating, and who were, however -unfortunate the position, his “mates” and comrades. Mr. Bruce would, -naturally, lose no time in setting the police to work. Then, -Little-River-Jack had certainly saved his life on the “Razor-Back” -ridge; another second or two and the cob with his rider would have been -lying among the rocks below. One such accident _did_ happen there, when -man and horse went over, and were found dead and mangled. As for the two -O’Haras and George Dixon, he had no sort of doubt now of their being -mixed up with the taking of Mr. Bruce’s cattle—possibly of those of -other squatters in his neighbourhood. Of the men who brought the cattle -to the yard, he, of course, had no knowledge, and could have none. In -the half-darkness of the winter dawn he could only dimly discern a -couple of horsemen, one of whom appeared to ride on with Jack Carter, -the other returning. - -He was glad now that he had not seen them near enough for -identification. He was close to the claim now, having hit upon the -track, which he remembered was only a few miles distant. - -What was he to say to his late companions, and what would be their -feelings towards him, if they heard of the police being after them so -soon after his trip down the river? Would they be persuaded that he had -not betrayed, or at any rate attracted suspicion towards them, which -came to the same thing? - -He was in their power, he could not but feel that. What chance could he -have against three determined men, with perhaps as many more who might -be members of the outside gang, the men who were heard, but not seen, -for now he remembered to have heard the lowing of driven cattle more -than once, and the guarded voices of drovers. There was, of course only -one thing to do. He must face the position squarely and tell the truth, -whatever might be the consequences. He would warn them that Mr. Bruce -suspected the miners in the locality of being in league with -cattle-stealers, who were selling his fat cattle to the butchers on the -smaller diggings, of which there were not a few between the heads of the -rivers and the foothills of the mountain range. They knew Mr. Bruce, a -determined, fearless man, who would show them no mercy. They had better -“clear,” to use one of their own expressions, before the pursuit was too -hot. - -Revolving these thoughts in his mind, he rode briskly on. He had -remounted the cob, now very fresh, and led the borrowed horse, who, as -he thought, deserved all reasonable consideration. When within half a -mile of the camp he saw a man walking along the track towards him. It -was Phelim O’Hara, the big miner, whom he had always admired as a fine -specimen of an Australian. He was a good-natured giant, possessing also -a large share of the rollicking, reckless humour which is the heritage -of the Milesian Celt. Phelim was a native-born Australian, however, and -on occasion could be sufficiently stern, not to say savage. Now he did -not look so pleasant as usual. - -“Safe home, Mr. Blount,” he said. “I see you’ve found that cob of yours, -bad cess to him! I’ve lost a day through him, and maybe more than that. -But I’m dealin’ with a gentleman, lucky for all consarned.” - -“I hope so, Phelim,” said the Englishman; “but what’s the matter, the -camp seems deserted?” - -“The meaning’s this, Mr. Blount.” Here his voice became rough, if not -menacing. “The police are after us. There’s some yarn got up about -Little-River-Jack and us duffing cattle and selling them on the small -diggings. Pat and Lanky have cleared. I stayed behind to get this horse -of mine and give you the office. There’s some says you gave us away to -Mr. Bruce, and we know what _he_ is when he thinks he’s being robbed.” - -“I’ve heard your story, Phelim, now for mine. I met Mr. Bruce, who’d -been shooting wild horses. He asked me what I was doing _on his run_—he -spoke rather shortly. I told him I was looking for my cob, and that I -believed it was Crown land, open to all. He then asked me to describe -the cob, and telling me it was in his paddock, invited me to stay at -Marondah all night, where I was most hospitably treated. He proposed to -ride part of the way back with me, and for Mrs. Bruce and his -sister-in-law to accompany us.” - -“That’s Miss Imogen,” said O’Hara. “Isn’t she the beauty of the world? -And ride! There isn’t a stockrider from this to Omeo that she couldn’t -lose in mountain country. Mrs. Bruce rides well too, I’m told.” - -“Yes, indeed; we rounded up a mob of cattle. Miss Imogen ‘wheeled’ them -at the start. Black Paddy, who had been brought to lead the cob, was on -the other wing. After that they began to ‘ring,’ and stopped. Then Mr. -Bruce, looking through them, unfortunately saw one of the ‘E. H. B.’ -bullocks with a strange brand newly put on. ‘That bullock’s been -yarded,’ he said, ‘and the brand “J. C.” has been put on in a crush.’ I -said nothing. Paddy came with me as far as the cattle track, by the -creek that leads to the claim. I remembered that. Then he gave me the -cob, and I came on. Now you have the whole story. I did not say where I -had come from, nor did Mr. Bruce question me. Of course I put two and -two together about the fat cattle. But I said nothing. I have eaten your -salt, and Little-River-Jack certainly saved my life.” - -“Then you didn’t give us away,” said O’Hara, “or say where we was -camped, or tell our names? O’Hara’s not a good one, more’s the pity,” -and here the big mountaineer looked regretful, even repentant over the -past. - -“No! not by a word. As luck would have it, Mr. Bruce did not ask me -where or with whom I had been living.” - -“And what brought you back here? Wouldn’t it have been easy enough to -clear away down the river, and get shut of us, for good and all?” - -“Easy enough, and to have gone down river by steamer. But I wanted to -warn you in time. I knew Mr. Bruce suspected that there were diggers -hereabouts that knew about the fat cattle he missed. So I came to give -you fair warning. Where are the others?” - -“They’ve cleared out. I don’t think they’ll be seen in a hurry, this -side anyhow. They’ve packed all they wanted, and sent word to some of -their pals to come and collar the rest. They can’t be pulled for that. -There’s a few ounces of gold coming to you, and the ‘clean up’ was the -best we’ve had. Here it is.” And suiting the action to the word, he -pulled out from a leather pouch a wash-leather bag which, for its size, -felt heavy. - -“Keep it, Phelim, I won’t take a penny of it. I learned a good deal -while I was with you, and shall always be pleased to think that I worked -with _men_, and could hold my own among them.” - -“You’re a gentleman, sir, and we’ll always uphold you as one, no matter -what happens to us. We’re not bad chaps in our way, though things has -gone against us. What’ll you do now? Camp here to-night? No? Then I’ll -ride with you past ‘Razor Back’; you’ll have light then and the road’s -under your feet. You’d better take my horse till we pass ‘Razor Back.’ -_He_ won’t boggle at it if it was twice as narrow.” - -It did not take long to pack all that was strictly necessary, which -alone Mr. Blount decided to take with him. After which O’Hara boiled the -billy, and produced a decent meal, which Mr. Blount, having tasted -nothing since breakfast, did justice to. No time was lost then, and -O’Hara leading off with the cob started at a canter, with which Blount -on his horse found no difficulty in keeping up. The contract was -performed, they safely negotiated the perilous pass, the mountain horse -treading as securely and safely as on a macadamised high road, and the -cob going very differently with a different rider. He was then -bestridden by his lawful owner, who prepared to make good time into -Bunjil. The moon was rising, when the men—so strangely met, and -associated—parted. Blount held out his hand, which the other grasped -with unconsciously crushing force. Then the mountaineer quitted the -road, and plunging down the steep into the darksome forest, disappeared -from sight. - - * * * * * - -Bunjil township was reached before midnight. There had been the local -excitement of an improvised race meeting, the head prize being a bridle -and saddle; the Consolation Stakes boasted a silver-mounted whip, -generously presented by the respected host of the Bunjil Hotel. So that -Mr. Blount, whose train of thought for the last hour or two wavered -between encouragement and depression, as he dreaded the inn being shut, -the ostler asleep, the fire out and the girl gone to bed, felt reassured -as he heard voices and saw lights, indicative of cheery wakefulness. By -good luck, too, the best bedroom and the parlour were unoccupied. Sheila -promised a fire in the latter apartment and tea ready in less than no -time. The ostler took the cob to a loose box, just vacated, while Mr. -Blount having deposited his “swag” in the bedroom and made all ready for -a solid meal, and a royal toasting of his person before the fire of -logs, felt quite a glow of happiness. - -On re-entering the parlour he was warmly welcomed by Sheila, who indeed -was so unaffectedly cordial in hailing his safe return, that the guest -concluded that there must have been reason for conjecturing that the -reverse might have occurred. - -As she greeted him with natural unstudied welcome, he could not resist -taking both her hands in his, and shaking them with a warmth -corresponding with her feeling of gratitude at his safe return from -apparently unknown and mysterious dangers. The girl blushed and -disengaged her hands, but showed no discomposure as she said, “We didn’t -know but something might have happened to you, out in that wild place, -and Little-River-Jack said you had a narrow escape on ‘Razor Back,’ as -your cob got frightened and might have gone over the downfall like Paddy -Farrell. Then Dick came along, he sold out his share to you, didn’t he? -And he got on the spree for a day or two and let out a few things that -he’d better have kept to himself. So taking it altogether, we’re all -glad, Mr. Middleton, the missis, and me too, that you’re back safe and -sound.” - -While the latter part of this dialogue was proceeding, Mr. Blount had -seated himself at the table with his back to the fire, and made a -frontal attack upon a broiled steak flanked by a dish of floury -potatoes, which told of the sharpening effect on the appetite of a long -day in the saddle, and the stimulation of a night journey with two -degrees of frost. - -“You had better take away these dishes, Sheila, or I shall never stop -eating. I think, however, that I can hold out till breakfast, now we -have got so far.” - -About this time the landlord appeared, blandly apologetic for delay, but -pleading the necessity for being in the bar while there were so many -“gents” round anxious to go home on good terms with themselves. - -“More likely to run against a fence, or the bough of a tree,” said -Sheila, who had now rejoined the party, “that’s the sort of ‘good terms -with themselves,’ that’s the fashion, Bunjil way. I wonder there’s not -more legs and arms broken than there are.” - -“Why, it’s a good month since you left us, Mr. Blount,” said the -landlord, cheerily unheeding the maid’s moral reflections. “The Sergeant -was here a day or two back, and asked after you—Little-River-Jack came -last week, and talked of going away unless things mended. He billed -Stubbins for a quarter of beef he owed him, and they had a row, and got -to fighting over it.” - -“How did that come off?” queried the guest, dallying with his second cup -of tea, and a plate of buttered toast. “Jack’s rather a light weight.” - -“So he is—but he can use his hands, and he’s that active he takes a lot -of beating. Well, the butcher at Green Point is a couple of stone -heavier, and fancies himself a bit. He says, ‘You’d better summon me, -Jack!’ We all knew what that meant.” - -“You’re takin’ a mean advantage,” says Jack, “it’s a cowardly thing to -do. But I’ll tell you what, if you’re man enough, I’ll fight you for -it—it’s a matter of four notes—five and twenty shillings a hundred—are -you on?” - -“All right!” says the Green Point chap; “so they stripped to it, and had -a regular ding-dong go in. The butcher seemed to have the best of it at -first, but Jack wore him out, hittin’ and gettin’ away, and dancin’ -round him—all them tricks. At last he bunged up his eyes and nearly -blinded him, they say. Then Jack went in and finished him; what with -loss of wind, and the punishment he got, the butcher was clean knocked -out afore the tenth round. So he didn’t come to time, and the referee -gave it against him. Jack got the four notes and cleared—the butcher -paid up honourable—but he couldn’t show outside the shop for a fortnight -afterwards.” - -“A capital stand-up fight, I’m sure. I should like to have been there to -see it. And now, I think I’ll turn in. I’m a bit tired, and dead sleepy. -Good-night, Mr. Middleton, good-night, Sheila! I’ll have breakfast at -nine o’clock, please, bacon and eggs is my present fancy. I’ll stay in -Bunjil a few days and loaf for a change.” - - * * * * * - -If there is anything in life more conducive to happiness than waking at -dawn in the country, assured of comfort, free from anxiety and relieved -from duty, few people have experienced it. - -And nowhere can the rare luxury of the conditions be more fully savoured -than in Australia. Mr. Blount was firmly of this opinion, as in virtue -of his late habitudes, the birds’ wild melody awoke him, as the first -dawnlight tinged the grey, reluctant East. - -However, on reflection he decided to take another hour’s repose, while -all things were favourable to such indulgence. - -Then, between sleeping and waking, he dozed deliciously until half-past -seven, when he sallied forth, towel in hand, to the creek bank. In the -garden was a rude, but competent bath-house, from which he was enabled -to plunge into the ice-cold stream. - -Truth to tell, he did not make a lengthened stay therein, the mercury -being little, if anything, above freezing point, but devoted himself to -a complete and conscientious scrubbing with the rough towel, at the -conclusion of which, he found that a delicious glow had rewarded his -efforts, and the praiseworthy self-denial of the cold-colder-coldest -bath he had taken as a daily custom, ever since he could remember. It is -the after taste, which, as in other matters, is so truly luxurious. - -Running back to the house, he saw that his expectation of a full-sized, -first-class fire in the breakfast room had been realised. After warming -himself at this, he attacked the serious business of dressing for the -day, which he pursued with such diligence that he was ready for the -bacon and eggs, before referred to, as nearly as possible at the -appropriate hour. - -“Got you a good fire, you see,” remarked Sheila, who, smiling and rosy -as the morn, stood in attendance. “Hope you slept well. My word! we got -an awful start, didn’t know what was going to happen, when Senior -Constable Moore came here the day before yesterday to get warrants for -Little-River-Jack (_alias_ John Carter), Phelim O’Hara, his brother -Patrick, and also a man working in the claim, known as Jack Blunt, and -one ‘Tumberumba Dick.’ Asked me and Mr. Middleton a lot of questions.” - -“And what did you say?” - -“We didn’t know much, or say much either, if it comes to that. Yes! knew -that Little-River-Jack passed through here now and again. Where he went -to—couldn’t say—hadn’t seen him lately. Heard the O’Haras were working -miners from Queensland or Gippsland—only seen them once. Tumberumba Dick -stayed a day or two here last week, and got on the spree rather. Said -he’d sold his share to Jack Blunt, and was clearing out for West -Australia. Little-River-Jack was a butcher, and supplied the small -diggings.” - -“What did they ask about Jack Blunt, eh?” - -“Oh! a lot. What was he like?—how was he dressed?” - -“Tall and dark” (I said), “not bad-looking.” Here Mr. Blount bowed. -“Dressed like any other gentleman travelling for pleasure. Rough tweed -suit and leggings. Left a few things here. Went away a month ago, with -Little-River-Jack.” - -“What for—did he say?” the Senior Constable asked. - -“Yes! he talked quite free and open. Said he wanted to see the -country—what gold-diggings were like, and all that. Jack promised to -show him a regular mountain claim—the ‘Lady Julia.’ Tumberumba Dick when -he came by, said ‘he’d sold his share to him for £20. He was full up of -mountain claims, was clearing out for West Australia, where there were -big rises to be made.’” - -“Why didn’t they serve warrants, then?” - -“The Senior Constable had a long talk with our old Sergeant—he’s retired -now, but everybody puts great faith in him.” - -“Did you hear what he said?” - -“No—but it came out that the Sergeant told him to be careful about -arresting men on suspicion—there was no direct evidence (those were the -words) against any of the men named. Nobody could swear to their having -been seen taking or branding cattle. Those who knew the O’Haras spoke of -them as hardworking diggers—who sold their gold to Little-River-Jack or -got him to sell it for them. As for Jack Blunt they said—” here the -speaker hesitated. - -“Well, what did they say about him?” - -“I hardly like to tell you, sir.” - -“Oh! come, out with it. What does it matter?” - -“Well, sir”—the girl smiled mischievously—“they said—(that is Tumberumba -Dick told some one, who told some one else), that you were a harmless -‘New Chum,’ that hardly knew a cow from a calf, and couldn’t have -‘duffed’ a bullock off a range, if you’d tried for a year.” - -“Very complimentary indeed, I must say. So everybody’s honest in this -country who can’t ride—eh?” - -“Well, yes, sir—about cattle; with sheep it’s different.” - -“I see—never struck me before. I’m glad my honesty is undoubted in a -cattle district, because I can’t gallop down a range. They don’t fine or -imprison for bad riding, I suppose—_yet_. And so you stood up for me, -Sheila, didn’t you?” - -“How did you know that, sir?” - -“Why, of course you did. I knew you would because we’ve always been -friends. Besides, I saw you looking after me warningly the day I went -away with Jack Carter.” - -“I know I did,” said the girl, impetuously. “I had a great mind to say -all I knew, and tell you to have nothing to do with him or his mates.” - -“And why didn’t you?” - -“Well, you were so set upon going, and it wasn’t for a girl like me to -advise a gentleman of your sort.” - -“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Every one is as good as any one else in -Australia. So the papers say, at any rate.” - -“Nothing of the sort. A gentleman is a gentleman, and a servant girl a -servant in Australia; all over the world, if it comes to that. I don’t -hold with this democratic rot. All the same, there’s nothing to prevent -you and me having a talk now and then, as long as we keep our places.” - -“I should think not,” he rejoined, “and though I might have got into a -serious difficulty through Carter’s introductions, I’m not sorry, on the -whole, that I went with him, the experience was most interesting.” - -“That means you saw somebody. Who was _she_, I wonder? Men are all -alike, gentle and simple. I believe I could give a guess, as we heard -you went down the river.” - -To this day Blount declares that he never enjoyed a better meal; he -certainly never had a better appetite. And as the sun rising higher in -the heavens irradiated the meadows, the hurrying water of the creek, the -brilliant green of the opening buds of the great elms and poplars that -fringed that streamlet, he admitted that the landscape was almost worthy -of the memorable meal. - -After a leisurely assimilation of the journals of the day, and a smoke -in the verandah, he ordered the cob to be brought round, being of -opinion that gentle exercise would be advantageous to his legs, which -the last day’s work might have tried unfairly. They certainly had -puffed, but there was no sign of lameness, and his owner decided that -daily exercise would meet the complaint. Hearing that the Sergeant was -at home he resolved to look up that gallant officer, and gather from him -what rumour had asserted as to Little-River-Jack, the O’Haras, Mr. -Bruce, and lastly himself, if rumours there were. - -He found the ex-guardian of the peace, and, so to speak, warden of the -marches, weeding his garden, a trim, well-ordered plot, which, like the -remainder of his little property, was a standing object lesson to the -surrounding homesteads. Putting down his hoe, the veteran advanced with -an air of great cordiality, and welcomed him. - -“Sae you have won back frae the Debatable Land, as they ca’ed Nicol -Forest in my youth. There have been wars, and rumours o’ wars, but the -week past; warrants to be issued for Phelim and Patrick O’Hara, and one -Little-River-Jack (went by the name of John Carter), forbye ‘Tumberumba -Dick,’ and a man known as Jack Blunt (_alias_ Valentine Blount) seen in -company with the above on the 20th of August last. Ay! it was openly -said, and I was lookin’ to see you arrive, maybe with the bracelets on. -What think ye of that?” - -“That I should have had good cause of action for false imprisonment,” -answered the tourist. “But why didn’t they issue the warrants?” - -“Maybe they were no that sure aboot the evidence. There’s neecessity, ye -ken, that there should be full and aample proof in thae ‘duffing’ cases, -as the country people ca’ them. A bush jury winna convict as lang’s -there a link short o’ the Crown Prosecutor’s chain o’ evidence.” - -“And was there? I feel personally much obliged to the Department of -Justice for their scruples, which do them honour.” - -“Weel, ye ken, though Mr. Bruce o’ Marondah deposed on aith that he saw -an E.H.B. bullock, his property, with a J.C. brand put freshly on, there -was nae witness who saw John Carter or any ither carle do it or the -like. He missed cattle, sure enough, and Black Paddy led him and two -troopers to a deserted claim known as the ‘Lady Julia,’ near which was a -stockyaird wi’ fresh cattle tracks baith in and oot. They didna gang in -their lane. A’body kens that. But wha saw them gang in or gang oot? -Strong presumption, clear circumstantial evidence, but next to nae -proof. Sae the airm of the law was stayed—a great peety, wasna it?” - -“Really, it seems like it. Fine paragraphs, lost to the local press. -Capture of cattle-stealers, a leading butcher implicated. A gentleman -lately from England arrested. Damages laid by him for false imprisonment -at £10,000. Really, I might have bought a station with the money, and -been rich and respected. Many a big squatter, Dick told me, had begun -that way, but he _had_ stolen the cattle or sheep, and served sentence -for it, before he turned his talents to better purpose.” - -“Dick’s no to lippen to,” replied the Sergeant, “nor nane o’ thae kind -o’ folk. They’ll tell lees by the bushel, gin ye stay to believe them. -When a’s said and done, laddie, ye’re well oot o’ it. Ye’ll maybe tak’ -heed o’ chance companions anither time.” - -“Very possibly, Sergeant. It does appear as if I had been a trifle -imprudent. I must curb my spirit of adventure, which has led me astray -before now. I nearly got shot in Spain through joining a band of -smugglers, they were such joyous dogs; and Manuela—ah! what eyes! what a -figure! It was rash, no doubt, I must ask for references, another time. -Ha! Ha!” - -Mr. Blount treated the escape which he perceived he had narrowly missed -of being hauled before the bar of justice, with apparent levity, but in -his own mind, he was conscious that affairs might have taken a -permanently disagreeable turn, and seriously compromised him socially, -however it ended. What would the Bruce family think of him? What could -Imogen believe? Either that he shared the ill-gotten gains of the -O’Haras and their associates, or that he was so inconceivably dense, and -unsuspicious that any amount of dishonesty might go on before his face, -without his being aware of it. On either assumption, he was between the -horns of a dilemma. Adjudged guilty of folly, or dishonesty. His -vexation was extreme. However, he exhibited no outward signs of remorse, -and concluded his visit by thanking the Sergeant for his information, -and begging him to join him at dinner if he had no lingering suspicion -of his moral character. - -“Na! na! I’d pit ma haill trust in thee, if matters luikit as black -again. The glint in thae grey ’een werena given thee for naught; we’ll -hae mair cracks before a’s said and done; the spring’s to be airly, I’m -thinking.” - -The season was more advanced than when Blount first entered Bunjil, the -warmer weather had made it apparent that “the year had turned.” The -meadow grasses had grown and burgeoned, the English trees always planted -near the older settlements in Australia, many of them the growth of half -a century, were nearly full leaved, putting to shame with their -brilliant colouring, and opulent shade, the duller hues of the primeval -forest. The water-fowl in flocks flew and dived and swam in the great -lagoons, which marked the ancient course of the river. The cattle and -horses browsing in the lanes and vacant spaces, were sleek of skin, and -fair to behold. All nature spoke of abundance of pasture. In this -fertile valley there was no hint of the scarcity, which once, at any -rate, within the recollection of men then living had been known to -overspread the land: when this very spot, now running over with -plenteousness, the vine, the olive, the fig, peaches, and plums, apples, -and pears, in full leaf and promise of fruit, was bare and adust, the -creek even dry, between the great water-holes, for half a mile at a -stretch. - -Mr. Blount on returning from his ride found a large assortment of -letters and newspapers awaiting him. Among them was a telegram marked -_Urgent_. This bore the postmark of a neighbouring colony and had been -forwarded by private messenger, at some expense. Thus ran the magic -message:—“Hobart, 20th. Come over at once. No delay. Great news. Credit -unlimited, Imperial Bank, Melbourne.” - -Walking straight into his bedroom, he threw the letters on to the -counterpane of his bed, and drawing forward a chair, proceeded to open -his correspondence seriatim. After noting date and signature, he -returned the greater portion of them to their envelopes, postponing -fuller examination to a more convenient season. The last two, which bore -the postmark of the nearest post-office to Marondah, he retained. Of its -name he was aware, having heard the ladies asking that the post-bag -should be delayed for a few minutes on account of their unfinished -letters. - -He did not linger over the first, addressed in a strong, clear, -masculine hand. There was no difficulty in mastering its tone and tenor. - - -“SIR,—I feel justly indignant that I should have extended hospitality to -a person who, while assuming the outward appearance of a gentleman, has -proved by his conduct to be unworthy of recognition as such. - -“As an associate of the O’Hara brothers and two others, who, under -pretence of mining, have in concert with a well-known gang of cattle -stealers, preyed on my herd and those of neighbouring stations, for the -last two years, you have laid yourself open to grave suspicion. I cannot -be expected to believe that you were, although a new arrival, so -unsuspicious as to have no knowledge of their dishonest ways. In a -stockyard near the claim, branding as well as concealment of stolen -cattle had been carried on. - -“You were present when I pointed out my E. H. B. bullock, on which a new -brand had been recently placed. You knew that I suspected dishonesty in -that neighbourhood. Was it not your plain duty to have informed me of -any suspicious proceedings? Not only did you fail to do so, but, while -accepting my hospitality, you suppressed the fact of your living as a -mining mate with the O’Hara brothers, and other suspicious characters, -as well as that the notorious ‘Little-River-Jack’ was a member of the -same precious company. I believe that warrants have been applied for at -the instance of one of my neighbours. Should you find that you are -included in the arrest, you will only have yourself to thank for -incredible folly, or criminal carelessness, as to the distinction -between _meum_ and _tuum_. - - “I remain, faithfully yours, - “E. HAMILTON BRUCE.” - - -“Very faithfully, indeed,” quoth the recipient of this plain-spoken -epistle. “Under the circumstances I don’t wonder at the wrath of this -Squire of the South. It is but too natural. Fancy a game-preserving -English country gentleman, discovering that a recent guest, free of -croquet and morning walks with his charming wife and daughters, had been -sojourning with poachers—partaking, peradventure, of his host’s own -stolen pheasants! ‘Six months’ hard’ would have been the least, and -lightest penalty, that he would have dropped in for, and but for having -a friend or two at court, or out of it, Valentine Blount, late of Her -Majesty’s F.O., by courtesy the Honourable, and so forth, might have -‘done time’ for the heinous offence of having concealed on his person -certain beefsteaks and portions of the ‘undercut’ for the possession of -which he could give no reasonable account—moreover defied the peace -officer to take them from him. This of course is bordering upon a joke, -and a very keen jest it was like to have been. Maybe yet, for all I -know. What d—d fools men are sometimes! This I take to be a feminine -superscription—the contents less logical, and perhaps—_perhaps_ -only—more emotional, and less lenient of sentence. I wonder what Mrs. -Bruce and the fair Imogen think of the agreeable stranger (I have been -thus described, ere now), who tarried within their gates. I feel -distinctly nervous, however.” - -Here Mr. Blount carefully opened the envelope, and was slightly -reassured by the “Dear Mr. Blount” which introduced the subject-matter. - -“We are afraid, Imogen and I, that Edward has written you an extremely -disagreeable, not to say threatening letter. He was furiously angry, -would hear neither reason nor explanation, when the O’Hara stockyard -mystery was unveiled. You _must_ confess that explanation _was_ -difficult, not to say embarrassing for your friends. _We_ are certain -that there has been some great mistake which needs clearing up without -delay. It will never do for you to lie under this accusation—false as we -believe it to be—of living with dishonest people, and with the knowledge -of their malpractices; of course, you may not know that no men are more -artful in hiding their true characters than our bush cattle and horse -thieves (or ‘duffers’) to use a vulgar expression. They are _not_ coarse -ruffians—on the contrary very well-mannered, hospitable, even polite, -when compared with the labourers of other lands; good-natured, and most -obliging, outside of their ‘profession.’ Indeed I heard a story from a -nice old priest, that visited our station, when I was a girl, which -explains much. A bushman was dilating on the noble qualities of a -comrade. ‘Jack’s the best-hearted chap going; good-natured? why, he’d -lend you his best horse, if you was stuck for one on the road. If he -hadn’t a horse handy, why, he’d _shake_ one for you, rather than let you -leave the place afoot!’ Of course the situation _looks_ bad, on the face -of it, but Imogen and I will _never_ believe anything against your -honour. You have a friend at court, perhaps two.” Besides this—there was -a tiny scrap inside the envelope, apparently pushed in _after_ the -letter had been closed. - -“Don’t believe you _knew_ anything.—IMOGEN.” - -Mr. Blount read this soothing epistle twice over and put away the scrap -in his pocket-book very carefully. Having done this, he sat down and -wrote hard until summoned to lunch, after which he packed up carefully -all his belongings, leaving out only such as might be wanted for an -early morning start. He was more grave than usual at that comfortable -meal, and it was with an effort that he replied to Sheila’s query -whether he’d received bad news. - -“Not bad, no! only important, which comes almost to the same thing. You -have to think over plans and make up your mind, perhaps, to start off at -a moment’s warning, which is always distressing.” - -“Oh! nonsense,” said Sheila, who seemed in better spirits than usual. “I -often wish I were a man; how I would wire in when there was anything to -do, even if it was only _half_ good. Men do too much thinking, I -believe. If they’d only ride hard at the fence, whatever it is, they’d -get over, or through it, and have a clear run for their money.” - -“But suppose they came a cropper and broke a leg, an arm, or their neck, -as I see one of your steeplechase riders did at Flemington the other -day, what then?” - -“Oh! a man must die some time,” replied the cheerful damsel, who looked -indeed the personification of high health, abounding spirits, and as -much courage as can be shown by a woman without indiscretion, “and you -get through nine times out of ten: the great thing is to go at it -straight. ‘Kindness in another’s woes, courage in your own,’ that’s what -Gordon says.” - -“Who is Gordon, may I ask?” - -“Why, Adam Lindsay, of course, our Australian poet. Haven’t you heard of -him? I thought everybody had.” - -“And do you read him?” - -“Yes. Every Australian man, woman, and child, if they’re old enough, -knows him by heart.” - -“I think I’ve caught the name. Was he born here?” - -“Is he dead? Perhaps you’ve heard of Mark Twain?” said Sheila -scornfully, who seemed to be in rather a reckless humour. “Well! he is. -No! he was not born here, more’s the pity, for he knows us cornstalks -better than we know ourselves. He was the son of a British officer, the -family’s Scotch. I’m half Scotch, that’s partly why I am so proud of -him. But it would have been all the same whatever country owned him. I -find my tongue’s running away with me, as usual—the unruly member, as -the Bible says. But you take my tip, Mr. Blount, ‘never change your mind -when you pick your panel’ (that’s Gordon again), it’s the real straight -griffin, with horse or man.” - -“This _is_ a wonderful country, and you’re a wonderful young woman. I -haven’t time to analyse you, just now, for my affairs, which I had -intended to treat to a short holiday, are conspiring to hurry me up. At -what hour can I leave in the morning?” - -“To-morrow?” said the girl, and her face changed. “You don’t mean to say -you’re going away to-morrow?” - -“Sorry to say I must; you saw that I got a telegram, and if I don’t -_clear_, as your people say, I may lose thousands, perhaps a fortune.” - -“The coach goes at six, sharp; and gets to the railway-station at the -same hour the next morning. You’d like breakfast first, I suppose?” - -“It’s too early to ask you to have it ready—anything will do.” - -“Oh! I daresay. You’ve had some decent meals here, haven’t you?” - -“Never better in my life.” - -“Well, you’ll go away to-morrow, fit and ready for as long a day’s work -as ever you did. It’s almost a pity you’re having the Sergeant to dine. -However, he’ll not stay late. I’ll send over and take your coach -tickets. You’d better have everything packed and ready this afternoon. -Cobb and Co. wait for nothing and nobody.” - -“There’s no doubt (Mr. Blount told himself) that the conditions of life -in Her Majesty’s colonies tend to the development of the individual with -a completeness undreamed of in our narrow and perhaps slightly -prejudiced insular life. What a difference there is between this young -woman and a girl of her rank of life in any part of Britain. What -energy, intelligence, organising power she has; I feel certain that she -could rally a wavering regiment on a pinch, drive a coach, ride a race, -or swim a river, in fact do all sorts of things, as well as, ay, better -than, the ordinary man. This is going to be a great country, and the -Australians a great people—arts of war and peace, and so on. How -good-looking she is, too,” concluding his reflections with this profound -observation, which showed that in spite of his subjective turn of mind, -the primary emotions still held sway. - -Mr. Blount betook himself to his packing with such concentration, that -by the time he had finished his letters, nothing remained of his -impedimenta, but such as could be easily carried out and packed in the -coach, while he was finishing a distinctly early breakfast. - -These said letters required much thought and preparation, it would -appear. First there was a vitally necessary answer to Mr. Bruce’s -warlike communication. To this he concluded to reply as follows: - - - “BUNJIL HOTEL, _September_—. - -“DEAR SIR,—While fully admitting that appearances are against me, I -think that you might with propriety have suspended judgment, if not -until the offences charged against me were proved, or, at least, until -you had heard my explanation, which I give seriatim. - -“No. 1. As a matter of fact, I did live with the O’Haras and two other -men on the ‘Lady Julia’ claim. They were hardworking, and well-conducted -miners. For all that I saw, they might have been the most honest men in -Australia. I knew that cattle were brought to the stockyard late, and -taken away early. I judged it to be the custom of the country, and -accepted their statement that they were bought and sold in the ordinary -way. I was cautioned not to go near the yard for fear of frightening -them. I did not see a brand, or look for one—nor should I have known its -significance if I had. As to the O’Haras, and their ‘mates,’ whatever -might have been their previous history, no men could have worked harder, -or more regularly; they could not have _actively_ assisted in the cattle -trade without my noticing it. - -“No. 2. That I did not inform you of my position in the claim. - -“It would certainly appear to have been my duty so to do under ordinary -circumstances, after I knew of your suspicions. But the circumstances -were _not_ ordinary. - -“And the question arises, Should I have been justified in betraying—for -that would have been the nature of the act—the _suspicious_, merely -suspicious circumstances, which I observed during my involuntary -comradeship with these men? I had eaten their salt, been treated with -respect, and in all good faith shared their confidences. Moreover—and -this is the strongest point in my defence—the man known as -Little-River-Jack—of his real name, of course, I am ignorant—certainly -_saved my life_, on the dizzy and narrow pass, known locally as ‘Razor -Back’—of that I feel as certain as that I am writing at this table. In -another moment, my frightened horse, unused to mountain travelling, -would have assuredly fallen, or thrown himself over the precipice, which -yawned on either side of him, while I was equally unable either to -control him or to dismount. By this bushman’s extraordinary quickness -and resource, I was enabled to do both. Was I to give information which -would have driven him into the hands of the police? - -“As a citizen, I may have been bound to assist the cause of justice. But -as a _man_, I felt that I could not bring myself to do so. - -“3. For the rest, I dissociated myself without more delay than was -absolutely necessary to collect my effects, and return the borrowed -horse, from such compromising company. I was offered my ‘share’—not a -very small amount—of the last gold won, but declined it, and riding -late, reached this hotel at midnight of the day we parted. I heard that -the senior constable of the nearest police station had instructions to -take out warrants for the persons referred to, including _myself_, but, -from some alleged defect in the evidence, that course was not persevered -with. - -“Circumstances (wholly unconnected with this unfortunate affair) compel -me to leave to-morrow morning for Tasmania. I have entered fully into -the ‘case for the defendant.’ If the jury consisting of yourself, with -your amiable wife and her sister—whose kindness I can never forget, and -on whose mercy I rely—do not acquit me of all evil intent, I can only -hope that time may provide the means of my complete rehabilitation. -Meanwhile I can subscribe myself with a clear conscience, - - “Yours sincerely, - “VALENTINE BLOUNT.” - - -Having with much thought, and apparent labour, concocted this -conciliatory epistle, of which he much doubted the effect, he commenced -another which apparently did not need the same strain upon the mental -faculties. This was addressed to Mrs. E. Hamilton Bruce, Marondah, Upper -Sturt, and thus commenced: - - -“DEAR MRS. BRUCE,—To say that for your kind and considerate letter I -feel most deeply grateful, would be to understate my mental condition -lamentably. After reading Mr. Bruce’s letter, it seemed as if the whole -world was against me; and, conscious as I was of entire innocence, -except of an act of egregious folly (not the first one, I may confess, -which a sanguine temperament and a constitutional disregard of caution -have placed to my account), my spirits were lowered to the level of -despair. There seemed no escape from the dilemma in which I found -myself. - -“I stood convicted of egregious folly, or dishonour, with the sin of -ingratitude thrown in. I could not wonder at the harsh tone of your -husband’s letter. What must he—what must you all—think of me? was the -inexorable query. Suicide seemed the only refuge. Moral _felo-de-se_ had -already been committed. - -“At this juncture I re-read your letter, for which I shall never cease -to bless the writer, and, may I add, the probable sympathiser? Hope -again held up her torch, angel bright, if but with a wavering gleam. I -regained courage for a rational outlook. I think I gave a sketch of my -imminent peril and the rescuer to Miss Imogen, as we rode away from -Marondah on that lovely morning. Her commentary was that it was not -unlike an incident in _Anne of Geierstein_, except that the heroine was -the deliverer in that case. We agreed, I think, in rating the book as -one of the best in the immortal series. - -“I have fully explained the position in which I stand, to Mr. Bruce in -my letter, which you will doubtless see, so I need not recapitulate. I -have been recalled on important business (unconnected with this -regrettable affair) to Hobart, for which city I leave early to-morrow. -Meanwhile, I trust that all doubts connected with my inconsistent -conduct will be cleared up with the least possible delay. - -“In which fullest expectation, - - “I remain, - “Very gratefully yours, - “VALENTINE BLOUNT.” - - -The writer of these important letters, after having carefully sealed -them, made assurance doubly sure by walking to the post-office, and -placing them with his own hands in the receptacle for such letters -provided. He further introduced himself to the acting postmaster, and -ascertained that all correspondence—his own included—which were -addressed to the vicinity of Bunjil, would be forwarded next morning -soon after daylight, reaching their destination early on the following -morning. “It’s only a horse mail,” said that official, “the bags are -carried on a pack-horse. But Jack Doyle’s a steady lad, and always keeps -good time—better, for that matter, than some of the coach-contractors.” - -The rest of Mr. Blount’s correspondence was apparently easily disposed -of, some being granted short replies, some being placed in a convenient -bag, and others unfeelingly committed to the flames. About the time when -the Sergeant and dinner arrived, Mr. Blount held himself to be in a -position of comparative freedom from care, having all his arrangements -made, and, except Fate stepped in with special malignity, everything in -train for a successful conclusion to a complicated, unsatisfactory -beginning. His city address was left with the acting postmaster -aforesaid; all letters, papers, &c., were to be forwarded to Valentine -Blount, Esq., Imperial Club, Melbourne. - -He would probably return in three weeks or a month; if not, full -directions would be forwarded by his agent. - -The dinner was quite up to the other efforts of the Bunjil Hotel _chef_, -an expatriated artist whom advanced political opinions had caused to -abandon “la belle France.” So _he_ said, amid the confessions, indirect -or otherwise, made during his annual “break-out.” But his cookery was -held to confirm that part of his statement, as well as a boast that he -had been _chef_ at the Hôtel du Louvre in Paris. Whatever doubt might be -cast on his statements and previous history, as related by himself, no -one had ever dreamed of disparaging his cookery. This being the case, -and the time wanting nearly three months to Christmas, which was the -extreme limit of his enforced sobriety, neither Mr. Blount nor any one -else could have complained of the banquet. - -Nor was “the flow of soul” wanting. The Sergeant was less didactic than -usual; he drew on his reminiscences more and more freely as the evening -grew late, and the landlord contributed his quota, by no means without -pith or point, to the hilarity of the entertainment. The Sergeant, -however, completely eclipsed the other _convives_ by a choice experience -drawn from his memory wallet, as he turned out that receptacle of “tales -of mystery and fear,” which decided the landlord and his guest to “see -him home” at the conclusion of the repast. - -This duty having been completed, Mr. Blount was moved to remark upon the -fineness of the night. It was certainly curiously mild and still. “Quite -like spring weather.” - -Mr. Middleton looked up and expressed himself doubtfully as to its -continuance. “It’s too warm to be natural, sir,” he said, “and if I was -asked my opinion, I’d say we’re not far from a burst up, either wind or -rain, I don’t say which, a good way out of the common. If you’re in a -hurry to get to Melbourne, you were right to take your passage by Cobb -and Co., or you might not get away for a week.” - -“I wouldn’t lose a week just now for a hundred pounds.” - -“Well, of course, it’s hard to say, but if the creeks and rivers come -down, as I’ve seen ’em in a spring flood, and we’re close on the time -now, there’ll be no getting to Warongah in a week, or perhaps a -fortnight on top of that. But I think, if you get off to-morrow morning, -you’ll just do it, and that’s all.” - -When they returned all traces of the symposium had been removed, and the -cloth laid ready for the early breakfast, which Blount trusted nothing -would occur to prevent him from consuming. - -On the plate at the head of the table, near the fire-place, was a -half-sheet of notepaper, on which was written in bold characters: - - -“DEAR SIR,—The groom will call you at five sharp, breakfast at 5.30. -Coach leaves at six. I’ve got you the box seat. - - “Yours truly, - “SHEILA.” - - -“That’s a fine girl,” said the landlord, “she’s got ‘savey’ enough for a -dozen women; and as for work, it’s meat and drink to her. The missus is -afraid she’ll knock herself out, and then we’ll be teetotally ruined and -done for. I hope she won’t throw herself away on some scallowag or -other.” - -“Yes! it would be a pity. I take quite an interest in her. But she has -too much sense for that, surely?” - -“I don’t know,” answered the landlord, gloomily, “the more sense a woman -has, the likelier she is to fancy a fool, if he’s good-looking, that’s -my tip. Good-night, sir. I’ll be up and see you off. Old George will -call you.” - -“Oh! I shall be up and ready, thank you.” - -The landlord, however, having exceptional opportunities of studying -human nature, warned old George to have the gentleman up at 5 a.m. -sharp, which in result was just as well. For Blount being too excited -from various causes to sleep, had tossed and tumbled about till 3 a.m., -when he dropped into a refreshing slumber, so sound that George’s -rat-tat-tat, vigorous and continued on his bedroom door, caused him to -dream that all the police of the district, headed by Mr. Bruce and Black -Paddy, had come to arrest him, and were battering down the hotel in -order to effect a capture. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - -A DIP in the creek, and a careful if hasty toilet, produced a complete -change of ideas. The morning was almost too fine, the leaves of the -great poplars were unstirred, which gave an unnaturally calm and eerie -appearance to the landscape. This was not dispelled by the red sun -shedding a theatrical glare over the snow-peaks and shoulders of the -mountain range. - -“My holiday’s over, Sheila!” said he, moving from the fire front to the -table upon which was such an appetising display that he wished he had -gone to bed a little earlier. However, the savour of the devilled turkey -reassured him, and he felt more drawn towards the _menu_ which was to -form the sustaining meal of the day. “Now, what do _you_ think of the -weather? Shall I have a safe journey to the station?” - -“Well, you may, and you may not, sir. We all think there’s a big storm -coming; if it’s wind, it may blow a tree down on the coach and horses; -if it rains hard, there’ll be a flood, which will rise the Kiewah and -the Little River in a few hours, so as they can’t be crossed under a -week.” - -“That’s a bad look out!” said the traveller, making good time with the -scrambled eggs and toast, which succeeded the devilled turkey, “but -we’ll have to go straight at it, as your friend and philosopher, Gordon, -has it. By the way, I bought a copy at the post-office store, so I can -read it on the way down and think of you when I come to the lines -‘Kindness in another’s trouble,’ and so on.” - -“Oh! I daresay,” replied the girl, “a lot you’ll think about me when -you’re on the road to Melbourne and wherever else you’re bound for. But -we’ll all remember _you_ here, never fear! And if you ever come back, -you’ll see how glad all hands will be to welcome you.” - -“_You’re_ only too good to me, but why should the other people have this -sort of feeling towards me?” - -“Well, one reason is that you never put on any side, as they call it. -You’ve been free and easy with them, without being too familiar. The -country people hereabouts, and in the bush generally, may be rough, and -haven’t seen much, but they know a gentleman when they see one, and -besides, there’s another reason—” And here she seemed to hesitate. - -“And what might that be?” - -“Well, it came out somehow, I don’t know how, that when you were -‘pinched’ (that is, nearly arrested and tried for being ‘in’ with the -O’Haras and Little-River-Jack in the cattle racket), that you wouldn’t -give them away; never let on that you’d been with them in the claim, or -seen cattle in their yard or anything.” - -“But, my dear Sheila! I heard nothing and saw nothing that the -town-crier at the market-place (is there one in this droll country, I -wonder?) might not have proclaimed aloud. I didn’t know there was any -‘cross’ work (is that right?) going on. I certainly guessed after I -visited Mr. Bruce that I might just as well not advertise the O’Haras, -and as Little-River-Jack certainly saved my life on Razor Back, how -_could_ I give him up to the law? Now, could I?” - -“Not as a gentleman, sir, I should say. I suppose Mr. Bruce is pretty -wild about it, after you being at his house and all that. He’s a fine -man, Mr. Bruce; all he’s got he’s earned. His brother and he worked like -niggers when first they came from home. Now they’re well off, and on the -way to be richer still. But no man likes to be robbed, rich or poor. -He’ll have Jack yet for this if he don’t mind, sharp as he is.” - -“Well, I suppose it serves him right.” - -“I suppose it does,” said the girl, hesitatingly; “but I can’t help -feeling sorry for him, he’s so pleasant and plucky, and such a bushman. -He can find his way through those Wombat Ranges, they say, the darkest -night that ever was, and drive cattle besides.” - - “‘’Tis pity of him, too, he cried, - Bold can he speak, and fairly ride,’ - -as the Douglas said about Marmion, who, though more highly placed than -poor Jack, was but indifferent honest after all. Do you read Walter -Scott?” - -“Well, I’ve read bits of the _Lady of the Lake_ and _Marmion_ too. We -had them to learn by heart at school. Only I haven’t much time to read -now, have I? It’s early up and down late. But you’d better finish your -breakfast; it’s getting on to six o’clock, and I see Josh walking down -to the stable.” - -“So I will; but tell me, how do you write out a receipt for a horse when -you’ve sold him?” - -“Oh! easy enough. ‘This is to certify that I have sold my bay horse, -branded “J. R.” (or whatever he is) to Job Jones for value received.’ -That’s enough; you’ve only to sign your name and put a stamp on.” - -“Nothing could be simpler. Get the landlord to receipt my bill while I -write out a cheque, and ask George if he’s put my saddle and bridle into -the coach.” - -The girl ran out. He wrote the cheque for the account, which he had seen -before breakfast. Then more carefully, a receipt for the cob in the name -of Sheila Maguire, in which he enclosed a sovereign. “Isn’t that your -side-saddle? Where’s your horse? You haven’t got one, eh? Why, I thought -every girl in this country had one.” - -“Mine got away; I’m afraid I’ll never see him again.” - -“What will you give me for the cob? he’s easy and safe if you don’t try -the Razor Back business with him?” - -“I wouldn’t mind chancing a tenner for him, sir.” - -“Would you, though? Well, I’ll take it. There’s the receipt. You can pay -me when I ask for it.” - -At that moment, the coachman having drawn on his substantial gloves, -mounted the box and called out “All aboard!” Mr. Blount pressed the -receipt and the sovereign into the girl’s reluctant hand, who came out -of the room with rather a heightened colour, while the driver drew his -lines taut as the passenger mounted the box and was whirled off, if not -in the odour of sanctity, yet surrounded with a halo (so to speak) of -cheers and good wishes. - -Once off and bowling along a fairly good road behind a team of four fast -horses, specially picked for leaving or approaching towns, a form of -advertisement for the great coaching firm of Cobb and Co. (then, as now, -famed for speed, safety and punctuality throughout the length and -breadth of Australasia), Mr. Blount’s spirits began to improve, keeping -pace, indeed, with the rising of the sun and his own progress. That -luminary in this lovely month of early spring was seen in his most -favourable aspect. - -The merry, brawling river, now rushing over “bars” gleaming with quartz -pebbles, the boom of the “water-gun,” the deep, reed-fringed reaches, in -which the water-fowl dived and fluttered, alike engaged the traveller’s -alert interest. The little river took wilful, fantastic curves, as it -seemed to him through the broad green meadows. Sometimes close-clinging -to a basaltic bluff, over which the coach appeared to hang perilously, -while on the other side was the mile-wide, level greensward, thickly -covered with grazing kine and horses. The driver, a wiry native from the -Shoalhaven gullies, was cheerful and communicative. - -He was in a position to know and enlarge upon the names and characters -of the different proprietors of the estates through which they passed. -The divisions were indicated by gates in the fences crossing the roads -at right angles, at which period Mr. Joshua Cable requested his -passenger to drive through while he jumped down and opened the gates and -shut them after the operation was concluded. As this business was only -necessary at distances varying from five to ten miles apart, the -stoppages were not serious; though in one instance, where the enclosure -was small and the number of gates unreasonably large, his temper was -ruffled. - -“D—n these gates,” he said; “they’re enough to ruin a chap’s temper. -They put up a new cross fence here—wire, too—since I was here last. This -is a bother, but when a man is driving by himself at night it’s worse. -And they can summons you, and fine you two pounds and costs for leaving -a gate open, worse luck!” - -“How do you manage then?” asked the passenger, all unused to seeing a -coach and four without groom or guard. - -“Well, it’s rather a ticklish bit of work, even with a pair, if they’re -at all touchy, as I’ve had ’em, many a time. You drive round before you -come to the gate and tie your leaders to the fence as close as you can -get ’em. I carry halters, and that’s the best and safest way; but if you -haven’t ’em with you, you must do the best you can with the lead reins. -You’re close enough to jump to their heads and muzzle ’em if they’re -making a move. No chance to stop four horses _after_ they’re off. When -you’ve opened the gate and driven through, you have to turn your team -back and let ’em stand with the leaders’ heads over the fence till -you’ve shut the gate. If it’s a gate that’ll swing back to the post, and -you’ve only a pair, you may manage to give it a shove just as it clears -the hind wheels, but it’s a chance. It’s a nuisance, especially at night -time and in rainy weather, but there’s nothing else for it, and it’s -best always to keep sweet with the owners of the property the road runs -through. Now we’ve five miles without a gate,” said Josh Cable as he led -his horses out and proceeded to make up time, with three horses at a -hand gallop, and the off-wheeler, a very fast horse, trotting about -fourteen miles an hour; “the road’s level, too. We’ll pull up in another -hour at the Horse and Jockey for dinner.” It may be explained that in -Australian road-travel, whatever may be the difference of climate, which -ranges indeed from sunshine to snow, the “dinner” so called, is the meal -taken at or about mid-day—an hour or two, one way or another, not being -regarded of importance. The evening meal at sundown, allowing for -circumstances, is invariably “tea,” though by no means differing in -essentials from the one at mid-day. It is at the option of the traveller -to order and pay extra for the orthodox “dinner,” with wine, if -procurable, as an adjunct. - -The Horse and Jockey Hotel was duly reached, the half-hour dinner -despatched, and, at sunrise, the railway station at Warongah reached, -into which, after a hurried meal, Mr. Blount was enabled to hurl himself -and luggage, the train not being crowded. Long before this hour he had -ample time to admire the skill used in driving on a road never free from -stumps and sidelings, creeks, and other pitfalls. Certainly the _seven_ -lamps, which he had never seen before on a coach, assisted the pilot’s -course, with the light afforded by the great burners, three on high -above the roof of the composite vehicle, a sort of roofed “cariole” -defended as to the sides by waterproof curtains; while four other lamps -gave the driver confidence, as they enabled him to see around and for -some distance ahead as clearly as in the day. - -In sixteen hours from the terminus Mr. Blount was safely landed per cab -at the Imperial Club, Melbourne, in which institution he enjoyed the -privileges of an honorary member, and was enabled to learn that the -_Pateena_ would leave the Queen’s Wharf at four o’clock p.m. next day -for Launceston. Here he half expected to have one or more letters in -answer to his appeal to the mercy of the Court as represented by Mrs. -Bruce and Miss Imogen, or its justice, in the shape of Edward Hamilton -Bruce of Marondah, a magistrate of the Territory. But none came. Other -epistles of no importance, comparatively; also a fiery telegram from -Hobart, “Don’t lose time. Your presence urgently needed.” So making -arrangements for his correspondence to follow him to the Tasmanian Club, -Hobart, he betook himself to the inter-colonial steamship, and at -bed-time was sensible that a “capful” of wind was vexing the -oft-turbulent Straits of Bass. - - * * * * * - -Hobart—the peaceful, the picturesque, the peerless among Australian -summer climates, whether late or early. Hither come no scorching blasts, -no tropical rains. Nestling beneath the shadow of Mount Wellington, -semi-circled by the broad and winding Derwent, proving by -old-fashioned—in many instances picturesquely ruinous—edifices, it -claims to be one of Britain’s earliest outposts. Mr. Blount, from the -moment of his landing, found himself in an atmosphere about as -peacefully secluded as at Bunjil. - -From this Elysian state of repose, he was routed immediately after -breakfast by the tempestuous entrance of Mr. Frampton Tregonwell, Mining -Expert and Consulting Engineer, as was fully set forth on his card, sent -in by the waiter. - -“Bless my soul!” called out this volcanic personage, as soon as he -entered the door which he shut carefully behind him. “You are a most -extraordinary chap! One would think you had been born in Tasmania, -instead of the Duchy of Cornwall, whence all the Captains of the great -mining industry have come from since the days of the Phœnicians and even -earlier. Lucky you picked up a partner who is as sharp, excuse me, as -you are—ahem—Blount!” - -“When I’m told what all this tirade is about, ending with an atrocious -pun, perhaps I may be able to reply,” answered the object of the attack, -complacently finishing his second cup of tea. - -“Did you get my telegram? Answer me that, Valentine Blount.” - -“I did, and have come over to this tight little island at great personal -inconvenience, as you may have observed, Mr. Tregonwell!” - -“Have you any recollection of our buying a half share in a prospecting -silver claim, of four men’s ground, in the West Coast?” - -“I do seem to recall some such transaction, just before I left for -Australia. All the fellows I met in the Hobart Club told me it was a -swindle, and advised me not to put a pound in it.” - -“That was the reason that you _did_ invest in it, if I know you.” - -“Precisely, I’ve rarely taken advice against my own judgment that I -haven’t regretted it. Did it turn out well?” - -“Well! Well? It’s the richest silver lode in the island, in all -Australasia—” almost shouted Tregonwell—“fifty feet wide; gets richer, -and richer as it goes down. I’ve been offered twenty thousand pounds, -cash down, for my half; you could get the same if you care to take it.” - -“I’ve a great mind to take it,” said Blount languidly “—mines are so -uncertain. Here to-day, gone to-morrow.” - -“Take it?” said his partner, with frenzied air, and trembling with -excitement, “_take_ it! Well!”—suddenly changing his tone—“I’ll give you -a drive this afternoon, capital cabs they have here, and the best horses -I’ve seen out of England. The way they rattle down these hills on the -metal is marvellous! We can’t start for the mine till to-morrow morning; -I suppose you’d like to see it? But if you’re determined to sell, I’d -like you to see a friend of mine first. He has a magnificent place a few -miles out. He’d be charmed to meet you, I’m sure.” - -“Certainly, by all means. What’s your friend’s name? Is he a squatter or -a fruit-grower? They seem to be the leading industries over here.” - -“Neither; he’s a medical man in large practice. His name is Macandrew. -Medical superintendent of the new Norfolk lunatic asylum.” - -“Well, really, Tregonwell, this is too bad,” answered the other partner, -roused from his habitual coolness. “Has it escaped your memory that -_you_ wished to sell out before I left for Australia, that I stuck to -the claim, and have been paying my share of expenses ever since?” - -“Quite true, old fellow; it was your confounded obstinacy and luck -combined, a sheer fluke, which has landed us where we are, not a -particle of judgment on either side; and now, then, let’s get through -business detail before lunch. I have it all here.” - -Mr. Tregonwell was a thoroughbred Cornishman, short, square set, and -immensely powerful. His coal-black, close-curled hair, with dark, -deep-set eyes, short, upright forehead, and square jaw proclaimed him a -“Cousin Jack” to all who had ever rambled through the picturesque Duchy, -or heard the surges boom on castle-crowned Tintagil. In one way or other -he had been interested in mines since his boyhood; had, indeed, delved -below sea level in those stupendous shafts in his native place of Truro. - -An off-shoot of a good old Cornish family, he had worked up to his -present position from a penniless childhood and a youth not disdaining -hard manual labour as a miner, when none better was to be had. This gave -him a more thorough knowledge of the underground world and its -inhabitants than he could otherwise have obtained. As a mining “Captain” -therefore, his reputation had preceded him from the silver mines of Rio -Tinto in Mexico and the great goldfields of California. A noted man in -his way, a type worthy of observation by a student of human nature, like -Valentine Blount, who, having added him to his collection, had drifted -into friendship, and a speculative partnership which was destined to -colour his after life. - -As there remained a couple of hours open to such a task before lunch, -the partners settled down to a “square business deal,” as Mr. Tregonwell -(who had possessed himself of trans-Atlantic and other idioms) phrased -it; in the course of which the following facts were elicited. That the -stone, in the first place accidentally discovered as an out-drop in one -of the wildest, most desolate, regions of the West Coast of Tasmania, -was the richest ever discovered in any reefing district “South of the -Line,” as Mr. Tregonwell magniloquently expressed it. On sinking, even -richer ore came to light, “as much silver as stone” in some of the -specimens. He, Tregonwell, had taken care to comply with the labour -conditions, and the necessary rules and regulations, according to the -Tasmanian Mining Act, in such case made and provided. He had satisfied -the Warden of their _bona fides_, and this gentleman had supported him -in all disputes with the “rush crowd” which, as usual under such -circumstances, had swarmed around the sensational find, as soon as it -was declared. Everything, so far, had been plain sailing, but there was -sure to be litigation, and a testing of their title on some of the -technical points of law which are invariably raised when the claim is -rich enough to pay the expenses of litigation. The great thing now was -to float the discovery into a company, exhibit the specimens in the -larger cities and in England, and offer half the property in shares to -the public. This was agreed to. Tregonwell, with practised ease, drew -out the prospectus, explaining the wondrous assays which had already -been made, the increasing body of the lode, its speculative value and -unrivalled richness as it descended to the hundred and fifty feet level. -The prospectors had invited tenders for a fifty head stamp battery to be -placed on the ground. Abundance of running water was within easy reach; -timber also, of the finest quality, unlimited in quantity. Carriage, of -course, in a rough, mountainous country, must be an expensive item. The -directors were anxious not to minimise the cost in any way, and all -statements might be regarded as absolutely truthful. The stone, if it -kept up quality and output, would pay for _any_ rate of carriage and the -most up-to-date machinery. When a narrow-gauge railway had been -completed to the Port, where the Company had secured wharf -accommodation, the transit question would be comparatively trifling. - -Mr. Blount retired for lunch to the hotel in which Tregonwell had -engaged rooms—a quiet, old-fashioned house of highly conservative -character, selected by his partner as specially adapted for privacy. The -family had inherited the business and the house from the grandfather, -who had made the business, and built the house in the early days when -the island was still known as Van Diemen’s Land. Mr. Polglase, whose -portrait in oils still ornamented the dining-room, in company with that -of Admiral Rodney, in whose flagship he had been a quartermaster, had -reached Tasmania in a whaler from New Zealand. - -The _Clarkstone_ having made a successful voyage, and Mr. Polglase’s -“lay” as first mate amounting to a respectable sum, he decided to quit -the sea, and adopt the more or less lucrative occupation of -hotel-keeping. In those days when the convict population outnumbered the -free, in the proportion of fifty to one, when the aboriginal tribes and -far more savage convict outlaws terrorised the settlers at a -comparatively short distance from Hobart, it was not altogether a -peaceful avocation. But Mark Polglase, a man of exceptional strength and -courage, who had enforced discipline and quelled mutiny among the -turbulent whaling crews hailing from Sydney Cove, was not the man to be -daunted by rioters free or bond. The small, but orderly, well-managed -inn soon came to be favourably known both to the general public and the -authorities, as a house where comfortable lodging was to be procured, -and, moreover, where a strict system of orderliness was enforced. When -the coaching system came to be developed, for many years the best in -Australasia, after admirable roads had been formed by convict labour, -the Lord Rodney was the headquarters of the principal firm. From the -long range of stabling issued daily in the after-time the well-bred, -high-conditioned four-horse teams, which did the journey between Hobart -and Launceston (a hundred and twenty miles) in a day. To be sure the -metalled road was perfect, the pace, the coaches, the method of driving, -the milestones even, strictly after the old English pattern. So that the -occasional tourist, or military traveller, was fain to confess that he -had not seen such a turn-out or done such stages since the days of the -Cottons and the Brackenburys. - -The pace was equal to that of the fastest “Defiance” or “Regulator” that -ever kept good time on an English turnpike road. Here the erstwhile -Cornish sailor settled himself for life. To that end he wrote to a young -woman to whom he had become engaged before he left Truro on his last -voyage, and sent her the wherewithal to pay her passage and other -expenses. She was wise enough to make no objection to a home on “the -other side of the world,” as Jean Ingelow puts it, and had no reason to -regret her decision. Here they reared a family of stalwart sons, and -blooming lasses—the latter with complexions rivalling those of -Devonshire. They married and spread themselves over the wide wastes of -the adjoining colonies, with satisfactory results, but never forgetting -to return from time to time to their Tasmanian home, where they could -smell the apple blossoms in the orchards and hear the bee humming on the -green, clover-scented pastures. - -The parents in the fulness of time had passed away, and lay in the -churchyard, near the Wesleyan meeting house, which the old man had -regularly attended and generously supported. But his eldest son, lamed -through an accident on a goldfield, reigned in his stead. He too had a -capable wife—it seemed to run in the family. So the name and fame of the -Lord Rodney remained good as of old. - -The prospectus and plan of operations being now regarded as “shipshape” -by Mr. Tregonwell, he proceeded to sketch the locality. “It’s an awfully -rough country—nothing you’ve ever seen before is a patch on it. We shall -have to walk the last stage. A goat could hardly find footing, over not -_on_, mind you, the worst part of the track. How Charlie Herbert, who -discovered the show, got along, I can’t think. He was more than half -starved, ‘did a regular perish,’ as West Australians say—more than once. -However it was a feat to brag about when he _did_ come upon it, as -you’ll see when we get there.” - -“Herbert’s in charge now, I suppose?” - -“Yes! he and his mate. You won’t find him far off, unless I’m handy. It -doesn’t do to leave such a jeweller’s window to look after itself. There -are two wages men, Charlie takes one and Jack Clarke the other, when -they work. They get lumps and lumps of ‘native silver’ worth £50 and £60 -apiece.” - -“Is it as rich as all that?” - -“Rich! bless your heart, nothing’s been seen like it since Golden Point -at Ballarat, and that was alluvial. This is likely to be as rich at 200 -feet as on top—and ten years afterwards—as it is now.” - -“We may call it a fortune, then, for us and the other shareholders.” - -“A fortune!” said Tregonwell, “it’s a dozen fortunes. You can go home -and buy half a county, besides marrying a duke’s daughter, if your taste -lies in the direction of the aristocracy.” - -“H—m—ha! I’m not sure that one need go out of Australia for the heroine -of this little romance.” - -“What! already captured!—that’s rapid work,” said his partner, throwing -himself into a mock heroic attitude. “You’re not a laggard in love, -whatever you may be in practical matters. However, it’s the common lot, -even I—Frampton Tregonwell—have not escaped unwounded.” Here he heaved a -sigh, so comically theatrical, that Blount, though in no humour to jest -on the subject, could not forbear laughing. - -“Whatever you may surmise,” he replied, “we have something more serious -to think about at the present time. After I have handled this wonderful -stone of yours, and knocked a few specimens out of the ‘face’—you see I -have gained some practical knowledge since we parted—then we can discuss -the plan of the future. In the meantime, I am with you to the scaling of -the ‘Frenchman’s Cap,’ if that forms any part of the programme.” - -The journeying by land or sea to Hobart had been comparatively plain -sailing. From Hobart to the west coast of Tasmania inaugurated a -striking change. The tiny steamer, _Seagull_, to which they committed -themselves for a thirty hours’ trip, was dirty, and evil smelling. The -shallow bar at Macquarie Harbour forbade a larger boat. Crowded also, -her accommodation was necessarily restricted. The twelve male passengers -had one cabin allotted to them. The women shared another, where berths -like those at a shearer’s hut were arranged at the sides. On a coast, by -no means well lighted, where no shelter from the fierce gales is found -nearer than the South Pole, the passage, performed at night, is -invariably a rough one. All honour is due to the hardy seamen commanding -the small coast fleet. They lose no time on the trip—overladen with -freight, more also to follow—full passenger lists for a month in -advance. That there are not more accidents seems a miracle to the -passenger, as they thread their course in and out, among the numberless -islands and frequent reefs, with marvellous accuracy. Tregonwell, who -was half a sailor, by reason of his manifold voyages, was loud in -admiration. - -“The skipper _must_ chance it, now and then,” he remarked, “but he -doesn’t show it, and certainly will not confide in the ordinary -passenger.” They bumped on the bar at Macquarie Harbour, and also had a -narrow escape at “Hell’s Gates,” formed by the rocky point which runs -abruptly northward. They touched bottom in the double whirlpool formed -by the island in the very jaws of the current, where the heavy seas -breaking over the tiny _Seagull_ would not have taken long to turn her -into matchwood. Here the skipper showed himself resourceful in such -trifling matters. Rough though the water, and dark the night, a man -would dash along a spar, laying out a sail to keep her head straight, or -bring her round, if broadside on and steering way was lost. Then “full -speed astern” perhaps, when not being jammed in too tightly, she glided -back into smooth water, ready for another attempt. In an hour, however, -the tide rose until the requisite depth of water, in the harbour bar, -enabled them after the grim, ghostly night, to glide up the smooth -surface of Macquarie Harbour. - -It was early morning. They looked out on a sea of mist, walled in by -basaltic cliffs, wherein Mounts Heemskirk and Zeehan kept watch over -that dreary, wreck-lined coast. - -Declining breakfast on board, Messrs. Blount and Tregonwell made for the -chief “hotel” of the Macquarie Harbour township, where on a clean white -beach, a friendly host, with comely daughters, made them welcome to an -excellent meal. - -What a change from the days when a few fishermen or prospectors -constituted the entire population! - -Strahan was now crowded with eager, anxious men, all of whom had money -to spend. Vessels were arriving all day long—sailing craft, as well as -steamers, loaded with supplies of all kinds, for the “silver field” of -Zeehan, so named after one of the vessels of Abel Tasman. - -It was a scene of hopeless confusion, as far as the freighting was -concerned. Mining machinery, groceries, drapery, blankets, axes, picks -and shovels were all dumped upon the sand, with scant ceremony and no -regularity. - -Day after day they had been passing historic landmarks, were actually on -the scene of Marcus Clarke’s great novel, _His Natural Life_. They could -afford to wait: “Hell’s Gates” lay behind them. - -In the distance rose “The Isle of the Dead,” to which they promised -themselves a visit some day, with a ramble among the ruined -prison-houses, where so many tortured souls had languished. - -One pictured the wretched officers in charge. How dull and aimless their -lives! Small wonder if they grew savage, and vented the humours, bred of -_ennui_ and isolation, upon the wretched convicts. - -The walls of the little stone church are standing still. Tregonwell had -camped there for a few days once, with some fishermen, shooting ducks at -night, and fishing in the long, still, silent days. What a lonely place -for men to be stationed at! The interminable forest walled it in on all -sides, to the very shore. They pulled for miles up the Gordon River, a -grand and picturesque stream, but the land on either bank was absolutely -barren of herbage. Nothing grew for miles but the unfriendly jungle of -undergrowth, above which waved the mournful pines and eucalypts of the -dark impenetrable forest. The distracted owners toiled and wrangled to -separate their goods from the ill-assorted mountain of heterogeneous -property. - -After that, came the more important question of carriage to the rich, -but ill-ordered mining camp of Zeehan, where, of course, showy wooden -edifices, of calico, or hessian architecture were being erected. The -land transit was wholly dependent upon pack horses and a few mules. -Drays and waggons were then unknown on that coast. The roads were bad -for pedestrians, utterly impassable for wheel traffic. The busiest men -were the Customs officers, stationed to watch the goods shipped from -other colonies, and to collect the duties exacted thereon. Forwarding -agents also had a careworn look. In the midst of the turmoil, a -pretentious two-storied hotel was being run up. Stores and warehouses -rose like mushrooms from the rain-soaked, humid earth, while town -allotments were sold, and resold, at South Sea Bubble prices. - -By dint of Mr. Blount’s persuasive powers, now fully exerted, and -Tregonwell’s abnormal energy, conjoined with reckless payments, they saw -their personal luggage strapped on to a horse’s back, and confided to a -packer, who started with them, and contracted to deliver it when they -arrived on the following day. - -They thus commenced the fifteen mile walk to Trial Bay. This was the -nearest port. It lacked, however, any description of harbour, shelter, -or roadway. Small craft could deliver freight in fine weather. - -The pedestrians carried their blankets and a change of underclothing. -That was the recognised fashion on the West Coast. If men didn’t start -in the rain, they were certain to be wet through before long. Mr. Blount -was pleased to admit that their day of commencement was fine; more -grateful still to see Trial Bay the same night. Their condition was -fairly good, the walking distinctly heavy. A few miles of sandy beach, -then came the track through the bush proper. - - * * * * * - -Now commenced the stern realities of the expedition, necessary before -Mr. Blount could have personal cognisance of his strangely acquired -property. After some experience of the forests which lay between Bunjil -and the “Lady Julia” claim, he had thought himself qualified to judge of -“rough country.” To his astonishment, he found that all previous -adventure had given him no conception of the picture of dread and awful -desolation which the Tasmanian primeval wilderness presented. The -gigantic, towering trees, (locally known as Huon River pines), the awful -thickets, the rank growth of a jungle more difficult to pass through, -than any he had known or realised, contributed an appalling _carte du -pays_. The peculiarity of this last forest path was, that without a -considerable amount of labour being expended upon it, it was impassable -for horses, and not only difficult but dangerous for men. The -“horizontal scrub,” locally so termed, was the admixture of immense -altitudes of forest timber, with every kind of shrub, vine, and -parasitic undergrowth. Stimulated by ceaseless rain it hid even the -surface of the ground from the pedestrian’s view. For centuries, the -unimpeded brush-wood beneath the gigantic forest trees, which, shooting -upwards for hundreds of feet, combined by their topmost interlacing of -branches to exclude the sunlight, had fallen rotted, and formed a -superincumbent mass, through which the traveller, passing over a filled -up gully, once falling through the upper platform, so to speak, might -sink to unknown depths. From these indeed, a solitary wayfarer might -find it difficult, if not impossible, to return. - -“What a track!” exclaimed Blount, toilsomely wading through waist-high -bracken, and coming to a halt beside a fallen forest giant, eight feet -in diameter, and more than two hundred feet to the first branch. “It -ought to be a prize worth winning that tempts men to penetrate such a -howling wilderness. Hardly that indeed, for there’s an awful silence: -hardly a bird or beast, if you notice, seems to make known its presence -in the ordinary way.” - -“I heard this region described by an old hand as exclusively occupied by -shepherds, blacks, bushrangers, tigers and devils,” replied Tregonwell. -“The blacks killed the shepherds, who in their turn harboured the -bushrangers, when they didn’t betray them for the price set on their -heads. The ‘tigers’ and ‘devils’ (carnivorous marsupials) killed the -sheep and occasionally the sheep-dogs. They were the only other -inhabitants of this quasi-infernal region.” - -“_Facilis descensus_, then, is another quotation which in this land of -contradictions has come to grief. I suppose we ought to try and cross -this sapling which bars our path?” - -“I will go first,” said Tregonwell, “and report from the other side,” -and he prepared to climb the huge and slippery trunk. - -The outward appearance of Mr. Blount had undergone a striking and -material change, from the days of Bunjil, and even of the “Lady Julia” -alluvial claim. A blue serge shirt, considerably torn, even tattered -from encounters with brambles, had replaced the Norfolk jacket and tweed -suit. His gaiters were mud-covered to the knees. His boots, extra-strong -and double-soled, were soaked and wrenched out of shape. To add to his -“reversal of form,” he carried on his back a heavy “swag,” in which -under a pair of coarse blue blankets, all his worldly goods immediately -indispensable were packed. - -“This is something like ‘colonial experience,’” said he. With a slight -twist of the shoulders, and a groan expressive of uneasiness, he shifted -the weight of the burden. “I never carried a swag before, though now I -come to think of it, our knapsacks of the old days on walking tours were -much the same thing, though more aristocratically named. This confounded -thing seems to get heavier every mile. There is a touch of John Bunyan -about it also.” - -The partners found Trial Bay in a worse muddle than Strahan. Tents had -been pitched everywhere; men were working hard to get their own and -other peoples’ loading away. - -The small inn was in the usual independent state that obtains when there -is too much custom. “They could sleep there, if they had luck,” said the -landlord airily, but “he didn’t know as there was any beds vacant.” -Accommodation for the travelling public was a secondary matter, in his -estimation. The bar paying enormous profits, was filled to overflowing -the whole day through—the night also. Here Tregonwell’s colonial and -other experience stood him in good stead—an all-round “shout” or two, -combined with an air of good fellowship, and judicious _douceurs_ to the -maid-servants, resulted finally in permission to sleep in No. 5—which -haven of rest, after a South African sort of meal, largely supported by -“bully beef,” the tired partners bestowed themselves. After forcibly -ejecting several volunteer bedfellows, they slept more or less soundly -until daylight. - -Certainly no fitter habitat could have been chosen for the desperate -irreclaimable convicts, who alone were exiled there. The dense, gloomy, -barren forests provided sustenance neither for man nor beast. - -No birds—no animals—with one exception, the so-called “badger” (or -wombat) which was snared, and eaten by the convicts. The endless rain, -priceless in other lands, was valueless here, save to change the mood of -the outcast from depression to despair. - -The Gordon River pine is the most valuable of the enormous growth of -timber in proximity to its banks; a beautiful, soft, red wood, not -unlike the cedar of Australia. It can be split into excellent palings -and will, fortunately, burn well, either in a wet or dry state. The -dense undergrowth, closely intertwined with climbers, renders it -impossible even for a man to get through, unless with an axe to clear -his way before him. And the locally named “horizontal scrub” is a study -in forestry. - -It is possible to progress for a quarter of a mile at a stretch, without -being nearer the ground than eighteen or twenty feet. This curious -shrub, growing as it does at a considerable angle less than forty-five -degrees, with its intertwined branches made the jungle all but -impenetrable. A stage of fifteen miles was no child’s play therefore, -and meant a hard day’s work for strong men, if unused to walking. Even -slow walking on the Corduroy, demoralised by the heavy traffic, was -exasperating. Many logs were missing altogether. This meant extra danger -for the pack-horses and mules. These horses were wonderfully sure-footed -and sagacious. Though carrying two hundred pounds (dead weight too) they -were fully as clever at this novel species of wayfaring as the mules. -The pack tracks were cleared just wide enough for the animals to travel -in single file—and with the exception of a few places they could not get -off them, as the forest timber, with dead wood and undergrowth, was -impossible for any horse to get through, until a track was cut. - -No deviations were possible; in a climate where the rainfall was ninety -inches per annum, one could imagine into what a condition these tracks -would get. - -From time to time a pack horse would sink down behind, irretrievably -bogged. In such a case he would wait patiently, knowing that struggling -made matters worse, until the packer and his mate came to his -assistance. They would lever him up with poles, and whenever they -shouted, he would make his effort. - -Sometimes they would unload, to give him a chance to extricate himself. -Then the packs were put on again, and a general start made. Such men -would probably have ten or twelve horses and mules walking loose—often -with not even a bridle on. - -The charge made was at the rate of threepence a pound—roughly -twenty-five pounds a ton—from Strahan to the “field,” in those early -days. The only variation from the dense forest was that of the “button -grass” country. This was composed of open flats covered with a tufted -plant, similar to the Xanthorrhea or grass tree—only wanting the -elongated spear-like seed stalk. No animal eats the button grass; it is -worthless for fodder alive or dead. - -What sights on the road they saw! Men and boys, with an odd woman or -two, struggling through the mud in the soaking, drizzling rain! Men -wheeling barrows with their tools, swags and belongings generally. Men -harnessed to small carts, tugging them along. Four Germans drew a small -wheeled truck, which they had made themselves, and a staunch team they -were. So practised had some of the early prospecting parties become that -(Tregonwell said) they plied a paying trade of packing on _their own -backs_ to outside claims, where pack tracks for horses had not yet been -cut. These men would carry from eighty to a hundred pounds, walking the -journey of thirty miles in two days. The charge was a shilling a pound. -They would walk back “empty” in one day. If it seemed high pay, it was -hard work. Climbing hills of fifteen hundred feet and going down the -other side with that crushing weight of bacon or flour taxed a man’s -strength, condition and pluck. Tregonwell said you could always pick out -the packers in a crowd after they had been a year or two at it. They -invariably “stood over” at the knees, like old cab horses, from the -strain of steadying themselves down hill with heavy weights up. - -“Many a time, when the field first opened” (said Tregonwell), “have I -walked beside one of these men the day through, carrying only my -blankets and a change, not weighing more than fifteen pounds; my packer -companion would carry his fifty to eighty pounds up the long hills with -comparative ease, passing me, if I didn’t look out, pulling up, too, -quite fresh at night, while I could scarcely stagger into camp; yet I -could outdo, easily, any other amateur on the field.” - -Some original inventions Blount noted outside of his gradually extending -colonial experience. Each camp had a “fly” pitched permanently over the -fire-place to keep the endless rain from putting it out. “Kindling” wood -was kept under this fly, so that it was always in readiness. After the -fire was well started, green or wet wood could be put on and would burn -well. - -Tregonwell, having once started, said that he soon got into form, -improving in pace and condition daily. He expatiated on the keen -enjoyment of the hot meal at the end of the day’s journey, rude as might -be the appliances and primitive the cookery. The meal was chiefly -composed of tinned meat, stewed or curried, with bacon added for -flavour; and freshly-made damper, or “Johnny cakes,” to follow. The -change of garments was to dry pyjamas, with a blanket wrapped round the -wearer. - -It was, he stated, a luxurious, half-tired, languorous but -fully-satisfied feeling, the sensation of mind and body essential to the -fullest enjoyment of tobacco. Then the yarns of the old prospectors, -grizzled, sinewy, iron-nerved veterans! Where had they not been? -California in ’49, Ballarat in ’51, pioneers of Lambing Flat, at the big -rush, Omeo, Bendigo, New Zealand, West Coast, 25,000 men on the field in -a week; those were the times to see life! Queensland, Charters Towers, -Gympie, New Guinea, the Gulf, ah! “This Zeehan racket’s a bit of a -spirt; but talk of mining! It’s dead now, dead, sir, and buried. Those -were the days!” The dauntless pioneer fills another pipe and falls into -a reverie of cheap-won gold, reckless revelry, wherein perils by land or -sea, danger, ay, and death, would seem to have been inextricably -mingled. - -A strange race, the prospectors, _sui generis_. Hardly a spot on the -globe was there which these men had not searched for the precious -metals. Distance, climate, are nothing, less than nothing, in their -calculations, once let the fact be established of a payable silver or -gold “field.” Landing in Australia in the early fifties, they had worked -on every field before mentioned, and are still ready to join the rush -for any country under heaven should gold happen to “break out.” -Klondyke, Argentina, South Africa, all equally eligible once the ancient -lure is held out. They often put together a few thousand pounds in the -early days of a rich goldfield, their wide experience and boundless -energy making some measure of success certain. They may not drink, but -all live luxuriously, even extravagantly, while the money lasts, -possibly for a few years, then go back to their roving, laborious life. -They generally make enough on each field to carry them to the ends of -the earth, if necessary, and it is mostly so from their point of view. -When funds are low, they can, and do, live cheaply; will work hard and -do long journeys on the scantiest fare. Natural bushmen, often -Australian-born; from this type of man, above all others, a regiment -might be formed of “Guides” or “Scouts,” ready to fight stubbornly in -any war of the future; would hunt, harry, and run to earth De Wet, or -other slippery Boer, if given the contract and a “free hand.” - -Harking back to his experiences—“That wild West Coast,” continued -Tregonwell, “was a place to remember—the wooded ranges piled one upon -another, as far as eye could reach, in shape, height, timber, or -colouring hardly differing in any essential particular; yet the noted -prospectors never lost themselves. Stopping for weeks at a likely -‘show,’ as long as the bacon and flour held out, they avoided all -settlements or mining centres on the way. The first prospector, George -Bell, carried a lump of galena of forty pounds’ weight in his swag right -through from Zeehan to Mount Bischoff. For a distance of fifty miles he -went straight between the two points without a road or track being cut -for him.” - -When the partners arrived at Zeehan, it certainly appeared to Mr. Blount -a place of peculiar and unusual characteristics. The excitement was -naturally great; stores, hotels, dwellings, lodging-houses going up in -all directions. Timber was plentiful to excess, luckily such as split -into slabs and palings easily. - -Tents were beginning to be voted hardly equal to so vigorous a climate. -No one, however, stayed under cover for that reason. They were wet all -day and every day, but the rule was to change into dry things at night. -No harm, strange to say, came to anybody. There was less sickness, -certainly less typhoid, on that field than any since reported. - -Less, certainly, than at Broken Hill and the West Australian Goldfields. -The hotels, quickly run up, were rough both in appearance and -management. About fifty men slept in the billiard room for the first few -nights. Then, as their importance as “capitalists” began to be -recognised, beds were allotted. Over these they had to mount guard for -an hour or more before bedtime, as a rule, or else to “chuck out” the -intruder. Here the personal equation came in. The landlord had no time -to support the legal rights of his guests. He merely went so far as to -allot each man a bed. He had to keep it and pay for it. - -The term “capitalist” on a mining field is understood to apply to people -with money of their own, or substantial backers who are prepared to pay -down the deposit on mines, sufficiently developed or rich enough to -“float”; worth securing the “option” of purchase for a month, so as to -give time to raise the necessary funds. - -The Tregonwell party had secured the “fancy show” of the field (_i.e._, -the next richest in reputation to the Comstock) by promptness in -agreeing to all the owner’s conditions, as he named them, thus giving -him no chance to change his mind. Other offers had been made from Hobart -and elsewhere. However, they paid a liberal deposit, and, after -thoroughly sampling and examining the ore body, agreed to float the mine -in a fortnight. Very short terms! Also to place £10,000 to its credit as -a working capital, and to give the owner £5,000 cash as well as a -certain number of shares. - -They knew the market, however, and their business. Tregonwell _walked_ -to Strahan in a day and a half, being then in high condition, and got -off to Hobart by steamer that night. Had the transfers signed and -registered in the Mines Department in his name, subject to the -conditions being fulfilled. Wired to their Melbourne brokers, and in -twenty-four hours the shares were applied for three times over, and the -stock quoted at a premium. It seems easy, but such is not always the -case. The boom must be on. The buyers must be well known to the public -as having the necessary experience, and being reliable on a cash basis. - - * * * * * - -A shout from a tall, well-dressed man—comparatively, we may say—greets -them at the long-desired camp. He comes forward and shakes hands with -Tregonwell, more heartily than even the occasion demands, it would seem. - -“By Jove! old fellow. I _am_ so glad to see you. Would have sent a line -to Hobart to hurry you up, if I could have found a man to take it. But -most of the fellows have gone to Marble Creek, so we’re a small -community. But we’re forgetting our manners. Introduce me.” - -“Mr. Valentine Blount, permit me to present Mr. Charles Herbert, one of -our partners. You mustn’t swear at the place, the roads, the climate, -the people, or anything belonging to Tasmania, as it’s his native land, -to which he is deeply attached. In all other respects he may be treated -as an Englishman.” - -“He certainly looks like one,” said Blount, glancing over the fine -figure and regular features of the tall, handsome Tasmanian. “If the -other gentleman who makes up the syndicate is a match for him, we should -be an efficient quartette.” - -“Clarke is a light-weight,” said Tregonwell, “but as wiry as a dingo, -besides being the eminent mining expert of the party (of course, when -I’m away); but he’s perhaps more up to date, as when he went to -California he learned the latest wrinkles in silver-mining. He’s rather -an invalid at present, having jarred his right hand with a pick, and -sprained his left ankle in taking a walk through this ‘merry greenwood,’ -as old writers called the forest.” - -“I thought I had seen some rough country in New South Wales,” said -Blount, “but this tops anything I have ever seen or indeed heard of, -except an African jungle.” - -“Climate not quite so bad, no fever yet,” replied Herbert, “but can’t -say much for the Queen’s Highway. However, the silver’s all right, and -where that’s the case, anything else follows in good time. But, come -inside—no horses to want feeding, luckily, as the oats which came in -advance, cost a guinea a bucket.” - -So saying, he led the way to a small but not uncomfortable hut, at one -side of which a fire of logs was blazing in a huge stone chimney. The -walls of this rude dwelling were composed of the trunk of the black fern -tree, placed vertically in the ground, the interstices being filled up -with a compost of mud and twigs, which formed a wind and waterproof -wall, while it lasted. On one of the rude couches lay a man, who excused -himself from rising on the score of a sprained ankle. - -“It’s so confoundedly painful,” he said, “that even standing gives me -fits. Of all the infernal, brutal, God-forsaken holes, that ever a man’s -evil genius lured him into, this is the worst and most villanous. In -California, the Tasmanians and Cornstalks were looked on as criminals -and occasionally lynched as such, but you _could_ walk out in daylight -and were not made a pack-horse of. If I were this gentleman, whom I see -Tregonwell has enticed here under false pretences, I should hire a -Chinaman to carry me back to Strahan, and bring an action against him as -soon as I reached Hobart.” - -“I’m afraid he’s delirious, Mr. Blount,” said Herbert, soothingly, “and -as he’s lost a leg and an arm, so to speak, we can’t hammer him at -present, but he’s not a bad chap, when he’s clothed and in his right -mind. In the meantime, as a fellow-countryman, I apologise for him.” - -“Don’t believe a word these monomaniacs tell you, Mr. Blount,” said the -sufferer, trying to raise himself on one arm, and subsiding with a -groan. “Herbert’s an absurd optimist, and Tregonwell—well, we know what -Cousin Jacks are. However, after supper, I daresay I shall feel better. -Do you happen to have a late paper about you?” - -“Several,” said Blount, “which I hadn’t time to read before we left, -including a _Weekly Times_.” - -“In that case,” said the pessimist, “I retract much of what I have said. -I have read everything they have here, and thought I was stranded in the -wilderness without food, raiment, or _pabulum mentis_. Now I descry a -gleam of hope.” - -“I brought a packet of wax candles,” observed Blount. “Thought they -might be useful.” - -“Useful!” cried the invalid, “you have saved my life, they are -_invaluable_. Fancy having to read by a slush lamp! Mr. Blount, we are -sworn brothers from this hour.” - -“For Heaven’s sake let us have supper,” interposed Tregonwell. “Is the -whisky jar empty? I feel as if a nip would not be out of place, where -two tired, hungry, muddy travellers are concerned.” - -“Not quite so bad as that,” replied Herbert, who had been spreading tin -plates and pannikins over the rude table on trestles, with corned beef -in a dish of the same material, and baker’s bread for a wonder. A -modicum of whisky from the jar referred to was administered to each one -of the company, prior to the announcement of supper. - -When the primitive meal had been discussed with relish, Mr. Jack Clarke -considered himself sufficiently restored to sit up against the wall of -the hut, and begin at Mr. Blount’s newspapers with the aid of one of -that gentleman’s wax candles in a bottle, by way of candlestick. The -others preferred to sit round the fire on three-legged stools provided -for such purpose, and smoke, carrying on cheerful conversation the -while. - -The discovery of the Comstock as a deeply interesting subject, commended -itself to Mr. Blount; so Tregonwell persuaded Herbert, who was the -pioneer, to sketch the genesis of this famous property, destined to -exercise so important an influence on their future lives. - -“Come, Charlie,” said he, “you’re the real prospector, Clarke wouldn’t -have gone into it but for you, and I shouldn’t have taken a share but -for Blount, who knew nothing about mines, having just come from England. -I wanted to chuck it, but Blount, who is obstinate (not a bad virtue, in -its way), determined, for that very reason, to stick to it. - -“So he paid his share of the expenses, went away, met all kinds of -adventures and all sorts and conditions of men—with, of course, a girl -or two, not wholly unattractive, and forgot all about it. I kept an eye -on it, so did Charlie; complied with the labour condition, kept up the -pegs, according to the Act, did a little work now and then. And now, -Charlie! it’s your turn.” - -Mr. Herbert put down his pipe carefully and began the wondrous tale. -“You know I was always fond of mooning about—wallaby-shooting, fishing, -and collecting birds and plants in mountain country. We had a sheep -station on the edge of this horizontal scrub country in old times; and I -used, when I had leave, to get away and spend a week or two of my -Christmas holiday there. One of the shepherds was a great pal of mine. -Like many of the prisoners of the Crown in old days, he had been -transported wrongfully, or for very slight offences (as much to get rid -of Britain’s surplus population as for any other reason it really would -seem). He was fairly educated, and was a very decent, well-behaved old -chap, with a taste for geology and minerals. - -“When his sheep were camped in the middle of the day I would find out -his flock, and we would boil the billy and have lunch, with ever so much -talk. - -“‘Look here, Master Charles!’ he said one day, as he took out a dull, -grey-looking stone from his ‘dilly bag,’ ‘do ye know what that is?’ I -did not, and like most youngsters of my age, looked upon it as rubbish, -and showed that I would rather have had a shot at one of the ‘tigers’ or -‘devils’ that came every now and then and killed the sheep at the -stations than all the silver ore in the country. - -“‘It’s silver ore,’ said he in a solemn voice; ‘and there’s enough where -that came from to buy all your father’s stations ten times over, if I -could only find my way back to the place where I found it.’ - -“‘And why can’t you?’ said I; ‘you know all the country round here.’ - -“The old man looked very sad, and pointed out towards the Frenchman’s -Cap, which was just being covered with mist, while a heavy shower began -to fall, and a thunderstorm roared and echoed among the rocks and caves -of the ‘Tiers,’ at the foot of which we managed to get shelter. - -“‘It was a strange day and a strange sight I saw when I picked up this -slug,’ he said. ‘I was never nearer losing my life!—but I’ll tell you -all about it another day. You’d better get back to the station now, or -you’ll get wet through, and maybe catch cold, and then the master won’t -let you come here again.’ - -“So I was obliged to leave the telling of the story to another day. I -forgot all about the silver ore, and, chiefly remembering the strange -part of the story, was determined to hear about it from the old man -another day. - -“It was the late spring-time when we had this talk, old Chesterton and -I; but a month or so afterwards I got a holiday, and as the weather was -warm and fine I cleared out to his out station, and never rested till I -bailed up the old man for another yarn. It is sometimes hot in the -island, though you mightn’t think so.” - -“Don’t believe him,” growled Mr. Clarke; “it’s a popular error. The -seasons have changed. Listen to that!” The rain was certainly falling -with a sustained volume, which discredited any references to warmth and -sunshine. - -“However,” continued Herbert, paying not the slightest attention, -“remember, it was at the end of the Christmas holidays, and the rocks -felt red hot; there had been bush fires, but the young feed, such as it -was, was lovely and green. The air was clear, the sky for once hadn’t a -cloud on it, and the old man was in a wonderful good humour for a -shepherd. - -“‘Well, Master Charles,’ he said, ‘if ye must have it, ye must. I don’t -know that it can do you any harm, though it kept me awake for weeks -afterwards, and every time the dog barked I felt my heart beat like, and -would wake me up all of a tremble. Well, to come to the story, I was -sitting on a log half asleep with the sheep camped quiet and comfortable -under a big pine, when I heard my old dog growl. He never did that for -nothing, so I looked up, and the blood nearly froze in my veins at what -I saw. It wasn’t much to scare the seven senses out of me, but I knew -how I stood. - -“‘A man and a woman were coming down a gully from the direction of the -mountain; they were near enough to see me, and it was no use making a -bolt of it. I should only lose my life. Anyhow, I couldn’t leave the -flock. I should get flogged for that. No excuse was taken for anything -of that sort in those days. Following the man was a young gin with a lot -of things on her back as if they had been shifting camp. She was much -like any other black girl of her age, sixteen or thereabouts, maybe -less; they grow up fast and get old fast, too, specially when they are -worked hard, beaten, and brutally treated, as most of them are, and this -one certainly was. Poor Mary! The man had no boots, and his trousers -were ragged, he was mostly dressed in kangaroo skins, and had a fur cap -on. - -“‘He had a long beard down to his chest; his black hair fell in a mat -over his shoulders. He carried a double-barrelled gun, and had a belt -with a pouch in it round his waist. He looked like the pictures of -Robinson Crusoe, but I didn’t feel inclined to laugh when he came close -up and stared me in the face. I had seen, ay, lived with criminals of -all sorts since I first came to Tasmania, but such a savage, -blood-thirsty-looking brute as the man before me, I had never come -across before. He saw that I was afraid; well I might be—if he had shot -me there and then, it was only what he had done to others. With a -fiendish grin that made him, if possible, more beast-like in appearance, -he said: “Did ye ever see Mick Brady afore? No! Well, ye see him now. -Maybe ye won’t live long enough to forget him!” - -“‘“I’ve heard of you,” I said, “of course.” I tried to look cool, but my -teeth chattered, for all the day was so hot. “I’m a Government man, like -yourself. I’ve never done you any harm that I know of.” - -“‘“No harm!” he shouted, “no harm! Aren’t ye one of old Herbert’s -shepherds—a lot of mean crawlers that work for a bloody tyrant, and -inform on poor starving brutes like me that’s been driven to take to the -bush by cruelty and injustice of every kind. I came here to shoot you, -and shoot you I will, and your dog too; the dingos and the tigers may -work their will on the flock afterwards. He’ll feel that a d—d sight -more than the loss of a shepherd. I know him, the hard-hearted old -slave-driver!” God forgive him for miscalling a good man and a kind -master. - -“‘“Don’t shoot the dog,” I said, “he’s the best I ever had—a prisoner’s -life’s not much in this country, but a dog like him you don’t see every -day.” - -“‘“Kneel down,” he said, “and don’t waste time; ye can say a short -prayer to God Almighty, or the devil, whichever ye favour most. Old -Nick’s given _me_ a lift, many a time.” - -“‘He stood there, with the death-light in his red-rimmed, wolfish eyes, -and no more mercy in them than a tiger’s, lapping the blood of a Hindoo -letter-carrier. When I was a soldier I’d seen the poor things brought in -from the jungle, with their throats torn out, and mangled beyond -knowing. Surely man was never in a worse case or nearer death. -Strangely, I felt none of the fear which I did when I saw him first. I -had no hope, but I prayed earnestly to God, believing that a very few -moments would suffice to place me beyond mortal terrors. - -“‘The girl meanwhile had crept closer to us and stood with her large -eyes wide open, half in surprise, half in terror—as she leaned her laden -back against one of the rock pillars which stood around. She murmured a -few words in her own language—I knew it slightly—against bloodshed, and -for mercy. But he turned on her with a savage oath, and made as though -he would add her murder to the long list of his crimes. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - -“‘AT that moment, the last I ever expected to see on earth, the black -girl uttered a sudden cry. The report of a gun was heard, as a bullet -passed between me and Brady, flattening itself against the rock where I -had been leaning just before. At the same time four men dashed across -the gully and made for him. He looked at me with devilish malignity for -a moment, but I suppose, wanting the charge in his gun for his own -defence, turned and fled with extraordinary speed towards the forest, -the police—for such they were—with a soldier and the informer, firing at -him as he went. Their guns were the old-fashioned tower muskets; they -were bad shots at best—so the girl and he disappeared in the thick wood, -unhurt as far as I could see. I fell on my face, I know, and thanked God -before I rose—the God of our fathers, who had answered my prayer and -delivered me out of the hand of the “bloody and deceitful man,” in the -words of the Psalmist. I took my sheep home early, and put them in the -paling yard—dog proof it was—and needed to be, in that part of the -country. Just as it was getting dark, the men came back, regularly -knocked up, with their clothes torn to rags and half off their backs. -They hadn’t caught Brady. I didn’t expect they would—he was in hard -condition, and could run like a kangaroo. He got clean out of sight of -them in a mile or two after they left us. What astonished me was, that -they brought back the black girl, with a bullet through her shoulder, -poor thing! - -“‘“I suppose that was a mistake,” said I, “you didn’t fire at the poor -thing, surely?” - -“‘“_We_ didn’t,” said the soldier, “but who d’ye think did?” - -“‘“You don’t say?” said I. - -“‘“But I do. It was that infernal villain and coward, Brady himself, -that shot her. She couldn’t keep up with him, and for fear she’d fall -into our hands, and give away his ‘plants,’ he fired at her, and nearly -stopped her tongue for ever. But he’s overdid it this time—she’s red hot -agen ’im now, and swears she’ll go with any party to help track him up.” - -“‘“Serve the brute right. Let’s have a look at the poor thing’s -shoulder, I wonder if the bullet’s still in it?” - -“‘We washed off the blood, and between us, managed to get it out. It was -wonderful how many people in those days knew something about gunshot -wounds. After we’d shown Mary the bullet, we bound it up, and the poor -gin thanked us, and lay down on her furs by the fire, quite comfortable. -We kept watch and watch, you may be sure, for fear Brady might come in -the night, and shoot one of us, but nothing happened, and after -breakfast the party went back to Hobart, taking the girl with them. - -“‘I was in fear for weeks afterwards that he might come and pay me out. -But he didn’t do that either. He was taken not long after, and when he -was, it was through that same girl, Mary, whom he tried to shoot. He met -his fate through his own base bloodthirsty act, and if any one brought -it on his own head, and deserved it thoroughly, Mick Brady was that man. - -“‘Now this happened a many years ago, before you were born, or thought -of, as the saying is. Often and often, when I could leave the flock -safe, did I try to find out the place where this stone came from, but I -never could drop on it again. When I found it first and saw that there -was a regular lode, and plenty more “slugs” as rich as this, which is -nearly pure silver, mind you, I was in such a hurry to get back to the -sheep, that I’d only time to mark two or three trees, and drive in a -stake, before I started for home. - -“‘I was sure I could find it again. But I never did. It was hot weather, -and a bush fire started that day, and burned for weeks, sweeping all -that side of the country. - -“‘You’ll remember reading of Black Thursday, Master Charles? it burned -all Port Phillip, Victoria as they call it now, from Melbourne town to -the Ottawa range. So I expect my marks were burnt out. For I never could -find the way to it again: what with the fallen timber that covered over -the ground, and the ashes that was heaped up a foot deep in some places, -the whole face of the country was altered past knowing. You might have -heard tell that ashes fell on board some of the coasting craft miles -from the shore, and a black cloud hung over the coastline, for days -afterwards. But, take my word for it, Master Charles, the word of a -dying man, for I’m not long for this world, that whoever finds the gully -where this stone came from, and takes up a prospecting claim, will own -the richest silver mine, south of the line. Your father’s always been a -good master to his prisoner servants, that Mick Brady told a lie when he -said he wasn’t, and there’s none of ’em that wouldn’t do him a good -turn, if they could; and I have known you and loved you ever since you -was the height of a walking stick. So here’s the silver “slug,” and the -wash-leather bag of specimens, there’s gold and copper besides, and I -hope there’ll be luck with them.’ - -“The poor old chap didn’t live long after that. He was comfortable -enough for the last year or two of his life, for my father pensioned his -old servants, and his old horses too, for that matter. He couldn’t bear -to think that after they’d worked well all their lives, they should be -allowed to drag out a wretched existence, starved, or perhaps -ill-treated, till death came to their relief. So the silver ‘slug’ was -bequeathed to me, this is a bit of it on my watch-chain, with the -malachite colouring showing out. It always comes with time, they say. -Anyhow it brought me luck in the end, though it was a precious long time -coming about.” - -“As you’ve brought us so far,” said Jack Clarke, “and Mr. Blount seems -interested (he hasn’t been asleep more than twice), I think it would be -a fair thing to give us the last chapter. For, I suppose you _did_ find -the old man’s marked tree, and if so, how? as lawyers say.” - -“As you have deduced, with your usual astuteness, that I must have found -it, or we shouldn’t be here, I suppose, I may lay aside my modesty, and -enlighten the company. The ‘Comstock’ has a well-marked track now, if -there’s nothing else good about it. Old Parkins gave me the bearings of -the ‘Lost Gully,’ as he always called it. Once a year, I always took a -loaf round the locality after Christmas, poking about doing a little -fishing, when there was any: shooting wallaby or anything worth while -that I came across. Got an old man kangaroo bailed up at the head of a -gully, one day after a big fight with my dogs. I had fired away my -cartridges, and was looking round for a stick to hit him on the head -with, when I backed on to a stump of an upright sapling, as I thought, -out of a ‘whip stick scrub,’ which had grown up since the fire. - -“It did not give way, as I expected, and putting back my hand to feel -it, I found it was a _stake_! It was charred all round, but still sound, -and hard to the core. Lucky for me, it was stringy bark timber. I pulled -it up, and tried it on the old man’s skull, which it cracked like an egg -shell. It had been pointed with a tomahawk, and driven well into the -ground. That clinched the matter. It _was the old man’s peg_! The next -thing was to clear the ground round about of timber and ashes, with all -the accumulation of years. This I did next day, carefully, and it was -not long before I discovered a couple of tomahawk marks on a big -‘mess-mate’ not far off. The bark had partly grown over it. It was in -the form of a cross. Underneath the new bark the marking was perfect, as -I had often seen surveyors’ marks, years and years after they had been -done. Then I came upon the cap of the lode, broke off some rock, fifty -per cent. ore, no mistake. Blazed my track and cleared for Hobart. Took -up a prospector’s claim next morning at 10 a.m. Registered in due form. -Met Clarke and accidentally Messrs. Blount and Tregonwell, new—er—that -is to say, newly arrived from England, and the great silver property, -known to the world as the ‘Tasmanian Comstock, Limited,’ and so on was -duly launched.” - -“Well done, Charlie, my boy! No idea you’d so much poetry in your -composition! You were not regarded as imaginative at the old ‘Hutchins -Institute,’ where we both had ‘small Latin and less Greek’ hammered into -us. But you were a sticker, I will say that for you. Now that I’m _hors -de combat_, I seem to see that quality in a new light. Main strength and -stupidity we used to call it in your case.” - -“I’ve no doubt; you were horribly ill-mannered, even without a sprained -ankle,” retorted Herbert, “but we make allowances for your condition as -an invalid. By the time we get that corduroy track finished, and traffic -other than ‘man-power’ restored, we shall look for improvement.” - -The next day, being bright with sunshine, dispersed some of the gloom -which wet, cold and unwonted fatigue had imposed upon the partners. The -shafts of sunlight, flashing through the endless glades and thickets of -the primeval forest, formed a thousand glittering coruscations of all -imaginable forms and figures. - -The pools of water reflected the glimpses of cloudless sky, framed in -sombre but still burnished shades of green. Birds called and twittered -in approval of the change, while strings of water-fowl, winging their -way to the great mountain lakes, told of a happier clime, and the -undisturbed enjoyment in which the tribes of the air might revel. - -The obvious primary duty after breakfast was to get to the mine itself. -The distance was not great, but the task was less easy than might be -supposed. The track through the jungle of scrub and forest was -necessarily narrow, as the labour necessary for clearing it was great -and, therefore, expensive. The tremendous rainfall had turned the -adjoining country into a quagmire, the only means of crossing which was -by a corduroy road. - -On this inconvenient makeshift the friends stumbled along until they -came to a collection of huts and tents, the usual outcrop of a mining -township, which springs up, mushroom-like, at the faintest indication of -proved, payable gold, silver or copper in any part of Australia. Of -course there was a “store,” so called, from which proudly flaunted a -large calico flag, with “Comstock Emporium” rudely painted thereon, -while a few picks and shovels, iron pots and frying-pans, with a -half-emptied case of American axes outside the canvas door, denoted the -presence of the primary weapons used in the war with nature. - -A score or more of shafts, above which were the rude windlasses with -rope and bucket of the period, disclosed the beginning of mining -enterprise, advertising the hope and expectation of a subterranean -treasure-house—the hope invariable, the expectation, alas! so often -doomed to barren disappointment and eventual despair. - -However, when the prospectors’ claim was reached, within the area of -which no intrusion was allowed, the dull grey rock from which Mr. Blount -was urged to break down a few fragments disclosed a perfect Aladdin’s -cave of the precious metal. His enthusiasm, slow to arouse, became keen, -stimulated by this “potentiality of boundless wealth.” His more -emotional partner was loudly enthusiastic upon the immense value of the -discovery. - -“See that stone,” he said, knocking off a corner of the “face,” “it’s -all fifty per cent. stuff—when it’s not seventy-five. Look at the native -silver and the malachite! I’ve been on the ‘Comstock,’ and the ‘Indian -Chief’ in Denver, and can make affidavit that in their best days they -never turned out better stone than that—most of it was less than half -the percentage, indeed. The ore bodies were larger, you say? No such -thing. This lode widens out; the deeper you go, the more there is of it. -Easy worked, too. Freight expensive? Wait till the corduroy’s finished -to the main road; we’ll have stores and hotels, the electric light, hot -and cold water laid on; a couple of clubs, with the last month’s -magazines, and _The Times_ itself on the smoking-room table. You don’t -know how everything comes to ‘a big field,’ gold, silver or copper, as -soon as the precious metal is proved—proved, mind you—to have a settled -abode there. Fortune? There’s a fortune apiece for every proprietor here -to-day—even for Clarke, who’s now in his bunk reading a yellow-back -novel.” - -All this fairy-appearing relation turned out to be a sober and accurate -statement of facts, as far as could be gathered from the survey made by -the partners in the enterprise. The stone, which was of surpassing -richness, was principally found in a well-defined lode, forty feet wide, -increasing in volume as the shafts pierced more deeply into the bowels -of the earth. - -A mining expert of eminence turned up, who had, after many perils and -disasters, found his way to Comstock. On being permitted a “private -view,” he confirmed Mr. Tregonwell’s wildest flights of fancy. - -“Nothing in the Southern Hemisphere as rich, or half as rich, has ever -been discovered,” he said. He doubted, as did Tregonwell, whether in all -the mines from Peru to Denver such a deposit had ever been unearthed. He -proved by reference to scientific geological treatises that it was so -rare as to have been doubted as a possibility that such a find _could_ -occur, but if so, the most apocryphal yield of Peru and Chile would have -paled before the size and richness of this Silverado of the Wilderness, -so long hidden from the gaze of man. - -Then an adjournment was made to the “Emporium,” as it was proudly -styled, the meagreness of its materials and adornments being in the -inverse proportion to its imposing designation. - -But the glory of the future, the assured development of the mine, and, -as a natural sequence, of the “field,” was shed around with irradiating -effect and brilliancy of colouring. Upon this the proprietor proceeded -to dilate, after an invitation to a calico shielded sanctum, sacred to -the account books and documents of the establishment. In the centre of -the compartment stood a table composed of the top of a packing case, -placed upon stakes driven into the earthen floor. At one side was a -stretcher with his blankets and bedclothes, surmounted by a gaily -coloured rug, upon which the visitors were invited to sit, while the -host after placing a bottle of whisky of a fashionable brand upon the -festive board, cordially requested his guests to join him in drinking -the health of the energetic and spirited proprietors of the Great -Comstock Silver Mine. - -“Not that it looks much now, gentlemen; no more does this stringy bark -and calico shanty of mine. But that says nothing. I was at Ballarat in -the ‘fifties,’ and Jack Garth, the baker, had just such a gunya as this. -I brought up a load of flour for him, and was paid a hundred and fifty -pound a ton for the carriage. The roads were bad certainly—puts me in -mind of this hole, in that way; but you _could_ travel, somehow. And -look at Ballarat now, with trams, and town halls, and artificial lakes, -and public gardens and statues—just like the old country. And Jack -Garth, well, he’s worth a couple of hundred thousand pounds, if he’s -worth a penny; owns farms and prize stock, and hotels, and everything a -man can want in this world. How came that, gentlemen? Because he was a -hardworking straightgoing chap? No! that wouldn’t have done it, though -he’d always have made a good living—any man of the right sort can do -_that_ in Australia. But _the gold was there_! It was there then, and -it’s there now. It floated the whole place up to fortune and fame, the -diggers, the storekeepers, the publicans, the commissioners, the -carriers, the very police made money: some of ’em saved it too. Didn’t -one of ’em own a whole terrace of houses afterwards? Well, the gold was -there, and _the silver’s here_; that’s all that’s wanted for miners to -know, and they’ll follow it up, if it was to the South Pole; and mark my -words, gentlemen, this place’ll go ahead, and grow and flourish, and -make fortunes for us men standing here, and for the er—er—babe unborn.” -Concluding his peroration with this effective forecast, which showed -that his connection, as member, with the Bungareeshire council had not -been without effect on his elocution, Mr. Morgan replenished his glass, -and invited his distinguished guests to do likewise. - - * * * * * - -Hobart, at length. Mr. Blount was unaffectedly pleased, even joyous, -when for the second time he sighted the towering summit and -forest-clothed sides of Mount Wellington, overlooking the picturesque -city, the noble stretches of the Derwent, and the Southern main. -Impatient of delay, and feverishly anxious to receive the letters which -he had not cared to trust to the irregular postal service of Silverado; -almost certain, as he deemed, of answers to his letters from Mrs. Bruce -and Imogen, even if the master of the house had not relented, he had -stayed a day to ensure the company of the mining expert, the road being -lonely, the weather bad, and the conversation of a cultured companion -valuable under the circumstances. Mr. Blount ran rapidly through the -pile of letters and papers which he found awaiting him; indeed, made a -second examination of these former missives. - -A feeling of intense disappointment overcame him when no letters with -the postmark of the village on the Upper Sturt turned up, nor did he -discover the delicate, yet free and legible handwriting, which conveyed -such solace to his soul at Bunjil. - -Looking over the correspondence, mechanically, however, he came across -the postmark of that comparatively obscure townlet, and recalling the -bold, characteristic hand of Sheila Maguire, tore it open. It ran as -follows:— - - -“DEAR MR. BLOUNT,—You told me when you went away that cold morning, that -if anything happened here that I thought you ought to know, I was to -write and tell you. We all thought there would be a heavy fall of rain, -and most likely a big storm that night. I expect you just missed it, but -there must have been a waterspout or something, for the Little River, -and all the creeks at the head of the water, came down a banker. It -knocked the sluicing company’s works about, above a bit, and flooded the -miners’ huts—but the worst thing it did was to drown poor Johnny Doyle -the mailman. Yes! poor chap, it wasn’t known for days afterwards, when -the people at Marondah wondered why they didn’t get their mail. He was -never known to be late before. However, drowned he was, quite simple -too. He could swim first-rate, but the pack-horse was caught in a snag, -and he must have jumped in, to loose the bags, and got kicked on the -head and stunned. So the packer was drowned, and him too, worse luck! -His riding horse was found lower down—he’d swum out all right. They -fished up the pack saddle with the mail-bags, but the letters were -squashed up to pulp—couldn’t be delivered. - -“So, if you wrote to any one _down the river, she didn’t get it_. - -“I thought it as well to let you know, as you might be waiting for an -answer, and not getting one, go off to foreign parts in _a despairing -state of mind_. Bunjil’s much the same as when you left, except that -Little-River-Jack, the two O’Haras, and Lanky Dixon were arrested in -Gippsland, but not being evidence enough, the P.M. here turned them up. -A report came that you had struck it rich in Tasmania, so you may be -sure of getting _all_ your letters now and some over. I’ve noticed that. -So long. I send a newspaper with the account in it of the flood. - - “Believe me always, - “Your sincere friend and well-wisher, - “SHEILA MAGUIRE. - -“P.S.—The cob goes first-rate with me. I’m learning him to jump. He’s -christened ‘Bunjil.’ I’m going to live in Tumut after Christmas, and he -will remind me of the time you came here first.” - - -“By Jove! Sheila, you’re a trump!” was Mr. Blount’s very natural -exclamation, as he arose and walked up and down the room, after -mastering the contents of the momentous epistle. “This clears up the -mystery of their silence. No wonder they didn’t write, Bruce thinking -that I was willing to let judgment go by default. Mrs. Bruce and Imogen -believing Heaven knows what? That I must be a shady character, at any -rate, no gentleman, or I would have answered one or other of their -letters—sent in the goodness of their hearts. So this is the -explanation!” - -The temporary relief accorded to the recipient of Sheila’s letter -encouraged him to hunt through the pile of newspapers for the unassuming -_Bunjil, Little River, and Boggy Creek Herald_, which, presently -descrying, he fastened upon the headlines, “Disastrous flood.” “Great -destruction of property.” “Lamentable death by drowning.” - -“We regret deeply to be compelled to chronicle the melancholy and fatal -accident by which Mr. John Doyle, a valued employé of the Postal -Department, lost his life last week. - -“The mail from the township to the Tallawatta Post-Office, by no means -inconsiderable or unimportant, is carried on horseback, though we have -repeatedly pointed out its inadequacy as a mode of transport. Our -remonstrance has unfortunately been emphasised by the drowning of the -mail-carrier, and the total loss of the letters and papers. Mr. Doyle -was a fine young man, of steady habits, a good horseman and expert -swimmer. It is surmised that in attempting to free the pack-horse, since -discovered entangled in a sunken tree root, he was kicked by the -struggling animal and stunned; the _post-mortem_ examination before the -inquest, made by Dr. Dawson, M.D., who came over from Beechworth for the -purpose, disclosed a deep cut on the temple and the mark of a horseshoe. -The coroner, with a jury of six, brought in a verdict of ‘Accidental -death by drowning.’ At the funeral, nearly a hundred persons attended, -showing the respect in which the deceased was held by the neighbours. -Father O’Flynn of the Presbytery at Hovell conducted the service. This -occurrence has cast quite a gloom over our township and the surrounding -district.” - -So much for poor Johnny Doyle, a game, active, hardworking son of the -soil; sober and well conducted, the chief support of his widowed mother, -with a brood of half-a-dozen young children. - -There was some argument after the funeral upon the mystery of permitted -evil, and the dispensation which allowed the sacrifice of poor Johnny, -whose life was a benefit in his humble sphere, to all connected with -him, while as to certain worthless members of the body politic, freely -referred to by name, the invariable verdict upon an apparently charmed -life was, “You couldn’t kill ’em with an axe.” - -Though temporarily immersed in thought, Mr. Blount quickly came to the -conclusion that, as his former letters had been prevented by fate from -achieving their purpose, it would be the obvious course to write to the -same persons at once, furnishing the same explanation. He devoted the -evening to that duty solely, and after conveying to Mr. Bruce his -regrets for the unavoidable delay which had occurred, and lamenting the -injurious construction which might be put upon his silence, made an -appeal to his sense of honour that he should be granted a hearing, and -be permitted to explain personally the apparent inconsistency of his -conduct. - -To Mrs. Bruce he wrote with more freedom of expression, deploring the -unkind fate which had denied him an opportunity of clearing away the -aspersions on his character. As to his non-appearance, he had been -called away by business of the _greatest urgency_, affecting not only -his own but other people’s interests. His future prospects had been -deeply involved. Nothing short of prompt action could have saved the -situation. Now, he was rejoiced to be able to assure her and Miss -Imogen, that a fortune of no inconsiderable amount was actually within -his grasp. - -He forwarded a copy of the _Hobart Intelligencer_, a respectable -journal, in which she would find a confirmation of his statement. Also, -a detailed account of the rise and progress of the property, though more -rose-coloured than he would care to assert. The value of the property, a -mining expert of eminence had said, could hardly be over-estimated. It -was his intention, without more delay than the consolidation of the -directorate and other essential arrangements required, to return to New -South Wales, and present himself before them at Marondah, no matter what -the outcome might be. The result he felt would colour his future -existence for happiness or misery, yet he was determined to undergo the -ordeal. A final decision, however disastrous, would be more endurable -than the condition of doubt and uncertainty under which he had existed -for the last few weeks. Accompanying these letters was a packet -containing letters of introduction to the Governors of more than one -colony. They were from personages of high standing, even of great -political influence. Not couched in the formal phraseology which the -writers of such communications hold to be sufficient for the purpose, -they spoke of the bearer as a young man of great promise, who had -unusual opportunities of rising in the diplomatic or other official -branches of the Civil Service, but had, somewhat inconsiderately, -preferred to explore new and untried roads to fortune. The writers had -no doubt but that he would distinguish himself in some form or other -before his novitiate was ended. - -A short but impassioned appeal had been enclosed in this letter to Mrs. -Bruce. Her womanly compassion would, he trusted, impel her to deliver it -to Imogen, whose sympathetic feelings, if not a warmer emotion, which he -hardly dared to classify, he felt instinctively to be in his favour. - -Having completed his task, he was not satisfied until he had posted the -letters and packet with his own hands, and with an unuttered prayer that -they would meet with no mischance similar to the last, he returned to -the Tasmanian Club, where he slept soundly till aroused by the fully -arisen sun and the hum of labour, combined with the ceaseless clatter of -vehicles. - -A man’s mental turmoils and uncertainties doubtless act upon his -physical constitution, but he must indeed be exceptionally framed who -can withstand the cheering influence of a well-cooked breakfast and a -fine day in spring. The surroundings of a first-class Australian Club -are such as to cause the most fastidious arrival from Europe to -recognise the social kinship of the cultured Briton to be worldwide and -homogeneous. The conventional quietude of manner, the perfection of -attendance, the friendliness towards the stranger guest, all these minor -matters, differentiated from the best hotel life, tend to placate the -traveller, much as he may be given to criticise all more or less foreign -institutions, when distant from the “Mecca” of his race. - -So it came to pass that, on forth issuing from that most agreeable -caravanserai, his bruised and lacerated spirit felt soothed by the -courtesy of the members generally, as well as of those immediately near -to him at the table where he sat. He had drifted easily into -conversation with several manifestly representative men: with one, -indeed, an all-powerful mining investor (as he learnt subsequently), -holding the fortunes of a mammoth copper syndicate in the hollow of his -hand. Of this gentleman he took special heed, but neither from his -appearance, manner nor conversation was he enabled to make a probable -guess as to the nature of his occupation. - -He might have been an _habitué_ of cities, or a life-long dweller in the -country, interested in commerce, in finance, pastoral or agricultural -pursuits; in any one of these, or in all. But there was nothing to -indicate it. A complete negation of the first person singular marked his -conversation, yet he was apparently equally at ease in each and every -topic as they arose. One thing, however, could not be mistaken—the -massive frame and exceptional capacity for leadership, which would seem -to be wasted on a city life. - -Another of a widely different type had been his right-hand neighbour at -the genial but conventional board—a young and fashionably-dressed man, -“native and to the manner born,” who seemed to be the recognised -_arbiter elegantiarum_, as well as leader and referee of all sport and -pastime. Secretary to the polo club, steward at the forthcoming -Race-meeting and Hunt Club Cup, on the committee of the Assembly Ball, -also imminent, he tendered an offer to our honorary member to procure -seats, tickets, and introductions for himself and friends, with special -facilities for joining or witnessing these annual celebrations. He also -was not _affiché_ to any known profession—at least, to none that could -be gathered from looks or manner. Others of the ordinary denizens of -club-land to whom he was introduced mentioned his partner, Mr. -Tregonwell, as an out-and-out good fellow, and, as a mining expert, a -benefactor to this island. He had evidently toned down his exuberance in -the interests of conventionality. Mr. Blount, in contradistinction to -the men who had extended the right-hand of friendship to him, was -patently a _novus homo_—ticketed as such by dress and deportment, and -assured of courteous entertainment from that very circumstance. - -It was early in the “season” for Hobart to be in full swing as the -recuperating region for the exhausted dwellers in continental Australia, -where from Perth to the Gulf of Carpentaria King Sol reigns supreme in -the summer months. Still, there was no lack of hospitality, including -agreeable _réunions_, which, more informal than in metropolitan -Australian cities, are pleasanter for that circumstance. There was an -old-fashioned air about the environs of Hobart, a pleasantly-restful -expression, a total absence of hurry or excitement. Small farms with -aged orchards abounded, the fruit from which, exceptionally well -flavoured and plenteous, recalled the village homes of Kent and Devon. -Unlike the dwellers on the continent, the yeomen—for such they -were—seemed fully contented with a life of modest independence, which -they were unwilling to exchange for any speculative attempt to “better -themselves.” - -What better position could they hope to attain than a home in this -favoured island, blessed with a modified British climate and a fertile -soil, where all the necessaries of a simple yet dignified existence were -within reach of the humblest freeholder? - -No scorching droughts, no devastating floods, no destructive cyclones -harassed the rural population. Mr. Blount amused himself with daily -drives through the suburbs, within such distances as were accessible in -an afternoon. Having been much struck with the action of a pair of -cab-horses which he took for his first drive, he arranged for their -services daily during his stay in Hobart. Of one—a fine brown mare, -occupying the “near” side in the pair—he became quite enamoured; the way -in which she went up the precipitous road to Brown’s River, and down the -same on the return journey, without a hint from the driver, stamped her, -in his estimation, as an animal of exceptional quality. - -The metalled road, too, was not particularly smooth, albeit hard enough -to try any equine legs. On inquiring the price the owner put on the -pair, he was surprised to find it was but £35. Twenty pounds for his -favourite, and fifteen for her less brilliant companion—useful and -stanch though she was, and a fair match for shape and colour. He -immediately closed the bargain, and thought he should enjoy the feeling -of setting up his own carriage, so to speak; a barouche, too, -chintz-lined, as are most of the cabs of Hobart—obsolete in fashion, but -most comfortable as hackney carriages. - -Before the fortnight expired, to which he limited his holiday, he was -sensible of a slight, a very slight, change of feeling, though he would -have indignantly repelled any imputation of disloyalty to Imogen. But it -was not in human nature for a man of his age, still on the sunny side of -thirty, to live among bevies of, perhaps, the handsomest women in -Australasia, by whom he found himself to be cordially welcomed, without -a slight alleviation of the feeling of gloom, if not despair, into which -the absence of any recognition of his letters from Bunjil had thrown -him. Moreover, the reports of the richness of the Comstock mine, -confirmed, even heightened, by every letter from Tregonwell, were in all -the local papers. - -“A gentleman, lately arrived from Europe and touring the colonies, now -staying at the Tasmanian Club, was known to be one of the original -shareholders. And if so, his income could not be stated at less than -£10,000 a year. It was by the merest chance that Mr. Valentine Blount -(such is the name, we are informed, of this fortunate personage) bought -an original share in the prospecting claim, which must be regarded -henceforth as the ‘Mount Morgan’, of Tasmania. Mr. Blount is a relative -of Lord Fontenaye of Tamworth, where the family possesses extensive -estates, tracing their descent, it is asserted, in an uninterrupted line -from the impetuous comrade of Fitz Eustace, immortalised in _Marmion_.” - -Valentine Blount, it may well be believed, if popular before this -announcement, became rapidly more so, reaching, indeed, the giddy -eminence of the lion of the day. Rank he was declared to possess, -heir-presumptive to a baronetcy, or indeed an earldom, as well-informed -leaders of society claimed to know, with a large income at present, -probably an immense fortune in the future. Of course he would leave for -England at an early date. Handsome, cultured, travelled, what girl could -refuse him? So without endorsing the chiefly false and vulgar imputation -upon Australian girls that he was “run after,” it may be admitted that -he was afforded every reasonable opportunity of seeing the daughters of -the land under favourable conditions. - -With the more lengthened stay which the “millionaire” _malgré lui_ (so -to speak) made in this enchanting island, the more firmly was his -opinion rooted that he had fallen upon a section of “old-fashioned -England,” old-fashioned, it may be stated, only in the clinging to the -earlier ideals of that Arcadian country life, which Charles Lamb, -Addison, Crabbe, and more lately, Washington Irving, have rendered -immortal. In the orchards, which showed promise of being overladen with -the great apple crop in the sweet summer time, now hastening to arrive; -in the cider-barrels on tap in the wayside inns and hospitable -farmhouses; in the clover-scented meadows, where the broad-backed sheep -and short-horned cattle wandered at will; in the freestone mansions of -the squirearchy, where the oak- and elm-bordered avenues, winding from -the lodge gate, the ranges of stabling, whence issued the four-in-hand -drags, with blood teams, coachmen and footmen “accoutred proper” at race -meetings or show days, exhibited the firm attachment which still -obtained to the customs of their English forefathers. - -These matters, closely observed by the visitor, were dear to his soul, -proofs, if such were needed, of steadfast progress in all the essentials -of national life, without departing in any marked respect from the -ancestral tone. - -At Hollywood Hall, at Westcotes, and at Malahide, where he was made -frankly welcome, he rejoiced in these evidences of inherited prosperity, -but still more in association with the stalwart sons and lovely -daughters of the land. “Here,” he thought, as he mused at early morn, or -rode in the coming twilight beneath the long-planted elms, oaks, walnuts -and chestnuts, of the far land, so distant, yet home-seeming, “are the -real treasures of old England’s possessions, not gold or silver, -diamonds or opals (and such there are, as Van Haast assured me), but the -men and women, the children of the Empire, of whom, in the days to come, -we shall have need and shall be proud to lead forth before the world.” - -Here, and in other offshoots of the “happy breed of men” whom the parent -isle has sent forth to people the waste lands of the earth, shall the -Anglo-Saxon world hail its statesmen, jurists, warriors, poets, writers, -singers—not, indeed, as feeble imitators of the great names of history, -but bright with original genius and strong in the untrammelled vigour of -newer, happier lands. - -“And why is Mr. Blount so deeply immersed in thought,” asked a girlish -voice, “that he did not hear me coming towards him from the rose-garden, -where the frost has tarnished all my poor buds? You are not going to -write a book about us, are you? for if so, I must order you off the -premises.” - -“Now what _can_ be written but compliments, well-deserved praises about -your delightful country, and its—well—charming inhabitants?” replied -Blount, after apologising for his abstraction and shaking hands warmly -with the disturber of his reverie. - -“Oh! that is most sweet of you to say so. But so many Englishmen we have -entertained have disappointed us by either magnifying our small defects, -or praising us in the wrong place—which is worse.” - -“That I am not going to write a book of ‘Tours and Travels in Search of -Gold,’ or anything of the sort, I am free to make affidavit. But if I -were, what could I say, except in praise of a morning like this—of a -rose garden like the one you have just left, of an ancient-appearing -baronial hall like Hollywood, with century old elms and oaks, and the -squire’s daughter just about to remind an absent-minded visitor of the -imminent breakfast bell? I saw it yesterday in the courtyard of the -stables, and what an imposing pile it ornaments! Stalls for five and -twenty horses—or is it thirty? Four-in-hand drag in the coach house, -landau, brougham, dog carts, pony carriage—everything, I give you my -word, that you would find in a country house in England.” - -“You are flattering us, I feel certain,” said the young lady, blushing -slightly, yet wearing a pleased smile at this _catalogue raisonné_; “of -course I know that the comparison only applies to English country houses -of the third or fourth class. - -“Those of the county magnates, like Chatsworth and at Eaton, must be as -far in advance of ours, as these are superior to the cottages in which -people lived in pioneer days. However, there is the nine o’clock bell -for breakfast; we are punctual also at one for lunch, which may or may -not be needed to-day.” - -The big bell clanged for about five minutes, during which visitors and -members of the household were seen converging towards the massive -portico of the façade of the Hall. It was a distinctly imposing edifice, -built of a neutral-tinted freestone, a material which throughout the -ages has always lent itself easily to architectural development. - -Hollywood Hall, standing as it did on the border of a river stocked with -trout, and centrally situated in a freehold estate of thirty thousand -acres of fertile land, might fairly be quoted as an object lesson in -colonising experience, as well as an example of the rewards occasionally -secured by the roving Englishman. - -The breakfast room though large appeared well filled, as Blount and his -fair companion joined the party. Certain neighbours had ridden over, -after the informal manner of the land, in order to break the journey to -Hobart and spend a pleasant hour in the society of the girls of -Hollywood Hall. Truth to tell, the sex was predominant, the proportion -of the daughters of the house being largely in excess of the men. Tall, -graceful, refined, distinctly handsome, they afforded a notable instance -of the favouring conditions of Australian life. They possessed also the -open air accomplishments of their class. Hard to beat at lawn tennis, -they could ride and drive better than the average man, following the -hounds of a pack occasionally hunted in the neighbourhood. - -The merry tones and lively interchange of badinage which went on with -but little intermission during the pleasant meal proved their possession -of those invaluable gifts of the budding maid—high health and unfailing -spirits, with a sufficient, though not overpowering, sense of humour. - -The squire, a well-preserved, fresh-looking, middle-aged man, sitting at -the head of his table with an expression of mingled geniality and -command, as the contest of tongues waned, thought it well to suggest the -order of the day. “I feel sorry that I am obliged to drive to an -outlying farm on business, which will occupy me the greater part of the -day. So you will have, with the assistance of Mrs. Claremont, to amuse -yourselves.” - -“I think we can manage that,” said the youngest daughter, a merry damsel -of sixteen. “Captain Blake is going to drive Laura and me over to Deep -Woods. Mother says we can ask them to come over to dine, as we _might_ -have a little dance afterwards.” - -“So that’s one part of the programme, is it? you monkey,” said the host; -“I might have known you had some conspiracy on foot. However, if your -mother approves, it’s all right. Now, does any one care about fishing, -because the trout are taking the fly well, and I heard that snipe were -seen at the Long Marsh yesterday; they’re a week earlier this year”—this -to the son and heir of the house; “what were you intending to arrange?” - -“Well, sir, I thought of driving over to see Joe and Bert Bowyer—they’re -just back from the old country—been at Cambridge, too. I’ve got a -fairish team just taken up. Mr. Blount with two of the girls, and -Charlie could come. It’s a fine day for a drive; perhaps the boys will -come back with us.” - -“But won’t you want some girls?” - -“Oh! I think we shall do, sir! Mother sent a note to Mrs. Fotheringay -early this morning. They’ll come, I’m pretty sure.” - -“Aha! master Philip! _you_ managed that, I can see. Well, quite -right—have all the fun you can now; one’s only young once. So you think -I may go away with a clear conscience, as far as our guests are -concerned?” - -“I’ll be responsible, sir! you may trust me and mother, I think,” said -the son and heir, a tall, resolute-looking youngster. - -So the family council was concluded, and Mr. Blount being informed that -the drag party would not start until eleven o’clock, rested tranquil in -his mind. Miss Laura, his companion of the morning, let him know that -for household reasons her society would not be available until the drag -was ready to start—but that he would find a good store of books in the -library upstairs, also writing materials; if he had letters to answer, -the contents of the post-bag in the hall would reach Hobart at six -o’clock. - -To this haven of peace Blount betook himself, satisfied that he would -have a sufficiency of outdoor life before the end of the day, and not -unwilling to conclude pressing correspondence, before commencing the -round of gaiety which he plainly saw was cut out for him. There was a -really good collection of books in the spacious library, from the -windows of which an extensive view of wood and wold opened out. He felt -tempted by the old records of the land, calf-bound and numbered with the -years of their publication, but resolutely sat down to inform Tregonwell -of his whereabouts, with the probable duration of his stay in the -district; warning him to write at once if any change took place in the -prospects of the Comstock. He also requested the secretary of the -Imperial Club at Melbourne to forward to his Hobart address all letters -and papers which might arrive. This done, he satisfied himself that he -was outwardly fit to bear inspection, presented himself in the hall a -few minutes before the time named for the start of the drag party, which -he found was to be accompanied by a mounted escort. A distinguished -looking neighbour whom everybody called “Dick,” evidently on the most -kindly, not to say affectionate terms with all present, was here -introduced to him as Mr. Richard Dereker of Holmby—one of those -fortunate individuals, who come into the world gifted with all the -qualities which recommend the owner equally to men and to women of all -ranks, classes, and dispositions. Handsome, gay, heir to a fine estate, -clever, generous, manly, he was fortune’s favourite, if any one ever -was. He had already come to the front in the Colonial Parliament; there -it was sufficient for him to offer himself, for society to declare that -it was folly for any one to think of opposing his election. He had been -invited to join the party, and as the idea of disappointing the company -was too painful to contemplate, he agreed at once to join the mounted -division. As, however, he had ridden twenty miles already, Philip -Claremont insisted on handing over the reins of the drag to him, and -sending for a fresh hackney, prepared to follow the drag on horseback. -“Did Mr. Dereker drive well?” Mr. Blount asked his next neighbour—as he -had noticed the four well-bred horses, in high condition, giving young -Claremont enough to do to hold them, as they came up from the stables; -the leaders, indeed, breaking into a hand gallop now and then. - -“Drive? Dick Dereker drive?” He looked astonished—“the best four-in-hand -whip in the island. Phil is a very fair coachman, but there’s a finish -about Dereker, that no other man can touch.” - -So, when the all-conquering hero, drawing on his neatly fitting doeskin -gloves, lightly ascended to the box seat, the helpers at the leaders’ -heads released those fiery steeds: as Mr. Dereker drew the reins through -his fingers, and sat up in an attitude of which Whyte Melville would -have approved, every feminine countenance in the party seemed irradiated -with a fresh gleam of brilliancy, while the team moved smoothly off. The -roads of Tasmania in that day—formed chiefly with the aid of convict -labour, of which an unlimited supply was available for public works—were -the best in Australasia. Well-graded and metalled—with mile stones at -proper distances—lined with hawthorn hedges, trimly kept for the most -part—passing through quiet villages where the horses were watered, and -the landlord of the inn stood with head uncovered, according to -traditional courtesy, there was much to remind the stranger of the -mother land; to support the intercolonial contention that Tasmania was -the most English-appearing of all the colonies, and in many respects, -the most advanced and highly civilised. - -With this last opinion, Blount felt inclined to agree—although, of -course, other evidence might be forthcoming. In conversation with Mr. -Dereker, between whom and himself Miss Laura Claremont was seated, he -learned that the larger estates from one of which he was coming, and to -another of which he was going, had been acquired by purchase or grant, -at an early stage of the occupation of the colony. The area of fertile -land being more circumscribed than in the colonies of New South Wales -and South Australia, the home market good, and the Government -expenditure during the transportation system immense, while labour was -cheap and plentiful, it followed that agricultural and pastoral pursuits -became for a succession of seasons most profitable. - -Hence, the country gentlemen of the land, as in the old days of the West -Indian planters, were enabled to build good houses—rear high-class -horses, cattle and sheep—and, in a general way, live comfortably, even -luxuriously. Owing to the high value of the land and the richness of the -soil, the distances between the estates were not so great as in New -South Wales; were therefore convenient for social meetings, for races, -steeplechases, cricket, shooting and hunting; Reynard’s place being -supplied by the wild dog, or “dingo,” who gave excellent sport, being -both fast and a good stayer. Like his British prototype, he was a -depredator, though on a more important scale: sheep, calves and foals -falling victims to his wolfish propensities. So his pursuit answered the -double purpose of affording excellent sport, and ridding the land of an -outlawed felon. - -With reference to hunting, of which old English pastime Mr. Dereker was -an enthusiastic supporter, he explained that owing to the estates and -farms being substantially fenced, horses that could negotiate the high -and stiff rails were a necessity. The breeding of hunters and -steeplechasers had been therefore encouraged from the earliest days of -the colony. Hacks and harness horses for similar reasons. “So that,” -said Mr. Dereker, allowing his whip to rest lightly on his off side -wheeler, “I don’t think you will find a better bred, better matched team -in an English county than this, or four better hackneys than those which -are now overtaking us.” - -Certainly, Mr. Blount thought, there was no reason to dispute the -assertion. The team they sat behind, two bays and two greys, driven -chequer fashion, a grey in the near lead, and another in the off wheel, -would be hard to beat. They were, perhaps, hardly so massive as the -English coach horse, but while less powerful and upstanding, they showed -more blood and were generally handsomer. This might account for the ease -with which they accomplished the twenty mile stage in little over the -two hours, and the unchanged form which they carried to the journey’s -end, with a fairly heavy load behind them. As for the hackney division, -when Miss Dalton and her companion overtook the coach just before they -turned into the drive at Holmby, there was a general expression of -admiration from the party, as the beautiful blood mare that she rode -reined up, tossing her head impatiently, while her large, mild eye, full -nostril, and high croup bore testimony to the Arab ancestry. - -“Yes! Zuleika _is_ a beauty!” said Miss Laura, looking with pardonable -pride at the satin coat and delicate limbs of the high-caste animal, -“and though she makes believe to be impatient, is as gentle as a lamb. -She is my personal property—we all have our own horses—but I lent her to -Grace Dalton to-day, for her palfrey, as the old romancers say, met with -an accident. She is a fast walker, and will show off going up the -drive.” - -“You appear to have wonderfully good horses of all classes in Tasmania,” -said the guest; “indeed in Australia generally, judging by those I saw -in Victoria and New South Wales—but here the hackneys and harness horses -seem to have more ‘class.’” - -“For many years,” said Mr. Dereker, “we have had the advantage of the -best English blood—with occasional high-caste Arab importations from -India; so there is no reason why, with a favourable climate, and wide -range of pasture, we should not have speed, stoutness and pace equal to -anything in the world. But here we are at Walmer, so we must defer the -treatment of this fascinating subject till after lunch, when the ladies -have retired.” As he spoke, he turned into the by road which led to the -lodge gate, which, opened by an aged retainer, admitted them to a -well-kept avenue shaded by oaks and elms, and lined by hawthorn hedges. -The house was a large and handsome country home, differing in style and -architecture from Hollywood Hall, but possessing all the requisite -qualifications for hospitality needed by a manor house. As they drove up -to the entrance steps, a fine boy of fourteen ran out and assisted Miss -Claremont to descend, after which he nimbly climbed up beside the -driver, saying, “Oh! Mr. Dereker, isn’t it a jolly team?