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First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 29. A Night's Work |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. A NIGHT'S WORK "What shall I do?" said Nic to himself. Being faint, and feeling half stunned, no answer came; and he looked round at the beautiful country, which appeared newer and more beautiful than ever in the orange-gold of approaching evening, while all within was black with misery and despair. He never knew before how much he liked the stern, manly fellow who that next morning was to be tied up and flogged; and the more Nic thought of the horrible punishment the deeper grew his misery, as he felt what a helpless boy he was in the matter; and a number of wild plans began to enter his head. He had no gun with him now, but he could ride back, fetch it, and wait till morning. Then he would ride up to the Wattles just when they were going to tie up Leather, take his place beside him, and, with presented gun, dare any one to touch his father's servant. Then the weak tears came into the boy's eyes, and he laughed a piteous, contemptuous laugh at himself for harbouring such a silly, romantic notion. And all the while Sorrel went on at his steady walk, growing cool and comfortable, refreshed too by the light feed he had had and the rub down. They went slowly on till sunset, when Nic drew rein, and sat gazing at the large orange ball sinking away beyond the mountains. "So beautiful!" he said, forced into admiration of the glories of the coming evening; "and poor Leather lying there handcuffed and waiting to be flogged." He leaped from his horse and threw the rein over its head. "There!" he cried, patting the soft arched neck, "eat away, old chap. You needn't be miserable if I am. I can't go and leave poor Leather like this." He threw himself down on the grass to think--to try and make out some plan, while the birds winged their way overhead back to their roosting places, and here and there the kangaroos and their many little relatives began to steal out of the woodland shelters they had affected through the heat of the day, to lope about like huge hares, look around for danger, and then begin to browse. At first the only idea that would come to the boy was that he would wait there till daybreak, and then ride the three or four miles he had come in his homeward direction back to the Wattles, getting there in good time; and when the preparations were being made for punishment he would ride boldly up and make a final appeal to Mr Dillon to either let Leather off or to defer everything till the doctor returned. "Poor Leather!" he said to himself: "he'll see that I have not deserted him." _Crop_, _crop_, _crop_; the horse went on browsing away upon the rich grass, but keeping close at hand, as if liking its master's company, and raising its head now and then to whinny softly. The sun had gone down, and the glorious tints were dying out on and beyond the mountains. Then a great planet began to twinkle in the soft grey of the west, which rapidly grew of a dark purple, lit up again with a warm glow and grew purple once more, with the planet now blazing like a dazzling spot of silver hung high in the heavens. Soon after, it would have been dark but for the glorious display of golden stars which now encircled the vast arch overhead, far more beautifully in that clear air than Nic ever remembered to have seen at home. And all this splendour of the heavens made him the more miserable, for it seemed to him as if at such a time everything ought to be dark and stormy. The night birds were out, and strange cries, wails, and chuckling noises reached his ears, mingled with the whirr and whizz of crickets and the soft pipe and croak of frogs in and about a water-hole not far away. Once or twice, half startled, Nic thought he saw dusky, shadowy figures stealing along, and his heart beat fast; but he soon told himself that it was all fancy, for if any one had approached the horse would have been alarmed, whereas it was close at hand cropping the grass contentedly, its loud puff of breath with which it blew away insects upon the grass sounding regular in its intervals. It was restful lying there, but Nic's faintness increased, and he was glad to pick a few leaves and blades of grass to chew and keep down the famished feeling which troubled him. But that calm night-time was glorious for thought, and before long he had determined that, come what might, he would wait for another hour or two and ride back to the Wattles and set Leather free. For he knew whereabouts the convict was imprisoned. The man who attended to Sorrel had said it was behind the house. Then what could be easier than to ride round, and, close up, find which was the big shed, and give Leather a signal; and then, with one working outside, the other in, it would be easy enough. Why, if he could not get the wooden bar away with which these big sheds were mostly fastened, he could guide Sorrel alongside, stand on the saddle, and remove some of the bark or shingle roofing. Nic forgot hunger, misery, and despair in the glow of exultation which came over him, and he felt contempt for his readiness to give up and think that all was over. "More ways of killing a cat than hanging it," he said, with a little laugh, and lying upon his back in a thoroughly restful position he set himself to watch the stars, till all at once they turned blank, and he leaped to his feet in alarm and went to pat his horse. "That won't do," he muttered. "Done up, I suppose, and it was the lying on my back and leaving off thinking. But I couldn't have slept for many minutes." For the matter of that the time might have been two or three hours, for aught he could have told; but as it was he had not been asleep a minute when he sprang back into wakefulness, and, determined now not to run any more risks, he stopped with his horse, resting against its flank and thinking of what a great solitary place