The Gallant (34 page)

“The type who attacked and killed John Price?” Dominic suggested. “That’s what most of them are like, Kitty. Hardened criminals, incapable of reform, who must be locked away for the good of humanity.”

And Michael, Kitty told herself wretchedly, had been compelled to live his life with such men…

. She bit her lip fiercely, stifling an angry rejoinder. Dominic did not understand; he saw all convicts in the same light, and despite his William Stuart Long

efforts to help her-which had been considerable-he had no real sympathy for Michael’s cause. Rather he had made those efforts for

her,

and it was becoming increasingly evident that he expected favors in return. And that spelled danger, for he was a married man and Hobart had more than its share of clacking tongues.

“Then it would appear that your brother has made good his escape,” Dominic went on, breaking the little silence that had fallen between them. “Or perhaps he hasn’t yet come to the town. Did the villains who were captured give any information as to his whereabouts?”

“They told Captain Brown, the officer who questioned them, that they left Michael at a farmhouse close to where the steamer comthe

Hastings

comwent aground,” Kitty answered. “But that was three weeks ago. They claimed that Michael was holding a family called Meldrum to ransom-but they were lying, they were trying to implicate him in their crimes.”

“How do you know that?” Dominic’s tone was skeptical.

“Because a search party of Captain Brown’s men had been to the farm,” Kitty explained. “They went on board the

Tamar,

the ship that was sent to tow the

Hastings

back to port. They reported that all the Meldrums were at liberty and going about their business quite normally. Michael may have been there, but he’s not there now.”

“Then you think he’s here, in Hobart?”

“I don’t know,” Kitty admitted

reluctantly. “Patrick and Johnny

are both convinced he is-they are scouring the town now, on the chance of finding him or finding someone who’s seen him. We

must

find him, Dominic. He doesn’t know that he’s been pardoned, and-well, it’s essential that he’s told about the pardon. Before-that is-was She broke off, flushing.

“Before he commits any-er-any act that might be construed as a crime?” Dominic finished for her.

“Such as robbery under arms-bushranging?”

“Yes.” Kitty felt her color deepening.

“That is the only course open to escaped convicts, is it not? In the end. And all poor Michael will be thinking of is-it must be—how to avoid capture.”

“I thought the search for him had been called off,”

Dominic said.

“The offer of a reward for his apprehension has been withdrawn,” Kitty told him. “John Broome saw to that. He called on the governor and on Dr.

Hampton this morning. But the search is to continue.

As I told you, Patrick and Johnny are scouring the town, and-was

“It’s a big town now,” Dominic reminded her. “Close on a quarter of the population of Tasmania resides here. It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack, so if I were you, my dear, I would not build my hopes too high.”

Dominic paused, looking up at the wall clock above his head. “Time marches on. Will you take lunch with me, Kitty?”

“At your house?” Kitty asked uncertainly.

He shook his head. “I seldom ate luncheon at home. Marion entertains her lady friends to luncheon, and I’m not welcome, if I turn up when I’m not expected. Besides, I-oh, Lord, Kitty, you must know how much I enjoy your company!

There’s a pleasant little eating house in the next street, kept by a Frenchman, so I promise you the food is excellent. And afterward, if you would care to, we could go for a ride-out in the country. It’s a while since my horses had a pipe-opener-they’re just eating their heads off in the stables. And you handle the gray filly, Snowgoose, so beautifully.”

Kitty was tempted. The occasional rides on Dominic’s fine horses were always a pleasure to her, but usually Patrick came with them, and in his presence Dominic behaved circumspectly.

Alone and unchaperoned, he might be less so. She had been aware for some time of the feelings he had for her, although up till now he had been careful to restrain himself. He was an attractive man-handsome and erudite, always good company, and a practiced horseman-yet … her conscience pricked her. He

had

helped immensely in the search for Michael, sometimes at considerable personal risk, for had it not been he who had arranged the meeting with Martin Cash-the man who had succeeded in escaping from Port Arthur-well knowing the purpose for which she and Patrick had wanted to make contact with him?

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“Then thank you,” she acknowledged, smiling.

“I’d particularly like to ride out into the country, Dominic. I-was

“In the hope, no doubt, of finding some clue as to your brother’s present whereabouts?” Dominic challenged, a hint of sullenness in his deep voice.