—won’t you let -me drive round to the stables; you know I can drive?” - -“You drive very well, for your time of life, Reggie, but these horses -pull, so be careful.” - -“I can hold them,” said the confident youngster, who, indeed, took over -the reins in a very workman-like manner, “besides they’ve done twenty -miles with a load behind them. Aren’t you going to stay all night?” - -“Might have thought of it, Reggie, but the ladies are not prepared; we -must get your sister to come instead—you too, if your father will let -you. I suppose Joe and Bertie are at home? How does Tasmania strike them -after the old country?” - -“Oh! they’re jolly glad to get back, though they’ve had a ripping time -of it. Father says they must set to work now for the next few years. -Who’s the man that was next to you? Englishman, I expect!” - -“Yes! Mr. Blount, only a year out. Seems a good sort, partner with -Tregonwell in that new silver mine, the Eldorado.” - -“My word! he’s dropped into a good thing, they say it’s ever so rich, -and getting better as they go down. I must get father to let me go to -the Laboratory in Melbourne, and study up mineralogy. It’s the best -thing going, for a younger son. I don’t want to be stuck at a farm all -my life, ploughing and harrowing for ever. Joe and Bertie will have the -old place, and I must strike out, to get anything out of the common.” - -“Quite right, Reggie, nothing like adventure, only don’t go too fast. -Here we are.” - -Reggie pulled up in the centre of a square, on all sides of which was a -goodly number of stalls, loose boxes, cow houses, and all things -suitable for a great breeding establishment, where pure stock of all -kinds were largely reared. The horses were promptly taken out and cared -for, while Mr. Dereker, admiringly gazed at by the whole staff, -exchanged a few words of greeting with the head groom, and older stable -men, before he accompanied Master Reggie to the great hall, which was -evidently used for morning reception. - -It had magnificent proportions, and was decorated, according to -traditional usage, with the spoils of the chase—mostly indigenous, -though the forest trophies gave evidence that the men of the house had -not always been home-keeping youths. In addition to fine heads of red, -and fallow deer, kangaroo skins, and dingo masks, “tigers” and “devils” -(Australian variety) stuffed, as also the rarer wombat and platypus, -there were trophies which told of hunting parties in the South African -“veldt,” and the jungles of Hindostan. Horns of the eland, and the -springbok, alternated with lion and tiger skins, bears and leopards! - -The sons of the first generation of landholders had gone far afield for -sport and adventure before they decided to settle down for life, in the -fair island which their fathers had won from the forest and the savage. - -There was scant leisure to muse over these, or other gratifying -developments, as the buzz of conversation, extremely mirthful and -vivacious, which was in full swing when Mr. Dereker and his young -companion entered the hall, was apparently accelerated by their arrival. - -A certain amount of chaff had evidently been directed against the two -collegians, so lately returned from their university. How did the men -and maidens of the old country compare with their compatriots here—in -athletics, in field sports, in looks (this related only to the feminine -division), and so forth? Mr. Joe and Mr. Bertie Bowyer had been -apparently hard set to hold their ground; beset as they were by -sarcastic advice, adjured to keep to the strict line of truth on one -side—but not to desert their native land on the other—they were in -imminent danger of wreck from Scylla, or Charybdis. Their opinions were -chiefly as follows: - -In athletics and field sports the colonists held their own fairly well, -with perhaps a trifle to spare. Notably in the hunting field; the small -enclosures and high stiff fences of Tasmania giving them practice and -experience over a more dangerous line of country than any in Britain. In -horsemanship, generally, the colonists were more at home, from having -been in youth their own grooms and horse-breakers. In shooting, and the -use of the gloves, particularly in the art of self-defence, the -Australians showed a disposition to excel. Already a few professionals -from Sydney had shown good form and staying power. In boating there was -a distinct and growing improvement, few of the Oxford and Cambridge -boat-races being without a colonist in one or other crew. There was -often one in both. This state of matters is hailed with acclamation. The -great advantage which the old country possessed in the way of sport lay -in the social environment. The difference between its pursuit here and -in Britain consisted in the fact that the seasons were carefully -defined, and the laws of each division strictly adhered to. Moreover, in -whatever direction a man’s tastes lay, hunting, fishing, shooting, or -coursing, he was always sure of the comradeship of the requisite number -of enthusiastic _habitués_ and amateurs. - -After lunch, which was a conspicuously cheerful reunion, it was decided -that a start homeward was to be made at four o’clock sharp. In the -meantime, the brothers Bowyer intimated their intention to drive over in -a mail phaeton, which they had brought out with them, built by Kesterton -of Long Acre, with all the newest improvements of the most fashionable -style. One of the Misses Bowyer and her friend, Jessie Allan, an -acknowledged belle from Deloraine, would join the party; Reggie might -come too, as he was a light weight, and would be useful for opening -gates. The intervening time was spent in exploring the orchard and -gardens, both of which were on an unusually extensive scale. The fruit -trees, carefully pruned and attended to, were of great age. Indeed Mr. -Blount felt impelled to remark that apparently one of the first things -the early settlers seem to have done, after building a house, not a -mansion, for that came afterwards, was to plant a garden and orchard. - -“Our grandfathers,” said Mr. Joe Bowyer, “remind me of the monks of old, -who, in establishing the abbeys, which I always examined in our walking -tours, for I am an archaeologist in a very small way, always took care -to choose a site not far from a trout stream, and with good meadow lands -adjoining, equally suitable for orchard, corn or pasture. These estates -mostly commenced with a Crown grant of a few thousand acres, such as -were given at the discretion of the early Governors, to retired officers -of the army and navy, many of whom decided to settle permanently in the -island. The grantee had a certain time allotted to make his choice of -location. This he employed in searching for the best land, with access -to markets, &c. In a general way, the country being open, and there -being at that time no system of sale by auction of bush land, the -nucleus was secured of what has since become valuable freeholds.” - -“I should think they were,” said the stranger guest, “and in the course -of time, with the increase of population, as the country becomes fully -settled, must become more valuable still. Do you look forward to -spending the whole of your lives here, you and your brother, or retiring -to England, where your rents, I should suppose, would enable you to live -very comfortably?” - -“We might have a couple of years in the old country,” said the Tasmanian -squire, “before we get too old to enjoy things thoroughly, but after a -run over the Continent, for a final memory, this is our native land, and -here we shall live and die.” - -“But the fulness of life in Britain, foreign travel, the great cities of -the world, music, art, literature such as can be seen and enjoyed in -such perfection nowhere else, why leave them for ever?” - -“Yes, of course, all that is granted, but a man has something else to do -in the world but merely to enjoy himself, intellectually or otherwise. -This land has made _us_, and we must do something for it in return. -Luxuries are the dessert, so to speak, of the meal which sustains life. -They fail to satisfy or stimulate after a while. We are Australians born -and bred; in our own land we are known and have a feeling of comradeship -with our countrymen of every degree. The colonist, after a few years, -has an inevitable feeling of loneliness in Europe, which he cannot shake -off. It is different with an Englishman however long he has lived here. -He goes home to his family and friends, who generally welcome him, -especially if he has made a fortune. Even they, however wealthy and used -to English life, often return to Australia. There is something -attractive in the freer life, after all.” - -“Yes, I suppose there must be,” and a half sigh ended the sentence, as -he thought of Imogen Carrisforth’s hazel eyes and bright hair, her frank -smile and joyous tones, a very embodiment of the charm and graces of -divine youth. A cloud seemed to have settled upon his soul, as his -companion led the way to the entrance hall, where the whole party was -collecting for the homeward drive. However, putting constraint upon his -mental attitude, he took his seat with alacrity beside his fair -companion of the morning. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - -THE return drive was made in slightly better time than the morning -journey, the English mail phaeton of the Messieurs Bowyer, with a pair -of exceptional trotters, taking the lead. The mounted contingent -followed at a more reasonable pace, as they had from time to time to put -“on a spurt” to come up with the drag, harness work, as is known to all -horsemen, keeping up a faster average pace than saddle. However, -everybody arrived safely at the Hall in excellent spirits, as might have -been gathered from the cheerful, not to say hilarious, tone which the -conversation had developed. Mr. Blount, in especial, whose ordinary -optimism had reasserted sway, told himself that (with one exception) -never had he enjoyed such a delicious experience of genuine country -life. There was no more time available than sufficed for a cup of -afternoon tea and the imperative duty of dressing for dinner. At this -important function the mistress of the house had exercised a wise -forecast, since, when the great table in the dining-room, duly laid, -flowered, and “decored with napery,” met the eyes of the visitors, it -was seen that at least double as many guests had been provided for as -had assembled at breakfast. “Dick!” said the host to Mr. Dereker, “Mrs. -Claremont says you are to take the vice-chair; you’ll have her on your -right and Miss Allan on your left—wisdom and beauty, you see—so you -can’t go wrong. Philip, my boy! you’re to take the right centre, with -Joe Bowyer and Miss Fotheringay on one side, Laura and Mr. Blount on the -other. Jack Fotheringay fronts you, with any young people he can get. I -daresay he’ll arrange that. You must forage for yourselves. Now I can’t -pretend to do anything more for you. I daresay you’ll shake down.” - -So they did. There was much joking and pleasant innuendo as the -necessary shufflings were made, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives -having to be displaced and provided with neighbours not so closely -related. Nothing was lacking as far as the material part of the dinner -was concerned—a famous saddle of mutton, home-grown from a flock of -Southdowns kept in the park, descended from an early English -importation; a grand roast turkey, upon which the all-accomplished Mr. -Dereker operated with practised hand, as did the host upon the -Southdown, expatiating at intervals upon the superiority of the breed -for mutton purposes only. The red currant jelly was a product of the -estate, superintended in manufacture by one of the daughters of the -house; trout from the river, black duck from the lake, equal to his -canvas-back relative of the Southern States; a haunch, too, of red deer -venison, Tasmanian born and bred. For the rest, everything was well -cooked, well served, and excellent of its kind. Worthy of such viands -was the appetite of the guests, sharpened by the exercise and a day -spent chiefly in the open air, the keen, fresh, island atmosphere. - -The host’s cellar, famous for age and quality in more than one colony, -aided the general cheerfulness. So that if any of the fortunate guests -at that memorable dinner had aught but praise for the food, the wines, -the company, or the conversation, they must have been exceptionally hard -to please. So thought Mr. Blount, who by and by joined the ladies, -feeling much satisfied with himself and all the surroundings. Not that -he had done more than justice to the host’s claret, madeira, and -super-excellent port. He was on all occasions a temperate person. But -there is no doubt that a few glasses of undeniably good wine, under -favourable conditions, such as the close of an admirable dinner, with a -dance of more than common interest to follow, may be considered to be an -aid to digestion, as well as an incentive to a cheerful outlook upon -life, which tends, physicians tell us, to longevity, with health of body -and mind. - -It happened, fortunately, to be a moonlight night. The day had been one -of those of the early spring, which warm, even hot, in the afternoon, -presage, in the opinion of the weather-wise, an early summer, which -prediction is chiefly falsified. But while this short glimpse of -Paradise is granted to the sons of men, no phrase can more truly -describe it. Cloudless days, warmth, without oppressive heat, tempered -by the whispering ocean breeze, beseeching the permission of the wood -nymphs to invade their secret haunts, all flower, and leaf, and herb -life responsive to the thrilling charm—the witchery of the sea voices. - -Such had been the day. That the drives and rides through the green -woodland, the hill parks, the meadow fields, had been absolutely perfect -all admitted. Now the evening air seemed to have gained an added -freshness. When the French windows of the ballroom were thrown open it -was predicted that many a couple would find the broad verandahs, or even -the dry and shaded garden paths, irresistibly enticing after the first -few dances. - -Such, indeed, was the case. What with accidental and invited guests, the -number had been increased to nearly twenty couples, all young, -enthusiastic, fairly musical, and devoted to the dance. - -The music, indeed, had been an anxiety to the hostess. The piano was a -fine instrument, luckily in perfect tune. Half the girls present could -play dance music effectively. But another instrument or two would be -_such_ an aid in support. - -Then inquiry was made; Chester of Oaklands was a musical amateur, the -violin was his favourite instrument, he was so good-natured that he -could be counted upon. Then there was young Grant of Bendearg, who -played the cornet. So, messengers with polite notes were despatched on -horseback, and both gentlemen, being luckily found at home, were -secured. The band was complete. Mr. Blount, with proper precaution, had -secured the hand of Miss Laura Claremont at dinner, for two waltzes, a -polka, and the after-supper galop; among her sisters and the late -arrivals he had filled his card. These had been written out by volunteer -damsels during the after-dinner wait. - -He had, therefore, no anxiety about his entertainment for the evening. -No time was lost after the conclusion of the dinner. The young ladies -from Cranstoun and Deepdene had, of course, brought the necessary -evening wear with them. Mr. Blount’s English war-paint had been stored -in Melbourne while he was learning something about gold-fields and -cattle-lifting, this last involuntarily. He was “accoutred proper,” and -as such, not troubled with anxiety about his personal appearance. The -Bowyers, of course, were resplendent in “the very latest” fashion; as to -canonicals, the other men were fairly up to the standard of British -evening toggery, and for the few who were not, allowances were made, as -is always the case in Australia. People can’t be expected to carry -portmanteaux about with them, especially on horseback, and as they were -among friends they got on quite as well in the matter of partners as the -others. - -It certainly was a good dance. The music kept going nobly. The young -lady at the piano was replaced from time to time, but the male musicians -held on till supper time without a break. When that popular distraction -was announced half-an-hour’s interval for refreshments was declared, -after which a good-natured damsel stole in, and indulged the insatiable -juniors with a dreamy, interminable waltz. Then the two men recommenced -with the leading lady amateur, and a polka of irresistible swing and -abandonment soon filled the room. - -Certainly a dance in the country in any part of Australia is an object -lesson as to the vigour and vitality of the race. All Australian girls -dance well—it would seem to be a natural gift. Chiefly slender, lissom, -yet vigorous in health, and sound in constitution, they dance on, -fleet-footed and tireless, as the fabled Nymphs and Oreads of ancient -Hellas. Hour after hour passed, still unwearied, unsated, were the -dancers, until the arrival of the soup suggested that the closure was -about to be applied. But the dawnlight was stealing over the summit of -the mountain range when the last galop had come to an end, and a few -couples were by way of cooling themselves in the verandah or the garden -paths. Here, and at this hour, Mr. Blount found himself alone with Laura -Claremont, who had indeed, in spite of faltering maiden remonstrance, -completed her fifth dance with him. He was not an unstable, -indiscriminate admirer, least of all a professional trifler with the -hearts of women, but he had been strongly attracted (perhaps interested -would be the more accurate word) by her quiet dignity, conjoined with -refinement and high intelligence. - -She had read largely, and formed opinions on important questions with -greater thoroughness than is the habit of girls generally. Without being -a recognised beauty, she had a striking and distinguished appearance. -Her dark hair and eyes, the latter large and expressive, the delicate -complexion for which the women of Tasmania are noted, in combination -with a noble figure and graceful shape, would have given her a foremost -position by looks alone in any society. The expression of her features -was serious rather than gay, but when the humorous element was invoked a -ripple of genuine mirth spread over her countenance, the display of -which added to her modest, yet alluring array of charms. - -Such was the woman with whom Blount had been thrown temporarily into -contact for the last few days, and this night had shown him more of her -inward thoughts and feelings, unveiled as they were by the accidents of -the dance and the driving party, than he had ever dreamed of. Returning -to the ballroom, the final adieus were made, and as he pressed her -yielding hand he felt (or was it fancy?) an answering clasp. - -On the following day he had arranged to leave for Hobart, as he expected -to deal with propositions lately submitted for the amalgamation of the -original prospecting claim with those adjoining, thus to include a -larger area upon which to float a company to be placed upon the London -market, with an increased number of shares. - -This had been done at the suggestion of Mr. Tregonwell, whose energetic -temperament was constantly urging him to cast about for improved -conditions of management, and a more profitable handling of the great -property which kind fortune had thrown into their hands. - -“What is the sense,” he had asked in his last letter from the mine, “of -going on in the slow, old-fashioned way, just turning out a few thousand -ounces of silver monthly, and earning nothing more than a decent income, -this fabulously rich ore body lying idle, so to speak, for want of -organisation and enterprise? The specimens already sent home have -prepared the British investors for the flotation of a company, of which -a large proportion of the shares will be offered to the public. I -propose to call a meeting of the shareholders in Number One and Two, -North, and South, and submit a plan for their consideration at once. - -“With our property thrown in we can increase the shares to five hundred -thousand one pound shares, resuming a hundred thousand paid up original -shares from the prospectors. You and I, Herbert and Clarke, pool the lot -and put them before the public, allotting so many to all applicants -before a certain day—after which the share allotment list will be -closed. With the increased capital, we can then carry out and complete -such improvements as are absolutely necessary for the working of the -mine on the most productive scale, ensuring a return of almost -incredible profits within a comparatively short period. In a series of -years, the price of silver may fall—the money market, in the event of -European wars, become restricted, and in fact the future, that unknown -friend or enemy to all mundane affairs, may blight the hopes and -expectations which now appear so promising. - -“Everything is favourable _now_, the mine, the output, the market—money -easy, machinery available on fair terms. But we don’t know how soon a -cloud _may_ gather, a storm—financial or political—may burst upon us. -The directors in the great Comstock Mine in America looked at things in -that light—doubled their capital, quadrupled their plant, built a -railway, and within five years banked dollars enough to enable the four -original prospectors (I knew Flood and Mackay well—worked with them in -fact—when we were all poor men) to become and _remain_ millionaires to -the end of their lives. Meanwhile giving entertainments, and building -palaces, which astonished all Europe, and America as well—a more -difficult matter by far. - -“Now, what do we want, you will ask, for all this development, this -Arabian Night’s treasure house? I say—and I am talking strict -business—that we must have, presuming that the ‘Great Tasmanian -Proprietary Comstock and Associated Silver Mines Company, Limited,’ -comes off, and the shares will be over-applied for twice over—what do we -want, I repeat? A battery with the newest inventions and improvements—a -hundred stamps to begin with. It may be, of course, increased; we shall -provide for such a contingency. - -“Secondly, we must have a railway—from the mine to the port—to carry our -men—materials, supplies generally. We can’t go back to this Peruvian -mode of transit-carrying—on men’s backs, at a frightful waste of time -and money. We can’t afford the _time_—it’s not a question so much of -money as of _time_, which is wasting money at compound interest. We want -a wharf at Strahan and a steamer of our own to take the ore to Callao. -She’ll pay for herself within the year. Is that all? I hear you asking -with your cynical drawl, which you affect, I know you, when you’re most -interested. - -“No, _sir_! as we all learnt to say in the States—the best comes last. -We want a first-class American mining manager—a real boss—chock full of -scientific training from Freiberg, practical knowledge gathered from -joining the first crowd at Sutter’s Mill—and more important than all, -the knack of keeping a couple of thousand miners, of different creeds, -countries and colours, all pulling one way, and him keeping a cool head -in strikes and other devilries that’s bound to happen in every big mine -in the world, specially when she’s doin’ a heap better than common—see! -His price is £5,000 a year, not a cent less—if you want the finished -article!” Here, Mr. Tregonwell’s fiery eloquence, albeit confined to -cold pen and ink, led him into the mining American dialect, so easy to -acquire, so difficult to dislodge—which he had picked up in his early -experiences. In the class with which he had chiefly associated in -earlier years, and to which he belonged in right of birth, he could be -as punctiliously accurate in manner and speech, as if he had never -quitted it. With a certain reluctance, as of one committing himself to a -voyage upon an unknown sea, his more prudent, but less practical partner -gave a guarded consent to these daring propositions, premising, however, -that the company must be complete in legal formation and the shares duly -allotted, before a cheque was signed by Frampton Tregonwell and Company, -in aid of operations of such colossal magnificence. - -Mr. Blount excused himself from accepting a pressing invitation to -remain another week at this very pleasant reproduction of English -country house life, on the plea of urgent private affairs, but he -acceded to Mr. Dereker’s suggestion that he should stay a night with him -at Holmby, on the way to Hobart, where he would undertake to land him an -hour or two before the coach could arrive. This was a happy conjunction -of business and pleasure, against which there was no valid argument. So, -with many regrets by guest and entertainers, and promises on the part of -the former to return at the earliest possible opportunity, he after -breakfast started in Mr. Dereker’s dog-cart from the hospitable -precincts of Hollywood Hall. - -Holmby, the well-known headquarters of the sporting magnates of the -island, was reached just “within the light,” though, as the road was -exceptionally good—metalled, bridged, and accurately graded all -through—the hour of arrival was not of great consequence. - -Mr. Dereker was a bachelor, and had mentioned something about bachelor’s -fare and pot luck generally, to which Mr. Blount, feeling equal to -either fortune, had made suitable reply. Rather to his surprise, -however, as his host had driven round to the stables they saw grooms and -helpers busy in taking out the team of a four-in-hand drag. - -The equipage and appointments arrested his attention, and caused him to -utter an exclamation. They constituted indeed an uncommon turn-out. An -English-built coach—such as the Four-in-hand and the coaching clubs -produce on the first day of the season, for the annual procession, so -anxiously awaited, so enthusiastically watched,—complete with every -London adjunct, from hamper to horn, etc. The horses had just been -detached, and were, at Mr. Dereker’s order, detained for inspection. -Four flea-bitten greys, wonderfully matched, and sufficiently large and -powerful to warrant their easy action in front of so heavy a drag, as -the one in which they had been driven over. Their blood-like heads, and -striking forehands, not less than their rounded back ribs, and powerful -quarters, denoted the fortunate admixture of the two noblest equine -families—the Arab and the English thoroughbred: of size and strength -they had sufficient for all or any harness work, while their beauty and -faultless matching would have graced any show-ground in England. - -“This team was bred by a relative of mine, who is a great amateur in the -coaching line, and is thought to be the best team in Australasia! His -place, Queenhoo Hall, is only fifteen miles off. He is a connection by -marriage: therefore we don’t stand on ceremony. I suspect he is giving -his team an airing before driving them to the Elwick Races next month, -where he always turns out in great style. You will not have a dull -evening, for his wife and a niece or two are sure to have accompanied -him.” - -In passing through the outer hall, such an amount of mirthful -conversation reached the ear, as led to the belief in Mr. Blount’s mind, -that either the number of the Squire’s nieces had been under-stated, or -that, according to the custom of the country, the coach had been -reinforced on the way. So it proved to be—the hall was apparently half -full of men and maidens, unto whom had been added a few married people, -as well as a couple of subalterns from a regiment then quartered in -Hobart. The chaperons were not noticeably older than their unmarried -charges, so that the expectation of a dance was fully justified. - -Mr. Blount was introduced to the “Squire,” as he was universally called, -as also to his nieces, two attractive-looking girls; and of course, to -all the other people, civil and military. He felt as he once did in the -west of Ireland, where he accepted so many invitations to spend a month, -that the number of months would have had to be increased if he had not -more than a year in which to keep holiday. He complimented the Squire, -with obvious sincerity, on his wonderful team, and promised, strictly -reserving compliance until after the flotation of the great mining -company, to visit him at Queenhoo Hall in the summer time now -approaching. The dinner and the dance were replicas of those he had -enjoyed at Hollywood. Here he had another opportunity of admiring the -lovely complexions, graceful figures, and perfect grace and fleetness of -the daughters of the land in the waltz or galop, and when he started for -Hobart soon after sunrise, the drive through the fresh morning air -dispelled all feelings of weariness, which, under the circumstances, he -might have felt, after hearing the cock crow two mornings running before -going to bed. - -“Heaven knows how long this sort of thing might have lasted, if that -letter of Tregonwell’s had not turned up last night,” he told himself. -“There is a time for all things—and if I do not mistake, it is high time -now, as our pastors and masters used to say, to make a stern division -between work and play—‘poculatum est, condemnatum est,’ so ‘nunc est -agendum’ in good earnest.” - - -Hobart, reached two hours before the coach could have drawn up before -the post-office, reassured him as to Mr. Dereker’s guarantee holding -good. A cab from the nearest stand bore him and his luggage to the -Tasmanian Club, where, freed from the distractions of country houses, he -was able to collect his thoughts before attacking the great array of -letters and papers, which met his eye when he entered his room. - -A copy of the morning paper reposing on the dressing-table disclosed the -fact in an aggressive headline that the Proprietary Tasmanian Comstock -and Associated Silver Mines Company (Limited) was already launched upon -the Australian mining world, and indeed upon that of Europe, and the -Universe generally. - -“The Directors of this magnificent silver property, which includes the -original Comstock Claim—amalgamated with the Associated Silver Mines -Company we understand”—wrote the fluent pen of the Editor of the -_Tasmanian Times_—“have at length succumbed to outside pressure, and in -the interest of the British and Colonial Public, consented to form these -mines of unparalleled richness into a company. The Directors are Messrs. -Valentine Blount, Frampton Tregonwell, and Charles Herbert and John -Westerfield Clarke, names which will assure the shareholders of -honourable and straightforward dealing at the hands of those to whom -their pecuniary interests are committed. These names are well and -favourably known in England, in Mexico, in the United States of America, -and the Dominion of Canada. Comment is superfluous—they speak for -themselves. - -“Wherever gold or silver mining is carried on the names of Clarke and -Tregonwell are familiar as ‘household words’ and always associated with -skilled treatment and successful operations. That this enterprise will -have a beneficial effect not only upon the mining, but on the -commercial, and all other industries of Tasmania, lifting her, with her -fertile soil, her equable climate, her adaptability for all agricultural -and pastoral products to her proper place in the front rank of -Australian colonies no sane man can henceforth doubt. A line of steamers -from Strahan to Hobart, a short though expensive railway, and a metalled -coach road, are among the indispensable enterprises which Mr. Tregonwell -assured our representative would be commenced without delay. Advance, -Tasmania!” - -Looking hastily through the pile of unopened letters, but keeping -private-and-confidential-appearing correspondence strictly apart, and -relegating those in Mr. Tregonwell’s bold, rapid handwriting, to a more -convenient season, he started, and trembled, as his eye fell upon a -letter in Mrs. Bruce’s handwriting which bore the Marondah postmark. His -heart almost stopped beating, when an enclosed note fell out, still more -likely to affect his inmost soul. Yes! it was in the handwriting, so -closely scanned, so dearly treasured in the past, of Imogen Carrisforth. -For the moment, a spasm of regret, even remorse affected him painfully. -He stood self-convicted by his conscience of having lingered in -frivolous, social enjoyment, while uncertain of the welfare and feelings -of one who had aroused the deepest emotions of his being, nor had he -(with shame he reflected) taken all possible means to discover to what -circumstance it was that his letters had been apparently treated with -indifference or contempt. - -Mrs. Bruce’s letter gave an explanation which, though not fully -comprehensive, cleared up a part of the mystery, as far as Imogen was -concerned. It ran as follows:— - - -“DEAR MR. BLOUNT,—I am afraid you must have thought us a very -ill-mannered set of people, as it seems by your letter of — that you -have not received _any answer_ to your letters written the night before -you left Bunjil for Melbourne. Yet, it was scarcely our fault. That poor -lad who was drowned in the flood, which rose on the _very day_ you left, -carried answers from me and Imogen; these, I think, you would have -considered friendly, and even in a sense apologetic for my husband’s -attitude in condemning you unheard. We both scolded him soundly for -deciding your case so hastily, in disregard of the laws of evidence. -_He_ particularly, who is looked upon as the best magistrate on the -Marondah bench. We got him to hear reason at last, and to write -expressing regret that he had made no allowance for your ignorance of -our bush population, and their ways with stock. This letter was in the -bags of the mail coach to Waroonga, and _it also_ was lost when two -horses were drowned at Garlung: the bridge being six feet under water. -None of the passengers were injured, but the coach was swept down the -stream with the mail bags, which have not been recovered. It certainly -was a most unlucky occurrence, for all concerned. - -“When your letter from Melbourne arrived, poor Imogen was laid up with a -bad attack of influenza, from the effects of which she was confined to -bed for several weeks, her lungs having been attacked and pneumonia -supervening; so that what with nursing her, and Mr. Bruce having left on -a three months’ trip to Queensland, all correspondence was suspended for -a while. She was very nearly _dying_, and in fact was given up by two -out of three of the doctors who attended her! - -“Her good constitution pulled her through, and she has regained her -former health, though not her spirits, poor girl! - -“Then, after she was up, all these accounts of your wonderful success in -Tasmania, and large fortune derived from the Tasmanian Silver Mine (I -can’t recollect its name) were circulated in the district. On account of -this she did not write, as I wanted her to do, fearing (very foolishly, -as I told her) lest you might think her influenced by your altered -fortunes. She is not that sort of girl, I can safely assert. The man who -touched her heart would remain there installed, for richer, for poorer, -till death’s parting hour. - -“Whether you have said more to her than she has told me—she is very -reserved about herself—I cannot say. I have written fully, perhaps too -much so, as to which I trust to your honour, but my sole intention has -been to clear up all doubts on your part, as to the feeling which -actuates us as a _family_, about the past misunderstanding. I enclose a -scrap which she gave me reluctantly. - - “Yours sincerely, - “HILDEGARDE BRUCE.” - - -Mr. Blount picked up the half sheet of notepaper, which having kissed -reverently, and indeed twice repeated the action, he read as follows. -Very faint and irregular were the characters:— - - -“What a chapter of accidents since you left! Poor Johnny Doyle drowned! -my letter and Hilda’s lost. Your reply also never came. - -“My illness, in which I was ‘like to die’ following closely. - -“We thought you had left without troubling to answer our letters—at -least, _they_ did. My sister has written you _sheets_, so I need not -enlarge upon matters. Edward is still in Queensland. The weather is -lovely now, after the cold winter. If you can tear yourself away from -Hobart, you might see what Marondah looks like in early summer. - - “Yours truly, - “IMOGEN.” - - -Mr. Blount’s reply, _by telegram_, was sent with no unnecessary loss of -time:— - - -“Leaving for Melbourne and Marondah by to-morrow’s steamer.” - - -Other letters, papers, circulars, requests, invitations in shoals lay -ready for inspection. All the tentative appeals, complimentary and -otherwise, which track the successful individual in war or peace, law, -letters, or commerce. A large proportion of these were transmitted to -the waste-paper basket—a piece of furniture now rendered necessary by -the volume of Mr. Blount’s correspondence. - -He felt inclined to burn the whole lot, excepting those relative to the -development of the Tasmanian Comstock and Associated Silver Mines -Company (Limited), now stamped on a score of large and portentous -envelopes. - -Making a final search, a letter was detached from a superincumbent mass, -the superscription of which had the Tumut and Bunjil postmarks. This was -sufficient to arrest his attention. The handwriting, too, was that of -Sheila Maguire, whose interest in his welfare did not seem to have -declined. - - -“DEAR MR. BLOUNT,—I little thought, when I used to get up at all hours -to make you comfortable in our back block shanty, that this humble -individual was ministering (that’s a good word, isn’t it? I’ve been -reading up at odd times) to the wants of a Director of the Great -Comstock Silver Mines Company. What a lark it seems, doesn’t it? And -you, that didn’t know the difference between quartz and alluvial then! - -“Shows what a fine country Australia is, when a gentleman may be nearly -run in for ‘duffing’ one month, and the next have all the world bowing -and scraping to him as a millionaire! That’s not my line, though, is it? -The money, if you had ten times as much, wouldn’t make Sheila Maguire -more your friend—your _real friend_—than she is now. The other way on, -if anything. And there’s a young lady down the river—not that I even -myself with _her_, only she’s a ‘cornstalk’—one of the same brand, as -the saying is. _She_ don’t mind the dirty money—any fool can come by -that, or any man that’s contented to live like a black-fellow, and save -farthings till they mount up. He can’t help it. But who’d take him, with -his muck-rake? - -“Great book, _Pilgrim’s Progress_, isn’t it? Just fell across it. - -“‘What the devil’s the girl driving at?’ I hear you say. That’s not much -of a swear for Bunjil, is it? Well, you’ll see about it in the -postscript, by and by. - -“First and foremost, I want a hundred shares in the Great Comstock -Associated. On the ground floor. _Original_, like the Broken Hill -Proprietary. - -“An uncle of mine, old Barney Maguire, of Black Dog Creek, died a month -ago, and left us boys and girls five thousand apiece. _He_ couldn’t read -and write, but he had ten thousand acres of good freehold land, river -flats, too, and a tidy herd of cattle—every one knows the ‘B. M.’ brand. -Some good horses, too. Comes of saving and screwing. He lived by the -creek bank in an old bark hut with two rooms, never married, and never -gave one of us boys and girls the value of a neck-ribbon or a -saddle-strap while he was alive. I’m sending a cheque for the scrip, so -make your secretary post them at once. As you’re a director, you’ll have -to sign your _real_ name, so I’ll know what it is. I never was sure of -the other. You’re born lucky, and I’m going to back you right out. -Perhaps I am, too, and might rise in life; who knows? I’m going to work -up my education on the chance. What I learned at She-oak Flat’ll stick -to me. So we’ll see. And now for the postscript. I looked it out—derived -from _post scriptum_ (_written after_). Never thought what ‘P.S.’ meant -before. Easy enough when you know, isn’t it? - -“Well, ‘let me see!’ says the blind man—oh! I forgot; that’s vulgar—no -more of that for Miss Sheila Maguire—one of the Maguires of Tumut. ‘Fine -gal, aw. Hear she’s got money, don’t yer know?’ Ha! ha! they won’t catch -me that way. ‘I’ve travelled,’ though it’s only on a bush track. False -start; come back to the post, all of you! The straight tip is this—‘a -dead cert.’ I had it from my cousin, Joe Macintyre, her that was maid to -Mrs. Bruce. Miss Imogen _hadn’t influenza_—only a bit of a cold; but she -was real bad and low, all the same, after a certain gentleman went away. -No word, and _no letters came back_. She’d sit and cry for hours. No -interest in anything; not a smile out of her for days. Then she got ill, -and no mistake; lower and lower—close up died. Doctors gave her up. Had -to go to Sydney for change. I saw her in the train at Wagga. My word! I -hardly knew her. She was that dog-poor and miserable, pale as a ghost, I -nearly cried. Now she’s home again, and looks better, Joe says. - -“But if _some one_ doesn’t turn up before the summer’s well on, I shall -know what to think him who _was_ a man and a gentleman, but that no one -about here will call either the one or the other again, least of all, - - “His friend and well-wisher, - “SHEILA MAGUIRE. - -“P.S. No. 2.—Strikes me this isn’t very different to the Church Service, -which begins with ‘Dearly beloved,’ and ends with ‘amazement.’ What do -you think?” - - -Mr. Blount couldn’t help smiling at certain sentences in this frank and -characteristic epistle. But he looked grave enough at the concluding -one. This was the light then in which his conduct would appear to the -rural inhabitants of the township and district of Bunjil. - -Simple and chiefly unlettered they might be, but shrewd and accurate to -a wonderful degree in their discernment of character. - -It was evident that the false cavalier who “loved, and who rode away,” -would have small consideration shown him on the day when he might fall -in with half a dozen Upper Sturt men at annual show or race meeting. -There was a veiled threat in Sheila’s closing sentence, and though, in -his or any other defaulter’s case, retributive justice might be stayed -or wholly miscarry, yet it was not a pleasant thought that any act of -his should bear the interpretation of bad faith; or that sentence of -excommunication would, so to speak, be pronounced against him from one -end of the river and the great Upper Sturt district to the other. By -gentle and simple alike there would be unanimous agreement on that -score. From the “mountain men” of the Bogongs and Talbingo, to the -sun-burned plain-riders of the Darling, the vigorous English of the -Waste would be searched for epithets of scorn and execration. - -In the old Saxon days of the first Christian King, the epithet of -“niddering” (worthless), which men committed suicide rather than endure, -would have been decreed. Even the rude miners of the West would feel -injured. From club to hotel, from the cool green, sunless forests of the -Alpine chain, where the snow-fed rills tinkled and gurgled the long, -bright summer through, to the burning, gold-strewn deserts of West -Australia, he would be a marked man, pointed at as the coward who won a -girl’s heart and “cleared out,” because he happened to “strike it rich” -in another colony. - -Luckily for his state of mind and the condition of his business -prospects, Mr. Tregonwell happened to turn up a day earlier than he was -expected, so that by sitting far into the night in council with that -experienced though fervid operator, things were put into train; so that -he and the resident directors would, with the help of a power of -attorney, arrange all the advertising and scrip printing without further -aid from Valentine Blount. - -There was not much need for pushing ahead the concerns of the Great -Tasmanian Comstock, by which name it was chiefly known and designated. -The whole island seemed to be in a ferment. The public and the share -market only needed restraining. It was, of course, only in the hurry and -crush of applications for scrip, in resemblance to the South Sea—well, -we’ll say, Excitement of old historic days. The blocks of silver ore, -“native silver,” malachite, and other specimens exhibited behind a huge -plate glass window in Davey Street, had driven the city wild. Crowds -collected around it, and a couple of stalwart policemen were specially -stationed there by the inspector to prevent unseemly crushing and riot. -In addition well-armed night watchmen were provided at the expense of -the Comstock Company for the nocturnal safety of the precious deposits. -The _Pateena_ was to leave for her customary conflict with the rough -waves of Bass’s Straits at 12 a.m. So, after a hard night’s work, the -“popular director” took a parting smoke and retired for what sleep was -likely to visit him by 8 a.m., when the two partners were to breakfast -together. Mr. Blount had not a tranquil experience of “tired nature’s -sweet restorer.” “Little-River-Jack,” the Sergeant, and Sheila Maguire -pursued one another through the Bunjil forest, accompanied by the doomed -mail-boy and Mr. Bruce. Sergeant Dayrell had apparently come to life -again, and was standing pistol in hand with the same devilish sneer on -his lips, face to face with Kate Lawless and Ned. Then the melancholy -_cortège_ moved across the scene, with the police riding slowly, as they -led the spare horses upon which was tied the dead inspector and the -wounded trooper. All things seemed sad, funereal, and out of keeping -with the enforced gaiety and cordial hospitality which he had lately -enjoyed. It was a relief on awakening to find, all unrefreshed as he -was, that he had ample time in which to recruit, by means of the shower -bath and matutinal coffee, his hardly-taxed mental and physical -energies. However, all was ready to respond to the breakfast bell, -specially ordered and arranged for, and when Mr. Tregonwell, looking as -if he had gone to bed early and was only anxious about the _Hobart -Courier_, entered the breakfast room, all tokens of despondency vanished -from Mr. Blount’s countenance. - -Then only he realised that a creditably early start was feasible—was -actually in process of operation. - -“Look here!” exclaimed that notoriously early bird, producing two copies -of the _Courier_, of which he handed his friend one, “Read this as a -preliminary, and keep the paper in your pocket for board-ship -literature.” - -It was, indeed, something to look at, as the supplement displayed under -gigantic headlines this portentous announcement— - - - “THE TASMANIAN COMSTOCK AND ASSOCIATED - SILVER MINES COMPANY, LIMITED. - -“Acting under legal advice, the Directors have decided to close the -share list of this unparalleled mine, of which the ore bodies at greater -depths are daily disclosing a state of _phenomenal richness_. All -applications for shares not sent in by the fifteenth day of the present -month will be returned. If over-applied for—of which information will be -furnished by the incoming English mail—applicants will have shares -allotted to them in the order of their priority.” - - -This was to Mr. Blount sufficient information for the present. The -future of the mine was assured, and he was merely nervously anxious that -no malignant interference with the normal course of events should -prevent his arriving in Melbourne on the following day, in time to take -his berth in the Sydney Express that afternoon—which indeed he had -telegraphed for the day before. The partners had arrived on board the -_Pateena_, now puffing angrily, with full steam up, a full half hour -before the advertised time, owing to Mr. Blount’s anxiety not to be -late, and were walking up and down the deck, Tregonwell in vain -attempting to get his fellow director to listen to details, and Blount -inwardly fuming at the delay and cursing the Tasmanian lack of -punctuality and general slackness, when two shabbily-dressed men stepped -on board, one of whom walked up to the friends, tapped Mr. Blount on the -shoulder, and producing a much crumpled piece of paper, said shortly, “I -arrest you in the Queen’s name, by virtue of this Warrant!” - -To describe Mr. Blount’s state of mind at this moment is beyond the -resources of the English language—perhaps beyond those of any language. -Rage, mortification, surprise, despair almost, struggled together in his -mind, until his heart seemed bursting. - -For a moment it seemed, as he threw off his captor with violence, and -faced the pair of myrmidons with murder in his eye, as if he intended -resistance in spite of law, order, and all the forces of civilisation. -But his companion, cooler in situations of absolute peril as he was more -impetuous in those of lighter responsibility, restrained him forcibly. - -“Nonsense! keep calm, for God’s sake, and don’t make a scene. Just allow -me to look at the warrant,” he said to the apprehending constable. “I -wish to see if it is in order. I am a magistrate of the territory. I can -answer for my friend, who, though naturally disgusted, is not likely to -resist the law.” - -The men were placated by this reasonable treatment of the position. - -“The warrant seems in order,” said Tregonwell. “The strange part of it -is that it should not have been cancelled all this time, as we know that -no proceedings were taken by the police at Bunjil in consequence of the -non-appearance of the prosecution for the Crown. How this warrant got -here and has been forwarded for execution is the astonishing part of the -affair. Do you know,” he said, addressing the peace officer, “how this -warrant came into the hands of the Department here?” - -“Forwarded for execution here, sir,” said the man civilly, “with a batch -of New South Wales warrants, chiefly for absconders, false pretences -men, and others who have a way of crossing the Straits. It oughtn’t to -have been allowed to run, as the case wasn’t gone on with. The acting -clerk of the bench there is a senior constable, not quite up in his -work; he has made a mistake, and got it mixed up with others. Most -likely it’s a mistake, but all the same, the gentleman must come with us -for the present.” - -“All right, constable, we’ll go with you, and make no attempt to escape. -Bail will be forthcoming—in thousands, if necessary.” - -The steamer’s bell began to sound, and after a few minutes, and a -hurried colloquy with the captain, who promised to see his unlucky -passenger’s luggage delivered at the Imperial Club, the friends -descended into the boat, and Tregonwell read out the warrant in his -hands. It was apparently in order:— - - -“To Senior Constable Evans and to all Police Officers and Constables in -the Colony of Victoria.—You are hereby commanded to arrest Valentine -Blount—known as ‘Jack Blunt,’ at present supposed to be working in the -‘Lady Julia’ claim, forty miles from Bunjil, on the Wild Horse Creek, in -company with Phelim and Patrick O’Hara, also George Dixon (known as -Lanky), and to bring him before me or any other Police Magistrate of -Victoria. This warrant is issued on the sworn information of Edward -Hamilton Bruce, J.P. of Marondah, on the Upper Sturt, and for such -action this shall be your warrant. - - “(_Signed_) H. BAYLEY, P.M.” - - -The sorely-tried lover felt much more inclined to fling himself into the -waters of the Derwent, and there remain, than to occupy for one moment -longer this ignominious position at the hands of the myrmidons of the -law. However, the next step, of course, was to interview the police -magistrate of Hobart at his Court House, and after having explained the -circumstances, to apply for bail, so that the period of detention might -be shortened as much as possible. This process of alleviation was -effected without unnecessary delay, the magistrate being a reasonable, -experienced person, and as such inclined to sympathise with the victim -of malign fate, obviously not of the class with which he had been for -years judicially occupied. - -The officer briefly stated the case, produced the warrant, and delivered -up his prisoner, who was permitted to take a chair. Mr. Parker, P.M., -scanned the warrant with keen and careful eye before committing himself -to an opinion. After which he bestowed a searching glance upon Mr. -Blount, and thus delivered himself: - -“It appears,” he said, “that this warrant was issued, with several -others, upon the sworn information of Edward Hamilton Bruce, J.P., of -Marondah, Upper Sturt, who had reason to believe that the person -named—viz., Valentine Blount—generally known as ‘Jack Blunt,’ was -concerned with Phelim O’Hara, Patrick O’Hara, George Dixon (otherwise -Lanky), and John Carter, known as ‘Little-River-Jack,’ in stealing and -disposing of certain fat cattle branded E.H.B., the property of the said -Edward Hamilton Bruce. It is now the 20th of November,” said the worthy -P.M., “and I note that this warrant was signed on the 10th of September -last. By a curious coincidence I have this morning received a -communication from the Department of Justice in Victoria informing me -that separate warrants were issued for the persons named in the -information, but that, owing to deficiency of proof and difficulty of -identification of the stock suspected to have been killed or otherwise -disposed of, the Crown Solicitor has ordered a _Nolle Prosequi_ to be -entered. ‘In accordance with which decision, notices of such action were -signed by the bench of magistrates at Bunjil, Victoria, and the -warrants, in the names of Phelim O’Hara, Patrick O’Hara, George Dixon -(_alias_ Lanky), and John Carter (_alias_ Little-River-Jack), were -cancelled. But through inadvertence, the warrant in the name of -Valentine Blount (otherwise Jack Blunt) had been mislaid, and, with -other documents, forwarded to James Parker, Esq., P.M., Hobart. He is -requested to return the said warrant to the Department of Justice, and -if the said warrant has been by misadventure executed, to release at -once the said Valentine Blount, known as “Jack Blunt.” - - “‘I remain, sir, - “‘Your obedient servant, - “‘GEORGE B. HARRISON, - “‘_Under Secretary of Justice_.’ - - -“That being the case, I have the pleasure to congratulate you, sir, on -your escape from a very unpleasant position, and to apologise on behalf -of the Department with which I am connected, for the unfortunate -mistake, as well as for all consequences to which it may have led in -your case. Sergeant, let the accused be discharged.” - -Thus, after undergoing tortures, as to which the same time spent on a -rack of the period—say in the time of His Most Christian Majesty, Philip -of Spain—would have been a trifling inconvenience, was our unlucky -_détenu_ restored to liberty. - -After bowing to the genial P.M., who had seen so many discomfitures, -disasters, and disorders, that nothing was likely to cause him surprise -or disturb his serenity, the friends returned to their club to lunch, as -well as to make such arrangements for the morrow as might suffice for -clearing out to Melbourne with the least possible delay and public -disturbance. Fortunately, another steamer on a different line, just -arrived from Callao and the Islands, was due for an early start in the -morning. Mr. Blount resolved, after dining at the club, to spend the -night on board of her so as to have no bother about getting ready before -daylight, at which time the skipper promised departure. Frampton -Tregonwell, the friend in need, would bear him company and help to keep -up his spirits so rudely dashed until the time arrived for the partial -oblivion of bed, which, indeed, it was long before he found. - - * * * * * - -Next morning, however, the excitement of a gale took him out of his -self-consciousness for a few hours, and the unfamiliar companionship of -the passengers aided the cure. He was only partially recovered from a -state of shock and annoyance, but could not help being attracted by the -men and women; they were of rare and striking types, such as were around -him, in all directions. - -They were certainly cosmopolitan—grizzled island traders, sea-captains, -and mates out of employment at present. Adventurers of every kind, sort, -and degree, with their wives and families of all shades of colour and -complexion. Speaking all languages indifferently ill, Spanish and -Portuguese, French, German and Italian, and, of course, English more or -less undefiled. The men were fine specimens physically, bold, frank, -hardy-looking, such as might be expected to reply with knife and -revolver to adverse argument. Handsome dark women and girls, with -flashing eyes and unrivalled teeth, who seemed perfectly at home, and -regarded the wildest weather with curiosity rather than with -apprehension. Sydney seemed familiar to many as their port of arrival -and departure, which, having reached, they were more free to find -passage to the ends of the earth. - -Such a happy-go-lucky unconventional crowd of passengers, it had rarely -been Mr. Blount’s lot to encounter, far-travelled though he was. The -captain, mates and ship’s crew were, in their way, equally removed from -ordinary personages. One could imagine the captain—a spare, saturnine -American—a pirate, suddenly converted by a missionary bishop—bearing his -captives of the lower hold, previously doomed to torture and spoliation, -to a free port, there to be released, unharmed, with all their goods and -chattels scrupulously returned. Here was an opportunity altogether -unparalleled, presented to “an observer of human nature.” - -But it was like many other gifts of the gods, presented to the dealer in -the souls and bodies of his fellow creatures (intellectually regarded), -at the precise time and place, when, from circumstances, he could make -no use of the situation. A banquet of the gods, and not the ghost of an -appetite wherewith to savour it! - -In his present mood, had Helen of Troy, accompanied by Paris and -Achilles, with Briseis as “lady help,” been one of the strangely -assorted crowd (there _were_ half a dozen modern Greeks on board, miners -returning from an inspection of an alleged “mountain of tin”)—even then -he would not have listened with interest to their respectful -cross-examination of the “goddess moulded” as to her adventures since -the fall of Troy, or her well-grounded apprehension of her probable fate -under adverse feminine rule. - -All romance, sympathy, curiosity even were dead within him for the -present. Fate had counter-checked him too often. He expected nothing, -hoped nothing, but feared everything—until his arrival at the homestead -on the Upper Sturt, when he could see Imogen, pale, perhaps, and more -fragile than when last she turned her impatient horse’s head -homeward—but infinitely lovely and dearer than all, as having proved her -loyalty to him, from their first meeting by the waters of the Great -River, in despite of doubt, calumny, and unjust accusation. - -All these were gone and disposed of; now was the season of faith and -fruition—the reward of her love, and truth—of his constancy. Here his -complacent feeling of perhaps scarcely justified self-laudation faltered -somewhat. Yes! he _had_ been true—he _had_ been faithful—any other -feeling was merely involuntary deflection from his ideal, and he was now -going to claim his prize! - -The wind stilled. The sea went down. The stars came out. The soft air of -the Great South Land, hidden away from the restless sea-rover for -centuries untold, until the keel of the great English captain floated -into the peerless haven, enveloped the wave-worn bark, as with a mantle -of peace and forgiveness; their voyage was practically, virtually, at an -end. Mr. Blount remained on deck smoking with the more hardened of the -foreign passengers, who apparently needed not sleep at all, until the -midnight hour; then wearily sought his cabin. Cabin indeed, he had none, -for, determined to get away at all hazards, he had expressed his total -indifference to such a luxury, and his willingness to sleep under the -cabin table, if necessary, only provided that he got a passage. The -captain said if that were so he could come, taking his chance of a bed -or sofa. However, he had been to sea before. A judicious _douceur_ to -the head steward procured him, after a certain hour, one of the saloon -lounges, and the privilege of dressing in that important functionary’s -cabin. Awake with the dawn, he found himself just in time to witness the -safe passage of the _Donna Inez_ through the tumultuous harbour entrance -of the “Rip,” and after a decent interval, to arrive, undisturbed by -anxiety about luggage, at the ever open door of the Imperial Club. - -Here, with his property around him—apparently safe and uninjured—he -began to find himself an independent traveller of means and position -again. He had been relieved of the horrible uncertainty of delay—the -doubt and fear connected with a trial for a criminal offence, and all -the other disagreeables, if not dangers, of a discreditable position. -His railway ticket had already been taken for Waronga, whence the coach -on the ensuing morning, after a daylight breakfast, would take him on to -Marondah. - -All went well. He saw again the rippling river, the friendly face of -Mrs. Bruce—he had always delighted in that dear woman—so refined, so -ladylike, and yet practical and steadfast. The ideal wife and -mother—remote from the metropolis, and the frivolous slaves of -fashion—yet how infinitely superior to them all. He saw the fair Imogen -coming to meet him, shyly repressing her joy and gratitude for the turn -which their fortunes had taken, but only refraining on account of the -spectators from throwing herself into his arms. This she confessed -afterwards, after a decent interval of explanation, and full confessions -on both sides. Neither of them would own to have been the most overjoyed -at the meeting, delayed as it had been by an apparent conspiracy of all -the powers of darkness. - -Mr. Bruce had not as yet returned from the “Ultima Thule” of Western -Queensland, where he had a share in an immense cattle station. His stay -had been protracted and unsatisfactory. A dry season had set in—had -followed several rainless years, in fact—nothing could exceed the -frightful position of the squatters in that district. - -The destruction of stock was awful, unparalleled. Never since the first -white man’s foot had touched Australia’s shore, had there been such -loss, and probable ruin (he wrote to his wife). - -He should be glad to get back to Marondah, to see some decent grass -again, and hear the river rippling through the calm still night, and the -river-oaks murmuring to the stars. _That_ was something like a country. -He would take the first chance to sell out of Mount Trelawney, and never -go out of Victoria for an investment again. - -So Edward Bruce had written in a peaceable mood. He supposed a general -amnesty must be declared, and all be forgiven and forgotten. By the way, -he met Jack Carter (Little-River-Jack) at a place not a hundred miles -from Roma (he wrote). “He was in a position to do me a service at a -critical juncture, and did it heartily and effectively. So all scores -are cleared between him and me. You mustn’t suppose, however, that I am -in danger of my life, or that bushranging, cattle-stealing, and an -occasional interchange of revolver shots, is part of the order of the -day. What I mention is exceptional, and I don’t wish it to go further -for several reasons. - -“The Manager, Mackenzie, and I were riding along rather late one -evening, and a good twelve or fifteen miles from home. The weather (of -course) was fine, but the hour was late, and the sun, which had been -glaring at us all day, only just about to set. - -“‘By George! that’s a big mob of horses,’ said Mac., ‘going fast too. -Coming from the back of Goornong and heading for Burnt Creek. Six men -and a black boy. Depend upon it, there’s something “cronk.” They might -see us yet. Yes, they do! They’ve halted. Left two men and the boy with -the mob, and the rest, four men, are coming across the plains to us.’ - -“‘Do you know who they are?’ - -“‘I can pretty well guess,’ he said. ‘They’re a part of that crowd that -we broke up last year, a very dangerous lot! The big man with the beard -is Joe Bradfield, the best bushman in all Queensland, and perhaps -Australia, to boot. The chap alongside him is “Jerry the Nut.” _He’s_ a -double-dyed scoundrel, if you like, twice tried for murder, and ought to -have been hanged years ago, if he’d got his rights. Supposed to have -shot “Jack the Cook,” who quarrelled with him, and started in for -Springsure to give the lot away, but never got there. Found dead in the -Oakey Creek with two bullets in him. Jerry was proved to have overtaken -him on the road; was the last man seen with him alive. Put on his -trial—a strong case against him, but not sufficient evidence. Here they -come. We’ve seen them in possession of stolen horses. I expect they’ve -duffed them from that Bank station, that was taken over last week. They -may think it safer to “rub us out.” They’re villains enough for -anything. You’re armed, and my “navy, No. 1” is pretty sure at close -quarters. Cut off by —! we may have to ride for it too—’ As he spoke, -three men emerged from a clump of brigalow at an angle from the line at -which the ‘horse thieves’ were riding. They also made towards us, and -riding at speed, seemed as if they desired to reach us at about the same -time as the others. Such, it appeared, would be the case. - -“The four men that had left the mob of horses, rode at the station -overseer and me as if they would ride over us. Then pulled up with the -stock-horses’ sudden halt, not brought up on their haunches, like those -of the gaucho of Chile or the cowboy of the Western States, by the -merciless wrenching curb, but with the half pull of the plain snaffle, -the only bit the bushman knows, when with loose rein, and lowered head, -the Australian camp horse drives his fore-feet into the ground, and -stops dead as if nailed to the earth. - -“‘What the h—l are you two doing here?’ shouted the tall man, a Hercules -in height and breadth of shoulder, yet sitting his horse with the ease -and closeness of early boyhood, though his beard and coal-black hair -were already streaked with grey. Tracking us down? My God! it’s the -worst lay you was ever on. Isn’t a man to ride across a plain in the -blasted squatters’ country without he has a pass from a magistrate? -That’s what it’s coming to. Well, you’re on the wrong lay this trip. -Come along back with us, or we’ll make yer. - -“‘And look dashed quick about it, or ye’ll not come back at all. Bring -up the darbies, Joe! We’ll see how the bloomin’ swells like ’em.’ - -“As the last speaker uttered this threat, he and the other men raised -their revolvers. - -“‘I’ll see you d—d first,’ I replied (excuse bad language). ‘We’re from -Trelawney this morning, and on our lawful business.’ Here I drew my -revolver. - -“The encounter looked doubtful, when the three new arrivals rode up, -and, like the other bushmen, stopped dead, with their horses side by -side. - -“‘No, yer don’t!’ said one of the new arrivals, a man as tall and -massive as the first ‘robber’ (for such he seemed). ‘I’m not goen’ to -stand by and see Mr. Bruce, of Marondah, double-banked by you Queensland -duffers while I’m round. There’s been trouble between him and our crowd; -but he’s a man and a gentleman, and I’m here to stand by him to the -bitter end. It’s five go four now, so fire away, and be d—d to you!’ - -“‘Who the devil are you?’ - -“‘I’m Phelim O’Hara, and this is Little-River-Jack, and my brother Pat. -We’ve come up, like the Proosians at Waterloo, rather late in the day; -but “better late than never.” You’re Joe Bradfield, that we’ve heard of, -and Jerry the Nut that murdered his mate, I suppose. So you’d better go -back to the French, and let the allies go their own way. No one’s goen’ -to give you away, if your own foolishness doesn’t. We’re on our own -ground, so hear reason and clear out. I heard a big lot of police, and -Superintendent Gray, of Albany, was on yer track.’ - -“‘When did you hear that?’ - -“‘No later than yesterday. And you’re ridin’ straight into their -bloomin’ arms, if yer don’t get back the way yer kem’ in. Take a fool’s -advice, and get into the ranges again. This country’s too open for your -crowd, and you’ll have to do the gully-raker’s racket for a month or -two, till the “derry’s” toned down a bit.’ - -“This apparently reasonable advice seemed to have weight with the troop -of highly irregular horse, as, after a short colloquy, they rode back to -their companions in charge of the horses, and heading them towards the -distant ranges, disappeared shortly from sight. - -“‘O’Hara!’ said I, ‘whatever you and your mates may have done in the -past—at any rate, as far as I am concerned—is now past and gone. I -freely forgive anything that there may have been to forgive, in -consequence of your manly conduct to-day. If you will come back with me -to the head station, I dare say Mr. Mackenzie can find you something to -do in this bad season. Unfortunately, we have only too many vacancies -for bushmen like yourselves and Jack Carter.’ - -“‘We’ll take your word for it, Mr. Bruce,’ said Little-River-Jack; ‘and, -if we come to terms, there’ll be no station on the Upper Sturt that’ll -lose fewer stock—barrin’ from the season—while we’re to the fore.’ - -“‘All right,’ said Mackenzie, ‘you’re just the chaps we want this awful -season; and, now you’re going straight, each of you will be worth half a -dozen ordinary men.’” - - -The day was still warm, not much change from the 110° in the shade which -the sunset-hour had registered, but a gradual coolness commenced to -o’erspread the heated landscape. “The stars rush out, at one strike -comes the dark,” making an appearance of coolness, to which the abnormal -dryness of the air in mid-Australia lends a perceptible relief. -Confident of a welcome, and the hospitable reception of a -head-station—always superior in comfort to the more casual arrangements -of the out-stations—the five horsemen rode steadily forward in peace and -amity; Mr. Mackenzie, as knowing every foot of the run, taking the lead -with the two O’Haras, while Mr. Bruce and Little-River-Jack followed -quietly in the rear. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - -“‘I’D like to tell you, sir,’ said Carter, ‘how we first got acquainted, -me and Mr. Blount, to put him right with you, because I heard a whisper -that you thought he must be in with us, in the “cross” butchering line.’ - -“‘I don’t deny,’ I answered, ‘that I thought it very suspicious that a -man like him should be living with you fellows, and yet have no idea -that dishonest work was going on?’ - -“‘All right, Mr. Bruce, don’t spare us. It _was_ dishonest, there’s no -two ways about it, and we chaps ought to be ashamed of ourselves, as are -well able to get a living straight and square, and under fear of no man. -Now we’ve had a fright and been let off you’ll never hear another word -against us. But I wanted to have a word about Mr. Blount. If he had been -copped along with us, it would have been a cruel shame, a regular -murder, and him as innocent as the child unborn. His horse was knocked -up, or next door to it, when I came across him a few miles from the -“Lady Julia”; I’d a few cattle with me, and asked him to help me drive -them. He stayed at our place that night. The man I was selling them to -sent for them before daylight, and all he could hear was them being let -out of the yard.’ - -“‘He was a dividing mate after that, though?’ said I, knowing that such -mining agreements comprehend all knowledge in heaven and earth, and -under the sea. - -“Carter answered my unspoken thought when he said, ‘He bought Tumberumba -Dick’s share, him as went to Coolgardie, and if he knew mullock from -wash dirt, then, it’s as much as he did. As for cattle, he hardly knew a -cow from a steer. Then he lost his moke and went down the river to get -word of him.’ - -“‘Yes!’ I said. ‘I met him then; he came on me just as I was shooting a -small mob of wild horses. I had been watching for them for months. They -seldom came so far in; but I dropped the stallion first shot, a noted -grey, said to be thoroughbred; the mares and foals wouldn’t leave him, -so I got them all, one by one.’ - -“‘Mr. Blount was astonished, I suppose? Seems a pity, too, they were a -well-bred lot. I’ve had many a gallop after the same lot, thinkin’ to -yard ’em, but they always got away. Anyhow, they’re no blessed good, if -you do yard ’em; mostly sulk and always clear the first chance. His cob, -it seems, joined your horses, and was run in to the paddock. So you put -him up for the night and sent him home on his own horse. Came part of -the way with him, you and the ladies, and Black Paddy. Nigh hand to the -“Lady Julia” you spotted your “E. H. B.” bullock with a fresh brand on. -And he never said nothen’. Next day Black Paddy ran our tracks to the -claim and the stockyard, found where the last bullocks had been driven -to the Back Creek slaughter yards. That was as plain as A B C, and we -had to clear. Phelim waited on to get his horse back that he’d lent him, -and start after Pat and Lanky, who were well on their way to Omeo.’ - -“‘All quite correct,’ I said; ‘but why didn’t he act straightforwardly -and tell me like a man that he had been working in your claim?’ - -“‘Because he didn’t want to give us away, and if he said what he knew, -but _didn’t understand_, the police would have been up next day and -collared the lot of us before we had a chance to cut it.’ - -“‘But why was he so tender about your party?’ I said. ‘You had deceived -him, and he might naturally have felt angry at being let in for aiding -and abetting cattle stealers, and all the more anxious to see you -punished.’ - -“‘That’s all right, Mr. Bruce; but you see there was another reason why -he stood by us, though he didn’t wait an hour after he knew we were on -the cross; wouldn’t take his share of the gold neither, which he’d -worked as hard for as any of us.’ - -“‘What _was_ the other reason?’ - -“‘Well, sir,’ rather shamefacedly, ‘he thought I’d _saved his life_, as -it were.’ - -“‘Saved his life? How could that be?’ - -“‘It was this way, sir.’ As he spoke, he looked quite sad and confused. -‘You know that Razor Back ridge on the short track to Bunjil?’ - -“‘Yes! I was over it once, and a brute of a track it was. That was where -Paddy Farrell was killed.’ - -“‘The same; well, when we was coming along it from Bunjil to the claim, -that cob of his—a flat-country horse—got frightened, and had half a mind -to back over the edge. I was thinkin’ of somethin’ else; when I looked -back I saw Mr. Blount was confused-like, he didn’t know how to stop him. -I slipped off, and held the cob, while he did the same, and started old -Keewah along the track, with the reins tied to the stirrup-iron. My old -moke trotted on, and the cob after him, till they came to the trap-yard, -where we found them when we came up, half an hour after. There wasn’t -much in it. Any man who’d lived in rangey country couldn’t have helped -doin’ it; but he chose to believe I’d saved his life. So it was chiefly -that that made him not let on to you about where he’d lived. Nothing -might have come of it; but it was a close shave, and no mistake.’ - -“‘I’m very glad to hear the explanation, Carter. I don’t see how he -could have acted differently, as a man or gentleman. I shall write and -tell him so. And now, a word with you; which you can pass on to your -mates. Make no mistake, you’ve got a fresh start in life! You three -fellows are young. Anything there is against you, as far as I know, is -over and done with. These warrants are just waste paper. But be careful -for the future. If you stick to the Nundooroo station till the drought’s -over, you’re made men. I’ll let the Inspector-General of Police know how -you behaved.’ - -“‘All right, sir; we’re on. We won’t go back on you,’ was his reply. - -“‘You may expect to see me at Marondah, within the month, though -travelling through a desert, as this country is virtually now, is very -slow and unsatisfactory. I must pick up a riding camel, a “heirie,” such -as I’ve seen in the East, warranted to keep going for twenty-four hours -on end, without water or food. However, I suppose rain will come some -time or other.’” - - -Thus fully exonerated, it may be believed that Blount made the best use -of his time at Marondah, where he had the field all to himself with the -advantage of the most considerate of chaperons, in the person of Mrs. -Bruce, who had always been, as she told him, his staunch supporter, even -in the dark days, when her husband forbade his name to be mentioned, and -when from adverse circumstances no letters had arrived to clear his -character. - -“_I_ never doubted you for a moment,” murmured Imogen, “but it must be -confessed, it was hard work holding to my trust in you, when so many -rumours were flying through the country. I never could make out why you -joined such people at all, or what you were to gain by it. If you wished -to know what a miner’s life was like, there are plenty of gentlemen glad -enough to go into any venture of the sort, with the aid of a little -capital—men such as you have described at the ‘Comstock’ or at Zeehan.” - -“But how was I to find them?” - -“Just the same way in which you would have done in England, through -introductions to men of mark out here. They would have advised you for -your good. And there would have been no risk of your being compromised -by any action of theirs.” - -“No doubt it was indiscreet of me, but I wanted to see for myself, and -form my own opinion by personal experience of a society so different -from any I had known before.” - -“That is where you conceited Englishmen”—here she held up a warning -finger—“make a mistake, indeed tons of mistakes. In vain we tell you -that there is no special difference here between the classes of society, -or the laws which rule them, and those of your own beloved country, -which we are proud to resemble.” - -“But are they not different?” - -“Not radically, by any means. Any departure from English manners and -customs is chiefly superficial. Your squire, or lord of the manor, says -‘Mornin’, Jones! crops doin’ so-so, too dry for the roots,’ and so on. -‘Nice four year old of yours. Looks as if he’d grow into a hunter.’ But -there’s no _real_ equality, nor can there be. Jones doesn’t expect it.” - -“Mr. Bruce, I suppose, has much the same feeling for the farmers here, -and they meet on much the same terms. Except when the suspicion of -‘duffing’ comes in, eh? then—then—relations are strained, indeed, as -between the same classes, if poaching was discovered, and brought home -to the guilty ones.” - - * * * * * - -They had these, with many other, talks and disquisitions, such as are -interesting to lovers, and lovers only, in the long delicious evenings -and unquestioned idlesse which are the prerogatives of the halcyon days -which follow a declared engagement, and before the completed drama of -marriage. - -The soft, mild months of the southern spring were now heralding the less -romantic season of the Australian summer. The sun god was daily -strengthening his power, without as yet the fierce noonday glare or -burning heat. Chiefly precious to them were the moonlight walks by the -river side when the shadows of the great willows which fringed the river -bank fell over the hurrying tide, when star sheen or moonrays glinted -through the close foliage or sparkled diamond bright on the rippling -bars. There was a winding path a few feet from the bank, accurately -marked by the cattle and horses, which roved unchecked through the great -meadows. - -Here the lovers were at liberty to indulge in fullest confidences. He -told her that he had loved her from the very first moment that his eyes -fell upon her, when, not knowing that any other than Mrs. Bruce was in -the house he had been almost unconventional in the surprise of the -meeting and his instant admiration. “That moment sealed our destiny,” he -said, “or rather, would have left me a lifelong regret had I never set -eyes on you again. And what was your feeling, Imogen?” looking suddenly -into her eyes, which, lit up by a fairy moonray, seemed to his eager -gaze to glow with unearthly radiance. So, in old days did the fabled -Oread enthrall the heart of the doomed shepherd or woodsman, luring him -to follow into her enchanted bower, which he was fated never again to -discover, wasting life wandering through the forest aisles, wearing out -health, youth and passion, in the ever-fleeting, illusory pursuit. - -“I think,” she answered softly, as her eyes fell before his ardent gaze, -“that I must have been similarly affected, why, I cannot tell, but the -fact remains that if you had never returned—and we had not much time for -love-making, had we, between that day and your return to the ‘Lady -Julia’ claim, and the fascinating society of Mr. Little-River-Jack?—I -should have ‘fallen into a sadness, then into a fast, thence into a -weakness,’ and so on. As it was, I was very melancholy and low for a -while, and between that and influenza, very nearly ‘went out,’ as my -maid, Josephine Macintyre, phrased it. Then, when I was coming round, -and reaching the stage of ‘the common air, the sea, the skies, to “her” -are opening Paradise,’ and would have written to you, we heard that you -had become a millionaire or a ‘silver king’ in Tasmania. It was foolish, -I know, but I thought it might look as if I wanted to recall you because -of your wealth—a vulgar idea, but still one that works for good or evil -in this silly life of ours. But now, all will be forgiven, ‘if this -should meet the eye,’ &c., as the advertisements say. You will forgive -me, and I will forgive you, and there will never be any more doubts or -despair, will there?” - -That Mr. Blount made a short but impressive reply to this query may be -taken for granted. The river marge, the sighing, trailing willows, the -rippling murmuring stream, the friendly moon, all these were conditions -eminently favourable to “love’s young dream.” Nor did they fail in this -instance to ratify the solemn, irrevocable vow, often lightly, rashly, -falsely sworn, but in this instance repeated with all the passion of -ardent manhood, responded to with the heart’s best and truest affection, -the sacred, intensely glowing flame of the maiden’s love, imperishable, -immortal. - -“You told me, the last time we met,” she whispered, “that some day I -should know why you came here to lead an aimless, wandering life. I -always thought there was some mystery about it. Will you tell me now? It -is lovely and mild, there could not be a better time. How clearly you -can hear the ripple in the shallows. Was there a woman in it?” - -“Of course there was, but mind, it all happened seven years ago. So if -what I say may be used against me on my trial, I shall be dumb.” - -“I’ve copied out depositions now and then, for Edward,” replied the -girl, archly. “Having heard the evidence, do you wish to say anything? -comes next. So I’ll promise not to take advantage of your voluntary -confession, if you make a clean breast of it, once for all. I have no -fear of the dear, dead women, whoever they were.” - -“You need not,” said Blount, as he drew her more closely to him, “not if -Helen of Troy were of the company.” - -On their return to the verandah, where they found Mrs. Bruce still -occupied with the needlework, which took up (so she said), fortunately, -so much of her time, Imogen pleaded fatigue and retired, leaving the -field free to her sister and the guest, who thereupon commenced a long, -and apparently serious conversation. - -Mr. Blount spoke more unreservedly of his private affairs than he had -hitherto thought it expedient to do. Independently of his share in the -Great Comstock Company, for which he had already been offered a hundred -thousand pounds—he had a handsome allowance from his father—as also, -thinking it might be needed, a letter of credit upon the Imperial Bank -for five thousand pounds. - -“It will always be a puzzle to me and Imogen,” said Mrs. Bruce, “how, -with all that money at your disposal, you should ever have run the risks -you did in this gipsy business, with the people we found you with, or -would have done, if you had remained a few days longer with them. You -didn’t want to learn their language, like Borrow—what other reason -_could_ there be?” - -“My dear Mrs. Bruce,” he replied, “you have been so good, considerate, -and friendly to me, that I must make a clean breast of it. I have -already told Imogen all there is to tell of a by no means uncommon event -in a man’s life, when one of your adorable, yet fatal sex is mixed up -with it.” - -“I see, I understand, the ‘eternal feminine’; we have not many romances -of the kind in these quiet hills, but of course they are not wholly -unknown, even in our sequestered lives. You are going to tell me of your -tragedy.” - -“It was not far removed from the ordinary run of such adventures, though -there might easily have been a catastrophe. I was young, I said it was -seven years ago, since which I have industriously wasted life’s best -gifts, in trying to forget her. Beautiful, yes, as a dream maiden! a -recognised queen of society, flattered, worshipped, wherever her fairy -footsteps trod; but vain, ambitious and false as the Lorelei, or the -mermaiden, that lures the fated victim. More than one man had thrown -life, character, or fortune at her feet, unavailingly. I had heard this, -but with the reckless confidence of youth, I heeded not. I met her at -the quiet country house of a relative; men being scarce, she -condescended to play for so poor a stake as the heart of a younger son, -an undistinguished lover’s existence, and she won! - -“How could it be otherwise? She turned the full battery of her charms -upon the undefended fort. We rode together, we fished the trout stream, -more dangerous still. We read in the old library, morning after morning, -and here my not unmarked university career served me well, as I thought. -I had been reading aloud from a novel of the hour, when, looking up -suddenly I saw a light in her eyes, which gave me hope, more than hope. -I took her hand, I poured out protestations, entreaties, vows of eternal -love; whatever man has distilled from the inward fires of soul and -sense, under the alembic of love at white heat, I found words for and -poured into her not unwilling ear. - -“She was visibly agitated. Her cold nature, serenely lovely as she -always was, seemed to kindle into flame under the fire of my impetuous -avowal. I gained her other hand, I threw myself on my knees before her, -and drew her down to the level of my face. I clasped her yielding form, -and kissed her lips with soul-consuming ardour. To my surprise, she made -no resistance, her colour came and went, she might have been the veriest -country milkmaid, surprised into consent by her rustic lover’s -eagerness. ‘You are mine, say you are mine for ever!’ I whispered into -her shell-like ear as her loosened hair fell over her cheek. - -“‘Yours,’ she said in a low intense murmur, ‘now and for ever.’ Then -gently, disengaging herself from my arms, ‘This is a foolish business. I -confess to being rather unprepared, but I suppose we must consider it -binding?’ - -“‘Binding,’ said I, shocked at the alteration of her tone and manner. -‘To the end of the world, and afterwards, in life, in death, my heart is -yours unalterably—to wear in true love’s circlet or to break and cast -beneath your feet.’ - -“‘Poor Val!’ said she, smoothing my hair with her dainty jewelled -fingers, ‘yet women have played false before now to their promises, as -fondly made, and men’s hearts have not been broken. They have lived to -smile, to wed, to enjoy life much as usual—or old tales are untrue.’ - -“‘Do not jest,’ said I, ‘a man’s life—a woman’s heart, are treasures too -precious to win—too perilous to lose; say you are not in earnest?’ - -“‘Perhaps not,’ she said, lightly. ‘Yes! you may have your good-night -kiss,’ and we parted. You would not think it was for ever. - -“The house-party was not large at Kingswood, but it was as much -disturbed and excited when our engagement was given out, as if it had -been a much more exalted gathering. - -“My devotion had not been unmarked, but the betting had been against me. -I was too young, too undistinguished—what had I done? not even in the -army—in literature, beyond a few tentative minor successes, I was -unknown. How had I presumed to propose to—indeed to win this belle of -the last two seasons—the admitted star of the most aristocratic, -exclusive, socially distinguished set? I was fairly good-looking—so much -was admitted—my family was unimpeachable, old and honoured, but where is -the money to come from to uphold the dignity and pay the bills of a -queen of beauty and fashion such as Adeline Montresor? - -“She had not come down from her room next morning when we men adjourned -to the grounds for a smoke, and the usual after breakfast stroll. - -“I was in the stable examining a strain which had lamed my hunter a few -days since, and which had accounted for my presence in the library on -the eventful afternoon, when my attention was attracted by an -observation made by one man to another who held out a morning paper for -his friend to see. - -“‘I thought there was something “by ordinar,” as our Scotch gardener -says. - -“‘Death of Sir Reginald Lutterworth, all his money and the lovely place -left to his nephew, Valentine Blount, the younger son of Lord -Fontenaye.’ - -“‘By Jove!’ said his friend. ‘What a throw in! This accounts for the -unaccountable, to put it mildly. The fair Adeline sees something beyond -the personal merits of our enthusiastic young friend. - -“‘A house in town—a place in the country, etc., presented at Court, -Marlborough House in the future—what girl of the period could say no to -such a present—with a still more gorgeous perspective?’ - -“‘Certainly not Miss Montresor, nor any of her set. But what about -Colonel Delamere?’ - -“‘He’ll receive a neat, carefully worded note, which being interpreted, -needs only one word of translation, “farewell.” - -“‘Perhaps to soften the blow, as the phrase runs, something like “my -people so badly off, pressure brought to bear—feelings unchanged—bow to -Fate, etc.”’ - -“‘Wonder if she saw it?’ - -“‘My man says it’s in all the evening papers, but we were so hard at -work at bridge, that no one thought of looking at them. She couldn’t -have seen it, unless the maid took it up to her room when she went to -dress for dinner. Ha! didn’t think of that.’ - -“On inquiry, I found that my enslaver and her maid had left for London -by the early train. A note had been left for me, containing only a few -words. ‘Dearest, I feel I _must_ go home. See you at Oldacres. Au -revoir.’ - -“I felt disappointed. Still I had no rational ground for distrust. It -was most natural that a girl under such circumstances should wish to go -home to her mother, and relieve her heart, when such an important step -had been decided upon. I sent a telegram in answer, and arranged to -leave for London, having to make certain arrangements in accordance with -what would doubtless be my altered position. - -“We wrote to one another daily. The letters, though not particularly -ardent on her side, were affectionate and apparently sincere. A few days -passed in making necessary financial arrangements, in receiving -congratulations, freely tendered by friends and acquaintances. - -“By my own family, I was regarded as a Spanish galleon, laden with -treasure, which had come to redeem the faded glories of the estate, and -to aid the wearer of a title, unsupported by an adequate income. Life -was roseate, radiant with dazzling splendour. - -“What cared I for the wealth? Was I not the proud possessor of the heart -of the loveliest girl in England? I was invited to her father’s place in -the Midlands, for the forthcoming hunting season. - -“The kindest, semi-maternal letter informed me that ‘darling Adeline’ -had overtaxed her nervous system, and not been quite herself for the -last few days. I could understand _why_. However, she was looking her -best once more, and all impatience to greet me at Oldacres, next week, -when some of their more intimate neighbours would be able to pay their -respects. I made rather a wry face at the extra week’s delay, thus -imposed upon me, but suppressed any impatience as much as was possible, -while thinking of the rapturous delight awaiting me, at the end of the -probation. On the morning of the day on which I was to leave London, I -received another of the extra-legal, important-looking documents, with -which I had been so familiar lately. I was on the point of throwing it -into the drawer of my writing table to await my return when I should be -able to settle all formal matters in one morning’s work. Something, -however, urged me to open the bothering thing, and have done with it, so -as not to have it hanging over me when I was impatient of business of -any sort or kind. - -“I read over the first page twice before I fully grasped its purport. - - -“‘MY DEAR SIR,—We regret deeply the unpleasant nature of the -communication which we are reluctantly compelled to make. We cannot -sufficiently express our surprise at the apparent carelessness of -Messrs. Steadman and Delve, who have been your uncle’s trusted lawyers -and agents for fifty years, and in point of fact acted in that capacity -for your grandfather, the late Lord Fontenaye, and we apologise, with -sincere regrets, for not having verified with greater care the precise -nature of Sir Reginald’s last will and testament. - -“‘It now appears that the testator made _another will_ a year after the -one by which you were to benefit so largely. That other will has been -found in a secret drawer, and is now in the possession of Messrs. -Steadman and Delve. By it _all former wills_ are revoked, and there is a -total omission of your name as a beneficiary. With the exception of -comparatively trifling annuities and legacies, the whole of the -testator’s very large estates, together with the sum of £300,000 -invested in the three per cents, is willed to your elder brother, the -present Lord Fontenaye.’ - - -“This was a thunderclap; indeed, apart from the natural distaste felt by -most men at having been suddenly displaced from a position of wealth and -importance, my chief regret arose from the feeling of disappointment -which my change from wealth to moderate competence would cause to my -beloved Adeline. - -“No doubt of her loyalty and good faith troubled me. A legacy from my -mother provided a sufficient, if not unusual income, as well as a fair -estate, upon which we could live in something more than moderate -comfort. Surely no girl would hesitate to declare her willingness to -share the fortunes of a man to whom she had plighted her troth, though -dissociated from the splendour which surrounded the former position. I -lost no time in telegraphing to her father the change in our -circumstances, at the same time writing a full explanation and -requesting a day’s delay before visiting Oldacres, on account of -necessary arrangements. But little time was lost in telegraphing an -answer to my communication. ‘Much shocked by your news. Please to await -letter. Miss Montresor much overcome.’ - -“The first news had been disastrous; the second intimation was -unpleasant in tone and suggestion. I could not but regard it as showing -a disposition to retreat from the engagement. But was this possible—even -probable? Could I think my adored one guilty of withdrawing from her -solemnly pledged troth-plight, _entirely_ on account of the change in my -fortunes from those of a rich man with an historic rent-roll and estates -hardly exceeded by those of any English proprietor? Was it then the -rents and the three per cents which this angel-seeming creature accepted -without reference to the man? It would appear so. My youth and -inexperience, how inferior in worldly wisdom had they shown me to be to -this calculating worldling in the garb of an angel of light. - -“If so, of course it was not fully decided so far. Let the end try the -man. I trusted that I should be able to stand up to my fight, heavy and -crushing as might be the blow Fate had dealt me. But all light and -colour, all sympathy with and savour of pleasure, so-called, died out of -my life. My premonition was but too accurate. Following the statement in -my legal adviser’s letter, every paper in England had a more or less -sensational paragraph to the effect that the announcement of the late -Sir Reginald Lutterworth’s testamentary disposition was premature and -incorrect. The bulk of that gentleman’s property, his great estates, and -large deposits in the funds, goes to Lord Fontenaye, the head of the -house. - -“Soon after this, through some channels of intelligence, came a harmless -looking paragraph in the personal column of the _Court Circular_:—‘We -are authorised to contradict the report of the engagement of Miss -Adeline Montresor to the Honourable Valentine Blount. The arrangement, -if any, was terminated by mutual consent.’ A note of studied politeness -from her mother left no doubt on my mind that her daughter’s engagement -to me, too hastily entered into in the opinion of Mr. Montresor and -herself, must now be regarded as finally terminated. ‘Mr. Blount would -understand that, as no good purpose would be served by an interchange of -letters or an interview, he would consult the feelings of the family by -refraining from requiring either.’ - -“Such, and so worded in effect, was my _congé_. It was a hard fall. In -more than one instance within my knowledge a fatal one. - -“Last week, _fortunatus nimium_, I had stood on the very apex of human -happiness. Rich—more than rich, the possessor of historic estates, with -a commensurate rent-roll, above all ecstatically happy as the _fiancé_ -of the loveliest girl in England—high-born, highly endowed, the envy of -my compeers, the admired of the crowd—a few short days saw me bereft of -all but a moderate fortune, reduced in position, socially disrated, -discarded by the woman of my passionate adoration. - -“What remained, but as was suggested to the victim of an earlier inrush -of disasters? To curse God, and die? The teaching of my youth, combined -with a substratum of philosophic disdain of the ills of life, forbade -the ignominious surrender. I took counsel with my calmer self, with my -best friends, made no sign, arranged for regular remittances, and took -my passage for South America. - -“How I lived among the wild people and wilder adventurers, whom debt and -dishonour, or Bohemian love of freedom had driven from the headquarters -of art, civilisation and luxury, may be told some day; sufficient to say -that during the five years I lived abroad much of my unhappiness and -despair of life wore off by the slow but sure attrition of new -occupations amongst strange companions. From time to time I sent home -articles to scientific societies which gave me a certain vogue in -literary circles. At length, and not until the end of the sixth year of -wandering had been reached, a desire arose to see England and my people -once more. Six months after my departure, Adeline had married an elderly -peer, when, as Lady Wandsborough, she gained the position and -consideration which I had been unable to offer her. Two years afterwards -another excitement was caused among the smart set by her elopement with -Colonel Delamere, ‘a distinguished military man,’ said the _Court -Circular_, concerning whom there had been a growing scandal. Socially -condemned, dropped and disowned, what was to be the end of the brilliant -woman, whose entertainments, dresses, jewels, and friendships, made up -so large a part of English and Continental chit-chat? - -“Lord Wandsborough without loss of time obtained a divorce. There was no -appearance of the co-respondent. Since then, there had been no authentic -information about the arrant pair—neither, though I searched the fashion -journals with unusual industry, did I come across the marriage of -Colonel Delamere to the heroine of so many historiettes in high life. It -was not that I had any strong personal interest in her career, fallen as -she was now from her high estate finally and irrevocably. - -“But I couldn’t attain to complete detachment from all human sympathy -for the fallen idol of my youthful dreams, though perhaps my strongest -sentiment connected with her was one of heartfelt gratitude for the -brusque manner in which she had discarded me, and so saved me from the -keenest—the most exquisitely cruel tortures to which the civilised man -can be subjected. - -“Of all people in the world she was the last whom I expected, or indeed -desired, to see again; yet we were doomed to meet once more. I told you -that I came from Hobart, the day after my arrest (save the mark!), in a -vessel from Callao, of which the crew and passengers were strangely -mixed, various in character as in colour and nationality; South -Americans, Mexicans, Americans of the States, both Northerners and -Southerners. Among them I noted, although I was far from troubling -myself about their histories, a tall, handsome man, who bore on him the -impress of British military service. It was Colonel Delamere! I could -not be mistaken. I had formed a slight acquaintance with him in earlier -days; had watched him at cards, with some of the least villanous-looking -of the foreigners, to whose excitable manner and reckless language his -own offered so marked a contrast. I did not intend to make myself known -to him, but accident was stronger than inclination. Seeing a lady -struggling up the companion (the weather was still rough), I moved -forward and helped her to a seat. She turned to thank me, and after an -earnest surprised glance at my face—‘But, no! it can’t be! Am I so -changed?’ she said reproachfully, ‘that you don’t know Adeline -Montresor?’ She _was_ changed, oh! how sadly, and I had _not_ known her. -The second time, of course, I recognised the object of my youthful -adoration, the woman by whose heartless conduct I had been so rudely -disillusioned. She glanced at the Colonel, who, engrossed in the game, -had not observed her coming on deck, and motioned me to take a seat -beside her, saying, ‘How _you_ have changed since we last met! I treated -you shamefully—heartlessly, I confess, but it was all for your good, as -people say to children. You would never have been the man you are if -Fate and I had not sent you out into the world with a broken heart. Now -tell me all about yourself?’ she continued, with a glance which recalled -the spell of former witchery, harmless however, _now_, as summer -lightning. ‘You don’t wish to cut me, I hope?’ - -“‘Far from it,’ I replied, ‘you will always find me a friend. Is there -any way in which I can serve you? you have only to say. What is your -address?’ She looked over at the Colonel and his companions with a -melancholy air, and replied in a low voice, ‘We are travelling as -“Captain and Mrs. Winchester.” Poor fellow, he cannot marry me, though -he would do so to-morrow, if he were free from his wife, as I am from my -husband. But she will not go for a divorce, just to punish us; isn’t it -spiteful? You can see—’ here she touched her dress which was strictly -economical—‘that it is low water with us. I have tried the stage, and we -have been doing light comedy in Callao, and the coast towns. You have -seen me in the amateur business?’ - -“‘Yes,’ I said, ‘how I admired you!’ - -“‘I know that,’ and she smiled with a strangely mingled suggestion of -amusement and sadness; ‘you were a first-class lover in the proposal -scene, though a little too much in earnest. I really _was_ touched, and -if—if indeed—everything had been different, my heart, my previous -experiences, my insane love of society triumphs, dress, diamonds, etc. -These I thought I had secured, and so accepted your honest adoration. -But even then I was in love with poor Jack—never loved any one else in -fact. I have been his ruin, and he mine. I see he has finished his game, -and is coming over. You may as well know each other.’ The Colonel looked -at me fixedly, much wondering at our apparent friendly attitude, then -bowed politely and formally. ‘No, Jack, you don’t know him, though -you’ve seen him before. He’s an old friend of mine, though, to whom I -did a good turn, the best any one ever did him, when I broke our -engagement short off, after hearing he’d lost his money. Now you know.’ - -“‘You’re a queer woman,’ said he, putting out his hand in frank and -manly fashion, which I shook warmly. ‘I always said you treated him -brutally. It didn’t break his heart, though it might have suffered at -the time. We’re all fools; I nearly shot myself when I was just of age -over Clara Westbrook.’ - -“‘Yes, I know,’ assented ‘Mrs. Winchester,’ good-humouredly; ‘now she’s -eighteen stone and can hardly get into her carriage.’ - -“‘She was dashed handsome then,’ pleaded the Colonel; ‘but hang the -past, it’s the future we’ve got to look at—not a gay prospect, either. -Some people make money here, I suppose; we were nearly getting off the -boat at Hobart and trying our luck at that new silver mine, the -Cornstalk, or something like that. Do you know anything about it?’ - -“‘I’m a part proprietor, and so on,’ said I, trying vainly to divest my -manner of any trace of importance, cruel as was the contrast between my -position and that of this forlorn pair. ‘It was a chance investment when -I came out here.’ - -“‘The devil! Tregonwell, Blount, Herbert and Clarke. Forgotten your -name, you know. Why, they say you’re all worth £100,000 each?’ - -“‘At least!’ I said; ‘quite a fluke, though. My partner, Tregonwell, who -_is_ a good man of business, wanted to throw it up. I held on out of -pure obstinacy, and it turned up a “bonanza.”’ - -“‘Your luck was in, and ours is dead out,’ said ‘Mrs. Winchester,’ -‘there’s no denying that, but ours may turn again some day. Where are we -going next, Jack?’ - -“‘Checked through to Coolgardie, West Australia,’ said the Colonel. -‘Know some fellows. Believe there are immensely rich gold mines there. -Saw some quartz specimens in a window in London, as much gold as -quartz.’ - -“‘Quite true. There have been wonderful yields there,’ said I; ‘it’s an -awful hot place, very primitive and rough. Still, the women—there _are_ -ladies, too—manage to live and keep up their spirits.’ - -“‘What do you say, Addie, hadn’t you better stay behind for a while, at -any rate?’ - -“‘All places are alike to me now,’ said she wearily; ‘but where you go I -go. We’ll see it out together, Jack.’ - -“‘We’re to be in Melbourne to-night, the steward told me,’ said the -Colonel; ‘perhaps Mr. Blount will kindly recommend an hotel?’ - -“‘I know a good one,’ said I, ‘handy to your boat. I’ll see you on board -to-morrow. The _Marloo_ leaves in the afternoon. I can give you letters -to some people on “the field” as they call it.’ - -“We went to ‘Scott’s,’ where I arranged certain things with the -management. So that when the Colonel paid his bill next day, and we left -together in a cab for the _Marloo_, he told his wife that the charges -were most reasonable. She looked at me with a meaning glance and wrung -my hand as the Colonel hurried off with the luggage. ‘You’re a good -fellow,’ she said, ‘though it’s late in the day to find it out. You’ve -had your revenge, haven’t you? Are you going to get married?’ - -“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘next week.’ - -“‘I wish you joy, with all my heart, what there is of it, that is. Is -she beautiful, innocent, devoted to you?’ - -“‘All that,’ said I, ‘and more.’ - -“‘Then tell her my story, and when for vanity, pleasure, or the tinsel -trappings of society she is tempted to stray from the simple faith of -her youth (I had it once, strange to say), let her think of _me_ as I am -now, poverty-stricken, degraded, and, except for poor Jack, whom I have -dragged down to ruin with me, without a friend in the world.’ - -“‘While I live,’ said I, ‘you must not say that.’ - -“‘I know—I know,’ and the tears fell from her eyes, changed as she was, -from all that she had been in her day of pride. ‘But we can take nothing -from you, of all men. God bless you!’ - -“Here came the Colonel. ‘Come along, Addie, we shall be left behind. -Ta-ta, Blount, you’re a dashed good fellow, too good altogether, if you -ask me. We’ll let you know how we get on.’ - - * * * * * - -“As the coasting steamer churned the far from limpid waters of the -Yarra, I waved my hand once and turned my head. They went their way. She -and her companion to a rude life and a cheerless future, I to love and -unclouded happiness, with fortune and social fame thrown in as -makeweights. So there you have the whole of it. Last dying speech and -confession of a sometime bachelor, but henceforth able to proudly -describe himself ‘as a mawwied man,’ like the swell in the witness-box, -‘faw-mally in the awmy!’” - -Edward Bruce came back from Queensland, and for fear of accidents the -wedding was solemnised quietly, but with all due form and observance, -between Valentine FitzEustace Blount, bachelor, and Imogen Carrisforth, -spinster, of Marondah, in the parish of Tallawatta, district of Upper -Sturt, colony of Victoria, Australia. The day was one of those -transcendant glories of a summer land, which, as combining warmth with -the fresh dry air of the Great South Land, are absolutely peerless. The -lightly-wooded downs, verdant as in spring in this exceptional year, -were pleasing to the eye as they stretched away mile after mile to the -base of the mountain range. The exotic trees, oaks and elms, with a few -beeches, walnuts, and an ash-tree, hard by the back entrance were in -fullest leaf, most brilliant greenery. The great willows hung their -tresses over the river bank, swaying over the murmuring stream, while -they almost covered the channel with their trailing wreaths. - -The glory of the wattle gold had departed; the graceful tender -fern-frond appearing chaplets were no longer intertwined with the lavish -spring gold which, following the windings of every streamlet and ravine, -seems to penetrate the dim grey woodlands with golden-threaded devices. -Herald and earliest note in tone and tendril of that manifold, divinest -harmony, the Voice of Spring. A souvenir of the ocean in the form of a -gladsome, whispering breeze came through the woodland at noon, tempering -the sun’s potent influence, until all comments and criticisms united in -one sincerest utterance, an absolutely perfect day, fitting, indeed, as -the youngest bridesmaid asserted, for such an ideal marriage. - - * * * * * - -Nothing went wrong with train or coach this time. Fate had done her -worst, and was minded to hold off from these persistent seekers after -happiness. Edward Bruce had arrived from Queensland, sunbrowned, rather -harder in condition than when he left home, but hale, strong, in good -spirits, and even jubilant, having heard by wire of a six-inch rainfall -since his departure. - -Little-River-Jack and the O’Hara brothers had crowned themselves with -glory on Crichel Downs since they had been employed there. Energetic, -athletic, and miraculously learned in every department of bush lore, -they had thrown themselves into the work of the drought-stricken -district with an amount of enthusiasm that rejoiced the manager’s heart, -moving him to declare that they were worth their weight in gold, and had -saved the lives of sheep and cattle to the value of their wages six -times over. He was going to give Little-River-Jack the post of overseer -at a back outstation, and felt certain that no one would get hold of -calf, cow, or bullock with the Crichel Downs brand as long as he was in -charge. Phelim and Pat O’Hara were kept on the home station, and for -driving a weak flock of sheep at night, or “moonlighting” the outlying -scrub cattle, no one in all Queensland, except Jim Bradfield, was fit to -“hold a candle” to them. - -It was for various reasons, the bride’s recent illness and other -considerations, that what is known as “a quiet wedding” took place, yet -were there certain additions to the family circle. - -Pastoral neighbours, such as the MacRimmons, the Grants, the MacAulays, -the Chesters, the Waterdales, could not decently be left out. Besides -the seniors, they included large families of young men and maidens born -and reared among the forests and meadows of the Upper Sturt. The -climatic conditions of this Highland region proved its adaptability for -the development of the Anglo-Saxon and the Anglo-Celt, for finer -specimens of the race than these young people who rode and drove so -joyously to this popular function would have been difficult, if not -impossible, to find. The men, tall, stalwart, adepts in every manly -exercise; the girls, fresh-coloured, high-spirited, full of the joyous -abandon of early youth, as yet unworn by care and with the instinctive -confidence of all healthy minded young people in the continuance of the -_joie de vivre_, of which they had inherited so large a share. - -It was noticed by some of these whose eyes were sharp and general -intelligence by no means limited, that at the breakfast there was a new -damsel who assisted the waiting maid, Josephine Macintyre (chiefly known -as Joe Mac), a smart soubrette of prepossessing appearance. - -With her the bride and bridegroom shook hands warmly before they -departed “for good.” Well and becomingly dressed, she was an object of -more than ordinary interest to some of the youthful squirearchy. - -“Why, it’s Sheila Maguire, from Bunjil!” said one youngster to his -comrade. “Thought I’d seen her before, somewhere. Doesn’t she look -stunning?” - -“My word,” was the reply. “They say she’s been left a lot of money by -old Barney, her uncle.” - -“She’s a fine, straight, jolly girl, with no nonsense about her,” -declared the first speaker, “a man might do worse than make up to her, -if he had to live in the back blocks.” - -“Why don’t you try the experiment?” - -“Thanks, awfully! Hope I shall do as well—but I’m not ‘on the marry’ -just yet. Want to see another Melbourne Cup or so first.” - -There was no “marriage bell,” yet all went well without that obsolete -summons. Every one turned up at the right time, not even the best man -was absent. He came the evening before—a cool, unpretending person, very -correctly dressed, and with “soldier” written all over him—in spite of -the vain disguise of mufti. He was presented as Colonel Pelham Villiers, -D.S.O., Royal Engineers, just down from Northern India. That he had -“assisted” at such functions before was evident by the air of authority -with which he put the bridegroom through his facings, and even ordered -the bridesmaids about—“like a lot of chorus girls”—as Susie Allerton -observed. - -She had (she said) “a great mind to refuse to obey,” but after once -meeting the look in a pair of stern grey eyes—hers were hazel—she -capitulated. He took her in to breakfast, it was noticed, where they -seemed excellent friends. - -Punctually at three p.m. the drag came round with Edward Bruce on the -box—behind such a team as only one station on the Upper Sturt could turn -out. The leaders—own brothers—cheap at a hundred apiece, were a “dream,” -as an enthusiastic girl observed, while the solid pair of dark bays in -the wheel were scarcely behind them in value. - -Out came the bride in travelling suit of grey, on the arm of “the -happiest man in Australia,” as he had that day professed himself to be. -Black Paddy noiselessly relinquished the rein of the nearside leader, a -fine tempered, but impatient animal, and like one horse, the -well-broken, high-mettled team moved off. The road was level, and smooth -for the first half mile, then came a long up grade pretty much against -collar, the team, at a touch of the rein, broke into a hand gallop, -which they kept up easily until the crown of the hill was reached. There -on the long down-grade—high above the river bank on one side, and -scooped out of the mountain side on the other, the powerful leg-brake -was applied, and the laden vehicle rolled steadily, and well controlled, -until the level track of the river meadow was reached. There was a full -quarter of an hour to spare when the railway station was neared, and -with the luggage checked through to Menzies Hotel, Melbourne, and an -engaged carriage for Imogen and himself, Mr. Blount decided that the -first stage of matrimonial happiness was reached. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - -HOBART, where it was decided to spend the honeymoon, from their joint -experience of its unequalled summer climate, and picturesque beauty, was -reached on the following day. A charming villa “by the sad sea waves” -had been secured for them, by a friend, the all-potential personage who -“ran,” so to speak, the social, sporting, and residential affairs of the -city, and whose dictum, at once suave and authoritative, no Tasmanian, -whether foreign visitor or native born, was found bold enough to -withstand. The bridegroom remembered driving there in a tandem cart, -drawn by a refractory pair, which he had reduced to subjection, doing -the twelve miles out, at a creditable pace, though not quite in time for -dinner. But the view, the isolation and the forest paths of this ideal -private paradise had imprinted themselves indelibly on his memory. - -As it happened, the person in charge of the cottage was absent, but -refreshment was sent in by the housekeeper, which they were in a mood -thoroughly to enjoy, looking forward to the many divine repasts which -they would share in this enchanting retreat. - -From the open window of the morning room, looking eastward, they gazed -over the south arm of the Derwent; a broad estuary having the cloud -effects and much of the spacious grandeur of the ocean. The headland, on -which the bungalow stood, commanded a wide and varied view, in which sea -and crag, land and water were romantically mingled. Scrambling down the -cliff by a precipitous path to the beach, they found to their great -delight that a raspberry plantation had been formed on the -cliff-sheltered slope, much of which was in full bearing. The modified -English climate of Tasmania is eminently favourable to the production of -the smaller fruits, such as the currant, strawberry, gooseberry, -raspberry and blackberry—this last growing in wild profusion in hedges -and over fences. - -“Oh! how delightful,” cried Imogen, as, seated on a large stone she -applied herself to the consumption of an enticing raspberry feast spread -upon a leaf platter, woven deftly by the hands of her husband. “Look at -the calm water—the fishing boats, the gulls, the small waves breaking on -the beach! Was there ever such an ideal honeymoon lodge? And these -lovely raspberries. We can get cream at the house. And what a leaf -platter! Where did you learn to make one, sir? you must have had -practice.” - -“At Nuku-heva! I was stranded there for six months once. The girls -taught me.” - -“Girls, indeed! That sounds very general and comprehensive. No savage -maiden in particular. Quite sure, now? No photograph?” - -“If there was, I’ve forgotten all about her. I don’t keep photographs. -There’s only one damsel that is imperishably engraved upon heart and -soul—memory, aye, this mortal frame—by a totally new process. It has the -effect of destroying all former negatives—the best specimens of -photography are put to shame, and obliterated. - -“And that is called—?” - -“The last love of the mature man—the answering fondness of _the_ -woman—the best love—the true love—the only love which survives the -burden of care, the agony of grief, the chances and changes of life. The -steady flame which burns even brighter in the dark depths of despair.” - -“Oh! I daresay—fascinating creatures, I suppose—were they not?” - -“I have forgotten all about them. There is one fascination for me, -henceforth, and one only. It will last me until my life ends or hers. I -pray that mine may be the first summons.” - -“Men were deceivers, ever,” hummed Imogen. “But I must make the best of -it, now I have got you. The Fates were against us at first, were they -not? What a strange thing is a girl’s heart! How short a time it takes -to cast itself at a man’s feet. How long—long—endless, wretched, -unendurable are the days of doubt, grief, anguish unutterable, if he -prove faithless, or the girl has over-rated his attachment. It nearly -killed me, when I thought you had gone away without caring.” - -“And suppose I _had_ never returned? I began to believe you had decided -not to answer my letters. That Edward had not relented. That _you_ did -not care—transient interest, and so on. It is so with many women.” - -“Transient interest!” cried Imogen, jumping up and scattering the -raspberries in her excitement. “Why, there was not one single hour from -the time you left Marondah till I saw you again, that my heart was not -full of thoughts of you. Why should I not think of you? You told me you -loved me—though it was so short a time since we had met, and my every -sense cried out that your love was returned—redoubled in fervour and -volume.” - -“How little we know of women and their deeper feelings,” mused Blount. -“How often you hear of a pair of lovers, that he or she has ‘changed -their mind.’ The ordinary platitudes are rehearsed to friends and -acquaintances. When they separate—perhaps for ever—the outside world -murmurs cynically, ‘better before marriage than after,’ and the incident -is closed.” - -“Closed, yes,” answered Imogen, “because one heart is bleeding to -death.” - -While rambling through the old house, which was handsomely furnished, -though not in modern fashion, they came upon a morning room, which had -evidently been regarded as a fitting apartment for treasures of art and -literature, etchings, etc. - -In it was a bookcase, containing old and choice editions. The dates, -those of the last century, told a tale of the family fortunes, -presumably at a higher level of position than in these later days. A -“dower chest” of oak was rubbed over, and the inscription deciphered; a -few rare etchings were noted and appreciated. Through these the lovers -went carefully hand in hand, Blount, who was a connoisseur of -experience, pointing out to Imogen any special value, or acknowledged -excellence; when, suddenly letting go her hand, he rushed over to a dim -corner of the room, where he stopped in front of an oil painting, -evidently of greater age and value than the other pictures. - -“Yes,” he said, first carefully removing the dust from the left hand -corner of the canvas, under which, though faint and indistinct, the name -of a once famous artist, with a date, could be distinguished. - -“I thought so, it is a Romney. He was famed for his portraits. But what -a marvellous coincidence! Perfectly miraculous! I was told that in -Tasmania I should fall across curious survivals, as at one time the -emigration of retired military and naval officers was officially -stimulated by the English Government. The promise of cheap land and -labour (that of assigned servants, as they were called) in a British -colony with a mild climate and fertile soil, attracted to a -quasi-idyllic life those heads of families, whose moderate fortunes -forbade enterprise in Britain. Special districts, such as Westbury and -New Norfolk, were indicated as peculiarly adapted for fruit and dairy -farms.” - -“I remember quite well,” said Imogen, “when I was here at school in -Hobart, that many of the girls belonged to families such as you mention. -Such nice people, with grand old names, but so very, very poor. The -parents were not the sort to get on in a new country, though the sons, -as they grew up, mostly altered that state of affairs. But they did not -remain in Tasmania. No! they went to Queensland, New Zealand, or -Victoria till they made money. Then they generally returned to marry an -old sweetheart and settle down for life near Launceston or Hobart. They -were very patriotic, and awfully fond of their dear little island. But -what is all this coincidence? You seem quite excited about it.” - -“Will you have the goodness to look at this picture, Mrs. Blount?” - -“I am looking,” said she. “It must be a very life-like portrait of -somebody. And how beautifully painted! Quite a gem, evidently. The more -you look at it the more life-like it appears. What lovely blue eyes! A -girl in the glory of her youthful graces; I mustn’t add airs, I suppose, -for fear of being thought cynical. But the expression must have been -caught with amazing fidelity. Stamped, as it were, for ever. I suppose -it is very valuable?” - -“If it is the portrait which I have reason to believe it is its value is -great. The original was found in an old manor house belonging to the De -Cliffords. The house—once a king’s—though not untenanted, was let to -people unacquainted with art, and had been so neglected as to be almost -in ruins. The owner of the estate, an eccentric recluse, was a very old -man. He refused to have any of the furniture removed, or the paintings -taken down from the walls. At his death, people were permitted to view -the place, which was afterwards sold. The heir-at-law turned everything -he could into money, and emigrated to Tasmania.” - -“Quite the proper thing to do. We did something of the same sort, -whereof the aforesaid Imogen (I was so described in my settlement) met -with one Blount, and marrying him, became the happiest girl in Australia -or out of it. Didn’t she?” - -Blount responded appropriately; it would seem convincingly, for the -dialogue was resumed as they again went out. She desired to know why, -and wherefore, this particular portrait was so very precious. Other -young women, doubtless, in that long dead time, had had their portraits -painted. - -“Because this is the _very_ picture, I am almost certain, which inspired -Robert Montgomery with those lovely lines of his: ‘To the Portrait of an -Unknown Lady.’ Have you never read them?” - -“No! I have heard some one speak of them, though.” - -“Well, the picture disappeared before the sale. The family would never -explain. There was evidently some mystery, painful or otherwise, -connected with it. Montgomery’s lines had made it famous. And it was a -disappointment to intending buyers, many of whom came long distances to -bid for it.” - -“Rather a long story, but wildly interesting. To think that we should -have come across it on our wedding trip, and _here_ of all places. Well, -as a punishment for your taking so much interest in an unknown lady you -shall repeat the lines. I daresay you know them by heart.” - -“I think I do. At any rate I know the leading ones. If there are more we -can read them together afterwards. - - “‘Image of one who lived of yore, - Hail to that lovely mien! - Once quick and conscious, now no more - On land or ocean seen; - Were all life’s breathing forms to pass - Before me in Agrippa’s glass, - Many as fair as thou might be, - But oh! not one, not one _like thee_!’” - -Here the girl’s head sank on her lover’s shoulder, and as her slender -form reclined with the unconscious abandon of a child against his -breast, while his arm wound closely and yet more closely around her -yielding waist, “Oh! go on, go on, my darling! let me hear it all,” she -murmured: - - “‘Thou art no child of fancy—thou - The very look dost wear - That gave enchantment to a brow, - Wreathed with luxuriant hair— - Lips of the morn, embalmed in dew, - And eyes of evening’s starry blue, - Of all that e’er enjoyed the sun, - Thou art the image of but _one_! - - “‘And who was she in virgin prime - And May of womanhood, - Whose roses here, unplucked by time, - In shadowy tints have stood? - While many a winter’s withering blast - Hath o’er the dark cold chamber passed, - In which her once resplendent form - Slumbered to dust beneath the storm. - - “‘Of gentle blood, upon her birth - Consenting planets smiled, - And she had seen those days of mirth - Which frolic round the child: - To bridal bloom her youth had sprung, - Behold her beautiful and young; - Lives there a record which hath told - That she was wedded, widowed, old? - - “‘How long the date, ’twere vain to guess, - The pencil’s cunning art - Can but one single glance express, - One motion of the heart, - A smile, a blush, a transient grace - Of air and attitude and face, - One passion’s changing colour mix, - One moment’s flight, for ages fix. - - “‘Where dwelt she? ask yon aged oak - Whose boughs embower the lawn, - Whether the bird’s wild minstrelsy - Awoke her here at dawn? - Whether beneath its youthful shade - At noon, in infancy, she played? - If from the oak no answer come - Of her, all oracles are dumb!’ - -“There are more verses; I will show you the poem so that you may enjoy -the spirit of it. It was a favourite of mine, since boyhood. And now I -see the crests of the waves towards the southern skyline, rearing -higher. The sea breeze is often chill. Suppose we scramble up the path -and go inside?” - -“What a lovely view! and what delicious verses,” cried the girl. “Shall -we always be as happy as we are now? I feel as if I did not deserve it.” - -“And I am lost in wonder and admiration at the supernatural state of -bliss in which _I_ find myself,” answered Blount. “I ought to throw -something of value into the deep, to avert the anger of Nemesis. Here -goes,” and before Imogen could prevent him, he had unfastened a bangle -which he wore on his wrist, and hurled it far into the advancing tide. -“Let us hope that no fish will swallow it, and return it, through the -agency of the cookmaid.” - -“Now, I call that wasteful and superstitious,” quoth Imogen, pretending -to be angry. “You will need all the silver in the South Pacific -Comstock, if you throw about jewellery in that reckless fashion. And who -gave you that bangle, may I ask? You never showed it to me.” - -“I won it in a bet, long ago. The agreement was that whoever won was to -wear the bangle till he or she was married. After that, they might -dispose of it as they thought fit. I forgot all about it till to-day. So -this seemed an auspicious hour, and I sacrificed it to the malign -deities.” - -“And this is man’s fidelity!” quoted Imogen. “For of course, it was a -woman. Confess! Didn’t your heart give a little throb, as you pitched -away the poor thing’s gift?” - -“Hm! the poor thing, as you call her, is happily married ‘to a -first-class Earl, that keeps his carriage.’ I daresay she’s forgotten my -name, as I nearly did that of the possessor of the bangle.” - - * * * * * - -The allotted term of happiness passed at the Hermitage, for such had -been the name given to it by the original owner, who lived there for the -last remaining years of a long life, too quickly came to an end. For -happiness, it surely was, of the too rare, exquisitely attempered -quality, undisturbed by regrets for the past, or forebodings for the -future. Such wounds and bruises of the heart, as he had encountered, -though painful, even in a sense agonising, at the time, were of a nature -to be cured by the subtle medicaments of the old established family -physician, Time. They were not “his fault,” so to speak. Such sorrows -and smarts are not of the nature of incurable complaints. The agony -abates. The healthful appetite in youth for variety, for change of -scene, the solace of bodily exercise, and the competition with new -intelligences, extinguish morbid imaginings: thus leaving free the -immortal Genius of Youth to range amid the unexplored kingdoms of -Romance, where in defiance of giants and goblins, he is yet fated to -discover and carry off the fairy princess. - -“And I did discover her, darling, didn’t I?” said he, fondly pressing -her hand which lay so lovingly surrendered to his own, as after a long -stroll through the fern-shadowed glades of the still untouched primeval -forest, they came in sight of the Hermitage, and halted to watch the -breakers rolling on the beach below the verandah, where during their -first delirium they had so often watched the moon rise over a summer -sea. - -“All very well, sir,” replied Imogen, with the bright smile which -irradiated her countenance like that of a joyous child, “but the -‘carrying off’ ‘hung fire’ (to return to the prose of daily life), until -the princess became apprehensive, lest she might not be carried off at -all, and was minded to set out to reverse the process, and carry off the -knight. How would that have sounded? What a deathblow to all the legends -of chivalry! The page’s dress would be rather a difficulty, wouldn’t it? -Fancy me appearing amongst all those nice girls and men at Hollywood -Hall! Inquiring, too, for ‘a gentleman of the name of Blount!’ I hardly -_did_ know your name then, which would have been a drawback. I am tall -enough for a page, though, and could have arranged the ‘clustering -ringlets, rich and rare,’ like poor Constance de Beverley. How I wept -for her, when I was a school-girl, little thinking that I should have to -weep bitter tears for myself in days to come.” - -“And did she weep, my heart’s treasure, in her true knight’s absence?” - -“Weep?” cried she, while—in the midst of her mockery and simulated -grief, the true tears filled her eyes at the remembrance, “‘wept enough -to extinguish a beacon light’—I took to reading dear Sir Walter Scott -again in sheer desperation. _Ivanhoe_ and _Rob Roy_ saved my life, I -really believe, when I was recovering from that—hm—‘influenza.’ Oh, how -wretched I was! As the Sturt, that dear old river, flowed before my -window, more than once I thought what a release it would be from all but -unendurable pangs. I don’t wonder that women drown or hang themselves in -such a case. I knew of one—yes—two instances—poor things!” - -“Any men?” - -“Yes; two also. So the numbers are even. We don’t seem to be growing -cheerful, though, do we? I feel just a little tired; afternoon tea must -be nearly ready. There’s nothing left for us now (as Stevenson says), -‘not even suicide, only to be good,’ a fine resolve to finish up with.” - -“Let us seal the contract, those who are in favour, etc. Carried -unanimously!” - -The day’s post brought a letter from Mr. Tregonwell, which, like a stone -thrown into a pond, disturbed the smoothness of their idyllic life. An -incursion of the emissaries of Fate was imminent. - -“Mr. Blount’s presence was absolutely, _urgently_ necessary at the mine. -There was industrial trouble brewing. The ‘wages men’—as those labourers -at a mine are called, who are not shareholders—had increased necessarily -to a large number; _they_ wanted higher pay, the weather being bad and -the discomforts considerable. The British shareholders were in a -majority on the London Board and were beginning to make their power -felt. No serious dispute, but better to arrange in time. Would have come -himself to Hobart, but thought it imprudent at present to leave the -mine. Very rich ore body just opened out. Prospects absolutely -wonderful. Sorry to bother him, but business urgent.” - -“What a terrible man!” moaned Imogen. “Wherever we are he will always be -coming suddenly down upon us and destroying our peace of mind. I -suppose, however, that he is a necessary evil.” - -“He is a first-rate worker and very prudent withal, but to show the -element of luck in these matters it is to _my_ decision, not his, that -we retained the share which is now likely to become a fortune.” - -“Oh! but there must be some special quality among your bundle of -qualities which you are so fond of decrying,” said Imogen, with wifely -partiality; “some quick insight into the real value of things, which is -in so many cases superior to mere industry and perseverance.” - -“There must be,” said Blount thoughtfully, accepting the compliment, “or -how should I have secured _one_ priceless treasure to which all the -mines of Golconda are but as pebbles and withered leaves.” - -“What treasure? Oh, flatterer!” said the girl; “how you have capped my -poor but honest belief in you. Well, time alone must tell how this -particularly clever human investment is going to turn out. It won’t do -for this lady to ‘protest too much.’ Now where shall I stay until my -knight returns from the war?” - -“In Hobart, I should say, most decidedly. It is a cheerful city at this -season of year. The coolness of the summer, the charm of the scenery, -the cheerfulness of the society—this being the play-place of six other -colonies. Any chance of Mrs. Bruce coming over? Suggest the idea.” - -“Perhaps she might.” - -“Tell her I have taken a cottage between Sandy Bay and Brown’s River for -her specially; one of the loveliest suburbs. If she’ll come over and -take care of you, I shall be eternally indebted to her for the _second_ -time. You remember the first? How good she was. But for her —, etc.” - -“She must come as our guest, and bring Black Paddy and Polly, and the -babies, for offside groom and nurserymaid—(that’s good Australian, isn’t -it? nearly equal to ‘Banjo’ Paterson).” - -“Stuff and nonsense! Australians talk the purest English; rather better, -in fact, than the home-grown article. But oh! how I should love to have -her here and the dear chicks. Edward could come for her afterwards.” - -So that was settled. Mrs. Bruce, replying, wrote that Edward had given -her leave to come for a couple of months. It was really getting very hot -and baby was pale. He, Edward, not the baby, was going to Sydney on -business; thought of selling out of Queensland, so would cross over and -spend the end of the visit with them. - - * * * * * - -These arrangements were carried out. Mrs. Bruce, with her servants and -children, were safely bestowed at the pretty villa at Sandy Bay, where -Black Paddy, as groom and coachman, and Polly, as under-nursemaid, -excited as much attention as Mrs. Huntingdon’s ayah from Madras. Mr. -Blount was free to depart for the South Pacific Comstock (Proprietary), -which included a decided change from these Arcadian habitudes. Arrived -at Strahan, he perceived various improvements, which he correctly -attributed to Tregonwell’s boundless energy and aroused imagination. - -Long stretches of corduroy, regularly repaired, rendered the transit -business comparatively free from difficulty. Great gangs of men were -employed in clearing the track for the projected railway. The work of -piercing the forest was tremendous. The great size of the trees (a -scientist had measured one eighty feet in circumference), the density -and confused nature of the jungle, through which the way had almost to -be tunnelled, if such an expression can be applied to operations above -ground, retarded progress. The masses of fallen timber at the sides of -the track, the whole laborious task carried on under ceaseless rain, was -sufficient to over-task the energies of all but the stubborn, resistless -Anglo-Saxon. - -But on the mining fields of Australasia, if but the precious metal, -gold, silver, or copper, be visible, or even believed to be within reach -in sufficient quantities, _no toil_, no hardship is sufficient to daunt -the resolute miner; neither heat, nor cold, the burning dust storms of -Broken Hill, the icy blasts that sweep from the solitudes of Cape Nome -over the frozen soil of Klondyke, have power to stay the conquering -march of the men, ay, of the women of our race, or slake the thirst for -adventure which is as the breath of their nostrils. - -So, by the time Mr. Blount arrived on the scene, after a single day’s -journey from the coast, the melodramatic action of a progressive mining -town was “in full blast.” - -The hotels and stores were comparatively palatial. Tall weatherboard -buildings with balconies, enabled the inmates to gaze over the waving -ocean of tree-tops and to mark where the jungle had been invaded by the -pioneer’s axe, that primary weapon of civilisation. The streets, miry -and deep-rutted, had yet side walks with wooden curbs, which -provisionally, at any rate, preserved the foot passengers from the -slough into which the ceaseless trampling of bullocks, horses and mules -had worn the track. As in all such places in their earlier stages, money -was plentiful. Wages were high, labour was scarce. The adventurers who -came to inspect the “field” necessarily brought capital with them. Under -the Mining Act and Regulations of the colony, allotments had been marked -out in the principal streets to be acquired by purchase or lease. Legal -occupation had succeeded the early scramble for possession. A Progress -Committee had been formed, precursor of municipal action, of which Mr. -Tregonwell, of course, was the elected President. Its members advised -the Government of the day of urgently necessary reforms, or demanded -such, with no lack of democratic earnestness. Behind all this life and -movement there was the encouraging certainty of the still-increasing -richness of the principal mine, the original shares in which rose to a -height almost unprecedented. - -Among other necessities of civilisation, a newspaper had, of course, -been established. The _Comstock Clarion_ subserved its purpose by clean -type, smart local intelligence, and accurate reviews of all mining -enterprises from Australia to the ends of the earth. Having been waited -upon by the editor without loss of time, Mr. Blount found himself thus -presented to an intelligent and enterprising public:— - - - “A DISTINGUISHED VISITOR. - -“Yesterday morning we had the honour of welcoming to our thriving -township a gentleman, to whose courage and enterprise the public of -Comstock are indebted for the inception of a great national industry, -the founding of a city fated to rival, if not surpass, in wealth and -population both Hobart and Launceston. Mr. Blount courteously supplied, -in answer to our request, the following interesting notes of his -original connection with the great mine in which he owns a controlling -interest. - -“Visiting Tasmania _en route_ for England a few years since, he was -offered shares in a newly-prospected silver mine. Mr. Tregonwell was -then associated with him in mining ventures. The partners were offered a -half share in the claim newly taken up of four men’s ground, Messrs. -Herbert and Clarke owning the remainder. Mr. Tregonwell, though -experienced and sanguine—of which qualities we have ample proof before -our eyes—advised the rejection of the ‘show.’ Mr. Blount, for a reason -not stated, was firm in retaining it. He was in a position to find the -cash for payment of lease application, rents, and working expenses until -the discovery of the richest silver lode south of the line was an -accomplished fact. ‘Si monumentum queris, circumspice.’” - - -The Latin quotation was inappropriate, inasmuch as it was not proposed -to erect any kind of memorial structure in honour of Mr. Blount, but it -looked well, and few of the readers of the _Clarion_ were critical. -However, the article had the effect of directing all eyes to the -visitor, unobtrusively dressed as he was, whenever he appeared. He was, -of course, _fêted_ and invited to banquets given by leading citizens or -mining celebrities. The financial condition of the mine was eminently -satisfactory, even brilliant. It held a high place among British -investors and foreign syndicates. Members even of the British Parliament -did not disdain to take passages in the “P. and O.” or “Messageries’” -boats for the special purpose of inspecting the wonderful mine. They -returned laden with lumps of ore, being fragments of a silver mountain -which they had seen with their eyes and driven a pick into when -personally conducted by the American “mining Captain,” who received -£5,000 a year salary, and was promised another £1,000 should things -continue to go well. - -As the season had advanced the weather even in that austere and dreadful -wilderness relaxed its icy grip. The forest trees, the giant eucalypts -and towering pines, “had a tinge of softer green.” The moss looked -bright “touched by the footsteps of spring,” haunting even that unlovely -wild. Mr. Blount, though loyally impatient to return to his Imogen and -the calm delights of Hobart, felt distinctly in better spirits. He even -took a mild gratification in marking the heterogeneous element of the -stranger hordes that arrived daily, gathered as they were from the ends -of the earth, of all nations apparently, and several colours. “Gentle -and simple,” forlorn workers and wayfarers from many a distant land, -mingled with derelicts of the classes akin to “Mr. and Mrs. Winchester.” -The men feverishly anxious to strike some lucky find or chance -investment, the women poorly dressed, working at the humblest household -tasks, all wearing the vague, yearning, half-despairing expression, -which comes of the heart-sickness of “hope deferred.” Theirs was the -harder lot. Still, with but few exceptions, they faced the rude living -and unaccustomed toil with the courage women invariably show when hard -fortune makes a call on their nobler attributes. - -Nowhere is the ascent of the “up grade” of mining prosperity, when the -tide of fortune is flowing, and the financial barometer is “set fair,” -made easier than in Australasia. Rude as may be the earlier stages, the -change from the mining camp, the collection of rude cabins, to the town, -the city even, is magically rapid. To the gold or silver deposit, as the -case may be, everything is attracted with resistless force as by the -loadstone mountain of Sindbad. Time, distance, the rude approach by land -travel, the stormy seas, all are defied. And though delays and dangers -are so thickly strewn before the path of the adventurer, he and his like -invariably arrive at their goal and would get there somehow, if behind -every tree stood an armed robber, and were every trickling creek a -turbulent river. - -Mr. Tregonwell had proved himself capable of carrying out the rather -extensive programme, financial and otherwise, which he had produced for -the inspection of his partners on their first meeting at the mine. The -manager of world-wide experience and unequalled reputation _had_ been -procured from America; had been paid the liberal salary; had proved -himself more than worthy of his fame. The railway to Strahan was in -process of completion. Contracts, let at many different points, were -nearing one another with startling rapidity. - -The price of provisions had fallen. Wages were high—yet the contractors -were making as much money as the shareholders. With the exception of the -very poor and the chronic cases of ill-luck from which no community is, -ever has been, or ever will be free, the Great Silver Field was the -modern exemplar of a place where every one had all that he wanted now, -and was satisfied that such would be the case for the future. - -The wages misunderstanding had been settled, an arrangement made with -one of the most stable banks in Australia, by which the Directors agreed -to cash Mr. Tregonwell’s drafts for all reasonable, and, indeed, -unreasonable, amounts, as some over-cautious, narrow-minded people -considered. The predominant partner began to revolve the question of an -early departure. The juniors, Charlie Herbert and Jack Clarke, had -earned golden opinions from Tregonwell as cheerful workers and -high-couraged comrades. He willingly agreed to their holidays at -Christmas time, now drawing nigh, if one would remain with him for -company, and perhaps assistance in time of need, while the other enjoyed -himself among his relatives and friends in one of the charming country -houses of his native land. As for himself, he did not require change or -recreation, his duty was to the shareholders, who had entrusted him with -such uncontrolled powers of dictatorship. - -Mr. Blount would be within easy reach of telegrams at Hobart, whence he -could come up for a week when a difficult point or question of further -outlay needed to be settled. Comstock was not such a very uncomfortable -place now, and would be less so in the near future, and Frampton -Tregonwell had lived and thriven amid worse surroundings. - -So, as the short summer of the West Coast crept slowly on towards the -“great Festival” which heralds “Peace on Earth, and good will towards -men,” all things seemed moving in a tranquil orderly manner towards -organised success and permanent prosperity. The big mill with the newest -improvements, and a high-grade German scientist from Freiburg in -command, had just been completed and was turning out unprecedented -returns. Everything went smoothly, socially and otherwise. Although so -near to what had once been an accumulation of the most desperate -criminals the world could show, only kept under by the merciless -uniformity of a severe administration—the present crime record was -curiously low, and trifling in extent. Labour was well paid, well fed -and lodged. All men had, moreover, the hope of even greater benefits, as -results from their toil. Under these circumstances the list of offences -is invariably light. The inducements to crime were so small, as almost -to lead to an optimistic belief that incursions on the goods and persons -of neighbours would at an early date cease and determine. The dream of -the philanthropist would at last be fulfilled. - -Perhaps, also, that other dream of a socialistic division of labour with -equal partition of the fruits of the earth, and the partition of the -fruits of labour (chiefly _other men’s_ labour) for the benefit of the -poor but honest worker would be an accomplished fact. - -So, in the ordering of things mundane, it came to pass that Mr. Blount, -to his great contentment and satisfaction, had everything arranged and -“fixed up,” as Tregonwell expressed it (culling his phrases from all -nations and many tongues), and departing via Strahan, bade farewell for -the present to Macquarie Harbour, Hell’s Gates, and the other lonely and -more or less historic localities. The passage, for a wonder, was smooth, -the wind fair, and it was with joy and satisfaction, which he could -hardly forbear expressing in a shout of exultation, that he found -himself once more in Hobart, within arm’s length, so to speak, of Imogen -and his “kingdom by the sea.” - -That young woman had kept herself well informed as to the time when the -Strahan steamer might be expected, and appeared at the wharf driving the -mail phaeton. Black Paddy was beside her on the box; in front was the -bay mare, “Matchless,” with her mate “Graceful,” in top condition, and -ready to jump out of their skins, with rest and good keep. This valuable -animal, formerly hard worked, with but little rest, and far from -luxurious fare, had been contented to rattle up and down the hills -between Hobart and Brown’s River and the Huon, without so much as a hint -from the whip. Under present circumstances, she naturally took a little -holding. - -But Imogen and Mrs. Bruce had been accustomed to ride and drive almost -as soon as they could walk. With great nerve and full experience, fine -hands, an unequalled knowledge of the tempers and dispositions, -management and control, of all sorts and conditions of horses, very few -secrets of the noble animal, whether in saddle or harness, were hidden -from them. So when Imogen drove up to the Tasmanian Club, where her -husband had temporarily deposited himself, his specimens and belongings -generally, he had no misgivings as to the competency of his charioteer, -nor did he offer, as most men would have done, to take the reins -himself. - -“How well they look,” he remarked, after the first greeting, -“‘Matchless’ has fallen on her legs in coming to this establishment. -Does she give any trouble in her altered condition?” - -“Hardly any, only she doesn’t like waiting, now there is no cab behind -her. Burra burrai, Paddy! Mine thinkit mare plenty saucy direckaly.” - -That swart retainer understood the position, and helping the club -servant with the heaviest trunk on to the back seat, stepped up beside -it with noiseless agility, while at the same moment “Matchless” and -“Graceful” moved off with regulated speed, which soon landed them at -“home”—a word which Mr. Blount pleased himself by repeating more than -once. - -“Hilda looks just as she did,” said he, “when I first saw her at -Marondah. I admired her then. I admire her now—how little I thought that -I should see her again, as a sister-in-law! or that a certain ‘vision of -delight was to burst upon my sight’ so soon afterwards.” - -“I remember how you stared,” said Imogen; “almost rudely, indeed. Didn’t -you?” - -“First of all, I didn’t know that Mrs. Bruce had a sister in the house. -Secondly, when the girl aforesaid appeared, unexpectedly in all her -fresh and smiling loveliness—pardon my partiality—I was completely -knocked over, so to speak, and couldn’t help a sort of rapt gaze—as at a -wood nymph, which you unkindly call staring. I fell in love—at first -sight as men say—deep, deeper, miles deep next morning, and so will -remain till my life’s end.” - -“I am afraid it goes rather like that with me, if I must confess,” -admitted Imogen, “though the heroine of a modern novel would never have -behaved so badly, now would she?” - -“All’s well that ends well,” said the returned voyager. “I’ll hold the -horses while you run in, Paddy!” - -The luggage having been taken in, Paddy ascended nimbly, and drove -soberly round to the stable. - - * * * * * - -Christmas having actually arrived, it was the commencement of the -“season” in Hobart and Tasmania generally. The dear little island, so -true an epitome of the ancestral isle in the climatic conditions, in the -stubborn independence of the population, in the incurious, unambitious -lives of the rural inhabitants, was filled with strangers and pilgrims -from every colony in Australasia. - -Persons in search of health, haggard men from the Queensland “Never -Never” country, the far “Bulloo,” and “The Gulf,” where hostile blacks -and fever decimated the pioneers! Outworn prospectors from West -Australia—a rainless, red-hot, dust-tormented region, where, incredible -as it may appear, the water is charged for separately as well as the -whisky. - -Commercial, pastoral and legal magnates, whose over-taxed brain craved -little save rest and coolness—contented to lie about inhaling the -evening breeze—to read, to fish, to muse, to think maybe, of a heaven, -where lawyers’ clerks, even with briefs, were not admitted. Sailors too, -from the half dozen men of war from the South Pacific fleet, having a -run ashore, and playing their part nobly, as is their wont on land, in -all picnics, balls and cricket matches, even in drives to the Huon River -nearly fifty miles out and back. This was rather an object lesson for -British tourists, as to the capabilities of Australian horses, and -Australian drivers, inasmuch as the leading drag with four horses, hired -from a well-known livery stable proprietor, and driven by a native-born -Tasmanian, negotiated the fifty-mile stage, allowing two hours for -luncheon and boating on the river, between breakfast time and dusk, the -whole being performed not only without distress to the well-bred team, -but with “safety to the passenger, and satisfaction to the looker on.” -The road was by no means of average description, far from level, indeed, -having shuddering deeps, where it wound along hillsides, and sudden -turns, and twisted at right angles, when the leaders ran across a dip in -the gully, which crossed the road, and the wheelers had their heads -turned at right angles to the leaders. Then the down grade towards the -sea, on the return trip, when the heavily laden coach rolled, lurching -at times near the edge of the precipice, and the “boldest held their -breath for a time.” But through every change, and doubtful seeming -adventure, in darksome forest, and ferny glade, where the light of -heaven was obscured, the watchful eye and sure hand of the charioteer -guided team and coach, with practised ease and assured safety. - -Then the race meeting, to which you went by land or water, as taste -inclined. The deep sea fishing in the harbour, or the streams so clear -and cold in summer, where the trout lay under bridge or bank, and when -skies were dull, took the fly much as in Britain. - -The hunting with country packs, the shooting, the long walks over hill -and dale—the halts, when a peep through the forest glades showed a -distant view of the foam-crested ocean! What joyous days were those, -when with Imogen by his side, who walked as well as she rode and drove, -they started with a few picked friends for that exceptional piece of -exercise, which includes the ascent of Mount Wellington. It is an Alpine -feat, only to be attempted by the young and vigorous, in the springtime -of life. “The way is long, the mountain steep,” and if limbs and lungs -are not in good order, the pedestrian is sure to tire half way, to -collapse ingloriously before the summit is reached. Rough in some places -is the track—over the ploughed field’s (so called) painful march. A -sprained ankle may easily result, from a slip, or worse even, a -dislocated knee, most tedious and troublesome of the minor injuries, and -which has lamed for life ere now the too confident pedestrian. Another -danger to be feared, is the sudden envelopment by the mountain mist, -under the confusing conditions of which more than one person has lost -his way and his life, perishing in some unnamed retreat. No such dangers -affrighted Imogen and her husband. They reached the summit, and standing -there, hand in hand, beheld the unrivalled scene. High over forest and -valley they gazed o’er the boundless ocean plain—so still and shining, -three thousand feet below them. The forest, with apparently a level -surface above its umbrageous eucalypts, looked like a toy shrubbery. The -city nestled between the sea wall and the enormous mountain bulk, under -whose shadow it lay. - -The busy population looked small as the denizens of a populous anthill. -“It is a still day, ‘Grâce à Dieu,’” said Blount; “there’s no tyrannous -south wind from the ocean—coming apparently straight from the ice fields -of the Pole, to chill us to the bone, and cause the poor forest trees to -cry and groan aloud in their anguish. Wind has its good points, -probably, but I confess to a prejudice against the Euroclydon variety. -Especially when we are doing this Alpine business. By the way, there is -Mr. Wendover’s delightful woodland châlet—only a mile away. Suppose we -make a call there.” - -“I scorn to acknowledge myself tired,” said Imogen; “but raspberries and -cream—this _is_ the season—would be an appropriate incident on this day -of days. They recall the Hermitage, do they not? I can’t say more.” - -“And Mrs. Wendover is so charmingly hospitable,” said a girl companion. -“She has always the newest books, and music too, which, with the -before-mentioned raspberries, takes one far in the pursuit of -happiness.” - -“While youth, and the good digestion which waits on appetite, last,” -said a middle-aged person with a bright eye and generally alert -expression. “Youth is the great secret. Heaven forbid that any of this -good company should confess to a hint of middle age, but _I_ have a -haunting dread lest the world’s best joys should be stealing away from -me.” - -“Are there not compensations, Captain Warrender?” asked a lady, whose -refined, intellectual cast of countenance suggested literature. “Think -how delightful to hear of one’s last new book being rushed for new -editions, and simply being devoured all over the world.” - -“Success is pleasant in whatever state of life it comes to one, but were -I allowed to choose between reading and writing, my vote would be -distinctly in favour of the former. The delightful self-complacency with -his task which the author of a successful book is supposed to feel is -over-rated, I assure you. It becomes a task, like all other compulsory -labour, and there are so many times and seasons when one would much -rather do something else. The chief, almost the only valuable result to -the producer (except the money, which, of course, is not despised) is, -that the reputation of successful authorship brings with it a host of -agreeable acquaintances, and even some true and lifelong friendships.” - -“Have you found other authors free from envy, malice, and so forth?” -asked Mrs. Allendale. - -“I can truly say that I have, with the rarest exceptions. Now and then a -man writing on party lines will administer a dose of unkind, perhaps -unfair, criticism which he calls ‘slating’ your book. But there is -little real ill-nature in the article, however much you may feel annoyed -at the time. And the freemasonry which exists among literary people, -great and small, makes on the whole for friendly relations. A man says: -‘Oh, you wrote _Cocoanuts and Cannibals_, didn’t you? Had rather a run -when it came out. Queer place to live in, I should think.’ Then you -foregather, and become, as it were, the honorary member of a club. Not -that one volunteers this information, but it leaks out.” - -“Oh, here is the châlet gate, and I see Mrs. Wendover’s pet Jersey cow, -‘Lily Langtry,’” said Miss Chetwynde. “How nice she looks among the red -and white clover. Puts one in mind of dear old England, doesn’t it?” - -“Where you never were,” laughed another maiden of the happy isle. - -“I know that, but I’ve read so much about the grand old country that I -can fancy everything. Dear Miss Mitford! what a lovely touch she has! I -shall go there some day if I live. In the meantime here comes Mrs. -Wendover, all smiles, welcome, and a picture hat, dear creature! I -wonder what Miss Mitford would have thought of this forest, which comes -up so close to the house, if she had seen it. I should be afraid of a -fire some day.” - -“Oh! our forests don’t burn so badly, even when they are on fire; this -place is safe enough. Sunburn is our worst danger just now, and there’s -the naval ball this evening. My cheeks _are_ on fire, just feel them.” - -“Oh, certainly, Miss Chetwynd!” said a small middy, who was of the -party. “Anything else I can do for you?” - -“I was not speaking to you, Mr. Harcourt. I was replying to Clara -Mildmay, and I shall cancel that dance I promised you this evening if -you’re not more respectful.” - -“Oh, here you are!” cried Mrs. Wendover, in accents of genuine welcome. -“This is the most lucky chance. You must all positively stay to lunch. I -was getting tired of my own company for once in a way. John had sent a -messenger to say that he would not come out till the evening. So you are -evidently sent by Allah to cheer my loneliness.” - -“We should all be charmed,” replied Imogen, taking her place as chief -chaperon, “but it is simply impossible. Captain Warrender will tell you -that we are all going to the naval ball this evening, and by the time we -get to Hobart we sha’n’t have a minute to spare, to dress in time and -get the sunburn off our faces.” - -“Then you must come in and have raspberries and cream. It’s quite a -charity to take them off our hands. Walter and Nora and I are going to -the ball too, so I must insist.” - -Cooled and refreshed, indeed invigorated by the raspberries and Jersey -cream, with suitable accompaniments, the jocund crew bade adieu to their -hostess, and trooped off to the Fairy Bower, that fern-shaded trysting -place in the heart of the forest, dear to so many generations of holiday -folk, where the four-in-hand drag awaited them by the fountain, and bore -them safely to their several destinations. The naval ball was a -pronounced success. Could it be otherwise “manned” by the officers of -the half-dozen men-of-war then in harbour? The band, the waiters at the -buffet, the assistants who held the dividing line in the ball-room, the -attendants at the doors of the supper-room, were all in uniform, while -the epaulettes and profusion of gold lace lit up the mass of civilian -costumes. It was a contention seriously debated at the time, and never -satisfactorily settled, as to whom the honour of being the belle of the -ball should be awarded. But all agreed that the crown of the Queen of -Beauty, if there had been a tournament, as in the days of chivalry, at -which to present it, should have been awarded either to Mrs. Blount -(_née_ Imogen Carrisforth) or to Miss Leslie, a native-born Tasmanian, -whose complexion was held to be unapproachable south of the Line, and -whose pre-eminence in loveliness had never before been disputed. - -Each had their partisans, sworn admirers and liegemen. Each was declared -to be the prettiest girl, or the handsomest woman in Australasia—for the -New Zealand competitor “took a lot of beating,” as an ardent youthful -admirer phrased it. It remained, however, undecided, and will probably -be revived, like other vexed questions from time to time, with similar -lack of finality. As to one thing, however, the unanimity was pronounced -and decisive—the success of the entertainment. When “God Save the Queen” -was played, it was nearer three o’clock in the morning than two, and all -but the most inveterate dancers had had enough of it. Some of the junior -division indeed petitioned for just one more waltz and a galop; but -discipline being the soul of the navy, as well as the army, the -Admiral’s fiat had decided the matter irrevocably. Carriages were -ordered, shawls and wraps were donned by the matrons and maids who had -“seen it out,” as their partners expressed it, and the curtain fell upon -one of the most successful comedies or melodramas, as the case may be, -still popular, as in old historic days, on the mirthful, mournful, but -ever mysterious stage of human life. - -After this crowning joy came a succession of _fêtes_. Meetings of the -Racing and Polo Clubs, with a gymkhana arranged by the latter society, -also picnics and private parties, the Garden Party in the lovely grounds -of Government House, where that befitting architectural ornament -overlooks the broad winding reaches of the Derwent. All these had to be -attended and availed of. The great events of the Polo Club, in “potato -and bucket” race, when the competitors were compelled to dismount, pick -up a potato from the ground and deposit the same in a bucket, placed for -the purpose; as also the tandem race, when the aspirant riding one -horse, had to drive another, with long reins, before him, also to -negotiate a winding in and out course, before returning to the starting -point, were both won by an active young squatter from the Upper Sturt, -to the unconcealed joy of Mrs. Bruce and Imogen, the latter race, -indeed, after a very close finish with a naval officer, who was the -recognised champion at this and other gymkhana contests. But won it was, -by the pastoral champion, though only by a nose. So after an inquiry -meeting by the committee of the club, it was to him adjudged, and the -trophy borne off in triumph. It is not to be supposed that the -squirearchy of the land was unrepresented at these Isthmian Games, or -that under such circumstances they left their wives and daughters, aunts -and cousins behind; or, if such an unnatural piece of selfishness had -been for a moment contemplated, that the women of the land would not -have organised a revolt, declared a republic, elected a president, and -marched down with banners flying to invest the capital, and make their -own terms with the terrified Government of the day. No such Amazonian -action was, happily, rendered necessary by sins of omission or -commission on the part of their liege lords or legal protectors. - -That they had sufficient courage and martial spirit for such an -_émeute_, no one doubted. But with the exception of a quasi-warlike -observation by a Tasmanian girl, on beholding the phalanx of alien -beauty arrayed at the naval ball, that on the next occasion of the sort -she intended to bring her gun and shoot a girl or two “from across the -Straits” by way of warning, no specific action was taken. - -So the old antagonism (veiled, of course, and conventional) that has -existed between the home-grown and the imported feminine product, was -conducted with discreet diplomacy, and the admirers of Helen or Briseis -had to content themselves with displaying personal or conversational -superiority in lieu of lethal weapons. - -So on the ground in drags, mail phaetons, buggies and dogcarts of the -period, the female contingent arrived, chiefly before the first gun of -the engagement metaphorically aroused the echoes in the glens and forest -glades around Mount Wellington. The Hollywood Hall family was fully -represented, the Claremonts, the Bowyers. The magnate of Holmby, Mr. -Dick Dereker, in all his glory, had deposited himself and his most -intimate friend, John Hampden, a new arrival from England, at the club, -and was daily to be viewed by the admiring population of Hobart in Davey -or Macquarie Street in company with other stars of the social firmament. -Mr. Blount noticed with interest the extraordinary popularity which -encircled this favourite of fortune in the chief city of his native -land. As he walked down the street it was a kind of royal progress. He -was the people’s idol, the uncrowned king of the happy isle. Men of note -and standing crossed over to greet and shake hands with him. Even the -shady characters had a soft spot in their hardened hearts for “Dicky -Dereker.” Why was this adulation? Other country gentlemen were handsome -and chivalrous. All of them rode, drove, shot well; they, like him, had -been born “in the island,” and as such had the claims of a patriot for -the suffrages of their countrymen. - -But the difficulty was to find all these virtues, personal -recommendations, gifts and graces, centred in one individual. The -popular verdict so declared it. And if the “classes and the masses” in -Tasmania had been polled as to his fitness for any post of eminence, -from the vice-regal administrator of the government downward, every man, -woman and child in the island would have gone “solid” for “Dicky -Dereker.” - -Of this resistless, all-conquering sway, Mr. Blount was shortly to have -proof and confirmation, had such been needed. Sooth to say, he felt more -than slight misgivings; indeed, something near to what is called an -accusing conscience, with respect to his marked attentions to and -quasi-friendship for Laura Claremont on the occasion of his last visit -to Hollywood Hall. He was then (it may be stated for the defence) in the -somewhat perilous position of having been warned off, as he considered -it, by the family at Marondah, and was thus unprovided with an -attraction of counterbalancing interest. “Full many a heart is caught on -the rebound,” and doubtless the sympathetic manner and intellectual -superiority of Laura Claremont, combined with her personal endowments, -constituted a strong case for the unattached, unprotected stranger. When -he returned to Tasmania, bringing his bride with him radiant with the -overflowing happiness of the recent honeymoon, would the sympathetic -“friend” in whose society he had so openly delighted look coldly upon -him? Would _her_ friends and compatriots combine to denounce him as an -unworthy trifler, who, after paying compromising attentions, not only -“rode away,” but married a former flame, not even permitting a decent -interval to elapse between his preference for the old love and desertion -of the new? - -Much troubled by these considerations he had even thought over an -indirect way of breaking the news, in a non-committal way, to the young -lady, and her (perhaps) justly incensed family and friends. - -But _qui s’excuse s’accuse_ recurred to his mind with painful -promptitude. So, fortunately (as it turned out), he decided to trust to -time and chance for extrication from the dilemma. For, as he was -entering the hospitable portal of the Tasmanian Club, with a view to -luncheon and the later news items, he was joined by Claude Clinton, who -at once questioned him as to subscriptions for the forthcoming ball, -given by the members and players of the polo club. “How many tickets -shall I send you? They’re a guinea for men and half as much for ladies; -and have you heard the last engagement? No? It was only given out this -morning. Laura Claremont has made up her mind at last; Dick Dereker is -the happy man!” - -“Send me a dozen tickets,” said Mr. Blount, who felt like John Bunyan -after his burden of sins had been removed. “They have my heartiest -congratulations.” - -“All right,” said the omnipotent Secretary for Home Affairs; “by the -way, wasn’t the fair Laura rather a friend of yours? The Tenby girls -thought you were making strong running at the Hollywood Ball.” - -“Every man of sense and taste must admire Miss Claremont,” he replied -with diplomatic gravity, masking, however, emotions of such intensity -that he had some difficulty in preserving calmness. “I was no exception -to the rule, that was all.” - -“Perhaps it helped to bring Master Dick to the scratch—the affair has -been going on for years; if so, you did her a service. Dick is a -splendid fellow, but when a man has a whole island to pick from he feels -inclined to dally with a decision. However, they are to be married at -once—before the House meets—not to let the honeymoon interfere with his -legislative duties.” - -“I am delighted to hear it,” Mr. Blount affirmed, with such evident -sincerity that Mr. Clinton departed to overtake his multifarious duties, -with the conviction that he was a fine, large-hearted, generous -personage, as well in the matter of ball subscriptions as in the more -romantic passages of life’s mystery. The young lady referred to had not -come down to the naval ball for reasons of her own, or otherwise, the -Squire’s health requiring her attendance upon him at the Hall. Such, at -any rate, was the explanation given by the family friends:—“Dear Laura -was _so_ attached to her father, and so self-denying and conscientious -in the discharge of her duties.” - -Some of the frivolous division, perhaps a trifle impatient of perpetual -proclamation of “Aristides the Just,” hinted that there _is_ such a -device known to the female heart—inscrutable as are its myriad emotions -and minor tendencies—as the encouragement of a fervent admirer, up to a -certain point, for the stimulation of a laggard lover, the adorer No. 2 -being known in the unstudied phrase as the “runner up.” However that may -have been, Mr. Blount took care to communicate the momentous -intelligence to his wife and sister-in-law immediately upon his arrival -at home. Mrs. Blount, with natural curiosity, expressed a wish to see -this wonderful Laura Claremont—whom everybody praised and indeed -referred to as one of the few girls in the island worthy of Dick -Dereker. “I suspect _you_ flirted with her on that driving tour—and at -the ball too—you lost your card, I remember. Now confess!” - -“She is a very fine girl—dark, and stately-looking. Every one admires -her, but as for comparing her, _et cetera_, the idea is preposterous.” - -“He hadn’t got our letters then, poor fellow!” said Imogen, who, -fortunately, was not of a jealous disposition. “So if he made ever such -a little swerve from what is called the path of duty I suppose I must -forgive him. You won’t do so again, sir, I’ll see to that!” - -“I hope you and Miss Claremont will be _great_ friends. She is just the -sort of woman you would like. I’ll make a point of introducing you at -the Polo Ball. Here are the tickets, and a few to spare.” - -“You have been most generous,” said Mrs. Bruce. “I’ll keep three for -Edward, myself, and a friend, if one turns up. I daresay we shall find -one or two.” - -“No, take half; I bought them for the family. Perhaps some of the Upper -Sturt people may turn up.” - -“Quite likely,” said Imogen; “perhaps even from Bunjil! Oh, dear! what -fun that would be!” - -“I know what you are laughing at,” said her sister. “Do you see her -joke, Val?” - -“Not in the least. Let us share it, Mrs. Bruce.” - -“It is a good joke,” said that merry matron, going off again into fits -of laughter; “but I shall not tell you just yet. It is a secret.” - -The male relative looked puzzled, admitting that the solution was beyond -him; at which stage it seemed destined to remain. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - -A DESCRIPTION of “the season” in Hobart, whether regarded as a summer -land for tourists, a safe run ashore for the men and officers of the -South Pacific “fleet in being” detailed at Hobart, or as an object -lesson for untravelled inhabitants—would seem to consist mainly of a -record of recreational events. A list of picnics and pleasure parties, -driving and fishing excursions, with pedestrian rambles—chiefly by day, -but occasionally _au clair de la lune_. - -The rivers named after Messrs. Brown and Huon, long dead celebrities, -received more than their share of patronage, it would seem, in the -entertainment of reckless revellers, whose polo meets and gymkhanas -alternated with the legitimate annual races and steeplechases. - -There must have been business transactions, but they were eluded or -postponed—the only exception being the Great Silver Bonanza, which kept -its bond-slaves hard at work, by means of remuneration on the higher -scale. Night and day, work proceeded with the regularity of one of its -own steam-engines. The Hobart weather was delightful—occasionally -threatening rain but chiefly relenting, and ending towards the close of -day with soft and cooling sea breezes, which refreshed the -pleasure-driven crowds to the inmost fibre of the nervous system. - -In all these ingenious projects for lessening the strain upon the minds -and bodies of ordinary humanity the officers and men of H.M. Royal Navy -were conspicuously effective. At all aristocratic entertainments -“Man-of-War Jack” was utilised to keep the gangways clear, to hold the -rope of division in the ball-room, and otherwise, as “the handy man,” in -spotless array, to display his disciplined alertness. Even the naval -Church parade was attended by the fair ones of perhaps the last night’s -entertainment. On each Sunday morning, therefore, boat-loads of -worshippers, in silk or muslin, might be descried crossing the waters of -the harbour, rowed by an ample crew, under the charge of an -all-important middy, to the flag-ship or frigate, where divine service -was celebrated by the Chaplain of the Fleet, or other amphibious -clergyman, provided by the Lords of the Admiralty. - -In this sense, perhaps, the gay season of Hobart constituted a social -federation of the Australasian States, when other matters, not of -ephemeral weight, might be suitably discussed. From the wave-beaten -isles of New Zealand, where the mountain-crested billows rolled on their -stormy march from the ice-fields of the ultimate pole, to the -mangrove-bordered marshes of Northern Queensland; from the “Never-Never -country” and the “back blocks”; from “the Gulf” and the buffalo lands of -Essington and Darwin, came languid, fever-stricken squatters, to breathe -the cool air of this southern Lotus Land, differing among themselves in -minor respects as to manner, accent, stature and ordinary habitude, but -in heart and brain, British to the core. Roving sons of the Great Mother -Land, holding God’s Commission of the strong hand, the steadfast brain, -to occupy the Waste Places of the earth and develop their inborn trend -towards justice and mercy, law and order. With such inherited gifts, -going forth conquering, and to conquer, to weld into one solid, enduring -fabric, the Empire of Britain. Thus, handing down to their children’s -children lands of freedom “broad-based upon the people’s will,” where -equal laws administered with moderation and mercy are to be the heritage -of England’s sons. The Greater Britains of the South, for all time; and -whether in peace or war, loyal, self-contained, immovable, one and -indivisible. - -The great event of the season was to be the Polo Ball, looked forward to -with almost feverish eagerness, not only by the young men and maidens of -the Happy Isle, but by the large important contingents from abroad, -which exceeded in number, and social value, those of any previous year. -Hence applications for tickets were beyond all calculation. - -Requests, even entreaties poured in, almost until the opening of the -doors of the great hall secured for the function. Claude Clinton was, as -he said, “walked off his legs,” having indeed hardly time to dress and -eat his dinner, while the committee, who had the onerous and responsible -task of deciding upon the fitness of applicants, had to improvise a late -sitting, so as not to disappoint the arrivals by the train from -Launceston, just landed from the New Zealand Company’s extra service -boat, the _Rotorua_. The funds of the Club, however, would be benefited -to such an extent, that the secretary and committee worked loyally till -the last moment, and when Mr. Clinton had given a last authoritative -order, and made a final inspection of the decorations, he sat down to -his dinner at the Travellers’ Club, and drank his pint of champagne with -a conviction that everything had been done to deserve success, and that -the issue lay with Fate. - -Imogen had condescended to inform her relations that a friend of hers -had arrived from Melbourne, who, having made up her mind at the last -moment, would dress and join their party after dining at the Orient -Hotel, where rooms had been secured for her previously. - -She had written confidentially to Mr. Clinton and had her name properly -submitted to and passed by the committee. All was arranged, and she -would go under Imogen’s chaperonage to the ball, and perhaps stay with -them all night. - -“What is her name? Do I know her, Imogen?” inquired her husband. “You -are very mysterious, my dear!” - -“You have seen her, she tells me, but I am not certain whether you will -recognise her. She comes from some place near Adelong in New South -Wales; her people used to live in Tumut.” - -“Then the probability is that she will be good-looking,” said Mr. -Blount. “Some of the handsomest girls I ever saw came from that -sequestered spot. However, we must wait till she shows up. Was she a -schoolfellow of yours?” - -“No, not exactly, but I knew her when she was younger. You will know all -about her when the time comes. I feel desperately hungry, after this -exciting day. Oh, I hear the dinner gong.” - -The dinner was not unduly prolonged, as any one of experience in the -anxieties and precautions which precede such an important function will -understand. So that after an adjournment to the drawing-room, when, -about nine o’clock, the maid delivered a message, _sotto voce_, to Mrs. -Imogen, who forthwith left the room, everyone revolved great -expectations. These were chiefly realised, when the hostess reappeared, -accompanied by a tall, handsome, exceedingly well-dressed girl, who -blushed and smiled, as she was introduced to the company as “Miss -Maguire of Warranbeen.” “Very pleased to meet you, Miss Maguire,” began -Blount, but, with a sudden alteration of tone and manner, “Why, it’s -Sheila! by all the Powers, what a transformation!” as Mrs. Bruce shook -her warmly by the hand, while Imogen stood by her charge, apparently -charmed with the metamorphosis which leisure, the use and reputation of -“money” had effected in the unformed country girl, so lately the “maid -of the Inn,” at the secluded village of Bunjil, on the Upper Sturt. - -“You didn’t know me, Mr. Blount, I could see that. I had half a mind to -ask you what you’d like for breakfast. I’m turned into a young lady, -nowadays, you see! And Mrs. Blount, in her great kindness, persuaded me -to come to the ball to-night, with her and Mrs. Bruce. I’ve been to the -Show Ball at Wagga, and one or two in Tumut, by way of a start. But this -is such a grand affair; I feel frightened.” - -“I am sure, Sheila, you have no cause to be,” said Mrs. Bruce, -reassuringly; “you native girls can all dance—it seems an instinct; your -dress is charming, and you will gather confidence as the ball goes -on—and your card is filled. You are a mysterious stranger, for the -present. That alone will be an attraction. We’ll see to your -introductions; and there are naval men in profusion.” - -“I like sailors,” said Sheila, “they are so unaffected and jolly, put on -no side” (she had been at a country ball at the age of sixteen, to which -the officers of a man-of-war, then in Sydney, had been bidden by a -liberal-minded squatter, who had invited the whole of the “township” -inhabitants, in one act, and a great success it was), for Sheila bore -about with her for all time the memory of two polkas, a waltz, and a -galop danced with the Honourable Mr. de Bracy, midshipman of the period, -to their mutual satisfaction and enjoyment. - -“I think you will have your share of partners, Sheila,” said her -hostess; “you certainly do credit to your dressmaker, and the Upper -Sturt complexion will give you a chance with these Tasmanian girls, who -are justly celebrated for theirs.” - -“What a transformation!” said Blount to his wife, before they put on -their wraps. “I never could have believed it. Of course she has fined -down since the Bunjil days. I believe old Barney sold a Queensland -station, with 30,000 head of cattle, just before the seasons turned dry. -So she and her sister are considerable heiresses. She has, as you see, -self-possession, and sense enough to avoid anything _outré_.” - -“You’ll see she’ll get on quite well—make a success, indeed. People say -money isn’t everything; but it goes a long way in this, or any other -country, especially combined with looks, and other good qualities. You -had better dance the opening set of lancers with her for a start.” - -Mrs. Imogen’s predictions were verified. There was a certain amount of -romantic interest attached to the fresh-looking, handsome stranger, -reputed wealthy, and who danced so well. “Came, too” (people said), -“with that nice, high-bred-looking Mrs. Bruce and the bride.” She danced -the first lancers with Mr. Blount, and while exhibiting familiarity with -the figures, moved with the graceful indifference which has succeeded -the erstwhile precision with which the “steps” were anciently performed. -Mr. Blount managed to secure an early waltz, and the naval men coming by -shiploads, as it appeared to her, Sheila’s programme was filled in no -time. - -That there could not have been a better ball, all the authorities -combined to declare. The ever-successful secretary and plenipotentiary -had once more covered himself with glory; the arrangements were perfect, -the supper was “a dream,” and when Sheila found herself taken in by the -Captain of the flag-ship, the Admiral and the Governor being in the -immediate vicinity, she wondered whether she was likely to fall down in -a fit, or if some other kind of death would result from such an -overflowing flood of triumphant, ecstatic bliss. - -However, she did not die, or indeed was she likely to perish of nervous -excitement consequent on pure, unadulterated pleasure; the early -bush-training, together with a naturally good constitution, would always -preserve her from such an untimely fate. - -Imogen was carefully, prudently, introduced to Miss Laura Claremont, who -prophesied that they would be great friends, and invited her and her -sister to Hollywood. Both of which Imogen accepted conditionally on her -husband’s—she laid a slight emphasis upon that very possessive word—“on -her husband’s not being hurried away by Mr. Frampton to that horrid -Zeehan.” The Upper Sturt party, as we may for convenience describe them, -got their full share of partners it may be believed, being all of the -age when, if there be an ear for music, and a terpsichorean taste “what -time the raving polka spins adown the rocking floor,” with good music, -suitable partners, and a smooth surface, nothing much better among the -lighter enjoyments of life is to be found. With Miss Claremont Blount -had danced before, when their steps appeared to suit extremely well. On -this occasion, he saw no reason why he should deny himself the fleeting -indulgence of once more gliding and sliding about with her in the -accepted fashion. - -She graciously acceded to his request for an after supper dance, and in -one of the partly deserted side-rooms they came to a mutual -understanding, which each felt was more or less needed. - -“I owe you a few words,” she said, “if our friendship is to continue—and -I should be sorry for it to end abruptly. It appears to me that we were -both in an exceptional state of mind when we met at Hollywood for the -first time, and if something had not happened—which _did_ happen—one of -us would have felt a right to blame the other.” - -“You have stated the position most fairly,” he said. - -“I hope you don’t think I am so logical,” she replied, “as to be -deficient in feeling. Believe me when I tell you”—and here her dark eyes -glowed with a transient gleam of hidden fire, which he had never before -noticed in them—“I don’t exaggerate when I say that it was a fateful -crisis, such as I had never before experienced.” - -“It was most truly a supreme moment in _my_ destiny,” he replied, as she -faltered and then stopped, overcome by emotion. - -“But, let me go on, I entreat, to make open and full confession, for I -can never recur to the subject, and I trust you to make a similar -promise.” - -“It is given,” said Blount in all sincerity. - -“Then,” said Miss Claremont, “I will not deny that I was attracted to -you at our first meeting, more, perhaps, than towards any man whom I had -ever met, with one exception. You were different from any one with whom -I had previously come into contact. This impression was confirmed as we -saw more of each other. I recognised your mental qualities. I approved -highly of your opinions, your personal attributes and general character -appealed to me strongly. My heart was in an unsettled state; I was weary -of waiting, and began to doubt whether Richard Dereker, with whom I had -been in love ever since I could remember, intended to declare himself. I -am not believed to be impulsive, but, under certain conditions, am very -much so.” - -“All women are,” interjected Blount. - -“Possibly; but let me finish;” and she hurried on—her voice changed from -the deliberate calmness with which she usually spoke, to a hurried -monotone—“If you had proposed to me that night, I should have consented, -I believe. But your departure next morning gave me time to reflect; -saved me, most likely, both of us, from life-long incompleteness, which, -to a woman at least, means settled unhappiness. Then, just after you -left, my fairy prince ‘made up his mind,’ as people say, and I am the -happiest girl in Tasmania. I need not ask about your feeling—it is -written in large print over both of you, and—here she comes! I don’t -wonder.” - -“I was in a most forlorn and wretched state,” said Blount, “when you -took pity on me and healed my wounds by your sympathetic kindness. Never -think you could have done me an injury—and you must let me say, even -under our changed conditions, that _I_ should not have been a life-long -sufferer. But, as in your case, the fairy princess was persuaded of her -knight’s fidelity; the falsehoods set about by enemies were disproved, -and the castle rang with troubadour ballads, and the usual merry-making, -when the ‘traitours and faitours’ were put in their proper places; and -so the incident is closed, and in all gratitude and enduring friendship -it is a case of ‘as you were.’” - -“Yes; I know, I know,” said the fair Laura; “no more protestations, or -else your wife will require explanations, too. Who is the very handsome -damsel she has with her?” - -“Well; a great friend of mine, who stood by me staunchly in my -tribulations and rendered me timely aid. She is a New South Wales -heiress. I will tell you about her another time.” - -“We have been looking for you, Miss Claremont,” said Imogen. “I was -anxious to introduce my friend, Miss Maguire, a friend of my husband’s, -too, who did him important service at a critical juncture without which -(between you and me) things might have turned out differently.” - -“Mr. Blount gave me to understand as much,” said Miss Claremont, “and I -am most happy to welcome any friend of yours or his to our island home. -I hope you have enjoyed yourself, Miss Maguire?” - -“More than I ever did in my life before,” said Sheila, with such evident -sincerity, that no one could help smiling. “I think the people here are -the kindest and pleasantest I ever met. I have often heard of Hobart -hospitality, but never expected to find it anything like this.” - -“I hope we shall continue to deserve such a good character. Strangers do -generally approve of us, and there is no doubt we are always delighted -to see them. I suppose we ought to make a move, Mrs. Blount, I see -Richard looking out anxiously for me. We must all go and thank Claude -Clinton if he isn’t dead with fatigue. We owe a great deal to him.” - -“That we do,” said Sheila, naïvely, “he told me he had been hard at work -since daylight, arranging thousands of things. Poor fellow! I quite -pitied him. I was nearly offering to help with the supper—I am supposed -to be clever in that line.” - -“You might have come off as well as the girl who volunteered to take the -parlourmaid’s place when her sister was short of one at a big dinner, -and afterwards married a baronet with ten thousand a year, who thought -she said ‘Sherry, sir?’ so nicely!” - -“I see Claude Clinton over there,” interposed Blount, who thought the -situation was becoming critical. “He’ll be fast asleep if we don’t go -and pelt him with congratulations. Say something nice to him, Sheila!” - -“That I will,” said she, with effusion, “I quite love him for his -kind-heartedness.” - -“You’re not the only grateful one,” said Miss Claremont, “but you’ll -have to wait your turn. Dick must make a speech, and we’ll all say -Amen.” - -“I’ll do anything if you’ll come home,” said that gentleman. “You girls -would stay till daylight, I believe. Claude, my boy! come here and be -publicly thanked. These ladies have constituted themselves a deputation -and wish to assure you that this is the best ball they ever were at in -their lives; that it wouldn’t have been half as good but for you; that -they will be everlastingly grateful for the perfect arrangements you -have made. Miss Maguire can’t express her feelings in words, but is most -anxious to—” - -“Oh! Mr. Dereker!” cried Sheila, blushing to the roots of her hair, -“pray don’t—Oh!” - -“Don’t interrupt. She’s most anxious to say ‘Amen.’” - -“Amen!” said Sheila, gravely, and evidently much relieved. - -“For what we have received, etc., etc.,” continued Mr. Dereker. “Now for -shawls and the carriage. Can we set you down at the club, Claude? And -you can make a suitable reply on the way.” - -Possibly he did, as he was wedged in, close to Sheila, and what he had -to say was in a softly, murmurous tone; akin to that of the surges on -the shore, which the silence of the summer night made clearly audible. - - * * * * * - -After the triumphant success of the ball, other entertainments followed -in quick succession, in which the visitors, civil, naval and military, -vied with each other in keeping up the excitement, so that the season of -18— was long known as the most successful, harmonious, and generally -mirthful period recorded in Tasmanian annals. Races, regattas, picnics, -gymkhanas, were in turn attended by crowds of visitors from all the -colonies. - -Of four-in-hand drags there was quite a procession. Agriculture was -prospering. Stock was high in price and quality. Mining operations and -investments not only in this, but in all the other colonies, were -phenomenally payable. The financial glow shed by the ever increasing, -almost fabulous yield of the Comstock, and of the great copper and tin -mines, Mount Lyell and Mount Bischoff, gave a magical lustre to all -monetary transactions. A kind of Arabian Nights’ glamour was cast over -the existence of the dwellers in the land, and of all the excited crowds -who had hurried to the favoured isle, where Aladdin’s Cave seemed -suddenly to have opened its treasure chambers in real life and in broad -day, to the favoured inhabitants of the Far South Isle. - -Foremost among the gay throngs who seemed bent upon taking fullest -advantage of the revelries of the period—so appropriate, so suitable, so -thoroughly in harmony with the spirit of the hour, were the festive -celebrities of the Victorian party, by which name they began to be -known. - -Mr. Blount had no notion of receiving all the benefits of his newly -acquired possessions without doing something in requital. His liberality -was unbounded. He subscribed generously to all charitable societies and -local institutions. He gave picnics, dances and fishing parties. He even -went the length of chartering a steamer and carrying off a large -fashionable party to the weird, gloomy solitudes of Macquarie Harbour. - -Here the frolic-minded crowd found their spirits lowered, and their -imagination darkly disturbed, as they roamed amid the ruinous -prison-houses, where rotting timbers told the tale of long neglect; of -fast-fading memories of crime and suffering. They gazed on the immense, -tenantless buildings, with hundreds of cubicles, the mouldering walls, -roofless and ivy-grown, the church where it was deemed that the wretches -whose lives were one long foretaste of hell, might be turned to hopes of -Heaven, after completing a life of imprisonment, torture and despair. -Vehicles were in attendance, besides saddle-horses and guides, under -whose safe conduct the revellers made their way to the silent, deserted -settlement, whence long ago the ghastly procession of chained men -marched at morn to commence each day—a day in which they cursed their -birth hour at dawn and eve, ending it by trusting that each night might -be their last. The visitors trod the rotting planks of the stage, where -fierce dogs had bayed and torn at their chains, as they scented the -escaping convict—where more than one such desperate felon had been -literally torn in pieces, or escaped the hounds to die a more terrible -death amid the sharks which swarmed around the pier. These and other -relics of the bad old days of mystery and fear, having been shudderingly -regarded by the awed and whispering company, the _Albatross_ departed -with a fair wind, a smooth sea, and her much relieved visitors, who, - - “Ignorant of ‘man’s’ cruelty, - Marvelled such relics here should be.” - -Yet as the stars came out and sat upon thrones, looking with sleepless -eyes upon the shadowy outlines of the darksome forest and the savage -coast, a wailing nightwind arose sounding as a ghostly accompaniment to -the dirge-like murmur of the great army of the dead—buried and -unburied—around the accursed charnel-houses, which had polluted even -that Dantean wilderness! - -“Oh! let us get away from this dreadful place!” said Imogen, clinging to -her husband’s arm, “and I vote against seeing any other Chamber of -Horrors. We come to Hobart for rest and pleasure while this halcyon -season lasts. Let us not sadden our souls by one thought of the terrors -in which this place is steeped. I should like to blot out their very -memory and consume the relics off the face of the earth.” - - * * * * * - -It must not be considered, either, that the “Truce of God” (as cessation -of siege or battle was medievally termed), which the Happy Isle -proclaimed to the war-worn denizens of other colonies, less happily -situated for rest and recreation, was entirely devoted to Play. This -year was the session, wisely ordained as fitting in with the general -vacation, for the meeting of the Society for the Advancement of Science. - -Hither came, therefore, to leaven the ordinary frivolities, learned -professors from Australasian universities, legal luminaries, judges, the -Q.C. and the rising barrister, mercantile magnates, statisticians of -world-wide fame, even, indeed, Sir Gregory Gifford, also Sir Harold -Harfager, an ex-Proconsul of our Indian empire. They were vice-regal -guests. Minor luminaries, such as authors, war correspondents, -politicians, home-grown and foreign—in fact almost all the men of “light -and leading” were represented at this unique gathering. Missionaries -from far Pacific Isles, who had faced cannibal hordes, and heard the -yell from crowded war canoes, when poisoned arrows were in the air. They -had their philological treasures and hard-won trophies to exhibit. The -crowded lecture rooms testified to the interest taken in the soldiers of -the Army of Peace. To add to the satisfaction with which the various -excitements and entertainments were availed of by the party from the -Upper Sturt, it so chanced that, in consequence of the favourable -seasons Edward Bruce was enabled to join them a month earlier than he -had expected. He was, moreover, in excellent spirits, openly avowing his -intention to devote his stay in Hobart to pleasure unalloyed, as -compensation for his late pastoral anxieties. He was not contented, -however, after a fortnight’s “idlesse,” without organising a trip to The -Mine, which had lately so developed in wealth, prestige, and reputation, -that it was difficult to say whether it belonged to Tasmania or Tasmania -belonged to it. - -Everything and everybody appeared to be in a state of unprecedented -prosperity in that happy and care-free _annus mirabilis_ if ever there -was one. Mrs. Bruce and Imogen mildly reproached Bruce for being in such -a hurry to leave his family after so long an absence, and what was -worse, carrying off Imogen’s husband. However, he, a man of unresting -energy and enterprise, declared that he could not stand any more of this -lotus-eating life, and that if he did not get away out to the mine, he -would have to return to Marondah. - -At this dreadful threat Mrs. Bruce capitulated, fearing a premature -departure from this land of Utopian delights, where the children were -improving so fast, and gaining a reserve of vigour impossible in a -hotter climate. This consideration, in the devoted mother’s eyes, -overbore all others, and caused her to look philosophically upon the -proposed expedition—which was accordingly decided upon, and a day fixed -for the start, the which came off without accident or delay. - - * * * * * - -It may be doubted whether, except in theatrical stage life, anything -surpasses in rapidity of transformation the change from a fragment of -the primeval wilderness into a thickly populated town, founded on a gold -or silver field of proved richness. Macadamised streets and level -footpaths take the place of miry dray tracks and sloughs of despond. So -was it in the city of Comstock. Handsome hotels and shop fronts, with -plate glass windows, had succeeded weatherboard and slab shanties with -bark roofs. The electric light in globe and street lamps shed its -searching radiance through main thoroughfare and alley. - -The diurnal coach, by which our travellers arrived, was well horsed and -punctual to a fault. The police magistrate and warden of goldfields, -assisted by a strong body of police, preserved order and punished -evil-doers with such deterrent strictness that offences against the laws -were almost unknown. A municipality, with mayor, councillors, and -aldermen had been formed after the British pattern. Thus the foundations -of earliest English law had been laid, and as the erstwhile barren, -hopeless lodge in the wilderness increased in wealth and population, so -the State, “broad based upon the people’s will,” emerged ready made, -only awaiting that gradual development which comes instinctively in -Anglo-Saxon communities, to pass from the rude stage of the mining camp -to the perfected organisation of the city. It was soon made apparent to -the party that Hobart was not the only place where public entertainments -and festive gatherings were to be found. The mayor and corporation of -Comstock, waiting upon the distinguished visitors, whose arrival was -duly chronicled in the _Clarion_, invited them to a formal banquet, -where champagne in profusion was exhibited, and the health of their -guests proposed by the mayor, Mr. Frampton Tregonwell, who made -honourable mention of that distinguished pastoralist and explorer, Mr. -Edward Hamilton Bruce. - -Before this function they had been taken to the lower levels of the -mine, when the “drives” being lighted up, and a few judiciously selected -masses of “native silver” and malachite looked up for the occasion, Mr. -Bruce formed the opinion that he stood in a “quarry” of one of the chief -precious metals. Being a man of business habits, as well as of pastoral -experience, he took the opportunity, under Mr. Tregonwell’s authority, -to inspect the accounts of the Company, and, after examining the -astonishing values of crude and treated ore, he came to the conclusion -that his sister-in-law (untoward as had been the early stages of their -acquaintance) had displayed the unerring instinct with which her sex is -credited in her venture in the matrimonial lottery. The audit -demonstrated the cheering fact that an income of from ten to twenty -thousand a year was assured to each of the four original shareholders in -this most fortunate enterprise. - -“I suppose you and Imogen will be taking a trip home in a few months?” -he said. “With all this money, and the prospects of the season in -London, Australia will lose some of its interest.” - -“Such is our intention; unless anything unforeseen comes in the way -after the Hobart season has come to an end and you good folks have -wended your way back to the Upper Sturt, I think of taking our passage -by the first P. and O. steamer from Sydney.” - -“Won’t it be rather cold to arrive in England so early in the year?” - -“We propose to stay a month or two in Cairo on the way, refreshing our -memories of the _Arabian Nights_; trans-shipping by the Brindisi route, -and after a week or two in Paris, reaching London in May, in time for -Imogen to hear her first nightingale.” - -“A very sensible programme, I wish we were going with you. However, -later on, if the seasons and the stock keep up, we may come and stay at -your country seat.” - -“It was the most fortunate day of my life when I stayed at yours, though -appearances were against me, I confess. However, I look forward to -seeing you and Hilda in my native county, which is not wholly without -interest, especially in shooting, hunting, and fishing. However, I think -it’s drawing on to feeding time. Champagne goes better _after_ -subterranean experiences than before.” - -The banquet was a success. Blount found himself referred to, not only as -the original capitalist in the formation of the great Mineral Property, -which had advanced Tasmania by half a century, socially, commercially, -and mineralogically (the last word a trifle slurred), but as “a patron -of the fine arts, a generous supporter of local charities, and a citizen -of whom they would all be proud, and would remember gratefully in days -to come. They trusted that even in the splendid pageantry of the old and -venerated society, in which he and his amiable wife were so soon to -share, the humble, but heartfelt hospitality of the ‘tight little -island,’ called Tasmania would not be wholly forgotten. Their honoured -guests had accepted invitations to be present at a ball to be given that -evening for the purpose of supplementing the funds of the local -hospital, and all hoped to meet them there. They knew that there were -several representative institutions, including the library, of which -they were justly proud, to inspect. They would not detain the guests by -making further remarks.” - -Mr. Blount had no hesitation in saying that he was never more genuinely -surprised than by witnessing the astonishing, he might say unparalleled, -progress made by the town and district since his last visit. In the -formation of the streets, in the water service, in the installation of -electric lighting, in the hospital and library, Comstock was ahead of -many old-established country towns in Britain. Personally, he should -always take a deep interest in the municipal, as well as the material, -progress of the city, and feel genuine pride in having contributed to -its inception and development. - -A general inspection of the local institutions filled up the afternoon. -The free library attracted much attention. It had been commenced by -subscription, and with private donations, supplemented by books from -tourists and visitors, who generally left any they brought to read by -train or steamer on the journey up. It was a heterogenous collection, -ranging from _very_ light fiction to works on metallurgy, theology, and -civil engineering. However, there was no lack of works of solid value, -so that the miner who wished to improve or distract his mind had no -difficulty in finding books to suit his taste. At the hospital, apart -from typhoid fever and dysentery patients, the cases were mostly -fractures and other injuries resulting from mining accidents. This -establishment, as at all gold and silver fields, was most liberally -supported, irrespective of race, creed, or colour. No working miner knew -whose turn it might be the next to be carried there in agony or -insensibility. Many were the gifts, unostentatiously bestowed, by former -patients in the shape of necessaries or luxuries for convalescents. -These duty visits performed, dinner was undertaken at the Palace Hotel, -a stately three-storeyed building, with a verandah nearly twenty feet -wide and balconies to match. After a more or less sumptuous repast in -the _salle à manger_, electric lighted, where they were served by -well-dressed waiters, with wines of undoubted excellence, and a _menu_ -almost extravagant in variety, and but sparingly partaken of; Messrs. -Bruce, Blount, and Tregonwell sallied forth accompanied by a dozen -dignitaries to the Town Hall. In this imposing building, a crowd of -dancers in “plain or fancy” dress were already in the full swing of -pleasurable excitement. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - -A GOLD or silver field of decent rank and reputation must always compare -favourably in its amusements with a town. In the wide range of his -experiences, in war and peace, on land and water, British or foreign, -the roving miner may challenge comparison with all sorts and conditions -of men. Thus, he is never at a loss for a character to represent, a -costume in which to disguise, or to heighten his personal attractions. -The same rule applies to the women of the family, who have followed his -wanderings, sharing in his privations or triumphs, as the case may be. -Bearing with exemplary patience the inevitable hardships, they are none -the less eager to recoup themselves when legitimate opportunities arise -for amusement. - -When Messrs. Bruce, Blount, and other magnates arrived on the scene, -they were accommodated with seats on the daïs, where they sat proudly in -full public view, reflecting how sharply contrasted was the scene before -them with any possible gathering on the site of the “Comstock Claim”—“of -four men’s ground”—little more than a year ago! The great hall, seventy -feet in length, by thirty in width, was brilliantly lighted, draped with -flags of all nations, above which, surmounting the daïs, the Union Jack -reigned supreme. Upon the satin-like Huon pine floor strolled a motley -crowd. Pirates and princes, peasants and brigands, ballerinas and -matadors, mingled with dairy maids and broom girls, flower sellers and -fishwives (whose “caller herrin’” had the smack of the well-remembered -cry), while dowagers and duchesses, grisettes, tricoteuses, shepherds -and sundowners, jostled here and there, in the dance, with a Red Indian, -a cow-boy, or even an aboriginal in his blanket. - -“The distinguished visitors,” so described in the morning’s _Clarion_, -paid due respect to their municipal and other entertainers. They stood -high in the estimation of their partners, whose looks and enthusiasm for -the dance they would have been indeed hypercritical to have criticised. -Charlie Herbert and Jack Clarke, the latter having got rid of his -unfortunate lameness, were habited as a bushranger and a stock-rider, -respectively. They remained till supper was over, during which -exceedingly festive refection, Mr. Blount’s health, as a fearless -explorer, was enthusiastically toasted, while Mr. Tregonwell was -referred to as a world-renowned mining captain, and the father of the -field. Charlie Herbert was eulogised as a worthy son of the soil, who, -like Mr. Dereker—the speaker must say “Dick” Dereker (cheers)—was an -honour to his native land, and like him, destined to make a name in the -great world. Here every one rose, and cheered to the echo. The speeches -in requital of this courtesy were brief but pointed; and long before the -conclusion of the function, Messrs. Bruce and Blount quietly departed -and soon after sunrise were on the way back to Hobart, accompanied by -Charlie Herbert and Clarke, who deemed themselves to have a just claim -to exceptional recreation after their pioneer experiences. Moreover, -they explained that they could afford to enjoy themselves with a clear -conscience, while Mr. Tregonwell remained on guard—a man never known to -sleep on his post. So these young men chartered a four-in-hand drag, a -few miles out of Hobart, and having borrowed a coach-horn, entered that -city with all proper pomp and circumstance. When Charlie Herbert -proceeded to “swing his reefing leaders,” and pull up at the General -Post-Office, quite a crowd had assembled, eager to gaze on, and to -welcome the prospectors of the wondrous Comstock mine. - -After depositing themselves and their belongings at the Tasmanian Club, -the junior shareholders stated with decision that, having had a fair -allowance of hard work and hard living, they were now going to enjoy -themselves; also to make some return for the hospitality they had -enjoyed in former years. As pleasant detrimentals, though suspiciously -regarded by cautious matrons, they had always, on the whole, been -popular, their want of capital being overlooked in favour of their -engaging manners and family connections. Now, as original shareholders -in the great mining property of the day, they were princes, paladins, -long-lost brothers; in fact, most desirable and distinguished. -Everybody, from the Supreme Court judges downward, called on and made -much of them. Without them no party was complete. At the polo meets they -were conspicuous; they rode splendidly, every one said, as indeed they -did, but not having been able to keep ponies in former years, this was -their first opportunity of exhibiting that accomplishment in public. - -Of course, they were not long in letting people know that they wanted to -give their friends, and more particularly the ladies of Hobart, some -kind of entertainment; the question now being of what pattern and -dimensions it should consist. To this end grave consultations were held; -of balls and parties there had been nearly enough—the young people were, -strange to say, beginning to be tired of dancing. - -Laura Claremont talked of going home to Hollywood soon. If not earlier, -certainly next week. Mr. Bruce was becoming impatient; he began to think -about mustering those polled Angus bullocks in the river paddocks for -the Melbourne market, when a chance remark by Mrs. Blount settled the -matter, and decided the character of the entertainment. - -“How would it be to have a picnic party to the Hermitage?” she inquired, -with an air of much innocence and simplicity. “There is a lovely road by -Brown’s River, and such a view! No one is at the Bungalow now but a -caretaker. There is one fine large room, and a grand verandah looking -out to sea. The eatables, etc., could be arranged early in the day, and -if we were a little late coming home, the nights are so lovely. We can -have all the men-of-war people, and just in time, too; I heard they were -to be off to the islands soon.” - -“Magnificent!” cried out Charlie Herbert and Jack Clarke in one breath. -“Mrs. Blount, you have saved our lives. Jack and I were getting quite -low-spirited and suicidal. We could think of nothing worth while. Balls -are played out. The races at Elwick were about the last excitement. A -picnic on a vast and comprehensive scale is the very thing. Miss -Maguire, when does the Admiral give the order for Nukuheva?” - -Sheila blushed, and seemed taken aback, but rallying, answered, “‘The -captain bold does not confide in any foremast hand, Matilda!’ Isn’t that -in one of the Bab Ballads?” - -“Oh! I thought Vernon Harcourt might have told you,” said Charlie. “You -and he seemed so confidential the other evening.” - -“Suppose you ask him yourself, Mr. Herbert? But, at any rate, it won’t -be till the week after next.” Here everybody laughed, and the girl, -seeing that she had “given herself away,” looked confused. - -“Tell him not to be rude, Sheila. What business is it of his? Say you -won’t go to his picnic, and then it will be a dismal failure.” Mrs. -Blount stood alongside her _protégée_ and looked threateningly at Master -Charlie, who pretended to be shocked at his _faux pas_, and went down on -one knee to Sheila to implore forgiveness. - -“I’ve a great mind to box your ears, Mr. Herbert!” she said, as her face -lighted up with a smile of genuine mirth, “but I suppose I must forgive -you this time. Now, what about this picnic? that’s the real question, -and where is it to be?” - -“I vote for the Hermitage,” said Imogen. “Don’t you, Hilda? I drove you -there one day with ‘Matchless.’” - -“A lovely spot,” said Mrs. Bruce; “only I was afraid the mare would jump -over the cliff once. The road is lovely; I feel sure all the world will -come. We must have half-a-dozen four-in-hands—Imogen and I will be -chaperons. I suppose you young men can forage up two more?” - -“Miss Claremont!” suggested Jack Clarke. “She _is_ so nice.” - -“Quite agree with you,” said Imogen; “but she is not married yet. -Suppose you ask Mrs. Wendover, of the Châlet, she is so kind, and, at -the same time, capable of keeping order, which is necessary, Mr. -Herbert, isn’t it?” - -“Now, don’t be severe, Mrs. Blount! All you young married women get so -dreadfully proper, and talk alarmingly about your husbands. I’ll find -security for good behaviour.” - -“Only my fun,” said Imogen. “But I’m afraid you’ve hurt Sheila’s -feelings. Has she forgiven you?” - -“Oh! Mrs. Blount, don’t tease him any more,” cried Sheila. “He looks -really sorry. It was all my fault, for taking his chaff seriously.” - -“What do you think of Lady Wood?” said Mrs. Bruce, “from West -Australia?” - -“The very one,” cried out all the council. “She has a habit of -authority, as the wife of the Premier of the Golden West Colony—(“and, -though this is a silver mine, ‘Shivoo,’ the relationship is obvious,” -this interpolation was Mr. Jack Clarke’s). Those who are in favour, hold -up your hands! Against it, nobody. The resolution is carried.” - -“Now for ways and means,” said Charles Herbert. “First of all, the -four-in-hand drags—there mustn’t be fewer than half-a-dozen, with power -to add to their number; the men, too, must be able to drive. Claude -Clinton and I will see to that. Of course we make him an honorary member -of the committee of management. The affair wouldn’t be complete without -him.” - -“Of course not. (Chorus) ‘For he’s etc. etc.’” - -“Isn’t it rather early for a song?” queried Mrs. Bruce. - -“Not at all, when two such voices as yours and Mrs. Blount’s are -available, and this is such a grand room to sing in. Music after -breakfast—when you’ve nothing to do afterwards, is simply delicious.” - -“Well, only one verse—Sheila and I will join in,” said Mrs. Bruce. “If -Edward comes in, he’ll think we’re going out of our minds.” - -The tribute to Mr. Clinton’s merits having been rendered with feeling, -Sheila’s fresh voice holding a good position, the council went on to -strict business. - -“The drags first,” said Mr. Herbert, “the affair must be started -properly—now, who are there? There’s Gerald Branksome from W.A., _he_ -can drive, I know—he won the tandem race at the Polo Gymkhana, and the -Victoria Cross race at Hurlingham last year. He can be guaranteed. -There’s Jim Allanson just down from Sydney, a well-known whip, I’ve seen -him drive to Randwick from the Union Club. The Quorn Hall drag with its -four greys will take some beating. I wired to Dick Dereker, he’ll turn -up. Jack, are you good for the brake, with that off leg of yours? It’s a -responsible position.” - -“Count me in,” said that gentleman, who had been to San Francisco; “Joe -Bowman will help with the brake business.” - -“That’s good enough,” said Herbert, “Joe will keep an eye on you going -down hill. I’ll have one, if I have to wire to Melbourne for a team, -that makes the half-dozen, doesn’t it? I daresay there’ll be another or -two by and by. Buggies, tandem carts, and private carriages may be left -to their own discretion, or that of their owners—there’ll be no lack of -them, I daresay.” - -Once the great event was decided upon, neither difficulties nor delays -were considered worthy of notice. The date was fixed: the invitations -were sent out next morning. The social status of the entertainment being -exceptional, no one dreamed of refusing. Rumours of the scale of -magnificence upon which it was to be carried out commenced to -circulate—for one of the conditions of unparalleled advantage in such -affairs, an unrestricted bank balance, was in this case notorious. - -Money being no object to these youthful Monte Christos, they were able -to indulge, therefore, all the fancies of generous dispositions, with -excited imaginations. No expense was spared; no thoughtful kindness -omitted. A large proportion of the hackney carriages and other livery -stable vehicles were secured. As at a contested election, they plied -from the General Post-Office to the Hermitage, with free transit for all -holders of invitation cards. The arrangements were complete and -successful, beyond all previous holiday experiences, and when Charlie -Herbert took the lead with an impressive team, and the belle of Hobart -on the box seat of his drag, life, it may be confidently stated, had few -richer moments, or more dazzling triumphs in store for _him_. - -If he did not quote “let Fate do her worst,” there could be no doubt -that he felt, deep down in his heart, the delicious, ever new, ever -fresh sentiment of the poet. - -Next in order came Edward Bruce, with Sheila on the box beside him, wild -with joy and the excitement of such a position, of which, except in a -dream fairy tale, she had never realised the possibility. Imogen, beside -her, had insisted on relinquishing the place of honour. “No, Sheila, my -dear! My fortune is told, your turn has yet to come, and you have all -our best wishes, you know.” - -“You are too good, Miss Imogen, Mrs. Blount, I mean! Really I don’t know -what I am saying.” - -“Well, you’re looking your best to-day, Sheila! Your dress couldn’t be -better, and this lovely day has sent all the roses to your cheeks. Why, -you might pass for a Tasmanian girl, really—and we know what that -means.” - -“Now, you girls!” said Edward Bruce, in accents of veiled command, “keep -your eyes about you, going down this hill. It’s trying with a heavy -load, and I’ve heard of accidents. Imogen, put your foot on the brake -that side, and give me the least bit of help. Now, we’re on the level -again. Isn’t that view of the sea lovely?” - -Reginald Vernon Harcourt, R.N., Flag Lieutenant of H.M.S. _Orlando_, was -understood to be of that opinion, as he leaned forward from his seat in -the body of the coach, immediately behind the two young women aforesaid, -and remarked as much. This was not the only statement he made before the -procession pulled up at the Sandy Bay Hotel, at the base of the hill -immediately below the Hermitage. And it did not go unnoted, that, being -favourably situated for talking to Sheila over her right shoulder, he -made prompt use of the position, as a naval strategist of experience, -while Imogen and Jack Clarke similarly situated, did not appear to be -quite so eager for conversation. - -The enumeration of the drags and traps following would resemble that of -the Greek ships at the siege of Troy. It will be sufficient to say that -Mr. Dereker’s grey team was held to be the best, as to matching and -style; Dick Dereker, the most finished exponent of the coaching -science—worthy of the great annual pageant in Hyde Park. There were a -few dissentients, who thought the Quorn Hall team and drag faultless. -But the opposition votes were too powerful. He was “Dick Dereker,” -therefore unapproachable in love, war, sport, and every other form of -manly excellence. There was nothing more to be said. His name settled -the matter. - -As it happened, nothing could possibly have been more deliciously -perfect than the weather. Warm, without oppressive heat or sultry -feeling, the faint sea breeze, the murmuring lazy surge-roll, completed -the magic spell, which invited to sensuous enjoyment, the happy -possessors of unworn youth—in which class, the greater proportion of the -guests were fortunately included. - -The day, the season, the environment and attendant circumstances being -propitious, so was the gathering, which was beyond all precedent -successful. All the four-in-hands had turned up; there was such a crowd -at the General Post-Office, that traffic was temporarily impeded. But -that did not matter in Hobart, as it certainly would have done in -Melbourne or Sydney—where indignation would have been aroused. The -Tasmanian population is kindly and forbearing, especially to the -stranger within their gates, through whom, in the season, it must be -admitted, their revenues are substantially benefited. So, as the -four-in-hands passed in single file down Davey Street, cheers rent the -air, and hearty popular enthusiasm was evoked. The hill below the -Hermitage was long and steep, so it was arranged that the drags and -carriages were to be left at the hotel, where adequate accommodation had -been provided, as well for the horses, as for the grooms and drivers to -them appertaining. The walk up hill was neither long nor unduly -fatiguing; providing also for reasonable deviations into the forest -paths, whence more extended views might be enjoyed, or confidential -communications exchanged. This arrangement seemed to suit the majority -of the guests, who might, without loss of time, have been seen scattered -over the sides and summit of the forest hill. At the sound of the great -Chinese gong, a fragment of loot from the Summer Palace at Pekin, in the -half-forgotten Chinese war, a strong converging force prepared to invest -the Hermitage. Here were seen tables on trestles in the principal room, -laden with all the good things which a very active, well-paid caterer -had been able to collect. Haunches of venison, barons of beef, saddles -of mutton, turkeys of great size and amplitude, wild fowl of all -descriptions, lake trout, fresh salmon (frozen), grouse and pheasant, -from the same miraculous arrangement, rendered the choice of viands -difficult, and the taste of the most fastidious “gourmet,” easy to -satisfy. With the popping of the first champagne corks, the conversation -began to strike the note of cheerfulness proper to the occasion, after -which the “crescendo” was maintained at an uninterruptedly joyous, even -vivacious level. - -Speeches were sternly deprecated; an immediate adjournment to the beach -was proposed and promptly carried out. The shining sands invited to -every kind of game and dance suitable to an open air revel. Sets of -lancers were formed; games such as “twos and threes,” “oranges and -lemons,” “hide and seek,” found enthusiastic supporters, while those -pairs who had anything particular to say to each other found quiet paths -and shady nooks in the forest fringe, which lay so conveniently close to -the beaches and headlands. - -There was, apparently, no lack of mutual entertainment, or necessity for -the givers of the feast to invent fresh frolics, for, just as the low -sun gave warning, and the last game of “rounders” came to an end—in -which, by the way, Sheila, who was as active as a mountain colt, had -particularly distinguished herself—the recall bugle was sounded. A late -afternoon tea was served, and a descent made to the lower level, where -the drags, carriages, buggies and dog-carts stood, with horses harnessed -up, ready to start. Among these last-mentioned vehicles was one, a -dog-cart, which was originally intended to accommodate more than one -pair. The driver regretted his inability to take up a third person for -want of room. It subsequently came out that, being a youth of foresight, -he had removed the back seat before leaving Hobart, holding the ancient -averment, “two’s company, three’s none,” still to be in force and -acceptation. However, after the inevitable amount of bustle and -occasional contention of ostlers, all the teams were duly mustered and -loaded up in the same order as before. - -There were, of course, certain reconstructions, among which it was noted -that Mrs. Blount had relinquished her seat next to Miss Maguire, in -favour of the Flag-Lieutenant of the _Orlando_, alleging preference for -the higher seat behind, as by this removal she commanded a more -extensive view of the glorious landscape, spread out by sea and shore, -below and around. Sheila and Lieutenant Harcourt did not appear to be so -deeply interested in scenery—at least, on this occasion—as they kept -their heads down mostly, and spoke, though uninterruptedly, in rather a -low tone during the homeward drive. - -On one occasion, however, they looked up suddenly as a fresh young voice -commenced the opening verse of a well-known song, and before the magical -couplet of “The ship is trim and ready, and the jolly days are done,” -was well over, the whole of the occupants of the drag, as well as those -of the one immediately behind, joined in with tremendous enthusiasm, -until, when the comprehensive statement that “They all love Jack” was -reached, the very sea-gulls on the beach were startled, and flapped away -with faint cries of remonstrance. Then, for one moment, the -Flag-Lieutenant and Sheila looked into one another’s eyes, and read -there something not wholly subversive of the sentiment. - -The moon had risen, illumining the broad estuary, over which, in -shimmering gleams, lustrous lines of fairy pathways stretched to the -silvery mist of the horizon; star-fretted patches of lambent flame -traversed the wavelets, which ever and anon raised a glittering spray -upward, while from time to time the low but distinct rhythmic roll of -the surges fell on the ear. Higher and higher rose the moon in the dark -blue, cloudless sky—the surroundings were distinctly favourable to those -avowals which the moon has, from time immemorial, had under her -immediate favour and protection. If some of the merry maidens of the -day’s _festa_ listened to vows more ardent than are born of the prosaic -duties of every-day life, what wonder? Next morning there was great -excitement at the clubs, and among all the inner circles of Hobart -society. Two engagements were “given out,” one being that of Lieutenant -Vernon Harcourt, of the _Orlando_, to Miss Sheila Maguire, of Tumut -Park, New South Wales, and the other of Mr. Charles Herbert, and a young -lady to whom he had long been attached, though circumstances had -hitherto delayed his declaration. Suspicions had been aroused as to Mr. -Jack Clarke and another fair maid, but nothing was as yet “known for a -fact.” Of course, little was done on the day following this stupendous -entertainment. Everybody was too tired, or declared themselves to be so. -The members of the Polo Club got up a scratch match, however, just to -“shake off the effects of a late sitting at whist.” - -A few ladies rode out to this affair, the ground being situated -picturesquely on the bank of the broad Derwent. Among these Dianas was -Sheila, riding a handsome thoroughbred, and escorted by Mr. Bruce, also -exceptionally well mounted. Mr. Harcourt was observed to join them from -time to time, when his “quarter” was up at polo. He was the show player -of the fleet; always in a foremost position at the gymkhana. In this -particular match, Sheila was observed to take great interest, turning -pale, indeed, on one occasion when he was knocked off his horse in a -violent passage at arms. - -His opponent was adjudged to have been in the wrong, and well scolded by -the captain of his side; the game went on, and Sheila recovered her -roses—her spirits also, sufficiently to join in the cheering when -Lieutenant Harcourt’s side won the match by a goal and two behinds. - -Both of the engagements met with general approbation. The Tasmanian -young lady and her lover belonged to (so to speak) “county” families, -known from childhood to all the squirearchy of the island—always general -favourites. So everybody congratulated sincerely and wished them luck. -The over-sea couple were, of course, strangers, and under other -circumstances, local jealousy might have been aroused by a girl from -another colony carrying off a handsome naval officer, always a prize in -colonial cities. But Sheila’s simple, kindly, unaffected manner had -commended her to even the severe critics of her own sex, the more -sensible members excusing his invidious preference among so many -good-looking, well-turned-out damsels, something after this fashion: - -“You see, he’s only a lieutenant; it may be years before he gets a ship. -He couldn’t afford to marry yet, without money. They say she has tons of -it, and she is certainly very good-looking, and nice in her manner. So -Mr. Harcourt hasn’t done himself so badly.” One person was slightly -dissatisfied. That was his captain. “He is my sailing-master, and a very -good one, too,” he said, in an ill-used tone of voice. “He’ll always be -thinking of her now, and counting the days till he can leave the -service. Suppose the ship runs on a rock, I get my promotion stopped, -and all because of this confounded girl.” Different point of view! - -As for Sheila and her lieutenant, they were perfectly, genuinely, -unmistakably happy. They were both young, she just twenty, he not quite -arrived at thirty. He was a rising man in his profession, and Sheila’s -money, which was, very properly, to be settled upon herself, would allow -them to live most comfortably while he was on shore; besides aiding—as -money always does, directly or indirectly—in his promotion. So the -immediate prospect was bright. Sheila declared that she had always loved -sailors since that eventful ball, where she had joined in the dance on -equal terms with the nobility of Britain. What a fortunate girl she was, -to have such friends; and how much more fortunate she had become since! - -This memorable picnic, often referred to in after years, was considered -to be virtually, if not officially declared, the closing event of the -season. The fleet was to sail in a week or ten days for “the islands,” a -comprehensive term for a general look round the lands and seas of the -South Pacific, in the interests of British subjects. They would be back -in Sydney in three or four months, at the end of which time—a -terrifically long and wearisome period Sheila thought—she and her sailor -were to be married. The Admiral’s ship and officers would then return to -England, after a month’s stay in Hobart and Sydney—the time of his -commission having expired—and another Admiral, with another -flag-lieutenant, would replace them. Sheila would also go to England, -but not in the _Orlando_, modern regulations having put a stop to that -pleasing privilege. But she could take passage in a P. and O. steamer, -leaving about the same time, and be in England ready to receive him in a -pretty house of their own—their very own—where they would be as happy as -princes—happier indeed than some! After the departure of the fleet, a -certain calmness—not exactly a dullness, but bordering on something of -that nature—began to settle upon the Isle of Rest and Recreation. The -Queenslanders, the New South Wales division, the Victorians, South -Australians, and New Zealanders were taking their passages. Edward Bruce -began to get more and more fidgety—he was certain that he was wanted at -the station; really, if his wife and Imogen could not make up their -minds to leave, he must go home and leave them to follow. - -Matters were in this unsettled state, when suddenly in the cable column -appeared the startling announcement, “The Earl of Fontenaye died -suddenly yesterday, at Lutterworth, soon after hearing the news of his -eldest son’s death at Malta from an accident at polo. The title and -estates devolve upon the younger son, the Honourable Robert Valentine -Blount, at present in Australia.” - -This news, it may well be imagined, was received with mingled feelings -by the people most nearly concerned. The Earl had been in failing health -for years past; but as a confirmed invalid, had not aroused apprehension -of a sudden termination to his succession of ailments. Blount and his -father had been on excellent terms; their only serious disagreement had -been on the subject of the younger son’s unreasonable wandering—as the -old man termed it—to far countries and among strange people. He had not -gone the length of prohibition, however, and his last letter had assured -the errant cadet of his father’s satisfaction at his marriage, and of -his anxiety to welcome the bride to the home of their race. Now all this -was over. Blount would never behold the kind face lighting up with the -joy of recognition, or have the pride of presenting Imogen in all her -grace and beauty to the head of his ancient house. His brother Falkland -too, who used to laugh at his pilgrimages, as he called them, and ask to -be shown his staff and scrip, with the last news of the Unholy Land, as -he persisted in naming Australia. What good chums they were, and had -always been! His brother had never married; in that respect only -withstanding his father’s admonitions, but promising an early -compliance. Now, of course, in default of a baby heir Blount was Lord -Fontenaye, the inheritor of one of the oldest historic titles and -estates of the realm—a position to which he had never dreamed of -succeeding; the thought of which, if it had ever crossed his mind, was -dismissed as equivalent in probability to the proverbial “Château en -Espagne.” Perhaps his most powerful consolation, independently of the -change involved in becoming an English nobleman, with historical titles -and a seat in the House of Lords, was the contemplation of Imogen as -Lady Fontenaye. - -To her, the feeling at first was painful rather than otherwise. She -sympathised too deeply in all her husband’s mental conditions, not to -share his grief for the sudden loss of a father and brother to whom he -had been warmly attached. He would never be able to tell that father -_now_ how deeply he regretted the careless disregard of his feelings and -opinions. Nor could he share with his brother, in the old home, those -sports to which both had been so attached since boyhood’s day. The pride -of proving that in a far land, and among men of his own blood, he had -been able to carve out a fortune for himself, and to acquire an income, -far from inconsiderable even in that land of great fortunes: even this -satisfaction was now denied him. Imogen too, dreading always an -inevitable separation from her sister, felt now that their absences must -necessarily be greater, more lengthened, until at last a correspondence -by letter at intervals would be all that was left to them of the happy -old days in which they had so delighted. - -Why could not Fate indeed have left them where they were, provided with -a good Australian fortune, which they could have spent, and enjoyed -among their own people, where Valentine would have, in time, become an -Australian country gentleman, bought a place on the Upper Sturt, and -lived like a king, going of course to Hobart in the summer, and running -down to Melbourne now and then? Why indeed should they have this -greatness thrust upon them? - -So when Imogen was called upon by various friends, ostensibly to -inquire, but really to see “how she took it,” and whether she showed any -foreshadowing of the dignities, and calmness of exalted rank, they were -surprised to see from red eyes, and other signs, that the young woman -upon whom all these choice gifts had been showered had evidently been -having what is known in feminine circles, as “a good cry,” and was far -from being uplifted by the rank and fame to which she had been promoted. - -This state of matters was considered to be so unwise, unnatural, and in -a sense ungrateful, to the Giver of all good gifts, that they set -themselves to rate her for the improper state of depression into which -she had allowed herself to fall. She was enjoined to think of her duty -to society, her rank, her position among the aristocracy of the proudest -nobility in the world. Of course it was natural for her husband to be -grieved at the death of his father and his brother. But time would -soften that sorrow, and as she had never seen them, it would not be -expected of her to go into deep mourning or to wear it very long. In the -face of these, and other practical considerations, Imogen felt that -there would be a flavour of affectation in the appearance of settled -grief, and allowed her friends to think that they had succeeded in -clearing away shadows. But she confided to Mrs. Bruce, in the confidence -of the retiring hour, that Val and she would always look back to their -quiet days at Marondah, and their holiday, lotus-eating season in -Hobart, as part of the _real_ luxuries and enjoyments of their past -life. - -“However, you will have to come and see me at Fontenaye!—how strangely -it sounds—with Edward and the dear children, and we must get Mr. -Tregonwell to make something happen to the Tasmanian Comstock, so that -_we_ will come out like a shot. But, oh! my dear old Australia! how I -shall grieve at parting with you for ever!” - -Then the sisters kissed, and wept in each other’s arms, and were -comforted—so women are soothed in time of trial. On the next morning -Imogen appeared at breakfast with an unruffled countenance, talking -soberly to her husband and brother-in-law about the wonderful change in -their future lives, and their departure by the next mail steamer. - -This, of course, was imperative. The situation became urgent. Mr. Bruce -agreed to remain until the P. and O. _Rome_, R.M.S. came for her load of -so many thousand cases of Tasmanian apples, and with incidental -passengers steamed away for Albany, Colombo, Aden, Cairo, and the -East—that gorgeous, shadowy name of wonder and romance. Then would the -Australian family return to their quiet home by the rippling, winding -waters of the Sturt, and the English division return to become an -integral portion of the rank and fashion, the “might, majesty and -dominion” of the world-wide Empire which has stood so many assaults, and -which still unfurls to every wind of Heaven the “flag that’s braved a -thousand years, the battle and the breeze.” - - * * * * * - -It came to pass during one of the necessary conversations relative to -the voyage, that Lord Fontenaye said to her ladyship, “Does anything -occur to you, relative to Sheila Maguire, my dear Imogen?” - -“Indeed, I have been thinking about her a great deal, lately,” said the -youthful countess. “She can’t be married until Lieutenant Harcourt and -the fleet return from the Islands. Till then, she will have to stay in -Hobart.” - -“Won’t that be a little awkward for her? She has no friends, that is to -say, intimate friends, over here—though, of course, we could get her -efficient chaperonage—eh?” - -“I know what you are thinking of, Val! It would be the very thing—and -oh! how kind of you.” - -“What am I thinking of, and why am I so kind—have I married a thought -reader, my dear Imogen?” - -“Why, of course, you are intending to ask her to go home with us, and to -be married from Fontenaye. It is a splendid idea. It would be -unspeakably nice for her, and she would be such a help and comfort to -me, on our travels.” - -“The very thing! Do you think she will like the idea?” - -“Like it? She will be charmed. He will come to England with the men of -the _Orlando_, who are to be replaced, and they can be married as soon -as she can get her trousseau together. We shall go to England much about -the same time as the Admiral, so that Mr. Harcourt will be on full pay -the whole time. I dare say it will be two or three months before he gets -another ship. Poor dear Sheila, she never dreamed of being married from -a castle, any more than I did of living in one after I was married.” - -“Or that I should give her away, as I suppose I shall have to do,” -rejoined her husband. “‘Giving agreeable girls away,’” he hummed—“I -shall feel like the Lord Chancellor in _Iolanthe_.” - -When this deep-laid plot was unfolded to Sheila, she entered into the -spirit of it with enthusiasm, expressing the deepest gratitude, as with -tears in her eyes, she thanked her tried friends for their thoughtful -kindness. “I _was_ rather down about being left alone here,” she -confessed. “It was all very well when I belonged to your party, but -being here by myself till the fleet returned, and fancying all sorts of -things in Mr. Harcourt’s absence, was different.” - -“The advantage is not altogether on your side, Sheila. You will be -company for me when my husband is away. We’re both Australians, you see, -and there are many things in common between us; old bush memories and -adventures, that an English friend, however nice she was, wouldn’t -understand. Really I feel quite cheered up, now I know you’re coming -with us.” - -“And what do _I_ feel?” cried Sheila—“but I won’t describe it.” Her -colour deepened, and her dark grey eyes glowed, as she stood up and -looked at her benefactress with passionate emotion in every line of her -expressive face. “Yes! I feel that I could die for you”—she clasped -Imogen’s hand as she spoke, and kissing it again and again, rushed from -the room. - -“Her Irish blood came out there,” said Blount; “how handsome the girl -has grown, and what a figure she has! She’ll rather astonish our -untravelled friends in England. You’re quite right, though, as to her -being a comfort to you in foreign parts, and you can talk about the -Upper Sturt, and dear old Marondah together, when you feel -low-spirited.” - -“Dear Marondah!” said Imogen, softly; “I wonder when we shall see the -old river again, and the willows, dipping their branches into its clear -waters.” - -“Oh! you mustn’t let yourself run down, that way. Bruce will be home -next summer, if bullocks keep up and the price of wool. Think how -they’ll enjoy coming to stay with us, and what shooting and hunting he -and I can have together. Sheila can hunt too. I’ll smoke a cigar in the -garden, and you’d better go to bed, my dear.” - - * * * * * - -But little more remains to be told concerning the fortunes of Imogen and -her husband, now Lord and Lady Fontenaye. They decided on a month’s -sojourn in Cairo, where they revelled in the mild climate, and the daily -marvels and miraculous sights and sounds—the enchanted Arabian Nights’ -surroundings, the veiled women, the Arab horses, the balconies, almost -touching across the narrow streets. The old-world presentment of the -East was inexpressibly fascinating to Imogen and Sheila, seen for the -first time. - -They “did” Egypt more or less thoroughly, as they planned not to reach -England before April—Imogen declaring that “the cold winds of March” -would lay her in an early grave. So they went up the Nile as far as -Philæ, filling their minds with such glories and marvels as might -suffice for the mental digestion of a lifetime. They rode and explored -to their hearts’ content, “Royal Thebes, Egyptian treasure-house of -boundless wealth, that boasts her hundred gates”; Luxor, with its -labyrinth of courts, and superb colonnades; Karnak, that darkens the -horizon with a world of portals, pyramids, and palaces. - -“Perhaps we may never see these wonders again,” said Imogen. “But I -shall revel in their memories as long as I live. What do you say, -Sheila?” - -“I feel as if I was just born,” said the excited damsel, “and was just -opening my eyes on a new world. Awakening in Heaven, if it’s not wrong -to say so, must be something like this.” - -“What a charming way of getting over the winter,” said Imogen. “One sees -so much of the world in the process, besides meeting people of mark and -distinction. Val tells me we may have a fortnight in Paris, for hats and -dresses, before arriving in dear old England some time in April, which -is a lovely month, if the spring is early. And this year they say it -is.” - -“‘Oh! to be in England, now that April’s here’,” quoted Lord Fontenaye, -who now joined the party; “we shall be comfortably settled in Fontenaye, -I hope, before the ‘merry month of May,’ when I shall have the honour of -showing you two ‘Cornstalks’ what a London season is like.” - -“Oh! and shall we able to ride in the Park?” quoth Sheila, with great -eagerness. “I do so long to see the wonderful English horses that one -hears so much about—the Four-in-hand and Coaching Clubs too! What a -sight it must be! I must have a horse worth looking at, price no -object—new saddle, and habit too. Oh! what fun it will be! And you’ll -give Mrs. Bl—I mean, her ladyship—a horse too, won’t you?” - -“You’re a true Australian, Sheila,” said he. “I believe you all care -more about horses, than anything else in the world. Now that the -‘Comstock’ is so encouraging in the way of dividends, I believe it will -run to a hundred-and-fifty-guinea hackney or two—with a new landau, a -brougham, and other suitable equipages.” - -These rose-coloured anticipations were duly realised. A wire was sent -from Paris, and the “wandering heir” was duly received and welcomed in -the halls of his ancestors. The time-honoured feasting of tenants and -“fêting” of the whole countryside was transacted—a comprehensive -programme having been arranged by the land steward, a man of great -experience and organising faculty. The younger son of the house, it was -explained, had always been the more popular one. And now that he had -“come to his own,” as the people said, their joy was unbounded. -Everything was done on a most liberal scale. Correspondents came down -“special” from the great London dailies, by whom full and particular -descriptions were sent through all Britain and her colonies, as well as -to the ends of the earth generally. - -The beauty and gracious demeanour of Lady Fontenaye, and her friend Miss -Sheila Maguire, an Australian heiress of fabulous wealth, were descanted -upon and set forth in glowing colours. Archives were ransacked for the -ancestors of all the Marmions, from the days of Flodden and those -earlier times when Robert de Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye in Normandy, -followed the Conqueror to England, and after Hastings obtained a grant -of the castle and town of Tamworth, and also the manor of Scrivelbaye, -in Lincolnshire. Harry Blount, Marmion’s attendant squire, was, -according to the custom of the day, a cadet of the house, and being -knighted with FitzEustace for gallantry at Flodden, attained to wealth -and distinction; eventually through marriage with one of the -co-heiresses of the house of Marmion, extinct in default of male heirs, -became possessed of the title and estates. Hence, Robert Valentine -Blount, the present Lord Fontenaye, has duly succeeded to the ancient -tower and town, amid appropriate festivities and rejoicings. We are not -aware that his Lordship presented a gold “chain of twelve mark weight” -to the pursuivants, or the gentlemen of the press, but that the -hospitality was thoughtful, delicate, and unbounded in liberality, no -one honoured by its exercise will deny; while the beauty and gracious -demeanour of the Lady of the Castle, so efficiently supported in her -duties by her friend, the handsome Australian heiress, Miss Maguire of -Tumut Park, lent additional lustre to the entertainment. - -There for a while we may leave them, in the enjoyment of youth, health, -and historic rank. If such gifts do not confer unclouded happiness, it -must be admitted that but few of the elements of which it is supposed to -be compounded were wanting. - -Some delay in Sheila’s marriage, however, took place. The _Orlando_, -after having been ordered to China, to the dismay of the captain, and at -least two of the senior officers, who had private reasons for not -desiring to explore the Flowery Land, either in peace or war, was as -suddenly recalled, and the cruiser _Candace_ ordered to take her place. -The _Orlando_ was paid off, and the _Royal Alfred_, with a new crew and -officers put into commission, and despatched to the Australian station -at short notice. A telegram from Fontenaye caused Commander Harcourt, -R.N., to betake himself to that vicinity at once. He had been promoted -to the rank of Commander for a dashing exploit in bringing off a boat’s -crew at Guadalcanar, in the teeth of tremendous odds, and a shower of -poisoned arrows. There was no need for delay now—Sheila had her -trousseau ready weeks before, and the Lieutenant—I beg his pardon, the -Captain—didn’t require much time to make _his_ preparations. - -So there was another entertainment at Fontenaye, of comparative -splendour and more true kindness and genuine friendship. All the -neighbouring gentry were bidden to the feast, as well as the brother -officers of the bridegroom. Lord Fontenaye gave away the bride, and made -a feeling speech at the breakfast. When Commander Harcourt, R.N., and -his lovely bride—for Sheila, in a “confection” from Paris, looked -beautiful exceedingly—walked down the aisle of the old Abbey church, a -girl of the period said “it put her in mind of Lord Marmion and Lady -Clare, only that Marmion was a soldier, and not a sailor, and (now that -she remembered) he turned out badly, didn’t marry Clare after all, was -killed, indeed, at Flodden, and ought to have married poor Clare, who -did not do so badly, nor Lord Wilton either, after recovering his lands, -his lady-love, and his position in society.” - -After this momentous function, Lord Fontenaye one fine morning looked up -from the _Times_, which, after the fashion of secure husbands, he read -during breakfast, with a sudden exclamation that caused Imogen to -inquire what it was about. - -“The death of Mrs. Delamere, poor thing! _That_ will make a difference.” - -“Difference to whom?” inquired Imogen. “Oh! I see—now, those two can get -married. Have you heard from them since they went to West Australia? -Yes, I know, you showed me her letter.” - -“I heard _of_ them later on, from a man I knew, that the Colonel had -bought into the ‘Golden Hoof,’ or some such name, and was likely to make -a big rise out of it, as he expressed it. What a turn of the wheel it -would be, wouldn’t it? He was ‘dry-blowing’ after they got to West -Australia.” - -“What in the world’s that?” - -“A primitive way of extracting gold from auriferous earth, partly by -sifting it, and then by blowing away the lighter dust particles, when -the gold, if there is any, remains behind. Then, their tent caught fire -one day, when she was away for an hour marketing (fancy Adeline buying -soap and candles at a digging!), and everything they had in the world -was burned, except what ‘they stood up in,’ as my informant phrased it.” - -“But you will send them something, poor things! How I pity them. Oh! how -stupid I am! You _did_—I know you.” - -“Yes! and she sent it back—a decent cheque too.” - -“Quite right—they couldn’t take it from you—_you_ of all men. What did -you do then?” - -“I ‘worked it,’ as ‘Tumbarumba Dick’ would say. He was one of the -partners in the Lady Julia claim. I sent Dick the cheque; told him to -get the diggers round about to form a relief committee, and to let them -subscribe their share, then spread mine out in small amounts among the -genuine ones. They couldn’t refuse the honest miners’ and their wives’ -assistance. No people are so generous in cases of accident or distress. -Thus my money ‘got there just the same,’ and helped to give the forlorn -ones a fresh start.” - -“Quite another romance—I suppose you have a slight _tendresse_ in that -direction still?” - -“Not more than a man always has for a woman he has once loved, however -badly she treated him; and that is a very mild, strictly rational -sentiment; but _you_ ought to have.” - -“Why, I should like to know?” - -“Because, of course, when she broke my heart, and sent me out into the -world drifting purposeless, I fell across one Imogen Carrisforth, who -towed the derelict into port—made prize of him, indeed, for ever and -ever.” - -“Well, I suppose she did shape our destiny, as you say—without the least -intending it; and now I suspect she’ll shape the Colonel’s for good and -all. They will be remarried quietly, live in the south of France, and -the gay world will hear no more of them.” - - * * * * * - * * * * * - -Fontenaye was always reasonably gay and truly hospitable; to the -Australian division notably. Not unduly splendid, but comfortably and -reasonably fine, on occasion. The nearest pack of hounds always met -there on the first day of the season, when sometimes Lady Fontenaye, -sometimes Mrs. Vernon Harcourt, appeared, superbly mounted and among the -front rankers, after the throw off. Sheila was a frequent guest in her -husband’s necessary absences at sea. Imogen was a little slow to -accustom herself to be addressed and referred to as “your ladyship” and -“her ladyship” at every turn, but took to it by degrees. - -“Now, what became of Kate Lawless and her brother Dick?” asks an eager -youthful patron of this veracious romance (not by any means wholly -untrue, dear reader, though a little mixed up). - -“And the roan pony mare ‘Wallaby’ that carried Kate ninety miles in a -day to warn the police about Trevenna,” screams a still younger student. -“You mustn’t leave _her_ out.” - -As might be expected, my dear boys, they came to a sad end. Dick and his -sister disappeared after the fight at “the Ghost Camp.” They were -rumoured to have been seen on the Georgina River, in the Gulf country. -There were warrants out for both, yet they had not been arrested. But -one day, word came to the police station at Monaro, that near a grave, -at a deserted hut between Omeo and the Running Creek, something was -wrong. The Sergeant, taking one trooper who drove a light waggonette, -rode to the spot. “This is where Mrs. Trevenna’s child was buried, the -little chap that was drowned,” said the trooper, “under that swamp oak. -I was stationed here then and went over. She _was_ wild, poor thing! I -wonder if that’s her lying across the grave.” - -It was even so. A haggard woman, poorly dressed, showing signs of -privation and far travel, lay face downward on the little mound. “Lift -her up, Jackson!” said the Sergeant; “poor thing! I’d hardly have known -her. She came _here_ to shoot herself, look about for the revolver. Just -on the temple, what a small hole it made! Shot the mare too! best thing -for both of ’em, I expect. So that’s the end of Kate Lawless! Who’d have -thought it, when that flash crowd was at Ballarat! Handsome girl she was -then, full of life and spirits too!” - -“She never did no good after the boy was drowned,” said the trooper. - -“No! nor before, either. But it wasn’t all _her_ fault. Let’s lift her -into the trap. She don’t weigh much. There’ll be the inquest, and she’ll -have Christian burial. They can’t prevent _that_ in this country. And -she’s suffered enough to make a dozen women shoot themselves, or men -either.” - -So the dead woman came into the little township, and after the coroner’s -jury had brought in their verdict that the deceased had died by her own -hand, but that there was no evidence to show her state of mind at the -time, poor Kate Trevenna (or Lawless) was buried among more or less -respectable people. - -There was a slight difference of opinion as to the identification of the -woman’s corpse, but none whatever as to that of the mare, among the -horse-loving bystanders around the grave, which was several times -visited during the following days. “That’s old Wallaby, safe enough,” -deposed one grizzled stockrider. “Reg’lar mountain mare, skip over them -rocks like a billy-goat; couldn’t throw her down no ways. Ain’t she -dog-poor, too? Kate and she’s had hard times lately. What say, boys, -s’pose we bury her? the ground’s middlin’ soft, and if she don’t ought -to be buried decent, no one does.” - -The idea caught on, and a pick and spade contingent driving out next -day, a grave was dug and a stone put up, on which was roughly chiselled— - - “WALLABY—died——” - - - THE END. - - - - - RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED, - LONDON AND BUNGAY. - - - - - MACMILLAN & CO.’S SIX-SHILLING NOVELS AUTUMN, 1902 - - CECILIA: - A Story of Modern Rome - - BY - F. Marion Crawford - - LAVINIA - - BY - Rhoda Broughton - - BAYARD’S COURIER - - BY - B. K. Benson - - JAN VAN ELSELO - - BY - Gilbert and Marion Coleridge - - ROGER DRAKE - - BY - H. K. Webster - - THE SPLENDID IDLE FORTIES - - BY - Gertrude Atherton - - THE GHOST CAMP - - BY - Rolf Boldrewood - - THE HIGHWAY OF FATE - - BY - Rosa N. Carey - - BY DULVERCOMBE WATER - - BY - Harold Vallings - - CHILDREN OF THE FROST - - BY - Jack London - - _NEW BOOK BY RUDYARD KIPLING_ - - Just So Stories for Little Children - - To be published in a Quarto Volume with - Illustrations by the Author - - - GERTRUDE ATHERTON - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - The Conqueror - - Being - The True and Romantic Story - of Alexander Hamilton - - By Gertrude Atherton - - Author of - - “Senator North,” “The Aristocrats,” &c. - -_THE SPECTATOR._—“Brilliant and eloquent.” - -_MORNING POST._—“Has an extraordinary interest as a loving presentment -of a most extraordinary personage.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“In a series of brilliant chapters, Mrs. Atherton -enables us to see how, mixed with the rare and original essence of -Hamilton’s character, there were ordinary human elements which, though -they interfered in some measure with his success, only made him the more -lovable.... His career forms so rounded and complete a narrative, -revealing throughout one prevailing character, that it lends itself to -the author’s purposes of a ‘dramatic biography’ better, perhaps, than -any other that could be selected.” - -_GLASGOW HERALD._—“An entrancing book.” - - - CHARLES MAJOR - - Author of - - “When Knighthood - was in Flower.” - - [400th Thousand] - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - Dorothy Vernon - of Haddon Hall - - By Charles Major - -_WORLD._—“Mr. Charles Major’s picture of the wilful, impetuous girl, -whose name has come down to us from the days of Good Queen Bess, is -vigorous and effective.” - -_MORNING POST._—“It is but a small percentage of works of fiction that -one can read from start to finish without weariness. But few will take -up Mr. Charles Major’s ‘Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall’ and not read it -with growing pleasure.... Dorothy Vernon is a glorious creature, and the -author is entitled to full praise for a singularly vivid and passionate -portrait of a beautiful and passionate woman.... All readers of this -book about her must needs follow John Manners’s example, and fall madly -in love with her as well.... A book that will be thoroughly enjoyed in -the reading. One wishes there were more of the same.” - -_DAILY MAIL._—“Mr. Major writes with dash and spirit.” - -_SCOTSMAN._—“Will appeal to all lovers of romance.” - - - RUDYARD KIPLING - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - Kim - - By - - Rudyard Kipling - -_TIMES._—“Treated with Mr. Kipling’s amazing knowledge, insight, and -sureness of touch.” - -_MORNING POST._—“‘Kim’ is undoubtedly the finest Indian story that the -author of ‘The Man who would be King,’ and a hundred other tales, has -yet written.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“Mr. Kipling’s varied and complex powers are seen -at their strongest and best.... ‘Kim’ is the creation of a great and -true artist.” - -_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE._—“Full, rich, and animated in every detail ... -informed as before with a masterly intuition of Eastern modes of -thought.” - -_GUARDIAN._—“A series of wonderful kaleidoscopic pictures, ever shifting -and changing.... May Mr. Kipling soon give us more of this kind.” - -_DAILY NEWS._—“A wonderful procession of picturesque and interesting -figures pass through the pages of the book.” - -_STANDARD._—“By far the most successful piece of work Mr. Kipling has -done for some time past.” - -_ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE._—“It is beyond question the finest picture of -Indian life which Mr. Kipling has yet made; it is the finest picture -that has been made by any writer.” - -_GLOBE._—“The pictures of persons and places in ‘Kim’ are among the best -things that Mr. Kipling has done.” - - - OWEN WISTER - - Author of - - “Red Man and White,” - - “Lin McLean,” &c. - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - The Virginian - - A Horseman of the Plains - -Mr. W. L. COURTNEY in the _DAILY TELEGRAPH_.—“‘The Virginian’ represents -the best work of a writer not only of uncommon virility, but possessed -also of a stage-craft, and of a literary manner which are in their way -quite admirable.... The best of Mr. Wister’s novel is that this hero of -his, ‘The Virginian,’ is actually so real and vital, so throbbing with -the red blood in his veins, that we should recognise him if we ever had -the good fortune to meet him.... In Mr. Owen Wister’s book the scenery, -the incidents, the graphic and absorbing narrative, the sense of -atmosphere, are without exception on a high and spirited plane. -Quotations are useless in a book like this. It is written all in one -piece; it has a central unity of its own, and from such a whole you -cannot detach parts. It is, in truth, a remarkable piece of work, quite -as good, in its way, as Mr. Churchill’s ‘The Crisis,’ and quite as well -worth reading.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“One of the best novels that have appeared for some -time, and we advise everyone who is in need of a novel of incident and -freshness to buy, borrow, or steal ‘The Virginian.’” - -_ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE._—“A rattling good story.” - -_DAILY GRAPHIC._—“A very fine novel.” - - - S. R. CROCKETT - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - The Dark o’ the Moon - - Being - - Certain further Histories - - of the - - Folk called “Raiders” - -_SPECTATOR._—“Mr. Crockett’s admirers will find plenty of his -characteristic matter and manner to mystify and amuse them in ‘The Dark -o’ the Moon.’” - -_TIMES._—“A rousing story, with plenty of love and fighting.... The -story is told with unflagging spirit.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“The story is good Crockett from first to last, -exactly what the author’s many admirers will expect.” - -_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE._—“A rousing book in the novelist’s earlier manner, -full of stir and picturesque movement. With a plot that is interesting -and developed with skill.... It is in every way satisfactory to find Mr. -Crockett on his native heath once more.” - -_GLOBE._—“Should have a wide vogue and much appreciation.” - -_WORLD._—“A stirring tale.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE._—“A romance, swift and compact, and told with spirit.” - - - S. R. CROCKETT - -“We should class this book as among the best of its author’s recent -works.” - - —_Athenæum._ - - Crown 8 vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - The Firebrand - - By - - S. R. Crockett - -_ATHENÆUM._—“We should class this book as among the best of its author’s -recent works.” - -_LITERATURE._—“A bustling novel.... Something is always happening in Mr. -Crockett’s books—generally something ingenious and unexpected. Not many -writers can spin the web of a story better.” - -_WORLD._—“The story of the ‘firebrand,’ Rollo Blair, a Scottish -gentleman-adventurer, and his two incongruous associates, of the Abbot -of Montblanch, the kidnapping of the Queen, the outlawry of Ramon -Garcia, the outwitting of Cabrera by Rollo, and the doings of the -gipsies, is decidedly good.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“A full-blooded tale of adventure.” - -_DAILY NEWS._—“The story is a good one.... Will be read with interest -and pleasure.” - -_GLOBE._—“Mr. Crockett is a born story-teller; he has the knack of -spirited and sentimental narration. In ‘The Firebrand’ he runs to the -length of 519 pages, and none of his admirers would desire that they -should be fewer.” - - - MARION CRAWFORD - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - Marietta: a Maid of Venice - -_THE TIMES._—“A good story, as is usual with Mr. Crawford. Custom does -not stale him; ‘the tea is not weak,’ as an experienced novelist -admitted was the case with his own productions.” - -_PUNCH._—“Marion Crawford is at his very best in ‘Marietta: A Maid of -Venice.’ It is a powerfully dramatic story of Venice under ‘The Ten,’ -told in a series of picturesque scenes described in strikingly artistic -word-painting, the action being carried on by well-imagined, clearly -defined characters. Perfect is the description of Venice, and of the -hour of _Ave Maria_. Hero and heroine are skilfully drawn types; while -the quaint old salt Pasquale, retired from active naval service and now -gate-porter to Beroviero, the celebrated glass-blower, is drawn with the -keenest sense of humour.” - -_THE ATHENÆUM._—“Here is a story of Italy, and Italy in full -Renaissance, which offends neither by sentimental maundering, nor by -affected diction, nor by leering ‘naturalism’—not a hint of ‘the erotic, -the neurotic, or the tommy-rotic’—just a healthy, straightforward -romance of the old school, with plenty of adventure, and ending as it -should, told in good English without any straining after phrases.” - -_THE SKETCH._—“No one who has ever visited Venice and come under its -spell, can afford to miss ‘Marietta.’” - -_THE DAILY MAIL._—“The reviewer too rarely comes across so charming a -tale as Mr. F. Marion Crawford’s ‘Marietta: A Maid of Venice.’” - -_THE MORNING POST._—“‘Marietta’ is one of the more daintily charming of -Mr. Crawford’s stories, and deserves the recognition it will undoubtedly -receive.” - - - “ELIZABETH” - -“Triumphantly successful.” - - —Mr. W. L. COURTNEY. - -“Delightful from beginning to end.” - - —_The Standard._ - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - The Benefactress - - By the Author of - - “Elizabeth and her German Garden” - -_THE SPECTATOR._—“If ‘Elizabeth’s’ satire is somewhat cruel, it is in -the main justified by the situation and the results. For the moral of -the story is as sound as the wit is mordant. ‘The Benefactress,’ in a -word, combines the rare qualities of being at once wholesome, agreeably -malicious, and in full accord with the principles of the Charity -Organisation Society.” - -Mr. W. L. COURTNEY in the _DAILY TELEGRAPH_.—“It is difficult to -describe by any single epithet the peculiar charm which surrounds the -work of the authoress of ‘Elizabeth and her German Garden.’... Quiet, -tender, incisive, humorous.... Triumphantly successful.” - -_LITERATURE._—“Fully equal to ‘Elizabeth and her German Garden.’... -Maintains its interest throughout, and is full of well drawn -characters.” - -_STANDARD._—“Delightful from beginning to end. It is wholesome, full of -charm and joyousness.” - -_WORLD._—“The writer holds the reader, not to lose her hold while a line -of the book remains to be read and read again. Every character is a -living individuality, and every incident is a necessity.” - -_MORNING POST._—“An excellent piece of work.... The most amusing reading -which has come our way for some time.” - -_DAILY NEWS._—“One of the most attractive novels we have read for a long -time.” - - - EGERTON CASTLE - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - The Secret Orchard - - By - - Egerton Castle - -_GLOBE._—“The story, as a whole, is eminently effective, eminently -readable, and can be recommended cordially to all and sundry.” - -_WORLD._—“The persons are all well drawn, and the interest is great.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“A very clever and a very good book.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE._—“We expected much.... ‘The Secret Orchard’ does more -than rise to our expectations.... We follow the rapid development of the -tragedy with a sympathetic interest which never flags.” - -_DAILY MAIL._—“A novel of signal distinction and beauty.” - -_ACADEMY._—“The style and manner of telling the story is of the easy -luminous character that we associate with the authors of ‘The Bath -Comedy.’” - -_MORNING POST._—“There can be no doubt of the dramatic force with which -it is told or of the interest it inspires.” - -_THE TIMES._—“A finished piece of work.” - - - A. C. FARQUHARSON - -“The story is absorbing.” - - —_The Athenæum._ - -“Altogether worth reading.” - - —_The Westminster Gazette._ - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - St. Nazarius - - By - - A. C. Farquharson - -_ATHENÆUM._—“It is a rare pleasure to find a book which is satisfactory -in almost all respects. ‘St. Nazarius’ is such a book. The story is -absorbing; its treatment is admirable, especially in restraint; and the -tone is one of unusual distinction.... The deep thought of the book, its -essential sanity, its presentation of a high religious ideal, interest -us in the work of the author.” - -_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE._—“A novel out of the common.... Altogether worth -reading.” - -_ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE._—“Should give delight to many readers who do not -as a rule trouble themselves to cut the leaves of ordinary novels. The -writer has dared to probe the depths and to scale the heights.... The -story is clothed in language perfectly suited to its mysterious charm.” - -_OUTLOOK._—“Mr. Farquharson has grip, and his story is well worked out.” - -_SCOTSMAN._—“A striking story and one in which the reader’s interest and -admiration strengthen, from a somewhat formal opening, to an end which -is unconventionally fine and sad.” - - - STEPHEN GWYNN - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - The Old Knowledge - - By - - Stephen Gwynn - -_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE._—“It is long since it has been our good fortune to -meet with a novel so fresh, breezy, and altogether charming.” - -_SUNDAY SUN._—“A good book, very far above the customary novel of the -day in all important matters. It has charm of manner, a delicate and -indefinable melancholy—the inalienable melancholy of the Irish—and also -a very welcome touch of Irish humour.... It introduces us to several -very charming people.” - -_DAILY EXPRESS._—“A very pretty story, wholesome and refreshing, with -the sweet air of Donegal.... The humour, the prettiness, and the trouble -of the story are all perfect in their lightness and harmony. Mr. Gwynn -is among the most graceful and pleasant of Irish writers.” - -_THE SPECTATOR._—“It is admirably written: it has an interesting theme, -and its development in plot and characterisation ... is in faithful -correspondence with the facts of life. In a word, the book is both -charming and convincing.” - - - NANCY H. BANKS - - A Kentucky Tale - - of the - - Last Century. - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - Oldfield - - A Kentucky Tale of the - - Last Century - - By - - Nancy Huston Banks - -_MORNING POST._—“Has all the charm which we have come to expect from -American stories which describe the lives of simple people in remote -parts of that vast continent.... A book to read and to enjoy.” - -_SPECTATOR._—“‘Oldfield’ is a Kentucky ‘Cranford’—with a difference. The -difference is that the setting of outside things in which Miss Banks -puts her human figures is much more vivid than what we find in Mrs. -Gaskell’s story.” - -_SCOTSMAN._—“At once picturesque, pathetic, and removed from the -ordinary lines of modern fiction.... The incidents of the romance are -fresh, healthy, and invigorating. The characters are strongly and -clearly defined.... Is bid heartily welcome.” - - - UNA L. SILBERRAD - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - Princess Puck - - By - - Una L. Silberrad - -_THE PILOT._—“It is unspeakably refreshing to come upon a book so -bubbling over with life and love and character and humour as ‘Princess -Puck’ that to notice it forthwith is an imperative duty and pleasure. -This is a novel to read once so that you may find out how good it is, -and then straightway over again because it is so good that you must -enjoy it more leisurely.” - -_THE SPECTATOR._—“Miss Silberrad’s exceedingly clever, fresh, and -wholesome story.... _Bill_ Alardy is a delightful creation: she bubbles -over with life and goodwill, humour, energy, and affection; and -everything she touches turns to romance.” - -_THE ACADEMY._—“The whole story is in the aggregate so pleasing and -entertaining that we have little inclination to pick holes. Let it go as -fresh and recommendable.” - -_PUNCH._—“... the exceeding charm of the creation of _Wilhelmina -Alardy_, commonly known as _Bill_. In her freshness, her -unconventionality, her keen insight, and her honesty, _Bill_ is -delightful.” - -_THE DAILY CHRONICLE._—“Miss Silberrad’s book deserves a high place in -the fiction of the moment. The story is interesting and rattles along to -the end without a pause; there is originality in the construction of the -plot, and perception as well in the way the characters are conceived and -presented. _Bill_ herself is a charming conception.... Altogether, -‘Princess Puck’ is a book to be read, and to be read with -discrimination.” - - - MERWIN & WEBSTER - -“Most remarkable story.” - - —_Daily Mail._ - -“An interesting and amusing book.” - - —_Scotsman._ - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - “Calumet ‘K’” - - By S. Merwin and H. K. Webster - -“Calumet ‘K’” is a two-million-bushel grain-elevator, and this story -tells how Charlie Bannon built it “against time.” The elevator must be -done by December 31. There are persons that are interested in delaying -the work, and it is these, as well as the “walking delegates,” that -Bannon has to fight. The story of how they tried to “tie up” the lumber -two hundred miles away, and of how he outwitted them and just “carried -it off,” shows the kind of thing that Bannon can do best. - -_DAILY MAIL._—“Most remarkable story.... The story makes an epic—the -epic of a sleepless, tireless man who can never be beaten. Every young -man who is to-day starting out on the business of life should read it.” - -_SUNDAY SPECIAL._—“No romance of the Middle Ages surpasses this story in -stirring interest, virility, and strength. It is a moving picture of the -resistless American of to-day, and, as such, is worth a hundred average -novels.” - -_SCOTSMAN._—“It is an interesting and amusing book, and once taken up -will be read to a finish.” - -_SPECTATOR._—“The story will delight readers who combine mechanical -taste with the spirit of practical enterprise.” - - - EVELYN SHARP - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - The Youngest Girl - - in the School - - By Evelyn Sharp - -_THE ATHENÆUM._—“Told with much humour.” - -_THE ACADEMY._—“A most amusing story.” - -_LITERATURE._—“A vivid picture of a girl’s school.” - -_THE PILOT._—“... its raciness and humour.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“Extremely diverting to the average man.” - -_THE GRAPHIC._—“Very fresh and natural.” - -_THE SPECTATOR._—“Shows a wholesome and humorous grasp of life.” - -_THE DAILY CHRONICLE._—“Miss Evelyn Sharp has scored a brilliant success -in a _genre_ where success has been attained by few. Schoolgirls have -suffered rather more than schoolboys at the hands of writers of fiction. -Miss Sharp possesses an endowment of humour, rich, sensitive, radiant, -that pervades her book like a joyous elemental spirit. And with this -frolic spirit, ever alive to the humorous aspects of life, the subtlest -apprehension is revealed of the psychical depths beneath the exuberant -manifestations of healthy aspiring youth.” - - - E. F. POYNTER - - Author of - - “An Exquisite Fool,” - - “Every Day’s News,” - - etc. - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - Michael Ferrier - - By - - E. Frances Poynter - -=Michael Ferrier= is the story of a young poet who loves and is loved by -a beautiful girl, Helen Umfraville. In a moment of frenzy he kills, half -by accident, the man who attempts to stand between them. The death -passes for either accident or suicide, and no suspicion is aroused; but -the girl sees her lover’s trouble, questions him, and the turning point -of the book is the scene when he confesses to her his act, and she takes -the decision that seems to her right in consequence. - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“There are so many real tragedies in life, and so few -convincing ones in fiction, that the perusal of Miss E. Frances -Poynter’s little study is likely to make a deep impression on the -reader. For here is real tragedy.... In her characterisation the -authoress is most happy.... Miss Poynter possesses keen psychological -insight and a not unkindly satire when she pleases, as well as the power -to depict pathos and suffering, with the pen of the artist.” - -_PUNCH._—“Miss Frances Poynter, though not a new novelist, is a fresh -acquaintance of my Baronite’s. If her earlier works are as good as -‘Michael Ferrier,’ they are worth looking up.” - - - S. WEIR MITCHELL - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - Circumstance - - By - - Dr. S. Weir Mitchell - -“Circumstance” is a study of life in Philadelphia, rather curious as -showing the exclusiveness of American Society. It is also a study of an -adventuress. The point of the title lies in the varying resistance of -character to external events, and the striking influence on inferior -character of accidents, such as that which almost made Mrs. Hunter a -murderess, or that which enabled her to attain her end without resorting -to so disagreeable a step or sacrificing any of her complacency. - -_THE PILOT._—“Carried out with admirable effect.” - -_THE OUTLOOK._—“Contains an extremely able study of senile decay and one -of the most sagacious portraits of a pretty coquette ... which we have -ever seen.” - -_THE STANDARD._—“The book is very clever.” - - - ROSA N. CAREY - -“Well conceived and well sustained.” - - —_The World._ - -“Highly interesting.” - - —_Morning Post._ - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - Herb of Grace - - By Rosa N. Carey - -_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE._—“A clever delineator of character, possessed of a -reserve of strength in a quiet, easy, flowing style, Miss Carey never -fails to please a large class of readers. ‘Herb of Grace’ is no -exception to the rule....” - -_DAILY GRAPHIC._—“An entirely pleasant and wholesome story.” - -_GLOBE._—“Told in the writer’s best and most popular manner.” - -_MORNING POST._—“Highly interesting.” - -_ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE._—“Very pleasant reading, and full of quiet charm. -There is much skilful portrayal of character.” - -_WORLD._—“The story is well conceived and well sustained.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE._—“In every respect a worthy successor to ‘Rue with a -Difference.’” - -_MANCHESTER GUARDIAN._—“On the picture of the two sisters living so -happily together, Miss Carey has expended some of her most careful and -successful work.” - - - MAURICE HEWLETT - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - Richard Yea-and-Nay - - By Maurice Hewlett - -Mr. FREDERIC HARRISON in _THE FORTNIGHTLY REVIEW_.—“Such historic -imagination, such glowing colour, such crashing speed, set forth in such -pregnant form carry me away spell-bound.... ‘Richard Yea-and-Nay’ is a -fine and original romance.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“The story carries us along as though throughout we -were galloping on strong horses. There is a rush and fervour about it -all which sweeps us off our feet till the end is reached and the tale is -done. It is very clever, very spirited.” - -_DAILY NEWS._—“A memorable book, over-long, over-charged with scenes of -violence, yet so informed with the atmosphere of a tumultuous time, -written with a pen so vital and picturesque, that it is the reader’s -loss to skip a page.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE._—“We have to thank Mr. Hewlett for a most beautiful -and fascinating picture of a glorious time.... We know of no other -writer to-day who could have done it.” - - - MAURICE HEWLETT - - Fifty-third Thousand - - in - - England and America - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top - - Price 6s. - - The Forest Lovers - - A Romance - -_SPECTATOR._—“‘The Forest Lovers’ is no mere literary _tour de force_, -but an uncommonly attractive romance, the charm of which is greatly -enhanced by the author’s excellent style.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“Mr. Maurice Hewlett’s ‘The Forest Lovers’ stands out -with conspicuous success.... There are few books of this season which -achieve their aim so simply and whole-heartedly as Mr. Hewlett’s -ingenious and enthralling romance.” - -_ACADEMY._—“This is a remarkable book.... ‘The Forest Lovers’ has been a -fresh sensation. Mr. Hewlett can write! What a sense of colour, of -contrast; what vigour, what rapid movement!” - -_THE GUARDIAN._—“Quaint and delightful.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE._—“Here is a romance of the glamorous mediæval time, -done just as such a thing should be done.... It is a book to be read. -Not to be read at a sitting, but to be read slowly, when one is in the -mood.” - -_ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS._—“It is not easy to describe the charm of Mr. -Hewlett’s romance.... ‘The Forest Lovers’ is a distinct acquisition to -the true literature of romance.” - - - JAMES LANE ALLEN - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - The Increasing - - Purpose - - =130,000= _copies have been sold in England and America_. - -_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE._—“Such a book as this is a rare event, and as -refreshing as it is rare. This book ... is a beautiful one—beautiful -alike in thought, tone, and language.” - -_LITERATURE._—“We may safely assert that it will achieve a large -success, and achieve it on its merits.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE._—“We like this book. It stands apart from the ordinary -novel. It tells the story of the growth of a soul.... A great charm of -the book is its pictures of outdoor life on a Kentucky farm.... But the -greatest charm of all, perhaps, is Mr. Allen’s clear-cut, simple, and -vigorous style.” - -_SPECTATOR._—“Written with all the delicacy and distinction which have -already won him so many admirers.” - -_WORLD._—“Lays upon the reader a grip from which there is no escape.” - -_DAILY GRAPHIC._—“The character of David, the first figure in the book, -is finely drawn.... The book is well worth reading.” - -_ACADEMY._—“Full of racial warmth and freshest human nature.... Life is -intense, richly coloured, and splendidly aspirant in these pages; yet -the eternal note of sadness is brought in.” - - - JAMES LANE ALLEN - - Fcap. 8vo. Gilt top. =6s.= - - 223rd Thousand. - - The Choir Invisible - -_ACADEMY._—“A book to read and a book to keep after reading. Mr. Allen’s -gifts are many—a style pellucid and picturesque, a vivid and disciplined -power of characterisation, and an intimate knowledge of a striking epoch -and an alluring country. ‘The Choir Invisible’ is a fine achievement.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“Mr. Allen’s power of character drawing invests the -old, old story with renewed and absorbing interest.... The fascination -of the story lies in great part in Mr. Allen’s graceful and vivid -style.” - - Globe 8vo. Price =3s. 6d.= each. - - A Kentucky Cardinal - Aftermath - - Being Part II. of “A Kentucky Cardinal.” - - Summer in Arcady - - A Tale of Nature - - - Crown 8vo. Price =6s.= each. - - A Kentucky Cardinal and - Aftermath - - In one vol. Illus. by HUGH THOMSON. - - Flute and Violin - - And other Kentucky Tales and - Romances. - - The Blue-Grass Region of - Kentucky - - And other Kentucky Articles. - -_OUTLOOK._—“His work has purity, delicacy, and unfailing charm. He gives -you matter for laughter, matter for tears, and matter to think upon, -with a very fine hand.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“Mr. Allen has attained to an enviable position; it -is his to interpret his native country to the world, and it is not easy -to imagine a better interpreter. These four volumes are worthy of the -author of ‘The Choir Invisible.’” - - - WINSTON CHURCHILL - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - The Crisis - - [290th Thousand] - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“‘The Crisis’ is a story of the American Civil War, a -theme as inspiring to the American writer of genius as the English Civil -War has proved to some of our best romancers. But, so far as we are -aware, there has hitherto been no novel on that subject produced in -America to equal either the ‘Woodstock’ of Sir Walter Scott or -Whyte-Melville’s ‘Holmby House.’ That reproach is at length removed by -Mr. Churchill, and ‘The Crisis’ will bear comparison with either of -these justly famous books.” - -_LITERATURE._—“As well executed a novel as we have come across for many -a long day.” - -_SPECTATOR._—“An exceedingly spirited, interesting, and right minded -romance of the Civil War.” - -_GUARDIAN._—“‘The Crisis’ is a remarkable book.... It is a grand book.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“A singularly fascinating and, in many respects, an -important and valuable book.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE._—“Well as Mr. Churchill did with some of his -characters in ‘Richard Carvel,’ he has done still better in this story -with some of their descendants.” - -_ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE._—“It is a sound book, well put together and well -written.” - -_PILOT._—“A worthy pendant to his brilliant romance ‘Richard Carvel.’” - -_ATHENÆUM._—“A bright, vividly written book, which holds the reader’s -interest.” - -_DAILY NEWS._—“We congratulate Mr. Churchill. ‘The Crisis’ is a warm, -inspiriting book.” - - - WINSTON CHURCHILL - -One of the most striking successes in recent fiction. - - Crown 8vo. Gilt top - - Price 6s. - - Richard Carvel - -_GUARDIAN._—“The book is one we can warmly recommend to readers who like -to have their historical memories freshened by fiction.” - -_LITERATURE._—“Has a full and stirring plot.... A piece of work -creditable both to his industry and his imagination.” - -_THE SPEAKER._—“We have not read a better book for many a day than -‘Richard Carvel.’” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“Full of good things. The narrative excels in -incidents, interesting, vivid, and picturesque....” - - Price 6s. - - The Celebrity: - - An Episode - - [59th Thousand] - -_ATHENÆUM._—“Distinctly good reading. It is witty and devoid of offence -to the most sensitive disposition.... Can be recommended to old and -young alike.” - -_CHICAGO TRIBUNE._—“An exceptionally pleasing novel.” - -_NEW YORK INDEPENDENT._—“Fresh, dashing, and entertaining from beginning -to end.” - - - ROLF BOLDREWOOD - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - In Bad Company - - and other Stories - - By - - Rolf Boldrewood - -A collection of Australian stories and sketches. The longest, which -gives its title to the volume, turns on the wickedness of a -trades-unionist agitator among the shearers and the violent -accompaniments of an Australian strike. Others describe bushrangers, -rough-riding contests, kangaroo shoots, lapsed gentlefolk, and, of -course, a drought. - -_THE OUTLOOK._—“Very good reading.” - -_DAILY NEWS._—“It is the best work this popular author has done for some -time.” - -_DAILY GRAPHIC._—“Both the quantity and quality of the stories are first -rate.” - -_DUNDEE ADVERTISER._—“There are many charming pictures in words of -Australia and her people, free from conventional phraseology, to be -found in these pages, and the book forms a fit companion to such capital -volumes as ‘Robbery Under Arms’ and ‘The Miner’s Right,’ which made Mr. -Boldrewood’s name.” - -_COURT CIRCULAR._—“A breezy, bracing, healthy book.” - - - ROLF BOLDREWOOD - - _POPULAR EDITION OF THE - NOVELS IN UNIFORM BINDING_ - - Crown 8vo. - - Price 3s. 6d. each - - Robbery Under Arms - The Miner’s Right - The Squatter’s Dream - A Sydney-side Saxon - A Colonial Reformer - Nevermore - A Modern Buccaneer - The Sealskin Cloak - Plain Living - The Crooked Stick - My Run Home - Old Melbourne Memories - Romance of Canvas Town - War to the Knife - Babes in the Bush - - Globe 8vo. =2s.= - - The Sphinx of Eaglehawk - - - F. MONTGOMERY - -[Illustration: author portrait] - - Price 6s. - - Prejudged - - By - - Florence Montgomery - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“An ingenious tale, and pleasing, by reason of the -fresh wholesomeness of the characters and atmosphere—a trait hard to -discover in many contemporary novels.” - -_TRUTH._—“The author of ‘Misunderstood’ keeps up her deservedly high -reputation by her very pretty story ‘Prejudged.’” - -_LITERARY WORLD._—“The story is simple and charming.” - -_MANCHESTER COURIER._—“A study of character which is sincere and -convincing, and a story which from cover to cover is well written.” - -_THE SPECTATOR._—“Miss Montgomery’s graceful story.” - -_ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE._—“Well told and amusing.” - -_SCOTSMAN._—“Worthy of the reputation made by ‘Misunderstood.’” - -_THE OUTLOOK._—“She sketches her characters in both prettily and -wittily.” - - - F. MONTGOMERY - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top. =6s.= - - Misunderstood - -_Diary of Dr. WILBERFORCE, Bishop of Winchester._—“Read ‘Misunderstood,’ -very touching and truthful.” - -_VANITY FAIR._—“This volume gives us what of all things is the most rare -to find in contemporary literature—a true picture of child-life.” - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top. =6s.= - - Seaforth - -_WORLD._—“In the marvellous world of the pathetic conceptions of Dickens -there is nothing more exquisitely touching than the loving, -love-seeking, unloved child, Florence Dombey. We pay Miss Montgomery the -highest compliment within our reach when we say that in ‘Seaforth’ she -frequently suggests comparisons with what is at least one of the -masterpieces of the greatest master of tenderness and humour which -nineteenth-century fiction has known. ‘Seaforth’ is a novel full of -beauty, feeling, and interest.” - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top. =6s.= - - Thrown Together - -_VANITY FAIR._—“This charming story cannot fail to please.” - -_WASHINGTON DAILY CHRONICLE._—“A delightful story. There is a thread of -gold in it upon which are strung many lovely sentiments.” - - Crown 8vo. Gilt Top. =6s.= - - _Second Edition._ - - Transformed; or, Three Weeks - in a Lifetime - - - Pott 8vo. =2s.= - - Tony: A Sketch - - - 3 Vols. Crown 8vo. =18s.= - - Colonel Norton - - - RUDYARD KIPLING - - _UNIFORM EDITION_ - - _Extra Crown 8vo._ _Scarlet Cloth_ - - _Gilt Tops._ =6s.= _each_ - - 60th Thousand - - Kim - - Illustrated by J. L. KIPLING - - 33rd Thousand - - Stalky & Co. - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“If ‘Stalky & Co.’ does not become as classic as -the greatest favourites among Mr. Kipling’s previous volumes of stories, -write us down false prophets. He has never written with more rapturously -swinging zest, or bubbled over with more rollicking fun.” - - 57th Thousand - - The Day’s Work - -_MORNING POST._—“The book is so varied, so full of colour and life from -end to end, that few who read the first two or three stories will lay it -down till they have read the last.” - - 48th Thousand - - Plain Tales from the Hills - -_SATURDAY REVIEW._—“Mr. Kipling knows and appreciates the English in -India, and is a born story-teller and a man of humour into the -bargain.... It would be hard to find better reading.” - - 39th Thousand - - Life’s Handicap - - Being Stories of Mine Own People. - -_BLACK AND WHITE._—“‘Life’s Handicap’ contains much of the best work -hitherto accomplished by the author, and, taken as a whole, is a -complete advance upon its predecessors.” - - 36th Thousand - - Many Inventions - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE._—“The completest book that Mr. Kipling has yet given -us in workmanship, the weightiest and most humane in breadth of view.... -It can only be regarded as a fresh landmark in the progression of his -genius.” - - 41st Thousand - - The Light that Failed - - Re-written and considerably enlarged. - -_ACADEMY._—“Whatever else be true of Mr. Kipling, it is the first truth -about him that he has power, real intrinsic power.... Mr. Kipling’s work -has innumerable good qualities.” - - 17th Thousand - - Wee Willie Winkie - - and other Stories - - - RUDYARD KIPLING - - _UNIFORM EDITION_ =6s.= _each_. - - 20th Thousand - - Soldiers Three - - and other Stories - -_GLOBE._—“Containing some of the best of his highly vivid work.” - - 55th Thousand - - The Jungle Book - -With Illustrations by J. L. KIPLING and W. H. DRAKE. - -_PUNCH._—“‘Æsop’s Fables and dear old Brer Fox and Co.,’ observes the -Baron sagely, ‘may have suggested to the fanciful genius of Rudyard -Kipling the delightful idea, carried out in the most fascinating style, -of ‘The Jungle Book.’” - - 38th Thousand - - The Second Jungle Book - -With Illustrations by J. LOCKWOOD KIPLING. - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“The appearance of ‘The Second Jungle Book’ is a -literary event of which no one will mistake the importance. Unlike most -sequels, the various stories comprised in the new volume are at least -equal to their predecessors.” - - 27th Thousand - - “Captains Courageous” - -A Story of the Grand Banks. Illustrated by I. W. TABER. - -_ATHENÆUM._—“Never in English prose has the sea in all its myriad -aspects, with all its sounds and sights and odours, been reproduced with -such subtle skill as in these pages.” - - 14th Thousand - - From Sea to Sea - - Letters of Travel. In Two Vols. - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH._—“‘From Sea to Sea’ is delightful reading throughout. -‘Good things’ sparkle in its every page, and inimitable descriptive -matter abounds.... A charming book.” - - The Naulahka - - A Story of West and East. - - BY - - RUDYARD KIPLING - - AND - - WOLCOTT BALESTIER - - - RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BUNGAY. 20.9.02. - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes - - -Some presumed printer’s errors have been corrected, including -normalizing punctuation. Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation has been -left as printed unless specifically noted below. Further corrections are -listed below. - - p. 28 refection -> reflection - p. 98 make’s -> makes - p. 166 its claims -> it claims - p. 370 Jack Clark -> Jack Clarke - p. 393 Fontenay -> Fontenaye - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ghost Camp, by Rolf Boldrewood - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GHOST CAMP *** - -***** This file should be named 51011-0.txt or 51011-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/0/1/51011/ - -Produced by MWS, Sonya Schermann and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -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. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -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/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/51011-0.zip b/old/51011-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6402d1c..0000000 --- a/old/51011-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h.zip b/old/51011-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ff044c7..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/51011-h.htm b/old/51011-h/51011-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 66f4d80..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/51011-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17072 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> - <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of THE GHOST CAMP OR THE AVENGERS</title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } - h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.4em; } - h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; } - .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver; - text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute; - border: thin solid silver; padding: .1em .2em; font-style: normal; - font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; } - p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; } - .sc { font-variant: small-caps; } - .large { font-size: large; } - .xlarge { font-size: x-large; } - .lg-container-b { text-align: center; } - @media handheld { .lg-container-b { clear: both; }} - .lg-container-r { text-align: right; } - @media handheld { .lg-container-r { clear: both; }} - .linegroup { display: inline-block; text-align: left; } - @media handheld { .linegroup { display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; }} - .linegroup .group { margin: 1em auto; } - .linegroup .line { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; } - div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 0; } - .linegroup .in2 { padding-left: 4.0em; } - .linegroup .in4 { padding-left: 5.0em; } - .linegroup .in5 { padding-left: 5.5em; } - .linegroup .in6 { padding-left: 6.0em; } - .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always;} - .figcenter { clear: both; max-width: 100%; margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; } - .figcenter img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; } - .id001 { width:191px; } - .id002 { width:217px; } - .id003 { width:209px; } - .id004 { width:206px; } - .id005 { width:218px; } - .id006 { width:249px; } - .id007 { width:239px; } - .id008 { width:237px; } - .id009 { width:222px; } - .id010 { width:190px; } - .id011 { width:188px; } - .id012 { width:202px; } - .id013 { width:221px; } - @media handheld { .id001 { margin-left:38%; width:23%; }} - @media handheld { .id002 { margin-left:36%; width:27%; }} - @media handheld { .id003 { margin-left:37%; width:26%; }} - @media handheld { .id004 { margin-left:37%; width:25%; }} - @media handheld { .id005 { margin-left:36%; width:27%; }} - @media handheld { .id006 { margin-left:34%; width:31%; }} - @media handheld { .id007 { margin-left:35%; width:29%; }} - @media handheld { .id008 { margin-left:35%; width:29%; }} - @media handheld { .id009 { margin-left:36%; width:27%; }} - @media handheld { .id010 { margin-left:38%; width:23%; }} - @media handheld { .id011 { margin-left:38%; width:23%; }} - @media handheld { .id012 { margin-left:37%; width:25%; }} - @media handheld { .id013 { margin-left:36%; width:27%; }} - .ig001 { width:100%; } - .table0 { margin: auto; margin-top: 2em; } - .nf-center { text-align: center; } - .nf-center-c0 { text-align: left; margin: 0.5em 0; } - .c000 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em; } - .c001 { margin-top: 4em; } - .c002 { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 45%; width: 10%; margin-right: 45%; } - .c003 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; } - .c004 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; padding-right: 1em; - padding-left: 0.7em; } - .c005 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; } - .c006 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; padding-right: 1em; } - .c007 { margin-top: 2em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; } - .c008 { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.2em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; } - .c009 { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-top: 0.8em; - margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%; width: 30%; } - .c010 { margin-top: 2em; text-align: right; } - .c011 { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.2em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; } - .c012 { margin-top: 2em; } - .c013 { text-align: right; } - .c014 { margin-top: 1em; } - .tnotes { border:thin solid black; padding:2em; margin:2em; } - </style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ghost Camp, by Rolf Boldrewood - -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/license - - -Title: The Ghost Camp - or the Avengers - -Author: Rolf Boldrewood - -Release Date: January 23, 2016 [EBook #51011] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GHOST CAMP *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Sonya Schermann and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div> - <h1 class='c000'>THE GHOST CAMP<br /> <br />OR<br /> <br />THE AVENGERS</h1> -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='large'><b>THE WORKS OF ROLF BOLDREWOOD.</b></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>Uniform Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d. each.</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>ROBBERY UNDER ARMS.</div> - <div class='line'>A COLONIAL REFORMER.</div> - <div class='line'>THE MINER’S RIGHT.</div> - <div class='line'>A MODERN BUCCANEER.</div> - <div class='line'>NEVERMORE.</div> - <div class='line'>THE SQUATTER’S DREAM.</div> - <div class='line'>A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON.</div> - <div class='line'>OLD MELBOURNE MEMORIES.</div> - <div class='line'>MY RUN HOME.</div> - <div class='line'>THE SEALSKIN CLOAK.</div> - <div class='line'>THE CROOKED STICK; OR, POLLIE’S PROBATION.</div> - <div class='line'>PLAIN LIVING.</div> - <div class='line'>A ROMANCE OF CANVAS TOWN.</div> - <div class='line'>WAR TO THE KNIFE.</div> - <div class='line'>BABES IN THE BUSH.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c002' /> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>THE SPHINX OF EAGLEHAWK. Fcap. 8vo. 2s.