he was in, and how strange it seemed for that vast country to have so few inhabitants. His aim was to wait until everybody would be asleep at the Wattles, and then ride softly up, when he felt that there would be light enough for his purpose, which ought not to take long. The time glided away slowly, but at last he felt that he might start, and after seeing that the bridle was all right he proceeded to tighten the girths. But Sorrel had been pretty busy over that rich grass, and Nic found that if he did anything to those girths he ought to let them a little loose. "You greedy pig!" he said, patting the horse affectionately, "eating away like that and enjoying yourself when your master starves." The horse whinnied. "Ah! don't do that," said Nic in alarm. "You would spoil everything." He mounted and cantered back for a good two miles, finding no difficulty, for the horse went over the same ground again. Then Nic drew rein and walked on and on till he thought he must have missed the place in the dark; but all at once below him he saw a faint light move for a few moments, and disappear. Evidently a lantern which some one had carried into the house. Nic checked his horse for quite a quarter of an hour, and then walked it slowly down the slope, till there, dimly showing up before him, he could make out building after building, looming all dim and ghostly-looking, but plain enough to one whose eyes had grown accustomed to the dark. But there were fences to avoid, and there was an enclosed garden; so the boy felt that the wisest plan would be to take a pretty good circuit round and then go up to the back. Starting to do this, he was very nearly thrown, for Sorrel suddenly made a tremendous bound and cleared a large tree trunk, which had been felled and lay denuded of all its branches right across his way. This was a shock; and it had other effects, for at the heavy beat of hoofs a deep-mouthed dog suddenly set up a tremendous bark, which was taken up by half a dozen more in chorus, accompanied by the rattling of chains in and out of kennels. Nic paused, with his heart beating, but the barking went on, and a voice was heard to shout faintly: "Lie down!" But the dogs still barked, and a window was opened and a loud voice, which Nic recognised, shouted: "Hullo! What is it, my lads?" The barking turned to a burst of whimpering and whining, and after a few sharp commands to lie down Nic heard the window closed; and the rattling of the dogs' chains began again, a whimper or two, and then all was silent once more. Meanwhile Nic had peered carefully round, and became aware of the fact that there were several pieces of timber lying about, as if a group of trees had been felled where he stood, and cautiously dismounting and leading his horse, he began to guide it out of the dangerous place. But he had hardly achieved this when the barking broke out again, making Nic mount and ride slowly off, while the window was once more thrown open, and the voice the boy had recognised as the magistrate's cried sharply: "What is it there, boys?" the dogs barking wildly in reply. Just then a shrill whistle rang out, and directly after a man shouted. "All right, sir, here!" "What's the matter with the dogs, Belton?" "Dunno, sir. Dingo, perhaps." "Or something else. Here: go and see if that scoundrel's all right." "He's all right, sir. I've been twice. Just come from there now." "Humph! That's right, my lad. But they seem very uneasy." "Well, yes, sir, they do," said the man; "but they often have a fit like this. Lie down, will yer!" There was a general rattling of chains at this, while every word had come distinctly to Nic's ears in the soft silence. "Good night." "Good night, sir." There was shutting of the window, and then the man said slowly: "I'll bring a whip round to some on yer directly. Hold yer row!" One dog barked as if protesting. "Quiet, will yer!" cried the man. "Think nobody wants to sleep?" Then silence, an uneasy rattle of a chain, the banging of a door, and Nic wiped the perspiration from his brow. The case seemed hopeless, but he would not give up. Twice over he tried to get round to the back of the house, but the dogs were on the alert; and the last time, just as he drew rein closer than he had been before, the window was opened, two flashes of light cut the darkness, and there came the double report of a gun, making Sorrel bound and nearly unseat his rider. "See any one, sir?" cried the man, hurrying out. "No; but I'm sure there's some one about. Get your gun. I'll be down directly, and we'll keep watch." The window closed, and Nic heard the man growl at the dogs: "You've done it now. Keep watch, eh? But I'll pay some on yer to-morrow." The dogs burst out barking again, for Nic was guiding his horse away in despair, feeling that he could not accomplish his task; then he waited till he was a few hundred yards distant, and cantered on, feeling that in all probability some of the dogs would be loosened and come after him. As he rode he listened, and there was the yelping as of a pack, making him urge Sorrel into a gallop; but the sounds died out, and at the end of a mile he drew rein, for there was no suggestion of pursuit. Nic walked his horse beneath one of the great trees, and sat there like a statue, thinking, and trying hard to come to some determination. To get at the building where Leather was imprisoned was not the easy task he had thought. In fact, he felt now, that with all those dogs about, that he had not noticed the previous afternoon, when they were probably away with the shepherds, it was impossible. "What shall I do?" he said to himself again; and he cudgelled his brain in the hope of some idea coming, but all in vain. And so a good hour passed, when, sick and in despair, he determined to make one more essay, for he argued, with a bitter smile, "The dogs may be asleep." At any rate he would try, and if he failed he would ride up in the morning, and they should not flog the poor