“That, of course,” Kitty agreed. “It’s why we’re here, is it not-to try to find Michael?

It’s more urgent than ever now.”

“He may have left Hobart-left Tasmania, Kitty. Have you considered that as a serious possibility? He’s had time to find a ship-some of the masters aren’t too particular. I mean-was “I know what you mean,” Kitty retorted with asperity. “But Michael was an officer in the Royal Navy, you know. And if he

has

taken passage to-to New South Wales or Victoria or even to New Zealand, Patrick and I will follow him.”

“Then I hope he’s still in Tasmania,”

Dominic said. “It will break my heart if you leave here, Kitty. You’re-oh, God, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known! Meeting you has-has changed my life.”

He looked so downcast that Kitty stifled the impulse to reprove him. Instead she said gently, “You should not talk like that, Dominic, truly you should not. You know it cannot lead anywhere, even if I wanted it to-and I don’t. I’m committed, you must understand that.”

“Committed to your other admirer, John Broome?” Dominic. challenged with a bitterness he made no attempt to hide. “Is that it, Kitty?”

She denied his accusation with a flash of anger.

“No-to finding my brother Michael! John is a good friend, a very good and generous friend. Like you, he has gone out of his way to help us. And he-was “And he is free, of course-free to marry you.

Whereas I am not.” Dominic’s anger matched hers, and Kitty rose quickly to her feet.

“I have no intention of marrying anyone,” she told him, with icy restraint. And it was the truth.

Johnny Broome was also an attractive man, and one of great integrity and charm-but so far as marriage was concerned, she had scarcely given it serious consideration since arriving in Australia. It was on Michael’s account that she and Patrick had come to Australia, for his sake

that they had gone to Norfolk Island and then come here. She could not,

would

not permit herself to be diverted from the search, by Dominic or Johnny Broome or any man, until they found Michael and were able to give him the glad news that he had been granted a royal pardon.

“I think,” she began, picking up her parasol and moving toward the door, “I think perhaps it might be best to postpone our luncheon, Dominic.

You-was

Raised voices from the outer office caused her to break off; a moment later the door opened and Patrick and Johnny appeared, ushering between them a young man in the garb of a farmer, stocky and dark-haired and plainly exceedingly nervous and ill at ease.

“We struck it lucky at last!” Patrick exclaimed excitedly. “And by the purest chance.”

He turned apologetically to Dominic. “Forgive us for bursting in here like this, all unheralded, Dominic, but I knew Kitty diswas coming here, and I simply had to give her the good news. This lad”-he gestured to the stocky young farmer-“is Oscar Meldrum. It was at his father’s holding that Michael found refuge. Oscar, this is Mr.

Dominic Hayes, editor and proprietor of the Hobart

Chronicle.”

Oscar Meldrum touched his straw hat and then hurriedly removed it from his head, murmuring an acknowledgment of the introduction in awed tones. He seated himself on the edge of the chair Dominic drew up for him, clutching the hat nervously in big, work-scarred hands. There was a faded bruise on his forehead, Kitty noticed, and anxious to put him at ease, she went to him, holding out her hand.

“I’m Michael’s sister,” she told him, smiling. “And I think we must be in your family’s debt, Mr. Meldrum, on Michael’s account.”

The young man found his voice then. “Oh, no, ma’am,” he denied. “It’s the other way about-we’re all in Mr. Wexford’s debt. We reckon he saved our lives.”

“Saved your lives?” Dominic echoed, unable to hide his astonishment. “How in the world did he do that?”

Oscar Meldrum started to explain, but Johnny cut him short. “Maybe we should begin at the beginning, Oscar. Mr. Hayes has not yet heard how we found you. It really was the most William Stuart Long

stupendous slice of luck, you see.” He was addressing her, Kitty realized, and there was elation in his voice. “We’d been asking questions all over town, Patrick and I, without any glimmer of success, and then, passing an agricultural supplier’s, we noticed Oscar’s

wagon in the yard. It had the name on it-Amos Meldrum, Baker’s Creek Farm-and Patrick remembered that was where those rogues who wrecked the Hastings

steamer told Captain Brown they’d last seen Michael. So we made ourselves known-just in time, wasn’t it, Oscar? For he was making his last call for stores and was about to set off for home.”