</div> - <div class='line'>IN BAD COMPANY, and other Stories. Crown 8vo. 6s.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>London: MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='xlarge'>THE GHOST CAMP</span></div> - <div>OR</div> - <div><span class='large'>THE AVENGERS</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>BY</div> - <div><span class='large'>ROLF BOLDREWOOD</span></div> - <div>AUTHOR OF “ROBBERY UNDER ARMS,” “THE MINER’S RIGHT,” ETC.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>London</div> - <div><span class='large'>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Limited</span></span></div> - <div>NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</div> - <div>1902</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='sc'>Richard Clay and Sons, Limited</span>,</div> - <div>LONDON AND BUNGAY.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c003'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table0' summary=''> - <tr> - <th class='c004'></th> - <th class='c005'>PAGE</th> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter I</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter II</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_30'>30</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter III</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_57'>57</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter IV</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_93'>93</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter V</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_122'>122</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter VI</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_159'>159</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter VII</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_198'>198</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter VIII</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_236'>236</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter IX</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_275'>275</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter X</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_305'>305</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter XI</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_343'>343</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Chapter XII</span></td> - <td class='c005'><a href='#Page_365'>365</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span><span class='xlarge'>THE GHOST CAMP</span></div> - <div><span class='large'>OR, THE AVENGERS</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER I</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>A wild</span> and desolate land; dreary, even savage, -to the unaccustomed eye. Forest-clothed hills -towering above the faint, narrow track leading eastward, -along which a man had been leading a tired -horse; he was now resting against a granite boulder. -A dark, mist-enshrouded day, during which the -continuous driving showers had soaked through an -overcoat, now become so heavy that he carried it -across his arm. A fairly heavy valise, above a pair -of blankets, was strapped in front of his saddle.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He was prepared for bush travelling—although his -term of “colonial experience,” judging from his ruddy -cheek and general get-up, had been limited. A rift -in the over-hanging cloud-wrack, through which the -low sunrays broke with a sudden gleam, showed a -darksome mountain range to the south, with summit -and sides, snow-clad and dazzling white.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The wayfarer stood up and stared at the apparition: -“a good omen,” thought he, “perhaps a true landmark. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>The fellows at the mail-change told me to steer in a -general way for the highest snow peak, which they -called ‘the Bogong,’ or some such name. Though -this track seems better marked, these mountain roads, -as they call them—goat paths would be the better -name—for there is not a wheel mark to be seen—one -needs the foot of a chamois and the eye of our -friend up there.” Here he looked upward, where one -of the great birds of prey, half hawk, half eagle, as the -pioneers decided, floated with moveless wing above -crag and hollow. Then rising with an effort, and -taking the bridle rein, he began to lead the weary -horse up the rocky ascent. “Poor old Gilpin!” he -soliloquised, “you are more knocked up than I am—and -yet you have the look of a clever cob—such as -we should have fancied in England for a roadster, or -a covert hack. But roads <em>are</em> roads there, while in this -benighted land, people either don’t know how to make -them, or seem to do their cross-country work without -them. I wonder if I shall fall in with bed and board -to-night. The last was rough, but sufficing—a -good fire too, now I think of it, and precious -cold it was. Well, come along, John! I must bustle -you a bit when we get to the top of this everlasting -hill—truly biblical in that respect. What -a lonesome place it is, now that the sun has gone -under again! I suppose there’s no one within fifty -miles—Hulloa!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This exclamation was called forth by the appearance -of a horseman at no great distance—along the line of -track. Man and horse were motionless, though so -near that he wondered he had not observed them -before. The rider’s face, which was towards him, bore, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>as far as he could judge, an expression of keenest -attention.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Wonder if he is a bushranger?” thought the -traveller; “ought to have brought one of my revolvers; -but everybody told me that there were none ‘out’ -now; that I was as safe as if I was in England—safer, -in fact, than ‘south the water’ in the little -village. However, I shall soon know.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Before he had time to decide seriously, the horseman -came towards him. He saw a slight, dark, wiry -individual, something above the middle height, -sunburned, and almost blackened as to such portions -of his neck and face as could be perceived for an -abundant beard and moustache. The horse, blood-looking, -and in hard condition, presented a striking -contrast to his own leg-weary, disconsolate animal. -The traveller thought him capable of fast and far -performances. His sure and easy gait, as he stepped -freely along the rocky path, stamped him as “mountain-bred,” -or, if not “to the manner born,” having lived -long enough amid these tremendous glens and rocky -fastnesses, to negotiate their ladder-like declivities -with ease and safety.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Good evening!” said the stranger, civilly enough. -“Going to ‘Haunted Creek?’—a bit off the road, -ar’n’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I <em>was</em> doubtful about the track, but I thought it -might lead there. I was told that it was only eight -miles.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s a good fourteen, and you won’t get there -to-night. Not with that horse, anyhow. But look -here! I’m going to my place, a few miles off, with -these cattle—if you like to give me a hand, I can put -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>you up for the night, and show you the way in the -morning.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Thanks very much, really I feel much obliged to -you. I was afraid I should have had to camp out, -and it looks like a bad night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All right,” said the bushman, for such he -evidently was; “these crawlin’ cattle are brutes to -straggle, and I’m lost without my dog. I’ll bring ’em -up, and if you’ll keep the tail going, we’ll get along -easy enough.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But where are they?” inquired the tourist, looking -around, as if he expected to see them rise out of the -earth.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Close by,” answered the stranger, laconically, at -the same time riding down the slope of the mountain -with loose rein, and careless seat, as if the jumble of -rocks, tree-roots, and rolling stones, was the most -level high road in the world. Looking after the new -acquaintance he descried a small lot of cattle perched -on a rocky pinnacle, partly covered by a patch of -scrub. The grass around them was high and green—but, -with one exception, that of a cow munching a -tussac in an undecided way, they did not appear to -care about the green herbage, or tall kangaroo grass -which grew around them. Had he known anything -about the habits of cattle, he would have seen by their -appearance that these fat beasts (for such they were) -had come far and fast; were like his horse, thoroughly -exhausted, and as such, indifferent to the attractions -of wayside pasture.</p> - -<p class='c008'>However, with the aid of a hunting crop, which he -flourished behind them, with threatening action, the -bushman soon managed to get them on to the track, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>and with the aid of his newly-made comrade induced -them to move with a decent show of alacrity. That -some were footsore, and two painfully lame, was -apparent to the new assistant, also that they were -well-bred animals, heavy weights, and in that state -and condition which is provincially alluded to as -“rolling fat.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nice meat, ar’n’t they?” said the bushman; “come -a good way too. Beastly rough track; I was half a -mind to bring them by Wagga—but this is the -shortest way—straight over the ranges. I’m butchering -just now, with gold-mining for a change, but that’s -mostly winter work.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Where do you buy your cattle?” asked the -Englishman—not that he cared as to that part of the -occupation, but the gold-mining seemed to him a -romantic, independent way of earning a living. He -was even now turning over in his mind the idea of a -few months camping among these Alpine regions, -with, of course, the off-chance of coming upon an -untouched gold mine.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! a few here and there, in all sorts of places.” -Here the stranger shot a searching glance, tinged with -suspicion, towards the questioner. “I buy the chance -of stray cattle now and then, and pick ’em up as I -come across ’em. We’d as well jog along here, it’s -better going.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The track had become more marked. There were -no wheel marks, the absence of which had surprised -the traveller, since the beginning of his day’s march, -but tracks of cattle and unshod horses were numerous; -while the ground being less rocky, indeed commencing -to be marshy, no difficulty was found in driving -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>the cattle briskly along it. His horse too, having -“company,” had become less dilatory and despondent.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’re not far off, now,” said his companion, “and -it’s just as well. We’ll have rain to-night—may be -snow. So a roof and a fire won’t be too bad.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>To this statement the tourist cheerfully assented, -his spirits rising somewhat, when another mile being -passed, they turned to the north at a sharp angle to -the road, and following a devious track, found themselves -at the slip-rails of a small but well-fenced -paddock, into which the cattle were turned, and -permitted to stray at will. Fastening the slip rails -with scrupulous care, and following the line of fence -for a hundred yards, they came to a hut built of slabs, -and neatly roofed with sheets of the stringy bark tree -(Eucalyptus obliqua) where his guide unsaddled, and -motioned to the guest to do likewise. As also to put -the saddle against the wall of the hut, with the -stuffing outward. “That’ll dry ’em a bit,” he said; -“mine’s wet enough anyhow. Just bring your horse -after me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Passing through a hand gate, he released his horse, -first, however, putting on a pair of hobbles; “the -feed’s good,” he said, “but this moke’s just out of the -bush, and rather flash—he might jump the fence in -the night, so it’s best to make sure. Yours won’t -care about anything but filling his belly, not to-night -anyhow, so he can go loose. Now we’ll see about a -fire, and boil the billy for tea. Come along in.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Entering the hut, which though small, was neat and -clean; it was seen to contain two rooms, the inner -one apparently used as a bedroom, there being two -bed-places, on each of which was a rude mattress -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>covered with a blanket. A store of brushwood and -dry billets had been placed in a corner, from which a -fire was soon blazing in the rude stone chimney, while -a camp kettle (provincially a “billy”) was on the way -to boil without loss of time.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A good-sized piece of corned beef, part of a round, -with half a “damper” loaf being extracted from a -cupboard or locker, was placed on the rude slab table; -after which pannikins and tin plates, with knives and -forks, provided from the same receptacle, were brought -forth, completing the preparations for a meal that the -guest believed he was likely to relish.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! I nearly forgot,” said the traveller, as his -entertainer, dropping a handful of tea into the “billy,” -now at the boil, and stirring it with a twig, put on -the lid. “I brought a flask, it’s very fair whisky, and -a tot won’t hurt either of us, after a long day and a -wet one.” Going to his coat, he brought out a flask, -and nearly filling the tin cup which was closed over -the upper part, offered it to his host. He, rather -to the surprise of the Englishman, hesitated and -motioned as if to refuse, but on second thoughts -smiled in a mysterious way, and taking the tin cup, -nodded, and saying “Well, here’s fortune!” tossed it -off. Blount took one of the pannikins, and pouring -out a moderate allowance, filled it up with the clear -spring water, and drank it by instalments.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I must say I feel better after that,” he observed, -“and if a dram needs an excuse, a long, cold ride, -stiff legs, and a wetting ought to be sufficient.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They don’t look about for excuses up here,” said -his new acquaintance, “and some takes a deal more -than is good for them. I don’t hold with that, but a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>nip or two’s neither here nor there, particular after a -long day. Help yourself to the meat and damper, -you see your supper.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The traveller needed no second invitation; he did -not, like the clerk of Copmanhurst, plunge his fingers -into the venison pasty, there being neither venison -nor pasty, but after cutting off several slices of the -excellent round of beef which had apparently -sustained previous assaults, he made good time, with -the aid of a well-baked “damper,” and an occasional -reference to a pannikin of hot tea, so that as their -appetites declined, more leisure was afforded for -conversation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And now,” he said, after filling up a second -pannikin of tea, and lighting his pipe, “I’m sure I’m -very much obliged to you, as I hear the rain coming -down, and the wind rising. May I ask whose -hospitality I’m enjoying? I’m Valentine Blount of -Langley in Herefordshire. Not long out, as I dare -say you have noticed. Just travelling about to have -a look at the country.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My name’s John Carter,” said the bushman, with -apparent frankness, as he confronted Blount’s steady -eye, “but I’m better known from here to Omeo, as -‘Little River Jack’; there’s lots of people knows me -by that name, that don’t know me by any other.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And what do you do when you get gold—take it -to Melbourne to sell?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There’s no call to do that. Melbourne’s a good -way off, and it takes time to get there. But there’s -always gold buyers about townships, that are on for a -little business. They give a trifle under market price, -but they pay cash, and it suits us mountain chaps to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>deal that way. Sometimes I’m a buyer myself, along -with the cattle-dealing. Look here!” As he spoke, -he detached a leather pouch from his belt, looking -like one that stockriders wear for carrying pipe and -tobacco, which he threw on the table. The grog had -inclined to confidences and relaxed his attitude of -caution. Blount lifted it, rather surprised at its -weight. “This is gold, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! a good sample too. Worth four pound an -ounce. Like to look at it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Very much. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen -gold in the raw state before.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, here it is—the real thing, and no mistake. -Right if a chap could only get enough of it.” -Here he opened the mouth of the pouch, which seemed -three parts full, and pouring some of it on a tin plate, -awaited Blount’s remarks.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As the precious metal, partly in dust, partly in -larger fragments, rattled on the plate, Blount looked -on with deep interest, and then, on being invited so -to do, handled it with the air of a man to whom a new -and astonishing object is presented for the first time.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So,” he said musingly, “here is one of the great -lures which have moved the world since the dawn of -history. Love, war, and ambition, have been subservient -to it. Priests and philosophers, kings and queens, -the court beauty and the Prime Minister, have vainly -struggled against its influence. But—” he broke -off with a laugh, as he noted his companion’s look of -wonder, “here am I, another example of its fascination, -moralising in a mountain hut and mystifying my -worthy entertainer.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And now, my friend!” he inquired, relapsing into -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>the manner of everyday life, “what may be the market -value of this heavy little parcel?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well—I put it at fifty ounces, or thereabouts,” -said Mr. “Little River Jack,” carefully pouring back -the contents of the pouch, to the last grain; “at, say -four pound an ounce, it’s worth a couple of hundred -notes, though <em>we</em> sha’n’t get that price for it. But at -Melbourne mint, it’s worth every shilling, maybe a -trifle more.” Before closing the pouch, he took out a -small nugget of, perhaps, half an ounce in weight, and -saying, “You’re welcome to this. It’ll make a decent -scarf pin,” handed it to Mr. Blount.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But that gentleman declined it, saying, “Thanks, -very much, but I’d rather not.” Then, seeing that the -owner seemed hurt, even resentful, qualified the refusal -by saying, “But if you would do me a service, which -I should value far more, you might introduce me to -some party of miners, with whom I could work for a -month or two, and learn, perhaps, how to get a few -ounces by my own exertions. I think I should like -the work. It must be very interesting.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s that interesting,” said the bushman, all signs -of annoyance clearing from his countenance, “that -once a man takes to it he never quits it till he makes -a fortune or dies so poor that the Government has to -bury him. I’ve known many a man that used a -cheque book as big as a school slate, and could draw -for a hundred thousand or more, drop it all in a few -years, and be found dead in a worse ‘humpy’ than -this, where he’d been living alone for years.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Strange to have been rich by his own handiwork, -and not to be able to keep something for his old age,” -said Blount; “how is it to be accounted for?”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>“By luck, d—d hard luck!” said John Carter, -whom the subject seemed to have excited. “Every -miner’s a born gambler; if he don’t do it with cards, -he puts his earnings, his time, his life blood, as one -might say, on the chance of a claim turning out well. -It’s good luck, and not hard work, that gives him a -‘golden hole,’ where he can’t help digging up gold -like potatoes, and it’s luck, bad luck, that turns him -out a beggar from every ‘show’ for years, till he -hasn’t got a shirt to his back. Why do I stick to -it, you’ll say? Because I’m a fool, always have -been, always will be, I expect. But I like the -game, and I can’t leave it for the life of me. However, -that says nothing. I’m no worse than others. -I can just keep myself and my horse, while there’s -an old mate of mine living in London and Paris, and -swelling it about with the best! You’d like to have a -look in, you say? Well, you stop at Bunjil for a -week, till I come back from Bago; it’s a good inn, -clean and comfortable, and the girl there, if I tell -her, will look after you; see you have a fire too, -these cold nights. Are you on?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! most decidedly,” replied Blount, with great -heartiness. “A mountain hotel should be a new -experience.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then it’s a bargain. I’m going down the river -for a few days. When I get back, I’ll pick you up -at Bunjil, and we’ll go to a place such as you -never seen before, and might never have dropped -on as long as you lived, if you hadn’t met me, -accidental like. And now we’d as well turn in. I -expect some chaps that’s bought the cattle, and -they won’t be here later than daylight.” Accepting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>another glass of whisky as nightcap, and subsequently -removing merely his boots and breeches, -both of which he placed before the fire, but at a -safe distance, Mr. “Little River Jack” “turned in” -as he expressed it, and was shortly wrapped in -the embrace of the kind deity who favours the -dwellers in the Waste, though often rejecting the -advances of the luxurious inhabitants of cities. Mr. -Blount delayed his retirement, as he smoked before -the still glowing “back log” and dwelt upon the -adventures of the day.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How that fellow must enjoy his slumbers!” thought -he. “In the saddle before daylight, as he told me; -up and down these rocky fastnesses—fifteen hours of -slow, monotonous work, more wearying than any -amount of fast going—and now, by his unlaboured -breathing, sleeping like a tired child; his narrow -world—its few cares—its honest, if sometimes exhausting -labours, as completely shut out as if he was in -another planet. Enviable mortal! I should like to -change places with him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>After expressing this imprudent desire, as indeed -are often those of men, who, unacquainted with the -conditions surrounding untried modes of life, believe -that they could attain happiness by merely exchanging -positions, Mr. Blount undressed before the fire, -and bestowed himself upon the unoccupied couch, -where he speedily fell asleep, just as he had imagined -himself extracting large lumps of gold from a vein -of virgin quartz, in a romantic fern-shaded ravine, -discovered by himself.</p> - -<p class='c008'>From this pleasing state of matters, he was -awakened by a sound as of horse hoofs and the low -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>growl of a dog. It was not quite dark. He sat up -and listened intently. There was no illusion. He -went to the hut door and looked out. Day was -breaking, and through the misty dawnlight he was -enabled to distinguish his host in conversation with a -man on horseback, outside of the slip-rails. Presently -the cattle, driven by another horseman, with whom -was a dog, apparently of more than ordinary intelligence, -came to the slip-rails. They made a rush as -soon as they were through, as is the manner of such, on -strange ground—but the second horseman promptly -“wheeled” them towards the faint dawn line now -becoming more distinct, and disappeared through the -forest arches. Mr. Blount discerning that the day had -begun, for practical purposes, proceeded to dress.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Walking over to the chimney, he found that the -smouldering logs had been put together, and a cheerful -blaze was beginning to show itself. The billy, -newly filled, was close to it, and by the time he had -washed the upper part of his body in a tin bucket -placed on a log end, outside the door, his friend of -the previous night appeared with both horses, which -he fastened to the paddock fence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Those fellows woke you up, coming for the cattle? -Thought you’d sleep through it. I was going to rouse -you when breakfast was ready.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I slept soundly in all conscience, but still I was -quite ready to turn out. I suppose those were the -butchers that you sold the cattle to?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Two of their men—it’s all the same. They -stopped close by last night so as to get an early start. -They’ve a good way to go, and’ll want all their time, -these short days. Your horse looks different this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>morning. It’s wonderful what a good paddock and a -night’s rest will do!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, indeed, he does look different,” as he saddled -him up, and, plucking some of the tall grass which -grew abundantly around, treated him to a partial rub -down. “How far is it to Bunjil, as you call it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, not more than twenty miles, but the road’s -middlin’ rough. Anyhow we’ll get there latish, and -you can take it easy till I come back. I mightn’t be -away more than three or four days.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Misty, even threatening, at the commencement, -the day became fine, even warm, after breakfast. -Wind is rarely an accompaniment of such weather, -and as the sun rode higher in the cloudless sky, Blount -thought he had rarely known a finer day. “What -bracing mountain air!” he said to himself. “Recalls -the Highlands; but I see no oat fields, and the -peasantry are absent. These hills should rear a -splendid race of men—and rosy-cheeked lasses in -abundance. The roads I cannot recommend.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. John Carter had admitted that the way was -rough. His companion thought he had understated the -case. It was well nigh impassable. When not climbing -hills as steep as the side of a house, they were -sliding down bridle tracks like the “Ladder of Cattaro.” -These Mr. Carter’s horse hardly noticed; a down -grade being negotiated with ease and security, while -he seemed, to Blount’s amazement, to step from rock -to rock like a chamois. That gentleman’s own horse -had no such accomplishments, but blundered perilously -from time to time, so that his owner was fain -to lead him over the rougher passes. This rendered -their progress slower than it would otherwise have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>been, while he was fain to look enviously at his companion, -who, either smoking or discoursing on local -topics, rode with careless rein, trusting implicitly, as it -seemed, to his horse’s intelligence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Here’s the Divide!” he said at length, pointing -to a ridge which rose almost at right angles from the -accepted track. “We leave the road here, and head -straight for Bunjil mountain. There he stands with -his cap on! The snow’s fell early this season.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>As he spoke he pointed towards a mountain peak -of unusual height, snow-capped, and even as to its -spreading flanks, streaked with patches and lines of -the same colour. The white clouds which hung round -the lofty summit—six thousand feet from earth, were -soft-hued and fleecy; but their pallor was blurred and -dingy compared with the silver coronet which glorified -the dark-hued Titan.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Road!” echoed Mr. Blount, “I don’t see any; -what passes for it, I shall be pleased to leave. If we -are to go along this ‘Divide,’ as you call it, I hope it -will be pleasanter riding.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, it is a queerish track for a bit, but after -Razor Back’s passed, it’s leveller like. We can raise -a trot for a mile or two afore we make Bunjil township. -Razor Back’s a narrer cut with a big drop both -sides, as we shall have to go stiddy over.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The Divide,” as John Carter called it, was an improvement -upon the track they quitted. It was less -rocky, and passably level. There was a gradual ascent -however, which Mr. Blount did not notice until he -observed that the timber was becoming more sparse, -while the view around them was disclosing features -of a grand, even awful character. On either side the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>forest commenced to slope downwards, at an increasingly -sharp gradient. Instead of the ordinary precipice, -above which the travellers rode, on one or other -side of the bridle track, having the hill on the other, -there appeared to be a precipice of unknown depth -on <em>either hand</em>. As the ascent became more marked, -Blount perceived that the winding path led towards -a pinnacle from which the view was extensive, and in -a sense, dreadful, from its dizzy altitude—its abysmal -depths,—and, as he began to realise, its far from -improbable danger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This here’s what we call the leadin’ range; it -follers the divide from the head waters of the Tambo; -that’s where we stopped last night. It’s the only road -between that side of the country and the river. If -you don’t strike this ‘cut,’ and there’s not more than -a score or so of us mountain chaps as knows it, it -would take a man days to cross over, and then he -mightn’t do it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What would happen to him?” asked Blount, feeling -a natural curiosity to learn more of this weird -region, differing so widely from any idea that he had -ever gathered from descriptions of Australia.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, he’d most likely get bushed, and have to -turn back, though he mightn’t find it too easy to do -that, or make where he come from. In winter time, -if it come on to snow, he’d never get home at all. -I’ve known things happen like that. There was one -poor cove last winter, as we chaps were days out -searchin’ for, and then found him stiff, and dead—he’d -got sleepy, and never woke up!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>While this enlivening conversation was proceeding, -the man from a far country discovered that the pathway, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>level enough for ordinary purposes, though he -and his guide were no longer riding side by side, was -rapidly narrowing. What breadth it would be, when -they ascended to the pinnacle above them, he began -to consider with a shade of apprehension. His -hackney, which Mr. Jack Carter had regarded with -slightly-veiled contempt as a “flat country horse, as -had never seen a rise bigger than a haystack,” evidently -shared his uneasiness, inasmuch as he had -stopped, stared and trembled from time to time, at -awkward places on the road, before they came to the -celebrated “leading range.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>In another mile they reached the pinnacle, where -Blount realised the true nature and surroundings of -this Alpine Pass. Such indeed it proved to be. A -narrow pathway, looking down on either side, upon -fathomless glens, with so abrupt a drop that it seemed -as if the wind, now rising, might blow them off their -exposed perch.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The trees which grew at the depths below, though -in reality tall and massive eucalypts, appeared scarce -larger than berry bushes.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The wedge-tailed eagles soared above and around. -One pair indeed came near and gazed on them with -unblenching eye, as though speculating on the duration -of their sojourn. They seemed to be the natural -denizens of this dizzy and perilous height, from which -the vision ranged, in wondering amaze over a vast -lone region, which stretched to the horizon; appearing -indeed to include no inconsiderable portion of the -continent.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Below, around, even to the far, misty sky-line, was -a grey, green ocean, the billows of which, through the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>branches of mighty forest trees, were reduced by distance -to a level and uniform contour. Tremendous -glens, under which ran clear cold mountain streams, -tinkling and rippling ever, mimic waterfalls and flashing -rivulets, the long dry summer through diversified -the landscape.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Silver streams crossed these plains and downs of -solemn leafage, distinguishable only when the sun -flashed on their hurrying waters. These were rivers—not -inconsiderable either—while companies of -snow-crowned Alps stood ranged between, tier -upon tier above them and the outlined rim, where -earth and sky met, vast, regal, awful, as Kings -of the Over-world! On guard since the birth of -time, rank upon rank they stood—silent, immovable, -scornful—defying the puny trespassers on their -immemorial demesne. “What a land! what a vast -expanse!” thought the Englishman, “rugged, untamed, -but not more so than ‘Caledonia stern and wild,’ more -fertile and productive, and as to extent—boundless. -I see before me,” he mused, “a country larger than -Sweden, capable in time of carrying a dense population; -and what a breed of men it should give birth -to, athletic, hardy, brave! Horsemen too, in the words -of Australia’s forest poet, whom I read but of late. -‘For the horse was never saddled that the Jebungs -couldn’t ride.’ Good rifle shots! What sons of the -Empire should these Australian highlands rear, to do -battle for Old England in the wars of the giants yet -to come!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This soliloquy, and its utterance in thought came -simultaneously to a halt of a decisive nature, by reason -of the conduct of Mr. Blount’s horse. This animal had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>been gradually acquiring a fixed distrust of the -highway—all too literally—on which he was required -to travel. Looking first on one side, then on the -other, and apparently realising the dreadful alternative -of a slip or stumble, he became unnerved and -demoralised. Mr. Blount had ridden a mule over many -a <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mauvais pas</span></i> in Switzerland, when the sagacious -animal, for reasons known to himself, had insisted -on walking on the outer edge of the roadway, over-hanging -the gulf, where a crumbling ledge might -cause the fall into immeasurable, glacial depths. In -that situation his nerve had not faltered. “Trust to -old ‘Pilatus,’” said the guide; “do not interfere -with him, I beseech you; he is under the immediate -protection of the saints, and the holy St. Bernard.” -He had in such a position been cool and composed. -The old mule’s wise, experienced air, his sure and -cautious mode of progression, had been calculated to -reassure a nervous novice. But here, the case -was different. His cob was evidently <em>not</em> under the -protection of the saints. St. Bernard was absent, or -indifferent. With the recklessness of fear, he was -likely to back—to lose his balance—to hurl himself -and rider over the perpendicular drop, where he would -not have touched ground at a thousand feet. At this -moment Jack Carter looked round. “Keep him -quiet, for God’s sake! till I get to you—don’t stir!” -As he spoke he slid from his horse, though so -small was the vacant space on the ledge, that as he -leaned against the shoulder of his well-trained mount, -there seemed barely room for his feet. Buckling a -strap to the snaffle rein, which held it in front of the -saddle, and throwing the stirrup iron over, he passed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>to the head of the other horse, whose rein he took in -a firm grasp. “Steady,” he said in a voice of -command, which, strangely, the shaking creature -seemed to obey. “Now, Boss! you get off, and slip -behind him—there’s just room.” Blount did as -directed, and with care and steadiness, effected a -movement to the rear, while Jack Carter fastened rein -and stirrup as before.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then giving the cob a sounding slap on the quarter, -he uttered a peculiar cry, and the leading horse stepped -along the track at a fast amble, followed by the cob -at a slow trot, in which he seemed to have recovered -confidence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s a quick way out of the difficulty,” said -Blount, with an air of relief. “I really didn’t know -what was going to happen. But won’t they bolt when -they get to the other side of this natural bridge over -the bottomless pit?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“When they get to the end of this ‘race,’ as you -may call it, there’s a trap yard that we put up years -back for wild horses—many a hundred’s been there -before my time. Some of us mountain chaps keep it -mended up. It comes in useful now and again.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I should think it did,” assented his companion, -with decision. “But how will they get in? Will -your clever horse take down the slip-rails, and put -them up again?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not quite that!” said the bushman smiling—“but -near enough; we’ll find ’em both there, I’ll go bail!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How far is it?” asked Blount, with a natural -desire to get clear of this picturesque, but too exciting -part of the country, and to exchange it for more -commonplace scenery, with better foothold.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>“Only a couple of mile—so we might as well step -out, as I’ve filled my pipe. Won’t you have a draw -for company?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not just yet, I’ll wait till we’re mounted again.” -For though the invariable, inexhaustible tobacco pipe -is the steadfast friend of the Australian under all and -every condition of life, Blount did not feel in the -humour for it just after he had escaped, as he now -began to believe, from a sudden and violent death.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A well-trained horse! I should think he was,” he -told himself; “and yet, before I left England, I was -always being warned against the half-broken horses of -Australia. What a hackney to be sure!—fast, easy, -sure-footed, intelligent—and what sort of breaking in -has he had? Mostly ridden by people whom no -living horse can throw; but that is a disadvantage—as -he instinctively recognises the rider he <em>can</em> throw. -Well! every country has its own way of doing -things; and though we Englishmen are unchangeably -fixed in our own methods, we may have something to -learn yet from our kinsmen in this new land.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I suppose there have been accidents on this peculiar -track of yours?” he said, after they had walked in -silence for a hundred yards or more.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Accidents!” he replied, “I should jolly well think -there have. You see, horses are like men and women, -though people don’t hardly believe it. Some’s born -one way, and some another; teaching don’t make -much difference to ’em, nor beltin’ either. Some of -’em, like some men, are born cowards, and when they -get into a narrer track with a big drop both sides of -’em, they’re that queer in the head—though it’s the -<em>heart</em> that’s wrong with ’em—that they feel like pitching -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>theirselves over, just to get shut of the tremblin’ -on the brink feelin’. Your horse was in a blue funk; -he’d have slipped or backed over in another minute -or two. That was the matter with <em>him</em>. When he -seen old Keewah skip along by himself, it put confidence -like, into him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve known of accidents, then?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My word! I mind when poor Paddy Farrell went -down. He and his horse both. He was leadin’ a -packer, as it might be one of us now. Well, his moke -was a nervous sort of brute, and just as he got to the -Needle Rock, it’s a bit farther on before the road -widens out, but it’s terrible narrer there, and poor -Paddy was walking ahead leadin’ the brute with a -green hide halter, when a hawk flies out from behind -a rock and frightened the packer. He draws back -with a jerk, and his hind leg goes over the edge. -Paddy had the end of the halter round his wrist, and -it got jammed somehow, and down goes the lot, horse -and pack, and him atop of ’em. Three or four of us -were out all day looking for him at the foot of the -range. We knew where we’d likely find him, and sure -enough there they were, he and his horse, stone dead -and smashed to pieces. We took him back to Bunjil, -and buried him decent in the little graveyard. We -managed to fish up a prayer-book, and got ‘Gentleman -Jack’ to read the service over him. My word! -he <em>could</em> read no end. They said he was college -taught. He could drink too, more’s the pity.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Does <em>every one</em> drink that lives in these parts?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, a good few. Us young ones not so bad, -but if a man stays here, after a few years he always -drinks, partickler if he’s seen better days.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>“Now why is that? It’s a free healthy life, with -riding, shooting, and a chance of a golden hole, as -you call it. There are worse places to live in.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nobody knows why, but they all do; they’ll work -hard and keep sober for months. Then they get -tired of having no one to talk to—nobody like theirselves, -I mean. They go away, and come back stone-broke, -or knock it all down in Bunjil, if they’ve made -a few pounds.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That sounds bad after working hard and risking -their lives on these Devil’s Bridges. How old was -this Patrick Farrell?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Twenty-four, his name wasn’t Patrick. It was -Aloysius William, named after a saint, I’m told. The -boys called him ‘Paddy’ for short. At home, I -believe they called him ‘Ally.’ But Paddy he always -was in these parts. It don’t matter much now. See -that tall rock sticking up by the side of the road at -the turn? Well, that’s where he fell; they call it -‘Paddy’s Downfall,’ among the country people to this -day. We’ve only a mile to go from there.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>When Mr. Blount and his companion reached the -Needle Rock, a sharp-edged monolith, the edge of -which unnecessarily infringed on the perilously scanty -foothold, he did not wonder at the downfall of poor -Aloysius William or any other wayfarer encumbered -with a horse. He recalled the “vision of sudden -death” which had so nearly been realised in his own -case, and shuddered as he looked over the sheer drop -on to a tangled mass of “rocks and trees confusedly -hurled.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’ve got Bunjil Inn to make yet,” said the bushman, -stepping forward briskly; “we mustn’t forget -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>that, if we leave my old moke too long in the yard, -he’ll be opening the gate or some other dodge.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>In a hundred yards from the Needle Rock the -track became wider, much to Mr. Blount’s relief, for he -was beginning to feel an uncanny fascination for the -awful abyss, and to doubt whether if a storm came on, -he should be able to stand erect, or be reduced to the -ignoble alternative of lying on his face.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They’ve passed along here all right,” said the -guide, casting a casual look at the path; “trust old -Keewah for that, he’s leadin’ and your moke following -close up.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount did not see any clear indication, and -would have been quite unable to declare which animal -was foremost. But he accepted in all confidence -Little-River-Jack’s assurance. The track, without -gaining much breadth or similarity to any civilised -high road, was yet superior in all respects to the -chamois path they had left behind, and when his companion -exclaimed, “There’s the yard, and our nags in -it, as safe as houses,” he was relieved and grateful. -The loss of a horse with a new saddle and bridle, -besides his whole stock of travelling apparel, spare -shoes, and other indispensable matters, would have -been serious, not to say irreparable.</p> - -<p class='c008'>However there were the two horses with their -accoutrements complete, in the trap yard aforesaid. -The yard was fully eight feet high, and though the -saplings of which it was composed were rudely put -together, they were solid and unyielding. The heavy -gate of the same material showed a rude carpentry -in the head and tail pieces, the former of which was -“let into the cap” or horizontal spar placed across -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>the gate posts, and also morticed into a round upright -below, sunk into the ground and projecting -securely above it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They must have come in and shut the gate after -them,” remarked Blount; “how in the world did they -manage that?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, you see, this gate’s made pretty well on the -balance to swing back to the post, where there’s a -sort of groove for it. It’s always left half, or a quarter -open. A prop’s put loose agen it, which any stock -coming in from that side’s middlin’ sure to rub, and the -gate swings to. See? It may graze ’em, as they’re -going in, but they’re likely to jump forward, into the -yard. The gate swings back to the post, and they’re -nabbed. They can’t very well open it <em>towards</em> themselves, -they haven’t savey for that. So they have to -wait till some one comes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This explanation was given as they were riding -along a decently plain road to Bunjil township, the -first appearance of which one traveller descried with -much contentment.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The “Divide,” before this agreeable change, had -begun to alter its austere character. The ridge had -spread out, the forest trees were stately and umbrageous, -the track was fairly negotiable by horse -and man. A fertile valley through which dashed an -impetuous stream revealed itself. On the further -bank stood dwellings, “real cottages,” as Mr. Blount -remarked, “not huts.” These were in all cases -surrounded by gardens, in some instances by orchards, -of which the size and girth of the fruit trees bore -witness to the richness of the soil as well as of the -age of the township.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>The short winter day had been nearly consumed -by reason of their erratic progress; so that the evening -shadows had commenced to darken the valley, while -the clear, crisp atmosphere betrayed to the experienced -senses of Mr. Carter, every indication of what -he described as “a real crackin’ frost.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We’re in luck’s way,” he said, in continuation, -“not to be struck for a camp out to-night. It’s cold -enough in an old man frost hereabouts, to freeze the -leg off an iron pot. But this is the right shop as -we’re going to, for a good bed, a broiled steak for tea, -and if you make friends with Sheila (she’s the girl -that waits at table) you won’t die of cold, whatever -else happens to you. Above all, the house is clean, -and that’s more than you can say for smarter lookin’ -shops. We’d as well have a spurt to finish up with.” -Drawing his rein, and touching his hack with careless -heel, the bushman went off at a smart canter along -the main street, apparently the only one in the little -town, Mr. Blount’s cob following suit with comparative -eagerness, until they pulled up at a -roomy building with a broad verandah, before which -stood a sign-board, setting forth its title to consideration, -as the “Prospector’s Arms” by William -Middleton.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Several persons stood or lounged about the -verandah, who looked at them keenly as they rode -up. A broad-shouldered man with a frank, open -countenance, came out of a door, somewhat apart -from the group. He was plainly, by appearance and -bearing, the landlord.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So you’re back again, Jack,” said he, addressing -the bushman with an air of familiar acquaintance; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>“didn’t know what had come o’yer. What lay are -ye on now?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Same’s usual, moochin’ round these infernal hills -and gullies ov yours. There’s a bit of a rush Black -Rock way. I’m goin’ to have a look in to-morrow. -This gentleman’s just from England, seein’ the -country in a gineral way; he’ll stay here till I get -back, and then we’ll be going down river.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All right, Jack!” replied the host. “<em>You</em> can -show him the country, if any one can—the missus’ll -see he’s took care of,” and as he spoke he searched -the speaker with a swift glance as of one comprehending -all that had been said, and more that was -left unspoken. “Here, take these horses round, -George, and make ’em right for the night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>An elderly individual in shirt sleeves and moleskins -of faded hue here came forward, and took the -stranger’s horse, unbuckling valise and pack, which -the landlord carried respectfully into an inner -chamber, out of which a door led into a comfortable -appearing bedroom; where, from the look of the -accessories, he augured favourably for the night’s rest. -Mr. Carter had departed with the old groom, preferring, -as he said, to see his horse fed and watered before -he tackled his own refreshment; “grub” was the -word he used, which appeared to be fully understanded -of the people, if but vaguely explanatory to Mr. -Blount.</p> - -<p class='c008'>That gentleman, pensively examining his wardrobe, -reflected meanwhile by how narrow a chance the -articles spread out before him had been saved from -wreck, so to speak, and total loss, when a knock came -to the door, and a feminine voice requested to know -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>whether he would like supper at six o’clock or later. -Taking counsel of his inward monitor, he adopted -the hour named.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The voice murmured, “Your hot water, sir,” and -ceased speaking.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He opened the door, and was just in time to see a -female form disappear from the room.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We are beginning to get civilised,” he thought, -as he possessed himself of the hot water jug, and -refreshed accordingly. After which he discarded his -riding gear in favour of shoes and suitable continuations. -While awaiting the hour of <a id='ref'></a>reflection, he took -out of his valise a pocket edition of Browning, and -was about to glance at it when the clock struck six.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Entering the parlour, for such it evidently was, he -was agreeably surprised with the appearance of affairs. -A clean cloth covered the solid cedar table, on which -was a hot dish—flanked by another which held potatoes. -A fire of glowing logs was cheerful to behold, nor -was the “neat-handed Phyllis” wanting to complete -the tableau. A very good-looking young woman, -with a complexion of English, rather than Australian -colouring, removed the dish covers, and stood at -attention.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Here the wayfarer was destined to receive fresh -information relative to the social observances of -Australian society. “You have only laid covers for -one,” said he to the maid. “My friend, Mr. Carter, is -not going to do without his dinner surely?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! Jack!” said the damsel, indifferently; “he -won’t come in here, he’s at the second table with the -coachman and the drovers. This is the gentlemen’s -room.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>“How very curious!” he exclaimed. “I thought -every one was alike in this part of the world; all free -and equal, that sort of thing. I shouldn’t the least -mind spending the evening with er—John Carter—or -any other respectable miner.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The girl looked him over before she spoke. “Well, -Mr. Blount (Jack said that was your name), <em>you</em> -mightn’t, though you’re just from England, but other -people might. When the police magistrate, the -Goldfields Warden, and the District Surveyor come -round, they always stay here, and the down river -squatters. They wouldn’t like it, you may be sure, -nor you either, perhaps, if the room was pretty full.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>He smiled, as he answered, “So this is an aristocratic -country, I perceive, in spite of the newspaper -froth about a democratic government. Well, I must -take time, and learn the country’s ways. I shall pick -them up by degrees, I suppose.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No fear!” said the damsel. “It’ll all come in -time, not but there’s places at the back where all sorts -sit down together and smoke and drink no end. But -not at Bunjil. Would you like some apple-pie to -follow, there’s plenty of cream?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount would. “Apple-pie reminds one of -Devonshire, and our boyhood—especially the cream,” -thought he. “What fun I should have thought this -adventure a few years ago. Not that it’s altogether -without interest now. It’s a novelty, at any rate.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER II</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Mr. Blount</span>, as he sat before the fire, enjoying -his final pipe before retiring for the night, was free to -confess that he had rarely spent a more satisfactory -evening—even in the far-famed, old-fashioned, road-side -inns of old England. The night was cold—Carter’s -forecast had been accurate. It was a hard -frost, such as his short stay in a coast city had not -acquainted him with. The wide bush fire-place, with -a couple of back logs, threw out a luxurious warmth, -before which, in a comfortable arm-chair, he had been -reading the weekly paper with interest.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The well-cooked, juicy steak, the crisp potatoes, -the apple-pie with bounteous cream, constituted a -meal which a keen-edged appetite rendered sufficient -for all present needs. The difficult ride and too -hazardous adventure constituted a fair day’s work—being -indeed sufficiently fatiguing to justify rest without -bordering on exhaustion. It was a case of <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">jam -satis</span></i>.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He looked forward to an enjoyable night’s sleep, -was even aware of a growing sense of relief that he -was not required to take the road next morning. -The cob would be better for a few days’ rest, before -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>doing more mountain work. He would like also to -ramble about this neighbourhood, and see what the -farms and sluicing claims were like. And a better base -of operations than the Bunjil Hotel, no man need -desire.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He had gone to the stable with Carter, as became -a prudent horse-owner, where he had seen the -cob comfortably bedded down for the night with -a plenteous supply of sweet-smelling oaten hay -before him, and an unstinted feed of maize in the -manger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They’re all right for the night,” said Carter. -“Your nag will be the better for a bit of a turn round -to-morrow afternoon, just to keep his legs from -swellin’. I’ll be off about sunrise, and back again -the fourth day, or early the next. They’ll look -after you here, till then.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount was of opinion that he could look after -himself from what he had seen of the establishment, -and said so, but “was nevertheless much obliged to -him for getting him such good quarters.” So to bed, -as Mr. Pepys hath it, but before doing so, he rang the -bell, and questioned Sheila—for that was her name, as -he had ascertained by direct inquiry—as to the bath -arrangements.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I shall want a cold bath at half-past seven—a -shower bath, for choice. Is there one?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, yes—but very few go in for it this time of -year. The P.M. does, when he comes round, and the -Goldfields Warden. It’s one of those baths that you -fill and draw up over your head. Then you pull -a string.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That will do very well.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>“All right—I’ll tell George; but won’t it be very -cold? It’s a hard frost to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No—the colder it is, the warmer you feel after it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, good-night, sir! Breakfast at half-past -eight o’clock. Is that right? Would you like -sausages, boiled eggs and toast?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! nothing could be better. My appetite -seems improving already.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Kookaburra chorus, and the flute accompaniment -of the magpies in the neighbouring tree tops, -awakened Mr. Blount, who had not so much as turned -round in bed since about five minutes after he had -deposited himself between the clean lavender-scented -sheets. Looking out, he faintly discerned the dawn -light, and also that the face of the country was as -white as if it had been snowing. He heard voices in -the verandah, and saw Little-River-Jack’s horse led -out, looking as fresh as paint. That gentleman, -lighting his pipe carefully, mounted and started off at -a fast amble up the road which skirted the range, and -led towards a gap in the hills. Mr. Blount thought -it would be as well to wait until Sheila had the fire -well under way, by which he intended to toast himself -after the arctic discipline of the shower bath, with -the thermometer at 28 degrees Fahrenheit.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The bi-weekly mail had providentially arrived at -breakfast time, bringing in its bags the local district -newspaper, and a metropolitan weekly which skimmed -the cream from the cables and telegrams of the day. -This was sufficiently interesting to hold him to the -arm-chair, in slippered ease, for the greater part of an -hour, while he lingered over his second cup of tea.</p> - -<p class='c008'>His boots, renovated from travel stains and mud, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>standing ready, he determined on a stroll, and took -counsel with Sheila, as to a favourable locality.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The damsel was respectful, but conversed with him -on terms of perfect conversational equality. She -had also been fairly educated, and was free from -vulgarity of tone or accent. To him, straight from -the old country, a distinctly unfamiliar type worth -studying.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Where would you advise me to go for a walk?” -he said. “It’s good walking weather, and I can’t sit -in the house this fine morning, though you have -made such a lovely fire.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I should go up the creek, and have a look at the -sluicing claim. People say it’s worth seeing. You -can’t miss it if you follow up stream, and you’ll hear -the ‘water gun’ a mile before you come to it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Water gun?’ What ever is that?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! it’s the name of a big hose with a four-inch -nozzle at the end. They lead the water for the race -into it, and then turn it against the creek bank; that -undermines tons of the stuff they want to sluice—you’ll -hear it coming down like a house falling!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And what becomes of it then?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! it goes into the tail-race, and after that it’s -led into the riffles and troughs—the water keeps -driving along, and they’ve some way of washing the -clay and gravel out, and leaving the gold behind.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And does it pay well?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They say so. It only costs a penny a ton to -wash, or something like that. It’s the cheapest way -the stuff can be treated. Our boys saw it used in -California, and brought it over here.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>So, after taking a last fond look at the cob, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>wishing he could exchange him for Keewah, but -doubting if any amount of boot would induce Carter -to part with his favourite, he set out along the bank -of the river and faced the uplands.</p> - -<p class='c008'>His boots were thick, his heart was light—the sun -illumined the frost-white trunks, and diamond-sprayed -branches of the pines and eucalypts—the -air was keen and bracing. “What a glorious thing it -is to be alive on a day like this,” he told himself. -“How glad I am that I decided to leave Melbourne!” -As he stepped along with all the elasticity -of youth’s high health and boundless optimism, he -marked the features of the land. There were wheel-tracks -on this road, which he was pleased to note. -Though the soil was rich, and also damp at the base -of the hills and on the flats, it was sound, so that -with reasonable care he was enabled to keep his feet -dry. He saw pools from which the wild duck flew -on his approach. A blue crane, the heron of -Australia (<i>Ardea</i>) rose from the reeds; while from -time to time the wallaroo (the kangaroo of the -mountain-side) put in appearance to his great delight.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The sun came out, glorifying the wide and varied -landscape and the cloudless azure against which the -snow-covered mountain summits glittered like silver -coronets. Birds of unknown note and plumage -called and chirped. All Nature, recovering from the -cold and darkness of the night, made haste to greet -the brilliant apparition of the sun god.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Keeping within sight of the creek—the course of -which he was pledged to follow—he became aware of -a dull monotonous sound, which he somehow connected -with machinery. It was varied by occasional -<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>reports like muffled blasts, as of the fall of heavy -bodies. “That is the sluicing claim,” he told himself, -“and I shall see the wonderful ‘water gun,’ which -Sheila told me of. Quite an adventure!” The -claim was farther off than he at first judged, but -after climbing with stout heart a “stey brae,” he -looked down on the sluicing appliances, and marvelled -at the inventive ingenuity which the gold -industry had developed. Before him was a ravine -down which a torrent of water was rushing with -great force and rapidity, bearing along in its course -clay, gravel, quartz, and even boulders of respectable -size.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He was civilly received by the claim-holders; -the manager—an ex-Californian miner—remarking, -“Yes, sir, I’m a ‘forty-niner,’—worked at Suttor’s -Mill first year gold was struck there. This is a -pretty big thing, though it ain’t a circumstance to -some I’ve seen in Arizona and Colorado. This -water’s led five hundred feet from these workings. -See it play on the face of the hill-side yonder—reckon -we’ve cut it away two hundred feet from -grass.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount looked with amazement at the thin, -vicious, thread of water, which, directed against the -lower and middle strata of the mass of ferruginous -slate, had laid bare the alluvium through which ran -an ancient river, silted up and overlaid for centuries. -The course of this long dead and buried stream -could be traced by the water-worn boulders and the -smoothness of the rocks which had formed its bed. -Where he stood, there had been a fall of forty feet -as shown by the formation of the rocky channel.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>The manager civilly directed the “gunner” to -lower the weapon, and aim it at a spot nearer to -where Blount was standing. He much marvelled to -see the stones torn from the “face” and sent flying in -the air, creating a fair-sized geyser where the water -smote the cliff. In this fashion of undermining hundreds -of tons are brought down from time to time, to -be driven by the roaring torrent into the “tail-race,” -whence they pass into the “sluice-box,” and so on -to the creek, leaving the gold behind in the riffle -bars.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I suppose it’s not an expensive way of treating -the ore in the rough?” queried Blount.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I reckon not. Cheapest way on airth. The -labour we pay at present only comes to one man to -a thousand yards. This company has been paying -dividends for fifteen years!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount thanked the obliging American, who, -like all respectable miners, was well-mannered to -strangers, the sole exception being in the case of a -party that have “struck gold” in a secluded spot, -and naturally do not desire all the world to know -about it. But even they are less rude than evasive.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He looked at his watch and decided that he had -not more than enough time to get back to Bunjil in -time for lunch. So he shook hands with Mr. Hiram -Endicott and set out for that nucleus of civilisation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Making rather better time on the return journey, -he arrived much pleased with himself, considering -that he had accomplished an important advance in -bush-craft and mineralogy.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sheila welcomed him in a clean print dress, with a -smiling face, but expressed a faint surprise at his safe -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>return, and at his having found the road to the sluice-working, -and back.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why! how could I lose the way?” he demanded, -justly indignant. “Was not the creek a sufficiently -safe guide?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! it can be done,” answered the girl archly. -“There was a gentleman followed the creek the wrong -way, and got among the ranges before he found out -his mistake; and another one—he was a newspaper -editor—thought he’d make a near cut, found himself -miles lower down, and didn’t get back before -dark. My word! how hungry he was, and cross -too!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, I’m not very hungry or even cross—but I’m -going to wash my hands, after which lunch will be -ready, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve just guessed it,” she replied. “You’ll have -tea, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Certainly. Whether Australia was created to -develop the tea and sugar industry, or tea to provide -a portable and refreshing beverage for the inhabitants -to work, and travel, or even fight on, is not finally -decided, but they go wondrous well together.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>After an entirely satisfactory lunch, Mr. Blount -bethought him of the cob—and knowing, as do all -Englishmen, that to do your duty to your neighbour -when he is a horse, you must exercise him at least -once a day, he sent for George, and requested that he -should be brought forth. In a few moments the -valuable animal arrived, looking quite spruce and -spirited, with coat much smoother and mane tidied; -quite like an English covert hack, as Mr. Blount -told himself. His legs had filled somewhat, but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>the groom assured Blount that that was nothing, and -would go off.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Taking counsel of the landlord on this occasion, -that worthy host said, “Would you like to see an old -hand about here that could tell you a few stories about -the early days?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Like?” answered Mr. Blount with effusion, -“nothing better.” It was one of his besetting virtues -to know all about the denizens of any place—particularly -if partly civilised—wherever he happened to -sojourn for a season. It is chiefly a peculiarity of -the imaginative-sympathetic nature whereby much -knowledge of sorts is acquired—sometimes. But -there is a reverse side to the shield.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“George! Ge-or-ge!” shouted the landlord, “catch -the old mare and bring her round. Look slippy!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>George fled away like the wind, with a sieve and a -bridle in his hand, and going to the corner of a small -grass paddock, under false pretences induced an -elderly bay mare to come up to him (there being no -corn in the sieve), then he basely slipped the reins -over her head and led her away captive.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The landlord reappeared with a pair of long-necked -spurs buckled on to his heels, and getting swiftly into -the saddle, started the old mare off at a shuffling walk. -She was a character in her way. Her coat was rough, -her tail was long, there was a certain amount of hair -on her legs, and yes! she <em>was</em> slightly lame on the -near fore-leg. But her eye was bright, her shoulder -oblique; and as she reined up at a touch of the rusty -snaffle and stuck out her tail, Arab fashion, she began -to show class, Mr. Blount thought.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“She’ll be all right, directly,” said the landlord, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>noticing Mr. Blount’s scrutiny of the leg, “I never -know whether it’s rheumatism, or one of her dodges—she’s -as sound as a bell after a mile.” To add to -her smart appearance, she had no shoes.</p> - -<p class='c008'>They passed quickly through cornfields and meadow -lands, rich in pasture, and showing signs of an occasional -heavy crop. The agriculture was careless, -as is chiefly the case where Nature does so much -that man excuses himself for doing little. A cottage -on the south side of the road surrounded by a well-cultivated -orchard furnished the exception which -proves the rule. Mr. Middleton opened the rough -but effective gate, with a patent self-closing latch, -without dismounting from his mare, who squeezed her -shoulder against it, as if she thought she could open -it herself. “Steady!” said her owner—“this gate’s -not an uphill one—she’ll push up a gate hung to slam -down hill as if she knew who made it. She does -know a lot of things you wouldn’t expect of her.” -Holding the gate open till Mr. Blount and the cob -were safely through, he led the way to the cottage, -from which issued a tall, upright, elderly man, with a -distinctly military bearing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This is Mr. Blount, Sergeant,” said the host, -“staying at my place for a day or two—just from -England, as you see! I told him you knew all -about this side, and the people in it—old hands, and -new.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ay! the people—the people!” said the old man -meditatively. “The land’s a’ richt—fresh and innocent, -just as God made it, but the people! the de’il -made <em>them</em> on purpose to hide in these mountains -and gullies, and show what manner of folk could -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>grow up in a far country, where they were a law -unto themselves.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There was wild work in those days before you -came up, Sergeant, I believe!” asserted the landlord, -tentatively.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ay! was there,” and the old light began to shine -in the trooper’s eyes. “Battle, murder, and sudden -death, every kind of villany that the wicked heart -of man could plan, or his cruel hand carry out. -But you’ll come ben and tak’ a cup of tea? The -weather’s gey and cauld the noo.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount would be only too pleased. So the -horses were “hung up” to the neat fence of the -garden, and the visitors walked into the spotless, -neat parlour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Sit ye doon,” said the Sergeant—“Beenie, bring -in tea, and some scones.” A fresh-coloured country -damsel, who presently appeared bearing a jug of milk -and the other requisites, had evidently been within -hearing. “My wife and bairns are doon country,” he -explained, “or she would have been prood to mak’ you -welcome, sir. I’m by ma lane the noo—but she’ll be -back next week, thank God; it’s awfu’ lonesome, when -she’s awa.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You knew Coke, Chamberlain, and Armstrong, all -that crowd—didn’t you, Sergeant?” queried the landlord.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That did I—and they knew <em>me</em> before I’d done -with them, murdering dogs that they were! People -used to say that I’d never die in my bed. That this -one or that had sworn to shoot me—or roast me alive -if they could tak’ me. But I never gave them a chance. -I was young and strong in those days—as active as a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>mountain cat in my Hieland home, and could ride -for twenty-four hours at a stretch, if I had special -wark in hand. Old Donald Bane here could tell fine -tales if he could talk”—pointing to a grand-looking -old grey, feeding in a patch of lucerne. “The General -let me have him when he was cast, that’s ten years -syne. We got our pensions then, and we’re just -hanging it out thegither.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I suppose there are no bad characters in this -neighbourhood now, Sergeant?” said Blount. “Everything -looks very quiet and peaceful.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I wouldna say that,” answered the veteran, cautiously. -“There’s many a mile of rough country, between -here and the Upper Sturt, and there’s apt to be -rough characters to match the country. Cattle are -high, too. A dozen head of fat cattle comes to over a -hundred pound—that’s easy earned if they’re driven -all night, and sold to butchers that have one yard at -the back of a range, and another in the stringy-bark -township, to take the down off.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yet one wouldn’t think such things could be -carried on <em>easily</em> in this part of the country—where -there seem to be so many watchful eyes; but I must -have a longer ride this lovely morning, so I shall be -much obliged if you and our host here will dine with -me at seven o’clock, when we can have leisure to talk. -You’re all by yourself, Sergeant, you know, so there’s -no excuse.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Sergeant accepted with pleasure; the host was -afraid he would be too busy about the bar at the -dinner hour, but would look in afterwards, before the -evening was spent. So it was settled, and the recent -acquaintances rode away.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>“What a fine old fellow the Sergeant is!” said -Blount; “how wonderfully neat and trim everything -inside the house and out is kept.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ll generally notice that about a place when -the owner has been in the police; the inspector blows -up the troopers if there is a button off, or a boot not -cleaned. You’d think they’d let a prisoner go, to -hear him talk. Barracks—stable—carbine—horse—all -have to be neat and clean, polished up to the nines. -Once they get the habit of that they never leave it -off, and after they settle down in a country place, as -it might be here, they set a good example to the -farmers and bush people.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So the police force promotes order in more ways -than one—they root out dishonesty and crime as well—they’re -a grand institution of the country.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, yes, they are,” assented the landlord without -enthusiasm, “though they’re not all built the way the -Sergeant is. I don’t say but what they’re a trifle hard -on publicans now and again for selling a drink to a -traveller on a Sunday. But if it’s the law, they’re -bound to uphold it. We’d be a deal worse off -without them, and that’s the truth.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Blount and the landlord rode down the course of -the stream with much interest, as far as the Englishman -was concerned. For the other, the landscape -was a thing of course. The rich meadow land -which bordered the stream—the far blue mountains—the -fat bullocks and sleek horses feeding in the -fields—the sheep on their way to market, were to -him an ancient and settled order of things, as little -provocative of curiosity as if they had existed from -the foundation of the world. He had been familiar -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>from childhood with them, or with similar stock and -scenery.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But the stranger’s interest and constant inquiry -were unceasing. Everything was new to him. The -fences, the crops, the maize, of which the tall stems -were still standing in their rows, though occasionally -stripped and thrown down by the pigs which -were rooting among them and gleaning the smaller -cobs left behind in the harvest plucking. A certain -carelessness of husbandry was noticed by the critic -from over sea. The hedges were mostly untrimmed, -the plough too often left in the furrow; the weeds, -“thick-coming carpet after rain,” untouched by the -scarifier; the fences broken, hedges indifferently -trimmed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This sort of farming wouldn’t go down in -England.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Perhaps not. Never was there,” replied the -Australian Boniface; “but these chaps are mostly so -well off, that they don’t mind losing a trifle this way, -rather than have too many men to pay and feed. -Labour’s cheap in England, I’m told; here it’s dear. -So the farmer crowds on all he can get till harvest -and shearin’s past, then he pays off all hands, except -an old crawler or two, to milk cows and draw wood -and water. Afterwards he hires no more till ploughing -begins again.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There does seem to be a reason for that, and -other things I have observed,” assented Mr. Blount. -“I suppose in time everything will be nearer English, -or perhaps American ideas. More likely the last. -Machinery for everything, and no time for decent -leisurely country work.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>“Yes, sir—that’s about it,” said Mr. Middleton, -looking at his watch, “and now we’ve just time to get -back for your lunch, and to tell my old woman that -the Sergeant’s coming to dine with you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Doesn’t your mare trot?” said Blount, as they -moved off, “it seems to me that Australian horses -have only two paces, walk and canter. She doesn’t -seem lame now.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think sometimes it’s only her villany; she’s -going as sound as a bell now. Yes! she can trot a -bit when she likes.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The cob, a fair performer, had just started, when -Mr. Middleton gave the mare’s left ear a gentle screw, -which induced her to alter her pace from a slow canter -to a trot. “Trot, old woman!” he said, and settling -to that useful pace, she caught up the cob. Mr. -Blount gradually increased his pace—the old mare -kept level with him, till after a dig with the spurs, and -a refresher with the hunting crop, it became apparent -that the cob was “on his top,” in stable phrase, doing -a fair ten or eleven miles an hour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Are ye trotting now?” said the landlord, taking -the old mare by the head.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! oh, yes—and pretty fair going, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not bad, but this old cripple can do better.” On -which, as if she had heard the words, the old mare -stretched out her neck and passed the cob “like a -shot!” as her owner afterwards stated when describing -the affair to an admiring audience in the bar room.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The cob, after an ineffectual attempt to keep up, -was fain to break into a hand gallop, upon which the -old mare was pulled up, and the rider explained that -it took a professional to beat old “Slavey”; but that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>owing to her uncertain temper, he had been unable to -“take on” aspiring amateurs, and so missed good -wagers.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You might have ‘taken me on’ for a pound or -two,” said Mr. Blount, “if you had cared to back her, -for I certainly should not have thought she could have -beaten my cob. She doesn’t seem built for trotting—does -she?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“She is a bit of a take down,” admitted Mr. -Middleton, “but I don’t bet with gentlemen as stays -in my house. Though her coat’s rough, she’s a turn -better bred than she looks. Got good blood on both -sides, and you can drive her in single or double -harness, and ride her too, as far and as fast as you -like. There’s no doubt she’s a useful animal, for you -can’t put her wrong.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You wouldn’t care to sell her?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No! I couldn’t part with her. My wife and the -children drive her. She’s so good all round, and quiet -too; and though there’s lots of horses in the district, -it’s wonderful what a time it takes to pick up a real -good one.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Quite Arab like! I was told people would sell -anything in Australia, especially horseflesh. There’s -the luncheon bell! Well, I’ve had a pleasant morning, -and even with the prospect of dinner at seven o’clock, -I feel equal to a modest meal, just to keep up the -system. It’s wonderful what an appetite I’ve had -lately.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount fed cautiously, with an eye to dinner at -no distant period. Sheila was much excited at the -idea of the Sergeant coming to dine with him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’s a splendid old chap,” said she. “Such tales -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>I used to hear about him when I was a kiddie at -school. Many a day when he’s been out after cattle-stealers, -and bushrangers, people said he’d never -come back alive. He was never afraid, though, and -he made them afraid of <em>him</em> before he was done.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“By the way, where did you go to school, Sheila? -You speak excellent English, and you haven’t any -twang or drawl, like some of the colonial girls.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! at She-oak Flat. There was a State school -there, and mother kept us at it pretty regular, rain or -shine, no staying at home, whatever the weather was -like or the roads, and we had three miles to walk, -there and back.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So you didn’t go to Melbourne, or Sydney?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No! Never been away from Bunjil. I suppose I -shall see the sea some day.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“<em>Never seen the sea—the sea?</em> You astonish me!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Never in my life. Do I look different or anything?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You look very nice, and talk very well too. I -begin to think the seaside’s overrated; but I must -take another walk, or the landlord will think I don’t -do his dinner justice. What’s it to be?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, a turkey poult for one thing; the rest you’ll -see when the covers are taken off.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Quite right. It’s impertinent curiosity, I’m aware.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! not that, but we’re going to astonish you, if -we can.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Upon this Mr. Blount put on his boots again; they -had been splashed in the morning, and required drying. -Crossing the creek upon a rustic bridge, which seemed -to depend more upon a fallen tree than on any recognised -plan of engineering, he turned his steps up -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>stream, and faced the Alpine range. The afternoon, -like the morning, was golden bright, though a hint of -frost began to be felt in the clear keen air. The road -was fairly good, and had been formed and macadamised -in needful places.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It lay between the rushing creek on one side, -towards which there was a considerable drop, and the -line of foot-hills on the other, leaving just room for -meeting vehicles to pass one another, though it needed -the accurate driving of bush experts to ensure safety. -Water-races, flumes, and open ditches crossed the road, -testifying to the existence of gold-workings in the -neighbourhood, while an occasional miner on his way to -the township of Bunjil emerged from an unfrequented -track and made towards, what was to him, the King’s -Highway. Once he heard the tinkling of bells, when -suddenly there came round a corner a train of thirty or -forty pack-horses, with all manner of sacks and bags, -and even boxes on their backs. There were a few -mules also in the drove, to whom was accorded the -privilege of leadership, as on any block or halt taking -place, they pushed their way to the front, and set off -up or down the track with decision, as if better instructed -than the rank and file.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ha! ‘Bell-horses, bell-horses, what time o’ day? -One o’clock, two o’clock, three and away,’ as we -used to say at school. Puts one in mind of -Devonshire,” murmured the tourist. “Many a keg -of smuggled spirits was carried on the backs of the -packers, with their bells. I daresay an occasional -breach of custom-house regulations has occurred -now and then if the truth were told. I wouldn’t -mind being quartered here at all. It’s a droll -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>world!” Mr. Blount’s rambles and reveries came to -an end half an hour after sunset, which just left -him time to get back to his hostelry, make some -change for dinner, and toast himself before the fire, in -anticipation of the arrival of his guest. The Sergeant -arrived with military punctuality, a few minutes -before the hour, having donned for the occasion a -well-worn, well-brushed uniform, in which he looked -like a “non-com.” recommended for the Victoria -Cross.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He greeted Sheila cordially and expressed a favourable -opinion as to her growth, and development, since -she used to play hockey and cricket with the boys at -She-oak Flat. “And right weel did she play,” he -continued, addressing himself to his entertainer, “she -won the half-mile race too, against all comers, didn’t -you, Sheila?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I was pretty smart then, wasn’t I, Sergeant? Do -you remember fishing me out of the creek, when I -slipped off the log?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I mind weel, I thocht you were a swimmer, till I -saw ye go down, head under; so I was fain to loup -into ten feet of snow water and catch a cold that was -nigh the deeth o’ me. I misdooted gin ye were -worth it a’! What think ye?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The girl shook her head at him, her dark, grey eyes -bright with merriment, as she tripped out of the room, -to reappear with the turkey poult before referred to. -“She’s a grand lassie!” said the Sergeant, looking -after her admiringly, “and as guid as she’s bonnie. -The men and women that are reared among these -hills are about the finest people the land turns out! -The women are aye the best, it’s a pity the lads are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>not always sae weel guided. If there was a Hieland -regiment here to draft some of thae lang-leggit lads -into ilka year, it would be the making of the haill -countryside.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Very likely there will be, some day, but do you -think they would stand the discipline?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Deevil a doot on’t, they’re easy guided when they -have gentlemen to deal with as offishers; as for scouting, -and outpost duty, they’re born for it. Fighting’s -just meat and drink to them, ance they get fair -started.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“English people don’t think so,” said the tourist. -“They’ve always opposed the idea of having a naval -reserve here, though everybody that’s lived in the -country long enough to know will tell me that Sydney -Harbour lads are born sailors, and if there are many -of the mountain boys like my friend ‘Little-River-Jack,’ -they should make the best light cavalry in the -world.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Sergeant bent a searching eye on the speaker. -“‘Little-River-Jack,’ ay, I ken the callant brawly. -Ride, aye, that can he, and he’s a freend, ye say?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, I came here with him. He showed me the -way, an I wouldn’t swear he didn’t save my life, coming -over that Razor-back pinch, on the Divide, as he -called it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And so ye cam’ on the Divide wi’ him, ou, ay? -And ye’re gangin’ awa’ wi’ him to see the country?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! I hear he knows every inch of it from the -head of the Sturt to the Lower Narran, besides the -mountain gold diggings. I’m going to see one of -them, with him, when he comes to-morrow. There’s -nothing strange about that, is there?”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>“I wadna say; he joost buys gold in a sma’ way, -and bullocks, for the flesher-folk, aboot the heid o’ -the river. There’s talk whiles that he’s ower sib with -the O’Hara gang, but I dinna ken o’ my ain knowledge.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not proven, I suppose—the Scottish verdict, eh! -Sergeant?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The dinner was a success. The soup was fair. The -fish represented by a Murray cod, about five pound -weight, truly excellent. The turkey poult, like most -country-bred birds, incomparably plump and tender, -was roasted to a turn. The other adjuncts in strict -keeping with the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pièce de résistance</span></i>.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The guest declined to join his entertainer in a bottle -of Reisling, preferring a glass of whisky and water. -Towards the close of the entertainment the landlord -was announced, who took neither wine nor whisky, -excusing himself on the ground that he had already -been compelled “for the good of the house” to drink -with more than one customer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I shall have to take to a decanter of toast and -water, coloured to look like sherry. This ‘What’ll -you have, Boss?’ business, is getting too hot for me -lately, and the men don’t like to see you afraid to -taste your own liquor. But, as long as it’s something, -they don’t seem to care what it is. I’ll take a cigar, -though, sir, so as to be good company.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>One of the tourist’s extra quality Flor de Habanas -being lighted the conversation grew more intimate, -and bordering on the confidential. The Sergeant was -prevailed upon to mix a tumbler of toddy, the night -being cold, and the landlord, whose tongue had been -previously loosened, among the choice spirits in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>second dining-room, incited the Sergeant to give the -company the benefit of his reminiscences.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s cold enough, and a man that came in late,” -said he, “could feel the frozen grass as stiff as wire. -But the Sergeant’s been out many a night as bad, -with nothing but his coat to sleep in, and afraid to -make a fire for fear of giving away where his camp -was.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ay!” said the Sergeant, and his face settled -into one of grim resolve, changing not suddenly, but, -as it were, stage after stage.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I mind one chase I had after an outlawed chiel -that began wi’ horse-stealing, and cattle ‘duffing’ -(they ca’ it in these parts), and ended in bloodshed -maist foul and deleeberate. Ye’ve heard of Sub-Inspector -Dayrell?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Should think I had,” said the landlord. “It was -before I took this house; I was at Beechworth then, -but every one heard of the case. He was the officer -that ‘shopped’ Ned Lawless, and a young swell -from the old country. There was a girl in it too. -Eumeralla was where he arrested them, and everybody -knew there was something ‘cronk’ about it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The verra mon! He’s gane to his accoont, and -Ned’s serving his sentence. I aye misdooted that the -evidence against Lance Trevanion (that was his name, -he cam’ of kenned folk in Devon,) was ‘cookit,’ and -weel cookit too, for his destruction, puir laddie.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then you think he was innocent?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“As innocent as the lassie that brocht in the -denner.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What sentence did he get?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Five years’ imprisonment—wi’ hard labour. But -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>he didna sairve it. He flitted frae the hulk <em>Success</em> -where they sent him after he nigh killed Warder -Bracker. He was a dour man and a cruel; he’d made -his boast that he’d ‘break’ Trevanion, as he called -it, because he couldna get him to knuckle doon to him -like ither convicts, puir craters! So he worked him -harder and harder—complained o’ him for insolence—got -him to the dark cell—once and again insulted -him when there was nae ither body to hear—and one -day gave him a kick, joost as he’d been a dog in his -road.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That was mair than enough. Clean mad and -desperate, Trevanion rushed at him, had him doon, -and him wi’ his hands in his throttle, before he could -cry on the guard. His eyes were starting out of his -head—he was black in the face and senseless, when -a warder from outside the cell who heard the scuffle, -pulled him off. Anither ten seconds, and Bracker -would have been a dead man—as it was, he was that -lang coming to, that the doctor gave him up.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What sentence did he get? They’d have hanged -him long ago?” queried the host.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He’d have got ‘life,’ or all the same twenty -years’ gaol; but Bracker had been had up for cruelty -to prisoners in another gaol before, and Mr. Melrose -the Comptroller and the Visiting Justice were dead -against a’ kinds o’ oppression, so they ordered a -thorough inquiry. Some of the prisoners swore -they’d seen Bracker knocking Trevanion about. -He’d been ‘dark-celled’ for weeks on bread and -water. When he came out he could hardly stand up. -They’d heard him swear at Trevanion and call him a -loafing impostor—and other names. The evidence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>went clear against him. Mr. McAlpine said Bracker -ought to have had a year in gaol himself, and recommended -his dismissal. So he left the service, and a -good thing too. I’m no sayin’ that some of the -convicts o’ the early fifties were not desperate deevils, -as ever stretched halter. But they were paying for -their ineequities—a high price too, when they’re lockit -up night and day, working the whiles with airn -chains on their limbs. And they that would make -<em>that</em> lot harder and heavier, had hearts like the nether -millstane.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What became of Trevanion, after all?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He was sent to the hulk <em>Success</em>. No great -relief, ane would think. But it was better than stone -walls. He had the sea and the sky around him day -and night. It made a new man of him, they say. -And before the year was oot (he had plenty -money, ye see), he dropped into a boat through the -port hole, one dark night, just before the awfullest -storm ye ever saw. Horses were waitin’ on him next -day, and ye’ll no hinder him frae winning to the New -Rush at Tin Pot Flat Omeo, where he worked as a -miner and prospector, for twa year and mair, under -the name of ‘Ballarat Harry.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Could not the police find him?” queried the -tourist. “They were said to be awfully smart in the -goldfields days.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes!” said the old Sergeant solemnly, “they did -find him, but they could do naething till him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You don’t say so! Well, this is a strange -country. He was identified, I suppose?” said the -stranger. “Why was that?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Because he was deid, puir laddie! We pulled -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>him up from a shaft saxty feet deep, wi’ a bullet -through him, and his head split with an axe. It was -Kate Lawless that found him—her husband, Larry -Trevenna and the murdering spawn o’ hell, Caleb -Coke, had slain him for his gold—and it may be for -ither reasons.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Good God! what a tragedy! Did the scoundrels -escape?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Coke did by turning King’s evidence. But -Trevenna’s wife rode near a hundred miles on end to -give Dayrell the office. He ran Trevenna down in -Melbourne, just as he had taken his passage to -England under a false name. He was found guilty, -and hanged.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then Trevenna’s wife worked the case up against -her own husband? How was that?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Weel, aweel, I’ll no deny the case was what may -be tairmed compleecated—sair mixed up. Lance -Trevanion had been her sweetheart, and when she -jaloused, owing to Dayrell’s wiles, that he had -thrown her over, she just gave the weight o’ her -evidence against him, on his trial for having a stolen -horse in his possession, knowing it to be stolen. -Then in rage and desperation, for she repented sair, -when she saw what her treachery had brought on -him, she married Trevenna, who used her like a dog, -they say, and was aye jealous of Lance Trevanion. -And her cousin Tessie Lawless, it was her that got -him frae the hulk.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! another woman!” murmured Blount; “as -you say, Sergeant, it is a trifle mixed up. Who -was she in love with?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Just Lance, and nae ither. She was true as steel, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>and never ceased working for him night and day till -she got a warder in the hulk weel bribit, and persuadit -twa gentlemen that lived in Fishermen’s Bend -by wild-fowling to tak’ him awa’ in their dinghy and -find a guide and twa horses that brought him to -Omeo. A wild, uncanny spot it was then, I warrant -ye. Then the young lady, his cousin that came frae -England to marry him—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What do I hear, Sergeant? <em>Another woman</em> in -love with the ill-fated hero; that makes <em>three</em>—in -love with the same man at the same time. It sounds -incredible. And were they <em>really</em> fond of him?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Woman’s a mysterious crea-a-tion, I’ve aye held, -since she first walkit in the gairden o’ Eden,” quoth -the Sergeant impressively. “Either of the Lawless -girls would have died for him—and gloried in it. -Kate, that was his ruin, wild and undeesciplined as she -was, but for the poison that Dayrell insteeled into -her, wad ha’ laid her head on the block to save his. -Puir Tessie <em>did</em> die for him, as ye may ca’ it, for she -went into Melbourne Hospital when the fever was at -its fiercest, and cried that they should give her the -warst cases. The puir sick diggers and sailors called -her ‘The Angel of the Fever Ward,’ and there she -wrought, and wrought, day after day, and night after -night, until she catchit it hersel’, and so the end came. -The doctors and the ither attendants said she hadna -the strength to strive against it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A jewel of a girl!” quoth the Englishman; “why -didn’t he marry her?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“She wouldn’t marry <em>him</em>,” said the Sergeant. -“She kenned he was promised to his cousin, a great -leddy frae the auld country, who came all the way to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>Australia to find him, and she said he must keep his -troth.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Women seem to differ in Australia much as they -do elsewhere,” mused the stranger.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And what for no?” queried the old trooper; -“there’s bad and good all over the world—men as -weel’s women—and the more you see of this country, -the more you’ll find it oot. If they’re born unlike -from the start, they’re as different from one another -as your cob (as ye ca’ him) frae ‘Little-River-Jack’s’ -Keewah that can climb like a goat, or from -Middleton’s auld ‘Slavey’ that can gallop twenty -miles before breakfast, or draw a buggy sixty miles -a day at a pinch. But if we get talking horse, we’ll -no quit till cockcraw.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER III</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>You</span> will tell us about Dayrell, Sergeant?” said -Mr. Blount. “Is it a tale of mystery and fear?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It was God’s judgment upon the shedding of -innocent blood,” said the Sergeant solemnly; “they’re -in their graves, the haill company, the betrayer and -the betrayed. The nicht’s turned dark and eerie. -To say truth, I wad as lieve lay the facts before ye, -in the licht o’ day. It’s a dark walk by the river -oaks, and a man may weel fancy he hears whisperings, -and voices of the deid in the midnight blast. I’m at -your sairvice ony day before ye leave Bunjil, but I’ll -be makin’ tracks the noo, wi’ your permeession, sir, -and my thanks to ye. Gude nicht!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The veteran had made up his mind, and wrapped -in a horseman’s cloak such as the paternal Government -of Victoria still serves out to the Mounted -Police Force, he marched forth into the night. The -landlord parted from him on the verandah, while -Blount walked up and down for an hour, watching a -storm-cloud whelming in gathering gloom the dimly -outlined range, until the rain fell with tropical volume -necessitating a retreat to the parlour, where the logs -still sent out a grateful warmth. “The old man must -<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>have missed that downpour,” he said. “He was wise -to depart in good time.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Another meeting was arranged. “Little-River-Jack” -sent word by a “sure hand,” as was the wording -of a missive in pre-postal days, that he would arrive -in Bunjil on the next ensuing Saturday, ready for a -daylight start on Sunday morning, if that would suit -Mr. Blount’s convenience.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Pursuant to his promise, the Sergeant arrived to -lunch at the Bunjil Hotel on the day specified. He -did not make demand for the groom, but riding into -the yard, opened the stable door and put up his -ancient steed, slipping the bridle back over his ears, -however, but leaving it ready to be replaced at short -notice.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s an auld habit o’ mine,” he said to the landlord, -who now made his appearance with apologies for the -absence of the groom, who was “out, getting a load -of wood,” he explained. “We burn a lot here in the -winter—it’s just as well we haven’t to pay for it—but -it takes old George half his time drawing it in.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ve got some fresh horses here,” said the -Sergeant, his keen eye resting on three well-conditioned -nags at one end of the row of stalls; “are -ye gaun to have races—the Bunjil Town Plate and -Publican’s Purse—and are the lads that own thae flyers -come to tak’ pairt? Yon grey’s a steeplechaser, by -his looks, and the two bays are good enough for -Flemington.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The landlord fidgeted a little before answering.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They’re some digging chaps that have a camp at -Back Creek. They buy their beef from ‘Little-River-Jack,’ -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>and he takes their gold at a price. They do a -bit of trade in brumbie-shooting now and then, the -hides sell well and the horse-hair—I’m told. Between -that and digging they knock out a fair living.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nae doot,” replied the Sergeant, slowly and -oracularly. “If there’s aught to be won by a guid -horse and a bould rider, these are the men that’ll no -lose it for want of a sweater or twa. What names -have they?” And here the old man fixed his eye -searchingly on the host.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Two O’Haras and a Rorke,” answered the host, -haltingly. “So they tell me—‘Irish natives,’ from -Gippsland way they call themselves.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I wadna doot,” quoth the Sergeant. “Eldest -brother Jemmy O’Hara, a fell chiel. But let byganes -be byganes. It’s ill raking up misdeeds of fouk that’s -maybe deid or repenting, repenting in sa-ack-cloth -and ashes. It’ll be one o’clock, joost chappit. I’ll -awa ben.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>“Ay!” said the Sergeant, lunch being cleared -away, and both men sitting before the replenished -fire, which the proximity of Bunjil to the snow line, -as well as the frost of the night before, rendered -grateful, “it’s e’en a tale of vengeance long delayed, -but the price of bluid was paid—ay, and mair than -paid, when the hour cam’, and the man. I was -stationed at Omeo, I mind weel, years after Larry -Trevenna was hangit for the crime, as well he desairved. -If one had misdooted the words of Holy Writ, there -was the confirmation plain for a’ men to see. ‘Be -sure thy sin will find thee out.’ They were half -brithers, it was weel kenned, word came frae hame to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>that effect, and little thought the author of their being -that the bairn o’ shame, the offspring of the reckless -days of wild, ungoverned youth, was born to slay the -heir of his ancient house, in a far land; to die by the -hangman’s cord, amid the curses of even that strange -crew amang whom his life was spent. But he was -fain to ‘dree his weird,’ as in auld Scottish fashion -we say; all men must fulfil their appointed destiny. -It’s a hard law maybe, and I canna agree with oor -Presbyterian elders, that ae man is foredoomed to sin -and shame, the tither to wealth and honours, and that -neither can escape the lot prepared for him frae the -foundation of the warld! But whiles, when ye see the -haill draama played oot, and a meestery made clear, -the maist careless unbeliever must acknowledge -that Heaven’s justice is done even in this warld o’ -appairent contradeections. Weel, aweel, I’m gey and -loth to come to the tale deed o’ bluid, o’ the fearsome -eend. Things had settled doon at Omeo after the -events ye ken o’. There was a wheen duffing and -horse-stealing to contend wi’! But siccan lifting of -kye will there be, amang these mountains and glens, -I had a’maist said till the Day of Judgment—but no -to be profane, the country was quieter than it had -been for years, when word came to heidquarters that -Ned Lawless had broken gaol; had been seen makin’ -across by Talbingo to the table-land, aboot Long -Plain and Lobb’s Hole. There was an ‘auld gun’ (as -we ca’ confairmed creeminals) in the lock-up, as the -news came; a Monaro native, and haun and glove -with a’ the moss-troopers and reivers south of the -Snowy River.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘D’ye know where Inspector Dayrell is now, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>Sergeant?’ says he, quite free and pleasant. He was -only in for ‘unlawfully using’—a maitter o’ six months’ -gaol at the warst.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Maybe I do, maybe I don’t; what call have ye -to be speirin’?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘He’ll never trouble me again, Sergeant, I’m full up -of anything like a big touch now; this bit of foolishness -don’t count. But if you want to do Dayrell a -rale good turn, tell him to clear out to New Zealand, -the Islands, San Francisco—anywhere.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Why should I?’ says I. ‘And him to lose his -chance of being made a Superintendent.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Superintendent be hanged!’ (it was not in Court, -ye ken), and he put his heid doon low, and spak’ low -and airnest.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Is a step in the service worth a man’s life? -You tell him from me, Monaro Joe, that if Ned Lawless -isn’t dead or taken within a month, his life’s -not worth a bent stirrup iron.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘And the Lawless crowd broken up?’ says I. -‘Man! ye’re gettin’ dotty. Ned’s a dour body, -waur after these years’ gaol. I wadna put it past -him, but he’s helpless, wantin’ mates. Coke’s a cripple -with the rheumatics. Kate’s awa, naebody kens -where.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Ye’re a good offisher, Sergeant,’ says he, ‘but -you don’t know everything. You want a year’s -duffing near Lobb’s Hole to sharpen you up. But -if I lay you on to something, will you get the -Beak to let me down easy about this sweating -racket, a bloomin’ moke, worth about two notes! I -never offered him for sale, the police know that. A -rotten screw, or I shouldn’t have been overhauled by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>that new chum Irish trooper. I was ashamed of -myself, I raly was.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘If ye give information of value to the depairtment -as regards this dangerous creeminal,’ says I, -‘I’ll no press the case.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Well—this is God’s truth,’ says he, quite solemn. -‘His sister Kate’s been livin’ at Tin Pot Flat for -months, under another name. They say she’s off her -head at times, never been right since she lost her -child.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Lost her child!’ says I. ‘Ye don’t say so—the -puir crater, and a fine boy he was. How cam’ -that?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Well, the time Kate rode to White Rock and -started Dayrell after Larry Trevenna, just as he was -goin’ to clear out for the old country, passin’ hisself -off for Lance (that <em>was</em> a caper, wasn’t it?), she left -her boy with the stockrider’s young wife at Running -Creek. The girl (she was a new chum Paddy) was -away for a bit, hangin’ out clothes or somethin’; the -poor kid got down to the creek and was drowned. -Kate was stark starin’ mad for forty-eight hours. -Then she took the kid in front of her on the little -roan mare, and never spoke till after the Coroner -come and orders it to be buried.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘And she at Tin Pot Flat, and me nane the -wiser! Any mair of the crowd?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘You remember Dick?—the young brother—he -that was left behind when they cleared for Balooka—he’s -a man grown, this years and years; well, she -lives with him. And they say she goes to the shaft -every day that Lance was hauled out from, to kneel -down and pray. What for, God only knows. Dick’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>quiet, but dangerous; he’s the best rider and tracker -from Dargo High Plain to Bourke, and that’s a -big word.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I ken that; I’ll joost ride round, and tak’ a look—he’ll -need watchin’, and if he’s joined Ned, and -Kate’s makin’ a third, there’ll be de’il’s wark ere -lang.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That evening the tent was doon, Kate and the -younger Lawless chiel gane—and nane could say -when, how, or where.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>“For a week, and the week after that, the wires -were going all day and half the nicht. Every police -station on the border of New South Wales and -Victoria from Monaro to Murray Downs was noticed -to look up their black tracker, and have their best -horses ready. As for Dayrell, they couldna warn -him that the avengers o’ bluid, as nae doot they held -themselves to be, were on his trail. He was richt -awa amang the ‘snaw leases,’ (as they ca’d them—a -country only habitable by man or beast frae late -spring to early autumn;) on the trail o’ a gang o’ -horse and cattle thieves that had defied the police of -three colonies. They had left a record in Queensland -before they crossed the New South Wales -border.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Noted men among them—ane tried for murder! -A mate, suspect o’ treachery, was found in a creek -wi’ twa bullets in’s heid—there were ither evil deeds -to accoont for.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ay, they were a dour gang—fightin’ to the -death. So Dayrell took five of his best men and -volunteered for the capture. ‘He was getting rusty,’ -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>he said, ‘but would break up this gang or they -should have his scalp.’ These were the very words -he used.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Omeo diggings were passed on the way up. -There was sure to be some one that knew <em>him</em>, -wherever he went in any of the colonies.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A tall man put his head out of a shaft on ‘Tin -Pot’ as he rode through the Flat at the head of his -troopers, and cursed him with deleeberate maleegnity -until they were out of sight. ‘Ride on, you bloody -dog!’ he said—grinding his teeth—‘you won’t reign -much longer now that Ned and I can work together -again, and we have your tracks. I know every foot -of the road you’re bound to travel now—once you’re -as far as Merrigal there’s no get away between Snowy -Creek and the Jibbo. It was our rotten luck the day -we first set eyes on you. We were not such a bad -crowd if we’d been let alone. Tessie had half persuaded -Ned to drop the cross work after we got shut -of the Balooka horses. The day afore he told me -he’d two minds to let ’em go on the road. Then he -couldn’t have been pulled for more than illegal using, -which isn’t felony. But <em>you</em> must come along and -spoil everything. Lance was copped, as innocent -as a child: Ned gets a stretch—it was his death -sentence. I know what it’s turned <em>him</em> into. Kate’s -gone mad, what with losin’ the kid—a fine little chap, -so he was (I cried when I heard of it)! Larry’s hanged—serve -him right.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Lance is dead and buried, poor chap! I don’t -know what’ll become of me. And what’s more I -don’t care; but I’ll have revenge, blast you! before -the year’s out, if I swing for it!’</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>“He didna ken Dick Lawless again in his digger’s -dress, and there were few that he didna remember -either, if it was ten years after. So he joost gaed -alang blithe and gay. The sun was abune the fog -that aye hangs o’er the flat till midday, or maybe -disna lift at a’ like a Highland mist. He touched -his horse’s rein, and the gey, weel-trained beastie -gave a dance like, and shook his heid, till bit and -curb chain jingled again.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Ah! me, these things are fearsome at the doing -and but little better in the telling. He wadna hae -been sae blithe had he seen anither face that peered -o’er the shaft just as he turned at the angle of the -road and struck into a canter with his troopers ahint -him. It was the face of a haggard, clean-shaved man, -with hair cut close to the head, and a wild, desperate -look like a hunted beast—only one miner on the field -knew who the strange man was, and he would never -have kent him, but for hearin’ a whisper the night -before of a ‘cross cove’ having come late at night to -‘Mrs. Jones’s’ tent.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Dead beat and half starved to boot was he, but -word went round the little goldfield that it was Ned -Lawless, the famous horse and cattle ‘duffer’ who’d -been arrested by Inspector Dayrell, and ‘put away’ -for five years.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Miners are no joost attached to thae kind o’ folk, -and for this one, believed to have stolen wash-dirt -cart-horses at Ballarat, they certainly had no love, but, -as for layin’ the police on the hunted wretch, even -though the reward was tempting, not a man, working -as they were on a poor field, but would have scorned -the action, and been vara unceevil to him that suggested -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>it. No! that was the business of the police—they -were paid for it—let them run him down or any -other poor devil that was ‘wanted,’ but as for helping -them by so much as raising a finger, it was not in -their line.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Anyhow, an hour before dawn, one man who had -reasons for airly rising thought he saw Dick with his -sister, ‘Mrs. Jones,’ and the stranger, ride down the -gulley which led towards Buckley’s Crossing; the -woman was on a roan pony mare, which she brought -with her when she came on ‘Tin Pot,’ a year ago. -The stranger had an old grey screw Dick had bought -for a note, which would let any one catch him, night -or day. The fog was thick, and he couldn’t say on -his oath which way they went, but they took what -was called the ‘mountain track.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A nice crowd, as they say in these parts,” said -Mr. Blount. “Where did they go and what did they -do, Sergeant?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They were ready for any de’il’s wark, ye may -believe,” said the old man, impressively, “and, as I -heard frae one that daurna speak me false, they were -no lang ere they were at it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The day after they were seen leaving ‘Tin Pot,’ -they called at a small settler’s place and took his twa -best horses. He was a man that had good anes, wad -win races at sma’ townships.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The wife and her sister were at hame, the man was -awa’.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They loaded up a packhorse with rations, more by -token a rug and twa pairs blankets. The younger -man told them the horses wad maybe stray back. -He paid for the rations and the blankets, but said -<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>they must have them. It was a lonely place. The -woman sat on her horse, and wadna come ben, though -they asked her to have a cup of tea. She shook her -head; they couldna see her face for a thick veil -she wore.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This information didna come in for some days -later, when the man won hame; the women were -afraid to leave the place, ye may weel believe. The -raiders rode hard, maistly at nicht, keepit aff the main -road, and took ‘cuts’ when they could find them. -Dick Lawless knew them a’, could amaist smell them, -his mates used to say.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They got the Inspector’s trail and never lost it; if -they were off it for a while, they could always ‘cut’ -it again. <em>They</em> had telegraphs plenty (bush anes) but -there were nane to warn Dayrell o’ them that thirsted -for his life-bluid, and were following on through the -snaw, like the wolves on a Russian steppe, as the -buiks tell us. He was joost ‘fey,’ in the high spirits -that foretell death or misfortune, as we Hielanders -believe. He had the chance o’ a capture that would -ring through three colonies. It did that, but no in -the way he expeckit.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He heard tell frae a bushman, a brither o’ the man -that the gang shot before he had time to do more -than threaten to ‘give them away,’ that they were to -be at the ‘Ghost Camp’ aboot the twentieth o’ the -month. An auld fastness this, at the edge o’ broken, -mountainous country, where the wild blacks cam’ to -hide after killing cattle or robbing huts, when Queensland -was first ta’en up by squatters. A place no that -easy to ride to, maist deeficult to discover, amang the -great mountain forests o’ the border. Battles had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>there been, between the black police and the wild -native tribes that were strong and bold in the pioneer -days, no kenning, puir bodies, the strength o’ ceevilised -man. It was there they halted after the massacre of -Wild Honey Bank, where they killed after nightfa’ -the haill family, men and women, wives and weans, an -awfu’ spectacle they were as they lay deid in the hot -sun, unshaded, uncovered. I was tauld it by a man, -was ane of the pairty that helped bury them. The -pursuers slew and spared not. Wha shall judge -them after the fearsome sights they saw? There’s -but few of that tribe left alive, and sma’ wonder.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“An eerie, waesome spot, they tell me. The gunyahs -hae na been leeved in this mony a year. The few -fra-agments o’ the tribe conseeder it to be haunted, -and winna gang near. It’s a’ strewed wi’ skulls, and -skeletons of whites and blacks mingled, nane having -been at the pains to bury them. The grass grows -rank abune the mouldering relics o’ baith races. The -banes gleam white when the moon is at her full, -lying matted thegither amaist concealed by the -growth of years.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>“Weel, aweel! I’m just daundering on toward the -eend, the sair, sorrowfu’ eending o’ a fearsome tale. The -twa pairties, that wad be the Queensland gang, and -the Sydney-side lot, were nigh hand to the ‘Ghost -Camp’ aboot the same time.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s sayin’ the three Lawless bodies had ridden -night and day—picking up fresh horses for the men, -as they came along. Kate rode the roan pony mare -all through, a grand little crater she was, and weel -she earned her name ‘Wallaby,’ sae ca’ed after the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>kangaroo beastie that wad hop frae rock to rock, like -ony goat o’ the cliffs.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The Inspector reckoned that Bradfield’s gang wad -show up in the gloaming o’ the appointed day. No -kenning that they had been betrayed, they wad camp -careless like. Dayrell’s tracker creepit oot and lay -ahint a rock while they unsaiddled and turned loose -their horses. Bradfield he knew—a tall powerfu’ -chiel, with a big beard, a Sydney-side native, and if -he wasna the best bushman in Queensland, he wasna -that far aff. Of the four men with him, twa had -‘done time,’ and were worse after they cam’ oot o’ -gaol, than when they gaed in. They had grog in -them; they made a fire—not a black fellow’s one—and -talked and laughed and swore, as they didna care -wha might hear them.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So far, a’ went weel. Dayrell’s party lay close—made -no fire—prepared to deleever attack at dawn, -when dootless Bradfield’s men wad be asleep or all -unsuspeecious. But were they? By no manner of -means. The twa Lawless brithers and Kate had won -to Wandong Creek i’ the nicht—Ned and Kate had -lain them doon, joost dead beat and like to dee wi’ -sheer exhaustion. Dick stowed the horse away in the -gulley. It’s deep, and amaist covered in wi’ trees and -fern. Then being a tireless crater and in hard work -and training, he thocht he would tak’ a wee bit look -oot, to make a’ safe. It was weel thocht on—though -not for the police party. It wasna lang ere he -heard a horse whinnie. Not the nicher o’ a brumbie, -either. Then cam’ the tramp o’ anither and the jingle -o’ a hobble chain. Could it be the police? He would -soon know. Creeping frae tree to tree, he came on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>the mob. Six riding horses, and two ‘packers’ all with -the Crown brand on. Dayrell’s dark chestnut, he -knew <em>him</em> again. And a light bay with two white -hind fetlocks. Police horses all, well fed and groomed. -Now where was the camp?</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Keeping wide and crawling from log to log, like a -night-wandering crater o’ the forest, he thought he -saw a glimmer o’ a fire—not a small one either. -What d—d fool had lighted that, with a hot trail so -close? So he walkit, ye ken, till what suld ail him -to come ram-sham on six sleeping men. Police in -plain clothes? Never! It was Bradfield’s gang, -believing that Dayrell was no within a colony o’ them. -And now to get speech. Their revolvers were under -their hands, their rifles handy ye ken. If an -alarm was given it might spoil the whole plan. With -two other rifles, not counting Kate (and she was a -fair shot at short range), they might turn the tables -on Dayrell and his blasted police.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Keen and ready witted as are the de’il’s bairns at -their master’s wark, Dick Lawless wasna lang in -conseedering the pairt he was to play. Crawling on -hands and knees, he got as near Bradfield as was -wise like without awaking him. He then gave a low -whistle, such as stockriders give to tell of cattle in -sight.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Who the hell’s that?’ growled Bradfield, awake -and alert.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘All right, Jim, only Dick Lawless. Cattle going -to break camp. (They had been droving in old days.) -Quite like old times, isn’t it?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Wish I was back again behind a thousand -Windorah bullocks,’ said the bushranger.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>“‘I wouldn’t mind either, Jim. But all that’s behind -us now—worse luck! Where do you think Dayrell -is? Give it up? D’ye see that black ridge, with -three pines on it? Well, he’s there, waiting for daylight. -<em>He’s</em> not fool to make a fire you can see miles -off. You’ve nearly been had, Jim. He came up on -purpose to collar you. T’other side the black ridge, -he’s planted men and horses, six of ’em and a packer.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Who’s with you?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Just Ned and Kate. They’re lying down in -Wandong Creek. Kate’s goin’ dotty now, poor thing, -but she would come with us. Thinks she’ll see the -last of Dayrell.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Strikes me it’s a case of “Just before the battle, -mother,”’ said Bradfield. ‘I’ll wake these chaps. We -must have a snack and fix up the Waterloo business. -It’s an hour to daylight yet.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Thus speaking he touched the man on his left, who -awoke and touched the next. Without a spoken word -the five men were aroused.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Now, chaps!’ said the leader, in low but distinct -tones, ‘Dick Lawless is come to give in the office. -He’s on the job too. Dayrell’s behind the black ridge, -with his five fancy troopers. He’s come to collar us. -Dick here and Ned have come to pay off old scores. -With us to help he’s like enough to do it. We’re nigh -about equal members, not countin’ Kate, but the -surprise they’ll get’s as good as two men.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘How’s that?’ asked one of the gang.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘It’s this way, we’ll have first go. He thinks we -don’t know he’s here. We’ll take cover, and as soon -as he shows out to surprise us, we roll into him. Dick -here, Ned and Kate, go at him from Wandong Creek -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>side. That’ll put the stuns on him. Ned and Dick, both -dead shots, will account for Dayrell. If he goes down -the other traps won’t stand long. Dick, you’ll have a -snack? No? Then, so long.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The faint line of clearer sky was slowly making -itself veesible in the east as Dayrell at the head of his -troopers moved towards Bradfield’s camp. The black -tracker had showed him the position. The glimmering -fire did the rest. ‘Now for a rush, men, we’ll -catch them asleep.’ Saddles and swags were strewn -around the fire, billy and frying-pan were there, not a -man to be seen. But from five rifles at short range -came a volley at the troopers, well-aimed and effective, -and Dayrell’s right arm fell to his side broken or disabled.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Three shots immediately followed from the Wandong -Creek timber, on the left flank of the police. Confused -at finding themselves between two fires, their -leader wounded—for Dayrell’s right arm still hung -useless—the troopers, after a second ineffectual volley, -wavered. Just then three figures appeared, standing -on a rock which ran crossways to the narrow -outlet by which alone could the police party mak’ -retreat.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“At the second volley two troopers dropped, one -mortally, the other severely, wounded. ‘Hold up -your hands, if you don’t all want to be wiped out,’ -shouted Bradfield.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘By the Lord! that’s Kate Lawless,’ said one of -the troopers, pointing to a tall woman who waved a -rifle and shouted defiance after the first volley was -fired.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘And that’s Ned, or his ghost,’ said another. ‘I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>thought he was safe in Ballarat Gaol. How the h—l -did they get here?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“As he spoke, the two men on the rock took deliberate -aim and fired, the Inspector in return firing his -revolver with the left hand.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The clean-shaved man dropped dead, wi’ a bullet -through his head; Dayrell staggered for a few seconds -and making an attempt to recover himself, sank to the -earth. The woman sprang down from the rock, and -rushing across the line of fire raised the dying man’s -head from the ground and gazed into his face, in -which the signs of fast-coming death were apparent.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘So this is the end of Inspector Frank Dayrell,’ -she said, ‘trapped like a dingo by the poor devils he -was hunting down. I told you you’d repent it, if you -didn’t let <em>us</em> alone. And now my words have come -true; the Lawless family gang’s broke up, but the -bloodhound hasn’t much life in him neither. I sha’n’t -last the year out, the old lot’s close up dead and done -for, that was so jolly, and worked hard and straight, -when we first came on Ballarat. Pity we took to -‘cross’ work, wasn’t it? Love—as they call it—’ -here she smiled a strange, sad smile, ‘then jealousy, -revenge, false swearing, murder—Poor Lance! I <em>did</em> -him cruel wrong, and but for you, you, Francis -Dayrell, I’d never have sworn a word to harm him. -It’s driven me mad—mad! do you hear, Frank -Dayrell? Good-bye, till we meet in—in—the other -place!’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The firing was o’er, Dick Lawless now showed himself -between the rock and the clear space where lay the -dead trooper and Dayrell. The Inspector raised himself -on one arm and with the last glimmer o’licht in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>his glazing e’en, looked full in the woman’s face, as he -drawled out the words, ‘Au revoir! Kate, pleasant -journey, inner circle of mine with the left, eh?’ The -light faded out of his eyes with the last word, and -falling back, he was dead when his head touched the -ground. The woman gazed for one moment on the -still face; then in obedience to a sign from her -brother, walkit over to him, and, mounting their -horses, they rode away into the forest thegither. The -police couldna but see they were ootnummered. Their -leader and one trooper dead; anither was badly -wounded. Four men—one barely able to sit on a horse—were -no match for six.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘See here, men,’ said Bradfield, a tall, powerful -native chiel wi’ a black beard, a grand bushman, -too; ‘this here battle’s over, you’re euchred, your -boss expected to catch us on the hop, and he’s been -took himself. He was a game chap, and we don’t -owe him no grudge, nor you either, though he went -a bit out of his way in leavin’ his own district to -collar another officer’s game. He didn’t reckon -on Ned and Dick Lawless, and it’s them that -knocked over his wicket. A fair fight’s righto, -but it don’t do even for a policeman to get hisself -disliked.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I say, Jim, the horses are up; are yer goin’ to -preach here till the military’s called out?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘All right, Jack, there’s no hurry. What’s to be -done with the dead men? There’s Inspector Dayrell, -our poor cove, and Ned Lawless. We can’t leave -’em here.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘The police must pack their mates,’ said the -second in command, ‘we’ll take away ours. Where’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>the nearest township, or graveyard, if it comes to -that?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘We can make Warradombee in twenty mile’; -here spoke one of the police troopers. ‘It’s close -to Grant’s head station.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘All right, you’ve got your packers; strap on the -Inspector, and that Goulburn native, and let ’em -be buried decent. We’re not black fellows. We’ll -carry our man, and bury him first chance. Ned -must stay where he is—he’s better there than under -the gaol yard. Like as not Dick and Kate’ll come -back to him. They’ve not gone far. Well, you’d -better load, and clear—we’ll give you a lift, as you’re -short handed. Don’t sing a bigger song than you -can help. Give us a day’s law, and then we don’t -care what you do. We haven’t acted so bad to -you.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘No, by George, you haven’t,’ said the senior -constable, ‘except killin’ the two of us, and you -couldn’t help that, seein’ you was fightin’ for your -lives, as the sayin’ is.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So the enemies (as I’m tauld) helped to raise the -fallen men, and fasten them on their horses. It was -a sad-looking troop, as they moved off, with their -dead legs tied underneath, and at the knees, to the -saddles, their heads bowed low on the horses’ necks, -so that they couldna fall off. But the upper bodies, -with heids swaying aboot in that dreadful guise, -lookit awfu’ ghaistly. Little thocht Frank Dayrell -that he wad ride his last ride in siccan a fashion. -But nane can foretell his eend, nor the manner o’t.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Bradfield’s lot cleared without loss o’ time, carrying -with them their dead and wounded, until a convenient -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>burial place was reached. This duty completed, they -separated, to meet in the ‘Never Never Country,’ -between Burke Town and ‘The Gulf,’ a ‘strange, -vain land’ (as one has written) where ‘night is even -as the day,’ and the decalogue is no that sariously -regairded, as in longer settled communities.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Although the tither ootlaws wadna chairge themselves -with Ned Lawless’ funeral, it is no’ to be -infaired that he was buried without a prayer, or that -tears werena shed o’er his lonely unhallowed grave. -As had been surmeesed, Kate and the younger -brother returned after nightfall.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It was nearly midnight, the moonrays lighted up -the weird shadows of the ‘Ghost Camp,’ lately -throbbing wi’ gunshots, oaths, cries and exclamations. -Blood had been shed; life had been taken; now all -was still and deserted looking.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Tribe had met tribe in the old, old days, and with -spear-thrust, nulla nulla and boomerang, had fought -oot their conflicts, waged for pride, ambition or -revenge. And always to the bitter end! Then -came the white invader, with his iron axes, fine -clothes and magical weapons, which slew before they -touched. The sheep and cattle, such delicate morsels -but which except a price was paid, too often that o’ -bluid—they dared na’ take. Battles then were fought -in which their bravest warriors fell; or if by chance -they slew stockrider or shepherd, a sair harryin’ o’ -the tribe followed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Those days were past; and now, how strange to -the elders of the tribe, the white strangers fought -amang themselves, wounding, killing, and carrying -away captive their brithers in colour and speech. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>These things were hard to understand. The rays -of the lately risen moon lit up the sombre glades -of the battlefield as a man and woman rode in frae -the forest track, and tied up their horses. They -came to the rock where the dead man lay. He had -fallen back when Dayrell’s bullet pierced his brain, -and was lying with upturned face and dreadful -staring eyes. The woman knelt by his side, and -while she closed them, said, ‘Poor old Ned! I never -thought to lay you out in a place like this. God’s -curse on them that drove you to it; but <em>he’s</em> gone -that we have to thank for our ruin; that debt’s paid, -anyhow! You were always a soft-hearted chap, and -none of us, when we were little, had a hard time -with you. Not like some brothers, who’d knock -about the poor kiddies as if they were dingo pups.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I’ve nothing to say agen him,’ said the man, ‘he -was always good to me, I’d ’a done anything for him. -It’s hard to see him here lying dead, and with that -infernal prison crop, not even a beard on his face, and -what a jolly one he used to have. Here’s where the -irons hurt him; I expect he tried to break out afore, -and they made him work in these.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘My God!’ cried the woman, passionately; ‘don’t -talk of it any more. I shall scream out directly, and -go more off my head than I am now, and that’s bad -enough. To think of him that used to come out of a -morning so fresh and jolly, well dressed, and always -with a good horse under him, and couldn’t he ride? -And now to see him lying here, starved and miserable, -like a beggar; it’s enough to break a heart of -stone—’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘It’s too late now, Kate, too late; but we’d better -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>have taken Tessie’s warning and started a square -trade, carrying or something, when the digging broke -out,’ said the man. ‘We were all strong and full of -go. I could do a man’s work, young as I was; the -money would have run into our pockets—yes, regular -run in—if we’d made a square start and stuck to it. -Look at Benson and Warner, see where they are -now! They couldn’t read and write neither, no more -than us. Then there was that infernal Larry -Trevenna. Poor Lance! I <em>was</em> sorry for him. They -did us all the harm in the world; Larry with his -gambling ways, and Lance setting you up to think -you were good enough to marry him, and putting -Dayrell’s back up agen the family. Our luck was -dead out from start to finish, and now they’re all gone -except you and me. I’d better set about the grave.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Where’d ye get the pick and shovel?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Some fossicker left them outside his camp. I saw -them when I went to the spring for a drink.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘For God’s sake take them back, no use making -more enemies than we can help. There’ll be a row if -he misses ’em!’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘All right! I’ll drop them as we pass,’ said her -brother, as he drove the pick into the hard, stony soil.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The woman took the short mining shovel, and with -feverish energy cleared the narrow shaft as often as -required. An hour’s work showed a cavity of the -necessary width and depth, wherein the brother and -sister laid the wasted body of the eldest son of the -family—once its pride as the best horseman, shearer, -reaper, cricketer, stockrider, and all-round athlete of -the highland district of New South Wales. The pity -of it, when misdirected energies hurry the men along -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>the fiend’s highway, leading to a felon’s doom, a -dishonoured grave!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The pity of it! The man now lowered into the -rude sepulchre, amid that ill-omened, blood-stained -wild, might, under happier circumstances, and at a -later day, have been receiving the plaudits of his -countrymen, the thanks of his Sovereign, as the fearless, -resourceful scout, whose watchful eye had saved -a squadron, or whose stubborn courage had helped to -block an advance until the reinforcement came up.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It was not to be. Sadly and silently, but for the -exclamation of ‘Poor Ned! good-bye! God have -mercy on your soul!’ from the woman, the brother -and sister rode away into the night.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A rude cross had been fashioned and placed in a -cairn of stones piled upon the grave. ‘The moonbeam -strook, and deepest night fell down upon the heath’ -as the hoofstrokes died away in the distance, deepening -the sombre solitude of the spot, which had long worn -the appearance of a place accursed of God and man!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The far back, and by no means busy township of -Dumbool was, if not enlivened, aroused from its -normal apathy (when a race meeting, or a shearer’s -carouse was not in full operation), by the return of a -party of mounted police. The leading inhabitants, -always well informed in such matters, had received -notice of them passing through the district, heading -towards the border. The township was not so insignificant -or the two hotels so unimportant, as not to -provide “Our Own Correspondent” of the <cite>Weekly -Newsletter</cite>. This gentleman, who was Rabbit -Inspector, Acting Clerk of the Bench, Coroner, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>Honorary Magistrate, held all the minor appointments, -not incompatible with the ends of justice, and -the dignity of the Post Office, of which he was the -present acting head, the Government Official of the -branch being away on leave. He performed these -various duties fairly well, delegating the Postal work -to the leading storekeeper, and the Bench work to a -neighbouring squatter, who, coached by the senior -constable, was capable of getting through a committal -without blundering. But the work of Special Correspondent -was the one which he really enjoyed, and on -which he chiefly prided himself.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He had often murmured at the poverty of the -journalistic resources of his surroundings, which -afforded no field for literary ability. Even when -Nature seemed kindly disposed, by reason of abnormal -conditions, he was restricted in efforts to improve the -occasion by the vigorously expressed local censorship -of the pastoralists. Did he draw a harrowing picture -of the stricken waste, denuded of pasture, and strewn -with dead and dying flocks, and herds, every one was -“down on him,” as he expressed it, for taking away -the character of the district. Did he dilate on the vast -prairies waving with luxuriant herbage, after a phenomenal -rainfall, he was abused as “inviting every -blooming free-selector in the colony to come out and -make a chess-board of their runs, directly they had a -little grass.” There was no pleasing them. Even the -editor of the <cite>Weekly Clarion</cite>, mindful of influential -subscribers, had admonished him to be careful in good -seasons, as well as bad.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He was at his wits’ end, between the agricultural -Scylla, and the pastoral Charybdis, so to speak. It -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>may be imagined with what gratitude he hailed the -“Tragedy of Ghost Camp,” as his headline described -it, in which he was likely to offend nobody excepting -the Police Department, for whose feelings his public -had no great consideration.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Extract from the <cite>Weekly Newsletter and Down -River Advertiser</cite>.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It is long since the site of this celebrated locality, -once notorious for tribal fights, and dark deeds of -revenge, not always stopping at cold-blooded murder, -if old tales be true, has resounded with the echo of -rifle shots, the oaths of the victors, the groans of the -dying! Yet such has lately been the case. But a -few days since a deed of blood, of long-delayed vengeance, -has been enacted, recalling the more lurid -incidents of pioneer days.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We had received information of the passing of -Inspector Francis Dayrell, with a party of picked -troopers, on a back track, running parallel to our -main stock route. They carried a light camp equipment, -not halting at stations or townships and -apparently desirous to avoid observation. We have -in another place expressed our disapproval of this -practice, holding that the ends of justice are better -served by forwarding information to the local press. -Had that been done in the present case, the fatal finale -might have been averted.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Be that as it may, the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">cortège</span></i> that was descried -approaching our principal street at an early hour this -morning, presented a very different appearance from -that of the well-accoutred police party that our informant -noticed but two days earlier heading for the broken -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>mountainous country at the head of the Wandong -Creek. The troopers detailed for this dangerous -service were led by that well-known, and, we may say, -dreaded police officer, the late Inspector Francis -Dayrell, the greatest daredevil, the most determined -officer of the Victorian Mounted Police.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It was quickly noted by a sharp-eyed bushman, -in the neighbourhood of Host Parley’s well-kept and -commodious hotel, which commands the approach to -our township from the north-east, that something was -wrong with the body of police now approaching the -town at a funeral pace.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The trooper who rode in front led Inspector -Dayrell’s well-known charger, a matchless hackney, -perfect in the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">manège</span></i> in which all troop horses are -trained. The inspector was badly wounded and -nearly insensible, from the manner in which he bowed -himself on the horse’s neck, while he swayed helplessly -in the saddle. The second trooper also led a -horse on which was a wounded man. Behind rode -two men, one evidently so badly hurt, that he sat his -horse with difficulty.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘They’ve been cut up bad,’ said one of the bushmen. -‘Let’s ride up and meet ’em, Jack!’ Two -men waiting for the mail mounted their horses, and -met the little party; from which, after a word or two -with the Sergeant, they came back full speed to the -hotel, and thus imparted the melancholy news.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Police had a brush with Bradfield’s gang from -Queensland, as they thought they were going to take. -Some other chaps had joined them along with Dick -Lawless, and double-banked ’em. Dayrell’s killed, -and a trooper—they’re the two first; Doolan’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>wounded bad. The Sergeant wants a room to put -the dead men in till the Coroner’s inquest’s held; -he’ll have ’em buried as soon as it’s over.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Great excitement was naturally evoked by this -statement.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“In a few minutes the police arrived at the Hotel, -where they were met by Mr. Clarkson, J.P., who -obligingly undertook all necessary arrangements. -The Inspector and the dead trooper were laid side -by side in the best bedroom, the landlord resenting -a suggestion to place the corpses in an outhouse—‘He’d -have had the best room in the house if he was -alive. He always paid like a prince, and I’m not -going to treat him disrespectful now he’s been killed -in the discharge of his duty. Them as don’t care -about sleeping there after him and poor Mick -Donnelly, may go somewheres else. They’ll be buried -decent from <em>my</em> house, anyway.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The Coroner impanelled a jury without unnecessary -delay; and after the Sergeant and his men had -necessary rest and refreshment, that official elicited -evidence which enabled him to record a verdict of -‘Wilful murder against Edward James Bradfield and -Richard Lawless in the cases of Inspector Francis -Dayrell of the Victorian Mounted Police Force, and -trooper Michael Joseph Donnelly, then and there -lying dead.’ This formality concluded, preparations -were made for the funeral to take place next morning -in the graveyard appertaining to the township, which -already held a number of occupants, large in -proportion to the population.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Word had been sent to the neighbouring stations, -so that by noon—the hour appointed—nearly as large -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>a concourse as at the annual race meeting had -assembled. There being no resident clergyman, the -service was read over both men by the Coroner, who, -by the way in which he performed the duty, showed -that he was not new to this sad ceremony. We -have repeatedly urged upon the Government the -necessity of providing increased police protection for -this important and scantily defended district. May -we trust now that local wants will be more promptly -attended to.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The last offices being paid to the dead the -surviving troopers rode slowly away leading the spare -horses, and bearing the arms and effects of their -comrades with them.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Kate Lawless and her brother had disappeared. -Whether they had made for the farthest out settled -districts of Queensland, or had found a hiding place -nearer home, was not known, though rumours to -either effect gained circulation.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And noo ye hae the haill history o’ Frank Dayrell, -late Inspector o’ the Mounted Police Force o’ Victoria, -no forgetting the death of Ned Lawless, who died by -his hand.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And, as the sun’s low, and we’ve, I winna say -wasted the afternoon—maybe expended wad be a -mair wise-like expression—I’ll just say good e’en to -you, gentlemen, and gae me ways hame. The nicht’s -for frost, I’m thinkin’,” and so saying, the worthy -Sergeant declining further refreshment marched off -along the meadow.