fellow while he was there. "Yes," he said, "the dogs may be asleep; but suppose Mr Dillon or his men are keeping watch." He had put his horse in motion, and was riding out of the black shadow, but drew rein sharply, and Sorrel stopped short, for away in the distance came the loud yelping and baying of dogs in pursuit of something, just as he had heard them in the Kentish woods at home when laid on the scent of a fox, but not with the weird, strange sound heard now on the night air. "What does it mean?" thought Nic, as his heart seemed to stand still and then began to beat with heavy throbs; for the idea came that Leather had broken out--was escaping--was coming in his direction; and at that moment there was a pause--a silence which jarred the boy's nerves. Had they got him? No; for the dogs were in full pursuit once more, probably on the fugitive's scent, and faintly heard there were shouts as of some one urging the pack on. How long what followed took Nic never knew, for he was listening, intensely excited, and agitated as to whether he should go or stay, when the thought came that perhaps the dogs were on his scent; but he cast that idea away as foolish, for he had been mounted nearly all the time. Then all at once, as the hounds were evidently coming nearer and the shouts plainer, Nic felt that he must sit out the affair and hear what had happened; when Sorrel drew a deep breath, there was a heavy breathing, and a man came on at a steady trot straight for the shadow in which Nic sat, so that the next moment he was upon him. "Back, for your life!" came hoarsely, as the man raised his arm. "Leather!" "You here!" panted the convict. "But quick--they're after us. Canter right away." As he spoke he took a firm grip of the nag's mane, and as it sprang off ran easily by its side, the docile beast making straight for home. For some minutes they went on like this, with the sounds growing fainter; and then the convict broke the silence. "Master Nic," he whispered, "I am innocent, my lad. I did not use the axe. That ruffian struck me with the fork handle till my manhood revolted against it, and I knocked him down with my fist, boy--my fist." "Yes, I know: Sam told me," said Nic hoarsely. "I came to try and get you away." "God bless you, my lad! I couldn't bear to stay there and be disgraced more than I have. It was too hard." "How did you escape?" "Broke the handcuffs apart, climbed to the rafters, pulled open the bark thatching and let myself down; but the dogs gave the alarm." "Well, they shan't have you now," cried Nic, pulling up. "Jump on and ride home. I'll run beside you. They can't take you away again." The convict laughed bitterly. "You foolish boy," he said gently, "the law is on their side. No. Good-bye, lad. Don't forget me. You know the truth, but you must not be mixed up with my escape. You have done nothing yet. Off with you-- home!" "But you, Leather, what are you going to do?" said Nic huskily. "Escape if I can, and I think I shall." "But where--what to do? Wait till father comes home?" "No. What can he do? Dillon will send me to the chain gang as a dangerous man; and I am now, boy--I am, for it shall only be my dead body they shall take." "Leather!" "No, Nic. Frank Mayne, an honest man. Home with you, boy!" "But you?" "I? There's room enough yonder. To begin a new life of freedom--a savage among the blacks." There was a smart blow of the open hand delivered on the horse's neck, and the startled beast sprang forward into a wild gallop, which the boy could not for the moment check. When he did, and looked round, there was the darkness of the night, the cry of some wild bird; the baying of the dogs had ceased, and he was quite alone. "He can't be far," thought the boy, and he whistled softly again and again, but there was no reply. He tried to pierce the darkness, but it was very black now, and he noticed that the stars had been blotted out, and directly after there came _pat_; _pat_, _pat_--the sound of great drops of rain, the advance-guard of a storm. It would have been useless to try and follow the convict, and at last Nic let his impatient horse move on at a walk, then it cantered, and then galloped straight for the Bluff, as if trying to escape from the pelting rain, while it quivered at every flash and bounded on as the lightning was followed by a deafening roar. "There'll be no trail to follow," cried Nic exultantly; "it will all be washed away, and he'll shelter himself under some tree. But hurrah! I shall see him again. Let old Dillon flog the whipping-post, or, if he's disappointed, let him have old Brookes." For a peculiar feeling of exultation had come upon the boy, and the storm, instead of being startling, seemed grand, till he rode into the enclosure, seeing that lights were in three of the windows, and a trio of voices cried: "Nic, is that you?" "Yes, all right," he shouted. "So hungry. In as soon as I've seen to my horse." Five minutes after he ran in dripping wet, and had hard work to keep Mrs Braydon from embracing him. "Not till I've changed, mother," he cried. "But where have you been?" "Over to Dillon's, to get him not to punish Leather, and let him come away." "Yes, Nic?" cried Janet excitedly. "He wouldn't let him come." Janet heaved a piteous sigh and sank back in her chair, while Nic hurried to his room to get rid of his soaking garments. When he came out to go to the room where the meal had been kept waiting all those many hours for his return, he met Janet. "You coward!" she whispered: "you have not tried." "I did my best," whispered Nic. "But, I say, Jan, can you keep a secret?" "Yes: what?" she cried excitedly. "Old Dillon must be as mad as mad. Leather has escaped, and has made for the myall scrub." Janet uttered a peculiar sound: it was caused by her pressing her hands to her lips to suppress a cry, as she ran to her own room. "Poor chap!" said Nic to himself. "I'm glad she likes him too." _ |
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