Oscar nodded. “Yes, that’s right, sir.”

“Tell your story,” Johnny invited. “Just as you told it to us. And don’t worry about getting your family into trouble, lad. We’ll see to it that you don’t.”

Nervously at first, Oscar obediently launched into his account of what had occurred at his father’s farm following Michael’s sudden appearance there.

“We was out harvestin’, so we never seen him when he first turned up. My little sister-she’s badly crippled, so she wasn’t working with the rest of us-Prudence let him in. He was wet and cold.

He’d swum ashore, seemingly when them absconders turned on him and the ship’s master and tried to kill them. But the master, Captain Tarr, was hit bad and he died… .” Gathering confidence from the concerted interest of his listeners, Oscar continued his story, describing in stark detail the raid by Michael’s three fellow convicts.

“There was nothin’ we could do. They was all armed, and my pa had put the only weapon we had-an old flintlock musket-in the larder. They tied me and my brother and Pa to chairs, but they didn’t tie Mr. Wexford up, or my wife or my ma or Prudence. The rogue they called Haines kept a gun on Mr. Wexford and made him fetch liquor for them, while my ma was fixin’ them a meal. One of them hit me with his musket butt-was Oscar gingerly touched the bruise on his forehead. “So I was pretty well out of my senses when they was eatin’ and drinkin’. I only came to when Mr. Wexford fetched the old flintlock out of the larder and went for Haines with it.”

Warming to his subject, he gave a graphic description of the

struggle that had ensued in the lamplit kitchen of the farmhouse, and Kitty listened, her throat tight.

“Haines would have shot me, if Mr. Wexford hadn’t knocked the pistol out of his hand,” the young farmer went on. “One of them lost his nerve and legged it out of the house, which narrowed the odds a bit, and my ma got hold of one of their muskets, while Martha, my wife, and little Pru was tryin’

to cut us free. Haines saw he was licked and said they’d go and no’ trouble us no more, but the little man-the one they called Josh comhe seemed to go crazy.

Haines was makin’ for the yard when Josh went for Mr.

Wexford with a bayonet he had, and the flintlock misfired. He stabbed Mr. Wexford in the arm, screechin’ an’ yellin’ like a banshee, and then, when he seen him fall, he legged it outside after the others. We didn’t see no more of them, thank God!”

“What happened to Mr. Wexford?” Kitty asked anxiously. “Was he badly hurt?”

“He was bleedin’ badly,” Oscar answered.

“But my ma took care o’ that and put him to bed.

He was with us for a couple of weeks, and then he said he wanted to come here, to Hobart. He was aimin’

to sign on a ship if he could find a master to take him-wanted to quit Tasmania, he said, and get to Victoria if he could. He had some reason why he had to go to Melbourne, but he never told us what it was. All I know is that he mentioned havin’

to find someone there, a man who owed him somethin’.

He-was Oscar hesitated, looking from one to the other of them uncertainly. Finally he appealed to Johnny. “You did say you’d see my family didn’t get into trouble over helpin’ Mr.

Wexford, didn’t you, sir? “Cause they did

help him. I helped him-I drove him to the outskirts of town. We owed him our help, sir.”

“You shall not be blamed for that, Oscar,” Johnny assured him. “I’ll intercede on your behalf with His Excellency the governor, if necessary.” He laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “How else did you help Mr. Wexford? Speak freely, lad … Mr. Wexford has been granted a pardon-that’s why it is so important that we find him. He doesn’t know, you see.”

Oscar looked relieved. “That’s good news, sir, about the pardon. As to how else we helped him-well, my pa gave him

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clothes and seaman’s papers that had belonged to an old ticket-to-leave convict who died after working for us for a couple of years. His name was Blaney-Thomas Albert Blaney. Mr.

Wexford had his ticket-of-leave, too, sir, and a letter from my pa givin” him permission to come to Hobart for stores. None of “em would have held water if the police had checked the records, of course, but Pa reckoned the seaman’s papers would get Mr. Wexford a berth.”

Kitty, who had followed his account with rapt attention, gave vent to a little cry. “Do you think, then, that he has left Hobart? Do you think he found a vessel to give him passage?”