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>An early breakfast next morning, in fact, before -the frost was off the ground, awaited Mr. Blount. In -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>some inns it would have been a comfortless repast; -a half-lighted fire struggling against a pile of damp -wood, and producing more smoke than heat; a -grumbling man cook, not too clean of aspect, who -required to know “why the blank people wanted -their grub cooked by candlelight,” and so on—“he’d -see ’em blanked first, if there was any more of this -bloomin’ rot.” Such reflections the guest has been -favoured with, in the “good old days,” before the -gold had settled down to a reasonable basis of supply -and demand, and the labour question—as it did -subsequently—had regulated itself. Waiting, too, -for half an hour longer than was necessary for your -hackney to eat his oats.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Far otherwise was the bounteous, well-served -repast which sent forth Blount in fit order and condition -to do his journey creditably, or to perform any -feats of endurance which the day’s work might exact.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sheila had been up and about long before daylight. -She had consulted the favoured guest through -his chamber door, as to which of the appetising list -of viands he would prefer, and when the adventurous -knight sallied forth in full war paint, he found a good -fire and a tempting meal awaiting him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I tell you what, Sheila,” he said, regarding that -praiseworthy maiden with an approving smile, “this -is all very fine and you ought to get a prize at the -next Agricultural Show, for turning out such a breakfast, -but how am I to face burnt steak and sodden -damper at the diggers’ camp to-morrow morning?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The girl looked at him earnestly for a moment or -two without speaking, and then with an air of half -warning, half disapproval, said, “Well—if you ask me, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>sir, the cooking’s not the worst of it in those sort of -places, and I can’t see for my part why a gentleman -like you wants going there at all. They’re very queer -people at the head of the river, and they do say that -the less you have to do with them the better.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But I suppose there <em>are</em> all sorts of queer characters -in this new country of yours. I didn’t come from -England to lead a feather-bed life. I’ve made up my -mind to see the bush, the goldfields, and all the wild -life I could come across, and I suppose Mr. Little-River-Jack -is about the cleverest guide I could have.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well—ye—es! he’s <em>clever</em> enough, but there <em>are</em> -yarns about him. I don’t like to tell all I’ve heard, -because, of course, it mightn’t be true. Still, if I were -you, sir, I’d keep a sharp look out, and if you spotted -anything that didn’t look square, make some excuse -and clear.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But, my dear girl, what <em>is</em> there to watch? Do -he and his friends steal cattle or rob miners of their -gold? Any highway business? Why can’t you speak -out? I see you’re anxious lest I should get into a -scrape; on account of my innocence, isn’t that it? -And very kind of you it is. I won’t forget it, I -promise you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I can’t say any more,” said the girl, evidently confused. -“But be a bit careful, for God’s sake, and don’t -take all you’re told for gospel;” after which deliverance -she left the room abruptly and did not appear when -Mr. Blount and his guide, both mounted, were moving -off. They were in high spirits, and the cob dancing -with eagerness to get away. As they left the main -road at an angle, Blount looked back to the hotel towards -a window from which the girl was looking out. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>Her features wore a grave and anxious expression, -and she shook her head with an air, as it seemed to -him, of disapproval.</p> - -<p class='c008'>This byplay was unobserved by his companion, -who was apparently scrutinising with concentrated -attention the track on which he had turned.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Throwing off all misgivings, and exhilarated by the -loveliness of the weather, which in that locality always -succeeds a night of frost, he gave himself up to an unaffected -admiration of the woodland scene. The sun -now nearly an hour high had dispelled the mists, -which lay upon the river meadows, and brought down -in glittering drops the frost jewels sparkling on every -bush and branch.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The sky of brightest blue was absolutely cloudless, -the air keen and bracing; wonderfully dry and -stimulating. The grass waved amid their horses’ feet. -The forest, entirely composed of evergreens, from the -tallest eucalypt, a hundred feet to the first branch, to -the low-growing banksia, though partly sombre, was -yet relieved by an occasional cypress, or sterentia. -The view was grand, and apparently illimitable, from -the high tableland which they soon reached. Range -after range of snow-clad mountains reared their vast -forms to the eastward, while beyond them again came -into view a new and complete mountain world, in -which companies of snow peaks and the shoulders of -yet loftier tiers of mountains were distinctly, if faintly, -visible. What passes, what fastnesses, what well-nigh -undiscoverable hiding-places, Blount thought, might -not be available amid these highlands for refugees -from justice—for the transaction of secret or illegal -practices!</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>He was aroused from such a reverie by the cheery -voice of his companion, who evidently was not minded -to enjoy the beauty of the morning, or the mysterious -expanse of the landscape in silence. “Great country -this, Mr. Blount!” he exclaimed, with patronising -appreciation. “Pity we haven’t a few more men and -women to the square mile. There’s work and payin’ -occupation within sight”—here he waved his hand—“for -a hundred years to come, if it was stocked the -right way. Good soil, regular rainfall, timber, water -no end, a bit coldish in winter; but look at Scotland, -and see the men and women it turns out! I’d like to -be Governor for ten years. What a place I’d make -of it!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And what’s the reason you people of Australia, -natives of the soil, and so on, can’t do it for yourselves, -without nobles, King or Kaiser—you’ve none -of <em>them</em> to blame?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Haven’t we? We’ve too many by a dashed -sight, and that’s the reason we can’t get on. They -call them Members of Parliament here, and they do -nothing but talk, talk, talk.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! I see; but they’re elected by the people, for -the people, and so on. The people—you and your -friends, that is—must have been fools to elect them. -Isn’t that so?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Of course it is. And this is how it comes; there’s -always a lot of fellers that like talking better than -work. They palaver the real workers, who do all the -graft, and carry the load, and once they’re in Parliament -and get their six pound a week it’s good-bye to -honest work for the rest of their lives. It’s a deal -easier to reel out any kind of rot by the yard than it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>is to make boots and shoes, or do carpentering, or -blacksmith’s work.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“H—m! should say it was. Never tried either -myself; but when they get into Parliament don’t they -do anything?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, in a sort of way, but they’re dashed slow -about it. Half the time, every law has to be altered -and patched and undone again. They’re in no hurry, -bless you!—they’re not paid by the job; so the longer -they are about it the more pay and ‘exes’ they rake -in.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What’s wrong with the law about this particular -neighbourhood?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, they’re allowed to take up too much land -for one thing. I wouldn’t give more than a hundred -acres, if I had my way, to any selector,” said this -vigorous reformer. “The soil’s rich, the rainfall’s -certain, and the water-supply’s everlastin’. What’s -wanted is labour—men and women, that means. It’ll -grow anything, and if they’d keep to fruit, root crops, -and artificial grasses, they could smother theirselves -with produce in a year or two. Irrigate besides. -See that race? You can lead water anywhere you -like in this district.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, why don’t they? One would think they -could see the profit in it. Here it is, under their feet.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s this way; a man with a couple of thousand -acres can keep a flock of sheep. They don’t do extra -well, but they grow a fleece once a year, and when -wool’s a decent price the family can live on it—with -the help of poultry, eggs and bacon, and chops now -and then. It’s a poor life, and only just keeps them—hand -to mouth, as it were.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>“Still, they’re independent.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! independent enough—the ragged girls won’t -go out to service. The boys loaf about on horseback -and smoke half the time. If they had only a hundred -acres or so, they couldn’t pretend to be squatters. -The men would dig more and plough more, the -greater part of the area would be cultivated, they -could feed their cows in winter (which <em>is</em> long and -cold in these parts), fatten pigs, have an orchard (look -at the apple-trees at the last place we passed), do -themselves real well, and have money in the bank as -well.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We must have a republic, and make you first -Dictator, I see that. Now, where does this tremendous -ravine lead to?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It leads through Wild Horse Gully, down to the -Dark River—we’d better get off and walk the next -mile or two—there’s a big climb further on.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I shouldn’t wonder,” said the traveller. “How -wild horses or any other travel about here, astonishes -me. Where do they come from? There were -none in Australia when the first people came, I -suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not a hoof. They’ve all been bred up from the -stray horses that got away from the stations, long -ago. They’re in thousands among these mountains. -It takes the squatters at the heads of the rivers all -their time to keep them under.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do they do much harm?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, yes, a lot. They eat too much grass for -one thing, and spoil more than they eat, galloping -about. Then they run off the station horses, -especially the mares. Once they join the wild -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>mob, they’re never seen again. Get shot by mistake, -too, now and again.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why! do they shoot horses here?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Shoot ’em, of course! The hides and hair fetch -a fairish price. Some men live by it. They make -trap yards, and get as many as a hundred at a time. -The squatters shoot them now and again, and pay -men to do it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It seems a pity. A horse is a fine animal, wild or -tame, but I suppose they can’t be allowed to over-run -the country.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Wild Horse Gully, down which they were -proceeding at a slow and cautious pace, was a -tortuous and narrow pathway, hemmed in by rugged -precipitous mountain sides. From its nature it was -impracticable for wheeled vehicles, but the tracks of -horses and cattle were recent and deeply indented. -These his companion scrutinised with more than -ordinary care. The horse tracks were in nearly all -instances those of unshod animals, but as he pointed -out, there were two sets of recent imprints on the -damp red loam, of which the sharp edges and nail -heads told of the blacksmith’s shop as plainly as if a -printed notice had been nailed to one of the adjacent -tree trunks; also that a dozen heavy cattle had gone -along in front of them at rather a fast pace. These -last had come in on a side track, their sliding trail -down the face of the mountain showing plainly how -they had arrived, and, as nearly as possible, to the -experienced eye of one horseman, at what hour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The day had been tedious, even monotonous, the -pace necessarily slow; the chill air of evening was -beginning to be felt, when the bushman, with a sigh -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>of relief, pointed to a thin wreath of smoke. On an -open, half-cleared spot, a hut built of horizontal logs -was dimly visible; a narrow eager streamlet ran close -to the rude dwelling, while at their approach a pair -of cattle dogs began to bark as they walked in a -menacing manner towards the intruders.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER IV</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>Down</span>, Jerry! Down, Driver!” said the bushman, -“that’ll do, you’re making row enough to -frighten all the cattle in the country.” By this -time the guardians of the outpost had left off their -clamour, and one of them, by jumping up and -fawning on Blount, showed that he had gained their -friendship. The older dog, not so demonstrative, -had stains of blood on his mouth and chest. “Ha! -Driver, you old villain, been behind those cattle -yesterday? Now lie down, and let’s see if we can -raise a fire and get some tea under weigh, before the -boys come in.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>After unsaddling, and turning out their horses, -they entered the hut, which, though not differing -materially from the bush structures which Blount had -already visited, was seen to be neater than usual in -the internal arrangements. “Little-River-Jack” proceeded -at once to business. By lighting twigs from -a store of brush-wood, laid ready for such an -emergency, and adding another to the smouldering -logs at the back of the huge chimney he secured -a cheerful blaze, calculated to warm through his -shivering companion, and to provide him speedily -<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>with the comforting, universal beverage. Opening a -rude locker, he took from it a tin dish containing -corned beef and “damper,” also a couple of tin plates -with knives and forks of democratic appearance, and -a butcher’s knife which did duty for a carver.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You see your dinner, Mr. Blount,” said he. “I -daresay you’ve got an appetite this cold day; I know -I have. Help yourself, the billy’s boiling, I’ll put in -the tea.” Suiting the action to the word, he took a -handful of tea out of a bag hanging by a nail in the -wall, and placing a pannikin of sugar on the table, -invited his guest to help himself and fall to.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s not quite up to the breakfast we had this -morning,” he said; “but I’ve had worse many a time; -tucker like this will carry a man a long way when he’s -on the road or at regular work.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This statement, more or less correct, was confirmed -by the performance of both wayfarers, Mr. Blount -plying a remarkably good knife and fork, besides -disposing of a wedge of damper, and washing the -whole down with a couple of pints of hot tea.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The fire was by this time in steady glow. Stretching -his legs before it, and indulging in a luxurious -smoke, the tourist expressed his opinion that he had -known more artistic cookery, but had never enjoyed a -meal more.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. John Carter, the while, had washed and replaced -the plates and pannikins; also rearranged the -beef and bread with a deftness telling of previous -experience. This duty concluded, they awaited the -return of the gold-diggers.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They don’t come in while there’s light to work -by,” he explained; “the days are that short now, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>that unless you’re at it early and late there ain’t much -to show for it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The twilight had faded into all but complete darkness -when the dogs growled in a non-committal way, -as though merely to indicate human approach -without resenting it. “It’s my pals comin’,” the bushman -observed; and, closely following the words, -footsteps were heard, and a big, bearded, roughly-dressed -man entered the hut. “Hullo! Jack, you’re -here, and this is the gentleman from England,” he -continued, fixing a bold, penetrating glance upon -Blount. “Glad to see you, sir! This is a rough -shop; but we’ve got fair tucker, and firewood’s -plenty. We’ll soon show you the ins and outs of -gold-digging, if that’s what you want to see. Jack -got you a feed, I expect; fill up the billy, old man, -while we get a wash.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Seizing a handful of rough towels, and a bag which -hung near the head of the bunk in the corner to -the right of the speaker, he went out into the night; -while certain splashing noises told that face and -hands’ cleaning was in progress.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Little more than ten minutes had elapsed, when the -speaker, accompanied by three other men, re-entered -the hut, and after an informal mention of names to -the stranger, sat down to the table, where they went -to work at the beef and damper, with strict attention -to business. Mr. Blount had an opportunity while -they were thus engaged of a complete inspection. -Though roughly dressed, there was nothing unpleasing -to the educated eye about their appearance.</p> - -<p class='c008'>They wore red or blue woollen shirts, rough tweed -or moleskin trousers, and heavy miners’ boots. All -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>had beards more or less trimmed, and wore their hair -rather short than long.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Three of the party were tall, broad-shouldered, and -muscular; the fourth was middle-sized, slight and -active-looking. He wore only a fair moustache, and -seemed younger than the others. Commencing to -make conversation at once, he was evidently regarded -as the wit of the party.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So you’re back again, Jack, old man!” he said, -addressing the guide with a half-humorous, half-cynical -expression. “Goin’ to and fro on the earth, -seekin’ what you might—well, not devour exactly, but -pick up in a free and easy, genteel sort o’ way, like -the old chap we used to be so frightened of when we -were kiddies. Don’t hear so much about him now, do -we? Wonder why? He ain’t dead, or played out, -what d’ye make of it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You seem to take a lot of interest in him, Dick,” -said the guide. “Been readin’ sermons, or beginnin’ -to think o’ your latter end? Lots of time for that.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, not so much that way, but I’m seriously -thinkin’ o’ clearin’ out o’ this part o’ the country and -tryin’ another colony. It’s too dashed cold and wet -here. I’m afraid of my precious health. I hear great -talks of this West Australian side—Coolgardie, or -something like that—where it never rains, hardly, and -they’re getting gold in buckets’ full.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re doin’ middlin’ well here, Dick,” said one of -the other men in a dissuasive tone of voice. “The -lead’s sure to widen out as it gets deeper and junctions -with the Lady Caroline. Why don’t you have -patience, and see it out?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, haven’t I been waitin’ and waitin’, and now -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>I’m full up; made up my mind to sell out. If any -one here will give me twenty notes for my fourth -share of the claim after this divide, I’m up to take it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll buy it,” said Mr. Blount impulsively. “I -should like to have a turn at real mining, and this -seems a fair chance.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Done with you, sir; we can write out an agreement -here now. You’ll have a fourth share in the -hut and tools, won’t he, mates?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The men nodded assent. “Going cheap, Jack, -isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Dirt cheap, and no mistake. Mr. Blount never -made a better bargain. I’ll cash his cheque on -Melbourne, so you can clear to-morrow, Dick, though -I think you’re a fool for your pains. We’ll witness -the agreement here, and he can hold your miner’s -right till he gets a transfer from the Registrar at -Bunjil.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>This transaction, concluded with ease and celerity, -seemed to meet with general approbation. Mr. -Blount was charmed with his business insight, which -had enabled him to seize upon an opportunity of -joining a “bona fide going concern” in regular work.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How’s the ‘Lady Julia’ been behaving lately?” -inquired Jack Carter.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, here’s the fortnight’s clean up, close on -twelve ounces, I should say. Might be better, but -it’s more than tucker, three ounces a man, say £40 -for two weeks’ work. The month before it was £60, -and of course, there’s a chance of a nugget, or a make -in the lead, any day!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A nugget’s a lump of gold, isn’t it? What size -are they?” queried the new partner.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>“Any size from a pound to a hundredweight. A -Chinaman turned up one worth £230 just after we -came, at Back Creek,” answered the big miner; “in -old ground, too. Of course, they’re not everyday -finds. But there’s always a chance. That’s what -<a id='make'></a>makes digging so jolly excitin’, a party can always -keep themselves if they work steady, and then there’s -the off-chance of a big slice of luck comin’ their -way.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I should think it did,”, assented the stranger, -heartily. “A free life, perfect independence, healthy -occupation. It will suit me down to the ground.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Early to bed and early to rise is another of the -advantages given in with the honest miner’s business,” -said the young man called Dick. “A feller’s so jolly -tired if he’s been amusin’ himself with a pick and -shovel all day, or even the cradle, that by the time -he’s had tea, and a smoke, he’s glad to get to his -bunk for fear he should go to sleep, like a trooper’s -horse, all standin’. So Mr. Blount had better collar -my bunk, which I hereby make over to him, along -with my share of the ‘Lady Julia’ claim and tools, -cradle, and one-fourth interest in the perlatial residence, -as the auctioneers say. I’ll doss near the fire along -with Jack. Mr. Blount’s got his own blankets, so -that’ll be all right.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Suiting the action to the word, Dick dragged his -blankets and a few articles of attire from the bunk -indicated, including a weather-worn leather valise -into which he stuffed the smaller matters.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Arranging his blankets near the fire, he made a -pillow of the valise, and removing his boots and coat, -lit his pipe, and lay down on the earthen floor, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>pulling the blankets over him, and apparently quite -prepared for a sound night’s rest. “Good-night all!” -were his parting words.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll say good-night, too,” said Little-River-Jack, -undoing the swag, which he had carried in the front -of his saddle during the day’s journey, and which -seemed chiefly composed of a pair of serviceable blue -blankets. “Dick and I’ll take the claim by the -chimney. I’ll put on a back log, to keep us all -warm, and do to boil the billy to-morrow morning. -So I’ll say good-night, Mr. Blount, and wish you luck -now, as I’ll be off before daylight. I’d not get up, if -I was you, it’s shivering cold till the sun’s up.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The three men who were now Mr. Blount’s -“mates” (or partners) in the claim lost no time in -depositing themselves in their separate sleeping -places, removing only the more necessary articles -of clothing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount sat before the fire for half an hour, lost -in thought, before arraying himself in a suit of -pyjamas, which would have excited the admiration -of his companions had they been awake. Their -regular breathing, however, denoted that such was -not the case, and he, too, after a decent interval, -abandoned his unwonted environment for the land -of mystery and enchantment which men call sleep.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Next morning the clatter of tin plates, and other -accompaniments, upon the literal “board” which -stood for the table and all appurtenances, aroused the -new partner from a profound slumber.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The dim light of a cloudy dawn was struggling -with the smoky flame of a tallow lamp of rude shape. -The “billy” full of hot tea had just been placed upon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>the table by the acting cook, who had previously -disposed a tin dish containing fried beef steaks -beside it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Snatching up his towel and sponge bag, the -stranger made a rush for the creek bank, where a -rude stage permitted him to indulge in a copious -sluicing of his head, neck and shoulders.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Ice-cold as was the water, he achieved a glow after -a vigorous application of his rough towel, and dressing -in haste, was able to dispose of his share of the -meal more or less creditably.</p> - -<p class='c008'>With more consideration than might have been -expected, the dish of steaks had been put down by -the fire and kept warm in his absence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I shall not over-sleep myself another morning,” -he said, apologetically, “but I suppose the long day -<em>did</em> tire me a bit. It was awfully slow too, stumbling -over those rocky tracks. I shall be in better trim -shortly.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Expect you will,” said the big digger, “a man’s -always soft for the first week, specially if he hasn’t -been used to the life. We’ll start for the claim, soon’s -you’re through with breakfast; Jack and Dick’s off -hours ago. There were cattle to take back, left here -for the butcher.” He now remembered as in a dream -having heard a dog bark, and a whip crack, in the -middle of the night, as it seemed to him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Early birds,” he remarked sententiously; after -which, finishing his second pannikin of tea, he expressed -himself as ready for the road.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The mists were clearing from the mountain-side, -which lay dark and frowning between the little party -and the East, but ere long the curving shoulders of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>the range became irradiated. A roseate glow suffused -the pale snow crown, transmuting it gradually into a -jewelled coronet, while the mountain flanks became -slowly illumined, exhibiting the verdant foot-hills, in -clear contrast with the sombre, illimitable forest. As -the sun’s disc became fully apparent, all Nature -seemed to greet with gladness the triumph of the -Day-god. The birds chirped and called in the dense -underwoods through which the narrow path wound.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Flights of water-fowl high overhead winged their -way to distant plains and a milder air. A rock -kangaroo, cleared the streamlet with a bound and fled -up the hillside like a mountain hare. A cloud of -cockatoos flitted ghost-like across the tree-tops, betraying -by an occasional harsh cry the fact that a sense -of harmony had been omitted, when their delicately -white robes were apportioned to them. As the sun -gained power and brilliancy, Mr. Blount found the -path easy to follow and his spirits began to rise.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How far to the claim?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c008'>One of the miners pointed to a hillock of yellow -and red earth by the side of which a rude stage had -been erected, and a rope wound around, from which -depended a raw hide bucket.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Moving up, he was aware of a shaft sunk to a depth -of fifty or sixty feet; from appearances, the precious -metal had been extracted by rude appliances on the -bank of the creek, still running briskly through the -little flat.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m the captain of this claim,” said the big miner, -“elected by a majority of the shareholders, so, till -I’m turned out, I’ll have all the say.” The other -diggers nodded. “You’re new to the game, mister, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>so I’ll give you the easiest show to begin with. Later -on, you can tackle the pick and shovel. We three go -below, one at a time, you see how it’s done, and be -middlin’ careful: there’s a man’s life on the rope every -time, and if you let the windlass run away with you, -out he goes! Next man in.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sitting down on the “brace,” the miner took hold -of the hide rope above his head with both hands, -while one of the others at the windlass began to -lower him slowly down, a short strong piece of pointed -timber, referred to as the “sprag,” being inserted into -the roller, through which the hide rope ran, in order -to check its velocity, and give the man at the windlass -control.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Blount looking down, saw him gradually descend, -until the bottom of the shaft was reached. The second -man was lowered. When the third with his foot in a -bight of the rope prepared to descend, he felt a little -nervous, which the miner was quick to observe. -“Don’t be afraid of killin’ me, mate! just hold on to -the windlass-handle like grim death. It’ll come easy -after a bit.” He laughed as he commenced to descend, -saying, “When you hear this tin arrangement clap -together, it means ‘haul away.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount was most careful, and finding that he -could manage the windlass easily, with the help of the -“sprag” aforesaid, became more confident. The -next excitement was when the clapper sounded, and -he began to haul up. But the weight below seemed -to be too great. The rope refused to draw up the -bucket. Then he noticed that the “sprag” was still -in the roller.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Smiling at his mistake he took it out, and immediately -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>began to haul up. Though a good pull it was -not a difficult task for an athletic young man, in high -health and spirits. So he bent his back to the work, -and presently the hide bucket, filled with yellow and -red clay, came to the surface; this he drew on one -side, and tilted over on to the “tip” or “mullock” -heap, having to that extent been instructed. Lowering -it again he continued the somewhat monotonous -work, without cessation, till noon, when a double note -on the clapper warned him that his mates desired -to revisit upper air. This ascent accomplished -safely, the billy was boiled, and dinner, so called, notwithstanding -the early hour, was disposed of.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My word! you’re gettin’ on fine, mate,” said the -big miner, “and that reminds me, what are we to call -you? You needn’t trouble about your real name, if -you want to keep it dark. Many a good man’s had -to do that hereabouts. Anyway, on a goldfield it’s -no one’s business but the owner’s, but we must call -you somethin’!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Call me Jack Blunt. It’s near enough for the -present.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All right, Blunt; now you’re christened,” said the -big miner. “Phelim O’Hara’s mine, and these other -chaps are my brother Pat and George Dixon; we’re -all natives, only as he’s Lancashire by blood we call -him ‘Lanky’ for short; we may’s well go down now, -and you can do a bit of pick and shovel work for a -change.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount considered it to be a change in the -fullest sense of the word when he found himself -dangling between earth and sky, with his leg in the -loop of a rope, having a great inclination to turn -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>round and round, which he combated by thrusting -his leg against the side of the shaft. He realised a -feeling akin to that of being lowered over a cliff, -which he had read of in boyhood, reflecting, too, that -he had no more <em>real</em> security than a man in that embarrassing -position. Still the narrow shaft had an -appearance of safety, which in his case prevented -vertigo. The pick and shovel work was not hard to -comprehend. He did his best, though easily outpaced -by his mates.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In a week’s time he found himself quite <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">au fait</span></i> at -the work, while improving daily in wind and muscle. -“Capital training for a boat-race,” he said, “only -there’s no water hereabouts, except this little brook, -but we don’t seem to be getting rich very fast, do we, -George?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>George was sententious. He had been a navvy. -The best worker of the party, he was slow of speech, -and disinclined to argue on abstract matters.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Forty or fifty pound a fortnight for four of us -ain’t so bad,” he growled out.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Not only was Mr. Blount himself becoming accustomed -to this unfamiliar mode of life, but his cob, -though he did not take kindly to the mountaineering -work, as we have seen, became familiarised to being -turned out with the claim horses and foregathered -with them amicably. However, one afternoon, when -they were brought in for a ride, as it was too wet to -work, the cob, now fat and frolicsome, was reported -missing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>His master was much annoyed and alarmed at -this state of affairs. However, Phelim O’Hara volunteered -to stay at home, and moreover to lend him his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>horse on which to search for the defaulter. Mr. -Blount eagerly accepted the offer, and lost no time in -going off to hunt for “John Gilpin” as the cob was -facetiously named. Unlike a bushman, he rode -hither and thither, not troubling himself about tracks, -or keeping a course in any given direction.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The consequence was that towards nightfall he -found himself several miles from camp, or indeed any -landmark which he had passed in the early part of the -day. He was, however, sensible enough to follow a -creek, which eventually led him to the river; between -which and the hilly country he had been traversing, -he saw a piece of level country on which several wild -horses were grazing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He was attracted by the appearance of a handsome -grey stallion, who appeared to be the leader and, so -to speak, commander of the “manada,” around which -he trotted or galloped, driving in the mares and colts, -and indeed, with open mouth and threatening heels, -forcing them to keep within bounds.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Suddenly there was the sound of a rifle shot from -the side of the forest nearest to the troop. The -leader gave a sudden bound forward, then dropped on -his haunches. He made several unavailing attempts -to rise.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Struck in the region of the spine, he was evidently -paralysed. He reared himself on his fore-legs but was -unable to move forward, more than once neighing -piteously. The mares and foals had fled like a herd -of deer at the sound of the gun, but following the -habit of these steeds of the mountain parks, though -“wild as the wild deer, and untamed,” came timidly -back, and stood near their lord and master. As the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>hinds and fawns are unwilling to leave the death-stricken -stag, so these descendants of man’s noblest -servant refused to quit the spot where the monarch -of their kingdom lies wounded to the death. They -circled around him until another shot from the invisible -marksman pealed forth, and a fine black mare, with a -young foal, dropped dead near the wounded sire.</p> - -<p class='c008'>They scattered afresh at this new stroke of fate; -Mr. Blount wondering much whether they would -return. But the grey whinnied from time to time, -making frantic efforts to reach the dead mare—all -vainly. He swung round on his fore-legs but was -unable to do more.</p> - -<p class='c008'>His struggles became tremendous, his agonised -distress piteous to behold. Bathed in sweat and foam -he seemed ready to succumb with terror and exhaustion, -as he sunk sideways till his head, lying prone -upon the grass, nearly touched that of his dead mate. -Then again the deadly weapon rang out, and another -victim, this time a frolicsome chestnut filly, fell to the -unerring aim of the marksman, as before, invisible. -Mr. Blount felt a disinclination to move from his -position, not knowing exactly how near he might be -to the concealed hunter’s line of fire.</p> - -<p class='c008'>At length, as nearly all the “mob” were down, a -tall man in a Norfolk jacket of tweed with knickerbockers -and gaiters to match, walked forth from behind -an immense eucalyptus. He was plainly dressed, -though Mr. Blount discerned a distinction in his air -and bearing which convinced him that the man was -no stockrider. He carried a Winchester magazine -rifle, from which he sent a bullet into the head of the -wounded horse, thus putting an end to his sufferings, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>and leaving him lying dead amid the females of his -court.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The accost of the hunter was not markedly cordial -as Mr. Blount stated that it was a lovely morning, -and that the scene before him reminded him of a -battlefield.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Indeed!” he replied, with a certain amount of -hauteur. “May I ask the favour of your name? -and also what you are doing on this part of my -run?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Your run! I was led to believe that I was on the -area of Crown land, open, as such, to all travelling -on lawful business. My name is Blount. May I ask -in return for yours? As to my business, I am at -present looking for a strayed horse.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Was he a bay cob with a short tail and hogged -mane, a letter and number on the near shoulder?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That is his exact description.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then he is safe,” said the stranger. “He had joined -the station horses and was run in with them this morning. -He is now in my paddock, as I assumed that he -had strayed from his owner, and was making his way -down to the river. My name is Edward Bruce of -Marondah, which is not more than fifteen miles distant. -You had better come home with me; I shall -be happy to put you up for the night, and you can -take your horse back in the morning.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The day was drawing to a close. It was a long -way to the claim, and Blount was by no means sure -that he could find his way back or even pick up -his own tracks.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think,” he replied, “that I can’t do better than -accept your offer, for which I feel most grateful.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>“There is no real obligation, believe me,” said Mr. -Bruce.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But where is your horse?” said Blount, looking at -the stranger’s serviceable leggings.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not far, you may be sure, and in safe keeping; -my gillie is pretty handy.” Putting two fingers to his -mouth, he gave the drover’s whistle, with such volume -and shrillness that it might have been heard at a -considerable distance. After a short interval, a high -wailing sort of cry (the Australian aboriginal call) -came floating through the forest, and a black boy -galloped up, riding one horse, and leading another of -such superior shape and action that Blount thought -it criminal to run the risk of injuring him in such -rough country.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The black boy led the horse to his master, but did -not offer to dismount, or hold the stirrup, as an -English groom would have done. Nor did such -attention appear necessary, as Mr. Bruce mounted -with alacrity, and motioning the boy to ride ahead -followed at a brisk trot through the forest and along -the rocky cattle tracks, which, though occasionally -running in different directions, converged, and appeared -to lead almost due south. All the while, the son of -the forest sitting loose-reined and carelessly on his -horse, never deviated apparently from his course, or -was in doubt for a moment.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In less than two hours, when the light was becoming -uncertain, and the chill evening air of these Australian -highlands apparent, a chorus of baying dogs of all -ages, sizes and descriptions announced the vicinity -of the homestead. At the same time, the winding -course of a full fed mountain stream was revealed.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>On a promontory which seemed to have dissociated -itself from the forest glades, and been arrested just -above the broad river meadow, stood a roomy bungalow -protected by wide verandahs from sun and -storm.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This is Marondah!” said Mr. Bruce, not without a -certain air of dignity—“allow me to welcome you to -my home.” A black girl came running up at the -moment, who showed her enviably white and regular -teeth in a smile of greeting, as in a matter-of-fact -way she unstrapped the guest’s valise, and led off his -horse.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You put ’em yarraman longa stable,” commanded -the squatter—for such he was. “Your horse will be -all right. Polly is as good a stable hand as Paddy—a -turn better, I sometimes think. She’s a clever ‘gin’ -all round. Ah! I see Mrs. Bruce.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>As they walked forward, a lady came through the -garden gate, and met them—receiving the guest with -cordiality—then turning to her husband.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re rather late, Ned! What kept you? -I’m always nervous when you’re out at that end -of the run!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, if you must know, I found the grey horse’s -mob, which I’ve been tracking for some time—and -got them all—a real bit of luck. Then I fell in with -Mr. Blount, who was looking for that smart cob that -came in with our horses this morning. Luckily for -him, as it turns out.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So it was. Did you shoot the poor things? I -always feel so sorry for them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Of course I did; they’re more trouble than all -the other ‘brumbies’ on the run, galloping about, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>smashing fences, destroying dams, and wasting grass, -for the use of which I pay the Crown rent.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, a farthing an acre!” laughed the lady. “All -the same, it’s very cruel—don’t you think so, Mr. -Blount? What would they say in England of such -barbarous work?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It would raise a scandal, Mrs. Bruce; but everything -depends on the value of the animal, apart from -the sentiment.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Thus conversing, they walked through the garden, -which was encompassed by an orchard of venerable -age. It stretched to the river bank, along which a -line of magnificent willows partly over-arched the -stream with graceful, trailing foliage, while the interlaced -roots performed valuable service in supporting -the banks in time of flood.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Passing along the broad verandah, vine and trailer-festooned, -they entered a hall, of which the door -seemed permanently open.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The walls were garnished with whips, guns on racks -(where Mr. Bruce carefully placed his redoubtable -Winchester), the great wings of the mountain eagle, -the scarlet and jet tail-feathers of the black macaw, -and the sulphur-coloured crests of his white relative. -These, and other curios of the Waste, relieved the -apartment of any appearance of bareness, while avoiding -incongruity of ornamentation. Passing into a large, -comfortably-furnished room, where preparations for -the evening meal were in evidence, the host pointed -to a spirit-stand on the sideboard, and suggesting that -a tot of whisky would not be inappropriate after a -long day, invited his guest to join him. This offer -Mr. Blount frankly accepted, as, besides being tired -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>with a long, dragging ride, he felt nearly as cold as if -he had been deer-shooting in the Scottish Highlands, -instead of this southern mountain land.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He had donned the riding-suit in which he had -arrived at Bunjil, and had also packed necessaries of -travel in his valise, in case he might have to stay a -day at a decent house. This sensible precaution -(never needless in the wildest solitudes of Australia) -now stood him in good stead. And he felt truly -thankful, after being ushered into a comfortable -bedroom, that he had resisted the temptation to -start off without them. He was enabled, therefore, to -issue forth reasonably fitted for the society of ladies, -and the enjoyment of the hospitality of the period. -So that, when shown into another room smaller -than the first he had entered, but more ornate as to -furniture, he felt comparatively at ease, notwithstanding -the roughness of his late surroundings.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mrs. Bruce was already there, and, rising from a -sofa, said—</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Allow me, Mr. Blount, to introduce you to my -sister Imogen.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>A tall girl had at this moment arisen, not previously -referred to by his host or the lady of the -house.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was not an introduction—it was a revelation, as -Blount subsequently described the interview. Mrs. -Bruce was a handsome woman, tall and stately, as are -many Australians, possessing, withal, fine natural manners -improved by travel, and she might reasonably -have been expected to possess a good-looking sister. -For so much Blount stood prepared. But this divinity -of the waste—this Venus Anadyomene—was above -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>and beyond all expectation, all imagination or conception. -He gazed at her, as he confessed to himself, -with an expression of unconventional surprise; for -Imogen Carrisforth was, indeed, a girl that no man -with the faintest <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">soupçon</span></i> of taste or sentiment could -behold without admiration.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mrs. Bruce was dark-haired, with fine eyes to match, -distinctly aristocratic as to air and carriage; her sister -was fair, with abundant nut-brown hair shot with -warmer hues, which shone goldenly as the lamplight -fell across it. It was gathered in masses above -her forehead and around her proudly-poised head, as -she smiled a welcome to the stranger with the hospitably -frank accost which greets the guest so invariably -in an Australian country home. While looking into -the depths of her brilliant hazel eyes, Blount almost -murmured “O, Dea certe!” while doubting if he had -ever before beheld so lovely a creature.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mrs. Bruce attributed his evident surprise to the -fact of his not having been informed of the fact of a -second lady being at the house. “Ned ought to have -told you,” she said, “that my sister was staying with -us. She has just come from town, where she has -been at school. She is so tall that really it seemed -absurd to keep her there any longer.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You forget that I am eighteen,” said the young -lady under observation. “My education should be -finished now, if ever.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Indeed, I’m afraid you won’t learn much more,” -said her brother-in-law, paternally, “though I’m not -sure that another year under Miss Charters would -not have been as well.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! but I <em>did</em> pine so for the fresh air of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>bush—the rides and drives and everything. I can’t -bear a town life, and was growing low-spirited.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How about the opera, balls, the Cup Day itself, -at your age too?” interposed Blount.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All very well in their way. But society in town -seems one unmeaning round with the same people -you meet always. One gets dead tired of it all. I -must have gipsy blood in me, I think, for the gay -greenwood has a fascination, which I feel, but can’t -explain.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>During dinner, Blount found Mrs. Bruce most -agreeable, and, indeed, entertaining. He learned -something too about the neighbours, none of whom -were nearer than ten miles. Some, indeed, much -farther off. It was also explained to him that the -region of the Upper Sturt was not all rock and forest, -swamp and scrub, but that there were rich tablelands -at “the back,” which might be north or north-east. -Also that the country became more open “down the -river,” as well as, in a sense, more civilised, “though -we don’t call ourselves <em>very</em> barbarous,” she added, -with a smile.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Barbarous, indeed!” repeated the guest, with -well-acted indignation. “You seem to me to have -all the accessories, and more of them than we in that -old-fashioned country called England. Here you -have books, papers, all the comforts and many of the -luxuries of the Old Land, besides a free, unfettered -existence, independence, and no earthly annoyance -or danger.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I am not so sure about the last items,” said Mrs. -Bruce. “Ned has been worrying himself lately about -a gang of men who call themselves miners, but are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>more than suspected to be cattle-stealers. He has -missed valuable animals lately.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You surprise me!” replied Blount, with a shocked -expression. “The bush people whom I have come -across have appeared to be such simple, hard-working -fellows. But surely Mr. Bruce doesn’t apprehend -danger from gold-diggers or drovers? They are so -civil and well-mannered too.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Their manners are good enough; better, people -tell us, than those of the same class at home. But -they are not always to be trusted, and are revengeful -when thwarted in their bad practices. Edward has -more than once been warned to be more careful about -riding alone near their haunts in the ranges, though -he always goes armed.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But surely none of the ‘mountain men,’ as I have -heard them called, would lie in wait for Mr. Bruce, or -any other proprietor, even if he was unpopular, which -I feel certain Mr. Bruce is not?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There is no saying. Blood has been shed in -these mountains before now, peaceful as they appear. -However, Edward never stirs out in that direction -without his rifle, and you have seen him shoot. He -has no fear, but I cannot feel free from anxiety -myself. And now I think we must go into the -drawing-room, or wrap up and sit in the verandah -while you men smoke; what do you say, Imogen?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I vote for the verandah. There’s no wind, and -the moon is nearly full. It’s tolerably cool; but dry -cold never hurts any one. Indeed, it’s said to be the -new cure for chest ailment at Davos Platz, isn’t it, -Edward?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They say so. Doctors are always changing their -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>theories. I prefer a climate that’s moderately cosy -myself. But we must have our smoke, and you girls -can talk to us, if you keep to low tones and modulated -expressions.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Blount would have vowed to renounce tobacco for -the rest of his natural life if but Miss Imogen would -sit by him. The moon had risen, flooding the dark -woods and river pools with silver radiance. Could -they but continue to listen dreamily to the rhythmic -murmur of the stream, the softly-sighing, complaining -sound of the trailing willows as from time to time the -river current lifted them—what had life to compare -with such sensations? However, this idyllic joy was -in its nature fleeting, as it became apparent that the -frosty air “was really too keen for reasonable people -who had colds to consider and babies.” So Mrs. -Bruce, thus remonstrating, arose, and with two words, -“Come, Imogen!” made for one of the French -windows which opened from the drawing-room to the -verandah. When they entered that comfortable, -well-furnished apartment—a handsome Blüthner piano -stood open, with music conveniently close—Mr. -Bruce quasi-paternally ordered Imogen to sing, in -order that he might judge what progress she had -made during the half year.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So they had a song, another, several indeed to -finish up with. Mr. Blount admitted a slight knowledge -of music, and even took a creditable second in -one of Miss Carrisforth’s songs. The night wore on, -until just before ten o’clock, a neat maid brought in -a tray with glasses, and the wherewithal to fill the -same. The ladies declining refreshment, said good-night, -and left Mr. Bruce and his guest to have their -<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>final smoke, hoping that they would not sit up too -late, as they must feel tired after their long day’s ride.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The night was glorious, the moon, nearly at its full, -had floated into the mid-heaven. The cloudless, -dark blue sky seemed to be illumined with star -clusters and planets of greater lustre than in ordinary -seasons. As they smoked silently, Blount listening -to the river gurgling and rippling over its pebbly -shallows, the sharp contrast of his surroundings with -those he had so lately quitted, indeed even with those -during the penultimate sojourn at Bunjil, struck him -so forcibly that he could hardly repress a smile.</p> - -<p class='c008'>However he merely remarked—“Australia is -certainly a land of wonders—my friends in England -will not believe half my adventures when I tell them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I can quite understand that,” replied his host. -“When I returned to my native place, after ten years’ -absence, mine showed signs of utter disbelief in my -smaller experiences, while hazardous tales were -swallowed without hesitation.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount rose early and was rewarded by a view -of the dawnlight suffusing the eastern horizon with -pale opaline tints, gradually increasing in richness -and variety of colouring. Roseate golden clouds -were marshalled around the summit of the snow-crowned -alp, and even the darksome forest aisles -responded to the divine informing waves of light -and life.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He was aroused from reverie as he gazed upon the -wondrous apparition by resounding whips and the -roll of hoofs, as the station horses were being run -into the yard. The cob was easily distinguished by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>his cropped tail and mane, while, refreshed by rest -and freedom, he galloped and kicked up his heels, as -if he had been reared in the bush, instead of in a -suburban paddock. Mr. Blount also witnessed his -being caught and conveyed to the stable, in company -with Mr. Bruce’s favourite hackney, and another -distinguished-looking animal. With respect to the -last-named, Paddy said that one “belong’n Miss -Immie,” volunteering further information to this -effect.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My word! that one missy ride fustrate.” Storing -this encomium in his mind, Mr. Blount repaired to his -apartment, where he made all ready for departure, -resolving not to remain longer away from his -associates in the “Lady Julia,” however great the -temptation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>This came at breakfast time, when Mrs. Bruce -invited him to stay a few days, when they would -show him their best bits of scenery and otherwise try -to amuse him. There was a muster of fat cattle -coming on, which was always held to be an interesting -spectacle to visitors from the other side of the -world. Mr. Bruce was convinced that he would -acquire more colonial experience in a week at this -particular time, than half a year would show him at -a different season. A few neighbours would come -over—very decent fellows, and fair specimens of -Australian country gentlemen. It would be a regular -“house-party,” as they say in England. The -opportunity should not be lost.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Miss Imogen did not join in the endeavour to -tempt Mr. Blount from the path of duty, but she -looked as if such a deflection from the narrow way -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>would meet with her approval. After his very -courteous, but distinct expression of regret, that he -was compelled by a business engagement to decline—with -how much reluctance, he could hardly say—their -most kind and flattering invitation, the request -was not pressed, and the remainder of the breakfast -passed off in a lively interchange of the pleasantries -proper to the occasion.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We are going to speed the parting guest, if he -will not honour our abode any longer,” said Mrs. -Bruce, playfully; “but we must do it after our own -fashion. My husband, Imogen and I, will ride with -you for part of the way—indeed nearly as far as -where you met Ned yesterday, if you don’t mind?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mind,” replied the guest, with a look of surprised -gratitude, which caused Miss Imogen to smile and -blush. “Nothing could possibly give me greater -pleasure.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So that’s settled,” said Bruce. “I’ll order the -horses round; we’ll take Paddy with us, who may as -well lead your cob till we part company, and I’ll -mount you on one of the best hacks in this district, or -any other. It will save your horse, and as you’re -likely to have a long day that’s a consideration.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How you are adding to my load of obligation; I -shall never be able to repay half the debt.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Time enough when we meet again,” said the -host, “but we’ve none to spare at present. So, -Imogen, ten minutes and no more to put on your -habit.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Five will do,” said the girl, as she laughingly ran -out of the room, to reappear gloved, hatted, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>turned out in a most accurately-fitting habit as the -horses were led up.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Her brother-in-law put his hand under her dainty -foot, and lifted her lightly into the saddle, while the -bright chestnut mare sidled, and arched her neck, as -she felt the lightest of hands on her bridle rein. Mr. -Bruce guaranteed that the hunter-looking bay detailed -for his guest’s use was “prompt in his paces, -cool and bold” like Bevis, upon whom the spectre -knight’s night-ride had such an unfortunate effect, -while he himself mounted the favourite steed which -his guest had remarked at their first meeting, saying: -“You don’t often see a better-looking lot together; as -good, too, as they are good-looking.” Mr. Blount was -convinced of the justice of this valuation, and thought -that the statement might even be applied to the -riders. Paddy, on a veteran stock horse, brought up -the rear leading the cob, whose short tail and hogged -mane excited Polly’s unmeasured ridicule: “Mine -thinkit, that one pfeller brother belongin’ to pig,” and -seized with the comicality of the idea, she exploded -in fits of laughter, as casting lingering looks of regret -at the receding cavalcade, she walked soberly back to -the huts.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“These two horses are the fast walkers of the -party, Mr. Blount,” began the fair Imogen, as the -clever hackney she rode started off at so fast a pace -as to incur the suspicion of ambling. “Ned and his -henchman, Paddy, will go rambling ahead or on a -parallel, looking for strange tracks, denoting trespassers -on the run, strayed cattle, indeed found -sometimes before they are lost, that is by the lawful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>owners. The life of the owner of a cattle station is -often ‘not a happy one.’ It is surprising how many -kinds of annoyances, risks and anxieties, he may -suffer from.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mr. Bruce doesn’t look as if he suffered from any -of the ills of life,” said Blount, gazing at his fair companion, -as who should say, “How <em>could</em> any man be -unhappy who has such a charming sister-in-law, not -to mention a delightful wife and a nice baby?” However -he did not wish for a catalogue of his host’s -annoyances. He wanted to hear his companion’s -appreciation of the grand scheme of colour, tone, -light and shadow, just opening out before them, as -the “glorious sun uprist” amid clouds which had -recently rolled away, leaving full in view the forest-clothed -uplands, the silent gorges, and the glittering -summit of the majestic alp.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Right joyous are the pastimes connected with -horse and hound in the older land whence our fathers -came, amid the wide pastures, the hedge-bordered -fields of green England.</p> - -<p class='c008'>With the hog-spear and rifle on the dusty plains -and sudden appearing nullahs of Hindostan, Arab -and Waler, by riders of world wide fame, are hard -pressed in rivalry. In equestrian tournaments, in the -polo gymkhana, and other military contests, there are -trials of skill and horsemanship, with a suspicion of -danger, to stir a man’s blood. But a gallop through -the glades of an Australian forest, in the autumnal -season of the year, or even in the so-called mid-winter -under the cloudless skies and glowing sun of the -southern hemisphere, yields to no sport on earth, in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>keenness of enjoyment or the excitement generated -by the pride of horsemanship.</p> - -<p class='c008'>When the company is illumined by a suitable proportion -of dames and demoiselles, right royally -mounted, and practised in the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">manège</span></i>, the combination -is perfect.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER V</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>And</span>, in the joyous days of youth, the glorious, the -immortal, the true, the ever-adorable deity of the -soul’s childhood, unheeding, careless of the future, -thinking, like charity, no evil, revelling in the purely -sensuous enjoyment of the fair present, which of the -so-called pleasures of the future can claim equality of -richness or flavour, with those of that unsurpassable -period of the mysterious human pageant! “Carpe -Diem!” oh! fortunate heir of life’s richest treasure-house, -is the true, the only true philosophy. Enjoy, -while the pulse is high, the vigour of manhood -untouched by Time, the spirit unsaddened by distrust -of the future.</p> - -<p class='c008'>For you, glows that cloudless azure; for you the -streams murmur, the breezes sigh, the good horse -bounds freely over the elastic sward; for you shine the -eyes of the beauteous maiden with a fore-taste of the -divine dream of love. Thank the kind gods, that -have provided so bounteous a feast of soul and sense! -Oh! happy thou, that art bidden to such a banquet of -the immortals; quaff the ambrosia, while the light -still glows on Olympus, and Nemesis is as yet an -unimagined terror.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In the days which were to come, in the destiny -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>which the Fates were even then weaving for him, -Valentine Blount told himself that never in his -whole life had so many conditions of perfect enjoyment -been combined as in that memorable riding -party.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The sun rays prophetic of an early summer, for -which the men of a thousand shearing sheds were -even now mustering, were warm, yet tempered by the -altitude of the region and the proximity of the snow -fields. All nature seemed to recognise the voice of -spring. The birds came forth from their leafy coverts, -their wild but not unmusical notes sounding strangely -unfamiliar to the English stranger. An occasional -kangaroo dashed across their path, flying with tremendous -bounds to its home on the mountain side. A lot -of half-wild cattle stood gazing for a few moments, -then “cleared,” as Miss Imogen expressed it, for more -secluded regions.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I wonder if I could ‘wheel’ them,” she said, as -her bright glance followed the receding drove; “I see -Ned and Paddy on the other wing; Mr. Blount, you -can follow, but don’t pass me, whatever you do;” and -in spite of Mrs. Bruce’s prudential “Oh! Imogen, -don’t be rash!” away went the wilful damsel, through -the thickening timber, at a pace with which the -visitor, excellently mounted as he was, on a trained -stock-horse, found it no easy task to keep up. -Directly this enterprising movement on the part of -the young lady was observed by the watchful Paddy, -he called to Mr. Bruce, “Miss Immy wheel ’em, my -word. Marmy! you man’em this one piccanniny -yarraman, me ‘back up.’” Paddy’s old stock horse -dashed off at speed, little inferior to that of the young -<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>lady’s thoroughbred, and appeared on the “off side -wing” just as the fair Diana had wheeled (or turned) -the leaders to the right. Paddy riding up to them on -the left and menacing with his stockwhip, caused them -to turn towards Imogen. This manœuvre persevered -with, was finally crowned with success; inasmuch as -the two protagonists, working together and causing -the drove to “ring” or keep moving in a circle, finally -persuaded them to stop and be examined, when with -heaving flanks they bore testimony to the severity of -the pace.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mrs. Bruce, with instinctive knowledge of the points -of the situation, had kept quietly behind her guest, -who so far from passing his fair pilot, found that it -gave him enough to do to keep sight of her.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He did service however, if unconsciously, by keeping -at a certain distance behind Imogen, which prevented -the cattle from “breaking” or running back -behind her. Mrs. Bruce had ridden quietly behind -the rear guard, or “tail” (as provincially expressed), -and as Mr. Bruce, though hampered with the cob, -which he had caught and led along, kept his place -between Mrs. Bruce and Paddy, the disposition was -theoretically perfect, also successful, which in battles -as well as in the lesser pursuits of the world is <em>the</em> -great matter, after all.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Upon my word, Imogen!” said Mr. Bruce, “you -have given us a pretty gallop, and as these bullocks -are fat, it can’t have done them much good. However,” -riding round as he spoke, “it gives me a chance -to look through them, and, Hulloa! By Jove! it’s as -well I came here to-day, somebody has put a fresh -brand on that black snail-horned bullock, J. C. just -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>over the E. H. B.; I never sold that beast, I swear! -And who the dickens has put those two letters on? -Been done in a pen. You can see it’s put on from -above.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Me see um fresh brand on one feller cow,” stated -Paddy, with gravity and deliberation; “me thinkum -might ‘duff’ bullock alonga Wild Horse Gully, me -seeum track shod horse that one day marmy shootem -brumbie.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All right, Paddy,” said his master, “you lookem out -track nother one day.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My word!” replied Paddy, “me track um up jolly -quick.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Bruce seemed disconcerted by the discovery -just made. It was not unimportant. He had suspected -that he was losing cattle at this “end of the run,” -among the ranges and broken country. He had not -too good an opinion of the honesty of the small parties -of miners who worked the gullies and creeks which -led to the river. He supposed that they got a beast -now and then, but was loath to believe that there was -any organised system of plunder. Now, it was as -plain as print that cattle were yarded in small numbers -and branded, before they were delivered to the -buyers, whoever they were. How many had been -taken he could hardly venture to guess at. Cattle -being worth from eight to twelve pounds a head, it -would not take so many to be worth a thousand pounds. -It made him look grave, as he said—</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m afraid, after this pleasant ride of ours, that it’s -time for these ladies to get home. It will be past -lunch-time when they sight Marondah, and Mrs. -Bruce has family responsibilities, you know. However, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>I’ll send Paddy on with you till he puts you on a -track which will lead to your destination.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount was profuse in thanks, and exhausted -himself in statements that he had never enjoyed himself -so much in his life, and had a glorious gallop into -the bargain; that it had given him quite a new idea -of Australia, that he had been slow to believe the -romantic tales he had heard about Australian bush-riders -and their cross-country work. He was now in -a position to confirm any such statement made, and -to declare that Australian ladies, in science, coolness -and courage, were equal to any horsewomen in any -country in the world. He should never forget the -hospitality he had received, nor the lessons in bushmanship. -He trusted to revisit Marondah again before -long, when he might, perhaps, be permitted to taste a -more leisurely enjoyment of their fascinating country -life.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Dismounting, he took leave of the ladies, assuring -Mrs. Bruce that he should never forget her kindness -and that of Mr. Bruce. If he was less diffuse in his -explanations to Miss Imogen, it may have been that -there was a warmth of his final hand-clasp, or an expression -as their eyes met, before she turned her -horse’s head and rejoined her friends, which was -comparatively satisfactory.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The return stage was short, as Blount did not desire -to take the hawk-eyed aboriginal too near the claim, -much less within tracking distance of the stockyard. -The fresh tracks of the unwilling cattle, forced -into a strange and small enclosure, would be like a -placard in large letters to the wildwood scout. -Hence, as soon as he had land-marks to guide him, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>he dismissed his Hiberno-Australian attendant, who -handed over the cob and departed with a cheerful -countenance and a couple of half-crowns.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Left to himself, Mr. Blount rode slowly and heedfully -along what he conceived to be the way to the -claim, much exercised in his mind as to his line of -conduct.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Putting together various incidents and unconsidered -trifles, the conviction flashed across his mind that he -had been involuntarily an associate of cattle-stealers, -and it might well be believed an accomplice.</p> - -<p class='c008'>What position would be his if the whole gang were -arrested, and he himself included in the capture? -Could it be, during that ride with Little-River-Jack, -that he had assisted to drive certain fat cattle afterwards -sworn to be the property of Mr. Bruce of -Marondah, and bearing his well-known brand -“E. H. B.”? Could he deny that he had heard cattle -put into the stockyard near the “Lady Julia” claim -late in the evening, by John Carter (<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">alias</span></i> “Little-River-Jack”), -and taken away before daylight?</p> - -<p class='c008'>He had received his share of the money for which -the gold won in the claim where he had worked was -sold, or <em>said to be sold</em>. How could he prove that it -was not a part of the price of the stolen cattle? And -so on. He felt like many another man innocent of -evil, or thought of evil, that, with absurd credulity, -and want of reasonable prudence, he had, to a certain -degree, enmeshed himself—might, indeed, find it -difficult, if not impossible, to get free from the -consequences of a false accusation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Perhaps it might have been his duty, in the interests -of justice, to have acquainted Mr. Bruce with the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>circumstances of his sojourn at the claim with the -O’Haras and Dixon (otherwise Lanky); also of the -suspicious cattle-dealing. This would have simply -amounted to “giving away” the men whose bread -he was eating, and who were, however unfortunate -the position, his “mates” and comrades. Mr. -Bruce would, naturally, lose no time in setting the -police to work. Then, Little-River-Jack had certainly -saved his life on the “Razor-Back” ridge; -another second or two and the cob with his rider -would have been lying among the rocks below. One -such accident <em>did</em> happen there, when man and -horse went over, and were found dead and mangled. -As for the two O’Haras and George Dixon, he had -no sort of doubt now of their being mixed up with -the taking of Mr. Bruce’s cattle—possibly of those of -other squatters in his neighbourhood. Of the men -who brought the cattle to the yard, he, of course, -had no knowledge, and could have none. In the -half-darkness of the winter dawn he could only dimly -discern a couple of horsemen, one of whom appeared -to ride on with Jack Carter, the other returning.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He was glad now that he had not seen them near -enough for identification. He was close to the claim -now, having hit upon the track, which he remembered -was only a few miles distant.</p> - -<p class='c008'>What was he to say to his late companions, and -what would be their feelings towards him, if they -heard of the police being after them so soon after his -trip down the river? Would they be persuaded that -he had not betrayed, or at any rate attracted suspicion -towards them, which came to the same thing?</p> - -<p class='c008'>He was in their power, he could not but feel that. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>What chance could he have against three determined -men, with perhaps as many more who might be -members of the outside gang, the men who were -heard, but not seen, for now he remembered to have -heard the lowing of driven cattle more than once, and -the guarded voices of drovers. There was, of course -only one thing to do. He must face the position -squarely and tell the truth, whatever might be the -consequences. He would warn them that Mr. Bruce -suspected the miners in the locality of being in league -with cattle-stealers, who were selling his fat cattle to -the butchers on the smaller diggings, of which there -were not a few between the heads of the rivers and -the foothills of the mountain range. They knew Mr. -Bruce, a determined, fearless man, who would show -them no mercy. They had better “clear,” to use one -of their own expressions, before the pursuit was too -hot.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Revolving these thoughts in his mind, he rode -briskly on. He had remounted the cob, now very -fresh, and led the borrowed horse, who, as he thought, -deserved all reasonable consideration. When within -half a mile of the camp he saw a man walking along -the track towards him. It was Phelim O’Hara, the -big miner, whom he had always admired as a fine -specimen of an Australian. He was a good-natured -giant, possessing also a large share of the rollicking, -reckless humour which is the heritage of the Milesian -Celt. Phelim was a native-born Australian, however, -and on occasion could be sufficiently stern, not to say -savage. Now he did not look so pleasant as usual.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Safe home, Mr. Blount,” he said. “I see you’ve -found that cob of yours, bad cess to him! I’ve lost -<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>a day through him, and maybe more than that. But -I’m dealin’ with a gentleman, lucky for all consarned.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I hope so, Phelim,” said the Englishman; “but -what’s the matter, the camp seems deserted?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The meaning’s this, Mr. Blount.” Here his voice -became rough, if not menacing. “The police are -after us. There’s some yarn got up about Little-River-Jack -and us duffing cattle and selling them on -the small diggings. Pat and Lanky have cleared. I -stayed behind to get this horse of mine and give you -the office. There’s some says you gave us away to -Mr. Bruce, and we know what <em>he</em> is when he thinks -he’s being robbed.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve heard your story, Phelim, now for mine. I -met Mr. Bruce, who’d been shooting wild horses. He -asked me what I was doing <em>on his run</em>—he spoke -rather shortly. I told him I was looking for my cob, -and that I believed it was Crown land, open to all. -He then asked me to describe the cob, and telling me -it was in his paddock, invited me to stay at Marondah -all night, where I was most hospitably treated. He -proposed to ride part of the way back with me, and -for Mrs. Bruce and his sister-in-law to accompany us.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s Miss Imogen,” said O’Hara. “Isn’t she -the beauty of the world? And ride! There isn’t a -stockrider from this to Omeo that she couldn’t lose -in mountain country. Mrs. Bruce rides well too, I’m -told.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, indeed; we rounded up a mob of cattle. -Miss Imogen ‘wheeled’ them at the start. Black -Paddy, who had been brought to lead the cob, was on -the other wing. After that they began to ‘ring,’ and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>stopped. Then Mr. Bruce, looking through them, -unfortunately saw one of the ‘E. H. B.’ bullocks with -a strange brand newly put on. ‘That bullock’s been -yarded,’ he said, ‘and the brand “J. C.” has been put -on in a crush.’ I said nothing. Paddy came with -me as far as the cattle track, by the creek that leads -to the claim. I remembered that. Then he gave -me the cob, and I came on. Now you have the -whole story. I did not say where I had come from, -nor did Mr. Bruce question me. Of course I put two -and two together about the fat cattle. But I said -nothing. I have eaten your salt, and Little-River-Jack -certainly saved my life.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then you didn’t give us away,” said O’Hara, “or -say where we was camped, or tell our names? -O’Hara’s not a good one, more’s the pity,” and here -the big mountaineer looked regretful, even repentant -over the past.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No! not by a word. As luck would have it, Mr. -Bruce did not ask me where or with whom I had been -living.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And what brought you back here? Wouldn’t it -have been easy enough to clear away down the river, -and get shut of us, for good and all?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Easy enough, and to have gone down river by -steamer. But I wanted to warn you in time. I knew -Mr. Bruce suspected that there were diggers hereabouts -that knew about the fat cattle he missed. So -I came to give you fair warning. Where are the -others?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“They’ve cleared out. I don’t think they’ll be seen -in a hurry, this side anyhow. They’ve packed all -they wanted, and sent word to some of their pals to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>come and collar the rest. They can’t be pulled for -that. There’s a few ounces of gold coming to you, -and the ‘clean up’ was the best we’ve had. Here it -is.” And suiting the action to the word, he pulled -out from a leather pouch a wash-leather bag which, -for its size, felt heavy.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Keep it, Phelim, I won’t take a penny of it. I -learned a good deal while I was with you, and shall -always be pleased to think that I worked with <em>men</em>, -and could hold my own among them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re a gentleman, sir, and we’ll always uphold -you as one, no matter what happens to us. We’re -not bad chaps in our way, though things has gone -against us. What’ll you do now? Camp here to-night? -No? Then I’ll ride with you past ‘Razor -Back’; you’ll have light then and the road’s under -your feet. You’d better take my horse till we pass -‘Razor Back.’ <em>He</em> won’t boggle at it if it was twice -as narrow.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>It did not take long to pack all that was strictly -necessary, which alone Mr. Blount decided to take -with him. After which O’Hara boiled the billy, and -produced a decent meal, which Mr. Blount, having -tasted nothing since breakfast, did justice to. No -time was lost then, and O’Hara leading off with the -cob started at a canter, with which Blount on his -horse found no difficulty in keeping up. The contract -was performed, they safely negotiated the perilous -pass, the mountain horse treading as securely and -safely as on a macadamised high road, and the cob -going very differently with a different rider. He was -then bestridden by his lawful owner, who prepared to -make good time into Bunjil. The moon was rising, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>when the men—so strangely met, and associated—parted. -Blount held out his hand, which the other -grasped with unconsciously crushing force. Then -the mountaineer quitted the road, and plunging down -the steep into the darksome forest, disappeared from -sight.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Bunjil township was reached before midnight. -There had been the local excitement of an improvised -race meeting, the head prize being a bridle and -saddle; the Consolation Stakes boasted a silver-mounted -whip, generously presented by the respected -host of the Bunjil Hotel. So that Mr. Blount, whose -train of thought for the last hour or two wavered between -encouragement and depression, as he dreaded -the inn being shut, the ostler asleep, the fire out and -the girl gone to bed, felt reassured as he heard voices -and saw lights, indicative of cheery wakefulness. By -good luck, too, the best bedroom and the parlour were -unoccupied. Sheila promised a fire in the latter -apartment and tea ready in less than no time. The -ostler took the cob to a loose box, just vacated, while -Mr. Blount having deposited his “swag” in the bedroom -and made all ready for a solid meal, and a royal -toasting of his person before the fire of logs, felt quite -a glow of happiness.</p> - -<p class='c008'>On re-entering the parlour he was warmly welcomed -by Sheila, who indeed was so unaffectedly cordial -in hailing his safe return, that the guest concluded -that there must have been reason for conjecturing -that the reverse might have occurred.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As she greeted him with natural unstudied welcome, -he could not resist taking both her hands in his, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>shaking them with a warmth corresponding with her -feeling of gratitude at his safe return from apparently -unknown and mysterious dangers. The girl blushed -and disengaged her hands, but showed no discomposure -as she said, “We didn’t know but something might -have happened to you, out in that wild place, and -Little-River-Jack said you had a narrow escape on -‘Razor Back,’ as your cob got frightened and might -have gone over the downfall like Paddy Farrell. -Then Dick came along, he sold out his share to you, -didn’t he? And he got on the spree for a day or -two and let out a few things that he’d better have -kept to himself. So taking it altogether, we’re all -glad, Mr. Middleton, the missis, and me too, that -you’re back safe and sound.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>While the latter part of this dialogue was proceeding, -Mr. Blount had seated himself at the table with -his back to the fire, and made a frontal attack upon -a broiled steak flanked by a dish of floury potatoes, -which told of the sharpening effect on the appetite -of a long day in the saddle, and the stimulation of a -night journey with two degrees of frost.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You had better take away these dishes, Sheila, -or I shall never stop eating. I think, however, that -I can hold out till breakfast, now we have got so -far.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>About this time the landlord appeared, blandly -apologetic for delay, but pleading the necessity for -being in the bar while there were so many “gents” -round anxious to go home on good terms with themselves.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“More likely to run against a fence, or the bough of -a tree,” said Sheila, who had now rejoined the party, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>“that’s the sort of ‘good terms with themselves,’ -that’s the fashion, Bunjil way. I wonder there’s not -more legs and arms broken than there are.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why, it’s a good month since you left us, Mr. -Blount,” said the landlord, cheerily unheeding the -maid’s moral reflections. “The Sergeant was here a -day or two back, and asked after you—Little-River-Jack -came last week, and talked of going away unless -things mended. He billed Stubbins for a quarter -of beef he owed him, and they had a row, and got to -fighting over it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How did that come off?” queried the guest, -dallying with his second cup of tea, and a plate of -buttered toast. “Jack’s rather a light weight.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So he is—but he can use his hands, and he’s that -active he takes a lot of beating. Well, the butcher -at Green Point is a couple of stone heavier, and -fancies himself a bit. He says, ‘You’d better summon -me, Jack!’ We all knew what that meant.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re takin’ a mean advantage,” says Jack, “it’s -a cowardly thing to do. But I’ll tell you what, if -you’re man enough, I’ll fight you for it—it’s a matter -of four notes—five and twenty shillings a hundred—are -you on?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All right!” says the Green Point chap; “so they -stripped to it, and had a regular ding-dong go in. -The butcher seemed to have the best of it at first, but -Jack wore him out, hittin’ and gettin’ away, and -dancin’ round him—all them tricks. At last he -bunged up his eyes and nearly blinded him, they say. -Then Jack went in and finished him; what with loss -of wind, and the punishment he got, the butcher was -clean knocked out afore the tenth round. So he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>didn’t come to time, and the referee gave it against -him. Jack got the four notes and cleared—the -butcher paid up honourable—but he couldn’t show -outside the shop for a fortnight afterwards.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A capital stand-up fight, I’m sure. I should like -to have been there to see it. And now, I think I’ll -turn in. I’m a bit tired, and dead sleepy. Good-night, -Mr. Middleton, good-night, Sheila! I’ll have -breakfast at nine o’clock, please, bacon and eggs is -my present fancy. I’ll stay in Bunjil a few days and -loaf for a change.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>If there is anything in life more conducive to -happiness than waking at dawn in the country, -assured of comfort, free from anxiety and relieved -from duty, few people have experienced it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>And nowhere can the rare luxury of the conditions -be more fully savoured than in Australia. Mr. -Blount was firmly of this opinion, as in virtue of his -late habitudes, the birds’ wild melody awoke him, as -the first dawnlight tinged the grey, reluctant East.</p> - -<p class='c008'>However, on reflection he decided to take another -hour’s repose, while all things were favourable to -such indulgence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then, between sleeping and waking, he dozed deliciously -until half-past seven, when he sallied forth, -towel in hand, to the creek bank. In the garden was -a rude, but competent bath-house, from which he was -enabled to plunge into the ice-cold stream.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Truth to tell, he did not make a lengthened stay -therein, the mercury being little, if anything, above -freezing point, but devoted himself to a complete -and conscientious scrubbing with the rough towel, at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>the conclusion of which, he found that a delicious glow -had rewarded his efforts, and the praiseworthy self-denial -of the cold-colder-coldest bath he had taken -as a daily custom, ever since he could remember. -It is the after taste, which, as in other matters, is so -truly luxurious.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Running back to the house, he saw that his expectation -of a full-sized, first-class fire in the breakfast -room had been realised. After warming himself at -this, he attacked the serious business of dressing for -the day, which he pursued with such diligence that -he was ready for the bacon and eggs, before referred -to, as nearly as possible at the appropriate hour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Got you a good fire, you see,” remarked Sheila, -who, smiling and rosy as the morn, stood in attendance. -“Hope you slept well. My word! we got an awful -start, didn’t know what was going to happen, when -Senior Constable Moore came here the day before -yesterday to get warrants for Little-River-Jack (<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">alias</span></i> -John Carter), Phelim O’Hara, his brother Patrick, and -also a man working in the claim, known as Jack Blunt, -and one ‘Tumberumba Dick.’ Asked me and Mr. -Middleton a lot of questions.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And what did you say?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We didn’t know much, or say much either, if it -comes to that. Yes! knew that Little-River-Jack -passed through here now and again. Where he went -to—couldn’t say—hadn’t seen him lately. Heard the -O’Haras were working miners from Queensland or -Gippsland—only seen them once. Tumberumba -Dick stayed a day or two here last week, and got on -the spree rather. Said he’d sold his share to Jack -Blunt, and was clearing out for West Australia. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>Little-River-Jack was a butcher, and supplied the -small diggings.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What did they ask about Jack Blunt, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! a lot. What was he like?—how was he -dressed?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Tall and dark” (I said), “not bad-looking.” Here -Mr. Blount bowed. “Dressed like any other gentleman -travelling for pleasure. Rough tweed suit and -leggings. Left a few things here. Went away a -month ago, with Little-River-Jack.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What for—did he say?” the Senior Constable asked.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! he talked quite free and open. Said he -wanted to see the country—what gold-diggings were -like, and all that. Jack promised to show him a -regular mountain claim—the ‘Lady Julia.’ Tumberumba -Dick when he came by, said ‘he’d sold his share -to him for £20. He was full up of mountain claims, -was clearing out for West Australia, where there were -big rises to be made.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why didn’t they serve warrants, then?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The Senior Constable had a long talk with our -old Sergeant—he’s retired now, but everybody puts -great faith in him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Did you hear what he said?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No—but it came out that the Sergeant told him -to be careful about arresting men on suspicion—there -was no direct evidence (those were the words) against -any of the men named. Nobody could swear to their -having been seen taking or branding cattle. Those -who knew the O’Haras spoke of them as hardworking -diggers—who sold their gold to Little-River-Jack or -got him to sell it for them. As for Jack Blunt they -said—” here the speaker hesitated.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>“Well, what did they say about him?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I hardly like to tell you, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! come, out with it. What does it matter?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, sir”—the girl smiled mischievously—“they -said—(that is Tumberumba Dick told some one, who -told some one else), that you were a harmless ‘New -Chum,’ that hardly knew a cow from a calf, and -couldn’t have ‘duffed’ a bullock off a range, if you’d -tried for a year.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Very complimentary indeed, I must say. So -everybody’s honest in this country who can’t ride—eh?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, yes, sir—about cattle; with sheep it’s -different.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I see—never struck me before. I’m glad my -honesty is undoubted in a cattle district, because I -can’t gallop down a range. They don’t fine or -imprison for bad riding, I suppose—<em>yet</em>. And so you -stood up for me, Sheila, didn’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How did you know that, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why, of course you did. I knew you would -because we’ve always been friends. Besides, I saw -you looking after me warningly the day I went away -with Jack Carter.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I know I did,” said the girl, impetuously. “I had -a great mind to say all I knew, and tell you to have -nothing to do with him or his mates.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And why didn’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, you were so set upon going, and it wasn’t -for a girl like me to advise a gentleman of your sort.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Every one is as -good as any one else in Australia. So the papers -say, at any rate.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>“Nothing of the sort. A gentleman is a gentleman, -and a servant girl a servant in Australia; all over -the world, if it comes to that. I don’t hold with this -democratic rot. All the same, there’s nothing to -prevent you and me having a talk now and then, as -long as we keep our places.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I should think not,” he rejoined, “and though I -might have got into a serious difficulty through -Carter’s introductions, I’m not sorry, on the whole, -that I went with him, the experience was most -interesting.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That means you saw somebody. Who was <em>she</em>, I -wonder? Men are all alike, gentle and simple. I -believe I could give a guess, as we heard you went -down the river.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>To this day Blount declares that he never enjoyed -a better meal; he certainly never had a better -appetite. And as the sun rising higher in the -heavens irradiated the meadows, the hurrying water -of the creek, the brilliant green of the opening buds -of the great elms and poplars that fringed that -streamlet, he admitted that the landscape was almost -worthy of the memorable meal.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After a leisurely assimilation of the journals of the -day, and a smoke in the verandah, he ordered the -cob to be brought round, being of opinion that gentle -exercise would be advantageous to his legs, which -the last day’s work might have tried unfairly. They -certainly had puffed, but there was no sign of lameness, -and his owner decided that daily exercise would -meet the complaint. Hearing that the Sergeant was -at home he resolved to look up that gallant officer, -and gather from him what rumour had asserted as to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>Little-River-Jack, the O’Haras, Mr. Bruce, and lastly -himself, if rumours there were.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He found the ex-guardian of the peace, and, so to -speak, warden of the marches, weeding his garden, a -trim, well-ordered plot, which, like the remainder of -his little property, was a standing object lesson to the -surrounding homesteads. Putting down his hoe, the -veteran advanced with an air of great cordiality, and -welcomed him.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Sae you have won back frae the Debatable Land, -as they ca’ed Nicol Forest in my youth. There have -been wars, and rumours o’ wars, but the week past; -warrants to be issued for Phelim and Patrick O’Hara, -and one Little-River-Jack (went by the name of -John Carter), forbye ‘Tumberumba Dick,’ and a -man known as Jack Blunt (<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">alias</span></i> Valentine Blount) -seen in company with the above on the 20th of -August last. Ay! it was openly said, and I was -lookin’ to see you arrive, maybe with the bracelets -on. What think ye of that?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That I should have had good cause of action for -false imprisonment,” answered the tourist. “But -why didn’t they issue the warrants?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Maybe they were no that sure aboot the evidence. -There’s neecessity, ye ken, that there should be full -and aample proof in thae ‘duffing’ cases, as the -country people ca’ them. A bush jury winna convict -as lang’s there a link short o’ the Crown Prosecutor’s -chain o’ evidence.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And was there? I feel personally much obliged -to the Department of Justice for their scruples, which -do them honour.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Weel, ye ken, though Mr. Bruce o’ Marondah -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>deposed on aith that he saw an E.H.B. bullock, his -property, with a J.C. brand put freshly on, there was -nae witness who saw John Carter or any ither carle -do it or the like. He missed cattle, sure enough, and -Black Paddy led him and two troopers to a deserted -claim known as the ‘Lady Julia,’ near which was a -stockyaird wi’ fresh cattle tracks baith in and oot. -They didna gang in their lane. A’body kens that. -But wha saw them gang in or gang oot? Strong -presumption, clear circumstantial evidence, but next -to nae proof. Sae the airm of the law was stayed—a -great peety, wasna it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Really, it seems like it. Fine paragraphs, lost to -the local press. Capture of cattle-stealers, a leading -butcher implicated. A gentleman lately from England -arrested. Damages laid by him for false imprisonment -at £10,000. Really, I might have bought a -station with the money, and been rich and respected. -Many a big squatter, Dick told me, had begun that -way, but he <em>had</em> stolen the cattle or sheep, and served -sentence for it, before he turned his talents to better -purpose.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Dick’s no to lippen to,” replied the Sergeant, -“nor nane o’ thae kind o’ folk. They’ll tell -lees by the bushel, gin ye stay to believe them. When -a’s said and done, laddie, ye’re well oot o’ it. Ye’ll -maybe tak’ heed o’ chance companions anither time.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Very possibly, Sergeant. It does appear as if I -had been a trifle imprudent. I must curb my spirit of -adventure, which has led me astray before now. I -nearly got shot in Spain through joining a band of -smugglers, they were such joyous dogs; and Manuela—ah! -what eyes! what a figure! It was rash, no -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>doubt, I must ask for references, another time. Ha! -Ha!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount treated the escape which he perceived -he had narrowly missed of being hauled before the -bar of justice, with apparent levity, but in his own -mind, he was conscious that affairs might have taken -a permanently disagreeable turn, and seriously compromised -him socially, however it ended. What would -the Bruce family think of him? What could Imogen -believe? Either that he shared the ill-gotten gains of -the O’Haras and their associates, or that he was so -inconceivably dense, and unsuspicious that any amount -of dishonesty might go on before his face, without his -being aware of it. On either assumption, he was -between the horns of a dilemma. Adjudged guilty -of folly, or dishonesty. His vexation was extreme. -However, he exhibited no outward signs of remorse, -and concluded his visit by thanking the Sergeant for -his information, and begging him to join him at dinner -if he had no lingering suspicion of his moral character.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Na! na! I’d pit ma haill trust in thee, if matters -luikit as black again. The glint in thae grey ’een -werena given thee for naught; we’ll hae mair cracks -before a’s said and done; the spring’s to be airly, I’m -thinking.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The season was more advanced than when Blount -first entered Bunjil, the warmer weather had made it -apparent that “the year had turned.” The meadow -grasses had grown and burgeoned, the English trees -always planted near the older settlements in Australia, -many of them the growth of half a century, -were nearly full leaved, putting to shame with their -brilliant colouring, and opulent shade, the duller hues -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>of the primeval forest. The water-fowl in flocks flew -and dived and swam in the great lagoons, which -marked the ancient course of the river. The cattle -and horses browsing in the lanes and vacant spaces, -were sleek of skin, and fair to behold. All nature -spoke of abundance of pasture. In this fertile valley -there was no hint of the scarcity, which once, at any -rate, within the recollection of men then living had -been known to overspread the land: when this very -spot, now running over with plenteousness, the vine, -the olive, the fig, peaches, and plums, apples, and -pears, in full leaf and promise of fruit, was bare and -adust, the creek even dry, between the great water-holes, -for half a mile at a stretch.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount on returning from his ride found a large -assortment of letters and newspapers awaiting him. -Among them was a telegram marked <em>Urgent</em>. This -bore the postmark of a neighbouring colony and had -been forwarded by private messenger, at some expense. -Thus ran the magic message:—“Hobart, 20th. Come -over at once. No delay. Great news. Credit unlimited, -Imperial Bank, Melbourne.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Walking straight into his bedroom, he threw the -letters on to the counterpane of his bed, and drawing -forward a chair, proceeded to open his correspondence -seriatim. After noting date and signature, he returned -the greater portion of them to their envelopes, -postponing fuller examination to a more convenient -season. The last two, which bore the postmark of -the nearest post-office to Marondah, he retained. Of -its name he was aware, having heard the ladies asking -that the post-bag should be delayed for a few minutes -on account of their unfinished letters.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>He did not linger over the first, addressed in a -strong, clear, masculine hand. There was no difficulty -in mastering its tone and tenor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>Sir</span>,—I feel justly indignant that I should have -extended hospitality to a person who, while assuming -the outward appearance of a gentleman, has proved -by his conduct to be unworthy of recognition as -such.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“As an associate of the O’Hara brothers and two -others, who, under pretence of mining, have in concert -with a well-known gang of cattle stealers, preyed on -my herd and those of neighbouring stations, for the -last two years, you have laid yourself open to grave -suspicion. I cannot be expected to believe that you -were, although a new arrival, so unsuspicious as to -have no knowledge of their dishonest ways. In a -stockyard near the claim, branding as well as concealment -of stolen cattle had been carried on.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You were present when I pointed out my E. H. B. -bullock, on which a new brand had been recently -placed. You knew that I suspected dishonesty in -that neighbourhood. Was it not your plain duty to -have informed me of any suspicious proceedings? -Not only did you fail to do so, but, while accepting -my hospitality, you suppressed the fact of your living -as a mining mate with the O’Hara brothers, and -other suspicious characters, as well as that the -notorious ‘Little-River-Jack’ was a member of the -same precious company. I believe that warrants -have been applied for at the instance of one of my -neighbours. Should you find that you are included -in the arrest, you will only have yourself to thank for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>incredible folly, or criminal carelessness, as to the -distinction between <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">meum</span></i> and <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">tuum</span></i>.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“I remain, faithfully yours,</div> - <div class='line in6'>“<span class='sc'>E. Hamilton Bruce</span>.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“Very faithfully, indeed,” quoth the recipient of -this plain-spoken epistle. “Under the circumstances -I don’t wonder at the wrath of this Squire of the South. -It is but too natural. Fancy a game-preserving -English country gentleman, discovering that a recent -guest, free of croquet and morning walks with his -charming wife and daughters, had been sojourning -with poachers—partaking, peradventure, of his host’s -own stolen pheasants! ‘Six months’ hard’ would -have been the least, and lightest penalty, that he -would have dropped in for, and but for having a friend -or two at court, or out of it, Valentine Blount, late -of Her Majesty’s F.O., by courtesy the Honourable, -and so forth, might have ‘done time’ for the heinous -offence of having concealed on his person certain -beefsteaks and portions of the ‘undercut’ for the -possession of which he could give no reasonable -account—moreover defied the peace officer to take -them from him. This of course is bordering upon a -joke, and a very keen jest it was like to have been. -Maybe yet, for all I know. What d—d fools men -are sometimes! This I take to be a feminine superscription—the -contents less logical, and perhaps—<em>perhaps</em> -only—more emotional, and less lenient of -sentence. I wonder what Mrs. Bruce and the fair -Imogen think of the agreeable stranger (I have been -thus described, ere now), who tarried within their -gates. I feel distinctly nervous, however.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>Here Mr. Blount carefully opened the envelope, and -was slightly reassured by the “Dear Mr. Blount” which -introduced the subject-matter.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We are afraid, Imogen and I, that Edward has -written you an extremely disagreeable, not to say -threatening letter. He was furiously angry, would -hear neither reason nor explanation, when the O’Hara -stockyard mystery was unveiled. You <em>must</em> confess -that explanation <em>was</em> difficult, not to say embarrassing -for your friends. <em>We</em> are certain that there has been -some great mistake which needs clearing up without -delay. It will never do for you to lie under this -accusation—false as we believe it to be—of living -with dishonest people, and with the knowledge of -their malpractices; of course, you may not know that -no men are more artful in hiding their true characters -than our bush cattle and horse thieves (or ‘duffers’) -to use a vulgar expression. They are <em>not</em> coarse -ruffians—on the contrary very well-mannered, -hospitable, even polite, when compared with the -labourers of other lands; good-natured, and most -obliging, outside of their ‘profession.’ Indeed I heard -a story from a nice old priest, that visited our station, -when I was a girl, which explains much. A bushman -was dilating on the noble qualities of a comrade. -‘Jack’s the best-hearted chap going; good-natured? -why, he’d lend you his best horse, if you was stuck -for one on the road. If he hadn’t a horse handy, why, -he’d <em>shake</em> one for you, rather than let you leave the -place afoot!’ Of course the situation <em>looks</em> bad, on -the face of it, but Imogen and I will <em>never</em> believe -anything against your honour. You have a friend at -court, perhaps two.” Besides this—there was a tiny -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>scrap inside the envelope, apparently pushed in <em>after</em> -the letter had been closed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t believe you <em>knew</em> anything.—<span class='sc'>Imogen.</span>”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount read this soothing epistle twice over and -put away the scrap in his pocket-book very carefully. -Having done this, he sat down and wrote hard until -summoned to lunch, after which he packed up carefully -all his belongings, leaving out only such as -might be wanted for an early morning start. He -was more grave than usual at that comfortable meal, -and it was with an effort that he replied to Sheila’s -query whether he’d received bad news.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not bad, no! only important, which comes almost -to the same thing. You have to think over plans and -make up your mind, perhaps, to start off at a -moment’s warning, which is always distressing.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! nonsense,” said Sheila, who seemed in better -spirits than usual. “I often wish I were a man; how -I would wire in when there was anything to do, even -if it was only <em>half</em> good. Men do too much thinking, -I believe. If they’d only ride hard at the fence, -whatever it is, they’d get over, or through it, and -have a clear run for their money.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But suppose they came a cropper and broke a leg, -an arm, or their neck, as I see one of your steeplechase -riders did at Flemington the other day, what -then?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! a man must die some time,” replied the -cheerful damsel, who looked indeed the personification -of high health, abounding spirits, and as much -courage as can be shown by a woman without indiscretion, -“and you get through nine times out of -ten: the great thing is to go at it straight. ‘Kindness -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>in another’s woes, courage in your own,’ that’s -what Gordon says.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Who is Gordon, may I ask?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why, Adam Lindsay, of course, our Australian -poet. Haven’t you heard of him? I thought everybody -had.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And do you read him?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes. Every Australian man, woman, and child, -if they’re old enough, knows him by heart.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think I’ve caught the name. Was he born -here?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Is he dead? Perhaps you’ve heard of Mark -Twain?” said Sheila scornfully, who seemed to be in -rather a reckless humour. “Well! he is. No! he -was not born here, more’s the pity, for he knows us -cornstalks better than we know ourselves. He was -the son of a British officer, the family’s Scotch. I’m -half Scotch, that’s partly why I am so proud of him. -But it would have been all the same whatever country -owned him. I find my tongue’s running away with -me, as usual—the unruly member, as the Bible says. -But you take my tip, Mr. Blount, ‘never change your -mind when you pick your panel’ (that’s Gordon -again), it’s the real straight griffin, with horse or -man.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This <em>is</em> a wonderful country, and you’re a wonderful -young woman. I haven’t time to analyse you, just -now, for my affairs, which I had intended to treat to -a short holiday, are conspiring to hurry me up. At -what hour can I leave in the morning?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“To-morrow?” said the girl, and her face changed. -“You don’t mean to say you’re going away to-morrow?”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>“Sorry to say I must; you saw that I got a telegram, -and if I don’t <em>clear</em>, as your people say, I may -lose thousands, perhaps a fortune.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The coach goes at six, sharp; and gets to the -railway-station at the same hour the next morning. -You’d like breakfast first, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s too early to ask you to have it ready—anything -will do.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! I daresay. You’ve had some decent meals -here, haven’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Never better in my life.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, you’ll go away to-morrow, fit and ready for -as long a day’s work as ever you did. It’s almost a -pity you’re having the Sergeant to dine. However, -he’ll not stay late. I’ll send over and take your coach -tickets. You’d better have everything packed and -ready this afternoon. Cobb and Co. wait for nothing -and nobody.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There’s no doubt (Mr. Blount told himself) that -the conditions of life in Her Majesty’s colonies tend -to the development of the individual with a completeness -undreamed of in our narrow and perhaps -slightly prejudiced insular life. What a difference -there is between this young woman and a girl of her -rank of life in any part of Britain. What energy, -intelligence, organising power she has; I feel certain -that she could rally a wavering regiment on a pinch, -drive a coach, ride a race, or swim a river, in fact do -all sorts of things, as well as, ay, better than, the -ordinary man. This is going to be a great country, -and the Australians a great people—arts of war and -peace, and so on. How good-looking she is, too,” -concluding his reflections with this profound observation, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>which showed that in spite of his subjective -turn of mind, the primary emotions still held sway.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount betook himself to his packing with such -concentration, that by the time he had finished his -letters, nothing remained of his impedimenta, but -such as could be easily carried out and packed in -the coach, while he was finishing a distinctly early -breakfast.</p> - -<p class='c008'>These said letters required much thought and -preparation, it would appear. First there was a -vitally necessary answer to Mr. Bruce’s warlike -communication. To this he concluded to reply as -follows:</p> - -<div class='c010'>“<span class='sc'>Bunjil Hotel</span>, <i>September</i>—.</div> - -<p class='c008'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Sir</span>,—While fully admitting that appearances -are against me, I think that you might with -propriety have suspended judgment, if not until the -offences charged against me were proved, or, at least, -until you had heard my explanation, which I give -seriatim.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No. 1. As a matter of fact, I did live with the -O’Haras and two other men on the ‘Lady Julia’ -claim. They were hardworking, and well-conducted -miners. For all that I saw, they might have been -the most honest men in Australia. I knew that -cattle were brought to the stockyard late, and taken -away early. I judged it to be the custom of the -country, and accepted their statement that they were -bought and sold in the ordinary way. I was -cautioned not to go near the yard for fear of frightening -them. I did not see a brand, or look for one—nor -should I have known its significance if I had. As -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>to the O’Haras, and their ‘mates,’ whatever might -have been their previous history, no men could have -worked harder, or more regularly; they could not -have <em>actively</em> assisted in the cattle trade without my -noticing it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No. 2. That I did not inform you of my position -in the claim.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It would certainly appear to have been my duty -so to do under ordinary circumstances, after I knew -of your suspicions. But the circumstances were <em>not</em> -ordinary.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And the question arises, Should I have been -justified in betraying—for that would have been the -nature of the act—the <em>suspicious</em>, merely suspicious -circumstances, which I observed during my involuntary -comradeship with these men? I had -eaten their salt, been treated with respect, and in -all good faith shared their confidences. Moreover—and -this is the strongest point in my defence—the -man known as Little-River-Jack—of his real name, -of course, I am ignorant—certainly <em>saved my life</em>, on -the dizzy and narrow pass, known locally as ‘Razor -Back’—of that I feel as certain as that I am writing -at this table. In another moment, my frightened -horse, unused to mountain travelling, would have -assuredly fallen, or thrown himself over the precipice, -which yawned on either side of him, while I was -equally unable either to control him or to dismount. -By this bushman’s extraordinary quickness and -resource, I was enabled to do both. Was I to give -information which would have driven him into the -hands of the police?</p> - -<p class='c008'>“As a citizen, I may have been bound to assist the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>cause of justice. But as a <em>man</em>, I felt that I could not -bring myself to do so.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“3. For the rest, I dissociated myself without more -delay than was absolutely necessary to collect my -effects, and return the borrowed horse, from such -compromising company. I was offered my ‘share’—not -a very small amount—of the last gold won, but -declined it, and riding late, reached this hotel at -midnight of the day we parted. I heard that the -senior constable of the nearest police station had -instructions to take out warrants for the persons -referred to, including <em>myself</em>, but, from some alleged -defect in the evidence, that course was not persevered -with.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Circumstances (wholly unconnected with this -unfortunate affair) compel me to leave to-morrow -morning for Tasmania. I have entered fully into the -‘case for the defendant.’ If the jury consisting of -yourself, with your amiable wife and her sister—whose -kindness I can never forget, and on whose mercy I -rely—do not acquit me of all evil intent, I can only -hope that time may provide the means of my -complete rehabilitation. Meanwhile I can subscribe -myself with a clear conscience,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Yours sincerely,</div> - <div class='line in4'>“<span class='sc'>Valentine Blount</span>.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Having with much thought, and apparent labour, -concocted this conciliatory epistle, of which he much -doubted the effect, he commenced another which apparently -did not need the same strain upon the mental -faculties. This was addressed to Mrs. E. Hamilton -Bruce, Marondah, Upper Sturt, and thus commenced:</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>“<span class='sc'>Dear Mrs. Bruce</span>,—To say that for your kind -and considerate letter I feel most deeply grateful, -would be to understate my mental condition lamentably. -After reading Mr. Bruce’s letter, it seemed as -if the whole world was against me; and, conscious as -I was of entire innocence, except of an act of egregious -folly (not the first one, I may confess, which a -sanguine temperament and a constitutional disregard -of caution have placed to my account), my spirits -were lowered to the level of despair. There seemed -no escape from the dilemma in which I found myself.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I stood convicted of egregious folly, or dishonour, -with the sin of ingratitude thrown in. I could not -wonder at the harsh tone of your husband’s letter. -What must he—what must you all—think of me? -was the inexorable query. Suicide seemed the only -refuge. Moral <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">felo-de-se</span></i> had already been committed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“At this juncture I re-read your letter, for which I -shall never cease to bless the writer, and, may I add, -the probable sympathiser? Hope again held up her -torch, angel bright, if but with a wavering gleam. I -regained courage for a rational outlook. I think I -gave a sketch of my imminent peril and the rescuer to -Miss Imogen, as we rode away from Marondah on -that lovely morning. Her commentary was that it -was not unlike an incident in <cite>Anne of Geierstein</cite>, -except that the heroine was the deliverer in that case. -We agreed, I think, in rating the book as one of the -best in the immortal series.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I have fully explained the position in which I -stand, to Mr. Bruce in my letter, which you will -doubtless see, so I need not recapitulate. I have been -recalled on important business (unconnected with this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>regrettable affair) to Hobart, for which city I leave -early to-morrow. Meanwhile, I trust that all doubts -connected with my inconsistent conduct will be cleared -up with the least possible delay.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“In which fullest expectation,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“I remain,</div> - <div class='line in2'>“Very gratefully yours,</div> - <div class='line in4'>“<span class='sc'>Valentine Blount</span>.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>The writer of these important letters, after having -carefully sealed them, made assurance doubly sure by -walking to the post-office, and placing them with his -own hands in the receptacle for such letters provided. -He further introduced himself to the acting postmaster, -and ascertained that all correspondence—his -own included—which were addressed to the vicinity -of Bunjil, would be forwarded next morning soon -after daylight, reaching their destination early on the -following morning. “It’s only a horse mail,” said that -official, “the bags are carried on a pack-horse. But -Jack Doyle’s a steady lad, and always keeps good -time—better, for that matter, than some of the coach-contractors.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The rest of Mr. Blount’s correspondence was apparently -easily disposed of, some being granted short -replies, some being placed in a convenient bag, and -others unfeelingly committed to the flames. About -the time when the Sergeant and dinner arrived, Mr. -Blount held himself to be in a position of comparative -freedom from care, having all his arrangements -made, and, except Fate stepped in with special -malignity, everything in train for a successful conclusion -to a complicated, unsatisfactory beginning. His -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>city address was left with the acting postmaster -aforesaid; all letters, papers, &c., were to be forwarded -to Valentine Blount, Esq., Imperial Club, -Melbourne.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He would probably return in three weeks or a -month; if not, full directions would be forwarded by -his agent.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The dinner was quite up to the other efforts of the -Bunjil Hotel <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">chef</span></i>, an expatriated artist whom advanced -political opinions had caused to abandon -“la belle France.” So <em>he</em> said, amid the confessions, -indirect or otherwise, made during his annual -“break-out.” But his cookery was held to confirm -that part of his statement, as well as a boast that he -had been <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">chef</span></i> at the Hôtel du Louvre in Paris. -Whatever doubt might be cast on his statements and -previous history, as related by himself, no one had -ever dreamed of disparaging his cookery. This being -the case, and the time wanting nearly three months -to Christmas, which was the extreme limit of his -enforced sobriety, neither Mr. Blount nor any one -else could have complained of the banquet.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Nor was “the flow of soul” wanting. The -Sergeant was less didactic than usual; he drew on -his reminiscences more and more freely as the -evening grew late, and the landlord contributed his -quota, by no means without pith or point, to the -hilarity of the entertainment. The Sergeant, however, -completely eclipsed the other <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">convives</span></i> by a -choice experience drawn from his memory wallet, as -he turned out that receptacle of “tales of mystery -and fear,” which decided the landlord and his guest -to “see him home” at the conclusion of the repast.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>This duty having been completed, Mr. Blount was -moved to remark upon the fineness of the night. It -was certainly curiously mild and still. “Quite like -spring weather.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Middleton looked up and expressed himself -doubtfully as to its continuance. “It’s too warm to -be natural, sir,” he said, “and if I was asked my -opinion, I’d say we’re not far from a burst up, either -wind or rain, I don’t say which, a good way out of the -common. If you’re in a hurry to get to Melbourne, -you were right to take your passage by Cobb and -Co., or you might not get away for a week.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I wouldn’t lose a week just now for a hundred -pounds.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, of course, it’s hard to say, but if the creeks -and rivers come down, as I’ve seen ’em in a spring -flood, and we’re close on the time now, there’ll be no -getting to Warongah in a week, or perhaps a fortnight -on top of that. But I think, if you get off to-morrow -morning, you’ll just do it, and that’s all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>When they returned all traces of the symposium -had been removed, and the cloth laid ready for the -early breakfast, which Blount trusted nothing would -occur to prevent him from consuming.</p> - -<p class='c008'>On the plate at the head of the table, near the fire-place, -was a half-sheet of notepaper, on which was -written in bold characters:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Sir</span>,—The groom will call you at five -sharp, breakfast at 5.30. Coach leaves at six. I’ve -got you the box seat.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Yours truly,</div> - <div class='line in4'>“<span class='sc'>Sheila</span>.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>“That’s a fine girl,” said the landlord, “she’s got -‘savey’ enough for a dozen women; and as for work, -it’s meat and drink to her. The missus is afraid she’ll -knock herself out, and then we’ll be teetotally ruined -and done for. I hope she won’t throw herself away -on some scallowag or other.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! it would be a pity. I take quite an interest -in her. But she has too much sense for that, surely?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I don’t know,” answered the landlord, gloomily, -“the more sense a woman has, the likelier she is to -fancy a fool, if he’s good-looking, that’s my tip. Good-night, -sir. I’ll be up and see you off. Old George -will call you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! I shall be up and ready, thank you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The landlord, however, having exceptional opportunities -of studying human nature, warned old George -to have the gentleman up at 5 a.m. sharp, which in -result was just as well. For Blount being too excited -from various causes to sleep, had tossed and tumbled -about till 3 a.m., when he dropped into a refreshing -slumber, so sound that George’s rat-tat-tat, vigorous -and continued on his bedroom door, caused him to -dream that all the police of the district, headed by -Mr. Bruce and Black Paddy, had come to arrest him, -and were battering down the hotel in order to effect a -capture.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER VI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>A dip</span> in the creek, and a careful if hasty toilet, -produced a complete change of ideas. The morning -was almost too fine, the leaves of the great poplars -were unstirred, which gave an unnaturally calm and -eerie appearance to the landscape. This was not -dispelled by the red sun shedding a theatrical glare -over the snow-peaks and shoulders of the mountain -range.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My holiday’s over, Sheila!” said he, moving from -the fire front to the table upon which was such an -appetising display that he wished he had gone to bed -a little earlier. However, the savour of the devilled -turkey reassured him, and he felt more drawn towards -the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">menu</span></i> which was to form the sustaining meal of -the day. “Now, what do <em>you</em> think of the weather? -Shall I have a safe journey to the station?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, you may, and you may not, sir. We all -think there’s a big storm coming; if it’s wind, it -may blow a tree down on the coach and horses; if -it rains hard, there’ll be a flood, which will rise the -Kiewah and the Little River in a few hours, so as -they can’t be crossed under a week.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That’s a bad look out!” said the traveller, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>making good time with the scrambled eggs and -toast, which succeeded the devilled turkey, “but -we’ll have to go straight at it, as your friend and -philosopher, Gordon, has it. By the way, I bought -a copy at the post-office store, so I can read it on the -way down and think of you when I come to the lines -‘Kindness in another’s trouble,’ and so on.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! I daresay,” replied the girl, “a lot you’ll -think about me when you’re on the road to Melbourne -and wherever else you’re bound for. But we’ll all -remember <em>you</em> here, never fear! And if you ever -come back, you’ll see how glad all hands will be to -welcome you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“<em>You’re</em> only too good to me, but why should the -other people have this sort of feeling towards me?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, one reason is that you never put on any -side, as they call it. You’ve been free and easy with -them, without being too familiar. The country -people hereabouts, and in the bush generally, may be -rough, and haven’t seen much, but they know a gentleman -when they see one, and besides, there’s another -reason—” And here she seemed to hesitate.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And what might that be?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, it came out somehow, I don’t know how, -that when you were ‘pinched’ (that is, nearly arrested -and tried for being ‘in’ with the O’Haras and Little-River-Jack -in the cattle racket), that you wouldn’t -give them away; never let on that you’d been with -them in the claim, or seen cattle in their yard or -anything.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But, my dear Sheila! I heard nothing and saw -nothing that the town-crier at the market-place (is -there one in this droll country, I wonder?) might not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>have proclaimed aloud. I didn’t know there was any -‘cross’ work (is that right?) going on. I certainly -guessed after I visited Mr. Bruce that I might just as -well not advertise the O’Haras, and as Little-River-Jack -certainly saved my life on Razor Back, how -<em>could</em> I give him up to the law? Now, could I?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not as a gentleman, sir, I should say. I suppose -Mr. Bruce is pretty wild about it, after you being at -his house and all that. He’s a fine man, Mr. Bruce; -all he’s got he’s earned. His brother and he worked -like niggers when first they came from home. Now -they’re well off, and on the way to be richer still. -But no man likes to be robbed, rich or poor. He’ll -have Jack yet for this if he don’t mind, sharp as he -is.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, I suppose it serves him right.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I suppose it does,” said the girl, hesitatingly; “but -I can’t help feeling sorry for him, he’s so pleasant and -plucky, and such a bushman. He can find his way -through those Wombat Ranges, they say, the darkest -night that ever was, and drive cattle besides.”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘’Tis pity of him, too, he cried,</div> - <div class='line'>Bold can he speak, and fairly ride,’</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>as the Douglas said about Marmion, who, though -more highly placed than poor Jack, was but indifferent -honest after all. Do you read Walter Scott?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, I’ve read bits of the <cite>Lady of the Lake</cite> -and <cite>Marmion</cite> too. We had them to learn -by heart at school. Only I haven’t much time to -read now, have I? It’s early up and down late. -But you’d better finish your breakfast; it’s getting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>on to six o’clock, and I see Josh walking down to the -stable.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So I will; but tell me, how do you write out a -receipt for a horse when you’ve sold him?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! easy enough. ‘This is to certify that I have -sold my bay horse, branded “J. R.” (or whatever he -is) to Job Jones for value received.’ That’s enough; -you’ve only to sign your name and put a stamp on.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nothing could be simpler. Get the landlord to -receipt my bill while I write out a cheque, and ask -George if he’s put my saddle and bridle into the -coach.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The girl ran out. He wrote the cheque for the -account, which he had seen before breakfast. Then -more carefully, a receipt for the cob in the name of -Sheila Maguire, in which he enclosed a sovereign. -“Isn’t that your side-saddle? Where’s your horse? -You haven’t got one, eh? Why, I thought every girl -in this country had one.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mine got away; I’m afraid I’ll never see him -again.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What will you give me for the cob? he’s easy and -safe if you don’t try the Razor Back business with -him?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I wouldn’t mind chancing a tenner for him, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Would you, though? Well, I’ll take it. There’s -the receipt. You can pay me when I ask for it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>At that moment, the coachman having drawn on -his substantial gloves, mounted the box and called -out “All aboard!” Mr. Blount pressed the receipt -and the sovereign into the girl’s reluctant hand, who -came out of the room with rather a heightened colour, -while the driver drew his lines taut as the passenger -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>mounted the box and was whirled off, if not in the -odour of sanctity, yet surrounded with a halo (so to -speak) of cheers and good wishes.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Once off and bowling along a fairly good road -behind a team of four fast horses, specially picked for -leaving or approaching towns, a form of advertisement -for the great coaching firm of Cobb and Co. (then, as -now, famed for speed, safety and punctuality throughout -the length and breadth of Australasia), Mr. -Blount’s spirits began to improve, keeping pace, -indeed, with the rising of the sun and his own progress. -That luminary in this lovely month of early -spring was seen in his most favourable aspect.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The merry, brawling river, now rushing over “bars” -gleaming with quartz pebbles, the boom of the “water-gun,” -the deep, reed-fringed reaches, in which the -water-fowl dived and fluttered, alike engaged the -traveller’s alert interest. The little river took wilful, -fantastic curves, as it seemed to him through the -broad green meadows. Sometimes close-clinging to -a basaltic bluff, over which the coach appeared to -hang perilously, while on the other side was the mile-wide, -level greensward, thickly covered with grazing -kine and horses. The driver, a wiry native from the -Shoalhaven gullies, was cheerful and communicative.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He was in a position to know and enlarge upon the -names and characters of the different proprietors of -the estates through which they passed. The divisions -were indicated by gates in the fences crossing the roads -at right angles, at which period Mr. Joshua Cable -requested his passenger to drive through while he -jumped down and opened the gates and shut them after -the operation was concluded. As this business was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>only necessary at distances varying from five to ten -miles apart, the stoppages were not serious; though -in one instance, where the enclosure was small and -the number of gates unreasonably large, his temper -was ruffled.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“D—n these gates,” he said; “they’re enough to -ruin a chap’s temper. They put up a new cross fence -here—wire, too—since I was here last. This is a -bother, but when a man is driving by himself at night it’s -worse. And they can summons you, and fine you two -pounds and costs for leaving a gate open, worse luck!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How do you manage then?” asked the passenger, -all unused to seeing a coach and four without groom -or guard.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, it’s rather a ticklish bit of work, even with a -pair, if they’re at all touchy, as I’ve had ’em, many a -time. You drive round before you come to the gate -and tie your leaders to the fence as close as you can -get ’em. I carry halters, and that’s the best and -safest way; but if you haven’t ’em with you, you -must do the best you can with the lead reins. -You’re close enough to jump to their heads and -muzzle ’em if they’re making a move. No chance to -stop four horses <em>after</em> they’re off. When you’ve -opened the gate and driven through, you have to turn -your team back and let ’em stand with the leaders’ -heads over the fence till you’ve shut the gate. If it’s -a gate that’ll swing back to the post, and you’ve -only a pair, you may manage to give it a shove just -as it clears the hind wheels, but it’s a chance. It’s a -nuisance, especially at night time and in rainy -weather, but there’s nothing else for it, and it’s best -always to keep sweet with the owners of the property -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>the road runs through. Now we’ve five miles without -a gate,” said Josh Cable as he led his horses out and -proceeded to make up time, with three horses at a -hand gallop, and the off-wheeler, a very fast horse, -trotting about fourteen miles an hour; “the road’s -level, too. We’ll pull up in another hour at the -Horse and Jockey for dinner.” It may be explained -that in Australian road-travel, whatever may be the -difference of climate, which ranges indeed from sunshine -to snow, the “dinner” so called, is the meal -taken at or about mid-day—an hour or two, one way -or another, not being regarded of importance. The -evening meal at sundown, allowing for circumstances, -is invariably “tea,” though by no means differing in -essentials from the one at mid-day. It is at the option -of the traveller to order and pay extra for the orthodox -“dinner,” with wine, if procurable, as an adjunct.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Horse and Jockey Hotel was duly reached, the -half-hour dinner despatched, and, at sunrise, the railway -station at Warongah reached, into which, after a -hurried meal, Mr. Blount was enabled to hurl himself -and luggage, the train not being crowded. Long -before this hour he had ample time to admire the skill -used in driving on a road never free from stumps and -sidelings, creeks, and other pitfalls. Certainly the -<em>seven</em> lamps, which he had never seen before on a -coach, assisted the pilot’s course, with the light afforded -by the great burners, three on high above the roof of -the composite vehicle, a sort of roofed “cariole” -defended as to the sides by waterproof curtains; while -four other lamps gave the driver confidence, as they -enabled him to see around and for some distance -ahead as clearly as in the day.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>In sixteen hours from the terminus Mr. Blount was -safely landed per cab at the Imperial Club, Melbourne, -in which institution he enjoyed the privileges of an -honorary member, and was enabled to learn that the -<i>Pateena</i> would leave the Queen’s Wharf at four o’clock -p.m. next day for Launceston. Here he half expected to -have one or more letters in answer to his appeal to -the mercy of the Court as represented by Mrs. Bruce -and Miss Imogen, or its justice, in the shape of -Edward Hamilton Bruce of Marondah, a magistrate -of the Territory. But none came. Other epistles of -no importance, comparatively; also a fiery telegram -from Hobart, “Don’t lose time. Your presence -urgently needed.” So making arrangements for his -correspondence to follow him to the Tasmanian Club, -Hobart, he betook himself to the inter-colonial -steamship, and at bed-time was sensible that a -“capful” of wind was vexing the oft-turbulent Straits -of Bass.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Hobart—the peaceful, the picturesque, the peerless -among Australian summer climates, whether late or -early. Hither come no scorching blasts, no tropical -rains. Nestling beneath the shadow of Mount -Wellington, semi-circled by the broad and winding -Derwent, proving by old-fashioned—in many instances -picturesquely ruinous—edifices, <a id='it'></a>it claims to be one -of Britain’s earliest outposts. Mr. Blount, from the -moment of his landing, found himself in an atmosphere -about as peacefully secluded as at Bunjil.</p> - -<p class='c008'>From this Elysian state of repose, he was routed -immediately after breakfast by the tempestuous -entrance of Mr. Frampton Tregonwell, Mining Expert -<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>and Consulting Engineer, as was fully set forth on his -card, sent in by the waiter.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Bless my soul!” called out this volcanic personage, -as soon as he entered the door which he shut carefully -behind him. “You are a most extraordinary chap! -One would think you had been born in Tasmania, -instead of the Duchy of Cornwall, whence all the -Captains of the great mining industry have come -from since the days of the Phœnicians and even -earlier. Lucky you picked up a partner who is as -sharp, excuse me, as you are—ahem—Blount!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“When I’m told what all this tirade is about, ending -with an atrocious pun, perhaps I may be able to -reply,” answered the object of the attack, complacently -finishing his second cup of tea.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Did you get my telegram? Answer me that, -Valentine Blount.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I did, and have come over to this tight little island -at great personal inconvenience, as you may have -observed, Mr. Tregonwell!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Have you any recollection of our buying a half -share in a prospecting silver claim, of four men’s -ground, in the West Coast?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I do seem to recall some such transaction, just -before I left for Australia. All the fellows I met in the -Hobart Club told me it was a swindle, and advised -me not to put a pound in it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That was the reason that you <em>did</em> invest in it, if I -know you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Precisely, I’ve rarely taken advice against my own -judgment that I haven’t regretted it. Did it turn out -well?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well! Well? It’s the richest silver lode in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>island, in all Australasia—” almost shouted Tregonwell—“fifty -feet wide; gets richer, and richer as it goes -down. I’ve been offered twenty thousand pounds, -cash down, for my half; you could get the same if -you care to take it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve a great mind to take it,” said Blount languidly -“—mines are so uncertain. Here to-day, gone to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Take it?” said his partner, with frenzied air, and -trembling with excitement, “<em>take</em> it! Well!”—suddenly -changing his tone—“I’ll give you a drive this afternoon, -capital cabs they have here, and the best horses -I’ve seen out of England. The way they rattle down -these hills on the metal is marvellous! We can’t -start for the mine till to-morrow morning; I suppose -you’d like to see it? But if you’re determined to sell, -I’d like you to see a friend of mine first. He has a -magnificent place a few miles out. He’d be charmed -to meet you, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Certainly, by all means. What’s your friend’s -name? Is he a squatter or a fruit-grower? They -seem to be the leading industries over here.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Neither; he’s a medical man in large practice. -His name is Macandrew. Medical superintendent -of the new Norfolk lunatic asylum.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, really, Tregonwell, this is too bad,” answered -the other partner, roused from his habitual coolness. -“Has it escaped your memory that <em>you</em> wished to -sell out before I left for Australia, that I stuck to the -claim, and have been paying my share of expenses -ever since?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Quite true, old fellow; it was your confounded -obstinacy and luck combined, a sheer fluke, which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>has landed us where we are, not a particle of judgment -on either side; and now, then, let’s get through -business detail before lunch. I have it all here.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Tregonwell was a thoroughbred Cornishman, -short, square set, and immensely powerful. His -coal-black, close-curled hair, with dark, deep-set eyes, -short, upright forehead, and square jaw proclaimed -him a “Cousin Jack” to all who had ever rambled -through the picturesque Duchy, or heard the surges -boom on castle-crowned Tintagil. In one way or -other he had been interested in mines since his -boyhood; had, indeed, delved below sea level in -those stupendous shafts in his native place of Truro.</p> - -<p class='c008'>An off-shoot of a good old Cornish family, he had -worked up to his present position from a penniless -childhood and a youth not disdaining hard manual -labour as a miner, when none better was to be had. -This gave him a more thorough knowledge of the -underground world and its inhabitants than he could -otherwise have obtained. As a mining “Captain” -therefore, his reputation had preceded him from the -silver mines of Rio Tinto in Mexico and the great -goldfields of California. A noted man in his way, a -type worthy of observation by a student of human -nature, like Valentine Blount, who, having added him -to his collection, had drifted into friendship, and a -speculative partnership which was destined to colour -his after life.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As there remained a couple of hours open to such -a task before lunch, the partners settled down to a -“square business deal,” as Mr. Tregonwell (who had -possessed himself of trans-Atlantic and other idioms) -phrased it; in the course of which the following facts -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>were elicited. That the stone, in the first place -accidentally discovered as an out-drop in one of the -wildest, most desolate, regions of the West Coast of -Tasmania, was the richest ever discovered in any -reefing district “South of the Line,” as Mr. Tregonwell -magniloquently expressed it. On sinking, even -richer ore came to light, “as much silver as stone” in -some of the specimens. He, Tregonwell, had taken -care to comply with the labour conditions, and the -necessary rules and regulations, according to the -Tasmanian Mining Act, in such case made and -provided. He had satisfied the Warden of their -<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">bona fides</span></i>, and this gentleman had supported him -in all disputes with the “rush crowd” which, as usual -under such circumstances, had swarmed around the -sensational find, as soon as it was declared. Everything, -so far, had been plain sailing, but there was -sure to be litigation, and a testing of their title on -some of the technical points of law which are -invariably raised when the claim is rich enough to -pay the expenses of litigation. The great thing now -was to float the discovery into a company, exhibit -the specimens in the larger cities and in England, -and offer half the property in shares to the public. -This was agreed to. Tregonwell, with practised ease, -drew out the prospectus, explaining the wondrous -assays which had already been made, the increasing -body of the lode, its speculative value and unrivalled -richness as it descended to the hundred and fifty feet -level. The prospectors had invited tenders for a -fifty head stamp battery to be placed on the ground. -Abundance of running water was within easy reach; -timber also, of the finest quality, unlimited in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>quantity. Carriage, of course, in a rough, mountainous -country, must be an expensive item. The directors -were anxious not to minimise the cost in any way, -and all statements might be regarded as absolutely -truthful. The stone, if it kept up quality and output, -would pay for <em>any</em> rate of carriage and the most -up-to-date machinery. When a narrow-gauge railway -had been completed to the Port, where the Company -had secured wharf accommodation, the transit question -would be comparatively trifling.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount retired for lunch to the hotel in which -Tregonwell had engaged rooms—a quiet, old-fashioned -house of highly conservative character, -selected by his partner as specially adapted for privacy. -The family had inherited the business and the house -from the grandfather, who had made the business, and -built the house in the early days when the island was -still known as Van Diemen’s Land. Mr. Polglase, -whose portrait in oils still ornamented the dining-room, -in company with that of Admiral Rodney, in -whose flagship he had been a quartermaster, had -reached Tasmania in a whaler from New Zealand.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The <i>Clarkstone</i> having made a successful voyage, -and Mr. Polglase’s “lay” as first mate amounting to -a respectable sum, he decided to quit the sea, and -adopt the more or less lucrative occupation of hotel-keeping. -In those days when the convict population -outnumbered the free, in the proportion of fifty to -one, when the aboriginal tribes and far more savage -convict outlaws terrorised the settlers at a comparatively -short distance from Hobart, it was not altogether -a peaceful avocation. But Mark Polglase, a man -of exceptional strength and courage, who had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>enforced discipline and quelled mutiny among the -turbulent whaling crews hailing from Sydney Cove, -was not the man to be daunted by rioters free or -bond. The small, but orderly, well-managed inn -soon came to be favourably known both to the general -public and the authorities, as a house where comfortable -lodging was to be procured, and, moreover, where -a strict system of orderliness was enforced. When -the coaching system came to be developed, for -many years the best in Australasia, after admirable -roads had been formed by convict labour, the Lord -Rodney was the headquarters of the principal firm. -From the long range of stabling issued daily in the -after-time the well-bred, high-conditioned four-horse -teams, which did the journey between Hobart and -Launceston (a hundred and twenty miles) in a day. To -be sure the metalled road was perfect, the pace, the -coaches, the method of driving, the milestones even, -strictly after the old English pattern. So that the -occasional tourist, or military traveller, was fain to -confess that he had not seen such a turn-out or done -such stages since the days of the Cottons and -the Brackenburys.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The pace was equal to that of the fastest -“Defiance” or “Regulator” that ever kept good time -on an English turnpike road. Here the erstwhile -Cornish sailor settled himself for life. To that end -he wrote to a young woman to whom he had become -engaged before he left Truro on his last voyage, and -sent her the wherewithal to pay her passage and -other expenses. She was wise enough to make no -objection to a home on “the other side of the world,” -as Jean Ingelow puts it, and had no reason to regret -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>her decision. Here they reared a family of stalwart -sons, and blooming lasses—the latter with complexions -rivalling those of Devonshire. They married and -spread themselves over the wide wastes of the adjoining -colonies, with satisfactory results, but never forgetting -to return from time to time to their Tasmanian -home, where they could smell the apple blossoms in -the orchards and hear the bee humming on the green, -clover-scented pastures.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The parents in the fulness of time had passed -away, and lay in the churchyard, near the Wesleyan -meeting house, which the old man had regularly -attended and generously supported. But his eldest -son, lamed through an accident on a goldfield, reigned -in his stead. He too had a capable wife—it seemed -to run in the family. So the name and fame of the -Lord Rodney remained good as of old.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The prospectus and plan of operations being now -regarded as “shipshape” by Mr. Tregonwell, he -proceeded to sketch the locality. “It’s an awfully -rough country—nothing you’ve ever seen before is a -patch on it. We shall have to walk the last stage. -A goat could hardly find footing, over not <em>on</em>, mind -you, the worst part of the track. How Charlie -Herbert, who discovered the show, got along, I can’t -think. He was more than half starved, ‘did a -regular perish,’ as West Australians say—more than -once. However it was a feat to brag about when he -<em>did</em> come upon it, as you’ll see when we get there.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Herbert’s in charge now, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! he and his mate. You won’t find him far -off, unless I’m handy. It doesn’t do to leave such a -jeweller’s window to look after itself. There are two -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>wages men, Charlie takes one and Jack Clarke the -other, when they work. They get lumps and lumps -of ‘native silver’ worth £50 and £60 apiece.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Is it as rich as all that?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Rich! bless your heart, nothing’s been seen like -it since Golden Point at Ballarat, and that was -alluvial. This is likely to be as rich at 200 feet -as on top—and ten years afterwards—as it is -now.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We may call it a fortune, then, for us and the -other shareholders.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A fortune!” said Tregonwell, “it’s a dozen -fortunes. You can go home and buy half a county, -besides marrying a duke’s daughter, if your taste lies -in the direction of the aristocracy.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“H—m—ha! I’m not sure that one need go out -of Australia for the heroine of this little romance.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What! already captured!—that’s rapid work,” said -his partner, throwing himself into a mock heroic -attitude. “You’re not a laggard in love, whatever -you may be in practical matters. However, it’s the -common lot, even I—Frampton Tregonwell—have -not escaped unwounded.” Here he heaved a sigh, so -comically theatrical, that Blount, though in no -humour to jest on the subject, could not forbear -laughing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Whatever you may surmise,” he replied, “we have -something more serious to think about at the present -time. After I have handled this wonderful stone of -yours, and knocked a few specimens out of the ‘face’—you -see I have gained some practical knowledge -since we parted—then we can discuss the plan of the -future. In the meantime, I am with you to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>scaling of the ‘Frenchman’s Cap,’ if that forms any -part of the programme.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The journeying by land or sea to Hobart had been -comparatively plain sailing. From Hobart to the -west coast of Tasmania inaugurated a striking -change. The tiny steamer, <i>Seagull</i>, to which they -committed themselves for a thirty hours’ trip, was -dirty, and evil smelling. The shallow bar at Macquarie -Harbour forbade a larger boat. Crowded also, -her accommodation was necessarily restricted. The -twelve male passengers had one cabin allotted to -them. The women shared another, where berths like -those at a shearer’s hut were arranged at the sides. -On a coast, by no means well lighted, where no -shelter from the fierce gales is found nearer than the -South Pole, the passage, performed at night, is invariably -a rough one. All honour is due to the -hardy seamen commanding the small coast fleet. -They lose no time on the trip—overladen with -freight, more also to follow—full passenger lists for -a month in advance. That there are not more -accidents seems a miracle to the passenger, as they -thread their course in and out, among the numberless -islands and frequent reefs, with marvellous accuracy. -Tregonwell, who was half a sailor, by reason of his -manifold voyages, was loud in admiration.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The skipper <em>must</em> chance it, now and then,” he -remarked, “but he doesn’t show it, and certainly will -not confide in the ordinary passenger.” They bumped -on the bar at Macquarie Harbour, and also had a -narrow escape at “Hell’s Gates,” formed by the rocky -point which runs abruptly northward. They touched -bottom in the double whirlpool formed by the island -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>in the very jaws of the current, where the heavy seas -breaking over the tiny <i>Seagull</i> would not have taken -long to turn her into matchwood. Here the skipper -showed himself resourceful in such trifling matters. -Rough though the water, and dark the night, a man -would dash along a spar, laying out a sail to keep her -head straight, or bring her round, if broadside on and -steering way was lost. Then “full speed astern” -perhaps, when not being jammed in too tightly, she -glided back into smooth water, ready for another -attempt. In an hour, however, the tide rose until the -requisite depth of water, in the harbour bar, enabled -them after the grim, ghostly night, to glide up the -smooth surface of Macquarie Harbour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was early morning. They looked out on a sea -of mist, walled in by basaltic cliffs, wherein Mounts -Heemskirk and Zeehan kept watch over that dreary, -wreck-lined coast.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Declining breakfast on board, Messrs. Blount and -Tregonwell made for the chief “hotel” of the -Macquarie Harbour township, where on a clean white -beach, a friendly host, with comely daughters, made -them welcome to an excellent meal.</p> - -<p class='c008'>What a change from the days when a few fishermen -or prospectors constituted the entire population!</p> - -<p class='c008'>Strahan was now crowded with eager, anxious men, -all of whom had money to spend. Vessels were -arriving all day long—sailing craft, as well as -steamers, loaded with supplies of all kinds, for the -“silver field” of Zeehan, so named after one of the -vessels of Abel Tasman.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was a scene of hopeless confusion, as far as -the freighting was concerned. Mining machinery, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>groceries, drapery, blankets, axes, picks and shovels -were all dumped upon the sand, with scant ceremony -and no regularity.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Day after day they had been passing historic -landmarks, were actually on the scene of Marcus -Clarke’s great novel, <cite>His Natural Life</cite>. They -could afford to wait: “Hell’s Gates” lay behind -them.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In the distance rose “The Isle of the Dead,” to -which they promised themselves a visit some day, with -a ramble among the ruined prison-houses, where so -many tortured souls had languished.</p> - -<p class='c008'>One pictured the wretched officers in charge. How -dull and aimless their lives! Small wonder if they -grew savage, and vented the humours, bred of <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ennui</span></i> -and isolation, upon the wretched convicts.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The walls of the little stone church are standing -still. Tregonwell had camped there for a few days -once, with some fishermen, shooting ducks at night, -and fishing in the long, still, silent days. What a -lonely place for men to be stationed at! The interminable -forest walled it in on all sides, to the very -shore. They pulled for miles up the Gordon River, -a grand and picturesque stream, but the land on either -bank was absolutely barren of herbage. Nothing -grew for miles but the unfriendly jungle of undergrowth, -above which waved the mournful pines and -eucalypts of the dark impenetrable forest. The distracted -owners toiled and wrangled to separate their -goods from the ill-assorted mountain of heterogeneous -property.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After that, came the more important question of -carriage to the rich, but ill-ordered mining camp of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>Zeehan, where, of course, showy wooden edifices, -of calico, or hessian architecture were being erected. -The land transit was wholly dependent upon pack -horses and a few mules. Drays and waggons were -then unknown on that coast. The roads were bad -for pedestrians, utterly impassable for wheel traffic. -The busiest men were the Customs officers, stationed -to watch the goods shipped from other colonies, and -to collect the duties exacted thereon. Forwarding -agents also had a careworn look. In the midst of -the turmoil, a pretentious two-storied hotel was being -run up. Stores and warehouses rose like mushrooms -from the rain-soaked, humid earth, while town -allotments were sold, and resold, at South Sea Bubble -prices.</p> - -<p class='c008'>By dint of Mr. Blount’s persuasive powers, now fully -exerted, and Tregonwell’s abnormal energy, conjoined -with reckless payments, they saw their personal -luggage strapped on to a horse’s back, and confided -to a packer, who started with them, and contracted -to deliver it when they arrived on the following day.</p> - -<p class='c008'>They thus commenced the fifteen mile walk to -Trial Bay. This was the nearest port. It lacked, -however, any description of harbour, shelter, or roadway. -Small craft could deliver freight in fine -weather.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The pedestrians carried their blankets and a change -of underclothing. That was the recognised fashion -on the West Coast. If men didn’t start in the rain, -they were certain to be wet through before long. Mr. -Blount was pleased to admit that their day of commencement -was fine; more grateful still to see Trial -Bay the same night. Their condition was fairly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>good, the walking distinctly heavy. A few miles of -sandy beach, then came the track through the bush -proper.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Now commenced the stern realities of the expedition, -necessary before Mr. Blount could have personal -cognisance of his strangely acquired property. After -some experience of the forests which lay between -Bunjil and the “Lady Julia” claim, he had thought -himself qualified to judge of “rough country.” To -his astonishment, he found that all previous adventure -had given him no conception of the picture of dread -and awful desolation which the Tasmanian primeval -wilderness presented. The gigantic, towering trees, -(locally known as Huon River pines), the awful -thickets, the rank growth of a jungle more difficult to -pass through, than any he had known or realised, -contributed an appalling <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">carte du pays</span></i>. The peculiarity -of this last forest path was, that without a considerable -amount of labour being expended upon it, -it was impassable for horses, and not only difficult but -dangerous for men. The “horizontal scrub,” locally -so termed, was the admixture of immense altitudes -of forest timber, with every kind of shrub, vine, and -parasitic undergrowth. Stimulated by ceaseless rain -it hid even the surface of the ground from the pedestrian’s -view. For centuries, the unimpeded brush-wood -beneath the gigantic forest trees, which, shooting -upwards for hundreds of feet, combined by their -topmost interlacing of branches to exclude the sunlight, -had fallen rotted, and formed a superincumbent -mass, through which the traveller, passing over a -filled up gully, once falling through the upper platform, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>so to speak, might sink to unknown depths. -From these indeed, a solitary wayfarer might find it -difficult, if not impossible, to return.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What a track!” exclaimed Blount, toilsomely -wading through waist-high bracken, and coming to a -halt beside a fallen forest giant, eight feet in diameter, -and more than two hundred feet to the first branch. -“It ought to be a prize worth winning that tempts -men to penetrate such a howling wilderness. Hardly -that indeed, for there’s an awful silence: hardly a bird -or beast, if you notice, seems to make known its -presence in the ordinary way.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I heard this region described by an old hand as -exclusively occupied by shepherds, blacks, bushrangers, -tigers and devils,” replied Tregonwell. “The -blacks killed the shepherds, who in their turn harboured -the bushrangers, when they didn’t betray -them for the price set on their heads. The ‘tigers’ -and ‘devils’ (carnivorous marsupials) killed the sheep -and occasionally the sheep-dogs. They were the only -other inhabitants of this quasi-infernal region.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Facilis descensus</span></i>, then, is another quotation which -in this land of contradictions has come to grief. I -suppose we ought to try and cross this sapling which -bars our path?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I will go first,” said Tregonwell, “and report from -the other side,” and he prepared to climb the huge -and slippery trunk.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The outward appearance of Mr. Blount had undergone -a striking and material change, from the days of -Bunjil, and even of the “Lady Julia” alluvial claim. -A blue serge shirt, considerably torn, even tattered -from encounters with brambles, had replaced the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>Norfolk jacket and tweed suit. His gaiters were mud-covered -to the knees. His boots, extra-strong and -double-soled, were soaked and wrenched out of shape. -To add to his “reversal of form,” he carried on his -back a heavy “swag,” in which under a pair of coarse -blue blankets, all his worldly goods immediately indispensable -were packed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This is something like ‘colonial experience,’” said -he. With a slight twist of the shoulders, and a groan -expressive of uneasiness, he shifted the weight of the -burden. “I never carried a swag before, though now -I come to think of it, our knapsacks of the old days -on walking tours were much the same thing, though -more aristocratically named. This confounded thing -seems to get heavier every mile. There is a touch of -John Bunyan about it also.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The partners found Trial Bay in a worse muddle -than Strahan. Tents had been pitched everywhere; -men were working hard to get their own and other -peoples’ loading away.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The small inn was in the usual independent state -that obtains when there is too much custom. “They -could sleep there, if they had luck,” said the landlord -airily, but “he didn’t know as there was any beds -vacant.” Accommodation for the travelling public was -a secondary matter, in his estimation. The bar paying -enormous profits, was filled to overflowing the whole -day through—the night also. Here Tregonwell’s -colonial and other experience stood him in good stead—an -all-round “shout” or two, combined with an air -of good fellowship, and judicious <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">douceurs</span></i> to the -maid-servants, resulted finally in permission to sleep -in No. 5—which haven of rest, after a South -<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>African sort of meal, largely supported by “bully -beef,” the tired partners bestowed themselves. After -forcibly ejecting several volunteer bedfellows, they -slept more or less soundly until daylight.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Certainly no fitter habitat could have been chosen -for the desperate irreclaimable convicts, who alone -were exiled there. The dense, gloomy, barren -forests provided sustenance neither for man nor -beast.</p> - -<p class='c008'>No birds—no animals—with one exception, the -so-called “badger” (or wombat) which was snared, -and eaten by the convicts. The endless rain, priceless -in other lands, was valueless here, save to change the -mood of the outcast from depression to despair.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Gordon River pine is the most valuable of the -enormous growth of timber in proximity to its banks; -a beautiful, soft, red wood, not unlike the cedar of -Australia. It can be split into excellent palings and -will, fortunately, burn well, either in a wet or dry state. -The dense undergrowth, closely intertwined with -climbers, renders it impossible even for a man to get -through, unless with an axe to clear his way before -him. And the locally named “horizontal scrub” is a -study in forestry.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It is possible to progress for a quarter of a mile at -a stretch, without being nearer the ground than -eighteen or twenty feet. This curious shrub, growing -as it does at a considerable angle less than forty-five -degrees, with its intertwined branches made the -jungle all but impenetrable. A stage of fifteen miles -was no child’s play therefore, and meant a hard day’s -work for strong men, if unused to walking. Even -slow walking on the Corduroy, demoralised by the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>heavy traffic, was exasperating. Many logs were -missing altogether. This meant extra danger for the -pack-horses and mules. These horses were wonderfully -sure-footed and sagacious. Though carrying -two hundred pounds (dead weight too) they were -fully as clever at this novel species of wayfaring as -the mules. The pack tracks were cleared just wide -enough for the animals to travel in single file—and -with the exception of a few places they could not -get off them, as the forest timber, with dead wood -and undergrowth, was impossible for any horse to -get through, until a track was cut.</p> - -<p class='c008'>No deviations were possible; in a climate where -the rainfall was ninety inches per annum, one could -imagine into what a condition these tracks would get.</p> - -<p class='c008'>From time to time a pack horse would sink down -behind, irretrievably bogged. In such a case he -would wait patiently, knowing that struggling made -matters worse, until the packer and his mate came to -his assistance. They would lever him up with poles, -and whenever they shouted, he would make his effort.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sometimes they would unload, to give him a -chance to extricate himself. Then the packs were -put on again, and a general start made. Such men -would probably have ten or twelve horses and mules -walking loose—often with not even a bridle on.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The charge made was at the rate of threepence a -pound—roughly twenty-five pounds a ton—from -Strahan to the “field,” in those early days. The -only variation from the dense forest was that of the -“button grass” country. This was composed of -open flats covered with a tufted plant, similar to -the Xanthorrhea or grass tree—only wanting the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>elongated spear-like seed stalk. No animal eats the -button grass; it is worthless for fodder alive or -dead.</p> - -<p class='c008'>What sights on the road they saw! Men and boys, -with an odd woman or two, struggling through the -mud in the soaking, drizzling rain! Men wheeling -barrows with their tools, swags and belongings generally. -Men harnessed to small carts, tugging them -along. Four Germans drew a small wheeled truck, -which they had made themselves, and a staunch team -they were. So practised had some of the early -prospecting parties become that (Tregonwell said) -they plied a paying trade of packing on <em>their own -backs</em> to outside claims, where pack tracks for horses -had not yet been cut. These men would carry from -eighty to a hundred pounds, walking the journey of -thirty miles in two days. The charge was a shilling -a pound. They would walk back “empty” in one -day. If it seemed high pay, it was hard work. -Climbing hills of fifteen hundred feet and going down -the other side with that crushing weight of bacon or -flour taxed a man’s strength, condition and pluck. -Tregonwell said you could always pick out the -packers in a crowd after they had been a year or two -at it. They invariably “stood over” at the knees, -like old cab horses, from the strain of steadying themselves -down hill with heavy weights up.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Many a time, when the field first opened” (said -Tregonwell), “have I walked beside one of these men -the day through, carrying only my blankets and a -change, not weighing more than fifteen pounds; my -packer companion would carry his fifty to eighty -pounds up the long hills with comparative ease, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>passing me, if I didn’t look out, pulling up, too, quite -fresh at night, while I could scarcely stagger into -camp; yet I could outdo, easily, any other amateur -on the field.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Some original inventions Blount noted outside of -his gradually extending colonial experience. Each -camp had a “fly” pitched permanently over the fire-place -to keep the endless rain from putting it out. -“Kindling” wood was kept under this fly, so that it -was always in readiness. After the fire was well -started, green or wet wood could be put on and would -burn well.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Tregonwell, having once started, said that he soon -got into form, improving in pace and condition daily. -He expatiated on the keen enjoyment of the hot -meal at the end of the day’s journey, rude as might -be the appliances and primitive the cookery. The -meal was chiefly composed of tinned meat, stewed or -curried, with bacon added for flavour; and freshly-made -damper, or “Johnny cakes,” to follow. The change -of garments was to dry pyjamas, with a blanket -wrapped round the wearer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was, he stated, a luxurious, half-tired, languorous -but fully-satisfied feeling, the sensation of mind and -body essential to the fullest enjoyment of tobacco. -Then the yarns of the old prospectors, grizzled, -sinewy, iron-nerved veterans! Where had they not -been? California in ’49, Ballarat in ’51, pioneers of -Lambing Flat, at the big rush, Omeo, Bendigo, New -Zealand, West Coast, 25,000 men on the field in a -week; those were the times to see life! Queensland, -Charters Towers, Gympie, New Guinea, the Gulf, ah! -“This Zeehan racket’s a bit of a spirt; but talk of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>mining! It’s dead now, dead, sir, and buried. Those -were the days!” The dauntless pioneer fills another -pipe and falls into a reverie of cheap-won gold, reckless -revelry, wherein perils by land or sea, danger, ay, and -death, would seem to have been inextricably mingled.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A strange race, the prospectors, <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sui generis</span></i>. Hardly -a spot on the globe was there which these men had -not searched for the precious metals. Distance, -climate, are nothing, less than nothing, in their calculations, -once let the fact be established of a payable -silver or gold “field.” Landing in Australia in the -early fifties, they had worked on every field before -mentioned, and are still ready to join the rush for any -country under heaven should gold happen to “break -out.” Klondyke, Argentina, South Africa, all equally -eligible once the ancient lure is held out. They often -put together a few thousand pounds in the early days -of a rich goldfield, their wide experience and boundless -energy making some measure of success certain. -They may not drink, but all live luxuriously, even -extravagantly, while the money lasts, possibly for a -few years, then go back to their roving, laborious life. -They generally make enough on each field to carry -them to the ends of the earth, if necessary, and it is -mostly so from their point of view. When funds are -low, they can, and do, live cheaply; will work hard -and do long journeys on the scantiest fare. Natural -bushmen, often Australian-born; from this type of -man, above all others, a regiment might be formed of -“Guides” or “Scouts,” ready to fight stubbornly in -any war of the future; would hunt, harry, and run to -earth De Wet, or other slippery Boer, if given the -contract and a “free hand.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>Harking back to his experiences—“That wild -West Coast,” continued Tregonwell, “was a place -to remember—the wooded ranges piled one upon -another, as far as eye could reach, in shape, height, -timber, or colouring hardly differing in any essential -particular; yet the noted prospectors never lost -themselves. Stopping for weeks at a likely ‘show,’ -as long as the bacon and flour held out, they avoided -all settlements or mining centres on the way. The -first prospector, George Bell, carried a lump of galena -of forty pounds’ weight in his swag right through -from Zeehan to Mount Bischoff. For a distance of -fifty miles he went straight between the two points -without a road or track being cut for him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>When the partners arrived at Zeehan, it certainly -appeared to Mr. Blount a place of peculiar and -unusual characteristics. The excitement was naturally -great; stores, hotels, dwellings, lodging-houses -going up in all directions. Timber was plentiful to -excess, luckily such as split into slabs and palings -easily.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Tents were beginning to be voted hardly equal to -so vigorous a climate. No one, however, stayed under -cover for that reason. They were wet all day and -every day, but the rule was to change into dry -things at night. No harm, strange to say, came to -anybody. There was less sickness, certainly less -typhoid, on that field than any since reported.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Less, certainly, than at Broken Hill and the West -Australian Goldfields. The hotels, quickly run up, -were rough both in appearance and management. -About fifty men slept in the billiard room for the first -few nights. Then, as their importance as “capitalists” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>began to be recognised, beds were allotted. Over -these they had to mount guard for an hour or more -before bedtime, as a rule, or else to “chuck out” the -intruder. Here the personal equation came in. The -landlord had no time to support the legal rights of -his guests. He merely went so far as to allot each -man a bed. He had to keep it and pay for it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The term “capitalist” on a mining field is understood -to apply to people with money of their own, or -substantial backers who are prepared to pay down -the deposit on mines, sufficiently developed or rich -enough to “float”; worth securing the “option” of -purchase for a month, so as to give time to raise the -necessary funds.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The Tregonwell party had secured the “fancy show” -of the field (<i>i.e.</i>, the next richest in reputation to the -Comstock) by promptness in agreeing to all the owner’s -conditions, as he named them, thus giving him no -chance to change his mind. Other offers had been -made from Hobart and elsewhere. However, they -paid a liberal deposit, and, after thoroughly sampling -and examining the ore body, agreed to float the mine -in a fortnight. Very short terms! Also to place -£10,000 to its credit as a working capital, and to give -the owner £5,000 cash as well as a certain number -of shares.</p> - -<p class='c008'>They knew the market, however, and their business. -Tregonwell <em>walked</em> to Strahan in a day and a half, -being then in high condition, and got off to Hobart -by steamer that night. Had the transfers signed and -registered in the Mines Department in his name, subject -to the conditions being fulfilled. Wired to their -Melbourne brokers, and in twenty-four hours the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>shares were applied for three times over, and the -stock quoted at a premium. It seems easy, but such -is not always the case. The boom must be on. The -buyers must be well known to the public as having -the necessary experience, and being reliable on a -cash basis.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>A shout from a tall, well-dressed man—comparatively, -we may say—greets them at the long-desired -camp. He comes forward and shakes hands with -Tregonwell, more heartily than even the occasion -demands, it would seem.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“By Jove! old fellow. I <em>am</em> so glad to see you. -Would have sent a line to Hobart to hurry you up, if -I could have found a man to take it. But most of -the fellows have gone to Marble Creek, so we’re a -small community. But we’re forgetting our manners. -Introduce me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mr. Valentine Blount, permit me to present Mr. -Charles Herbert, one of our partners. You mustn’t -swear at the place, the roads, the climate, the people, -or anything belonging to Tasmania, as it’s his native -land, to which he is deeply attached. In all other -respects he may be treated as an Englishman.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He certainly looks like one,” said Blount, glancing -over the fine figure and regular features of the tall, -handsome Tasmanian. “If the other gentleman who -makes up the syndicate is a match for him, we should -be an efficient quartette.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Clarke is a light-weight,” said Tregonwell, “but as -wiry as a dingo, besides being the eminent mining -expert of the party (of course, when I’m away); but -he’s perhaps more up to date, as when he went to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>California he learned the latest wrinkles in silver-mining. -He’s rather an invalid at present, having -jarred his right hand with a pick, and sprained his left -ankle in taking a walk through this ‘merry greenwood,’ -as old writers called the forest.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I thought I had seen some rough country in New -South Wales,” said Blount, “but this tops anything -I have ever seen or indeed heard of, except an African -jungle.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Climate not quite so bad, no fever yet,” replied -Herbert, “but can’t say much for the Queen’s Highway. -However, the silver’s all right, and where that’s -the case, anything else follows in good time. But, come -inside—no horses to want feeding, luckily, as the oats -which came in advance, cost a guinea a bucket.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>So saying, he led the way to a small but not uncomfortable -hut, at one side of which a fire of logs -was blazing in a huge stone chimney. The walls of -this rude dwelling were composed of the trunk of the -black fern tree, placed vertically in the ground, the -interstices being filled up with a compost of mud and -twigs, which formed a wind and waterproof wall, -while it lasted. On one of the rude couches lay a -man, who excused himself from rising on the score of -a sprained ankle.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It’s so confoundedly painful,” he said, “that even -standing gives me fits. Of all the infernal, brutal, -God-forsaken holes, that ever a man’s evil genius -lured him into, this is the worst and most villanous. -In California, the Tasmanians and Cornstalks were -looked on as criminals and occasionally lynched as -such, but you <em>could</em> walk out in daylight and were -not made a pack-horse of. If I were this gentleman, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>whom I see Tregonwell has enticed here under false -pretences, I should hire a Chinaman to carry me back -to Strahan, and bring an action against him as soon -as I reached Hobart.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’m afraid he’s delirious, Mr. Blount,” said Herbert, -soothingly, “and as he’s lost a leg and an arm, so -to speak, we can’t hammer him at present, but he’s -not a bad chap, when he’s clothed and in his right -mind. In the meantime, as a fellow-countryman, I -apologise for him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t believe a word these monomaniacs tell you, -Mr. Blount,” said the sufferer, trying to raise himself -on one arm, and subsiding with a groan. “Herbert’s -an absurd optimist, and Tregonwell—well, we know -what Cousin Jacks are. However, after supper, I -daresay I shall feel better. Do you happen to have a -late paper about you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Several,” said Blount, “which I hadn’t time -to read before we left, including a <cite>Weekly -Times</cite>.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“In that case,” said the pessimist, “I retract much -of what I have said. I have read everything they have -here, and thought I was stranded in the wilderness -without food, raiment, or <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">pabulum mentis</span></i>. Now I -descry a gleam of hope.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I brought a packet of wax candles,” observed -Blount. “Thought they might be useful.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Useful!” cried the invalid, “you have saved my -life, they are <em>invaluable</em>. Fancy having to read by a -slush lamp! Mr. Blount, we are sworn brothers from -this hour.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“For Heaven’s sake let us have supper,” interposed -Tregonwell. “Is the whisky jar empty? I feel as if a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>nip would not be out of place, where two tired, hungry, -muddy travellers are concerned.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not quite so bad as that,” replied Herbert, who -had been spreading tin plates and pannikins over the -rude table on trestles, with corned beef in a dish of -the same material, and baker’s bread for a wonder. -A modicum of whisky from the jar referred to was -administered to each one of the company, prior to -the announcement of supper.</p> - -<p class='c008'>When the primitive meal had been discussed with -relish, Mr. Jack Clarke considered himself sufficiently -restored to sit up against the wall of the hut, and -begin at Mr. Blount’s newspapers with the aid of one -of that gentleman’s wax candles in a bottle, by way -of candlestick. The others preferred to sit round the -fire on three-legged stools provided for such purpose, -and smoke, carrying on cheerful conversation the -while.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The discovery of the Comstock as a deeply interesting -subject, commended itself to Mr. Blount; so -Tregonwell persuaded Herbert, who was the pioneer, -to sketch the genesis of this famous property, destined -to exercise so important an influence on their future -lives.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Come, Charlie,” said he, “you’re the real prospector, -Clarke wouldn’t have gone into it but for -you, and I shouldn’t have taken a share but for -Blount, who knew nothing about mines, having just -come from England. I wanted to chuck it, but -Blount, who is obstinate (not a bad virtue, in its way), -determined, for that very reason, to stick to it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So he paid his share of the expenses, went away, -met all kinds of adventures and all sorts and conditions -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>of men—with, of course, a girl or two, not -wholly unattractive, and forgot all about it. I kept -an eye on it, so did Charlie; complied with the labour -condition, kept up the pegs, according to the Act, -did a little work now and then. And now, Charlie! -it’s your turn.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Herbert put down his pipe carefully and began -the wondrous tale. “You know I was always fond of -mooning about—wallaby-shooting, fishing, and collecting -birds and plants in mountain country. We -had a sheep station on the edge of this horizontal -scrub country in old times; and I used, when I had -leave, to get away and spend a week or two of my -Christmas holiday there. One of the shepherds was -a great pal of mine. Like many of the prisoners of -the Crown in old days, he had been transported -wrongfully, or for very slight offences (as much to get -rid of Britain’s surplus population as for any other -reason it really would seem). He was fairly educated, -and was a very decent, well-behaved old chap, with a -taste for geology and minerals.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“When his sheep were camped in the middle of -the day I would find out his flock, and we would boil -the billy and have lunch, with ever so much talk.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Look here, Master Charles!’ he said one day, as -he took out a dull, grey-looking stone from his ‘dilly -bag,’ ‘do ye know what that is?’ I did not, and like -most youngsters of my age, looked upon it as rubbish, -and showed that I would rather have had a shot at -one of the ‘tigers’ or ‘devils’ that came every now -and then and killed the sheep at the stations than all -the silver ore in the country.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘It’s silver ore,’ said he in a solemn voice; ‘and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>there’s enough where that came from to buy all your -father’s stations ten times over, if I could only find -my way back to the place where I found it.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘And why can’t you?’ said I; ‘you know all the -country round here.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The old man looked very sad, and pointed out -towards the Frenchman’s Cap, which was just being -covered with mist, while a heavy shower began to -fall, and a thunderstorm roared and echoed among -the rocks and caves of the ‘Tiers,’ at the foot of which -we managed to get shelter.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘It was a strange day and a strange sight I saw -when I picked up this slug,’ he said. ‘I was never -nearer losing my life!—but I’ll tell you all about it -another day. You’d better get back to the station -now, or you’ll get wet through, and maybe catch -cold, and then the master won’t let you come here -again.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So I was obliged to leave the telling of the story -to another day. I forgot all about the silver ore, and, -chiefly remembering the strange part of the story, -was determined to hear about it from the old man -another day.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It was the late spring-time when we had this talk, -old Chesterton and I; but a month or so afterwards -I got a holiday, and as the weather was warm and -fine I cleared out to his out station, and never rested -till I bailed up the old man for another yarn. It is -sometimes hot in the island, though you mightn’t -think so.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t believe him,” growled Mr. Clarke; “it’s a -popular error. The seasons have changed. Listen to -that!” The rain was certainly falling with a sustained -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>volume, which discredited any references to warmth -and sunshine.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“However,” continued Herbert, paying not the -slightest attention, “remember, it was at the end of -the Christmas holidays, and the rocks felt red hot; -there had been bush fires, but the young feed, such as -it was, was lovely and green. The air was clear, the -sky for once hadn’t a cloud on it, and the old man -was in a wonderful good humour for a shepherd.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Well, Master Charles,’ he said, ‘if ye must have it, -ye must. I don’t know that it can do you any harm, -though it kept me awake for weeks afterwards, and -every time the dog barked I felt my heart beat like, -and would wake me up all of a tremble. Well, to -come to the story, I was sitting on a log half asleep -with the sheep camped quiet and comfortable under a -big pine, when I heard my old dog growl. He never -did that for nothing, so I looked up, and the blood -nearly froze in my veins at what I saw. It wasn’t -much to scare the seven senses out of me, but I knew -how I stood.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘A man and a woman were coming down a gully -from the direction of the mountain; they were near -enough to see me, and it was no use making a bolt of -it. I should only lose my life. Anyhow, I couldn’t -leave the flock. I should get flogged for that. No -excuse was taken for anything of that sort in those -days. Following the man was a young gin with a lot -of things on her back as if they had been shifting -camp. She was much like any other black girl of -her age, sixteen or thereabouts, maybe less; they -grow up fast and get old fast, too, specially when they -are worked hard, beaten, and brutally treated, as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>most of them are, and this one certainly was. Poor -Mary! The man had no boots, and his trousers were -ragged, he was mostly dressed in kangaroo skins, and -had a fur cap on.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘He had a long beard down to his chest; his black -hair fell in a mat over his shoulders. He carried a -double-barrelled gun, and had a belt with a pouch -in it round his waist. He looked like the pictures of -Robinson Crusoe, but I didn’t feel inclined to laugh -when he came close up and stared me in the face. I -had seen, ay, lived with criminals of all sorts since I -first came to Tasmania, but such a savage, blood-thirsty-looking -brute as the man before me, I had -never come across before. He saw that I was afraid; -well I might be—if he had shot me there and then, -it was only what he had done to others. With a -fiendish grin that made him, if possible, more beast-like -in appearance, he said: “Did ye ever see Mick -Brady afore? No! Well, ye see him now. Maybe -ye won’t live long enough to forget him!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘“I’ve heard of you,” I said, “of course.” I tried -to look cool, but my teeth chattered, for all the day -was so hot. “I’m a Government man, like yourself. -I’ve never done you any harm that I know of.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘“No harm!” he shouted, “no harm! Aren’t ye -one of old Herbert’s shepherds—a lot of mean crawlers -that work for a bloody tyrant, and inform on poor -starving brutes like me that’s been driven to take to -the bush by cruelty and injustice of every kind. I -came here to shoot you, and shoot you I will, and -your dog too; the dingos and the tigers may work -their will on the flock afterwards. He’ll feel that a -d—d sight more than the loss of a shepherd. I know -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>him, the hard-hearted old slave-driver!” God forgive -him for miscalling a good man and a kind master.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘“Don’t shoot the dog,” I said, “he’s the best I -ever had—a prisoner’s life’s not much in this country, -but a dog like him you don’t see every day.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘“Kneel down,” he said, “and don’t waste time; -ye can say a short prayer to God Almighty, or the -devil, whichever ye favour most. Old Nick’s given -<em>me</em> a lift, many a time.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘He stood there, with the death-light in his red-rimmed, -wolfish eyes, and no more mercy in them -than a tiger’s, lapping the blood of a Hindoo letter-carrier. -When I was a soldier I’d seen the poor -things brought in from the jungle, with their throats -torn out, and mangled beyond knowing. Surely man -was never in a worse case or nearer death. Strangely, -I felt none of the fear which I did when I saw him -first. I had no hope, but I prayed earnestly to God, -believing that a very few moments would suffice to -place me beyond mortal terrors.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘The girl meanwhile had crept closer to us and -stood with her large eyes wide open, half in surprise, -half in terror—as she leaned her laden back against -one of the rock pillars which stood around. She -murmured a few words in her own language—I knew -it slightly—against bloodshed, and for mercy. But -he turned on her with a savage oath, and made as -though he would add her murder to the long list of -his crimes.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER VII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“‘<span class='sc'>At</span> that moment, the last I ever expected to see -on earth, the black girl uttered a sudden cry. The -report of a gun was heard, as a bullet passed between -me and Brady, flattening itself against the rock where -I had been leaning just before. At the same time -four men dashed across the gully and made for him. -He looked at me with devilish malignity for a -moment, but I suppose, wanting the charge in his gun -for his own defence, turned and fled with extraordinary -speed towards the forest, the police—for such they -were—with a soldier and the informer, firing at him -as he went. Their guns were the old-fashioned tower -muskets; they were bad shots at best—so the girl -and he disappeared in the thick wood, unhurt as far -as I could see. I fell on my face, I know, and thanked -God before I rose—the God of our fathers, who had -answered my prayer and delivered me out of the -hand of the “bloody and deceitful man,” in the words -of the Psalmist. I took my sheep home early, and -put them in the paling yard—dog proof it was—and -needed to be, in that part of the country. Just as it -was getting dark, the men came back, regularly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>knocked up, with their clothes torn to rags and half -off their backs. They hadn’t caught Brady. I -didn’t expect they would—he was in hard condition, -and could run like a kangaroo. He got clean out of -sight of them in a mile or two after they left us. -What astonished me was, that they brought back the -black girl, with a bullet through her shoulder, poor -thing!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘“I suppose that was a mistake,” said I, “you -didn’t fire at the poor thing, surely?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘“<em>We</em> didn’t,” said the soldier, “but who d’ye -think did?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘“You don’t say?” said I.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘“But I do. It was that infernal villain and coward, -Brady himself, that shot her. She couldn’t keep up -with him, and for fear she’d fall into our hands, and -give away his ‘plants,’ he fired at her, and nearly -stopped her tongue for ever. But he’s overdid it this -time—she’s red hot agen ’im now, and swears she’ll -go with any party to help track him up.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘“Serve the brute right. Let’s have a look at the -poor thing’s shoulder, I wonder if the bullet’s still -in it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘We washed off the blood, and between us, managed -to get it out. It was wonderful how many people in -those days knew something about gunshot wounds. -After we’d shown Mary the bullet, we bound it up, -and the poor gin thanked us, and lay down on her -furs by the fire, quite comfortable. We kept watch -and watch, you may be sure, for fear Brady might -come in the night, and shoot one of us, but nothing -happened, and after breakfast the party went back to -Hobart, taking the girl with them.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>“‘I was in fear for weeks afterwards that he might -come and pay me out. But he didn’t do that either. -He was taken not long after, and when he was, it was -through that same girl, Mary, whom he tried to shoot. -He met his fate through his own base bloodthirsty -act, and if any one brought it on his own head, and -deserved it thoroughly, Mick Brady was that man.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Now this happened a many years ago, before you -were born, or thought of, as the saying is. Often and -often, when I could leave the flock safe, did I try to -find out the place where this stone came from, but I -never could drop on it again. When I found it first -and saw that there was a regular lode, and plenty -more “slugs” as rich as this, which is nearly pure -silver, mind you, I was in such a hurry to get back to -the sheep, that I’d only time to mark two or three -trees, and drive in a stake, before I started for home.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I was sure I could find it again. But I never did. -It was hot weather, and a bush fire started that day, -and burned for weeks, sweeping all that side of the -country.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘You’ll remember reading of Black Thursday, -Master Charles? it burned all Port Phillip, Victoria -as they call it now, from Melbourne town to the -Ottawa range. So I expect my marks were burnt -out. For I never could find the way to it again: -what with the fallen timber that covered over the -ground, and the ashes that was heaped up a foot deep -in some places, the whole face of the country was -altered past knowing. You might have heard tell -that ashes fell on board some of the coasting craft -miles from the shore, and a black cloud hung over -the coastline, for days afterwards. But, take my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>word for it, Master Charles, the word of a dying -man, for I’m not long for this world, that whoever -finds the gully where this stone came from, and -takes up a prospecting claim, will own the richest -silver mine, south of the line. Your father’s always -been a good master to his prisoner servants, that -Mick Brady told a lie when he said he wasn’t, and -there’s none of ’em that wouldn’t do him a good turn, -if they could; and I have known you and loved you -ever since you was the height of a walking stick. -So here’s the silver “slug,” and the wash-leather bag -of specimens, there’s gold and copper besides, and I -hope there’ll be luck with them.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The poor old chap didn’t live long after that. He -was comfortable enough for the last year or two of -his life, for my father pensioned his old servants, and -his old horses too, for that matter. He couldn’t bear -to think that after they’d worked well all their lives, -they should be allowed to drag out a wretched existence, -starved, or perhaps ill-treated, till death came -to their relief. So the silver ‘slug’ was bequeathed -to me, this is a bit of it on my watch-chain, with the -malachite colouring showing out. It always comes -with time, they say. Anyhow it brought me luck in -the end, though it was a precious long time coming -about.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“As you’ve brought us so far,” said Jack Clarke, -“and Mr. Blount seems interested (he hasn’t been -asleep more than twice), I think it would be a fair -thing to give us the last chapter. For, I suppose you -<em>did</em> find the old man’s marked tree, and if so, how? -as lawyers say.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“As you have deduced, with your usual astuteness, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>that I must have found it, or we shouldn’t be here, I -suppose, I may lay aside my modesty, and enlighten -the company. The ‘Comstock’ has a well-marked -track now, if there’s nothing else good about it. Old -Parkins gave me the bearings of the ‘Lost Gully,’ as -he always called it. Once a year, I always took a -loaf round the locality after Christmas, poking about -doing a little fishing, when there was any: shooting -wallaby or anything worth while that I came across. -Got an old man kangaroo bailed up at the head of a -gully, one day after a big fight with my dogs. I had -fired away my cartridges, and was looking round -for a stick to hit him on the head with, when I backed -on to a stump of an upright sapling, as I thought, out -of a ‘whip stick scrub,’ which had grown up since the -fire.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It did not give way, as I expected, and putting -back my hand to feel it, I found it was a <em>stake</em>! It -was charred all round, but still sound, and hard to -the core. Lucky for me, it was stringy bark timber. -I pulled it up, and tried it on the old man’s skull, -which it cracked like an egg shell. It had been -pointed with a tomahawk, and driven well into the -ground. That clinched the matter. It <em>was the old -man’s peg</em>! The next thing was to clear the -ground round about of timber and ashes, with all -the accumulation of years. This I did next day, carefully, -and it was not long before I discovered a -couple of tomahawk marks on a big ‘mess-mate’ not -far off. The bark had partly grown over it. It was -in the form of a cross. Underneath the new bark -the marking was perfect, as I had often seen surveyors’ -marks, years and years after they had been done. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>Then I came upon the cap of the lode, broke off some -rock, fifty per cent. ore, no mistake. Blazed my track -and cleared for Hobart. Took up a prospector’s -claim next morning at 10 a.m. Registered in due -form. Met Clarke and accidentally Messrs. Blount -and Tregonwell, new—er—that is to say, newly arrived -from England, and the great silver property, known -to the world as the ‘Tasmanian Comstock, Limited,’ -and so on was duly launched.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well done, Charlie, my boy! No idea you’d so -much poetry in your composition! You were not -regarded as imaginative at the old ‘Hutchins Institute,’ -where we both had ‘small Latin and less -Greek’ hammered into us. But you were a sticker, I -will say that for you. Now that I’m <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">hors de combat</span></i>, -I seem to see that quality in a new light. Main -strength and stupidity we used to call it in your -case.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve no doubt; you were horribly ill-mannered, -even without a sprained ankle,” retorted Herbert, -“but we make allowances for your condition as an -invalid. By the time we get that corduroy track -finished, and traffic other than ‘man-power’ restored, -we shall look for improvement.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The next day, being bright with sunshine, dispersed -some of the gloom which wet, cold and unwonted -fatigue had imposed upon the partners. The shafts -of sunlight, flashing through the endless glades and -thickets of the primeval forest, formed a thousand -glittering coruscations of all imaginable forms and -figures.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The pools of water reflected the glimpses of cloudless -sky, framed in sombre but still burnished shades -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>of green. Birds called and twittered in approval of -the change, while strings of water-fowl, winging their -way to the great mountain lakes, told of a happier -clime, and the undisturbed enjoyment in which the -tribes of the air might revel.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The obvious primary duty after breakfast was to -get to the mine itself. The distance was not great, -but the task was less easy than might be supposed. -The track through the jungle of scrub and forest was -necessarily narrow, as the labour necessary for clearing -it was great and, therefore, expensive. The -tremendous rainfall had turned the adjoining country -into a quagmire, the only means of crossing which -was by a corduroy road.</p> - -<p class='c008'>On this inconvenient makeshift the friends stumbled -along until they came to a collection of huts and tents, -the usual outcrop of a mining township, which springs -up, mushroom-like, at the faintest indication of proved, -payable gold, silver or copper in any part of Australia. -Of course there was a “store,” so called, from which -proudly flaunted a large calico flag, with “Comstock -Emporium” rudely painted thereon, while a few picks -and shovels, iron pots and frying-pans, with a half-emptied -case of American axes outside the canvas -door, denoted the presence of the primary weapons -used in the war with nature.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A score or more of shafts, above which were the -rude windlasses with rope and bucket of the period, -disclosed the beginning of mining enterprise, advertising -the hope and expectation of a subterranean -treasure-house—the hope invariable, the expectation, -alas! so often doomed to barren disappointment and -eventual despair.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>However, when the prospectors’ claim was reached, -within the area of which no intrusion was allowed, the -dull grey rock from which Mr. Blount was urged to -break down a few fragments disclosed a perfect -Aladdin’s cave of the precious metal. His enthusiasm, -slow to arouse, became keen, stimulated by this -“potentiality of boundless wealth.” His more -emotional partner was loudly enthusiastic upon the -immense value of the discovery.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“See that stone,” he said, knocking off a corner of -the “face,” “it’s all fifty per cent. stuff—when it’s not -seventy-five. Look at the native silver and the -malachite! I’ve been on the ‘Comstock,’ and the -‘Indian Chief’ in Denver, and can make affidavit -that in their best days they never turned out better -stone than that—most of it was less than half the -percentage, indeed. The ore bodies were larger, you -say? No such thing. This lode widens out; the -deeper you go, the more there is of it. Easy worked, -too. Freight expensive? Wait till the corduroy’s -finished to the main road; we’ll have stores and -hotels, the electric light, hot and cold water laid on; -a couple of clubs, with the last month’s magazines, and -<cite>The Times</cite> itself on the smoking-room table. You -don’t know how everything comes to ‘a big field,’ -gold, silver or copper, as soon as the precious metal is -proved—proved, mind you—to have a settled abode -there. Fortune? There’s a fortune apiece for every -proprietor here to-day—even for Clarke, who’s now in -his bunk reading a yellow-back novel.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>All this fairy-appearing relation turned out to be a -sober and accurate statement of facts, as far as could -be gathered from the survey made by the partners in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>the enterprise. The stone, which was of surpassing -richness, was principally found in a well-defined lode, -forty feet wide, increasing in volume as the shafts -pierced more deeply into the bowels of the earth.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A mining expert of eminence turned up, who had, -after many perils and disasters, found his way to -Comstock. On being permitted a “private view,” -he confirmed Mr. Tregonwell’s wildest flights of fancy.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nothing in the Southern Hemisphere as rich, or -half as rich, has ever been discovered,” he said. He -doubted, as did Tregonwell, whether in all the mines -from Peru to Denver such a deposit had ever been -unearthed. He proved by reference to scientific geological -treatises that it was so rare as to have been -doubted as a possibility that such a find <em>could</em> occur, -but if so, the most apocryphal yield of Peru and Chile -would have paled before the size and richness of this -Silverado of the Wilderness, so long hidden from the -gaze of man.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then an adjournment was made to the “Emporium,” -as it was proudly styled, the meagreness of -its materials and adornments being in the inverse -proportion to its imposing designation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But the glory of the future, the assured development -of the mine, and, as a natural sequence, of the -“field,” was shed around with irradiating effect and -brilliancy of colouring. Upon this the proprietor -proceeded to dilate, after an invitation to a calico -shielded sanctum, sacred to the account books and -documents of the establishment. In the centre of the -compartment stood a table composed of the top of a -packing case, placed upon stakes driven into the -earthen floor. At one side was a stretcher with his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>blankets and bedclothes, surmounted by a gaily -coloured rug, upon which the visitors were invited to -sit, while the host after placing a bottle of whisky of -a fashionable brand upon the festive board, cordially -requested his guests to join him in drinking the health -of the energetic and spirited proprietors of the Great -Comstock Silver Mine.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not that it looks much now, gentlemen; no more -does this stringy bark and calico shanty of mine. -But that says nothing. I was at Ballarat in the -‘fifties,’ and Jack Garth, the baker, had just such a -gunya as this. I brought up a load of flour for him, -and was paid a hundred and fifty pound a ton for the -carriage. The roads were bad certainly—puts me in -mind of this hole, in that way; but you <em>could</em> travel, -somehow. And look at Ballarat now, with trams, and -town halls, and artificial lakes, and public gardens and -statues—just like the old country. And Jack Garth, -well, he’s worth a couple of hundred thousand pounds, -if he’s worth a penny; owns farms and prize stock, -and hotels, and everything a man can want in this -world. How came that, gentlemen? Because he -was a hardworking straightgoing chap? No! that -wouldn’t have done it, though he’d always have made -a good living—any man of the right sort can do <em>that</em> -in Australia. But <em>the gold was there</em>! It was there -then, and it’s there now. It floated the whole place -up to fortune and fame, the diggers, the storekeepers, -the publicans, the commissioners, the carriers, the very -police made money: some of ’em saved it too. Didn’t -one of ’em own a whole terrace of houses afterwards? -Well, the gold was there, and <em>the silver’s here</em>; that’s -all that’s wanted for miners to know, and they’ll follow -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>it up, if it was to the South Pole; and mark my words, -gentlemen, this place’ll go ahead, and grow and -flourish, and make fortunes for us men standing here, -and for the er—er—babe unborn.” Concluding his -peroration with this effective forecast, which showed -that his connection, as member, with the Bungareeshire -council had not been without effect on his elocution, -Mr. Morgan replenished his glass, and invited -his distinguished guests to do likewise.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Hobart, at length. Mr. Blount was unaffectedly -pleased, even joyous, when for the second time he -sighted the towering summit and forest-clothed sides -of Mount Wellington, overlooking the picturesque -city, the noble stretches of the Derwent, and the -Southern main. Impatient of delay, and feverishly -anxious to receive the letters which he had not cared -to trust to the irregular postal service of Silverado; -almost certain, as he deemed, of answers to his letters -from Mrs. Bruce and Imogen, even if the master of the -house had not relented, he had stayed a day to ensure -the company of the mining expert, the road being -lonely, the weather bad, and the conversation of a -cultured companion valuable under the circumstances. -Mr. Blount ran rapidly through the pile of -letters and papers which he found awaiting him; -indeed, made a second examination of these former -missives.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A feeling of intense disappointment overcame him -when no letters with the postmark of the village on -the Upper Sturt turned up, nor did he discover the -delicate, yet free and legible handwriting, which -conveyed such solace to his soul at Bunjil.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>Looking over the correspondence, mechanically, -however, he came across the postmark of that comparatively -obscure townlet, and recalling the bold, -characteristic hand of Sheila Maguire, tore it open. -It ran as follows:—</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Mr. Blount</span>,—You told me when you -went away that cold morning, that if anything -happened here that I thought you ought to know, I -was to write and tell you. We all thought there -would be a heavy fall of rain, and most likely a big -storm that night. I expect you just missed it, but -there must have been a waterspout or something, for -the Little River, and all the creeks at the head of the -water, came down a banker. It knocked the sluicing -company’s works about, above a bit, and flooded the -miners’ huts—but the worst thing it did was to drown -poor Johnny Doyle the mailman. Yes! poor chap, -it wasn’t known for days afterwards, when the people -at Marondah wondered why they didn’t get their mail. -He was never known to be late before. However, -drowned he was, quite simple too. He could swim -first-rate, but the pack-horse was caught in a snag, and -he must have jumped in, to loose the bags, and got -kicked on the head and stunned. So the packer was -drowned, and him too, worse luck! His riding horse -was found lower down—he’d swum out all right. They -fished up the pack saddle with the mail-bags, but -the letters were squashed up to pulp—couldn’t be -delivered.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So, if you wrote to any one <em>down the river, she -didn’t get it</em>.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I thought it as well to let you know, as you might -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>be waiting for an answer, and not getting one, go off -to foreign parts in <em>a despairing state of mind</em>. Bunjil’s -much the same as when you left, except that Little-River-Jack, -the two O’Haras, and Lanky Dixon were -arrested in Gippsland, but not being evidence enough, -the P.M. here turned them up. A report came that -you had struck it rich in Tasmania, so you may be -sure of getting <em>all</em> your letters now and some over. -I’ve noticed that. So long. I send a newspaper with -the account in it of the flood.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in4'>“Believe me always,</div> - <div class='line'>“Your sincere friend and well-wisher,</div> - <div class='line in6'>“<span class='sc'>Sheila Maguire</span>.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“P.S.—The cob goes first-rate with me. I’m learning -him to jump. He’s christened ‘Bunjil.’ I’m -going to live in Tumut after Christmas, and he will -remind me of the time you came here first.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“By Jove! Sheila, you’re a trump!” was Mr. -Blount’s very natural exclamation, as he arose and -walked up and down the room, after mastering the -contents of the momentous epistle. “This clears up -the mystery of their silence. No wonder they didn’t -write, Bruce thinking that I was willing to let -judgment go by default. Mrs. Bruce and Imogen -believing Heaven knows what? That I must be a -shady character, at any rate, no gentleman, or I -would have answered one or other of their letters—sent -in the goodness of their hearts. So this is the -explanation!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The temporary relief accorded to the recipient of -Sheila’s letter encouraged him to hunt through the -pile of newspapers for the unassuming <cite>Bunjil, Little -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>River, and Boggy Creek Herald</cite>, which, presently -descrying, he fastened upon the headlines, “Disastrous -flood.” “Great destruction of property.” “Lamentable -death by drowning.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We regret deeply to be compelled to chronicle -the melancholy and fatal accident by which Mr. John -Doyle, a valued employé of the Postal Department, -lost his life last week.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The mail from the township to the Tallawatta -Post-Office, by no means inconsiderable or unimportant, -is carried on horseback, though we have -repeatedly pointed out its inadequacy as a mode of -transport. Our remonstrance has unfortunately been -emphasised by the drowning of the mail-carrier, and -the total loss of the letters and papers. Mr. Doyle was -a fine young man, of steady habits, a good horseman -and expert swimmer. It is surmised that in attempting -to free the pack-horse, since discovered entangled -in a sunken tree root, he was kicked by the struggling -animal and stunned; the <em>post-mortem</em> examination -before the inquest, made by Dr. Dawson, M.D., who -came over from Beechworth for the purpose, disclosed -a deep cut on the temple and the mark of a horseshoe. -The coroner, with a jury of six, brought in a -verdict of ‘Accidental death by drowning.’ At the -funeral, nearly a hundred persons attended, showing -the respect in which the deceased was held by the -neighbours. Father O’Flynn of the Presbytery at -Hovell conducted the service. This occurrence has -cast quite a gloom over our township and the surrounding -district.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>So much for poor Johnny Doyle, a game, active, -hardworking son of the soil; sober and well conducted, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>the chief support of his widowed mother, -with a brood of half-a-dozen young children.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There was some argument after the funeral upon -the mystery of permitted evil, and the dispensation -which allowed the sacrifice of poor Johnny, whose -life was a benefit in his humble sphere, to all connected -with him, while as to certain worthless -members of the body politic, freely referred to by -name, the invariable verdict upon an apparently -charmed life was, “You couldn’t kill ’em with an -axe.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Though temporarily immersed in thought, Mr. -Blount quickly came to the conclusion that, as his -former letters had been prevented by fate from -achieving their purpose, it would be the obvious -course to write to the same persons at once, furnishing -the same explanation. He devoted the evening -to that duty solely, and after conveying to Mr. Bruce -his regrets for the unavoidable delay which had -occurred, and lamenting the injurious construction -which might be put upon his silence, made an appeal -to his sense of honour that he should be granted a -hearing, and be permitted to explain personally the -apparent inconsistency of his conduct.</p> - -<p class='c008'>To Mrs. Bruce he wrote with more freedom of -expression, deploring the unkind fate which had -denied him an opportunity of clearing away the -aspersions on his character. As to his non-appearance, -he had been called away by business of the -<em>greatest urgency</em>, affecting not only his own but other -people’s interests. His future prospects had been -deeply involved. Nothing short of prompt action -could have saved the situation. Now, he was rejoiced -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>to be able to assure her and Miss Imogen, that a -fortune of no inconsiderable amount was actually -within his grasp.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He forwarded a copy of the <cite>Hobart Intelligencer</cite>, a -respectable journal, in which she would find a confirmation -of his statement. Also, a detailed account -of the rise and progress of the property, though -more rose-coloured than he would care to assert. -The value of the property, a mining expert of -eminence had said, could hardly be over-estimated. -It was his intention, without more delay than the -consolidation of the directorate and other essential -arrangements required, to return to New South -Wales, and present himself before them at Marondah, -no matter what the outcome might be. The -result he felt would colour his future existence for -happiness or misery, yet he was determined to -undergo the ordeal. A final decision, however -disastrous, would be more endurable than the condition -of doubt and uncertainty under which he had -existed for the last few weeks. Accompanying these -letters was a packet containing letters of introduction -to the Governors of more than one colony. They -were from personages of high standing, even of great -political influence. Not couched in the formal -phraseology which the writers of such communications -hold to be sufficient for the purpose, they -spoke of the bearer as a young man of great promise, -who had unusual opportunities of rising in the -diplomatic or other official branches of the Civil -Service, but had, somewhat inconsiderately, preferred -to explore new and untried roads to fortune. The -writers had no doubt but that he would distinguish -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>himself in some form or other before his novitiate -was ended.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A short but impassioned appeal had been enclosed -in this letter to Mrs. Bruce. Her womanly compassion -would, he trusted, impel her to deliver it to -Imogen, whose sympathetic feelings, if not a warmer -emotion, which he hardly dared to classify, he felt -instinctively to be in his favour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Having completed his task, he was not satisfied -until he had posted the letters and packet with his -own hands, and with an unuttered prayer that they -would meet with no mischance similar to the last, he -returned to the Tasmanian Club, where he slept -soundly till aroused by the fully arisen sun and the -hum of labour, combined with the ceaseless clatter of -vehicles.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A man’s mental turmoils and uncertainties doubtless -act upon his physical constitution, but he must -indeed be exceptionally framed who can withstand -the cheering influence of a well-cooked breakfast and -a fine day in spring. The surroundings of a first-class -Australian Club are such as to cause the most -fastidious arrival from Europe to recognise the social -kinship of the cultured Briton to be worldwide and -homogeneous. The conventional quietude of manner, -the perfection of attendance, the friendliness towards -the stranger guest, all these minor matters, differentiated -from the best hotel life, tend to placate the -traveller, much as he may be given to criticise all -more or less foreign institutions, when distant from -the “Mecca” of his race.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So it came to pass that, on forth issuing from that -most agreeable caravanserai, his bruised and lacerated -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>spirit felt soothed by the courtesy of the members -generally, as well as of those immediately near to him -at the table where he sat. He had drifted easily into -conversation with several manifestly representative -men: with one, indeed, an all-powerful mining investor -(as he learnt subsequently), holding the fortunes -of a mammoth copper syndicate in the hollow of his -hand. Of this gentleman he took special heed, but -neither from his appearance, manner nor conversation -was he enabled to make a probable guess as to the -nature of his occupation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He might have been an <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">habitué</span></i> of cities, or a life-long -dweller in the country, interested in commerce, -in finance, pastoral or agricultural pursuits; in any -one of these, or in all. But there was nothing to indicate -it. A complete negation of the first person -singular marked his conversation, yet he was apparently -equally at ease in each and every topic as -they arose. One thing, however, could not be mistaken—the -massive frame and exceptional capacity -for leadership, which would seem to be wasted on a -city life.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Another of a widely different type had been his -right-hand neighbour at the genial but conventional -board—a young and fashionably-dressed man, -“native and to the manner born,” who seemed to -be the recognised <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">arbiter elegantiarum</span></i>, as well as -leader and referee of all sport and pastime. Secretary -to the polo club, steward at the forthcoming -Race-meeting and Hunt Club Cup, on the committee -of the Assembly Ball, also imminent, he tendered -an offer to our honorary member to procure seats, -tickets, and introductions for himself and friends, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>with special facilities for joining or witnessing these -annual celebrations. He also was not <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">affiché</span></i> to any -known profession—at least, to none that could be -gathered from looks or manner. Others of the -ordinary denizens of club-land to whom he was introduced -mentioned his partner, Mr. Tregonwell, as -an out-and-out good fellow, and, as a mining expert, -a benefactor to this island. He had evidently toned -down his exuberance in the interests of conventionality. -Mr. Blount, in contradistinction to the -men who had extended the right-hand of friendship -to him, was patently a <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">novus homo</span></i>—ticketed -as such by dress and deportment, and assured of -courteous entertainment from that very circumstance.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was early in the “season” for Hobart to be in -full swing as the recuperating region for the exhausted -dwellers in continental Australia, where from -Perth to the Gulf of Carpentaria King Sol reigns -supreme in the summer months. Still, there was no -lack of hospitality, including agreeable <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">réunions</span></i>, -which, more informal than in metropolitan Australian -cities, are pleasanter for that circumstance. There -was an old-fashioned air about the environs of -Hobart, a pleasantly-restful expression, a total absence -of hurry or excitement. Small farms with -aged orchards abounded, the fruit from which, exceptionally -well flavoured and plenteous, recalled the -village homes of Kent and Devon. Unlike the -dwellers on the continent, the yeomen—for such -they were—seemed fully contented with a life of -modest independence, which they were unwilling to -exchange for any speculative attempt to “better -themselves.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>What better position could they hope to attain -than a home in this favoured island, blessed with a -modified British climate and a fertile soil, where all -the necessaries of a simple yet dignified existence -were within reach of the humblest freeholder?</p> - -<p class='c008'>No scorching droughts, no devastating floods, no -destructive cyclones harassed the rural population. -Mr. Blount amused himself with daily drives through -the suburbs, within such distances as were accessible -in an afternoon. Having been much struck with the -action of a pair of cab-horses which he took for his -first drive, he arranged for their services daily during -his stay in Hobart. Of one—a fine brown mare, -occupying the “near” side in the pair—he became -quite enamoured; the way in which she went up the -precipitous road to Brown’s River, and down the -same on the return journey, without a hint from the -driver, stamped her, in his estimation, as an animal -of exceptional quality.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The metalled road, too, was not particularly -smooth, albeit hard enough to try any equine legs. -On inquiring the price the owner put on the pair, he -was surprised to find it was but £35. Twenty pounds -for his favourite, and fifteen for her less brilliant companion—useful -and stanch though she was, and a -fair match for shape and colour. He immediately -closed the bargain, and thought he should enjoy the -feeling of setting up his own carriage, so to speak; -a barouche, too, chintz-lined, as are most of the cabs -of Hobart—obsolete in fashion, but most comfortable -as hackney carriages.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Before the fortnight expired, to which he limited -his holiday, he was sensible of a slight, a very slight, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>change of feeling, though he would have indignantly -repelled any imputation of disloyalty to Imogen. -But it was not in human nature for a man of his age, -still on the sunny side of thirty, to live among bevies -of, perhaps, the handsomest women in Australasia, by -whom he found himself to be cordially welcomed, -without a slight alleviation of the feeling of gloom, if -not despair, into which the absence of any recognition -of his letters from Bunjil had thrown him. Moreover, -the reports of the richness of the Comstock mine, -confirmed, even heightened, by every letter from -Tregonwell, were in all the local papers.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A gentleman, lately arrived from Europe and -touring the colonies, now staying at the Tasmanian -Club, was known to be one of the original shareholders. -And if so, his income could not be stated -at less than £10,000 a year. It was by the merest -chance that Mr. Valentine Blount (such is the name, -we are informed, of this fortunate personage) bought -an original share in the prospecting claim, which must -be regarded henceforth as the ‘Mount Morgan’, of -Tasmania. Mr. Blount is a relative of Lord Fontenaye -of Tamworth, where the family possesses -extensive estates, tracing their descent, it is asserted, -in an uninterrupted line from the impetuous comrade -of Fitz Eustace, immortalised in <cite>Marmion</cite>.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Valentine Blount, it may well be believed, if popular -before this announcement, became rapidly more so, -reaching, indeed, the giddy eminence of the lion of -the day. Rank he was declared to possess, heir-presumptive -to a baronetcy, or indeed an earldom, as -well-informed leaders of society claimed to know, -with a large income at present, probably an immense -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>fortune in the future. Of course he would leave for -England at an early date. Handsome, cultured, -travelled, what girl could refuse him? So without -endorsing the chiefly false and vulgar imputation upon -Australian girls that he was “run after,” it may be -admitted that he was afforded every reasonable opportunity -of seeing the daughters of the land under -favourable conditions.</p> - -<p class='c008'>With the more lengthened stay which the “millionaire” -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">malgré lui</span></i> (so to speak) made in this enchanting -island, the more firmly was his opinion rooted that -he had fallen upon a section of “old-fashioned -England,” old-fashioned, it may be stated, only in -the clinging to the earlier ideals of that Arcadian -country life, which Charles Lamb, Addison, Crabbe, -and more lately, Washington Irving, have rendered -immortal. In the orchards, which showed promise of -being overladen with the great apple crop in the -sweet summer time, now hastening to arrive; in the -cider-barrels on tap in the wayside inns and hospitable -farmhouses; in the clover-scented meadows, where the -broad-backed sheep and short-horned cattle wandered -at will; in the freestone mansions of the squirearchy, -where the oak- and elm-bordered avenues, winding -from the lodge gate, the ranges of stabling, whence -issued the four-in-hand drags, with blood teams, -coachmen and footmen “accoutred proper” at race -meetings or show days, exhibited the firm attachment -which still obtained to the customs of their -English forefathers.</p> - -<p class='c008'>These matters, closely observed by the visitor, were -dear to his soul, proofs, if such were needed, of steadfast -progress in all the essentials of national life, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>without departing in any marked respect from the -ancestral tone.</p> - -<p class='c008'>At Hollywood Hall, at Westcotes, and at Malahide, -where he was made frankly welcome, he rejoiced in -these evidences of inherited prosperity, but still more -in association with the stalwart sons and lovely -daughters of the land. “Here,” he thought, as he -mused at early morn, or rode in the coming twilight -beneath the long-planted elms, oaks, walnuts and -chestnuts, of the far land, so distant, yet home-seeming, -“are the real treasures of old England’s -possessions, not gold or silver, diamonds or opals (and -such there are, as Van Haast assured me), but the -men and women, the children of the Empire, of whom, -in the days to come, we shall have need and shall be -proud to lead forth before the world.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Here, and in other offshoots of the “happy breed of -men” whom the parent isle has sent forth to people -the waste lands of the earth, shall the Anglo-Saxon -world hail its statesmen, jurists, warriors, poets, -writers, singers—not, indeed, as feeble imitators of -the great names of history, but bright with original -genius and strong in the untrammelled vigour of -newer, happier lands.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And why is Mr. Blount so deeply immersed in -thought,” asked a girlish voice, “that he did not hear -me coming towards him from the rose-garden, where -the frost has tarnished all my poor buds? You are -not going to write a book about us, are you? for if -so, I must order you off the premises.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Now what <em>can</em> be written but compliments, well-deserved -praises about your delightful country, and -its—well—charming inhabitants?” replied Blount, after -<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>apologising for his abstraction and shaking hands -warmly with the disturber of his reverie.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! that is most sweet of you to say so. But so -many Englishmen we have entertained have disappointed -us by either magnifying our small defects, -or praising us in the wrong place—which is worse.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That I am not going to write a book of ‘Tours -and Travels in Search of Gold,’ or anything of the -sort, I am free to make affidavit. But if I were, what -could I say, except in praise of a morning like this—of -a rose garden like the one you have just left, of an -ancient-appearing baronial hall like Hollywood, with -century old elms and oaks, and the squire’s daughter -just about to remind an absent-minded visitor of the -imminent breakfast bell? I saw it yesterday in the -courtyard of the stables, and what an imposing pile -it ornaments! Stalls for five and twenty horses—or -is it thirty? Four-in-hand drag in the coach house, -landau, brougham, dog carts, pony carriage—everything, -I give you my word, that you would find in a -country house in England.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You are flattering us, I feel certain,” said the -young lady, blushing slightly, yet wearing a pleased -smile at this <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">catalogue raisonné</span></i>; “of course I know -that the comparison only applies to English country -houses of the third or fourth class.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Those of the county magnates, like Chatsworth and -at Eaton, must be as far in advance of ours, as these -are superior to the cottages in which people lived -in pioneer days. However, there is the nine o’clock -bell for breakfast; we are punctual also at one for -lunch, which may or may not be needed to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The big bell clanged for about five minutes, during -<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>which visitors and members of the household were -seen converging towards the massive portico of the -façade of the Hall. It was a distinctly imposing -edifice, built of a neutral-tinted freestone, a material -which throughout the ages has always lent itself -easily to architectural development.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hollywood Hall, standing as it did on the border -of a river stocked with trout, and centrally situated -in a freehold estate of thirty thousand acres of fertile -land, might fairly be quoted as an object lesson -in colonising experience, as well as an example -of the rewards occasionally secured by the roving -Englishman.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The breakfast room though large appeared well -filled, as Blount and his fair companion joined the -party. Certain neighbours had ridden over, after the -informal manner of the land, in order to break the -journey to Hobart and spend a pleasant hour in the -society of the girls of Hollywood Hall. Truth to -tell, the sex was predominant, the proportion of the -daughters of the house being largely in excess of the -men. Tall, graceful, refined, distinctly handsome, -they afforded a notable instance of the favouring -conditions of Australian life. They possessed also -the open air accomplishments of their class. Hard -to beat at lawn tennis, they could ride and drive -better than the average man, following the hounds -of a pack occasionally hunted in the neighbourhood.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The merry tones and lively interchange of badinage -which went on with but little intermission during the -pleasant meal proved their possession of those invaluable -gifts of the budding maid—high health and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>unfailing spirits, with a sufficient, though not overpowering, -sense of humour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The squire, a well-preserved, fresh-looking, middle-aged -man, sitting at the head of his table with an -expression of mingled geniality and command, as the -contest of tongues waned, thought it well to suggest -the order of the day. “I feel sorry that I am obliged -to drive to an outlying farm on business, which will -occupy me the greater part of the day. So you will -have, with the assistance of Mrs. Claremont, to amuse -yourselves.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think we can manage that,” said the youngest -daughter, a merry damsel of sixteen. “Captain Blake -is going to drive Laura and me over to Deep Woods. -Mother says we can ask them to come over to dine, -as we <em>might</em> have a little dance afterwards.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“So that’s one part of the programme, is it? you -monkey,” said the host; “I might have known you -had some conspiracy on foot. However, if your -mother approves, it’s all right. Now, does any one -care about fishing, because the trout are taking the -fly well, and I heard that snipe were seen at the -Long Marsh yesterday; they’re a week earlier this -year”—this to the son and heir of the house; “what -were you intending to arrange?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, sir, I thought of driving over to see Joe and -Bert Bowyer—they’re just back from the old country—been -at Cambridge, too. I’ve got a fairish team -just taken up. Mr. Blount with two of the girls, and -Charlie could come. It’s a fine day for a drive; -perhaps the boys will come back with us.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But won’t you want some girls?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! I think we shall do, sir! Mother sent a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>note to Mrs. Fotheringay early this morning. They’ll -come, I’m pretty sure.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Aha! master Philip! <em>you</em> managed that, I can see. -Well, quite right—have all the fun you can now; -one’s only young once. So you think I may go -away with a clear conscience, as far as our guests are -concerned?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll be responsible, sir! you may trust me and -mother, I think,” said the son and heir, a tall, -resolute-looking youngster.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So the family council was concluded, and Mr. -Blount being informed that the drag party would not -start until eleven o’clock, rested tranquil in his mind. -Miss Laura, his companion of the morning, let him -know that for household reasons her society would -not be available until the drag was ready to start—but -that he would find a good store of books in the -library upstairs, also writing materials; if he had -letters to answer, the contents of the post-bag in the -hall would reach Hobart at six o’clock.</p> - -<p class='c008'>To this haven of peace Blount betook himself, -satisfied that he would have a sufficiency of outdoor -life before the end of the day, and not unwilling to -conclude pressing correspondence, before commencing -the round of gaiety which he plainly saw was cut out -for him. There was a really good collection of books -in the spacious library, from the windows of which an -extensive view of wood and wold opened out. He -felt tempted by the old records of the land, calf-bound -and numbered with the years of their publication, -but resolutely sat down to inform Tregonwell of -his whereabouts, with the probable duration of his -stay in the district; warning him to write at once if -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>any change took place in the prospects of the -Comstock. He also requested the secretary of the -Imperial Club at Melbourne to forward to his -Hobart address all letters and papers which might -arrive. This done, he satisfied himself that he was -outwardly fit to bear inspection, presented himself in -the hall a few minutes before the time named for the -start of the drag party, which he found was to be -accompanied by a mounted escort. A distinguished -looking neighbour whom everybody called “Dick,” -evidently on the most kindly, not to say affectionate -terms with all present, was here introduced to him as -Mr. Richard Dereker of Holmby—one of those -fortunate individuals, who come into the world gifted -with all the qualities which recommend the owner -equally to men and to women of all ranks, classes, -and dispositions. Handsome, gay, heir to a fine -estate, clever, generous, manly, he was fortune’s -favourite, if any one ever was. He had already come -to the front in the Colonial Parliament; there it was -sufficient for him to offer himself, for society to -declare that it was folly for any one to think of -opposing his election. He had been invited to join -the party, and as the idea of disappointing the -company was too painful to contemplate, he agreed -at once to join the mounted division. As, however, -he had ridden twenty miles already, Philip Claremont -insisted on handing over the reins of the drag to him, -and sending for a fresh hackney, prepared to follow -the drag on horseback. “Did Mr. Dereker drive -well?” Mr. Blount asked his next neighbour—as he -had noticed the four well-bred horses, in high condition, -giving young Claremont enough to do to hold -<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>them, as they came up from the stables; the leaders, -indeed, breaking into a hand gallop now and then.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Drive? Dick Dereker drive?” He looked astonished—“the -best four-in-hand whip in the island. -Phil is a very fair coachman, but there’s a finish -about Dereker, that no other man can touch.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>So, when the all-conquering hero, drawing on his -neatly fitting doeskin gloves, lightly ascended to the -box seat, the helpers at the leaders’ heads released -those fiery steeds: as Mr. Dereker drew the reins -through his fingers, and sat up in an attitude of -which Whyte Melville would have approved, every -feminine countenance in the party seemed irradiated -with a fresh gleam of brilliancy, while the team -moved smoothly off. The roads of Tasmania in that -day—formed chiefly with the aid of convict labour, of -which an unlimited supply was available for public -works—were the best in Australasia. Well-graded -and metalled—with mile stones at proper distances—lined -with hawthorn hedges, trimly kept for the -most part—passing through quiet villages where the -horses were watered, and the landlord of the inn -stood with head uncovered, according to traditional -courtesy, there was much to remind the stranger of -the mother land; to support the intercolonial contention -that Tasmania was the most English-appearing -of all the colonies, and in many respects, -the most advanced and highly civilised.</p> - -<p class='c008'>With this last opinion, Blount felt inclined to agree—although, -of course, other evidence might be forthcoming. -In conversation with Mr. Dereker, between -whom and himself Miss Laura Claremont was seated, -he learned that the larger estates from one of which he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>was coming, and to another of which he was going, had -been acquired by purchase or grant, at an early stage -of the occupation of the colony. The area of fertile -land being more circumscribed than in the colonies of -New South Wales and South Australia, the home -market good, and the Government expenditure -during the transportation system immense, while -labour was cheap and plentiful, it followed that -agricultural and pastoral pursuits became for a succession -of seasons most profitable.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Hence, the country gentlemen of the land, as in -the old days of the West Indian planters, were -enabled to build good houses—rear high-class horses, -cattle and sheep—and, in a general way, live comfortably, -even luxuriously. Owing to the high value of -the land and the richness of the soil, the distances -between the estates were not so great as in New -South Wales; were therefore convenient for social -meetings, for races, steeplechases, cricket, shooting -and hunting; Reynard’s place being supplied by the -wild dog, or “dingo,” who gave excellent sport, being -both fast and a good stayer. Like his British prototype, -he was a depredator, though on a more important -scale: sheep, calves and foals falling victims -to his wolfish propensities. So his pursuit answered -the double purpose of affording excellent sport, and -ridding the land of an outlawed felon.</p> - -<p class='c008'>With reference to hunting, of which old English -pastime Mr. Dereker was an enthusiastic supporter, -he explained that owing to the estates and farms -being substantially fenced, horses that could negotiate -the high and stiff rails were a necessity. The -breeding of hunters and steeplechasers had been -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>therefore encouraged from the earliest days of the -colony. Hacks and harness horses for similar reasons. -“So that,” said Mr. Dereker, allowing his whip to -rest lightly on his off side wheeler, “I don’t think -you will find a better bred, better matched team in -an English county than this, or four better hackneys -than those which are now overtaking us.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Certainly, Mr. Blount thought, there was no -reason to dispute the assertion. The team they sat -behind, two bays and two greys, driven chequer -fashion, a grey in the near lead, and another in the -off wheel, would be hard to beat. They were, -perhaps, hardly so massive as the English coach -horse, but while less powerful and upstanding, they -showed more blood and were generally handsomer. -This might account for the ease with which they -accomplished the twenty mile stage in little over the -two hours, and the unchanged form which they -carried to the journey’s end, with a fairly heavy load -behind them. As for the hackney division, when -Miss Dalton and her companion overtook the coach -just before they turned into the drive at Holmby, -there was a general expression of admiration from -the party, as the beautiful blood mare that she rode -reined up, tossing her head impatiently, while her -large, mild eye, full nostril, and high croup bore -testimony to the Arab ancestry.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! Zuleika <em>is</em> a beauty!” said Miss Laura, -looking with pardonable pride at the satin coat and -delicate limbs of the high-caste animal, “and though -she makes believe to be impatient, is as gentle as a -lamb. She is my personal property—we all have our -own horses—but I lent her to Grace Dalton to-day, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>for her palfrey, as the old romancers say, met with an -accident. She is a fast walker, and will show off -going up the drive.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You appear to have wonderfully good horses of -all classes in Tasmania,” said the guest; “indeed in -Australia generally, judging by those I saw in Victoria -and New South Wales—but here the hackneys and -harness horses seem to have more ‘class.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“For many years,” said Mr. Dereker, “we have had -the advantage of the best English blood—with -occasional high-caste Arab importations from India; -so there is no reason why, with a favourable climate, -and wide range of pasture, we should not have speed, -stoutness and pace equal to anything in the world. -But here we are at Walmer, so we must defer the -treatment of this fascinating subject till after lunch, -when the ladies have retired.” As he spoke, he -turned into the by road which led to the lodge gate, -which, opened by an aged retainer, admitted them to -a well-kept avenue shaded by oaks and elms, and -lined by hawthorn hedges. The house was a large -and handsome country home, differing in style and -architecture from Hollywood Hall, but possessing all -the requisite qualifications for hospitality needed by a -manor house. As they drove up to the entrance -steps, a fine boy of fourteen ran out and assisted Miss -Claremont to descend, after which he nimbly climbed -up beside the driver, saying, “Oh! Mr. Dereker, isn’t -it a jolly team?—won’t you let me drive round to the -stables; you know I can drive?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You drive very well, for your time of life, Reggie, -but these horses pull, so be careful.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I can hold them,” said the confident youngster, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>who, indeed, took over the reins in a very workman-like -manner, “besides they’ve done twenty miles with -a load behind them. Aren’t you going to stay all -night?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Might have thought of it, Reggie, but the ladies -are not prepared; we must get your sister to come -instead—you too, if your father will let you. I -suppose Joe and Bertie are at home? How does -Tasmania strike them after the old country?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! they’re jolly glad to get back, though they’ve -had a ripping time of it. Father says they must set -to work now for the next few years. Who’s the man -that was next to you? Englishman, I expect!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! Mr. Blount, only a year out. Seems a good -sort, partner with Tregonwell in that new silver mine, -the Eldorado.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My word! he’s dropped into a good thing, they -say it’s ever so rich, and getting better as they go -down. I must get father to let me go to the Laboratory -in Melbourne, and study up mineralogy. It’s the -best thing going, for a younger son. I don’t want to -be stuck at a farm all my life, ploughing and harrowing -for ever. Joe and Bertie will have the old place, and -I must strike out, to get anything out of the common.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Quite right, Reggie, nothing like adventure, only -don’t go too fast. Here we are.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Reggie pulled up in the centre of a square, on all sides -of which was a goodly number of stalls, loose boxes, -cow houses, and all things suitable for a great breeding -establishment, where pure stock of all kinds were -largely reared. The horses were promptly taken out -and cared for, while Mr. Dereker, admiringly gazed -at by the whole staff, exchanged a few words of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>greeting with the head groom, and older stable men, -before he accompanied Master Reggie to the great -hall, which was evidently used for morning reception.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It had magnificent proportions, and was decorated, -according to traditional usage, with the spoils of the -chase—mostly indigenous, though the forest trophies -gave evidence that the men of the house had not -always been home-keeping youths. In addition to -fine heads of red, and fallow deer, kangaroo skins, and -dingo masks, “tigers” and “devils” (Australian -variety) stuffed, as also the rarer wombat and platypus, -there were trophies which told of hunting parties -in the South African “veldt,” and the jungles of -Hindostan. Horns of the eland, and the springbok, -alternated with lion and tiger skins, bears and -leopards!</p> - -<p class='c008'>The sons of the first generation of landholders had -gone far afield for sport and adventure before they -decided to settle down for life, in the fair island which -their fathers had won from the forest and the savage.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There was scant leisure to muse over these, or other -gratifying developments, as the buzz of conversation, -extremely mirthful and vivacious, which was in full -swing when Mr. Dereker and his young companion -entered the hall, was apparently accelerated by their -arrival.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A certain amount of chaff had evidently been -directed against the two collegians, so lately returned -from their university. How did the men and maidens -of the old country compare with their compatriots here—in -athletics, in field sports, in looks (this related only -to the feminine division), and so forth? Mr. Joe and -Mr. Bertie Bowyer had been apparently hard set to hold -<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>their ground; beset as they were by sarcastic advice, -adjured to keep to the strict line of truth on one side—but -not to desert their native land on the other—they -were in imminent danger of wreck from -Scylla, or Charybdis. Their opinions were chiefly as -follows:</p> - -<p class='c008'>In athletics and field sports the colonists held their -own fairly well, with perhaps a trifle to spare. -Notably in the hunting field; the small enclosures -and high stiff fences of Tasmania giving them practice -and experience over a more dangerous line of -country than any in Britain. In horsemanship, -generally, the colonists were more at home, from -having been in youth their own grooms and horse-breakers. -In shooting, and the use of the gloves, -particularly in the art of self-defence, the Australians -showed a disposition to excel. Already a few -professionals from Sydney had shown good form -and staying power. In boating there was a distinct -and growing improvement, few of the Oxford and -Cambridge boat-races being without a colonist in -one or other crew. There was often one in both. -This state of matters is hailed with acclamation. The -great advantage which the old country possessed in -the way of sport lay in the social environment. The -difference between its pursuit here and in Britain -consisted in the fact that the seasons were carefully -defined, and the laws of each division strictly adhered -to. Moreover, in whatever direction a man’s tastes -lay, hunting, fishing, shooting, or coursing, he was -always sure of the comradeship of the requisite -number of enthusiastic <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">habitués</span></i> and amateurs.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After lunch, which was a conspicuously cheerful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>reunion, it was decided that a start homeward was to -be made at four o’clock sharp. In the meantime, -the brothers Bowyer intimated their intention to drive -over in a mail phaeton, which they had brought out -with them, built by Kesterton of Long Acre, with all -the newest improvements of the most fashionable -style. One of the Misses Bowyer and her friend, -Jessie Allan, an acknowledged belle from Deloraine, -would join the party; Reggie might come too, as -he was a light weight, and would be useful for opening -gates. The intervening time was spent in exploring -the orchard and gardens, both of which were on an -unusually extensive scale. The fruit trees, carefully -pruned and attended to, were of great age. Indeed -Mr. Blount felt impelled to remark that apparently -one of the first things the early settlers seem to have -done, after building a house, not a mansion, for that -came afterwards, was to plant a garden and orchard.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Our grandfathers,” said Mr. Joe Bowyer, “remind -me of the monks of old, who, in establishing the -abbeys, which I always examined in our walking -tours, for I am an archaeologist in a very small way, -always took care to choose a site not far from a trout -stream, and with good meadow lands adjoining, -equally suitable for orchard, corn or pasture. These -estates mostly commenced with a Crown grant of a -few thousand acres, such as were given at the discretion -of the early Governors, to retired officers of the -army and navy, many of whom decided to settle permanently -in the island. The grantee had a certain -time allotted to make his choice of location. This he -employed in searching for the best land, with access -to markets, &c. In a general way, the country being -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>open, and there being at that time no system of sale -by auction of bush land, the nucleus was secured of -what has since become valuable freeholds.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I should think they were,” said the stranger guest, -“and in the course of time, with the increase of population, -as the country becomes fully settled, must become -more valuable still. Do you look forward to -spending the whole of your lives here, you and your -brother, or retiring to England, where your rents, I -should suppose, would enable you to live very comfortably?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We might have a couple of years in the old -country,” said the Tasmanian squire, “before we get -too old to enjoy things thoroughly, but after a run -over the Continent, for a final memory, this is our -native land, and here we shall live and die.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But the fulness of life in Britain, foreign travel, -the great cities of the world, music, art, literature -such as can be seen and enjoyed in such perfection -nowhere else, why leave them for ever?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, of course, all that is granted, but a man has -something else to do in the world but merely to -enjoy himself, intellectually or otherwise. This land -has made <em>us</em>, and we must do something for it in -return. Luxuries are the dessert, so to speak, of the -meal which sustains life. They fail to satisfy or -stimulate after a while. We are Australians born -and bred; in our own land we are known and have -a feeling of comradeship with our countrymen of -every degree. The colonist, after a few years, has -an inevitable feeling of loneliness in Europe, which -he cannot shake off. It is different with an Englishman -however long he has lived here. He goes home to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>his family and friends, who generally welcome him, -especially if he has made a fortune. Even they, -however wealthy and used to English life, often return -to Australia. There is something attractive in -the freer life, after all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes, I suppose there must be,” and a half sigh -ended the sentence, as he thought of Imogen Carrisforth’s -hazel eyes and bright hair, her frank smile -and joyous tones, a very embodiment of the charm -and graces of divine youth. A cloud seemed to -have settled upon his soul, as his companion led -the way to the entrance hall, where the whole party -was collecting for the homeward drive. However, -putting constraint upon his mental attitude, he took -his seat with alacrity beside his fair companion of -the morning.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>The</span> return drive was made in slightly better time -than the morning journey, the English mail phaeton -of the Messieurs Bowyer, with a pair of exceptional -trotters, taking the lead. The mounted contingent -followed at a more reasonable pace, as they had from -time to time to put “on a spurt” to come up with -the drag, harness work, as is known to all horsemen, -keeping up a faster average pace than saddle. However, -everybody arrived safely at the Hall in excellent -spirits, as might have been gathered from the cheerful, -not to say hilarious, tone which the conversation had -developed. Mr. Blount, in especial, whose ordinary -optimism had reasserted sway, told himself that (with -one exception) never had he enjoyed such a delicious -experience of genuine country life. There was no -more time available than sufficed for a cup of afternoon -tea and the imperative duty of dressing for -dinner. At this important function the mistress of the -house had exercised a wise forecast, since, when the -great table in the dining-room, duly laid, flowered, -and “decored with napery,” met the eyes of the -visitors, it was seen that at least double as many -guests had been provided for as had assembled -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>at breakfast. “Dick!” said the host to Mr. Dereker, -“Mrs. Claremont says you are to take the vice-chair; -you’ll have her on your right and Miss Allan on your -left—wisdom and beauty, you see—so you can’t go -wrong. Philip, my boy! you’re to take the right -centre, with Joe Bowyer and Miss Fotheringay on -one side, Laura and Mr. Blount on the other. Jack -Fotheringay fronts you, with any young people he -can get. I daresay he’ll arrange that. You must -forage for yourselves. Now I can’t pretend to do -anything more for you. I daresay you’ll shake -down.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>So they did. There was much joking and pleasant -innuendo as the necessary shufflings were made, -brothers and sisters, husbands and wives having to be -displaced and provided with neighbours not so closely -related. Nothing was lacking as far as the material -part of the dinner was concerned—a famous saddle -of mutton, home-grown from a flock of Southdowns -kept in the park, descended from an early English -importation; a grand roast turkey, upon which the -all-accomplished Mr. Dereker operated with practised -hand, as did the host upon the Southdown, expatiating -at intervals upon the superiority of the breed for -mutton purposes only. The red currant jelly was a -product of the estate, superintended in manufacture -by one of the daughters of the house; trout from the -river, black duck from the lake, equal to his canvas-back -relative of the Southern States; a haunch, too, -of red deer venison, Tasmanian born and bred. For -the rest, everything was well cooked, well served, and -excellent of its kind. Worthy of such viands was the -appetite of the guests, sharpened by the exercise and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>a day spent chiefly in the open air, the keen, fresh, -island atmosphere.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The host’s cellar, famous for age and quality in -more than one colony, aided the general cheerfulness. -So that if any of the fortunate guests at that memorable -dinner had aught but praise for the food, the -wines, the company, or the conversation, they must -have been exceptionally hard to please. So thought -Mr. Blount, who by and by joined the ladies, feeling -much satisfied with himself and all the surroundings. -Not that he had done more than justice to the host’s -claret, madeira, and super-excellent port. He was on -all occasions a temperate person. But there is no -doubt that a few glasses of undeniably good wine, -under favourable conditions, such as the close of an -admirable dinner, with a dance of more than common -interest to follow, may be considered to be an aid to -digestion, as well as an incentive to a cheerful outlook -upon life, which tends, physicians tell us, to longevity, -with health of body and mind.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It happened, fortunately, to be a moonlight night. -The day had been one of those of the early spring, -which warm, even hot, in the afternoon, presage, in -the opinion of the weather-wise, an early summer, -which prediction is chiefly falsified. But while this -short glimpse of Paradise is granted to the sons of -men, no phrase can more truly describe it. Cloudless -days, warmth, without oppressive heat, tempered by -the whispering ocean breeze, beseeching the permission -of the wood nymphs to invade their secret -haunts, all flower, and leaf, and herb life responsive to -the thrilling charm—the witchery of the sea voices.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Such had been the day. That the drives and rides -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>through the green woodland, the hill parks, the -meadow fields, had been absolutely perfect all admitted. -Now the evening air seemed to have gained -an added freshness. When the French windows of -the ballroom were thrown open it was predicted that -many a couple would find the broad verandahs, or -even the dry and shaded garden paths, irresistibly -enticing after the first few dances.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Such, indeed, was the case. What with accidental -and invited guests, the number had been increased to -nearly twenty couples, all young, enthusiastic, fairly -musical, and devoted to the dance.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The music, indeed, had been an anxiety to the -hostess. The piano was a fine instrument, luckily in -perfect tune. Half the girls present could play dance -music effectively. But another instrument or two -would be <em>such</em> an aid in support.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then inquiry was made; Chester of Oaklands was -a musical amateur, the violin was his favourite -instrument, he was so good-natured that he could -be counted upon. Then there was young Grant -of Bendearg, who played the cornet. So, messengers -with polite notes were despatched on horseback, and -both gentlemen, being luckily found at home, were -secured. The band was complete. Mr. Blount, with -proper precaution, had secured the hand of Miss -Laura Claremont at dinner, for two waltzes, a polka, -and the after-supper galop; among her sisters and -the late arrivals he had filled his card. These had -been written out by volunteer damsels during the -after-dinner wait.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He had, therefore, no anxiety about his entertainment -for the evening. No time was lost after the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>conclusion of the dinner. The young ladies from -Cranstoun and Deepdene had, of course, brought -the necessary evening wear with them. Mr. Blount’s -English war-paint had been stored in Melbourne -while he was learning something about gold-fields -and cattle-lifting, this last involuntarily. He was -“accoutred proper,” and as such, not troubled with -anxiety about his personal appearance. The Bowyers, -of course, were resplendent in “the very latest” -fashion; as to canonicals, the other men were fairly -up to the standard of British evening toggery, and -for the few who were not, allowances were made, as -is always the case in Australia. People can’t be -expected to carry portmanteaux about with them, -especially on horseback, and as they were among -friends they got on quite as well in the matter of -partners as the others.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It certainly was a good dance. The music kept -going nobly. The young lady at the piano was -replaced from time to time, but the male musicians -held on till supper time without a break. When -that popular distraction was announced half-an-hour’s -interval for refreshments was declared, after which a -good-natured damsel stole in, and indulged the -insatiable juniors with a dreamy, interminable waltz. -Then the two men recommenced with the leading -lady amateur, and a polka of irresistible swing and -abandonment soon filled the room.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Certainly a dance in the country in any part of -Australia is an object lesson as to the vigour and -vitality of the race. All Australian girls dance well—it -would seem to be a natural gift. Chiefly slender, -lissom, yet vigorous in health, and sound in constitution, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>they dance on, fleet-footed and tireless, as the -fabled Nymphs and Oreads of ancient Hellas. Hour -after hour passed, still unwearied, unsated, were the -dancers, until the arrival of the soup suggested that -the closure was about to be applied. But the -dawnlight was stealing over the summit of the -mountain range when the last galop had come to an -end, and a few couples were by way of cooling -themselves in the verandah or the garden paths. -Here, and at this hour, Mr. Blount found himself -alone with Laura Claremont, who had indeed, in -spite of faltering maiden remonstrance, completed -her fifth dance with him. He was not an unstable, -indiscriminate admirer, least of all a professional -trifler with the hearts of women, but he had been -strongly attracted (perhaps interested would be the -more accurate word) by her quiet dignity, conjoined -with refinement and high intelligence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>She had read largely, and formed opinions on -important questions with greater thoroughness than -is the habit of girls generally. Without being a -recognised beauty, she had a striking and distinguished -appearance. Her dark hair and eyes, the -latter large and expressive, the delicate complexion -for which the women of Tasmania are noted, in -combination with a noble figure and graceful shape, -would have given her a foremost position by looks -alone in any society. The expression of her features -was serious rather than gay, but when the humorous -element was invoked a ripple of genuine mirth -spread over her countenance, the display of which -added to her modest, yet alluring array of charms.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Such was the woman with whom Blount had been -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>thrown temporarily into contact for the last few -days, and this night had shown him more of her -inward thoughts and feelings, unveiled as they were -by the accidents of the dance and the driving party, -than he had ever dreamed of. Returning to the -ballroom, the final adieus were made, and as he -pressed her yielding hand he felt (or was it fancy?) -an answering clasp.</p> - -<p class='c008'>On the following day he had arranged to leave for -Hobart, as he expected to deal with propositions -lately submitted for the amalgamation of the original -prospecting claim with those adjoining, thus to -include a larger area upon which to float a company -to be placed upon the London market, with an -increased number of shares.</p> - -<p class='c008'>This had been done at the suggestion of Mr. Tregonwell, -whose energetic temperament was constantly -urging him to cast about for improved conditions -of management, and a more profitable handling of -the great property which kind fortune had thrown -into their hands.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What is the sense,” he had asked in his last letter -from the mine, “of going on in the slow, old-fashioned -way, just turning out a few thousand ounces of silver -monthly, and earning nothing more than a decent -income, this fabulously rich ore body lying idle, so -to speak, for want of organisation and enterprise? -The specimens already sent home have prepared the -British investors for the flotation of a company, of -which a large proportion of the shares will be offered -to the public. I propose to call a meeting of the -shareholders in Number One and Two, North, and -South, and submit a plan for their consideration at once.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“With our property thrown in we can increase the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>shares to five hundred thousand one pound shares, -resuming a hundred thousand paid up original shares -from the prospectors. You and I, Herbert and -Clarke, pool the lot and put them before the public, -allotting so many to all applicants before a certain -day—after which the share allotment list will be -closed. With the increased capital, we can then -carry out and complete such improvements as are -absolutely necessary for the working of the mine on -the most productive scale, ensuring a return of almost -incredible profits within a comparatively short period. -In a series of years, the price of silver may fall—the -money market, in the event of European wars, become -restricted, and in fact the future, that unknown -friend or enemy to all mundane affairs, may blight -the hopes and expectations which now appear so -promising.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Everything is favourable <em>now</em>, the mine, the output, -the market—money easy, machinery available -on fair terms. But we don’t know how soon a cloud -<em>may</em> gather, a storm—financial or political—may burst -upon us. The directors in the great Comstock Mine -in America looked at things in that light—doubled -their capital, quadrupled their plant, built a railway, -and within five years banked dollars enough to enable -the four original prospectors (I knew Flood and -Mackay well—worked with them in fact—when we -were all poor men) to become and <em>remain</em> millionaires -to the end of their lives. Meanwhile giving entertainments, -and building palaces, which astonished all -Europe, and America as well—a more difficult matter -by far.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Now, what do we want, you will ask, for all this -development, this Arabian Night’s treasure house? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>I say—and I am talking strict business—that we must -have, presuming that the ‘Great Tasmanian Proprietary -Comstock and Associated Silver Mines -Company, Limited,’ comes off, and the shares will be -over-applied for twice over—what do we want, I -repeat? A battery with the newest inventions and -improvements—a hundred stamps to begin with. It -may be, of course, increased; we shall provide for -such a contingency.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Secondly, we must have a railway—from the mine -to the port—to carry our men—materials, supplies -generally. We can’t go back to this Peruvian mode -of transit-carrying—on men’s backs, at a frightful -waste of time and money. We can’t afford the <em>time</em>—it’s -not a question so much of money as of <em>time</em>, -which is wasting money at compound interest. We -want a wharf at Strahan and a steamer of our own to -take the ore to Callao. She’ll pay for herself within -the year. Is that all? I hear you asking with your -cynical drawl, which you affect, I know you, when -you’re most interested.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, <em>sir</em>! as we all learnt to say in the States—the -best comes last. We want a first-class American -mining manager—a real boss—chock full of scientific -training from Freiberg, practical knowledge gathered -from joining the first crowd at Sutter’s Mill—and -more important than all, the knack of keeping a -couple of thousand miners, of different creeds, -countries and colours, all pulling one way, and him -keeping a cool head in strikes and other devilries -that’s bound to happen in every big mine in the -world, specially when she’s doin’ a heap better than -common—see! His price is £5,000 a year, not a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>cent less—if you want the finished article!” Here, -Mr. Tregonwell’s fiery eloquence, albeit confined to -cold pen and ink, led him into the mining American -dialect, so easy to acquire, so difficult to dislodge—which -he had picked up in his early experiences. In -the class with which he had chiefly associated in -earlier years, and to which he belonged in right of -birth, he could be as punctiliously accurate in manner -and speech, as if he had never quitted it. With a -certain reluctance, as of one committing himself to a -voyage upon an unknown sea, his more prudent, but -less practical partner gave a guarded consent to these -daring propositions, premising, however, that the -company must be complete in legal formation and -the shares duly allotted, before a cheque was signed -by Frampton Tregonwell and Company, in aid of -operations of such colossal magnificence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount excused himself from accepting a -pressing invitation to remain another week at this -very pleasant reproduction of English country house -life, on the plea of urgent private affairs, but he -acceded to Mr. Dereker’s suggestion that he should -stay a night with him at Holmby, on the way to -Hobart, where he would undertake to land him an -hour or two before the coach could arrive. This was -a happy conjunction of business and pleasure, against -which there was no valid argument. So, with many -regrets by guest and entertainers, and promises on -the part of the former to return at the earliest -possible opportunity, he after breakfast started in Mr. -Dereker’s dog-cart from the hospitable precincts of -Hollywood Hall.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Holmby, the well-known headquarters of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>sporting magnates of the island, was reached just -“within the light,” though, as the road was exceptionally -good—metalled, bridged, and accurately graded -all through—the hour of arrival was not of great -consequence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Dereker was a bachelor, and had mentioned -something about bachelor’s fare and pot luck -generally, to which Mr. Blount, feeling equal to -either fortune, had made suitable reply. Rather to -his surprise, however, as his host had driven round -to the stables they saw grooms and helpers busy in -taking out the team of a four-in-hand drag.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The equipage and appointments arrested his attention, -and caused him to utter an exclamation. They -constituted indeed an uncommon turn-out. An -English-built coach—such as the Four-in-hand and -the coaching clubs produce on the first day of the -season, for the annual procession, so anxiously -awaited, so enthusiastically watched,—complete with -every London adjunct, from hamper to horn, etc. -The horses had just been detached, and were, at Mr. -Dereker’s order, detained for inspection. Four flea-bitten -greys, wonderfully matched, and sufficiently -large and powerful to warrant their easy action in -front of so heavy a drag, as the one in which they -had been driven over. Their blood-like heads, and -striking forehands, not less than their rounded back -ribs, and powerful quarters, denoted the fortunate -admixture of the two noblest equine families—the -Arab and the English thoroughbred: of size and -strength they had sufficient for all or any harness -work, while their beauty and faultless matching -would have graced any show-ground in England.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>“This team was bred by a relative of mine, who is -a great amateur in the coaching line, and is thought -to be the best team in Australasia! His place, -Queenhoo Hall, is only fifteen miles off. He is a -connection by marriage: therefore we don’t stand on -ceremony. I suspect he is giving his team an airing -before driving them to the Elwick Races next month, -where he always turns out in great style. You will -not have a dull evening, for his wife and a niece or -two are sure to have accompanied him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>In passing through the outer hall, such an amount -of mirthful conversation reached the ear, as led to the -belief in Mr. Blount’s mind, that either the number of -the Squire’s nieces had been under-stated, or that, -according to the custom of the country, the coach -had been reinforced on the way. So it proved to be—the -hall was apparently half full of men and -maidens, unto whom had been added a few married -people, as well as a couple of subalterns from a -regiment then quartered in Hobart. The chaperons -were not noticeably older than their unmarried -charges, so that the expectation of a dance was fully -justified.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount was introduced to the “Squire,” as he -was universally called, as also to his nieces, two -attractive-looking girls; and of course, to all the -other people, civil and military. He felt as he once -did in the west of Ireland, where he accepted so -many invitations to spend a month, that the number -of months would have had to be increased if he had -not more than a year in which to keep holiday. He -complimented the Squire, with obvious sincerity, on -his wonderful team, and promised, strictly reserving -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>compliance until after the flotation of the great -mining company, to visit him at Queenhoo Hall in -the summer time now approaching. The dinner and -the dance were replicas of those he had enjoyed at -Hollywood. Here he had another opportunity of -admiring the lovely complexions, graceful figures, -and perfect grace and fleetness of the daughters of -the land in the waltz or galop, and when he started -for Hobart soon after sunrise, the drive through the -fresh morning air dispelled all feelings of weariness, -which, under the circumstances, he might have felt, -after hearing the cock crow two mornings running -before going to bed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Heaven knows how long this sort of thing might -have lasted, if that letter of Tregonwell’s had not -turned up last night,” he told himself. “There is a -time for all things—and if I do not mistake, it is high -time now, as our pastors and masters used to say, to -make a stern division between work and play—‘poculatum -est, condemnatum est,’ so ‘nunc est -agendum’ in good earnest.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hobart, reached two hours before the coach could -have drawn up before the post-office, reassured him -as to Mr. Dereker’s guarantee holding good. A cab -from the nearest stand bore him and his luggage to -the Tasmanian Club, where, freed from the distractions -of country houses, he was able to collect his -thoughts before attacking the great array of letters -and papers, which met his eye when he entered his -room.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A copy of the morning paper reposing on the -dressing-table disclosed the fact in an aggressive -headline that the Proprietary Tasmanian Comstock -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>and Associated Silver Mines Company (Limited) was -already launched upon the Australian mining world, -and indeed upon that of Europe, and the Universe -generally.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The Directors of this magnificent silver property, -which includes the original Comstock Claim—amalgamated -with the Associated Silver Mines -Company we understand”—wrote the fluent pen of -the Editor of the <cite>Tasmanian Times</cite>—“have at length -succumbed to outside pressure, and in the interest of -the British and Colonial Public, consented to form -these mines of unparalleled richness into a company. -The Directors are Messrs. Valentine Blount, Frampton -Tregonwell, and Charles Herbert and John Westerfield -Clarke, names which will assure the shareholders -of honourable and straightforward dealing at the -hands of those to whom their pecuniary interests are -committed. These names are well and favourably -known in England, in Mexico, in the United States -of America, and the Dominion of Canada. Comment -is superfluous—they speak for themselves.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Wherever gold or silver mining is carried on the -names of Clarke and Tregonwell are familiar as ‘household -words’ and always associated with skilled -treatment and successful operations. That this -enterprise will have a beneficial effect not only upon -the mining, but on the commercial, and all other -industries of Tasmania, lifting her, with her fertile -soil, her equable climate, her adaptability for all -agricultural and pastoral products to her proper -place in the front rank of Australian colonies no -sane man can henceforth doubt. A line of steamers -from Strahan to Hobart, a short though expensive -railway, and a metalled coach road, are among the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>indispensable enterprises which Mr. Tregonwell -assured our representative would be commenced -without delay. Advance, Tasmania!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Looking hastily through the pile of unopened -letters, but keeping private-and-confidential-appearing -correspondence strictly apart, and relegating those in -Mr. Tregonwell’s bold, rapid handwriting, to a more -convenient season, he started, and trembled, as his -eye fell upon a letter in Mrs. Bruce’s handwriting -which bore the Marondah postmark. His heart -almost stopped beating, when an enclosed note fell -out, still more likely to affect his inmost soul. Yes! -it was in the handwriting, so closely scanned, so -dearly treasured in the past, of Imogen Carrisforth. -For the moment, a spasm of regret, even remorse -affected him painfully. He stood self-convicted by -his conscience of having lingered in frivolous, social -enjoyment, while uncertain of the welfare and feelings -of one who had aroused the deepest emotions of his -being, nor had he (with shame he reflected) taken all -possible means to discover to what circumstance it -was that his letters had been apparently treated -with indifference or contempt.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mrs. Bruce’s letter gave an explanation which, -though not fully comprehensive, cleared up a part of -the mystery, as far as Imogen was concerned. It -ran as follows:—</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Mr. Blount</span>,—I am afraid you must -have thought us a very ill-mannered set of people, -as it seems by your letter of — that you have not -received <em>any answer</em> to your letters written the night -before you left Bunjil for Melbourne. Yet, it was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>scarcely our fault. That poor lad who was drowned -in the flood, which rose on the <em>very day</em> you left, -carried answers from me and Imogen; these, I think, -you would have considered friendly, and even in -a sense apologetic for my husband’s attitude in -condemning you unheard. We both scolded him -soundly for deciding your case so hastily, in disregard -of the laws of evidence. <em>He</em> particularly, -who is looked upon as the best magistrate on the -Marondah bench. We got him to hear reason at -last, and to write expressing regret that he had made -no allowance for your ignorance of our bush population, -and their ways with stock. This letter was in the -bags of the mail coach to Waroonga, and <em>it also</em> was -lost when two horses were drowned at Garlung: the -bridge being six feet under water. None of the -passengers were injured, but the coach was swept -down the stream with the mail bags, which have not -been recovered. It certainly was a most unlucky -occurrence, for all concerned.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“When your letter from Melbourne arrived, poor -Imogen was laid up with a bad attack of influenza, -from the effects of which she was confined to bed for -several weeks, her lungs having been attacked and -pneumonia supervening; so that what with nursing her, -and Mr. Bruce having left on a three months’ trip to -Queensland, all correspondence was suspended for a -while. She was very nearly <em>dying</em>, and in fact was -given up by two out of three of the doctors who -attended her!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Her good constitution pulled her through, and -she has regained her former health, though not her -spirits, poor girl!</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>“Then, after she was up, all these accounts of your -wonderful success in Tasmania, and large fortune -derived from the Tasmanian Silver Mine (I can’t -recollect its name) were circulated in the district. -On account of this she did not write, as I wanted -her to do, fearing (very foolishly, as I told her) lest -you might think her influenced by your altered -fortunes. She is not that sort of girl, I can safely assert. -The man who touched her heart would remain there -installed, for richer, for poorer, till death’s parting hour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Whether you have said more to her than she has -told me—she is very reserved about herself—I cannot -say. I have written fully, perhaps too much so, as to -which I trust to your honour, but my sole intention -has been to clear up all doubts on your part, as to the -feeling which actuates us as a <em>family</em>, about the past -misunderstanding. I enclose a scrap which she gave -me reluctantly.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Yours sincerely,</div> - <div class='line in4'>“<span class='sc'>Hildegarde Bruce</span>.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Blount picked up the half sheet of notepaper, -which having kissed reverently, and indeed twice -repeated the action, he read as follows. Very faint -and irregular were the characters:—</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What a chapter of accidents since you left! Poor -Johnny Doyle drowned! my letter and Hilda’s lost. -Your reply also never came.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My illness, in which I was ‘like to die’ following -closely.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We thought you had left without troubling to -answer our letters—at least, <em>they</em> did. My sister has -written you <em>sheets</em>, so I need not enlarge upon matters. -Edward is still in Queensland. The weather is lovely -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>now, after the cold winter. If you can tear yourself -away from Hobart, you might see what Marondah -looks like in early summer.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Yours truly,</div> - <div class='line in5'>“<span class='sc'>Imogen</span>.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Blount’s reply, <em>by telegram</em>, was sent with no -unnecessary loss of time:—</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Leaving for Melbourne and Marondah by to-morrow’s -steamer.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Other letters, papers, circulars, requests, invitations -in shoals lay ready for inspection. All the tentative -appeals, complimentary and otherwise, which track -the successful individual in war or peace, law, letters, -or commerce. A large proportion of these were transmitted -to the waste-paper basket—a piece of furniture -now rendered necessary by the volume of Mr. Blount’s -correspondence.</p> - -<p class='c008'>He felt inclined to burn the whole lot, excepting -those relative to the development of the Tasmanian -Comstock and Associated Silver Mines Company -(Limited), now stamped on a score of large and -portentous envelopes.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Making a final search, a letter was detached from a -superincumbent mass, the superscription of which had -the Tumut and Bunjil postmarks. This was sufficient -to arrest his attention. The handwriting, too, was -that of Sheila Maguire, whose interest in his -welfare did not seem to have declined.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Mr. Blount</span>,—I little thought, when I -used to get up at all hours to make you comfortable -in our back block shanty, that this humble individual -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>was ministering (that’s a good word, isn’t it? I’ve -been reading up at odd times) to the wants of a -Director of the Great Comstock Silver Mines Company. -What a lark it seems, doesn’t it? And you, -that didn’t know the difference between quartz and -alluvial then!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Shows what a fine country Australia is, when a -gentleman may be nearly run in for ‘duffing’ one -month, and the next have all the world bowing and -scraping to him as a millionaire! That’s not my line, -though, is it? The money, if you had ten times as -much, wouldn’t make Sheila Maguire more your friend—your -<em>real friend</em>—than she is now. The other way -on, if anything. And there’s a young lady down the -river—not that I even myself with <em>her</em>, only she’s a -‘cornstalk’—one of the same brand, as the saying is. -<em>She</em> don’t mind the dirty money—any fool can come -by that, or any man that’s contented to live like a -black-fellow, and save farthings till they mount up. -He can’t help it. But who’d take him, with his muck-rake?</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Great book, <cite>Pilgrim’s Progress</cite>, isn’t it? Just fell -across it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘What the devil’s the girl driving at?’ I hear you -say. That’s not much of a swear for Bunjil, is it? -Well, you’ll see about it in the postscript, by and by.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“First and foremost, I want a hundred shares in -the Great Comstock Associated. On the ground -floor. <em>Original</em>, like the Broken Hill Proprietary.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“An uncle of mine, old Barney Maguire, of Black -Dog Creek, died a month ago, and left us boys and -girls five thousand apiece. <em>He</em> couldn’t read and -write, but he had ten thousand acres of good freehold -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>land, river flats, too, and a tidy herd of cattle—every -one knows the ‘B. M.’ brand. Some good horses, -too. Comes of saving and screwing. He lived by the -creek bank in an old bark hut with two rooms, never -married, and never gave one of us boys and girls the -value of a neck-ribbon or a saddle-strap while he was -alive. I’m sending a cheque for the scrip, so make -your secretary post them at once. As you’re a -director, you’ll have to sign your <em>real</em> name, so I’ll -know what it is. I never was sure of the other. -You’re born lucky, and I’m going to back you right -out. Perhaps I am, too, and might rise in life; who -knows? I’m going to work up my education on the -chance. What I learned at She-oak Flat’ll stick to me. -So we’ll see. And now for the postscript. I looked -it out—derived from <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">post scriptum</span></i> (<em>written after</em>). -Never thought what ‘P.S.’ meant before. Easy -enough when you know, isn’t it?</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, ‘let me see!’ says the blind man—oh! I -forgot; that’s vulgar—no more of that for Miss Sheila -Maguire—one of the Maguires of Tumut. ‘Fine gal, -aw. Hear she’s got money, don’t yer know?’ Ha! -ha! they won’t catch me that way. ‘I’ve travelled,’ -though it’s only on a bush track. False start; come -back to the post, all of you! The straight tip is -this—‘a dead cert.’ I had it from my cousin, Joe -Macintyre, her that was maid to Mrs. Bruce. Miss -Imogen <em>hadn’t influenza</em>—only a bit of a cold; but -she was real bad and low, all the same, after a certain -gentleman went away. No word, and <em>no letters came -back</em>. She’d sit and cry for hours. No interest in anything; -not a smile out of her for days. Then she got -ill, and no mistake; lower and lower—close up died. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>Doctors gave her up. Had to go to Sydney for -change. I saw her in the train at Wagga. My word! -I hardly knew her. She was that dog-poor and -miserable, pale as a ghost, I nearly cried. Now she’s -home again, and looks better, Joe says.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But if <em>some one</em> doesn’t turn up before the summer’s -well on, I shall know what to think him who -<em>was</em> a man and a gentleman, but that no one about -here will call either the one or the other again, least -of all,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“His friend and well-wisher,</div> - <div class='line in4'>“<span class='sc'>Sheila Maguire</span>.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“P.S. No. 2.—Strikes me this isn’t very different to -the Church Service, which begins with ‘Dearly beloved,’ -and ends with ‘amazement.’ What do you -think?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Blount couldn’t help smiling at certain sentences -in this frank and characteristic epistle. But -he looked grave enough at the concluding one. This -was the light then in which his conduct would appear -to the rural inhabitants of the township and district -of Bunjil.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Simple and chiefly unlettered they might be, but -shrewd and accurate to a wonderful degree in their -discernment of character.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was evident that the false cavalier who “loved, -and who rode away,” would have small consideration -shown him on the day when he might fall in with -half a dozen Upper Sturt men at annual show or race -meeting. There was a veiled threat in Sheila’s closing -sentence, and though, in his or any other defaulter’s -case, retributive justice might be stayed or wholly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>miscarry, yet it was not a pleasant thought that any -act of his should bear the interpretation of bad faith; -or that sentence of excommunication would, so to -speak, be pronounced against him from one end of -the river and the great Upper Sturt district to the -other. By gentle and simple alike there would be -unanimous agreement on that score. From the -“mountain men” of the Bogongs and Talbingo, to -the sun-burned plain-riders of the Darling, the -vigorous English of the Waste would be searched -for epithets of scorn and execration.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In the old Saxon days of the first Christian King, -the epithet of “niddering” (worthless), which men -committed suicide rather than endure, would have -been decreed. Even the rude miners of the West -would feel injured. From club to hotel, from the -cool green, sunless forests of the Alpine chain, where -the snow-fed rills tinkled and gurgled the long, bright -summer through, to the burning, gold-strewn deserts -of West Australia, he would be a marked man, -pointed at as the coward who won a girl’s heart and -“cleared out,” because he happened to “strike it -rich” in another colony.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Luckily for his state of mind and the condition of -his business prospects, Mr. Tregonwell happened to -turn up a day earlier than he was expected, so that -by sitting far into the night in council with that -experienced though fervid operator, things were put -into train; so that he and the resident directors -would, with the help of a power of attorney, arrange -all the advertising and scrip printing without further -aid from Valentine Blount.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There was not much need for pushing ahead the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>concerns of the Great Tasmanian Comstock, by which -name it was chiefly known and designated. The -whole island seemed to be in a ferment. The public -and the share market only needed restraining. It -was, of course, only in the hurry and crush of applications -for scrip, in resemblance to the South Sea—well, -we’ll say, Excitement of old historic days. The blocks -of silver ore, “native silver,” malachite, and other -specimens exhibited behind a huge plate glass window -in Davey Street, had driven the city wild. Crowds -collected around it, and a couple of stalwart policemen -were specially stationed there by the inspector -to prevent unseemly crushing and riot. In addition -well-armed night watchmen were provided at the -expense of the Comstock Company for the nocturnal -safety of the precious deposits. The <i>Pateena</i> was to -leave for her customary conflict with the rough waves -of Bass’s Straits at 12 a.m. So, after a hard night’s -work, the “popular director” took a parting smoke -and retired for what sleep was likely to visit him by -8 a.m., when the two partners were to breakfast -together. Mr. Blount had not a tranquil experience -of “tired nature’s sweet restorer.” “Little-River-Jack,” -the Sergeant, and Sheila Maguire pursued one -another through the Bunjil forest, accompanied by -the doomed mail-boy and Mr. Bruce. Sergeant -Dayrell had apparently come to life again, and was -standing pistol in hand with the same devilish sneer -on his lips, face to face with Kate Lawless and Ned. -Then the melancholy <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">cortège</span></i> moved across the scene, -with the police riding slowly, as they led the spare -horses upon which was tied the dead inspector and -the wounded trooper. All things seemed sad, funereal, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>and out of keeping with the enforced gaiety and -cordial hospitality which he had lately enjoyed. It -was a relief on awakening to find, all unrefreshed as -he was, that he had ample time in which to recruit, -by means of the shower bath and matutinal coffee, his -hardly-taxed mental and physical energies. However, -all was ready to respond to the breakfast bell, -specially ordered and arranged for, and when Mr. -Tregonwell, looking as if he had gone to bed early and -was only anxious about the <cite>Hobart Courier</cite>, entered -the breakfast room, all tokens of despondency -vanished from Mr. Blount’s countenance.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then only he realised that a creditably early start -was feasible—was actually in process of operation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Look here!” exclaimed that notoriously early -bird, producing two copies of the <cite>Courier</cite>, of which -he handed his friend one, “Read this as a preliminary, -and keep the paper in your pocket for board-ship -literature.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was, indeed, something to look at, as the supplement -displayed under gigantic headlines this -portentous announcement—</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c012'> - <div>“<span class='sc'>The Tasmanian Comstock and Associated</span></div> - <div><span class='sc'>Silver Mines Company, Limited.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“Acting under legal advice, the Directors have -decided to close the share list of this unparalleled -mine, of which the ore bodies at greater depths are -daily disclosing a state of <em>phenomenal richness</em>. All -applications for shares not sent in by the fifteenth day -of the present month will be returned. If over-applied -for—of which information will be furnished -by the incoming English mail—applicants will have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>shares allotted to them in the order of their -priority.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>This was to Mr. Blount sufficient information for -the present. The future of the mine was assured, -and he was merely nervously anxious that no malignant -interference with the normal course of events -should prevent his arriving in Melbourne on the following -day, in time to take his berth in the Sydney -Express that afternoon—which indeed he had telegraphed -for the day before. The partners had arrived -on board the <i>Pateena</i>, now puffing angrily, with full -steam up, a full half hour before the advertised time, -owing to Mr. Blount’s anxiety not to be late, and -were walking up and down the deck, Tregonwell in -vain attempting to get his fellow director to listen to -details, and Blount inwardly fuming at the delay and -cursing the Tasmanian lack of punctuality and -general slackness, when two shabbily-dressed men -stepped on board, one of whom walked up to the -friends, tapped Mr. Blount on the shoulder, and producing -a much crumpled piece of paper, said shortly, -“I arrest you in the Queen’s name, by virtue of -this Warrant!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>To describe Mr. Blount’s state of mind at this -moment is beyond the resources of the English language—perhaps -beyond those of any language. -Rage, mortification, surprise, despair almost, struggled -together in his mind, until his heart seemed bursting.</p> - -<p class='c008'>For a moment it seemed, as he threw off his captor -with violence, and faced the pair of myrmidons with -murder in his eye, as if he intended resistance in spite -of law, order, and all the forces of civilisation. But -<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>his companion, cooler in situations of absolute peril -as he was more impetuous in those of lighter responsibility, -restrained him forcibly.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Nonsense! keep calm, for God’s sake, and don’t -make a scene. Just allow me to look at the warrant,” -he said to the apprehending constable. “I wish to see -if it is in order. I am a magistrate of the territory. -I can answer for my friend, who, though naturally -disgusted, is not likely to resist the law.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The men were placated by this reasonable treatment -of the position.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The warrant seems in order,” said Tregonwell. -“The strange part of it is that it should not have -been cancelled all this time, as we know that no -proceedings were taken by the police at Bunjil in -consequence of the non-appearance of the prosecution -for the Crown. How this warrant got here and -has been forwarded for execution is the astonishing -part of the affair. Do you know,” he said, addressing -the peace officer, “how this warrant came into the -hands of the Department here?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Forwarded for execution here, sir,” said the man -civilly, “with a batch of New South Wales warrants, -chiefly for absconders, false pretences men, and others -who have a way of crossing the Straits. It oughtn’t -to have been allowed to run, as the case wasn’t gone -on with. The acting clerk of the bench there is a -senior constable, not quite up in his work; he -has made a mistake, and got it mixed up with -others. Most likely it’s a mistake, but all the -same, the gentleman must come with us for the -present.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All right, constable, we’ll go with you, and make -<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>no attempt to escape. Bail will be forthcoming—in -thousands, if necessary.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The steamer’s bell began to sound, and after a few -minutes, and a hurried colloquy with the captain, who -promised to see his unlucky passenger’s luggage delivered -at the Imperial Club, the friends descended -into the boat, and Tregonwell read out the warrant -in his hands. It was apparently in order:—</p> - -<p class='c007'>“To Senior Constable Evans and to all Police Officers -and Constables in the Colony of Victoria.—You -are hereby commanded to arrest Valentine Blount—known -as ‘Jack Blunt,’ at present supposed to be -working in the ‘Lady Julia’ claim, forty miles from -Bunjil, on the Wild Horse Creek, in company with -Phelim and Patrick O’Hara, also George Dixon -(known as Lanky), and to bring him before me or -any other Police Magistrate of Victoria. This warrant -is issued on the sworn information of Edward -Hamilton Bruce, J.P. of Marondah, on the Upper -Sturt, and for such action this shall be your warrant.</p> - -<div class='c013'>“(<em>Signed</em>) <span class='sc'>H. Bayley</span>, P.M.”</div> - -<p class='c007'>The sorely-tried lover felt much more inclined to -fling himself into the waters of the Derwent, and -there remain, than to occupy for one moment longer -this ignominious position at the hands of the myrmidons -of the law. However, the next step, of course, -was to interview the police magistrate of Hobart at -his Court House, and after having explained the -circumstances, to apply for bail, so that the period of -detention might be shortened as much as possible. -This process of alleviation was effected without unnecessary -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>delay, the magistrate being a reasonable, -experienced person, and as such inclined to sympathise -with the victim of malign fate, obviously not of -the class with which he had been for years judicially -occupied.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The officer briefly stated the case, produced the -warrant, and delivered up his prisoner, who was -permitted to take a chair. Mr. Parker, P.M., scanned -the warrant with keen and careful eye before committing -himself to an opinion. After which he -bestowed a searching glance upon Mr. Blount, and -thus delivered himself:</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It appears,” he said, “that this warrant was issued, -with several others, upon the sworn information of -Edward Hamilton Bruce, J.P., of Marondah, Upper -Sturt, who had reason to believe that the person -named—viz., Valentine Blount—generally known as -‘Jack Blunt,’ was concerned with Phelim O’Hara, -Patrick O’Hara, George Dixon (otherwise Lanky), -and John Carter, known as ‘Little-River-Jack,’ in -stealing and disposing of certain fat cattle branded -E.H.B., the property of the said Edward Hamilton -Bruce. It is now the 20th of November,” said the -worthy P.M., “and I note that this warrant was -signed on the 10th of September last. By a curious -coincidence I have this morning received a communication -from the Department of Justice in Victoria -informing me that separate warrants were issued for -the persons named in the information, but that, owing -to deficiency of proof and difficulty of identification -of the stock suspected to have been killed or otherwise -disposed of, the Crown Solicitor has ordered a -<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nolle Prosequi</span></i> to be entered. ‘In accordance with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>which decision, notices of such action were signed by -the bench of magistrates at Bunjil, Victoria, and the -warrants, in the names of Phelim O’Hara, Patrick -O’Hara, George Dixon (<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">alias</span></i> Lanky), and John -Carter (<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">alias</span></i> Little-River-Jack), were cancelled. But -through inadvertence, the warrant in the name of -Valentine Blount (otherwise Jack Blunt) had been -mislaid, and, with other documents, forwarded to -James Parker, Esq., P.M., Hobart. He is requested -to return the said warrant to the Department of -Justice, and if the said warrant has been by misadventure -executed, to release at once the said -Valentine Blount, known as “Jack Blunt.”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘I remain, sir,</div> - <div class='line in2'>“‘Your obedient servant,</div> - <div class='line in4'>“‘<span class='sc'>George B. Harrison</span>,</div> - <div class='line'>“‘<i>Under Secretary of Justice</i>.’</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“That being the case, I have the pleasure to congratulate -you, sir, on your escape from a very unpleasant -position, and to apologise on behalf of the -Department with which I am connected, for the -unfortunate mistake, as well as for all consequences -to which it may have led in your case. Sergeant, let -the accused be discharged.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Thus, after undergoing tortures, as to which the -same time spent on a rack of the period—say in the -time of His Most Christian Majesty, Philip of Spain—would -have been a trifling inconvenience, was our -unlucky <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">détenu</span></i> restored to liberty.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After bowing to the genial P.M., who had seen so -many discomfitures, disasters, and disorders, that -nothing was likely to cause him surprise or disturb his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>serenity, the friends returned to their club to lunch, -as well as to make such arrangements for the morrow -as might suffice for clearing out to Melbourne with -the least possible delay and public disturbance. -Fortunately, another steamer on a different line, just -arrived from Callao and the Islands, was due for an -early start in the morning. Mr. Blount resolved, after -dining at the club, to spend the night on board of her -so as to have no bother about getting ready before -daylight, at which time the skipper promised departure. -Frampton Tregonwell, the friend in need, -would bear him company and help to keep up his -spirits so rudely dashed until the time arrived for the -partial oblivion of bed, which, indeed, it was long -before he found.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Next morning, however, the excitement of a gale -took him out of his self-consciousness for a few hours, -and the unfamiliar companionship of the passengers -aided the cure. He was only partially recovered from -a state of shock and annoyance, but could not help -being attracted by the men and women; they were of -rare and striking types, such as were around him, in -all directions.</p> - -<p class='c008'>They were certainly cosmopolitan—grizzled island -traders, sea-captains, and mates out of employment -at present. Adventurers of every kind, sort, and -degree, with their wives and families of all shades of -colour and complexion. Speaking all languages indifferently -ill, Spanish and Portuguese, French, -German and Italian, and, of course, English more or -less undefiled. The men were fine specimens physically, -bold, frank, hardy-looking, such as might be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>expected to reply with knife and revolver to adverse -argument. Handsome dark women and girls, with -flashing eyes and unrivalled teeth, who seemed perfectly -at home, and regarded the wildest weather with -curiosity rather than with apprehension. Sydney -seemed familiar to many as their port of arrival and -departure, which, having reached, they were more -free to find passage to the ends of the earth.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Such a happy-go-lucky unconventional crowd of -passengers, it had rarely been Mr. Blount’s lot to -encounter, far-travelled though he was. The captain, -mates and ship’s crew were, in their way, equally -removed from ordinary personages. One could -imagine the captain—a spare, saturnine American—a -pirate, suddenly converted by a missionary bishop—bearing -his captives of the lower hold, previously -doomed to torture and spoliation, to a free port, there -to be released, unharmed, with all their goods and -chattels scrupulously returned. Here was an opportunity -altogether unparalleled, presented to “an -observer of human nature.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>But it was like many other gifts of the gods, presented -to the dealer in the souls and bodies of his -fellow creatures (intellectually regarded), at the -precise time and place, when, from circumstances, he -could make no use of the situation. A banquet of -the gods, and not the ghost of an appetite wherewith -to savour it!</p> - -<p class='c008'>In his present mood, had Helen of Troy, accompanied -by Paris and Achilles, with Briseis as -“lady help,” been one of the strangely assorted -crowd (there <em>were</em> half a dozen modern Greeks on -board, miners returning from an inspection of an -<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>alleged “mountain of tin”)—even then he would -not have listened with interest to their respectful -cross-examination of the “goddess moulded” as to -her adventures since the fall of Troy, or her well-grounded -apprehension of her probable fate under -adverse feminine rule.</p> - -<p class='c008'>All romance, sympathy, curiosity even were dead -within him for the present. Fate had counter-checked -him too often. He expected nothing, hoped nothing, -but feared everything—until his arrival at the homestead -on the Upper Sturt, when he could see Imogen, -pale, perhaps, and more fragile than when last she -turned her impatient horse’s head homeward—but -infinitely lovely and dearer than all, as having proved -her loyalty to him, from their first meeting by the -waters of the Great River, in despite of doubt, -calumny, and unjust accusation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>All these were gone and disposed of; now was the -season of faith and fruition—the reward of her love, -and truth—of his constancy. Here his complacent -feeling of perhaps scarcely justified self-laudation -faltered somewhat. Yes! he <em>had</em> been true—he <em>had</em> -been faithful—any other feeling was merely involuntary -deflection from his ideal, and he was now -going to claim his prize!</p> - -<p class='c008'>The wind stilled. The sea went down. The stars -came out. The soft air of the Great South Land, -hidden away from the restless sea-rover for centuries -untold, until the keel of the great English captain -floated into the peerless haven, enveloped the wave-worn -bark, as with a mantle of peace and forgiveness; -their voyage was practically, virtually, at an end. -Mr. Blount remained on deck smoking with the more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>hardened of the foreign passengers, who apparently -needed not sleep at all, until the midnight hour; then -wearily sought his cabin. Cabin indeed, he had none, -for, determined to get away at all hazards, he had -expressed his total indifference to such a luxury, and -his willingness to sleep under the cabin table, if -necessary, only provided that he got a passage. The -captain said if that were so he could come, taking -his chance of a bed or sofa. However, he had been -to sea before. A judicious <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">douceur</span></i> to the head -steward procured him, after a certain hour, one of -the saloon lounges, and the privilege of dressing in -that important functionary’s cabin. Awake with the -dawn, he found himself just in time to witness the -safe passage of the <i>Donna Inez</i> through the tumultuous -harbour entrance of the “Rip,” and after a decent -interval, to arrive, undisturbed by anxiety about -luggage, at the ever open door of the Imperial Club.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Here, with his property around him—apparently -safe and uninjured—he began to find himself an independent -traveller of means and position again. -He had been relieved of the horrible uncertainty of -delay—the doubt and fear connected with a trial for -a criminal offence, and all the other disagreeables, if -not dangers, of a discreditable position. His railway -ticket had already been taken for Waronga, whence -the coach on the ensuing morning, after a daylight -breakfast, would take him on to Marondah.</p> - -<p class='c008'>All went well. He saw again the rippling river, -the friendly face of Mrs. Bruce—he had always delighted -in that dear woman—so refined, so ladylike, -and yet practical and steadfast. The ideal wife and -mother—remote from the metropolis, and the frivolous -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>slaves of fashion—yet how infinitely superior to them -all. He saw the fair Imogen coming to meet him, -shyly repressing her joy and gratitude for the turn -which their fortunes had taken, but only refraining on -account of the spectators from throwing herself into -his arms. This she confessed afterwards, after a -decent interval of explanation, and full confessions -on both sides. Neither of them would own to have -been the most overjoyed at the meeting, delayed as it -had been by an apparent conspiracy of all the powers -of darkness.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Bruce had not as yet returned from the -“Ultima Thule” of Western Queensland, where he -had a share in an immense cattle station. His stay -had been protracted and unsatisfactory. A dry -season had set in—had followed several rainless years, -in fact—nothing could exceed the frightful position of -the squatters in that district.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The destruction of stock was awful, unparalleled. -Never since the first white man’s foot had touched -Australia’s shore, had there been such loss, and -probable ruin (he wrote to his wife).</p> - -<p class='c008'>He should be glad to get back to Marondah, to -see some decent grass again, and hear the river -rippling through the calm still night, and the river-oaks -murmuring to the stars. <em>That</em> was something like a -country. He would take the first chance to sell out -of Mount Trelawney, and never go out of Victoria for -an investment again.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So Edward Bruce had written in a peaceable -mood. He supposed a general amnesty must be -declared, and all be forgiven and forgotten. By the -way, he met Jack Carter (Little-River-Jack) at a place -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>not a hundred miles from Roma (he wrote). “He was -in a position to do me a service at a critical juncture, -and did it heartily and effectively. So all scores are -cleared between him and me. You mustn’t suppose, -however, that I am in danger of my life, or that -bushranging, cattle-stealing, and an occasional interchange -of revolver shots, is part of the order of the -day. What I mention is exceptional, and I don’t -wish it to go further for several reasons.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The Manager, Mackenzie, and I were riding along -rather late one evening, and a good twelve or fifteen -miles from home. The weather (of course) was fine, -but the hour was late, and the sun, which had been -glaring at us all day, only just about to set.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘By George! that’s a big mob of horses,’ said Mac., -‘going fast too. Coming from the back of Goornong -and heading for Burnt Creek. Six men and a black -boy. Depend upon it, there’s something “cronk.” -They might see us yet. Yes, they do! They’ve -halted. Left two men and the boy with the mob, and -the rest, four men, are coming across the plains to us.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Do you know who they are?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I can pretty well guess,’ he said. ‘They’re a -part of that crowd that we broke up last year, a very -dangerous lot! The big man with the beard is Joe -Bradfield, the best bushman in all Queensland, and -perhaps Australia, to boot. The chap alongside him -is “Jerry the Nut.” <em>He’s</em> a double-dyed scoundrel, -if you like, twice tried for murder, and ought to have -been hanged years ago, if he’d got his rights. -Supposed to have shot “Jack the Cook,” who -quarrelled with him, and started in for Springsure to -give the lot away, but never got there. Found dead -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>in the Oakey Creek with two bullets in him. Jerry -was proved to have overtaken him on the road; was the -last man seen with him alive. Put on his trial—a -strong case against him, but not sufficient evidence. -Here they come. We’ve seen them in possession of -stolen horses. I expect they’ve duffed them from -that Bank station, that was taken over last week. -They may think it safer to “rub us out.” They’re -villains enough for anything. You’re armed, and my -“navy, No. 1” is pretty sure at close quarters. Cut -off by —! we may have to ride for it too—’ As he -spoke, three men emerged from a clump of brigalow at -an angle from the line at which the ‘horse thieves’ -were riding. They also made towards us, and riding -at speed, seemed as if they desired to reach us at -about the same time as the others. Such, it appeared, -would be the case.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The four men that had left the mob of horses, -rode at the station overseer and me as if they would -ride over us. Then pulled up with the stock-horses’ -sudden halt, not brought up on their -haunches, like those of the gaucho of Chile or the -cowboy of the Western States, by the merciless -wrenching curb, but with the half pull of the plain -snaffle, the only bit the bushman knows, when with -loose rein, and lowered head, the Australian camp -horse drives his fore-feet into the ground, and stops -dead as if nailed to the earth.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘What the h—l are you two doing here?’ shouted -the tall man, a Hercules in height and breadth of -shoulder, yet sitting his horse with the ease and -closeness of early boyhood, though his beard and -coal-black hair were already streaked with grey. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>Tracking us down? My God! it’s the worst lay -you was ever on. Isn’t a man to ride across a plain -in the blasted squatters’ country without he has a -pass from a magistrate? That’s what it’s coming to. -Well, you’re on the wrong lay this trip. Come along -back with us, or we’ll make yer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘And look dashed quick about it, or ye’ll not -come back at all. Bring up the darbies, Joe! We’ll -see how the bloomin’ swells like ’em.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“As the last speaker uttered this threat, he and the -other men raised their revolvers.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I’ll see you d—d first,’ I replied (excuse bad -language). ‘We’re from Trelawney this morning, and -on our lawful business.’ Here I drew my revolver.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The encounter looked doubtful, when the three new -arrivals rode up, and, like the other bushmen, stopped -dead, with their horses side by side.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘No, yer don’t!’ said one of the new arrivals, a -man as tall and massive as the first ‘robber’ (for -such he seemed). ‘I’m not goen’ to stand by and -see Mr. Bruce, of Marondah, double-banked by you -Queensland duffers while I’m round. There’s been -trouble between him and our crowd; but he’s a man -and a gentleman, and I’m here to stand by him to -the bitter end. It’s five go four now, so fire away, -and be d—d to you!’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Who the devil are you?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I’m Phelim O’Hara, and this is Little-River-Jack, -and my brother Pat. We’ve come up, like the Proosians -at Waterloo, rather late in the day; but “better late -than never.” You’re Joe Bradfield, that we’ve heard of, -and Jerry the Nut that murdered his mate, I suppose. -So you’d better go back to the French, and let the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>allies go their own way. No one’s goen’ to give you -away, if your own foolishness doesn’t. We’re on our -own ground, so hear reason and clear out. I heard a -big lot of police, and Superintendent Gray, of Albany, -was on yer track.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘When did you hear that?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘No later than yesterday. And you’re ridin’ -straight into their bloomin’ arms, if yer don’t get -back the way yer kem’ in. Take a fool’s advice, and -get into the ranges again. This country’s too open -for your crowd, and you’ll have to do the gully-raker’s -racket for a month or two, till the “derry’s” -toned down a bit.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“This apparently reasonable advice seemed to have -weight with the troop of highly irregular horse, as, -after a short colloquy, they rode back to their companions -in charge of the horses, and heading them -towards the distant ranges, disappeared shortly from -sight.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘O’Hara!’ said I, ‘whatever you and your mates -may have done in the past—at any rate, as far as I -am concerned—is now past and gone. I freely forgive -anything that there may have been to forgive, in -consequence of your manly conduct to-day. If you -will come back with me to the head station, I dare -say Mr. Mackenzie can find you something to do in -this bad season. Unfortunately, we have only too -many vacancies for bushmen like yourselves and -Jack Carter.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘We’ll take your word for it, Mr. Bruce,’ said -Little-River-Jack; ‘and, if we come to terms, there’ll be -no station on the Upper Sturt that’ll lose fewer stock—barrin’ -from the season—while we’re to the fore.’</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>“‘All right,’ said Mackenzie, ‘you’re just the chaps -we want this awful season; and, now you’re going -straight, each of you will be worth half a dozen -ordinary men.’”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The day was still warm, not much change from the -110° in the shade which the sunset-hour had registered, -but a gradual coolness commenced to o’erspread -the heated landscape. “The stars rush out, -at one strike comes the dark,” making an appearance -of coolness, to which the abnormal dryness of the air -in mid-Australia lends a perceptible relief. Confident -of a welcome, and the hospitable reception of a head-station—always -superior in comfort to the more -casual arrangements of the out-stations—the five -horsemen rode steadily forward in peace and amity; -Mr. Mackenzie, as knowing every foot of the run, -taking the lead with the two O’Haras, while Mr. -Bruce and Little-River-Jack followed quietly in -the rear.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER IX</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“‘<span class='sc'>I’d</span> like to tell you, sir,’ said Carter, ‘how we first -got acquainted, me and Mr. Blount, to put him right -with you, because I heard a whisper that you thought -he must be in with us, in the “cross” butchering line.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I don’t deny,’ I answered, ‘that I thought it very -suspicious that a man like him should be living with -you fellows, and yet have no idea that dishonest work -was going on?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘All right, Mr. Bruce, don’t spare us. It <em>was</em> dishonest, -there’s no two ways about it, and we chaps -ought to be ashamed of ourselves, as are well able to -get a living straight and square, and under fear of no -man. Now we’ve had a fright and been let off you’ll -never hear another word against us. But I wanted to -have a word about Mr. Blount. If he had been -copped along with us, it would have been a cruel -shame, a regular murder, and him as innocent as the -child unborn. His horse was knocked up, or next -door to it, when I came across him a few miles from -the “Lady Julia”; I’d a few cattle with me, and -asked him to help me drive them. He stayed at our -place that night. The man I was selling them to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>sent for them before daylight, and all he could hear -was them being let out of the yard.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘He was a dividing mate after that, though?’ said -I, knowing that such mining agreements comprehend -all knowledge in heaven and earth, and under the -sea.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Carter answered my unspoken thought when he -said, ‘He bought Tumberumba Dick’s share, him as -went to Coolgardie, and if he knew mullock from -wash dirt, then, it’s as much as he did. As for cattle, -he hardly knew a cow from a steer. Then he lost -his moke and went down the river to get word of -him.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Yes!’ I said. ‘I met him then; he came on me -just as I was shooting a small mob of wild horses. -I had been watching for them for months. They -seldom came so far in; but I dropped the stallion -first shot, a noted grey, said to be thoroughbred; the -mares and foals wouldn’t leave him, so I got them all, -one by one.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Mr. Blount was astonished, I suppose? Seems a -pity, too, they were a well-bred lot. I’ve had many -a gallop after the same lot, thinkin’ to yard ’em, but -they always got away. Anyhow, they’re no blessed -good, if you do yard ’em; mostly sulk and always -clear the first chance. His cob, it seems, joined your -horses, and was run in to the paddock. So you put -him up for the night and sent him home on his own -horse. Came part of the way with him, you and the -ladies, and Black Paddy. Nigh hand to the “Lady -Julia” you spotted your “E. H. B.” bullock with a -fresh brand on. And he never said nothen’. Next -day Black Paddy ran our tracks to the claim and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>stockyard, found where the last bullocks had been -driven to the Back Creek slaughter yards. That was -as plain as A B C, and we had to clear. Phelim -waited on to get his horse back that he’d lent him, -and start after Pat and Lanky, who were well on their -way to Omeo.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘All quite correct,’ I said; ‘but why didn’t he act -straightforwardly and tell me like a man that he had -been working in your claim?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Because he didn’t want to give us away, and if he -said what he knew, but <em>didn’t understand</em>, the police -would have been up next day and collared the lot of -us before we had a chance to cut it.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘But why was he so tender about your party?’ I -said. ‘You had deceived him, and he might naturally -have felt angry at being let in for aiding and -abetting cattle stealers, and all the more anxious to -see you punished.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘That’s all right, Mr. Bruce; but you see there was -another reason why he stood by us, though he didn’t -wait an hour after he knew we were on the cross; -wouldn’t take his share of the gold neither, which he’d -worked as hard for as any of us.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘What <em>was</em> the other reason?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Well, sir,’ rather shamefacedly, ‘he thought I’d -<em>saved his life</em>, as it were.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Saved his life? How could that be?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘It was this way, sir.’ As he spoke, he looked -quite sad and confused. ‘You know that Razor -Back ridge on the short track to Bunjil?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Yes! I was over it once, and a brute of a track -it was. That was where Paddy Farrell was killed.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘The same; well, when we was coming along it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>from Bunjil to the claim, that cob of his—a flat-country -horse—got frightened, and had half a mind -to back over the edge. I was thinkin’ of somethin’ -else; when I looked back I saw Mr. Blount was confused-like, -he didn’t know how to stop him. I -slipped off, and held the cob, while he did the same, -and started old Keewah along the track, with the -reins tied to the stirrup-iron. My old moke trotted -on, and the cob after him, till they came to the trap-yard, -where we found them when we came up, half -an hour after. There wasn’t much in it. Any man -who’d lived in rangey country couldn’t have helped -doin’ it; but he chose to believe I’d saved his life. -So it was chiefly that that made him not let on to you -about where he’d lived. Nothing might have come -of it; but it was a close shave, and no mistake.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I’m very glad to hear the explanation, Carter. I -don’t see how he could have acted differently, as a -man or gentleman. I shall write and tell him so. -And now, a word with you; which you can pass on -to your mates. Make no mistake, you’ve got a fresh -start in life! You three fellows are young. Anything -there is against you, as far as I know, is over -and done with. These warrants are just waste paper. -But be careful for the future. If you stick to the -Nundooroo station till the drought’s over, you’re -made men. I’ll let the Inspector-General of Police -know how you behaved.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘All right, sir; we’re on. We won’t go back on -you,’ was his reply.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘You may expect to see me at Marondah, within -the month, though travelling through a desert, -as this country is virtually now, is very slow and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>unsatisfactory. I must pick up a riding camel, a -“heirie,” such as I’ve seen in the East, warranted to -keep going for twenty-four hours on end, without -water or food. However, I suppose rain will come -some time or other.’”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Thus fully exonerated, it may be believed that -Blount made the best use of his time at Marondah, -where he had the field all to himself with the advantage -of the most considerate of chaperons, in -the person of Mrs. Bruce, who had always been, as -she told him, his staunch supporter, even in the dark -days, when her husband forbade his name to be -mentioned, and when from adverse circumstances no -letters had arrived to clear his character.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“<em>I</em> never doubted you for a moment,” murmured -Imogen, “but it must be confessed, it was hard work -holding to my trust in you, when so many rumours -were flying through the country. I never could -make out why you joined such people at all, or what -you were to gain by it. If you wished to know what -a miner’s life was like, there are plenty of gentlemen -glad enough to go into any venture of the sort, with -the aid of a little capital—men such as you have -described at the ‘Comstock’ or at Zeehan.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But how was I to find them?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Just the same way in which you would have done -in England, through introductions to men of mark -out here. They would have advised you for your -good. And there would have been no risk of your -being compromised by any action of theirs.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No doubt it was indiscreet of me, but I wanted -to see for myself, and form my own opinion by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>personal experience of a society so different from -any I had known before.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That is where you conceited Englishmen”—here -she held up a warning finger—“make a mistake, -indeed tons of mistakes. In vain we tell you that -there is no special difference here between the classes -of society, or the laws which rule them, and those of -your own beloved country, which we are proud to -resemble.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But are they not different?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not radically, by any means. Any departure -from English manners and customs is chiefly superficial. -Your squire, or lord of the manor, says -‘Mornin’, Jones! crops doin’ so-so, too dry for the roots,’ -and so on. ‘Nice four year old of yours. Looks -as if he’d grow into a hunter.’ But there’s no <em>real</em> -equality, nor can there be. Jones doesn’t expect it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mr. Bruce, I suppose, has much the same feeling -for the farmers here, and they meet on much the -same terms. Except when the suspicion of ‘duffing’ -comes in, eh? then—then—relations are strained, -indeed, as between the same classes, if poaching was -discovered, and brought home to the guilty ones.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>They had these, with many other, talks and -disquisitions, such as are interesting to lovers, and -lovers only, in the long delicious evenings and -unquestioned idlesse which are the prerogatives of -the halcyon days which follow a declared engagement, -and before the completed drama of marriage.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The soft, mild months of the southern spring were -now heralding the less romantic season of the -Australian summer. The sun god was daily strengthening -<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>his power, without as yet the fierce noonday -glare or burning heat. Chiefly precious to them -were the moonlight walks by the river side when the -shadows of the great willows which fringed the river -bank fell over the hurrying tide, when star sheen or -moonrays glinted through the close foliage or sparkled -diamond bright on the rippling bars. There was a -winding path a few feet from the bank, accurately -marked by the cattle and horses, which roved -unchecked through the great meadows.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Here the lovers were at liberty to indulge in -fullest confidences. He told her that he had loved -her from the very first moment that his eyes fell -upon her, when, not knowing that any other than -Mrs. Bruce was in the house he had been almost -unconventional in the surprise of the meeting and -his instant admiration. “That moment sealed our -destiny,” he said, “or rather, would have left me a -lifelong regret had I never set eyes on you again. -And what was your feeling, Imogen?” looking -suddenly into her eyes, which, lit up by a fairy -moonray, seemed to his eager gaze to glow with -unearthly radiance. So, in old days did the fabled -Oread enthrall the heart of the doomed shepherd or -woodsman, luring him to follow into her enchanted -bower, which he was fated never again to discover, -wasting life wandering through the forest aisles, -wearing out health, youth and passion, in the ever-fleeting, -illusory pursuit.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think,” she answered softly, as her eyes fell -before his ardent gaze, “that I must have been -similarly affected, why, I cannot tell, but the fact -remains that if you had never returned—and we had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>not much time for love-making, had we, between that -day and your return to the ‘Lady Julia’ claim, and -the fascinating society of Mr. Little-River-Jack?—I -should have ‘fallen into a sadness, then into a fast, -thence into a weakness,’ and so on. As it was, I was -very melancholy and low for a while, and between -that and influenza, very nearly ‘went out,’ as my -maid, Josephine Macintyre, phrased it. Then, when -I was coming round, and reaching the stage of ‘the -common air, the sea, the skies, to “her” are opening -Paradise,’ and would have written to you, we heard -that you had become a millionaire or a ‘silver king’ -in Tasmania. It was foolish, I know, but I thought it -might look as if I wanted to recall you because of -your wealth—a vulgar idea, but still one that works -for good or evil in this silly life of ours. But now, -all will be forgiven, ‘if this should meet the eye,’ &c., -as the advertisements say. You will forgive me, and -I will forgive you, and there will never be any more -doubts or despair, will there?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>That Mr. Blount made a short but impressive -reply to this query may be taken for granted. The -river marge, the sighing, trailing willows, the rippling -murmuring stream, the friendly moon, all these were -conditions eminently favourable to “love’s young -dream.” Nor did they fail in this instance to ratify -the solemn, irrevocable vow, often lightly, rashly, -falsely sworn, but in this instance repeated with all -the passion of ardent manhood, responded to with -the heart’s best and truest affection, the sacred, -intensely glowing flame of the maiden’s love, imperishable, -immortal.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You told me, the last time we met,” she whispered, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>“that some day I should know why you came here -to lead an aimless, wandering life. I always thought -there was some mystery about it. Will you tell me -now? It is lovely and mild, there could not be a better -time. How clearly you can hear the ripple in the -shallows. Was there a woman in it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Of course there was, but mind, it all happened -seven years ago. So if what I say may be used -against me on my trial, I shall be dumb.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve copied out depositions now and then, for -Edward,” replied the girl, archly. “Having heard the -evidence, do you wish to say anything? comes next. So -I’ll promise not to take advantage of your voluntary -confession, if you make a clean breast of it, once for -all. I have no fear of the dear, dead women, whoever -they were.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You need not,” said Blount, as he drew her more -closely to him, “not if Helen of Troy were of the -company.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>On their return to the verandah, where they found -Mrs. Bruce still occupied with the needlework, which -took up (so she said), fortunately, so much of her time, -Imogen pleaded fatigue and retired, leaving the field -free to her sister and the guest, who thereupon commenced -a long, and apparently serious conversation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount spoke more unreservedly of his private -affairs than he had hitherto thought it expedient to -do. Independently of his share in the Great Comstock -Company, for which he had already been -offered a hundred thousand pounds—he had a handsome -allowance from his father—as also, thinking it -might be needed, a letter of credit upon the Imperial -Bank for five thousand pounds.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>“It will always be a puzzle to me and Imogen,” -said Mrs. Bruce, “how, with all that money at your -disposal, you should ever have run the risks you did -in this gipsy business, with the people we found you -with, or would have done, if you had remained a few -days longer with them. You didn’t want to learn -their language, like Borrow—what other reason <em>could</em> -there be?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My dear Mrs. Bruce,” he replied, “you have been -so good, considerate, and friendly to me, that I must -make a clean breast of it. I have already told -Imogen all there is to tell of a by no means uncommon -event in a man’s life, when one of your adorable, -yet fatal sex is mixed up with it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I see, I understand, the ‘eternal feminine’; we -have not many romances of the kind in these quiet -hills, but of course they are not wholly unknown, -even in our sequestered lives. You are going to tell -me of your tragedy.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It was not far removed from the ordinary run of -such adventures, though there might easily have been -a catastrophe. I was young, I said it was seven years -ago, since which I have industriously wasted life’s best -gifts, in trying to forget her. Beautiful, yes, as a dream -maiden! a recognised queen of society, flattered, -worshipped, wherever her fairy footsteps trod; but -vain, ambitious and false as the Lorelei, or the mermaiden, -that lures the fated victim. More than one -man had thrown life, character, or fortune at her feet, -unavailingly. I had heard this, but with the reckless -confidence of youth, I heeded not. I met her at the -quiet country house of a relative; men being scarce, -she condescended to play for so poor a stake as the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>heart of a younger son, an undistinguished lover’s -existence, and she won!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How could it be otherwise? She turned the full -battery of her charms upon the undefended fort. We -rode together, we fished the trout stream, more -dangerous still. We read in the old library, morning -after morning, and here my not unmarked university -career served me well, as I thought. I had been -reading aloud from a novel of the hour, when, looking -up suddenly I saw a light in her eyes, which gave me -hope, more than hope. I took her hand, I poured -out protestations, entreaties, vows of eternal love; -whatever man has distilled from the inward fires of -soul and sense, under the alembic of love at white -heat, I found words for and poured into her not -unwilling ear.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“She was visibly agitated. Her cold nature, serenely -lovely as she always was, seemed to kindle into flame -under the fire of my impetuous avowal. I gained her -other hand, I threw myself on my knees before her, -and drew her down to the level of my face. I clasped -her yielding form, and kissed her lips with soul-consuming -ardour. To my surprise, she made no -resistance, her colour came and went, she might have -been the veriest country milkmaid, surprised into -consent by her rustic lover’s eagerness. ‘You are mine, -say you are mine for ever!’ I whispered into her -shell-like ear as her loosened hair fell over her cheek.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Yours,’ she said in a low intense murmur, ‘now -and for ever.’ Then gently, disengaging herself from -my arms, ‘This is a foolish business. I confess to -being rather unprepared, but I suppose we must -consider it binding?’</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>“‘Binding,’ said I, shocked at the alteration of her -tone and manner. ‘To the end of the world, and -afterwards, in life, in death, my heart is yours unalterably—to -wear in true love’s circlet or to break -and cast beneath your feet.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Poor Val!’ said she, smoothing my hair with -her dainty jewelled fingers, ‘yet women have played -false before now to their promises, as fondly made, -and men’s hearts have not been broken. They have -lived to smile, to wed, to enjoy life much as usual—or -old tales are untrue.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Do not jest,’ said I, ‘a man’s life—a woman’s -heart, are treasures too precious to win—too perilous -to lose; say you are not in earnest?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Perhaps not,’ she said, lightly. ‘Yes! you may -have your good-night kiss,’ and we parted. You -would not think it was for ever.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The house-party was not large at Kingswood, but -it was as much disturbed and excited when our -engagement was given out, as if it had been a much -more exalted gathering.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My devotion had not been unmarked, but the -betting had been against me. I was too young, too -undistinguished—what had I done? not even in the -army—in literature, beyond a few tentative minor -successes, I was unknown. How had I presumed -to propose to—indeed to win this belle of the last -two seasons—the admitted star of the most aristocratic, -exclusive, socially distinguished set? I was -fairly good-looking—so much was admitted—my -family was unimpeachable, old and honoured, but -where is the money to come from to uphold the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>dignity and pay the bills of a queen of beauty and -fashion such as Adeline Montresor?</p> - -<p class='c008'>“She had not come down from her room next -morning when we men adjourned to the grounds for -a smoke, and the usual after breakfast stroll.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I was in the stable examining a strain which had -lamed my hunter a few days since, and which had -accounted for my presence in the library on the -eventful afternoon, when my attention was attracted -by an observation made by one man to another who -held out a morning paper for his friend to see.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I thought there was something “by ordinar,” as -our Scotch gardener says.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Death of Sir Reginald Lutterworth, all his money -and the lovely place left to his nephew, Valentine -Blount, the younger son of Lord Fontenaye.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘By Jove!’ said his friend. ‘What a throw in! -This accounts for the unaccountable, to put it mildly. -The fair Adeline sees something beyond the personal -merits of our enthusiastic young friend.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘A house in town—a place in the country, etc., -presented at Court, Marlborough House in the future—what -girl of the period could say no to such a -present—with a still more gorgeous perspective?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Certainly not Miss Montresor, nor any of her -set. But what about Colonel Delamere?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘He’ll receive a neat, carefully worded note, which -being interpreted, needs only one word of translation, -“farewell.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Perhaps to soften the blow, as the phrase runs, something -like “my people so badly off, pressure brought -to bear—feelings unchanged—bow to Fate, etc.”’</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>“‘Wonder if she saw it?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘My man says it’s in all the evening papers, but -we were so hard at work at bridge, that no one -thought of looking at them. She couldn’t have -seen it, unless the maid took it up to her room -when she went to dress for dinner. Ha! didn’t think -of that.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“On inquiry, I found that my enslaver and her -maid had left for London by the early train. A -note had been left for me, containing only a few -words. ‘Dearest, I feel I <em>must</em> go home. See you -at Oldacres. Au revoir.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I felt disappointed. Still I had no rational -ground for distrust. It was most natural that a girl -under such circumstances should wish to go home -to her mother, and relieve her heart, when such an -important step had been decided upon. I sent a -telegram in answer, and arranged to leave for London, -having to make certain arrangements in accordance -with what would doubtless be my altered position.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We wrote to one another daily. The letters, -though not particularly ardent on her side, were -affectionate and apparently sincere. A few days -passed in making necessary financial arrangements, in -receiving congratulations, freely tendered by friends -and acquaintances.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“By my own family, I was regarded as a Spanish -galleon, laden with treasure, which had come to -redeem the faded glories of the estate, and to aid the -wearer of a title, unsupported by an adequate income. -Life was roseate, radiant with dazzling splendour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What cared I for the wealth? Was I not the proud -possessor of the heart of the loveliest girl in England? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>I was invited to her father’s place in the Midlands, -for the forthcoming hunting season.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The kindest, semi-maternal letter informed me -that ‘darling Adeline’ had overtaxed her nervous -system, and not been quite herself for the last few -days. I could understand <em>why</em>. However, she was -looking her best once more, and all impatience to -greet me at Oldacres, next week, when some of their -more intimate neighbours would be able to pay their -respects. I made rather a wry face at the extra -week’s delay, thus imposed upon me, but suppressed -any impatience as much as was possible, while thinking -of the rapturous delight awaiting me, at the end -of the probation. On the morning of the day on -which I was to leave London, I received another of -the extra-legal, important-looking documents, with -which I had been so familiar lately. I was on -the point of throwing it into the drawer of my writing -table to await my return when I should be able -to settle all formal matters in one morning’s work. -Something, however, urged me to open the bothering -thing, and have done with it, so as not to have it -hanging over me when I was impatient of business -of any sort or kind.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I read over the first page twice before I fully -grasped its purport.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“‘<span class='sc'>My Dear Sir</span>,—We regret deeply the unpleasant -nature of the communication which we are reluctantly -compelled to make. We cannot sufficiently express -our surprise at the apparent carelessness of Messrs. -Steadman and Delve, who have been your uncle’s -trusted lawyers and agents for fifty years, and in point -<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>of fact acted in that capacity for your grandfather, the -late Lord Fontenaye, and we apologise, with sincere -regrets, for not having verified with greater care the -precise nature of Sir Reginald’s last will and -testament.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘It now appears that the testator made <em>another will</em> -a year after the one by which you were to benefit so -largely. That other will has been found in a secret -drawer, and is now in the possession of Messrs. Steadman -and Delve. By it <em>all former wills</em> are revoked, -and there is a total omission of your name as a beneficiary. -With the exception of comparatively trifling -annuities and legacies, the whole of the testator’s very -large estates, together with the sum of £300,000 -invested in the three per cents, is willed to your elder -brother, the present Lord Fontenaye.’</p> - -<p class='c007'>“This was a thunderclap; indeed, apart from the -natural distaste felt by most men at having been -suddenly displaced from a position of wealth and -importance, my chief regret arose from the feeling -of disappointment which my change from wealth to -moderate competence would cause to my beloved -Adeline.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No doubt of her loyalty and good faith troubled -me. A legacy from my mother provided a sufficient, -if not unusual income, as well as a fair estate, upon -which we could live in something more than moderate -comfort. Surely no girl would hesitate to declare -her willingness to share the fortunes of a man to whom -she had plighted her troth, though dissociated from -the splendour which surrounded the former position. -I lost no time in telegraphing to her father the change -<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>in our circumstances, at the same time writing a full -explanation and requesting a day’s delay before visiting -Oldacres, on account of necessary arrangements. -But little time was lost in telegraphing an answer -to my communication. ‘Much shocked by your -news. Please to await letter. Miss Montresor much -overcome.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The first news had been disastrous; the second -intimation was unpleasant in tone and suggestion. I -could not but regard it as showing a disposition to -retreat from the engagement. But was this possible—even -probable? Could I think my adored one -guilty of withdrawing from her solemnly pledged -troth-plight, <em>entirely</em> on account of the change in my -fortunes from those of a rich man with an historic -rent-roll and estates hardly exceeded by those of any -English proprietor? Was it then the rents and the -three per cents which this angel-seeming creature -accepted without reference to the man? It would -appear so. My youth and inexperience, how inferior -in worldly wisdom had they shown me to be to this -calculating worldling in the garb of an angel of -light.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If so, of course it was not fully decided so far. Let -the end try the man. I trusted that I should be able -to stand up to my fight, heavy and crushing as might -be the blow Fate had dealt me. But all light and -colour, all sympathy with and savour of pleasure, so-called, -died out of my life. My premonition was but -too accurate. Following the statement in my legal -adviser’s letter, every paper in England had a more -or less sensational paragraph to the effect that the -announcement of the late Sir Reginald Lutterworth’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>testamentary disposition was premature and incorrect. -The bulk of that gentleman’s property, his great -estates, and large deposits in the funds, goes to Lord -Fontenaye, the head of the house.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Soon after this, through some channels of intelligence, -came a harmless looking paragraph in the -personal column of the <cite>Court Circular</cite>:—‘We are -authorised to contradict the report of the engagement -of Miss Adeline Montresor to the Honourable -Valentine Blount. The arrangement, if any, was -terminated by mutual consent.’ A note of studied -politeness from her mother left no doubt on my mind -that her daughter’s engagement to me, too hastily -entered into in the opinion of Mr. Montresor and -herself, must now be regarded as finally terminated. -‘Mr. Blount would understand that, as no good -purpose would be served by an interchange of letters -or an interview, he would consult the feelings of the -family by refraining from requiring either.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Such, and so worded in effect, was my <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">congé</span></i>. It -was a hard fall. In more than one instance within -my knowledge a fatal one.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Last week, <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">fortunatus nimium</span></i>, I had stood on the -very apex of human happiness. Rich—more than -rich, the possessor of historic estates, with a commensurate -rent-roll, above all ecstatically happy as -the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">fiancé</span></i> of the loveliest girl in England—high-born, -highly endowed, the envy of my compeers, the admired -of the crowd—a few short days saw me bereft -of all but a moderate fortune, reduced in position, -socially disrated, discarded by the woman of my -passionate adoration.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What remained, but as was suggested to the victim -<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>of an earlier inrush of disasters? To curse God, and -die? The teaching of my youth, combined with a -substratum of philosophic disdain of the ills of life, -forbade the ignominious surrender. I took counsel -with my calmer self, with my best friends, made no -sign, arranged for regular remittances, and took my -passage for South America.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How I lived among the wild people and wilder -adventurers, whom debt and dishonour, or Bohemian -love of freedom had driven from the headquarters of -art, civilisation and luxury, may be told some day; -sufficient to say that during the five years I lived -abroad much of my unhappiness and despair of life -wore off by the slow but sure attrition of new occupations -amongst strange companions. From time to -time I sent home articles to scientific societies which -gave me a certain vogue in literary circles. At length, -and not until the end of the sixth year of wandering -had been reached, a desire arose to see England and -my people once more. Six months after my departure, -Adeline had married an elderly peer, when, as -Lady Wandsborough, she gained the position and -consideration which I had been unable to offer her. -Two years afterwards another excitement was caused -among the smart set by her elopement with Colonel -Delamere, ‘a distinguished military man,’ said the -<cite>Court Circular</cite>, concerning whom there had been a -growing scandal. Socially condemned, dropped and -disowned, what was to be the end of the brilliant -woman, whose entertainments, dresses, jewels, and -friendships, made up so large a part of English and -Continental chit-chat?</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Lord Wandsborough without loss of time obtained -<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>a divorce. There was no appearance of the co-respondent. -Since then, there had been no authentic -information about the arrant pair—neither, though I -searched the fashion journals with unusual industry, -did I come across the marriage of Colonel Delamere -to the heroine of so many historiettes in high life. -It was not that I had any strong personal interest in -her career, fallen as she was now from her high estate -finally and irrevocably.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But I couldn’t attain to complete detachment from -all human sympathy for the fallen idol of my youthful -dreams, though perhaps my strongest sentiment connected -with her was one of heartfelt gratitude for the -brusque manner in which she had discarded me, and -so saved me from the keenest—the most exquisitely -cruel tortures to which the civilised man can be -subjected.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Of all people in the world she was the last whom -I expected, or indeed desired, to see again; yet we -were doomed to meet once more. I told you that I -came from Hobart, the day after my arrest (save the -mark!), in a vessel from Callao, of which the crew -and passengers were strangely mixed, various in character -as in colour and nationality; South Americans, -Mexicans, Americans of the States, both Northerners -and Southerners. Among them I noted, although I -was far from troubling myself about their histories, a -tall, handsome man, who bore on him the impress of -British military service. It was Colonel Delamere! -I could not be mistaken. I had formed a slight -acquaintance with him in earlier days; had watched -him at cards, with some of the least villanous-looking -of the foreigners, to whose excitable manner and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>reckless language his own offered so marked a contrast. -I did not intend to make myself known to him, but -accident was stronger than inclination. Seeing a -lady struggling up the companion (the weather was -still rough), I moved forward and helped her to a -seat. She turned to thank me, and after an earnest -surprised glance at my face—‘But, no! it can’t be! -Am I so changed?’ she said reproachfully, ‘that -you don’t know Adeline Montresor?’ She <em>was</em> -changed, oh! how sadly, and I had <em>not</em> known her. -The second time, of course, I recognised the object -of my youthful adoration, the woman by whose -heartless conduct I had been so rudely disillusioned. -She glanced at the Colonel, who, engrossed in the -game, had not observed her coming on deck, and -motioned me to take a seat beside her, saying, ‘How -<em>you</em> have changed since we last met! I treated you -shamefully—heartlessly, I confess, but it was all for -your good, as people say to children. You would -never have been the man you are if Fate and I had -not sent you out into the world with a broken heart. -Now tell me all about yourself?’ she continued, with -a glance which recalled the spell of former witchery, -harmless however, <em>now</em>, as summer lightning. ‘You -don’t wish to cut me, I hope?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Far from it,’ I replied, ‘you will always find me -a friend. Is there any way in which I can serve you? -you have only to say. What is your address?’ She -looked over at the Colonel and his companions with a -melancholy air, and replied in a low voice, ‘We are -travelling as “Captain and Mrs. Winchester.” Poor -fellow, he cannot marry me, though he would do so -to-morrow, if he were free from his wife, as I am from -<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>my husband. But she will not go for a divorce, just -to punish us; isn’t it spiteful? You can see—’ here -she touched her dress which was strictly economical—‘that -it is low water with us. I have tried the -stage, and we have been doing light comedy in -Callao, and the coast towns. You have seen me in -the amateur business?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Yes,’ I said, ‘how I admired you!’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I know that,’ and she smiled with a strangely -mingled suggestion of amusement and sadness; ‘you -were a first-class lover in the proposal scene, though -a little too much in earnest. I really <em>was</em> touched, -and if—if indeed—everything had been different, my -heart, my previous experiences, my insane love of -society triumphs, dress, diamonds, etc. These I -thought I had secured, and so accepted your honest -adoration. But even then I was in love with poor -Jack—never loved any one else in fact. I have been -his ruin, and he mine. I see he has finished his game, -and is coming over. You may as well know each -other.’ The Colonel looked at me fixedly, much -wondering at our apparent friendly attitude, then -bowed politely and formally. ‘No, Jack, you don’t -know him, though you’ve seen him before. He’s an -old friend of mine, though, to whom I did a good -turn, the best any one ever did him, when I broke -our engagement short off, after hearing he’d lost his -money. Now you know.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘You’re a queer woman,’ said he, putting out his -hand in frank and manly fashion, which I shook -warmly. ‘I always said you treated him brutally. -It didn’t break his heart, though it might have -suffered at the time. We’re all fools; I nearly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>shot myself when I was just of age over Clara -Westbrook.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Yes, I know,’ assented ‘Mrs. Winchester,’ good-humouredly; -‘now she’s eighteen stone and can -hardly get into her carriage.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘She was dashed handsome then,’ pleaded the -Colonel; ‘but hang the past, it’s the future we’ve got -to look at—not a gay prospect, either. Some people -make money here, I suppose; we were nearly getting -off the boat at Hobart and trying our luck at that new -silver mine, the Cornstalk, or something like that. -Do you know anything about it?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I’m a part proprietor, and so on,’ said I, trying -vainly to divest my manner of any trace of importance, -cruel as was the contrast between my position -and that of this forlorn pair. ‘It was a chance -investment when I came out here.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘The devil! Tregonwell, Blount, Herbert and -Clarke. Forgotten your name, you know. Why, -they say you’re all worth £100,000 each?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘At least!’ I said; ‘quite a fluke, though. My -partner, Tregonwell, who <em>is</em> a good man of business, -wanted to throw it up. I held on out of pure -obstinacy, and it turned up a “bonanza.”’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Your luck was in, and ours is dead out,’ said -‘Mrs. Winchester,’ ‘there’s no denying that, but ours -may turn again some day. Where are we going next, -Jack?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Checked through to Coolgardie, West Australia,’ -said the Colonel. ‘Know some fellows. Believe there -are immensely rich gold mines there. Saw some -quartz specimens in a window in London, as much -gold as quartz.’</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>“‘Quite true. There have been wonderful yields -there,’ said I; ‘it’s an awful hot place, very primitive -and rough. Still, the women—there <em>are</em> ladies, too—manage -to live and keep up their spirits.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘What do you say, Addie, hadn’t you better stay -behind for a while, at any rate?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘All places are alike to me now,’ said she wearily; -‘but where you go I go. We’ll see it out together, -Jack.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘We’re to be in Melbourne to-night, the steward told -me,’ said the Colonel; ‘perhaps Mr. Blount will -kindly recommend an hotel?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I know a good one,’ said I, ‘handy to your boat. -I’ll see you on board to-morrow. The <i>Marloo</i> leaves -in the afternoon. I can give you letters to some -people on “the field” as they call it.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We went to ‘Scott’s,’ where I arranged certain -things with the management. So that when the -Colonel paid his bill next day, and we left together in -a cab for the <i>Marloo</i>, he told his wife that the charges -were most reasonable. She looked at me with a -meaning glance and wrung my hand as the Colonel -hurried off with the luggage. ‘You’re a good fellow,’ -she said, ‘though it’s late in the day to find it out. -You’ve had your revenge, haven’t you? Are you -going to get married?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘next week.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I wish you joy, with all my heart, what there is of -it, that is. Is she beautiful, innocent, devoted to -you?’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘All that,’ said I, ‘and more.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Then tell her my story, and when for vanity, -pleasure, or the tinsel trappings of society she is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>tempted to stray from the simple faith of her youth -(I had it once, strange to say), let her think of <em>me</em> as -I am now, poverty-stricken, degraded, and, except for -poor Jack, whom I have dragged down to ruin with -me, without a friend in the world.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘While I live,’ said I, ‘you must not say that.’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘I know—I know,’ and the tears fell from her -eyes, changed as she was, from all that she had been -in her day of pride. ‘But we can take nothing from -you, of all men. God bless you!’</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Here came the Colonel. ‘Come along, Addie, we -shall be left behind. Ta-ta, Blount, you’re a dashed -good fellow, too good altogether, if you ask me. -We’ll let you know how we get on.’</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>“As the coasting steamer churned the far from -limpid waters of the Yarra, I waved my hand once and -turned my head. They went their way. She and -her companion to a rude life and a cheerless future, -I to love and unclouded happiness, with fortune and -social fame thrown in as makeweights. So there you -have the whole of it. Last dying speech and confession -of a sometime bachelor, but henceforth able to -proudly describe himself ‘as a mawwied man,’ like the -swell in the witness-box, ‘faw-mally in the awmy!’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Edward Bruce came back from Queensland, and -for fear of accidents the wedding was solemnised -quietly, but with all due form and observance, between -Valentine FitzEustace Blount, bachelor, and Imogen -Carrisforth, spinster, of Marondah, in the parish of -Tallawatta, district of Upper Sturt, colony of Victoria, -Australia. The day was one of those transcendant -glories of a summer land, which, as combining -<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>warmth with the fresh dry air of the Great South -Land, are absolutely peerless. The lightly-wooded -downs, verdant as in spring in this exceptional year, -were pleasing to the eye as they stretched away mile -after mile to the base of the mountain range. The -exotic trees, oaks and elms, with a few beeches, -walnuts, and an ash-tree, hard by the back entrance -were in fullest leaf, most brilliant greenery. The -great willows hung their tresses over the river bank, -swaying over the murmuring stream, while they -almost covered the channel with their trailing -wreaths.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The glory of the wattle gold had departed; the -graceful tender fern-frond appearing chaplets were no -longer intertwined with the lavish spring gold which, -following the windings of every streamlet and ravine, -seems to penetrate the dim grey woodlands with -golden-threaded devices. Herald and earliest note -in tone and tendril of that manifold, divinest harmony, -the Voice of Spring. A souvenir of the ocean in the -form of a gladsome, whispering breeze came through -the woodland at noon, tempering the sun’s potent -influence, until all comments and criticisms united in -one sincerest utterance, an absolutely perfect day, -fitting, indeed, as the youngest bridesmaid asserted, -for such an ideal marriage.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Nothing went wrong with train or coach this time. -Fate had done her worst, and was minded to hold off -from these persistent seekers after happiness. Edward -Bruce had arrived from Queensland, sunbrowned, -rather harder in condition than when he left home, -but hale, strong, in good spirits, and even jubilant, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>having heard by wire of a six-inch rainfall since his -departure.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Little-River-Jack and the O’Hara brothers had -crowned themselves with glory on Crichel Downs -since they had been employed there. Energetic, -athletic, and miraculously learned in every department -of bush lore, they had thrown themselves into the -work of the drought-stricken district with an amount -of enthusiasm that rejoiced the manager’s heart, -moving him to declare that they were worth their -weight in gold, and had saved the lives of sheep and -cattle to the value of their wages six times over. He -was going to give Little-River-Jack the post of overseer -at a back outstation, and felt certain that no one -would get hold of calf, cow, or bullock with the -Crichel Downs brand as long as he was in charge. -Phelim and Pat O’Hara were kept on the home -station, and for driving a weak flock of sheep at night, -or “moonlighting” the outlying scrub cattle, no one -in all Queensland, except Jim Bradfield, was fit to -“hold a candle” to them.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was for various reasons, the bride’s recent illness -and other considerations, that what is known as “a -quiet wedding” took place, yet were there certain -additions to the family circle.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Pastoral neighbours, such as the MacRimmons, the -Grants, the MacAulays, the Chesters, the Waterdales, -could not decently be left out. Besides the seniors, -they included large families of young men and -maidens born and reared among the forests and -meadows of the Upper Sturt. The climatic conditions -of this Highland region proved its adaptability for the -development of the Anglo-Saxon and the Anglo-Celt, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>for finer specimens of the race than these young -people who rode and drove so joyously to this popular -function would have been difficult, if not impossible, -to find. The men, tall, stalwart, adepts in every -manly exercise; the girls, fresh-coloured, high-spirited, -full of the joyous abandon of early youth, as yet -unworn by care and with the instinctive confidence of -all healthy minded young people in the continuance -of the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">joie de vivre</span></i>, of which they had inherited so -large a share.</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was noticed by some of these whose eyes were -sharp and general intelligence by no means limited, -that at the breakfast there was a new damsel who -assisted the waiting maid, Josephine Macintyre -(chiefly known as Joe Mac), a smart soubrette of prepossessing -appearance.</p> - -<p class='c008'>With her the bride and bridegroom shook hands -warmly before they departed “for good.” Well and -becomingly dressed, she was an object of more than -ordinary interest to some of the youthful squirearchy.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why, it’s Sheila Maguire, from Bunjil!” said one -youngster to his comrade. “Thought I’d seen her -before, somewhere. Doesn’t she look stunning?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“My word,” was the reply. “They say she’s been -left a lot of money by old Barney, her uncle.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“She’s a fine, straight, jolly girl, with no nonsense -about her,” declared the first speaker, “a man might -do worse than make up to her, if he had to live in the -back blocks.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why don’t you try the experiment?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Thanks, awfully! Hope I shall do as well—but -I’m not ‘on the marry’ just yet. Want to see -another Melbourne Cup or so first.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>There was no “marriage bell,” yet all went well -without that obsolete summons. Every one turned -up at the right time, not even the best man was -absent. He came the evening before—a cool, unpretending -person, very correctly dressed, and with -“soldier” written all over him—in spite of the vain -disguise of mufti. He was presented as Colonel -Pelham Villiers, D.S.O., Royal Engineers, just down -from Northern India. That he had “assisted” at -such functions before was evident by the air of -authority with which he put the bridegroom through -his facings, and even ordered the bridesmaids about—“like -a lot of chorus girls”—as Susie Allerton -observed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>She had (she said) “a great mind to refuse to -obey,” but after once meeting the look in a pair of -stern grey eyes—hers were hazel—she capitulated. -He took her in to breakfast, it was noticed, where -they seemed excellent friends.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Punctually at three p.m. the drag came round -with Edward Bruce on the box—behind such a team -as only one station on the Upper Sturt could turn -out. The leaders—own brothers—cheap at a hundred -apiece, were a “dream,” as an enthusiastic girl -observed, while the solid pair of dark bays in the -wheel were scarcely behind them in value.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Out came the bride in travelling suit of grey, on -the arm of “the happiest man in Australia,” as he -had that day professed himself to be. Black Paddy -noiselessly relinquished the rein of the nearside -leader, a fine tempered, but impatient animal, and -like one horse, the well-broken, high-mettled team -moved off. The road was level, and smooth for the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>first half mile, then came a long up grade pretty -much against collar, the team, at a touch of the rein, -broke into a hand gallop, which they kept up easily -until the crown of the hill was reached. There on -the long down-grade—high above the river bank on -one side, and scooped out of the mountain side on -the other, the powerful leg-brake was applied, and the -laden vehicle rolled steadily, and well controlled, until -the level track of the river meadow was reached. -There was a full quarter of an hour to spare when -the railway station was neared, and with the luggage -checked through to Menzies Hotel, Melbourne, and -an engaged carriage for Imogen and himself, Mr. -Blount decided that the first stage of matrimonial -happiness was reached.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER X</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Hobart</span>, where it was decided to spend the honeymoon, -from their joint experience of its unequalled -summer climate, and picturesque beauty, was reached -on the following day. A charming villa “by the sad -sea waves” had been secured for them, by a friend, -the all-potential personage who “ran,” so to speak, -the social, sporting, and residential affairs of the city, -and whose dictum, at once suave and authoritative, -no Tasmanian, whether foreign visitor or native born, -was found bold enough to withstand. The bridegroom -remembered driving there in a tandem cart, -drawn by a refractory pair, which he had reduced to -subjection, doing the twelve miles out, at a creditable -pace, though not quite in time for dinner. But the -view, the isolation and the forest paths of this ideal -private paradise had imprinted themselves indelibly -on his memory.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As it happened, the person in charge of the cottage -was absent, but refreshment was sent in by the housekeeper, -which they were in a mood thoroughly to -enjoy, looking forward to the many divine repasts -which they would share in this enchanting retreat.</p> - -<p class='c008'>From the open window of the morning room, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>looking eastward, they gazed over the south arm of -the Derwent; a broad estuary having the cloud -effects and much of the spacious grandeur of the -ocean. The headland, on which the bungalow stood, -commanded a wide and varied view, in which sea and -crag, land and water were romantically mingled. -Scrambling down the cliff by a precipitous path to -the beach, they found to their great delight that a -raspberry plantation had been formed on the cliff-sheltered -slope, much of which was in full bearing. -The modified English climate of Tasmania is eminently -favourable to the production of the smaller -fruits, such as the currant, strawberry, gooseberry, -raspberry and blackberry—this last growing in wild -profusion in hedges and over fences.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! how delightful,” cried Imogen, as, seated on -a large stone she applied herself to the consumption -of an enticing raspberry feast spread upon a leaf -platter, woven deftly by the hands of her husband. -“Look at the calm water—the fishing boats, the gulls, -the small waves breaking on the beach! Was there -ever such an ideal honeymoon lodge? And these -lovely raspberries. We can get cream at the house. -And what a leaf platter! Where did you learn to -make one, sir? you must have had practice.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“At Nuku-heva! I was stranded there for six -months once. The girls taught me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Girls, indeed! That sounds very general and -comprehensive. No savage maiden in particular. -Quite sure, now? No photograph?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If there was, I’ve forgotten all about her. I -don’t keep photographs. There’s only one damsel -that is imperishably engraved upon heart and soul—memory, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>aye, this mortal frame—by a totally new -process. It has the effect of destroying all former -negatives—the best specimens of photography are -put to shame, and obliterated.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And that is called—?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The last love of the mature man—the answering -fondness of <em>the</em> woman—the best love—the true love—the -only love which survives the burden of care, -the agony of grief, the chances and changes of life. -The steady flame which burns even brighter in the -dark depths of despair.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! I daresay—fascinating creatures, I suppose—were -they not?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I have forgotten all about them. There is one -fascination for me, henceforth, and one only. It will -last me until my life ends or hers. I pray that mine -may be the first summons.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Men were deceivers, ever,” hummed Imogen. -“But I must make the best of it, now I have got you. -The Fates were against us at first, were they not? -What a strange thing is a girl’s heart! How short a -time it takes to cast itself at a man’s feet. How -long—long—endless, wretched, unendurable are the -days of doubt, grief, anguish unutterable, if he prove -faithless, or the girl has over-rated his attachment. -It nearly killed me, when I thought you had gone -away without caring.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And suppose I <em>had</em> never returned? I began to -believe you had decided not to answer my letters. -That Edward had not relented. That <em>you</em> did not -care—transient interest, and so on. It is so with -many women.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Transient interest!” cried Imogen, jumping up -<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>and scattering the raspberries in her excitement. -“Why, there was not one single hour from the time -you left Marondah till I saw you again, that my -heart was not full of thoughts of you. Why should -I not think of you? You told me you loved me—though -it was so short a time since we had met, and -my every sense cried out that your love was returned—redoubled -in fervour and volume.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How little we know of women and their deeper -feelings,” mused Blount. “How often you hear of a -pair of lovers, that he or she has ‘changed their -mind.’ The ordinary platitudes are rehearsed to -friends and acquaintances. When they separate—perhaps -for ever—the outside world murmurs -cynically, ‘better before marriage than after,’ and the -incident is closed.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Closed, yes,” answered Imogen, “because one -heart is bleeding to death.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>While rambling through the old house, which was -handsomely furnished, though not in modern fashion, -they came upon a morning room, which had evidently -been regarded as a fitting apartment for -treasures of art and literature, etchings, etc.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In it was a bookcase, containing old and choice -editions. The dates, those of the last century, told -a tale of the family fortunes, presumably at a higher -level of position than in these later days. A “dower -chest” of oak was rubbed over, and the inscription -deciphered; a few rare etchings were noted and -appreciated. Through these the lovers went carefully -hand in hand, Blount, who was a connoisseur of -experience, pointing out to Imogen any special value, -or acknowledged excellence; when, suddenly letting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>go her hand, he rushed over to a dim corner of the -room, where he stopped in front of an oil painting, -evidently of greater age and value than the other -pictures.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes,” he said, first carefully removing the dust -from the left hand corner of the canvas, under which, -though faint and indistinct, the name of a once -famous artist, with a date, could be distinguished.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I thought so, it is a Romney. He was famed for -his portraits. But what a marvellous coincidence! -Perfectly miraculous! I was told that in Tasmania -I should fall across curious survivals, as at one time -the emigration of retired military and naval officers -was officially stimulated by the English Government. -The promise of cheap land and labour (that of -assigned servants, as they were called) in a British -colony with a mild climate and fertile soil, attracted -to a quasi-idyllic life those heads of families, whose -moderate fortunes forbade enterprise in Britain. -Special districts, such as Westbury and New Norfolk, -were indicated as peculiarly adapted for fruit and -dairy farms.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I remember quite well,” said Imogen, “when I -was here at school in Hobart, that many of the girls -belonged to families such as you mention. Such -nice people, with grand old names, but so very, very -poor. The parents were not the sort to get on in a -new country, though the sons, as they grew up, -mostly altered that state of affairs. But they did not -remain in Tasmania. No! they went to Queensland, -New Zealand, or Victoria till they made money. -Then they generally returned to marry an old sweetheart -and settle down for life near Launceston or -<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>Hobart. They were very patriotic, and awfully fond -of their dear little island. But what is all this -coincidence? You seem quite excited about it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Will you have the goodness to look at this -picture, Mrs. Blount?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I am looking,” said she. “It must be a very -life-like portrait of somebody. And how beautifully -painted! Quite a gem, evidently. The more you -look at it the more life-like it appears. What lovely -blue eyes! A girl in the glory of her youthful -graces; I mustn’t add airs, I suppose, for fear of -being thought cynical. But the expression must -have been caught with amazing fidelity. Stamped, -as it were, for ever. I suppose it is very valuable?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“If it is the portrait which I have reason to believe -it is its value is great. The original was found in an -old manor house belonging to the De Cliffords. The -house—once a king’s—though not untenanted, was -let to people unacquainted with art, and had been so -neglected as to be almost in ruins. The owner of -the estate, an eccentric recluse, was a very old man. -He refused to have any of the furniture removed, or -the paintings taken down from the walls. At his -death, people were permitted to view the place, -which was afterwards sold. The heir-at-law turned -everything he could into money, and emigrated to -Tasmania.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Quite the proper thing to do. We did something -of the same sort, whereof the aforesaid Imogen (I was -so described in my settlement) met with one Blount, -and marrying him, became the happiest girl in -Australia or out of it. Didn’t she?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Blount responded appropriately; it would seem -<span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>convincingly, for the dialogue was resumed as they -again went out. She desired to know why, and -wherefore, this particular portrait was so very precious. -Other young women, doubtless, in that long -dead time, had had their portraits painted.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Because this is the <em>very</em> picture, I am almost -certain, which inspired Robert Montgomery with -those lovely lines of his: ‘To the Portrait of an -Unknown Lady.’ Have you never read them?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No! I have heard some one speak of them, -though.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, the picture disappeared before the sale. The -family would never explain. There was evidently -some mystery, painful or otherwise, connected with -it. Montgomery’s lines had made it famous. And -it was a disappointment to intending buyers, many -of whom came long distances to bid for it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Rather a long story, but wildly interesting. To -think that we should have come across it on our -wedding trip, and <em>here</em> of all places. Well, as a -punishment for your taking so much interest in an -unknown lady you shall repeat the lines. I daresay -you know them by heart.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think I do. At any rate I know the leading -ones. If there are more we can read them together -afterwards.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘Image of one who lived of yore,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Hail to that lovely mien!</div> - <div class='line'>Once quick and conscious, now no more</div> - <div class='line in4'>On land or ocean seen;</div> - <div class='line'>Were all life’s breathing forms to pass</div> - <div class='line'>Before me in Agrippa’s glass,</div> - <div class='line'>Many as fair as thou might be,</div> - <div class='line'>But oh! not one, not one <em>like thee</em>!’”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>Here the girl’s head sank on her lover’s shoulder, -and as her slender form reclined with the unconscious -abandon of a child against his breast, while his -arm wound closely and yet more closely around her -yielding waist, “Oh! go on, go on, my darling! let -me hear it all,” she murmured:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘Thou art no child of fancy—thou</div> - <div class='line in4'>The very look dost wear</div> - <div class='line'>That gave enchantment to a brow,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Wreathed with luxuriant hair—</div> - <div class='line'>Lips of the morn, embalmed in dew,</div> - <div class='line'>And eyes of evening’s starry blue,</div> - <div class='line'>Of all that e’er enjoyed the sun,</div> - <div class='line'>Thou art the image of but <em>one</em>!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘And who was she in virgin prime</div> - <div class='line in4'>And May of womanhood,</div> - <div class='line'>Whose roses here, unplucked by time,</div> - <div class='line in4'>In shadowy tints have stood?</div> - <div class='line'>While many a winter’s withering blast</div> - <div class='line'>Hath o’er the dark cold chamber passed,</div> - <div class='line'>In which her once resplendent form</div> - <div class='line'>Slumbered to dust beneath the storm.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘Of gentle blood, upon her birth</div> - <div class='line in4'>Consenting planets smiled,</div> - <div class='line'>And she had seen those days of mirth</div> - <div class='line in4'>Which frolic round the child:</div> - <div class='line'>To bridal bloom her youth had sprung,</div> - <div class='line'>Behold her beautiful and young;</div> - <div class='line'>Lives there a record which hath told</div> - <div class='line'>That she was wedded, widowed, old?</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘How long the date, ’twere vain to guess,</div> - <div class='line in4'>The pencil’s cunning art</div> - <div class='line'>Can but one single glance express,</div> - <div class='line in4'>One motion of the heart,</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>A smile, a blush, a transient grace</div> - <div class='line'>Of air and attitude and face,</div> - <div class='line'>One passion’s changing colour mix,</div> - <div class='line'>One moment’s flight, for ages fix.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘Where dwelt she? ask yon aged oak</div> - <div class='line in4'>Whose boughs embower the lawn,</div> - <div class='line'>Whether the bird’s wild minstrelsy</div> - <div class='line in4'>Awoke her here at dawn?</div> - <div class='line'>Whether beneath its youthful shade</div> - <div class='line'>At noon, in infancy, she played?</div> - <div class='line'>If from the oak no answer come</div> - <div class='line'>Of her, all oracles are dumb!’</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“There are more verses; I will show you the poem so -that you may enjoy the spirit of it. It was a favourite -of mine, since boyhood. And now I see the crests -of the waves towards the southern skyline, rearing -higher. The sea breeze is often chill. Suppose we -scramble up the path and go inside?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What a lovely view! and what delicious verses,” -cried the girl. “Shall we always be as happy as we -are now? I feel as if I did not deserve it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And I am lost in wonder and admiration at the -supernatural state of bliss in which <em>I</em> find myself,” -answered Blount. “I ought to throw something of -value into the deep, to avert the anger of Nemesis. -Here goes,” and before Imogen could prevent him, he -had unfastened a bangle which he wore on his wrist, -and hurled it far into the advancing tide. “Let us -hope that no fish will swallow it, and return it, through -the agency of the cookmaid.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Now, I call that wasteful and superstitious,” quoth -Imogen, pretending to be angry. “You will need all -the silver in the South Pacific Comstock, if you throw -<span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>about jewellery in that reckless fashion. And who -gave you that bangle, may I ask? You never showed -it to me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I won it in a bet, long ago. The agreement was -that whoever won was to wear the bangle till he or -she was married. After that, they might dispose of -it as they thought fit. I forgot all about it till -to-day. So this seemed an auspicious hour, and I -sacrificed it to the malign deities.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And this is man’s fidelity!” quoted Imogen. -“For of course, it was a woman. Confess! Didn’t -your heart give a little throb, as you pitched away -the poor thing’s gift?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Hm! the poor thing, as you call her, is happily -married ‘to a first-class Earl, that keeps his carriage.’ -I daresay she’s forgotten my name, as I nearly did -that of the possessor of the bangle.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>The allotted term of happiness passed at the -Hermitage, for such had been the name given to it by -the original owner, who lived there for the last remaining -years of a long life, too quickly came to an end. -For happiness, it surely was, of the too rare, exquisitely -attempered quality, undisturbed by regrets for -the past, or forebodings for the future. Such wounds -and bruises of the heart, as he had encountered, -though painful, even in a sense agonising, at the time, -were of a nature to be cured by the subtle medicaments -of the old established family physician, Time. -They were not “his fault,” so to speak. Such sorrows -and smarts are not of the nature of incurable complaints. -The agony abates. The healthful appetite -in youth for variety, for change of scene, the solace -<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>of bodily exercise, and the competition with new -intelligences, extinguish morbid imaginings: thus -leaving free the immortal Genius of Youth to range -amid the unexplored kingdoms of Romance, where -in defiance of giants and goblins, he is yet fated to -discover and carry off the fairy princess.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And I did discover her, darling, didn’t I?” said -he, fondly pressing her hand which lay so lovingly -surrendered to his own, as after a long stroll through -the fern-shadowed glades of the still untouched -primeval forest, they came in sight of the Hermitage, -and halted to watch the breakers rolling on the beach -below the verandah, where during their first delirium -they had so often watched the moon rise over a -summer sea.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All very well, sir,” replied Imogen, with the bright -smile which irradiated her countenance like that of a -joyous child, “but the ‘carrying off’ ‘hung fire’ (to -return to the prose of daily life), until the princess -became apprehensive, lest she might not be carried off -at all, and was minded to set out to reverse the process, -and carry off the knight. How would that have -sounded? What a deathblow to all the legends of -chivalry! The page’s dress would be rather a -difficulty, wouldn’t it? Fancy me appearing amongst -all those nice girls and men at Hollywood Hall! -Inquiring, too, for ‘a gentleman of the name of -Blount!’ I hardly <em>did</em> know your name then, -which would have been a drawback. I am tall -enough for a page, though, and could have arranged -the ‘clustering ringlets, rich and rare,’ like poor -Constance de Beverley. How I wept for her, when -I was a school-girl, little thinking that I should -<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>have to weep bitter tears for myself in days to -come.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And did she weep, my heart’s treasure, in her true -knight’s absence?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Weep?” cried she, while—in the midst of her -mockery and simulated grief, the true tears filled her -eyes at the remembrance, “‘wept enough to extinguish -a beacon light’—I took to reading dear Sir Walter -Scott again in sheer desperation. <i>Ivanhoe</i> and <i>Rob -Roy</i> saved my life, I really believe, when I was -recovering from that—hm—‘influenza.’ Oh, how -wretched I was! As the Sturt, that dear old river, -flowed before my window, more than once I thought -what a release it would be from all but unendurable -pangs. I don’t wonder that women drown or hang -themselves in such a case. I knew of one—yes—two -instances—poor things!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Any men?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes; two also. So the numbers are even. We -don’t seem to be growing cheerful, though, do we? -I feel just a little tired; afternoon tea must be nearly -ready. There’s nothing left for us now (as Stevenson -says), ‘not even suicide, only to be good,’ a fine -resolve to finish up with.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Let us seal the contract, those who are in favour, -etc. Carried unanimously!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The day’s post brought a letter from Mr. Tregonwell, -which, like a stone thrown into a pond, disturbed the -smoothness of their idyllic life. An incursion of the -emissaries of Fate was imminent.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mr. Blount’s presence was absolutely, <em>urgently</em> -necessary at the mine. There was industrial trouble -brewing. The ‘wages men’—as those labourers at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>a mine are called, who are not shareholders—had -increased necessarily to a large number; <em>they</em> wanted -higher pay, the weather being bad and the discomforts -considerable. The British shareholders were -in a majority on the London Board and were beginning -to make their power felt. No serious dispute, -but better to arrange in time. Would have come -himself to Hobart, but thought it imprudent at -present to leave the mine. Very rich ore body -just opened out. Prospects absolutely wonderful. -Sorry to bother him, but business urgent.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What a terrible man!” moaned Imogen. “Wherever -we are he will always be coming suddenly down -upon us and destroying our peace of mind. I suppose, -however, that he is a necessary evil.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“He is a first-rate worker and very prudent withal, -but to show the element of luck in these matters it is -to <em>my</em> decision, not his, that we retained the share -which is now likely to become a fortune.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! but there must be some special quality -among your bundle of qualities which you are so fond -of decrying,” said Imogen, with wifely partiality; -“some quick insight into the real value of things, -which is in so many cases superior to mere industry -and perseverance.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“There must be,” said Blount thoughtfully, accepting -the compliment, “or how should I have secured -<em>one</em> priceless treasure to which all the mines of -Golconda are but as pebbles and withered leaves.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What treasure? Oh, flatterer!” said the girl; -“how you have capped my poor but honest belief in -you. Well, time alone must tell how this particularly -clever human investment is going to turn out. It -<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>won’t do for this lady to ‘protest too much.’ Now -where shall I stay until my knight returns from -the war?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“In Hobart, I should say, most decidedly. It is -a cheerful city at this season of year. The coolness -of the summer, the charm of the scenery, the cheerfulness -of the society—this being the play-place of six -other colonies. Any chance of Mrs. Bruce coming -over? Suggest the idea.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Perhaps she might.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Tell her I have taken a cottage between Sandy -Bay and Brown’s River for her specially; one of the -loveliest suburbs. If she’ll come over and take care -of you, I shall be eternally indebted to her for the -<em>second</em> time. You remember the first? How good -she was. But for her —, etc.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“She must come as our guest, and bring Black -Paddy and Polly, and the babies, for offside groom -and nurserymaid—(that’s good Australian, isn’t it? -nearly equal to ‘Banjo’ Paterson).”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Stuff and nonsense! Australians talk the purest -English; rather better, in fact, than the home-grown -article. But oh! how I should love to have her here -and the dear chicks. Edward could come for her -afterwards.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>So that was settled. Mrs. Bruce, replying, wrote -that Edward had given her leave to come for a couple -of months. It was really getting very hot and baby -was pale. He, Edward, not the baby, was going to -Sydney on business; thought of selling out of Queensland, -so would cross over and spend the end of the -visit with them.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>These arrangements were carried out. Mrs. Bruce, -with her servants and children, were safely bestowed -at the pretty villa at Sandy Bay, where Black Paddy, -as groom and coachman, and Polly, as under-nursemaid, -excited as much attention as Mrs. Huntingdon’s -ayah from Madras. Mr. Blount was free to depart -for the South Pacific Comstock (Proprietary), which -included a decided change from these Arcadian -habitudes. Arrived at Strahan, he perceived various -improvements, which he correctly attributed to -Tregonwell’s boundless energy and aroused imagination.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Long stretches of corduroy, regularly repaired, -rendered the transit business comparatively free from -difficulty. Great gangs of men were employed in clearing -the track for the projected railway. The work of -piercing the forest was tremendous. The great size of -the trees (a scientist had measured one eighty feet in -circumference), the density and confused nature of the -jungle, through which the way had almost to be -tunnelled, if such an expression can be applied to -operations above ground, retarded progress. The -masses of fallen timber at the sides of the track, the -whole laborious task carried on under ceaseless rain, -was sufficient to over-task the energies of all but the -stubborn, resistless Anglo-Saxon.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But on the mining fields of Australasia, if but the -precious metal, gold, silver, or copper, be visible, or -even believed to be within reach in sufficient quantities, -<em>no toil</em>, no hardship is sufficient to daunt the -resolute miner; neither heat, nor cold, the burning -dust storms of Broken Hill, the icy blasts that sweep -from the solitudes of Cape Nome over the frozen soil -<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>of Klondyke, have power to stay the conquering -march of the men, ay, of the women of our race, or -slake the thirst for adventure which is as the breath -of their nostrils.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So, by the time Mr. Blount arrived on the scene, -after a single day’s journey from the coast, the melodramatic -action of a progressive mining town was “in -full blast.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The hotels and stores were comparatively palatial. -Tall weatherboard buildings with balconies, enabled -the inmates to gaze over the waving ocean of tree-tops -and to mark where the jungle had been invaded -by the pioneer’s axe, that primary weapon of civilisation. -The streets, miry and deep-rutted, had yet -side walks with wooden curbs, which provisionally, at -any rate, preserved the foot passengers from the -slough into which the ceaseless trampling of bullocks, -horses and mules had worn the track. As in all such -places in their earlier stages, money was plentiful. -Wages were high, labour was scarce. The adventurers -who came to inspect the “field” necessarily -brought capital with them. Under the Mining Act -and Regulations of the colony, allotments had been -marked out in the principal streets to be acquired by -purchase or lease. Legal occupation had succeeded -the early scramble for possession. A Progress Committee -had been formed, precursor of municipal -action, of which Mr. Tregonwell, of course, was the -elected President. Its members advised the Government -of the day of urgently necessary reforms, or -demanded such, with no lack of democratic earnestness. -Behind all this life and movement there was -the encouraging certainty of the still-increasing richness -<span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>of the principal mine, the original shares in which -rose to a height almost unprecedented.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Among other necessities of civilisation, a newspaper -had, of course, been established. The <cite>Comstock Clarion</cite> -subserved its purpose by clean type, smart local intelligence, -and accurate reviews of all mining enterprises -from Australia to the ends of the earth. -Having been waited upon by the editor without loss -of time, Mr. Blount found himself thus presented to -an intelligent and enterprising public:—</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c012'> - <div>“<span class='sc'>A Distinguished Visitor.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“Yesterday morning we had the honour of welcoming -to our thriving township a gentleman, to whose -courage and enterprise the public of Comstock are -indebted for the inception of a great national industry, -the founding of a city fated to rival, if not surpass, in -wealth and population both Hobart and Launceston. -Mr. Blount courteously supplied, in answer to our -request, the following interesting notes of his original -connection with the great mine in which he owns a -controlling interest.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Visiting Tasmania <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en route</span></i> for England a few -years since, he was offered shares in a newly-prospected -silver mine. Mr. Tregonwell was then associated -with him in mining ventures. The partners were -offered a half share in the claim newly taken up of -four men’s ground, Messrs. Herbert and Clarke -owning the remainder. Mr. Tregonwell, though -experienced and sanguine—of which qualities we have -ample proof before our eyes—advised the rejection of -the ‘show.’ Mr. Blount, for a reason not stated, was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>firm in retaining it. He was in a position to find the -cash for payment of lease application, rents, and -working expenses until the discovery of the richest -silver lode south of the line was an accomplished -fact. ‘Si monumentum queris, circumspice.’”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The Latin quotation was inappropriate, inasmuch -as it was not proposed to erect any kind of memorial -structure in honour of Mr. Blount, but it looked well, -and few of the readers of the <cite>Clarion</cite> were critical. -However, the article had the effect of directing all -eyes to the visitor, unobtrusively dressed as he was, -whenever he appeared. He was, of course, <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">fêted</span></i> and -invited to banquets given by leading citizens or -mining celebrities. The financial condition of the -mine was eminently satisfactory, even brilliant. It -held a high place among British investors and foreign -syndicates. Members even of the British Parliament -did not disdain to take passages in the “P. and O.” -or “Messageries’” boats for the special purpose of -inspecting the wonderful mine. They returned laden -with lumps of ore, being fragments of a silver mountain -which they had seen with their eyes and driven -a pick into when personally conducted by the -American “mining Captain,” who received £5,000 a -year salary, and was promised another £1,000 should -things continue to go well.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As the season had advanced the weather even in -that austere and dreadful wilderness relaxed its icy -grip. The forest trees, the giant eucalypts and -towering pines, “had a tinge of softer green.” The -moss looked bright “touched by the footsteps of -spring,” haunting even that unlovely wild. Mr. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>Blount, though loyally impatient to return to his -Imogen and the calm delights of Hobart, felt distinctly -in better spirits. He even took a mild -gratification in marking the heterogeneous element of -the stranger hordes that arrived daily, gathered as -they were from the ends of the earth, of all nations -apparently, and several colours. “Gentle and simple,” -forlorn workers and wayfarers from many a distant -land, mingled with derelicts of the classes akin to “Mr. -and Mrs. Winchester.” The men feverishly anxious -to strike some lucky find or chance investment, the -women poorly dressed, working at the humblest -household tasks, all wearing the vague, yearning, -half-despairing expression, which comes of the heart-sickness -of “hope deferred.” Theirs was the harder -lot. Still, with but few exceptions, they faced the -rude living and unaccustomed toil with the courage -women invariably show when hard fortune makes a -call on their nobler attributes.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Nowhere is the ascent of the “up grade” of mining -prosperity, when the tide of fortune is flowing, and -the financial barometer is “set fair,” made easier than -in Australasia. Rude as may be the earlier stages, -the change from the mining camp, the collection of -rude cabins, to the town, the city even, is magically -rapid. To the gold or silver deposit, as the case may -be, everything is attracted with resistless force as by -the loadstone mountain of Sindbad. Time, distance, -the rude approach by land travel, the stormy seas, -all are defied. And though delays and dangers are -so thickly strewn before the path of the adventurer, -he and his like invariably arrive at their goal and -would get there somehow, if behind every tree stood -<span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>an armed robber, and were every trickling creek a -turbulent river.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Tregonwell had proved himself capable of carrying -out the rather extensive programme, financial and -otherwise, which he had produced for the inspection -of his partners on their first meeting at the mine. -The manager of world-wide experience and unequalled -reputation <em>had</em> been procured from America; -had been paid the liberal salary; had proved himself -more than worthy of his fame. The railway to -Strahan was in process of completion. Contracts, let -at many different points, were nearing one another -with startling rapidity.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The price of provisions had fallen. Wages were -high—yet the contractors were making as much -money as the shareholders. With the exception of -the very poor and the chronic cases of ill-luck from -which no community is, ever has been, or ever will -be free, the Great Silver Field was the modern -exemplar of a place where every one had all that he -wanted now, and was satisfied that such would be the -case for the future.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The wages misunderstanding had been settled, an -arrangement made with one of the most stable banks -in Australia, by which the Directors agreed to cash -Mr. Tregonwell’s drafts for all reasonable, and, indeed, -unreasonable, amounts, as some over-cautious, narrow-minded -people considered. The predominant partner -began to revolve the question of an early departure. -The juniors, Charlie Herbert and Jack Clarke, had -earned golden opinions from Tregonwell as cheerful -workers and high-couraged comrades. He willingly -agreed to their holidays at Christmas time, now -<span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>drawing nigh, if one would remain with him for -company, and perhaps assistance in time of need, -while the other enjoyed himself among his relatives -and friends in one of the charming country houses of -his native land. As for himself, he did not require -change or recreation, his duty was to the shareholders, -who had entrusted him with such uncontrolled powers -of dictatorship.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount would be within easy reach of telegrams -at Hobart, whence he could come up for a -week when a difficult point or question of further -outlay needed to be settled. Comstock was not such -a very uncomfortable place now, and would be less -so in the near future, and Frampton Tregonwell had -lived and thriven amid worse surroundings.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So, as the short summer of the West Coast crept -slowly on towards the “great Festival” which heralds -“Peace on Earth, and good will towards men,” all -things seemed moving in a tranquil orderly manner -towards organised success and permanent prosperity. -The big mill with the newest improvements, and a -high-grade German scientist from Freiburg in command, -had just been completed and was turning out -unprecedented returns. Everything went smoothly, -socially and otherwise. Although so near to what -had once been an accumulation of the most desperate -criminals the world could show, only kept under by -the merciless uniformity of a severe administration—the -present crime record was curiously low, and -trifling in extent. Labour was well paid, well fed -and lodged. All men had, moreover, the hope of -even greater benefits, as results from their toil. Under -these circumstances the list of offences is invariably -<span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>light. The inducements to crime were so small, as -almost to lead to an optimistic belief that incursions -on the goods and persons of neighbours would at an -early date cease and determine. The dream of the -philanthropist would at last be fulfilled.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Perhaps, also, that other dream of a socialistic -division of labour with equal partition of the fruits of -the earth, and the partition of the fruits of labour -(chiefly <em>other men’s</em> labour) for the benefit of the poor -but honest worker would be an accomplished fact.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So, in the ordering of things mundane, it came to -pass that Mr. Blount, to his great contentment and -satisfaction, had everything arranged and “fixed up,” -as Tregonwell expressed it (culling his phrases from -all nations and many tongues), and departing via -Strahan, bade farewell for the present to Macquarie -Harbour, Hell’s Gates, and the other lonely and more -or less historic localities. The passage, for a wonder, -was smooth, the wind fair, and it was with joy and -satisfaction, which he could hardly forbear expressing -in a shout of exultation, that he found himself -once more in Hobart, within arm’s length, so to speak, -of Imogen and his “kingdom by the sea.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>That young woman had kept herself well informed -as to the time when the Strahan steamer might be -expected, and appeared at the wharf driving the -mail phaeton. Black Paddy was beside her on the -box; in front was the bay mare, “Matchless,” with -her mate “Graceful,” in top condition, and ready to -jump out of their skins, with rest and good keep. -This valuable animal, formerly hard worked, with but -little rest, and far from luxurious fare, had been -contented to rattle up and down the hills between -<span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>Hobart and Brown’s River and the Huon, without -so much as a hint from the whip. Under present -circumstances, she naturally took a little holding.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But Imogen and Mrs. Bruce had been accustomed -to ride and drive almost as soon as they could walk. -With great nerve and full experience, fine hands, an -unequalled knowledge of the tempers and dispositions, -management and control, of all sorts and -conditions of horses, very few secrets of the noble -animal, whether in saddle or harness, were hidden -from them. So when Imogen drove up to the -Tasmanian Club, where her husband had temporarily -deposited himself, his specimens and belongings -generally, he had no misgivings as to the competency -of his charioteer, nor did he offer, as most men would -have done, to take the reins himself.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How well they look,” he remarked, after the first -greeting, “‘Matchless’ has fallen on her legs in -coming to this establishment. Does she give any -trouble in her altered condition?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Hardly any, only she doesn’t like waiting, now -there is no cab behind her. Burra burrai, Paddy! -Mine thinkit mare plenty saucy direckaly.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>That swart retainer understood the position, and -helping the club servant with the heaviest trunk on to -the back seat, stepped up beside it with noiseless agility, -while at the same moment “Matchless” and “Graceful” -moved off with regulated speed, which soon -landed them at “home”—a word which Mr. Blount -pleased himself by repeating more than once.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Hilda looks just as she did,” said he, “when I first -saw her at Marondah. I admired her then. I -admire her now—how little I thought that I should -<span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>see her again, as a sister-in-law! or that a certain -‘vision of delight was to burst upon my sight’ so -soon afterwards.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I remember how you stared,” said Imogen; -“almost rudely, indeed. Didn’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“First of all, I didn’t know that Mrs. Bruce had a -sister in the house. Secondly, when the girl aforesaid -appeared, unexpectedly in all her fresh and smiling -loveliness—pardon my partiality—I was completely -knocked over, so to speak, and couldn’t help a sort of -rapt gaze—as at a wood nymph, which you unkindly -call staring. I fell in love—at first sight as men say—deep, -deeper, miles deep next morning, and so will -remain till my life’s end.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I am afraid it goes rather like that with me, if I -must confess,” admitted Imogen, “though the heroine -of a modern novel would never have behaved so -badly, now would she?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All’s well that ends well,” said the returned -voyager. “I’ll hold the horses while you run in, -Paddy!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The luggage having been taken in, Paddy ascended -nimbly, and drove soberly round to the stable.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Christmas having actually arrived, it was the commencement -of the “season” in Hobart and Tasmania -generally. The dear little island, so true an epitome -of the ancestral isle in the climatic conditions, in the -stubborn independence of the population, in the -incurious, unambitious lives of the rural inhabitants, -was filled with strangers and pilgrims from every -colony in Australasia.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Persons in search of health, haggard men from the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>Queensland “Never Never” country, the far “Bulloo,” -and “The Gulf,” where hostile blacks and fever -decimated the pioneers! Outworn prospectors from -West Australia—a rainless, red-hot, dust-tormented -region, where, incredible as it may appear, the water -is charged for separately as well as the whisky.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Commercial, pastoral and legal magnates, whose -over-taxed brain craved little save rest and coolness—contented -to lie about inhaling the evening breeze—to -read, to fish, to muse, to think maybe, of a -heaven, where lawyers’ clerks, even with briefs, were -not admitted. Sailors too, from the half dozen men -of war from the South Pacific fleet, having a run -ashore, and playing their part nobly, as is their wont -on land, in all picnics, balls and cricket matches, even -in drives to the Huon River nearly fifty miles out -and back. This was rather an object lesson for -British tourists, as to the capabilities of Australian -horses, and Australian drivers, inasmuch as the -leading drag with four horses, hired from a well-known -livery stable proprietor, and driven by a -native-born Tasmanian, negotiated the fifty-mile -stage, allowing two hours for luncheon and boating -on the river, between breakfast time and dusk, the -whole being performed not only without distress to -the well-bred team, but with “safety to the passenger, -and satisfaction to the looker on.” The road was by -no means of average description, far from level, -indeed, having shuddering deeps, where it wound -along hillsides, and sudden turns, and twisted at right -angles, when the leaders ran across a dip in the gully, -which crossed the road, and the wheelers had their -heads turned at right angles to the leaders. Then -<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>the down grade towards the sea, on the return trip, -when the heavily laden coach rolled, lurching at times -near the edge of the precipice, and the “boldest held -their breath for a time.” But through every change, -and doubtful seeming adventure, in darksome forest, -and ferny glade, where the light of heaven was -obscured, the watchful eye and sure hand of the -charioteer guided team and coach, with practised ease -and assured safety.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then the race meeting, to which you went by land -or water, as taste inclined. The deep sea fishing in -the harbour, or the streams so clear and cold in -summer, where the trout lay under bridge or bank, -and when skies were dull, took the fly much as in -Britain.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The hunting with country packs, the shooting, the -long walks over hill and dale—the halts, when a peep -through the forest glades showed a distant view of -the foam-crested ocean! What joyous days were -those, when with Imogen by his side, who walked as -well as she rode and drove, they started with a few -picked friends for that exceptional piece of exercise, -which includes the ascent of Mount Wellington. It -is an Alpine feat, only to be attempted by the young -and vigorous, in the springtime of life. “The way is -long, the mountain steep,” and if limbs and lungs are -not in good order, the pedestrian is sure to tire half -way, to collapse ingloriously before the summit is -reached. Rough in some places is the track—over -the ploughed field’s (so called) painful march. A -sprained ankle may easily result, from a slip, or worse -even, a dislocated knee, most tedious and troublesome -of the minor injuries, and which has lamed for life -<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>ere now the too confident pedestrian. Another -danger to be feared, is the sudden envelopment by -the mountain mist, under the confusing conditions of -which more than one person has lost his way and his -life, perishing in some unnamed retreat. No such -dangers affrighted Imogen and her husband. They -reached the summit, and standing there, hand in hand, -beheld the unrivalled scene. High over forest and -valley they gazed o’er the boundless ocean plain—so -still and shining, three thousand feet below them. -The forest, with apparently a level surface above its -umbrageous eucalypts, looked like a toy shrubbery. -The city nestled between the sea wall and the -enormous mountain bulk, under whose shadow -it lay.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The busy population looked small as the denizens -of a populous anthill. “It is a still day, ‘Grâce à -Dieu,’” said Blount; “there’s no tyrannous south wind -from the ocean—coming apparently straight from the -ice fields of the Pole, to chill us to the bone, and -cause the poor forest trees to cry and groan aloud in -their anguish. Wind has its good points, probably, -but I confess to a prejudice against the Euroclydon -variety. Especially when we are doing this Alpine -business. By the way, there is Mr. Wendover’s delightful -woodland châlet—only a mile away. Suppose -we make a call there.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I scorn to acknowledge myself tired,” said -Imogen; “but raspberries and cream—this <em>is</em> the -season—would be an appropriate incident on this day -of days. They recall the Hermitage, do they not? -I can’t say more.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And Mrs. Wendover is so charmingly hospitable,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>said a girl companion. “She has always the newest -books, and music too, which, with the before-mentioned -raspberries, takes one far in the pursuit of -happiness.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“While youth, and the good digestion which waits -on appetite, last,” said a middle-aged person with a -bright eye and generally alert expression. “Youth -is the great secret. Heaven forbid that any of this -good company should confess to a hint of middle -age, but <em>I</em> have a haunting dread lest the world’s -best joys should be stealing away from me.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Are there not compensations, Captain Warrender?” -asked a lady, whose refined, intellectual cast -of countenance suggested literature. “Think how -delightful to hear of one’s last new book being rushed -for new editions, and simply being devoured all over -the world.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Success is pleasant in whatever state of life it -comes to one, but were I allowed to choose between -reading and writing, my vote would be distinctly in -favour of the former. The delightful self-complacency -with his task which the author of a successful book -is supposed to feel is over-rated, I assure you. It -becomes a task, like all other compulsory labour, and -there are so many times and seasons when one would -much rather do something else. The chief, almost -the only valuable result to the producer (except the -money, which, of course, is not despised) is, that the -reputation of successful authorship brings with it a -host of agreeable acquaintances, and even some true -and lifelong friendships.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Have you found other authors free from envy, -malice, and so forth?” asked Mrs. Allendale.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>“I can truly say that I have, with the rarest -exceptions. Now and then a man writing on party -lines will administer a dose of unkind, perhaps unfair, -criticism which he calls ‘slating’ your book. But -there is little real ill-nature in the article, however -much you may feel annoyed at the time. And the -freemasonry which exists among literary people, -great and small, makes on the whole for friendly -relations. A man says: ‘Oh, you wrote <cite>Cocoanuts -and Cannibals</cite>, didn’t you? Had rather a run when -it came out. Queer place to live in, I should think.’ -Then you foregather, and become, as it were, the -honorary member of a club. Not that one volunteers -this information, but it leaks out.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, here is the châlet gate, and I see Mrs. -Wendover’s pet Jersey cow, ‘Lily Langtry,’” said -Miss Chetwynde. “How nice she looks among the -red and white clover. Puts one in mind of dear old -England, doesn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Where you never were,” laughed another maiden -of the happy isle.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I know that, but I’ve read so much about the -grand old country that I can fancy everything. -Dear Miss Mitford! what a lovely touch she has! -I shall go there some day if I live. In the meantime -here comes Mrs. Wendover, all smiles, welcome, and -a picture hat, dear creature! I wonder what Miss -Mitford would have thought of this forest, which -comes up so close to the house, if she had seen it. -I should be afraid of a fire some day.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! our forests don’t burn so badly, even when -they are on fire; this place is safe enough. Sunburn -is our worst danger just now, and there’s the naval -<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>ball this evening. My cheeks <em>are</em> on fire, just feel -them.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, certainly, Miss Chetwynd!” said a small -middy, who was of the party. “Anything else I -can do for you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I was not speaking to you, Mr. Harcourt. I was -replying to Clara Mildmay, and I shall cancel that -dance I promised you this evening if you’re not more -respectful.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh, here you are!” cried Mrs. Wendover, in -accents of genuine welcome. “This is the most lucky -chance. You must all positively stay to lunch. I -was getting tired of my own company for once in a -way. John had sent a messenger to say that he -would not come out till the evening. So you are -evidently sent by Allah to cheer my loneliness.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We should all be charmed,” replied Imogen, -taking her place as chief chaperon, “but it is simply -impossible. Captain Warrender will tell you that we -are all going to the naval ball this evening, and by -the time we get to Hobart we sha’n’t have a minute -to spare, to dress in time and get the sunburn off -our faces.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then you must come in and have raspberries and -cream. It’s quite a charity to take them off our -hands. Walter and Nora and I are going to the -ball too, so I must insist.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Cooled and refreshed, indeed invigorated by the -raspberries and Jersey cream, with suitable accompaniments, -the jocund crew bade adieu to their -hostess, and trooped off to the Fairy Bower, that -fern-shaded trysting place in the heart of the forest, -dear to so many generations of holiday folk, where -<span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>the four-in-hand drag awaited them by the fountain, -and bore them safely to their several destinations. -The naval ball was a pronounced success. Could -it be otherwise “manned” by the officers of the -half-dozen men-of-war then in harbour? The band, -the waiters at the buffet, the assistants who held the -dividing line in the ball-room, the attendants at the -doors of the supper-room, were all in uniform, while -the epaulettes and profusion of gold lace lit up the -mass of civilian costumes. It was a contention -seriously debated at the time, and never satisfactorily -settled, as to whom the honour of being the belle of -the ball should be awarded. But all agreed that the -crown of the Queen of Beauty, if there had been a -tournament, as in the days of chivalry, at which to -present it, should have been awarded either to Mrs. -Blount (<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">née</span></i> Imogen Carrisforth) or to Miss Leslie, -a native-born Tasmanian, whose complexion was -held to be unapproachable south of the Line, and -whose pre-eminence in loveliness had never before -been disputed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Each had their partisans, sworn admirers and -liegemen. Each was declared to be the prettiest -girl, or the handsomest woman in Australasia—for -the New Zealand competitor “took a lot of beating,” -as an ardent youthful admirer phrased it. It remained, -however, undecided, and will probably be -revived, like other vexed questions from time to time, -with similar lack of finality. As to one thing, however, -the unanimity was pronounced and decisive—the -success of the entertainment. When “God Save -the Queen” was played, it was nearer three o’clock -in the morning than two, and all but the most inveterate -<span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>dancers had had enough of it. Some of -the junior division indeed petitioned for just one -more waltz and a galop; but discipline being the -soul of the navy, as well as the army, the Admiral’s -fiat had decided the matter irrevocably. Carriages -were ordered, shawls and wraps were donned by the -matrons and maids who had “seen it out,” as their -partners expressed it, and the curtain fell upon one -of the most successful comedies or melodramas, as -the case may be, still popular, as in old historic days, -on the mirthful, mournful, but ever mysterious stage -of human life.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After this crowning joy came a succession of <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">fêtes</span></i>. -Meetings of the Racing and Polo Clubs, with a gymkhana -arranged by the latter society, also picnics and -private parties, the Garden Party in the lovely -grounds of Government House, where that befitting -architectural ornament overlooks the broad winding -reaches of the Derwent. All these had to be attended -and availed of. The great events of the Polo -Club, in “potato and bucket” race, when the competitors -were compelled to dismount, pick up a -potato from the ground and deposit the same in a -bucket, placed for the purpose; as also the tandem -race, when the aspirant riding one horse, had to -drive another, with long reins, before him, also to -negotiate a winding in and out course, before returning -to the starting point, were both won by an active -young squatter from the Upper Sturt, to the unconcealed -joy of Mrs. Bruce and Imogen, the latter race, -indeed, after a very close finish with a naval officer, -who was the recognised champion at this and other -gymkhana contests. But won it was, by the pastoral -<span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>champion, though only by a nose. So after an -inquiry meeting by the committee of the club, it was -to him adjudged, and the trophy borne off in triumph. -It is not to be supposed that the squirearchy of the land -was unrepresented at these Isthmian Games, or that -under such circumstances they left their wives and -daughters, aunts and cousins behind; or, if such an -unnatural piece of selfishness had been for a moment -contemplated, that the women of the land would not -have organised a revolt, declared a republic, elected a -president, and marched down with banners flying to -invest the capital, and make their own terms with -the terrified Government of the day. No such -Amazonian action was, happily, rendered necessary -by sins of omission or commission on the part of -their liege lords or legal protectors.</p> - -<p class='c008'>That they had sufficient courage and martial -spirit for such an <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">émeute</span></i>, no one doubted. But with -the exception of a quasi-warlike observation by a -Tasmanian girl, on beholding the phalanx of alien -beauty arrayed at the naval ball, that on the next -occasion of the sort she intended to bring her gun -and shoot a girl or two “from across the Straits” by -way of warning, no specific action was taken.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So the old antagonism (veiled, of course, and conventional) -that has existed between the home-grown and -the imported feminine product, was conducted with -discreet diplomacy, and the admirers of Helen or -Briseis had to content themselves with displaying -personal or conversational superiority in lieu of lethal -weapons.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So on the ground in drags, mail phaetons, buggies -and dogcarts of the period, the female contingent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>arrived, chiefly before the first gun of the engagement -metaphorically aroused the echoes in the glens and -forest glades around Mount Wellington. The Hollywood -Hall family was fully represented, the Claremonts, -the Bowyers. The magnate of Holmby, -Mr. Dick Dereker, in all his glory, had deposited himself -and his most intimate friend, John Hampden, a -new arrival from England, at the club, and was daily -to be viewed by the admiring population of Hobart in -Davey or Macquarie Street in company with other -stars of the social firmament. Mr. Blount noticed -with interest the extraordinary popularity which -encircled this favourite of fortune in the chief city of -his native land. As he walked down the street it was -a kind of royal progress. He was the people’s idol, -the uncrowned king of the happy isle. Men of note -and standing crossed over to greet and shake hands -with him. Even the shady characters had a soft spot -in their hardened hearts for “Dicky Dereker.” Why -was this adulation? Other country gentlemen were -handsome and chivalrous. All of them rode, drove, -shot well; they, like him, had been born “in the -island,” and as such had the claims of a patriot for -the suffrages of their countrymen.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But the difficulty was to find all these virtues, -personal recommendations, gifts and graces, centred -in one individual. The popular verdict so declared -it. And if the “classes and the masses” in Tasmania -had been polled as to his fitness for any post of -eminence, from the vice-regal administrator of the -government downward, every man, woman and child -in the island would have gone “solid” for “Dicky -Dereker.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>Of this resistless, all-conquering sway, Mr. Blount -was shortly to have proof and confirmation, had such -been needed. Sooth to say, he felt more than slight -misgivings; indeed, something near to what is called -an accusing conscience, with respect to his marked -attentions to and quasi-friendship for Laura Claremont -on the occasion of his last visit to Hollywood -Hall. He was then (it may be stated for the defence) -in the somewhat perilous position of having been -warned off, as he considered it, by the family at -Marondah, and was thus unprovided with an attraction -of counterbalancing interest. “Full many a -heart is caught on the rebound,” and doubtless the -sympathetic manner and intellectual superiority of -Laura Claremont, combined with her personal endowments, -constituted a strong case for the unattached, -unprotected stranger. When he returned to Tasmania, -bringing his bride with him radiant with the overflowing -happiness of the recent honeymoon, would -the sympathetic “friend” in whose society he had so -openly delighted look coldly upon him? Would <em>her</em> -friends and compatriots combine to denounce him as -an unworthy trifler, who, after paying compromising -attentions, not only “rode away,” but married a -former flame, not even permitting a decent interval to -elapse between his preference for the old love and -desertion of the new?</p> - -<p class='c008'>Much troubled by these considerations he had even -thought over an indirect way of breaking the news, in -a non-committal way, to the young lady, and her -(perhaps) justly incensed family and friends.</p> - -<p class='c008'>But <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">qui s’excuse s’accuse</span></i> recurred to his mind with -painful promptitude. So, fortunately (as it turned -<span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span>out), he decided to trust to time and chance for extrication -from the dilemma. For, as he was entering -the hospitable portal of the Tasmanian Club, with a -view to luncheon and the later news items, he was joined -by Claude Clinton, who at once questioned him as to -subscriptions for the forthcoming ball, given by the -members and players of the polo club. “How many -tickets shall I send you? They’re a guinea for men -and half as much for ladies; and have you heard the -last engagement? No? It was only given out this -morning. Laura Claremont has made up her mind at -last; Dick Dereker is the happy man!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Send me a dozen tickets,” said Mr. Blount, who -felt like John Bunyan after his burden of sins had -been removed. “They have my heartiest congratulations.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All right,” said the omnipotent Secretary for Home -Affairs; “by the way, wasn’t the fair Laura rather a -friend of yours? The Tenby girls thought you were -making strong running at the Hollywood Ball.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Every man of sense and taste must admire Miss -Claremont,” he replied with diplomatic gravity, masking, -however, emotions of such intensity that he had -some difficulty in preserving calmness. “I was no -exception to the rule, that was all.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Perhaps it helped to bring Master Dick to the -scratch—the affair has been going on for years; if so, -you did her a service. Dick is a splendid fellow, but -when a man has a whole island to pick from he feels -inclined to dally with a decision. However, they are -to be married at once—before the House meets—not to -let the honeymoon interfere with his legislative duties.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I am delighted to hear it,” Mr. Blount affirmed, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>with such evident sincerity that Mr. Clinton departed -to overtake his multifarious duties, with the conviction -that he was a fine, large-hearted, generous personage, -as well in the matter of ball subscriptions as in the -more romantic passages of life’s mystery. The young -lady referred to had not come down to the naval ball -for reasons of her own, or otherwise, the Squire’s -health requiring her attendance upon him at the Hall. -Such, at any rate, was the explanation given by the -family friends:—“Dear Laura was <em>so</em> attached to her -father, and so self-denying and conscientious in the -discharge of her duties.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Some of the frivolous division, perhaps a trifle impatient -of perpetual proclamation of “Aristides the -Just,” hinted that there <em>is</em> such a device known to the -female heart—inscrutable as are its myriad emotions -and minor tendencies—as the encouragement of a -fervent admirer, up to a certain point, for the stimulation -of a laggard lover, the adorer No. 2 being known -in the unstudied phrase as the “runner up.” However -that may have been, Mr. Blount took care to -communicate the momentous intelligence to his wife -and sister-in-law immediately upon his arrival at -home. Mrs. Blount, with natural curiosity, expressed -a wish to see this wonderful Laura Claremont—whom -everybody praised and indeed referred to as one of -the few girls in the island worthy of Dick Dereker. -“I suspect <em>you</em> flirted with her on that driving tour—and -at the ball too—you lost your card, I remember. -Now confess!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“She is a very fine girl—dark, and stately-looking. -Every one admires her, but as for comparing her, <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">et -cetera</span></i>, the idea is preposterous.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>“He hadn’t got our letters then, poor fellow!” -said Imogen, who, fortunately, was not of a jealous -disposition. “So if he made ever such a little swerve -from what is called the path of duty I suppose I must -forgive him. You won’t do so again, sir, I’ll see to -that!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I hope you and Miss Claremont will be <em>great</em> -friends. She is just the sort of woman you would -like. I’ll make a point of introducing you at the -Polo Ball. Here are the tickets, and a few to -spare.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You have been most generous,” said Mrs. Bruce. -“I’ll keep three for Edward, myself, and a friend, if -one turns up. I daresay we shall find one or two.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, take half; I bought them for the family. -Perhaps some of the Upper Sturt people may turn -up.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Quite likely,” said Imogen; “perhaps even from -Bunjil! Oh, dear! what fun that would be!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I know what you are laughing at,” said her sister. -“Do you see her joke, Val?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not in the least. Let us share it, Mrs. Bruce.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It is a good joke,” said that merry matron, going -off again into fits of laughter; “but I shall not tell -you just yet. It is a secret.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The male relative looked puzzled, admitting that -the solution was beyond him; at which stage it -seemed destined to remain.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER XI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>A description</span> of “the season” in Hobart, whether -regarded as a summer land for tourists, a safe run -ashore for the men and officers of the South Pacific -“fleet in being” detailed at Hobart, or as an object -lesson for untravelled inhabitants—would seem to -consist mainly of a record of recreational events. A -list of picnics and pleasure parties, driving and fishing -excursions, with pedestrian rambles—chiefly by day, -but occasionally <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">au clair de la lune</span></i>.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The rivers named after Messrs. Brown and Huon, -long dead celebrities, received more than their share -of patronage, it would seem, in the entertainment of -reckless revellers, whose polo meets and gymkhanas -alternated with the legitimate annual races and -steeplechases.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There must have been business transactions, but -they were eluded or postponed—the only exception -being the Great Silver Bonanza, which kept its bond-slaves -hard at work, by means of remuneration on -the higher scale. Night and day, work proceeded with -the regularity of one of its own steam-engines. The -Hobart weather was delightful—occasionally threatening -rain but chiefly relenting, and ending towards the -close of day with soft and cooling sea breezes, which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_344'>344</span>refreshed the pleasure-driven crowds to the inmost -fibre of the nervous system.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In all these ingenious projects for lessening the strain -upon the minds and bodies of ordinary humanity the -officers and men of H.M. Royal Navy were conspicuously -effective. At all aristocratic entertainments -“Man-of-War Jack” was utilised to keep the -gangways clear, to hold the rope of division in the -ball-room, and otherwise, as “the handy man,” in -spotless array, to display his disciplined alertness. -Even the naval Church parade was attended by the -fair ones of perhaps the last night’s entertainment. -On each Sunday morning, therefore, boat-loads of -worshippers, in silk or muslin, might be descried -crossing the waters of the harbour, rowed by an -ample crew, under the charge of an all-important -middy, to the flag-ship or frigate, where divine -service was celebrated by the Chaplain of the Fleet, -or other amphibious clergyman, provided by the -Lords of the Admiralty.</p> - -<p class='c008'>In this sense, perhaps, the gay season of Hobart -constituted a social federation of the Australasian -States, when other matters, not of ephemeral weight, -might be suitably discussed. From the wave-beaten -isles of New Zealand, where the mountain-crested -billows rolled on their stormy march from the ice-fields -of the ultimate pole, to the mangrove-bordered -marshes of Northern Queensland; from the “Never-Never -country” and the “back blocks”; from “the -Gulf” and the buffalo lands of Essington and Darwin, -came languid, fever-stricken squatters, to breathe the -cool air of this southern Lotus Land, differing among -themselves in minor respects as to manner, accent, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span>stature and ordinary habitude, but in heart and brain, -British to the core. Roving sons of the Great Mother -Land, holding God’s Commission of the strong hand, -the steadfast brain, to occupy the Waste Places of -the earth and develop their inborn trend towards -justice and mercy, law and order. With such inherited -gifts, going forth conquering, and to conquer, to weld -into one solid, enduring fabric, the Empire of Britain. -Thus, handing down to their children’s children lands -of freedom “broad-based upon the people’s will,” -where equal laws administered with moderation and -mercy are to be the heritage of England’s sons. The -Greater Britains of the South, for all time; and -whether in peace or war, loyal, self-contained, -immovable, one and indivisible.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The great event of the season was to be the Polo -Ball, looked forward to with almost feverish eagerness, -not only by the young men and maidens of the -Happy Isle, but by the large important contingents -from abroad, which exceeded in number, and social -value, those of any previous year. Hence applications -for tickets were beyond all calculation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Requests, even entreaties poured in, almost until -the opening of the doors of the great hall secured -for the function. Claude Clinton was, as he said, -“walked off his legs,” having indeed hardly time to -dress and eat his dinner, while the committee, who -had the onerous and responsible task of deciding -upon the fitness of applicants, had to improvise a late -sitting, so as not to disappoint the arrivals by the train -from Launceston, just landed from the New Zealand -Company’s extra service boat, the <i>Rotorua</i>. The funds -of the Club, however, would be benefited to such an -<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>extent, that the secretary and committee worked -loyally till the last moment, and when Mr. Clinton -had given a last authoritative order, and made a final -inspection of the decorations, he sat down to his -dinner at the Travellers’ Club, and drank his pint of -champagne with a conviction that everything had -been done to deserve success, and that the issue lay -with Fate.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Imogen had condescended to inform her relations -that a friend of hers had arrived from Melbourne, -who, having made up her mind at the last moment, -would dress and join their party after dining at the -Orient Hotel, where rooms had been secured for her -previously.</p> - -<p class='c008'>She had written confidentially to Mr. Clinton and -had her name properly submitted to and passed by -the committee. All was arranged, and she would go -under Imogen’s chaperonage to the ball, and perhaps -stay with them all night.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What is her name? Do I know her, Imogen?” -inquired her husband. “You are very mysterious, -my dear!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You have seen her, she tells me, but I am not -certain whether you will recognise her. She comes -from some place near Adelong in New South Wales; -her people used to live in Tumut.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then the probability is that she will be good-looking,” -said Mr. Blount. “Some of the handsomest -girls I ever saw came from that sequestered spot. -However, we must wait till she shows up. Was she -a schoolfellow of yours?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No, not exactly, but I knew her when she was -younger. You will know all about her when the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>time comes. I feel desperately hungry, after this -exciting day. Oh, I hear the dinner gong.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The dinner was not unduly prolonged, as any one of -experience in the anxieties and precautions which precede -such an important function will understand. So -that after an adjournment to the drawing-room, when, -about nine o’clock, the maid delivered a message, <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sotto -voce</span></i>, to Mrs. Imogen, who forthwith left the room, -everyone revolved great expectations. These were -chiefly realised, when the hostess reappeared, accompanied -by a tall, handsome, exceedingly well-dressed -girl, who blushed and smiled, as she was introduced to -the company as “Miss Maguire of Warranbeen.” -“Very pleased to meet you, Miss Maguire,” began -Blount, but, with a sudden alteration of tone and -manner, “Why, it’s Sheila! by all the Powers, what -a transformation!” as Mrs. Bruce shook her warmly -by the hand, while Imogen stood by her charge, -apparently charmed with the metamorphosis which -leisure, the use and reputation of “money” had -effected in the unformed country girl, so lately the -“maid of the Inn,” at the secluded village of Bunjil, -on the Upper Sturt.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You didn’t know me, Mr. Blount, I could see -that. I had half a mind to ask you what you’d -like for breakfast. I’m turned into a young lady, -nowadays, you see! And Mrs. Blount, in her great -kindness, persuaded me to come to the ball to-night, -with her and Mrs. Bruce. I’ve been to the Show -Ball at Wagga, and one or two in Tumut, by way of -a start. But this is such a grand affair; I feel -frightened.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I am sure, Sheila, you have no cause to be,” said -<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>Mrs. Bruce, reassuringly; “you native girls can all -dance—it seems an instinct; your dress is charming, -and you will gather confidence as the ball goes on—and -your card is filled. You are a mysterious -stranger, for the present. That alone will be an -attraction. We’ll see to your introductions; and -there are naval men in profusion.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I like sailors,” said Sheila, “they are so unaffected -and jolly, put on no side” (she had been at a country -ball at the age of sixteen, to which the officers of a -man-of-war, then in Sydney, had been bidden by a -liberal-minded squatter, who had invited the whole of -the “township” inhabitants, in one act, and a great -success it was), for Sheila bore about with her for all -time the memory of two polkas, a waltz, and a galop -danced with the Honourable Mr. de Bracy, midshipman -of the period, to their mutual satisfaction and -enjoyment.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I think you will have your share of partners, -Sheila,” said her hostess; “you certainly do credit to -your dressmaker, and the Upper Sturt complexion -will give you a chance with these Tasmanian girls, -who are justly celebrated for theirs.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What a transformation!” said Blount to his wife, -before they put on their wraps. “I never could have -believed it. Of course she has fined down since the -Bunjil days. I believe old Barney sold a Queensland -station, with 30,000 head of cattle, just before the -seasons turned dry. So she and her sister are considerable -heiresses. She has, as you see, self-possession, -and sense enough to avoid anything <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">outré</span></i>.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’ll see she’ll get on quite well—make a success, -indeed. People say money isn’t everything; but it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>goes a long way in this, or any other country, -especially combined with looks, and other good -qualities. You had better dance the opening set of -lancers with her for a start.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mrs. Imogen’s predictions were verified. There -was a certain amount of romantic interest attached -to the fresh-looking, handsome stranger, reputed -wealthy, and who danced so well. “Came, too” -(people said), “with that nice, high-bred-looking Mrs. -Bruce and the bride.” She danced the first lancers -with Mr. Blount, and while exhibiting familiarity with -the figures, moved with the graceful indifference -which has succeeded the erstwhile precision with -which the “steps” were anciently performed. Mr. -Blount managed to secure an early waltz, and the -naval men coming by shiploads, as it appeared to -her, Sheila’s programme was filled in no time.</p> - -<p class='c008'>That there could not have been a better ball, all -the authorities combined to declare. The ever-successful -secretary and plenipotentiary had once -more covered himself with glory; the arrangements -were perfect, the supper was “a dream,” and when -Sheila found herself taken in by the Captain of the -flag-ship, the Admiral and the Governor being in -the immediate vicinity, she wondered whether she -was likely to fall down in a fit, or if some other -kind of death would result from such an overflowing -flood of triumphant, ecstatic bliss.</p> - -<p class='c008'>However, she did not die, or indeed was she likely -to perish of nervous excitement consequent on pure, -unadulterated pleasure; the early bush-training, together -with a naturally good constitution, would -always preserve her from such an untimely fate.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span>Imogen was carefully, prudently, introduced to -Miss Laura Claremont, who prophesied that they -would be great friends, and invited her and her sister -to Hollywood. Both of which Imogen accepted -conditionally on her husband’s—she laid a slight -emphasis upon that very possessive word—“on her -husband’s not being hurried away by Mr. Frampton -to that horrid Zeehan.” The Upper Sturt party, as -we may for convenience describe them, got their full -share of partners it may be believed, being all of the -age when, if there be an ear for music, and a terpsichorean -taste “what time the raving polka spins -adown the rocking floor,” with good music, suitable -partners, and a smooth surface, nothing much better -among the lighter enjoyments of life is to be found. -With Miss Claremont Blount had danced before, -when their steps appeared to suit extremely well. -On this occasion, he saw no reason why he should -deny himself the fleeting indulgence of once more -gliding and sliding about with her in the accepted -fashion.</p> - -<p class='c008'>She graciously acceded to his request for an after -supper dance, and in one of the partly deserted side-rooms -they came to a mutual understanding, which -each felt was more or less needed.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I owe you a few words,” she said, “if our friendship -is to continue—and I should be sorry for it to -end abruptly. It appears to me that we were both -in an exceptional state of mind when we met at -Hollywood for the first time, and if something had -not happened—which <em>did</em> happen—one of us would -have felt a right to blame the other.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You have stated the position most fairly,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>“I hope you don’t think I am so logical,” she replied, -“as to be deficient in feeling. Believe me when I -tell you”—and here her dark eyes glowed with a -transient gleam of hidden fire, which he had never -before noticed in them—“I don’t exaggerate when I -say that it was a fateful crisis, such as I had never -before experienced.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It was most truly a supreme moment in <em>my</em> -destiny,” he replied, as she faltered and then stopped, -overcome by emotion.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But, let me go on, I entreat, to make open and full -confession, for I can never recur to the subject, and I -trust you to make a similar promise.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“It is given,” said Blount in all sincerity.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Then,” said Miss Claremont, “I will not deny -that I was attracted to you at our first meeting, more, -perhaps, than towards any man whom I had ever met, -with one exception. You were different from any -one with whom I had previously come into contact. -This impression was confirmed as we saw more of -each other. I recognised your mental qualities. I -approved highly of your opinions, your personal -attributes and general character appealed to me -strongly. My heart was in an unsettled state; I was -weary of waiting, and began to doubt whether -Richard Dereker, with whom I had been in love ever -since I could remember, intended to declare himself. -I am not believed to be impulsive, but, under certain -conditions, am very much so.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“All women are,” interjected Blount.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Possibly; but let me finish;” and she hurried on—her -voice changed from the deliberate calmness -with which she usually spoke, to a hurried monotone—“If -<span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span>you had proposed to me that night, I should -have consented, I believe. But your departure next -morning gave me time to reflect; saved me, most -likely, both of us, from life-long incompleteness, -which, to a woman at least, means settled unhappiness. -Then, just after you left, my fairy prince -‘made up his mind,’ as people say, and I am the -happiest girl in Tasmania. I need not ask about -your feeling—it is written in large print over both of -you, and—here she comes! I don’t wonder.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I was in a most forlorn and wretched state,” said -Blount, “when you took pity on me and healed my -wounds by your sympathetic kindness. Never think -you could have done me an injury—and you must let -me say, even under our changed conditions, that <em>I</em> -should not have been a life-long sufferer. But, as in -your case, the fairy princess was persuaded of her -knight’s fidelity; the falsehoods set about by enemies -were disproved, and the castle rang with troubadour -ballads, and the usual merry-making, when the -‘traitours and faitours’ were put in their proper -places; and so the incident is closed, and in all -gratitude and enduring friendship it is a case of ‘as -you were.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes; I know, I know,” said the fair Laura; “no -more protestations, or else your wife will require -explanations, too. Who is the very handsome damsel -she has with her?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well; a great friend of mine, who stood by me -staunchly in my tribulations and rendered me timely -aid. She is a New South Wales heiress. I will tell -you about her another time.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We have been looking for you, Miss Claremont,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>said Imogen. “I was anxious to introduce my friend, -Miss Maguire, a friend of my husband’s, too, who did -him important service at a critical juncture without -which (between you and me) things might have -turned out differently.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Mr. Blount gave me to understand as much,” said -Miss Claremont, “and I am most happy to welcome -any friend of yours or his to our island home. I -hope you have enjoyed yourself, Miss Maguire?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“More than I ever did in my life before,” said -Sheila, with such evident sincerity, that no one could -help smiling. “I think the people here are the -kindest and pleasantest I ever met. I have often -heard of Hobart hospitality, but never expected to -find it anything like this.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I hope we shall continue to deserve such a good -character. Strangers do generally approve of us, -and there is no doubt we are always delighted to see -them. I suppose we ought to make a move, Mrs. -Blount, I see Richard looking out anxiously for me. -We must all go and thank Claude Clinton if he isn’t -dead with fatigue. We owe a great deal to him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That we do,” said Sheila, naïvely, “he told me he -had been hard at work since daylight, arranging -thousands of things. Poor fellow! I quite pitied -him. I was nearly offering to help with the supper—I -am supposed to be clever in that line.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You might have come off as well as the girl who -volunteered to take the parlourmaid’s place when her -sister was short of one at a big dinner, and afterwards -married a baronet with ten thousand a year, -who thought she said ‘Sherry, sir?’ so nicely!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I see Claude Clinton over there,” interposed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>Blount, who thought the situation was becoming -critical. “He’ll be fast asleep if we don’t go and pelt -him with congratulations. Say something nice to -him, Sheila!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“That I will,” said she, with effusion, “I quite love -him for his kind-heartedness.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re not the only grateful one,” said Miss -Claremont, “but you’ll have to wait your turn. Dick -must make a speech, and we’ll all say Amen.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ll do anything if you’ll come home,” said that -gentleman. “You girls would stay till daylight, I -believe. Claude, my boy! come here and be publicly -thanked. These ladies have constituted themselves -a deputation and wish to assure you that this is the -best ball they ever were at in their lives; that it -wouldn’t have been half as good but for you; that -they will be everlastingly grateful for the perfect -arrangements you have made. Miss Maguire can’t -express her feelings in words, but is most anxious -to—”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! Mr. Dereker!” cried Sheila, blushing to the -roots of her hair, “pray don’t—Oh!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Don’t interrupt. She’s most anxious to say -‘Amen.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Amen!” said Sheila, gravely, and evidently much -relieved.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“For what we have received, etc., etc.,” continued -Mr. Dereker. “Now for shawls and the carriage. Can -we set you down at the club, Claude? And you can -make a suitable reply on the way.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Possibly he did, as he was wedged in, close to -Sheila, and what he had to say was in a softly, -murmurous tone; akin to that of the surges on the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span>shore, which the silence of the summer night made -clearly audible.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>After the triumphant success of the ball, other -entertainments followed in quick succession, in which -the visitors, civil, naval and military, vied with each -other in keeping up the excitement, so that the -season of 18— was long known as the most successful, -harmonious, and generally mirthful period -recorded in Tasmanian annals. Races, regattas, -picnics, gymkhanas, were in turn attended by crowds -of visitors from all the colonies.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Of four-in-hand drags there was quite a procession. -Agriculture was prospering. Stock was high in price -and quality. Mining operations and investments not -only in this, but in all the other colonies, were -phenomenally payable. The financial glow shed by -the ever increasing, almost fabulous yield of the -Comstock, and of the great copper and tin mines, -Mount Lyell and Mount Bischoff, gave a magical -lustre to all monetary transactions. A kind of -Arabian Nights’ glamour was cast over the existence -of the dwellers in the land, and of all the excited -crowds who had hurried to the favoured isle, where -Aladdin’s Cave seemed suddenly to have opened its -treasure chambers in real life and in broad day, to the -favoured inhabitants of the Far South Isle.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Foremost among the gay throngs who seemed bent -upon taking fullest advantage of the revelries of the -period—so appropriate, so suitable, so thoroughly in -harmony with the spirit of the hour, were the festive -celebrities of the Victorian party, by which name -they began to be known.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_356'>356</span>Mr. Blount had no notion of receiving all the -benefits of his newly acquired possessions without -doing something in requital. His liberality was unbounded. -He subscribed generously to all charitable -societies and local institutions. He gave picnics, -dances and fishing parties. He even went the length -of chartering a steamer and carrying off a large -fashionable party to the weird, gloomy solitudes of -Macquarie Harbour.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Here the frolic-minded crowd found their spirits -lowered, and their imagination darkly disturbed, as -they roamed amid the ruinous prison-houses, where -rotting timbers told the tale of long neglect; of fast-fading -memories of crime and suffering. They gazed -on the immense, tenantless buildings, with hundreds -of cubicles, the mouldering walls, roofless and ivy-grown, -the church where it was deemed that the -wretches whose lives were one long foretaste of hell, -might be turned to hopes of Heaven, after completing -a life of imprisonment, torture and despair. Vehicles -were in attendance, besides saddle-horses and guides, -under whose safe conduct the revellers made their -way to the silent, deserted settlement, whence long -ago the ghastly procession of chained men marched -at morn to commence each day—a day in which -they cursed their birth hour at dawn and eve, ending -it by trusting that each night might be their -last. The visitors trod the rotting planks of the stage, -where fierce dogs had bayed and torn at their chains, -as they scented the escaping convict—where more -than one such desperate felon had been literally torn -in pieces, or escaped the hounds to die a more terrible -death amid the sharks which swarmed around the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_357'>357</span>pier. These and other relics of the bad old days of -mystery and fear, having been shudderingly regarded -by the awed and whispering company, the <i>Albatross</i> -departed with a fair wind, a smooth sea, and her much -relieved visitors, who,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Ignorant of ‘man’s’ cruelty,</div> - <div class='line'>Marvelled such relics here should be.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>Yet as the stars came out and sat upon thrones, -looking with sleepless eyes upon the shadowy outlines -of the darksome forest and the savage coast, -a wailing nightwind arose sounding as a ghostly -accompaniment to the dirge-like murmur of the great -army of the dead—buried and unburied—around the -accursed charnel-houses, which had polluted even -that Dantean wilderness!</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! let us get away from this dreadful place!” -said Imogen, clinging to her husband’s arm, “and I -vote against seeing any other Chamber of Horrors. -We come to Hobart for rest and pleasure while this -halcyon season lasts. Let us not sadden our souls by -one thought of the terrors in which this place is -steeped. I should like to blot out their very memory -and consume the relics off the face of the earth.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>It must not be considered, either, that the “Truce -of God” (as cessation of siege or battle was -medievally termed), which the Happy Isle proclaimed -to the war-worn denizens of other colonies, less -happily situated for rest and recreation, was entirely -devoted to Play. This year was the session, wisely -ordained as fitting in with the general vacation, for -the meeting of the Society for the Advancement of -Science.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_358'>358</span>Hither came, therefore, to leaven the ordinary -frivolities, learned professors from Australasian -universities, legal luminaries, judges, the Q.C. and -the rising barrister, mercantile magnates, statisticians -of world-wide fame, even, indeed, Sir Gregory Gifford, -also Sir Harold Harfager, an ex-Proconsul of our -Indian empire. They were vice-regal guests. Minor -luminaries, such as authors, war correspondents, -politicians, home-grown and foreign—in fact almost -all the men of “light and leading” were represented -at this unique gathering. Missionaries from far -Pacific Isles, who had faced cannibal hordes, and -heard the yell from crowded war canoes, when -poisoned arrows were in the air. They had their -philological treasures and hard-won trophies to -exhibit. The crowded lecture rooms testified to the -interest taken in the soldiers of the Army of Peace. -To add to the satisfaction with which the various -excitements and entertainments were availed of by -the party from the Upper Sturt, it so chanced that, in -consequence of the favourable seasons Edward Bruce -was enabled to join them a month earlier than he had -expected. He was, moreover, in excellent spirits, -openly avowing his intention to devote his stay in -Hobart to pleasure unalloyed, as compensation for -his late pastoral anxieties. He was not contented, -however, after a fortnight’s “idlesse,” without organising -a trip to The Mine, which had lately so developed -in wealth, prestige, and reputation, that it was -difficult to say whether it belonged to Tasmania or -Tasmania belonged to it.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Everything and everybody appeared to be in a -state of unprecedented prosperity in that happy and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span>care-free <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">annus mirabilis</span></i> if ever there was one. -Mrs. Bruce and Imogen mildly reproached Bruce for -being in such a hurry to leave his family after so long -an absence, and what was worse, carrying off -Imogen’s husband. However, he, a man of unresting -energy and enterprise, declared that he could -not stand any more of this lotus-eating life, and that -if he did not get away out to the mine, he would -have to return to Marondah.</p> - -<p class='c008'>At this dreadful threat Mrs. Bruce capitulated, -fearing a premature departure from this land of -Utopian delights, where the children were improving -so fast, and gaining a reserve of vigour impossible in -a hotter climate. This consideration, in the devoted -mother’s eyes, overbore all others, and caused her to -look philosophically upon the proposed expedition—which -was accordingly decided upon, and a day fixed -for the start, the which came off without accident -or delay.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>It may be doubted whether, except in theatrical -stage life, anything surpasses in rapidity of transformation -the change from a fragment of the primeval -wilderness into a thickly populated town, founded on -a gold or silver field of proved richness. Macadamised -streets and level footpaths take the place of -miry dray tracks and sloughs of despond. So was -it in the city of Comstock. Handsome hotels and -shop fronts, with plate glass windows, had succeeded -weatherboard and slab shanties with bark roofs. -The electric light in globe and street lamps shed its -searching radiance through main thoroughfare and -alley.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>The diurnal coach, by which our travellers arrived, -was well horsed and punctual to a fault. The police -magistrate and warden of goldfields, assisted by a -strong body of police, preserved order and punished -evil-doers with such deterrent strictness that offences -against the laws were almost unknown. A municipality, -with mayor, councillors, and aldermen had -been formed after the British pattern. Thus the -foundations of earliest English law had been laid, -and as the erstwhile barren, hopeless lodge in the -wilderness increased in wealth and population, so the -State, “broad based upon the people’s will,” emerged -ready made, only awaiting that gradual development -which comes instinctively in Anglo-Saxon communities, -to pass from the rude stage of the mining camp -to the perfected organisation of the city. It was -soon made apparent to the party that Hobart was -not the only place where public entertainments and -festive gatherings were to be found. The mayor -and corporation of Comstock, waiting upon the -distinguished visitors, whose arrival was duly chronicled -in the <cite>Clarion</cite>, invited them to a formal -banquet, where champagne in profusion was exhibited, -and the health of their guests proposed by the mayor, -Mr. Frampton Tregonwell, who made honourable -mention of that distinguished pastoralist and explorer, -Mr. Edward Hamilton Bruce.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Before this function they had been taken to the -lower levels of the mine, when the “drives” being -lighted up, and a few judiciously selected masses of -“native silver” and malachite looked up for the -occasion, Mr. Bruce formed the opinion that he stood -in a “quarry” of one of the chief precious metals. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_361'>361</span>Being a man of business habits, as well as of pastoral -experience, he took the opportunity, under Mr. -Tregonwell’s authority, to inspect the accounts of -the Company, and, after examining the astonishing -values of crude and treated ore, he came to the -conclusion that his sister-in-law (untoward as had -been the early stages of their acquaintance) had -displayed the unerring instinct with which her sex -is credited in her venture in the matrimonial lottery. -The audit demonstrated the cheering fact that an -income of from ten to twenty thousand a year was -assured to each of the four original shareholders in -this most fortunate enterprise.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I suppose you and Imogen will be taking a trip -home in a few months?” he said. “With all this -money, and the prospects of the season in London, -Australia will lose some of its interest.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Such is our intention; unless anything unforeseen -comes in the way after the Hobart season has come -to an end and you good folks have wended your way -back to the Upper Sturt, I think of taking our -passage by the first P. and O. steamer from Sydney.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Won’t it be rather cold to arrive in England so -early in the year?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“We propose to stay a month or two in Cairo on -the way, refreshing our memories of the <cite>Arabian -Nights</cite>; trans-shipping by the Brindisi route, and -after a week or two in Paris, reaching London in -May, in time for Imogen to hear her first nightingale.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A very sensible programme, I wish we were going -with you. However, later on, if the seasons and the -stock keep up, we may come and stay at your -country seat.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_362'>362</span>“It was the most fortunate day of my life when I -stayed at yours, though appearances were against me, -I confess. However, I look forward to seeing you -and Hilda in my native county, which is not wholly -without interest, especially in shooting, hunting, and -fishing. However, I think it’s drawing on to feeding -time. Champagne goes better <em>after</em> subterranean -experiences than before.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The banquet was a success. Blount found himself -referred to, not only as the original capitalist in the -formation of the great Mineral Property, which had -advanced Tasmania by half a century, socially, commercially, -and mineralogically (the last word a trifle -slurred), but as “a patron of the fine arts, a generous -supporter of local charities, and a citizen of whom -they would all be proud, and would remember gratefully -in days to come. They trusted that even in the -splendid pageantry of the old and venerated society, -in which he and his amiable wife were so soon to share, -the humble, but heartfelt hospitality of the ‘tight -little island,’ called Tasmania would not be wholly -forgotten. Their honoured guests had accepted -invitations to be present at a ball to be given that -evening for the purpose of supplementing the funds of -the local hospital, and all hoped to meet them there. -They knew that there were several representative institutions, -including the library, of which they were -justly proud, to inspect. They would not detain the -guests by making further remarks.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. Blount had no hesitation in saying that he was -never more genuinely surprised than by witnessing -the astonishing, he might say unparalleled, progress -made by the town and district since his last visit. In -<span class='pageno' id='Page_363'>363</span>the formation of the streets, in the water service, in -the installation of electric lighting, in the hospital and -library, Comstock was ahead of many old-established -country towns in Britain. Personally, he should -always take a deep interest in the municipal, as well -as the material, progress of the city, and feel genuine -pride in having contributed to its inception and -development.</p> - -<p class='c008'>A general inspection of the local institutions filled -up the afternoon. The free library attracted much -attention. It had been commenced by subscription, -and with private donations, supplemented by books -from tourists and visitors, who generally left any they -brought to read by train or steamer on the journey -up. It was a heterogenous collection, ranging from -<em>very</em> light fiction to works on metallurgy, theology, -and civil engineering. However, there was no lack -of works of solid value, so that the miner -who wished to improve or distract his mind had -no difficulty in finding books to suit his taste. -At the hospital, apart from typhoid fever and -dysentery patients, the cases were mostly fractures and -other injuries resulting from mining accidents. This -establishment, as at all gold and silver fields, was -most liberally supported, irrespective of race, creed, -or colour. No working miner knew whose turn it -might be the next to be carried there in agony or -insensibility. Many were the gifts, unostentatiously -bestowed, by former patients in the shape of necessaries -or luxuries for convalescents. These duty visits performed, -dinner was undertaken at the Palace Hotel, a -stately three-storeyed building, with a verandah -nearly twenty feet wide and balconies to match. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_364'>364</span>After a more or less sumptuous repast in the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">salle à -manger</span></i>, electric lighted, where they were served by -well-dressed waiters, with wines of undoubted excellence, -and a <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">menu</span></i> almost extravagant in variety, -and but sparingly partaken of; Messrs. Bruce, -Blount, and Tregonwell sallied forth accompanied -by a dozen dignitaries to the Town Hall. In this -imposing building, a crowd of dancers in “plain -or fancy” dress were already in the full swing of -pleasurable excitement.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_365'>365</span> - <h2 class='c003'>CHAPTER XII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>A gold</span> or silver field of decent rank and reputation -must always compare favourably in its amusements -with a town. In the wide range of his -experiences, in war and peace, on land and water, -British or foreign, the roving miner may challenge -comparison with all sorts and conditions of men. -Thus, he is never at a loss for a character to -represent, a costume in which to disguise, or to -heighten his personal attractions. The same rule -applies to the women of the family, who have followed -his wanderings, sharing in his privations or -triumphs, as the case may be. Bearing with exemplary -patience the inevitable hardships, they are -none the less eager to recoup themselves when -legitimate opportunities arise for amusement.</p> - -<p class='c008'>When Messrs. Bruce, Blount, and other magnates -arrived on the scene, they were accommodated with -seats on the daïs, where they sat proudly in full -public view, reflecting how sharply contrasted was -the scene before them with any possible gathering -on the site of the “Comstock Claim”—“of four -men’s ground”—little more than a year ago! The -great hall, seventy feet in length, by thirty in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_366'>366</span>width, was brilliantly lighted, draped with flags of -all nations, above which, surmounting the daïs, the -Union Jack reigned supreme. Upon the satin-like -Huon pine floor strolled a motley crowd. Pirates -and princes, peasants and brigands, ballerinas and -matadors, mingled with dairy maids and broom girls, -flower sellers and fishwives (whose “caller herrin’” -had the smack of the well-remembered cry), while -dowagers and duchesses, grisettes, tricoteuses, shepherds -and sundowners, jostled here and there, in the -dance, with a Red Indian, a cow-boy, or even an -aboriginal in his blanket.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The distinguished visitors,” so described in the -morning’s <cite>Clarion</cite>, paid due respect to their municipal -and other entertainers. They stood high in the -estimation of their partners, whose looks and enthusiasm -for the dance they would have been indeed -hypercritical to have criticised. Charlie Herbert and -Jack Clarke, the latter having got rid of his unfortunate -lameness, were habited as a bushranger and a -stock-rider, respectively. They remained till supper -was over, during which exceedingly festive refection, -Mr. Blount’s health, as a fearless explorer, was enthusiastically -toasted, while Mr. Tregonwell was referred -to as a world-renowned mining captain, and the father -of the field. Charlie Herbert was eulogised as a worthy -son of the soil, who, like Mr. Dereker—the speaker must -say “Dick” Dereker (cheers)—was an honour to his -native land, and like him, destined to make a name -in the great world. Here every one rose, and cheered -to the echo. The speeches in requital of this courtesy -were brief but pointed; and long before the conclusion -of the function, Messrs. Bruce and Blount -<span class='pageno' id='Page_367'>367</span>quietly departed and soon after sunrise were on the -way back to Hobart, accompanied by Charlie Herbert -and Clarke, who deemed themselves to have a just -claim to exceptional recreation after their pioneer -experiences. Moreover, they explained that they -could afford to enjoy themselves with a clear conscience, -while Mr. Tregonwell remained on guard—a -man never known to sleep on his post. So these -young men chartered a four-in-hand drag, a few -miles out of Hobart, and having borrowed a coach-horn, -entered that city with all proper pomp and -circumstance. When Charlie Herbert proceeded to -“swing his reefing leaders,” and pull up at the -General Post-Office, quite a crowd had assembled, -eager to gaze on, and to welcome the prospectors -of the wondrous Comstock mine.</p> - -<p class='c008'>After depositing themselves and their belongings at -the Tasmanian Club, the junior shareholders stated -with decision that, having had a fair allowance of -hard work and hard living, they were now going to -enjoy themselves; also to make some return for the -hospitality they had enjoyed in former years. As -pleasant detrimentals, though suspiciously regarded -by cautious matrons, they had always, on the whole, -been popular, their want of capital being overlooked -in favour of their engaging manners and family connections. -Now, as original shareholders in the great -mining property of the day, they were princes, -paladins, long-lost brothers; in fact, most desirable -and distinguished. Everybody, from the Supreme -Court judges downward, called on and made much of -them. Without them no party was complete. At -the polo meets they were conspicuous; they rode -<span class='pageno' id='Page_368'>368</span>splendidly, every one said, as indeed they did, but -not having been able to keep ponies in former years, -this was their first opportunity of exhibiting that -accomplishment in public.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Of course, they were not long in letting people -know that they wanted to give their friends, and more -particularly the ladies of Hobart, some kind of entertainment; -the question now being of what pattern -and dimensions it should consist. To this end grave -consultations were held; of balls and parties there -had been nearly enough—the young people were, -strange to say, beginning to be tired of dancing.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Laura Claremont talked of going home to Hollywood -soon. If not earlier, certainly next week. -Mr. Bruce was becoming impatient; he began to -think about mustering those polled Angus bullocks in -the river paddocks for the Melbourne market, when a -chance remark by Mrs. Blount settled the matter, and -decided the character of the entertainment.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“How would it be to have a picnic party to the -Hermitage?” she inquired, with an air of much -innocence and simplicity. “There is a lovely road by -Brown’s River, and such a view! No one is at the -Bungalow now but a caretaker. There is one fine -large room, and a grand verandah looking out to sea. -The eatables, etc., could be arranged early in the day, -and if we were a little late coming home, the nights -are so lovely. We can have all the men-of-war -people, and just in time, too; I heard they were to be -off to the islands soon.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Magnificent!” cried out Charlie Herbert and -Jack Clarke in one breath. “Mrs. Blount, you have -saved our lives. Jack and I were getting quite low-spirited -<span class='pageno' id='Page_369'>369</span>and suicidal. We could think of nothing -worth while. Balls are played out. The races at -Elwick were about the last excitement. A picnic on -a vast and comprehensive scale is the very thing. Miss -Maguire, when does the Admiral give the order for -Nukuheva?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Sheila blushed, and seemed taken aback, but rallying, -answered, “‘The captain bold does not confide -in any foremast hand, Matilda!’ Isn’t that in one -of the Bab Ballads?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! I thought Vernon Harcourt might have -told you,” said Charlie. “You and he seemed so -confidential the other evening.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Suppose you ask him yourself, Mr. Herbert? But, -at any rate, it won’t be till the week after next.” -Here everybody laughed, and the girl, seeing that -she had “given herself away,” looked confused.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Tell him not to be rude, Sheila. What business is -it of his? Say you won’t go to his picnic, and then -it will be a dismal failure.” Mrs. Blount stood alongside -her <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">protégée</span></i> and looked threateningly at Master -Charlie, who pretended to be shocked at his <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">faux -pas</span></i>, and went down on one knee to Sheila to implore -forgiveness.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I’ve a great mind to box your ears, Mr. Herbert!” -she said, as her face lighted up with a smile of genuine -mirth, “but I suppose I must forgive you this time. -Now, what about this picnic? that’s the real question, -and where is it to be?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I vote for the Hermitage,” said Imogen. “Don’t you, -Hilda? I drove you there one day with ‘Matchless.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A lovely spot,” said Mrs. Bruce; “only I was -afraid the mare would jump over the cliff once. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_370'>370</span>road is lovely; I feel sure all the world will come. -We must have half-a-dozen four-in-hands—Imogen -and I will be chaperons. I suppose you young men -can forage up two more?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Miss Claremont!” suggested Jack <a id='clark'></a>Clarke. “She <em>is</em> -so nice.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Quite agree with you,” said Imogen; “but she is -not married yet. Suppose you ask Mrs. Wendover, -of the Châlet, she is so kind, and, at the same time, -capable of keeping order, which is necessary, Mr. -Herbert, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Now, don’t be severe, Mrs. Blount! All you -young married women get so dreadfully proper, and -talk alarmingly about your husbands. I’ll find -security for good behaviour.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Only my fun,” said Imogen. “But I’m afraid -you’ve hurt Sheila’s feelings. Has she forgiven -you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! Mrs. Blount, don’t tease him any more,” -cried Sheila. “He looks really sorry. It was all my -fault, for taking his chaff seriously.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What do you think of Lady Wood?” said Mrs. -Bruce, “from West Australia?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The very one,” cried out all the council. “She -has a habit of authority, as the wife of the Premier of -the Golden West Colony—(“and, though this is a silver -mine, ‘Shivoo,’ the relationship is obvious,” this interpolation -was Mr. Jack Clarke’s). Those who are in -favour, hold up your hands! Against it, nobody. The -resolution is carried.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Now for ways and means,” said Charles Herbert. -“First of all, the four-in-hand drags—there mustn’t -be fewer than half-a-dozen, with power to add to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_371'>371</span>their number; the men, too, must be able to drive. -Claude Clinton and I will see to that. Of course we -make him an honorary member of the committee of -management. The affair wouldn’t be complete without -him.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Of course not. (Chorus) ‘For he’s etc. etc.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Isn’t it rather early for a song?” queried Mrs. -Bruce.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not at all, when two such voices as yours and -Mrs. Blount’s are available, and this is such a grand -room to sing in. Music after breakfast—when you’ve -nothing to do afterwards, is simply delicious.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, only one verse—Sheila and I will join in,” -said Mrs. Bruce. “If Edward comes in, he’ll think -we’re going out of our minds.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The tribute to Mr. Clinton’s merits having been -rendered with feeling, Sheila’s fresh voice holding a -good position, the council went on to strict business.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The drags first,” said Mr. Herbert, “the affair -must be started properly—now, who are there? There’s -Gerald Branksome from W.A., <em>he</em> can drive, I know—he -won the tandem race at the Polo Gymkhana, and -the Victoria Cross race at Hurlingham last year. He -can be guaranteed. There’s Jim Allanson just down -from Sydney, a well-known whip, I’ve seen him drive -to Randwick from the Union Club. The Quorn Hall -drag with its four greys will take some beating. I -wired to Dick Dereker, he’ll turn up. Jack, are you -good for the brake, with that off leg of yours? It’s a -responsible position.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Count me in,” said that gentleman, who had been -to San Francisco; “Joe Bowman will help with the -brake business.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_372'>372</span>“That’s good enough,” said Herbert, “Joe will keep -an eye on you going down hill. I’ll have one, if I have -to wire to Melbourne for a team, that makes the half-dozen, -doesn’t it? I daresay there’ll be another or -two by and by. Buggies, tandem carts, and private -carriages may be left to their own discretion, or that -of their owners—there’ll be no lack of them, I daresay.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Once the great event was decided upon, neither -difficulties nor delays were considered worthy of notice. -The date was fixed: the invitations were sent out -next morning. The social status of the entertainment -being exceptional, no one dreamed of refusing. -Rumours of the scale of magnificence upon which it -was to be carried out commenced to circulate—for one -of the conditions of unparalleled advantage in such -affairs, an unrestricted bank balance, was in this case -notorious.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Money being no object to these youthful Monte -Christos, they were able to indulge, therefore, all the -fancies of generous dispositions, with excited imaginations. -No expense was spared; no thoughtful kindness -omitted. A large proportion of the hackney -carriages and other livery stable vehicles were secured. -As at a contested election, they plied from the General -Post-Office to the Hermitage, with free transit for all -holders of invitation cards. The arrangements were -complete and successful, beyond all previous holiday -experiences, and when Charlie Herbert took the lead -with an impressive team, and the belle of Hobart on -the box seat of his drag, life, it may be confidently -stated, had few richer moments, or more dazzling -triumphs in store for <em>him</em>.</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span>If he did not quote “let Fate do her worst,” there -could be no doubt that he felt, deep down in his -heart, the delicious, ever new, ever fresh sentiment of -the poet.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Next in order came Edward Bruce, with Sheila on -the box beside him, wild with joy and the excitement -of such a position, of which, except in a dream fairy -tale, she had never realised the possibility. Imogen, -beside her, had insisted on relinquishing the place of -honour. “No, Sheila, my dear! My fortune is told, -your turn has yet to come, and you have all our best -wishes, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You are too good, Miss Imogen, Mrs. Blount, I -mean! Really I don’t know what I am saying.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, you’re looking your best to-day, Sheila! -Your dress couldn’t be better, and this lovely day has -sent all the roses to your cheeks. Why, you might -pass for a Tasmanian girl, really—and we know what -that means.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Now, you girls!” said Edward Bruce, in accents -of veiled command, “keep your eyes about you, going -down this hill. It’s trying with a heavy load, and I’ve -heard of accidents. Imogen, put your foot on the -brake that side, and give me the least bit of help. -Now, we’re on the level again. Isn’t that view of the -sea lovely?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Reginald Vernon Harcourt, R.N., Flag Lieutenant -of H.M.S. <i>Orlando</i>, was understood to be of that -opinion, as he leaned forward from his seat in the -body of the coach, immediately behind the two young -women aforesaid, and remarked as much. This was -not the only statement he made before the procession -pulled up at the Sandy Bay Hotel, at the base of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_374'>374</span>hill immediately below the Hermitage. And it did -not go unnoted, that, being favourably situated for -talking to Sheila over her right shoulder, he made -prompt use of the position, as a naval strategist of -experience, while Imogen and Jack Clarke similarly -situated, did not appear to be quite so eager for -conversation.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The enumeration of the drags and traps following -would resemble that of the Greek ships at the siege -of Troy. It will be sufficient to say that Mr. Dereker’s -grey team was held to be the best, as to matching -and style; Dick Dereker, the most finished exponent -of the coaching science—worthy of the great annual -pageant in Hyde Park. There were a few dissentients, -who thought the Quorn Hall team and drag -faultless. But the opposition votes were too powerful. -He was “Dick Dereker,” therefore unapproachable -in love, war, sport, and every other form of manly -excellence. There was nothing more to be said. His -name settled the matter.</p> - -<p class='c008'>As it happened, nothing could possibly have been -more deliciously perfect than the weather. Warm, -without oppressive heat or sultry feeling, the faint sea -breeze, the murmuring lazy surge-roll, completed the -magic spell, which invited to sensuous enjoyment, the -happy possessors of unworn youth—in which class, -the greater proportion of the guests were fortunately -included.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The day, the season, the environment and attendant -circumstances being propitious, so was the gathering, -which was beyond all precedent successful. All the -four-in-hands had turned up; there was such a crowd -at the General Post-Office, that traffic was temporarily -<span class='pageno' id='Page_375'>375</span>impeded. But that did not matter in Hobart, -as it certainly would have done in Melbourne or -Sydney—where indignation would have been aroused. -The Tasmanian population is kindly and forbearing, -especially to the stranger within their gates, through -whom, in the season, it must be admitted, their -revenues are substantially benefited. So, as the -four-in-hands passed in single file down Davey -Street, cheers rent the air, and hearty popular -enthusiasm was evoked. The hill below the -Hermitage was long and steep, so it was arranged -that the drags and carriages were to be left at the -hotel, where adequate accommodation had been provided, -as well for the horses, as for the grooms and -drivers to them appertaining. The walk up hill was -neither long nor unduly fatiguing; providing also -for reasonable deviations into the forest paths, whence -more extended views might be enjoyed, or confidential -communications exchanged. This arrangement -seemed to suit the majority of the guests, who might, -without loss of time, have been seen scattered over -the sides and summit of the forest hill. At the sound -of the great Chinese gong, a fragment of loot from -the Summer Palace at Pekin, in the half-forgotten -Chinese war, a strong converging force prepared to -invest the Hermitage. Here were seen tables on -trestles in the principal room, laden with all the good -things which a very active, well-paid caterer had been -able to collect. Haunches of venison, barons of beef, -saddles of mutton, turkeys of great size and amplitude, -wild fowl of all descriptions, lake trout, fresh salmon -(frozen), grouse and pheasant, from the same miraculous -arrangement, rendered the choice of viands -<span class='pageno' id='Page_376'>376</span>difficult, and the taste of the most fastidious -“gourmet,” easy to satisfy. With the popping of the -first champagne corks, the conversation began to -strike the note of cheerfulness proper to the occasion, -after which the “crescendo” was maintained at an -uninterruptedly joyous, even vivacious level.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Speeches were sternly deprecated; an immediate -adjournment to the beach was proposed and promptly -carried out. The shining sands invited to every kind -of game and dance suitable to an open air revel. -Sets of lancers were formed; games such as “twos -and threes,” “oranges and lemons,” “hide and -seek,” found enthusiastic supporters, while those -pairs who had anything particular to say to each -other found quiet paths and shady nooks in the forest -fringe, which lay so conveniently close to the beaches -and headlands.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There was, apparently, no lack of mutual entertainment, -or necessity for the givers of the feast to -invent fresh frolics, for, just as the low sun gave -warning, and the last game of “rounders” came to an -end—in which, by the way, Sheila, who was as active -as a mountain colt, had particularly distinguished -herself—the recall bugle was sounded. A late afternoon -tea was served, and a descent made to the lower -level, where the drags, carriages, buggies and dog-carts -stood, with horses harnessed up, ready to start. -Among these last-mentioned vehicles was one, a dog-cart, -which was originally intended to accommodate -more than one pair. The driver regretted his inability -to take up a third person for want of room. -It subsequently came out that, being a youth of foresight, -he had removed the back seat before leaving -<span class='pageno' id='Page_377'>377</span>Hobart, holding the ancient averment, “two’s company, -three’s none,” still to be in force and acceptation. -However, after the inevitable amount of bustle and -occasional contention of ostlers, all the teams were -duly mustered and loaded up in the same order as -before.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There were, of course, certain reconstructions, -among which it was noted that Mrs. Blount had relinquished -her seat next to Miss Maguire, in favour -of the Flag-Lieutenant of the <i>Orlando</i>, alleging preference -for the higher seat behind, as by this removal -she commanded a more extensive view of the glorious -landscape, spread out by sea and shore, below and -around. Sheila and Lieutenant Harcourt did not -appear to be so deeply interested in scenery—at -least, on this occasion—as they kept their heads down -mostly, and spoke, though uninterruptedly, in rather a -low tone during the homeward drive.</p> - -<p class='c008'>On one occasion, however, they looked up suddenly -as a fresh young voice commenced the opening verse -of a well-known song, and before the magical couplet -of “The ship is trim and ready, and the jolly days -are done,” was well over, the whole of the occupants -of the drag, as well as those of the one immediately -behind, joined in with tremendous enthusiasm, until, -when the comprehensive statement that “They all -love Jack” was reached, the very sea-gulls on the -beach were startled, and flapped away with faint -cries of remonstrance. Then, for one moment, the -Flag-Lieutenant and Sheila looked into one another’s -eyes, and read there something not wholly subversive -of the sentiment.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The moon had risen, illumining the broad estuary, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_378'>378</span>over which, in shimmering gleams, lustrous lines of -fairy pathways stretched to the silvery mist of the -horizon; star-fretted patches of lambent flame traversed -the wavelets, which ever and anon raised a glittering -spray upward, while from time to time the low but -distinct rhythmic roll of the surges fell on the ear. -Higher and higher rose the moon in the dark blue, -cloudless sky—the surroundings were distinctly favourable -to those avowals which the moon has, from time -immemorial, had under her immediate favour and -protection. If some of the merry maidens of the -day’s <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">festa</span></i> listened to vows more ardent than are -born of the prosaic duties of every-day life, what -wonder? Next morning there was great excitement -at the clubs, and among all the inner circles of -Hobart society. Two engagements were “given out,” -one being that of Lieutenant Vernon Harcourt, of the -<i>Orlando</i>, to Miss Sheila Maguire, of Tumut Park, -New South Wales, and the other of Mr. Charles -Herbert, and a young lady to whom he had -long been attached, though circumstances had -hitherto delayed his declaration. Suspicions had -been aroused as to Mr. Jack Clarke and another fair -maid, but nothing was as yet “known for a fact.” Of -course, little was done on the day following this -stupendous entertainment. Everybody was too tired, -or declared themselves to be so. The members of -the Polo Club got up a scratch match, however, just -to “shake off the effects of a late sitting at whist.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>A few ladies rode out to this affair, the ground -being situated picturesquely on the bank of the -broad Derwent. Among these Dianas was Sheila, -riding a handsome thoroughbred, and escorted -<span class='pageno' id='Page_379'>379</span>by Mr. Bruce, also exceptionally well mounted. -Mr. Harcourt was observed to join them from time to -time, when his “quarter” was up at polo. He was -the show player of the fleet; always in a foremost -position at the gymkhana. In this particular -match, Sheila was observed to take great interest, -turning pale, indeed, on one occasion when he was -knocked off his horse in a violent passage at arms.</p> - -<p class='c008'>His opponent was adjudged to have been in the -wrong, and well scolded by the captain of his side; -the game went on, and Sheila recovered her roses—her -spirits also, sufficiently to join in the cheering -when Lieutenant Harcourt’s side won the match -by a goal and two behinds.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Both of the engagements met with general -approbation. The Tasmanian young lady and her -lover belonged to (so to speak) “county” families, -known from childhood to all the squirearchy of the -island—always general favourites. So everybody -congratulated sincerely and wished them luck. The -over-sea couple were, of course, strangers, and under -other circumstances, local jealousy might have been -aroused by a girl from another colony carrying off a -handsome naval officer, always a prize in colonial -cities. But Sheila’s simple, kindly, unaffected manner -had commended her to even the severe critics of -her own sex, the more sensible members excusing -his invidious preference among so many good-looking, -well-turned-out damsels, something after this -fashion:</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You see, he’s only a lieutenant; it may be years -before he gets a ship. He couldn’t afford to marry -yet, without money. They say she has tons of it, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_380'>380</span>and she is certainly very good-looking, and nice in her -manner. So Mr. Harcourt hasn’t done himself so -badly.” One person was slightly dissatisfied. That -was his captain. “He is my sailing-master, and a -very good one, too,” he said, in an ill-used tone of -voice. “He’ll always be thinking of her now, and -counting the days till he can leave the service. Suppose -the ship runs on a rock, I get my promotion -stopped, and all because of this confounded girl.” -Different point of view!</p> - -<p class='c008'>As for Sheila and her lieutenant, they were perfectly, -genuinely, unmistakably happy. They were -both young, she just twenty, he not quite arrived at -thirty. He was a rising man in his profession, and -Sheila’s money, which was, very properly, to be settled -upon herself, would allow them to live most comfortably -while he was on shore; besides aiding—as -money always does, directly or indirectly—in his -promotion. So the immediate prospect was bright. -Sheila declared that she had always loved sailors -since that eventful ball, where she had joined in the -dance on equal terms with the nobility of Britain. -What a fortunate girl she was, to have such friends; -and how much more fortunate she had become -since!</p> - -<p class='c008'>This memorable picnic, often referred to in after -years, was considered to be virtually, if not -officially declared, the closing event of the season. -The fleet was to sail in a week or ten days for “the -islands,” a comprehensive term for a general look -round the lands and seas of the South Pacific, in the -interests of British subjects. They would be back -in Sydney in three or four months, at the end -<span class='pageno' id='Page_381'>381</span>of which time—a terrifically long and wearisome -period Sheila thought—she and her sailor were -to be married. The Admiral’s ship and officers -would then return to England, after a month’s -stay in Hobart and Sydney—the time of his commission -having expired—and another Admiral, with -another flag-lieutenant, would replace them. Sheila -would also go to England, but not in the <i>Orlando</i>, -modern regulations having put a stop to that pleasing -privilege. But she could take passage in a P. and O. -steamer, leaving about the same time, and be in England -ready to receive him in a pretty house of their -own—their very own—where they would be as happy -as princes—happier indeed than some! After the -departure of the fleet, a certain calmness—not -exactly a dullness, but bordering on something of -that nature—began to settle upon the Isle of Rest -and Recreation. The Queenslanders, the New South -Wales division, the Victorians, South Australians, -and New Zealanders were taking their passages. -Edward Bruce began to get more and more fidgety—he -was certain that he was wanted at the station; -really, if his wife and Imogen could not make up -their minds to leave, he must go home and leave -them to follow.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Matters were in this unsettled state, when suddenly -in the cable column appeared the startling -announcement, “The Earl of Fontenaye died suddenly -yesterday, at Lutterworth, soon after hearing -the news of his eldest son’s death at Malta from an -accident at polo. The title and estates devolve upon -the younger son, the Honourable Robert Valentine -Blount, at present in Australia.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_382'>382</span>This news, it may well be imagined, was received -with mingled feelings by the people most nearly concerned. -The Earl had been in failing health for -years past; but as a confirmed invalid, had not -aroused apprehension of a sudden termination to his -succession of ailments. Blount and his father had -been on excellent terms; their only serious disagreement -had been on the subject of the younger son’s -unreasonable wandering—as the old man termed it—to -far countries and among strange people. He -had not gone the length of prohibition, however, and -his last letter had assured the errant cadet of his -father’s satisfaction at his marriage, and of his anxiety -to welcome the bride to the home of their race. Now -all this was over. Blount would never behold the kind -face lighting up with the joy of recognition, or have -the pride of presenting Imogen in all her grace and -beauty to the head of his ancient house. His brother -Falkland too, who used to laugh at his pilgrimages, as -he called them, and ask to be shown his staff and -scrip, with the last news of the Unholy Land, as -he persisted in naming Australia. What good -chums they were, and had always been! His -brother had never married; in that respect only -withstanding his father’s admonitions, but promising -an early compliance. Now, of course, in default of -a baby heir Blount was Lord Fontenaye, the inheritor -of one of the oldest historic titles and estates of the -realm—a position to which he had never dreamed -of succeeding; the thought of which, if it had ever -crossed his mind, was dismissed as equivalent in -probability to the proverbial “Château en Espagne.” -Perhaps his most powerful consolation, independently -<span class='pageno' id='Page_383'>383</span>of the change involved in becoming an English nobleman, -with historical titles and a seat in the House -of Lords, was the contemplation of Imogen as Lady -Fontenaye.</p> - -<p class='c008'>To her, the feeling at first was painful rather than -otherwise. She sympathised too deeply in all her -husband’s mental conditions, not to share his grief for -the sudden loss of a father and brother to whom he -had been warmly attached. He would never be -able to tell that father <em>now</em> how deeply he regretted -the careless disregard of his feelings and -opinions. Nor could he share with his brother, in -the old home, those sports to which both had been -so attached since boyhood’s day. The pride of proving -that in a far land, and among men of his own -blood, he had been able to carve out a fortune for -himself, and to acquire an income, far from inconsiderable -even in that land of great fortunes: even -this satisfaction was now denied him. Imogen too, -dreading always an inevitable separation from her -sister, felt now that their absences must necessarily be -greater, more lengthened, until at last a correspondence -by letter at intervals would be all that was left to -them of the happy old days in which they had so -delighted.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Why could not Fate indeed have left them where -they were, provided with a good Australian fortune, -which they could have spent, and enjoyed among -their own people, where Valentine would have, -in time, become an Australian country gentleman, -bought a place on the Upper Sturt, and lived like -a king, going of course to Hobart in the summer, -and running down to Melbourne now and then? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_384'>384</span>Why indeed should they have this greatness thrust -upon them?</p> - -<p class='c008'>So when Imogen was called upon by various -friends, ostensibly to inquire, but really to see “how -she took it,” and whether she showed any foreshadowing -of the dignities, and calmness of exalted -rank, they were surprised to see from red eyes, and -other signs, that the young woman upon whom all -these choice gifts had been showered had evidently -been having what is known in feminine circles, -as “a good cry,” and was far from being uplifted -by the rank and fame to which she had been -promoted.</p> - -<p class='c008'>This state of matters was considered to be so unwise, -unnatural, and in a sense ungrateful, to the Giver -of all good gifts, that they set themselves to rate her -for the improper state of depression into which she -had allowed herself to fall. She was enjoined to -think of her duty to society, her rank, her position -among the aristocracy of the proudest nobility in the -world. Of course it was natural for her husband to -be grieved at the death of his father and his brother. -But time would soften that sorrow, and as she had -never seen them, it would not be expected of her to -go into deep mourning or to wear it very long. In -the face of these, and other practical considerations, -Imogen felt that there would be a flavour of affectation -in the appearance of settled grief, and allowed her -friends to think that they had succeeded in clearing -away shadows. But she confided to Mrs. Bruce, in -the confidence of the retiring hour, that Val and she -would always look back to their quiet days at Marondah, -and their holiday, lotus-eating season in Hobart, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_385'>385</span>as part of the <em>real</em> luxuries and enjoyments of their -past life.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“However, you will have to come and see me at -Fontenaye!—how strangely it sounds—with Edward -and the dear children, and we must get Mr. Tregonwell -to make something happen to the Tasmanian -Comstock, so that <em>we</em> will come out like a shot. But, -oh! my dear old Australia! how I shall grieve at -parting with you for ever!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Then the sisters kissed, and wept in each other’s -arms, and were comforted—so women are soothed in -time of trial. On the next morning Imogen appeared -at breakfast with an unruffled countenance, talking -soberly to her husband and brother-in-law about the -wonderful change in their future lives, and their -departure by the next mail steamer.</p> - -<p class='c008'>This, of course, was imperative. The situation became -urgent. Mr. Bruce agreed to remain until the -P. and O. <i>Rome</i>, R.M.S. came for her load of so many -thousand cases of Tasmanian apples, and with incidental -passengers steamed away for Albany, Colombo, -Aden, Cairo, and the East—that gorgeous, shadowy -name of wonder and romance. Then would the -Australian family return to their quiet home by the -rippling, winding waters of the Sturt, and the English -division return to become an integral portion of the -rank and fashion, the “might, majesty and dominion” -of the world-wide Empire which has stood so many assaults, -and which still unfurls to every wind of Heaven -the “flag that’s braved a thousand years, the battle -and the breeze.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>It came to pass during one of the necessary conversations -<span class='pageno' id='Page_386'>386</span>relative to the voyage, that Lord Fontenaye -said to her ladyship, “Does anything occur to you, -relative to Sheila Maguire, my dear Imogen?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Indeed, I have been thinking about her a great -deal, lately,” said the youthful countess. “She can’t -be married until Lieutenant Harcourt and the fleet -return from the Islands. Till then, she will have to -stay in Hobart.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Won’t that be a little awkward for her? She has -no friends, that is to say, intimate friends, over here—though, -of course, we could get her efficient -chaperonage—eh?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I know what you are thinking of, Val! It would -be the very thing—and oh! how kind of you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What am I thinking of, and why am I so kind—have -I married a thought reader, my dear Imogen?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why, of course, you are intending to ask her to -go home with us, and to be married from Fontenaye. -It is a splendid idea. It would be unspeakably nice -for her, and she would be such a help and comfort to -me, on our travels.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The very thing! Do you think she will like the -idea?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Like it? She will be charmed. He will come to -England with the men of the <i>Orlando</i>, who are to be -replaced, and they can be married as soon as she can -get her trousseau together. We shall go to England -much about the same time as the Admiral, so that -Mr. Harcourt will be on full pay the whole time. I -dare say it will be two or three months before he gets -another ship. Poor dear Sheila, she never dreamed of -being married from a castle, any more than I did of -living in one after I was married.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_387'>387</span>“Or that I should give her away, as I suppose I -shall have to do,” rejoined her husband. “‘Giving -agreeable girls away,’” he hummed—“I shall feel like -the Lord Chancellor in <i>Iolanthe</i>.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>When this deep-laid plot was unfolded to Sheila, she -entered into the spirit of it with enthusiasm, expressing -the deepest gratitude, as with tears in her eyes, -she thanked her tried friends for their thoughtful -kindness. “I <em>was</em> rather down about being left alone -here,” she confessed. “It was all very well when I -belonged to your party, but being here by myself till -the fleet returned, and fancying all sorts of things in -Mr. Harcourt’s absence, was different.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The advantage is not altogether on your side, -Sheila. You will be company for me when my -husband is away. We’re both Australians, you see, -and there are many things in common between us; -old bush memories and adventures, that an English -friend, however nice she was, wouldn’t understand. -Really I feel quite cheered up, now I know you’re -coming with us.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And what do <em>I</em> feel?” cried Sheila—“but I won’t -describe it.” Her colour deepened, and her dark grey -eyes glowed, as she stood up and looked at her -benefactress with passionate emotion in every line -of her expressive face. “Yes! I feel that I could -die for you”—she clasped Imogen’s hand as she -spoke, and kissing it again and again, rushed from the -room.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Her Irish blood came out there,” said Blount; -“how handsome the girl has grown, and what a figure -she has! She’ll rather astonish our untravelled -friends in England. You’re quite right, though, as to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_388'>388</span>her being a comfort to you in foreign parts, and you -can talk about the Upper Sturt, and dear old -Marondah together, when you feel low-spirited.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Dear Marondah!” said Imogen, softly; “I -wonder when we shall see the old river again, and -the willows, dipping their branches into its clear -waters.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! you mustn’t let yourself run down, that way. -Bruce will be home next summer, if bullocks keep -up and the price of wool. Think how they’ll enjoy -coming to stay with us, and what shooting and hunting -he and I can have together. Sheila can hunt too. -I’ll smoke a cigar in the garden, and you’d better go -to bed, my dear.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>But little more remains to be told concerning the -fortunes of Imogen and her husband, now Lord and -Lady Fontenaye. They decided on a month’s -sojourn in Cairo, where they revelled in the mild -climate, and the daily marvels and miraculous sights -and sounds—the enchanted Arabian Nights’ surroundings, -the veiled women, the Arab horses, the -balconies, almost touching across the narrow streets. -The old-world presentment of the East was inexpressibly -fascinating to Imogen and Sheila, seen for -the first time.</p> - -<p class='c008'>They “did” Egypt more or less thoroughly, as they -planned not to reach England before April—Imogen -declaring that “the cold winds of March” would lay -her in an early grave. So they went up the Nile as -far as Philæ, filling their minds with such glories and -marvels as might suffice for the mental digestion of a -lifetime. They rode and explored to their hearts’ -<span class='pageno' id='Page_389'>389</span>content, “Royal Thebes, Egyptian treasure-house of -boundless wealth, that boasts her hundred gates”; -Luxor, with its labyrinth of courts, and superb -colonnades; Karnak, that darkens the horizon with a -world of portals, pyramids, and palaces.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Perhaps we may never see these wonders again,” -said Imogen. “But I shall revel in their memories -as long as I live. What do you say, Sheila?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I feel as if I was just born,” said the excited damsel, -“and was just opening my eyes on a new world. -Awakening in Heaven, if it’s not wrong to say so, -must be something like this.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What a charming way of getting over the winter,” -said Imogen. “One sees so much of the world in -the process, besides meeting people of mark and distinction. -Val tells me we may have a fortnight in -Paris, for hats and dresses, before arriving in dear old -England some time in April, which is a lovely -month, if the spring is early. And this year they say -it is.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“‘Oh! to be in England, now that April’s here’,” -quoted Lord Fontenaye, who now joined the party; -“we shall be comfortably settled in Fontenaye, I -hope, before the ‘merry month of May,’ when I shall -have the honour of showing you two ‘Cornstalks’ -what a London season is like.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Oh! and shall we able to ride in the Park?” quoth -Sheila, with great eagerness. “I do so long to see -the wonderful English horses that one hears so much -about—the Four-in-hand and Coaching Clubs too! -What a sight it must be! I must have a horse worth -looking at, price no object—new saddle, and habit -too. Oh! what fun it will be! And you’ll give -<span class='pageno' id='Page_390'>390</span>Mrs. Bl—I mean, her ladyship—a horse too, won’t -you?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“You’re a true Australian, Sheila,” said he. “I -believe you all care more about horses, than anything -else in the world. Now that the ‘Comstock’ is so -encouraging in the way of dividends, I believe it will -run to a hundred-and-fifty-guinea hackney or two—with -a new landau, a brougham, and other suitable -equipages.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>These rose-coloured anticipations were duly realised. -A wire was sent from Paris, and the “wandering -heir” was duly received and welcomed in the halls -of his ancestors. The time-honoured feasting of -tenants and “fêting” of the whole countryside was -transacted—a comprehensive programme having been -arranged by the land steward, a man of great experience -and organising faculty. The younger son -of the house, it was explained, had always been the -more popular one. And now that he had “come -to his own,” as the people said, their joy was unbounded. -Everything was done on a most liberal -scale. Correspondents came down “special” from -the great London dailies, by whom full and -particular descriptions were sent through all Britain -and her colonies, as well as to the ends of the earth -generally.</p> - -<p class='c008'>The beauty and gracious demeanour of Lady Fontenaye, -and her friend Miss Sheila Maguire, an -Australian heiress of fabulous wealth, were descanted -upon and set forth in glowing colours. Archives -were ransacked for the ancestors of all the Marmions, -from the days of Flodden and those earlier times when -Robert de Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye in Normandy, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_391'>391</span>followed the Conqueror to England, and after Hastings -obtained a grant of the castle and town of Tamworth, -and also the manor of Scrivelbaye, in Lincolnshire. -Harry Blount, Marmion’s attendant squire, was, -according to the custom of the day, a cadet of the -house, and being knighted with FitzEustace for gallantry -at Flodden, attained to wealth and distinction; -eventually through marriage with one of the co-heiresses -of the house of Marmion, extinct in default -of male heirs, became possessed of the title and estates. -Hence, Robert Valentine Blount, the present Lord -Fontenaye, has duly succeeded to the ancient tower -and town, amid appropriate festivities and rejoicings. -We are not aware that his Lordship presented a gold -“chain of twelve mark weight” to the pursuivants, or -the gentlemen of the press, but that the hospitality -was thoughtful, delicate, and unbounded in liberality, -no one honoured by its exercise will deny; while the -beauty and gracious demeanour of the Lady of the -Castle, so efficiently supported in her duties by her -friend, the handsome Australian heiress, Miss Maguire -of Tumut Park, lent additional lustre to the entertainment.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There for a while we may leave them, in the enjoyment -of youth, health, and historic rank. If such -gifts do not confer unclouded happiness, it must be -admitted that but few of the elements of which it is -supposed to be compounded were wanting.</p> - -<p class='c008'>Some delay in Sheila’s marriage, however, took -place. The <i>Orlando</i>, after having been ordered to -China, to the dismay of the captain, and at least two -of the senior officers, who had private reasons for not -desiring to explore the Flowery Land, either in peace -<span class='pageno' id='Page_392'>392</span>or war, was as suddenly recalled, and the cruiser -<i>Candace</i> ordered to take her place. The <i>Orlando</i> was -paid off, and the <i>Royal Alfred</i>, with a new crew and -officers put into commission, and despatched to the -Australian station at short notice. A telegram from -Fontenaye caused Commander Harcourt, R.N., to -betake himself to that vicinity at once. He had been -promoted to the rank of Commander for a dashing -exploit in bringing off a boat’s crew at Guadalcanar, -in the teeth of tremendous odds, and a shower of -poisoned arrows. There was no need for delay now—Sheila -had her trousseau ready weeks before, and the -Lieutenant—I beg his pardon, the Captain—didn’t -require much time to make <em>his</em> preparations.</p> - -<p class='c008'>So there was another entertainment at Fontenaye, -of comparative splendour and more true kindness and -genuine friendship. All the neighbouring gentry -were bidden to the feast, as well as the brother -officers of the bridegroom. Lord Fontenaye gave -away the bride, and made a feeling speech at the -breakfast. When Commander Harcourt, R.N., and -his lovely bride—for Sheila, in a “confection” from -Paris, looked beautiful exceedingly—walked down the -aisle of the old Abbey church, a girl of the period -said “it put her in mind of Lord Marmion and Lady -Clare, only that Marmion was a soldier, and not a -sailor, and (now that she remembered) he turned out -badly, didn’t marry Clare after all, was killed, indeed, -at Flodden, and ought to have married poor Clare, -who did not do so badly, nor Lord Wilton either, -after recovering his lands, his lady-love, and his -position in society.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_393'>393</span>After this momentous function, Lord <a id='font'></a>Fontenaye one -fine morning looked up from the <cite>Times</cite>, which, after -the fashion of secure husbands, he read during -breakfast, with a sudden exclamation that caused -Imogen to inquire what it was about.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“The death of Mrs. Delamere, poor thing! <em>That</em> -will make a difference.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Difference to whom?” inquired Imogen. “Oh! I -see—now, those two can get married. Have you heard -from them since they went to West Australia? Yes, -I know, you showed me her letter.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I heard <em>of</em> them later on, from a man I knew, -that the Colonel had bought into the ‘Golden -Hoof,’ or some such name, and was likely to make a -big rise out of it, as he expressed it. What a turn -of the wheel it would be, wouldn’t it? He was -‘dry-blowing’ after they got to West Australia.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“What in the world’s that?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“A primitive way of extracting gold from auriferous -earth, partly by sifting it, and then by blowing away -the lighter dust particles, when the gold, if there is -any, remains behind. Then, their tent caught fire one -day, when she was away for an hour marketing (fancy -Adeline buying soap and candles at a digging!), -and everything they had in the world was burned, -except what ‘they stood up in,’ as my informant -phrased it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“But you will send them something, poor things! -How I pity them. Oh! how stupid I am! You <em>did</em>—I -know you.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Yes! and she sent it back—a decent cheque -too.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_394'>394</span>“Quite right—they couldn’t take it from you—<em>you</em> -of all men. What did you do then?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“I ‘worked it,’ as ‘Tumbarumba Dick’ would say. -He was one of the partners in the Lady Julia claim. -I sent Dick the cheque; told him to get the diggers -round about to form a relief committee, and to let -them subscribe their share, then spread mine out in -small amounts among the genuine ones. They couldn’t -refuse the honest miners’ and their wives’ assistance. -No people are so generous in cases of accident or distress. -Thus my money ‘got there just the same,’ and -helped to give the forlorn ones a fresh start.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Quite another romance—I suppose you have a -slight <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tendresse</span></i> in that direction still?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Not more than a man always has for a woman he -has once loved, however badly she treated him; and -that is a very mild, strictly rational sentiment; but -<em>you</em> ought to have.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Why, I should like to know?”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Because, of course, when she broke my heart, and -sent me out into the world drifting purposeless, I fell -across one Imogen Carrisforth, who towed the derelict -into port—made prize of him, indeed, for ever and -ever.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Well, I suppose she did shape our destiny, as you -say—without the least intending it; and now I -suspect she’ll shape the Colonel’s for good and all. -They will be remarried quietly, live in the south of -France, and the gay world will hear no more of -them.”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c008'>Fontenaye was always reasonably gay and truly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_395'>395</span>hospitable; to the Australian division notably. Not -unduly splendid, but comfortably and reasonably fine, -on occasion. The nearest pack of hounds always -met there on the first day of the season, when sometimes -Lady Fontenaye, sometimes Mrs. Vernon -Harcourt, appeared, superbly mounted and among the -front rankers, after the throw off. Sheila was a frequent -guest in her husband’s necessary absences at sea. -Imogen was a little slow to accustom herself to be -addressed and referred to as “your ladyship” and -“her ladyship” at every turn, but took to it by -degrees.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Now, what became of Kate Lawless and her -brother Dick?” asks an eager youthful patron of -this veracious romance (not by any means wholly -untrue, dear reader, though a little mixed up).</p> - -<p class='c008'>“And the roan pony mare ‘Wallaby’ that carried -Kate ninety miles in a day to warn the police about -Trevenna,” screams a still younger student. “You -mustn’t leave <em>her</em> out.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>As might be expected, my dear boys, they came to -a sad end. Dick and his sister disappeared after the -fight at “the Ghost Camp.” They were rumoured to -have been seen on the Georgina River, in the Gulf -country. There were warrants out for both, yet they -had not been arrested. But one day, word came to -the police station at Monaro, that near a grave, at a -deserted hut between Omeo and the Running Creek, -something was wrong. The Sergeant, taking one -trooper who drove a light waggonette, rode to the -spot. “This is where Mrs. Trevenna’s child was buried, -the little chap that was drowned,” said the trooper, -“under that swamp oak. I was stationed here then -<span class='pageno' id='Page_396'>396</span>and went over. She <em>was</em> wild, poor thing! I wonder -if that’s her lying across the grave.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>It was even so. A haggard woman, poorly dressed, -showing signs of privation and far travel, lay face -downward on the little mound. “Lift her up, -Jackson!” said the Sergeant; “poor thing! I’d hardly -have known her. She came <em>here</em> to shoot herself, -look about for the revolver. Just on the temple, what -a small hole it made! Shot the mare too! best thing -for both of ’em, I expect. So that’s the end of Kate -Lawless! Who’d have thought it, when that flash -crowd was at Ballarat! Handsome girl she was then, -full of life and spirits too!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>“She never did no good after the boy was drowned,” -said the trooper.</p> - -<p class='c008'>“No! nor before, either. But it wasn’t all <em>her</em> -fault. Let’s lift her into the trap. She don’t weigh -much. There’ll be the inquest, and she’ll have -Christian burial. They can’t prevent <em>that</em> in this -country. And she’s suffered enough to make a dozen -women shoot themselves, or men either.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>So the dead woman came into the little township, -and after the coroner’s jury had brought in their -verdict that the deceased had died by her own hand, -but that there was no evidence to show her state of -mind at the time, poor Kate Trevenna (or Lawless) -was buried among more or less respectable people.</p> - -<p class='c008'>There was a slight difference of opinion as to the -identification of the woman’s corpse, but none whatever -as to that of the mare, among the horse-loving -bystanders around the grave, which was several times -visited during the following days. “That’s old -Wallaby, safe enough,” deposed one grizzled stockrider. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_397'>397</span>“Reg’lar mountain mare, skip over them rocks -like a billy-goat; couldn’t throw her down no ways. -Ain’t she dog-poor, too? Kate and she’s had hard -times lately. What say, boys, s’pose we bury her? -the ground’s middlin’ soft, and if she don’t ought to -be buried decent, no one does.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>The idea caught on, and a pick and spade contingent -driving out next day, a grave was dug and a -stone put up, on which was roughly chiselled—</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>“<span class='sc'>Wallaby</span>—died——”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c012'> - <div>THE END.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='sc'>Richard Clay and Sons, Limited</span>,</div> - <div>LONDON AND BUNGAY.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c003'>MACMILLAN & CO.’S SIX-SHILLING NOVELS AUTUMN, 1902</h2> -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c012'> - <div>CECILIA:</div> - <div>A Story of Modern Rome</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>F. Marion Crawford</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>LAVINIA</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>Rhoda Broughton</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>BAYARD’S COURIER</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>B. K. Benson</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>JAN VAN ELSELO</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>Gilbert and Marion Coleridge</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>ROGER DRAKE</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>H. K. Webster</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>THE SPLENDID IDLE FORTIES</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>Gertrude Atherton</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>THE GHOST CAMP</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>Rolf Boldrewood</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>THE HIGHWAY OF FATE</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>Rosa N. Carey</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>BY DULVERCOMBE WATER</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>Harold Vallings</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>CHILDREN OF THE FROST</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div>Jack London</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>NEW BOOK BY RUDYARD KIPLING</i></div> - <div class='c014'>Just So Stories for Little Children</div> - <div class='c014'>To be published in a Quarto Volume with</div> - <div>Illustrations by the Author</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>GERTRUDE ATHERTON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_02.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Conqueror</div> - <div class='c014'>Being</div> - <div>The True and Romantic Story</div> - <div>of Alexander Hamilton</div> - <div class='c014'>By Gertrude Atherton</div> - <div class='c014'>Author of</div> - <div class='c014'>“Senator North,” “The Aristocrats,” &c.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE SPECTATOR.</cite>—“Brilliant and -eloquent.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MORNING POST.</cite>—“Has an extraordinary -interest as a loving presentment of -a most extraordinary personage.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“In a series -of brilliant chapters, Mrs. Atherton enables -us to see how, mixed with the rare and -original essence of Hamilton’s character, -there were ordinary human elements which, -though they interfered in some measure -with his success, only made him the more -lovable.... His career forms so rounded -and complete a narrative, revealing throughout -one prevailing character, that it lends -itself to the author’s purposes of a ‘dramatic -biography’ better, perhaps, than any other -that could be selected.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GLASGOW HERALD.</cite>—“An entrancing -book.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>CHARLES MAJOR</div> - <div class='c014'>Author of</div> - <div class='c014'>“When Knighthood</div> - <div>was in Flower.”</div> - <div class='c014'>[400th Thousand]</div> - <div class='c014'>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Dorothy Vernon</div> - <div>of Haddon Hall</div> - <div class='c014'>By Charles Major</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WORLD.</cite>—“Mr. Charles Major’s picture of -the wilful, impetuous girl, whose name has come -down to us from the days of Good Queen Bess, is -vigorous and effective.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MORNING POST.</cite>—“It is but a small percentage -of works of fiction that one can read from -start to finish without weariness. But few will take -up Mr. Charles Major’s ‘Dorothy Vernon of Haddon -Hall’ and not read it with growing pleasure.... -Dorothy Vernon is a glorious creature, and the -author is entitled to full praise for a singularly -vivid and passionate portrait of a beautiful and -passionate woman.... All readers of this book -about her must needs follow John Manners’s -example, and fall madly in love with her as well.... -A book that will be thoroughly enjoyed in -the reading. One wishes there were more of the -same.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY MAIL.</cite>—“Mr. Major writes with -dash and spirit.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SCOTSMAN.</cite>—“Will appeal to all lovers of -romance.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>RUDYARD KIPLING</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_03.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Kim</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>Rudyard Kipling</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>TIMES.</cite>—“Treated with Mr. Kipling’s amazing -knowledge, insight, and sureness of touch.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MORNING POST.</cite>—“‘Kim’ is undoubtedly -the finest Indian story that the author of ‘The -Man who would be King,’ and a hundred other tales, -has yet written.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“Mr. Kipling’s -varied and complex powers are seen at their -strongest and best.... ‘Kim’ is the creation of a -great and true artist.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.</cite>—“Full, rich, -and animated in every detail ... informed as -before with a masterly intuition of Eastern modes -of thought.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GUARDIAN.</cite>—“A series of wonderful kaleidoscopic -pictures, ever shifting and changing.... -May Mr. Kipling soon give us more of this kind.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY NEWS.</cite>—“A wonderful procession of -picturesque and interesting figures pass through -the pages of the book.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>STANDARD.</cite>—“By far the most successful -piece of work Mr. Kipling has done for some time -past.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE.</cite>—“It is beyond -question the finest picture of Indian life which -Mr. Kipling has yet made; it is the finest picture -that has been made by any writer.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GLOBE.</cite>—“The pictures of persons and places -in ‘Kim’ are among the best things that Mr. -Kipling has done.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>OWEN WISTER</div> - <div class='c014'>Author of</div> - <div class='c014'>“Red Man and White,”</div> - <div class='c014'>“Lin McLean,” &c.</div> - <div class='c014'>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Virginian</div> - <div class='c014'>A Horseman of the Plains</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. <span class='sc'>W. L. Courtney</span> in the <cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH</cite>.—“‘The -Virginian’ represents the best -work of a writer not only of uncommon virility, -but possessed also of a stage-craft, and of a literary -manner which are in their way quite admirable.... -The best of Mr. Wister’s novel is that this -hero of his, ‘The Virginian,’ is actually so real and -vital, so throbbing with the red blood in his veins, -that we should recognise him if we ever had the -good fortune to meet him.... In Mr. Owen -Wister’s book the scenery, the incidents, the -graphic and absorbing narrative, the sense of -atmosphere, are without exception on a high and -spirited plane. Quotations are useless in a book -like this. It is written all in one piece; it has a -central unity of its own, and from such a whole -you cannot detach parts. It is, in truth, a remarkable -piece of work, quite as good, in its way, as -Mr. Churchill’s ‘The Crisis,’ and quite as well -worth reading.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“One of the -best novels that have appeared for some time, and -we advise everyone who is in need of a novel of incident -and freshness to buy, borrow, or steal ‘The -Virginian.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE.</cite>—“A rattling good -story.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY GRAPHIC.</cite>—“A very fine novel.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>S. R. CROCKETT</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id003'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_04.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Dark o’ the Moon</div> - <div class='c014'>Being</div> - <div class='c014'>Certain further Histories</div> - <div class='c014'>of the</div> - <div class='c014'>Folk called “Raiders”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SPECTATOR.</cite>—“Mr. Crockett’s admirers will -find plenty of his characteristic matter and manner -to mystify and amuse them in ‘The Dark o’ the -Moon.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>TIMES.</cite>—“A rousing story, with plenty of love -and fighting.... The story is told with unflagging -spirit.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“The story is -good Crockett from first to last, exactly what the -author’s many admirers will expect.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.</cite>—“A rousing -book in the novelist’s earlier manner, full of stir and -picturesque movement. With a plot that is interesting -and developed with skill.... It is in -every way satisfactory to find Mr. Crockett on his -native heath once more.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GLOBE.</cite>—“Should have a wide vogue and -much appreciation.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WORLD.</cite>—“A stirring tale.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“A romance, swift -and compact, and told with spirit.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>S. R. CROCKETT</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“We should class this -book as among the -best of its author’s -recent works.”</p> - -<div class='c013'>—<cite>Athenæum.</cite></div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Crown 8 vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Firebrand</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>S. R. Crockett</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ATHENÆUM.</cite>—“We should class this book -as among the best of its author’s recent works.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>LITERATURE.</cite>—“A bustling novel.... Something -is always happening in Mr. Crockett’s -books—generally something ingenious and unexpected. -Not many writers can spin the web of a -story better.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WORLD.</cite>—“The story of the ‘firebrand,’ Rollo -Blair, a Scottish gentleman-adventurer, and his -two incongruous associates, of the Abbot of -Montblanch, the kidnapping of the Queen, the -outlawry of Ramon Garcia, the outwitting of -Cabrera by Rollo, and the doings of the gipsies, is -decidedly good.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“A full-blooded tale -of adventure.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY NEWS.</cite>—“The story is a good one.... Will -be read with interest and pleasure.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GLOBE.</cite>—“Mr. Crockett is a born story-teller; -he has the knack of spirited and sentimental narration. -In ‘The Firebrand’ he runs to the length of -519 pages, and none of his admirers would desire that -they should be fewer.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>MARION CRAWFORD</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_05.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Marietta: a Maid of Venice</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE TIMES.</cite>—“A good story, as is usual with -Mr. Crawford. Custom does not stale him; ‘the -tea is not weak,’ as an experienced novelist admitted -was the case with his own productions.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PUNCH.</cite>—“Marion Crawford is at his very best -in ‘Marietta: A Maid of Venice.’ It is a powerfully -dramatic story of Venice under ‘The Ten,’ told -in a series of picturesque scenes described in -strikingly artistic word-painting, the action being -carried on by well-imagined, clearly defined characters. -Perfect is the description of Venice, and -of the hour of <i>Ave Maria</i>. Hero and heroine are -skilfully drawn types; while the quaint old salt -Pasquale, retired from active naval service and -now gate-porter to Beroviero, the celebrated glass-blower, -is drawn with the keenest sense of -humour.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE ATHENÆUM.</cite>—“Here is a story of -Italy, and Italy in full Renaissance, which offends -neither by sentimental maundering, nor by affected -diction, nor by leering ‘naturalism’—not -a hint of ‘the erotic, the neurotic, or the tommy-rotic’—just -a healthy, straightforward romance -of the old school, with plenty of adventure, and -ending as it should, told in good English without -any straining after phrases.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE SKETCH.</cite>—“No one who has ever -visited Venice and come under its spell, can afford -to miss ‘Marietta.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE DAILY MAIL.</cite>—“The reviewer too -rarely comes across so charming a tale as Mr. F. -Marion Crawford’s ‘Marietta: A Maid of Venice.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE MORNING POST.</cite>—“‘Marietta’ is one -of the more daintily charming of Mr. Crawford’s -stories, and deserves the recognition it will undoubtedly -receive.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>“ELIZABETH”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“Triumphantly successful.”</p> - -<div class='c013'>—Mr. <span class='sc'>W. L. Courtney</span>.</div> - -<p class='c008'>“Delightful from beginning to end.”</p> - -<div class='c013'>—<cite>The Standard.</cite></div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Benefactress</div> - <div class='c014'>By the Author of</div> - <div class='c014'>“Elizabeth and her German Garden”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE SPECTATOR.</cite>—“If ‘Elizabeth’s’ satire -is somewhat cruel, it is in the main justified by the -situation and the results. For the moral of the -story is as sound as the wit is mordant. ‘The -Benefactress,’ in a word, combines the rare qualities -of being at once wholesome, agreeably malicious, -and in full accord with the principles of the Charity -Organisation Society.”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. <span class='sc'>W. L. Courtney</span> in the <cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH</cite>.—“It -is difficult to describe by any single -epithet the peculiar charm which surrounds the -work of the authoress of ‘Elizabeth and her German -Garden.’... Quiet, tender, incisive, humorous.... -Triumphantly successful.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>LITERATURE.</cite>—“Fully equal to ‘Elizabeth -and her German Garden.’... Maintains its -interest throughout, and is full of well drawn -characters.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>STANDARD.</cite>—“Delightful from beginning to -end. It is wholesome, full of charm and joyousness.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WORLD.</cite>—“The writer holds the reader, not -to lose her hold while a line of the book remains to -be read and read again. Every character is a -living individuality, and every incident is a -necessity.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MORNING POST.</cite>—“An excellent piece of -work.... The most amusing reading which has -come our way for some time.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY NEWS.</cite>—“One of the most attractive -novels we have read for a long time.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>EGERTON CASTLE</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_06.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Secret Orchard</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>Egerton Castle</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GLOBE.</cite>—“The story, as a whole, is -eminently effective, eminently readable, -and can be recommended cordially to all -and sundry.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WORLD.</cite>—“The persons are all well -drawn, and the interest is great.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“A very -clever and a very good book.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“We expected -much.... ‘The Secret Orchard’ -does more than rise to our expectations.... -We follow the rapid development of the -tragedy with a sympathetic interest which -never flags.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY MAIL.</cite>—“A novel of signal -distinction and beauty.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ACADEMY.</cite>—“The style and manner -of telling the story is of the easy luminous -character that we associate with the authors -of ‘The Bath Comedy.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MORNING POST.</cite>—“There can be -no doubt of the dramatic force with which -it is told or of the interest it inspires.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE TIMES.</cite>—“A finished piece of -work.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>A. C. FARQUHARSON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“The story is absorbing.”</p> - -<div class='c013'>—<cite>The Athenæum.</cite></div> - -<p class='c008'>“Altogether worth reading.”</p> - -<div class='c013'>—<cite>The Westminster Gazette.</cite></div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>St. Nazarius</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>A. C. Farquharson</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ATHENÆUM.</cite>—“It is a rare pleasure -to find a book which is satisfactory in almost -all respects. ‘St. Nazarius’ is such a -book. The story is absorbing; its treatment -is admirable, especially in restraint; -and the tone is one of unusual distinction.... -The deep thought of the book, its -essential sanity, its presentation of a high -religious ideal, interest us in the work of -the author.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.</cite>—“A -novel out of the common.... Altogether -worth reading.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE.</cite>—“Should -give delight to many readers who do not as -a rule trouble themselves to cut the leaves -of ordinary novels. The writer has dared -to probe the depths and to scale the heights.... -The story is clothed in language -perfectly suited to its mysterious charm.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>OUTLOOK.</cite>—“Mr. Farquharson has -grip, and his story is well worked out.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SCOTSMAN.</cite>—“A striking story and -one in which the reader’s interest and admiration -strengthen, from a somewhat -formal opening, to an end which is unconventionally -fine and sad.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>STEPHEN GWYNN</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_07.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Old Knowledge</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>Stephen Gwynn</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.</cite>—“It -is long since it has been our good fortune -to meet with a novel so fresh, breezy, and -altogether charming.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SUNDAY SUN.</cite>—“A good book, very -far above the customary novel of the day -in all important matters. It has charm of -manner, a delicate and indefinable melancholy—the -inalienable melancholy of the -Irish—and also a very welcome touch of -Irish humour.... It introduces us to -several very charming people.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY EXPRESS.</cite>—“A very pretty -story, wholesome and refreshing, with the -sweet air of Donegal.... The humour, -the prettiness, and the trouble of the story -are all perfect in their lightness and -harmony. Mr. Gwynn is among the most -graceful and pleasant of Irish writers.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE SPECTATOR.</cite>—“It is admirably -written: it has an interesting theme, -and its development in plot and characterisation -... is in faithful correspondence -with the facts of life. In a word, the book -is both charming and convincing.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>NANCY H. BANKS</div> - <div class='c014'>A Kentucky Tale</div> - <div class='c014'>of the</div> - <div class='c014'>Last Century.</div> - <div class='c014'>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Oldfield</div> - <div class='c014'>A Kentucky Tale of the</div> - <div class='c014'>Last Century</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>Nancy Huston Banks</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MORNING POST.</cite>—“Has all the charm -which we have come to expect from American -stories which describe the lives of simple people in -remote parts of that vast continent.... A book -to read and to enjoy.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SPECTATOR.</cite>—“‘Oldfield’ is a Kentucky -‘Cranford’—with a difference. The difference is -that the setting of outside things in which Miss -Banks puts her human figures is much more vivid -than what we find in Mrs. Gaskell’s story.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SCOTSMAN.</cite>—“At once picturesque, pathetic, -and removed from the ordinary lines of modern -fiction.... The incidents of the romance are -fresh, healthy, and invigorating. The characters -are strongly and clearly defined.... Is bid heartily -welcome.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>UNA L. SILBERRAD</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id006'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_08.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Princess Puck</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>Una L. Silberrad</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE PILOT.</cite>—“It is unspeakably refreshing -to come upon a book so bubbling over with life and -love and character and humour as ‘Princess Puck’ -that to notice it forthwith is an imperative duty -and pleasure. This is a novel to read once so that -you may find out how good it is, and then straightway -over again because it is so good that you must -enjoy it more leisurely.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE SPECTATOR.</cite>—“Miss Silberrad’s exceedingly -clever, fresh, and wholesome story.... -<cite>Bill</cite> Alardy is a delightful creation: she bubbles -over with life and goodwill, humour, energy, and -affection; and everything she touches turns to -romance.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE ACADEMY.</cite>—“The whole story is in -the aggregate so pleasing and entertaining that we -have little inclination to pick holes. Let it go as -fresh and recommendable.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PUNCH.</cite>—“... the exceeding charm of the -creation of <i>Wilhelmina Alardy</i>, commonly known -as <i>Bill</i>. In her freshness, her unconventionality, -her keen insight, and her honesty, <i>Bill</i> is delightful.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“Miss Silberrad’s -book deserves a high place in the fiction -of the moment. The story is interesting and -rattles along to the end without a pause; there is -originality in the construction of the plot, and perception -as well in the way the characters are conceived -and presented. <i>Bill</i> herself is a charming -conception.... Altogether, ‘Princess Puck’ is a -book to be read, and to be read with discrimination.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>MERWIN & WEBSTER</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“Most remarkable story.”</p> - -<div class='c013'>—<cite>Daily Mail.</cite></div> - -<p class='c008'>“An interesting and amusing -book.”</p> - -<div class='c013'>—<cite>Scotsman.</cite></div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>“Calumet ‘K’”</div> - <div class='c014'>By S. Merwin and H. K. Webster</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“Calumet ‘K’” is a two-million-bushel grain-elevator, -and this story tells how Charlie Bannon -built it “against time.” The elevator must be -done by December 31. There are persons that are -interested in delaying the work, and it is these, as -well as the “walking delegates,” that Bannon has -to fight. The story of how they tried to “tie up” -the lumber two hundred miles away, and of how -he outwitted them and just “carried it off,” shows -the kind of thing that Bannon can do best.</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY MAIL.</cite>—“Most remarkable story.... -The story makes an epic—the epic of a sleepless, -tireless man who can never be beaten. Every -young man who is to-day starting out on the -business of life should read it.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SUNDAY SPECIAL.</cite>—“No romance of the -Middle Ages surpasses this story in stirring interest, -virility, and strength. It is a moving picture of -the resistless American of to-day, and, as such, is -worth a hundred average novels.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SCOTSMAN.</cite>—“It is an interesting and amusing -book, and once taken up will be read to a finish.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SPECTATOR.</cite>—“The story will delight -readers who combine mechanical taste with the -spirit of practical enterprise.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>EVELYN SHARP</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id007'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_09.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Youngest Girl</div> - <div class='c014'>in the School</div> - <div class='c014'>By Evelyn Sharp</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE ATHENÆUM.</cite>—“Told with -much humour.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE ACADEMY.</cite>—“A most amusing -story.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>LITERATURE.</cite>—“A vivid picture of -a girl’s school.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE PILOT.</cite>—“... its raciness -and humour.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“Extremely -diverting to the average man.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE GRAPHIC.</cite>—“Very fresh and -natural.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE SPECTATOR.</cite>—“Shows a -wholesome and humorous grasp of life.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“Miss -Evelyn Sharp has scored a brilliant success -in a <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">genre</span></i> where success has been attained -by few. Schoolgirls have suffered rather -more than schoolboys at the hands of -writers of fiction. Miss Sharp possesses -an endowment of humour, rich, sensitive, -radiant, that pervades her book like a -joyous elemental spirit. And with this -frolic spirit, ever alive to the humorous -aspects of life, the subtlest apprehension is -revealed of the psychical depths beneath -the exuberant manifestations of healthy -aspiring youth.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>E. F. POYNTER</div> - <div class='c014'>Author of</div> - <div class='c014'>“An Exquisite Fool,”</div> - <div class='c014'>“Every Day’s News,”</div> - <div class='c014'>etc.</div> - <div class='c014'>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Michael Ferrier</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>E. Frances Poynter</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><b>Michael Ferrier</b> is the story of a -young poet who loves and is loved by a -beautiful girl, Helen Umfraville. In a -moment of frenzy he kills, half by accident, -the man who attempts to stand between -them. The death passes for either accident -or suicide, and no suspicion is aroused; -but the girl sees her lover’s trouble, -questions him, and the turning point of -the book is the scene when he confesses to -her his act, and she takes the decision -that seems to her right in consequence.</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“There are so -many real tragedies in life, and so few convincing -ones in fiction, that the perusal of Miss E. Frances -Poynter’s little study is likely to make a deep impression -on the reader. For here is real tragedy.... -In her characterisation the authoress is most -happy.... Miss Poynter possesses keen psychological -insight and a not unkindly satire when she -pleases, as well as the power to depict pathos and -suffering, with the pen of the artist.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PUNCH.</cite>—“Miss Frances Poynter, though not -a new novelist, is a fresh acquaintance of my -Baronite’s. If her earlier works are as good as -‘Michael Ferrier,’ they are worth looking up.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>S. WEIR MITCHELL</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id008'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_10.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Circumstance</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>Dr. S. Weir Mitchell</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“Circumstance” is a study of life in Philadelphia, -rather curious as showing the -exclusiveness of American Society. It is -also a study of an adventuress. The -point of the title lies in the varying resistance -of character to external events, and -the striking influence on inferior character -of accidents, such as that which almost -made Mrs. Hunter a murderess, or that -which enabled her to attain her end without -resorting to so disagreeable a step or -sacrificing any of her complacency.</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE PILOT.</cite>—“Carried out with admirable -effect.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE OUTLOOK.</cite>—“Contains an extremely -able study of senile decay and one of the most -sagacious portraits of a pretty coquette ... which -we have ever seen.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE STANDARD.</cite>—“The book is very -clever.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>ROSA N. CAREY</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>“Well conceived and well -sustained.”</p> - -<div class='c013'>—<cite>The World.</cite></div> - -<p class='c008'>“Highly interesting.”</p> - -<div class='c013'>—<cite>Morning Post.</cite></div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Herb of Grace</div> - <div class='c014'>By Rosa N. Carey</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.</cite>—“A -clever delineator of character, possessed of -a reserve of strength in a quiet, easy, flowing -style, Miss Carey never fails to please -a large class of readers. ‘Herb of Grace’ -is no exception to the rule....”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY GRAPHIC.</cite>—“An entirely -pleasant and wholesome story.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GLOBE.</cite>—“Told in the writer’s best -and most popular manner.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MORNING POST.</cite>—“Highly interesting.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE.</cite>—“Very -pleasant reading, and full of quiet charm. -There is much skilful portrayal of -character.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WORLD.</cite>—“The story is well conceived -and well sustained.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“In every -respect a worthy successor to ‘Rue with a -Difference.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MANCHESTER GUARDIAN.</cite>—“On -the picture of the two sisters living -so happily together, Miss Carey has expended -some of her most careful and -successful work.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>MAURICE HEWLETT</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id009'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_11.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Richard Yea-and-Nay</div> - <div class='c014'>By Maurice Hewlett</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Frederic Harrison</span> in <cite>THE FORTNIGHTLY -REVIEW</cite>.—“Such historic imagination, -such glowing colour, such crashing speed, -set forth in such pregnant form carry me away -spell-bound.... ‘Richard Yea-and-Nay’ is a -fine and original romance.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“The story carries -us along as though throughout we were galloping -on strong horses. There is a rush and fervour -about it all which sweeps us off our feet till the end -is reached and the tale is done. It is very clever, -very spirited.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY NEWS.</cite>—“A memorable book, over-long, -over-charged with scenes of violence, yet so -informed with the atmosphere of a tumultuous -time, written with a pen so vital and picturesque, -that it is the reader’s loss to skip a page.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“We have to thank -Mr. Hewlett for a most beautiful and fascinating -picture of a glorious time.... We know of no -other writer to-day who could have done it.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>MAURICE HEWLETT</div> - <div class='c014'>Fifty-third Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>in</div> - <div class='c014'>England and America</div> - <div class='c014'>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Forest Lovers</div> - <div class='c014'>A Romance</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SPECTATOR.</cite>—“‘The Forest Lovers’ is no -mere literary <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tour de force</span></i>, but an uncommonly -attractive romance, the charm of which is greatly -enhanced by the author’s excellent style.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“Mr. Maurice -Hewlett’s ‘The Forest Lovers’ stands out with -conspicuous success.... There are few books of -this season which achieve their aim so simply and -whole-heartedly as Mr. Hewlett’s ingenious and -enthralling romance.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ACADEMY.</cite>—“This is a remarkable book.... -‘The Forest Lovers’ has been a fresh sensation. -Mr. Hewlett can write! What a sense of -colour, of contrast; what vigour, what rapid -movement!”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE GUARDIAN.</cite>—“Quaint and delightful.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“Here is a romance -of the glamorous mediæval time, done just as such -a thing should be done.... It is a book to be -read. Not to be read at a sitting, but to be read -slowly, when one is in the mood.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS.</cite>—“It -is not easy to describe the charm of Mr. Hewlett’s -romance.... ‘The Forest Lovers’ is a distinct -acquisition to the true literature of romance.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>JAMES LANE ALLEN</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id010'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_12.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Increasing</div> - <div class='c014'>Purpose</div> - <div class='c014'><b>130,000</b> <i>copies have been sold in England and America</i>.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.</cite>—“Such a -book as this is a rare event, and as refreshing as it -is rare. This book ... is a beautiful one—beautiful -alike in thought, tone, and language.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>LITERATURE.</cite>—“We may safely assert that -it will achieve a large success, and achieve it on its -merits.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“We like this book. -It stands apart from the ordinary novel. It tells -the story of the growth of a soul.... A great -charm of the book is its pictures of outdoor life on -a Kentucky farm.... But the greatest charm of -all, perhaps, is Mr. Allen’s clear-cut, simple, and -vigorous style.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SPECTATOR.</cite>—“Written with all the delicacy -and distinction which have already won him so -many admirers.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WORLD.</cite>—“Lays upon the reader a grip from -which there is no escape.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY GRAPHIC.</cite>—“The character of -David, the first figure in the book, is finely drawn.... -The book is well worth reading.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ACADEMY.</cite>—“Full of racial warmth and -freshest human nature.... Life is intense, richly -coloured, and splendidly aspirant in these pages; -yet the eternal note of sadness is brought in.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>JAMES LANE ALLEN</div> - <div class='c014'>Fcap. 8vo. Gilt top. <b>6s.</b></div> - <div class='c014'>223rd Thousand.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Choir Invisible</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ACADEMY.</cite>—“A book to read and a book to -keep after reading. Mr. Allen’s gifts are many—a -style pellucid and picturesque, a vivid and disciplined -power of characterisation, and an intimate -knowledge of a striking epoch and an -alluring country. ‘The Choir Invisible’ is a fine -achievement.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“Mr. Allen’s -power of character drawing invests the old, old -story with renewed and absorbing interest.... -The fascination of the story lies in great part in -Mr. Allen’s graceful and vivid style.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Globe 8vo. Price <b>3s. 6d.</b> each.</div> - <div class='c014'>A Kentucky Cardinal</div> - <div>Aftermath</div> - <div class='c014'>Being Part II. of “A Kentucky Cardinal.”</div> - <div class='c014'>Summer in Arcady</div> - <div class='c014'>A Tale of Nature</div> - <div class='c012'>Crown 8vo. Price <b>6s.</b> each.</div> - <div class='c014'>A Kentucky Cardinal and</div> - <div>Aftermath</div> - <div class='c014'>In one vol. Illus. by <span class='sc'>Hugh Thomson</span>.</div> - <div class='c014'>Flute and Violin</div> - <div class='c014'>And other Kentucky Tales and</div> - <div>Romances.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Blue-Grass Region of</div> - <div>Kentucky</div> - <div class='c014'>And other Kentucky Articles.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>OUTLOOK.</cite>—“His work has purity, delicacy, -and unfailing charm. He gives you matter for -laughter, matter for tears, and matter to think -upon, with a very fine hand.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“Mr. Allen has -attained to an enviable position; it is his to interpret -his native country to the world, and it is -not easy to imagine a better interpreter. These -four volumes are worthy of the author of ‘The -Choir Invisible.’”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>WINSTON CHURCHILL</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id011'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_13.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Crisis</div> - <div class='c014'>[290th Thousand]</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“‘The Crisis’ is a -story of the American Civil War, a theme as inspiring -to the American writer of genius as the -English Civil War has proved to some of our best -romancers. But, so far as we are aware, there has -hitherto been no novel on that subject produced in -America to equal either the ‘Woodstock’ of Sir -Walter Scott or Whyte-Melville’s ‘Holmby House.’ -That reproach is at length removed by Mr. -Churchill, and ‘The Crisis’ will bear comparison -with either of these justly famous books.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>LITERATURE.</cite>—“As well executed a novel -as we have come across for many a long day.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SPECTATOR.</cite>—“An exceedingly spirited, interesting, -and right minded romance of the Civil -War.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GUARDIAN.</cite>—“‘The Crisis’ is a remarkable -book.... It is a grand book.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“A singularly -fascinating and, in many respects, an important -and valuable book.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“Well as Mr. -Churchill did with some of his characters in -‘Richard Carvel,’ he has done still better in this -story with some of their descendants.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE.</cite>—“It is a sound -book, well put together and well written.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PILOT.</cite>—“A worthy pendant to his brilliant -romance ‘Richard Carvel.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ATHENÆUM.</cite>—“A bright, vividly written -book, which holds the reader’s interest.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY NEWS.</cite>—“We congratulate Mr. -Churchill. ‘The Crisis’ is a warm, inspiriting -book.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>WINSTON CHURCHILL</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>One of the most striking successes in recent fiction.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Crown 8vo. Gilt top</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Richard Carvel</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GUARDIAN.</cite>—“The book is one we can -warmly recommend to readers who like to have -their historical memories freshened by fiction.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>LITERATURE.</cite>—“Has a full and stirring -plot.... A piece of work creditable both to -his industry and his imagination.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE SPEAKER.</cite>—“We have not read a -better book for many a day than ‘Richard -Carvel.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“Full of good -things. The narrative excels in incidents, interesting, -vivid, and picturesque....”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>The Celebrity:</div> - <div class='c014'>An Episode</div> - <div class='c014'>[59th Thousand]</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ATHENÆUM.</cite>—“Distinctly good reading. -It is witty and devoid of offence to the most -sensitive disposition.... Can be recommended -to old and young alike.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>CHICAGO TRIBUNE.</cite>—“An exceptionally -pleasing novel.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>NEW YORK INDEPENDENT.</cite>—“Fresh, -dashing, and entertaining from beginning to end.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>ROLF BOLDREWOOD</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id012'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_14.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>In Bad Company</div> - <div class='c014'>and other Stories</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>Rolf Boldrewood</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>A collection of Australian stories and -sketches. The longest, which gives its -title to the volume, turns on the wickedness -of a trades-unionist agitator among -the shearers and the violent accompaniments -of an Australian strike. Others -describe bushrangers, rough-riding contests, -kangaroo shoots, lapsed gentlefolk, and, of -course, a drought.</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE OUTLOOK.</cite>—“Very good reading.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY NEWS.</cite>—“It is the best work this -popular author has done for some time.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY GRAPHIC.</cite>—“Both the quantity and -quality of the stories are first rate.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DUNDEE ADVERTISER.</cite>—“There are -many charming pictures in words of Australia and -her people, free from conventional phraseology, to -be found in these pages, and the book forms a fit -companion to such capital volumes as ‘Robbery -Under Arms’ and ‘The Miner’s Right,’ which -made Mr. Boldrewood’s name.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>COURT CIRCULAR.</cite>—“A breezy, bracing, -healthy book.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>ROLF BOLDREWOOD</div> - <div class='c014'><i>POPULAR EDITION OF THE</i></div> - <div><i>NOVELS IN UNIFORM BINDING</i></div> - <div class='c014'>Crown 8vo.</div> - <div class='c014'>Price 3s. 6d. each</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Robbery Under Arms</div> - <div class='line'>The Miner’s Right</div> - <div class='line'>The Squatter’s Dream</div> - <div class='line'>A Sydney-side Saxon</div> - <div class='line'>A Colonial Reformer</div> - <div class='line'>Nevermore</div> - <div class='line'>A Modern Buccaneer</div> - <div class='line'>The Sealskin Cloak</div> - <div class='line'>Plain Living</div> - <div class='line'>The Crooked Stick</div> - <div class='line'>My Run Home</div> - <div class='line'>Old Melbourne Memories</div> - <div class='line'>Romance of Canvas Town</div> - <div class='line'>War to the Knife</div> - <div class='line'>Babes in the Bush</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Globe 8vo. <b>2s.</b></div> - <div class='c014'>The Sphinx of Eaglehawk</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>F. MONTGOMERY</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id013'> -<img src='images/i_catalog_15.png' alt='author portrait' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Price 6s.</div> - <div class='c014'>Prejudged</div> - <div class='c014'>By</div> - <div class='c014'>Florence Montgomery</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“An ingenious -tale, and pleasing, by reason of -the fresh wholesomeness of the characters -and atmosphere—a trait hard to discover -in many contemporary novels.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>TRUTH.</cite>—“The author of ‘Misunderstood’ -keeps up her deservedly high reputation -by her very pretty story ‘Prejudged.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>LITERARY WORLD.</cite>—“The story -is simple and charming.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MANCHESTER COURIER.</cite>—“A -study of character which is sincere and -convincing, and a story which from cover -to cover is well written.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE SPECTATOR.</cite>—“Miss Montgomery’s -graceful story.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE.</cite>—“Well -told and amusing.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SCOTSMAN.</cite>—“Worthy of the reputation -made by ‘Misunderstood.’”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>THE OUTLOOK.</cite>—“She sketches -her characters in both prettily and wittily.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>F. MONTGOMERY</div> - <div class='c014'>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top. <b>6s.</b></div> - <div class='c014'>Misunderstood</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>Diary of Dr. WILBERFORCE, Bishop of -Winchester.</cite>—“Read ‘Misunderstood,’ very -touching and truthful.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>VANITY FAIR.</cite>—“This volume gives us -what of all things is the most rare to find in contemporary -literature—a true picture of child-life.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top. <b>6s.</b></div> - <div class='c014'>Seaforth</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WORLD.</cite>—“In the marvellous world of the -pathetic conceptions of Dickens there is nothing -more exquisitely touching than the loving, love-seeking, -unloved child, Florence Dombey. We -pay Miss Montgomery the highest compliment -within our reach when we say that in ‘Seaforth’ she -frequently suggests comparisons with what is at -least one of the masterpieces of the greatest master -of tenderness and humour which nineteenth-century -fiction has known. ‘Seaforth’ is a novel full of -beauty, feeling, and interest.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top. <b>6s.</b></div> - <div class='c014'>Thrown Together</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>VANITY FAIR.</cite>—“This charming story cannot -fail to please.”</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>WASHINGTON DAILY CHRONICLE.</cite>—“A -delightful story. There is a thread of gold in -it upon which are strung many lovely sentiments.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Crown 8vo. Gilt Top. <b>6s.</b></div> - <div class='c014'><i>Second Edition.</i></div> - <div class='c014'>Transformed; or, Three Weeks</div> - <div>in a Lifetime</div> - <div class='c012'>Pott 8vo. <b>2s.</b></div> - <div class='c014'>Tony: A Sketch</div> - <div class='c012'>3 Vols. Crown 8vo. <b>18s.</b></div> - <div class='c014'>Colonel Norton</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>RUDYARD KIPLING</div> - <div class='c014'><i>UNIFORM EDITION</i></div> - <div class='c014'><i>Extra Crown 8vo.</i> <i>Scarlet Cloth</i></div> - <div class='c014'><i>Gilt Tops.</i> <b>6s.</b> <i>each</i></div> - <div class='c014'>60th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>Kim</div> - <div class='c014'>Illustrated by <span class='sc'>J. L. Kipling</span></div> - <div class='c014'>33rd Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>Stalky & Co.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“If ‘Stalky & -Co.’ does not become as classic as the greatest -favourites among Mr. Kipling’s previous volumes of -stories, write us down false prophets. He has -never written with more rapturously swinging zest, -or bubbled over with more rollicking fun.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>57th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>The Day’s Work</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>MORNING POST.</cite>—“The book is so varied, -so full of colour and life from end to end, that few -who read the first two or three stories will lay it -down till they have read the last.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>48th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>Plain Tales from the Hills</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>SATURDAY REVIEW.</cite>—“Mr. Kipling -knows and appreciates the English in India, and -is a born story-teller and a man of humour into the -bargain.... It would be hard to find better reading.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>39th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>Life’s Handicap</div> - <div class='c014'>Being Stories of Mine Own People.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>BLACK AND WHITE.</cite>—“‘Life’s Handicap’ -contains much of the best work hitherto accomplished -by the author, and, taken as a whole, is a -complete advance upon its predecessors.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>36th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>Many Inventions</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</cite>—“The completest -book that Mr. Kipling has yet given us in workmanship, -the weightiest and most humane in -breadth of view.... It can only be regarded as -a fresh landmark in the progression of his -genius.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>41st Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>The Light that Failed</div> - <div class='c014'>Re-written and considerably enlarged.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ACADEMY.</cite>—“Whatever else be true of Mr. -Kipling, it is the first truth about him that he has -power, real intrinsic power.... Mr. Kipling’s -work has innumerable good qualities.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>17th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>Wee Willie Winkie</div> - <div class='c014'>and other Stories</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>RUDYARD KIPLING</div> - <div class='c014'><i>UNIFORM EDITION</i> <b>6s.</b> <i>each</i>.</div> - <div class='c014'>20th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>Soldiers Three</div> - <div class='c014'>and other Stories</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>GLOBE.</cite>—“Containing some of the best of his -highly vivid work.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>55th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>The Jungle Book</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>With Illustrations by <span class='sc'>J. L. Kipling</span> -and <span class='sc'>W. H. Drake</span>.</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>PUNCH.</cite>—“‘Æsop’s Fables and dear old Brer -Fox and Co.,’ observes the Baron sagely, ‘may -have suggested to the fanciful genius of Rudyard -Kipling the delightful idea, carried out in the -most fascinating style, of ‘The Jungle Book.’”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>38th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>The Second Jungle Book</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>With Illustrations by <span class='sc'>J. Lockwood -Kipling</span>.</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“The appearance -of ‘The Second Jungle Book’ is a literary event -of which no one will mistake the importance. Unlike -most sequels, the various stories comprised in -the new volume are at least equal to their predecessors.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>27th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>“Captains Courageous”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'>A Story of the Grand Banks. Illustrated -by <span class='sc'>I. W. Taber</span>.</p> - -<p class='c008'><cite>ATHENÆUM.</cite>—“Never in English prose has -the sea in all its myriad aspects, with all its sounds -and sights and odours, been reproduced with such -subtle skill as in these pages.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>14th Thousand</div> - <div class='c014'>From Sea to Sea</div> - <div class='c014'>Letters of Travel. In Two Vols.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH.</cite>—“‘From Sea to -Sea’ is delightful reading throughout. ‘Good -things’ sparkle in its every page, and inimitable -descriptive matter abounds.... A charming -book.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>The Naulahka</div> - <div class='c014'>A Story of West and East.</div> - <div class='c014'>BY</div> - <div class='c014'>RUDYARD KIPLING</div> - <div class='c014'>AND</div> - <div class='c014'>WOLCOTT BALESTIER</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c012'> - <div>RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BUNGAY. 20.9.02.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Transcriber’s Notes</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Some presumed printer’s errors have been corrected, including normalizing -punctuation. Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation has been left as printed unless -specifically noted below. -Further corrections are listed below.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><a href='#ref'>p. 28</a> refection -> reflection</div> - <div class='line'><a href='#make'>p. 98</a> make’s -> makes</div> - <div class='line'><a href='#it'>p. 166</a> its claims -> it claims</div> - <div class='line'><a href='#clark'>p. 370</a> Jack Clark -> Jack Clarke</div> - <div class='line'><a href='#font'>p. 393</a> Fontenay -> Fontenaye</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ghost Camp, by Rolf Boldrewood - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GHOST CAMP *** - -***** This file should be named 51011-h.htm or 51011-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/0/1/51011/ - -Produced by MWS, Sonya Schermann and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -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. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -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/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - -</pre> - - </body> - <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.53c8 on 2016-01-23 11:11:39 GMT --> -</html> diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/51011-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ea265b2..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_02.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_02.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 96bc23d..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_02.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_03.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_03.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3cd7623..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_03.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_04.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_04.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 372af13..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_04.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_05.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_05.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1d15fa7..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_05.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_06.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_06.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e170cec..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_06.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_07.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_07.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4255a5d..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_07.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_08.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_08.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ab3b367..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_08.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_09.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_09.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ba449a5..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_09.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_10.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_10.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a193035..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_10.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_11.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_11.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0c983bd..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_11.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_12.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_12.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d303e07..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_12.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_13.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_13.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2e3f808..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_13.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_14.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_14.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9b437a8..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_14.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_15.png b/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_15.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index bf39325..0000000 --- a/old/51011-h/images/i_catalog_15.png +++ /dev/null |
